#just kidding I’m not sorry what kind of idiot lets a 7 year old run away cross country

[nakamurareia]

I can accept annabeth going to new rome bc this girl literally ran away at 7 years old and then got raised by a 12 and 14 year old for a couple months and then an immortal half horse and said 14 year old. she probably can’t conceptualize how fucked up new rome is bc adults aren’t real to her (she’d def go to an ivy if we’re being fr tho. maybe yale? like her family has money too). but percy? percy who sally has loved and diligently protected at every turn? percy who knows what proper adults are like bc his mum has always been there for him? percy who lives in mortal society and knows normal life (tangentially)? that percy? rr is genuinely such a joke like it’s so clear he has no memory of his own characterizations it’s frankly baffling

[scuttling]

Happy Accidents

Fandom: Criminal Minds Pairings: Aaron Hotchner/Female Reader Word Count: 6,300 Tags: 18+, NSFW, Art, Neighbor Hotch, Shy and Oblivious Hotch, Flirting, It's soo sappy I'm sorry, Oral sex, Unprotected sex Summary: Aaron's new neighbor is out of his league for so many reasons: she's young, beautiful, artistic, unique, free-spirited, the kind of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. It's no wonder he ends up falling in love with her. *Requested by anon Link to A03 or read below! Against all of his better judgement, Aaron is kind of creeping on his new next door neighbor.

He is absolutely the type of man, any other time, to approach a woman he’s interested in and introduce himself, look for a way to connect, some common ground, but this is no ordinary woman.

She is out of his league in so many ways: young, beautiful, unique, free-spirited, the type of person who turns heads when she walks down the street. There’s not a chance in hell she would look twice at an old, stuffy, monotone suit with a seven year old son and perpetual bags under his eyes. That’s not him feeling bad about himself, it’s just the way the world works.

The first time he saw her, she was getting on the elevator while he was getting off of it, and they’d bumped into each other; she was wearing a short, flowy dress, and she’d smiled at him, apologized, eyes sparkling, smelling like she’d spent all day in the sunshine. It was the only time since Haley he’d ever entertained the idea of love at first sight.

She keeps to herself most of the time, gives off the air of being really cool and mysterious; their paths have crossed a few times since then—at the bank of mailboxes downstairs, in the hallway they share, once during a false alarm fire alarm—but he enjoys watching her paint more than anything.

They have balconies next to each other, and one night when he was tending to his herb garden—Jack enjoys watching the plants grow, and picking the herbs, Aaron likes to eat them—he spotted her standing on hers, facing away from him, in cut off jean shorts and a baggy t-shirt, barefoot. She’d been painting the city, the sky, with the sunset glowing behind her like she was the work of art, and he actually felt an ache in his chest, the feeling of missing someone he’s never really met.

Since that night, he’s started taking his work outside in the evenings after Jack goes to bed, and sitting in near silence while she paints, hums—sometimes songs he knows, sometimes songs he doesn’t. The first time he goes out before she does, she says hello when she drags her easel out, so he starts to say hello to her when she beats him there, too, but that’s pretty much the extent of their interaction. One evening when Aaron and Jack are getting home from dinner, she is lugging a canvas bigger than she is through the hallway and Jack almost runs headfirst into it; when he looks up, he exclaims about how big it is, and pretty—it’s covered with colors, something abstract and cheerful, and even if he’d seen it on the side of the road, he would have just known that she painted it. (That may be a good indicator that he’s getting in a little too deep.)

“Wow, that’s the biggest painting I’ve ever seen! And so many colors,” Jack says, awed. Aaron puts his hands on his shoulders to keep him out of her way; they’re already bothering her enough, when she’s clearly trying to get that giant thing home.

“It’s pretty cool, isn’t it? I carry bigger pieces around at my studio, believe it or not,” she says to him, poking her head around the side to look at him.

“You have a studio?” His eyes are wide with interest; his favorite subject has always been art, as evidenced by their refrigerator, which is covered in drawings. She offers him an even brighter smile.

“I do! It’s not far from here; it’s called Live in Color. There’s a big rainbow painted on the side.”

“That’s so cool; it must be awesome to have your own studio.” Aaron loves that Jack seems to be so passionate about this, but the way they are obviously holding her up has him feeling awkward; he tugs gently on Jack’s backpack.

“That is really cool, bud, but we should let her go. I’m sure that’s heavy.” She smiles, shrugs.

“It’s no trouble. Hey, actually, we have some children’s art classes at the studio, and you look like you’d fit right in with the Green group—ages 7-9?” She looks up at Aaron, who nods. “Maybe we can talk dad into bringing you down sometime. We do painting, drawing, and crafts, it’s really fun.” She’s still looking right at Aaron, gives him a little wink, and he swears to god he gets butterflies in his stomach.

He’s a grown man. A federal agent. With butterflies. It’s insane.

“Oh man, dad, please? Can I take classes at her studio pleeease?” Jack tugs on the sleeve of his suit, and he nods, smiles down at him.

“Yeah, absolutely, Jack. We’ll go down and get more information tomorrow?” he offers, to both placate him and finally free the poor girl from the conversation; he nods excitedly, and she smiles, looks sweet, genuinely happy Jack is so excited to take the class.

“Cool, I look forward to seeing you guys there. Actually, if you give me one sec, I can grab my card for you.” She passes them, carrying the canvas and looking effortless while she does it; she props it up against the wall to get her keys out, unlocks her door and heads in, pops back out with a business card in a vivid watercolor yellow. “It has the address and phone number for the studio on the front, and I put my cell on the back; I figured it couldn’t hurt, considering we live next door to each other. Now you know who to call if you ever have an art emergency.”

He takes the card from her fingers, flips it over just to see the handwritten name and number; he knew her script would be lovely, and it is, easy and flowing and natural. It suits her. He tries not to grin, or flush, or otherwise be awkward about the fact that she just gave him her phone number, however innocently.

“Thank you. We’ll see you tomorrow.” They turn to head for their apartment, and she clears her throat; he smiles a little, turns back, and she’s leaning casually up against the canvas with her arms crossed.

“You know my name now. What’s yours?” She’s just being polite, but he gets the goddamn butterflies again.

“Aaron.” She smiles, something beautiful and a little wild.

“Okay, Aaron. See you outside.” From then on, most of their free time, be it evenings or weekends, is spent at the studio. Aaron isn’t the only parent who sticks around—it’s an art class, not a daycare, he doesn’t feel right just dropping Jack off and leaving him there—and he’s also not the only parent, it seems, who is aware of his beautiful young neighbor.

“She’s incredible, right?” another dad says to him one evening, over by the coffee. Aaron looks him over briefly—it’s a job hazard, he sizes up everyone, but he already has a weird feeling about this guy. “I’ve been bringing my kid here for a month just to look at that little ass running around. My wife just thinks our daughter is just really into art.” He says it with a laugh, like that’s a ridiculous concept. Aaron feels himself start to boil.

“You shouldn’t be disrespectful. She’s doing a great thing here, for the children; she’s not doing it for you to ogle her.” He feels a little hypocritical, because he is also looking, but not like this guy. He knows guys like this. He puts away guys like this.

He glances over at Aaron, looking a little taken aback that someone actually commented on his behavior, then rolls his eyes.

“She doesn’t need you to defend her honor, buddy. She wouldn’t run around here in those overalls if she didn’t want us looking. It’s job security.” She’s wearing the overalls tonight, denim shorts with one of the straps unhooked, a t-shirt underneath, but it’s not as if she’s performing a striptease. She just looks like an artist, covered in drips of paint, smiling as she looks at the kids’ pictures over their shoulders. Aaron really, really hates this guy.

“In my experience, women usually dress for themselves; they probably have pockets, easier to keep things at hand that she may need, and it’s warm in here, so she’s likely dressing for comfort. She’s certainly not dressing for you.”

As if she can sense the tension, she looks over at them, flicks her eyes over Aaron, then the other guy, and walks over with a soft smile on her face.

“Hey, Aaron, Jack really wanted you to see what he’s working on.” She reaches out a hand, wraps it around his wrist and guides him over to Jack’s table. “I figured I’d save you,” she says when they’re out of earshot. “That guy sucks. He’s always saying creepy things to me and Alaina.”

“You should ask him to leave if he makes you uncomfortable,” he says, looking down at her with worry. “I can do it.” She shrugs.

“I would, but his daughter really does enjoy the class, and it’s not fair to her that her dad’s disgusting. It’s nothing we can’t handle.” She squeezes his wrist lightly. “Thanks, though. Hey Jack, show dad your project.” He peers over his shoulder, and it’s a pink and orange skyline, much like the one he saw her painting that first time on the balcony. “I asked the kids to paint my favorite thing today, and that’s sunset.”

“I saw you painting this one night,” he says, and then he feels abruptly like an idiot. She just smiles at him though, nods.

“Yeah, I’m a sucker for a beautiful sunset. It makes you feel like, just because the day ends, it doesn’t have to mean things are over; it’s just one of life’s beautiful natural transitions. And the colors are to die for: peach, coral, jasmine, rose, tiger’s eye.” He finds himself unexpectedly touched by her description, smiles softly to shake himself of the emotions.

“The way you see the world is extraordinary. To me it’s just kind of… orange.” She returns his expression, but softer, and squeezes his wrist again; he didn’t even realize she was still holding it.

“Sounds like you need some art in your heart. I give lessons for adults, too; you could even come over and paint with me on my balcony, some time. Special neighbor privileges.”

The thought of being with her on her balcony while she paints is almost overwhelming, which he finds funny, considering he currently sits no more than twenty feet away. There is an intimacy about it, while they both do their work in the cool, quiet breeze, but standing like this, close enough to touch, with the late day sun on her face while she talks about colors… he’s not sure he could handle it without falling in love.

She pats him on the back, moves on to another child, and he tells Jack what a great job he’s doing; his face is lit up, so happy, and regardless of the neighbor, he’s glad they stumbled upon this hobby.

When they pack up to leave, the jerk from earlier comes up to him, leans in to speak in a hushed voice. “You should have just told me you were fucking her. I would have backed off.” He blinks, but the guy and his daughter are walking out the door before he finds himself able to do more than that. About a week later, he goes over for that lesson almost by accident. Jack is at Jessica’s for the night at his request, and Aaron was planning to order takeout and have a paperwork cramming session, but when goes out onto the balcony, phone in hand to place an order, his neighbor is standing on hers like she’s waiting for him.

“Hey. I saw you don’t have Jack; I made some pasta with vodka sauce, if you’re hungry. I always prepare too much.” He sets his phone on the table, walks over to the railing to get a little closer.

“Uh. Sure. I have fresh basil growing here; trade?” She smiles, nods.

“Yeah, sounds delicious. I’ll be right back.” She ducks inside, returns a few moments later with two dishes of steaming, saucy pasta, sets one down on her table and gets right up against her railing, hands the other over to him across his. “That one’s for you,” she says, handing him an orange plate, and he sets it down, picks a few good looking leaves from his basil plant and tears them up, drops them on top. “And this one’s for me.” She reaches, holds a green plate over the gap between their porches, and he adds some basil to it before she pulls it back, takes a deep sniff. “God, it smells so good and fresh. Thank you, Aaron.”

“Thank you, it looks great.” He goes to sit at his table with it, but she scoots her chair closer to the railing, closer to his balcony, so he does the same. They make easy small talk while they eat, mostly about Jack, a little about her studio and his work.

“FBI, huh? I can definitely see that, with your suits, and your… neutrals.” She cringes when she says it, and it makes him laugh.

“I’m sorry I can’t wear paint covered overalls to the office,” he teases, and she shoots him a playfully affronted look, grins.

“You love my paint covered overalls—and for the record, you’d look great in them. You should find a pair. Preferably not black.” He flushes a little at that, but she doesn’t notice, just finishes up her pasta with a sigh of contentment. “That was so good, thanks again for the basil.”

“You’re welcome; thanks for feeding me something other than the takeout I planned to have.” He stands up, gestures to his apartment. “I’ll wash the plate and then hand it back over.”

“Why don’t you just bring it over and come paint with me for a little while? If you want,” she tacks on, and for the first time she seems a little nervous. “I’m not trying to be pushy, I just think it would be fun.”

It’s not that he doesn’t want to; it would be amazing to watch her paint up close and personal. He’s just also afraid he’ll pass the point of no return if he does it, and he can’t handle any more heartache. He only very recently got to a place where just waking up in the morning no longer causes him agony.

It’s the look on her face, though, soft and sweet and open, that makes his decision for him.

“Yeah, okay. I’d like that.” She grins.

“I’ll unlock the door.”

She’s dragging out her easel when he walks through the door; her apartment is stark white walls with vibrant furniture, artwork, canvases propped up against every bare spot along the wall, paints and brushes and charcoal and pencils on every surface. It’s exactly what he would have expected, warm and lived-in and comforting, very unlike the mostly black and gray interior of his own apartment. She smiles when she sees him.

“Hey! Can you grab that tray of paint on your way out?” she asks, and he picks up what looks kind of like an ice cube tray filled with many different colors, carries it out to the balcony with him. She has a canvas propped up, a little larger than a computer monitor, and she’s gotten started, but he can’t tell what it’s going to be just yet. When he hands her the paint she looks down at it, peers around the edge of the canvas like she’s comparing something. He’s so intrigued, curious about the way her mind works, what she’s thinking.

“What are you painting?” he asks when she picks up a brush, sets it down, picks up another. She smiles at him.

“Well, we’re painting that.” She points to the street, where there’s a rusty, pale blue antique car parked—he says that loosely, because it looks broken down—in the alley. Aaron chuckles softly.

“We’re going to paint that? It’s a little… grim.”

“Yes. It’s part of a series I just decided to create: ‘Beauty in the Ordinary.’” She sighs, and he’s surprised to see that her eyes are a little wet. She wipes the back of her hand over her eyes. “You know Bob Ross, right? Everyone knows Bob Ross.” He nods.

“Yes; the guy who paints the happy trees on PBS.”

“Right. I used to watch him growing up, and I vividly remember something he said once, about needing both darkness and light in life and in painting. ‘You have to have a little sadness once in a while to know when the good times come. I’m waiting on the good times now.’” She sniffles, exhales softly. “I’m waiting on the good times too. Sometimes looking at things like this car, and forcing myself to find something beautiful in it, is the easiest way to get through the day. Does that make sense?” He swallows hard when she looks up at him, because aside from Jack, she has been the lightest part of his life since the first time they passed each other on the elevator.

“Yeah, it really does.” She shoots him a soft, slightly sadder smile, and then explains about the paints a little, shows him the difference in the brushes, lets him feel the weight of them, the textures of the bristles.

She starts painting the car—the background is mostly finished—and he’s more than happy to watch, to hear her talk about her process. She asks if she can use his forearm to mix paints, and he turns it over, wrist up, tries not to smile too hard when she puts some dark blue on him, then white, mixing them and then comparing them to the car on the street. He looks down at her, the concentration on her face, the softness in her eyes, and is met with the sudden desire to brush a line of paint over her nose and make her laugh and kiss her breathless.

“Okay, your turn,” she says when she’s about halfway done with the car. She puts her hands on the backs of his arms, pulls him in front of the canvas so she’s between him and the railing. “You’ve been watching me, so you know what to do.” He has been watching her, but not necessarily for her technique, so he’s a little nervous; he dips the brush in the blue paint but hesitates to make a stroke. “I have faith in you, Aaron. Here.”

She wraps her fingers around his hand, guides him toward the canvas, and together they make a wide, curved line, rounding out the bumper. It doesn’t look half bad.

“It gets easier once you understand the relationship between specific paint, specific brushes, and your hands,” she says softly, and she helps him paint another line. “Are you having fun? You look stressed,” she teases, and he makes it a point to relax his face.

“I’m having a lot of fun,” he says, looking down at her; they make eye contact for a long moment, and she leans a little closer, and he leans a little closer, and then he accidentally dabs a blob of blue onto the canvas. He pulls back, grimaces, deflates. “I made a mistake. You can’t erase paint, right?” She laughs softly, takes the brush from his hand.

“No, you can’t erase paint, but as Mr. Ross would say, ‘There are no mistakes, only happy accidents.’” She gets her fingers close to the tip of the brush, makes a few quick movements, then grabs another brush, dips it in green. When she pulls back, there is a little blue flower growing out of a patch of grass where his blob used to be. He exhales, a little amazed.

“If only the mistakes we make in life were that easy to fix,” he says, and she nods.

“Yeah, that would be nice, but a lot of the time we find a way to turn them into beautiful things eventually. Are you willing to give it another shot?” He says yes, and she guides his hand for a while, then just hovers near it, then just instructs him on what to do. It’s dark before their painting is finished, and she carries it inside to dry, then takes him to the kitchen sink to scrub the paint off of his arm.

“Thanks for having me over; I had a really good time,” he murmurs as she dries his clean skin. She looks up, smiles softly, nods her head.

“I had a really good time too. I’m glad you came over; you’re welcome to join me any time.”

He says goodbye, heads home, looks at his stack of work with a groan, and brews a pot of coffee. He’s in for a long night, but he wouldn’t change his evening for anything. Life is much the same for the next few weeks: school and work, Jack’s art class at the studio a couple times a week, painting on the balcony on the weekend, with and without Jack. When Jack joins them for the first time, she pulls out a big box of markers and thick sheets of paper and he draws elaborate scenes while they talk and paint together. When Aaron makes mistakes, she’s never upset, just turns them into perfect little details that end up being his favorite parts of the paintings.

“What ever happened with your ‘Beauty in the Ordinary’ series?” he asks one evening while they’re painting some ocean waves. “Did I cause you enough trouble with the car to give up?” She looks down at the ground, looks a little shy, then shakes her head and smiles.

“No, you didn’t make me want to give up. I’ve been working on it at the studio. You’ll see it when it’s all done, I plan to hang them there.”

“Looking forward to it,” he tells her, and then Jack tugs on her shorts, shows them the picture he drew of the ocean, too.

Later that week, the team takes a case, and on the day he’s set to come home, Jessica drops Jack off at the studio with the plan that Aaron will pick him up when his flight lands. Due to some weather between where the team is and home, they get a little delayed; he doesn’t want to make Jessica head back out that way almost immediately after dropping him off, but he’s not sure who else he could ask to pick Jack up. It’s almost a stupid length of time before it dawns on him to call the studio.

“Life in Color, this is Alaina.”

“Alaina, hi, this is Jack’s dad—” He has his whole spiel prepared, but she cuts him off.

“Oh, sure, hang on a sec, she’s right here. It’s Jack’s dad,” she says, but it sounds further away, like she’s trying to cover the receiver. After a moment, his neighbor picks up.

“Aaron, hi. Jack said you were working.”

“Yeah, I was, and I’m supposed to pick him up after class, but our flight was delayed.” He doesn’t know how to ask for help with Jack; even with all the time they’ve been spending together, she still makes him a little nervous. Luckily, he doesn’t have to figure that part out on his own.

“Hey, that’s no problem. If it’s okay with you, I’ll just take him home with me. I’ll order pizza, we’ll draw, and you can just stop by when you’re home and pick him up.” He breathes a sigh of relief, runs a hand over the back of his head.

“That would be perfect. Thank you—I’ll owe you one.”

“You don’t owe me anything. Hanging out with your mini me is reward enough; he’s painting something special for you today, won’t let me see it.” That makes him smile, and he feels so warm at the prospect of picking him up from her bright apartment, seeing his artwork, her smile. After a long, draining day like this one, it’s exactly what he needs.

“I’ll have to remain in suspense until tonight, I guess. Can you let him know I said hi? And thank you, I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Of course. We’ll see you then.”

It’s late, after nine, by the time he makes it home. He doesn’t even take his bags inside, just drops them outside his door and knocks softly on hers. She answers with a smile, ushers him in, asks him if he’d like a drink and gets them each a beer.

Jack is in her room, asleep, so they have a little time to chat; she asks about his flight, his case, and he asks about the studio, and she gets a little shy when it comes to that topic, clears her throat.

“Um. I have Jack’s secret project, if you want to see it. He said I could show you.” He’s not sure why that would make her nervous—at least, until he sees it.

The background is all watercolors, a gradient of rainbow colors starting with pink at the top and ending with a soft purple at the bottom. Over that, in black marker, he’s drawn the three of them, with a big heart around them.

“Tonight’s theme was the thing that makes you the happiest, and he said he’s the happiest when the three of us are on the balcony together. It was… really, really sweet.” She looks up at him, brushes a hand over the crown of her head. “If I’m being honest, that’s when I’m the happiest, too.” He takes the picture from her hands, runs his fingers over it, and smiles, feeling a warm ache in his chest—not like before, not like losing someone he’s never really met, but like finding something he never really planned on.

“That’s when I’m the happiest, too,” he agrees, and when he looks up, she looks determined, like she does when trying to find just the right shade of paint. She takes Jack’s picture out of his hand, sets it on the counter, and then pulls him down by the lapels of his suit, kisses him long and slow. His hands move to her waist, keeping her close, and eventually she pauses for breath, looks at him again, and then wraps her arms around his neck and kisses him some more.

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you since the first time I saw you—tall and dark and serious, striding out of the elevator. So intriguing, mysterious,” she breathes when they separate again. “I wanted to know everything about you.”

“Are you kidding?” he asks, huffing a laugh. “I’m boring, but you are so vibrant, so full of life; I felt like you were everything I wasn’t, and I wanted to know you so badly.”

“You know me now; would you like to keep getting to know me?” It’s one of the easiest questions he’s ever been asked; he nods, and she beams, and he lifts her into his arms and carries her to the couch, drapes himself over her while she leans back against the cushions, pulling him closer.

They make out like neither of them have a care in the world—god, how long has it been since he’s made out with someone?—her fingers scraping through his hair, his hands on her bare waist when her shirt rides up, and she’s in the process of pushing his jacket off his shoulders when they hear a sound from the other room that startles them apart. Jack.

“I’ll go check on him,” Aaron says, and when he goes into her room Jack is still snuggled up on her bed sound asleep. It looks like some canvases fell over, though, and he stoops to pick them up, then spots the car they painted together. He turns and she’s right behind him, skids to a stop. “I thought you said these were at the studio?”

“They were,” she says, and she looks nervous again. “But I changed my mind about hanging them there. They felt too personal.” He runs his hand over the car and sees where she’s coming from; this one feels personal to him, too.

“Can I see the rest?” he asks. “Only if you want to show me them.”

“You’re the only one I want to show them to,” she says with a soft smile, and she grabs a few more canvases, carries them into the light of the living room. “Beauty in the ordinary, remember.” He remembers, could never forget.

She turns one over, and it’s a kitchen sink, and in the kitchen sink is an orange plate with a fork resting on it—like the plate she’d given him with the pasta on it. She turns one over and it’s a man’s hand, holding a paintbrush, with pale blue paint on his forearm. The next one is a little herb garden on a balcony; the next one is a view from above, of a sandy haired boy with markers all around him. The last one is an open elevator—ripe with possibilities.

When he looks up at her, she’s got tears in her eyes, and one slips down her cheek.

“So, I think I’ve found my good times.” She smiles through her tears, and he takes her face in his hands and kisses the salt from her lips. “I love you,” she says when he pulls back to wipe her face with his sleeve, and he kisses her softly, again and again, and tells her he loves her, too. The next weekend, Jack is at Jessica’s for a sleepover, and Aaron has been enlisted to help with an art project. He walks next door, knocks lightly, and enters the living room; he is met with a very deep, passionate kiss and a smile, and instructions to help move the furniture out of the way.

“I’m really curious what kind of art requires this much floor space,” he says, shoving her couch back against the wall, and she sinks her teeth into her bottom lip, a move he has been unable to resist since she did it the first time they had sex. She knows it’s a weakness, exploits it, and he loves every minute of it.

“You’ll see, but I promise you’re going to like it.” When they clear the floor, she grabs a large, rolled-up fabric canvas and lays it out in the middle of the room, then drops three bottles of paint—one is yellow (jasmine), one is orange (peach), and one is kind of pink (coral? He’s still not sure.)—onto it. “You can obviously say no if you want, but I wanted something over my bed with the sunset colors, and I found this…” She steps closer to him, runs her hands down his chest, guides him down for a kiss so delicious he loses his train of thought. “It’s sex art; we put the paint on the canvas, and on ourselves, and… you know, go at it. What do you think?”

He thinks he really, really loves art now, even more than he thought possible.

“So we have paint-covered sex and then you just hang it on the wall? Like regular art?”

“Yep, I got the supplies I’ll need to hang it; letting it dry will probably take the longest. I figured we could shower while it’s drying, maybe go for round two, if you’re up for it.” She moves her hand to his waist, slips it inside his shorts, and he pulls her closer to his body. “Are you up for it, Aaron?”

That is an understatement.

Undressing happens extremely fast, because this is really sexy and they’re kind of in a phase where they can’t keep their hands off of each other anyway. She pulls her hair up onto the top of her head to try to minimize the amount of paint in it, and then she pours paint on the canvas, turns around and drizzles some on his back and tells him to lay down.

“I think we should probably change positions often so we get a lot of motion on the canvas; I apologize to your old knees in advance,” she teases, but she soothes the sting of her words by pouring paint on herself and then laying between his legs and licking at his dick. “Do some stuff with your hands; I want to see those big handprints on my wall,” she murmurs, and he groans, puts his palms down in the paint and drags them through it.

She leans up a little, sliding her knees through some yellow paint, sucks him fully, deeply into her mouth for couple of minutes, and then stretches forward and puts an orange hand right in the middle of his chest; the look in her eyes is playful, and he reaches out with one finger, hooks it under her chin, and guides her off and up so they can kiss.

“Your turn,” he says with a smirk, and then he gets her onto her back and ducks between her legs, hopes she doesn’t grab for his hair like she usually does. He rubs his pointed tongue over her clit, waits for the mmm it always elicits, and looks up at her, covers each of her breasts with a paint-covered palm and squeezes. “Leave handprints for me,” he leans up and reminds her, kissing her stomach, and she plants her hands, then presses up and grabs his shoulder, smearing pink down his back. “Oh, you wanted more of that?”

“Don’t tease me, the paint will dry,” she whines, and he spreads her thighs wider with his elbows and licks her pussy quickly, until she’s squirming against the canvas and panting for more. “Come here, come here.”

He’s not ready for that, though, paint or not, wants her to come from this; he takes his hands off of her, dips them in the paint again and presses down, then puts his hands under her ass and brings her closer so he can fuck her with his tongue, quick and deep and slick.

“Aaron, Aaron, god.” She slides her hands down his arms, over his neck, digs her nails in when she comes moaning like music.

While she catches her breath, so gorgeous, she sticks her arms out like she’s making a snow angel, and he catches her while she’s off guard and turns her onto her stomach, puts his hands on the smears of paint he’s already left on her ass, and slides inside.

“Oh my god; I was trying to impress you with this sexy art project, but you’re rocking my world.” She’s breathless, pressing back into his thrusts and painting with her entire body. God, he loves her mind.

“You know I always take your projects very seriously,” he says, leaning forward to whisper in her ear, and she groans, laughs.

“Yes you do. From the side? Let’s lay diagonally.” They shift, and he hooks his chin over her shoulder, kisses her neck and huffs hot against her hair. “Hmm, love it like this,” she sighs, and she reaches back to press her hand to his hip, holding him while he moves inside her. “I love you.”

“Love you. I want you to finish on top of me,” he instructs with a wet kiss to her throat, and she nods against his lips.

“Yeah, next; I’m getting close.” A few more strokes and she gets up onto her knees, lets him lay back, propped up on his arms, and climbs on top of him; she kisses him slow and dirty and then runs her hands over him, sits back on his dick and glides up and down. “You wanna come like this too? I owe you a little world rocking,” she says with a flick of her tongue over his bottom lip, and he nods, squeezes her thigh.

“It’s the least you can do after making me move all the heavy furniture.” She rolls her eyes but kisses his chin, down his throat, and bounces harder on him, all delicious eye contact and moans. “Mmm. Just like that, baby, come for me.”

“Fuck. I will, I will.” She wraps a hand around the back of his neck, kisses him kind of rough and with lots of tongue, and then tips her head back and climaxes, clenches, wrings his orgasm out of him so quickly it’s almost jarring. “Oh, yes Aaron. So good,” she mumbles, and then he lays back, out of breath, and she slides out of his lap and lays beside him, out of breath too.

After a moment, she looks over at him, smiles, and swipes a pink fingertip over his cheek.

“This is the hottest thing I’ve ever done with anyone. I’m glad I got to do it with you.” He rolls on top of her, presses a kiss to her nose, and nods.

“Me too. You know,” he adds after a moment, “my bedroom could use some artwork, too.” She grins, wraps her arms around him and squeezes tight.

“You’re right; I think we should do yours in blue: liberty, that’s dark blue; periwinkle, that’s light blue; maybe steel gray, too.”

“You’re the expert. I’m just your paintbrush.” Her hands smooth up his back, and contentment washes over him like a warm breeze.

“Hmm. I like the sound of that. Want to get cleaned up?”

Cleaning up is almost as fun as making the mess, because they’re well and truly covered, and when the canvas dries, the sunset colors are almost as beautiful as the ones she used the first time he ever saw her paint. Taglist ❤️: @arsonhotchner @mrsh0tchner @ssahotchie @sleepyreaderreads @mintphoenix @meghannnnnn @disgruntledchowchow @azenpal @g-l-pierce @my-rosegold-soul @ssamorganhotchner @heliotropehotch @angelhotchner @qtip-blog @gspenc

[sapiowoman28]

I can, I can't : Part 1 of 3

Pairing: Jaemin x female reader

Gener: best friends to lovers au, smut, fluff

Warning: mentions of sex, masturbation (Female)

Summary: Jaemin and Y/N are part of a group of best friends. One day, things change.....

They called themselves the dropouts. Brought up in good Catholic families, active within the Church community as kids, Catholic school education... the works. They then grew up and stopped going.

It wasn't some group thing were everyone agreed to stop going altogether at the same time. It was more like, one by one, they stopped going.

Jeno was the first to stop, at 15, after his parents got divorced. He became angry and withdrawn. By 16 he was mixing with the wrong crowd - think underaged drinking, partying, It was only after a close brush with the law that he - literally and figuratively - sobered up and decided to focus on healthier pursuits like education and sports. Thankfully too, the old Jeno that everyone knew and love came back.

Then were was Renjun. Renjun was always the one who wasn't really into religion anyway. He was more apt to believing in aliens and ghosts. His mother kept him going for as long as she could. By 18 he was out.

Haechan, as he got older, became a sporadic goer. After moving out on his own to live with the guys and Y/N in an apartment closer to campus, he stopped too.

Y/N? The older she grew, the more she learnt about the importance of gender equality. The more she embraced feminism, the more she found some church teachings hard to swallow.

All was left, of course, was Jaemin. Now Jaemin, he was still a "good boy", faithfully going to Church every Sunday. It wasn't that he was extremely religious. It was more that he had gone to Church every single week all his life. To not go one week felt odd and different.

The good thing was, nobody made fun of him or tried to stop him from going. Jeno even woke him up on Sunday mornings before he went for his 10km runs just so Jaemin would get to mass on time. (Mass is what Catholics call a church service.)

Y/N enjoyed hanging out with her friends. She was like one of the boys. It had always been like that since they were young. Everyone who knew Y/N knew she was not to be messed with. Not only was she capable of kicking anyone's balls, she also had four bros who would come after their ass too. In fact, guys who were interested in dating her would often try to get in good standing with the four guys so life would be easier for them. So it was hardly surprising that Y/N had never had her heart broken.

The problem was, Y/N was the one breaking hearts. Commitment wasn't her strongest suit, and more often than not she'd break off with whoever she was seeing with very trivial reasons, First she was dating Xiaojun. Then 7 months later she broke it off with him because apparently he "sucked at making out". The truth was, Xiaojun was good enough in bed but Y/N wanted to date the more exciting Yang Yang after meeting him at a frat party her gal friends dragged her to and making out with him. So Yang Yang it was. For a while she was happy. But then 10 months passed and Yang Yang was history. Now it seemed, was some guy called Lucas.

"Now, before you guys misunderstand, Lucas is not my boyfriend." Y/N declared over a pizza with Jaemin one Saturday night. "He's just... a friend..."

Jaemin raised his eyebrow. "You mean a friend with benefits? Cos based on what we have to hear every single Friday night, none of us think you guys are friends. Speaking of which.... Jeno wants me to talk to you."

"Let me guess, you lost rock paper scissors. Again. And that's why you're the one speaking to me."

"Well, we have house rules to follow..." Jaemin started, looking somewhat uncomfortable.

"Jeno and his stupid house rules." Y/N sighed. "What now? I can't bring Lucas home?"

"It's getting kind of weird for all of us...."

"You guys bring girls home all the time!" Y/N protested.

"I don't." Jaemin said. It was true.

"Jeno does. Haechan does. Even Renjun! Remember that weird Yoga chick he was seeing?"

"But they're not loud. Lucas sounds like he has a loudhailer in his throat and it's weird hearing him......we end up having to use headphones."

"I've tried asking him to tone it down. But he gets too excited when I blow him..." Y/N grinned as Jaemin covered his ears with his hands, not wanting to hear the details.

"Look, Jeno says he appreciates that YOU have gotten less loud since that time you were dating Yang Yang. But Lucas he's just.... too expressive. Can't you do it at his house or something? It's not the moaning as much as the dirty talk, you know?" Jaemin's voice was getting tinier and tinier.

