#its really small and i used my new pencils and i ADORE them

[wackusbonkus22]

Padme forced them to take a vacation in Naboo, and they are spending all of it in bed as they deserve🥹

[sukeart]

CODFISH your splatoon ocs are so ADORABLE! I just love your art so much you have some incredible talent. I always struggle w/ translating Splatoon character proportions into my art style and you do it so effortlessly :,,D. I wanted to ask, what software/app do you often use for your illustrations and what is your go-to brush(es)? It's an experimental thing, I'm asking other artists what they use and I'm trying to find a medium I really like. If you're not up for sharing, that's totally fine!

Also (abt the twitter tag post) I'm not entirely sure what you mean by "vibe" but piercings and jewelry spawn in on almost all of your characters. Very flowy and vibrant artstyle!

oh thank you so much!! ;; i'm really glad you like my ocs!! i actually still struggle a lot with splatoon proportions myself ;v; lots of tweaking and resizing when i sketch, I hope to be able to draw them more naturally eventually ..! But i'm glad I can make it seem like it's natural, because I put a lot of effort into it 😭🙏 Currently I use paint tool SAI ver.2 for about 95% of my drawing process. I eventually hop into CSP v1.13 if i need more specific tools or brushes (mostly for background or effects) My go to brushes in sai2 is the effect pen tool for sketching and rough lineart, and I use the brush tool for coloring and rendering (alongside the default pen and airbrush tools)

I've been using sai for over ten years now.. its very simple and clean UI allow me to focus entirely on my drawing. I've tried switching to CSP for maybe 2 years, but still ended up going back to sai, because the wide array of tools and brushes etc. that csp has just kept distracting me (think of it like forcing yourself to use a ballpen to draw instead of a pencil and eraser, with which you end up trying to correct every single small mistake you make) (i tried to simplify csp's UI to mimick sai's but it was still overwhelming for me) Good luck on finding your soulmate art program and brushes!! It can be difficult but definitely worth the experiments

And thank you!! I do really like piercings, so I'll make sure to give that new oomie some :^)

[jerrytheduck]

College packing tips, because I have ✨opinions✨

This isn’t gonna be all inclusive instead just a list of thing to think about that might not be on a standard list

It got really long so I added a read more lol

long and the short of it is consider if you can buy it easily from college if you aren't gonna need it right away, that way you keep down on bringing so much stuff

but also if it is gonna make you happy, honestly do bring it. like college is different enough, you can keep some things the same

Most college beds are extra long, so don't get the wrong sheets

mattress toppers are godsends imo but they can be expensive so don't stress too much about it if u can't

on that note i also adore my ugg comforter its so damn soft

Bring the documents you might need to get a job! If you have a passport this is the best choice because it is the most easily replaceable, but a (certified) copy of your birth certificate *and* your social security card also works (you need both)— obviously not everyone works in college but it’s still good to have the option

Check the I9 list online if you’re not sure what counts

Yes you should bring a little set of tupperware and a single set of dishes/silverware — sometimes you just wanna make ramen or order takeout whatnot so it’s nice to have some containers

On that note, I would pick a little electric kettle over a microwave or a fridge— it’s cheap, not a fire hazard like a microwave (check your college’s rules! some are fine with it some aren’t) and you can make all sorts of stuff with boiling water—namely, ramen and hot chocolate/tea

If you don’t like the 50 cent ramen they have slightly more expensive ramen that I do think is better— personal choice tho you do you

Some dorms have stuff you can use/share and some don’t, so it might be better to hold off on buying some things until you get there—my dorm has a communal vacuum, kitchen and box of trash bags, for example

If you wanna be the og, after you put up a command hook for your coat by/on the door, leave it there for the next person. Or don’t, you do you.

Don’t forget an umbrella. Pref one that shrinks down and has a little strap for your wrist

If you use wooden pencils, you also need a pencil sharpener. Battery operated little ones usually aren’t too expensive

Bring meds like Tylenol, Advil, cough drops, prob mucinex, and neosporin, and share them if people ask (don’t forget prescriptions too!) — however, if you’re looking to pack light, you can also just buy them at a cvs or walgreens as needed (but remember, if you’re in quarantine that may be harder than u think)

HDMI cord (and adapter if you’re a stinky MacBook user) (that is a joke, MacBook users are not stinky) so that you can attach your computer to monitors, tvs and the like (I wouldn’t buy a new one just for college tho, just pack one if you’ve got a spare)

Paper towels. Can also buy these when there tho, just nice to have

Tissues. Same as above.

A laundry hamper that you can carry with you down to the washing machines all in one go (don’t get like a hamper and a bag, for example cause you’re not gonna want to do that transfer). I would also recommend something that only holds one load of laundry if you’re only ever gonna do one load at a time, and that it is small enough to fit under the bed

I like tide pods cause they’re idiot proof, but that’s a personal preference.

The next few bullets are gonna be about cold weather shit, because I go to school in New Hampshire but live in Virginia— therefore there was quite a difference in winter temperatures — these only apply if you’re also going somewhere hella cold

You might not need your heavy duty coat until after thanksgiving but you should have a coat or layers that are warm enough to tolerate down to like 30 even before thanksgiving

My coat complement was as follows: one thin pullover, one sweatshirt, one waist-length Patagonia that was pretty good in a lot of temps, one knee length Patagonia with a hood that is very very warm.

With these, I would usually wear the waist length Patagonia down to 30, double with the sweatshirt down to 25, and switch over to the knee length below that. If you’re not in the cold for very long the waist length will do without the sweatshirt until as low as 20 if you walk fast and have accessories

Speaking of accessories, you need a nice hat and some gloves. I personally liked the fairly thin driving style gloves for most everyday stuff, because you could actually do things with them and they were pretty much enough for most activities unless you were literally playing in the snow

These made every coat so much warmer.

Shop for coats in the summer when they’re on sale and search around— they don’t need to break the bank but I would opt to splurge on this over pretty much anything else specifically for the knee length coat. You can also layer more tho if yours isn’t as warm, and that works too!

I wore a mask outside instead of a scarf cause that was easier but that’s personal preference

I don’t really go out so this doesn’t apply to me really but lots of people have a “fracket” — a cheaper jacket meant to be used between parties that you don’t care if it gets stolen as much

If you see people wearing Canada goose jackets they are insanely rich. Keep that in mind when meeting people who may otherwise seem mostly normal. (No, not all rich people are assholes but it’s something to keep in mind)

Don’t forget to bring warm weather clothes for the start tho!! It’ll still be warm in September and buildings up here don’t always have AC

Yes, bring your stuffed animals. If your roommate judges you they can fuck off and mind their own business.

Shoes: similarly based on it being cold and snowy as hell in the winter, may not apply

A pair of comfy hiking boots/shoes will probably be more useful than straight snow boots on most days, though if you have those you can def bring after thanksgiving/christmas

Hiking boots are the second thing I’d recommend you splurge on for high quality if you can

However, while nature works hard, northern snowplows on golf carts work harder so usually you won’t be literally trudging through snow unless it’s actively snowing. They plow the sidewalks too here usually, which is why you can get by without snow boots if you want

You do need some kind of comfy everyday shoe that is both waterproof and non-slip tho because there will be ice

Speaking of which, if it is below freezing that is not a puddle. You should not remotely trust any wet spots on the pavement or you *will* end up immediately on your ass.

Otherwise, bring flip flops, sneakers and dress shoes if you have them (for the few times you will need to dress up, or if you wanna make a less dressy outfit immediately a little more formal)

You shouldn’t need to buy anything new tho just bring the shoes you have/wear at home

Oh and shower shoes. Spend like zero dollars on them tho

I have generally not needed a tv tho I do have a second monitor for my laptop (those are usually cheaper than tvs) which was a godsend when we were semi-virtual my freshman year but doesn’t get used as often now

Don’t buy the books until after you start your classes but also check the library (online and physical) because sometimes they have them available for free

Actually before buying any piece of media (movies and whatnot included) check to see if they have it first, some schools have a movie library or even video games and consoles

Not related to what to bring but after you finish your classes leave an honest description of them on rate my professor or the college-specific review website—and use those websites when choosing classes too

However, remember that people are more likely to leave reviews when things go badly, so especially take things like evaluations of niceness of the prof with a grain of salt

Instead, look at workload, style of the class, content, etc to see if it lines up with what you assumed from the course description, and then go from there.

Generally assume that there is no such thing as a truly easy class, so searching for only the easy classes won’t really get you anywhere. Things are easier when you actually like the content, usually.

You don’t need as many school supplies as you did in high school— if you write notes for every class you’ll need a notebook for each, some pencils/whatever tools you usually use to take the notes, and maybe like one folder or binder to leave in your dorm for printouts and whatnot

If you want to print every reading ever you might need another binder, but wait to buy that until you’re actually doing the readings because that depends a lot on the class

Speaking of which you do need a backpack for college but def make sure it’s the right size for that updated list of supplies ^^^ mine was way too big and I was gifted a smaller one so that’s what I use, you do you

[katy-l-wood]

Rebinding paperbacks into hardbacks: a tutorial

I promised a tutorial about how I’ve been doing this, so here we go! First though, I must stress that I AM NOT A PROFESSIONAL. I am making this up as I go based on several hours of research for a single project about ten years ago. But I needed a serotonin boost from a project I didn’t have to buy anything new for, so I decided to just throw myself back into book binding.

Are there people out there with better advice? Yup. Am I doing parts of thing wrong? Probably. But I’m also having tons of fun. So goal accomplished.

Just...don’t do this with any books you adore/rare books without digging deeper into the more professional side of this. Just for fun, okay? Okay.

This will be a pretty long post, so most of it will be under a cut!

First up: Supplies.

Your book! For this tutorial I’m using a copy of The Raven Boys by Maggie Stiefvater because I’ve ended up with three copies of it, so it’s perfect for this project.

Some clean scrap paper.

A cutting mat. If you don’t have one you can use some scrap corrugated cardboard (probably best to have a couple layers, if you do it this way), however the mat is nice because it has angles marked on it which will be important for later.

Rubber cement. (Technically, spray glue would probably be better, but I didn’t have any spray glue so it would’ve violated my rule of “do not spend anything on this project.)

Craft glue.

Ruler.

Scissors.

Creasing tool. Alternatively, a pen with a flat, slightly rounded bottom edge can work well too.

Sandpaper.

Pencil

Water cup.

Ribbon, if you want to do a bookmark.

Papertowels.

Paint pallet you don’t mind getting glue on. A sturdy paper plate works fine too.

A charm for your bookmark, if you want one.

Some kind of book board to form your covers. You can use a lot of things for this including thick, sturdy, non-corrugated cardboard, cereal box cardboard glued together in layers, wood, or actual book board that you purchase online. I am using some chipboard that was used to stabilize and protect something I ordered online. It works FANTASTICALLY. I always hang onto this stuff when I get a package that has it.

Some brushes you aren’t afraid to ruin with glue.

Heavy duty box cutter (if you’re using wood, you may need some sort of saw).

Exacto knife.

Something to form your spine. Again, you have a lot of options here. I am using some faux-leather I had laying around, which I’ve found works best. If you use a regular fabric you’ll have to hem it, and use a fabric friendly glue that won’t come up through the fabric, which is not covered here.

3-4 sheets of scrapbook paper. Thicker cardstock papers work best for their sturdiness, but you can use lighter weight papers as well, you just have to be careful how you glue things so the lighter papers don’t warp.

Letter stickers if you want to do a title on on the cover. There’s lots of other ways to do titles, though, so it’s up to you.

(sorry, forgot to add this in the picture) 6 small binder clips. Like, the half inch sized ones.

(No picture again, sorry!) Something heavy to set on top of your book while it is drying. I just used a box of acrylic paints.

Whew. Okay, onto the actual tutorial.

Step one: Measure and cut your boards.

Measure your book, and then add 1/8-1/4inch to each side EXCEPT the spine. So, if your book is 5x8inches, you’ll want to measure out 5.25x8.5inches. The 1/8-1/4inch part is up to you. I prefer to do 1/4 inch because I like to see a bit of the endpapers even when the book is closed.

Cut out two of these rectangles from your cover material using a ruler to guide the cut and your boxcutter. With chipboard, this will likely take several cuts. I put about half an inch between each rectangle just so that if I mess up a cut I’ll only ruin one of the rectangles, not both.

Congrats, you now have your two covers! Sand down any stray bits on the edges from cutting and you’re good to go. At this point, you can do whatever you want to the things. Paint them. Collage on them. Paper them. Woodburn them. Totally up to you. Just remember, at least half an inch of the spine side will be covered by your spine material, and the insides will be covered by your endpapers, so don’t put anything important there! For this tutorial we’ll only be covering the paper wrapping method, but you really can do whatever you like.

Step 2: Wrap ‘em in pretty paper.

If you are using lighter paper, you’ll use rubber cement for this step. If you are using thicker cardstock, you can use craft glue, but it MUST be watered down (about 1part glue, 2parts water in your paint tray). If you have a printer that is big enough for scrapbook paper, you can also print titles onto the paper before you attach it to the boards. This is what I did for Hunger Pangs. If you do this, you just have to be very careful with your positioning when placing the board so that your title lines up properly!

Take your first sheet of cover paper and lay it face down. Then, take one of your cover boards and apply an even coat of glue all across one face. Plop that down on the boring side of your scrapbook paper, with a couple inches of room on each side, and press it firmly for a couple minutes.

Next, trim down your paper with the exacto knife so it is even on all sides. I honestly just lay my ruler against the edge of the board, then cut along the other edge of the ruler. Quick and easy, no measuring required, and it will be exactly the same every time.

Now trim off all the corners at a 45degree angle, leaving about 1/8inch between the corner of your board and the cut. This is where the cutting mat comes in handy, since it already has these angles marked for you. If you don’t have one, you can just measure out the angles on your own.

Now, use the smoothing tool of choice to carefully and gently fold over each of your edges. Emphasis on gently. Then, using the same glue you used to secure the front side, glue down the edges one at a time. You’ll probably have to hold them in place for a minute or two to make sure they stick.

Congrats on completing the first cover! Now repeat the process for the other one. Again, you can do whatever you want to it at this point. I added a second layer of paper feathers to mine because, well, it’s the Raven Cycle. Feathers and trees.

Step 3: Attach the book.

Lay your backcover down in the proper position, and coat it with watered down craft glue (not rubber cement). For this you want your glue a little thicker, so about 1part glue 1part water. Don’t go quite all the way to the edges, except on the spine side.

Apply book. Make sure it is centered top/bottom, and the spine of the book is lined up with the spine side of your board. Press firmly, then put your weighted box/other books/whatever, on top and let dry for at least fifteen minutes.

Next, apply glue to the front cover of the book, and attach your new cover on top. Again, make sure everything lines up properly, then press firmly for a few minutes before putting your weights on top. Let dry for an hour.

Step 4: Give it some spine.

You can work on this during the hour your book is drying. I’m doing this with faux leather (which, I know, evil plastic, hissssss. But it was what I had laying around in my art hoard from before I knew how crappy faux leather is. Better to use it than throw it out).

Measure the width of your book with the two new covers included. Then add 3/4inches to the width on each side. Measure the length of your book, and then add 2x whatever you added when you cut out your boards to each end. So if you added 1/4inch to each edge in that step, add 1/2inch at the top and bottom each in this step. If you added 1/8inch in that step, add 1/4inch in this step.

Cut that baby out using scissors. (You can also add more than 3/4inches to the width of your new spine, it just depends on the look you’re going for. You can also have fun with the edges, rather than making them straight, as long as you keep that 3/4inches as your minimum and expand out from there.)

Once you’ve given your book its hour of drying time, remove the weights. Using a line of pure craft glue, secure the first edge of your spine in place. Make sure it is centered with an even amount hanging over the top and bottom. Only about 1/2inch of the long edge of the leather should be in contact with the book. Put the weight back on top and let sit for about fifteen minutes.

If you want to attach a ribbon bookmark, now is the time, after that 15 minutes of drying. Cut out your ribbon about 4 inches longer than your book, apply the charm if you want to, and then glue about two inches of it to the outside of the paperback’s original spine using pure craft glue.

Flip your book, and glue down the other side of your new spine the same way, making sure it is even with the front cover. Don’t pull it too tight, or it will keep your book from closing properly. Place it back under your weight and let dry for an hour.

Once dry, apply a line of pure craft glue to the little bit hanging off one end. Don’t make it too thick! Just enough to cover the leather well.

Now fold over the leather so it wraps around to the inside, and use the binder clips to hold it in place. Wipe off any excess glue that gets pushed out, then let dry for an hour.

Step 5: Endpapers!

While that’s drying, cut out your endpapers! You’ll likely only need one piece of scrapbook paper for this, but it depends on the size of your book and if you want to do anything special with the pattern you’re using. Again, if you want to you can use your printer to put text on these.

If you want to have your endpaper covering BOTH the inside of the cover and the first page of the book (and the last page/inside of the cover for the back) you’ll have to do some careful measuring to cut things out and you will need two pieces of scrapbook paper for this. But I like to keep things simple and just cover the insides of the covers, not the first/last pages too, so I just use two simple rectangles. You’ll want to cut them about 1/16inches SHORTER than the measurements of your new covers.

Once the spine is done drying, remove the binder clips and check that your endpapers fit properly and aren’t hanging over the edge. You may have to trim them slightly. Once the size is right, glue them into place using rubber cement. Use your smoothing tool to press down the edges. Do this for the front and back. Put back under weight for another hour.

You’re done!

Congrats on your new book! Enjoy it.

[ptergwen]

"i knew you wouldn't go to sleep willingly, so i brought you some chamomile tea and a blanket. twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay?" with peter, pls? 💗

take a break

w/c: 1,149

a/n: oh i adore this like peter is the boy of everyone’s dreams… literally

-

a huff exits peter’s lips as he watches you scribble down another chemical formula in your workbook. you’ve been cooped up at your desk for days, trying to repair a glitch with your newest suit. once you solve the problem on paper, you’ll bring the solution to the lab.

peter understands that this is important to you. he’s the same way with his tech, but he worries that you’re prioritizing yours over what really matters — yourself, and your sanity.

“are you sure you don’t want some help, babe?” peter wonders aloud, sending you a smile from his spot on the floor. he’s splayed out there while you stay planted in a swirly chair. “i know a thing or two about superhero swag, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he playfully states.

peter rolls up his hoodie sleeve and flashes the spider-man symbol that comes from his webshooters. it hits the wall you’re facing, making you breathe a weak laugh through your nose.

“i’m good, pete. thanks anyway,” you brush his offer off and flip to a fresh sheet of paper.

you’re determined to finish this project all by yourself, even though you could admittedly do with a few pointers from peter. that just wouldn’t be the same because you want a success that’s completely your own.

sighing, peter pushes his sleeve back down. “okay. is there anything else you need?”

there are what seems like hundreds of discarded notes scattered across your desk, pencils tucked into your hair, empty coffee cups everywhere. you’re worse than he is, and that’s saying something.

“a break, maybe,” peter mumbles before hauling himself up and over to you. you shake your pointer finger at him. “watch it, parker. i heard that.”

he bends over once he reaches your chair, arms winding around your neck from behind. you hum contentedly and tilt your head back to look at him. peter’s lips press to your forehead lightly, then curve into a frown when he notices the dark circles more prominent than usual under your eyes.

he’d been afraid you weren’t taking care of yourself, and this confirms his fears.

“oh, baby… when was the last time you slept?” peter coos. he uses his thumb to caress your cheekbone, free hand tangling in your nest of locks. “looks like it’s been days.”

you place one of your hands atop his, savoring the feeling of his skin on yours.

“it has been,” you murmur your response. “but, so what? stark has me on for a mission soon, and the suit’s not gonna fix itself.” peter clicks his tongue, starting to remove the pencils from your poor hair. “if you’re gonna be fighting bad guys all weekend, you gotta rest up first.”

he finishes plucking out the pencils and drops them down on your desk. your shoulders slump, both hands coming to hold up your head.

“it’s funny because… how many times have you patrolled sleep deprived?” you interrogate your boyfriend. peter gives you a tired grin under the low light your lamp casts. “enough to know what i’m talking about, y/n/n. i think you should wrap up for the night.”

peter attempts to shut your workbook, but you push him away with a scoff. he instead averts his touch to your shoulder, where he rubs soft circles over your shirt.

“i’ll be done in a bit. i, um, wanna check the coding first, make sure it’s right,” you monotonously explain, clicking on your laptop and typing away.

you’re past the point of even falling for peter’s persuasion, which is rare.

peter’s eyes scan the numbers and letters that litter your screen. there’s an overwhelming amount, and he can hardly make sense of them.

“leave you to it, then. i’m gonna go brush my teeth.” he kisses the side of your head and squeezes your shoulder. you merely acknowledge him with a grunt, too preoccupied for anything more.

it’s a while later when peter returns, though you’re in the same position as he left you. you’re muttering to yourself, cross referencing between your workbook and computer before entering new codes for your suit. peter leans in the doorway and lets you do your thing.

your drive never ceases to impress and inspire him, that’s for sure.

you flinch upon peter’s thumb stroking the back of your hand, gently pulling you out of your trance. you’d forgotten he was ever gone.

“sorry, did i scare you?” peter chuckles, his thumb hooking with yours. “mhm. kinda lost myself in this whole mess,” you gesture to your disaster of a workspace. peering up at him, you realize his arms are filled. “whatcha got, pete?”

“right,” he proudly affirms. “i knew you wouldn’t go to sleep willingly, so i brought you some chamomile tea,” he puts the mug down in front of you, beaming. “and, a blanket.” next, the fuzzy material is draped over your shoulders.

you welcome its warmth, hands curling around the mug so you can sip the tea.

“i thought you were brushing your teeth,” you remind peter with a small smile. he taps your laptop screen. “i thought you’d be done in a bit.” raising an eyebrow, you tug on the hem of peter’s hoodie. “you got me there. but, seriously. this was really sweet, babes… thank you for looking out for me.”

peter replies by stealing a peck of your lips, grabbing at your waist to steady you. you have to fight back a yawn, so it doesn’t last long.

he adjusts the blanket to be hugging your body and leaves another loving kiss on your cheek. “since you refuse to go to bed, could i at least suggest a nap?”

this time, you cave. you gulp down more of the chamomile, slowly nodding in agreement. peter turns to go, but you latch onto his wrist to stop him. he grins at you curiously as your fingers slide down and lace with his.

“don’t leave me,” you command, peter moving in closer to you. “of course i won’t, baby. i was just gonna grab your pillows.” he laughs out. pursing your lips, you set down the mug of tea. “eh, i don’t need them. i’ll use you.” peter likes the sound of that. “even better. stand up for a sec.”

you oblige and keep the blanket snug around you, peter situating himself in your chair. after he’s settled, he beckons you over using his pinkie. he happily waits for you to seat yourself in his lap, your head laying on his shoulder and his arms cuddling your waist.

“i’m telling stark i can’t do the mission,” you inform peter, your eyes fluttering shut. “rather stay in with you instead.” pleased by your decision, peter holds you a little tighter. “twenty minutes of shut-eye, okay?” he whispers and thankfully doesn’t earn any protests from you.

you’re already fast asleep, the most comfortable and at peace in peter’s arms.

[kunimikat]

How they act after you break up with them.

