#Grass Broom
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quietwingsinthesky · 6 months ago
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Drabble 151/366 - Doctor Who
Amelia Pond, Amy, the woman the Doctor belonged to before he belonged to Clara, and now, both of them have seared themselves across his hearts.
But he is Clara's now, she thinks, quite selfishly and unashamed of it. No matter if she can't be with him anymore. She's sure of that.
Until Amy speaks. "What the hell are you doing in my garden?" Clara feels something sharp go into her. All those questions the Doctor had about whose face he wore. He'd never mentioned the accent.
"I crashed," Clara snaps.
"Happens more than you'd think," Amy mutters. "Well, come inside."
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qunaributts · 8 months ago
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the year of our lordt 2k24 and there is 'women cant have muscles' discourse on my dash
away! begone with ye!!
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cloudberrylane · 2 months ago
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Kongen Befaler (2021): Hei hei mel
Move the flour to the mixing bowl. You may not leave the terrace with the flour nor move the bowl. You have 20 minutes. Your time starts now.
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mothmiso · 3 months ago
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Dedosplistskaro (2) (3) (4) by Panegyrics of Granovetter
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stimboard-central · 2 years ago
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“Stop trying. Take long walks. Look at scenery. Doze off at noon. Don’t even think about flying. And then, pretty soon, you’ll be flying again.”
A Kiki’s Delivery Service stimboard for Anon! 
🐱 x 🧹 x 🍞 💐 x 🎀 x 💐 🍞 x 🧹 x 🐱
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zyonji · 2 years ago
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I've spent the first month of this year making another original oil painting. It's of a little sheep witch bringing out some evening stars for their avian companions. I really wanted to do something more landscape focused inspired by my home town. I'm really happy with how it turned out. (:
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swashbucklerswan · 1 year ago
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Chicago Front Yard An example of a large traditional full sun front yard stone landscaping in fall.
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bestwebdevelopmentsblog · 1 year ago
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sunnami · 5 months ago
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❝we can't be friends (wait for your love.)❞
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[credits to @artofpan for the lovely art! title is taken from ariana grande's song, we can't be friends.]
summary. fortune favours the bold, so they say. but you're an awkward ravenclaw in yearning.
pairing/s. poly!marauders x reader (james potter x reader, lily evans x reader, remus lupin x reader, and sirius black x reader.)
word count. 11.4k
tags. childhood friends to ex-friends to lovers, fluff, minor angst, happy ending, not proofread we die like remus and tonks, also a bit of spice ;3
note. asdhjf while im working on the last part of the time traveller au pls enjoy this fluffy piecee ueueue
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‘TIS THE SEASON OF raucous jeering and gaudy paraphernalia in the corridors, the unmistakable scent of overly-polished brooms, mud trekking through the cobblestone floors, and jerseys soaked in sweat, rain, and grime after hours of vigorous training. The dreaded second week of school where arrogant fledglings end up in the infirmary on account of broken noses, dislocated shoulders, or sprained wrists.
In other words: Quidditch tryouts. 
You’re just not fond of the havoc wreaked in every corner and alcove of the castle. But to your relief, the library remains untouched through it all. 
Needless to say, you absolutely hate Quidditch. 
It is a fact you simply will not elaborate on. The skies are blue, the grass blades are green; you and the Marauders are as different as night and day. 
On your way to the library, the last bastion of academia, you weave past the crowd in the courtyard corridor, ears ringing from the shouting match earlier in the Great Hall for breakfast—something about the Cannons versus the Magpies. There’s a pile of books shoved inside your leather satchel, painfully bumping into your hip with each step you take. You traverse through the Romanesque architecture, blissfully unaware of the misfortune to come. 
“If I study for Charms now, I can take a nap for the rest of the day,” You say to yourself, pensively tapping at your chin. 
“Watch out!” 
You barely have any time to react before a Quaffle comes crashing straight into your face. 
“Merlin’s hairy arsehole—fuck!” There’s a sicky sound of bones cracking, a dizzying flash of white before your eyes, and something viscous trickling from your nose down to your lips. Your hands fly to your face—instantly flinching when you catch a glimpse of your fingers dipped in blood. Your eyes grow wide in panic, chest rapidly heaving—it’s only now that you realize that you’re sitting on the ground, textbooks laying haphazardly around you, shoulders quivering from the adrenaline. The crowd’s concerned murmurs are lost in the cacophony of hysteria. 
“Move!” 
To your rescue, is Alice Fortescue, a fellow prefect. She cuts through the onlookers of petrified first-years and nosey fifth-years. You have no doubt this incident will grace the school’s gossip column for the next few days. She grabs your arm and wraps it around her shoulder with ease. You’d write poetry of her gallant display, but you were too busy moaning in agony. She utters a few incantations to stop your nosebleed from worsening, though there’s not much she can do to help with the possible concussion. 
“Did you know Bludgers used to be called blooders?” You mumble languidly, nearly crashing into one of the knight statues. 
“I do now,” replies Alice, tightening her hold on your waist, the ghost of a fond smile on her face. (She’s missed you, actually—three and a half years of radio silence. There used to be a time where running into you in the Gryffindor common rooms was an everyday occurrence. Even the Ravenclaw prefects knew where to look first if they wanted to find you.)
After what feels like an eternity of trudging through the castle, you finally reach the infirmary. The matron, Poppy Pomfrey, shrieks in alarm at the sight of your soiled blouse and blood stained lips. She gently ushers you into her hold, guiding you to a vacant bed. Alice hangs back, awkwardly shuffling her feet, gaze worriedly trained on you. 
“You may return to your classes, Miss Fortescue, thank you,” says Madam Pomfrey, tipping your head upwards and grimacing.  “Oh, good heavens, what happened?” 
Your head droops in her palms, blood trickling from the corner of your mouth—you must have bit your tongue earlier. You blubber pathetically, “Got hit by a stray quaffle.” 
Wordlessly, Madam Pomfrey summons a vial from her stash in the cupboards. She hands the small bottle to you, uttering various healing spells under her breath with a deft expertise of someone who’s been doing this for years upon years now. “There,” says Madam Pomfrey, lips firmly pursed. “That should help with the fractured cheekbones.”
With—what?
As your eyes bulge out of your head, Madam Pomfrey looks over you once more, a floating quill at her side hastily scribbling on a parchment. “Concussion, mild blood loss, fracture in the cheekbones, broken nose cartilage.” She illuminates the tip of her wand, and moves it left and right in front of you. “Hmm. Any nausea at all, dear?”
“There’s a six point four chance I’m going to get amnesia,” You whisper solemnly, head hanging low as your voice cracks from the unbearable pain. “I don’t want to get amnesia.”
“There’s no need for you to worry about that while you’re under my care.” Madam Pomfrey gently nudges you to lay on the pillow. She hands you a folded blanket. “Rest now. We’ll keep you here until the morning in case your condition worsens.”
“I can’t.” You groan, sitting upright—Madam Pomfrey pushes you back onto the bed with a stern glare. “I’ve got to study.”
“And I’ve got three other students to tend to. Mister Lockhart has been dealing with food poisoning all week.” Madam Pomfrey places her hands on her hips, sighing sharply. She jerks her thumb behind her back—that’s when you notice that three certain people are staring back at you. Sirius Black and James Potter squeezing together in one chair—and miserably failing—and Remus Lupin, resting cozily on the infirmary bed with bandages around his arms and head. “And don’t even get me started on this one.”
“You love him, Poppy, don’t lie.” Sirius grins wolfishly at the matron. You make out the sunken bags underneath his gray eyes, pale lips and his unkempt heap of dark curls. 
Pomfrey huffs exasperatedly. “It would be easier to wrangle a hoard of Hippogriffs than to keep you three out of the infirmary past visiting hours.” She spares you one last glance, nodding when she deems you safe and healthy—as can be, anyway. Gilderoy Lockhart rolls out of his bed, his cries echoing around the room, threatening to barf up his entire breakfast, and Madam Pomfrey is gone in an instant. 
There is an awkward silence that envelops your side of the room—you roll over on your left, desperately ignoring the three of stares burning intensely into your back. 
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THE STORY GOES like this: 
You know their names more than you know your own. Each morning finds them at the Ravenclaw common room’s doorstep—while waiting, Lily, Sirius and Remus try to figure out the password as James attempts to brute force his way in. (He had actually figured out the riddle minutes ago, James would just rather play along with his friends.) The blue-tied prefects watch endearingly as one of their first-years rush out of the tower, squealing deafeningly, and jumps right into the lion cubs’ embrace. (It’s not that Inter-House friendships are rare, it’s more common than one would think; usually, it just takes more time for the eaglets to break out of their shell.) 
“I got a hundred and twelve!” You exclaim merrily, hair in disarray and eyes puffy from having just woken up. Lily grabs your hands; together, the both of you jump up and down, excitedly giggling in celebration of the success of your History of Magic essay. (You had ignored them for a day to focus on your homework—Sirius did not like that at all. It wasn’t as fun to play if one of their friends were missing. Gone off to study, of all things.) 
The tale of your friendship may be an unsolved mystery to some, but to you, it’s like finding jigsaw pieces that perfectly fit together. Magic isn’t only centaurs in forbidden forests, or ceilings bewitched to look like the night sky—sometimes it’s stumbling into a random train compartment and shyly offering your bag of assorted treats. Next thing you know, Lily Evans and Marlene McKinnon are constantly with you in the library, oohing and aahing over pages of the fantasy novels Lily had brought from the muggle world. 
There’s rarely a day where you aren’t spotted in a sea of red and gold. Except when you’ve studied yourself sick—and the Marauders are never fond of that. 
(“I’m sorry, she can’t come down today,” says one of the fifth-year prefects, Lalita Burman, a rather tall girl with intricate curls, brown skin, and eyes that stare into one’s soul. She wakes up to banging on the tower entrance, not even eight o’clock in the morning yet—on a Saturday. It doesn’t come off as a surprise anymore when she opens the door to five red-faced children. “She’s come down with the flu. Most of the firsties have, actually. Madam Pomfrey says they’ll get better by tomorrow but Alex and I have been running ourselves ragged looking after them.” 
James Potter narrows his eyes at her. “Okay. Then we’ll go inside.” 
“Maybe we can help,” says Remus. 
Lalita holds up her hand to stop them from barging in. “That’s really sweet, but we can’t risk any of you getting sick as well.” 
Sirius stands on his toes to spy past Lalita’s shoulder, frowning when he finds nothing of importance—or really, when he can’t find you. He couldn’t wait to call you stupid for getting yourself sick—you just missed out on frog hunting. “That’s alright.” He huffs, shoulders slumping dejectedly. “Our immune system can take it. Will you let us in now?” 
Her eye twitches. “Come back tomorrow.” 
With that, she slams the door in their faces. 
The Marauders then declare you are never, ever allowed to get sick again.) 
Your second year in the castle creeps up on you without you noticing. 
“Remus Lupin, I am going to kill you!” 
No one bats an eyelash when you stalk up to the Gryffindor table, twelve years old and on a mission, fresh from the summer holidays. You slam your hands down onto the table, eyes ablaze as Remus stares at you, head resting on his palms, shaggy blond hair falling over his brows—no thoughts, head empty, just sheer adoration. 
“Hello there, stranger,” Remus says, grinning fiendishly. “You look rather lovely—did you have a good holiday?” 
You scoff, pointing an accusatory finger at him—Peter watches at the scene with wide eyes, slowly chomping on his shepherd’s pie, not an inkling as to what was going on. “Don’t try me, Lupin!” You exclaim sternly. “That book you gave me—you said it would have a happy ending! Tell me why I stayed up until bloody five o’clock in the morning crying me eyes out! You. . . you—!” 
“Wanker, dingbat, berk, git,” Lily supplies helpfully with an innocent smile, pulling you down to sit with her. “And my personal favorite—toerag.” 
You gape at the pretty redhead, jaw falling to the floor. “How do you even know these words?” 
She hums nonchalantly, spreading blueberry jam onto her buttered toast. “A lady must arm herself with the necessary ammunition.” Lily points to a certain pair of boys—James and Sirius are currently engaged in an eating contest, shoveling pancakes after pancakes inside their mouths; so far it looks like Sirius is winning. Lily sighs dramatically, rolling her eyes, “Especially if she wants to survive that kind of company.”  
“Him, even more,” says Lily, gesturing to Remus. “He may be Professor McGonagall’s golden boy but I see right through him.” 
“What can I say?” Remus smirks, helplessly shrugging his shoulders. “I’m a monster.” 
Lily glares at him. 
Then, you turn thirteen—the dreaded age. Suddenly, you’re dealing with oily skin, acne, body odor, hair growing out of places you didn’t even know could grow hair, hormones messing up the way you look at everyone else—something awakens in you the day you see Dorcas Meadowes in the Quidditch pitch wearing a black sleeveless turtleneck—and hormones messing up the way you look at yourself. 
Everything is starting to change. 
You usually never blink twice when James wraps his arms around your waist, laying his head on your shoulder. Except this time, he’s gone from a gangly bean sprout, to a heartthrob with perfectly messy hair, newly defined muscles from his countless hours of Quidditch training, charming smile, eyes that one could get lost into for hours, and a tantalizing scent of mint and bergamot. 
“Are you really not going to our game this Saturday?” James whispers in your ear—the five of you had been hanging out in the library. 
You sigh. “Can‘t. Sorry.” 
“Scared your House is going to lose to us, pet?” Sirius teases from where he’s sitting backwards on the chair next to you, engrossed in twirling locks of your hair around his finger. 
You bristle at the nickname—they have been brazen with the endearments lately, you’ve noticed. “It’s not like we’re going to win anyway,” You mumble, tapping your quill on the empty parchment—there’s never any work done while they’re around. “There’s only a sixteen point seven percent chance of Ravenclaw winning against Gryffindor.”
James wrinkles his nose, now sitting on the edge of the table. “Percent, shmercent. What matters is how everyone plays that day.” 
He kicks his legs against yours, pushing his glasses further up his nose. “So, will you come watch?” 
“We have that History of Magic project, remember,” You say defeatedly. “I need to get started on it this week otherwise I’ll be behind all the electives I signed up for this year.” 
Lily frowns, looking up from her own homework to glance at you in concern. “How many did you even pick?” 
“All of them.” 
“What?” Lily screeches in terror, suddenly rising from her seat to lean over the table. “How is that even possible? How did McGonagall even allow that?” 
“Professor Flitwick,” You correct, wincing when Lily and Sirius glare at you. “It took a lot of convincing, but eventually I wore him down. All I had to do was rework some of my class schedules and promise him over a thousand times that my wellbeing wouldn’t ever be compromised by my studies. Otherwise he’d take back his decision.” 
Remus doesn’t seem all too happy. “No wonder we don’t see you at Transfiguration anymore.” 
“Or in Kettleburn’s class,” Peter pipes in. 
“Are you sure it’s okay for you to be taking that many classes at once?” Remus grimaces, sharing a worried look with James. “The limit is three, and even that is too much to handle.” 
“I’ll be fine, don’t worry.” 
(Peter knows a lie when he hears one.) 
James tenses up, jaw tightening. “So you’re saying you’re going to miss a game because of school? Like all the other times? That’s bullcrap!” 
Remus hisses his name in warning. 
Tears prick your eyes instantly—you’ve heard him speak like this when quarreling with Slytherins, but never to your face. “That bullcrap means a lot to me, Potter. You’d understand that if you took your studies seriously more than just going around and playing silly pranks on everyone!” 
James scoffs. “Like how you take us seriously? Did you know that Lily is the youngest ever to be invited to Slughorn’s club? Yeah, she got the invitation last week. Did you congratulate her for that when she was staying up late with you to revise for your practical test in Herbology?” 
“I—” You stammer, guilt pooling in your stomach. 
“No, you didn’t.” James sneers. “You only see yourself. Do you know what Remus has been going through? Do you even care?” 
“That’s enough, James,” Lily says vehemently. 
“Well, if you think like that, maybe we all should just stop being friends!” You retort.
Before anyone else can reply, Madam Pince comes around the corner, and everyone falls silent—a tense atmosphere that threatens to choke you. With a heavy heart, you gather your belongings and run out of the library. 
The months pass by, and Frank Longbottom wonders why he doesn’t wake up at midnight anymore to find five students having a sleepover in the common room with a certain eagle, each of them trying to contain their giggles and  failing. (One time, the Prewett twins had run down the stairs in panic, only to find you and Peter screaming from Remus’s theatrics in telling his ghost stories during an awful thunderstorm.) You no longer visit the Gryffindor table at breakfast, and they no longer wait for you after your classes. 
“It’s probably just a tiff,” says Alice to Mary Macdonald. “They’ll make up—they always do.”  
Mary nods, though unsure—while Peter is gut-wrenched about it all, the other four in particular seem like heartbroken puppies when you enter the Great Hall and barely acknowledge their presence. 
The snow melts and time catches everyone unaware.
“I can’t believe I’m going to graduate and you idiots haven’t made up yet,” Lalita sighs as she pulls you in for a hug. In a few weeks, she and the other seventh-years are due to leave; you’ve grown real close with her over the past few terms. Her departure is going to be truly difficult for you to handle. “Just talk it out with them, okay?” 
You sniffle, holding onto her robes. “I’m trying, but they’ve been ignoring me, too.” 
Lalita squeezes you tighter. “Don’t worry. These kinds of things have a way of sorting themselves out.” 
At the end of the term, you present your final project to Professor Binns. The ghost nearly returns to life. It was a research study on the Evolutionary Analysis of Magical RNA Manipulation in the Catalonian Fireball. Days after your paper is published, you’re featured on the Daily Prophet; dragon tamers and professors from Spain are owling you letters of praise and congratulations. It goes without saying that such a feat had naturally catapulted Ravenclaw to the top, ultimately winning the House Cup. 
(But what you don’t tell everyone is that you’re so severely burnt out after that—to the point where you didn’t want to ever pick up a textbook again. For the first time in forever, learning had become a chore, not a passion. You’d been puking out of anxiety, hands trembling as you forced yourself to write on the parchment, the sides of your fingers constantly swollen and raw. You’d study until four o’clock in the morning, and wake up an hour later to complete all of your homework. You’ve begun to masquerade as the ghosts of Ravenclaw Tower; lifeless and indifferent. Xenophilius and Pandora fuss over you, but you just lock yourself in your room and say: “I’m tired.”
Perhaps, it is why Professor Flitwick isn’t surprised when you withdraw from most of your electives. 
“The pursuit of knowledge is a rewarding journey,” says Professor Flitwick on the day you visit his classroom—hours away from needing to be on the train platform. He sighs and sets his spectacles on the table. “But it is a perilous one, too. I trust that you have understood the consequences of your actions. As a teacher, I can only offer guidance when it is needed. The other professors may disagree, but I find the best learning method to be, what is it the kids say—fuck around and find out.” 
You snort. 
Professor Flitwick chuckles, quite pleased with himself. “If I may be so bold as to leave you with another piece of homework, I would like to ask you to truly enjoy the holidays. I hear the summer is a time for discovering new things about oneself, for new beginnings and growth. After all, learning does not happen only within the castle grounds.”) 
Later that day, you board the express, purposefully choosing the farthest compartment where you know they’ll be staying in. You share the cabin with two people whose names are Regulus and Narcissa Black—this is the first time you’ve ever met them. Narcissa shares her green tea flavored candy with you.  Afterwards, you spend the rest of the ride back to King’s Cross asleep. 
(Right before the train arrives, Remus is nervously searching for you in the crowd of people. 
“We’ve got to say goodbye, at least.” Lily nibbles on her lower lip uneasily. She once joked that she could find you anywhere—as if you two had a red string tied around both your pinky fingers. Now, it seems you’re too far away for her voice to reach you. 
James drops his head down in shame. “I never got the chance to apologize.” 
“She’ll appear somewhere,” says Sirius unwaveringly with a nod, taking Lily’s heavy suitcase from her as steam whistles are heard in the distance. “She could be in our special compartment, waiting for us right now.” 
“Are you sure?” Peter questions dubiously. 
“Of course I am, she’s my best friend,” Sirius counters resolutely. “She’s there, I can feel it.”)
You’re fourteen when you return back to the castle—you hadn’t touched a single book throughout the summer, but you find yourself well-rested; you learn how to swim from your mother; staying up all night to accompany your family dog as she gives birth to seven beautiful puppies, and scratching yourself on the bark of sycamore trees with your poor attempts at climbing.
You find out that you don’t like Arithmancy at all, strongly preferring Herbology and Care of Magical Creatures. You’ve also garnered a curiosity for Ornithomancy, the oracle reading of birds. 
This year, you signed up for the Gobstone club, despite your unfamiliarity with the game. It’s led by a Slytherin girl named Haerin Seong. (It’s properly read as Seong Hae-rin.) She has pin-straight hair, a sharp nose, and the mouth of a drunken sailor.
You also decide that you want to become a professor after Hogwarts. The groundskeeper, Rubeus Hagrid, belly laughs when you declare this to him one afternoon, right in the doorway of his hut. 
“Well, go on then!” Hagrid bellows, patting you on the head. “Anyone who tries ter stop yeh has got ter go through me!” 
On the dawn of your fifth-year, an owl delivers a prefect badge to your doorstep. Your father, born and raised as a Muggle, doesn’t understand the significance of this, but he cries harder than you on that Sunday morning. (“My child is a prefect!” He sobs into the telephone after dialing your aunt’s number.) 
The fresh batch of Ravenclaw firsties aren’t the only new additions to the castle. According to the gossip mill, James and Lily are finally dating, so are Sirius and Remus apparently. (Then, months later, everyone would be shrieking about how they’re all dating. )
You hear of the news as you guide the first-year eaglets to their next class. You’re climbing up the spiral staircase when you see the Quidditch pitch through the window. They look like flying ants from this distance. You can imagine the wind in their hair, the tense muscles as they chase after the Quaffles, the crowd roaring in their ears, victory within their reach if they just fly fast enough. 
You hate the way you envy them—how easily they soar up in the skies while you watch from below, much like a flightless eagle, shackled by your own shortcomings. 
