#this is a clean up of a really old sketch and decided today would be the day

[notelectrictigerart]

Happy birthday Emma! Bringing back the chapter illustration for today!

[keefwho]

December 26 - 2023 Tuesday

10:53pm

This morning I cleaned up some boxes and put away my bottled water. I also vacuumed and tidied the area where my shoes go. I had to use the bathroom very badly so that interrupted my cleaning but I was almost done anyways. I took my shower and made mini corn dogs with a side of macaroni and applesauce. I made sure to make an appropriate meal size because I weighed myself and am seemingly on the up but it might just be what I ate yesterday. Either way it never hurts to try and make each of my meals 33% of my calories like I always mean to. It also promotes proper hunger when the next meal comes along. Just as I was about to start streaming, Daisy asked if I wanted to call while she drove to meet up with her friend and of course I wanted to. We chatted about stuff while I worked. I warmed up with some Zelda sketches and started on the group commission again. After she left, I booted up a short stream to start the next season of Mia and Me and finish commission work. This next episode was awful, somehow the voice actors got even worse but I'm sure we'll adjust. Afterwards I chilled with a Bojack and some other videos. I started lunch early since I was making rice a roni and it takes around 90 minutes to cook the way I do it. I played some KSP in that time and started designing a rocket to land on the moon and come back which is turning out to be very difficult with the few parts I've unlocked. The rice a roni came out good but my tummy started hurting while I ate it. The coke I had today was partly frozen so it was nice and chilly. For work I popped into VRchat for conversation and joined on Egg who usually isn't on at that time. She was checking out the reuploaded movie world and put on Perfect Blue while I worked but we left after 15ish minutes because she wasn't in the headspace to watch it anymore. We jumped to a Black Cat and camped upstairs until this 16 year old girl sparked conversation about furries and identity. Egg left for a DnD session and I was left with the girl who trauma dumped on me for a good while. I was drawing so I just listened. When I was done working, I got off and DMed Daisy about some stuff. I tried joining David's VC while I worked on Plaz's world but they were gaming and it wasn't a great call for conversation. There was also someone very intentionally make cute yawns and other noises because they were tired but they swore they weren't meaning to make noise. They were annoying because they were using their tiredness to be funny or get attention or something. I left and decided to chill for awhile. I tuned into some GTA RP and tried playing Steel Division but I didn't really feel like playing that. Then I played more KSP and made a little progress but it wasn't chill enough. I figured Daisy would be going to bed soonish so I started Neopets and hung out in a cozy house while I ate dinner and watched RP. Daisy called after a bit and I played Neopets for her while we chatted about our days as usual. At one point she was checking out her new Kindle Paperwhite and read 4 chapters of Black Beauty which reminded me of when mom would read me to sleep. It was very cozy and I hope someday she will read me to sleep.

Today I felt okay. I made sure to stick to my schedule real good because I know thats a good way to feel good about myself and justify leisure time. Often times I shift the schedule for the sake of a little more break time but I find I am much happier when I just stick to the plan and work hard. Then if I do that right, I have plenty of time in the evening to chill if I want.

[smsverse]

Jacob - Week of 10/14 Dev Blog

During the weekend I had to work on a lot of art related tasks involving the main character of our game. Chris our artist was too busy to be able to give us the proper renders we need so I had to take over character design. I ended up having to completely redesign our main character because the design was not very good for a playable character, the original outfit in the concept sketch would cause problems and there was never a real defined constant hairstyle or face. It took me a bit of time because I had to design him with gameplay in mind while still trying to keep the spirit of the concept sketch. Since Vettel had a cap with a large collar I turned it into a lab coat that's draped over his shoulders with a high collar. Since Vettel is a scientist I tried to give him sort of uniform and give him some science equipment, Lumay in her concept art has a belt with test tubes so I decided to give that to Vettel as well to give them some similarities. I also had to design a color pallet for Vettel and his alternate self VeL. Jeremy had requested purple for VeL and green for Vettel so I kept that in mind when designing the color palette. I also made sure to do a full outfit render of Vettel, a render without his jacket, and another with just his basic articles of clothing. This was all done with the 3d artist in mind. I also colored the masks Chris had designed for us and then included a close up render of Vettels and VeLs faces with and without the masks. Coloring the masks was kind of a challenge because I sort of had to make them my own because I didn't really know what Chris was envisioning and there are areas of the masks I don't really understand so I had to kind of improvise and get creative. I also couldn't fix any line art since Chris uses Clip Studio and I use Photoshop and since I couldn't fix any line art the masks were a bit annoying to color.

I really pushed myself to get this art done asap so we can start the process of commissioning a rigged model which we can now do because we have clean renders of our characters.

I was also getting my assets from previous projects into the main project and I was able to do that but Plastic SCM decided to give us a hard time this week and caused a lot of problems for us. Since Plastic was messing up the main project we started to work in separate files again since we actually couldn't do anything in the main project for a few days because of Plastic having problems. At first it was just Valentines version that was having issues and I was able to push changes but my version also somehow got messed up as well. Jeremy wanted me to get the actual buildings into the vertical slice area so I ended up making the block out a prefab and migrating it to another project not connected with Plastic. Connor was able to eventually fix our project later in the week by reverting to an older build and that seemed to work. So far we are not having issues with Plastic now and are hoping it stops having issues so we can have a stable main project.

I then was the one who was in charge of finding and downloading building models. I was able to find ones that looked good for the dreamscape and hellscape from sketch fab and then had the group pitch in for a building pack from the asset store for the noir world since I was unable to find anything that looked good. I got the building models into the new file I was working on, added colliders to them, sized them and made sure they were layered correctly. Valentine also helped me add in the URP to the project and I then had to go to all my assets and make sure I convert their materials to URP. I had to do this assets by asset and Valentine was also having to do this for assets she was finding in her scene she was working on. We are unable to just upgrade all the materials at once. Today I had a few more I wanted to download but the sketchfab plugin broke in the file I was using so I had to keep opening my old unity projects that had the plugin already and use that until the plugin would break again. I had to use 2 of my old projects just to get the last few assets I needed and then move these into the main file with the rest of the buildings. This was also a challenge because my laptops C Drive is apparently pretty full I am not sure why and it cant really handle having 2 instances of Unity open at the same time anymore so Unity kept crashing. With the help of Valentine I was able to successfully get everything I did into the main scene. I had to prefab the new scene I made and then export what I wanted to move into the main project as a package. I had to do this twice because the first time all my assets prefabs were gone which was a big problem. After getting everything in all of the colliders I added were also gone and I am not sure why this happened. Something similar also happened to Valentine as well. Since the building colliders were missing Jeremy had to quickly add some while he was trying to add the code to the buildings.

You can see I have everything layered on top of each other this is because of the universe switching which is handled through camera layering so each building is in each of its corresponding universes layers. When you actually play the game you can only see the models of the universe you are currently in.

[ladydimitrescuspet]

Picture Perfect

ao3 link! donna beneviento x reader!  I tried to make reader as gender neutral as possible so I hope I succeed! tell me what you think and sorry for any grammatical errors! also inspired by this ask that @milfcoven got but I decided to make the painter reader instead of alcina, hope that’s okay, I just thought this was really cute!

***

You'd only been in the village for six months, but you were friends with most of the villagers. Surprisingly, you hadn't been sent to Castle Dimitrescu upon your arrival. The Lady of the Castle had tried to get you to accompany her back to her home, but you declined the offer and she allowed it. You were shocked, to say the least, that the Lady had let you go back to your home unharmed, but she vowed that you'd be under her protection and that nothing would happen to you as long as you stayed here in the village.

Now, here you were watching another woman who was the Head of House Beneviento. She didn't come into the village often and when she did, she never spoke herself, she used her doll, you didn't know her name. You never questioned it because why would you? So when the woman walked up to you, you were surprised by the visit.

"Oh, good afternoon, Lady Beneviento." You greeted, your hand over your face so you could block out the sunlight a bit.

She nodded her head before the doll spoke. "What's your name?" She asked.

"Um, it's Y/N, My Lady. What's yours?" You replied.

The doll pointed to the Lady in black. "That's Donna, and I'm Angie." Angie said.

"Oh, those are beautiful names. If I'm right, Donna means world ruler and Angie means angel, messenger of God." You said. "Both meanings are very fitting."

Angie walked closer to you. "How so?" Angie asked.

"Well, Gods and Goddesses can be viewed as world rulers and if you're Lady Beneviento's messenger, so to speak, then we must be in the presence of a Goddess, little angel." You responded with a small smile to the doll. You glanced up at Lady Beneviento before looking back at Angie. "But, um, is there anything I can do for the two of you?" You asked.

Angie made the motion of wanting to be picked up, you looked up at Lady Beneviento for approval before doing so. "Mistress Donna would like to know if you would paint us." Angie said. "She said she'd pay you for it."

"Oh, I, well, I would love to paint the both of you." You replied. "I could, well, I guess I could come by House Beneviento whenever it's good for you two."

Angie shook her head. "Mistress Donna says it wouldn't be safe for you to come to the House." Angie said.

You furrowed your brows a bit. "Well, I could do it at my house instead. I'd have to clean it, but we can definitely get it done there if that's okay." Angie nodded her head. "Good. I guess just let me know what day would be a good day to get the painting done."

Angie hopped off your lap and went to be held by Lady Beneviento. She whispered something into Lady Beneviento's ear before looking back at you. "Mistress Donna says Wednesday would be a most pleasant day for the painting."

You smiled up at them. "Wednesday, it is then. I'll be expecting you." You replied. Angie said bye to you from her and Mistress Donna before they walked away from you. You quickly made your way back to your home, avoiding eye contact and conversation with anybody who witnessed your encounter with Lady Beneviento. You let out a small sigh before you began cleaning.

Wednesday came before you knew it, but at least you had most of your place cleaned and organised for your guests. As you finished setting up where you would do the painting there was a faint knock on the door. You let out a shaky breath before opening the door.

"Lady Beneviento, Angie, hi." You greeted as you let them into your home.

"Hi, Y/N. Mistress Donna and I are very excited about the painting today. I was so excited about it last night that I couldn't even sleep!" Angie exclaimed as Lady Beneviento carried her.

You flushed at her excitement. "Well, I'm glad you were excited, but I do hope you got some sleep. You know sleep is very important." You replied. "So this is where I'm going to do the painting. I'll start by sketching the two of you first and then I'll paint it. It'll take a few hours at least, but I should have the two of you home before dark." You explained.

"Y/N?" Angie called out.

You turned around. "Yes?"

"Mistress Donna would like to know if it's okay if she takes off her veil for the painting." Angie said. You nodded your head. "You won't be scared of her scar, will you?" Angie asked.

"Oh, precious angel, no. Lady Beneviento is still a Goddess, with or without her scar." You said with a smile. Angie hugged your leg as Lady Beneviento slowly undid her veil. You let out a small gasp. "See? Your Lady's a Goddess, Angie." You said to the doll and you could see a small blush colour Lady Beneviento's cheeks.

"You- you really think?" Lady Beneviento asked softly. It was the first time you had ever heard her speak, her voice sounded like honey. You nodded your head. "Thank you, um, Y/N."

"You're welcome, Lady Beneviento." You replied.

"Donna." You raised your eyebrow slightly. "In your lovely home, Donna will do just fine." She said with a soft smile.

You nodded you head slightly. "Alright then, Donna." You said. "How about we get started?" You suggested. Donna bit her lip before hesitantly moving over to the chair you set out for her. "Is something wrong? We don't have to do the painting if you don't want to."

Donna shook her head. "N-no, I want to. I just, can you, never mind." She waved the thought off.

You moved closer to her, taking her hand in yours. "Hey, listen, I'll do whatever you want me to do." You said.

"Mistress Donna is a bit self-conscious about her scar, Y/N." You looked at Angie. "Mistress Donna was wondering if you'd paint her an eye instead of painting her scar."

You nodded your head before looking back at Donna. "Is that what you would like, Donna?" You asked. She nodded her head. "I can do that. If that's what you want then I can do that." You replied.

"Mistress Donna says thank you." Angie said motioning for you to pick her up.

You have a small smile. You placed Angie on Donna's lap before asking a question. "Are you two... connected?"

"In a way, yes." Donna replied.

You hummed. You sketched her and Angie mostly in silence, occasionally asking her to turn a certain way. It took you a few hours to sketch them out like you had that it would, but you wouldn't have enough time to get it fully done to give it to her before dark.

"I didn't realise how late it was getting." You said when you looked at the clock. "I apologise for keeping you in town for so long." You stood up from your seat and looked at Angie. "You should probably get this little angel to bed soon, My Lady."

Donna frowned a bit. "Donna, please. I'd like for you to call me Donna." She replied. You simply nodded your head at her request. "I suppose we should get going. Could you hold her while I do this?" She asked, gesturing towards the black veil on your couch.

"Of course." You said as you took the doll from her lap and held her.

"Y/N, can I tell you something?" Angie asked. You smiled at her and leaned your ear down to her. You let out a soft gasp at what she told you. "Is that so? I'll be sure to make it extra special then, just for Donna... and you too, angel." You replied to the doll softly.

It wasn't long before you waving goodbye to the two of them as they headed back to their home. You had agreed on Sunday for Donna and Angie to come back for the painting, and they did. You'd just woken up when you heard the knock on your door. Smiling to yourself you made your way over to let them in.

"Donna, Angie, you're here early!" Nonetheless, you allowed them into your home. "I need a shower, but make yourselves comfortable. I made some tea if you'd like to have some, Donna, cups are in the cabinet on the right." You called over your shoulder as you made your way into the bathroom. When you came out, you found Angie asleep on your couch with Donna's veil over her while Donna was sat in a chair sipping on a cup of tea. "Angie must be really tired if she's sleeping right now." You said, looking at the sleeping doll fondly, a small smile on your face.

Donna let out a small laugh. "She, um, didn't get much sleep last night. And when Angie is restless then so am I." Donna replied. Looking her over, you did notice that she looked a bit tired. "It's no bother to me, I enjoy keeping her company." She quickly added upon seeing the concerned look on your face.

"I don't doubt that one bit." You said. "How have you been?" You asked.

"Same old, same old. Mother Miranda called a meeting for the Lords and warned us of some outsider coming to the village soon, to make sure we're prepared for his arrival." Donna explained. "I have no doubt that Alcina or Heisenberg will get their hands on him before me and Moreau get a chance at him and I wouldn't mind it one bit, to be honest."

"Speaking of Lady Dimitrescu, she tried to pursue me once, but I turned her down. Quite frightening that I lived through it." You said as you sighed into your cup of tea. Donna arched her eyebrow. "She said something about how I reminded her of someone she once knew a long time ago. It was very flattering, I guess, but I had no idea what she was going on about." You explained.

Donna looked at her cup, tapping her fingers on it. "A past lover, I assume." She said softly. You couldn't help the laugh you let out in disbelief. "I'm serious. Alcina has had some lovers come back to her, reincarnated and all that, it never slips past her when a past lover returns to the village." Donna said. "But never have I heard of one passing her up."

You shrugged a bit. "She's a beautiful woman, of course, but nothing compared to you, Donna." You replied and you could see her blush at the compliment as she waved it off. You put your cup down to take her hand in yours as you had done the last time she was here. "I, um, I mean it. You're a Goddess, Donna, you're picture perfect." You said as you leaned closer to her, staring into her eyes, your lips only a few inches from her.

Donna let out a shaky breath. "Speaking of picture perfect, the portrait?" She said before clearing her throat, breaking you out of the trance the two of you seemed to be in.

You jumped up, scratching the back of your head. "Yes, the portrait." You smiled as you went over to get it. You spoke to her as you walked back over to where she was sitting. "A little angel, not naming any names, told me that today was a very special day so I tried to make it extra special for you, Donna." You took the sheet you had over the painting off and waited for her reaction.

You stared at the lady in black sitting in one of your chairs with curious eyes as she stared at the portrait, observing it before she looked up at you with tears in her eyes. Donna stood up from her chair and pulled you into a hug. "It's perfect. So, so perfect. Thank you." Donna said into your ear softly sending a small shiver down your spine as she pulled away. You expected her to sit back down, but instead she studied your face before she leaned in to kiss you. It took you a second to register what was happening before you reciprocated the kiss, pushing your lips into hers a bit before she pulled away. "Was that, did I overstep?" She asked.

You shook your head. "No. Not at all." You said before you kissed her again, a small smile on your face. You reluctantly pulled away. "I'm glad you liked the portrait. Happy Birthday, Donna."

Donna gave you a small smile in return as she returned to her seat, stealing a glance over at the still sleeping doll. "Angie's not going to be pleased that I saw it without her. Or about the fact that we..." Her voice trailed off as she touched her lips before looking up at you. "Put the sheet back on it?" She asked.

"Of course. Wouldn't want the little angel to miss out on such a special moment, would we?" Donna let out a laugh as she shook her head at your question. In all honesty, you hadn't expected to fall for Donna Beneviento, but you were glad you turned down Lady Dimitrescu if it meant you got to make this Goddess of a woman smile and laugh any chance you could.

[midnightstar-90]

Live Laugh Love~ Rockets, Communists, and the Dewey Decimal System

Masterlist | Taglist | Request

Georgie Cooper x Reader

Summary: To appease his worried mother, Sheldon employs the techniques of a self-help book to try and make a friend.

Warnings: None

AN: I plan to write a new chapter once a week. It may change at the end of the school year. On the other hand, I tried to add more to the story. I hope you guys like it.

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Y/N's Pov

I am walking to lunch, and when I round the corner, I see Mary and George looking through the lunchroom window and talking to each other. I make a confused face while listening in on their conversation. "Look at him. It breaks my heart," Mary says sadly. "Poor little guy. Sitting all alone", George says sadly while responding to Mary's comment. "I don't know why his brother or even Y/N can't sit with him. Actually, Where is Y/N. I don't see her anywhere."

"I'm right here," I say, spooking Mary and George before continuing with, "Also, I tried to sit with Sheldon on his first day, and he said it would be best for me to sit with people who have the same intellect as me. I found that rude because he meant Georgie, and I am so much smarter than Georgie. Anyways, Georgie doesn't sit with him because he says In school, they don't know each other". I look between Georgie and Sheldon, then look at my godparents. "Yeah, come on Mary, when you were in high school would you have lunch with a nine-year-old," George asked Mary. "Yes, I would have," Mary responded.  "Well, there is something wrong with you." I took George's words as a sign to leave.

"Well, I'm... gonna... go," I told the married couple before heading into the lunchroom to sit with Georgie and our friends. I sat down to Georgie, trying to fit as many grapes as he can into his mouth. "Fourteen," he yelled out while all of Georgie's friends cheered him on. Georgie spits them all out before turning to me. "What did you think," Georgie asked me, trying to get my opinion on his 'cool' trick. "Georgie, if I wanted to see you stuff your mouth, I would just wait till dinner. In other words, not that interesting," I told my best friend. Georgie replied with a sad "oh" before going back to talking with his friends. I went back to finishing my newest sketch of a finch.

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Georgie and I walked into the house. "Georgie, would you do me a tiny little favor," Mary asked Georgie while he was getting a drink out of the fridge. I sat with the girl I thought of as a little sister before saying hi. Georgie responded back with a "like what" before Mary asked Georgie to sit with Sheldon. I already told Mary why I don't sit with Sheldon. Missy with her smart remarks told Georgie, "Don't do it. I ate with him in second grade, it really hurt my social life." Georgie walked off while replying to Mary with a "No thanks". I kicked Missy under the table, then gave her a 'seriously' look. I shook my head and followed Georgie to 'help' him with his homework, which was more like do his work.

I don't follow Georgie because I'm his lost puppy. I follow Georgie to help him. Without me, Georgie would grow up to be a homeless man with great hair. I am basically Georgie's Guardian angel.

"Georgie, why do I always end up doing your homework? At this point, I don't even think you know how to read. Those magazines are just for show, and you know it. You probably only look at the pictures," I said to Georgie while sitting on his bed doing our geometry homework. "Aw, come on Y/N, don't you know that you're the smartest out of both of us. Without you, I would probably still be in the 5th grade. You were right about something though, those books are for looking, but I can read you." I roll my eyes at Georgie's comment before looking down and smiling.

I admit I might have a bit of a crush on Georgie but we're best friends, and how could I ever compare those girls in his magazine. If I tell Georgie that I like him, that could ruin our friendship, and that would be weird because we live together. So, I just stick to being his best friend. That way our friendship isn't ruined and I can still be as close to him as I can.

"Well I finished your homework and it's 10 o'clock, so I guess this is it. Have a good night," I said before heading out.

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Georgie's POV

Y/N walked out of my room. I felt sad because she was gone. We talk all day, she does my homework, and we have practiced together, but I still miss her. "Maybe I like her," I mumble to myself while laying down staring at the ceiling. "Naw, that can't be," I said. I shut off my light and fell asleep.

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Y/N's POV

I was leaving my art class when I see Sheldon talking to one of the cheerleaders. It's weird to be seeing Sheldon interacting with people without them running off and crying. It interested me so much I decided to listen in.

"Go wolves," Sheldon said in a monotone voice. Jessica closed her locker confused. Sheldon responded back to Jessica with, "You're a cheerleader, and by saying "Go Wolves" I'm initiating a conversation about something that interests you." "Oh, are you one of those special ed kids," Jessica asked still trying to understand what was happening. The older sister part of me kinda felt angry that she said that, but on the other hand she was talking to Sheldon. "My mom says I'm special. Would you like to be friends" Sheldon asks. She tells him, no, but Sheldon keeps going, "Are you sure? What if I told you I admired your boldly-applied makeup?" Jessica walks off offended.

I walk up to Sheldon frantically and say, "Sheldon, you can't say mean things like that. I'm at the top of the pyramid today, and Jessica is right underneath me." "Oh, I didn't know what I said was offensive. I thought that I was complimenting her," Sheldon says. "Well, just try not to insult people. If you don't know what to say, don't say anything to them." Sheldon replies with an "alright" before walking away from me. I watch Sheldon go before heading to my next class.

I got to my next class and I sat down beside Georgie. "I just ran into Sheldon trying to make friends," I told Georgie while I get the stuff I need for class out of my backpack. "I feel bad for whoever had to put up with Sheldon. That boy is not one for making friends," Georgie responds to my comment. "Well, I think it's cute, but I feel bad because he didn't make one friend." "You sound like my mom," Georgie says. I glare at Georgie. The teacher walks in and starts the class.

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I hear Mary yelling about how Sheldon made a friend. I felt happy for him. I feel like Sheldon would really benefit from having a friend. I mean, I have Georgie, and we're inseparable.

I also heard Sheldon ask if he can start his rocketry hobby again with his new friend and I dipped. The last time he launched a rocket he killed a family of squirrels and my eyebrows. I wanted to bond with Sheldon so I helped him with his rocket.