(I made sure to check but there might be small grammar errors, and this is a long one so strap in 🙇, but hope you enjoy angst+fluff here) but not me actually feeling bad for them after-

Is more out of it then usual.

The reason you broke up with him is because you felt like it wasn’t a real relationship. And more like you sometimes got to talk during class, and sometimes out of school.

He writes in his a separate notebook of ways he could’ve done better

Starts comparing himself to other guys more often

Leaves earlier then everyone else to got to dorms.

Mumbles even more then usual, and sometimes the only person that can snap him out of it is Aizawa.

Sometimes takes it out on his friends

“Hey Deku!-“

“Not right now Uraraka.”

“Oi, Deku nerd, the-“

“Can you not right now Kacchan?”

“HAAH?-“

“Midoryia! Would you like to study?”

“Maybe later Iida...”

Todoroki offered him soba but it resulted in Midoriya slowly slurping up soba as he looked into the void of people

He shut everyone one out and didn’t talk barely most of the week.

He’d take out a lot of his anger during training.

It somehow finally clicks into place how bad you feel and how much you miss him when All Might pull you aside and asks. “Uhhh...Is Young Midoriya ok? I’m getting real worried....ITS NOT LIKE I DONT WORRY ABOUT MY OTHER STUDENTS HAHAHA! HOW’S-

There’s 15 minutes of your life awkwardly telling All Might how all your classmates are doing.

Which made you want to jump off the top of UA at the moment.

You decide to head to his dorm and ask him about it, cause you feel like it’s your fault.

You walk in on him crying, clutching the shirt you bought for him on his birthday.

You almost dropped to your knees in guilt at the sight

You rushed over and sat by him, comforting him, though it wasn’t much as you started crying too.

Basically a crying festival for an hour.

“Please....Please Y/N I love you so much, I promise I’ll make it work, and I’ll do my best to make it up to you, just please...PLEASE don’t leave me.” You kiss him on the lips and then his hand, “Babe it’s not all on you, I promise I’ll do better this time too, I’m so sorry for being selfish, I love you, ok?” Another crying fest.

After you start dating again:

Always makes sure you’re comfortable, and checks into your dorm before he starts a study session.

Helps you with your work before his. ( Though you insist he doesn’t as he’s gotten points off multiple times for turning in his work late.)

Goes on dates every time you have some free space in your schedules. Somehow ends up in an All Might merch shop 80% of the time.

!!CUDDLE SESSIONS AFTER HERO TRAINING AT ALL TIMES!! Even in Recovery Girl’s office, though many times she bops you both on the head and tells you to get out.

(If you both like All Might) You both geek out over new All Might stuff, and his old interviews while wearing an All Might onesies.

(If you like a different hero) You could spend hours bickering on who’s best hero, pulling up recordings and articles on the. With you holding your favorite hero plushie and him wearing All Might pajamas.

And waking up early just to take a long route to school together.

Makes sure to say ‘I love you’ at every small moment, and compliments you, though he can’t take compliments himself-

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“I...I understand, but why?”

Tears well up in his eyes and he for once he keeps eye contact with you, without looking away

It takes everything in you to not breakdown

“I’m sorry Izuku, I just don’t think it’ll work out in the end.” He grabs your hand and holds it both of his. He puts it to his forehead, nearly on his knees at this point. You try not to cry with him, but you knew it wasn’t going to end up a happily ever after in the end. And you wanted to break it off before that could happen.

“Izuku, I know, I know, I’m so sorry, I wish it couldn’t end like this-“

“Then don’t let it. Please Y/N don’t let this end.”

You eyes welled up as you put a hand over your mouth while repeating ‘I’m sorry, so sorry Izuku’. You looked away from him as you slipped your hand out of his, you close your eyes painfully, the tears finally running down your face. You couldn’t help but look back one more time, and almost wanted to run to where he was and take it all back. He sat on his knees, his head in his hands as painful sobs wracked his body. You quickly leave the room, shutting the door behind you.

You both were pretty quiet and emotionless the whole week.

Midoriya was even worse then before,

It got to the point where sometimes he didn’t eat or sleep

He barely responded to anything anyone said

Hell, even Bakugo was worried at some point

Midoriya would always go back to his dorm and cuddle with the gifts you gave him while you were dating.

It took a long time for him to get over it, and even when he thought it did, he still gets emotional over it

Even after highschool it pains him to see your off doing your own thing without you at his side the whole time

Quieter then usual

Is so deep in thought, sometimes forgets he’s in class or what he’s doing

During tests, or while working on assignments he’d be so deep in thought he didn’t realize he broke his pencil, or used his quirk on his desk

Instead of having his usual outburst on people he’d just walk off, or click his tounge and walk off

Even during Hero Lessons he’d be less calculated, and not as pumped up

When anyone tried to ask he’d just say “Fuck off, I’m fine.”

His grades slightly dropped

He had bags under his eyes, and had even worse posture then usual

When it came time to leave, he’d be the first one out, and no one could find out where he’d go

A permanent frown was on his face at all times (basically him most of time but with a deeper frown)

No one knew what to do at this point

It didn’t click with you until one day during Hero Lessons

He was sparring with Kirishima and all of a sudden he fainted

Everyone was surprised to say the most

You rushed with Kirishima to Recover Girls office

You both almost busted the door off it’s hinges

She wacked you both on the head but quickly tended to Bakugo, surprising you both as she checked on him

“Oh....I wouldn’t have expected this from Bakugo.” You and Kirishima had confused looks on your faces. “Well he passed out from exhaustion, which I usually see with that foolish Midoriya boy. This one usually keeps up with himself, something must’ve happened.” She cut herself off as she saw the look on your face that said it all. She beckons Kirishima to follow her out, as he still wasn’t getting what was happening.

You finally got a good look at him, and saw just how exhausted he looked. The bags under his eyes, his bruised body, and how pained he looked in his sleep. You hugged the non-bruised part of his arm, and finally let the tears you held let go. “I’m sorry Katsuki...I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner.” Before you realized he woke up, he placed his free hand on your head, rubbing small and soothing circles on your head. “S’okay, let’s make this work.” You knew you didn’t have to say anything else as you both stayed like that until Recovery Girl came in to kick you both out.

After you start dating again:

Comes to your dorm everyday to get you up knowing you’d oversleep if he didn’t (also wants to see your sleeping face...not in a weird way)

Cooks you breakfast in bed on off days,

You guys cook something together when you have a movie night

Instead of yelling most times, he just makes sure he understands your side of everything before jumping to conclusions

Makes sure he isn’t too rough with you verbally (lol not sure physically)

Brings you to his parents house during some free time since you get along with his mom and dad well

Won’t admit it but adores the fact that his parents love you

Whispers ‘I love you’ when he’s made sure your ‘sleeping’ (you’re not, you just wanna hear him say it all shy like)

You guys go on training dates, where you both train together, then have a picnic where you just trained

Him being more open with PDA, like holding your hand, or laying his head on your shoulder, etc. just small stuff

He loves playing with your hair and twisting it around his fingers while cuddling or studying

You both cheer on your favorite hero during a fight on TV, or you pick a random channel on TV and you just listen to him rant how stupid something is while you lean onto his shoulder at 2am (somehow got him to stay up this late)

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“No...no...you can’t, you can’t be serious”

He sounded so broken. His fists clutched so hard you thought his bones would pop out

Anger was evident in his face, and he honestly scared you with the face he was making

“Y/N....are you joking?” You frown and step back a little, did he really think everything you said was a joke? “No Bakugo, I just think this isnt gonna work out in the end.” You heard him click his tongue, then just look at you in shock, then anger. He looked down, his bangs covering his expression. “So you’re just gonna end it like that? No working anything out, just break up? It was one fucking mistake Y/N.”

“Yeah one big mistake, you don’t suck faces with some other person on accident, Bakugo.” The venom in your voice slicing through the tension filled air. “Can you just fucking forgive me? I won’t do it again.”

“You said that last time, Katsuki, then you go and clown off again-“

Before you could get anything else out Bakugo already had his quirk going in one hand, and the other holding your shoulder down. You both looked surprised, even as he backed away. “No..nononono fuck Y/N baby I’m sorry-” you smacked the hand that reached out for you. You started packing everything, Bakugo’s eyes widened as he just stood in shock. Before he knew it you were leaving already.

“N...NO NO Y/N PLEASE, I’M SORRY-“ he grabbed you by the arm that reached for the door knob. You quickly shrugged him out of his grasp, and opened the door. “Goodbye Bakugo, I hope well for the next person with you.” And you slammed it in his face. He stood there, it’s like the emotions he felt before were completely wiped when you slammed the door on him. It was 8:03pm, he should start getting ready for bed anyway.

For a few weeks he was unresponsive, and only talked when he needed to

His movements were sluggish and he’d often stare at nothing

Bakugo didn’t even glare, or really do anything when Midoriya tried talking him

Or shittyhair, dunce face, raccoon eyes, or soy sauce face

They were all the same, and just molded into one voice every time someone tried talking to him

After a while he got over it, but he still regrets what he did

You helped him through so much yet he went off and did stupid shit

Even after highschool, he’d still keep up on you frequently through social media

Basically stalking you on there, guessing he never truly got over it once he felt tears subconsciously stream down his face as he saw you with someone else, happier.

He felt like he didn’t do anything wrong, and he was confused at the throb in his heart every time you looked away from him or ignored him.

So he did ask you, and all you did was look at him like he just hit you.

Why did you look so hurt?

Todoroki shrugged it off, thinking you’d come back like you did after every fight you guys had

But you didn’t, and that’s what took an actual toll on him

More emotional

A permanent frown on his pretty features most of the time

All he mostly eats is soba

He didn’t know how to handle this in all honesty

Sometimes he’d just stare at you, and even when you looked back he’d just stare...

Sometimes he’s so out of it he doesn’t realize he’s either froze the entire classroom or was a living breathing radiator, or both (rip Momo, Satou, and Tokoyami)

He’d ask Midoryia for help but it came out as a fumbled mess most of the time:

“Midoryia...how do you hurt....them, a lot...without...? Can you help?

Midoryia is just like:

(Sorry I had to add that in I was cackling sm from it)

“I think you should just talk to them Todoroki.”

That was harder to do then he expected, you mangaged to avoid him pretty well,

One day he was just fed up and as soon as the bell rang he took your hand and left the class

He takes you to an empty classroom, his left side nearly giving you frostbite

You were about to yell at him before you saw his broken expression

“What...what did I do for it to be like this?” You we’re now quiet as you saw the confused and hurt expression on his face. Him barely being able to control either of his quirks, he was shaking, yet still held a confused expression. It just clicked with you, Todoroki wasn’t used to the sudden emotions or feelings, and when one of the people he’d usually go to to talk about it wasn’t there, he started to crumble.

You hugged him tightly , not caring if his quirks messed up your uniform. “I’m sorry Y/N....I’m sorry I’m not enough, but-“ You cover his mouth as tears fell from your eyes and onto the ground or his uniform. “I- I-I’m so sorry Todo...it’s just you never gave me affection and I was being so selfish and petty about it, I just- I didn’t realize that you went through your own experience for it to turn out like this. It’s not your fault, and I love you the way you are Shoto.” Todoroki didn’t even notice the tears come down his face as you kissed him over and over again. A small ‘I’m sorry’ from you every time. His quirks calmed down and now you were holding each other in a random classroom. You’re heart nearly stopped as you looked up at him and saw a small, teary eyed smile.

After you start Dating again:

Todoroki was much more observant

He’d stay up late readings articles saying “How to understand emotions” or “Is there other good food then Cold Soba” wait-

Regularly gets you gifts, even though most of the time you make him return the stuff since he’s been getting so much with his dads card

Endeavor ended up yelling at you both in a 7/11 while you were stuffing your faces with a soba flavored chips

You both figured out a way to get Todoroki to express himself without words

He’d slightly activate his left side if he wanted any sort of attention, and his right side was if he was feeling stressed or upset

He subconsciously goes to your dorm now to check up on you to make sure you’ve had a glass of water, dinner or anything really (He just wanted a reason to go to your dorm)

You played with his hair once, and he’s never going back

When cuddling he’d lay his head in the crook of your neck, hoping to feel you playing with his hair

You push him to start taking therapy sessions to understand what emotions he’s feeling and how to express them

Takes you in your free time to an empty field just to hear you talk, and learn more about you

And he’d always wake up early and made sure to get a few snacks for you before you woke up and brought them to your dorm room (Last time he tried to cook he almost burned the kitchen down)

Overall Todoroki just loves giving you small head pats now, you don’t know where it came from but you didn’t complain

Poor bby stuttered so hard the first time he said ‘I love you’ you giggled

Ended up making him feel embarrassed and like he did something wrong, but you quickly kissed him/praised him

He can’t stop saying it now, one time you picked up his pencil, before you could hand it to him just a sudden “I love you Y/N” the entire class looked at you both in shock

“STOP SUCKING FACES OVER THERE!”

“SHUT UP BAKUGO”

“HAAAH?”

Todoroki is the happiest he’s been.

If it’s a permanent breakup:

“Over? What do you mean we’re over?”

You felt so horrible by the the pure confusion on his face

But the rude things he said to you, over powering your want to get back with him

Lately Todoroki has been more protective, and rude. Insulting everything you do, belittling you slightly. It just added up and you were tired of it

Todoroki tilted his head to the side, deep in thought.

“Y/N your being on the dumber side again, are you hanging out with them too much?” You were taken aback by how nonchalantly he insulted you and your friends. “Excuse me? Todoroki did I hear you right?” You stepped foward leaning your head toward him. “Of course you can, or did Bakugo’s yelling make you not hear so well?” The fact he said it with no emotion, or nothing to it was making you clench your fist. “The hell has gotten into you Todoroki?” You shove his shoulder a bit. He frowned at you heavily making you flinch. “Well if you didn’t go and ignore me most of this week maybe I wouldn’t be like this. I usually hold my tongue but you’ve been rude this entire week.”

You stood there speechless. “Well Ex-fucking-cuse me Shoto. Maybe if you didn’t insult me all the damn time I wouldn’t ignore you, or wait for an decent apology.”

You drag out the last words as you glared at him, Todoroki giving one back. “I’m only telling the truth so you don’t look dumb. I’m helping you out Y/N, I thought you’d understand.” You scoff in utter shock, you couldn’t help the sudden urge to slap some sense into him. Now he stood speechless, the force in that slap causing his hair to look messy, and a red mark on his cheek. Tears were in your eyes as you clenched your fist, biting your lip from cussing him out on the spot. “Your lucky I don’t beat your sorry ass, just...just the the fuck out Todoroki!” You pushed him toward the door. He looked at you with no emotion in his face as he saw you start to bawl your eyes out. “Just...just get the hell out Todoroki, it’s over, we’re over.” He felt a pang in his heart, but choose to ignore it and just left.

It only actually came to him during the night as he was about to walk to your dorm after a nightmare, when he realized the entire conversation

He tried knocking on your door but you didn’t answer, even though he could hear your music

He went back to his dorm, sat on his bed and just had a full mental breakdown

Realizing his main emotional support that helped him through mostly everything was gone

He felt he said stuff his father said to you already which made it even worse

He tried texting and calling you but you had him blocked on everything

He repeated the entire conversation in his head, just now coming to how disgusting he really did sound

Todoroki for that whole week was an emotional wreck

During hero training if he was thinking about you or what he did he doesn’t notice poor Satou trying to get out of his wall of Ice.

Is always with Midoryia at some given time,

He kind of clinged onto people in his circle that gave him attention of some sort

When he some time passed he eventually got over it

After Highschool you both kept in touch, but it pained him when he saw you engaged and happy with another person

But he was happy if you were happy.

Heyyy so this is probably the longest thing I’ve written since like my last Wattpad fanfics I used to do(yikes). But hope you enjoy, and don’t be afraid to request! I’m taking them now so go wild.

Sorry that they were all confusing it’s my first hcs+scenario thingy, but I have a few other things in the works so... 💃🕺

[koocycle]

play thing | drabble series (i).

pairing. basketball player!jungkook x female reader

summary. jungkook is aware of the fact that you’re not his to love, yet he’s eager to show you what you’re missing out on.

wc. 3065

warnings. none

taglist. if you’d like to be added, please send me an ask!

previous | next

‘‘You look really pretty today.’’

A hint of a barely visible flush creeps up your already heated cheeks upon hearing the words leaving his lips. You don’t want to show your vulnerability at such an everyday compliment, yet the act seems a bit too hard when your lips break into a grin you’d rather keep to yourself today - completely losing your focus under his heated gaze attempting to meet your own.

‘‘Thank you, Jungkook.’’

He tries to hide the smile that’s making an appearance on his face, but he finds your flustered state way too adorable to not be entertaining on this fine afternoon. He can tell you’re not used to getting compliments by the way you innocently play with the heavy fabric of your dress, pretending to dismiss the existence of the wet haired man in front of you, but he knows better than that. Better than this simple act of innocence you’re putting up for him. 

And he’s not making it any easier on you — not when he is looking at you like this. His entire figure is casually leaning back against the heavy door of the men’s locker room and his backpack hangs lazily over one of his shoulders as you can suspect that there’s nothing more in there besides a total of two pencils in desperate need for a new grinding.

‘‘You can look at me, you know?” He’s mumbling this time, words barely audible before his gaze shifts to his feet, his head tilting and the grimace not yet visible on his face. ‘‘Barely complemented you. I don’t bite.’’

His words make you shoot an eyebrow up your forehead, giving you the final strength to look him in the eye this time. You know exactly what he’s doing.

“I mean — unless you’re into that?”

There it was. The boyish grin just begging to show up, the hint of pure mischief continuing to gleam in his eyes — the kind he wouldn’t be able to hide even if he wanted to. You had expected it to come to this point already, had been waiting for it, actually.

You straighten your back, composing your posture in front of him. And he oh so desperately tries to not avert his eyes down your slightly pushed out chest. The lightweight fabric of your nude colored blouse is allowing him to catch a glimpse of your bra, but he won’t let his guard down.

“I’m not, actually.” You manage to answer smugly, a load of confidence washes over you as you already have a feeling as to where this is heading. This surprises him as well, the sudden hint of a tease clearly audible in your voice.

“Hm, no?”

You shake your head. “Nope.”

Your friend dramatically rolls his eyes at the obvious lie, a glimpse of a pretty smile tugging at the corners of his lips.  He shifts his weight on both his feet now as he disregards the locker room door by itself, prepared to make his way over to you now – and you can already feel the beat of your heart in the base of your throat with each step he takes. Because he’s looking bolder than the days before. More daring – defiant, almost. Ready to take on the challenge and not willing to lose anytime soon.

His entire aura screams fuck me in the janitor’s closet five minutes before your next class starts.

No.

No.

 ‘‘Tell me what you are into then.’’ His eyebrow cockily raises up on his forehead as his head just slightly tilts, knowing he’s got you stuck in place. The confident expression you had written on your face completely dismissed.  

 You can’t handle him.

You clear you throat, announcing your defeat. “You know I got you guys take out?’’ The high pitched undertone in your voice betrays you – but what else do you have in your power when he stands in front of you like this? The warmth of his body this close to you, you’re actually able to feel him? ‘‘Chinese.. take-out..’’

Both of his eyebrows raise up this time, the surprise coating his features perfectly. ‘‘What?’’ as his gaze shifts to the barely open bag hanging on to your fingertips, you feel a little less intimidated before him. “Seriously?” his tattooed fingers curl around the shoulder straps of his backpack, “I love Chinese take-out. You’re an actual angel.”

When he’s right in front of you, his gaze feels heavy on your shoulders. You tell yourself he’s only interested in the food, but there’s too little space between your bodies for that to be true. His cologne is even stronger this time and it makes your mind all cloudy.

“Uh.. It’s just,” you immediately stop talking as you feel yourself grow hot under his presence, stumbling over your own words before you attempt to gulp your nerves away. “Just some sweet sesame chicken with fried rice and egg rolls.. Nothing out of the ordinary.”

“Still an angel.” He smiles down at you, pinching the tip of your chin just slightly before taking his backpack off and hastily rummaging through it. “Let me pay you back.”

“Oh no,” You immediately try to reassure him, “Absolutely not, Jeon. Over my dead body. You guys trained for over 5 hours, this is the least thing I could do. ”

You watch him pull an eyebrow up, a small smile appearing on his features. As if asking you why you wouldn’t want the money. As if you’re the crazy one here.

“___” He goes, the stern warning in his voice not being dismissed. “You just bought an entire meal for a team of fifteen hungry men. It’d be disrespectful not to pay you back, honestly.”

“You’re not paying me back. End of conversation, Jeon.” You point an accusing finger his way, a cute smile on your face.

Nonetheless, your finger gets dismissed by him as he shakes his head in disapproval before rummaging through his backpack yet again.

Pulling out a rather small wallet, he opens up and goes through it.

“This should be enough.”

He holds the money in between two fingers in the air, pretty pink lips turning into a knowing smile when your eyes widen at the paper in his grip.

“That’s way too much, Jungkook.” A snicker leaves him when you cup your smaller hands over his bigger ones, pushing the 50 dollar bill back to his chest. “Way too much. Are you out of your mind?”

“Are you?” He challenges, eyebrows raising as he waits for you to say something, “I honestly don’t mind paying you back, ___. If anything, it would make me feel better knowing I paid for my own lunch.”

“I mind, though. We’re not doing this.”

“Come on,” He whined, tilting his head slightly but still remaining eye contact with you. “You bought me food, this is the least thing I can do.”

“I bought all of you food, not just you.” You correct him, pointing a long finger at him. He thinks it’s such an adorable act and can’t stop himself from wrapping his entire palm around your pointer finger. “You’ll treat me on Mexican next time, won’t you?’’

When your hand moves in its place to intertwine your fingers together, the last thing Jungkook does is protest. He proudly accepts your soft hand to take place in his own. His thumb gazes over the smooth skin as he can’t help the grin from appearing.

“You win.” He states in defeat, voice lowering a few volumes down until he goes mute, you almost don’t notice the “for now,” he mouths after.

Beats of silence pass between your figures. Your hands are still intertwined and there’s too little space between you to be seen as two average friends with platonic intentions only. The silence hanging in the air isn’t uncomfortable, but rather peaceful. 

You don’t see Jungkook that often, and that’s partly due to both of your packed schedules, growing stack of assignments, and his unending amount of training sessions in basketball court. Nevertheless, he is a great friend to you, and you’re grateful to share this friendship with him. You’re comfortable around him, and you’re sure it’s the other way around as well. That’s an obvious fact considering the way you’re standing here with him. Holding hands with giggly expressions on your faces. 

‘‘Stealing my girlfriend, Jeon?’’ 

It’s crazy how fast the distance between you and Jungkook enlarges within a second when the heavy locker room door comes to an abrupt open. You feel as shocked as you look like with the sudden change of atmosphere, eyes slightly wide when a startled, and rather uncomfortable smile finds its way on your lips.

That’s right; Jungkook kind of seemed to forget about this dude.

‘‘Oh I- uh.. we were just.. talking.’’ Jungkook manages to blurt out, fingers reaching out the scratch the back of his neck. 