You hate Quidditch.
It’s bound by no rules, unpredictable and barbaric. Most of all, it looks down on the cowardly. 
In your sixth year, you have your first kiss with a boy named Augustine Fenberry. It’s extremely short-lived and awkward. You date for three months until it’s unanimously agreed that you two are better off as friends—until you catch him laughing about you with his mates in an empty corridor, saying that you were clingy, too much, and needed to learn how to shut up. (You wonder if that’s why they grew tired of you, too.) 
You handle him with a quick, “Entomorphis.” 
It’s probably one of the more cruel jinxes; Augustine bawls piercingly as he grows antennas atop his head, the spell forcing him to get on his hands and knees; his friends hover around him in panic, but all Augustine can do is chirp like a grasshopper in the night. You wonder if you’ve gone too far, but Haerin tells you that’s exactly what Augustine is—vermin. 
You also, with great satisfaction, deduct thirty points from his House—which happens to be Ravenclaw. 
(Nobody knows this about Peter, but he’s nimble on his feet, a bit of a wallflower—and he is now the newest editor of Hogwarts’s newspaper column, The Golden Snidget. By the next day, everyone knows what he’s done. Argus Filch, who’s in charge of his month-long detention, should be the last of his worries. Peter sympathizes with the wizard—but only for a fraction of a second. Because it’s not even the werewolf Augustine has to be scared of, not the pureblood heir who could ruin anyone with just a lift of his finger; not the Quidditch prodigy with a sharp mind, knowing a thousand ways to seek revenge. 
It’s Lily Evans. 
“Go near her again and I’ll rip your balls off!” Marlene flips the bird to the group of cowering boys. “Matter of fact, if you treat anyone like that again, I will come for your bloodline.”
“Fucking toerag!” Lily wildly swings the Beater’s bat she had stolen from the Quidditch changing room. “If you even look at her, I’ll hunt you down and shove this up your arse—until you feel it in your throat!” 
Peter shivers in fear. He didn’t ever want to be on the receiving side of Lily’s wrath. 
“This is the same girl who cried for an hour when she saw the ducklings in the Great Lake separated from their mother,” says Remus, horrified. 
“Honestly, I feel so, so conflicted whether to find this terrifying. . . or attractive,” James whispers to Sirius.
“Attractive. Definitely attractive,” Sirius responds breathlessly, all eyes on Lily.)
Gryffindor wins the House Cup that year, to no one’s surprise. You find yourself clapping along with everyone else, but can’t help it when your gaze drifts to the left-side of the Gryffindor table. You watch as Sirius lifts Lily in the air, her giggles somehow louder than the thunderous cheering, pressing a loving kiss to her lips. James stands on the table, encouraging everyone to sing more of his praises—there’s a split second where his eyes find yours, you look away immediately—as Remus covers his face with his palms, flushed from all the attention. After James, Remus had won the most points for their House. 
They seem complete—a puzzle that never really needed another piece. (You miss them, heartachingly so.) Maybe it was for the best that all of you drifted further and further apart. You now forget the way they call your name.  
And so, the story ends just like that. 
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YOU HAVE FOUND yourself in a very tricky position. 
It’s past midnight when you wake up—you nearly scream bloody murder when James, Lily and Sirius materialize out of thin air. They stare back at you, frozen in place, unblinking for the last twenty seconds. 
“Oh God, I’m hallucinating.” You cry to yourself, wrapping your arms around your waist. “I hit my head and now I’m seeing things.” 
“No, no, no, no,” James stammers, shaking his head. “It’s an invisibility cloak—see?” He wears the cape, then abruptly takes the cloak off—his body disappearing and reappearing in time with his actions. “Not hallucinating, I promise.” 
“That’s even worse,” You say hoarsely, on the verge of hyperventilating. “Y-You’re out past curfew—visiting hours are over. Someone could catch you. Madam Pomfrey will have your heads.” 
Remus chuckles—he had missed your voice so bloody much. He barely contains his grin when you glare at him. (Finally, after three years, you look his way again.) 
“We snuck in here to see you all the time,” Sirius tells you, the corner of his lips tipping into an overfond smile. “At some point, Poppy just stopped trying to keep us out.” 
“Yeah, I guess.” Your gaze falls to the floor as you mousily toy with your fingers. The infirmary falls painfully silent. Again. You clear your throat. “Anyway, I–I should get going.” 
“Oh.” Lily’s expression turns crestfallen, words cracking from the thick lump wedged in her throat. (This is the first conversation she’s had with you in years—one that isn’t awkwardly bumping into one another with shallow, hesitant greetings, before you scurry off like a timid squirrel.) “R-Right. But why don’t you have dinner first? We brought some from the feast and—” 
“Thanks, but I’m not hungry,” You rasp, slipping into your shoes and throwing your cardigan over your shoulders. (More than anything, you want to hug Lily and congratulate her for making Head Girl—but you have to wonder if it’s too little, too late; if the distance between you and her is too great to try and  cross.) 
You toss Remus a wary glance. There used to be a time where you could say anything to him, and now it feels like ice-cold hands are stapled over your mouth. “F–Feel better soon.” 
“Thanks.” Remus coughs. 
Sirius’s eyes bounce from you to Remus, mentally ripping his hair out from exasperation—this whole thing is going nowhere. 
You sprint out of the infirmary without a word, hands trembling from the nerve-wracking encounter inside. You take a moment to catch your breath, to shove your heart back inside your ribcage, as you lean sideways on the wall. It’s like running into a pack of wild chimeras in the mountains bare-handed. 
“That was so scary.” You breathe out deeply, clutching the front of your shirt tightly. 
The loud call of your name slices through the hallway and you jump in fright. 
Luckily, it’s just James—but just James sets your heart aflutter and your knees wobbly even after all this time. He bridges the gap between you in quick, long strides; murmuring your name once more like a prayer. “Hey,” James says quietly, as if afraid to spook you off. 
You gnaw on your bottom lip anxiously, tucking your hands inside your pockets. “Hey.”
“Listen, I just wanted to say—back in the library, all those years ago. I’m sorry. Really bloody sorry. Sirius decked me in the face that day, which I definitely deserved.” James nervously scratches the back of his head. “It was stupid of me—and I never should have said any of those things. I know it’s been years since then, you don’t even have to forgive me. But I just wanted you to know—”
“It’s fine, James.” You cut into his rambling, having already forgiven him for that day. “Really. Water under the bridge.” 
In fact, some of what he had said made you realize how much you isolated yourself without even knowing. “And, I—uhm.” You take a deep breath. “I’m sorry, too.” 
James widens his eyes, then instantly shakes his head. “It’s alright. You’re alright.”
A dark red blush spreads from his neck to his prettily carved cheeks.  “So. .  . uh. . . are we okay?” 
“We’re okay,” You say and he exhales deeply in relief. “And James, I. . . I. . .”
“Yeah?” There’s a hopeful lilt in his voice as he takes one more step towards you—achingly patient, but there’s a sense of urgency and desperation. 
“I—” You look away and the words fizzle out in your throat. “Never mind.” 
I just wanted to say I’m sorry for what I said that day. I miss you more than life. Thank you for staying by my side all those years—for being one of my best friends. You make me feel safe, James Potter. You are one of the most intelligent and caring wizards I know. How  anyone can think otherwise is baffling to me. I’m sorry if I don’t let you know that more often. 
“See you around, James.” With that, you turn and leave. 
Perhaps, some things are better left unsaid. 
(So why is your heart shattering into a million pieces?) 
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“TODAY, WE ARE GOING TO be interpreting messages from the divine!” 
On a lovely Friday morning, Professor Nasenyana drags the class out to the grounds for a hands-on Divination lecture, the groundskeeper’s hut within sight. He unlocks the barn nearby, where flocks of various bird species take to the skies instantly. He’s a rather eccentric fellow with one of the friendliest smiles you’ve ever seen. Most of the Ravenclaws are also star-struck, hanging onto his every word. As it turns out, Nasenyana is a graduate from Uagadou, the top school for Astronomy and Divination.
“Ornithomancy—!” He proclaims, flashy cloak billowing, startling some of the Gryffindors from their sleep. “It is a form of divination that looks into the behavior of birds—celestial creatures blessed with the ability to traverse through the heavens and the earth. But, you see, it is more than that. It requires utmost concentration and mastery. To pass this class, you will need to—” 
“I told you we didn’t miss anything important!” 
“Pads, shut up.” 
Sirius and Remus come rolling down the hill. Remus’s robes are disheveled, whereas Sirius’s tie is loosely hanging around his shirt, sleeves folded up. They nearly crash into Professor Nasenyana—who doesn’t appear to be pleased with their tardiness. You notice Remus’s flushed cheeks, the sweat running down the sides of his forehead, and the pinkish bruises on the column of Sirius’s neck. 
Lily chortles. 
Oh. 
You blush deeply—that is so none of your business. 
“Mister Black! Mister Lupin! So nice of you to finally join us.” Professor Nasenyana exclaims. “I trust that it won’t take you thirty more minutes to find a place to sit?” He gestures to the assembly of students sitting down on the grass, some shielding the sunlight from their face with the Divination textbook, and others transfiguring their school robes into a picnic mat. “Take your seats, gentlemen.” 
“And that is five points from Gryffindor. Each.” Professor Nasenyana declares just as Remus and Sirius plop down on the closest patch of grass to them. 
Which happens to be right beside you. 
You pour all your attention on the teacher, and not how warm Sirius feels next to you. 
“As I was saying,” Professor Nasenyana continues, hands folded behind his back, eyes gleaming with anticipation. “In order to pass this class, you will form groups of three where your task is to read each other’s fortune based on the information presented to you and document your findings. Everything you need for interpretation is in your textbooks. You will hand this assignment in after the winter holidays. I expect excellence from each and every one of you. Failure to comply will result in a Dreadful.” 
Gilderoy’s arm shoots up in the air. 
“Shall I guess your question, Mister Lockhart?” Nasenyana grins blindingly. “Your groups will be determined by fate—those closest to you will read your fortune, and you theirs.” 
He lowers his arm with a bright blush. 
You, however, are frozen in place, sitting cross-legged on the ground with a robe strewn over your lap—you even hold your breath from the shock. Fate must be mocking you right now. Spending the next few weeks in close proximity with the boys who held your fragile, little heart in their hands.
How fun.
Not.
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FOR THE FIRST TIME in forever, you don’t pay attention in Charms.
The thought of working with Remus and Sirius haunts you so much that you burrow your head in your arms for the entirety of Professor Flitwick’s lesson. Your seatmate, Xenophilius, watches in horror as you flub the enunciation for Ascendio. Thankfully, no one is accidentally flung into the air—except for Gilderoy who is unfortunately blown away from his chair.
“Sorry.” You twinge empathetically as he climbs back onto his chair, glaring at you. 
Xenophilius nudges your shoulder, whispering, “Are you alright?” 
“Perfectly fine,” You respond hurriedly, almost choking on your spit. “What ever gave you the idea that I was not fine? I’m bloody fantastic even. The sun is shining, fishes are swimming, and there’s not a single thing out of the ordinary in my life.” 
“It’s cloudy outside,” Xenophilius says impassively. “And Lockhart is looking at you like you’ve just attempted murder.” 
“Lockhart always looks like that.” You brush him off with a wave, busying yourself with flipping the pages of your Charms textbook. 
Xenophilius pokes you in the side. “You are avoiding the subject. Is it because of Lup—”
“Ascendio!” 
This time, it’s too perfect of an incantation that even Merlin weeps from his grave.
At the end of class, you’re greeted with yet another surprise. Just as you leave the classroom, you find Sirius and Remus standing in the corridor, so absorbed in conversation that they don’t notice the sixth-year girls giggling as they walk by—either that, or they have had plenty of practice when it comes to  ignoring attention from the entire student body. It’s not like you can blame everyone else—they’re a duo carved by heaven’s finest. 
Sirius realizes instantly when you walk out of the doors. He smiles blazingly at you, instantly rising to his feet, hands shoved inside the pockets of his trousers. You can’t believe this is the same boy who’d give you piggyback rides down the hallway. Dark layered curls tumble messily past his shoulders, a smidge of dark liner around his eyes, multiple piercings in his left ear. He’s grown taller, certainly more confident, too. 
“Ready to go, pet?” He asks, as if casually inquiring about the weather. 
“Go?” You echo, nonplussed. “Go where?” 
“Birdwatching, obviously.” Sirius grins devilishly before grabbing your hand and leading you to the courtyard, Remus hot on your heels—who, for some reason, now has your bag hanging from his shoulders. 
“D-Do I even get a say in this?” Truthfully, you had thought that you could finish the project without meeting up. Ever. You even think of collaborating with them via owl; staying far, far away from one another. So that none of you get hurt again, and you don’t risk another heartbreak. 
“Not one bit, darling.” Sirius looks back at you and winks—this cheeky bastard!
You’re in a daze by the time the three of you reach the middle courtyard. Sirius happily plonks down under a tree, further unbuttoning his shirt until a hint of a tattoo peeks out—you gape. Remus chuckles before urging you to sit as well, before he settles on your other side. 
“This is nice,” says Sirius as he leans his head against the tree trunk, eyes closed. “Bloody missed this.” 
“Missed what?” You dare to ask, heart hammering in your chest. 
He opens one eye, cheek dimple flashing. “Being by your side.” 
“Oh.” 
One does not respond to that, actually. One just simply passes out and fades away. 
And as you typically do when facing hardships in life, you ramble about homework. Clearing your throat and staring straight at the earthworms crawling out of the mud, you say, “So, about our project. . .” 
“I was thinking we could get started on it next Saturday,” You splutter, fiddling with your fingers. “Or I could start on everyone’s reading and we’d put it on paper sometime next month—but I could do that myself, too. I-If you wanted. Just so that it’s easier for everyone. We really don’t have to rush, honestly.” 
“Procrastinating on schoolwork?” Remus laughs heartily with a slow shake of his head, stretching his long legs on the ground. “Who are you and what have you done to our best fr—” 
The word falters on his tongue, and his smile fades into a somber line. 
To save everyone from the awkward tension, you carry on, ignoring the way Sirius stiffens, “If you want to start early, I can head to the library after lunch to find some books on Ornithomancy. The more references we have—”
“What happened to us?” Sirius interjects gravelly. 
You let out a deep sigh. 
You suppose this conversation has been a long time coming, given lions and their stubbornness. 
“It’s simple,” You say gingerly. “After that. . . that day, the distance kept growing and growing until we went our own separate ways without looking back.” 
A single teardrop slides down your cheek before you can stop it. “You changed. I changed, too. The difference was, you all had each other while I had no one.”
(Though Pandora and Xenophilius were the truest and most honest friends one could ask for, they didn’t hold your soul captive the way they did.) 
Sirius stares at you as if you had just spit acid; a thunderstorm forming within his gray eyes, his jaw locking painfully. 
“You don’t really believe that, do you?” Remus asks softly, leaning forward to offer you his handkerchief. His voice sounds strangled—as though your words physically torment him. He pulls away just as your gaze falls on his. 
“That’s what happened, though. But I suppose it doesn’t really even matter anymore.” You flinch away, electrocuted from his touch. 
There’s a stretched silence that blankets the three of you. It carries on for a few minutes, the breeze flowing by, and the slow, clamorous bell chiming in the distance. You’re about to speak up when Sirius breaks the quietude first.
“Be ready,” He says decidedly, looking straight ahead. 
“For what?” You ask in disbelief. 
Sirius drags a hand through his hair with a loud exhale. He rests his elbows on his knees, chin carelessly set on his palm, eyeing you intensely. “We’re going to prove you wrong from now on.” 
“What exactly are you going to prove?” 
Sirius chuckles, coiling a strand of your hair around his finger. “That it’s always been you and us for life, princess.” 
Merlin’s saggy balls. 
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THE GRYFFINDOR TABLE descends into a coalescence of wide eyes and rapid, hushed whispers when you arrive sometime during dinner. It’s not out of your own volition, of course, but your own duty and responsibility as prefect to return the handkerchief that Remus had lent you earlier this afternoon. You hoped it would be a quick in-and-out; dishing out more forced smiles, and some half-baked banter until you could finally run away, tail tucked between your legs. Like most things in your life, it does not go the way you want. 
“You could keep it, if you want,” says Remus, hesitantly taking the embroidered cloth from you. 
If the world knew how many trinkets Remus Lupin had gifted you during your friendship, you would be swimming in gold—and cursed letters from his devoted fangirls. 
“That’s alright. Thank you.” You placate him with a crooked grin, the words spilling from your lips like a jumbled mess. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Gideon and Fabian Prewett nudging each other’s shoulders whilst pointing at you, keeping their heads low. You have no idea what that’s about. 
“Well. That is all. E-Enjoy your dinner.” You nod, mentally patting yourself on the back for not passing out in the den of lions. “Goodbye.” 
Though the Ravenclaw table is placed next to Gryffindor’s, you have the bright idea of sitting with your backs to them, lest you engage in a round of cloddish staring contests with the Marauders. Just as you pivot on your heels, ready to make it to Pandora’s side, an achingly familiar voice calls for your name. 
“Wait!” Marlene is partially out of her seat, bright blonde hair in a loose, messy braid; hand outstretched, as if reaching out to you. Her pale cheeks blossom with shades of scarlet as she receives miffed glares from the students nearby—such is the curse of a Gryffindor; if this were a fantasy novel, they would be the perfect protagonist. “Why don’t you eat with us? F-For old time’s sake. It’s been so long and I really would like to catch up with you.” 
Your resolve nearly crumbles. This is the same girl who would bring sweet candies in her pocket in case you got hungry during class. But, if this were a fantasy novel, you would only be an extra; fated to walk a path so different from the likes of James Potter and Lily Evans.
“Maybe next time,” You say, unconvincing to even your own ears. 
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FROM ACROSS the Great Hall, another conversation is taking place. 
“I am telling you, Minerva, I caught them talking again in the infirmary,” says Poppy Pomfrey to her fellow teacher, a spry grin on her kind face. 
“Poppy, as I’ve told you, I do not make a habit out of discussing my students’ personal lives,” McGonagall replies tiredly, slicing into her dinner plate of steak and kidney pie. She pauses for a few moments, before pushing up her spectacles with a wrinkly smile. “But, perhaps, I’ll let this slide just this once. Tell me all about it. I’ve also heard that—” 
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“ACTA NON VERBA.”
Deeds, not words. 
Truly a befitting password for the House of bravery and recklessness. The Fat Lady’s portrait gasps in delight, raising her champagne glass to you. Seconds later, the Gryffindor common room is revealed to you. (Most of the Ravenclaw prefects have the House passwords memorized, in case they encounter a lost student outside the dormitories who has forgotten the passcode. It happens more often than one would like. Although it isn’t just first-years who are often stuck outside. You’ve stumbled upon Frank Longbottom many times before in a heated argument with the Fat Lady.) 
“Oh!” Alice, bundled up in a red scarf and a wooly jumper, is startled to find you at the entrance. She breathily says your name, eyes crinkling as she smiles widely. “What a pleasant surprise! Oh my Gods—it’s so nice to see you again. How’s the head? Last time I saw you, you were bleeding everywhere.”
“I didn’t get amnesia. So that was good.” You head inside the room, instantly enveloped in a familiar warmth, a welcoming hug as if you had never strayed far. “Thank you. For that day, I mean. For bringing me to Madam Pomfrey.”
She waves you off. “Don’t mention it.” 
“But. . .” Alice cocks her head with a conniving smile. “Don’t tell anyone else this, but when James found out it had been the Gryffindor team’s co-captain who hit the Quaffle your way, I heard James put him through some intense training. He must’ve had to run a hundred laps around the pitch for a week straight.  Poor guy even had to wash everyone’s jerseys without magic.” 
“What?” You shriek. “But it was just an accident. Surely, James wouldn’t—”
Alice tweaks your nose with a chuckle. “Oh, for you? He would.”
You have the strangest urge to throw yourself out of the tower. 
You cough into your first, desperate to shift the conversation topic otherwise you’d spontaneously combust. “S-So, where’s Remus? We agreed to work on our Divination project here—if that’s alright with you and the others, of course.” 
“Ha!” Alice exclaims, palming her forehead. “So that’s why the tower stinks of flipping perfume.” She snickers at your bewildered expression, before engulfing you in a bear hug. “It’s so good to see you. You’re welcome here anytime, you know that.”
“Thank you, Alice.” You squeeze her back, giving yourself just this one time because you really did miss her.
Alice takes a step backwards before roaring loud enough to shake the ceiling. “Remus!”
“Get down here! Your girlfriend is waiting!”
You break out in a coughing fit. “I am not his girlfriend.” 
“Not yet.” Alice winks at you, patting your cheek before skipping out the common room. 
You hear the heavy footfalls of someone coming down the stairs. Moments later, you see Remus Lupin beaming at you, casually dressed, hair damp and tousled over his brows, broad shoulders stretching his white top, and fluffy, mismatched socks over his feet. He walks over to you in record speed. 
“You came,” He says huskily. 
“I did.” 
“You look beautiful today.” Remus grins wolfishly, dimples poking out of his cheeks, flecks of light in his hazel eyes. 
You blink owlishly, dumbfounded. You peer at your clothes—nothing fancy or experimental. “This is how I normally dress, though.” 
“I know.” 
Remus smiles, swiftly taking your bookbag from you. (Alice was right. He smells like a basket of green apples, old leather tomes, and sandalwood. Not that you mind.) You follow him to the couches by the fireplace. 
“Where’s Sirius?” You look around the common room as you sink into the red sofa. There’s a pair of third-years playing chess, a young girl feathering her hand across the bookcase; sunlight streaming in from the tall windows. 
But no sign of Sirius Black. 
“Miss me, did you, love?” 
Sirius chuckles into your ear—you jump out of your skin, clutching at your knees in fright. 
“Merlin’s tits—!” 
You gasp for air while Sirius and Remus laugh at your expense. “You fucking wanker!” You grab one of the quilted pillows as Sirius jumps over the back of the couch. “You’re an idiot, Sirius Orion.” 
