#'I really was an absolute pest' 'that's when I realised they probably did not like me very much'

[batsplat]

We were a good team. And we had a lot of fun in that 1996 season. Or rather, I had a lot of fun. That was me at my craziest. I really was an absolute pest. I had no respect for anyone on the track. To me they were all the same, it made no difference if it was a veteran vying for the title, or a debutant like me. I just wanted to go fast, very fast, and if I saw an opening, I went for it. I wanted to overtake everyone, come what may. In other words, I made people uncomfortable. I was fast, but I made mistakes. Too many times I threw away decent positions. I think I must have fallen fifteen or so times that season. In the very first race, I got into an argument with Jorge Martinez. We were at Shah Alam in Malaysia. I was making my debut and had secured a spot in the third row. I started very well and I'm not sure how, but I somehow found myself alongside the leaders early on. I was cruising along somewhere between seventh and eighth position. At one point, Dirk Raudies was in front of me and Martinez just behind me. Raudies' engine seized up, and, to avoid him, I instinctively braked, changing trajectory. Martinez was unable to avoid me, hit me, and fell. That was the year in which Martinez, riding the "official" Aprilia, was heavily favoured in the race for the title. I had just upset one of the darlings, one of the "untouchables" of the world championship. I finished the race in sixth place and was quite pleased. In fact, everyone around me was pleased, we were all celebrating. Then, suddenly, I came face to face with Martinez and Angel Nieto. "Son of a bitch!" they shouted. "We're going to tear you a new arsehole!" That's when I realised they probably did not like me very much. So I slipped behind the mechanic, who was a big guy, using him as a shield. The two Spaniards were rabid, they looked as if they wanted to beat me up, so the big mechanic did come in very handy, as a deterrent. But I soon started enjoying the scene, rather than being frightened. The pair of them were absolutely furious, but they also looked so funny, in the way that only short people can look funny when they get really angry. And both of them were tiny, unintimidating in every way. I was not really worried at all.

Valentino Rossi in his 2005 autobiography, What if I had never tried it

he went on to beat jorge martinez for his first ever race win - from the rec list:

[hxhhasmysoul]

I saw a post about yuji not having a sense of self and his cog mentality and he needs to first save himself, I would like to know what you think of it and if you agree then how will yuji gain it back?

Tbh I am asking this because having a sense of self is equivalent to having a strong soul in jjk which is basically to understand ourselves thoroughly and yuji knows himself. He already possesses a high sense of self which is to help/save people and because he doesn't want to die alone that's why he was able to suppress sukuna and sukuna also acknowledges that yuji's soul is indomitable/ unbreakable.it never changed. Like remove him from jujutsu world and he still would do something similar to that, gege also said if not sorcerer he would be a firefighter saving people.. He lost his will to fight but as soon as to do showed him a thread to hold on he took that instantly .same happened when todo appeared a second time and yuji was worried about others being killed

I personally see his cog mentality as his coping mechanism because sukuna and mahito destroyed his perception regarding curses and jujutsu world,his reason to fight kind of like until shibuya he never really understood the reason why he has to die as vessel .. They kind of opened his eyes and showed him what he is actually up against. It's just like mahito said that this wasn't some kind of pest control , he isn't naive but he repeatedly failed in his goal which weakened him. His desire to save people is both his strength and weakness.

Even when yuta wanted to kill him he defended himself although half heartedly , he even then didn't want to die ,was looking for reasons to save people and that is before megumi showed up . And he started to rely on others more. Even hakari notices that he calls himself cog but his behavior isn't like one... Megumi is the perfect example of cog.... I am waiting for his reaction to yujo to determine whether now he will finally acknowledge the reality of the jujutsu world and try to take matters into his own hands..

I mean, if Yuuji ever truly lost his sense of self and his strong soul, Sukuna would’ve taken over because that’s how that vessel business goes.

I agree that the cog mentality was a defence mechanism. Mahito did force Yuuji to admit to wanting to kill instead of save, and right after as you mentioned Sukuna’d made Yuuji realise why he needs to die. And then Megumi decided to make Yuuji feel more guilty for everything that had happened, because I’m sure Megumi felt super fucking guilty for releasing Makora. Megumi expected two people to die, Haruta and himself, not the whole fucking district becoming a crater. So he tries to spread the blame. 

And the cog mentality helps to deal with guilt. It absolves to some extent because it lets both Megumi and Yuuji offload some of the responsibility onto greater powers and the jujutsu system. 

And you’re absolutely right about Yuuji. The thing about him is that his core convictions are unshakable. He always values human life even if he stumbles, even if it’s not 100% selfless. 

To me that’s a very nice portrayal of someone who is heroic, because it feels true. It’s not mindless, it’s not divorced from who he is or what he’s going through. He wants to save people but he is allowed his weaknesses, he’s allowed to fear and to not want to die while at the same time saying he’s ready to die to take Sukuna with him. He’s human, not an icon so he is full of contradictions. To me it makes his attempts to protect others more sincere because they come with him constantly trying to reconcile his inner contradictions, it is his strength and his weakness. He constantly rebuilds his sense of self because life makes it clear to him that it’s impossible to be just selfless and pure and good. That’s inhuman and Yuuji is amazingly human and a good person. He probably doubts the latter but I think that a part of being a so-called “good person�� is being aware of your own limitations and actually being open to the world around you. Like not deciding up front what is good and what is bad and sticking to it no matter what, even if the world gets complicated around you. I don’t know if it makes sense XD But a strong sense of self to me is not something rigid and static, it's something that constantly grows with the person. That constantly reconciles the self and the world that the self is a part of. And it is one that isn't afraid of reality.

Yuuji wins with Mahito because Mahito thinks that his soul can adjust to anything but it actually can’t. He manages to bring darkness out of Yuuji and Mahito’s world changes. He was the nihilist to toy with everyone, the one to torment Yuuji’s soul. He was the strong one in that relationship but instead of breaking Yuuji, he created a monster. His sense of self was built on human life being meaningless, souls being a dime a dozen but suddenly his own soul is on the line. He can’t be nihilist about his own soul, it’s an inner contradiction he can’t reconcile in the moment. Another being that from a predator he became just a curse, like all other curses hunted by a sorcerer. Curses seem to think that because they can’t lie, they always see the truth. But truth comes from perception, as long as something seems true to someone it’s not a lie. And it’s a huge shock to realise you haven’t seen the whole truth even when you were so convinced you are the ultimate truth seer because you could see souls. 

Yuuji manages to incorporate the contradiction Mahito forces onto him into his sense of self. Also I won’t get into it but I personally find the equivalence between humans and curses as kinda forced and not truly holding up to scrutiny upon inspection. 

Sorry it took me so long to answer. Thank you for the ask. I hope my answer makes sense XD

[nxrthmizu]

kill em’ with kindness

fandom | miraculous ladybug 

genre | lila salt, so much salt 

summary | marinette takes the high road to a better life. 

w.c | 8.1k 

author’s note | had this idea for a few days after i wrote victory tastes bitter, which really blew up on ao3 (thanks for all the support <3). always wondered what it would be like if marinette just. played nice. so here she is, being an absolute badass. 

author’s note.2 | okay so since i did not write this in one sitting, i get that the story probably doesn’t flow as properly as it should. will edit if i ever find the will to do it. 

Marinette was done. They wanted her to be a model student? Fine. They wanted her to stop being mean? Fine. They wanted her to be friends with Lila? Fine.

Luckily for Hawkmoth, no akuma plagued the sky of the previous night, or she would rain hell on him. There was no more tolerance left inside her to spare, and she certainly wouldn’t go out of her way to make some for the manipulative pest problem Paris has had for way too long.

She looked up into the mirror, having exchanged her pigtails for a low ponytail, strands curled to frame her face. Bluebell eyes glistened with a fire that burned brighter than hope— Hope that her ‘friends’ would see sense. Hope that Adrien would be there for her. Hope that the good guy would always get the happy ending. No more being patient, no more being passive, no more putting up with things she didn’t have to.

If Lila Rossi wanted a battle, then fine, a battle she would get. Marinette was lowering her white flag, replacing it with a battle emblem that scorched red, redder than blood and redder than the anger her friends would feel when she was finished. No more peace negotiations. Rossi wanted a fight, Rossi wanted a challenge. Who was Marinette to deny her from what she wanted?

They didn’t know what was coming for them.

The power of makeup was truly one that reigned apex among the world. A few touches of her makeup brush was all it took to erase her dark eyes from existence, give her skin a more radiant glow (She promised that she’d take time to give it a natural glow after she was done being nice), and ease a cherry-pink blush onto her cheeks, making her freckles stand out more in contrast. Marinette Dupain-Cheng meant business, and when she meant business—

“Good morning, Marinette! You look great today!” The head of the student council, a sensible, down-to-Earth blonde by the name of Noelle smiled, speeding up slightly to catch the bluenette on the steps of Francois Dupont. “Love the new look.”

Ah yes. The new look— A royal blue blazer, detailed with golden embroidery of cherry blossoms bursting at the sleeves and the collar, accompanied by a classy-looking silk blouse tapered with a soft, black felt. The pleated black skirt (Made from heavy cloth so that it wouldn’t flap about in the wind) was lined with a beautiful scarlet at all the edges to complete the look. Knee-high black socks trailed all the way into the slight heels that Marinette had added flower adornments on, just so she could tap a little of her own touch on it.

“Thank you,” Responded the bluenette with a smile.

“Woah! Someone looks like they got a good night of rest.” Madeline, the president of the Art Club teased, flocking to the other side of the girl. “That mascara looks sharp enough to kill, girl!”

Sharp enough to kill?

Oh, that wouldn’t be necessary, Marinette mused to herself, sending out thanks to those who had complimented her on her way to class. Nothing sharp was going to be required for the liar’s downfall— No, no. That would just be too messy, and she wouldn’t even think of staining her new outfit. Of course, the ensemble was crafted from her own hands, as stated by the classic MDC that graced the inside of her blazer, the collar of her blouse, and one of the pleats of her skirt. Besides… Lila wasn’t worth getting her hands dirty.

She was going to do things the right way.

The kind way.

“Good morning, everyone.” She greeted, walking into the classroom, garnering their attention with her punctuality. Every set of eyes in the room were attracted to her, like iron fillings to magnets. Some of the gazes were malicious, hateful; Some were doubtful, wary; One was pleading, as if spelling out ‘Please keep taking the high road!’— And then there was Chloe, who was entirely uninterested.

Good, Lila was already present.

“I’d just like to take a minute of your time. Won’t be too long, I promise.” She took a deep breath, ignoring the imploring gaze that dug at her side, courtesy of a blonde that sat in the front row (And no, it wasn’t Chloe she was referring to). “I’d just like to say…”

The class watched with bated breath.

“I’m sorry.”

Alya blinked. So did everyone else in the room. Stunned faces greeted Marinette’s apologetic one, including Lila’s— She didn’t even have to fake her reaction. What on Earth was Marinette trying to pull off? What kind of stunt was this?

“I realise that I’ve not really been the best version of me lately,” She admitted sorrowfully. I haven’t been the best version of me because I was being boycotted and isolated, “It wasn’t fair to put you all through this,” It wasn’t fair that you idiots had to lose all your reputations because of the words of one liar, “And people got hurt as a consequence,” Me. I was the one who got hurt. “I realise that things haven’t been all smooth-sailing in our class lately, so I’d like to apologise to everyone.” I’d like to apologise for not being able to save you from a liar who only sees her own personal gain.

A practiced breath escaped Marinette’s throat as she waited for her cue— The school bell— And set her bag on the teacher’s desk. Good, everything was unfolding right on time. Not quite far away, there was a distinct clack-clack-clack of someone’s heels— An auburn teacher, perhaps? Marinette reached into her backpack and drew out a package she had meticulously wrapped in brown paper and tied in golden ribbon. Sitting passively on top of the package was a small note, decorated in hand-drawn flowers and a hummingbird in the corner.

“Here,” Marinette strode up the steps of the class, stopping right in front of her former seat— Now Lila’s— Internally taking pleasure in the first time she’d seen the Italian’s true expression. “For you, as a token of my apology. I understand if you don’t want to forgive me,” Marinette swallowed painfully, biting her lip, as if she was trying not to cry, “But I just want to make things right.”

Lila blinked.

What the hell was happening?

The silence was broken by a quiet sob, one that did not originate from Marinette. Instead, Mlle. Caline Bustier stood in the doorway of the class, clutching her books and notes for the day’s lesson, wiping away a tear that dropped from her eye. “Oh, Marinette,” The teacher sobbed, “I’m so proud of you.”

“That’s so sweet of you, Marinette.” Rose sniffed, wiping away a few tears of her own that had started dripping during the bluenette’s speech. Juleka patted her girlfriend’s back, trying to calm the emotional blonde before she cried out a tsunami on top of her textbooks, giving Marinette a thumbs up to show her approval.

Alya beamed, seemingly proud of her former best friend, who had (In her opinion) finally started to see sense. “I’m so proud of you, girl!”

(Adrien was too shocked to form any words.)

“Could you… Open it?” Marinette asked hopefully, ignoring the teacher for the favour of the liar who ruined her life. “I… Just want to know if you like it.”

The Italian could do nothing more than grit her teeth when Alya urged her to open it. What kind of trick was Mari-Brat up to? Never mind— She’d just spin it into something stupid and the class would take to it like starved animals. With no other choice, she tore apart the brown paper, discarding the golden ribbon on her desk. The class gasped, oohs and aahs echoing all around as the package unfolded to reveal a pretty, beige-coloured cardigan, hand-stitched with murals of foxes, jumping livelily among berry bushes.

Stitched into the inside of the cardigan in pastel blue were the words ‘Lila Rossi’, done in an exquisite cursive that could no doubt only come from Marinette’s hand.

“I made it for you myself,” Marinette sniffed humbly. “I know you’re a really great model and you’ve probably seen clothes that are much better than this one, but I poured all my feelings into it. I spent every night of last week working on it, and—” She hiccuped rather loudly, instantly covering her mouth with her hand in embarrassment. “I just hope you like it.”

“I…” Lila was at a loss for words. She had an itinerary full of the lies and stories she would spin that day (“Marinette texted me mean things last night,” she would weep tearfully to Alya, sniffing and wiping away tears on Alya’s shirt sleeve, “I just want to be friends but she just keeps… Attacking me!”) but no matter. A smirk danced along the Italian’s lips. “Did you design this yourself?” 

Judging by the smirk that Marinette could practically hear in the other girl’s tone, the liar already had a trick up her sleeve. If Marinette had to guess... 

Something along the lines of she stole this design from [random designer], who just coincidentally had the time to be Lila’s friend. Or maybe the friend of Lila’s grandmother. Whichever didn’t matter much, because Marinette was prepared. 

Marinette crossed the room in mere seconds, returning back to Lila’s seat with a sketchbook that she’d pulled from her bag. “Here!” She chirped, flipping open the page with an exercised movement, not even having to shuffle through the pages to find the correct sketch. “I brought the original sketch, just in case you wanted to see it so you could get a professional to redo it for you.” 

Lila opened and closed her mouth like a gaping fish out of water. Beside her, Alya’s eyes sparkled, envy still glowing in her eyes at the sight of the intricate foxes, coloured in hazel, gold, and orange threads. 

“Thank you, Marinette.” Lila gritted through her teeth, basically seething at the thought of having to thank the girl in front of her, who was smiling like an innocent sunshine child. 

The bluenette then turned her attention to her homeroom teacher. “Sorry for interrupting and taking up class time, Mlle. Bustier.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marinette,” Mlle. Bustier wiped at her eyes, slightly embarrassed now that the whole class was watching her cry at the sight of her ‘model student’ correcting her wrongs. “E— Excuse me.” She mumbled, clearing her throat. “Let’s pick off from where we stopped yesterday. Open your textbooks to page 63, please.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The rest of the day went along smoothly. Marinette sat at the back of class, as usual, sighing in boredom as class was derailed off course, whisked off by another one of Lila’s tall tales. Honestly, they were already weeks off schedule— How the hell were they expected to sit for the final exam, at this rate? 

She huffed quietly to herself, watching Bustier trying (and failing) to act like she wasn’t interested in Lila’s story. The woman— An actual adult— Fell for Lila’s usual tricks like a fool, taking in every single word in drunken thirst. Did Mlle. Bustier really have nothing better to do than get absorbed in a teenage girl’s wild fantasies (in a way it was like that). At that thought, Marinette sat up straighter in her chair, an idea going off like a lightbulb above her brain. 

Was it...? 

After further thought, Marinette settled back into her chair, humming thoughtfully as she drummed her fingers against her table quietly. Yes... Yes, perhaps. 

Perhaps it was possible. 

The rest of the lesson passed in wasted time as the class took a major detour to go on a warped journey through Lila’s lies, and before Bustier knew it, the lunch bell had rung. Students chattered animatedly as everyone got up, Mlle. Bustier’s announcement of ‘please go home and study this chapter by yourselves, everyone’ was pathetically drowned out by the rest of the noise. 

Marinette collected her things quickly, needing her exit from the classroom to go off without a hitch, exactly the way she planned it. “I’ve got to go back to my parents’ bakery for lunch,” She said shyly, shrinking into herself as her classmates turned to look at her. “I... Was thinking of bringing some macarons back later. Before I go, though... Lila, is there anything you’re allergic to?” 

“What?” The girl being asked snapped back as a reply, the words leaving her mouth too fast for her to register. Before she knew it, the whole class was staring at her, mouths agape. “I... I mean.” Clearing her throat, the liar plastered on a sweet smile. “What was it, Marinette?” 

“I wanted to bring some macarons back for everyone.” Shyly, the bluenette repeated her plans. “And... Since I’ve been in class with everyone else here for a while, I know their allergies, but not yours. Is there anything you’re allergic to that could be in baked goods?” 

The Italian cursed under her breath— Mari-Brat really wasn’t letting up. The bluenette had made sure to cover any ground that the Italian could use and turn back against her. “As far as I’m concerned, I’m not allergic to anything.” 

Brightening visibly, Marinette nodded, shooting the Italian a smile. “I know things between us aren’t going to get better immediately, but I promise to do my best in fixing things! See you guys after lunch.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Lila was getting really, really fed up. For the whole morning, she wasn’t able to come up with any reason to blame Marinette. If things kept going at the rate that they were, the class would be fully convinced that the bluenette was a changed woman, and that couldn’t happen. There was, in the end, a downside to having such a gullible bunch of classmates— Sure, they swayed easily to her side, but that meant that they swayed back to Marinette’s just as easily. 

Hissing under her breath, Lila looked up to catch Alya and Nino’s concerned looks. 

No. 

She was Lila Rossi. She was resourceful. She had Gabriel Agreste behind her back. She was powerful. She was not going to let Mari-Brat halt her plans in their tracks ever again. 

“I’m going to go use the bathroom real quick,” She said, excusing herself from the lunch table. Perfect! Now all she had to do was come back in tears, saying that Marinette confronted and mocked her in the bathroom, and the class would be all hers, once again. 

Little did she know that Dupain-Cheng was one teensy step ahead. 

As soon as Lila rounded the corner of the cafeteria, Marinette appeared, having just had a lovely chat with Rose (And Juleka, although it was Rose who did most of the talking). The two were at the front steps of Francois Dupont, having a lovely couple moment that Marinette hated to interrupt— But she needed to have at least a word with them. 

“Rose, Juleka!” Marinette greeted, box of macarons held carefully in her arms, as if it were a box of important jewelry instead of just a box of pastries. “Oh— Rose, is that a new watch? I’ve never seen you wear it before!” 

“Yep, it is!” Rose beamed, delighted that someone (Besides Juleka) had finally noticed it. “Isn’t it pretty?” Indeed it was. The watch in question was a pretty, intricate-looking thing done in rose-gold metal, with a pastel pink leather strap holding it down. The background of the watch face was a white background with a thin film of rose-gold metal, cut to resemble a wall of precious rose vines. 

“It is!” Agreeing wholeheartedly, Marinette offered her classmate a smile. “Oh by the way, what time is it?” 

Rose peered at the watchface, returning the answer with an equally-bright smile. “11.47.” 

“Thank you.” Marinette thanked, continuing her way through the school until she reached the cafeteria. Just before she fell into line of sight, though, she hid behind a wall, peering over the corner until she spotted the table she was looking for. 

Perfect— Lila just walked away. Marinette thanked the gods for all the luck that she was having— Okay, maybe she thanked one god in particular more than the others. Gently, she patted the secret pocket that was sewn into the lining of her blazer— Tikki, who had magic powers, managed to create a miniature ‘room’ inside the secret pocket, with the pocket itself acting as a portal of sorts to the room. After a few seconds, she felt the pocket tap back, managing a small smile of gratitude for her kwami’s constant love and support. 

“Hey, Alya, Nino.” Marinette greeted shyly, box of macarons propped up against her hip. “Where’s... Lila?” She hesitated slightly with her question, acting as if it was a little out-of-place to ask about the Italian girl. 

“She went to the bathroom.” Nino provided, mouth still full of unchewed food. This gifted him with a smack from his girlfriend (“Don’t talk with your mouth full!” she scolded,). 

“Oh, I see.” I definitely see. I know what she’s going to try and pull later— I have to time this properly. Timing is everything. 

Marinette continued to make small talk with the two, whom she had not talked to for a very long time. Much to her surprise, they were very warm and accepting, quite unlike the people who slung slurs and accused her baselessly a few days ago. One morning made all the difference to people who believed anything, she supposed. 

All of a sudden, something in her chest buzzed, as if it were a fire alarm, vibrating in warning— She had to go. “It was nice talking to you guys again.” She admitted, having briefly dipped into a pool of what their friendship used to be like. “But I have to go. I promised Kagami I’d meet her for a few minutes before lunch ended.”

Alya’s eyebrows jumped up comically in surprise. “I didn’t know you still talked to her. I thought you two were… Love rivals.”

“So what if we were love rivals?” Marinette shrugged with a simple smile. “Adrien is… As much as it’s odd to admit, he’s just a boy. Neither of us let him get in between us. He’s just a boy, and it’d be stupid for us to not get along just because we like the same boy. It doesn’t bother Kagami that we used to like the same boy, so why should I let it bother me? Besides,” Marinette tilted her head slightly. “It’d be stupid to give up a great friendship just because of a boy.”

With her last words still hanging in the air, Marinette turned tail and left, walking faster than usual. She had little time left— As she neared the wall that would shield her from the view of the cafeteria, she sped up her footsteps, practically half-sprinting just so she could get out of sight before Lila Rossi returned, looking like someone just killed a puppy in front of her very eyes.

“Oh my god, what’s wrong?” Alya jumped to her feet instantly, reaching out to comfort her best friend, who was moments away from having tears stream down her cheeks.

“I… I thought she’d changed.” Lila sniffled, biting her lip to appear as if she was desperately trying not to cry.

Alya frowned. “Who?”

“Marinette.” Lila stated as if it were obvious, faltering for a moment— Why had Alya bothered to ask? Shouldn’t it come pretty obvious? The liar dismissed the thoughts and continued in her performance. “She threatened me in the bathroom. She… She confronted me and mocked me, saying… Saying that all of you… All of you are idiots for believing that she’s changed. She… She said everything was an act to turn you all against me.”

Nino’s jaw dropped so far that it touched the floor. “Uh… Dudette, are you sure it was Marinette?”

“Yes!” Lila spun to look at him so fast that it was a wonder she didn’t break her neck. “Are… Are you doubting me? Oh my god, it’s working. She’s turning you guys against me. I just want to have friends, I don’t get why she hates me so—”

“You’re… Absolutely sure it was Marinette? You saw her face?” Alya repeated her boyfriend’s words, emphasising each and everyone of them as she looked Lila in the eyes.

“Alya, not you too.” Lila sniffled, tears basically dropping out of her eyes like big, fat droplets of salt water. “It was her— I saw her blazer, it had MDC stitched onto it.”

An uncomfortable silence settled in between the girl and her boyfriend, neither quite knowing what to say. “Oh. I… I see.” Alya said at last, turning back to her food. “Well… Lunch is almost over. Let’s… Let’s get back to class.”

“Marinette just threatened me in the bathroom!” Lila puffed up, clearly upset now. “She mocked me! She called you guys stupid for believing her act!”

“Dudette.” Nino shattered the ice-cold silence at their lunch table, swallowing heavily. “Marinette was with us the whole time you were in the bathroom.”

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

The tension inside the room was so thick that Adrien could cut it with his bare hands. God, what had happened? The day had started off so well— Marinette agreed to be friends with Lila, god bless the girl— But as it turned out, one hurdle folded over only to be towered over by a taller one. 

“Alya—” Lila began tearfully, her pitiful look attracting the sympathy of those who still didn’t know what was going on. 

“You claimed that Marinette threatened you in the bathroom.” Alya interrupted. “While she was with us the whole time in the cafeteria.” 

Faltering, the Italian struggled to find a way to squeeze herself out of the tight spot. “M— Maybe it was someone else.” Reluctantly, she backed out one trap into another one. 

“You said that you were sure! You said that she was wearing a blazer with MDC stitched on it. Marinette was wearing that blazer during lunch!” The reporter shot back, Nino at her side, trying to extinguish the conflicted fire blazing inside Alya’s heart. 

The seeds of doubt had been sewn, and Lila was going to have a tough time weeding them out. “I... I’m sorry!” She burst out into tears, sobbing pitifully in front of the class, most of which were already in attendance. “My lying disease is acting up again. I... I can’t help it. I didn’t mean to hurt anyone!” 

“Uh... Is this a bad time to ask if anyone wants macarons?” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, standing at the front of the room. Her royal blue blazer had been shed, and it now hung over her arm, properly folded into half. Earlier, she had asked Rose for the time to make sure that she had a witness in case Lila tried to pull another act— But as it seemed, the Italian was determined to dig her own grave and all the work had been done. 

The students of Mlle. Bustier’s class shared looks. 

“I’ll... I’ll have one.” Mylene cleared her throat, hoping that it would diffuse the situation. 

“Me too.” Kim followed, not missing the way Marinette flinched slightly at his words. Most of the words he had said to her of late had not been nice at all— But he justified that with the fact that she was being a bully to Lila, like Chloe had been to Marinette herself. 

“Great!” Marinette cleared her throat awkwardly, slapping on a strained smile. She passed the box to the front row, where Sabrina and Chloe were, gesturing for them to pass the box along until everyone got their fill. 

Internally, Lila seethed, anger burning like a wildfire that tore down every lush sign of life in her path. The girl had never felt that livid in her entire life— Who did Dupain-Cheng think she was, having a change of heart out of nowhere, pretending to play along with those oh-so-innocent eyes of hers? 

“I... I think I know why my disease acted up again,” Lila sniffled, loud enough to gather attention again. Unsure glances passed around like an object that no one wanted, carried from hand to hand forcefully as no one wanted to hold onto it for too long. “It... It must’ve been because of... Of the cardigan that Marinette made me! You must’ve known that...” The Italian squinted at the cardigan on her desk, “... Cotton triggers my lying disease!” 

The bluenette, still passing around macarons, stopped in her tracks. Inside her mind, Marinette was shaking her head, an amused smile on her cheeks. She had to give Lila credit for that one— She would’ve never anticipated that lie from her nemesis. “That’s terrible!” She sucked in a breath, putting on a dismayed look. “I’m really sorry, Lila! I know it seems like I did this on purpose, but I promise I didn’t! To make it up to you, I’ll make you another one.” 

Is she serious right now? Lila scoffed mentally. How long does she plan to keep this going? No matter— She’ll eventually drain herself out and I won’t even have to meddle in this matter. 

Marinette sniffled, collecting the cardigan pitifully from Lila’s desk. “But to prevent future incidents, Lila, I just want you to know that this isn’t made of cotton... It’s made from the highest-quality of star silk, which is incredibly difficult to produce and is rather expensive. It’s such a pity... I thought that only the best of materials would be deserving to be used to make an apology present... I guess you can’t wear it. I’ll just make another copy of the cardigan with some normal-range silk.” Sighing, the bluenette pretended to mull in sadness for a few seconds before an idea struck her. “Alya! You aren’t allergic to star silk, right?” 

The flow of conversation redirected suddenly, with the reporter snapping to attention and nodding eagerly as she realised what was about to happen. 

“Then... Since I’ve spent so long on this, I don’t want it to go to waste... Why don’t you have it, instead?” Offered Marinette with a sweet, shy smile on her face. 

Lila, still caught up in shock by the reveal of the material— Was then slammed with a wall of flaming anger as Alya squealed, coddling the soft, fluffy material that made the cardigan the exquisite product it was. 

“Marinette’s right,” Adrien chipped in with his own two cents, “Father can rarely get his hands on that material— It costs a fortune, and if hand-made... It takes forever.” 

“Oh, I wove the silk by myself,” Marinette added shyly after Adrien’s contribution, “So I apologise if it’s not up to the quality of industry-level star silk.” 

The reporter gushed, still cooing and running her hands over the gorgeous threads of fabric that made up the cloud-like base of the cardigan, eyes sparkling and the details of the embroidery. 

Marinette smiled, returning to her seat without a fuss. The rest of the class continued to pass the pastries around, the perfect description of ‘ignorance is bliss’ as they pretended as if they couldn’t see the way Lila was shaking in anger. Alya, on the other hand, could see nothing but the garment in her hands, her ‘best friend’ having become invisible for the time being. 

Just as well that it turned out this way, Marinette hummed, twirling her pen in hand, Let that be my departing gift to Rena Rouge. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Tomorrow arrived like clockwork, never late and always on time. The crowd of students clamouring by the front of Francois Dupont hushed to silence as they parted for two dark-haired women, both of which were giving off waves of confidence. Simple conversation flowed between the two, who were perfect examples of elegance and grace, their traditional-inspired attire complementing the royal-like aura they had. 

“This dress is really lovely, Marinette,” Kagami smiled gently, admiring the way the fabric flowed around her. The designer had gifted her friend with a maroon-coloured hanfu-inspired dress, complete with hand-sewn embroidery of a golden dragon curled around Kagami’s waist and neck. The dress was completed with a pleated skirt that went all the way to the heels. At first, the fencer was reluctant about the skirt due to the limited maneuverability, but then Marinette revealed that the skirt was very simple to take off as it was just tied around the waist. 

“You look gorgeous in it. It suits you.” Marinette replied, dressed in a similar looking dress. Her hanfu-inspired dress was light pink in colour, with silver threads depicting cranes flying about freely. The pleated skirt was grey in colour, lined with a soft circle of white. 

Kagami blushed slightly. “Thank you.” Briefly, the Japanese girl wondered why on Earth Marinette would go and embroider a dragon onto her dress— Was it purely a coincidence, or...? 

“I’m really glad you decided to transfer here,” Marinette smiled softly, her dark blue bangs framing her face as the rest of it was gathered into a braid that Kagami had helped weave. “It’s going to be nice! I’ll get to see you a lot more often.” 

“We’re in different classes, though.” Frowning, Kagami wondered if she should request a change of homeroom. 

“For now.” The designer winked playfully. “Oh, I have to get to class. See you during lunch?” 

Without waiting for a reply, the blue-eyed girl moved away gracefully, leaving Kagami in confusion. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Good morning,” Marinette greeted gracefully, sweeping into the classroom with her bag over her shoulder and a package in her hands. This package was clearly not as exquisitely-wrapped as the one from the day before, as it was just brown paper and some rough string. 

Alya brightened at the sight of her friend, shrinking away slightly whenever Lila tried to say anything. Sure, the reporter did shake off the initial reaction and respond to whatever her ‘best friend’ said, but the damage had been done. 

“Here’s your new cardigan. It’s made from the same material as your shirt,” Marinette smiled warmly, placing the package on Lila’s table. “It’s a little different from the one I brought yesterday, but I still poured in all my emotions when I made it, so I hope you’ll accept it.” 

Through a gritted smile, the Italian thanked the designer, clenching her fists under the table. That was the second time in two days she had to thank Mari-brat! She swore that if she had to do it again a third time, she was going to slap someone. 

“Oh, Marinette!” Alya called out excitedly, wearing the cardigan that was originally supposed to be Lila’s. “This cardigan is so soft! It’s really amazing to wear! As expected of you, girl!” 

The bluenette stared back at the reporter, wavering for a bit. She had a feeling that Alya wanted something from her... 

“So... I was wondering...” The reporter’s expression turned sheepish, with Marinette’s internal thought-train going ah, there it comes— “Could you remove this and put my name instead?” Alya picked up the corner of the cardigan, pointing to the inside of the garment, where ‘Lila Rossi’ was embroidered on. 

“Ah...” Marinette didn’t even have to fake her nervousness. We already agreed on this, She told herself, No more doing free stuff for people. No more. “Sorry, Alya. My parents need a lot of help in the bakery recently,.. You know how it is! Family always comes first. I’ve already taken out a lot of time to make the cardigan for Lila... And I promised Kagami I’d go out with her this weekend. I’m afraid I don’t have time...” 

There was no missing the way Alya’s face fell instantly. “Couldn’t you put off Kagami for me? Aren’t we best friends?” 

“I thought Lila was your best friend,” Feigning an expression of innocence, Marinette tilted her head slightly. “You shouldn’t go around saying things like that, Alya. You might hurt Lila’s feelings. Besides, a promise is a promise. I wouldn’t want to hurt Kagami’s feelings either. Not to mention— I gave you that cardigan for free. That was two weeks’ worth of hard work. I’m afraid I don’t have the ability to take time out to alter it for free either. If you really want to get it done, you could ask an external tailor to do it for you. I know a few who can do really good embroidery.” 

Alya faltered. “But... We used to be best friends...” 

Snorting mentally, Marinette continued to hold her calm composure. “Like I said, you really shouldn’t say that, Alya. Lila might get upset and we don’t want to hurt her feelings— Right, Adrien?” 

The blonde jumped when the conversation turned to him out of nowhere. All of a sudden, every eye in the classroom was fixed on him. “R— Right, of course.” He said, forcing out each word. 

Satisfied, Marinette nodded, still wearing her ever-so-kind smile. “Exactly.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Hey, why don’t we all go out and have a picnic outside during lunch?” Alya suggested loudly, jumping up as soon as the lunch bell rang. “Marinette, you can come along too!” Something inside the reporter’s chest was stirring, and with the events of the past few days, Alya felt like she just had to quench that unsettling feeling— And the first step to that was to mend things with Marinette, even though it was the bluenette’s fault for always having been biased to Lila. Alya smiled, proud of herself. She would be the bigger person, she would forgive Marinette, she would integrate the designer back into the class again. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Marinette replied just as quickly, “We don’t know what Lila might be allergic to— She could easily trigger a reaction if we go out, especially since it’s spring.” 

A collective choir of groans rounded the class. 

“Well, I’m going to go back to the hotel to have a first-class meal,” Chloe turned her nose up at her classmates. “... Dupain-Cheng, would you like to come?” 

Shock painted the faces of the whole classroom. Did Chloe just... Ask Marinette something... Politely? 

“I’d love to take that offer, Chloe.” Responded the bluenette, graceful and flawless as ever. “Perhaps tomorrow?” 

“Suit yourself. They’re serving lobster today.” Chloe huffed. “If you’re really that busy, then fine. We can discuss...” The Mayor’s daughter trailed off as she blushed. 

The bluenette giggled knowingly. “You’d like to commission a dress from me, right?” 

“... No.” 

“...” 

“... Maybe.” 

“Alright.” Marinette nodded. “Then maybe it’ll be more convenient if I head over to the hotel after school. I’ll need to take your measurements and we can discuss the prices after.” 

“Whatever.” Chloe waved her away haughtily, a poor effort to cover up her embarrassment. “Sabrina. Let’s go.” 

“Chloe?” Alya guffawed. “Why are you commissioning something from Marinette?” 

Rolling her eyes as if Alya had just asked the stupidest question ever, Chloe answered plainly. “Because she’s one of the up-and-rising designers in the industry? Have you seen what Dupain-Cheng is wearing today? Celebrities are already fighting for spots in her commission list. Even my mother and Gabriel Agreste acknowledge her talent. I’m not dumb, Cesaire. I can recognise a future fashion queen when I see one.” 

Wow, Marinette breathed, looking at the stunned faces around the room, Chloe sure knows how to create an impression. 

“W— Well.” Stuttered the reporter after Chloe made her big exit. “Then... What about going to the bakery for lunch?” 

“Didn’t Lila say she saw a rat in the bakery the last time she visited it?” Marinette pointed out. “The health officer checked the surveillance and the claim was dismissed, of course, because my parents make sure the bakery is as hygienic as possible— But I’m sure Lila is traumatised from that incident. I wouldn’t want to force her to come along to the bakery— And we wouldn’t want to leave her out either, right?” 

This elicited another round of groans. 