‘‘I know. Don’t sweat it, man.’’ The new figure that enters the scene dismisses Jungkook somewhat faster than needed after his attempt on reassuring him, now centering his eyes on you. He stands in between you as if creating a shield around you – as if creating some sort of barrier between you. His hands are slightly up in the air, presumably ready to embrace you in his arms.

‘‘Minho..’’ His name trails off your lips in a rather hesitant manner, Jungkook can’t help but notice. ‘‘How did training go?’’ Your tone is so soft and delicate, filled with affection. 

The larger male takes a few more steps towards you, invading your space as his hands slip around the small of your back. You almost don’t notice the rest of the guys walking out of the locker room as well with him filling your sight, allowing them to have a front row seat on the scene unfolding in front of them. 

‘‘It went fine. What’re you doing here, hm?’’ His words are slightly mumbled before he pushes your body more against his own, his smell overtaking you. He barely gives you some time to process the question before his lips slam against yours, taking you in a hungry kiss. 

The guys watch the scene expand in front of their noses, a few ‘‘oohs’’ thrown in there when your boyfriend deepens the kiss even more, causing you to be thrown off guard a bit. 

‘‘Minho,’’ You try to speak in between the kisses, but he won’t budge. Nervous laughter manages to escape you, ‘‘We’re not alone.’’

Jungkook wants to look the other way a little too badly, but his eyes are somehow still glued on the show you’re currently putting out. He would rather not call the heavy feeling in his stomach something along the lines of disgust, but it’s hard for him not to with the way his insides are turning upside down.

“Better find a room for those two or we’ll be stuck here all day.” It’s Min Yoongi who snickers beside the damp haired boy, nudging his side with his elbow. But Jungkook can’t seem to laugh at the attempted joke. Instead, his fingers are tightening around the straps of his backpack once again, trying to collect his cool.

Your hand is carefully placed on your boyfriend’s chest in attempt to calm the kiss down before he finally quits the whole act all together.

‘‘Can’t even kiss my girlfriend now?’’ Jungkook wants to wipe the grin that's slowly but surely growing on his face off. And the feeling is only starting to increase when the large male turns back to his teammates, a disgusting smirk visible on his features. 

Such an ass.

Jungkook can’t help but scoff at the sight – and visibly so. He’s just using you to show off. 

‘‘I uh..’’ You start but trail off the rails soon enough, making the attention turn back to you, ‘‘I brought you guys some take out, you texted me that you guys have been training all day and I figured out-”

“You brought us take out?”

You don’t get to finish your sentence when Kim Namjoon speaks up from behind, eyes bulging out of his head before slipping past his teammates’ bodies. And even when he eventually stands before you, trying to peek inside the plastic bag in your hands, you can’t help but note the huge amount of height difference between you. No wonder his coach never let him rest on one of the benches during all the competitions played so far - he’s easily one of the tallest players on the field.

It doesn’t take a lot of peeking before a gasp escapes his lips, “Dude - she got them egg rolls, I’ve been craving those all week.’’ Eyes buckle out of his scalp, ‘’All damn week.”

Jungkook can see you shooting a warm smile at Namjoon from afar, content with the way it seems to light the male up – pretty dimples making an appearance as his nearly perfect set of teeth shine brightly in your view. He can almost compare you to a child who just gave their parents the perfect valentines gift, looking all bubbly and excited over this.

‘‘I got some chicken as well.’’ You thrillingly whisper to your side, another set of giggles escaping you once Namjoon, once again, is ready to attack that plastic bag in your grip.

‘‘I didn’t expect you to come with take-out, though.’’ Minho sighs heavily, catching your attention almost immediately as you look at him with a huge set of eyes. The tone of his voice is disgustingly sweetened up as he swallows you back into his embrace, hands dissolving around the small of your back, not caring about the remaining players gauging at the two of you from the other side of the hall. ‘‘We already made plans, babe.’’

You don’t hold on to him the same way he does to you, Jungkook notices. The bright gleam in your eyes from before has already disappeared, now replaced with a frown between your brows. And he hurts for you.

‘‘You can’t reschedule?’’ You ask hazily, almost afraid to ask the question. ‘‘I know Joon would like some take-out.’’ Your hair falls out of your face when you spare Namjoon a pretty glance from over your shoulder.

Yet your boyfriend shakes his head, ‘‘Not this time. You should’ve told me before you went all out to please my teammates like this, love.’’ He titters at his own joke, thinking he’s funny. Still, a few guys besides Jungkook seem to snicker a bit at your rosy-looking cheeks. But he can’t bash an eyelash.

If no one is going to say it, he will.

‘‘Of course we can reschedule.’’ Jungkook speaks up, catching the eyes of your boyfriend immediately, quickly followed by your own. ‘‘We can go for some fast food any other day.’’

When Minho raises a cocky eyebrow up his forehead, the question already written on his features, Jungkook heaves out a tired sigh.

‘‘Come on, man. She bought us an entire meal.’’ His open palm points to the bag, which is still hanging around your curled fingers, reddening the tips completely.  

‘‘It’s not like I asked her to.’’ He bites, almost as if what he had said offended him. ‘‘Right..?’’ He’s looking back at you now, fingers playing with the strands of your hair as he hides them behind your ears. An irky smile visible on his face.

‘‘Right.’’ He confirms once he sees you nodding, placing a hasty kiss on the soft surface of your cheek. ‘‘I’ll call you after. Promise.’’

You’re not worried about him not contacting you – that’s the least thing on your list you’re concerned about. But he doesn’t care. Will not now, will not ever.

‘‘Okay..’’ You manage to say, your voice coming out softer than you had expected. And even though his embrace hadn’t really done anything to warm you up, the void sweeping up to you once he leaves you in place feels a little heavier right now.

‘‘I’m out of here.’’ The guy states, convinced the other guys will follow after him when his hands are raised besides his head. As he turns around without a second glance your way, your eyes follow his figure until he’s out of sight, heading for the exit.

Namjoon, the one whose mouth was watering at the idea of take-out just a minute ago is the first one who breaks the uncomfortable silence. ‘‘Next time, little one.’’ He pats your head gently, making backwards steps to disappear in a second. ‘‘Thank you, though.’’ He’s shooting you an apologetic look before big steps follow your boyfriend’s down the stairs.

Min Yoongi is the next one who leaves the scene to what it is, followed by a few other guys. But unlike Namjoon, these guys don’t do much other than gifting you a few uneasy smiles — ready to leave as soon as possible. And for some reason, it makes you feel even worse.

The silence that follows when it’s just you and Jungkook standing in front of each other hurts more, though. You’re embarrassed, he can see that much.

“Come here.” Your friend spreads his arms for you to jump into, yet you don’t make a move to do exactly that. “We’ll get out of here and eat it together. It might be a little much—” He embraces you in his warmth when you don’t attempt anything, “but do you want to see how many rice cakes I can stuff in my mouth?”

You only glare at him, not having it in you to laugh at the attempted joke when your boyfriend’s irritated expressions occupies your mind.

“I know you’re tempted.” Jungkook wiggles his eyebrows at you, close to succeeding in cheering you up. And it nearly makes you want to give in and have just as a good time as Minho is about to have — but you don’t have the heart to do so.

Instead, your heart is seeking for validation.

Hence you decide to push him away. Only for you to doubt your previous actions for the upcoming few hours.

“It’s alright, Guk.” You smile at him, hand on his chest as you push him away. “I was gonna share some with my roommates anyways.”

The excuse sounds weak to the ear, even to you. But it’s not stopping you from making your way out of the hall before he seems to progress it, mind occupied with your insecurities.

[krystalites]

stationary date with nct dream

genre: fluff all the way

word count: 2.4k

a/n: this popped off when I was planning a stationary date with a friend of mine. Jaemin's part got a bit short cause I kinda forgot about his existence and added it after I lost all my imagination.

⌜ mark ⌟

Between Mark's endless promotions and you studying for your exams, you thought it would be nice to plan a stationary date. You needed new supplies and your boyfriend Mark needed some time to himself.

When you and Mark arrived to the stationary you discovered a few days ago, you noticed that it wasn't as busy as usual. There were only a few people and all that could be heard was soft mumbling of these people along with the soft music playing in the back ground. After making sure Mark was well hidden under his mask, hat and sunglasses combo, the two of you quickly entered the stationary and immediately sprinted towards the rack here the colourful pens were stacked. After minutes of trying out pens and trying to create a nice colour palette, you moved on to the notebooks.

Hours passed by, the sun setting and everybody else leaving. Mark lifted his head from the Oz-Pack's he was checking out and smiled at the sight of you trying to pick out a pencil case. You looked adorable looking from a pencil case to another, examining them carefully so you could choose one of them.

"Come on, I'll buy you both of them." No matter how much you protested, Mark didn't listen and still bought you everything you've put in the little basket the cashier gave you when you first entered the store.

On the way back, you squeezed Mark's hand tightly. "I'm sorry if you didn't have as much as fun as I did." you mumbled quietly. Your boyfriend was quick to shake his head and smile.

"No, I really enjoyed it. It was quite calming actually. We should do it again another time."

⌜ renjun ⌟

The idea was all Renjun. Over the few months, he had grown a habit of keeping a diary. He would sketch stuff, tape random stuff, put stickers and more. When you told him that a bullet journal would look really nice and showed him some pictures, he became really excited. A few days later, he asked you to tag along while going to the stationary to buy the items he needed. Of course, you quickly agreed and took him to a stationary you knew that was pretty popular. By the time you guys got there, it was quite late. Only about an hour left to closing the store, it was almost empty.

You two quickly entered the store and started your little journey of looking for the perfect items. Renjun told you he would go for a more brown-ish look, so you both picked out lots of nude coloured supplies with black ball point pens and stickers. He also got a few sketching pens and markers.

And Renjun being Renjun, he managed to convince you to keep a bullet journal too. So whatever you guys picked for Renjun, you quickly bought them too and left the store minutes before closing. Not wanting to end the night, you quickly went to a convenience store nearby and bought a few drinks. You went to a park, sat on the picnic tables and started to decorate your journals.

You had finished earlier, leaving a bit more place for writing and less for decorations. You wrote something inside the journal, left it open and started napping with your arms under your head. Renjun smiled at the sight of you sleeping and noticed that your journal was open. He took it to close it, yet didn't when he saw what was scribbled inside. Instead, he smiled and leaned forward to plant a kiss on your hair.

Words weren't enough to express his endless and pure love to you.

Dear Diary,

I love Renjun.

⌜ jeno ⌟

Jeno was the perfect boyfriend, quite literally. He was caring, gentle, sweet, handsome, funny and all. But most importantly, he never forgot anything you said. Never. In your whole relationship of 3,5 years he never forgot anything you said. Including you telling him about how you ran out of school supplies over face time a few months ago.

Which is how you ended up in front of a stationary you mentioned to your boyfriend over a week ago. He pulled you in, walking over to the yearly agendas to get you the alpaca one you always wanted. Whatever you mentioned to him on that face time, he found all of them. He also payed for them, after you made him promise to let you pay when he wanted to buy something.

After the two of you exited the store and went back to the dorms, you quickly walked over to his shared room with Jaemin. Thankfully he wasn't at the dorm. You quickly pushed your boyfriend on the bed, climbing on his lap and squeezing the hell out of him. He laughed and kissed your forehead, hugging you back.

"Thanks for remembering everything I say, Jeno. You have no idea how loved that makes me feel." you mumbled quietly. He opened his mouth to say something, but you quickly put your pointer finger on his lips. "Let me continue. Seeing how much you care for me makes me really happy and I think that we could actually have a long and beautiful future ahead of us." you leaned to your bag sitting a few inches away from the two of you. You quickly pulled out a box out of the bag and threw the bag to its old place. You opened the box and pulled out two rings. Jeno's eyes widened as the realisation hit him.

"Which is why I'm giving you this promise ring. One day, when we're sure we can come out to the whole world, I'm going to marry you. Until then, let's keep these rings as a promise."

Jeno talked to his manager later that day, telling him that both him and you were ready to go public.

⌜ haechan ⌟

Donghyuck hadn't left you alone in days, clinging on you like a koala. You had come from your hometown to Seoul for two weeks. Your boyfriend missed you like crazy over the months, being in a long distance relationship could be hard sometimes. There were only a few days left, after flying back to your hometown you were going to start your spring quarter of the school year. A friend of yours who used to lived in Seoul had told you about a certain stationary, mentioning cute pens and school supplies you couldn't find in your hometown.

When you asked Donghyuck if he wanted to tag along, he whined and whined until you managed to convince him. You needed him anyways, you still had difficulties in speaking and understanding Korean.

"Do we really have to do this? You only have a few days left, I want to cuddle with you! And more..." He pouted and crossed his arms on his chest. When you finally arrived at the stationary, he entered it unwillingly but you know the mighty power of Stationaries. As soon as he stepped in, he was amazed by the environment and the beautiful supplies and before you knew it he was more excited than you.

After an hour of wandering in the stationary and picking out stuff, the store started to get busy. Considering you had to keep Donghyuck's existence there as a secret, both of you quickly payed and ran out. Giggling like high school girls, you two exited the store and called a cab. While waiting, you two compared the stuff you bought. You had bought all the stuff you were planning to buy and he bought a notebook and a bunch of pens to write lyrics.

The first song he wrote was a love song for you and only you, waiting to be shared to the whole world with only the two of you knowing the meaning behind it.

⌜ jaemin ⌟

When Jaemin came up to you with an idea of a gaming journal, you couldn't say no. He wanted create a little booklet filled with all the games he's ever played, along with ratings and comments about them. He was very enthusiastic about video games, always finding something new to play. Sometimes he would come over to your place to play games with you, or simply teach you how to play one.

The two of you met up at the stationary close your school, as it was in a less busier area. While there, he also declared that this meet up was actually a date. While he was looking at the stuff he wanted to buy, you tried out different pens. Noticing a little white board and a few colourful white board markers, you quickly bought them so you could use them for studying. You had to start revising for your exams in a few days. When you were done, you fund Jaemin in the huge store, now just following him around. He bought different coloured markers and pens and a black notebook. He also got copies of some game covers to stick on each page.

When the two of you got back to the dorms, you quickly pulled a chair next to his table where his small set up was. Placing your newly-bought items on the desks free space. You quickly began sticking the covers on each page, writing the games name and general information, how it ended, on what platform he played etc. At the very bottom, there were Jaemin's comments and a rating he gave. The first few pages were done, and you two were actually very proud of yourselves. It looked really good! Jaemin thanked you and gave you little kisses all over your face. After finishing showering you with kisses, he told you he'd play games with his friends. You quickly climbed on his lap and snuggled into him, burying your face in the crook of his neck with your legs swinging on his sides.

Jaemin smiled at the way you were cuddling with him and shook his head to the sides. He gave you a little kiss on the temple and started playing.

"Thank you sweetheart. You make me really happy by showing interest in my interests."

⌜ chenle ⌟

Chenle had bought you a few last minute plane tickets , and yes multiple tickets, because he wanted you to fly all around the world with him for Dream's world tour. He made you so happy, proving that he doesn't want to be away from you for that long.

When he came home and told you about the tickets, your first idea was to create a small photo album. Though, you didn't want it to be simple. You wanted small details, which is why you were at the stationary now, trying to decide if you wanted to decorate the album with blue-ish colours or pink-ish colours. The items were laid on a small rack in the store, in a less busier part of it.

The date idea was both yours and Chenle's. You wanted him to come with you, he wanted it to be a date. And the closest place where this date could take place was the stationary a few blocks away from his house.

"I think we should go with pink." Chenle said after a very long silence. "The album cover is cream coloured, and pink would go better with that." Imagining what it would look like, you agreed with him. You bought a bunch of pink ink pens, Stabilo's and Signo's. You bought a few black pens and markers too. Chenle insisted on buying pink post-it's too, so you also bought them. Even though the two of you were done with the shopping, you still looked around and bought some stuff for the next school year.

Hours passed by in the little store. You found your boyfriend in the very back of the store, checking out agendas. You tapped his shoulder with a little smile, and let out a loud laugh when he flinched.

"Calm down, Lele. It's just me." He pouted and flicked your forehead gently. "You scared me! Are we going home?" He asked and rubbed his eyes. He was feeling sleepy. Something he does whenever he feels like he could sleep at the spot. "You look tired. I think we should." With your answer, you exited the store hand in hand.

Later that night, right before falling asleep, Chenle whispered something in your ear.

"I can't wait to travel like this with you, I hope we can do it with our children sometime in the future."

And you did it.

⌜ jisung ⌟

To say Jisung was freaked out would be an understatement. The first day of school was tomorrow, and he hadn't bought any school supplies. He called you last minute, rambling something about going to the stationary with him because you had a lot of "knowledge about pens and everything. You being the amazing significant other you are, quickly agreed and got ready.

After meeting Jisung in front of the stationary and making a list of everything that needs to be bought, you quickly got to work. Files, copy papers, scissors, pens, erasers and whatever else you need for school. You bought a few stuff for his locker too, so he could decorate it. You got copies of all the necessary papers and forms, quickly putting them all in a file you bought from the store.

Almost an hour later, you were finished. You quickly went to the dorms together to organize all of the stuff you had bought. While sticking the name tags on the notebooks, Jisung looked up at you ,who was sitting on his bed, and smiled gently. After watching you carefully write Park Jisung on each tag both in Hangul and Romanisation for a few minutes, he finally spoke up.

"Hey Y/N..?" You turned your head to him and tilted your head to the side. "Yeah, 'Sungie?" He blushed at the simple nickname, despite having heard it for almost a million times. It really affected him that much. "I wanted to thank you for helping me out today. I'm sorry I asked you to come over just like that, but I couldn't have finished all of this so soon without you." You chuckled and finished tagging your last item, quickly jumping on his bed, right next to him. You pulled him on your chest by pushing his head on it. Jisung smiled and wrapped his arms around your waist.

This was his happy place.

[dokifluffs]

Head Pats | Akaashi, Hinata

Pairing: Akaashi X Reader (gender neutral), Hinata X Reader (female) 

Genre: comfort fluff!!!~~

Author’s Note: i’ve said it so many times but OH TO BE Y/N !!! hinata;s is actually kinda angsty ngl sooo ah ha ha 

Warnings! implied time skip. No spoilers for Akaashi but spoilers for timeskip hinata!! 

Head Pats | Suga, Atsumu 

gif from @rivaillerose 💛💛

Akaashi: NOTE - R/N is restaurant name

“I don’t know this.. I don’t know this…”

Panic

It was all you could feel in ever bit of your soul as your heart sank after reading question after question, skipping the ones you didn’t know

But doing this only brought you to the end of the test where you didn’t know anything

Panic

Everyone progressed through their exam in a timely manner and here you were

It felt like you were the only one who wasn’t moving their pencil in the slightest bit

You stared at the words on the test paper before you, all the pencil sounds surrounding you — you felt like such a failure

Like all the hours you spent, all the effort you put into this course, and maybe others, were all for naught

You took a deep breath as you gathered yourself, pushing through your exam

As you took it, some questions were actually fine, majority was alright but they all made you feel uneasy with your answer, making you doubt everything

Sitting in this lecture hall, how grand and tall it was yet here you were, so small. This room used to be filled with your professor’s voice yet here it was — silence

“Time. Pencils down.” Your professor’s voice cut through eh silence like a blade. “Close your packets, slide them into your envelope and pass them down your row. Students at the end of the row pass the envelopes down.”

The shuffling of papers and whispers made your head dizzy, your heart trembling as you closed your final exam

You were done

It was finally over

“All tests are in, you are all dismissed. Have a great summer break!” your professor smiled

Everyone gathered their belongings, chatting amongst themselves as they shook the professor’s hand on the way out

“It was great to have you in class Y/N,” your professor smiled so kindly as he shook your hand one final time. “Have a great summer!”

“You too, professor,” you forced a smile but as soon as you stepped out of the lecture hall, you could hear all the complaints from your classmates as they complained about the test

“I honestly gave up bro, like I didn’t know anything” a guy commented freely as he walked toward the exit

“Bruh I know like I remember him teaching the material but that was it.”

Hearing all the comments sort of like this eased you just a bit but just knowing that you were going to see such a bad score

It made you sick to your stomach, making everything feel wrong

The warm summer sun welcomed you as you stepped outside of the hall

You felt so miserable, all you wanted now was Akaashi, his hand to pat your head and to shoo everything you felt that made you feel so stuffy

“Y/N,” a voice called

The sound of this voice brought tears automatically to your eyes before you could even look up to see the owner of this voice

Your body seemed to move on its own towards your boyfriend as all the emotions and tears that had built up within you during your exam came rushing out

he smiled to you as if nothing was wrong in the world when everything felt wrong 

he wore black jeans with a white shirt and navy blue cardigan with the sleeves rolled up

You wrapped your arms around him, burying your face into his chest and shoulder 

“Oh, Y/N, was it that bad?” He stroked his hand on your head 

“Mmhmm,” you nodded, stifling all your cries and whimpers the best you could but you knew it was already too late - you could feel how swollen and stuffy your nose were 

“I feel like I didn’t know anything and it was so frustrating and depressing to just sit there.” You buried your face into your palms, trying not to break down even more when all you wanted to do right now was to disappear 

“I’m sorry, but it’s over, alright?” Akaashi rubbed your shoulders as a way to comfort you as he smiled at others passing and staring at what was going on but he could also hear the others complaining about the exam you had just taken 

“Y/N?” he leaned down, carefully parting your hands from your face, smiling once you opened your eyes to him. “I brought you these since I know I haven’t been able to really support you properly while you were studying.”

he handed you a bouquet of your favorite flowers 

your lips trembled even more as you cried tears of something else from his loving gesture 

“What’s wrong now?” he laughed as he rolled down his sleeves, using them to dry your face, a sound so pure from him, it made life feel alright 

“N-nothing, I’m just so happy to see you,” you lowered your head down once again only for akaashi to wrap his arms around you, kissing the top of your head 

“negativity begone,” he repeated the words in between every kiss as he gently rocked the two of you side to side 

“Come on, let’s go to R/N, hm? We can talk about anything you want and we can do anything you want now or after, okay?” 

