#I can get headaches from headbands too so ones that won’t feel like they will fall off but don’t squeeze too much would be good too I think

[the-sappho-of-lesbos]

I’m looking into using my NDIS funding to get some good quality and comfortable noise cancelling headphones that I can use to listen to podcasts/ audio books etc when out in public and feeling overstimulated but I’m not sure what ones are good in Australia ! So any thoughts or recommendations would be really appreciated ♥️

[errorpeachy]

☾ Will He?☽ 《Bakugo and Izuku X Reader》 Pt.2

Song: Will he - Joji

Hey bitches, take some more angst since the first part did tremendously well like holy shit-

I got knots all up in my chest.

You had been staying at Izuku’s house for the past week, and your days had consisted of crying, sleeping, working, and crying some more. Sometimes, Izuku managed to make you laugh, but for the most part, you had been stuck in a depressive state. Explaining to your receptionist what was going on, she was in the process of helping you issue a public statement saying you were no longer with the number two hero.

It was difficult to accept the fact that the Bakugo you once knew wasn’t the same Bakugo anymore. You two had been together for five years, so it was only understandable that you were hurting, but there were so many other things you were feeling. You felt anger at the fact he thought you were stupid enough to allow him to get away with it. You felt scared of the public and how they’d react, as well as the press. You felt so much disgust with yourself for allowing him to kiss you while being suspicious of another woman. Most of all, however, you were disappointed. Not in him, but yourself. You had played up this act, this lie that he had continued for two months, because you were too scared of the truth. You were scared of change, because he was all you ever knew. That wasn’t who you were.

Just know, I’m trying my best

You’d been recovering since the breakup, Izuku by your side. Slowly, he helped you back onto your feet, not financially, but emotionally. You were grateful every day for what he had done for you. He helped you the night you released your official statement, hugging you close as you cried into his chest. He took you out with your friends so you’d feel a little better, and he tried his best to do little things for you. Even though he was the number 1 hero, he still managed to remember things like your favorite candy or what kind of conditioner you preferred. It shocked you, to be honest. Bakugo never seemed to remember that kind of stuff.

Slowly, you went back to normal. A month passed since your breakup, and you were no longer holing yourself up in Izuku’s guest bedroom. You started looking for an apartment, and slowly, you felt yourself getting better. You were going to miss living with Izuku, but you were searching for something close by so you could still visit him whenever you wanted.

Currently, you were waiting for Izuku to meet up with you at your favorite café. He was going to help you pick an apartment complex today, and you were excited to see him as he had been working nonstop all week.

It had been fun, living with Izuku. You enjoyed being able to crack jokes while he cooked dinner and share a bowl of popcorn while watching mean girls, his unruly hair pushed back by a headband while he had a face mask on. It was funny to see him cranky in the morning, teasing him as you handed him his morning coffee. During the month, you had felt feelings bubble up in your chest for the broccoli-headed boy. You promptly shut those thoughts down. That was Bakugo’s childhood friend, and you were not about to get dragged into a love triangle, if you could call it that.

But when you look

You raised your head as you heard the familiar chime of the café’s entrance bell. Smiling, you got up to hug Izuku and pushed your computer aside. “Hey Y/N!” He said, smiling as he patted your head. You sat down, pulling you computer to your body. “Let’s get started!”.

When you laugh

When you smile

I’ll bring you back

“And then the guy had the audacity to say he didn’t steal anything when I had watched him!” Izuku finished, his story making you cry laughing. You two had finished apartment hunting, your computer closed off to the side as you enjoyed your friend’s company. A smile stayed on your face as you sipped you drink. What you weren’t aware of, was the gaze of a certain ash-blonde male.

He scoffed, his eyes watching you as you gently leaned your head against your hand. You looked at Izuku the same way you looked at him in high school. What was so great about him anyways? He didn’t even have his own quirk. He was nobody compared to...

He watched as you smiled at Izuku with so much love, so much joy. It hurt.

And now I’m sad

And I’m a mess

He knew it was his fault. He shouldn’t have done what he did. Sleeping around with his sidekick was the last thing he thought he was going to do. He knew he could just as easily go to you to get what he want, yet he didn’t. Was he bored? No, he wasn’t- he just thought he was hot shit. He thought that because he had reached number 2 status and you were content with where you were in life that you failed to keep up with him. He thought you went back on your promise.

But you hadn’t.

And now we high

That’s why I left

He stood up, paying for his food as he walked out. You blinked as you saw someone leaving, before making eye contact with him. Katsuki.

You immediately looked at Izuku, your muscles tensing up. “He’s here.” You muttered. He sighed, a mix of sympathy and annoyance mixed on his face. “I don’t know why he’s following you. You aren’t going to go back to him... are you?” He asked, looking at you. Pausing, you sighed. “It’s complicated.” You muttered, folding your hands. “I don’t want to right now, bu-“

“Then dont.” He said. You looked at him. “What?” “Don’t go back. Actually, I have a better idea.” He said, turning away as his cheeks flushed pink. You tilted your head. “What are you talking about, Izu?” You asked.

He looked at you, a small smile on his face. “What would you say if I suggested going on a date?” He asked. You blinked, eyes going wide. “A-a what?” You asked. He immediately waved his hands, getting flustered as he tried to backtrack. “Y-you don’t have to! It hasn’t been very long and I know you’re still probably recovering- oh my god why did I suggest this-“ he said, shooting off into a ramble as you smiled. Grabbing his hand, he stopped to look at you.

“I’d like that, Izuku.”

Humming, you added the finishing touches to your outfit as you combed out your hair. Your date plans were originally to go to a hero museum, however the hero commission decided to schedule a last-minute dinner party to congratulate Izuku on his ranking. You decided to go as his plus-one, and you were currently getting ready to leave.

“Y/N, are you almost- woah...” he said, question falling short as he stared at you. You laughed, getting up and grabbing his keys. “Yeah, let’s go.” You said, handing them to him. He put them in his pocket before holding your face gently. “You look amazing.” He said, a smile gracing his delicate features as you blushed. “Thanks- um... let’s go.” You said, gently moving his hands off so he wouldn’t see how embarrassed you were. He laughed, pulling his keys out and following you.

Will your tongue still remember the taste of my lips?

You knew he was going to be there. It was only inevitable. What you didn’t know, however, was that he was bringing her. Akemi Futara. You felt your skin crawl as she stared at you, like she had won a prize and was showing it off to the losing player. It made you sick, thinking of how you kissed him when he had gotten home after fucking her, and she knew that.

Sighing, you leaned into Izuku’s side, causing him to glance at you before giving you a sympathetic look. “I know, I know. If you want, I-I can ask for them to lea-“ “I’m fine. I know he’s your friend. She’s just annoying.” you muttered, closing your eyes. The people that kept coming up to interact with you and Izuku were giving you a headache. You could feel Bakugo’s stare on you, causing you to feel uncomfortable. He eyed you like you were still his.

“Izuku, kiss me please.” You said, causing him to turn to you sharply. A blush exploded across his face, and his eyes went wide. “I-I- whAt?” He stuttered, causing you to sigh. “Bakugo won’t take the hint. He’s gonna try to talk to me.” You muttered. “I just need to make him understand that I’ve moved on, so kiss me. You’re a grown man, so it’s not hard.” You teased. He gulped. Leaning down, he gave you a quick peck on the cheek. You huffed. “What the hell-“ “I don’t think we should kiss out of spite. I... I want it to be special, if we do...” he muttered shyly. You paused before smiling at him. “Izu, you’re adorable.” you giggled.

Will your shadow remember the swing of my hips?

Bakugo watched as you had fun, dancing your heart out with your friends. He felt envy as he watched Izuku struggle to groove with you. He watched as you took his hands and tried your best to teach him, slowly helping him understand. To say he was mad was an understatement. No, he was angry- pissed even. You dumped him and now you’re going after the guy he’s known since childhood? How low of a blow could you deal?

Jealousy was eating away at his core. He felt the same jealousy as he watched Izuku get everything he had wanted in life. Why couldn’t he have that? Why did it need to be him? As he grew in ranks, he distanced himself from you to work better, and you were okay with that. But he wanted more. He wanted to climb and climb and go higher and higher, but you had been content right where you were. You promised him you’d keep up with his pace, but as you brought up the thoughts you had of marriage, he realized that you wanted him to settle down with you.

And he didn’t want that.

Will your lover caress you the way that I did?

He realized as Izuku gently held your hands that he was wrong about everything. He should have just settled down. You were all he wanted in someone, and yet somehow, he wanted more. He was so greedy that he failed to see that what he had was the best he could get. He never gave you what you needed, yet he thought that he needed more.

Will you notice my charm if he slips up one bit?

He watched you go over to the bar and get a drink of water, chest heaving from how much dancing you had done. Getting up, he looked over to where Akemi was socializing before going over to you.

You saw him, cringing as you immediately turned your back to him. You didn’t want to deal with this tonight. It was supposed to be a night for you and Izuku, with no problems in the way. You watched as he took a seat next to you at the bar, ordering a drink before turning to you.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re okay

“How are you?” He asked quietly, causing you to scoff. How were you? Fucking great, right now, but a month ago you were a damn wreck. Rolling your eyes, you looked down at your drink. “Im great. I can tell you are too, with that Akemi girl.” You said, matter of fact. He paused before nodding, despite it being far from the truth.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re all safe

“He hasn’t hurt you, has he?” He asked. You turned to him. “If he did, I wouldn’t be here. Frankly, the only person in this room that’s hurt me is you.” You said, before turning away from him. “Please leave me alone, Katsuki. I don’t want to talk to you.” You muttered. He went quiet, his eyes staring into your back without faltering. After a bit, he closed his eyes and got up, moving away from you as he went to go talk to his friends. You sighed before feeling a hand on your shoulder.

“I’m proud of you.” Izuku said softly, gently rubbing circles into your shoulder. You smiled. You were proud of yourself too.

Will he play you those songs just the way that I did?

Izuku fumbled as he grabbed a guitar pick, sitting crossed-legged across from you on your bed. He had picked up learning how to play in his free time, and he wanted to show you what he knew.

Rain hit the windows quietly as he started to play you your favorite song, causing you to smile. He was so thoughtful, and he had shown you as much throughout the month you and him had spent dating.

Your memories with Bakugo were forever burned into your brain, but that was in the past. You had Izuku now. And that’s all you needed.

He started to sing quietly, smiling as you joined in. You watched his calloused hand stroke the guitar with such care. It made your heart flutter, how he was so built yet so gentle.

You heard a knock at your apartment door, causing you to go quiet as you looked at him. “Did you invite Uraraka over?” He asked curiously. You shook your head, watching as he set his guitar aside on the bed carefully. “I’ll get it. He muttered, moving to get up, but you stopped him. “It’s fine, I got it. Just relax.” You said, kissing his cheek before getting up and making your way to the door. Unlocking it, you pulled it open.

“Y/N.” Bakugo said, ruby eyes meeting yours. You blinked. What the hell was he doing here? It was raining, for Christ’s sake!

You frowned. “What is it, Bakugo.” You said, using his name formally. He cringed. It was like you never knew him. “I need to talk to you. Please, let me in.” He said. You had never seen him so desperate.

Will he play you so strong just the way that I did?

You huffed, crossing your arms. “Whatever you need to tell me better be short and sweet.” You said, opening the door as he stepped inside. You stopped him before he sat down on your couch. “You can stand.” You said coldly.

Clearing his throat, he looked you in the eyes.

“I want you back Y/N.”.

Will he treat you like shit just the way that I did?

You felt yourself go numb as he started to apologize in his stereotypical way. “I was an asshole, and I’m sorry.” He said. You could hear your ears ringing as you stared at him. Who the hell did he think he was?

“It took you two months to work past your pride and apologize? Are you kidding me?” You said angrily, causing him to huff. “I never apologize for anything, so this just shows how much I care.” “No, it shows how much of a fucking asshole you are!”

Cause I don’t blame you.