“There.” Sirius flops right down on the sofa; his hair tied up in a low bun, silver rings around his fingers. “Now you don’t look so bloody scared and nervous around us. We don’t bite, you know.” He pauses, then grins devilishly at you. “Unless you ask.” 
You slap your palms against your lap. “Anyways—!” 
Nostrils flaring as you take a deep breath—this is going to be a long day. You begin setting the parchments, feather quills, and Divination textbooks on the coffee table, along with a notebook where you had written some observations during the week. “When we were out—erm—birdwatching the other day, I noted down the birds that flew by for our readings. For Remus, it was a flock of Firecrests. And—” 
“I’m very sorry, loveliest love, but none of this makes any bloody sense to me.” Sirius goes through the Divination volumes you had checked out from the library, wrinkling his nose in distaste. “Tea reading, I can tolerate. But studying bird droppings really isn’t my thing.” 
You glare heatedly at him, oddly defensive about the subject. “We’re not studying bird droppings, you plonker. There’s so much more to Ornithomancy than what meets the eyes. You see, nature connects everything. From the number of birds you encounter, to which direction they fly, their pattern of flight, down to the colors of their wings.” 
You point to the glaring page from Snallygasters and Omens: Vol. 1 where a picture of a Jobberknoll jumps out. “This bird flies to the east because the east governs new beginnings and warm springs after winter. Blue wings symbolize reliability. One day in the future you’ll be tasked with a huge responsibility. A family could entrust their godson to you, who knows? You have to be clear-headed, Sirius. Your emotions can get the best of you if you’re not careful.” 
Without even pausing to breathe, you say, “Remus. The firecrest. Smallest bird in the wizarding world, but will dare to fly higher than any other creature, even the king of birds. The firecrest and its flock were flying to the south that day, Remus. To the place of passion and life. Love. Beauty.” 
“So it’s. . . it’s more than just bird droppings!” 
By the end of it all, your chest is heaving, fingers trembling with adrenaline; Remus and Sirius gazing at you with stars in their eyes, devotion pouring from their growing smiles. (Oh, how their hearts beat for you.) 
Sirius tips your chin with his knuckle, leaning closer until you feel his breath on your nose. “Welcome back, princess.”
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NIGHT FALLS WITHOUT anyone’s permission. James, Lily, and Peter make their way back to the Gryffindor tower, patches of sunburn on their nose after spending the entire day outside observing bird flight patterns. Like Sirius, Lily has her mind firmly set against the philosophies of Divination; the mumbo jumbo not really all that comprehensible to her. As they enter the common room, her hand in James’s, they’re greeted by a rare sight—one that Lily didn’t think she would see again. 
Sirius is sitting on the floor by the fireplace, wand tucked behind his ear, a pile of books at his side, his brows contorted in frustration as he drowns in the pages of When Fortunes Turn Fowl. He presses his finger to his lips when his silvery eyes fall on Lily and James, jerking his head to the scene across him. 
Lily fails to bury her smile when she sees you snoring away at Remus’s lap, his fingers absentmindedly knitting through strands of your hair. The space is bedecked in loose pages with scribbled notes on them and ink stains on the carpet. 
“I take it you three got further along than we did,” Lily whispers as she kneels beside Remus, softly nudging his chin as she captures him in a fond kiss. 
Remus smiles into her lips. “A month’s worth of progress, at least. Thanks to this one here. I don’t think I’ll ever look at a bird the same way again.” 
“Who knew our little eagle had a knack for Divination?” Lily chuckles, gaze softening as she delicately drags her knuckle down your cheek. “It’s getting pretty late. Should we wake her up?” 
Remus shakes his head. “No. Let her sleep a bit more.” 
Selfishly, Lily agrees. She traces the tip of your nose, the pillows of your lips, before retracting her hand with a long sigh. “We used to talk about anything and everything until the sun rose. Now, it seems like I can never catch up to her no matter how fast I run.”
“Lily—” 
“Don’t worry,” says Lily. “I am nothing if not stubborn. She’ll know my wrath soon.” 
Sirius snickers. “How charming.” 
The fire crackles and you mumble something, deep in slumber, shifting in Remus’s hold, “Only one percent. . . of the world’s population is . . . is naturally redheaded.” 
“Is that right?” Lily grins from ear to ear. 
Just you wait, Lily is going to sweep you off your feet.
(Something she should have done years ago.) 
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“IS THAT A new jumper?”
Pandora simpers knowingly, heterochromatic eyes uncovering your every secret—the beads in her long braids click as she keeps in time with your brisk pace. She teasingly pulls at the oversized sweater. “It looks good on you.” 
You narrow your eyes at her, watchfully twisting your arms around your waist. “It was cold this morning, alright? Remus lent it to me. It’s not a big deal. It’s what friends do, right?” 
“So, you’re friends now?” Pandora muses. “Well, thank the Gods, because it has been excruciating watching you tiptoe around one another. It only took you lot three years, but it’s better than never, eh?” 
“Wilderwood! No magic in the corridors! That’s five points from Slytherin!” You bark at the stubborn fifth-year who grins sheepishly at you, before you reply to Pandora, an ache forming at the back of your head. “It’s complicated. Everything was sort of awkward in the beginning.” 
You think of last night, how Sirius was especially keen on making you laugh every few seconds; Remus would inch closer to you, head nearly on your shoulder as he peeks at the notes you’ve jotted down. You could barely think straight in their presence. Then, you remember waking up earlier this morning, James sprawled all over Sirius and Lily on the couch; Remus’s nose fully buried in his drawing book.
“But. . .” You trail off, remembering Remus’s arms around you as he sent you off, careful not to wake the others. (“I am a selfish bastard, pet,” He whispers into your hair, “I’m sorry, but let me steal this morning from them.”)
“It’s like coming home after a long day.”
“Brilliant!” Pandora exclaims, roughly laying her hands on your shoulders as she ushers you past the cobblestone walkway and into the grassfield, where the Quidditch Pitch rests in the near distance. You hadn’t even realized that you were a little ways from the castle already. “Tell them that!” 
“What?” You squawk. “Are you mad, woman?”
You hear the sound of brooms zipping by at an unimaginable speed. The crowd clamors over the announcer’s intense commentary. Your legs feel like they’ve been jinxed to feel like jelly. You hate Quidditch. 
“GRYFFINDOR SCORES! — That’s one-hundred and twenty in all! — Still no snitch yet! Hurry on, Potter! Mulciber’s got nothing on you– Ow! Professor! — Fawley heads for the goal! — Great deflect by Black! — Bletchley misses! — Another point for Gryffindor! We might as well end the game now!”
“Mr. Prewett!” You hear McGonagall scold into the charmed megaphone. 
“Sorry, Minnie! Anyway! — Mulciber and Potter race for the Snitch! Potter reaches out! — Surprisingly good manoeuvre from Mulciber! — Come on, James! — He’s almost got it! — It’s right there!”
You wait with a bated breath.
The crowd goes absolutely wild.
“Potter’s got it! — GRYFFINDOR HAS WON!” 
“Go on now, treasure. Before the Wrackspurts get inside your head again.” Pandora urges you forward, dusting the invisible creatures off your shoulders. As you take one step into the field, fireworks of gold and scarlet light up the sky, the Gryffindor teams’ cries of victory shake the ground; you hear Fabian screaming into the megaphone. Your fingers go numb. “Don’t let another day go by without expressing your heart,” says Pandora into your ear, almost a gust of wind if you hadn’t been paying attention. “Go to them. They are waiting for you.”
“But what if they aren’t?” You watch as the sun descends on the Gryffindor team lifting James in the air, Golden Snitch in his gloved hand. Sirius catches Lily by the waist, twirling her up high; her smile more dazzling than any other gem you’ve seen. As James is set back down on the ground, he snatches Remus unaware and bends him down for a fervent kiss.
“Dora, what if I’m the only one who feels this way? I can’t do that to them. What are the chances that I’ll ruin everything? That would hurt more than anything.”
Pandora cups your cheeks and lays her forehead on yours. “You won’t ever know unless you go out there.”
With that, she pushes you into the Quidditch pitch. 
You swallow the lump in your throat, ears ringing from the crowd chanting James’s name, and your heart pounding in fear. 
“J-James. . .” You call out weakly as he drowns in the sea of students.
Perhaps it’s a sign.
This really wasn’t a good idea.
Love is a fool’s game.
Don’t you get it? They don’t need you in the picture at all.
“N-No!” You shout, chest heaving. If everything happens for a reason, maybe you were meant to meet in that train compartment all those years ago. You’ve lost three years with them already.
If you don’t go to them right now, you could lose a lifetime. 
If bravery is for the reckless and arrogant, you’re prepared to be the most depraved witch in the castle just to stay by their side. 
“James—!”
“Go, go, Gryffindor!”
You bite your lip in frustration—but you can’t just give up. Not now. 
Once more.
“JAMES FLEAMONT POTTER!”
Please.
Time stops as you stand at the edge of the field; James whips his head around and finds you instantly. The glow of having just won a match doesn’t even compare when his eyes land on you. He pushes past his team members and some of the Gryffindor students, his gaze unwavering, some of them call out his name but he doesn’t bother looking back. Before you even know it, he stands in front of you, breathing heavily—but not from the rush of the game.
“You’re here,” He says, eyes disappearing into his smile. “But you hate Quidditch.”
“I do.” You grin wearily. “But I love you more.”
Without even giving James the chance to speak, you ramble on, hurricanes whirling in your stomach, “You’re a bloody brilliant wizard, James Potter. I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you that before. I see you. I see all of you. How could I not? I love you. I think I’ve loved all of you before I knew it was even love. It’s alright if you don’t feel the same w—” 
James grabs the back of your legs and hoists you up, tendrils of hair falling over his glasses as he beams at you. The sun can’t even dream of competing with him. 
“Put me down, James, I am going to hurl—!”
He spins you one more time for good measure before placing you on the ground. James barely gives you a second to gather your bearings as he seizes your lips with his own, hand cradling the back of your neck. 
“You’re here,” He says, unable to believe his very eyes, gently chasing after your lips, breaths mingling until you don’t remember where either begins or ends. “Don’t leave. Please.”
“I won’t. I won’t.” You promise breathlessly as James pecks the tip of your nose, the arch of your eyes. “I’m not going anywhere.”
“Beautiful.” He kisses you until you’re gasping for air. “And all ours.” 
There’s not a moment where you don’t feel loved, not even when he lets you go, and it’s Lily who encompasses you in her arms, bright hair filling your vision; you willingly burn in the warmth of her body. The mellow scent of pomegranates and red roses fill your nose. You see a never-ending horizon of kindness in her emerald eyes. (How could you have stayed away for so long?) It’s like finding a missing piece of your soul that you never knew that was lost. 
Lily laughs—it sounds like an orchestral symphony. Her gaze cascades to your lips, the prettiest of smiles on her face; she cradles the curve of your jaw with utmost sincerity, a few drops of tears shimmering against her freckled skin. “May I?”
“Please.” You feel her breath tickling your lips, deftly pulling you in for a kiss until all you can feel is her. She consumes every inch of you, and you are happy to surrender, heart and soul. 
“You must be the thickest Ravenclaw I’ve ever met,” says Lily, giggling as she kisses you once, twice—thrice. 
“And that means?” You scoff lightheartedly. 
She steals another kiss from you. “That means: I hope you know that we have loved you ever since, you daft witch. That I’ve loved you all this time. And now that you’re ours, we are going to make sure you remember that. Every single day for the rest of our lives.” 
You smile, holding onto her hand, dizzy with a hundred emotions. “I wouldn’t have it any other way.” 
(Your Divination project is a point lower than Lily, Peter and James’s, but you find that it’s the luckiest fortune you’ve ever had.) 
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EPILOGUE:
“I LOVE QUIDDITCH!” 
You are twenty-two years old, nose bitten from the chilly air, lounging in the best seating area the Quidditch World Cup has to offer; an unobstructed view of the players. The match is between the Brazilian and Japanese National Quidditch teams. Much to Sirius and James’s chagrin, your cheek is painted in yellow and green stripes, the vibrant flag around your shoulders. 
You scream along with the crowd, nearly spilling your Butterbeer popcorn, as the Brazilian players enter the vast stadium. You ardently shake Lily’s shoulders. “That’s him! That’s him! Lily, it’s Brazil’s youngest ever Seeker! Vinícius Silva! I watched a replay of his matches and he’s got a seventy-eight percent win rate!”
“Watch out, love, you’ll fall off the edge if you aren’t careful,” Lily says worriedly.
“His fastest record for catching the Golden Snitch is ten minutes and thirty seconds! He’s won Most Outstanding Player in the Junior Division twice! I’ve got a good feeling about this team—I knew those auguries were a lucky sign.” 
“The only Seeker you should be obsessing over is me.” You hear James grumbling behind your back, stealing a kiss from Lily’s lips before pressing his mouth to your cheek. “And you bloody well know that Japan’s Chaser, Kurosawa, is going to steal the limelight in this match. An average possession time of thirty seconds per play. A beast, that one.” 
You wave him off, more confident in your statistics. “Did you place my bets? I’m telling you, we’re going to be rich.” 
“Yes, darling,” He says, utterly loving his role as the dutiful husband. 
Moments later, Sirius appears at his side, fussing over your scarf, and kissing you just because. “Can we take off your bloody hat now? I think you just blinded Malfoy and his little blonde gremlin.” 
“Isn’t that a good thing?” You simper fiendishly before smacking his arm. “And don’t call your nephew that.” 
Sirius grins.
You pull at one of his curls. “Besides, if you’re good you can take off everything later tonight.”
He pulls you in for a deep kiss, hand at your waist, nose brushing each other’s. “And that is why I love you, dear wife.” 
You pout, albeit seeing right through his white, little jape. “Truly?” 
Sirius lands another kiss to your forehead. “Are you doubting me, loveliest love of my life? The lighthouse in my ocean storms. The apple of my eye. Fire in my loins—”
You slap a hand over his mouth. “I get it, thank you, my love.” 
Sirius beams from ear to ear. “Glad to have eased your doubts, darling.”
Thirty minutes into the match, Remus arrives, dressed in a muted gray suit, light brown hair flopping over his eyes. He greets everyone with a tired kiss. 
You immediately wrap him in a hug, nuzzling your nose into his neck. He had a particularly difficult full moon some nights ago. You press a tender kiss to the scar right below his jaw. “How was work? Did you bring my binder? It has my lesson plan for next week, I don’t want to return to the castle unprepared, and—”
The newest Defense Against the Dark Arts professor squeezes your waist. “Work was fine, pet. And no, I didn’t bring the papers because right now we are not working. We are going to watch Brazil win the bloody match and get right home to Harry after.” 
You, the newest Divination teacher of Hogwarts, tug him by his necktie, smiling coyly. “Sounds like a wonderful plan to me.” 
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BONUS: 
“REMUS!”
The empty classroom is filled with soft, fervid moans—two professors especially drunk on the taste of each other’s lips. You’re seated on the desk, Remus wedged between your thighs, his hand inching dangerously higher and higher; the other hand slipping under your shirt and thumbing the bare skin underneath. He captures your whispers and mewls with his lips. Jackets and ties are tossed carelessly to the side. 
“So fucking beautiful.” He nips at your lower lip. 
“Rem. . .” You whimper, tugging at the strands of his hair. “Remus—please!” 
The door to the DADA classroom slams open and you two detangle from each other’s embrace in record speed. As you pat down your hair, Remus draping his blazer over your shoulders, you watch Lily and Harry stalk over to you in lengthy strides, reaching the both of you within seconds. You clear your throat, awkwardly averting your gaze from your son’s precious eyes; Lily, a moment away from throwing her head back in laughter. 
Harry, fourteen, and not at all ignorant to what couples do in the castle alcoves, sees the ruffled hair, the lipstick over his father’s cheeks and neck, and his parent’s misbuttoned blouse. 
He grimaces. “You two are disgusting, you know that right?” 
You guffaw, pinching his cheek. “Now, is that any way to greet the person who’s changed your diapers since you were a baby?” 
Lily cackles from Remus’s side, fixing the collar of his shirt. “Harry’s got a bit of a problem. Go on, tell them, my love.” 
Harry immediately throws his hands in the air, groaning frustratedly. “It’s Ron! He thinks I put my name in the bloody Goblet—!” 
“Which, I will still be having a word with Dumbledore about,” You say decisively. You’re not about to endanger your son. The Minister of Magic and the Headmaster be damned. They can also take it up with your husband, James, Head Auror of the Magical Law Enforcement department. 
“And now Ron’s not talking to me, Hermione’s not talking to me because I’m not talking to Ron—Colin’s following me around everywhere I go! I’m going mad, mum!” Harry slumps on one of the empty chairs, huffing. “Stupid bloody tournament.” 
You chuckle as you walk over to him, feeling an odd sense of déjà vu. “Take it from me.” You press a warm kiss to his forehead. “Talk to them, otherwise you’ll lose time that was meant to be spent together. It doesn’t matter who was wrong or who was right. It’s important that you have the courage to reach out. They’re your friends. They will understand your heart soon enough.” 
Harry blinks. “Thanks.” 
He exits the classroom in a daze, heavily pondering on your words. 
The door clicks shut, and Lily wordlessly locks the entrance. She turns to you and Remus, a sultry grin on her ruby red lips. “What are the chances we Floo home, and invite Sirius and James to join us?” 
You take her outstretched hand. “A hundred and twelve.”
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a/n. i wasn't satisfied with the angst here.. so expect a hufflepuff!reader and enemies to lovers next time (i promise to do better in the next fic aaakfsh) tell me what u thought of this one EUEUEU HOPE YOU ENJOYED THIS FIC!! heart heart
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redsandsshoes · 27 days ago
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Stop. That's such a haunting description of a place. I'm actually obsessed.
the too blue sky and too green grass and decaying castle and decaying robes and a graveyard of brooms and a graveyard of familiars.(I had to stop for a moment and put my head in my hands after that one). I'm so obsessed.
With the I've broken 206 things that i love . twice.
with the "it's not as bad as it seems, you can sacrifice a little more for the normalcy you remember". (I'm visibly shaking)
With the people that are like "to be what I remember I destroy the things I love"
I am obsessed. I will never recover. That was haunting and beautiful and mesmerising and so so heartbreaking.
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theostrophywife · 4 months ago
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thinking about theo glaring at you while you argue with him, pouting and crossing your arms about something so trivial. you know that you’re making a scene in front of all your friends, but you didn’t care one bit. this is what theo gets for telling you no.
theo never told you no. you were his pampered little princess, so used to getting his affection and attention any time you wanted it. but now, he was making you wait until after quidditch practice? that wouldn’t do.
so, you put on your tightest crop top and shortest skirt, making a show of chatting up fred weasley out on the field. theo spotted you right away, his jaw clenching as you threw your head back and laughed at whatever that redheaded twat said. it wasn’t long before theo landed beside you, discarding his broom on the grass like it wasn't worth a couple hundred galleons.
your boyfriend shoved fred out of the way and loomed over you. “you’re playing a dangerous game, principessa.”
you huffed, tossing your hair over your shoulder. “you’re the one playing games, theo. fred was only keeping me company because you’re too busy practicing to pay attention to your girlfriend.”
“you’re being a fucking brat and you know it.”
“so?” you challenged, tilting your chin up to glare at him. “what are you going to do about it, theo?”
the taunt didn’t sit well with your boyfriend. without a word, theo dragged you underneath the stands, pressing you against the wooden poles. you squirmed as he caged you in, squeezing your thighs together as theo yanked you by the hair. you whined, pupils dilating from how turned on you were.
“you wanted my attention,” theo growled as his fingers wrapped around your throat. “now you’ve got it.”
you smirked in return, having gotten exactly what you wanted. theo was incensed at the sight of your gloating. “don’t look so smug, bella. i’m going to make you pay for your attitude.”
theo traced your jaw before reeling back and smacking your cheek. you could already see the red handprint bruising your face. the force of it stunned you, but more importantly, it made your core ache, your pussy throbbing and aching for him. your boyfriend smirked, knowing he had the upper hand now.
“open,” he commanded.
you kept your eyes on him as you parted your lips, eagerly awaiting his punishment. theo spit into your open mouth, wet and messy as he claimed you with the degrading gesture.
“swallow,” theo said simply.
shivering at the show of dominance, you did as you were told. theo’s eyes darkened with lust, filled with a hunger that you’ve never seen from him before.
“that’s what I fucking thought.”
theo unbuckled his pants, dropping them around his ankles before roughly shoving your skirt up your waist. your boyfriend gave no warning before he thrusted his cock into your pussy, making you gasp at the sudden stretch. you wrapped your legs around his waist, moaning as he fucked you roughly against the wood.
“not so bratty now, hm?” theo taunted with a dark chuckle as you whimpered in his ear. you felt dazed as his balls slapped against your ass, rattling your brain from how hard he fucked you. “all that talk and yet you’re bouncing on my cock, fucked dumb and speechless. how pathetic.”
“please, theo — need more —“
“please,” theo said mockingly. “that’s all you had to say, principessa. but you don’t seem to have any manners, do you? so used to me giving you everything you want. maybe i’ve spoiled you too much. you have to learn that some things need to be earned.”
theo pulled out suddenly, making you whine. he shot you a warning look before bringing you to your knees. the carnality written all over his handsome face only made you want him that much more.
“now suck my cock like the good little whore you are and i’ll think about letting you cum.”
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elizzsush · 5 months ago
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Future Child | Twisted Wonderland
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Malleus Draconia X Reader
----It wasn’t everyday you’d find a three year old running around campus causing a ruckus. Usually students wouldn’t have to deal with this, but with Crowley you had to deal with everything. Now… why is it when you catch this small trouble maker it calls you “momma”?
AUs: None Rating: SFW
Note: Hi, hi! So, basically, I wasn't going to finish this and posted it as a WIP and people really liked it. So, then I had no other choice but to finish it! And I hope you like it.