Oh, I am enjoying myself way too much, Marinette chuckled mentally. 

“Then— Then...” Alya struggled visibly before she was put out of her misery. 

“It’s fine, Alya.” The designer reassured her. “I wouldn’t want to bother Lila. I’m sure she’s still upset at me. You guys go ahead. I have to go back to the bakery to help my parents out. See you guys after!” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

Slam! 

Lila fumed, hand still pressed on her locker door. What. The. Hell. Was Mari-brat trying to do? She didn’t miss the way some of her classmates sent her unsatisfactory looks after that pre-lunch stunt that Marinette had pulled. 

And what was the thing about high-and-mighty Chloe commissioning from Marinette? 

Sure, Lila would admit that the cardigan that the designer made was indeed gorgeous, and the fabric was smooth and velvety, a quality unlike any of the clothing that Lila had ever had the privilege to touch— But surely a lowly brat like Dupain-Cheng couldn’t be that popular... Right? 

Dammit, hissed the Italian girl, Maybe I should’ve tried being friends with Mari-brat instead of Cesaire. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Is that... Marinette and Kagami?” Nino gaped, prompting Alya to turn around. It was true— Walking up the steps of Francois Dupont together were the two blue-haired girls, a gentle smile dancing on Kagami’s lips as Marinette talked animatedly, her hands waving around quickly to further elaborate her point. 

Students lounging around the entrance for lunch couldn’t tear their eyes off the two and their matching dresses. Sure, the two girls had walked into school the same way that morning— But now that the afternoon sun was high up in the sky, the golden and silver embroidery was glinting luminously, revealing the true caliber of Marinette’s craft. 

“But... They’re rivals.” Stuttered Alya. She just couldn’t understand... Weren’t they supposed to hate each other? 

“They both like Adrien but they can still get along,” Nino remarked thoughtfully, taking a bite from his sandwich. “So Marinette wasn’t lying about going to meet Kagami yesterday.” 

Alya was silent. 

“Alya? What’s wrong?” Worried, Nino put a hand around his girlfriend’s shoulder, care and concern shining through his honest eyes. 

“If... If Marinette doesn’t get jealous or biased over someone who also likes Adrien...” Alya started quietly, eyes still fixed on the two girls, “Then why was she so against Lila?” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Mlle. Bustier?” The teacher looked up at the voice of her favourite student. Fondly, she smiled. Marinette had finally seen the light and changed her ways, becoming the helpful, generous, kind Marinette that served as a great example for her peers. “May I make an announcement before class ends?” 

“Of course, dear.” Mlle. Bustier gave permission instantly— Marinette was taking up the reins of leadership again! The teacher couldn’t help but do a happy dance internally. 

“I have an announcement to make, so if everyone could listen, I’d be really thankful.” Marinette started, her clear blue eyes meeting those of her classmates. 

She took a deep breath. This is it. I’ve done what I needed to do, now it’s time to finish the job. 

“These past two days... Have been great,” Marinette started wistfully. “I really missed hanging around everyone, just like we did before,” Before you all turned your backs on me and stabbed me when I wasn’t looking, “But I can’t deny— And neither can you— That the things that have happened... They had a really deep impact. And I’ve realised that I can’t just ignore that damage that has been done.” The damage that has been done to me. “So, for the better of everyone— I’ve decided that I... Will transfer classes.” 

It was as if an explosion had gone off in Mlle. Bustier’s classroom. 

“Girl! You can’t do that!” Alya exclaimed in dismay, “We can fix things! Everything has been going well these few days, haven’t they?” 

“Dudette! Honestly, we forgive you.” Nino sighed, “Things just aren’t the same if you’re not here anymore.” 

Adrien didn’t say a word, but the imploring gaze he wore said enough. Please don’t leave me here alone. We promised we’d fight together, right? As long as both of us know... 

Marinette held her hand up to silence them, and the classroom, just as swiftly, became the deadly silence that followed post-disaster. “I understand. But once again, this is for the better,” — Of my mental health, “I’ve talked to Mlle. Mendeliev, and she’s agreed to take me in. I believe that once the changes have taken place, we can all grow more freely without restrictions.” 

In the corner, Mlle. Bustier was tearing up and dabbing at her eyes with her sleeve. 

“Mlle. Bustier,” Marinette turned to her teacher, no malice in her eyes. “I’ll be under Mlle. Mendeliev’s care now.” 

“Marinette...” The teacher sobbed quietly, with Chloe shooting her a look of disgust from the front row. 

“It’s not going to be easy for any of us,” Marinette turned back to the class, “But with time, I’m sure we will all prosper. Especially since you will now be under the care of our one and only Lila Rossi.” 

Adrien looked like someone had just killed a puppy in front of him. 

“Since I am the current class president, I thought I’d pass on the duties onto the most capable person in our class.” Marinette explained warmly, never moving her gaze away from the bewildered Lila. “Lila has the most connections in our class out of all of us, and she’s met so many CEOs and entrepreneurs that she must know a lot about organising and planning. I’m sure you can do it, Lila, but...” She paused. “You can handle it, right?” 

“Y— Yeah. Of course.” Lila stuttered. 

“You promised the class that you’d get BTS to perform for the year-end fundraiser since you were supposed to be in an arranged marriage with their youngest member, Jungkook.” Marinette continued, God I am enjoying myself too much honestly, but I ain’t going to stop now, “And you said you could convince your godfather, Bruce Wayne, to allow the class to go to Wayne Enterprises for this year’s class trip.” 

“She said she could convince Tony Hawk to give me an internship, too!” Alix chipped in. 

“And that she’d bring me along the next time Prince Ali asks for her help for a charity cause!” Rose smiled. 

“She said she’d introduce me to the CEO of Graham Films!” Nino’s eyes shone at the idea. 

The class continued to talk all over one another until Marinette silenced them once more. “Now, now. Let’s not overwhelm Lila. We wouldn’t want her to be overworked or to feel like the expectations are set too high, right?” 

The class agreed, nodding along. 

Marinette made eye contact with Lila, offering her a sweet smile as she did so. Lila, on the other hand, had no taste for such politeness. Instead, she straight-out glared at the former class president. 

This is your problem now. 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette! I was hoping to catch you before you went home,” Alya panted, having been able to find the bluenette in the locker room before the designer slipped out of her reach. “You... You’re really serious about leaving?” 

“Yeah.” Smiled Marinette, organising her textbooks into her bag, dusting down her skirt. Noticing Alya’s crestfallen expression, she took the initiative to continue the conversation. “Is there anything else, Alya?” 

“Did you... Did you really hate Lila because she liked Adrien, too?” The reporter asked somewhat timidly. 

Marinette giggled. Normally, when the girl giggled, you could hear a gentle tinkling of wind chimes— But at that moment, Alya heard the freezing winds on Mount Everest instead. “Don’t be silly, Alya. All this over a boy? Besides, I’m over him.” 

“Then...” Alya swallowed difficulty. “Lila... Really was lying this whole time?” 

The gaze that swept across the reporter was stone cold, and it made Alya feel as if she was dangling over a valley of jagged rocks. “What do you think, Alya?” Even so, the bluenette maintained a sweet smile. 

“She was. She was lying the whole time.” Alya suddenly felt as if she had a shortness of air. “This whole time—” 

“Oh, good for you. You finally learned how to see further than one feet in front of you.” Marinette hummed. “I’m proud of you, really. But I’m afraid that I don’t have the time to listen to you slowly come to conclusions after I’ve tried making you see sense for the past half a year. I tried to stop you from ruining your futures, but I guess determination was always one of your good traits.” 

Alya slipped to the floor, having lost the feeling in her legs. She placed one hand against the lockers for support as she shook, weakly looking up at the girl who she was once so proud to call her ‘best friend’. 

“Marinette?” Kagami’s voice rang through the room, indicating that the girl was waiting at the doorway. “You said you were heading to Bourgeois’s hotel after school— Would you like a ride?” 

“That’d be nice, Kagami. A moment.” The designer looked down at her friend and smiled, albeit a little sadly this time— And then she lowered her voice. 

“Determination was always one of your good traits.” 

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

“Marinette,” Adrien perked up at the sight of the bluenette leaving the school doors— Side by side with Kagami, who looked ready to draw a sword and start a duel then and there. 

“This’ll just take a minute, ‘Gami.” Marinette reassured, gently patting her friend’s arm. “Why don’t you get in the car first? It looks like it’s going to rain.” 

Reluctantly, Kagami nodded. “Alright.” Warily, the fencer stepped down the stairs and into the car— But even as she sat in the vehicle, she watched over her fellow bluenette like a hawk, ready to jump out and challenge the blonde if the situation called for it. 

Adrien rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, not quite knowing what to say. Luckily for him, the designer decided to start the conversation. 

“I just wanted to say thank you.” Marinette smiled softly. A few months ago, when she looked at Adrien, she would see the kind, generous, pure-hearted boy with the finest golden hair and the brightest green eyes. Now? All she saw was a spineless, sheltered, passive child that was afraid of confrontations. 

“For what?” Adrien looked at Marinette, and no longer did he see the cute, pigtail-adorning girl that would blush fiercely everytime he tried to talk to her. Instead, he saw a beautiful, young woman, a rock that had pulled through all the odds to become a vibrant, iridescent diamond. 

Marinette was glowing with confidence, her presence diffusing into the air around her and triggering eyes to look up every time she walked by. There was something about the way she held herself that just made the woman demand awe and respect from those that crossed her path. The old ‘Clumsinette’ had been shed like an old snake skin to reveal a treasure, a better version of the bluenette that had always been waiting for her time to come. 

Bluebell eyes met green ones just as rain began to patter down onto the streets of Paris. Marinette glanced up slightly, not at all bothered as she smoothly retrieved an umbrella from her bag, holding it out for the blonde to take. A flush of deja vu burst through Adrien’s veins and through his skin as he took it with a mumbled thanks, eyes blown wide as Marinette let loose her hair from her ponytail, pulling her blazer over her head to avoid getting her head wet. 

Adrien could only gape as Marinette uttered familiar words back to him, a knowing smile dancing across her lips as she ran off into the rain as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. The bluenette looked lighter, brighter, ready to take flight and soar towards the success that her crops of hard work had finally started to bear. Before the blonde model knew it, Marinette Dupain-Cheng had slipped out of his grip, already spreading her multi-coloured wings to land among the stars. 

“Thank you for telling me to take the high road.”  

──────── ⋆⋅❉⋅⋆ ────────

this was both satisfying and tiring to write... 

[utopianvoices]

past, present, future → b.chan

synopsis: Your best friend drags you to his high school reunion against your will, and never have you encountered such chaos. Alternatively, you go on the journey of making more friends, and a potential lover.

genre: high school acquaintances to lovers au; fluff, one second of angst

pairing: bang chan x reader

word count: 14.4k

warnings: explicit language, alcohol consumption, kinda dialogue heavy (oops)

note: i am BACK with this mess of a fic. it took me too long to finish this, and i apologise for any shitty writing :3 thanks to my little babie @curanonemu​ for making sure i finished this and supporting me as usual muAH. new formatting on posts too weeeee (new year, new me fsdhfgs jk no)!! also, synopsis kinda sucks i’m sorry :P hope y’all enjoy! x

i.

You did not want to go for your high school reunion dinner. 

High school is a time for many that is either the best, or worst time of their lives. Forever friends are found there and painstakingly embarrassing memories are made in run down buildings with people you care about. Except, you didn’t have any such attachments. 

Those three years were nothing but a filler for you as you studied, helped out in the library, and hung out with one person you called your best friend. 

And on top of it all, it wasn’t even a high school reunion dinner meant for you.

The night the bomb is dropped on you, Changbin walks into the living room of the apartment you both share just outside the grounds of your university, and goes straight to the kitchen to fix himself a bowl of cereal because cooking and Changbin did not get along well. The apartment was way cheaper than the dorms your school provided, and it definitely did not have any nosy RAs who were just out there to torture students for their own viewing pleasure.

On top of all that, you could live with your best friend and not some random stranger who might very much as well be a psychotic killer. Perhaps, Changbin could have some questionable habits, like talking to himself in a baby voice while looking in the mirror, but nothing that threatened your life. 

You hear Changbin’s phone ringing from the kitchen as you aimlessly flip through the shows available on Netflix, deciding which new show you should watch and commit to, when your best friend’s boisterous laughter fills your ears. Used to the noise, you roll your eyes before increasing the volume of the TV, finally deciding to rewatch Sherlock.

Fifteen minutes later, you’re about to solve the known mystery together with Benedict Cumberbatch when Changbin walks in front of the TV, automatically eliciting a whine from you as you crane your neck left and right to catch a glimpse of the screen. 

“What the fuck, Bin?” You finally yell, frowning at the boy in front of you. Realising that he probably wanted something, considering the fact that he wasn’t moving till you asked him, you switch the TV off and settle back into the sofa, throwing him a death glare. “What do you want from me, pest?”

Something’s definitely amiss when you see Changbin shuffling his feet and looking at the ground, a guilty smile ever-present on his face. 

“Whatever it is, my answer is no,” you say distantly, leaning back into the sofa with crossed arms. “So give it up.”

“Oh c’mon Y/n! At least hear me out?” Changbin cries out loudly, dropping onto his knees with clasped hands. 

Heaving out a sigh, you slowly unfold your arms and lean forward, eyebrows raised as you nod at the poor boy in front of you. “I’ll hear you out. But don’t expect me to say yes.”

“Um...” Changbin starts, eyes darting around the room as he tries to find the right words. “So my high school friends are having a reunion dinner next week and I told them I’d go, but I also said I’d bring you along and they were too happy and so now I think you’ll have to come with me but-”

“Woah woah woah, a high school reunion party? Absolutely not.” 

It’s not like you had anything against his friends. You did have brief interactions with a few of them in high school and you knew they were pretty decent lads, but there was no way you were following Changbin to what was meant to be a friends’ gathering. 

“But why not!” Changbin whines, waddling over to you on his knees. “It’ll be really fun!”

“Yeah, fun for you,” you deadpan, staring at your pitiful best friend who has now resorted to throwing you puppy eyes. “They’re your friends after all, not mine.”

“That’s right. But they could be. Don’t you think it’s time you start finding more friends who are not me?” 

Changbin’s once pitiful eyes held something other than desperation at that moment; they held concern. 

It was true that you had no other friend other than Changbin. You knew lots of people, sure, but you wouldn’t call them your friends. With no friends to your name other than that one, it also wasn’t hard to guess that you never dated too. But all that mattered is that you were fine with it, right?

“You know that I don’t need any other friends. You’re more than enough for me. Truthfully, I don’t think I could deal with another Changbin in my life.” 

Your words incite chuckles from Changbin, but that doesn’t stray him from his original goal. 

“How about this,” he starts, opting to sit cross-legged on the floor because his knees were starting to hurt way too much. “You come to the reunion with me, and the moment you feel uncomfortable, we both can leave no questions asked. Deal?”

As tempting as that sounded, you knew it was not fair to cut Changbin’s precious time with his friends just because you did not want to hang out with new people. “That’s not fair to you.” 

Shaking his head, Changbin stares at you, the fire in his eyes clearly visible, and you know that he had made up his mind. “I don’t care. It’s either you follow me and we can leave whenever, or I don’t go at all.”

There was no turning back now. You knew that in the end, what Changbin wants, he gets. 

You sigh numbly before nodding your head in defeat, dreading the day that was to come where you had to leave the comfort of your apartment. 

With no warning, you’re engulfed in a tight hug by a nuisance chanting “thank you” a million times. You ease into the hug, wrapping your arms around him and giving him a light squeeze, before pulling back to see that he had a smile similar to the one on your face. 

“I guess you’re right about me needing more friends. I can’t be annoying you for the rest of my life, right?”

ii.

You’re once again reminded why you don’t go for social gatherings as you take in the various clothes strewn all over your room. 

“Hey- Woah, what happened here?” Changbin asks, bewildered at the sight in front of him. “It looks like a hurricane hit your room or something.”

“Yes, it’s called Hurricane Y/n Is Screwed,” you reply sarcastically, before sinking down into your bed in defeat. Looking up at your best friend, you decide to give it a shot and put on your most pitiful face. “Do I really have to go?” 

“Yes, you really have to go,” Changbin replies without sparing you another glance, as he sifts through the heap of clothes on your bed. “And get that ugly look off your face, please. It makes me want to barf.” 

Flipping your best friend off, you manoeuvre yourself such that you’re facing Changbin, and look upon him in curiosity. 

After what felt like forever, pieces of clothing are thrown at you, along with a reminder that you had three hours before you had to leave. 

“Three?!” You screech, causing Changbin to wince and cover his ears. “You should’ve told me earlier so that I have more time!” 

“What are you so loud for, you damn pterodactyl? And three hours is more than enough. We’re just going to a cheap restaurant a few blocks away because we’re all broke college students.” 

Huffing at your insolent best friend, you grab the clothes he threw at you and make your way to the bathroom, not bothering to contemplate his decision because you knew he had pretty good taste in fashion. In fact, half the clothes you had in your wardrobe were bought with him as your advisor, so you’re really in no position to criticise his choices.

You stare at your reflection and let out a nervous breath; you weren’t used to meeting new people, and there was no way you were going to be able to handle a hoard of newly turned adults. The last thing you wanted was to cut Changbin’s time short with his friends, and as you stare at yourself in the mirror, you make a promise to yourself that you’ll get through the night by whatever means. Even if it meant hours of torture.

Changbin, with absolutely no urgency, is sitting on the couch watching the fourth Harry Potter movie, when you walk into the living room, makeup half done and still dressed in your stay-at-home clothes. Boys, you think.

“I think I need to know who and how many people will be there,” you finalise, watching Changbin pick up the remote and pausing the movie at exactly when Cedric dies; poor chap. “ So that I can, you know, mentally prepare myself.”

“You really don’t, but okay. There’ll be nine of us, including you. Minho, Hyunjin, and Felix from the dance team, Jeongin and Seungmin from the baseball team, Chan from the swimming team, soccer team, and honours board, and Jisung who was pretty much useless like me.” 

“Wow.” 

“In my defense, you’ve seen all of these dudes at least once,” Changbin says, shrugging his shoulders. “Anyway, they’re all really nice and fun so you have nothing to worry about.” 

“Says you,” you mutter under your breath, before returning to your room to prepare for your doom.

iii.

The sign of the restaurant flickers periodically as you stand in the middle of the street with Changbin by your side. People brush past you as they hurry to meet their friends and families in the various restaurants lining the street, excitement evident in their steps.

Taking a deep breath, you push open the door. Immediately, a gush of warm air welcomes you, causing you to let out a content sigh.

“Hey Changbin!” A loud voice calls out from behind you, and the both of you turn in your place. The sight in front of you gives you equal amounts of anxiety and fear, as you wonder how you were going to handle the table of one, two, three… seven boys, including the embarrassment standing beside you, who was now busy doing some sort of weird wave in favour of a greeting. 

“Changbin, please,” you plead, burying your face in your hands as you willed for someone to transport you back to your apartment so that you didn’t have to face reality and stand next to your shameless friend. 

Chuckling sheepishly, your best friend finally stops, patting your back before walking towards the table at the back of the restaurant. “Oops sorry. Let’s go meet the rest!” 

Here goes nothing.

Reaching the almost-filled table, your eyes dart from face to face, trying to see if you could remember anyone currently seated in front of you. 

“Guys! This is Y/n, my best friend,”—at this, a few complaints erupt from around the table—”Gosh, fine. My other best friend.” 

Immediately, at least three people shout their greetings your way. 

“Hi Y/n! Nice to meet you!”

“Yo~ Changbin’s told us lots about you.”

“Y/n, sit beside me!” 

Exasperated, your eyes flit around the table, trying your best to smile at all of them (which honestly turns out to look more like a pained grimace). Luckily, there was one seemingly sane person present. 

“Shut up, everyone.” A boy with blue hair and sharp eyes shushes everyone. “Hi Y/n, it’s nice to have you here. I’m Jeongin.” 

At this, the once quiet table is back to chaos as complaints are directed towards Jeongin for sneakily introducing himself first. Taking advantage of the mess, Changbin guides you towards the empty seats and finally settles the both of you down. Now all the seats were filled, except for one empty seat left beside you. 

You’re about to ask Chanbgin about the empty chair, but before you can, he claps his hands, attracting everyone’s attention. “Okay, everyone will take turns introducing themselves. Seungmin, you start.”

The sandy haired boy seated on the right of Changbin waves both his hands while bouncing in his seat, reminding you of a puppy. “I’m Seungmin!”

Next is Jeongin, who just gives you a small smile. 

Beside him, you see a blonde haired boy, what is up with the hair colours, who just smiles brightly, eyes shining brightly and freckles visible. “Hello, I’m Felix. It’s great to meet you!” 

Taken aback by the deep voice, which was a total contrast to his cute appearance, you’re unable to hide the shock from your face. This triggers a bout of chuckles from the table; it was probably common for people to display similar reactions when meeting Felix. 

Before pretty boy (that’s what you decided to remember him as) could introduce himself, the black haired boy resembling a squirrel interrupts him. “I’m Jisung!” 

You recognise him as the one who shouted when you and Changbin entered the restaurant, and you’re about to acknowledge him when you’re cut off. 

“Oi Han, it was my turn to introduce myself! Who allowed you to skip the line?” 

“I do what I want,” was Jisung’s response, and pretty boy looked like he was one push away from murder. 

Just as you’re sure that you were about to witness a murder, Changbin chides the two boys and breaks up the petty argument. “Just introduce yourselves without any nonsense, please.” 

“I’m Hyunjin,” pretty boy mutters sulkily, giving Jisung a death stare. “And I can dance better than Jisung.”

“You motherf-”

“And I’m Minho,” the last person introduces himself, successfully cutting off Jisung’s profanity mid-word. “Sorry, don’t mind those two. They’re like Tom and Jerry.” 

Smiling weakly, you muster up the courage to introduce yourself to the four pairs of eyes staring at you. Hyunjin and Jisung were busy having a staredown, while Changbin was eyeing the meat sizzling on the grill. “Hi, I’m Y/n, Changbin’s friend. It’s nice to meet all of you. Thanks for having me here.” 

And just like that, everyone is back to their own conversations, with Changbin piling the perfectly done meat onto his plate. You take in a deep breath and look around the table at the happy faces. 

This isn’t so bad, you thought, a little chaotic, but otherwise entertaining. 

“They’re overwhelming huh?”

Any effort to mask your bewilderment vanishes as you catch the knowing look on Minho’s face. A guilty smile blooms on your face and you nod your head. “Just a little.”

“I get that,” he starts, but soon enough, there’s a content smile on his face that shows his love for his friends. “But at the end of the day, I know that these monkeys will be there for me no matter what, so I guess it makes it all worth it.”

Smiling softly at his words, you almost coo at the light blush dusting Minho’s face as reality catches up to him. 

“Ahem anyway. How’s living with Changbin?” He clears his throat before changing the topic, instinctively putting some meat on your plate before helping himself, earning a grateful smile from you. 

“It’s not too bad,” you start, feeling Changbin’s gaze on you after having overheard Minho’s question. “Except sometimes, he talks to himself in the mirror and it’s pretty scarring.”

“Y/n!” Changbin whines as Minho guffaws beside you, nodding his head to your answer, clearly having witnessed that side of Changbin before. “Wait till Chan comes. At least he’ll support me.” 

At the unfamiliar name, you furrow your brows and the name in the form of a question tumbles out of your mouth before you could stop yourself. “Chan?”

“He’s not here yet,” Minho addresses your confusion, having heard your little slip up. “He had to oversee the training for the upcoming soccer match, being the captain and all, and apparently he had a tutoring session after. He should be here soon though.”

That explains the empty chair beside you. 

“Oh, he needs to get tutored after training?” You ask, feeling bad for the unknown boy. Having to absorb information after physical activities is torture. You couldn’t even focus after 40 minutes of gym. “That’s rough.”

At your assumption, a cat-like smirk spreads across Minho’s face. “Oh no, darling. He tutors after his training.”

There’s no way you’re to be blamed for the first thought that pops into your head after discovering that said Chan was responsible and smart. You’ve seen people struggling with just one extracurricular, and begging teachers for extra credits because of poor time management. 

So, it’s really not your fault that the first words that enter your head is, that’s hot.

Just then, the bell situated above the door rings, indicating that someone was entering the restaurant. You’re not bothered by it, until Felix’s deep voice fills your ear.

“Chan!”

It’s almost comical how slowly you turn towards the sound, blush threatening to fill your cheeks at your first impression of Chan, without even meeting him. And as Giovanni Torriano has once said:

Talk of the Devil, and he's presently at your elbow.

Your eyes follow the figure of the devilishly breathtaking boy walking towards your table. He’s still dressed in what you assume was his soccer jersey, black hair tousled from the wind and practice. Shaking your head, you rid yourself of that inappropriate thought and opt to stare at the bowl of radish that looked the most interesting to you.

“Hey guys!” Chan smiles widely at the group of friends, as a few of them immediately get up from their seats to greet him with their usual bro hug. He sets his things down beside Minho, and is taking his seat when he spots you. Confusion clear in his eyes, he looks around the table, silently asking for an explanation as to what a stranger was doing at their usual table. 

You realise his staring and try to introduce yourself, but you find yourself unable to form sentences as the reality of who Chan was hits you. 

The star swimmer of your high school’s swimming team, and the top student of every single year. He was the epitome of popular. Everyone knew his name, and apparently he had never missed one day of lessons or training. On top of that, he used to regularly tutor in the library.

“Oh, this is my friend Y/n!” Changbin pipes up, slinging an arm around you. “Same high school as us, and my roommate now.”

At this, the confusion clouding Chan’s hazel eyes clears up, and he turns to face you, extending a hand. “The one who used to carry thick books everywhere and helped out in the library right? I’m Chan!” 

Being the complete opposite of your best friend, you’re sure no one has ever noticed you in the library. You blend in perfectly with the shadows and shelves, and you didn’t usually help the students out, opting to arrange the books in the storeroom—the one small thing you could do to help out the aged librarian who brought you mouth-watering brownies every Thursday. 

The thick books, in your defense, was your attempt at trying to finish the Harry Potter series whenever you had the spare time. You never had to explain yourself because you never expected anyone to notice. Especially not the most popular guy in school who had a million other friends.

But there he was, in all his glory, eyes crinkled into crescents as he waits for you to shake his hand, seemingly remembering you when nobody else did.

A small nudge to your side from Changbin breaks you out of your reverie and you grab his hand, silently noting how soft they were. “Nice to meet you.”

Smiling at you, he gently shakes your hand before turning to the other boys, immediately making jokes and laughing along. 

“What was that about?” Changbin whispers harshly, eyeing you and Chan suspiciously.

“What was what?” 

“Chan remembering you! You’ve never even met before.”

Looking at your best friend, you shrug before reaching out for another piece of meat. “Beats me.”

Changbin opens his mouth to interrogate you more, when he’s successfully cut off by Seungmin. 

“Y/n! Tell us more about yourself! I’m bored of hearing about these idiots.” 

Jeers sound from around the table as you let out a nervous chuckle, aware of how everyone’s attention was on you. “Me?” You ask, pointing to yourself for extra confirmation. 

Yea!” Seungmin replies, nodding vigorously. “What are you doing now, and how was high school for you, and just everything!” 

Noting your hesitation, Changbin is about to step in to save you, but your hand on his thigh stops him. Looking at you curiously, he realises from your expression that you’re finally about to do what he had been nagging at you to do since day one of becoming your friend. 

iv.

‘Is it possible for a stomach to burst from too much laughing?’ is what runs through your head as tears stream down your face from laughing uncontrollably at another joke Jisung was saying. 

“Wait, I remember Changbin telling me that people used to refer to you as Baby Photos when you all played at the school shows,” you ask after you had recovered from your laughing fit, curiosity piquing. “What’s that all about?” 

At the mention of the familiar name, the boys let out groans and Hyunjin starts hitting Jisung. “It’s all Jisung’s fault!” 

“Basically, he somehow got ahold of all our baby photos and submitted it to the administration on behalf of us,” Changbin explains, rolling his eyes at the memory. “So if you see our yearbook, all eight of us have our baby photos instead of the actual photo we were supposed to submit.” 

How is that even possible?!

“We still don’t know how he managed to do that.” Chan answers your unasked question, shaking his head fondly at the ridiculous memory. 

At this, Jisung pipes up. “Everything is possible when you’re charming and handsome. You lot won’t be able to relate!” 

And you finally agree that the beating Jisung gets after was well deserved. 

“Restaurant’s closing in ten!” 

The owner of the restaurant, a nice old lady who had a soft spot for the boys, calls out from the back. She had already let all of you stay past her usually closing time, and even gave you some free side dishes, together with a loving chide about how the boys don’t come and visit her anymore. 

The screech of the chairs fill the place as everyone gets up, stomach and heart full from the meal and company. You smile to yourself, glad that you let yourself be convinced to follow Changbin because you had one of the best days in your life. 

“Did you have fun today?” Your best friend asks with a smug smile, already knowing the answer.

“Shut up,” is all you can say—a clear sign that you were admitting defeat. “It was okay.”

“That wounds me,” someone speaks up from behind you, having heard your conversation with Changbin. You whip around to see Chan clutching his heart and wearing an exaggerated hurt face. “I thought we had a connection.” 

“I-you, no, that’s not-what” you splutter, horrified at the thought of Changbin’s, and now apparently your, friends thinking that you didn’t have a good time with them. There was no way you could let them think as such when they had made you feel so comfortable, and have so much fun. 

Your stuttering and horrified expression does it, and Chan bursts into laughter. “I’m so sorry, it was a joke. But your face!” 

The guilt and regret is replaced with relief and irritation, and you smack his arm out of habit, something you always did to Changbin when he was being a pain in the ass. But as soon as you do it, you’re once again filled with regret because Oh my God it’s only been two hours, you’re not supposed to just smack people.

“Stop overthinking it, idiot,” Chan cuts you off, adding in a low tier insult to make you feel a bit better about your reflexes. “We’re friends now; all of us.” 

Friend to friends. Now that’s an upgrade.

You’re about to say something, when you’re cut off by Changbin screeching unceremoniously as he glances at the time displayed on his lockscreen (it’s a picture of the two of you making ugly faces—he refused to change it).

“Shit, we’re going to miss the last bus that leaves from here!” He almost shouts, grabbing his and your things. “Adios bitchachos!”

A snicker or two echoes through the empty restaurant at Changbin’s farewell, together with requests of bringing you the next time they meet.

“Make sure Y/n comes for the next dinner! Doesn’t matter if you’re here or not!”

Jisung earns himself a string of vulgarities from Changbin for that, as he guffaws and hi-fives Hyunjin. 

You’re barely able to say your farewell to the boys with Changbin dragging you out of the restaurant, but you manage to shout out a few words while waving. “Thank you for today! See you soon!” 

The bus arrives just as you reach the bus stop, and Changbin all but collapses on one of the empty seats from the running you both did. 

“I think I’m going to throw up.”

“You’re foul.” You’re staring at your best friend in disgust when he starts questioning you about the dinner, nausea forgotten. 

“So…” he starts, pivoting in his seat to face you, cheek leaning against his hand which rested on the seat in front of him. “For someone who was dead set on not coming, you sure looked like you had lots of fun.” 

Rolling your eyes at his words, you turn to face Changbin. “Isn’t that what you wanted? Me making more friends?”

“Of course, of course~” he drawls, smirk ever-present on his face. “And who do we have to thank for that?” 

“And you ask me why I don’t listen to you or ask you for favours.” Turning your attention back to your phone, you open up Temple Run in hopes of keeping yourself occupied for the bus ride back; but Changbin had other plans. 

Whining, he snatches your phone from your hands and slips it into his pocket. “Y/n! Tell me everything!”

“What do you want to know?!” you ask, exasperated. “You were there literally the whole time.” 

“Yes I know, but I want to know what you think of all my friends!” Changbin claps his hands in excitement, leaning forward in anticipation. “Well, our friends now.” 

You can’t help but sigh as you prepare for the long bus ride ahead—but somehow, you don’t miss the sudden warmth enveloping you as you recalled the past few hours. 

“First of all, Jisung and Hyunjin are hilarious, it’s like…”

v.

Two weeks later, and you’re knee deep in shit. Not literally, of course, but you might as well be. 

It’s the infamous hell month in your university, where every student (regardless of major) has a shit ton of assignments and tests to complete, and the library is open 24 hours for poor souls like yourself. 

It’s two in the morning when you’re working on your second essay of the day. There are crumpled balls of paper all over your desk and surrounding your bin, courtesy of your pathetic aim. 

“You’re cleaning everything up later,” Changbin speaks up from across the dining table you both were sharing to get work done, tapping away on his equipment as he works on some new beat. “I don’t expect every ball to go in, but to miss everything? That’s some serious talent.”

“Shut your mouth, Seo.” Flipping your best friend off, you finally push yourself away from the table, stretching a bit before making your way to the kitchen to fix yourself a bowl of ramen in hopes of satiating the beast growling in your stomach.

As you open each shelf, you slowly come to the realisation that you were completely out of snacks and food. Even the single frozen bag of peas and empty ice cream tub stares back at you in pity as you scan the fridge. 

Taking a breath to calm yourself, you slowly turn around to face your unsuspecting, so-called, best friend. Walking towards him, you knock the table a few times to get his attention.

He notices your presence, and removes his headphones to look at you quizzically, his full attention on your blank face.

“When were you going to tell me that you had consumed every single food item we have?”

It’s almost comical how quickly the blood drains from his face, as his eyes dart all around the room, skillfully avoiding you. If it were any other situation, you would’ve definitely laughed while falling onto the floor. But this wasn’t any other situation.

This was war.

And honestly, it would have been a war that you would’ve definitely won—if not for the loud sound your stomach just produced.

Narrowing your eyes at the accused seated a few feet away from you, you walk over to the countertop with your wallet, eyes not leaving Changbin for a second.

“I will deal with you when I am back from the convenience store.”

And with the sight of Changbin gulping imprinted in your mind, you slam your apartment door behind you and make your way grumpily to the 24-hour convenience store located seven minutes away.

vi.

The electronic chime sounds throughout the store as the part-timer throws you a friendly greeting from the counter. “Welcome!” 

Reciprocating with a smile of your own, you take slow steps towards the shelf with the various assorted packets of ramen, and your hand automatically reaches for your favourite one. Just as it comes into contact with the plastic, you can feel yourself salivating and your stomach growls in appreciation. It’s a myth, you think. There’s no way food like carrots and asparagus is what gets students through school. The only saving grace you have during this period is packets of ramen and chocolate milk. Countless numbers of assignments and tests are already torturous enough; healthy, tasteless food on top of that? No, thanks. 

Clutching the ramen packet in your hands like it was the treasure of your life, you walk towards the milk section to complete your meal with your favourite carton of chocolate milk. There was something about the combination of milk that combats the spice from the ramen, and you’re about to drop onto your knees right there and then to worship the people who invented ramen and chocolate milk, when you see the last carton being taken away right in front of your eyes. 

Without any second thoughts, you rush towards the person and grab their arm, already getting ready to pull out the sob story of how you absolutely need the chocolate milk to survive. Surprised by the sudden contact, the man holding the carton whips his head towards you, eyes wide. 

There’s a fleeting sense of familiarity that passes through you when you see the hazel peeking out from above the mask that covered the rest of his face, but you’re too preoccupied to dwell on the thought. Just as you’re about to open your mouth to beg, you’re cut off by an all too familiar voice. 

“Y/n?”

Huh?

You stare at each other for a few seconds before the realisation of who you were holding, no, clinging onto dawns on you. 

“C-Chan?”

In a lively city that thrived at night, there were a thousand other 24-hour convenience stores scattered all around in every corner. It also wasn’t everyday that you decided to go to the convenience store for food, opting to go to the grocery stores instead. So, if you calculated correctly, the chance of you bumping into Chan at 2:30 a.m. at that very particular store should be close to never.

Yet, there he was standing right in front of you, chocolate milk clutched in one hand. 

“What are you doing here?” 

“Oh I came here to water my plants.” 

Plants? 

You’re more than confused, till you hear the soft snicker that escapes his mouth. Narrowing your eyes at his antics, you decide to bite back with a “Ha ha, very funny.”

“So… Are you planning to hold onto me forever?” Chan teases you, eyes gesturing to your hand that was still clutching onto him, before looking back at you with a twinkle in his brown eyes. “Because I wouldn’t be opposed to that.” 

With the whole bumping-into-Chan thing that happened, it had completely slipped your mind that you were still holding onto him. You snatch your hand away in horror, eyes widening as you feel the heat creep up your neck. “S-sorry.” And before you could stop yourself, you also continue to spill why you had grabbed his arm in the first place. “I was just craving for chocolate milk, and the one you took was the last carton left.” 