Growling, he balled his hands up as he started to shout back. “Why can’t you ever just listen to me?” He said. You laughed. “You don’t deserve that after you cheated on me and then apologized two months later after I had already moved on!” You shouted. You heard Izuku come down the hallway, seeing Bakugo argue with you. He gave him a look he rarely gave anyone. It was one of anger.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re okay

“Get out.” He said coldly. Bakugo turned to him, anger evident in his eyes. “What the hell did you just say to me, Deku?” He sneered, causing you to glare at him. “I said get out. You’ve overstayed your welcome with my partner.” He responded. You watched as the realization hit Bakugo like a brick. He lost.

You finally knew you were worth more than him.

Cause I don’t need to know, I just wanna make sure you’re all safe.

You watched as he left quietly, shutting the door behind him. Izuku was still tense from the confrontation, and you went over to him. Touching his face gently, you gave him a sweet kiss on the lips. He turned red, immediately relaxing. “What was that for?” He asked. You smiled. “It was for defending me. Thank you for everything, Izuku.” You said softly. He smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist. “It’s my pleasure.” He said, kissing your temple.

You will always have memories of Bakugo.

But now, you had Izuku.

[goodlucktai]

Prompt 18 for natsumes shitty relatives + natsume protection squad, it fits so well

PROMPTS LIST

18. “Do you think they remember you?” “I sure hope not after what I did the last time I was here.” “What did you do?” “You’ll find out.”

x

“Natsume, I can’t help but notice that you don’t seem to want to be here,” Taki says with a commendable amount of tact. 

“Yeah, you look like we’re forcing you to plan your own funeral service,” Nishimura says with significantly less tact. Kitamoto shoulder-checks him, but Natsume only smiles. 

“I don’t, really,” he says. “If it weren’t so important to dad, I probably would have just asked to stay home.”

He’s more honest now, some two-and-half years since they first met him, and but it’s something his friends know better than to take for granted. They had to work for it, after all.

Shigeru is ahead of them, mingling with his relatives. Natsume and his friends are lingering in the entry way. Tanuma puts his hands out to take Nyanko-sensei so Natsume is free to shrug out of his jacket. 

“How come?” Tanuma asks in his quiet, unassuming way. 

“I used to live here,” Natsume says. “Not in this house, but in this neighborhood.” 

Just that is enough to make his friends stand a little straighter, a big red flag. Kitamoto feels his eyes narrow involuntarily at the first stranger who looks in their direction. 

“Do you think they remember you?” Taki asks as they pick their way down the hall. 

“I sure hope not after what I did the last time I was here.” Natsume’s voice is wry with good humor. He’s so changed from the kid who was frightened to say more than “yes” or “no” or “I’m sorry” or “I’m fine.”

“What did you do?” Nishimura asks with great interest.

“You’ll find out.”

Kitamoto is beginning to understand why Touko opted to stay at the hotel. Her well-timed headache seemed a bit too convenient at the time, but he wasn’t about to call his favorite aunt out on something like that. Besides, the speaking look she traded with Shigeru made it pretty clear that she wasn’t trying to be subtle about it, anyway. 

The kitchen is huge and polished to a gleam, and on sheer reflex Kitamoto reaches out to grab Nishimura by the elbow and reel him in against his side. 

“Don’t touch anything,” he advises. One of those crystal glasses looks like it cost more than everything in his mother’s china cabinet back home. “Not even the food. We can just stop at a combini on our way back.”

His friends all nod, conceding to his wisdom. Shigeru turns to find them slinking through the doorway like a herd of prey animals and shakes his head. 

“Get over here,” he says, not unkindly. “Katsuya and Hiromi have been looking forward to seeing you again.”

The promise of a couple of friendly faces is enough incentive to brave the rest of them. Tanuma passes Nyanko-sensei back over to Natsume; a changing of the guard. They barely make it halfway across the room before there’s a sharply drawn breath, and a “You!” that punches through the polite conversation like a rock through rice paper. 

The woman is only slightly older than Kitamoto and his friends, maybe closer to Kiyoshi or Natori’s age. She doesn’t look happy to see them.

Natsume breathes out slowly. There’s a moment where he shuffles self-consciously, about to duck his head and curl his shoulders-- Kitamoto can see it telegraphed in every inch of his body-- but at the last second he only bows neatly and then lifts his head again. 

“Hi, Sara-san. It’s been awhile.”

For a moment, she’s speechless. Most of the party-goers have turned back to their own conversations, but a few are still watching with interest. Shigeru and his cousin Katsuya are frowning openly. 

Sara says, “I can’t believe you came back here. You-- we got rid of you.”

“Wow,” Nishimura says out loud. Kitamoto squeezes his arm in warning, but Nishimura goes right on, “And my brother says I’m rude. You didn’t even greet him.”

“Satchan,” Tanuma hisses behind him. 

“Who is this, Natsume?” Taki asks. Her tone is bright, but Kitamoto’s not buying it. “An old friend of yours?”

“A cousin, I think,” he says. “I used to live with her and her mother not too long after my biological dad died. I think I must have been eight or nine.”

“You vandalized our house,” Sara says. It doesn’t come out angry as much as it does surprised. It seems like this is a confrontation she never thought she’d have to deal with. “You broke all the overhead lights on the first floor. There was broken glass everywhere. We called the police!”

Kitamoto blinks. The room was so quiet that if someone dropped a yen coin, you probably could have heard it down the street. 

“I’m sorry,” he says slowly, conveniently forgetting they weren’t supposed to be picking a fight. “Did you just say you called the police on an eight year old?”

Sara flushes. She glances around for help that isn’t forthcoming. “Well-- “

“How in the hell does a little kid break an overhead light in the first place?” Nishimura jumps in. He’s scowling, because he only has like two settings where Natsume is concerned, and they’re both sitting on a hair-trigger. “He must have been like three feet tall.”

“He’s weird,” Sara says helplessly. She’s slightly quieter now, and looks like she desperately regrets initiating this conversation. “He’s always done weird things. Everyone has stories about him.”

Stories about a frightened little kid trying to compartmentalize the total upheaval of his whole universe, Kitamoto thinks, a sour feeling in his stomach. Maybe he did act out, maybe he did do weird things. He still deserved kindness from you. 

“Hey, Uncle,” Taki says, looking up at Shigeru, “what’s the weirdest story you have about Natsume?”

“Dad, please don’t,” Natsume blurts. 

Shigeru grins, and Katsuya laughs outright. 

“Remind me and I’ll tell you later,” Shigeru says. “Why don’t you get something to eat and then come find me in the sitting room?”

“We can come now,” Nishimura says shamelessly. “We’re not eating here.”

“Convenience store fried chicken!” Taki cheers. “And a shortcake for Aunt Touko, since she had to miss the party!” 

“She’ll be sorry she missed this,” Shigeru mutters, and begins herding them all into the next room. 

Hiromi is waiting in there with drinks, and beams when they file in, greeting Natsume and all of his friends by name. The conversation comes easily, and the rest of the evening passes by pretty painlessly, and if Nyanko-sensei keeps a sharp eye on the door the whole time, Kitamoto isn’t going to mention it to anyone.

The sound of laughter draws a few more people into the room. They come either curiously, or ruefully, and pick out seats on the fringes. Someone apologizes for Sara, and it sounds as though they mean it. It might be wishful thinking, but it seems like these relatives are willing to revise their opinion of that strange little boy none of them bothered to get to know. 

Natsume is tall and healthy now, and as close to confident as he’s capable of, his long hair swept back with a headband he borrowed from Taki that morning. He’s nothing like the broken child he used to be. Everyone can see that. 

“I’m glad they got rid of you,” Nishimura says as they’re leaving, loud enough that a firmly-scolded Sara can almost certainly overhear. “If they can’t appreciate a good thing when they’ve got it, they never deserved you in the first place.”

“Stop trying to pick a fight,” Natsume says, giving him a playful push out the door. His face is warm with affection. “At this rate, they won’t invite us back next time.”

“I think Touko is counting on it,” Shigeru says dryly, and the door closes on all their bright laughter. 

[dannyboyzone]

Writing rules 101 by Kin

Intro;

Everybody has their own writing style, and you absolutely don't have to listen to me. This is only posted for two reasons, one being that I might not have the mental strenght to post request for 2 or 3 days due to personal reasons, the other one being hey, someone might find this useful.

It's not to nag though, it's more for fun and I am open to respectful critism.

•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

1.

The first one that's the most important one is - In my eyes at least - that you should absolutely never write the character doing absolutely nothing.

Start out sentences with someone being in the middle of something, either something big or something small.

Example;

Not that good; Daniel woke up to the sound at his alarm, at 7:30 am and went to brush his teeth.

Alright!; Daniel shifted his gaze from the window back inside his kitchen. It was raining today, he couldn't help but wonder if it was a bad omen, or if his mind is simply trying to mess with him.

He opened the door to reveal his kitchen shelves, putting away the mug he had gotten from Gun that morning.

ex end.

Not only will it give more depth and possibilities for your story, but it will also keep the reader more entertained and in picture with what's happening.

Also, you are less likely to get a writers block.

2.

Please, if possible, do not write in a big text block.

By that, I mean not possible break in between lines at all.

Please try to make a format you are possible with, of what your gut feeling says feels right.

Example;

You could write like this.

I do not follow a possible format, but in my opinion the best format is one or two sentences starters. The next graph being three to five sentences.

It will not only make you more able to focus, and know where you left off but it is also helpful for the readers.

You can, of course add big paragraphs - if they are called that - but! People with certain disabilities, especially reading ones, will be able to pay attention more and not get overwhelmed if you follow the process of 'small text, big text, small text' or one similar to that made by your own. Also, were you aware that people who don't have English as their first language will be able to follow through more like that?!

Well, now you are!

ex end.

3.

" It is not necessary for you to always add who is talking while two people are having a conversation. " said Mira,

" That's right, but that rule only applies if it's obvious who is talking! " Zoe added to the conversation, with a cheerful smile.

Zack leaned back in his chair, holding a hand in front of his mouth as he yawned,

" If you are going to tell them the obvious anyway, just tell them that a sentence which is followed up by a quote should never have a dot but rather a comma. "

" Zack, don't be silly! Everyone knows that! "

" Actually... Some people might not! Let's not be judgemental everyone. " said the brown haired one.

" Pft, that's for beginners tho! "

" Hey!!! Let's also tell them that they can use differences between the people talking instead of their name too! " said his desk mate, as he looked up from the notes on their desk.

Zack leaned his head on Daniel's shoulder, closing his eyes as he made himself comfortable for a nap,

" Yup, especially if there is a pronoun difference. "

Mira turned to Y/n, holding their shoulder,

" Don't feel stressed please! It's alright to make mistakes, and writing is pretty hard anyway! Just follow your own pace! "

4.

Do not add anything that doesn't have a meaning.

Even if it's taking a sip of drink, it should have a meaning.

It's poisoned, dirty, the first step for someone to be healthy, the first drink someone has for survival, holds a significant meaning or It's to provoke someone.

It doesn't matter, as long as it adds something to the story.

If you do not make everything have a meaning that adds depth to the story or the personality of a character you are wasting the time of your reader and could possibly give them false hope.

Though, you don't immediately have to add the meaning of if in the same scene or even same chapter.

5.

Some sentences have multiple meanings depending on which word is pressed down.

Take an example, the sentence

" I never said she stole my money "

has 7 different meanings depending on the word you press down. Just try it out.

So if you might write a sentence with multiple meanings please write the pressed down word in italics.

If you want to say the person didn't steal the money, but someone else did, you would have to write,

" I never said she stole my money "

I hope it's clear with only one example!

6.

Your work is bad because you have read it at least a thousand times, but the people you will publish it to will read it for the first time and you will always have to remember that.

If you want to improve it though, write down everything in your notes, then fully delete it.

You can then open your post tab on your publishing site - like tumblr or something - and start rewriting it.

You will definitely only remember what's necessary in addition to your story.

I personally don't do this, but a lot of people might find it important.

7.

Always do research please, even if things won't always be accurate.

If you do research, less people will be annoyed by the inaccuracy and you will be able to add a lot of things that you couldn't have without them.

Also, you can avoid appropriating cultures and offending different kind of communities that way.

Along side that, please always state if your work will out of character or inaccurate on purpose.

Plus! Checking your spelling errors with a trusted app of yours will never hurt anybody! ♡

8.

If you have a writers block, please either

1. Change the weather; Opens up different kind of possibilities due to clothing, back ground, objects, air and reactions it brings out of others.