Bonus: 

your sniffles felt like they were never going to end as you sadly drank your drink, letting it refresh you as Akaashi adored you from across the table, happy that your tears and sadness and frustrations from your exam were no longer 

The restaurant was empty as cars whizzed by outside

your heart sank hearing the email notification from your professor  

upon opening it, your soul left your body as all the tears you thought you were done shedding came bac for round two 

“Y/N! What is it?” Akaashi’s brows knitted together as he had never seen you so emotional before 

you couldn’t even begin to speak or try to - all you did was show him your phone

“Hi all, I know this semester was very tough but you all know how much I care about the class. This final exam was not an actual exam nor will I actually be giving one. As for your final grade, I have based that on today’s attendance so everyone will be passing. Have a great summer.” - your professor 

it was unbelievable but all your worries for the last couple of hours were for nothing 

Gif from @rivaillerose​ 💛💛

Hinata: note - pedro is hinata’s roommate in Brazil and he works as a delivery boy to make money 

the door shut behind his body, enclosing him into his dark bedroom, the only source of light coming from outside was from the streetlamp and the bustling night market 

he leaned back against the cool wooden door as it separated Hinata from the lively atmosphere of the rest of the house as Pedro watched One Piece on the TV 

the floor made a loud thud as his body slid down the door, disappointment filling him up as he thought about what had happened 

the new wallet Natsu had gifted him before leaving to Brazil was nowhere to be found in his fanny pack as he ran his deliveries 

for once, the human sun didn’t feel so bright 

he signed as he looked to his dark room, bits and horizontal lights from the street casting onto his wall through the blinds 

the street lift bustling on the street right outside as usual 

a sinking feeling felt like it was only getting deeper and deeper inside his chest as he hugged his arms with his knees, a cool breeze from the floor brushing his legs 

he really screwed up losing his precious wallet

he had never felt so dumb 

his groans and sighs filled the room as he sat in his pool of self disappointment, slowly sinking deeper and deeper 

until his phone rang 

it rang with his bright ringtone, lifting the mood instantly since this particular ringtone was dedicated for you 

everyone had their own ringtone in his phone 

and it was like a breath of fresh air when he sighed, grateful he didn’t lose this today 

He opened the flap of his case, his face suddenly illuminated by the device in hand 

“Shoyo!” you beamed, your bright aura illuminating through his screen even into the darkest places within him, eradicating as much negativity as you unintentionally could 

“Y/N, hi!” he beamed, almost completely forgetting his major bump in the road 

“How are you doing? How was your day?” you asked, the sun shining on the side of your face from what he could see on his phone 

you were clearly still in bed but then again, you did just wake up 

“It was alright...” he tried to smile, trying to be okay but there was just something deeper about this hurt inside as it pooled 

even talking to you - when you would almost always heal him, right now, he couldn’t feel too much of it 

“I uh, lost my wallet today, so that’s bumming...” he rest his phone on his bed as he held it up with his hand, his chin resting into the side edge of his bed

“oh no, the one Natsu gave you?” you asked, hoping it wouldn’t be too serious. “Could you like call the police station and ask if they find it or if it like turns up?” 

“No.. it’s not like back home...” he sighed, clearly dejected 

your thoughts scurried as you thought of alternatives, thinking of ideas that you could possibly suggest to help him find it 

“How’s home? how’s everyone doing?” he asked, his voice light and soft, airy as if he had just woken up from a nap, his question reaching back home, back to the place he longed the most

where he wished he could be right now...

“shoyo, lean forward,” you smiled warmly, able to see his somewhat lagged, pixelated face through your phone

“what?” he asked confused 

“just bring your phone to your head. Im gonna pat your sadness away even though I can’t really do it how I normally would, but better than nothing.” 

He did as you asked, bringing his device to his forehead, feeling the warmth of the screen, feeling the breeze from his cracked windows open, letting his imagination take flight, imagining it was you that was here with him 

you sitting on the edge of his bed, patting his hair, playing with your tangerine as you normally would, his head resting in your lap 

“shoo shoo,” you cooed, silly, hoping this would help in the slightest 

he could hear the pat of your hand over your phone’s mic 

but there was just something 

this sudden hit of the real life that was his right now 

he was so far from home in a foreign country, chasing his dream when so many others his age right now would be at school, planning a career and their future for themselves 

and you 

you were so far 

his family, his friends, you, god you 

his nose sniffled as subtle rumbles sounded in his ears, his eyes blinking, widening with every blink to hide the sudden pink in them, the tears lining his waterline 

he kept his phone to his head, subtly seeing the glow of his screen through his closed eyes, wishing you really could reach through the phone or at least he could just be back home soon 

but there was quite a great time before this could happen and he knew it vividly 

“shoyo? You okay?” you held your own phone, turning onto your side so the sun no longer shined right into your eyes 

there was just calm breathing from his end before an airy “mmhm..” 

“Tsuki got promoted at the museum and I’m gonna be going out with Yachi later today, and then Yams is gonna join us..” you paused, still not seeing his face 

“We’re all doing okay, sho. So is Natsu and your mom,” you chimed cheerily for him. “They miss you just as much but don’t worry. You’re gonna be home before you know it and I just know you’re going to blow everyone away with how much you improved.” 

“I know you will, Sho. All the time you’re spending there will pay off..” you paused. “Even Kags thinks so, haha. We hang out together sometimes and he pretty often goes off about how you better be ready to go against him cause of your guys’ never ending battle.”  

“Thank you, Y/N,” and that was when you finally saw him. 

he smiled brightly with tears streaming down his cheeks, dripping off his chin 

these words

your voice 

this is what he needed 

he needed this more than anything to satiate the homesickness that grew within him every single day 

he needed to remember these words - that you and everyone are supporting him all the way across the world

