#‘there’s no guarantee I won’t stand against u again’

[sueske]

vote2 is filled with iconic lines like 'cuz I'm ur one and only', 'I hurt when you hurt', 'shut up usuratonkachi' etc. but smth that I haven't seen ppl put that much focus on is this bit right here:

"there's no guarantee I won't stand against you again" - because yes. look at what happened to both of them but look at what happened to sasuke. the world was so unforgivingly and unbearably cruel to him, the circumstances and manipulations and decisions that led him to vote2, that led him to stand against naruto in the first place. who is to say that the world won't be cruel once more? and as sasuke said prior, just cuz naruto wants to cooperate with everyone including sasuke that doesn't mean everyone will agree to it, naruto's path won't be an easy one. so who is to say that their paths won't lead them back to where they started? but naruto reassures him. that even if it comes down to it again, naruto will still be someone that can bear the burden of sasuke's hatred, that won't give up on him no matter what. that will work with him, always, never against him, the one and only person that can do that. and naruto's unwavering faith in his feelings for sasuke make sasuke pause because how can naruto be so sure? 

and then naruto says this:

"don't make me repeat myself! do you still not understand?" because naruto hurts when sasuke hurts, and would bear the burden of his hatred and live together with him, because he doesn't want to see sasuke in the painful clutches of loneliness. because naruto knows his heart. because naruto would do anything to prevent harm and pain from coming sasuke's way. no matter what the world throws at them, no matter what the world throws at sasuke, naruto will be steadfast and resolute. they balance each other out. and I also feel Kishimoto was using naruto as a vehicle here to voice aloud his own thoughts to the readers: do you still not understand what naruto feels for sasuke? what they feel for each other? how many times do I need to repeat they're not brothers? that the standard definition of the word friend does not apply to them, that it's something more? 

and then the emotional catharsis that sasuke gets from accepting the feelings between them, the promise of a future together ahead, hand in... metaphorical hand.

[haechoxo]

[11:11 pm]

the party had died down soon after you had left with jisung carrying you to chenle’s car. most of the people who stuck around were just adjacent to the group, though none of them had the misfortune of having to hear what just went down between you and haechan.

mark and renjun, however, weren't so lucky.

“you’re fucking stupid.” mark was seething.

“what?”

“all that you went through with y/n and yet you threw it all away for what? minjeong?” he was glaring daggers at him now, the roles eerily reversed, but haechan only scoffed,

“what’s minjeong got to do with this? she didn’t do anything.” he rolled his eyes, only pissing off mark even more.

“you’ve been chasing after her, pining, since high school, bro. you might think she’s interested, but i can guarantee you, she is not.” nothing was getting through to him, no matter how angry mark could possibly get at a person, “she’s always backed off because of y/n, much like how you always scared off any guys that even went as close as looked at y/n.” this caught haechan’s attention.

“i never scared off any guys that approached y/n! bullshit, mark.” haechan was getting defensive, denial. it was mark’s turn to scoff this time.

“really? so when yeonjun started showing interest in her, you just conveniently decided that then of all times was the perfect opportunity to start carpooling everywhere? or what about when jisung had his little schoolboy crush on her? or maybe, i don’t know, the very mention of me five minutes ago when you argued with her outside? don’t think i don’t notice you staring every time i’m around her.” mark isn’t one to be trifled with when he’s pissed off, hardly ever letting his emotions get the better of him, but seeing those closest to him get hurt flips a switch in his system.

his voice was low as he stalked closer to haechan, “i’m not afraid of you, donghyuck, and neither is renjun. your only competition is your fucking ego, and you’re blowing it. not only are you hurting y/n, you’re hurting yourself, dumbass move on your part, get your shit together, hyuck, before renjun and i actually get involved.” he wouldn’t stand a chance against an angry mark, let alone mark and renjun, who’s been lingering nearby having heard his previous conversation with you before your departure. but haechan would never admit his wrongs, especially not to mark, of all people right now.

“get involved with what? you’re threatening me now?” haechan scoffs, getting closer to mark’s face, shoving a finger to his chest, “you’re both full of shit.” his eyes dart between mark and renjun, before renjun steps between them, any closer and mark would’ve swung.

“donghyuck. figure your shit out, or you won’t see y/n at all anymore, we can and will make sure of it.”

haechan can’t believe the shit he’s hearing right now, first mark, now renjun?

“you don’t mean that, what authority do you have over me? her best friend.”

mark’s had it, “best friends don’t fuck for three years straight and get in the way of personal affairs, just for you to ghost her anyway! and for what? are you jealous? insecure? or just plain fucking stupid. you used her, donghyuck. you made it very clear where you stand now.”

“if she wanted me so bad, why didn’t she do anything about it, huh? she could have reached out.” he was too stubborn for his own good, but it was too late to take it back now.

“get the fuck out,” he didn’t even have a second to process being shoved out of the house by mark, renjun in tow, “we’re done with your shit, haechan.”

“don’t bother showing up here again.”

previous - bonus

a/n ; i have no words this time lolz, lmk what u think, i hope this chapter is living up to ur expectations LMFAOO i couldn’t stop giggling writing it, advice is appreciated! xoxo jelly

[erodasfishtacos]

I fucking love mlb!harry and ceo!harry

Ur so talented

Erm i had an idea (pls feel free to ignore, i know u hv a busy schedule and life outside of tumblr) but what if mlb!harry played badly in a game (or less than how he expected he wld perform) and y/n makes him feel better

Or

Ceo!harry loses an important deal and y/n makes him feel better

CRAMP

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warnings: smut; 18 +

YN knew it wasn’t going to be a fun time when Harry came home that night.

All four babies were fast asleep in their respective rooms and she was lounging on the couch, some cooking show on after she watched her husband play a rough game on ESPN.

He got hit with a fastball to his calf during the second inning and after that, his performance went downhill and he couldn’t get back on track.

He threw three homeruns and only made a few mediocre hits, trying to ignore the shooting pain in his lower leg.

In a typical Harry move, he refused to do the end of game handshakes with the opposing team and stormed off the field.

An interviewer chasing after him to ask him a question and Harry give her a dirty look before muttering, “Get away from me. I’m not answerin’ any questions,” before he disappears down the stairs.

YN knew just the thing that will cheer him up.

-

Harry trecks into the house with heavy feet and tense shoulders, his eyes are tired and frustrated as he drops his duffle on the ground carelessly.

“Hi,” YN murmurs when he steps into the living room, she was all curled up in a fluffy blanket with a surprise underneath.

“Hi,” He says back blandly, the frown unmoving from his face - almost like a pouty little kid.

“Can you come rub m’back?” She asks, feeling herself dampen a little bit with the excitement of what’s to come.

Harry scoffs, obviously in a sour mood, “I just finished a game, walked in the door, and tha’s the first thing I get is a demand?”

“Okay? And I just dealt with all four of your babies all day today. Ezra refused to be put down for more than five minutes straight,” She tries to bite down the smile, she shouldn’t find it funny when her husband’s bent out of shape.

That makes him melt a bit though, voice soften minutely, “Were the babies good today?”

“I’ll tell you about it after you rub my back.”

Harry grumbles, kicking off his trainers with a irritated edge, and heavy-footed as he makes his way to the couch.

“Take off the blanket and move on y’belly then,” He mutters, eyes boring into hers without reflecting the amusement that she has - if he was in a better mood he would have helped her along.

When she slips off the blanket and quickly moves on her stomach, burying her face in her arms when she hears him sucks in a breath.

“Wha’ are y’naked?” Harry demands, obviously trying to stay irritated because he deserved it for having such a shitty game.

YN makes sure her voice sounds airy and coy, “Just got hot is all.”

“S’fuckin’ freezin’ in here,” He rebukes but sits on the side of the couch with only a little room on the edge - his large hand coming to massage at her back muscles.

“Mmm,” She agrees noncommittally, feeling Harry’s hand wander curiously, further down her back to the lower curve before her bum.

“Y’trying to cheer m’up with sex,” Harry accuses, bent out of shape because he just wants to sulk in his poor performance but also he has the most beautiful woman in the world in front of him - bare and wet for him.

“I didn’t offer sex,” YN smirks, her husband falls into her to tricks every fucking time, no matter how much of bad mood he’s in.

Harry’s voice gets lower, more dangerous and gravely, “No? Just flashin’ y’ass at me for fun now? Decided for absolutely no reason to be waiting for m’to come home naked?”

“No reason at all,” She agrees, excitement building when his gentle massage turns rougher, hands kneading a little deeper into her muscles.

He shakes his head, eyes glued onto her backside where her cheeks are round and hiding what he really wants to see, “So if I dip m’fingers down between y’pretty thighs, your cunt won’t be soaking f’me?”

Harry’s skin prickles when his wife lets out a feathery, delicate moan at his words, he’s desperately trying to hold onto all of his negative feelings but he’s struggling because of the beauty that’s squirmy underneath him.

“Dry as the Sahara.”

It makes Harry finally break a little, letting out a belly laugh, and smacking her bum hard enough to make her squeak in delight.

His fingers travel down between her puffy folds, slipping into the heavenly heat of her where she is soaking his fingers.

In a filthy move, he pulls them back up and rubs them on his wife’s lips, “If y’not wet than what’s on y’lips, darlin’?”

Harry’s cock twitches when she lets out a quiet whine, pink tongue tracing her bottom lip before she laps at her husband’s thick fingers.

“Fuck,” He grunts, pressing down on her tongue,“Y’gonna let m’hit it from behind?”

When she can speak, she shakes her head, “No, want it on m’back.”

“Spoiled thing,” He murmurs, giving her one more smack before helping her flip back over, “Supposed t’be all about me, not you.”

YN’s eyes are sparkling, hand coming to tug lightly at his locks and pull him down into a kiss, her other hand wriggling his shorts down.

“All I had to do was take m’clothes off, didn’t even have to ask for it,” She giggles sweetly, teasingly, “Doesn’t matter what mood you’re in, always want to give it to me.”

“Best I’ve ever had, mama,” Harry replies against her lips, mumbled a bit as she grips him and leads him right to where she needs him most.

“Only one you ever had, only one you ever will have,” YN remarks confidently before throwing her head back when he bottoms out.

“Y’so fuckin’ hot when you’re possessive. You already know y’own me, darling. I bought you this big ole’ house, got four of m’babies sleepin’ upstairs, and got y’under me every night. I’m fucking yours. I have been since we met.”

“Harder, H,” She demands, nails digging into his strong shoulders as he fucks into her at a steady pace.

“Be quiet, let m’do it how I want,” He chides, keeping a slow but hard rhythm as he ducks down the suck at the hard peaks of her breasts before grazing them with his teeth.

“Do it how I want,” YN moans with an arrogant tone, it just drops with how confident she is that her husband is whipped for her. (He is).

But he’s already in a less than great mood so it has him flipping her, putting her onto all four as he wants, and slamming back in.

“We’re gonna do it ‘ow I want it,” He grunts in her ear, his hand gripping her cheek roughly enough to dimple and his other wrapping in her messy hair, “Y’absolutely soakin’ me, pet.”

“Oooh, fuck!” YN hisses but it doesn’t sound like a normal moan from her - Harry knows every sound his wife is able to make.

“Mama? Y’alright?” Harry checks, slowing down but not completely losing momentum as he loosens his grip on her hair.

“Cramp, I’m cramping. Want it on m’back,” YN whines, trying to shake out her leg and Harry obliges, helping her back down to their original position.

Again, Harry isn’t stupid.

As soon as she is back where she’s moaning lowly and with an airy hitch as she goes to pinch at one of her nipples.

“Y’such a spoiled brat,” Harry shakes his head in disbelief, “Y’didnt have a leg cramp, y’just wanted to be a pillow princess.”

“Lies,” YN giggles, eyes bright and happy as she peers up at her husband who is looking down a her like she hung the fucking moon and stars.

No one would ever be able to convince him that she didn’t.

“M’the one who had the shit day. I’ve just spoiled you so fuckin’ rotten tha’ y’just a desperate slut,” He laughs meanly but it sends a full body zip of electricity through his wife and he knows it.

“Harry,” She chokes out, gripping his biceps hard.

“Hands to yourself,” He snaps, taking her hands and pinning them above her head with just one of his hands.

The other comes down and lands a smack right on her puffy folds, once..twice…three times before YN is coming on him.

“Easy f’me,” Harry hums with satisfaction, leaning down to kiss her moans quiet as he fucks in hard a handful on times before he’s filling her up, “There y’go, hm? Marking y’up as mine, all full of me.”

“Yeah, baby,” YN agrees dazed, dated as he comes to a halt as he softens and pulls out - wiping her down with his shirt as she whines, “Sensitive.”

“M’sorry, mama,” Her husband apologizes, trying to be careful around her nerves.

After, they lay on the couch - talking about their day until Briar’s monitor lights up from the side table with high pitched cries.

“Mama, mama, daddy,” The thirteen month old sobs as she sits up in her crib - unable to find her binky in the dark.

“I’ll go get the bub,” Harry offers, sitting up and tugging his briefs and shorts back on.

“Okay, she missed you a lot today. I’m going to go shower.”

-

When Harry steps into the room, Briar is looking expectantly at the door and her eyes widen when she spots her father.

“Daddy, dadada,” She babbles happily, standing up to clutch the railing of her crib with anticipation.

“Oh, there’s m’lil mama. Hi darling,” Harry coos softly, gathering her up into his arms and taking a step over to the rocking chair.

He pops her pacifier back between her lips and she looks up at him with heavy-lids, it doesn’t take long before her blinks get longer until her eyes shut close.

Harry doesn’t know what he did to deserve such an amazing life but he was sure fucking grateful.

[wonlouvre]

pairing: non-idol!mingyu x non-idol!female oc genre: fluff just because we love it word count: 2.9k+ WARNINGS: none! (pls tell me if i missed anything!)

Kim Mingyu is always caring and always loving. 💌: it’s true... kim mingyu has found his way to my heart. lol just kidding! it’s the vlog and ugh!!!! he’s so soft, sexy and domestic (don’t u dare disagree with me) and i had to talk about it!!! PLS SEND THIS SOME LOVIN <3 thank you!

1. Finding excuses to touch each other in little ways

Mingyu always gravitates towards you whenever your circle of friends get together. He seems to always find a way to be right beside you, regardless if the space is too small for his tall build. It doesn’t matter if you're sitting on a single seat sofa, the arm rest is plenty comfortable to lounge on (it’s not). And when you’re chatting with your friends other than him? He will just stand where you are, also listening (as if you don’t have enough ears already).

But more than that, you think it’s him finding excuses to touch you. It’s not necessarily the bold hand holding type or resting his arm around your waist kind of touching. It’s more on the subtle grazing of his knuckles against yours, shoulders bumping or his arms on the backrest, warming the back of your neck (when you’re finally on a big couch). 

It’s a little suspicious because you and Mingyu never established anything about crossing the boundaries of your friendship. In fact, it’s not only until recently that you started sending text messages other than the time and location of your meetup. You’ve known him for a short while. You met him through a mutual friend and that was it. You became part of their circle, him with yours. You now share text messages of what time you get off of work or what you are having for dinner. You even talk about the current drama you’re watching until midnight even though you’re already tired and could pass out anytime soon. 

You honestly don’t know how it all started, but you’re not complaining. At all.

You’re not complaining whether it be him excitedly running to you once you arrive or patiently waiting until the person sitting next to you leaves and slowly fills the vacancy. You also don’t mind when he removes the stray strand of hair you didn’t notice while you’re talking and puts it behind your ear. You’re also not uncomfortable when his gaze lingers to your face when he thinks you don’t notice. 

You’re no different anyway.

Your fingers always absent-mindedly find their way to the soft fabric of his shirt whenever he walks ahead of you. Sometimes, your hand rests a little longer on the back of his neck when he leans the other way to answer one of your friend’s questions while you speak to the one on your side. The bravest display of affection you have ever done was not only rubbing your hand against his back but slipping it underneath his sweatshirt where you could feel his bare skin and taut muscles because he said he was cold.

That was the first among many. 

Eventually, you start grasping Mingyu’s hand when he offers it whenever you’re walking to the restaurant, park, cafe or the parking lot without the need to look behind you . He just holds them out, trusting that you’ll take it. You actually do. Every single time. You don’t see it, but it puts a wide grin on his face.

2. Slowly becoming more comfortable with each other

It was a long tiring day at work but you couldn’t say no to Minghao’s birthday dinner invitation. He’s the mutual friend that led you to meeting Mingyu and aside from the long history the two of you share, you are grateful for him bridging you and Mingyu. Plus, his party always has the best foods and drinks. 

Mingyu must have seen right through you. Your shoulders were slumped and face casted down when you entered the house and removed your coat. Mingyu was waiting for you, leaning on the beam post as he scrolled down his phone to kill time. He offers you a small smile to which you return immediately. The day doesn’t sound so bad anymore. 

It gets better when he meets you halfway and envelopes you in a big warm hug. Your arms didn’t hesitate to circle around his neck, face nuzzling to his neck and smelling his scent you have grown familiar with. He almost swept you off of your feet and pressed a kiss on the side of your head, but he restrained himself and settled for a hug in the meantime. 

“Ahem,” you hear Minghao’s voice, making you reluctantly let go of the baby giant standing in front of you. “It’s my birthday. Shouldn’t I get a hug too?”

You chuckle and make your way towards him. You give him a hug, but only with one arm because Mingyu was holding the other one back, his fingers interlaced with yours. “Happy birthday, Minghao.”

Your friend mutters a sincere thank you. Afterwards, he sends a cheeky wink to Mingyu as if to tell him that he knows. In return, Mingyu just glares at him. You’ll never probably know about this teasing exchange, but who knows, Minghao always finds a way to have the upperhand. He’ll save this story after the two of you officially date. 

“Make a move already,” Minghao says and nudges his friend who’s left alone after you excused yourself to the restroom. 

“Shut up,” Mingyu groans and down the drink he’s holding. “I’ll do it soon, you impatient prick.”

Minghao just gives his signature giggle. 

You return after five minutes and Minghao’s wink doesn’t go unnoticed. You frown when he  snickers as he takes his leave. He must be getting drunk, you thought and find your place beside Mingyu once again, his arm around your shoulders while yours around his waist. 

“What was that all about?” You ask and look up to him. 

“Hmmm?” He hums and intently meets your eyes. “What is it?”

“Minghao,” you answer. “He just winked at me. Were you guys talking behind my back?”

Your narrowed eyes and sulky pout makes Mingyu smile in adoration. He shakes his head and leans down to lightly bump his forehead against yours. For a moment, your heart stops beating at the action. You thought he was about to kiss you. 

“No, of course not,” he assures you and ruffles the top of your head. “It must be the alcohol.”

3. Remembering little details about each other

There’s this one habit that you noticed Mingyu has been doing. His hair is short compared to yours, but even with that length, he likes to pull some strands and twist them around his fingers. At first you were confused, but when you witnessed him sleepily do it after he woke up from a quick nap, you were sure nothing looked more endearing. 

These days you do it for him and that makes him drift to dreamland in an instant. It wasn’t an intentional act. The first time was when you were in the car on the way to the rest house that you’ll be staying at with your friends. He was squirming and couldn’t seem to find a comfortable position. You felt bad because he looked like he really wanted to get some shut-eye. So without any hesitation, you gently grab his head and let it rest on your shoulder. Mingyu becomes small beside you once he wraps his arms around yours. You were only caressing his hair in the first few minutes and it’s not until later you started doing his habit. He was snoring all throughout the ride and you weren’t bothered by one bit.

On the other hand, Mingyu noticed that you only use one pillow. Not only when you sleep. You just seriously have one pillow on your bed and that’s it. You told him it’s inside one of your cabinets when he asked you where the other pair was when he visited (he goes to your place now, alone). He asked why and your only answer is that you don’t want it to accumulate dust. 

“I sleep just fine with one pillow for my head to rest on anyway,” you tell him while placing the hot mug on the center table. 

“Noted,” he says and pat the cushion of your couch for you to sit on. “I won’t give you any then for your birthday.”

You roll your eyes, but smile nonetheless and finally take your seat. 

Mingyu takes the remote and presses play to start the movie you decided to watch. You snuggle closer to him and rest your head on his shoulder. Almost like an instinct, Mingyu wraps his arm around you without tearing his eyes from the television. 

“You could be my other pillow,” you murmur under your breath and if Mingyu was too engrossed in the film, he wouldn’t hear you. 

Good thing he wasn’t. Because he heard you loud and clear. 

Remember when Mingyu said he won’t buy you a pillow for your birthday? He didn’t. But he did on one random day. 

Your hands were by your hips as you watched him take your now old pillow and replace it with the brand new ones he bought. He must be out of his mind if he thinks he can just barge into your bedroom and change your decor. Well, you must be also out of your mind because you’re allowing him to do so.

“Can I know why you’re suddenly changing my pillow?” You question as you follow him around. 

“You’ll sleep better with these,” he guarantees, fluffing them up.

You cross your arms and challenge his claims. “How do you even know that?”

“I asked around and did my research,” he answers and takes your hand to pull you to the mattress. “Doctors also recommend this particular pillow design.”

He makes you lay down and when your head hits his gift, you can’t deny the instant relaxation your muscles felt. You thought you were going to fall asleep right this moment. 

“How is it?” Mingyu asks, still standing as he peers down at you. “Feels good, right?”

“Lay down with me and you’ll find out,” you boldly offer, looking him directly in the eyes. 

Mingyu blinks in astonishment, but doesn’t back down. He quickly removes his slippers (the one you bought only for him) and takes the space on your other side. This is the first time he’ll ever lay beside you on your bed and you honestly don’t know how to feel. In a good way. A really really good way.

“Oh wow,” he says with a sigh and closed eyes. “This does feel good.”

You smile and prop yourself on your elbow to face him and bop his nose. “You didn’t have to buy me this, but thank you nonetheless.”

Mingyu opens his eyes before holding you close to him, your head on his chest and his one arm underneath your body. He briefly kisses your forehead and closes his eyes again. 

“Anything for you.”

4. Showing that they care for one another

“I can always cook for you, if you want.”

Mingyu, being the ever all around and caring person that he is, decided to make you lunch. He cooked you your favorites because you mentioned at your dinner date (yes, you finally call your times spent together dates) that you missed eating them and cooking has been excluded from your schedule because of your lack of energy to do so. 

Your smile is beaming while you fix the collar of his coat. He hasn’t even showered yet by the looks of his disheveled hair and familiar yellow t-shirt you saw during your video call last night. He probably woke up earlier than usual to cook and rush to get here. 

“You know that I will appreciate that, right?” You ask and pat his chest. “But no thank you. I’m just busy this week. I will find a way to cook again.”

Mingyu purses his lips and nods. “Well, just say the word and I got you.”

You giggle and kiss his cheek. “How’s the song you’re working on with Wonwoo by the way?”

It was Mingyu’s turn to smile as he tail behind you to your bedroom. He mentioned this collaboration once (he talked about it for hours but that doesn’t matter) and his heart swells with pride that you remembered. You know that he has a lot of interests and that he’s good at doing them. Recently, he’s been immersed with music composing because he had the chance to visit Jihoon’s studio and watch him do his magic. Bringing Wonwoo along was a piece of cake because of their similar tastes.

“It’s doing great!” He answers and plops down on your bed. “We’ll try to finish recording this week and then we’ll continue from there.”

“I’m so excited to hear it,” you genuinely say while caressing his face. His eyes were closed when he nodded and smiled. He’s really sleepy now. “You can stay here if you want. Nap, shower or whatever.”

Mingyu has stayed the night countless of times. He has his own drawer of clothings, slippers, toothbrush, facial wash, soap and shampoo among many other belongings here already and if he had his own key, he can also just saunter his way in. But out of respect for you, he doesn’t. He can’t wait for that to happen though. 

Mingyu doesn’t need to be told twice, immediately removing his warm coat and dropping it to the floor. You roll your eyes and pick it up, folding it neatly before placing it on the chair. You watch him slip underneath the blanket and hold the pillow you use close to him, slowly falling asleep. 

You breathe out a dreamy sigh and lean down to kiss his forehead. “See you later, baby.”

5. Slowly, but surely falling in love

How do you even start finding the right words to describe how Mingyu has made a huge difference in your life? He tells you how you did all the time. You, however, can’t seem to exactly point them out. Your boyfriend (for the nth time, finally) is not bothered by one bit but you feel bad because you want him to know, you want to assure him.

He just shakes his head at you and pulls you closer to his naked torso, coaxing you to sleep and not let it get in your head. You relent after a while, giving his pecs a soft kiss and closing your eyes. 

The following morning, Mingyu wakes up early because he has to meet with the director and production crew that will bring their music video to life. They took a break after the song was finished to breathe and let ideas flow naturally without any force. The song was beyond amazing and you are proud of what he and his best friend accomplished. He’s on a roll these days and you're happy for him.

Mingyu remains on the bed, picking up his phone from the nightstand to check the time. His other arm remains wrapped around you, running soothing circles on your shoulder as you continue to sleep. He lowers the brightness level before scrolling any further, afraid that it will awfully wake you up. He has the option to get up, but he prefers you to not get cranky because he left.

Eventually, Mingyu has to force himself up but not without leaving kisses all over your face. You were already awake the moment he woke up. You were just stalling for time with your eyes closed so that you can keep him close to you. When he detaches himself, you finally open your eyes and follow his body walking towards the bathroom. 

The bedroom is dark from the closed curtains, but the light he turns on is enough for you to get a good grasp of how sexy and handsome your boyfriend is. You ogle at him and you’re proud of it. He has caught you numerous times already, but he admits that he’s the same with you. It doesn’t matter if you’re wearing a hoodie matched with sweatpants or a lace camisole paired with an underwear of the same material. His eyes will follow you.

After stretching your limbs that fell asleep with you, you sit up and stand from the bed as well. You put your slippers on and grab the cardigan he always leaves on the chair and drape it over your upper body. Mingyu hears your movements as he brushes his teeth and smiles at your sluggish steps towards him. 

“Breakfast?” You ask while wrapping your arms around his waist, your cheek resting against his back. 

“I’ll grab some with Wonwoo hyung,” he answers, rinsing the toothbrush. “Do you want me to cook for you?”

You shake your head no and plant a kiss on his warm skin. Even at this point of your relationship, Mingyu has been consistent. Always caring, always loving. 