Looking back and forth at you and the carton, you start to feel like an absolute idiot, until he reaches out and pushes the carton into your hands. “You can have it then,” he says, and walks away. “Stay right there, let me grab some ramen and we can have supper together!” 

You stare at the carton for a few seconds, the droplets of water that formed on the outside cool against your fingers. On a normal day, you would have refused the milk vehemently, telling the other person not to worry and to have the last carton. But today wasn’t any other day.

And Chan wasn’t any other person. 

We’re friends, after all, is what echoes in your mind as you look up at the boy walking towards you, two packets of ramen in his hand and a carton of strawberry milk. Smiling at him, you finally express your gratitude for his kind sacrifice. 

“Thanks for this,” you say, waving the carton in front of him. “I don’t think I would have made it through the night without it.” 

Nodding with a smile, he tears his two packets of ramen open and pours in the hot water that was situated at the back of the store, grabbing yours from you in the process. “What brings you here at this hour? I’m pretty sure you wouldn’t be craving ramen and chocolate milk in the middle of the night on any other day.”

“You’re right about that,” you reply dejectedly, recalling the big pile of assignments waiting for you back at the apartment. “It’s hell month in school, and I’m drowning in work. On top of that, Changbin exhausted every single food source we have at home!”

Chan does his very best to hold back his laughter at your expression; he knew you were angry, but you looked as threatening as a kitten. And thankfully he succeeds, because he really did not want to be on the receiving end of your wrath. Although, he thinks, you really are not going to be able to do much damage.

“How dare he,” Chan agrees, finally taking a seat beside you, the steam from the ramen warming his face up. “Hey but, if he hadn’t done that we wouldn’t have bumped into each other here.” 

You nod your head in agreement, thinking about how to start a casual conversation, when you are suddenly hit with the realisation that you knew essentially nothing about Chan. You didn’t know what university he went to, what he majored in, and what he was doing in the convenience store that late at night too. 

One question at a time, you decide. 

“What are you doing out this late anyway?” you ask, slurping the noodles and breathing out in relief at the taste of the ramen against your tongue. 

“I come here often,” is what he replies, before taking a sip of his milk. “My uni’s about fifteen minutes from here, and I usually work the best at this time. Being a music production major, there aren’t very strict deadlines, but I’ve still got to get my shit done.” 

Oh. That’s all your questions answered. 

You know the trouble of trying to get questions out, especially for you, who has never really made the effort in going the extra mile in interacting with people. It’s annoying and nerve-wrecking, and probably the biggest reason why you refused making new friends. The whole process was just painful. So, when Chan answers your unasked questions, you feel the hypothetical weight lifting off your shoulder, and you open your mouth to express your gratitude. At least, that’s what you had planned to do. 

“Are you a mind reader?” you blurt out, before immediately clamping your mouth shut and facepalming. “Ugh, sorry. I have a really bad habit of blurting out whatever comes to my mind.” You groan at your inconvenient habit, and Chan pats the top of your hand in hopes of comforting you.

“I just meant to say that I was thinking of asking you those questions and you answered them even before I asked.” Chan looks at you with a smile, intrigued by your personality. You clearly didn’t have any other friends other than Changbin—but you never looked as if you were upset about it. It was also clear that you were content with not interacting with people, but when you did, you were never rude about it and you really did try your best. Never in a million years would he have thought that the student scurrying around the library with tons of books would turn out to be someone like you. 

“At least that means you’re an honest person!” Chan says, beaming at you. “C’mon, learn to look at the brighter side of things.” 

Shrugging your shoulders with a tired smile on your face, you turn back to your ramen, which has now gone soggy due to your little chit-chat with the boy beside you. 

There’s a comfortable silence that hangs between the two of you, until Chan speaks up again. “What’s your major? I realised I never asked.” 

At the mention of school, you pull an automatic stank face before replying. “English Lit with a minor in Philosophy. The worst decision of my life.” 

“And why’s that?”

“I never knew there’d be this much essay writing!” you cry out, throwing your head against the table. The rest of your words come out muffled, but somehow Chan manages to catch it. “I mean, I knew there was going to be lots of essays. But not this much.” 

“In the major’s defense, that’s kind of a dumb move on your part, Y/n.”

“Yes, I know. Please don’t remind me of my idiocy.” You finally sit up, before sadly chewing on your noodles. “At least I have ramen and chocolate milk to keep me going.” 

And as the night went on, both of you continued the conversation back and forth, you learning more about him and him about you. You talk about your assignments, how annoying some of your professors were, and how living with Changbin was. All the times you had to chase him to clean up after himself, or all the times he stayed up with you until ungodly hours just because you had procrastinated too much and was rushing an assignment in the last hour. You also learnt more about Chan; how he was studying music production because that was his dream since he was young, and how he actually roomed with Jisung, who was equally as messy as Changbin. The only difference was that Chan couldn’t be bothered about the mess. 

“Changbin, Jisung, and I actually used to make tracks and post them on Soundcloud,” Chan says, smiling as he recalls the three high schoolers cooped up in his room with the bare minimum equipment that wiped out half their savings. “We even had rapper names.” 

“Ooooo~” you tease, nudging his shoulder as his ears start to turn a bright red. “What was yours?” 

“What’s in the past should stay in the past, Y/n. Let bygones be bygones. No point talking about it now.”

“Awww, c’mon!” You plead, fidgeting in your seat. “Was it something embarrassing like Cheminem, or something?” 

“I can’t help but feel more relaxed when your standards are that low,” Chan says, with some form of relief in his voice. “Uh, mine was CB97.” 

“Don’t tell me…” you mutter, eyes wide as the laughter threatens to escape your lips. “Did you really just use your initials and your birth year? Talk about bare minimum!” 

“Hey! It’s better than Meminen, or Cheminem, or whatever you said earlier.”

Sticking your tongue out at him, you decide to probe further. “What were Jisung’s and Changbin’s?” 

Chan stares at you with wide eyes, your mischievous eyes giving away your evil plans. “No. Changbin will kill me.”

“Don’t be a party pooper! I’ll treat you to ramen next time if you tell me.” You try tempting Chan with food, with no hopes that it would work. But somehow, you see his resolve crumbling, and realise that you just needed one final push. 

“I’ll get you chocolate milk and two packets of ramen.” 

At that point, Chan regrets telling you his habit of eating two packets of ramen with chocolate milk almost every night when he stays up. “You shouldn’t have given me the milk then!” is what you said while chiding him, and he just claimed that “you looked like you needed it more than me” while saying that he really wasn’t picky about the flavour of milk. 

So when you tempt him with his cravings, he has no choice but to give in.

Twenty minutes later, you walk into your shared apartment, a mysterious smile playing on your lips as you drop the keys into the little holder by the door. It was made by yours truly during a random pottery workshop you signed up for. The shape was slightly off, and the colour wasn’t bright or vibrant—but it worked and that’s what mattered. 

At the sound of the keys clinking in the holder, Changbin’s head shoots up to gauge your mood from your expression. Surely you would be at least a little less angry after your little run to the convenience store, he thought. 

But instead of seeing a blank expression, or even an angry one, he sees the smile on your face and his heart drops. Why were you smiling? The fact that you were smiling made him feel a hundred times worse, and he had already started saying his prayers.

“So, Changbin…” you start, leaning against one of the chairs at the dining table. You weren’t even angry about the empty shelves anymore, but you just could not pass on the opportunity of teasing your best friend. “Or should I say, SpearB?”

And you’re more than content with the way his face morphs into that of horror, as he grips the edges of the table. “How did you know?” he asks, his voice strained and barely above a whisper; one would think that the whole world had found out about his darkest secret from the way he was reacting. 

Shrugging playfully, you go back to your seat and sort out the papers scattered around the table, grabbing your laptop to start working on your assignment again with a full and happy stomach. “Who knows~”

“Y/n, tell me,” he starts to whine, making his way to you on his roller chair. “No one knows other than the boys-”

And the realisation of who the culprit was hits him.

“It was Chan, right?” he asks, already reaching for his phone to scold the older boy. “You must have met him when you went to the store—he’s always getting ramen there.” Typing furiously on his phone, he pauses to look up and whine again. “I can’t believe you two gossiped about me! And it was me who made you both become friends. The disrespect!” 

Finally the laughter you had been holding in breaks out and floods the living room, the sound bouncing off the walls. “I can’t believe,” you start, trying to catch your breath as you continue laughing. “SpearB! What do you do? Impale people with your sharp flow and rhyme?”

“Just shut up, please,” Changbin pleads, plugging his ears with his fingers. “La la la, I can’t hear anything you’re saying.” He rolls back to his side of the table and grabs the headphones, shoving it over his head to drown out your laughter. 

Your laugh fest is cut off by your phone vibrating, signalling that you had a new text message. Grabbing it, you tap your phone a few times to open up the messages page. 

chan: can’t believe you outed me to changbin chan: traitor y/n: drama queen y/n: i said nth, he figured it out on his own chan: ఠ_ಠ

Giggling at the emoticon Chan used, you unconsciously lean back in your seat as you search your gallery for an emoticon to reply with, assignments forgotten. 

“Who’re you texting?” Changbin asks, having heard you giggle at your phone. He’s eyeing you suspiciously, and you knew it was better to answer him, because a curious Changbin is a dangerous Changbin, and he’ll probably stomp over and snatch your phone to see who you were texting anyway. “It’s Chan.”

“When did you two exchange numbers?!”

“Earlier, when we met at the convenience store.” 

It was right before the both of you parted ways; when Chan had proposed something that was pretty much impossible to turn down. 

“I had fun today,” he said, one hand stuffed in his pocket while the other swung the plastic bag containing some chocolates to add to his secret sweet stash. “You said you’re having hell month, right? Hit me up whenever you need an emergency ramen run.” And with that, he pushed his phone into your hands, signalling for you to do the same. 

Smiling to yourself, you keyed in your number into the phone clutched in your hand, saving yourself as “Y/n”, and before you could regret your decision, you quickly added a smiley after your name and tossed the phone back to Chan. “Here you go.” 

The cool metal is being pressed into your hands, and before you know it, you’ve said your farewell to Chan and were on your way back home. 

“Look at you socialising out of your own will,” Changbin states proudly, wiping an imaginary tear as he gives you a fatherly (or what he thinks is fatherly) smile. “Albeit, at the expense of my shame, but if it means my little Y/n making more friends then why not!” 

“Please stop, you’re an embarrassment to me, yourself, and literally everyone around us,” you deadpan, clearing your side of the table up. It was time to call it a night, because God knows you’re not going to be able to do anymore work. “Besides, it’s really not that big of a deal. I doubt we’ll continue talking after tonight. It’s probably a one-off thing.”

“Hmmm I wouldn’t be too sure,” Changbin muses. “I feel like there’s something that’ll come out of this.”

vii. 

Seo Changbin isn’t a lot of things. 

He isn’t tidy, opting to throw his clothes all around his room instead of folding it; he isn’t patient, always screaming at you to “Hurry your ass!” when he had been waiting barely three minutes; and last but not least, he definitely isn’t punctual. “Changbin is my name, and being late is my game” is something you’ve heard way too often from him that it was a wonder you hadn’t murdered him yet.

Changbin isn’t a lot of things—but what he somehow is, is intuitive when it comes to you.

So when you find yourself back at the convenience store at 12:30 a.m., ramen and chocolate milk in front of you as you laugh over some stupid story Chan was saying, you can’t help but curse at how right your best friend was. 

You were reaching the end of your hell month, which also indicated it being four weeks since you and Chan had developed the routine of pigging out at the convenience store at terrible hours. 

“... and he just fell off the tree!” Chan concludes his story of how Hyunjin fell off a tree in high school, words coming out breathless due to how much the both of you were laughing. “Ah, that brings back memories.”

“I can’t believe I never talked to you guys more then,” you say, shaking your head slightly. “It would’ve been hilarious.”

“Someone was too busy with Voldemort,” Chan teases, pushing his nose down flat in what you could only describe as a Voldemort impression. Laughing, you swat his hand away while rolling your eyes at the boy you’ve grown so fond of in a span of four weeks. “Why’d you never talk to us?” 

Thinking back to high school, you ask yourself. Why didn’t you ever bother talking to them?

“I guess it’s just cause I already had Changbin,” you start, pausing to think back to the past few years. “As much as I complain about him, he’s really one of the greatest best friends anyone could ask for.”

It was true; Changbin was there for you during high school like no one else had been, and for that you were eternally grateful for him.

“So you were scared to take any other chances since you already got the best?” 

People always asked you why you didn’t make more friends in high school. Hell, even your mother kept asking, when other parents struggled to keep their children at home just because they were spending too much time out with friends. But the answer to that question was something you never thought about, and you can’t stop the feeling of shock spreading through your body at what the boy in front of you had just so casually uttered. 

You were scared.

“I-I…” you stutter, eyes wide as you stare at the boy in front of you. Chan can’t help the worry that seeps into his face at his words, and he’s starting to wonder if he said anything wrong. “I’ve never ever thought about it. But, oh my God, that makes so much sense.” 

After years of waving everyone who asked you why you never made any other friends away just because you yourself didn’t have the answer to the question, you’re hit with a huge realisation of just why you didn’t want to find more friends. And it wasn’t even you who figured it out. 

This boy sitting leisurely in front of you, skin pale and soft, with messy black hair framing his face that he never bothered brushing away. This boy, who was as kind as he was hardworking, always willing to help out anyone, even with his own responsibilities. This boy who had been readily there for you at the devil hours for almost every day in the past four weeks, always checking up on you to make sure that you were surviving.

Never in a million years would you have expected someone to figure out something that was locked away so deep inside of your heart, and for it to be Chan, out of everyone. The thought makes your heart race a little, but you decide to blame it on the conversation the both of you were having. It was definitely not because of the boy seated beside you.

“Shocking, huh,” Chan starts, laughing slightly as the worry he had felt earlier replaced with something he could only describe as fondness. “It’s a pity though.” 

You look at him questioningly, and what he says next makes you realise a few things that maybe you were better off not realising. 

“We would’ve been much happier in high school with you there. I would’ve been much happier.” 

As much as you regretted not befriending the other seven boys in high school, you were starting to regret bumping into Chan that very first night even more. If you hadn’t bumped into him, you would’ve never spent so much time with him, never realised how great of a person he was, and lastly, you would’ve never started falling for Bang Chan.

viii.

It’s like déjà vu.

With your exams and assignments completed, you find yourself watching the latest season of Haikyuu when Changbin enters the room, waltzing towards your reclined figure. 

“Y/n~” Changbin starts, poking your shoulder to get your attention. “Whatever your annoying ass needs now, it’s a no,” you say without even turning to look at the boy beside you.

“Oh? Even if it was an invitation to dinner with the boys later tonight?” 

And when your head whips to the side to look at your best friend, you’re so tempted to just wipe that smirk clean off his face, because the bitch knew you would have said yes.

“I fucking hate you,” is what you can mutter, before switching the television and throwing the remote to the side, choosing to ignore Changbin as you walk towards your room to pick an outfit. But you’re forced to stop in your tracks when Changbin casually utters the next few words.

“Chan’s especially excited to see you.”

You’re not sure what Changbin means by that, but there’s no denying the increase in your heart rate at the mention of the dimpled boy. 

“What?” You try your best to sound as nonchalant as you could, hoping that your best friend wouldn’t pick up the slight quiver in your voice. But, of course, he wasn’t your best friend for nothing. 

“I said, your little boyfriend’s excited to see you.” Changbin smirks at your expression, stretching his legs out to rest it on the coffee table in front of your sofa. “And it looks like you’re just as excited.” 

Red travels up your neck and spreads across your face, as you sputter at your best friend’s preposterous words. “W-what are you- I- Huh-”

Realising that your little breakdown wasn’t helping your case at all, you take a deep breath to calm yourself, before speaking to the insolent brat in front of you. “He’s not my boyfriend.”

“But you like him, don’t you?”

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights, and the first instinct you have is to play dumb. “O-of course I like him. He’s my friend.”

“I will pretend like I did not hear that pathetic attempt of you trying to act dumb,” Changbin states robotically, rolling his eyes. “C’mon, Y/n. It’s obvious. So stop pretending and just fess up. It’ll be easier for the both of us.” 

You had two choices now: Either fess up and prepare yourself for at least a thousand years of teasing, or just completely deny it till your deathbed. 

Clearly, the second option was much more appealing. 

“No, Changbin,” you snap with as much conviction as you could. “I do not have a crush on Chan. He’s just a really good friend.”

The knowing look on his face wavers, and you know that you’re seconds away from success. It’s not that you did not trust your best friend with the information of you having a crush on one of his friends. You just did not want to say it out loud—saying it out loud would mean that you were confirming it, and there will be no going back. And that scared you. 

You were scared of liking someone who was way too perfect, and who probably would never like you back. 

So the best solution was to keep your little crush hidden away in the depths of your heart, and slowly get over it as soon as you could. It was as easy as it could get.

ix.

Apparently, you realise, it wasn’t at all easy to get over a simple crush. 

The smell of meat fills your nostrils as the eight boys chatter loudly over the sound of the sizzling of the food. You’re back at the same restaurant, with the same boys, except it wasn’t exactly the same as the last time. 

This time, you had a raging crush on the boy who insisted on sitting beside you, leg brushing against yours every few seconds as he piles the food on your plate instead of his. 

It definitely didn’t help that every time your hands brushed while reaching out for the side dishes around the table, you pulled your hand back as if you had just been burned, ears immediately heating up. 

“Did you know Chan told Y/n about 3RACHA?” Changbin whines to Jisung, making him stop his actions mid-way, meat hanging from the chopsticks just a few inches away from his mouth. “All I heard the past few weeks was ‘SpearB, help me’, ‘SpearB, go there’. It was torture.”

The table goes silent at the new information Changbin had revealed, and all you can do is smile sheepishly as your friends stare at the both of you. 

“These two have been meeting almost everyday the past few weeks to get ramen at weird timings, and I’m pretty sure Y/n has lots of quality dirt on us now,” Changbin says pointedly, completely ignoring the way your eyes widened because why would he just say that?

It already wasn’t easy keeping Changbin in check with his little fantasies every time you went out to meet Chan, and now it was going to be worse because you just knew that the six other boys were going to question you from their expressions. 

You turn to look at Chan, expecting to see the same ‘busted’ expression on his face, but all you see is a guilty smile, before he opens his mouth to speak. “In my defense, I was bribed.” 

“Yes but, you never told us your 3RACHA names even after we kept begging you for weeks,” Hyunjin speaks up, eyes wide in disbelief. “We had to bribe you with a new game for your console, but you just told Y/n after two packets of ramen and chocolate milk?” 

Your heart rate picks up speed just a fraction after hearing Hyunjin’s words, and you can’t help but feel a little special that Chan was comfortable enough to tell you things he refused to tell others. There’s a small smile playing at your lips as you look at the boy beside you, who was now rubbing the back of his neck sheepishly as he tried his best to defend himself from the accusations that were now pouring out from all his friends. 

Unbeknownst to you, your own best friend was watching the both of you since the night started, a glint in his eye as he catches the way you threw small glances at his friend, blushing every time your hands brushed or when Chan purposely picked out the meat that was grilled best to put on your plate. 

He also didn’t miss the soft smile playing at Chan’s lips every time you laughed at another stupid joke Jisung cracked, head thrown back slightly as you clutched your stomach, or the way his eyes widened every time you leaned a little too close to him to reach for a side dish. 

Fools, is what he thinks when he eyes his two best friends. Fools in love.

The night goes on, and it’s Changbin who proposes a game of who can finish a bottle of soju the fastest to make things more exciting. You already know how it was going to end when you see the soju bottles crowding the table, all screaming the obvious outcome of the night.

“Rule’s simple. We’ll have two people against each other, and the one that loses has to pay their opponent’s share for tonight’s dinner.” 

You notice Changbin avoiding your eyes as he speaks and distributes the bottle, which could be attributed to the very scary death glare you were throwing right at him. 

Here’s the thing—your alcohol tolerance was shit. And Changbin knew that, making you wonder what he had planned up his sleeve.

“Right, here’s the lineup,” he announces, making it seem as if the lot of you were in some world championship of sorts. “Hyunjin and Jisung”—there’s a loud ‘Die, bitch!’ that resounds from Jisung as they both get ready to win against each other—“Seungmin and Felix, Minho and Jeongin, and Chan and Y/n!” 

You were going to kill that idiot. 

Changbin starts off the game with a recap of the rules, and makes sure that everyone has their own bottle of alcohol. Disaster is the only word flashing in your mind, and you’re on the verge of ditching your friends to return to the comfort of your room. 

“Jisung and Hyunjin first!” Changbin instructs, to which the two boys grab their bottles and have a stare-down with each other. 

“I’m gonna win so hard, your ancestors are gonna feel it.”

“Let’s see you try, pretty boy.” 

On Changbin’s cue, the two boys start gulping down the alcohol, and you visibly cringe at the ghost feeling of the taste on your tongue. 

“Are you okay?” Chan whispers from beside you, eyebrows furrowed. “It’s a stupid game. You don’t have to do it if you don’t want to.” 

There’s a grateful smile on your face as you shake your head, letting the boy know you were okay. “I’m fine. Just worried because my alcohol tolerance isn’t that good, and I don’t want to inconvenience all of you.”

“I promise I’ll take care of you,” Chan mutters softly, staring right into your eyes. The smile slowly drops from your face as your heartbeat echoes in your ears at his words and the way he was looking at you. You so badly wanted to look away, not being used to such eye contact, but there’s something about the way he’s looking at you that makes it almost impossible for you to tear your gaze away from his twinkling eyes. 

The sound of a bottle being slammed onto the table snaps you out of your little moment with Chan, and you immediately turn away to look at what was happening at the table, taking deep, cleansing breaths to calm yourself. 

On the other side of the table, you realise that Hyunjin was the one who finished his bottle first, now having the time of his life teasing Jisung, who had about one quarter of the bottle left. 

All the boys, except Chan and Felix, were laughing their asses off—Felix was the only one comforting Jisung, while Chan was staring at the table, an unreadable expression on his face.

“There, there. It’s okay, Sung,” Felix coos, patting Jisung’s hair, as the latter sulks at his loss. 

The next two rounds proceed quickly, with Seungmin and Jeongin emerging as the winners. Everyone stares shell shocked, as Jeongin gulps down the liquid with vigour and speed, and slams his bottle down onto the table with a grin.

“There’s no way! I can’t believe Minho lost to a baby!”

“Just because he’s the youngest doesn’t mean he’s a baby, Changbin.” Seungmin deadpans, swiftly moving the empty bottles to the side of the table. “And how come you’re not participating?”

“Someone needs to bring Y/n back,” Changbin shrugs, passing the bottles to Chan and you with a guilty smile in return to your scowl. “And I’d rather stay sober when taking care of drunk children.”

You turn to pass the bottle to Chan, quickly avoiding his gaze when he looks at you. You’re not confident in your abilities to keep the blush down if he was going to look at you the way he did before. 

“Okay,” Changbin cues, making sure both of you were ready with the bottle caps off. “Ready, set… Go!”

You didn’t mind paying for Chan’s share for dinner, you really didn’t. But if there was something about you that was both your downfall and pride, it was your competitiveness. You were competitive to the point where you tended to disregard the consequences of your actions. 

So, your brain doesn’t register the painful consequences of your actions as you gulp down the bottle of alcohol like your life depended on it. You weren’t the best drinker out there, but you were going to try your very damn best because it was a competition. 

With no expectation of winning, you swallow the last drop of soju and slam the bottle back onto the table, when you realise that everyone was staring at the two of you with their mouths open—specifically at Chan.

Following their gaze, your eyes widen in surprise as you see the boy holding an almost half-full bottle of soju, clearly indicating that you were the winner of your little game. 

It’s like a dam breaks, and suddenly everyone’s shouting at the unexpected outcome. Hyunjin and  Jisung scream while looking back and forth the bottle and Chan, while Felix, Seungmin, and Jeongin sit with wide eyes and open mouths, unable to process that Chan just lost to you.

On the other hand, Changbin watches Chan with a smirk, which slowly drops when he realises that Minho, who was sitting beside him, was staring at him with raised eyebrows, clearly asking the question ‘What the fuck just happened?’.

Just as he’s about to pull Changbin to the side to question him, you shoot up from your seat, stumbling around almost immediately because of the sudden bout of dizziness that hit you. You fall back onto your seat as fast you had gotten up, and Chan wraps an arm around you almost instinctively, making sure you didn’t fall off your seat. 

The table is back to having their own conversations a few minutes later, as if they weren't just screaming over your victory, with Hyunjin and Jisung having a rock-paper-scissors tournament between themselves, proposed by Jisung who was still sore about losing to Hyunjin.

Alcohol clouds your mind as your head lols back and forth, with soft giggles spilling from your lips. In your drunken state, you register the arm wrapped around you, and you turn your head to look for the owner of said arm. 

Chan looks at you with the fondest smile as he tries to hold back his own chuckles at how cute your giggles were, at the same time being extremely conscious of the way you fit perfectly around his arms. He thanks his lucky stars that you were drunk as he held you, assuring him that there was no way you were going to hear how fast his heart was beating. 

“Oh?” you drawl, squinting at the boy beside you. “Who might you be?” 

And at that very moment, Chan hopes with all his heart that there is no one else who will get to witness what he was seeing right in front of him. 

There are strands of hair covering your face, cheeks red from the alcohol (and from the close proximity to him, but he doesn’t need to know that) and eyes drooping from the oncoming sleepiness. Yet, to him, you were still the most beautiful in that moment. 

“I’m Chan,” he replies sweetly, hesitating for a moment before adding more to the sentence. “Your friend.”

An exaggerated gasp escapes you as your eyes widen comically. Words tumble from your mouth, with hiccups disrupting your sentences every now and then. “Chan? Bang Chan? From high school? The really, um-" hiccup "-cute boy who tutored in the library? The super popular dude? You’re my-" hiccup "friend?”

There’s a light pink flush dusting his cheeks at your words, but he laughs nonetheless while nodding, finger reaching out to tap your nose. “Yes, I am.” 

Scrunching your nose at the contact, you continue giggling when the sound of someone clearing their throat interrupts the little exchange you and Chan were having. Chan turns to face his friends, and immediately starts coughing when he realises that they had been watching the whole scene with amused expressions. He awkwardly retracts his arm from around your waist, only for you to get up and stumble over to where Changbin was sitting, arms reaching out towards him while making grabby hands. “Changbinnnn~”

You plop yourself onto his lap, arms encircling his neck as you pull his ear closer to your mouth. Used to your drunk antics, he concedes, knowing that he’ll end up with more damage if he didn’t listen to you when you were drunk. 

When he is close enough, you cup your hands around your mouth and whisper into his ears. At least, you thought you were whispering. 

“You have really cute friends, Changbin.”

The whole table erupts into cheers at your words, and you immediately cover your mouth with a horrified expression. “Did everyone hear that?”

“You weren’t very quiet, darling,” Changbin snorts, pulling you up with him as he stands. “How are all of you getting back?” 

“We’re all crashing at Felix’s place,” Seungmin speaks up, tapping away on his phone. “The uber’s about to arrive… right now.” 

Grabbing their things, everyone except Minho, Chan, Changbin, and you, make their way out of the restaurant, shouting out hurried farewells and promises of ‘I’ll wire the money to you when I get back!’ to Changbin. 

“Okay, Minho and I will go settle the bill,” Changbin says, readjusting his grip on you. “Chan, can you look after Y/n for a bit?”

“Sure,” Chan replies, looping your arm around his neck as his snakes around your waist. “We’ll be out at the front.”

The moment Chan leaves their sight with you by his side, Minho turns to bombard Changbin with all the questions that had been bothering him the whole night.

“What was that?” Minho asks in bewilderment, pointing to the door that Chan and you had exited from. “How on earth did Chan lose that game when he’s the best drinker amongst all of us?!” 

“It’s called being in love,” Changbin scoffs, shaking his head at his two friends. “Disgusting.” 

The distressed look on Minho’s face dissolves, and is replaced by what one could describe as enlightenment. “No fucking way. I was wondering why he kept smiling at them like an idiot. That explains so much! Have they confessed?”

“You think?” Changbin rolls his eyes, knowing that there was no way either of you had the courage to confess first. “The only way either of them will confess is if they are drunk.” 

“But Y/n is dru-” Minho starts in confusion, when he stops mid-sentence, realising what Changbin had just done. “You evil genius.”

“What can I say,” Changbin states proudly, brushing imaginary dirt off his shoulder. “I wonder what’s going on outside,” he mutters under his breath, staring at the door. 

On the other side of the door, Chan finally succeeds in getting you to sit down with him on a curb, his jacket folded neatly under your bottom to make sure that you were not sitting on the hard cement. “I’m tired,” you whine, head dropping onto the warm shoulder beside you. 

Chan tenses up at the sudden contact, staring at the top of your head, when you nuzzle your cheek against his shoulder. At the feeling of your cheek against his shoulder, he relaxes, and positions himself such that you didn’t have to strain your neck. 

There’s a comfortable silence between the both of you, until you decide to break it by asking Chan a very obvious question.

“We’re close friends right?” 

You lift your head from Chan’s shoulder, almost whining out loud at the loss of comfort, but you decide that asking him that question was more important. Clearly, drunk you had very different priorities. 

Chan just nods and replies with a soft “Of course”, wondering why you were suddenly asking that question. “Why?”

“Since we’re close friends, can I tell you a secret?” The last few words are spoken in a hushed whisper, as you reach out and grasp Chan’s soft and warm hands. His larger hands clasps yours, as he chuckles at your question. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Y/n. You’re drunk, and you might regret telling me when you sober up.”

“No!” You almost shout, alarming Chan who looks around to make sure no one heard your exclamation. You continue in a softer tone, to Chan’s relief. “You’re my close friend! So I won’t regret it.” 

And the wide smile you show Chan almost makes him want to kiss you right there and then. Almost. 

“Alright then,” Chan agrees, rubbing circles into the skin on your hand. “Go ahead, tell me your secret.”

Giggling, you use your free hand to beckon him closer, your face moving closer to his at the same time. Just as his ear is close enough to you, you whisper out the words that make his heart stop. 

“I think I like you.” 

He freezes in place, eyes staring at the black tar road ahead of him as his heart hammers against his ribcage because of your nonchalant words. He gulps before slowly turning to face you, the person he had grown to like more than he could ever imagine coming into his view. He takes quick, shallow breaths as he continues to stare at you, unsure of what to say. 

Luckily (or unluckily, for Chan), you decide to continue talking, baring your heart and soul to him. 

“It’s like...” you start, trailing off after your first two words, before finding the right words to continue. “It’s like I was always happy in life, but you made me realise that it was possible for me to be happier when you are there with me.”

And the smile you give Chan, accompanied with the words you had just uttered, makes him want to protect you from the rest of the world. He’s not sure if he loves you, but what he’s sure about is that all he wants to do is hug you and never let go, to be there for you every minute, every second. And he thinks that’s enough. 

That’s enough reason to hold onto you and never let go.

Opening his mouth, Chan is about to reply to your drunk confession, when the sound of soft snores fill his ears. 

Leaning against the light pole that was situated very conveniently behind you, you had fallen asleep in the split second Chan had taken to make his move. Your chest rises and falls with every breath you take, and Chan can’t help but breath out a laugh at your timing. 

There’s always tomorrow, he thinks.

x.

There’s white noise playing in your ear as you stare up at your ceiling.

Changbin is seated at the edge of your bed saying something important, you assume. You aren’t listening; your brain cells have decided to go on a strike and replay the scene from yesterday on loop. 

I think I like you.

You want to scream. You want to scream and murder the boy sitting beside you so bad. After all, it was his fault that you ingested that goddamn devil liquid that made you spill more than your guts. 

It was a wonder that you were able to find a friend as precious as Chan, and there you lay in despair, all thoughts of facing Chan again slowly slipping away from your fingertips. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to see him after the stunt you pulled yesterday. 

“Y/n, are you listening?!”

“No.” 

A hand wraps around your arm and you feel yourself being pulled up, coming face-to-face with your distressed best friend. “Stop being stubborn. Calm down and listen to what I have to say.”

And that’s when you snap.

“Stubborn!?” you shriek, clutching the ends of your hair. “I just confessed to your friend, Seo Changbin. I was drunk, and I confessed my very large and real crush to the person I am crushing on. I have ruined any chance at friendship with him, so don’t tell me to stop being stubborn and to calm down!”

Taking a deep breath, Changbin pulls you towards him, both his hands resting against your cheeks. “Listen here. Stop being a wuss. Yes, you confessed when you were drunk. Yes, it’s embarrassing as fuck. But get over it. You know Chan. Is he the kind of asshole who drops friendship over small things like rejection?” 

There’s a pout playing at your lips as you shake your head, partly due to the way Changbin was squishing your cheeks, and the other half because you knew he was right. 

“But I still don’t want to face him yet,” you whine, pushing his hands away from your face and diving back into your covers. “I just want to wallow in self pity, and hopefully waste away on this bed so that I’ll never have to face anyone ever again.”

Changbin knows that there was no convincing you otherwise, so he settles for sighing and getting up from your bed. 

“Don’t stay in bed for too long. I’ll order us food for later.”

Muttering something under your breath, you roll over and bury your face into your pillow, sighing as you think about the boy whose smile gave you more warmth than the sun could ever provide.

You’re in the midst of imagining how different today would’ve been if you hadn’t opened your dumb mouth when your phone rings and cuts off your thoughts. Reaching out for it, your mouth runs dry when you see the name displayed on your screen.

“Chan :)”

Your finger presses the decline button and your phone clatters against your bedside table as you decide that you are not ready to talk to Chan yet. And you’re not sure if you’ll ever be ready to talk to him, let alone face him. 

A minute after declining the call, there’s a series of knocks on your door, and you shout out a “Go away!”, not wanting to hear anything related to Chan and how you need to stop being a coward. But as the knocking continues, getting louder as time passes, you start getting annoying and realise you have no choice but to open the door.

“What the fuck do you want, Chang-”

You cut yourself off as you take in the person standing in front of you with wide eyes, looking as handsome as ever even with the furious look painted on his face. 

The silence is thick with tension, and you can’t help but avert your eyes, choosing to look at anything but the boy in front of you. 

“Why are you ignoring me?” Chan asks, voice quiet and flat. “I’ve been calling and texting you all morning.” 

“Um, I-” you start, not knowing how to answer his question. You imagined your day going various ways, but this definitely wasn’t in your plans. “Did Changbin call you?”

“I asked,” he starts, walking towards you. You take a few steps a back, and continue walking backwards until your hands come into contact with your dresser. You were trapped. “Why are you ignoring me, Y/n?”

You blink rapidly, not used to this closed-off version of Chan. The usual warmth and softness in his eyes were missing, and instead all you saw was disappointment and anger. You open your mouth to speak, but it wasn’t easy to get the words out. 

“Was it funny messing with me?” Chan continues, not breaking eye contact with you once. “To just get my hopes up and disappear like it all meant nothing?” 

“W-what?” 

“How was it so easy for you to just start ignoring me?” 

“No I-”

“Is that all I mean to you?” And instead of the disappointment and anger, you see pure, unfiltered hurt, and that was enough for your walls to come crashing down. Tears well up in your eyes as you look at the boy in front of you, and it’s like a dam breaks. 

“I’m sorry.” Sobs wreck your body as you wipe the tears that don’t seem to stop. “I-I’m so fucking sorry, Chan. I was scared.”

“Scared because you just said that in the spur of moment and you don’t actually mean it?”

“No, I was scared because I like you too fucking much!”

There’s a pregnant silence between the two of you, and you continue staring at the floor, vision blur with stubborn tears that refuse to fall. And that’s when you hear it.

A chuckle. 

It’s soft, and you would’ve missed it if not for the pin drop silence in the room. 

You slowly lift your head up to confirm if you actually heard what you heard, or if you were hallucinating, when you see it. 

Chan was smiling. 

“Can’t believe it worked.” 

What on earth did that mean?

“W-what do you mean?” you ask, sniffing softly. 

“This was Changbin’s idea. For the record, I was against it.” Chan’s hands come up to rest on your cheeks, his thumb wiping away the tears on your cheeks as he smiles softly at you. “I mean, of course I was hurt and worried. But I just wanted to come over and talk it over like a normal person.”

His smile widens as one hand continues cupping your face, while the other reaches to tuck the one stray strand of hair behind your ear. “He said you’ll never admit things unless I, uh, scared you a little.

You stare at Chan as the gears work in your head, putting the pieces of information. The moment the last piece clicks in place, you stare in shock at the boy standing in front of you with a sheepish smile.