bonus: from Chapter 371 - On The Other Side Of The Globe (vol 42/54) 

~~~~~

Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

Tags (let me know if you wanna be tagged or removed for all my haikyuu posts): @makeusfreefromthisfandom @yams046  @mazey-chan  @sunboikyo00  @kara-grayson04  @fortheloveofbakugo @tsumtsumsemi @1-800-wholesome @yamagucci @realityisoftendisapointing @plantisnotplant @pink-panda-pancakes @differentballooncollection @osamusamusamu@therainroguefanfiction @euphorihan @turquoiselace @macaronnv  @oxmaddy @mrkoala4prsdnt @curiouslilbeast @plantisnotplant@therestless101 @abcdaichi @oyasenpai @kaaidalupita @lovinnoya @wisepandaslimeland @killuaking @kattykurr @bbymilkbread @tsumtsumland @suunikimchi @woah-there-cowboy-or-cowgirl @amandahh626 @nabisonyeo94 @wntrmn @dai-tsukki-desu @peteunderoos @ohyoumakemelive @aka-a-shii @shinhiromi @wompwomphq @lollypop-lam @isentsworld @blue-melody @u-wakatoshii @moondriplets @lovinnoya @yuueisteria @humanitysbiggestsimp @cjphoenix135 @inarizaki-captain @closetfurrytsukishima @chibichab @kageyama-i-want-tobiors @kuroosbixh @lavearchives @sweet-sour-devil-ish @daichis-kitty @creepyproxies @itsmarziapei @skyh20 @yehetstudies @that-chick212 @proherotheflamehashira @celestair @katiea03 @manga-only​ @chesirekittycat @ilovecheese08 @amy-yurima @realityisabitch-blr @suga-tofu @ushislittlewife @nabisonyeo94  @aaprilshowers @emotional-ayato @to-move-on-means-to-grow @kellesvt @haikyuu-galaxy @8-eight-8 @xiaoqiji @japanesevenom @cemeiia @pantherhappy @sassyglassesbunny​ @devilgirlcrybabiey​  asd

[kanene-yaaay]

Talks, Teases and Tea

Warnings: I can’t think of any. They’re just talking about boundaries and lightly teasing and tickling ech other. Brief Ler!Aizawa and Lee!Hizashi with implied Lee!Toshinori. About 2500 words.

Kanene’s notes: Heya! I’ve been wanting to finish this fic for a while! I wanted to write a bit more about it because it is an interesting scenario but dfghjdfghjr I was already losing the tracks with this quite long fic, so, yay! I am glad I am finally sharing this w u all <3. I hope u like this ^v^

[~*~]

Toshinori winced at his own smile, staring at the cup of tea in front of him with an intensity that wasn't really needed. His gaze flicked quickly across the two guests in the room, analysing the situation. Aizawa drank his tea slowly, partly oblivious to Hizashi, who kept drumming his finger on the tabletop in a rhythm he was sure he heard somewhere, humming a song. Their gazes locked together and Toshinori couldn't help the slight blush which traveled to his cheeks. They quickly averted their eyes.

Aizawa's loud, exasperated sigh flew across the room. "You two are ridiculous."

Hizashi and Toshinori broke down in giggles, not really denying the black haired teacher words, the acknowledgement of how they, professional heroes trained to act through the nervousness and pressure, just spent minutes deviating glares and blushing like teenagers in love making them only laugh harder.

"It's kind of silly, isn't it?" Yagi was the first to get himself together, softly smiling under Shouta's intense eyes.

"Yes." The aforementioned retorted. "But it's necessary."

"We can't say it isn't even a bit awkward, though." Hizashi contemplated, stirring a spoon on his untouched drink. His smile became wicked as he wiggled his fingers in front of Aizawa's face. "Aren't you nervous about sharing your deepest desires with us, Shou?"

He yelped as the other batted his hand away, scoffing, not unkindly. "Stop, you're scaring Toshinori."

The attention switched to the taller one. Showing vulnerability was difficult to all of them, but to the former number one hero it sometimes felt as if he would never be able to fully do it.

He was working on that.

"Oh, shit, sorry,  I didn't mean to."

"It's okay, Hizashi-san." Yagi scratched at his neck, wondering if the hot feeling painting his cheeks would ever disappear. "I wouldn't be here if I didn't trust you with it." His grin was small, but honest.

Aizawa did his best to not get up from his chair and hide Toshinori on his capture weapon before he killed him with cuteness, just as he did with his cats. At his side, Hizashi made a show of placing his hands on his chest and crying "My heart!" dramatically as if he just got shot. All Might's face got even redder.

"Right." The erasure hero started before his urge became stronger. "Let's start with a safeword."

"Right." Yagi beamed, getting a small notepad in hands and hurrying to find a blank space on it. 

He looked up when no more suggestions filled the air, only to find a very amused green gaze staring right at him as the other grumbled something about not being awake enough for that and stole Hizashi's tea. "Toshi, dear, what are you doing?"

"I'm, uh, actually I…" He cleaned his throat. "My memory is kind of bad so I was wondering that I could, maybe, take notes?”

"Will they be coded?"

"Yes."

“Then I don’t care. Do what works for you.”

"Oooh," Yamada popped in, hands resting on the tabletop as his body inclined forward. "Clever! Such a clever idea! Can you teach it to me later? And let me take pictures?"

"O-of course, Hizashi-san."

Shouts huffed, amused. "You know he will use all that information against you, right?"

"Shhh! Shou, don’t expose my evil plan!"

"Maybe we could use the Spotlight system?" Yagi cut their bickering, knowing the lengths they could take their playfulness and he really doubted he would have the courage to finish this conversation another day.

"Bo-o-ring! We should choose something more unique and new! Something more like..." The blonde's eyes suddenly gathered a dangerous glint. "I am here."

"No."

"Absolutely not."

"No, no, no, Toshinori-san, hear me out, hear me out!" His words almost couldn't be understood across his crackles, the voice hero trying to make the Number One hero to stop hiding his face, knowing that any attempt of reasoning about this with Aizawa would be quickly ignored. "Think about it! Think carefully about it!"

The called one peaked between the fingers of the hand, opening his mouth to vehemently protest against the use of his hero persona’s trademark phrase, but then, in that exact moment Yamada pointed to Shouta.

Suddenly, a very clear image of his gloomy, reserved coworker, with a gigantic smile plastered on his face shouting "I am here!" between his frantic, low laughter filled his mind.

He took a steady breath.

"I am tempted," was his final verdict.

"Yes!"

"I refuse."

"Democracy is really a bitch isn't it?" Hizashi pouted in fake empathy. "I promise I won't tease you... too much."

"I can and will kill you both before that. I am an underground hero, I have my ways."

Yagi chuckled. "I still believe we could use the spotlight system, too. It's faster."

"Noo, Toshinori-san! We were almost winning!"

Aizawa flicked him on the forehead, lips quirking upwards before he sobered. "We also need a word to signal a need for a break and a non verbal one. That is not negotiable."

Hizashi blinked, red dusking his initially confident expression. "Oh, yeah, this is actually a very good idea."

"For the non verbal we could tap out?"

"Nope. I trash around too much, probably would do this without even realizing it…" How could Yamada talk so freely about this, Yagi would never truly understand. "Ah, I know! We could just snap our fingers!” He was fast to demonstrate his words. “Quick and easy!"

"And we could use Break as the other one, everyone agrees?" Aizawa nodded at the affirmative sounds said by the others. "Good. Bondage?"

Silence.

"I am… not very comfortable with it as the ler, but…" Hizashi drummed his fingers harder on the tabletop, stopping only when Aizawa gave his mug back, happy in occupying his antsy hands with it. "Sometime... When I am in a strong Lee mood, I like the light ones?"

"Always ask before, then." Yagi smiled kindly at him before scribbling that down. "Shouta-san?"

"Yes. Just not my arms."

"Right."

"And you Toshinori-san?"

The pencil stopped for a second. Yagi chuckled nervously. 

"...I don't really know."

He couldn't describe it. That not quite quite, but definitely there, feeling that accommodated on his chest everytime he thought about it.

"It's okay." Yamada reassured. "It's never too late to discover and try it! When you feel comfortable enough to do that, of course. Also, don’t forget: just one word and we will stop."

"This talk is important exactly because of that."

Warmth filled Yagi’s chest at care and the safety that flowed from each act, each word from the other two.

"Of course." His tune then became serious. When did he get so soft in the first place? "And, if any of your preferences change, warn me. This needs to be comfortable for all of us, right?"

"Will do."

Shouta hummed in agreement.

"Okay. Aaand what about petnames?"

Suddenly, Yagi was very, very happy for having that conversation in person and not through shy, quick messages in their shared group - how he first intended for it to be,- because otherwise he wouldn't have had the gold opportunity to watch how fast Aizawa’s face was able to blush entirely with a single sentence.

The Erasure Hero lifted his gaze, gave a quick glance between Hizashi’s smug expression and Toshinori’s truly awed one and immediately shrunk on his chair, arms crossed and grumpy grubbles being chewed under his breath, the red on his features still shining brightly. 

“Fuck.” Both of the other two integrants in the room snickered at the curse.

“Baaabeee.~”

“Shut up. I hate you.”

“My deeear, my adorably, adorable blushy toyy.~”

Shouta twitched in his place, an uncontrollable wobbly smile opening its way to his lips, butterflies jumping and dancing non stop on his stomach. He shrunk even further on the chair, refusing to hide his face only because he knew how much of a fuel that would be for both blondes.

(And, maybe because deep down, he liked the attention he was receiving.) 

“I am going to leave.”

“Aww, why? The serious, grumpy Shouta can’t stand letting his bestest friends knowing that he is actually a soft, adorable, flustered-” at each adjective Hizashi ignored the other’s - admitelly fake - sharp gaze in order to poke his stomach with every word. “-little wiggle lee?”

It took just a blink of an eye. In a second Yamada was tormenting him, having an absolute blast with the way Shouta’s blush was travelling all the way to his neck, chest shaking with his attempts to trap the bubbling giggles inside, and, on the other, the underground hero used their proximity to grab the Voice Hero’s hand and twist him so the blond would be trapped on his arms, a surprised high pitched sound flying the air.

“I would be very careful with my next words, if I were you.” The black haired hero adjusted them so his low tune would hit directly Hiazhi’s unprotected, and also very sensitive, ears, that act alone being able to fish more whining noises from the blond.

“And you.” Toshinori couldn’t help the way his soft smile turned into a nervous one when those black, deep eyes stared directly on the bottom of his soul, the redness of his face taking some of the sharpness of his words, however. “Don’t think you’re out of danger just because there is a table between us. We know I’m faster.”

“I wouldn’t dream about it, Shouta-san.” Yagi replied with an amused placating gesture, his entire face filled with softness. “I was just appreciating how considerate and attentive it was from Hizashi-san’s part to bring up such an important topic and also how great it was for you to let him have some fun before your immediate reaction.”

He watched with a sweet interest and a polite faked confusion, as if he couldn’t understand the impact his words and the implications they held, as their faces were set on flames again with his blunt honesty. 

“You’re on thin fucking ice.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Shouta-san!” The former number one hero chipped before innocently writing down a few more lines on his notes.

“Yagi-san!” Yamada whined. “I thought we were a team! Partners in crime! Two forces that gathered together to bring Shouta down. How could you betray me like that?!”

Toshinori just grinned free of any guilt, not taking long before he sobered again. “Is there, however, any nickname you’re not comfortable with, Shouta-san, Hizashi-san?”

The one with vivid green eyes seemed lost in thought for a moment, so the underground hero’s grumbles were easily noticed in the sudden silence.

“Just don’t call me any variation of ‘pet’ and you’ll be fine.”

“Thank you.” Toshinori replied, writing that information down as well.

“Oh, yeah, I just remembered something. It’s not really a nickname and more of a situation? I think it can be called that?” Hizashi cocked his head to the side, fingers tapping on the temple of his glasses. “I mean, it’s not the topic here and I can wait for when talk about it, of course! I just literally remembered it-”

“Hizashi. Spill it.”

“Right. Okay. Hm, don’t call for help while we’re at it?”

Shouta furrowed his eyebrows, not really getting the reason for the wish. His gaze found Yagi’s one and found confusion there as well, however both were quick to let it be buried  away by understanding.

If Hizashi wanted to share his reasoning in the future, he would. It was not in their place to question his boundaries.

“Of course, dear.”

Hizashi could barely describe the warm, nice feeling filling his chest when he heard Toshinori calling him that, immediately melting when Aizawa gave his back a few light scratches, not enough to tickle, but just the nice tad of a good, comforting gesture.

“Softies, softies. All of you.” He sing sang cheerfully at them.

A squeeze on his tummy made a loud squeal cut any other teasing he might come up with. “I can show Yagi how soft you can be.” Aizawa purred, his hands slowly crawling to strategic, ticklish spots on his belly and thighs. 

“Shouta. Shouta, wait! Y-you know I was only kidding, my dear, my sunshine, my old pal, my very kind, very, very forgiving friend!” Yamada’s wiggles become stronger, titters spilling from his lips in between his pleas, body squirming and trying to escape from the other’s still strong hold.

“Don’t think you will able to escape so easily, not after the whole ‘petnames’ topic you decided to bring up.” His titters evolved to fast giggles when Aizawa decided it would be a good idea to place surprising pokes and prodding on his skin. “Also, a serious, sad face doesn’t fit you.”

“We stihihill have to finish the conversation!” Aizawa hummed, not convinced. “Yagi, my hero, tell him!”

Toshinori wouldn’t point himself as a coward, really. He had faced and battled against all kinds of villains with a reassuring smile and a booming laughter on the tip of his tongue, he had survived a meeting with Nedzu and Gran Tourino’s training.

However, as Aizawa’s smirk was thrown in his direction in sync with a sharp, playful gaze, he couldn’t stop the excited squeak that escaped from his mouth.

Also, at the scene of a previously smug Yamada giggling himself silly and staring at him with a fake pout, maybe he couldn’t help but feel a little playful, as well. Besides, even though he would deny it until his end days, Yagi knew how much soft Aizawa truly was when it came to the people he cared about, therefore the underground hero would be careful to not cross any of the blond’s boundaries. 

“Oh, my, it seems like the tea is cold.” He got up, gathering the cups on his arms. “Maybe we could take a deserved break before discussing the rest of the topics, right? I will make more tea.” And he grinned, light and innocently, at Hizashi’s energetic protests, which grew more less like words and more like a mess of laughter, snorts and giggles as the tallest friend directed himself to the kitchen.

After a few more minutes of tickles, Aizawa stared at the smiley mess on his hold with a dangerous shine on his eyes.

“You’re really a tickle monster, aren’t you?” Hizashi chuckled.

“It’s not my fault that he really believes he can escape from the same fate of yours.”

Yamada huffed a laugh, lightly smacking his arms. “Go. But soon enough I will catch my breath, so don’t forget to watch your back. ~”

Aizawa gave his hips a warning pinch before snorting as he got up, looking at the kitchen’s direction with a smirk on his face. “Good luck with that.”

Needless to say, they had a very giggly break.

[spooky-nerd]

I Wrote an MSR Christmas Fic in September, Sorry

Christmas comes but once a year, or so he’s been told. Which means that he has 364 days (at least) to strategize. And yet, he never quite manages to be able to escape it.

He’s come close a small handful of times. A mere brush with victory followed by crushing defeat. In 1971 he was hospitalized with appendicitis on December 24. Unfortunately, the hospital gave out little teddy bears with santa hats that year to all of the children. In 1994, he tried lying low in his apartment, but Mrs. Sanders from across the hall had dropped off a fruitcake wrapped in red and green paper with a ridiculously frilled bow. The fruitcake had tasted horrible, but then that had been comforting, because he has never had a fruitcake that didn’t taste horrible and would find the very idea to be unsettling to say the least.

Twice he has nearly managed to avoid Christmas altogether. An almost impossible feat, and a coveted one amongst those who bemoan the holiday like he does.

He is not a grinch, as some would suspect, and his heart is not withered and cold. He does not have a propensity for stealing presents from under trees, and he has never once uttered the words “bah, humbug!”. He just does not care for Christmas.

This had come as a shock to Scully during their first year of partnership. She had whisked into the office on December 23rd in a cloud of merriment, smelling like peppermint and humming festively. “So, what are your Christmas plans?” she had asked innocently.

“Well, I’ll probably microwave some popcorn and watch Plan 9 From Outer Space,” he had said in complete seriousness. In spite of his delivery, she had laughed. Probably at the absurdity of it, which likely was obvious to outside observers, he had realized then. And yet, his world-weary soul had lacked the energy to care.

“You’re serious?” She had dropped the smile, and in its place was that frown of disappointment that he was rapidly becoming acquainted with. For some reason, he had felt a bit sheepish.

“Yeah, I’ve just never been one for the holidays.”

“But Mulder, it’s Christmas,” she had said, her incredulity ratcheting up impossibly higher.

“Oh I know, Scully. Trust me, I know. 104.9 started playing Christmas music in October. My building super put up tinsel in all the hallways on November 1st. I’ve been visually assaulted by this holiday on every street corner since the day after Black Friday. I know it’s Christmas. I just don’t really care.” He had shrugged, in case the rant came off a little too harsh. Not that Scully was easily intimidated. He was quickly beginning to learn that too.

She had shrugged, already poised to drop the subject. “Alright. Enjoy your popcorn, then.”

He had smiled. “Thanks, Scully.”

She had paused, turned back to him. He had gotten a whiff of peppermint again, and wondered if it was a new holiday perfume, or just the everyday magic of her. “You know, November 1st is a little early for tinsel.”

Looking back, it is possible that he had begun to fall in love with her then.

* * *

In the four years that Scully has been his partner, he has discovered that she has exactly one flaw: she loves Christmas. The music, the food, the gifts, the decorations, she eats them all up with a little festively-adorned spoon. At his request, she had refrained from stringing lights up in the office, but in exchange, he is forced to accept one Christmas gift from her each year.

Of course, he isn’t a monster, so every year, he buys her a present, too. Usually something quite ridiculous and useless. Their second Christmas together, he had bought her a mug depicting the entire cast of General Hospital. “It made me think of you,” he had said, to which she had raised an eyebrow and smiled, sliding her own present across the desk to him with false demureness. He had given her a suspicious look and ripped into the gift with exaggerated zeal, just to make her laugh. With delight he had pulled out a tie with little green aliens and flying saucers.

“Scully,” he had said, completely smitten. She had smiled and shrugged. He had decided that is was possible he didn’t hate gift exchanges as much as he had previously thought.

* * *

On December 23rd, 1997, he walks into the office and she is not there. It is not a surprise to him, but it is a blow nonetheless. She should be here, bringing him hot chocolate in addition to his morning coffee, placing a gift on his desk wrapped in ribbon so clinquant and overwhelmingly jubilant that it makes his eyes hurt. She should be here, making him dislike the holiday less and less with each passing moment. And if she can’t be here, he should be there with her. He calls Skinner and tells him he is taking a personal day. He does not explain further but he does not need to.

“Okay. Tell her I said Merry Christmas,” Skinner says.

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

* * *

Within an hour, he is at her doorstep with a hazardously overstuffed plastic grocery bag, a six-foot spruce that is growing heavier by the minute, and a gift wrapped in paper that had been sparkly at one time but has now transferred all of its glitter onto his coat.

It takes her a worryingly long time to answer the door. But she does eventually, looking completely drained, a sweater wrapped around her thin frame. She is cold all the time now and she never complains but it has not escaped his notice. She looks exhausted, but it stops his breath how beautiful she is all the same.

She is surprised to see him. Even more shocked by the one-man window display he has become.

“Mulder? What are you doing?” Confusion, but also a smile in her voice that he can see glittering in her eyes, too.

“I thought I’d bring the party to you, Scully.” He is still a little out of breath, but he smiles, and finally she laughs, melodic and joyful. She lets him in.

* * *

With the muted tones of Bing Crosby playing smooth and unobtrusive underneath, he makes them hot chocolate, dons a Santa hat, and gets to work decorating her tree. She sits on the end of her couch nearest him and opens up the little boxes of colorful Christmas ornaments, handing them to him one-by-one with delicate care. He gets tangled more than once in the Christmas lights, each time extricating himself in a flurry of limbs and curses. It’s worth it to hear her laugh. He wants to close his eyes and listen to the sound and pretend everything is okay.

When he is finished, she holds out her hands wordlessly and he helps her stand up. He wraps an arm around her and they lean against one another, admiring the finished tree. He wonders if she knows it means so much more to him than just a nice gesture. Her grip tightens around him in a brief hug.

“Mulder,” she says softly. “I don’t even know what to say. You really didn’t have to do all this.”

They are quiet for a moment. Bing Crosby sings that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. He finds that he agrees.

“I wanted to, Scully. I wanted to be here. The office doesn’t feel right without you,” he says. “Besides, you would’ve done the same.”

She huffs a small laugh. “You hate Christmas.”

“No I don’t.” She looks up at him and he meets her gaze. “I don’t.”

* * *

Exactly one year later, she is safe and whole and mulling over a file, tapping an absent beat on their desk with her pencil. He bounds into the office, over-laden with a diverse assortment of ridiculous Christmas paraphernalia. He dumps it all on the floor in an unceremonious heap, shakes the snow out of his hair, and tosses her a goofy smile.

“Hey, Scully,” he says, out of breath. “Wanna help me deck the halls?”

When they are finished, the office has never looked more unprofessional. They couldn’t be prouder of themselves. Before she leaves for the night, she gives him his gift and a kiss on the cheek. Also very unprofessional, as is the alarming rate at which his heart is beating. It’s just about the only thing he can think about over the holidays, and that in itself brings clarity.

* * *

Her hand is icy where it settles atop his on the steering wheel. He risks only a brief glance in her direction. ‘It’s really coming down out there,’ he had said obligatorily about thirty minutes earlier, squinting into the critical sliver of light their headlights were slashing through the dark flurries of snow.

“Let’s stop for the night,” she says. He nods and gets off at the next exit without question.

They find a motel down a nearly deserted back road that makes them both touch the concealed weapons at their hips just for comfort. The attendant wordlessly accepts their cash and slides them a key.

“You know what’s messed up?” he says as he flops onto the bed after a cursory inspection for suspicious stains.

“What?” she says, rooting through her bag for their toothbrushes. 

“I don’t even know where we are.”

She sighs, a weary sound that he has gotten used to hearing in the months they’ve been on the road. Almost four months now.

“We are somewhere in the southern part of Kentucky. That’s all I know.”

“Scully,” he begins, the word absolutely riddled with guilt.

“Mulder, stop. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” They’ve had this small scrap of conversation several times. He keeps waiting for her response to change but it never does.

Silence except for her continued rummaging. Then, a triumphant “Aha!”

He peeks out from under the arm slung across his face. “What-“ He stops at the sight of her wearing a santa hat and holding a lumpy package wrapped in newspaper and held together with duct tape. She smiles and inclines her head triumphantly. The hat tilts adorably and the little pompom falls in front of her face. He laughs in spite of everything. In the spirit of the season, she joins him.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

He shakes his head, in awe once again. “I love you.”

* * *

In an unremarkable house, in an unremarkable room, in an unremarkable chair sits a man. He is unremarkable in some ways and remarkable in others. He is holding in his hand a two-inch long replica of a Louisville Slugger that has been made into a keychain. A gas station trinket, unremarkable in some ways and remarkable in others. He turns it over in his hands and cannot help the smile that spreads across his face. It takes him back to a motel on a snowy night in southeastern Kentucky, and he has a mind to stay there awhile.

She walks in at that moment, wearing the most hideous sweater he has ever seen. After a moment of stunned silence he lets out a loud gut laugh. She smiles, spreading her hands in a silent ‘ta-da’. The sweater is red and green, and knit into it are alternating rows of Christmas trees, presents, wreaths, some colorful blobs that inexplicably might be potted ferns, and a pair of kissing reindeer, both of which have antlers.

“You look horrible,” he says, still chuckling. “I love it.”

“I found it at a Goodwill.”

“An ironic name for a store that would sell such an act of violence.”

She laughs. “I’m thinking of adding it to my regular rotation. I could get you one, too, and then we could match.”

“Well, people in town already think we’re crazy. Maybe it’s time to start leaning into it.”

She heads to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate, and he puts his hand in his pocket for the thousandth time that day, touching the small box like he’s afraid it will disappear. While she putters around the kitchen, he stares at the winking lights of their Christmas tree and gathers his thoughts.

Within minutes she is back with two steaming mugs filled much too full, sloshing dangerously. She sips a little out of both of them, burns her tongue, and hands him his. The mugs are hot. She pulls her sleeves up until only the tips of her fingers are peeking out and holds the mug that way. He watches the entire scene, completely enamored.

She throws herself onto the couch with a sigh and it is a Christmas miracle that she does not spill any of the hot chocolate on that horrendously festive sweater. He settles down next to her and sips gingerly from his mug, contemplating the mystery of those reindeer.

“Is it a misunderstanding of deer anatomy or a political statement, do you think?” she says, clearly reading his mind. He makes a mental note to open up an unofficial investigation into how she keeps being able to do that.

“All I know is it’s my favorite thing you’ve ever worn.”

“Aww. Thanks.”

“I am curious about those potted ferns, though.”

“Is that what they are?”

They wait there together, sipping and talking about everything and nothing until the hour whittles down to nil and the clock strikes midnight, Christmas Day. He puts an arm around her shoulders and marvels at the way her head fits so perfectly in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Merry Christmas, Scully.” He whispers it like a treasured secret.

She turns to kiss him. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers back. Then she is up, grabbing his presents. She is eager for him to see one of them, and has been carrying the secret of what it is around with her for weeks. She hands it to him first, and he makes a show of opening it agonizingly slowly. She rolls her eyes and shoves him gently until he picks up the pace.

“Oh wow, Scully,” he says softly when he pulls the tissue paper aside to reveal a vintage restored Polaroid camera. “Thank you. This…wow.” He runs a hand over the glossy surface appreciatively, and then points it at her. “Say cheese.”

Within moments, the photo of her completely unprepared and squinting painfully at the sudden flash develops.

“Ugh,” she giggles.

“I’m keeping it.” He slips it into his pocket before she can snatch it away. His knuckles bump the small box, and he swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

He retrieves the gift from under the tree and watches her open it. “Oh, Mulder,” she says, pulling the typewriter out of its box. He’d had to place an anonymous ad in the paper for that one. They had decided at the beginning of their life on the run that they would use only the most basic technology, which meant burner phones and nondigital alternatives. “It’s beautiful.”

It is. It’s an Underwood, glossy white, impeccably maintained. He’d paid a small fortune to a very old man for this one. They had met in a public park. He had paid in cash. The man had brought it in an old shoebox inside a brown paper grocery sack. The whole transaction had felt vaguely illegal. The man had looked at least 100.

“Thank you.” She gives him a hug. She smells like hot chocolate and peppermint. It reminds him of a Christmas many years ago. A conversation about why he didn’t like Christmas. Oh how things have changed.

“Actually, there’s one more thing,” he says when she pulls away. She raises an eyebrow. She hates to be outdone, especially on Christmas. Incredulity turns into disbelief when he pulls out the small box.

“Mulder,” she whispers. Her eyes fill with unshed tears when he gets on his knee in front of her, and if he’s going to make it through this, he cannot look at her.

“Scully, I-“ his voice catches immediately. He clears his throat. “I know that the past few years have been…well there’s no words for it. You are the only thing that has gotten me through. You’ve been there Scully, since the beginning you’ve been there and I- I can’t imagine my life without you. I want so much more for you. You deserve so much more, and I…I wish that I could give you more. But this is all I have to offer, Scully. This is everything I have. I want to grow old with you and, and love you and support you and laugh with you until the end of time. I promise to be faithful. I promise to have your back and to be there for you always.” He takes a shaky breath. “Dana Katherine Scully, will you marry me?”

He looks into her eyes, and he sees everything there. The love and devotion that had started small and fragile and had grown into something ineffably strong. He cannot imagine a life without this woman. Bing Crosby’s voice floats quietly over from the record player, singing about having a merry little Christmas. He wants a life with her, a thousand more little Christmases just like this one, filled to the brim with ridiculous, garish holiday cheer. She takes a deep breath, the words that will determine their future poised on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes. Of course I will.”

- - - - - - - -

Note: Btw, I wasn’t lying about that sweater

[tinydooms]

I want to hear all the details of the haunted Carnahan home in England and how Rick gets involved in all the routines involved in caring and living with the haunted corners of the mansion. Like a weird english version of Island of the Aunts.

