#so far he's never gotten truly angry or shut him down over it but idk I think he should and has the right so here we are | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kylie-writes-stuff · 3 years

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Too Far

pairing: rodrick heffley x gn!reader ; greg x platonic!reader (but it's mostly a sweet family fic between rodrick and greg)

warnings: cussing, rodrick thinks greg ran away/is missing, rodrick's probably ooc, uh idk what else

word count: 1.7k (why is this the longest thing i’ve written-)

summary: (takes place during rodrick rules) y/n has been a good neighbor and friend for a while now. either of the heffley boys can go to them for anything.

a/n: im a strong believer in the fact that rodrick has a soft side and he truly cares about his little brother. he doesn't show it a lot but it's there. i love rodrick so much so i wanted to try writing for him. sorry if it's ooc but i dunno, i like it. let me know what you think :)

You were watching tv, no clue what just happened in the house down the street, when there was a knock on the door.

You got up, groaning. Who would be here this late?

You opened the door, somewhat annoyed, until you saw that it was... Greg?

It was Greg, the young boy from down the street, with tears in his eyes.

You immediately wrapped an arm around him, leading him inside, “Woah, kid, what’s wrong?”

As the two of you sat back down on the couch, he choked out an answer, “R-Rodrick.”

“What did he do this time? Want me to beat his ass for you?"

A small smile crossed your face when you were able to make the boy chuckle.

He explained that him and Rodrick had a great night together but things went bad once they got home. He said that their parents found the pictures from the party last week, which you had attended, and both the boys got it trouble. But that wasn't why Greg was crying. He was crying because Rodrick was disappointed in him and said some hurtful things.

You didn't push any further. Greg was a tough kid, most of the time, so whatever Rodrick said must've been really bad.

"Wait," you said after a few minutes, "Do your parents know you're here?"

"N-no. I snuck out."

"Greg, you can't do that," you said sternly. You weren't angry, just worried.

"You and Rodrick both sneak out all the time," He tried to reason.

"That's different. We're both old enough to take care of ourselves. No offense, but you're still just a kid. If your parents find out they're gonna be worried sick."

"Can I just stay for a while longer? Please? Besides if they find out I'm gone, they'll probably check here first."

It was true. Greg and Rowley would come to your house sometimes, just to have a different place to hang out. Your parents were away a lot of the time so it worked out.

You were Greg's babysitter when he was in 5th and 6th grade. Ms. Heffley knew you were a responsible kid and she didn't exactly want Rodrick in charge. Now he's in 7th and he's trusted a bit more so you didn't have to take care of him anymore. During that time was when you and Greg got close. The two of you became friends.

You had gotten pretty close with Rodrick too. Especially since you had a lot of the same classes in school. The two of you had similar interests so you would hang out sometimes.

Of course, you couldn't say no to Greg.

You two sat and watched whatever he wanted to watch. You told him that he could have whatever he wanted from the kitchen, it didn't matter. He immediately searched for ice cream, making you laugh.

Soon there was another knock on the door. This time you looked out the peep hole.

"It's Rodrick," you whispered to Greg.

"I'm not here!" He whispered back, running up the stairs.

You waited until he was all the way upstairs, before you opened the door, "Rodrick? Hey, what's up?"

He looked back at you with panicked eyes, "(Y/n), you gotta helped me."

You ushered him in, just as you had done with his younger brother not long ago, and you two sat down. "Of course, what is it?"

"Well I- me and Greg got into a fight I guess? I said some stuff I shouldn't have. I- Fuck, (Y/n), I messed up... I took it too far."

You gently put a hand on his knee, "Hey, relax. You're okay. What do you mean you took it too far?"

"I told him that... I said 'you might be my brother, but you'll never be my friend'. W-We got in trouble for something and I got mad at him. Obviously I don't mean it, i-it just kinda slipped out."

"Okay, well, we both how Greg is. I'm sure he'll understand if you just tell him and apologize. You two will be fine," you offered him a soft smile.

To your surprise, he shook his head.

"That's not what I need your help with."

"Oh," was all you could say.

"I went to check on him a while ago because he's never been in this much trouble, I wanted to make sure he was okay. Mom and Dad were already asleep. I- I went into his room and... and he was gone. (Y/n), I don't know what to do."

You pulled him into a hug, him quickly latching onto you. You gently ran your fingers through his hair. "It's okay Rodrick. I'll help you find him."

Of course, you knew where he was. But you wouldn't give away Greg's spot if he didn't want you too.

Rodrick looked up at you, "You will?"

"Of course, let me get a jacket and we'll go."

You went up the stairs and into your room, where Greg was sitting on your bed.

"Dude, he-"

"I heard all of it. I understand."

"Oh good," you said, waking to your closet to get a jacket, "So, do you forgive him?"

"Of course, he's my brother," The two of you smiled.

As you pulled on your jacket, you asked, "Well what do you wanna do? He's ready to go searching for you."

"Maybe you two can drive around for a while and come back, and i'll just be on the sidewalk around here? I don't know, I just don't him to get at you for lying." He suggested.

You thought about it, nodding.

"Okay... but be careful, alright? Stay in here for like 15 minutes, then you can go out."

You went back downstairs and grabbed your keys. Rodrick followed you out and into your car.

"He couldn't have gone far, right?" He asked, bouncing his knee up and down.

"Nah, i'm sure he stayed close. Lets just check the neighborhood, yeah?" You said.

You drove around, one hand on the steering wheel and the other on the center console where Rodrick was holding it tightly.

"H-he can't be gone. (Y/n), he can't!"

Of course, you haven't "found" Greg yet. Rodrick was freaking out.

You pulled over and pressed a soft kiss to his knuckles, his hand still in yours.

"Hey, Rod, it's okay. We'll find him, I promise."

Rodrick shook his head, his eyes becoming glossy. You felt bad for letting him believe Greg was really gone for so long, but you told Greg you'd stick with his plan. And you were true to your word.

"What if we don't?" His voice cracked.

"We will, I promise. But it's getting late and you should rest. We'll go looking for him first thing in the morning. I bet you he probably went to Rowley's house."

"Yeah... yeah, that makes sense," Rodrick nodded. "Thank you."

"You know I'd do anything for you. For Greg, too. I love that kid."

Rodrick smiled, hearing you speak so fondly of his younger brother. In that moment, he knew everything would work out.

You started driving back to the cul-de-sac you guys lived on. Rodrick leaned his head against the window and started to dose off, his hand still holding yours tightly.

Then you saw it. Greg walking on the sidewalk, just like he said he would.

"Rodrick! Dude!" You shook him awake.

"Huh? What?" He woke up, startled.

"Look!" You pointed over to Greg while pulling over.

Rodrick saw him and as soon as you stopped the car, he opened the door and stumbled out.

"Greg!" He called out to his younger brother.

Before Greg could even turn around, Rodrick had him engulfed in a hug. The display of affection obviously took Greg by surprised.

"Don't ever do that again," Rodrick paused, trying to come up with some sort of insult, "... dumbass."

"I won't, I promise."

You watched as the two brothers smiled at each other. A rare occurrence for sure, but a nice one.

Rodrick lightly pushed Greg towards the car and they both got in.

"Hey (Y/n)." Greg said from the back seat.

"Hey, kid, glad you're safe," You smiled back at him.

"Yeah."

"Had this guy close to bursting into tears," You snickered, gesturing towards Rodrick and trying to lighten the mood.

"Don't tell him that!" Rodrick mumbled as he nudged your arm. This only made you and Greg giggle more.

You saw a smile form on Rodrick's lips, despite him trying to hide it. Laughter was, indeed, contagious.

You poked his cheek, making him chuckle.

You started to drive towards the Heffley house, the mood in the car now light and playful. You pulled into their driveway and unlocked the doors.

"Go inside, twerp. I'll catch up." Rodrick said.

"Okay," Greg smiled, getting out and heading towards the door.

"(Y/n)... thank you." Rodrick said, his voice softer as he looked down at his shoes.

"For what?"

"I dunno, everything. I mean, who would get up in the middle of the night and help some loser look for their little brother?"

"Oh c'mon, Rodrick. I'd go to the ends of the earth for you or that kid. It's no big deal, really." You said.

"It is to me. Thank you," He finally looked up at you, and you could see the sincerity in his eyes.

"Anytime."

"Can I- um... can I try something?" He asked. His eyes darted away from you for a split second.

"Well, uh, yeah. Sure." You said, curious to as what wants to do.

Suddenly, Rodrick put his hand on your cheek and leaned in. You felt his lips press against yours softly and closed your eyes. The kiss lasted only a little bit, but it felt much longer.

You couldn’t lie. It felt amazing. Kissing Rodrick just felt so... right. It’s like your lips were made for each other.

He pulled back a little and you smiled, laughing softly.

"Is- Is that a good thing?" He asked.

"I dunno, you tell me."

You leaned in and kissed him again. He was quick to kiss back. Eventually you leaned back.

"You should get inside," Another kiss, "Don't want you getting in more trouble."

Rodrick's usual confidence came back and he smirked, "If it's for you, it's worth it."

"Shut up!" You laughed.

He chuckled and pecked your cheek, before walking to the door.

As you pulled into your own driveway, you smiled.

Your relationship with Rodrick Heffley had changed tonight. But you know it had changed for the better.

#rodrick heffley #rodrick heffley x reader #rodrick x reader #diary of a wimpy kid #diary of a wimpy kid rodrick #rodrick heffley x y/n #rodrick heffley fanfic #rodrick heffley imagine

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princeanxious · 4 years

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Trust is a Fragile, Fickle Demon.

Pairing: Analogical

Fandom: Sanders sides

Warnings: hurt/comfort, happy ending, mentions of childhood trauma, mentions of mental abuse, mentions of abusive parent, mentioned of past betrayed trust, trust issues, let me know if i missed anything!

Wordcount: 1.9k words

(A/n): this is sort of a short one, idk that im very proud of it, its written a little differently than I normally write so let me know if ya’ll like it? I tried!

Trust was something earned, gained, given, not expected. At least, to Logan, thats how it’d always been. The omega had learned young the mistake of trusting anyone so readily, a freely given token of connection that only served to hurt him in the long run.

Even now, Logan was aware his upbringing had been slightly rougher than his common peers. His therapists all readily, or subtly, pointed out that his alcoholic alpha of a single father who never should have been a parent to begin with was undoubtedly the root cause of many of his issues.

First of all of them was the lasting trauma of the emotional abuse he’d endured as a child and teenager. Never smart enough, never quiet enough, never clean enough. He was never enough, he was never going to be enough. He was a weak, broken, and useless omega in his father's eyes, and would never amount to anything more. And while he never wanted to believe it, often said he never believed any of it, he could only confidently say he didn’t truly believe even just part of it by the time he was 23.

Another was that he’d never been given any freedom to do as he pleased when he was younger. He never got to visit friends or do anything more fun than read at the library(and boy did he read any chance that he got back then). His first real social outing was when Roman, his then longtime college roommate and current best friend, had playfully offered for him to come join him to go buy icecream at midnight. But, that story is better saved for a different time.

All you need to know is that, that midnight ice cream became a bi-weekly routine, and the other omega learned more about Logan than he thought he’d ever get out of the closed off nerd that night. Perhaps one could even go so far to say that Roman was the reason Logan ever even dared to go to a therapist in the first place.

Logan had become very stunted from the childhood neglect he’d endured. Omegas had many self-soothing mannerisms built into their primal instincts to comfort themselves when stressed, like purring when upset(was well as when happy or content!) and nesting to decompress or hide in a safe zone when stressed. And well, Logan had pretty much stifled his purring by the time he was 14, and.. Completely stopped nesting by the time he was 9.

There had been no point, and both had become increasingly dangerous to do as he grew older. Anytime his father caught him purring, the Alpha would berate him for being ungrateful, seeing it as a weakness. And no matter how well he’d try to hide his safety nests, his father would inevitably find them and destroy them. Far too many afternoons were ruined when he came home to find his father in a drunken stupor and his newest safe haven wrecked beyond repair, and stinking to high heaven of alcohol and aggressive, angry alpha pheromones.

So he gave up. He gave up trying to make the nests in hopes for comfort, in hopes for a safe haven to hide away. The longest he’d gotten was hiding away in his closet for periods of a time before his father decided it didn’t deserve a closeable door anymore.

Roman had been horrified, and promptly dragged the other omega into his own nest in distress. They spent hours like that, Logan sobbing and tucked up tenderly into Roman’s protective embrace as the omega purred and crooned comfortingly enough for the both of them.

It would be Roman to encourage Logan to begin nesting again. They’d made a whole day out of it, going out and buying brand new nesting materials along with comfort food and rented movies. Slowly but surely, Logan rebuilt his nest for the first time in a little over 10 years, and he was in heaven. And day by day, every time he came home to it intact and undisturbed, Logan’s psyche was assured just a little more that the nest was safe, that he was finally safe.

And no one could really be surprised that Logan became viscerally protective of his nest, even more so than the average omega, at that. The first time they realized this, one of their mutual friends, a beta named Patton, had suddenly come close to his nest in excitement over the new addition. Logan had snarled loudly and aggressively before he’d even processed moving to guard his nest from the approaching threat. When Patton had taken multiple careful steps back in shock, Logan finally snapped out of the defensive mindset and realized what had happened. He’d apologized profusely, and was quick to try and make amends.

Patton understood the justified reaction after some light explanation and waved off the apologies immediately. Logan, though mortified at his own surprising lapse in control, was grateful that there had at least been no hard feelings in the end.

Safe to say, their friend group and subsequently any new friends made in the future would be warned, “Don’t approach, or touch, Logan’s nest.” And it was fine. Things were even looking up, Logan had started truly healing, and trusting people started to become a little less difficult!

So it would really come as a surprise to everyone, let alone Logan himself, when he started developing a small crush on the kind and patient(if a little anxious) Alpha who nearly daily visited the library Lo worked at to study. It was an honest shock, but, perhaps it wasn’t the worst thing in the world..?

Logan had never seriously considered dating another until Virgil came around, and the prospect of dating an alpha was frankly terrifying. But, Virgil was nice, he was caring and gentle with him, and yet unwaveringly respectful. He’d listen to Logan ramble about stars for hours and never interrupt him, only asking questions when Logan’s voice lulled or allowed him to speak. Virgil encouraged this, wanting Logan to open up and ramble and talk without fear of being shut down.

Roman had told Logan it was obvious Virgil was crushing hard on Logan, that they both had it bad for one another it seemed. Of course, nothing had to come of it if Logan didn’t want it to! But the thing was, he did. He did want something to come of it, if at the very least they could just remain friends.

It took a few more months, but Virgil eventually worked up enough confidence to ask Logan out, and the unwavering, almost immediate ‘Yes,’ had almost taken Virgil off guard. They wouldn’t share their first kiss for another few weeks, but neither of them minded.

Virgil slowly but surely was given the whole story, and expressed his own quiet outrage in the form of promising to never let that happen again, nor let Logan’s father near him again. It was a protective sentiment that almost scared Logan, but the protectiveness was born out of love and compassion, not selfishness and hate. So he let it slide, and contently tucked himself into Virgil’s warm embrace with a soft “thank you,” and the first very soft but very happy purr that he’d let out in years.

This alpha, he’d find him telling himself a year and a half into their relationship, this alpha was the one that would be allowed into his nest.

It didn’t bother Virgil personally, that he wasn’t allowed into his omega’s nest. No one was allowed near the nest except him, and even then he still got growled at plenty. He was completely aware that Logan had a deep instinctual fear of the destruction of his nest, sewn by the only parent he’d had growing up doing just that out of malice. Logan had made strides in his journey of healing though. The omega was confident in himself, and refused to be pushed aside or spoken over. Logan was highly independent, even during his heats, which made Virgil feel all the more love for him to be let into his omegas life.

Logan wasn’t dependent on him like society demanded he be, and Virgil didn’t mind in the slightest, because he knew Logan. He loved this omega and knew said omega loved him back. That was all that mattered to either of them.

It took another half a year before Logan finally tried breaking down some of his protective walls over his nest. He was tired, so tired of the separation. Having Virgil's scent heavily entwined with objects in his nest wasn’t enough anymore. At two years into their relationship, Logan’s instincts didn't feel the need to growl at Virgil for being near his nest anymore. He wanted Virgil in his nest, and that thought was jarring to realize.