“It’s okay. I’ll probably fall asleep again in the living room once you leave.”

Mingyu turns around and wraps his arms around your waist. You lean towards him and let his body engulf yours. He kisses, once or twice, the top of your head before reluctantly letting go to shower. 

“Let’s have dinner together tonight,” he says. “I’ll cook.”

“No, I will cook,” you rebut and he just shakes his head. “I love you, Mingyu.”

Mingyu almost slipped on the cold tiled floor. You laugh and he glares at you. 

“I told you not to surprise me like that!” He complains and shuts the curtains closed. 

You roll your eyes and walk outside to the living room.

“And I love you too!” 

[plant-flwrs]

hi! could you do a draco x reader imagine where it’s enemies to lovers and one night at a party draco gets drunk and confesses his feelings?

drunk // draco malfoy

masterlist!

a/n: i literally had an idea exactly like this n my drafts omg but it was smut :0 wut r the odds. n e way, hope u like it, thanks for the request anon!!

summary: You and Draco are enemies until one drunken night leads to a confession of secret feelings.

(4.4k)

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It was no secret that the Slytherin house was plagued by Draco Malfoy. The house was split; people who went along with Malfoy’s bullying and those who hated the boy. You were proud to say you definitely did not get along with Draco.

Over the many years of mutual torment between the two of you, you had both improved on your ways you made the other’s life a living hell.

This week, you had decided to casually mention to Ron that in his sleep, Draco sucked his thumb. You had no idea if this was true, of course, but you knew Ron would tell everyone he knew. 

In retort, Draco had been stealing any of your school work you left out in the common room. He would return it a few days later with all your work erased. 

This was typical. It would have been unusual if you didn’t have the added stress Draco gave you.

The worst part was the classes you shared. You shared a fair amount of them, being in the same house and finding a lot of your courses to be the same. The both of you were fairly smart, proving to be good competition. 

Charms was your least favorite. You had an awful memory, and when you had to remember the physical movements with the vocal spell, you struggled miserably. Draco did fine in Charms, which made it even worse.

Today was particularly difficult, having to memorize at least ten spells, each with different movements and verbal aspects. You sulked out of the room, loosening your green tie in frustration.

“Finding Charms a little hard today?” Draco mocked, raising his voice so it mimicked that of a baby’s.

“Not as hard as that Transfiguration test was for you last week. How much like a tea pot did your poor little mouse look like? I seem to recall it still had its tail,” you retorted, feeling better already about Charms as you looked at Draco’s sour expression.

“So what? What good will a mouse teapot do me? At least I can cast a gouging charm without nearly killing half the class,” Draco shot back, taking an intimidating step closer to you.

The two of you stood off in the middle of the hallway. This often happened after Charms, for it was the last class of the day and neither of you had anything better to do than shout at each other.

You rolled your eyes at the boy and crossed your arms over your chest.

“I didn’t even come close to killing anyone, Draco. Your such a drama queen,” you teased him, enjoying the flush on his cheeks. 

“Oh shut up,” he managed to still sound fierce, even with the pink hint on his face.

“Gonna cry about it?” you teased further, hoping to rile him up more.

He squinted his eyes at you and gave you one last critical look. He lifted his lip in a sneer and stalked off, Goyle and Crabbe following after him.

That was how you and Draco interacted. You would tease him, press his buttons, and he would get incredibly angry. It either ended with his storming off, or him saying something hurtful enough that actually made you sink to his level. He didn’t do it very frequently, because usually it resulted in him having a bruised eye for a few weeks.

You were happy to stand up to Draco, because not many other people did it. He was often too favored by Snape to ever get too badly hurt by Harry, and everyone else was too scared of him. Snape didn’t often interfere with the interactions between you and Draco, and you assumed he simply did not care.

You left Charms for the day feeling significantly more confident than when you had entered. You failed miserably at the assignments, and that upset you, but your little victory over Draco made up for it. You walked with Pansy to the Black Lake, books clutched tight to your chest as shields against the cold air nipping your skin. Your scarf clung to your neck and did its best to defend your vulnerable lips.

“You really can’t go?” you asked again, adding a slight whine to your voice.

“I can’t,” Pansy replied regretfully, “I’ve got loads of work to do, and my mum’s been on me about it recently.”

Pansy had fallen behind in more than a few of her courses. You supposed you could blame yourself a little, but didn’t like to think that hard about it. You and Pansy had been fast and loose recently, attending almost any and every party you could find, and spending a little more money than usual on certain substances. You justified it, though, thinking you’d be spending just as much at Hogsmeade every weekend.

“It won’t be any fun without you, though,” you said, still hoping she would change her mind.

“You’ll have Daphne,” Pansy said teasingly, “give her enough firewhisky and she’s a hoot.”

You giggled with Pansy, thinking back to the last time Daphne got drunk at a party. She had climbed on almost every elevated surface to dance, and when she ran out of tables to stand on, she had tried walking on the heads of the nearest first years.  

“Can I help you on some of your work? Get it out of the way?” you offered, practically desperate at this point.

“Would you? That might actually work,” Pansy exclaimed, rushing to the nearest tree to sit against with her school things.

You trailed after her, sitting next to her and pulling out some of your quills. You looked dutifully at Pansy’s Ancient Runes work, starting to write in your best attempt at your best friend’s handwriting. 

You knew there was an ulterior motive in wanting Pansy at the party, as much as you didn’t want to admit it. She was usually the only person who could effectively stop you from drunkenly interacting with Draco. She was the only one who could keep you two separate. As much as you hated Draco, something in your drunk subconscious always made you drawn to him. You needed her at that party.

Pansy stole a glance from her Potions work, looking at you. She smiled thankfully, tucking her short hair behind her ear and returning to her work.

The two of your worked silently for as long as you could, but the sun was against you. It crept away, hiding behind trees and clouds. The two of you began to collect Pansy’s scattered books in the dusk, some faint and lingering sunlight peaking through trees branches lighting the ground. You pulled your robes closer to you, feeling the air get colder as the sun was no longer there to warm you. You and Pansy struggled back to the castle, avoiding stray tree roots carefully. 

The both of you heard leaves crunching from a few feet away. You ignored it, figuring it was just some other students making their way up to the castle for dinner, too. The light was fading more and more, and you and Pansy were just about to clamber out of the heavily forested area when something hard knocked into your shoulder from behind. Draco had come from the left of you, walking past you and throwing his shoulder into yours. You stumbled forwards, but Pansy’s vigilant hand was quick to steady you before you could fall forwards.

“Merlin!” you said out of surprise, before you realized who it was.

His hair looked white in the moonlight that now illuminated the field. The bottom half of his face was shadowed by a tree, but you could tell by the glint in his eyes that he was smirking. You rolled your eyes, feeling your feet firmly planted on the ground again, and began walking past Draco with Pansy’s arm looped in yours.

“Scare ya?” Draco snarled, taking a few long strides to walk in pace with you and Pansy.

“The only thing about you that scares me, Draco, is your nasty breath,” you said, pretending to sound sweet.

Draco scoffed, and you made a disgusted face, pretending to smell his breath from the few feet you were away from him.

“Honestly Draco,” Pansy said from beside you, struggling to hide her smile but going along with your joke and lifting her hand to cover her nose, “you’d think some of your daddy’s money would go towards toothpaste.”

You laughed earnestly, looking to Draco so you wouldn’t miss the offended face you knew he always made. He wasn’t doing it though, his brows weren’t furrowed and his lips weren’t curled. He looked off. His eyes narrowed but his lips were spread into some sort of crooked grin.

You narrowed your eyes back at him in suspicion, which he noticed. He quickly snapped out of whatever he was in, and his usual sneer was directed towards you and Pansy as he sulked off to the castle.

You and Pansy sat at the Slytherin table in your usual spots. Draco was a few people away from the both of you, as he usually was, but you both ignored him. It was easy to do, especially recently. Blaise had taken a peculiar interest in Pansy, and wherever Blaise went followed his friend Klein. 

Blaise was busy fawning over Pansy, watching her with a dazed look as she brushed her hair from her face. Klein kept his eyes locked on you, something you did not mind.

The boy was a year ahead of you, and he was the interest of just about every Slytherin girl. His green eyes were piercing, especially against the black hair that fell onto his forehead. He always kept his tie remarkably straight, and you often found yourself twirling it in your fingers to tease him. 

Tonight, he and Blaise walked with you and Pansy around the grounds before curfew. 

“Are you going to the party on Saturday?” Blaise asked Pansy, bringing his arm up to wrap around her shoulders.

“I don’t know yet,” she said, and upon seeing your pitiful face she continued, “I’ll try, but no guarantees.”  

“Are you going?” Klein asked you, pulling a hand from his pocket to adjust his green tie.

“Of course,” you smirked, “I would never miss a party.”

Klein stared at you for a moment longer, and aware of his gaze, you bit your lip. You liked to mess with him, he was always so uptight and serious, it was fun to see him unwind just at your little actions.

You and Pansy said goodnight to the boys as you went to the girls dorms. 

The next day was odd, for as you came down the stairs to the common room, you saw Draco. It was not odd to see Draco in the common room, but it was odd for him to not immediately find you in a room and insult you. Instead, he merely locked his eyes with yours and stared at you. When you crinkled your face in confusion, he looked away, turning his attention back down to the book perched in his lap.

“Ready for breakfast?” Pansy asked, coming from behind you on the stairs.

“Yeah,” you mumbled, still looking at Draco as you followed her out of the common room.

In Potions, Draco didn’t torment you. In Transfiguration, he only stared at you, no sneer or grimace present. Most strangely, in Charms, he didn’t even bat an eye when your wand movement was off and your spell rebounded and hit Hannah Abbot. 

You apologized to Hannah profusely, even offering to walk her to the infirmary as her hand began to swell two times its normal size. She blushed, obviously embarrassed by the affliction, but insisted she could go by herself. She made sure you knew she forgave you, smiling politely as you followed her to the door and watched her go down the hallway. You shouted one last apology at her as she turned the corner, and she lifted her swelled hand in a friendly wave. 

Draco watched the entire interaction from his seat, his eyes following you as you held Hannah’s large hand in yours to look at the damage you caused. He looked at the guilty expression on your face, the red tint in your cheeks. He felt two things bubbling in his stomach: adoration and rage. He felt adoration, as he had been feeling for you for a while, and felt rage because he felt this way.

He swallowed hard as your eyes met his. In your flustered and guilty state, you shot him an annoyed look. He widened his eyes, embarrassed to be caught staring, and plunged his face downward to look back into his Charms textbook.

Draco had been weird lately, you noticed. For it was the third day, Friday by now, of no loud arguments in the hall, no insults in the common room, and not even a stray dinner roll being launched at your head during dinner (yes, he did that often). You and Pansy, however, were too busy doing her late work to do anything about Draco. She really was behind, and it was hard for you to do her late work as you had new assignments to do yourself. Pansy found a similar difficulty, leading you both to spend your Friday night poured over textbooks in the common room.

“Hard at work, girls?” you and Pansy looked up to see Blaise and Klein.

They fell into the couch across form you where you sat at a wooden desk against the wall. You had pulled two large armchairs to the table, the leather giving you some sort of relief as you bent over the work. Klein’s long arms stretch the length of the two person couch, and his stalky fingers tapped against it. Blaise leaned forwards, resting his elbows on his knees as he stared at Pansy. Klein eyed you hungrily, obviously enjoying the sight of your tie undone and your skirt riding up as you sat with your legs tucked beneath you.

Normally, you and Pansy would have engaged the boys, entertained yourselves with their mindless presence, but you had real things to do. Blaise and Klein may have been handsome, but they definitely weren’t the company you wanted right now.

“Hello Blaise,” Pansy mumbled tiredly, not looking up from the Transfiguration essay she was about to finish, “how’re you?”

“I’m alright,” he said airily, leaning back into the couch and taking Pansy’s simple question as an invitation to stay and talk.

You fought the urge to groan, not looking up form the Arithmancy problems you scrawled over and over. 

“How about we sneak to the kitchens tonight?” Klein suggested, and you heard the smirk in his voice without having to look at him.

“We’re busy,” you said curtly, clenching your jaw as you came across a difficult set of numbers.

Pansy looked up at you from her paper, flashing you a warning look. You rolled your eyes, giving her an exasperated look. She raised her eyebrows, her face becoming stern. You sighed, releasing the tight grip on your quill.

“I’m sorry boys,” you forced your sweetest voice, “we’ve got loads of homework to do before the party tomorrow. Another time?”

Blaise looked disappointed, but accepting. Klein stood to his full height, and your eyes followed him as he grew. He looked down at you with a playful smirk, licking his lips.

“Of course. We’ll see you tomorrow?”

You nodded and Pansy waved kindly to Blaise. You decided then that you were no longer interested in Klein. He had been fun when he got flustered just from a glance, but now he was becoming like every other teenage boy. His smirks made you want to gag, and his lingering looks were creepy. You figured you’d tell him tomorrow night, if you still cared that much by then. 

You and Pansy continued to work until Pansy slouched back in her chair and groaned loudly.

“I can’t get it done tonight. I’ll have to work on it tomorrow,” she pouted, but looked resolute.

You didn’t bother to attempt another guilt trip, or convince her otherwise. Pansy’s mind was made up. You had to go to this party alone. Pansy wouldn’t let you stay in the dorm all night with her, either, so it’s not like you even had a choice. At least Klein wouldn’t bother you. He seemed to only have the guts to come up to you if Blaise did too, and he wouldn’t come up to you if you weren’t with Pansy. Now all you had to do was make sure not to get roped into an argument with Draco. You had to be the bigger person for one night and make sure you wouldn’t do anything you’d regret in the morning.

Pansy was right, she couldn’t get all her work done that night. She sat on her bed with books sprawled around her. You looked at yourself in the mirror, smoothing your hands over the clothe hugging your body. You looked good, you felt good.

“You’re going to be fine,” Pansy reassured you for the tenth time as you sat at the end of her bed, “you can go to parties without me.”

“Okay, but if I come back here tonight having lost a shoe or something, it’s your fault,” you joked, smiling as Pansy laughed.

You, Daphne, and Millicent stayed in your dorm for a little while longer. You moved some clothes around in your trunk, lifting a hidden compartment at the bottom. You retrieved two bottles of firewhisky, handing them to Daphne and Millicent. You closed your trunk, meeting the impressed expressions of the girls. Usually Fred and George Weasley provided alcohol for the school, known for their impressive parties. You and Pansy, however, had your own supply you liked to keep for rainy days. While this wasn’t a rainy day, you couldn’t help the need for a little liquid courage as you had to go to your first party without your best friend. You took the bottle from Millicent and Pansy giggled as she looked up from her Ancient Rune dictionary to watch you take a large swig of the drink.

You felt it burn as it traveled down your throat, and it spread through your body like a warm blanket. You handed the bottle back to Millicent, and the three of you finished off an entire bottle. You didn’t want to go downstairs until you heard the music become loud enough, and by the time you were putting the empty bottle back in your trunk, the party roared downstairs. 

The three of you said goodbye to Pansy and went to the common room. The music became louder and louder as you got closer to the party. Soon, Daphne was dragging you and Millicent to a large table with assorted drinks. You watched a boy on the other side of the table pouring himself a heavy amount of a clear liquid. He met your eyes and handed you the bottle. You looked at the label but all that was there was a cartoon drawing of a witch with bubbles spouting from her mouth. You raised your eyebrow at the boy, and he smiled, taking a sip of his drink. You filled your own cup with the liquid, drinking it quickly. It burned more than the firewhisky did, but it was still enjoyable.

You felt your head feel lighter as Daphne clasped onto your hand to pull you out to the dance floor. You danced with her, and as you moved your cup slid from your hand. You and Daphne looked at it for a moment, the cup spilled over as a wet spot formed on the carpet. You looked back up at each other and fell into a fit of giggles. 

You continued to dance, looking around the crowd with ease. You felt like someone was staring at you, but you couldn’t find anyone in particular. The music and alcohol coursed through your veins. You felt lighter than you had in months, no worrying thoughts of homework or boys, or even Draco Malfoy.

The second you thought about how you weren’t thinking about Malfoy, you were immediately thinking about him. Part of you missed the hateful sparks between you, the natural narrow of your eyes at the sight of him. 

Your body tensed involuntarily, and your drunk subconscious was already hoping to see his blond hair in the crowd. You tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, thinking of what to say so Draco’s stern face would devolve into a furious expression. 

You slowed next to Daphne, a wicked look overtaking your dazed face.

“What is it?” Daphne shouted into your ear, pulling you closer by your arm.

“I’ve got to go find someone,” you shouted back, “I’ll be back in a second.”

You were moving through the crowd before Daphne could reach out and stop you. A small voice in the back of your head sounded a bit like Pansy, her familiars warnings from the last party you were at with Draco. She had found you as you were just about to pour your drink down his front, and her soothing words floated into your drunken mind like good-natured clouds.

“He’s not worth it, honestly. All the stress he causes you is going to give you wrinkles, you don’t want wrinkles. Leave him be,” Pansy was right then and she would have been right again. Alas, Pansy was not here and her words did not echo loud enough in your head as you finally found the blond.

He was draped across a leather couch. His legs dangled off the arm as his head was perched on a pile of blankets. At the floor, Crabbe and Goyle hunched over, goblets clutched loosely in their seemingly unconscious hands. Draco’s eyes were closed, his long eyelashes delicately hovering over his pink flushed cheeks. His hair was pushed off his forehead, falling in handsome tufts onto the blankets under him. You stood there for a moment, interchanging which leg to rest your weight on.

“Are you going to say something,” Draco suddenly drawled, barely loud enough to be heard over the music, “or are you content to sit in silence for once?”

You scoffed, taking a breath that made your chest rise. You walked towards him, curling your warm fingers around his legs and flinging them off the arm of the couch. His body twisted and his eyes opened at the touch. You sat next to him, at least a foot between the both of you.

“What do you want?” he asked, leaning over to take Crabbe and Goyle’s full goblets from them. He handed you Goyle’s as he drank from Crabbe’s.

“Just wanted to see if you had done anything embarrassing that I could tell the whole school about tomorrow,” you lied, taking a considerable sip from the goblet.

Draco scoffs next to you, “Not yet, darling.”

You gave Draco a glance. He seemed distressed about something. The way he cradled the goblet in his hands and drank with an urgency was the way someone drinks when their upset.

“What’s got your panties all tied up, Draco?” you asked teasingly, leaning in his direction slightly.

Draco looked at your lidded eyes, the natural smirk on your pretty lips, the outfit you wore that you looked absolutely amazing in; he couldn’t feel any rage as he looked at you that night.

“You,” he said softly, staying stiffly straight but turning his head to face you.

You felt your cheeks warm, looking at him with a curious smirk.

“Really?” you indulged, wondering what else Draco may drunkenly confess. His words weren’t slurring like yours, but the faint pink flush on his cheeks and his unseemly kindness told you he was not sober.

He nodded silently, looking down at the goblet in his lap.

“Draco,” you said, turning to rest your back against the arm of the couch as your legs spread on the cushions. Your feet were inches from touching Draco’s thighs, and he tensed as he looked at the lack of space, “You’ve been acting odd with me recently.”

Draco, if possible, tensed even more at your statement. He was not nearly as drunk as you thought he was, or as you were.

“I don’t know what you mean,” he stuttered, biting his bottom lip. This was the first time you had ever seen Draco Malfoy seem flustered. 

“Draco?” you slurred, not speaking again until he turned his face to yours.

You moved forward, bending your legs so you still didn’t touch him, but so your face was close to his.

“Do you fancy me?” you drawled, intrigued. 

Draco’s previously tense and stiff stature seemed to relax, as if a secret was released that he had been bottling up. He brought his goblet to his lips slowly, and you did the same, the both of you finishing off what Crabbe and Goyle had been drinking. 

“If I’m going to be honest-” Draco had turned his head to you and began speaking, but you weren’t listening. His lips looked so soft and his eyes looked so kind, you couldn’t help but lean in and kiss him.

He was surprised at first, unmoving against your lips. You smiled, still against him, and it seemed to make him realize what was happening. Within seconds, one of his hands was on your waist as the other was on your cheek. You sighed into the kiss, tasting a cinnamon flavored alcohol on his tongue as he slid it into your mouth. Your brought your hands to his neck, unable to stop yourself from playing with his hair. You ran your fingernails across his scalp and down to the nape of his neck, smiling again as he moaned into your lips.

You pulled away when it felt like your lungs needed air, which they did, and kept your eyes closed. Your shoulder fell into the side of the couch, your forehead resting on Draco’s shoulder. 

You felt yourself drifting off into a drunken sleep, your body feeling heavy as it slumped into Draco’s.

“I really like you, Y/n. I really do,” Draco confessed from beside you, stroking your hair, “I think you’re the most clever person I’ve ever met.”

You felt your heart swoon at his confession, wondering if he said it because he thought you were already asleep, or if the alcohol was affecting him as much as you. You shifted, bringing your legs to fall into his lap, to which Draco wrapped his slender fingers around your thigh and pulled your closer to his body.

“I hope you’re not too drunk to remember this,” he mumbled, his own eyes fluttering shut as the both of you fell asleep. 

[wesimpforxiao]

Say My Name and I’ll Be There: 8.3; Lantern Rite Part 2

Author’s Note:  Happy Valentine’s Day ;)

........

--Can feel your emotions...emotions cannot be permanently ignored...fall on deaf ears...early grave... Xiao scoffed and downed the rest of his tea before forcefully setting the cup back down onto the table. "You think admitting my alleged feelings for a mortal human would solve the problem?"

"She's done her part, now it is your turn," Zhongli straightened. "If you fail to do so, I fear she will perish from your karmic debt in no time at all. If what you say is true, it's a miracle she's still alive. Your admittance would seal the bond, as it would eliminate the side effects altogether."

Xiao's head whipped in the direction of the playing of an instrument note, but was only greeted with the joyful screams of children running around nearby. "Tch. How annoying," he played his mishearing off and returned to his normal sitting position.  A few beats of silence passed before he spoke again.  "I would only be prolonging her untimely demise.  If we stay together, if she stays by my side, my sins will affect her with or without the bond."

"That is correct."

The archon was never one to sugarcoat things.  "It would be selfish of me to admit to those emotions, selfish to indulge in them--she would die at my hand."

"Yes."

"Then why should I seal the bond, if us getting closer seals her fate?"  The yaksha's voice nearly cracked, but he hid it well with his piercing gaze as he questioned his master.  "Why?"

"How long do you plan on protecting Liyue?"

The random question made the yaksha falter.  "For as long as our contract endures."  What a silly question--it wasn't even for debate.  It was his duty to protect Liyue, to absolve his sins and pay thanks to the archon that redeemed him.  Why would Zhongli bring it up now?

"How much longer can you protect those who reside in Liyue?  How long until the cracks begin to form within you, too?"

'Just as my fallen friends...' Xiao searched his master's eyes for a moment before parting his lips.  "I--"

"I do not know the end of your story, Xiao, but I brought your unruly fate upon you.  When the time comes for you to face the same darkness that's consumed you, you cannot face it alone."

.........................

Zhongli watched the three of you push your way through the crowd to greet him, his eyes narrowing at you in particular.  "I see you have found your other teammates," he nodded approvingly.

"Yeah."  You hadn't stopped scanning the crowd, and didn't so much as look his way despite being prodded by Aether.

"Something's wrong with her," the boy warned Zhongli.  "She's not--"

"Do not concern yourself, traveler.  She will be just fine."

"Huh?"  Paimon grumbled.  "What do you mean by that?  Have you no concern for her?"

"We've convened earlier today.  I will inform you, but first..." His eyes slid back to you, and he raised his voice to catch your attention.  "You wish to see him?"

"Hm?  U-um, yes..."  His piercing gaze saw right through you, and it was an uncomfortable feeling.  "What?"

"I'd advise you to leave the harbor," he nodded to the mountainside that was on the other side of the city gates.  You nodded a quick thanks before running away at full speed.

I'm here, Xiao.  But the yaksha didn't need to hear your impolite prayers to know that you were, when he could hear the distinct conversations of the people you ran past even though he was literal miles away from the harbor.

..............

You felt him before you saw him.  Sitting on the rocky hill that overlooked the guarded entrance of Liyue Harbor, you peered over your shoulder to find the one person you had longed to see all day.  The yaksha stopped in his tracks when you met his eyes.  

"What...are you doing here?"  It was like he was uncertain if he was hallucinating, eyes narrowing cynically as you stood to greet him.  It was clear that he was weary from his day-long battle, but any pure exhaustion was hidden behind his tough façade.  

"Childe brought me back for the Lantern Rite," you caught him snarling when you said the harbinger's name.  "I--"

Your vision was suddenly obscured by his face once he appeared before you at the speed of light.  His hand gingerly traced your cheek, a rare gentleness, a fondness seeping through his cynical eyes.  You hadn't realized how much you had been craving his touch;  your hand kept him from removing his from your cheek.  How long had it been?  Two weeks? It had to have been three by now, but it felt like an eternity from how much you had to deal with Childe or watch people die.

Real, Xiao's lips twitched into an unnoticeable smile, but the light in his eyes was bright as day.  The two of you stood with foreheads pressed together for who knows how long until the yaksha was the one to pull away and regain his neutral composure.  His eyes floated to that of the dark ocean before landing on the small lantern that sat next to your viewing rock.

"They'll be releasing them soon," you say, noticing his gaze.  "I meant to make two, but it turns out its REALLY hard to make them..."

"Mm."  He acknowledged you before sitting on the left side of the rock, silently prompting you to join him.

You did.  "H-hey, is that blood?"  You finally noticed the smear on his right cheek, worry entering your voice.  "Are you okay? Here, let me see--"

"It's not mine."  Xiao leaned away from your hand and wiped the smudge away himself.

Back to pushing me away, you faltered back, wavering eyes refocusing their attention on the black horizon to distract yourself from the hurt that panged in your chest.  You sat on your hands as if to close yourself off from him--to restrain yourself from invading his personal space.

I did it again.  Xiao inwardly cursed himself out for causing the sad look in your eyes.  It's not like he meant to.  He's too used to shutting people out for their safety; he's too accustomed to being alone.  Xiao watched you out of the corner of his eye before finally gathering the courage to speak.  She needs to know.