2. Add something dramatic; Only do this if it's absolutely necessary, because it could ruin your work. If everything goes right, add something that goes wrong and vice versa. This is only if you want to add angst in your fluff or wise versa.

3. Change the environments and/or the positions the characters are in; It gives a better perspective of the mood and general idea of the topic on hand that you are writing about.

4. Move on to the next scene; You can either leave the scene at that, or write the scene after that which can give you ideas for the one previous to that.

5. Make sure to clean the room you are in; Distractions and environment factors can change the way you feel about writing. Especially if not everything is clean, even if you don't like the mess. Also, drink water.

9.

Never add the end being a dream in longer works.

I don't mean the middle, a twist or a necessity. I mean the absolute end.

It just disappoints people and wastes their time.

10.

If you are writing anything other than romance such as action, horror, thriller ect I would like to say that, romance is not a necessity.

I beg of you, please don't add it if your main focus isn't romance.

Sure, people can have relationships but unnecessary romance rather drives people away than bring in more readers.

If your main focus is romance, please don't immediately make the people fall for each other.

It doesn't necessary have to be enemies or something you don't enjoy, but please remember that no one loves at first sight, and even people with a lot of chemistry can be shy!

Even if you love someone the first day you meet them due to something, it will definitely take a few hours and naivety.

So unless the main point is love at first sight, it's better to build up a relationship bit by bit.

11.

Be diverse with tension levels in scenes!

If a whole work is simply tense, or simply has a normal tone that can be either overwhelming or underwhelming.

For example, if your work is shorter, you can add a tiny moment where someone pouts yet gets cheered up with kisses a bit after.

If it's longer, you can add for example a race scene, which after ending is followed up with a group of friends smiling and having fun at a dinner table. If would not only give more depth to your story, but it could make viewers think and make their own headcanons of your story.

So, in short, please balance your story out. Readers have an easier time to finish a work that's balanced in the course of the same day over works that are over or underwhelming! ♡

12.

Every writer has a word that they might repeat too often. Mine are pronouns, but for others it might be fangs, headband, no, lenght or even cat.

Please try to recognise yours!

If you feel like you are repeating your key word more often than 3 times please rewrite your sentence(s) in a way it's more pleasant.

You will have an easier time writing and your reader won't feel like you are repeating yourself.

Also, you can improve your speech pattern that way. ♡

°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°

Outro;

Whew, that was a lot. Kinda gave me a headache.

Please remember that these are tips and not to put anyone down. I would have just liked to help and make up for the lack of post. - Ouch, parrot much. - I enjoyed writing these, but if anyone got offended I apologise. Hopefully, this won't get ignored since I put a lot of effort in it. 🥲

Thank you for your time! <3

[mistaeq]

Can I get a small drabble with a sick Rohan? Like his s/o has to take care of him but he's really stubborn?

Sick!Kishibe Rohan: Working Fever

TW // none

Thank you for your request♡ This is totally NOT a drabble. Inspiration carried me, and a small fic was born. I hope you enjoy this !! Sorry for the amount of time it took for me to post this.

SUMMARY: Kishibe Rohan is sick, but above all, is stubborn. Will you be able to properly take care of him? Neutral!Reader.

WORD COUNT: 2.4k

You were pretty sure you had seen, from the half covered by the curtains window, his figure rushing out of his studio to run towards the bedroom. Damn it, you knew you shouldn't have trusted him.

You had left Rohan in the bed that morning, when you left to get to your own job. He had a high fever and a bad headache. You had noticed he was sick, because he took more than his usual fourteen seconds to stand up after his alarm clock rang. The mangaka groaned in his pillow, and tried to push up from the mattress, holding up his head with his eyebrows furrowed. He sat on the edge of the bed for at least a minute, and then slowly stood up.

All of this, under your shocked gaze. You had lifted your head up from the pillow, and looked at his disheveled green hair. Usually, you had no time to see it like that, since the moment you turned towards him, he already had a headband on. But now, he was there, clearly not okay, the red headband he had planned to wear, still on his bedside table. "Rohan...? Darling?" As soon as he heard you, he moved his head to slightly look behind himself. "Are you okay...?"

"Yes." he mumbled, stretching his back. "I'm fine. I'll just..." Rohan paused for an instant, to take off the greenish tank top he was wearing in bed. "I'll just go and refresh myself." he finished, throwing the tank top on the bed and slowly moving towards the bathroom. You were pretty sure you had seen a suspicious, red color all over his cheeks, when he turned towards you.

As he disappeared behind the bathroom door, you instantly moved to grab his topwear to check on it. What the hell. It was full winter, yet both Rohan's mattress side and his tank top were drenched in sweat and extremely warm. Needless to say, you started to worry for your boyfriend. This wasn't exactly normal. Plus, you had noticed he had kept on covering himself with blankets always more, that night. And he hated blankets.

You immediately stood up and walking away to the bathroom Knocking at the [Heaven's] door. - i am deeply sorry. - "Rohan?" you heard nothing more than just heavy breathing. No wonder, after some minutes you pushed on that doorknob yourself anyway, as you found your significant other in front of the wash basin, red faced and sweating.

"Oh, you're right, I'm... I'm taking too much time getting ready. Let me finish washing my face and I'll be out of here." he said, clearly understanding you were checking on his health and trying to play it cool. 

"You are not okay at all, what the hell..." you murmured, ignoring his attempt to look like he was fine and pushing his shoulder a little to make him bend down and press your lips to his forehead.

"What the fuck, y/n..." the mangaka almost scolded you, trying to pull away from your grasp. But his muscles were all the way weaker, that morning. You kept him in place and let go of him only after some seconds, grabbing then his wrist and pulling him towards the kitchen. "Oi... what are you doing...?" Rohan complained, stumbling on his own feet as you pulled him with you.

"You're warmer than an oven. This is fever." you stated, pointing towards the armchair as soon as you got to the living room, right in front of the kitchen. "Sit." Rohan was so stubborn, you were aware you would have had to raise your voice if you wanted him to listen to what you were telling him.

"Y/n, I gotta get some manga pages drawn for tomorrow, I really have no time-"

"Sit." you repeated, moving the armchair towards him with your stand. "I'll get a warm cup of tea prepared for you. It helps." your asserting voice convinced him, as he sat and witnessed you sticking a thermometer in his mouth.

"Y/n!" the green haired protested, pouting with the cold medical tool in his mouth. He crossed his arms in front of his chest, like a grumpy baby about to throw a tantrum. He so desperately wanted to go and get to start working on his manga, Pink Dark Boy. What if maybe... just maybe, he could get you to change your mind with a little trick... "Heaven's Door." he whispered, right when you turned around to go and prepare him some tea.

Your boyfriend's stand, in fact, showed up, slowly walking towards you. No wonder, the mangaka would have wanted it to move in a quicker way, but... "What is this sound..." you asked yourself, hearing little feet sounds. You turned around, to get greeted by a weak Heaven's Door, red cheeked and tired looking, coming towards you. What hurt you the most, was that it effectively was Kishibe's soul. What kinda tiredness and burden did he carry inside of him, apart from fever? "Oh, Heaven's Door..." you murmured, being deeply sorry. It didn't even have the strength to attack you as Rohan would have wanted.

"I'm cold..." the mangaka said in a low voice, kinda hoping you wouldn't have heard it, while you were busy observing his stand. But you did hear him. You didn't move from the kitchen stoves, this is why the green haired, stubborn boy got surprised, when he saw your stand rushing towards him with a blanket. "Y/n... come on, no..." he tried to protest, as strong arms covered him and caressed his head. You giggled at his cute, tired voice trying to get your stand away from him, as you picked Heaven's Door up, just like a baby, kissing its warm, red cheek.

"Who's the cutest? Who is it?" differently fron Rohan - if we can afford to say so, since it's his own soul -, the little porcelain colored guy loved being praised and being taken care of. You were aware of it, as it giggled and if possible, blushed even more, not for the fever, but for the compliments. As you waited for the sick mangaka's tea to be ready, you approached his armchair, giggling. "Look at your stand, so cute... how would you feel about having/adopting a baby?"

Kishibe spat out the thermometer, as your stand luckily caught it before it broke on the ground. "A BABY?" he coughed. "DO I LOOK LIKE I HAVE THE TIME AND THE WILL TO HAVE ONE?" he squealed, his voice making it difficult to scream properly, you laughing and letting Heaven's Door down.

"No, Rohan, not at all..." you said, letting him understand you were being rather sarcastic. Your stand sticked the thermometer in your hands. "Let's see how bad your fever is..." your eyes widened, staring at the result. Damn, 39,5 °C. More or less 102 °F. This was a high one. Poor boyfriend of yours... especially considering how bad he cares about fulfilling his work expectations. But you wouldn't have let him even think about working. That you hadn't considered a little insignificant detail, which hit you when you heard your phone ringing.

Oh dear. Sick boyfriend, the thermometer, the tea, the phone... Somehow, you saw Heaven's Door's little hands grab your cell phone and hand it to you. Really, really sweet of it. But... "Rohan, love, please don't make your stand do many tasks. As you're sick, it is sick, too." you whispered, before squeezing the phone between your shoulder and your cheek, while walking back in the kitchen and checking on the tea's state. "Yes?" on the other side of the phone, obviously, your boss.

You had found yourself so many times complaining about how strict your boss was, and you perfectly knew that being absent would have caused him to get very, very angry at you. Worrying and taking care of Rohan, you had forgotten to tell him that you would have been late. For that, your boss was really furious, and told you that if you wouldn't have managed to get there in less than ten minutes, you would have been fired immediately.

On the verge of tears, you quickly shoved the cup of tea in your boyfriend's hands, and ran to the bathroom to wash and get dressed. The mangaka had noticed that your mood had suddenly changed, but you also didn't want him to get worried about you. So, you immediately washed your face to avoid stray tears to come out of your eyes. The green haired artist had never been so sick before, and you kinda knew that it would have been better for you to be by his side. But your boss would have never listened to you or cared about it, anyway.

Also, you knew Rohan enough to know that as soon as you would have put your foot out of the door, he would have rushed to his studio and started to draw, and work, and write for his manga, despite his high fever. And that was exactly the thing you wanted to avoid. In fact, he had moved in your bed, the cup of warm tea in his hands, when you kissed his boiling forehead to say bye, as you were about to head to your office. "I know your manga is important. Everyone's job is important to earn money and relevance. But Rohan, please. Even more important than salary is health. And you really, really lack it now."

He stared at you, sweating but still feeling cold, as he curled up a little more in the blanket. The thought of him faking obedience ran through your head, but you'd rather think this time he'll realize he can't overwork himself while he has a high fever. "I get it, y/n. I won't work, today. Promise." Kishibe Rohan was promising. Maybe you felt your heart relax. Maybe now you knew he would have listened to you. You rushed out of the house with a doubt, anyway.

You couldn't help but notice how quickly he had agreed with you that it was better for him not to work, after he had been insisting he needed to draw for his manga until the previous minute. Suspicious. This made you worry. Hoping he could be so smart to understand he just couldn't even try to work in his condition.

As soon as you got to work, you couldn't avoid receiving a long, annoying, exhausting speech from your boss. It almost felt like a lesson about not being late or not being absent without a proper reason. But you couldn't even hear any of his words, to be completely honest. Your mind was all the way focused on how was Rohan, what could he be doing, and whether he was really resting or had lied to you when he promised. Hours passed slower than a snail, you were eager to get home and check on your man, to see how he was and what he had done while home alone.

For a second, you thought about doing what you were used to do every day: calling him by the phone everytime you came out of your office and were about to head home, just to hear from him before seeing him personally. But this time, you chose not to, because you didn't want him to know that you were about to get home. You wanted to "surprise" him in whatever he was doing. You realized that had been a good idea when you parked in front of your shared house and hopped out of the car.

You were pretty sure you had seen, from the half covered by the curtains window, his figure rushing out of his studio to run towards the bedroom. Damn it, you knew you shouldn't have trusted him. You weren't angry at him. You admired him, for his will to work despite his sickness, but you were disappointed. Disappointed because he had promised. Your trembling hands turned the key in the keyhole, and pushed the doorknob to get into the house. "Rohan?" You immediately called, finding him sitting on the edge of the bed, sneezing into a tissue. "You aren't resting."