And when he’d brought it up, Virgil had been quick to assure him that he didn’t have to force himself to let Virgil in, that Logan’s safe space was sacred and he never wanted Logan to feel pressured by anything to let him in.

Perhaps Logan kissed him soundly after that, and was reminded just how much he really loved Virgil. Virgil's insistence for Logan's comfort coming first only made him want to pull his alpha into his nest that much more.

But still, he agreed to take it slowly. Every day, Virgil would scoot a little closer to the edge of the nest, would hold Logan’s hand and stroke his hair, even sometimes daring to slowly lean over and kiss him with prior warning.

It took a full week to really prove to Virgil during their progress that they were ready to take this next step, that Logan truly and fully trusted Virgil and wanted him in his nest.

And when it finally happened, they’d made a little date out of the occasion, setting up snacks and candy, ordering take out and lining up a few documentaries to watch on Virgil’s laptop, getting into their nightclothes.

Virgil had been beyond nervous, and Logan understood why. They managed to soothe each other as everything fell into place, and Logan carefully walked Virgil step by step into his nest. With careful movements, they sat down and Virgil let himself be carefully arranged as he was leaned back into the nest. It took a second for Logan to finish tucking things against Virgil and pull a weighted comforter over them before he finally settled himself onto Virgil’s chest.

Despite their original nervousness towards the idea, everything felt right, now. Logan felt so unbelievably safe now that he was tucked into his alpha’s arms within the cocoon of his nest. It was amazing in its own right. And it takes Virgil chuckling lovingly for Logan to notice just how content they both are.

“You’re purring like crazy, L,” he murmurs with a smile, running his fingers up and down Logan’s rumbling back, “If you’re not careful you might fall asleep before we even get through the first documentary.” Logan just grins back, tilting his head to peck Virgil on the cheek.

“I see no downside to that, V, considering I’ll be falling asleep in my alpha’s safe embrace. What more could I ever want?”

Virgil flusters and hides his face in Logan’s hair as the omega laughs, hugging the other closer. Logan eventually does fall asleep in the middle of the second documentary, cuddled close and relaxed.

And really, there was no other place Logan would rather be.

#sanders sides #logan sanders #virgil sanders #analogical #luka writes #trigger warnings may apply #tw abuse mention #tw neglect mention #tw trust issues #tw childhood neglect #tw childhood trauma #hurt/comfort #happy ending #let me know if i need to tag more!#omegaverse au

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marvelmymarvel · 3 years

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Beauty (Part 9)

Jiraiya x Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11

Synopsis: At the age of 14, you begged the 3rd Hokage to let you raise the brand new baby, who just like you lost his parents to the nine-tailed fox. People thought you were crazy, but the strange new man who was training Naruto saw you as something else.

A/n: Jiraiya’s back bitchesss. Also, there are going to be a couple more parts after this. A huge time skip and then the ending.... So like, 2 more parts? Idk the next ones gonna be sad and a spoiler so you may wanna hop off now if you dont know (or haven’t gotten that far in Shippuden) what happens... Thats all :)

Tags: @brithedemonspawn

Your feet carried you faster and faster the closer you got to the Hokage’s office, word of Jiraiya and Naruto’s arrival reaching your ears only minutes ago. You had left Jiraiya bewildered, rejecting his proclamation of love thanks to your own fears. Now, things were different. You wanted him. Needed him. You had to tell him how you felt, but you hoped that it wasn’t too late.

The guards didn’t stand a chance of stopping you and instead chased after you as you climbed the stairs to where you’d find them, heart racing as fast as your feet carried you. Shoving the door open, you skidded to a halt in the hall, head whipping around violently as you searched for them.

“MOM!”

A sigh of relief flowed from your lips as your eyes landed on the boy running to you with open arms. For a second, you could have sworn he was four years old again, but the minute he crashed into you was the moment you realized how much he had grown in such a short amount of time. The ninja who chased you realized that you were no threat and went back to their posts, leaving you and Naruto in the empty hall. Ignoring the extra weight, you picked him up and set him securely on your popped out hip. His grip around you was steel-like and even though he had his face shoved into your neck, you could still hear him rambling about all he had encountered on the journey.

It was sweet to see this side of him, but it was over once he heard the sound of his friends coming down the hall. Pushing from you, Naruto landed on his feet and shoved his hands into his pockets, acting as if he hadn’t clung to you only seconds before. You opened your mouth to tease him although something caught your eye.

White hair.

Your heart seemed to skip a beat as Jiraiya rounded the corner, but the sight of the blonde beside him had your blood boiling. His arm was thrown over her shoulder, laughing and flirting with her as if he hadn’t proclaimed his love for you only weeks prior. Jiraiya caught your eye mid-laugh, immediately shutting his jaw and pulling away from her. Naruto gazed up at you, knowing better than anyone how you were feeling despite the fake look on your face.

“You’re jealous of Grandma Tsunade, arent you?”

You loved Naruto, you really did. But at that moment, as he loudly proclaimed those words... You wanted to kill him. Your jaw dropped in shock as you looked down at the child, completely ignoring the fact that this Tsunade was giggling and that Jiraiya had turned as pale as a ghost.

“Oops?” Naruto muttered out sheepishly, blush crawling up his neck as he averted your angry gaze. “Don’t worry. You can have him” Tsunade called out as she playfully shoved Jiraiya before walking towards the office, leaving the three of you alone in the hall. If looks could kill, you would have killed Naruto 1000 times by now as you gripped his shoulder tightly in your hand.

Crouching down beside him, you took a deep breath before leaning in. “I need to talk to him... Go get some Ramen” your soft whisper made Naruto breathe a sigh of relief as you shoved some money into his hand. Without another word, the blonde went running off to get some food.

Finally...

Rising from your spot on the ground, you turned towards a still stunned Jiraiya. A smirk formed on your lips at the thought of shocking a man like him so much into complete and utter silence. Confidence replaced the embarrassment as you began to walk towards him, now dead set on telling him yourself how you truly felt.

“I-I didn’t know you felt that way-”

“Shut up” you snapped out, silencing him as you threw yourself onto him. Your lips crashed onto his, fingers lacing in his white hair as you kissed him like you’ve been wanting to kiss him for a long time now. It took only a second for him to snap out of it, but he too joined in and kissed you back with more haste and need. “I lied. I love you too” you whispered out as you began to pepper his jaw and cheeks with kisses. A smile formed on his lips as he pulled your body closer into yours, finally...

“Tsunade is no threat... I only have eyes for you. Even when you rejected me” he whispered out shakily as your lips traveled to his neck. Naruto had told him all about your jealousy and how easy it was to rile you up, but now that he’s seen that sad look on your face... Well, he never wants to do that again. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, something you only do when you feel possessive. You didn’t want anyone or anything to take him away.

“I love you. Please tell me you still love me” you pulled your lips from his skin, chest heaving violently as you tried to catch your breath. Everything was intoxicating. His scent, his warmth, his touch, his voice. All of it. You just wanted to drown in him forever. Jiraiya smiled at your pleading eyes and trembling lip, you were so silly to think he didn’t and yet his silence bothered you. He brought his large hand to your face and rested his thumb on the trembling lip, stopping it in its place.

“Your worries are silly... I love you more than you know”

A smile of contentment bloomed on your lips before you once again brought him down onto them. The kiss wasn’t as hungry but it was full of comfort and love, he was going to be your one and only till the end of time.

That's what you thought at least.

#jiraiya imagine #jiraiya x reader #jiraiya imagines #jiraiya fanfiction #Jiraiya #naruto #naruto imagines #naruto imagine #naruto x reader

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closer-stars · 4 years

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Feel It - Seonghwa

Member: Seonghwa Genre: Fluff for the most part, a little bit of angst, a little bit of Drama, just a lot AU: Dance Team Word count: 6k Requested: Nope Content: both of you hate each other but might as well work together because you want to compete with the team. some food. some intense words (are they intense? idk). Note: idk what made me write this but here it is. took me forever to finish this but here it is. not yet edited/proofread cause i’m tired asf, will do so when i wake up.

You joined the dance team when you were a freshman in high school. To be honest, you’ve been dancing for a few years prior and the idea of being in a team didn’t seem like a bad idea. You saw it as an opportunity to learn more about the art that will eventually become your life. The auditions were nerve wracking to say the least, a lot of people around your age were in the room. Some of the auditionees seemed to know each other, immediately hugging or greeting each other with a lot of energy. You didn’t know some of them, maybe by face or name from the dance workshops you’ve been to but not the way they knew each other. You noticed the number of people in the room. It wasn’t a shocker that the team you auditioned for was a well known one, seeing how some of the auditionees looked so starstruck and driven to be accepted. You on the other hand didn’t expect too much, just wanting to be able to do better and be better.

The audition process went by quickly and you’re on the floor with a towel over your head. You were expecting the sweat production to be heavy but did you expect that you were going to make your shirt several shades darker? Not quite. The panel informed every one that those were accepted will be notified a week from now instead of the usual three days. The explanation being the immense number of attendees along with the level of skill.

Fast forward to now, you’ve been part of the team for nearly six years. You could consider the team your family if it weren’t for Park Seonghwa. See, you and Seonghwa entered the team through the audition. Both of you were still so young and so ambitious to be the best that you started on the wrong foot. Now, whenever the team trains, they sometimes have to make sure that both of you were on opposite sides of the room or at least far away that neither of you would fight and cause a scene. It’s come to the point that the team jokes that one isn’t truly part of the team until they’ve witnessed the both of you squabble over the smallest things.

“That’s mine, you asshole!”

“Your name’s not even on it.” Seonghwa reasons as if it were obvious. By now the team knows just how much you loved your hot Cheetos. They also knew how Seonghwa liked hot Cheetos too.

“That’s because it doesn’t take a dumbass to know. It’s fine to admit that there’s nothing in between your ears you know?” You snap back, snatching the bag of chips from him. While you didn’t mind sharing what you had with the team, when it came to him, you’d become territorial. Your arguments with him had reached the HR of the team at one point but the both of you were so stubborn they just gave up.

While you two fought endlessly, both of you were mature enough to put that to the side when it came to training. Both of you standing on opposite ends of the room. The team had eventually learned how to work around it. One of the methods being to make sure neither of you were in the same dance segment unless the entire team had to be on the floor. If both of you had to be in the same segment, they made sure neither of you interacted in it. It was for the best for everyone.

To be honest, you didn’t know much about Seonghwa. Whether or not you wanted to know more before, the arguments have made you want to keep him at an arm’s length, or several arms away if possible. All you knew about him was his name and that he studies in the same university as you. Anything else was out the window for you. Though if anyone told you anything about him, it went in one ear, then out the other.

Every year though, the team enters various competitions in order to improve and to get the name out there. But in order to have the resources to train and perform, the team holds various fundraising events that can vary from concerts, to gigs, to classes. This time, the team was holding various dance classes made by a number of members that were favorites of the general public and dance enthusiasts.

“You want us to make a what?!”

“A dance piece to teach.” Your coach stated. There was no room to argue in his tone. While your coach was warm and friendly for the most part, when he used that tone, everyone knew that arguing was impossible.

“Why do we have to teach together? I can teach a class on my own just fine.” Seonghwa asks. So could you but you doubted saying the same thing was a wise decision. The male had less of a filter than you for the most part.

“Both of you are fan favorites. I’m sure you’re both aware of how many fan pages both of you have.” He starts off with a tired sigh. It was a little late already. Everyone was changing into cleaner clothes and packing up, ready to head home.

“And even if we separate the both of you, your styles do compliment each other. Whether or not you want to admit it, the seniors and your coaches have seen and observed your improvements as individuals.” Your coach adds, his eyes scanning the both of you. You couldn’t deny the fact that you’ve created a bit of a following online. You didn’t really take notice of the numbers but you’ve noticed how often you come across a fan page or a fan online and offline. You weren’t sure with Seonghwa but if what your coach said was right-- which it usually was, then you can just imagine how much of a following he has created as well.

You were more than flattered and relieved to hear that you were improving, that the people you’ve looked up to since you were a child were seeing it, you could be on cloud nine right now. Could be since your nightmare of working with your rival is happening as you speak.

“Coach, are you sure about--” You could barely finish your question when he gives both of you a look. He was always a little terrifying when angry. You didn’t want to push your limits so you closed your mouth.

“Yes, I’m sure of this. If neither of you can fix your differences in time for your dance class, consider yourselves out of the competing pool for the upcoming competition.” He ends the conversation there, slamming the envelope down on the floor. The room had gotten silent from the outburst, the members that were left behind quickly leave the room. No one wanted to see the hell your coach could raise when provoked.

“You have a month before the fundraising classes. Create a forty second piece. The genre’s up to you. ” He finishes the statement before walking out, leaving the both of you unsure of what to do, much less approach the situation.

Your gaze falls onto the open door, before heading to your bag. “We’re talking about this tomorrow, before and after training.” Seonghwa states with a tired sigh. You could barely look at the male and you just hum in response. You hoist your bag up on your shoulder, closing the lights as soon as the male left the studio.

“See you then.”

“Bye.”

The next few days were stressful. Alongside the daily trainings with the team, you had to spend additional time with this ingrate. Though both of you had similar styles, you couldn’t seem to agree on a song to work on. Oftentimes, you needed a third party to make sure neither of you went for the other’s throat. The only people that could deal with your constant bickerings and bring you back to reality were a few other members roughly around your age that knew when to shut the both of you up.

“Seonghwa, you’re not listening. Not everyone’s going to be able to do that texture.”

“That’s the point of taking dance classes. To learn.”

“Seonghwa, you just sound like you want to show off.”

“It sounds more like a you problem.”

“I swear to fucking--”

“Guys.” Hongjoong states and it gets the both of you to shut up. A quiet groan and you put your head back where it should be.

The both of you eventually formed the habit of overstaying in the studio, it went to the point where the guards have to tell you to leave.

Most of the brainstorming and choreographing sessions would have you trying to be realistic with the male while he stubbornly nitpicks at your suggestions. It was one of the reasons why both of you never seemed to get along. You knew your limits and you pushed yourself past those limits at a steady pace, the other knew his limits and yet bursted those limits in ways that didn’t seem possible. While your styles were complimentary, your approach to the art were completely different. It was already a miracle in itself that both of you eventually agreed on one song.

“You’re lacking a hit in that beat.”

“Lower.”

“That’s all you can do?” Hearing these types of words over and over in different ways was getting to you. You already had a few counts in mind to continue from where he will leave off but he wanted you to get his parts right first.

“Seonghwa, this piece isn’t even for the team. It’s for those who are taking our classes, aka those who aren’t part of the team?” You mumble as you push yourself to hit the right beats at the right angles. At the corner of your eye, you can see his ever popular stare. You already knew what he was going to say and you had to tune it out. It took a lot out of you not to snap at him there. “Tone down on the popping, you aren’t Mingi in case you’re going through an identity crisis.” You sigh. “Also, too strong pops don’t match the mood of the song.”

“We’ve trained with this team for how long and that’s all you can do?” He sighs, before showing you once more what his segment was for what was the nth time. If it weren’t for how exhausted you were, you wouldn’t have such a short temper with him. He was starting to get too into the technicalities of the piece, forgetting the emotions conveyed by the song. The two of you go over his part until both of you can barely do any of the steps without your limbs practically flailing about.

“Call it a night, Seonghwa. We still have training tomorrow and it’s apparently going to be core day.” You groan as you finally let yourself crash to the floor to massage your sore legs. You looked up at the devil incarnate only to see that he was still on his feet, going through the choreography weakly.

You shake your head and lean against the wall, opting to let your body rest to prepare for tomorrow’s gruesome schedule and just watch him do his thing. A part of you wanted to suggest another song, that didn’t have both of you moving so close to each other. Another part of you knew that you guys were already too into this piece, to start anew would be a waste of time and energy at this point. It was only when he stumbles over his own two feet that he agrees with you, though begrudgingly.

“Fine, I’ll see you tomorrow.” He groans as he goes through his things, without warning, he changes his shirt in your presence. You managed to look away before you could see anything, waiting until he was finished by the door. You figured from there that was conceited enough to do such in a room that was surrounded with mirrors. Even if you hated his guts, it was already second nature in you to wait for everyone to leave the studio before closing everything for the day. He shuts off the lights and speakers, a mindless thank you slipping from his tired lips.

You don’t notice the thank you.