____________________________________
Crowley in-listed you to help with the child problem around school. No, wait that sounded bad. A young fae no older than five got into night raven campus and has been running amok. Some students say he appeared out of thin air. So, obviously, you: the defenseless, Magic-less human with no knowledge of fae or even how some of these basics of this world work, you were the schools best bet against this ‘threat.’ And so, your oh so kind instructor pushed this task onto you and left.
Not without you demanding an extra allowance, but still.
Thankfully, you were well equipped with a grumpy cat-weasel thing who is so glad to help and definitely did not try and run away. “Ehh? Why do I have to help ya??” Grim whined as he hung limply, your hand firmly grasping his scruff as you held him up. He was so generous and did not need to be bribed at all.
You sighed, “I’ll put some money aside from this to get you tuna.” Technically, that was a lie. No, you were going to fix the window Grim broke from practicing his magic in the house, again.
“I want two cans!” The motivated cat purred and jumped onto your shoulders. Now, you can finally begin your mission and take on this… threat...?
This threat was a real threat!
The sight of the frozen cafeteria did scare you. You had learnt that after you had stumbled upon the frozen dinning hall; all of this was from the baby fae! What on Earth were you suppose to even do once you caught the child?
How would you catch this kid without being frozen exactly? Why were you put on this task?
There was a mountain of ice and a many frozen students who were actively being saved by other students most of whom were made to help. They had gotten lucky in your option. They didn’t have to find the kid. “So much magic…" An awestruck student said, "it’s hard to believe a kid did this.” The nameless person mumbled as they helped thaw the room out. You couldn’t help but hum in agreement to yourself.
What kid could do this when Deuce struggled with making anything but cauldrons while he was somewhere new! It was… overwhelming magic for sure. Even for you to stand in the middle of it, magicless. And this was just the dining hall!
Apparently, you had three more places to check out.
“Not much to see here.” Grim grumbled from your shoulder, just then a ball of fire came hurtling towards the two of you! “Eek!!” Grim squealed jumping of your shoulder while you ducked.
“Sorry!” A no name student called out… He had been using the fire to dethaw some students.
“We should leave… and fast.” You said as you turned to leave in a hurry. You tripped on the ice almost tripped on the ice while you left.
.
.
.
The very next place you checked was the courtyard, where Mr. Vargas liked to make you run in the blistering heat. PE was horrible. Everyone else got to be on their dumb magic brooms while you were stuck doing laps.
Mr. Vargas did like to make the boys sweat afterwards though. You got to sit on the grass and laugh at them cheer them on! Especially Ace, who always lagged behind.
Anyway, in the place of the field of green grass that your peers used to practice flying on a broom, was a field of fire. Green fire no less. At least it was still green? You stayed a distance away while you watched a group of five students try and summon water magic to help fight these flames. “If you don’t do this right, it’ll be off with your heads!” Next to them, a familiar short, red-haired boy was shouting at them and telling them what they were doing wrong.
You liked to think it wouldn't actually be off with their heads, Riddle was above that... Now. You liked to think it was just motivation to make them work harder!
Because it was mostly Heartslabyul students, it worked. "Hey! Riddle?" You called out to the boy. The Housewarden looked at you and jogged up to meet you a way away from the green flames. Was Sebek here as well? You swore you heard his voice shouting...
"You shouldn't be here. This area is off-limits to anyone outside of the Equestrian club because of the danger." Riddle crossed his arms; his tone was pretty gentle though. You nodded along to what he was saying, because it made sense.
"Crowley wants us to find the Fae doing this, do you know anything about it?" You decided to get right to the point. Riddle was busy enough as it was. He seemed to appreciate it too.
The boy glanced back at the students trying to figure out how to calm the fire and shook his head. "I think I heard a few third years mention a blur of H/C going into the school." He mentioned, you mostly knew the kid was in the school. It was one of the places Crowley wanted you to check out, Mr. Trein's class, after that you didn't really know where the kid could be.
You smiled and thanked Riddle before turning to leave, the boy glanced back at the fire before stepping a bit closer to you, a slightly embarrassed look on his face. "Uh- Y/N, I was wondering if you wanted to have tea with me later I-"
"Dorm leader! it's spreading!" A student shouted out, a panicked look on their face as they rushed up to the two of you. Riddle muttered something under his breath, before jogging back to the fire. To step up to calm the flames even more than what the regular student could do so you left.
“This seemed handled enough…” You muttered, a bit disappointed that you didn't get to finish your conversation with Riddle, Grim simply rolled his eyes and you two turned to leave.
.
.
.
You went to Mr. Trein’s classroom next. Your most boring class of twisted wonderland, history, uh... you think. Truthfully you hadn’t stayed awake long enough to know what class he taught.
It was not for lack of trying either!
He just drew out his words and spoke in just a boring robotic tone, it could put anyone to sleep! I digress. The cat: Lucius liked you too, he tended to let you sleep more while waking up other students.
Anyway, in place of the classroom was… an overgrown forest? In the center of it, you noticed a tall, well groomed, teal haired male, squatting down to examine what appeared to be a mushroom….
Obviously. it was Jade. He was part of the Mountain Lovers Club. The sole member actually if you remember right. Crowley mentioned something about the clubs handling the situations. So...
This seemed… handled-ish….
You would be taking your leave now. You closed the door silently and Grim groaned. "This is so boring." He whined, "Why do we have to do this?!" You shrugged slightly.
"Crowley said he'll give an extra allowance this week if we do this." You mumbled, "We could really use it to fix that window you broke." You reminded the cat. He huffed and glared at you a bit childishly, crossing his furry arms silently on your shoulder.
"I thought you said I could have extra tuna?" He realized, jumping off your shoulder he pointed at you in an accusatory manner; you sighed a bit.
You didn’t have time to find him right now. "We can talk about this later." You walked past him but when he didn't follow you, you turned around.
Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!
Where did Grim go...? You looked around the halls for him, "Grim?!" Didn’t he know not to wonder off while there was a threat on campus!
This fae would eat him alive!
Feeling even more motivated and slightly panicked, you ran off to find the cat and disregard the threat that was getting killed by meeting this Fae kid unarmed. Uncated? Either way.
.
.
.
.
“Someone help me!” You finally heard Grims's voice after looking for him for... quite a while actually. Pushing the door to the classroom open, you found...
Nothing.
Every potion was on its self, the stirring sticks where the usually go, nothing burned, frozen, or overgrown nothing was… well anywhere. At least anywhere out of place. “Someone, help me!” A cried out a very familiar voice squeaked out. Hesitantly, you walked closer to where you heard Grim’s voice.
This felt like something out of a horror movie.
A cauldron, inside of it was the soft glow of blue flames. No doubt caused by Grins fire ears. “Grim…?” You spoke softly. Peeking inside the steel pot, you saw a young boy, a long tail curled up beside him and one horn on the side of his head. In his arms was Grim, held tightly like he was a stuffed animal. He sniffled and then looked up at you with the most striking green eyes you’ve ever seen…
“Y/n!” Grim cried out, relief flooding his voice and breaking you from the little boy's curse of cuteness.
You plucked Grim from the kid's arms and He crawled onto your shoulders.
“Momma!” The boy, still in the cauldron yelled out, stumbling to get up and jump into your arms, get hindered by the caldron he found himself stuck in. His face was red from tears, and he looked scared… his small hands shaking with fear. He sniffled more, his chubby hands rubbing away his tears as they fell. Your heart ached slightly seeing those tears.
This can't be the same boy running amok in the school's campus. He was just so... non-threatening?
So, without a second thought. You picked the small boy up and cooed at him. Grim stared at you bewildered, His experience far more intimidating them yours.
Didn't you know how tight that boy was holding him?! Poor Grim almost didn't make it. He whined and frowned at the attention you were giving the boy.
Now, you just had to take this sweetheart to Crowley.
Either way, the small boy was absolutely adorable! Sure, he may or may not have caused this week's class cancelations but really, Ace was thanking the boy for it, so all was fine! Back at ramshackle, you realized, he was just a kid.
He was using some crayons to draw. He screamed like a bit of a brat when you tried to make him eat some broccoli you got... You thought it would be good for you and grim and neither of you ate it.
His big electric green eyes that reminded you of… someone? But who was it again? Well, it didn’t matter. The boy had green eyes, H/ced hair and these two small slightly curled horns on top of his head.
His ears were pointed just like a fae’s but just slightly? They weren’t as long nor as sharp as a regular fae’s like Lilia. It was hard to explain. It was the oddest thing- he had a tail as well! A long blackish purple one at that. And he was excellent at magic, if the destroyed campus told you anything. “Are you mad at me?” He looked up at you with teary eyes after you informed Crowley you caught him.
“Why would I be mad at you?” You asked the small boy curiously, blinking at him a bit confused at the question. His large electric green puppy eyes weren’t exactly helping you stand strong and not coddle him either.
“Because I made the rooms a mess…” he rubbed his large cheeks free from stray tears. Not that he was any good at it either, you just shook your head and kneeled to the floor, wiping them away for him.
Something about this boy made you wanted to care for him and protect him- he was just do cute. “Nonsense, you were scared. A little mess is fine as long as you weren’t hurt.” When you looked at him you felt something akin to cuteness aggression. This little fae was adorable! If Crowley didn’t find his parents, you’d take him in!
Ignore how poorly you yourself lived in ramshackle! And how much of your food was canned tuna because Grim insisted on it over actual food.
And the window that you still needed to fix and were most likely going to spend this week's allowance on...
The boy nodded, cuddling into your side like a small cuddly cat.
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He was adorable but children were a handful.
Crowley, after assigning you to catch the kid, gave you the poor child to take care of. So, you had been living with the child for three whole days.
Not to say the kid- who’s name you learned was Casper- was a handful. In fact, he was a sweetheart. He tended to shy away from things a bit, and he was a bundle of nerves sometimes.
He definitely got overwhelmed when left by himself, often resorting to crying and when he cried his magic tended to...
Anyway, Despite the amount of magic he held at his fingertip, he’d rush to you at the slightest creak of the floorboards, held onto you tightly, and hide his face in your shirt.
When it was finally time to go to school you didn’t really know what to do with the kid…? We’re you suppose to just… bring a kid to class with you? I mean, you already bring a cat, and the kid would probably be more well behaved then Grim.
So you brought Casper with you. And it was fine He was very sweet, maybe a little to shy, the teachers did love him. He introduced himself to them from behind your leg.
That was two days ago, now you were in the cafeteria. You hadn't been here in two days because, well you weren't sure if Casper would be okay around the crowd of students. Some of whom were still bitter about the Ice things... and the green fire thing.
“Fufufu, what do we have here?” Lilia popped up out of absolutely nowhere. "I heard a rumor about a trouble make~" He smirked.
“Grandpa Lilia!” The kid for once didn’t shy away. You had expected him to start crying. (He had before after all, when Jade introduced himself to the boy.) Lilia simply smiled and accepted the boy's affections, nodding along as he babbled about his day. Meanwhile, you were staring bewildered at the boy.
And... That was your lunch.
With of course, Ace and Deuce coming to keep you company while Lilia entertained Casper.
Most of your lunch you'd glance at the two. 'Grandpa Lilia?' You wondered why he was unusually not shy? He was a talkative boy to you, but with a stranger, no way... “Where Papa?” He asked looking up at the older fae with his large sparkling eyes. Oh, maybe Lilia knew the boy's parents! He was an older fae himself, right?
“Yes, good question indeed where is your papa?” Lilia asked, before he looked at you, a small smirk on his face, he looked at you like you’d know! You didn’t. You had tried to correct the kid on you being his mom before two- he cried and sulked over it for a while after that. “Well, I best be Off now!” Lilia cheered and gave you the kid back before disappearing off somewhere.
That was weird right?
You day went on- Ace and Deuce were good around the kid. Casper was pretty decent around Ace and Deuce, not too shy but he wasn't rambling like he was around Lilia. "Is something on your mind?" Deuce asked curiously, a mild layer of unwarranted concern.
"It's fine..." You shrugged, "I just hope Crowley find Caspers parents soon." You sighed, and the boy in question looked at you confused. He called you Mom and you basically took care of him, so you figured he thought you were his mom.
Not that you really minded, it wasn't like he thought you were old, fae tended to not age and stay good looking forever basically. Case in point, Lilia.
You really didn't mind, you already took care of Grim, so what's another, milder tempered Grim who didn't run away? "Speaking of the kid- Where is he?" Ace asked, looking around.
Scratch that, the kid wondered off.
"Oh no." You sighed and looked at the Adeuce duo with an exhausted look they couldn't say no too. They'd help you find the kid.
__________________________
How on earth did Sebek of all people get Casper?
Sebek, a first year in your class. Some loud guy who you got partnered up with once.
Why didn't Casper run away! You most certainly would and have. Instead, you found Casper on Sebek Zigvolt of all people's shoulders. Now you and Ace were whispering about how to get the kid back. No way you were going to go up to Sebek of all people and have to listen to his "fae are superior" speech... again.
"We should... Lure Casper away with candy." You whispered, Ace gave you a look and shot down your idea.
"Do you want to give him the impression that you should follow random people with candy?" He said looking at you like you just had the worst idea ever. "I say we just grab him and run."
"No, Sebek is faster than us." You noted, "Especially you, he runs laps past you in PE." Ace bumped your shoulder with an eyeroll.
"Where's Deuce?" Ace frowned, you watched with wide eyes as you saw Deuce confidently walk up to Sebek... "oh no." Ace groaned and run up behind Deuce.
You cursed to yourself. "We don't have to follow right...?" you asked the cat who agreed with you, but you knew you kind of had to follow them.
"Hey- Sebek." You smiled awkwardly.
"Mama!" The kid called out to you and reached out towards you. he almost fell off Sebek's shoulders- thankfully you caught him. Sebek looked at you in confusion and maybe a bit judgmentally...?
"No- he isn't..." You sighed and gave up.
"A human couldn't mother a Fae of Caspers caliber!" And so... Sebek began his rant. He started with how Lilia informed him of the situation, and he was here to lift the burden of Casper from your human shoulders.
Really, it saved you the time of informing Sebek you were in fact, not a teen mom. Also, it was weirdly insulting? Like hey, come on, you’ve taken care of him for three days! Almost four, “Casper is pretty happy with me, right sweetie?” You asked the boy who nodded hesitatingly. Wait- hesitantly? “Huh?”
Sebek looked a bit disheartened the Fae kid rejected him, but he was also kind of confused as well. “It’s just… I miss Papa, Mama…” the boys lips quivered a bit.
“No, no! You're not in trouble.” You fell to your knees to comfort the boy.
Apparently Sebek was hanging out with the child because he thought he was Malleus but something went wrong. Perhaps someone used their unique magic in the future ruler of briar valley.
Um… who’s Malleus?
________________
Day four of having a child.
Today you were going to find this kid someone who looked close enough to his dad. I mean, you apparently looked like his mom enough, so… yeah!
Also, perhaps his brother went to this school and that was how he ended up here. Finding him a dad sounded fun though.
It was a solid plan… “Casper?” You woke the boy up. You put Casper in the guest bedroom ace usually occupied when he was collared. Which was often. Even with Riddle being looser on the rules Ace always pushed sadly. “Today we’re finding your father.” You informed the boy.
“Really!” His eyes lit up. Why didn’t you do this sooner?
“Mhm, just tell me what he looks like-“ and so began Caspers rant on how amazing his father was. How he always makes time for you two even though he’s so busy, how good he was at playing superhero’s- and so on.
You didn’t even realize superhero’s existed here. Crazy. “He has black horns like me!” He grinned up at you, “oh- and black hair and we have the same eyes!” He giggled before again going on about how awesome his dad was.
“Horns, black hair, green eyes…” you mumbled, “and you're a fae, so we should probably go to Diasomnia, they have the most fae of the dorms” you smiled brightly. “This Malleus guy seems promising- and if he doesn’t want to, I’ll just make him!” You cheered and with Casper on your shoulders you were out the door!
.
.
.
Was it just you or was Diasomnia slightly terrifying?
 Either way, with Casper on your shoulders like you were going to the zoo, you walked on the winding path with thorns around it and into the dorm. The halls were… very long and castle-like. 
Eventually you found the dorm's common room. Witch had three students, only one of which was a fae. With as much confidence you could muster, you approached them. “Hello! Good evening gentlemen… Um, do you happen to know someone whom this child looks like?” You smiled and proceeded to the kid. 
They very politely actually said that they think he looks like Malleus. You asked them to point you to this Malleus, and they again very politely refused. Apparently he was a busy man which was fair. But he was a father now! If casper deems him fit enough (By that you mean mistake him for his father like the boy did you.)
Still, throughout this process, you couldn't help but wonder if you were forgetting someone. 
You kept glancing at Caspers horns… who else did you know with horns? “Tsunotarou! That's who you look like!” You finally realized after an embarrassingly long time. In your defense you had only met the guy once or twice while you were dealing with Leona’s stupid plan, and didn’t Leona mention Malleus during his overblot?
“That's what you call Papa!” Casper cheered, his eyes widening in awe. Okay so, either that was a common name… which you doubt or Casper had a weird background. 
“Khee Khee what do we have here?” Lilia appeared out of nowhere! …again, still you jumped! 
“Mama is going to find Papa today!” Casper cheered in all his three year old glory. Picking the boy up and lifting him to sit on your hit you nodded. 
“Mhm! I’m going to meet this… Malleus demands he becomes Caspers father or pay child support!” You claim confidently because in reality, you were beginning to doubt the plan you came up with at 3am and woke up early for. “Tsunotarou would be a better bet but I really don’t know where that guy is… or his real name.” you muttered to yourself. 
Either way, Lilia clapped and with a large smile said this: “You're in luck! Malleus just finished his breakfast and should be heading over for his morning coffee.” So, without verbally questioning why he knew that you smiled and plopped down on the common room’s chairs watching a bit nervously as Lilia wandered off again. 
So… You were really dumb. Realistically this was a horrible plan bound to fail, but you already came this far. 
Didn’t all your friends always comment about how scary Malleus was? Wasn’t he like one of the top mages of this world? 
Okay, maybe if you didn’t come up with this plan at 3am last night you wouldn’t be so royally screwed! Hah, get it because Malleus is supposed to be some royal of… a whole nation right? Yeah, this was a bad idea. 
Getting up to leave, you heard Casper cheer for his father.
“Child Of Man?” 
“Tsunotarou?” You turned around, “Actually- no this is better than getting smited by some scary mage! Okay so I have been looking for… you, for a while!” You smiled, “This is our son: casper.” You introduced them. 
“Papa!” 
__________________
“Mm, He does look like me.” Tsunotarou hummed; he knelt beside the child, titling his head curiously as he observed the child. “Your horns are coming in nicely aren't they?” He commented with a small smile, the boy nodded enthusiastically. 
“Mhm! They should be as big as yours soon!” Casper giggled. 
“Your speech is also advanced for a child of your age.” The older boy smiled, It was a very touching sight actually. 
“It is. Ace and Deuce have been helping me teach him some bigger stuff too.” you stated proudly as the younger boy nodded along. You sat beside where the boy stood in front of his new father. Your back against the armrest, you sat planted on the floor. “The headmage said he would be dealing with getting him back home but I have to take care of him till then.” You sighed. 
“I see, so you thought to find me as I am the child's father?” Malleus asked curiously, an eyebrow raised almost teasingly.
“If you’ll believe it, yup.” You nodded along, I mean if he believes that the kid is his, why not get him to take responsibility for that sweet child support money?
“I see, so Crowley is making the proper arrangement to get you back to us in the future.” 
“Wait, so he's actually my kid?” you couldn’t help but blurt out. Tsunotarou merely chuckles. “Am I dumb or are we actually like his parents?” You whispered a bit to Tsunotarou and stood up, he followed after you standing up as well. 
“Mm? Crowely didn’t inform you?” he said with an amused and sly smile. “I suppose it's time anyway we get properly introduced seeing as you are my future spouse” He smirked, his hand on his hips.
“I am Malleus draconia”
__________________________
Fun Fact:
The events of this takes place after Heartslabyul’s and Savanaclaw overblot. So y/n doesn’t know Tsunotarou is Malleus.
Also, Lilia knew all along.
Also, also, I'm sorry this sucked lol
NOTE: Sorry this slightly sucked I didn't really plan to actually finish the WIP I posted it as "Forever unfinished" and people liked it so I thought I'd do this anyway!
________________________ ________________________
Some of Ya'll wanted to be Tagged: @yu-night-raven @kelsyntam @reivelmin @thisisafish123 @cheshire-kitsune @dmiqueles @ranbutler-epicsans-moon @dontmindmelove @swivi @halseyhatter @barbatoss-bitch @itslucieen @bell7duck @whatever-fanfics @ziankenvirus @blcknebula @leilakaro @sarraisme
(I'm not quite sure if I did it right but thank you for liking the WIP enough to comment and want to see another! I hope it was good, I kind of think It wasn't that good but Thats why I made it somewhat long... To compensate!)
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yuuchama · 1 month ago
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Vil Schoenheit making a rare blunder and accidentally falling off of his broom during P.E. class.
Onlookers stop what they're doing to rush and go help him. He shouts at them to stay away, don't come near. Only the Prefect is permitted to approach.
You hurry to Vil's side. He's flat on his back, covered in dirt and grass stains. The broom fell aground over a dozen feet away. His arms are crossed protectively over his face and part of his elbow is starting to turn red with bruising.
"You're in pretty bad shape but I'll run and grab the nurse, or even Coach Vargas. He'll know what to do," you assure him. "Wait right here."
Vil coughs and shakily breathes out, "no, don't. I need..."
The way he trails off is concerning. You grab Vil's hand, guiding it away from his face now that he's safe, and hunch over to hear better. His eyes are closed and he turns his head ever so gently to the side.
You grip tighter in reassurance. "A bandage? A medic? Tell me, Vil. I'm here for you."
"I need," he rasps, "a tailor."
You are sworn to secrecy about the incident once it all blows over. Nobody can ever know that Vil Schoenheit ripped his pants during P.E. Not a soul.