"Actually, I just came out of my studio." ...What? Was he being honest to you? Maybe you judged him the wrong way? He continued. "I was checking my latest manga pages." The mangaka slowly took you by the hand and brought you in his studio, under your confused eyes. "Look." he said, pointing to some familiar pages. You eyes lit up.

"The same pages as yesterday..." your eyes grew watery. You had grown touched by it. Rohan had listened to you. "You didn't work... I love you so much... I am so damn sorry for doubting you." you whispered, gently wrapping your arms around his torso and happily jump out of the room to go get some dinner prepared for your sick lover. "I'll prepare your favourite dinner, tonight! I'm proud of you!" you loudly told him, making his heart beat faster, in pride.

The truth is, Rohan would have never wanted to disappoint you. Because he was aware of the fact that working, drawing, and writing while he was sick would have made your trust in his regards slowly disappear and would have made you suffer at the thought of him overworking himself. He huffed, fixing the blanket around his body and slightly smiling, eyeing at the pile of new pages he had drawn that day, perfectly visible on his desk.

"Y/n, you always worry about me so much, I don't even know how to thank you for it." he mumbled, to himself. "What a good thing that this morning, Heaven's Door managed to write on your body that you wouldn't have seen today's work of mine even if it was right in front of your eyes." the mangaka closed his sketchbook, and after a couple of minutes, joined you in the kitchen, asking for your day at work and admiring the smile he made you pop on your face.

[faustonastring]

Imagine this situation: MC, who always has hair tied up and suddenly one day ... boom! It turns out that MC has soooo long hair like "Hewwo babe I can choke you with my own hair uwu". Can I request headcanons with main six reacting to this? XDD Pretty pwease~

Thanks for requesting! I hope you enjoy it!

Request Are Open!!!

Main six reacting to an Mc with really long hair! :)

Asra

He already knows you have long hair, I mean, in he brought you back to life after all, it would be awkward if he didn’t know almost everything about you, and all your deepest darkest secrets

He often wonders why you choose to keep it up all the time, it’s just so pretty...why not show it off? He most definitely wants to see it, wants to run his fingers through it, braid it...

When he finally catches you with your hair down his jaw drops to the floor, he didn’t realize it was that long! He immediately is running his hands through it, braiding it, Faust even manages to get tangled in your hair and asra has to fish her out

He makes you magick shampoo and conditioner to keep your hair extra soft, and silky smooth, and shares with you all his hair tips on how he manages to keep his hair as soft as it is (it’s canon that in a modern au he uses kids shampoo) will spend hours shampooing and conditioning it for you, and practically begs you to keep it that long, and to leave it down more often

Nadia

Look, she has some long ass hair, there is no doubt in my mind that she would be able to tell how long your hair is just by looking at it pulled up. She also has six sisters, she’s learned a thing or two, trust me.

She will drop small hints that you should let your hair down and let her look at it, in it’s full glory. She’ll drop hints by buying you expensive shampoo and conditioner, or asking if she can wash your hair, etc etc

When she finally see’s your hair down, she audibly gasps, then she immediately calls for the servants to start up a bath and starts brushing through all the knots and tangles you have from keeping it up for so long, and when you get in the bath, words can not describe how long it takes her to wash your hair (just let her savor this, her ex-husband was balding)

As I mentioned before, she has six sisters, so she’s picked up a hair style of four from them, and she wants to try them all on you, she even picks out outfits to go with whatever hair style you have that day, (which is a major turn on for her, espically if she’s the one that did your hair) also I’ll be praying for you if you let her sisters see how long your hair is, because god only knows what they’re gonna be doing to it.

Julian

I mean, he knows your hair is long, but it can’t be that long can it? It’s what, shoulder length? What to short? Fine. Hip length at most. There’s no way it can be longer than that.....right?

He often warns you that having your hair up to tight is one of the leading causes for headaches, and by often I mean atleast once a day, he doesn’t mean to nag you he’s just.....worried that’s all. And curious of what your hiding in your hair, (him and Malak conspiracies about it)

When he sees your hair down- holy mother of pearl he did not expect it to be that long. He is also very pleasntly surprised. He tells you stories about his pirate days when he had long hair, (not as long as yours of course) and Portia when she was little and had really long hair, longer then it is now, all while he’s combing through it, apologizing after every knot.

He loves to run his fingers through it, he finds it very calming.he also thinks it’s cute if you were to leave your hair down while going to the market or at sea and your hair blows right in your face, (he buys you a headband to help with that) it’s just soooo. Nice

Portia

Ohhhhhhh she knows how you feel. Her hair is preeety long, so she knows better than any one else the struggle of, 1) pulling it up everyday 2) making it stay up every day, and 3) untangling it everyday

But the thing is.....you’ve seen her with her hair down before.....what are you hiding??? There has to be some reason you’re not letting her see you with your hair down, is it magick related? A secret bald spot maybe? Come on tell her she won’t judge, she just has to know.

When she sees you with your hair down, she immediately does the ‘cat knife face’ (you know exactly what I’m talking about) and tackles you to the ground, and starts to tickle you until you tell her why you were keeping it from her. (And if you’re not ticklish, well that’s not gonna stop her from trying.)

You two share almost every hair product imaginable,(kind of like how you and asra share a tooth brush if he’s you LI) and you share all your hair secrets with each other, in a “pillow fortress” as she calls it, and then immediately try them out afterwards, (depending on your hair type some work better than others)

Muriel

Long hair brings back a lot of....unpleasant memories for him. He’s honestly glad you keep yours up, he’s almost positive that it’s pretty, and he knows it smells good, it’s just....ugh.

His curiosity does get the best of him though, he wants to see what it looks like, just once, even if it hurts a little bit, just let him see, he’s curious. Very curious. Not only see it, he wants to run his hands through it, wash it like you wash his, but he’ll have a hard time directly asking for it.

When he sees your hair down his heart stops. You made something that was once so ugly to him, seem beautiful. How? When you catch him staring he’ll very timidly ask if he can run his fingers through your hair, then ask if he can wash it like you wash his.

It takes you by surprise, but your even more surprised when he starts asking you questions about it, like why you keep it so long, or if you’ve ever though of cutting it. ( sighs with relief if you say no, but if you say yes? Angrily asks you “why?!”) when the two of you are laying in bed, he likes to just burry his face in your hair, it’s comforting for him, it makes him feel safe.

Lucio

Won’t. Stop. Bugging. You. With. Questions. To better phrase this, he won’t stop asking you the same question over and over and over and over and over and over and over and over land over and over and-

He wants to know why you keep your hair up all the time? Is it ugly or something? A bad hair cut maybe? If it’s a bad haircut you let him know he’ll have the best barber in vesuvia come fix you right up! On him! Or maybe it’s a super secret magick related problem oooooo. Don’t worry you can tell him. He won’t tell a soul he promises. Scouts honor. (He was never a scout)

When he finds out it’s just long he’s kind of disappointed. Like that’s it. It doesn’t do anthing cool? All that time he spent thinking about it for it too just be long??? Don’t get me wrong he loves it! But for real? You got to be kidding me-

He also likes to burry his face in your hair. He asks you what your hair routine is, then shares his, but it kills off like half your hair so you do it once to amuse him, and then never again. (No wonder he’s balding) but he adds your whole hair routine on top of his, so it’s kind of counterproductive in a way?

Thanks for reading I appreciate it! :) sorry about it not being my best work, I’m having a rough night, (if you want me to rewrite any of it lmk!)

Next Headcanon: Main six reacting to mc with wings!

Request are open!!!

[mendesficsxbombay]

your boyfriend is...(II)| s.m

part 1 here

I had received requests for a part two of this fic which happens to be the most loved one so far so here you go! I hope you like it!

He sees white. 

There’s white sand, he thinks it’s sand, and curtains billowing over it. He sees a large wooden cabana, steps leading up to it, the steps are white, the pillars are white. He hears the sound of water somewhere. 

Turning around, he sees waves crashing into the sand, can water be white? The sunset is almost as beautiful as the day he saw her the first time, splatters of pink and violet and orange. The sky is the only pop of colour he thought he needed. 

There’s a carpet leading up to the cabana, white, of course, and large vases lined along it, there are white flowers - petunia, daisy, wisteria, large streams of flowers hanging from the ceiling of the cabana. He sees his friends dressed in white suits, his dad in a white tux, too and he smiles thinking of how perfect it all looks. His mother stands with her mother, both wearing white flowers in their hair, it looks beautiful on them. A hand touches his back, and he knows it’s her. 

He turns around to take her in his arms, he could look at her forever. Glowing, flushed and smiling up at him. He leans down to kiss her but she pulls away, “Wake up, baby.”

“Huh?”

“Wake up, Shawn it’s 9 and you have to be in the studio in an hour.”

He sees white again, but this time it’s the comforter wrapped around him, it’s her silk dress shirt and the headband she chose for the day, it’s her laptop case she is currently packing away and the large photo frame behind her, holding a photo of theirs. 

“What?”

“Wow, you did sleep well, huh? It’s Tuesday, babe you need to be at the studio at 10 and you asked me to wake you up before I leave.”

He checks for the rings on her hands, just the set of gold bands she always wore. Huh. She must’ve taken off the ones he gave her. 

“I don’t know what time I’ll be back today so please don’t forget your keys, actually you know what I’ll just,” she links his house keys with his car keys, “there, now you won’t forget it.”

Pleased with herself she walks over to him again, she kisses him lightly on the cheek, mindful of the deep marsala shade of lipstick she is wearing, “I love you, have the best day at work,” she pulls away smiling. 

“Babe, where’s your ring?”

She looks at him in confusion - “What ring?”

“You know, the ring?” 

She looks down at her hands in confusion - what ring? Oh, wait, he’s probably asking about my mom’s ring, she thinks to herself. What a thoughtful boy. 

“Oh, that’s tucked away in our closet, don’t worry. I gotta leave now, bye bubs!”

And she’s gone. It looked like a flash of white, his mind still hazy. Was it because he got high before sleeping last night? That couldn’t be it, right? 

He sighs while moving sluggishly to sit up, rubbing his eyes and willing the sleep to go away. He slept for over 10 hours and still felt exhausted, it worried him to think about what it would be like when he they actually get down to planning the wedding - god forbid that coincides with planning for his tour. How would he do it all? It seemed impossible, he should’ve proposed a long, long time ago, should’ve done it as soon as the last tour got over, no wait he should have proposed in the middle of his tour, and got married as soon as tour got over. Then they would already be married right now and she would wear the ring all the time. He’s just stupid thats all he is, really. 

He pulls himself over the side of the bed, laying his feet into the plush white, faux fur carpet she insisted on getting when they moved in. The carpet was one of the better decisions she had made and he silently thanked her each time he walked over it. We should have carpets like this at the wedding. 

In no time he was carried away with thoughts about the wedding again, the location, the invitations, her outfits, his outfits, the honeymoon, but the dull vibrations of his phone on the nightstand pulled him to reality. It was her. 

“Hi baby”

“Did you shower yet?”

“…No.”

“You are going to be so late, please go shower, please.”

She acted like such a wife already. The wife of his dreamiest dreams. “Yes ma’am,” he grinned into the phone, getting out of bed and heading to their en suite. 

_______________________________ 

He pulls himself up to the door after yet another strenuous day at the studio. He had to FaceTime his label executives in New York and LA, scheduling meetings for the coming week and still having to figure a way to finish the day’s task list. He unlocks the door and steps inside, a dull headache working its way in. Shawn toes his shoes off and lightly kicks them in line with hers to make them look neat and finally walks into their living room. 

She’s cuddled into the blanket they thew over the couch for times when they needed a binge watch, her hair pulled into a loose braid and glasses perched on her nose. She notices him walk in slowly, pulls the blanket off herself, getting covered by him instead. Smiling to herself she pulls the blanket over both of them again, her hands weaving through his curls softly, aware of how many times he must’ve tugged and ran his hands through it during the day. 

“How was it today?” She asks, careful of how soft she spoke. 

He mumbles something along the lines of being tired and getting 3 songs finished and having ideas for a few more. He moves on top of her, turning his head and adjusting himself so he could face outwards, lightly taking in her post shower scent. Vanilla and roses. Roses remind him of the floral arrangement for their wedding again. He figures he should let her decide this bit. 