"I need you to understand," he started, sending you a brief glance before facing the ocean again.  "Yakshas accumulate karma from the eons of slaughter we're tasked with.  It eats away at our souls, corrupts us, or drives us mad.  We become the monsters we're meant to destroy.  Outsiders, companions, anyone who gets too close, will share and suffer that karma.  It is why I order you and Aether to leave, and it is why I keep everyone at a distance."

You watched him continue to carefully sort his thoughts out.  He's never talked so much without your prompting.  

"None of us have had, nor will have, a happy ending.  This is our fate.  And it will be your fate too, if you continue to stay at my side.  The karma I've accumulated will only grow in future years, and you won't be a stranger to it."

Your shoulders dropped.  Is he...Is he going to leave me completely? Is he going to push me away for good?

Xiao heard your worries, and he briefly met your eyes again.  "Could you still love a yaksha, while knowing this information?  While knowing your fate will be sealed, and you won't find peace?"

"Of course."

"This isn't a light decision," Xiao admonished and rotated his body slightly to face you.  "You cannot--"  Do humans not understand danger?

"Xiao."  The determination in your eyes made his next words stick to his throat.  "I've already thought about it long and hard.  I've seen your past.  I've felt some of your pain.  Even if this bond thing doesn't 'seal'--whatever that means--even if I am stuck with hearing those awful voices for the rest of my life, I will never be able to stop my feelings for you.  Even if you don't return my feelings.  I've come to accept all of it."

Could Xiao bring himself to admit his feelings if there was a high chance that fate would set its cruel sights on you?  You could say all this now, but you've only felt the karma for a month.  What happens in a year from now? A decade? A century?  Your life wouldn't be as short as a humans because of his blood...Could he find it in him to confess if you were driven mad and he, ridden with guilt from causing your downfall?  Sealing the bond wouldn't guarantee that the voices would leave you, and it definitely wouldn't make you immune to his karma.  Xiao had thought he had decided on confessing, but now that he saw that raw, naïve determination in your gaze, maybe it was better that he kept it to himself for your safety--

"Do you trust me, Xiao?"  His attention snapped back to you.  "You felt my love for you in Zapolyarny Palace, didn't you?  If you did, then you know my feelings are genuine..."

That's right...your feelings were so warm back then, and the way you had hugged him close...He felt his own version when he had heard your moonsong.  'How long can you continue protecting Liyue? When the time comes for you to face the same darkness that's consumed you, you cannot face it alone.  Zhongli was righ--Archons, forget it.  You had never lied to him, and he doubted you'd ever plan on doing so in the future.  You were still just as stubborn as all those years ago on your deathbed of bloody soil; that aspect of you never changed.  And if you were this stubborn, it wouldn't make sense for him to label your decision as a half-hearted, half-thought out answer.

Xiao examined you carefully for a silent minute, not quite listening to the words that flew out of your mouth.  He didn't know how much longer he could stand tall against the swarms of darkness that swirled in his heart; he liked to think he could do so for another millennia, but that could change with one wrong move, one wrong thought, or one misplacement in willpower.  But maybe as Zhongli said, he could find a new purpose, a new ray of light that could help him continue his duty if the day for evil to overwhelm him ever comes.

The yaksha couldn't quite find a place in the mortal realm, but he was curious on how it worked, how the humans were, what kind of customs they created.  His karma made it impossible to quell that curiosity, and equally as dangerous for mortals.  But he met you, that four year old girl that didn't do anything but provoke his curiosity and longing for kinship further.  And then he really got to know you, all those months ago--what made you tick much like the other humans, the way you smiled, how you had the same sense of humor as him, the aggressive and the kind sides of your personality that clashed together to form this perfect, messy example of how humans worked.

Maybe he found out where to start when it came to you mortals, and that starting line was with you.  You shone at the end of the tunnel, a beacon for safety and dare he call a symbol of peace that he could come home to.  Xiao's eyes never left you as you continued to ramble on.

"--Then, I suppose, I could love you."  The yaksha muttered the words like they tasted sour, but his eyes were soft when they landed on you.

"I--You--Huh?"  You had thought he was trying to pull away from you for good, but this? He was confessing?  Your oblivious mind wouldn't have guessed this would happen...So this is what Zhongli was inferring earlier!

"What?"  Xiao narrowed his eyes and looked away as if he were embarrassed.  "It's not that significant," he pouted.  "Humans are flustered too easily by the smallest matters."  Despite his crimson cheeks and beet-red ears, he found it difficult to fight back a smile when he saw the ridiculous look on your face.

"You..."  Faint lights shone down on your little moment, and you glanced up to find that the lanterns were being released.  "Wow, look!"  You rose to your feet and stared at the distant lanterns before remembering that you had one of your own.  Your gaze dropped to it, and an idea struck you.  "Xiao...would you like to do this one together?"  You picked it up and lit it with the match you had in your pocket.

"I still don't understand why humans discard their trash into the ocean," he muttered before standing as well.  He watched the small flame burn brighter as it sat in your hands.  "What's the point?"

"The lanterns represent our wishes and thanks to the adepti," you explained and gestured for him to take hold of the other side of the lantern.  He reluctantly did so, but curiosity overcame him and he patiently listened to you with a slight childlike wonder in his eyes.  "As for why we chose lanterns, I think it's just because they're pretty."

"Hmph."

"Do you have any wishes for the archons?  We're supposed to write them on the lantern," you pulled a small pen out from your back pocket and uncapped it, offering the other end to him.

"Adepti don't go by your mortal ideals," he scoffed.  

His clear distaste for your question drew a laugh from your lips.  "I figured there was no harm in asking again! Okay.  Even if you don't have a wish, let's release it, yeah? One, two, three..."  The two of you gently pushed the lantern into the air, where it slowly made its journey to join the rest of its companions that now floated all around you.  

"You didn't write your wish," he commented, his brows furrowing in confusion.  How dare you ask him to write a wish, yet you did no such thing.  The hypocrisy of humans!

"Why would I need to if it already came true?"  You gave him a smirk before facing the sky.  "They're so pretty," you marveled, nearly making yourself dizzy from staring straight up.  "Don't you think so?"

"Mm."  He agreed, but he was only looking at you.  It took you a few minutes before you could gather the courage to return his gaze, feeling his stare while you watched the lanterns sparkle like the stars.  Well, it was also when your neck got tired.

You returned your eyes to the yaksha only to find him staring hard at you with an unreadable expression.  "W-what?"

"You're serious about me, even if it ends up killing you?"  He still couldn't understand why...Wouldn't self-preservation be what everyone chooses when put in a perilous situation?  Is this human stupidity, or is there some type of logic behind your trust that he failed to grasp?

You blinked, facing him fully.  "One hundred percent."  I don't need to think twice about my answer, but he's still concerned about me?  "Xiao, do you trust me?"

He didn't answer and instead approached you after a few beats of silence until you almost breathed the same air.  He was visibly struggling with something, but as for what, you had no idea.  He allowed himself to slide a hand through your hair and play with the strands before it settled against the nape of your neck.  He pulled you closer until his lips grazed across your eyelids.  He ignored the shocked gasp that left your parted lips and let his brush across your other eyelid before they settled against the spot between your brows.

He then pulled away, his head resting against your forehead, and for a second you wondered if any of that was real until you managed to snap out of your daze.  "D-did you just...?  Xiao...?"

[215-luv]

heyaa how are youu ❤️?? for the suna, issei, and tsukishima comforting their s/o when they're tired with school, can i have a part two for it with osamu, sakusa, and semi? thank you very much and im sorry for bothering you, i just really need this because im struggling with school 😭

OSAMU, SAKUSA AND SEMI COMFORTING THEIR S/O

a/n: you’re doing great lovely! just to let you know i’m currently cheering for you <3 ILY!!!

miya osamu

he definitely knows what’s going on

he’ll bring out his speciality and cook you all the greatest recipes he’s done

“darlin it’s time to take a break, ya have been staring at yer laptop for too long now.”

i guarantee u he’d insist that he’ll be the one to feed you

osamu isn’t much on the smart side but he’s willing to give it all just to help you with your studies

for example; he stays up late with you researching all the stuff your professor provided

groans when there were too much search results so he didn’t exactly know what the fuck is he supposed to do

lowkey talks mean stuff about your teacher

he throws in jokes then and there to the point where he doesn’t even realize it’s making you feel better

“y’know i’m gonna do anything for ya, right?”

“of course, samu.”

“good” he smiles, “i love ya.”

sakusa kiyoomi

he knows he isn’t good at comforting people but he’ll always do his best when it comes to you

occasionally he will ask if you’re doing alright or if you need any help

clearly knows you’re lying when you say yes cause he can see the small tears over your eyes

your boyfriend sighs

“you don’t have to force it you know? take a deep breath and tell yourself it’s okay to rest.”

you exhale, “but, kiyo-“

“yeah, nope. go to bed, just for five minutes.”

he tugs over your shirt, ushering you to stand up

it didn’t stop you by the fact that you were extremely tired and that you needed to flop against the bed

sakusa slowly tugs you closer to his body, caressing your arm while putting you to sleep

your lids flutter close, feeling your heart swarm from the warmth and comfort your boyfriend is giving you

“i won’t leave you, i’ll be here. you deserve the rest y/n.”

semi eita

doesn’t let your condition slip through his fingers

your boyfriend probably knows when it’s time to stop and you’re getting really panicky over the load of work

seeing you being all stressed just makes him click his tongue to the point where he holds both of your arms to stop you from typing

you looks at him questioningly, and he only gave you a soft gaze

“baby, you’re doing it again..”

you sigh, “i-i’m sorry eita.. everything just feels so overwhelming right now”

“i understand, but what you need now is proper care and cuddles from me, what do you think hm?”

you had to nod in desperation, your boyfriend smiling while he tugs you by your legs to entangle them around his waist

“does my pretty baby want all my attention?” semi coos, sitting himself on the bed, pulling you closer you his body while he sways you side to side

“i’ll be here to help you, my love. don’t you worry.”

[mrpenguinpants]

Ok like I know this is your third compliment but I'm so glad you're writing for this fandom. All your ideas are so creative and developed that none of it felt so OOC. If you can, what about angst HCs from Kaeya and Diluc. Since theyre so head to head against each other, imagine if they were in love with someone but was with their brother. Now they have to watch Kaeya/Diluc with their s/o while suffering from the sidelines ;w;

Ahh you’re all so lovely 💕 Don’t be shy to just say anything I promise I’m not scary. Your compliments makes me feel more confident ;u; I just finished diluc’s and kaeya’s hc of being jealous so I’m lowkey branching of my last hc point for both of those posts. Took a bit of a different style this time and I might have went a little too deep aha. 

Spoiler’s for Diluc’s and Kaeya’s character stories and past (but you should really read Kaeya’s story) 

---

Diluc and Kaeya: Falling for their brother’s s/o 

You had told him when it was late at night in the tavern. For the better half of a couple months, you’ve been dropping by around late afternoon asking if you could keep him company and help out since he’s been so busy during the day, and Diluc would never say no to that. It was a passing comment you made as you said goodbye to him as you opened the door to head out.  

You wanted to keep your relationship a secret from the public? Felt it was wrong to not tell him since you were dating his brother? Had you not noticed that he was in love with you for months? 

He smiles and bares it, nodding goodbye as you leave, just until that door closes and he’s left alone. He slowly unclenches his fists from under the counter as the weight in his chest gets heavier. He hasn’t felt like this in a long time. The last time was when his father passed away. 

A part of him feels ashamed that he let himself get so close to you even though at the time, he had no idea you were actually in love with his brother. He hadn’t even seen you talk to Kaeya once since knowing you but to be fair, he doesn’t involve himself in Kaeya’s affairs unless it’s to protect Mondstadt. 

But as he reflects in the empty tavern, he doesn’t regret meeting you and becoming close friends. It’s not your fault, you were in love with someone else. He should be happy for you and Kaeya. 

He wants to protect the things that he treasures most. When his father passed away he lost the faith in both the gods and the knights of Favonius. He doesn’t want to push you away and lose what he still has because of his actions or behaviour. 

In the beginning, he becomes bitter to Kaeya. Before he might have humored Kaeya’s antics and random drop ins but now all he feels is rejection and this weight he can’t get rid of that start’s clawing at him whenever he sees his brother. The first time Kaeya made eye contact with him after you had told him about your relationship, he simply had a wry smile stating that he hadn’t seen Diluc’s eyes like that since he defected from being a knight. 

He doesn’t hate Kaeya or think Kaeya stole you away from him. Kaeya protects Mondstadt in the day while he does in the night. That’s how they’ve always been. When he sees you out with Kaeya in the morning he stares longingly before quickly disappearing out of sight. 

When his father passed away, Diluc's took a journey that lasted for three years. He had a lot of time to reflect on his past and the anger he had carried until he acknowledged his shortcomings. Those years away let him leave his childish immaturity and when he returned to Mondstadt, he was ready to take on his father’s will one more time. He’s been through this process once before and he’ll push himself to do it again. 

That doesn’t mean that his feelings for you will immediately leave him but he’ll learn to move on and treasure you as a friend, that you’re still in his life. There might be some days when he’s alone that he might think of the what if’s but he’ll take a deep breath, know that you’re happy, and the weight will settle down and become lighter. 

You were friends with Kaeya before you officially met Diluc. You and Kaeya had bonded over drinks and soon became drinking buddies. At first you had been a bit wary of him since he was the Cavalry Captain and thought you had done something wrong, but he really was just interested in talking since he heard you also disliked grape juice. 

Naturally, that meant that he would drop by the tavern with you and one day, Diluc happened to be there and he thought he might officially introduce you two. Maybe poke some fun at Diluc and his distant personality.  

Overtime Kaeya finds that he looks forward to your outings. Hunters and bandits are often his drinking buddies but he’s there to smooth talk them until they end up telling him everything he wants to know. But you’re not a bandit or some spy, he can let his guard down around you and just have a normal conversation without ulterior motives. It feels...nice and he let’s himself slowly relax until he ends up tripping along the way and finds himself falling. 

That is until he makes an unprompted visit to see Diluc only to find that you’re there too. He takes one look at the scene and turns around. He remembers when they were younger and how people would say they were almost like twins, knowing each other’s thoughts and intentions without having to say a word to each other. 

He think’s its some cruel joke you’re playing or maybe the Gods are cursing him over his methods. As he walks down the streets of Mondstadt, he wants to rationalize that the only reason you were so kind to him was to get closer to Diluc. Or maybe you actually were a spy? He’ll laugh to himself for thinking of such a thing as he replays the same scene in his head over and over. 

Everyone's got a secret, but not everyone knows what to do with it, he had told you this with his usual arrogant smirk one night. You were confused at his implication before he shift’s his gaze to where Diluc is. Diluc quickly turns away when you turn your head in his direction. He watches amused as you sputter about how you do not need his help with setting you up with his brother. 

On the contrary, he actually enjoys putting people into the difficult position of making tough decisions. He won’t lie and say that he hasn’t given you false information just to see you come back embarrassed. In a way, these moments are a way for him to slowly let go of his feelings by helping you get yours across. 

Diluc is direct so he’s not surprised when his brother cut’s right to the point early in the morning and asking what he’s trying to do. As Diluc’s hard stare attempts to drill into him for answer’s he thinks back on that same scene. Diluc had looked calm and in a state of content. Peaceful happiness. It’s the same feeling he has when he’s with you. 

He thinks back to another scene. It was the first and only time Kaeya failed in his duty. By the time Kaeya finally reached Diluc, it was all already over. Their father was dead and killed by his own son. 

Kaeya’s own biological father had abandoned him and it was Diluc’s father and Mondstadt that had welcomed him with open arms when he had nowhere else to go. 

Kaeya just smiles at Diluc and remarks in his typical cryptic manner that there will be a time where he won’t know where to stand. He doesn’t know when that time will come but he’ll think of you and where he would want you to be. So until that day comes, he’ll do everything he can to guarantee your safety. He can tell Diluc wants to say something but he holds back. 

To be the first yet placed second, he thinks when you come running up to him to thank him for all his help. He can see Diluc off to the side silently watching and ready to step in and he thinks of the possibilities of what he could do in that moment. Maybe he could confess that he’s been secretly in love with you before you even met Diluc? 

Instead he holds back and repays the favour from earlier in the day. He congratulates you and invites you out to drink in celebration of your new relationship. 

[seijorhi]

hello, i love your writing and was hoping if u could write a yandere kuroo x reader where he corners her in a corner and kenma is there and is getting off from it 😳 thank u !

Asdfghjkl this was supposed to be posted on Sunday I’m sorry, bby!! I hope it’s worth the wait! 💕 also, loved this request so thanks for sending it in 😊

Kuroo Tetsuro x Female Reader, Kenma Kozume x Female Reader

TW dub con, coercion (kinda?), stalking, humiliation

Helping Hand

There’s a certain peace you find in the looming stacks of the library after the sun sets. It’s quieter then, less people milling about. You don’t have to fight for space or books, and considering you have midterms soon and essays coming out of your ears, that makes it the perfect study environment.

It’s only a little after eight, the library’s still open for another two and a half hours, but on the fourth floor it’s almost a ghost town - just how you like it. There’s a professor tucked away in the back corner, piles of books built up around him, an older librarian with her trolley, slowly re-shelving books, and two other guys around your age sitting huddled at a table a few down from yours - the textbooks and highlights spread across their desk having been long since abandoned in favour of literally anything else.

Honestly, you’d wonder why they’d bother coming to the library at all if it wasn’t an almost daily occurrence. Most days you were there, so were they - usually together, although it wasn’t uncommon to see just one of them camped out between the stacks as you made your way to your desk. The duo, one tall and lean with a shock of messy dark hair that always looked like he’d just rolled out of bed, and the other smaller, more reserved, with bleached hair and dark roots in serious need of a touch up, seemed to prefer this time to study too - not that they ever seemed to actually do all that much studying.

Usually the blonde ends up absorbed in his switch while the other casually thumbs through whichever book is closest.

So long as they were quiet and didn’t disturb you, who were you to judge?

You don’t really remember when they’d started to appear, only that they’d quickly become a fixture in your refuge - distantly familiar presences like strangers travelling on the same bus to work each day. They smile (well, the dark haired one does) and nod whenever you happen to look up from your notes and catch their eye, and while you’ve only spoken a handful of words to the both of them, they always seemed nice. 

Nicer than the clearly overworked professor muttering away in the corner at any rate, which makes them the logical choice to approach when you find your bladder uncomfortably full halfway through your self imposed study session. Realistically, you know at this time of the night nobody else is likely to make their way up to the fourth floor, much less have any interest in your shitty, old laptop or the five whole dollars in your wallet - yet you find you making your way over to the twosome’s table anyway, a faint blush dusting across your cheeks.

“… don’t want to,” you overhear the blonde mutter, his attention wholly focused upon the game in his hands. “Things are fine, why change that?”

His friend sighs, “Because you can deny it all you want, but I know you better than that. I know I’m not the only one who wants more. You can’t just sit back and…” he trails off suddenly, hazel eyes flickering over to you in surprise. 

Confused by his friend’s sudden silence, the blonde lowers his game and glances up - only to still at the sight of you.

You swallow down your nerves, plastering what you hope is a friendly enough smile across your face, “Hi, uh… sorry to interrupt you guys, but would you mind watching my stuff for a few minutes while I go to the bathroom? I won’t be long or anything, I just don’t like leaving my stuff out in the open,” you say with a sheepish laugh, well aware that you’re rambling like an idiot. 

It’s the dark haired one who answers, a wide grin breaking across his face as he nods, “Yeah, no worries. We’d be glad to.”

You smile back, ignoring the faint fluttering in your stomach (he does look kind of cute grinning like that), thanking him again before rushing away in the direction of the bathroom.

It doesn’t take long for your thoughts to drift away from the duo back to the essay you’re mid-way through drafting. You have a sinking feeling that the argument you’re trying to use in the fourth paragraph is essentially a just rehash of the point you made in the first. By the time you unlock the stall door and make your way over to the sink to wash your hands, you’re starting to debate the merits of scrapping the whole thing and starting fresh with new ideas.

You still technically have time, it’s not due until the end of the month, but you just kind of want it done so you don’t have to think about it anymore. Then again, that’s kind of your feelings towards the semester as a whole. 

Who are you kidding? University’s kicking your ass this year.

The ancient hand dryer’s almost deafening as it clicks on - it masks the sound door swinging open and the footsteps that echo out from the tile floors.

It’s only when your eyes flicker up to mirror that you see that you’re no longer alone-

Standing right behind you is the guy from before; the tall, dark haired one. 

- and jerk in surprise, stumbling backwards with a choked yelp.

It doesn’t hit you right away - no, that’s relief that has you drawing a hand over your chest and letting out a shaking laugh. “You scared the hell out of me!” you say, bracing yourself over the sink to try and calm your breathing.

No, it doesn’t hit you quickly. Realisation is slow - creeping through your veins like ice as your eyes flicker back up the mirror. 

He hasn’t moved. 

He’s smiling, grinning really, but there’s something… something off about it. It doesn’t quite meet his eyes… Why isn’t he saying anything?

W-why isn’t he moving away?

Your heart, still hammering from his shock of his sudden appearance, squeezes uncomfortably and your eyes slowly widen.

“Wh-”

A rough, calloused palm slaps across your mouth, smothering whatever words you’d been about to speak. “Ah, ah. Gotta keep it down, sweetheart.”

He winks at you in the mirror, taking a tiny step towards you and you squeak, breathing in sharp, shallow pants through your nose as a warm, muscled chest presses against your back. “You’re a nervous little thing, aren’tcha?” he chuckles. “Relax a little - promise I don’t bite.”

With one hand wrapped around your lips the other creeping across your waist, his words don’t exactly bring you a lot of comfort. 

It makes no difference either way - you’re paralysed, shaking and trembling, but utterly unable to move as he noses at the column of your throat, his warm breath tickling your skin.

You could scream, but there’s no guarantee anybody would hear you. You could try and fight him off, but he’s taller than you, and you’re willing to bet stronger as well.

Will he hurt you if you try and resist?

Is he gonna hurt you anyway?

You’ve heard the stories before about men who follow women into empty bathrooms and the awful things they do, but you never...

Those things don’t happen in places like this. The library is supposed to be safe, he- he’s been-

Your stomach drops.

Weeks. 

He’s been visiting the library with his friend, sitting across from you for weeks.

His eyes bore into your reflection in the mirror like he can hear every terrified thought that passes through your head, and with excruciating slowness you’re forced to watch as his lips brush a kiss against your cheek, lingering and sweet - a mockery of tenderness. 

A scared little whimper is all you can manage, and even that is swallowed up by the sound of the bathroom door squeaking open once more. 

Your heart skips a beat, eyes widening.

A faint burst of hope flickers to life.

You might not be a fighter, but this might be the only chance you have. You shriek again, the sound woefully muffled, and writhe against your captor’s tightening grip as slow footsteps round the corner.

Please, you think as tears stream silently down your face. Please help me.

What little hope you have is quickly - brutally - extinguished as your would be saviour steps into view.

Your legs shake and you’re almost positive that if it wasn’t for the strong arms wrapped around you, you would have crumpled to the floor.

It’s his friend, the blonde, hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, watching the scene before him - you struggling against an iron grip, gagged and terrified - like it’s nothing out of the ordinary. 

Your captor chuckles, relaxing his grip as his hand drifts upwards to palm at your breast and you want to die. “Glad you finally decided to grace us with your presence.”

“Shut up, Kuroo,” the blonde groans as he makes his way over, but he barely glances at his friend before his catlike eyes come to rest on you.

Your cheeks are burning, a potent mix of shame, nausea and dread churning in your stomach as you’re crudely felt up, but under the blonde’s attention you freeze.

While his face is a blank mask of apathetic disinterest, those golden irises are piercing in their intensity as they study you.

The glint in his eyes is as unmistakable as it is stark; anticipation - like a house cat watching a golden canary flit restlessly in its cage.

The hiccuping sob comes unbidden, choking at your throat as you wail against the palm at your lips. You’ve never wanted to disappear so badly in your entire life, to slap yourself awake and realise that it’s nothing but a stress induced nightmare because this can’t be happening.

Why you?

What could you possibly have done to deserve this?

“Relax,” Kuroo repeats, leaning down over you again, “we’re not gonna hurt you. Just wanna have some fun, that’s all.” You think he’s going to try and kiss you again, but instead his tongue darts out and he licks at the silvery tear tracks, groaning softly.

You shoot the quiet blonde a desperate, pleading look. He hasn’t lifted a finger to stop what’s happening, hasn’t done anything other than stare at you, but even as his lips twitch into the faintest hint of a smile you hold out on the shadow of a prayer that maybe, just maybe-

Kuroo follows your wide, panicked gaze and almost snorts. “You’re barking up the wrong tree there, baby. Kenma’s not gonna help you. He wants this just as badly as I do.” His thumb slides across your cheek, brushing away more tears, “C’mon, on your knees.”

He doesn’t give you a choice - the hand on your shoulder forces your shaking knees to buckle and you fall down to the bathroom floor.

The tiles are cold against your bare legs, but the shivers that wrack through you have little to do with the temperature. It’s far too late to regret the short skirt you’d thrown on that morning.

Kuroo hums appreciatively, lifting his palm to tap it a few times against your cheek like you’re an adorable little puppy who’s just learned its first trick, “It’s a good look for you, baby, but I think it’d be even better without this-” his fingers tug at the collar of your top and his grin widens, “- in the way.” 

Yet he makes no move to take it off for you. One look into his eyes, the glittering amusement darkened with lewd desire and you know that he won’t.

He wants you to do it, to play along in their fun - to be an active participant in your own humiliation.

And really, what other choice do you have?

It’s impossible to ignore the bulge straining against his jeans as your trembling fingers grip the hem of your top and reluctantly yank it upwards. There’s a sharp inhale - Kuroo you think - and a whistle as it comes off, baring your lacy bra and the soft skin underneath to their hungry gazes. 

Only for a moment. 

Staring resolutely at the floor you’re quick to try and cover what little modesty you have left, bringing your arms up to wrap around your chest-

Except a hand catches at your wrist and tugs it back, and when you glance up you find it’s Kenma’s. 

“… Don’t,” he murmurs. “I want to see you.”

You let your arms drop, hands clenching into shaking fists in your lap, fingernails biting into your palm.