“What the fuck?!” you yell, equal parts of relief and anger taking over your mind. “I fucking hate you!”

And with that you storm off towards your door, Chan chasing after you with apologies spilling from his mouth. But the both of you knew that you weren’t actually upset, which can be seen by the giggles accompanying every apology.

Just as you’re about to leave your room, you’re pulled back into warm arms, and you fight every urge to melt right into his embrace. His arms wrap around your frame tightly, but gently. You feel his strong heartbeat against your back, and it’s enough to make you shiver, goosebumps erupting all over your skin. 

“Do you hate me?” Chan asks, chin resting on your shoulder as you feel his breath tickle your neck. 

“Yes.”

“Really?” Chan asks in amusement, lips against your ears and voice just above a whisper. “That’s a pity then. Because I like you too fucking much too.” 

He whispers the last part of the sentence, making your knees go weak and your heartbeat pick up its pace as it usually does whenever the boy who stole your heart was involved. 

You turn around in his arms to face him, sighing contentedly at how things ended up turning out.  “I’m really sorry about the ghosting.”

“It’s okay, love,” Chan assures you, the pet name inducing butterflies in your stomach. “I would’ve been embarrassed too, if I had confessed to you when I was drunk.”

“I would’ve loved to see that.” You whine at the unfortunate circumstance of you confessing instead of Chan. “I probably looked like an idiot while confessing.”

“Since I’m your boyfriend, can I tell you a secret?” Chan teases, repeating what you said the night before with a little twist. Smacking his arm lightly for the jab, you nod with a laugh, ignoring the way your face heats up when he refers to himself as your boyfriend.  

“I really wanted to kiss you when you were confessing.” There’s mirth in Chan’s eyes as he gazes at you the same way he did back at the restaurant. The only difference was that you knew he liked you back. And you had never been happier. 

“Go for it.”

And that’s all the confirmation that Chan needs to lean down and press his lips against yours in a feather-light kiss, as your hands rest on his chest, appreciating the strong beat his heart was playing. 

You part a few seconds later, eyes still closed as a smile plays on both your lips, before you’re pulled for another kiss, this one more forceful than the one before. His lips press against yours harder, and his arms pull you closer—as close as you could be. You respond with equal fervor, pouring every emotion you have into the kiss, when you’re interrupted by a loud cough. 

“I would appreciate it if I didn’t have to bleach my eyes every time I see the two of you.”

Oh. 

It completely slipped your mind that Changbin was just a few steps away from your room, and you want to crawl under your bed and befriend the monster there when you see the haughty smile on your best friend’s face. 

“I think a thanks is in order.”

Removing yourself from Chan’s arms, you walk over to Changbin, who smiles wider when he realises you are walking towards him. Opening his arms to welcome you in for a hug, he can’t help but shriek when you start punching him everywhere possible.

“Dude, what is wrong with you?!”

“That’s what you get for coming up with stupid ideas to get me to talk!” you snap at your best friend with words that carry no real bite. “Were you that desperate?”

“Clearly!” Changbin replies, exasperated. “It was getting depressing. He wouldn’t stop calling me because he was worried, and you were being a stubborn bitch!” 

At his words, there’s a tinge of guilt that pinches at you when you realise the trouble you had put your best friend through. 

“Okay, I’m sorry,” you say with a pout, burying your face into Changbin’s shoulder. “And thank you.”

“Yes yes, you’re welcome,” Changbin says with a soft smile. He wouldn’t admit it just yet, but seeing his best friend who meant the world to him end up with someone who just as much deserved nothing but the best made him eternally grateful. “Now go smooch your boyfriend. We don’t want him becoming too jealous of the attention you’re giving me.”

“Oh, shut up,” is what Changbin gets in return, as Chan intertwines his hand with yours. Just as Changbin walks out of sight back to his room, Chan turns to you with the biggest smile.

“Now then, shall we go on a date to celebrate our first day?”

“Absolutely.”

And as you and Chan sit on the beach that evening, surrounded by sand and accompanied by the sound of the waves and the soft breeze with a orange hue enveloping you, you think:

Life had never been sweeter.

[newtonsheffield]

did we see good girl eddie and goose yet?

‘cause bagwell is already scared of Anthony, but imagine if it’s good girls!anthony

We haven't officially seen Eddie and Goose yet!

But let's take a look! Especially at Goose+ Anthony

Matthew Bagwell seemed to spend 90% of his life being sickeningly nervous these days. Ever since he'd gone the the library one Saturday morning, and seen a girl, around his age, be jostled roughly past sending all of the books she'd been carrying back to her table flying. Matthew had leapt forward to help her after the man had shrugged barely apologetically. He's squatted in front of her, and the most beautiful girl he'd ever seen looked up at him through wire rimmed glasses.

"Oh thank you, You don't need to help." She'd said a little kindly, still smiling despite the fact she'd just had her possessions scattered everywhere.

"No um, it's fine. I like helping." Matt had said, like a complete bloody moron. And she'd smiled as their fingers brushed when he handed her her books.

"I'm Edwina. What's your name?"

"Beautiful." It had leapt out of his mouth before he could stop it. His mouth dropping open in horror at himself. "Fuck, Matt, I'm Matt. I'm not beautiful, you are. I mean, Shit, sorry, I'm not like a sex pest or anything I-"

And she'd burst out laughing, her beautiful face crumpled with joy, "You're cute, come sit with me." And he'd started what he was pretty sure was going to be the rest of his life.

Matt knew Edwina's older sister, Kate, was at Cambridge. Their entire family was, pretty rightfully Matt thought, very proud of that fact, and she and Edwina were close, Edwina was always telling hims stories about Kate, and the antics they'd gotten up to

"I really want you to meet Kate. You'll love her." She sighed and honestly, the thought made him a little unwell. Because Edwina had said so many times that there was no one whose opinion mattered more than Kate's. And what was worse, Edwina's parents, as lovely as they were, practically gushed about her boyfriend. Anthony was so lovely, such a nice boy, they wondered when he was going to propose, though Matt knew they couldn't be more than 21.

"Kate and Anthony are coming to visit!" Edwina said excitedly one morning, almost as soon as she arrived at the library. And as happy as he was for her, anxiety bubbled in his stomach. "You have to come and meet Kate! Please!" And how could he say no.

The minute he'd met Kate Sharma, he was sure, he'd never met a more intimidating young woman in his entire life. She was tall, and her cheekbones were high and proud, and just as strikingly beautiful as her younger sister, if in a slightly more menacing way, and she was impeccably dressed in a smart skirt and blouse, her blazer hanging over her shoulders. But her smile was bright and kind as she greeted her family and then Matt, she took a genuine interest in his plans to go to Oxford when he graduated.

"Katie, it's a shame Anthony couldn't travel with you." Mrs. Sharma had hummed a little sadly, and Kate had sighed.

"Yeah, he had to work, he'll be down Saturday though." And Matt had immediately formed an image of what Anthony must look like, probably wore a sweater vest and suspenders, he figured.

Matt just happened to be at the Sharmas for tea on Saturday, Edwina had insisted he come, though he felt a little like he was intruding. When the roar of a motorcycle sounded down the street. Kate immediately abandoned the book she'd been reading, dropped it on the floor and sprinted from the living room.

"You'll see." Eddie shrugged rolling her eyes affectionately, and seconds later Matt heard an excited squeal in the hallway as the door opened.

Matt couldn't help peer curiously into the room and what he saw was the most confusing sight he'd ever seen. Kate Sharma, had her legs wrapped around the waist of an absolutely behemoth man. Matt was sure he'd be taller even than his own six foot frame. His hair was braided back, tattoos running up his thick arms, a leather jacket clearly abandoned on the floor as he'd caught her leaping towards him. And yet the expression on his face was nothing short of lovestruck.

"We missed you, Princess." He grinned down at her, accompanied by a yip which, matt was startled to realise , had come from a corgi, strapped into a backpack wearing jesus christ were those motorcycle goggles?!

Matt was roughly shoved past by Mr Sharma as this man set Kate gently on the ground, followed by the dog.

"Anthony, son, how was your ride?" This was Anthony?! This terrifying man was the boyfriend the Sharmas loved so much?! Matt was baffled as Mrs. Sharma bustled past him.

"It was great, thanks Tom." Anthony was saying. Tom?! Matt had hardly been able to get Eddie's Dad to say three words together to him. "Newton had a great time."

"Anthony sweetheart, you look skinny!" Mrs. Sharma was saying, practically dragging Anthony past Matt. Skinny?! His arm was thicker than Matt's neck. "Doesn't Katie feed you up there?"

"He does the cooking, Mary!" Kate was saying, rolling her eyes as Anthony grinned.

"Not at all, Mary, I'm wasting away."

"Oh you poor thing, I'll make you something." Mrs. Sharma said completely ignoring her daughter.

"hey Kiddo." Anthony grinned at Eddie as he passed.

Matt watched, his mind desperately trying to catch up, as Mrs. Sharma placed an entire banquet platter of samosas in front of Anthony not too long after.

"Mary, these are some of your best. Beautiful!" Anthony said happily kissing Mrs. Sharma on the cheek as she past, Kate humming happily in his lap.

'Oh you're sweet."

And finally, Matt was terrified to say, Anthony's attention fell on him. "Who's this then Eddie?"

"Eddie's boyfriend, Mark." Mr Sharma said a little dryly.

"Matt, Dad." Edwina said rolling her eyes.

"Oh right, Matt." Mr Sharma said, still paying him no mind.

And honestly, as if the day wasn't odd enough, Matt had to scoot, his bicycle past Anthony's enormous motorbike, and he was positive, the dog had come out of that sidecar.

[ibijau]

Futures Past pt15 / on AO3

Nie Huaisang returns to the Unclean Realm after his failed year in Gusu

The Unclean Realm, usually a noisy place, had fallen nearly entirely silent as most of the disciples and quite a few servants gathered around its gate. They were all careful to keep a respectable distance from the gate in question, in case things went wrong, but still did their best to be close enough to get a good view. Not that it was particularly necessary to be near enough to hear what was happening. Nie Mingjue had a voice that carried, and it only got worse when he was angry at his brother.

Which he currently was, of course, and for good reason everyone thought. After all, Nie Huaisang had just returned from his time studying in the Cloud Recesses, though he’d apparently done little learning there.

But it wasn’t his failure to pass his exams that had his brother so upset. It was more the fact that on the way back home, Nie Huaisang had decided to leave on his own and disappeared for well over three weeks. The other Nie disciples travelling with him had just found a note on his bed one morning announcing that he didn’t feel like going home yet. They had panicked and sent an urgent message to their sect leader, who had also panicked and launched a search for his brother, in vain.

“You could have been kidnapped!” Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother, who had arrived that morning, looking as careless as if he’d just been gone for a shichen on an errand. “You could have been attacked by bandits! Did you even have your sabre with you?”

“Of course I did!” Nie Huaisang exclaimed, patting the weapon at his waist. “What was I going to do, walk around?”

“It would have been safer than flying in your case! What if you’d fallen?”

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes. His cultivation had actually improved quite a bit while he was in the Cloud Recesses, if only because the Lans didn’t let him avoid training as much as his brother did. He was even quite close to forming a golden core, something he’d more or less given up on, and for which he hoped he’d get praised, whenever his brother calmed down enough to hear the news. So while he wasn’t the strongest of flyers, he was doing much better than he used to.

Not that Nie Mingjue was in any mood to hear that.

“I was careful, I swear,” Nie Huaisang sighed. “You’re always saying I should be more independent anyway!”

“Independent, not reckless! And who’s that?” Nie Mingjue roared, pointing at the person next to his brother.

That had been the question on everyone's mind since Nie Huaisang had arrived a little earlier, a boy much younger than himself walking at his side, but so far Nie Huaisang had avoided answering.

“Oh, that’s Xue Yang,” Nie Huaisang cheerfully announced, patting the young boy’s shoulder. “I picked him up along the way. You should test him, I really think he’s going to be a great cultivator someday! Xue Yang, that’s my brother, say hi to him?”

Xue Yang threw Nie Mingjue a very unimpressed look, and gave a half-hearted bow.

“It's an honour to meet Nie zongzhu,” he said with some uncertainty, probably wishing he hadn't been so close while Nie Mingjue shouted at his brother like that.

“Huaisang, where did you find that child?” Nie Mingjue asked.

“It’s a long story,” his brother said.

Nie Mingjue nodded, and waited for the story in question to be told. Nie Huaisang just smiled at him.

“Are you going to tell me how you found him?” Nie Mingjue insisted when nothing more came.

“No. It’s a long story, but it’s not very interesting. He’s here now, though, so that can’t be helped.”

Hearing this, Nie Mingjue turned his attention to Xue Yang, as if hoping he might get an explanation there. The young boy just gave him a wicked smile.

“He said I’d get candies if I came,” Xue Yang said. “Am I gonna get them now or what?”

Nie Mingju’s eyes snapped back to his brother.

“Huaisang, did you steal a child by offering him treats? You realise how bad that looks?”

“It’s not stealing when it’s a person,” Nie Huaisang protested, nervously twisting his fingers for a moment before hiding his hands behind his back. “And I think children count as people, not things. Right?”

“Fine. Did you kidnap a child?”

A little embarrassed, Nie Huaisang hunched his shoulder and looked down at his feet without answering. A mistake, it turned out, because Xue Yang took that as his cue to explain things.

“It’s okay, I don’t have a family anyway,” Xue Yang announced. “He asked before taking me with him, to make sure I’m an orphan. And your brother’s nice. He took me to all those nice inns along the way, and every time he made sure I had food and a bath. He said the baths were very important.”

Nie Mingjue glared at his brother who winced because that could indeed be misunderstood. Which was exactly why Xue Yang had said it like that, he suspected. But really, Xue Yang had been in a pretty bad state when Nie Huaisang had picked him up. His hair was nearly stiff with dirty, he’d recently bled all over his clothes, and he had lice, and...

“Fine, I guess I’ll have to tell the story,” Nie Huaisang grumbled. He had already come up with a sanitised version of events that he could actually share with his brother, but it still annoyed him to not be trusted more. “So, I wanted to visit Kuizhou, you see? Everyone says the landscapes around it are so gorgeous, and so melancholic, and they are by the way. I want to go back to paint and write and…”

“Focus, Huaisang,” Nie Mingjue ordered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes, right. So, I went there,” Nie Huaisang said, playing with the hem of his sleeve. “And I was visiting and stuff, and then I see a grown man punching and kicking a kid! Just because the kid had grabbed a few things from him!”

“Yeah, it was just his purse, and there wasn’t even that much money in it,” Xue Yang helpfully provided. “Well, and a few buns from his stall, and those apples from the stall next to his, and…”

“Shut it,” Nie Huaisang hissed, before returning his attention to his brother, a bright smile on his face. “So, you always say we have to defend the weak, and nobody’s weaker than a kid, so I went to check what was going on, right? And the man told me that kid is a terrible thief that’s plaguing their town, and he’s going to beat him up until all his bones are broken and he can never bother anyone else. But it’s just a kid!”

“Yeah, I’m just a kid!”

“Shut it! Anyway, I rescued the kid, because he really was in a bad state. And then I figured, well, how can someone that’s just a kid be such a good thief, right? So I checked and he’s got good dispositions for cultivation!”

It had been a lucky realisation, because he hadn’t known for sure that Xue Yang even was meant to become a cultivator, nor a talented one for that matter. In fact, the whole thing had been unbelievably lucky. Sure Nie Huaisang had spent three whole days searching everywhere for Xue Yang, but he’d been about ready to give up when he’d finally found him in roughly the exact way he'd described.

“The local sect are a bunch of pricks who didn’t want to take him in when I asked,” Nie Huaisang explained, as if he could ever have left Xue Yang into the care of strangers who might have failed to stop him from becoming evil. “So I brought him home. He’s going to be a great disciple!”

Having listened to that story with mounting annoyance, Nie Mingjue glared at his brother.

“Huaisang, that’s…”

“You always say people deserve a chance no matter their background!”

“Oh so you do listen when I talk sometimes?”

“He’s an orphan, and he’s talented, and someone has to do something, and we can’t send him back or else he might continue stealing maybe!”

“I’ll definitely continue stealing if you send me back,” Xue Yang promised with a smirk.

Nie Huaisang glared at him. Evil or not, Xue Yang knew how to be annoying.

He also knew how to be charming, though. He’d been absolutely delightful with a bunch of people they’d met on the way to Qinghe whenever he’d thought he could get something out of it. And it had worked, too. Xue Yang had obtained a lot of sweets from a lot of people, as well as some money here and there. And that was without mentioning the stuff he’d just outright stolen, sometimes from the very people generously sharing something with him. He was a little pest, all right.

But he was smart too, smart enough to understand what an incredible opportunity he’d been given. It would have been easy for Xue Yang to run away into the night, taking with him all of Nie Huaisang’s money. He was a skilled enough thief to manage it, especially once he’d realised that Nie Huaisang wasn’t a skilled enough cultivator to pursue him. But he hadn’t, because he’d been promised a chance of becoming a cultivator if Nie Huaisang could just convince his brother.

Of course, that was a pretty big 'if'.

A year earlier, Nie Huaisang would have been certain that he could convince his brother of anything. He’d never had any reason to doubt that, not until his future self had come into his life uninvited and whispered poison to him about Nie Mingjue having a bad opinion of him. And maybe he was right, that old prick. Nie Huaisang had messed up so badly in the Cloud Recesses, failing his classes in a way most people never did. He’d shamed his sect, his clan, his brother, and now he had the galls of asking for a huge favour, as if he had any right to…

“How old are you?” Nie Mingjue asked Xue Yang, who shrugged.

“Dunno. I think I’m older than nine, maybe, ‘cause I remember that bad drought we had one year. But old Cheng says I’m probably less than twelve, ‘cause I don’t have all my teeth yet.”

To prove his point, Xue Yang clenched his jaw and bared his teeth. He was indeed missing one canine on the left, while the right one was just starting to regrow. It made for a very odd smile, and yet Xue Yang knew how to use that to look cute sometimes.

Cuteness wouldn’t work on Nie Mingjue though. Years of dealing with Nie Huaisang had made him nearly immune to it.

"What did my idiot brother tell you to convince you to come all the way here from Kuizhou?" 

"He said I'd learn to be a cultivator, and people wouldn't beat me up ever again for stealing," Xue Yang recited. "And he said I'd have to learn to be good and stuff, because it's a second chance for an honest life, and I figured, well, it's better than the streets."

Nie Mingjue nodded, though he still looked severe enough that Nie Huaisang wasn’t sure yet of his victory. 

"We have a certain way of doing things in my sect, and dishonesty isn't allowed. And I'll need to check if you can be taught at all. Come closer and give me your hand." 

Xue Yang, impossibly cocky a moment before, suddenly hesitated and glanced at both Nie brothers before hiding his hands behind his back. 

"Which hand ?" 

"Either one, it makes no difference." 

"It might a bit," Xue Yang grumbled before reluctantly raising both hands. 

Nie Mingjue frowned when he noticed that one finger was missing, but Nie Huaisang took it to be an encouraging frown and finally relaxed. It expressed concern rather than anger, and that had to be a step in the right direction. 

"That looks old," Nie Mingjue noted, grabbing Xue Yang's left hand to inspect it. "Hm. That's not neat enough to have been cut off. What happened to you?" 

"Someone's cart ran over my hand on purpose," Xue Yang muttered, trying in vain to pull his hand free. "I was little. It's fine now, I swear!"

It was far from fine, actually. Xue Yang himself might not have realised it since he was used to it, but Nie Huaisang had noticed that the young boy favoured his right hand a lot more than was normal, even for a right-handed person. In another sect, that might have been a problem. But Qinghe Nie was more martial than most others, a little more reckless too, and they had their share of cultivators who'd had nasty accidents. 

A missing finger in a stiff hand wasn't so bad compared to some people. 

"We'll have to get you a light sabre," Nie Mingjue said, mostly to himself after a quick check of the boy’s meridians. "Something you can use one-handed, like Huaisang. And I'll ask our doctor to have a look at it. It looks painful." 

"No, it's fine, I don't feel pain anymore," Xue Yang proudly announced as he pulled his hand free. "Trained myself out of it, mostly."

"You are definitely going to see Zhilan," Nie Mingjue replied, frowning harder. "Huaisang’s right, you do have potential, so we'll train you.” He turned toward their audience of disciples, and gestured for one man to walk closer. “Zonghui! Come and give that kid a tour, and a meal. When he's eaten, take him to see Zhilan, and have a bed prepared for him."

“I’m in?” Xue Yang asked, so startled that for once, he really did look his age.

He glanced at Nie Huaisang who grinned at him and nodded, then turned his eyes back to Nie Mingjue who nodded as well.

“You’re in. Go with Nie Zonghui, he’ll explain everything you need to know about being part of this sect.”

With surprising obedience that had to be a side effect of surprise, Xue Yang trotted away with Nie Mingjue’s first disciple. Nie Huaisang tried to follow, equal parts curious and worried about what might happen next if he lost sight of Xue Yang. He hadn’t taken two steps before Nie Mingjue grabbed him by the collar to stop him.

“And where are you going?”

Nie Huaisang pointed toward Xue Yang. His brother gave him a pointed look, and started dragging him in another direction, leaving him no choice but to follow or be strangled.

“I’m tired,” Nie Huaisang complained. Then, noticing that they appeared to be going toward the training grounds, he struggled against his brother’s grasp. “Wait, da-ge, I’m really tired, I mean it! We’ve had to walk so long, you know! We’ve only been able to hitch a ride on carts for some of the way, so I can’t feel my legs anymore for how much walking I’ve done lately.”

“If you’d come home directly from the Cloud Recesses, you’d have ridden in a carriage,” Nie Mingjue retorted without an ounce of pity. “Now let’s see if you’ve made any progress with your sabre, aside from using it to run away. We’re going to spar together.”

“I can’t, I’m so tired!” Nie Huaisang whined. “I’m going to die if I have to move! And you’re so much stronger than me, there’s no point in training together, the difference is too great! Da-ge, have some mercy, let me eat something first! Let me rest! And I need to change clothes too, and I really should check how my birds are, and…”

“Shut up you brat! This is your punishment for getting me so worried!” Nie Mingjue snapped, pushing his brother onto the softer soil of the training ground. “Do your warm-ups!”

“But I’m starving, da-ge!”

“That’s your own fault for running away!” Nie Mingjue replied, showing yet again he was the most cruel person in the entire world.

And yet as soon as Nie Huaisang started stretching in preparation for a friendly fight, Nie Mingjue asked a disciple to go ask the kitchens if they might send some fresh buns and a little tea that way. Aggravated as he was that his brother only cared about checking his cultivation and martial art progress, Nie Huaisang couldn’t help but smile.

After everything his older self had said about Nie Mingjue really despising him, he’d been worried that his brother would indeed be furious at him for everything he’d done, from failing his classes to forcing him to take in a miscreant. But no matter how shouty and frowny he currently was, it was clear to anyone who knew him, as his brother did, that Nie Mingjue was worried-angry rather than angry-angry.

Nie Huaisang had gambled and won, thus proving to himself that he definitely knew his brother better than his older self did.

[castthy-nightedcolour]

One- Shot: A Different Side (written as part of my series ‘don’t worry about a thing’ on AO3, link can be found at the bottom of the post as it won’t let me embed it)

Fandom: Good Omens

Characters: GN Reader, Crowley, a very annoying mouse

Warnings and Tags: snakes, animal death/ harm, swearing, uh oh we have a pest control problem, snake crowley, comfort , are they aren’t they

Summary: mouse traps, a skip full of rubbish and a broken down bus. not exactly your dream day, but your favourite demonic entity has a trick up his sleeve and behind his glasses to help you.

Word Count: 2778

Link to original: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31055930/chapters/81050182

If there was one word to describe your mood, that word would be vile. Tiny little irritants throughout the day had built to a simmering anger:

-Firstly, your bus into town had broken down about ten minutes away from your stop, meaning that you were forced to trek your way to the shops.

-Secondly, your trip to said shops wasn’t for any kind of retail therapy, but was instead to buy mouse traps. Your usually serene flat had been taken over by a little grey rodent who despite any humane efforts, was refusing to leave. You weren’t usually one for violence towards any living thing, but the little shit was out staying its welcome and had most recently been seen taking a bite out of a loaf of bread.

-When you did eventually get into town, it seemed to be the day for the world’s slowest walkers to take to the streets. Everyone was moving at about two steps per minute and you, being naturally speedy, were constantly waiting for gaps on the pavement to overtake. When you did manage to do this, there would be a whole new couple walking side by side, plodding along at a snail’s pace. You weren’t getting anywhere quick.

All in all, not your finest hour. This all came to a head on Oxford Street, or as you liked to call it, hell.

Your brain felt as though it were made of jelly, your temperature was rising, and someone stopped right in the middle of the street to check their phone. Slamming right into the back of them, you immediately let out something resembling a howl before running to your side off down Old Cavendish Street, somewhere slightly quieter. You leaned against the nearest wall, hot anger bubbling within you for what at the time, seemed like a life or death scenario of you getting out of town with the mousetraps, but in retrospect was just the culmination of various shitty things.

The last thing which you wanted to hear was any sign that you were being perceived, but a teenage boy riding past you on a bike shouting an obnoxious ‘WAHEYYYY’ at you was enough to tip you over the edge. You bashed your head back on the wall, feeling acid tears of anger falling, pedalled down your face by your short temper. Then, another shout came towards you from across the street.

‘Y/N? Is that you?’

You were ready to push yourself off the wall to lunge at this person until your brain caught up with recognition. Tilting your head forwards, your suspicions were confirmed when you saw floppy, ginger hair bouncing over the street atop a leather-clad frame. The sunglasses perched on his nose brought you a feeling somewhere between relief and fear.

You and Crowley had a relationship which can only be described as ‘are they? Aren’t they?’

You sure as hell couldn’t tell if he had any romantic feelings for you, and he gave off vibes so mixed that they were jumbled by this point. People always commented on the electricity between the two of you whenever you were together, but you tried not to get your hopes up and usually just put this down to his magnetising nature.

He’d told you about himself, and you thought that he must have trusted you somewhat to be able to disclose that he was a demon to you.

Then again, maybe he was just overly confident.

In the state you were currently in, you couldn’t decide whether to run into his arms to scream, or run as quickly away from him as was physically possible.

Your body chose neither and just stood there, open mouthed and gawking as the tears continued to fall with no effort from your eyelids. Crowley examined you, peering over the top of his sunglasses to try and decipher the scene before him.

‘Don’t tell me someone’s upset you, because I will find them for you, Y/N’ he started, rearing himself up as he spoke. You jumped in.

‘No, no. Not upset. I swear. Just… pissed off. Massively, massively pissed off. Short fuse today, y’see.’

‘Oh. Well, I know all about that. I’m quick to anger at any given moment but then again, ‘s in my nature. What exactly are you doing down here?’

You looked to your side at the gigantic skip full of building waste, then down to your feet where someone’s puke sat. You looked back up to the demon.

‘It was a quick escape, one that was made before I slapped someone in the face.’

Crowley looked slightly taken aback, not expecting any expression of violence from you considering your usually placid nature.

‘Ooookay. Well, I won’t ask for details but, here.’ He leaned over slightly and brushed away some of the tears which were still running down your face. You could swear that you both stopped breathing for a moment as he touched you but then again, you weren’t in a fit state for rational thinking.

‘Thank you,’ you breathed out. ‘I’m all good, I promise. Just need to breathe.’ You gave a reassuring smile to the demon and noticed him looking down to your hand, holding a flimsy plastic bag containing the mouse traps.

‘What you got there? Looks interesting.’ He said, tilting his head to try and get a closer look. You brought the bag up to your chest.

‘Oh, mouse traps. There’s a little shit thinking that he owns my flat who’s probably currently in my bread bin. Thought I’d stop the problem while I could, considering there’s that saying about seeing mice. Y’know, for every mouse you see, there’s always another one somewhere. Can’t wait to clean that up!’ Your words had somewhat of a bite, being spat like venom.

‘Woah. You really are pissed, aren’t you?’ Crowley responded, half smirking. For some reason, this set you off again.

‘Yes. Yes, actually I am. Because y’know what? This day has been fucking horrific! I genuinely don’t think that I’ve had two consecutive minutes of peace since the second I woke up. I can’t relax because of the mouse, then there was the bus, and the walking, and the pain in my feet, and the twat who decided to check his phone in the middle of Oxford Street. Sorry, who the hell does that? I just feel like I’ve been left out of any plans that the universe had to let people go about their day without a care in the world. So yes, I’m fuming.’ You gave a huff before realising that you were now crying again. Crowley stood slightly dumbstruck, shifting his weight between his feet. You glanced off to the side, watching the shoppers propel themselves down Oxford Street.

The demon then spoke, his voice low and sincere.

‘Can I give you a lift?’

—

After what felt like a windswept journey in the Bentley, Crowley screeched to a halt outside your flat. Jolting forwards slightly, the plastic bag containing the mouse traps crinkled between your legs.

You’d calmed down quite significantly, but now felt a combination of complete embarrassment that you’d had such an outburst in front of the being that you completely adored, and absolute excitement that he’d even offered you a lift. This wasn’t helped when you heard him say,

‘Let me walk you upstairs. Check that you’re okay.’

You felt fizzy, and as the two of you trudged up to your flat, you felt as though you could lift off any second. As you unlocked your front door, Crowley leaned on the doorframe, peering in to the hallway as you threw your bag on the floor. You suddenly regretted this as when the bag hit the floor, there was a scuttle from under your bedroom door, and the little mouse took one giant sprint off towards the kitchen. You screamed in shock as the little bastard took itself away, and Crowley grabbed onto your arm. This made you jump for a second time.

‘Woah woah there, calm down. It’s just a little mouse, we’ll sort this,’ Crowley sweetly spoke, lulling your heart back to a slightly normal rate. You looked down to his arm resting on yours and couldn’t help but smile slightly.

Crowley had a look on his face which would have read from ten miles away as one with a scheme brewing.

‘Look Y/N, I’m going to do something here which I don’t do very often, and all I’m asking is that you don’t freak out,’ the demon announced.

You couldn’t help but make a sarcastic joke.

‘What’s that then, the housework?’ Smirking, you looked up at Crowley who glared at you through his sunglasses.

‘Fine, you don’t need my help!’ He huffed, obviously taking the piss but you couldn’t help but tease him back into good spirits.

‘No no, sorry Crowley. What have you got for me?’

‘Snake.’

You stood there for a second, trying to make any sense of what he just said and burning up slightly as you wondered if this was perhaps his way of flirting.

‘A… a snake? You have a snake?’

‘Yes. Well, no. Well… yes. Look it’s complicated, can I just show you?’

Uh oh. Maybe this was him flirting.

You thought for a second before hearing an almighty crash from the kitchen, and from down the hallway you saw an entire loaf of bread fall to the ground, followed by a small army of mice. Again, you let out a scream as Crowley slammed the door shut behind the both of you.

‘How fucking many are there now?!’ You exclaimed, turning to face Crowley who was now quickly shifting between his feet. He suddenly grabbed your shoulders.

‘Look Y/N, tell me quick, do you have a phobia?’

‘Of mice? I think that’s pretty evident Crow-‘

‘No, of snakes. Are you scared of snakes?’

‘What is it with you and these snakes?’ You laughed. The demon then stood dead still and stared right at you.

‘Stay still. Don’t freak out please. I promise this will help.’

Before you knew it, Crowley’s hands had disappeared off your shoulders and he seemed to disappear entirely from before you. Confused, you looked down at the floor.

What you saw took your breath away for what felt like forever.

Rows and rows of black scales suddenly lined your hallway, flowing from side to side as the form made its way towards the kitchen. This didn’t take long, considering the snake’s body seemed to run on forever, there must have been at least 10 metres of the creature occupying your apartment.

You’d never really considered Crowley’s powers before. While you were aware that he was a demon, this thought didn’t control your every interaction with him. He was just Crowley- your friend Crowley- your possibly more than a friend Crowley- your Crowley. Shapeshifting had never been part of the picture.

But it was so, so beautiful.

Moving.

And snakes were never your favourite but this was just something else.

Squeals of mouse terror came from the kitchen as a massive shadow rose up throughout the whole apartment. Crowley was sitting up on his body, his head pointed towards any mouse that he could detect and a razor sharp stare in his luminescent eyes.

Your favourite part of this whole scenario was laying on the floor in front of you- Crowley’s sunglasses, sans Crowley for the first time ever. You smiled as you bent down to pick them up, your feet planted to the spot due to the inherently overwhelming nature of what was happening. You ran your fingers over the frames feeling the heat that was stored in them.

There was something so human about the lingering warmth to the metal, but that thing that made it so distinctively Crowley was the fact that the heat never seemed to fade.

The floor seemed to move as the scales once again shifted, with Crowley turning round to come back towards you. Cold fear seized your entire body, despite the oddly comforting and protective energy of this gigantic creature. His yellow eyes were right in front of your face before you’d even managed to properly react to him moving towards you.

You blinked and the Crowley that you knew and … ahem… was standing in front you, a live mouse swinging from his hand by the tail.

‘Consider those rodents dispatched.’

The mouse in his hand was thrashing wildly from side to side and while you hated the little shits, you couldn’t help but feel sorry for it. You went to protest but no words came out of your mouth.

You’d just witnessed something- something that couldn’t exactly be described as a miracle but to you- maybe?

Crowley noticed the panic in your eyes directed towards the mouse and realised what he needed to do. The mouse disappeared in another of your blinks.

There were so many pressing questions on your mind, but you only managed to actually articulate one of them.

‘Please tell me you didn’t eat those mice, Crowley?’ Your tone was somewhere between intrigue and massive concern.

The demon scoffed, ‘I prefer oysters normally, Y/N. No, I didn’t eat them. I can assure you though, they won’t be back any time soon.’

Palpable silence hung between the two of you. You naturally seemed to hold out Crowley’s sunglasses to him, staring directly into the eyes which served as a reminder of his other form as you did so.

Crowley went to slowly take the glasses off you, but in a snap decision, you snatched them back. Crowley wasn’t exactly thrilled by this.

‘Hey, don’t play games with those. They’re my-‘

He didn’t stand a chance of finishing his sentence before you jumped in, with your subconscious mind taking a grasp on your mouth. Maybe this was a trick of Crowley’s, but at least some of it came from your heart.

‘Do it again. Turn back.’

The two of you stared at each other as a smirk took over the demon’s face.

‘Really? It seemed to terrify you, dearest.’

The cockiness in his voice only persuaded you to carry on pushing.

‘Not at all! No no, it was just... well it was a shock at first. Obviously. Like who the hell else can do that? But no, not terror. It’s intrigue. I swear.’

You made sure to assert yourself in your voice as your brain convinced you that you would never rest again unless Crowley turned back into a snake. It was almost like the sheer shock had morphed into utter obsession in a matter of seconds.

And maybe you just adored every part of Crowley and him being vulnerable in showing a new side to you? Well...

Again, you blinked and he was gone for a moment, before the black reptile rose up to meet your gaze. He hadn’t continued to question you.

The presence was unexplainable, physically so big in the space but even just the idea of him just seemed to fill up every corner of the place. Moving the sunglasses into your right hand, you tentatively raised up your left.

‘Can... may I? Can I touch?’ You softly asked, mimicking a petting action in the air. Somehow, Crowley let you know that it was okay, pulling your hand towards him with some kind of magnetising energy.

Your fingers lightly brushed the scales on his head and you took a breath so deep you almost triggered hiccups. The texture was confusing, it almost seemed like it was shifting forms by the second- smooth then rough, hard then feather soft, but still always cool as marble. You fully rested your hand down as you glanced along the entire body, once again filling up the entire hallway.

‘Crowley, this is beautiful. I mean that.’ You whispered, transfixed on what you were seeing.

Then, the unimaginable happened. Your hand which had ended up resting on the snake’s head suddenly felt warm.

Was... was he blushing? You decided to test the water slightly more.

‘I didn’t even imagine that anything could be so magnificent but, well. Here you are. So gorgeous.’

Sure enough, another flush felt through your hand.

‘Crowley, are you blushing?’ You giggled. The heat on his face then took another rise, this time enough to hurt you slightly. You drew your hand away instinctually, but with a smile still on your face.

This was now a day worth noting. The day that started with a mouse in a bread bin and some unfortunately placed anger, and ended as the day that you made a snake blush.

And of course, he made you blush too.

A new side of Crowley. One that you couldn’t help but adore.

[tsukiida]

pining — bakugou katsuki

— info :: bakugou x gn!reader ; sfw ; slight angst & humour ; 3.13k words.

— contents :: quirkless reader ; bakugou’s pov ; one-sided attraction ; bakugou being bakugou ; well-meaning wingmen bakusquad.