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just-jordie-things · 1 month ago
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try to understand - inumaki toge
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word count: 15k warnings: swearing, canon typical violence, some canon divergence (toge still has one arm, most characters are a teacher at jujutsu tech) unedited leave me alone maybe i'll do it later summary: being misunderstood isn't new for inumaki toge. but when the girl he'd had a crush on since he was a teenager makes a reappearance in his life, he realizes he'd really, really like for her to understand him. more info: miscommunication trope bcuz it's toge... he's just a pining romantic !! strangers -> slight enemies -> reluctant friends -> lovers. reader is a feelings-blind, emotionally constipated lil idiot <3
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
The Jujutsu Tech Exchange Event was stress inducing enough.  Being evaluated by the higher ups and pitted against peers in a test of cursed ability and strength put a lot of pressure on those who participated.  
Not that participation was ever a choice.
And to be honest, if it was a volunteer event, (y/n) would have some serious thinking to do.
It wasn’t that she doubted her abilities as a sorcerer.  She had all the confidence in the world with her mastered ability, but sometimes the weight of being a jujutsu sorcerer was so heavy she couldn’t even be sure it was the right path for her.
But it had to be, right? With her skill being more akin to raw talent, sorcery coming as natural to her as breathing, it must be what she was meant for, it just made sense like that.
So most days, she woke up, shook off the empty feeling of longing on her mind, and got right to work.  Whether it was training, studying, or a bright and early assignment, she stayed on top of things.  She couldn’t let a feeling slow her down, and she didn’t.
Still, she wished she could feel what her peers do.  Because whatever it was, Mai and Todo made it look pretty exhilarating.
Miwa, Mechamaru, Momo, and Noritoshi didn’t seem as interested in antagonizing the Tokyo students either, but they were content hanging out with the snacks they’d gotten from the vending machines without picking any fights.  (y/n) sat with them, slowly sipping on the fruity drink she’d gotten for herself in the hopes that it would gear her up for the event.
“Looks like things are heating up” Miwa says, her neck craning to get a better glimpse at what was going on between the noisy students.  It didn’t take a genius to know exactly what was going on, though.
Mai and Todo being their usual selves, that is.  (y/n) didn’t bother trying to watch the scene unfold.  Instead she just slumped further down into the grass.  If only she could sink underneath it, too.
“Should we intervene?” Momo asks, but she doesn’t seem any more interested in (y/n).  Laid back on her broom with her hands behind her head, she was the image of disinterest.
There wasn’t a chance (y/n) was getting involved in any of this.  The only thing she had her sights set on was a solid nap after today’s event was over.
The event itself was the same as last year… and every year before that.  A bunch of egotistical sorcerers running around in the woods, eac trying to exorcize more curses than the last.  Of course, these last couple of times had more of an edge to them than usual.  With Mai always gunning for her sister- literally- there was an added layer of bloodlust.  And god forbid Todo found any of his opponents boring.  He’d take all the ‘friendly’ out of friendly competition.
Perched in a spot she wouldn’t call great for hiding but she didn’t necessarily care, (y/n) had her chin in her hand to keep her head up.  She’d fall asleep right there if she could.  A part of her wished that Tokyo’s Special Grade Okkotsu Yuuta would show up, just to put this whole silly thing to an end as quickly as he did last year.  Her peers weren’t so happy about him, or Rika, being involved in the Exchange Event, but that day he was (y/n’s) hero.
Lazily, her eyes swept over the area below her.  No one had ventured this way since she’d climbed this tree, and if she was lucky, she might be able to sit here until the whole thing was over.  She could only dream.
But all good things must come to an end, and soon enough the unmistakable sound of footsteps came running towards her tree.  She perked up, just a little, and only because it was a surprise that whoever was rushing into her neck of the woods clearly wasn’t doing so with the intention of going unnoticed.
Swinging her legs a bit, (y/n) peeked down below her, trying to catch a good look at who it was.  Surely not one of her peers, they had to be a Tokyo student.
Sure enough, an unfamiliar head of blonde hair came bounding into the clearing just below her tree.  Of the Tokyo students she was familiar with- Maki, Panda, Fushiguro, and she supposed Yuuta- this wasn’t one of them.  So she played it safe by remaining silent.
It crosses her mind that any of her fellow sorcerers would’ve taken this chance to go head to head with their abilities. They’d probably think she was wasting an opportunity by letting this boy run by without a fight.  The thought doesn’t linger long.  She’s not bothered much by what others might think of her.  She knows that if she wanted to, she could take any sorcerer on in a fight.  She just… didn’t care much to use her cursed technique where it wasn’t necessary.
At first all she can see is the blonde hair.  He seems to hesitate once in the clearing, doing a quick sweep to make sure there wasn’t another sorcerer hiding amongst the brush.  (y/n) holds her breath, but not once does he lift his head to check amongst the trees.  She’s in the clear.
From the little bit that he looks around himself, she notices that his uniform includes a tall black collar which covers the bottom half of his face.
It doesn’t take much else to put two and two together.  This was the Cursed Speech user she’d been warned about.  From the Inumaki Clan.  She holds her breath once more.
Mai had told her long winded and horrific things about the Inumaki Clan.  Stories similar scary tales told around the campfire.  Except they were all cramped up in the car that brought them to Tokyo.  If it was a scare tactic to keep everyone away from Tokyo’s Cursed Speech user, (y/n) couldn’t say it was all that fear inducing.
That doesn’t mean she didn’t have her curiosities.
“Jump down” 
It was an experience like no other.  Any thought on her mind was erased.  Her held breath was expelled just as quickly as she was releasing her secure hold on the branch, and before she knew it she was leaping right off, without a care for being noticed.  Had she been less experienced in acrobatics, she might’ve sprained an ankle from the ten foot drop.  Lucky her that a lifetime of training meant she landed as gracefully as she would’ve had she jumped on her own volition.
And it was quick too- just as soon as she’d realized the hold that Cursed Speech had on her, she was already free of it’s effects and was level headed again.  At least enough to take a step backwards to put some distance between herself and the Tokyo student who’d caught her red handed.
However she quickly noticed that the Inumaki boy wasn’t in an offensive stance.  He wasn’t really in any stance at all- he just stood there, watching her with seemingly the same amount of curiosity as she watched him.
(y/n) doesn’t mean any offense, but it’s hard not to stare.  With a collar hiding the lower half of his face, his eyes felt all the more piercing.  As if he had full access to her mind whether he spoke or not.
Using her own cursed technique crosses her mind, but it’s a distant thought, as if the competition at play isn’t happening at all.
She’s not sure she’s ever met anyone with such deep violet eyes before.
It’s ridiculous to wait for him to say something.  But she stands there with more impatience than she’s ever felt before.
“Aren’t you going to knock me out or something?” She asks when she realizes he’s still just going to stand there.
Inumaki blinks, mabe pondering it for a moment, before he shrugs.  (y/n) hardly knows what to do with that, and despite knowing he’s not going to give her any proper explanation, she still seems to wait for something more than a shrug.
So with a careful eye she steps back a little further, just to see if he’d make any move on removing her from the game.  But no matter how many small steps she took, Inumaki didn’t move.  He barely seemed to care.  Didn’t he know he had the unbeatable technique? If he wanted to, he could put her to sleep right now.
With one last glance, (y/n) finally turned and booked it towards the thickest bundle of trees with the most coverage.  It was clear that he wasn’t going to attack her, and it shouldn’t have surprised her that he didn’t seem to be following after her either.  What was his deal? What was Tokyo’s strategy if it wasn’t wiping out the competition? She couldn’t make any sense of it, so for now she’d just have to find a new spot to hide out until the event was over.  Or became more interesting.
It never really crossed her mind that she hadn’t tried to attack him, either.
The event did get more interesting.  Although it wasn’t an exciting turn, (y/n) did find herself suddenly thrown into engaging herself.
How curses and curse users managed to get through the barrier around Jujutsu Tech, she didn’t understand.  Critical thinking however was out the window as soon as that Special Grade Tree showed up.
With a less than formal introduction to Itadori, she found herself wrapped up with him and Todo.  Perhaps the last place she wanted to be- she hated the dizzying effect of his cursed technique- but it was where she found herself.  So she gave it her all, even when the turn for the worst took a detour towards chaos.
It was a strange feeling though, in the thick of the fight and expecting the worst, there was finally a spark within her.  Something buzzing like static electricity was starting to take form.  A small zap at first, an eagerness to play on the offense, and it seemed the more she chased that electric buzz, the more it grew.  There was no denying that something had changed in her demeanor- the others could see it in the way she stopped pulling her punches.  That’s not to mention the grin on her face growing more unhinged like a snarl with every move she made.
That little buzz had ignited into an all out fire, and soon she grew blind to everything but the fight.
Was this passion? Was this finally her eye opening moment to the pleasure of knowing and loving what she’s meant to do? The thoughts were muddled amongst the overwhelming urge to finish this off, to exorcize, to win.  She’s never felt a desire this strong, never sought out a victory quite like this, and it was just barely out of reach, right at the tips of her fingers- 
“Run away!” 
And just as (y/n’s)cursed energy began to materialize around her hands, it was disappearing.  Her body swiveled on it’s own accord, facing her in the other direction and pumping her legs into the motion of running all before she could process that this wasn’t her own doing.  It was cursed speech.  Again.
Her deranged grin fell into a sour grimace as she found herself full sprinting towards the other side of campus, other sorcerers in tow feeling just as useless as they were forced away from the fight.
What was once a burning passion turned into a bitter cold resentment.  All she could think as she ran away from the fight was how dare Inumaki dismiss her? The bitterness in her mood only festered the more she grew to blame him for sending her away.
The next time their paths cross, she’d make sure to give him a piece of her mind.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆ 5 YEARS LATER  ⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
Coming back to Jujutsu Tech Tokyo wasn’t exactly a choice (y/n) would have made for herself, she could admit that.
She’d never wanted to become a teacher.  The idea of continuing the cycle of turning young people into jujutsu sorcerers made her stomach knot.  So no matter how persistent the Kyoto and Tokyo branches were- she wanted nothing to do with it.  She’d continue her own work- privately- exorcizing curses for a living, but she swore she’d bite the curb before getting involved any further than that.
Curb, meet (y/n).
Standing outside the grand double doors that was the main entrance to the Tokyo school, she couldn’t help but let her shoulders sink.  Since graduating a few years ago and entering the real world as an adult, (y/n) had spent most of her time alone.  Living alone, working alone- she’d quickly learned it was the only way to be when you’re a jujutsu sorcerer.  Letting people in was a risk, getting attached to someone was a risk, it felt like it was just easier to function as a singular unit.  No one to look out for but herself.
The doors opened before she could even knock.  Before she even gave turning around and disappearing a second thought.
“(y/l/n)!” 
Itadori Yuji was just as she remembered him.  So outgoing it would be inappropriate if he wasn’t completely genuine.  With a large grin he ushered her inside, his mouth running a hundred miles a minute, going on about how long it had been, how she was doing, how he was doing, how happy he was to see her in Tokyo.
“I mean, it’s been what, five years? You look great! Here follow me, the others are waiting just down here…” 
It’s only then that she finally finds her voice and cuts off his eager rambling.
“Others?” She repeats the word her mind had caught onto.  “I thought this was a quick in and out sort of thing” 
Yuji could be dense at times, but he didn’t miss the way her eyes narrowed on him with an accusatory glare behind them.  So with a smile that seemed more sheepish than reassuring, he waved his hand in a dismissive manner and blew a raspberry.  (y/n’s) expression didn’t waver.
“In and out, two weeks, it’s all relative, right?” He joked, and now she’s gaping at him with widened eyes that seemed all the more upset.
“Two weeks?” Her voice raises just a little, not enough to yell, but enough that her exasperation was evident.  “Itadori, you said you just needed a bit of a fill in, two weeks is not a fill in!” 
He’s walking faster down the hall, not that it was difficult for (y/n) to keep up with him.  Two pairs of loafers clicking loudly and quickly against the tile, they almost looked like they were playing a game of chase.
“My hands are tied here, it’s really not up to-” 
Just as Itadori lifts his hands in mock surrender, he’s frozen in place, a familiar energy coursing through his body that keeps him stuck like a statue.
(y/n) finally gets in front of him, with her hands encased in cursed energy and a scowl on her face.
“You’re being dodgy,” She states, eyeing the way he clearly tries to fight her cursed technique to no avail.  “Why do you really need me here for two weeks?” 
When she’d gotten a call from an unknown number a few days ago, she hadn’t expected to hear Itadori Yuji.  She also hadn’t expected to hear him reaching out for help, backup as he called it.  “It’ll be so quick, in and out!” He’d promised.  “And then you can go home and I won’t bother you again!” 
Why she’d actually agreed to fly out to Tokyo for this mystery backup, she wasn’t sure.  Something must have clouded her judgment at that moment.  Now she just feels like facepalming.  How ridiculous was she for not asking more questions?
“Okay, okay,” Yuji huffs, clearly fighting hard against the stun of her cursed energy.  He’d seen it in action once or twice, but that would have happened years ago, and he certainly never felt it’s effect on himself before.
Paralyze was an interesting technique, with the ability to stun anything she pleases, (y/n) could render her enemies frozen and helpless with a slight wave of her hand.  Of course, it’s effects only last as long as she’s capable of holding them still.  The stronger the opponent, the weaker her technique.  So it doesn’t take long before Yuji’s squirming out of it’s hold, and soon (y/n) drops her technique completely.
“In case you haven’t noticed… we’re low on sorcerers around here,” He admits defeatedly.  (y/n) stays quiet, she didn’t need to say that she’d obviously noticed the empty halls and echo of every noise they made.  “Fushiguro’s busy with Zen’in politics, and ropes Maki into it more than she cares to be involved.  Okkotsu’s never free from assignments, Kugisaki and I take everything he can’t… we’re stretched thin, you know?” 
(y/n) nods in understanding, but she’s still waiting for him to explain the part where she comes in.
“And you need me to…? Take some exorcisms off your plate?” She tries to fill in the blank, but judging by the half wince Yuji gives her, she supposes her guess is wrong.
“Well… we actually need someone to help with the training aspect of-” 
“Not teaching” Her voice is monotone as she hopes he’s not about to tell her she’s been called here to chaperone a bunch of kids.
“Teaching…” Yuji finishes slowly, drawing out the word as if it will make the blow less painful.  It only makes it more painfully awkward.
“Itadori-!” Just as she starts to scold him, upset that she’s been lured out here under false pretenses, only to be asked to do the one thing she’d sworn she’d never do, they’re greeted by the rest of their company.
“(y/l/n)-san! Long time no see!” 
Panda is as warm of a presence as ever, though (y/n) had only met him a handful of times, he greets her as if they were long time friends being reunited.  For a brief moment, she actually relaxes.
And then she sees him.
Inumaki Toge somehow looks exactly the same, and like a completely different person from the last time she’d seen him.  His hair was a little shaggier, still covering his forehead and just barely sweeping over the deep violet eyes that feel more familiar than they should.  He still wears a collar with his uniform, a soft looking gray material that sits above the crisp black jacket that matches hers.
The more noticeable change, however, is his lack of a right arm.  (y/n) tries not to stare directly at the space where his bicep ends and his forearm was supposed to begin, but she’s sure he notices the way her eyes dart to and from the missing limb, quickly looking back at his face again.
She’s not too thrilled about looking at him at all, so she directs her attention back towards Panda, clearing her throat of the lump that seemed to form in the matter of seconds.
“Hi,” She greets him, and only him it seems, before going right into the matter at hand.  “Look, it’s not that I don’t want to help you out here-” 
“I’m so glad you came!” Panda cheers like she’s doing him the favor of the century.  “We really need all the help we can get, but I just want the best of the best!” 
(y/n) swallows thickly before another lump can form.
“And I knew you’d help out.  Besides, we can finally catch up! It’s been a long time” Panda continues chatting despite the clear discomfort on (y/n’s) face.  She wonders if he’s trying to guilt her, or if he’s just so delusional in thinking this was some special reunion.  She really hardly knew the Tokyo students back then.
Maki was probably the only one she’d be all that comfortable with, and she was nowhere to be found.
(y/n) shifted her weight back and forth, trying to find the right thing to say that would get her out of here as fast as possible.
“We can have some tea and chat about what your role will look like for the time being-” 
“I can’t” She blurts out.  Wrong thing to say.  The hallway feels even more empty now, her short words echoing off the high ceilings, leaving no room for misinterpretation between the other three sorcerers.
“Huh?” Panda hums, his head tilted to the side in his confusion.  “You can’t stay?”
“Look, I’m sorry and all, but when you called me I thought you needed help with a curse, okay? Not…” Her hands wave around vaguely gesturing to the space around them.  “Playing teacher” 
Inumaki snorts, and her eyes flicker towards him almost challengingly, as if asking what she’d said so wrong, but there was nothing but amusement in the part of his expression she could see, and she turns back towards Panda.
“I’m no use for that, alright?” She sighs.  “I would’ve told you, had I known, but this one-” Her finger points towards Itadori, who suddenly looks like he’s been caught red handed, “Decided to be cryptic. So,  Sorry, but no” 
“I see,” Panda replied, sounding like some of his energy had been drained by her rejection.  “Well, we could still have that tea?” 
She should’ve turned down that offer as well, because tea led to chatting, and chatting led to bonding, and it wasn’t long before Panda was pushing his offer again.
“It’s just… the kids could really use some help with their training…” He says as he stares into the near empty cup in his paw.  Somehow it looks even smaller when held by him.  “They’re good kids, you know? Respectful, kind… it would be so simple… monitoring some cursed technique use, maybe going on some Grade Four assignments…” 
(y/n) stares boredly at him as he goes on, describing the job like it’s the simplest position in the world.  As if she couldn’t remember watching the stress of it affect her own teacher back in the day.  Utahime’s frown lines were irreversible now.  Although that could partially be due to her Tokyo counterpart…
Her tired gaze shifts towards Yuji, who’s holding his mug in both hands and grinning from ear to ear.  Too hopeful for his own good.  The corners of her lips twitch, an undeniable urge to reciprocate his boundless joy.  She has to look away from him.
Inumaki appears less interested in the whole scheme.  He’d leaned away from the table as soon as he’d finished his tea.  With his hand planted behind him to keep him propped up, he’s the image of disinterest.  He’s not even watching Panda’s attempts at swaying (y/n’s) opinion, his eyes wandering the common room’s wall.  (y/n) finds herself also checking out the wall, trying to find whatever could hold his attention more than his friend’s useless rambling.  Besides a few picture frames and worn wallpaper, she can’t find anything worth her attention.
But when she turns away from it, Inumaki must have also lost interest, because he was looking directly at her.  She freezes up for a moment, a feeling eerily similar to her own cursed technique, before it creeps away and she finds herself averting her gaze as rapidly as she’s able.
Which lands her looking right back at Panda, who’s watching her with an open mouthed grin, clearly awaiting an answer to a question she hadn’t heard.
Shit, she hadn’t been listening?
“What did you say?” She asked, her eyebrows raising with a small hum at the end of her question.
“I’ll make sure that you aren’t bothered like this again,” Panda repeats his earlier statement.  “If we weren’t at the end of our rope, I wouldn’t be asking like this now… but it seems this is just the position we’ve found ourselves in,” He sighs, furry shoulders slumping.  “I’m just trying to do what I can to provide the best resources for these youngsters but I’m only one panda, and the world will always need sorcerers out there to-” 
“Alright then” 
In an instant, three pairs of eyes land on her, shock evident in all of them.  She can’t pretend to be surprised by their astonishment, as she’d been pretty stubborn prior to now.  She could say that she had a change of heart, that he swayed her with his kind words and positive outlook on guiding the students in his care.  
But truthfully? She didn’t think she’d forgive herself if she made Panda cry.
“You- you mean it?” Panda asks, disbelief evident in his tone, and in the way his mouth stayed hanging open.
“Yes,” She can’t help a short laugh escaping through her exhale.  “On the condition you don’t ask me any more favors” She adds, her finger in the air as she awaited Panda’s confirmation.
“Heard! Deal!” He hollered, his gape turning into a grin as his paw snatched up her hand and shook it wildly.  “You don’t understand how much this means, (y/l/n)-san!” 
“Oh, I’m starting to” She says with a wince of a smile as she pulls her hand away, flexing her sore fingers.
“I’ll show you where you’ll be staying!” Yuji leaps up from the ground and is at the door before (y/n) could even stand.  “And I’ll let someone know you’ll need a few changes in uniform, too” He adds as an afterthought, noticing her already wrinkled jacket from the last hour of sitting hunched over on the ground for tea.
Briefly glancing between Panda and Inumaki, she realizes she’s left with no choice but to get up and follow after Yuji, who seemed to be treating the whole ordeal like it was Christmas day.
Whether or not she could feel Inumaki’s gaze following her as she stood and left, she didn’t make clear.  Nonetheless his eyes lingered at the door even once she’d gone.
It’s not until Panda lets out a full belly laugh that the cursed speech user is pulled back into reality, and he furrows his brows at his old friend.
“Bonito flakes” He mutters with a shake of his head, before getting up and stretching his arm.  Leaning all of his weight on it for a while had it feeling tender, but the scowl on his face was completely due to Panda.
“What?” Panda asks, his voice hitting a higher octave, knowing exactly why his friend was being snarky.  “You stared at her the whole time, I’m not even sure you blinked!” 
Toge rolls his eyes just as he rolls his shoulder to work out the soreness.  So full of shit, he thinks, but he can’t help the growing smile behind his collar, as he can’t exactly deny the accusation.
But what can he say? He’d only met the girl for a short time, years ago, and it was enough to leave a lasting impression.  At least enough that he was eager to meet her again- even if she didn’t share the thrill of her visit.  He’d just have to find a way to help her enjoy her time here.
“Good luck getting her to actually enjoy it here,” Panda huffs, reading his mind as always.  Toge gives him a curious look, waiting for any bright ideas.  Unfortunately, Panda wasn’t exactly optimistic about (y/n’s) time here.  “Maki calls her the off grid sorcerer for a reason,” 
Toge wants to call him out on that, because sometimes Maki does saki bombs and likes to gossip, but for some reason, the words fail him.