The sound of a zipper being pulled undone is almost deafening in the quiet bathroom. Fresh tears sting at your eyes, but you can’t bear to look at either of them as Kuroo reaches inside his pants and frees his cock.

The hand that cups your cheek is surprisingly gentle as he coaxes your face back towards him and the achingly hard member in his grip. “See Kenma, I told you - change ain’t always a bad thing.”

His dark eyes flicker back to you and he grins, “Open up, sweetheart.”

[makeste]

so let’s talk about the new bak-u-go stuff

hey guys, so long story short, I took all of the bak-u-go stuff out of my weekly liveblog/recap post, and put it into its own separate post so that it didn’t take over the recap completely. so this is my big “all of my thoughts about the second OFA user’s vestige in chapter 304” post, basically.

my opinion going into the chapter

okay so without mincing words, my very controversial stance on this theory going in was more or less, “yes, I do think that maybe that Bakugou-shaped shadow who looks exactly like Bakugou could, in fact, be Bakugou.” not only that, but it strikes me as much more feasible than the alternatives, “Bakugou’s ancestor who looks exactly like him was the second user of OFA for some reason, and Horikoshi keeps hiding his face because... we don’t really know”, or “this is just some random guy with spiky hair, and again his face is being hidden just because.”

like, there is some reason we’re not allowed to know what he looks like, especially at this point. and writing-wise, there are really only three possible explanations for this. (1) it’s a red herring meant to trick us for some reason, (2) his character design hasn’t been completed yet, or (3) something about this character’s appearance is a spoiler, and the reveal is supposed to be a surprise.

regarding (1), I actually think this is the case with the Third. clearly he is not Kirishima as some had speculated. he doesn’t appear to be familiar at all. so if that’s the case, why is his face also being hidden? my theory is that it’s simply to lampshade the fact that the Second is being hidden as well. if Second was the only vestige whose face we couldn’t see, it would be beyond obvious at that point that he was someone familiar to us. having another vestige doing the same weird stuff makes him stand out slightly less.

anyways though, as far as Second himself being a red herring, I guess he could be. but a red herring for what? not to say it isn’t possible, but I don’t really see what the purpose would be.

regarding (2), this is a remote possibility, but imo it would be pretty uncharacteristic of Horikoshi. plus by this point he’s had more than enough time to flesh the design out. all of the other vestige character designs are completed, and we’ve seen all of Second and Third except their fronts and faces by this point. so I’m gonna go out on a limb and say this isn’t the reason.

which leaves (3): this character’s identity is important in some way, and is being purposely kept secret. this to me implies that it must be someone we know (because otherwise it wouldn’t be a spoiler). which basically means that no matter what, the possibilities are about to get weird.

my thoughts on the new “evidence” in the chapter

first off, my biggest impression is that there really isn’t much new evidence at all either way lol. but okay, let’s review what we got.

I’m ignoring Third at this point because I honestly have no idea who he is. he may very well be someone we haven’t met yet, so I don’t think there’s much point in speculating. so let’s focus on Second instead.

the hair

first off, his hair isn’t quite right to be Bakugou’s. it’s darker than Bakugou’s hair usually is, at least in the close-up, and also the hair on the nape of his neck doesn’t quite look right; it’s got more of an undercut vibe than Bakugou’s usually does. Bakugou’s hair is usually more out-of-control dandelion puff from the back.

so yeah, I’m not sold by this image. though on the other hand, I will say that as far as the argument that his hair is too dark, that’s undermined by the wide angle panel right before the close-up in which his hair isn’t colored in at all.

so yeah, it could just be something about the lighting in the close-up. also, the RHA scan seems to have upped the contrast a bit more than the original image.

here it doesn’t seem to be quite as dark compared to the wall he’s standing against. I could be wrong, though; we’ll get a better idea when the official version is released in a couple days.

but overall the style of the hair seems more off to me than the color. on the whole, I’m not really convinced either way here, so I’ll move on.

the rest of him

okay so first off, obviously this is not Bakugou’s current hero costume in any way, shape or form. honestly my first thought was “what is Shippuuden-era Naruto doing here in the OFA Mystical Space Land” lol. so yeah, no idea what that’s all about.

however he does have gauntlets! so this is definitely someone with some sort of arm or hands-related quirk. and Kacchan does have a new gauntlet design that we’ll see in movie 3, so it’s not outside the realm of possibility that these could be another new design along those lines. that said, these are clearly not his current big ugly grenade-style gauntlets.

last but not least, this person seems older than Bakugou, which for me makes me considerably less enthused about the possibilities here, since I’m a weirdo who likes the idea of a timeskip even less than most people seem to like the idea of time travel, lol. then again there really isn’t much here to support that “he seems older” statement; that’s just the general vibe I get from him, idk.

I will say though that he has Kacchan’s same triangle-shaped torso with the same broad shoulders and upper back tapering down into a more slender build. that stuck out to me right away when I looked at this image. but he really does give off Naruto vibes as well lol, like I can’t unsee it sob.

anyway, and last but not least,

the hidden faces

because so far most of the attention seems to be on their appearances. but those aside, this chapter introduces a very interesting question that this mystery will have to address one way or the other. namely, why are these two vestiges turned around and not interacting with the others?

“so that we can’t see their faces, duh” -- no, I get that, lol. but let’s talk in-story explanation now. why are they huddled in the time-out corner not moving or speaking? what could possibly be the reason for that. we can see them clearly enough, so we know that they’re “unlocked” and fully formed in that sense. All Might’s vestige is the only one that’s not yet visible, and supposedly that’s because he was quirkless?? and so he didn’t have a quirk factor that could be passed down through OFA initially. though I didn’t quite understand all of that part tbh.

but so then what’s the deal with these two losers? are they just antisocial or what? OFA First says that the vestige souls which were chilling out inside of OFA gradually gained the ability to take a physical form as OFA grew more powerful. and these two clearly have taken a physical form. so then why don’t they talk? there are only a few explanations for this that I can see.

(1) it could be that these guys are still alive, just like All Might (who doesn’t seem to be able to speak either, although the other vestiges can communicate with him in other ways).

(2) or, these guys are purposely hiding from Deku for some reason. (or at least, hiding as best as they can in this weird little rock slab floating in space.)

that’s it. if anyone else can think of more possibilities let me know because I’ve been sitting here racking my brain lol. this is all I can come up with. and honestly, either of these explanations would be suspicious as hell, theory-wise. if these two vestiges are still alive, that almost guarantees time travel right there. and if it’s simply that they’re hiding themselves from Deku, then that begs the question of why. which, again, leads us back to “they’re familiar, and Deku would recognize them.” (though that last bit goes against what I was saying earlier about the Third, doesn’t it. honestly I’m just spitballing here now, I haven’t really thought this all out too thoroughly.)

soooo... yeah. that’s pretty much where I’m at. nothing about this seems to make any more sense than it did a chapter ago tbh. though I will end this post by addressing one more thing, just cuz.

“this theory is dumb and makes no sense”

the correct statement to make here isn’t “this makes no sense”; it’s “we don’t know what’s going on yet.” if and when we finally get an explanation, then we can start making judgments about how much sense it does or doesn’t make. but until then we have nothing to base that verdict on.

same thing with “it’s dumb” -- look, “I hate time travel plots because they rarely work” is a valid opinion. but “rarely” isn’t the same thing as “never.” there are good time travel plots out there. idk why everyone keeps rolling with the assumption that this is going to be some cliche plot hole-filled science fiction bs narrative with a tragic ending. we have literally nothing to base that on. we have no answers and a whole lot of questions, is what we have.

maybe it will be disproven! or maybe it won’t, and it will be exactly as awful as everyone thinks and it will ruin the manga entirely. or maybe it will actually be really cool. we don’t know yet. that’s my one and only conclusion here -- that we shouldn’t jump to conclusions. but then again I guess it wouldn’t be BnHA fandom if we didn’t. anyway so thus concludes my post.

[local-ground-apple]

hiiiiiiiiiii! can i request smth soft with vil and a gender neutral s/o? u can do whatever format works best! i just want some kisses 🥺🥺🥺🥺

I think this is my first soft Vil so far If you want more kisses Mac, I did kissing headcanons 

Vil’s judgemental look would be enough to make anyone shiver in fear and refrain from their proposition.

Everyone apart from you and maybe Rook.

,,Come on, I can guarantee that you will absolutely love it!”

Your voice was beaming with joy and excitement, your eyes were filled with anticipation and eagerness and Vil was more than displeased to crash all your hopes with simple yet powerful “no”.

,,No”

,,Even if I show this beautiful, tailor-made apron just for you?”

Your playful voice didn’t contradict your bright smile, when you pulled out a stunning, indigo apron with intricate gold design, which looked practically like his dorm uniform. Vil only hoped you hadn’t destroyed your uniform just to sew this for him. You better not.

,,I’m not baking with you potato. We will only get dirty, although I must admit that you did a fairly decent job with sewing this apron”

Vil’s indifferent voice and “tired of your antics” face didn’t cool down your excitement nor determination. His slender fingers gently touched the soft fabric, inspecting carefully your needlework as if he was looking for any flaws to pinpoint them.

,,It’s just baking, you won’t get dirty. I can assure you Vil”

You bluntly lied straight into his face, but from the raised eyebrow and disbelief written all over his handsome face, you knew Vil wouldn’t be tricked easily. He had seen you in the Pomefiore kitchen with Epel once.

Once was clearly enough.

Let’s just say, he entered in the worst possible time.

 ,,It’s way easier than anticipated”

You remarked and Epel only hummed in agreement, not stopping to sieve the flour. You were carefully peeling off the apples and then cutting them into small slices. Everything was going smoothly.

Well, until Epel sneezed right into the flour, scattering it around whole kitchen and well, you. You blinked, coughing when the white dust hit your face. It was all over you both. In your hair, lips, apron and even clothes. You looked so done when your eyes fell on the white as snow counter.

,,Vil will kill us”

,,Possibly”

You sighed and watched in fear when a smirk spelling a catastrophe crept on Epel’s rosy lips. He clearly entered the mood you were afraid of. You didn’t even have time to blink when he threw the cinnamon at you, which landed perfectly on your cheek.

,,YOU’RE IN IT APPLE BOY”

“WE’LL SEE ABOUT THAT”

Let’s just say Vil was concerned about the yells coming from the kitchen. When he labelled the voices as yours and Epel’s, he was more than concerned. Vil could never admit, yet he often was jealous of your friendship with fellow first year student.

However, Vil wasn’t ready to encounter the absolute mess he walked on. You were covered in flour, cinnamon and small apple pieces were scattered in your dishevelled hair. Epel wasn’t looking any better, in fact even worse. The sticky apple muss was smeared over his uniform vest and cinnamon was sprinkled all over his pale face.

The uniforms were wrecked, remarked Vil, mentally noting that you would need a new one.

You both hadn’t seen him, clearly too engaged in your small yet brutal war. You were determined to absolutely destroy Epel who was ferociously throwing food at you.

And that was the biggest mistake in your whole life.

You both turned around when you heard a rather loud splash of apple piece followed by an even louder and angrier yell which escaped Vil’s lips.

,,Oh shit”

Those were your last words before you embraced your death proceeded by long scolding and restraining order against Epel.

 ,,We hit you on accident and I swear this time I won’t be throwing food around”

You promised eagerly, while Vil only crossed his arms on his chest, eyeing you with suspicion written all over him. Maybe you won’t be throwing any food around, yet just the mere thought of baking wasn’t pleasant.

It was bound to get messy either way and Vil was sure you would accidentally spill something on you both or destroy his perfectly combed hair. He knew it. You’ve been the careless spirit who rarely payed attention to your actions. You, Epel plus kitchen were such a mighty combo that even Vil had to admit the power of destruction radiating from you two.

Besides, he was on diet. Vil didn’t want to torture himself with baking sweets that he wasn’t even supposed to eat in the first place.

Yet, didn’t you look absolutely dazzling in loose ponytail with lost strands adorning your face which was lit up by a bright smile? Weren’t you going to put all your efforts into creating something beautiful? Wasn’t that apron absolutely stunning and well-crafted as well?

Vil looked at your pouting face and he was slowly begin to give in.

Slowly.

All it took was the final push to get him to agree.

,,Well, I can always ask Epel if you don’t want too. We would make a healthy cake perfect for your diet”

You said, shrugging as if it really didn’t matter to you with whom you would be baking. Vil was quick to react. He practically snatched the apron from your hands, putting it on himself in span of few seconds. He passive-aggressively tied his hair into a perfect ponytail and stood before you, impatiently tapping his feet.

,,Well, I’m waiting potato”

Vil’s voice was practically dripping with annoyance and you could swear that you had seen jealousy flashing in his eyes. You giggled, clearly amused and pleased with his reaction. You threw your hands on his neck, burying your head in his chest. A tad confused and startled by your reaction Vil wrapped his hands around you, bringing you closer. A soft smile adorned his beautiful face as his hands gently run down your spine.

,,You’re so cute”

“I prefer handsome or dazzling, potato”

,,Naah”

You tiptoed and leaned in, staring at his violet eyes. You pressed your lips gently to Vil’s soft ones in brief kiss, before you quickly pulled away. Before Vil even had a chance to pull you closer again, you had already turned around and grabbed the flour.

,,Let’s start baking!~~”

…

,,MY HAIR POTATO, WHAT DID YOU DO ?”

,,It was an accident?”

,,NO, IT WASN’T”

You could swear you had heard a chuckle behind the door which sounded too similar to Rook’s voice, but you quickly dismissed that having a bigger and more grave problem standing before you.

Vil was….hmm….irritated wouldn’t be enough to describe what he was feeling. 

He was furious.

Within the span of few seconds, you had managed to repeat the same Epel’s mistake, sending rather considerable amount of flour into Vil’s perfect hair and face. If looks could kill, then his piercing, icy glare would have successfully swept you from Earth.

You were dead anyway, so why not have your own fun in it?

If that’s how you were supposed to die, then may it be.

You gently pressed the spoon dripping  with melted, dark chocolate to Vil’s cheek earning another yelp and glare from him. His hands even rushed to stop you, but you gracefully dodged his futile attempt. You giggled at the mere sight of chocolate smeared over his perfect skin.

,,Looks like you have something on your face, Vil. I think I should kiss it away”

Before Vil even started to offend you in potato, you pressed your lips to his cheeks, tasting the chocolate.

,,Disgusting”

Remarked Vil when you finally pulled away, yet his eyes and bright, playful smile told you otherwise.

,,Do it again, potato”

[collecting-stories]

Ten Years - JJ Maybank

Request: could u write something abt y/n and jj who have been together since they were like 12 and just make it super fluffy🥰

A/N: so there wasn’t really like, a full plot request so I just kinda went with this...hope you like it!

Outer Banks Masterlist

♡ ♡ ♡ ♡

JJ stood in the entrance to the dressing room, phone in hand as he texted back and forth with Pope and swiped through different online stores. He was shirtless, wearing a pair of actual trousers, a far cry from the cheap ones he used to wear when he bused tables at the island club. He was supposed to be trying on different suits but it’d taken you an hour just to get him into these pants, you couldn’t imagine how the rest of the shopping trip was going to go. 

“Matching sweatshirts?” JJ asked, holding his phone out to show you a picture of dorky matching sweatshirts that said ‘player 1’ and ‘player 2’ respectively.  

You fought the urge to roll your eyes as you rubbed a hand against your forehead and took a deep breath. You should have known that trying to shop would go south with JJ. “I love you so much but there is no way in hell I’m wearing matching sweatshirts with you.” 

“I can’t believe you’re not gonna wear matching sweatshirts with me.” JJ whined, pulling his phone away to send the picture to Pope. “I’m gonna get a new girlfriend who will.”   

“Ask Pope.”

“I am.” He replied, continuing to text.  

“Not right now JJ! You’re supposed to be getting a suit anyway, not standing around on your phone shopping for cheesy sweatshirts.” You sighed, finally standing up from the ottoman that was available for seating outside the dressing room. You tried to grab his phone from him but he slid away, socked feet gliding on the laminated floor. He backed further into the dressing area, toward the stall you’d ushered him into earlier.  

“What if you didn’t have to wear it out?” He asked, holding his phone out of reach when you tried to grab it again. As much as you enjoyed the sight of JJ in nothing but a pair of nice pants, and you did enjoy the sight quite a lot, he was starting to get on your last nerve. Especially when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you against him, still holding the phone away with his other hand.  

“So what I’m just gonna walk around our house wearing a sweatshirt?” You asked. The little blue ranch house that you and JJ were renting on the cut was set back a little from the road but it wasn’t entirely void of neighbors. Not to mention the amount of times any of the pogues dropped in without warning. When you looked up at him you realized his eyes had glazed over, pupils dilated as he stared, completely unashamed, right down the front of your tank top. “JJ!”

“What...you in only a sweatshirt? Let’s skip all this and go straight to the honeymoon.” He suggested, grinning as he leaned in to kiss you.  

You let him, though you finally gave in to the eyeroll as he pulled away from you. It was like trying to corral a child into doing something. “Not exactly doing the big tent wedding here J. Now pick a suit.” 

“But if you don’t have to go out?” He whined, mind still on his stupid sweatshirt idea. You’d never matched clothes before and you’d heard him on more than one occasion mock couples who did, so why he was suddenly interested in the cheesy tradition was beyond you.  

“Oh my god, buy the sweatshirt, please.” You groaned, stepping completely away and heading back out of the dressing room, “but finish trying on suits first!”  

“Love you!” 

Your mom wanted a big wedding with all the people she was friends with invited as well as family members none of you had even seen in your lifetime but you had refused. It felt silly to do the big white wedding, silly and costly and not like you and JJ at all. The money saved for it had been spent on converting a VW bus that was a nicer version of the Twinkie, that he had parked out front of the house you’d been renting together since you turned nineteen.  

Still, even without the wedding, you wanted a semi-nice dress and him in a suit when the two of you went to City Hall at the end of the week to get married.  

Married. You were waiting for the word to make you feel different but so far it just felt normal. Like it was just supposed to happen.  

-

“Why are your eyes covered?” You laughed, walking into the living room to see JJ standing there in his suit with his hands covering his eyes. He’d obviously just been smoking before you came in because his juul was still in his hand too, trapped between his fingers.  

“I don’t wanna see you before the wedding!” He exclaimed.  

“You’re driving,” You laughed, grabbing at his hands. When you pulled them away he had his eyes shut. “JJ, open your eyes.” 

He opened one eye and then the other, slowing smiling as he took in the sight of you in the simple white dress, you’d picked out with Sarah a few weeks ago. It’d been sitting wrapped up in the closet so he couldn’t see it without you in it. “You look really beautiful.” He finally said, kissing you. “You’d look even more beautiful in matching sweatshirts.” JJ teased.  

“Oh my god JJ. I’m not wearing matching sweatshirts to get married.” You replied, taking the juul from him so you could put it away.  

“Then I guess the dress works.”

“Wow thanks.” You laughed.

Before you could walk away from him JJ grabbed your arm, drawing your attention back to him. “Hey, before we go-“

“We have like thirty minutes to get there.” You said, cutting him off. There was no way the two of you were going to make it in time.  

“It’ll be quick, promise.”

“What?” 

“I know we’re not doing vows but I didn’t exactly get any points for a romantic proposal either...considering. So I just wanted to say something before we leave, without everyone else around.”   

JJ’s ‘proposal’ had come about on a Tuesday morning. It wasn’t romantic, there wasn’t even a ring picked out yet. Instead JJ had been sitting on the other side of the island, trying to steal pieces of bacon off of Pope’s plate while he was in the bathroom, when you told him that your mom was giving you a hard time about the two of you living together.  

Your mom’s favorite words were ‘just a phase’ when she talked about you and JJ. It was just a phase that you were going through that had you attracted to someone she viewed as a ‘bad boy’ in every cliched sense of the term. Though you highly doubted at 22 that it was a phase. Especially when you’d spent the last ten years basically dating. Since the 6th grade winter formal when JJ asked you to dance with him.  

“She said ‘once you get out from under that roof you’ll see’ and I told her that I’m never moving. We’re gonna like get married and get a cat and have windchimes like Lana.” You had said, smacking JJ’s hand, “stop eating Pope’s food.”

“He abandoned it.” JJ pointed out.

“He’s in the bathroom, stop it.” You said, waving the spatula at him. “Anyway...she just...” you groaned, “I can’t stand when she does that like. We’re not in highschool anymore. Why can’t she drop the whole ‘this is temporary’ thing like...do you see these four walls? Not temporary.”

“Marry me?”

“What?” You froze, spatula in hand, staring at him in surprise.  

“Marry me.” He shrugged. “You said it yourself, this isn’t temporary. So, marry me.”

The wedding day, though it wasn’t really a wedding, had come quicker than the two of you had expected and now, if you weren’t out the door in five minutes, you knew that you’d be late. JJ was an erratic driver but nothing would get you to the other side of the island on time.  

“You’re gonna make me cry before we even get to the courthouse?” You asked, already feeling yourself get teared up. “That’s mean JJ.”

“I just want you to know,” He started to say, trying not to laugh when he realized you were starting to cry, “hey, come on...I didn’t even say anything yet.”

“I know, I know I just-” you looked up at the ceiling and blinked a few times, “oh god this mascara isn’t waterproof.”

“We’ll survive if your makeup doesn’t stay intact.” He promised.  

“JJ!” You laughed. “Okay fine, go, I won’t cry. I just...won’t look at you.”  

“You’re ridiculous.” 

“Just say the thing.” You insisted, waving your hand for him to go ahead.  

“When I asked you to marry me it was spur of the moment but it wasn’t just something I said because I thought it’d be fun or cute or whatever. We’ve been through...hell...together and I know how hard it's been and there isn’t any guarantee that it won’t be hard-”

“That sounds awesome,” you laughed but JJ could already hear the slight crack in your voice.  

“-shut up. You never let me finish anything.”  

“I do too!”

“You literally just interrupted me trying to be nice and tell you something romantic.”

“I’m sorry...go ahead.”

“No, the moment’s ruined.” JJ shrugged, grabbing his backpack off the table so that the two of you could leave.

You grabbed JJ’s hand, trying to pull him back toward the middle of the living room and away from the door, “no finish, tell me!”

“Fine, fine. You’re such a brat.” He laughed, “I was gonna say-”

The door opened and you groaned as Pope stuck his head in, “yo...guys, lets go.”  

“Hold on!” You whined and JJ wrapped his arms around you, holding you close and kissing your forehead.

“I’ll tell you later, while we’re in our matching sweatshirts.”

“Unbelieveable.”

-

taglist: @maplelattes22 @poguesrforlife  @freckled-and-daydreaming  @chasefreakinstokes @millie-753 @fangirlwithme @alex12948 @katherine097 @tangledinsparkles @carbonated-beverage @mariofgreengables @damonsalvawhore27 @dopedoodes @dolanfivsosxox @belledutchess @poguelifeeee @faded-blue @parkerpetertingle @thebookwormlife @summer-clouds-and-long-days @jellyfishbeansontoast @minigranger @hoewkeye @love-someone-special @tiredfeels @strangerthanfanfiction713 @the-only-nana @tomzfrog @mozz-are-lla @vindictive-hearts @poguestyleskye @ssprayberrythings @jenahbell @beautyandthebleh @gothackedalready @teenwaywardasgardian @sarahcxmeron @haha-fuck-you-thot @stillbelieve398-5 @rewindlr @queenniccimicci @kissessforharryyy @thedarkqueenofavalon @alytavzla @bqmblebee @linniep @nerdypartytrashpsychic @xxchxrryxx @spencer-reid-is-a-cutie @mirjanak @danielladreaming @obx-saltlife @youngestxhearts @spnobsessedmemes @wowitswondergurl @celestialmaybank @mybnkjj @pineappleandcherries @mysterious-adventurer @justawilddreamerchild @rhyetaylor62 @calm-rejects @balletandyuzu @oh-annaa @aiifandomsunite @x-lulu @ceruleanjj  @wicked-laugh @obxwriterfan @allie-mcginn @pcterparxer @literarycharleton @khiaraaa-in-spacee @crushe-s @teamnick @daydreamlilys @collectiveuniverses @activist-af @mdgrdians @buckys-sunflower @vindictive-hearts @copper-boom @talksoprettyjjx @5am-cigarette @smiithys @dontjinx-it @outerbanksbro @mysticsthinking @heavenlymama  @rudy-pankow-needs-an-oscar @babymatilda @raekenliar @jolomez @timotaychalabae  @summerkaulitz 

[voiceless-terror]

okokokok jongerrymartin prompt!!!! jon is having a Very Bad Not Good Day, and his two spouses come give him hugs!!! lots of sleepy happy cuddles until he feels ok :) hope u have a good day!!

Got in the mood to finished the promised jongerrymartin, so here you are! Just soft husbands in a no-powers AU where Jon gets some desperately needed love. Hope you like!

Jon threw his bag against the wall, an exhausted sigh on his lips. “Sorry I’m late.”

“S’alright. Dinner’s in the fridge.”

Gerry’s curled up on the couch, a worn paperback novel in his hands. He looks so cozy, like he’s been there for hours. He probably has. They usually have dinner around six most days and it’s nine right now. He can hear the shower running- must be Martin. It’s so achingly domestic. The two of them work all day at the bookshop, trading off the evening shift so they can have dinner together. Dinner that Jon never makes it too. He feels jealous only for a moment before it turns into guilt. What right does he have to be upset? He’s the one who comes home late, who spends more time at work than he does with his spouses. It would be inevitable that they’d grow apart, that Martin and Gerry would naturally become closer. It wouldn’t be anyone’s fault but his own.

He must have been standing in the doorway for far too long, as Gerry looks up from his book with a concerned glance. “You alright, love?”

Jon feels his face heat up at the name and tries in vain to stop a sniffle from escaping. “M’fine.”

Gerry gives him a dubious look. “No you’re not. C’mere.” He opens his arms and Jon makes his way over, falling into them with another sigh. He hides his face in Gerry’s worn t-shirt, trying to leech any warmth he can get. “God, you’re tense,” Gerry remarks as he runs a hand down his back. “What did Bouchard do today?”

“Nothing,” Jon replies, the answer muffled as he refuses to relinquish his spot on Gerry’s chest. “It’s my fault, really. I’ve got deadlines and I’m not meeting them. Need to put in a bit more work.”

