#<- prev tags on libraries that i agree with

[yesthatsatumbler]

I have a habit of taking books from bookcrossing, fully intending to read them, and then... well, not. I'm sure I'll return them at some point...

(I was feeling awkward about that until my grandmother died and we had to do something with her huge library, so we kept the books we actually wanted, gave away the books that our friends and/or her relatives were interested in, and most of the rest was carted off to bookcrossing shelves. Literally, in a grocery cart. It took several trips.

They were mostly gone within days - within hours in some cases - and I decided that my debt to bookcrossings had been paid off for several years in advance and I can return to taking the books and maybe reading them eventually.)

do you have a bad habit of buying books, fully intending to read them, and then not?

[cumplanecrash]

So apparently I only have time to format this at work, and the thing about work is, sometimes you have to do work there. This smallish section (under 800 words) rounds out what will be chapter 2, I think.

AO3 🔗 Shizun Babies AU tag 🔗 writeblogging Shizun Babies 🔗 first 🔗 prev

This was the part that they never showed you in the videogames: everyone needing to fuck off and bury their noses (or their disciples' noses) in some books. There would be no convenient "Ah, yes, I've heard of such a thing" or recently arrived tomes, like there would have been in the original Proud Immortal Demon Way; no search engines or algorithms like a more modern setting might fudge the downtime with. Everyone had to leave and go do research, because this wasn't in the book and/or because the System wanted to milk the situation for Heartwarming Points or something. Dinner'd been had, the very little they knew had been shared, and it was time for everyone to go their separate ways.

And Yue Qingyuan was absolutely bullying his precious disciple!!

They both stood by the front door, where Binghe had just returned with a stack of books from the Great Library, still clutching them as the sect leader loomed over the boy. Binghe wasn't done growing yet, while the sect leader was approaching 2 meters and as broad as an ox (that or Shen Qingqiu was shorter than Shen Yuan had been, which would be a trip and a half given usual fantasy logic), so it's not that hard for him to physically crowd Binghe without actually using overtly hostile body language.

[the finished version of this illustration goes here]

"It's very important that you understand that your Shizuns still have all of their adult faculties," Yue Qingyuan whisper-yelled at Luo Binghe. His back was turned to himself and Shen Jiu, as he had been about to leave, so Shen Yuan couldn't see Yue Qingyuan's face, but he could see Luo Binghe's polite-masking-intense-discomfort expression, so he could only imagine the intensity. "You must respect that they are grown adults, who have earned a high rank and the corresponding respect."

"Naturally," said Luo Binghe, sounding bewildered.

"But also," Yue Qingyuan took Luo Binghe's shoulder. "This curse makes them need to perform childish mannerisms against their will. So in a way, they also need adult supervision."

"This disciple is used to providing for Shizun during his flare-ups," Luo Binghe explained. "Providing amenities while being respectful is a skill this disciple has honed over the last year. And as for Lord Jiu, there are at least two things we agree on wholeheartedly, so this disciple thinks things will go rather smoothly this time around."

Bing-ge, what's the second thing?? Bing-ge? Shen Yuan bit down on his candy, hard.

"Luo-shizhi must contact me if he needs anything at all," Yue Qingyuan shook Luo Binghe by the shoulder.

"Qiii-ge," Shen Jiu whined, startling Shen Yuan where he sat next to him. "Let the boy put the books down before you make him piss himself, carrying on like that."

Shen Yuan wasn't the only one startled. Yue Qingyuan looked mildly sheepish after getting caught threatening Shen Yuan's precious little lamb. (Which, to be fair, he had excused Shen Jiu doing so much worse, so clearly this backwards-ass fantasy setting didn't understand how traumatizing being threatened by someone who you had no reasonable method to get away from could be. There was a reason the Revenge Against Shen Qingqiu arc had been so long and so well received, is all he's saying.) After relaxing from his startle, Luo Binghe sent Shen Jiu a grateful look, a sentence which had never before been thought in the entire PIDW fandom's history.

"Gimme gimme gimme," Shen Jiu demanded sardonically, going so far as to make grabby hands.

"You're doing that on purpose," Shen Yuan accused him.

Shen Jiu tilted his head back, and Shen Yuan was not preparee wail that came from so close. "Xiao Jiu wants his books now!!!"

Luo Binghe hurried past the sect leader, panic clear in his eyes as he brought five thick books to the table. As for Yue Qingyuan...

Shen Jiu immediately covered his mouth, bursting into giggles. "Qi-ge's face!" He gasped out, curling over onto his side towards Shen Yuan. Yue Qingyuan's dismayed expression was hilariously overblown, to be fair. Once the table was blocking the other two's view, Shen Jiu glanced up toward the cieling, and then did a tiny little dance, wiggling his hands and feet with a small smile.

That's what counts as heartwarming around here? System??? System are you broken?!? Shen Yuan demands to send a bug report!

[siriusblack-the-third]

Sirius Black: Hobbies and Interests

The second part of The Sirius Black Headcanons Series! Here, I explore what he would have loved to do, and I hope you enjoy reading these!

Prev

.

Loves flying, and is outstanding at it. Does not play Quidditch, but he does play air polo— polo on flying horses, or brooms if horses are not available. He does not care which one as long as he gets to play the sport. He also did competitive broom racing in school, and won a lot of trophies because he was just so bloody good at it. When James' mother gifted him a muggle bike for his 18th birthday, he enchants it to fly, and goes for a ride at least thrice a week. (James tried once to get Sirius to play Quidditch, but ended up getting roped into air polo himself.)

Competitive Duelling before he graduated Hogwarts and joined the Order. He participated everywhere— open circuits, a lot of closed competitions, and invite-only events— all over Europe and the Americas. Generally he was out of Hogwarts twice a month for two to three days, and he won a lot of them. He is an excellent duellist and everyone knows it; he won the U-19 Europe Open at the age of fourteen, a tournament that had over 2000 participants.

Playing the violin. It is the one thing apart from Duelling that his mother didn't force onto him as a child— he asked for classes of his own volition after seeing his grandmother Melanie play a truly beautiful tune when putting baby Regulus to sleep. He was naturally talented, and he practiced for years and years, and even after his tutor declared his education complete, he practised for at least 20 minutes every day. He played for himself rather than performing, and especially he played to put baby Harry to sleep, so much so that Harry would refuse to sleep if Sirius was not there.

Reads everything he can get his hands on. Everything. He prefers the genres of mystery, thriller, murder, historical and political fiction and mythologies of different religions. He and James devour books like they breathe air, both of them possessing excellent memory and being able to recall everything almost perfectly after only one read. Reading is a hobby he got from his father; they used to spend a lot of time together in the Black family library, debating topics ranging from Academics to Practical Magic to Ancient Philosophy to Current Affairs.

He enjoys spellcrafting a lot. Most of the pranks the Marauders play are planned with the spells that Sirius and James create. It is a little... illegal to experiment, but honestly he does not care. There are loopholes in those laws, and he knows them— he has read his father's law books. As long as nobody is adversely affected by his experimentation, and he sticks to a few ground rules, he should be fine. Besides, all his inventions came in handy when he was messing around with his motorbike.

Pranking. Do we even need to expand on this? Sirius is a genius, and he gets bored easily. Classwork is too easy for him, so he sets his sights on something interesting; the practical aspects of magic. Pranking, for him and James, is not just about taking the piss out of someone; it is about pushing the limits of magic, about accomplishing feats in magic people tell them are extremely difficult. It is about figuring out what magic can do if the limits of imagination are pushed. For the two of them, pranking is a giant experiment on the practicality, uses and effects of magic. They research, they read theses, textbooks, dissertations, encyclopaedias, they take notes and attend the higher year classes, and then they apply their knowledge to creative magical pranking.

.

Do not tag w*lfst*r, do not argue with me in the notes, and if you don't agree with my HCs you can scroll past, please and thank you.

[nanaminokanojo]

ACCIDENTALLY IN LOVE | part 48

-meet cute? a cheesy musical number? forget it! love makes itself known to you through a minor car accident, a broken arm, and a treacherously charming temporary chauffeur

CHARACTERS: sukuna x you/reader | jjk characters

GENRE: full-length smau + prose | bad boy x good girl | college au | a lot of firsts | aged-up characters | strangers to lovers | smut | fluff | angst | ooc depictions - soft sukuna ftw

TW/CW: strong/mature language | adult content so mdni on some parts | mentions of alcohol and/or smoking | mentions of injury, promiscuity and bullying | pet names because they're cute with 2D men | toxic behavior | will add more if something arises

MASTERLIST | CHAPTER INDEX

<<prev part 48 next>>

A/N: Contains prose with panels in between. Mind the order.

"Don't you have anything to review for?" you asked Sukuna who was walking beside you on your way to the library. You were surprised to see him after your class, leaning against the wall and pushing himself off it the moment he saw you. He was sporting that usual smirk as he threw his jacket over his shoulder.

“I do my reading at my own time.” He walked beside you. “Mind if I tag along with you?”

“I’m going to the library. Are you sure?”

“Yeah, I’ll go anywhere with you.”

“Your call.”

Your exams were coming and you had every plan to get in as much studying as you could on your breaks when you weren't hanging out with him and his friends. It was unexpected how your schedules seemed to have shifted from just minding your studies and your engagements with charities to adding socializing and actually investing time to be with them. You didn't regret a single thing about it, thankful that you've met them and they wanted you around just for the very purpose of having fun. It was good to have friends for once.

He glanced at you. "Getting sick of me now?"

"That's not what I meant." Your steps faltered, panicking for a second, but you calmed down when you saw how he was suppressing a snicker. You pouted at him. "I should be asking you that. You're the one being inconvenienced."

"No and no. Not in a million years." He slung an arm over your shoulder. "I wouldn't even be here if I didn't want to be."

Just as quickly as he had put his arm around you, he let go when this crowd of girls suddenly flocked around him like crows to a piece of meat. You immediately stood aside, immediately reading into whom they were after, smirking at his direction when you saw the helpless look on his face. 

"Sukuna, you haven't been showing up at parties," one of the girls said, latching onto his arm while the others agreed, asking him one question after the other.

It got you thinking how many of them he had kissed like he kissed you, how many of them received his undivided attention which, although offered at a limited time, still counted in the same manner as yours did in that it was genuine human interaction. You may not be sleeping with him like all those other girls were but you were no different from them where your bond with Sukuna was concerned. 

Almost the whole time since you got injured, his attention remained on you. You’d like to think he was paying special attention to you, but then he wasn't yours, and he may leave when you've recovered. So, why were you suddenly feeling strangely upset over the fact that these other females were surrounding him, treating him like they knew him better than you did? 

"I'll be at the library," you told him, as you walked ahead. You didn't like what you were seeing, and although you couldn't do anything about how you felt, you had the choice and will not to act on it. 

You've already found a seat at the farthest corner of the library you could find, your notes spread on the table in the organized manner you always do when he finally showed up. His arrival wasn't something you expected at all, but he was there anyway, pouting at you as he pulled out the chair beside you, trying hard not to make a noise. But his presence has always been loud, something that made itself known with the least effort, enough to fill your apartment with life whenever he was around. 

"Why did you leave me out there, bunny?" he whispered. His lower lip jutted out, his chin on the heel of his palm. 

Pretending to be busy with sorting your stuff out, you didn’t even look at him. “Sukuna, you’re whining.” You glanced at him when he didn’t say anything before turning your book to the next page. "You looked busy there. I didn't want to be a party pooper." 

"That was hardly a party," he complained. 

"It looked like it."

He just looked at you as if he sensed something off, but you pretended not to notice and continued reading. But then he asked, "Do you disapprove of my…uh…habits?" 

You shook your head, glad that your opinion mattered enough for him to ask. "I'm not in any position to say anything…” 

Your words hung in the air, promoting him to say, “But?”

“I can't say I'm for it either." 

Sukun arched a brow at you, fighting a smile yet cautiously asking, "Why not?" 

"Well, they're bound to haunt you someday, especially when they get in the way of things you want to achieve in the future."

“How?”

You shrugged, setting you book down. “What if you genuinely like somebody but they don’t agree with what you do? Or it gets in the way of you making connections you need for certain purposes.” 

Sukuna grinned cheekily at you. "So, you worry about my future?" 

Detecting his teasing tone, you brought your book down, meeting his gaze squarely. "Yes."

It was his turn to be speechless at your honest response, so you felt the need to explain yourself.

"I don't need reason just to wish you well even if you were a stranger. It's the same as not having any reason to wish you ill."

"How are you a real person? The world doesn't deserve you." 

You just chuckled at his sentiment. "I'm hardly perfect, Sukuna, but I consider you my friend after all, the first one I made on my own," you lifted your injured arm, "although it needed a little push."

He pulled away slowly, confusion drawing itself across his handsome features. “Just a friend?” he asked, sounding disappointed, but you immediately saw through his ploy to mess with you. 

“You’re really good at this,” you told him, shaking your head as you returned your attention to the book.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

You didn’t satisfy that with a response, grinning to yourself instead.

TAG LIST: @catobsessedlady @kyo-kyo1 @junehasnotbeenfound @lavender-hvze @guacam011y @eyered @hellomeow12 @its-princessmara @light-yagami-l @domainofmarie @mythoscalliope @noble-17 @pheonix-eclipses @weebbuscuit @sukunasbudussy @lu-c1na @vinnieswife @the-haitani-baton @iaminyourfloors @needtoloveoutloud @r-ryuko09 @somestardeww @swirlingcurses @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @bronze-metal @iluv-ace @kidd3ath @multifandomloner @ichorstainedskin @ti-mame @hellyyy06

© ORIGINAL WORK BY nanaminokanojo. CHARACTERS ARE INSPIRED BY GEGE AKUTAMI’S “JUJUTSU KAISEN”. [20240608]

PHOTOS/IMAGES/GIF/FANART/ANY MEDIA CREDITS GO TO THE RESPECTIVE OWNERS.

[plasticfangtastic]

American Royalty. Ch. 10

A Homelander X F! Reader/Dadlander fanfic.

A/N: sorry for the delay, I wrote another fic and that ate my time, hope y'all like the chapter, there's only 3 chapters left and the epilogue and now that kinktober its done I should be able to post the remaining chapters on time, if ya like to be on the taglist plz leave a comment with a request. prev. chapter here:

Tags: mild gore, angst, slow burn, fluff, oc characthers, child neglect, dadlander, romance, some spicy and murder.

Chapter Ten

Reconsidering

A lavish prison.

More rooms than ideas to fill them with– mere latrines for kisch. 

Floors that screamed ugly opulence, the kind that made you yearn for the simplicity of owning nothing, of forced minimalism... or tasteful decor.

When you cracked your neck to witness the enormity of the seven story mansion (not counting the cellar basement and the terrace) the price tag had frightened you to the core more than the height, making you feel more than inadequate in visitation, as you had come in jeans and an ironic t-shirt to accompany him (not that you had a choice)--  as Homelander pulled you around from floor to floor, forcing you to walk alongside him from beige rooms to white rooms, past rich dark wood doors. So heavy they hurt your wrist, you worried for your future.

These were the things you could only witness in pictures.

“I hate the carpet.” He said coyly, trying to stand close to you without frightening you.

Looking down at the rug you’ve taken your shoes off for-- it was luxurious, it was nice for the somewhat dark library, the smell of curated cedar and walnut genuinely intoxicating. From a second glance it matched his taste in your mind, but you guess he was a lot more finicky than he already was– perhaps it wasn’t soft enough for him, you thought.

“I'd rather we just have the floors bare– it’ll be easier to clean.”

“Concerned about the maids already?”

“Maids?”

“Honey, you don’t think I expect you to clean this thing by yourself?” He gave you a playful pat in the back– even with superspeed you’ll wear yourself out…”

The real estate agent who kept rubbernecking at your direction, raised his eyebrow as he saw how stiff you were next to your fiance.

Pressing yourself against the aged stone of the terrace fence, the city seemed so far away as you looked down from so high up, wondering if you could fall quick enough, if he would catch you right on time or make it easy for himself and play the tragic broken hearted hero. The cold breeze kissed your temples as you processed the jarring passage of time.

Kaleem, his wife Alessia and your co-worker Chrissie dropped what they were doing when you broke the news that you’ve gotten engaged, they’ve already gotten it from the breaking news report and online but actually hearing it out of your mouth cemented it, it wasn’t a lookalike sharing your name marrying Homelander! But you! Their hardworking and worn out cook. 

Who never once mentioned him before, who never described your baby daddy, who gave no hints… yet to them who thought were your friends–if not confidants, felt betrayed.

They were friends of yours but the fear of Homelander’s and Vought had been so great you never wanted to disclose who’s Helena’s father was to anybody, they had formed very strong opinions over the time they’ve known you but at the sight of half a dozen black suits entering their pizza shop– you probably would have never been able to tell them on your terms, anyways.

 You had no choice now but to divulge.

After having been made to lose a day’s work and being informed they would have to agree to some sketchy stuff regarding selling your situation to the public, you owed them an explanation– at least the financial compensation for their cooperation was generous.

Right now you were a stranger.

You told a version of your story, adding to what they already knew, like everybody else their image of Homelander was firmly cemented after 20 years of exposure to the bastard, it was hard to view ‘The Nation’s Favorite Dad’ was the one who threw you on the streets, nobody spoke much while you melted into the booth, your sight so far away, as the light’s buzz drilled into your brain.