The dreaded day comes and the entire team groans out from the pain as they try to cheer each other on to the end of the drills. You don’t know how the others exactly felt but you can already feel your muscles burning from the intensity. Your coach and the other senior members would monitor everyone, usually pushing other members who were struggling to push themselves further. It was a blessing they knew what works best for each member to improve. The training session ends with everyone on the floor, too spent to move another inch off the floor. Your chest was rapidly heaving from the amount of energy and strength you had to exert in order to keep up. If your mind didn’t remind you of your choreography with Seonghwa after the training you probably might have fallen asleep in the studio. Not that it was the first time either.

Your coach lets everyone catch their breath first, before he asked the members who were part of the fundraiser for an update.

Shit.

You push yourself up into a sitting position, despite the burn in your muscles. It wasn’t easy trying to get Seonghwa’s attention from across the room. A hard glare his way eventually worked and he staggers towards you. Everyone was softly buzzing with chatters of what to eat after training, what they were looking forward to with these workshops and so on.

“Got a plan?” You ask, referring to the fact the both of you only had his choreography down. You haven’t been able to teach yours because of his next to impossible perfectionism. You didn’t want to disappoint your coach. You wanted to take part in the competition too. He bites his lower lip and shakes his head. “Good, cause I do.”

Your coach doesn’t ask for any explanation. He just asks the both of you to do what you guys have so far. If you did the math, you only had a week to teach Seonghwa your part and another week to clean the entire thing from start to finish. You were scared but you had to push through. So the both of you dance the first half of the piece. To the untrained eye, both of you looked good dancing together: bodies moving in sync, facials were there, and both of you were in the pocket for the most part. To the trained eyes though (or at least, the team’s), they can see and feel the slight hint of awkwardness (and if they squint, the disdain) the both of you had for being so close to each other. It was a surprise nonetheless to have both of you be in such close proximity to each other and look like a team (or at least, trying to look). You try not to notice the worry in some of the members, try not to notice the hawk eyes your coach has on both of you. The both of you break away from each other, once the choreography ends. Much to most of the team’s dismay.

“Is that it?” Your coach asks, still not impressed. “It felt too short, and that was all Seonghwa’s style wasn’t it?” He presses. If either of you fucks up the next move, both of you were done for.

You glance over at Seonghwa for a moment before you answer. “It’s not yet done, Coach. I’m teaching him my part today.” He gestures for you to continue to your part. Seonghwa watches you, taking a few steps back. You only had five seconds leeway to let him know to stay in place. You had no time to explain what your choreography was.

You drop down to his waist, and keep eye contact with him, then bounce back up as you continue to dance. It was needed in pieces after all to maintain eye contact with your partner especially in pieces such as this. It was also what made you gain a loyal following: eye contact with the crowd or any camera that you could spot. Your part amped up the heat for the room. You couldn’t feel Seonghwa’s body dancing near you, but you could feel the amount of eyes on you as you delivered what you’ve been practicing at home. When it came to the parts where you thought of interacting with him in the choreography, you would dance around his figure, or have your fingertips trail lightly across the expanse of his torso. Your part ends with your arms resting on his shoulders, thus finishing the entire piece.

The male was still dazed on his feet, a little too shocked for words at how you went closer to his figure more than possible. He could still feel how your fingers felt against his waist, how you looked on your knees while sporting that flirty smirk that you wear during performances. If he was only more confident in his freestyling, he probably would have danced around you as well.

“Better.” The both of you notice the hint of a grin on your coach’s face. The looks of surprise and flustered cheeks on some of your members, bless the younger members who had to see that. “Seonghwa, take note of how they move. The groove’s there and very much fitting to the song and mood. You don’t have to change much about your part anymore but keep it relaxed and loose. Relax especially when it comes to their part of the choreography but keep the energy constant okay?” He tells him. He then shifts his attention to you and you could’ve sworn you can feel your heart drop in expectation and fear. “Now, your part. I can see your style in it with hints of Seonghwa’s. Keep that. Don’t rush while dancing, there’s a set time and pace in it anyways. Explore also your space. I know you’re a little shorter than Seonghwa here but maximize what you got okay?” He then proceeds to praise both of you for the choreography so far, hoping that both of you would warm up to each other before the day of the workshop cause otherwise it would get too obvious.

“Your piece is something for couples, if you really want to sell this, at least pretend.”

With that, the training for the day ends. The rest of the members were leaving the room, one by one, some of them wishing the both of you luck. Eventually, the two of you were the only ones left and the tension was palpable. You were about to teach your part when his voice breaks through the silence.

“I told you to keep your energy constant. My part was already o--”

“Park Seonghwa, shut the fuck up before I lose it.” You snap at him, your eyes trained on his reflection on the mirror. You were exhausted from the drills, you were high on adrenaline from dancing in front of your coach and the team, you were elated with the praise and constructive criticism, but you were also tired of his perfectionist and degrading ways.

“Why do I have to match your energy and style? Coach already said that the part we did had all of you and almost none of me until we reached my part. Mind you, I tried my best to incorporate your style into it regardless. Do I still have to prove my worth in this team to you, Seonghwa? Cause I’ve done a lot of proving of it when we both entered the team. Had to prove myself to Coach, the senior members and alumni and even to my parents. Yeah okay my parents were initially supportive but we ended up butting heads, did you know that? Or were you too caught up with your own ego to stand out? Fuck’s sake, Seonghwa, we started on this team on the same level. Why do I have to prove myself to you too?” You snap, your phone now causing a loud boom against the floor.

Seonghwa looks at you with raised eyebrows. He was always more controlled when it came to showing emotions in the team, ironic since he was the most expressive on stage. He didn’t understand your struggle until your outburst. He was dumbfounded and guilty to put it simply. He watches you pour out all your hardships and anger at him, something he eventually thinks that he deserves. He didn’t think his heart could break at the sight of you crying but it does. He couldn’t get himself to worry over the phone that you threw to the floor. He wasn’t sure if he should even approach them while they cry their heart out. Truthfully speaking, after that outburst, he didn’t really think that approaching them to comfort them would be a good idea. So he does the next best. “Here.” He mumbles, handing them their towel and water. The male lets her cry out everything she’s been holding on to. How else could he even comfort them when he was the cause of a good portion of their hardships? He waits until their breathing evens out, watching them regain their composure before he speaks up again. “If you can still teach me your part, I’ll cooperate.” his voice was a lot more careful and toned down as compared to the years you’ve worked with him.

You stare at the male through puffy eyes and with a huff, you grab your eye drops to ease the pain of crying earlier. “Let’s go.” You mumble as you set your phone up. “We have an hour until they kick us out again. Double time tomorrow.” You add before, you go through the first few counts. The both of you manage to maximize the remaining hour with the general movement of the choreography all while incorporating both your styles. By the end of it, both of you were sweating bullets. Bodies were pushed to your limits and in need of sustenance.

“You got anything tomorrow?” Seonghwa asks through heavy panting as he wipes away the sweat that still runs down his temple.

“Besides, training, I’m free why?” You ask, downing what was left in your water bottle. You were too tired to even realize that he was once again, shirtless, in front of you.

“I was going to ask if you want to grab something to eat before heading home. Also because I owe you an apology, but we can’t stay too long in this place.” He notes, as the lights were slowly being shut off by the guards.

You glance behind you as you sigh, still too sore to move. “You got a point there. I can barely move too much on an empty stomach anyways so fine.” You mumble as you push yourself up with a groan. He was already up on his feet, casting a sympathetic smile your way as you gather the remaining strength in you to walk to the nearest store that was still open.

Eventually, both of you end up in a tonkatsu restaurant. Both of you were too tired and hungry to talk until the side dishes were served. You eat in silence, focusing first on your rumbling stomachs before any sort of discussion began.

“I’m sorry.” It was him who spoke up first. His utensils by the side after he finished his share. He meets your gaze with guilt in his eyes. “I was wrong for having treated you like that.” He continues. “I don’t have any alibi for what I did. I understand also if you don’t accept my apology.” Before he could continue, your respective meals were served.

“Let’s eat first, Seonghwa. We’re both too hungry and thirsty to deal with anything else properly.” You chide gently, as you gesture for him to eat up first. The both of you then eat in silence, there wasn’t any rush tonight. Neither of you could feel your legs after the entire training, and if you guys finished earlier than expected, there was a convenience store nearby where the both of you could kill time and make amends in.

True enough, both of you end up in the convenience store. It was your turn to start talking. “I don’t know why you did what you did to me, Seonghwa. It’s going to take time for me to forgive you.” You state as you watch people come and go past the convenience store. He does the same, occasionally looking at the yogurt drink in front of him. “I accept your apology still but like what I said, forgiving you will take a while.” You continue. “I respected you, y’know? The first few meetings even if we started on the wrong footing. I thought you were a really cool person and an amazing dancer already. But then, your comments just got too much…” You trail off, he knew where it was going. That’s what led both of you to be where you were now. Even if he admitted that he did what he did because he wanted to see you improve, and because of your potential, it wouldn’t excuse the effect his words had on you. He listens to you closely, sharing what you were comfortable sharing with him. He should’ve known that you worked better under praise.

“After all this, I hope that we work better... until at least our workshop.” You say, your eyes heavy on his figure. You couldn’t help but feel sorry for how guilty he looked, yet you couldn’t get yourself to immediately forgive him.

“Yeah, of course. I promise, I won’t talk shit. I’ll cooperate.”

“I’ll believe it when I see it Seonghwa.”

The remaining weeks went by without a hitch. The rest of the team eventually realizes the lack of bickerings from both of you. Both of you still stay on opposite ends of the room, but the malice isn’t present anymore.

“You think they banged?” Mingi mumbles to Yunho. Only to be met with a whack from Hongjoong. “Mingi, not everyone hate fucks…” The older mumbles with a tired sigh, stealing a handful of pringles from the younger. They glance over at the both of you: though you were on opposite ends of the room, it was obvious that both of you were going through the piece in your heads.

When they look at Seonghwa, they could see how relaxed his movements have become compared to before. He wasn’t as serious as before, and it was clear with his facial expressions. The same thing could go for you, you were cleaner with your executions, even when the both of you weren’t going all out with your movements, the boys could see the huge difference. Your coach definitely was on to something to have both of you become a unit.

The boys decided to stay and give you guys some company, and mostly to make sure none of you were at each other’s throats. They also wanted to see the final piece before anyone else did, especially when you told Mingi and Yunho that the piece was going to be finished by today. Cue, Wooyoung, San and Yeosang bouncing towards the two of you wanting to see it as well. Soon enough the entire crew was there, and Seonghwa had to apologize for his group of friends being too energetic. You didn’t mind it. You told him that it was a good opportunity to gain some opinions and suggestions to other parts if need be.

The finishing pose had both of you on the floor. You were used to Seonghwa’s rather suggestive antics by now and so was he to you. Though, unlike him, you always had a different pose every run so to have you act so bashful yet suggestive in front of your friends was an appreciated mood breaker. If you hadn’t done so, both your friends would’ve said something stupid. Regardless, they said nothing but praises much to your relief and his.

“We’re taking your class, by the way!” Wooyoung pipes up afterwards as you catch your breath. Both you and Seonghwa look at the rest of them.

“Fine but one condition.”

You stare at Seonghwa, unsure of what would come out of his lips.

“You’re going to be each other’s dance partner for this piece.” You glance at everyone’s faces. You knew how extra dancers can be especially if in their comfort zone. The extra goes to the hundreds when it comes to these boys. You were a little terrified but also, their presence in your workshop would help you calm down.

“Hyung, we’re seven though…”

“Six. Jongho already took the role of being in charge of documentation.” He corrects with a grin. You were just looking at the two sides exchanging friendly taunts and challenges. The chaos that ensues as the boys try to pick who they’d do the choreography with was enough to make your stomach hurt.

You had to lie on the floor from all the laughing. You had to wave your hands in defeat for them to tone down the chaos. Your arms struggle to push yourself up, ready to call it a day after the long hours of dancing. The staff then enters the room telling you that you only had five minutes left as there was another group that would be using the studio. The rest of you manage to pack up quickly, cleaning up after yourselves. Odd enough, you couldn’t find your bag and you were sure you never moved it from where you dropped it earlier.

“Looking for this?” Seonghwa calls from over your shoulder, your bag clinging onto his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks.” A relieved sigh slipping from your lips as you reach out for it. He takes a step back though, a mischievous smirk gracing his lips. Has he been moisturizing them? A confused frown appears on your features at his actions. “Give it to me.” You whine, following after him.

“No. You’re tired. Let me carry it while we get dinner.”

“Why are you such a creature of habit?”

“Someone has to be between the two of us.”

As you bicker, the remaining seven were waiting for you outside the studio, hearing the two of you bicker.

“Mingi, you’re buying me a protein shake if they end up together.” San challenged.

“Buy me a new computer if they don’t.”

“Deal.”

The day of your workshop has arrived, and it was the last workshop for the entire fundraising event. Nerves were starting to get jittery and you were a little grateful you opted to buy coffee on the go rather than drink one prior to the workshop. You saw the students lined up outside the studio, all of which you greeted as you searched for your partner. “Where’s Seonghwa?” You whispered to your fellow member who was by the door. She gestures that he’s already inside, making sure the speakers were properly set up. She pushes the door open for you and you’re greeted by his back facing you. Before any thought about it could rise up, he notices your presence, a smile lighting up his face.

“Right on time. We got a workshop to do, partner.” He muses lightly, plugging his phone as he starts to play some music. You set your belongings to the side, throwing a small smile at him. He spots that it doesn’t reach your eyes and he pokes the corners of your lips upwards. “Come on, we’ll do fine. We’ve prepared an entire month for this.” He reassures you. He did have a point and so you flash another smile, a confident one this time.

“Let’s go.”

The past two hours go by without a hitch. The students were having fun, occasionally distracted by Yunho’s contagious laughter. Even you and Seonghwa would laugh at how the class’s energy was overall a good one. The students ask for the both of you to perform the choreography after having done a run themselves. Both of you exchange glances, unspoken questions that eventually were answered with Seonghwa standing up and giving the students what they wanted. An amused snort was your response and you follow his footsteps. Jongho already had his camera out, ready to record the entire run.

“Last run ever. Make it count.”

Even if your hair was already a mess and both of you were glistening with sweat, neither of you held back for this run. It was probably one of your best runs if you had to be honest. Both bodies were moving in sync, even your energies were responding to each other. You held him closer to your body than usual, not minding how close his face was to yours. His touches seemed to have a more suggestive undertone as compared to before. Each interaction you had resulted in squeals from the students, clearly affected by how both of you were dancing.

He wasn’t sure either if he caught you smirking up at him while you were on your knees.

The piece ends with both of you close to each other’s bodies, breaking apart from each other once the song goes back to the start. That was the only time a smile breaks your features. The both of you bow to the students, thanking them for their time and energy to be with the both of you. Some students approach the both to take photos with them to commemorate the event which neither of you could say no to. After all the celebration between the students and the team, the two of you were left in the studio, packing up your things.

“You did well there.” Seonghwa says now that both of you were alone. Your workshop was the last one for the day and everyone else was already out eating dinner to celebrate the success of the fundraiser. You look at him through the mirror as you wipe your sweat. Even if your towel had half your face obscured, the way your eyes lit up and curved into crescents had his heart skipping.

“You didn’t do so bad yourself, either.” You return with ease, hanging the towel over your shoulder as you pick up your bag. Before you could continue, both of your phones buzz with a message. All of a sudden, the two of you burst into jumps and elated yelling.

“Training next week?”

“2PM in the same studio?”

“Yup!”

“Nice!”

Overwhelmed with happiness, they ended up crashing into a hug. This was probably the ninth hug you’ve shared with him this entire day-- not that you counted it or anything. You pull away from him, looking up at his elated face, and him to yours.

“Congratulations. Looks like we’re going to have to suffer for a little longer.” He teases you lightly, hoisting his bag up over his shoulder.

You snort at such statement. “I mean, from the looks of it, I don’t think it’s suffering anymore.” You return, following his footsteps closely as you look over at the now dim studio.

“That’s a good point to raise. More dinners with you, if anything.” He adds as both of you walk to the convenience store where both of you first ate together.

“Seonghwa, just admit that you just want to steal more of my coffee jelly.”