“What do you think about wisteria and white roses for the wedding?” He mumbles, she only gets the names of the flowers, nothing else. 

“As flowers? I think they’re great! There’s dinner in the kitchen, I can heat it up if you want.”

“I’m thinking of lots and lots of wisteria, what an underrated plant…”

“baby did you smoke up again? I hope you didn’t drive in this condition.”

“No I didn’t, why’d you ask that?” He’s so sleepy he can barely get the words out but she hears him, shushes him because if he gets worked up now he won’t be falling asleep anytime soon. 

“Okay I’m sorry, but do you want food right now though? Or do you want to wake up in the middle of the night again when you’re hungry?”

“Cocoa.”

“What?”

“I want cocoa.”

“It’s kinda hot to be drinking cocoa, bud.”

“Turn up the cooling then, and please make me some cocoa, I love you.”

She had to bite back a laugh. Sleepy Shawn wasn’t too far off from Drunk Shawn except when he was sleepy he liked the quiet, and when he was drunk he absolutely needed to scream everything, all wide eyed and overly gesticulative. She had her fair share of experience with both, and asking for hot chocolate the way her mum makes it was basically code for exhaustion like he hadn’t felt in a while. She slowly picked both of them up from the comforts of the couch and led him into the kitchen. She welcomed the feeling of cold marble under her feet, like she said it was summer and her snacks usually included ice creams and popsicles these days. 

He sat himself by the kitchen island, propping his head on his hands and watching her putter around putting together his favourite drink, her body nearly working on out pilot when she mixed the cocoa powder and brown sugar, he’s convinced she could make it with her eyes closed. 

“baby,” he called out, still just as soft, he didn’t have the energy for anything more than a whisper now. She hummed in response, not paying much mind, because he often called out to her out of habit, not purpose. 

“Listen, please,” he pouted because she hadn’t turned around to see him yet. 

“I’m listening, baby.”

“We should have cocoa at the wedding.”

“What?”

“I said, we should ha-”

“No, I heard you but hot chocolate isn’t exactly a wedding drink, I’ve never had it at a wedding?”

“Who cares about others? It could be our wedding drink.”

She felt a spark of heat starting in her chest and working towards her cheeks. Our wedding? She loved how casually he spoke about their future, like it wasn’t something he had to give too much of a thought to - it’s just a thing that’s meant to happen. She silently crushed some pieces of chocolate onto both their mugs as a topping, they weren’t the biggest fans of cream of any sort in their drinks and thought of how she would never want them to change, and how there’s no one else she’d rather make cocoa for at midnight on a Thursday. 

He was the purest person she had had the pleasure of knowing in her life, barely any malice and a heart full of respect and love for anyone that came across him. It hadn’t been easy, loving him, she’d been burned before and who’s to say he wouldn’t do the same to her? But now that she thought of the years they’d spent together and the moments they created in this very house and multiple places across the world, she wouldn’t mind being burned again if it meant she still got to keep him. Forgiveness didn’t come easy but with him it came like second nature. 

She turned around to place both their mugs on the island letting out a silent laugh at the image of her very tall, very lanky boyfriend passed out on the platform, head supported by both his arms. She wished the album would wrap up soon, the creative process had really taken a toll on him and he looked more and more worn out everyday. As much as it was his job, it was her job to look out for him too.  

Softly running her hand over his hunched back on her way out, she picked up his phone from where they it on the couch. Swiping it open, she pulled up his group chat with the writers and producers he was currently working with, shooting them a text that he wasn’t feeling too well and they should hold off recording for the next 2 days. 

Feeling accomplished, she looked back at where he was now snoring on the counter, she thought of if and when he would choose to slow down his career if they wished to be married. Maybe it was too early for her to be thinking so, hell, they hadn’t even proposed to each other yet. And if and when a wedding successfully goes through, they would still have a whole life ahead of themselves to plan things. To date, he’d gone above and beyond to make sure she was alright with the pace at which he was moving, and where they stood as a couple and just making sure that she was okay, and she knew for sure that he would continue doing the same for as long as they were together, it’s just a part of who he was, especially around her. 

She walked over to him, gently prodding him awake and watching him chug down the hot chocolate like his life depended on it. She smiled the whole time they went back to their room and finished their night routines and snuggled up in bed. If this was what the rest of her life looked like, she wouldn’t even mind running at the same pace as him. 

__________________

He has a Pinterest board dedicated to their wedding. They’re nearing the end of his fourth studio album fast, and each time they take a break he is glued to his phone and Saving and Moodboarding things for the ceremony. Teddy warned him that if he asked her to pick between an arched altar and a slightly more arched altar, she would leak his album. It’s not her fault they all look the same no matter how much he wanted to fight her on it. 

He’s currently swiping through decor options for their afterparty when he sees it. He’s not sure what a dress is doing in the middle of photos of rounded tables and helium balloons but he swears his mouth goes dry thinking of her in that dress. It’s a vision in gold, intricate embroidery on the sleeveless bustier, two tuck lines running down the front and a cinched waist that flairs out into the most beautiful ball gown he’s seen till date. And he’s seen a lot of them, he has a board to show for it. 

He takes a screenshot and sends it to her. 

From Shawn: Hi, I hope you’re having a good day at work so far, I saw this dress and I think it’d be perfect for the afterparty (attachment: 1 image)

Halfway across the city, she was on her break at work, deep in conversation with Tiffany, yes Shawn’s stylist Tiffany, about outfit choices for the GRAMMYs in the coming few days. Shawn wasn’t performing this year, so it wasn’t as stressful of a time as it would’ve otherwise been. She had shortlisted 2 outfits with Tiff earlier, now wondering if she even needed 2. Tiffany said she’d need an hour or so to figure how she could layer her evening gown and then use the same for the afterparty, she hated having to go back and change even if Shawn wanted to.    

She was about to resume work when a notification lit up her phone.  Reading Shawn’s texts, she paused in confusion, wondering why he was sending her dress recommendations when she was already talking to Tiffany. Tapping on the link anyway, she is led to an ethereal gown, the kind that she’s convinced only exist online and not in real life. She may have even let out a blissed out sigh, the aesthetic experience running sparks through her heart and mind, imagining herself in a dress so god sent, but where would she wear it? 

The realisation cuts her supply of serotonin real quick, reminding her that absolutely no occasion she had been invited to thus far was worth an outfit like that. 

To Shawn: Hi baby, I miss your face, only 4 hours till I see you! 

  very pretty dress. where would I wear it?

Meanwhile he’d returned to piecing random chords on his guitar together. Shawn perked up to see her reply. He quickly held his pick between his lips, picking his phone up to text back. 

From Shawn: afterparty??

also 

4 hours 2 go. . see u soon 

* see you at home 

❤️

Why would she wear something so good to a GRAMMY afterparty? Like yes, don’t get her wrong, they’re important and all, but just like Bong Joon-Ho believed the Oscars were very local, she thought the GRAMMYs had limited taste when it came to artists. Yes, the world would be watching, and this would be her first ever appearance with him as his girlfriend but she didn’t want to stress herself over how she looked or acted. The show hadn’t awarded her man’s album with the recognition it deserved, she hadn’t forgotten. And so, she was treating the GRAMMYs like no big deal, just a slightly big deal. 

She wanted the night to be about him. Even if it would be their first time on a red carpet together, she would not be stealing his spotlight in any way, thank you very much. And if that meant rejecting this gorgeous gown that would make her look like a bronzed angel that descended straight from heaven, then so be it. 

She looked around her office, people returning to their desks from all over, lunch time coming to a close and her time to get back to work coming closer, she needed to tell him why the dress was not happening when Tiffany finally texts her back. 

Dress is sorted. Sending you photos once I put it together, found a way to only give you one outfit for the night :) 

The smile growing across her face should be worrying, really. She messages a quick thank you, you’re the best, Tiff!!! before opening up her chat with Shawn. 

Afterparty dress is taken care of bubs, nothing to worry xx

See you at home 😘

______________________________

When Shawn calls her giddy and breathless, she drops all her work immediately. 

The album, baby it’s done! We just cut the final- yeah it’s my girlfriend hold on- baby we just cut the final song I needed and it’s over just - no we’ll all go out in a few days, yeah? I just really need to be home with her tonight, thanks man, yeah so I was saying, it’s done I’m wrapping up and I’m coming home, jaan. I love you.

 Her good credit in her company allowed her to immediately intercom her boss and say there’s a family emergency, nothing too serious but she needed to head home right away. On the way she picks up whatever she can remember she needs for their meal, a bottle of Cliquot, Rosé, of course, a few slices of his favourite cheesecake and a bouquet of fresh flowers - a colourful mixture Carnations and Lillies and she smiles just thinking about a bouquet so similar given to her when he asked her to be his. 

It’s not until she’s back to the house does she realise that he passed up on drinks with his music friends (yes she does still call them that) for an immediate post album celebration and chose to spend the night in with her. God, could he get anymore perfect. Tonight felt like the night, the night, and if she did manage to pull through with the plan she put together in the short 20 minute drive, it would definitely be a night to remember. 

Entering their home she gets to work quickly, setting the flowers up on their dining table and stowing away the champagne and cheesecake in the refrigerator to cool down. She doesn’t know exactly how much time she has till he gets home, and the dish she felt most prepared to make was Pesto Chicken, having the side dishes in mind already, and body working on auto pilot from there on. 

While her meal bakes in the oven she brings out the fine China, determined to make the real thing look and feel as perfect as the image in her mind. Once the table is set up she moves around the couches in the living room for when they will inevitably end up there to watch something, anything, to end their night, or continue their night, if you know what I mean. 

As she’s fluffing out her blanket next to his, the lights running low and candles lit all over the place, he unlocks the door to let himself in. The smell of a slow roast hits him before anything else, his eyes running over the place to see her as soon as they could. 

She hears him come in before she sees him, hears the sound of his keys jingling and the soft pad of him taking his trainers off. She whips around and practically flies across the room into his arms. He’s more prepared, though, immediately swinging her up and spinning her around laughing freely as she squealed incoherence into his neck. Once he hoisted her up and round his waist he finally grabbed her face to kiss her like she deserved. She hummed into his mouth, wrapping herself around him tighter and finally getting a taste of what she missed these last few days. He smelled like cinnamon and tasted like happiness and love and warmth and she couldn’t seem to get enough. 

In a bit he sets her back on her feet but refuses to pull away from her. She’s giggling against his lips about dinner and a celebration and he’s never felt more loved. He does still manage to keep her in place and kiss her a bit longer, though, and she lets him because it’s what he deserves. 

When she asks why he did not go out with the boys tonight he just shrugs. She offers for him to meet them wherever they are after dinner he just says no again. When she asks why, he says the album they just finished was about her and he needed to spend this night with his muse because it was the only thing that felt right. She was too giddy to bother arguing back. 

She’s already set the table, ready to bring out the food when he shyly asks her if they can go change into their pyjamas. When she says yes and is about to run up to their room to change, he further asks if they can sit on their living room floor instead of their dining table. A small voice in her head reminds her of the time they made out on his living room floor the first time she came over and got drunk. Nothing else had happened that night, and he initially refused to even kiss her for fear of taking advantage of their sobriety or the lack thereof but she convinced him that it would be compensation. In retrospect, she’s thankful that they didn’t take things further because that was definitely a night to remember, the memory still makes her blush. 

When he goes to freshen up in their washroom, she’s changing into her fluffiest pair of pyjamas and an old t-shirt of his. Her pyjamas thankfully came with pockets, and she quickly went over to her vanity and stuffed a tiny packet in. She’d had it for nearly two months now, but tonight was it. 

When they go back down and stuff their faces with chicken, the best in all of North America, babe, as he says, she keeps looking over at him. He finally looks relaxed after months, he’d been frustrated trying to write new songs on the road and when he thought he had things figured out, he jumped straight into the studio to bring them to life. Essentially, he hadn’t given himself a break, which had led to a fight between the two of them. She’d been patient and tried to talk things out so as to not resort to a screaming match, but he refused to listen. Probably the Leo in him. 

The most she could convince him to do was be home before 1 AM. His girlfriend imposed a curfew on him, and he darn well follow it if he still wanted to have a girlfriend. 