“Is the dick at least good?” Chrissie slurped loudly on her coke– I mean go get your bag bitch, just don’t let him make you sign a prenup and when you get divorce take half his shit.”

“Slightly above mid… his mouth tho…” You did smile there.

“Is it little?” 

“I wish… shit hurts. Can’t sit straight afterwards... he's just so quick! Thank god his mouth isn't just good at speeches” You chuckle dryly.

Chrissie began spacing her fingers until you rolled your eyes in embarrassment, poor Kaleem sat in his corner pretending to be blind.

You both shared an ugly snorting laugh, cackling from the absurdity of the situation.

“You wouldn’t be the first woman to marry for benefits– trust me I seen a lot of ‘90 day fiance’ and my aunt Lucia’s been married to my uncle for 32 years– she met him a month before the wedding and only for the green card.”

“32 years?” That was dreadful.

Alessia was quite relaxed about the whole ordeal, if anything it was the most stimulating thing that had happened in recent years and seeing a six-year- old tutor her teenage son was exhilarating.

“She said he has a big dick and uncle works the night shift… works great for her– pretty sure 2 of their 7 kids are his” 

“Is this the aunt Lucia that came and did our light fixtures? I feel sorry for your uncle.” Chrissie said.

“Yes– she's happy, and don’t be… Uncle Frank may have a whole other family in Mexico, but that’s a whole other business.” She said loudly– look you had it rought, and fuck him. I thought killing the dude at that rally was a bit much, but dumping you in the streets– way worse than murder! Look, we got three kids and if this dumbass died on me– I don’t know how I would cope and if some hot rich asshole asked me to marry him… I might ‘cuz college ain't cheap.” You could laugh, watching Kaleem agreeing he would do the same if she died– Homelander is cute and has money. You said it yourself– you don’t have to love him. He’ll meet somebody else and end it, but Helena it’s your main priority here not him, and I mean after everything you’ve been thru you deserve to cruise thru life.``

“I don’t think John is going to let me fuck around…” You groaned, resting your head on your forearm as you sunk deeper– I don’t have to be happy, right?”

“It’s overrated.” Chrissie said– Helena would probably finish college by 12, and that if she takes her time.”

“Thank you guys for encouraging me in my new ‘Sugar Baby’ journey– I always knew I had it in me to be an amazing hoe.”

It wasn’t what you wanted to hear… to them who just like you had to break their backs to keep the roof over their heads, it was an enviable golden opportunity and in this economy one couldn’t really afford to miss out on such opportunities… 

“Just pretend you like him if he’s ever around, I guess.” you mention.

“It’s gonna be hard ‘cuz I like Noir more.” Chrissie says leaning across the table to pat your shoulders.

So here you were admiring the Upper East Side, in the nicest street, in a coveted building that he had every desire in the world to make you ‘Lady of the House’, it was beyond extravagant it even had an elevator… so there was some appeal.

Ashley followed him like a lap dog as he listed a billion much needed remodeling decisions to bring back the home into the office spaces by force, in case he decided to purchase the edifice.

“So you like it? This is the fifth house we’ve seen… you said you wanted a yard and space.”

“Needs more plants… is a great location…” you said softly, still looking down, pretending to not notice Ashley was writing that down too.

“But do you love it?” he pressed rubbing your shoulders– we can still get the penthouse… even if it's only four bedrooms but great open concept! Or the condo right in front of Central park– but that one is only 3 bedrooms which might tamper with our plans… although the one in 63 street, classy and it has a cinema.” 

He kissed your forehead, after speaking quickly.

“Do you love it?” You asked, fixing his hair once he got too close to you– this will be your home too.”

“Is pre-war” He whines playfully– is so pretty… the brownstone… the history…” He gives you the most pathetic attempt of ‘puppy eyes’ you’ve ever seen, a smile creeps onto your face without permission which he takes graciously– I can see us here.”

“You’re not hanging a giant american flag anywhere in this house!”

“A small one?” He pouts.

“In your office… and it better be small, John.” You rested your head on his chest– The kitchen… is awful.”

He was touchy, your skin numb to his touch at this point, he wanted to kiss you and hold you until you cherished him, but he wouldn’t force it. 

You just had to keep smiling and thwart most of his approaches, but you know if you gave him just enough affection he would be unable to notice the wicked game you were playing– forcing him to move at your dictated pace, to keep him on his toes yearning that you would turn and pamper him, never knowing if his affections were welcomed or not, but knowing you gave yours to him and he welcomed it.

You could see Ryan and Helena growing up happy, and safe. 

You and those two children sitting by the fireplace, enjoying hot chocolate and opening Christmas presents.

You would in fact not choose this house just to spite the man, who had fallen in love with his grand vision– not that the chosen house was worse, just one floor shorter, just as massive as the other and still in a great location… so Homelander didn’t complain too much… just a little.

The boxes increased but there was still so much to fill up, even with his stuff it wasn’t enough to fill the gaps… he would not spare you from the American flags, tragically as it sounds. 

At least it was framed and matched the decor of the gallery and dining room. As you unpacked and watched the movers bring the beds while the kids argued about who kept which floor– Helena demanded the fourth floor already making executive decision to turn the empty rooms into labs and  offices for her future endeavors, while Ryan wanted to be normal child and stay in the same floor as his sibling, ultimately pushed to the fifth floor after multiple rounds of rock-paper-scissors, and a paternal mediator who said they had to settled it with another round of games which sadly Ryan lost.

After a laborious day, you two just sheepishly laughed as you stared at your bedroom, both leaning against each other as you laughed, staring at the wooden cross dividing the two beds and matching nightstands– all so very circa 50’s catholic chic. 

You two just laughed about how absurd this was in execution, a part of you wished to just put the beds together instead of making your great-grandmother proud.

“Y’know we could’ve fit two kings in here…” He said while staring at the space.

“I thought you wanted me close-by.”

“Double’s were the perfect choice.” He replied quickly.

It took weeks before you reached a boiling point with your live-in situation, to see him walk around your home in that stupid suit, his mind longing for the familiarity of his abandoned penthouse was frustrating, he himself didn't expect to miss it either– He felt like a guest that refused to leave instead of your fake fiancee, this wasn’t him staying overnight at your previous domicile levels of awkward, that had been a challenge on its own, even if now you skipped the pillow walls and sleeping on the floor… God knows how many times he picked your unconscious self up from the ground and laid you to bed, while he sat next to you reading a book in the dark– this was an alien living in your house calling himself the owner. 

Before you knew it your heart stung as you dragged the two kids to the nearest Target to bulk buy the man some loungewear, both from exasperation and as request from his son who mentioned he didn’t really own much clothes, and what little he did own he didn't feel like washing every 2 days just to chill around the house... and as his future wife you gave yourself automatic permission to buy him clothes… just anything that would get him out of that suit.

Ryan had never been to many stores before, much less a Target, it hurt a tad to see him fascinated by the colorful aisles and the abundance of people…knowing he had grown in a compound, the mother in you just wanted to squeeze him and apologies for it all, but you instead just squeezed the handle bars and let him pick snacks that caught his fancy.

It was hilarious that you would find yourself doing this again– back then buying for him had been difficult, he wore very little but he liked your input, he simply wore what you told him, but after so long you had no idea what he liked anymore– this wasn’t food… this wasn’t easy… so the plainest sets were your best bet.

There was something fresh about this, as you perused the aisles with the kids in tow, thinking of buying him some jeans and clean button ups, Ryan picking up colorful socks while Helena opted to pick him a shirt just to fit in.

You had fun, you looked forward to sprousing his wardrobe, watching this scene play out made you feel as if you were normal, until somebody took your photo at the checkout in your least flattering angle.

It took another week before he opened up to being undressed and exposed in cheap pajama pants and white t-shirts, it would take three weeks for him to do so without being told to– plus enough complaints about people trying to photograph them after seeing the Homelander lounge in the terrace, served as added motivation.

You told yourself it wasn’t too bad to cohabitate, as you saw him slowly get more and more comfortable in his new environment, as you watched him become softer with your kids, as you found yourself having pleasant breakfasts, found yourself being welcomed home and conversed over coffee about your day or his day– not even bringing up his concerns about you still choosing to work in Lucci when you could do so much better too often, giving up on teasing you with buying you a restaurant, or upcoming publicity stunts when you weren’t in the mood to listen to the drivel.

Staring down from the roof garden looking at the brownstone buildings around and the pale light, pleased by the subtle fragrance of flowers behind you, he seemed so normal as you watched him from across the coffee table.

He kept sipping on his latte looking miffed before turning around and asked about why Elmo had been staying over for the last 3 days, to which you reminded him he sent his dads to sort some business in Singapore.

“Does he have no other family?” He thought of Singapore– it was quite urgent… they decided to fuck us up.”

“You and them booked them for acting classes plus they have their first suit fittings tomorrow… easier for them to leave Elmo here and have us take care of that– they’re a team-up. They should be close.”

“I know! But why does he have to sleep here? He’s a boy.” He seemed concerned.

“‘Cuz we got the space…?”

“It doesn’t seem appropriate.”

“Oh you freak.”

 He was still stiff around the edges but you could bear with it, as you saw him and Helena bond you knew your daughter was handling him well– your target was Ryan now. 

You asked him to help you around the kitchen more, taking your time to teach him without pressure, scolding his father when he acted like it was undignified of him to help around the kitchen and forced him to eat whatever he'd made, making him feel proud when he took charge of dinner even if it was slightly too salty at times and his impenetrable skin resulted in chipped knives… 

 You helped him make those cute films and took him out to the cinema, buying him books on the subject, encouraging him to join art clubs, to try as many extracurriculars he was interested in and to ignore his father as he pushed Ryan to join sport related clubs, when all he wanted was to make dioramas with his new found friends, instead. 

Homelander didn’t have any issues with Helena for her selections were sparse, just the chess club, and some science club she was quickly losing interest in… if anything he was being pushy about piano– and god knows how he managed to bring that piano to the fifth floor without breaking anything.

Is not as if she was already taking too much in-between physics, science and math classes… and working casually at Vought, but he didn’t seem to care. Helena assured you she could handle it, telling you to focus on your tasks without worry and you listened.

Ryan liked your support, it helped you get closer as you allowed his friends to enter the house for his little projects, he liked when you twisted his father’s ear to let him be just in case he began to disapprove, he began to trust you.

Helena wasted her afternoons in the office between daycare, superhero training and shadowing her father or Ashley, reading his meeting notes, writing them for him, or as he called it assisting him, learning about the company and the labs from her privileged position– the whispers of curious passerby wondered why Homerlander would keep his daughter so close, it had taken the building by surprise to learn that this little girl had been his child all along even if rumors had spread prior… but the once cute anomaly began to gain a insidious reputation in the underbelly of this company, something that made them more uneasy than just her strange demeanor from before.

“What’s that on your dress?” You noticed a brown stain on the hem of her dress.

“Iodine.” She said while taking her clothes off, Homelander said nothing as he picked after her.

Homelander gave you a stiff smile as he scrunched the clothes into a ball before your kid ran up towards the bathroom, mentioning she’s a tad clumsy with the equipment as he walked past you.

You didn’t need to know that the duet had some quality father-daughter time to the misfortune of some lab rat.

He stared at the chunky bloodstain sliding down the wall.

“I can explain.” She panted, staring at her work as her eyes spun around the room.

“It’s pretty obvious what happened, no?” He said stepping on top of the unidentified– "I'll have somebody come clean it up, darling.”

“You’re not mad?” She asked, genuinely nervous, fidgeting with her fingers as her head throbbed.

“Why did you kill him?” He stared at the smashed patty with curiosity.

“He resisted termination… forcing me to defend myself… he took my assistant.”

Homelander looked at the other corpse and its mangled remains, spilling around her boots.

“Why?” He spoke with a boor.

“Self-defense.”

“You took your time doing it… you could have cut his oxygen supply and killed him in a few minutes, instead you” He kicked a shattered bone– made it agonizing.”

“Tch… if he attacked me I would’ve lost control of the bubble…” She gasped lightly trying to kill the headache inside her– the math… the math makes sense. My formulas make sense. But it's them… these samples aren’t fit, they aren’t meant to be like us. They are worthless!”

She leans towards the wall, smacking her forehead against the wall full force, Homelander jumps on his heel but doesn’t reach her as she mutters incoherent curses under her breath, his hand stop just inches from her.

 “This one wasn’t too bad… I thought I cracked it but then I noticed…” Helena was pensive looking at images he wasn’t privy to, as she spoke with a light airy voice as her lungs emptied for her to speak once more— I cull it.”

She squatted picking up a loose tooth from the ground, examining the perfectly structured canine, for the first time Homelander felt uneasy about her.

“Is not often that I feel…”

Homelander raised a curious eyebrow, taking a step closer towards her, Helena tilted her neck to look at him, her sight so detached it didn’t seem possible for a child to make such an expression.

“Excited. The simulations always succeed but the human variant poses an interesting angle I hadn’t previously considered… truly successful adult specimens… V24 almost recreated the perfected serum but with nasty side-effects… programming the serum is obtainable but adult humans continue to reject it or somehow create variants as if the host alters the code live”  She flicks the tooth– Is like Frederick left me a puzzle.”

“So are these just pieces” He waved his fingers nonchalantly at the messy remains.

She scoffed standing up and patting her knees clean.

“You know why I play piano?”

He shook his head.

“Because in order to be good at it… you have to foster talent… but no amount of practice can’t beat those blessed with a gift… supposedly. So I have to solve his puzzle because I cannot believe that that coward was blessed more than me.”

“You think Vought has beef with you? So what will you do with all your failures? Murder them?”

“Is it murder to cull a deformed goldfish? No… that’s just mercy.” She stands up fixing her hair– It’s not beef. Is a challenge he left us with.”

His smile is so wide his skin creaks as it stretches. 

He picked her up to plant a kiss on her chubby cheek.

“You’re such a messy child.” He kissed her again– you got your pretty dress dirty.”

“Sorry.” She moped– sorry about all of it… you must think I'm a hack.”

“Is okay princess… daddy will just buy you a new one… and a new dress.”

You didn’t question the stains on her dress, god knew what sort of chemicals and stuff she had to play with, and how much of it wasn’t built for the size of her hands.

The more you saw him return to that man you once loved, you felt down the spiral of considering giving him a second chance– Helena was happy, she was smiling, she was playful, your quiet daughter had blossomed under your mutual care, seeing him domesticated, seeing him interact with genuine joy with her had began to melt your heart. It didn’t help that he look so delectable in compression shirts, as he came back with the kids without a sweat on his brow, Ryan just as dry with nothing more than messy hair and then your daughter dropping to the ground half-dead from the walk… what you had stared at mostly had been his ass in those black tights.

“Honey it was only 20 miles.” He sounded a bit frustrated– gotta get her fit otherwise she will get outperformed.” He turned to you sounding a tad aggressive– she’s my daughter she should be able to handle it just like me and Ryan.”

“Mommy!” she cried.

“Most humans can’t even do twenty!”

You picked her up, not caring she was covered in sticky sweat but as you draped your child over your shoulder kissing her head as she whined, you caught an improper glimpse at him, no doubt he caught a couple looks from passersby on his way here– even by this city standards he was wearing too little.

“Go change…” You said with a light blush on your neck– don’t be a dick to her, she wasn’t born a copy of you.”

He pestered Helena for the rest of the evening, giving up once she barricaded herself in her bedroom.

“Spending all her time inside books is not gonna do her any good… she needs exercise.”

“I think you got the kids mixed up, dear.”

He moped in the living room pursing his lips, one sentence away from crossing his arms and whining like a child.

“Look I think it’s great that you want to train her but… she’s not like you. I would love for her to have inherited some of your physical skills– it's just not gonna happen.”

“I know. I don’t know why she’s so different from me… yet she has to get better…” His sight lingered on the roof– You think she’ll move her dresser out the way.”

“She’ll move it when she wants to– and don’t think about getting in there thru her window!” He almost complains but chooses to stay quiet scooting closer to you on the couch– What?”

“You seem mad…”

“You harassed our kid all day and made her upset… but I was mad before it...I made the mistake of googling myself after somebody at work made mention–  have you seen the shit that people are saying ‘bout me online ‘cuz of you.”

Homelander shook his head lightly.

“I only google myself.”

“People are saying nasty shit. Hurtful shit… saw my mom getting interviewed… that was nice… she certainly made me feel like shit.”

“Want me to kill her?” Homelander spoke in such a bored tone, his head finding his way on your lap with the smoothness of a cat, unconsciously your hand took to his hair– Or something else?”

You stared at him and considered it, your mom sort of had it coming if she was going to paint herself a saint for her 15 minutes of fame.

“Don’t kill my mom, John. I just don’t want people saying I’m a bad mother because my kid went to a “shit public school” in the projects.” you said annoyed.

“I’ll see if Vought can write you a fluff piece.”

You believed him, choosing to put your anxieties away as he nuzzled into your stomach and let you watch TV without care as long as your hands kept pampering him making little commentary as you watched true crime videos.

Rolling in your bed you turned to see his back on the bed beside you, you signed readying to play dirty, your body awoken to something sickening.

“I know you ain’t asleep, John.”

His ears perked, he turned to see your silhouette in the dark.