“She’s dodged every request to teach, or even show up at any events held at the schools,” Panda explains.  “Maki says she hates jujutsu sorcery” 
That earns another eye roll from Toge.  It just didn’t make sense, who could she hate jujutsu sorcery, when she was actively still a jujutsu sorcerer?
“Ikura” Toge dismisses him with a lame wave of his hand.  It was stupid, and he wasn’t going to get into a stupid argument.  Maybe it was silly to feel this defensive over a high school crush that probably barely remembered him, but if Panda was going to be this childish, then so could he.
“Fine, do your best,” Panda says, standing to follow his friend out of the room.  “But I’d be impressed if you found a way to make her feel otherwise” 
Challenge accepted, Toge thinks to himself as he meanders back towards his own quarters.  
Step one would be getting to know her, properly, like he’d wanted to years ago.  And step two would be finding a way to make her stay.
That couldn’t be too hard, could it? 
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
(y/n) never forgot the revenge she swore she’d take on Inumaki had she ever seen his face again.  She can’t ignore the small spike of bitterness in her chest whenever she sees him.
But she’s not sure what to do with that feeling now.
She’s standing in the classroom that supposedly belonged to Maki when she was around.  It was empty, too early for any students to arrive just yet, but she’d wanted to get there early.  That way she’d be settled in and ready for whatever this day was going to be.  She’d been mulling over what she was supposed to do when the students got here for so long that she’s not sure when she’d wandered to the window and began to watch the scene below.
Outside, Inumaki is standing on the steps with three students- probably his students- and he’s making various rapid hand movements.  Wait, was that sign language? She was on the second story, so even if she’d opened the window she probably wouldn’t have heard what they were talking about, but even without listening in, it seemed that the students understood their teacher perfectly.
She was certain he hadn’t used any sign language yesterday, she tried to recall the events of the day, but it was so fast paced and confusing from start to finish that she just couldn’t remember any communications from Inumaki’s end.
Besides a sarcastic chuckle.
“Are you (y/l/n)-senpai?” 
She almost jumps as she turns around, not having heard the footsteps approaching the classroom.
There stood two students, a boy and a girl, each wearing the same uniform.  The familiar black jackets and crisp slacks had her stomach knotting up with the realization of what she was doing here.
“Just (y/l/n),” She corrects, her voice sounding a bit strained.  She clears her throat before any more weird sounds could be made.  “I’m not your teacher, I’m just… filling in” 
“So… like a substitute teacher?” The boy deadpans.
Great.  He’s got an attitude.  If only she were Mai, she’d have that snark smacked out of his tone with one, well, smack.
“Hardly.  More of a supervisor,” (y/n) replies with a tight lipped smile.  “So… what is it you’re working on right now?” 
“Cursed techniques” The girl replies.  Her voice is much softer than her snarky little friend.  There’s a politeness in it that (y/n’s) grateful for.  She’s not really looking for these kids to respect her, but if they were nice it’d definitely make the next couple weeks go by smoothly.
“Easy enough,” (y/n) shrugs.  “Why don’t you explain your techniques to me and we’ll go from there” 
As she should have expected, it was not easy enough.  All those two did was argue, and when they weren’t arguing, they were struggling through their cursed techniques like a five year old getting their training wheels taken off.  If that five year old was blind and toppled off the bike and broke both legs in the process.  (y/n) found herself ready for a beer by lunchtime, and she wasn’t even sure if there was any alcohol on campus.  She’d have to do a grocery run later for some necessities.  If every day was going to be like this, she’d need a twenty-four pack.
She’d come out to the lawn for her lunch break, a blank notebook and pen in hand with the hopes of drawing up some kind of lesson plan.  A grocery list seemed more like the pressing matter now, though.
It must just be a spacey day for her, because when Inumaki Toge approaches the table, she realizes she hadn’t noticed him until he was standing right there before her.  His hand is in his pocket, and despite his face being half covered, she can tell he’s wearing a kind look.
Not knowing how she felt about him yet, she shifts in her seat on the bench.  She’s sure it’s rude to stare, and it’s dumb to expect him to explain what he wanted, but she’s not sure what to say either.
“Mustard leaf?” 
Huh?
Her confusion must’ve been evident, because Inumaki pulls his hand out of his pocket and points at her notebook and pen.
“Oh,” She mumbles absentmindedly, before passing the pen and paper to him.  “Is that how you ask for things?” 
She cringes at her own question, and if she wasn’t already embarrassed she would have smacked her hand to her head, too.  Inumaki doesn’t seem bothered though, as he just nods his head and begins to write in her notebook.
When he hands it back to her he keeps hold of her pen.  Was this his way of trying to have a conversation? This time she’s not stupid enough to actually ask that, but her curiosity gets the best of her as she grabs the notebook to read what he wrote quickly.
Hi.
Her eyes flicker between the page and him a few times, disbelief turning her lips into a small smile.
“Hi…” She replies, quieter than intended.
Inumaki chuckles, and beckons her to pass the notebook back to him.  (y/n) has a feeling the rest of her lunch hour would look like this.  This time she watches him as he scrawls on the page again, and this time it seems he’s writing more than two letters.
With his attention on his writing, she doesn’t feel so worried about staring at his bright violet eyes.  The last time she’d really gotten a good look at them was five years ago, and she was sure she’d never seen anyone with eyes quite like his.  That still holds true.
Inumaki passes the notebook back again.
Are you having a good first day? 
She snorts, and Inumaki takes that to mean it wasn’t a great start.
“I couldn’t have been more clear that I wasn’t meant to be a teacher,” (y/n) shakes her head, and leans back a bit into the bench.  Inumaki’s eyes shift to the space next to her, and she finds herself shifting to make room for him to sit.  He doesn’t need a verbal offer in order to sit beside her.  “I don’t understand how anyone could enjoy this”
Inumaki holds his hand out for the notebook once more, and (y/n) passes it to him.  She wonders if he ever got tired of communicating like this.  But just as the question passes her mind, she’s sure he’s grown used to the exhaustion of living this way long ago.  So she begins to wonder when he began to accept it.  As he writes, she realizes she actually has a lot of curiosities surrounding him.
The old bitterness begins to chip away the more she lets her mind wander.  Maybe that bitterness was childish and stupid, anyways.  Or, maybe it was just that she was a child when that grudge had taken form.
Toge passes her the notebook again.  She can’t see that he’s smiling, but there’s crinkles at the corners of his eyes that tell her he must be.
Have you tried drinking on the job? 
(y/n) glances between the note and Toge, who seems to be barely holding it together behind his mask.  It’s not until she lets out the faintest of laughs that he begins to cackle, shaking his head asif to say ‘I’m just kidding!’ as though she couldn’t have put that together.
Maybe Inumaki Toge wasn’t at all who she thought he was.  
It sort of turned out that she hadn’t known him at all.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
It didn’t take long for a little routine to be established.  It seemed to have happened without anyone’s say in it.  (y/n) would find a spot for lunch and Inumaki just seemed to gravitate towards that spot.  They’d eat their lunches and grade papers together while passing a notebook back and forth for communication, and it just seemed to… work.  
Some days (y/n) would even write her responses underneath his own written words.  Sometimes it just seemed like the fair thing to do, but she couldn’t deny, the peace and quiet could be nice.
Toge has to tap the end of his pencil against the table a few times to get (y/n) to snap out of her brain fog and finally notice the note he’d written her.  She gives him an apologetic look once consciousness had brightened her eyes again, before directing her attention to the notebook.
Toge smiles to himself, already going back to the paper he was grading.
I’ve got an assignment in Yokohama later.  Just a Grade Two though.  Want to come with? :)
(y/n’s) brow lifts in his direction, but he’s too busy reading one of his students’ work to notice.  Her eyes only liner for a few extra seconds before she makes a hum to get his attention.  He mimics the hum.
“All this work aging you faster? Is that what you’re telling me?” She asks.  Her finer absentmindedly taps at his neat handwriting.  “Can’t handle assignments alone anymore?” 
Inumaki scoffs, his eyes briefly flickering away from his work, just long enough to show his lack of amusement with her dry form of teasing.  He doesn’t get much more done before he’s bringing their talking notebook back to his side of the table and writing in it again.  (y/n) doesn’t bother to go back to her own work.  After five days of this little routine she’s come to realize this block of time in her day wasn’t meant for getting work done.  It was meant for… 
She gets the feeling Inumaki’s smiling to himself under his collar.
… whatever this was.
He looks up at her when he’s finished, catching her eyes already on him, and he’s sure that she blushes just a little bit, but any trace of it is gone when she reaches over for the notebook and lifts it to read.  A strategic choice to cover the lower half of her face.  Toge tries not to feel too defeated, it’s only fair after all.
I meant to hang out, dummy.  I don’t mean to brag you’d only slow me down out there.  But I do know a great tea shop.
She’s glad that the notebook hides her face, because she can’t have him seeing how quickly a few words can make her smile.  Only of course because she doesn’t want him getting the wrong idea.
There’s been a few occurrences of that feeling in the past couple days of spending her lunch breaks with Inumaki.  An odd feeling, like there’s a lump in her throat, but her heartbeat starts to get ahead of itself.  It’s like adrenaline, but seemingly without a cause.  So far she’d been able to brush the feeling off, trying not to think too much of it.
“You would be grateful if you had a partner like me out there,” She says matter of factly, before dropping the notebook back on the table.  “Sending you on a Grade Two mission, you almost have to wonder if the higher ups think you’re slow enough on your own?”
That earns her another scoff, this time accompanied by an even longer blank stare.  She has to bite back her smile before it can grow too wide, but she can’t help a little laugh at his uninterested expression.  For as much of a jokester as Inumaki was, he sure didn’t react when he was the one being teased.
“Yeah yeah, I hear you,” (y/n) huffs, finally looking back at her stack of papers that she should’ve graded by now.  “Tea does sound good.  Let me know when you’re headed out later” 
Again, she ignores the fluttery feeling when they swap phones to exchange numbers so they could form a plan later.  It was unrelated, she’s sure.  But she’s still not so sure what that feeling was all about to begin with.
⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆。⋆。𖦹°⭒˚。⋆
There was a skip to Inumaki’s step that couldn’t go unnoticed, especially not by his colleagues, who happened to watch him heading out to the courtyard and decided to involve themselves without even a single word shared.
“I’ve never seen you off to a mission so jazzed!” Itadori practically sings, his grin wide, his eyebrows dancing, oh, he’s so onto him.
“Bonito flakes” 
“So you didn’t brush your hair before going on an assignment?” Panda accuses, but his paw gets swatted away before he can run his hand through the luscious blonde locks of perfectly clean and dried hair.  
No one showers before an assignment.  What’s the point?
“Bonito flakes!” Toge repeats himself a little louder this time, his eyes darting around the area to be sure no one else was around to hear this interaction.
This doesn’t go unseen by his friends- who seem extra persistent on bothering him today.
“Oh wow! So it’s like a… date assignment?” Itadori asks.  He makes the extra effort to also ensure no one else was lingering around, his grin only growing as he checks over both shoulders before lowering his voice.  “That sounds hot, good for you man” 
Toge rolls his eyes, then shakes his head.
“What are you up to then?” Panda asks.
“It’s not a date?” Itadori’s grin falls into a frown.
Toge’s hand moves in a swift motion, from a fist with his thumb jutted out to his palm up so quick if you’d blink you would’ve missed it.  Somehow he’d managed to pour as much attitude into his signed question of ‘how?’ in one little hand movement as possible.  It’s clear it works too, because Panda winces and Itadori begins to scratch the back of his neck.
Sure, Inumaki had been excited to spend some time with (y/n) away from the school.  Maybe he had taken a shower before his assignment, so what? It was normal to want to be presentable right? He just wanted to be decent company…
“Oh, you’ve got it bad!” Panda hollers, not seeming to care that his voice booms and echos off the high ceiling, likely bouncing down all the corridors for anyone to hear.
Today, Toge is grateful that jujutsu society is dying.
“Bonito flakes!” He hisses, smacking his bear friend as hard as he could.  It wasn’t hard enough, as the belting laughter was even louder than his voice.
“Not too hard to find you guys, huh?” 
Toge doesn’t hide the fact that he nearly leaps out of his skin as he swivels around to see (y/n) standing there, an amused look on her face as she eyes the laughing pair, before turning towards the cursed speech user with a more curious expression.  Being a sorcerer of his caliber, she was surprised she was able to startle him at all.  But it’s clear when his eyes first land on her, it’s as if he’s seen a ghost.
He’s quick to calm down, relaxation returning to his shoulders and the only tension remaining in his body coming from the worry that his so called friends were going to say something stupid like- 
“Wow you’re in uniform! Haven’t seen Toge take up a partner in a while.  Unless Yuuta’s around,” Panda says, and (y/n) merely shrugs, looking over her usual attire.  “You’re probably a better date than Yuuta, though” 
“Ikura” Toge hisses, side eyeing his oldest friend with a look in his eye warning him that his next words wouldn’t be rice ball ingredients.
“I think Yuuta would be a good date” Yuji said thoughtfully, eyes wandering about as though he were really considering the date-ability of the older sorcerer.
It does the trick in moving the group’s attention away from the previous awkward thing, this one being far more enticing to latch onto, and while normally Toge would participate in the goofing off, at the moment he can only feel relief that (y/n) hadn’t seemed to dwell on the ‘date’ comment.
“He’d be a good date if he could sit down for long enough to actually date” Panda replies, and it’s not long before he and Yuji have launched themselves into an argument about it.
In the heat of the fight, (y/n’s) eyes catch Toge’s, and it only takes one motion of her head before they’re both speeding out of there.
“I didn’t realize they were crushing on Okkotsu so hard,” She’s the first to speak, once they’re far enough away there’s no chance of anyone overhearing.  “If I knew him better I would’ve given my two cents” She added in a near mutter, clearly meant for her own amusement under her breath, but Toge heard and asked about it anyways.
“Mustard leaf?” 
“Like I said, I don’t really know the guy-” She started to protest, but Toge clearly had invested an interest in her opinion.
“Mustard leaf mustard leaf mustard leaf-” 
“Alright!” She has to shout over his incessant pestering.  “He seems like a good guy and all but he’s not… my preference in company.  Is that good enough?” 
His collar is zipped up as per usual, but his cheeky grin seems to permeate through it anyways.  (y/n) has to roll her eyes to remind him just how ridiculous of a conversation this was.  Reiterating the fact that she’d barely met Okkotsu Yuuta once didn’t seem to do the trick in explaining that she couldn’t exactly form an opinion on him when they hadn’t even been introduced to one another, merely crossed paths back in the day when the end of the world seemed to closing in.
“Salmon cod roe” 
But the world hadn’t ended.  And now somehow, she found herself here.  Teaching in Tokyo, and keeping the company of a cursed speech user from the notorious Inumaki Clan.  And… she enjoyed herself.
She hoped it didn’t show too much, keeping her expression neutral on the ride to Yokohama as Toge scrolled through the case file of his assignment.  Occasionally he’d tilt his phone in her direction so she could read up on it as well, sometimes she’d give him her thoughts on it, but the few words that came out were nothing compared to the calculations she was making behind her eyes.  He could tell just from the look in her eyes that she had more plots in her mind than the small things she shared.
Toge wondered if she was always silent when she schemed, or if this was her attempt at not overstepping a non-existent boundary.  Truthfully, he would’ve loved to hear her thoughts on how best to exorcize this curse.  He would have found a way to ask her, but he didn’t want all of their conversation tonight to revolve around work.  Jujutsu, curses, and everything in between was on the back burner for now.  Or at least, once he wrapped up this assignment.
And as expected, the assignment took less time than the time they spent traveling.  (y/n) barely got a good look at the Grade Two before it was told to drop dead and- well, it dropped dead.  She didn’t exactly expect Inumaki to need any assistance, he’d made it pretty clear that her company wasn’t needed on the assignment.  However, seeing him in action up close was…
It’s just that she’d somehow let herself forget just how powerful the Inumaki Clan was.  Maybe she’d separated Toge from the rest of the clan in her mind, but watching him exorcize a curse and then zip up his collar again in the matter of a minute and a half was…
She has to clear her throat and make herself appear busy checking the content of her purse as they leave the site.  The heart of Yokohama, and the tea shop, was a little bit of a walk.  Luckily Inumaki was busy gulping down two- no, three- bottles of cough medicine.  By the time the third is gulped down, (y/n) finds her voice.  Her thoughts, however, are still a bit muddled.
“Do you want to stop for another?” She asks, gesturing to the empty mini bottle he’d just shoved into his pocket.  “Looks like there’s a convenience store right here” 
His eyes follow her gaze, but there’s an uncertainty in them as he seemingly ignores the offer.
“What?” (y/n) frowns as they grow nearer to the store without planning on stopping in.  “Clearly your throat hurts, since you’re throwing back that medicine like it’s tequila” 
That earns her a curious look, a raised eyebrow questioning her choice of drink.  But this time, it’s her turn to ignore him.
“C’mon, we’ll be quick” She says, turning to head into the store with or without him.
Toge huffs, but finds his feet dragging behind her path anyways.
(y/n) hovers around as Toge picks up two more bottles of cough syrup.  She makes a face when he chooses bubblegum, her nose wrinkling at the all-too childish choice.  Toge’s question of her disgust doesn’t need to be voiced with a rice ball ingredient.
“Bubblegum?” She asked, eyes locking on the medicine in his hand before looking up at him again.  “Are you five?” 
His eyes roll, but it’s quick enough that he’s still able to catch the smile she’s trying to bite back.
She might not have his little language perfectly translated in her mind, but she has a pretty good feeling that he’s cursing her out with a few muttered ikuras under his breath.  She barely hides her laughter as she follows him to the counter.
It’s hard not to notice the way the clerk stares.  She knows they’re not trying to be rude, they are an odd pair at the counter.  In matching black uniforms and three arms between them- not to mention Toge’s in a collar that makes him look like he could be casing the joint- but still, something unsettles her the longer the girl on the other side of the counter stares.
Knowing that saying something about the staring would make things worse, she decides to keep her mouth shut as Toge exchanges the money for his medicine.  But that doesn’t mean she’s not making a perfectly clear point by staring down the cashier with an intensity she’s only ever felt while staring a curse straight in it’s soulless eyes.  She gets a much more pleasing reaction from the non-sorcerer though.  As soon as their eyes cross paths, they’re much quicker in retrieving Toge’s change and receipt.  (y/n) can’t help the smug smile on her face once they’re able to turn and leave the store, the clerk barely able to mumble out a ‘have a good night’.
Toge may have had a small bit of tunnel vision opening up his medicine and chugging down the relieving, bubblegum tasting fluid.  But he was a trained jujutsu sorcerer, he could tell when there was suspicious activity in his peripherals.  And (y/n’s) fixed gaze on the corner store’s window was rather odd.
He gives her a look, but she’s more focused than he had been, and it takes a small nudge to her elbow to disconnect her hunter’s glare.
“What?” She asks, innocent and curious.
With his collar unzipped from his earlier medicine-chugging, she can see the awkward smile he wears as he questions her silently.  She knows what he’s trying to ask, but she feigns confusion and tries to brush off the moment.  Inumaki lets her, but only on the condition that she seems to give him the attention she’d previously fixed on the store.
With his throat feeling healed and the pleasantness of bubblegum replacing the metallic taste of blood on his tongue, Toge continues on their walk towards the tea shop he’d been looking forward to all day.  One cup of tea from there would do better work than five bottles of cough syrup- no matter the delicious pink flavor.
(y/n) tries to put the experience at the corner store behind her as they walk in a comfortable silence.  It wasn’t her place to take offense from the staring anyways, she’s sure Inumaki’s been on the receiving end of odd looks and lingering eyes his whole life.
Still, it makes her uneasy to think about him being treated differently than anyone else.  It wasn’t fair.
Wanting to put an end to their silence, Inumaki pulls out his phone and starts typing.
[inumaki toge]: the least you could do is be the chatty one btw
(y/n) feels the buzz of a notification in her pocket, but she pays it no mind at all.  It takes a laugh and a nudge from Inumaki for her to realize he’s the one texting her, and she laughs awkwardly with him as she pulls her phone out.
They continue to text rapidly back and forth as they walk.
[y/n]: it’s rude to text when you have company btw 
[inumaki toge]: would u rather i just curse u then
[y/n]: would U rather i just DIE then ?? 
[inumaki toge]: ur just grouchy that u didn’t get to exorcize that curse :p
She looks up at him then, fixing him a glare that just couldn’t have been conveyed the same way from an emoji.  He stares back at her for a minute, a smile that was a little too cocky on his face.  Her hard set eyes wander his face for a moment, she’d still never gotten used to seeing those markings on display, but the furrow in her brow remained.
He turns away to type again, and seconds later her phone vibrates in her hands.
[inumaki toge]: i looked pretty cool tho didn’t i? was i impressive? i’m thinking about being the first jujutsu influencer.
She barks out a laugh so unexpected that they both share the same look of surprise on their faces.  A softer, more bashful laugh comes out at her as she nods her head in confirmation.
“Yeah, Inumaki.  You looked very cool” Even the word comes out like it’s an immature compliment, but a compliment nonetheless.  He beams back at her.
[inumaki toge]: just toge.
“Okay” (y/n) nods at her phone, her lips moving like she’s going to call him by his preferred name, but no sound comes out, and she finds herself closing her mouth just as quickly.
[inumaki toge]: otherwise i’ll feel like ur teacher.  and that’s weird.
“Well, to be fair, you’re sort of my teacher,” She says, turning away from her phone to speak directly to him.  “You know, you’ve taught me how to teach,” She clarifies.  With an absent mind she tucks her phone back into her pocket.  “I know I agreed to it and all, but I probably would’ve walked out a few days ago if it weren’t for you.  I definitely don’t have the patience for this job- or any qualifications, actually,” 
Toge snorts and shakes his head with his disbelief in her.  She might not have sought out this job, but she didn’t have to be so hard on herself.
“Seriously, I think my students would have killed each other if it weren’t for your guidance.  Now they actually… almost tolerate each other.  It’s a miracle, really” 
Inumaki types on his phone again.
