#messing around doodling to avoid doing homework

[xx-j4nu5-c4t5-xx]

i really like this guy

(I didn't think about what a hat would do to his mohawk though 😭)

[miss-writes-a-lot]

Doodle Pants// Dabihawks childhood au featuring. Mama Rei

Every day, Touya came home with his uniform an absolute mess. Shirt untucked and wrinkled, pant legs dirty up to the knees and ripped, and the sweater missing for the third time in a row that month. Touya’s disheveled appearance was usually followed by a phone call from his teacher about another fight he got into with one of his classmates, which earned him a scolding from his father.

Every day, Rei would remind her oldest son that if he wanted to avoid his father’s anger, he should stop getting into fights and be more careful when playing outside, but every day was more or less the same and the calls started to come even before Touya did, and despite every parent-teacher conference, every trip to apologize to the parents of the child that got the shit kicked out of them, every parenting book, bribery – Touya still came home a mess and with another pink slip in his hand to give to his parents.

That was until one day.

Rei had already felt that something was missing from her daily routine until she heard the front door pop open and Touya announced his arrival.

“I’m home!”

Rei took a breath, bracing herself for whatever state her son had come home in and the inevitable demerit that came with it. She floated from the kitchen to the front room, a gentle smile playing across her face.

“Welcome home, Touya–”

She stopped, brows arching in surprise.

Touya had an ear-to-ear grin stretched across his face. The only thing in his hands were the straps of his book bag, but that wasn’t what caught Rei off guard. Touya’s uniform was covered from collar to cuff with multi-colored pen doodles. They were shaky and ranged from flowers to what she could only assume were clouds and stars.

She stifled a giggle. “Well, you sure are colorful today!”

“Yup,” Touya replied, already starting to head for the kitchen.

“Can I ask what the occasion is?”

Touya stopped. He turned his head to glance at his mom and he shrugged. “Was just bored.”

He turned his head back around and walked right into the kitchen, the conversation clearly being over on Touya’s end.

Rei didn’t receive a phone call that day.

From that day on, Touya came home covered in doodles. Enji still wasn’t happy about the overall state of most of his clothes, but Rei reminded him that it was better to power wash them every few days rather than buy him an entire new wardrobe like they used to do. The calls became few and far between, the pink slips disappeared into thin air, and Touya had an overall happier demeanor when he came back from school in the afternoon.

Rei was glad that her son – and by extension, his father – was seemingly in better spirits, though she couldn’t help but wonder who was really drawing Touya every day. Her son was no contortionist. His arms could not reach behind his back far enough for the doodles around his shoulder blades and the center of his back.

The doodles were also quite shaky– shakier than Touya's own handwriting. But Touya remained tight-lipped on the true culprit for the longest time. Rei thought it best to just leave it alone. He was improving and happier and that’s all that mattered. 

｡･ﾟﾟ･　　･ﾟﾟ･｡

Touya brought Keigo home on a Friday afternoon. He was a small boy for his age - especially with those big red wings of his. He seemed quiet too, letting Touya do most of the talking when he introduced him.

“He’s my friend,” Touya said, clipped and matter-of-factly, “From school.”

“N-Nice to meet you,” Keigo mumbled, looking down at his hole-covered shoes.

He definitely was not a friend from school. Not his school, at least. Rei knew all the kids in Touya’s class given the numerous altercations he had with them.

Keigo was nowhere in that catalog.

Rei simply offered him a warm smile, “It’s nice to meet you too, Keigo.”

“We can play in my room,” Touya grabbed his little hand and tried pulling him down the opposite hallway, “C’mon-”

“Touya!” Rei called, “Don’t you have homework to do?”

Touya pouted, rolling his eyes. “Mooooomm…”

“You and Keigo can play after you finish. If you want, I can make you snacks.”

Keigo’s golden eyes brightened, leaving Touya no choice but to relent.

They all headed into the kitchen. The boys sat at the kitchen table while Rei fixed a fruit platter for them. She listened as Touya explained everything he was doing to Keigo, who looked on in curiosity. It was about a minute or two into his explanation of his book report that she saw it:

Keigo reached into Touya’s pencil bag, pulled out a blue ballpoint pen, and began drawing small flowers along Touya’s shirt collar. He still listened - the shine of interest remained - but he started to draw along the hem of his shirt sleeves while Touya seemed completely unbothered, if a bit pink in the cheeks. He picked out more pens and drew more little doodles on any free space he could find on Touya’s shirt.

Rei felt her heart swell. She wanted to just leave them be and enjoy their moment together, but Keigo needed to eat and given how small he was, he hadn’t been doing a lot of it. She walked over and carefully set down the plate of fruit in front of them. Keigo immediately pulled away, looking down at his hands.

“Eat as much as you want,” she said, though it was more directed at the red winged boy than Touya.

“Thanks mom!”

She tilted her head to the side, “Is Keigo going to be staying for dinner?”

Touya looked up from his work and turned to Keigo, “I dunno, can you?”

Keigo’s face fell into a frown and he slowly shook his head.

“That’s alright,” Rei said, “I’ll be sure to send you home with something. As a gift.”

Keigo nodded, still not meeting her eyes. “Thank you…”

Rei left shortly after, hearing Touya trying to start up a conversation with his feathered friend with an excitement Rei had never heard from her son that didn’t involve trying to train with his father. It was new and untethered, almost like a breath of fresh air after being suffocated by smog.

Touya was happy - really happy.

Rei started down the hallway to Enji’s home office. She gathered an armful of highlighters, pens, and the few markers in his drawers.

She sent Keigo home with them and a sizable tupperware of food that night.

(This was a lot more Rei centered than I initially thougt it would be. Still a little wonky but I'm still trying to get back into the grove of things. Thanks to everyone who voted on the poll! Will probably make another one soon).

[vacate-et-scire]

Yo! I saw that you were doing blue lock matchups so i had to join in! (english isn’t my first language so sorry if my grammar sucks)

Im a scorpio i dont know my personality type yet.

I enjoy going outside i love walking around the block with my dog, i also enjoy skateboarding, when im inside im usually messing with my dog or playing video games (im obsessed with guilty gear). I really enjoy music too my favorite artists is Femtanyl. I also like to draw, a little too much i doodle on everything even homework

So for personality im pretty chill for the most party but i talk alot when given the chance to it honestly depends on who im around but i can be really hyper when around friends or more keep to myself when around family or if im at home im also known to be brutally honest when people ask me for advice (why lie when you can just tell them the truth) im also very loyal to friends but, im not the type to get into physical fights for no reason (i actually try to avoid them at all costs) im also very nice sometimes to a fault tho, i sometimes feel bad for things that i shouldn’t feel bad for like if i dont have money to get a gift for someones birthday i feel bad or selfish or i get scared that they will think that i did it on purpose.

What i want in a relationship is someone who likes being outside (i really wanna go camping someday) but also doesn’t mind being inside once in a while who also has alot of energy but can chill when its time to, i also want someone who’s taller than me but honestly thats everyone (im 5’0) i also want someone whos pretty strong because i would need alot of help because im short and im not the that strong tbh

If i had to say anything about myself that would be negative besides what i already said it would be that sometimes i eat stuff with my hands thats not meant to be eaten with your hands like French toast my mom always tries to get me to use a fork but i refuse too because it just taste better that way and the fork gives it a different taste, but dont worry i dont get syrup on my hands i dip it in the syrup so its not messy

Your Blue Lock Matchup: Barou Shoei

Okay, hear me out—Barou might seem like a wildcard pick at first, but he’s exactly the kind of partner who would match your energy and ground you at the same time. The King himself thrives on structure and discipline, but he’d absolutely admire your chill, adventurous vibe. The contrast between your free-spirited, dog-walking, skateboarding self and Barou’s intense, orderly personality would create this perfect balance.

Barou is the kind of guy who wouldn’t shy away from camping trips or outdoor adventures. He’s strong (like, freakishly strong), so your wish for someone to help out because of your height? Consider it granted. Need help setting up the tent or lifting something heavy? He’s already on it, no questions asked. And your dream of camping? Barou would approach it like a mission—he’d make sure you’ve got all the gear, food, and firewood ready, turning it into an experience that’s memorable but also incredibly efficient (because he doesn’t do things halfway).

Now, when it comes to your chill vibe indoors—whether it’s gaming, drawing, or just hanging out with your dog—Barou would be the kind of person who pretends he’s not interested but lowkey loves being involved. He’d probably scoff at the idea of video games at first, but after watching you play Guilty Gear with so much passion, he’d grudgingly try it and end up hooked (though he’d never admit it). And as for your art? He’d quietly treasure every little doodle you make, even the ones on your homework, because he’d see it as a window into how you express yourself.

Barou thrives on loyalty, and you’re loyal to a fault. He’d respect your honesty, even when it’s brutal, because he values people who tell it like it is. Your tendency to feel bad over little things, like not being able to get someone a gift? Barou would squash that insecurity fast. He’s not materialistic—he’d remind you that your effort and thoughtfulness matter way more than anything else.

Your laid-back, "it’s not that serious" energy might clash with Barou’s intensity. He’s someone who goes all-in on whatever he does, and your refusal to use a fork for French toast? Oh, he’d have opinions. But honestly, those little quirks are exactly what would grow on him over time. He’d start off grumbling about how it’s “inefficient” but eventually find it endearing because it’s you.

You’re hyper with friends, but Barou can be more reserved. It might take him some time to fully warm up to your friend group, but once he does, he’d be the protective presence that everyone secretly loves having around. And while he’s not super emotional, he’s incredibly dependable and would be your rock during tougher moments, making you feel secure even when you’re doubting yourself.

At the end of the day, Barou would love how unapologetically yourself you are. He’d help you find strength in your quirks, encourage you to go after your dreams, and be the sturdy, supportive partner who reminds you to never settle for less. Plus, he’d 100% back you up when your mom tells you to use a fork for French toast.

[ackermanbitch]

Teenage Dirtbag (Peter Parker x Fem!Reader) Part 3

a/n: honestly this series prob wont even get a lot of attention but im very much enjoying writing it. also if you havent noticed reader isnt.....the brightest. like ofc shes smart in some senses, just not all of em. also we're pretending that civil war didnt escalate as fast as it did so my comedic filler makes sense :D

Part One

Part Two

pairing: peter parker x fem!stark!reader

warnings: cussing

word count: 2.6k

It was Sunday, she met up with Peter on Saturday and her dad was tired of asking himself, so instead he was sending in every Avenger to question his daughter.

First was Wanda. He knew her and (Y/N) were pretty close so she was a good first choice.

"Hey (Y/N), what's uppp? You were out the other day, right?" Wanda started, sitting on the edge of the teen's bed, watching her write something down at her desk.

"Yup." (Y/N) responded, not turning around to look at the redhead.

"Ohh, cool cool. What'd you do?" She tried to keep the tone light, but it was obvious she wasn't just chatting. Right now, (Y/N) couldn't really tell but Wanda's words sounded so forced.

"Homework." She swiveled her chair around to face Wanda, smiling slightly.

"You... Went out to do... Homework?"

"Yup, just homework. Math."

"..."

"Got quite a bit done actually, it was nice."

"Quite a bit, huh?" So, if she got a lot of work done, it meant there wasn't anything else she could've been doing. That was a relief.

"Yeahhh.. I actually have some more to do so if you don't mind..." (Y/N) mumbled, turning back to her desk where she most definitely wasn't doing any important work. Just doodling on the edge of her history assignment.

Well, that was a failure, next up: Steve, who's only doing this because he's also worried about the young Stark hanging out with boys, not because Tony asked him to.

(Y/N) always spilled her secrets to Steve, he was just easy to talk to like that. She still gripped her pencil a little tighter when she heard her door open behind her, contemplating putting on headphones and blasting them as loud as she could.

"Hey kid, what's up? What's going on in your world, do anything fun recently?" He asked as normally as he could, walking over to her desk.

"Nothing fun, no."

He nodded, leaning against the white wood, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, did you do anything boring then?"

"It required all my brainpower, so no, I wouldn't say boring either just... Tiring." (Y/N) caught onto the whole scheme right before Wanda left her room, so of course she was going to mess with them by making her responses as vague as possible.

"Tiring?"

"Yup."

"Well, why was it tiring?"

"Like I just said, brainpower. And I don't have a ton of that so yeah, exhausting actually."

Steve raised an eyebrow, "Wanda said you were doing homework."

"Why is Wanda telling you what we talk about? That's kinda weird Cap." (Y/N) retorted, still not looking up from her paper.

"Ah it just uh, slipped into conversation. Tony said you were with someone?" He pried further, being utterly terrible at trying to stay subtle.

(Y/N) nodded, "Yeah, a friend."

"Where'd you meet hi- ahem, this friend?"

"School."

"Makes sense, makes sense..." Steve mumbled, looking down. "What's their name, have you been friends for a while?" He asked nonchalantly, looking back up at her.

"Nope, just started hanging out. Once. Yesterday."

'That's something at least.' He thought to himself, starting to tap his foot. Her avoidance of the first question didn't go unnoticed by him though.

"You plan to hang out more?" Geez, he was determined, was Tony paying him or something?

"Yeah actually I-" FUCK! Steve's easy-to-talk to-ness was getting to her.

He grinned, pushing off the desk and walking towards her door, "Make sure you finish that homework kid." (Y/N) grumbled something in response, rolling her eyes.

'I'm fucked, dad's gonna try and put me on lock down now.' She thought, thinking all the interrogating was over after her slip up. But oh no, Tony wanted a full name and who better to get information than an actual spy?

Natasha didn't waste any time, spinning (Y/N)'s chair around to face her as soon as she walked in. "What's his name?"

"Honestly, I can't remember, it was a whole day ago Na-"

"What's his name, (Y/N)? Tony will just continue bothering you with all his antics until you tell him or one of us, so tell me." Natasha cut her off, gripping the arms of the chair so (Y/N) had no escape.

(Y/N) sighed loudly, "Why does he care so much? I'm sure he has more important things to worry about, you know, 'cause he's Iron Man and all? Like that meeting no one will tell me about, but I definitely deserve to know about."

"Because you're his child, (Y/N). Your safety is more important than the world's safety in his opinion. He might not tell you enough, if at all, but he will always put you above his work, even if that work is saving the damn world." Natasha let go of the chair, squatting to (Y/N)'s level, "And no, you don't need to know about the meeting, so don't bother asking anyone else about it, kid."

(Y/N) stayed silent, grinding her teeth as she thought. Terrible habit that she most definitely got from her dad. "Peter isn't a threat, Nat. He's just a sweet guy trying to help me pass." She took a deep breath before continuing, "I'll tell you his last name for fucks sake, if you make sure my dad doesn't try to lock me up in response. I'm seeing him next weekend for more tutoring, and he really helps, I swear."

Natasha nodded, "I know he's not a threat because I know you-" She lightly jabbed her finger into (Y/N)'s chest, "are smart. Smart enough to know who has bad intentions and who doesn't. Of course you wouldn't willingly go to a guy's apartment by yourself if you didn't think he was harmless."

"How did you know I went to his apar-"

"Name, (Y/N)."

"Parker. His name is Peter Parker."

-----

"Parker? I knew it!" Tony exclaimed, sighing in relief.

"Wa- wait! You knew who it was and still made us interrogate her?!" Wanda questioned, throwing her arms up in the air. Steve scoffed, rolling his eyes and Natasha just leaned back with a sigh.

"I'm just glad I didn't have to go in there, she scares me." Sam mumbled, taking a sip of his drink.

"I had to make sure, there's plenty of Peter's at Midtown and I didn't think the kid would ever have the balls to dare hang out with (Y/N) Stark of all people." Tony explained, "He's just a nerd, I'm sure she's paying him quite a bit to have him do her homework."

Wanda raised an eyebrow, "He didn't do it for her, Tony. He helped her, she told me."

"With math? I don't know, I couldn't even tutor her." He shook his head, crossing his arms.

"Maybe she needed someone her age to help her, a friend." Wanda retorted before standing up and leaving the room with more sass than necessary.

Tony just huffed, "He definitely did it for her."

-----

The Sokovia Accords. Tony wanted to sign them, Steve didn't. What were the Accords even for and why wouldn't Steve sign them?

(Y/N) hid around the corner that morning, eavesdropping on the Avengers. She didn't stay long enough to get all the information so she wouldn't be late for school, but she still tried to piece things together as she rode in the backseat of the black car Happy was driving.

Accords, accords, accords... Must be some treaty. Obviously has to do with Sokovia, which means Ultron, which means the Avengers. Are they going to sign a peace treaty with Sokovia? Why would Steve be against that, he's all for peace, freedom, all that... And why would they need to sign something like that, they saved Sokovia?

(Y/N) groaned, dropping her head against her headrest, closing her eyes.

"Something wrong?" Happy asked suddenly, making (Y/N) open her eyes.

"I just have a test today." She lied, seeing the dreaded school come into view. Happy parked down the street, as always. It wasn't Happy himself she was embarrassed of or anything, it was the fact she had a chauffeur and was still going to Midtown High out of any school. People already talked about her being a spoiled brat in the halls, pulling up in a fancy black car every day didn't help.

She hopped out of the car, swinging her backpack over her shoulder and thanking Happy for driving her, as if he didn't drive her almost everywhere.

After getting a notebook and pencil bag out of his locker for first period, Peter slammed the door shut. "Hey Parker, I wa-"

"Jesus Christ!" He stumbled to the side, not having noticed (Y/N) standing behind his locker door with her arms crossed. "Do you know what the Sokovia Accords are?" She asked nonchalantly. Who else would she ask? He's a nerd, he must know all about stuff like this.

"I- the what? No, I don't think I've heard of that." He shook his head slightly, looking around for Ned to save him before Flash saw him and (Y/N) talking. Flash asked her out at every turn, always being denied quite violently and if he saw who he thought was the lamest loser on earth talking to her, he'd probably do more than call him names.

"Okay well, what do you think it is?" She continued, leaning forward slightly. She still had her backpack on, apparently going straight to Peter's locker. How did she even know where his locker was-

The brunette stuttered, "I mean- I- Could we maybe talk after class? L- lunch maybe?" He asked, still looking around to make sure Flash wasn't in the vicinity.

"Okay, lunch, I'm holding you to that Parker, this is important." She nodded, turning away to run to her first class. "Also," She began again, looking back at Peter, "don't tell anyone what I asked you, or else." She added, finally leaving the confused boy to his own.

-----

It felt like a million years before lunch rolled around, (Y/N) currently stood surveying the cafeteria for her resident nerd. She usually sat in her homeroom while she ate to avoid Flash and his goons, so the lunchroom was pretty foreign to her.

She still made it to the table easily, dropping onto the bench next to Peter, making him jump and squeeze the apple in his hand so hard it broke.

"Jeez, do you work out?" She mumbled, "Never seen someone break a fucking apple in half."

Peter laughed awkwardly, quickly wiping his hands off with a napkin while Ned also stared at him wide eyed.

"Anyway, this is Ned, right?" (Y/N) asked, setting her chin in her hand. Ned nodded, "You know my name?" He asked, eyes still wide. "Uhm yeah, why wouldn't I? We're in like three classes together Ned." She laughed.

He laughed a bit too, "We've never talked much, but Peter told me all about your study da-"

"Ned!" Peter interrupted, kicking his friend's shin under the table. Ned gasped, looking at the brunette in mock offense. "Dude, what, you wouldn't stop ta-" Another kick, and another.

Peter cleared his throat, turning to (Y/N), "So uh, Sokovia Accords?"

(Y/N) raised an eyebrow at Ned before looking back at Peter, "Yeah, ever head of em'? No reason, just- curious."

He hummed, "No, I haven't. Sounds like a pea-"

"Hey (Y/N), I have some questions myself actually." Ned interrupted, kicking Peter's shin. Peter gaped at him, about to kick him back before (Y/N) responded, "Sure, what's up?"

"What's Captain America like? How tall is he? Have you held his shield? How much does it weigh? Y'know, heavy, light, weightless? What's Hulk like? How tall is he? Why is he green?" Ned rambled, ignoring Peter's glares.

"She's not your Wikipedia, dude-"

"Hmm, Cap is nice, he's like six foot something. No, I haven't held it, I'm not allowed to touch stuff like that," She rolled her eyes before continuing, "But he carries it like it weighs nothing, but he is really strong so maybe it's really heavy but why would you use something heavy as a weapon if you have to use it often so it's probably not very heavy. Hulk is well, Hulk, he's at least 8 feet tall and I have no idea." (Y/N) rambled, talking with her hands at certain points.

Ned nodded slowly before giving Peter the cheekiest smile he could.

"So, Accords. You think it's a peace treaty too? That's what I thought but it doesn't make sense. There's nothing between America and Sokovia.." She mumbled the last part, looking at Peter expectantly.

"Where'd you hear about this? Sounds pretty serious." Peter asked, wondering why the hell this girl who just started talking to him is spilling government secrets.

"I live with the Avengers Parker, I hear eve- Can he be trusted? Can you be trusted?" (Y/N) suddenly asked, remembering that this is extremely confidential and that she's not even supposed to know about it.

Peter nodded quickly, "Yea- Yeah, Ned won't tell anyone, and neither will I, not like we have anyone to talk to."

"That's what I said!" (Y/N) exclaimed, dropping her fist on the table suddenly. Peter raised an eyebrow but didn't say anything, waiting for her to continue. "You know, we should hang out more often. You guys are chill- actually, wanna come over? We could talk more about this and like study or something." She grinned, looking between the two boys expectantly.

"I- wait- you're inviting us to your- place? Like Stark Tower?!" Ned gasped, Peter kicking him again and (Y/N) waving her hands quickly, "Don't- yell that!" She whisper yelled, looking around to make sure no one heard. "Why wouldn't you want people to know you live with the Avengers?" Ned whispered back, "It's the coolest thing ever!"

"Not everyone thinks it's cool, why do you think no one talks to me Ned?" She asked, still checking for any eavesdroppers. "So, you up for it? It's fine if y-"

"Yes."

"Yes!"

They answered in sync, Peter bouncing his knee nervously.

"You're hanging out with those losers, Stark?"

"MJ! I didn't notice you there, what's up?" (Y/N) smiled at the quiet girl who was at the other end of the table with a book in her hand. They knew each other from detention, (Y/N) ending up there with too many late passes and MJ was there because... The young Stark had no idea, but she was always there.

"Nothing, just watching this rare encounter of the nerds and 'Richie Rich'."

(Y/N) just smiled politely before looking back at the boys. "Just walk around the corner after school, I'll pick you up. Now I gotta go before Flash hunts you guys down, see ya!" She grinned, standing from the table and leaving the cafeteria with not another word.

"Dude, she's awesome! Pinch me, man, pinch me!" Ned exclaimed, trying to get Peter's attention, who was still staring out the door to the lunchroom.

"I know, right?" He mumbled, his chin resting in his hand.

a/n: yall can tell reader has like never had real friends right? just casually walking up to peter and talking to him like theyve know each other for years💀social cues are nowhere to be found

[my-unmanageable-mischief]

Potion Partners

For charlieswanwhore  who requested : hi !! can i request a remus lupin x slytherin! reader fic ?? maybe the marauders don’t really like her but remus really likes her and stuff ahah thank you!

 Remus Lupin x Reader

“Everyone pick a partner, they’ll be your partner for the rest of the year so choose wisely.” Slughorn announced on the first day of advanced potions, seventh year. Remus looked at James, who smiled apologetically, as Sirius was already claiming him. Remus frowned. Peter didn’t get the grades to be in this class, so Remus was at a loss for a partner- he looked around. 

You were sitting by yourself, doodling on a piece of scrap parchment and not paying much mind to the partner picking going on around you. Remus had spoken to you a few times over the years and you were always kind to him, despite your house. Not to mention Remus thought you were probably the prettiest girl in school, and you were a wiz in most classes. 

Before he knew what he was doing he was walking towards your desk, he cleared his throat awkwardly once he was standing in front of you, you glanced up. 

“Do you want to be my partner?” He asked, not sure what bigger power had guided him into doing this. Sirius and James were looking at him like he had sprouted three heads and a tail. You tilted your head, looking up at him from your spot before you shrugged and moved your books over so he would have room to sit at your table. 

“Sure,” Remus smiled at you, sitting down beside you, and you were relieved. You didn’t know anyone well enough in this class to be partners with them, and you had been hoping Slughorn would leave you be and let you work alone. But now you didn’t have to work alone, and better yet you didn’t have to work with someone who wasn’t good at potions- you knew Remus was probably the smartest boy in your year. He said something to you, but you were caught up in your own thoughts so you didn’t hear him the first time, “What?” You questioned, glancing over. 

Remus smiled at you, sometimes he wondered how you ended up in Slytherin with the likes of Snape and Malfoy, you were too nice for that. But then he considered Slyhterin’s good traits.  Ambition, cunning, leadership, and resourcefulness. He supposed you exemplified those traits wonderfully. 

“I asked how your years going so far,” He repeated, watching you relax slightly, he glanced at your doodle and pointed to it, “Hey, that’s really good,” You covered the doodle with another piece of parchment and shrugged again. 

“Thanks. My year is going alright so far. I can already tell I’m never going to stop doing homework,” You chuckled softly to yourself, and Remus found he liked your laugh a lot. “How about you?” 

“So far so good,” He nodded, “And yeah, with NEWTs coming up, everyone is piling it on.” You nodded, and Remus watched you write /potions/ in a pretty scrawl at the top of your paper. 

“You’d think they’d go a bit easy on us, leave us a bit of time to actually study for the exams,” You smirked slightly, rolling your eyes. Remus opened his mouth to respond when Slughorn cleared his throat, gaining everyone's attention. Class went by quickly, and it was mostly note taking much to Remus’s disappointment. He wanted the chance to talk to you more, but alas, he didn’t get it. 

When class was over you said goodbye quickly before gathering your things and leaving the room, Remus watched you go before he was joined by his mates, who were still looking at him like he was crazy. 