I went downstairs to watch tv with Missy. She was watching DuckTales. "I'm surprised you're not with Georgie," Missy comments as I sit down with her. I roll my eyes and say, "Georgie isn't my whole life. I talked to Sheldon earlier, and now I just want to hang out with you. Sheldon has a new friend now, I have Georgie, but I feel like you don't have anyone to hang out with. So, what do you say tomorrow I take you to get your nails done." Missy's eyes go wide and she excitedly shouts, "Yes, I'm gonna go tell mom!"

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After school, Missy and I went to get our nails done.

(Missy's Nails)

(Y/N's Nails)

When Missy and I got home Mary told us that Sheldon's friend was coming over. Missy and I sat down to talk and watch tv. There was a knock at the door, and that set Mary off. "He's here," she yelled. "Everybody, stay calm! Just a normal day, just a normal dinner," she continued. Missy asks if she and I can eat in front of the TV, which obviously didn't end well.

We're all sitting at the dinner table, except for Mary, when George starts asking Tam, questions. George makes it weird when he asked Tam if his mom was named Kim-lee. Me and Georgie look at each other with a cringed look.

Georgie releases us from the weird vibes when he asks Tam, "So, Vietnam, like in Rambo." Tam responds with a "yes" and then Georgie continues with, "That's a cool movie." Georgie asks Tam if he's in Rambo and I look at him and elbow him in the ribs. Georgie says, "oww, what was that for" before Tam tells him "no". Sheldon brings the conversation back to George's comment, but it is cut off by Mary serving dinner.

We learned a lot about Tam's family and life. It was very interesting. Georgie said a couple more stupid things, which earned him a few more elbows to the ribs.

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I was in my room, getting ready for bed. Georgie walks in and sits on my bed.

(Y/N's Room)

(Y/N's PJ's)

"How was the day with my sister," Georgie asks me. I sign for Georgie to get off the bed and say, "We had fun. After our nails, we went to Dairy Queen and got a blizzard. I think Missy and I really needed today, you know." Georgie helps me make my bed and continues the conversation, "I missed you today." "Is Georgie Cooper jealous? Georgie Cooper didn't have someone to do his homework and now he's sad," I said mocking Georgie. Georgie grows a sad look on his face and says, "No, I missed my best friend. Not the girl that does my homework, or the girl that helps me clean my room. I miss the girl I talk to for hours. The girl that makes me feel special compared to the rest of my family. I miss that girl and that girl is you."

"Wow, that was deep for a kid that went a couple of hours without seeing me, but I know how you feel. Missy and Sheldon don't know how to do the things we do. I almost made Missy cry by insulting her earlier. I think I hang around boys too much," I say getting ready to lay down. Georgie climbs into the bed with me and we silently talk for the rest of the night.

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

If I Fell For You (Part 15) - Trouble In Paradise

Summary: The reader is enjoying settling into her newfound children’s book career and shares how important the bracelet she gave Jensen is to her. A rainy day allows the reader to enjoy her shift into motherhood despite all of the bumps that go with it. But not everything is smooth sailing for the happy couple...

Masterlist

Pairing: Jensen x nanny!reader

Word Count: 5,600ish

Warnings: language, angst, mention of past abuse, nightmares, major angst

A/N: Uh oh. Big uh oh. Please enjoy and let me know what you think!

________

Two Weeks Later

“Honey bun,” sang Jensen as he stepped into your home office you’d set up in the small reading room in the house. “Must you work today?”

“I do occasionally have to work on that drawing thing,” you said. He pouted and laid out on the daybed, picking up a copy of the third book. “Give me another hour to finish with these pages.”

“Can I hang out and watch you draw?” he asked.

“Knock your socks off,” you said. You picked up your stylus again and went back to your pad, Jensen sitting up and watching from the other side of the room. “You can sit closer if you want.”

He got up and pulled over a chair, crossing his legs in it.

“I basically draw using my stylus and this pad and it shows up on my laptop screen,” you said.

“We could get you a better screen, like your own separate work computer. I know your stories are picking up a lot of steam.”

“I’m okay for now. All I need to do is finish illustrating this book and my five book deal is done and ready for print,” you said.

“Can I make a request?”

“I would love to put in a giraffe for Zepp but the story takes place in the woods,” you said.

“Baby giraffe? Maybe just in the background?” he asked.

You backed out of your current page and went to the last two where the foxes and wolves were playing with their friends. You tapped on a tree and erased it, sketching out a loose shape.

“Look up a giraffe for me?” you asked. He tapped away on his phone and pulled up a picture. “Thanks.”

You drew a picture of a rough giraffe, softening it some before adding colors.

“You’re really good at that,” he said.

“The characters are easy. Backgrounds can get boring,” you said. You went back to your original set of pages and worked quietly, Jensen watching carefully. “Yes?”

“Just wanna spend time with you is all,” he said, resting his head on your shoulder.

“Okay, baby,” you said. You worked for another hour, Jensen asking the occasional question but mostly staying silent and close by. After you sent off the pages for review you turned to him, Jensen offering a soft smile in return. “All set with work for the day.”

“Awesome,” he said.

“Where’s the munchkins?”

“A movie,” he said. You ran your fingers through his hair and he leaned into it. “Tell me a secret.”

“A secret? I don’t think I have too many of those left from you,” you said. He opened his eyes and looked at you through his lashes. “What?”

“You said you got this on vacation,” he said, holding up his wrist, the bracelet you’d put on him two weeks ago still there. “When we were down there, I was talking to Ray and he kinda implied it wasn’t just a souvenir.”

“I was upset that day when he bought it for me. It meant I was safe was all,” you said.

“How long after did your mom…”

“A few months. She went on bed rest after that trip.”

“Y/N, I know when you’re holding back, honey. I would never judge or tell anyone anything. You know that.”

“You got hurt because you lost someone and you got hurt and it sucks right? But it’s kinda like something happened and then you heal from it right?”

“Yeah…” he said. “What don’t I know?”

“You know how anxious you were to get in the car and drive down to the beach?” you asked as he nodded. “You’ve never been afraid of a person, Jensen. It’s like that feeling...but everyday and you’re expected to live your life normally when you constantly have that over your head.”

He was quiet, glancing past you as the room grew darker from some passing clouds outside.

“Canada wasn’t the first time you saw your father since you were adopted, was it,” he said.

“You wouldn’t believe what a good lawyer and shitty laws will do for a piece of shit like that,” you said.

“You were a kid.”

“With zero physical evidence. Everything was circumstantial. So he got out and he came to apologize or some bullshit and Ray decked him.”

“The more I learn about Ray, the more I like him.”

“My mom kicked him in the nuts.”

“I really like that woman,” he said. You smiled and he moved his chair closer, pulling you into his lap. “I don’t mean to make you talk about your dad. I was curious was all.”

He went to take off the bracelet when you put a hand over it.

“I don’t want to remind you of something bad, sweetheart.”

“Like I said, I was upset. Very upset and in public and I went down to the beach to try to hide away. Ray bought that for me and told me I was safe when he put it on me. All it means to me is that you’re safe.”

“What about you? What do you have?” he asked quietly. You cocked your head and moved your hand to rest over his chest. “Alright, sort of a dumb question.”

“Not dumb,” you said, trailing your fingers down his chest.

“Guess you’ll just have to stay as close as humanly possible.”

“I don’t have a problem with that,” you said.

“Do you have a restraining order against your father?”

“No but that’s only because Ray managed to get him kicked out of the country. He found some loophole law. He was born in the Yukon so technically he’s not American and he got him kicked back.”

“Scratch that. Ray is my new favorite person,” he said. “If only we could send him someplace we’ll never visit like...a deserted island. Or Hell.”

“I appreciate the thought but I’m not scared of him anymore,” you said. “I am however afraid our plans of lunch at the brewery are going to get rained out.”

“We can enjoy ourselves right here. I’ve never heard a complaint yet about my grilling.”

“You know what? I got the perfect idea.”

“Okay,” said Jensen, sliding the foil packet off the grill and onto JJ’s plate. You’d decided to have lunch on the grill, sitting out under the covered back patio off the playroom. It was pouring rain but you were plenty dry there. “Chicken, marinara sauce and cheese. Then we got chicken, ketchup and baby carrots for Arrow. Zeppy wanted to try barbecue sauce and onion which sounded good to me and then Y/N went for the salmon and lemon.”

You helped the twins open up their foil packets and get their food on their plates, dicing up the chicken for them before going to your own plate.

“Daddy,” said Zeppelin while he chewed on a big piece of chicken. Jensen hummed and worked on his own food. “Can we play race cars after lunch?”

“Sure,” he said, JJ shaking her head.

“I don’t wanna play cars,” she said. Zeppelin stared at her and his bottom lip wobbled. “You’re a cry baby.”

“JJ, that’s rude,” you said, Jensen glancing at you and nodding. “Apologize to your brother.”

“Sorry,” she mumbled. 

“We’re gonna play cars after lunch and you’re welcome to join,” said Jensen. “Your brother goes along with what you girls want to play quite a bit so I think you can do the same for him.”

“I still don’t wanna play cars,” she mumbled.

“You play cars with the Padalecki boys all the time,” you said.

“Not little kid cars,” she said. “He doesn’t know how to play right.”

You saw Zeppelin getting upset again and sighed.

“There’s no wrong way to play,” you said. “Zepp’s littler than you. You gotta be the big sister and do what he wants sometimes.”

“Mom would have played dress up,” she grumbled. “Not stupid cars.”

“Enough,” said Jensen. “You’re old enough to know better.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“Your brother wants to play cars. We played horses all morning long and you barely let him have a turn at that so like I said, we’re gonna play what he wants and you are welcome to join us but if you don’t want to, you can play something else,” he said. 

“Baby,” she said under her breath. Jensen didn’t catch it but you did.

“JJ you’re in timeout after lunch. Ten minutes,” you said. 

“I didn’t-”

“You just called him a baby. You want to make it fifteen?” you asked.

“You’re not my mom! You can’t give me timeouts,” she said.

“Half an hour now,” said Jensen. She stared at him and he shook his head. “Eat your lunch.”

Zeppelin spent half of it crying quietly and JJ barely touched hers before she was following Jensen inside. You threw your head back and sighed before you went inside to get some tissues. When you came back out Arrow was hugging him tightly.

“Let’s clean you up, buddy,” you said as you squatted down beside them. She let go of him and you wiped off his face and helped him blow his nose. “Feel better?”

“We can play dress up,” he said. You picked him up and hoisted him on your hip. 

“We’re gonna play cars. Arrow, do you want to play with us?” you asked. She smiled and nodded. “Hey how about you go wash your hands and then you can bring out the bucket of cars and we’ll play out here. How’s that sound Zepp?”

“Okay,” he said. Arrow went inside and you carried him around as you collected the trash and threw it in the bag you brought out. You tied it up and left it in the corner to put in the bin later before you you walked to the edge of the covered patio, rain coming down at a decent rate. “Y/N you’re my mom right?”

“I’m one of your moms,” you said. “I’m gonna adopt you that way everybody can know I am though.”

“Cool,” he said softly, resting his head on your shoulder. “Mom can we play in the rain?”

“Hear any thunder?” you asked. He shook his head. “See any lightning?”

“Nuh uh,” he said.

“Then we can play in the rain all you want,” you said. You walked out to the grass and spun around with him, getting a giggle out of him. “Did you hear that?”

“Hear what?” he asked. You spun around again and he laughed.

“There it is again!” you said. He giggled and you spun around a few times until you were dizzy and took a seat. He hugged you and kissed your cheek as you noticed Jensen leaning against the post of the patio. He was smiling and you hopped up with Zeppelin, waving him around in the air until you were back under cover. You set him down and he ran over to Arrow, picking out his favorite cars from the bucket and handing her some. 

“Well that might have been one of the cutest things I’ve ever seen,” he said. 

“You took a picture, didn’t you.”

“Oh several,” he said. He glanced back at the twins and then at you. “It clicked for you just now didn’t it.”

“Being a mom? Yeah.”

“You didn’t look to me on how to discipline JJ and you made him feel better and you made him laugh. You went full mom there and I’ve kinda been waiting for that.”

“I know it’s just playing they’re arguing over but I just hate...there is so much of you in him,” you said.

“I know and that feeling will never go away but it means you love ‘em and loving them is my only requirement for us working so this was actually a really good thing.”

“Those two are so sweet,” you said.

“It’s the twin thing. Oh what fun we have to look forward to when they are teenagers and they lie to us for one another,” he chuckled.

“Yeah but I’ll take it. Did you really give her a half hour timeout?”

“Fifteen minutes. She needs to share more and he doesn’t like confrontation so he goes along with what she wants but it’s not her road or the highway.”

“She’s been a little…”

“I know. Since we told them about the engagement,” he said. “We gotta talk to her on her own.”

“Let me take a crack at her first?” you asked.

“You got a hunch?”

“I don’t think having a mom again is a problem. I think the idea of losing a mom again is.”

“That makes sense considering she was attached to your hip before all this.”

“I’m gonna go see if I can get to the bottom of this. Now go play cars,” you said. He kissed your cheek and you headed inside, drying off some with a towel in the laundry room before you went up to JJ’s bedroom. You knocked and cracked open the door, catching her splayed out on her bed. “JJ. Can we talk?”

She rolled and put her back to you. You sat down on the edge of her bed and took a deep breath.

“You know your brother did what you wanted all day. You have to share,” you said. She didn’t say anything and you lay back on the bed, turning your head. She rolled back the other way and you sat up. She rolled again and you tilted your head back. “JJ do you want me to be your mom?”

“No,” she mumbled. 

“Are you lying?” She didn’t move and you sat back, her face scrunched up. “Are you scared if I’m your mom something bad will happen to me?”

“I don’t want two dead moms,” she said. 

“I have two dead moms,” you said. She blinked her eyes open and sat up. “My first mom, I never met her. She died giving birth to me.”

“You only had a dad when you were born?” she asked. You nodded and pulled her into your lap. “Did he get married again?”

“No. My dad was very mad my mom died. He took that out on me. He was a bad guy. He went to jail and I got adopted by my mom when I was your age. Ray was her boyfriend. He acted like he was my dad in a lot of ways. I was sixteen when my mom died. I understand it hurts, sweetie, and that it’s scary and you don’t ever want to feel like that again.”

“I thought if I was bad you and daddy wouldn’t...and then I don’t have to feel bad again.”

“I am so sorry honey but you can’t stop that feeling from never coming back. The only way you could not get it would be to not love anyone or anything and that’s not a life at all. It’s the price you pay for loving someone. Your mom was an accident. But Daddy is young and I’m even younger and I promise you will not have to feel that way about me for a very, very long time.”

“How long?”

“How about fifty years?”

“Fifty years? That’s forever,” she said. 

“I’ll give you fifty years if I can be your mom and you stop picking on Zepp. Deal?”

“Okay. I’m sorry I made him cry.”

“I’m not the one that needs an apology,” you said. “Now do you want stay in here all by yourself or do you want to come play with us?”

“I can play?” she asked.

“Absolutely,” you said. You got up and carried her down on your back, setting her down to let her run off out to the porch. Jensen got up from his seat and held up a finger, ducking back inside to where you were.

“That’s what I like to see,” he said as she gave Zeppelin a hug and he handed her a car.

“I did have to promise not to die for fifty years.”

“Fifty? You got off easy. I had to promise a hundred after the accident,” he chuckled. “I should have noticed she was scared.”

“I have more experience being a scared little girl than you do. I got experience with letting people get close again too,” you said.

“How’s that working out for ya?” he smirked.

“He’s lucky he’s hot,” you said. He threw his arm over your shoulders and grinned. “Do you want to get married in the fall?”

“This fall?” he asked.

“Can we pull it off that fast?” you asked.

“Yeah. We don’t have to book a venue which is the hardest part. I don’t see why not. What’s the rush?” he asked.

“It’s easier to adopt them if we’re married,” you said. “I don’t really want to wait longer than we have to if that’s alright.”

“I’d say let’s go drive down to city hall and get a justice of the peace right now if I knew my mother wouldn’t kill me for it. How about I call up the lawyer and ask him to start prepping the paperwork as if we already were so it’s all set to go,” he said.

“You have a lawyer?” you asked. “They’d do that?”

“Y/N, honey. My taxes alone frighten me not to mention I own a business with employees and what qualifies as a business write off still confuses me and wait you don’t have a lawyer for your book deal?”

“Should I have one?” 

“Greg is your lawyer now,” he said. “He’s good. He’ll do all the paperwork for us.”

“Oh good cause all the forms online were confusing the hell out of me,” you said. He shook his head and pulled you in close. 

“Silly goose,” he said, a loud boom of thunder shaking the house. “Let’s get the crew inside before it pours.”

“Who wants to build a fort?” you asked that afternoon. JJ jumped up and down on the couch and Jensen walked in with an arm full of blankets and sheets. Three little hands shot up and Jensen lazily tossed the blankets on the couch, covering the three of them.

“Hm, where’d those three munchkins run off to…” he said, Arrow ducking her head out first, hair all in her face. Jensen giggled and she rolled her eyes, the other two climbing out. “Alright. I’m gonna grab clothes pins and a few more things. You guys start designing.”

You stood back and let JJ organize, figuring out her first choice of blanket for a roof was too small. Jensen returned with a bag of clips, some twine and the step ladder, wrapping his arms around your waist and resting his head on your shoulder.

“How they doing?” he whispered.

“Picking out the roof,” you said, Arrow rushing over and grabbing his hand as Zeppelin climbed on JJ’s back and held up a sheet over the two of them with one hand. You smirked and she let out another eye roll.

“Daddy, can you pick up Zeppy so then he can put the blankie up? I told them they’re too small,” she said.

“Sure,” he said. “Tell me where you want it to go.”

Twenty minutes later the family room was covered with sheets, tied off to the stairs, chairs, the ceiling fan after Jensen broke out the larger ladder to get up there and assured you it wouldn’t bring the whole thing crashing down. 

“Can we sleep in here tonight?” asked JJ. 

“I don’t see why not,” you said. “There’s plenty of room on the couch. We’ll bring down your comforters when it’s bedtime,” you said.

“Can we watch Cars?” asked Zeppelin, glancing at JJ. 

“Okay,” she said. She gave him a hug and picked him up, Jensen smiling to himself as he looked on.

“Can we get pizza for dinner like a real sleepover?” asked Arrow. 

“We did cook up all the chicken at lunch,” you said, giving Jensen a side eye.

“Yeah we’ll get one,” he said. “Why don’t you turn on your movie okay? We’ll be right there.”

You let Jensen pull you into the kitchen, smirking as he picked you up and sat you on the counter.

“Seems like today’s crisis has been averted,” you said.

“I’m sure they’ll go back to tormenting each other tomorrow but I’ll take it,” he said, reaching into the drawer next to you, pulling out a menu. “So. You interested in pizza?”

“Oh that looks interesting,” you said, taking the pamphlet out of his hand and tapping at a special. “One cheese, one speciality, boneless wings and garlic bread? My little carb loving heart is in love.”

“She’s not the only one,” he said, leaning up on his tip toes and kissing you. 

“Are you coming?” groaned JJ from in the fort. You shook your head and Jensen kissed your neck, even nibbling before he pulled back. You smacked his chest and he set the menu down, giving you a wink.

“We’re coming in right now. Don’t wait for us kiddo.”

You woke up sweating, Jensen shushing you, arms wrapped around you. You took a deep breath and caught the clock said it was almost three. You turned in his arms and buried your head in his chest, his hand rubbing up and down your back.

“You’re okay. Bad dream is all,” he said softly. You nodded and started to relax, flinching when there was more thunder. “Hey, it’s okay. Nothing’s gonna get ya.”

The thunder shook the house and you tensed up. Jensen pulled the covers over both your heads and you crammed in as close as humanly possible when more thunder hit.

“Honey look at me. Please look at me.” You lifted your head and saw a horrible face in front of you, a scream ripping out of your throat.

“Y/N,” you heard as you woke up absolutely drenched, Jensen’s hands on your face. “Honey, talk to me. Can you hear me?”

“Night terror,” you said quietly. 

“Yeah, JJ used to have them. I didn’t know adults could get them,” he said. 

“Can I have a cold washcloth? And some water?” you asked. He got out of bed and padded into the bathroom in his boxers, settling back into bed and handing you the water. You drank it down while he wiped off your face and neck, running it over your head. “Thanks.”

“You okay?” he asked. 

“Mostly feel embarrassed.” He frowned and you put the glass on your nightstand, staring down at your sweaty shirt. 

“Should I call Ray?”

“It was a stupid nightmare. I’m fine,” you said.

“You were sat up eyes wide open and talking and shouting and I couldn’t wake you up,” he said. “I know adults really shouldn’t be getting night terrors so maybe something triggered you or something during the day.”

“I know my triggers and I know when it’s just a stupid nightmare. Back off,” you said. You got out from under the hot covers and went outside to the balcony, the air nice and cool from the storm earlier. The slide of the door was loud in the the quiet and you rubbed your arm. “I’m sorry.”

“I’ve seen you have nightmares. That was a lot worse,” he said.

“I thought I saw someone watching the house earlier.”

“What?”

“It was the neighbor’s kid, the teenager. It was his friend and he came over late but I thought...it freaked me out. That on top of thinking about the fact my father is not rotting in a jail cell most likely sent me over the edge,” you said. He walked in front of you, resting his hands on your arms. “I’m okay. Needed some air was all.”

“Alright. Tell me if something like that happens again?” he asked. You hummed and he gave you a kiss. “Okay, sweetheart. Let’s head on back to bed.”

“What do you mean?” you growled into the phone the next evening. Jensen lifted his head from his book in the family room and you walked away, stepping out to the private patio area on the side of the house. “That’s not possible.”

“It’s been fifteen years. He has every legal right to be in the country.”

“In the country! He got an apartment seven minutes from where I live!” you said. “I have little kids here, Finn. Tell me there’s something I can do.”

“I can get a restraining order-”

“That doesn’t mean shit to him. I need him fucking deported. I need him gone.”

“Y/N, you know me. I have never agreed to it but he paid his debt as it was assigned and he quietly followed the law. He did what he was supposed to and I’m sorry but until he does something, I can’t do anything besides help you and your fiance’s family get a restraining order.”

“So until he does something horrible again, I can’t do anything about it.”

“Y/N.”

“No Finn. I appreciate the heads up but...I have to go.”

You hung up and squeezed your phone tight. He knew where you lived. He was minutes away and there was absolutely zero help until something went wrong. You sat on a bench and bounced your leg. Nothing could go wrong. You couldn’t let anything go wrong. Who knew what the son of a bitch would do to any one of them.

You stopped bouncing your leg just as you heard the door open. You lifted your head and stood, spinning around to Jensen standing there.

“Everything alright?”

“Actually no.”

“Who was on the phone?”

“My ex,” you said, swallowing. You crossed your arms and thought of the things Jensen had told you about acting and getting in character and all that. You were gonna destroy him. Fuck you were going to end up shattering him into a thousand pieces he’d never put back together. 

You couldn’t really lie just to keep them away from him, could you? 

You saw Arrow run past in the house and made your face hard. Broken heart but safe kids was worth it.