"If Jeno has a problem, why can't he tell me himself?" I know it's not Haechan or Renjun who are complaining. Haechan's always gaming with his stupid headphones on and Renjun's always listening to music on his noise cancelling ones."

Jaemin sighed. "Don't put me in a tough spot, Y/N..."

He looked at her with puppy dog eyes.

"Fine. I'll speak to Lucas. But I'm only doing it cos of you, cos you good Catholic boy and virgin and all."

Jaemin rolled his eyes. "For the last time, Y/N, I'm not a virgin!"

Lucas took the news surprisingly well and he was happy to have her hang at his apartment instead. Which turned out to be a better thing, since his apartment was bigger and his housemates were never around. Y/N wondered why she insisted on making out at her apartment to begin with.

"I'm surprised Jeno was the one with the problem.." Lucas said after they had made out and she was snuggling in his arms.

"He has all these rules. The worst part is he makes Jaemin speak to me instead of telling me directly."

"It makes sense. You and Jaemin are close."

"I'm close to all four of them."

"No no no." Lucas said, "Each of them has a different thing with you."

"Explain, Mr Wong." she said, looking up at him.

"I think Jeno knows both of you have strong characters so he has Jaemin speak to you instead when there's an issue so you guys won't argue. He prefers to keep things light, so the most you're gonna get is Jeno making fun of you for having a thing for foriegn men."

"What about Haechan?"

"Haechan's your gaming bestie. You talk about gaming, and game together. But he'd kick the ass of anyone who gives you trouble."

"I think I'm least close to Renjun."

"I don't think it's that. It's more Renjun is kind of in his own world. He's like that with everyone. But he feels close to you guys."

Y/N was impressed.

"What about Jaemin?"

"Jaemin's like your total opposite. But you guys get each other. I like him. He's a good guy."

"Yeah he's a virgin." Y/N joked.

"He's a good looking guy! Heck, if I was a chick I'd go after him man!" Lucas said, his eyes expressive as always.

"Well, he's a good guy. I've never seen him bring a girl home."

"Come on man, when it comes to hormones, even good guys turn bad."

Lucas was driving her home when she got a call from Jaemin.

"Wassup?"

"Are you alone?" Jaemin asked. He sounded strange. "I need help."

"Are you ok?" Y/N asked. "I'm with Lucas. Where are you?"

"Oh. I'll call someone else..."

"Don't be an idiot, Jaemin. Where are you?"

"Hospital." he said. "Can you come? Just don't tell anyone anything. Not even Lucas."

She found him in a bad state at the hospital. Sitting in a daze, blood stains on his crumpled shirt. Y/N had never seen Jaemin look so small.

"Hey" she half whispered. He looked up.

"I can go now. I got an x-ray done. My nose is not broken. And it's finally stopped bleeding." he said. "I already collected my medicines. Mostly painkillers."

"What happened?" she asked.

"I don't want to talk about it." he said.

"Let's get home and get you out of these bloody clothes. And then you can tell me after you've had a good night's sleep."

"Can i sleep in your room tonight?" he asked. It was an unsual request. "I'm feeling quite shaken."

"Yeah. Sure. Let's do that."

It was 2am and he still couldn't sleep. She could feel him toss and turn next to her.

"Jae."

"Sorry."

"No, I can't sleep either."

He sat up.

"I need to get my ID card back. Can you follow me tomorrow?"

"Your ID card?"

"I was fooling around with a first year chick in her house. Her parents came back and caught us. Her dad took my ID away, said he was going to lodge a police report against me for tresspassing his house and taking advantage of his daughter. Well, that's after he beat me up."

Y/N sat up. This was interesting, she thought.

"She's 18?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"18 is legal you dumbass." she slapped her forehead.

"I thought it was 21.."

Y/N groaned. "I can't believe you're so stupid."

"But the trespassing thing?"

"They don't have a case Jae. I'm sure you can prove you were invited there. Even if she lies and said she didn't invite you. They can't prove it beyond a reasonable doubt."

"I'm so glad you're studying law."

"And Jaemin?"

"What?"

"It's illegal for him to detain your ID. YOU can report him."

"Oh. I didn't know that."

"Can you go sleep now that you know you're not actually in trouble?"

"Yes. Thanks Y/N." he said, turning to face the opposite side.

But Y/N couldn't sleep. Her mind was running a million miles a minute. Jaemin made out with someone. What was he like when making out? Was he gentle? Was he sweet like he always was to everyone? Was he a dom or sub? What did he do with the girl? Did he have fun?

Her own thoughts made her sick. Feeling a stir in her stomach made her sick. This was her best friend she was thinking of. She had to stop. Maybe she needed a shower.

Taking a towel with her to the bathroom, she shut the door, stripping quickly and getting under the hot jets of water. Damn it, Y/N, she scolded herself. Not Na Jaemin. What happened to your thing for Chinese guys?

She soaped herself trying to escape the mental picture of Jaemin, between the girl's thighs, lapping on her clit mercilessly, his eyes twinkling like they would whenever Jeno or Haechan said something witty. Suddenly, she was thinking of him between her legs, lapping at her core.

She brought her fingers to her clit, rubbing them from side to side. She leaned against the bathroom wall, moving more aggressively. She was wet. Biting her lip she pushed two fingers into her pussy, thrusting them in and out, the sound of the shower masking the wet noises as her fingers moved.

The muscles in her stomach were tightening. She could no longer hold back, thinking of Jaemin thrusting into her, looking at her with an intense gaze. She wanted him bad.

Slowly she came undone, as she moaned into her hands while cumming.

Suddenly, someone was knocking aggressively on the bathroom door. Y/N froze.

"I need to pee!" Haechan shrieked. "Hurry! I need to go back to my game!"

"Give me 2 minutes I'll be done." Y/N said, drying herself with her towel and getting dressed, mind still dazed from thinking about Jaemin. She knew their friendship was never going to be the same ever again.

She was just wondering how easy or hard it was going to be, to get Jaemin to join her on the other side.

[iwhishtomeetinournextlife]

An anonymous lover (Part 5)

Summary : Y/N sees Sirius Black running away after a particularly rough letter from his mother. She wants to cheer him up and decide to send him a letter, anymously, she knows how much he hates her house.

Warnings : Slytherin!Reader, female!reader, angst, arguing, not proof read

Word count : 2.2k

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - You're here - Part 6 - Part 7

English is not my first language, sorry if there is any mistakes

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

It is not possible. It is a mistake. He has dream of that moment so much, he is just imagining things now.

Sirius was in his dorm, laying down, looking at the stars on the canopy of his bed. He has stuck all the enveloppe he had receive decored with stars there, so he could see the sky before falling asleep, this had helped him to sleep better for the past few weeks.

But even the soothing looks of the stars could not help him calm his mind, he simply could not believe the person he was exchanging letters with, for now soon to be two months, was a slytherin. He knows her house shouldn’t be important, that no matter what she had helped him in so many ways, but he had developped such a hated for this house, he could simply not accept it.

He didn’t dare to compare the handwriting, fearing it would be indeed true, but after a few minutes he finally decided to look, he had to be sure, he couldn’t stay in the mystery like that for much longer.

He took the notes Y/N gave to him and the latest letter, the one he got today, it was a warming letter, she was talking about how she used to climb trees with her brother when she was a kid but never dared to go high, and how all the assignment was stressing her out and that writing to him helps her feeling better. Sirius felt like shit reading the lines.

He finally compare the two handwriting and threw his head back when they were the same. All the memories of the letter who were a source of joyed turned into a taste of disgust in the back of his tongue. What was before a blessing to be able to read those impossible lines became a curse. He hated it.

He hated how much of an impact her being a slytherin had on him, he didn’t want to deal with the emotion and decided to burry it deep inside of him. He didn’t copy the notes Y/N gave him and used Remus’ instead, he didn’t go to supper that evening, he didn’t respond to the letter like usual, and he didn’t sleep that night.

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

Y/N was a bit surprise to not have any letters from Sirius that night, she had not see him in the Great Hall either, that got her a bit worried. She tried to reassure herself, he did say he had difficulties with that specific potion so he was probably studying.

She laughed at that idea, she had never seen him study before, clever and smart Sirius. Always finding ways out of situation, always the right answer in class if he bothered participating. The two month were over soon she realised and he had still to find her. She felt a bit of dispointment but also a satisfaction of winning the bet. She blushed when she remembered Sirius had promised a date if he find her before. Would he still wants to ask her if the bet  was over ?

She thought for a moment, she hoped he would, she was still a bit scared to reveal herself, but she was confident everything would go alright if she did. After all, they had spend so much time sharing their hearts, it couldn’t desappear that easily, right ?

The next day she searched for him in the crowd and she felt her stomach flip, he looked livid, her first thought went to his mother, has she send another letter ? She felt so bad for him, she just wanted to hold him in her arms and tells him everything would be alright because he was capable of anything.

When their eyes met, Sirius quickly looked away, he didn’t want to see her, didn’t want to think of all the things happening in his head and she was only making things worse. Y/N didn’t know what to think of that, she decided to let him his space, he could always write to her if he needed her help.

But Y/N’s concern only got worse, it was Remus who gave her back her notes, and when she asked if Sirius was ok, he just nodded and said he will be alright. He completly ignore her in class, and wierdly enough he seemed to look at her way more often than before but always looked away when she noticed him.

She send a little message, a very short one, “Are you ok ? I’m worried”, all she was able to write down, she felt a weight in her stomach getting heavier every day and sharp glass in her throat forbbiding her to talk.

Those feeling only got worse when Sirius only responded with “I know who you are. Astronomy tower, 11PM, tomorrow” Y/N has never sweat that much in her entire life.

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

The walk from the dungeon to the astronomy tower was a long walk, and she was very careful to not get caught by anyone patrolling the corridors, she was trembling like a leaf in the wind. Each step getting heavier. But when she finally arrived, he was there, looking at the window, he turned to her when he heard someone enter.

For a solid second they just stand there, looking at eachother, not daring to say a word, but after a few moment it Y/N who spoke. “So... You know who I am”

“Yeah..”, his eyes looked in the void, he didn’t know what to do, he felt completly paralized. “Well.. What now ?” she didn’t dare to look a him either. “I don’t know”

Y/N froze for a moment, he didn’t know ? He is the one who asked her to come here ! After all they shared to one another, all the words exchanged, all those freaking kisses and hugs that’s all he had to say ? What for ? “Is it because I’m a slytherin ?”

Sirius didn’t answer for a moment but that spoke for itself, Y/N scoffed, tears running down her cheeks. “Of course” Sirius frowned “What do you mean by that ?”

“Of FUCKING course the great Sirius Black can’t deal with the fact he befriended a slytherin, how could have i been this stupid to think he could get over his own prejudice on a house he knows nothing about” Sirius stood from the window seat and walked to her visibly pissed “I know enough ‘bout yer stupid house to know t’s just a bunch a soon to be death eaters !”

Y/N open her mouth, completly shocked “Death eater ? Death. Eaters ? What do you even know about it ? Have you even try to talk to-” “Actually, yes, I did ! And mind ya all those I have talked to are nothing but monsters, so I prefer keep you and your kind away from me as much as possible”

Heavy tears were falling, how could he say that ? Her voice were cracking “Me and my kind ?! Do I look like a monster to you ?” Sirius opened and closed his mouth a few times “Maybe, yeah ! I know nothing about you !”

“NOTHING ?! I OPEN MY HEART TO YOU AND SERVED IT ON A GOLDEN PLATE !”

“WELL I DON’T WANT IT ! YOUR PEOPLE ARE NOTHING BUT A SHAME TO THESE SCHOOL, I DON’T EVEN UNDERSTAND HOW YOU ARE LET STUDYING HERE !  NOTHING BUT ABOMINATIONS ! YOU WILL JU-”

“MAY I KNOW WHAT IS HAPPENING HERE ?!”

Y/N and Sirius froze, Professor McGonagall and prefect were standing at the door, arms crossed, a severe look on her face. “So ? I’m waiting”. Both the students were heads down, ashamed of being caught like four years old. It is Sirius who answered “Nothing Professor", she frowned when she saw the tears Y/N was quickly swipping away and her puffy eyes. “Well I am sure you will gladly do nothing at your detention tomorow after class”

“Yes Professor” have they replied in union, “Now, I believe you both know the way back to your dorm ? Go Miss Y/L/N, accompagny her Mister Collins, and it better not happen again” Y/N nod, unable to say another word and got out, following Collins. “Follow me Mister Black”, Sirius followed without a word.

After a few minutes, when they were starting to climb the moving stairs back to the Gryffindor commun room, she spoke, “I will not hide to you that I am quite desappointed Mister Black”, he frowned but before he could they anything, McGonagall added “I heard enough of your conversation to know what was happening, Mister Black” He felt his blood running out his face, probably leaving whiter than snow. “Professor I-”

“I don’t need your explainations, what you have said to Miss Y/L/N is simply intolarable, I thought better of you” Sirius was now red of shame, he didn’t know what to say, actually, he already regretted every words, he regretted them the second they have left his lips. “I can understand your disfavour toward the slytherin, I know your difficult relationship with your family and the fact they were all from this house, but I need you to understand that not all slytherin are bad people, the same way not all people who were from gryffindor turned out to be good people. Do you understand ?” Sirius nodded “I want you to think about it, goodnight Mister Black”

Sirius said goodbye and enter the common room before going to his shared dorm, he was not surprise to see that none of the marauders were sleeping. Sirius put the map he had used to sneek out in James drawer, his friend spoke “Where were you ?”

He didn’t answered at first, letting himself flopped on his bed, face first and groaning into his pillow. His friends looked at each other, worried, “Were you with a girl ?”, that only made him groaned louder. “C’mon, talk t’ us” said Remus, who stood up to sat beside his friend.

Sirius didn’t said anything for a moment, he was gnaw with guilt, he wanted all he said back, when he remember you crying his chest tighten, it was his fault if those tears were rolling down your cheek, if you were screaming at him, he had said such horrible thing to you but you didn’t said anything bad, you just observe a hard truth : this idiot could not go past his jugmental ass.

“The anonymous lover is Y/N”, all the marauders gasped together and hurried beside on his bed. “So ? What happenned ? You should be through the roof !” Sirius turned around, “I knew it for ‘ few days now”, James widen his eyes “ ‘nd you did tell us ?!”

Sirius grimaced “I know ! ‘m sorry ! ‘t just...” Remus frowned, something bad happened. “Pads, what have y’ done ?”, he simply put a pillow on his face, groaning and speaking intelligible words. “Wha’ ?”

“I TOLD HER SLYTHERIN WERE ABOMINATIONS !” they all sat there for a moment. James finally took the pillow from Sirius and hit him as hard as he possibly could with it “You. Are. An. I. DI. OT.”

“OUCH ! Yeah, YEAH ! I know, stop hitting me !” but he didn’t stop before a few more hit. He stop and catched back his breath. “I wouldn’t like to be you” said Peter, “Yeah, no shit Worm-” -another hit from James- “What do I do now ?!”

“Wha’ ? ‘cause you want her now ?” questionned Remus, he did not approve of his friend behavior, but he assumed that since he basicly called her a monster, he must not want to be with her. He observed his friend for a moment “C’mon, tell us everythin’ “

Sirius told them everything, from how he foud out, to what McGonagall had told him, passing by the horrible things he said to Y/N and him hiding his feelings away, getting interrupt occasionly by hit from James. But then he stopped, realising something horrible. “Oh no. Oh no no no no, I’M BECOMMING MY MOM !” He put his face in his hands. “I said such horrible things to her, she didn’t deserved any of it ! How do I make her feel better ?” He sounded desperate.

James put a hand on his friend’s shoulder “You gotta show her you really regret wha’ you said”

“Maybe some gifts ?” suggested Peter.

“Nah, first you have to deal with yer slytherin hate” said Remus.

Sirius frowned “What do you mean ?”

“If you want to date a slytherin, you have to deal with your irrational hate towards all of ‘hem”

“It’s not irrational ! I have perfectly good reas-” but he stopped mid-sentence, it was the argument with Y/N all over again, he sighed, he did need to deal with that.

“Let’s sleep, it’ll be better tomorow” said James who went to his own bed, the rest nodded and did the same.

Sirius put on some pyjamas and laid there for long minutes, thinking about why he hated slytherin so much, about his family, about Y/N. About the tears he caused, he wanted to punch himself for that, he swore that night that he will do anything to put a smile on her face and never see her cry again. He knew it will be hard but he will do anythign to deserve her fogiveness.

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

@blackpinkdolan  @jentaculargums @bruxa0007 @deathkat657 @theincredibledeadlyviper @bleh-bleh-blehs @whiskeypowder @edithsvoice @weasleybeb

[lottiebagley]

Snow covered courtyards- Oliver Wood

When he'd asked her to the ball he'd been certain she would say no. They'd been friends for a while but never particularly close, simply in the same year and house and therefore knew each other through mutual friends.

He'd always thought she was kind of unattainable, she seemed to always look perfect, she was smart and funny and kind and top of her classes. He never knew why but she always avoided Oliver a little, he spent nights laid in bed listening to Percy's snoring and racking his brains for any reason she might avoid him, an insult from years ago, a history between him and one of her friends but nothing quite came to mind.

It wasn't until a few weeks before the ball that he realised that maybe the reason she avoided him was because she wasn't quite as unattainable as he'd thought. He'd laughed at first when his best friend shrugged that she probably just had a crush on him, mouthful of cereal and a slightly bemused look on his face.

After that conversation he slowly allowed his brain to convince himself she just might like him back. After all why else would she blush when he catches her eye? why would she go to every quidditch game no matter how awful the weather? why would she giggle a little with her friends when he passes?

And so, Oliver Wood let a little spark of hope light in his heart and he began to plan how he would ask her to the ball.

He thought about asking her after they won a quidditch match when he was high on adrenaline but he didn't like the idea of being muddy and sweaty and with the fucking Weasley twins, their relentless teasing playing in his mind before it even happened.

Next he thought about making some production out of it in the great hall like he'd seen a few other people do, but he knew she'd hate being the centre of the entire school's attention.

He contemplated asking her at a party, figuring some liquid courage might make the prospect of asking his dream girl on a date a little easier, but didn't want her to think it was some drunk decision.

He settled on approaching her with a bouquet of flowers and just asking it, after all, he knew he was a good looking guy and most people found him charming if not a little intense. What he didn't think about though was that most people didn't make his heart beat too fast, his hands go clammy, and his words come out a stuttering mess.

Oliver announced to his friends one morning that today was the day he'd ask her out, they'd grinned widely, given him a pep talk, mocked him a little for his nerves and sent him on his way and Oliver had every intention to ask her out.

It was then that Oliver learnt the age old lesson.

Girls travel in packs.

No matter how hard he tried she was surrounded. Between classes, at meals, in the common room, christ even on her way to the bathroom. Whenever he saw her she'd have a gaggle of girls with her all of which would eye him with curiosity and smirks when he attempted to approach.

It took Oliver a further three days of attempting to catch her alone, his friends seeming to find the entire situation funnier by the hour, before it had happened. He'd caught a glimpse of her with Cedric.

Oliver Wood hated Cedric Diggory, hated that he was so often compared to him, hated that he had swoopy hair that made girls swoon, hated that he too was a good quidditch player. His newest reason though to despise the boy who showed him nothing but kindness was that he didn't clam up around her. He talked to her with ease and made her laugh.

If he'd done a little digging, Oliver would have easily found Cedric was a family friend and she viewed him like a brother. Through exasperated mutual friends sick of both their pining he'd have probably also learnt she had a massive crush on Oliver and had turned down multiple boys in the hopes Oliver would ask her to the ball.

He didn't dig though. Instead he scowled in the direction of Cedric and her, they were laughing by the quidditch pitch as the Hufflepuff practice ended and the Gryffindor's arrived for their own. She had been on her way to the greenhouses to grab a book she'd accidentally left there when Cedric had jogged over, unknown to Oliver actually asking if the Gryffindor had plucked up the nerve to ask her out. She had brushed her friend off, thinking it would be a miracle for Oliver Wood to fancy her back.

"Hurry up Wood, she's a good one, she'll get swept up all too soon," Fred smirks as he passes Oliver on his way into the changing rooms.

And with Fred's words in his mind Oliver grabs the bouquet of flowers from the office and marches towards her, Cedric spotting him coming and quickly taking his leave.

"Hi," He calls, cursing himself for not thinking to say her name when she doesn't even turn around, not used to him approaching her, "Hi-Y/N,"

She turns then, still clad in her uniform, hair blowing in the light wind and a small smile on her face.

"Oliver-uh-hey," She blushes a little as she falls over her words

"You're a really hard girl to get on her own," He comments. Fucking christ why does he sound like a stalker? The question spins in his mind but she seems to not think anything of the comment, instead blushing a little

"Oh- my friends and I are kinda inseperable," She shrugs lightly, not wanting an awkward silence so instead opting to ramble "They only aren't here now cause they are busy. Meg's at detention, Ali's with her boyfriend and Katie's tutoring some second year in potions. I'd have waited for one of them to be with me because honestly I kind of hate walking alone- not cause I'm weird or un-independent or any thing, I just, well I get a little anxious and feel like people are staring at me and-" She silences herself, suddenly coming to her senses and realising how crazy she's making herself sound. "Sorry,"

"Don't be. I think it's cute when you ramble," He admits, blushing as red as his quidditch robes when he realises what he's said.

"Did you need something or have I just embarrassed myself over a polite hello?" She questions, he chuckles a little making her feel mildly less uncomfortable.

"I was actually wondering if you wanted to go to the ball?" He questions. He feels a weight off his shoulder's once the question has been asked. Like suddenly even if she says no at least he could tell himself he tried.

"With you?" She questions, she realises she probably sounds more idiotic by the second but can't quite convince herself to believe her long term crush would actually ask her out.

"Uh-yeah," He's taken aback by the question and feels stupid for even thinking she'd consider it and suddenly the even if she says no bullshit is just that, because shit if the girl in front of him with wide eyes and a nervous smile doesn't say yes he thinks his heart might break in his chest.

"Like a date?"

"I was hoping,"

"I'd love that,"

Oliver feels like the luckiest person on earth. Watching as she blushes a little, but her smile is wide and god if he doesn't want to kiss her right there.

"Great,"

"Good,"

"Cool,"

"Yeah,"

Neither of them is quite sure what comes next and the interaction seems to run even more awkward. "You'll pick her up!" Oliver rolls his eyes at the sound of George Weasley, although thankful for the prompt, she blushes, peering behind him to see the entire Gryffindor quidditch team watching them.

"I'll pick you up," He confirms

"Right," She nods

"At 7? Outside your dorm?"

"Sounds good,"

"Okay," He grins brightly, still thinking this entire thing is his mind playing some cruel tricks on him.

"So you should go, your team awaits," She reminds, he nods, partly wanting the interaction over before he can make even more of a fool out of himself or ruin something before it even has a chance to start and partly wanting to live in this moment of pure joy for the rest of his life.

"Right, so I'll uh- see you at the ball- and- uhm- around before obviously," He stutters a little

"Great, I'll see you in both those places," She confirms, realising only after she's spoken how idiotic she sounds.

"The flowers Wood! Christ you're bad at this!" Fred shouts

"Always thought he had game," Harry comments

"We all did kid," George agrees.

"Sorry about them," Oliver apologises

"It's okay," She smiles gently, waiting patiently as he stands staring wondering why her eyes are flickering from him, to his team to his hands and-

"Oh right, these are for you," He confirms, passing the bouquet over and grinning when she blushes a little

"Thanks Oli,"

"Any time," He nods

**

When she pulls open her dorm door Oliver is certain time stops.

She looks like an angel, her makeup perfect, hair flowing in curls with a small section pinned back as to see her face clearly, Oliver is certain nothing else has ever looked as beautiful. She's dressed in a golden gown that shimmers in the light and makes her look like a princess.

"You- I mean- it- you look beautiful," He stammers over his words and his face goes redder by the second but she smiles at him

"Thank you Oli," She smiles up at him and when their eyes meet both of them feel their hearts hammering in their chests.

"You ready?" He questions, she nods, smiling when he grabs her arm in his and they walk together to the hall.

The hall looks like something out of a fairytale. Seeming to glow an ice white, lined with glittering trees and a glance at the ceiling showing a sky full of stars that gleamed in the air.

"You want to dance?" Oliver questions, eyes falling to the already slightly crowded dance floor, the students dancing to the waltz that plays.

"Think you might loose a foot if we try," She admits, glancing at the girls who swirl around the floor effortlessly and feeling a little self conscious she can't do the same.

"It'd be worth it," He grins, pulling her along with him.

"Hey Oli?"

"Yeah?" He questions as they come to the edge of the dance floor

"These heels are really high. Please don't let me fall,"

"I've got you," He assures, smiling when he notices her physically loosen the panic in her eyes dissipating.

It takes them a few stumbles and a couple of toe treads but eventually they pick up the dance. He watches with a grin as she stares at her feet in focus and with time, and a few glasses of the punch Fred and George spiked, she relaxes, feeling at ease in his arms and becoming more comfortable with the slightly confusing dancing.

Oliver whispers commentary about the ball that makes her laugh and he loves the way she talks with such excitement that he can't help but follow along with every word. He's pretty sure in that moment he could die happy and she's almost certain this is the best night of her life.

As the minutes tick into hours they become more and more comfortable with each other, sure there's still an awkward teenagers with crushes layer to the conversation, but they learn they have a lot in common and find it easy to make small talk that they both actually enjoy.

"Do you wanna go get some air?" She questions at around 11, the dancing has changed from formal waltzing to jumping around to the band who'd been hired for the event and they were both hot and a little sticky from the crowd.

He nods in confirmation and smiles to himself when she immediately takes his hand in hers to pull him along behind her, she seems to have no idea he'd follow her to the ends of the earth if she asked.

She takes him to a small moonlit, snow covered, empty courtyard.

"Anyone would think you wanted to get me alone," He teases lightly, she blushes a little but playfully shoves him

"Maybe I did," She shrugs, he grins cockily "Or maybe it was a little crowded in there and I'm a polite date who didn't want to just abandon you," She isn't quite sure where her newfound confidence around Oliver is coming from

"I'm going to go with the first option," He grins, she laughs a little before shivering at the cold December breeze that wraps around them. He's quick to shrug of his black formal jacket, wrapping it around her shoulders and blushing when she leans up to press a kiss to his cheek in thanks.

"You wanna dance?" She questions, he laughs a little at the idea of leaving a ball to go and dance but nods.

Her arms wrap around his neck as his circle her waist, he hums gently and she smiles a she glances up at him. Oliver Wood looks like a god in the moonlight and she thanks her lucky stars that it's her who got to be in that moment with him.

They dance slowly, eventually pulling each other closer. She laughs when he twirls her under his arm and he grins when her hands begin to brush through the ends of his hair.

"Tell me something," She speaks quietly, his arms pulling her even closer.

"What do you wanna know?"

"Anything about you," She decides, he takes a deep breath, figuring now's probably the best moment he'll ever get to tell her this.

"I've had a crush on you since first year,"

"You have?" She sounds shocked and he can't help but laugh at the idea of her not realising he's practically head over heels for her

"I have," He confirms with a grin

"Why'd you never say anything?" She questions. Her heart feels like it's beating a million miles a minute and she's almost certain he can feel it

"You kinda avoided me," he shrugs

"Yeah I did," She laughs

"Why'd you do that?"

"I was scared to make a fool out of myself," She admits

"Yeah I get that," He nods

"You do? You always seem so- I don't know- at ease,"

"Around everyone but you I kinda am," He shrugs, she blushes a little at that. "You wanna know something else?" He questions.

They're still swaying a little but there's not much movement at their feet, instead the entire thing looks like a loving embrace and she figured to an extent it kind of was.

"Sure,"

"All night I've thinking about if I were to try and kiss you. If you'd kiss back or you'd pull away and laugh in my face and I'd have made a fool of myself," His words leave her breathless and his charming grin only makes it better

"There's only one way to know for sure," She whispers.

His lips crash to hers in the moonlit courtyard, the snow falling around them. It's slow and gentle. Holding years of emotion and there's no need to rush, in that moment they both know they have forever to hold each other this close. It's a little toothy from both their wide grins but as his hands cup her cheeks she's sure nothing has ever been as perfect as this moment and the boy she's sharing it with.

MASTERLIST

[quirklessidiot]

Title: wine nights [coward series au]  Pairing: F!Reader x Miya Atsumu Genre: fluff, parents au, slice of life au  Synopsis: in which the older Miya twins and you have a heart to heart talk over wine.

Warnings: brief mentions of trauma

notes;

highly suggest to read the series for more understanding but either ways be my guest and just read it as a standalone if ya want to. also um the taglist has been closed ever since chap 7 was out so im really sorry :( 

happy 415 followers btw uwu. will be releasing my kita angst fic next week to celebrate a new milestone.

read the series here!  [ ss;; one, two, three, four ]

Osamu admits that you and him never saw eye to eye back in college (actually it was mostly him), it only took a worse turn when you left his twin. Now that he knows that the person you loved was actually his twin and that the father was the said person, he takes it back.

Yep, he takes it all back.

After profuse apologies and numerous deadpan responses from you saying that it was alright. You sort-of developed a weird friendship? He’d tell jokes and you’d just give him a blank expression and shake your head as if you were disappointed to be in the same room as him.

You always invited him and Daiki to your home every week on Sunday dinners though, he’s glad to be a part of it. He’s getting to know you a bit more and he’s slowly starting to understand why his brother loves you a lot.

The night is young and Atsumu is in the kids room, putting them to bed while you get ready for wine night. The younger Miya twin sits at the counter and nibbles on the cheese crackers as he watches you dry the dishes, “Has ‘tsumu ever told you how he first met you?” he suddenly asks out loud, curious if you knew how whipped his twin was for you and how much power you held over him.

You turn to the grey-haired twin with a plate on one hand and a dish towel on the other, “I don’t believe he or Shion-san has ever mentioned it.”

He chuckles, of course they wouldn’t. It was usually kept in the dark then and because of your strained relationships towards them when you were in college, they never actually got to tell you the story.

“He saw you one day, earlier in the school year…”

“He did mention that one time.” your forehead creases as you remember a fleeting conversation you had back then.

“Yeah, he kind of fell in love with you at first sight, Y/N.” his twin chuckled, “Sounds crazy right?”

Growing up, Osamu knows that his brother had attitude problems so imagine his shock and surprise when his twin called him up on a random night and started talking about this girl. This girl who barely paid him any attention at all.

Osamu recounts his thoughts then, how cruel fate would be for his twin to fall in love with a girl who paid him no mind when he had many others on his beck and call. He recalls how he’d call his brother a masochist, telling him to stop the fruitless chase towards you because you barely gave a time of day to Atsumu even if it was clear that he was completely and utterly enamored by you. 

Well, it ended happily for the both of you. Stable careers, dreams reached, happy family, and adorable kids. 

Son of a bitch, the old Osamu would be given a run for his money if he saw what had happened to you two now.

“That must’ve been a long time, then.”

“Oh, trust me.” Osamu breathed out, taking a sip of his wine, “It was only the first few months of the school year that time, Y/N. He says he saw you all the time but he could never pluck out the courage to actually go and talk to you.”

“Hm.” You mused, “I always thought that Atsumu had women hanging by his shoulder.”

Osamu chokes at the idea of Atsumu being a player, “Before he met you, it’s always been about volleyball. The idiot would go so far as insult the girls when they’d disrupt practice.”

“Huh,” you blink, “Was I his first girlfriend then?”

“Not exactly.” Osamu drawls, tapping his chin, “‘tsumu would say yes to girls but he never really knew what being a boyfriend was, he never hung out with the girls he said yes so it never really was a relationship. Hence why he’s got a reputation as a player.”

Osamu recounts even one time how annoyed his brother was when one of his ‘girlfriends’  came to their matches and screamed out his name when he did serves.

“She was fucking annoying,” Atsumu grumbles, walking in the middle of his brother’s tale and casting his twin a look, “Although I do wish that Y/N would come to my games. You never did come to any of them back when I was in college.”

“I was trying to graduate early.” you deadpan, placing the last dish on the dish rack to join them on the table.

“You’re forgiven, sweetheart.” He fakes a coo, making you roll your eyes as you pour yourself a glass.

“Atsumu tells me that he’s never smooth around you.”

“He isn’t.” you glazed, “Back in college when I gave him a tuna flavored onigiri as thanks after our meeting at the frat party, he had a nosebleed.”

Osamu chokes on his drink, “What the hell, ‘tsumu?” he barked, howling in laughter at his twin.

Atsumu would never deny the fact that what we had towards you was a school boy crush at first, he’d always be a nervous mess or his brain would cease to function whenever you came by then in college. He couldn’t put two and two together too, when you simply gave him one word replies, he’d be lost immediately. Not knowing what to say, all the charisma and overconfidence he had went down the drain by your curt replies.

What would anyone expect, really?

He’s never had crushes on anyone growing up.

The idea of putting time and effort towards something that wasn’t volleyball disgusted him yet here he was now, completely whipped for you and the brats while putting volleyball on second.

My, my how the tables have turned.

“You were really hard to talk to then, sweetheart.” He murmurs, “For the record, Y/N was the very first girl I asked out and you didn’t exactly make it easy after. I was thinking I was going to fail after those countless rejections.”

“You’re more pushy than Daiki, I’d have to admit. The guy stopped after his third rejection.”