“Why did you ask a Slytherin to be your partner?” Sirius asked, eyes narrowed. Remus shrugged at his friends, slinging his bag over his shoulder as they began to walk to lunch together. 

“You lot didn’t leave me much of a choice, besides, Y/N is nice, she’s not like the others.” James rolled his eyes dramatically.

“You just think she’s fit,” 

“So what if I do?” Remus huffed, crossing his arms, “Is that so bad?”

“Yes! She’s a Slytherin mate, they’re the enemy!” Sirius cried out, elbowing his friend in the side, Remus winced rubbing his ribs. 

“She isn’t your enemy, Sirius, she has never done anything to you,” He argued, becoming slightly annoyed with his mates. “Just drop it, alright?” They did, but not without several more grumbles from Sirius. 

You and Remus worked well together in potions, and he found himself really looking forward to the class, to you. You would make idle chat as you made your potion together, and everytime he made you laugh or smile he felt proud of himself. He was even starting to consider you a friend, waving at each other when you passed in the hallway. Much to the other boys annoyance. But he liked it-he liked you. 

One evening, Remus had dragged the marauders to the library in order to “study”, but mostly the others were messing around while Remus did his assignments. 

“Hey Remus,” He looked up in time to see you plopping down in the empty seat at the table, he smiled at you. 

“Hey, Y/N,” Sirius openly glared and James pick up a book and pretended to read. You looked around awkwardly for a moment before going to stand. 

“Just wanted to say hello..” 

“No, stay,” Remus offered smiling, you stilled, easing back into the seat. 

“What?” Sirius hissed at his friend and you did a good job pretending you didn’t hear it. You and Remus talked, you asked him what homework he was working on. James continued to pretend to read and Sirius continued to glare at you. 

“I need to go, just remembered something I need to do,” Sirius announced suddenly, standing up and gathering his bag. 

“I’ll come, mate,” James jumped up eagerly. “Remus?” 

“I’ll be there soon, I’ll catch up later.” Remus leveled his friends with a dirty look, that they sheepishly avoided as they hustled out of the library. 

“Your friends don’t like me,” You smirked slightly, leaning back in your chair as you looked at Remus, who wildly shook his head. 

“That isn’t true,” That made you laugh, and he cracked a half smile, “Okay, maybe not yet, but they’re like that with all new people.” 

“Sure,” You picked a quill up, twirling it between your fingers, “And it has nothing to do with me being a Slytherin?” 

“Well...” Remus picked nervously at his jumper, you chuckled again, reaching over to pat his arm. 

“It’s alright, really, I’m used to it.” You assured, “We’re not all dicks,” 

“I know you’re not!” 

“I know you know, Remus,” You assured again, smiling gently at him. “I’ll let you catch up with your pals, I only came to nag a book anyways, I’ll see you around?” You offered, standing up, Remus followed suit, standing as well. 

“Yeah sure, sounds good.” You smiled and turned to walk away, “Hey, Y/N,” You paused and turned, “Maybe we can study sometime?” 

“I’d like that,” You nodded, “Goodnight, Remus,” 

“Goodnight!” 

Remus came back into the common room and went to his little group of friends who were in their usual spot by the fire. Remus joined them, plopping down. 

“Where have you been mister?” James jokingly chidded, “It’s nearly past your bedtime,” 

“I was studying with Y/N in the library.” James and Sirius both made faces, Sirius going as far to pretend to gag. Remus’s face fell, “Can you lot knock it off?” 

“Sorry, mate, but it’s gross.” James shrugged, “She’s a Slyhterin, you have a massive crush on a bloody Slytherin.” Remus flushed. 

“It’s not massive,” 

“Ah-ha! So it is a crush!” James pumped his fist into the air, leaning back in his chair, “I knew it,” 

“He doesn’t hide it, making googly eyes at her all class,” Sirius rolled his eyes. “Can’t you pick literally any other bird here? There’s some fit Hufflepuffs,” 

“You guys are just arseholes.” Remus got up with a huff, “And for your information, I plan on asking her to Hogsmeade this weekend, so get used to it,” And with that he retired to his dormroom, leaving his friends in his wake. 

The next potions class you had together, he was dead set on asking you to Hogsmeade. He almost asked you three times while you made your potion together but everytime he lost the nerve. Finally, as class was wrapping up he took a deep breath. 

“Y/N?” 

“Hmm?” You asked, looking up from your stirring. 

“Do you have any plans for Hogsmeade this weekend?” Your hand paused, tilting your head as you glanced over at him with a small smile. 

“No, I don’t,” 

“Do you want to go? Together, I mean.” Remus shifted nervously under your gaze, but you kept smiling so he allowed himself to be hopeful. 

“Sure, that sounds nice!” 

“Really? Er, amazing, good, I can meet you at 11?” He offered and you nodded, going back to your stirring. 

“Perfect,”

[eury--dice]

for the wip game: what is bruh (deh)? :DD

‘bruh’ is a part of my neverending zoe/evan childhood best friends au. i posted one part of it on ao3 and tumblr (i think that was one day we'll all get still?) but i've always had plans to expand it out into more of a series. i do not know why i called it bruh. i do not know why i didn't change the name of it. it's just been bruh for its entire existence and there's no going back now. i also know that i've posted snippets of it for other ask games before, because i do truly love some of the writing in it, although i can never seem to quite pull it together into a cohesive story. so here's a chunk of it that im 99% sure is unshared and is basically a very short fic of it's own tbh

There’s a tape -- a VHS tape, if you could believe it -- of them at six or seven. Larry was really into filming everything old-style at the time. He captured everything to do with the kids, and filled old cardboard boxes with mountains of recordings that he liked to pull out and display with just a touch too much pride. Most of what he filmed was them playing around in the Murphy’s backyard, and this particular tape was no different -- well, it was, but only on a technicality due to the mode of playing. They’re giggling through the whole thing, high, breathy giggles that seem to burst from their chests unannounced. Both of them have a spatter of wildly colorful flowers in their hair, Zoe’s braided through with surprisingly adept hands by Connor, Evan’s twisted between a few longer strands of hair by Zoe. Star stickers and messy doodles line their faces and arms and hands and, occasionally, clothes, which, if her memory serves her correctly, was mostly her own doing.

In the background, soft aws and laughs come from the Larry and Cynthia and Heidi as Zoe and Evan go through a mock-formal ceremony, Connor acting as cantor and best man and maid of honor and everything, really, except for the ring bearer -- that’s their ancient dog, who was fiercely loyal and eager-to-please, affectionately nicknamed Softy by Zoe and Connor in their little days. The sight of his panting, greying face on screen still brings a smile to the faces of everyone who can remember him.

They must have seen a wedding on TV before the ceremony, and so their little hands had instantly reached to make it happen, as little hands are so often wont to do.

Sometimes, when Zoe and Evan spread out in the living room at either the Hansen’s or the Murphy’s, that tape finds itself playing on TV, both of their child selves promising til death do us part, in sickness and health, with a surprisingly serious air. Evan particularly seems affected by this, going fiddly and distractible like he normally is at school, so they try to find another place to spend their time when at the other’s house.

But the tape isn’t avoidable, much like the feeling Zoe gets when she sees Evan bundled in a scarf. It’s always lurking in her mind, she supposes, but it doesn’t make it less of a jolt when she comes back up from her pre-calc practice worksheet to find Softy bounding up to Larry and the camera on the TV screen. Evan notices half a moment before her, but neither of them make any move to turn the TV off.

At some point she stops paying attention to pre-calc, and her eyes wander to Evan’s face almost directly across from hers. He’s engrossed in the screen, his normal blush light across his cheeks as his own homework lays forgotten under his fingertips. She follows his lead, letting her mind drift back to the tape, and before she knows it she’s watching it, too, laughing at their child selves. Evan laughs, too, but neither of them really say anything.

Somewhere in the mess their hands inch forward until their fingertips are touching, maybe subconsciously mimicking the way their hands are locked on screen. That swooping feeling hits deep in her stomach, and between the laughter and the adrenaline spike she barely remembers how to breathe.

***

He stays over that night, specifically, even though it’s just like so many other nights. He stays in her room, and none of the Murphys blink twice, far too used to it to be concerned about what they may be getting up to. It’s part of their rhythm, maybe, given how more often than not that’s how they pass the night. They’ve been sharing beds since they were little kids, too little to have any concept of personal space or boundaries, and the way his weight settles into the mattress next to her is familiar.

She can’t remember a time they weren’t touchy. They’ve been like that since they were little, before Evan started to become more uncomfortable with touch and before she became more hesitant to touch anyone at all. Touching Evan, though - it was never up for debate, somehow. Not touching him would be a signal that something was wrong, even though every touch between them makes her heart ache with a familiar tenderness. Still, as he settles, he says “is this okay?”

Zoe nods, knowing he’ll glean her meaning even in the pitch black. He untenses immediately at the assurance, and the moment he relaxes is the moment that she does as well. She turns onto her side so that her face looks towards his own and her cheek burrows into her pillow. When his right hand settles on top of the blanket, she reaches for it with her own right hand, her eyes trained on the edge of his jaw, the corner she so longs to press a kiss to but knows she can’t. She settles for squeezing his hand once and lets her eyes drift shut for a moment.

“Sorry about the tape,” he murmurs, his face half-squished into the pillow. Her heart rate drops suddenly, a spike that has her eyes wide open.

“It’s not your fault,” she says. “You didn’t put it on.”

Evan shrugs, just as Evan always does.

“Besides,” she continues, the words surprisingly heavy in her throat, “it’s funny seeing us. We were weird kids.”

“So weird,” he replies, and she lets out a laugh at how tired he sounds while saying it, as though he’s talking about unwieldy toddlers in their terrible twos that he’s currently caring for rather than himself. As though he were just waiting for her to laugh, he slips off to sleep. He’s quite the insomniac nearly all the time, but there’s the rare occasion where he manages to drop off so quickly that Zoe worries he just up and died. It only happens at her house, as far as she knows; if he ever sleeps well at his house, she’s never seen evidence of it.

She’s glad he can sleep, but she wishes she could still talk to him, make fun of their goofy expressions and bastardized vows. It’s weird to miss him when nothing has changed, when he’s asleep and tender and unshifted right next to her, as he’s always been. Always within reach.

Her hand strays towards him, and she pulls it back, feeling an invisible boundary she’s never felt before.

[fallingappleshurt]

Project Pink

Sorry Y’all this one got away from me again and I wrote it while tired, again. Anyways here is some badly written shit and have a good period of existence in the universe!

Oh god my brain is going brrrrrrrr

Techno and Wilbur.

It had always been Techno and Wilbur Soode against the world.

Some would make jokes about how it was because they were identical twins, they got ridiculous questions like ‘If I pinch him will you feel it?’ or ‘Can you guys mentally speak- like through your minds?’ They would roll their eyes and say no, sometimes they’d joke around acting like they could read each other's mind or something stupid but it was rare.

They went through multiple foster homes, refusing to be separated from each other, if they ever were they’d find a way back to the other, because it was them against the world.

Then they got placed with Phil Wingraft.

He was different.

They had been through a few foster homes, some were good, some were okay, and one was really bad but Phil was different.

He treated them like they were normal, he was gentle but not patronizing or condescending, he would joke around with them but also became a person they could trust.

He took the time to learn about their interests, he got Wilbur a guitar and took Techno to the library every week. He took the time to recognize the difference between Wilbur’s crazy fluffy hair and Techno more tame but still wavy curls. Wilbur was taller then Techno by half a head but from a distance it was hard to tell. They both had the same shaped face and the same cinnamon colored eyes, the main difference was Techno had glasses.

They stayed with Phil for a year before they were officially adopted and became a family. A two years later he asked them how they would feel if he started fostering another kid, named Tommy.

“I’d be okay with that,” Techno said, shrugging, he hadn’t really processed it but he’d go along with it. Wilbur agreed too, nodding along, it seemed like it would make Phil happy so why not?

“That’s great, it’ll take a few days for the paperwork to go through, then he’ll be with us!” Phil was grinning, this was making Phil happy so this could make Wilbur happy.

Later they were in their room when Techno kicked the top bunk Wilbur was laying on.

“What’s wrong?” He asked, rolling his head halfway off the bed, trying to look at his brother.

“What?” Wilbur asked, looking over the railing.

“Don’t be like that, I know that look, you look like you just ate a suspicious lemonhead,”

“I don’t have a look like that!”

“Stop avoiding the question!” His face softened, “What’s wrong?”

“I’m just worried about the new kid, Tommy, I-I don’t know, it just makes me worried, what if it changes things?”

Techno was quiet, he bit his lip.

“I get that, it makes sense but I don’t think anything bad will happen. Phil is great and I don’t think he would push us away, he’s not like that. Who knows, maybe we can have a little brother,”

Wilbur huffed out a small laugh, smiling softly, “Yeah, a little brother, that would be nice.”

Techno sighed contently, shifting back onto his bed. They laid in silence for a moment when Wilbur laughed.

“I mean, it’ll be nice for you, I already have one.”

“Two minutes Wilbur! Two minutes!”

Tommy joined them 4 days later, a little blonde dweeb with baby blue eyes. He was loud, annoying, and hyper. He would talk loudly when Techno was trying to do homework, he untuned Wilbur’s guitar, he said it was an accident but they weren’t really sure, and was overall like a bull in a china shop.

Techno was gonna pull his own hair out, Wilbur had come very close to locking him out of the apartment, they were both going to kill him.

It took them two weeks to fall in change completely.

It started when Tommy asked Techno for some help in his homework, it actually shocked Techno, the kid who was so loud and proud of his accomplishments shyly asking if Techno could help him with his math work was interesting, to say the least.

Techno almost said no, almost teased him, ‘What? The Great TommyInnit needs help? I thought you knew everything!’

Almost.

Tommy looked different, fingers nervously tapping on the packet, trying not to crickle it, eyes darting around, even his voice was shaky.

It reminded Techno when he’d ask an old foster parent for help, only they’d turn him away, telling him to figure it out, that they were too busy.

He didn’t want to be like that.

“Sure, what are you learning?” He pushed some of his papers aside, making room for Tommy’s. Tommy grabbed a chair and sat next to him.

“Algebra,” He said, frowning, “I don’t get it- it’s just so weird,” He put his chin in his hands.

“Don’t worry, Algebra is super confusing-”

“Yeah right, you get everything, you’re really smart!”

“You’re smart too,” Techno offered, not sure what to say.

“Then name a time I’ve been smart!”

Techno short circuited.

“See!” Tommy gestured wildly.

“Tommy I’ve known you for two weeks, I’m sure you’ve done plenty of-”

Tommy groaned, “Nevermind, forget it-” He slid off the chair only for Techno to reach over and grab his arm.

“No, I’m sorry, just let me help,”

Tommy made a face but sat back down, “Fine.”

It had been 2 hours.

“This is useless! I’ll never get it!” Tommy stuck his hands in his hair.

“Just try this last problem, you’re so close!”

“No! I’ll just mess it up again!”

“You don’t know that, just try again!”

Reluctantly, Tommy picked his pencil back up and started on the equation. Techno turned back to his paper, finishing up a definition sheet, Tommy’s mumbles drifting in the background.

“Then add the two to get 16?” He looked up at Techno, who closed his textbook and looked over Tommy’s worksheet, covered in half erased scribbles, doodles, and pencil shavings.

“That’s right,” He grinned, reading over Tommy’s work again, “You did it,”

“Wait seriously? I got it right?”

“Yeah!”

“Yes! I did it!” Tommy pumped a fist in the air, cheering. “Thanks Techno!”

“Anytime nerd,”

Wilbur had been messing around with his guitar, sitting on his bunk, scribbling down music notes on a scrap of paper. He’d write a few phrases down and sing them softly to himself, strumming a few chords.

Scowling, he erased half the page, grumbling to himself; “It doesn’t sound right, why can’t I get it-”

“I thought it sounded nice,” Someone said from the bunk beneath him. Wilbur jumped, yelping, he hit his head on the ceiling. He leaned over the railing to see Tommy sitting on Techno’s bunk, limbs tangled around the latter.

“What are you doing? I thought you were out with Techno and Phil!” Wilbur said, sounding harsher and more shrill then he meant to, Tommy shrugged, “I didn’t want to go to the library today.”

“Wish I knew that beforehand,” He grumbled, going back to his music sheet.

“You seem mad,” Tommy observed, twisting his arm around the metal.

“Yeah I’m mad,”

“Why?”

“‘Cause I can’t get these stupid lyrics to sound right and you just scared the shit- I mean crap- out of me.”

Tommy cackled, “I’m telling Phil you swore!”

“Shut up,” Wilbur grumbled, gripping his pencil tighter. Tommy tipped his head to the side, “I don’t get why you’re angry, those lyrics sounded really nice.”

Wilbur paused, “You think so?”

“Yeah! It was really cool!” Tommy said, starting to come up the latter, he climbed onto the bed with Wilbur, “I liked it a lot!”

Wilbur smiled softly, “Thanks,”

“Can you play it again?”

“Oh, uh, sure,” Wilbur sat up straighter, putting the guitar in a better position , “I don’t remember all the lyrics though,”

He started playing, slowly his nerves of playing in front of someone else started to slip away as he fell into the rhythm and flow of the music. He looked up briefly a few times seeing Tommy, smiling widely, eyes filled with admiration. He finished the song and looked at Tommy, who immediately leaned forwards.

“That was so good! Write it down so you don’t forget! Wilbur that was epic!”

“Really?”

“Definitely!” Tommy leaned back, then quietly added, “And I’m sorry I messed up your guitar the other week, it wasn’t on purpose,” He trailed off.

Wilbur shrugged, “It’s fine, you didn’t do any real damage, just messed up the tuning,”

“I was messing with it cause I wanna learn how to play, could you maybe show me sometime?”

“Maybe, I’m still considered an amateur on most standards,”

“Seriously?!”

Tommy went to the same school as them, he was in the sixth grade while Techno and Wilbur were in 8th, so they saw each other in the halls every once and awhile. The one thing Tommy hadn’t been able to learn, despite the fact he had learned algebra, basketball, and some of the guitar, was how to tell Techno and Wilbur apart when they weren’t standing directly next to each other.

They had tried everything, Tommy would try to memorize the different clothes they wore each morning, the small differences in their hair, how they walked or moved around but nothing worked.

One day when they were in the car on the way home from school, Tommy was pouting, or ‘stewing’, as Phil would say. He barely talked the whole ride home.

“Alright I’ll bite,” Wilbur said, turning around in the front seat, “What’s wrong?”

Tommy frowned at him, “You both completely ignored me all day! I tried to get your attention so many times!”

Techno raised an eyebrow, “I never once heard you call my name,”

“Me either,” Wilbur confirmed, Tommy looked skeptical.

“How do I know that you guys aren’t messing with me?”

“He’s got you guys there,” Phil said from the driver's seat.

“We weren’t ignoring him! I swear, you must have gotten us mixed up again!” Wilbur insisted, waving his hand.

Tommy groaned, “Why is it so hard to tell you guys apart! Hey, could you just make it easier and not be identical twins?”

Phil cackled in the front, gripping the steering wheel tighter.

“It-It doesn’t work like that Tommy,” Techno snorted, half covering his mouth with his hand.

“Oh come on! Just try it!”

Tommy was trying, he really was, but it was so hard to tell them apart. He knew Wilbur’s hair was crazier and he was Taller then Techno and that Techno had glasses but it didn’t help at all.

He’d go to ask Techno for help with homework only to find Wilbur, who also didn’t know jackshit about algerbra, or if he wanted to do something stupid he’d end up accidentally telling his plan to Techno who would immediately veto the idea.

After awhile he just decided to just try and slow down and see if one of the clones had glasses or not and that worked for him, sort of.

A few months later and they officially adopted Tommy into the family, he was an official Wingraft.

They went out and celebrated, laughing and making stupid jokes, it was nice. Then the next day Techno went to the store by himself, taking some of the money he had saved up from chores and searched a bottle of pink hair dye.

Picking out a color was surprisingly difficult, there were so many choices, taffy, bubblegum, creamy, carnation, but he eventually decided on ‘Rose Pink’. He bought a bottle then hid it under his bed, he needed to wait for the right time to do it because the dye had to sit for at least 30 minutes before he could rinse it out.

Phil was working late on Wednesday and Wilbur was going to see a movie with friends after school so he just had to lock Tommy out of the bathroom for like 45 minutes, which he would have no problem doing, and everything would be set.

The day rolled around and he found out that dying your hair is easier said then done, so much easier.

Techno set down so many paper towels in hopes to catch anything that might drip, then there was the process of making sure he got it all and wearing the plastic gloves made everything much harder to handle but eventually he was able to get the dye in place.

He set a timer on his phone then pulled out a book, hoping Tommy wouldn’t try to bust down the door, it didn’t lock but Techno had taken a rubber band from the door handle and wrapped it around the facut to try and give some semblance of a lock. All he had to do was wait.

Tommy was sitting on the couch watching TV when Phil arrived home, Wilbur in tow.

“Hey Tommy, how was your day?”

“Pretty good, nothing really interesting happened though,” He responded, “But Techno has been in the bathroom for like an hour,”

Wilbur raised an eyebrow and Phil asked, “Is he okay?”

“I guess so, I heard the shower running just a minute ago,”

Phil walked over to the bathroom door and knocked, “Tech? You okay in there?”

Tommy heard the door swing open and Techno say, “Yeah I’m fine,” Phil didn’t say anything but Wilbur started laughing loudly, throwing his head back. Tommy turned around on the couch and saw Techno standing there, towel around his shoulders to stop water from dripping onto his shirt, hair the brightest shade of pink Tommy had ever seen.

He froze, much like Phil did, before he broke out into a grin, then a laugh, “Techno what-”

“Now you should be able to tell us apart,”

[aomine-ryo]

Can you do a scenario where the s/o has a really bad day and people from the school were bullying them and once they get home they break down for a while. Then the GoM (and kagami if you can) come to their house to give them cuddles and do whatever they can to take their mind off of everything that happened that day. (Srry if it’s really specific it happened to me recently and it sucked).

This kind of took some time to write, but I hope you feel okay now!! I hope you like this too :) x

Scenario: GOM + Kagami comforting their s/o who had a bad day

• Kuroko •

You weren’t exactly having the best of days. You had woken up late that morning and you looked like an absolute mess because you didn’t have time to get ready. You also accidentally left your homework that you were up all night doing on your desk at home, so you had to spend your recess in detention as a punishment. You didn’t have any classes with Kuroko that day and recess was the only time you would’ve gotten to spend time with him, so that just added onto your frustration.

There was this group of girls in your class who hated you for absolutely no reason than to boost their ego. Normally, you didn’t really mind whatever they said or did to you because you learned that all they wanted from you was a reaction. However, when you got back to class at the end of the day after speaking with one of your teachers and found your notes with important exam prep on it on your desk, completely covered in scribbles of insults and horrendous doodles, you couldn’t help but break down. You were absolutely exhausted that day and this was the last straw.

You quickly grabbed your things and rushed out of class, ignoring all the snickers and snide comments. You did your best to hold back your tears as you headed back home, stopping yourself from just completely losing it on the way by telling yourself that you can cry all you want at home without getting any judgemental stares. And that’s exactly what you did.

The moment you got through that front door, you let out all the wails and cries of frustration that had been building up throughout the day. You say on the floor by the door doing just this for a while before you eventually gathered yourself together and dragged yourself to your bedroom.

You pulled your notes out of your bag and tried to see if you could somehow salvage your work, but almost everything had been obscured by their awful work. You tried to redo those notes, but your experience that day had clouded your thoughts and you found yourself on the verge of tears yet again.

Just as you were about to go for round two of your breakdown, you heard the doorbell ring. Confused, you quickly rubbed your teary eyes and answered the door. Standing at your doorstep was Kuroko and Nigou, who let out a cheery bark upon seeing you which brought a small smile unto your face. “Hey, what are you guys doing here? Don’t you have practice?” you questioned, your voice sounding more strained than usual.

“Yes I did, but you didn’t come to visit and I got concerned. Also Furihata told me that you didn’t look too good in class today,” Kuroko explained as you let him and Nigou in.

“Sorry, I’m just not having a good day,” you sighed as the two of you took a seat on the couch.

You tried to explain what had happened, but you didn’t get very far as recalling the memories caused tears to stream down your face yet again. Kuroko pulled you into a hug almost instantly, holding you close and shushing you to calm you down.

“It’s okay, you don’t need to explain anymore. How about we do something to get your mind off of it?” Kuroko suggested softly as your tears began to stop.

“Like what?” You sniffled.

“Have you ever built a fort before?” He asked and you shook your head no. “Well, let’s do that. We can sit in it, relax and play some board games. How does that sound?”

“That sounds fun,” you said, a faint smile appearing on your face.

You and Kuroko spent about half an hour setting up a fort in your bedroom, using all the cushions, blankets and pillows you could find to make it as comfortable as possible. You drew the curtains shut and lit up the inside of your fort with fairy lights- it was truly magical. Once you were done, the two of you crawled inside excitedly, with Nigou following closely behind and making himself comfortable on your lap. Building the fort alone was able to make you slowly forget about your day, and after a few rounds of board games with Kuroko your mood had completely lifted.

“This was such a good idea. Thank you for coming to check up on me,” you smiled gratefully at your boyfriend.

“Of course. I’m glad you’re feeling better, Y/N-kun,” he smiled before placing a light kiss on your cheek.

• Kise •

Wednesdays weren’t your favourite days by a long shot. For starters, you had three periods of your least favourite subject and absolutely no free periods. On one particular Wednesday, you hadn’t gotten a good sleep the night before so you were extra exhausted during classes. It didn’t help that you had a headache that day too.

Of course, the bullies in your class didn’t help make the situation any better. They’d often pass snide remarks at you whenever the opportunity presented itself but you chose to ignore it, though each comment pushed you closer and closer to losing it.