“I thought you didn’t talk to him anymore,” said Jensen. You turned up your chin and he smiled. “You are the worst actress in the world. Who was it really?”

“I think we’re moving too fast and I want to take a break and I would appreciate it if you gave me my space to figure this out on my own.”

“Uh, what?” he said. You brushed past him and he followed you in, all the way up to your bedroom. You got out a bag and he flipped it shut. “What the hell is going on? Who was on the phone?”

“My boyfriend,” you said. He stared at you and you sighed. “You’re a great guy but I’m sorry. I can’t do the house and kids thing. I want to go see the world and not be tied down and you’re just...you’re too damn old for me.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Maybe you should have trusted your first instincts when you saw me and Doug,” you said. He stared at you while you shoved some clothes in a bag. You slung it over your shoulder and he caught the backside of it. You took off your ring and put it on the table by the door, Jensen dropping his hand. “I just can’t do this anymore. It wasn’t you. I’m sorry. I really need to go.”

______

A/N: Read Part 16 here!

[dollslayer]

Artistic Intention

Artist!Steve x Reader

Summary: Steve's doing well in his life drawing class, but a new muse throws him for a loop in the back supply room.

W/C: 2,374

Warnings: NO MINORS, p in v smut, unprotected sex, public sex, breeding kink if you squint, swearing

A/N: Hey! I wrote this for @buckyownsmylife 1st anniversary challenge! I love me a good AU so I chose Artist AU+ exhibitionism. Happy tumblr-versary! I made Steve a shy boi in this lol. If you liked this fic pls reblog/comment!! Check out my other fics too! Cheers!

Main Masterlist

It’s 1:45pm and Steve is desperately trying to weave his way through the crowd of people before him. His art folio hits everyone and thing as he makes feeble attempts to apologize to everyone for the bulkiness of the case. He can’t be too apologetic though, he’s running late for his 2pm life drawing class and if he doesn’t make it the professor will close the door in his face.

This is the longest 15 minutes in Steve’s life, he figures. He finally makes it up the steps and jogs up the stairs. His folio hits his leg, he winces but doesn’t stop, he’s only got a few minutes to make it up to the second floor and get himself situated behind an easel. He’s nearly out of breath when he makes it to the second floor and he’s trying to check his watch while running for the door. Two minutes.

Steve bursts through the doors and exhales loudly, he’s not sure he’s ever felt so relieved. His feeling of relief is short lived and quickly replaced with embarrassment as he realizes every pair of eyes in the room is on him. Every pair except for one. The new model for class this week, you slowly turn your head to reveal sharp eyes and a coy smile. He feels himself blush under your gaze and mutters an apology before getting settled in an easel directly in front of you.

He tries his best to focus on getting his paper and charcoals set out in an effort to shrug off the mixture of humiliation and lingering anxiety he had about being late. He feels his heartbeat begin to steady and he lets himself relax a little bit.

“Good afternoon, everyone. We have a new model in class this week, as I’m sure you’ve noticed. She’ll be keeping her current pose for one hour and repositioning for the second half of class. Mr. Rogers, since you had no problem running late I assume you’ll have no problem staying late as well. You’ll clean up after class.” The professor concludes with a short nod.

Steve sighs but nods his head in acknowledgement. He catches you smirking in amusement again at him and he can’t help but to blush all over again. He feels just like he did in high school, embarrassing himself in front of pretty girls. He sighs and picks up a piece of charcoal.

Steve decides to get a proper look at you and almost regrets it when he chokes on his own breath. You’re gorgeous, you’re coy and charming, you’re a muse. He’s still blushing because you’re naked, and beautiful and the feeling of humiliation hits him even more. He’s been in this class before, he knows the models will be naked but none of them had ever caught his attention as more than a subject, none of them were you.

He takes his time admiring your natural curves and appreciates your figure. You are so full of natural beauty, your bare face is perfectly flawed and the sun shining through the window highlights your skin tone. He can see why you were chosen to model for class, you’re perfect. He has to discreetly adjust himself and shuffles his jacket into his lap as he feels his pants tighten. He’s flustered all over again and realizes everyone else is already ahead of him. He puts charcoal to paper and gets to work.

____

As class goes on Steve’s sketch is coming along nicely. He can’t bring himself to look at you for more than a few seconds at a time for fear of getting hard again. When he sends furtive glances your way he catches you looking back at him with that smile of yours. He swears at one point you raise an eyebrow at him like you’re amused by him. He brushes it off and keeps drawing.

Class comes and goes much faster than he anticipated. He wants to pack up and get out as quickly as he can when he remembers that he has to clean up the room. He lets out a groan and waits for everyone else to leave. Now it’s only you, him, and the professor who are left in the room.

“Mr. Rogers I’ve got to get out of here, I trust you can put easels away without incident?” The professor asks. Steve nods and the professor turns to you. “Thank you for your work today, you can collect your pay from the front office. I look forward to having you as a model for this class.”

You smile and nod, waving goodbye to him. By now you’ve slipped on a robe and are reaching for your bag but it feels like you’re lingering. It’s just now that Steve realizes the two of you are alone. He swallows thickly, trying not to pay attention to you out of the corner of his eye. He begins to pack away his own drawing but not before giving it one final assessment. He can’t help himself from his own critical eye, analyzing mistakes and appreciating triumphs.

“Is that supposed to be me?”

Steve jumps in surprise, you’re peering right over his shoulder. He’s caught off guard by your presence and also by your voice, do you always sound this sultry?

He swallows and nods before taking a deep breath. Wiping his sweaty palms on his jeans he turns to face you.

“Uh, yeah. Yes it is. I don’t think it’s very good but I’m trying” He anxiously starts making excuses, assuming you hate it.

But you don’t. You just smile thoughtfully at him and nod.

“It’s good. At least, I think it is.”

“Th-thanks, thank you.”

“Do you always cut it that close or were you just hoping to stay late with me?”

Steve sputters at your boldness. He has to remind himself that he’s not that scrawny, measly kid he used to be. But he can’t help but feel like he is with his sweaty palms and short breaths.

“I, I um, I didn’t realize there’d be a new model. Was kind of expecting the old one. Not- not that there’s anything wrong with you, of course! I, sorry I didn’t mean to imply that, you’re- you’re beautiful too, you’re perfect really, I just. Oh jesus.” He spews the words out faster than his brain can keep up and he’s making a complete fool of himself.

He can’t bear to look at you, so he starts closing up easels and stacking stools. He doesn’t notice you ogling his muscles through his tight t-shirt.

“You think I’m beautiful?” You ask innocently.

“I-, um, yes. I think you’re very beautiful, if you don’t mind me saying so.” Steve answers honestly.

He moves some stools to the large supply room in the back of the classroom and you follow him.

“I think you’re beautiful too. And cute. You’re practically falling all over yourself, it’s sweet”

Are you talking to him? He still sees himself as he was back then, having a hard time thinking that anyone would look at him and find him attractive. It’s why he’s so beside himself now. You’re so completely beautiful and self-assured, there’s no way you’re talking to him. He sets down the stack he’s carrying and realizes you’re much closer than he thought. You’re inches away.

“What do you like the most about me? Is it my body? Don’t think I didn’t notice you readjusting your pants at the beginning of class.” You move even closer and Steve thinks you must be able to hear his heart beat because it’s about to come right out of his chest.

Your hands are on his chest and you have to lean up on your tip-toes for your lips to meet his ear.

“What do you say? You and me in this supply room? There’s hardly anyone here. Come on”

Steve feels like he’s dreaming, he has to check if he is. But then your hand reaches for his dick through his pants and he nearly doubles over from the sensation. He’s never been with anyone so brash and confident, your touch leaves a burning trail on his body.

“But- but what if someone comes in and sees?” He says, using every last bit of coherent reasoning he has.

“Isn’t that what makes it so fun?”

Oh, God. You. You. Smiling that devilish smile at him. He was weak in the knees and you took the opportunity to push him backwards onto a spare desk. You pulled him by the shirt collar to meet your lips and he let out a noise of surprise. Steve pushes his tongue into your mouth and lets out an obscene moan. You feel so good. He knew you’d feel good but not this good.

Steve’s large hands come to your waist and venture lower until he has a handful of your ass and grabs. You let out a little moan and nudge your knee between his legs and he grinds against it. You pull back to catch your breath when your hands go to the ties of your robes.

“We’re a little overdressed, don’t you think?”

Steve doesn’t need to be asked twice as he pulls his shirt over his head. Jeans have never felt so uncomfortable and he’s frantically trying to get himself down to his boxers. He swears he goes slack jawed when he looks back up at you. He’s already seen you naked, he just stared at you naked for hours, but you’re just as gorgeous as before but it’s the way you’re looking at him. Like he’s desirable, almost like he’s a piece of meat. It makes him feel wanted and reassured and he feels himself grow harder.

Your hands slip beneath the elastic of his boxers and slowly slide them down his legs. He can’t help but flush when you let out a small gasp at the size of him. He doesn’t want to get too big of an ego with it but he’s always known he was… gifted.

Before he can let anything go to his head he lets out his own soft gasp as you stroke him languidly. He can’t control his hips as they cant up into your hand. You grab his hand and quickly lead his fingers to your dripping pussy. Steve nearly melts when he feels how wet you are and slides two fingers in easily. He’s pumping them in and out and you let out tiny mewls as you kiss his neck.

There’s no more time for preamble though, you two need to be quick if you don’t want to be caught by some unfortunate custodian. You remove your hand from his cock and he takes his fingers out of your pussy and swears you whine a little. Feeling brazen himself, he makes direct eye contact with you and sucks his fingers clean. You bite your lip and squirm while he revels in the taste.

Reluctantly he takes his fingers out of his mouth and gets up to situate you so you’re sitting on the desk. You spread your legs wide for him and he takes in the sight, committing to memory. Maybe he can draw you like this some time. For now he takes a step closer but falters, remembering one fatal flaw in this whole plan.

“I… don’t have a condom”

You don’t look let down at all, you look excited in fact. Shaking your head, you explain to him.

“Doesn’t matter, ‘m on the pill. I wanna feel you cum inside me”

Steve might pass out before he gets the chance, the way you keep talking with that mouth of yours. He wastes no more time and positions himself at your entrance. He has one hand on his dick and the other on the back of your neck when he looks you deep in the eye and impales you fully in one go.

The moan you let out is pornographic and Steve uses his newly freed hand to cover your mouth.

“We have to stay quiet. Can you do that?”

You nod silently and he removes his hand, opting to grab your hip instead.

He pulls back and begins to start pumping into you. He’s steady at first, trying to keep himself from cumming too quickly. Slowly he starts increasing his speed and the force that he uses is causing the legs of the old desk to scrape against the floor.

Your hand reaches and grabs his ass, pushing him deeper into your pussy. You feel so tight wrapped around him with no barrier and he doesn’t know how much longer he can hold out. You’re trying to keep your moans quiet when he kisses you to silence them all together. He’s trying with all his might not to cum before you do.

His fingers find your clit and he starts rubbing it in tight circles. You have a harder time keeping quiet and you’re squeezing him like a vice. The friction on your clit and his dick hitting your G-spot perfectly is causing your eyes to roll in the back of your head.

“‘M gonna cum, please. Please don’t stop” You beg. Steve feels a wave of power surge over him now that you’re the needy one.

“Go on then, I’m not far behind ya. Wanna feel your pussy cum on my cock.”

With a few moments more he has you seeing stars and you claw at his back and pull him close to you. He continues on in his movements and starts pounding into you in earnest chasing his own release. All you can do is hold on for dear life.

Steve makes one final thrust before he’s cumming deep inside you. The rush of warmth is welcome to you and you kiss his jaw as he tries to catch his breath. The only sound being both of your heavy breathing. Hopefully no one heard you.

Steve can’t believe what just happened. He met a gorgeous girl and she propositioned him in a public place all in the span of two hours. He realizes just how far he’s come from who he used to be. He looks down at you, your noses touching.

“So, what’s your name?”

[boldlyanxious]

Designs on you

Jasonette July prompt 18: design

July

Masterlist

Marinette hadn’t made an appointment but the shop appeared to not be busy. Maybe she could get in pretty quickly. Shocking for how many positive reviews it had. There were a few negative ones but they just seemed like haters. They didn’t even seem like they had been to the shop. Maybe someone just didn’t like a tattoo parlor in the neighborhood.

The door made a quiet tone as she entered. She looked around. It was very clean. Not at all what she had expected from a tattoo parlor. She had only been in one once when she went with Alya. Marinette had chickened out. Alya was getting a tiny fox but Marinette didn’t want to do something little that she didn’t feel connected to. But she hadn’t been ready then to go for a larger piece covering her side like she was now.

She guessed the man who came from the back was the tattoo artist on duty. He was very tall with dark hair. He looked exactly like she would expect. His arms were muscled and covered in tattoos. She briefly wondered if he had any art under the shirt that stretched tightly over his muscled chest. She pulled her thoughts away and looked up at him. He seemed surprised to see her. Probably not surprised at business, but surprised at the tiny woman in dainty business apparel walking into the shop.

“You here to get a tattoo?” he asked.

“Yeah.” she said, a bit hesitantly.

He glanced down at the desk. “Did you make an appointment? I don’t have anything in the schedule. ”

“I didn’t make an appointment. I figured I would see what times you had available instead.”

“You’re in luck. I was supposed to be closed today so I don’t have anything scheduled.”

“That’s great. I won’t be able to back out.”

She laughed nervously at her half joke. He eyed her for a moment.

“Are you sure this is what you want? It won’t come off easily.”

“Yes. I made the design years ago. I just get nervous sometimes.”

He nodded and held out his hand to see her design. He looked it over for a moment. Then pulled out some paperwork.

“Standard paperwork for liability and care after.” he added. “It's a nice design. You must have been barely old enough when you designed it.”

“The first version I made when I was 9. I’ve updated it a lot since then. But I’m happy with how it looks now.”

They discussed the process and the design for a few minutes and he made a copy of the design for his records. He made a quick sketch as well for her to approve how he made her design for the transfer. He took her back to the studio room and prepped a space to get started. He made sure she had eaten and stayed hydrated that day and let her know that it would take several hours or they could split it into 2 sessions. She said she would rather do it all at once so he just let her know to discuss when she needed breaks.

Marinette flinched when he put his hand on her bare skin. Even knowing it was going to happen didn’t stop it from tickling. He paused while she worked on stopping her squirming so he could get the transfer applied to get ribs. She focused on holding still and expecting his touch. He seemed very focused on his work. She tried not to think about how nice his fingers felt brushing against her skin. Before he began he checked to make sure she was ready and had an idea of what to expect with how she would be laying and the best way to hold herself and breathe.

He was quiet at first and Marinette focused on trying to maintain her position through the stinging. She did her best to remain still as he moved from one side to the other. She was starting to feel stiff and she really wanted to shift but didn’t want to mess it up. She really wanted a break but he said it would be best if he could get a certain amount done before they took a break. She was pretty sure he could tell she was getting restless because his hand moved and put slightly more pressure on her than he had before. She closed her eyes and tilted her head back trying to think of how great it would look when he finished. It was only a few more minutes before he pulled away and told her it was a good time for a break.

She stood and stretched and he offered her some water and a granola bar to help her make it through the rest. She moved around and went into the bathroom to splash her face before she felt ready again. He recommended a few stretches she could do from a poster on his wall that would help her manage to make it through to the next break. He seemed distracted on his phone but when she finished he was ready again. She laid back in the chair with her side exposed as he started up again. It seemed to feel a lot worse when he started again. She stopped most of the noise she wanted to make and instead sucked in a fast breath. Then focused on blowing the air out slowly rather than shifting away.

“Good girl,” he said, before continuing on.

Marinette felt herself flush and she didn’t think it had anything to do with the continuing pain. She tried not to think about the pain but somehow she only noticed his hand as it moved to a different spot on her side. The gentle movement felt like a caress in comparison to the burning feeling left in the wake of the needle. Once they got back into the rhythm he started talking to her.

“So what made you decide that the art needed to go on now rather than later?”

“Well, I’ve wanted it for a long time, but I am making a dress that will show most of the side off. I thought it would look nice showing through.”

“That should do. Do you make a lot of dresses?”

“Yes, actually. I’m a fashion designer.”

“A dress showing off the side doesn’t sound like your everyday dress. Is it for something special?”

“I’ve been designing for a client having a formal event. He invited me to that as a way to expand my business because he was impressed with my work.”

“That should be nice. I like to display the work I’ve done, so if you get a good picture of the tattoo in the dress it could be a good thing for both of us.”

“I’ll make sure to do that.”

He suggested a final break not long later. He said like with the first break it would feel a bit worse right after but it would be easiest for both of them if they had a chance to stretch out a bit. She treated it much the same as the first one, just moving slightly more carefully with more of her side feeling raw. He seemed to be on his phone again, but also watching her a bit more than the first time. She still tried to do a bit of stretching and moving around until he headed back to the tattoo space.

She was prepared for it to be more tender when he started this time so she managed to keep her breathing in check. He moved quickly and carefully filling in the lines with color but also moved to conversation to distract her more quickly this time.

“You drew this when you were a kid still?” he asked.

“Well, the first time I did. This is just the version I settled on. I use it in my designs a lot like a signature.”

“That's some dedication. What made you decide on it?”

“A picture of my parents the day my dad proposed to my mom. It was in Paris, where I’m from, and the chestnut trees were in full bloom. I’ve just always loved the way they looked.”

“I don’t think I even realized chestnut trees bloomed. I guess I just never thought of it.”

“They have a lot of them in Paris. There is basically a blossom season in Paris but chestnut was always my favorite. I tried to confess to my crush when they were blooming back in lycee because I thought it would be romantic.”

“That doesn’t sound like it worked the way you wanted.”

“It was a disaster. I stumbled all over my words and he told me all about how he should bring his crush there. I ended up talking about fabric for 10 minutes before he finally redirected the conversation. When we left he told me I was a great friend.”

With the conversation suddenly going to a place Marinette didn’t like to remember she forgot to focus on her breathing and holding still. She made a pained noise and jumped, grabbing his hand without even thinking. He patted her a bit and rubbed her arm to calm her down. She caught her breath and refocused on her breathing. He waited until she was back into position and held the tattoo needle steady above her before he restarted.

“We only have a few more minutes. It will be a bit rough for you and you will want to move, try to refrain.”

She did well for another few minutes but then she started squirming again. He added pressure to help her relax but she struggled each time the needle moved. He pressed his free arm down on her and said.

“If you can't hold still, I will have to pin you down. I can't have you messing up all my hard work.”

Marinette froze and looked at him wide eyed. He winked but still held steady until she nodded at him to continue. She gripped the side of the chair and closed her eyes. She focused everything on breathing steady and within a few minutes he had stopped again. He spent a few minutes wiping away a bit of blood and ink before showing her the final look before he wrapped it carefully and explained the instructions for care. They went to the counter and paid. He suggested that she return when she wanted to add to the design; she had mentioned wanting it to travel down her thigh too.

“It turned out very nice. You might be my best side piece.” he said.

Marinette stumbled over her goodbye at that. She looked at him but his smirk seemed to suggest he knew exactly what he had said. She reentered the front of the shop and walked back to the counter. She held out a card for him. He took it with a grin. Their fingertips brushed with the exchange but he reached up and gave her hand a gentle squeeze before releasing her hand and taking the card. Marinette met his eyes and held them for a moment before she turned and headed for the door, smiling.

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@jasonette-july-event | @theymakeupfairies | @emjrabbitwolf | @vixen-uchiha | @trythisagainlove | @trippingovermyfeet | @tbehartoo | @adrestar | @zynna

[mmvalentine]

The Bargain Pt 1 | Feysand

Modern AU. Read Part 2

It was not an especially busy or difficult day for Rhys, but still he was tired. Maybe he just hadn't been sleeping well. Some days, the constant blaring of music and the relentless whine of the machines drilled into his brain, and although he loved his job, it was times like these he just wanted to go home.

"Excuse me?"

Rhys looked up. A woman had just walked through the door of the shop. Small build, nervous hands, and no visible ink so far.

"I, ah, have a consult with Rhys?" "That's me," Rhys said. "Feyre?" "Yeah." "Right this way."

Rhys unclipped the small rope that separated the waiting room from the work space. His bench was the one against the west wall, and he led Feyre over to it and pulled up a stool for her. She sat tentatively, another clue that this might be her first time. Rhys leaned his forearms on his bench, and folded his hands.

"So," he said. "You'd like to get a tattoo."

Feyre nodded. "Is this your first one?" he asked her. She nodded again. "Okay, that's alright. You don't have to book anything today, we can just have a chat about what you might like to do."

Feyre have a tight smile, and her eyes looked as tired as he felt. It forged a tiny sort of kinship, and Rhys wanted to smile at her. At least he wasn't the only one struggling through the day. "Thanks," she said. "I appreciate that." Her gaze scanned the bits of paper blu-tacked to the wall behind him. "Are they all yours?"

Rhys glanced over his shoulder, and nodded. "Yep, mostly old sketches from other people's tattoos. Do you know what you might like to get?"

Feyre's eyes continued to track over the wall. "Mm, not exactly. I... I never really thought about being tattooed before, but things have been... kinda hectic lately. And suddenly I found myself craving something permanent."

She met his eyes, finally, and he sat and read their blue-grey contents for a moment. Wondered briefly what made this stranger so sad.

"I can understand that," Rhys said eventually. "Some people think tattooing is trashy and rebellious, but it traces back to ancient rituals from cultures all over the world. It can be a significant way of reclaiming your own body."

Something lit in Feyre's eyes at the last comment. "I would really like that," she said.

"Okay," said Rhys. "Well, if you don't know what exactly you want yet, are there pictures you've seen that you liked? Did you book in with me for a specific reason?" "I've been following you online for a while," Feyre said. "I like a lot of your pattern work. Uh," she paused and dug through her bag for her phone. "Maybe something like these ones?"

She showed Rhys a few pictures from his social media sites that she had saved. Arm and leg sleeves of blackwork patterns and shading, most of which had taken long-haul sessions to complete. Rhys raised his eyebrows.

"You want something like this for your first tattoo?" he asked. "I mean, we can do it sure, but a lot of people get something small to begin with."

Feyre blushed. "Maybe not quite that big," she said. "Maybe just like, elbow to wrist." She brushed her hand down her arm as she said it, and Rhys held out his hand.

"May I?"

Feyre extended her arm, and Rhys pushed back her sleeve. Took her little hand in his, turning her this way and that. Her skin was pale and smooth, no visible scars or skin irritations. A clean, blank canvas.

"We can do that," Rhys agreed. "If you do want to go ahead, I'll book you in for a few sessions. Maybe three or so, depending on how we go. They'd be once a month, a few hours at a time if you're up for it."

Feyre took a deep breath, and then nodded firmly.