— synopsis :: katsuki hates the way you make him feel.

— note :: this is my first time writing bnha, let alone bakugou, I hope I do it justice… if you read this, thank you, I hope you like it! :)

katsuki swears he hates you.

to be honest, he’d rather hate you, than feel like… this about you.

he’s convinced you’re messing with him. your quirk must make it so, because there’s no other reason why he feels his body heat up, his heart beat quicker somewhere deep in his chest, every time he thinks of you. you’re definitely doing it on purpose.

it’s that damned shopping trip to blame.

the girls had dragged everyone out to have some bonding time, which is the shittiest excuse katsuki has ever heard for splurging and buying pretty dessert that clogs up arteries. he’d have skipped out on it, but raccoon eyes begged kirishima, who in turn begged katsuki.

that’s another thing that pisses him off; remembering exactly how the other boy had convinced him. really, he couldn’t give less of a shit about something like romance, but of course the extras are going out of their mind about how popular they are with their preferred gender, and of course they had to drag him into it.

no, he doesn’t care at all, but it hurts his ego pride to entertain the idea that he might not be #1 at something even as petty as that.

hell, he doesn’t even care about being #1, as long as he’s doing better than deku.

but he’s not blind. cheeks is obsessed with the green haired idiot, her heart probably having a taste of her own quirk and shooting off into the universe fluttering madly every time she looks at him.

it’s like the world is out to get him, because not only did he have to accompany all the losers to their stupid trip, but he also had to, under duress, with that goal in mind? really? grade schoolers, the whole lot of them.

what he hates most about the whole thing is you, though.

and you’re doing exactly the things he hates.

ever since you stumbled across deku during that trip, tapped him on the shoulder and smiled at him, it’s like you punched katsuki in the gut. he can’t forget the way you’d looked so meek, but still somehow comfortable around deku, and he’d be damned if he doesn’t hate that.

and for the life of him, he can’t recall ever seeing you during his days in middle school. you claimed that you’d been classmates with deku – and by extension, katsuki – for an entire year, and deku sure seems to recognise you. but katsuki doesn’t. deku lights up like a stupid bulb, but katsuki does not.

he hadn’t needed to know details about any of the dumb extras that had infested middle school, more so any of them who didn’t already seem to know that he is the best. that must’ve been why he didn’t know you. there weren’t too many people who didn’t believe in his worth, but the ones who didn’t… they weren’t special enough for him to remember. they could never prove him wrong, after all. they were nothing.

but you.

he hates you. he strongly dislikes you. he can’t stand you.

and you seem to love that shitty deku.

no, it’s not the same kind of emotion that uraraka holds for him.

you absolutely adore that girl too, and she treats you nicely enough despite the wary look in her eyes initially, when she thought she was being subtle while hovering around deku.

no, katsuki hasn’t been observing. especially not because he’s interested. he is literally just looking out for himself, because he doesn’t want to be blindsided just because he wasn’t careful of some scheming pest.

the pest in question being you.

you’re already wreaking havoc on his mind, full of nothing but thoughts of you, other than being #1. he would never give up on that, no matter how much you make his heart pound and palms sweat.

you’re kinda helpful for his quirk, actually, and that’s the only reason he hasn’t already blasted you off into nothingness. the accelerated heart rate does wonders for him. but he doesn’t want to credit you either for something he could achieve with his own hard work.

he can definitely credit you for being the most annoying idiot that he knows, though. your quirk is painful, because late at night when he’s alone, he’s hit by images of your face. you hang out so much with his classmates now, he can’t help it. he can’t even sleep peacefully, because when he does fall asleep, his often dreamless nights are swapped out for stupid sequences produced by his subconscious involving you, because of your silly little quirk that you think katsuki is unaware of.

it gets worse.

he finds out you’re quirkless.

he storms up to you when he’s had enough. not only do you go to a school quite near theirs, but you also always have time to meet up, and isn’t that super convenient for whatever grand scheme you’ve concocted in order to try and take down bakugou katsuki.

it’s a half-growled and half-whispered, threat-filled one-sided conversation between him and you when he asks you to stop whatever you’re trying to do. you, being the infuriating person that you are, just tilt your head and stare at him in confusion. in the name of all might, that should not make his heart skip a beat, because he doesn’t have any intention of using his quirk right now. he just wants you to stop using yours. that’s all he’s there for.

but then you just shrug slightly, that damned nervous smile plastered on your face that you’ve barely been showing anymore, now that you’re comfortable with the extras. you shake your head when he asks you, as nicely as he can, to stop whatever messed up thing you like doing to him.

“this your way of trying to win against me? you can’t,” he grits through his teeth, fingers itching to create little explosions. he’s not going to show his off when asking you to call yours off. he won’t—

you tell him you have no idea what he’s talking about, because you’re as quirkless as they come.

with all the strength that he can muster within himself to not have an outburst, he asks you to repeat yourself.

you do. “i’m quirkless.”

in the end, he can’t help himself, and sets off a series of minute explosions that have you hopping back, out of his arm’s reach. as if he’d harm you with them, he thinks while glaring at you.

katsuki would like to say that he got over it quickly, but it takes a while, truthfully. at first he can’t wrap his mind around the fact that you’re quirkless, because then every thought of you that’s haunted him the past few months is without explanation.

you being quirkless literally opens up so many other questions. if you’re quirkless, then who’s to blame for everything happening to him? is it someone else at fault? are you just stupid and oblivious and unaware of your own quirk? did it manifest late? did someone grant it to you? there are so many questions, and things are still the same, if not worse. he barely thinks of anything else.

at least he can write it off in the name of being better at defending himself from stray quirks affecting him.

he hates it, but he asks kirishima, very subtly, if he’s heard of anyone whose quirk has the effects katsuki hates suffering from. the stupid redhead simply looks him dead in the eye and says that it sounds like the case of a bad crush quirk, something out of cheap romance novels which might be quite dangerous in practice, before proceeding to ask katsuki why he’s curious about it. bless his stupid soul, sometimes, because he completely buys the lie katsuki feeds him.

he didn’t want to have to convince kirishima that he doesn’t have a crush. because he doesn’t want to even entertain the idea of having a crush on stupid little you.

especially when you barely even give him the time of day anymore.

well, you’ve never really been the closest to him, nor does he want that, thank you very much! but it seems like the only time you and him ever had a proper conversation was when he asked you about your quirk, and that too ended badly, with barely any words exchanged. but at least you used to smile at him. not that he liked it or anything, but it was better than you giving him the cold shoulder.

are the extras actually more interesting to you than katsuki is? he’s a little miffed if that’s the case. but whenever he talks, you hear him, sometimes even respond to him, so perhaps it’s not a matter of ignoring him.

it’s just one thing you do.

you avoid his eyes.

it’s subtle enough that no one else notices, and the first few times he sees you look away when your eyes meet his, his breath catches in his throat and he’s almost too shocked to breathe in.

he knows that he’s not done anything to warrant that reaction from you. perhaps you’re simply realising after a long time that he’s the one you should be paying attention to, rather than all the extras. and perhaps it’s easier for you to pay attention to him with your ears rather than your eyes. he can understand that. your eyes seem to have that effect on him too; it’s entirely possible that this way is easier for you to focus on him.

maybe he makes you nervous.

there are so many maybes, but that thought still makes a grin tug at his lips, seeing which kirishima almost gets nervous. yeah, he’s getting cocky.

but that’s fine. he doesn’t plan on approaching you yet.

after all, if you’re into him, you should be brave enough to tell him.

…

honestly, it’s completely the electric eel’s fault. really, it’s 100% his fault because he thinks it’s fun to talk about stupid shit around katsuki. stupid shit like you possibly having a crush on deku, even though all signs say otherwise.

katsuki was willing to overlook that, but then raccoon eyes decided to encourage that hypothesis, and soon the idiots around him were talking in hushed whispers about deku’s supposed fanclub. such a situation definitely warranted katsuki blowing up their asses during training.

katsuki hates training with deku with a burning passion, but such a situation also warranted going up to him and demanding that he train with katsuki. if only he’d had enough mind to notice that the class was ending. if only he’d not run his mouth—

“they’ll never even look at you.”

deku doesn’t know shit about what katsuki just said, looking at him like he grew another head – which pisses him off even more – but kirishima and the rest of them know—

they know that katsuki is still hung up over that stupid conversation from days back, and they also know something’s up, and katsuki hates himself for being an idiot.

they corner him, as impossible as that sounds. katsuki would’ve blasted them off into outer space but they literally pile up onto him, clinging and refusing to let go of him even when he threatens to beat their ass again. curse sero’s tape.

katsuki would like to say that he fends them all off and throws them off his case. unfortunately, that does not happen. they find out a few things that day. thankfully, the only things they do find out are: you really get on katsuki’s nerves, and you also have a silly little crush on him.

“for real? are you sure?” ashido asks, eyebrows knit together like it’s something particularly unbelievable, and kaminari nods along uncertainly.

katsuki scoffs. “no other reason why they can’t look me in the eye.”

“i mean, you are kinda scary…” sero starts, but one glare from the scary person in question has him trailing off.

kirishima politely provides, “he’s manly!” and the conversation ends there.

…

oh, but the scheming doesn’t end.

kaminari is a bloody idiot, and encouraged by the equally idiotic sero, both of them come up with various scenarios wherein you and katsuki could stumble into each other, completely coincidentally, as if katsuki can’t hear them gossiping right behind him.

he ends up having to intervene when they get increasingly creative, which only means disaster in katsuki’s book.

“i’ll just wait.” he simply shrugs, watching the idiots get confused.

“fun to watch them squirm when they think they’re being subtle,” he offers further, and kirishima gives him a disapproving look, mumbling something about sadists.

“bakugou,” ashido stares at him critically, opening and shutting her mouth many times before eventually asking, “do you like them?”

after several more explosions, katsuki’s heart beating too fast in his chest, the sweat beading at his temples written off as part of his quirk, he’s able to dispel the idea from her mind.

he’ll never like someone like you.

and he’s still wary of you in the secret corner of his mind, not sure why he reacts the way he does to you. he’s not stupid, he knows what a crush is and how it works, but he really can’t see himself being attracted to you at all.

it has to be something someone concocted to get him weak, but they’re not going to succeed.

even if not having your eyes on him pisses him off more, making him feel irrational and prone to dangerous stunts and outbursts. even if not seeing you around much makes him feel like there’s not much to show off to. even if he really doesn’t feel like there’s anything worth showing off when he spies poor little you hanging around his classmates, quirkless and gentle.

gross.

…

katsuki hates being wrong.

katsuki hates knowing he’s wrong.

katsuki barely ever is wrong.

but when he is, he messes up completely.

if he were to possess the ability to correct one thing, he’d just lock up the idiots who call themselves his friends, and not let them near you.

they notice your little mannerisms too, of course they do when katsuki himself told them that you like him. they notice that you don’t meet his eyes and prefer staying away from him, but still respond to him whenever he talks. they notice that you don’t seem to fear him like some people do; almost as if you’re comfortable with him.

and they also notice things he wishes they didn’t notice, like the way his skin reddens imperceptibly when he sees you, and the way he makes an effort to not blast things up too much in your vicinity.

(it’s not really much use anymore, unfortunately.)

it’s definitely kaminari who is to blame; he always is for everything. katsuki doesn’t need any more reason to want to absolutely pummel him, because with the tape idiot’s encouragement, he bounces up to you one day and asks the dreaded question.

“what do you think of bakugou?” the blond asks, grinning from ear to ear as if he’s done something wonderful, but the way your eyebrow creases in confusion makes katsuki’s heart skip a beat. erratic. he doesn’t know what to make of the expression on your face. and no, he’s not waiting for your response, dammit. he’s 100% busy ignoring everyone. he can’t let you know all of his attention is on him, especially when you’re about to turn your head to look in his direction.

“he’s okay,” the words eventually leave your mouth, and he almost snorts. just okay? are you stupid, or just pretending to be? he knows your vocabulary is bigger than that.

“don’t you…” kaminari leans in dramatically, and katsuki has to strain his ears to hear—

“don’t you like him?”

well, hell. guess someone missed the tact memo.

that’s fine, though, katsuki’s okay with that. maybe letting you shyly avoid him isn’t the best course of action when you refuse to make a move.

you let out a non-committal noise, prompting another round of questions. the way you further get confused and respond with questions of your own makes something nag at the back of katsuki’s mind.

there’s something steadily sinking, and said sinking feeling grows the longer you talk to the electric idiot. by this point, katsuki has realised he’s missing something, but he’s still confident that it’s nothing he can’t overlook at this crucial moment when you spill the beans.

“my dear, sweet y/n, don’t you like bakugou?!” kaminari finally exclaims, possibly frustrated, and katsuki internally wheezes. he’s preoccupied with what you’ll say next, so laughing at the idiot’s expense takes a back seat.

he has to hand it to you; you’re really hard to crack, and it’s almost annoying. katsuki’s tempted to just burst his way over to you and demand a clear confession.

the answer isn’t something he’s expecting.

“not that he’s not, y’know, nice and all,” you babble, clearly stalling. you exhale at the same time as katsuki inhaling, and he holds his breath, waiting for the shoe to drop. really, maybe kaminari isn’t so bad if he can actually weasel the truth out of you with his stupid self.

“it’s just… he’s kind of scary. i try not to get in his way.”

kaminari seems just as stumped as katsuki feels in that moment.

“but… the way you act around him…”

well said, pikachu.

“oh.” that single word feels a bit like a gunshot. “oh, oh, i see. oh, no.” you need to stop saying ‘oh’ so many times, as if that changes anything.

“i’m sure he’s a good guy, but nope, i’m not interested in him romantically. i only act so awkward around him because that’s exactly how he makes me feel. i don’t even know him that well.”

can you stop twisting the knife?

“bakugou noticed,” kaminari mumbles, loud enough that katsuki hears. the words sound like they’re laced with pity. katsuki hates it, but what he hates more is how the idiot’s voice lowers to a whisper to say something to you that he really can’t hear from the distance.

katsuki also hates how your lips part and understanding dawns on your face.

he hates how your eyes meet his, head-on, because he completely forgot to look busy and has been gawking at you for the past few minutes. he hates how your eyes widen before a wary expression crosses your face.

katsuki hates the way you make him feel.

“is that what he’s passing it off as?” you ask, loud enough that he can hear. you’re not making an effort to lower your voice either.

kaminari does not respond to you, and you let out a short laugh, no doubt incredulous.

katsuki feels something within himself snap.

he leaves the room.

— note :: feedback is appreciated! :) I like this open ending because there’s a lot that can happen with it, let me know if anyone wants to see more of this! thanks for reading! :) ETA: if you’re interested in a continuation, you can read “honey”! :)

[lunewell]

The Lunewell Saga - Natura: Ch 3

Chapter 1 here

Chapter 2 here

Can also be read on ao3 (:

Book Sumary:

Zarifa Birch, an antique shop worker with an unusual past, has made a home for herself in the sleepy town of Lunewell. Though the shop she works at is not exactly ordinary, with cryptid items and odd occurrences, she has managed to carve the normal life she always desperately wished for out of it.

However, all that comes crumbling down, as a woman from Zarifa’s past throws everything into chaos. Faced with unimaginable horrors, seemingly unsolvable mysteries, and returning repressed feelings and memories, Zarifa along with her coworkers, must find a way to return the balance- and escape the cruel hands of death in this eldritch horror mystery

As always, he had not been himself in the night. He had been an old man, holding a rather nice-smelling bag, walking through the forest towards… something. Something he cared about.

His thoughts were not quite his own, but not the man's either; more a drowsy sort of mish-mash of voices, a bit like falling asleep in the middle of a bustling city. However, none of it really mattered, as he very much felt, smelled, and lived in the forest, above the crunchy leaves and around the warm scent. So hard to place. It was familiar, and yet, the exact detail of it had faded out.

He could hear his own voice, humming. It did not sound like his voice, not really, but it felt like his own, and that was enough for it to be his own. The vibrations travelled through his chest as he burst out in melodic sounds. He was humming a workers’ song, one that someone in his family had sung. Again, the details were blurry, like there was a block in his brain.

The forest was calm, basking in a sunny glow. Autumn leaves decked the ground, and the trees looked familiar. There was a comfort in this place, a home in the scent of mud and moss, and one that he cherished happily.

The trees, though originally quiet to his senses, rustled softly in a pleasant way. The wind must’ve been extra strong, he must’ve just not noticed it through the thick shield of stems.

The trees rustled once more, and felt a beat against the soles of his feet. It was slight, barely noticeable, but it got him to tilt his stiff, aged, neck downwards, if even just for a second.

It was then that it truly happened.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw the trees curving, but he didn’t have any time to process as he was slammed down to the ground by a vine sprouting from the ground. A crack wrecked through his body, not unlike the sound a carrot makes when snapping, and he, in what simultaneously was and wasn’t his voice, howled in pain. His leg, already weak to begin with, felt as though it had been ripped in two, and he could clearly see red blood leaking from where the knee was bent at an unnatural angle. Fire coursed through his nerves, burning from his leg to his spine. The pain was so mind-numbing that he didn’t notice the much pointier vine heading right for him until it was too late.

As though it was sentient, a throned vine plunged at him, and punctured right into his stomach. It sliced all the way through him, as though his body was not but soft butter, before pulling out in an equally swift motion and landing him limp on the ground.

There was no pain, even as thorns began to wrap around and puncture every millimeter of skin, only numbness. Numbness from pain that could not be described in the English language. Numbness that no one alive had ever felt. Numbness that acted as a relenting defeat against his continuous fight for any hope of life.

And as he lay there, hands bloodstained, stomach gaping, and so incredibly empty, he feared. Feared for his wife, feared for his unachieved goals, feared for what was coming next. Even this fear, however, held a tragic sort of air to it, as it was dulled down by unrelenting numbness.

The numbness faded, along with all thoughts, as white, hot, pain came crashing down like a hammer. He let out one last pitiful, agony filled screech - for a scream was much too human to cover the sound - muffled by the thorns that had stuck themselves into his lips, before everything went black in what was truly the kindest mercy. ————————————————

Bruin awoke with a gasp, clutching his stomach. His eyes darted around his barren room, pulse racing at an olympic level under his skin. With a weak breath - still clutching his stomach with an iron grip - he closed his eyes, and repeated his mantra; You’re Bruin Becker, you’re not them, you’re safe.

The phrase played over and over again in his mind as his vision slowly morphed from a blur of panic, to the usual, groggy morning one. Taking a more stable breath, he slowly let go of his stomach. He couldn’t resist scanning his hands for blood, though he knew there was none.

Once he was sure his hands were clean, he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and watched the world come to life. The white desk and closet popped from the midnight blue walls, the sheets on his bed clear as glass. He glanced at his face in the mirror, and was not surprised at what he saw; deep, dark bags under his slender eyes, porcupine-like hair, and a thin sheet of sweat that lined his forehead.

He collapsed back into his bed with a tired sigh, wanting nothing more than to ignore the clock that was taunting him with the ridiculous hour he had awoken. He would probably do that. Go back to blissful sleep, that is. He doubted he even had gotten an ounce of it because of his stupid… nightmares? Visions? Whatever they were.

He closed his eyes, relaxing back into his bed, mind so far gone and forgetting one quintessentially, very, important thing. A thing he was oh-so-kindly reminded of by what could have only been described as the sound of every single plate in the house shattering at once.

With an almost inhuman speed, Bruin threw the cover from his bed, and darted to the room next door. He adjusted his hair along the way in a frantic motion, pulse having quickened yet again at the commotion. He braked as he reached the kitchen doorway, looking at the source of the sound.

On the grey tiles sat a dazed Grant, covered head to toe in flour, shards of ceramic plates scattered around him like a bomb had just gone off. Grant looked sheepishly at Bruin, blue eyes just as bagged as his own. “Uhh… good morning?”

Bruin couldn’t help the look of absolute disappointment that rolled over his face. “How did you manage to - never mind. I don’t want to know,” he said, exasperated, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Well, if you must know,” Grant began, ignoring Bruin’s statement, “I was trying to make pancakes. Keyword there being trying.” He got up and tried dusting off the flour powdered on him like snow, but gave up almost immediately. “It was a shame really. I make lovely pancakes. It’s the only good thing about living with me, according to my dearest exes.”

“I’m surprised they listed any good things about living with you,” Bruin mumbled, before joining Grant to pick up the last pieces of the plates.

Though he would never admit it, Grant had been a blessing in disguise. When he first rented the little cottage in Lunewell, he had accepted that his co-worker would be an annoying, messy, music-box obsessed pest in the house that he would hopefully have to deal with as little as humanly possible.

Yet, almost like a mold, he had to admit that Grant had grown on him. Sure, he still couldn’t stand the messiness, and he swore that every time he turned a corner he saw another damn music-box, but those were things he had learned to forgive over the years.

“What possessed you to make pancakes?” Bruin questioned as they threw the last pieces in the trash.

Grant quieted, biting his lip.“They’re great comfort food,” he said slowly, as if testing out the words.

Bruin tensed, suddenly hyper aware of the rumbling in his stomach. “Oh,” he said quietly, after minutes of silence, “did you have a bad night’s sleep?” The question was pointless, but Bruin felt the need to ask it anyway. If only to take away from the barking that had begun playing in his ears.

“Yeah,” Grant responded, eyeing him, “I was up working on fixing an antique box, planning to go to bed, but I think someone was begging for their life outside, which wasn’t a very nice sound to fall asleep too.”

It was an invitation, one which he pondered for a while, before finally giving his response; “I wouldn't imagine so, no.”

He looked away as Grant's ocean blue eyes filled with pity, something that hurt him as much as any gun wound. “Hey, I… uh,” Grant began, no longer looking at him, “don’t feel obligated to answer this, but, are they getting worse?”

“You should probably go and get changed. I’ll make some breakfast for us. We still have a while before work.”

Grant, bless his heart, didn’t push. Instead, he simply nodded, vanishing the sad look from his eyes. He was halfway out the door, when he turned around with a snap; “that’s what I was forgetting to tell you!” he said, “Zarifa called earlier, she wants us to come in early.”

“Really? That’s unusual.”

“My thoughts exactly. I didn’t ever find out why though, she remained all vague. Sounded a bit panicked, if I’m honest.”

Bruin nodded. “We’ll head out after you and I get changed then. I’m not really in the mood for breakfast anyway.”

“Aye aye, Bruiny,” Grant said with a mock salute, before slipping out the door and presumably into his bedroom. Bruin did the same, taking one last glance around the rustic kitchen before walking towards his own room with a newfound haste. Zarifa had always been more than lenient with the times they showed and left work, especially once she realised both Grant and Bruin had abysmal sleep quality and patterns, so something like this was not only highly unusual, but equally concerning.

He just hoped nothing too terrible had happened. ——————————————

The walk to the Office was a beautiful one, especially this time of year. They were both bundled in hats and scarves that Grant had insisted on, as golden yellows and flaming hues passed and fell around them. For all the flack they could both give Lunewell - a lack of internet service, isolation from almost everything, and navigational systems that were seemingly built by a sadist - neither could deny that living there on mornings like this was truly a magical experience.

Or would be, were it not for the unfortunate scenario.

“Oh I hope she’s alright,” Grant panted out, slightly out of breath from the speedwalking that bordered on jogging. Working in antiques was unfortunately not a field that kept one in great physical condition, and in moments like this it truly showed.

“I’m sure she’s fine,” Bruin reassured, “thinking logically, we know nothing serious has happened,” probably, “so it’s most likely something mundane, slightly ominous at best.”

Grant looked unsure at that, but didn’t say anything. Under the glasses, Bruin could practically see the well-oiled cogs turning in his head, eyes glaze as though lost in the mechanical world. It was his typical zoning out look, which was for once highly appreciated, as Bruin himself was in no mood to talk.

They walked up the path, letting the old, wooden store come into view. It seemed no different than yesterday, albeit much darker, except for, alarmingly enough, a room in the upstairs flat. They shared a questioning look, panic visible on both their faces, before speeding up and half-sprinting to the door.

With a lead ball in his stomach, Bruin realised that the door was not only unlocked, but stood slightly ajar. He shoved it further open, with an urgency but still lightly, as not to break any antiques.

Even the golden rays of autumn sun couldn’t hide the ruins of the shop. The furniture was at a slight angle, as though a lash had come whipping at the legs, the fragile glass and ceramics that had been close to shattering finally lay dead and dismembered on the floor, and most concerningly, there was an unidentifiable black liquid smelling vaguely of ozone.

“Zarifa?” Grant began calling, stepping over the mess with all the grace of a drunk octopus, “Zari? Boss? Are you in there?” Bruin followed his shouting companion, straightening the furniture as he went. They made it to the counter, still no sight of her, though that was changed as they heard a thunderclap of a sound emitting from the backroom.

They were in the employees’ lounge within seconds of the sound, greeted by the sight of an unusually casually dressed Zarifa surrounded by long walls of antiques, stacked in an organised manner. “Oh good,” she said, upon seeing them, giving them a warm smile that reached her tired eyes, “you made it.”

Bruin wasn’t so much looking at her, as staring at the large pile of antiques behind her. Some of them he recognised, like the ‘Girl in Field’ painting, or that odd statue of an old man made of clay, 200 years old, but painted in a cornflower blue pigment that could be no more than 100, though there were also surprisingly a lot of pieces he had no recollection of seeing. Zarifa, noticing his staring, looked at him apologetically; “Sorry I had to dismantle your system. I tried to keep the organisation, and I promise I’ll help sort it afterwards.”

“It’s fine. I’ll sort it myself,” he assured, not quite sure he truly trusted anyone to touch what he had sorted. Grant was a disaster on legs, and for as much as Zarifa was good at keeping schedule, she lacked the sheer efficient sorting instinct he had had since childhood. “Why is it all up here? Was there water in the basement again?”

Zarifa shook her head, before pulling a slightly splintered, old, wooden box with a golden, dust-painted leaf-engraving on top from behind one of the piles. Bruin’s eyes widened as he remembered where it had previously been, involuntarily glancing upstairs, and then back down to Zarifa. She hadn’t really… had she? No one had ever been in Valours flat, hell, no one even had the key to it.

She opened the lid cautiously, the box creaking as ancient and rusted hinges pulled back. She pulled out aged, folded paper, and slowly laid it down in Bruins hands. Though he would of course properly examine it later, he could tell it was far older than anything he was comfortable holding with his bare, gloveless hands. “It’s more sturdy than it looks,” comforted Zarifa, upon seeing his panicky stature, “go ahead, open it up.”

With a force comparable to a feather, he opened it in precise, calculated movements. He winced as he saw the handwriting, the fine, thin squiggles dating the paper to 300 years old at least, letting go of the note to the point it was barely still in his hands. He felt Grant peeking over his shoulder, and down onto the note curiously, mumbling the words as he read down the torn page.

It wasn’t a very long read, but it added tenfold to the confusion. “What seal?” Grant eventually asked, looking up at Zarifa, “this is the page blonde-pink-girl wanted, right? Why would anyone want this?”

Zaria sighed, looking at the paper with a darkness in her eyes. She looked contemplative, opening her mouth a few times to begin a sentence, before shaking her head and going back to thought. Finally, after tracing the golden part of the box a few rounds, silence echoing the room, she spoke; “We’ve all had encounters with Them before, right?”

Even with that single word, everyone in the room instantly Knew what she was talking about. It was Them that had drawn the entire group to the shop, Them that had left that hollowness that lived in all their eyes, Them that left all of them flinching at sounds and throwing hurried glances over shoulders, and most importantly, Them that created the bond they all shared.

Zarifa signed; “Take a seat, boys. This might require a bit of an explanation.”

—————- After a long, long conversation, involving the raiding of Valour’s alcohol stash for some well earned drinking, along with expensive chocolates for an alcohol-abstaining Bruin, all had finally been explained. There was a silence in the air, tinged in cheap wine and dread, as they all looked intently at the ornate box. “So,” Grant said, clasping his hands ripping away the silence like a band-aid, “we’re dealing with a big orb, monster thingy, which intentions are unknown, who kidnapped our intruder who was reading text that made vines sprout around her and smoke fill her eyes.”

“Yeah, that sums up what I experienced this morning nicely.”

Grant blinked, Bruin hurrying his mouth which had been firmly hidden deeper in his palm. “Fucking hell, I need another drink,” Grant exclaimed with a groan, reaching his hand out with his designated office mug towards Bruin.

“You guys are all out,” Bruin said with a tired voice, “besides, I don’t think alcohol is the wisest right now. I think we should try to figure out what actually happened.”

“Good idea,” Zarifa said with a nod, “we can begin with the note. Funnily enough, it’s the easiest thing here to deconstruct.” She took the box and gave it one last glance over, before rotating it away from herself and giving Grant and Bruin the opportunity to see it; “Obviously the seal is referring to the monster. I think it’s just a matter of gathering the ingredients, and whatever happened, will be reversed.”

Bruin, more than prepared, had already pulled out his black notebook and found an empty page. He looked once again at the section of the note containing the ingredients:

A key is forged by fragments of Touched sanity eating a sight of one that Sees, dipped in water oh-so divine. Once the key has begun, the fragments must sew themselves between the fabric, letting all webbed light shine on them. As they are blessed by the minute, and after the final step of-

And out of the nonsense, quickly jotted down the list of ideas that had been proposed by a slightly tipsy Grant, and an unusually frantic Zarifa;

Fragmented Touched sanity (Magic mind? Pieces of brain?) Sight of one that Sees (Some creature’s eyes obviously, maybe cow eye cult? (Most likely, Grant’s paranoia over cow eye cult, and not actually cow eye cult)) Water divine (Holy water?) Webbed light (Interconnected grids of light? Light systems?)

Jotting them down like that, was sadly, not very revealing. Partly because all their minds were still reeling, and what they had brainstormed was mostly a series of disjointed thoughts rather than a narrative, and partly because there was still so much hidden at the bottom of the riddle ocean. Bruin could still hardly find himself believing Zarifa’s situation, and had it not been for the black liquid stains he saw himself, the cryptic note, and the wobbly tone of her words as she recounted the events, he probably would have dismissed her as being driven a bit mad by paranoia.

Even now, fully aware of the fact that it was real, he was incredibly tempted to just storm out the shop, notebook in hand. Though he encountered the unearthly almost every time he was in deep slumber, he had never actually had a fully conscious encounter. And those… nightmares, visions - whatever they could be called - had left him gluing the pieces of his mind with only the instinct of survival. A real encounter would break him.

And yet, he couldn’t run. He had nowhere to go. Thorns Antique wasn’t so much a place he had chosen to stay, as a shelter he had desperately thrown himself into. Physically, yes of course he could travel or move. Marcus had been asking him if they could move in together for months, and would be more than elated to take him in. And he was sure he could put that business degree to good use.

But, though he was physically free as a dove, his mental wings were clipped. What was he supposed to do when he inevitably woke up one night in Marcus’s bed, screaming about the knife that he was convinced was lodged in his brain? How would he explain the countless of cryptic, weird, objects littered between pages upon pages of ripped-out death notices? Markus would see him as insane, and any future job he would have wouldn’t tolerate his hazy, obsessive, jumpy, and sleep-deprived state.

Though he did not personally know what their stories really were, he suspected Zarifa and Grant were stranded on the same boat of forbidden knowledge. Zarifa had no interest in history, having a passion for literature instead, and a people-pleasing nature and work ethic that could get her far, and Grant, though a bit of a clumsy idiot, was also incredibly academically bright, and a true cityguy at heart. They were an odd group, but a strongly connected one.

Or, at least somewhat connected.

“I propose we figure out what to do now,” Bruin muttered, after reading the bullet points a couple of times, “I don’t think there’s a standard protocol for situations such as these.”

Zarifa hummed in agreement, leaning against the table with a pensive look, sipping on some more wine. “I think we should prioritise figuring out what the riddle is actually saying,” she said, “and I think most of the answers lay here. There must be some connections between all this supernatural weirdness, and I’m pretty sure it lies in the antiques.”

Bruin and Grant nodded, both pulling the wildly uncomfortable chairs close to the table in a loud, squeaking drag. “As for the stuff that we can’t find the answer to,” Zarifa continued, once everyone was seated, “we can always ask for that.” She turned to Grant; “You’ve called Valour, right?”

Grant blinked, the words taking a few seconds to register, before grimacing sheepishly. “I’ll go do that afterwards, promise.” Bruin sighed, but Zarifa simply nodded. She’d always been a lot more forgiving of his scatterbrain than Bruin.

“I’ll do the same with Lottie. Assuming she’s, well, alive. She probably won’t answer, but it's worth a shot.”

“Thought Lottie didn’t give us her number?” Grant said, Bruin mirroring his confusion. Zarifa stiffened, smile dropping by a minuscule amount.

“She didn’t, but I know how to get in contact with her,” she stated, in her best assertive tone. Before Bruin could ask what she meant by that, she powered on, bulldozing in a purposeful manner. “What about you, Bruin?”

Bruin racked his mind for a good answer, recalling what needed to be done, and all the archival systems they had buried in the husk of a computer. “Every item has a corresponding ID, and a short descriptor. I wouldn’t mind taking a look at both the system and the antiques . However, we’re all out of gloves, and our magnifying glass has been broken for two months, so I’ll head to the shop first.”

While this was completely true, Bruin did leave out the little detail that it was also beyond time to see Marcus again. Through a mix of nightly hauntings, and antique mishaps, the days had somehow slipped by without them having a proper chat. He didn’t so much mind the lack of interaction, as the guilt that came with it.

“Thank you,” Zarifa said with a smile, “and, if it isn’t too much of a bother, please keep an eye out for any… unusual sights.” He nodded, her shoulders slumping down visibly, even under the thick cream turtleneck. Grant then promptly slipped out of the room to give Valour a ring with his smashed phone, and Zarifa headed out the front door and into the shop to tidy what was left of the mess, leaving him all alone.

He buried his hands into his neatly combed hair, tension deflating like a balloon as he exhaled heavily. His head was being squeezed by a thick rubber band, though whether it was the usual sleep deprivation or stress was anyone’s guess, and his eyes were droopy and heavy, as if magnets were attempting to pull them closed.

Nevertheless, he got up, pulling his winter coat and messenger bag off the chair. He left the scarf and hat where they lay, feeling they were a bit over the top considering it was only October. Slipping the black notebook into the black and purple bag, he headed out the door, and towards the outside world, heading in a general life direction he was not fully comfortable with.

[donutloverxo]

White horse

Authors note- title is inspired by the song by taylor swift. happy reading💕

here’s part two

Please do not steal or repost my content. Reblogs are welcome.

Summary- It takes you almost dying for you to confess your love to Steve

Tw: life threatening situations, guns

masterlist

Steve Rogers was perfect. There was literally nothing wrong with him. He was unlike anyone you had ever met. He opened doors for you, he was respectful, and just so gosh darn cute! When he'd scratch his neck, a blush creeping up whenever you put your hand on his thigh or said handsome he was.

He was unlike anyone you had ever met or dated. Although the bar for that is pretty low. He was supportive of your career. Often encouraging you to make decisions that scare you. He took care of you without making you feel small. He was an amazing listener who didn't mind listening to your rambles or rants at all.

He reminded you of a golden retriever. Mostly because of the golden hair and how he'd pout and make puppy eyes whenever something didn't go his way. Also because he was fiercly loyal, attentive and fun to be around.

Sure he had his flaws. Like how he absolutely did not think before acting or how reckless and stubborn he was. Or how he always has to have things a certain way. You can't keep the wet towel on the sofa or it will get wet. Or how you can't wear your shoes inside his apartment.

But you didn't mind these flaws one bit. You barely even considered them flaws, he was absolutely flawless and amazing in your eyes. You loved him with all your heart and being. But then... why couldn't you say it?

"Wait so... he's a wolf?", steve asked turning from the screen and looking at you. You both had been cuddling and watching the twilight series to cross it off his list. You thought this kind of movie wouldn't be his cup of tea but you were surprised to see him so absorbed in it.

"Yeah he's a werewolf. A human who can turn into a wolf on command. They're not real though"

"You never know. I didn't think aliens were real but then.." You were interrupted by your timer going off.

You quickly got up and put on your oven mitts to remove your lasagna from the oven. Steve followed behind you.

"What's this?"

"Oh I figured I'd cook some lasagna for you. You said you really liked it remember?", you replied putting the lasagna down on the dinning table. "Maybe we should let it cool down a bit. What do you say?" You looked up at him.

He stalked towards you and bent his neck to get closer to your face.

"Y/n... This is.. I know you don't like cooking so much. You didn't have to do this for me you know?"

"I know. But I just felt like doing something for you. Taking care of you, you know?", you smiled up at him nervously. You had taken a risk doing this. What if he didn't like your cooking? You were sure he'd appreciate the effort, but still..