The only good part of that school day was during recess, when you got to spend time with Kise, who managed to cheer you up slightly. However, your conversation kept getting interrupted by your bullies, who kept trying to pull Kise away from you, even though he didn’t seem even the slightest bit interested in them.

You thought you had managed to survive to the end of the day, but when you took your seat to pack your things, you felt your skirt get wet. You immediately stood up and realised that some girls in your class had poured a puddle of water onto your chair.

“Guys look, Y/N wet themselves,” one of your bullies pointed out, making everyone around them burst into a fit of snickers as your face began to heat up.

“I didn’t, there was water—“

“I can’t believe a loser like you is dating a model,” another snorted, causing tears to well up in your eyes.

You quickly grabbed your things and ran out of the class, not noticing Kise who was waiting for you by the doorway, witnessing the entire thing.

Kise shot them a glare, “You guys are so immature,” he scoffed at them before rushing after you.

Meanwhile, you were heading towards your house as quickly as you could, trying your best to contain yourself as well as avoid any eye contact with the passersby. You just wanted to get home, where no one could see you and your soaking wet skirt.

“Y/N-cchi!” you heard Kise call out from behind you, which only made you walk faster because you didn’t want him to see you like this. He easily caught up though. “Hey I saw what happened back there—“

“Please don’t talk about it,” you flinched immediately, tears now streaming down your face.

“Sure. You can tie my jacket around your waist if that helps,” he offered and you accepted, feeling a bit better about the situation now that no one could see your skirt.

“Thanks,” you sniffled as the two of you approached your house.

Kise waited for you in the living room while you went to have a shower and change into a fresh set of clothes. You weren’t crying anymore, you just felt numb, and Kise could sense that when you dragged yourself to the couch with a pitiful look on your face.

“Hey, why don’t we go out and get some icecream? My treat,” Kise suggested in attempts to get your mind off of things as you began to cuddle up next to him on the couch.

You lightly shook your head, “No thanks, I don’t feel like moving,” you mumbled.

“Alright, then what about a movie? We can watch your favourite!” he said, hoping the cheeriness in his tone would somehow improve things. And to some degree, it did, as a faint smile creeped across your face at the idea.

“That would be nice.”

So the two of you spent that afternoon cuddled up on the couch watching a movie of your choice. The smell of Kise’s cologne brought you comfort as you began to lose yourself in the plot of the movie. As his fingers began to mindlessly play with your hair, you felt your mood slowly get better, the way he held you close making you feel loved and cared for.

Kise had this habit of not being able to hold himself back from making commentary during movies and TV shows. It was one of the main reasons you didn’t take him to the cinema with you. However, his stupid questions and lame jokes definitely played a role in your mood improving that day as you found yourself in fits of giggles every now and again.

“You have the most adorable laugh, Y/N-cchi,” Kise pointed out halfway through the movie after hearing you laugh over one of his awful jokes.

“Your jokes are terrible but thanks for making me laugh— I needed that,” you said as you looked into his eyes gratefully.

“I’m glad you feel better, but my jokes can’t be terrible if they make you laugh that much,” Kise said with a smile, his fingers still playing around with your hair

“I’m laughing because they’re terrible.”

“So mean, Y/N-cchi,” Kise pouted, making you giggle.

“I’m sorry. I love you,” you said softly, the smile returning onto Kise’s face.

“I love you too.”

• Midorima •

You had been working tirelessly on schoolwork for the entire week that by the time Friday loomed around, you were absolutely exhausted. You weren’t able to have breakfast before you left the house that day so you were in a really bad mood. You kept telling yourself that you just had to make it to the end of the day, but it seemed so out of reach that you had began to slowly feel discouraged.

By the time the last lesson came around, you had fallen asleep at your desk, causing you to miss out on important notes during the lesson. The sound of the bell caused you to stir awake, and it took you a moment before you started to panic over the missed notes. Although your problems didn’t end there.

Everywhere you looked, your classmates kept staring at you and giggling. You didn’t look too much into it at first because you were far more concerned about your notes, however, you caught a glimpse of yourself in the reflection of the window and suddenly your notes became the least of your worries. The words “I’m a loser” were written across your forehead in permanant marker.

“You look like an idiot, but at least you’re self-aware,” one of your bullies who was clearly behind it said to you, causing some people around them to snicker.

Normally, you would’ve snapped back at her with some clever comeback, but you were just so exhausted that the whole situation was utterly overwhelming. Between this and the fact that you had missed out on the lesson, you felt yourself on the verge of tears. Before you knew it, you were running out of the class as fast as you possibly could, desperate to escape the awful atmosphere where you were the object of ridicule.

As soon as you got home, you rushed into the bathroom, using all sorts of makeup removers, soaps and cleansers to get the marker off of your skin as tears of frustration streamed down your face. Eventually, you were able to get it off, though a faint trace of it still remained, making you feel pathetic and defeated.

You headed to your room, where you laid face-down on your bed, balling your eyes out into a pillow. You just wished this day had never happened.

You were interrupted by the sound of the doorbell, forcing you to wipe your tears away before you answered. It was your boyfriend, Midorima. “Oh, h-hi Shintaro,” you croaked, avoiding eye contact as you felt timid.

“Hey, you weren’t there when I came to your class after school. What happened?” he inquired, knowing not to ask if you were okay because wit was evident that you weren’t.

“I’m just not having a good day,” you muttered, “I don’t think I want to talk about it right now.”

“That’s okay. Is it alright if I hang out with you?” He asked, not willing to take ‘no’ for an answer as he didn’t plan on leaving your side until you felt better.

“Yeah,” you nodded, opening the door wider to let him in.

The two of you sat on the couch in the living room together and you were unusually silent, making Midorima feel pressured to do something to fill the silence and make you feel better. When nothing came to mind, he just pulled you into a tight hug because your face was practically screaming for one. You had been able to hold yourself back for some time, but the second his arms wrapped around you, the tears started flowing yet again.

Unsure of what to say in order to calm you down, Midorima just hugged you tighter and began to rub your back, feeling useless for not knowing any better way to help. “I’m not too sure about what happened, but I know that it’ll be okay,” he whispered to you. “I’ll be here for you.”

Hearing those words began to make you feel a little more at ease as you cried into his shoulder. He figured that his best bet was to distract you from your thoughts.

“Hey this might cheer you up,” Midorima said, perking up and reaching into his bag. He pulled out a slice of red velvet cake that was packed into a cute little plastic package. “Takao gave it to me, but I don’t really want it. Would you like to have it?”

You nodded, making Midorima feel a sense of triumph as he wiped the tears away from you cheek before getting up to grab a spoon from the kitchen. The cake was absolutely delicious, and you began to feel better and better with every bite. “Thanks. It tastes really good,” you said to him, your voice still a bit raspy.

“No worries, I’m glad you like it,” Midorima smiled.

Once you were done, you and Midorima remained cuddled up on the couch together. Now that you had finally gotten all the tears out of you, the exhaustion from earlier began to hit you. Nothing was more comfortable to you than being wrapped in Midorima’s arms, so you eventually ended up fast asleep on him. Midorima noticed that you had fallen asleep with a smile on your face and he couldn’t have felt more glad. He was happy to see you so at peace that he didn’t dare move a single muscle to disturb you. He swore that he would stay like this forever if it meant that you’d feel better.

• Aomine •

You had been in a lousy mood ever since you had woken up that morning. You ran out of milk so you couldn’t have your usual cereal for breakfast and you even managed to get caught in the rain on your way to school. By the end of the school day, you had become a ticking time bomb ready to explode.

To your dismay, your teacher had given you the duty to take the garbage out at the end of the day. You reluctantly followed instructions, telling yourself that the faster you got it done, the sooner you’d be able to go home and nap.

You were walking across the courtyard, heading towards the garbage disposal when you accidentally bumped shoulders with one of your bullies. “Oh sorry about that—”

“Watch where you’re going, dumbass,” they scowled before aggressively shoving you so that you’d fall onto the hard concrete. It had caught you offguard and one of the trash bags managed to rip open, which caused the trash to start spilling out. “Better clean that up, trash,” she sneered before walking away all high and mighty.

Just like that, you were ready to break down right then and there. You told yourself not to though, because you didn’t want to feel the judgemental stares of the other students on you. Fighting back tears, you quickly cleaned up the mess and threw the garbage away before washing your hands. You quickly grabbed your things and headed out of school as the tightness in your throat became harder and harder to ignore.

Eventually, you managed to get home, where you immediately broke down into a fit of tears. You cried so hard to the point where you ended up getting a headache. You felt silly for crying so much over something so trivial, however you couldn’t help it. Everything had just built up to that one ticking point and now you had just become a pathetic mess.

Just as the tears began to come to a halt, you heard the doorbell ring. You did your best to wipe your tears away and look presentable, though you weren’t fooling anyone. “Hey Y/N, I didn’t feel like going to practice today and I missed y— wait are you crying?” Aomine said once you answered the door.

“Oh, um, not anymore—”

“Who hurt you? Where are they? I’ll fight them,” he questioned, concern spread across his face.

“No Daiki, it’s fine. I just didn’t have a very good day,” you said, causing his shoulders to sink.

He pulled you into a tight hug, surprising you at first but you quickly melted into his touch. “Hey why don’t we play some video games to get your mind off of things?” he suggested, placing a kiss on the top of your head.

“That would be fun,” you nodded slightly against his chest.

“Great. Don’t expect me to take it easy on you though,” he challenged, making you smile. You liked how he didn’t change how he acted around you in times like these. Aomine being this cocky, playful person brought you much more comfort than if he were to be soft and quiet out of pity.

The two of you sat on the floor in front of the TV, playing. You sat between Aomine’s legs and his arms were wrapped around you, making you feel as though you were in a safe, warm cocoon of love. Although it felt like a cocoon of love, it certainly didn’t sound like one if anyone were to overhear. Both of you were quite competitive so there was lots of yelling and swearing, though it was often followed by fits of giggles.

It only took about ten minutes of being with Aomine until you began to feel much better. You had slowly forgotten about what happened at school to the point where it felt like a whole new day altogether. Every now and then, Aomine would place light kisses on your neck, almost as if to remind you that he was there and that he cared for you. It never failed to make you grin like an idiot.

“Ha! I won!” you celebrated, throwing your arms in the air triumphantly.

“That doesn’t count! You just got lucky,” Aomine tutted. “Let’s play again— I’ll win this time.”

“Sure, if you say so,” you said in a condescending tone, which made Aomine’s competitiveness burst through the roof. You giggled before turning slightly to face him and pressing your lips against his. “Thank you for coming over. I really needed this,” you smiled.

“You don’t need to thank me,” he said, blushing over the kiss that took him by surprise. “I’m just glad you feel better.”

• Murasakibara •

It was a difficult day for you. You had woken up late so you were forced to skip breakfast in order to make it to school on time. Furthermore, when you did get to school, it was so hard to keep up with the lessons because you were tired and found it difficult to concentrate. You thought that having some food from the school canteen would possibly improve your mood, but when you went during recess, it was incredibly crowded there. After nudging your way to the front, you found out that they were sold out on all the food that you liked, so you just settled for a box of chocolate milk for lunch.

After recess, you had to give a presentation for one of your classes, much to your dismay. You found it a bit difficult to be presenting because all you could think about was how hungry you were, but you managed to pull through. However, in the middle of another classmate’s presentation, your stomach let out the loudest growl you had ever heard. Everyone’s heads turned to you and the teacher had to order the rest of the class to stop snickering as your face began to glow red in embarrassment.

The school day finally came to an end and you couldn’t have been more glad to be able to go home. You thought that you had survived the worst of it and you could go home and eat as much as you wanted. However, as you were heading towards the school gates, you were passing by a group of classmates who didn’t really like you. You didn’t think too much of it until your foot got caught by something, sending you toppling onto the concrete. They tripped you. You let out a small yelp of pain as you hugged your scraped knee.

You clenched your jaw in pain as you heard them laugh and say things like, “What an idiot,” to each other. Each passing moment was absolutely awful to you.

You managed to heave yourself up and you did your best to limp all the way home as quickly as you could so that you could clean up the wound as well as cry where no one could see you. You couldn’t help but flinch whenever there was a gust of wind as the air only made the stinging worse. You finally got home and cleaned yourself up, doing your best to do so through teary eyes and shaky hands.

You were about to go to your bedroom and cry into your pillow when you heard the doorbell ring. When you opened the door, you found Murasakibara standing there with a snack in his hand, as usual. His neutral expression quickly turned into a frown upon seeing the state you were in. “Y/N-chin, what’s wrong? Your face is red,” he questioned, not even bothering to greet you.

“Oh I tripped and hurt my knee, so I was just crying a bit over it,” you explained, not wanting to bring up the bullying because you very well knew that Murasakibara would threaten to ‘crush’ them.

“That doesn’t seem like all the details though,” he said, furrowing his eyebrows as he tried to deduce what was wrong.

“I’m just a bit hungry too I guess,” you shrugged.

Murasakibara’s face lit up at the sound of those words. For once, he knew exactly how to help. He quickly put his snacks in his bag and turned his back to you. “Let’s go to that cafe you like. Here get on my back,” he said.

“What? I could just walk.”

“No, you hurt your knee right? Let me carry you. You weigh absolutely nothing to me anyways,” he said.

It took you a moment, but you sighed, “It’s just a scrape but if you insist,” before hopping onto his back and wrapping your arms around his neck while his hand gripped your thighs.

The two of you chatted along the way, though there were far more silences between you than usual because you still weren’t in the best of moods. The two of you managed to gain a few stares, being a 2 metre tall giant with a smaller person on his back, though neither of you cared too much. You never liked being stared at, but when you were with Murasakibara all you really seemed to focus on was him, which was a rather calming experience.

You two finally got to your favourite cafe, where Murasakibara lowered you onto the floor. Both of you ordered quite a lot for yourselves because you were starving and Murasakibara was, well, Murasakibara. It was your favourite cafe for a reason- the food and drinks were absolutely delicious and each bite and sip made your mood get better and better.

“This stuff is delicious,” Murasakibara exclaimed with a mouth full of food, making you giggle.

“Oh right, it’s your first time here. Yeah, this place is great,” you nodded.

“We’re gonna come here every day from now on,” Murasakibara declared to you.

“Sounds like a plan,” you smiled, seeing how much he was enjoying himself filled you with joy of your own.

You two continued to talk like you usually would, which made you realise how Murasakibara’s very presence improved your mood. He didn’t need to try to comfort you, he himself had a comforting aura that seemed to impact those around him. He’d often sprinkle in little compliments into conversation. They weren’t too elaborate, and they were mostly along the lines of a simple, ‘You look cute, Y/N-chin,’ or, ‘I like your hairstyle,’ but they were filled with so much adoration that you couldn’t help but feel warm whenever you were around him. It had a much more significant impact on days like these where you felt quite apathetic; it never failed to make you grin.

“Are you still hungry? Do you want me to order you more food?” Murasakibara inquired.

You shook your head no, “I’m alright.”

With that, the two of you left the cafe and began to head back home, however this time you managed to convince Murasakibara to let you walk.

“Thanks for taking me there. I feel much better now,” you smiled, the way your small hand fit in his enormous one bringing you joy and comfort.

“Hm? That’s good to hear. You’re cute when you’re happy,” he said, bending over to place a quick kiss on your cheek. You felt nothing but content in that moment with him, and you knew that only he could make you feel so loved and appreciated without even having to try.

• Akashi •

Your midterms were around the corner and the stress was eating you up more and more every day. You were up late the previous night so you found it quite difficult to stay awake during class. It didn’t help that you had a pounding headache as well. You did your best not to stay up late because you knew that it could only impede on your mood the next day, however the damage was already done and there was not much you could do to fix it. All you could do was suppress it and try to make it through the day.

Of course, it was days like these that the bullies in your class chose to pick on you the most. Throughout the day, you’d hear their usual insults and rude comments, but you learned to tune them out. The only time you managed to escape them was during your recess, where you hung out with Akashi. It was like his presence had put this protective shield around you and no one dared to approach you or pass any comments.

The last lesson of your day was PE, which wasn’t too bad because the teacher didn’t exhaust you with too many activities. Once it was over, he gave you the task of putting away the equipment in the storage room. Reluctantly, you did as you were told and heaved the things into the room. Just as you were finishing up, you heard the door slam behind you.

Engulfed in the darkness, your claustrophobia began to kick in, setting off a wave of panic within you. You rushed to the door and tried to pull it open, but it wouldn’t budge- you were locked in. “Hello? Could you please let me out? I’m really claustrophobic!” you called out as you pounded your fist on the door.

You received no response, but you could hear the familiar sounds of snickers and giggles on the other side.

You continued to pound on the door and let out cries for help, hoping that at least someone would hear you. Your breaths started to become heavier as your panic grew larger. You kept at the banging for a good ten minutes before the PE teacher finally came to your rescue, though it felt like years. The second the door opened, you sprinted out of there, not stopping to explain what happened to your confused teacher.

Your vision was limited with the tears in your eyes and you could hear nothing but the sound of your footsteps as you ran towards your house. When you finally got to the comfort of your own room, you collapsed to the carpeted floor, hugging your knees for dear life as you tried to catch your breath. Of course, crying didn’t do you any favours and you just sat there gasping for air as tears streamed down your hot cheeks. You haven’t had a breakdown like this for ages. It was like every time you closed your eyes, you were back in that storage room with no one to help you.

It took you some time, but you eventually began to simmer down and you finally picked yourself off the floor. Your cheeks were still red and your eyes were still bloodshot, but the tears finally ran out. The doorbell rang and you took a few deep breaths to calm yourself down before going over to answer it.

To your surprise, Akashi was standing in front of you, with your backpack in hand and a look of concern on his face. “Oh hi Seijuro,” you greeted, doing your best to muster a smile.

“Y/N, what happened? You left your backpack in class,” he said as you let him into the house.

“Oh I must’ve forgotten it,” you mumbled. “Don’t you have practice today?”

“I do, but Reo told me that he saw you running out of school crying so I decided to skip and come check on you,” he explained as the two of you took your seats on the living room couch.

“These girls in my class locked me in the storage room of the gym and I got panicked,” you said softly, hating having to revisit what had happened earlier.

“Who were they? I can complain—”

“No, don’t do that. I don’t want to explain what happened again. And it would only cause more trouble,” you interrupted, feeling a familiar tightness in your throat.

Akashi was quick to notice your lack of eye contact and dejected expression and he immediately wrapped his arms around you, pulling you into a hug. “I won’t say anything until you feel ready,” he said, reassurance in his tone.

“Okay,” you said, nodding into his shoulder.

Akashi scanned the room in search of ways to get your mind off of things. A bulb lit up in his mind as his eyes landed on the stereo set by the TV. He pulled away from the hug and headed over to connect his phone.

You watched his movements with a confused expression, but as soon as he began to play your favourite song you began to smile a bit. He walked over to you and held his hand out expectantly. “May I have this dance?” he asked smoothly, with a small smirk on his face.

Akashi very well knew that you wouldn’t refuse because you absolutely adored that song. The next thing you knew, you were slow dancing with him in the living room. He especially loved spinning you around out of the blue because it often resulted in you erupting into a fit of giggles, which he enjoyed more than anything.

“Are you having fun?” Akashi questioned, once the third song made its way to an end.

You nodded with a grin, “Yes I am. Thank you for coming and checking up on me. This really helped.”

“I’m glad to hear that.”

Akashi pulled you into a hug once more. With his arms around your waist and your head on his shoulder, the two of you swayed along to the music, simply enjoying each other’s company. In that moment, all your troubles seemed to fade away as the only thing that occupied your mind was the fact that you were nothing but loved and protected in Akashi Seijuro’s arms.

• Kagami •

Waking up late and skipping breakfast wasn’t a new experience for you. It happened almost every other day. So when it happened to you yet again, you weren’t surprised and it didn’t really affect your mood in the beginning.

However, as the school day progressed, your lessons got more and more challenging and you were finding it quite difficult to keep up with whatever was going on. You couldn’t help but internally groan, knowing that you would probably have to devote some time after school to try to understand the content.

It was exhausting, but you managed to get through to the end of the day. All that was left was for you to pack your things and leave. Although, your bullies weren’t going to let a whole day go by without picking on you at least once. You were hunched over your bag, trying to organise your belongings when suddenly, freezing cold water was being poured over your head.

With a gasp, you quickly stood up, their laughter sounding menacing. Your mind desperately wanted to tell them off for doing something so crude, but all your body could do was shiver. You were more so filled with frustration rather than sadness, but tears quickly began to well up in your eyes.

You didn’t want to give them the satisfaction of seeing you cry, so you quickly grabbed your belongings and rushed out of class, desperate to get home as soon as possible. Of course, being soaking wet in the middle of winter wasn’t ideal, but you did your best to endure it on your way back.

“Y/N!” You heard a familiar deep voice call out to you as you walked along the pavement.

Turning around, you saw Kagami approaching you with a confused look on his face. “H-Hi K-Kagami,” you said through chattering teeth, quickly wiping your tears away with the back of your hand.

Upon seeing your state, Kagami immediately reached into his bag and pulled out his jersey, wrapping it around your shivering body. “What on Earth happened? Why are you soaking wet?” He questioned.

“S-Some girls in my class poured water over me,” You muttered.

“What? That’s awful. Are they stupid? It’s the middle of winter! Come on, let’s get you home,” Kagami said, putting his arm around your shoulder in attempts to provide you with more warmth as you walked.

When you finally did get home, you immediately changed out of your clothes. As you did that, Kagami prepared some hot chocolate for you in order to warm you up. “Thanks Taiga,” you said softly as you sipped on the beverage that filled you with warmth.

“No worries. Did you have breakfast today?” Kagami asked, knowing your history of waking up late.

“Nope,” you shook your head, “I didn’t have time.”

“Yeah I figured. Okay, why don’t we cook something together?” Kagami suggested, hoping that it would get your mind off of today.

You flashed him a small smile, “That sounds fun.”

You’ve cooked with Kagami a few times before and you always had a good experience with him. He liked to fool around a lot with you as he cooked, leaving random kisses on your cheek and neck and flicking water onto you every time he washed his hands. Of course, this didn’t change this time round either and you appreciated it.

After about an hour of giggles and preparing, the food was finally done, and it looked and smelled absolutely delicious. In fact, the first mouthful filled you with so much glee that you had managed to completely get the incident in school out of your mind.

“This is so good. We could be professionals,” Kagami said, a hint of sarcasm laced in his tone.

“I 100% agree,” you giggled.

Once you were done eating, Kagami took it upon himself to do the dishes, even though you insisted that you’d help.

“Are you feeling any better?” Kagami asked you as he rinsed the soapy plates.

“Yeah. I feel much better thanks to you and your professional cooking,” you said.

“Hey, you were cooking too- give yourself some credit,” Kagami replied, finishing the last of the dishes and wiping his hands on a towel before making his way over to you. He placed a light kiss on your forehead and gave you a gentle smile. “I’m glad your feel better. Also, tell those girls that the next time they pull something like this, they’re gonna have to catch these hands,” he added, his serious tone making you laugh. You couldn’t have asked for a better person to be there for you.

[eyeofthedrgn]

A Heavy Battle Symphony Chapter 5

Catch up here >> AHBS Masterlist

TW: language, mental abuse, verbal abuse, physical abuse, violence, depression, anxiety, panic attacks, self harm, self-esteem issues, sexual abuse (only alluded to briefly in future chapters), just a lot of trauma, angst, smut - lots of lovely gay smut

Chapter 5 - With You

When things go wrong I pretend that the past isn't real

Now I'm trapped in this memory

And I'm left in the wake of the mistake, slow to react

So even though you're close to me

You're still so distant and I can't bring you back

"What the fuck is that?"

He was sitting at the breakfast table doing homework, after he had completed his chores when his aunt and Perrington had walked through the front door. Wearing one of the only t-shirts he owned and a pair of shorts, he sighed before looking up at his aunt.

"What is what?" he said, running his hand through his hair. Though, he knew what she was talking about. Why hadn't he kept his hoodie on? Not that that would have helped, the drawings covered his hand too.

She grabbed his arm and forcefully pulled on it. Lorcan let out a hiss. "What bullshit is all over your cast! That cost good money-" she froze. Understanding dawned on her face, eyebrows shooting up. "Oh. Did you find some people to pity you?" Her words dripped with poison. "You know you're worthless, right? No one could ever love you. You are a bastard born, half breed. Your own mother deserted you!"

"She died!" Lorcan yelled. That was too far and she knew it, but she didn’t stop there.

"She killed herself to get away from you, you ugly half-breed."

Lorcan never wanted to believe that. Never. Not that he was an ugly biracial kid, but that his mother killed herself. Why would she want to kill herself when she had him? Or maybe it was his fault. Maybe he drove her crazy enough to take her own life. Maybe...

Maeve just laughed smugly, cutting off Lorcan’s thoughts as she walked down the hall to her room and came back with a bottle of what looked like alcohol and a towel.

"Arm." He reluctantly held his casted arm out to her as she sat in the chair next to him. She started cleaning the metallic ink away. She wasn't gentle. He clenched his jaw and focused on his breathing.

Lorcan had to admit it was a good plan to get the people who were starting to befriend him, to turn their backs instead. Yet another way to break him down. They weren’t friends anyway, why would they care that their mark on him was gone.

The whole time Maeve was scrubbing his arm, Lorcan couldn't stop thinking about how he wasn't good enough for anyone. Not for his mother and definitely not Rowan. He didn't deserve the sparkle that twinkled in those green eyes when they looked at him. Why would Rowan even look at him like that? He was an ugly, bastard born half-breed after all. Too skinny, awkwardly tall, dark olive skin, black eyes.

His vision was blurry from the tears he wouldn't let fall. He couldn't let his aunt see his weakness.

"There," Maeve cooed. "All better." She looked at him with a sick sense of joviality. "Now go to your room." The way Maeve's voice went from saccharin to steel nearly gave Lorcan whiplash. He quickly went to his room after gathering his things and gently closed the door.