“I can’t sleep.” You whispered– mmm…so” you signed lightly– can you get your dick up?”

His ears perked up, lifting himself by his elbows as he adjusted to face your darkened silhouette, your cheeks reddened, mildly embarrassed, your mind wandered back to the sight of his clothes, to the tussling of his hair and the glint in his eyes as of late… and of that last sudden night of intimacy.

“Oh. O-okay… might need some stimulation is not like I got a crank down there.” he faked being annoyed by your request.

“I stopped taking the pill…” His piercing eyes illuminated the room for a brief second just to catch a sly smile ‘bout to fade away off your face– so you wanna put the mommy in MILF or not?”

He tripped out of the bed to jump into yours, clawing his way back towards you, as the little voice in his head blared sirens.

Latching on your neck, ripping your clothes open as you tried not to chuckle at his messy desperation to fuck you, you closed your eyes and thought of nothing but the hundred different pleasurable sensations prickling you– it had been so long… your body sensitive, writhing over his hungry touch, wherever his hands and his lips got to taste you felt it twice as strong.

Whatever he was imagining in his head was happening none of it was relevant– this was simply a mutually beneficial exchange. Nothing but lust, it had to be lust because you didn’t see Homelander underneath you, as you rode him, as he let you fucked him just as hard as he wanted to fuck you– you saw the John that he had killed so many years ago... but somehow you didn't hate the sight.

He wanted to devour you, he was needy and pent-up and you took it all graciously, for one night you two used each other equally.

Finding himself delighted and more aroused at the squeals and mewls coming from your delicious lips just as much as you enjoyed the moans and guttural grunts that came from him as he cried against your chest, crying for your kisses and directions, liking the way he craved your scent once again.

You were better than his molasses drenched memories.

Homelander teeth gilded over your neck, the thought of him ripping and gnawing on your flesh lingered as he brought you to an orgasm. 

To be so close to death as you touched heaven… you heaved, melting into the mattress letting him lumber atop of you, too delighted with the end result to complain… looking down to find him kissing your chest, whispering sweet grunts as your hand pampered his hair, you tried not to smile at that satiated goofy expression on his face, at the flickering light illuminating your skin as he purred around your touch.

He was so easy to win over… it scared you.

My Taglist-- @demodemo909 @immyowndefender @fromforeigntofamiliarity @ghqstfqce

[ruiniel]

Prickly thorns, tender roses

Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)

Rating: Mature🔞

Relationship: Alucard/Original Female Character

Characters: Alucard, Original Character(s)

Summary:

Set after the events of Castlevania (Netflix) Season III. After the betrayal of his young apprentices, Alucard feels barely alive in his lonesome castle. Days wear on, chipping away at his mind and sanity. And what is the son of Dracula to do with this unwanted visitor, suddenly come at his doorstep? Often the prickly thorn produces tender roses - Ovid

Chapter tags & warnings: Inspired by Castlevania, Canon Divergence, POV Original Character, Post-Castlevania Season 3, Non-Canon Relationship

PART I

AN: first Alucard longfic from 2020. Heavily follows ‘Beauty and the Beast’ trope.

< PREV NEXT >

XVII. Hidden knowledge

“Well, is it the seventh shelf or the eighth?”

Ravenna peered into the immense register, her finger trailing down a page with embellished swirling writings, searching under the letter ‘A’. “It should be the seventh,” she called to Adrian, who was currently facing one among thousands of towering shelves making part of the Belmont body of knowledge.

The young woman lost herself in her reading once again, but without intending to, her eyes strayed from the yellowed veal pages, searching for Adrian. He was approaching, carrying several tomes.

Since her wrists were in no proper working condition for her to be carrying things or climbing precarious stairs, he’d agreed to aid with her pursuit and retrieve the heavier materials needed for her studies.

Dust rose from the stack of books as Adrian placed them on her reading table. “Anything at all yet?”

Ravenna sighed and shrugged, resigned. “I’ve not found any pertinent piece of knowledge to aid me, no. But there must be something here. There must.” She looked towards the endless shelves burdened with works she may never get to read. “This is going to be awhile…” Ravenna then turned an apologetic gaze on Adrian, but his face was as impassive as usual.

“Take the time you need,” he said, one long finger reaching to trace the cover of one tome stacked on top of the pile. His gaze slowly drifted back to hers. “You once said you may have use of transmutation for your attempted serum.”

Ravenna slumped her shoulders forward in another sigh, her hands in her hair, ruffling the strands in circular motions. Her eyes were closed and a tired frown creased her brow. “Yes, a by-product from the transmutation of the prima Materia.”

“The first matter, used among other things to create the philosopher’s stone,” Adrian said thoughtfully.

“Yes,” Ravenna met his eyes, somewhat intrigued her host was privy to the details of this. “Which leads to another issue. There is no surviving knowledge on the transmutation of prima Materia.”

“None at all?” Adrian raised an eyebrow.

Ravenna crossed her arms. “Well, not unless you have a decrypted copy of the Emerald Tablet.” She knew it was impossible. The ancient work had never been accurately deciphered by any known scholar to date, its secrets disputed but never fully revealed, or demonstrated.

Seeing her disappointment rankled him peculiarly. “I think it is time I left you,” Adrian said, then looked at her wrists. “I do not believe you can lift the platform latch—“

Ravenna looked at the manuscripts splayed before her. “No… I’ll come up with you.” She regarded the darkened vault, sparsely lit by the artificial lights, which Adrian had told her were fueled by lightning. He’d explained the method used was one inspired by a work that had once belonged to the vast library of Alexandria, and somehow survived its burning and subsequent destruction; how his father had come upon this knowledge during his many centuries of travels.

As she joined him, Alucard said nothing, but followed her with his gaze, placing the latch back when they had both stepped onto the wooden platform.

The need Ravenna felt in his presence was not as compulsive as before when she had to actively avoid him for fear of doing something ghastly. But it was ever there in the back of her mind and chest. Despite this, she could still barely keep away from him for too long, and Adrian did appear less reclusive and hesitant where she was concerned. That was progress, she supposed. As were most midnights Ravenna would fall asleep curled onto the divan in the study, rather than her chamber. It was warmer there, not as removed from the strategic kitchen area, and it was certainly comfortable. There was also the fact that��he spent his time there most evenings, and ever since the encounter with the hunters, Ravenna found it was better when he was near. She could not exactly tell the reason or fully grasp it in mind or spirit, but she heard and felt him differently when they were close. She often thought she heard barely discernible, repeatable sounds, not her own, reaching as far as her lower abdomen.

“Hungry?”

She refocused her vision to find Adrian staring at her, half a smile on his lips.

Ravenna shrugged. “Is that an offer or merely taunting? I have not had time to find any eggs or—”

He waved her thought away. “I have something in the making. But first...”

Their eyes met.

As before, and ever since the recent happening in the woods, Ravenna felt something raging in her ears, her throat, down her chest and belly whenever she stared into those unique beams of gold.

“Join me,” Adrian urged, stepping off the platform when they reached the outside world.

Her curiosity piqued, Ravenna followed him as she shielded her weary eyes from the blazing sun, noticing in passing that it was midday.

Soon enough, they were walking the castle corridors together and Ravenna saw they were heading to the library.

“This way.” He led her to the eastern side of the curved dome structure, pausing before a line of racks. He then took a wooden stair and climbed it to the top, his gaze searching.

Following his catlike movements, her traitorous mind began its dribbling anew. Her eyes lingered on his well-knit frame, his deceptively frail appearance. The elegant way he moved and touched things. The way he’d touched her when circumstances had demanded it.

She still vividly recalled the copper color of his eyes then, the rigid set of his shoulders. Ravenna debated whether to ask if the blood sharing had any effects in the aftermath; if it had done something to her, to them both. But then she blushed and buried the notion, thinking she would need to explain the effects and sensations plaguing her.

“This one here,” Adrian’s voice brought her back to reality.

He took a green tome in hand and descended to face her, presenting the item.

Her eyes widened when reading the authorship. “Hermes Trismegistus... this is a copy of the Corpus Hermeticum!” Her gaze locked with his, her heart pounding with newfound strength.

“An alternate version Trismegistus himself wrote, annotated, among others, with the deciphering of your Emerald Tablet.”

Her head was spinning, and Ravenna felt faint. “You... you had this all along?”

He was smiling, now of all times. “Apparently I did. And now you have it.”

“This is a treasure in itself!” Her voice was full of wonder. Then Ravenna frowned, eyes cutting to him. “Again, you let me...” Then realization struck. “You did not trust me enough.”

Alucard crossed his arms in a detached shrug. “I allowed you your research.”

Ravenna was too happy and grateful to be upset. All her attention reverted to the manuscript, fingers reverently tracing the faded illuminations. “There is yet more to do, but this saves me months, possibly years!” She wanted to embrace him so much but somehow succeeded in reining herself in, thinking he may not appreciate it. “Thank you, Adrian,” Ravenna said with honesty.

Adrian only watched her, and there was that bizarre silence again where each appeared to have something to say, but none would speak. Ravenna noticed how light streaking through the window played in his hair, over his features. He was alight with the sun indeed, this unusual creature she at first feared and even loathed. It was cruel and bitterly amusing at the same time to think she could barely keep away from him now. Did he see it? Did he know? She thought it wouldn’t matter either way.

“I will see you later, then? For the evening meal?”

The words took her by surprise. “Yes... yes, certainly,” Ravenna blurted after a moment of hesitation, still shaken by the discovery and now duly intrigued by this unexpected offer.

“Until then,” Adrian turned away, his long stride taking him toward the engine room.

Ravenna followed him with her gaze until he disappeared from view, and for moments unnumbered stood still in the endless library of the once greatest of vampire lords, holding the invaluable tome to her chest.

< PREV NEXT >

[bleuebelles]

⭐Anchor 02: a shared table

Not warm, not frozen. Different.

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The late afternoon light flittered across the pavement as Belle walked back from campus, the sun brushing her cheeks with a slow, warm hand. Her backpack was slung over one shoulder, uneven, and she was clutching a half-full drink—one of those campus drink stalls she bought as a reward. She tried out a new flavor. It tasted like strawberry and cream and regret, lips pursing at the unexpected tang.

She should’ve chosen chocolate.

Lumine caught up to her outside the library, calling her name with that sunbeam energy that Belle always admired from a distance. They fell into step without asking, and it felt easy. Familiar.

“So,” Lumine said, bumping her shoulder. “How’s the new place?”

Belle hesitated, taking another sip to stall. “It’s...quiet.”

“Quiet good, or quiet like a horror movie?”

Belle laughed, a soft huff. “Quiet like a waiting room.”

Lumine hummed, tilting her head thoughtfully. “You settle in okay?”

“I unpacked.” She shrugged. “Still doesn’t feel like mine. Just feels like... someone else’s place I’ve been allowed to sleep in.”

“Your roommate’s a guy, right?”

“Yeah. Not that I see him much.”

Lumine raised an eyebrow. “Not even for, like, kitchen turf wars?”

“No turf wars. It’s like—um, how do I say this? We pass each other like ghosts. Like we both agreed silently not to care about each other's existence.”

They cooked their own meals. Ate at their own time. It was two separate routines created to rarely cross each other’s path, and it was successful so far. She wasn’t sure if that made the space any less heavy though.

Not with anything negative. Rather, heavy with the clear weight of history.

There was a beat of silence before Lumine huffed an exhale. “Well, as long as he isn’t doing anything weird. He’s always been kinda confusing for me.”

Belle stilled. “Scaramouche?”

“Yeah, that guy. I only see him whenever I tag along with Childe to his friends. Apparently, they were super close in high school. He’s kind of a mystery guy. Doesn’t talk much but still shows up to stuff.”

Belle nodded slowly. That...tracks.

Lumine continued, “I saw him once with this girl, like, forever ago. Thought they were dating or something, but I don’t think they’re a thing anymore. Childe said he’s been kinda different since last year. Not bad different, just... quieter.”

Belle filed that away somewhere behind her heart. A useless, echoing curiosity.

“Anyway, haven’t seen or even talked with him enough to make any other impression.”

A beat of silence. Lumine then tugged her hand with a cheeky grin, steps quickening to a small jog. “C’mon, Aether promised to cook some churros if you visited!”

She got back to the apartment around six. It was empty. Still again. She wasn’t surprised.

The lights were off, so she flipped the switch as she kicked off her shoes. There was a faint scent of lavender and something burnt clinging to the air. Was that…incense? Her eyes flickered to the left of the room, eyeing his door. 

Did he like using them? A brief moment of scanning her memories, and none. She never got to visit his house before, maybe this was something new. A detail she never got to know. A reminder that she didn’t know much about him at all. Not that she needed to.

The silence wasn’t hostile. Just thick. Walled-in.

She padded into the kitchen. Her hands were automatic, pulling ingredients from the fridge without thought—rice, tofu, onion, leftover carrots. Stir-fried tofu it was. She hummed under her breath while chopping, the knife rhythmic against the board.

Sometimes she wondered what he did in his room. If he still wrote and read like he used to back then, when he’d scribble thoughts in the margins of textbooks. If he ever listened to music that wasn’t melancholic anymore.

By the time she was halfway done, there was a second pair of footsteps.

She turned and found him in the doorway, leaning against the frame like he was trying not to startle the air.

Scaramouche. Still in dark clothes, headset around his neck. Barefoot.

He raised an eyebrow, clearly surprised to find her there, cooking.

Belle blinked. “Oh—hey.”

He nodded, glancing at the stovetop. “Smells edible.”

She made a face, mock-offended. “It’s more than edible.”

A smirk painted his face, faint and crooked, before moving toward the cupboard to grab a glass.

Belle continued to stir the tofu on the pan, adding seasonings in. She didn’t look at him, mumbled softly, “I made too much. You can have some if you want.”

A pause. The sound of water running. Then, “Sure.”

Her fingers twitched on the spatula, like she’d been holding her breath without knowing.

They ate in relative silence. She set two bowls down. He sat across from her. There was no music, no television, just the clink of utensils and the distant hum of the city through the balcony door. And Belle desperately tried to mind her own business, keeping her eyes on her own food.

Halfway through, he glanced up. “You overcooked the rice.”

Belle nearly choked. “Excuse me?”

“It’s clumpy. You need less water next time.”

She gaped at him, mouth open. “I made you dinner.”

“And I’m eating it.” He shrugged. “I’m just saying, next time—”

She jabbed her fork at him, cheeks puffed. “There may not be a next time, you…you rice snob.”

The insult landed like a paper airplane. Light, a little crooked, a little off the mark, but determined.

He stared at her. Then, without meaning to, without effort, his lips twitched upward. The tiniest smile.

Belle saw it, and for a moment, it felt like middle school again. Like the sunlit cafeteria, and stupid jokes that made him smile like that.

Her heart stumbled a little.

He looked down at his bowl. “I didn’t say it was bad.”

“Your standards are just abnormally high?”

“For food, yes.”

She huffed, but it wasn't angry. “Noted.”

Of course he did. He always had. How could she have forgotten?

When they finished, she cleared the bowls. He moved to rinse them without asking. They didn’t talk. But the silence felt...different. Not warm, not yet, but maybe no longer frozen.

A neutral truce. A kitchen no longer haunted.

As she turned to dry the dishes, Belle glanced at him. His face was relaxed. His shoulders a little less guarded.

She wondered what he looked like when he wasn’t defending himself.

Maybe, someday, she’d find out.

As she dried the last bowl, her mind drifted not to the dinner, but to a memory. Scaramouche years ago, sat beside her on a grassy hill, not saying anything, their shoulders almost but not quite touching. The cicadas screamed around them like a hymn. She never said what she wanted to say. He never did either.

Maybe they were always like this, edges nearly brushing. Always almost.

But for now, she handed him a clean bowl and said, “Next time, you cook.”

He glanced at her. “Hope you like better rice.”

And maybe, just maybe, that was the start of calling a place home.

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a/n (❁´◡`❁)

[cosmogyros]

I was tagged by @myclutteredbookshelf for this "get to know you better" tag game.

Favorite colour: I am so consistent about this. I'm not consistent about anything else in my life except this: it's turquoise (or blue-green).

Currently reading: Like prev, I am also typically reading many books at once. The two I picked up most recently are Mutual Aid: A Factor of Evolution by Pyotr Kropotkin and Der Schwarm by Frank Schätzing.

Last song: "America" by Simon & Garfunkel

Last movie: I rewatched Get Out (Jordan Peele) the other night. So good, damn.

Last series: I don't really watch TV in a normal way. I did watch a random episode of GBBO the other night because I thought I remembered it being cozy and heartwarming, but it turned out it was very tense and stressful instead, so I won't be continuing that.

Sweet, savory, and spicy: All of the above, but probs spicy if I had to pick.

Craving: Financial stability. (I'm leaving prev's answer because, honestly, same.)

Tea/coffee: Both omg I could never choose. I'm a tea snob at home but I always get a coffee when I'm out at cafés.

Currently working on: I saw a fantastic lyric from a fellow FAWM songwriter today that doesn't have music, so I'm coming up with a tune and chords for it, in the hopes that she'll agree to a collab!