“Jon, you’re there every night,” Gerry sounds exasperated, a tone that’s used by most people when it comes to Jon. “You don’t even get overtime. Can’t Tim and Sasha help?”

“It’s not their problem,” he tries to explain, lifting his face to meet Gerry’s eyes. It’s hard to look at them, so full of unwarranted worry and care. It’s almost enough to make him tear up again.

“They’re your assistants. You should let them assist you.”

Jon hears the shower stop; Martin will be out soon. He has to get his emotions under control, he’s acting like a child. That’s the last thing the two of them need at the end of the day.

“I might have to work this weekend-”

“No. Not again.” Gerry sits them up, giving him a stern and slightly angry gaze. Jon moves back instinctively, though he doesn’t mean to flinch.

“I-I’m sorry,” he starts, getting a bit choked up. Damn it. He casts his eyes to the ground as if it’ll help control the tears. “I know I haven’t been the best partner as of late, but it’s been r-really hard at work and I’m t-trying-”

“That’s not what I meant,” Gerry’s voice immediately quiets, his eyes going soft. He runs a hand down Jon’s side and he shivers at the touch. “Of course we miss you, but we’re more worried about you. You’re always stuck at work, Martin’s going around making phantom cups of tea-”

“I’m sorry.”

“Hush, don’t apologize.” Gerry pulls him close again, the touch grounding him. “It’s just- you’re wasting away, Bouchard’s running you ragged. You’ve got to push back against those deadlines, it’s not like the archive’s going anywhere. I know you look up to the man but really, it isn’t right what he’s got you doing-”

“I heard unnecessary apologies. Is Jon home?”

Jon looks up to see Martin in the hallway with his flannel pajamas on, running a hand through damp hair. He must look a mess because Martin’s face instantly falls. “Oh, Jon.” The tender way he says his name restarts the tears in earnest.

“G-God, I’m sorry, I’m sorry-”

“Jon-” Martin’s settling against his back and he can feel that comforting warmth on all sides now. And yet he still can’t control the panic of having disappointed his partners, the only ones who care enough to help him when he’s like this.

“S-Sorry. I mean-” He clenches his jaw and squeezes his eyes shut. “God, I hate that I get like this, I don’t mean to- to be-” Jon can feel his fingers digging into his palms, filling in the familiar crescent-shaped indents from times before. 

“Hey, what did we say about that?” Gerry’s got his hands around his, gently but firmly uncurling them until his palm lays flat. Martin hisses in sympathy at the sight of the inflamed red marks.

“Sorry,” Jon whispers out again, before wincing at the word choice. “I’m- I’m always so dramatic. I don’t know how you two stand it.”

“Okay, one, I love your drama,” Martin insists, giving him a gentle kiss on the top of his head. “But that’s not what this is. Elias is taking advantage of you, and that’s not okay. You see that, right?”

Jon shakes his head. They don’t understand- he didn’t deserve this promotion, and now he’s got to prove that he’s worth the trouble. Elias is trying to help him, not hurt him. It’s just going to take a bit of extra work, a few busy weekends. Elias assured him that once everything was up and running, he’d be able to relax. Never mind that it’s been months- he has no frame of reference for how long these things take. Elias would know. 

“It’s my job,” he whispers, leaning back into Martin's chest in an attempt to get him to play with his hair. It works. “It’s what’s expected.”

“Did you forget I used to work there?” Gerry’s doing that thing again, massaging Jon’s hands in a way that’s guaranteed to make him melt. “And I have spies on the inside. You do not have a healthy work environment.”

“I wish you wouldn’t gossip with Tim and Sasha,” Jon mumbles, his eyes half-closed in contentment. It’s hard to stay awake when faced with this much tenderness. “Very unprofessional.”

“That’s one thing I’ve never claimed to be.”

“You know,” Martin starts lightly, as if what he’s about to suggest hasn’t been said a million times before. “You could always work at the shop with Gerry and me. We could use your help with the remodeling. You can organize the new non-fiction section!”

“We’ll even let you put the poetry section in the back, by the toilet-”

“We will not.”

The banter is comfortable and familiar. Jon smiles. “Would be nice.”

Martin does that dreamy sigh of his as his fingers gently run through Jon’s hair. “Reckon it would.” 

“In the meantime,” Gerry yawns and leans back against the cushions, though he doesn’t let go of Jon’s hands. “Could always call Gertrude. We didn’t part on the best of terms, but she’d never miss a chance to put the fear of God in Elias Bouchard.”

Jon snorts, though the idea isn’t half-bad. “That’s unnecessary.” He settles back against Martin, reveling in the quiet peace of the evening. It’s the first time he’s relaxed all week. Perhaps he won’t go into work on Saturday, maybe he’ll just lie here forever. He pretends not to hear Martin whisper ‘Do it!’ and closes his eyes as Gerry pulls out his phone and begins to text. 

It’s nice, being at home. He should do this more often.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27999294

[smolfoxbab]

okay here’s the Narumitsu angst (with a happy ending)

its my blog and i get to choose the hyperfixation to post about

((1,830 words //tw for injury + blood// hope u enjoy!))

Phoenix Wright wasn’t the type of person to make enemies. At least, not on his own. His selfless nature and optimistic personality made him a likable man to be around, even if he was often clumsy and oblivious at times. However, being a defense attorney was a different circumstance, one that brought a certain set of unspoken dangers with it. In proving his client’s innocence, the guilty verdict was placed onto another. While most of these people posed no threat behind the bars of their sentences, there was no guarantee a grudge wouldn’t push them to seek vengeance.

Miles Edgeworth had plenty of experience with this concept already. He was a prosecutor-- The Demon Prosecutor. Among the death threats and various other attempts on his life, he was all too aware of the risks that came with his job. But he had learned to shoulder them, right alongside the other burdens he carried. He also knew that Phoenix didn’t consider these things, didn’t consider his own safety as much as he considered others. Concussed, tazed, nearly drowned and beaten to a pulp in an infamously deadly river... none of it seemed to phase him. He never slowed in his pursuit for protecting others, and that... that concerned Miles more than anything.

“You need to be more careful, Wright,” he had said once in passing after a trial where a guilty offender nearly wrung Phoenix by the neck, the defense attorney standing just a little too close when the verdict was handed down.

“One of these days something... serious, might happen to you, and you won’t be able to just laugh it off.”

Phoenix only flashed him that dopey grin and said, “I’ll be fine, Edgeworth. For an unlucky guy, I’m pretty lucky.”

Miles wanted to believe that, truly. The man seemed to get off easy in dire situations more often than not, so perhaps he had a point behind his foolish reasoning. Even so, his worry lingered. Luck always tended to run out at some point.

---

Then one afternoon, his phone rang. He had already been driving towards Phoenix’s office, having been called over earlier on the premise of having an “important discussion.” He’d left as quickly as he could, but the traffic seemed to determined to keep him from reaching his destination. It was slow, and he seemed to be hitting every red light possible. It was at one of these prolonged red lights, as he sat impatiently tapping the steering wheel, that a familiar tune sounded off in his pocket. Sighing, he slipped his phone out and checked the screen, not too surprised to see Phoenix was the one calling. Forgot to tell him something in the first call, most likely. He hit “answer” and brought the device up to his ear.

“What is it, Wright.”

There was a raspy breath on the other end before Phoenix spoke, his voice just as hoarse.

“M-Miles, I... I-I uh...”

Miles’ brow furrowed, and he found himself straightening in his seat, grip tightening on the phone.

“Wright? Is something wrong?”

There was another breath, followed by a rather nasty sounding cough. There was then a sound that could have been a laugh, if it wasn’t so strained.

“Ah... s-something like that... I w-was trying to call... hhhah... I guess it d-doesn’t mmmatter... a-are you almost... here?”

The light turned green, and Miles pressed on the gas. Harder than he should have, perhaps, but he was uneasy now.

“Yes, I am. What is it, Wright? What happened?”

There was a grunting sound, and the rustle of paper. 

“W-well... fffunny story, ah... there was s-ssomeone at the door and it t-turns out it wasn’t... w-wasn’t you and ahm... shit-”

The hiss was sharp and pained. Miles turned a corner a bit too hastily, nearly catching a street sign as he swung around it. Before he could say anything, Phoenix continued.

“I’m not... I’m nnnot doing too hot, Miles... It’s getting... k-kind of hard to... focus...”

Miles clenched his jaw, trying to hold his composure. He was on the final stretch of road, he just had to get there.

“Stay with me, Wright. Stay on the phone. Do you hear me?”

“Yeah...” came the reply, but the strength in it was fading, “yeah... Miles...?”

“I’m here, Wright.”

He turned into the office parking lot as he said that, haphazardly parking and exiting the car in record time.

“.....what I w-wanted to... tell you... I... I love... you.”

Miles’ breath hitched as he ascended the steps. He would’ve have stopped completely if not for the adrenaline fueling his movement. A lump formed in his throat, which he heavily swallowed as he pressed on. Damn it, why now did he- Damn that man. 

“J-Just hold on, Wright. I’m coming up on the door now. Wright? Wright?”

Silence filled the other end of the line as he approached the door, which sat unlocked and ajar. A red smear stained the door handle, while more splashes led across the floor and deeper inside. Miles only hesitated a moment before flinging the door open, rapidly searching the room for the other man. It didn’t take long.

The defense attorney was slumped against a bookshelf near his desk, various papers and books scattered around him, along with his still lit up phone. He wasn’t moving. Miles sucked in a breath as he practically slid to Phoenix’s side, one hand clasping his shoulder while the other went to check his pulse. Thankfully, he could still feel it, though it was weakening.

“Wright? ...Phoenix, can you hear me?”

He tried to get some kind of response, lightly shaking his shoulder, but got nothing. He shifted his gaze downward, where he couldn’t help but spot the dark stain soaking underneath his jacket. He lifted the blue fabric slightly, trying to get some assessment of the damage. It looked too wide a tear to be a gun wound. A stabbing seemed more likely.

“Damn it. Damn you,” Miles cursed under his breath, shucking his jacket off and moving to put pressure on the wound. He set to call the authorities at the same time, his now-shaking hand nearly dropping the phone entirely. He stared at the unconscious man before him as the phone rang, mumbling to himself before the responder picked up,

“If you die, you fool, I’ll... I’ll bring you back and kill you again myself.”

Emergency services responded quickly, and an ambulance was sent with haste. The police force arrived as well, with the ever-diligent Gumshoe heading the charge. Ever-diligent, and ever-emotional, as the detective seemed to blast through one emotion after the next while Phoenix was being prepped for the drive to the hospital. Miles was given the assurance as he boarded the ambulance himself that, no matter what, the culprit wouldn’t get away with it. In the tense silence of the ride that followed, Miles let that statement repeat in his head- let it hold him together. They wouldn’t get away with this. He would see to it personally... Once he was assured that Phoenix was going to make it out of this alive.

---

Several hours of absolutely nerve-wracking waiting in the hospital lobby followed after, but all well worth it when he was informed that Phoenix was in stable condition. That didn’t stop him from nearly throwing the recovery room door off its hinges upon arrival, however. He needed to see it for himself, confirm with his own eyes that the other was alive. 

A tired smile greeted him from the bed.

“Hey Edgeworth...”

Miles stood in the doorway for a moment, silent and stiff. Then, slowly, he drew in a breath, let his shoulders relax, and stepped inside with the door closing behind him.

“Wright.”

Phoenix winced at the tone of Miles’ voice, like a child about to be lectured by his parent.

“Look, before you get m-”

“You are an absolute moron, Phoenix Wright. I mean really of all the idiotic- Not only do you call me as you’re bleeding out, rather than contact the authorities-”

Phoenix attempted to interject.

“To be fair I was actually trying to call the-”

But Miles didn’t let him finish.

“But then you have the gall to go and declare- to tell me that you- in such a dire circumstance you decide to claim-”

“Miles-”

“Not seconds before I walk in on what could have well been a murder scene- And what would I have done then? Knowing you had said such a thing before I could even have a chance to process it let alone-”

“Miles if... if you don’t feel the same I-”

“Reciprocate.”

Both of them fell silent then. Phoenix, slack-jawed and staring straight at Miles while the prosecutor locked his gaze to the floor, feeling the heat begin to burn in his cheeks. Phoenix blinked rapidly, beginning to flush a bit himself despite his currently paler complexion.

“Y-y-you mean you-”

Edgeworth huffed and turned towards him, closing the distance between himself and the bed before closing the distance between the two of them. It was an impulsive kiss, and not the one either of them imagined would be their first, but it was real. Phoenix was real, and still here, returning the kiss like it was the most natural thing in the world. A wince and a hiss broke the moment though, Phoenix pulling back to sink into the mattress he’d started to push off of. Miles pulled back hastily, rubbing at his arm with an awkward clearing of his throat.

“A-apologies, I didn’t mean to-”

“No, no- my fault, really. And look I... I’m sorry for worrying you and... how I said that really wasn’t how I meant to go about it-”

Miles cut him off again before he could start losing himself in his rambling.

“I... I know, Wright. I would be far more concerned if your plan had been to confess to me by having a near death experience.”

Phoenix chuckled nervously and looked elsewhere, giving Miles the chance to take up the seat next to his bedside.

“Yeah that’s... a little far out there... even for me. But Miles, you really...?”

Phoenix looked back with a start as Miles took his hand, his grip cautious but protective. Miles attempted to play it off as if he was exasperated, rather than jumbled mess of feelings he was grappling with. The mess of feelings he had been grappling with for some time.

“Honestly, I would have thought just now made it clear enough, but. If I must say it to convince you. Yes, Phoenix. I... I love you, too.”

There was a pause, far too long yet far too short, before Phoenix smiled. Still tired at the edges, but warm and genuine. 

“Okay then. I’m... I’m really glad to hear it isn’t just... I’m glad.”

Miles couldn’t help but smile faintly himself, gently squeezing the hand in his.

“...As am I. Now... why don’t you tell me how you got into this mess?”

[redmaneroster]

Our Home Away From Home, Away From Home

[1] [2] [3] [4-5] [6] [7] [x-x] [10]

PART 8 – Permutation

Its almost strange to call it home, Yang thinks, staring up at the house she grew up in. She'd spent so much time in a cozy little dorm and a browning two-bedroom apartment that a house in the woods almost seems like a distant memory. (She hadn't spent Summer here either. She was in Menagerie with Blake then Mistral with her dad for a getaway, and the rest she spent kicking back with Jaune).

"A lot happened this year," she says.

Jaune's eying the woods around them, trying to see a break in the pattern outside of a few distant houses lost between the bark and autumn leaves. He swallows cause he knows that, if it weren't for Yang, he'd have been terribly lost. "Hm? Uh… huh?" he garbles, unable to hide the tinge of panic.

"A lot happened this year," she repeats. "What's up with you?"

"The woods are thick is all. How you only got lost in it once is beyond me… So, what's with the nostalgia? Old house got you thinking?"

"Something like that. Mostly, I didn't think I'd end up here, getting ready to reacquaint with Raven, and getting you of all people to meet my parents."

"Yeah, didn't think I'd end up introducing another blonde to my sisters either. Future seemed full of redheads and I stuck with it like an act of defiance."

"Defiance? Why's that?"

"If you haven't noticed, we're all terribly blonde. Even Adrian's hair is a dirty gold and we thought for sure he'd be a brunette. It's either a curse, or fate is terrible at jokes and uncomfortable at parties."

She chuckles. "Calling fate out like a loser isn't going to win you any favors. Besides, can't help it when both your folks are blondes."

"One of my sisters is adopted. A blind adoption, mind you. From Vacuo. You know what we got? Chocolate brown skin and dusty blonde hair. Boom. Curse."

There's the sound of fluttering feathers behind them. Qrow straightens his back with a snap as he shapeshifts. "Ngh, agh! Ha… What are two doing just standing outside? Expecting another invitation?"

Jaune and Yang exchange a look. "Stalling," they say in unison.

"W-what? How did you two…? Nevermind." He pinches his forehead cause the moment is too familiar and he feels an irrational envy creep up his cheeks. "You two coming in or not?"

"Why so impatient all of a sudden?" Jaune asks.

"I don't take enjoyment out of watching a train wreck but if I can't stop it, I'll at least hope it's over quickly."

Yang puts a hand on her hip. "Not very optimistic, are you?"

"I prefer cautious," he says as he waves a dismissive hand and stalks ahead of them. "Besides, I don't want you two walking in there expecting things to go off without a hitch." He glances back to see them roll their eyes at the same time and that uncomfortable shiver is back.

"Now that you're here, a disaster's all but guaranteed," Jaune quips.

Qrow glares but neither of them lose their cheek. He rolls his eyes too, but doesn't show them his smile when he's got his back turned. He isn't too sensitive about his semblance – if anything, he's glad Jaune can treat him like he isn't a wounded animal – but he notices the twitch in Jaune's eye. It's there cause he's too soft a soul to have all the bite that quips demand. He almost wants to say sorry for it. "He's a good kid,"

Qrow thinks.

With a twist of the knob, he opens the door and then kicks up his heel to slam it open the rest of the way. He wanders in with a swagger and a mischievous grin. Both fit him naturally.

"Rae!" he shouts. "Your brat and her boyfriend are at the door!"

Jaune balks and shoots Yang a look. She gives him a quick, "He's just like that when he talks to her," and ushers him in.

"And you didn't let them in like a normal fucking person!?" Raven shouts back and it's like a nostalgic gust has poured over Yang. Raven's every inflection is recognizable, echoing deeply from buried memories. They argued like this often when she was small.

"They can walk through a door just fine," Qrow says, swinging into the archway that leads into a tall kitchen. "And lest you forget, I'm a guest here, too. Not your chaperone."

Jaune lets Yang wander ahead, eying her backside as she inches a trail behind Qrow.

Yang peeks in to see her mother chopping something on the kitchen table by the sink. Bravado has taken a backseat and the very reality of the situation has settled in like a bat to Yang's blindside.

"Do you really have to be difficult with me right now?" Raven says with a huff but there's no bite to it, just lazy exasperation.

"Yeah, I do…" Qrow replies. "This is our normal. The minute I go easy on you, assume I'm dead and you've encountered a terribly tolerable doppelganger."

Raven's cheek quirks and it triggers in Yang things she half remembers, and half convinces herself she'd seen in a dream.

"Hmph. Bold of you to assume I won't just take the trade as an act of divine mercy. Maybe this doppelganger can cook for the house every once in a while instead of free loading off my dinner."

"If you wanted me to cook venison, you could have asked."

"Not the deer again… Tai hates it when you bring the kill into the kitchen. I personally don't care that you track blood on the carpet, but he refuses to agree with my sentiments about a house that's lived in and not one you find sterilized in catalogs. Ugh, I'm getting tired just thinking of that argument."

"I know," Qrow agrees, leaning on the counter. "That's why I do it on purpose."

Raven tilts her head back to give her brother a smirk. "You're a scoundrel, Qrow," she says just before her eyes catch Yang's.

"Hey, Mom," Yang says out of instinct. It's too late to take it back.

"Yang, you–" she crosses her arms, "–who is this?"

Jaune's heat presses against her arm like the partner he is. Not in front like her protector, but beside her like her equal. She can feel the way he's hiding his nerves with the shudder in his arm. "Dad didn't tell you?" she says. "This is Jaune. My boyfriend."

Jaune, borrowing confidence he's learned from her, doesn't back down. "Good afternoon, ma'am," he greets, standing proudly. His fingers twitch against Yang's arm.

"Oh, he told me about him alright. I just wasn't expecting a familiar face." Her eyes lock onto him. She smirks when she sees he doesn't flinch. "You're an Arc, I take it? I recognize that face. Your father was in the news once or twice."

"Oh, you heard about the manticore horde? Or was it the behemoth at Glenn?"

"Neither. He blew up a dust shop."

Oddly enough, Yang feels him relax.

"Yeah," he says, scratching his head, "Arcs really shouldn't have guns."

Raven nods. There's no tension here, and Yang feels it's gone all too smoothly.

"Perhaps you can tell me the story," Raven offers as she turns back to chopping. "I have an old bet with Qrow I'd like to settle."

"What did you bet on?" Jaune asks.

Raven snorts. "And let you lie to give my brother the win? Please. I know you two are friendly." She glances back. It's the only other time through this whole conversation that she's looked Yang in the eye and it's still only for a second. She goes back to chopping. "Why don't you two go into the living room and wait for Tai while my silent shadow of a brother here helps me sort out this recipe."

Qrow shrugs and continues to say nothing other than whisper something to Raven that makes her blush angrily.

Yang peels off of Jaune and her insides broil unsteadily.

"Sounds like she's changed," Jaune says when he's in the living room alone with her on a wide U-shaped sofa.

She shakes her head. "She hasn't though."

"What? But the way you described her before–"

"–is all hearsay. I had a mom who left out of the blue. Before that she was jabbing back and forth with Qrow, needing help in the kitchen, and trying her best to be on top of things. Everything I said about her between that time was just me making assumptions about a woman who wasn't around for me to judge in person. I never actually knew if she changed any since leaving."

"So this is Raven Branwen: Unfiltered? If this is what she was like before, then maybe she's just trying to fit back into place the only way she knows how."'

She raises her knees to curl up but she forces them back down. She doesn't want to appear too obviously vulnerable. Not when her mother is still in the house. She tosses Jaune a meaningful glance. "Is it wrong for me to hate that?"

"Some people might say it is, but I think it's too much to ask someone who has had to raise her little sister all on her own to let her absentee mother just waltz back into her life like nothing's changed."

"I still don't know if you're agreeing with me or not."

"Cause I don't know either. Give me a minute to think on it and I'll probably pick a side but I'd much rather stay right where I am. On neutral ground." He squeezes her hand. "I'm here to be your backup, not your coach." Because they don't solve each other's issues, not every time, but they always help each other along.

She knows this, of course. She hasn't deluded herself into thinking that they could crack every case just because love had lofty ideas about making everything right. Being in love doesn't solve everything, it just gives you a partner to solve them with.

"I think I'm suddenly very tired," she says, leaning on his arm. "Wake me in an hour when dinner's ready."

"Uh… shouldn't it be done sooner?"

"Raven used to wake up at five AM to make breakfast in time for school. She takes breaks cause she doesn't always have the patience for it. Don't expect it to go any faster with Uncle Qrow in there. He's just there to make sure she doesn't skip any steps."

"That doesn't fill my with confidence," he says but she's already snuggling into his arm with a contented sigh.

With the sound of clattered pans and restrained yelling from the kitchen, Jaune decides to shut his eyes too.

-0-

Jaune is violently awoken by someone grabbing him by the collar and shaking him awake.

"You!" says the messy tuft of blonde hair presently pressed against his face. "You're… yer…. Hic!" The scent of alcohol is palpable. The smell is dizzying.

He blinks himself awake. "Uh, you're Mr. Xiao Long, I'm guessing? I'm Jaune. Yang said she mentioned me?"

The tuft of hair pulls up revealing the chiseled scruff of a well-worn huntsman. Faded scars litter his neck and chin, but that's where all the menace in him ends. Despite his tone, Taiyang has the look of a desperate man. His eyes are wide and a solid, beautiful blue. His cheeks have a slight plump to them that make him just shy of an Adonis.

Jaune makes the executive decision not to think along that line any further. But it's clear that Yang's got stellar genes and – No! Bad Jaune! Stop it!

Tai glances at the slumbering Yang, snoring softly against Jaune's arm. "What did you do to my daughter?" he says with a drunken pout that would look more intimidating on a pug.

"Uh, nothing!" he whispers urgently. "Nothing I swear."

He squints so much that he closes his eyes and nearly passes out before he jolts himself awake. "You… You and Qrow really are friends. 'Nothing,' he says… that's just code for plowed her till sunrise."

Still in a sleepy haze, Yang pushes her father's face away until he falls back onto the coffee table behind him. "Dad… leave him alone," she groans. "He wouldn't touch me even if I tore off his clothes and –" Her eyes shoot open, fully awake and painfully aware. Her scream then is almost silent, Jaune thinks, but he's pretty certain that's cause Yang's vivid horror is blasted like shellshock when she abruptly screams louder next to his ear and scrambles over the sofa to hide behind it.

He's still shaking his head to get the ringing out.

Qrow bursts in, Raven meekly peeking behind him. "What the fuck – Oh."

Tai is sprawled over the coffee table, squinting angrily at everything.

"Bird!" Tai accuses, swinging his arm out to point at him but slamming it on the hardwood coffee table. "Ow," he mutters as his aura flares.

"Drunk," Qrow greets. He hoists the man over his shoulder. "Sorry about this, kids. I think Tai's got his nerves bundled up again. I'll get him to detox upstairs after a nap."

"Uh, it looks like he'll be out for the week," Jaune says, shaking his head still. "I doubt a nap will fix him by dinner."

"Nah. Tai can burn all the alcohol out of his system with enough motivation and calories. He'll be ready by the time Rae manages to get something on the table."

Tai wiggles like an insolent child, fists lightly beating on the man's back. "Back off, Qrow!" he slurs. "You're not taking this one – hic – too… guh…"

"That's my twin sister, you dunce."

"Really?" Tai pushes his head up, eying Raven. "Pfft! Qrow, you are not that pretty."

Once the two of them have rounded the corner into Tai's bedroom, Jaune asks the quietly smiling Raven, "This happen often?"

"Not as much as it used to," she says. "Was a time when there were two whole families in this house and it was never quiet. Two men and enough testosterone to make a third made competition between them frequent. Qrow got Tai to drink and you can see that he hasn't acclimated to it as well as my brother does."

"Do you drink?"

"I'm a Branwen," she shrugs, "our blood is two parts alcohol. Small mercy that Yang hasn't picked up our habits. Or Ruby for that matter."

Jaune raises a brow. "Ruby's a Branwen?"

Yang nearly gasps from behind the couch, hands clutching her mouth.

"No," Raven says. "Well, she should have been but Qrow basically raised her all the same. He even knit her a tiny red hood when she was barely a foot tall, and it's been her motif ever since." Raven, eying him, closes her arms a little tighter around herself. As if guarded. Uncertain. "Despite how it may appear," she says, "I am glad my daughter found you but there's something you should know moving forward…"

Jaune prepares for the inevitability of the 'boyfriend' talk. It doesn't come. Raven is beside herself, eying the floor. "No matter what happens today, I do not intend to reconcile with my daughter."