"Doll... You don't have to do anything for me. But thank you so much for this. I love you", the words rolled off his tongue easily.

You stared at him dumbfounded, shocked and put on the spot. Maybe he doesn't realise what he had said. You didn't know if he expected you to say it back.

"I... ", you stopped yourself being rendered speechless. He looked at you expectedly. "We should probably eat before this gets cold" You said and averted you gaze and started setting the table.

The rest of the evening was a bit awkward but you hadn't mentioned it since. It was best to act as if nothing had happened. Probably.

After trying to put on your fake lashes for the fifteenth time you finally give up. You had been going out for a girls night with Nat and some other friends to a club. You picked up your phone to see a text from Steve.

Hey doll just got back. You wanna grab some dinner?

No, I'm sorry I'm going out with Nat.

Oh don't worry about it. Have fun. Be sure to call me when you get back.

There it was. His perfectness. Still worrying about you and being so protective over you. It made you feel warm but strangely scared at the same time. What would it mean if you just let someone take care of you or give into them? What if you lose yourself in the process? Or what if he takes advantage of your trust.

You sighed and sent him some kissy faces putting your phone in your clutch.

He was such a caring kind soul. You wish you could just say you loved him and showed him off to the entire world.

But the last time you had declared your love and gave your everything to someone, you ended up with a broken heart.

You knew Steve would never break your heart or do anything to hurt you, but he was a superhero and you were just an engineer. Your circumstances were anything but normal. So many things could go wrong.

He had women throwing themselves at him. Not just because he's captain america but also because he's Steve. Kind, caring, sweet and amazing Steve.

You knew he'd never cheat on you, but how long will it take him to realise he's out of your league, or how he deserves so much more than a broken person who doesn't understand his worth.

"Why are you so gloomy? ", Natasha asked and broke you out of your train of thoughts.

You hadn't told anyone about you relationship. It was all too new and you weren't ready to go down to HR just yet.

Part of you didn't believe it was real. Maybe you were waiting for something to go wrong. But it was so real. It was the realest thing you had ever felt.

"Oh you know... just work I guess" You half heartedly lied. Nat must've known something was up. She wouldn't suggest just hitting up a club, it wasn't her scene. She'd much rather catch up with you in a quite cafe.

"Mm-hm", she said clearly not believing you.

Maybe she planed to get you drunk to have you spilling your secrets.

The club was cramped with people. You could only get in because Nats name was on the list. One of the benefits of being an Avenger. The music was piercing your ears. You both managed to get drinks and grab a seat.

You tried to ask Nat to start dancing but she couldn't hear you over the loud music. You followed her gaze and saw suspicious looking men staring at you both from the vip lounge.

They were surrounded by big bodyguards and women. They looked like they were upto no good.

"Nat what's wrong?", you asked her getting more worried by the minute.

"I'm not sure. I think we should get out of here", you recognised the alarmed look on her face. You had seen it on Steve multiple times. Sometimes he would assess and analyze everything around him, look at all the exits, prepare for the worst. He wouldn't even let you sleep near his bedrooms door in case someone broke in at night, he'd want to protect you. He probably thought you didn't notice it but you did. You just chose not to acknowledge it not wanting to embarrass him.

"Ok", you agreed with her and tried to calm yourself. You both got up and ready to leave but were stopped by two huge guys.

"Black widow", one of them said and stared you both down. He had a sinister smirk on his face. "You made a huge mistake coming here", his threatening words were a huge contrast to his friendly tone and body language. "Follow us if you don't want to cause a scene"

"Actually I think we'll just leave", she retorted and held his gaze. You looked at the ground, not exactly sure what you were supposed to do.

"Please I insist. We wouldn't want to hurt these innocent people", he said nodding at his friends in the vip lounge.

"Alright", she smiled and leaned in to whisper in your ear "get out"

"Oh no no", he chuckled "she's coming with us"

"She's got nothing to do with you", you felt her getting stiff. You knew Nat was strong but even she couldn't take on so many men at once.

"She's not walking out of here either", he said. They both escorted you and Nat to a private room. You could barely see anything in the dim red light. There was a pole in middle of the room. You could see glitter and empty bottles everywhere.

You tapped your foot anxiously on the floor. Nat held your hand and gave you a small smile.

"It'll be okay, I promise", she whispered. You trusted her, you really did but how could either of you get out of this situation?

You saw some more men dressed in suits come on. One of them gave Nat a smile.

"Hey there Natalia remember me? You sent me to prison?"

"I don't remember every pest I crush", she snarked. Usually you were a fan of her snarky witty remarks, but now was really not the time or the place.

"Who's this?", he asked gesturing towards you. "Since when do you have friends?", you stared at an empty champagne bottle, to avoid his gaze, as if it was the most interesting thing you had ever seen. "Listen lady, Natalie is really not someone you would want to have as a friend. She'll stab you in your back without thinking twice."

You shut your eyes as hard as you could, wanting to be anywhere but here. "Hey", he scolds you using his gun to lift up your chin. "Look at me when I'm talking to you, will ya?"

"What do you want?" Nat asks desperately.

Tears start streaming down your face. You felt pathetic and small. How did you even get here?

Before you knew it all men in the room were shot down. You saw arrows sticking from their backs. That distracted the man holding a gum to your face. He turned around confused.

Nat kicked him in his shin and took the gun from him. Holding it to his head. "Guess who's going back to prison"

You sat there flabbergasted, not really processing what just happened around you.

"Hey there", you looked up and saw Clint with a few agents following him. "It's almost like you like getting in trouble."

"Thanks for that", she smiled at him " Hey you alright?", she asked you "I sent an sos to Clint. Not that I needed his help" to which Clint scoffed.

You nodded. "Good thinking"

"Steve's waiting outside for you. It took a lot of convincing to make him stay there", Clint said.

"What's Steve doing here?" Nat asked him. She wasn't even sure if you had ever met Steve.

"Oh you don't know", he giggled "she's his girlfriend! Sam owes me ten bucks. I knew he had a girl."

"Oh", she mused and looked at you her lips in a straight line pursed together.

"I'm sorry I should've told you", you smile at her sheepishly. "Can I go see him?"

***

You open the door and see him standing in the middle of the hallway. His hair disheveled, he was pressing his ear likely talking into the comms. The frown on his face sooths when he looks at you.

He starts walking towards you opening his arms. You run into them, grab his biceps and crash your lips onto his. Your teeth clash and hurt, it may not have been the most sophisticated reunion. You pull away a bit to look at him. He was smiling down at you. He looked exhausted, relieved and terrified all at the same time. You caress you cheeks and hold his face.

How could you have ever have mistrusted this man? He'd never hurt you, even if you didn't believe in anything else you had faith in him. You were more than willing to take this leap of trust, building a wall around your heart is no way to live. Especially when life is so short.

"I love you", you blurt and tears start flowing from your eyes " I've loved you since I met you. I was stupid to not say it before. I'm so sorry"

Steve wipes your tears and cradles your face. "Hey, it's ok. You said it now that's all that matters. I love you too" he says and you beam at him. "I just wish the first time you said it wasn't in front of Tony." he continues.

You look to your right and see Tony sitting on the sofa in the waiting area. Oh well, cats out of the bag now.

"Steve.. Tch tch" He starts shaking his head disapprovingly "you're stealing the nations youth. Craddle-robber"

Well you can't date Captain America without there being some teasing about it.

"Alright Tony" Steve says and smiles. You never liked how Tony was always so mean to Steve or how Steve never clapped back at him.

"Y/n, I thought you didn't like old men taking advantage of younger girls." He says with a shit eating grin on his face.

"Yeah well at least I have a boyfriend" You huffed and looked at Steve deciding to ignore him for now.

Maybe it was a petty to bring up Tony's myraid of commitment and intimacy issues but now that you're going to be official it was your duty to protect your man.

"We better get ourselves ready huh?" Steve asks still smiling. He couldn't bring himself to care about Tony he was just happy to have you in his arms. He decided he was never going to let you go.

[artsbysakurachan]

Yet Another Crazy Kuro Theory (This one's a real doozy!)

Sebastian's obsessed with cats because he's an alien...

QUIT YER BITCHING DEMON! DON'T MAKE ME PUT YOU IN THE BASEMENT AGAIN!! *muffled outraged demon noises* Sorry about that... Sebastian's an alien. No, really. What is an alien lifeform? It's a lifeform that is not indigenous to planet Earth. Demons aren't indigenous to Earth, they're (presumably) indigenous to the Hell Dimension which makes them, technically, aliens. So now that we've cleared that up, what does that have to do with Sebastian's cat obsession? Strap in cos we about to do some science! Do you own a cat? If so, look at your cat right now. Look at your cat and realise that this adorable little carpet shark is using manipulation and mind-control on you and that cats have doing this to humans for thousands of years. This is actual scientific fact.

A vast majority of cats carry a parasite called toxoplasma gondii, a parasite that makes mice really brave. Instead of being afraid of cats because of the whole apex predator thing, rodents infected with toxoplasma gondii will absolutely step to a cat. They'll get eaten but they'll go down fighting because the parasite controlling their tiny mice brains is telling them that they want to go out like they're in a Die Hard movie. #ThugLife When a cat eats an infected rodent, it too becomes a host to the toxoplasma parasite which it can then pass on to humans. In humans this parasite behaves a little differently, so don't worry it won't make you want to challenge a lion to a death match because it looked at you disrepectfully. However, it will make you less risk averse in general and it will make you like cats more than you did prior to infection. Not all humans are infected with the cat-loving brain worm however, which is why we still have dog-people even though dogs are clearly the inferior species >_> Like I said, cats have been doing this to humans for thousands of years. Of all the animals that humans have domesticated, the cat is the only one that serves no real purpose that wasn't already being taken care of by other domesticated species. We don't eat cats, we don't use them to hunt, we do use them for pest control (rats, mice, etc) but dogs can do the same job just as well if not better because they can eliminate larger pests that cats won't touch. We didn't domesticate cats, they domesticated US! And they've spent the last several thousand years convincing us that we're happy about it while treating us like dirt most of the time.

No shade though, I have three cats and I am happy with my life of mind-controlled servitude and my cats are not forcing me to type this sentence under duress. Also I do not have an angry demon locked in my basement so he can think about his attitude problem.

So, cats are our overlords and evolution has given them the perfect tool with which to continue their fluffy reign of terror. But, not every human is infected with this parasite and not every human is susceptible to it. Evolution likes to have an exit strategy in case of biological dumpster fires so there's always some kind of immunity floating around out there and even humans that aren't immune can still build up a tolerance for biological shenaniganary. But Sebastian's not human so he presumably has no such tolerance. Sidenote: This is probably why actual aliens don't come here, because our germs would kill them. And also because humans are terrible, just sayin' Because Sebastian's an alien with no tolerance to the cat-loving brain trojan, he probably became infected the first time he ever saw one of these fuzzy terminators running fades on the local bird population and now he's...a little obsessed. Not to mention that his "alien" physiology might cause the parasite to behave differently, turning him into the crazy cat-demon we all know and love.

[nalu4emily]

The Unexpected Reward - Chapter 8

Summary: Natsu and Lucy go on a job together, but what they bring home is something neither anticipated. Forced to make a life changing decision, they have to adapt quickly, but that's never easy, especially given the circumstances. As they work together on their toughest adventure yet, they find themselves drawn to one another, in ways they never realised. Nalu/cute/fluff/multi-chapter.

Lucy felt nauseous. She'd spent the better part of the morning worrying over whether Haru was okay and it was making her giddy. Gray and Juvia knew how to look after him, they'd been the one's to offer, yet she couldn't shake the worry that something might happen. What if he cried? Or became sick? Had she packed everything he needed? What if he got hurt? It was exhausting! She put her head into her hands to stop herself from hyperventilating. At this rate her head was going to explode.

The train was way too stuffy for her liking and it was making her feel faint. She'd opened the window as wide as it would go and greedily inhaled the cool air that filtered through. Hopefully, this journey would end soon, she wanted Natsu. He always calmed her down but he was currently out of commission, asleep on her lap after puking everywhere.

For once, he'd actually offered to get the train which had surprised Lucy at first, but she understood his reasons, and that's what made it all the more endearing. Natsu seemed to be maturing before her very eyes, choosing to get on the train, just to get this job done quicker, was only the start of it. Becoming a parent made you grow up, whether you wanted to or not, and Natsu was no exception.

It wasn't just with Haru he'd shown his maturity, it was with her as well. He'd kept to his word, every day since they'd shared their first kiss he'd showered her with affection, something she'd never expected from him. He didn't seem to be able to keep his hands to himself, which Lucy was totally fine with. But everything was still very safe and she had to wonder if he had any intention of taking it further, because she definitely did.

When the train finally came to a stop, Natsu was out of the door like a shot, hugging the grass beneath him, and he had the audacity to call her weird. "Are you done being an idiot?" She asked, looking down amused, with her hand on her hip.

"You don't understand how great this feels after being on that death trap!" He groaned, not taking any notice of the insult.

"Well, when you're finished we need to go check in somewhere and then we'll see this person about the job." Lucy said, holding out her hand to help him to his feet.

"Check in somewhere? Luce, I hate to tell ya but we don't have the money for that, it's why I brought an extra sleeping mat." He said, looking at her like she was the idiot now.

"What?! But I don't wanna sleep outside!" She cried out like a spoilt child.

"You're the one that wanted to stay at home for an extra two weeks, we had just enough money for the train tickets." He said, like it was obvious. It was true, Lucy had said it was because she wanted to wait for the right job, when in reality she just didn't want to leave Haru. "Don't worry though, I'll keep ya warm!" He smirked.

She blushed a little, "I guess that's a good enough compromise. I guess it'll be worth it because it pays so well!" The blonde exclaimed. Just before Natsu turned around, she pulled him to her, sporting a sly smile and yanked him down to her level. "Natsu, if you so much as look where you're not supposed to, I will do very bad things to you. Are we clear?" She said in her most sickly sweet voice. She brought her mouth to his for a soft, lingering kiss, as if to seal the deal. They needed every single Jewel that was being offered and Natsu had a habit of, well, destroying things.

"Yes, ma'am." He murmured, pulling away from her and grinning. Was it weird that he found Lucy threatening him kinda hot? He could get use to threats like that. The one's often made towards him, aka Erza's, weren't so alluring, more absolutely terrifying!

"Good! Now, let's see where we need to go." She let go of Natsu and reached into her bag, fishing out the request paper.

The job they had chosen seemed simple enough, it'd been the easiest request for the most amount of money on the board, meaning it shouldn't take too long. Mages were needed to rid a garden of pests that kept trying to steal some magical plants. It was safe, easy and good pay for not a lot of work. Lucy had been so pleased when she saw it, that she hadn't even run it by Natsu before presenting it to Mira.

"Apparently there's a mansion somewhere around here, it shouldn't be too hard to find." She said, taking Natsu's hand. Neither really knew where they were going but a mansion should be easy to spot, the area looked pretty small.

When they'd finally reached it, their mouths flew open at the sheer size of the estate, it looked like it went on for miles. Lucy felt a little nostalgic, it looked very similar to her childhood home, only much more grand. They walked up to the enormous doors and rang the bell, wondering what sort of person would live in such a huge place.

When the door finally opened, a young man had answered, probably in his late twenties, not much older than they were, he was suited and booted and looked quite important. Lucy assumed he must be some sort of business man, similar to her late father, they all looked the same. The man stepped out without saying a word and peered at the two, catching sight of their guild marks and smiled.

"You must be the Fairy Tail wizards I requested? Please do come in, my housekeeper will show you to the dining room where we can discuss everything. I'll be there in a minute." He gestured to an older woman, who they were meant to follow.

"Please follow me, Mr. Felix will be along shortly. He's a very busy man you see and has lots of clients to attend to." She said, smiling to Natsu and Lucy as they made their way down the huge corridors.

"Clients? What exactly does he do?" Lucy asked. Maybe he was famous for something?

"That'll all be discussed at dinner. Here's the dining room." The woman opened the door to reveal the biggest table either mage had ever seen, with a massive spread of food on top of it, making Natsu's mouth water. "We've laid out food for you, I imagine you must be famished after your long journey. Please help yourselves to as much as you'd like while you wait." The Housekeeper said before stepping back out of the door.

Just as Lucy was about to thank her, Natsu grabbed the blonde's hand and flew over to the table and started to dig in. "You're such an animal sometimes, Natsu." Lucy said as she watched him pour a whole plate of meat into his face. She never understood how he could eat so much, and where did he put all of it? The man was entirely muscle!

"We're broke so I'm stuffing myself silly!" He said as he chewed on god knows what. "Isn't that the white stuff you like, Luce?" He pointed to a pot filled with this thick, creamy substance.

Lucy chuckled at what he was pointing to and grabbed some 'white stuff' for herself, spooning it into her mouth. Yogurt, as it was more commonly known, was her absolute favourite. She plopped some fruit into it and dived right in until the entire pot was empty. Once they'd finished, the woman came in and tidied their plates away and in followed 'Mr. Felix' or whatever she said his name was.

"I do apologise, I had a client to see to, but I'm done now." He said as he sat down and poured himself a drink. "What do you call yourselves?"

"My name is Lucy and this is my partner, Natsu." She smiled. "Thank you for the food, it's very much appreciated!"

"You're welcome! My name is Felix and I'm a doctor. My husband and I specialise in medicinal magic and we grow specific plants that help in the healing of mages, like yourselves." He paused to take a sip of his drink.

"Awesome! We could use some of that with the amount Fairy tail gets into fights." Natsu joked, earning a deathly glare from Lucy, but the man chuckled at them.

"Yes, I've heard about Fairy Tail's reputation, but don't worry, you don't need to put on any airs and graces in front of me. I wouldn't have posted the job to your guild otherwise." Felix smiled at them both and watched them relax.

Natsu cleared his throat, and straightened himself up, "Er, so what's been going on then? What would you like us to do?" He asked as he stared at this Felix guy curiously.

"Well, it started about three weeks ago, my daughter was playing outside when she'd walked off towards the plant nursery. She's not really supposed to go in there but she's only young. Me and her Papa heard her scream and went running to see what'd happened. But when we got there she was huddled on the floor shaking and crying and the building had been ransacked."

"Poor thing, that must've been scary for her, did she see anything?" Lucy sympathised.

"We're certain she did, but when we ask she won't speak about it. It steals from us every night, regardless of how much we barricade the doors and windows, it manages to find a way in. I worry because without those plants we can't continue our work. I have many mages that rely on my help but our supply is dwindling." He looked down solemnly at the table, Lucy and Natsu could see that helping others meant a lot to him and they were more than willing to help him catch whatever it was reaping havoc on his livelihood.

"So you have no idea what's been stealing from you?" Natsu asked. Not that it really mattered, he'd burn it regardless.

"Unfortunately not, the only person that's seen it is my daughter, but it's too scary for her to talk about." Felix explained.

"Would it be possible for us to try and talk to her? With your permission of course." Lucy asked. If they could get the little girl to describe what she saw then they would be able to figure out a plan.

"You're more than welcome to try, but like I said she is only young so I'm not sure how accurate the details will be. I'll take you to her now, follow me." He said, standing and walking out of the door, with Natsu and Lucy following.

After what seemed like an endless maze of corridors, they entered into a children's play room. There, playing with her toys, was a sweet little girl, she couldn't have been much older than three or four. She looked over at Natsu and Lucy and giggled, bounding over with one of her toys to show it to them, taking a particular interest in Natsu and his crazy pink hair.

"Hey there kiddo. Whatcha got?" He said, plastering his signature grin on his face and crouching down in front of her.

"Amelia's teddy!" She beamed and gave it to him, while she ran back and retrieved another to give to Lucy.

Her father remained standing by the door as he watched his little girl play with Natsu and Lucy. They were trying to make her feel comfortable before they eventually asked her what she saw. Lucy had an idea of how to get the little girl to talk, it was all about compromise, but she just needed to time it right.

She picked up something that resembled a plant and showed it to the child, "Your Daddy grows special plants like this doesn't he?" Lucy asked. Amelia looked at the flower shaped toy before taking it into her own hand.

"Yeah! Daddy and Papa make magic people not sick any more." She smiled.

"Did you know that we're magic people? We've come to help your Papa and Daddy." Natsu whispered into her ear, like it was a big secret that only she was allowed to hear.

"You're magic?!" The little girl gasped, "Show me! Show me!" Amelia jumped up and down in pure joy, clapping her hands together.

Lucy chuckled at her enthusiasm and brought out the silver key to summon Plue, Amelia couldn't believe her eyes, she was in awe of the weird little, shaky thing. "Again, again!" She giggled, the bright smile never leaving her face.

"Alright then, watch this!" Natsu said, he laid his palm out and lit a small flame. He grinned as her mouth fell open in absolute amazement at Natsu's magic. Then, just for her, he turned the flame into a flower, then a star and then anything she requested, before lighting his entire hand up. "It's cool isn't it? You know I could set my whole body on fire, if I wanted."

"Wow, you must be really strong! Can you help Papa and Daddy with your magic?" she asked, still astonished by what just happened. "Amelia was in the nursery when the bad man took all the flowers. He saw her sneaking and said that she should never tell anyone or he'll get her when she's sleeping, but you can burn him with your fire."

Natsu and Lucy both looked at each other, concerned, and then back to where Felix was standing, who looked pretty shocked by what his daughter had just told them. How could someone be so cruel to a child? The two mages nodded at each other before looking back at Amelia, grinning at her, "Of course, we'll help them, you can count on us! I'll burn the bad man with my fire, then he'll be gone for good." Natsu said, watching her small face light up at his words, leaping up to give him a big hug, before returning to what she was playing with.

Natsu and Lucy stood up, waving at the little girl before leaving the room. They followed Felix back into a sitting room, settling on a couch opposite him. "Thank you for what you did there. She was refusing to talk to us but you managed it. You don't happen to have children yourselves?" Felix asked. Should he have asked that? Maybe it was too personal? About to apologise for the intrusion, but stopped as Lucy spoke up.

"Yes, we do actually. We have a son, this is our first time leaving him so it's been a little difficult, but it'll be nice to go home and see him when we're finished here." Lucy said quietly, smiling through glossy eyes as she thought about how much she missed her baby and how desperate she was to cuddle him. She wiped at her eyes quickly, "Sorry, I just miss him that's all." Natsu, feeling her discomfort reached over to take her hand, caressing it softly with his thumb.

"I understand, being a parent can be hard and you never really get use to it. In time, being separated from them gets easier but they'll always be on your mind. How old is your little one?" Felix asked, it was refreshing to speak to other parents for once.

"Four weeks now. We found him on a job at just a few days old, he'd been abandoned so we took him with us and then adopted him." Natsu said, pride emanating from his being. He rather liked telling people he was a dad now and best of all he loved talking about Haru, it made his heart feel full and all the more excited to go home to him.

"Wow, that's wonderful! It takes special people to do something so selfless, I'd say good luck to you both." Felix was in awe, what an incredible thing to do for a helpless baby, not everyone would be so kind. However, as much as he'd love to talk about their children all day, they had business to attend to. "Any way, what do you think now Amelia has spoken to you?"

"Well, it sounds like it's just one man. What I'm confused about is why this person is stealing those plants from you, unless they're a mage themselves or if they're not then they must be selling them?" Lucy pondered, it made perfect sense that someone would do that. They'd see this enormous house and think they could earn the same fortune by selling the plants for whatever price they wanted. "I think the only way to find out is to wait for him."

"I agree. Where are you staying tonight? I ask because the thief only seems to come when its dark out. We have a guest house next to the plant nursery and you're more than welcome to spend the night there, if that makes it easier for you? We can provide food and anything else you might need?" Felix offered, hoping they would accept so they could be there at the right time.

"You mean it? Hell yeah! That beats sleeping outside on the grass." Natsu cheered, that should cheer Lucy up.

"That would be amazing, thank you!" Lucy said, beaming over at Natsu.

Once they'd reached the guest house, it was already getting dark. Felix had told them that he would send some food over and would leave them to it. When both mages went inside, they couldn't believe their eyes. It was huge! Natsu was speechless, even their guest house was bigger than their home back in Magnolia.

Lucy instantly ran over and collapsed onto the bed, chucking her bags onto the table and sighed in relief. Natsu chuckled at her eagerness and walked over shortly after, crawling onto the bed, leaning above her so that their faces were level. He smirked down at her pretty face, "You didn't think I'd forgotten did you?" He said as he slowly came closer, watching her cheeks tint pink as he claimed her lips before she could say anything.

The kiss started off slow, but very quickly turned heated and needy. He'd been dying to get his hands on her all day and now it was just the two of them, he couldn't help the excitement build in his stomach. Lucy reached up and tangled her hands in his hair, pulling lightly, earning her a low growl from Natsu. The sound of his pleasure made her weak, there was something so animalistic about it. She wanted to hear it again and so forced her tongue into his mouth, whimpering into him from the hot wetness. What she'd give to feel that blazing tongue all over her sensitive skin, she could feel herself heat up at just the thought of it.

She loved that they did this now, it made her feel wanted and loved by him and that was an incredible feeling. Natsu was just so hot, it was hard to think straight once he got going. He pulled back and stared into her eyes with pure adoration, her swollen lips were always a feature he dwelled on, proud of himself for doing that to her. She brought her hand down to his neck and brushed over the scar there, making a shiver shoot through Natsu's spine.

"I don't think I'll ever get use to that." She said, reaching forwards and planting another soft peck on his lips.

"I'm certain you won't be saying that by the time we leave. Not with all this free time we have, just waiting around for some guy to show up." Natsu smirked, watching her face turn pinker then it already was as she bashfully looked away from him. She was too cute sometimes, how is it someone as sweet as Lucy could choose someone as hot-headed as him? He'd probably spend the rest of his life trying to figure that one out, but for now, being in her presence and receiving her undivided attention was enough for him.

"Are you just going to keep staring at me, Natsu?" She giggled, only stopping when his mouth attacked hers once more.

This time it was more intense and passionate, it was filled with so much raw emotion a simple kiss didn't seem to be enough any more, he wanted more and so did she. Just as he was about to reach down to her jaw, they heard a clatter and what sounded like glass shattering. It was apparent that even alone, something insisted on interrupting them and neither mage was impressed. Reluctantly stopping in his tracks, Natsu lifted his head and looked around for any intruders, sniffing at the air. His sensitive hearing picked up on footsteps coming from outside.

"I think our guy is outside." He said, leaning down and giving her one last kiss on the lips. "Come on, Luce. We'll have to finish this later." He smirked at her blush, then got up and ran over to the door, about to open it.

"Wait, Natsu! Don't just run into danger like that, we need to think of a plan, we don't know who our enemy is." She exclaimed, why did he insist on running head first into things all the time?

"Huh? Lucy, it's one guy! How hard can it be?" He didn't understand, what was the problem? It was simple; beat up bad guy, get paid then continue making out until they fell asleep. Job done.

Just as Lucy was about to retort, there was a huge explosion and even more shattering glass, then they noticed a faint glow of a flickering light coming in through the window. She bolted off of the bed and after Natsu, who'd already run outside, the entire plant house had been set ablaze. Lucy looked over and saw Felix running towards them, fear in his eyes as he gazed upon the devastation.

"It's on fire! What happened, is he here?!" He shouted at them as he came to a halt.

"Yes he is, but we'll find him, don't you worry." Lucy yelled over the crackling of the fire, pushing Felix away. "Stand back, Natsu will take care of the fire." and just like that, Natsu began to eat it, sucking it up until it had been put out completely, leaving just a charred shell of the building that was once there.

"Felix! Felix!" Someone yelled. They all turned to see another man, panic stricken, running over to them and clutching hold of Felix for dear life. "S-She's gone! Amelia is missing! She's not in her bed and I've looked everywhere but I can't find her. Oh god, what if he's taken her?!" He put his head against his husbands shoulder and began to tear up, while Felix looked at him in shock, dread settling in his stomach.

Natsu walked over, locking eyes with them both, "I promise we'll find her and bring her home to you." He then turned to Lucy, "He's nearby, I can smell him." He took her hand and they ran off in the direction in which the thief had gone.

They ran into a clearing that was surrounded by trees and bushes, the perfect place for an assailant to hide. Natsu came to a halt and let go of Lucy, sniffing at the air again. Lucy was quick to notice his unease as he whipped his head around to look for any movement.

"Is something wrong, Natsu?" Lucy asked, concerned at his serious expression.

He snapped his head to her, catching on to the worry in her voice and sighed, "The girl's with him, I can smell her too. But, it's his scent, I know it from somewhere." Natsu said quietly.

As she opened her mouth to reply, Lucy was suddenly dragged behind a large bush by Natsu. He covered her mouth with his hand and shushed her to keep quiet, whilst he listened to the footsteps that were quickly approaching. Natsu wouldn't usually hide, but that smell was throwing him off, he needed to know who it was first. He cautiously peered around the edge of the bush at the man who's face had been hidden by a hood. Whoever it was had tattered clothes and looked in need of a good bath.

"I know you're here, Fairy Tail, I've been watching you." The man provoked, trying to lure them out.

Natsu, about to jump out the second he mentioned the guild, was pulled back down by Lucy, who shook her head at him. Huffing in annoyance, he remained seated, for now. It was obvious the man didn't know where they were hiding, so for the time being they had the advantage.

"I saw you both get off the train earlier and so I followed you. What are the odds we should stumble across each other again? Have you come to ruin my life further?" He snarled. Natsu was watching him through the shrubbery, he still couldn't get a good look of his face and that voice, where had he heard it before? Who the hell was this guy?

"Come out and face me you cowards! Or I'll hurt the little girl, you wouldn't want that now, would you?" The man threatened, looking around for the two mages to appear from the trees, but neither did. "Very well, what do you think would happen if I... cut off a few of her fingers? How loud do you think she'd scream? Would you come out then?" He laughed maniacally like all of this was some sick joke to him.

Natsu and Lucy both looked at each other in disbelief, surely he was bluffing? Lucy felt bile come up into her throat, what a disgusting thing to threaten! Luckily, Natsu couldn't see the little girl with him, she was nearby though. He could hear her whimpering and could only hope that she was unharmed.

"No? Fine. Then what about… that little baby of yours? How loud would he scream?" About to laugh again, but was stopped abruptly as he felt himself being choked and lifted off of the ground by a very strong grip around his collar. Yet he still managed to smirk as he stared into the piercing eyes of a very pissed off dragon slayer.

"How do you know my son?!" Natsu bellowed, watching the man begin to struggle against his hold. In his attempt to free himself, the hood finally fell down from the guys head, revealing his face.

"How, indeed…" The man chuckled, his voice strained.

Taken aback, Natsu's eyes were like saucers as he stared into the eyes of none other than Haru's biological father. "It's you!" Natsu exclaimed, his grip tightening around the still smirking man's clothes, his anger returning tenfold. "Start talking! What're you doing here?!" He brought his other fist up and set it alight, this man would pay for what he'd threatened, but first, Natsu needed answers. "Speak! Or I swear I'll scorch that fucking smile right off your face!"

Lucy had taken it upon herself to retrieve the little girl while Natsu dealt with the aggressor. She was absolutely horrified by what he'd said, so much so it was hard to think straight, but she had to remind herself that no matter what, this was one man and Haru was safe at home. Gray and Juvia were powerful mages, they would protect him if anything were to happen.

Once she'd found the poor little thing, Lucy quickly checked her over to make sure she wasn't hurt. Amelia recognised the blonde instantly and jumped into her arms, clinging on for dear life. Lucy tried to calm her down, but it was so heart breaking to see. She began to walk back to where Natsu was, stroking the little girls back as she wept into Lucy's shoulder.

She felt such empathy for the girl, maybe it was because she was now a mother herself, but seeing her in such distress held a lot more meaning then it once did. She could only imagine how Felix and his husband must be feeling, not knowing if their daughter was safe or whether she'd even return home, it must be utterly heart wrenching.

Once she'd reached the clearing, her eyes nearly shot out of her skull, her knees felt like they were about to buckle as she laid eyes upon the man that Natsu's fist was about to make contact with. He yelped out in pain and collapsed onto the ground, clutching at his painful, bloodied nose. Out of all the people it could have been, it had to be him, the man that'd knowingly left Haru to burn in that fire, the man that she never wanted to see or think about again.

Natsu looked over to Lucy, relieved to see that she'd found Amelia, but winced at the clear agony in her eyes from just being in this man's presence again. It must've brought back all of those dreaded worries and memories that she'd tried so hard to get over.

"Lucy, leave him to me, I've got this. Concentrate on Amelia, she needs you right now." Natsu said, trying to reassure her. Caring for the girl was a good distraction and that's exactly what Lucy needed.

Lucy nodded at him, but her eyes were glued to the groaning man on the floor. Her body had frozen in place and she couldn't get rid of the sick feeling in her stomach. She needed to collect herself, Natsu was right, Amelia needed the comfort of an adult, she'd been taken from her bed by the 'bad man' and that must have been so frightening for her. She stayed behind Natsu and sat down on a log, holding the little girl close, soothing her until she calmed down.

"How touching… So, how is the runt doing? Still alive I hear? Unlike my wife you failed to save." He spat the last bit, with blood pouring out from his nose as he looked up to Natsu.

"That's what this is about? You've got some nerve, the baby is none of your concern any more." Natsu sneered, what a pathetic excuse of a man, he was just about ready to singe every last hair on this weasel's body. "You left him to die, what kind of sick bastard does that to his own child?"

"That puny rat was good for nothing, he built a rift between me and my wife yet all he did was make her suffer. It was one complication after another, but I wanted to believe that by supporting her, everything would turn out alright. But it was made clear to me when she gave birth to such a feeble and weak baby, that I could never love it. He was so sickly and small, no son of mine would be so pathetic! But she chose the baby over me, so I walked away." He snarled, only resentment and bitterness with every word he spoke with no sign of compassion for the little one.

"Be quiet! I don't want to hear any more! How can you say such things? He just needed some extra attention which is exactly what we've given to him, because he deserves to be loved." Lucy shook her head in disbelief, as she listened to the man laugh at her words. What was he saying? She felt like crying but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction, not in front of him any way. Taking in a deep breath, she continued, "If you were so appalled by your own child, then why're you kidnapping other peoples? Why are you here?"

"My home was destroyed, remember? I had to get by somehow and those magic flowers I stole sold for a good amount of money, but I wanted more so I thought I'd kidnap the girl and hold her ransom. But you two have ruined my plans again." He said, slowly realising his mistake as he stared into the eyes of a very outraged and riled up Natsu. He felt all of his confidence leave him, he no longer had the little girl as leverage and no way out of the sticky situation he'd gotten himself into.

"Enough talking, I've heard enough of your crap!" Natsu shouted, "I should've done this the first time we met!"

He was struggling to comprehend how such an asshole like this guy, could produce something as sweet and good natured as Haru. It really brought home how glad he was that they'd found the baby when they did, because otherwise… well, it didn't matter now, this man was going to pay for everything.

The man instantly started cowering, reminiscent of his first meeting with Natsu. Suddenly all of his bravado from earlier had gone as Natsu stormed towards him, setting his entire body on fire. Lucy couldn't help but smile at how fiercely protective he was over their family, she felt her earlier fear fade, there was never anything to worry about.

Lucy tapped little Amelia on the shoulder to show her what Natsu had said he'd do earlier that day. Her eyes were wide with amazement, as Natsu used his magic to burn every last inch of the pathetic man until he was no longer conscious, tying him to a tree so the council could come and collect him.

"Wow, Natsu! You really did set that man on fire!" Amelia squealed from Lucy's arms, making the blonde giggle.

"I told ya I would and now the bad man will never come back." He grinned from ear to ear at her, ruffling her hair. "We should get you home, I bet your Papa and Daddy are worried about you?"

He looked to Lucy who smiled at him but he could still see the hurt in her expression, this was a totally unexpected turn of events and she would need time to run it through her head. He took her hand and they walked back to the mansion, breathing in the brisk air to cool themselves off. All of them needed a warm bed and a good nights sleep, they were exhausted both physically and mentally. However, now with the job completed, they could get paid and return home to Haru, and that was worth every single hardship they faced.

Amelia spotted both of her fathers and smiled excitedly at them, once being put down on the ground, she ran as fast as she could and flew into their arms, never wanting to let go. Natsu and Lucy watched as the little family were reunited and it was incredibly heart warming.

"Thank you so much for everything you've done! There isn't enough on this planet we could give to thank you for returning Amelia to us." Felix's husband said to them, unable to control the happy tears that slid down his face.

"Hey, don't worry about it, she's one brave little girl. The thief has been taken care of as well." Natsu said, pride emanating from him for being the one that defeated him. Although, he was a little disappointed that he'd not been a mage, all that talk and no substance. That was usually the case with people that wanted to take him on, even when they were mages, they very rarely stood a chance.