I'm tagging (no pressure, as always) the most recent folks from my notifs: @cleopatras-library @switchscene @medleymisty @ithaspockets @syrupmap @nomen-isst-omen @mynamemeanscloud @elysianania @hibiskooks

[doves-fandomstuff]

Thanks for the tag <3

hardcover or paperback? ->(Actually it doesn't matter that much but I like hardcover more but hardcovers here are expensive :') ) bookstore or library? ->(Again both is fine with me) bookmark or receipt? stand alone or series? ->(I also agree with prev's statement, if the stand alone I'm reading has a satisfying ending to me then it's fine, even tho I'll most likely wonder what happened afterwards) under 300 pages or over 300 pages? ->(I prefer more pages to read, this means the story is very long and detailed, I'm not saying less pages wouldn't mean that but you get my point, and also since if I get obsessed with that book I won't want it to finish early) children's or ya? ->(If the story is good, then I don't really mind actually and I completely agree with prev, sadly some ya's I see nowdays focus on love life in a way I really wouldn't prefer so yeah) friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? ->(prev YES, if you write a wonderful enemies to lovers then I'm all on that, it also means love is a strong feeling that can make you fall in love even with your own enemy, something about the way you see the worst in them yet still decide to love them is literally endgame) read in bed or read in couch? ->(Actually both) read at night or read in the morning? ->(Normally both, but nowdays I feel so tired at nights so I read in the morning with a fresh mind) keep pristine or markup? ->(Back then I always had a rule of keeping my books pristine and hated it whenever someone accidentally ruined them, but now I markup and highlight the parts I enjoy) cracked spine or dog ear? (NO)

Tagging: @penta-lil @immunie (hope not disturbing) and anyone who wants to reblog !

hardcover or paperback? bookstore or library? bookmark or receipt? stand alone or series? nonfiction or fiction? thriller or fantasy? under 300 pages or over 300 pages? children’s or ya? friends to lovers or enemies to lovers? read in bed or read on the couch? read at night or read in the morning? keep pristine or markup? cracked spine or dog ear?

[shu-glue]

Chapter 7: Operation Help You Help Me, Commence!

Summary: You and Suna finally begin studying! At least, you would have begun if you both weren't so pissy with each other. After getting kicked out of the library, you take Suna to your secret study spot.

A/N: i am so over this /j tumblr kept nerfing the chapter and i couldnt figure out what was wrong im so sorry to the taglist, yall kept getting tagged omg. hopefully it works now and yall enjoy the chapter hsfhgjshgjsh

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taglist!

@milkteeboba @fairywriter-oracle @s-adidass @admiringlove @mmmaaannnsssiii @pavo-ocxllus @jojowantstocry @alienvarmint @meri-soni-meri-tamanna

"Suna…"

Said middle blocker doesn't lift his face from his arms. "Mm?" 

Face muffled in your hands, you mope on the sidewalk outside Inarizaki with Suna beside you, also moping.

"I don't think the library would be lettin' us back in any time soon..."

"....Mm."

Earlier…

"Good morning, guys, where did we leave off last time?" The teacher steps off the podium and grabs a piece of chalk, beginning to write out the lesson on the board.

One girl lifts her hand tentatively. "We were learnin' about character archetypes."

"Thank you, Itto-san; now, please turn to page 95 of your textbook—"

If Suna wasn't so determined to prevent you from getting any more opportunities to get the upper hand on him, he would have gone to sleep one character archetype ago. Book propped up to cover his sleeping face, it was so, so tempting right now.

But alas, he knows that if he doesn't take down notes and you find out later, you'll never let him off the damn hook for the rest of the afternoon (god forbid). 

It's the day after you and Suna made your agreement and signed that goofy contract. That goofy ass contract. You'd think someone like you would have some cutesy handwriting, not chicken scratch and sentences that look like they're an airplane taking off.

He would have laughed out loud at the ever increasing irony yesterday if he hadn't felt so irritated with you.

("Hey. If ya didn't try ta blackmail me," you were smirking that goddamn smirk, unfortunately the very first 'smile' he's seen that reached your eyes, "I would have agreed ta tutor ya.")

Suna bites the nail of his thumb, glaring ahead. He'll admit, he was a bit too hasty in trying to mess with you. He'll have to be more careful around you in the future since you've proven to be able to turn the tide.

And because he's going to be around you more often now.

"That's suspicious."

Suna closes his eyes as if he feels a headache coming on and slowly opens them again as he turns to his right. Osamu is side-eyeing him, twirling his pen between his fingers. Dun eyes look him up and down, narrowed and eyebrows furrowed. What's all this scrutiny for?

"Are you quoting a meme or are you talking to me?"

"No, I'm talkin' ta the window." Osamu rolls his eyes. "Ya never take notes. Usually yer dead asleep by now and I have ta cover fer yer ass."

"Well, excuse you, maybe I'm actually going to take this class seriously." Suna rolls his eyes, ignoring the way Osamu snaps his head towards his friend, an eyebrow raised.

"Now that's even weirder. Who brainwashed ya?"

"Shut up."

Osamu's usually not so inquisitive and Suna would prefer it if the former would fucking stop right now. The thought of meeting with you later is already enough to make him want to lie about getting sick and take the rest of the day off. "Did ya get a tutor? That's the only explanation I could think of." Osamu tilts his head, as if he's more curious than he should be.

"Why are you so annoying about this?"

"I just didn't expect anyone to want to tutor you with your horrible personality." Suna glares at him at the comment. "Who's the unlucky bastard stuck with teachin' yer dense ass, anyway?"

Well, everyone is bound to know one way or another, and coming clean to begin with will stop any rumors from spreading. 

When Suna says your name, it takes Osamu a couple of seconds to fully register it. He turns away from Suna to look towards the board, then back at Suna again. He looks at his notebook before he snaps his head towards Suna once again, this time with wide eyes as the words sink in. "WHAT."

"Mr. Suna, Mr. Miya, would ya like ta discuss whatever yer discussing right now to the class?" The teacher asks them, every one of their classmates turned towards them once again.

"Ah… n-no sir." Suna mumbles, averting his gaze at the same time Osamu mutters an embarrassed "sorry".

"Just don't do it again or I'll have you both spend the rest of the class in the corridor."

The teacher returns to teaching and Osamu returns to… being Osamu; annoying the shit out of Suna. "Are ya messin' with me? Them?? The girl you've been having bad blood with for the past few days???"

"Yeah."

"Did ya blackmail them ta do it?"

Suna is unfortunately reminded of his failed attempt at blackmailing you yesterday, which makes his face sour. "No, what makes you say that?"

Honestly, the thought of you tutoring Suna would raise some—if not all—eyebrows. That video posted the other day has made its rounds enough for everyone to guess that you and Suna are "mortal enemies". If someone from another class were to be asked what they think, they'd say that you and Suna being in the same room would just spell trouble (and inconvenience).

Neither of you are exactly thrilled at the prospect of being around each other either, but there's nothing else to be done. 

"How did ya convince them, then? Last I checked, they hate yer guts too. Maybe even more 'cuz you've been messing with them yesterday." Osamu asks, propping his chin on his palm.

Suna sighs, leaning back and tapping his pen on his desk. "Well, we made a deal, in exchange for tutoring me, I teach them—"

("Firstly, no one should know about this deal, especially Kita. If I found out ya tell anyone else about this, god forbid those Miya twins, yer dead to me." Maybe Suna should have asked if the soul-piercing and deadly glare on your face was serious or not.)

"—how to choose better manga next time." Now, Suna panicked; he said the first words that came to mind, apart from 'teach you how to be a girlfriend which is, in hindsight, such an absurd idea'. He just hopes you'd kill him a bit more gently now for outing you as an avid manga reader (you will not be pleased).

Osamu blinks. "...manga."

Suna's voice breaks. "Yes."

Osamu blinks again. "...they read manga?"

"They do; they, uh, they're not obsessed," (debatable), "and they don't read anything weird," (also debatable), "but, yes." Suna coughs. "They do."

God probably heard his plea because Osamu finally dropped it, shrugging his shoulders. "I guess I shouldn't judge a book by its cover." He says, turning back to the front of the class and Suna does a silent and subtle fistbump.

Morning classes end and lunch comes and everyone walks out of their classrooms. Everyone except for a few, however; and that includes you.

You're glaring at the unopened melon bread package in front of you, wanting to eat so bad but your stupid brain is scolding you too much to do so.

What were you thinking?! Do you want to die early from high blood pressure?!

You shouldn't have agreed to Suna's offer! A player with a bad track record of bad relationships isn't the best source of relationship knowledge! You should've thought about that.

Maybe it was the urge to one up him or maybe you were just that desperate, but in hindsight, this entire agreement is fucking WHACK.

You whine out in frustration, dropping your head in your arms to bury yourself away from the world. You even said you need to be careful of falling in love. As if you'd ever fall for someone like him! He's the worst! The absolute worst—!

"Hey—"

"Shut the hell up and leave me alone." You whine, lifting your head up to glare at whoever decided to interrupt your self-pity party. Only to have your eye almost poke out of their sockets when you see the familiar mop of silver hair that could only belong to Kita. A concerned looking one at that. 

"Hey, are ya okay?" Kita asks you, thick eyebrows knitted together in concern and your mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water, absolutely mortified.

"K-Kita! I'm sorry, I didn't—Oh my god, I'm so sorry," you let the sentence out with a rushed tone.

"I know ya never snap at people like that fer no reason, don't worry." Kita crouches down so he's eye level with you. "Then again, I haven't seen ya so irritated ever since we were kids. What's got ya so worked up?"

You let out a nervous laugh. Kita always knew if you were feeling down or feeling frustrated about something. That's just who he is, how he's been with you all your life. He could be a mountain away and he'd still be able to tell that you're overthinking about something.

("If it's real, then why hasn't Kita fallen for you yet?" The only good thing that happened after these words was the way Suna shut the fuck up at your glare.)

"Uhm, it's just something stupid, Kita." You say, hoping that that's enough to appease him. Alas, this is Kita. Mr. No-Gaps Kita is what his teammates call him, from what you heard.

"Ya can tell me anythin', remember?" Kita assures you, placing a hand on your forearm. 

God, if Suna were here, he'd probably comment on how rigid you became. "It's really nothing…" You trail off at the look on Kita's face and you internally groan.

Kita has two expressions that he knows absolutely, absolutely, wins you over every time. The Puppy Dog Eyes is his go-to because you always crumble under them after 3 seconds.

And the 'I'll Tell You're Brother About That One Time in the Porch And Won't Help You When He Teases You For It' look. He rarely ever uses this one. But when he does, you know he’s serious because he has shown you long chat threads between him and your dear older brother (you think the number one mistake in your childhood was allowing Kita and Shinichi to become friends as well) where Shinichi asks about how you're doing.

“Okay, fine! Just don’t tell Shinichi!” 

“I didn’t say I’d tell him…”

“Ya didn’t have ta.” You sigh, fixing your fringe. “I’m, uh, I’m tutoring Suna.” At your words, Kita's eyebrows raise and he straightens his back, surprised. You were adamant about not helping Suna with even a single chemical formula, so this is a shock.

"Ya sure? Ya don't have ta if you don't wanna, even if I ask ya to do it." Kita looks worried. "He needs the help but if he keeps being a bother to ya—"

You snort derisively, leaning back in your chair. "Well, he did try ta blackmail me," your admission immediately has Kita's face falling, replaced by an unimpressed glare.

"Oh. Did he now."

"Ya can stop thinkin' of making him suffer at practice later, we came to a compromise." You deadpan. "I know how to handle blackmail, Kita, I've done it plenty of times before. I wouldn't have agreed ta tutor him if we didn't have a deal."

Kita's face falls further, guilty, and you panic at the sight of it. You wave your hands frantically in front of you, stuttering over your words. "H-hey! Don't feel so guilty, Kita, it was my choice ta tutor him in the end." You assure him. "Besides, I ain't doin' it for free, he said he'd teach me—"

Shit.

"—hOw to play volleyball!"

If Suna were here, he wouldn't have just taken a picture, he would have recorded that audio. Maybe even taken a video. Because this would singlehandedly be the most embarrassing state you've been in ever since you were born. No, ever since your soul entered this world.

Kita blinks, confused at your outburst yet again. "...volleyball?" He repeats, as if bewildered.

God, you hope your voice doesn't crack again. "YeAh!" Sigh. "Volleyball. I—I don't know how to play so like, I thought—I thought it would be fun, ya know? Since ya play. And yer the captain of the volleyball team. Ya should know, how fun it is…. since ya play it everyday."

If the ground doesn't swallow you up in the next five seconds, you're going to purchase the next ticket to Antartica. The penguins won't judge you there. 

Kita blinks again before he frowns and his eyes are downcast. "You could've asked me ta teach ya." 

If the ground doesn't swallow you up in the next five seconds as punishment for making Kita sad, you're going to purchase the next ticket to Antartica so the penguins can judge you instead (Rockhopper Penguins look judgemental enough. Though you're not sure if there are Rockhopper Penguins in Antartica).

"I-I didn't wanna bother ya, Kita, yer already so busy with yer team…" You say immediately, trailing off when you see the slightly disappointed expression on his face.

You never liked to lie to Kita. It makes your stomach ache worse than when you met him for the first time. You've dubbed it the worst feeling in the world when your lie makes him sad in the process as well. 

"I want to." He replies.

"I'm sorry, I really just didn't wanna bother ya…" You say, clasping your hands together on your lap. "When I learn how to play volleyball, let's play a match together! I'll beat yer butt like old times!"

Finally, Kita sighs and gives you an endeared smile, smothering a laugh and patting your head. It's warm. "If ya say so. Though, I don't remember a time ya beat me in anything."

"Sure, there was. Ya remember that time with—"

It was nice, talking to him like this again while it lasted. A cough interrupts the two of you and you both turn to the doorway to see Aran standing there awkwardly, wearing an awkward smile. "Sorry ta interrupt, Kita, the coaches called for ya." He says, giving you a sheepish nod in greeting, which you return.

Aran knows Kita is fond of you, though he had never been able to decipher why their captain took a liking to you (in their eyes). "Right, I'm coming." Kita says, standing up straight once again.

Before he walks away, he turns to you and, with a soft smile, he says, "see ya later."

You politely wave goodbye, and watch as Kita and Aran walk out of your classroom and out of sight. When they're truly gone, you slowly deflate, eyes downcast and lower lip caught between your teeth.

You're so tired of acting like strangers.

With your art club duties done for the day, you immediately go over to the gymnasium. You finished at the same time the volleyball team finished practice, it seems, seeing as they are now busy tidying up the gym. You stand by the entrance, looking into the wide space with a blank but curious gaze.

Oddly, it's the older Miya twin who notices you first, freezing in the process of pushing the ball cart across the court. You blink, nodding at him. Which one was he again? Osamu? Atsushi? Atsumu?

"Pardon the intrusion," you say instead, bowing in politeness towards the faux blond. Instead of a proper reply, Atsumu gawks at you, eyes and mouth open wide, and he whirls around towards his twin with such speed you thought he broke his neck.

"SAMU. YA WEREN'T KIDDING, THEY REALLY ARE GONNA TUTOR 'IM." Were the words that escaped the blond's mouth in a rather eardrum-breaking shout. Honestly, judging from how he interacted with Nana the other day, does he really not have a low volume setting?

"SEE, I TOLD YA, YA DIDN'T BELIEVE ME." His twin is no different.

"Shut the hell up…" You finally notice Suna next to the gray-haired twin. He honestly looks close to melting to the ground. Maybe he shouldn't have told Osamu if he knew the latter would pester him so much.

"Pay them no mind. They're just surprised." Kita tells you as he walks towards you, but he has his piercing glare set on Atsumu and Osamu, who both stand rigid at the silent scolding.

You sigh. "Clearly." You mutter, before schooling your features. "I'm just here to fetch Suna."

"I'm coming, I'm coming, you don't have to escort me like I'm a kid." Said middle blocker glares at you with his sleepy eyes.

"I'm just makin' sure ya don't chicken outta our deal last second."

"Your sass is not appreciated after gruesomer-than-usual training." Suna rolls his shoulder to release the tension in his muscles. Practice is strangely harder than usual (Kita silently looks over strategy plans in the corner).

Osamu perks up as he suddenly calls your name, taking your attention. "If ya wanna read a new manga, try One Piece if ya haven't yet."

Silence. You blink once, twice, tilting your head. Suna silently covers his face beside you. "What?"

"Suna told me he'd help ya choose better manga next time in exchange fer tutorin' him."

Silence. You slowly turn to Suna with a scarily blank face, eyes wide and eyebrow twitching. "What?"

"Eh?" Suna hears Aran blurt out. "I thought Suna would teach them volleyball. That's what ya told me, right, Kita?"

It's your turn to freeze and slowly cover your face, as Suna slowly turns to you with a scarily blank face. "What?"

"We're doin' both!" You immediately exclaim, lifting both hands to slam them on Suna's mouth to stop him from talking. "He'll teach me how to choose better manga series," you give him a pointed glare, "and he'll also teach me volleybAll."

Before anyone could respond, you literally push Suna, middle blocker, 73.2 kilograms, out the double doors. "We'll be on our merry way now, goodbye!"

You're both out the doors and out of sight, leaving the rest of the team baffled at having one of their members—essentially—abducted.

Kita rubs a hand over his face. "I feel a heavy cloud covering me…."