Fast forward to the competition day, all of you gave your everything on that floor where everyone from not only in the venue but also through their computer screens can watch you. You stepped down that stage gasping for air, and if the situation let you, you could’ve just fallen asleep on the floor. The other members hold onto you as everyone made their way backs to their seats: your legs still too exhausted to take another step on their own. Seonghwa right by your side, with a bottle of water for you. His eyes wrought with concern over your near crumpled figure. You definitely had pushed yourself too far the past few days. Regardless of what happens, you were able to give your heart out on that floor with a team that mattered so much to you.

The rest managed to give their best on stage despite the jet lag of traveling from Korea to LA. Some of the members were in their seats, fast asleep to catch up on the lost sleep from the past few days of intensive training. Seonghwa and you were one of those who were slouched over on your seats. You had your head leaning against his shoulder, while his head rested against yours. Both of you didn’t realize that your fingers were loosely interlocked with one another’s.

Your coach tells the members to wake those who were asleep in time for them to announce the results. Neither of you seemed to mind that you were holding each other’s hands when you woke up. The minutes felt like eternity as they slowly announced who took the bronze and the silver. Seonghwa holding onto your hand as tightly as he could as everyone was silently praying that your team would take home the gold.

True enough, the hosts announce your team as the winner for this year’s competition, resulting in everyone jumping and hollering in joy. You drop to your knees, elated to know that your months of sweat, lack of sleep and stress had paid off. Seonghwa was jumping around wildly, pulling you up and into his arms. “We did it! We won!” He exclaims. Without another thought, his lips graze against your temple and that was enough to wake you up.

He notices you stiffen up in his arms. “I-I’m sorry! I got too caught up in my happiness…” He tries to reason, pulling away as he rubs his neck.

“..C-can you do that again?” You ask shyly. He looks at you with wide eyes, unable to believe what he had just heard.

Before either of you could answer, everyone was already pushing each other to go on stage to celebrate with the other winners.

Needless to say, your friends had taken a few photos of that interaction and have sent the both of you the photos of you sleeping against each other, along with that kiss.

#ateez fluff #ateez scenarios #ateez seonghwa #my writings #this got pretty long for my standards oops #anyways did the editing amen

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purplesurveys · 4 years

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1010

survey from diggitydoo

Have you ever felt a baby kick? Yes, when my mom was pregnant with my brother. What color pants/shorts are you wearing? I’m only wearing a duster gown; no shorts underneath. I just got it last night, actually - my mom wanted to donate clothes to victims of a recent fire incident in Manila and so she asked my sister and I to sort through our closets for clothes we were willing to give away. My sister ended up giving away a comfy-looking duster gown that she never even wore and even smelled brand new to boot. It ended up in my hands, ha. But apart from that we gave away a lot of stuff that aren’t old uniforms or costumes (which is what most people tend to ‘donate’, ugh), so we just hope they end up with people who really need them. When is the last time you did something truly fun, and what was it? Last night I went on our org’s Discord server and we played Jackbox games for around an hour or so. It was my first time to socialize again after around two months and I really, really needed that moment. I even met the org’s newest roster of applicants for this semester, which was neat. :) What was the scariest moment of your life? Men terrorizing me or near-car crashes I’ve had.

Have you ever heard of Leonard Cohen? The name is familiar, but that’s the most I know.

Pancakes or flapjacks? I guess pancakes, since I don’t even know what flapjacks are. What kind of computer are you on? It’s a laptop. Do you eat Chinese food? If so, what's your favorite dish? For sure. Pork buns or minced pork with eggplant. With century egg on the side, yum. What are you usually doing at midnight? Either passed out or desperately trying to sleep because I don’t want to lose any more hours of sleep and risk being cranky for the whole of the next day. Have you ever developed feelings for a friend, but you were already with someone? No. The worst thing that’s happened was being someone’s ball date (and unbeknownst to me, they apparently had feelings for me at the time) while I was already with someone. If so, how did it turn out? He figured it out by himself, which I still feel bad about. But the timing was super off and I just couldn’t find a moment to sit him down and set the record straight...ah well. It was just super complicated at the time. Give me your brief definition of love. My favorite love-related quote is “Love never says ‘I have done enough’” and for the longest time, that has been my guiding principle when it comes to it. Definitely a tad bit cheesy, but telling myself that over and over makes it easier to continue loving the people I care for and be patient with them when they’re being asses. Gab included, then and now. What is the most beautiful part of the human body, male or female? It differs for everyone but I’m a thigh girl through and through. What kind of shoes do you wear? Uh...various ones? I have sneakers, flats, heels, flip-flops, probably a couple more kinds that I can’t place at the moment. What is the worst thing you've ever done when you were really angry? Resorting to physical violence. I was a kid constantly exposed to violence in my old home, and at the time I genuinely thought that’s how most things were settled or pacified. I still feel like shit about it to this day, and my backstory isn’t an excuse at all; but the past is the past and I’ve been trying to make up for it by being a much more gentle angry person in the last few years. Are there any pills you take on a daily basis? If so, what? Nope. Do you like the smell of coconuts? For some reason I can’t stand anything coconut (which is a damn shame considering I’m Filipino) but I love dishes with heaps of coconut milk in them, like curry. That’s the one coconut-related thing I enjoy, but otherwise I’ve never learned to appreciate the taste and smell of buko juice, coconut shavings, coconut pies, and everything else coconut. What is the heaviest you think you can lift? From what my old PE class showed me, around 70 to 80 lbs. Do you take Tums? Idk what that is so I guess I don’t. Have you ever walked on a pier at the beach? I’m not sure if I’ve been to a pier before. I bet it feels wonderful and freeing and I’d love to visit one; but I also can’t keep myself from associating piers with the recurring image of Jennifer Connelly’s character standing on one from Requiem for a Dream. How about under one? No. At what age do you first remember feeling butterflies in your stomach around someone? Not sure if it was 11 or 12, but it was definitely one of those years. Do you feel that way around anyone now? Yeah, if they allowed me to see them. But I’m shut out now so I haven’t had that sensation in a while.

Do you ever talk to yourself or think deep thoughts while on the toilet? No. Do you ever sing to yourself? Sure. I’m sure most people do every once in a while. What is a sound that relaxes you? Ocean waves have never failed. How hard has it been to reach your main goal in life? ‘Main goal’ sounds so overwhelming; I make it a point to avoid one overarching goal and instead make little goals and plans here and there depending on where I am in life. Do you remember the song about hoes in different area codes? Never heard of it. What is your main heritage? Filipino. What kind of pickles do you prefer, if you like pickles? I hate pickles. What kind of cheese do you prefer, if you like cheese? Mozzarella and feta are my faves, but I love cheese and am willing to be adventurous when it comes to it. If you could have a sea creature as a pet, what would you want? Eh, they can stay in the sea where they can actually survive. I don’t exactly have the best track record when it comes to keeping fish as pets. How about a farm animal? Probably pig. So, do you have hoes in different area codes? No, and ew. What is the most annoying song you can think of that came out recently? Haven’t been exposed to a lot of new music lately and the songs I do get to hear on the radio whenever I drive are actually pretty good. This totally doesn’t answer your question but my favorites so far have been Birthday by Disclosure, Kehlani, and Syd; and Plain by Benee, Lily Allen, and Flo Milli. What is a song that you hate to admit you like? Any Kanye song I like. What inspires you to get off your bum and do something productive? Not wanting to go into another downward spiral. Do you ever use Urban Dictionary? Extremely rarely. I only do when there’s a new slang I’m completely unfamiliar with. Do you find the definitions on there to be generally funny or stupid? Stupid for the most part. I find them too immature or vulgar, but that’s one of the points of the website so I guess I’m just not in their target audience lol. What comes to your mind when you hear the word 'transformation'? Uh, the Transformer robots.

What was something you regularly played with as a child? My cousins’ toy soldiers.

Have you ever given in to peer pressure? Eh, a few times. If so, what did you do? I’ve been pulled to drinking sessions here and there when I really shouldn’t be drinking because I had an important test tomorrow or something else was happening the next day that was just as significant. What part of your body have you had the most problems with in your life? Teeth, I’m pretty sure. I’ve had braces, needed a tooth extracted, gotten a cavity, and gone through a severe toothache.

Do a lot of people check you out when you're in public? Idk I never look around because being aware of it would just freak me out and make me feel like I’m naked. What is a good name for a turtle? Would depend on their personality. And this applies to all kinds of pets, at least for me. I don’t decide on their names until I have a good grasp of their attitude. Can you imitate any accents well? If so, which one(s)? Stereotypical Filipino mom and valley girl. Do you like having your ear nibbled on? Sure. What makes a good kisser a good kisser? I’ve only kissed one person so I’m not the best judge for this; but I always like it when my lower lip is tugged or grazed on. How many times a year do you have a family thing? This is a little vague for me. Do you mean get-togethers? Giant-ass reunions? Movie nights? Game nights? What are the best things to put in a smoothie? I only like one kind of smoothie and it’s sold by a local joint – and I think I’ve already shared this before but that smoothie of theirs that I like has “apple, banana, cinnamon, oats, coco sugar, chia seeds, greens, and soy milk,” according to their menu. So I guess those are the best ingredients for me, ha. Do you ever eat with your eyes closed and just focus on the taste? When I find something extremely delicious, yeah. What do you dislike most about where you live right now? For the most part I can’t wait to get out of suburban residential villages. I’d love to finally experience living in a condo in a super busy and active city. Has anyone ever given you a rose/roses? Yes.

Are you watching your weight? Not really. I’m trying to gain pounds though, if anything. I haven’t eaten much in the last two months. Have you ever become really good friends with someone you found online? I trust y’all with my life, so that’s one. Apart from Tumblr, the best friends I made were probably the people in the AJ/Punk fandom, back when I had a stan account on Twitter. I don’t remember most of their names now and we fizzled out pretty quickly when both parts of the ship left WWE, but I look back on that period with fondness. Those people made high school a lot easier for me. What makes your best friend your best friend? She doesn’t care whether I’m on top of the world with happiness or completely self-destructive and crying my eyes out; she has always been present. Do you have a drunk uncle? *rolls eyes* We don’t wanna open up that can of worms... Do you hear weird noises in your house at night? Nope. What is something you do that is generally more like something the opposite sex does? Based on personal experience and not to come off as sexist, but it’s liking wrestling. I have never met a girl in real life who has even the most remote interest in pro wrestling or can tell me who Hulk Hogan is. And the ones I’ve had discussions with - from shallow/casual to in-depth - have all been guys. Seeing girls who are into wrestling is like finding a rare Pokemon, at least in real life. What is the girliest thing you do, if you're a girl? Idk. What is the coolest tattoo you've ever seen? Probably the spork tattoo of Josh, a crew member from Good Mythical Morning. It’s just a line tattoo. Of a spork. On his arm. But he managed to make it so goddamn fascinating lmao; and apparently, as I learned just now, it has a pretty touching backstory to it too, which makes it a million times cooler. Have you ever created anything artistic that you're proud of? If so, what? I’ve never finished any of the crafts I bought. Never finished a coloring book page much less an entire coloring book, a painting, a gem painting...it’s something I’ll have to bring my butt to do one of these days. I can’t imagine how fulfilling it would feel. Do you only eat the middle of the oreo, if you eat oreos? I eat the whole thing but I honestly find Oreos too sweet and I’ve always much rather preferred Oreo-flavored stuff instead of the actual cookies.

Do you know anyone with a huge ego? My mom. If so, is there anything else about them you actually like? She’s fed me for 22 years and gave me an education, I guess. Though it’s something I appreciate more so than like. Have you ever used a racial slur, even jokingly? Probably as a dumb kid, when historical context wasn’t a thing to me yet. I still wince thinking about it, but I suppose what matters is being better and more responsible moving forward. Do you have any friends who are more like siblings to you? Angela and to some extent Andi.

If so, what about them do you like most? They are both understanding when it comes to me - almost to a fault. What do you like on your hotdogs, if you eat hotdogs? When you say ‘hotdogs’ here, it refers to the sausages itself. The sandwich kind of hotdog isn’t super popular here. What is everyone else in your house doing right now? My siblings are still resting in their rooms; my dad is preparing for work, I think. What is the most money you've ever had at one time? Something like P10,000 or P15,000 when my mom needed me to pay for something in cash. How long do you think it would take you to run a mile? Idk, maybe 10 minutes. I won’t be fast, that’s for sure. Look down. What do you see? My legs and the pillow I’m sitting on. What is a subject that makes you uncomfortable? Right now, probably my failed relationship. I haven’t gotten to the sharing stage yet and remotely thinking about it gets my voice all shaky. What is a subject you can talk on and on about and not get sick of it? Paramore. What kind of mood were you in most of today? It’s only 7:52 AM. My only mood so far is just woke up. Has anyone ever walked in on you naked? Yeah. Because people in this damn house never knock. Tell me an inside joke you have with someone. The word ‘ariba.’ What is the worst thing someone could do to you emotionally? Break my trust. So simple but it packs a punch. What is the worst thing you've ever done to someone emotionally? Idk if I’ve ever been that aggressive. When I want to do something destructive towards someone I always end up asking what it would feel like if the action was done to me, and it’s always been enough to sway me away from doing the thing. How do you feel now about the first person you ever dated? Sad. How about the last person (your last ex)? Same person. What is the best invention ever invented? Air conditioners.

What is something that needs to be invented? Portable air conditioners. What always makes you burp? My burps come randomly. What are you doing tomorrow? It’s my last weekend before my new job, soooooooo...I’ll be bumming around for my last two days of freedom.

#survey #surveys

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karliahs · 4 years

Note

um for prompts idk anything specific but maybe more midoriya gettin angry over stuff and dealin?? really loved the way u handled it in something else to pretend, would love to see ur take on how he deals with more aggressive/harsher anger? idk tho

content warning for discussions of bullying and brief references to (canon) child abuse

“Why did Kacchan do that?” Izuku asks. It’s one of those shards of memory that lingers far longer than it should, muddying over years and re-rememberings, but never completely fading away.

Izuku can remember the question, his grazed knees, the sun shining on the grass. He can remember his mother helping clean him up, smiling a comforting smile and saying, “I don’t know, sweetie. I think he was angry.”

Izuku isn’t sure if the question that comes next comes from his mother, or if it’s just something he’s thought about so much over the years that it’s gotten tangled up in the memory, an unwitting passenger. “Don’t you get angry, Izuku?” someone asks.

ao3 link / continued below

In hindsight, Izuku is sure the thoughts that come next can’t be part of the memory. His five year old self wouldn’t be capable of this kind of self-analysis. But the thing is, Izuku thinks he knows what anger is. It’s not really that distinct from other kinds of overwhelmed, when the world is too loud, too much, too impatient and needling - and so he cries, because this happens every time a feeling is too large to hold all of it inside him, and ‘wanting not to cry’ is always one of those feelings, so there’s no way out.

Izuku supposes he must have thrown tantrums when he was little. Thrown his toys around, fallen on the floor, screamed. He can’t remember doing any of that.

He’s never felt whatever Kacchan is feeling when he pushes Izuku into the dirt. He tries to imagine it, a feeling bubbling over into bright, harsh action, like Kacchan’s explosions. He can almost get there, but after comes a sweep of shame that pulls him back into himself. Izuku Midoriya, quirkless and strange, who causes enough problems without pushing other children over. Izuku, who can feel the aftermath so much more distinctly than that initial explosion of anger. He can’t think about explosions without thinking about wreckage.

…

“Don’t you ever get mad?” Matsuda asks.

Izuku had been on his way to take shelter in the school library over lunch. He’d been distracted, as he walked, wondering if the doors would be open today - the library is sparse and neglected enough when it’s open, but the school’s staffing levels are such that he frequently turns up at the doors to find the whole place shut up and locked, leaving him to try and think of another place where he might be able to spend the next 45 minutes safe and left alone - so distracted that he hadn’t noticed Matsuda until they almost collided in the hallway.

He was lucky, really, that it was just Matsuda, not one of Kacchan’s true entourage, but a hanger-on who rarely missed an opportunity to take Izuku down a peg. In a class without Izuku there, it wouldn’t be that hard to see Matsuda in Izuku’s place.

But something about Izuku’s distracted expression during his taunts seems to have triggered something else, a kind of disbelieving disgust. “Like, ever?” he asks. “Don’t you ever get tired of like ‘thanks, excuse me, sorry for existing and all, good luck with the test tomorrow guys!’” He says this last past in a high-pitched imitation of Izuku’s voice, and Izuku thinks maybe they’ve returned to familiar ground, but Matsuda is still staring intently at him, seemingly waiting for an answer.