Osamu raises a brow, he knows of your situation, Atsumu has mentioned it in passing but hasn’t gone into full detail about it but he’s curious, Daiki’s been around longer after all, “He’s known you longer than, ‘tsumu. Probably even deeper back then, how come you never ended up with him?”

Atsumu blinks and turns toward you, he’s curious too, Daiki has even openly admitted that he proposed to you seven years ago after knowing about the kids but you rejected him yet again (that was the last and final attempt)

You swirl the wine around, thinking of a proper response, “To be honest, I don’t know.” you answered, pondering as you turn towards Atsumu, “I just- it never felt right.”

Osamu whistles, “Dang, you just love my twin too much too. I take it back, yer both simps for each other, it's sickening.”

Atsumu lets out a childish tongue out in which he is replied by a middle finger from his other half.

You three continue to talk about random things and after deeming himself too sleepy and needing to open shop early tomorrow, Osamu says his goodbyes.

You sat in front of your vanity as you did your nightly routine, brushing and untangling the tangles of your hair after you showered and changed to a comfortable bedroom attire.

Atsumu exits the shower half naked as usual, his hair damp as he ruffles the towel on it, he slowly approaches your side and dips down to kiss your naked shoulder, “Hey Y/N.” his voice is muffled and vibrating through your skin.

You hummed a reply, still brushing your hair.

“Why didn’t you marry Daiki?”

You paused mid-action and raised a brow at his sudden question, turning to him as he suddenly stood up straighter with his hand now replacing his lips, “Are you jealous?”

“Of course not,” he grumbles, he’s been married to you for two years already and everyday’s like a honeymoon phase that doesn’t end, why would he be jealous of that scrub? as if, “I’m just curious. The idiot’s good looking, rich, good with kids, and a full package. A blind man could admit that.”

“You're a full package too.” 

Atsumu narrows his eyes and shakes his head in disappointment, as if he was saying, really?

You chuckle in a low voice, “Because he’s like my psychiatrist, Atsumu.” You simply said, shaking your head as you turn back to the mirror, “Unlike you, Daiki found out about it accidentally and we weren’t on good terms before that when we were kids. He became nicer so you could say that we became friends because he pitied me.”

Atsumu blinks for a moment, taken aback by your explanation. 

“Growing up, the anxiety would eat me up that Daiki’s friendship and feelings all stemmed because he pitied me. You could never build a decent relationship with that, it wouldn’t be healthy.” you continued then you turned to him, “Remember what I said to you then? How I felt when I was with you?”

Atsumu slowly nods.

“You didn’t pry and that was probably the best and worst thing you ever did throughout our relationship in college.” You smiled softly, “I was never ready to tell you then and you didn’t force me at all. You just kept staying and loving me without knowing anything to the point where I took advantage of it.”

“Y/N-” He dryly starts, knowing where this is going.

“I know I shouldn’t apologize but it was toxic, atsumu.” You softly said, laughing, “I’m really sorry.”

“Well you gave your forgiveness in the form of kids and being my wife until I die, I think it turned out pretty well in the end.”

You cast him a glare in which he immediately raises his two hands, “Hey, we both had our downplays in the relationship. We’re not perfect, sweetheart.” he reassures you as he walks up to you and grabs a hold of your hand with a wedding ring on it, “But we try to improve, learn,and be the best for each other and for those two brat- i mean kids. ”

He proceeds to entangle your fingers with his, “I don’t regret it, ya know.”

“Yeah. I know.”

“I don’t regret hanging onto that girl who barely gave me the time of her day then. I don’t regret seeing ya on that random spring day where you give yourself heart palpitations or better yet, I don’t regret everything. I don’t regret any of that. I’d do that shit again if I get to be here now.” He reassures you, he never gets tired to remind you of that as he squeezes your hands.

You cut the serious moment with a laugh, Atsumu is happy these days because of how easy it is for you to be like this around him, “You’re batshit crazy.”

“I was expecting a confession too.” He feigned hurt, “You wound me, sweetheart.”

“You kind of are though.” You stop laughing,wiping the little tears on the side of your eyes, “You’re probably the only person who’d come back after that wretched heartbreak.”

“And you’re the only person who I’d do that to.” Atsumu sticks his tongue out as he tugs you to your shared bed, “Jus’ so ya know, Y/N. You’re impossibly hard to forget. If we never did end up together or if you ended up with Daiki, I think I’d focus on volleyball for the rest of my life.”

“I doubt it.”

Yet Atsumu doesn’t reply and just kisses your lips goodnight as he drags you back to bed, what you didn’t know was that he was telling the truth.

It was just you, the kids, and volleyball (and his brother).

taglist [officially closed, if you guys want to be removed for the side stories, feel free to tell me hehe ilyasm and thank you once again, coward wouldn’t be possible without all you people + other readers]

@fortheloveofiwaizumi​ ;  @svtbitch​  ; @kiyoomile​ ; @lovedanii​​ ; @juno-multifandom​​ ; @gyubit17​​ ; @saeranoppa​​ ; @nixxona​​ ; @kyomihann​​ @shorttstackk​​ ; @intoomuchfandoms​​ ; @yammmers​​ ; @mx-minxx​​ @itsmattsunshinehere​​ ; @missingmystogan​​ ; @volleybloop​​ ; @imcravingyou​​ ; @yams-wants-that-booty ; @liathachcapricious​​ ; @pinknugget​​ @seikamuzu​​ ; @marigoldthoughts​​ ; @sillykittt​​ ; @baejinoffcl​​ ; @alluring-akaashi​​ ; @bnhasstuff​​  ; @intheawks​​ ; @bokuakadaily​​ ; @agaassi​​ ; @yams046​​  ; @dope-squish ; @chrisrue15​​ ; @vermillionwaves​​ ; @demursv1ogs​​ ; @just-snog-already ; @angmarwitch​  ; @simpingonothers​ ; @woo-youngs​ ; @cowward​ ; @chaelysian​ ; @sempiternal-amour​ ; @jungshookmeup​ ; @jovialnoise​ ; @karlitabi-rrito​ ; @iwaizluv​ ; @sugarandsoft​ ; @tspice283​ ; @ohshirabu​ ; @syzygymai​ ; @volleybloop​ ; @oikaw-ugh​ ; @pockytokyo​ ;  @differentballooncollection​ ;  @keniloveshaikyuu​ ; @turquoiselace​ ; @playboygeniusphilanthropist​ ;   @keijislut​ ; @notyourbitchboy​​

@misosamu  @Etherynaw  @ryaaaax @allysasteaparty   @mikaashi  @brownie0food @ph10xy  @Chocolaterumble [hi, i can’t seem to tag u guys, i think you need to open your tags uwu]

[fanmoose12]

Partners

Characters: Petra Ral, Levi, Hanji Zoe x Levi Genre: Action / Mystery / Romance Rating: T

Detective!au

Summary: when Petra was promoted to a detective and partnered up with legendary Levi Ackerman, she felt like the happiest person in the world.

But, as she soon found out, detective Ackerman she used to admire so much was actually a far cry from the ideal policeman Petra thought he was. He was rude, harsh and easily annoyed. And, in addition, he still hadn’t moved on from the death of his previous partner - detective Hange Zoe.

Chapter 9/?

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Сhapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Сhapter 7

Сhapter 8

 "Have you lost your goddamn mind?" Levi paced around Erwin's office, his face dark with fury and his hands clenched into fists. "Erwin, since she won't listen, never listens to me!" he sent a sizzling gaze at Hange. "You tell that idiot that she lost her mind!"

"Levi—"

"Don't fucking Levi me, four-eyes!" he cut her off harshly. "What the fuck is wrong with you? That fucker ruined your life, and now, what, you're defending him?"

"I'm not—"

"I don't understand it! Just a few days ago you wanted to catch him. You were ready to sacrifice your own life to get that bastard. What the fuck had happened since then? Why are you trying to save him?"

"Levi." Hange’s voice was quiet, low. So unlike her usual one, it made shivers run down his spine. Levi knew that voice, Hange reserved almost exclusively for the worst, most despicable criminals and greedy snobs from the brass. She used this voice with him only once. And it was one of the most unpleasant moments of his life.

Hange slowly rose from her seat at the sofa and came to stand in front of Levi, looming over him. In the semi-darkness of Erwin's office, her eye was burning with fury.  

"Shut up and listen. Stop focusing on your desire to avenge Zeke. Believe me, I can't wait to get him behind bars, that's the only thing that got me through these past two years, but can't you see it? Someone's obviously trying to set him up."

"So what?"

"So what?" Hange repeated, disbelief and irritation painting her voice. "Do I really need to spell it out for you? If you let Zeke go to prison for someone else's crime, then the real criminal won't be punished for the death of two civilians. Is that what you want? Have you forgotten about your duty?"

Fuck.

Levi took a step back from Hange, lowering his head and hiding his eyes from her. She was right, of course, she was right. He was too blinded by his hatred to see it.

"Besides," Erwin spoke up, reminding them that he was still there. He was sitting at his desk, hands folded beneath his chin. Levi looked up, staring at him cautiously. When Erwin wore that particular expression – brows furrowed and lips pressed in a line – it always meant bad news. "Zeke is not the only one who's being set up."

"What do you—" 

"I've been thinking about this too," Hange agreed. 

Levi let out a low growl. He hated when these two did it. Kept him in the dark about their genius revelations. 

"So? Fuckling enlighten me then."

"Think, Levi," Erwin said, his frown deepening. "What would have happened if you try to tell anyone that Zeke is the real murderer?"

"I—"

"They'd call you insane," Hange answered for him. Despite her sympathetic tone, her face showed the same graveness as Erwin’s. "For everyone else, Zeke had been dead for two years."

"Yes, but—"

"You could prove that he's alive," Erwin agreed with a small nod. "And that may even work. But if you don't," he shook his head. "They'd kick you out. Sannes has been trying to find the excuse for a long time now."

"What?"

That was news to him. Sure, he knew that he had somewhat tense relationship with Sannes. But to go as far as to try to fire him? What a fucker. 

"He had been complaining about your work for a while," Erwin explained. "I do what I can to protect you, but Sannes got almost every captain on his side. I thought that if I make you agree to accept another partner, he'd stop, but—"

"He didn't," Levi guessed. "What did that asshole do this time?"

"During the brass's meeting this morning, he raised the issue of your discharge once more. I managed to convince a couple of captains—"

Dawk and Pixis, Levi realized. And if he could somewhat understand why Pixis would vouch for him, the man looked like a goof, but always had some hidden motive, what Erwin could have promised to straight-laced, bullheaded Dawk? Levi refused to believe that he agreed to help simply out of the kindness of his heart. 

"But others still push for your dismissal,” Erwin continued, his clenched jaw showing all of his disapproval and annoyance. “This case will be decisive. If you find the killer, you'd keep the job, if you fail—"

"They'd kick me out," Levi realized. Fuck. He didn't want that to happen. He liked his job. A lot. He wouldn't know what to do with his life without it. 

"Now you understand why you can't just go around, claiming Zeke is the killer."

"Because that's what Sannes wants me to do," Levi agreed.

Scheming bastard.  

"Fine," Levi announced. "You won, I agree that turning Zeke in isn't the best course of action. But," he leveled Hange with a fierce glare. "I still don't understand why you would want to tell Zeke about everything."

"We might need his help. Besides," Hange shrugged, her motions easy and careless. "He'll find out anyway. I want it to happen on my terms."

"There is nothing I can say to change your mind, right?"

Hange shrugged again, grinning lopsidedly. 

Levi sighed. "Fuck. Alright, tell me about you plan again."

*** "Are you kidding me?" Oluo took a step back, shaking the hand Petra wrapped around his wrist to drag him here.

She brought him to a hallway at the east wing of a precinct. Old and unused, it was one of the most secluded areas. No one ever walked in here. It wasn't even properly lighted, and Oluo's irritated mien disappeared with each flicker of a pale fluorescent lamp.

"Please, tell me you're kidding."

"I—"

"Are you seriously asking me to spy on deputy police chief? What the fuck, Petra? Is your partner's paranoia contagious?"

"What?" Petra blinked a few times, mimicking the flickering light above them. "Levi is not paranoid."

"Sure," Oluo drew, following it with a short huffed laugh. "Everyone knows he's got a few screws loose."

"No," Petra argued with a confused frown. "You're wrong. You've said it yourself, Levi is a great detective."

"He was a great detective. Until his partner died. His success rate dropped and he became even more secluded than usual. Did you know that there are talks about his discharge?”

No, Petra didn’t know about that. Why didn’t she know about that? Did Levi know?

“I didn't tell you, because I know how much respect you hold for the man. But it's not a secret to anyone that he's obsessed with conspiracy theories. And the fact that you want to spy on freaking Sannes only confirms it. He's lost it and now he's dragging you along with him as well."

"You don't understand—"

"Of course I don't," Oluo said, sarcasm dripping from his every word. "I'm such a fool after all..."

Petra drowned out the rest of his blubbering. She heard something, just a second ago. She closed her eyes, straining her hearing. Oluo's voice was severely distracting, but it seemed like...

Without thinking more about it, Petra acted. She needed to create a diversion, she needed to make their little meeting look less suspicious. So she grabbed the back of Oluo's neck and dragged him down, pressing her lips to his. 

The moment stretched on, as she listened, with her eyes still closed. She was sure she heard someone's steps. But now the hallway was silent, save for the quiet sound of Oluo's moan?

Right, Oluo. Oh god, Oluo.

Petra jumped back from him, mortified and embarrassed. Her cheeks were so red, she felt like her skin was going to catch on fire.

She kissed Oluo. She kissed him on the lips in the dark, deserted hallway. 

Her father didn't raise her like this. 

And, sure, she kissed him just yesterday, but it was a very different kind of kiss. That kiss was innocent, chaste. There was nothing chaste about their second kiss. 

"Sorry!" she squealed, covering her face with hands. Embarrassed, she was so embarrassed. 

"Huh, Petra," Oluo's lips curved into that irritating smirk Petra hated so much. "You've come up with all that nonsense just to get me here and steal a kiss? I'm flattered, really."

"Shut up," Petra whimpered, still hiding behind her hands. "I thought someone was coming and I panicked, and, hey!" She glared between her fingers. "I was being serious! I need your help, Oluo. I know that Levi doesn't have a very good reputation but—"

"He thinks his dead partner is alive," Oluo said in a grave voice. 

"Oh," Petra dropped her arms to the side, looking up at him. "But she is alive."

Oluo's face fell. "Petra..."

"No, no!" she shook her head. "I know how it sounds, but detective Zoe is actually alive, I've seen her with my own two eyes."

The hallway was silent for a long, long moment. Oluo kept staring at her, searching for something on her face.

Then he raised his hand to rub his forehead and let out a long, tired sigh.

"...Oh. Um. Okay, yeah, alright, I believe you,” he didn’t look utterly convinced, but he stopped looking at Petra like she had gone insane, and she counted it as a win. “Maybe, detective Ackerman isn't a complete lunatic after all. But... How is it connected with deputy chief Sannes?"

"He's crooked. He's been working with criminals and I know it. I just need a real, substantial proof."

"Sannes is crooked, oh god,” Oluo closed his eyes. “Another big revelation, alright. Let’s not focus on it right now, or I’ll have a panic attack. Do you know who he’s working with?”

Petra pursed her lips. “I’m not sure yet, Levi doesn’t tell me much, but I think he might be working with Zeke Yeager.”

“Yeager?” Oluo repeated. “I’ve heard this name.”

“Yeah, Zeke Yeager, he was a notorious criminal back—”

“No,” Oluo shook his head. “Not Zeke. I’ve heard the name Yeager before. Read it in one of the reports, I just can’t remember what the case was about. Maybe, it’s a just a coincidence, but it was about Grisha Yeager. The name was so strange, that’s why it stuck with me.”

“Hm,” Petra frowned, tapping her chin. “Grisha Yeager… No, I don’t know that name.”

“Doesn’t matter then,” Oluo shrugged. “Better tell me - how you're intending to get your proof?"

"I don't know," Petra hanged her head, fidgeting with a sleeve of her blouse. "I've thought about following Sannes home…"

"What?"

"But later I realized that it won't produce any results, because I doubt he has frequent meetings with his allies. Then I thought that getting inside his computer might be a good idea—"

"What?"

"But then again, there's no guarantee that he keeps important data there. And it would be pretty hard to get past his password. I wasn't able to guess Levi's password after all. But!" Petra looked up, a smile present on her face. Oluo didn't like that smile. It wasn't Petra's usual warm and pretty one. This one had a weird, almost feral edge to it. "I've come up with another plan, and that's why I need your help!"

"What do you need me for?" Oluo asked slowly, eyeing her carefully. He was almost afraid to hear the answer. 

"You have keys from a depository, right?"

"Right..."

"And you're friends with Dita, the janitor, yeah?"

"Yep..."

"So!" she clasped her hands, looking unusually delighted for a person who was in a middle of plotting a very dangerous and definitely illegal scheme. "I need you to go into repository and took a wire from there, and then I need you to go to Dita and—"

"And ask him to give me keys from Sannes' office?" Oluo guessed. "We'll be discovered in no time, Petra. Dita and I aren't that close of friends."

"I know," Petra rolled her eyes. "That's why you'll steal them!"

"Petra!" he exclaimed with a scandalized expression. 

"Shh," she smiled, putting a hand on his shoulder. "It'll be fine, I promise. You'll get a wire and a key, we'll get inside Sannes' office and plant the wire. I'll be able to listen in to his conversations, and no one will suspect a thing. Oluo, please?"

It was a stupid and extremely daring plan. If it failed, they'd be kicked out of force immediately. In the best case scenario. In the worst - they'd go to jail for breaking and entering the policeman's office. 

But Petra's smile was really nice, her hand on his shoulder was so warm, and she looked right at him, batting her long and pretty eyelashes. 

He was never a man with strong will. Oluo’s resolve crumbled. 

"Fine," he sighed, refusing to even think about possible consequences. "But you owe me, Petra. This whole scheme is worth two dates. Minimum!" he finished, raising a finger. 

"If we manage to succeed, we'll go on as much dates as you want."

"And kisses? Will you give me more kisses?"

"Of course," Petra murmured, leaning in to give Oluo exactly what he wanted.

***

"Call me when you finish with this, erm, meeting of yours," Erwin said, when Hange and Levi were ready to leave the office.

“Will do, captain!” Hange saluted, giggling.

Listening to the sound of her laughter and staring at Erwin’s smiling face, warmth spread through Levi’s chest as he was hit with a wave of nostalgia. Just a day ago, he would have never thought that he’d get to experience this. His two best friends, laughing together, as if nothing had changed. As if these two years, filled with grief and misery, had never happened.

The warm and familiar atmosphere enchanted Levi. The corners of his lips slowly lifted into a smile.

“Come on, four-eyes,” he turned to the door, hiding his joyous expression. His soft voice treacherously betrayed his feelings anyway.

"Wait!" Hange called the moment they left Erwin's office.

The hallway around them was dark, deserted. It was almost ten pm, so it wasn't a surprise that the precinct was so quiet.

Leaning against the wall, Hange took off her backpack and started rummaging through it. "Wait, wait, wait, I've got something for you. Here!" she announced with a proud grin, presenting Levi with his own coat.

Levi hesitantly accepted it, arching an eyebrow. "How did you manage to fold it so neatly?"

"It's one of my secret powers, of course!" Hange fixed her glasses with a cheeky grin.

"Hm," he narrowed his eyes. "Did you take it to the laundry?"

"Um, no," Hange answered, rubbing her neck sheepishly. "Didn't have the time to do that."

Good, Levi almost said. He wanted Hange's scent to linger, he hoped it did.

He carefully unfolded and put the coat on, lifting the collar. It was faint, but Hange's scent was present. He pushed his hands inside the pockets, feeling strangely content.

Still, something gnawed at him.

"Hey," he glanced up. He tilted his head to the side, giving Hange's dark green blazer a critical look. "Is that shitty jacket of yours warm enough?"

A soft, gentle smile bloomed on Hange's lips. Just the sight of it made Levi's breath catch in his throat. His recently discovered feelings made themselves known again. Goddamn it, she was beautiful. How he had never seen it before? He was a fool.

"I'll be alright, shorty, don't you worry. Your concern is touching, though."

Levi forcefully tore his eyes away from her face and tsked, trying to fill the sound with as much annoyance as possible. Hange's smile didn't even falter, and it meant that he wasn’t too successful in hiding his true feelings. That, or Hange just knew him all too well. It was probably both.

"Just don't want you catching pneumonia or some other shit after you just got back from the dead." He grunted, dead set on keeping his aloof demeanor.

"Touching," Hange repeated in a singing voice.

"Shut up," he groaned, fighting a smile that threatened to appear on his face.

He shook his head and headed to the elevators.

"Hey," Hange touched his sleeve. "Can we take the stairs instead?"

"Are you restless?" Levi asked, as he turned around, leading Hange to the stairs just like she requested.

"A little," she chuckled awkwardly. "Not exactly afraid, but, um, nervous. And excited. I can't wait to see Zeke's face when I tell him the truth."

As that image entered his mind, Levi let out a soft chuckle as well.

"Thanks for bringing me with you then. I'd like to see it too."

They couldn't get Zeke in jail right now, and as much as that knowledge pained Levi, there were other ways to make his life a living hell. He couldn’t wait to exploit some of them.

"Wait," Hange suddenly raised her arm, stopping him. Her face became sharp, focused, as her gaze was trained at the dark hallway in front of them.

"Hange?"

"There is someone there," she whispered, taking one cautious step forward. Instinctively, Levi mimicked her soft stride. "I heard some muttering."

"Sannes' office is that way," Levi whispered back. "You think it's him?"

"Only one way to find out," Hange said with a rueful grin.

Before she could take another step, Levi wrapped his fingers around her wrist.

"You shouldn't go in here,” he said, his voice urgent. “Let me handle it. We can't let Sannes know you're alive."

"I disagree. The cat is almost out of the bag as it is. Let him know who he's up against."

"You're too reckless," Levi scolded with a shake of his head. He didn't try to stop her though.

They went ahead, each move slow and deliberate. The muttering became louder and when Levi and Hange turned the corner, they saw two figures, standing next to the door to Sannes' office. Levi narrowed his eyes with a frown.

One short figure seemed strangely familiar.

He cursed under his breath.

"Petra!" he shouted.

The woman whirled around, pressing hands to her chest with a shocked gasp.

"Levi!"

Levi strode closer, his scowl deep and dark.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" he hissed.

"I wanted to know more about Sannes' intentions, so... We broke inside his office and planted a wire there."

Levi cursed again, more creatively this time. Beside him, Hange started laughing.

"It’s not fucking funny, four-eyes," he glowered, not taking his eyes from the young woman in front of him.

Petra stood with her head bowed and her eyes cast down. Her fingers were playing with the ends of her skirt. She looked like an abashed student who was scolded by her teacher. That thought chased away some of his anger.

Levi let out a tired sigh.

"Take it easy on her, shorty," Hange leaned over to murmur in his ear.

"I'm trying," Levi answered in the same quiet voice.

"Are you finished already?" he asked Petra. He decided to follow Hange's advice and make his tone a bit softer.

"Yes," Petra nodded, still avoiding his gaze. "We planted the wire inside his chair."

"Huh," Levi blinked. It was a pretty creative hiding spot. "Not bad."

"Good job!" Hange congratulated, raising her thumbs. "You did great!"

"Oh, detective Hange, you're here too..." Petra mumbled, finally lifting her eyes.

"Detective Hange?" the man behind Petra gulped. “So you’re actually—”

“The reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated,” Hange snickered.

Levi rolled his eyes at her silliness and then took a step closer to the man, looking at him intently.

"Bozado?" he asked. "And what are you doing here?"

"You know my name, sir?" Oluo's looked up, his eyes bright with hope.

"It's written on your badge," Levi pointed at his breast pocket with a bored expression. "And you didn't answer my question."

"I— I was helping, Petra, sir," Oluo said, scratching the back of his head. "I got the keys to the office and took the wire from the repository."

Levi bored his eyes into the man. Oluo swallowed, squirming under his heavy gaze.

"And why did you decide to help?"

"Levi!" Hange pocked him in the side. "Don't be so insensitive. It's obvious he has feelings for her."

"How is that obvious?" Levi argued, turning to Hange. "And who is being insensitive now, four-eyes? You brought up the subject of his feelings!"

"I was just trying to save the poor man from your fearsome glare," Hange huffed. "And unlike you, I actually know what feelings are."

"Just what are you trying to—"

"Levi?" Petra interrupted softly. "Can we— can we go? It's late already."

Levi looked at Petra, his eyes widening. He almost forgot they were still here.

"Did you take care of everything? Did you make sure that you won't get caught?"

"Yes, sir!" Oluo answered, straightening out and doing a quick salute. Levi scoffed at the gesture. "I'll return the keys to Dita next morning and since I'm in charge of checking the repository, no one will know that something is missing."

"Okay," Levi nodded, his scowl almost disappearing. They really did a good job. He was proud of Petra. And he couldn’t wait to hear what kind of results this scheme would achieve.  "Then you can go. We should go too, Hange.”

"You're right, we should hurry," she agreed. "Goodbye, guys!" she waved at Petra and Oluo and then took Levi by the sleeve of his coat, dragging him away.

*** "What the hell just happened?" Oluo asked, when Levi and Hange left.

"Detectives Ackerman and Zoe happened," Petra replied, feeling just as confused and bewildered as Oluo.

"The legendary duo, huh?" Oluo scoffed, thrusting hands into the pockets of his pants. "They definitely have some issues they need to work on."

"Yes..." Petra agreed, remembering the expression Levi made when Hange said he had no feelings. Her statement confused him, it was obvious, but Petra could swear she could see a flash of pain in his eyes. There was an apparent tension between two partners. She shouldn't pock her nose into it, though. She learned her lesson already.

"I'm so tired," she yawned, feeling her eyelids grow heavy. It was a stressful day, and, now, as the adrenaline rush was over, she was left utterly exhausted. Petra looped her arm with Oluo's, leaning slightly onto him. "Let me buy you a dinner and then let's call it a day."

"Forget the dinner. Maybe, I should just take you home?"

"No," Petra protested, brushing her nose against Oluo's shoulder. "I want to thank you first. You really helped me out today, Oluo. You're the best."

"I think your exhaustion makes you exaggerate," Oluo snorted. With a soft expression, he lifted a hand to brush a lock of hair from her face. "But I'll take the compliment. Come on, let's leave this place already."

Petra silently nodded in agreement, letting Oluo lead her outside.

***

"Tell me again," Levi asked, as he parked the car near their meeting place with Zeke. "Why did you choose this place?"

"It's public, for starters, and I hope that would be enough to quell Zeke's murderous intents. And it's pretty inconspicuous."

Levi narrowed his eyes. He didn't like the carelessness in Hange's voice at all. Inconspicuous? What the hell did that mean?

"What the fuck did you tell him, four-eyes?"

Hange shrugged, getting out of the car. "I told him it's a date."

Levi, who was in the middle of closing the car’s door, stopped. He froze, then blinked a few times. He stared at Hange intently trying to see if she was joking.

She wasn't.

"What the fuck?" he whispered, completely shell-shocked.              

"Hey! Don't look so scandalized!"              

As he continued to further contemplate this whole thing, his eye began to twitch. He forcefully shut the door closed.

"Are you actually serious?"

"Um," Hange deflated slightly. "Yes, I am. I just thought it would make him less suspicious. And, well, convince him to come alone."

"So," Levi croaked, finding his throat weirdly inoperative. "Did you and Zeke—"

"Levi." Gone was the easiness of Hange's tone. As she stared Levi down with hands on her hips, her voice was rough. And displeased. She usually used it on him whenever she thought he was being extremely irrational and she was done with him, pestering her about such illogical requests like eating her lunch, sleeping for more than two hours a day and washing her hair at least once in a week. "Are you seriously asking if me and Zeke - the jerk who had ruined my entire life - had hooked up?"

Well, now that Hange had put it like this, he did feel kinda stupid. And more than a little embarrassed.

Fuck. He really was an insensitive jerk.

"Sorry for bringing this up," he grumbled, pushing past Hange and continuing to walk down the street.

"Oi, Levi, wait!" grabbing his sleeve, she quickly caught up with him. She fell into step with him, and for a moment, she was silent.

Their conversation was far from being over and Levi knew it. He didn't have to raise his head to see the pleased smirk on her face. Smugness was practically radiating from her.

"So did I just witness the jealousy of great Levi Ackerman?"

His cheeks burned. Levi kept looking straight ahead. He wouldn't give her the satisfaction of seeing his discomfiture.

"No."

Hange chuckled. "Just so you know, Zeke isn't my type."

"Cool. I don't care."

"Do you want to know what my type is?"

"No." Yes. "Can we have this conversation some other time?"

"Sure." A pause. "So you are interested what my type is."

Levi groaned.

"Oh, we're here!" Hange said flippantly, like she wasn't mercifully making fun of him just moments ago. "Are you ready, shorty?"

"Yes," he answered, putting their previous conversation to the back of his mind. He fixed his hair and clenched his jaw. "Let's do this, four-eyes."

"Alright," Hange stopped to take a deep breath. She looked more than a little uneasy and, acting on a sheer impulse, Levi took her hand in his, giving it a firm squeeze.

"I'm with you," he reassured. "I've got your back, Hange."

She smiled, relaxing ever so slightly.  "Thank you. There's no one else I could have done it with. Well," Hange tapped her chin with a finger. "I could do it with Erwin too, but—" her smile turned into a playful grin. "His face isn't quite as scary as yours."

Levi rolled his eyes, glad that Hange was back to her insufferable self.

He pushed the door open, still holding Hange's hand in his.

The café, when they entered it, was mostly empty. There were only two people inside - a girl and a boy probably in their early twenties. They were lounging side by side in the corner of the café, but when Levi and Hange appeared, one of them – a blonde boy with big blue eyes - jumped to his feet and hurried to approach them. The girl with the hair as dark as her expression followed, hovering over boy's shoulder.

"Welcome to Dorothy's corner!" the boy squealed with a nervous smile. "What would you like to order?"

"You didn't give them the menu, Armin," the girl reminded softly, nudging him in the back.

"Oh, right! I'll bring it immediately, just—"

"Relax," Hange advised softly. Her words, coupled with that sweet smile worked like a charm. The boy chuckled sheepishly, scratching his neck with an apologetic expression.

"Sorry, I'm kinda new here."

"New?" Levi repeated. "And for how long have you been working here?"

"Almost a month, sir. Why are you asking?"

"Simple curiosity," he murmured. So it was just a coincidence. The boy wasn't a replacement for the dead waitress.

"And you?" he nodded at the gloomy girl. "Are you working here too?"

"No," the boy smiled, affection lightening his features. "Mikasa just worries too much about me. There was a murder recently and, well, she’s here to look over me."

"Oh, she's a good friend,” Hange praised. “We're actually here to meet our friends too. There they are, by the way!" she pointed her finger at the booth near the window.

Levi followed it, and, now he could see Zeke's blonde head sticking out too. And from looks of it, he wasn’t alone. The rage started boiling inside of him just at the sight of that bastard. Hange squeezed his hand again, offering his silent support.

"Can you bring a cup of green tea for me?" Levi asked, turning to the boy.

"S-sure!"

"And a black coffee with three sugars for that weirdo," he added.

"Still remember my order?" Hange wondered, as they walked towards the booth where Zeke was sitting.

"Focus, four-eyes," he scolded sternly, before coming to a stop in front of the needed table.

With a toothy grin, Hange slide in the booth, taking a seat opposite from Zeke. Levi sat down at her side.

When he saw them, Zeke's eyes widened and his mouth hanged open in silent surprise. That expression was gone way too quickly, however, not giving Levi enough time to savor it.

Zeke clenched his jaw, his eyes narrowed and his face sharpened as he glared at Hange.

"You have the gull, Zoe," he sneered. "You fuck—"

"Oi." Levi interrupted. His voice was quiet, but filled with so much fury and hatred. Zeke visibly shuddered. "If I hear another shitty word about Hange from your dirty mouth, you'll be missing some teeth, you asshole."

"Um." Someone above Levi cleared his throat. He looked up, meeting the scared gaze of the waiter. "Y-your order," he said, his eyes darting nervously between Levi and Zeke.

"Thank you," Hange smiled.

"We'll call if we need refreshments." Levi grunted with a nod.

"Charming as always, detective Ackerman," Zeke scoffed, when the boy left. He pushed the glasses up his nose, and Levi noted with no small amount of amusement that his fingers were slightly trembling.

Zeke turned to Hange. "I thought you wanted to meet me alone."

"I told you to come alone," Hange corrected. "You didn't though."

"I thought you'd like to have a double date," Zeke smirked. The arrogant expression disappeared the second he met Levi’s dark eyes.

"Oh, right!" Hange slapped her forehead. "Where are my manners! Levi, this is Porco and Pieck," she gestured to a man and woman, who sat at the either side of Zeke. The man - Porco - gave Levi a small nod. Pieck waved at him with a grin, tilting her head and staring at him curiously.

"And this is Levi," Hange said. "My partner."

"Partner?" Pieck raised an eyebrow. The grin on her face grew broader.

"I meant, colleague," Hange clarified, clearing her throat.