"D-Don't worry, Kita! They'll be able ta be civil for a few hours at least!" Michinari cheerfully assures Kita. "The worst case scenario is that they kill each other!"

"......the cloud is getting heavier……"

"KITA!!!"

"Yer a goddamn asshole."

"I didn't exactly out you as an otaku—"

"I'm not an otaku!" You jut your pen at Suna’s face threateningly, which he easily moves to the side away from his vulnerable face. The air is slightly cold with the air conditioning, the ‘Please lower your voices in the library’ sign swaying idly in the draft. A couple of other students, maybe ten or twelve, are sitting at the other tables of the library. Some are just hanging around and refusing to go home yet, others cramming for quizzes tomorrow.

“Yes, sure, denial does not look cute on you, High and Mighty." Suna says and you massage your temples, feeling the worst migraine of the week coming on. You hate everything annoying.

"Let's just focus on studying fer now before ya give me a bigger headache." You say, sighing loudly as you pull out the materials you need for tutoring Suna. "Let's rank yer subjects from best to worst."

"What? Why?"

"In order ta pass midterms, we need to get all yer subjects at a passing grade. If yer best subjects are the ones yer already passing in, then we'll focus on your kryptonite first." You explain, tapping your pen on the table. "We'll give strict attention to your worst subjects then slowly start reviewing for yer better subjects once midterms are closer."

Suna opens his mouth to retort on instinct, but shuts it close again as he processes your words. "Makes sense."

You give him a passive shrug and a small smirk. "Of course it does, I said it."

"Sounding a little high and mighty there, High and Mighty." 

".............." You're dead silent, slowly raising a fist threateningly at Suna, who gets the message fairly quickly.

"Alright, I'll shut up."

Rolling your eyes, you listen as Suna lists Literature as one of his better subjects (a total shock to you, and when you tell him this, Suna pinched your arm) and lists Math and Science as his worst subjects (which didn't surprise you as much but when you tell him this, he still pinched you.)

"Lucky for you," you say, pulling out your Math and Science notes, "I tolerate those two subjects enough ta excel in 'em. We'll focus on Math an' Science fer now and work our way down to your easy subjects."

"I said Math and Science are my worst subjects but I don't think my grades are that bad." Suna interjects, crossing his arms.

"Well, that depends. Can I see yer recent quizzes from your Math and Science class?"

"........."

"I said, can I?"

".................."

Slowly, Suna pulls out a stack—more like crumpled PILE—of papers out of his backpack that you deadpan at, as he places the pile on the table and pushes it towards you. "...Additional Rule Number 7, don't shove yer test papers into yer bag as if they're cotton stuffin' fer a teddy bear."

"I was in a hurry." Suna wasn't exactly lying, per se, he was just in a hurry to not see the scores anymore.

Deadpan, you look down and sift through the pile, finally finding Suna's latest quizzes—

"..................................."

You're dead silent once again but instead of trying to hold back boiling rage, you're absolutely speechless. You alternate between the two test papers over and over again, as if it's going to change what you see on the paper, even turning them over again and again. A few other students in the library have decided to take glances at the two of you, wondering why there's so much incessant sounds of paper crumpling.

You finally look up at Suna with a blank expression, the two test papers in each hand. "Yer grades are fuckin' piss poor."

"It's not that bad—!"

"I don't know if a score of 0.5—in fuckin' total— is considered 'not that bad'!" You're waving his test papers in the air frantically, trying to channel your anger without punting him. "Look—LOOK—there's a freebie, a bonus question on the end, yeah? 'What is the name of yer Science teacher', yeah? That's the only source of yer score! And ya didn't even use the correct kanji!"

"I remembered it enough," Suna trails off, averting his gaze. "What would I do with the excess grades anyway?"

"Ya did not just call them excess grades!"

You massage your temples as you stare straight through Suna, finally realizing just what the hell you signed up for. This is it. The headaches to end all headaches. The peak of headacheness. The goddamn summit. No future headache will ever climb this high again.

"When are midterms…?"

"....in four weeks."

You slowly cover your face with your hands.

"...tutorin' just on weekdays ain't enough." You slide your hands down your face, already tired before you even started tutoring. "Yer not entirely a lost cause," ("Thanks???"), "but if we're gonna get ya ta pass midterms, we need a lot more sessions. A lot."

You're way too emotionally invested at this point because you cannot STAND to see grades that low again. "I'll hav'ta tutor ya on the weekends now too." You lean your chin on your palm. "This Saturday fer example, I'll come by yer house."

Suna grimaces at that and averts his gaze, scratching the back of his neck. "Maybe not my house. My little sister hates people in the house."

You hum. You understand the sentiment, since you don't like random people in your house either. "Then, we'll find somewhere quiet ta study. And fer god's sake, please review yer lessons at home."

"I do study at home, mind you."

"With grades like these??" You wave Suna's test papers in the air in front of his face. "No, ya ain't!"

"I'm sorry not everybody can be 'Miss Perfect' like you." Suna shoots back, glaring as he leans his chin on his hand as well. He's wearing such an arrogant and aggravating expression right now, and his tone is not helping.

"Miss Perfect??" You bristle, placing his test papers on the table again to clench your fists, not noticing your voice getting louder.

"What, you prefer High and Mighty, High and Mighty?" He goads, lips now stretched in his now familiar and all too infuriating smirk. Oh, he can just go and jump off a bridge while doing a triple backflip.

You and Suna glare at each other as the tense air around you increases tenfold, catching the attention of the rest of the students in the library. "Mind if I call ya Jackass then?" You shoot back.

"Bossy bitch."

"Baggy eyes."

"Whiney voice."

"Mr. Bean Haircut."

"Simp."

He did NOT! "Motherfu—!" You're about to release a spew of curses at the middle blocker in a fit of utter aggravation, fed up with his antics even after 20 minutes of being together. But you both flinch when you hear somebody shush you. Loudly.

The librarian is a mean lady and the only reason why you very rarely visit the library even though it has a considerable amount of books you'd like to browse through someday. Graying brown hair tied into a tight bun, egg shaped magenta glasses perched high on her snotty nose bridge. She's so vexing.

"Quiet." She says, eyeing you and Suna with the dirtiest look you've seen of her to date as she points up at a 'Please lower your voice in the library' sign. She's vexing but she gives you the shivers all the same.

"Ah, we apologize." You mutter, bowing your head.

"Sorry, I was just arguing with my tutor." Suna says at the same time and you whirl around to glare at him fiercely, which he ignores.

The librarian scoffs but returns to whatever she was doing before she set her ire on the two of you. "Great job, Suna." Your harsh tone doesn't evoke a response from him, his impassive gaze set on you. "Ya almost got us banned from the library!"

"Me?" Suna's scoff almost sounds identical to the librarian's. "You're the one who's getting riled up here, High and Mighty."

"Because you insist on bein' a pain in the neck!"

"I didn't even DO anything these past few minutes!"

"YER EXISTENCE IS ANNOYIN' IN GENERAL!"

"YOU'RE A PAIN IN THE NECK TOO, FOR YOUR INFORMATION—!"

"ENOUGH. YOU TWO. GET OUT!"

Present…

"Will ya please be serious about this fer once?!" You snap, finally lifting your face from your hands to glare at Suna for the nth time this afternoon. "We coulda been banned! The librarian just kickin' us out might be the nicer thing she coulda done ta us!"

"Your dialect gets stronger when you're angry." Suna unhelpfully comments instead of being serious like you asked. "That's a first, I gotta say."

"What first, that I was stupid enough ta argue with ya in the library?!"

"I was talking about almost getting banned from the library." Suna stands up and dusts off his pants. "But yeah. Seeing you get so riled up was entertaining, High and Mighty."

You sigh loudly, standing up as well and dusting yourself off too, stomping your foot. "At least yer the one who finds all of this funny." You send him a scathing glare. "Call me High and Mighty again and I'll break yer fingers, get ya benched from tournaments regardless of grades."

"Oooh, threatening me now. Not so innocent, are you, High and Mighty?" The kick you deliver to his shin completely wipes off the smirk that was starting to form on Suna's face. You're smug on the inside but you don't let it show on your face, turning around to walk away.

"Go home fer now, Suna." 

You don't let him have the last word, walking away before he could respond. You love doing that to him, don't you? Leave it up to you to rile Suna up just as much as he does you.

Not even the Miya twins are this annoying to him (and to say someone is more irritating than Atsumu? That's a feat). "High and Mighty… you've got no shame, do you?" He mutters under his breath, running a hand down his face. He has no shame either.

When he finally goes home to the apartment, he catches Risumi coming out of the living room, homework and empty strawberry milk carton in hand. Suna raises an eyebrow when he sees her and Risumi frowns, rolling her eyes.

"I'm home." He says as she turns around to walk back to her room. "Did you eat dinner?"

"Yeah."

"Risumi, if I open the fridge and see the curry untouched, I'm telling Mom you're not eating again." Suna threatens, following Risumi to the hallway that leads to their rooms. "Risumi."

"Whatever." Risumi turns her head just enough to glare at Suna before she slams the door to her room shut behind her. Suna's nose would have been crushed if he was standing just an inch further.

Suna sighs loudly, partly in pettiness so Risumi could hear him through the door, before trudging to the living room. He drops his bag to the floor, rubbing his face as he plops down on the couch and covers his eyes with his forearm.

How are you and Suna going to complete even one study session if you're both at each other's throats all the time? Maybe if you hadn't judged his grades earlier— ugh!

"Dad," Suna calls out to the air. The small shrine sits pristine at the corner like usual, Suna's father—Suna Masashi—smiling brightly in the picture. "How do you deal with people you can't stand?"

Their dad was always good at that, Suna somewhat remembers. Dealing with people without letting his emotions or ideals get in the way of things. Their dad was always professional, stoic. But so warmhearted with him and Risumi and their mother.

Suna abruptly pulls his arm away from his face. "It's not like I didn't antagonize them first." He admits to the empty space. "But you know, they proved my point anyway. So annoying…"

He finally looks at the photo sitting atop the small shrine. Eyes crinkled at the corners behind dark rimmed glasses, lips turned upwards in a radiant smile—the only smile reserved for their family. Slight showings of a light stubble on his chin. Suna frowns.

Their dad was described as cold and arrogant. He heard his elementary classmates back in Nagoya say so while their dad was still alive. Cold, arrogant, stoic. 

The front door opens and Suna turns to see their mother, Suna Tsubomi, walk into the apartment, tired and dressed in her nurse uniform. She blinks when she sees Suna and gives him a bright smile as she kicks off her shoes. "Rintarou! I'm home." She readjusts her low ponytail.

"Welcome home." Suna greets back, nodding at her. "Uhm, mom."

Tsubomi blinks, tilting her head as she places her bag down on the couch next to Suna's bookbag tentatively. "What's wrong, Rin? Something bothering you at school?" She asks Suna, eyebrows furrowed.

"No, not really." Suna averts his gaze. "What was dad like in high school?"

"Hot."

"Mom."

Tsubomi laughs heartily, patting Suna on the head. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry. I couldn't resist like I couldn't resist your dad when we were second years." Her words make Suna groan in embarrassment. "Well, to answer your question, your dad was like… hmm, he was the same when he was in high school and when he became your dad.

"He was real quiet. Real intimidating, too. Everyone avoided him like the plague when he first transferred." Tsubomi giggles fondly. "But he wasn't as scary or arrogant as everyone thought him to be, mind you. I saw him chase down a cat that stole his underwear, you know," Suna snorts, "it's true! Chased it down three blocks before he got his underwear back. Your dad had his moments."

"What made you like him?"

Tsubomi hums, holding her chin with her fingers. "I didn't like him at first. Like everybody else, I thought he was rude and arrogant and cold." Her eyes soften ever so slightly as she looks over at the picture in the corner, atop the small shrine, as if a distant memory is replaying in her head. "But then, I don't know.

"I looked at him from a different angle."

Suna blinks, sitting up straighter when he hears those words. Tsubomi laughs, waving her hand. "And then we had you and Risumi so I guess that new perspective was worth it. Why do you ask, Rin?" Her eyes suddenly shone like stars. "Do you like somebody, perhaps?"

"No. No, it's just… somebody from school I've been having trouble with." Suna says, averting his gaze again. "They're cold, distant, and rude, and it always feels like they're judging everything and everyone." (You do, though.) "We were…supposed to be working together today, but we couldn't get anything done because we kept butting heads."

Tsubomi frowns, placing her hands on her hips with a stern expression. "Are they the one causing trouble?" She asks.

"...it's not entirely them." Suna admits, sighing.

Their mom hums. "Maybe the both of you butt heads because you haven't come to an understanding yet. Just give it time, and do what you're supposed to do. Who knows," she smiles brightly, close eyed, "maybe you'll see them in a different light, as they will you."

The middle blocker is silent, lips sealed shut as he glances at Masashi's picture once again. "Debatable."

Ring. Ring.

Tsubomi raises an eyebrow at the ringtone, watching as Suna pulls out his phone and stares at the unknown phone number in confusion. "Who's that?"

"I don't know."

Suna hangs up the call and not even two seconds later, the same number rings again, accompanied with a lone, borderline aggravated message:

unknown [7:37PM]

pick up the phone jackass

"I'm going to my room for a bit." Suna says, nodding when their mother tells him to just come out for dinner in a few minutes.

There's only one person he knows that would be able to channel such irritated energy in a text like that (it's lowkey funny). Plopping down onto his bed, the door shut, he finally answers your call. "Yo."

"Ya take so long ta answer a simple call."

"I don't normally answer random calls from random numbers." Suna furrows his eyebrows and rubs his temple. "How did you get my number anyway?"

"A little silver birdie gave me yer number when ya conveniently forgot ta do so."

"I didn't forget to give you my number. I remembered to not give you my number. Biiig difference."

"Whatever." Suna lets out a small 'snrk' at your exasperated tone. "I remembered a good spot for us ta study. It's a hole in the wall cafe some blocks away from the school. Only a handful of people go there, and I'm pretty sure no one from our school knows the place." 

"A hole in the wall, huh?" Suna muses, clicking out of the call to scroll through his social media, rolling his eyes when he sees a video of you and Suna arguing in the library entitled 'Suna Rintarou and Asagao Kid finally duke it out! #NO CLICKBAIT!!!' (he knows he records and posts videos of Atsumu and Osamu brawling from time to time but come on). "Sounds like a good idea. I don't really like the idea of other people watching us. I'm willing to guess you don't want other people to watch me teach you how to be in relationships, too."

"Of course I don't, jackass!" He hears you sigh from the other end of the line. "Then, let's walk together after yer practice and my club activities. It's a little hard to locate the cafe if yer not used to the area."

"Sure, High and Mighty." Suna smirks when he hangs the call up right after, knowing he didn't let you respond this time. Heh.

His phone pings again.

unknown [7:49PM]

youre an ass

He couldn't help it; he actually laughs out loud at your message, collapsing back onto his bed with a slight bounce of the mattress, his phone on his stomach. Maybe he should change your contact name to something he knows you'll roll your eyes at and chastise him for when you ever decide to steal his phone.

high&mighty [7:50PM]

dont change my contact name to anything stupid on your phone, okay

suna [7:50PM]

too late :P

"We finished earlier than usual!" Nana cheers, pumping her fists in the air in victory as the three of you walk out the clubroom after another long day, stretching her back while she does so. 

Ryuji grins brightly back, glancing at you. "The posters for the volleyball team should be done by the end of the week as well, earlier than we planned."

"I know, I'm sorta happy about it." You smile, already imagining the elated face Kita would have once the posters are finished. "I'm kinda proud of them too."

"Ya should be more than 'kinda' proud of 'em, senpai!" Nana turns to face you, a stern expression on her face. "Ya worked on those posters real hard! And they all look so amazin', those meatheaded volleyball players would be downright stupid if they call yer hard work ugly!"

You giggle lightly, Ryuji rolls his eyes. "No one is going ta outright call Vice Prez's posters ugly."

"Ya never know. A couple of those volleyballers are outright dumbasses."

"Yer talkin' about the blond Miya."

"How'd ya know."

"Guys, stop it." You chastise them and they both sigh loudly, muttering drawled 'okay's. "Speaking of the volleyball team, I need ta go over to the gym and fetch Suna again for tutorin'."

Nana turns to you with a 'scandalized' expression, Ryuji blinks at you curiously. "WHAT? But I thought the both of ya got banned from the library! There was a whole video about it online!"

"We were just kicked out, not really banned. I found a good spot he and I could go to to study without anyone else catching us arguing." Your casual tone makes the two of them freeze, bodies going rigid and book bags almost falling from their shoulders from lack of support. 

"S, somewhere… secret?" Nana starts.

"Where no one else will see the two of ya?" Ryuji continues, face going white.

Oblivious, you turn around with a curious and impassive expression, mentally wondering why they suddenly stopped walking. "Yeah, why?"

You are responded to with Nana abruptly grabbing your biceps, holding you there with an urgent look on her face. "S-senpai, if Suna touches ya in any way, you run the opposite direction, ya hear me?" Her words prompt a weird noise from you, something between a strangled goat and a guy choking on jello, pounding on your chest to prevent choking yourself.

"Wh— wait, no, yer misunderstanding! We really are just going to study, we aren't going to be completely alone—!"

"Take this pepper spray with ya just in case." Ryuji hands you a small container.