He realizes that she doesn't know that Yang is in the room, just by the sofa. His heart knots. "You don't know if she wants that yet."

She laughs. It's bitter. "It doesn't matter. What Yang wants isn't coming into the equation. She needs to distance herself from me."

"What was the point of coming here if not to bridge the gap between you two?"

Raven chews her lip, wanting nothing more than to end the conversation and walk out of the room. She doesn't. Can't. "To prove that things have changed here. That me and my brother talk, and that Tai has… met me halfway."

"So this – all of this – is for show?"

Her features darken, her face hardens. "Yes."

He pushes himself up, almost prepares to march up to her. His feet don't push him any further. His willful restraint is there but it's paper thin. "And if she wants more?" he asks, inwardly begging her to give him a reason to meet her up close.

Her eyes narrow at the floor. "All you have to do is make her an Arc and she'll live a life better than anything I can give her!" Her gaze is at him, dangerous and unafraid, but its desperate. She's asking him a favor. "Asking me to be a part of her life is like active theft. You will give her all she'll ever want, but me? I'll only ever take things away. And if you give me the chance, I'll end up taking her too. She'll leave you like I did Tai."

The silence wanes and Jaune can hear the thumping in his own chest. She's making claims for things that haven't happened yet. As if she can't promise to give as well as she takes. As if she can't meet her own daughter halfway. As if she can't compromise. His ears strain to hear anything from Yang, but she's so deftly quiet that he feels alone in the room with her mother.

Muscle fastens onto bone, curling his fist inward till digs into his palm. His aura flares. The sound of it jolts him awake. He'd been holding his breath.

Then… he plops down onto his seat. Tension in his skin unwinds. All his disbelief slips away. Any anger he feels pools into his back to weigh him against the cushions. "But why?" is all he asks, looking up at her.

Raven is so taken aback by his sudden shift that she shows the tangled fear she'd tucked away for a moment. The question is genuine and – like her many nights moonlighting bars – she is tempted to bare her soul to a stranger. "Because I'm a Branwen," she says, eyes deadened. Scowling as if the name is a profane. "And even a terrible mother wouldn't wish that name on her daughter."

When she leaves the room, Yang rises from behind the couch. She doesn't focus on anything. She looks bewildered, pained.

Qrow comes down the steps and they look at him. He looks like how she feels. "I'm sorry if this wasn't what you were expecting," he says.

Yang clutches the backrest of the sofa. "I don't know what I was expecting."

Qrow gives her a worried look. "Maybe… maybe it's better that way."

He wanders into the kitchen, leaving them alone.

Jaune doesn't hold Yang. Instead, he fishes her gauntlets from the duffel bag, takes her by the hand, and pulls her outside.

-0-

She sets fire to a dead tree. The blast of Ember Celica ripples through the woods, scatters wildlife, shakes the canopy, and rustles the owls awake. She doesn't care. The blowback from her gauntlets as it makes contact with the deadwood is cathartic. Reflective of what she's feeling inside.

But it isn't anger.

"What does she even… Ugh!" Another blast, sending out a spent shell, light casting over her cheek and hair with accompanying heat. "I don't get it!"

She breathes in and out. Blinks moisture into her eyes. She's been doing the very opposite of crying and drying the liquid in her sockets. She's starting to feel dizzy. She slumps back onto a rock Jaune is sitting on, using his shoulder as a backrest. "I'm not… mad at her. I'm confused. And I'm mad that I'm confused. Does that make sense?"

"About as much sense as she was making," he says with a sarcastic smile.

She's trying to smile back. Even a little one might do but her lips down-curl. Her frown tightens and she sighs into the open sky. "I wanted to give her a chance," she says. "Maybe see where this goes but… now that I know she won't even try? How am I supposed to process this? Do I just do what she wants and not try either?"

He plucks a twig from a dead branch, snapping its length into little pieces. "Do you even want to do that? I mean, if leaving things as they are isn't what you want, then ideally how would you like all this to end?"

She takes half of the twig – snapping it between them. She picks it apart too.

An answer doesn't come.

They gather the tiny bits of branch and bunch it into Jaune's hands. Yang pulls out a fire dust shell from her gauntlet and cracks it open over them. Red particles filter over and into the loose wood bits. He spools them into a ball and his semblance surges over his arm.

His muscles tighten when he approaches the dead tree. It's barely as tall as he is now. His arm pulls back. The chunks in his palm ignite. He throws them like a man-propelled buckshot, scattering burning holes through it.

Even charred, the thing has dangerous embers dancing off its broken pieces.

"We should put this out," she says.

"Mm!" He kicks it down, unrooting it. Then he hoists it up. "Got another good punch in ya'?"

"I've got a few, yeah, but I'll save the rest for later. I only need one for this."

He crouches low, prepping to toss. "Ready?" he asks.

"Pull!" she shouts.

He tosses it into the air, scattering the scent of ash and char, and she swings her fist into it. The sheer force of the blow consumes the flame as it rockets and splinters into a tall rock.

"Y'know what?" she says. "If it's taking me this long to even answer, maybe this isn't what I want."

"So what now, chief?"

She snorts. "Don't give me ideas. Anyway, I say we take the aggressive approach. We got them a present, I say we break it out instead of handing them the box. Invite them to try it with us."

Jaune turns to the house where they left the duffel bag. He winces. "Are you sure about this?"

"I don't see an elegant solution. And it's probably stupid, yeah, but stupid has worked for us so far."

"Really? How exactly has it worked for us so far?"

"In what universe do hickeys stop two primed teenagers from having sex?"

"Ours, apparently…"

"Gets the tension out. Would be genius if I didn't find it by accident."

"Speaking of which…"

He comes up behind her and pushes her hair off her shoulder, exposing her neck.

"What are you – Ah!" she gasps when he bites her neck. Her aura lowers on instinct, letting him mark her.

He pulls away and wipes her dry with a handkerchief. "You taste like saltwater and ash."

She rubs her neck as the pain subsides rapidly. "We should bathe when we get back. What was that for anyway?"

"Revenge, mostly. Feeling petty."

"On me?"

"Your mom."

"Heh, yeah, she's gonna ask questions or implode trying not to. Actually, since we're getting shiners, we should get ones to match."

He doesn't protest but he's not happy about it. With a sigh he leans down but she's already jumped up to latch onto him.

She bites down so hard that he swears that she was actually trying to eat him. He'd be more okay with it if she didn't keep trying to one-up herself.

-0-

Dinner, somehow, is always pleasant. True to Qrow's word, Tai comes in completely sober. Jaune chalks it up to having a very useful semblance.

Tai is a chill dad. He nudges Yang when he sees the hickey, even when Qrow refuses to make eye contact with Jaune and Raven squints while warring with herself to say something but won't. Tai reintroduces himself and sits next to Jaune to strike up a conversation with him.

It takes minutes for Tai to fish out that Jaune has seven sisters, that he met Yang by throwing up on her boots, and that he used to have a crush on Ruby. The last bit comes as a surprise to everyone but Tai who pats himself on the back for having incredible girls in the family.

Jaune finds out that Tai is very much like Yang. Despite closing himself off for a good chunk of her childhood, he's clearly had a great influence on her disposition. Father and daughter joke and jab at each other, laugh just as loudly, crack the same kind of jokes (he tries not to think of them as mom jokes when he looks at his girilfriend).

Jaune eventually gets to tell the story of how his dad blew up a dust shop during his third year in Beacon. Just a mishap with a loose dust feeder, a weapon he didn't know how to use, and a particularly handsy bully. By the end, Raven cheers when she wins the bet. Apolian Arc punched a cop. Qrow bet that he punched a civilian.

They're unwinding in the living room when Jaune's eying the wall of photos. Summer's only in a handful of the group shots. Qrow explains that she insisted on being the photographer and didn't like being in photos herself. It's why she has the hood. It's comforting when she can pretend to be hiding.

She sounds like Ruby.

"I just noticed," Jaune says to Yang, "your mom's smiling in every photo. Qrow's the only one who occasionally doesn't."

"It was a different time," she says. "Qrow told me that she was cheery and crass. Would even crack a joke or two whenever she found the time to stop training and be a teenager."

"I'll be honest, it's still weird seeing her smile so much. I came in here expecting a variation of Glynda Goodwitch, not Qrow Branwen. Speaking of which," he glances back at the adults huddled laughing by the sofa, "we should probably break out the gift."

"Speaking of speaking of things," she rubs the hickey on her neck, "it still stings."

"Oh, sorry. Let me heal it."

She pushes his hands away. "No, I –" Her eyes widen. Pressing two digits into the bruised flesh, she feels the ache but doesn't hate it. "Okay, heal me quick before this turns into a fetish!"

Warmth pools out of his palms.

"Could you not make out in full view of her family?" Qrow calls from across the room, and they realize they're leaned a little too close.

"We weren't gonna!" Jaune calls out.

Yang rolls her eyes cause she's comfortable with them coming to their own conclusions about her relationship but Jaune's stint with Tai made him want to make a good impression. It was already easy enough what with Tai admitting that as long as Yang chose and continues to choose him, then he'll rest easy knowing she's in good hands, but Jaune wants to pile on the goodwill.

Those thoughts take a backseat when Yang reaches for the duffel bag by the coffee table. Goodwill be damned.

It's time.

Yang parts a few clothes and a hollowed-out cushion for their scrolls to fish out a crystalline bottle. "We wanted to hand this off in the box but we figured we might as well crack it open tonight."

With the way they're all staring at the bottle, it's clear they recognize it.

Qrow roars with laughter. "Ha! Diadem, the dirtiest fucking drink on the planet!" He comes up to it and holds the bottle aloft, fingers running over the bumpy, crystalline surface. "Ah, look at it. All prettied up for the upper class. Diadem used to be homemade and brewed in a shack. Used to be so strong that you could feel nothing for hours."

"'Course, the stuff's a little better refined nowadays. You used to taste fire dust in it too cause their shoddy furnaces were held together by spit and prayers. But look at it! Pricks like Jacques fucking Schnee or that Lucius ass-end-of-an-ass Merrigold would down this like it's water, having no idea that they're chugging the equivalent of desert moonshine."

Tai licks his lips and it almost feels like a bad idea before he shoots up from his seat. "I'll get the shot glasses!" he announces.

Raven is the only one not smiling. She's suspicious, but the minute the drink touches her lips and she's made wide awake, she melts into the same stupor as everyone else.

-0-

Yang barely registers what their plan was supposed to be. Loosening Raven's lips with the stiffest drink since frozen stalactites seemed a half-baked plan at best, but they didn't plan passed that. They might have been able to salvage it if they didn't take many drinks themselves.

Jaune took exactly one and he's already left her alone to start an intimate relationship with the toilet.

He did, however, get the ball rolling about last names for some reason. He might have explained why to her but she can't remember.

"They'll lose sleep over a friend who's had a bad day," Raven says with a snarl that isn't sincere so much as it appears to be her permanent tipsy-face. "Worrying up and down but will leave you alone after a smile cause that's all they need to calm their nerves. Their hearts are too kind…"

"Who…?" Yang slurs, struggles to think of the rest of the sentence, then starts over. "Who… who are you talking about?"

Raven scrunches her nose. "The Roses," she answers.

Yang buries her head in her hands and curls into her seat. "No… I don't wanna hear about Uncle Qrow's god-damn garden again…"

Qrow, sporting alcohol like one does water, kicks back beside her. There's something in his eye though. The alcohol is getting to him. "We're talking about the Rose half of the family. Y'know, Summer and Ruby?"

"Hm?" She squints. "Oh yeah… Ruby's a worrywart."

"Qrow!" Tai calls from beside Raven, looping an arm around her. "What's a Xiao Long like then?"

"They're all fucking crazy," he jabs. Yang and Tai simultaneously pretend to be hurt. "But! I've found that the more obnoxious they seem on the outside, the more worth you'll find underneath."

Raven leans into Tai and stares at Yang's feet curled up on the cushion. It's the closest she'll get to meeting her eyes. "They can be in your face," Raven says, "deftly abrasive, louder than foghorns, and wilder than ursa! But they're steadfast partners…" She looks up at Tai who has a half-lidded gawk to him that's like he's falling in love with her again. "Painfully loyal… and… dangerously persistent."

Yang feels a heat roll over her side. She leans into it until she realizes that Jaune's slid beside her and pulling her in by the waist. "She's right, y'know?" Jaune tells her quietly. "You never did listen when I asked you not to pursue me and, yet, here we are. You never did know when to quit but I'm glad you never quit on me."

She wants to return the sentiment somehow but words don't form and she's making faces that she worries he'll misunderstand. She's just mad at herself for not finding words. "F-fuck… That was a human sentence you just made. Why aren't you drinking?" she says instead, pushing an empty shot glass to his lips.

"No thanks. Diadem will literally kill me. I felt like I was throwing up my own organs. I swear I felt my lungs pull up into my throat. I am not touching that decanter ever again." He turns to Qrow who is squinting at them as if they're all out of focus. "Oh, shit, sorry, Qrow," Jaune says. Cause the man is sat alone in front of two couples.

Jaune tries not to wince when Qrow downs a shot and his eyes go glassy.

He is sat slumped at the last corner of the large U-shaped sofa. His scroll, set neatly below him on the coffee table, flashes over his gawk face as he leans into it. His hands are beside him, palms pointing upwards while his fingers twitch like roots animating in intervals. His slack jaw regards them with his deep gaunt, eyes meeting every face before he points his head to the ceiling as he falls back into the seat. Seems he's not quite as adept with so many drinks in him. Or maybe Diadem is a weakness.

He lets each eye blink individually before he announces, "I'm dating again!"

Everyone sits up. Okay, only kind of. They lean out but can't peel off the sofa. Except for Jaune who is sober. "Since when do you have time to date?" he asks.

"I don't," he chuckles, shaking his head as he comes back to his senses. "I flirt while on the job. Closest thing either of us will get to a date at this point."

Yang mumbles something.

Jaune strains his ears to hear her. Maybe the ringing from earlier hasn't stopped. "What was that? I'm sitting right next to you and even I couldn't hear you."

She pulls up before falling sideways onto Jaune's shoulder. "Who!?" she calls out to the room cause she doesn't know where Qrow is. Her eyes are still closed.

Qrow grins. "Winter… Schnee."

At first, when he starts talking about a mission they had together in Mistral, they think he's going to segway into a conquest. But he doesn't. He starts talking about how he and Winter shared in the fact that they both had a responsibility they shirked for duty. To protect the world their loved ones live in, they've chosen to abandon having lives of their own.

No one calls him out for clearly being drunk out of his mind nor for opening up.

He's got an anthology of moments with Winter. And each time he finishes a story, they're surprised whenever it doesn't end in heat. One time they do end it in a kiss, but it was on the cheek. She'd done it comfort him but they both knew it was hollow. It was an appreciated gesture, but it wasn't something that could help. They aren't wired to let something like that heal any kind of wound.

Winter doesn't know what it's like to have a delicate heart anymore and the idea of quiet comforts like a hug or a kiss feels so… unsubstantial to them both. They either needed more or that wasn't the kind of comfort they needed. Realizing this is why they started dating.

The stories are nicer then. They leave a movie theater ten minutes in when they realize that sitting around to watch actors pretend to be heroes isn't for them. They instead find a quiet corner in a bar but they don't drink. They talk and he jokes and she's smiling and they kiss and…

Raven is curled up into Tai now, staring at her brother with a look that can only be pride.

Jaune is smiling sleepily at him. Yang nestles into his chest as they scoop together on the sofa's corner.

Qrow gets up, scroll in hand, and leaves the room to call Winter.

Tai and Jaune fall asleep.

Yang catches Raven staring but is so out of it that she isn't sure if Raven caught her staring instead. The quiet makes the crickets fill the spaces beside something crackling outside.

"What are Branwens like?" Yang asks.

Raven squints, pulling herself out of her dreariness. "…What?"

"If a Rose cares too much but loves unconditionally, and a Xiao Long is a dependable but gets in your face, then what is a Branwen?"

She huddles into Tai, looking vulnerable. "We…" Her eyes narrow at the floor and she hisses quietly to herself. "I…"

A pang of empathy makes her sit up. "Mom…" she says consciously.

Raven stares at her. Yang can't tell if she's touched or just shocked, but when her eyes draw away and she clutches at Tai's shirt, words pour shaking out of her lips. "Branwens… are a curse." Something awful crawls into her cheeks, her features squeezing together so her few wrinkles cast shadows. There's a pain there that almost looks familiar, as if she'd had this look about her forever but only now is Yang seeing it for what it is. And whatever that pain is, it's old. Maybe even older than she is.

Raven whispers something to Tai before getting up. Halfway up the steps, she looks at Yang and Jaune before saying, "You should take him to bed. I don't care what you do with him but I'm sure he'll appreciate a warm mattress over a sofa."

"That's very considerate of you," Yang says as she eases Jaune's arm over her shoulder. "Thanks."

Raven blushes, deeper than the alcohol might, as she marches back up the steps. "Don't get used to it," she says, not meaning it.

Jaune sleepily wakes up with a good shake. "Ugh, babe, could ya' not?"

"Pfft! Since when do you call me babe?"

"In my head, mostly. Giving you a pet name will actively worsen my experience. You've got enough ammunition to tease me with."

"I'll fish them out of you yet. Pick up your feet a little. I'm taking you to bed."

"Please, no," he says, pretending to resist. "I'm still tender…"

She rolls her eyes. Even in a drowsy state, he still finds time mess around. "Don't cooperate and I'll sling you over my shoulder."

He scoffs playfully. "As if a free ride is gonna stop me."

Her eyes narrow. "I'm really going to do it."

"Whoa, whoa! Hey, I'll do it…" He yawns. "See?" His shin hits the coffee table and he stumbles.

Yang grabs him and leads him by the arm.

Tai stirs when they pass him by. "Honey?"

"Go to bed, Dad."

"Good night, Mr. Xiao Long."

"Please," Tai grins, "call me Tai."

Jaune squints. "Yeah, I'm not doing that."

"You're not –" Yang starts. "Oh, hey, look at us. Still in sync!"

"I think there just isn't a universe where I call your dad Tai." His nose scrunches up. "Yup, even sounds weird saying it out loud."

-0-

Yang's room is as she remembers it. Only, for once, it's completely tidy. She always had a habit of leaving a little mess somewhere. Sometimes it was hidden, like in a drawer or a corner under her desk, but not this time. Her dad (or maybe Qrow) keeps it cleaner than she ever would have.

Even her strung-up photos along the ceiling are still there. Dates and names and faces she thought would be her whole world. Only now she has a new circle of friends.

"This feels like a room for a different person," she says to Jaune after she's laid him in her bed. Her comforter is freshly pressed and still warm. "Like I'm looking at old me through a lens."

Jaune's eyes are still closed but he reaches for her hand over the sheets and says, "Or maybe this is the version of you your dad remembers. How different are you now from back then?"

"Not a lot, I think. I mean, we're only over a year apart," she spies a photo of her and Ruby glistening in the moonlight. It's of her last day in Signal. It was Ruby's last day too, apparently. "Or maybe I just haven't noticed." She shoots him a look and he can feel her stare enough to crack an eye open. "Comparing me now to when we met. Was I different?"

He shuts his eyes again, but he finds her hand and tugs once. Yang willfully falls onto the mattress next to him. "Hm… well you used to have anger issues in the ring. Even Ms. Goodwitch is starting to notice how you've mellowed out."

"Heh, I guess I have you to thank for that."

He places a hand over her face. He's still not opening his eyes but his nose scrunches up again. "No you don't."

She moves his hand off her face. "Eh?"

"That's all you, Yang. You made that change. If I helped at all, our friends did just as much."

Her lip tilts. "I was trying to flirt."

"I know but… we can't about this. Part of me still worries we'll do that stupid couple thing and forget we have friends."

"Hey, we've been good so far, I think… Look, we can talk to them and figure things out."

"Yeah, compromises."

"Yeah!" She curls into his arm. "But not tonight, please… I've enough things to worry about right here."

"Right… Okay, big picture later." He kisses her forehead. "Now sleep. We've had a day…"

"Yeah, a day…"

She gets comfortable under the sheets and on his shoulder for exactly a minute before she remembers something. "Fuck…" she whispers as she pulls out.

"What is it?"

"Forgot the duffel. I'll go get it and be back in a minute."

"Leave it, Yang. Come back to bed."

"Not taking any chances without our scrolls. Ruby might call us." She's already at the door. "Just a minute, I swear."

She finds her dad slumped against the railing that overlooks the living room. Steam billows hazily off his skin and through his jacket, his semblance burning away the alcohol. The area smells thinly like Diadem but mostly of water vapor. Yang's nose twitches at the familiar scent.

He's blinking a lot, head shaking.

"Dad?"

He turns in a start. Breaths pass through him in labored chunks, chest heaving. His eyes are puffy. Fingers twitch and his eyes steal glances at her as he turns away. There's a want – need – to reach out but she can tell that he doesn't think he's worthy of it.

So, she crashes into his back and hugs him.

A palm runs down his face. "I'm so… so sorry, honey," he says.

He tucks his arms into his chest so she can hold all of him. His hands clutch over her encircled wrists. "Dad… Dad it's okay. You were in a rough spot…"

"That doesn't matter… I'm still your father. You needed a parent and you ended up having to be one for Ruby. I… I hate myself everyday thinking about how you didn't have anyone… I… I should have… I'm so sorry…"

She knows telling him that he didn't do anything wrong or that he didn't have any control over himself would only be excuses upon excuses, perhaps only a handful compared to the thousands he'd piled for himself over the years. He knew he did wrong, and none of her strength coming out the other end of it is going to change that.

So, instead, she shifts to his front and pulls up his head. She wraps her arms around his neck. "I don't care about any of that anymore… I already forgive you. I did a long, long time ago."

She feels his tears running down her neck. Then she realizes that some of them are hers.

-0-

Jaune winces. He's been up for over an hour now. Yang slipped into bed with him but she'd been shaking and sniffling. He could tell that she'd been crying but the tears had dried and she'd been fighting off all that was left of whatever it was in his arms. Now she's sleeping soundly while he's been trying to piece together what happened on his own whilst constructing a speech in case it's Raven's fault.

Finally, he settles with getting up and loosening his nerves before really doing anything. Yang groans from the missing warmth as he stumbles out, scroll in hand.

"No new messages…" he mutters. "I hope you're alright, Rubes."

Pushing the door open, he notices an orange glow coming from downstairs. Over the railing, there's nothing below but darkness and moonlight through the windows. Even then, dark shadows waft passed the moon, clawing darkness across the floor.

"Strong, windy clouds tonight… It didn't look like it was gonna rain earlier."

The smell of ash filters into the air. "Ick… Wait."

He's awake now as he stumbles down the steps. The shadows in the window are moving too rapidly for any passing cloud. That's smog, and it clears passed the window for a moment long enough to show the orange glow outside.

The forest is on fire.

"Shit!" he howls as he runs back up the steps. Thinking quickly, he sets his scroll to Seven Rapids and blasts the heavy chorus riff at max. Leaving it in the hall, he can already hear everyone else waking up, groans and thuds all.

He busts through Yang's door. She's rubbing her eyes awake. "Jaune, what –"

"Forest fire," he says quickly, pulling out their weapons from the duffel bag.

She shakes awake. "What?"

Ember Celica crashes into her hands when he tosses them at her.

"The forest is on fire!" he says, not even waiting for her as he busts through the door again and leaps over the railing.

He tucks and rolls along the carpet, nearly colliding with a lamp as he slams through the front door into the suffocating smoke.

Heat rolls through the air like he's sitting in a boiling pot. Even his aura flares at the licking flames that whip in the wind, coiling off the trees like infernal tendrils.

Jaune thinks back to the embers they tried to douse. "Did we do this?" He shakes his head. The thought is useless right now.

The fire burns over a host of trees like charred pillars to the darkened sky, but they're all centered ahead. Most the forest is untouched still. They can contain it if they hurry. They can't stop the fire, but they can stop it from growing.

So he speeds towards the outer rim of the roaring flame where the trees are unburnt and pours his semblance into his arms. One enhanced swing fells a tree, then another, and another, but he knows he can't keep it up. He can't cut these down so easily once he's out of juice.

Qrow blows passed him, slicing a tree himself, clad in only his pants and the greatsword in his hands. "I'm guessing you and Yang have the same plan?"

"Cut off its fuel?"

Tai runs by them as sand pours out of his skin in layers. He's using his semblance and earth dust in his palms to cover the dried leaves on the ground. "Fell those quick!" he shouts. "We don't have much time!"

On the other end of the fire, Yang and Raven are busting a row of trees. Yang's fists tighten with every strike, but even if she can split a tree in a single blow, her aura suffers from the blowback. It isn't any better with Raven whose forearms flare with every swing against the sturdy oaks.

"This isn't working!" Raven shouts.

Tai sprints passed them with the familiar glow of Jaune's semblance running over him like a white shell. A layer of sand up to their ankles forms underneath them, burying dry leaves and loose branches. They could really use Jaune's semblance too. Their arms are aching.

"There are people in these woods," Yang says. "We can't let this get any bigger. Vale's never gonna send any help here fast enough without someone getting hurt."

The fire spits pillars of ash and smoke their way by a rogue wind. They turn to shield their eyes. Yang blinks through the haze and sees something in the distant dark of the woods behind them. Glowing red eyes bob rapidly between the trees, charging towards them.

Yang growls. "Ugh, we do not have time for this!" The cylinders in her gauntlets click together as she loads in fresh shells. "Raven, you're clearing the wood better than I can. Keep at it while I cover you."

Raven's hand fall quickly on her shoulder. "No," she says sternly, "this is all pointless. We're destroying our bodies for a cause we've not the strength for."

"I don't care!" Yang hisses. "I'm still doing this. Whether or not you're behind me helping at all won't change that." And with that, she bolts into the dark and the twisting red eyes in the woods collide with her.

Flashes of her gauntlet colliding with grimm flesh light up the yawning dark. Blackened fur rimmed with pale external bone all scorch and smolder with her every blow, a comet to meet the streaks of vicious red eyes.

Raven backs away from the sight, seeing Summer Rose instead.

Jaune comes up behind her and Raven feels a rush of power coursing through her veins. Her pain vanishes. Her strength feels like it's multiplying. Trees fall with ease then, matching rhythm with her daughter as Jaune runs to her side to fell grimm together.