[inumaki toge]: don’t give us too much credit.  that would’ve happened eventually
“You think?” (y/n) scoffs, recalling how her pair of students were at each other’s throats when she met them.
[inumaki toge]: ofc.  they’re crazy about each other XD
“What!?” (y/n) shrieks as her eyes scan over his text a few more times before turning to him.  “Did you get cursed back there or something?” She accuses, a wild look in her eye and a grin of disbelief on her lips.  But a smile nonetheless, Toge returns it.  “They can’t stand each other!” 
He shrugs a shoulder, his smile softening with his gaze as he watches her struggle to understand where he was coming from.
“You know I don’t let them spar with each other right? They’re too rough! They’ll hurt each other more than they could get hurt out on an assignment” 
Toge chuckles, his teeth showing through his grin as he shakes his head at her before sending another message.  His amusement practically glowed through his features, so much so (y/n) couldn’t tear her eyes away from him while he was texting.
[inumaki toge]: sounds like rising tension to me~ 
[inumaki toge]: fr tho they had a thing for each other before you took over for fushiguro.  they’re at each other’s throats 24hrs a day but only cuz they got it bad.
“Got it bad?” (y/n) repeats in a mumble to herself.  She gives him a deadpan look, silently telling him she thought he was an insane person, but Toge only grins back at her.
“Salmon cod roe” He shrugs again, but before the conversation could go any further, he’s pointing to their destination and they’re crossing the street.  
As they enter the tea shop, (y/n) makes a mental note not to forget what he’d said.  Maybe she would feel differently when she saw her students tomorrow.  Inumaki- Toge- had known them longer than her, maybe he was onto something.
It’s pretty quiet inside, only a few other people sitting around the small cafe.  Some with company, talking quietly so as not to disturb the peaceful atmosphere for the others dining alone, accompanied only by a book or their studies.  The quietness, surprisingly, isn’t unsettling to (y/n).  She actually smiles contentedly as they find a two-seated table near the window.  There’s menus already placed at the table, although small, their detailing is adorable.  (y/n’s) compelled to pick one up and scan over it, despite having known exactly what she was going to order before walking in.
Toge lifts the other menu off the table, just enough to appear as though he was giving it a glance, but anyone paying attention would have seen that he hadn’t taken his eyes off of his company since they’d sat down.
“I think I’ll just get what I- what?” 
(y/n) starts to speak, but when she lifts her gaze from the paper she finds Toge staring at her so blatantly she can’t be bothered to finish her thought.  Her voice softens upon catching his eyes, suddenly nervous, although she can’t explain why, perhaps she’d just worried that she’d disturbed the quiet peace of the shop.
Toge shakes his head, assuring her there was nothing on his mind, and while she relaxes some knowing that he wasn’t trying to silently warn her about some unknown rule of speaking, her heart had yet to stop skipping every other beat as she waits for the rest of the explanation as to why he’d been staring.
He opens his mouth, and for a second the both of them almost forget.  Forget that he’s not going to say something of substance, something real.  They both wait for that split second for him to say what’s on his mind.  And they share a sheepish smile when he closes his mouth again, biting his lip before the smile could do a 180 and kill the vibe.
(y/n) winces for him when his eyes return to the menu, and she watches his hand reach for the zipper to his collar.  She’s compelled to tell him to leave it open- although she doesn’t find the courage for such words before a waitress strolls by for their order.
Toge points to the tea he wants on the menu, and she finds herself following suit when it’s her turn to order.  She can feel his eyes on her, wide with surprise as she wordlessly places her order, but once the waitress disappears, it’s silent between them again.
She struggles to look at him, not because she doesn’t want to, but because she can’t help herself from doing so.  He’d closed his collar only halfway, barely enough to cover the markings on his face, and yet enough to reveal whenever he smiled or winced or frowned.  Her eyes keep wandering around the room before going back to him, again and again, each time looking somewhere new.  The smallest peek of black ink near his mouth, the wisps of blonde hair that fell at the tips of his ears, the violet eyes that seemed to hold all the words his mouth couldn’t say.  Maybe that’s why it was so hard to look at him- it was the intensity.
“You’re being really quiet” She says after a few minutes of looking and looking away.  Toge’s stunned for a moment, before a laugh bursts through at the odd comment.  
The corner of her lips twitch momentarily, proud of her attempt to make him laugh working.
He pulls his phone out, laying it on the table to type easier with one hand, poking about on the screen like a child learning how to use a keyboard.  (y/n) pulls her own phone out as she awaits his message, but she keeps her attention on him as she does.  With his focus on the screen, there’s less of an intensity for her to stare into.
[inumaki toge]: found this place on an assignment here last year.  the tea is magic.  better than rct
“That so?” (y/n) hums as she’s typing back a response.  Toge hums in confirmation.  She doesn’t realize that as she types, he keeps his attention on her, just as she’d done for him.
[y/n]: i’ve ordered the same thing since i was a kid, so hopefully it doesn’t disappoint 
[inumaki toge]: that’s a lot of pressure to put on tea
[y/n]: no, the pressure is all on you 
[inumaki toge]: so it’s my fault if you don’t like the same cup of tea you’ve had all your life? 
“Mhm” (y/n) hums, lifting her head from the screen to catch his reaction, only again to find him already staring at her.  
The amused smirk she’d been wearing as they texted back and forth faltered, replaced by a soft surprise that Toge grew quite fond of seeing on her, even for a moment.  He doesn’t think about how his gaze is so obviously focused on her lips, because he doesn’t really think about anything at all.  With a blank mind he’s able to better appreciate her beauty.
(y/n’s) not sure what the look on his face means, she’s not able to read it as well as she’s typically able, and the realization makes her nervous again.  She can feel warmth spreading in her cheeks, and a similar feeling spiking in her chest.  What was that? 
Toge’s eyes shift up to hers, and he lets himself enjoy the way she sits there with her own eyes so wide he knows she’s waiting for him to explain the long silent stare.  Momentarily, he’s grateful for an ability such as his.  He doesn’t have to deliver an explanation in a timely manner, if at all.  He could keep on staring, and try his best to communicate his train of thought with his eyes alone.
“So… how much sign language do you know?” (y/n) asked, her voice quieter than she intended it to be.  
It can’t be explained, but everything suddenly feels more intimate now.  Like if she were to speak in a volume above a whisper, the rest of the world would come back into view.  But the rest of the world remains a watercolor background, and all she knows is sitting at this table.
Toge flattens his hand and shakes it back and forth, indicating a little, before he quickly types at his phone.
[inumaki toge]: learning a little here and there.  for the kids really.  panda is trying too.
(y/n) nods.  “Is there anything worth teaching?” 
Toge smiles, and for a few minutes he shows her a few motions for her to repeat before he texts her their meaning.  She gets the basics down pretty easy, such as introductions and greetings.  He doesn’t know how much he should teach her, but soon enough the waitress is returning with their tea and the topic moves on to something new again anyways.
He waits to take a sip of his, too curious to watch (y/n’s) first reaction to her own drink.
There’s something so plainly pretty about the picture before him that if it wouldn’t be odd, he would raise his phone and snap the picture to retain it’s memory in a physical form.  The way she captivates his entire attention has him feeling like he’s seventeen again.  Some of it might have to do with the warm lighting, the quiet atmosphere, but his thoughts are on such a simple track of adoration that he doesn’t think too much about how pretty her hands look gently wrapped around the mug- just that they are pretty.  
She’s pretty.  
And he’s… a goner.
She’s smiling when she lowers her drink after a sip, and Toge releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding.
“It’s good,” She voices her opinion after a moment, her hands still wrapped around the mug even as she rests it on the table.  “Definitely worth the trip out here.  Even if I didn’t get to have any of the fun” 
The movement of Toge’s hand is quick, as he gestures downward before tapping his nose and repeating the same motion.  He does it a second time just for the emphasis of trying to communicate something to her.  It takes her a moment to understand, but despite having a very minimal understanding of sign language, she comes to her conclusion quicker than he would have thought.
“Fun,” She repeats the motion he’d made, two fingers tapping her nose before bringing her hand downwards towards the table.  Toge nods in affirmation, a smile breaking across his face at her quick wit.  “This is fun?” She makes her guess at what he’d said, and his smile only widens as he nods again.  “This is fun,” The second time she repeated it was to reaffirm the motion in her mind, hoping a mental note would help her remember the small bit of signing for later.  
Then, for a third time, she quietly repeats “This is fun”, and Toge seems to understand that she was agreeing with his statement.  This is fun.  They’re having fun.  Together.  Like this.
It’s quiet between them as they sip their tea, but it’s not an awkward silence.  It’s comfortable, sitting together in the quaint shop and enjoying their warm drinks.  Time seems to fly by even without conversation, and they find themselves paying and leaving before they know it.
There seems to be no rush on their walk to the train station.  Neither of them even bother to check the schedule on the way.  Tokyo would be there no matter what time they returned, they were sure.
The silence lingers for a bit longer, but eventually Toge can’t help but pull out his phone and strike up a conversation.
[inumaki toge]: maybe next time i’ll let you do the exorcizing 
(y/n) shoots him a look when she reads his text, her brow raised but the rest of her face so expressionless it’s hard for him to get a read on what she’s thinking.  He’s starting to get the feeling that she likes it that way.
[y/n]: next time? 
He doesn’t need to text her when he can just nod his head.  Her lips twitch, but she manages to keep them in a straight enough line that he still can’t tell what she’s thinking about.  Nonetheless, he beams back at her, and he holds her stare for a moment longer than he should have before he’s texting her again.
[inumaki toge]: you seem thrilled
(y/n) lets out a dry laugh at the equally dry message.
“I’m only around a couple more days,” She replies, and the disappointment Toge feels is immediate and obvious in the way he deflates.  Still, she continues to explain, “Tokyo might have a curse issue, but it can’t be so bad they have to send their best and brightest every night, hm?” 
There’s hesitation in his eyes as he thinks about what he should type out next.  (y/n’s) grown rather patient with the way he communicates, so she doesn’t seem to realize that his silence isn���t due to the limitations of Cursed Speech.
Even once he begins typing, his thumb is slow.
[inumaki toge]: you’d be surprised.  tokyo might need a little extra help
He glances over at her as she reads his message, and his thumb begins to type out a second message before she could reply first.
[inumaki toge]: you could always stay a little longer
Again, he watches her as she watches her screen.  Where her thumbs had previously hovered over her keyboard, she moves them away now.  Leaving no intention of texting back a response.  Toge feels the pace of his heart begin to slow as the organ plummets to his stomach.  Suddenly filled with dread, he fixates his stare on the station ahead of them.  He thinks if he were to look at her now, when she’s so clearly rejected the idea, that she would see the disappointment on his face.
Without a word or text shared, the pair get inside and track down the evening schedule.  Toge’s pretty sure that there’s a faster pace to her steps than before.  The dread only worsens at the thought that suddenly she’s in a rush just to wait for a train.
Once they’re stopped again, (y/n) lets out a sigh and turns towards him.  He waits for her to begin her explanation, her rejection, but it takes a few more seconds before she actually voices her thoughts.
“It’s not a surprise… right?” Is the first thing she slowly says, and Toge can’t say he understands what she means.  He can’t really say anything, but this is different.  “I mean, I agreed to two weeks, you were there,” 
His brows furrowed into a bored look, and she winced.
“And I told you I wasn’t cut out for the whole teaching thing, I’ve barely been getting by- and I might hate it sometimes but I do miss assignments you know” 
In a stressed, jerky movement, Toge raises his phone and shakes it, reminding her of the offer he’d just given her.  (y/n) frowns, and he groans as he types a quick text.
[inumaki toge]: if you really wanted, you could take assignments here
He can tell it doesn’t make a difference when her face doesn’t change upon reading it.  He huffs again, a muttered “Ikura” under his breath, which she hears and bristles up to right away.
“Hey,” The offense in her tone is clear, and Toge’s partially surprised she even understood what he meant.  “I don’t understand why you’re getting upset, I’ve been clear from the minute I got here that I’d be leaving when the time was up.  And time’s up” 
With a glare that he can’t help, Toge texts her again.
[inumaki toge]: you’re not leaving.  you’re running away
“I am not!” She argues, her voice raising more than she wanted it to.  A few other people waiting for the train send the pair a dirty look for disrupting the peace and quiet of an empty train station, but she pays them no mind as she continues arguing.  “I’m going home.  I don’t live here and I don’t want to live here- I didn’t want to be here to begin with, remember?” 
[inumaki toge]: but then things changed.
“No, they didn’t” (y/n) replies, focusing on her screen.
[inumaki toge]: yes they did and you know it
“That doesn’t even matter.  I was never going to stay” 
[inumaki toge]: it does matter.  it matters because you don’t really want to leave, and i really don’t want you to go.
Her head darts upward and she stares at him now, the weight of the confession hitting her harder than either of them would have thought.  Her typical neutral expression is washed away by something else- something serious, and almost concerned.  Her brows are knitted together as she stares at him as if she’s waiting for him to speak.  Eyes round and lips parted around words that aren’t coming to her fast enough, they stand silently and stare at each other.
Before the right thing to say could come to her, the ring signaling the train was pulling in began to go off, and shortly after the train entered the station.  The expected chaos of it all- the screech of metal on metal, the sudden gust of air whipping around hair and clothes- it feels nonexistent as they stand there together.
Nothing happens.  The train comes to a stop, the doors open, and Toge tilts his head to beckon her to follow him onto the car.  (y/n) follows a few paces behind.  An indescribable but momentary paralyzing sensation buzzing through her legs as she forces them to move.
They take their seats, phones in hand but no messages being typed between them.  (y/n’s) leg begins to bounce the longer Toge stares out the window without a thought to share.
She hates the anxious feeling that settles under her skin the longer they sit like this.
“You know…” Her voice is a mumble when she finds the courage to speak, ten minutes into their ride.  “It’s not like I hated my time here,” 
It does the trick in getting him to look at her, at least.  But he makes no effort to text, or sign.  Instead, he just stares blankly, telling her that it wasn’t good enough.  She frowns, holding his stare.
“And it’s not like I’d never come back” 
This time he scoffs, an unamused smile on his face as he shakes his head.  The bitterness wafting off of him is almost as strong as his cursed energy.  Without words, text, or movement, he’s able to say you’re not coming back, as clear as day.
“I would come back,” (y/n) argues quietly, and his violet eyes drift back to her with the realization that she seemed to understand exactly what he was thinking.  If only she would extend the same ability to him, so he wouldn’t have to decipher all the layers of bullshit she uses to cover what she really thinks.  “I would” She says it again, a certainty in her eyes that tells him she’s being sincere.
Toge huffs in defeat, unlocking his phone.
[inumaki toge]: what is it that you’re so insistent to go back to?
He doesn’t mean for it to be a harsh message, but that doesn’t make the blow to her ego any easier.  But she knows he’s not wrong, either.  There’s no family she’s in contact with.  Her work leaves her no time for friendships, either.  She doesn’t even have a pet.  All she has is an undecorated apartment with a fridge that has one box of leftovers that would need to be thrown out upon her return and a perfectly made bed that hasn’t been slept on in weeks- even before she left.
There’s fundamentally nothing for her to go home to.
Her lower lip wobbles, but she’s quick to bite down on it before it could go noticed.  Toge’s pretty sure he knows what he saw, though.
Setting his phone on his leg, he reaches his hand out to her.  His touch is gentle, but apprehensive as he sets his hand on her wrist.  It speaks volumes, though.  She can see, and feel, all of the sympathy he’s trying to communicate.  With a short squeeze, he pulled his hand away again, much too soon, but he’d said exactly what he needed to say with that movement alone.
Why can’t you stay?
Her mouth opens, “of course I can’t stay!” sitting right at the tip of her tongue, but this time she’s the one with the Cursed Speech, and she couldn’t possibly say it out loud.  But it’s there, they both know it’s there, they can practically see it.
(y/n) shuts her mouth, wobbly lips forming into a frown upon seeing Toge’s disappointment in her silence.
She’s known him all of two weeks, and his disapproval wrecks her.
“I…” It’s broken, hardly a word, hardly a syllable, but it’s a start.  “What would that say?” 
His brows twitch, then draw together.  Confusion, maybe concern, is written all over him as his eyes wander her features, doing their best to understand her.  She doesn’t make it any easier on him.
With a slight shake of his head, he gives in and asks her what she means.
“If I stayed, just cause- just- just on a whim, for no reason other than-” 
She’s stammering, hardly making sense, and she’s just barely managed to keep her voice down so as not to draw attention from the other passengers scattered around.  But even she has to cut herself off before she could say something that could embarrass herself.  Although, if she were honest with herself, that ship had sailed.
Toge tilts his head, prompting her to finish her thought, but the longer he sits, and stares, and waits, the more (y/n) seems to withdraw.  Her mouth shuts, her brows seem to fall, and he worries that means she’ll be keeping the rest of her thoughts to herself.  He frowns at her, his curious look turning pointed to voice his irritation.
(y/n) figures she could either find another way to explain herself, or she could be grateful that the train was pulling into their station now and she could let the conversation die within this car when she hops out.
The screeching halt followed by the squeak and cry of the doors sliding open is rough on the ears but (y/n) couldn’t have been more relieved as she shoots up from the seat and rushes out of them.
The unsaid words aren’t forgotten, they couldn’t be when they’re tethered to the both of them, following them off the train and through the station.  It doesn’t matter how her stride races past his, the invisible chain still lingers.
She’s not winded from how quick she’s walking- of course not she’s a trained sorcerer- but somehow she’s not taking in air fast enough and she finds her chest rising and falling with short gasps of breath barely relieving her for a second at a time before she’s struggling to gulp down another.
Toge lets her storm off for a few paces.  Whether it’s because he wants her to get it out of her system, or if he needed his own train of thought to catch up with his actions, he couldn’t be sure.  But at some point following after her wasn’t enough.
(y/n) chokes mid breath when she’s halted from speed walking any further.  A hand latches around her wrist, and she has the audacity to look shocked when she’s whirled around.
“Toge!” She shouts, and they both seem to wince at the realization that it’s the first time she’s called him by his first name.
His brows are drawn together, and his eyes shift between hers and the arm he’s holding a few times before he lets her go.  He expected her to huff and take off again.  Maybe she’d speed walk all the way back to Jujutsu Tech, pack her bags, and disappear before the sunrise.
Her hand falls limply back to her side, a visible weight resting on her shoulders as she seems to shrink before him.  It’s odd to see her this way, but he doesn’t know how to communicate it at the moment.
“You barely know me” Her voice isn’t a whisper, but it’s too quiet for Toge’s liking.  He fights the urge to roll his eyes by taking a slow blink.
His hand gestures towards his chest, then taps his head before pointing towards her.  Her lips drop open, but Toge’s quick to repeat the action.  One sharp gesture towards himself, a jerky point at his skull, and then an even more exaggerated point towards her.  His finger stays in her direction until she shuts her mouth again, and he knows she won’t try to argue again.
Did he know everything about her? No.  But right now, it’s what he wanted more than anything.  And if he couldn’t get her to understand that, then he might go crazy.
“I don’t- I don’t understand,” She starts, and Toge groans, his head hanging back as he silently curses the clouds.  “No,” She steps forward, reaching towards his arm only to hesitate once she’s close to grabbing him.  “I meant… I meant I don’t understand why” She clarifies.
There’s nothing but softness behind his eyes as he gazes down at her, but the intensity of the violet still has a hitch forming in her throat.  The way he looks at her, as if she hadn’t just tried to storm out on him, positively makes her knees weak in a way that she can no longer ignore.  
That feeling she’s been pushing away, the stuttering heartbeat, the rush of adrenaline, she couldn’t ignore it now if she wanted to.  Not with it reflecting in Toge’s eyes looking directly back at her.
Her own eyes stretch as round as saucers, realization draining her face of color before coming back in a creeping pink blush.  
“And I- I barely know you,” She stammers over her words, but there’s something different in her tone now.  As if she’s trying to convince herself, rather than him.  Toge nods his head from side to side- he can’t argue, but he doesn’t think she wants him to anyways.  “It would just be- ridiculous to stay, out of nowhere, just- just pack up my life and start all over here- I- I’m not even that familiar with Tokyo,” 
He chuckles, amusement flickering in his eyes as he watches her grasp at straws.  A last ditch effort at explaining away the feeling.
“And I’m a shit teacher… those kids will eat me alive if I can’t get my shit together…” Her voice goes quieter as she trails off, glancing away as her eyes search around the empty street for some sort of solution.  “I can’t just uproot my life for you, you know” 
And then (y/n’s) head snaps forward again, noticing much too late the implication of her words.  Toge’s already raising a brow at her choice of words, a shit eating grin splitting his face.
He points his finger to his chest with an attitude that would make her glare at him if she could will the muscles in her face to do so.  But her lips are working on a mind of their own, twitching into a nervous smile.  She has to shake her head to combat the stupid dopey smile on her own face.  It only seems to further Toge’s amusement.
“Don’t- don’t look at me like that!” She’s shouting again, but it’s useless.  She’s already spoken those previously unsaid words, breaking their tether and letting them free for him to have and hold onto.
And hold onto them, he did.
“Salmon~” He sing-songs the riceball ingredient in a knowing, teasing tone.  He enjoys it far too much when her nervous smile makes an attempt at frowning, only for the corners of her lips to wobble and tilt upwards at him again- as if smiling at him came naturally to them.
A breathless, humorless laugh escapes her.  She pushes her fingers against her temples, as if it could bring some sort of peace to her chaotic mind.  She must be going crazy to actually be caving, right?
“I’ve lost my mind” She mumbles out.
Toge rolls his eyes at her dramatics, unable to help it this time.  He brings his hand out to brush his fingers under her chin, just enough to pull her attention back towards him- and returns color to her cheeks once more- before he reaches for one of her hands and pulls it towards him.  Mindlessly, she takes a half step forward.
It’s quiet for a moment.  And it should be uncomfortable, standing in silence in the middle of a sidewalk.  The sun had set a while ago, leaving only the street lamps to illuminate the surrounding area.  There are a few people still out and about, some rushing home late, others strolling casually, but even as people awkwardly sidestep the two of them, it’s hard to really give it much notice.