"I don't need it! Why are y'all being so weird about it!" You ask, flustered at their ill hidden assumptions.

"Senpai, Suna Rintarou is a PLAYBOY and yer going to be together, ALONE." Nana pulls on her long wild hair for emphasis, in part frustration and part worry.

"I'll be fine!" You pout, crossing your arms. You're getting annoyed at their paranoia.

"Vice Prez, we're just worried about ya. We know he's not that bad," Nana gives Ryuji a hard glare, "we know he might not be that bad, but it's always better ta be safe than sorry."

Letting out a long, drawn out sigh, you drape yourself on Nana and Ryuji's shoulders, pulling them close to you with an exasperated and defeated expression. "Fine, I'll just be extra…"

"Extra careful." Ryuji points at you with a long finger.

"Yeah, yeah, I'll be extra careful."

"And kick him in the nuts if he does anythin' perverted!" Nana exclaims, some students around you turning their heads at Nana's words.

You cover your face to avoid being associated. "Got it. I'm leaving now."

"Remember, senpai, the nuts! Go for the nuts!" Nana yells after you and you walk faster, eager to escape the embarrassing situation.

On the plus side, you arrive at the gym in record time. On the down side, your shins hurt. Trudging to the entrance, you can hear the sound of the ball hitting the polished wooden floorboards and the squeaking of sneakers against the surface. You'll probably be hearing this a lot in the following weeks.

Moving the net away so you can enter, you announce your entrance, "Sorry for the intru—"

Only to be almost hit with a volleyball that's probably going the speed of a bullet train. "—sion." You calmly finish, passively watching the ball bounce to a stop a few feet away and slowly turning your gaze to see who almost hit you.

"I'M SORRY." None other than Miya Atsumu shouts from the other side of the gym, frozen on his post-jump serve position and face white as a sheet. You deadpan.

Is this something you have to get used to in the coming weeks too…?

"Great job, idiot." Osamu's sarcasm is met with a fiery response from Atsumu, who whirls around to face his twin with a crimson face.

"SHUDDUP, 'SAMU!"

This interaction alerts Kita of your presence while Akagi goes to fetch the wayward ball, the former already beginning to jog towards your side when Suna beats him to it.

"High and Mighty, careful or you'll mess up that pretty face." He teases you, hands shoved in his shorts as improvised pockets. You feel annoyed already.

"Aww, ya think I'm pretty, Suna?" You drawl sarcastically, throwing a halfhearted glare his way and daintily covering your mouth with your hand.

He rolls his eyes. "Got me again, you goofy cow."

"Did you just call me a cow—? Ya know what, don't answer that."

"I meant a cow as a compliment!"

"Oh thank you, great sweaty ass Suna." You drawl, rolling your eyes and crossing your arms.

"I'm sweaty, huh?" Suna outstretched his arms. "Gimme a hug."

"Ew, no. Yer gonna get yer disgusting sweat on me."

Suna gives you an unamused expression and suddenly stalks towards you, arms still outstretched and dead set on hugging you with his sweaty ass. "S, Suna, no. Absolutely not. Suna Rintarou, stop that this instant—SUNA!"

"Just one lil hug."

"No!" You squeal, clumsily trying to dodge his tall frame and his stupid long arms.

"You're so cruel, High and Mighty, denying a guy his hugs." He's deadpan as he chases you around the court, earning looks from the rest of the team. You continue to yell curses at him, evading him around the net that Aran and Ginjima are trying to take down to return to the storage room (and failing because of the two of you).

Akagi arrives back with the ball Atsumu served way out of bounds, raising an eyebrow at the scene in front of him as he glances at Kita. "Shouldn't we stop 'em?" 

Kita watches you and Suna, Suna finally getting close enough to wrap his sweaty body around you before you kick him in the shin. Osamu laughs at the middle blocker's plight. "No, let them be. We're finished with practice anyway." There's a small, soft smile on Kita's face, brown eyes crinkling at the corners. Akagi raises his eyebrows but doesn't reply, sporting a small smile as well.

Suna finally gives up and heads to the showers with the rest of the team, much to your relief. You don't want to walk around smelling like expired fish sauce. When he finally emerges from the locker room, dressed in his uniform and book bag slung on his shoulder once again, he drapes his large frame over you, his heavy weight making you grunt.

"I'm tired, carry me."

"Get off of me, ya jackass!"

"Yer goin' already, Suna?" Osamu calls out to the both of you, Atsumu close behind his gray haired twin. 

"Yep, I'm getting tutored by High and Mighty here." Suna pats your head. "This noggin's my lifeline right about now."

"Then ya better focus on studyin' a bit harder." You kick Suna in the shin again, making him pull himself off you as you begin to walk towards the exit, Suna dramatically limping right after you singing a string of curse words.

Osamu glances at his twin, an eyebrow raised. "Ya think they'll ever finish even one lesson?"

Atsumu doesn't answer that, instead narrowing his honey brown eyes at you and Suna before you exit the gym, more specifically at your retreating figure. "'Samu."

"Hm?"

"Aren'tcha a little bit, I don't know, suspicious of the Asagao kid?" Atsumu crosses his arms. It's seldom that Atsumu is serious and actually thinks of something seriously other than volleyball.

"Why would we be?"

"Crap, I dunno, just—ya know, what if they're like Katatsu—" Atsumu stops, shaking his head and scratching his temple, nose scrunching. "Nevermind. Forget I said anythin'."

Osamu frowns and crosses his arms as well, everything from last year flooding into his head. He doesn't have to be Atsumu's twin to be on the same wavelength as him, to understand exactly what he's saying. "To be fair, I don't think there's anybody worse than that woman."

Atsumu snorts in derision. "Worse than her? No, never." He narrows his eyes. "But as bad as her? Maybe."

If Suna hadn't deemed you at least sane enough to not kill him for all the times he's messed with you, he would have hightailed it outta there once he saw the dodgy alleyway you led him to. 

At least, he's sure you're sane enough not to do that, he thinks as he follows you down said dodgy alleyway at 6PM, the sun about to set, away from the mostly bustling street into the quiet, conspicuous, perfect-for-an-inside-job—

"I feel like you're going to have me murdered." His tone is blunt, face impassive when you turn your head behind you to look at him with a raised eyebrow. "At least let me say goodbye to my mom and my bratty sister first."

"I dunno, do ya think I'm capable of havin' ya murdered?" Suna is not too sure if that's sarcasm or not.

"I mean," Suna adjusts his book bag, "maybe not you alone."

You only hum in response, choosing to not reply to that as you continue to walk forward. "Wait, are you."

"Am I." You deadpan but you stop in front of a quaint, sliding door, flanked on either side with a vast array of flowers, bouquets placed onto small wooden boxes, with light brown awning.

It contrasts greatly with the rest of the alley, which is dark, damp, and honestly a little smelly. There's a wooden sign placed above the awning, the words 'Chiho's Flower Lab' written gracefully in calligraphy. There's also a relatively smaller sign next to it, which Suna almost didn't notice. 'Cafe on the second floor'.

"I hope ya ain't allergic to flowers." You say to a confused Suna, before you slide the door open, letting the light from inside bathe the dark and damp alleyway.

Asagao General Hospital ID: Suna Tsubomi

Age: 43 years old

Birthday: February 13

Fun Fact: In high school, Tsubomi followed the gyaru trend and was one of the most popular girls among the student body (oh how did Masashi win this gal's heart?)

Sports Instructor ID: Suna Masashi

Age: 38 (deceased)

Birthday: April 4

Fun Fact: Masashi was the team's starting setter when he was in high school, though a bit of a loner because of his intimidating attitude.

Student ID: Suna Risumi

Age: 13

Birthday: August 11

Fun Fact: She's a closet otaku, none of her classmates in Kitsuhana Middle School know this side of her. Suna has caught her reading manga past 3 am in the past.

[marauderundercover]

Taking Chances Ch. 22: Petrichor and Bibliosmia (Library/books)

AO3

Prev

Marinette frowned at the rain outside of her window. She had wanted to go to the botanical gardens with Harley and Ivy today. But with the rain, both women decided it would be better to just reschedule. They didn’t want her to get sick. Which, to be fair, was sweet. But still upsetting because she really wanted to go to the gardens. She’d planned on using the plants as inspiration to make something for Ivy.

“Tikki, I’m bored.” She says, looking at her smallest friend. Tikki just looks at her.

“You’ve been stuck inside because of the weather before, Marinette. Why don’t you design?” Tikki suggests. Marinette huffs, flopping back down onto the cushioned window seat.

“But there’s nothing inspiring in my room, Tikki.” She mumbles, before shooting back up. “Do you think any of the boys are here?” She asks.

“Only one way to find out!” Tikki says with a smile, obviously relieved to have avoided any more whining from Marinette. She jumps up, throwing one of Dick’s old hoodies on over her t-shirt. She’d always gotten cold easily, and becoming the holder of the Ladybug Miraculous didn’t help. That, and the manor was cold on a good day- it would probably be freezing with how bad the weather was. She slides down the banister, knowing her Dad was at work and couldn’t yell at her.

“Miss Marinette, if you insist on behaving like your brothers, I will have to resort to treating you like your brothers.” Alfred says with raised eyebrows. But she can sense the smile wanting to break through. She just grins apologetically.

“Sorry, Alfred.” She says. “Speaking of my brothers, are any of them here right now?” She asks. If they’re not, she could probably convince Alfred to bake something with her. As long as she promises not to slide down the banister again.

“I believe Master Jason is in the library. Masters Dick and Damian are in the gym and Master Tim is at Wayne Enterprises with your father.” He says and she hums, thinking. She could go do some training with Dick and Damian, or she could go sit and sketch in the library with Jason.

“Thanks Alfred!” She says, giving him a wide smile before turning and walking down one of the many halls. She glances in open doors as she walks. Despite having lived here for nearly a month, she still got lost going anywhere other than her room, the dining room, the kitchen, and the Batcave. They were kind of the places she’d gone the most. She could also easily find her dad’s study and the main sitting room, most of the time. But the library wasn’t really a place she’d spent a lot of time in. And while she loved Dick and Damian, she also knew that they hadn’t gotten time to hang out just the two of them in a while. She’d talked to Dick before, about how when their dad was missing, he was basically Damian’s father. She knew that bonds like that didn’t just go away, knew that neither boy wanted it to. So she figured she’d just annoy Jay instead of barging in on the others’ bonding time.

Finally finding the library, she grins. Pushing the cracked door open a little more, she moves into the room, jaw dropping. The floor to ceiling bookshelves were packed. There were huge overstuffed couches, and the large windows had window seats attached- perfect little reading nooks. Quickly making a mental note to come to the library more, she starts to search for Jay. She knew he had to be in here. Alfred is never wrong. She grins when she spots him, sitting in what looked like an insanely uncomfortable position, but one she knew from experience was the best.

“Whatchya reading?” She asks, walking over and getting comfortable on the couch next to him.

“<i>Pride and Prejudice<i>.” He says, continuing reading for a moment before putting a little scrap of paper in the book and shutting it. “What’s up, Pixie Pop?” He asks, looking at her with a grin. Marinette sighs dramatically and moves so that she’s upside down on the couch.

“It’s raining. And I was supposed to go to the gardens with Ivy and Harley but they canceled because of my ‘health’ and they were ‘concerned’.” She says with a pout.

“And you decided the library was the best place to curb your boredom? No offense kid, but you don’t seem like the type to read.” He says and she huffs.

“I like books! It’s just-” She pauses, remembering the way Lila had teased her for it back in Paris. Her classmates hadn’t joined in, not really. They’d just agreed that she was a little odd.

“You okay, Pix?” Jason asks, his earlier grin replaced with a slightly concerned look. Marinette winces and nods.

“Yeah it’s- I can read. I swear I can. But when I’m looking at a book, or an article or anything with a lot of text, it gets hard to pick out the pieces. Things just kind of swirl together and then I can’t decode it and I get frustrated and just stop reading. It sucks, ‘cause I do like books. I listen to audiobooks while doing commissions.” She rambles, stopping and turning red. Though that may be from hanging upside down on the couch. Sighing, she sits up and shrugs. “Sorry I’m so weird.” She says. Jason’s face morphs into a scowl.

“Just ‘cause you learn differently doesn’t mean you’re weird, kid. Just means you’ve got your own style. Don’t let any of those little shits you go to school with tell you differently.” He says, reaching out and ruffling her hair. She smiles at him, a genuine happy smile. She was so relieved that he didn’t think she was weird. Or stupid. Lila had thrown that word around. That one hurt. Marinette prided herself on her quick thinking and cleverness. And her grades. They were some of the best in the class! So for Lila to call her stupid…

“Pixie.” Jason says, drawing the nickname out in a sing-song voice. She looks at him and raises an eyebrow. “You were zoned out, kid. So, was there something ya wanna do?” He asks. Marinette glances down at the book in his hand and frowns.

“I don’t wanna keep you from reading. I can just sit in here with you. I’ll probably end up grabbing my sketchbook.” She says. Jason waves in a ‘no big deal’ motion.

“I’ve read this book a million times.” He reassures her. She glances at the cover again, realizing it’s not one she’s really heard much about before.

“What’s it about?” She asks. “I’ve never read it.” Jay’s face morphs into a huge grin.

“You said you like listening to books, right?” He asks. She nods. “Well, then settle in because I’m going to read to you.” He says proudly with a grin.

“Oh, you really don’t-” She tries to say. She didn’t want to make him read to her. That was not-

“Oh but I want to.” He says, effectively cutting off her mental ramble before she can complete her meltdown. “Listen Pix, this is one of my favorite books. If you go listen to some dumb audio book, you won’t get my commentary. Trust me, this is the best way for you to read the book.” He says and she snorts, shaking her head lightly.

“Okay, Jay, let’s read a book.”

---

Finally arriving home after being stuck at the office, Bruce sets off to find his daughter. Since his apology a few days ago, he’d attempted to make an effort to check in on her and see how she was doing. He tried to also do the same with the boys, but they had all given him odd looks, so he didn’t continue. He checks her room, the Batcave, the sitting room- nothing. He finally decides to check the kitchen. If he had to guess, she’d be there baking with Alfred. He walks in and sees Alfred, but no Marinette.

“Good evening, Alfred. Have you seen Marinette?” Bruce asks, silently hoping she hadn’t left the planet again.

“I believe she’s in the library with Master Jason.” Alfred says and Bruce blinks in surprise. He’d never seen her read a book before, while Jason always had a book on him. He supposed it could be a hobby of hers that he just hasn’t noticed. Or, she could have just followed Jason. Which seems more likely. The two of them were all but attached at the hip ever since the Gala. It was surprising, but at the same time welcoming. Thanking Alfred quickly, he walks towards the library. He’d just say hi and leave. No need to make them stop reading if they were having fun. Gently pushing open the library door he walks in and pauses at the sight. Marinette had wrapped herself in a blanket and was almost sitting on the edge of the couch, leaning forward with an intense look of concentration on her face. Jason had his legs swung over the arm of the couch and was reading out loud. Immediately recognizing the book as Jason’s favorite, Bruce slowly leaves the library, careful not to let the door slam. He’d have the chance to talk to Marinette later, but for now, he’d let the two continue reading in peace.

Next

Tag list: @maribat-bdbwm @vixen-uchiha @stainedglassm @liquid-luck-00 @laurcad123 @waiting247 @jayjayspixiepop @mizzy-pop @jjmjjktth @trippingovermyfeet @queenz-z @thepaceperson @iloontjeboontje @toodaloo-kangaroo @ritacrow-blog @deathssilentapproach-blog @kittenmywaythrulife @nerd-nowandforever @tazanna-blythe @jaybird-and-co @jumpingjoy82 @lady-bee-fechin @corporeal-terrestrial

[cafedanslanuit]

chapter guide | prev. chapter | next chapter | extra content

✖   —   chapter summary: after receiving a text from zeke, you go out to meet him, leaving porco behind. your head is full of questions and you're not quite sure how you're going to confront him about last night's events.

✖   —   pairing: porco/reader & zeke/reader

✖   —   chapter tags/warnings: college au, protected sex, zeke calls you a good girl, mentions and/or descriptions of parental emotional abuse/traumatic childhood, hurt/comfort, fluff, referenced cheating. 

✖   —   a/n: beta read by my friend @ofoceansandtombstones​ <3 the title of the chapter is a reference to “oh daddy” by fleetwood mac.

chapter two: oh daddy

The only sounds you could hear when you got to the tennis court Zeke asked you to meet at was the ball being hit with the rackets and grunts from the two blond men you were expecting to see. Even if Reiner was a part of the swimming team along with Zeke, he always indulged his friend into playing with him, especially in the early mornings.

Neither Zeke nor Reiner realized you were there, too focused on the game, so you walked to the bleachers and sat down, forearms resting on your knees and hunched back as you watched the game.

Reiner was one of your only friends that liked being around Zeke, which really baffled your mind as the only one who knew about your dirty laundry was Porco. Yet, even after two years of being together, Annie wouldn’t even try to start a conversation with Zeke the multiple times he was over at your place. Armin, being the sweetheart he was, tagged along with her, only saying hello or goodbye while making a beeline towards Annie’s room. Pieck, Marcel and Bertholdt also made sure to avoid interacting with him, each of them in their own ways.