Lorcan closed his eyes and tears leaked out. He wiped them away. Why was he so emotional about this? He never got this emotional about anything. Fuck, he hated Orynth.

His cast was a mess now. Some of the designs were smeared beyond recognition, others completely gone. Maeve destroyed it, like she destroys everything. Elide's trees, gone. Rowan's line doodle was smudged into a big blob, but the 'Ro' of Rowan was still faintly visible. Somehow, that made Lorcan feel worse. Why were there so many emotions he didn’t know the names of when Rowan flitted through his mind?

He dug into his sleeping bag, grabbed his journal, pulled a razor blade out of the spine, and went to the bathroom with his pajamas and razor blade. Lorcan's thoughts were a jumble of negativity, he couldn't sort through them so he just pressed the blade to his forearm, dragging through other scars, deeper than he usually did. He grit his teeth through the pain. Lorcan deserved it. He was an unloved, unwanted mixed race bastard. And he was way too fucking emotional.

After letting his blood drip in the sink until he started getting a little lightheaded, he cleaned himself up, and then changed. His torso still covered in an ever changing modern art painting. He thought that maybe Jackson Pollock would be proud to have a painting that looked like his bruises. Lorcan just huffed a laugh at his sick humor.

Back in his room, he wrote in his journal, recording the worst beating of his life and the following days. Including how stupid he was today, to let Elide's smile cause him such grief once his aunt saw the product of his stupidity.

++++

"Mom, he has a cast!" Rowan was so exasperated. He threw his arms in the air.

Rowan's mom knew he was concerned. He had told her about the bruises he saw on the black haired boy's neck.

After dinner, Rowan went up to his room, pulled out his laptop and decided to video call with the group. He just wanted to think of something besides the pain that filled those onyx eyes that were staring at him throughout lunch.

His friend's only helped a little. They were mostly talking about their homework. Elide read one of her new stories for creative writing. Rowan wanted to ask her if she had read any of Lorcan's work, but he didn't feel comfortable asking in front of everyone. So, he didn't.

---

Lorcan woke up at 5am. He checked the gauze on his arm, it hurt. There was blood staining the gauze. I guess that's what happens when you cut deeper. After redoing his bandage and making sure his blade was secured in the spine of his journal, he threw said journal in his newly repaired backpack that broke last night after he was trying to put his schoolwork away. For some reason, he just didn't feel like his journal was safe being left in the apartment anymore.

After dressing and making breakfast for the despicable adults of the house, Lorcan left for school. He left earlier than usual and decided to walk through the park that was between the apartment and the school. Lorcan's hood was down, his man bun was messy, some of his wispy hairs falling in his face, his hands were stuffed in his hoodie pocket. The rain puddles he walked through leaked into his shoes and soaked into the frayed hem of his jeans. Despite having wet feet, it was a nice morning. Except for the undefinable tightness in his chest and the pain in his arm that he tried to ignore.

Lorcan walked one of the winding paths beneath the trees and noticed that some of the greens matched the color of Rowan's eyes. He shouldn't be thinking of those types of things. Never having had a crush before, he didn't understand what and why he kept comparing things back to Rowan or how his stomach would flip when the other boy flitted through his thoughts.

From behind, he heard laughter from multiple people. He switched paths and started walking faster. The laughter was familiar and he had a feeling it was Elide's and Rowan's friend group. Today, he would do his best to avoid them.

++++

Rowan noticed Lorcan ahead of them on the path and then saw him veer away and speed up. When they were about to pass the way Lorcan had gone, he made a decision.

"Hey, I'll meet you all at school." He didn't wait for an answer or reply to the questioning. They knew he was crushing on the new kid.

Rowan was on a mission. Half jogging to catch up with the long strides of his crush, he finally caught up with him.

"Lorcan!"

Gods above, he started going faster.

"Lorcan, please." He stopped suddenly and Rowan jogged a couple paces past him and turned around.

Lorcan's expression was hard, his eyes blank. They were nothing like they had been yesterday when they were almost hopeful. Today they were dull and vacant, it gave Rowan an uneasy feeling.

"Um, hi. I just thought-"

"You thought wrong." And started his swift pace past Rowan.

"But-" Rowan sighed and just did his best to keep up with Lorcan.

He really needed to work on his cardio, he was a bit winded when they got to the school. Lorcan disappeared into the throng of high schoolers. "Fuck," breathed Rowan.

All Rowan wanted was to be friendly with Lorcan. He was sad and frustrated when someone touched his shoulder.

"I'm sure he'll come around someday," Elide said with a knowing look.

"I just.." Rowan didn't know what he was saying.

"I know. Let's go to class." Elide looped her arm through his and they set off for History of Erilea.

---

Lorcan was sent to the library again for his P.E. class. He sat in a secluded corner, hoping Elide wouldn't find him. She didn't. Thank Hellas.

Pulling out his journal, he decided to write about Rowan, about how he didn't deserve a friend in Rowan. It was strange for him to use this journal for something other than an abuse record. Although, maybe this was a different sort of torture, a personal one. He couldn't have friends, and he definitely couldn't have anything more. They would likely be moving in a month or two anyway.

But Lorcan kept going back to how it felt when Rowan had touched his hand. There were butterflies in his stomach every time he thought about it. Did he really have a crush on this guy? For his whole life, he has done his best to keep the world out and now, somehow his walls were cracking. He was desperately trying to fill those cracks back in, he couldn't break now. He wouldn’t let his walls fall for some pretty boy.

The bell rang for lunch, he was starving, but he wanted to be alone in the quiet. He decided to eat quickly and then come back.

That didn't work out so well.

After sitting at the empty table in the corner and shoving food in his face, the silver haired boy sat across from him. He didn't say anything, he just ate. Lorcan just stared at him, food half raised to his mouth. Realizing Rowan wasn't going to say anything, he continued to eat.

His food was gone and now he didn't really want to go back to the library. Somehow it was comfortable sitting here with Rowan, so he just got out some of his homework instead. It really would be best to go back to the library.

++++

Yes! It was working!

Elide had suggested to Rowan that maybe he should sit with Lorcan at lunch and just be quiet. So he did and Lorcan didn't snap or run away. It was progress!

Rowan felt elated at this, especially when it looked like Lorcan was going to leave, then decided to stay. He did his best to hide his smile. But gods above, he was excited. He texted Elide.

RoRo: it's working!

Ellie: That's because I'm amazing! Haha!

RoRo: omg elide

Ellie: I'm happy it's working, Rowan. I really am. :)

Rowan looked up to see Lorcan lost in thought with his pencil down his cast. It probably itched like crazy. But then, he saw it or lack of it. All the doodle marks were nearly gone. Tears pricked his eyes, and his throat tightened. Was yesterday some sort of joke? Gods, he was stupid.

RoRo: he cleaned his cast off…

Ellie: What? Seriously?

He couldn't sit there anymore. Rowan angrily grabbed his stuff and went back to his usual table with his friends. He just hoped that Lorcan didn't see the tears that fell down his cheeks. It was embarrassing how emotional he could be sometimes.

Fen saw Rowan coming over, he was wiping his face, "You're sure he cleaned his cast off? I didn't even know you could do that without compromising its durability."

"There's smudged Sharpie over the part I could see," he said, wiping his nose with the back of his hand.

Everyone frowned. Aelin threw her arms around him. "He's just an asshole."

---

Lorcan had wondered how long it would take for Rowan to get fed up with him and leave. But he wasn't expecting to see him crying as he left.

He felt like shit. Looking at the exposed cast, he saw Rowan's faded and smudged doodle. Fucking Hellas. This day has turned to complete and utter shit and needed to end.

Thankfully, the rest of the day went by quickly. Elide had ignored him in creative writing. Obviously, Rowan had told everyone. This was probably for the best anyway.

____

Thanks for reading! Let know you would like to be tagged.

@thenerdandfandoms @starlightorstarfire

[goodlucktkachuk]

Frantic -- Matthew Tkachuk (Pt.2)

a/n: And by popular demand we have part two. Hope you guys enjoy!

Part One

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

Instantly a smile covered your face as you pressed confirm. Your instagram was nothing of scandal, mainly  paintings or doodles, a few pictures of you and Emily, and some vacation photos from last summer in Muskoka that you knew Matthew will enjoy. When Mitch reentered the room he shot you a puzzled look.

“What’s got you so chipper mini?” He teased, using the nickname your mom affectionately gave you when you were four and in a phase where you followed Mitch everywhere.

Chuckling, you shrugged your shoulders, “Emily sent me a really funny video of Nick in a facemask.” He laughed at the thought and the topic was dropped.

Around 1am, Mitch was blacked out on the couch next to you so you took the blanket you had wrapped around you and you tried to place it as softly as possible on your sleeping brother. After turning off the TV, you headed into their bathroom to borrow Steph’s makeup wipes. As you stared at yourself in the mirror for the first time that day and you could really see how tired you were. The all nighters of  homework and the rush and fall of going to games had started to catch up with you. You quickly slipped into Mitches closet and grabbed one of his old London hoodies and a pair of boxers. Once you found yourself in your pajamas and the warm embrace of the guest bed you flicked your eyes on your phone once again.

*Matthew_Tkachuk has sent you a message*

Intrigued by what the boy has to say you slid over the notification and unlocked your phone.

Matthew: first of all, what the fuck? Had I know it was you I wouldn’t have said what I said

Y/N: what?

Matthew: You didn’t think to mention that you're a mini marnie princess?

Y/N: why does it matter matty? Not like I live with him anymore. I’m an adult now Matty

Matthew: You’re still Mitches kid sister Y/N! I can’t just brush that off

Your chest ran tight after hearing him call you a kid. You knew you were younger but didn’t see the big deal about it.

Y/N: Oh give me a break, I’m 19, I’m all grown up now Tkachuk

Matthew: prove it, move this to snap and put your money where your mouth is ;)

Your heart fluttered in your chest but before you could enjoy it you found yourself mentally scorning yourself. This was your brother's old teammate and a family friend. Hell, you and Tayrn were attached at the hip everytime you two were together. There was too much history. Even though everything in your mind screamed no you found yourself accepting his proposal anyway before drifting off to sleep.

The next morning you woke up to find there was a sticky note placed firmly on your forehead. Pulling it off slowly, you flipped it over and it read ‘Went out for lunch with some of the team. Text me when you wake up’ The fact he couldn’t have just texted you that made you roll your eyes. You slowly lifted yourself out of the bed and started your staggered walk to the guest bathroom.

The sight in the mirror this morning was actually pretty cute. Your braids were slightly a mess from the night before but it went nicely with how Mitches sweater fit you and how his boxers hung off your hips. You snapped a picture of you throwing up a peace sign and posted it on your story with some witty caption about stealing Mitch’s clothes and looking better in them before hopping in the shower.

After departing from the warmth of the shower you changed back into your jeans from the night before and kept the sweater on. You ordered yourself some food and pulled out your laptop to get some school work done. Before you dove into art history and marketing techniques you opened a snapchat from Matt.

It wasn’t anything groundbreaking. He was sitting in a restaurant somewhere in a nice polo shirt. You could see half his face and his curls were pushed up with a red bandana. You stared at it for so long that you almost forgot to read what it said. ‘Snazzy hoodie you got there mini marnie, too bad it has the wrong name on the back’

You followed suit with your response, only sending half your face with a smirk plastered to your lips. ‘See Marner suits me so much better than Tkachuk so I think I’ll stick with this one!’

Matthew smiles at his phone. He was at a team lunch with the Flames and a few Leafs to catch up before they had to head back to Calgary. It was nice to see all the boys again, especially Mitch even though he had a different Marner on his mind. The lunch was overall pleasant even with all the dirty looks he had got from Auston any time anyone mentioned Y/N. As hard as it was for him not to spew endless chirps, he knew if he ever wanted a shot with you he knew he had to bite his tongue.

Deciding taking photos wasn’t the smartest way to hide what he was doing he texted you back instead. “Ouch Y/N that one hurt a bit. Hopefully in a few years you’ll change your mind ;)”

Y/N: In your dreams, Tkachuk. The team already has me destined to be with Aus so you gotta get in line.

Seeing those words made a fire erupt in his body. He knew you were probably just joking around but the idea of Auston getting to hold you made his blood run cold. Maybe that friendly warning wasn’t in the best interest of Y/N but Auston being selfish.

Matty: Auston has nothing on me sweetheart.

His words stopped you in your tracks. You never thought the juvenile feelings you had for Matthew would ever be reciprocated but here he was playing the game right back.

Y/N: I don’t know Matty, I’ve seen what Austons packing

As soon as Matthew read your text he slammed his phone down with a ‘Fuck’ that was a bit too loud making all the guys look at him.

“What’s your deal?”  Johnny asks, confused at his sudden outburst.

“Nothing.” Matthew says before he picks his phone backup and answers his text.

Matthew: I’m sorry what?

Before you answered, your mind drifted back to the previous summer. Mitch had invited the team and their girlfriends up to your cottage for one of the long weekends. It was a really fun weekend filled with drinking, boating, bonfires and even more drinking. On the last night there, Auston had a bit too much and proceeded to take off his swim trunks and run full force into the lake. Thinking it was hilarious, a few of the other boys followed suit. Unfortunately, because of where you were sitting when this happened, you saw a bit more of your brother's teammate than you would like to.

Snapping back to realted you messaged him back.

Y/N: you read what I sent

Matthew: tell me how good he was and then let me show you something better princess.

A mad blush crossed your face at the thought of Matthew showing you what he could do. You pushed those thoughts out of your head and began work on the lecture notes you were avoiding. Trying your best to push the thought of him having his way with you out of your head.

A few hours passed and the boys all crashed into Mitches apartment. Mo, Jake, and Zach set up shop on the bar stools across from you as Auston draped himself over your shoulders. Mitch leaned over the edge of the counter, all of them talking over each other. You missed having a house full of players all having fun. Matthew texted you again and you quickly turned your phone over before anyone could see it but you weren’t fast enough. Hearing your phone go off and seeing Auston look over your shoulder, Jake shot him a look to which Auston just shook his head and they both frowned knowing it was Tkachuk. Still typing away on your computer, Aus reached down putting his hands on yours and the pressure alone messed you up. As you went to scold him Jake interrupted you.

“So Y/N did you hear the Sandman and his girlfriend broke up?”

“I didn’t actually, I thought they were gonna get engaged?” Not looking up from your screen you tried speaking with as little interest as possible.

He shrugged his shoulders then continued “Guess it didn’t work out” He took a slight pause while Auston nodded at him  “Maybe you two should go out. Mitch mentioned at lunch you aren't seeing anyone.”

“I’m not sure dating another leaf is a good idea.” You responded still trying to feign interest.

“I think that would be a great idea.” Aus chimed in from behind you.

“I don’t remember asking what you thought, Auston.” You bite back.

You could cut the tension between you and Auston with a knife. After about a minute of no one saying anything, Mitch clapped loudly to catch the group's attention before he spoke.  

“Alright boys I think it's time for some Modern Warfare” The boys all nodded and headed towards the living room.

Auston leaned in close, whispering in your ear before going to meet the others, “It’s cause he’s young right? I know guys my age are more your speed these days.”

You flinched slightly, “I don’t know what you're talking about” You tried to say as smoothly as possible.

“If you say so, pest.” The last word basically being spat at you with a hostility you had never felt from him before. He finally let go of you and headed for the living room.

With that comment you had had enough and excused yourself to head back to your apartment. On your way down to the lobby knowing you were safe from the watchful eye of Auston and Jake you decided to answer Matthew.

Matthew: Y/N? Did I say something that's going to get me in trouble?

Y/N: Sorry, got distracted by some homework. Since when is Matty Tkachuk afraid of causing a little trouble ?

Part Three

[bush-viper-cutie]

sMuggled Art

Pairing: young muggle!snape x muggle!reader

Word Count: 5, 262

Rating: E for Everyone

Plot:  Severus is forced to take work in his father’s coworker’s wife’s store where he meets (Y/n). Severus’ view of the world seems dark, and you don’t really make things any better, but there is yet hope to change his mind! 

Warnings: None

A/N: Another request completed for anon! Since Severus doesn’t go to Hogwarts he has (my best attempt) at his North England accent. Hope you like it and the next on the list is the long awaited Crystal Ball part 4! :D

Posted: 8/31/20

Masterlist

---

(Y/n) = Your Name

 ~ * ~ * ~   = time skip

 ~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~ = POV switch

---

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

The front door slammed and shook the walls; Severus and his mother both jumped knowing what was soon to follow. His father was home and it didn’t sound like work had gone well again. His father walked into the kitchen where Severus was eating, his mother was wafting the cigarette smoke out the window before hastily dropping it into a water-filled pan in the sink and turned to her husband.

“They cut our pays. Again!” His father pulled on the fridge door so hard the entire thing moved forward several inches, scraping the tile.

That was Severus’ cue to escape to his room. He didn’t like being in the same room as either of his parents, though he could tolerate it when they were sober. All they ever did was order him around or ignore him on good days and yell at him on bad ones. Drunk, however, he knew what awaited him. He gathered his books and left his half-eaten cheese sandwich on his plate and turned to leave.

“You.”

His father’s gruff voice stopped him in his tracks. He turned, staring up at him as he took a long swig of beer and wiped his mouth on his sleeve.

“You need to start earnin’ for this ‘ousehold.” He stepped closer and stared down at him over his large, hooked nose. His black eyes looked hazy and dark circles made his face look much older than he was. Anyone could look at his face alone and guess an age ten years older than he was, except his large square shoulders and huge bulging muscles would make anyone second guess themselves. He slid his jacket off himself and let it drop to the floor, flexing his arms and leaned over the doorway, blocking Severus’ exit. “T’morrow. I’m takin’ you ‘round to Malv’s wife’s store. They’re lookin’ for an extra ‘and.”

“Doin’ what?” Severus squeezed his eyes, regretting having spoken.

His father smirked and bent down to Severus’ hunched height. “Doin’ wh’ever they ask s’long as it pays.” He shoved him out of the kitchen and slammed the door.

Severus straightened his shirt and cursed to himself, heading upstairs. He closed his bedroom door and sat on the edge of his bed. He had plans tomorrow to do the homework he’d been putting off for the week. He was already falling behind in school, which wasn’t a good enough excuse to get out of doing work. It wasn’t like his parents cared whether he stayed in his disgusting school. His father had, on more than one occasion, talked to him about quitting and starting work in the mill, but there was no bloody way he was throwing out his only chance of leaving this horrid town.

He kicked his nightstand in frustration and winced as the leg snapped with a crunch and the whole thing came toppling over. Pencils and loose paper fell out, along with his black leather-bound journal. It was the most expensive thing in the house, given to him for his eighth birthday by his grandfather before he died.

His father had wanted to sell it, but it wasn’t even worth the cost of gas it took to get to the pawn shop across town. His grandfather had paid good money for it, and in the end, it stayed in Severus’ possession, used to hold his rubbish drawings throughout the years.

He picked it up and started sketching out the broken furniture and shading it as best he could. He sighed and closed it, throwing it back on the pile of loose doodles.

~ * ~ * ~

The next morning he picked out anything that didn’t have obvious patches or holes to wear. He even combed through his hair, per his mother’s orders, and brushed his teeth, ready for work. He dumped out his school supplies from his bag and packed his journal and a few pencils. He hated having nothing to do and carried it with him everywhere. He liked drawing in public because normally no one talked to him when he did, and if they did, he could ignore them with ease and pretended to be too focused on his art.

“Severus! Get down! Now!” His father’s deep voice roared through the house.

He growled to himself and slammed his bedroom door shut, marching down the stairs to where his father stood waiting with his arms crossed.

“Don’t make me late for work,” his father growled.

He was always late for work.

Severus nodded and slipped on his shoes, tucking the laces inside and pulled the door open. His father pushed him aside and walked out first, heading to his old grey car with the paint coming off the sides. He looked around for his mother but she was in the kitchen, smoking again.

“There food I can take? …For breaks?” he called out.

She didn’t respond and he headed out. He walked around to the passenger side and did his best to unjam the car door, finally needing help from his father to get it open. He sat down, hugged his bag to his chest, and buckled in.

~ * ~ * ~

He stared at the rain droplets racing down the window as they drove a few minutes into town. The shops were just opening as the car pulled up to the curve of a street of small and old looking store fronts. The most immediate store had a metal sign with their store name stamped on and rusting on all the edges. It was still in better condition than the wooden sign from the store next to it with bloated letters from all the years of rain.

His father slammed the door closed and walked around the car, pulling the passenger door open with such ferocity the car wobbled in place.

“I’ll pick you up after work. ‘Round seven. ‘ere’s your papers.” His father handed him three folded pieces of paper and pulled him out of the car, slammed the door closed and walked back around. “Don’t mess this up, Severus. Or you’ll be dealin’ with me.”

Severus nodded, clutching his papers and watched his father’s car pull into the street and head back around towards the large looming factory in the distance. The smoke from the factory mixed with the grey clouds, hiding any hints of the sun outside.

He covered the papers from the rain and walked the few steps to the door and pulled but it wouldn’t budge. He pressed his forehead to the window and peered inside, watching as a silhouette of a short woman approached.

He backed away as the door unlocked and a pale, sunken-faced woman with big bushy brown brows stared up at him through golden glasses. She pulled on her string of waxy pearls around her neck and looked him up and down.

He stared back at her and extended his hand with his papers his father had given him. She unfolded and shuffled through them, humming affirmatively after each one.

“I can use you.” She stepped back and let him in out of the rain into the yellow glare of the ceiling lights. “Was ‘oping you’d be… more like your father.”

She squeezed his arms and he recoiled into a shelf, hitting his head against the sharp wood.

“But I s’ppose jus’ your height will do.” She led him through several tight spaces between shelves of porcelain figures and around the front counter into the back room.

The back room was brighter than the main store, using whiter light, and there were larger stacks of boxes piled in the corner behind a single round table where someone sat reading.

“This is (Y/N). Do what you’re told. I’ll be back ‘round noon to check up on things ‘ere. Or might be back sooner. Don’ know yet.” She eyed him up and down with squinted eyes and exited the back room.

After a few awkward seconds the front door creaked open and closed. Severus stood there doing his best to avoid looking at (Y/n), instead looking down hoping his hair would hide his burning face.

~ * ~ * ~

~ * ~ * ~

A tall boy with long inky hair stood awkwardly in the doorway, looking at his shoes, glancing up at you every few seconds, and clutching his beige tattered bag in his arms.

You set your book down and stood. “Sorry about my mum… She can be a bit…” you shrugged, not knowing exactly what word best described the creature that was your mother. “What’s your name?”

His eyes flashed to your face and back down to his shoes, a light blush spreading over his cheeks. “Severus.” He turned his head to look at the wall of advertisements for new porcelain figures and let his hair fall over his face.

“Welcome, Severus. It’s pretty easy what you’ll be doing. Just… restocking and opening boxes while I dust and sit at the counter.” You turn to face the boxes and brought one down on the table with a grunt. You pulled on the tape and opened it up, taking out the little porcelain figure wrapped in tissue and plastic. “You can just set them on that cart over there and wheel it out into the store.”

Severus looked over at the cart and nodded.

You stood there awkwardly, waiting for him to say anything or ask any questions but all he did was hang his bag on one of the hooks on the wall and avoid your eyes.

“The sheet there says what number box to open and how many figurines to take out every morning. Just… let me know if you have any questions or can’t find something… I’ll be in the front.” You closed the box and headed out, closing the door to the back room and went to flip the ‘closed’ sign to ‘open’.

~*~*~

You spent the hour dusting the figures all over the store before finally sitting down on the stool behind the counter – a little high for your liking – and opened up your book once more. Severus had begun restocking the figurines, preferring to wonder around the store like a lanky giant than ask for your help. You tried concentrating on the words beneath you but watching him struggle to find the shelf full of porcelain ducks while carrying a glossy yellow one with a blue umbrella was entertaining enough.

The first customer of the day came through and bought about six of the forest series figures. As they walked out you spotted Severus’ look of disgust and laughed, catching his attention.

“You should see them over the Holidays. The shelves need constant restocking.” You watched a tiny smile grow and felt the air around get significantly lighter.

“But what are they for?” He stepped closer but avoided your gaze.

You shrugged, “They collect them.”

“Waste of money,” he mumbled and continued finding where the last of the figurines went.

~ * ~ * ~

It was around noon now and like she had said, your mother was back. She pushed the door open with her pink faux-leather purse and sneered at Severus in the corner as he replaced some figures a customer had just bought moments ago.

“Got anythin’ nicer to wear? You’re drivin’ down the prices with those pants of yours. They’re too short.”

“Mum,” you cut in before she could embarrass him further. “No one’s even noticed him.”

She turned back to Severus. “Ever think to tuck in that shirt?”

“No,” Severus snapped. He crossed his arms over his chest, somehow looking smaller than before.

Your mother scoffed and headed to the counter, shooing you out. “Go eat your lunches.”

You jerked your head to the back room, inviting Severus to join you. He shuffled in ahead, going straight for his bag.

You unwrapped the brown bag in the corner and took out your sandwich, turning back to Severus. He was bent over the table scribbling in a journal. You pulled the other chair out and sat down, peering over and seeing it was the beginnings of a doodle.

You watched him for a few minutes until he looked up and closed it.

“What were you drawing?” You finished one of your sandwich halves and waited for his reply.

His eyes flickered to you and he licked his lips, getting ready to answer. “Its… Just nothin’.”

“Your tongue was sticking out… You looked pretty concentrated.”

“I wasn’t drawin’ nothin’,” he growled and put his stuff back in his bag. He laid his head down, letting his hair spread out on the table.

You stretched out your finger and snuck a feel, smiling to yourself. You wrapped your last sandwich half and pushed it up to him. “Want my sandwich? I haven’t bitten it.”

He dragged his face up and looked down at the sandwich half next to his elbow. He looked back up at you and raised his brow.

“Take it.” You nudged it closer.