Seeing him eat his meal while happily chatting about his day, she kept thinking of how perfect her life felt at the minute. When they popped champagne and he insisted they drink straight from the bottle, she thought of the few flaws of his she’d learned over the years and how she could bear to romanticise them if it meant she got to keep him forever. She couldn’t think of anyone else she’d rather be sat with on her living room floor, tipsy off the bubbly and munching on fresh cheesecake, stealing kisses in between. It felt right. 

He looked away from her to check his phone, text his friends back and she sets her phone on the closest console table to record the moment. Crawling back to him, she takes his fork and plate out of his hands and he smirks thinking she’s about to have the first round of the night right there. 

“Starting already, then?” He mumbles as he leans in to kiss up her neck when she scoffs and pushes him away lightly. “chill, horndog, I need to talk to you about something.”

He immediately straightens up, bracing himself for whatever is about to come. She runs her hand through his hair while his eyes cross the length of the room, knowing she sometimes needs a minute to collect her thoughts. When she inhales sharply, he knows she’s ready. 

He turns towards her so she knows she has his full attention, their hands intertwined and hanging between them. She purses her lips, sends a prayer up to God and begins.

“So um, the first time we spoke, I thought you were the dreamiest boy I’d ever seen. Um, I still think you are.” His heart warms at her being nervous, knowing she doesn’t have to be around him and tries to ignore the heat in his face. 

“See, we didn’t really know each other did we? So whatever little image I had of yours in my head was based on small talk and your devastatingly good lo- stop smiling, your below average looks, and how you desperately failed at trying to hit on me, but it it was only a matter of time till we got talking more often when you went away for tour - and I think I really appreciate it sometimes that your tours, like, no matter how long or short they are, they give us a chance to talk, you know?”

He’s not sure where this is going. The confusion is visible on his face but she keeps going. It’ll all be worth it. “Other couples don’t get to have that, Shawn. I know they’re always with each other and I know we’d both appreciate more time together when we’re physically together but being away from you makes me… introspect. It makes me want to learn things about you, it makes me want to know you because there’s never enough things to know about you, and the more I know, the more I love.” She moves closer now, cupping his cheeks and he leans into her hands, still confused as ever but letting her take what she needs from him. 

“After you came back from your first full length tour after we got together, I wrote in my journal that I would never take my time with you for granted.” His heart fluttered a little, writing in her journal meant making promises to herself, and she never went back on them. He’d never read any of her journals, he was nosy, yes, but not invasive. He wouldn’t break her trust like that. He also knew she wrote about him, he’d seen her peaking at him while writing, thinking he wouldn’t notice, but he did, he always did. 

“I’d never really had a serious relationship with anyone before you, you knew that. I mean, I just didn’t think I was special enough to hold someone down, or have my person, it just wasn’t plausible, right? And you know how Khalid said I never had someone to call my own, that was me pretty much my whole life, but then you swooped in with your guitar and you wanted to take me to all your favourite places and make me meet your friends and then you wanted to meet mine and by our third month together you started writing songs about me and I couldn’t believe that someone would want to write a song about me you know? Cause like I’m just me? But you did, a-”

“That was a lie.”

“What?”

“I didn’t write about you for the first time in our third month. I only told you that because I didn’t want to come off too strong, we were still pretty new to each other. But the first song I ever wrote about you was after our first date. Well, I started writing it after our first date but it was completed after you so painfully rejected me after the second one. I moped for a week straight, babe, you were pretty heartless.”

She doesn’t speak for a second, she doesn’t know what to say, really. Her speech that she prepared for this occasion was pretty self derogatory, she realised. And now he was throwing her off kilter, making her forget the script in mind.  “You wrote a song about me after the first time you took me out?” 

“Yeah,” he said resting his hand by her neck now and running his thumb over her cheek. His gaze grew softer, “And now I’ve written two whole albums about you. But they don’t feel enough. I don’t think they ever will be, honestly. I could write a thousand songs about you and they wouldn’t do you justice. I love you more than anything, I think I always have.”

And all of a sudden, she’s forgotten everything she wanted to say. She always did think she got lucky with him, she had a loving, caring boyfriend who respected her wishes no matter what and worked hard come hell or high water to make himself better at his art. She thought about how she was a part of his art, she thought about the one time he said that each time she proved to be his muse, the result was somewhat a tribute to their love. How fortunate could they be to have each other? And now, looking at him in the softest sleep shirt he had, a little loopy because of the champagne after a long day of working hard, there’s so much she wants to say. But the words don’t make themselves known, instead she blurts out - “Marry me.”

He smiles lightly, “Okay.”

“No for real, hold on,” she holds his shoulder to lean up, then steadies herself on one knee, pulling out the Carbon Fibre ring that had her heart since the first time she saw it, a solid black with two thin gold lines weaving around it. Her hand is held up between the two of them so he can see the ring, “Shawn Mendes, will you make me the happiest girl in the world, and marry me?”

Holy shit. He hasn’t proposed. 

It finally pieces together in his head. In this midst of finishing the album and planning the next step for his music, he’d forgotten to propose to her. But he swears he remembers doing it - or was it all in his head? He rushes to stand up mumbling no no no to himself and her eyes follow follow him around, her hand lowering as the fear of the worst takes over. No?

At once his head looks upwards, where their room is, and he runs off. She can’t quite grasp what just happened. She flips the ring over in her hand, finding the tiny engraving of their initials on the inside of the 22K band, thinking of the day she was so happy to have found it, and how it was probably for nothing now. Why would he say no?

They’d talked about marriage so openly, he was the one who kept bringing it up - so why run away now? Was he not ready? Or had he changed his mind? Was it too soon? Or too late? Did he not want marriage anymore? She felt tears sting her eyes - did he not want her anymore? That wasn’t possible was it? He literally just told her he loved her - or did he not actually mean it? Why would he say it if he didn’t mean it? Did this mean they were over now?

She looked over to where she had propped up her phone earlier, the video still recording. She had plans of adding this clip into her next video, after their trip to the Portugal next month. She had wanted to record her proposal instead she may have just recorded their breakup, now that would get her some views, huh?

Upstairs, Shawn let out an aha! finally finding the small velvet box that he had stored away carefully - so carefully that he needed to empty out half his drawer to find it again. He bounded down the stairs, screaming BABY THIS WAS WHAT I WAS FORGETTING only to find her kneeling on the floor right where he left her. She looked small and sad, stray tears finding their way down her cheeks. 

“Baby w-what’s wrong?”

She didn’t notice the velvet box in his hand till he kneeled down in front of her. “I thought you said no… I thought you didn’t want this - what’s that, Shawn?”

He claps a hand over his forehead, frustrated with himself for upsetting her so much and so quick. “I just happen to be stupid, babe, I’m sorry, I forgot to propose.” Then he’s flipping open the box, throwing it back to let it land somewhere on the carpet after having taken the diamond ring out. It’s the exact width she likes, the exact cut she likes, and it is so beautiful. 

“How do you forget-”

“But! I am doing it now! I may be stupid but you’re the one who chose to stick by me so that makes two of us! Please marry me?”

“I asked you first.”

“God, yes that’s all I ever wanted, yes yes - a thousand times, love,” he rushes to kiss her, and she smiles into it again, pulling away and slipping the ring onto his finger. 

He’s the one who’s teary eyed now, a wet smile growing bigger and bigger. “It’s so beautiful, doll, I love you.”  She kisses him again, once, twice, she would’ve done more but he pulls away again. “Okay, your turn now - what’s the answer?”

“Hmm… I don’t know I mean you did forget to propose after all…” he stares at her for a second before saying humming and attacking her with tickles. She squeals out falling to the floor in a fit of giggles, trying and failing to fight him off. “Not gonna stop till you say yes, doll.”

He’s laughing, too, clearly enjoying her misery. He hears her let out a breathy little yes while he’s still running his fingers up her sides. “What’s that? Did you hear something? Because I didn’t!”

“Yes, sheesh YES I WILL MARRY YOU, SHAWN! Please stop!” He pulls her up, quickly slipping on the ring and gathering her in his arms, burying his face into her neck, finally crying out freely. Everything felt complete, finally, he couldn’t wait to start this new stage of his life with her. He was going to be a married man soon, nobody pinch him. 

“Wait,” she speaks, pushing him away a bit so she can see his face, “Is this why you kept talking about the wedding? You were talking about our wedding this whole time?”

“Yes, I know I get it I’m forgetful! I guess, I was so caught up in what was happening and what I wanted that I mixed the two.” He sighs, a little hazy after the sharp turn of events in the night. “Wow, I wish we had recorded this, I can’t believe you thought I said no to you, baby who do you think I am?”

“Already one step ahead of you - say hi to the camera!” She grins, pointing to her phone next to them. He lets out an of course you would and she only laughs in response and he decides that he needs to hear that for the rest of the life if possible. He looks into the camera and sees an image of them both looking like a hot mess, kneeling in the middle of their living room, faces flushed and eyes bright because of the cry fest that just took place. 

“Hi guys, we’re engaged!” And she lets out a yelp showing off her hand to the screen. “Shawn Mendes isn’t my boyfriend anymore, he’s my fiancé! There should be a new filter!”

“Wait, does this mean we get cocoa at our wedding now?”

__________________

taglist: @shawnwyr​ @mendesstories​ @lanallaa​ @sleepybesson​ @rulerofnocountry​ @luvluvxx​ @wholesomemendes

dm to be added or removed ♥️

[ncityislove]

The Jury is Out Ch. 3

➳Pairing: Renjun x Reader x Jeno (ft a few other Dreamies)

➳Genre: Angsty fluff but mostly angst lol basically enemies to lovers

➳Word Count:4.6k

Hiiii guys! It’s been over a year since I started this series and this has taught me so many things. Mainly, how much I can not be trusted to start and finish a series lol. The last two chapters will be out soon. I really mean it this time.

Previous Chapter  Next Chapter

There's an awful pounding in your head from the looming headache you didn't see going away anytime soon. Your over-bearing thoughts being added into the mix is plain unbearable as you wait for your first class to start and your sour mood only worsens when you recall the unfolding of yesterday's events. The strong sense of shame was overwhelming like a dark cloud hanging over your head. How did you get here? Your biggest mistake was letting your guard down to the likes of Renjun. That's where it all went wrong. You try telling yourself you don't need him as a friend. You have Jeno. But you can't silence the desire in your heart to have something more than a partnership. You'd gotten a taste of what's it like to be under the warm rays of his kindness after being on the receiving end of the endless blizzard of the cold reign he had over you and the entire school. That wasn't something you could just forget.

When Renjun arrives, he takes his place right next to you, unpacking his items as if it were the most normal thing in the world. You don't know why he isn't sitting in his usual seat when you didn't have a lab today. You frown but silently remove your bag from the chair next you, nonetheless.

He sits down eagerly, glancing at you a moment longer than socially acceptable. "I like your hair."

Your hands immediately grip the strands.  After the party, you decided to forgoes the ponytail and headband combo that you'd been sporting for so long. "Oh, um, thanks."

Was that a compliment just now?

"Where were you yesterday, by the way?"

"I was sick, so I missed first period," he states, not even missing a beat.

Unbelievable. He's lying straight to your face. You frown distastefully.

"That's not what Chenle had to say."

"Hm? Chenle? He's always pulling pranks—I wouldn't buy anything that comes out of his mouth," he laughs.

You glare at him for a moment. "You didn't get my texts messages?"

He smiles sheepishly. "Oh...sorry about that. I was...um...busy?"

You turn the other way to discretely roll  your eyes. "Are you okay at least?"

"Yeah, never better!"

You shake your head, not wanting to seem like you actually cared despite the fact that deep down you knew you did. It's crazy that all it took was one little afternoon alone together and suddenly Renjun matters to you. All those years of being at each other's throats out the window. Just like that. It was different now. You were more mindful of each other's feelings and it's even gotten to the point where you're receiving compliments. It was a change that you still hadn't adjusted to but maybe it wasn't as lousy as you made it seem. The horrible excuses and lies weren't something you were fond of but it's not like you were friends so you kept that to yourself. You just wished he'd tell you the truth or even hearing that he didn't want to talk about it would've been fine. You didn't see why he had to lie...