You sighed, pressing the bridge of your nose. You didn’t have the time to worry about it that morning.

A hard hit from Reiner made Zeke miss the ball and turn around to retrieve it. This gave Reiner the chance to look around, waving at you when he noticed your presence. You gave him a small smile and waved back.

“Your girlfriend is here.”

Zeke turned around quickly, his grey-blue eyes finding yours. You hated how a smile crept up your lips even after the disastrous night you had spent. His boyish grin and friendly wave would always bring warmth to your chest, and that spoke about how much your heart still belonged to him.

Your eyes were so fixated on each other you didn’t notice Reiner chuckling softly at the way you were looking at each other. Walking around the court, he called up Zeke, startling him and shook his hand. You didn’t listen to what he was saying but after a short conversation, Reiner turned around, waving at you again and started walking out the court. Zeke gestured to join him and you nodded, getting up and walking to the court with your hands in your pockets.

The moment you stepped a foot inside the court, Zeke started walking to you and met you halfway. He grabbed your face and placed a kiss on your lips, humming happily to himself. You kissed him back half-heartedly, your hands still secure inside your pockets without an ounce of need to put them around his neck like usual.

“You look so beautiful,” he said once he pulled away, holding your face tenderly.

You gave him a strained smile.

“Why did you call me so early?” you sighed.

Zeke’s grin didn’t waver, instead pressing a kiss on your forehead.

“Give me a second,” he said excitedly, before turning around and walking to the backpack that was against the wall. He left his tennis racket next to it and, after rummaging for a short while, he came back holding a baseball and a glove in his hand.

With a hand on the small of your back, he guided you until you were on the edge of the court. He carefully put the glove on your hand and ran back to the other edge of the court, both of you staying just on one side of the tennis court.

There was a part of you that wanted nothing more than to throw the glove away, stomp on it and demand answers from him but Zeke’s eager smile was nothing like you had seen before. He was really excited about this and even if you weren’t sure as to why , you felt compelled to follow along.

Zeke threw the ball at you and you took a couple of steps back to catch it with your glove. You winced in pain, your muscles still mad at you for drinking so much last night. You threw the ball as hard as you could but it didn’t reach your boyfriend, instead falling to the ground. Without saying a word, he shortened the distance between the two of you and threw the ball again.

A silent game of catch started between the two of you under the morning rays of sun. Seeing how happy Zeke was made you remember why you had fallen in love with him in the first place. He only smiled like that when he was around you, a huge grin on his face and a small couple of wrinkles on each side of his eyes. It was completely different from the way he smiled in social events and you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter knowing it was only you that could see him like this.

It had been almost two years since a junior that sat a few seats away from you at your History of Philosophy class had asked to take a look at your notes at the end of your second class. He confessed it was his third time taking the course as he has failed it twice already. It was his last chance to pass the course and he had seen you taking a lot of notes and answering questions right, hence he was asking for your help. You couldn’t help but giggle at the image of this tall junior asking for the help of a freshman but you agreed and even offered to help him prepare for the exam if he really needed it.

That was the first time he truly smiled at you. And since then you had been hooked.

From a hidden makeout session at the back of the library to him introducing you to his half-brother, you had suddenly become the ‘it couple’ on campus. Zeke always took you out to social gatherings along with his classmates, presenting you as his girlfriend and keeping an arm around your shoulders at all times, letting everyone know who you were with.

Time went by and he even took you to his grandparents’ house, a lovely old couple that lived on the edge of town. You had dinner with them and smiled as they went on and on about how much they loved and were proud of their grandson. As they told you endearing but slightly embarrassing stories about Zeke when he was a little kid, you couldn’t help but notice they didn’t mention his parents in any of the stories. When you went to the kitchen to help his grandmother bring the dessert you tried looking for a picture of his parents and didn’t find it either. But you knew better than to ask.

The conversation ran long and when you two noticed, it was already too late to drive back, so you both decided to stay at their house for the night. After his grandparents had gone to sleep, you sat in front of the chimney, sitting next to each other, your head on his shoulder and enjoying the soft music coming from his phone. Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Rumours’ album was one of Zeke’s favourite albums and it was slowly starting to become yours as well.

A sniffle distracted your thoughts.

You pulled away immediately, kneeling and holding his face tenderly. It seemed Zeke had been crying for quite some time now and your eyes filled with worry.

“Baby, are you okay? What’s wrong?” you whispered, your thumbs wiping the tears running down his cheeks to his beard.

“I miss him,” he mumbled.

“Your dad?” you asked softly.

Zeke shook his head and averted his gaze from you. You turned his head back to you again and pressed a kiss on his forehead.

“You can talk to me, Zeke. Stronger together, right?” you said with a soft smile. He reciprocated it with a small nod.

Words fell from Zeke’s mouth like a broken dam, tears falling from his eyes quicker than you were able to kiss them away. You listened to him in silence, your fingers running across his dark blond locks, trying your best to soothe him as he tripped over his own words, painting a picture of his childhood.

He told you about their parents and their strong alliance with a political party when he was a kid. How they would talk to him about the party’s history and why he should be on their side, often getting irritated at him for not remembering all the details. He blamed himself for being too young to understand, for not paying enough attention when they talked to him about it. When a chance arrived for him to apply to a scholarship for middle school in a very prestigious private school, both his parents registered him, saying he should study hard to get that scholarship so he could start talking about the political party to the sons and daughters of the high class, so more people could support them.

But Zeke had never been good at school. He reminded you the reason you had met was that he had already failed a course twice, only salvaging it because you tutored him. So when he was ordered to get that scholarship, he studied day and night, sometimes not even going to bed because he wanted to make his parents happy and going to school without having slept even for a minute. But his scores were still low, igniting long and loud fights between his mom and dad, making him silently weep inside his bedroom as he listened to how much of a disappointment he was.

“You’re not a disappointment,” you interrupted him. His eyes that had been set on the chimney turned to you and he lifted the corners of his mouth.

You knew he didn’t believe you.

“They were taken by the police a few days before my scholarship exam. Turns out the political party they were into was… a bit radical.” He didn’t comment further and you thought it was best not to ask for details. “So I came to live with my grandparents. I was enrolled in public middle school and got a sports scholarship to get into university, hence why I’m a part of the swimming team.”

“Are they still…” your question died in your lips.

“In prison? No,” Zeke sighed, taking his glasses off and passing a hand across his face. “They got out after a couple of years. My mom died in a car accident shortly after and my dad remarried Eren’s mom. He lives with her now. Honestly, she’s a very sweet woman, she has always been kind to me. I don’t know how she stands him,” he said with a small chuckle.

“Even so, it’s okay to miss him, you know? Families are… complicated. So it wouldn’t be wrong for you to miss him from time to time.”

“I meant I miss Ksaver,” Zeke said, a sad smile on his lips. He took your hand in his, playing with it absentmindedly. “He was my science teacher at elementary school. He noticed how much I was struggling and how little sleep I was getting. He offered to tutor me some afternoons and we always ended up playing catch for a while before I had to go home. I think I was only able to go by because I could always look for spending my afternoons with him. We kept in touch when I went to middle school and he was always willing to help me out whenever I needed help with my classes or with the girls,” he said, a chuckle escaping his lips. “He lent me his jacket for my first date and he was the one I told about my first kiss with a girl in high school.”

You smiled sweetly, squeezing his hand softly.

“I wish I could have introduced you to him. But he… died, a couple of weeks after I started uni. Cancer. I never knew,” he said bitterly, biting the inside of his cheek. “So being here, listening to my grandparents tell you stories about when I was a kid… just made me remember him, you know? And shit— I really miss him.”

That night when you went to bed, you made sure to hold him a little tighter as he laid his body on top of yours. The feeling of his beard scratching your skin as he kissed your neck made you claw your nails on his muscular back. The room was filled with the sweetest breathy moans as you tried your best to be silent so you didn’t wake his grandparents up.

He pressed a long kiss on your lips before getting off of you, rummaging through his pants and trying to find a spare condom in his pockets. You waited as he put it on, fingertips gently tracing his forearms as a subtle reminder you were still there. Zeke hovered over you with a loving smile, his grey-blue eyes locked in yours making you feel as if you were the only woman he had ever even glanced at.

He slid into you, your lips parting as your body adjusted to his length. He started at a calm pace, his pelvis rubbing just right against your clit, making you see stars every time he moved. You held tightly on his muscular arms, moving your hips as you desperately craved for more.

It wasn’t long until he was pulling out of you, turning you on your stomach and thrusting inside of you again. It didn’t surprise you, he had always shown a preference for fucking you from behind.

Zeke’s hands were holding your waist tightly while he kept bucking his hips against you, his hot breath tickling your ear. The low grunts coming out of his mouth as he buried himself in you were all you could think about as you muffled your moans on the pillow. His fingers were digging on your skin, for sure leaving marks for you to find the next day, a hobby you had grown fond of ever since you started sleeping with Zeke. He was relentless, hips rutting against you without mercy, each thrust getting deeper and deeper inside of you.

“Shit, you give it so good to me, baby,” he grunted, bitting down on your shoulder. You whimpered, closing your fists on the sheets as you tried to arch your back even more to him. “Yeah, just like that— such a good girl to me.”

The way he increased his rhythm for a few seconds and then stilled behind you let you know he has reached his high. You felt as he rolled away from your body, lying on your side with a content smile, lips parted as he tried to regain his breath. You smiled softly at him and caressed his cheek with your knuckles.

Maybe it was a stretch, but you wished to have the power to stop him from ever getting hurt again. You wanted to protect that smile at all costs, not even letting the cold air touch him or anything that could ever threaten his well-being again. It was at that moment that you decided you would make sure he was the happiest man he could be as long as you were there.

As you saw Zeke smile as he threw the baseball, you remembered your vow. He was really the prettiest when he smiled. After your last throw, he caught it and gestured to you to come closer. He kissed you once again and this time you melted in his touch, the familiar taste of his lips taking you back to that night in front of the fire. He put the glove and baseball into his backpack and took your hand, placing a small kiss on the back of it.

“C’mon. Let's get breakfast.”

Finding an isolated spot on campus was easy, both of you sitting down under a tree. On your way there, Zeke had bought a couple of juice boxes from a vending machine and once you had gotten comfortable on the ground you realized he had packed a couple of sandwiches for both of you. You took one and smiled at him as a thank you.

“Have you thought about trying out for the baseball team? Bet you would do great there,” you commented, taking your first bite.

“I… I honestly haven’t played in forever,” Zeke said, shaking his head. “Hell, I hadn’t played like this since Ksaver died.”

“What changed?” you asked softly.

“Found this baseball while looking through my tennis stuff this morning as I was leaving to play with Reiner. So I brought them with me because…” he made a pause, looking down at his sandwich. “I wanted to play with you. I wanted to— to share this with you. You know how much it means to me and I couldn’t think of anyone else I wanted to do this with after all these years.”

You smiled at his words and right when you were leaning to kiss him, the memory of Yelena leaving his house hit you. Right. You had seen them, how had you forgotten about this?

Zeke noticed the way your smile dropped and furrowed his eyebrows in concern.

“I saw her kissing you,” you said, in a makeshift stern voice. Zeke’s frown deepened.

“What?”

“Yelena. I saw you kissing Yelena last night when she left your house,” you said, the pressure on your chest making it hard to talk. You took a deep breath, trying to alleviate it.

“Wait, wait, last night? Where were you?” he asked, confused.

“I— a few houses away. I wanted to say hi but I saw her and— I saw you two kissing, Zeke, aren't you going to say anything?” you demanded, your voice breaking at the end.

“Baby, I was confused as to why you were saying this because we didn’t kiss. I have never kissed Yelena in my life.”

“Zeke, I saw you,” you said in a pained voice. “I fucking saw you and—”

“Wait, was that why you called?” he interrupted you. “I’m sorry, baby, I really am. I’m just having trouble understanding because we never kissed. The closest thing to that happening was Yelena kissing my cheek goodnight and that’s it.”

“But I—”

“You just said you were a couple of houses away. Don’t you think you could have confused a friendly kiss on the cheek with her kissing my lips? As if I would ever let her,” Zeke said, taking a sip of his juice. “She knows how much I’m in love with you. Hell, I’ve even told her how I plan to marry you once you graduate.”

You felt your cheeks heating at his words and then immediately shook your head, trying to focus.

“Porco saw you too.”

At this, Zeke’s calm expression turned into a disgusted one.

“Baby, please,” he sighed, rolling his eyes. “Porco will say anything to get you away from me. You know he’s in love with you, right?” he asked. You averted his gaze, looking down at your sandwich. “He’s so obvious about it. He’ll say anything to make you doubt your relationship with me enough for him to get a chance. Bet he kept insisting on you leaving me after you mistakenly believed Yelena kissed me last night.”

Memories of Porco’s arms around your body and his hazel eyes looking at you as he kissed your palm crept inside your head, guilt leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Zeke was right. You were a few houses apart and all you had seen was her kissing the corner of his mouth, never a full kiss on the lips. And on top of that, you had been drinking a lot. There was a big chance you had perceived the moment differently and… Porco had definitely egged you on your distrust.

“You did nothing wrong,” Zeke assured you, taking one of your hands in his. “You trust people too much, you’re too good. But please don’t believe Porco’s intentions are innocent in any way.”

You nodded, keeping your head down. At this, Zeke scooted over to your side, grabbing your face gently and kissing your forehead. You smiled at his action and lifted your face until your lips met. A chaste kiss was exchanged, making the both of you smile.

“I’m sorry for… insisting on this but can I ask you something else about last night?” you asked in a small voice.

Zeke nodded. “Sure, anything that will make you feel better.”

“Why was Yelena with you last night? Why did she leave so late?”

“Yelena was going through a rough time, stuff with her family and the fact she likes girls,” Zeke explained, biting down on his sandwich. “Her family is very religious so it’s… a touchy subject. She needed to talk and we did just that— talk until she was feeling better.”

You nodded, still with a small frown on your face.

“But I asked you, I— I called you and I asked if the movies were fun by yourself.”

“And I told you I always preferred watching movies alone,” Zeke reminded you. “I didn’t lie, I really do. I’ve told you this before. Besides, I didn’t just want to air out her business. It was private for a reason.”

“But her Instagram—”

“Darling, don’t mind her. Please, as far as I know, she could have made that post in case her family saw it. She’s not even out on campus, so… I don’t know,” he shrugged. “But don’t think about it too hard. She’s my friend but trust me when I say she’s not worth your time.”

You felt stupid. So damn stupid for ever believing Zeke was cheating on you. All of Yelena’s Instagram photos made so much sense now that you knew she was trying to present herself as straight. Surely you would have preferred her to use any other guy than your boyfriend but… it just made sense. Since Zeke was the only one that knew about her sexuality, she made sure not to foolishly lead him on since he knew it was all a charade.

And the fact Zeke wasn’t asking about Porco— God, you didn’t deserve him. You had just admitted to being outside with Porco at three in the morning and he hadn’t batted an eye. He didn’t need proof or to interrogate you to trust you would never cheat on him.

“Stop worrying your pretty head around it. We’re good, okay?” he assured you, nudging your shoulder playfully. “Let's just forget about this whole thing, okay?”

“Okay,” you smiled.

Zeke took one last bite of his sandwich, shaking his hands to get rid of the crumbs. He scooted until his back was against the tree and pulled you by your wrist, content in how you were giggling as he set you between his legs, with your back on his chest.

“Thank you for meeting me this early without notice. When I found Ksaver’s baseball I just knew I wanted to share that moment with you,” he said, resting his chin on your shoulder and putting his arms around your waist. “I’m so weak when it comes to… remembering things from my past. But I know I can always count on you. You’re so much stronger than I am. Always have been.”

Your mind went back to Porco pushing you away after you tried to kiss him just a few hours ago.

“I don’t know about that,” you whispered.

“But you are. And that’s one of the reasons I’m so in love with you,” he smiled, pressing a kiss on your shoulder. “One of the reasons I plan to ask you to marry me as soon as you graduate. We’re stronger together, remember?”

Your heart fluttered at his words.

“Yes,” you nodded with a soft smile .”We are.”

[fullscoreshenanigans]

#isn’t there a shirai note somewhere that says that ray loves fantasy stories even though he dislikes studying? #it’s wonderful that ray gets to live one of the stories he loved but thought he could never obtain #and that’s also a huge burden—that story #but it’s his life too #not just emma’s or norman’s #and he doesn’t have to live it alone (via @esthelle18​)

One of the thing that I realised is that, by the end of the story, with Emma's sacrifice, Ray is the only one who can tell and remember the entirety of Emma's story and the complete story of the promised neverland (and even he can't tell the the story about how her meeting with Him went).

Norman wasn't there for 3 years. The other Gracefield children were not here for Goldy Pond,Nne of the other were here for the weird world of imagination they went in.