He took the sandwich and began eating. “I don’t take bribes, just to inform you.”

You gave a giggle and enjoyed the slight blush that spread over his cheeks. “You think I’m giving you my sandwich so that u can show me your art?” You leaned forward and grinned. “I’m just being nice.”

“Nice?” He shook his head, “No one’s just nice.”

“What?” You laughed. “People are nice all the time!”

He turned to you, furrowing his thick brows and leaned in. “Everyone wants somethin’. Even if it’s just to feel good ‘bout themselves.”

Your grin shrunk and you looked deep into his eyes, seeing he was speaking his truth, even if you disagreed. You sat back and mulled over what he said, seeing a bit of where he was coming from. What you didn’t understand is how someone could actually think that.

He set down his sandwich and got up from the table, walking over to the bathroom and locked it. You looked at his bag and thought back to the doodle he had been working on. You looked back at the locked door and back at his bag. What sort of stuff did he draw with a mentality like that? He frowned when he restocked, snapped angrily at people, and believed the world to be selfish.

You reach in his bag and pulled out his black leather journal, opening it from the back forward and flipped through pages until you found the first doodle. It was a scribbled mess, but it had begun to take shape into one of the tiny lamb figurines, cowering from a large grey wolf with an open drooling mouth.

You flipped to the next page and saw a broken stand and a few shattered bottles. The next page was a broken mirror and the next a burning house. The page after caught your eye. It was a swing set in the foregrounds and a group of teens talking by the slides of the playground he’d drawn. All of the teens had smiling faces and ice cream cones or popsicles in their hands. Were these his friends? But why did they look so far away? Regardless, his skills were amazing. Everything looked so detailed and precise.

“Couldn’t resist?” A cold low voice spoke from above.

Severus’ hands came down above you and snatched up his book. You turned around and stood to face him, red in the face with embarrassment and shame.

“I-I’m sorry I… I just… It was only a few pages.”

He was fuming, lips turned down with bared teeth. His eyes glistened as he clutched onto the journal. “You can keep the rest of your ruddy sandwich.”

“No, please. I’m so sorry. I wasn’t thinking… I was just curious and I let it get the better of me… I really am sorry. I swear I only looked at a few drawings. I’m sorry. Really.” You were a fool for not realizing how upset he’d be. You’d thought worst case scenario he’d be annoyed, and once the band aid of you looking at his art was torn off, he’d be more open to going through it with you. Best case you’d put the journal back before he came back and your curiosity would be settled.

He stepped forward, towering over you. “No. You’re not. You got what you wanted… So why would you be sorry?”

“Because I didn’t consider your feelings. I thought you wouldn’t care so much about your art. I didn’t think you’d really care.” You hugged your arms closer and watched his expression change.

His furious black eyes took in your figure and he looked down at his book. His frown turned softer. “I don’t care. It’s pointless to care.”

He turned away from you and walked into the bathroom. Within seconds he was back out with empty hands and left the back room to continue stocking the shelves in the store. You made your way to the bathroom and saw he had turned the faucet on the book, soaking it in the sink.

Tears coated your eyes as you blinked, turning the other pages of the journal and seeing nothing but smeared figures and smudged faces. You hadn’t expected such an extreme reaction… but it was still all your fault. You should have realized some people could be very sensitive about their art… even if you hadn’t seen anything that personal in it.

~ * ~ * ~

The next four hours was spent in silence as you helped in the front desk and occasionally restocked some figurines. Severus had refused to even look at you, keeping his eyelids half closed in boredom the rest of the time and responded to only your mother.

The last customer left, and the shop was ready to close. The next hour was spent dusting and counting money until finally your father’s car pulled up on the curb.

“Time to close,” your mother pushed you and Severus out as she locked the shop door and dropped the key in her pocket.

Severus’ bag was noticeably more empty than it had been when he walked into the shop. You clutched your bag closer and felt the journal you had slipped into your bag. You weren’t really sure what you were going to do with it… but you wanted to make things right with him.

You father honked and your mother and you got in his car, leaving Severus standing outside the shop in the rain. You watched him sit against the door and pull his legs in, resting his head on his knees. Your father pulled away from the curb and you sat back, wondering what to do.

~ * ~ * ~

The night air was cold but the rain had stopped shortly after dinner. You gripped onto the handlebars of your bike and squinted at the signs as you rode passed. The torch in your hand kept flickering and the rows and rows of identical houses made biking all the way to Severus’ house in the dead of night seem like the worst idea of the century.

You kept your feet still as the wheels turned on their own down the hill, taking you to the last neighborhood of Spinner’s End. You stopped a few houses away from the house you believed to be Severus’. You took out the note where you’d written his address and shined your torch at the letters written sloppily on his dented mailbox.

You ditched your bike in a bush across the street and headed to his house. You placed your hand on the gate and breathed out, pushing it open and walking down his cobblestone walkway and up the two steps to his front door.

You knocked a few times and heard a door close inside and then quick footsteps. The front door swung open and a tall woman looked down at you. Her eyes made her look cross, but her down turned mouth gave off a sullen air about her. She looked you up and down and crossed her arms.

“S-sorry,” you stammered. “Can I speak to Severus?”

The woman’s sad mouth turned up at the ends. “Severus? And what would you wan’ with him?”

Did she find it funny you wanted to speak to him? “I’d just like to.”

Her smile pulled up higher to show her yellow crooked teeth. “Run ‘long back to where you came from, brasser. Come back when we ‘ave the money to spend.” She slammed the door.

Your mouth fell open and you backed away, shaking with anger. If you could go back several second you’d’ve hit her long pale face square in the nose. She may not have realized who you were and the fact your mother was currently employing her son, but that still didn’t giver her the right to talk to you that way.

You headed out of their property and noticed a shadow on the pavement coming from the house. You turned just in time to see a dash of black hair as Severus pulled his head back inside his window. You looked at the windows at the front of the house and made sure no one was watching you from there before heading around the brick wall to the left side of the house. Severus was hiding under the windowsill, only the top of his head was visible from down where you stood.

You climbed the low wall and shined your torch on the dead dried grass, spotting a ladder. You jumped down and dragged the ladder, pulling it out as long as it’d go, and propped it up on the side of the house. His window wasn’t that high up and the ladder seemed sturdy enough so you climbed, clutching your bag under your arm as best you could.

You reached the top and looked down into Severus’ eyes as he sat under his windowsill still with a red face. You sighed and looked around his room. His door was closed and it looked safe enough, away from the eyes and ears of his horrible mother.

“Are you going to invite me in?”

Severus nodded and moved back awkwardly, still on the floor of his room.

You threw your bag in and ducked inside, doing your best to not fall on your face. You sat in front of him and pulled your bag close. “Severus, I wanted to talk to you and apologize.” You looked around his messy room. “Though I was hoping to do it at your front door but… I suppose this is still the least weird apology I’ve given in my life.” You smiled hoping to lighten the mood.

He shook his head and pulled down on his hair. “I heard… I-I mean…” He pressed his face down into his hands, hiding his red face. “I’m sorry my mam called you a… She… She ‘ates everyone. Please don’t…” He sighed.

You laughed, “Don’t worry. It’s not like you called me that.”

He looked up and watched you behind his hair as you pulled out his black journal.

“I… was a jerk earlier. I got curious and went behind your back… You don’t deserve that… So… Here.” You extended his notebook out to him.

He pushed his hair back and frowned. “It’s ruined. I soaked it.”

You nodded, “Well… The art is no longer in there. It was really smudged. But I cleaned it off as best I could and spent all evening drying it… The pages are dry and hold pencil led well enough again… See?” You flipped to the first page where you’d written:

‘I’m Sorry I’m Awful

Please Don’t Hate Me.’

He took it and flipped through it, feeling the paper with his long fingers and rubbing at the occasional left over smudge. He looked back up at you with still furrowed brows. “But why? We aren’t friends… What d’you expect to get from this?”

You raised your brow and pushed your hair aside. “Still so cynical. But you’re right. I do want something – Two things actually. One, for you to forgive me. And two, to be friends. You seem pretty alright and your art was really good, from what I could tell.”

His face softened and he looked back at his journal, closing it and placing it between you both. “Friends?”

You laughed. “Yeah. What? Have too many to squeeze me in?”

He shook his head. “No, it’s just…” He gripped his knees and bit his lip. “D’you know we go to the same school?”

You blinked, taken completely aback. “We what? Really? I’ve never seen you around.” How had you not noticed him ever at school. It wasn’t that big of a school, and most students knew each other through their parents who most all worked at the mill.

He nodded, bringing his head lower and letting his hair cover his face again. “You’re too popular t’even know I exist.”

You laughed at that word. “Popular? I’m not popular.” You couldn’t believe what he was saying.

“You’re always around all those people…”

You giggled, “They’re just my friends…” It suddenly struck you that he’d been watching you before. As you were cleaning up his journal you had noticed several groups of students he’d drawn. Besides the one at whatever park, some of the settings were school settings. But it hadn’t clicked that it was your school he had drawn. “Severus?”

He looked up, his face was no longer red, but a light pink blush remained on his pale cheeks.

“Did you want to be friends with me before? At school I mean?”

He shook his head.

You frowned, confused about what he was trying to say. If he didn’t want to be friends why was he watching you? Why did it seem he had an interest in you if he wanted nothing to do with you? “Then what? I don’t get it.”

He shook his head again. “Nothin’… I forgive you. You should go before my parents catch you in ‘ere. My mam will lose it… and you wouldn’t want to see that. Things get weird when she does.”

You nodded and stood, zipping up your bag and turned to the window. You wanted to stay longer, figure out what the hell was Severus’ secret. Why was he so secretive!

You swung a leg over and felt for the step, ducking through the window and finding the step again with your other foot. You looked down to make sure everything was okay and took a step down. You turned back and froze. Severus was back to kneeling next to the window and his face just inches from yours.

“S-sorry! I thought I should be close enough to catch you if the ladder started tiltin’…” His cheeks reddened even more and spread to his neck.

You nodded and looked into the deep wells of his eyes, seeing yourself reflected in their dark depths. He got closer, letting you stare at him longer.

Another explanation popped into your head, for why he’d been the one to know you existed despite never having met him. Why he’d observed you with your friends. Why he cared about your social differences….

“Do you have a crush on me, Severus?” you smiled.

His eyes widened and his mouth fell open slightly. The blush that had been spreading down his neck turned red again, and he looked away, giving you a curtain of inky hair. He turned back with more composed features. “Of course I don’t! Why would I? I-I just met you today and… and I was just sayin’ that stuff about school because I-I noticed you once. That’s all!” His voice was deep and harsh.

You rolled your eyes at his weak attempt at intimidation. “Just admit it! Why else would you be acting so weird about being friends and caring about how ‘popular’ I am even though I’m not?” You climbed back up the ladder and pushed him aside to climb back through the window.

He stood and squeezed his hands into fists, no longer cowering. “Just because I’ve seen you ‘round doesn’t mean I ‘ave a crush on you!”

You scoffed. “Do we have any classes together?”

“No.” He crossed his arms.

“Do we have the same lunch together?”

“No.” He started tugging on his sleeve.

You smiled again. “There are over a thousand students in our crummy school and hundreds during lunches and somehow you know I’m not part of those hundreds in your lunch?” You laughed again. “Explain that.”

His face got even redder. “Well.. I-I… I-it…” He shut his mouth and clenched his jaw. “Fine. I DID. ‘appy?”

Your smile dropped. “‘Did’? When… Why did you stop?” Why did you care?

He huffed. “I told you. It’s pointless to care… about you…”

You looked down at his greying socks. You weren’t sure why his words kind of stung.

“Why d’you look like that?”

You shrugged. “I don’t know…” You bit your lip. “I think I… Liked? That you had a crush on me?”

He scoffed, “Why? S’you could feel good about yourself?”

You shrugged again, feeling tears grow in the corner of your eyes and wishing you could escape such an awkward turn of the argument.

There was a long pause.

“D-d’you like me?”

Your head shot up and your faced burned hot. His eyebrows were raised and his crossed arms were loosening the longer you took to respond. “I… might have taken an interest in… you.”

“You’re interested in me?” His face pulled up into a grin suddenly. “Is that what you’re sayin’?”

You scoffed, “I didn’t say that exactly!”

He laughed and stepped forward, still towering over you. “I felt you feel my hair! I was right! I knew it!”

Your jaw dropped and if your face wasn’t red before it was now the color of a tomato. You did remember doing that. “I… I don’t know why I did that!”

“That’s why you want me to admit I ‘ave a crush on you,” he shrugged and stepped back, looking as if he’d won.

“Aha!” You quickly put your finger up. “You DO have a crush on me!”

He placed his hands on his hips and shook his head. “I’ve already won. You ‘ave a crush on me – and you didn’t even realize it.”

What had this day turned into. Being suddenly told this morning you’d have to train someone knew at the store and now it was passed midnight and somehow you’d accidently confessed a crush you’d also gotten today? The day was as messy as the clean up for his journal that now lay forgotten on the floor.

You held your hands up in defeat. “Fine… So maybe I do… But you do too!”

He curled his finger and pressed it to his lips. “Alright… I do…”

You smiled down at your shoes and stood there awkwardly for a minute before decided to just go for it. You stepped forward and kissed his cheek, accidently touching the corner of his mouth and pulled away.

Your face burned. “Ok… Bye – !” You turned and headed out the window, quickly climbing down and let the ladder down on the ground gently.

You climbed the brick wall and looked back up at Severus.

He was touching his cheek as he smiled and waved. “S-see you t’morrow!”

You put your hand to your mouth and giggled. “See you.”

He looked smug suddenly and you rolled your eyes playfully.

You quickly jumped down and ran to your bike, hopping on and peddling back up the hill, trying to pull your giant smile back to normal.

~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~ * ~~~

Masterlist

Request: “may I request a muggle young sev x muggle reader please idk a story or headcanon really anything you want I just love the way you write young severus okie dokie thank you for reading 🥺❤” – Anon

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Welcome to General Taglist!!:

@bionic-otp​

@severuslovebot​

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[kookiebunnii]

d4u || c’s get degrees

sept. 2018. this is my first time having a class with guk. we like to make bets on things to satisfy jungkook’s competitive instinct and the reward is usually food-related. i guess this quarter will be no different. 

pairing: bestfriend!jungkook x reader

genre: slice of life 

word count: 2.4k

warnings: n/a

sept. 2018

If there was one thing Jungkook loved, it was competition. You still remember the phase where he’d respond “bet” to anything you said, even if it made no sense. 

Let’s have Chinese takeout for dinner. Bet. 

Don’t forget your keys like you did last time. Bet.

If you say “bet” one more time, I’ll throw your Widowmaker mousepad out the window. Bet.

He’d always be the one to suggest playing rock, paper, scissors for the last slice of pizza, betting that if a coin turns up heads then you would have to do the dishes tonight instead, or begging you to play some new video game with him so he could 1v1 you over a large sum of five dollars. Maybe it was the adrenaline he craved or the fact that he could rarely find something he was not skilled at. However, after all the years he’s known you, he has realized that he’s finally met his match. You always watch uninterestedly as the coin lands on tails and Jungkook howls in pain over the kitchen sink. Similarly, you grew used to noncommittedly charging him $5.00 on Venmo as he repeatedly demands a rematch because the game was bugged or his character was lagging.

Perhaps the boy was known for being good at everything, but it seemed that luck was always on your side. 

Breaking out of your reverie, you watch as Jungkook dashes across the apartment in search for something. While you spread Nutella over a piece of lightly browned toast, your eyes follow his frantic movements in amusement. Biting into your breakfast for the day, you hum happily as the chocolate-y flavor spreads across your tongue.

“What are you looking for e-boy?” you ask before taking a sip of the milk in your cup. 

“I can’t find my penny board…have you seen it?” he starts opening all the cupboards one by one, as if his skateboard would be in the kitchen shelf next to the canned spam.

“I hid it,” you casually state, hiding your grin behind a nibble of toast. 

He stops in his tracks, looking you dead in the eye before calmly replying, “And why would you do that?”

Brushing the crumbs from your fingertips onto your plate, you skip past him to respond in a chirpy tone, “Every time you used that cursed thing you’ve come back with a new cut or scrape. We’re running out of my favorite Hello Kitty band-aids, so I’ve decided you need a break from your precious board.”

He seems to be ready to retort something back in response, but with one look at his right arm he’s forced to agree that maybe he should rely on his own two legs for the next week or two. Huffing indignantly, he grabs the other piece of toast you’ve left for him on the plate and begins spreading generous amounts of the hazelnut spread while you get ready for class. 

Surprisingly, you and Jungkook have the same class this quarter on Tuesdays and Thursdays. Since the two of you were different majors, you never really discussed schedules with him and only ever really asked about his classes to know when you should expect him to be at home. However, it turns out that this class in question is notorious for being an easy pick to fulfill a GE requirement all students had to complete for graduation, so you couldn’t say it was a complete surprise that the two of you were simultaneously enrolled. 

Minutes later, you cover your mouth as you yawn at the doorway, watching Jungkook sling his backpack over his shoulder. He freezes, mumbling something that you assume is a list of all the things he needed for the day to ensure that he doesn’t forget anything. 

As he does this mental recital, you reach up and smooth out some hair sticking up at the top of his head. He’s rather tall, so you do your best to tip-toe and ensure that the gel in his hair is adequately spread over his brown locks to make him look as presentable as possible—which you admit must be tough for the poor gel product. He flicks you gently on the forehead as soon as he notices you holding in your laughter over this thought. 

“I know you’re thinking something funny about me again. Stop.” 

You give him your most innocent smile before heading out the door, slipping your earbuds in to listen to your regular “commute tunes” playlist. 

After the short bus ride, he gently bumps into your side to get your attention. You pull out your earbuds and give him a questioning look and soft shoulder bump of your own. Based on the mischievous look on his face, you knew that the premonition you had this morning about Jungkook’s competitiveness was a warning sign. 

“Since we have the same class this quarter, how about we bet on who will get the higher grade?” he grins happily, his whole body seemingly lit with excitement. 

“Are you sure, Mr. Film Studies major? This is a philosophy class,” you quip, watching as masses of students trickle around the two of you like slippery salmon in a never-ending stream.

“It’s not like you’d have an edge either Miss International Business major” he laughs, and you can hear the confident tone in his voice. Jungkook genuinely thinks he has a chance. 

How cute.

Right before you two enter through the classroom door, you pull him aside. The confident way he leans back to look at you tells you that he knew you wouldn’t be able to reject his offer. You never backed down on his challenges, and that’s why he liked you so much.

“Loser treats winner to Korean BBQ,” you state plainly, casually glancing down at your phone to check the time. Two minutes before class starts.

“Sure.”

Satisfied, you head into class and look around for two empty seats that were side-by-side. It wasn’t a habit that you were used to, since you rarely had friends in your university courses. However, with Jungkook beside you, it felt like a natural and customary reaction to scan the room for two empty seats instead of one. It was like pulling out two plates for dinner every night, stopping at a bakery when your cravings hit to buy your favorite dessert and a slice of banana bread to-go, or sending him a meme as you scroll through Reddit that you knew would make him laugh. You were unconsciously conscious of him.

The weeks passed like a summer’s breeze, so enjoyable that you’re left awestruck until it’s over. You enjoyed dodging around Jungkook’s questions whenever he struggled with the homework, watching him nap on his notebook while you took lecture notes, and distracting him with text messages when you didn’t want to pay attention in class so that he wouldn’t be able to either. It was almost like high school again, back when you used to be able to spend time with him and mess around in class with the teacher being none the wiser. Before long, finals had come around and you were feeling a little nervous to say the least. Jungkook refused to tell you what he got on the midterm, and by extension his grade in the course, thereby keeping you in the dark. Your grade wasn’t terrible, but you knew that Jungkook wasn’t a complete dummy because he always performed well when he was focused. Free Korean BBQ could do that to a man. 

“Do you want to study together?” you ask, finding him laying on the couch and playing a racing game on his phone. You watch as his round eyes focus on the screen intently, waiting for him to blink.

“Sure. I’m not helping you though.”

You laugh, bringing your face close enough that it was right above the phone in his hands. Making weird faces to distract him from his game, you reply, “As if. I’m just checking to see how behind you are in this class.”

He finishes and tosses his phone on the tabletop. Looking at you disinterestedly, he pinches one of your cheeks and gets up when you wiggle out of his grasp. It looks like he’s going to get his stuff, so you head into your own room to prepare your books for a productive study session.

One of the highlights of your university was its library. You always came here to study instead of studying at home or going to a café. Being at home was sometimes distracting, especially when you could hear Jungkook roasting his team over voice chat well into the late night. Given how much you were consuming at your new barista job, you also decided to avoid places with delicious pastries, lest you wanted more feelings of disappointment during your next weigh-in at the doctor’s. 

Finding a table with space for two, you sit down and begin pulling all of your supplies out of your backpack. Your enjoyed studying with a particular organization of notes and texts, so you had your favorite animal post-its on hand. Using them to indicate the beginning of your lecture notes, you begin going through what you’ve written with a light yellow highlighter. After doing this for a few pages, you peek at Jungkook’s work to find him doodling in the margins. 

Leaning over, you draw a cute stick figure pointing to Jungkook’s doodle in awe. To get the full effect, you include a speech bubble of the character saying “WOW!”

He smiles before giving your stick figure a gorgeous mustache and top hat. 

Surprisingly, the two of you get a lot done that day. You expected to be consistently distracted, but Jungkook kept to himself whenever he was really focused. Maybe he was always like this with studies he was interested in, but either way you quite liked how focused he was being. His wide eyes were trained on the text in front of him as he absentmindedly tapped his pen against his cheek in thought. Once in a while the pen tilts dangerously close to his mouth, and as you catch him proceeding to take an unconscious bite of the cap, you pull his hand away in alarm.

“You have a habit of putting things in your mouth. Perhaps you’re into that, but for your health let’s not,” you chastise, pulling the pen out of his grasp and tapping him on the head with it.

Grinning, he proceeds to try and bite your shoulder. You almost screech in alarm at his attack before remembering that you’re in a very public library with students already taking notice of the way you were practically falling out of your chair in horror. Clearing your throat and straightening your jacket, you give Jungkook a dirty look before turning away to focus on your textbook again. 

Finals turned out to be much easier than you anticipated, which matched up to the past experiences you’d gathered from previous students of the course. It was clear to you that you and Jungkook had over-studied, but what captured your interest with greater intensity was the final grade in the course. As you happily noted the bright 97.6% flashing back at you on the screen, you could practically taste the yummy samgyeopsal on your tongue. Guess what makes food even better? When it’s free!

You slide over to Jungkook’s room and peek inside, hoping he wasn’t in the middle of a game. Luck finds you again when you witness him exiting out of the League of Legends application on his setup and spinning around in his bright orange gamer chair to greet your new intrusion. He quickly pulls his headset off to hear you better, to which you respond by diving face-first onto his bed and rolling up in his blanket like Y/N burrito just to bother him. When he makes a sound of annoyance and begins prying the sheets off you, you know you’ve attained your goal and begin helping him unravel you.

“What do you want?” he prods you off the bed so he can redo his sheets.

“Have you seen your PHIL grade yet?” you begin pretend-boxing with his back as the punching bag. He doesn’t seem to like this very much either, because he quickly spins around and grabs onto your fists to stop you. 

“I have. Guess you’re taking me to KBBQ tonight?” he tries to tickle you out of spite, but you know he’s in a good mood. You’re rarely this playful with him, preferring to silently annoy him or treat him more like a troublesome younger brother to look out for. But what can you say? A free dinner peaks your mood.

“What’d you get then smartass?” 

He pretends to think for a bit with his hand on his chin, “You first.” 

Confidently, you stand up to him and puff your chest out in pride while jabbing his chest with each digit that comes out of your mouth. 

“97.6% baby. Anyways, there’s this new spot 15 minutes away Luce told me about, I think you should treat me there-”

“Hm, 97.7% here baby,” a smirk sliding easily across his features as he mocks your previous tone, “What was that about a new place?”

Wide-eyed, you demand to see his grade on the university’s portal page. There’s no way this slick kid managed to get a higher grade than you…especially by a tiny percentage point! He’s got to be joking, maybe betting that you wouldn’t actually fact-check his claims or something… 

Alas, as he shows you his screen while laughing in crazed triumph, you feel like breaking his obnoxious rainbow-lit keyboard as he runs around his room doing victory laps. You always thought luck would be on your side, especially when it came to studies, but perhaps you had used up all your free passes this year. 

Breezing past him, you head to your room to find a light coat for the evening and your car keys. Jungkook seems to find that following you as you complete this task is entertaining, because you have to try your absolute best not to look at him as he tries to get your attention by making his typical crackhead expressions.

“Put on one of your weeb hoodies with the anime chicks and let’s go.”

“Wind out of your sails Y/N?” 

He grabs you by the shoulders in an attempt to spin you around, but one well-aimed knee to the balls later, Jungkook seems to enjoy lying on the floor clutching his precious package more than teasing you with his antics. 

Mental note: never make a bet with Guk again. 

— — — — — — — — — — — — — — —

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[dirt-cup-draco]

Draco x Reader - Perfection

Omg I just had this cute idea, could you write a young Draco x reader, in which he doesn't bully/make fun of her and really respects her, and he doesn't know why, but then kinda realises he likes her? I think a fluff n cute ending would be nice😍😍 

A/N: I am slowly trying to get back to posting! I still need more time but I am so overjoyed with all the love and support I’ve received. Thank you all. xoxo

There was nothing about you Draco didn’t like. He watched as you took a seat at your house table, back straight and eyes lit up with a smile. You radiated a warmth and positive energy that he might have found annoying if it wasn’t perfectly you. 

“What’s so interesting about Y/L/N that you have to stare at her all meal long?” Pansy whined as Draco rolled his eyes. 

“Leave him be Parkinson, he has a crush,” Blaise prodded fun at him and Draco stuck his elbow into his friend’s side.