He doesn’t have one to give. Half his mind is still on those library doors, and whether they’ll be open when he gets there. The rest is fuzzed over with panic, leaving him with nothing but his polite, stammering default - which never makes it better, but silence never does either.

“Whatever,” Matsuda says, suddenly growing tired of him and starting off in the other direction. “It’s like you like it this way.”

Izuku takes a shuddering breath and turns the corner. The library doors are closed.

…

Izuku tries, later that day, once he’s safe at home, to get angry on purpose. He sits on his bed and tries to summon it up, like the opposite of meditating, reaching for fury instead of calm. For a few minutes nothing happens at all, except that he gets distracted thinking about other things and has to drag himself back.

He thinks about Kacchan pushing him down, and him never finding out why. He thinks about the look on his mother’s face when she came back from meetings during the dissolution of her marriage, meetings Izuku was kept well away from; he thinks about how hard she tried to be normal, but how her knuckles were white where she gripped her water glass.

Eventually, there’s a kind of hot, prickling feeling over his skin. He feels briefly untethered, out of his own body, and wonders if he really did end up meditating after all. Then comes a wave of nausea, so physical that he feels a prickling in the back of his throat. He remembers having the flu last semester, and the nausea that had flooded through him when he’d tried to walk just to get a glass of water - nausea that felt like a warning, like a plea; stop, whatever you’re doing, stop.

He opens his eyes to find he’s gripping his notebook in his hands, so tight he’s bent the spine, leaving little wrinkles of damage spreading out from where he’d held on. He releases his grip and tries to smooth it over, bend it back into shape, but it only looks sadder for his efforts, care shown far too late to help anything.

…

Always, at the root of anger, we find a desire for change. Izuku grips his highlighter pen, unsure. He doesn’t think this passage has much to do with the essay question he’s been assigned, but something about it peaks his interest anyway.

A person enraged is a person committed to affecting change in the world around them. If we all gave in to those desires at every opportunity, we would have a world of tyranny and chaos. However, the alternative extreme is no better - a world of stasis and apathy, drifting, stagnating. When we tell our children to banish their anger, we tell them to cut away a significant part of their own agency. When we tell this to some children and never to others, we invite a different, more incisive kind of tyranny.

Izuku is torn between a desire to slam the book shut, and the urge to try and pivot his essay in a direction that will let him analyse this. He highlights the words in yellow, realising that when he thinks of change, he doesn’t think of anger. He thinks of All Might, defeating impossible odds, saving dozens of terrified people, and doing it all with a smile on his face. What is that if not agency? Can you really not have one without the other?

…

He supposes what he’s doing is building a case, the way he always does. Trying to capture the sum of his understanding of something, so that when he needs the knowledge it will be there. The crucial, long, stuttering thinking will already be done, and in the heat of the moment he can just act.

That’s Hero Analysis For the Future , and he thinks that’s why he’s holding onto these memories too. Almost every aspect of a hero’s life affects their career in some ways; if anger does too, it makes sense that Izuku needs to work out what he thinks. Don’t you ever get angry, Izuku? Don’t you ever get mad? Always, at the root of anger, we find a desire for change. It’s like you like it this way.

Izuku wishes, for a moment, that feelings were as real and tangible as organs. He wishes he could go for a scan and have someone tell him yep, anger’s right there. It isn’t enlarged or shrivelled. It isn’t inflamed or sickening. It isn’t poisoning everything around it.

…

He asks his friends, now that he has friends, specifically targeting those who are more on an even keel - he already knows he can’t relate to big, obvious anger.

“Sure, Deku,” Uraraka answers. “Everyone gets angry.”

“What does it feel like, when you are?”

“Are you gonna take notes?” she teases, but then she’s concentrating, tapping her fingers together, trying to figure out how best to describe it. Izuku still isn’t used to this; if you’d asked him to predict what Uraraka would give him, even though he thinks the world of her, he assumed he’d get a quick, uninterested comment at most. Either his UA friends are so much better than most people, or his calibrations for what friendship is are all off; Izuku suspects it’s a little of both.

“I guess I have two types of anger?” Uraraka muses. “Like, there’s…determined anger? Like at the sports festival, I just got really fired up and wanted to win so bad!” She makes a fist, as if to demonstrate, and man, Izuku likes her so much.

She lets her hands drop. “Then there’s the kind that’s less fun. Like…when your heater is broken and you’re mad that it’s broken, and that you’re cold and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

“Your heater isn’t really broken, right?” Izuku asks. “It’s been getting really cold out!”

Uraraka gives him a warm smile. “No, Deku. It’s fine.” He stares at her smile for a second too long, trying to grasp the idea of Uraraka being really, truly angry. He thinks it’s like how no one can really know that they’re seeing the same colours everyone else sees. For all he knows, they’re feeling totally different things and giving them the same name; he can’t imagine Uraraka feeling anything in the disjointed, sickly way that rage finds him.

…

Ashido is his next target, and she laughs before realising he’s serious. “Anger feels like anger, you know?” she says idly. “Like…” She holds up her hands in a claw-like gesture, and makes a kind of ‘rrargh’ noise.

Izuku must look slightly disappointed, because Ashido sighs and throws up her hands. “I don’t know, man! I don’t like to think about it. Everything is stupid when you’re angry, and I’m always there, so it’s like I’m stupid. The stupidest thing in all the stupid.”

She looks down at her shoes as she talks, and it’s so unlike the Ashido he knows that Izuku wants to apologise for having asked. Before he can, she lightly punches his shoulder, giving him a smaller, more subdued version of her usual bright smile. “You don’t always gotta dwell on stuff, you know?” she says. “No one’s gonna give you points for it. Chin up! Plus ultra!”

She skips away, and Izuku feels like he understands her both more and less than he did five minutes ago.

…

He doesn’t actually plan to ask Todoroki, but he’s in Todoroki’s room taking back his notes for English class when he finds himself doing it anyway.

“You…get angry sometimes, right?”

Todoroki blinks at him. Slowly, deliberately, he lifts his left hand, cupped in a way that makes Izuku anticipate flame, makes him aware of the ghost of it among his fingers.

“Yes,” Todoroki says simply.

“Yeah,” Izuku says, wanting to smile to soften things but not wanting Todoroki to think he’d been making fun of him. “I’ve been asking a lot of people. People in our class, I mean.” He fidgets with his hands for a second. “I think I’m doing it wrong? I don’t know if I have too much anger or too little, but…I don’t know. I think there’s something wrong with me.”

Todoroki waits patiently while he speaks, all his attention fixed on Izuku. Izuku thinks that’s one of the reasons he likes Todoroki; even for all of his ambition, he gives off this impression of patience that makes it feel okay to talk, to talk imperfectly and at length, now that he’s past Todoroki’s initial barriers. The other ambitious people Izuku knows, himself included, aren’t like that - he’s dogged, determined, but not patient. It comes from starting so far behind everyone else, making it feel as though no movement is ever really fast enough.

Todoroki thinks for a long moment before replying. “It can’t be worse than what’s wrong with me.”

Izuku gives him a small smile. Kind things hover in the back of his mind, wanting to offer reassurance, but he knows from experience that when you offer some glimpse of how you feel about yourself, sometimes the best thing to receive back is just space and acknowledgement, instead of attempts to convince you otherwise that mostly just make you regret speaking up in the first place.

Izuku knows he’s so behind with this, too; having friends, talking to people, trying to give them reasons to be glad that they talked to him. But maybe Todoroki would understand that, out of all of his friends - maybe they can muddle through together.

“I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately,” Todoroki offers, and Izuku thinks maybe he made the right choice after all. “I used to want to never be angry, so that I’d never act like my father. Now I think if I don’t get used to it, get control of it, I’m more likely to make the same mistakes he did.”

Todoroki flexes his left hand, frowning.

“You’ve come so far, you know?” Izuku says, before he can stop himself.

Todoroki meets his eyes. He’s familiar and strange all at once. Even now that they’ve spent more time together, Izuku can so rarely predict what Todoroki will say or do, just that he likes him, likes the strange angles of him, likes that for some reason he chose Izuku as the subject of his honesty.

“It doesn’t feel like it,” Todoroki says, but there’s a softness there, like gratitude.

“I don’t know if it ever does,” Izuku answers, thinking of all the times this year he’s been told that he’s making progress, and how sometimes he’s still convinced that he’s exactly the same on the inside; the same friendless nothing who spent his lunch breaks cowering in the library. “I just feel so guilty for being mad,” he says. “Even if I just sit with it and don’t do anything, it feels so…dangerous.”

The notes in his hands bring him back to that day in his room, trying to be angry on purpose. “One time I messed up one of my notebooks when I was angry, and even though it’s just paper, I felt so bad…I can’t think about anger without thinking about damage, you know?”

He looks up from the notes, from his own scarred hands, to find Todoroki watching him with a new intensity in his eyes. Immediately he wishes he hadn’t spoken, because of course Todoroki knows more about damage than he ever will. “I’m sorry-” he starts, but Todoroki shakes his head.

“I didn’t know anyone else thought about this the way I do. Especially you.”

Their eyes meet again and Izuku finds himself smiling, just from having spoken and been understood - it was still wonderful and new, every time, each moment where he realises he really does have friends. “Maybe there’s a class we can take?” he jokes.

“I think that’s just therapy,” Todoroki says, sounding thoughtful and disappointed in equal measure. “Tell me why you think you’re doing it wrong?”

Izuku gently sets the notes back on Todoroki’s desk, realising with another little leap of joy that he won’t be leaving for a while yet. He takes a seat and starts to talk about being five years old, about the time Kacchan pushed him over and the only explanation anyone could offer was anger.

#bnha fic #asks #itsa-mi #izuku midoriya #thank you for the prompt!!

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simple-skarsgard · 5 years

Text

A Thief Or A Hero

Mickey has always been a client of your boyfriends.

Pairing: Mickey x Reader

He sauntered into your apartment like he always did, charges and ready to buy. His long legs happily carrying him around the room he made look that much smaller with his towering height. He’d stop every now and then to peek at new decor you’d set up along the walls. Decor that never really lasted due to-

“Hey what’s up doll,” Mickey plopped down on the couch not so far from you. You scanned over his denim jean jacket to his jeans to his boots the way he fidgeted with his tattooed fingers drumming on his kneecap.

“Hey Mickey,” you took a drag of the cigarette between your fingers. “What’d you come for this time?”

“Just the usual,” he shrugged and rubbed at his button nose with the back of his hand.

Mickey caught your eyes looking him over and took his turn to scan you. You wore a tank top (notably no bra underneath) with some black mini shorts which he was sure he’d be able to see your lower butt cheek if you had readjusted from having your knees bent up onto the couch, tucked under your bum.

Mickey always found you quite breathtaking, even flirted now and then. But there had been multiple occasions where he’d gotten a punch to the jaw for ogling you. But Mickey was also persistent, hardly learned his lesson the first time around. Not to mention, he never really saw you smile when your boyfriend was around, but the second Douchebag was out the room to leave you and himself alone, you visibly relaxed.

“You okay?”

“Huh,” he shook his head out of his train of thought,”yeah, yeah, yeah I’m good. I’m good.”

The smallest hint of a smile played at your lips as you shook your head, leaning back to take another drag and blow the smoke into the air.

Mickey folded his lips and sighed through his nose still watching your moves. Usually he was able to make conversation a lot better but lately it was becoming more difficult. Just the nerves of even seeing you were making it hard to function.

In the midst of watching you he noticed something on your cheek. He leaned close and pointed to it with squinted eyes. “What’s that?”

“What?” You tried to hide the panic you felt, knowing exactly what he was asking about but not wanting him to know.

“That,” he pressed his pointer finger to your cheek and caught the wince you gave before you smacked his hand away.

“It’s nothing,” you readjusted to hide the bruise on your cheek with a frustrated attempt at tugging at your hair to cover the mark.

“No, it’s not,” he frowned,”your douchebag boyfriend is fucking beating you, isn’t he??”

Mickey could feel himself getting angry. The thought of someone laying a hand on you, or any woman for that fact, made his blood boil. Mickey may have been a thief and a junkie but he was no abuser. He never brought harm on anyone and much less to someone he cared about. How were assholes like him beating their supposed loved ones?

How could you look at someone you cherished and just strike them without feeling any guilt ?

“Its not that bad,” you said with your voice hardly above a whisper.

“Not that- are you fucking kidding me ?” He hadn’t noticed just how loudly he was beginning to raise his voice. His only focus was finding your douche bag boyfriend and beating his face in. He wouldn’t stand by and just let it happen.

As if the man on his mind had heard his thoughts, he walked into the room with his arms containing the order Mickey had placed. “Alright so we got 10-“

He never had the chance to finish his listing before Mickey was at his full height with his knuckles buried into the man’a nose.

He fell over backwards, the contents spilling across the floor and a loud groan muffled as his hands shot to his now bleeding nose. “What the fuck?! You broke my-“

Mickey cut him off with the clicking off of the safety on his black revolver. He glared at the sorry excuse of a man at his feet as he scrambled back with his blood covered hands held up in self defense. “Woah, woah, woah, woah! What-what the fuck, man?!”

“Shut the fuck up,” Mickey spoke through gritted teeth,”You think I won’t fucking shoot you?”

His whimpers only quieting down when Mickey presses the barrel of the gun under his jaw.

“I’m going to take all this stuff and you are not gonna say shit!” He pressed harder,”you fucking understand?!”

He nodded vigorously,letting out a sigh of relief when Mickey backed away and looked at you. You were almost frozen still in your shock. You only blinked at him not knowing how this was supposed to fix any of the situation you’d been in.

“You’re coming with me,” Mickey said in a matter of fact tone.

“What makes you think-“

“Because if you don’t, you’re gonna keep being stuck with him,” Mickey gestured at your soon to be ex boyfriend on the floor who was giving you a menacing look. “And I don’t think you want that.”

His statement was enough to have you contemplating before you realized you truly weren’t happy to begin with. What was the reason of your stay if all you did was get hurt and beat and treated like a rug. So it didn’t take long after all to come to your decision. You flicked the cigarette remains on the floor and scurried to your room where you packed all you could before running out to find the two men still as you’d left them.

“Ready.”

Mickey gestured for you to run out before he followed right behind, all the contents he was originally coming for stuffed in the pockets of his denim jeans. Whatever he could fit anyways. Waste not, want not.

You climbed into his car and blinked as he drove off. What had overcome you you weren’t sure. How could you trust him anymore than your now ex boyfriend that you just left behind? How could you be sure his intentions were pure??

Mickey sensed you staring at him but his eyes remained glued to the road. For some time he said nothing, feeling just as unsure as you. What drove him to bring you? Why did he step in and play the hero ?? He was no good guy. Not lawfully. A thief, a trespasser and drug addict at that. All this you knew. .

So which was he? A thief? Or a hero?

A/n: this was more to help me get back into the gist of writing and hopefully updating more frequently again. Idk. If this flops, i may just delete this blog. Feedback and comments are appreciated. Hope you enjoyed :)

#bill skarsgard #bill x reader #mickey #villlIains #mickey x reader #bill imagine #bill skarsgard imagine #mickey imagine

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fandomn00blr · 4 years

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I tagged a bunch of folks in on my last WIP post, and I don’t want to harass anyone two days in a row, but seriously, and I know I say it every time, because I really do mean it...WHOEVER WANTS TO THROW SOMETHING TO THE VOID TODAY (or any day...) SHOULD DO SO AND TAG ME AND I WILL LAUGH AND/OR CRY AND/OR BLUSH IN EMBARRASSMENT WITH YOU!

Seeing all this excellent fenders content showing up on my dash recently (IDK what I did to make this happen, but well done, tumblrverse) put me in a MOOD to go back and find some glowey smut from the discard pile...which then apparently turned into fluffy angst (or angsty fluff?) and hand-holding (if you squint...it’s there at the end, I swear).

This one doesn’t really fit into any of my current WIP world states (I mean, I definitely straight up stole some of this from my earlier self for later fenhanders relationship dynamics), and it’s from back when I was clearly still getting to know these characters (still am, tbh), so we’ll go ahead and yeet it into the Void this week, where it belongs:

(Under a cut, cuz it’s 1900+ words long, a whole ficlet, I guess, and there are mentions of the amazing sex these two apparently just had...before Anders had to go and make it awkward...)