I don't know why but it feels significant considering that he never intended to see and live through all of that and now he is the only one alive being able to remember all of it

[chaeiimimi]

02 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖔 𝖇𝖆𝖇𝖞

Summary: you weren’t really sure how it happened, but an average student who wore glasses and spent all her extra time on bookstores and library managed to date your school’s volleyball club setter. On your 3rd year of law school, your ten years anniversary to be exact, he went home from Argentina and it was a week before he was going back, he broke up with you with the reason of he can’t handle long-distance relationship anymore despite being at it for two years. You didn’t cry, you stood there as he was sobbing in front of you, you held his face in your palms and offered him a gentle smile, gentle enough to let him know you’ll support him and will always be watching him, together with the child in your stomach right now, but he doesn’t need to know that.

chapters: prev//next

after feeding Hayato, you spent the whole morning preparing for your afternoon picnic with the boys, cooking up food, cleaning the house and preparing the picnic basket, it was your day off

by afternoon, Akira called you during their stopover saying she wants you to pick her up tomorrow morning which you agreed to do

it was a well-spent afternoon, you walked to the park, pushing twin stroller. 

you set up the picnic blanket and the food as you laid the twins on the blanket and almost immediately they crawled around the cloth giggling at each other while you indulge in a new book, a sandwich and an iced coffee

the neighborhood teenagers played with your sons (with your permission ofc) cooing at how adorable they were

you spent a good four hours in the park, it was already getting dark when you decided to go home, you kept your stuff and journeyed back home , dropping by the grocery store in front of your place to stock up on your food and your babies’ food 

the store was owned by two lovely old couple who were always happy with having you come by, they would give you coupons for baby food and offer to take care of the boys as you shop, it wasn’t only the elderly couple who loved the boys, your landlady who got divorced the same year you gave birth to your kids also loved them and brought fruits for you during her visits, the couple and their three-year-old son next door loved inviting you every so often, the lovely flower shop owner down the streets gave you flowers on mother’s day when she saw you were pregnant even the Thai food restaurant owner and his daughter loved giving you discounts on takeout with the promise of bringing the twins with you the next time you come visit

you were truly blessed to have such an amazing and friendly neighborhood 

when you arrived home, you quickly put the groceries to their rightful places, gave the twins a bath and tuck them in and then finally eating dinner

you were now standing in front of the airport, waiting for your best friend to arrive, you left the twins in the care of your parents

“besstiieeee” the shrill voice of your bestfriend invaded your ears as she ran towards you and gave you a tight embrace which you reciprocated

damn you missed this woman so much

“oh my gosh I missed you, you crazy woman” you rolled your eyes at her but there was a happy smile on your face

“where’s your hotel? let’s take your stuff there” you suggested

“oh no don’t worry about that, my assistant already took care of that”

sometimes you forget that your best friend was now a world-renowned photographer 

you nodded silently 

“let’s go shopping for clothes to wear tomorrow” she squeals enthusiastically

“oh yea sure i’ll accompany you, I have clothes at home-”

“oh no girl, we are glamming you up” you looked at her with a deadpanned expression

“what? i haven’t seen you glammed up, since- i don’t know High School Prom? pleaaassseeee” and then she hits you with her puppy dog eyes 

you just sighed knowing you were in for a shopping spree that lasts for an eternity 

“Asahi-san” 

you tilted your head in confusion as you walked in a fashion store owned by  Karasuno’s ace?

“hello to you Akira” he said in a gentle voice 

the first time you talked to him you were actually shocked at how gentle his voice is, he always seemed so...intimidating?

“can you pick an outfit for my best friend? we’re attending a high school reunion” 

he looks at you and offered you a small smile 

“alright, this way ladies”

you were now standing in front of the venue, wearing a tight gray dress with a white long sleeve kind of see through material underneath and some black heels (this) while Akira stood beside you in her pretty red velvet dress

your heart was thumping really hard against your chest, it felt like it was about to break your ribcage, you wanted to back out right then and there 

“let’s go?” Akira asked patting your shoulders as you nodded nervously 

you entered the venue and saw a lot of familiar faces, you were not very friendly during high school and you were either known as “Oikawa’s girlfriend” or “Akira’s bestfriend” 

but you did greet the people who greeted you and exchanged smiles with some people often

you even met Kyotani, Yahaba, Kindaichi and Kunimi at the bar as they greeted you and Akira 

you gave them a “good evening” and a smile

unlike you, Akira was a sociable person, that’s why you were left in a table alone while she greets her old friends, you even had to assure her that you were fine

“Y/n” you turn your head to the direction of the familiar voice

“Iwa” you smiled at the former ace 

“it’s been so long, how are you?” he asks as he sits on the chair beside you

“I’ve been good” you smiled 

there was silence for a while when he suddenly spoke up

“how are they?” he asks 

“they grew up healthy and happy” you tensed up a little bit

“did you receive my six-month gift?” he asks and you chuckled

“yes Iwa, the stroller was very convenient, thank you” you gave him a smile 

“are you planning on telling him?” he asks

you gave him a sad smile

“being in the same industry, you know fully well that now’s not the right time” 

he nods at you silently, yes he knows, but he can’t help but feel sad for his bestfriend, he was missing out on a lot, he also can’t help but feel sorry for you, you were only in your mid twenties yet you are carrying such a heavy burden

raising a child isn’t easy, let alone raising twins, parenting and finance are no where near easy tasks

“iwa-chan you-”

that moment, your breathe hitched, the pounding of your heart muffled the music blasting, your throat started to tighten and there were tears ready to form at the back of your eyes

you wanted to run to him, hug him tightly, tell him everything you’ve been going through since he left, tell him about his sons and how they resembled him so much

but you were stuck in your seat 

“hey”

“hey” 

still kind of surprised that some people liked this story tysm <3, you can send me a dm or an ask if you guys want a tag on every chapter update, I’m also open in accepting requests

Reblogs and comments are appreciated😊💖

[thespoonisvictory]

I posted 5,874 times in 2022

1,359 posts created (23%)

4,515 posts reblogged (77%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@firesnap

@thespoonisvictory

@surreal-static

@geoguessbur

@snailsnfriends

I tagged 3,314 of my posts in 2022

Only 44% of my posts had no tags

#asks - 426 posts

#d20 - 182 posts

#acofaf - 168 posts

#fav - 127 posts

#exu:c - 54 posts

#critical - 50 posts

#spoon rambles - 39 posts

#prev - 34 posts

#^^^ - 31 posts

#neverafter - 30 posts

Longest Tag: 140 characters

#like yes niki enjoys a good drawn out seagull eating bit and phil will do unhinged tts but who else would rp being stuck in a public library

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

ok fine I’ll say it. a good portion of dsmp streamers don’t care about the story and maybe arguably they never understood the enormity of what certain people on that server were trying to create, the integrity they were trying to maintain in it. they see clicks, engagement, and an endlessly appeased fanbase that will accept infinite promises and excuses, and as long as you still click on that stream they aren’t going to care. the farthest a good half of them got was “this seems cool” and then they streamed it and we took that and wrote fun analysis and did fanart. and as long as we all know that and accept that george and sapnap do not care or even understand why tommy’s house is so important, that’s fine. as long as we get that certain streamers only bring it up to promote merch and others only bring it up to pull attention back, and we agree to watch anyway because it’s fun, that’s fine.

but it breaks my heart seeing fans confused and heartbroken because they have to keep realizing that the vast majority of these guys don’t care about this server in that way anymore

1,528 notes - Posted June 27, 2022

#4

the manburg arc being set during the transition from fall to winter like ok you hadestown over the garden wall bitch you really thought of everything didn’t you

1,850 notes - Posted April 26, 2022

#3

I enjoy period accurate costuming but people who get mad at inaccurate but absolutely intentional choices in period pieces drive me up the wall

2,773 notes - Posted April 2, 2022

#2

the new minecraft lore is like:

there are no mobs in the cities. something is stopping them; something is either killing them or maybe even they know not to venture down there, that it’s too dangerous.

but down there, there are candles. there are wool pathways. there are redstone lamps. whatever civilization lived down there was smart, much more advanced than villagers. they had thick walls, and figured out that wool kept Wardens away, and made enchantments to allow them to run quickly and quietly. they had nether blocks, basalt and soul fire, and their buildings nearly resemble nether fortresses, or bastions. there were whole communities that thrived in spite of the threat, until they didn’t, of course. 

did they live in fear of the Warden? if so, why didn’t they leave? could they leave? did they try to make a portal to do just that? their cities are intricate and their floors are lined with wool that children could run across and stumble over without worry and did they whisper, constantly? did they teach children legends of the beasts that would come if they didn’t quiet down? did the children believe them? did they make candles on holidays and dare each other to set the skulk sensors off with small dripstone pieces? did they keep bees, or did they ration their wax carefully, trying to learn the secrets of redstone and soul fire to keep their lanterns burning before they ran out? how far did they get in their knowledge? why didn’t they leave? what were they staying for, what were they trying to find with that portal? 

why didn’t they leave?

5,025 notes - Posted February 18, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I just. maybe I should be mad but I’m not. Wilbur Soot is a cunt and this was a story about suicide and blue sheep and sunrises and utah and I love that he took a deliberate move to make it campy and insane and like all of the most memorable bits from this stupid server it is full of heart! his mom is a fridge! he fucked a salmon! tragedy and grief render everything around them obscene and hilarious and the fact that this story ended in such a silly way is the ultimate fuck you to c!wilbur’s mindset that he is some ultimate dramatic evil. the world is ridiculous! you have to forgive yourself! suck it green boy! 

7,567 notes - Posted September 3, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

[tooruluv]

Tooru Oikawa x F!Reader ( part 9 )

❝ my love for him is much like winter, a skeleton for the world to see. too bad he never liked the cold. ❞

description: being the neighbor and lifelong best friend of tooru oikawa definitely had it’s perks. you were never an outcast, always had a seat at lunch, got into volleyball games for free. the problem was, however, that being in love with him outweighed those perks. you would never tell him that, though, even if it hurt like hell.

genre: best friends to lovers, angst, unrequited love, fluff if you squint hard enough

word count: 1,442

warnings/notes: i was able to be online for a bit so i wanted to release this (rather short) filler chapter for you guys! <3

tag list: @afuckingunicornn​​​​​​ @maii-flowers​​​​​​ @clandestinerays​​​​​​ @brownandchill​​​​​​ @readeretal​​​​​​ @wedojustbevibin​​​​​​ @shigarakiskitten​​​​​​ @shittykawaa​​​​​​ @saeranoppa​​​​​ @srirachibi​​​​​ @tpwkatsumu​​​​ @sempiternal-amour​​​​ @bokutos-h0e​​​​ @pinknugget​​​​ @intheawks​​​​ @tori218​ @seikamuzu​ @alexthe80swhore​

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You skipped school for a week. It was a full week of heartache; most of which included the following: watching new shows (and finishing them), being brought food by your very understanding mother, crying, taking very long baths, wallowing in self-pity (which is something you tried not to do, but ended up doing anyway), crying until you were dehydrated, and ignoring texts and calls.

A new week was starting when your mom walked into your room, interrupting your daily “stare at the ceiling in sadness”. She sat on the end of your bed by your feet when she said, “It’s time for you to return to life.”

“What if I don’t want to?”

“Sweetheart, I get it.” She placed a hand on your ankle, trying to pull your attention to her. You kept your eyes on the ceiling. “Trust me, I do. But you can’t continue to isolate yourself from life. You have a beautiful, bright future in front of you. Exams are coming up, and your friends miss you.”

You sighed. “I guess I’ll go.”

“Good! Quite frankly, I’m tired of lying to your friends. Did you know that Iwaizumi resorted to texting me every day?” Your mom stood up, sending you a smile when you followed suit. “Clean your room. I’ll drive you to school tomorrow.”

You agreed, staring at the empty water bottles next to your bed.

Out of the hundreds of texts and missed calls, you decided to text Iwaizumi back first. He was the one who you’ve known the longest (other than the other boy you shall not name) and had helped you through your Love Problems.

you: hey. i’m ok. pls tell me that you’ll be at school tomorrow

iwa <3: fuck dude

iwa <3: you scared the shit out of me i deadass texted your fucking mom

iwa <3: i will be at school tomorrow the question is will you

you: yeah i’m coming. didn’t wanna be alone

iwa <3: you’ll never be alone darling

Despite everything telling you not to, you got up that Monday morning for school. You cleaned your room, you showered, you got a good night’s rest. You even ate breakfast. Yet, you still felt like… well, shit.

Your mother drove you to school, sending you a small smile and wave of encouragement like it was your first day of kindergarten and you were scared to go in. Truth was, you wanted to throw up all over the front doors and go straight back into your bedroom and watch another Gordon Ramsay compilation on youtube.

You sighed and went into Hell (hell being school). You tried to act as normal as possible but it was evident that everyone in the entire school hadn’t moved on from the whole thing, eyes staring at you and inaudible whispers.

“Great.” You mumbled to yourself, whipping your locker open.

It was at that moment that Tooru Oikawa made his appearance. He was walking next to Hanamaki, talking among themselves, when Oikawa stopped dead in his tracks. Hanamaki gave him a small pat on his back before leaving (and effectively leaving the awkward situation that would inevitably happen).

He opened his locker beside you.

“Hi!” He greeted, as though it was the most normal and casual thing ever. “You’re feeling better? Your mom said that…”

You didn’t acknowledge him, closing your locker and walking to class. Maybe you’ll find Iwaizumi before class…

“Whoa. Wait!” Oikawa was walking beside you then, easily catching up to you. “Did you get any of my texts?”

You spun on your heels, finally facing him after a week of being MIA and trying to forget your love for him. He swallowed and stared back at you.

“I don’t know what you want me to do.” You shrugged. “I told you that I needed time. And by that, I mean I need time away from you specifically. I’m not going to entertain the idea of pretending that nothing happened between us because it did.”

Oikawa blinked, nodding. “Okay, okay. Yes.” He purposefully took a step back, literally giving you space. “But can I ask one thing? Just one?”

“Go ahead.”

“For how long?” He asked. “How long do you think it’ll take for you to talk to me again?”

“I don’t know. Maybe when the school stops staring at me like a wounded puppy.”

“I’ve missed you!” Sana brought you into a hug, her boobs straight into your face. “I seriously thought that you dropped off of the face of the earth.”

You let a small smile creep onto your lips. The first smile in a while. “Sorry.”

“Don’t you dare apologize. What even happened?”

“That’s a story for later.”

She linked her arm with yours before walking with you to the library. Iwaizumi and Matsukawa sat at the usual table, heads in books like their life depended on it. It wasn’t until you were nearly next to them that they realized you were there. You hadn’t been able to see Iwaizumi all day.

“Oh my god, she’s really here.” Matsukawa exclaimed, a bit too loud for a library. 

Iwaizumi got up from his seat (also very loudly, a squeak from the chair on the floor). He immediately pulled you into a hug, picking you up and putting his head into your shoulder.

“Shittykawa told me what happened.” He mumbled into your neck. You bit the inside of your lip and wrapped your arms around his waist. “I’m not going to ask if you’re okay, but I do want you to know that I know.”

“You always know.” You mumbled back.

Hajime Iwaizumi was walking with Issei Matsukawa when he caught Oikawa leaving your house. He knew immediately that something had happened, that something wasn’t quite right, because Oikawa had his head down. He never had his head down.

Iwaizumi turned to his boyfriend, telling him “I’ll be right back.” Matsukawa gave him a kiss on the wrist before letting him run off.

“Hey man,” Iwaizumi jogged to his best friend. Oikawa stopped, head still at his feet. “Hey. What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

“Oikawa.” Iwaizumi stood in front of him, cutting him off. “Don’t bullshit me. What’s going on? What happened?”

When Oikawa didn’t answer, Iwaizumi put his arms on his shoulders to bring his head up. Oikawa was red-faced, tears running down his cheeks. He was in pain.

“I, um.” Oikawa looked back and forth, never really meeting Iwaizumi’s eyes. “I told her that I’m in love with her. We kissed and I told her that I love her.”

“Oh?” That’s a good thing… right?

“She shut the door in my face. She said that she “thought that she was in love with me too”. And just shut the door.”

“Oh.”

“What if we got married?” Oikawa once asked you, a giggling child in the morning sun.

You both laid in your backyard, the grass long and bugs flew along your heads. You didn’t care. You giggled back to him.

“That’s gross! You have cooties!”

“Not if we’re married I don’t!” Oikawa stuck his tongue out at you.

“We’re too young to get married! We have to at least be old… like 20 years old!”

“Ew!”

You laid like that, giggling and laughing as kids, until your mom called you in for lunch. Oikawa ran to the door (“last one there is a rotten egg!”).

tetsurou kuroo :P: i heard that you’ve finally left the darkness and stepped back into regular life

tetsurou kuroo :P: hajime texted me sorry if that sounded like i’m stalking you.

tetsurou kuroo :P: unless you’re into that... then i’m totally stalking you...

tetsurou kuroo :P: PLS IM KIDDING anyway can i come over today. i have another hoodie for you.

you: you’re cute. i miss you too.

You walked home alone that night. After a while of isolation, human interaction actually seemed like a chore. You just wanted to be alone, even if it was just for a few minutes as you walk.

You heard walking behind you.

“You can walk next to me.” You said, knowing exactly who it was. “I know you don’t have practice on Mondays.”

Tooru Oikawa appeared next to you in only a few seconds, jumping at the offer. The roles were reversed now.

“I don’t want to overstep boundaries.” He said.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry, again. For kissing you.”

“I know.”

He stared at you instead of the sidewalk ahead. You kept your eyes on the sky.

“I’m sorry for telling you that I love you, too.”

“Don’t be sorry about that.” You stepped onto your porch where Kuroo stood, waiting for you. “That was the one thing you did right.”