"I have your reward here actually, I wanted to give it to you now as a thank you." Felix said, passing the huge bag of money to Natsu.

"Whoa, you sure you counted this correctly? Seems a bit heavy!" Lucy rolled her eyes, typical Natsu and his blabber mouth!

"I doubled it, that's why it's heavier. You've been so kind to us all and you even befriended Amelia who I'm sure is going to be talking about you two for a very long time. She's going to miss you both dearly." Felix looked over to where his husband was standing with little Amelia in his arms, smiling and laughing. "You two have gone beyond what either of us expected and above everything you kept our daughter safe, for which I could never repay you for."

Now Lucy felt bad, he'd been so generous since their arrival that she didn't feel deserving of the extra money, but it would come in handy with Haru, that's for sure. "That's very sweet of you, but are you sure? You were offering a large amount as it is and now that your business is going down are you sure you want to double it?" Lucy asked.

"Don't worry about that, we'll get by. Family is more important, right?" Felix smiled at them before bidding them good night.

Natsu and Lucy returned to the guest house, smiles on both of their faces at the extra money. Now they wouldn't have to work for a while and would have all that free time at home with Haru, to watch him grow.

Lucy collapsed onto the couch by the window and sighed, today had been a mind fuck and that was putting it lightly. Natsu grabbed a water cannister from his bag and walked over to sit on the edge of the bed opposite her, not sure if she wanted to talk or be left alone to think. He took a few large gulps of liquid before chucking it to her, hoping it would refresh her somewhat. After what seemed like hours of staring into the abyss, she finally spoke up.

"I'm sorry I wasn't much help back there, when I saw who it was, I froze. I don't know what came over me." Lucy said, staring into her lap and avoiding Natsu's gaze.

"But you saved the girl, and you made sure she was okay, that's still helping Luce. Seeing that guy threw me off as well, I definitely wasn't expecting to see him." Natsu said, he understood how she felt, it was a shock, for sure.

"Is that really what jealousy and grief does? We've met some pretty awful people but there has always been some sort of reason behind their actions, but I'm struggling to understand his reasoning for despising his own child so much." Lucy finally looked up to Natsu, he looked so serious, this wasn't like him at all, it was probably troubling him just as much.

"There is no reason, Luce. We've all been through grief, he's obviously a very sick and twisted person, but in the end, he's the one missing out, not us. While he's lost everything, we've gained our little boy. Haru's what made us a family and that's something I'll be forever thankful for." Natsu said, he realised then just how much he truly missed his son. As nice as it was to go on a job again, he was ready to go home and he could see Lucy was too.

"I miss him too, Natsu." Lucy said quietly, smiling at him. He didn't even need to tell her what he was thinking, she already knew.

Natsu moved himself to sit next to her. Reaching out, he cupped the sides of her face in his hands with the most delicate touch, like she was some fragile piece of porcelain and gave her a half smile. She always wore her heart on her sleeve and tried to see things through the eyes of others, and he could tell it was affecting her that she couldn't do that this time, not with what that guy had done. But he admired her for it just the same, it was a quality she'd always possessed, one that'd attracted him to her in the first place.

He pulled her face in, grinning as his nose brushed ever so lightly against hers, "We have some unfinished business to attend to, Lucy." He wanted her so badly, especially after what'd happened, he didn't think he could wait much longer.

She looked deep into his stunning green eyes and smiled back, allowing him to capture her lips in a slow, passionate kiss. Instantly, they both felt every negative emotion slowly leave their bodies and were left with the tingling sensation on their lips, where their mouths merged together in a fluid motion over and over again.

He hoisted her up and carried her over to the bed, lifting the covers and placing her gently down on the soft sheets, never breaking contact. He climbed on top of her and continued to assault her mouth with his, sucking lightly on her bottom lip. Natsu wanted to venture further, to explore places he hadn't been yet. Breaking off from her lips, he made his way, ever so attentively, up her jaw, down to her ear and onto her neck, leaving wet, open-mouthed kisses in his wake.

She felt like she was in heaven, as he greedily swallowed each and every sound she made. Hearing her gasp and moan as he savoured her sensitive skin, made him want to just take her and throw caution to the wind, but he had more self-control then that, that day would come eventually. If this was how she reacted with just a bit of heavy petting, then god knows how she'd feel if he went any further.

But tonight wasn't that night, he didn't want to push it too far and so kept all activity above the collar bone and so did she. They continued like this for who knows how long before eventually breaking away and falling asleep. Lucy was nicely snuggled up to Natsu, relishing in his warmth and he was sprawled out, taking full advantage of the enormous bed.

Both of their lips had been thoroughly used and abused and their skin looked red and swollen. She was definitely going to have marks in the morning, but it didn't matter because she'd given as good as she'd got, so with any luck, Natsu would too and she couldn't wait to see his reaction at her handy work.

Hi guys, I hope you enjoyed, even if it was a bit darker, but they finally completed their first job away from the baby. There are a few things from this chapter that haven't been answered, which will be explained in the next chapter, it would be way too long otherwise. Thank you for reading!

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

Nothing if not an opportunist (Fraxus)

Short summary: Freed gets kidnapped and Laxus picks his ass up, bc being together is what nice boyfriends do uwu

Intro: 

A more than agreeable way to start one's morning would be with a nice cup of coffee and some baked goods of choice. Should the weather be pleasant, this delightful breakfast could've been taken in his garden. The flowerfilled wonder would look and smell heavenly in the soft light of the morning sun. But alas, hypotheticals are merely that and Freed is having a far less enjoyable morning so far.

Rest of the fic under the cut!

It goes without question that a group of people ambushing you on your way home is far from ideal. It only gets worse when they decide to tie you up with magic-blocking handcuffs right after that and throw you in the back of some dinky carriage. Rude.

With a sigh, Freed repositions himself, trying to find a posture that doesn't cut off his blood circulation. Thanks to an ungodly amount of yoga sessions with Bickslow, he quickly achieves his goal but it's still a far cry from his cozy couch. Inspecting the space, he tuts in disapproval. No cushions, no blankets, not even a beanbag. They should really level up their accommodations if they wanted to avoid the wrath of their temporary guests. A shame they didn't keep that in mind, but Freed sure as hell will.

While he's debating what exactly the awful stench invading his nostrils is, he catches the men in the front talking about a certain topic that catches his attention. His ransom note. Briefly, he mentally deducts some points from them for not putting silencing runes in place.

As the men talk in a not at all hushed tone of voice, it quickly becomes clear that there's no interest in him personally. It's Laxus they're after. A bit predictable and consequently, a bit boring. He mentally deducts a few more points. If they keep this up, they'll end up becoming the worst team that kidnapped him in the shortest amount of time.

Because he considers himself a graceful man, raised right as well as raised to be a bastard, he puts his face between the bars separating him and his kidnappers. "Good day gentlemen," he starts politely and in return, one of them spits in his face. Disappointing. He'll keep it in mind. Outwardly unperturbed, he continues. "I have been listening to your attempts at writing a threatening ransom note for the past half hour and quite frankly, I am not at all impressed. Please try to be at least intelligible, we wouldn't want them to get wrong impressions right?"

"Shut up, I'll torture and kill you", one of them growls and Freed nods enthusiastically. "That's it! Clear and to the point. Now please describe exactly how you'll do it and I'll rephrase it for you. I want my ransom note to be up to my standards. I expect both eloquence and elegance. Maybe even a hint of cheekiness if we're feeling up to it." As the man starts a litany of threats and curses, Freed carefully paraphrases everything, which only heats the man up more. As he gets his enjoyment out of harassing the man, he catches his accomplice writing down his more concrete, paraphrased version of the threats.

Although he missed out on a nice, peaceful morning he can't say that he isn't enjoying himself right now. Being a pest is an artform he's fully mastered.

Laxus hasn't seen Freed all day and to be honest, he hadn't really been worried. That is until he's sipping on a beer while Bickslow and Evergreen are making themselves a tad bit too comfortable on his couch. They had thrown him off and are currently engaged in a fight for the sole rights to the leather-worn throne. Seeing how vicious the fight is turning, he's glad that he had already been eliminated from the fight.

A letter is shoved underneath his door and although Laxus is lightning fast, he's unable to catch even a glimpse of the mailman. "A secret love letter!" Bickslow exclaims from his place on the floor and Evergreen rolls her eyes in response. "If that was a love letter, I'd throw it in the trash. Look at the shoddy thing!"

She's right, Laxus realises. The letter looks awful, crumpled and stained with what seems to be blood. Worry increasing, he opens it up and quickly scans the content of the text. His concern reaches a peak when he spots the long lock of green hair attached to the letter and as he holds it up, Evergreen and Bickslow hiss in unison. "Our baby got kidnapped again, didn't he?" Bickslow asks and Laxus nods.

"They've included an address and say I should come weaponless and with magic-blocking cuffs already on. They say they have to settle a score with me and if I don't come within the next 48 hours they'll kill him. With every hour the torture also increases."

Bickslow whistles between his teeth. "Guess ya gotta go huh?" Evergreen frowns. "Do you even have magic blocking cuffs?" she asks and he points at the ceiling. "In my bedroom", he says and while Bickslow cackles, Evergreen's frown only gets deeper. "Why are there magic-blocking handcuffs in your bedroom...?" When Laxus returns with the green, fluffy cuffs, Evergreens' disappointment is palpable. "They've got little lightning bolts on them!" he tries to defend himself and it sounds ridiculous to his own ears.

Trying to desperately change the subject, he asks if they want to come along on the rescue mission. The answer's a firm no. "The aftermath of these situations are never pretty", Evergreen whispers, eyes clouded with a distant emotion. "I don't want to see the violence, the effects of hopelessness", Bickslow adds, swallowing dryly. Laxus understands their sentiment better than anyone. "Then I'll be bringing him back", he promises, although he knows he doesn't have to. They know he does it every time without fail.

Laxus arrives at the castle at twilight, light and dark intertwining as he enters the too quiet place. Normally castles of this size should be alive, the hum of the hustling and bustling of servants forming the core of it's sound. Although he can hear people scurrying about far away, there's still the lingering feeling that it is way too quiet. It's as though the castle is awaiting his arrival with baited breath.

Upon entering the hall, he's greeted by a quivering maid. Unable to look him in the eyes, she asks: "Master Dreyar, I presume?" while directing her gaze at the floor. "Take me where I need to be." He doesn't mean to be so brusque, but he has no time to spare for useless pleasantries.

She quickly guides him to the main room and even before he enters it, he knows that the room will be a show of absolute opulence, meant to intimidate him from the get go. As soon as he enters, his suspicions are confirmed.

The ceiling is as high as the ceiling of most gothic churches and the candles lighting up the room are a mere few. Nevertheless, every grim decoration in the rooms is properly lit. The decorative skulls, the chains, everything is immersed in the same eerie glow. In this faint light, Laxus can make out the servants stationed at the sides of the carpet leading to the throne. Behind them, there are scratches on the walls, destroyed tables and what seems to be... bits and bops of human beings. It's like an Ikea set of human remains.

A cough draws his attention to the throne. The glow of the lights reflects of the crown of the man sitting on it. The light also bounces off the bejeweled cape draped across his shoulders and Laxus can't help but stare. Perched on the throne like a lazy cat who has very much made a place formerly belonging to someone else is his own, is Freed Justine. "Hello Laxus, I was wondering when you'd show up. Did you like my letter?"

As Freed slinks of the throne and walks towards him, with every piece of jewelry that comes to light as he draws closer, jingling softly. The sound matches Freed's natural sound well and the lavish jewelry take his already handsome looks to another level. That and the horns accentuating the crown, the little tinge of red left on his too sharp teeth as well as the glow in his usually hidden eye.

He's not surprised at this situation in the slightest, as this is how Freed's kidnappings usually go. The man is simply too charming, too cunning and too powerful to be contained by a few simple bandits. The only reason Laxus comes to pick him up, is because he knows Freed enjoys being walked home. It's the simple things, like this form of domesticity, that makes their relationship so enjoyable.

"I asked the servants to prepare us a meal before we set off? Would you join me Mister Dreyar?" he asks teasingly. "It is our date night after all." With a smile he agrees. "It is, this is very considerate of you." Freed gives him a chuckle and a wink in return. "I'm nothing if not an opportunist." They toast to that later on.

Once back at the guild, Makarov flags them down, concern evident on his face. "You've got to take better care of him", he hisses at Laxus and before Laxus can tell him that he really doesn't have to, Freed smoothly cuts in. "Please don't worry about it master, he already does such a splendid job of saving me every time. A man can't ask for more than a splendid hero, right?"

Although it's a lie totally dicrediting Freed's own skill, Laxus doesn't correct him, even though he wants to. He knows Freed by now, knows that every lie, every piece of omitted information is probably part of a scheme of a sly mind that never stops working. He knows that the image of a mage depending on Laxus makes him a walking target and Laxus knows that the man enjoys nothing more than a good fight. Maybe there's more to it than Freed's hobby of beating up people, maybe there isn't. Either way, Laxus loves watching Freed's plans unfold, even if it means that he has to hold his tongue sometimes.

[zenonaa]

Fandom: Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Fukawa Touko/Togami Byakuya Characters: Fukawa Touko, Togami Byakuya Additional Tags: plus the rest of the cast post chapter 3, togafukaweek2020 Series: Part 1 of TogaFuka Week 2020

Comments: Day 1 for TogaFuka Week! I tried to hit both prompts with this (Pining and Enclosed Spaces). Enjoy! :-)

***

‘Stir-crazy’ is an informal term referring to when a person becomes restless or distraught due to prolonged confinement or routine. For example, to use the term in a sentence, ‘being trapped in Hope’s Peak made several students go stir-crazy’.

Alternatively, ‘Celes went stir-crazy because she couldn’t stand having the same routine every day, so she orchestrated the murders of two of her classmates’.

And, for a final example, ‘Byakuya was absolutely not going stir-crazy, but that would explain some thoughts he began to have’.

After the third trial, the fourth floor of the school opened up, which one would have thought would help. Maybe not the classrooms, not without actual lessons going on, but the chemistry lab proved a little more interesting, offering vitamins to make one healthy and chemicals to make one dead. Potted flowers sat on desks in the faculty room where computers used to be - Monobear once quipped ‘plants are way better examples of how to grow up than computers’ - and the music room housed a stage, a piano and other instruments Byakuya knew how to play.

Makoto even found a strange photograph of three of their deceased friends messing about with a camera. Yet, those pieces of excitement didn’t stop the strange, intrusive thoughts scratching at the walls of Byakuya’s mind.

In the faculty room, Byakuya rubbed a silky petal of a sunflower between his thumb and forefinger, a shadow carved into his brow in thought. The flowers seemed out of place. No, they were out of place, and not just because of their location. No matter how many times he came here, they didn’t blend into their grey surroundings. They stood out. Seemed perky. Bright. Healthy.

Did they regularly get exposed to sunlight...?

He released the petal. Within seconds, a chill pattered down his neck. When he turned around, a solitary figure in the doorway confronted his view. His lips pursed.

“Fukawa,” he acknowledged in monotone.

By now, he had become accustomed to her following him like his shadow, to the point where he thought he could sense her whenever she lurked nearby. Touko jolted and stood to attention. The blank look in her eyes cleared, an invisible hand smearing away the condensation in her clouded gaze.

“Y-Yes, Byakuya-sama?” she said, licking her lips and prompting him to grimace. She had been drooling.

His mouth remained condensed as he watched Touko’s tongue sweep over her lips, lips that caressed each other, and when she gulped, sheening saliva, a weight in his gut was knocked out of place, like the lights in a dark room suddenly flicked on.

When they first became acquainted with each other, he nearly always sent Touko on her way after exchanging only a few sentences, but more recently, Byakuya permitted Touko to be in his presence for greater lengths of time, so long as she was on standby in case he wanted something, or at least didn’t disturb him too much. They even had sane conversations sometimes. Interesting ones, in fact. Byakuya even let her feed him candy once at his bedside while he read.

However, that had been then, and even more recently than that, just her existence crept onto his nerves. Inevitable, what with them all having to spend so much time around each other. Inevitable, what with her doing things like this in front of him.

Like now, that stupid grin of hers had returned to her face, and he had to clench his fists to distract heat away from his face. He adjusted his glasses. Stuck up his chin. Pushed his shoulders back.

“Instead of loitering, why don’t you make yourself useful?” he asked her in an authoritative tone. She stirred.

“Use... ful?” repeated Touko, still partly submerged in whatever thoughts had her entranced.

“Yes, the word, not a random noise that sounds like it,” he said. He placed one hand on his hip and slightly jutted out his hips to that side. “There might be something lying around the school that could prove beneficial to me. Who knows, maybe you’ll prove yourself useful.”

For many, his remark would have got under the recipient’s skin, or pierced them in the eye and caused it to twitch, but Touko nodded and clasped her hands together. Her twitching didn’t stem from annoyance. Something quite the opposite.

“Of course!” she said, and her lips stretched out to create a nauseating-sized crescent. She cupped her cheeks with both hands. “I won’t disappoint you. I’ll prove I’m not a piece of coal, but a diamond in the rough. I’ll-”

As she spoke, her lips sprung from one extreme to another, from wide like the wingspan of a bird of prey to puckered together like a rose and back again, and Byakuya felt motion sick just watching her. Like he was losing his balance, like the ground would slip from underneath him and he might lean forward, fall into her, land his hands on her shoulders, land his chest against hers and land his mouth on her chapped pink petals of lips, even though he was standing very, very still.

Suddenly, one of his feet lurched forward, but he stopped himself from overbalancing. Something akin to pain shot up that leg to his chest. He tore his eyes off her writhing mouth and glared. Apparently, she hadn’t noticed the flicker in his demeanour, continuing to gush at him.

“Today, preferably!” he demanded, with a slight crack halfway through that he hoped she wouldn’t notice.

Touko squawked, and after a bow, she sped out of the room. Byakuya strode over to the door. He could no longer see her, and as he shut it, he let out a breath he hadn’t realised he had been holding.

Honestly, that girl was a pest. Creeping on his nerves like that...

The next time he saw Touko in the cafeteria at dinnertime. For a while, he had avoided joining the other students to eat, and though he ate with them more regularly now, he didn’t do so because he felt any sense of camaraderie with them, but so he could check on the remaining competition.

Sakura wasn’t in the cafeteria, to his approval. Monobear had recently outed her as his mole, and Byakuya had no interest in spending time around her. Whenever he was outside of his room, he had to keep checking the map on his Electronic Student ID Card to make sure she wasn’t too close by.

Aoi, Sakura’s close friend, was in the cafeteria though, and when Byakuya entered, she glared but said nothing. He needed to monitor her too, someone so easily swayed by emotion, but with the others present, she couldn’t do anything he needed to worry about. Makoto and Kyouko offered glances at him that he rebuffed, Yasuhiro chirped his name, which he ignored, and the gloomy cloud over Touko’s face parted as her smile beamed through.

Byakuya didn’t greet any of them, obtaining his dinner from the kitchen and walking straight back into the cafeteria where he seated himself at a neighbouring table to the others.

“Togami-chi!” Yasuhiro called out, even though they weren’t that far apart. “Back me up here.”

When Byakuya just continued to frown, Makoto spoke instead, raising a crooked finger.

“Hagakure-kun, I don’t think your idea will work. You’re more likely to harm yourself than corrode through anything.”

“Yeah,” went Aoi, her brows knitted together. “Why would Monobear leave us chemicals that can help us escape?”

“Because he doesn’t know the makeup of certain corrosives,” replied Yasuhiro, flapping his hand. “The mastermind probably thinks it’s not possible, ‘right? But if we get the right chemicals, we can melt through the plates covering the windows and escape.”

Touko glowered. “If you really believed that, why haven’t you already done it?”

Byakuya’s attention drifted over to Touko. Her eyes were narrowed, but he could still catch their colour - grey, tinged with violet. As she gestured with her hands, her head bobbed about, and light bounced off the lenses of her glasses, sometimes hiding her eyes from view for a moment. For such a mopey girl, she sure could flaunt a range of expressions in such a small amount of time. Then there were the times she didn’t mope. When she was with Byakuya. Those smiles. Those blushes. Those laughs, like nails down a chalkboard.

“Anyway, I looked at the contents myself,” said Touko. She wrinkled her nose. “There are supplements and poisons, none that can damage thick sheets of metal. Of course, you’re entitled to try...”

“Aw, thanks, Fukawa-chi!” said Yasuhiro brightly. Aoi growled, but it sounded a lot like a whine.

“Don’t thank her!” Aoi scolded. She angled herself toward Touko, looking annoyed. “As usual, Fukawa-chan, you’re being a big downer. At least Hagakure’s trying to help.”

Yasuhiro’s grin wavered. He hesitated. “... Um... Am I supposed to thank you, Asahina-chi?”

Touko snorted.

“Thank you?” Touko repeated with scorn.

“Wait, you’re thanking me now? Okay, I’m officially confused,” mumbled Yasuhiro, scratching his head.

“Hagakure wants praise for having this idea but doesn’t have the balls to try it,” she explained. She rolled her eyes and shifted her weight on her chair. “In fact, could it be he’s discussing it here where there are surveillance cameras because he desperately wants Monobear to overhear and stop it? Then he can think to himself, ‘my idea would have worked’ and no one would be able to dispute it.”

Everyone considered what she suggested. Touko finished up her rant by shooting a chilly look at Yasuhiro, who cowered.

Kyouko inclined her head, resting her chin in her hand. “I’ve also browsed the stock in the chemistry lab and though I’m not a scientist, I don’t think there is anything that can help us there. If anything, Monobear would want us to try for its own amusement.”

Up to this point, Byakuya had stayed out of the conversation, but now he turned his gaze to Kyouko.

“You say that, but none of us know what you are,” he said. No one knew her title. For all they knew, she could have been another mole. Kyouko glanced at him and gave a vague shrug.

After that, the conversation seemed to draw to a close. Yasuhiro pouted and resumed eating, deflated. The rest of the group followed suit. Touko huffed, and Byakuya’s eyes drifted back over to her again. She picked up her chopsticks but rather than pick at any of the rice, she twitched them in her grip, staring into space. Byakuya, holding his own chopsticks, pinched a tofu block, but he didn’t eat it, hovering it in front of his mouth while his other hand propped up his cheek. Instead of eating it, he surveyed Touko’s features. Rather than investigate what she might have been looking at for himself, he tried to figure out what she was stewing over by looking at her.

Not out of concern, of course. Curiosity. And he had a good reason for it. When he first met Touko, he dismissed her as a stuttering high school girl with a persecution complex, who wrote frivolous romance novels that many people lapped up. But there was more to her. She had an alter called Genocider Syo, who murdered various men without getting caught, but even then there was more. Much more. Despite her strange ramblings, Touko was intelligent and could even be insightful, and he had to admit she had to have talent - her novels could and did make society fall in love with fishermen, for one thing. Not everyone could create a trend like that with written words.

“Togami-chi?” said Yasuhiro.

Touko picked up a piece of tofu with her chopsticks, popped it between her lips, and returned her chopsticks to her bowl. Today, dinner was mapo tofu, a simple dish to make that could be served in one bowl. She chewed, unfocused. The sight wasn’t a pleasant one - he reasoned that was why his stomach knotted the more he studied Touko. Her lips rubbed together, her cheeks bulged and caved in at intervals, and she didn’t always close her mouth completely.

“Togami-kun?” said Makoto.

It was a disgusting sight. Disgusting, from her mole to her fluttering lashes around her grey eyes, to the grain of rice abandoned next to her lips, to -

“Togami-kun?” said Makoto again, and this time, Byakuya tensed. He looked around.

Everyone else in the cafeteria stared at him, includingTouko.

“What?” said Byakuya. 

Yasuhiro draped his hand across the back of his neck.

“I think you zoned out there,” remarked Yasuhiro with a lop-sided smile as he scratched at his neck. “We were asking if you’ve been through the chemistry lab yet.”

“Is something on your mind?” Kyouko chimed in, flashing a smirk.

Heat rose to Byakuya’s face. He gritted his teeth, told them he was trying to tune out their idiocy, and resumed his dinner, contributing no more to any conversation.

Though Byakuya had Sakura and to a lesser extent Aoi to be aware of, if he hid in his room all the time, they would think they scared him and consider him an easy target. If he showed them he wasn’t afraid, then they would be wary that he was prepared for an attack.

In theory.

Byakuya planned to spend the rest of the evening in the library, but first, he took a cold shower to rejuvenate himself after getting so distracted during dinner. When he arrived at the library, he saw Touko at one of the desks. Both were avid readers, so her presence didn’t surprise him, but he paused for a few seconds.

She seemed not to have noticed him, focused on the notebook she was writing fervently in. He shut the door quietly behind himself and walked over to a bookcase, careful of his footfalls, and soon found the book he had started on his last visit, the back half of the dust jacket tucked between the pages to mark where he had last read up to. Taking it off the shelf, he seated himself at a different table where Touko lay just outside his field of vision.

However, even though he positioned himself to hide her from his view, that didn’t mean he couldn’t hear her.

One would think Touko of all people would know how to behave in a library, but she mumbled unintelligibly under her breath. Her mutterings would warble, in pitch, or volume, or both, grating like the squeak of fingers down a window. He tried to concentrate on the shallow detective novel in his possession, but his mind kept resurfacing. Peppered in were coughs, and as time wore on, each noise throbbed in the back of his head. Sometimes, she sniffed or gulped and he could visualise her lips twisting, see her stubby-nailed hand nudging up her glasses and her face scrunching up for seconds at a time.

At one point, she panted, and his mind conjured an image of Touko, pink and sweaty, licking her lips before leaning over the desk toward him, their eyes shutting slowly...

Byakuya set down his book. With his shoulders slightly slouched forward, he wiped the heel of his palm up his forehead, trying to scrape off the mental image manifesting in his mind. Touko released a whine, low, bubbling. Bubbling in her throat, bubbling in his chest. The noise coiled around him. Gripped his neck and tightened, and then he realised his thighs were clenched together. Had been. Still were.

He soared to his feet. His chair rasped and fell backward. She shrieked and popped into view.

“B-Byakuya-sama!” she said, a pen clasped tightly in her fist. Fear dissolved into elation. “I t-thought I smelled you...!”

“You obviously knew I was here,” he snapped. “That’s why you were making those disgusting noises.”

She clapped her hands over her mouth. Whacked herself in the face with her pen by doing so. “I-If I’d known you were here, I would have controlled myself!”

Byakuya jutted out his chin. The back of his eyes burned.

“You knew what you were doing the whole time. I’m telling you, you won’t get to me so... so just give up!” he snarled.

And with that, he trounced out of the library. Trying to concentrate in such a dusty, dim environment was hard enough without her spluttering and snivelling too. Those noises disgusted him. Still did. As they should.

As he approached his room, he slowed down. Almost stopped halfway down the last corridor.

Touko’s noises hadn’t always provoked such vivid imagery.

For the next few days, Byakuya did his best to avoid her, but that proved difficult with everyone forced to share the same facility, the same space. The only places he could be sure to avoid her were in his dorm and in the male changing room, but he could only spend so long sitting on his bed or a wooden bench in a tiled room. Therefore, every day, they both bumped into each other in the same dining room, where she contorted her face and slurped on her own saliva, they met in the same classrooms where she cooed his name and drooled, and they sat in the same library, where she licked her lips and giggled to herself. Him getting distracted by her was bad enough, but the situation worsened when she realised he was watching her. When that happened, she would set her eyes on him and grin widely and babble and squeeze her hands together.

One night, he went to the sauna to unwind after finishing a book in his room, but when he passed through the noren and emerged into the locker room, feeling sure he would be alone here, he halted and lost all thought.

Across the room stood Touko, her hair freed from her practical braids, now a dark, shimmering sheet hugging her skinny frame.  

Her hair, right now, was not straw-like, not wild or tamed into braids, but smooth and unrestrained. He could run his fingers through them with ease. Curl a lock around his finger, if he wanted.

The room was properly lit, and he stiffened as he noticed Touko was in just a towel. Touko lacked her glasses and seemed to squint as she fiddled with the top of the towel that covered her chest. He stared, frozen, silent. Blank.

She lifted her head a smidgen, though she still didn’t appear to have perceived him despite her previous boasts about her sense of smell, and the movement, to his horror, made her towel shift. Drop slightly. Thankfully, not enough to show anything.

Byakuya swallowed. Correction. All this was mostly to his horror. To a certain part of his body, it seemed to be to the opposite of that. Horror.

He backed out. All throughout this, she didn’t indicate that she had detected him, and he wanted to keep it that way. On his way back to his room, striding as fast as he could without running, he didn’t cross paths with anyone, and he closed the door behind himself as soon as he got inside.

At least now he could be by himself. Be somewhere she couldn’t get to. Byakuya took his glasses off and lay down on the bed, facing upward, not bothering to change out of his uniform. He shut his eyes. His chest heaved like the sea before a storm.

Here, in the dark, alone, he could rid himself of Touko. Touko... with her long, mahogany hair, styled in twin braids that together with her owl-eye glasses and dark purple sailor uniform, was entirely fitting for someone enrolled at the school with the title of Super High School Level Literary Girl. Not only that, but she smelled like an old, damp book too, now that he was thinking about it. He had found her stench putrid at first, and his insistence that she washed herself was not unjustified, but, he thought, he had since become used to her aroma, a consequence of them being in close quarters for so long. One had to adapt to survive.

So while before he spurned her smell, though it still made him wince, he could stand it. Even if it was still just as disgusting, musty...!

Byakuya paused. Her trip to the sauna would have stripped that smell from Touko’s body, and as he lay in bed, he thought about her standing in the locker room, clad only in a... a towel. Even now, he could see her, with her furrowed brow and trembling lips. Could see her hair cascade forward, pile either side of him. See her face light up as her gaze fell on him, as she drank in his presence. He reached up but his hands phased through where she was, because she wasn’t there. The apparition of her relaxed and smirked, straddling him, and stooped her head.

The towel slipped. Byakuya flinched.

Too much. He imagined her back in her uniform. Even slapped on her braids. And yet, that didn’t deter her. Him. She smiled coyly, drawing a circle on his chest. Smiled that disgusting smile of hers, that oozed saliva, and laughed a low and throaty laugh.

Byakuya swallowed. Shivered. She glided her hand lower.

With a sigh, he pushed the back of his head deeper into his pillow, then froze. The saliva from Touko’s ghost receded from his face and she disappeared from over him. Byakuya jerked his hand away from his crotch. Revulsion dug its claws into the back of his throat. He stumbled out of bed and went to the adjoined bathroom where he splashed water on his face.

This couldn’t go on. Something had to be done. Byakuya couldn’t let himself fall victim to any more of her ploys.

Even after he gulped in air and steadied himself, grasping the edge of the sink, his heart still hammered away. And because he was locked up inside this place, he couldn’t go out for fresh air or even open a window.

He tried the corridor, but it felt almost as oppressive as his room.

Everyone would probably be in their rooms now. Byakuya decided to prepare himself a cup of tea. That would at least give him something to focus on, if only temporarily. The cafeteria was shut, but he knew there were tea bags in the storage room. His footsteps echoed a bit, but he didn’t falter. Kept his eyes forward.

When he arrived outside of the storage room, he squared his shoulders, trying to flake off the tension in his body, and opened the door.

Any hopes of distracting himself were quashed when his gaze fell on Touko.

Fortunately, she was fully dressed in her sailor uniform.

She rose sharply out of her crouched form and turned toward the door, eyes wide. Frightened. Relief flooded through her features as she realised who had made the door creak.

“Byakuya-sama?” she said, some surprise still lingering on her face. Apparently, she wasn’t completely put at ease.

Of all the spots she could have stood in, she had stationed herself at the shelving unit where he recalled there to be boxes of rose hip tea bags. His eyes stayed on her as he sauntered over. Touko didn’t retreat, dodge to the side or cower, watching him just as closely, even as he stopped in front of her. She tipped back her head to fit his face in her vision. Had the audacity to blush.

“It’s late, isn’t it?” she said, loosening up enough for a smirk. “Everyone else will be asleep... unaware of what transpires here...”

He breathed in. Her usual smell of books was gone. Of course it was. Touko had been at the public bath. In its place, he picked up a faint scent of lilac, mixed with a creamy, vanilla and almond-like fragrance.

Now, in theory this should have been an improvement. People preferred a fresh, floral smell to an old, worn book left out on a rainy day. Yet, when her new smell wafted up his nose, it felt acidic. Wrong.

“Are you okay, Byakuya-sama?” she asked, losing the smirk. She kneaded her fingers. “Y-Your face... You look unwell...! Do I need to nurse you?”

The double entendre must have been intended because her lips squirmed with pleasure, curling up at the ends. Byakuya’s face tensed. Touko always had some quip or remark ready for him that often left him at a loss for words. Also, she was in no position to comment on his face when she had hers, with wide, bulging eyes, chapped lips and a twitching nose. She even had the nerve to chuckle and continue twiddling her fingers.

“What about your face?” he sneered. “Your wide, bulging eyes... chapped lips... and twitching nose.”

That knocked her grin off. Concern troubled her features now.

“S-Should I get plastic surgery?” she asked, fidgeting more.

“It’s not just your face, it’s your personality too.” Byakuya raised his voice slightly. “You think you’re clever, trying to seduce me. And stop playing with your fingers like that!”

He grabbed her wrists. Touko jumped. The skin under her wide eyes was stained the colour of milk tea, shadows that stood out on her pale face. His hold on her arms slackened, but she didn’t even attempt to shake him off. A shred of teeth peeked out between her lips, and that familiar sensation of nausea rolled in the pit of his stomach. Fogged his head. Made his nerves vibrate with electricity.

She was disgusting. Vile. Sickening, and absolutely irresistible.

Acting on impulse, he leaned in.

Byakuya led with his tongue and slipped it into her mouth, and it was perhaps luck that she didn’t bite down in surprise. Touko gasped. The inside of her mouth tasted sour: her tongue, her teeth and her hot breath, yet though he shuddered, he didn’t withdraw. She didn’t shy away either despite the painfully amateur kiss, rooted in place.

Their glasses unceremoniously clacked together and remained askew afterwards. He wrapped an arm around her, pulling her closer and knocking their glasses even more out of place. From the onset of the kiss, his skin crawled at how bits of plaque fell loose from her teeth, how already too much saliva crashed together in their mouths and how everything was warm and moist, but rather than deter him, he melted into her. She hugged him back, breathing noisily. For a third time, their glasses got in the way, but this time, Byakuya had enough sense to remove his glasses, then hers, placing them on a shelf while maintaining the kiss, and he eagerly returned his hands to her body.

Touko adjusted her angle. Her nose bumped against his but they took it in stride. Panting, she shifted more, pulling back a little to give them a second to breathe. His tongue receded from her mouth.

A second was all that both allowed.

Their lips reunited within moments, slobbering over each other. Revolting. Incredible. He could only taste saliva. A lot of it. As they kissed harder, they grew clumsy, and their lips fell in and out of place. At one point, some of her hair slipped between them. To remove it, he licked and scratched lightly at her face with his hand, all while continuing to kiss her, and once he could no longer feel it tangling on his tongue, he pushed his lips more firmly into hers.

Touko’s lips stayed shut, and his tongue remained in his mouth. This way seemed to work better, without the tongue. Both of them groaned, clinging to the other. He opened his eyes briefly, but he couldn’t see anything in particular, just her face within a haze, so he shut them again. Besides, he didn’t need to use his eyes for this. His eyes being closed didn’t prevent him from feeling her hands slither up and cup his cheeks. Didn’t stop him from rolling his lips over hers.

They stood still, barely moving, just breathing, existing, with Touko’s back pressing against the shelving unit behind her, but after a while, the buildup of saliva became too much and he withdrew. He rather ungraciously released her and swallowed without thinking, cringing immediately at all the saliva.

Opposite him, Touko placed her fingers lightly against her lips.

“What...?” she mumbled, dazed.

Byakuya’s breaths racked through his body, and he wanted to say that he had slipped and fallen for her. Into her. Fallen into her.

He really needed to get some sleep.

“There. Are you satisfied now?” he asked curtly, and he grabbed his glasses off the shelf. Then he seized a box of tea bags. “That’s what you wanted, isn’t it?”

His footfalls barked as he stomped away. The door creaked as he opened it.

“W-Well...” Touko went, and he made the mistake of hesitating. “If... I wanted to just kiss you... I’d have asked, got rejected and picked up the pieces… or j-just stayed in my room and imagined it. B-But I just want to be with you... really... even if we don’t kiss...”

Byakuya shuddered. She just had to go say something gross like that.

“Shut up,” he said, and he left.