“You -- Fenris…” Anders gasps, when Fenris finally pulls away from the kiss long enough to give him a chance to breathe. “I haven’t had sex like that since…”

Fenris’ eyebrows furrow together and he abruptly lets go of him. The last thing he wants is to be compared to any of his past lovers.

“Well, since Hawke and Isabela paid for that night for me at the Blooming Rose for my birthday a few years ago!”

Judging by his frown, this is definitely not the kind of thing Fenris was looking to hear from him.

Anders remembers now, through the idiotic haze of his post-coital bliss, that Fenris had been extra broody then, apparently perturbed that he, or, more specifically, Justice, would want to go through with what the two women had arranged for him, and also probably a little bit annoyed that he wouldn’t shut up about it afterwards. Granted, this was back before he would have ever admitted he had any feelings for the mage. And there is a distinct possibility that Anders had been trying to make him jealous, to provoke him, something Justice seems to want to remind him of now...

“I...remind you of a prostitute?” Fenris doesn’t sound angry or offended. He just sounds sad, a bit disappointed.

“No!” Anders shakes his head, trying to catch his breath and take it back. Not that that should be a bad thing, he wants to say. Fenris knows about his past work in Denerim. Knows how he feels about sex work in general. But he also understands why this association might be a problem for Fenris, sees the hurt there, and has no idea why he decided to bring it up now. “Not at all!”

How does he always manage to mess everything up with him so quickly? He used to be quite good at making charming conversation after sex, priding himself on making sure that everyone had said their piece, that needs and expectations had all been met. And his bedside manner as a healer is highly-regarded by everyone here in Kirkwall.

But Fenris isn’t exactly a client or his patient at the moment. And he supposes he hasn’t had much practice at this sort of thing for a very long time.

“Because it’s you. And no one is being paid…and shit!” He feels Justice trying to take control to save him from his clumsy rambling, but what does the spirit know about pillow talk?

Fenris has somehow already gotten dressed and now he’s reaching for his sword, propped up carefully by the moth-eaten curtain Anders deemed adequate for granting them privacy in the little cubbyhole he calls his “bedroom” carved into the back of his clinic.

“And Justice approves!” Anders declares, growing desperate in his attempts to try and salvage this. “Of this. Of us. Of you!”

Fenris turns back and shoots him the darkest look he’s given him yet through this exchange. “Do not use the spirit’s feelings to try and spare mine.”

Anders is trying. He truly is. But this isn’t fair, because Fenris has just fucked him senseless, and all he really wants is to curl up next to him and fall asleep. It would be good sleep, too. The kind he hasn’t had in...he can’t really remember, doesn’t really want to. And anyway, it’s looking less and less like that’s going to happen now.

“What does that even mean?” he asks, waving his arms frantically in the air.

“Ask him.”

“You know I can’t! Unless you want me to let him take over?” Anders offers, half-seriously at first, but then he gets a curious look in his eyes. “Is that what you want? Because I totally can...” His eyes begin to glow a little, and light begins to shine through cracks in his skin.

Without even acknowledging this, Fenris ducks under the curtain, and begins making his way through the clinic toward the exit.

“Wait!” Anders calls after him, banishing Justice back to his subconscience for now.

But Fenris marches on, with Anders trailing behind him all the way through Darktown. It’s a wonder that he just can’t seem to catch up. He’s nearly a foot taller than the elf, after all, though Anders is perpetually out of shape due to his own self-neglect, and Fenris is...decidedly not that. But as far as he can tell, Fenris isn’t using any of his lyrium-enhanced abilities to completely lose him, though he certainly could if he really wanted to. Which is actually a little bit encouraging.

As they enter Lowtown, he slows down just enough that Anders is able to reach out to him. There was a time when he would’ve feared the consequences of grabbing the standoffish elf’s arm to try and get his attention. Part of him still does, he supposes, but not enough to risk losing him like this again tonight without at least trying to make things right.

As soon as he touches him, Fenris whips his head around and glares at him. “I am going home.”

“Fine. You can do that. I just…” He wheezes, leaning forward, trying to catch his breath. He truly is out of shape. “Can I apologize?”

“For what?”

“For being an idiot?” he huffs.

“You have never apologized for that before.”

Anders is so relieved to see the little smirk on his face that he could kiss him. But he doesn’t. Because he’s already pressing his luck with him further than he’s ever dared to before and he’s determined not to fuck it all the way up if he can help it.

“For...for...all the wrong things I said in my...compromised state back there.”

“Compromised?”

“Fenris, please just work with me here?”

His eyes narrow on him, but he is silent for what feels like an eternity to Anders. He takes a deep breath, opens his mouth, and mutters, “You have nothing to apologize for.” He looks down into the empty space between them. “I should not have assumed this was anything more than sex.”

Anders shakes his head. “No. You’re wrong. It is! And you know that.”

“But you…”

“You do know that, right?”

“I...”

“For three years I’d like to think that we’ve been building something more than just...well, whatever that was the first time this almost happened.”

He is pacing now, and Fenris is watching his hands as they move wildly back and forth with him, mesmerizing physical manifestations of the mage’s fretting over him and his feelings. His body language says more to Fenris than whatever words he is muttering as he frantically stumbles through another unnecessary apology.

“Fenris!” he snaps, drawing his attention sharply away from his hands. “Do you even remember that? You knew I wanted you back then. But not if you were going to regret it. If it was just about the sex…”

“I suppose you have proven yourself to be more than just a depraved abomination,” he drawls, with more than just a hint of that irresistible smirk. Justice seems even more pleased than Anders to see it this time. “But I am still going home tonight. To a real bed.”

Anders grabs his arm again as he turns to leave, and Fenris’ markings flare up bright and blinding this time, the sudden burst of activated lyrium burnishing itself into all six of Anders’ senses.

He knows he’s pushed him too far. But if Anders is going to die tonight, after what has just happened between them, well...he supposes it’s better than if he had died yesterday. And Justice seems to agree, because he doesn’t even try to take control in order to save him.

Instead of ripping his heart out through his chest as Anders braces himself for the inevitable, Fenris reaches up, gathering the mage’s collar in his hands, and yanks him down into a kiss.

Maybe Anders is dead. He certainly can’t breathe, but it doesn’t seem to be bothering him at the moment. Between the lyrium and the kiss and his body still humming from all the dopamine he’s been inundated with in the past couple of hours...

Fenris releases him with a quiet sigh and just stares at him as his markings recede. He’s expecting something. Words, perhaps? But Anders hasn’t been doing very well with those tonight.

He swallows hard, and tries anyway, because he can feel Justice growing impatient with his inaction. “You were…” he hesitates.

“Going home.” Fenris nods.

“To the mansion?”

“Yes.”

“Fine…” Anders rocks back onto his heels trying not to look completely dejected. “Yeah, fine…okay.”

Fenris rolls his eyes and inhales sharply through his nose. “Would you like to join me?” he offers on the exhale.

Anders looks stunned for a moment as he simply stares back at him. Then slowly, a dopey grin begins to spread across his face. “Are you sure?” Anders beams down at him. He honestly can’t help but show every emotion clear as day across his entire countenance and to Fenris, it’s one of the most embarrassing and endearing things about him.

“Hmmm…” Fenris starts to turn away from him again before his own smile can reveal itself. He certainly wouldn’t want to encourage this behavior.

“Okay!” Anders cries out, tightening the hand he’s forgotten is still wrapped around Fenris’ arm. When Fenris doesn’t even flinch, he thinks for sure he’s either dead or dreaming. “Okay...yes! Yes I would very much like to join you.”

Fenris shrugs him off without another word, and is already marching toward Hightown before the mage can say anything else to make him reconsider the invitation.

It’s not that he doesn’t trust him. Anders is terrible at hiding his intentions, his feelings, anything from him, really, and he supposes, after what he’s said to him tonight, that this is no accident. He trusts Fenris, as well, foolish as it seems for either of them.

But Fenris knows that once this happens, once Anders embeds himself into his home -- which, up to this point, hasn’t felt much like a home at all, and that has been on purpose, too -- more than all the tension between them the past three years, more than the half-drunken moments stolen from each other in dark corners of the Hanged Man, or in the alley behind it, or in the back of the clinic, where he could still tell himself it was just a phase or meaningless beyond the relief of pent-up frustration it afforded both of them, there can be no turning back. No more pretending he isn’t completely smitten with the ridiculous mage once he’s taken him into his own bed and let down his guard enough to actually just...sleep with him.

At some point, he reaches behind him with a small huff, a puff of gently glowing white in the unseasonal coolness of the night betraying his feelings. He grabs Anders’ hand, pulling him along with him, and Anders feels like he’s practically floating on that little cloud the rest of the way to Hightown.

#dragon age #throwaway thursday #anders #fenris #fenders #anders is love-drunk #not like in a magical love potion/sex pollen way #just in the 'this was better than I thought it could be and I've been thinking about it for a very long time' kinda way #anyway...#long post

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the-lupine-sojourner · 4 years

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A Merman and a Teacher [Request 1] [Merman!Kirishima/Takara] [No Quirk AU]

Hello my friends! No this story isn’t dead lol. In honor of MerMay, I guess, here’s another chapter of this story!

This was requested by @kitteylove who is super super sweet and patient. They requested this a while ago and I just now got around to finishing it. Sorry my friend! Anyway, I hope you like it!

One thing I need to mention is this entire story is basically a spin-off of @thetrashywritingwitch‘s AMAZING story, Tedium in Blue (here’s a link to the story on AO3). In their story, they kept the reader gender neutral, so while I used female pronouns accidentally in the first chapter when I mentioned the reader from Tedium in Blue, I will use they/them and Y/N as their name from now on.

Alrighty! Here’s Chapter 1 Link and Chapter 2 Link! Now, let’s get on to the story! I kinda feel like this went everywhere, but I’m getting tired and I wanted to get this up before I go to bed, so...please accept this. I might go back and edit later. Idk.

Ok for real, hope you all enjoy!

God Bless and Good Day!

~The Lupine Sojourner

It had been several months since I’d started meeting with Kirishima, whose first name I had yet to find out.

In that time, we’d grown very close, but Kirishima told me with his limited English that first names were very personal and intimate for merfolk.

Their first name was rarely shared with anyone until such time as the merperson in question chose a mate or had grown to trust another person so completely that they felt safe revealing their first name.

I had no right to ask him his first name, and still felt lucky he trusted me with his last name at all and kept risking discovery to see me every day (with a few breaks that he always told me about).

He was getting so good with English, we could almost hold normal conversations, but it was still limited to smaller words and we had to stop to let Kirishima figure out how to say a word in English sometimes.

“You’re good at words.” I praise when we were starting to wrap up our little meeting for the day.

“Kara stay please?” He asks in reply, looking suddenly sheepish.

‘Please’ and ‘thank you’ had been some of the first words I’d taught him after our first meeting, when I’d gotten dunked and Kirishima stole a kiss on the cheek.

I raise a brow. “Um...why?” I ask. He’d gotten so good about my leaving, trusting me to always come back the next day, I wondered if he was regressing for some reason.

“Meet friend.”

I frown. “What friend?” I ask.

“Friend.” He repeats.

I know he might not have the words to explain further so I try to help him. “Are they...like you?”

Kirishima nods eagerly. “Meet at dark on wood!” He chirps.

It takes a few moments for me to interpret what he’d said. “...You want me to meet your friend when sun down?” I ask. ‘Sun down’ or ‘dark’ was how Kirishima said night. Of course, living underwater, merfolk probably didn’t have the same concepts of night and day or even likely the passage of time. It was probably a miracle he was always here at roughly the same time. “What you mean ‘wood’?”

“Big wood human use.” Kirishima says slowly, pointing down the beach. I look where he’s pointing and see the very edge of the pier.

“That’s called a pier.” I explain. “That’s where you want me to meet your friend?”

Kirishima nods. I nod back.

Okay, so he wants me to meet some friend of his tonight at the pier.

Wait...hold on...that was where I saw that human (I think, anyway. For all I know they could have been a pixie. Who’s to say pixies aren’t real if mermen are?) and that blonde merman!

...Is the blonde merman Kirishima’s friend he wants me to meet?

There was something bugging me about this sudden desire of Kirishima’s to introduce me to his friend; why? Why now? I’d barely gotten him to admit there was a secret city of merfolk somewhere deep and far away in the sea. To repay his trust, I hadn’t asked any more questions about the city.

I wondered if there was a different friend he wanted me to meet, other than the blonde merman. Some merperson from this hidden city. Doubt it. He’d mentioned that no one leaves, and certainly never reveals themselves to humans.

That raises several questions about both my uncle’s encounter with a merman and the blonde merman meeting with that individual on the pier.

I push my questions aside for now, the curiosity about the friend proving too much to ignore. “Sure. I’ll meet you and your friend at the pier when sun down.” I promise, grabbing my phone and my water bottle before settling my goggles over my eyes. “Will we swim?” I ask just before heading out so I know if I can shower or not.

“No swim. Sit on p-peeer. We come see you.” He replies, stumbling over the new word.

I nod and let him swim closer as I got closer to the exit of our little alcove.

As is tradition, even after these few months, Kirishima offers his cheek and I give it a quick kiss. “See you later!” I call, another usual goodbye between us. I then dive and swim for the shore to get food, shower, and prepare myself to meet this friend of Kirishima’s.

I felt...oddly nervous. I knew this friend likely meant a lot to Kirishima and I suppose I just wanted to make a good impression. But then again...why? Why was I so concerned?

Maybe because Kirishima was trusting me with meeting his friend. Kirishima had been such a fascinating part of my life, I forget there’s so much I still don’t know about this merman.

He loved spicy food (but only some spicy food) and meat, playing with the phonetics app, and scratches behind the ear (in place of kisses) when he managed to learn a new word. He was always happy, playful, and a bit coy with me.

But I still didn’t know if he had siblings, how he got on with his parents, and really anything about his life. And merfolk culture, as well.

I knew that there was a lot to it and most of it I couldn’t understand if I tried, but there was a part of me that wanted to learn. That wanted to grasp just who Kirishima is.

Shaking myself, I finally stepped out of the shower, drying off and applying my few hair products quickly.

Then I pad barefooted out to my fridge and grab a few eggs, frying them quickly. I had to eat fast. It was already sundown and I didn’t want to keep Kirishima and his friend waiting.

Once I am done eating, I grab my phone and a light jacket. It got a little chilly at night.

Feeling my nerves returning as I walked closer to the pier, I find no obvious signs of merfolk about, so I go toward the end.

That’s then I hear a splash I somehow know wasn’t just a wave or a fish. I search the water and, again, find no signs of merfolk.

Sighing, I sit on the edge with my feet dangling toward the water, eyes and ears alert to any sign that the merfolk had arrived.

There was nothing yet.

Then, maybe a minute or two after I had sat down, I feel a sharp tug on my feet, nearly pulling me into the water.

Letting out a cry of surprise, I manage to keep from falling into the water, sitting back down with my now wet feet tucked under me.

I gaze down to see two ruby red eyes glaring at me from behind a rock, blonde hair swirling around the angry face I saw in the water.

I knew it! The blonde merman was the friend Kirishima wanted me to meet!

“He-hello.” I stammer, waving, unsure why I was feeling shy.

The blonde merman continues to glare at me from the water, then I hear a familiar voice.

“Kara came!” I look a little further out to sea to find Kirishima waving from the water, coming closer every second. Realizing he was about to come up to the pier, I hastily scoot aside to make room. He flops up to the pier, letting his tail flop in the water absently as his elbows took his weight and his chin went into his hands. “Bring friend.” He notes happily, gesturing vaguely to the angry blonde merman who thought he was hiding.

I chuckle. “Yes, but he no like Kara.” I reply. Kirishima rolls his eyes.

“He shy. That all. He meet other human here. You no other human.”

I blink. So it was a human. No pixies, after all. Interesting. “Right.” I say slowly. “Um…” I lean back over to look at the blonde merman who’s still glaring at me. I slowly wave at him. “Hi there! I’m a- -hey!” I got a face full of seawater for my troubles. The merman spat a mouthful of seawater at my face! Wiping it on my jacket, I glare back at the blonde merman, waving a finger at him. “Don’t be rude! I was saying ‘hi’!” I bark.