Raven sees Tai in Jaune's place too.

Minutes pass as the fire is choked on all sides but one. Raven sees Qrow and Tai on the other end, making progress. They're exhausted, heaving through labored lungs, and she can feel her own trying to crawl out of her throat.

She dares to glance back at Jaune and Yang. Something looms overhead of them: a single red eye in the canopy. There's no time to parse what it is. Raven's already sprinting over to them.

She cuts a portal mid-sprint and she leaps into it. Her momentum carries through and into the air as she rockets up from the other end of the portal that manifests at Yang's side. Omen surges with dust as she empties the canister in her sheath and swings into the red eye above.

Fire dust surges in a swath against a mass of stone and charred bark. It's a geist amalgamated into solid wall of wood and stone.

Raven swings again, ice dust crashing into it and pushing it up. Again and again and again. Wind, earth, lightning, gravity. The last one splashes a purple glow over the grimm as it slowly floats, all of its form ensconced in a gravity well that tugs it into the sky.

She swings but she's out of dust… And she's falling. Her skin rustles like pinpricks as she starts to shapeshift into a bird, but she stops when Yang zooms passed her. Jaune's semblance is folded over her, making her glow like an ascending meteor as she crashes dead center into the red eye.

With a thunderous crackle, she breaks through and the night sky gleams passed her. She whoops while she's up there against the moon.

Raven falls into Jaune's arms below. His semblance is already working its way to ease the ache but she pushes off of him. "Thank you," she manages behind a heave of her chest, "ha… but the boys aren't done yet. Help them with the fire. They'll need it more."

Jaune nods without hesitating and sprints off towards the remains of the flame.

Yang falls into a controlled descent as Ember Celica slows her momentum with a few blasts. Her arms aren't blasting evenly. They probably still hurt. She lands into a stumble and lets herself fall into a sitting up position. She's breathing a lot.

Raven sits beside her. Somewhere in the distance, the boys are cheering.

"We did it," Yang says.

"You sound surprised," Raven says.

"Cause just like you, I didn't think we could do it either."

Raven lifts a brow. "So why did you keep pushing?"

"To prove to us both that we were wrong."

And Raven laughs, hardy and true till she's tearing up in one eye for a moment. "You really are Summer's daughter," she says. Her smile is infectious.

Yang hides her smile in her knees, huddling them close to her chest. "I'm yours, too."

Raven's mouth thins sadly. "But you shouldn't be."

"I don't think you have a choice."

There's a blue shimmer through the treeline now. The boys are trying to finish this quicker by using ice dust to enclose the largest parts of the fire in pillars of ice. The pale light resembles frosted glass.

"We're pragmatists," Raven says.

"What?"

Raven tilts her head at her. "You asked what the Branwens are. That's it. Pragmatists." Not a curse this time. This is her honest answer.

Yang huddles closer as Raven's gaze turns faraway. She knows what's coming because Raven, in her disheveled shorts and worn shirt, her ragged hair and muddied skin, is vulnerable. Her artifice, the one of strength that championed her tribe, is gone.

"We like to pretend we have room for love," Raven continues. "That's never the case. Never true. My mother and father died at a burning beach while Qrow and I fled with the tribe. Nevermind that our eldest sister died with them, more brilliant than either of us will ever be. It didn't matter that she deserved a life brighter than either us could ever make it. A Branwen is hardwired to protect something bigger than they are. To us, that was always the tribe. The whole of it. Not its members, not its kin, nor the ones we dared to love. Just the tribe. The larger whole."

She sighs slowly, letting her breath catch in the now cold air. "Then Beacon came and Ozpin changed all that. Suddenly the tribe wasn't our greatest responsibility. Ozpin had drilled in us the want to protect the world of all things, and he gave us the means to do just that… I remember being excited to save lives. Plucking civilians from impossible odds and reveling in the praise. Summer and I even seemed like sisters for a while – we were so giddy. Like sisters…"

Yang unfurls when Raven tucks into herself. Yang's hand is warm on her shoulder. "The day Summer died was the day we realized we'd made her a Branwen. That she chose the world over us. Over her daughter." She glances at Qrow slumped against the ice wall. "Over her fiancé."

"It wasn't why I left, mind you. That was different. That was futility on my part. I couldn't save the world from something impossible, not with what Ozpin had us face. The tribe had to be my answer after that. Something I could save. Thought I'd find a little peace in scaling back. Scaling down. It felt like I was regressing but I wasn't like Summer. Didn't have the courage to face insurmountable odds like the compassionate fool she was…"

"Mom…"

"You… don't have to do that. You don't have to call me that. I know it doesn't mean anything."

Yang chuckles. "It means whatever I want it to. And right now, it means this." She squeezes her arm again. She knows it isn't forgiveness – not quite yet – but it's a step in that direction. More than she expects. More than she deserves.

"No room for doubt," Raven says. "You're Tai's alright."

"So, I've got some Rose and Xiao Long in me," Yang says proudly. "Doesn't mean there's any shame in having a part of me still be a Branwen."

Raven's lips thin. "Yang…"

"Hush," she says quickly. "Part of me still wants to save the world but I'm also in it for the thrills. I might not end up like Summer. I might not choose to martyr myself if I know I have people waiting for me. I can be selfish too. We all are. I think… I think there's value in being a part of all three."

"Four," Raven says. "That boy you've tied yourself to. You seem content when you're with him. Comfortable even. If he's involved, you're as much an Arc as you are a Branwen…"

"God…" Yang blushes. "You make sound like I'm married to him already."

"If it comes to that, you have our blessing."

"W-what!? Mom, isn't it a little soon for that?" Yang's shock fizzles at her mother's sad smile. "…Mom?"

Raven's gaze is on the house now. She's tearing up. "It's… it's funny," she says with some difficulty. Not through sobs but grit, almost anger. "I feel like I have everything I dreamed about having. I've got family again, a daughter that might love me, a loyal husband, an honest brother. I've even got a quiet home in the middle of the woods. It already has a rose garden and a dog. All its missing is the white picket fence." Her teeth grinds. Her head shakes in disbelief. "But I have to throw it all away…"

Yang's chest squeezes. "What… what do you mean?"

Raven won't look at her. "By Summer's end, that house will be empty. And it will stay that way until you decide to enter. To come back here." Raven's hand finds Yang's. "Because we – your father, uncle, and I – will be going back to Ozpin. We'll be gone for months doing work for him. And maybe we'll see each other again, but it won't be much and never for long enough."

Yang's skin grows cold and clammy. She doesn't like what she's seeing, the sheer finality in her mother's eyes. Resigned to some inevitability. So this is what it means to be a Branwen. Somehow, she understands but she has coasted along the unknown for long enough.

"What is Ozpin doing, Mom?" She asks. "He sent out Ruby earlier this week and –"

Raven jolts into standing. "What!? He has Ruby!?" Her eyes are white with fear. She doesn't wait for Yang to answer, sprinting back in the direction of the boys. "Qrow! Ozpin has Ruby!"

Yang follows, jogging behind her.

Qrow curses. "No, no, no!" Frantically, he fumbles for his scroll. "This can't be real…" His face is going red with panic.

Tai snatches his scroll from him. "Enough! The both of you!" He breathes. "Enough… If Ruby is with him, then she did so willingly."

"But she… she…!" Qrow stammers.

His hand goes to squeeze his shoulder. "I know…"

"I can't lose another Rose to him," Raven gasps. Her sword is already out, prepared to open another portal. Tai's hand takes her by the wrist.

"And we won't," he assures. "We'll cover every gap and protect her ourselves. Maybe even see her on the field."

Jaune joins Yang's side as the other three huddle together. "What's happening?" he asks her, squeezing her hand. "They mentioned Ruby and I'm more than a little worried right now, I'll be honest."

"I don't completely know either," she says. "But it's larger than we are… Than all of us."

Raven rips open a portal before hugging Tai. She nods to Qrow, and they step into it, leaving Tai behind. With a sigh, he ambles over to Jaune and Yang.

"We should talk."

-0-

Tai explains that they all had a job from Ozpin a long time ago. That there was a serial killer and a disgraced Atlesian scientist, and that those two unsavory sorts were only scratching the surface. It was saving-the-world type stuff, and along the way they lost Summer because of it.

It still isn't done. Those two are still at large and there's word of there being more in league with them. That's all he's allowed to say but Tai has – for the past few years – allowed himself to grow complacent since they went underground.

Not anymore. He, Raven, Qrow, and Weiss's sister, Winter, will spend everyday onward tracking them down.

He lets slip that there's whispers of missing huntsmen in Mistral. Yang mentions that Ozpin had Ruby go out to that kingdom to meet someone. Tai tries not to show how much that bothers him.

They won't be seeing each other much from then on, he says. They'll try to keep in touch but they'll be knee deep in places the CCT has no signal in. He doesn't look forward to it but it'd make Summer proud that they're out there doing what needs be done.

The next morning, Yang wakes up alone in bed.

She stumbles down the steps into an empty living room, but then she hears the clamber of porcelain plates in the kitchen. She runs in only to find Jaune at the sink.

Behind him, the dining table has five plates of a warm breakfast. Omelets, tiny sausages, and a minced venison smothered in soy sauce till it's a blackish brown. Three of the plates are half eaten. They were here but left in a rush.

She slides into her seat. The noise of the chair catches Jaune's attention. He drops a letter beside her. Both their names are scrawled onto the poorly folded note.

He sits beside her. "I didn't get to see them myself but I found this and a set of keys." She shows her the worn keys and drops them neatly by her plate. She recognizes them. They're for the house and they aren't spares. One of them even has the word "FRONT" roughly carved into it. It's filled in with golden stencil. She and Ruby did that, back when they were kids.

She opens the letter and reads it aloud. "Sorry. We'll try to be home by tonight. Don't wait. House is yours."

"Not very eloquent," Jaune says after swallowing, "but they were probably in a hurry."

"Eloquent?" Yang laughs. "Where'd you pick that up?"

"Weiss had a few choice words for my poor poetry back in first year. I told you I picked up a few things from her."

He's already finished the sausages on his plate. Yang remembers to eat.

"So, what now?" he asks her. "We house sit for a few days until Ruby shows up?"

Yang shakes her head. "No… that isn't what they mean by the house being ours. They don't actually know when they'll be back. School year might even end before they do."

"That's… a long time."

"It is, but in the meantime," – she wiggles the keys – "we actually own the house."

Jaune frowns. It's deep and it cuts just as well. "That sounds like a parting gift."

Swallowing an omelet, her head falls onto his shoulder. "It is."

Then the door busts open and they hear Qrow slurring in the next room. He's accompanied with another voice, Winter's, as she shoulders him into the kitchen. She's stringing together insults whilst blushing up a storm. They're quiet them when they find Jaune and Yang.

Qrow squints as if unsure of what he's seeing. "Ohhhh," he bellows before whipping his head back. "They're still here!"

"Ahem," Winter says. "Forgive my intrusion. Present company often ends our meetings this way."

"Which is weird," Jaune says, "cause Qrow can walk just fine when he's drunk."

"He can… what?" She shoots Qrow a glare and he gives her that stupid grin of his. He's not even close to sorry. She shoves him off her and blushes against her pale skin. "You're insufferable. Trying to get a rise out of me.."

He hobbles back a step but his grin seems carved into his cheeks. "Heh, nah. I just like being close to you."

Raven peeks into the room then with Tai close behind. Her hesitation lasts only a moment before she hurries in and Yang's already bolted out of her seat to hug her.

"You came back…" Yang says. Her hands reach out grab her dad so they can sandwich her mother between them.

Raven squeezes. "I'm as much a Rose and Xiao Long as you are. I figured the world could wait till we could all say goodbye. At least."

They pull away. Raven's age shows along the harsh circles around her eyes.

"So, this really is goodbye," Yang fathoms, weaving her digits into that of her parents'. "This… doesn't feel real. Everything's happening so quickly and I just got you back and… and…"

Tai pushes strands of her hair behind her ear. "Life's abrupt," he says. "Especially when you become a huntress. You'll often find that your whole world can change in a day. Adapting to that is a skill you have to learn."

Raven's eyes narrow. "But we're not worried. I was scared for you all my life but every time I looked back, you were already over another hurdle." She holds her daughter again. "And just like then, I'll miss you every day."

Yang's grip tightens around her. Like she's hanging off the edge, held on by a thread. She can feel it slipping, digging into her palm. She knows she has to let go but there's a part of her now that's made her an Arc. She's defiant. Foolishly, optimistically, defiant. And it's with that nonchalance that she peels away and suggests, "We're all home. We should have breakfast. Like a family."

Qrow's already sat down and Winter has already eaten most of his venison. Tai insists on sitting next to Jaune again, and Yang huddles the closest she's had in years next to her mother.

Ruby never makes it to Patch. All they get is a nerve-wracking call from her that's more apology than explanation. Qrow tells them she's in a good hands.

They don't tell him that that isn't the point.

-0-

It's halfway through their second year that Jaune and Yang step back into their dorm rooms. They'd come two days early since they didn't want to stay in an empty house and an empty apartment didn't feel much better.

Jaune finds Ren and Nora snuggling by a bean bag. (Nora's messing with his hair while he goes through a book on Vacuan flora). Pyrrha isn't home since she's with her family, but Sun is lying on her bed and he greets Jaune with the kind of enthusiasm he needed.

It takes him a while to realize that his smile is forced. "Sun, please tell me there's nothing wrong with you and Pyr."

"What? Oh, no! Everything's fine with us!"

"He's been fussing about something else," Nora chimes in as she twists knots in Ren's hair. "And he won't tell his big sister, Nora, so you know it's gotta be big."

"Uh, I'm a year older than you."

She squints. "Why is everyone older than me!? I know Ruby's sixteen but I'm starting to feel like a toddler here."

"Nora," Ren says, "I'm younger than you."

Nora wraps her arms around his head to squeeze him against her chest whilst clasping tightly over his mouth. "Shh, same age, honey."

Sun turns to Jaune. "What…?"

"Nora made them have the same birthday when they were kids. Flipped a coin on who got to keep theirs. Ren lost." Jaune decides not to mention that it was to simplify a holiday for two survivors in the woods. Less stress on their resources when they buy only one cake a year and have to share it. "But enough about them. What's got you all knackered?"

"Knackered? Who even says that anymore?"

"Ylda Braveheart. Now quit stalling! What's going on, man?"

There's a knock on the door. "Come in!" Ren says. He's already put his book down and is snuggling back into Nora. She and Jaune exchange a look. Something's up.

Yang and Blake walk in. Yang joins Jaune on the bed while Blake crouches by Ren and Nora who both drag her into the bean bag with a yelp. They laugh at her expense, and for a moment it seems like it's just a visit.

Then Weiss and Neptune walk in and stand there in front of them all, locking the door behind them.

There's a thickness in the air. Jaune and Yang are already holding each other for strength. Sun curls into his knees beside them but Jaune won't have that. He reaches over and grabs his shoulder. He shuffles a tiny bit closer in response.

Weiss shuts her eyes, squeezes Neptune's hand, and stands tall. Like a performance demands, she is rigid and neutral, but it's too much and her knees wobble. Neptune catches her and reaches for a nearby chair. He rubs her shoulders after he sits her down and she's starting to breathe evenly.

"Nice and quick," Neptune whispers to her, and it's audible in the relative silence.

Yang and Blake have been standing since she buckled, unsure if they should run over and hug her. She spots them and raises a hand. "Sit, please. This will be easier if I do this without having to cry on something…"

Neptune kisses her head. Her hand finds his massaging her shoulder, and her other balls into a fist. "I'm… leaving team RWBY."

PART 9 – Adaptation

Yang is afraid she's hurting Jaune when she hears the news and tenses up, her fingers closing tightly over his. Little parts of her feel pain, like her pulse is bulging in her veins and stretching out of her skin. Then she realizes that it's her body telling her to go and hold Weiss close. Stop her talking cause it's easy to see how much all of this is hurting her and she's still so painfully afraid that her friends are going to hate her.

Yang bites her lip and leans out. Her hand is suddenly cold. Jaune had let go of it. "Go," he whispers.

She's off the bed and crashes into Weiss just as she's inhaling. Neptune backs away just as Blake runs over to join them.

Weiss stops talking cause she can't at this point. Her arms reach around them both but her nails curl into their backs as her fingers twitch and anything she wants to say is lost in her sobs.

"It's okay," Yang says. "We know you have a good reason."

"We'll still love you," Blake adds. "Doesn't matter if you're here or not. We're still a team."

To Weiss, that all seemed enough to uncoil her fears and breathe relief.

-0-

"I have to be his daughter. His heir," Weiss explains when they're all gathered at the empty cafeteria. "I'll have to play his games and do everything I can to keep my integrity and still be me."

Her sister informed her around the time of the boat trip that her father was planning to discredit her and seat her brother as next-in-line. "I know it sounds almost foolish but my plan was always to juggle life as a huntress and as an heiress. To prove that I could follow in my sister's footsteps without needing to make any of her sacrifices." Her hand, the one not holding Neptune's, falls to Myrtenaster resting magnetically at her hip. "Winter gave me so much when she trained me. I wanted to prove to father that none of that was a waste of time. It worked for a while, too. Atlas was abuzz with news on my departure. That I'd taken the strength of the old Schnee vanguard and vowed to marry it with the capitalist empire. That we were still the staunch knights we always were and that our nobility hadn't tarnished that."

"Why can't you just stay?" Nora asks, eyes gleaming like the absent Ruby. "Why does your dad get to take even more from you?"

Weiss smiles placatively at her and wishes Ruby was here too. "Because I've learned a lot in my time here with all of you. I've learned that Remnant will always have enough amazing huntsmen – there's already so many at this table." She eyes them all but stops at Blake. "But I've also learned that there's a lot of good I could be doing. A different kind of good for my people in Atlas. Human and faunus."

Blake gasps. There's a sting in her chest. "I'm… so sorry."

"Don't be. All that time staying up together has given me perspective. The kind I feel is uniquely distinct to a Schnee. I need to use that. Maybe get my brother to see it the same way."

"Will you have help?" Yang asks, locking eyes. "I'm not willing to let you go alone."

Weiss leans into Neptune. "I won't be alone."

"We'll have to keep our relationship secret," Neptune explains, "but I'll be at every function, every gala, every fancy dinner. Dad's a shipping baron so we've already let rumor spread that I'm looking into partnering with the Schnees to get trade into Vacuo."

"In a few months' time we'll be married, too," Weiss adds, giggling in way that's resigned and heartbreaking. "It's hardly the way we wanted it to go but it's how it has to happen so father doesn't marry me off for a business venture. We'd do it today if I was already eighteen."

"Are you sure he won't reject you at the door?" Jaune asks.

"Not when I come in as bargaining chip. I'll flirt my way through a few prospective suitors and he'll see I'm still too useful to throw out." She snuggles into Neptune's side and he wraps an arm around her. "We've spent weeks planning. And though I'm sure things are going to go terribly wrong at some point…"

"…We'll adapt," Neptune finishes.

Even though there's hope here, the moment feels strained. A tension in the air is either like knots in the heart or the tightening of a noose. So Jaune and Yang put on brave faces and stand up.

"This isn't how we should be spending this day together, isn't it?" she asks with a grin.

"It's a going-away party," he says, "so we should have a party. Ren? Join us in the kitchen. Let's bake a cake."

Nora's already on Weiss and Blake. "C'mon! I know a buffet outside of town that sells their raws cheap. I'll even show you two how me and Renny grilled fish! I guarantee that you two princesses won't find anything like that at your fancy dinners."

Blake opens her mouth. "Actually, we–"

"Hush! Mommy's talking."

Neptune and Sun trade looks.

"Should we get the drinks?" Sun asks him. "I know a way into campus we can smuggle alcohol through."

"Actually, just pump me full of sugar. This might be the last time I get to have soda since I'll be spending the next few years getting used to wine."

"Ew!"

"I know!"

-0-

When the semester starts, Glynda Goodwitch announces that Ozpin won't be back for a month or so still, so she'll be acting headmistress.

The sister teams are all worried about Ruby but she sends them messages with a few photos that she's on a mission with Ozpin and what looks to be a farmhand. They don't expect to be back for a while and she isn't even allowed to update them but she slips them messages anyway. (She doesn't know how long she can keep up the ruse that she had a spare scroll from before Beacon).

Yang's nerves get the better of her until Jaune convinces Qrow to give them an update. Somehow the photo of Qrow, Raven, Tai, Winter, and Ruby together like the disjointed family they are is a monumental comfort. She makes it her wallpaper. Jaune promises that they'll all get a chance to get in that picture together at some point.

With Goodwitch so busy, it leaves combat class to Professor Port. It's a blessing in disguise since the extra class drains him enough to sleep through most of his own class. He gets worried for a while until everyone gets visibly excited for what is effectively a free period and some students actually get comfortable enough to sit with him on his desk and share real stories for a change. He isn't always telling them this time either.

The teams spend a lot of time on the roof where they're allowed to grill. Jaune, Nora, and Blake make a show of their techniques and Weiss, who is sitting on the sideline, lets the collective aroma of their sizzling platters soak into her skin.

They also take turns teaching Weiss and Neptune how to cook. It'll be useful when they get a place of their own. They hadn't considered an apartment yet, actually.

"Trust me," Yang says, "after what you two are gonna go through, you could use a getaway that's just yours." She shares a meaningful glance with Jaune who blushes, suddenly unable to keep eye contact.

They make that second boat trip with the same crusty boatman. Sun and Blake tie on the number of lobsters.

They spend a night in the apartment, cramped together and drinking till sunrise. (Pyrrha learned to mix drinks with her uncle over the break and Jaune hasn't puked so much in his entire life).

They joyride in Jaune's new Highway Aries and the boatman's Beluga van to the same cabin they went to with Saph and Terra. Joan can drive too, apparently, and they decide that seating her next to the excitable Nora is a recipe for turning the winding country roads into a roller coaster. (Jaune, Yang, Weiss, and Neptune end up trailing behind the van because of it.)

They rent out a thawed ice rink and have their own school dance. (Jaune spent the week teaching Neptune how to lose his second left foot).

And they skip class on Friday to spend their last day together. Ruby even manages to call Weiss and they find out that they might even meet in Atlas for a while. (Jaune and Yang are starting to suspect that Ozpin already knows about the scroll).

In the next morning, Weiss's bed is empty cause she had to go alone in a separate flight. Neptune has to arrive a day later on a separate trip. It's abrupt and even though they all knew it was going to happen, it still feels like it came out of nowhere. The space Weiss leaves behind is palpable.

She manages to send them all one final message with a photo. She's holding Blake's little triangular team flags she made for them during last year's Vytal Festival against the window of the bullhead.

"We'll always be a team."

-0-

Jaune cracks an eye open at the sound of clicking on screen . He's in the apartment, in his room, but his door is open halfway. Through the dark he can see Yang and Blake's faces lit against a scroll on the couch. Blake is sleeping on her shoulder.

They set her up with the guest room (Yang's long since migrated all her things into his anyway) and they must've gotten up at some point last night to chat.

He shuffles out of bed, scratching his bare chest and blinking away his drowsiness.

Yang can hear him. "Mornin'… Evening? Morning. It's one-AM."

He peels around the doorframe. "Shouldn't we be quiet?" he says in a hush.

"Nope," she says, not even looking up from her scroll. "Blake said she wanted to wake up to the sound of people so the room feels less empty."

Regardless, he sits on the softly beside her. "Is that why she stayed up so late?"

"She used to wake up early with Weiss. Sometimes she'd fall back asleep when Weiss got her early morning shower, but with her gone she's hoping to sync up with me instead."

"Maybe Ren's more her speed. He gets up early to get breakfast prepped for Nora the rest of the team if she didn't eat it all when we got there."

"Too bad they're not roommates."

"Yeah…"

Blake shuffles. Her ears twitch and there's a smile on her lips.

"She seems comfy," he says, laughing. He can't help but think they've adopted a stray though he won't say it aloud.

Yang's thinking the same thing but keeps her mouth shut too. "She met with Sun and Ilia for brunch yesterday. She came in when they were already talking about him losing Neptune. She felt like an outsider listening in."

"She didn't walk away, did she?"

"No, she sat with them and they talked. Even admitted to how she felt. They tried to make her feel comfortable and Sun had no trouble talking about it, but even they admitted that it feels like she's just a step out of her element. She's going with Pyrrha to meet with them again later tonight."

"I'm guessing she's not particularly enthused?"

Yang nods. Blake stirs but doesn't wake. "She thinks losing Weiss is upsetting everything else in her life. She usually doesn't feel that kind of doubt when talking to them. Pyrrha's doing her best to help on her end, too, but she might need some more outside help to get her out of this funk."

Her scroll buzzes. Jaune instantly recognizes the sender. "Ruby?" His voice is hopeful, almost desperate.

She ruffles his hair. "Don't worry about it. If you start losing your cool, then I will too."

He rolls his eyes with a smile. "Sorry, I just miss her."

"She wanted to talk to you but she's only got enough courage to message her big sister. She's still beating herself up for being gone so long. She's afraid you might hate her."

He fishes his scroll out of his pocket, squeezes his face next to Yang and Blake's, and takes a photo. "Morning…" he types, "…Crater …Face." A moment passes after he sends it.

Yang's scroll is then blasted with exclamation points before a video call starts. Their hearts soar when they hear her whine for the first time in weeks. "Yang…! I wasn't ready!"

It's dark wherever she is, huddled in a closet judging by the hangars swinging above her. Zwei is whining and scratching somewhere in the background.

"Sorry, Sis, but we're a package deal now!" Yang says.

"We miss you," Jaune says, the look of him is anything but teasing.

"I miss you guys, too…" she looks away, head half hunched in shadow. Her expression is unreadable.

There's a shuffling on her end of the call, she looks up, eyes wide, as some light pours into the closet she's in. "Ruby?" a hushed boy's voice says. "Is everything alright?"

Her eyes dart and she gets up in a panic. Jaune and Yang stay quiet as the closet is shut and the scroll spins in the dark for a moment before her face shows up again next to the same farmhand in her photo with Ozpin. "Keep this a secret. Please?" she asks him.

"I… sure. Lips sealed. What are you–?"

"Yang, Jaune," she says quickly. "This is Oscar. He's my, um, partner for the mission I'm on."