"Let's book it in," she said. "Are you sure? You don't have to decide today," Rhys told her. "I'm sure," Feyre said. "Okay," Rhys replied. "Well, it's $100 deposit, but my next available appointment is three months from now. Is that okay?" "Yeah, I can wait." "Alright, cool. And then we can make you a regular booking for the following three months. If you even need that long." "Sounds good," Feyre said, and handed over the cash. Rhys wrote her a receipt, and put her in the reception desk calendar. "I'll draw something up for you and email it to you closer to the time."

But Feyre shook her head. "You don't have to," she said. "I like everything you make." Rhys chuckled. "Okay well, they're pretty free-flowing designs so we can make changes on the day too." "Okay. Thanks. I guess I'll see you in three months." "See you then," Rhys said, and shook her hand before she left.

It took Rhys forty minutes to pack up his station, put his coat and scarf on, and walk out the door. It took him a further ten minutes, when he was half way home, for him to have dropped his work professionalism enough for him to realise that Feyre, with her shyness and her tiredness and her determination, was just gorgeous.

He stopped still on the sidewalk, misting rain collecting in his hair, and replayed her face in his mind until someone bumped into him, and he walked the rest of the way home and found that he was looking forward to seeing her again.

****

Ohhhh yes it's a new multi chapter fic, hello nerves. I was trying to come up with something new and then it turns out past me wrote this idea in my phone. I know there's not much in it yet but bear with me?

MASTERLIST

TAGLIST: @ghostlyrose2 @highladysith @stardelia @feysand-loml @tillyrubes10 @ratabrasileira @live-the-fangirl-life @maybekindasortaace @annejulianneh111 @thebonecarver @rowaelinismyotp @loosingdreams @whythefuckdoiexist @inejsarrow @swankii-art-teacher @sjmships @courtofjurdan @teddytdr @thalia-2-rose @positivewitch

[startanewdream]

It comes with the age

Summary: The thing about having birthdays is that you get older.

Or James Potter is not ready for his first white hair.

(Jily Lives AU)

Read below or on AO3:

It’s there.

James thought he had caught a glimpse of it in the mirror a few days ago, but he had accounted for just a strange reflex of the light. He had even searched for it in the mirror later - when he was alone, when no one would witness his moment of self-doubt -, but he hadn’t found it.

He was sure he had just imagined it.

Until today, when he was leaving the bathroom and checked himself in the mirror distractedly. On the morning of his birthday, as if the powers from beyond had decided to mess with him.

It’s there, a foreigner that has no right to be there and still is shining lazily and brightly against the dark locks around it.

His first white hair.

What should he do? Take it out?

He remembers teasing Remus a lifetime ago - though now he feels a lot more compassionate for Moony, whose hair was sprinkled with grey even before he was twenty - that if he took out a grey hair, another ten would appear in its place. It was Sirius that came up with it, so James is not sure he believes it, but he can’t take any chances.

One white hair is one more than he’d like to have until he was fifty at least. He just turned thirty. That’s way too young to have grey hair.

He takes a comb, something he doesn’t remember ever doing in this bathroom, and tries to arrange his hair for the first time in years (the last time was before his first date with Lily; Sirius almost laughed to death watching his attempt to straighten his hair and James had given up - whatever had possessed Lily to accept to go out with him, she clearly didn’t have a problem with his messy hair).

It helps to hide that white hair in the middle of the black strands, but then he turns his head and the light catches it again, exposing that revealing strand of hair. It seems to glow with the light, a bright silver sign yelling to the world: here, come look at it, James Potter has white hair.

It’s not that he is vain about his own hair - that would be Sirius, no question -, it’s just that its blackness was always part of it. If he was a fugitive, his character sketch would consist of his hazel eyes behind the rectangular glasses and his messy dark hair.

Dark hair. Not grey.

He needs to do something about it. It’s urgent.

He goes back to his room, searching on his bedside table for the ink they always leave there for some emergency letter. The pot is near empty and he files a mental note to replenish it later, but now he has more pressing matters.

He goes to the bathroom again, carefully opening the inkpot and pinching a little between his fingers. Then his other free hand grabs carefully the white hair, raising it; just a little bit of ink and it will all be fine -

'James? What are you doing?'

He lets the white hair fall immediately, his hand already messing his hair nervously and he turns to Lily with the most confident smile he can manage.

'Hi, love', he says, which makes Lily raise her eyebrows at him. It's really unusual for him to call her like that.

'You are taking long', she says slowly. 'Harry and I have your breakfast ready'.

'I'll be in a minute, just go downstairs -'

'Are you okay?'

'Yeah, yeah'.

'Then why is your hand covered with ink?'

James grimaces; his hand was hidden behind him, but the mirror - that treacherous thing that's exposing all his secrets today - showed the reflex, of course.

'Just trying something', he says nervously. 'Checking how I would look with a moustache, see?'

He draws a moustache around above his mouth with his hand, all curly at the end, and grins at Lily, expecting it to satisfy her curiosity - maybe Lily will just look at it as some weird prank.

'How do I look?'

'Classical', Lily answers amusedly. 'Now, not that I don't appreciate your effort, but what were you really doing?'

James sighs, defeated, and he sits on the closed toilet seat.

'I am old', he admits heavily. Lily blinks.

'Yes', she agrees carefully. 'Getting old is what happens on birthdays'.

'Not just because of it, but… look at it', he lowers his head.

'Hum… what should I be looking at?'

'Stop being nice to me, Lily. I know what is there. I can't deny it anymore'.

'James? I am starting to -'

'I have white hair!'

He raises his eyes, expecting to see the disgust on Lily's face, her realization that the dark-haired young man she married is fading away, but Lily is just blinking, confused.

'That one strand? It's no big deal'.

'Of course it's a big - wait, you already knew?'

'Yeah? You do know we sleep together, right? I saw it a few days ago'.

'And you didn't say anything before?'

'What was there to say? It's one white strand, not an illness'.

'It's a tragedy, that's what it is. It means my glorious youthful days are over'.

'I really doubt it, James', she says soothingly, kissing the top of his hair. 'You seemed pretty glorious last night', she winks at him and James feels smug despite himself.

The night before had been rather intense, he couldn't deny it; a very good start to his thirties, if he could say so himself.

And then there is something almost wistful sparkling in Lily's eyes, the remains of an old fear he always saw during the war.

'And I am glad you are old', she whispers, and when he opens his mind to retort, she lets out a soft laugh. 'More experienced, then. I mean… I am happy we are getting older together'.

'That's what we promised in our wedding vows', he remembers.

'To grow old and grumpy together', she repeats, eyes glistening. 'So… It makes me happy to see this one white hair. To know what it means. I hope to see many more'.

'Oh, fancying a grey-haired husband, Mrs. Potter?'

'If he is you, that's all I want', Lily assures him softly, and James grins back, raising his head to allow their lips to meet.

It's a very nice birthday kiss, and then he raises without interrupting it, pressing Lily closer to him, thinking that maybe he can also get a morning quality time for his birthday…

'Dad? Mom?', there is a cry coming from the bedroom.

They break apart with a familiar sigh - Harry always has impeccable timing; Lily winks at him, a promising gleam in her eyes, and James tries not to look too flustered.

'Here, Harry', he says nicely, leaving the bathroom. Harry is at the door of the room, his arms crossed and a grimace on his face.

'You were kissing, right?', he says, sounding properly appealed by the idea.

'A birthday kiss is a very good gift . One day you may find out', James teases, and Harry doesn't look convinced. James fights back a laugh. When he was nine, he wasn't very much interested in kissing anyone either.

'You were taking too long - wait, why is there a moustache on your face?'

'Oh', James flushes, while by his side Lily giggles, taking out her wand and cleaning his face. 'Just trying a new style. How would I look with a moustache?'

Harry shakes his head.

'I know it's your birthday - but don't'.

'And what's your opinion on grey hair?'

'Much better than a moustache', Harry answers, shrugging. 'I keep telling Sirius he should go grey, but then he goes he is a Black…'

'Wait', James blinks. 'Sirius has grey hair?'

'Oh', Harry stops, a guilty expression on his face. 'I shouldn't - never mind.

'Harry… come on, it cannot be that bad'.

'I shouldn't have seen it - I was just looking in his bathroom drawer for a band-aid, and then I saw it'.

'Saw what?'

'His entire hair collection', Harry whispers, amazed. 'He has a product for everything - more than you, Mom'.

'I knew his hair couldn't be that shiny naturally', James says to himself.

'Yeah, and then there was some hair dye too'. Harry flushes. 'That's when he found me. He told me it was for work, you know, for when he needs to disguise himself, but I am not sure'.

'So Sirius has grey hair then?'

'It comes with age', Lily replies, looking amused by the sudden change in James' humour. 'Now your ego is feeling better, can we go down for your breakfast?'

Harry jumps.

'Please, I am hungry! And we need to give you our gift!'

'We are coming', James promises, smiling. 'You can start, we will be there in a sec'.

Harry nods, grinning, and he runs out of the room; breakfast was always his favourite meal of the day.

'My gift is not a hair dye, right?', James asks playfully, as he and Lily leave the room.

She laughs.

'No, and don't go teasing Sirius about it'.

'I wouldn't dream of', James says, though he is feeling pretty happy that he is still far away from needing hair dye.

Maybe in his forties - if he still has hair; he remembers his father's hair had been wispy, and now he comes to think of it, the edges of his hairline have been thinning out...

'Oh, Merlin', he cries. 'Is my hair falling out?'

[cal-kestis]

You Will Never Be Alone Again | Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

(Epilogue of The Aftermath of Losing Everything)

moodboard/sketch/gifs made by me, please don’t repost :)

Summary: Each morning, he’s there, holding you with his smiling lips pressed against your neck and his heart beating against your chest.  (Set after S2) Rating: M   Word Count: 3018 Warnings/Tags: Soft!Din, FLUFF, no use of ‘Y/N’, suggestive content

[PART I] // [PART II] // [PART III] // [Read on AO3] // [Series Masterlist]

xi. 

It’s strange not waking up by yourself, strange to feel blanketed in a kind of warmth and comfort, not even the early morning suns could radiate.

Sometimes, you think this must be some wild fantasy, a sweet sublime dream that could evaporate into smoke if you dare open your eyes.

But each morning, he’s there, holding you with his smiling lips pressed against your neck and his heart beating against your chest. It’s no secret you love him, it’s written all across your face even with a peripheral glance. Falling for him happened fast and a long, long time ago. Yet in these quiet moments when you’re in the place between wakefulness and sleep, you think you’re still cascading over the crest — falling for the tiniest pieces of him that others would need a magnifying glass to see.

Like those delicate wrinkles that frame the corners of his brown eyes when he looks at you, the way they deepen as he smiles. It’s hard to describe how beautiful those lines are… what they mean. Wrinkles don’t develop overnight. No, he’s smiled enough times for those creases to permanently etch themselves into his skin. It makes your heart soar knowing that, despite all he’s been through, he’d allowed himself those sparse moments of happiness. You’ve hopelessly fallen in love with the lines beside his eyes, evidence that a bright side can exist even in the darkest of hours. 

And still, perhaps something you love even more is the way he kisses you until you forget every night you’d ever lay awake feeling alone in the universe.

It’s all so strange in the best, most beautiful way.

Din has given you so much and you only hope he can see your heart, the words carved on it — poems about him, his eyes, the charming lines that tug at the corners. You hope he can see how you’ve kept every word he’s every whispered against your skin, how you’ve inscribed them onto your beating soul: secrets and promises only the two of you will ever get to know, your own name scribbled by his lips a thousand times. You’ll treasure the invisible markings forever. Your heart’s covered in him and you just hope he can see.

With Din, life seems more meaningful, peaceful, beautiful… full. And though frightening shadows still lurk, you know you don’t have to face them alone.

Of course, there are times you worry, moments when he still seems trapped in his head, sinking into deep waters with that silver ball clutched in his hand. But he has you now, his liferaft, one with patched up holes and dents that will always come to pull him back up to the surface.

On those nights when he gets lost in the treacherous tsunami of his mind, you try to give back to him everything he’s so generously offered you. And even as you draw rasped sighs and choked cries and broken moans from his lips, your fingers painting patterns across his body… you know what heals him most are the moments after: the way your breath slows down to match his, how your lips press so gently over his eyelids until they close and project dreams of you as he sleeps.

Meant for me, he’d once said. Or maybe, meant for you.

—

xii.

In the sacred moments you and Din have to yourselves — no quarry to chase, no demons to face — you find yourselves on beautiful secluded planets like this one, surrounded by towering trees and lush rolling hills and long blades of grass and calm creek cadences. Somehow, each new system is more stunning than the last, and every time he opens the ramp to his ship, he intently watches your wonderstruck reaction as your eyes take in a fantastical new planet and gorgeous environment.

Visiting new planets off-duty comes with its own routine. He walks with you as you explore with wide eyes, sits beside you when you find a colorful plant to draw, lifts his helmet ever so slightly when the desire to kiss you — your cheek, your temple, your shoulder — becomes too overwhelming. And when night falls, you both retire to his ship, where he can freely remove every piece of armor and kiss every inch of your skin until it’s all you can dream of.

Since the confrontation at the Imperial base, Din’s also taken it upon himself to train you. Not in the ways of the Jedi, of course. That, you’re learning to study on your own. Din trains you like a Mandalorian — a zealous approach to weapons and warriorship. He’s a patient and compassionate teacher, and it only ties your heart to his in a tighter knot. With his gentle guidance, handling a blaster is hardly an obstacle and it only takes a month or two before you become well-acquainted with the darksaber he’d hidden in his storage cabinet for so long.

When he’d finally told you the story of the ancient weapon of legend, gravity had seemed to press harder against his back, making his shoulders slope and his head hang even lower. Because, on the day he’d parted with his son, he’d not only removed the mask of his Creed, he’d also acquired the crown of a cursed planet. And he still doesn’t know which one weighs heavier atop his head.

After that, you’d dedicated yourself to training with renewed vigor — wanting to be prepared if ever the target on his back brought upon old Imperial enemies or new ones who sought to usurp him from the throne he never wanted.

Today, much like the other times you’d trained with him, it’s mostly just chopping at trees and bushes. You can’t deny how much stronger you feel just holding the Mandalorian weapon and knowing you can defend yourself even without the Force.

There’s a part of you, however, that feels like Din’s holding back. Whenever you’d asked when you’d be ready to spar with him, eager to test your newfound skills against something that can actually fight back, he’d simply readjusted your stance with gentle hands and asked you to show him the different sword strokes he’d taught you.

“Very good,” Din praises as you step forward and swing the darksaber through the air, slicing clean through a thin branch.

“Well, that tree had it coming,” you scoff, crossing your arms with over-exaggerated toughness. “I’ve had enough of your bark, tree. It’s about time you leaf.”

“Puns. You’re upset,” he says, not a question.

“I’m not upset,” you lie, trying to put on your best sabacc face. But his helmet tilts in a way that’s far too knowing for a darkened, T-shaped visor, and you sigh in defeat under his scrutinizing stare. “Fine. I just… I just think I’m ready to up the ante here. And I feel like you’re holding back.”

He stares at you for a moment, studiously looking you up and down.

“Your posture is too slouched,” he explains, changing the subject again. “Go back to ready position.”

“Don’t do that,” you heave out another exasperated sigh.

“Ner kar’ta...”

“No, don’t ‘ner kar’ta’ me. Just because you’ve got this shiny sword,” you argue, the glowing saber humming in your hand as you brandish it back and forth, “and you’re technically a king or whatever—”

“Mand’alor,” he interrupts. “And I’m not.”

“—doesn’t mean everything you say is law. I want you to fight me. I’m ready,” your voice softens, stepping closer to him as your pleading hands wrap around the back of his neck. “I want to really learn from you.”

“We’re not doing this,” he answers, despite willingly staying trapped in the cage of your arms.

But you don’t back down. Instead, you lean forward, lips barely a hair's breadth from his helmet before you boldly kiss the spot where his mouth would be, lingering and watching how the tinted panel fogs up. The print of your mouth marks the dark visor and it makes you grin. 

“Fight me, Mando,” you whisper, all sultry bravado laced with a tease that prickles the skin beneath Din’s armor.

“Ready position,” he rasps like he’s annoyed at himself. 

A metallic, musical sound rings in the empty forest as he unsheathes the beskar spear behind his back. And like a giddy child, you bounce on your feet and step backward, swinging the darksaber in your hands before taking your stance. 

Din stands sturdy just a few feet away, spear gripped tightly in his gloves. He slowly lowers himself, knees bent just slightly, an air of strength and confidence surrounding him. Then, hardly perceptible, he nods.

You dig your heels into the soil, your boots squashing the grass below your feet. With your legs spread wide, you draw the darksaber up to the side of your head, the blinding glow casting a white halo on your cheek. Narrowing your eyes and taking a deep breath, you charge forward at lightning speed, zeroing in on the shiny armor in front of you.

At the last second, Din dodges your attack, stepping to the side and watching as you rush past him. You somehow manage not to trip over your own feet and hastily twirl around to face him again. But Din’s already got the point of his spear aimed at the side of your throat.

“You’re relying too much on your speed,” he explains, spear hovering just below your ear. “Size up your opponent first. Figuring out their weakness is more valuable than using up all your strength. Go again.”

You huff at him but get back into ready position, breathing deep in through your nose and out through your mouth. This time, you take a moment to assess him for weak spots. There aren’t many of course, not visible at least. But you decide the side of his stomach is your best bet.

The moment he nods his head, you take a leap forward and twist your wrist, swinging the blade toward his waist. His spear spins swiftly to block the strike, your weapons meeting in a clash of sparks and high-pitched whistles. You summon all your strength to push the saber against his spear, watching as the silver metal turns orange under the intense laser’s heat. And just when you feel like you’re gaining the high ground as Din’s body bends under your advance, he sweeps his boot beneath you and you fall backward, losing grip of the darksaber.

“That was better,” he says with approval, scanning your body as you lay on the ground and groan loudly. “You okay?” He gently wonders, coming closer and extending a gloved hand toward you.

With shaking fingers, you reach for him. And the moment you feel his grip tighten around your hand, an idea sparks. Without another thought, you yank him forward onto the ground beside you. He lets out a surprised grunt when he hits the dirt and you take full advantage of his shock, straddling his hips and trapping his arms beneath your legs. You extend your hand out to the side and, within seconds, the darksaber comes flying back into your fist. With a bright flash, you ignite the laser blade near his throat.

“That’s cheating,” he says, but you can hear the proud smile in his voice.

“I simply assessed my opponent’s weakness,” you grin, retracting the saber into its hilt and leaning down until you’re nose-to-nose with his helmet. “Just so happens, his weakness is me.”

“Good girl,” he says, and you can’t fight the way his praise sends a fluttering warmth to your belly.

You kiss his helmet again with an exaggerated smacking sound before getting off of him and saying, “Let’s go again.”

Din spars with you for nearly two hours, offering gentle advice each time he bests you (which is most of the time) and showering you with praises whenever you find a way to get the upper hand. It fills you with unmatchable strength and confidence.

“That’s enough for today, verd’ika,” he says, slightly breathless as he brushes dirt off your clothes. “It’s getting dark. Let’s head inside.”

You smile at him, filled with an intense urge to kiss him. So, you reach for his helmet, slowly, just in case. His head turns left and right, checking if the coast is clear, before nodding. You lift the beskar slightly, just enough to reveal his mouth and his neatly-trimmed mustache, and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“Thank you, Din,” you whisper as you set his helmet back in its place. You can almost see the bemused look on his face as he stares at you.

And as you walk back to the ship, a re-energized bounce in your step, you decide to tease him one last time, turn around, and smirk. “Meet you in the fresher.”

— 

xiii.

Din’s hair hangs in waves over his forehead as he gazes down at you, leaning on his left forearm to stay suspended over your body. 

He smells delicious, like his herb-scented soap and the delicious meal he’d cooked for you tonight. His skin is glazed in a radiant sheen and his eyes somehow glow in the dim lighting of your shared quarters.

You’ve learned to appreciate rare nights like this, when there are no jobs to keep him away from you for days at a time. When your eyes get to unabashedly roam over the golden expanse of his skin, without heavy armor or layers of cloth in your way. When you get to listen to his voice for hours on end as his hand traces lines and circles into your skin.

“What are you thinking about?” You ask him, noticing how his entranced stare focuses on your lips when you speak.

He strokes a calloused finger over your cheekbone, then under the curve of your lips, until his thumb finds a resting place over your chin and gently swipes back and forth.

“You,” he answers honestly, leaning down to kiss you, tasting your smile on his tongue. He lingers there for a long moment, hanging from your lips like a man on the edge of falling though he’s already fallen countless times before.

“That’s all?” You whisper, feeling his hot breath brush against your mouth.

He rests his forehead against yours, his nose rubbing along the side of your own.

“And how much the kid would have loved this planet,” he continues wistfully. “Running through the grass and catching frogs or whatever he could eat.” 

Your soft laugh is bittersweet as he reminisces over his son, the corners of his eyes wrinkling mere centimeters from your face.

“Thinking about how he would have liked watching us train together. He’d probably cheer for you to win,” Din chuckles when you scrunch your nose and shake your head doubtfully. Then, his face softens and his eyes glisten. “Grogu would have loved you.”

An errant tear falls from Din’s lashes and drops onto your cheek, and there's little you can do to keep your own from getting mixed in — a tiny melancholy river forming atop your skin. Your hands cup either side of his face, and you lean forward to kiss the spot where the tear had left a small trail right below his eye.

“In some ways, it’s like I know him now,” you murmur against Din’s cheekbone. “Because I know you. I can feel it — the pieces of you that will be part of him forever. I would love him too. I already do.”

He whispers your name again and again, and each time, it’s like he’s making a wish on a star. 

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum,” you whisper, kissing his lips sweetly.

When you draw backward against your pillow, he latches onto your mouth once more and kisses you until you’re breathless.

“There aren’t words, ner kar’ta, ” he says quietly, fingers brushing gently over your hair. “Nothing can explain what you mean to me.”

When Din makes love, you can feel nothing else but him — his body, his soul, his heart. Every touch and movement is energized by a deep intention to let you know what he sometimes struggles expressing in words. But you’ve become fluent in him, knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt how each kiss translates to: I love you.

Each thrust of his hips means: I want you.

Each ragged moan reveals: I need you.

Each soft caress says: I’d do anything for you.

And each time his forehead meets yours, he declares: I have found my family.

As you both try to catch your breath, he flops back down onto the bed beside you. He hums happily when he feels you hold tight to him, squeezing his middle with your arms and placing a kiss over his heart.

“Good night, Din,” you mumble, yawning as you nuzzle your face against his chest and bury yourself deep beneath the covers.

“Sweet dreams,” he says, pressing his lips into your hair.

You tilt your chin up just slightly, wanting the last image you see before you drift off to be his beautiful face. But his stare is far away, lost in thought once again. You follow his line of sight, beginning at his shining eyes and landing on the collection of drawings hung beside his door. And the pictures that reflect in his glossy irises are the finished portrait of him beside the sketch of you and Grogu displayed proudly in the center.

Someday, you swear to yourself, those images will be more than just pencil scratches on parchment. Someday, your small chosen family will be whole.