“I don’t like you!” The blonde merman snaps back.

I was taken aback that he knew any English at all, and I nearly overbalanced in shock that it was actually him that had spoken. I knew there was no one else around and that Kirishima would never speak to me like that ever, but it was so insane to me that this merman knew English.

Then his words truly processed and I glare at him. “Well, that’s just rude. I didn’t do anything to you.” I explain, crossing my arms.

“Wants his friend.” Kirishima stage-whispers in my ear. I laugh, but then the blonde merman grabs Kirishima’s powerful tail, and hauls him down into the water.

Squeaking in shock, I look over and see them wrestling beneath the surface, the blonde one seeming to barely be winning when Kirishima suddenly thrusts the blonde merman off of him, talking to his friend and gesturing angrily before coming back up and I have to move quickly aside again as he flops back up to the pier.

“You make Kirishima be stupid.” The blonde guy snaps at me, coming back closer to the pier and glaring at me again from the water.

“No, Kara not make me stupid!” Kirishima protests angrily The friend beckons to Kirishima gruffly and Kirishima pats my leg as if to say ‘sorry about him. Be right back!’ before diving back down.

The pair hold what looks like an argument before Kirishima seems to say something that shuts the friend up. Kirishima lets his words sink in a moment before coming back up. He was chittering, whistling, and hissing in his own language, which meant he was upset. He rarely got upset with me, but it had happened. Mainly when I tried to push him learning a more complex word before I stopped trying.

Kirishima was about to speak when the friend cuts over him, a webbed finger pointing at me. “Don’t tell humans about us or else.” He growls.

I cross my arms and roll my eyes at him.

While it was still shocking he knew so much English, I was also annoyed he was being so rude. He seemed different when I’d first seen him on the pier, but that was one incident. I didn’t have the full story on that scenario.

“If I wanted to do that, I would have done it when I first saw him.” I say, jerking my head toward Kirishima. Something told me telling this merman and Kirishima that I had first seen them talking to a human was not a good idea.

“Be nice!” Kirishima barks at his friend, saying something else in merfolk language (merspeech?) to which Blondy scoffs.

“Kirishima likes you. Don’t crush his heart.” Blondy growls.

I ruffle Kirishima’s hair. Blondy must really like Kirishima if he’s being this overprotective “I don’t plan to. Hey...Kirishima told me this is personal to you, but...what’s your name, if I can ask?” I try to phrase it in a polite way, so he wouldn’t be madder at me than he already was.

“...I don’t have to tell you.” Blondy growls.

I chuckle. “True, you don’t. But, it’s either that, or I call you Blondy from now on.” I tease.

“You do that, I scratch you. It’s Bakugo!”

I nod, extending a hand. It worked like I thought it would. “Great! My name is Takara, but my nickname is Kara.”

Bakugo reluctantly shakes my hand, appearing to realize he’d been duped into giving his last name.

Then...I heard a surprised voice call out from further down the pier. “He-hello?” I turn and see the person from that night on the pier striding toward me.

I stand. “...I suppose I need to explain, huh?” I begin, extending a hand again. “My name is Takara. I met a merman named Kirishima almost six months ago. I’ve been meeting him over in that alcove” I point out where I mean when the person makes no move to introduce themselves or shake my hand, “every day, and earlier today he asked me to come here later to meet a friend.”

The person is quiet for several seconds.

“...That dumbass.” The person growls, face-palming.

Kirishima unhelpfully pops his head up a few feet further in the water, watching us.

“Kirishima wants to say goodbye.” Bakugo says, rolling his eyes.

I blink, my heart dropping into my chest.

“What do you mean?” He hadn’t left in a long time. I found myself not wanting him to go anywhere despite knowing I couldn’t keep him here.

The human turns to me. “Bakugo is going back to the merfolk city. It’s a long story, but they’ll be gone at least a week, but maybe more. Kirishima is guiding him.”

I turn to Kirishima. “Why didn’t you tell me?!” I snap, irritated. He flinches back and I realize he might not understand all of what I was saying. I take a breath. “Kirishima, I would have understood if you need time away. No hiding things from me, okay?”

Kirishima slowly comes over, nodding sheepishly. “Sorry, Kara. No hide no more.” He murmurs.

I sigh, unable to stay mad at him for long. “I hope you have fun, okay? See you in a week.” He comes even closer and I take a few steps into the water to meet him, wearing shorts and sandals so I’m not ruining my clothes. He hugs me tightly and I hug him back, inwardly sighing at the instant rebuttal to my thought about not ruining my clothes. Ah, well. “Let’s let them say goodbye, ok?” I guide him toward our alcove, the water lapping against the bottom of my shorts now.

“I miss you all time.” Kirishima promises, blinking rapidly like he was about to cry.

“I’ll miss you, too.” I reply.

“Kara wait here?” He asks sheepishly. I tilt my head to the side.

“Ok...why?”

“Close eyes and no open!” He cries, now excited. Sighing at his antics, I close my eyes.

I hear him splash into the water and he’s gone, the sound of the waves and the distant conversation on the pier the only sound I heard.

Then, I felt a hand grab mine. Knowing it was Kirishima by the webbed fingers, I let him plop something into my outstretched hands. It felt like maybe...a rock? Or a shell?

“Kara open eyes.” Kirishima instructs and I do to see…

A oyster shell crafted into a necklace case. There was a necklace inside, with a very large pearl (one of the largest I’ve ever seen) as the pendant, with driftwood craftily carved around the pearl. The rest seemed to be some kind of cord, but from what I don’t know. It seemed like seaweed, but I wasn’t sure.

“Whoa...Kirishima...where did you get this?” I ask breathily, eyes locked on the gift, fingers brushing over it gingerly.

“Search all round. Find good pearl for Kara, get help make gift.” Was this what he was up to when he was gone?

I find a very simple version of a lobster claw clasp on the end of the woven cord, so I clip the damp necklace on. It rested halfway between my collarbone and sternum, the pearl glistening in the moonlight.

“I love it, Kirishima!” I praise, hugging him again.

Cheekily, Kirishima puts his cheek close to my lips in his traditional request for a kiss. I laugh. “Ok, but just one, then you gotta get going, alright?”

“...Alright.” He murmurs, not happy at leaving me for around a week. “Kara be waiting?”

“Kara wait.” I assure him. I kiss his cheek. “Now go before your friend gets madder than he already is.” Kirishima chuckles and dives, speeding toward Bakugo and the pair take off after Bakugo gets a kiss, too, only...on the lips? Whoa.

I shake myself. That was none of my business.

I could just leave and let the identity of the mysterious human on the pier remain a mystery...or I could go talk to them.

Deciding that it was too late to start talking about how we both knew mermen, I decide to pull up a notes app and type out my contact info while walking back to the pier along the shore, waving to Kirishima when I spot him in the distance.

I show them the note. “Here...in case you wanna talk.” I yawn as the other person takes their phone out and snaps a pic, yawning as well.

“I’ll see if I can call you tomorrow. We’ve got time to kill til the boys get back.” They reply slowly, as if unsure if they should really be doing this.

“Goodnight!” I call over my shoulder as I walk back to my apartment.

=#=#=#=#=

I’d waited four days before coming again. I knew it would take closer to a week at the earliest, but I couldn’t help it.

Most times, I waited til evening when the other person who knew about merfolk (Y/N, as I came to learn their name was) would be there so we could talk, but they were hesitant and still a bit wary of me, which I suppose was justifiable, considering that I was a sudden interjection into their life and routine.

I started going to the alcove instead and waiting just outside the entrance, leaving Y/N to wait in private.

Time seemed to speed up somehow and, 8 days after the two mermen left for the merfolk city, I saw Kirishima’s long red tail zipping toward me as he raced to get back to me. I duck into the alcove and manage to get far enough back that Kirishima, while he does splash me, doesn’t land on top of me. He eagerly hugs me and I fall backwards into the shallow end of the pool in the alcove. Kirishima’s necklace dug into my chest, but I couldn’t care less as I scoot myself and Kirishima back so I could sit with his head in my lap. My legs were extended on either side of Kirishima’s lean muscular body.

His hand takes mine and he seemed to relax, smiling at me broadly.

“Kara waiting!” Kirishima purrs, stroking my hand happily.

I nod. “Yes, yes I was.”

“Not on wood like thought.” Kirishima muses and I blink.

“Oh I’m sorry!” I stammer.

“It ok.”

Before anything else could be said, I felt my foot being grabbed and, looking up, I see green eyes with a mop of green hair looking up at you from the water.

It took several seconds for anything to happen, both of us too stunned to do or say anything.

Kirishima then took the initiative, scooping me up, plopping me further up the shallow end and lightly shoving the new merman toward me, taking up what appeared to be a guard position at the exit, and I can’t help but still be flabbergasted. In a few more moments, my curious nature won out and I ease myself forward a little.

“Hello.” I greet, slowly extending my hand.

The new merman, this one green with hints of red in his tail, eyes wary but also curious like mine, swims a little nearer, hand reaching for mine.

Once his fingers touched mine, he seemed to forget his fear, coming closer still and examining my hand eagerly, my fingers and arm thoroughly explored by his webbed hand.

Evidently, the lack of webbing was as strange to this merman as it had been to Kirishima the day we met face to face.

The merman then started to explore down my torso and before I could peel his hands off, Kirishima barked in merspeech and the merman scooted away a little, looking ready to bolt, eyes darting sheepishly around to look at anything but me and Kirishima, his cheeks flushed.

I scoot back, draw my legs up, and extend one leg to him. The merman looks to Kirishima, who says something else in his language, nodding at me, and the green merman responds, sounding relieved and grateful, before gripping my foot again.

If it weren’t for all the times Kirishima had grabbed my foot, I’d have laughed aloud and withdrawn.

As it was, though I laughed, I held my foot still. The merman continued prodding and examining my foot before my ankle became a point of interest. After that, though he looked at my legs, he didn’t touch them like Kirishima had.

In fact, he scooted away from me, his curiosity apparently sated for now.

I look at my friend, a strange feeling forming in my gut. “You tell him not to touch my leg?” I ask.

Kirishima nods. “No touching you there.” He says with a bit of possessiveness in his voice and manner. It hadn’t been there before.

“Why not?” I ask, frowning. Normally, Kirishima was the type to go with the flow, not enforce rules.

Kirishima gets flustered, his face turning nearly as red as the green merman’s cheeks, but he swims closer to look me in the eyes. “Because merman no touch other’s mate.” He says sincerely.

My eyes go wide, and my heart skips a beat. His...what?!

“R-really?” I ask timidly.

“Yes. We mates in merfolk ways.” He explains. “That...that ok? Kara not mad?”

It takes a long few minutes for me to answer.

...I was someone’s mate?! What the hell happened at the merfolk city?!

“N-no...ah...no, Kirishima. Um, Kara not mad. Just...surprised.” I murmur slowly, trying to figure out why I wasn’t more upset about this.

I hadn’t been offered a choice, and yet...I wasn’t actually that upset at all. It seemed...fine, in a way. I knew I ought to be furious, but then again, I’ve never had a boyfriend and likely never would have. I’d simply never met the right guy, so...what if...what if maybe I could be happy meeting Kirishima everyday? I know we’d never be able to...well, make kids, but frankly I never liked the idea of intimacy.

I could honestly say I’d be happy to call Kirishima my mate and continue meeting as we are now if it made him happy.

I smile at Kirishima. Somehow, we’d make this weird relationship work.

I had a feeling this would be a great adventure.

The green merman now inched closer, not touching me but swimming to my other side.

In all the excitement about being declared Kirishima’s mate, I’d nearly forgoten about the other merman.

He says something in merspeech, as if asking a question, hands fidgeting nervously.

“He wants to give you his name.” Kirishima translates.

I blink. “Really?” I ask.

I look at the merman curiously. He smiles at me, then nods at Kirishima as if to say ‘go ahead’.

Kirishima points to the merman. “Midoriya.” He says. “That his family name.”

I nod. “Can you tell him my name is Kara?” I ask. Kirishima does, I assume, then Midoriya extends a hand. Apparently, hand shaking was also used in merfolk culture. I shake Midoriya’s hand.

Kirishima yawns suddenly. I smile empathetically at him. “You’re tired from your swim.” I say, stating it as a fact so he wouldn’t argue. “Go get sleep. We’ll meet here tomorrow.” I promise.

“You will?” He asks.

“I will.” I swear. “Always.”

#Fanfiction #Fanfiction Request #BNHA #MHA #MHA AU #BNHA AU #no quirks au #Merman!Kirishima AU #Eijiro Kirishima #Eijiro Kirishima X OC #Eijiro Kirishima X Takara Yamada #OC #Original Female Character #Takara Yamada #Izuku and Katsuki are here too #Briefly

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dr-gloom · 6 years

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I See The Light

Summary: Based on the prompt “I always hear you singing on your balcony (below mine) every morning, but suddenly you’ve stopped?” from this post

Fandom: Sanders’ Sides

Pairing: Prinxiety

Words: 1,949

Tags/Warnings: Human AU, singing, idk what else uh, self deprecation?, Disney songs, some swearing

Enjoy!

Read it on AO3

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“I have often dreamed of a far off place Where a great, warm welcome would be waiting for me Where the crowds would cheer, when they see my face And a voice keeps saying this is where I'm meant to be”

Virgil’s ears perked up as he listened through the open glass door to his balcony. It sounded like his neighbor was singing again. It was almost always a Disney song, sometimes just a sappy romantic love song. Today it seemed to be the former. Virgil found himself turning his TV off and wandering onto his balcony, sitting in the lone chair and listening to the smooth voice of his neighbor below.

“I know ev'ry mile will be worth my while I would go most anywhere to feel like I belong I am on my way, I can go the distance I don't care how far, somehow I'll be strong”

Virgil thought about the melancholy undertones to this song, and he wondered if the singer thought of the same things when he sang this song. Virgil somehow doubted it; the man didn’t seem like the type to be cynical or a pessimist. It was just as well, he thought, because if the other was then he probably wouldn’t be singing Disney every morning on his balcony. Virgil would miss that, though how could you miss something if it never started in the first place?

That was two months ago. Virgil sat on his couch, the glass door open like it was every morning, but he hadn’t heard that smooth and charismatic voice in a month and a half. He found himself hoping today he’d hear it, that the other had simply been sick, or on a trip, not... Whatever this was. Was he sick of singing? Did he get self-conscious? Did he sing inside, with the door closed now? Had he realized that Virgil sat outside listening to him and gotten creeped out? God, he hoped not. Virgil picked at the seam poking out of the arm of his shitty thrift-store couch; his token nervous habit. His neighbor was probably singing in his apartment where he wouldn’t be stalked by strangers.

Yet... Virgil couldn’t help being worried about him. He wanted to make sure the other wasn’t seriously injured or something. But he couldn’t just... Go downstairs and knock on his door, could he? He shakes his head, knocking his headphones crooked off his left ear. He stands, making sure his phone is still in his pocket before heading into his room and grabbing a piece of paper and looking around for some kind of string before finding an old pair of sneakers and grinning. He didn’t wear them anymore because the bottoms were so worn his sole was peaking out at the front, but he didn’t want to throw them out because they had drawings all over them. He picks them up, takes the shoelaces out and ties them together, then grabs a sharpie and heads back to the couch.

Virgil taps the sharpie against his bottom lip in thought for a good few minutes, every idea quickly being discarded.

Too stupid.

Too weird.

That’s just creepy.

Is that too suggestive or something?

Finally he settles for I always hear you singing on your balcony (below mine) every morning, but you’ve stopped. Are you okay? then he gently pokes a hole in the paper and loops the shoelace through it, walking onto his balcony and lowering the paper until it’s dangling about head-height in front of the balcony below his. He ties the end he’s still holding to the railing of his balcony, makes sure the paper is still there, then goes back inside, shutting his door. He takes out his phone and checks the time, then makes himself a late breakfast before heading to work.

When Virgil comes home that night, he’s virtually forgotten about his downstairs neighbor, the singing, and his note. He flops down onto the couch with a tired sigh, rubbing his face as he searches for the remote and puts on Steven Universe. He goes into the kitchen and heats up some leftover spaghetti before sitting back in his spot and eating silently. He fucking loves Garnet, wow. Just. Queen. He’s partway into his third episode of the night when someone knocks on his door, and for a moment he thinks he’s just hearing things, or maybe there’s rats in the walls, so he ignores it. When it happens again a moment later, he glances over at his door, his chest feeling a little funny.