"I'm curious," Zeke said, not taking his eyes off Hange. "What are you trying to achieve with this stunt? It’s true I can’t do anything to you right now, but what do you think is going to happen afterwards, Hange? Do you think I'd let you go? Do you think your boyfriend,” he looked pointedly at Levi. Levi stared right back, his face blank. “Can protect you? You were too valuable to me, you know too much,” Zeke shook his head, his voice disappointed. “I thought you were smarter than this."

"What makes you think I need protection?" Hange leaned over with a smile that looked just a little bit feral. "Maybe, I've already told everything to the police."

Zeke returned her smile, lifting his hands. "Then where are my handcuffs, detective?"

"If you wanted to imprison me, I'd already be behind bars," he continued, remarkably relaxed. "No, you want something from me, Hange. But for the life of me, I can't understand what exactly."

"Like you said, Zeke," Hange's eye glinted wickedly. "I know too much."

"Wh—"

"Levi has brought you something. I'm sure it'd be quite a thrilling read."

Following the cue, Levi took the file out of his pocket and threw it on the table.

Reluctantly, his eyes shifting from Hange to Levi, Zeke opened it. A confused crease appeared between his eyebrows, as he looked at the first page. Nevertheless, he fixed his glasses and started reading. His two companions joined him, leaning over his shoulder.

It was quiet for a long moment, and Levi used this time to drink his tea. It was good, he was quite impressed.

"Is tea here still up to your standards?" Hange asked in a whisper.

"Mm," he nodded. "Definitely not as shitty as the tea you used to make, four-eyes."

"As shitty as it was, you still drank it."

Yeah, he did. Actually, Levi kinda missed that awful, bitter taste. Maybe, once it was all over, he could ask Hange to brew him tea again. Just like in the old times.

"It's the case you told me about," Pieck concluded, when she finished reading the file.

"Yes," Hange nodded.

Levi tilted his head, looking at that Pieck curiously. Hange trusted her. Why?

"I hope you don't think that I did it," Zeke scoffed. "I was out of country. I couldn't kill these women."

"I know," Hange agreed.

"Believe me, if I had even the slightest doubt that you did it, we wouldn't be sitting there, chatting," Levi added menacingly.

"What do you want then?" Porco spoke up, glancing between Hange and Levi.

"Cooperation." Hange answered. "Whoever committed these murders is close to you, Zeke."

"Or tries to get rid of you." Levi said.

"And why do you care?" Zeke asked. "Why would you decide to help? After everything I've done to you, don't you want to take your revenge?"

"You can't even imagine how much I want this," Hange told him fiercely. She moved her face closer to Zeke, putting her elbows on the table. A wide, crazy grin spread on her lips, and Zeke recoiled as though in fear.

Levi relaxed in his seat, watching their interaction closely. Seeing the panic reflect in Zeke's eyes put a satisfied smirk on his face.

“And I promise you, Zeke," Hange continued. "I will get my revenge and I will make you pay for everything you put me through. But," she chuckled, easing her expression into her usual friendly mien. "As it is now, a criminal, who killed two women, is on the loose. And I consider it my duty to catch them. My retribution can wait for a while."

"Do you have any suspects?" Pieck asked, making Hange look at her and giving Zeke a much needed moment of respite. Levi continued to watch him, though, enjoying the slight fear that painted his features. The sight was all the more pleasurable for Levi, because Hange was the one who made the bastard feel this way.

"Zeke is not the only one who's being targeted. Someone tries to harm Levi too." Hange replied. "I'm pretty sure that Sannes is on it."

"Sannes?" Porco frowned. "Isn't he one of yours?"

"We all know that he's one of yours," Levi's face twisted in grimace.

"Why would Sannes go against me?” Zeke wondered. “We've been working together for years."

"Maybe, someone tries to take your place," Pieck speculated. "If that's the case, Sannes could agree to betray you. He's not loyal to you, but to your influence after all."

"Sannes can't be the only one, though," Hange went on. "His main goal is to get rid of Levi, and he could have come up with something less complicated to achieve it. So," Hange kicked Zeke's leg under the table. "Spill it out, Zeke. Who hates you so much?"

Zeke scowled, irritated by her cheerfulness. He opened his mouth, and Levi was sure that nothing nice or useful was going to come out of it. He kicked him under the table too. His kick was much stronger than Hange’s. Zeke yelped, bending down to rub his leg. Levi almost smiled.

"I think Floch is the betrayer."

"What?" Zeke snorted. "Floch is the one who had come up with that plan? Don't make me laugh, Hange."

"I didn't say that he was the one who had come up with it," Hange argued. "I said that it’s possible that he had betrayed you."

"So you think Sannes and Floch are the one to blame?" Porco clarified.

"No," Hange shook her head. She tapped her fingers on the table, biting her lip. "I think... There is a third party involved. Floch would never act on his own volition. But he's easily influenced and if he encountered someone charismatic enough, he wouldn’t think twice about betraying you. But why would they need such an elaborate plan?" Hange wondered. "If they wanted to take control of your gang—"

"Criminal organ—"

"Shut up!" she barked, glaring at Zeke. "You're making it hard to think. Where was I?"

"If someone wanted to take Zeke's power, why not simply kill him?" Pieck said.

"Exactly!" Hange snapped her fingers with a grateful smile. "Whoever is against you, Zeke, doesn't want to simply kill you. They're trying to put in prison. We don't know who that is and I'm pretty sure you don't know it either. I don't think it's someone from your gang, Floch doesn't respect anyone but you. So that leaves with one possible explanation - it's someone from outside. Maybe, a partner you've fucked over."

"Does anyone come to your mind, boss?" Porco asked.

"There is someone," Zeke mumbled, his eyes cast down. "But he already took his revenge on me." 

"Hm," Hange scratched her chin. "That complicates it."

"If someone wants to get rid of Zeke," Pieck spoke up. "Then how is your partner involved in this?"

"Through Sannes." Levi replied. "Sannes wanted to get rid of me. He couldn't find a reason to fire me, so he decided to exploit my only weakness."

"Your weakness?" Hange repeated, confused.

Levi sighed. "You, Hange. Everyone at the precinct knows that I..." he cleared his throat, shifting his eyes to the side. "That your death hit me hard. And Sannes decided to use that. He wanted me to stop thinking rationally, wanted to me to lose my cool. He almost succeeded." He added softly. 

Under the table, Hange took his hand and gave it a squeeze. Levi looked up, meeting her gaze. It was full of sympathy, regret and something else. Something unreadable, something fierce. Something that made it hard to look away. 

"Could you please stop this?" Zeke groaned. "I believe we were in a middle of a serious discussion."

Hange was the first to look away. She continued to hold his hand, however. Feeling bold, Levi intertwined their fingers. 

"You were saying?" Zeke prompted with a roll of his eyes.

"Um, yes, right," Hange nodded. "There a lot we don't know about our enemies, but I theorize that something like that happened: someone - a past ally, or, maybe one of your victims - approached Floch. They convinced him to betray you and probably shared with Floch their desire to take you out of the picture without murdering you. We don't know their motivations and why they couldn't just kill you, since whoever they are," Hange's face twisted in disgust. "They are more than okay with murdering innocents. Floch then goes to Sannes, and Sannes decides to join on the plan. They devise some sort of a gamble – either Zeke goes to prison or Levi gets fired."

"Sounds far-fetched," Zeke scoffed. 

"Maybe," Hange shrugged. "There is a lot we still don't know. Would you help us, though?"

Zeke sighed, covering his eyes with a hand. "I don't really have a choice, do I?"

"Nope!" Hange clasped her hands with a wide grin. 

"Don't forget that this alliance is temporary," Levi added.

"I would rather die than continue it for a second longer than absolutely necessary." Zeke snarled. 

"Good," Levi retorted. "Then die."

"What Levi wanted to say," Hange corrected with a chuckle. "Is that we're hoping for a fruitful cooperation. But for now, we should go our separate ways. I'll contact you if we discover something."

"We'll do the same," Pieck smiled, ushering Porco and Zeke to get up from their seats. "Enjoy your evening," she added before the three of them left.

The moment the door of the café closed behind them, Hange exhaled in relief. Levi sighed too, slumping in his seat.

"Pieck is nice, isn't she?" Hange asked softly. 

"Are you two... friends?"

"Sort of," she replied. "Is that a problem?"

"No," Levi assured. "It's just, well, a bit weird."

"She helped me," Hange confessed. "When Zeke—" she made a vague gesture with her hands, pointing to her lost eye. "You know."

"We'll make him pay," he promised. 

"I know," Hange leaned against his shoulder, yawning. "Can I stay at your place tonight?"

"Of course," he murmured. "Grim would love to see you. I don't have anything to eat at home, though. Want to order something here?"

Hange looked up at him, blinking sleepily. "You'll make me have dinner no matter what I say, right?"

He lightly flicked her nose. "What's the point of asking if you already know the answer?"

"You don't change," she whispered fondly. "It's good to be back, Levi."

It's good to have you back, he thought, admiring her peaceful expression. ***

One foot in front of the other, Petra slowly made her way up stairs to her apartment. She was exhausted, tired to the bone and the only thing she craved was to get into her cozy and warm apartment and then fall face-first into her soft and comfy bed. 

But as her luck would have it, the elevators were broken and now she had to climb all the fifteen flight of stairs that lead to her apartment.

 Heaving a sigh, she looked up. She was already on thirteenth floor. 

Just two more, she thought grimly. Petra grabbed the railing tightly and pushed herself upwards. 

Finally, when she was almost at the brim of exhaustion, Petra climbed up to the needed floor. She breathed out in relief and her lips curved into a small, satisfied smile. 

She was almost home, the only thing she needed to do was to walk up to her front door, unlock it, took off her coat and shoes and change into pajamas. Then, she could get some rest at last. After that insane day, she more than deserved it. 

As she neared the door to her apartment, Petra caught a weird scent, hanging in the air. She stopped for a second, sniffing. It was a strong, bitter and unpleasant. The scent of a cigarette smoke, Petra realized. She had never smelled it there before. As far as she knew, her neighbors didn't smoke. Then where the scent had come from?

A bit wary and alert, she continued her way. She was tired, maybe, she just imagined the smell. Or, maybe, one of her neighbors started smoking. It wasn't a big deal. Definitely wasn't illegal. 

With a reprimanding shake of her head, Petra willed herself to relax. She took out her keys and approached the door. She touched the door handle.

And the panic nearly overwhelmed her. 

Her front door. It wasn’t locked.

Staring at it in confusion, Petra searched her mind, trying to remember if she had forgotten to close the door when leaving in the morning. She always locked it. Could it be that she had forgotten about it today?

She was a creature of habit, she always made sure to turn off the lights and lock the front door before leaving the apartment. On the other hand, however, a lot happened this week. She wasn't sleeping enough. She wasn't getting enough rest. She was constantly in the state of worry and anxiety. Locking her front door was at the very bottom of her list of priorities. She could very easily forget about it. 

Right?

She was probably just getting too paranoid. It was probably caused by exhaustion and emotional distress. She was worrying over nothing. 

Petra took a deep breath. She was worrying over nothing. She kept repeating this phrase like a mantra in her head. She slowly pushed the door open.

The apartment behind it was silent. And dark. 

Petra exhaled in relief.

She chuckled softly, scolding herself for being a scaredy-cat. She closed the door - making sure she locked it this time - and took off her coat and shoes. She draped the coat on the clothes rack and then entered her bedroom. She touched the switch, turning on the light. She blinked a few times, adjusting to the sudden brightness. She swept her eyes across the room—

And then gasped, the fear gripping every part of her body. 

There was a man sitting in her armchair near the window. The same man that she saw in the precinct today - the one with eerie smile. 

That same unnerving smile was spread on his lips once again. 

"Detective Ral," he murmured softly, rising to his feet. "Did you and your partner receive my note?"

[janeofcakes]

Soulmates: How John Met Sherlock...Again  Chapter 7

Happy Friday, my friends! I'm so sorry for making you all wait so long. It has been a busy week with lots of travel and time with the kids. Parts of me are SO sunburned. Haha! I hope all of you are having as much fun.

This chapter is shorter than some of the others, but it's a good one and I think you'll agree that it moves things in a positive direction. Let me know what you think at the end!

---

The fresh produce aisle at Tesco is far too busy for three o’clock on a Thursday afternoon. John Watson inches his way in between two older women to grab some apples with a minimum of dirty looks. Once he extracts himself again, he glances down the way and debates on how he’s going to get his hands on some oranges. After a moment of seriously considering bananas instead, a hole clears out in front of the display and he hurries to it. John just slips in before a woman speaking loudly on her mobile can take the spot and she glares at him all the while until John has his bag of oranges. He knows her type - can’t be bothered to wait for anyone else or show any consideration - so he makes sure to take his time and gives her a false friendly grin as he turns to walk away.

John heads to dairy and the refrigerated sections for milk, cheese, yogurt and eggs. He takes a jaunt through frozen foods and catches the bread before starting down the coffee and tea aisle. Plucking two of his favorite kinds of tea off the shelf, he makes his way to the coffee. How he and Gracie managed to run out of so many things at once, he has no idea.

The coffee section is as ridiculously full as fruit and veg was, so John waits off to the side a minute or two until it clears out. His eyes are scanning the shelves for his brand when the corner of a basket pokes him in the side. When he turns his head, he is greeted by the face of the loud woman from before. John can’t stop the frown on his face and she must remember him too because she gives him a sour expression before turning her back on him. John turns back to the coffee and tries to tune out her noisy complaints to the poor bastard on the line.

John just has the coffee he wants in his hand when a basket shoves up against his back again. The woman’s shrill voice still in his ear, John rounds on her with every intention of putting her in her place. He has dealt with more than his fair share of pompous idiots over the years and will not put up with it in bloody Tesco.

“Do you mind?” John demands, every inch of him exuding Captain Watson, but he stops before saying anything more. The rude woman is a good six feet away and heading up the aisle, nearly shouting into her mobile. It couldn’t have been she who bumped into him. To John’s surprise, directly in front of him and holding the offending basket is Greg Lestrade. John blinks once, a movement mirrored on Greg’s face as they stare with slackened jaws.

“John? John Watson?” a grin blooms on Greg’s face in an instant. He moves his basket aside and offers his hand, which John shakes without hesitation. “Fancy meeting you here.”

“Hello, Greg,” John greets warmly. “It’s good to see you. It’s been a long time.”

“It’s been bloody years,” Greg exclaims as he shifts right to let a shopper pass by. “How have you been?”

“Well, bit of a rough start, but good. Very good,” John tells him, angling left for a passerby.

“Glad to hear it,” Greg remarks with a nod.

“What about you?” John asks before Greg has the chance to continue. “I heard you got a promotion, Chief Detective Inspector.”

“I did at that,” Greg laughs good-naturedly. “I don’t get out into the field quite as much. Paperwork’s a bitch, but it gives me time to take a day off for shopping. It’s good for my DIs to muddle through on their own every once in a while.”

Greg pauses a moment to let a woman with a pram pass and John mirrors his motions. The aisle seems twice as full as when John set foot in it.

“And you?” Greg asks when they have a bit of room again. “You’re back for good?”

“I am,” John puffs up his chest, genuinely pleased. He had wanted to move back to London as soon as Mary left. “Sort of inherited a practice from an old friend, so here we are. My little girl and I. Gracie. She’s eight now.”

“Fantastic. You’ve settled in and all? Been here a little while then?” 

Before John can answer Greg, an irritable man pushes past them and they both find themselves a little off balance and cursing.

“Bloody hell,” John says loudly as the bloke hurries on. When he turns back to Greg, the CDI is holding his basket in the space between them to allow more room for people to pass.

“Look, you’re almost finished, yeah?” Greg begins and John nods once. “So am I. No perishables and you can run yours home. We’ll meet for coffee in an hour. D’you know the Division Cafe?”

“I do,” John replies, relieved for the good fortune of Greg’s picking a place he is familiar with. “Sounds great. I’d like to catch up, but what the hell are you going to do for an hour while I drop this lot?”

“Take a leisurely walk to the cafe,” Greg chuckles as they start for the front of the store to cash out. “It’ll give me a chance to check in on the office.”

“Oh no, don’t do that,” John jokes. “No need to spoil your day off. I don’t want to be responsible for that. How will I sleep tonight?”

“All right then,” Greg tells him wryly. “I’ll just tag along with you. We’ll have plenty of time to get back up to speed before we even get there.”

“If you insist,” John is delighted by the suggestion. He has truly missed the CDI over the last ten years and often considered phoning to talk, but never did follow through. Now with Greg in front of him and plenty of time on his hands since Candace is scheduled to watch Gracie after school, he is loath to refuse his friend anything.

“I do insist,” Greg laughs as he places items on the conveyor belt for checkout, “and I’m buying.”

John grins and shrugs.

“Who am I to refuse?”

The next hour passes quickly as they catch a cab to John’s flat and make their way to the cafe. Not a moment is spent in silence. John tells Greg all about Gracie and their flat in Bath. He touches on Mary and Rosie, but quickly jumps ahead to the move back to London. For his part, Greg fills John in on his biggest cases over the years with an emphasis on those that brought about his promotion. By the time they reach Division and sit down with coffees, Greg has just gotten to the cohabitant Sherlock had mentioned in the park. John has the sneaking suspicion that Greg wanted to wait until he was sitting down before mentioning it, so it should be pretty good.

“I heard you were with someone,” John sips from his mug. “Anyone I know from the old days?”

“Uh, yeah,” Greg answers, running his hand up the back of his own neck and wearing a sheepish smile. “Mycroft Holmes.”

“What?” John’s eyes are wide. His lips remain parted in disbelief as the right corner of his mouth quirks up in a half smirk. Greg shrugs in affirmation. “Now that I did not expect.”

“Five years now. Actually,” Greg hesitates and John can tell he is trying to contain a really brilliant smile, “I asked him to marry me only last Sunday.”

“Oh my god. Congratulations,” John declares. “Greg, that’s fantastic news! Tell me, has he mellowed over the years?”

“He has, actually,” Greg answers, reigning in his laughter. He bites the inside of his cheek and looks John over with trepidation in his eyes. His friend eyes him quizzically from behind his mug. Decision made, the CDI picks up his own cup and brings it to his mouth as he says: “Being a doting uncle helps too.”

John swallows and places his coffee cup on the table between them. His brows arch briefly before falling again.

“It’s hard to imagine,” John says ruefully, not meeting Greg’s knowing gaze.

“No more than his baby brother having a child,” he remarks easily, watching John closely. The doctor shoots him a sharp look and chuckles under his breath as he leans back in his seat. With a sardonic smile, John looks down at where his hands rest on the table with his fingers wrapped around the mug of dark liquid.

“That’s the understatement of the year,” John mutters. He raises his eyes to his friend’s face to see Greg’s lips turned up on one side in a crooked and very amused smirk. John doesn’t say a word, giving him ample time to explain.

“Is it?” is all Greg says, his smirk growing more satisfied. John huffs a quick laugh and shakes his head slightly. Straightening up in his seat and leaning his elbows on the table, John fixes Greg with an incredulous face.

“Come on,” he begins and is unable to keep the touch of a plea from his tone. “You can’t say something like that and not fill in the blanks.”

“What? He didn’t tell you?” Greg replies coyly, turning his cup on the table and picking it up by the handle.

“You damn well know he didn’t,” John huffs again. “We ran into each other at the bloody park after ten years of not speaking.”

“Yeah? And whose fault is that?” Greg mutters grimly. 

John stills instantly, lips parted with words that die on his tongue. Greg doesn’t look angry exactly, but he certainly isn’t pleased. Of all the people John expected to hold onto any animosity toward him, Greg Lestrade wasn’t even on the list.

John takes a shaky breath and closes his mouth. How can he even explain? It doesn’t even make sense in his own mind anymore. He swallows audibly, the very beginnings of sweat blooming at his temples. Greg is asking him to do what Sherlock could have in the park. What he still could, but probably never will. Not the Sherlock John knows.

“Mary was done,” John’s voice is choked and quiet. “With London and the surgery, but most of all with Sherlock. Revealing her secrets to me was the last nail in the coffin.”

“Funny you should say that,” Greg leans forward, his eyes ablaze and his voice low. “She shot him, John. She killed him. Stubborn bastard brought himself back from the dead and for what? His best friend to run off with his killer.”

“She was my wife,” John croaks barely above a whisper. “She was carrying my child.”

“You were married for all of two months,” Greg’s brown eyes are hard and bore into John’s very being like a hot poker. “She was a liar from the beginning.”

Greg clenches his teeth as if to stop himself from saying something and John has no doubt the words would cut him to the core. The muscles beneath the skin stretched across Greg’s jaw work constantly as he struggles to keep his cool in the crowded cafe. He sits back ever so slightly, pulling his elbows closer to the edge of the table, his intense gaze pinning John to his seat.

“When she left you,” Greg growls, trying to keep his voice even, “you could’ve called him. Hell, you could’ve done it before that. You knew where he was. You knew his number. He had no idea where you were and it nearly destroyed him.”

Silence hangs heavily in the air between them, even with the noise of the milk steamer and patrons all around. As much as John wants to look away in shame, he cannot break away from his friend’s furious glare. The source of Greg’s ire is suddenly crystal clear. Sherlock may have refused to hear Mycroft’s news of John’s life over the years, but Greg obviously hadn’t and it fueled his anger as time went on. John clears his throat, wincing at the sting of its sudden dryness.

“He started using again?” John’s heart sinks to his feet as he asks it. He had hoped against hope that Sherlock wouldn’t fall into oblivion without him. Greg lets out a mirthless laugh.

“No, he didn’t bloody use,” the words are a sneer and his lips curl. “But he was miserable. He disappeared into the flat for months and looked like hell when he resurfaced. He worked cases, but he was on auto-pilot until he met Jessie.”

“Jessie?” John asks, desperately curious. This, this is what he wants most to know. Olive’s mother. Sherlock’s wife? Where is she? Who is she? How did they meet? John has a thousand questions and now he knows for certain that Greg holds all of the answers. John need only ask, or so he thinks.

“No,” the CDI shakes his head and leans all the way back in his chair. He chews on his lip and puffs out an angry breath. “If you want to know, you’ll have to ask him. I’ll be damned if I give you an easy out.”

“You’re right,” John breathes out his shame in a sigh. “Anything I want to know should come from him.”

He raises his troubled eyes to Greg’s face and sees some of the anger on it has dissipated in favor of irritated approval. John straightens his spine and scrubs his hands through his short, silver-blonde hair. Pressing his lips in on each other, he inhales deeply and shakes his head. 

“God, how I failed him, Greg,” John murmurs. Words he has thought often and never actually uttered. “I was so tired and felt betrayed and he kept saying I should stay with Mary. That I should forgive her because she’d actually saved his life by shooting him. It’s such bullshit.”

“He wanted you to keep her close for Rosie’s sake,” Greg tells him. His eyes are softer than they have been since they walked in the coffee shop. “And for yours. He knew you would never live in 221B again, but you and Rosie were worth it. I don’t think he realized Mary would convince you to leave.”

“Her final revenge,” John mutters angrily as Greg sighs.

“Just...don’t make the same mistakes twice, John. Don’t shut him out,” Greg advises sagely, finally raising his coffee cup to his lips again and taking a quick sip. “Olive says she and Gracie want to have a playdate at the flat, but you’re holding them up.”

John watches Greg uneasily. Memories of 221B start skipping through his mind and with them, feelings he has left buried for ten years. John shakes them away and wraps his hands around his own mug.

“I don’t know if I can go back there,” John says.

“It won’t be easy,” Greg tells him, placing his cup on the table. He leans in and fixes John with a very serious gaze. “Stop running, John.”

With those three words, John’s mind clears. The simplicity of it is stunning and utterly heartbreaking. How many years would he and Sherlock have been friends again if John had just faced his fears, accepted responsibility for his mistakes and reached out to the detective? What the hell had happened to him and when had he let go of Captain Watson? John had lost half of himself all these years and never seemed to take notice. Sure, he had thought that Sherlock didn’t care anymore, even after Rosie died, but when had the man’s moods ever stopped him from horning in before? He punched him in the face as a cover, fucking wrestled him to the ground because he was angry with the git. He tried to comfort Sherlock when he thought he was in love with Irene Adler, for Christ sake. John Watson...always by his side and ready to kick the shit out of anyone who would touch him.

Filled with a new resolve, John squares his shoulders and meets Greg’s eyes. His own are determined and set, the decision made. He will accept Sherlock’s invitation and take Gracie to his old home. Maybe he’ll even invite himself in for tea and see if the man who was once his best friend will allow him back into his life. Maybe Sherlock will let him try to repair their friendship. God, John hopes so.

---

All I can say is Greg Motherfucking Lestrade, the dark horse in this story. Hell, yeah! 

Thank you so much for all the love and support. I definitely wouldn't be here without all of you! Love, Jane

@johnlock-rocks

[rohanrider3]

Brace Yourselves, I have THOUGHTS on this guy

Okay so I just watched Wizards (Tales of Arcadia) and I, along with many other folks, adore one (1) wizard in particular--Hisirdoux Casperan, better known as Douxie. I’m sure you’ve seen the art, the posts, and, well, the internet lately.

BUT HERE’S THE THING. One of the (many) reasons I love this guy. He’s not what one typically gets in a main character, AND he’s very different than other protagonists we’ve met in Arcadia. 

TLDR: Protective, kind-as-summer, ultimate “good older brother vibes” wizard who simultaneously 1) doesn’t think much of himself, 2) tries his hardest, and 3) is actually SUPER FREAKING POWERFUL is unique and I love him for all those reasons and more!! (Details (and spoilers) below the cut)

1: He’s young, yes, but he’s extremely experienced. He looks 19, but is 919. As the first episode shows, he’s been doing his best to live a good life and master magic for NINE CENTURIES. All the while looking like a kid! Douxie lived through the fall of Camelot, has seen technology blossom and evolve, AND has seen countless people come and go, all the while completely on his own except for Archie.

2: He’s extremely humble. He’s apparently been working odd jobs FOR ALMOST A MILENNIUM--so he can work from the shadows to protect people from terrors they don’t even know about--and works hard AT ALL OF IT. Menial jobs AND demon-fighting. First episode, he clearly WANTS to use magic to clean up the cafe (and as a former customer service worker I would have sold my wisdom teeth for magic, LET ALONE magic clean-up help!) but he refrains from doing so, because he really took Merlin’s advice to heart.

(Side note: IMO, Merlin’s an ASS. But the advice he gives in the beginning of “Wizards”--along the lines of “Relying on magic alone isn’t enough, first you have to master how to live well and THEN you can master magic, hard work is extremely important and not to be skipped”--is good. AND DOUXIE STICKS WITH IT FOR OVER 900 YEARS. OF HIS OWN VOLITION. Merlin’s in a tomb, he hasn’t been glaring over Douxie’s shoulder all this time!) Which brings me to-

3) Douxie, although a hard worker, sincerely good guy, and all around badass wizard, doubts himself a LOT (thanks Merlin’s endless snarking and yelling.) BUT, instead of always fighting/planning to get Merlin to approve of him, Douxie instead focuses on doing the right thing. But it isn’t easy and Merlin’s dismissal of him/his ideas/Merlin’s constant disparaging put-downs hurts him. But he doesn’t let it stop him.

4) Douxie CARES. A LOT. He’s patient, kind, eager to help, works hard, and has protected humanity from horrors it didn’t even know about for CENTURIES. While he was still an apprentice, with no master, and no other magic users (that we’ve really seen) that could teach him more about his own magic or how to use it. The hedge wizards are cool, but we don’t get to see much of them and it looks like they’re more of a side society in Arcadia than something Douxie’s strictly a part of.

5) Douxie protects whoever he can whenever he can. To him, all life is precious, and he gives off major “is anyone else protecting this person or trying to make things better okay cool cool cool, I’m gonna try to do that as much as I can for as many as I can right now!” attitude. Which gives off major older sibling vibes to me. 

(To emphasize, he cares about EVERYONE. He’s distraught at the thought of Arthur’s death, HE’S the one who uses his magic to remind--not enchant, REMIND--Arthur and Morgana of their old love of the forest and of Gwen (apparently the glue that held their trio together) and how, each in their own way, they miss her and still love each other. HE’S the one who’s constantly checking the time continuum, and keeps trying to tell Merlin that it doesn’t have to be Arthur vs. Morgana. But Merlin outright pushes him aside/ignores him, and events take their course. Interesting note: Right during the big fight scene in the past with Arthur vs. Morgana, just before Arthur cuts off Morgana’s hand with Excaliber and she falls to her death, you’ll notice the time continuum is blue. Which means it’s fine. The future is good. Douxie could go back to his future no problem. BUT WHEN HE SEES MORGANA’S DEAD FORM as part of the repaired timeline, HE SHOUTS AND RUNS TOWARD THEM TO TRY AND STOP IT. Morgana being DEAD didn’t mess up the timeline. Excaliber being broken did. But Douxie was still trying to save Morgana AND Arthur, and only the blast of magic from their fight knocked him back. And he still grieves her death as one of the parts of his failure, even while Merlin pushes him aside and focuses on Arthur and Excaliber in the aftermath of the battle.

6) Does anyone else think Douxie has a major guilt complex/super messed up self esteem? Because Douxie tearfully shouting “I’m so sorry! This is all my fault!” to Merlin, AS DOUXIE’S OWN LIFE IS IN DANGER AFTER HE TRIED TO SAVE HIS FRIENDS and keep the Arcane Order from destroying the world...that hit hard. His life is on the line and (most likely) his last words are a plea for forgiveness to the Master that routinely dismissed him as an incompetent idiot and was more than happy to leave teenagers (!TEENAGERS!) who’d fought and risked everything to protect the world to die horribly at the hands of his enemies. Douxie--caring, kind-hearted, I-get-my-ass-rountinely-handed-to-me-but-always-get-up-again DOUXIE was the one who ran back to get Jim and Claire. Not Merlin. Merlin was *this close* to leaving to protect Nari for the greater good, and only reconsidered because Douxie had thrown himself into the fray (and despite his best efforts got thrown hard into a rock wall by The Green Knight. And then volleyball spiked into the (equally hard rock) floor and crushed by MindControlledTrollJim.

7) Douxie DOES NOT GIVE UP. Merlin writes Jim’s injuries off as hopeless and him as a lost cause, but Douxie relentlessly tries to figure out ways to fix things. Arthur and Morgana’s relationship, Jim’s injury/worsening curse, all the scenarios where they (it looks like) have to choose between saving their friends AND the world. He doesn’t just shrug and write off losses the way Merlin does. Douxie keeps throwing himself at problems and putting himself at risk to solve them.

8) He’s honest. (Certain Lad of Fortune bowl games aside ;) ) Merlin only told Jim the problem with the wound and left it at that. Douxie makes sure that Claire knows the reality of the situation and promises he’ll find a way to fix it. He knows their situation isn’t ideal, but he refuses to just shrug and leave things as they are. He’s more than willing to throw himself wholeheartedly into finding a way to fix things and refuses to let defeat stop him. Which leads me to, finally--

9) Douxie willingly, without flinching or making a big deal about it, walks into the jaws of death for his friends and the world. For Pete’s sake, he does it with a SMILE. He KNOWS getting his friends back is a long shot. He KNOWS the Arcane Order cannot get Nari AND the Seals, or else the world is doomed--AND he could easily have chosen to go on the run, with the Seals, for the rest of his life. His friends would have died (or worse), Nari would have been trapped with the Order for the rest of time, but the world (and Douxie) would have been safe. Why? The Order doesn’t know he has the seals. Merlin said they could be FOUND if his staff was destroyed, he didn’t say they were STORED there. (And yeah, I wanted Douxie to trick the Order with fake Seals too, but after some thought I’d argue that they’re ancient and powerful enough where they probably wouldn’t have been fooled by or chased after a fake.) Also, going on the run with inanimate objects your hunters don’t know you have and having the kind of magic Douxie does--he could have had a niiiiiice life. Maybe a little mobile, but arguably MUCH easier than constantly making sure a small forest spirit doesn’t get snatched up by her angry brethren. In any case--

Douxie’s plan included--and even hinged on--his willingness to die buying his friends and Nari time to escape. He BUILT IT INTO HIS PLAN. And that bravery, courage, and matter of fact heroism--along with that defiant smirk he gives the Order when they threaten to kill him--is why I love this guy so much. 

[itsclydebitches]

YYH Recaps: Episode 4 “Requirements for Lovers”

Hello, everyone! It's been quite a while, huh? Ah, the endless cycle of wanting to write and yet, astoundingly, not writing. I know it well.

Good ol' writer's block has skedaddled for a time though, so let's make good use of that and dive into Episode Four: "Requirements for Lovers." 

Ohhh, YYH getting spicy with its titles ��

Actually wait, I shouldn't be making dumb jokes just yet. First I want to acknowledge a slight change to future recaps: YYH, RWBY, and anything else I might try my hand at. Namely, a lack of pictures moving forward. A few weeks ago — months? I honestly can't keep track — tumblr implemented a new limitation where no post can have more than ten images in it. It's a move that, while I'm sure has its justifications, makes sharing analyses of visually-based media all the more difficult. I'll be doing my best moving forward to describe scenes as needed, as well as combining connected images together to stretch out my limit, but I'm not going to pretend that it'll be the same as getting the visual play-by-play we’re used to. 

Tumblr certainly is a website, huh?  