When you close your eyes — your head resting over the warm skin of his chest, his heart marching steadily under your cheek — you dream of the day Din and his son finally reunite, with you standing by his side. And even if that’s still a far-off fantasy, you can rest easily knowing two things for sure:

Tomorrow, you’ll wake up wrapped in Din’s arms. And, for as long as you live, neither of you will ever be alone again.

End Note: Thank you to anyone who's read this story. It's been a labor of love for me and I'm especially grateful to readers who left encouraging feedback. As for me, I'll be around. I'm working on another Javi x Reader story (inspired by yet another TS song — off evermore this time). If you haven't read my other one, please check it out! It's called "If I Could Never Give You Peace." Talk soon! Mando’a Glossary: Ner kar’ta = My heart (kar’ta = heart [kah-ROH-ta]; ner = my [nair]) Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum. = I know you forever [nee kar-TILE garh dah-RAH-soom] ⎿ “It's the same word as 'to know,' 'to hold in the heart,' kar'taylir. But you add darasuum, ‘forever,’ and it becomes something rather different.” — Republic Commando: Triple Zero Verd' ika = Little Warrior (affectionately) [vair-DEE-kah]

Please reblog & comment to show your support! I’d love to hear your thoughts!!

Taglist: @sarahjkl82-blog @pedro-pastel @mavendeb @tailormotelkamzoil @unexistant @karkii @hwjdykqueillmjwkqu @httpwale @chiara-cannot-sleep​ @niiight-dreamerrrr​

[thenovelartist]

A Blanc Slate, Chapter 4

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10. Cooking Together

Things with Adrien had been…oddly tense.

He felt even more closed off than normal. Marinette wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt and say that it was just because the police and detectives had been showing up more frequently lately. After all, Gabriel’s death had been determined to be by trauma to the back of his head and not due to the burns or smoke inhalation, and therefore Adrien’s injuries became suspicious.

Adrien had confessed that his father and he did get into a physical altercation, but it had been in self-defense. Apparently, Adrien had had to face his father that day when he was finishing dragging the last of his belongings out of the house, and it had ended with them fighting in the main hall. Considering Gabriel had been found in his office, that already eased suspicion.

Secondly, Adrien swore hadn’t caused the injury to Gabriel’s skull. Adrien’s fist had apparently been broken when he threw a punch that landed on his father’s jaw, which had knocked Gabriel down so Adrien could run from the house.

His story should have left Adrien in the clear, but of course the investigation had to continue until everyone was convinced it could be closed.

While Marinette was certain this put an enormous amount of stress on Adrien, she knew the collapsing of his father’s company also had to play a part in his exhaustion. After all, Adrien was the one who had to deal with it, and she’d watched him work himself to the point of crashing out on his couch.

Maybe he had a good excuse after all for not calling Nino or Alya. He barely had time for himself.

Marinette, on the other hand, realized she’d grown too comfortable forcing herself into Adrien’s life. When she started this routine of hers, she’d initially tried to coax answers out of him or convince him to rely on his friends more. But after her last meeting with Chat over a week ago now…

She stayed quiet.

It wasn’t like Marinette believed that she was the only one at fault in that situation, but she also knew she couldn’t change Chat. The only thing she could change was herself, and when Chat had pointed out her micro-managing habits derived from her need to fix things, she couldn’t deny his words. Fixing things was what she did. It was a hard habit to break, but she would have to out of respect for the people she cared for.

So, she stopped trying to pry information out of Adrien, but she realized that not prying didn’t mean she had to stop reaching out for him. Which was why she’d started cooking for him and helping him clean his apartment while he dealt with things on the phone or emails or one of the plethora of other things that was on his plate.

She tried not to force conversation too frequently, and when they did chat, she let it flow naturally while trying not to purposefully pry. She was here to help, not to fix.

As hard as that was.

“Smells good.”

Marinette glanced up, only to see Adrien was now at her side. She gave him a smile. “You mentioned you liked this meal the last time you had it, so I thought I’d make it again.”

Absently, he nodded, staring down at the food in the pan. After a moment, he turned back to her. “Why are you doing this?”

Her brow furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“I know you have to have better things to do than come play housewife for me.”

The heat that sprawled across her cheeks reminded her that her crush on this man still raged on. If her thirteen-year-old self could see her now, not turning into a complete and total bumbling spaz at the mere mention of the word ‘housewife’, she might die of shock. Even her current self was impressed that the most reaction he elicited from her was a blush.

But that might have to do with the fact her romantic heart had grown increasingly torn between him and another blonde man in her life.

She shrugged. “Because you’re my friend, and I care about your well-being.”

“Yeah, but… why? I’ve basically been shutting you out the last two weeks.”

“You’re stressed.”

“I know what I’m doing,” he grumbled, voice quiet as though chastising himself.

She could feel the guilt radiating off Adrien. They both knew this cold nature wasn’t his true character. Marinette was already willing to let it slide due to his circumstances, but the fact even he was willing to admit—albeit in a roundabout way—that his actions were wrong made Marinette all the more willing to forgive him. “It’s okay,” she said. “I’ll let it slide.”

“You shouldn’t.”

“You’re under stress. It’s not like you don’t have a reason.”

“No, it’s an excuse that still didn’t excuse the behavior you shouldn’t have to put up with.”

“Are you trying to say I shouldn’t bother with you?”

“Basically.”

The bluntness of his words surprised her. She stopped stirring the contents of the pan, turning her attention back to Adrien. “Why? Do you want me to stop?”

He paused, hesitating. “Yeah. You should.”

The words hurt, but there was something in his tone that prompted her to question, “Are you saying that because I’m bothering you? Or because you think you’re bothering me?”

He didn’t answer, the silence hanging in the air answering in his stead.

“You’re not bothering me,” she assured. “And unless you really want to be alone, please, stop pushing me away. I’m your friend, and I’m more than happy to do this.”

She went back to cooking, turning down the heat on the stove before she burned anything.

“What if I’m not as great as you think I am?”

Marinette turned her attention back to him, her brow furrowed in confusion. “What?”

When she met Adrien’s gaze, those green eyes of his were somewhat softer than they had been. More open and raw, allowing her to see the extent of the pain he was in. It broke her heart that her immediate thought was his pain seemed to rival Chat’s. “What if I’m not the guy you thought you knew over the last few years?”

Marinette bit her lip, mulling over his words and how to respond to them. “Well… I can’t get to know you again if you keep pushing me away.”

The surprise in his eyes hurt, like he didn’t expect her to be so willing with a second chance. “What if you won’t like what you see?”

“That’s for me to decide, not you to decide for me.”

Again, a stretch of silence settled between them.

“Hey,” Marinette began again. “I know I shouldn’t pry, and if I am then tell me, but are you pushing us away for some reason? Maybe because you don’t think you’re worthy to be our friend?”

Adrien blinked, then turned away, seemingly unable to look at her.

Carefully, she reached out and lightly touched his shoulder, just as a reminder she was there. “We’re not going to abandon you, Adrien. Good people don’t just abandon their friends in the middle of trouble. And so, no matter what happened with your dad, we’re not going to leave you behind.”

“But why do you want to take on my shit?”

“Because that’s what friends do,” Marinette said. “Because humans are weird and decide that they enjoy the presence of certain people in their life enough that sticking around through the shit is worth it to keep that person around.”

“Even if that person isn’t the same person you once knew?”

“Yeah,” she easily said. “Besides, I know you’ll change and grow up, but I’ll bet that at heart, you’re still the same person we love.”

Adrien was silent for a long while, long enough for Marinette to finish cooking dinner. When she pulled out plates, Adrien took them from her.

“I’ll serve you tonight,” he said. “You can go have a seat. Thank you.”

With a smile, Marinette let him take the dishes. “You’re welcome.”

11. Take a Break

Marinette was sketching in her room when she heard a knock on her trap door.

At first, she thought she was imagining things, but when she heard the knock again, she was up like a shot. She flung open the trap door with a bang, shocked but thrilled to see Chat there, crouched before her so as to be on her level.

“Hey stranger,” she said with a wide grin she couldn’t tamp down.

He gave her a hint of a grin. “I’m not staying long. I’m just taking a little break from work and thought I’d come by to apologize for the last time I was here.”

Marinette frowned. “I’d like to apologize, too. You were right; I was being overly nosy. I do like fixing things, but I don’t have the ability to ‘fix’ you or force my help on you. Sorry.”

Chat shook his head. “I know you meant well,” he said. “I was being pretty nasty to you. A friend kinda made me rethink my behavior recently, so I’m sorry, too.”

With a smile, Marinette extended her hand. “Truce?”

When Chat glanced at her hand, Marinette felt a blush come to her cheeks. “Oh, um, I won’t try to drag you in or anything. But… uh… how about a fist bump?”

The smile that crossed Chat’s lips was small and sad. The first thing that came to Marinette’s mind was that she’d just reminded him of, well, her. Just her in spots. The “her” he was avoiding. And while it still killed her a little on the inside to not understand why, she knew she really couldn’t push it out of respect for him. Maybe he’d come to her, Ladybug her, when he was ready. She could hope, at least.

After a moment’s hesitation, he gently tapped her knuckles with his. Marinette had to bite back the ‘pound it’ that formed automatically on the tip of her tongue.

“Can I interest you in a cookie or two?” she asked instead. “I promise I won’t pry or anything.”

He shook his head and stood. “No, not today. I just wanted to swing by and apologize.”

Disappointing as it was, Marinette couldn’t complain considering that he took the time to come back again at all. “Do you think you’ll come back?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know. Probably not.”

“I’d be happy if you did.”

He turned to her, that tiny smile still on his lips. “Thought you said you weren’t going to try to ‘fix’ me.”

“I’m not ‘fixing’ you. I’m just offering you a happy place to hang out that serves cookies.”

He huffed, smile flashing brighter for a second. He still wasn’t back to the kitty she knew, but this was much better than before. “Noted. Thanks.”

12. Cuddles

It wasn’t that day that he swung by. Or the next. Or the day after that. But four days later, Chat did drop in on her balcony.

And Marinette was more than happy to see him. “Hey, look what the cat dragged in.”

“Terrible joke,” he brushed off, leaning back against her balcony railing.

She shifted in her chair so she could face him better. “I know. You’re the punny one of the two of us.”

He just shrugged.

“Well, since you’re here,” Marinette began, “want a treat?”

“Isn’t the saying ‘feed a cat, and it will keep coming back’?”

“Something along those lines,” Marinette said with a grin, standing from her balcony chair. “Anything you want in particular?”

“Something sweet that will make the ringing in my ears go away,” he said, his eyes closing and ears dropping with exhaustion. “I’ve been getting yelled over the phone at all day.”

With a sad nod, Marinette headed down the stairs to collect a chocolate pastry and bottle of water before slipping back up to the balcony to deliver it to Chat.

When he lit up at the sight of the pastry, Marinette could feel relief bubble up within her. This was her Chat, the one who loved food unlike anyone she’d ever met. Snacks and sweets had always been met with excited grins and sparkling eyes that could rival a cartoon character. Today’s reaction might not have been that extreme, but it was still there. Marinette would count it as a win.

“So, work’s hard?” she asked, plopping down on her chair again.

“Hellish like you would not believe,” he muttered, ripping off a bit of the pastry and popping it in his mouth.

“Sorry.”

He shrugged. “Honestly, I expected this. Sucks but whatcha gonna do?”

“Well, cuddles are out of the question, so I guess just feed you sweet things?”

Chat huffed a laugh, his smile the brightest it had been since turning into Chat Blanc. Marinette couldn’t help but grin wider at the sight. “I guess if you promise to feed me, I’ll come around again,” he said.

“I’d like that.”

He nodded before popping the last bite into his mouth. “Would you mind if I hung around here a bit? I just want to escape my phone and computer at the moment.”

“Stay as long as you’d like, Chat.”

He slid down to sit on the ground. “Appreciate that, Princess.”

[elles-writing]

Flowers for a girl

A/N: This still comes back sometimes, so I thought why not to write it down, though I don't exactly remember some parts of it for some reason (is it ptsd? idk), but in Middle-Earth AU, Kili is little younger (12-13 in human years, in TH he'd be like 16-17 i guess. Reader is 10-11 years old) and it happens before TH events. It's something different than I usually write, because it's based off on my personal experiences, so...yeah.

I wanted to write it down mainly for myself, to accept my past. If this is happening to you, please seek for help!! Better be safe than sorry. If you'd needed to, my ask box and messages are open, if you need to talk.

Warnings/triggers: description of emotional and physical bullying, body shaming, very low self esteem of reader, hints of swearing, eating disorder thoughts, mention of catcalling

If any of these is triggering you, please don't read this story!! Even if there is fluff, there are still these.

"Look at that fatty," one of the boys laughed into her direction. Y/n felt tears swelling in her eyes.

Don't cry, don't cry.

"How much do you weight? I bet as much as a pig!"

"You are so ugly and fat!" The other one said and pushed her. Y/n tried to do anything, but she was too scared.

"No, give it back, that's mine!" She said, when the boys took her sketchbook.

"Look at those drawings, they're like so bad," one of them pointed at them.

"Give it to me back!" She tried to grab him, but he put his arm up.

Don't cry, please, don't cry, not now...

"Ah, then come and get it!" He runned away, and Elle tried to catch him, but he was quicker.

"Ha! You out of breath already, you ugly fat pig? C'mon, come for it!" Him and other boys laughed. Y/N tried to catch his shirt, but he was running and jumping around.

"Look at how she jumps, look at her! It's like pudding!" They laughed. Y/N felt tears to come up into her eyes.

Don't cry, not now, you can't...

"Look, she's gonna cry!" You looked away, blinking furiously.

You can't cry in front of them.

"Leave her alone!" A voice came from behind the boys. They all looked back at him.

Y/N couldn't see him, she was shorter than them, and they were around her in a circle.

"Or what?" Said one.

"Look, the fatty got a boyfriend, eww!" One of the boys, and Y/N wanted to hide somewhere. She felt scared, shameful, and embarrassed.

Who would have ever loved her?

"Look, she's not speaking," they pushed her and Elle let out a surprised gasp as she fell to the ground.

"I'm saying it again, leave her alone," the other boy said. She looked around, and noticed him looking at her. She blushed, and looked away. He was handsome.

She knew she will hear about it later.

"Or what? What are you?"

"I'm Kili, from the line of Durin, and I would suggest you to get out, if you don't want me to kill you," he growled out, and Y/N felt fear rising in her. Would he hurt her?

Kili pointed the tip of one of his daggers to the main boy's throat, who then quickly took his friends and went away. They even threw her her sketchbook back.

"Did they hurt you?" Kili asked, then looked down at her for the first time.

She refused to look at him at first, but then she did. She was scared, and reminded Kili of a bunny.

She could be around ten years old. She was a human, he guessed, based on her ears.

"No, I'm...I'm okay," Y/N whispered and looked away.

"Thank you," she muttered.

"What happened? Why did they followed you?" Y/N looked down in her lap.

"I was drawing and reading here. I think they seen me, and went after me...it's been my safe place," You whispered.

"I can stay with you, in case they would come back," Kili offered before he thought of it. At this point, he was sitting down next to her.

"I-I don't know. They would laugh at both of us..." she said quietly, fearing of a wave of laugh. Kili furrowed his brows.

"How long has this been happening to you?"

"For over a year..." you said.

"I'm Y/n," she said a little awkwardly.

"I'm Kili," Kili introduced himself, remembering how his mother taught him to introduce himself.

"So that's decided, I'm staying with you," he said, and muttered some curses in Khuzdul, as he thought about the group.

"H-here, take my coat. It's getting cold," he said. She smiled nervously.

"Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you anymore," He offered her a smile, and she decided to take his offer, though she hoped he won't comment on her warming up face, or her body. She liked him, he was not just handsome, but actually kind to her.

It has never happened to her ever before, with a guy, who was a stranger...

The coat was big on her (that was a huge relief) and she cuddled into it.

"So, what are we going to do now?"

"Well, I-" Y/N didn't finished her sentence, because the first drop fell on her head, and other quickly started following. She gasped and quickly put her belongings to her bag. As she finished, it was raining heavily now. Her hair was soaking wet, sticking to her head.

Now he will see how I'm ugly, and laugh at me and call me names, and- she wanted to cry. Kili noticed her expression.

"So they did hurt you? Where is it?" Y/n shook her head, as they walked in the heavy rain.

"N-no, I just...I hope the sketchbook didn't got wet," she decided for the safer version.

"But you got wet. Where do you live?"

"Well...around twenty minutes of walk," Y/N said, so if anything, he wouldn't try to find her, though she was kind. But just to be safe.

"I'll take you home with me, it's not that far," Kili offered, and you quickly turned to him. He was kind, but her parents warned her about going somewhere with strangers.

"I-I think it's okay, thank you for your offer,"

"You are going to get wet to bone if you keep walking," Kili said and Y/N looked at him, but quickly looked away. The rain sticked Kili's hair and clothes to his body, and she blushed.

He surely has a girlfriend, don't be stupid, she snapped at herself.

He would never want to be with you, you are a child, and he is older. And he is super kind and handsome.

"Alright, then...I will go with you," you said unsurely. She thought she would think of something, if anything would go wrong. Plus, he was a prince. Y/N doubted he would do anything like this, if he was a prince.

"Amad, I'm home!" Kili said as he closed the door behind him. Y/N curiously looked around. It was a nice small house, with the smell of bread hanging in the air.

"Come with me," Kili said, and as Y/N was about to make a step, she noticed the puddle, and how she was soaked.

Before Y/N knew it, she was sitting in clean dry clothes, borrowed from Kili, wrapped in sweater and a blanket, sipping on warm tea.

"Kili, who is this?" Dis asked her son quietly. Kili looked at the human girl.

"Well, some boys called her names, so I went there, and then started raining, so I told her to come with me, because she told me she lives futher away, and she was soaking wet already..." Dis nodded, though she eyed her son, if he wasn't hiding anything.

"Where do you live, dearie?" Dis asked the little girl, who shyly looked around.

"I live near that small forest, my family owns multiple fields, and we work there," she admitted to the woman, who introduced herself as Dis.

"Would you like to have anything else to eat?" She offered her. Y/N shook her head. She didn't wanted to embarrass herself, and look like all she could do was to eat.

"No, thank you for your offer," she smiled, and carefully sipped on her tea.

The rain stopped, and Dis went with the girl where she lived, to explain what happened, and make sure she was safe.

Kili didn't seen the girl for next couple days, but when he was on the hunt in the forests, he overheard a conversation.

"He was cute, brown eyes and he was kind to me," Smile stretched across his lips, as he recognized that voice. He wasn't considered as too attractive among his kin, but hearing this made his heart warm up.

"Blue eyes are prettier, aren't they?" a voice of another girl said. Y/N was quiet.

"Well, they just are. Brown eyes aren't that pretty," the girl said.

"Don't you think so?" She turned to Y/N.

"W-well, um, depends on a person, I think?" The other girl got up.

"They are prettier." Kili could clearly see how Y/N looked down, and she seemed to feel sad.

He walked away, with thoughts of Y/N in his head, when he suddenly overheard some voices in the distance.

"Do you think we will find the pig today?"

"Probably. Her and her ugly drawings."

"It's not just her drawings who is ugly," the boys laughed.

"Do you remember her? 'Don't do that,' and then she went and started swearing back at us,"

"We are going to get her back, don't worry. She's slow runner, what about if we would take her things and made her run around? She would lose some weight at least."

"Great idea," other boys said. Kili felt his blood boiling.

How dare they to talk about her this way?

As the boys walked along, Kili prepared to scare them a little, but then he overheard another things.

"The guy who protected her, he has horrible taste in girls."

"Yeah, what a jerk. And those eyes the small fat pig made on him," one of them widely opened his eyes and wildly started blinking. The other boys were laughing.

Kili gripped his bow. He didn't knew the girl too much, but nobody deserved to be treated this way.

His arrows found their target quickly. The boys stopped, and looked around. Kili noticed they were really afraid, and smirked to himself.

When he came back home with two rabbits, he decided to go look around again. The sun was still not setting, so he still had some time.

His thoughts took him far away, and he didn't noticed he stepped on something, that felt like a pencil. He looked down, and realized it was a few pencils, hidden in grass, and when he looked around, he noticed sketchbook, hidden in old willow. If he wouldn't know what to look for, or didn't had as swift eyes, he wouldn't ever notice it.

He took the sketchbook out. It was familiar, and though he felt a little guilty, his curiousity was stronger.

He noticed a few sketches of trees, flowers and attempts of drawing people. They all were made with precision. They were not as realistic, but that certainly didn't mean they were not nice. It was drawn by someone, who was still learning, but truly excited about it.

Kili put it back carefully, and got back home.

It's been a few weeks, when he met the girl again. He came home with Fili from sword training, and his eyes widened when he noticed Dis with Y/N, chatting in the kitchen.

"Hi," she greeted them shyly.

"We have first strawberries, so I thought I would bring some for you," she shyly looked at Kili.

-

"Stop it," you muttered. Kili rose his brow.

"Oh, what is it?" He looked her into face, and noticed her shy smile, while he was grinning.

"You made me obsessed with these strawberry cakes your grandma bakes, can I have another one?" He made puppy eyes. Y/N sighed.

"Fine. But don't distract me, okay?" Y/N handed him the sweet pastry, and Kili winked at her.

"You're the best," He kissed her cheek quicker, than he thought of it. They both deeply blushed.

"Um, thank you, I suppose," Y/N muttered, and looked back into her sketchbook.

Meantime, when Kili chewed on his cake, Fili came back from his and Kili's room, and started reading a book. He started laughing, and Kili quickly took a look what was his brother laughing about.

"C'me read this, Y/N, this is so funny!" He said, but his smile froze, as he noticed her ashamed expression.

"What happened, Bunnie?" He used the nickname he gave her, because she loved bunnies. Y/N sighed.

"Well, um...it's embarrassing," she whispered.

"Neither of us will laugh at you, I promise," Fili said, and the girl looked at both of them. She took a deep breath.

"Icannotread," she muttered, and quickly looked away.

"You can't...read?" Y/N nodded shamefuly.

"It's, um...the school is too far for me to go  alone there, so, um...yeah." The brothers shared a look, which Y/N took in different meaning. She felt tears in her eyes, but Fili was quick enough to notice.

"No, we won't laugh at you, Y/N!" He said and pulled the girl into a bear hug. Kili quickly joined.

"Yeah, Bunnie, don't worry. We would never laugh at you," Y/N relaxed in the hug.

"Thank you," she muttered, and hugged them back.

They spend rest of the day by teaching her how to read, and write. Soon after, Y/N started studying with the brothers.

-

"You are distracting me," Y/N muttered, as Kili was kicking his legs back and forth. It was summer - over four months after they met. Y/N sat up on the tree, and Kili was sitting down on branch a little lower.

"How can be that possible?" He looked at her innocently. Y/N blushed, when she seen his big brown eyes in sunlight. They were in shades of melted gold and caramel.