"I, oh, uh, hi," Oscar stammers. "I'm Oscar." He slaps his forehead. "Stupid. She already said that…" Ruby giggles.

"Aw, Jaune," Yang nudges him. "He's you, freshman year."

Jaune huffs. "I like to think I was as confident as I was awkward." He gets up. "I'm getting peckish. You want any coffee?"

"The orange juice, please."

"Weak!" Ruby teases through the screen. "Milk is the way to go. Keep up the store-bought pulp and I'll be taller in no time!"

"I prefer oranges freshly squeezed myself," Oscar adds before he shuts himself up. He seems afraid to add to the conversation.

"They are freshly squeezed though," Yang says. "Right, Jaune?"

"If two days ago counts as fresh, then yeah. Reminds me of home."

Yang sniffs the air. "Are you cooking tuna and eggs again?"

"What? Clove didn't have much fish and poultry. We had beef, pork, and way too many vegetables."

"It's one-A.M.!"

"And we're out of snacks. Now do you want some of this or am I gonna split it with Blake?"

Blake rolls her cheek up the backrest to look at Jaune. The smell probably woke her. "Mm… You'll have no objection from me."

"He was a farmer?" Yang hears Oscar ask Ruby. "I thought he was a huntsman."

"Huntsman-in-training," Ruby clarifies for him. "He grew up in a farm. I don't think that counts as a farmer but he used to herd cows. Even had this brief stint when he was ten where he'd run with the farm dog and bark at the cows to help wrangle the cattle."

"Pfft!" Yang and Blake snicker. "What?"

"What are you laughing at?" Jaune asks from the kitchenette, stood in the lowlight.

"Nothing!" Yang calls back. "Feeling better, Oscar?"

"Oh. You noticed?"

"It's okay. Meeting new people can be scary. Can't have been any easier with Ruby."

"Actually, she could barely look me in the eye." Ruby bumps him but can't deny it. Oscar stays smug. "Ha ha… Had to ease into meeting her. She caught me in the middle of work and she scared me so much that I almost fell off the hayloft with the way she squeaked her greeting. I thought a mouse got in the feed again."

"Oscar!" Ruby whines. "I'm putting you through the ringer for this."

He looks scared. "Uh… mercy?"

They spend the some of that morning together. Ruby builds confidence enough to promise to make another call if Oscar can keep covering for her. They also find out Ruby is training Oscar and Yang couldn't be more proud.

They're somewhere remote and secret so Ozpin isn't taking chances with the security breach but Ruby hopes that a closet is enough to be inconspicuous. She still can't tell them why she's there but she will when they arrive.

They. As in both of them. Oscar is coming to Beacon. It should be exciting, even just a little bit. It's not going to fill the gap Weiss left behind but it means less quiet. Plus, Penny is with them and she might come too. But Yang picks up the sadness in Ruby's eyes whenever Oscar asks about Beacon. There's something wrong.

When Oscar goes off to distract Ozpin and Jaune takes Blake to the convenience store, Yang asks, "Sis, what's going on that you're not telling me?"

Ruby chews her lip. "I can't say," she says for the umpteenth time, but Yang can feel the weight of it now that it's coming out of her mouth and not through text on a screen. Somehow, that makes it harder to let it go.

"I'm scared for you," Yang admits, "I'm worried that something else irreversible is coming and…" No, she tells herself. She can't put this on Ruby. "It's okay. I trust you. I'm worried but I trust you and before you say anything, nothing you say will break that trust."

Ruby curls closer to the scroll, like she wants to hug her. "Thank you…" she whispers.

"Just come home safe…"

"I love you, Yang."

"I love you, too, Sis."

-0-

The dorm room doesn't have the comforts it used to. Yang almost feels ashamed for leaving it behind half the time but Blake tells her that it isn't something she should worry about. She always made time, even if her memories seem like a blur of blonde hair and blue eyes. It doesn't mean she valued her time with them any less.

No one can blame her for falling in love.

Still, with Blake snoozing under some double-wide bedding across the room, Yang feels alone in the room.

She sits up and she hears a startle somewhere. She realizes the silhouette she thought was Blake has been just a mess of pillows. (Blake pulled her and Weiss's beds together to get comfortable. Didn't work. All she's got now is more room to feel cold in. They still miss her).

Another hushed sound reaches her. She gets up and walks around but she stops when she spots Blake sitting on the floor against the wall. Her ears are twitching.

"What's happening?" Yang asks.

"I can hear Goodwitch in the JNPR dorm."

Yang shuffles closer. She can hear the faint tap of the headmistress's heels but nothing more. "What is she saying? Are they in trouble?"

"I thought so at first, but no. It's something about a transfer."

"A transfer? Like a student?"

"I don't know. I'll keep listening."

Yang wants to go back to bed and grab her scroll. Jaune could answer her if she asked. She bites her lip.

"There's someone else," Blake says. Yang's limbs stiffen again. "She sounds familiar but I could be wrong. She's talking about… Moving furniture?" She peels off the wall. "Maybe I shouldn't be listening in."

Yang realizes that she's probably working herself up over nothing too. "Maybe, but it got you out of bed at least." She laughs. "I've been worrying myself ragged about this team, but unlike the other two, you're actually here." Arms wrap around Blake's thinner shoulders. "I hope you aren't blaming yourself for all of this."

"I am but I know it's stupid," she admits. "Weiss having an epiphany was bound to happen anyway. And her father would have forced her to leave whether we turned out to be friends or not. But there's always that little side of me scraping at the back of my head. I'm so painfully aware that it's there that I could almost reach out and strangle it."

"Pfft! You sound like Weiss."

"Heh, well we'd spent over a year together. Some things were bound to rub off on each of us. In fact," she looks at Yang meaningfully, "you didn't explode once during that whole talk about Weiss's dad. Jaune have anything to do with that? You've been minding your temper."

She rubs the back of her head. "No, not entirely. I mean, we've helped each other along but we can't give each other all the credit. I've mellowed out cause we lost at Vytal and I crashed at a bar. Cause I came home a mess and you girls set me straight. I won't say that solved it completely. I think I gave myself enough time to ease out of my anger issues over the summer and finding Jaune and ending up in his apartment gave me places to feel normal and happy for a change." She's blushing now, can't help the heat rolling tight circles in her cheeks. "Did I ever tell you about that? No… I don't think I've told anyone. Being in that apartment let me glimpse a life of being a civilian. Not a huntress-to-be, just a girl living in the city she swears she'll die in. It felt simpler, domestic. And I kind of liked that. I kind of really, really liked that."

"I envy that," Blake says with a knowing smile lying sideways on her knees. "Not the civie life but the happiness. I'm glad you found someone. Honestly, it's kind of crazy you two aren't completely official yet."

"I, uh, I think we are? I mean, it's not like we've talked about it again since all this craziness happened but we've said the three-word thing, named our kids, we own a house together and –"

"Whoa, whoa, whoa! What? Rewind there for a second."

"To which part?"

"I don't know, all of it?"

Yang shrugs and that is equal parts everything so like her and everything that's frustrating. "I don't know. They all just kind of… happened?"

"How do you just happen to own a house now?"

"A couple birds left it on my dining table and flew out the open door."

Blake squints. "I… I can't tell if you're joking."

Yang grins.

Blake's ear twitches to the faint sound of a door closing. "JNPR…" she mouths as she hears it. "…moving out?"

-0-

Blake thinks she heard it wrong. Yang tries to tell herself they could be misunderstanding something but when they meet with JNPR, they don't mention a thing. Jaune and Pyrrha are all smiles, whilst Ren is keeping Nora from any more antics. Nothing's changed.

It eats up at Yang more than she's willing to admit but Blake doesn't need to be told in order to notice her best friend writhing inside of herself.

On occasion she can see Jaune stealing glances at Yang. He's noticed that something's off too. Sure, Yang is keeping it close to her chest, but she isn't loose in the way she usually is. And even though her being a little more guarded might make sense given recent events, Jaune's been with her long enough to notice that she's been easing back into her old self. The regression should be obvious.

Blake nudges him at the end of Port's class. "Talk to her," she says.

He nods, a determined look to him. "I was gonna wait till she was ready. I guess I have to act this time."

Blake smiles. "Just like you, she'll need a nudge sometimes."

Jaune jogs over to Yang as she rolls her eyes at something Nora says. She should be laughing instead. His eyes narrow.

"Yang."

"Oh! Hey, sorry, I thought you were with Blake and Pyrrha. Did you need something?"

His hand clasp over hers and people around them pull away and snicker. He takes her hand and pulls her to the wall and out of the way. "Don't think I haven't noticed you worrying about something. What's wrong?"

Normally she'd come out and say it. Even before they got this close. Before they were together. She isn't the kind of girl that lets these things lie. But she's lost so much in the past few weeks and she's feeling more and more vulnerable. More and more fatigued.

And this? What she's worried about? Hushed whispers in the night that might ultimately mean nothing? Half of her thinks it's fears she's digging up for herself to pile on the already rich avalanche of things she has to deal with. Another hates herself for doubting him, and that she's ashamed to reveal she doubted him at all.

But they were supposed to be able to talk about anything, right?

Her mouth opens.

She remembers her mother. She'd looked so stoic when she said goodbye, daring not to fall apart and swallowing her fears. With a sigh, she lets it go.

"It's nothing," she says with an easy sigh. "I'll tell you about it later if you're so curious but I'd like to stop worrying about nothing and focus on the things that actually need my attention."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. Now I'm hungry."

"We still have class."

She takes his hand. "I don't care. Your girlfriend needs a pick-me-up."

-0-

Yang walks back into the dorm with a spring in her step. "Evenin'," she greets Blake who's lounging on the bed.

"Had a good night, I see? He not kissing you goodbye at the door?"

"We parted ways earlier. Said he had an errand to run."

Blake stares at her with a smile. Yang returns it before going back to her scroll. Blake's nose scrunches in confusion. "Well?" Blake asks.

"Huh?"

"What did he tell you?"

Yang winks. "Sweet nothings if that's what you're asking."

Blake's face goes through a series of emotion. "Yeah. Good. Great. Perfect." She sits up as her ears sharpen. "But what about last night? With the whispering and all that?"

"Oh! I, uh, I didn't ask about it."

Blake slips out of bed. "Okay, I've had it. Waited all this time to find out so let's just go over there and ask."

"Right. Sure." Yang picks up after her and doesn't bother to put her school shoes back on.

Blake stops just as she exits the door. Across from them is the JNPR dorm and the door is ajar. She twists back to Yang. "Was that open when you passed it by?"

"I didn't notice."

They approach the door and feel a draft coming through. The door swings to the side as they enter and the thud against the wall is the only sound.

The JNPR dorm is empty. Even the blinds have been stripped away and one of the windows is cracked open.

A hole opens in Yang's stomach. Confusion, mostly. Anger, even if she can't place it. She doesn't know what's happening.

Blake's hands are sweating too when they reach for hers. "Your scroll is buzzing," she says and they run back to their room.

Yang has a message from Jaune.

'are you decent?' it reads.

'uh…. Yeah?' she replies after a cursory glance at her uniform.

'perfect'

Yang stares at the word. His scroll didn't even get to auto-punctuate it. She's already typing another message. Where are you right now? I was at your dorm and it's empty – She stops typing when they hear a grunt and a thud.

Blake's ears perk up. "Nora?"

Something breaks, like snapping wood, then Yang can hear it too.

"Hah!" Nora shouts. The thud after shakes something in their room. "Hah!" Another shudder, louder and resonant. "Hng…!" They can feel the way she's inhaling. "Hah!" Then their wall shakes.

"Hah!" Then a chunk of the wall pops out and swings aside like a portal door. They can see Nora behind the hole. She's in the next dorm room. They transferred next door instead of across the hall.

Nora peeks in with a wide grin, the light behind her shining over her features like a beacon. She pulls away and her hammer carves down into the hole till its roughly the shape of her silhouette. She kicks away the loose boards and cement around her and stomps into the room.

"Evenin' roomies!" she announces with gusto and caked in dust.

Jaune slips passed her in shorts and a worn shirt, pillow under his arm and eyes half awake. He walks up to Yang and takes her hand. "Sleepy?" he asks.

She realizes she's exhausted. Relief lets her body feel its fatigue. "Yeah…"

He pulls her to bed and they fall in together. She's confused but doesn't focus on it.

"What is happening?" Blake asks Ren as he comes in with Pyrrha in tow. (Who has already apologized but her smile doesn't slip away even once).

"Jaune said that it was starting to get a little quiet here in your dorm," Ren explains. "So, we hatched an idea to trade rooms with your neighbor's. Team ASHE took a room on a different floor instead of taking ours."

"Miss Goodwitch was very accommodating," Pyrrha says. "Went so far as to levitate most of our things from one room to another."

"She almost said no," Jaune says with a yawn, "but when I explained why we were doing it, she just sighed and drew up the permit."

"You need a permit to switch dorms?" Blake asked. "Wait, there's a permit for that?"

Nora hoists the hammer back onto her shoulder. "Permit's not for the dorm. It's for breaking down the wall."

Blake can't help but a feel a tingle under her skin, and it rolls into heat when Pyrrha and Ren squeeze her between them.

The night draws down and they got rid of the bits of dust and talk about how they're supposed to tear the down the wall. They'll put up two beams they'll have to pay for themselves but the rest of the wall can go away and there will be nothing between the two rooms in a few days.

And when they're all cleaned up (and splitting two bathrooms between six people), they push the four RWBY beds together so they can crawl under the collective sheets. In the middle, Yang sees Blake shiver happily between Ren and Nora, calmer than she has been in weeks.

Nestled against the curve of Jaune's neck, she nudges him. "Thank you for this," she whispers.

"It wasn't all me," he murmurs.

She flicks his forehead. "You're allowed to take credit for the idea, at least. Besides, I feel like I should reward you somehow."

"Fine," he grumbles but his smile doesn't sell it. "As for the reward, I'd ask about the rent but I think we should stay out and keep the bill thin this month. I don't think I can meet the payment this time if it gets any bigger with electric and water."

Yang chuckles. "Hey, you asked for the heavy down payment so you could sidestep the interest. That car is a money sink and you should've seen this one coming." He whines and she kisses his nose, making him whine some more. "Still, I'll still have to find a way to thank you."

"Missionary always works for Sun," Pyrrha chimes in from behind her.

Jaune and Yang's eyes go wide.

"What?" Pyrrha asks as they stare at her. "Too vanilla?"

Yang squeezes a pillow to her own face. "Pyrrha!"

"What? Oh! Sorry. I hadn't realized that you… It's just that Sun's been gentlemanly and I tried to get him to talk dirty to spice things up so I ended up having to do it myself and –"

"Uh, Pyr?" Jaune stops her. "That's not it. We, uh, we haven't done it yet."

She tilts her head. "Missionary?"

"Sex," Yang whimpers.

Nora shoots up. "What!?"

Yang shrinks even further. "Are you all awake!?"

Ren turns an open eye behind him and Blake peers sheepishly over the length of his arm. No one looks sorry.

"Ugh…" she groans. "Is it too late to call this a bad idea?"

Pyrrha pulls her away from Jaune and into the collective cuddle of everyone else. "Not on your life, Xiao Long."

She mouths a "help me" to Jaune.

He reaches under his pillow, pulls out his scroll into its camera, and mouths a coy "No," before the shutter snaps.

The photo goes up with the rest of the stringed ones Ruby set up earlier that year. Eventually, they flood it with more memories till the ceiling is lined with their found family gleaming from wall to wall to wall.

[master-sass-blast]

Gifted.

*tosses escapism fic into the void* yeet.

Summary: You and Piotr go Christmas shopping and enjoy the holiday season. 

That's it. That's all that's happening. You're welcome.

Pairing(s): Piotr Rasputin x Reader and mentioned Illyana Rasputin x Kitty Pryde.

Rating: G.

Word Count: 2k precisely.

Set after “It’s Truly Magical.”

A/N: On the off-chance someone asks or is worried, yes, there are no mentions of masks or social distancing in this fic. That's because, in this fic, there is no COVID (ergo, no need for masks and such). I'm just not dealing with it in my fanfic as well. I won't. You can't make me.

Wear your fucking masks irl pls and thank u.

Taglist:  @marvel-is-perfection, @chromecutie, @girl-obsessed-with-things, @super-darkcloudstudent, @dandyqueen, @leo-writer

“What a bright time, it's the right time/ To rock the night away/ Jingle bell time is a swell time/ To go glidin' in a one-horse sleigh…”

You inhale deeply, then smile. The smells of fresh pretzels and pine –the latter is likely a fake scent that the stores use, but it’s still good—tantalize your nose. You tuck your hat and gloves in your purse, then look over at your husband. “Where all are we going?”

“Ah…” Piotr scans his list –which has notes on which stores to check and what order the stores are laid out in the mall, so as to streamline things. “Kitty said she did not want gifts because she does not celebrate Christmas, so we are just shopping for… my family and Russell. You said you already bought gifts for your dad and Wade?”

“Yup,” you say with a grin. Nate’s easy to shop for –ammo, clothes, and the odd book or two are usually all he want—and for Wade you just find the weirdest stuff listed on Amazon. “And I already sent my uncle a gift from us, so we don’t have to worry about him.”

Piotr nods, ‘hmm-ing’ as he makes a note on his list. “Okay.” He mumbles in Russian under his breath, then says, “Mama had no list this year; I think we start with her first since figuring out gift will take longer.”

“That’s fine. Where should we start?”

“I think bookstore is best bet. From there, we can stop by Hot Topic and candle shop for snezhinka, then Game Stop for Mikhail.”

“Sounds good.” You link your arm through his and smile up at him. “Lead the way, babe.”

 ***

 You glance between the piles of books on the table, then at your husband, who looks like he’s about to pull his hair out. “Do you think that, just maybe, you’re overthinking this? Just a little?”

“This is important,” Piotr insists as he skims through books from various areas of Barnes and Noble –cooking, history, fiction; he’d grabbed at least one book from nearly every section. “She has specific tastes. Cannot be just any old book.”

You purse your lips together. You don’t doubt that Alexandra has particular tastes in reading material –as a woman from her walk in life is bound to have—but you’re also certain that she wouldn’t want her son driving himself insane just to pick a present for her. You sit down next to Piotr and gently put your hand on his arm. “Sweetheart. She’s going to like whatever you get her.”

“Not necessarily. I have seen her toss many books aside with scoff and never pick them up again.”

“Okay, why?”

He shrugs. “Realism. She thinks some authors are ‘too indulgent’ or ‘too unrealistic.’”

“Alright, so maybe we leave out the crime and romance stuff,” you suggest, setting the few books he’d grabbed from those areas aside. “What does she like to do?”

Piotr goes quiet. His expression grows ashen as he contemplates the question. “I… don’t know.”

“Does she like to cook? Or draw? Or watch certain types of shows or movies?”

“I don’t know,” he repeats, more insistent. “She…” He sighs. “She never sits still. I don’t think any shows or movies interest her. When I was child, she always worked. On farm, taking care of animals, helping workers, making food, balancing accounts, translating letters and schoolwork… I never saw her rest. Do something for herself.”

You let out a soft snort. “Maybe a book on meditation.”

Piotr rolls his eyes, grinning. “Perhaps not.”

“Who does she like to be around, then?”

“Otets.” Piotr smiles when the answer comes easily. “She and my father” –he holds up two crossed fingers—“are like this. Aside from siblings and me, I think he is only person she is really close to.”

“Alright, maybe a cookbook, then. That’d give them something to do together.”

Piotr nods, then starts looking through the cookbooks he’d picked. “Question is, which one?”

“Well, we know she likes to stay busy and keep moving. Maybe something that’d challenge their skills? Something they haven’t tried?” You hold up a book boasting ‘rich and authentic Middle Eastern recipes.’ “This could be good. I think they’d have access to most of the ingredients, here in New York.”

He nods again, then sets the aforementioned book aside before checking over the other ones. “I think…” He lifts a hardcover thriller novel off the table. “She likes mysteries. This one has good reviews… maybe…”

You gently take the book from his hands and set it atop the Middle Eastern cookbook. “I think it’s a great choice.”

He smiles, then kisses your cheek. “Spasibo, myshka.”

 ***

 “Bozhe moi.”

You giggle as the two of you step over the threshold of the Yankee Candle store, only for Piotr to recoil and take a step back. “You good there, baby?”

He presses his fingers against the sides of his nose. “Is like… assault of smells.”

“I know.” You inhale deeply, them flash him an impish smile. “Isn’t it great?” 

Piotr groans, still rubbing his sinuses. “Do you mind—”

“I’ll find a candle for Illyana. Wanna meet up in Gamestop?”

“Spasibo, dorogoy.”

You blow him a kiss, then head into the candle store. You take a couple minutes to peruse the holiday display at the front of the store –and grab a couple votives for you and Piotr to enjoy—before heading towards the back of the store, where all the shelves of their regular candles are. You pause to smell your favorites –seriously, the McIntosh apple one never fails to make your mouth water—before taking a step back to survey your options. Alright, what to get for a mildly angsty, queer Russian goth?

It’s not as straightforward as it sounds (har har). Illyana’s an enigma, much like her mother. She’s quiet, keeps to herself, and doesn’t usually bother with convention.

Do I go for aesthetic? You pick up a pitch black candle labeled “Midnight Forest” and give it a cursory sniff. Ugh, smells like ass. No, thank you.

You also have to consider that whatever you get is likely going to be smelled by Kitty, too. As much as Illyana marches to the beat of her own drum, she’s surprisingly conscientious of her bubbly, energetic girlfriend.

Maybe something natural? Like the farm? You try a few options, wrinkling your nose after each sniff. God, what is it with the fresh scents and smelling heinous? You debate texting Piotr and dragging him back in here, if only so you’re certain you’ll get something Illyana would like—

And then it hits you over the head like a brick.

She’s gonna use these for meditation. You head down the rows of shelves, grab a jar labeled “Vanilla,” and give it a smell. Perfect. Not too strong, not too bland. You grab a lavender scented tumbler (for relaxation), then snag a pink one that smells like the perfume Kitty favors on a hunch it’ll be a hit.

By the time you pay for yours and Illyana’s candles, Piotr’s already waiting outside the Gamestop for you, bag in hand.

He eyes your bulging bags, eyebrow raising in trepidation. “Why…”

“Look, it’s your fault for abandoning me,” you say before he can point out your lack of self-control. “You know I’m weak for candles.”

Piotr snorts, then sighs. “Fair enough.” He nods and makes approving noises when you show him the picks you made for Illyana, then shows you what he grabbed for Mikhail.

“‘Mister Mosquito?’” You nearly double over laughing. “What even is this?”

“He wanted ‘weird video game,’” Piotr says, shrugging one shoulder. “I figure this should do.”

“He’s gonna love it,” you reassure your husband. “That’s weird as shit.” You start strolling along the main hall of the mall –and then your stomach rumbles. “Can we get pretzels?”

“Da, myshka,” Piotr chuckles, “we can get pretzels.”

 ***

 “There'll be parties for hosting/ marshmallows for toasting/ and caroling out in the snow/ there'll be scary ghost stories/ and tales of the glories of/ Christmases long, long ago…”

“It’s the most! Wonderful time! Of the year!” you sing along as you rip another chunk off your pretzel. You smile to yourself as you admire the glittering, twinkling decorations decking the food court. “How’s your pretzel?”

“Very tasty.” Piotr dips a bite of his pretzel in some mustard, pops it in his mouth, then swallows before wiping his fingers on a napkin. “I think we only have handful of stops left.”

“Couple of sweaters for your dad… weird socks and-or scarves for Mikhail…” You lean over, reading off the list in his hand (which is written in a mixture of Russian and English). You take another bite of pretzel, then tap on a portion of blended “Russi-nglish” that you can’t decipher. “What’s that?” you ask once your mouth is clear.

“Random gift options,” he translates. “For filling out presents, stockings, that sort of thing.” He touches the tip of his index finger to the page, moving down the list in order. “Chocolate, books, gift cards. Guaranteed hits, essentially.”

“Ooh, I could go for some chocolate.”

Piotr snorts. “You just had pretzel. And this is for others, myshka.”

“If it’s in the car with me, I make no promises.”

He laughs, then makes an extra note on his list. “Safety chocolate… for myshka. Got it.”

 ***

 “Here, dorogoy.”

“Oh, thank you!” You smile as Piotr takes some of the excess bags from your hands, shifting them so he can carry them (which, with his strength and the size of his hands, is no problem at all). You amble along next to him, admiring the various pop-up stands boasting games, calendars, and Christmas-themed treats. “Is there anywhere else we need to stop?”

“I believe we have everything.”

“And I’m guessing we need to head home so we can make dinner?”

“That would be best, da.” Piotr looks down at you, expression curious. “Why? There is somewhere you wish to stop?”

“Eh, not really,” you say with a shrug. “I just like coming to the mall during this time of year. The decorations, the music, the extra stands and seasonal gifts… It just makes me happy.”

“Aah, khorosho. I understand. We can come back later for date, if you like. Take time to walk around and admire stores.”

You grin up at him. “I’d like that.”

The two of you make to head out of the mall, back to the parking lot—

And then Piotr veers towards the right.

“Where are we going?” you ask, giggling as he leads you towards the bookstore. “I thought we already got everything we needed from here?”

He winks at you. “Trip is not complete yet. Not with hot chocolate, anyway.”

You grin and let him guide you over to the café in the bookstore.

Piotr gets you situated at a table near the expanse of windows at the front of the shop. He leaves your bags with you, then leads up at the counter to order your drinks.

You smile, lovestruck as you gaze over at him. How did I get so lucky? You lean back in your seat, taking a moment to admire the snow falling outside before checking out the decorations throughout the store…

Which is when you realize that there’s mistletoe hanging over your table.

You chuckle to yourself. Perfect.

“You are in good mood,” Piotr comments as he returns with two cups of hot chocolate.

“Of course, I am,” you admit with a broad grin. “I’ve got you. And tradition’s on our side.”

Piotr’s smile turns quizzical. He cocks his head to the side, staring at you for a moment, then looks up when you point towards the ceiling. “Ah,” he chuckles, “yes. That is good reason to be happy.”

“I couldn’t agree more.” You hook your finger under the collar of his shirt and gently tug him towards you. “Come here, handsome.”

He lets out a soft, happy giggle and bends down to kiss you.