Anyway, we open on Yusuke once again lamenting the difficulty of hatching a spirit beast that doesn't immediately devour him from the head down. On the one hand this is an admittedly easy way to reset the story over the course of this arc — the storytelling equivalent of waking your character up each morning — yet I cannot deny that if I were undergoing a resurrection test, it would consume my every thought too. Can't really blame Yusuke for endlessly bringing the conflict up when the conflict is this deadly.

Well, deadly for a ghost, anyway.

Specifically, he's worried about how embarrassing it would be to get eaten by something that came out of an egg this tiny. I'm torn between reminding a fictional character that things grow — a pissed off chicken could kick my ass and it started out in an egg too — and just shaking my head over the absurdity of worrying about embarrassment when, you know, you would cease to exist. It's not even a matter of, "What if I die and then I'm embarrassed about it in the afterlife :( " Yusuke is already IN the afterlife. He's got nowhere to go but oblivion!

Luckily, Botan takes a more practical approach to these worries, pointing out that he'll be just fine provided he does some good deeds. Yusuke starts a rant about how do-gooders are only ever out for themselves.

Yusuke, you dumb-dumb, you're a do-gooder now. What was all that help for Kuwabara, hmm? As said, these early episodes exist in a semi-reset loop, where Yusuke needs to stew in his main character flaws for a while before any real growth starts to stick. Those flaws being, primarily, "I'm a pessimist" and "also I hate myself."

Case in point, Botan accuses him of always seeing the glass as half empty. Which, while true enough (outside of his confidence in fighting, anyway), by now we've got a pretty good sense of where Yusuke developed this attitude. He affirms this by talking about how Koenma's got him by the balls, "just another idiot abusing his power!" With an alcoholic mother and those teachers from last episode, it's no wonder Yusuke thinks this way. Mr. Takenaka's interest and Keiko's care aren't enough to combat the rest of Yusuke's experience, not when Takenaka is an outlier and Keiko is Yusuke's peer. Her desire to keep him on the right track reads only as an inevitability at best (the downside of having a perfect childhood friend), or a legitimate annoyance at worst. Or, as we'll continue to see in this episode, a way for them to flirt.

Is it any wonder Yusuke would sneer at Koenma's offer then, expecting the worst? The fact that Yusuke is still undergoing the challenge at all, no matter what he says, speaks volumes to me.

However, Botan is less than comfortable with his criticisms. She panics a bit at Yusuke insulting the (junior) ruler of the underworld so blithely. That, and the fact that he's carelessly tossing his egg around.

(Yes we’re using precious picture space for memes are you SURPRISED?) 

Anyway, Botan isn't just concerned for the sake of concern. She cautions Yusuke against speaking too freely because there may be investigators checking in on his progress. No sooner does he ask what those investigators look like than one appears.

Thunder! Lighting! An energy so intense that Yusuke is briefly blinded! It is, as he says, quite the entrance. What kind of being could possibly be at the heart of such an astounding show?

Why, this teeny-tiny cutie, of course.

Remember, few appearances in YYH coincide with the character's true self. Would you ever assume this is the all-powerful investigator who holds Yusuke's future in her hands? Of course not. That's the point.

The investigator introduces herself as Sayaka and immediately demonstrates that she has no more patience for Yusuke's attitude than Botan does. "These damn kids," he mutters and my brain briefly blue screens because Yusuke. You're fourteen.

Plus, Sayaka and Botan clearly have some sort of eternal youth situation going on, so there's that too.

Sayaka is, in a word, fantastic. She pulls no punches with Yusuke, teleporting away from him with what can only be described as a shit-eating smile, all while refusing to tell him what exactly she's investigating. “I’m sorry, but that’s a secret!” However, Keiko is clearly at the forefront of her interest. She refers to her as Yusuke's "girlfriend."

Botan is more than happy to point Keiko out — because of course they're still following her around! — and pulls a Et tu, Brute? on Yususke, leading Sayaka right to her. Like most of the Underworld, Sayaka is rather shocked that the pretty, popular, scholarly girl is supposedly into the delinquent. It's the power of childhood friendship, you fools! Specifically, Sayaka references the "positive markings" that Keiko has accumulated, but the audience already knows by now that such markings are suspect at best. Yusuke himself is proof of that. So if his terrible marks don't preclude him from being a young kid's savior, should we really view Keiko's as proof of superiority?

I mean, Keiko is fantastic, but that's not really the point here.

Starting her own investigation into Yusuke's life, Sayaka begins with one hell of a bombshell: "There's no point in doing [the resurrection] if the people closest to you don't care." WOW. Not only is that a harsh assessment, it's one I don't think I can personally get behind. The offer to restore Yusuke to life is built on the acknowledgment that their system is flawed (even if there's no work to change or dismantle that system): they thought he was worthless, his sacrificial death seems to have proven them wrong, and now they want further evidence, in the form of this trial, that Yusuke is a good person at heart. The whole point of this challenge is to give him a second chance, with testimonies like Mr. Takenaka's emphasizing that Yusuke has always been capable of more, so long as he applies himself. This, as we'll see throughout the series, applies to relationships too. The Yusuke with one friend he play-fights with, a distant mother, and a school worth of kids who are terrified of his very name is not the future Yusuke they expect him to become, so... why base his resurrection on what he's already (not) accomplished? Granted, the show is very unclear about what, if anything, Sayaka will do if she decides that Yusuke doesn't have a life worth going back to (even if I have my own theory discussed at the end), but the fact that this is suddenly a factor at all seems grossly unfair, not entirely unlike Kuwabara's rigged promise. We as the audience know that people love Yusuke. Yusuke himself is beginning to acknowledge that. But if this fourteen year old delinquent truly had no one that wanted him back from the dead... isn't that all the more reason to allow a resurrection and give him the chance to build a life where he would be missed? 

This stupid shonen got me thinking too much istg. 

Yusuke, ever the self-deprecating pessimist, bypasses all of the above thoughts and jumps straight to, "It's clear if [Keiko] had any sense she'd want me gone." I'd find that attitude incredibly sad if I wasn't distracted by how cute Botan and Sayaka are, sitting on the oar together. The spirit girls who fly together, thrive together! 

Botan starts teasing Yusuke about having a crush, which just feeds his temper and Sayaka's confusion. Deciding that she needs to gather more info, they follow along for an average day of school because these earlier episodes are, apparently, ghost-stalk Keiko hours. 

We see her reading aloud in class from Heart of Darkness (not the easiest book for some middle schoolers), scoring a point during volleyball practice, refusing to let one girl cheat off her homework, but happily helping another who runs up with a question. So she's pretty, athletic, and academically successful, the trifecta for any good love interest. Sayaka is impressed not just with her "nearly perfect" scores, but also the maturity that Keiko demonstrates, such as maintaining her morals about cheating while remaining compassionate. 

Actually, I really love the contrast this provides for us, the viewer. Meaning, Keiko is shown to be at her least mature when in Yusuke's presence. Not that her responses aren't justified, but watching her dramatically snatch gum from his mouth, slap him across the face, or pull crazed expressions as she yells at him is a far cry from this calm, poised, soft-spoken Keiko. It's a way to visually show us that she's comfortable in his presence, despite the suspect humor attached. Not that the Keiko we see at school is faking or anything — she is legitimately that kind and articulate — but we see that being with Yusuke allows her to relax in a way she doesn't with others. School!Keiko is, as Sayaka says, pretty much perfect, 24/7. Yusuke's Keiko is a little rougher around the edges, in a way that implies a multifaceted personality shining through. 

However, the only conclusion our trio draws is that, given Keiko's accomplishments, any attraction must be one-sided.

Poor Yusuke lol. 

In a plot move that is so ridiculously contrived, just as Yusuke is grappling with the accusation that Keiko couldn't possibly like him back, a "handsome boy" arrives to ask Keiko out. He says that he couldn't bear it when she stopped reading Heart of Darkness because he's fallen in love with her voice. "Will you be my girlfriend?" 

Please excuse me while I lose my shit over how ridiculous this is. I legitimately straight up cackled when I watched this scene. 

Luckily for Mr. Absurd, Keiko takes him seriously — and lets him down easy. She says she can't be his girlfriend and when he presses the "Why?", asking if she already likes someone else, Keiko confirms that she does. This is done through a shot of her feet. Not a POV shot given the angle, but close enough that it feels like we're stepping into Keiko's shoes (haha), shyly staring down at the floor in embarrassment and regret. 

Rejection complete? The guy screams. 

I mean he screams. 

I mean this nobody we're never gonna see again unhinges his jaw and lets out an unholy shriek the likes of which makes me shriek in utter GLEE. 

It's insane. It's wonderful. I'm going to use one of my coveted image spots to show you his face: 

Look at that and tell me this show isn't amazing. 

Okay, I'm focusing again. As Keiko runs off Botan and Sayaka start dragging Yusuke, teasing him about how Keiko chose him over that "charming handsome boy." 

...Please scroll up and look at that image again. I find YYH's definition of "charming" and "handsome" to be hilariously wrong. 

Yusuke, as per usual, throws himself into damage control, claiming that Keiko didn't say who she liked, so really it could be anyone. They're not buying it. “'I like Keiko' is written all over your face!” Botan crows. Meanwhile, Sayaka is scribbling in her little investigator's journal that feelings on both side are severely misunderstood. "Suggest serious counseling." 

Fantastic idea, Sayaka. I'd personally suggest counseling for the whole dying/best friend getting resurrected thing... but relationship woes work too! 

We cut to later when school is out and Keiko has gone over to Yusuke's. To say that Atsuko has done a poor job of keeping the house clean lately would be a serious understatement. 

Keiko points out the old food and broken glass specifically, cluing us in that this isn't just a messy environment, but a dangerous one as well. This is proven when she accidentally knocks a stack of books over and a used bowl falls onto Yusuke's face. What's interesting is that Keiko says that things are "back to normal" now, though I'm not sure if that's in reference to the state of the house, or just the note Atsuko left behind, asking Keiko to take care of Yusuke while she's out. I'm inclined towards thinking it's just the note, partly because of Keiko's shock when she first arrives, because the house wasn't shown to be in this state prior to Yusuke's death (first image above), and because the note is accompanied by a great voiceover that makes Atsuko sound quite sloshed when she left. That's what's normal, the drinking and carefree attitude, not the state of her home. If we buy that reading, it allows for another fantastic look into Atsuko's mental state. If she's already an alcoholic, the trauma of her son's death and the following revelation that he's coming back might make her struggle in other ways. Like finding cleaning to be an impossible task. 

She's depressed. It doesn't excuse the state she's left Yusuke in and, as previously acknowledged, YYH is definitely not a show interested in this nuance, but I still find it fun to take what little we've gotten and run with it. 

However, Keiko is firmly on team "WTF Atsuko." She hurries to make sure Yusuke wasn't hurt by the falling bowl, bemoans him being "covered in garbage," and says that leaving him in this state should be considered a felony. Knowing it's far beyond her power to fix Atsuko's failings, Keiko swears to come here after school every day until Yusuke regains his body. It's as she's cleaning him of the dust that's gathered that Keiko becomes entranced with Yusuke’s features. Particularly his lips. The soft lighting returns, their theme song swells, and Keiko gets thiiiis close to kissing Yusuke for the first time. 

Which is a little weird, right? I mean, we know why Yusuke is freaking out. Beyond the embarrassment of a middle schooler receiving his first kiss while two ghost girls eagerly watch on, he's made a hobby of denouncing his interest in Keiko to anyone who will listen. But for the average viewer — for Keiko herself — don't we care the he's, you know, dead? Or if not technically dead, very unconscious? Don't get me wrong, I fully understand the appeal of this situation in a generalized, cultural sense (with the side disclaimer that I'm reading a Japanese product through an American lens). Sleeping Beauty exists for a reason and there's definitely an element of that here: a gender-reversed setup where Keiko’s kills may break the "curse" of Yusuke's untimely death. Even his in-between state of being mirrors the "death like sleep" of the fairy tale. But when you strip away those Disney-esque thoughts, we're left with a girl about to kiss an unresponsive body, not as a common gesture of care (the parent who kisses their child while they sleep), but as a first time, romantic milestone. 

It's a little weird lol. 

But embrace the romance! As well as its inevitable interruption. Just as Keiko is about to land a peck, the neighborhood watch committee announces a heat and fire warning, startling Keiko out of her thoughts about Yusuke's "beautiful face." (There's another gender reversal for ya.) She gasps at her almost-action, conveniently remembers that her mom wanted her to do some shopping, and hightails it out of there before embarrassment can really kill them both. 

So she runs off for food... in a sweater? The outfit is cute and all, but I wonder what the animators were thinking, putting Keiko in a puffy pullover during an episode all about a heat wave. 

It's about at this point that the plot goes from cute romance to absolutely buck wild. The fires the neighborhood watch committee mentioned are not, in fact, due to the overwhelming heat, but an arsonist that's going around tossing molotov cocktails through open windows. Why is he doing such a thing? I don't know. Arsonists be doing arson, I guess. The important bit is that Yusuke's place is his next target, considering that Atsuko forgot to lock the windows when she went out. Within seconds all that garbage is set ablaze, quite obviously putting Yusuke's resurrection chances at an all time low. 

"Wake up, stupid!" he shouts at his unconscious body. Mood, Yusuke. That's me every morning. 

So this is a full scale emergency now and everyone is scrambling trying to think of something to do. Yusuke comes up with the idea to possess himself like he did Kuwabara — nice attempt at a loophole there — but since it would technically count as his resurrection, no dice. Botan decides to go get Kuwabara himself, even though he's too far away to do anything. It's still worth a shot. Sayaka, meanwhile, watches all this unfold with a somewhat clinical detachment. She's not quite indifferent and she's definitely not cruel... she’s just not as emotionally invested in this as the other two. Which not only re-emphasizes her purpose here, as an observer judging Yusuke, but also highlights the bond Botan is forming with him. As mentioned before in regards to her hanging out with Yusuke rather than ferrying souls, Botan is well past someone assisting Yusuke simply because it's a part of her job. He's her friend. 

We get some shots of the growing fire which includes a hazy texture to the animation I quite like and then we cut to Keiko several blocks away, shopping bag in hand. Word of the new fire spreads, with one bystander mentioning that it's the twelfth today. 

"This is eerie.” 

“Yeah, I can’t help feeling we’re under attack.”

That's because you are! Someone stop that man! 

Sadly, I don't think the arsonist is mentioned again, let alone captured. We'll just have to relegate that to my incredibly niche fic wishlist. 

Keiko also overhears that the latest fire is on fourth avenue, which of course is where Yusuke lives. Recognizing that he might be in trouble, she takes off at a run. 

Meanwhile, Botan finds Kuwabara practicing his kicks against a Yusuke dummy. Amazing resemblance, right? 

Watching for the purpose of recapping, I'm picking up on a lot of details in the animation I quite enjoy. I don't think anyone would claim that YYH, at this point in time, has the most impressive or flashy animation (the fight scenes later are another matter entirely), but there's a clear love for the product that shines through. The scared expression on Kuwabara's dummy. His unexpectedly dainty kick, complete with pointed toes. Botan's more translucent coloring to emphasize her supernatural status compared to Kuwabara. There are a lot of nice touches despite the overall simplicity. 

Plus, you can't forget the lovely irony of Kuwabara fighting a defenseless "Yusuke" while the real guy actually lies defenseless amidst a fire. We already know that despite his tough talk, Kuwabara would be horrified to learn that his friend rival had died (again) in such a manner. 

Capitalizing on that transparency, Botan runs a hand through Kuwabara's back to catch his attention. He gets his "tickle feeling" and instinctively looks around towards Yusuke's house, seeing the smoke. "Something tells me I should go that way." Gotta love a guy who drops everything to chase a vague, supernaturally induced hunch. 

As Kuwabara leaves we cut back to Keiko arriving at the house, staring in horror at the blaze. We get an audio flashback to her talk with Yusuke where she promised to take care of his body until he got back. So she tries to run in, only for a couple of the onlookers to snag her, quite correctly keeping her from undergoing a suicide mission. We learn later that Keiko absolutely would have died without Yusuke's sacrifice, so her "You cowards!" is born more of emotion than justified accusations. It's not cowardly to look at the raging inferno in a small apartment and realize that recklessly running in will only result in two dead teens, not one. 

I mean, the flames are already right there, licking the door. Even if Keiko somehow managed to avoid burns, the smoke alone would do her in. Still, Keiko tries to mitigate the damage by dumping a bucket of water over her head. As a kid I remember thinking this was the smartest thing ever. Utterly inspired. Keep that in the back of your mind, kid Clyde, for future reference. As an adult... I have no idea whether this would actually help or not lol. Any firefighters doubling as YYH fans? 

Recklessness and iffy precautions aside, I can't express how much I appreciate the story giving Keiko things to do. Yusuke recognizes that she's the only one with the maturity and open-mindedness to believe in his resurrection. She's the one picking up Atsuko's slack regarding his day-to-day needs. She never hesitates for a moment, heroically throwing herself into this blaze for Yusuke's benefit. Yeah, a lot of that still falls into the emotional/domestic sphere — what we expect of the love interest in a 90s anime — but too often action stories don't have a clue what to do with their non-action characters, not even when it comes to just supporting the fighters. They're simply... there. Keiko, however, isn't window dressing. Whether it's helping Botan survive an upcoming, supernatural plague, or cheering the team on at the Dark Tournament, Keiko is an important part of the story, despite lacking the fighting prowess of the rest of the cast. 

Just as important, this episode establishes a core equality between her and Yusuke. We just watched Keiko reject a (presumably) accomplished guy for him, telling the audience that these surface differences — academics, power levels, popularity, looks — don't matter to them. Yusuke is not Keiko's lesser just because he doesn't have the same scores in Sayaka's book and Keiko won't become Yusuke's lesser just because she doesn't have spiritual power like he does. The only important thing here is that they love each other and they're both willing to sacrifice everything for the other. In the span of about ten minutes, Keiko nearly gives up her life for Yusuke and, in turn, Yusuke gives up his resurrection for her. The level of care they show towards one another is balanced, despite those differences. 

They’re a good ship, y'all. Even if this recapping's got me noticing Yusuke/Kuwabara potential lol. 

To get back to the plot, a drenched Keiko charges into the fire, yelling Yusuke's name for the drama of it because we all know he can't respond. Despite the audience (hopefully) recognizing Keiko and Yusuke's equality, that memo hasn't reached Yusuke yet. "You're a lot more important to this world than I am!" he yells, hammering home that despite everything — knowing he instinctively saved a child, watching his loved ones grieve for him, helping Kuwabara just because he can — Yusuke still, deep down, believes that he doesn't deserve to come back; that he doesn't measure up to those around him. The self-sacrificial nature this insecurity produces shocks Sayaka. She points out that if Keiko doesn't save his body, he's not coming back. "What's the point of being alive if Keiko has to get killed for it?" 

Keiko means more to Yusuke than the rest of his living existence. Jot that down in your notebook, Sayaka! 

Kuwabara arrives and runs into one of his friends who informs him that Keiko just went inside. “Yusuke’s girl? The one we saved from those thugs?”

BOY does that tell us a lot about their rivalry! I mean yeah, we've already established several times over that Kuwabara — just like Yusuke himself — is not the cruel street thug he'd like to present himself as. If these characters actually wanted to hurt each other outside of a martial arts challenge, don't you think Kuwabara would capitalize on the "Yusuke's girl" bit? Everyone seems to know that they have feelings for each other, but Kuwabara never once wields that as ammunition against Yusuke. There are no taunts about him not being good enough. Or rather, I should clarify there are no serious taunts — Kuwabara is well known for his teasing. There's also no attempt to steal Keiko out from under him, the common treatment of the love interest as a "prize" that many stories fall into. Indeed, later this episode YYH will deconstruct this a bit. Yusuke sees Kuwabara grab Keiko's hand and yells that he better not be getting "fresh" with her. But it's purely Yusuke's worries shining through. The audience gets a crystal clear picture of the situation and knows, categorically, that Kuwabara has only the most innocent of intentions in holding Keiko's hand. 

(Well, running from the police isn't innocent, but...) 

I keep getting sidetracked. Plot! Keiko makes it to Yusuke's room and finds that he is already on fire. She then proceeds to try and put it out by patting it with her hands. I take back what I said about Keiko's smarts in this scene. Now we know where that supposed recklessness comes from though. Apparently they're both immune to fire! Nothing to worry about here, folks. 

JK she's actually in danger, despite the animation choices. By this point everyone, including Keiko, realizes that there's no way out: the fire has blocked the door. Sayaka then reveals that there is one way to save her. If Yusuke throws his egg into the fire, the energy of the spirit beast will release and guide her to safety. The catch? Hatch the egg early and it won't complete its intended function of guiding him back to his body. This beast is gonna guide one person and that is it. 

Cue Yusuke's near immediate decision to sacrifice his life for Keiko's. Granted, it's not precisely one life for another. Yusuke's resurrection was always contingent upon the beast not devouring him whole — something Koenma claims would have happened at the end of the episode — meaning that it's not technically a fair trade. Yusuke might have sacrificed Keiko's life for his own... only to fail to get that life back anyway. (There's a tragedy for ya.) To say nothing of how Yusuke is currently dead and has been for at least a couple of days, whereas Keiko very much is not. There's some sort of philosophical discussion there about potential being pit against current reality. 

BUT that's not the point! The emotional point is that he sacrificed his life for hers — the potential of his resurrection, the potential of that life he might have led — all technicalities aside. And I, for one, think that's very neat of him. 

A blue light shines as the egg's energy is released, providing a lovely contrast to the fire surrounding them. A path forms to the door and Keiko, recognizing Yusuke's presence, follows it. "We'll make it, Yusuke," Keiko says, which is one hell of a sucker-punch now that we know she's just carrying a corpse. Unbeknownst to Keiko, Yusuke is very much not making it. That's the only reason why she is. 

Kuwabara appears to help them the rest of the way which is also a pretty awesome thing considering that, from everyone else's perspective, the fire is still raging and blocking the door. Despite his spiritual awareness, Kuwabara gives no indication that he noticed this strange light, or Yusuke's hand in the rescue. Which basically means he lunged into a bunch of deadly fire for Keiko and doesn't question how in the world he isn't burned. 

Keiko's hands are fine, Kuwabara's whole body is fine... fire immunity must run in the friend group! 

Yusuke has another rare moment of vulnerability — "They're both okay" — and I cackle happily at the "both" because see. You love Kuwabara too, Yusuke! All this bluster about hating him and finding him annoying. The second he rushed into that fire you were crawling up the walls. 

Except then that happiness gives way to something that sounds a little more shocked. Devastated. "Well, I sure am... relieved..." Kudos to Cook's voice acting. You can hear the exact moment Yusuke realizes what he's done. Not that he regrets it, but the consequences are finally sinking in. He's relieved that they're safe, yes, but now he's never going to be able to rejoin them. 

As Yusuke has an(other) existential crisis, Kuwabara peels back the blanket Keiko had wrapped Yusuke in, revealing his face. “What are you doing with Yusuke’s body?! Are you some type of sick grave robber?” he shouts. God I love when a story actually keeps track of who knows what. Kuwabara, for all his recent involvement in the plot, doesn't actually know what's going on. From his perspective Yusuke died, he made a scene at the wake, he saved "his girl" from a bunch of thugs, lost a huge chunk of time only to wake up with her randomly hugging him (then slapping him), participated in a bet with his awful teacher and had a couple weird, Yusuke related dreams while studying, and has felt the presence of ghosts perhaps a little more frequently than usual. Now he's trying to help save Keiko from a fire only for her to reveal she risked her own life for Yusuke's body. Of course he's freaking out! What's she doing with that? 

What's utterly fantastic though is that Kuwabara takes all of five seconds to process this and then enters immediate Ride or Die mode for Keiko. She's been hoarding Yusuke's body for undetermined reasons? Well, who is he to judge? The important thing here is that people are arrested for keeping bodies, so they've gotta skedaddle before the firefighters show up. 

Hence, hand-holding and avoiding arrest. 

As Yusuke starts threatening Kuwabara not to get "fresh" with her, Botan sadly reminds him that he no longer has a say in who Keiko does or does not fall in love with. The switch in tone is jarring. Whereas before Botan would have teased him mercilessly for the crush, now she knows that nothing can come of that — and it would be cruel not to remind Yusuke of that too. 

"Oh no. I didn't think..." Yusuke whispers, further establishing that he knew the risks of using his egg, but hadn't allowed them to sink in yet. Now they have. 

He gives a fake little laugh with, "Just when it was getting good" and I cry at the development in the span of just four episodes. Despite what I said at the beginning about the show resetting each week, there has been a lot of change thus far. Yusuke wants to live now! He wants to be there for Keiko! He looks down on his tiny family and screams at the unfairness of it all! They're talking about how they can't wait for him to come back and now that's never gonna happen!!

It hurts, friends. It hurts a whole lot. 

During this conversation between Keiko, Atsuko, and Kuwabara, we see that a couple of hours have passed (it's nighttime now, the fire is out) and Atsuko is apologizing for putting them all in danger like that. And by that I mean yes, she does technically apologize with an "I'm sorry" and everything, but it's also a one sentence apology pit against... well, near death for the three people standing (and sitting) before her. Atsuko seems just as concerned by Keiko losing her hair as she does Keiko nearly burning to death and she kneels by Yusuke's wheelchair, baby-talking to him about how he forgives her, right? I love Atsuko, she's great, but objectively speaking she is not a good mother. Not right now, anyway. 

Oh yeah, and just to reiterate that: Keiko's hands are fine after patting down Yusuke's on-fire body, but her hair, which I'm pretty sure never catches, has to be cut short. Ah, anime logic. Funny thing is, YYH isn't the only story to take the love interest and give her a cool, short cut thanks to a traumatic event. Anyone read Ranma 1/2? 

During this conversation we also learn that, sometime between the fire and now, Keiko filled Kuwabara in on everything that's happening with Yusuke. Makes sense. He kneels beside the wheelchair, joining the others in telling Yusuke that they'll wait patiently for his return. Yusuke, above them, continues yelling about how they're waiting on a dead man. 

“It can’t be helped. He made this decision on his own." 

Except it can, in fact, be helped!

Just as all hope is truly lost, Koenma appears and announces that Yusuke will be returned to life. Why? Because sacrificing his egg for Keiko is a better indicator of his worth than the egg itself could have been. Despite feeding on his negative outlook and heading towards biting Yusuke's head off — something the animation backs up by showing us teeth during the fire

— Yusuke's act demonstrates a tendency towards being a "decent human being" that is "so rare." Wow. That's depressing. Still, yay that Yusuke has those qualities! And this, to my mind, helps explain Sayaka's presence. Koenma recognized that judging Yusuke couldn't be left to the egg alone and indeed, Sayaka took note of his worth before he ever threw the egg into the fire. First it was questioning why someone as amazing as Keiko would go for him, then it was solidified through the shock of Yusuke announcing that coming back to life was meaningless if she wasn't in it. Even if Keiko had somehow, miraculously escaped the fire before Yusuke's sacrifice, I bet Sayaka's report would have tipped him in resurrection's favor anyway. 

Everyone is, of course, overjoyed and my heart swells at the intense gratitude Yusuke displays. My favorite part though is when Koenma cryptically says that “Your added experience with death could make you very useful" (a nod towards future events that goes right over Yusuke's head) and his response to this is a yelled, "YOU THINK I'M USEFUL?" This poor kid. The God of everything ever is chucking out revelations left and right, about resurrections and spirit beasts, but the only thing that really penetrates is the realization that someone thinks he's useful. Talk about relatable. 

You know, I've been thinking about why this moment works so well. I mean, there are a lot of other stories where undermining the consequences our hero faces — either with humor, or by erasing them completely — can feel like the audience was cheated. I think YYH dodged that with a couple of crucial factors. First, Yusuke's consequence isn't something new that he's now avoided, it's just a permanent extension of something he was already dealing with. We did get to watch him inhabit the space between life and death, grappling with whether he'd ever be able to return. The story didn't deny us that growth, it just confirmed something we all instinctively knew: this tale won't end here with Yusuke permanently going to some afterlife. Second, the Deus ex Machina fix doesn't happen too soon. Yeah, it's only a couple of minutes in a single episode, but we (and Yusuke) still get to sit with that outcome for a while, soaking it in before its removal. Finally, there's no doubt that Yusuke earned this reprieve. Koenma's timing might be sudden and (if you're not genre savvy) unexpected, but looking back at the series as a whole thus far, we're able to agree absolutely that Yusuke deserves this. Far from feeling like we were cheated, this solution invites just as much celebration as we're seeing on screen, for the simple reason that we can buy into Koenma's reasoning. We know now that Yusuke is a good person. We saw him selflessly sacrifice his future for Keiko. We agree that he deserves a second chance. 

Thus, the episode ends with Yusuke flying up to fill the screen in his joy, a far better, final shot than Harry Potter and The Prison of Azkaban managed 😰

And that's it for Episode 4, folks! See you later for Episode 5 💕

[julemmaes]

What The

Prompt sent by @sayosdreams: Ezra goes on his first date

acotar next gen fan fiction

A/N: definitely not what I had planned for this prompt, but I’m not sad nor surprised. Ezra is 16, almost 17, Andra is 6 and the others don’t appear. But we’re introduced to Dara (MorxAndromache’s son) who is 16, Nia (AmrenxVarian’s daughter) who is 15, and Chelo (EmeriexAzriel’s second daughter) who is 6 and Fabien (FeyrexRhysand’s second son) who is 7 are mentioned.

Fic masterlist

Word count: 6,692

Ezra didn't know he could be so embarrassed for someone else. And so scared for his own personal safety.

When Nia and Dara had told him they'd found him someone to go out with, he'd never expected the guy in question to be...well, like this.

Daniel was peculiar.

When he'd seen him arrive at the bus stop where they'd arranged to meet, Ezra had immediately felt a creepy feeling of unease, which had only increased out of all proportion when the boy whose last name he didn't even know yet had hugged him like his grandmother did every time they visited.

Ezra had stood motionless with his eyebrows pinned to his hairline for a full minute while the other one formally introduced himself, reaching out a hand toward him. He'd seen her nails polished a cheerful pastel blue and had smiled, trying to quell that wrong feeling in the back of his mind, "I like your nails."

Daniel had chuckled disturbingly - the sound still etched in Ezra's mind - and then made a very serious face, "It's to let others know I'm so gay."

The Navarro boy hadn't commented, not wanting to make an immediate bad impression with his date, but he'd found at least five ways to retort to that immense bullshit.

Daniel had linked their arms together and told him he'd take him to his favorite spot, and Ezra had been hesitant with all that physical touch. Not because he wasn't used to having someone around all the time touching him in one way or another, but because Daniel seemed like the kind of person who had no idea what boundaries were and he wasn't keen on being kissed out of the blue.

"So, what are you?" he had suddenly asked him.

Ezra had arched an eyebrow, confused, "What am I?"

"Yes, what are you silly," the other had chuckled. Silly? What the- "Gay, bi, pan?" Ezra had been dumbfounded, and he was sure that if Daniel hadn't been dragging him along, he would have gotten stuck in the middle of the sidewalk. He'd blinked a few times, trying to figure out why someone would ask such a thing for no apparent reason. When he'd still been silent, looking for an answer that wouldn't make him look like a complete idiot, Daniel had asked him again, giving him a light shove.

Erza had looked at him at that point, his expression somewhere between surprised and furious, "I don't know yet, I'm trying to figure it out."

"Oh, poor thing, I'm sure you'll understand after tonight." and again that creepy giggle, "I'll make sure this date makes you realize you're completely gay."

He hadn't told anyone he was going on a date that night, only his two best friends, and in that moment he couldn't have regretted his decision more.

He'd made up an excuse for his parents and Cassian and Nesta were now home chilling, probably doing what they did every Saturday night when they somehow managed to get rid of their kids, but Ezra just wanted to call his mom and get the hell out of that fast food.

He made a disgusted grimace, moving a chip with a handkerchief, too afraid that he would catch some kind of disease if he actually touched that food, when something under the table caught his attention. He opened his eyes wide when he realized it was a cockroach and had to suppress a gag.

"Are you okay, Ezzy?" Daniel asked him in a squeaky voice - Danny, as he'd asked him to call him when they'd arrived at the venue, "You look a little pale."

Ezra looked up at the boy, unsure whether to tell him for the tenth time that he hated that stupid nickname he'd stuck on him almost an hour ago or to let it go and try to enjoy the rest of the evening. Staring at the individual in front of him for a second too long, he gave him the most fake smile he could muster, replying simply, "Everything's fine." even if it was anything but fine. He certainly couldn't tell him that he never wanted to hear another word come out of his mouth, or that the place creeped him out so much that he was sure he'd have nightmares for the rest of his life. Or that the group of guys sitting at the table next to them looked at them so wrong every time he used the word gay that he wouldn't be surprised if they ended the night running away from them.

He'd done so many little things to make him uncomfortable that Ezra was wondering if he wasn't doing it on purpose, if he was on some kind of candid camera and if his friends would be coming out of the kitchen any minute, laughing at his misfortunes.

"That's good." resumed Daniel, then took a bite of his sandwich and some sauce, which should have been any other color but the one it was, fell on the table, "Anyway, back to what we were talking about before."

Ezra winced, closing his eyes and trying not to breathe in the awful smell of dirty water that hovered around the place. He didn't want to go back to the conversation from before. He wanted to run away.

"The first time I came out was when I was eight years old and everyone called me names, like I was telling you." Daniel nodded, continuing to chew with his mouth open, and Ezra could only avoid looking at him for a short time before the boy demanded they make eye contact. He'd explicitly asked him several times.