You had to remind yourself that you shouldn't be so concerned with Renjun. It was weirding you out that you were thinking about him so much lately. As much as you hated to admit it, you might've maybe felt something for him in that teeny split second after you made up on the field. You never really noticed how funny he was bc you were always the butt of the joke but it turns out he was pretty hilarious. And his voice was so sweet and calming you could probably listen to it forever. But whatever it was—that moment your heart skipped a beat— was gone. It was crazy to even think—there was no way you'd ever say that out loud. Clearly, Renjun would never reciprocate.

If only Haven could see you now.

Renjun turns his body toward you, giving you his full attention. "Are we meeting at the track after school?"

"I have volleyball practice but we can meet after, if you want."

"Yeah, cool," he says, looking pleased.

"Are you sure you're okay though?"

The question had been on your mind since yesterday. Maybe something happened with his dad and he didn't want to say anything. According to Jeno, he didn't talk about that stuff much but you still wanted to make sure he was okay.

"Huh?" he looks at you strange. "Yeah, I'm good."

"Are you sure? I mean, you can tell me if you're not." You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.

He snickers, his face glowing with a big smile. "Are you worried about me?"

You scowl to hide your panic. What was happening  to you? "As if," you scoff.

"Aww, you care about me! Who knew the coldest person in the world had a heart?" he pinches your cheek.

You violently slap his hand away and he jerks back.

"Don't!" you point a finger in his face. "touch me. Never again. Got it?"

"Alright," Renjun chuckles lightly. "My bad. Whatever you say."

When class starts, the teacher pulls up her usual PowerPoint and you begin messily jotting down the first slide. She seems to be in a rush as she breezes over every slide, making it difficult to write down everything in time.

Renjun nudges your arm. You look to see him offering you a piece of gum. You reject it, mouthing a  'no thanks' with a polite smile and scramble to write down the rest of the slide. He purses his lips, taking a piece for himself, leisurely writing his notes.

A few minutes later, he nudges your arm again. "You got any led?"

Your nostrils flare as you let out a sigh, pulling out your pencil pouch for him to find the kind of led he needs. You pick your pencil back up to continue your notes.

"Thanks," he whispers. "Hey, did you get that last slide?"

"Oh my god, no, Renjun!" you whisper-shout at him. "How could I have gotten the last slide when you keep distracting me??"

He starts to giggle and it you get even more heated that he found pleasure in this. You're just to about to curse him out in every language known to man when Mrs. Brookes stops her lesson.

"What's going on back there?" she peers down her bi-focals to stare you down. "__, would you like to tell me what the main parts of the brain are?"

"Umm," you hesitate, your eyes scanning over the board. It must I've been on the last slide--which you didn't get the chance to copy thanks to Renjun.

Mrs. Brooks looks at you impatiently and the class turns to look at you as well when you take too long to answer.

"Cerebellum, frontal lobe, parietal lobe, cerebrum, and the thalamus," Renjun answers, ultimately saving your ass.

"Very good! Thank you, Renjun. Now, as I was saying..." Mrs. Brookes turns back to the whiteboard and continues rambling on about the brain.

"I thought you didn't get the last slide?" you whisper.

"Just because I didn't write it down doesn't mean I wasn't paying attention."

You stare at the side of his face in disbelief and you can tell by the way his cheeks were lifted he was smiling.

Renjun sits with you again in third period. You scoot your stuff over, once again saying nothing. This was getting a little too odd. If you weren't friends why did he keep sitting next to you? You weren't friends, were you? You decide not to ask. Sadie seemed like the right person to confide this type of stuff into.     Your desks were too close together which made Renjun's knee touch yours. You wouldn't have noticed any other time but this time in particular it was hard to not to.

"You should sit with me at lunch from now on."

Definitely getting mixed signals here.

"Why?"

"We're partners. It only makes sense, you know?"

"But we've been partners for years," you interject.

He opens his mouth then closes it. "Well, yeah that's true...but you still should. I won't force you to but I'll be really upset if you don't."

"Upset?" you repeat with a tilt of your head. In what universe would he get upset over anything you did that didn't have to do with you scoring higher than him on an assignment? You didn't understand why he was acting so weird today.

"Yeah and if I get upset, I won't be able to focus on the booth." his tone is sad and it tugs at your heart for some reason.

"Well...if that's the case, I'll do it. For the sake of the booth."

He smiles triumphantly. "Right. For the booth."

The kid who usually sits next to you walks over and stands there awkwardly before he finds an empty seat somewhere else. You try not to laugh at how uncomfortable Renjun looks.     Class goes by smoothly this time, Renjun only bugging you every once in a while to compare answers on your worksheet. When the bell rings, you and Renjun walk to lunch together. He's talking to you about the Pythagorean theorem but you keep getting distracted by the odd looks people keep giving you in the hall.     You weren't used to getting this much attention. You're existence was pretty much irrelevant unless something happened with your rivalry and it was usually only gossip worthy if he had done something incredibly embarrassing to you. Renjun, being the top of the class and being friends with almost all the members in the the school sports teams on the other hand, was very popular. You couldn't begin to imagine the confusion you two were causing just by walking to into the cafeteria together. He was always the center of attention and much like Sadie, he was born likeable. It was easy for him to make friends and juggle the delicate balance of having a social life and performing well academically. You were a nobody compared to him and up until now you were fine with that. It was easier to focus on your studies without the distractions from others and what drama friendships with others would bring but you had to admit having someone to walk to lunch with was strangely nice.     Jisung is the first person to see you coming, a look of recognition crossing his face. Chenle was next; he smiles sending you a friendly wave. You say hello, sitting your tray down next to Jeno and Renjun sits on the other side of you.

"Hey, beautiful, what're you doing here?" Jeno asks.

You flush at the pet name. "I think as Renjun's partner, we should take advantage of the free time we have to work together."

"Oh god, you two are so much alike," Haechan groans.

"I think it's cute," Chenle beams.

Jaemin fake gags and everyone bursts into laughter except for you who didn't find it all that funny.

The laughter dies down.

"Will you be spending all of your free time with Renjun?" Jeno asks.

"Of course not," you wrinkle your nose at the silly question.

"In that case, would you like to go out on a date? How's tonight?"

You drop your carton of milk on the table that thankfully you hadn't opened it yet. You must've misheard him. You know the words he said to you and yet, you couldn't believe they were meant for you. Your stammer for words. Any words. But they don't come and the whole table is staring at you in anticipation.

"I...can't. I have practice after school and then I have to work on the booth. I'm sorry."

The boys "ooh" in unison like a bunch of fifth graders.

"It's not like that!" you scramble to fix your words. "We can go another day?"

Jeno's eyes disappear as he gives you the most heartwarming smile. You can't help but smile back at him.

Chenle clears his throat. "What do you think about that, Renjun?"

Renjun's picking at the edge of his foam tray when he shrugs. "I couldn't care less."

Chenle gives him a glare as if he's trying to convey some message to him but Renjun doesn't meet his eyes so he elbows the crap out of him.

"Argh!" he rubs his arm. "Fine. I admit I don't approve."

The table gets quiet. You and Jeno share the same expression of surprise.

Jeno juts out his chin. "Why not? And don't say she's too good for me."

"Renjun clenches his fists. "It'll distract __ from school and I don't think that's what she wants."

Jeno snorts. "It's just one date. I think she'll be fine. And when we do become a couple—which we will, I'll make sure of that—I won't distract from her school work."

"Yeah, but I don't think—"

"Plus, you used to have a girlfriend—what's the difference?"

The atmosphere tenses at the mention of Haven and Jeno looks sorrowful as the boys send him ferocious looks.

"Shit...I'm sorry. I didn't mean to--"

"When does practice end?" Renjun changes the subject.

You're still confused as to what's going on. "Who? Me?"

"Yes, you, dummy," he grins.

You ignore the fact that he just called you a dummy. "It ends at four but I can leave early."

"Mind if I come and watch?" Jeno asks.

"Sure!" you get excited at the thought of Jeno watching you play.

"No fair! I wanna come too!" Jisung exclaims.

Jaemin reaches out to pat him on the shoulder. "Absolutely not. You're not going anywhere near those girls, you pervert."

You crack up at the two, unaware of the concerned look Chenle's giving Renjun as he silently scribbles dark circles in his notebook.

-

You arrive to the school gym, hauling the equipment the coach had you fetch. The girls are all huddled in a circle, gossiping most likely. You set up the net and clear the court of the smelly matts that were left behind from a previous class. You could ask for help but you were sure no one wanted to.

You break up their little party after you get another text of instructions from the coach.

"Ladies, coach says she's not coming until the end of practice so we're starting without her. Let's start stretching, okay?"

The girls spread out and begin to warm up and you join them. Everyone's following instructions except for Haven, who's still standing in the same spot.

"Haven," you say in a warning tone.

"Why can't we just hang out until coach gets here? She doesn't have to know."

Her smile is innocent but you know there's nothing innocent about the girl.

Everyone agrees, the room filling with murmurs.

You already sense anger rising in your body. It seems like every time Haven opened her mouth, it was always to go against you. Maybe her and Renjun were the perfect couple after all.

"Guys, c'mon. If we slack off, we'll throw the next game and lose our winning streak."

"No way, skipping one day of practice won't cost us some measly game. You're being a little dramatic, don't 'ya think?"

"Some measly game?" you repeat.

"You don't even care about winning. Haven, you don't care about this team at all—why should any of us listen to you? I am captain of this team, in case you've forgotten."

"Oh god here we go again," she sighs. "That's just a title. That doesn't make you the boss of me."

"Oh, yes it does. I can get your ass kicked off the team with one word. Coach trusts me, all I have to do is say it. Should I have a chat with her when gets here?"

Haven gets as red as a tomato, her lips poking out in an ugly pout. You almost laugh at how childish she is. It was a mystery how people adore her so much when she's got such an ugly attitude.

"Since you all agree with Haven, let's do ten laps. C'mon."

Everyone gives Haven dirty looks as they get up and start their laps.

"Let's go girls, I'd like to get this over with so we can start practice." you clap your hands to speed them up. "And Haven? You get an extra ten laps."

Haven flips you off before she runs off but you don't really care. At least, she was listening to you for once. You hear a door slam upstairs and Jeno struts in, taking a seat at the back of the bleachers. He's smiling as he waves to you, giving you a thumbs up. You can't help but match his smile as you wave back.

When everyone's finished their laps and done their stretches, you split them into two teams. You're opposing Haven's team and boy, do they suck. They're losing embarrassingly bad and you're not even the one who's hitting the ball. One of your best players, Sana, was dragging the other team through the mud. Mina and Momo always made sure the ball got passed to her and when she swung her fists, the ball connected with the ground every time. Haven hated lots of things but you knew most of all, she hated to lose. This was the only reason you haven't kicked her off yet. She wasn't the best player—not even close—but she did like to win. You don't know what made her join the team in the first place but she did and she always tried to win when it really came down to it.

You switch positions on both sides, you serving the ball this time. You throw the ball up high, spreading your fingers apart as you raise your hand and slam your palm against it so hard, there's a loud thud that echoes through the gym. The other team throws themselves to save the ball but their efforts are in vain. The ball is too fast for them. Applause comes from the top right corner of the room and everyone turns to look at Jeno. You pretend you don't notice him, calling the ball back but your flushed face exposes you anyway.

Jeno whoops and cheers every time you scored a point, and let's be real, with the skills you have, that means it happens a lot. You never had someone who wasn't your parents or your coach cheer you on like this and it was something you found you really enjoy. You could get used to this. For a moment you let yourself imagine him attending your future games. Your stomach fills with butterflies and you could almost hear him calling your name when you dive to save the ball.

"Why's Jeno here?" Haven whispers to to one of her friends. "Since when was __ close to Jeno?"

You smirk, waving Jeno over after letting everyone take a short break. The two of you laugh and talk for a bit, ignoring the cold stare Haven's giving you in the distance. She was in a bitchy mood today and you weren't going to let that ruin your time with Jeno. Her witchy attitude has peaked since the first time Renjun invited you to his table. Maybe she was jealous. She probably was still hurting from the break up you assumed but that had nothing to do with you.

-

Jeno walks you to the track field where you find Renjun, who's already gotten a head start. His jacket is thrown over his bookbag and you take notice for the first time how toned his arms are with his sleeves rolled up. He looks up when hears your footsteps, the smile on his face slowly fading when he notices Jeno next to you.