"The tree is shaking, and I want to enjoy reading this book without distractions."

"I'm not a distraction!" Kili pouted.

"You are," Y/N offered him a smile, and got back to her book. Kili pouted a little more.

"Will you read it to me, then?" Y/N looked at him, and dramatically sighed.

"Fine. But let's sit down on the ground," Kili got down, and then he carefully placed his hands around her waist, Y/N placed her hands on his shoulders for support, and he put her down.

Y/N sat down, her back leaning against the tree, and Kili placed his head on her lap. Y/N smoothed her skirt and placed her book next to her, so she could read it, while playing with Kili's hair.

Y/N was the only one allowed to touch Kili's hair, aside from Kili's family. She never understood why dwarves were such touchy about their hair, but again, she was the same way, so she fully respected it.

Kili fell asleep after a while, on the sound of her voice.

-

"You the last cake I said was mine!" Y/N growled out and Kili laughed, but he quickly stopped laughing.

After the months of spending time together, running around the fields and archery lessons, she got much stronger, so her punches had strength and would hurt. Kili and Fili would never hit or fight with a girl, and though Y/N became like another part of the family, only tickle fights were allowed with her.

"You-you Kili!" Y/N was more upset than angry, and Kili started laughing again, as he was jumping around and trying to get away from her punches.

"Stop, Bunnie," and tickled her.

"N-NO-T T-HAT P-PLAC-E, K-KI-LI!" Kili grinned.

"Awn, who is ticklish?"

"I ha-te you!" Y/N slid her hand across the back of his neck, and Kili let out a squeal.

"N-NOO!" You giggled as you started tickling him.

"Gotcha," You sticked out your tongue on him, and quickly runned away to hide, before he would get you back.

You runned, but didn't noticed when you bumped into someone.

"Aah, long time no see," a voice said, and you shivered.

"You squeled on us, huh? Is that everything you can do? You loser," the boy said. Y/N kept quiet, with her head down.

"Oh, look guys, she's going to cry! What are you gonna do? Run to your mommy, or your friends? Go on, you tettle-tale." Elle felt tears in her eyes, and quickly looked up.

"I'm not a tettle-tell, I-"

"That's what you say, and then you will go and tell your mommy about 'the big boys are bullying you'," they laughed. Elle wished she could hide somewhere, and try to cry. She wasn't able to cry, even when she was alone, as she learned to hide her tears.

Whoosh

And then a yelp from the boys.

Y/N looked up and noticed the arrow in one of the surrounding trees. It was Kili's arrow.

"You told someone to spy?! You will pay for this later," one of the boys said, and then another two arrows pierced through the air. The boys quickly walked away, leaving her alone.

Kili runned out from behind the trees, and pulled her close to his chest. He started saying something angrily in Khuzdul, and Y/N was sure those were swear words.

"Shh, it's okay, I'm here," Kili whispered, when he finished his quick session of swear words. Y/N shook in his embrace.

"Let's go home," he said. They picked up his arrows, and went home.

Kili made Y/N tea and gave her his favourite sweater, which also happened to be her favourite as well.

When Y/N went to sleep, Kili checked her every few minutes. He felt guilty. He should've protected her better, stay with her.

He carefully sat to the edge of the bed, and slid his thumb softly over her cheek.

"I will make sure they get what they deserve," he muttered and softly caressed her cheek.

-

"Sure, I will go with Bella and Alia, you don't need to worry about me, I will be safe," Elle gave Kili a smile. Her two friends from her neighbourhood, with who she enjoyed to spend time too.

"I just don't want you to get hurt," he shrugged, and sharpened his dagger. Y/N started on brushing her hair.

"The boys won't do anything, if they meet us in a group. Plus Fili gave me that sharp dagger for my fourteenth birthday, I always keep in my shoe."

Kili looked at his friend, focused on brushing out the knots in her hair. Y/N grew up and changed the way she reacted to what other people told her. But that wasn't just what changed.

She grew up into a young woman. She was beautiful, and some girls were jealous of her because of it, but luckily, Y/N had great friends.

"You home, sleeping beauty?"

"Oh, of course I am!" Kili grinned as he heard Bella's voice.

"No, you are snoring beauty."

"That's Fili!"

"That's both of you," Y/N rolled her eyes, but chuckled. She and Kili said their goodbyes to each other, and her friends she knew for three and two years, turned to her.

"So, how was your date?" Y/N blushed.

"He gave me flowers for my birthday, so what? That's what friends do." Y/N turned to Alia to change the topic.

"How about you and girls?" The blonde rolled her eyes.

"Some of them are arrogant, but other than that it's good. But I have you, so I don't care," she grinned and hugged her friends around their shoulders.

"So, what do you-" Bella started, when a group of boys passed them. They whistled, and started talking about them. Y/N's cheeks blushed, as she overheard them.

"Don't listen to those idiots, they still share one brain cell," Bella and Y/N said at once, and they all laughed, though Y/N didn't felt any happiness. Her instinct to run and hide from these boys was still there.

-

And then we arrived to the market. I still looked around if they were not there, but luckily not, Y/N wrote down the sentence, and put the notebook aside. She felt happy they didn't recognized her, but it still stressed her out. She looked over to the bow and quier with arrows Kili gifted her, when she had thirteenth birthday.

"Trouble with sleeping?" Kili's raspy voice appeared behind her.

"Yeah," Y/N sighed out, and pat on the bed next to her.

"C'me here, snoring beauty," Kili chuckled at that nickname.

"Ugh, again?" You nodded with a grin.

As you laid in safety of Kili's arms (and him being soundly asleep), your mind turned into a specific direction. Would Kili like you? Not just as a friend, but...more?

You'd fall asleep like this, if you had bad dreams. Kili fell asleep first, and softly snored, but he looked cute while doing so. You shook your head, and decided to listen to his breath, and soon, you fell asleep yourself.

The memories of the times you used to be bullied by those boys came back. You didn't felt confident at all, and mostly sad. You couldn't fall asleep at night, and you often found yourself looking over your body. Fat pig, that's how they called her. Was she still...like this? Would she ever be pretty enough?

It's been a while, since she cried before sleep, and then fell asleep afterwards.

The brothers noticed something was going on, when their friend seemed to be bothered by something. So, they decided to do thing they always did, which was making flowercrowns together.

-

"You're messing it up, Fili," you giggled, when the blonde prince's flowercrown fell apart.

For fifth time in twenty minutes.

"Well, I'll go get some fresh flowers, over here," he pointed to the carpet of daisies in the golden light of setting sun.

"Guess who," Said smooth voice next to your ear, when his hands covered your face.

"Hmm, is that you, Ki?"

"Who else."

Kili sat in front of you, and placed a flowercrown on your head. You both stood up, and he twirled you around.

"I've got you something else," he whispered.

"Flowers," you looked happily over the small fresh bouquet of wild flowers, and felt warmth spreading in you. You looked into his chocolate eyes.

"Kili, thank you so much, it's...it's beautiful,"

"Not nearly as beautiful as you," he looked deeply into your eyes.

"Flowers for a girl," he said, with a slightly pink-tinted cheeks.

"Now finally braid her hair," the lion prince's voice interrupted the romantic scene.

[mister-supernova]

If I Saw You on the Street

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3

Pairing: Hope Mikaelson x Reader - Platonic Josie Saltzman x Reader

After Malivore

For as long as you could remember, summer vacation was your absolute favorite time of the year. To your surprise, it’s actually been a huge drag for you this year. It wasn’t like this was the worst summer ever--you could think of a few others that could take that spot--but there was definitely something off that you couldn’t piece together. 

For instance, no one has any idea as to how Landon destroyed Malivore, not even Landon himself. That whole day seemed to be a huge blur to all of the students. You remembered the bigger events like the school defeating Triad, but everyone seems to struggle when it comes to the smaller details.  

In order to keep yourself busy, you decided to stay at the school and take a summer job at the Mystic Grill. Besides the fact that everyone else was back home with their families, the whole school had this off-putting sense of emptiness. The place has magic in the walls for crying out loud, you usually feel some sense of liveliness. 

There was this one room in particular that you felt strangely drawn to. You had no idea why since you knew that no one stayed in that room this past year. At least, no one you knew anyways. 

One day out of pure curiosity, you picked the lock to that room to see what was special about it. 

Just as you expected, it was just a regular empty dorm that was probably going to be taken up by a new student during the fall. It looked like every other bedroom at the school, but this one felt familiar. 

Something that caught you off guard was the scent that faintly lingered in the room. The best way you could describe it was something floral with a hint of sweetness and spice--vanilla and cinnamon maybe--and it wasn’t like anything else you had smelled in the school before. 

As much as you wanted to, you couldn’t bring yourself to leave for the longest time. The urge to stay and wander trumped over the obvious choice that was to walk away. 

Something happened here, you thought. 

A few small drops of pastel blue paint chips stained the wooden floorboards and you wondered how the hell they got there given the rooms have white walls. 

Instead of questioning it any deeper, you just assumed that a student who had this room before must’ve gotten the paint on the floor and the janitors hadn’t noticed it. 

But how could they have missed that? 

You stood there for what felt like hours, trying to piece together what it was that made this place have this unexplainable affect on you. You could’ve stayed there for the rest of the day digging through your brain for an answer that would never come. 

At the end of the day, you knew nothing would come to mind no matter how hard you tried. It was like the answer was at the tip of your tongue, but your mind was radio silent.

Frustrated and defeated, you had to force yourself to leave the strange room. After that, you made yourself forget about that place completely for the rest of the summer and refused to ever return to it.  

Whenever you weren’t at work, you spent time with Landon, Josie, and a wolfed-out Rafael which was fine in the beginning. Dorian gave you permission to shift in the woods on full moons for the summer so that Raf could talk to somebody and you guys could possibly get information on how to help him. 

He definitely appreciated the company that you could provide, but alas he had no idea on how he could be turned back. 

The happier times were the nights you four had weekly movie nights by the Old Mill. You all would alternate who would pick the movie to watch and Landon absolutely hated that you chose a horror movie every single time, but you loved hearing the phoenix boy screech with terror. Josie would get a good kick out of it, too and you were positive that you’d see Raf wag his tail every time Landon screamed.

During those small moments, things felt like they could possibly get back to normal, but once you stepped foot back in the school, you were lost again. 

Your thoughts were much louder through the night. It would get so bad that you could barely get any sleep and the times that you would, you’d wake up screaming from a night terror. 

There was one night when you were tossing and turning, you knocked on Josie’s door to ask if she knew some kind of incantation to get you to fall asleep. You were up for anything at that point, even letting her swing a frying pan over your head to knock you out.  

Not wanting to hurt you or possibly kill you, Josie made you some sleepytime tea instead which actually helped a lot. It didn’t help so much with the vivid dreams you’ve been having, but you thought that it was better than getting no sleep at all. 

Everything felt like it was going decently well until Raf decided to bow out once Josie and Landon started getting close. You wanted to curse at him for making you the third wheel, but you understood that he couldn’t wait here forever for some solution that could help him become human again. He had to move on somehow, especially seeing that his best friend seemed to be moving on, too.

Regardless, you started feeling awkward hanging out with just the two of them. They wanted to include you during their weekly movie nights, but you’d just make up some excuse that you had to be up early for work the next morning. 

Landon--damn him for knowing your work schedule--could tell that you were bullshitting, but he didn’t want to force you into doing something you didn’t want to do. 

You tried busying yourself with other activities like running through the woods, canoeing in the lake, taking extra shifts at work, binge eating all the good snacks in the kitchen; you even got yourself into drawing and painting for some weird reason, but no matter what you did, there was still something missing. 

Towards the end of the summer, you didn’t feel like your usual jokester self. Sure, you’d throw out a line of sarcasm or make a witty comment here and there, but most of it would sound forced. You’d mainly do it so that Josie and Landon wouldn’t worry about you so much, but Josie quickly picked up on your facade. 

They really wanted to help you figure out what was making you feel this way, but as much as you appreciate their help, there was nothing they could do. How could they figure out what was wrong if you didn’t even know for yourself?

One day after your shift at work, you decided to do something you never in your wildest dreams thought you would ever do. 

You started cleaning your room. 

Josie volunteered to help even though you assured her you’d be fine doing it alone. She bribed you by saying she’d buy you a milkshake if you let her help, so without another word, you agreed to let her stay and assist.

“Gosh, do you throw out any of your old assignments?” Josie asks as she rummages through your desk drawers, “This is an algebra one paper from three years ago, Y/n,” she says, flashing your old homework assignment with a huge F circled in the front. 

“Hey, less judging and more cleaning.” You say, digging through your dresser for clothes you don’t wear anymore. 

“Did you try writing a reminder for a history test or something?” 

You furrow your eyebrows before turning to look at Jo, “What do you mean?”

“You have this post-it note that says “Don’t forget H”, but that’s all that’s written,” she holds up the note and from the other side of your bed, you read exactly what she had said. 

It definitely looked like you tried scribbling another letter after the H, but it ended up being a long messy squiggle, “Uh, I don’t know,” you shrug, “Probably. I must’ve been half asleep when I wrote it though because I have no clue when I did that.” 

Josie puffs her lip out in confusion, “Well. I would be surprised by that, but judging by the ten cans of energy drinks I just tossed out, it’s not so surprising to hear that your memory is a little fuzzy.” 

You drop your jaw in shock, “Is today Judge Y/n Day and I wasn’t made aware of it? You asked to help clean my room Jo, now save your judgments for another day please.” 

Josie playfully rolls her eyes at you, followed by a small chuckle, “Toss?” She asks, ready to crumple the piece of paper up. You take a second to answer back, wondering whether or not if you did forget some history assignment or maybe something even bigger than that. 

“Sure,” you feel your stomach churn seeing her throw the note in the trash bag, but there was no taking it back now. 

Another few minutes of silence pass until Josie speaks up, “Since when do you draw?” 

You look back up from your clothes to see Jo now holding up a sketchbook you snagged at the lost and found a few weeks ago. It was brand new and untouched, so you thought to yourself “why not?”. 

After explaining that to Josie, she flipped through some of the first few pages. You were no Leonardo DiCaprio--or whatever that painter guy’s name was--but you thought you were decent with your sketches. 

“These are really good, Y/n. Did you just think of these by yourself?” She asks, talking about the drawings you had of a girl you’ve been seeing in your dreams. 

You could only see parts of the girl’s face. Mostly you’ve only been able to clearly see features like her eyes and hair, so most of the pages were taken up by a pair of blue eyes and waves of auburn hair. 

“Not really. I’ve been having these really vivid dreams lately.” You tell Josie.

“This is who you see?” She looks down at the pages again, “Who is that? She doesn't look like anyone we know.”  

“Yeah, I don’t know either. She’s all I’ve been seeing, though.” 

“Well, it looks like you’ve found yourself a hidden talent.” Josie smiles, gently setting the book back down on the desk, “And maybe she’s your soulmate,” she teases. 

You just roll your eyes with a small smile and get back to your tasks. 

Like a girl that beautiful could even exist let alone talk to me, you think to yourself. 

As you continue sorting through your clothes, you notice a pair of sweats that look almost smaller than half your size. 

“Uh, Jo?” She turns to your attention, “These aren’t yours, are they?” 

She raises an eyebrow at you, “How short do you think I am? I think my legs are a little longer than whoever those are.” 

“Well, they’re not mine, obviously. How’d they get into my drawer?” 

“Maybe they belonged to whoever lived in this dorm before you?” Josie shrugs.

“But the dresser was completely empty when I moved in,” you think for a moment, now questioning everything, “At least, I thought it was. I would think that I would’ve taken these out if they were here. Why would I keep a pair of sweatpants that I don’t fit in?” 

“You do a lot of questionable things, you know. Like that one time you jumped through a bonfire wondering how hot it really was or when you tried to do a backflip off the roof of the school and into the pool or the time you “drank” a beer through your-” 

You raise your hands in surrender and cut her off before she could finish, “Okay, I get it! I do stupid shit. The sweatpants belonged to whoever lived in here before I moved in and I didn’t take them out of the drawer. Case closed. Swiftly moving on.” 

You were positive they weren’t there when you moved in, but there weren’t any other reasons you could think of as to how they got into your dresser. 

Seconds before you tossed it back into the bottom of your drawer, your nose barely caught the same sweet and spicy floral scent that you recalled smelling in the strange room. Breathing it in again brought back that memory of being mentally lost in that room, but oddly enough this time it made you feel calm. 

After another hour passed you and Josie ended up filling three bags of trash, one of them recycled trash, and one large donation box of clothes. 

You didn’t waste any time reminding her that she owed you a milkshake. She kind of hoped that you would’ve forgotten about your deal, but she was a woman of her word.

You made a “compromise” to take your box of clothes over to the donating center on the other side of the town square while Josie bought the milkshakes. 

Your task was a lot quicker than Josie’s since it was pretty much rush hour at the Grill right now, so you waited for her on one of the benches in the square.

Sitting by yourself with nothing else to do but wait, you couldn’t help but feel that empty feeling return. The emptiness never hit you all at once, but it definitely drained the hell out of you. 

Again, you felt stumped. Like there’s somewhere you should be or something you should be doing or someone you should be with. You knew Josie was going to be back any minute, but that wasn’t what was missing. 

You anxiously looked toward the Mystic Grill, feeling your breaths becoming more and more shallow as every second passes. You started wishing Josie would walk out so that all your worries could just go away. 

Then--almost like you knew right where to look--your gaze stopped when you noticed someone looking at you from where you just came from on the other side of the town square. 

You couldn’t make out her facial features from so far away, but it was the auburn color of her hair that stuck out to you more than anything. For a moment--and just for a moment--all the weight that had been weighing on your shoulders this summer felt much lighter and everything felt okay again. 

“One cookies and cream milkshake,” Josie’s voice startles you and you face her abruptly, “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” she chuckles, lending you your milkshake.

“No, you’re good. I was just…” you look back to the spot you saw the girl only to find that she was gone, “I was just lost in thought.” 

You had no idea what just happened or how you seemed to have possibly seen the girl from your dreams, but just a glimpse of her made you feel more emotions than you have all summer long. Because of that, a huge part of you hoped that you would see her again. 

~

heyyyyyy beautiful people! thanks for over 100 likes on This Isn’t Goodbye you guys gals and nb pals! i’m super super happy that you’ve been enjoying this series so far! still have no idea how many more parts this will be just yet lol but i really appreciate every one of you for the love <3  

*also the title was inspired by the song Dreams Tonite by Alvvays in case you were curious ;)*

taglist: @chicken-wang09​ @trikruismybitch​ @sodangtired​

[amjustagirl]

The sky of the sky (of the tree called life)

Pairing: Suga x reader

AO3 Link Here:

Summary: She doesn’t take much notice of him at first, not when he’s one of thirty nine faces that greet her with varying degrees of interest when their teacher introduces her to the class.But then he hits her in the face with his friendship and she starts to get to know him - through the smallest things, in the littlest ways.

Author’s Notes: This is the first fic I wrote and initially posted as a lone (AO3 link (was still getting the hang of Tumblr lol). Lifted the title from ‘I carry your heart’ by E.E. Cummings. Anyways - this is my humble attempt at a fic, my love letter to one Sugawara Koushi. 

Ume doesn’t take much notice of him at first, not when he’s one of thirty nine faces that greet her with varying degrees of interest when their teacher introduces her to the class. She doesn’t take much notice of anyone really, not when her mind is consumed with thoughts of college prep and exams and chores, so he remains a stranger, even after weeks of sitting next to him in class.

Still, he greets her every morning with a pleasant ‘Ohayo’, and doesn’t take offense when she merely responds with a small smile. He offers up his notes without comment when she asks to check her English notes against his, and even occasionally slips her a banana from the stash he always seems to be carting around. His grades are decent and his homework is always submitted on time so he’s popular with their teachers, even though he seems to spend most of his break time sketching what looks like volleyball plays or buried in heated discussions with Sawamura.

Overall, he seems like a nice boy - if a little obsessed with volleyball.

She looks at her lunch box in dismay. There should be food in it, rice and tamago and fish that she most definitely packed last night, but her lunch box sits on her desk, clean and empty. She groans, glancing at the clock. Five minutes after the lunch bell. She ponders on whether to wait until dinner or be jostled to death by a thousand teenagers, but then her stomach growls, loud enough for Yuna-san in the front row to turn and stare at her, so she supposes there isn’t much of a choice.

As she approaches the canteen, she can hear the usual bustle and sound of too many students trying to feed themselves in too small a space - but then she hears a shrill shout - ‘cream buns for sale’, and the immediate cacophony of excited shouts that follow makes her think that her chances of getting food in the next half hour plummet to precisely zero.

Her assessment is right, but that doesn’t stop her mouth from dropping in horror as the canteen practically descends into a warzone, her schoolmates collectively losing their minds. The girls’ tennis team looks like they’re leading a charge through the left, but they’re being resisted by the concert band. The volleyball boys’ team seems like they’re causing plenty of chaos down the centre. Sawamura-san, engaged in a vigorous shoving match with the basketball captain, and Azumane-san - the large, quiet boy she shares home economics class with, cowering while trying to swim through the crowd with a feral looking boy perched on his back.

She apologises silently to her stomach and turns to head back to class.

‘Imai-san!’ Sugawara waves at her from the back of the crowd. ‘I’ll help you get some buns! What do you want!’

‘Oh – two buns, any flavour?” she calls back, a little dazed. He answers with a cheerful thumbs up.

She watches bemusedly as he expertly weaves his way through the crowd to Azumane-san, gesturing wildly to the little boy on her back, before combining forces with a bald boy to shove Azumane-san bodily through the crowd to the front of the queue. The boys grab armfuls of buns each, elbowing the displeased soccer team in the face.

Sugawara spins around, and there’s a glint in his eye that she can recognise from far away (courtesy of being an older sister to two troublesome younger brothers), but her legs don’t move despite her mind hollering at her danger, danger, Imai Ume, even as he raises his arm to toss the buns to her.

One bun lands neatly in her hands. The other smacks her right between her eyes.

She yelps, hands clapping over her face, checking to ensure her glasses are still in one piece. A curry bun may be relatively light and fluffy, but it still hurts when used as a flying projectile.

She hears footsteps clatter towards her. ‘Oh my god, I’m so sorry - please don’t cry!” Sugawara says, his voice high pitched in worry, hovering next to her awkwardly. “Daichi will never let me get over it if I make a girl cry.’

She snorts despite the sting between her eyes. “It’s fine, Sugawara-san. Thank you for helping get some food’.

‘Are you sure? Maybe we should go to the nurse’s office just in case!’ he fusses, shuffling his weight from one foot to the other nervously, ‘I’m such an idiot, I can’t believe I missed that toss, I should just resign from the volleyball team already - ‘

‘Eh eh eh? Suga - what’s this talk about resigning from volleyball!’ The small, feral boy from earlier leaps onto Sugawara’s back.

‘How can you resign? This is the year we’re making it to Nationals!’ the bald boy rounds up the rear, yelling at Sugawara indignantly.