"Oh and then of course the first Gay Pride I went to was only a few years ago, because you know, they don't do any in Velaris and never will, duh." the boy said making an x with his fingers as he shook his head. Ezra chuckled at that gesture, more out of desperation than anything else, and Daniel seemed to take it as an invitation to continue, because he launched into a detailed description of his first time having "gay sex" with someone.

He shut his brain down, planting a tugged smile on his lips and hoping the torture would end soon.

His phone vibrated in his pocket and he pulled it out as Daniel said, "I kissed someone for the first time when I was ten, a boy of course." He jumped from topic to topic with such ease that Ezra struggled to keep up with him and was a little grateful for that.

It was a text from Nia asking him how the date was going and that she and Dara were at the latter's house, waiting for him to ask to pick him up. He typed a reply quickly, offending her in every way possible for putting him in such a situation and begging her to come as soon as possible. He turned off the screen, putting his phone back in his pocket and then leaned back, crossing his arms over his chest and furrowing his brow as his brain perceived the words "blood" and "anal."

A not at all pleasant sensation began to blossom at the pit of his stomach.

He breathed through his nose deeply and regretted it soon after. If he hadn't ended up throwing up that night or dying, he would have given himself a weekend at a spa with the full package, sauna and all that crap and he would have forced Nia to pay for it. It was his friend's fault that he was now in this pathetic situation.

Ezra closed his eyes, trying to calm his thoughts and completely externalize himself from the outside world - something he'd learned to do on long trips to Illyria when his siblings decided to have a tantrum all at once. When Daniel didn't stop for another ten minutes and Ezra vaguely heard the word orgasm, he stood up abruptly, bringing his hands close to his ears in case he didn't stop talking.

Daniel brought one hand to his mouth and the other to his chest, startled by that sudden outburst from him.

"Ezzy..." he murmured, "what's wrong?"

Ezra clenched his hands into fists, closing his eyes. The feeling in the pit of his stomach was intensifying more and more, "Stop calling me that, please." then he stared into his eyes, leaning forward, "I asked you to stop two hours ago. Two hours."

Daniel stared at him open-mouthed, some chewed food was visible and Ezra was forced to turn away, trying to erase the image from his mind, but he heard it anyway when he asked, "Did I do something wrong?"

Ezra huffed out a laugh and the group of older boys, who had been watching them since they entered the fast food restaurant, stared at him with somber expressions, then shifted their gazes to Daniel. He brought his attention back to Daniel in turn and said in a low voice so that no one would hear him, "I'm sorry to have to tell you like this, but there won't be a second date and this one ends here."

He didn't even wait to see Daniel's reaction, grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He shivered in the cold of the city and looked around, lost. He had no idea where he was. He didn't know what part of town that fast food was in, and he couldn't understand how Nia knew the place existed. He walked down the main street, hoping to find something - a store, a bus stop, anything - that would help him figure out where he was.

He had just finished slipping on his jacket when he felt a hand tighten around his wrist and pull hard enough to make him stumble backwards. He didn't even realize he was falling until his back hit the ground and the air rushed out of his lungs so violently that it shocked him. He closed his eyes for a second, trying to catch his breath. Panic didn't have time to make its way through his body that someone was pulling him up by force.

Ezra kicked his feet in the air, looking around, unsure whether to scream for help and trying hard to free himself from the stranger's grasp, when he realized with horror that it was Daniel.

The all too cheerful and bright eyes that had characterized that basic little face until that moment, that had frightened but more than anything else bored Ezra to the point of exhaustion, now shone with a new emotion and he was petrified to realize that he looked like another person entirely. It was anger, pure rage in the boy's pupils.

"Daniel-" he tried to say to get him to let go.

Daniel was still clutching the front of his shirt and shook his head when he said his name, "I don't get it, what is it?" he asked, tilting his head to the side smiling, "You don't like to talk about me being gay because you haven't figured out what you are yet?"

What was wrong with this guy?

Ezra's eyes were wide and he couldn't speak. He was afraid Daniel would hit him.

After all, he didn't know him. He didn't know anything about the person in front of him other than the fact that the only trait in his personality was being gay. He hadn't been able to get anything personal out of him, nothing about what school he attended, nothing about his family, his hobbies.

A sheer, unmitigated terror made its way through his mind as he realized that Daniel could easily have been even much older than he said he was.

"Let me go." murmured Ezra, clasping his hands around his wrists. The only certainty he had at that moment was the fact that Daniel wouldn't be able to pull out any kind of sharp object to hurt him as long as he had his hands on Ezra.

Daniel wasn't that much bigger than him, he was a few inches shorter, but Ezra wasn't the kind of guy who would get into fights and win. No, he wasn't like his brother. He was more the type who got pushed into the fight and ended up with a broken nose because he didn't want to hurt the other guy.

The door to the fast food restaurant opened behind him and he tried hard to block out the shaking of his hands, of his lower lip. He couldn't take his eyes off Daniel's, too scared that if he even moved a finger, the other would snap.

"Everything okay out here?" someone asked, a deep, gravelly voice.

Daniel's eyes snapped over his shoulder and loosened their grip on his shirt. Ezra took the opportunity to push him away. Cursing, he fell backwards again, cushioning his fall with his hands and felt a sharp pain go up his arm. Hissing, he brought the limb to his chest, clutching it with his other hand.

Arms slipped under his shoulders, helping him pull himself up, "Here."

As soon as he was on his feet, Ezra took three steps back, moving away from both men in front of him.

He realized with no small amount of dread that the newcomer was one of the boys who had been watching them all evening. He cursed mentally this time, trying to think his way out of the fucked up situation.

How had he ended up there?

How had he ended up in the ugliest neighborhood in all of Velaris just because he wanted to go on a date?

Daniel was looking at the man now, much bigger and bulkier than the two of them combined, and Ezra heard a bicycle bell ring in the distance.

The heads of all three snapped toward the sound, but the only one who started running toward the two approaching figures was Ezra. He heard Daniel yell his name, but that only prompted him to run faster.

Nia was flailing around, swinging dangerously on her bike, and she didn't seem to notice the condition he was in, because she was smiling like a little girl on Christmas morning, but Dara was.

"Nia, come here." Ezra heard him say even at that distance. The girl must have heard something in her boyfriend's tone too, because she bolted beside him and got off her bike silently. Ezra continued to run at breakneck speed until he was in front of his best friends and got on the bike Nia had just left behind. He ordered them both to take off with short breaths and Dara to pedal as fast as he could before darting off down the road.

The boy in question waited until Nia was safely settled on the rack before turning the bike around and following Ezra down the half-lit street.

What the hell had just happened?

***

"I think we should call aunt Nesta," Nia said, with a grave expression.

Dara shook his head, reaching behind her and resting an arm on the back of the bench, starting to play with a strand of her hair, "She'll riot if she finds out what happened."

Nia looked at him frowning, "So you think we should handle it?"

Dara nodded, reducing his lips to a thin line.

"The us-handling-it ended with Ezra almost getting himself killed," she pointed out to him, "I think we've done enough for tonight."

"Speaking of," Ezra murmured. He sat with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, his eyes closed, convinced that if he opened them he'd start crying. "Where the fuck did you find someone like that?"

A shiver ran through his body and he didn't know if it was because of the memory of Daniel or because they insisted on spending their Saturday nights in the cold backyard of Dara's house.

Nia scratched the back of her neck, "A friend told me she had a friend who was busting her balls because he's been single for too long and he reminded me of someone." she gave him a pointed look and shrugged, "I didn't think he'd be a psycho."

Dara chuckled tiredly and Ezra lifted his head to look at him, "Why are you laughing, that was terrifying." he repeated for the billionth time. "I don't think I'll ever date again."

"Actually as a first date it kinda sucked," mumbled the girl yawning. Erza knew they were both dead tired and it wouldn't make any difference if he stayed over at his aunt Mor's or went back to his house, either way he would find himself alone in a bed. He might as well avoid a sleepless night because of Nia's snoring.

Truth be told, he would have preferred to be cuddled by his sisters, but he would never admit that out loud.

He opened and closed the fingers of his left hand, wincing every time the cut on his wrist joint moved.

Nia was watching him closely, "You should probably disinfect that."

Ezra huffed, closing his eyes and scratching his eyebrow, "I'll do it when I get home."

"Do you want me to call your mother?" she offered, understanding immediately. Dara nodded beside her.

He thought about it and then shook his head, getting up and picking up the phone, "If you call her she'll think I'm dead or something bad happened - which is true," he nodded, dialing Nesta's number, and bringing the device to his ear, "but she doesn't need to know over the phone."

She answered on the first third ring.

"Ezra? What's wrong?" she asked with bated breath.

The boy grimaced, immediately realizing he had interrupted something, and Dara burst out laughing. By now it was common knowledge what his parents did every Saturday night. Even Dara's moms had their Wednesdays after all.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to bother you," he narrowed his eyes, wrinkling his nose, "but, is there any way you could pick me up?"

Nesta didn't answer right away, but Ezra clearly heard the shifting of the sheets and the uncertain movements on the other side of the line and his father asked worriedly, "What happened?"

"I don't know-" Nesta answered him in a muffled voice, then more clearly, "Ezra everything alright? Are you okay?" anxiety lacing her words.

Fuck, this was exactly what he wanted to avoid. Making his parents worry about things that could easily be avoided was perhaps the thing he hated most in the world.

Casting a quick glance at his friends, he replied, "You know what, nothing, nevermind, I'll stay here and be back in the morning, don't worry about it." he tried to fake a smile, even though his mother couldn't see it and Dara scoffed, standing up and nearly knocking over Nia who was leaning on his shoulder, "Pass it to me." he murmured.

Ezra pulled away, reaching an arm out to his friend to hold him back as Dara smiled and reached for his phone.

"Where are you now?" asked Nesta urgently. More frantic movement on the other end of the phone, "I've got you on speaker."

Ezra grunted when Dara jabbed a finger into his ribs, "At aunt Mor's." he let out a giggle when he escaped his friend and started running around the garden, "But don't worry, I'm here with Dara and Nia, I'll be back tomorrow."

"Love, you never called me to pick you up in sixteen years of living," the woman pointed out to him. She heard her father agree with her as he warned her that he would wait for her in the car, "Even if nothing happened, something has to have and I don't want to put unnecessary burdens on Mor or Em. We're on our way." Ezra was about to retort when the beep beep of the call being closed rumbled through the phone.

The boy huffed, stopping his run abruptly, and Dara slammed into him, nearly knocking them both over. They burst out laughing as they pushed and pulled in a non-violent fight.

As they fell on top of each other, starting to tickle each other, Nia snickered from the porch, leaning against the railing, "How nice it is to have a boyfriend who has a boyfriend."

"You love us." both boys shouted, opening their eyes and mouths wide and looking at each other immediately after, "Aah, twins." they said again simultaneously. They burst out laughing and Nia ran a hand over her face, warning them that she was going into the house.

Dara stood up at that point, pushing Ezra away, but he helped him up anyway and they silently joined her, trying not to wake Mor and Emerie who were resting on the couch undisturbed. His friend asked him to warn his mother not to ring the bell, so that she wouldn't wake up his moms, and Ezra smiled and nodded.

Dara was the only child of aunts Mor and Em. He was only a few months younger than Ezra, but had been adopted when he was already two years old. Of course, none of the three could remember a day without the other two, and although Dara and Nia had been together for a few months now - after years and years of banter - the dynamics of the group had never changed.

Although Nia had become a little more possessive now where Dara was concerned, it was never really about jealousy. Ezra was just scared when she took on that stern expression that also characterized her mother Amren and threatened him with death when he accidentally hurt Dara during one of their friendly fights.

They entered the bedroom and Nia was already sprawled out on the mattress like a starfish. A soft snoring sounded in the room and Ezra shook his head, "How is she already asleep?"

Dara didn't answer him, but smiled slightly, looking at the shapeless mass of hair that hid the girl's face. He walked over to the bed, grabbing a blanket from the chair and trying to cover her entirely, but from the position she was in, an arm or leg would always be exposed to the chill air.

Ezra felt his heart tighten in his chest, "You're lucky." he whispered.

Dara snorted, looking up at him with a curled brow, "Don't go soft on me, you know we'll both start crying then." then he turned back to Nia, moving her hair out of her face, "It's also after eleven, if we start talking about this stuff I could seriously cry." an even wider smile made its way onto his lips and a twin one appeared on Ezra's. Plus, if Nia woke up with both of them crying, she wasn't going to let them live it down.

Dara and Nia had come before Cal and Nora, before Nate, Theo, and everyone else. Ezra didn't know what it would be like without them, and he never wanted to find out.

"You know, though, yeah," Dara whispered once they had settled into the bean bag chairs, "we're lucky."

Ezra looked into his eyes, yawning, "Do you think my mom will let me go to sleep without an interrogation?"

Dara grinned, "Are we talking about the same Nesta who kept us up an entire night just because she kept losing at UNO?" he reminded him of that deadly night a few years earlier, "Because I'm sure that a person who is willing to keep three whining babies awake just to win at a stupid game isn't going to let something that relevant go until they get their revenge."

Ezra groaned, closing his eyes, "I don't even know how to approach the subject."

"What part?" Dara then asked, watching him closely, "That you also like boys or that one guy almost smashed your face."

"Not helping." he deadpanned.

"No, but seriously," he pulled his legs up, crossing them underneath him, "I know your whole-" he moved a hand in midair, pointing to Ezra's head, "thinking and I don't want to make you more anxious than you need to be, but what if they don't react like you always thought they would?"

Ezra had thought about this countless times, about how his parents might react to such an admission, but the outcome had never bothered him much. He didn't really conceive the concept of coming out when you were growing up in a family like his. He didn't like the idea of having to specify to his parents that one day he might bring home someone who wasn't a woman.

One of his father's closest friends was a lesbian and her son was sitting across from him. If his parents had any objections to that, they would certainly have told him or talked about it.

He was sure it wouldn't have sparked any reaction in his parents.

"It'll be fine." said Ezra only.

"Definitely." Dara dropped his head back, "So how do you plan to introduce the I-went-out-with-a-crazy-man instead?"

Ezra shook his head, "I don't?"

"I'm serious." the other replied, closing his eyes.

"So am I."

They remained silent, Dara surely having realized Ezra didn't want to talk about Daniel anymore.

"What are you planning on doing for Valentine's Day?" he asked suddenly.

Dara chuckled, "I have a girlfriend now man, we can't go out anymore, you and I."

"You dumbass," Ezra insulted him, "I meant with Nia. Where are you taking her?"

Dara pulled himself up, stretching his arms overhead. The boy couldn't sit still for half a minute. "Actually I think she wants to take me somewhere and I'll let her," he nodded thoughtfully, "Although I'm kind of terrified she's going to take me into the woods and kill me, I'm going to activate the location on my phone so you'll always know where I am."

Ezra didn't laugh, he just nodded. The phone vibrated in his hand and his stomach twisted again.

"We're out." the message from his mother read.

He looked up at Dara and found his friend watching him, who gave him an encouraging smile.

They bid each other goonight with their secret handshake and then Ezra walked out of the room just as Dara lifted Nia and tucked her under the covers, laying down next to her.

***

"Are you going to tell us what's going on or are we going to have to guess?" asked Cassian looking over his shoulder once he was in the car.

They were already halfway home and Ezra had only said hello to them, in a very controlled tone of voice, but his mother had tossed back in her seat and stared into his eyes for what had seemed like hours before shifting her gaze to her husband and saying, "Yeah, something happened."

She had watched him for so long that he couldn't understand how she hadn't seen the bloodstain on his sweatshirt. He pulled up the zipper on his jacket, already thinking about how he could remove the stain from the fabric.

"Can we talk about this tomorrow?" he tried to ask. He was looking out the window, but he could feel both his parents' eyes on him.

"Can you sleep if you don't talk about it, or are you going to be up all night?" asked Cassian again, "Because if it's the latter, I'd rather talk about it now."

Ezra closed his eyes, thinking about what to answer. "Is Andra home?" he asked softly.

Nesta nodded, "She's been asleep for a couple of hours though. She's been playing all day with Fabien and Chelo and was dead tired." she said in a chipper tone, "How come?"

"I'm taking her to my room." he replied only.

His mother turned to him again, this time with a lopsided smile on her face, "It's not like she's a dog."

"Yeah, I know," he smiled back, "but at least I'll sleep better."

"Alright, we'll talk about it tomorrow though," Nesta told him. He merely nodded.

Not even two minutes passed and Cassian asked, "Did you have a fight with Dara?"

Ezra nearly burst out laughing, "No, Dad."

"With Nia?"

"Cass." his mom admonished him.

The man turned to her with a mock confused expression, "What?"

"He told us he'd talk about it tomorrow, stop it."

Cassian huffed, "Fine."

As soon as they arrived home, Ezra said goodnight to both of them and went straight to his room. He slipped off his jacket and got into his pajama pants, grabbing his shirt and heading to the bathroom to try and clean his sweatshirt as best he could.

He remained shirtless as he searched the drawers for cotton wool and wound sanitizer. He gritted his teeth and clenched his hands into fists as he spilled some of the liquid on his cut. It wasn't too long or deep, but it had bled him quite a bit, especially considering he hadn't stopped moving his hand half a second, preventing the skin from healing.

He'd definitely done it to himself when he got free of Daniel, but he hadn't realized he'd hurt himself that badly until he'd gotten to Dara's house and Nia had seen the red stain on his sweatshirt. He cleaned the cut from the dried blood, changing cotton balls after the first one had turned completely red.

He turned on the water, running his entire forearm under it, when the bathroom door opened and his mother's head popped into view. At any other time he would have told her that she had to knock before entering their bathroom, that he might be naked, but upon seeing the color drain from her face, he remained silent.

He turned off the faucet, cupping his hand over his wrist as Nesta entered the bathroom and stared in pure terror at the cotton wool and blood on the sink. He hadn't seen his mother so scared since the day he'd broken his arm.

"Mom..." whispered Ezra, stepping forward, toward her.

"What happened?" she asked bringing a hand to her throat. Then she looked into his eyes, "Did you do it yourself?"

Ezra frowned, confused. Then the shock of what his mother's newly spoken words implied hit him and he shook his head, wincing. "No, god- no mom. I-"

Nesta moved until she was in front of him and gently took his arm, moving his hand from his wrist until she saw the cut and sighed. Whether in relief or otherwise, Ezra didn't know.

"You need to tell me what's going on, and no, you can't go to bed without telling me what you did tonight first," she murmured to him, without looking at his face. She had taken another piece of cotton and was dabbing at his wrist with the gentleness that only a mother with her children could have, checking for soil residue or anything else.

"Nesta?"

Ezra winced when he heard his father's voice calling to her.

Mom looked him in the eye, tossing the wadded up bits, "If you promise me that as soon as you get out of here you'll come talk to us, I'll go out now and let you get ready for the night in peace." she told him.

She was looking at him with so much emotion that Ezra regretted even thinking about lying to her and telling her he just fell off his bike. Besides, if it had been about something so stupid, he would have told her right away and she knew it. So, lowering his gaze to the floor, he nodded, "I promise."

Stepping out, she picked up the clothes Ezra had left on the floor and then he was alone again. He brushed his teeth, thinking about how to deal with this. He grabbed a band-aid from Celia's locker - she used more than anyone else put together because of soccer - and then slipped on his pajama shirt, leaving the bathroom and heading for his parents' room. Halfway down the hallway he turned around and stopped with his hand on the doorknob of his room. He closed his eyes, smacking his forehead against the wood, "Let's do this."

He didn't have time to knock that his parents' door opened and Cassian looked at him differently than he always did, looked at him like he was trying to read his mind. Ezra felt himself blush for the first time in a long time and shifted his gaze to his mother, who was sitting on the edge of the bed and smiling at him.

Ezra slipped into the room, sitting down at the end of the bed. Nesta settled against the bedpost and Cassian sat down, facing the wall. He couldn't see his father's face, but he sensed his concern as waves radiated from his body.

"I had a date tonight." mumbled Ezra playing with the blanket, but keeping his eyes on his mother.

Nesta opened her mouth slightly wide in surprise, then closed it again, composing herself, "Why didn't you tell us?"

"I don't know," he confessed.

"How did it go?" asked Cassian, turning to face him.

Ezra scratched his head, "Bad."

"I'm sorry." his mother told him with as much sincerity in her voice as she could muster. Then she cast a quick glance at his dad and Ezra took a deep breath, bracing himself for what was to come. "How did it get so bad?"

"The other one wasn't exactly sane," he said, brushing the patch with his fingers.

Cassian stiffened and flexed his fingers several times, "Did she do anything to you?"

Ezra felt his heart start to beat a little faster, "He was-" then he stopped, looking at his parents. Neither Nesta nor Cassian seemed the least bit touched by what he'd just said. "He was peculiar."

They waited for him to speak, giving him time to process.

"He immediately started touching me and normally-"

His father interrupted him, "Touching you?" he asked in a low voice.

Ezra had never heard that tone of voice before. He had never seen Cassian's eyes grow so dark, his jaw so taut. Everything in the man's body screamed anger. His mother had pulled herself up straighter and extended a hand toward her husband, as if she needed physical support to deal with such a conversation.

He was quick to specify, "Hugs, he was always trying to find a way to touch my hands, my face, and normally it wouldn't bother me, but it was the first time I'd seen him and god, I don't even know his fucking last name." he didn't bother not to say the bad word. He knew his mother didn't care right then and he needed to vent. Cassian nodded and while Nesta seemed to have relaxed a bit, his father hadn't lost that feeling of hatred that was rippling across his face.

"He talked the whole time about things purely related to the fact that he was gay and he went into detail." he said with wide eyes, "And he demanded that we look at each other while he talked and that made me uncomfortable in no small part and the place he took me to." he shuddered, "It looked like something out of one of those TV shows that Celia always watches about houses full of trash."

Nesta crossed her arms over her chest, with a worried gaze, "Why didn't you call me? I would have come right away."

Ezra looked at her, shaking his head, "I thought about it, but I had arranged with Nia and Dara that they would pick me up with their bikes and I texted Nia and-"

He paused to catch his breath.

"As soon as he said the word orgasm I got up and told him I didn't want to see him anymore and left."

Cassian nodded, "You did the right thing." he told him resting a hand on his ankle, "With these people you never know what can happen-"

Nesta interrupted him, "How did you get the cut?"

His dad frowned and turned to her, but Nesta was just watching Ezra as she bit her lip, growing more and more agitated.

He closed his eyes, sighing, "I fell."

"Yeah, but how?"

He remained silent, trying to find a way to tell the story from the beginning without his parents losing years of their lives before he could finish telling.

"Ezra." his father murmured, tightening his grip on his ankle.

He took a deep breath and tried to say it all at once before they could interrupt him, fixing his eyes on the seams of his pajamas, "He followed me outside and grabbed my arm, but I fell backwards. He grabbed me by my jacket and when I managed to get free again I must have fallen on a rock or something sharp because I hurt my hand." his voice was shaking at the end of the sentence and he hadn't realized how striking it had actually been for him. "Some guy came out of the fast food restaurant and distracted Daniel and I ran. I found Nia and Dara on their bikes and we rode home." then he wrinkled his brow, "I've already blocked his number and his every social account." he added under his breath. When he looked up at his parents, he felt tremendous guilt. Nesta had a hand over her mouth and her eyes slightly glazed over. He could see all kinds of emotions battling there: anger, apprehension, panic, worry. He could see how much it was costing her not to leave that house and go find Daniel on her own.

Cassian had sprung to his feet and was now pacing back and forth between the closet and the bathroom, hands crossed behind his head as he took deep breaths.

Ezra didn't know what to do. They had broached the subject of relationships many times before, there was no reason why they should have to explain to him why everything that had happened was wrong and that it wasn't normal, that it wasn't his fault. He knew.

"Are you okay?" his mom asked him.

He nodded, "I didn't want to tell you tonight because we're all tired, tomorrow morning would have been better." then he shifted his gaze to his dad, "I'm sorry, dad."

Cassian froze, letting go of a trembling breath as he shook his head. He sat down next to his son, wrapping his arms around him and holding him to his chest. Ezra melted into the embrace, wrapping his arms around him in turn.

"You don't have to apologize for anything," he murmured to him. He pulled away just enough to look into his eyes. Then he shook his head again, "I'm sorry you didn't tell us about the date and I'd appreciate it if in the future you would."

"Yeah," Nesta indulged him, moving around on the mattress until she was next to them and could place a hand on his face, "we don't care who you go out with, but at least know where you're going so that if something happens we know where to come get you."

Ezra nodded.

Then Nesta opened her arms and he released herself from his father's grasp to find comfort in his mom's.

"I'm sorry, love." she whispered to him.

Ezra shrugged, saying in a muffled voice, "Don't worry, I'm fine."

And he was indeed fine.

He felt his father's hand caressing his back and they stayed there for a while longer, while Nesta and Cassian exchanged a look full of emotions and worries, but also of relief because the evening could have ended in a completely different way.

It wasn't until the next day that they would ask him if he wanted to press charges and how it would all play out should he decide to continue, only after they had talked about it a whole night between the two of them.

In the meantime, Ezra would come out of their room after saying goodnight to them for the second time and crawl into Andra's bed, where the little sister would immediately attach herself like an octopus to his neck and where they would fall asleep peacefully hugging.

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[hanmajoerin]

A/N: Did I show up twenty years too late for Ranma 1/2 fanfiction? Probably. Do I give a shit? N O P E. Someone left a tag on one of my Ranma posts saying that Ranma and Akane were a matching set of idiots and I just wanted to explore that. I’m here to try my hand at bringing them to life, keyword: try. Nobody does humor like Takahashi does.

Summary: A collection of drabbles and one-shots where Ranma tries his best to be a supportive husband on Akane’s cooking journey. Post!Cannon, in a faraway future where the world is still whacky but the kids grew up.

Chapter Summary: Ranma Saotome, 22 years old. He’s been the husband of Akane Saotome for two years, but they’ve known each other way longer. His goal? Buy enough antacids to pillow the upcoming blow of his wife’s meal to “celebrate” having the dojo to themselves. Short term damage: stomach ache for the whole weekend. Long term damage: at least six months shaved off of his life.

II AO3 II Fanfiction.net II

Chapter 1: Antacids

“Shucks...” Ranma mumbled to himself, pilfering through the medicine cabinet for the fifth time in the past three minutes. There was an avalanche of first aid kits, unraveled bandage wraps, and a few stray Band-Aids that fluttered around as he continued searching. What a rookie mistake, he mentally admonished with a sigh. Antacids became a staple of his diet as a grown man, so it wasn’t too surprising that his stock was depleted, but he’d known this weekend was coming.

Creeping out into the hallway, Ranma took care to tread on the balls of his feet. If he tried–really tried–he’d leave without Akane noticing. That would be for the best. As he made it to the entryway, the martial artist dared sniffing the air. The regret was instantaneous and he scrambled to bury his mouth in the crook of his elbow. Ranma hoped the trusty red shirt would be enough to muffle his unstoppable coughing fit, but he’d been sneaking out. Everything was so much louder when a person was attempting to go unnoticed. He leaned back onto the wall to steady himself. Whatever Frankenstein creation Akane was whipping up was unidentifiable. And, it already had the potential to send him flying from the Tendo and Saotome Residence to a hospital bed.

“Ranma, where are you going?” Akane asked, stepping out into the hall and wiping her hands on his apron. The man in question felt his spine straighten, his shoulders tensing so far they touched his ears. Over the years, Ranma put blood, sweat, and tears into convincing his wife that instant ramen was her deal and home cooked meals were his. But, as luck would have it, she still experimented when the opportunity presented itself. An opportunity like a husband and a wife having the entire home for the entire weekend entirely to themselves. She wanted to celebrate... Ranma blanched. There would be nothing to do after he knocked back that disastrous medley of a meal except for curl into the fetal position and let his organs writhe in agony.

“Uh, j-just to the store. Realized I need to uh... get some nails for the roof!” He lied, but Akane was in such a good mood that she hadn’t sensed the hesitation, hadn’t heard the hitch in his voice.

“Could you pick up some jalapeno peppers for me while you’re out?” She asked with that smile that could send him to his knees in the best way but now left them quivering in the worst.

Don’t run for the camping packs, don’t grab the backpacks in Pop’s room, don’t think about how they’re already stuffed with supplies to flee from Akane’s fever drea–

“Ranma?”

Ranma swore his life was flashing before his eyes. He gulped, big. I think I just remembered the first time I took a breath. “Uh, yep, I’ll pick it up for you.”

He’d buy his wife a bell pepper. A green sweet pepper. She wouldn’t know the difference. After all, nine out of ten times she couldn’t even tell heads or tails from motor and vegetable oil.

“It’s for us!”

“Oh, oh man...” Ranma mumbled before squaring his feature into focus and offering his wife what had to be an unsettling smirk. Not that she bothered to analyze it. “I’ll be back!” He announced, offering her a parade caliber wave after he slid on his black flats.

“Take care,” Akane said, turning back to the kitchen.

-x-

The bite of winter snuck through his blue jacket and Ranma shivered. Guess it was better for winter to nip at him than whatever was simmering at home. The martial artist shoved his hands into his pants pocket, kicking at the sidewalk as he made his way to the nearest convenience store. “Aw geez, why’d I have to fall for a tomboy who cooks like Ryoga reads a map?” He grumbled, knowing that his excellent skills in the dojo could never help him dodge Akane’s cooking.

Of course, he hadn’t been expecting an answer, but the universe always seemed to be listening. The light of the 7-11 sign was his answer. It felt like salvation. Ranma’d storm in there and clear the entire shelf of its antacids, splurge now so he’d never have to come back. That was his fever dream.

When the bell tolled, signaling his entrance, Ranma swore he’d found nirvana. The martial artist beelined to the small produce freezer first, sighing in relief at the sight of a single bag of mini-peppers. They were illuminated perfectly under the lights, and sure, they didn’t match the color of a jalapeño, but they were close enough in size. Akane probably wouldn’t think anything of it. Ranma greedily snatched them up into his hands. Nirvana, salvation, and now a living Buddha. The gods came through for once.

Next, his feet walked him to the antacids. Ranma visited this place so often, he knew the isle they were in by heart now. Although he promised to buy out the store’s supply, Ranma resisted the urge and picked up three bottles instead. If Akane saw him walking in with so many all at once, he’d have to grit his teeth and eat dinner without knocking ‘em back. Akane wasn’t below that kind of stunt. Ranma shook his head.

“Good evening,” the cashier stated as Ranma all but slammed his items onto the checkout counter. The kid looked sharp enough. Skinny, brown eyes, black hair. The lucky bastard probably never ate a burnt piece of toast let alone an entire fiesta of flavors that somehow tasted the way painful was spelled. “Heartburn bad lately?” He asked, naively.

Ranma clenched his fist, closing his eyes and letting a rogue tear fall. “Listen pal, my wife and I’ve got the house to ourselves this weekend. You’ve never had her cooking and you don’t want to.” Ranma reached below the counter and threw an extra travel sized bottle of antacids onto the counter for extra measure.

The cashier blinked a few times, making Ranma scowl. He knew it. Pulling out his wallet, the cashier quickly bagged his items. “I’m so sorry to hear that. Your total is 4,237 yen.”

Ranma placed the money into the styrofoam tray, more tears filling his eyes. They glistened like dew under the harsh yellow lights. “These might not even be enough to save me.”

[ushiwakaout]

WARNINGS: age gap, student x teacher (platonic then romantic) SPOILERS FOR MANGA CHAPTERS 280+

probably really bad spelling

Ok bitches, it’s midnight and my mind is ROLLING.

This obviously has to do with bakugo. I’m a bakugo kinny so don’t @ me plz.

I really do be thinking that he’d fall in love with his teacher. But like let me explain.

You’re one of his teachers but you aren’t a hero, 100% a vigilante bc you don’t believe in the Hero morals bc you think they are a little twisted. You’re the only teacher in UA who’s not a “real” hero, personally i think Aizawa is a vigilante bc in the beginning we see that he doesn’t like Toshinori and i think it has to do with his Hero ways.

ANYWAYS, getting out of pocket here.

After the UA festival you have a big soft spot for bakugo and midoriya (especially bkg but don’t tell deku). One day he accidentally fell asleep in class bc he’s been having nightmares and you notice. Ofc you do- he’s basically your kid smh. You don’t even bother to wake him and you threaten the ones who try, especially denki and mineta. Your quirk revolves around blood manipulation but u can make it into a physical form (i guess like elsa but w blood/ u can manipulate not just yours) So when they try to wake up bakugo you just put two scary blood creatures beside them and they threaten them for you. If class is over and he’s still asleep, deku looks a little worried but you pat his shoulders and let him know it’s okay.

not you waking him up with a blood figure bc your scared of him 😔 just a lil

he obviously wakes up startled with the blood beside him, unknown to you, it reminded him of the Sludge villain. you rush to his side and start to apologize, stroking his hair but he just slaps your hand away. He’s not used to this type of affection. “Bakugo.... Are you sleeping alright?” He obviously doesn’t crack under the first attempt and decided to leave, calling you an old hag nun the less. He’s muttering “Why should you care?” and “Mind your business old hag.” Mind you, youre only like 7 years older than he is. (Bakugo is 16, aka the oldest of the class making you 23, one of the youngest teachers too) You only stop him seconds before he’s out the door to let him know that he can talk to you when he wants to. Obviously flips u off bc he doesn’t see you like an elder like Aizawa or All Might.