The Thing That Lives Behind the Radiator didn't always live behind the radiator. Once, a long time ago, it lived in a seaside mansion in a place that was warm and sunny and that knew how to take care of household spirits. Once, a long time ago, it received offerings of honey cakes and wine and in return it looked after the family. There was always a lot of family, but it liked them: babies who grew into funny toddling things who became weird little kids who grew into interesting young people who eventually brought forth babies of their own to begin the cycle again.

Then, one strange day, a Foreigner came to town. The family that lived in the big house was in a bad way. They needed money to send the Old Mother to hospital for her health, and so they sold many of their books and trappings, including the little cupboard altar in which the little god lived. And so the little god was brought to a cold and dreary place, wrapped in a packing crate lined with straw, and it was desperately unhappy. Its new home was also a mansion, but it was big and cold and dark, and for a long time, the god sulked in its forgotten altar. At least there is a fireplace nearby. But it is never really warm here, and there are no children allowed in the library, and the little god is desperately lonely and sad.

There are other spirits in the house, of course; there always are. There is a White Lady upstairs, not the ghost of a murdered woman but that of a girl who loved ghost stories and spooky things and who is spending her afterlife comfortably haunting her descendants, just because she can (the lunatic). There are other ghosts who are less hospitable towards the living, but the White Lady keeps them away and none of them seem to be interested in the little god in the library. There is also a mummy in the downstairs study, whose ka came to look at its former body's whereabouts, shook its head, and reincarnated as a goat famer in Indonesia. The little god, who now guards nothing and has no one, mostly ignores them all.

One day there is a big family blowup, and that is the first time it really pays attention to the foreigners who stole it away. The eldest son, Alexander, brings home a woman with dark hair and shining eyes and brown skin, and the Family is Not Having It. Unfortunately for them, Alexander does not care and neither does his new wife. And fortunately for the little god in the library, Salwa comes from a land that is hot, and the first thing they do is install radiators all over the house. The other spirits don't like that, but they do not have the same power as the god who lives in the fireplace, and for the first time in a long time, it feels like asserting itself. The radiators are installed in good working order, and the little god moves into the space behind it, just under the window.

Alexander and Salwa aren't at the house much, but when they are, they spend time in the library and the little god grows to love them. The couple love books and each other; they are always reading and learning and laughing and talking. One day they arrive with a baby in tow, a healthy boy, and the little god creeps out from behind the radiator to look at him in his basket. It is only a little god, but it blesses the child: you will live a long and happy life. The baby blinks sleepily up at it and coos.

Five years later, another baby is brought into the library with its parents and brother: a sweet baby girl. The little god blesses her, too, and sits and listens while Salwa reads stories aloud to her children. For the first time in many years, it feels soothed.

The little girl, Evelyn, is always in the library. From a young age little Evie loves books: the look of them, the feel of them, the smell of them, the stories they contain. She comes in, first toddling, then skipping, then with purpose, and sits at the table or before the fire and reads for hours. One day, when she is quite small, she drops a pencil: it rolls under the radiator and hits the little god. Evie drops down onto her belly to look and the two come face to face.

This little girl has curly dark hair and glowing green eyes. She resembles less the foreigners who stole the little god from its home than she does the people it originally loved. For a long moment the two of them stare at each other, and then little Evie smiles and fetches out a biscuit from her pinafore pocket and slides it under the radiator. The little god slides her back the pencil. From that day on, they are friends.

Evie can't actually see the little god, of course, especially the older she gets, but she always knows it is there. And she understands the concept of offerings: whenever she comes into the library, she always leaves a cup of tea and a biscuit or something under the radiator. The little god appreciates this and looks after the books in return. It looks after Jonathan, too, though it never quite has the same relationship with him as it does his sister. Jonathan doesn't always remember to leave offerings, but he greets the little god whenever he comes into the library ("Hello, old thing!") and that's good enough.

When the War comes and Jonathan enlists, the little god creeps out from behind the radiator and blesses its boy as he spends his last night in his bed. You will survive; you will come home. And Jonathan does come home, but he is not the same: he limps about on crutches and can't sleep without screaming. Sometimes he hides in the library for hours, all the lights out, and weeps quietly. The little god does what it can, but the horror is too deep in Jonathan's soul. This is a wound that only time can heal.

And then, one terrible day, news comes that Alexander and Salwa are gone, killed in a terrible accident, and it is both Evie and Jonathan who sit sobbing in the library. The little god sobs too. It had loved the parents as much as it loves the children.

And then Evie and Jonathan go away for a long time. The little god sits behind the library radiator and mourns for its missing family, for the love and laughter that no longer fill the house. It awaits the day when they return. Please let them return.

The White Lady bangs on the pipes, bored that no one is there to appreciate her antics. The ka of the mummy in the study comes back to visit its former body again, scoffs to find it still propped against the wall, and reincarnates again, this time as an Italian opera singer. And the little god waits.

Evie and Jonathan come back one fine spring day, and they bring with them a new person. The little god peeks out from behind the radiator at Evie's new husband as its family take tea. When Evie brings a cup and a crumpet to leave under the radiator ("We're back, old thing! I hope you didn't miss us too terribly."), Rick O'Connell looks surprised, but he doesn't say anything. He is a big man and a kind one, and as the little god grows used to him, it begins to love him as much as it loves Evelyn and Jonathan. Rick has the air of a man well-traveled, one who understands that there are many unexplained things in the world and who doesn't mind the presence of a little god behind the radiator. He even leaves offerings sometimes: peppermints and bits of chocolate and occasionally even a slug of brandy or whiskey. Rick has his own spirit who follows him about: a woman with red-blond hair and a bright Irish face who looks after him in the way the spirits of Alexander and Salwa look after Evie and Jonathan. Will you look after my son? she asks the little god one day, and that night, the little god goes upstairs and blesses the sleeping man. You will live a long life and be happy.

And one day, a baby is born upstairs, as Rick and Jonathan wait in the library. The little god is not fretful the way the men are; it has blessed Evelyn and her child and knows they will be fine. Later, when Rick has met his child and kissed his wife and cried with happiness, the little god is surprised when the big man rolls a cigar under the radiator for it.

"Thanks, pal," he says. "Thanks for looking after us."

The new baby is blond and chubby and the worst handful of a child the little god has seen since his mother, and the little god just adores him. It blesses the boy--you will always be safe--but recognizes that it might have to do more for this one than simply sit behind the radiator. And one evening Alex puts on a magical bracelet, and men from a far away land come to harm the family, and the little god climbs out of its place behind the radiator and into it's boy's pocket and is carried off on an adventure, but that is a story for another day.

[someone1348]

Another one *mind blown!*

Haha anyways enough of me being werid here is a small fic because i feel soft today and its been a good day! Let's goooo!

People in this: Ler!Techno and Lee!Tommy

(PLATONIC!!!)

Plot: Baby Tommyint was left alone for Techno to babysit while phil and will went out to the store, what could go wrong

Tw: None this is so soft and adorable i can't

With that being said enjoyyyy :]

___________~☆°♡°☆°♡°☆~______________

Munchkin

It felt like a normal afternoon, wasting the day in his room, punching things, ploting ideas on how to over throw the government. You know the normal Techno things when,

"Tech! Im going out to the grocery store and im taking Will with me! You're in charge of Tommy while we're out! No killing him, hurting him, handing him dangrous objects or burning down the house while we're gone! K'?!"

No! This can't be happening! Technoblade jumped out of his bed rushing down the stairs to confront his dad and slightly younger brother.

"Woahwoahwoahwoah! You can't do this to me! You know how i am with kids! Me and children do not mix! Why can't you take him with you? Or Will stays and watches him while i go with you"

"Sorry Tech my mind is made up, we are leaving, now be nice and no murder got it"

"But-"

"Techhh"

"Ughhhhh fine! Fine! I wont punt the kid"

"Good, let's go will"

"Coming!" Will smirked at techo sticking out his tongue

Techno glared at him before waving the two off turning around to see the younger who had already reached out to touch Techno's long hair before retracting his hand back.

"No touch"

"Lame" the tiny blonde went to his room getting a cheese stick while techno rolled his eyes going to his own room down the hall

'This is going to be a long night'

Its not that Techno hated kids he just didn't know how to take care of them and that didn't sit well with him there was just something about em' he couldn't ever figure it out.

Not even two minutes later a small knock was placed on his door.

He sighed "yesssss"

"You're supposed to take care of me"

"And?" Techno said opening up the door

"And im bored so fix it, play with me!" the young one said staring up at the pink haired male

"Yeah no, fix it yourself bud im not playing with you"

Tommy rolled his eyes going downstairs hoisting himself with all his might onto the big couch rolling over onto one of the cushions just barley making it, catching his breath before turning on the tv to some cartoon he liked.

Tommy groaned annoyed from boredom and a bit sad that his big brother didn't wanna play with him.

Soon enough he began to cry a bit quickly whiping them away, he's a big man afterall he doesn't cry! But he just wants to play with his big brother.

Light footsteps approached the kid

"You cryin'?"

"N-no! I dont cry! Im a big man!"

"Mhm, come here" Techno sat next to the blonde pulling him into a hug

Techno didn't understand what was happening or what he just did but something in him was different, Tommy was family and no way in hell was he gonna let him cry.

He lightly sighed turning off the Tv "What do you wanna play butthead"

"PIRATES!!!"

The pinkette couldn't stop the growing smile on his face and he let this new found playful attitude take over him

'Ah what the hell what did he have to lose'

"Arggggg!" Techno said with his deep/raspy voice "prepare to walk the plank matey!"

"Argg no! Its you who walks the plank!" Tommy stood up pointing a pencil at techo

"Ah ha but that's were you're wrong see i also have defense!" He grabbed another pencil from the nearby coffee table pointing it eraser end at the kid as to not harm him with the sharp side

"Uhh whats the word? I dont know how to say it"

"On gaurd!"

"Yeahh!! Ha!" Baby Tommy said taking a swing at his older brother as the two slapped there pencils together like swords

"Boop! I win!!" Tommy said as he poked the pencil into Techno's chest

"Ahh nooo you got me!" Techno flopped down on his back snatching Tommy up in the process lifting him in the air and back down as he giggled up a storm.

Techno safely put the pencils back, drawing his attention back to his younger brother.

"You know stabbing me was not cool Tommy" Techno joked with the kid as Tommy's smile turned into a frown

"Sorry! I- i didn't-"

"You need to be careful who you mess with Tom's because they might come back to bite you!"

He swiftly picked up the kid again, as he squeaked, digging into his stomach soft enough to not hurt him of course but definitely enough to tickle alot

"EE! NAHAHAHAHA TEHEHEHE" the kid tried to say his name but couldn't which to that Techno smirked and continued his tickle attack.

"This is what happens when you mess with the wrong person kid" He lightly giggled and tickled the boys sides

"Eee! HAHAaha tehehechnoho! Stahahap!"

"Hmmmm nope! Tickletickletickletickle"

He teased the boy switching between his sides and stomach occasionally dipping quickly into his bellybutton to watch him squeak every so often.

"nahahAHAhahAH! tehe-HEHEheHEY!"

"Im gonna getcha'!"

"Nohohoho!"

The older squeezed his knee earning a quick kick before using the end of his long braided pink hair to tickle his neck

"Pfft ehehew get awahahay"

Techno laughed and wiggled the pink hair all over his face to keep him giggling

"Ehehewww it got in my mouth! Haha"

"Thats what you get punk" He ruffled the blonde's hair and sat him up straight.

"You want ice cream?"

The boy's eyes lit up and he nodded rapidly

"Okay okahay let's go" he carried the boy with one hand to the kitchen making a small bowl of ice cream with whipped cream and a cherry.

"Thank you Technooo!"

"Anytime Munchkin, but you can't tell Phil or Will about this Okay?"

The boy nodded shoving a spoonful into his mouth.

As the boy finished techno put the bowl in the sink filling it with water.

The door opened

"We're home!!"

"DAD! WILL!!" the youngest ran out to greet his family hugging their legs tightly

"Welcome back"

"How was it?"

"Really good actually"

"Yeahh!" The kid agreed jumping up and down.

"Good im glad that's great news, maybe i should leave you two alone more often"

"Sounds good to me"

"Im shocked" Will said laughing a bit

"Ha ha you're hilarious" Techno said in his usual sarcastic tone

"Tech Tech can we play again pleaseeeeeee"

"Its getting late we will play tomorrow yeah?"

"Ughhh willlll can we please play piano gameee pleaseee"

"You heard the man it's getting late go to bed Champ"

"Okayyyyy G'night Techno! G'night Dadza! G'night Willl!"

"Goodnight Munchkin'" Techno ruffled the boy's hair before pushing him lightly making him giggle and ran to his room.

"Munchkin?" Phil said smirking

"Oh shut your mouth old man"

"You wanna go tech"

"Uhhhhh ha ha ill be in my room it was nice! Goodnight everyone ha ha ha-ZOOM!" he ran out and nervously laughed as Phil laughed and and smiled

"You'll get him one day dadza"

"Oh i plan on it as soon as the fucker wakes up"

"Hahaha"

"You're not safe either will" he smirked at him as will booked it to his room too

"Hahaha"

Phil smiled and walked to his room leaving on the bathroom light for Tommy.

"Goodnight boys!"

"Night dad!!"

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

Please! This was so adorable to make im definitely making a part two! I hope y'all enjoyed :]

[illyaana]

Squiggles - Oikawa Tooru

Thanks to @pocky-writes for this collab! It was so fun to do~ Check out all the other writers involved in the collab here ヾ(•ω•`)o

Tags: Oikawa's POV, Angst, Minor Fluff, Cursing, Kissing, SFW, Manga Spoiler (Oikawa and Iwaizumi's future jobs)

Synopsis: You entered Oikawa's life - and it hasn't been the same ever since. (If I give anymore, it'll be spoilers TwT) (I also named Oikawa's sis Miho-)

Word Count: 4334

⋯⋯ ⫍ SFW Masterlist ◍ Navigation ⫎ ⋯⋯

Liked my writing? Do you want a drabble specifically made for you about your love life with a character of your choosing? Check out my 50 followers event over here!

All stories are basically a squiggly line - it has ups and downs with multiple loops in random spots. Some parts might be thicker or shorter than others, but all points of the story make up a giant, huge squiggly line that either brings you joy or sadness. I wanted my story to be as thick and long as possible - to outshine all the other squiggles the world has to offer. It was going to be the best squiggle ever until you came along and made it loopier and uneven.

.

.

.

I remember the first day you came into our class so vividly.

I had rushed to the school to copy Iwa-chan’s homework. The Kitagawa Daiichi blazer I wore was soaked in sweat thanks to me running a few blocks in several minutes. Of course, Iwa was in the classroom, waiting for school to start. He had rolled up his sleeves and was reading the literature component assigned to us - the very book I never touched ever since volleyball practices began.

“You are of a different breed, Oikawa,” Iwa-chan mumbled as he passed his book to me, “This is the last time you’re doing this.”

No, it isn’t.

“Yes, sir.”

I pulled out my book and began to move at top speed, hoping I would finish before class began.

That’s when you opened the door, breaking my concentration.

You were glowing. The school blazer seemed so big on you - as if someone with a bigger physique gave it to you - but you look so precious in it. You had a jump in your step, a wide smile plastered on your face. Your hair looked so soft even from a mile away. You seemed so at peace with everything - even when you entered a new school.

You carried yourself with such confidence it scared me.

I loved being the confident one, the hot one, the cheerful one - yet you stole those roles from me the second you walked into the school campus.

I didn’t know what I felt; was it inferiority or was it just pure admiration? Maybe a combination of both?

All of this… It was so new to me.

I was always surrounded by those who were eager for my approval - to be part of my posse and be connected to me in some way, but I just wanted to be around you. It was the first time I ever took an interest in anyone excluding my volleyball team.

It’s weird, isn’t it? The feeling of warmth rushing through your skin, but your throat just feels tight - it doesn’t want you to say anything you would regret, so it tries to hold you back. Your palms sweat and become clammy, goosebumps rise on your skin - it is so freeing yet restricting.

I wanted to come and welcome you to the school - maybe take you around the school grounds, show off a bit at the gym, find out who you are as a person - if I got lucky, even get your phone number.

“ ‘kawa, are they new? I feel like I’ve never seen them before…” Iwaizumi asked, pulling on my rolled-up sleeve.

Of course, this had to happen, didn’t it?

Iwaizumi tried to cover his red face with his arms, but he was failing miserably. His forehead began to sweat, a trail of water dripping down his chin. His chocolate eyes glowed just like your skin - so much so you could see the hazel flecks within them. His whole arm was covered in raised goosebumps, just like mine.

He was attracted to you.

“I think they are,” I replied, hiding my feelings with a smile, “Why Iwa-chan? Oh my god Iwa, you’re blushing!”

Iwaizumi threw a book to my face, earning a groan from me.

“Shut up, Shittykawa,” he says, blushing in a deeper red, “...but yeah, I think I do.”

“Well, if you want them to swoon for you just like how almost all the girls of the school do for me, I can help you. Just with the daily fee of milk bread during recess, I can turn your single ass into a full-fledged bachelor!” I say, trying to lighten up the mood.

“I'll buy you milk bread for lunch, either way,” he mumbled.

“See? It’s basically free, isn’t it? The best part of it all; it comes with a free gift! A box of milk every day so that you can grow taller-” Book number two found its place on my forehead once again.

“You’re such an idiot,” he says midst chuckling, “Thanks for the offer, Tooru. I think I’ll do this by myself, though.”

“Ok, then! Just so you know, the offer is always on the table,” I smirk, teasing the shorter male even more, “Don’t forget the milk.”

“I am never buying you anything ever again.”

.

.

.

Classes went on as usual, but I couldn’t focus at all.

I kept on staring at you from my seat - enjoying every single thing you did. I saw how you’d raise your shoulders in frustration when you couldn’t understand a question, how you’d bite the end of your pencil when you were focusing on the class, how you’d play with your fingers when you were stressed - I was taking mental notes without even realizing it. I loved all the small little huffs you’d make when you’re agitated. Judging by how you were speeding through most of the questions, you seemed to be a smart student.

I kept on playing small scenarios that I would do to get your attention.

Maybe I’d ask you a question and act like I couldn’t understand the whole topic so that you could tutor me, or I should just ask you about your opinions on the essay topic we discussed in class, or I could tease you about that small thing you did in front of the classroom when the teacher wasn’t looking.

But I would never do that to Iwaizumi.

My mind replayed that small scene of him blushing just at the mere glance of you. If he could, he would’ve already gushed about you to me - tell me all the things I already knew just by looking at you. He’d go on and on about how you squinched your nose when you drank that hot drink a bit too early and burnt your tongue.

His squiggle was already slowly moving around you, making a loop fitted for you and you alone - and I will happily watch from the sidelines when you two finally become a thing.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Welcome back, Tooru!” My sister said from the kitchen, “Give me a minute, I’m helping mom prepare lunch.”

I placed my bag in front of my room and headed to the kitchen.

“Don’t make poison, please!” I tease her, enjoying the annoyed expression on her face.

“Tooru!” Mom sighed, “We’re inviting our new neighbors for dinner today. Go shower and get ready.”

I stuck my tongue out at my sister, earning an anger-filled hum from my mother. I ran to my room and soon headed to the shower to get ready.

Slinging the white towel on my shoulder, I head back to the kitchen area and set the table for the meal.

“Where are they from again?” Miho asked Mom.

“They’re apparently from Tokyo. The father passed away recently, so the mother had to bring the rest of the family to Miyagi to reduce the financial burden. Sad, isn’t it?” she replied.

“We should help them here and there,” Miho started, “We don’t need to give them money, but maybe help them get used to the city?”

I nodded, but I wasn’t present in the conversation ever since Mom mentioned Tokyo.

“Do they have a kid my age?” I ask, hoping that I’m wrong.

“I think there’s one that just transferred to your school?”

Please, don’t be who I think it is.

The doorbell rang, shaking me out of my thoughts.

I slowly headed to the door, gripping the doorknob tightly as I slowly opened the door.

I was right.

“Hello, Oikawa-san! It’s me, Y/N, from your class,” you said, a smile on your face.

“I just wanted to thank you and your family for your generous offer, but we can’t join you for dinner today,” you started, “Mom has to go get some things settled before she can come for dinner. Sorry, again…”

“What about you? Have you eaten anything yet?” My mom asked as she walked towards the door, “If you want, you can eat dinner here and bring some back for your mom.”

“Really?!” Your lips widened, “Thank you so much, aunty!”

You sat right beside me, just like Iwa-chan does when he comes over. I loved seeing you talk so comfortably with my family. I could see my mom’s adoration towards you when you talked about your life back in Tokyo. Your eyes lit up when you talked about your family - even if you were talking about your father.

You didn’t know it yet, but your presence makes my squiggle a little lighter.

“What school are you going to, Y/N?” Mom asked.

“I’m going to Kitagawa Daiichi like Oikawa-san. I am in his class, actually... “ you trail off.

“Do you want me to walk you to school? I don’t mind doing it, but Iwaizumi would be joining us too. Are you okay with that?” I ask, gripping the ends of my shirt.

For the first time in my life, I hated the fact I had to be beside Iwaizumi.

“Thanks, Oikawa-san. It means a lot,” you smiled.

.

.

.

I regret asking you that question.

I had to see Iwaizumi try to flirt with you.

I had to see how you’d occasionally lean your head on my shoulder when we walked to school until Iwaizumi met up with us in the middle of our walk to school.

I had to see Iwaizumi carry your bag - something I wanted to do.

I had to see Iwaizumi make small jokes to you - something I wanted to do.

I had to see you enjoy Iwaizumi’s presence - something I wanted you to only feel for me.

I had to let it happen in front of me, didn’t I?

Books and movies never compare to the real thing; to see the person you love gush over someone you love like a sibling.

But you were closest to me, not Iwa-chan.

You came to me when you had problems, not Iwa-chan.

You stayed over at my place to relax, not Iwa-chan’s.

You watched movies with me, played games with me, told secrets to me - not Iwa-chan.

Your squiggle intertwined with mine more than Iwa-chan’s.

“Tooru,” you said as you played with the rogue strands of my hair as your head laid on my lap, “Do you want to go out on a trip?”

“What? Why?”

“We’re graduating, but we never had a trip together. It’s weird, isn’t it?” You say, slowly getting up.

I pushed your head back on my lap, earning a muffled squeal from you.

“It isn’t, to be honest,” I say, “...but I do like the idea.”

“So, we’re doing it?” you say as you wiggle your feet in excitement.

“Yeap. I’ll ask Iwa-chan if he wants to join,” I say as I grab my phone.

“I was kind of hoping that it would be just the two of us? I haven’t been able to talk to you without anyone intervening for a long time, and there’s a lot I wanna talk about.”

You looked at me, hoping for some reaction, but I couldn’t say anything.

If I was not friends with Iwaizumi, I would’ve said yes almost immediately.

I know I love you - ever since I saw you, I have.

But Iwaizumi deserves someone amazing like you.

I don’t.

“Tell me, then! I don’t think Mom’s coming home anytime soon and Miho is working right now, so there isn’t anyone who’d disturb us now,” I say through gritted teeth.

I felt your disappointment when you sighed and moved to lie down on my bed.

“I guess I’ll tell you another day.”

I felt your squiggle moving away from me - moving on without mine.

.

.

.

Soon, our one-week trip to Tokyo began.

Thanks to months and months of pestering, our parents let us go by ourselves to the city you grew up in.

I could see everything in your eyes, thanks to your stories about this place. The small, quaint shops, the smell of freshly made Taiyaki at the side of the road, the small kids running on the pavement while being chased by angry parents - all of it.

“Oikawa!” you patted my shoulder, “That’s the bakery I talked about last time. You know, the one with amazing cheese tarts? Oh, that’s where my dad gave me my first cup of coffee!”

Iwaizumi chuckled as he focused on the road, admiring your love for the city.

“Why are you laughing, pine cone hair?” You tease Iwaizumi, trying to get more reactions from him.

“Nothing! You sound cute, that’s all,” he said as he focused on the road.

“Oh, really~?” You move closer to Iwaizumi and whisper something in his ear, making him blush instantly.

There it is.

That icky feeling I hate.

Why did it come now? I was with Y/N and Iwaizumi - the people I care about the most.

Go away.

Get out.

I don’t need you.

“Well, I’ll just chaperone Oikawa then, Hajime. Have fun all by yourself in a huge city you don’t know well,” you say, teasing him even more.

Hajime.

They said Hajime - not Iwaizumi.

“Geez, get a room, you two.”

“Sad I’m taking your husband away, Tooru?”

“The fuck, Y/N!” Both Iwa-chan and I scream.

You laugh as you lean back into the backseat.

“What? You both are an old couple,” you begin, “Oikawa is the flamboyant one and Iwaizumi is the man that’s only gay for Oikawa and actually thinks before doing something.”

“Did everyone think I’m gay for Oikawa?” Iwa says under his breath.

“Yeap,” you reply, “Many girls were sad, to be honest. I kept on telling them you’re straight, but they didn’t listen,” you shrug.

“And me?” I ask.

“You were labelled as the hot pansexual, lucky you,” you reply with an eye roll.

“Why did no one tell me…” Iwaizumi said to himself, worried.

“Honey~,” I began teasing the ‘pinecone’.

“Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa.”

“ ‘Shut the fuck up, Shittykawa’ - why don’t you give an actual nice nickname for the brunette over here,” you ask him, playing with the stressed driver.

“No.”

“Do it or I’m calling you pinecone for the rest of your life.”

“No.”

“Do it or I’ll tell them-” I say before getting cut off by Iwaizumi himself.

“Prettykawa.”

“Holy shit, Y/N,” I wiped my fake tears, “He called me pretty! Darling~”

“Oh my god, Oikawa,” you say, laughing as I hug Iwaizumi’s arm.

Our squiggles were intertwined and in a good way - that’s all that mattered.

.

.

.

“Oikawa,” Iwaizumi looked at me with a serious face, “I think I am going to confess to them tonight.”

Wait, you are?

Please don’t.

Don’t take them away from me.

I need them.

Iwaizumi, please don’t.

“Finally! It’s about time you made your move - I think they like you too, so you have a shot.”

It’s true - I see how they stare at you.

Their eyes are filled with admiration, lips fixed in a soft smile, their hands grazing your cheek - they love you as much as you love them, Iwaizumi.

“Thanks for supporting me, Tooru. It really means a lot to me,” he says as he hugged me, “Thanks for being my best friend.”

I haven’t been a good friend, Iwa.

I fell for the same person.

I want to steal them from you so badly, but I can’t bring myself to hate you.

I want to hate you so bad, but I can’t.

This feeling… I hate it.

“Thanks for being mine, too.” I smiled, but the smile never reached my eyes.

You’re taking them away from me, Iwaizumi.

You could’ve gotten anyone else, but you took them away from me.

I don’t want to feel this - this hatred growing within, yet here I am, cursing you in my head the minute I see you.

“Go! Why are you wasting time?” I say, pushing you towards the door.

I saw the smile you gave me as you ran to her room.

You are such an amazing person, Iwa-chan.

You can care for someone who deeply hates you.

.

.

.

I saw how they were basically draped around you for the next few days. They looked so happy just to be beside you.

Each day, their eyes spoke stories of love for you, Iwa. They used to come over to my place and gush about you every day, like a ritual.

You’re so fucking lucky, Iwaizumi. This isn’t fair.

They’d go on and on about your physique, your personality and the small things you’d do.

Congratulations, they finally paid attention to the things you did for them. I’m happy for you, Iwa.

I am happy for the two of you, truly.

They are truly happy.

I could’ve never done that - never.

I just wish I wasn’t walking towards the gym that day.

I saw your first kiss under that tree - the tree the three of us used to spend under while waiting for practice to start.

I saw how their hands gripped on the back of your head, pressing themselves on you. I saw how you gripped their hips oh so tightly as you showed them your passion towards them. I saw how breathless they looked the minute your lips left theirs. I saw how they grazed your chin whilst staring into your eyes in admiration.

I pictured how it would’ve been if I was in your position.

I would’ve held them tighter, pressed my forehead against theirs so that our noses would brush against each other. They’d play with the ends of my hair, going on and on about how soft each lock was like they usually do. They’d eye my lips as I stared at their soft and supple lips. I’d press the tip of my thumb on their bottom lip, enjoying the view of their parted lips made just for me and me alone. Slowly, I would kiss their cheeks, hoping for some cute reaction from them. From their cheeks, I would drag my lips to their chin, placing soft kisses here and there.

I would then press my lips against theirs, enjoying the soft noises escaping their lips.

But I never will - you’re theirs as they’re yours.

Of all places, why did you have to choose there?

I can’t come back here without thinking about that kiss now.

That icky feeling…

It’s back.

Go away.

Get out of me.

I am happy.