“I don’t, she’s just nice is all,” Draco argued.

“Since when has that mattered? She’s just some nobody,” Draco was tuning Pansy out before she continued and made him angry for the rest of the day. 

Once Draco was stuck in transfiguration, he made sure to steal the seat right behind you. He could smell your perfume, something light and floral that was quickly becoming his favorite. You were taking notes when Draco reached forward, tapping you on the shoulder. 

You turned and he tossed a note onto your desk with a smile that you returned. Your smile had always been so pretty, maybe Blaise was right. But so what if he had a crush on you? Draco was positive half the school would be in love with you if they weren’t blind.

Draco and you had been friends for a while, passing notes in transfiguration just to pass the time because you knew if you talked out of line McGonagall would scold you openly in front of the class. It was always simple conversation yet it made your heart race. 

How are you today? Draco’s simple handwriting asked, beside a silly doodle of an owl that flapped it’s wings at you in a hello. 

You always loved his doodles. 

Draco wasn’t the kindest of boys, he had a reputation and you knew it was very possible one day he would decide to be not so kind to you. You didn’t tolerate bullies but Draco always had wide, honest doe eyes for you. It drew you in and you were powerless against how he made you feel. To you, he was the most perfect boy in the world. 

Good, besides dreading Potions. Help me study later? You asked back, waiting for your professor to turn around so you could turn and place the note on Draco’s desk, you winked at him as you spun back around, missing the blush that burned it’s way across his cheeks and to the tips of his ears. 

Draco had a snarky, playful comment in the back of his head but he worried you might not take it as that so he withheld. He didn’t want to mess up when it came to you, being the only person who could ever make him think before he spoke. He agreed to help you in potions and the rest of the class flew by with stories of how you had accidentally sent your homework to your family instead of the letter you had prepared for them and how he had accidentally walked into the girl’s bathroom the other day. 

It was nice to share the silly things about your day, it kept humor between you two and something to talk about later when you were together. It was always good for the both of you and so when you came to the library after dinner with tears in your eyes, he was at a loss for what to do. 

You rubbed at your eyes and sniffled, trying to pull yourself together. “Sorry, I was g-going to clean up but I didn’t want you thinking I was late,” You mumbled as fresh tears started to well up. Draco didn’t understand what he was doing until he was wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you comfortingly. 

“What happened? Who do I have to kill?” He tried playing it off as a joke but seeing you in such a state boiled his blood and made his heart ache for you. 

You let out a watery chuckle. “It’s nothing, Draco.” You reassured but he wasn’t convinced. He pulled away just enough to tilt your chin up at him as he narrowed his eyes, searching yours for the truth. You seemed ashamed almost.

“It’s something if it made you cry,” He said softly, wiping your tears away and continuing to stroke the soft skin of your cheek in a soothing rhythm. 

“Just some silly girl was rude, I just need a thicker skin,” 

“What girl?” Draco asked and you avoided his gaze. 

“No one you know,” You failed to meet his eye, your foot scraping against the floor beneath you as your nervous energy showed itself. 

“Liar,” He said gently. “Y/N, I won’t kill anyone, just let me know what happened. I want to help...” 

“But you don’t need to help,” You softly argued back. “I can take care of myself-” 

“What if I want to take care of you?” He interrupted. 

You smiled at that, finally making the eye contact he had been looking for. “And why would Draco Malfoy want to take care of little ol’ me?” You teased as Draco blushed, rolling his eyes so hard they might pop out of his head if he wasn’t careful. 

“Don’t pretend you don’t know how amazing you are,” He scoffed. 

It was your turn to let out a hoot of laughter. “You are a terrible flirt, do you know that?”

Draco pulled away from you, embarrassed. “I am not! I was honest, you are, in the best words I can put it in, perfect.” 

You watched Draco in a curious way but let your smile grow wider as you reached for his hand. “Is that why Pansy was giving me hell? Because you like me?” 

Draco frowned. “Pansy was bothering you?” 

“Answer the question,” You prodded. 

“You first,” 

“Draco,” You begged. 

“I do like you,” He admitted, tugging on your hand so he could settle his hands on your hips. “What are you going to do about it?” 

You giggled, lacing your fingers together behind his neck. Standing on your toes you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Nothing yet,” You teased. “We have potions to do,” 

Draco groaned, hands squeezing your hips as he found the way you fit against him was the most blissful thing he’d ever experienced. Merlin, how was he to survive you?

“I like you too, you know,” You declared as you settled at the table, pulling out your scrolls and books as Draco snapped himself out of his reverie. 

Draco was grinning as he sat beside you, hand grasping yours as you went over your homework. The small action had you smiling in a way he had never seen before and it was so different from the tears you arrived with that he couldn’t help but feel some pride. He had made you happy. 

Draco very possibly hex Pansy but for now he was content to sit beside you and practice what ingredients did and didn’t belong in a wideye potion. 

“Why are you looking at me like that?” You asked with laughter in your voice as you realized he hadn’t answered your question yet.

This time Draco wasn’t worried about his answer.  “Because you’re perfect,” 

You blushed, and laughed off the intensity of his voice. Merlin, how were you supposed to survive him? 

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: It’s finally my birthday month and I am, once again, filling up the Konoha agenda. Today I offer you Konoha propaganda... Tomorrow? Konoha propaganda.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 2 - poco a poco.

word count: 8618

warnings: MC’s brothers have a heavy... sister-complex; overworking

(n.) little by little

‘Help’ wasn’t an unfamiliar word for you. Helping other people with their homework (to none of their avails), helping your bandmates with lifting the appliances, etcetera, etcetera. Do as much as you can, was what your parents told you as a child, and that was what you did, regardless of who asked.

Therefore, it certainly piqued your interest that Suzuki Ume, captain of the school’s marching band, and the two managers of the Boys’ Volleyball Club had crept their way into the Light Music Club room to ask you for a favor.

“Ooh, a cheering song’s certainly a new genre,” you piped up. “I used to try and convince my club members to switch to another style, but they’re too quick to reject me, y’know? PARANOIA as an idol group wouldn’t be so bad~”

The thought of the ever-stoic Mizushima Reo wearing a frilly idol costume had the Marching Band Club captain stifling a snort. “It would definitely be a sight...”

“I think we can all agree that when it comes to composing music and lyrics, you’re our first choice,” Kaori piped up. “If we can get the message across, then it would be a solid form of motivation for the team—or Bokuto at least, especially with the qualifying tournaments coming up.”

“Plus, Konoha would love it if you made a song for him, no?” Yukie followed, her languid gaze trailing up to your smiling face.

You’d nearly forgotten that Akinori belonged with the Volleyball Club. You were third-years now, both in the last moments of your high school youth. The teachers had started counselling for future prospects, your classmates had started worrying whether or not their current marks would bring them far in life, and as a whole, the third-years have begun to panic. You didn’t mind though—as long as you had your rock-hard conviction and your pragmatic boyfriend, you felt like you could do anything you wanted.

“Ah, I almost forgot that you and Konoha-kun were an item,” Ume said, her eyes twinkling. “So, how’s it? Have you two kissed yet?”

Faking a pout, you crossed your arms in mock offense, “Very scandalous, Umecchi. My virgin lips aren’t ready to be taken away yet, you know...”

“Kidding, kidding~ so, Y/N-san, would you like to do the honors of composing the Fukurodani Volleyball Club anthem for us?”

“No thank you!” you chirped, smiling earnestly.

The faces of your three guests fell.

Seeing their distressed expressions, you laughed, “I was just messing with you~ You guys are too serious. Sure, I’ll make the song. It’ll be fun, right?”

Kaori cleared her throat, reaching into her pocket to hand you a scrap of folded paper. “R-right... Anyway, here’s some ideas we collected to get you started. I’ve also written our numbers at the bottom, if you have any questions.”

“Though something tells me you already have them,” the droopy-eyed manager grinned.

Chuckling, your eyes flitted through the daintily-written notes and doodles scrawled all over the paper, “Yep. These notes are good. I’ll report back to you when I finish my final draft.”

“That’ll be great,” Ume sighed in relief. “But don’t work yourself restless, alright? Mizushima-san told me you’re those types of people who don’t stop until they get it done. We’re all third-years now, so we’ll be happy to lend a hand.”

“Of course,” was the answer you said to them, because it was the right answer. The moral answer. Instead of the more worrying: It’s fine, I might pass out from working too hard, but at least I’ll finish the job.

As the three “left the song in your care”, you escorted them back to the third-year hallways while replaying their entire conversation with you in your head. Oh, they were certainly a curious trio, walking into the lion’s den naked. But from all the curious things they’ve told you, one resounded loudly in your memory.

“Have you two kissed yet?”

Somberly laughing to yourself, you thought that, ah, that might be trouble.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori’s ears were threatening to fall off their places from the two-hour long lecture about the Tokugawa shogunate. Whose grand idea was it anyway to put Japanese History as last period? He was ready to melt into a weary puddle right on the school’s entrance, but you, on the other hand, seemed even more chipper than usual.

“Geez, what’s up with all the extra energy? You’re like Bokuto...” he groaned. “Didn’t you have Modern Literature as your last subject?”

“Yep, but I’m not allowed to get tired now!” you laughed, exuberantly slapping his back to get him out of his slump. “We’ve got no club activities today, right? Let’s go to that new cafe in Shinjuku, just to get your energy back~”

“Mm... parfait would be nice. But why are you so particularly tireless now?”

“Ooh, I’ve got a new job to do,” you said while grinning impishly. “The marching band and the Volleyball Club asked me this morning.”

Smiling sympathetically, Akinori ruffled your hair. A force of habit. “Bokuto didn’t ask you to do anything weird, right?”

You shook your head, as you paused to stop in the middle of the courtyard to look at him properly. “Your managers asked me. Yuki-chan and Kaorin. They want me to make a cheering song for you for the qualifying tournaments.”

“Whoa, seriously?” he exclaimed, exhaustion replaced with that of wonder. “That’s really cool, Y/N-chan! I can’t wait to see what you’re going to write.”

The blonde’s hand fell from the crown of your head to the slope of your shoulder, the comfort from his palm spreading into your chest. Under the light of the afternoon sun, Akinori seemed much warmer in person. You wondered if you could do that thing Ume was pestering you about earlier. Leaning towards him, a million thoughts whizzed in your head, but you paid them no attention, because as soon as your eyes fluttered close—

HONK! HONK!

“Y/N-chaaaan!”

Lips falling flat, your features darkened. “No way... No way. No way. What the hell is he doing here?”

“Y/N-chan! It’s meee! I’ve come to pick you up~” the man waving by the taxi persistently yelled from you at the gates of the school, attracting the whispers and giggles of passing students.

Concern scrawled all over his face, your boyfriend turned to you, “Y/N-chan... W-who is that?”

“It’s that crazy person again...”

“Crazy person?!”

Grabbing his hand, you tried to ignore the shameless calls from the grown taxi driver who was simply too relentless. “Never mind that. Aki-chan, you can run, right? Let’s run right now. Don’t turn back, okay?”

And without warning, you dragged your boyfriend around a sharp corner, your legs pedaling as much as your glutes could handle. Akinori wished you’d stop and explain everything to him, but if you seemed to be so desperate as to avoid this certain taxi driver, then you probably had a good reason for it.

As much as he’d hoped he didn’t, curiosity overtook the boy and he did the one simple thing, you’d pleaded him not to do. Akinori turned back, and was met with a pair of sinister eyes that swam with murderous intent.

“Y/N-chan, he’s chasing us! Why is he chasing us?! And why is he so fast?!” he cried, the impending fear of the incoming taxi driver feeding adrenaline into his legs.

“This guy was a yankii* in high school. An A-grade delinquent. If he’s fast, then we just have to run faster!”

Did things always have to go so unexpectedly with you? Why couldn’t the two of you just sit down and make plans for the day, like a normal couple? Akinori figured you were lacking of “normal”, but to be chased by a former delinquent through a sidewalk was straight up terrifying—he didn’t even get to decide on what sort of will he was going to write!

“Y/N-chaaan! It’s me, Wataru-nii-chan!” your pursuer wailed from behind you. “Don’t you recognize me?! Is it the mullet?”

Wataru-nii-chan?! Konoha repeated in his mind.

Growling, you roared back at the man. “Go home, Aniki*! I can go back on my own, so stop chasing us before someone calls the police!”

Oh god, Akinori definitely didn’t expect his first encounter with one of your three older brothers to be like this. So much for a good first impression... But it was moderately your fault that you tended to avoid the subject whenever it was brought up. The only thing he’d ever recalled from your descriptions of them was that “they’re all annoying” and that they had all moved out from Tokyo to live elsewhere.

“Not until you let me drive you home!” your brother stubbornly shot back.

You were getting tired now. Running around in circles through the school district. If this race was a way to prove that you had graduated from the mere role of the “baby sister”, then so be it.

Though if it had been any other brother of yours chasing you down the streets, you would’ve been luckier. But this was Wataru for god’s sake. The second child. The idiot whose impulse transcended logic in every way possible—and the worst person to challenge to a foot race.

“Fine!” you groaned, nearly stumbling over your feet as your boyfriend pulled you from your fatigue. Hands slipping on the curve of your knees, you glared at your brother from the low angle. “I’ll go home with you this once. Then you’ll stop coming to my school.”

Ruffling your hair, he grinned, “I knew you’ll come through for your big bro.”

“...Whatever, let’s just go,” you muttered, shying away from the older man’s touch. Looking back at your visibly concerned yet confused boyfriend, you gave him a shrug and weakly waved goodbye as you trailed behind Wataru to his taxi.

Damn, that was way too scary, Akinori breathed. His stomach rumbling, he wondered if he still should stop by that cafe you’d talked about earlier. Probably not.

Resting your chin on the sill of the taxi window, you sighed loudly, enough to catch the attention of your brother on the rearview mirror. Wataru smiled brightly, driving you away from the landscape of Fukurodani Academy.

“Was that your boyfriend with you? That ‘Aki-chan’ Mom and Dad keeps talking about?”

“Bingo,” you retorted plainly, hoping that he’d stop trying to make small talk.

“By the way, I heard there’s a new cafe that just opened up in Shinjuku,” Wataru said, the mention somewhat a déjà vu. “You want to stop by and grab some parfaits?”

Frowning at your own reflection on the glass, you grumbled, “It’s fine. I’m not hungry.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

What the hell is this, you cursed.

Like they just coincidentally planned to ruin your day, all three of your older brothers—who had mentioned to you that they were going to spend their break at their workplaces—were sitting jovially at your family dining table, as if none of this was a shock.

“Isn’t it a lovely surprise, Y/N?” your mother beamed, scooping a larger spoonful of rice onto your oldest brother’s bowl. “They didn’t even tell us they were coming to visit!”

Of course not, you scowled. If there was one thing you and your brothers had in common was that it was the annoying habit of doing things unexpectedly and expecting the second party to live with it. You wondered if this was what Akinori had felt the day you approached him.

“Y/N-chan’s gotten so big. I wonder if she can still fit on my lap like she used to,” Kensuke, the oldest, cooed, gazing at you with glassy eyes. “You want to sit on Ken-nii-chan’s lap, Y/N-chan? I’ll feed you too if you’d like~”

“No thank you,” you growled through gritted teeth and broccoli.

The third brother Masao chuckled while ruffling your hair endearingly, “Now, now, Y/N-chan. Of course Kensuke’s going to point out that you’ve grown bigger, he’s a pediatrician after all. If you don’t want to be fed by him, how about Masa-nii-chan, eh?”

Pushing your quarter-empty meal to the center of the table, you turned your face away from the college senior’s nostalgic “beef stew airplane”. “I think I’ve lost my appetite.”

“You usually eat things up like it’s nothing. Are you ill? A rebellious phase?” Kensuke muttered, leaning back on his chair to closely observe your darkening mood. “No, it’s something more... Could it be—is it your boyfriend?”

“Or that band of yours, maybe? I can’t believe you’re still in it, you know you can’t get very far with music, right?” Masao sneered, gulping down his glass of water. “All of your friends remind me a lot of Wataru when he was still a high school hooligan.”

Showing no signs of appreciation for the comment, your second brother winked at you from across the table. “Speaking of your boyfriend, I met him today when I picked you up, didn’t I?”

The mention of your ‘infamous’ boyfriend turned the heads of the entire dinner table—you weren’t so sure why your parents looked so surprised as well, you supposed it was just genetics.

“Really? What was he like? I can definitely tell he’s one of those skinny ones.”

“You bet. I was more curious about his hair though...”

“Is it dyed or is it a natural shade?”

“It was too dark to tell, maybe when I encounter him again, I’ll take a small snip of his hair to show everyone~”

Kensuke, who in your memory didn’t fare well with news of any boy approaching a 1-metre radius of you, darkly smiled behind the shade of his spectacles. He hadn’t said anything in response to Wataru’s report, and that itself terrified you to bits.

“Ooh, you’re still with him, Y/N-chan?” at his sappy call of your name, your stomach tightened. The table fell silent at the mercy of the oldest child. “That’s new. You usually get bored of something or someone after a few months or so... Are you sure it’s not much of a burden for you? You’re a third-year too, after all... You shouldn’t take relationships for granted~”

If Wataru was a knuckleheaded ogre and Masao was a devious fox, then Kensuke was definitely the demon to rule them all. It was in their nature, whether they realized it or not; they always made you seem pathetic so that they could take the chance to dote and care for you like they wished for.

“Dinner was delicious,” you blurted out, standing up from your chair abruptly that the tableware shook and clattered. “I’m going to my room.”

Watching you slam the bedroom door, Kensuke shouted after you, “Ehh... You’re not going to tell us about you and your boyfriend? We’re curious!”

You let your brothers’ voices fade out into white noise as you collapsed face-down onto your bed. You hoped that this visit wasn’t going to last long, otherwise, you’d be pulling out every hair from your head until you went bald.

Unfolding the scrap of notes your three patrons had previously collected for you, a weak smile cracked through your face. Don’t mind them, Y/N-chan, you thought as you got up to place your beloved guitar on your lap. Let’s get to work.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Akinori swore your face was so sour, he tasted lemons in his mouth.

You looked like you didn’t sleep for days. You, who had always brimmed with energy, were quietly cursing your brothers as you ate lunch. Added to your rather beautiful profile, you looked like an phantom waiting to pounce on an unsuspecting victim.

“So, how was your consultation with Yamanouchi-sensei about your future plans?” he cleared his throat, hoping that he could slowly pick away the frosty wall between you.

You only frowned deeper—so deep that your eyebrows were almost parallel. “Future plans... Do I have to decide everything now? My life is only this wonderful because I don’t plan anything. I could be busking in the streets with Reo, Iori-kun and MugiMugi ten years from now and I’d be perfectly fine.”

Akinori laughed. That ‘plan’ definitely smelled very strongly of you.

“What about you?” you nudged his elbow with the side of your chopsticks. “What do you want to be doing in the future, Aki-chan?”

“Hmm... I’ll definitely go to college—otherwise my mom’s brains will leak out of her ears if I don’t. After that, I’m considering setting up a business on my own, maybe in Meguro where it’s a bit cheaper than Ginza or Roppongi. It’d be nice to be your own boss, don’t you think?”

You smiled weakly and nodded. How annoying. Just as you were liberated from your isolation just a year ago, you felt like you were already seeping back into loneliness once more. Everyone had a plan after high school.

Akinori was going to be an ambitious conglomerate with the number one business in Meguro. Gorilla-faced gentle Reo was finally going to set up that ramen shop he’d been dreaming of. Iori, a rebel to mankind and jaywalking laws, was going to “hell with everything” and enter a prestigious art school. And young Tsumugi... well, whatever a sales operator was, you wished him all the best as a good senpai would do.

And thus, you were stuck again. As the prodigy L/N Y/N who could do everything... but could never decide on anything.

“It’s my brothers’ fault I was so sleepy when I filled in that form. They were disturbing my peace of mind and so I got scolded by Yamanouchi-sensei for it,” you reasoned.

“Is that why you look so tired?”

“No, that’s not it,” you sighed, replacing the lid on your emptied bento. “I spent all night finishing up most of the cheering song’s melody.”

Akinori nearly choked on his strawberry milk. “That much already?! Y/N-chan, the tournament isn’t until a week away! Geez, think about yourself more, won’t you? What would you do if you fell sick and collapsed?”

Getting up to pat away the dust resting on your skirt, you gave your boyfriend a cheeky smile. “Then you’ll just have to take care of me until I get better.”

“Ah... You’ll only ask me to do weird stuff. Why can’t your brother do it? Isn’t he a doctor?”

You curtly gave him an unappreciative pout, masking your obvious mirth. “C’mon~ I’m your girlfriend. You’re going to need a punishment for saying that, Aki-chan. Come now, don’t cover up your sides, I’m going to have to tickle you good—!”

Though you were laughing, you were a mess. More than usual, Akinori thought. It was disturbing enough that his first impression of your older siblings was nightmarish at best, but he wondered if your coping methods could’ve been more... amiable. What would he do if you really fell sick and collapsed? Would your brothers even let him visit especially with their overbearing sense of vigilance?

From your little grumbling, it really did seem like they didn’t like him. Or, really, the concept of him. As much as Akinori appreciated your solace, it would be troublesome if they’d thought he was trying to influence you to despising your family. Some sort of soap opera this is.

At least you were smiling now. He thought. And that was all that mattered in that moment, because he knew things were about to go awry one way or another.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Y/N-san... I think my ears just ascended to second heaven.”

In the expanse of the Marching Band Club room, Suzuki Ume had her hands clasped together, a content expression resting idly on her face. And it really did look like she’d died happy.

“Right~?” you grinned, setting down Lennon-chan next to the blackboard. “The melody really gets you pumped up, doesn’t it? Especially when it’ll be played by all the trumpets and percussions... I think even I’ll start feeling the adrenaline.”

Brandishing the handwritten sheet music in her hands, Ume smiled at you endearingly. “This song is perfect, Y/N-san. And I’m sure your lyrics will only make it better. If I may propose...”

Repeating the word she’d trailed off, you felt an even bigger smile cracking through the slits of your pearly teeth.

“It would be great if you were there to lead the song for us. That is, only if you agree! I’ve already discussed it with the PTA and the principal and they’re all on board with the idea.”

The room grew still, and the captain spoke again.

“I’m sure Konoha-kun will be excited if you were there cheering for him on... maybe you’ll finally get one of those romantic after-game kisses with him~”

Ume never recalled a moment where you ever blushed. But to see Fukurodani’s infamous “alien” genius so flustered—red from head to toe—was a victory no one could ever seldom. Who could blame you? When thoughts of your untouched lips being swept away by your guileful boyfriend in an enclosed space, so close yet so far from prying eyes were buzzing in your head... Geez, now you really wanted a kiss.

“I’ll lead the song for you—b-but not because I want my boyfriend to do... that!” you quickly reasoned, the red on your face turning darker. “Aki-chan gets all sweaty after a game and being kissed in that condition is gross! Public displays of affection are also pervy, aren’t they? R-right?”

Hoho, Ume giggled. So the Iron Maiden is this type of tsundere~

“Umecchi. That amused look on your face, please erase it.”

It took Suzuki Ume her entire fist in her mouth to pacify her approaching laughter. But eventually, she’d jovially apologized for teasing you, alleviating the pout resting on your face. Reviewing her ideas for the lyrics once more, you drew the conclusion that a) you were still going to have to examine the Volleyball Club first-hand for inspiration and b) writing lyrics for a cheering song was going to be harder than you’d expected. You, who had been used to your own hostile verses in PARANOIA’s songs, were going to have to be forced to avoid the usual... “dirty scums” business.

You were beginning to regret taking the offer, but quickly waved away the thought, thinking that you were starting to sound like your boyfriend. Exiting the Marching Band club room, you pondered on a proper time to visit the Volleyball Club for research. They had today off. Tomorrow, maybe? No, Akinori would complain that you were working too hard—

“Ow!” you yelped, rubbing your forehead from the sudden impact from the wall—Wait, you squinted. There was never a wall here.

And when a pair of arms wrapped around you as a constrictor so eager to devour, all answers were revealed. “Y/N-chaaan! It’s so nice to see you! Aaah, Masa-nii-chan was starting to wonder where you were, you know? Kyuu~”

Scuffling against the third brother’s vice-like embrace, you hissed. “Aniki, let go! You’ll damage my guitar! What are you doing here?! Who in hell would let you in?”

Gently setting you down, Masao watched you with a reprimanding look on his face, amusement dancing in his eyes.

“How cruel of you to say, Y/N-chan. I’m only here to check on my alma mater...” he sulked, focus zeroing in on the piece of paper in your hand. “What’s that? Can I see?”

Before you could express your dissent, Masao had already lunged behind you, snatching the paper into his hands. Reaching for the large wall with your dwarfen arms, you let out a shrill wheeze as his eyes started to skim over the paper and his expression dropped to a million feet.

“Give it back, Aniki!”

“You’re still doing this music thing? Geez, did you even listen to what I said during that one dinner?” he scoffed, turning his back to you to further deride your struggle. “‘You won’t get very far with music’. I bet these scrubs aren’t even paying you.”

Taking up all the strength in your legs, you craned against Masao as much as possible and retrieved the sheet with a disapproving crackle. “I’m not capitalistic like you. And yes, I am still doing this ‘music thing’, but no matter how far I’ll go...”

You paused, drinking in the grave look on your brother’s face.

“I’ll always have people to support me, Aniki.”

At the spur of the moment, like your ancestors were trying to curse you for speaking of the devil, a familiar call of your name had the both of you turning your heads. A mop of blonde and a pair of simple dark eyes that did not match the scene that was playing out before him.

What was Akinori doing here? Why would he call for you seeing that this obnoxious adult was here?! Run away, you begged with your gaze, but the fear that rooted your boyfriend was unrelentingly profuse. No! Don’t succumb!

“Ah! Y/N-chan’s brother!” he bowed, an angle so sharp he almost snapped a muscle. “It’s nice to finally meet you... S-sir.”