The fourth time Bakugo is distracted or falls asleep, he slips up. You wake him after Iida complained to you about not waking him up, low key threaten him too- u know that he almost murdered stain 💀 shuts him right up. You stroke his hair this time, trying to be gentle and not startle him like last time. You ask if he’s okay again and that’s when he slips up, “Just nightmares n stuff...” He is NOT fully awake or conscious, so he kinda frazzled up again and we are back to our regular program of Bakugo barking in your face to mind your business. But you don’t expect him to say thank you right before he walks out the door. You’re like ????? that’s new.

It’s probably the last time bakugo falls asleep is when he starts developing a crush on you. You run your hands through his hair again and he kinda rubbed into it like a cat being pet behind the ears. Both of you are like 👁👄👁

He BOLTED. No way he had just developed a crush on his teacher. No fucking way. Try’s to distance himself from you. Doesnt sleep in you class anymore. Doesnt ask you for your help or anything. You don’t mind since it seems like he’s getting by better than he was before.

But when he gets captured by the LOV and youre at camp w aizawa as extra help and you don’t see bakugo back with the rest it’s like a piece of your heart was ripped out. ( BTW in this point in time the feelings you have for bakugo ARE NOT ROMANTIC, it’s kinda like Eri and Aizawa situation, you unintentionally took bakugo under your wing and care for him a little bit more than the rest)

You don’t sleep until you find him. You’re at the press conference and you’re blood begins to boil when they said bakugo would become a villain. You spoke over Aizawa “I can assure you that you can drop those theories and accusations of my student. Bakugo Katsuki is talented and strong willed. What you saw during the festival was a mier fragment of who he really is. He’s a good kid who wants to be the number one hero one day... he wouldn’t give that up to be a villain.”

“And how do you know this fire sure, (hero/name)”

“I know my student better than anyone.”

When you hear that Midoriya, Iida, Momo, Kirishima and Todoroki went on a rescue mission to save Bakugo- you freak out. You paced all night until All might won the battle against AFO. Shota called you in the middle of the night to let you know that Bkg was gonna be in the hospital for the night. You rushed over there and once again your blood began to boil- you overheard the converstantion with him and his mother. Her calling him weak. What kind of mother was she?

you purposely walked in, “Oh sorry... You must be the Bakugos, I’m H/N- his teacher.” Mitsuki shook your hand and so did Masaru. You guys chatted a little before they left. “Your fathers such a sweet guy... how’d he end up with your mom?” Bakugo chuckled, “Old hag basically jumped on him at work.” You two chuckled together.

A very long chat between you too happened. More on how he was feeling and how you worried about him. At this point Bakugo knew that he could confide in you... He looked down at his lap and he began to sniffle. Something you where NOT expecting. “It’s all my fault... All might lost his power because of me... Becahse i was weak.” You heart ached for him UGH. Taking his hand in his, “Bakugo you are not weak... You’re the strongest kid I know. This isn’t your fault. If anything it’s mine... I couldn’t protect you kids fast enough... I’m sorry.” Caressing his cheeks. “It’s getting late. Get some sleep bakugo.” Youre about to let go of his hands but his grip gets tighter. “Don’t make me say it old hag.” He mutters before you chuckle a little and sit back down. You fall asleep you head on the edge of his bed, still in your chair while he finally began to drift to sleep. Your hand now in his.

When he figured out Deku’s secret he has one condition. “We tell L/N”

Deku’s like ??? “You mean H/N??? But kacchan!”

“No buts deku! We tell L/N or i tell everyone.”

“All Might! Do something!”

“I trust her”

“HA! Stupid deku!”

Bakugou’s kinda excited to tell you while y’all have tea and discuss Deku’s quirk but your sipping your tea when they tell you and your like “Oh, yeah i kinda figured that out myself... You guys are really bad at hiding a secret.” Bakugo calls the irresponsible and the rest is history 💀

Also you side intern w a 1-B student Shiozaki bc y’all have manipulation quirks and he gets mad jealous 💀💀 also hates that u intern w Vlad King and hang out w Hawks WAY TOO MUch

If he’s ever around you guys and Hawks starts flirting OH MAN bakugou with start to bark.

Hawks is the first person to notice his crush and he tells you and your like “Pft BAKUGOU?? You’re crazy!” but then you low key begin to notice small things that you didn’t before and your like oh- Oh shit.... this ain’t good

“Bakugo, have lunch with me will you?”

Denki and mineta make dirty jokes and you slap both of them w your shadows before the exit class.

You’re both mid into your bento box as you just blurt it out “Do you fancy me Kacchan?” yes u intentionally call him kacchan bc he chokes on the spici bento u made him. “Oh wow... hawks was right...”

“WHAT DID THAT BIRD BRAIN TELL YOU”

“Just told me you had a crush on me... Didnt believe him until now...” You eat a little more bento and just put it down bc ur don’t like the tension in the room. “Bakugo you know nothings going to happen between us right? You’re my student and i care about you. I obviously favor you but that’s all it’s gonna be.”

“Watch your mouth old hag. I’m 18 in two years, let’s see if i don’t come back and bite you in the ass.”

you burst out laughing and he just barks at you for laughing at him. “You will not my dear bakugo. Unless you graduate top of your class, turn 21 and make an image for yourself, then we’ll talk.”

“Mmm i promise ima gonna follow you till u love me too, L/N.”

“you’re disgusting, eat your bento.”

SPOILERS FOR MANGA CHAPTER 280 and ONGOING

You’re horribly injured. Gashes and blood spilling from your wounds as you watch Midoriya fight a battle alone with Shigaraki. Bakugo is sitting you up between his legs, making sure you don’t pass out. Your blood isn’t regenerating your wounds like it usually would. Your body has its limits and you’ve almost passed them.

But when Aizawa goes out cold, Deku claims Nanas float quirk, it’s up to you and Endevor to keep everyone safe, even if your body is screaming at you to sleep and rest.

There’s a moment when you see bakugo look at you when he sees that his child hood friends is in grave danger. “Don’t... BAKUGO!” He’s already in the air and your blood whips aren’t fast enough to move them. Shigaraki is faster and pieces through his chest and abdomen... It’s like you could feel it. “NO!!BAKUGO!!!” Everyone around you can hear the horror in your voice as you push yourself up in the air w the rest of your energy and catch him in your arms before anyone else does, but your body feels limp, luckily enough Todoroki Shoto is seconds behind you and catches the both of you safely.

At this point you can’t even tell who’s blood is on your hands. “You idiot.... Damn it ... Hey, hey you’re alright, look at me Bakugo. You can’t leave me too kid.” If it weren’t for your regeneration you’d probably be passed out the way he is right now. “We’re gonna get you to safety alright.... You gotta keep your promise... as stupid as it is.”

The second your feet step into a medical, everyone is looking at the both of you in horror. You tears a falling onto him and you just look like a tired mess. “Please take him. No- No not me, him! He needs help not me, please.” The doctors are quick and they try to help you but you keep screaming that it’s bakugo that needs help and when he’s not in your arms anymore and you see him getting the help you need that’s when your body collapses into the arms of a doctor.

Once everything is over and everyone is safe. You’re the last one out of the group who wakes up, which frightens bakugo. He’s in his room and he’s nagging you at his nurse to let him see you (your legit a curtain over) but she keeps saying that you need rest and blah blah. “Let the kid in nurse.” You croak and bakugo almost falls off his bed to get to you.

he regrets his decision. you look pissed. “You could have died.” was the first thing you tell him when you see him. “Do you know how selfish that was Bakugo? You could have died in my arms? Did you even think about that-

“My body moved in it’s own...”

*silence*

“I had to do something...”

You start tearing up, “get over here you stupid pomeranian.”

After that you watch Bakugo from afar, you give up you job in UA. You felt unworthy to have that position especially when you couldn’t save your student for the second time. Sometimes bakugo calls you and ask where you are while he’s on a grocery run. “I’m a lot closer than you think Kacchan, now get home safely, it’s getting dark.” You hang up in him and follows him back to UA, making use he’s fine.

This goes on for two year until he graduates. He’s taking pictures with his friends and aizawa gives him a box. “What is this?” he shrugs. “She just dropped it off.” He walks away leaving bakugo confused.

He opens the box and it’s a picture of you and him that Toshinori may have taken while you laughed together eating your bento. Behind the picture, there’s ink w your hand writing “give it back in 3 years” and inside there’s ring hanging on a necklace, he chuckles while reading the next note “p.s i’m not proposing. i just want something else to look forward to other than your presence”

“stupid hag.” he mutters before pulling the necklace over his head and tucking it into his graduate uniform. his hand is over the necklace and you see his smile from the top of the UA roof. When he looks up, he sees you. You smile softly and disappear when he blinks- he was afaid that would happen.

the next three years go by a lot quicker than he realizes. He’s interning under the agency you created w hawks but your no where to do seen. You’re never. in office.

and when april 20th hits, it’s the first time people see you in the office in three years and you go directly to Bakugos cubicle. You place a white box in front of him and smile “Happy birthday Dynamight.” His eyes widen when he locks eyes with you. Your hair is different, you look more like a woman than you did 5 years ago. he’s speechless and u just chuckle and roll your eyes. “My necklace, Kacchan.”

“I want my birthday present first.”

“What are you talking about, the box is your present now hand over my neck-“

“that’s not what i’m talking about.”

“the what-”

all eyes are on you two when pulls you into a kiss that he’s been holding onto for five years. “This necklace is mine now, just like you are. I promised you didn’t i?”

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [x-x] [6] [7] [8-9] [10]

PART 4 – Coping

Qrow isn't exactly the intimidating uncle so much as he is the nervous older friend. Sure, he comes in with cheek and swagger, but he hesitates sometimes and watches what he says. Things are uncomfortable for a while.

Jaune and Qrow are sitting alone on the sofa, eyes passed the TV and out the window. Jaune breaks the silence and asks him how he knew. Qrow, surprisingly, explains that he turned into a bird and followed them home. He fully intended to leave when they got into the door but then he overheard the bit about Ruby going missing so he sat by the window and waited for updates.

He fell asleep on the windowsill.

Yang's moaning woke him up.

Both men don't even dare look each other in the eye. They both agree not to bring that up with her for as long as they live.

It's minutes later after they've both taken a swig from their flasks that Qrow asks, "So what are you two?"

"I don't know," he answers; almost apologetic. Almost fearful, but not of Qrow. "We're close and trying to… forget things."

"Yeah, I can see that." Qrow takes another swig. "Tell me, is this about Tai and Rae?"

"More than a little, yeah."

"Those two idiots aren't the least bit careful anymore… I'm sorry she's lumping it onto you. If I'd done better, none of this would have happened."

"I don't mind just listening to her."

"I know. It's the fact that she has to go through it at all… She's still in school. Distractions are dangerous when you're still fresh on the hunt."

Jaune laughs. "She's been doing this for years. If anything, I'm the one that's still green."

"You runts don't get to be proper huntsmen unless you've faced a real, proper threat or graduated. To a licensed huntsman, there's a reason why you're all still in-training. All the glory and shit is the stuff you gotta revel in while you're still in the safety of these halls instead of roughing it in the wilds day after day, facing odds stacked against you."

Qrow is amicable, asking only that he doesn't also seduce Ruby. Jaune's confusion is answer enough. He's no Casanova. He isn't Taiyang. Qrow has it that he believes men like him are unprepared as partners and fathers. Jaune disagrees, saying that his own father was like Tai. To him, any man can work their way into being a proper partner.

They talk about it for long enough that Yang stumbles back into the apartment. She hopes Qrow hasn't spilled any embarrassing stories about her.

They're deftly quiet at that.

-0-

Yang doesn't stay long (it isn't like she spends every weekend with him after all), but she lingers at the door. She hears their muffled voices through the gaps but she doesn't strain her ears to decipher them. She isn't here to eavesdrop.

She hears them laugh. Briefly, she wonders if even Qrow knows Jaune more than she does.

Breathing evenly, she calms the fiery doubts and walks off.

-0-

"What are your intentions?" Qrow asks an hour later, once he's sure Yang is long gone because of course he knows when she's there.

"We didn't sleep together."

Qrow winces at the thought of them. Then it's so deeply uncomfortable that his whole body shudders. "Ah, god, fuck! Damn it, kid, I don't want to think about you two naked! How would you feel if I shared my stories with you!"

Jaune, similarly, melts down at the thought.

Yang actually comes back because she forgot Ember Celica. She hears them freaking out through the door and pivots into the other direction. Blake asks about her bracelets. Yang says it isn't important right now.

-0-

Jaune and Qrow sip their flasks at the same time. They joke about it.

When it's quieter, Qrow can see in his eyes that he wants to ask something so he encourages him to.

Jaune, with an uneasy breath, asks what Qrow is always drinking to forget.

Turns out, he doesn't drink to forget. Drinking is when he does the most thinking, actually.

Drinking is a hobby. Less a recreational drug and more a medicinal one. "Confused? Let me explain…" He doesn't recommend it but he's built up such a tolerance for it before he even went to be Beacon as a kid that it's all basically like water to him. Alcohol isn't his coping mechanism, but he confesses that he does technically have one if it can be called that.

He lost an old friend a long time ago and he isn't sure if his semblance is to blame. The thought has haunted him since. Grief mixed so deeply with poisoned guilt has made him obsessed with loneliness.

He enjoys the quiet nights sitting alone at home, eying the moon, dreaming of what ifs. He enjoys sitting in meadows, letting Summer heat hold him like a familiar embrace. He enjoys hunting solo and coming out on top, all in her name. It's proof that, even in death, she's still the best partner he ever had.

Alcohol is normalcy. It's where he thinks the most clearly, acts the most boldly, acts like himself. Being sober unsettles his mind, makes him act irrationally.

Somehow it makes sense. He always did seem the more sober man when he's got a flask in his hand. Even subconsciously, Jaune realizes that he's made that his gospel.

Qrow warns that it certainly isn't the same way with Jaune. (Jaune knows, of course. His tolerance is likely as weak Ruby's might be.) But Qrow confesses to being more worried about what he might do if he drinks too much. He saw all the whiskey in the fridge.

"I'm not going to hurt Yang. I stop myself from going too far."

"I don't mean Yang. She can handle herself around you, I'm sure." Qrow shows him a photo on his scroll. "This is what I'm worried about."

Jaune reels. He feels a few things. Mostly anguish, discomfort. Saphron and Terra are in Vale.

"When was this?"

"This morning. I thought they'd show up today and that I could be your convenient alibi for having an occupied guest room once they dropped in, but it looks they're busy doing whatever it is they're actually supposed to be doing in the city."

"They're going to come by eventually. Even if not today then…"

"I can't stay, kid," Qrow says, cautiously, quietly. "You facing them is just as inevitable as their visit. I'm no good at this stuff but... my advice: Don't run."

-0-

Yang comes back to Jaune sat at the sofa, staring at a movie he isn't watching. Yang turns it off and when the screen buzzes into silence, Jaune finally realizes she's in the room.

He doesn't notice the many bags she brought with her.

When she asks what's going on, he tells her that Terra is in town.

Yang asks if Saphron is with her.

He realizes that he forgot to mention his own sister.

Yang takes his hand and leans into his side. "It's that bad, huh?"

His free hand pulls out the now empty flask. "I might need more than the watered down whiskey."

She sits on his lap and pushes his flask away. "Get drunk on me." Her eyes are half-lidded and pleading, a promise etched into the wetness of her lips and heat rolling off her breath.

He does what she asks.

They press together so closely that he feels another one of inhibitions snap.

That night he decides – without really thinking about why – to steal a kiss while she sleeps. He realizes that the gesture is far too affectionate than it should be but can't bring himself to regret it.

She was awake the whole time.

-0-

PART 5 – Accommodation

Yang fixates on the kiss. Not that it's changed how she feels or how she's going to feel, only that she wonders what's changed for him with her. She finds herself lingering on his silhouette in bed, paying attention to subtleties in his tone, the way he moves around her or if he catches himself saying anything he wants to say but can't.

And all she's found in mapping him out is that he's no different from before.

Blake tells her that it could mean any number of things. Weiss maintains that it has to be burgeoning love. Ruby, much to their surprise, tells them that it was probably a moment of weakness and that he probably still doesn't know what it means.

The girls – Pyrrha included – suggest that Ruby is probably right. But Yang finds herself unwilling to accept it. She isn't one for sitting still. So instead of deferring to their wisdom… she hatches a plan.

It falls apart immediately.

-0-

Lingerie is her first idea, a vibrant red with thin enough material to tear off with ease. Scented candles to fill the spaces, lighting the bed and the nightstands while drowning the rest in dark. A nice ambient drone off the speakers in another room just to fill any silence. And makeup, the kind that layers thick and she feels physically on her face but comes recommended from Coco's article on a magazine.

She calls up Pyrrha to coach her on it, but the girl only blinks at her beyond the digital lense and asks, "Do you want him to sleep with you or fall in love?"

At first, Yang is confused until she takes a good hard look at herself in the mirror and… doesn't recognize who's looking back at her.

"I don't know," she says honestly. She smiles placatively and hangs up. Pyrrha knows she'll figure it out, but Yang has to first get rid of the mess she's made in his bedroom. Everything else will follow after.

She tosses the heels in the bin (they were cheap anyway), rips off her stockings, and covers up the rest in a bath robe. She tries to wash off the makeup but it smears and will take longer than she has time for. She tries too frantically to get the candles out and accidentally sets fire to one of his chairs – she ends up violently launching it into the tiled shower wall and leaves the shower running.

Finally was the music wafting in from the living room, playing off her scroll. She's already halfway into the living room when the front door opens. She freezes in place just as Jaune is letting in his guests, Saphron and Terra.

Yang doesn't know Saphron, not really, but there's a mutual trust between them when the older girl runs over to her, takes her by the wrist, and drags her back into Jaune's room.

Minutes later, Saphron is dabbing some solution on her cheeks. The makeup comes off in clumps – some semblance of relief comes with them.

"I'm Yang," she says suddenly.

Saphron's bemused smile banishes any tension she has left. Yang already embarrassed herself and not much could make it worse at this point when your first impression is half naked in the living room. She'd also spied the lingerie but she'd thankfully neglected to mention the familiar strap peeking off her shoulder.

"Saphron," she says but says no more. She focuses on the task at hand and Yang quiets with her. Then Saphron starts humming. It's familiar, as if carved out of a chapter in her life that she can hardly remember. Suddenly it's clear that this woman is a mother.

"My brother mention me a lot?" Saphron asks.

"He tries not to but can't help it. You always manage to come up in his stories to curb his nonsense. You'd be a punchline if the stories were supposed to be funny."

"Tends to happen." Saphron winks. "Us older sisters have to butt in all the time."

"He told you about me and Ruby?" She wasn't expecting to come up in conversation.

"No… I can just tell." Another smile. More secretly knowing. And she is briefly afraid that all her secrets have already been laid bare. "He told me you were his roommate."

"Ah." A safe descriptor. She'd been expecting a cover story like being his live-in girlfriend. She'd even prepared the lines and a backstory. It's a small a comfort that doesn't have to go through that.

Saphron pouts for a moment before her eyes turn devilish. "He also mentioned that you two share a bed and make out." Yang blinks at her. Her confusion also confuses Saphron. Isn't that supposed to be embarrassing? "Is… was he wrong?"

"Uh… no. That's exactly it. I guess I just wasn't expecting the truth."

"And you really aren't sleeping together?" Saphron peels the gown off her shoulder and tugs at the bra strap. Yang yelps when it snaps back into place. "With an outfit like this?"

"It was a lapse in judgement." She gestures to herself. "I swear this isn't how I normally am. I don't think I'll ever put on something like this ever again."

"Hm… a honeymoon might change your mind, but let's not dwell on that. You've got scented candles in the corner and I can smell…" – she sniffs the air – "burnt wood from the bathroom? What led to all this?"

"I'm… not sure I should say."

Saphron takes Yang's hands in hers. "You don't have to tell me, but it feels like you're struggling with something all on your own."

"I'm not, actually," she admits sheepishly. "I just didn't take anyone's advice. I don't like the idea of waiting for something to happen when I can already do something about it."

"There is value in patience."

"I don't think waiting is my problem. I think I'm just too proactive to do nothing."

"My brother leave you hanging or something?"

"Kind of? … I've said too much already."

"Or not enough." She smiles in that way again. As if knowing. "But I won't pry. I know that sometimes it's better to wait and come to your own conclusions. Right or wrong, a decision you make yourself stays with you and sometimes that's more valuable than being handed the keys to the castle."

"You really think highly of Jaune, don't you?"

"Hm? What makes you say that?"

"I've never heard someone describe the way to someone's heart as 'keys to a castle'."

Saphron gives her a catty cheek. "Oh, so you are in love with him." But she is surprised again when Yang doesn't blush.

She shrugs instead, looking away. Not out of embarrassment but to eye her own fragmentary reflection on the corner of the vanity's mirror. "I wouldn't know. I've never been in love before."

"But… you're so pretty."

"So is Jaune. So is my sister. And all but one of my roommates have never even kissed anyone before coming to Beacon. It isn't like we don't have time to fall in love, it's just not always our biggest concern. They drill it in you early that staying alive out there should be your priority." She eyes the bra strap on her shoulder in the mirror, hates what it represents, what it almost made her do. She pulls up the sleeve again, hiding it away, and she almost looks like herself. "I think that's why I like being around him. He doesn't pass judgement on whether not my problems are big or small. He just knows they're important to me and lets me be heard."

"Is being a good listener what you look for in a partner?"

"It might." She laughs. "It's hardly an extensive list, though, isn't it?"

Saphron huffs, settling herself comfortably beside her and dusting off her skirt. "Lists are overrated. Not that you shouldn't have standards, but if you want to extensively checklist every potential partner, you'll end up with a growing criteria less and less people will be able to fill. And trust me, I've lived a storied life – been dating people since I was fifteen – and I've found that it's easier to talk to people and let things click. Hell, I wasn't even trying to flirt with Terra when we first met. She was the wingwoman to the girl I was actually trying to get with and we just happened to get along better."

"Sounds like quite the story."

"Why don't I tell you over dinner? It'd be a nice little preamble to me and Terra. I suspect we'll be meeting quite often in the near future."

"I guess I will be tagging along with Jaune if you really want me to."

"If I really want you to? You sound a little meek there," Saphron teases. "Jaune described you as the kind of girl with confidence to rival a peacock. Was my brother wrong or are you just starting to sound like him?"

"Hey, I don't…! Oh shit, you're right."

"Fair tradeoff, I suppose. Jaune's got peacock confidence now and I guess you're to blame."

"Ha! No, I can't take credit for that. Pyrrha – his ex – I'm sure she's your culprit."

"We've met. Jaune brought her over last year before they started dating. Wasn't even going to take her to the dance, the little dunce."

"Oh, but they hooked up that night! After they both showed up stag and he tore up the dance floor in a dress."

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screamed, her eyes lighting up with mischief Yang realizes she's just armed her with.

A knock at the door. "Everything alright in there?" Jaune asks, muffled through the mahogany.

"We're fine!" Yang says.

"Peachy, little brother," Saphron adds with a flare of sarcasm, "but you're going to regret keeping secrets from me."

"Yang!" Jaune screeches, panicked. "What did you tell her?"

Yang laughs, hearty and comfortable with Saphron snickering beside her. It almost feels right, like it's something that always should have been, and she wonders why she was ever so afraid. "What you should have told her! You know you can't keep secrets from big sisters!"

"Oh really? I can promise you that there are secrets Ruby hasn't told you."

Yang shot up from her seat. "What!?"

Saphron sits back. "Aren't you two lively…" she whispers.

"I'm no snitch, Xiao Long!" Jaune shouts, snark clear in his voice.

"You'll fess up one way or another!" Yang, in her excitement, marches to the door.

Saphron bolts out of her place and grabs her arm. "You're still underdressed," she says calmly, belying the panic quickened in her chest.

Yang looks down at herself. She's showing a little cleavage too with the loosened bath robe. She takes an extra step back for good measure and clutches the lapels closed.

"C'mon. You're looking a little too comfortable now. Let's find you something modest." Saphron tugs her towards the closet.

"Backing down already?" Jaune said in what – to him – was a moment of silence.

"I'll get you yet, Vomit Boy!" Yang jeers.

Saphron perks up. "Vomit Boy?"

Jaune groans behind the door. "Yang!"

Yang, despite the grin tugging at her cheeks, silently promises to make it up to him later.

-0-

Jaune stands in the center of his living room, staring at his shut door. Saphron has just dragged Yang into it, and his mind has been reeling with what he'd seen. Barely dressed, slow music off her scroll, and with smeared makeup on? He doesn't want to come to any conclusions, not without talking to her first, but the obvious ones come to mind.

He isn't certain he can reckon with the inevitable outcome.

Behind him, Terra sensibly cuts off Yang's music playing off her scroll. Jaune nearly jumps when he's brought out of his stupor and into her beautiful, suffocating presence. Terra is still as captivating as he remembers, tinted with the gloss of a boyhood crush that refuses to die. At least with Saphron around he could suffuse it, but not alone in the heavy quiet of his apartment.

Terra gives him a bemused smile. Ever sympathetic. She pats the seat cushion beside her and Jaune joins her, plopping on the cushion with a held breath he eases out of himself.

"You seem surprised," Terra says. "And here I thought you'd already seen her in less."

"I did say we've only made out… and snuggled." He can't decide which one is more scandalous. Perhaps neither. Or both, given that they aren't even dating.

"Yeah, despite that being unusual enough to be true, I still had my doubts."

"Have any still?"

"No. You definitely don't look like the kind of couple that's seen each other naked."

Jaune's eyes narrow. "We're not a couple."

"I believe you," she says with a smile. She's so dangerously close to him that he can smell her perfume. A glance shows him that she's eying him expectantly. He's tense, uncertain, and it's clear that she can see that. She pulls away, giving him room to breathe. "Guessing you've still got a crush on me then?"

His spine gets stiffer, spotting her at the corner of his eye because he refuses to look directly at her. She's smiling still. Being cheeky. "Terra…" he groans.

She scooches a little closer again (taking a chance that his nerves might not erupt), and lets his heat wash over her and lets him feel hers. The affection is platonic, he knows that. He and his sisters huddle together for comfort often, and Terra has just learned to follow suit. But he can't help but revel in it, letting it sink into his pores till it leaves a familiar tingle.

A small part of him hates it but mostly hates himself for indulging.

"If I asked you why, would you tell me?" Her tone is quiet, almost a whisper. She's trying to ease him.

"Because you cared about me."

She chuckles because it's naïve and honest and oh so very like him that it's almost nostalgic. "Was that really all?"

"When you're young and naïve, that's all it takes."

"I didn't know you were lonely."

It was his turn to chuckle. "I wasn't. I was never some lonely little kid who didn't have any friends. I had enough love from my sisters alone to fill my heart a hundred times over."

"Then why?"

He shrugs. "I don't know. Do I need to have been missing something in my life to want to fall in love?"

Her feet shuffles in place. "I guess I haven't seen it that way. After I was old enough to date, I'd not gone a year without someone I wanted to be with or was already with. I always felt like love completed me, like it does now with Saph… Is that not how you feel?"

"I'm… I'm not saying love doesn't make me happy or anything. It's just that I don't feel like I need it to feel whole. I don't think it'd complete me, just that it might be nice to have too. Is that not how you feel?"

She chuckles again, a nervous uncertainty tinting her quiet, teahouse melody. "I don't know. Never been without it, really. At least not for long."

He looks at her – examines her, really – because her cheek is gone, as is her confidence, and it feels like she's revealing her artifice in a vulnerable moment. She's digging gaps into her own thoughts and he can see her pick apart her own internal logic and she seems more and less somehow. Like she's less the perfect cut gem he thought she was and sees the girl underneath it.

He's less tense all of a sudden.

And for a moment he feels like he can come to grips with everything that she is. Who she was to him, who she wasn't, and who she's become. A boyhood crush, flightful fantasy, and… he can't bring himself to think of the last. Fist clenching and unclenching, a slow motion that tries to hide the trembling in his digits.

He swallows and he worries if she can hear it. She doesn't, but she can see something's troubling him.

"How's Adrian?" he asks.

"Oh, he's –"

"A DRESS!?" Saphron screams from beyond the locked bedroom door.

Jaune jolts up from his seat and nearly bumps into Terra who'd stood along with him. She steps aside and he hurries to the door, asking after them. Terra tries not to pay attention (she can barely hear what they say beyond the door anyhow) but then he mentions Yang's sister, Ruby – the girl Terra thought he actually has a crush on – and Yang audibly shouts, "What!?" passed the door at him.

"Aren't you two lively…" Terra whispers.

-0-

Dinner is a largely pleasant affair until the alcohol gets introduced. The hills of drink they stack onto the table to peruse intimidates Jaune and he cautions that he cannot – will not – drink anything that isn't at least on the rocks. He'll shoulder tomorrow's regret but he doesn't want to sleep through the sun burning through the morning and afternoon.

Saphron and Terra share a glance before pulling something out of Terra's bag. Diadem, a vintage Vacuan drink stronger than everything else on the table. They only ask that he a takes a shot. It'll buzz him through the evening.

It's too strong and he nearly hurls.

Yang half remembers all the stories they tell. Saphron regales them with tales of how she met Terra, the proposal, the wedding, and even the honeymoon off the coast of Menagerie. Jaune spouts on about his team and a misadventure with his twin on an old farm and a horse, and Yang, somehow, talks about a food fight twice. It's funnier the second time around.

There's a gap in her memory of whatever story Terra was telling because she fixates on one part and can't focus on anything else. "…she's little Adrian's babysitter," she mentions briefly but doesn't have the faculties to ask about.

When Saph and Terra leave for their hotel, things wind down and Yang's sitting on the sofa in Jaune's hoodie. Yang returns the shirt and shorts she borrowed but she feels like wearing something that's his might help with tonight.

Jaune joins her, easing down slowly as his head rides the waves of a dying Vacuan storm.

"Who's Adrian?" she asks.

He's quiet for a moment, perhaps from the drink. "He's Terra's son."

Yang can see it. Saphron isn't mentioned deliberately. He doesn't just forget this time. "Oh! From a previous marriage?"

He shakes his head. "No, nothing like that," he says, sobering up.

"A previous partner then?"

Jaune says nothing. He's sitting upright. Rigid and awake. There's something there. Maybe Terra had a previous partner he didn't like, but then things click into place. Realization sets in like headlights through the fog, suddenly and violently.

"Oh my god…" she whispers, "…he's yours."

He doesn't answer. Doesn't need to. She grabs onto his arm and pulls him into a hug. She's hit a nail on the head and panic sets in when she thinks she's opened up an old wound. It's precisely the kind of thing they're supposed to help each other forget. Only, Yang doesn't realize that Jaune is so caught off-guard by her sudden burst of affection that he's at first startled and – when she goes in for a kiss and ends up headbutting him instead – he ends up laughing it off.

His mirth is almost strange until it makes complete sense somehow. She's done her job, kept her end of the bargain, and now she's laughing with him too.

When he's calmed down, he lies back on the sofa when she goes to get a drink. She comes back to find him lying across the sofa and she makes the executive decision to just fall on top of him. She crashes into his stomach with a hefty oof from him and she makes no apologies for retaliating.

"Sofa hog," she jeers from her perch on his chest, chin resting on her arms.

"I bought it," he shoots back playfully, eying her down from the arm rest.

"Still pay half the rent. And I never asked you to pay me back when I foot the bill for refurbishing them."

"Wouldn't have needed to if Zwei didn't tear them up."

"It was a joint decision that we took him in for the week. You're as much to blame."

He sighs. "I guess I am."

It isn't actually an issue. They've basically already had this discussion and Yang had insisted on covering for it at the time. They're only stalling. Even Yang isn't quite sure she wants to go on.

She doesn't know how long it takes her to summon the courage to speak again. All she knows is that he's willing to answer, even if it would be easier for both of them to stay ignorant. To let these problems solve themselves and never to bear your heart until it is absolutely necessary.

But she speaks anyway. "I thought it was the wedding that got to you."

And so does he. "No, it… it just happened at the wedding. Saph had to go talk to an old classmate and so she left Terra with me. I was already holding Adrian and with Joan running off somewhere, we were alone. Just me, Terra… and our son. It hit me then. Slowly, like when you stare at yourself in the mirror at the night of a recital. You think, 'This is it. This is where things fall apart… or meet in the middle.' I knew I had to make peace with it before it got worse."

"And your answer was watered-down whiskey the minute you got back home?"

He shrugs. "Qrow gives good advice."

"Hm… maybe. I still think mine is better."

"Oh? And what's that?"

She pushes herself up over him, arms at either side of his head till her silhouette is against the dim glow of the incandescent bulb, warm light pooling through her hair till it looks like it's on fire. "Get drunk on me," she says, her breath tickling his nose and burning his lips.

But he doesn't kiss her. She sees the way his lips quiver, almost wanting to, but he doesn't even try.

She retreats instead, nestling back onto his chest but his cheeks are still burning and she swears hers are too. The room feels like it's boiling.

"When we kiss, do you think of her?"

"Never," he says honestly, and that seems to be the part that stings the most to him. "That's the most dangerous thing about you. You don't taste, feel, or smell like anyone else." He looks at her and only her, and she shrinks away as she gets up and off of him because she feels like a moon in a sea of stars, and as he straightens up and sits parallel to her, his eyes never leave, like a captive witness.