Not too unexpected, (y/n) breaks the silence first.
“There must be a rice ball ingredient that would tell me what you’re thinking,” She sighs, her nervous smile growing softer, fonder, more sure of itself.
Toge chuckles, and she can’t help but watch his lips tilt into a smile.  The slight dip of skin where his markings are, where a dimple is almost perfectly centered by ink.  Her gaze is as soft as her smile- just as fond, just as sure of herself.
“You know… you’re nothing like I thought you’d be when I first met you” 
“Hm?” Toge hums, his head tilting just slightly.  He already knows that he’s doomed to have a terrible first impression when people meet him.
(y/n) nods, her eyes haven’t torn away from his lips and the markings that frame them yet.
“I thought you were… I dunno, different,” Her own voice lowers to a near hum, something curious lighting up in her eyes.  “I don’t know if you remember, but that exchange event, when we were still students, you made me run away from a fight,” 
Toge nods, recalling the day just fine.  Finally, her eyes flicker back up to meet his.
“I kind of hated you for that you know,” 
It’s not funny, but he’s laughing quietly.  (y/n) doesn’t understand it.  He just shrugs impishly.
“I don’t like being told to walk away from a fight,” She says, a seriousness in her tone that stood out in the otherwise tranquil moment.  “Actually, I don’t really like being told what to do at all,” She adds, almost as an afterthought.
Her eyes shift a few times back to his mouth, she does nothing to hide her glances.
Inumaki’s expression is knowing, she’d made it abundantly clear that she didn’t take direction from others very well, she didn’t have to tell him.  It took him, like, three tries just to get her to go out for tea.
“But…” She sighs through a long exhale, trying to release her pent up nerves.  “If you told me to stay, I wouldn’t really have another choice…” Her words are slow, careful, just like her eyes as she peeks up at him properly.  “Literally” She tacks on at the end with the tiniest of smiles.
Inumaki raises his eyebrows, unable to help the way his lips tilt into a smirk at the idea.  She’s not wrong, if he really wanted her to stay, he had just the right cursed technique to make that happen.  His eyes shift between hers, if only to appreciate the way her impatience becomes her, no matter how hard she’s trying to mask it.
He opens his mouth, takes a breath, and leans down to her height.  (y/n’s) eyes don’t blink once as she’s rendered breathless from anticipation.
Just as it looks like he’s going to say something, she does blink, and she nearly misses it.  Toge’s quick, leaning in swiftly to brush his lips over her cheek in a chaste kiss.  Her eyes are flying open to stare at him in shock when he pulls away just as fast as he’d leaned in.
She opens her mouth to say something- probably some sort of protest out of shock, but no words come out, and there’s no denying that she’s starting to grin.
Toge’s already smiling ear to ear, seemingly proud of himself.  He doesn’t give her any extra time to think of some witty thing to say, either.  Just holds his arm open to drape around her shoulders so that when they continued their walk, she was right next to him.  Still shell shocked, (y/n) finds herself blindly going along with him.  She doesn’t brush off his arm, or speed away, she keeps her pace purposefully in sync with his.  And after a few strides, she’s even closer to him than before.
Their walk is quiet for a while, each too preoccupied by their heads from that one little kiss.
(y/n) was practically derailing- had he really reduced her to this simple state from a kiss on the cheek? Was she actually making a mental checklist for moving preparations? Would she always feel a burst of electricity inside of her when he was close? 
It would take a business day or two for her to regain her composure and open her eyes to what she really wanted.  But Toge was happy to wait, especially when it meant he’d be the one right there when she was ready to admit how she felt.
Speaking off- Toge couldn’t wipe the grin off his face the whole journey back to Jujutsu Tech.  It wasn’t a long walk, but it felt like an eternity when he had the girl of his dreams under his arm, still blushing from one little kiss.
What an excitement it would be to get to do it again, and have her understand him.
619 notes · View notes
velvetypoets · 7 days ago
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Mister pitch perfect
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The perfect Gryffindor golden boy has gone off his rails to catch a Black daughter.
Warnings: James Potter x reader fanfic, James is down bad, I tagged marauders but no peter, Slytherin reader, Black family reader, reader is portrayed as she/her, reader centric, forbidden love trope, SFW, James perspective
havent done this in a while and this will be the first time im posting on this platform. im very sorry if its quite messy!
this was supposed to be a oneshot but i drag it too much. so it'll be some sort of a series oneshot? will also be posted on ao3 soon!
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It was never meant to be. James Fleamont Potter was basically molted into the perfect specimen of man and every soul who has ever walked Hogwarts knew. Sure he would cause trouble every then and again with his fellow mates. Yet of course, James would always dazzle his way out of it with a few charming smiles or reasonings to squeal his way out of being blamed.
He was confident, charismatic, spotless.
And when he meets eyes with you, it was set. James is sitting at his usual spot with the marauders at supper when the moment arrives. You were fixing your necklace to your neck at the Slytherin table, struggling with the clasps as your face scrunches in frustration. James almost walks the whole way over to you and offers his assistance right then and there.
"Stop undressing my cousin with your eyes, Prongs," Sirius brings James back to reality with a slap on the back of his head. He seems to still be having his feast so that was new of him to pick on James in that setting. Remus raises an eyebrow as he stares at the two, "Since when do you care about the other Blacks?"
"That was foul, Pads!" James yell as he rubs his head and glares at his mate, he's used to Sirius playfights but that slap seems to be sincere. He tries to focus on the conversation as he tries to find you again on the table across. You seemed to have moved next to Regulus as he helps you with your necklace. James lets out an involuntary sigh.
"She's different, Moony. She's on the edge too. Pretty sure she's going to find a way to run when she hits 18," Sirius lets out a scowl, "Heard she is to be arranged with Nott. Bloody brilliant that."
"Nott? That Nott? Surely you're joking. That bastard can't even keep his owl alive for a week! How's he going to keep a wife that young?!" Remus exclaims in disbelief. Whipping his head to take a good look at you now that you're a big deal. "I wish I was. I love you but seriously mate, don't. You're big enough trouble yourself," Warns Sirius with his fork right to to James face. A juicy piece of meat dangling right on it.
He bites it though. Sirius lets out a shrieking squeal of, "My meat!", erupting laughter at the Gryffindor table as James chews proudly with a sly smile across his face. The boisterous sound turns a few heads, including yours. Your brows raised at the sudden commotion, only to have the red of your cheeks creep in as you find one of your cousin being the center of it. He watches as you rub your cheeks to hide the tint.
James gulps the meat down. He's quite full himself but he must admit, it's nothing like he has ever had.
——————————————————————————
The next time he sees you, you are sitting by yourself writing in parchments on a patch of grass by the lake. James is in a broom practicing to catch the golden snitch on Hogwarts grounds. Quite foolish but he's gotten bored of the arena and its currently being used by the Hufflepuff team anyways.
He's worried about you sitting all alone in this breeze though. It's quite cold and you don't seem to be wearing enough layers. He keeps a distance near a tree so as not to scare you, although he is quite discontent with seeing just your figure by the lake.
You whipped your head to the skies behind you, "Reggie? Is that you?" You ask calmly, your eyes not missing the shadowy figure blatantly hiding behind a tree, "I saw you from the reflection. Very funny, Regs."
James cracked a smile at your sarcastic tone. He even finds your voice perfect. He fixes himself a little before he reveals himself off the shade and lands in front of you, "So I'll take it you find me quite funny?"
Your eyes widened as you process the man in front of you. Why would James Potter—the Gryffindor golden boy—be here? And why is he talking to you now?
"You're not Reggie." You said still in shock, almost sounding like a question. Your brows are raised as you try to study his demeanor. He's holding his broom awkwardly in his arms, you've always thought James Potter's confident composure was permanent.
"Well if your standards of humour is a certain Regulus Black, I'm sure I'd be comical, love," He cracks a small smile and a hand extended to you, "Potter. James Potter."
You look at James like you're Newt Scamander finding a newfound beast, "I know who you are. Everybody does," You said in disbelief, finding the whole situation suspicious. The breeze of wind moves his curly hair to his face, framing it gracefully, "What I want to know is why are you doing this? We're not exactly fit to be friends."
"Why that's quite bold of you, lovely. Who said I'd like to be friends?" He said as he leans closer. You never noticed it before but his glasses are rather clean today, his hazy eyes look at you with glimmer in them you've never seen on anyone before. You think to yourself if its one of the charisma of being James Potter.
You stood your ground, you would have never thought to ever be face to face with this dazzling man in front of you. You are a Black though, your legs won't give in even if you try, "Well that's settled then. Are you here to pick a fight?" You ask him plainly, crossing your arms upon your chest.
James finds it adorable, he knows full well of his effects on people and especially of course girls. What he doesn't understand is the effect you have on him. "The contrary, darling. I have a proposition for you."
You lift a brow and yet let him continue, "I heard you're in quite the predicament with Nott. Now I know a way to get you out," His claim makes your eyes open, you let him continue. Words dripping in confidence, "A date. With me."
This time, you can't help but let out a laugh–of which James can't help but take in the sight. He's completely enamoured.
'What? Huh– Hold on. You can't be serious," You looked at him as if he had gone mad, the thought of a Black and a Potter dating is out of this world, "I don't know what kind of prank you're up to, but do you seriously think I'll fall for that?"
"Wait, I am serious! Picture this, if Nott knows you're going out with me he'd be livid, enough to break off the arrangement. I mean have you seen the way that scum looks at me? It's like he has this permanent face of eating vomit flavoured Bertie Bott's Beans!" He rants as he joined in on the laughter with you.
You are smiling as the laughter reduces to giggles. As stupid as it is, it has a good chance of actually working. You pondered, there's still one thing on your mind, "What's in it for you? Would I have to do anything?"
James let out a smile, his palms are sweating like he's deep into a Quidditch game, "Well I get to see Nott lose his bride—" He pauses, confronting himself whether to tell you the real truth or not, "I mean I'll also get a beauty on my side."
You roll your eyes at that, "Don't you try to charm me, Potter. Give me the real reason or its off. I have a feeling you need this more than I do,"
She's right, James thought. He was about to play it off if you denied it straight away, he wasn't entirely sure you would actually take him seriously. He grasps the sight of you for a bit before closing his eyes tight, "Okay, how about I tell you the reason in a week— Maybe a month. You don't have to do anything, we'd just go out like normal couples do. Sounds good to you?" He said, he extends his arms to you for a handshake. His thoughts full of prayers to Merlin so you wouldn't notice the tremble in his arm.
You grin the same one James had seen a million times on Sirius's face, the Black's grin of content. You shake his hand firmly, his big ones almost encasing yours, "You've got yourself a deal, Potter."
James is using every atom on his magical being to control his ecstasy as he smiles widely at you. Once the handshake is done he reaches for his scarf over his neck and wears it on you, "Nice doing business with you, sweetcheeks. I do hope you start wearing warmer clothes though. No snogging will be done if you're in Pomfreys care."
She looks good in my color
Well technically so is the color of a quarter of the schools because of course its a Griffyndor scarf.
"You surely don't expect me to go back. To my dorm. Through the halls, the stairs and the common room. With this on?"
Oh I won't regret this one bit, James thought. He chuckles at your words dripped in such a sarcastic tone, "Of course not, darling. Do you think I'm mad?"
He extends his arms for you to hold, "We'll go back together. Through the halls, the stairs, even the common room. I heard you folks have lovely parties there."
You let out a chuckle as you circle your arms around his, "Oh, the best ones. Your Gryffindors ass is so not invited though."
"Well at least I do have a lovely one, don't I?"
"Oh shut it, Potter!"
——————————————————————————
Another storm of commotion is coursing through Hogwarts. A lot has played it off as a mere prank. James grins at the thought of it. He has only you on his mind lately, cherishing the bits of conversation you and him had.
He's on his way to charms class this morning, one that inconveniently does not have you in it, he checked. He checked your schedule last night sneaking through administration with the invisibility cloak.
Moony and Pads by his side as usual. Sirius seems to still haven't caught wind of it, his hair tousled from a good sleep. Apparently he was up all night helping Remus solve a 10k piece magic puzzle.
Won't be long with how loud the students are gossiping though. James let out a coherent sighs. He had an amount of grins with knowing looks from a couple male students and even a pat on the back by a random Slytherin, "Alright, what is going on?" Remus breaks first. Stopping the two boys right before the class door.
James crackles a laugh, "What's going on? Nothing's going on, mate! What?" Moony lets out a drawled scowl on him, one he makes when he pieces that they're in some kind of trouble, "Why is everybody on Hogwarts up your pants then, Prongs?!"
Sirius yawns as he hugs James by the side to lean his head on him, "Yeah... Saw that too even if my eyes were closed the entire walk. You can tell us mate, come on," He does notice the lack of scarf on his mate's neck though, none in this rapidly chilly morning? "Prongsie, where's your scarf? I could really use a pillow here–"
"Oh! Thank Merlin! One second late and I would've thrown this in the bin. Here, take this off me," There you are with James Potter red and yellow scarf on your hands, just coming out the door. All three boys were quite startled, "What? Wait. This isn't your class," said James. His eyes land on the presence of a Slytherin scarf wrapping your neck. James wishes he could take that one instead.
"Yeah... I'm sort of risking being late to Dark Arts for this but I can't take the whispering anymore. I might square the next person who even looks at me!" You told him, your grip on his scarf tightens and James wishes the fabric would stretch upon your nails.
Sirius is well awake now, his bagged eyes darting between you and James as if you're both insane, "Hold–Hold on! What is this? What is happening, Why do you have James's scarf?" He cuts, going between you and James to put a distance and blocks James view. Remus gives James a 'he did warned you, mate' face at the side.
James on the other hand, in too much of a thrill of seeing you this early in the morning, "You could also just admit ya didn't want me to get cold, love. Thanks for the thought there," He said almost shouting as he stands on his tips to try and see you from above Sirius's head.
You let out an annoyed grunt, "Ugh I don't have time for this. Here Siri, give this to that stupid friend of yours. I'd like to keep my Dark Arts seat next to Cissy and Malfoy's been eyeing it like the vulture he is," You throw James's scarf to your cousin's head not caring if it covers his vision, it earns a few chuckles from nearby students. He trashes to take it off and looks at you in betrayal.
You're about to run off to Dark Arts and leave your cousin and his foolish mates when your feet stop and turn you back, "If you still want that date to happen. Expect my owl, Potter. She's a snow named Emerald."
"Oh and it is lovely to meet you, Remus. Do take care of my sod cousin and my idiot boyfriend. Make sure they're out of trouble," You smiled sincerely at Remus, you actually do admire him a little. You love dark arts and your professor rants and rants about Remus's talents.
Remus seems taken aback, but that would make the three of them. You left after he reciprocated your smile and responded with a polite, "You too, (Y/N)."
And as such, you scurried off in a rush to go shoo away Lucius Malfoy from your seat and save Narcissa. Leaving behind a bewildered Remus, an angered Sirius, and a lovestruck James.
James keeps his eyes on you until you turn the corridor, a stupidly huge smile stays on his lips. He turns to find the reality of Sirius's wrath upon him. Remus is quite literally holding back Sirius with his whole body, it's quite an advantageous turn of events that Sirius hasn't had his proper sleep yet.
"Boyfriend! Boyfriend?! When did you even– How is this— Let me go, Moony! He's going to have an earful!"
He definitely will get that earful later. James grins an apologetic smile at Remus as he picks up his scarf that fell to the ground. He could already smell the sweet of your scent from a distance.
Remus lets out a huffed noise, "You really do always get what you want don't you?"
James doesn't reply. He wraps his own scarf on his neck, embracing the warmth it does to his skin. Your scent crashes onto him like tidal waves. A tint of rose blooms on the pale of his cheeks.
He smiles faintly at the open skies over the hall window. He wishes for an owl he hadn't even met for safe travels.
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pretty-little-mind33 · 9 months ago
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James Potter x slytherin!fem!reader
Summary: Playing Quidditch against your secret boyfriend is usually fun…
Genre: Fluff/hurt and comfort <3
Warnings: rivalry, chaser!captain!james, chaser!captain!reader, secret relationship (previous enemies to lovers), injuries, swearing, protective!james (my baby), short-ish
JAMES POTTER MASTERLIST
It had begun innocently.
You and James had promised not to tell anyone about your relationship for one week. Only that week turned into another, which eventually turned into four, and now it's much too awkward announcing to the entire school that you've been dating James Potter—the same boy you have publicly spent years saying you couldn't stand—for almost six months.
So, you never did, and neither did he.
However, the upside of your little arrangement was that now Quidditch is endlessly more entertaining.
"You ready, Cap?" Anne, your seeker, asks as you secure your gloves around your wrists. You nod and pull on the straps tightly. This is possibly the most important game of the season and you're determined to win.
You drown out the crowd's cheers when you mount your broom, adjust your hair, and fly up to where your lovely boyfriend is waiting for you to shake his hand.
James looks handsome, with his messy curls messier from the wind, and your heart flutters unintentionally. "Y/l/n," he says and balances on his broom as he grins.
"Potter."
He holds out his arm and looks around at his team and then at yours. "Good luck," James says and you know him well enough to hear his sincerity.
You take his hand, your breath hitching when his thumb caresses across your knuckles. It's such a quick brush you almost think you'd imagined it, but then James sends you a smile—that smile—and you know you hadn't imagined anything.
You drop his hand but return his smile. "May the best team win," your voice is smooth and you hear James chuckle as you fly away from him. You don't dare look back as you hide your smile and nod to your teammates.
The game starts normally, but as time progresses it becomes obvious this particular match is more competitive than usual. James's players become more flustered as the game continues, but you don't concern yourself with them as Slytherin is in the lead. Which, to your dismay, is more uncommon than you would like considering James's team is talented.
Annoyingly talented.
However, you should have been concerned considering when Danny Shepard hits the bludger directly at you out of pure anger, you're unprepared.
The front of your broom shatters from the force and you let out a loud scream when you jerk to the side, your broom malfunctioning as you plummet to the ground.
You can hear some of your teammates call out your name in worry but when you fall onto the grass and roll into the sidelines of a muddy ditch. Your eyes water as a piercing pain makes your head pound.
"Y/n!" James's calls and when you sit up, you see him land on the ground. He lets his broom fall without a care and sprints over to you. He kneels next to you and gently holds your head up, "Shit, shit, shit, shit," James sounds terrified. You blink. The world around him is spinning and his features are blurry.
"Help!" James screams and your heart leaps. What the hell is he doing? Everyone will know. You try to shake your head to tell him to shut up but you just wince in pain. James loops his arm around your back and concern etches his face when you cry out in pain from his movement.
You don't remember much after that. Just that some teachers and your teammates had rushed to your side to make sure you were okay. You weren't. You remember some of James's friends had to hold him back when the teachers hurried you to the Hospital Wing.
However, you wake up to him next to you. James is still in his Quidditch uniform, his head in his arms, his arm crossed beside your hips, as his chest lifts and falls lightly.
You blink, adjusting to the dim light from the lamp, and your shifting must wake James up because he looks up. Sheet lines are drawn on his cheeks and his voice is hoarse when he mutters, "Baby?"
"Hi," you whisper, forcing a small smile.
It's as if his entire face brightens and in his excitement James jumps up and wraps his arms around your shoulders. "Merlin, you're really okay! I was so worried," his voice sounds tense and when you wince a little, he moves back like he'd burned you. "Sorry, sorry," he blushes pink and slumps down onto the chair again.
"It's okay, Jamie," you smile at him and then ask, "What happened?" You look around you. It's dark outside. You must have been passed out for a few hours, at the very least.
"Shepard aimed his bludger at you out of anger," James hurries to explain, "He's off the team. Definitively. No arguments."
You smile at him a little but ask the important question, "You continued the game, did you?"
James nods solemnly, "Yeah, we did," he pauses as if debating something, "Gryffindor won," he says after a moment. Your eyebrows scrunch hearing him and you groan, cursing. James is quick to hold your hand. "But you'll beat us next time, lovie. It was such a close game."
You roll your eyes at him, turning your head to bury your face into your pillow. "You're such a twat," you whine and then look up at him through your hair, "this is why I disliked you."
James's smile falters, seemingly a little hurt. "I'm being serious! You played well. Your entire team did," he whispers, stroking his thumb over your hand.
You snort, "Oh, I know you're being serious, James. You're too kind. It's infuriating."
"Would you rather I rub my win in your face?" James asks with a raise of his brow. You sit up and glare at him. Admittedly, James has never been humble about his team winning a game but this was different.
You're his girlfriend now. His injured, and incredibly competitive, girlfriend.
"Well, nothing would have stopped you before," you say and James rolls his eyes. He leans in closer.
"Well, back then, I wouldn't have cared that one of my players hit you like that."
You send him a suspicious look.
"Okay, I would have cared, but not this much."
You smile. As much as you hate James for his undeniable chivalry and how annoyingly kind-hearted he is, if he wasn't then he wouldn't be the person you loved. And oh boy, do you love him.
"I want everyone to know about us," you say suddenly. James's eyes round like saucers. His hand finds yours and he tilts his head like a puppy, an endearing confusion gracing his features. He squeezes your hand in his.
"You must have really hit your head hard baby–"
"No," you interrupt him, your voice coming out stern, "I'm ready. I'm not ashamed. I've never been ashamed. I just didn't want anyone to know because if they did then they'd meddle, and if didn't know then you were mine. Only mine."
A smile curls James's lips. "What's changed?"
You look into his eyes. "Well, now I want everyone to know you are mine."
James raises and eyebrow and he chuckles. "So basically, you're claiming me?"
"Yeah, I guess I am."
With a smile, James nuzzles into you and then kisses your cheek, right under one of your bruises. "Good, because everyone already knows about us. When you passed out, I made too much of a scene and the game was up," he says sheepishly, "It's all anyone is talking about apparently."
You giggle as his breath tickles your skin and you hold his nape. "Fucking let them, I don't care. All that matters is that you're mine."
"I am yours," James confirms into your ear, "Wholeheartedly yours, Y/n."
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