“Sir?” Masao drawled, the question pumping acid into the atmosphere. “I’m not even that old yet.”

Despite being younger than the first brother he’d encountered, there was no doubt that this one was more terrifying than the last. At least to your boyfriend he was. Masao, more attractive-looking than Wataru, had a carbon copy of your steely gaze. “He’s a fox! A wily fox who’ll get you to assume things without meaning to!” you’d told him a few days prior, annoyance burning in your tone.

As Masao opened his mouth to speak again, Akinori could only gulp. “You’re much taller than I expected. You’re a regular in the volleyball club, right, Aki-chan?”

“R-right,” he responded. God, now he knew why his term of endearment only sounded right when it came from you.

Circling your boyfriend like a famished vulture, Masao studied him from the tips of his hair to the toes of his shoes.  “So stiff~ I would’ve mistaken you for my little sister’s guitar if you weren’t so...” he smiled warmly at the boy, then hissed.

“... Alive.”

Akinori suddenly realized what you meant by him being such a “fox demon”—he supposed you were just trying to remind him of a folk tale that time, you said yourself that whatever you said shouldn’t be taken too much to the heart. Gulping at the imposing brute of the man, your boyfriend made a mental note to listen closely to your fanciful ramblings the next time he wanted to stay “alive”. For good riddance.

Laughing raucously at his expression, Masao slapped his shoulders, worthy of the ossan* at the nearby ramen shop. “I was just messing with you! Geez, you don’t have to take me so seriously~ You’re just like Y/N-chan but less cuter! Damn, exactly the type of guy Kensuke-nii would love and hate at the same time! Hey, tell me, have you two kissed yet? I can tell that my little Y/N-chan would enjoy that kind of stuff. She is the hopeless romantic after all~”

“K-kiss?!”

At the mention of the accursed ‘activity’, you decided that it was time to finally interfere. Fitting yourself in between your paralysed boyfriend and your brother, you spread out your arms in a sign of mock annoyance. Eyes blazing as bright as your face, you begged Masao one last time.

“That’s enough getting to know each other, right, Aniki?” you said, urging him away from the stricken third year. “If you’re really here to look around the school, then you should hurry and go already. I’ll take you to the staircase, come on.”

Casually lounging an arm over your shoulders, your brother bent down towards your ear, “He’s not so bad. I like him.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you’re saying that just to win me over—”

“Geez, would you stop getting all wary with me? I’m not.” Masao muttered. The mischievous glint in his eyes disappeared just as gravity replaced it. “Your Aki-chan seems like a good kid. Not my type, just so you know. But if you care about him that much as to protect the guy from both me and Wataru, then he’s really something, huh? I’m still not in favor of your entire music future ordeal, but if that Konoha guy is your ‘support’, then I’ll rest easy knowing he’s got your back.”

There was another one of those uncomfortable pauses you hated again. Your brothers never lied; it was one of those characteristics that made your family prone to bluntness over everything else. Nevertheless, there was a sense of lightness in your chest after hearing your brother’s approval. You supposed that even if Masao was the slyest sibling known to man, he was indefinitely more tolerable than... Creepy Siscon Kensuke or Stubborn Belittling Wataru.

“Are you going to tell Kensuke and Wataru about this?”

Eyeing your concern, Masao tilted his head. “I won’t. Promise.”

“Thanks,” you smiled, nodding at your brother from atop the staircase, “... Masa-nii-chan.”

The face Masao was enough for you to scrunch up in disgust and regret whatever you just said. “H-Haa... Y-you finally called me Masa-nii-chan again... I’m so happy. So, so happy. W-will you give me a hug, Y/N-chan?”

“No way. Calling you that again was embarrassing enough, Aniki.”

“Not Aniki! Call me Masa-nii-chan! Once more!”

Shaking your head petulantly, you laughed at your brother’s woes leaving him to continue with a tour of his alma mater (unaccompanied by the hug he so desired). You returned to your lingering boyfriend with ease in your heart and found him just as stricken as you had left him.

“He’s gone now, you don’t have to look so tense,” you poked at his rigid expression.

“Your other brother he mentioned...” Akinori bit his lip. “Would he really hate me?”

You let out a breath.

“I can’t say he won’t, but Masao also said he’d love you, right? Don’t worry about it,” you grinned, looping your arm around his to drag him through the third year hallways. “When he’s being serious, you can trust that guy with his words.”

“Even the ones about how you’d enjoy being kissed?”

The spring freezing in your step, you stared at your boyfriend incredulously. Dawning on Akinori’s face was a look of absolute triumph and illuminated by the shadows of the midday sun, it was like you were at an impasse. It was near unheard of, that this was the same boy who’d you manhandled last year to get his feelings straight! And now, he was using that subliminal charm of his—the one you’d developed—in addition to that godforsaken attractive smirk to ensnare you.

What’s up with that, you thought. A mix of sheer arousal, fear and pride pooling in your hammering heart. I created a monster.

“... Except for those words,” you gritted, trying to keep your footing steady with the way Akinori was leaning closer to your body.

He chuckled lowly. “Eeh, we haven’t even kissed yet. Do you actually have experience in this sort of thing?”

You turned to the large windows lining the walls, hoping that you’d play off your deepening blush. “Of course not. And don’t say it like you have any either! If I’d dated someone who’s already had their first kiss... that would be weird on my side.”

Ruffling your hair while laughing heartily, Akinori let his eyes trail towards the outline of your face. You were beautiful, that was obvious. But in a private moment just like this, just you and him, you always seemed like you were glowing. Your curious eyes—overflowing with mischief and mysteries that he swore to uncover with time. Your cheeks, warm against his fingers and always dusted with a faint red whenever he was around. And your lips. Untouched, unkissed. A plump pair he’d only dreamed of wrapping his own around.

Tracing the pads of his fingers on the contours of your lips, charting etches of himself upon it, Akinori wondered what it would feel like. To kiss you. Would you truly enjoy it, like your brother had said?

“Aki-chan...?” your voice. So delicate and seductive; his name came out of your mouth like amber honey dripping on his hand. It was funny, to be so in love with you. Even after moments where he’d regretted he hadn’t.

It didn’t occur to him how his face was already gravitating towards you. Maybe you weren’t just an alien, maybe L/N Y/N was an entire extraterrestrial planet with a pulling force of its own.

And Konoha Akinori would be the first man to set foot on it.

“W-Whoa! Sorry ‘bout that! Am I interrupting something private, Taichou*?”

Setting foot, Akinori thought of registering himself into a mental ward for thinking of such an uncharacteristic analogy. Watching you wave giddily at the prowler who just happened to be your bandmate Iori, he sighed. I just got hit by an entire meteoroid.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

You considered buying yourself a good-luck charm from the nearby shrine. The feeling of being overwhelmed... was something you could never get used to. It was rare for you to feel so swamped, taking into account how you prided yourself over being able to get things done at lightning speed. But the song, college entrance exams, your brothers, your band and... that interrupted chance of a kiss. Everything simply took its chance to slip itself into your head all at once.

And it didn’t help at all that Kensuke had found out about your lazily answered Future Plans form that you had stupidly left lying around on your bedroom desk... under that? The lyrics to the cheering song.

“If you’re going to take your future so lightly, then you’re better off not going to that volleyball match,” he’d said to you coolly, a reflection of your seething face bouncing off his glasses. “Is this why you’ve been up all night on your guitar?”

“It was my choice,” you’d told him repeatedly.

“What uncharacteristic choices!” Kensuke had gasped mockingly, crossing his arms. “I’m simply worried about my cute little sister. What if those choices lead you to your doom? Your future, your band... that boyfriend of yours.”

He had paused to ruffle your hair, in which you’d barely managed to duck away from.

“Why don’t you just give all that up and let your big brothers take care of you, okay, Y/N-chan?”

Of course, you had only scoffed in reply and pretended like you didn’t hear him, but you weren’t going to show Kensuke that his words were actually bothering you, were you?

At the current hour, your brothers didn’t matter. As long as you finished the lyrics, everything would be fine. It’ll be fine, you said to yourself. Your long week of juggling through school, visiting the gym for lyrical inspiration, appointments with teachers, your club, clients and boyfriend, all while avoiding your brothers’ nosy interventions had begun. And there was no more back-pedaling on anything.

On the bright side, the marching band was progressing amicably with practicing the melody with you. You decided that Ume, still inquisitive about the passage of your relationship, wasn’t their captain for nothing. Hence, it would only be fair that you also gave your all during your practices—whether or not you finally felt weary in any parts of your body didn’t matter.

And ultimately, the utmost crescendo of the entire week had finally dawned you. You finished. You finished the lyrics! The song! Just about 3 days before the tournament and you had excitedly jotted down the final lines of the cheer. It was flawless in your mind and you comically considered switching over PARANOIA’s theme into something more flamboyant.

Just as a storm had come, the gods had blessed you with a stroke of good fortune. Your week had finally turned around for the better. The rehearsals, the feeling of a pick between your fingers, the swelling intimacy between you and Akinori. Your future even seemed clearer in your head. The tournament was only two days away and you felt like steel. Nothing could stop you. Nothing—

“39 degrees.”

“H-huh...?”

“You’re sick, Y/N-chan,” Kensuke sighed taking a seat on the stool next to your bed, the thermometer between his fingers flashing the two digits you never once fathomed to unite. “Mom and Dad have called your school and told them you won’t be attending class today.”

Nothing, but a 39-degree fever that made your legs buckle every step you took.

“I can’t be sick!” you suddenly cried out, only to be thrown aback by your own string of coughs. You rasped again, your legs weakly reaching out to the floor, looking for your slippers. “T-The tournament is tomorrow and I have to be there to lead the supporters—!”

As your toes kissed the surface of the hardwood, your knees caved away, crumpling and collapsing you forwards into the anticipating embrace of your three brothers. Cringing, you couldn’t help but to melt away into their warmth. You were cold. So, so cold. And all you wanted to do was wither away.

“Oi, oi! Think about your health first,” Wataru scolded, easing you back down against your plush pillows. “39 degrees won’t just go away like that, y’know? Worst-case scenario is that you won’t feel better until Sunday.”

Bundling your blankets over your shivering form, Masao nodded. “Wataru’s right. We’re sorry, Y/N-chan, but I don’t think you can go to the tourney tomorrow with your current condition.”

With a gentle stroke of his fingers on your sweat-slicked hair, Kensuke was already putting you into a trance that made your eyelids go heavy. “It’s cold, isn’t it? You poor, poor thing... It’ll be alright, Y/N-chan. Doctor Ken-nii-chan is going to take proper care of you~”

And those were the least reassuring words you’d ever heard in your life before you yielded to slumber.

“Y-Y/N-chan, are you alright?!” your boyfriend’s voice blared through your phone. It was already evening, and you didn’t catch how many hours you’d been out like a light until you stirred awake to the ringing of your cell phone. “I didn’t see you all day so I asked Tsuyoshi-san and he said you were down with a fever! Should I visit and bring you some food? W-what do you want? Some miso soup or chicken stock?”

“No, it’s fine,” you wheezed out softly. “You don’t have to come.”

“W-why not?” Akinori murmured, the torment in his voice seeping through your speakers. “You said yourself that if you ever collapsed and fell sick, I’ll be there to take care of you, right? I want to take care of you now, even if you make me do weird things. So, please—”

“Akinori.” You sternly hissed. What were you going to tell him? That he couldn’t come because your iron-willed brother slash doctor was guarding your door like a dog? You didn’t even want to know what Kensuke would do to your boyfriend if he came over. “Don’t. Come. I don’t want you to catch my fever. The match is tomorrow, right?”

“Yes, but—”

“If you love me, don’t visit. Thanks for the concern,” you said flatly and quickly hung up before he could say anything else to pull at your heartstrings. God, you really felt like a loser. Maybe your brothers weren’t so wrong about the ‘weak little sister’ business...

A knock on the door, and the devil had answered to your thoughts. “Hello~? I’m coming in, Y/N-chan. Are you awake? I’ve got your medicine.”

Heat flooding your brain, you were already frustrated enough about the entire ordeal, and your brother’s face was the last thing you wanted to see right now. Turning around to face the wall, you buried yourself into your blankets as the sound of an opening door and a tray being set down filled the room.

“I know you’re awake,” though you couldn’t see him, you were sure Kensuke was grinning playfully behind you. “Turn around so Ken-nii-chan can give you your medicine.”

“I can do it myself, Aniki,” you grumbled from within your cocoon of warmth.

“Not with those shaky hands you’re not,” he said as-a-matter-of-factly. Growling lowly, you shifted beneath the sheets and locked gazes with your smiling brother. Eyeing his every movement as he poured the dark syrup onto a spoon (because who knows what kind of shady things he might put into it!), you rustled.

“Why are you doing this?”

Replacing the cap onto the bottle, the eldest brother’s face broke into a grin. “Because I’m both your brother and a pediatrician. So isn’t it my responsibility to do this sort of stuff? Ah, open wide~”

You quickly enveloped your mouth around the spoon, downing its contents. Your face scrunched repulsively at the artificial tang. Sour. “I suppose it’s your responsibility to make my life a living hell too?”

“That’s a good girl, Y/N-chan. Sorry it’s lemon,” he said, setting down the spoon on your bedside table before turning to you again. “I just want what’s best for you. My little Y/N-chan is different from those other good-for-nothing kids, right? It’s a big world out there and we don’t want you to suffer.”

“Would you stop treating me like a child?” you scowled, hot air spewing out from your nose. “What’s up with you three and doing that? I can function perfectly fine on my own. I’m a third year in high school. It’s so annoying that I could almost hate you. And this is all because you never want to listen to me!”

As the both of you immersed in the deadly silence, you took the time to ogle at your brother’s contorted expression.

Kensuke leaned back on his chair, eyes widened with surprise. “’L-listen’... Y/N-chan, of course we want to listen to you. I-is that not what we’ve been doing the whole time?”

“Listening isn’t the same thing as assuming what I want, Aniki. All you guys do is pile up expectations about the fantasy Y/N living inside your head, and it’s been on my mind the entire week,” you murmured, face growing redder. Though that was just the fever. You were sure of it. “I can’t be the little Y/N-chan I used to be. She’s gone. I’m me now, and the choices I make are the results of my own changes. The choices about what I do, love—”

You took one good, satisfying look at Kensuke’s face, before continuing your sermon. “—and my future. No matter how stupid it looks to you.”

“Oh, Y/N-chan...” he sobbed, striking you dumb top to bottom. Kensuke was crying. Your brother was crying, but what for? Did he catch your fever? God, being sick really did a number on people.

“We didn’t—I didn’t mean to make you feel that way! I was just scared. It was so scary to see you grow up so fast into an adult... then what next? You’ll forget us. You even said you hated me! O-oh God, I’m turning into an overbearing person... I want to commit seppuku*, I’m so sorry...”

Seppuku—Wait, this was your brother you’re talking about here. And with his degree of regret and brashness... he just might do it. How dramatic, you thought, a chuckle threatening to escape your throat.

“Geez, don’t commit seppuku, Aniki,” you sat up on your bed, handing him the pack of tissues next to your pillow. “I said I could almost hate you. But I can’t possibly do that—you’re my brother, right? Even though you three drive me crazy, to fully despise the people who care for you... That’s unfair, isn’t it? Come on, Doctor, don’t cry in front of your patients~”

Blowing his nose loudly into a tissue, he sniffed. “You must really like this guy, huh?”

You made a noise between confusion and shock.

“The old Y/N-chan wouldn’t go so far for anything if it didn’t really interest you... I was worried that he was taking advantage of you or something, to the point where you worked yourself sick. But I couldn’t help but to overhear your phone call from outside and I was relieved that it wasn’t the case.”

You leaned your head on your knees and sighed. “Of course not. Aki-chan is sweet and caring and he knows exactly how to come up with the perfect responses to my weird antics. He used to take advantage of me, and I used to take advantage of him. But that was a long time ago. He made me realize that I didn’t have to understand everything before I felt happy about anything.”

“Does he make you happy?”

“Very. Aki-chan, my band, making this song for the tournament... it all makes me happy, and nothing could be better.”

The air was thick, and Kensuke took it as his cue to leave. Giving you one last smile at the doorframe after he’d flicked the lights off, you felt relief dulling your muscles.

“If you get better by tomorrow, I-I’ll try to figure out a way to get you to that gymnasium,” he said. A promise you knew he was bound to keep. “Your boyfriend is a good person, and I’d hate for him to go through such a grueling match without your support.”

“Ken-nii-chan?” God, it was embarrassing for you to say it, but you were thankful that you were clouded with darkness. “Thanks for listening.”

“G-get some rest, Y/N-chan. Good night.” A shut of a door and muffled crying through the walls.

Good night. You said to yourself and the comforts of your empty room.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Has anyone seen Y/N-san?” Suzuke Ume, frantic captain of the Marching Band, scurried through the throngs of students, parents and teachers.

“I don’t think she got on one of the PTA buses either,” Yukie craned her neck upwards to get a better view of the audience. “Did she forget about it?”

“No way! This is Y/N-san we’re talking about. The day she forgets is the day the world collapses in on itself,” Ume gritted. “Gosh, I have to get the marching band ready and everything...”

Down below, on the polished hardwood court, the boys of the Fukurodani Volleyball Club were raving on their own as usual.

“Hey, what’s Suzuki-chan freaking out about? You think everything’s okay?” Komi whispered to the unstirring wing spiker. “Yo, Konoha, you good, man?”

Akinori said nothing. The world seemed so quiet, not even Bokuto’s early-morning racket could shake him out of it. The gymnasium held out like an empty shell to him. Was the world always so silent whenever you weren’t around? What a desolate world he lived in before you.

Lumping a sinewy arm over his shoulder, Bokuto pointed out. “Where’s Y/N-chan? She’s not coming? I heard she was going to lead the crowd.”

“She’s sick,” he finally mouthed, shrugging Bokuto off his back. “She didn’t come to school either yesterday. I’m just worried about her, ‘s all.”

At his words, Komi frantically leapt towards him. “Sick?! The Great Deity is sick? Did you visit her yesterday? How is she?”

“Y/N-chan... didn’t let me visit,” Akinori sighed. “I don’t know if I ticked her off or if she’s finally gotten bored of me... but she told me not to come even if I really really wanted to.”

As the sentence left his mouth, a shrill whistle resounded in the gymnasium, bouncing off the walls in a warning manner. That was that. The tournament you so hoped to attend the entire week, gone in a matter of seconds.

“Waaaait! Sorry I’m late!”

Like seagulls flocking to breadcrumbs, the entirety of the gym turned its head to the northwest entrance. Where a girl donned in a lopsided Fukurodani uniform and a guitar case strapped to her back looked like she just ran a marathon to get here.

Akinori’s face flushed away of its color, but he couldn’t help but to smile. Elegantly poised Ume nearly dropped her baton, and the entire crowd had their jaws scattered all over the floor.

“Let’s get this party started, shall we?”

Coach Yamiji on the sidelines snickered behind his wrinkled hands. This is going to be one interesting cheer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

There was a small corner in the Tokyo Metropolitan Gymnasium, hidden to the eyes, where janitors and staff alike sparsely came by. A little close to the bathrooms, but not too bad considering there was a fragrant lavender air freshener nocked there. And at this hour, it was the perfect time for—I don’t know—perhaps a curious couple to bask themselves in an after-game moment?

Cradling your face in his hands, Akinori scrutinized the little features on your skin, his breath heavy with concern. “Are you still sick? You’re a bit warm.”

Pushing his hands away, you tapped his chest lightly. “How romantic, Aki-chan. You drag your girlfriend away to a private space only to interrogate her. I’m fine, you know~”

“Your cheeks are completely red, you can’t fool me.” He returned his hands on your cheeks, squishing them together. You looked like strawberry mochi. Cute.

“T-That’s for an entirely different reason!” you cried out, averting your gaze. Your fingers curled around your quaint chrysanthemum necklace out of instinct. “I’m really fine. My brother, the doctor, drove me here with Wataru’s taxi. And we both know he wouldn’t be the type of person to let me out of the house if I wasn’t well. And guess what? I think my brothers have finally come to accept you~!”

Sighing, he rested his forehead on your shoulder, hiding his face in your neck. “You’re troublesome, L/N Y/N. You’re lucky the cheering song was so good that we won those first few matches by a landslide. Otherwise, I would be fully scolding you right now.”

“Hehehe~ Congrats for the win.” Tilting your head against his, you let out a soft hum. “I’m sorry for worrying you, Aki-chan. What should I do for you to forgive me?”

Raising his neck to level to yours, Akinori propped his temple up against yours and spoke to you in a husky tone that made you feel feverish again.

“No one’s going to interrupt us, right?”

“Eh? I don’t think so, but what’re you doing so close—”

“Good.”

And with a soft clink of your matching necklaces bumping against each other in the vacant halls, Akinori had stolen your breath away like a phantom thief to a tower’s princess.

Warm, was the first thing he thought of at first contact. Maybe it was the residue of your night-long fight against a high fever. He might fall sick soon, but that wasn’t something to think about during a first kiss. The space between you was nearly spectral and Akinori’s beating heart was faint against your chest. It was fast, expectedly so. As his hands drifted to shyly wrap itself around the tendrils of your stray hairs, you sneakily nibbled his lower lip, erupting the bubbles of laughter from his throat.

“You smell like sweat,” you poked at his jersey, your cheeks burning up. “Don’t just do that without giving me a warning first.”

Tucking a lock of hair behind your ear, Akinori eyed your slightly parted lips, a dash of his saliva molten upon it, “It’s payback for all the nuisances you’ve caused. So take responsibility, Y/N-chan.”

‘Responsibility’. The word seemed so foreign to you, but perhaps being liable wasn’t going to be such a bad thing—even if you were just freely riding the wave. Letting out a raucous laugh, you threw yourself against Akinori, taking as much responsibility as needed. Twice, thrice, and so on.

Bit by bit, the tailwinds of fate pointed north, and the right path for you never seemed clearer.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

yankii - delinquent

aniki - ‘older brother’, but really slang-y (usually seen in pop culture yakuza scenes)

ossan - middle-aged man (an ‘uncle’ of sorts)

taichou - commander/leader

seppuku - japanese ritual of slitting the belly

[writingfromkitchenator]

Crowley ~ Greed

1,000 Followers Challenge!

Bonus Fic!

Words: 2,412

Warnings: Mild sexual references, mild violence

When you were younger, you’d taken pleasure in taking things slow, the relaxed way of life was what you knew and all you could ever want. It gave you time to think things through, to work out what you wanted to do and to go out and see the world in the way you wanted to.

It was the simple things that kept you going, the way you could lie out in a field of flowers, watching the clouds, listening to your mother sing as you say and did homework or doodling on a piece of paper, the exploring kisses that would be stolen in the school yard or in a dark park when you’d snuck out at night.

A part of you missed those times, before it all sped up and all went wrong.

Adult life was nothing that you could ever be prepared for, even less so for discovering that there were monsters in it, and after being left with virtually nothing, you decided that you wanted in.

Hunting consumed you pretty quick and you soon worked out that there was little time to slow down, there always seemed to be something to do and no time for just the regular things of life, including relationships, and while it happened, it seemed to be something far and few between.

What you used to do, getting to know someone first, went to the backburner, it all became fast wild nights in less than par motel rooms with nameless faces, alcohol burning through the bloodstream, and an awkward moment for someone in the morning.

You weren’t proud of it, but you were addicted to it.  It made things feel normal, still in control, and while not the life you wanted, you wouldn’t have traded it in for the world, no matter how hard, bloody and messy it got, or how grey it seemed.

Then you met the Winchester’s and your life changed again.

It wasn’t hard to spot the two brothers as hunters, you knew the type by now, and you’d been stuck on this case for a while, so welcomed the help, no matter how reluctant they were at first.

After that, you became an odd sort of trio out of the road, and while you took your own path occasional, you just had a feeling that it was going to be better being around them.

Better was a hard thing to justify when the apocalypse threatened, not entirely sure what to do about it, feeling a little out of place for the first time in your life.

You’d never really dealt with the grief and bitterness of what you’d lost, and this was bringing a lot of it back up.  No manner of angel or demon was going to be able to rid you of those thoughts, so you left, at least for a little while, convincing Sam, Dean and Castiel that you had a lead to follow.  You didn’t care if they bought it or not, you just had to get away.

It didn’t take long to hear that apocalypse was over and while shame held you back at first, when news reached you that things were going bad for the Winchester’s again, you knew you had to go back.

Neither Winchester ever really trusted you again, pushing you more to the backburner on cases than you would like, but you didn’t blame them, you counted yourself lucky that they hadn’t just turned you away.

Being left behind or as the extra hand all the time, was how you met Crowley.

“Why the glum look love?”  He asked one day, watching as you flicked disinterestedly through a book, the visits far and few between, but he was smart and careful enough to do it without the boys around.  “I thought you would’ve liked being on your own with the way they treat you?”

You spare him a glance, never surprised by his visits. “It’s dull work Crowley.”

He snorts.  “Maybe I should offer it up as a new torture method in Hell.”

A small smile tugged at your lips as you flicked through more pages. “Honestly, it’s kind of a nice change from the chaos of hunting, it’s not enthralling, but it’s closer to how things used to be.”

“Boring?”  Crowley’s voice a little surprised as he looked at you.

“Simple.”  You said. “Less complex and definitely less grey.”

You could feel his eyes on you, watching as you turned more pages. “That can easily be changed love.”

Chuckling, you shake your head.  “Nice try Crowley, I’m not that desperate.”

It took you a long time to realise that Crowley’s visits weren’t just trying to convince you to do a deal with him, and that he was just a little more than curious about you and what exactly you could do, but what you were going to do with that information was another story entirely.

Hunting was as chaotic as ever, Sam and Dean slowly letting you get more involved again after you proved you weren’t going anywhere in another potential world ending crisis, and while they still didn’t entirely trust you, even pairing you with Crowley on the odd hunt or two, they were more at ease with an extra set of hands.