He leans in, and she doesn't know if it's to kiss her or just her sheer pull on him. She ultimately doesn't decide. Their foreheads meet – her eyes are downward but locked to his lips – and she breathes quietly as she asks, "Jaune? Are you in love with me?"

"Yang, are you even sure you are?"

"I… don't know yet."

He pulls away just an inch as something unsettling furrows his brow.

He gets up. "Gimme a minute," he says, and he's gone for just long enough for her to notice that the familiar heat she had pressed against her is missing.

She doesn't know what to expect when he comes back with his hand clutching a small object, but she would have never guessed a ring. It's nestled in a velvety box that he sits on the coffee table and he leaves it open as he sits down and watches it with her like it's some alien thing. He doesn't speak but he gives her a glance and…

It's then that she realizes that she's afraid. The look on her is uncertain – she can feel it, and she feels it freeze on her features.

"Did you pick this out for me?"

He shakes his head. "It was supposed to be Pyrrha's."

She blinks. "Is… is this what scared Pyrrha off?"

"No… it's what scared me off." He leans back against the sofa and she takes that as an invitation to do the same. They're huddled close, shoulder-to-shoulder. "Our breakup was only supposed to be temporary. Some tournament rival tried to pin her to a scandal when they found out she slept with me."

"What? Why would that be a problem?"

He snorts. "I was too young." Out loud, it sounds absurd.

"You were seventeen," she reasons.

"And Pyrrha was eighteen. As far as the law is concerned, Pyrrha slept with a minor."

Yang can feel herself coil up like a loaded spring. "Well, that's fucked! You're barely three months apart!"

"Didn't matter to them. Tabloids would have pinned it on her for the rest of her career. The context doesn't matter to the public."

"Okay…" she says slowly, stifling her frustrations for later. "So, what changed then? Why did you set her up with Sun?"

"Because I went to the wedding and found myself thinking about Terra again. It gave me some unhealthy doubts. I loved Pyrrha, I really did, but it felt wrong when I danced with Terra that night, holding our son in our arms… It felt like I'd betrayed Pyrrha somehow, even in my own mind, by feeling those things. It didn't matter that I didn't actually do anything about it."

"That's not how feelings work though," she says. "You're supposed to have doubts sometimes because people aren't perfect or consistent. Life isn't fiction, Jaune."

"I know that now." He shrugs, resigned in a way. "I found out a little too late though."

"How did you even get Pyrrha to agree to this?"

"She's not very honest about her feelings. Doesn't have the courage to be. When she heard that I'd pushed Sun to ask her out because Nora can't keep a secret, she thought that I might have given up on her. By the time we got the chance to be honest about it, she'd already gotten to know Sun enough to start taking him seriously."

Yang glances back at the ring. Not quite as alien as it was earlier. It just seems strange now, like it's out of place. There's a small comfort in that. "So where does the ring come in?"

"I got it as a sort of celebration when would get back together, but then people started asking about what it meant and… it felt like I'd stumbled onto some finality between us. Like I'd somehow found 'the one' over a year of friendship, a few dates, and showing up to the dance in a dress."

Yang smiles. Not because he seemed silly at the time, but because he's smiling. Because, in spite of his somber reflections, he can't help but feel like what he'd done turned out to be a triumph.

Her arm loops into his and his head leans on hers in response. "Doesn't sound like a bad set up to me," Yang says, shrugging against his arm. "If anything, it sounds like the stars aligned for you two." She speaks honestly. Forgets herself and sees him as Pyrrha's too-perfect other half to a too-perfect couple. If things hadn't turned out the way they did, she might have cheered them on for the rest of their lives. But that isn't how it turned out.

"That's what everyone was saying. It's like we'd ripped ourselves out of a fairytale, only I was a dense, blind princess and she was some stoic, stubborn prince. But it put a lot of pressure on us, living up to that story, and it felt like I wasn't as ready as I should have been. I came to Beacon unprepared for a lot of things. Might have hurt the people depending on me by not being ready. I was lucky my shield arm was always sturdy, but my heart wasn't. I naively worried that my inexperience would hurt us irreversibly." He rolls a hand over his knuckles. Contemplatively, regretfully. "I thought I was leaving her in good hands, but even if that's true, should I still have stayed instead? Did I have any right to decide if we should have stayed together or not?"

Her fingers slide off his arm and weave into his. She's huddling closer now, feet off the ground and knees tucked up to her chest. "I think, when we fall in love, we have to decide for ourselves if we want to keep going. We don't choose for the other in that. We choose for ourselves cause we are who we're supposed to look out for. You have to protect yourself first." Yang clutches tighter, and somehow Jaune can tell that her mother is involved. "That's the beautiful thing about a love that works. We decide for ourselves and it all just happens to fall into place with someone else. It doesn't always magically align – sometimes you don't agree with what they want or how they take it – but real love compromises just as much as it just… clicks." Like her and her dad. And Ruby. And maybe – if things turn out alright – her mom.

He wants to believe her. Even if he and Pyrrha didn't pan out, they still love each other as friends and things ultimately haven't changed between them. They were always bound to work out their issues and it's clear now that they've compromised without needing to sacrifice the friendship they'd fostered together.

He wants to thank her, but her eyes are away and she's chewing her lip. Yang is thinking of something else. Her sigh cuts through the silence and she's too shy to look at him.

"Jaune, why did you kiss me?"

He blinks. "What?"

"Last night. In bed. While I was sleeping."

His eyes widen. He's been caught. "Is it really so unusual?"

"It is when you aren't thinking of Terra or Adrian. When you do it just because you wanted to."

"How… how could you tell?"

She can hear the panic in his voice. Caught and cornered, it makes her a little happy to know he's unable to hide it. But it's the speed of which he accepts his fate that gets her grinning, because it's as if a part of him is tired of hiding it. "Because you weren't trying to forget something. You weren't trying to tease me and I certainly can't flirt back when I'm asleep…" She shoots him a knowing look and he gulps through a feeble foundation of defiance. "It was none of that. You did it hoping I wouldn't notice. You did it because you were hiding something you wanted."

He crumbles under her teasing. "Y-Yang, I… I can't –"

"Shh, it's okay," she says evenly, defusing his tension and giving him a moment to breathe and look into her eyes. "Don't jump to a conclusion you aren't ready to make." Her tone is slow and deliberate, fingers gliding along the skin of his arm like a soothing, gentle caress. "I get it, Jaune. Like me, you're still trying to figure it out."

He pulls away but fixes her with a stern, serious look. She doesn't realize he's holding her hand till he's squeezing it. He's composed, certain, and so deftly drunk on her that Yang remembers Jaune telling her that drowning in drink gives him clarity. "That's just it, Yang. I know I feel something. I've been feeling a lot of things when I'm with you…" His confidence wanes before he admits that, "It's just that I haven't figured out what I'm supposed to do about it."

Yang blinks twice and tries to speak but can't. And suddenly she can't stop the curl of her cheeks when she feels a growing smile coming.

He's almost afraid. "Yang?"

"Sorry. I'm still… you know you just confessed, right?"

"Ha!" he laughs, heart squeezing his chest. Relief in many ways settling into his skin. "Were you expecting me to say 'I love you'?"

"…"

He chuckles. "Oh my god, Yang."

"Is it weird that I'm a little giddy about that total cliché? Say it again."

He thinks it a little much but the words are easy, flowing freely from his lips. "I love you."

"Agh! You're a serious cheat. Why is it so easy for you to say?'

"Cause I already made peace with it. You stood there in a white dress and I could see you tearing Terra out of that place in my mind and putting yourself there in her stead. I already knew. You've been nothing but a tidal wave to my emotions, just swallowing everything up and leaving little traces of yourself everywhere."

He settles back into the cushions, sinking comfortably into it. "I used to sit on this couch and scream curses at the moon through the window," he says. "Nowadays my eyes are glued to the screen watching a movie with you. I used to be careful about what I threw into the sink because I was afraid I'd have to call in a mechanic to fix the shredder again, and now I don't even give it a second thought."

"And you used to lie in bed thinking about her…" Yang teases.

"Actually, no. I was at peace when I went to bed. Pyrrha trained me to shut down once I got under the sheets. Nowadays it feels like the sandman keeps missing my eyes with the way you move me around in bed."

"I don't think your tongue's been doing much complaining."

"Seems you were willing to use more than just your tongue earlier," he says, teasing her. She shrinks a little, embarrassed. "What were you doing anyway?"

"I was, uh, trying to seduce you."

"Oh… What changed?"

She groans. "I guess my wires got crossed. I thought that if I got you to sleep with me, this" – she gestures between them – "would suddenly clear up. But I'm not that kind of girl. I don't put on lingerie all the time expecting you to see it. Not even sure I'm the kind of girl who wants her clothes ripped off when I get you riled up."

"Yeah, your outfits look expensive. Custom fit and embroidered."

"I wouldn't hit you if you tried, FYI. I'd maybe cry or get upset."

"I'll try not to ravage you through your clothes if that ever happens."

"If? Still don't think we're gonna end up doing the dirty tango after all we've been through? Seems inevitable at this point."

"I think we'll either do it when it makes sense or decide we aren't meant for each other."

"I don't know. I'm pretty snug right where I am." She gives him cheek, brimming with certainty. Confidence. "Still," she says more seriously, "are you really so ready to give up what we have? I don't see it happening, but it looks like you think we're just as likely to stay together as splitting up."

He looks away. Yang is surprised to find him embarrassed, not concerned.

"You don't actually feel that way," Yang says gleefully. "You're as sure as I am."

"I'm not ready to take that risk just yet," he confesses.

She moves to straddle him and loops her arms around his neck. "I can wait."

His hands grip her waist through the thickness of the hoodie. "I can't ask you to do that."

"I'm not asking you. I'm telling you. I told you that love was about deciding for yourself and settling into compromises if our choices don't align. I'm choosing to stay. And – I hope – we agree to compromise."

He takes a moment to look away before locking eyes with her. He leans in and pecks her lips so briefly that she doesn't get the chance to kiss back.

"Wh-what?"

"It's how I'm supposed to say yes, aren't I?"

She laughs and so does he. Yang was expecting to cap off the night with a kiss, pressing bodily into the sheets as their hands roam their bodies, but none of that happens. They clean the dinner the table, take separate baths, and settle into bed together.

She does kiss him on the neck for good measure but he realizes that he can still feel the kiss and it isn't because there's a tingle there. Cracking an eye open, he notices the gloss on her lips. "Are you wearing lipstick?"

"The light kind," she says. "Told myself I'd leave a mark on you during my little lapse earlier. I've decided not to give you a hickey. Consider it an act of mercy."

He shuts his eyes and tries to ignore it but can't. He's painfully aware of it and he just knows he's gonna smudge that on something. It'd be funny if it's Yang's face but he'd hate to get it on his sheets. He sits up. "Yeah, nope. I'm washing this off."

"What? C'mon!" She grabs onto him, anchoring him back into bed.

"Nope. Not doing it," he says defiantly.

"Have it your way, Arc. Hickey it is!"

"Wait, Yang! Yang!"

-0-

Jaune is reminded everyday that he showed up to brunch that following morning with a hickey his scarf couldn't hide. Yang makes it up to him by buying dessert.

The get-togethers go on and Yang is less and less embarrassed about openly teasing Jaune and showing her affections publicly. Jaune retaliates, of course, and they even get hot and bothered in the hallway of a movie theater. They spend the rest of the movie in a stall. Terra finds them and is honestly just surprised they haven't taken each other's clothes off… ever.

Jaune and Yang don't tell them that neither of them and ready to go that far yet. Jaune takes the brunt of the blame and says that if he doesn't hold back, they'll end up doing something stupid. Saphron slips Jaune a condom and he regrets everything for the rest of the night.

Two weeks pass with much the same. Sometimes they introduce Saphron and Terra to some of their other friends, and they even manage a weekend together in a cottage near the coast. They're excited about reuniting with Pyrrha and they even meet Sun on her scroll.

Yang finds out that Saphron is every bit a mother as she is a big sister, and Jaune reminds her that she is practically no different herself.

Jaune learns that Qrow and Terra are old classmates and that they had more in common than they thought.

And after Joan is caught scheming with Nora and getting her and Ren back together, after Blake engorges the shrimp platter on a Schnee-sponsored dinner, after Weiss tames a friendly rivalry between Winter and Saphron about who has the cuter sibling, after Ruby gets her cheeks pinched till they go red cause she lost a bet and showed up in an adorable beowulf costume, and after Penny freaks out and her head pops off at dinner (her severed head still tries to chew on a salad)… their two weeks together are up and they're standing at the train station, ready to see them off.

It's been raining for the last few days and everything is damp and cold. Even the air is still thick with the smell of misty rain water and the sky hasn't seen the sun even peek through the cloud cover. It's almost a somber way to say goodbye.

Saphron is introducing Yang to her babysitter and little Adrian over a video call. Jaune stands aside, unwilling to let the last few weeks burn away at the sight of his biological son gurgling through the screen.

Terra nudges into his side. "Can we talk?"

He nods and she pulls them away beside a pillar. Saphron notices and winks at her wife.

"Is there something wrong?" Jaune asks.

"Nothing, actually. I might even say our impromptu vacation here might as well have been perfect."

"Impromptu?"

"I guess it never came up but… we were only supposed to be here for a few days."

"Why did you stick around then? Wouldn't that have been imposing on your babysitter?"

"Oh, Taffy was plenty happy to be at the house with Adrian. She's an orphan and she takes every excuse to come over." She leans in to whisper. "We might even adopt her once I get a raise at the office so look forward to a niece! And, really, is it such a surprise that we enjoy spending time with you and your friends?"

"After the bonfire? I guess not."

"Good. Now that isn't why I needed to talk."

"Oh…" He glances at Yang a few feet away. He can barely hear her and Saphron through the rancor of the station.

"I know you've been holding back."

"Did Yang tell you that?"

"Call it a big sister's intuition."

"You're an only child."

"Not anymore, I'm not. Now I've got six little sisters and a not-so-little brother." She pats his chest then busies her hands with straightening his collar. "A little brother who is too afraid to take a chance and would much rather play it safe than play at all."

"Terra…"

"I know you're afraid that you aren't ready. I wasn't either. Hell, sometimes I worry I'll mess up and ruin a perfectly good marriage. These are all normal things to be afraid of, and for some people, these fears don't go away. We just learn to live with them."

She slides her hands to his arms and down to fingers till she's holding them softly and looking up at him. There's a quiet concern in her sad little smile that he isn't sure how to respond to.

"I think you've driven yourself to be so careful with your feelings that you've forgotten to just take things as they come," she says. "I know you have to be careful with your heart but the thing isn't made of glass. Even if it hurts, even if it hurts easily, the fact that you're still in one piece should be more than enough proof that you aren't as fragile as you think you are. Maybe take a risk. Maybe love will hurt, but so few of us get better at it without giving it a shot first. Like a lot of things, Jaune, it takes a lot of trial and error."

"I've been down this road before already…"

She squeezes his hands. "And you'll go down it again and again. Sometimes people find love once and that's all it takes. But for the rest of us? For most of us? We gotta keep trying."

With a kiss on the cheek and a whispered 'good luck', Saphron and Terra disappear into accelerating train until even it vanishes into the horizon.

Jaune stares into the middle distance and Yang, much like Terra, nudges into his side. "What did you talk about?" she asks.

He shrugs. "Stuff."

"Oh, well that's lame. Should've had more to say to someone you really care about." It's clear she doesn't buy it.

He knows she doesn't. "Yeah, real shame I wasn't more profound and emotional."

She rolls her eyes because she'll let it be and won't pry for his sake. "C'mon, it's getting chilly out here and it might rain again with the wind picking up." She makes to walk off.

"Hey, Yang?"

She stops. "Yeah?"

For a moment he doesn't speak, his eyes are uncertain and elsewhere but then his fists clench as if he's just convinced himself to do something. "Wanna get dinner?" he asks, reaching out to take her by the hand. "We can put on something nice and there's a real fancy place with the best lobster in town."

Yang isn't sure how to take it. She doesn't resist when his thumb brushes over her knuckles, but she summons a bit of bravery herself, stepping closer and resting a fist against her beating chest. "Is… this a date?"

She yelps when he pulls her in. He kisses her, drowns her tongue and melts their bodies together till she's flush against him and tugging at his hair. There's still fear in his eyes when they pull away, but there's a determination in there she's happy to see. "Is that answer enough?"

She giggles through the haze of her burning cheeks. "Plenty."

Then she's on him this time and tilting him backwards with her lips alone until he's just as hazy. Still, he doesn't expect it when she clambers onto his back and slips into a piggyback ride before she starts laughing uncontrollably.

"Hiya, noble steed! To the bike!" she cheers from her perch atop his head.

He's laughing too, even if he's huffing a little from the jog to Bumblebee. "What's gotten into you?"

"I can't help it…" she whispers into his hair, excitement mixing into a bubbling cocktail with a giddiness she can't stop. "I'm happy."

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Pairings: Past Aizawa/Mandalay

Word Count: 1,9218 Words

Summary: The Sports Festival, part 1.

Warnings: Food Mention, Death Mention, Caps, Cursing, Teen Pregnancy, Fighting Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.

Usernames: Existence Is A Prison   Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you

Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 8

7:00 AM

Existence Is A Prison

gay salt: Tokoyami, I know it's the sports festival and all today, but you didn't need to bring everyone sandos and sports drinks again.

foil-mecha: Thing is, I didn't.

farmer toshi: No, no, because my whole class has sandos and sports drinks on their desks too. And I heard the other Gen Ed classes causing a ruckus over them too. Seems like someone put sando throughout the whole school.

feral cat dad: That would be me. I'm not letting any of you kids go without eating during a major sports event where you'll likely get injured and your bodies need fuel to fight and I won't let you not eat.

feral cat dad: My old Gen Ed teacher, Miss Rin, began this tradition of giving out sandos and water at the gate to students on the day of the Sports Festival. Nezu sanctioned of course, since he refused to allow her to pay for it herself. And now it's carried on through me since she passed on a few years ago.

ranch flavored jello: That's actually really sweet, Dad.

feral cat dad: If you tell anyone it was me who put them out, I'll make you clean the roof level.

ranch flavored jello: We have a roof level?

feral cat dad: You guys didn't know the dorms have roof access?

ranch flavored jello: Well, now we do. Where even are the stairs to it?

feral cat dad: Literally next to my room, I don't know how you haven't found them.

deku deck-you: It's the door next to his room, Toru. Even I found it. You've been here five more days than me.

ranch flavored jello: I THOUGHT THAT WAS A BROOM CLOSET!

feral cat dad: Oh my gods, these kids will be the end of me.

8:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: God help me being alone with this idiot.

feral cat dad: I'm using this chat for extra commentary because there are things I can't say on live national television commentary so they'll all be said here.

feral cat dad: Oh god, Katsuki, no. Don't slander our name.

feral cat dad: Please.

feral cat dad: GOD DAMMIT

feral cat dad: Obstacle Course? Fuck.

feral cat dad: Most proud of my son managing to evade Todoroki's ice despite never dealing with it before.

feral cat dad: Also, Todoroki, who hurt you as a child? That was purposeful so nobody could catch up!

feral cat dad: Get it, Pikachu.

feral cat dad: I'm proud of my gremlin children.

feral cat dad: I'm not paid enough to make commentary on this obstacle.

feral cat dad: Except for my son. I care about my ground-bound son getting across the pit to Tartarus shit.

feral cat dad: Gods, mines. I remember those landmines. I hate those things. They almost made me temporarily blind during my second year Sports Festival.

feral cat dad: What the FUCK Midoriya!?

8:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Alright you're probably in the break room for the twenty five minute break by now. Katsuki, what's wrong with your arms? You were holding them.

deku deck-you: Just a lot of work. Overworking. I guess it can't be helped, this is why I have so much wrist support in my hero costume, to help keep my hands from feeling cramped from the explosions.

feral cat dad: Come up to the box, I'll shut old parakeet up if he tries to speak.

deku deck-you: Why?

feral cat dad: I have some ibuprofen, come take two, it should help the pain at least.

deku deck-you: Thank you.

9:00 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Am I allowed to ask why Vlad King is taking care of a small child when he, in fact, doesn't have children?

feral cat dad: Just realized I won't get an answer because you all made it to the next round. I'm so proud but dammit, now I'm curious.

9:20 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: I...What?

feral cad dad; I hate the cavalry battle, that was difficult to keep track of. I don't know how Hizashi does it.

schrodinger better run: Obviously, the answer is very carefully.

feral cat dad: I'm sorry you didn't make it through, Pony. I have candy if you want some.

schrodinger better run: Thank you! I'll stop by and grab it on my way to lunch.

feral cat dad: If you're going to meet back up with your class, text me why there's a child.

schrodinger better run: There's a child?

feral cat dad: smallchildinvladkingsarms.jpg

schrodinger better run: He looks a lot like Tokage.

9:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

ranch flavored jello: Mr. Aizawa, this is Mina, Toru's busy crying so she asked me to ask you. Mineta and Kaminari are telling us 1a girls that you instructed we wear the cheerleader uniforms for the afternoon. What should we tell them?

feral cat dad: Tell them they have three weeks of detention each to look forward to and don't wear those fucking uniforms.

schrodinger better run: Okay, so apparently the kid's here because Tokage brought him in? I still don't have a full explanation, but his name is Mitsu and he's 2 years old.

feral cat dad: Okay. So Tokage brought her little brother or something?

nat20: I'm not so sure about that. He just called her Mama.

feral cat dad: So Tokage has a son?

nat20: It seems like it.

feral cat dad: Oh, Nezu won't be happy about this. He wanted any young parents to report to him after the opening ceremony and alert him if they had any children so they would stay in the dorms.

nat20: To be fair, it would seem Tokage would be the only one out of all the first year classes, so it might have been too much pressure to fit in. Or she may even just has help enough at home that she didn't feel she needed to tell anyone.

feral cat dad: He'll still be mad. Believe me, he'll at least force her to accept a UA fund card so she doesn't need to work to support the baby.

saviour: We got to talking and, apparently, she gives him to a daycare while she's at school and she picks him up when she leaves school.

feral cat dad: Yup, she'll probably be moved on campus if she's not having her family take care of the baby during the day. Nezu's very adamant that his students have help if they're struggling.

10:45 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Alright, so Shinsou against Rikamaru Kana from the Support Course. I don't know if this will be easy for him.

nat20: I am offended Kendo thinks so little of me.

feral cat dad: Why?

nat20: She said I'm perverse! And, when I asked her about it after, she said it's because I wear the girls' uniform sometimes. She thinks I'm some pervert trying to invade the girl's bathroom to creep on them.

nat20: I swear I haven't, Mr. Aizawa, I've never even gone into the girls restrooms, I use the men's or the one in Recovery Girl's office. And I change in the men's locker room. Tetsutetsu will tell you, he's guarded me before when I was uncomfortable changing.

feral cat dad: Don't worry, kid, I believe you. Come up to the box, you need a hug. I'll talk to Kendo if you want.

nat20: Please.

10:50 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Oh my god, he actually did it. I'm so proud, Shinsou.

schrodinger better run: Shinsou fucking yeeted her.

life is a nightmare: Equal opportunity yeeting.

feral cat dad: Next up is Hatsume vs Tokoyami.

nat20: I hope Tokoyami does well next.

11:00 AM

Existence Is A Prison

feral cat dad: Tokoyami, I'm proud of you for being a good sport and helping her up after.

foil-mecha: I'm nothing if not a gentleman. Plus, when she fell down, she sprained her ankle. It's the least I can do to help her to Recovery Girl.

farmer toshi: I'm betting a grocery shop tonight that Ashido's going to win against Midoriya next.

feral cat dad: Be careful kid, you might eat those words.

11:10 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Fine, I guess I'm getting dinner. And I'm also very happy Toru won against Iida.

feral cat dad: That's if you don't get injured. Remember, there's now two people you know against you.

ranch flavored jello: I still can't believe I won against Iida, honestly.

feral cat dad: Well, Shiozaki is against Shizuka Inei next. A Gen Ed Course student.

nat20: Do you know him, Hitoshi?

farmer toshi: Kind of hard to miss someone when they're that fucking loud all the time.

foil-mecha: Is that son of a bitch harassing Ibara?

nat20: I have lost faith in humanity. How dare a peasant's filthy hands touch our Ibara.

farmer toshi: Yeah, I'd defend my classmate in it being an accident if I didn't know that Shizuka is a blatant misogynists.

feral cat dad: I'll fight him. Disgusting little trash.

life is a nightmare: And HE gets to advance while our Ibara loses? Unacceptable.

feral cat dad: The Min*ta of class 1c.

11:25 AM

Existence Is A Prison

nat20: Thank goodness Kiyomi's advancing. I do feel bad she'll be fighting a misogynist though.

pure: I felt kind of bad about it, I didn't really want to fight our Akari!

nat20: I'm sure Akari understands and also didn't want to fight you either, but you two can't just refuse to fight because you're friends or you'd both be either disqualified or forced to fight by now.

gay salt: No ill will is held on my end, Kiyomi! I think our fight was rather fun!

pure: Okay, as long as you promise you're not mad.

gay salt: I'm not, I'm proud of you, mon amor.

nat20: Any bets on Kaminari here?

farmer toshi: I'll bet on Pikachu winning.

schrodinger better run: I'll bet a grocery trip that Fujioka wins.

life is a nightmare: That would be the furthest a Business Course student would have gotten in the Sports Festival.

schrodinger better run: I'll still bet on him.

feral cat dad: Well, you were wrong, Pony.

schrodinger better run: All as well. I didn't expect Fujioka to have an equip quirk, to be fair.

feral cat dad: Next is Tokage vs Fukumura from General Studies.

saviour: Let's go Tokage!

11:30 AM

Existence Is A Prison

deku deck-you: Is Tokage okay? I heard she passed out.

feral cat dad: She's overworked and malnourished from what Recovery Girl will tell me when I ask and Nezu is speaking with Tokage and asking her what got her to this.

feral cat dad: I

feral cat dad: I don't think I'm at liberty to discuss her tragic backstory with you guys, sadly. But she'll tell you when she moves into the dorms tonight.

11:35 AM

Existence Is A Prison

farmer toshi: Todoroki, aka Mr. Overboard. Poor Sero.

farmer toshi: Oh god, I might need to fight Mr. Daddy Issues.

farmer toshi: Gods help me.

foil-mecha: To be fair, he'd have to get through three brackets to get to you and he'd be fighting you in the three-way fight.

ranch flavored jello: He'd have to get past Katsuki too.

deku deck-you: He won't.

feral cat dad: Alright then, Mr. Overconfident.

Taglist: @everythingisstardust 

[sybilmarlowe]

Ooh!! A modern headcanon of DoffyxViola in Miami! They're married! Oh and Law stays with them while his god-father Rosci is in the Navy for long months! Have fun with this!

For this HC I’m gonna modify Law’s age a bit, since in the comics he’s just 3 years younger than Viola and it wouldn’t be fun XP so everybody has the same age as in the series except for him who’s 10 yo. 

I also ended up modifying a bit your request (the story takes place in a week and not in months) because I came up with a nice idea and it worked better like this... hope you don’t mind! 

- being the head of a huge company in New York (don't ask me why is it so canon he'd be a manager if he lived in our world XD) may be very stressful and, after a whole month spent working almost without a break, Doflamingo decided to finally take some time for himself... and his wife.

- He’d been married to Viola for 4 months now, but, shortly after their honeymoon, business had increased and it’d become harder and harder for him to spend time with her. 

- She was a very sweet and comprehensive person, but Doffy felt guilty anyways, she deserved much more! 

- That night he went back home with a huge bunch of roses for his wife and a bottle of the finest wine

- “Violet, we have to celebrate!” “What is it, Doffy? Was your business particularly good today?” “Yes, but... what I want to celebrate tonight is the beginning of a very special week. A whole week for just you and me”

- Of course, even the “celebration for the beginning” was quite fun itself, but it was nothing compared to what Doffy had planned for his wife for the following 7 days... - The morning after they were already on a plane to Miami: Doffy had a beautiful attic there, right above the sea, with a stunning view... the perfect place to spend some time with Viola.

- Some very special time just for the two of them, finally, far away from New York, from work and from any kind of bothering...

- ...or maybe not.

- They were just entered the appartment, Doffy holding Viola bridal style (he loves to be theatrical, that's a matter of fact), when his phone suddenly started ringing.

-“I have no intention to answer, it must be someone from the company who forgot about my directives...”

“I don't think so, my love, that's your personal phone. Answer it, it can be something important”

- Seeing the name on the screen almost made him swear.

- “Rocinante! What is it!? Didn't I tell you I was going to finally spend some time with my wife this week?! I really hope you...”

“You're in Miami, right?”

“Yes, but...”

“Great! My flight is making a stopover there in 15 minutes, I have to move abroad for 6 days for a meeting with the Navy Admirals and I couldn't find anyone to look after Law!”

“You're not listening, are you!? I told you I'm in Miami because...”

“Law is here with me, I've already called a taxi which'll drive him to your house. You're staying in the attic, I guess... Have you other properties there?”

“Rocinante! I told you...!”

“Thank you, bro! I owe you a favour!”

“Rocinante! You...! I can't believe, he just hang up on me!”

- Doffy had never been so angry in a while, but Viola was giggling “Come on, your brother's stepchild is a good boy, it won't be so bad to have him around!”

- Not even half an hour later, Law arrived the attic accompanied by one of the building's doormen. He had nothing else with him than a backpack and a portable console.

- “Alright, kid, your room is on the second floor”

“Can I play on the couch over there?”

“Of course you ca...”

“You can, dear!” Viola talked over her husband “You're with family here, do as if you were home!”

- That was just the beginning of the end. Law was indeed a good kid but he was... a kid! He spent hours playing videogames in the living room (which, of course, was the best room of the attic) and running around pretending to be his favourite hero, Sora. He also read comics while walking sometimes and once he almost broke an expensive flamingo sculpture!

- Ok, Viola actually hoped for the sculpture to be broken, but Doflamingo was faster in catching it...

- No dinners for two, of course, Law felt lonley eating alone in his room as “uncle Doffy” suggested (and Viola would have never allowed it)

- As any 10-years-old child, Law woke up early every morning and asked to go to the beach, but eventually he always stayed under the beach umbrella reading his comics and lamenting it was too hot.

- At night... well, he played his videogames or watched tv without minding his step-uncles' room was just next to his. And at the same time Viola and Doffy weren't actually allowed to do whatever they wanted for the same reason.......

- But the bottom was touched one evening when Doffy finally managed to be alone with his wife at the poolside on the terrace. Law hadn't been around for the whole afternoon, so he thought he had decided to stay away in his room for once.

- It goes without saying, he was wrong.

- All of a sudden, Law run into the terrace and... he slipped.

- He fell violently in Doffy's lap, causing his chair to broke and his drink to... fall all over a very perplexed Viola.

- “Look what you've done!”

“I didn't do it on purpose, it was an accident!”

“Go to your room! Now!”

“Ehi! You can't say me wat to do, old man!”

- That was enough.

- Doffy now looked totally calm and incredibly scary “If you don't get out of my sight immediately, I'll make both you and that idiot brother of mine regret having brought you here”

- Law widened his eyes in terror, he hesitated a couple of seconds and then run away. He was crying.

- “I... I'm sorry, Viola, are you alright? If only that kid hadn't... ”

“Doffy, don't you think you just overdid a bit with him?”

“What!? Did you hear him? I can't stand that arrogant spoiled child anymore!”

“Spoiled and arrogant child? He reminds me so much of someone else... He just wants to catch your attention! After all he lost his parents not so long ago... he needs a family”

“I really don't know how a woman like you could have chosen a man like me, really... you're even too gentle!”

“But I'm right. Now go talk to him, he looks up at you if you haven't noticed! Be a good uncle for once!”

- He followed Viola's advice, he reached Law in his room and talked to him as a real uncle should. It was strange at the beginning, but somehow it worked.

-“I didn't mean to bother you and aunt Viola... I promise I'll lower my videogame's volume and be careful not to bump into your sculptures anymore... even if they're horrible.”

- For the first time, Doffy simply laughed.

- The following three days were good. Yes, that week hadn't surely been as Doffy had planned, he barely managed to stay alone with his wife... but being uncles was not so bad!

- “Let me just ask you a ting, kid... why do you always ask us to bring you to the beach if you don't even approach water? Couldn't be you can't swim!”

“Honestly, uncle... I don't...”

“Well... neither do I!”

- Rocinante reached them on the 6th day to bring Law back home with him. When he asked if he had acted well, both Viola and Doffy answered he was a very good child. Viola also added he had to be proud of such a good son and Rocinante struggled not to cry.

- They stayed for dinner and left that very evening.

- “Remember, brother, I owe you a favour!”

“Oh, you can bet I will!”

- And, in the end, husband and wife were finally, truly alone.

- “We still have this night and a whole day for us, Doffy, aren't you happy?”

“I'd have prefered this all to be very different, but...”

“You seemed to have fun with Law in the end, uh?”

“I can't say the contrary... he's a smart kid, after all. But I really hope it'll be a while before we'll have to look after children again!”

“Mmh... eight months is enough?”

“Eight months... WHAT?!”

“You get it well, love. I'm pregnant!”

(Sorry for the long wait, dear, I had a to work a lot lately xAx but I managed to write this in the end! Hope you like it!)