‘I missed a toss at my classmate, I’m no longer qualified to be a setter.’ Sugawara wails, unfazed by the weight of his two juniors on his back. ‘I should just die now’

‘YOU THINK YOU’RE ASAHI NOW EH, DRAMA QUEEN!’

She takes advantage of their chaos to slip back to class. They don’t get a chance to speak to each other again for the rest of the day, kept busy with classes on calculus and chemistry for the rest of the afternoon. But the next morning he crows a loud ‘Ohayo’ at her, and she smiles at him, wider than she did before. 

----------------------------------- 

Spring passes into summer surprisingly quickly, and Ume slowly, but surely, gets used to hearing the song of the cicadas in evenings instead of the rumble of cars in the streets, to the uphill bike commute she takes to ferry both herself and Yuji to school and kindergarten respectively.

Becoming accustomed to something doesn’t mean liking it though. She remembers her mother saying that things would be easier when they move to Karasuno from the city. That living with family in a close knit community like Karasuno means more hands on deck to keep their family afloat. For the most part, Ume supposes her mother’s right. Her grandparents are sweet and try their best to help out, if a little too old to chase Yuji around the house or fetch him up and down the mountain to preschool every day. Their neighbours always offer them too much food, and their grandchildren provide Yuji with enough entertainment most evenings for Ume to catch up with schoolwork and revision.

But sometimes, after she’s corralled an unruly Yuji to bed, and shooed a sullen Keiji to sleep, and she herself can’t fall asleep because the cicadas are too damn loud, Ume wonders if her mother uprooted them to Karasuno so she could run away from the fact that she’s stuck raising three children alone, disappearing off on such long business trips that Yuji doesn’t even ask her anymore if their mama’s coming home.

Thankfully, Yuji, with the short memory of a six year old, finds living in the countryside a joy. He joins the neighbour’s children in catching cicadas, and when she tells him that it’s cruel to catch animals for sport – even ones as annoying as cicadas, he laughs and promises that he always lets them go.

Keiji, though, remains quiet and withdrawn, hiding in the bedroom whenever he’s home from school. She tries chatting with him at the dinner table but her efforts are usually met with the surly silence of a thirteen year old. So she doesn’t push him too much, too fast - she already asks too much of him as it is, sharing most of the chores and supervising Yuji so they don’t become a burden to their grandparents.

So it’s a surprise when Keiji asks if they can head to the park for a picnic on a clear summer’s day, but she agrees immediately, swallowing her shock, making sure to pack onigiri and fruit and strapping Yuji to her bike. It’s strange when Keiji drags them all over the park looking for the perfect picnic spot. It’s even stranger when he decides that the playground, full of shrieking children, should be the appropriate spot for a picnic. But there’s a tree for shade and it’s convenient enough for her to watch Yuji while he runs loose in the playground, so she holds her tongue and spreads their picnic mat on the floor.

‘Can I get us some ice cream?’ Keiji asks.

She’s about to tell him to wait til he has proper food in his stomach before moving on to dessert, but catches sight of Keiji staring at the ice cream stand intently, hands in pockets, cheeks flushed pink. She follows his gaze. The ice cream stall looks fairly old, run by an oba-chan and a young girl with short hair and a cheerful smile. Oh.

‘Why don’t you go get an ice cream for yourself? Yuji and I can get some later’, Ume replies, busying herself with the picnic basket to hide her smile.

She settles on the mat, back against the tree, setting her textbook on her lap. The summer air is crisp and cool, and the sunlight shining through the leaves dances on her skin.

‘Hey Imai!’ Suga stops to greet her, hand raised in a friendly wave.

‘Hello!’ she waves back. ‘No volleyball practice today?’

‘No - we have a mandated break on Saturday afternoons’, he walks over to her. ‘Despite what my unruly kouhai think, overtraining causes injuries. Besides, we need time for summer homework’.

She nods, noticing the stack of books under his arm, and before her brain processes her sudden impulse fully, she asks ‘Do you want to join me? We can share the mat’.

He blinks at her, and she cringes internally, expecting him to politely decline. He may chatter at her absentmindedly about his team, and she may share her notes with him when she notices he’s distracted, but it’s not as if they’re friends outside of school. To her surprise though, he agrees easily, kicking off his shoes to join her on the mat. They sit together in silence, absorbed in their respective work. The sun is warm but the breeze is cool and crisp, so it’s comfortable and altogether pleasant.

‘Onee-chan’, Keiji calls, running back over. He raises an eyebrow when he notices Suga and drops into a slight bow before turning to his sister. ‘Can I have my onigiri? I want to pass it to my friend.’

She opens her mouth to nag him to make sure that he has lunch, but promptly shuts it. Instead, she tosses him two onigiris - hers, and his. ‘Make sure you eat, Keiji’, she calls, and he’s off, running with the wind.

‘Hey, Imai, I packed too much food. Share some of it with me?’ Suga offers mildly. She’s about to say no, thank you politely, but her stomach growls - traitor, and he just chuckles at her, snapping his lunchbox open and pressing half his sandwich into her hands. She thanks him, taking a bite and has to stop herself from moaning in delight because it’s full of egg mayo and chicken katsu and it’s so, so good.

‘It’s delicious, right?’ he says, grinning around a mouthful of his half of the sandwich. ‘You can’t study on an empty stomach, that’s against the law’.

She laughs at that and splits her stash of strawberries and watermelon with him.

Later, she shocks herself again when she tells him as he’s about to leave that she’ll probably be at the park again next Saturday - and he’s welcome to join her if he pleases. She wonders if he can see the uncertainty in her eyes, but he shoots her another smile and agrees.

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

She packs two extra onigiris next Saturday, and the Saturday after that. She also starts including peaches from her grandparents’ farm because she learns that he has a weakness for them.

Keiji ignores Suga for the most part, leaving for the ice cream stand as soon as they arrive in the park. Yuji, on the other hand, soon learns he can get Suga to do whatever he wants if he pouts long enough. Suga, for his part, does not help, often buying the little boy far too much mochi and ice cream.

‘Stop it Yuji.’ Ume says wearily. ‘Suga needs to study and you’re distracting him’.

‘But he’s the only one I know who can push me hard enough on the swings’, Yuji whines, scruffing his shoes into the ground.

‘It’s fine, I’ll take it as my break’, Suga says, smiling kindly down at the little boy. ‘Shall we see how high you can fly, Yuji-chan?’

She watches, shaking her head as Yuji cheers, dragging Suga off in the direction of the playground.

‘You seem good with kids’, she remarks when he returns - thankfully after a short while since Yuji, with the typical attention span of a six year old, is quickly distracted by the other kids playing a game of tag.

‘You think so?’ Sugawara responds, turning back to his books. ‘That’s good to know. I’m planning on going to college to train to be a teacher.’

The image of him dressed in a rumpled shirt and tie greeting his class with a cheerful ‘Ohayo’ every morning flashes in her mind. She imagines him smiling wide and indulgent at his student’s pranks, listening patiently to his students’ questions and problems, diligently pouring over his students’ assignments late into the night.

For some reason, her heart clenches. She doesn't know why.

----------------------------------- 

‘Tohoku Medical school?’, he asks, eyeing the flyer sticking out of her bag.

‘Mm.’ she mumbles, distracted by the peach juice running down her hands. Then she realises what he’s just said and wrinkles her nose. ‘The entrance exam is hard though. Not a lot of people pass.’

‘Ugh, stop that, your grades are so good- negativity begone!’ He nudges her teasingly with his elbow. She rolls her eyes at him in response.

‘Why, though?’ he asks, before quickly adding. ‘If you don’t mind saying’.

She’s about to rattle off her prepared answer of heeding the noble calling of saving lives and making a difference one person at a time, but for some reason, she doesn’t.

Instead, she jerkily answers - ‘My dad was a doctor’.

She can feel him raise his eyebrows at her use of past tense (and not present tense) and suddenly the peach in her hand doesn’t seem as appetising as it was before.

‘Cancer’, she finds herself saying. ‘Last year’. She looks down at her feet, refusing to see what she expects will be pity in his gaze.

But he doesn’t say anything. He leans his shoulder against hers, and they stay that way for a while.

She doesn’t protest this time when he comes back from the ice cream stall with far too much ice cream, and the tightness in her chest dissipates as she watches him let Yuji flit between his chocolate and vanilla cones like a honeybee, even though she knows she’s going to have a hard time putting the little boy to bed tonight.

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

'I like Suga-san very much.' Yuji declares later as she tucks him into bed.

'So do I', Ume says. So do I’.

The call of the cicadas don’t seem as loud, and she falls asleep easily that night.

 -----------------------------------

‘You should be studying’, she reminds him, playfully rapping on his knuckles with her pen.

He scratches the back of his neck sheepishly, looking up from his sketches on volleyball plays. ‘A couple more minutes and I’ll get back to work’.

She shakes her head indulgently at him. ‘You spend far too much time on volleyball as it is’.

‘I suppose I do’, he hums, busy drawing indecipherable pictures in what she’s termed his volleyball notebook.

She’s suddenly reminded of Yamada and Takashi, the two basketball idiots in her class, goading Suga about ‘being a loser for losing his starting position to a first year’. Sawamura usually erupts in anger when he hears them as he’s wont to do whenever he encounters the basketball club, but Suga, for his part, only responds with a serene smile.

‘Is it worth it?’ she asks, before she can stop herself. ‘Sorry’ she says frantically, as her brain catches up with her mouth. ‘That was rude of me’.

He breathes a rueful laugh through his nose. ‘It’s fine, I’m not offended’. But he stops his scribbling, and his mouth slants downward in a way that Ume doesn’t quite like.

‘It’s worth it’, he then says, voice quiet but full of conviction. ‘It’s worth it to play with my team. I want us to keep getting stronger, I want us to keep playing together, and I want us to go to Nationals and win’. He gazes into the distance and smiles, bittersweet. ‘And everything else doesn’t matter’.

It’s her turn to lean into him with her shoulder.

‘I’ll bring Yuji to watch you at the finals’, she says. ‘And we’ll watch you at Nationals on our TV’.

He laughs and she smiles, wide and bold and bright.

---------------------------------- 

Sugawara spends their lunch breaks talking about his team’s latest exploits all the time. She laughs when he tells her about the hijinks that the team constantly gets up to, from setting fire to the Vice Principal’s very obvious toupee, to an all out prank war with the basketball team featuring copious amounts of dead fish and paint bombs. She particularly enjoys Suga’s impression of Nishinoya’s ‘rolling thunder’ war cry, and rather suspects the whole team is intent on driving Sawamura into an early grave.

Despite having a tendency to smile indulgently at his team’s penchant for chaos and hellfire, it’s clear that Suga cares deeply for each and every one of his teammates. He broods about Tsukkishima’s lack of ambition and desire to bond with the team, Yamaguichi’s lack of confidence, Kageyama’s and Hinata’s inability to communicate like regular human beings. Even when he jokes about Ennoshita’s latest attempt to evade Sawamura’s talks about ‘passing on the captainship’, she can sense the undercurrent of worry and concern.

Perhaps that’s why she volunteers to give tutoring Tanaka and Nishinoya a go, after he explains that they’ll end up missing the Tokyo Training Camp that Takeda-sensei went through so much trouble to arrange. She also tells herself that the reason she’s doing it is because Second year Math is covered in the university entrance exams - and absolutely not because Suga practically lights up with relief when she waves his thanks away.

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

Tanaka and Nishinoya remind her of Yuji and even Keiji (well, before), rowdy and loud and full of boyish mischief. They fall out of their chairs when they notice Kiyoko-san walk by the classroom deep in conversation with some boy, and she has to rap them on their knuckles with a pen to get them to focus on solving question number two - please and thank you - before they settle back down.

Still, they’re surprisingly attentive and almost respectful even when she’s trying to impress upon them the dryer points of Math, so it’s easy to become fond of them. They get through vectors after she likens the trajectory of vectors to the movement of a volleyball. Statistics were a struggle, but fortunately, volleyball statistics save the day. Calculus seems to be the biggest hurdle, but she’s hopeful they’ll get it, once she finds a way to relate it to volleyball or better yet, convince them that differentiation and integration are very, very manly pursuits.

That said, it doesn’t help that the basketballers in her class seem to have a deep rooted grudge against the volleyball team - though from Suga’s stories, the animosity is probably mutual. Yamada in particular seems to take special pleasure in taunting the two boys.

‘Eh, Baldy! Y’all lose another game yet? I saw you guys crying the other day after school’.

‘They’d probably win more games if chibi-chan here grew a few inches’, Takashi, his fellow basketballer sniggers.

‘Ignore them’, she tells the two growling boys firmly. ‘You don’t need to get kicked out of your team for starting a fight with these guys’.

‘Awww… are you two kouhai hiding behind your female senpai? ’ Yamadai jeers, leering at them. ‘What losers, just like your Suga-senpai. Heard he got turfed out of his starting position by a first year’.

At that, Tanaka and Nishinoya practically levitate out of their seats as one, snarling ‘Huh?!!! You fucking -’

‘Bit rich of you to pick on them, eh Yamada?’ Ume interrupts. ‘I heard Ono-senpai say last week that if you fail your tests one more time, you’re going to get kicked out of the basketball team. Who’s the loser now?’

‘Bitch!’ Yamada growls, hands slapping his desk.

‘Maybe you’d have a better shot at passing your exams if you spent your time studying instead of disturbing others - who unlike you are actually working hard,’ she adds, smiling at him sweetly.

Thankfully, Takashi has some sense of self-preservation and drags Yamada kicking and screaming out of the door. Tanaka and Noya swivel their heads towards her, twin expressions of shock on their faces.

‘Holy shit, that was so manly?!’

‘Imai-senpai, you’re almost as cool as Kiyoko-senpai!’

‘Yeah - almost as good as the time she ignored us when we asked her to marry us.’

‘No - better, but not as good as the time she slapped me’

‘Thank you’, she responds dryly. ‘Can we get back to differentiation, please?

‘Yes, Imai-senpai!’ They snap into a salute.

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

‘I hear from Tanaka and Noya that you’re very manly’. His eyes twinkle at her.

‘Psh’, she says airily. ‘They exaggerate’.

But she laughs when he slips her half his sandwich as thanks.

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

Noya and Tanaka pass their exams (by some miracle, thank god), and they graduate from her tutoring sessions.

She passes her exams too, tops her cohort even.

Her classmates start to take more notice of her, requesting for copies of her notes and tutoring sessions on topics they don’t really grasp. It's not really that much of a problem to just have an extra set of notes for her classmates to copy (she learnt her lesson when Takashi spills juice all over her precious biology notes - an accident, of course), and extra tutoring sessions are a good way for her to revise what she previously learnt - so she doesn’t really mind.

Of course she knows they think they're picking her brains and hard work, but it's not as if she minds. They're reasonably polite when they approach her, and she can pretend she doesn’t hear them gossip about her behind her back (that her parents are rich enough to send her to not one, but two cram schools, that they must know the principal who leaked the exam topics to her somehow).

Still, she can’t help but feel a spike of irritation when Yamada manages to corner her alone in class one day after school.

‘Oi, Ikai. Can you give me a copy of your math notes? I hear they're pretty good.'

She blinks innocently at him. ‘My notes cover whatever sensei taught in class if you were listening’. Which he probably wasn't, considering he seems to spend most of his time tossing spitballs or bouncing a basketball obnoxiously against the wall.

‘Tch.’ He leans towards her. ‘Come on, don’t be a stingy bitch. Just lend them to me for a bit.’

She narrows her eyes at the audacity of this bugger. 'No.' she says simply.

'Eh?' Yamada glares down at her.

'Did a basketball hit you too hard in the head yesterday? I said no.' She turns her back on him, packing her school bag, keeping her sharpest pencil in her hand, just in case.

He takes a step closer towards her, both hands heavy on her desk. 'But you share your notes with everyone else!’

‘Well, yes - but that’s because they're tolerably polite when they ask, and unlike you, they actually get my name right.’

He slaps her table hard with his hands. ‘Stop being a bitch, just give me your notes already'.

She should just give him what he's asking for or placate him with the promise that she'll give him a copy tomorrow - but she suddenly feels so sick and tired of giving more and more of herself - to her mother, her brothers, her classmates, and now this rude asshole - and she's so done, goddamnit.

'No.' She snaps, lifting her chin defiantly at him. 'What are you going to do about it?'

He snarls, grabbing hold of her wrist. 'Stubborn bitch, just give me the notes already!'

'Let go, pig!', she shouts, trying to wrench her wrist away, mind whirring to calculate the force and speed needed to shove her pencil into his face. His grip tightens, and he digs his nails into the thin skin of her wrist.

He smirks down at her. She tries not to flinch.

'Hey, Imai. Got worried about you when you didn’t turn up at the library.' Suga calls out, loud and clear from the door. Ume exhales a breath she didn’t even know she was holding as he walks deliberately towards them.

‘Yamada-san. I always knew you were an asshole, but I didn’t know you stooped so low you’d bully a girl’.

Yamada takes a half step back, but does not release her hand. 'Piss off, Suga. It’s none of your business'.

‘Perhaps’, he responds, humming diffidently. ‘But I thought I should remind you that if you get just one more strike on your disciplinary record, you’re off the basketball team’. His mouth stretches into a semi feral smile. ‘For good.’

Yamada coils back, looking as if he’d like nothing better than to strike Suga in the face, but then, seemingly thinking the better of it, he drops Ume’s wrist and smirks again. ‘We were just having a friendly discussion, eh Imai?’

‘Remind your thick skull to keep it that way.’ Suga says, meeting Yamada’s glare with an even gaze of his own.

Yamada looks away. 'Tch. I can't be bothered with you dumbasses', he sneers, stalking out of the class.

‘Are you ok?’ Suga asks her immediately, glancing at her once over, stopping short when he spots the red welts ringed around her wrist. ‘Did he do that to you?’ he asks, voice dangerous.

‘I’m fine.’ She follows his gaze and yanks her sleeve down, hiding the marks from view. ‘It’s nothing.’

He opens his mouth, about to insist that it is very much not fine, but she cut him off quickly. ‘Really! It’s my fault he got annoyed with me. He wanted a copy of my notes and I was very rude and didn’t want to give them to him,’ she laughs awkwardly. ‘Besides, it’s a good thing you stepped in when you did, or I’d have gotten into more trouble - because I was about to stab him with my pencil’.

Suga’s mouth drops open. ‘With your what?’

She unfurls her palm to show him her pencil, pink and sharp but altogether unconvincing.

He bursts into cackles, wheezing. ‘Maybe Tanaka should’ve taken his time to get me. I would’ve liked to see you try to fight Yamada with that’.

She snorts. ‘I’m just glad Tanaka showed some self-restraint and didn’t jump Yamada himself.’

‘Well, I’m pretty sure that’s because Ennoshita was there to stop him.’ Suga says wryly. He drops his gaze back to her wrist. ‘But seriously, if I’d known he hurt you, I’d have jumped him too’.

She looks at him sharply. ‘Suga… If any one of you get suspended, you can’t play in the Inter High Preliminaries.’

‘Not if we don’t get caught for it’. He gives her a zen smile as she splutters in shock. ‘Anyway, don’t you usually leave school to pick Yuji-chan up by now?’

‘Oh no, Yuji’s probably waiting for me!’ She cries out in alarm, dashing across the classroom.

At the doorway, she comes to a pause and turns around. ‘Suga!’

‘Mm?’ He tilts his head at her.

She smiles shyly. ‘Thanks’.

He smiles back. 

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

She ends up preparing a copy of her notes for Yamada anyway. He’s stubborn and stupid, and she figures that Suga’s interference, while welcome in the moment, is only likely to spur him on to pester her again. But when she walked into class the next morning, Yamada is nowhere to be found.

‘Did you hear Yamada-kun got caught with the vice principal’s burnt wig in his locker?’ she hears Yuna whisper to Mizuki before the bell rings.

‘Oh no! Is he in a lot of trouble?’ Mizuki gasps.

‘I don’t know, but I heard from Takashi that he’s been suspended from the basketball team indefinitely!’

‘No! Don’t they have a game next week?’

Ume looks over her shoulder at Suga, sitting with a self-satisfied smirk on his face.

‘I may have mentioned to Noya what happened with Yamada-san. Tanaka, of course, was very happy to help out’, he says simply when she corners him after school.

Yamada does return to class eventually, but he refuses to even look in her direction for the next month. She figures she’d much rather not press for answers she suspects she wouldn’t like. Instead, she spends the night cutting out twelve crow charms from black felt with the help of a very eager Yuji, hand stitching each member’s number in white thread and leaving them in Suga’s bag for him to find.

 ------------------------------------

She sneaks Yuji with her when the school buses students in for Karasuno’s match with Shiratorizawa.

They all watch with tears in their eyes when the final whistle blows and the boys win.

‘Congratulations, Suga’, she tells him the next day and adds. ‘I think Yuji’s found a new way to fly’.

He grins at her, his eyes burning proud and bright.

 ------------------------------------

Fall fades into winter. The days start looping, one after another.

Wake up. Get Yuji to kindergarten. School. Homework. Pick Yuji up. Make dinner. Pack leftovers for lunch. Do laundry. Revision. Tuck Yuji into bed. More Revision. Sleep.

Rinse. Repeat. Rinse. Repeat.

She curses when the cock crows every morning, and falls asleep before her head hits the pillow every night, so she wonders how he manages to survive with practices lasting daily into the night. Or maybe he doesn’t, she thinks to herself, watching the shadows beneath his eyes grow, grey and dark.

‘Is it worth it?’ she asks. (Do you ever regret it, she implies.)

‘Yes.’ he says. (At least I hope I don’t, he sighs.)

 ----------------------------------

 She notices immediately when his seat is empty. Sawamura tells her it’s to be expected, Suga always catches a cold in winter.

‘I don’t mind helping to bring his homework to him’, she volunteers. ‘You’re going to be staying late in school for practice anyway’. She avoids Sawamura’s knowing look as she writes Suga’s address down, his homework tucked safely into her bag. 

His mother beams, surprised and delighted when she appears at their door. She’s promptly shooed upstairs, and Yuji is lured into the kitchen with promises of mochi and ice cream. She knocks on the open door. He’s crouched on the bed, watching a replay of Karasuno’s finals match against Shiratorizawa.

‘Hey. I brought your homework.’ She frowns, noting the paleness of his face despite the redness of his cheeks. ‘Shouldn’t you be resting?’

‘I’m watching the match to fall asleep!’ he says defensively.

‘The match is at least two hours long! If you’re well enough to watch the match, you’re well enough to do your homework’.

‘Give me a break’. He groans, sneezing into the crook of his elbow. ‘I’m dying here’.

‘I’m pretty sure you can’t die from a common cold’ she says dryly.

‘Says the one who wants to be a doctor’, he playfully responds.

She rolls her eyes. ‘Don’t argue with me. Get some rest. You don’t have much time before you head off to Tokyo for Nationals, and the Center Shinken* is just after that’.