“Damn, Iwaizumi,” Matsun said as he approached the gym, “Y/N’s really in love with them, huh?”

“Shut it, Matsun,” Maki said, looking at me.

Of course, he’d notice.

I am in love with his friend's girlfriend, after all.

“What? He’s telling the truth; they’re so in love with each other they can’t even see that three people saw their first kiss!” I shouted, earning a growl from the black-haired male hugging Y/N.

“Out of all the times, Shittykawa…”

“You better run, he looks feral!” You shouted, laughing.

“You sure he wasn’t feral ever since he initiated that kiss? I saw that hand wandering, Iwaizumi~!” Matsukawa shouted as he ran to the gym.

“Iwaizumi isn’t innocent anymore. You aren’t part of the gang anymore man, stay back,” Hanamaki said, wiping a fake tear whilst gripping his sides, “You’ve grown up too quick, Iwa-senpai.”

“You okay, ‘kawa?” Maki said as he turned to me, rubbing my back.

“I am fine, Maki. Go ahead - go to the gym, I’ll come in a minute,” I gave him a nod as I walked to the toilet.

That day was the first day I cried over someone in school, and hopefully the last.

.

.

.

.

.

.

“Tooru… Tohru…” You mumbled.

“Yes, my name is similar to the main character’s. What about it?” I sigh.

“We should get you a cat. Who knows, you might kiss it and it’ll become a girl?” Iwa chirped.

“That’s a cat version of Princess and the Frog,” I say, annoyed.

“Stupid,” you hit Iwa’s thigh, “Get with the program.”

Iwa groaned as he rubbed his leg, “That was really painful, dumbass.”

“Tohru, he called me dumbass,” you whined.

“I am not Tohru - it’s Tooru.”

“Brown hair, all of the people around them falling in love with them, high pitched voice… that’s you,” Iwa joked.

“Major flaw in your theory - I am not a girl.”

“Alternate universe Tohru then,” you said, enjoying the banter.

“Tohru plays with animals, I play with a volleyball team.”

“How do you know she isn’t in a volleyball team? It was never specified she isn’t part of a volleyball team.”

“It’s never specified that she is part of a volleyball team,” I say, clearly annoyed by this conversation.

“I’m getting you a cat - a ginger one,” Iwa said, grabbing his phone from the side table.

“Don’t get me a cat!”

“Get him a cat, love. He doesn’t know it yet, but he’ll love it,” you said, leaning against Iwaizumi’s chest to see his phone screen.

“Holy shit,” you said, holding back a laugh, “He’s actually looking-”

“Iwaizumi Hajime!” I scream, making both Iwaizumi and you laugh loudly.

“I was looking at a cat meme, stupid.”

I sign out of frustration and look back at the TV screen, avoiding the mischievous couple.

I eyed the way they were sitting on the couch.

You were seated in between Iwaizumi’s legs, their back pressed against his front. Their hands played with Iwaizumi’s left hand, fiddling with his fingers as they stared at the screen in front of them. Iwaizumi wasn’t looking at the screen though - he was staring at his lover who was fully immersed in the scene unfolding in front of them. His right hand grazed their right hand, enjoying the feeling of them comfortable in his arms.

You looked happy, and that’s all that mattered.

The last episode soon finished and you looked to the ceiling, stretching your neck.

“So sad it’s over,” you said, smiling.

“At least it had a good ending. I don’t think I need to remind you how heartbroken you were when we watching Banana Fish’s-”

“Don’t remind me - I’ll cry here and now.”

You got off the couch and walked towards the kitchen to get a drink.

“So,” you plopped on the couch, leaning against Iwa, “What’s the final plan, Mr Tohru?”

“What do you mean?”

“Your life after high school, of course! What’s the plan? I know Hajime is planning to be a trainer, but you never told me what your plan is.”

Hajime.

Hajime.

Hajime.

Again with the Hajime.

Just use Iwaizumi, for fuck’s sake.

“...Tooru?”

I snap out of my thoughts. “Oh.”

“You’ve been out of it recently. You’re okay, right?” You say as you walk to sit beside me.

I chuckle, looking at your concerned face.

“I’m good - just stressed about life, that’s all. I am not so sure as to what’s the next step, but it’s going pro.”

You hug me from the side, placing your head on my shoulder.

“Hey, what’s wrong with you, now? Aren’t you scared that you might make Hajime jealous?” I tease.

“I don’t know - I just feel I need to do this, like a feeling that you might do something rash.”

I felt tears wet the side of my shirt.

My eyes darted to the sight of you, sobbing, gripping on my shirt.

“Don’t you dare forget me, okay?” You say through sniffles, “I sure as hell won’t forget you.”

I cup your face in my hands, wiping off the trailing tears.

“I won’t.”

You made a huge loop on my squiggle, Y/N - I don’t I can ever forget you.

.

.

.

.

.

.

TO: Y/N (2:30 a.m.)

It’s been so many years, Y/N.

You’ve blossomed into the amazing person I knew you’d be.

I saw Iwa-chan recently - after all, he’s training the Japan team.

I actually made it into a team - the Argentinian Volleyball team.

I kept on doubting myself, but you kept on reminding me of how good of a setter I was back in high school.

I know you’re busy being the big person in your industry - congrats on all the awards again, I keep forgetting to contact you.

If you’re down, maybe we can call? I miss your voice.

I sent the message, hoping you’d reply as fast as you used to when we were in high school.

I looked from the hotel window, trying to imagine how the scenery is back home in Miyagi.

The roaring fields, the birds flying in the sky as we walked down that small pathway, that traffic light you’d draw on while waiting for the cars to pass - I remembered it all.

I remembered it all just because you were part of it.

Funny, isn’t it? After so many years, I still think of you.

Not as my friend’s lover, but mine.

I shouldn’t have invited Iwaizumi to that trip.

I should’ve just kept you all to myself - protect you from the world.

I should’ve just kept Iwaizumi out of your life - not let him in at any point.

I should’ve just told him how I feel about you.

I tried so hard to get over you, Y/N.

I met so many other people, hoping they could fill up the hole you left when you left me for him. I had so many sour relationships just because I was comparing them to the rhetorical you that I dated. If the world had given me a second chance, I would be standing beside you - I would work to provide for you the best the world had to offer.

But in the end, your squiggle was meant to grow without mine. I had to accept it and move on, as much as it hurts.

Covid 19: Angst train :)

All reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!!!

[writings-of-a-hufflepuff]

School House Blues

Fandom: The Mandalorian

Collection/Series: Western AU- Putting Down Roots

Pairing: Din Djarin x Female Identifying Reader

Writer: @writings-of-a-hufflepuff​ aka @hufflepuffing-all-day-long​

Warnings: N/A

Request from Anon:  Hey so I saw your post that said requests for certain characters were open and I was wondering if I could ask for a din djarin x plus size reader with this prompt please? : (19th c) I’m the town’s school teacher and you’re the gruff wanderer/traveller/cowboy/outlaw/etc. That’s come to town. You help me fix the school house and wrangle the little demons I teach. I was thinking the kid could be one of her students! Thank you so much in advance ♥️♥️

Summary: When the bounty hunter strolls into your little mining town you don’t think much of it, but with a little boy in his wake and your school house in disrepair, he becomes more than just a passing visit, but a welcome constant.

Notes: You know me too well, Western AU/historic AU Din is so good as a concept and ughhhhhh this was so wonderful to have requested and I hope desperately that it’s good!

Reader isn’t really specified as plus size just because it didn’t really come up in the story? Although she is described as being quite soft and sweet in appearance. 

Archiveofourown

He comes into town with one hand clenched around his horse’s reins, guiding the bay and white creature with a bounty hogtied swearing and cursing over its rump, and the other hand holding a little boy of no older than six at his hip. It’s quite the sight, one that momentarily distracts you from your grief at the fact you’re teaching your children out of a saloon now since your schoolhouse was burnt to the ground. 

He’s imposing or he would be if the little boy wasn’t smiling up at him with big brown eyes. It’s hard to be imposing when you’re clearly the world of a small child and it makes you smile from the porch of the saloon. You’d been organising the boxes of donations the townsfolk had put together, since all your books, slates, chalk, paper, pencils, and the like had burnt in the fire, when he strolls past. He glances over at you and tips his head, hat dipping over his chestnut eyes and it flusters you for a second when you finally see his face. 

He’s handsome, incredibly so, too handsome to be in your small mining town you think. Deep brown eyes, a prominent nose and plump lips set in a perpetual pout. His jaw is sharp and his beard and moustache are trimmed neatly, despite the bruising on his face and the layer of dirt from the road he’s truly beautiful, a thought that flusters you further. The small boy sat comfortably at his hip and playing with the fabric of his suspenders is adorable, soft round cheeks and large brown eyes, but he doesn’t look much like the man and you’re curious what the story is there. 

The boy is old enough to be in school with you, to sit and learn his letters and to read while the older kids move on to learning about science, history, mathematics and poetry. There are a couple of children his age in your class, Timmy and Mary-Beth, both just getting the hang of gripping a pencil correctly. You wonder if he won’t be joining your class soon or if he and his guardian will be out of town before you can even consider preparing for a new student. 

You watch the man hitch the horse outside the Sheriff’s office, the one that’s not got a sheriff at the moment. You hope he’s not looking for quick pay, the lawman that resided in the Sheriff’s office at the moment was just there until they could find a new sheriff. He’d have to telegram out to get the bounty money. Your last sheriff had up and left after being shot at by a couple of drunk miners, he’d decided that was enough and quite the same day. The town had been a little more unruly since and it was beginning to make you and some of the other townsfolk uneasy without someone to keep the peace. The temporary lawman had been lazy and uninvolved thus far. It was after the sheriff quit that your schoolhouse burnt down and you weren’t sure it was coincidence. 

You watch the man place the boy on his feet and say something quietly to him before brushing his hair fondly. He grabs the bounty off of the horse, and slings the man over his shoulder. It’s impressive that he doesn’t struggle up the steps to the office even with a fully grown man thrown over his shoulder, the little boy follows after him as he goes inside. 

You return to your organisation. There aren’t that many books, not like you used to have. But, while you wait for some of your teaching associates across the country to send you items, they will do. There’s enough paper and some slates for all your students to practice their writing and get their work written down which is a relief and even a globe that the general store owner, Mr Hewitt, had found in a back cupboard for you to have. 

You’re trying to lift one of the boxes of books when he comes back out again, the little boy still trailing behind him, but this time something shiny is pinned to the man’s blue shirt. You don’t think too much about it as you struggle to lift the box, your heavy skirts not helping you move much, hindering your progress and causing you to trip each step forward you take. 

You hear his boots on the wooden stairs before you see him, he towers over you, as he takes his hat off, more polite than most men in town. You get a better look at the shiny thing pinned to his shirt and realise it’s a sheriff’s badge. The same one the old sheriff used to wear, you look from it to him and then down when you hear a little giggle. The little boy is still following after him, a sweet smile turned on you this time as he leans around the man’s legs to watch you.

“Miss, I can take that.” He gestures to the box in your hand, it’s not a question, and it’s straight and to the point. But, you’re grateful for the offer and hand it off to him without complaint. He’s stronger than you, that’s clear to see, his arms thick from years of hard work.

“Thank you…” You wait for him to tell you his name, trailing off as you lead him into the saloon that has been set out for the school day. There is a black board at the front, tables and chairs littered around the room, the liquor shelves have been emptied for books to replace them. 

The fact that Mr Karga had offered the saloon for the school was a miracle and while many in town grumbled about their favourite place of vice no longer admitting them during the day time, most were supportive of the decision to help the kids continue their school. Nevarro wasn’t a large town and mining was its main source of income, but the children deserved a chance to do more than just become miners and the school helped them do that. You helped them get into colleges on scholarships, to find jobs as clerks and apprentices in other parts of the country. 

“Din Djarin.” It’s a nice name, rolls of his tongue like honey. He doesn’t smile, not really, not properly, but there’s a little crinkle at the corners of his eyes that soften his face and make him seem warmer somehow. 

“And this little one?” You smile at the little boy as he begins to bravely step out from behind his guardian to greet you with a smile. He is a quiet boy, not the usual talkative sort you find with a six year old, but who knows what he’s been through even at this young age. 

“Grogu, he’s my…” He furrows his brow, clearly thinking hard on the right word. That alone tells you he is not his son by blood, a small fact that makes him even more interesting. Not many bounty hunters would take in a small child. “Son.” he finally says. Deciding it is the best term. Grogu isn’t his by blood, Din knows this, but the little boy he’d found all alone surrounded by death, was slowly becoming like a son to him. Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Family is more than blood. 

“Will he be joining my class? I run the school, currently we’re based here...in the saloon. Not my ideal place to teach but needs must.” You gesture around you to the makeshift classroom. You don’t like that the place still stinks of liquor or that at night it goes back to being a saloon where people drink, gamble, and fight. But, you don’t have a better place right now and the children need somewhere to learn. You can teach in any building, even if you dislike this one. 

You fit the image of a school teacher he thinks. You look like a respectable young woman, dressed appropriately, all neat and proper. Your hair pulled up and pinned away like it’s supposed to be. Everything about you is proper. Part of him wants to see you become ruffled, stop being so demure. It’s a thought that makes him frown at himself, the thoughts inappropriate especially towards a lady like yourself.

“Yes. We’ll be staying for awhile. What happened to the school house, Miss…?” He took on the job as sheriff the moment the lawman offered it, the pay was good, gave him his own accommodation and it meant he could settle down for a bit, give the kid an actual childhood. Bounty hunting was something he was good at but it wasn’t exactly safe to do with a six year old in tow. At least this job used his skills catching lawbreakers and put them to use in a place the kid could grow up. It helps that the teacher of the town is pretty too, he thinks. 

You give him your name before answering his question, “Well, after the last sheriff quit, the schoolhouse burnt down and along with all the things we had in it. Luckily it was at night and none of us were in the building. Burnt right down to the ground, nothing left…” You say it with a heavy sigh, thinking of that sweet little schoolhouse. The white painted wood, the familiar rows of desks with names carved in them, your favourite collection of university level texts at the back for the older and more advanced kids to explore. You had been teaching in that schoolhouse for the last five years and in a way it had become a second home for you, if you weren’t at your own little home, then you were in the schoolhouse marking work or planning lessons for the coming days. 

“Anyone know what caused it?” 

“No. We didn’t exactly have the mind to investigate and if it wasn’t an accident it was probably just some drunk who didn’t know any better. But, we make do and Grogu,” You crouch down next to the small child, moving your skirts to do so comfortably, “will fit right in, I think, don’t you?” The little boy smiles at you and giggles, before hiding behind his father’s leg again. 

“Have any plans been made to rebuild the schoolhouse?” Sheriff Djarin it seems is very straight and to the point, his tone isn’t unkind or aggressive, but his words are clipped, short, brusque as if he’s not quite used to being more flowery or saying much. You supposed a bounty hunter didn’t typically need to say much, but you hope he’ll become more comfortable with talking, at least to you, as time goes on. 

“No...i’ve been trying to put some pressure on the mayor to get it done but...he just doesn’t seem to care all that much now there’s a temporary solution.” You say as you begin unpacking the box that he brought inside, exercise books are brought out and sorted into piles, ready for the children to write their names on the covers and start afresh. 

He frowns, brow furrowing deep, lips turned down at the thought of the schoolhouse just never being rebuilt. It’s clear to him that saloon isn’t the place for a school and it’s even clearer that you are distressed with your new working arrangement, that you miss having a building that is entirely your own and entirely dedicated to teaching young minds. 

“I’ll sort something out. Is class starting soon?”

“Yes, not...not long now.” You double check the clock realising the kids will begin arriving in less than an hour and you feel wholly unprepared for the first day of school since the schoolhouse burnt down. 

You watch him crouch in front of Grogu, hand ruffling his hair fondly, “You’re going to stay here today, get some learnin’ in ya. I’ve got things to do, but I'll be back later, promise.” You’re surprised and warmed when he puts out his pinky finger for the kid to grab, a little promise that seems to you like something more. You wonder if the boy was scared of being left again, if this was Din’s way of reassuring his new son that he wasn’t going to leave him. The little boy wraps his whole hand around Din’s pinkie not quite understanding how the promises work yet.

“Have a good day of teaching, Miss Y/N.” He nods his head at you, grabbing his hat as he walks out the saloon with a purpose. The hat is placed on his head the moment he’s out of the doors and it’s that little element of politeness that surprises you. He carries himself like a gentleman but looks like any other rough and tumble man wandering the west. But it’s his treatment of Grogu that confirms the sort of man that he is. 

I’ll sort something out. You smiled to yourself realising that perhaps the new sheriff would be the best thing to happen to this town in a while. Someone who actually got things done for once. 

“Do you want to find your seat? Maybe do some drawing before class starts, Grogu?” You ask the little boy smiling at him as he nervously shifts from foot to foot, looking back out the doors as if hoping his father would walk back in. It’s clear he hasn’t had to do this before, be separated from him and left with a stranger, but you put on your softest smile and gentlest voice and wait patiently for him to nod his head before offering him your hand. 

He takes your hand and you help him get settled into his seat, you decide to put him near the front so you can help him easily and get him settled near you. He only knows you after all, and you think being around all the kids and far away from familiarity might be too much. You give him some paper, scrap bits that you don’t need anymore and a pencil leaving him to draw while you get ready for class.

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

The school day goes...well, it’s hectic and your hair is frizzy and falling out of the updo you styled it in that morning by the end. The children are unsettled in this new environment, the older kids, those nearing adulthood frustrated by the younger kids who can’t seem to focus or be quiet. Your brain feels too large for your skull and you sigh out a goodbye to your students as they leave out the saloon doors, one or two shoving through the swinging shutters much faster than needed. 

Grogu is the quietest of your students, sweet and attentive, he doesn’t speak a word, but follows your instructions well. He is behind on his writing letters and reading, that much you know from working with him, but he’s a quick learner and applies himself with a determination you rarely see. He doesn’t always play well with others. At lunch time you’d noticed him stealing food from the other children. It continued despite giving him your own lunch knowing his father hadn’t had time to prepare him something after coming straight into town and getting to work. He doesn’t share well either, but seemed to understand when you sat him down and talked to him about it. You suppose that being away from other children and only travelling with your father figure who would share his food with you without a thought, it must be confusing. The manners that he now has to observe, the rules of society that he’s never had to worry about until now. He looks suitably admonished despite the gentle way you chose to talk about it with him, that alone makes you think he’ll likely stop stealing the children’s cookies and be more willing to share. 

“David, careful!” You call out when one of your older students nearly gets trampled underneath the sheriff’s horses’ hooves as he runs across the thoroughfare without looking. 

“Sorry, miss!” David calls back over his shoulder, still storming ahead your warning lost on him. 

You sigh heavily and rub at your temples, stress enveloping you. A tug, swift and sharp on your skirt has you looking down. Grogu has a hand fisted in the fabric, pulling to get your attention. Once he has it, his arms open, hands up towards you, opening and closing, a universal gesture to be lifted. 

It surprises you, he is...quiet and reserved. You expected time to be needed before he was comfortable with you in any respect, especially after having to tell the boy off. Instead, he lets you lift him to your hip, hands reaching for strands of your hair and twisting them, surprisingly gently between his chubby little fingers. 

You watch your students run in different directions through town, their books and lunch pails in tow. Some stop on the open green, playing games together before their parents demand them back home for dinner. The warm little body in your arms is a soothing presence and the boy almost looks like he wants to say something, but just makes a soft cooing sound instead.

“Not much of a talker are you, little one?” He almost shrugs his little shoulders before looking up at the sound of heavy footsteps and clinking spurs. The sheriff leads his horse up to you, eyes following David with a shake of his head. Clearly, just as bemused as you at his lack of common sense.

Grogu smiles and giggles happily at the sight of his father, arms reaching out for him. You pass him over to Din, trying to ignore how close you get to the man to do it. He radiates warmth and smells woodsy mixed with some sort of soap he must use. This close you can see little birthmarks dotted across his neck. 

You step back once the boy is settled in his arms and smile, soft but tired. “Sheriff, how was your first day on the job?” 

He gives you a humoured smirk, one you’re not expecting, it takes you aback slightly. He looks...charming, approachable. Little dimples at his cheeks that soften his features in a way that makes you want to step closer. With a huff, not quite a laugh, he says, “Eventful.”

“That makes two of us, sheriff.” He notices the tired creases beneath your eyes, the once unrumpled appearance now dishevelled, hair coming out of its updo and blouse and skirt wrinkled and creased. You look like you’d had a rough day and he hopes Grogu wasn’t part of the cause. He still hadn’t figured out how to discipline the kid, he always turned those big brown eyes on him and he just couldn’t tell him no. 

“Din. Call me Din.” 

“Then you should call me Y/N.” There’s a moment of silence. You stare at him, at the way his hat casts shadows over his face, at the gentle hold he has on Grogu, the open top buttons of his work shirt and the dig of suspenders into his shoulders. He stares back at you. The gentle softness of your cheek, the marks that make your skin your skin and not someone else's. 

“We’re going to start building the schoolhouse as soon as the wood shipment gets here, I sent a telegram off today to get some good lumber in.” It surprises you in the most delightful way. When you said the mayor had been dragging his heels you meant it, but you hadn’t expected this new face to come in and make a start on what the mayor had been reluctant to do. 

“We’re?”

“I’ve convinced some of the men around town to pitch in and I know a thing or two about building.” In truth he’d intimidated more than persuaded. Most of the men were lazy, and had more concern for their own vices than for helping out. But, a mixture of convincing them they’d get their saloon back and reminding them that he was now the town’s sheriff seemed to get a few of the stronger and more skilled townsfolk to agree to help. 

“You’re the sheriff. You shouldn’t be building the schoolhouse, Din. You’ve got more important things to do.” You feel bad that he’s doing this, being quite so involved, when he’s starting a new job, one that takes up most of his time. Being a sheriff is a full time job, almost 24 hours a day 7 days a week. He has people to keep in line, criminals to catch, laws to enforce, and building a schoolhouse wasn’t on his list of priorities. It’s sweet and makes your heart ache oddly, but you feel guilty for adding another thing to his plate. 

“This is important, Miss...Y/N. The kid can’t learn in a saloon forever and you can’t work here forever neither.” He can see how desperately you want your schoolhouse back and something in him wants to provide that for you, to care for you. He tells himself it’s also for the kid, that his son deserves a proper schoolhouse to learn in. That all foundlings, all little children deserved a place to learn, like he had growing up in the covert.

“At least...at least let me and the children bring food and water down once you get started. I...you’ve not even been here a whole day and you’re already doing more than anyone else ever has...Thank you, Din.”

“It’s my pleasure, meg ba'jurir” You do not understand what he calls you, but you recognise that cadence, the rhythm of the language. Can almost see the symbolic nature of the alphabet. It surprises you that he knows what you’re sure is Mando’a, having only heard one other person in your life ever speak it. Mandalorian family groups were uncommon, but where they were they seemed to keep people in order, to value community. It made sense that he would take on the job of sheriff, adopt a child not of his own blood, if that were the case. 

You bite your tongue and don’t ask, you don’t know him and it is too personal to ask about his upbringing, culture or heritage. Perhaps, after you know him better you can ask, but you can almost hear your headmistress at school reminding you about manners and decorum even in a little mining town. 

“He didn’t...he didn’t cause any trouble today did he? He’s not used to being around others or...we’ve been on the road for a long time now.” He looks down at the little boy sitting at his hip, who’s playing with the metal star on his shirt. He knew that Grogu could be difficult, sweet, adorable, hard to say no to, but undisciplined and not used to the rules that people usually abided by. 

“I...I did have to have a word with him today…” You can already tell Din’s disappointed. He clearly loves the boy, but part of loving a child is wanting better for them and getting in trouble isn’t part of that. 

Din sighs heavily before catching the boy’s eye, “Ad’ika…”The boy clearly knows what’s going on and hides his face in his father’s shirt, suitably embarrassed about his behaviour. You think that’s enough to probably deter him from stealing from other kids in the future. You also think you might bake him some treats and use them as an incentive to work hard. You suspect bribery would work well with Grogu. 

“He paid attention beautifully and he’s already doing so well with learning his letters, but he’s...he’s quite…” You try to think of the best way to say that the boy just can’t resist taking other children’s food. 

“You don’t have to spare my feelings, Y/N. You can tell me.” You look Din in the eyes, deep brown meeting your own and sigh out before speaking.

“He likes to steal the other children’s food. I gave him my lunch and he still tried to steal Charlie’s cookies and Mary Beth’s macarons. I know he’s probably used to food being a thing he can just have since you’ve been travelling as a family unit…”

“Osik... I forgot to give him lunch. I am a terrible father…” Din looks at his feet, free hand rubbing over the scruff on his jaw. You feel the instant need to reassure him. 

“You’re not a terrible father. You just came into town this morning, immediately took on a job, and instantly went to work. You’re not a terrible father.” You hesitate, but reach forward anyway, a hand on his arm giving a quick reassuring squeeze. 

“Vor entye, Y/N. Thank you. Have you eaten?” 

“Oh…” You hadn’t really thought about it, that you’d given your food to Grogu to stop him going hungry and that you’d spent all day teaching with little more than the porridge you’d made yourself that morning to keep you going.

“Don’t even think about lying to the sheriff.” You did in fact consider lying to him, but the look he gave you reminded you of an overbearing mother hen who wouldn’t let you get away with it. Combined with the fact he was indeed the new sheriff, you felt it best to stick to the truth for now. 

“No...I haven’t.” You admit, feeling suitably admonished by him and a little guilty for even considering lying about. 

Din adjusts Grogu on his hip and nods his head behind him towards the street, “Come, I’ll buy you dinner at the café.”

“You don’t have to, Din. I can make dinner at home.” You think back to the soup you were going to make that night, and even though you haven’t the energy in truth to make dinner, you can’t ask him to buy you it. It is too much and unnecessary. Any good teacher would have made sure their students were fed. 

“You kept my ad fed in place of yourself. I’m buying you dinner.” His voice left no room for argument and so you found yourself following after him across the street towards Reeva’s Café. 

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

Din’s presence in town becomes apparent very quickly. He does not allow the men to wander drunk through the streets, start fights, or harass women. He does not suffer law breakers or those who cause the peace to break. He is swift, effective, and there isn’t a member of town who doesn’t respect his authority even if some don’t particularly like having to listen to him. 

For you it is a refreshing change. You don’t worry about the children wandering around town in the evenings or about walking out of your home at night. You don’t worry about your meager belongings being stolen or a fight breaking out in the saloon on an evening and ruining the few bits you have for the school. 

He is quiet and polite, not much of a talker, but everything he does shows a man of honour and good morals. He is sweet with the children as well. 

It had become common place for him, while waiting for the lumber to begin the schoolhouse, to come into the saloon while you were teaching. He said it was because the day time left little for him to do as sheriff, but you think he just enjoys helping with the children. They make him smile. A real smile. 

Sometimes he just sits with his son on his lap and helps him with his letters, other times he wanders between tables helping those who need it or using his presence to quiet the children after an exciting lunch break. Reminding them to respect you, their teacher, and listen.

Your favourite, and the childrens’ favourite times were when he’d sit down and tell them stories of his travels. For a man who didn’t speak much, Din Djarin was a natural born storyteller. 