He kept a kettle in his room and after half a cup of tea, he lay on his bed again, staring at the ceiling in thought. After getting all of that out of the way, he had thought he would be satisfied. That maybe the uneasy feelings in him would subside.

But after a sleepless night, he realised his feelings had just got worse.

[doof-doofblog]

"Say "Hello" To Caleb, Grass!"

Tuesday 16th March 2021

Part Two

Hello again everyone! I'm back with the second episode of Tuesday evening, I have to admit I am super excited about this second episode, there was so much that happened in Part 1 that I am super excited to see what happens next. But before I dive into it, EastEnders have announced a new character is going to be arriving to Albert Square. Gwen Taylor will be joining the soap in the role of Violet Highway, Callum and Stuart's Grandma! It's been revealed that she'll be arriving later in the Spring. Something is telling me with Callum and Ben's recent engagement, is Ben interested in meeting the rest of Callum's family? Surely he's going to want to more than just Stuart at his wedding? I hope this will be the start of Callum and Stuart's family arriving to the Square. What do you guys think? Are you excited about EastEnders' new arrival. Does she know about Callum's sexuality? Is she going to be the beloved Grandma that we're hoping for, or maybe some kind of evil Granny? Please let me know what you're thoughts on this reveal!

Now focusing on the second episode of Tuesday evening, there's a hell of a lot more drama going on! The first thing I'm going to mention is Ash, it appears to be the day of her hearing. Understandably, the poor the girl is feeling nervous as her career hangs in the balance. As she sits in her pyjamas contemplating the day ahead, her brother Kheerat tries to lighten her up by suggesting that if things go to pot during her hearing, she can always come and work at the family business. However, the is something that Ash clearly doesn't want to do, she's her own person and has can look out for herself, she doesn't need to be given a job by her brother when she can simply find one for herself, although it was just a kind gesture. Plus she hasn't trained her whole life to be a nurse to then start making calls about pest control, right? Suki tries to persuade her daughter that she needs to do all she can at the day's hearing to make sure she keeps her job! 

Once again Peter feels like he needs to step in and help Ash at the hearing, he tries to lighten the mood by joking that they wouldn't let Ash lose her job because of her smile. As much as he's trying to be nice, Ash (and both I) feel like there's no time to be making jokes, I don't think he truly realises the extent of his actions have caused her. If he was to just wait and let a normal nurse on duty tend to him instead of pleading for Ash's help, this wouldn't have happened. But also I guess you could say that Ash should've stuck to her guns and not given him the pain relief whilst not on duty. As Ash agrees to let him accompany her to her hearing, it seem that that would be her huge mistake. Later as she comes home, she seems completely and utterly devastated and she reveals to her Mum that Peter made out that they were a couple, and as soon as he said that, nothing she said for herself was taken seriously in the hearing, meaning Peter could have potentially ruined her changes of getting her job back. As much as I hate to say it, I hope this makes Ash realise that Peter isn't the one for her. She can do SO MUCH BETTER than him! Even though Peter tries his best to apologise, even insulting Suki claiming that at least he's tried to do something to help whereas she has just stood and watched from the side-lines. Does this mean that Ash will lose her job for sure now? Or will Suki take it upon herself to somehow help get her daughter's job back?

-- The next thing I have to mention is Mitch and this adorable new doggo! After seeing it out again on the Square after Rainie shoos it away, he informs her that he's wanting to try and catch it to make Bailey happy, considering she's been so down as of recent, with it being Mother's Day and then losing Bronson, he wants to see his daughter smile again, and it seems the little pup is the one to do that. 

I have to say I do love Rainie, I love how she just volunteers Stuart on his behalf to help Mitch capture the dog. Of course Stuart has no idea what he's been roped into, as far he knows, he's being "Ace Ventura" for the day! I also just want to briefly mention how brilliant and comical the scene between Mitch and Stuart was as they were trying to catch the dog! As they slowly try to corner it, the dog has other plans and scurries from side of the park to the other, causing mayhem for both of them! I absolutely howled at the moment when Stuart suggested to Mitch that he buys his daughter a rabbit instead! It was brilliant comedy gold of grown middle aged men trying to outrun a young fast pup! 

Eventually the dog becomes distracted by some left over fast-food that's been thrown on the floor. Mitch grabs the opportunity to catch him, without any disruption he successfully catches the pooch! As he takes the pup home, little Bailey is over the moon to see a potential new family member, she becomes absolutely besotted with the dog in her life and names him Banjo (CUTE!) , however as soon as Karen appears the dog scurries away and Karen voices her concern to Mitch that they simply cannot afford another canine. Is it just me or did Karen say that family dog was Bronson? Meaning that they can't replace him? Again, being a dog lover and a dog owner myself, just because Bronson has passed away doesn't mean that shouldn't get another dog, they've given one day a life a happiness, why can't they give that to another dog? Bronson will never be replaced, he'll always be a part of the family. I can't understand Karen's negative response towards it, I'm hoping eventually she will come round and they'll be able to keep the new dog. What do you think? 

--

Meanwhile, inside the Vic, after finding out that she has a long-lost brother out there, Sharon is alone in the Vic slowly packing her things away for moving out. It's here that Kathy decides to pay her a visit after they both found out the identity of the man they met at Gavin's memorial. The fact that Sharon has half-brother she's never heard of or met seems to be main focus of Kathy's mind right now. However, Sharon informs Kathy that at this moment in time, she's not really interested in tracking him down or reaching out to him, for all she knows he probably has no knowledge of her also, so why would she want to  jump the gun approach him? She makes it perfectly clear that she doesn't need any more men in her life, Albie is all she needs and no one else. 

Kathy seems a little disheartened by her decision, but deep down feels that maybe if she was to help get her Zack's number, it would be there for her if she was to change her mind. What harm could it do? As Kathy calls up Sally without Sharon's knowledge, elsewhere Kim is still trying to convince Sharon to have a leaving do for when she moves out of the Vic. As they have a brief discussion in the Vic, Sharon opens up revealing that there are still times she feels very lonely, she lost her son, her husband, her best friend - there really is no one else she can talk to except for Albie, and he's a baby! That's a point, do you guys think that Sharon and Linda will ever be able to rekindle their friendship? We know that Mick and Linda will be back behind the bar any time soon, so will Linda be able to forgive her friend and will they be able to build bridges? Who knows? With plenty of wise words from Kim, and a bit of goading as she's informing everything will be sponsored by her new business "The Foxcatcher!", Sharon agrees to hold a leaving party at the Vic. Just then, at her surprise, Kathy appears with a small piece of paper with a phone number, informing her that she's managed to get hold of Zack's number if she ever thought on contacting him. Do you think Sharon will reach out to her half-brother? Will he be interested in building a relationship with her?! 

--

Finally, the main event of the episode, after the shock of Lucas's actions at the airport, the Fox family are eager to hear any updates that the police might have on Lucas and/or Caleb. However, it looks as if the mysterious phone call between Lucas and Jack from the previous episode has been revealed. Lucas gave Jack some information on where he could potentially find Caleb. As this episode begins, Jack is waiting to hear some news about a potential drug raid that the police have gone to, unfortunately to his disappointment, Caleb wasn't at the scene of where the drug raid took place. Did he escape or was he simply not there? Either way, Caleb remains out on the streets and wanted man. Jack of course is eager to catch him as he knows he's a threat to the Fox family and he knows he needs to keep them safe. 

Knowing that he has to face the music, Jack makes a visit to Lucas informing him that somehow Caleb got away. Of course Lucas is just as disappointed as Jack is, claiming that he pretty much handed him over on a plate, but unfortunately it didn't work out that way. It's here that Lucas claims that he actually had trust in Jack to keep his family safe whilst he was behind bars, it doesn't help however that Jack has been made suspended so his hands are pretty much tied. Meanwhile at home, Denise is fretting that her family are no longer safe, she voices her worries to Chelsea that she promised Phil that Raymond would be safe living with her and her family, but since Chelsea has returned, she has put all her family in danger, she also voices her concern that her relationship could be falling apart, due to Chelsea making a move on Jack. I actually did feel sorry for Denise at this point, I do hope that eventually Chelsea will see the error she's made of meeting Caleb. Interestingly, suddenly Chelsea gets a message from Caleb, but for what?!

Unbeknown to them, Caleb appears to be walking around the Square with his hood up as not to be recognised, he is a wanted man after all! As he approaches the salon, it's clear that he's looking for Chelsea, but before he can act upon entering or breaking in, Mitch catches him unaware and walks off in the other direction. Knowing that he's sent a message to Chelsea informing her to meet him somewhere, you can't help but think "Will she?, "Won't she?" - perhaps it may have been best for her to just ignore the message? But eventually she ends up meeting him in a secluded spot, as she confronts him she warns him that she's not scared of him anymore, suddenly Caleb attacks her by punching her in the stomach, for a moment I feared Chelsea was going to be in big trouble, but what happened next really took me by surprise! Out of nowhere, police rush onto the scene, surrounding Caleb, pushing him to the floor, handcuffing him with Jack making the arrest. It becomes known that when Caleb informed Chelsea to meet him, she actually decided to inform the police so they could finally catch him and arrest him, clever girl! The only concern on Chelsea's mind now though is that her Dad is going to be stuck in prison with Caleb and potentially some of his mates, could Lucas's life be in danger whilst he's in prison?!

Jack once again takes it upon himself to tell Lucas the good news about Caleb's arrest, informing him that his family will now be safe now Caleb has been captured. But he also voices his concern about Lucas's safety, proposing that he could pull some strings and get him moved to another prison, but interestingly Lucas informs Jack that he doesn't feel threatened by Caleb. He sounds reassuring as he states that he'll be fine knowing his family are safe. The one thing he does ask of him though, is to look after Denise. This conversation between the two really touched me in a way, Lucas admits his regret of not treating Denise right when they were together, he recalls how he made her life a misery. He informs Jack that Denise truly does love him and that he'd be happy to give them this blessing if they were to continue being together. With this, they both seem to have a mutual understanding and respect for one another as Jack leaves and tells Lucas to look after himself. Maybe Lucas's words began to repeat themselves in Jack's head? As he arrives back to the Square, he opens up to Denise admitting that he can't carry on the way they have been, almost making Denise believe that he's about to call things off with her again, but he makes the romantic move of actually proposing to her! I don't know about you, but I am super happy for the couple, they've been through so much together and they both deserve some happiness! 

The final scene of the episode however was deeply harrowing, didn't you guys think? Lucas is sat alone in his cell, privately praying. Suddenly he's interrupted by two inmates, one with a phone that seems to be recording. They inform to say "Hello" to Caleb, but as Lucas slowly puts away his bible and looks up to the prisoners, we get that sinking feeling that something horrendous is about to happen. I have to point out that the only thing we see is shadows, but the sound of violence. Has Lucas actually been attacked and left for dead?! I know there has been some speculation that Lucas is going to be killed off whilst in prison, BUT - I have to voice my own opinion, we didn't specifically see Lucas get harmed, we saw shadows and heard punches being thrown at someone, but with Lucas's history, I think he know that he is capable to look after himself. Even though he has worked hard to lead a better life, who's not to say that he won't be able to defend himself and potentially kill someone whilst in prison? I believe that Lucas will survive, after everything that's happened and such a huge character development, it would be devastating to see him killed off. Don't you think? 

Once again a brilliant episode, with a huge cliff-hanger! I'm looking forward to seeing what will happen next! Thank you all for reading, please feel free to send me any comments or messages about EastEnders and I'll be happy to respond! I'll be back very soon! Love you all xXx

[talesofstyles]

Mates

Hello! What have we got here? A best friend!H. Does it have smut? Yes ma’am. Have I ever written smut before? Absolutely not. Do I want to run and hide in the darkest deepest part of the earth after writing this? YES. 

Bless @waitingfortwilight (+for proofreading it!) and @all-things-fic because they’re most likely sick of hearing me talking about this in our group chat for the past few weeks, but hey it’s done now ;) also to @harrysdimplles for being excited with me!

Hope you like it and tell me what you think! xx

It was around six thirty in the morning when Harry woke up. He is one of the ten percent of the global population who are morning larks. He absolutely loves waking up early in the morning and almost never stays in bed past eight.

Meanwhile, you are the complete opposite. You are truly, definitely, utterly, completely, absolutely not a morning person. You hate waking up in the morning. You always set your alarm ten minutes before the actual time you need to get up so that you’ve got time to be pissed in bed because you have to wake up. Poor Harry made the mistake of waking you up early in the morning, thinking you’d join him for a morning run a week after both of you had settled into your new shared flat, and boy did he regret that decision. You’d given him a right bollocking, and sulked around like a stroppy child for the rest of the day.

You were never a morning person, so that was why Harry was confused when he heard sounds coming from the kitchen as he walked through to make himself a cup of coffee. He was looking down, rubbing the sleep away from his eyes as he entered the kitchen, so he didn’t realise the tall figure stirring coffee in the mug next to him wasn’t you.

“Morning mate,” greeted the man before he took a sip of his coffee.

Harry mumbled in response before it was cut with a yawn. “Mor- whoa,” he raised his palm to make a stop sign, and continued after he finished yawning. “You don’t live here.”

“Uh,” awkward silence filled the kitchen. “I don’t.”

“What are you doing here?” He knew it was a stupid question, but that somehow didn’t stop him from asking.

“Er, uh,” the guy looked down at his mug for a second before he answered. “Visiting.”

“Visiting what? My roommate’s uterus?”

The guy took a big gulp of his coffee and sat the mug down in the sink. “Uh, I’ll get going. Nice seeing you again, Harry.”

“Alright, bye bye now,” Harry said as the other guy disappeared from the kitchen, before muttering, “what a nonce,” under his breath.

Harry wasn’t usually mean. He was all about treating people with kindness, but apparently the motto didn’t apply to his roommate’s exes. It had nearly been a month since you broke up with Jamie.

Boy, was he fit. He’s still fit. He’s so fit. Legit ten out of ten. Was that the reason you keep getting back together even though you knew for sure that the relationship was toxic? Probably. But hey, you were a young woman in your early twenties; as young as a spring chicken, still naïve—and shallow, apparently—so nobody can blame you.

Jamie was your first serious boyfriend, because no—we are not going to count that nerdy bloke with glasses who used to do your maths homework in year 6. You were together on and off for four years, but you decided that enough was enough. It was your decision to end things in the first place, but that didn’t mean that you were okay with it. You did it because you knew it was the right thing to do—but deep down you knew you didn’t want it to end. Because controlling and guilt-inducing aside, Jamie was a nice bloke. He’s got a great sense of humour (unlike your darling roommate whose jokes tend to give you physical pain), and good Lord those lips always seem to know what you want to hear every single time. He’s romantic; such a good cook, and goodness gracious glory you, those abs. That face. Those green eyes that twinkle every time he talks about something that he is passionate about. He was a dream. But again, you knew ending it was the right thing to do.

You’d barely left your flat during the first week after your break up. You were so miserable, and Harry tried everything he could to cheer you up, but he didn’t have a lot of experience in helping girls get through a break up. All he knew about break ups was the fact that there were three phases (thank you Chandler) - phase one: sweatpants, phase two: getting drunk and going to a strip club, and phase three: picturing themselves with other people. He did offer to accompany you to a strip club incase you wanted to, but you threw one of the pillows on the couch at him for suggesting such a thing. So he just let you be. He threw away your healthy—re: shit—ice cream and swapped it with Ben and Jerry’s because he knew that you like to eat ice cream whilst watching Sleepless In Seattle or You’ve Got Mail, or basically any rom-coms that you decided to watch that night. He did the washing up for seven days in a row without moaning, and he even did some of your laundry too. He didn’t press you to talk it out, but he made sure that you knew that he was there for you.

You were so much better during the second week. In fact, you were too much better. Harry was surprised that it only took you a week to get over a four year relationship, but he was pleased to have his happy, bubbly roommate back. He was a little suspicious, but he brushed it off. He thought maybe you didn’t really love Jamie and that was why you were quick to get back on your feet. Or maybe you just had the emotional equivalent of a scavenging sewer rat. He’d never know.

Third week? You were back to square one.

“Well, well, well, look who’s up,” Harry greeted you as you appeared in the kitchen whilst he was beating the eggs and watching Gordon Ramsay as he did the same thing on his iPad. “Morning, love. Late night, eh? Y/N and Jamie sitting in a tree, K I S S I N G~”

“Morning,” you answered plainly. It was way too early for you to be arsed about his teasing remarks.

“So,” He paused as he added some crème fraiche into the pan. “Are you gonna tell me what happened last night? How that happened? You two getting back together?”

You sighed as you made your way to the counter where your nespresso machine sat. You put a capsule into the machine and turned it on because you needed some caffeine in your system before you could talk about it. Although you had a feeling by looking at Harry’s smirk that you were going to need a much stronger drink.

“Nah,” you replied and let out a yawn before you continued. “Was just a booty call.”

“A booty call?” Harry looked up from the pan at you. “Are you cool enough?”

“I am cool. The coolest I’ve ever been. In fact, I’m so cool that I’m gonna text him again for another booty call tonight. And maybe this time we can go out and have a booty breakfast.”

“You, my friend, are the furthest thing from cool. As the President of the casual sex society, local chapter—I call bull on your booty.”

“What?” You frowned. “It’s just a booty call.”

“Not with you it isn’t. You think that booty breakfast will maybe lead to a booty dinner, then maybe booty engaged and booty married, and have a couple booty kids and a booty retirement home, and then booty die together.”

“That isn’t true!” You protested.

“Yes it is! You know it is.” He went on. “You two keep going on and off you’re like Rihanna and Chris Brown, minus the punching and the duet.” Harry insisted as he put the eggs on two plates for both of you. “You were already doing so good last week, don’t go back there again.”

“Well, girls gotta eat!” you grumbled like a three year old whose candy had just been taken away, and Harry let out a chuckle.

“Go eat!” he stressed. “But don’t eat at the same restaurant.”

You huffed. “I don’t do one night stands.”

“So don’t stand. Lay down.” He grinned as he caught the cherry tomato that you threw at him in response. “Seriously, love, you need to get over him. He was a bellend.”

“You’re a bellend.”

“Oi! I was just trying to help!” this time he scrunched up a kitchen towel and threw it your way. “Listen, we’re going out tonight, yeah? S’gonna be fun.”

“I don’t feel like going out.”

“Alright, then. But remember, you can’t call Jamie again. I know it’s really not my business but you’re my best friend and I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I won’t.” You reassured him.

Harry reached out his pinky finger. “Pinky promise?”

“Oh my God, what are you? Five?” You took a sip of your coffee before you gave in and reached out yours. “Fine, promise. Happy now?”

***

“Harry!”

He sighed at hearing his name being yelled again for the third time. You had been quite short with him somehow even though he did nothing wrong. You weren’t usually like that and he knew it was just because you were upset, so he gave you a dick pass.

“What?” Harry asked you as he stood up from the couch to find you. “What did I do now?”

“I just changed the toilet roll three days ago and it’s already gone! How dirty is your arse?!” You grumbled.

Harry looked at you in disbelief. “For fucks sake woman it’s three quid for nine bleeding rolls!”

“Aye! Sorry didn’t know we’re a Tory household now, splashing money around like we won the lottery.”

He raked his hand through his hair. “Alright that’s it. Let’s get you out of the house. You’re mean at home.”

“Hey!” You swat his arm in response to his remark. Then he ended up showing off the arm that you hit playfully and pointed at it to prove his point.

“See?! Come on, let’s go get changed. Spit spot. Move along now. You can go and get ready now voluntarily or I’ll just drag you out by force in your two days old pyjamas. The choice is yours.” He shrugged and opened his palms.

You huffed but you did what he told you to do anyway, because maybe he was right—you needed the change of scenery. You wanted to just get back in bed since it was Saturday and took a three hour nap, but you knew that pest of a roommate of yours wouldn’t let you, and you knew that what he said wasn’t an empty threat. So, you went to take a quick shower and get ready.

“Seriously, where are we going?” You asked Harry as you waited for him to start his orange Vespa scooter.

“Ah ah ah,” Harry shook his head. “What did I say before? No questions, just put your helmet on.”

“Are you gonna kidnap me?”

“We live together!”

“Yeah, but who knows? Maybe you’re after my kidney.”

“Oh my God woman just shush, put your helmet on and hop on so we can get going, yeah? S’gonna be fun, promise. No kidney stealing or some other dodgy stuff.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle for the first time in a while, and Harry grinned. “See? You’re better outside.”

After putting the helmet on, you hopped onto the scooter and you held his waist. But then you felt his hands reaching for your arms to wrap it around his tummy and rest it on his belly button, making you sit closer to him. Your front was nearly glued to his back, which you were sure they would be in a second when you hit the road because the slightest bump would shift you forward.

You weren’t sure what it was. You weren’t sure why you were feeling a little flustered being that close to Harry. For a second you thought maybe it was just because you had broken up recently and your emotions were out of whack. That wasn’t the closest you’d ever been with Harry. You were both—still are—massive cuddlers, so it wasn’t rare for you two to sit on the couch cuddling as you watched whatever it was on the telly. You tried to brush it off. Besides, Harry was fit—still is and forever will be—so you told yourself it’s normal and that you don’t need to fret about it.

After a million bumps and sudden brakes, you both arrived in Camden. You thought Harry was going to take you to the market, but he surprised you by stopping the scooter in front of a grey building.

“Alright, get down and wait for me here, I’ll be back in a tick, just gonna park there.” He said, and you hopped down immediately, handing him your helmet afterwards.

He was back with you shortly with a huge grin plastered across his face. “Ready t’av some fun?”

“Oh!” you exclaimed. “Is it one of those escape room thing? Oh my God Harry, we are both dumb—we’ll never get out!”

Harry protested. “Hey!”

You burst into laughter when you saw the look on his face. Neither of you had ever been to an escape room before, so you didn’t know what to expect. But you couldn’t deny that you were quite excited, although never in a million years would you admit that to Harry’s face.

It turned out that you were required to book the room beforehand, and obviously you hadn’t since it was pretty spontaneous. Fortunately, there was one room left available right away.

“We only have the Zen Room available for now, would that be alright with you?” The receptionist kindly offered you.

“Oh, what is it about?” Harry asked her.

“Basically your mission is to help an orphaned Japanese girl retrieve her priceless family heirlooms. Are you familiar with Asian culture? Also it’s not a requirement but if you can speak Japanese that would make it so much easier.” She explained.

“Well, I know a bit about the culture, yeah,” Harry nodded.

You lifted your eyebrow as you looked at him. “What do you know?”

“Well, I went to BLACKPINK concert once.” He gave a lopsided grin and the receptionist had a little chuckle.

“Oh my God.” You facepalmed. “We’re never getting out aren’t we?”

Harry insisted that it was going to be just fine and that it was going to be fun so you agreed to do it. The receptionist gave you a quick briefing before walking you to the end of the hall where the Zen Room was.

“There’s a screen inside and I will give you clues from time to time. Have fun!” she said as she opened the door for both of you. You thanked her and as soon as the door was closed, the light turned on and you scanned the room around you.

The room wasn’t big, but there was something like a sliding door that you were sure that would open at some point and there’s got to be another room behind that.

“Oh bollocks! Everything is in Japanese, I can’t read anything.” You grumbled as you began looking around for clues.

Harry mumbled nonchalantly. “I can speak Japanese.”

“What?! I didn’t know that.” You replied. Feeling a little relieved and for the first time you thought maybe you two were going to nail it.

He lifted his shoulder in a half shrug. “You never asked.”

“Alright, say something.” You requested, curious about what would he sound like speaking in foreign language. He was shit in French but you thought maybe he was good in Japanese?

“Uh, konnichiwa. Arigatou gozaimasu.”

You shook your head. “No, not just hi and thank you. Say a proper sentence.”

“I can’t. That’s the only words I know.”

“THAT’S IT?!” you hollered.

“Hey, it’s still Japanese!” he argued.

“Two words don’t count!”

“Knowledge is a knowledge no matter how small!” he insisted.

You could go on but you realised that you had a more important task. You wanted to solve the mystery before the time ran out because they gave free ice cream if you manage to get out in under an hour, and you were willing to fight for free ice cream, so you told Harry to find as much clues as he could in one part of the room whilst you searched the other part.

Harry jumped up in surprise and tumbled when the telly suddenly turned on and the receptionist’s face appeared on the screen. You cackled, and the receptionist failed to stifle her snigger. “Sorry, are you alright?” she asked.

“Well, physically I’m fine.” He replied. “Emotionally, I’m bruised.”

You howled at his response and the fact that he was looking down at the floor in embarrassment made it even harder for you to control your laughter. The girl gave you the first clue and told you to try to open the wooden box in the corner of the room. You tried to move things around before you heard Harry squeal when he found a bunch of keys.

“Hey, look at what I found!” he beamed proudly.

“What?” You asked curiously. “What is it?”

He showed you the keys that he found and shook it to make a rattling noise. “Keys!”

“Aaah! Open it! Open it!”

He struggled to get the key into the keyhole. He had tried five different keys and none of them seemed to work. “It doesn’t fit!” He grumbled, but then giggled not even two seconds afterwards. “Hehehe.”

You looked at him in confusion. “Why are you laughing?”

“If I got a penny for every time I said that.”

You rolled your eyes. “I don’t think any of those keys will work. That’s too easy. There’s got to be something else.”

It was safe to say that you both sucked at it. You had been in the room for twenty minutes and so far both of you had only found two little coins, a silk hand fan and a bunch of useless keys. You had tried to open every drawer and looked at underneath the tables but you found nothing. But then the sliding door suddenly opened and both of you looked at each other in horror.

“Did- what- how?!” you gasped.

“I’ve got no idea! Do you think this room is haunted?” he deadpanned. He knew you were a wimp and he found pleasure from the look of your face.

You scolded him. “HARRY!”

He giggled and walked behind you into the other room. Actually, he knew why the door opened—because he opened it. He was moving some paintings around and as soon as he moved that painting of a fish on the wall, the door opened, but there was no way on earth he would tell you that. And being the pest that he was, he made some creepy, breathy sound of your name to wind you up, making you shudder in fear.

“Harry I swear to God if you don’t stop, the first thing I’m going to do the second we get out of here is to kill you.” You threatened him, and he howled in response.

There was a giant sudoku on the wall, a table with some antiques on top of it and an empty aquarium. Great. You were shit at sudoku and you were sure that Harry was even worse.

“Oooh! Sudoku!” Harry clapped his hands excitedly.

You glanced at him. “Do you know how to play it?”

“Of course! I’m really good at it. I’m the best. I’m the king of sudoku!”

“Have you ever played it?”

He shook his head. “Not once in my whole life.”

“Oh God, we’re never getting out.”

“Come on, let’s just put those numbers in the slot.” He suggested as he began to take the wooden numbers out of the box.

“That’s not how it goes.” You folded your arms and Harry tilted his head at you, his forehead furrowed.

“That’s literally how it goes!”

“I mean,” you licked your lips for a second out of habit before you went on. “There’s got to be some rules. We can’t just put random num- ah! I remember we can’t put the same numbers in one region!”

“You’ll find me in the region of the summer stars~”

You smacked your forehead with your palm when he started to sing. After knowing him for a year and a half and lived together for about seven months, you knew that he sings 24/7. Most of the times it’s nice because you couldn’t deny that he’s got beautiful voice, but sometimes it makes you want to tape his mouth shut.

“Shut your trap and just put it in!”

“I love it when you talk dirty to me.” He smirked at you as he put a nine and another nine but upside down next to each other in the slots.

You rolled your eyes. “That’s upside down you absolute spoon.”

You ended up doing the sudoku alone because Harry was shit at it. You weren’t much better, but you were better nonetheless. He decided to go and look for other clues. When you were done with the sudoku—re: gave up—you frowned when you looked around and couldn’t find Harry. You walked to the other room and you finally found the bloke sat on the floor in the corner of the room eating a Twix.

“What are you doing?” You asked.

“I need to gain strength. You want a bite?” He replied as he took another bite of the chocolate bars. Yes, he always took a bite of both of them at once because he didn’t want one of the chocolates to get lonely in his tummy.

You chuckled. “Mate we’re shit at this we haven’t even done much.”

“But still fun, right? You’re having fun?” His eyebrows waggled as he licked his fingers after the last bite of the chocolate.

“I am. But I give up.”

He cackled. “We can still get ice cream after this if y’want? Screw free ice cream.”

“You’re buying?” You grinned at him, and he nodded.

“You know what? I’ve got a better idea. We’ll go to Shake Shack after this for some burgers and frozen custard cause daddy don’t skimp.”

“Great!” you cheered. “Am starving.”

“I swear you’re either starving, freezing or fuming.”

“I want to deny but you’re right.”

“What? Say tha’ again, can’t hear ya,” he teased.

You just sat together until the time ran out and the door opened, accepting the fact that you were just shit at it but hey at least you tried. After that, Harry fulfilled his promise of buying you a burger and frozen custard.

“Oh the cow in the meadow goes moo~” Harry started to sing again as soon as you sat down at the table with your food.

“……”

“Oh the cow in the meadow goes moo~”

“……”

“Then the farmer hits him on the head and grinds him up and that’s how we get hamburgers~”

***

“Y’alright ya wee cunt?” You greeted Harry, who had some random bird’s mouth attached to his neck. You were sure it would leave a mark or two. “How you been deein’?”

Harry pulled his neck away from the bird as soon as he heard you. “For God’s sake mate how much you’ve been drinking?!”

“Eh,” you shrugged. “Just a couple.”

“A couple my arse! C’mon let’s get you home, yeah?”

“What about your b- wait Harry, your bird’s gone!”

“S’alright. Not important. Let’s just get you home before you start calling people cunts again.”

“Hey! I don’t call people that.”

“You literally just called me that!”

“Well yeah that’s my pet name for you but I don’t call other people that.”

“What kind of pet name is that?!” Harry said as he held your hand and began walking towards the door. But just a couple steps away from the door, Rolling in the Deep came on and Harry gasped. “Oh fuck!”

“Wanna stay for this one song?” You smirked at him and you knew he wouldn’t say no.

***

The next morning you woke up feeling like you had just been hit by a truck. Your head was in bits and the rain outside sounded more like gunfire to you. You didn’t remember much from the night before and you surely didn’t know how you got home since you weren’t sure how pissed Harry was last night, but the fact that you woke up alone in your own bed made you sigh in relief.

“Morning, love. Coffee?” Harry greeted as he spotted you in the kitchen.

“Ssshh, why are you yelling?” You grumbled as you covered both of your ears with your hands.

Harry chuckled lightly and whispered. “I’m not? But alright. How are you feeling?”

“My head’s in bits. How much did I drink last night?”

“Well, the club’s gone because you drank it.” He teased. “Also you called me a cunt three times so you obviously had tequila.”

“Did I try to call him?”

“Yes. And you ran to the loo when I tried to take your phone away.”

“Did you manage to take it?”

“That I didn’t because I didn’t want people to think I was snooping in a ladies toilet. They’d kick me out.”

“Oh fuck! I called him didn’t I?”

“Nah, you didn’t. After you came in, I peeked inside and shouted so everyone could hear that you were about to call your ex. There were a couple girls inside and they talked you out of it.”

You couldn’t help but let out a little chuckle, and you wished you’d remembered it because that sounded funny. “What would I do without you, H.”

“Hey, s’nothing. What do you want to do today?” He asked you as he poured some muesli into the bowls.

“Sleep.”

And that was what you did for most of the day. After you had breakfast you took a nap and woke up around two in the afternoon. It was raining cats and dogs outside so you settled on the couch watching Friends because you spent the last few weeks watching rom-coms and if you watched another rom-com you swore you would lose your shit. You were snuggling up to Harry’s side, his left arm wrapped around you as you laughed at Joey and Rachel bickering. There were some slices of pizza left on the coffee table because none of you could be arsed to cook, along with two cans of coke.

“Do you want to finish that?” You asked Harry, tilting your head to the box of pizza.

Harry yawned before he answered. “I’m full.”

“Alright, I’ll clean that up.” You said as you rose from the couch.

“I’ll help.” Harry immediately picked up the box and you put the drinks on top of the box before you bent over to wipe the coffee table. “Watch out!” Harry warned you, but it was too late. Your back bumped the box of pizza, making the remaining coke spill all over his Rolling Stones shirt.

“Oh God, I’m sorry!” You panicked because you knew that was his favourite t-shirt. You grabbed a couple tissues right away and began rubbing the stained part of the shirt hoping it would help take away some of the liquid before it was stuck to the fabric. “Harry, I’m sor-“

You weren’t sure how it happened, but the next thing that happened surprised you. His lips were pressed against yours all of sudden, cutting you mid-sentence. He broke the kiss for two seconds to put the box of pizza and the cokes back on the table before leaning back to you and pressing his lips against yours again. You’d soften up this time around. You knew that was wrong. It was Harry and he was your best friend, not to mention that you live together and that would complicate the shit out of things. But it just felt so right. You never thought you would actually kiss him and you thought it would be awkward, but it wasn’t. You parted your lips when he swiped his tongue along your bottom lip subtly, his hands moved from your back to cup your jaw.

You couldn’t help but let out a little giggle against his lips when you felt something poking you in the stomach. Harry pulled his lips away instantly as soon as he realised what made you giggle. The look on his face made it harder for you to stifle your snigger.

“Shit,” his breaths quickened. “Sorry. I- I didn’t know what came over me. We’ve never- I shouldn’t have-“

You laughed as you dropped to your knees, and you swore Harry looked like he’d just seen a ghost. His pupils were dilated and he took in a sharp breath. “Y/N what are you doing?”

“Hunting elephants.”

“I’m serious.”

“What do you think? Is it not obvious?” You asked.

“It is. Fuck, I mean- you sure? You’re gonna-“ he blabbered.

“Suck you off, yes.” You cut him short and nodded.

He was less tense by then, a grin creeping up on his face “Such a dirty mouth.”

“Well I’m about to put your dick in my mouth so I’m not really concerned about oral hygiene right now.” You rolled your eyes.

“Hehehe.” He giggled, and you looked at him in confusion.

“What?”

“You’re gonna see my willy.”

“I know.”

“I’ve got some hair there.”

“Okay.”

“Not a lot because I still shave a little to keep it nice and pretty but-“

“Harry,”

“Yes?”

“Shut up.”

“Okay, sorry.”

You didn’t know what came over you to make you want to do it, but it was a bit too late to chicken out, and frankly you wanted to do it. In four years of a relationship—yes, on and off but we’re going to round that up for dramatic purpose—you only gave Jamie head once so really, you didn’t know what came over you.

You knew he wasn’t small. You saw a glimpse of it a couple months prior when he forgot to lock the bathroom door, but you certainly didn’t get a good look of it. Little did you know that the next time you look at it, it’d nearly poke you in the eye.

His eyes widened when you looked up to him, muttering a series of profanities under his breath. You took a deep breath before taking it into your hand, and he choked on his breath as soon as your hand came into contact. He felt heavy in your hand. He was hard and you could see him already leaking from the tip.

“Give it a kiss, love. Please.” He begged, and you obliged. Kissing the tip lightly, before you began licking from the base to the tip. You weren’t really sure what to do, but the noises that he made egged you on so you thought maybe you were doing fine. His head lolled back when you gently sucked the tip.

The grunts and praises that kept flowing out of his mouth encouraged you to take it further into your mouth. It felt really heavy and you could just feel it weighing down on your tongue as he pushed past your lips. You took the rest of him in your hand and you began to work your hand and mouth around him in sync. You knew that there was a slight chance that both of you would regret what you were doing, but it didn’t matter in that moment.

You knew that he was close when he started whining. You let him go for a second to ask him before it was too late. “Where do you want it?”

You could hear his ragged breathing but he couldn’t form a sentence - that was how fucked up he was. You let him go again for a second. “Okay, aim wherever you like, just don’t get it in my ha- MATE YOU HAD ONE JOB!”

“Sor- sorry. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” He apologised as he fell down to the couch behind him, trying to even his breathing. “Love, that was, wow I- wow I can’t even speak.”

You chuckled. “S’alright. You’re welcome by the way.”

“You.” He shook his head in disbelief, still grinning from ear to ear. “Didn’t know you have it in you, babe.”

“I’m gonna take a shower then we’re gonna go out and play laser tag.” You smirked as you jumped to your feet.

“What?”

“What? You don’t want to play laser tag?”

“Well yeah of course I want to. S’fun seeing you curse at a bunch of eight year olds and make them cry.” He paused to take another deep breath before he went on. “But, uh, you don’t want me to reciprocate?”

“Nah, I’m fine. Maybe later.” You gave him a lopsided grin.

“Fine we’re going. But-“

“What?”

“Wanna snog again before we go and get ready?”

You nodded sheepishly. “Okay.”

-

bow chicka wow wow