Your personal life, however, slowed down, you became disinterested in the one night stands and awkward mornings, wanting something more, but never really sure what.

Or more, not wanting to admit to yourself what.

That was until you watched as Sam and Dean tried to cure Crowley. You never thought that a demon was capable of breaking, never thought that they could show any normal emotions again, but there you were, watching Crowley going through what was clearly, earnestly, the worst moment of his demonic life.

As you watched, you felt what you’d been denying tug forward a little in your mind, and no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t shake it away.

Sam and Dean leaving you on guard duty didn’t help your situation because you found that you couldn’t keep yourself away from the room that they decided to keep him in.

Crowley always greeted you with a sly smile, although there was no missing the pain hidden behind his eyes now.  “Back for more love?”

You would just sit at the table in the room, sometimes answering, sometimes not.  “Well, they asked me to keep an eye on you.”

“I didn’t realise that that had to be so personal.”

“Don’t flatter yourself Crowley,” Your voice always went quieter when you said it, carefully avoiding his gaze.  “Things are just becoming okay between Sam, Dean and I. I’m not about to mess that up.”

He always smirked and fell silent with a shake of his head, you always missing the slightly uncertain look in his eye as he casts you a glance.

Then Crowley got away and things ramped up in speed, demons hunting demons and angels hunting angels and you all felt trapped in the middle.

But when you heard Sam and Dean had tracked down Crowley, something in your gut told you that you had to get there first.

You hadn’t told Sam and Dean, but you’d been setting up a safe room well away from the Bunker, you had a feeling that it was going to become a hot spot sooner or later, become compromised, and you wanted somewhere away from that.

It was still hard to tell who was more surprised when you knocked on Crowley’s hotel door, you at the fact that you’d gotten there first, or him that it was you standing there.

“We need to go.”  You said quickly.  “Sam and Dean won’t be far behind.”

There was an odd silence as you drove, very aware that Crowley was watching you out of the corner of his eye, but you chose to ignore him, the exhausted and semi defeated look his eyes when he’d opened the door still weighing heavily in your mind.

As he stepped inside of your safehouse, he finally broke the silence.  “Are you sure you aren’t imprisoning me here?”

You didn’t smile at the comment, instead, making sure that the door was locked.  “I disabled the demon traps and any other anti-demon glyphs, so no, you’re still free to do as you please.”

Crowley frowned at you.  “I wasn’t being serious Y/N, in fact, it may even be better to have some in place, but-” He paused, thinking, looking around the room.  “Where did you learn all this?”

“You get forced to read enough books, you do eventually pick up more than you should.”  You said, moving past him and heading into the kitchen, uncertainty beating at you as you grab a glass and fill it with water.  “But there’s plenty of things here, I’d find it hard for even you to get bored.”

He was hesitating, you could feel it as he watched you drain the glass of water, unsure of what to say or do.  “You didn’t have to help me Y/N.”

Sighing, you filled the glass up again, wanting to look anywhere but him.  “Look, I’m not stupid Crowley, I know that that mark is bad, meaning that that blade that they want you to find, is even worse.  So yeah, I do need to do this, because there’s got to be other ways around this.”

Crowley steps a little closer.  “You know you don’t owe us anything.  You still have a chance to walk away, leave all this behind and-”

“For what Crowley?”  You asked, finally looking at him, your own gaze tired.  “I have nothing out there, this life is all I’ve got, no matter how shit it is at times.  I’m here and I’m staying.”

It became suddenly hard to read Crowley’s expression, although his eyes showed his inner debate on what to say next.  “You know all you have to do is ask.”

“And give myself ten years of a normal life?  No, I like to think I deserve better than that.”  You said bitterly, leaning back on the cupboard. “And even then, there’s too much there for me to turn my back on again, even if my memories were reset, I think I’d still find my way back here.”

Crowley shifts a little uncomfortably, opening and closing his mouth a few times before he finally speaks.  “It wouldn't be ten years, I'd make sure that you'd be free from anything.”

He was avoiding your gaze now and you realised just how unspoken this thing was.  “I can't leave Crowley, not again.”

There was a dim hope in his eyes, one you knew you wouldn't be seeing if it wasn't for the human blood in his veins.  “No one would judge you if you did.”

A small smile came to you and you couldn't help but laugh quietly. “Plenty would, especially when I've done it once already.  They might be happy for me, but they would also still judge.”

“I wouldn't.”

It almost physically hurt to hear that, making you flinch a little. “You don't want me to go Crowley.”

You wanted to deny it entirely, continue to ignore the way you felt, but you knew it was a lie you couldn't keep up, your heart beat increasing as he stepped closer.

“I don't,” He said softly, something almost like panic flashing across his gaze.  “But I also don't want to see you just fade into the background.  I want you to have your own story love.”

You give him a sad smile.  “Aren't you just the epitome of good and evil.  Caught between being right and being selfish.”

Crowley blanches, watching you closely.  “It's all shades of grey, that's all.  My reasons are selfish, even greedy, but I like to think I have some reasonable intention behind them.”

“Greedy?”

He nods, slowly, as if thinking about it.  “I...I wanted you to myself, for better or worse, I was never sure.” His nose screws up.  “This damned addiction, it's going to be the death of me you know.”

“That's the thing, isn't it Crowley?” You asked sadly. “How's this going to go when you get over this?  Would you even be here and offering me this were you normal?”

His hesitation was answer enough.

“That's what I thought.” Your voice quiet and you looked away, pushing away a little from the bench.  “Nothing's changed Crowley, you are welcome to stay.”

You were surprised when his hand wrapped around your arm, stilling you before you could move on, your gaze meeting his with surprise, finding it unsure, maybe a little afraid.

“If I were feeling like myself,” He said quietly, cautiously. “Then I would ask you still to be at my side, for better or for worse, because even if I wasn't an emotional wreck, I'd still want you, I've wanted you from the moment I met you.  I've never graced another as I have with you, never made the same exceptions I have with you.  It's you and you only Y/N, no matter what.”

The truth was there, in his eyes more than his words, bared before you more than what anyone else ever had and in that moment, you finally admitted to yourself what you'd been avoiding for so long.

It was him and only him.  If that made you selfish or greedy or whatever, you didn't care, if it meant you had to run away from the world, then so be it.

You closed the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips to his, much to his surprise.  It was short, unsure, and you pulled back enough to meet his eyes.

Crowley cupped your cheeks and kissed you back, keeping it slow, exploring, a small moan bubbling in your throat as it took you back to those younger days when things were simpler and easier and you could take your time in life.  It seemed like time slowed for this moment and as Crowley deepened the kiss, you hoped it would always be like this with him, that the two of you could live in the moment.

There was no more dancing around this, just as there would be no hiding the truth when it came around to it, you both knew that Sam and Dean would know, but right now, as you melted into Crowley's touch, his lips starting to trail down your jaw in a slow, purposeful manner, none of it mattered.

This was just you and him.

[cinnaminsvga]

Wish on a Fish | Namjoon

→ summary: namjoon’s got fish-shaped pastries on the brain, and you’ve got namjoon-shaped space in your heart. you both learn to make do. → genre: fluff, humor → words: 3.9K → a/n: i had this in my wips since october 2018 and i decided to finish it because it’s loving namjoon hours (but when is it not?) also this was inspired by this galaxy brain quote from the man himself: “ain’t no fish inside”

“Y/N has a crush on you.”

The owner of the voice giggles when Namjoon lifts his head up in confusion, a sticky note with various mathematical equations hanging precariously from his forehead. An unflattering doodle of what appears to be a worm with Yoongi’s face has imprinted itself like a makeshift tattoo from where his cheek had rested upon his notebook. None of that information explains what year he has woken up in, what dimensions he has slipped into, nor why Hoseok has decided to tell him this very unlikely factoid when he was clearly busy with his guilt nap.

[guilt nap (n.) when Namjoon has kept his eyes open for an extended amount of time, to the point where colors start making noise and numbers start looking like letters, so he sleeps in various public places to reboot his brain; hardly ever works but he still tries.]

“Whuzzat?” Namjoon asks, verbose. The sticky note is on its last dredges of stickiness, and Hoseok watches it flop down from its perch and into his friend’s agape mouth. Hoseok plucks it away kindly, but Namjoon doesn’t even seem to have noticed its disappearance.

“You look like shit,” Hoseok replies instead, pulling a chair beside Namjoon and carefully pushing aside what appears to be a glass of curdled milk. Hoseok’s nose crinkles in disgust. “Dude. Was this the milk tea from free Boba Tuesday?”

“Yeah?” Namjoon blinks owlishly. It appears that his brain hasn’t fully awakened yet, because he goes to grab the cup and bring it to his lips when Hoseok saves him by plucking the offending object out of his hands too.

“Namjoon. Free Boba Tuesday was three days ago. It’s Friday evening. This is three-day-old milk tea.”

“No way. You’re kidding,” Namjoon says, peering into the cup and making a startled face at the solidified mass. He jiggles it in wonder, beholding in its jelliness. “Wow. Do you think I could donate this to the bio labs? I heard they were looking for more e. coli samples.”

“Why the fuck would this have e. coli in it? Unless you took a shit in—“ Hoseok begins, but clamps his mouth shut when it looks like Namjoon is about to defend himself. He backtracks, “You know what? I don’t want to know.”

“Why are you here again?” Namjoon grumbles, trying to salvage his crumpled notes by smoothing them with his hands. He rips one of them in half, and he gazes at the mess with the eyes of a defeated man. He sighs. “Look, I’m really busy right now. I don’t have time to get roasted AND study for finals at the same time. You’re gonna have to schedule an appointment with me.”

“As much as I enjoy making fun of your poor hygiene and self-care skills, I have a reason for being here. Like I just said, I came here to tell you that Y/N has a crush on you,” Hoseok repeats, eyes gleaming with mischief. “Heard her talking about you in the labs this morning.”

Namjoon stares at him. Hoseok watches in worry as his friend’s irises start to become unfocused slightly.

“Dude,” Hoseok says, waving a hand in front of him. “Did you hear what I said?” Namjoon thankfully blinks back.

“Yeah. Okay, thanks.” Namjoon finally says, before grabbing his notebook to see where he left off. He doesn’t notice that his notes are upside down when he begins to write gibberish that must only make sense to him. Hoseok thinks he can see the word ‘churros’ somewhere in there, but he isn’t 100% certain.

Namjoon continues, “Do you think the cafeteria is still open at this hour? I don’t think I’ve drunk water in two days.”

“Okay, thanks? That’s all you have to say to my jawdropping discovery?” Hoseok exclaims, pinching Namjoon’s cheek. The Yoongi doodle on his cheek smudges from his fingers, making him appear even wormier than before. “Y/N is in your Chemistry class, right? The one with the serial killer professor?”

“Yeah,” Namjoon hums, scratching out the word ‘churro’ and replacing it with ‘grilled cheese’ instead. The amount of concentration on his face is disconcerting, to say the least. It looks like he’s writing down a grocery list beside his calculus homework. “Professor Kang isn’t a serial killer, by the way. He’s just stressed.”

Hoseok gives his friend a once-over, disbelieving. “Yeah, I can see why you’d defend him. Takes one to know one,” he snorts, grimacing at the pit stains lining his friend’s gray shirt. “Honestly, Y/N must be a serial killer herself if she thinks you’re worth any sort of attraction. You smell like the market, dude.”

“Speaking of, do you know what I want from the market right now?” Namjoon drops his pen, leaving an unfinished doodle of another portrait of wormy Yoongi screaming in terror under the heat of a magnifying glass. Hoseok reminds himself to tell his hyung to lock his doors later that evening.

“Uhh… No?”

“Those silly fish cake things, with the red bean,” Namjoon murmurs, determination set in his jaw. He stands up suddenly, slamming his notebooks closed and stuffing them into his backpack. In his hurry, he knocks over the cup of curdled milk tea all over the library floor, and Hoseok half-expects it to start melting the carpet like acid. “It’s funny though, because why the hell would they shape them like that? Ain’t no fish inside… Why would they try to deceive us like that?”

“Dude, you okay?” Hoseok asks, slightly worried for his friend but not worried enough to feel bothered to stop him from potentially running into oncoming traffic.

“Need a snack. Be back,” Namjoon says, rushing out of the library in a speed uncanny for the long-legged man. Hoseok watches as he reaches the front entrance of the library exit, before he inadvertently stops in his tracks, and looks back at the still seated Hoseok.

Hoseok raises a brow. “You forgetting something?”

Namjoon opens his mouth. Closes it. Scrunches up his face like he’s just released a fart. Then, “Hey. I just rhymed. That’s cool,” he says in awe of himself, before finally making his way out of the library without waving goodbye.

Left behind to contemplate his friend choices, Hoseok heaves a heavy sigh, staring forlornly at the abandoned doodle of worm Yoongi. He shakes his head, defeated. “I tried, Y/N. I really did.”

—��***——

Namjoon makes his way to the market, after a quick stop to his apartment for a change of clothes. He had only thought to change when a woman and her young daughter had taken one sniff from his general direction and ran quickly into a nearby shop to avoid his cloying stench. He at least had the decency to give the duo a sheepish look before scuttling off to his apartment in embarrassment.

Now slightly better smelling but not any less sleep-deprived, Namjoon enters the nearby open market with an agenda. He passes numerous food stalls, almost being tempted by the loud aunties to buy every single food product that he can fit into his ink-stained hands. He can’t afford to settle for any other sugary product, not when he already has his eye on the main prize.

His torment does not last long because over in the corner of the street where a long line has formed, he sees the sign for freshly cooked bungeoppang.

He hurries over, almost tripping over his own feet when he makes it to the end of the line. For whatever reason, the entirety of Seoul has also decided that they’d also like to eat some bungeoppang today as the line was over 30 people long. Namjoon glances at his watch, seeing that he only has 5 hours left until his next final and he desperately needs to finish revising the last chapter of his notes.

He sees the stall for hotteok close by where the line is significantly shorter. He’s partially debating on switching lanes and settling for his second favorite treat when he sees a familiar head of hair standing by the bungeoppang stall, seemingly debating the same thing as himself.

It’s you.

“Damn, what a line…” Namjoon hears you say to yourself, gazing longingly at the piping hot red bean goodness. Shaking your head, you sigh deeply, ready to leave bungeoppang-less. You’re just about to walk out of sight from Namjoon when he finally thinks to call out to you in greeting.

“Y/N! Over here!” He calls out, and he wonders if you’ll hear him over the sound of the crowd. Surprisingly, you turn around swiftly at the sound of his voice, able to pinpoint his hoarse voice anytime and anywhere. Your cheeks darken when you see him, apparently blind to the fact that he did not look the least bit decent with his dark eyebags and the telltale sign of dried drool on the side of his cheek. To you, he’ll always look gorgeous, even underneath the dingy fluorescent lights of the night market.

“Namjoon? What a coincidence to see you here!” You greet back, walking towards him with a skip in your step. To the chagrin of the five other people behind Namjoon, you insert yourself beside him and into the line for the bungeoppang. Namjoon doesn’t seem to mind, but that could also be the fact that his brain was running on 2 hours of sleep and three cans of energy drinks, but who can say?

“Same here. Are you here for a pre-exam snack too?”

“Sorta,” you hum, smiling. “I was about to ditch this place for the kimbap place near the Arts building because of this line, but then I saw you here so I guess I’ll brave the wait time with you.”

“Oh, sorry to interrupt you from your plans, then.” Namjoon sounds genuinely remorseful, and you have to force yourself not to coo at his crestfallen face. “I just wanted to say hello, you know?”

“It’s no problem, really. I really did have a craving for some bungeoppang, so it’s not like I’m losing anything. Besides, I miss talking to you, so it’s no big deal,” you say the last part quietly, eyes turning downwards in embarrassment. “It’s just… I haven’t seen you in so long.”

However, you’re not really embarrassed––not quite. It is well known around your circle of friends that you have a massive crush on the Biochemistry major, much to the confusion of everyone who knows you. Not to say that Namjoon was terrible, but when you stop to think about how… out of it he was, it’s kind of hard to imagine why you would want to pursue a relationship with him. Dozens of people have already tried their hand at confessing to him, but to no avail. The dude is as dense as a rock, and perhaps that is part of the appeal to you. You always have been a bit of a morosexual.

Besides, you have an advantage: you’re blinded by a misplaced determination for all things Kim Namjoon. In your eyes, all it takes is a few psychological tricks to get his head out of his ass, and you are set for life. If treating Namjoon like a psychology experiment seems unethical to others, well. Let’s just see who is crying when you eventually snatch his heart and win his hand.

If Hoseok had promised his end of the deal, you know that he’s planted the seed in Namjoon already. Assuming things are going according to plan, then Hoseok should have told him about your not-so-secret crush on him, so Namjoon should be aware of your attraction to him. At a glance, Namjoon doesn’t seem to be treating you any differently, but that could just be his way of being polite. Or, you know. He could also be an idiot. Passing him at the market only means another opportunity for you to butter him up and make him yours.

“I miss talking to you too,” Namjoon replies, dimples showing from how hard he’s smiling. You feel your heart jump up to your throat and fall back down to your ass.

“Really? Could’ve sworn that you’ve been avoiding me. Haven’t seen you in two weeks!” you say accusingly, both as a joke but also for real. The hurt is probably evident on your face, even to the likes of Namjoon.

He pouts ruefully at you. “Aw, you know I don’t mean to. I have six finals this term, and I’m terribly behind because of all the extra-curriculars I’ve had to take. You know I could never avoid you on purpose,” he says, brows furrowed in concern. If that isn’t enough, he pulls the rug from under you by brushing a stray strand of hair away from your eyes and tucks it gently behind your ear.

Unbeknownst to the lanky brunette, his words and actions have caused you to start combusting on the inside with unbridled endearment. How the actual fuck could he say that shit with a straight face? And to your weak and fragile heart? Right in front of your bungeoppang? The nerve of this guy! There’s no way that your feelings aren’t unreciprocated––your plan must have worked!

You take a shaky breath, gathering your thoughts. As much as his words seem like an indication of his feelings, you have to make sure. You didn’t survive all these years as one of your university’s top student researchers without knowing the importance of testing your hypothesis. You need to run some tests first before coming to a conclusion.

“Speaking of avoiding friends… I haven’t seen Hoseok in a while. I miss hanging out with him and Yoongi,” you say as nonchalantly as you can, observing Namjoon from the corner of your eye. Namjoon nods in agreement, stepping forward as the line begins to shorten bit by bit. You can almost see the vendor flipping the cakes in their flat iron griddles from where you stand.

“Me too. I saw Hoseok just a few minutes ago before I left to go here. Haven’t seen Yoongi since that party at Seokjin’s, but that’s about it.”

“Oh? You just saw Hoseok? Did he say anything… in particular?” you ask. You feel sweat beginning to build along your palms, and you have to grasp the ends of your sweater to keep yourself from fidgeting. You wait with bated breath as the boy thinks of a response.

“Yeah actually. He mentioned something about you too––wait, hold that thought,” Namjoon stops himself, and you only realize then that you’ve arrived at the front of the line. He turns to you expectantly. “You wanna order first?”

“Huh?” You stare at him dumbfoundedly, your brain fighting to catch up with your surroundings. It isn’t until you hear the irritated sounds of the impatient customers behind you that you manage to snap out of your trance. “Oh. Right. Yeah, I just want one original flavor please.”

“I’ll have three,” Namjoon says, and neither you nor the vendor says anything about the amount he has ordered. Who was anyone to judge him and his fondness for fish-shaped pastries?

Just as you are about to hand over your own payment to the saleslady, Namjoon shoves a bill over yours, nudging your hands away. You squawk indignantly, your protests bubbling underneath your tongue before he gives you a firm look.

“No buts. I’m paying this time as an apology for ignoring you over school,” he says, grinning. You hear the vendor giggle at the two of you, remarking how cute the two of you are. “Thanks,” Namjoon replies, leaving the change for the auntie as a tip. The flush enveloping your face refuses to die, even as the two of you exit the market together.

“You really didn’t have to pay for me,” you mutter, nibbling the treat and letting the warmth envelope you in the cold weather. When you glance at him, you see Namjoon take a huge bite of his first fish cake, cheeks bulging in what most might have found unattractive. You, on the other hand, have to keep yourself from swooning in delight.

“Of course I did,” Namjoon says, or at least, he tries to. He speaks with his mouth full, but luckily you’ve lived with rambunctious males all your life and have learned the fine art of deciphering words even with chunks of food in the way. He successfully swallows the pastry down thickly, and you have to stop yourself from ogling his throat for too long. “You’re my friend, and I care about all of my friends.”

At his innocent admission, your mood is shot down almost immediately, the icy feeling of disappointment running down your back. You’re just his friend, your brain echoes unhelpfully. Your excitement a while ago had been premature––he had only said those sweet words as a friend. At that realization, you drop your gaze down to the pavement, unwilling to show him your sorrow.

Namjoon slows in his walk, noticing your sulking almost immediately. “Hey, you alright?” he asks, patting your back as the two of you stop at a crosswalk. You force yourself not to flinch at his touch.

“Um. I’m fine. Sorry, I just started thinking about the final I have tomorrow,” you lie, keeping your voice steady. The fact that your plan had failed before it even had the chance to begin makes you wonder why you had even thought you would be able to get Namjoon to like you back in the first place. What is the point, when others have tried before you and have failed miserably? What makes you special?

It’s hard to let go though, not with how gentle and kind his touch is as he smooths his hand over your shoulders, rubbing gently. It’s hard to not fall in love with this gigantic dork, with his wire-framed glasses and his ill-fitting flannel shirt. Hell, even the stupid doodle of Yoongi as a worm on his cheek is cute as fuck. Everything about this stupidly endearing genius makes you want to try and try again, even if failure is just around the corner.

Maybe the biggest idiot at the end of the day is yourself. Love really does make all of us stupid, and you are just another victim of one of Cupid’s arrows. That bow-wielding diaper-wearing man can kiss your ass, you surmise.

“Finals suck, but I know you can do it,” Namjoon says with painfully genuine confidence. You ignore the way your heart seizes, biting the head of your fish cake with much more force than necessary.

The two of you cross the street in silence, your forearms touching occasionally as you get closer to the library. You know that Namjoon is probably going to head back there, so you’re about to say your goodbyes and run to your dorm and sing along to some sad Adele songs when Namjoon’s voice stops you once more.

“Hey. I forgot to say a while ago, but I was just about to tell you about Hoseok before we got our bungeoppang,” he says.

You freeze immediately. In those crummy k-dramas, this is always where the girl gets her heartbroken, you realize. Under the streetlamps of a cool spring evening, with no one else in sight. Just you, him, and the remains of your dignity all over the floor.

You brace yourself for the inevitable rejection that you are sure that will follow. You grit your teeth, already rehearsing the jokes you’ll have to say to numb the incoming pain. You’ll have to pretend that everything Hoseok said was just a stupid rumor, that there is no way that you could ever have a crush on him. The both of you will laugh, with him unaware of the way your heart has begun to crumble into tiny pieces with every huff of air you inhale in his presence. You ready yourself, and you tell yourself that you’ll get over it.

But the rejection doesn’t come. Instead, you’re hit by a freight train.

Namjoon is totally serious when he says, “Hoseok told me it was Friday today and that Free Boba Tuesday was three days ago, but I checked my watch and it says it’s February 20, which is a Wednesday. Do you think he was messing with me?”

You gawk at him. You clear your throat. “I-I’m sorry, but what?”

“I’m not crazy, right?” Namjoon pulls out his phone, showing you the home screen where it clearly says the supposed date today. He points at it, finger trembling with an inordinate amount of vigor. “Am I blind? That says February 20!”

Your heart, which once was ready to burst, slowly reassembles itself with frightening speed when you finish processing his words. No, it is not because you have been reinvigorated with the hope of possibly having your attraction reciprocated, but rather, because you can’t believe you have ever decided to give your heart away to a man who didn’t even know that today was, in fact, April 5. Oh my god.

There is absolutely no need to fear that Namjoon might be swept away by someone else, because only you would be dumb enough to have a crush on someone so absolutely, mind-bendingly, idiotic as him.

“Namjoon?”

“Yeah?” he looks at quizzically, neck tinted a soft pink from the cold. The soft glow of the streetlamps gives him a soft halo as he proceeds to stuff his mouth with a large bite of bungeoppang. He smiles through the fullness of his cheeks, dimples ever-present and endearing as they always have been.

Your mouth opens, then closes. Your resolve to confess to him has long since dissipated, but your adoration for him does not waver in the slightest. All you feel is fatigue and a dire need to snuggle into your warmest blankets and dream about fish pastries and a lanky, bespectacled man. Pursuing Namjoon can wait another day, maybe when both of you are a bit more lucid and free from all your pressing assessments. For now…

“Namjoon, I want you to go home and take some rest, okay? If I hear from Hoseok or anyone that you’re still cooped up in that library, I’ll ban you from bungeoppang for the rest of the semester, is that clear?” Your voice is authoritative, but the tenderness in the way you caress his cheek gives you away. Namjoon swallows his bite, blinking owlishly at your sudden display of gentleness.

“O...okay?”

“Good,” you nod firmly, patting his cheek once more and swiping away some stray red bean on his lips. Your fingers burn where they touch him. You step away from him, heading towards the opposite direction. “See you soon, Joon?”

“Y-yeah?” Namjoon stutters out, still at a loss from your odd behavior. “See you, Y/N.”

When you are nothing but a speck of blue amidst a sea of darkness, Namjoon brings a hand to where your fingers had brushed his lips, tapping against it thoughtfully as he stares after where you had been moments ago.

He smiles to himself, shaking his head. “Nice rhyme,” he chuckles, walking away from the library and towards his own apartment. Even with his mind still foggy with math equations and chemistry nomenclature, his heart still manages to do a flip at the thought of seeing you again soon.

Only two finals away.