That’s how you found yourself taking a step back, sitting on one of the saloon bar stools off to the side as Din took your place at the front of the class. He had an ability with the little ones that amazed you, none were ever scared of him despite his height, posturing or the guns holstered at his side and slung over his back. He always managed to make them smile and laugh, always got their curiosity going and inspired them equally. He made it a point whenever he talked to your class to share stories of both men and women he’d met who’d done amazing things, you could tell he was trying to get the girls in your class to see they could be more than housewives or washerwomen and you appreciated it. 

“So there I am standing toe to toe with the biggest grizzly you’ve ever seen…” He gestures with his hands, standing at the front, arms out front to show just how large this grizzly bear was. His voice took on a different, more dramatic quality then normal. Grogu clapped his hands from his seat on your lap, the little boy having grown increasingly comfortable around you.

“Now this grizzly has to be 8ft standin’, and he’s the angriest bear you’ve ever seen and i’m sure that’s the end of me. I’m about to become a grizzly bear’s dinner, Sheriff Djarin stew!” You laugh along with the kids at the prospect of Din becoming stew for a grizzly bear, you’re never sure how much is fiction or truth in his stories, although part of you wouldn’t be surprised if they were all completely true. He was...he always seemed larger than life despite being so quiet. Like some sort of figure out of a western story.

“When out of nowhere, charging between me and this mean grizzly, comes the largest bull moose I've ever seen…” 

“What’d you do?” Mary Beth pipes up, big blue eyes open wide. 

“Well, I got the he-” He stops himself looking at you, you raise an eyebrow reminding him that cussing around the children would not do well for him, “-out of there as quickly as I could! One thing you should never do is stay around to fight a grizzly, never ends well to go toe to toe with one. That moose was being kind and giving me a chance to get away.” It amuses you that he always manages to twist a moral into the story. This time about kindness and helping those weaker than yourself, along with a healthy dose of not getting into situations with angry grizzly bears of course. 

“Well, I think it’s time I let Miss Y/N, get on with her mathematics lesson.” Groans and grumbling rises up from your students as you place Grogu in his seat and begin making your way to the front. You watch Din frown at them, hands on his belt, leaning into one hip more than the other. He is the perfect picture of a disappointed father. Lips twisting downwards, pulling on his moustache. 

“Hey, now! Miss Y/N always makes your lessons fun so don’t you start giving her trouble or else i’ll have to stop coming in for story time.” It’s a threat that promptly has them settling quietly in their chairs and getting their books and pencils out.

You rest a gentle hand on his arm when you reach him, quietly telling him thank you. It’s heavy with meaning. Thank you for being there for the children. Thank you for providing them with stories. Thank you for always settling them and reminding them to respect me. Thank you for thinking about the schoolhouse. Thank you for settling the town and keeping the peace. 

He just nods at you with the smallest hint of a smile, enough to make you feel the tiniest bit flustered as you watch him walk to the chair where he’d left his hat, holsters, and lasso. 

“Say goodbye to the sheriff, children.” You tell them as all of you watch him make his way to the doors. He stops before them and tips his hat at you all with a smile, but the moment he’s out the doors it drops and in his place is the hard sheriff who won’t stand for trouble. 

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

Once the lumber comes in and the plans have been drawn up and approved by yourself, at Din’s insistence, the work begins. The schoolhouse design had been run past you because Din didn’t want to miss anything that was needed or that would help you teach. He had told you not to worry about size, scale or cost, that the community was pitching in and that the mayor had found a fund tucked away somewhere for the school. The fund miraculously appeared after Din had a long meaningful chat with him.

He wouldn’t tell you that he’d made threats against the mayor about digging up some of his dirty laundry, but he had. The mayor had a lot of skeletons in his closet and also a nice stack of credits he was sitting on in his own personal mayoral vault. The fact that the mayor had been so reluctant to rebuild the schoolhouse when he easily could have almost made Din see red, but he didn’t think it would look good if he beat the man to the curb as sheriff. He was supposed to be upstanding and law abiding, if he wasn’t why would any of the townsfolk be? 

A few days into the project you decided it was time you made good on your promise to come to the site during lunch time with the children to bring water and some food. You and the children collect pails of water and the baked goods you’d made the night before, trudging through the streets. You held Grogu on one hip, the small child the slowest of his classmates, and carried a heavy pail of water in the other, so heavy your shoulder slumped down on that side to accommodate the weight. 

The children were happy to help, after all, many of their fathers and older brothers were working on the school site and it was a chance in the school day to see people they cared about. You were also sure they wanted to ask the sheriff a multitude of questions and beg for a story, but you’d reminded them that they weren’t there to get in the way or interrupt the work, just to offer food and water.

You’d reluctantly admitted to Reeva that you found the sheriff attractive, after the older woman badgered you day in and day out about the time you spent with him. You could admit he was handsome. His eyes were deep brown and spoke more words then he often did. He had both a look that could intimidate and also soften into something warm and safe. The beard and moustache he sported made him look ruggedly handsome and his shoulders were broad and wide. He looked like he’d stepped out of a story book or from an illustrated newspaper short story. Rugged but clean, dangerous but kind. 

You had to admit though that this was your favourite look on him. As you came upon the building site he was busy sawing a plank of pine in two. His shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow exposing his strong forearms and thick wrists. His suspenders had been flung off his shoulders, resting at sides no longer covering the strong back that was tensed as he worked. The top few buttons of his shirt had come undone, almost indecently so to show a pronounced collar bone, strong neck, and dark chest hair and the brown hair on his head had begun to curl from the sweat he was working up. It shouldn’t have been attractive. He should have looked like any other man working up a sweat, you shouldn’t have wanted to wipe his brow and brush your fingers through the curls of his hair. But you did. 

Taking a deep breath to compose yourself you look down at the little boy at your hip, “Should we go say hello to your father?” 

“Papa!” He clapped his hands at you in confirmation. You’d slowly learnt that papa was one of the only words he said, you weren’t sure if he chose not to speak or simply couldn’t. But, given his increasing aptitude with writing his letters, you thought it likely that he simply chose not to speak. 

The call instantly has Din’s head popping up from his work like a startled deer and you watch as his eyes roam across the children until he catches sight of his son at your hip. The smile that lights his face is so bright that it’s almost blinding, there is a longing you feel whenever you see his happiness to see Grogu. Some deep part of you that desires that sort of family bond. He loves his son so deeply, it doesn’t matter to him that their blood isn’t the same and part of you wants desperately to be part of that love and happiness. 

“Children, hand out the food and water, will you? But be careful!” You remind them as they run towards familiar faces, it is still a building site after all, and the last thing you need is a child getting hurt in any way. 

Din finishes sawing the plank before striding over to you, hand pulling a rag from his back pocket to wipe the sweat from his brow. You look...radiant. The summer sun shining over you, causing your skin to glow, your hair to shine. Your smile is as soft as your eyes and you're gentle in the way you hold his son to your hip, like he belonged there. Like the two of you belonged together. Din can admit that he enjoys your company more than he probably should, he can even admit that a part of him deeply desires you, wants you to join his family unit, become part of his aliit. You’re tender and kind to all the children you teach, your children as you often call them, and you’re incredibly kind to Grogu who you treat with more understanding than most school teachers ever would. You keep order in your classroom through kindness and mutual respect, not through fear or punishment. The maternal shine to you draws him to you in a way that, had he not been Mandalorian, he might be ashamed of. But, family is everything to him, Grogu is everything to him and if he is to put down roots here, he can’t help but consider putting down roots with you.

It’s a silly thought though, you’ve not known each other long and he isn’t well to do or gentlemanly. You’re far better educated than him, kinder than him, and it is a pipe dream that he doubts will ever come to fruition. It doesn’t help that he struggles at times to even talk to you, let alone make his feelings known. 

“Miss me, Ad’ika?” He calls to the little boy, carefully pulling him from your arms when you offer him. If you allow yourself to, you can almost imagine he’s taking your own child from you, that the two of you have formed some sort of family. But, you are just his son’s teacher and he is just the sheriff of your small town. 

The boy babbles at him, not real words, nonsense, or attempts at words that don’t translate, but you can see that improving. Can almost imagine what settling down here can do for the boy, give him a chance to learn, grow, make friends, and find some stability and safety. 

“He’s been itching to come over all day, they all have. I was struggling to get them to focus on their history lesson.” You had 15 children all desperate to get out of the saloon and visit their fathers for lunch. It had been a...very difficult lesson to say the least and you still felt a little frazzled. 

“History?” The boy tugs at his father’s hair and you watch him wince as he speaks, pulling little chubby hands from brown curls. 

“The fall of the empire and the rise of the republic. Not the most riveting subject for them I'm sure, they much prefer when I tell them about different societies rather than politics.” You want to say like Mandalore and the Mandalorians because you want to draw him in, desperate to have more of his time even when he’s already doing so much for you. You enjoy the odd hour here and there when he takes over your class and becomes the teacher, where you can just sit and listen, learn yourself. 

“Mandalorians believe that our history is our future. We learn it as soon as we can walk.”

“So it is Mando’a you’ve been speaking?” It warms you to see him open up to you like this. He is a private man, quiet, and insular. While he can yell with the best, and demand attention, can intimidate and even persuade, it’s all part of his job. The face he puts on as sheriff. He is quiet about himself, sharing little and not so often. You revel in the trust placed in you wherever he tells you a little something more about himself. 

“You noticed?” Most people don’t even know Mando’a exists, let alone recognise that the words he slips into his speech are such. He finds they slip out more around you, than with others. He’s comfortable with, he is happy to share himself, his culture with you and it...it is a startling discovery about himself. He has been insular and closed off for longer than he would like to admit. 

“I can’t speak it and I..I don’t know it well, but, I recognise the cadence. I grew up in Naboo and there was a Mandalorian there, she used to speak it when I would sit and practice my letters with her.” Atin’a Caivass was a kind woman to you even if she could be hard. She had been one of your teachers, always pushing you harder, to do better. Yet, it had never felt frustrating or like a chore, the Mandalorian had always made it a desire to impress her, but also to prove to yourself that you could. She had always been kind to you and the other children, gentle but firm, like you were one of her own. You saw similarities with how Din treated the children. He was kind and gentle, but never overlooked an opportunity to firmly correct their behaviour or mistakes. A perfect balance. Not too soft and not too harsh. 

“You never learnt?”

“She was very protective of it and I...I was always too afraid to ask.” You confess. You had always been fascinated with it, like any young child when faced with a new language, but you had always believed it something sacred, and had worried that you would offend her if you asked to learn. “Ad’ika? What does it mean?”

He can’t help but laugh at your pronunciation and sounds it out for you, “Ah-Dee-Kah, it means little one.” 

“Ah-dee-kuh?” You are even more beautiful, he thinks when you butcher his language, trying so hard to get it right that your eyebrows scrunch together and your eyes crinkle at the corners. 

“Ah-Dee-Kah” The little one squirms in his arms and he places him on the ground, only to watch him plunk himself on his bottom and play with the dirt. He had always had a fascination with dirt and rocks, more so than any of the toys he had actually brought or made him. 

“Ah-Dee-Kah”

“Perfect.” You smile blindingly at his praise and he wonders if he can forgo his job as sheriff and simply teach you Mando’a every minute of every day. “You can always ask. If you want to learn. It’s nice to hear it from another person’s lips, not just mine.”

“I would like that very much...maybe when you’re less busy? You’re rather booked up at the moment, what with being sheriff, storytime for the children, and building a schoolhouse. You’re a busy man, Din Djarin.”

“I like to keep my hands busy.” You look down at your feet before looking back up at him, unsure how to respond to what you were sure was meant as a perfectly innocent comment. Din almost swears, osik, once he realises how that sounds, lifting hand to the back of his neck to rub it. 

The silence that you fall into isn’t uncomfortable necessarily, but feels almost solid, like a physical thing and not just the quiet that comes with two people not talking for a moment. There’s a tension there that is not wholly unpleasant but hard to describe or pin down. 

Seeming to remember the pail of water you’re carrying you place it in front of him, “Water, so you can clean off or if you’re thirsty. There’s some pastries somewhere as well, to keep you all fed...Can’t have you keeling over on us or else we’d never get our schoolhouse.” 

You take a step back and cast your gaze around, making note of where each of your 15 kids are. You’re caught watching Jerome splash water on Annie, about to go and tell him off when you hear splashing much closer to you. 

You thought he couldn’t excite you more than he already had. Thought that Din Djarin couldn’t possibly tempt you more, cause your well-mannered sensibilities to crumble further. You were utterly, terribly, ridiculously wrong. 

There’s something to be said about the man pouring half a pail of water over his head to rub away the sweat and dirt from a hard day working in the summer sun. He flicks his head back, long neck outstretched as water droplets fall like mirror glass over his tanned skin. His hair sticks to his skin, kissing it in a way you realise you desperately want to and his shirt clings to broad shoulders with the familiarity of a lover. 

You spin back around away from him flustered, determined not to look as you march towards Jerome. You decide in that moment that perhaps it’s best not to bring pails of water at lunch time. You might just not survive to see the school built. 

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

For the next two months your routine features lunch time trips with the children to bring water and sometimes food to the men building the schoolhouse, and the odd afternoon story time hour when Din feels confident enough to leave the others to continue working without his guidance. Each day the schoolhouse comes together more and more and each day you fall a little bit more in...in whatever these feelings for the sheriff were. 

You also have the startling realisation that Grogu has wormed his little way into your heart in a way that none of your other students have. You have a soft spot for the little boy, especially as he becomes more vocal, begins to say more little words, including the delightful name ‘Miss Y/N’. 

Din is a temptation in himself, each time he teaches you another word or phrase in Mando’a and his lips wrap around syllables or every time he works hard to build the schoolhouse muscles pulling taut underneath the weight of wood. He tempts you in a way that no one ever has and you can’t quite explain what it is about this man that makes you desire to be in his presence, to kiss him, to hold him, to be close to him both physically and emotionally. You want to know everything about him, to understand him better than you understand yourself. 

In some ways it is a relief when the schoolhouse is finished and in other ways it feels like a loss. Part of your routine, part of the day where you always see Din was no longer needed or necessary.

When you bring the children over at lunch time, it’s to show them the finished building, the one they’ll be in come Monday morning once you have the time to move all the books and other odds and ends into it. They’re all excited as are you, to see it...it strikes you in the heart so badly that you can’t move your feet, can only stare at the building with tears in your eyes. 

It’s beautiful. Not large, but larger than the old one. Freshly painted white, with a school bell hanging out front. It strikes you that this isn’t just a schoolhouse, but it’s your schoolhouse. Din had been adamant about building it for you. 

“Children, why don’t you go inside and take a look? You’ll be here on Monday!” You wave them all off as they run ahead and up the wooden steps, throwing the door open none too gently. “Careful! We only just got it!” You call out and receive a series of sorries back. 

“Shall we go find your buir?” You look down at Grogu, who’s hand is holding the heavy fabric of your skirt. He smiles up at you and nods his head with a quick little ‘papa’ that has your heart warming. 

You hear him before you see him, “Now don’t go breaking the tables when we’ve only just put them together, girls!” Already laying down the law to 3 of your children as you enter the schoolhouse. They had seemingly been swinging on tables in a most ill-mannered fashion that has you putting on your teacher-face and raising an eyebrow at them from behind Din. They promptly stop and return their feet to the floor with an abashed look.

“Sorry, Sheriff. Sorry Miss.” They call to you both before scurrying away in hopes of avoiding punishment, leaving you, Din and Grogu alone in the main room for the building. You let it go. It isn’t an issue, they need to learn to respect things, and not damage them, but that does not have to come at the cost of punishment when a quick look and a reminder does enough. 

Din spins at them calling out to you, faster than he seems to have expected, looking decidedly dizzy for a second before the mask of sheriff falls right back into place. 

“Y/N, how do you like it?” He opens his arms wide and gestures to the main room of the schoolhouse. A large blackboard already nailed to the wall at the back, rows of tables and chairs set up so every child could see you. A desk at the front for your things. It is sweet and fits your needs infinitely better than a saloon ever would. You even note the bookcases along the walls, enough space to place many of your books for the children to have easy access for when they wish to learn something more than you could teach them. 

“It’s...it’s wonderful, Din. It’s beautiful. I...I can’t thank you enough...I...I’m a little lost for words.” You can feel the happy tears starting to pool in your eyes again, the gratitude making you a little bit emotional. “I don’t think I can ever repay you for this.”

“You...you don’t need to repay me, Mesh’la. This...you and the children deserve a school, a place to teach and learn. You don’t have to thank me or repay me for doing what the damn mayor should have done in the first place.”

You nearly don’t do it. Nearly let that fear that wells up inside you and the proper manners, the belief that you were about to be far too forward than was ladylike, stop you. But, you think back to his kindness, his gentle nature, the calm and order he’s brought to town. The son of his that you have a large soft spot for. The handsomeness of his features, the sharpness of his profile. The gentle hand he always places on your back as he helps escort you somewhere. The respect he shows you at every turn and his willingness to share his culture and upbringing with you. You think of all the things that make up the Din Djarin you know and you think of what he has come to mean to you. 

With a silent prayer and an apology to your late headmistress for being more forward than is ladylike, you push yourself forward and into him. Lips soft and chaste lifting to meet his, only briefly. You do not push for more than a second of contact, but it is enough, you hope, to get the thought and intent across. That he is someone you would like to get to know more, that he is someone you could happily be courted by, even marry one day.  

He doesn’t even have time to blink, it happens so fast. One minute you are standing a few steps away from him thanking him, the next your lips are pressed to his in the shortest sweetest kiss he’s ever had the pleasure of being on the receiving end of. It takes another second for him to realise what’s happened before he’s reaching a hand out to cup the nape of your neck and drag your lips back to his for a significantly more substantial kiss that leaves you a little breathless. 

When you pull away from each other you don’t go far. Din presses his forehead to yours, hawkish nose pressing into your cheek, a soft touch that grounds you with his presence. The hand at your neck, rubs a soothing thumb across your skin. Your own have chosen to grasp at the suspenders over his shoulders, to keep in close proximity. 

“I’d very much like to court you, Miss Y/N.”

“I think i’d like that, sheriff.” 

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

Mando’a Translations

 Meg Ba'jurir - roughest way I could get to someone who educates or a teacher with meg being who and ba’jurir being educate

Osik - Shit

Vor entye - Thank You

Ad - son

Ad’ika - Little one, term of endearment for small children

Buir - Father also Mother basically parent. 

Mesh’la - Beautiful

Aliit - Family (Clan)

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

Taglist for this fic: 

@lex-ham​

[peachyteez]

angel nurse ≫ DAY FOUR, HEHETMON

this fox hybrid was brought into the recovery facility covered in scratches, whip marks, blood, and every other injury you could imagine. due to this, yeosang has trouble trusting humans, as he was afraid they could just hurt him all over again. until he meets jiyu, his “angel nurse”.

PART OF THE HEAVEN SERIES.

✧ taglist: @defsoul15​, @jaeminpeachy​, @joongiebug, @sunsethw4​, @t-tbinnie​, @chanyeolol​, @danibookmarks​, @hello-its-ya-boi​, @murralyn​, @alienmashup​, @panini​, @moon8894​, @koasworld​, @taetae123094​, @luv3rxcha​, @treasure-hwa​, @etherealbyeol​, @hwaseongzzz​, @lovely-sanie​, @orbitiiny​, @pirate-of-the-dark-seas​, @babydolljo​, @ms-starlight​, @everrrlasting​, @bls-luv-me​, @atzgiggle​, @arohabyeol​, @rainbowmagicpixecorn​, @soverystupid​, @ayetothezee​, @kingalls00​, @sanstreasure0305​, @sparklingmallow​​, @peachseok

✧ notes: i’m missing the boys extra today and i don’t know why :(

back。| next。

“ji, we’ve been standing here for ten minutes now. are you sure you’re going in?” yeonjun whispered, not wanting to alarm the fox hybrid on the other side of the door.

“shh! give me a minute, jun!” she whisper-shouted back. 

“it’s been ten!”

“well give me another one!”

yeonjun sighed. “it’s not like you to be so nervous about visiting a patient,” he pointed out. 

“i know...it’s just...i know how he feels since i can relate to his situation to some extent,” she meekly admitted. “a lot of people left me alone for a while after i left home so i guess i did the same towards him.”

with an understanding and gentle smile, yeonjun reassuringly gave her a pat on the shoulder. “then don’t let him wallow in his own thoughts alone, otherwise it’ll be much harder for you to pull him out,” he advised before walking off and waving at her over his shoulder. “good luck, i’ll go check on taehyun.”

waving after him, she took a deep breath and looked at the door once more. “let’s go,” she mumbled to herself encouragingly before entering the code to the keypad.

the door slid open to reveal the fox hybrid on sitting on his bed. in front of him was a foldable table, some paper, and...pencils and colored pencils? is he drawing?

yeosang’s eyes widened when he spotted jiyu at the door and his ears started to twitch. unable to keep eye contact with her, he glanced away and at the wall next to her instead. the cream-colored wall looked very interesting to him at the moment.

“um...hello! i’m here for your checkup,” jiyu said with a small smile, holding up her folder with his papers in them. “is that okay?”

silence. 

while it seemed as if yeosang was uncomfortable on the outside, his mind was yelling at him to at least respond. yeosang, please, you literally spent most of last night promising and hyping yourself up to make an attempt to interact with her.

jiyu felt her smile slightly faltering at the awkward atmosphere. “o-or i can go ask seojin—”

“...it’s fine,” yeosang said, practically whispering. “y-you can do whatever you n-need.”

“are you sure?” she asked, sensing his hesitation. 

yeosang nodded before putting the pencils and colored pencils away and neatly folding the table. although he was trying his best, he still couldn’t look at her in the eyes. but jiyu was still ecstatic at his baby steps. progress was progress, and it was the thought that counted the most.

“okay, i’m going to put this part,” she gestured to the round, metal part of the stethoscope, “to your chest. it’ll let me hear your heartbeat.”

seeing his tense expression, she couldn’t help but feel a wave of deja-vu hit her. it’s like when i did this with seonghwa. she realized. she couldn't help but quietly giggle at the similarities between the two. 

yeosang slightly tilted his head at her giggle, yet said nothing about it. “g-go ahead,” he gave her the okay.

feeling the cold metal touch his chest, he slightly flinched before relaxing. he had to constantly remind himself that she wasn't going to hurt him. whether he fully trusted seojin when he told him that, he wasn't sure, but he still found the smallest bit of solace in those words. 

“okay, your heart seems to be beating normally,” jiyu mumbled, deciding to not mention how fast his heart was racing. “now, temperature...” she said, taking out a thermometer. 

yeosang’s eyes widened at the thermometer. it reminded him too much of the scanner that the breeding facility used to scan their collars every morning and night. 

“are you okay?” jiyu asked, seeing his scared gaze at the thermometer. “i promise, this is only to take your temperature. look.” putting the thermometer up to her own forehead, she pressed the button and a beep sounded, indicating that it took her temperature. she showed yeosang the numbers on the small screen. “see? it’s nothing harmful.”

yeosang said nothing, but his body visibly relaxed. taking it as a good sign, she gently brushed the front pieces of his blonde hair away before taking his temperature. and just like she said, nothing bad happened. 

after a few more steps to the checkup (and some reassuring that the blood pressure machine wouldn't cut off his blood circulation even though it was extremely tight), jiyu happily smiled. “you did good today, yeosang. i really appreciate you allowing me to conduct a checkup,” she said. 

noticing some papers on the table underneath his documents, jiyu curiously glanced at them and aw’ed at the small, cute drawing. she figured it must’ve been yeosang’s. “this is so adorable,” she squealed. on the paper was a small, cartoon-like character that was holding a flower, and had the most adorable smile.

yeosang’s fox ears stuck to the side of his head while his human ones turned red out of embarrassment. he had forgotten he’d left his drawings there. 

“oh! my apologies, i didn't mean to snoop,” she sheepishly said, setting the paper back down. “but i really meant it when i said it was adorable.”

“...hehetmon,” yeosang whispered, his ears still burning. 

jiyu tilted her head in confusion. “pardon?”

“it’s name. i named him hehetmon...” he said again, trailing off towards the end. he felt weird since it was out of character for him to be conversing with a human. 

nervously glancing up at jiyu, he was surprised to see the look of adoration and awe in her eyes. if they had been in a cartoon, her eyes would’ve been sparkling. 

“wait, that's literally so adorable,” she said, looking down at the drawing once again. it portrayed the inner child in yeosang, it showed her how maybe there was a glimmer of light still left in him despite the mental scars. 

“you know,” jiyu mindlessly said, her eyes never leaving the drawing. “i kind of know how you feel, being abandoned and all that...”

yeosang’s eyebrows furrowed at her words. impossible. there’s no way that a human could even understand an ounce of what—

“you’re probably thinking that there’s no way a human could understand, right?” she wryly smiled at his shocked expression. “you’re right, though. i may not understand completely, but i still know what it feels like to be left behind and used.”

in his eyes, i’m just a tool for his and the company’s benefits.

snapping out of her trance-like state, she gently smiled at yeosang. “i’m sorry, i rambled quite a bit. but i hope that no matter what life throws at you, no matter how many curveballs the universe throws at you, that you keep yourself grounded. even if it means drawing thousands and thousands of your hehetmons,” she said before making her way towards the door. 

“um...”

turning around, jiyu’s eyes practically bulged out of her head when she saw yeosang standing behind her and offering her one of the hehetmons he drew. embarrassed, yeosang looked away as his cheeks and ears burned pink. “m-maybe it’ll make you happy, too—” he tried justifying.

a small grin spread on jiyu’s face as she accepted his drawing, feeling so many emotions swell in her chest. heck, she could've cried, as it was the sweetest gesture she’s received from him. “thank you, i’ll treasure it.” 

from her tone, yeosang could sense how the genuinely meant it, and how much she appreciated it. it gave him a sense of comfort that maybe there really was someone that not only appreciated hehetmon, but also his existence.

she tucked the drawing safely away in the folder as she left, saying goodbye to yeosang. 

“oh, jiyu!” seojin caught up with her in the hall. “i see you managed to visit yeosang,” he smiled. “how was it?”

“he...seemed to open up a lot more today,” she smiled. “and i came to realize that there just might be a little spark of light in him left. despite everything he went through.”

catching a glimpse of a drawing in the folder, seojin chuckled. “trust me, i think the sparks of light will grow brighter soon,” he mumbled.

“did you say something?” 

“huh? nope, nothing at all!” he boyishly smiled, his fangs peeking through.

she playfully scoffed, jostling him with her shoulder, although he didn’t even budge. “i’ll pretend you didn’t say anything, then.”

“how rude, miss.”

and she really did treasure the drawing yeosang gave her.

that night, after dinner, mingi spotted a new drawing on the fridge door. he knew none of them had done it, considering how horrible they were at art (minus hongjoong, but mingi knew it wasn’t something he would draw). “who drew this?” he asked jiyu who had entered the kitchen again after running taking a shower. 

“seonghwa’s twin!” she chirped, laughing when seonghwa whined out of confusion from the couch as he played animal crossing.

twisting around away from the tv screen, he pouted. “i swear i’m an only child!”