His smile drops, and he suddenly looks troubled. ‘Do you think I’m crazy?’

(For chasing too many dreams?)

She blinks, confused by his change in mood. She glances at the Miyagi University of Education pamphlet pinned to his wall - only one in three applicants get in. She furrows her brow, thinking about him spending every lunch break, every afternoon and night in their rundown school gym, even as everyone else is spending their days buried in schoolwork and revision.

But then she hears the echo of his words - It’s worth it. I want to play with my team, the cries from the huddle of boys, the memory of him holding a trophy under bright lights and her face softens.

‘Where’s all this self-doubt coming from?’ she says lightly. ‘You already achieved your dream of going to Nationals with your team. Now all you have to do is pass one exam.’

‘As if it’s so easy!’

‘Well, it’d be easier if you rest up so you can get back to work faster!’

‘Ugh, spoilsport’, he pouts at her.

‘Onee-chan’, Yuji pipes up, poking his head into the bedroom. 'Obaa-san said it's time for Suga-san to eat his medicine and take a nap.'

‘Hello, Yuji-chan!’ Suga waves at Yuji, who gives him a gap toothed grin in response.

‘You should tuck him in and tell him a bedtime story’. Yuji tells his sister seriously. She chokes and thinks she should have taken the chance to dump him under a bridge when he was a baby.

Suga laughs so hard he wheezes. 'I won't mind a bedtime story' he chokes out.

Both boys turn to look at her expectantly. 'Fine.' she says, relenting. 'I’ll tell you a bedtime story if you promise you'll try your best to go to sleep'.

They grin and settle down, Yuji on his sister’s lap, Suga laying against his nest of pillows.

She begins telling them a story she’s told Yuji many, many times these past months - about a kind-hearted Prince in a kingdom troubled by a yearly winter plague, who set out to find the cure for this illness, flowers that bloom on the highest of mountains in the deepest, darkest winter days. A Prince who tries to scale the mountain to find the cure, year after year, but is thwarted by blizzards and avalanches and snow monsters.

A small smile grows on his lips as she describes the Prince’s companions - the stalwart captain of his guards, the burly woodcutter with a heart of glass, and he stifles a laugh when she recounts how the Prince manages to trick his frosty hearted little brother to join them along the way. His breath evens out when she reaches the end of her tale, when the Prince and his companions scale the mountain and look down on a field of flowers, green and gold.

'And they lived happily ever after?' Suga murmurs, half asleep.

'And they lived happily ever after' Ume agrees.

She pulls his blanket up under his chin as he slips into sleep, hesitating as warmth furls and unfurls in her chest, before brushing her hand tenderly against his cheek.

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

Third years are released from school for self-study.

She works alone at home. The winter days grow long and dark and hard.

(Her heart clenches. It starts to ache.)

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

They graduate on a spring day, a shower of pink and white petals blessing their way. He catches up to her in the hallway after the graduation ceremony, hand at her sleeve.

‘Congrats on Tohoku’, he tells her, bright eyed. ‘I knew you could do it’.

‘Congrats on MUE’, she responds with a laugh. ‘See - you weren’t crazy after all’.

‘I suppose I’ll be seeing you around Sendai City? Your campus isn’t too far from mine.’

She opens her mouth to tell him not to be silly - Sendai City is nothing like Karasuno town, a million people within its bounds, and the probability of them meeting randomly on the streets is very, very small, but her throat suddenly becomes dry.

‘Suga’ she begins, balling her hands into fists.

‘Mm?’ he beams at her, brighter than the sun, and it’s all she can do to not to look away.

‘Thank you’, she says quietly. ‘For bringing some light into my life’.

‘I should be thanking you’, he replies earnestly. ‘You’ve been a good friend to me this past year. I don’t think I’d have passed my exams without you’.

“No, Suga,’ she says. ‘I mean - I like you’.

‘Oh.’ he breathes. ‘Oh’.

‘I like you’, she repeats, her voice growing stronger. ‘Because you were kind to me when there was no reason to. You bought bread for me, even if you ended up throwing it in my face. You stole and burnt a wig for me, just to put Yamada in his place. You spent your summer days buying Yuji too much ice cream, swinging him so high he thought he could touch the sky.’

‘I like you, Suga,’ she says finally. ‘Not just as a friend - but as a girl likes a boy.’

He stares at her, eyes wide. A few beats of silence pass.

‘I’m sorry’. He grimaces. ‘I don’t know what to say’.

‘It’s fine’, she finds herself saying. ‘It’s ok’.

(Her heart clenches. She wills it not to break.)

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

Ume does not look back. Her bag is packed, and she leaves for Sendai City that week.

Her apartment is small, but she shares it with a few other girls. At night, she re-acquaints herself with the sound of cars rumbling on the street. The song of the cicadas haunts her in her sleep.

(Her heart clenches. She does not break.)

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

Suga prides himself on being relatively observant and good with things like subtlety and tact and feelings - things that volleyball obsessed idiots like Daichi wouldn’t even notice if it hit him in the face.

He observes people and notices things, the way Kiyoko isn’t as indifferent to Tanaka as she seems, the way Yamaguchi’s serve suddenly improves when Yachi shouts ‘Gambatte’, the way Yui’s vocabulary immediately regresses whenever she’s talking to Daichi - though to be fair, he’s certain the only person in their level to not know about Yui’s crush on Daichi himself, so maybe that doesn’t count.

(‘I like you, Suga,’ he hears her say. ‘Not just as a friend - but as a girl likes a boy.’)

But then his brain short circuits and stutters to a stop, and it’s all he can do to watch dumbly as Ume turns on her heel and walks off, head high, back straight, he wonders if he’s not much better than the rest of them after all.

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

‘Imai Ume said she likes me’. He finds himself telling Daichi, as they walk home from school, pork buns in hand, for the very last time.

Daichi grunts something unintelligible through a mouthful of pork bun.

‘Use your words, Daichi’. Suga can’t help but snark. Daichi grumbles and swallows.

‘Yes. I knew that already’. Daichi says simply. He starts on his second pork bun.

‘What?’ Suga retorts. ‘What do you mean you know? How did you know?’

This time, Daichi chews and swallows before he responds. ‘It was obvious to me.’ He turns to look at Suga squarely. ‘So what are you going to do about it?’

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

(‘I’m Sugawara Koushi! But everyone just calls me Suga’. // ‘Imai Ume. It’s nice to meet you.’)

To be honest, he didn't think much of her at first when she joined their class. She had a habit of keeping to herself, never lingering in class before or after lessons, eating lunch alone at her desk, nose buried in a book, but he was brought up with good manners - so he kept greeting her every morning until her small nods turn into quiet smiles.

Of course, he just had to embarrass himself by hitting her in the face with a curry bun (Noya and Tanaka will never let him live it down), but in hindsight that probably kickstarted their friendship. And he’s very grateful for it. She's always passing him copies of her notes for lessons he’s missed or summaries of exam topics she thinks might come in useful, all painstakingly handwritten and colour coded - and even gives him the go-ahead to share it with Daichi. She volunteers to tutor Noya and Tanaka, and he’s sure that it’s in no small part due to her effort that they pass and get to attend training camp.

Yet he’s never considered her more than a friend. Right?

Right?

If he analyses the case of how he feels about one Imai Ume carefully, sifting through the puzzle pieces one at a time, he realises that he's not quite right.

There are little things that come to mind. Like his heart skipping a beat when he hears her laugh for the first time. The flush of his cheeks when he finds out she actually brought Yuji to watch their games. The rush of pride and joy when she tells him ‘I think he’s found a new way to fly’.

And maybe there are bigger things. Like the burst of blind panic in his chest when he hears Tanaka shout for him. The burning urge to break Yamada’s jaw and wipe that smirk off his ugly face when he sees red marks marring her skin. The cold satisfaction in his chest when he (and half the volleyball team) strike that bastard exactly where it hurts.

He remembers the sunshine dancing on her skin, the warmth of her shoulder pressed against his. The touch of her hand ghosting against his cheek. The faint memory of a fairytale about a Prince who gave his all and finds everything he set out to seek.

('And they lived happily ever after?' he asks // 'And they lived happily ever after' she agrees.)

The puzzle pieces fit. It finally clicks.

‘Shit,’ he swears, dialing Daichi’s number.

‘It’s midnight’, Daichi mumbles, voice rough with sleep. ‘What could you possibly want from me?’

‘I like Ume’, Suga says - and just saying it feels right. ‘I like her, Daichi’.

He hears an almighty yawn - and then he can almost see Daichi smile.

‘So what are you going to do about it?’

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

What is he going to do about it?

Get hold of one Imai Ume and tell her that his mouth moved faster than his brain (and heart), of course. 

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

But what can he do about it?

Not very much, as it turns out.

For starters, he realises they’ve never exchanged numbers. He never felt the need to, they were classmates, no, seatmates, so she was always there, like the sun and stars in the sky.

He tries to find where she lives by asking around but soon meets a dead end. Karasuno Town isn’t large by any measure, the main shopping street fanning out into a smattering of small rural neighbourhoods. But he knows for a fact that Ume stays with her maternal grandparents, and she’s never once mentioned their surname, so he’s left with little to go on.

‘At least I know she’s moving to Sendai City’, he mopes to Daichi over a steaming bowl of ramen.

Daichi, probably tired of the number of times he’s heard him repeat this, just slurps his noodles noisily.

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

He and Daichi rent a flat from a little old lady who pats their chests and pinches their cheeks. It’s halfway between their schools, five minutes from the convenience store, and the rent is pretty cheap.

They soon settle into the rhythm of university life. They cycle to school in the mornings for lectures, struggle with tutorials, and fight over chores. Their social life isn’t too shabby either - they both make plenty of friends and even join volleyball teams.

Still, Suga can’t help feeling like something’s missing. ‘Someone, not something, you dolt’, his inner voice tells him, sounding suspiciously like Daichi.

He starts seeing the ghost of her everywhere.

He stares when he sees the slant of her shoulders in his classmate in the front seat. He crashes into Daichi when he thinks he hears the birdsong of her laughter float down the street. He picks up a habit of doing a double take at almost every girl he meets.

‘Stop it’, Daichi tells him crossly. ‘People are going to think you’re some kind of freak or pervert.’

He tries, he really does. But then months pass, and he starts to think that maybe Sendai City, with its million residents and a million more trees, might have hidden her out of his reach.

 ---------------------------------- 

Summer arrives, and he returns home to Karasuno. He and Daichi and Asahi find themselves back in the school gym often, and he finds himself being dragged into practice match after practice match with his unruly kouhai. It’s a good way to spend his holidays, but he can’t help thinking if there isn’t a route he hasn’t explored yet.

‘No, Sugawara-kun, I can’t give you the contact details of our alumni, even if they’re your old classmates’, Takada-sensei says indignantly. ‘And don’t even think about breaking into the staff room at night!’

Eh. At least that was worth a try.

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

Tashiro senpai means well, he really does. But Daichi lets it slip that he’s been moping over some girl (‘For months!’, he roars), so on a Friday night, Suga finds himself thrust head first into a party at Tashiro’s apartment, surrounded by way too many people and not enough food. Daichi’s chatting with Yui (Go, Yui!), and he doesn’t know anyone else, so he doesn’t say no when Tashiro pushes cans of beer and cups of cheap spirits into his hands.

He’s a few months short of being able to legally drink, and it’s the first time he’s drinking outside his family home - but well, what Daichi doesn’t know won’t kill him. Soon though, the living room feels far too warm and the music is far too loud, so he figures he may as well seek fresh air and whatever refuge he can get on the cramped balcony beyond the kitchen.

He leans his forehead against the bannister. Gah. His head hurts. His stomach churns.

A raindrop splatters on to the back of his neck, then another, and soon he can hear the gentle patter of rain against the roof. He rights himself with a groan, and begins to head back inside. As he slides the glass door open, he turns and sees the silhouette of a girl emerge into the balcony, two apartments down, clearing her clothes from the laundry rack.

He stops. He can almost hear Daichi roaring at him at the back of his mind, but Suga can’t help but stare and think ‘there’s something awfully familiar about that girl’, but then - hasn’t he thought that about almost every girl he’s bumped into these past few months?

She takes a step forward and her face is lit by cheap fluorescent lights. He can see her clearly now, recognises the tilt of her chin, the curve of her cheeks and - by god, it’s her. His legs move and he lurches to the edge of the balcony, shouting her name like a loon.

Their eyes meet.

She yelps. And promptly drops her laundry basket, scrambling back inside.

He dashes back into Tashiro’s living room and trips into the corridor, ignoring Daichi’s shouts as he slams his fists into her front door. Her door remains stubbornly closed, and he keeps yelling, keeps beating her door. He can hear Daichi follow him, and he’s certain he’s going to get a bollocking tomorrow morning, but he doesn’t care, he’s finally found her in the midst of a million people and a million more trees and nothing else really matters.

The door swings open, and Imai Ume stands in the doorway looking livid. ‘My roommate is this close to calling the police,’ she hisses.

Daichi yanks him back with his shirt and snaps into a low bow. ‘Sorry for the trouble caused’, he says, and adds - that sly dog, ‘He may have drank a bit too much Umeshu’.

‘For God’s sake, Sawamura’, he faintly hears her squawk. ‘Can’t you take care of him a little better? He looks like absolute shit’.

Suga stares at her glassy-eyed. All he wants to do is to take her hand and tell her all the things he’s dreamt of saying these past few months (starting with I’m sorry I was an idiot- and ending with I missed you) - but his mind is suddenly foggy and his ears are ringing and his stomach keeps bloody churning and he suspects his body might have just given up on him completely.

‘I told you’, he manages to say. ‘I told you we’d see each other again’.

He pukes at her feet and promptly passes out. 

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

When he wakes up, the sun is high in the sky, and he knows because he’s pretty sure it’s trying to stab him between the eyes. He flops over to his side.

What happened last night?

He cracks an eye open. He’s pretty sure he isn’t wearing his own pyjamas. The sweatshirt he has on is a touch too snug, the pants a touch too short - so definitely not Daichi’s either. He can’t be in Tashiro-senpai’s room either, because one, he’s pretty certain floral bedsheets aren’t his thing, and two, if he squints, he can see a pile of medical textbooks in the corner that definitely does not belong to him.

He groans, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed, groping bleary eyed for his phone.

- You have 7 messages! -

[Daichi, 12.48am]: You are a very lucky man [Daichi, 12.48am]: Imai didn’t call the police on you [Daichi, 12.49am]: I had to clean up your puke [Daichi, 12.49am]: Wanted to lug you home but you’re heavier than you look [Daichi, 12.49am]: So she said to leave you and walk Michimiya home [Daichi, 12.50am]: Figure you’ll thank me anyway [Daichi, 12.51am]: Stay safe. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do

‘You have got to be kidding me’, he moans. Fuck. His head still hurts.

Ume pokes her head into the room. ‘Oh, you’re awake. Feeling better?’

He snaps his head up and immediately regrets it. ‘Ow’, he whines, dropping his head in his hands.

‘I guess not’, she says. ‘Here’, she pokes him in the side. ‘Spare toothbrush. Wash up, and I’ll get breakfast ready so you can eat some meds’. She tugs him to his feet and pushes him into the bathroom.

This isn’t how he imagined meeting Ume again would be like. Getting piss drunk, puking at her door, and passing out in her bed? He’d take getting arrested over this any day, he thinks, moping to himself. Not to mention Daichi's probably going to kill him when he gets back. He shudders, then winces as he splashes cold water into his face.

Ume waves him into the kitchen. ‘Sit’, she says, and so he does. She sets a bowl of rice and fish and miso soup in front of him. ‘Eat’ she says, sliding a bottle of aspirin and a cup of hot tea at him. His stomach still hurts, but he's not about to let her effort go to waste.

‘Ittakimasu’, he says, putting his hands together, inclining his head slightly. Ume nods and sits across him, sipping her tea.

‘Thank you’, he says contritely. 'I'm sorry for the trouble I caused last night'.

‘It’s no problem. I managed to convince my roommates you were just a drunk ex-classmate, not some rapist or serial killer so they let you in', she hums, amused.

He groans. ‘I’m so sorry’.

'It's fine', she says, waving him away. 'I think Sawamura was a lot more mad than my roommates, since he had to clear your mess and then wrangle you into clean clothes’.

‘Well I think Daichi got to walk Michimiya home last night, so I don’t think he’ll be too mad’, he says drolly. She laughs at that, turning to clear the dishes into the sink.

‘Hey, Imai’. He takes a gulp of his tea, his throat suddenly dry.

‘Mm?’

‘'I - I missed you - you know, as a friend', he stammers at his hands. 'And I’d like to see you again. Maybe we could catch up over dinner sometime this weekend?'

She stills for a few seconds. 'I don't think it’d be a good idea to do that', she finally says.

His heart clenches. He wonders if he’s too late - if the distance that Sendai city with its million people and a million more trees has put between them is too great, if she no longer remembers their shared smiles and golden summer days. But then he sees the stack of blankets tucked into the corner of the couch, sees the food she must have woken up early to make, and wonders how his past self could have been so blind.

‘Imai’, he says. She keeps her eyes resolutely on the dish sponge in her hands. He exhales, and tells himself that it’s his turn to be brave. He takes a step towards her.

‘Ume’, he repeats, taking her hands into his. ‘Look at me’.

‘Stop it Suga! My hands are soapy’, she cries.

‘Nevermind that’, he says stubbornly. ‘Listen - I’m an idiot - and a coward. I meant it when I said I missed you, but I didn’t mean it as a friend’.

‘Wha-’, she begins to say but he cuts her off.

‘I like you, Imai Ume’, he breathes, bringing her hands close to his face. ‘I really like you - as a boy likes a girl. I want to keep holding your hands. I want to see you again - see you everyday, if you’ll let me'.

Her eyes widen, then she blinks slowly - once, twice, thrice.

‘Do you mean it?’ she asks, her eyes meeting his, and he’s struck by the thought that the stars in her eyes are so bright they can light up the night sky.

‘Why would I lie?’ he answers. ‘I’ve been looking over my shoulder every day for the past six months, hoping desperately to see you again.’

‘Oh', she breathes. ‘Oh’.

She gives him a look so full of affection and warmth - like sunlight breaking through the rain - that he knows he was right to be brave, knows that the past six months of searching and dreaming and longing hadn’t been a waste.

‘So… I take it you want to see me again?’ he asks cheekily.

‘Maybe’, she says, but her voice is teasing and she leans on to her toes to press her lips gently against his cheek.

‘I - I take that as a yes?’ he stutters and hates himself for flushing a bright pink, but refuses to release her hands.

‘Let me wash my hands first. Then - yes’, and she laughs, wide and bold and bright. 

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

Coda

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

 He opens the door and smiles at what has become a very familiar sight these past few weeks - Ume fast asleep at the kitchen table next to a half empty pot of tea, head pillowed against her textbooks. Usually, he’d just scoop her up and put her to bed, but they’ve not had much time together this week, what with him running all over the prefecture with his fledgling team for practice matches, and she with work and exams, so he decides to be a little selfish.

‘Ume’, he calls, shaking her shoulder gently. ‘Dearest. Wake Up.’

‘Mmph. Five more minutes. Go away.’ She mumbles, pushing his hand away.

‘Ume. Ummmeee,’ He drags out her name, finding extra syllables where there were previously none until she stirs, grumbling incoherently and he has to stifle a laugh when she swipes her hand across her mouth.

‘Oh! It’s you. Welcome home’, she folds herself upright, rubbing her eyes slowly. ‘Where’s Yuji? How was the match?’

‘Of course it’s me – who else would it be?’ he chuckles. ‘I dropped Yuji off at Kei-kun’s place for a sleepover with the team, they promised not to stay up all night eating junk and watching crappy movies but I don’t believe them. The match was great - we won! Yuji-chan did really well, he earned quite a few points and saved a few balls. You would’ve been proud of him. I know I was.’

‘That’s good, I’m sure he’ll tell me all about it tomorrow when he’s back.’ She nods towards the fridge. ‘I made mapo tofu for dinner – not too spicy though, your stomach will thank me after that long bus ride back.’

He hums a thanks, sliding the plate into the microwave, narrating a play by play of their match today, stopping only when he hears a loud yawn.

‘Go to bed, Ume’, he frowns at the lines of exhaustion on her face. ‘I shouldn’t be keeping you up, you have a morning shift tomorrow.’

‘Mm – I will, later. Was waiting for you. Mm’ not that tired,’ she protests, but then yawns again so widely he’s pretty sure he hears her jaw crack.

‘Bedtime, sleepyhead’, he says teasingly, lifting her into his chest.

It’s a testament to how tired she is when she doesn’t try to swat at him as she usually does, choosing instead to wrap her arms around him, pressing her face into his neck. His breath hitches, and he wants nothing more than to hold her close and hide in bed preferably forever, but reminds himself that they’re adults now (with awful things like jobs and responsibilities and worse, bills to pay), so he settles her onto their bed, tucking the pillow beneath her head, the sheets under her chin.

‘Goodnight, sweetheart. We’ll catch up properly on the weekend’, he whispers, pressing a kiss into her dark hair.

‘Mmph, love you’, she mumbles, half asleep.

‘Love you too’, he shuts the door with a click, a soft smile on his face.

He’s mentioned off-hand to her before that they’re lucky to be this happy.

‘It’s not all luck’, he remembers her replying. ‘Happiness isn’t easy to come by. It’s a choice. It takes effort and hard work to earn that choice, and you need to take the time to build it up, brick by brick, piece by piece.’

He used to wonder what she meant by that - but six years in, and he thinks he finally understands what she means.

She’s meticulous in the way she makes him happy - the way she catalogues his quirks and deals patiently with his follies. How she knows to always leave food in the fridge for him after work so he won’t get cranky. How she tries her best to stay up and listen to him complain about his frustrations with pushy parents or irresponsible kids, how she tries to watch every one of his (and Yuji’s) games should time permit. He can see it even in the way she smiles indulgently when she sends him off with Daichi and Tanaka for izakaya and drinks.

For his part - he wonders if he does enough. He wakes up early most mornings to hitch a ride with her to work so they get a chance to chat about their day. He buys flowers from the florist down the street for her every week, and slips sandwiches and post-it notes in her work bag when he knows she’s had a long shift. He holds her close when she collapses on the couch, boneless and exhausted from a hard day.

He thinks about the life they share - weeknights spent sitting together, him sketching lesson plans and volleyball plays and she reading up for exams and work cases, weekends spent in grocery stores and parks and volleyball games. Six years together - they’re happy, and they show it in the quietest of ways.

They’re driving back to Karasuno this weekend - ostensibly to celebrate Keiji’s birthday and meet a couple of friends. But he’s conspired with Keiji and Yuji so he can sneak her away to the park for a picnic under the tree where they share memories of long, quiet talks and golden summer days. He’s hidden her ring in a picnic box full of homemade onigiri and sandwiches, strawberries and peaches.

He plans to go down on one knee and ask if she’d like to continue working on being happy with him forever.

He hopes she’ll say yes.

(She does.)