No one ever knocks on his door. No one ever comes to pay him a visit. Not even his old college-roomy-turned-friend Patton knows where he lives. Virgil hesitantly gets up, setting the long-empty plate on the couch and slowly making his way to the door. There’s the sound of shuffling on the other end, and whoever’s on the other side starts knocking again just as Virgil gets there. He ignores the voice in his head telling him to just leave it, it’s a stranger, it could be a robber and opens the door. Standing in the hallway with his fist raised in the air is a stranger, looking mildly surprised in possibly the weirdest outfit Virgil has ever seen someone wear outside of a movie set - I mean, seriously? A prince outfit? And what’s with the sash? - and perfectly styled hair. The stranger quickly composes himself, lowering his hand and smiling warmly at Virgil, who’s openly staring and feeling increasingly awkward in his black sweats and My Chemical Romance shirt.

“So ah..” Virgil’s eyes widen. Oh shit. Oh fuck. It’s the guy that lives below him. Virgil mentally kicks himself; what did he expect to happen? The mystery singer would write a note back and they’d just become best friends, communicating through a shoelace and a piece of paper? And now he was here to yell at Virgil, to tell him what a creep he was and demand he leave him be. The singer rubs the back of his neck a little awkwardly, holding Virgil’s note in the other hand and glancing at him with slight embarrassment (why is he embarrassed?). “I found your note...”

Virgil nods mutely. He can’t get his voice to work, can’t bring himself to speak to this embarrassingly attractive - if strange - man before him. The singer doesn’t seem to have a problem carrying the conversation, though. “I hadn’t realized anyone could actually hear me. I mean, not that I mind, after all I’m used to singing in front of crowds, but... I’m sorry I worried you, I’m alright.” He flashes Virgil a megawatt smile, and Virgil has to look down at the dingy carpet between their feet.

“That... That’s good to hear.” He mumbles, picking at the hem of his hoodie sleeve. “Why... Why’d you stop?” Virgil didn’t know why he asked. He shouldn’t have asked, that was stupid, it wasn’t any of his business. The singer didn’t seem angry though. “Oh! Well you see, I got the lead in a musical - I don’t want to overdo it and cause vocal fatigue before we’ve even made it to tech week!” So that explained the clothes, he guessed. “I’m Roman.” The man, Roman, holds out his hand, and Virgil takes it with a light grip, surprised when Roman returns it with one five times as sure and shakes it. “Ah... Virgil.” Roman’s smile brightens at that and he nods. “A handsome name! If you wouldn’t mind me being so forward, Virgil, would you like to accompany me to dinner?”

Virgil’s heart sinks a little bit. He had such bad timing. “Oh, I uh... I just ate.”

Roman is undeterred. “Coffee, then!”

Virgil bites his lip, studying Roman’s face. This wasn’t all some elaborate plan to make Virgil feel comfortable around him before tearing into him... was it? Virgil shook his head; he was being ridiculous. “Yeah, coffee sounds good.”

“Excellent!” Roman holds his arm out and Virgil flushes slightly, grabbing his wallet and keys beside the door and hooking his other arm with Roman’s before locking his door behind him. “You know, shouting puts stress on your vocal folds too.” Roman laughs, the sound full and hearty, entirely contagious (but Virgil manages to just smile). “I suppose you have a point. However!” He flourishes with his free arm. “I am a performer, I cannot be subdued!” Virgil rolls his eyes, but his smile doesn’t leave for the rest of the night.

Virgil leans on the railing of his balcony, watching the sun finish rising in the sky. He wasn’t usually one for waking up insanely early, but he supposed dating Roman meant some of his habits would rub off on him. He found a smile forming on his lips and the strange urge to sing. What was it he’d just said about habits?

“All those days watching from the windows All those years outside looking in All that time never even knowing Just how blind I've been

“Now I'm here blinking in the starlight Now I'm here suddenly I see Standing here it's all so clear I'm where I'm meant to be”

Virgil blushes slightly, thinking of the day he’d really met Roman. That blindingly-bright smile directed at him. And it always had been, since that night.

“And at last I see the light And it's like the fog has lifted And at last I see the light And it's like the sky is new And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once everything looks different Now that I see you”

Virgil hears the door to Roman’s balcony open, and he sucks in a breath. Roman’s never heard him sing, what if he thought he was bad at it? Roman was so much better - he did it professionally! But instead of a snarky comment or criticism, he hears the fluid counterpart of Flynn’s verse.

“All those days chasing down a daydream All those years living in a blur All that time never truly seeing Things, the way they were

“ Now he's here shining in the starlight Now he's here suddenly I know If he's here it's crystal clear I'm where I'm meant to go”

Virgil blushes when he notices the pronoun change. Well, if he was being honest with himself he felt like this song pretty accurately described his relationship with Roman, from his life before they met up to how he felt now. They sing the next line together.

“And at last I see the light”

Roman leans on the railing of his balcony. “And it’s like the fog has lifted”

“And at last I see the light”

Virgil looks out at the fading sunrise. “And it’s like the sky is new”

“And it's warm and real and bright And the world has somehow shifted All at once everything is different Now that I see you”

After a moment of calm silence, Roman leans over the edge of his balcony and looks up at Virgil with a grin. “Sadpunzel, Sadpunzel, let down your hair.” Virgil rolls his eyes and smiles. Of course he would joke at a time like this.

“You have a key, I’m pretty sure it’d be safer and easier to just climb the stairs.”

Roman pouts and disappears, presumably to come up the stairs to Virgil’s apartment. Virgil laughs softly and heads inside, shutting the glass door gently. He felt like he was living a completely different life now; same face, same apartment, same job, but everything was brighter and kinder and the world was full of more life than Virgil had ever thought it could be.

“Now that I see you”

A/N: fuck Tumblr for making me think of spaghetti all damn day

Also Virgil going to all that trouble to make sure someone is okay without having to see them face-to-face is such a Mood(tm)

My headcanon for Virgil’s singing voice is something like the first voice in this video (honestly i just think he’d be slightly higher-pitched than Roman? ((dont listen to the whole thing - flynns voice will give you nightmares)))

Wow! I was totally just gonna write something painfully short and sweet, but then the idea for their duet came to me and I couldn’t resist. Also, by that point they’ve been dating for... At least five months? Six? Really honestly just A While(tm)

A little Character Analysis: Roman is singing Somewhere I Belong in the beginning because he’s been having a hard time finding work, and with how flamboyant and amazing he is, many big-city people are put off by him. He has a few good friends, but honestly he feels like a little fish in a big pond, so to speak.

#i haven't written yet today #was doing homework #sigh #sanders sides #sanders sides fanfiction #prinxiety #roman sanders #virgil sanders #when you wanna post before midnight but you decide to proof-read and it sets you behind

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baconwaffle2016 · 6 years

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WIP Week, Day 2: My Favorite WIP, Baby Royals!(in Hogwarts) AU

First, this is dedicated to @geldris, whom I’ve horribly neglected when it comes to the Hogwarts/BabyRoyals!AU.

Several months ago, Brooke and I basically talked about doing a collab featuring the Baby Royals (Elizabeth, Zeldris, and Arthur) in Hogwarts, and the adventures they have there--including learning magic, engaging in duels, and having awkward af crushes. Idk how Brooke still feels about it, but I go back to it every now and again to work on stuff, because I really really just love the idea of it. (I really love Harry Potter, and Hogwarts AUs, so.)

This is one of the one shots/stories I started working on, focusing on Elizabeth (who’s a Hufflepuff with a penchant for mischief and nerve) in her Fifth Year. It isn’t really polished, and I don’t know what to do with it just yet--but I hope you like it!

(Also @thisisaverycreativeurl, hints of a Rival Seekers AU. You’ll know when you see it *wink wonk*)

When one really thought about it, this was all Alioni’s fault; if he’d just kept his blasted mouth shut, none of this would have happened.

Alioni had never taken his status as a Hufflepuff so gracefully. Even before Elizabeth entered Hogwarts as a student, and was called into Hufflepuff’s fold, he would spend most of his days ranting on The Sorting Hat’s placement. Thought it made him just another average, no-good student, he did. No one could convince him otherwise, not even Elizabeth, who tried to be kind to him even as he’d sneered down at her like she was dirt under his shoe.

It wasn’t long before Alioni grew older, became a Seventh Year; and he only grew angrier. And like some people who festered in anger, he took his problems out on other students. One of these people happened to be Ban Benwick.

A lot of rumors already surrounded Ban, with his razor sharp grin, his gangly (but also quite toned) form, those eyes, and of course, the angry scar on his neck. He had a look to him that wasn't quite Gryffindor, yet his attitude said otherwise. While he was quite picky on what and who he fought for, and he’d be quite vicious during said fights, he was never afraid to call people out on their shite--especially in defense of those he liked.

How he and Meliodas Cornwall became friends is sort of a Hogwarts mystery. Most Gryffindors didn’t even try to befriend Slytherins, and vice versa. And yet, despite any rivalry they’d had years prior, friends they became.

To this day, Elizabeth still has no idea what Alioni said to make Ban snap. She remembers her and Zeldris meeting up with Arthur after their Potions class, and then the three of them walking out into the courtyard to hear yelling. While there, she knows she caught Alioni jeering about an “animal” and in a mix of worry and anger, she ran forward to see what was happening.

When she pushed through the crowd, Elizabeth saw that Elaine had her arms wrapped around Ban’s waist from the front while Meliodas was behind him and holding his arms, both struggling to hold Ban back from destroying Alioni. She remembers how Ban’s face was contorted with a rage and a pain that only a few people in Hogwarts understood, Elizabeth included.

(She’s one of the Headmaster’s daughters; any secret a student has--including that of tooth and claw, and blood--she already knows before they enter.)

Alioni laughed, his sneer ugly. “Yeah, hide behind your little mudblood slag. Does she even know? Does she know that she’s been snogging, and Merlin knows what else, with a damned w--”

It happened so fast, the only sound being that of skin hitting skin, and maybe the cracking of bone. Alioni had been talking talking, spitting out shite that drew some gasps, glares, and some smirks, and Elizabeth could only feel a haze of anger. Before she could step forward and do something, her fists already curled and ready to break his bloody face, no matter how Arthur tried to cajole her, someone else’s fist landed there first. When Elizabeth blinked in her shock, she saw Meliodas standing over Alioni, his fist clenched and spotted with blood that started bleeding from Alioni’s broken nose.

Now, Meliodas Cornwall was many things. An absolute prick and “pain in my arse,” Zeldris would always answer whenever someone asked. A “robot with human skin”, Arthur had once argued in their third year. An arrogant jerk who’s always trying to ruin someone’s fun, Elizabeth used to think whenever he’d snitch on her and her friends after they pulled a prank, or broke one of Hogwarts’ rules, as if he was the perfect little student.

(And many people did think this of him, her mother included. Her mother always seemed to prefer taking in others’ accomplishments before Elizabeth’s.)

Meliodas was serious, studious, a stickler for rules, and seemed to prefer being alone--unless he had friends around, but those were usually few and far between--and he did not get into fights. Not the sorts with fists, anyway.

“Get up.”

Elizabeth blinked, saw Alioni swallowing through his pained tears as he stammered, “W-w-what?”

Meliodas was already throwing his robe to the side and rolling up his sleeves to his elbows. Elizabeth remembers her eyes going wide because, well--Whoa, Hello, where did those arms come from?--and her heart thumped as he loosened the green and silver tie from his neck, his eyes blazing.

“Get. Up,” he said again, almost in a growl.

“B-but y-your wand,” stammered Alioni, sounding like he wanted to bargain.

Meliodas sneered and cracked his knuckles. “I won't need it to do this.”

Long story short, Alioni got his arse kicked--brutally, surprisingly, but also hilariously--and Meliodas walked away to the Headmaster’s office with only a couple bruises on his knuckles and some blood running from the side of his mouth. He'd cost Slytherin fifteen house points, but he didn’t care. His head was high, and his walk was confident, and he drew stares for weeks afterward.

Elizabeth tried not to stare, like everyone else did. She did, truly. She tried not to even acknowledge his presence as he walked through the hall, tried not to be in tune to his voice, or his laugh (When did he learn to laugh…?). She especially tried not to think of how broad his back had become or how tall he’d gotten (still an inch shorter than her but that didn’t matter), or how green his eyes were, and how he smiled and how it just did things to her squishy Hufflepuff heart--

Oh, no, Elizabeth thought when she woke up one day. She whimpered and pressed her pillow to her bright red face, her heart still doing that stupid, rather fluttery thump-thump in her chest. Oh, no, no, no.

Now, Elizabeth has had crushes before. She was at a point in her life where boys, and sometimes girls, were awfully pleasing to look at. She’d sometimes fancy a different person every week, someone she’d stare at and fantasize about during both waking and sleeping moments. She even toyed with the idea of snogging Arthur once, because he was cute and a friend, and that was just what you did if you had friends who were cute. That was normal. That was fine.

Whatever this was towards Meliodas was not a crush. This was an existential crisis.

Why? Well, it was just...stupid. Boys in general were stupid, especially when they got into stupid and immature fights. And Elizabeth wasn’t that type of girl, the sort who fanned her neck during a duel of wands or an exchange of fists, as if she was some doe for bucks (or other does) to impress and win over. (She wasn’t Margaret, bloody hell.) So if it was just the fight, it wouldn't have been a big deal, Elizabeth would tell herself. Meliodas would just be another stupid boy to fancy for a week, then move on from.

But Meliodas wasn’t just a stupid boy; he was a stupid boy Elizabeth knew. From a distance mostly, initially, an annoyance that came to her when she never asked for such a presence. So it was hard to ignore Meliodas when he approached her during such moments.

“Oi, Liones.”

Elizabeth looked up from her untouched breakfast and saw Meliodas standing across the table. His hands were in his robes and his expression was stony, but there was something in his eyes. A look he’d never given to her before.

(Or, perhaps, she’d never looked before?)

“Your first Quidditch game is today, I hear,” he said.

Elizabeth nodded, her mouth pressed closed.

“You scared?”

“No,” she said automatically, irritated that he assumed so, even if his assumption was correct. Elizabeth sat up more, tried to summon the confidence that had thrilled through her when she’d been chosen to become Hufflepuff’s Seeker, and asked, “Why should I be?”

“Merlin is said to be the best and fastest Seeker Ravenclaw’s had in a century,” said Meliodas, his brow quirked. “It would be natural to be nervous, especially if it's your first game.”

Elizabeth found her gaze falling to a table across the Great Hall, where the Ravenclaws sit. She saw Merlin sitting with Gowther, who was a Chaser, and she watched them converse with each other. She saw Merlin pause and turn to meet her gaze. Merlin stared at Elizabeth for a moment, and then she smirked before turning back to Gowther. Elizabeth’s stomach twisted.

Still, she turned back to meet Meliodas’ gaze and said, “I'm not afraid.”

Meliodas stared at her, his expression seemingly patronizing. Then he smirked, but not with cruelty, not with that warmth in his gaze.

“You should have fought the Hat for Gryffindor,” he nearly muttered.

Elizabeth blinked, unsure if she heard correctly. Before she could ask what he meant, Meliodas sat across from her and folded his arms onto the table.

He leaned towards her and spoke quietly, almost a whisper, “Listen close, Liones. Merlin is fast and experienced, but she has a blind spot that you can easily take advantage of…”

Despite her reservations, Elizabeth listened to his advice, the wisdom of another Seeker just as skilled and experienced as Merlin, and her heart swelled again with that thrill.

“Do...do you really think I can win?” she asked eventually.

Meliodas smiled back and told her, “With your nerve, Liones, I have no doubt.”

The second time Elizabeth donned her Quidditch garb and marched onto the field with her team, broom in hand and her shoulders squared, it was Slytherin’s team they stopped short of. She met Meliodas’ eyes across the field, took in how he looked in his garb, and felt her heart flutter.

“Scared, Liones?” asked Meliodas, his smirk proud and his green eyes gleaming.

Elizabeth smirked back. “You wish.”

#wip week #wipweek #Favorite WIP #nanatsu no taizai #hogwarts au #baby royals au #Hufflepuff!Elizabeth #Slytherin!Meliodas #Gryffindor!Ban

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