"Oh great. What are you doing here?"

You laugh at his displeased expression. "He's just leaving, calm down."

"Actually," he interjects. "since I'm here, why don't I stay and help out?" Jeno proposes.

"Oh!" you let out an excited squeal you didn't know you were capable of. "That's great idea! Yes!"

"Absolutely not!" Renjun rolls his eyes. "Go home, Jeno. You'll just get in the way."

Jeno juts his bottom lip out and you have to keep yourself from swooning at how adorable he looks.

"Renjunie!" he whines. "I promise not to get in the way. Let me help?"

You give him pleading eyes behind Jeno's back. Renjun looks at you and grunts, muttering something inaudible as he starting hammering away at a slab of wood a little too hard.

"Yes!" Jeno takes off his jacket and gets to work.

"This is a one-time thing," Renjun declares, his back turned to the both of you.

"Right, right, got it," Jeno quickly agrees. "Let me help you with that," he runs over to carry the bucket of paint you were holding.

You watch him lug the heavy object to the table. "Oh, thanks, but I had it."

Renjun rolls his eyes again.

You find him repeatedly trying to get Jeno to go home as you work. Each and every time Jeno would laugh it off, calling him grumpy. You could tell his mood was off but you didn't want to bother him by asking why. He never told you those kinds of things anyway so why go through the trouble of asking? He never laughs when Jeno makes one of his famous jokes and he doesn't look at you when you speak to him. You wish he wouldn't be such a fun killer but he was almost always like this—even at parties, you've come to find out.

When you start to lose daylight, you decide to call it quits for the day.

"I think we can wrap up for now," you beam. "We're nearly finished thanks to Jeno."

Renjun's bag is already slung over his shoulder by the time you finish your sentence. "See ya."

"Yeah...I'll see you," you trail off as he sprints down the field.

"What's his problem?" Jeno asks aloud.

You shrug just as your phone starts to jingle that annoying ringtone you set it to over a year ago. You dig it out of your back pocket and read the caller ID. It's Sadie.

"Hello?'

"Hey! Listen, I'm so, so, sorry, I totally spaced about picking you up after school. I'm out with Jodie right now."

You can't help the displeased noise that comes from you at the sound of Jodie's name. "That's cool, I guess. I can just walk like I usually do."

"Are you sure? We can come and get you in about twenty minutes."

"We?  Yeah, no thanks. I promise, I'll be fine."

"I promised mom and dad I'd pick you--hold on. Jodie, I'm on the phone...what?"

There's whispering then a short silence on the other line and you give Jeno an awkward smile.

"Um, okay, be safe walking. Sorry again! Bye!"

Click.

"So, you're walking home today."

"Yep. My sister conveniently forgot about my existence, so yeah, I'm walking."

Jeno's eyes light up. "Do you live close by? I can walk you home."

Your chest fills with warmth at the gesture. Lee Jeno. You had Lee Jeno offering to take you home. Renjun's bad attitude had left a nasty taste in your mouth but hanging out with Jeno sweetened your day just like that.

Renjun had a way of hurting you in ways no one else could. You didn't know why what he thought of you was so important to you, or why everything he had to say held such a huge weight. He wasn't exactly someone you were very fond of so who cares what he had to say? But Jeno. Jeno always had kind and encouraging words. He was the safe band-aid you needed after being cut by Renjun's blunt words. His razor sharp tongue and eyes for daggers always stung but Jeno protected you. He defended you.

So you say yes to his offer and you make the bold move of linking your elbows which Jeno reacts with a subtle pink tint in his cheeks. Your pace is slow to lengthen the journey, allowing you a chance to get to know each other a bit more.

As time progresses, you realize you had liked Jeno more than you initially thought you did. School had always kept you from exploring your feelings for him. Now, it was clear as ever how you felt about him. You'd turn into a bashful mess at every single flirty comment he'd make, which would only fuel him to flirt harder. He made good company and you wished you hadn't have waited so long to speak to Jeno. You couldn't remember the last time you were this engaged in a conversation with someone--disregarding the one time with Renjun because he's a jerk.

If this is what it's like to have a friend, you had been missing out all these years. He made you feel warm inside like those cheesy rom-coms Sadie loved so much.

His arm was tucked snugly into yours, your steps matching in pace as you neared the street you lived on. You could smell the pleasant fragrance Jeno wore from the close proximity and it brought you back to the night you were drunkenly dancing together. You still couldn't believe you drank alcohol but then again, who lives by a code of conduct in high school? Who was going to punish you for acting your age for once? On second thought your parents would probably ground you for life but that's not the point. The point is you're starting to learn what fun is. If you can't be the best then what's stopping you from enjoying life while you're still young? Looking at Jeno in the stark red haze the sky is dawning on him made you want to do just that. He made you want to live a normal life.

You playfully bump each other, cracking jokes until you reach the driveway of your residence with hesitance. You weren't ready to depart just yet.

"Well," you remove your arm from his. "This is me."

"Aww," he sigh a little. "Well it was nice walking with you."

"Yeah, you too. I'd invite you inside but no one's home and my parents would crucify me if I let you in."

You hadn't realized it but in the few seconds you had looked away, Jeno had gotten closer. Really close. You feel a rapid heat spread all over and you struggle to keep a normal expression.

Jeno smiles before grabbing your elbow to yank you even nearer, his eyes studying yours as he speaks his next words to you carefully.

"Do you wanna kiss me?"

Your mouth goes dry and all you could do is nod, numbly.

He cracks another smile and you were instantly mesmerized by the way his lips curls over his teeth and the thought of how his lips would feel on yours. Your heart stills for a moment. You shut your eyes with baited breath as his lips gets closer to yours.

Slowly, very slowly he kisses you. It was an odd but welcoming feeling, kissing a boy. But you liked it. And you liked Jeno.

Jeno removes himself from you after a few amazing seconds. You're still incredibly close to him and you can tell he's tempted to kiss you again but he holds himself back.

"Text me?"

You nod, maybe a little too eagerly but you didn't care. The hot temperature of his lips left a lingering impression on you and you had a feeling you won't ever be able to rid yourself of the memory.

He holds up a hand before he jogs off down the pale path of the sidewalk, unintentionally leaving you with a mass of confused and excited thought and a small voice in the back of your brain that wouldn't shut up about Renjun and his recent odd behavior.

[jacksgreysays]

DOS, Shikano Nara & Nara Twins, time travel

it could have gone like this:

Shikano comes home after a somehow simultaneously mind-numbing yet also frustrating day of making sure Hiruzen and Danzo don't drive Konoha into war, bankruptcy, or other disaster only to find that his oldest son has somehow multiplied.

He sighs. He looks to the heavens. He resists the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose, to drive away the stress headache that had already been building throughout the day.

He is, of course, proud that Shikaku is clever and innovative--such a thing will prove useful when he becomes clan head--but the boy is attracted to the most dangerous of ideas and more often than not Shikano has had to get Kasuga to fish him out of the black.

"... son, I know we're the clan of shadows, but I've already told you that the kage bunshin is beyond our purview." Shikano is Chief Tactician, Jounin Commander. He knows all the horror stories of shinobi trying jutsu beyond their means and burning from the inside out, guttering their Will of Fire far too soon.

It's not a perfect kage bunshin, missing an arm, but it looks alarming solid and alive.

One of them, the real one, turns to the other and smirks. The other, the clone, looks away and sighs.

"We don't look that similar," says the clone, bewilderingly enough.

Shikaku redirects his pleased smirk to Shikano. "This isn't a kage bunshin, Father," he says, even more bewilderingly.

A third teenager, thankfully not a clone of Shikano's oldest son, enters the room while consulting a sheaf of papers. She's not someone Shikano recognizes which is only alarming considering she's wearing the Nara clan mon and he should know every clan member on sight.

"I think I might have figured it out," the girl says, pulling a pencil out of thin air and making a mark on the papers in her hand, "But it'll probably require additional--oh, hello."

Shikano narrows his eyes at the stranger, before glancing over at his son and the non-clone by his side.

"Son, an explanation would be appreciated."

The three teenagers exchange silent looks. Unsubtle, silent looks.

"Uh, yeah," his son stammers, the other two raising matching eyebrows with skepticism. "Father this is Shikamaru and Shikako, uh, well, Nara."

Shikano gives in to the urge to pinch at the bridge of his nose.

---

it should have gone like this:

Shikano comes home after being handed a headband and a report with so much blacked out that all that is visible is his youngest son's name. Redacted reports. For him? Konoha's Chief Tactician? The Jounin Commander?

He seethes. Who do Hiruzen and Danzo think he is? Some fragile civilian who doesn't know the weight of war grinding at his bones? A fool who doesn't know the scent of poor cover up of a truly heinous SNAFU?

Shikano as a father will mourn his son. Shikano as a clan head will mourn his heir. But the Shikano that has for decades served this village--this Hokage, whatever sick and twisted dynamic he has with his councilors--will never trust the administration that has betrayed him. He understands war. He understands loss. He understands, begrudgingly, acceptable losses. He will never understand the deliberate obfuscation of the truth, of intel that would prevent such a tragedy--such a waste--from ever happening again.

Shikano comes home, heart heavy, mind churning, dreading having to explain to his wife the loss of their second son, having to explain to his clan the loss of their heir.

Shikano comes home and before he can reach for the door to his own house, it opens. The girl who opens the door is pretty, but not beautiful. Unremarkable and almost unrecognizable, except for how she cost him one heir and to see her now, on this day, after he has lost another in a far more permanent way cannot be borne.

"What are you doing here?" Shikano snarls and the small smile that was on the girl's face drops immediately, exchanged for a confused, startled fear.

"I-I," the girl stutters while stepping back, away from him but further into the house.

"How dare you come here!"

Shikano, objectively, knows that he is not being fair. He is taking his anger and heartache out on this wide-eyed girl who just happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time. But he is still a man, for all that he is known for his logic and unbiased reasoning, and he makes mistakes.

"I--"

"Leave her alone," a boy says, joining them in the entrance of the house, standing between them as if Shikano were the intruder here. For a moment, Shikano is swept away by deja vu. This is not Ikoma, no, but Shikaku--younger, impossibly so. It is a jarring thought, enough so to clear away the frenzied rage and realize that the girl also is far too young to be the one Shikaku left the clan for.

"Who are you?" Shikano asks, too late to be met with anything but distrust and apprehension from the teenagers in front of him. They exchange glances between each other and stonily stay silent.

"Father?" a familiar voice says and for a moment, Shikano wonders if perhaps this is a dream: imperfect reflections of his oldest son and the near civilian that stole him away, and now the voice of his fallen son.

But reality asserts himself. This is not a dream, miraculously enough. That is indeed Ikoma standing whole and mostly unharmed before him.

"My son," Shikano says, barely holding back his tears, swallowing down a relieved sob. He reaches out, clapping a hand on Ikoma's shoulder, feeling the warmth and the strength, alive.

Ikoma indulges him--perhaps he has an idea of what news he received, never mind how obviously incorrect it may be--before stepping away, back towards the dining room, where Shikano's wife already sits. The two silent teenagers edge around him, as if afraid to get too close, before taking seats in front of partially eaten snacks and half empty cups of tea.

Ikoma takes a seat of his own and gestures for Shikano to do the same. He does so, almost stupefied, gravity doing most of the work.

"Father, this is Kako and Kamaru," he says, gesturing to the teenagers. They do not give Shikano another glance. "They were the ones who extracted me from my mission and brought me here unnoticed. My teammates were the ones who--" Ikoma stops as if he cannot bear to continue.

"There is something wrong in Konoha," the girl, Kako, says in an almost hushed tone. As she should, such a statement could be considered treason.

The boy, Kamaru, grudgingly says, "We need your help to get rid of it."

If Shikano's hunch for what the something--or, rather, who the someone--is, then he will be more than glad to help.

---

but it actually went like this:

Shikano wakes up in a very comfortable T&I cell.

He knows it is a T&I cell despite the cozy and casual trappings because he helped Seki Hijiri design it just last month. They'd been discussing the validity of intelligence gathered by harsh interrogation--or, worse, torture--and how such unreliability would lead tactics astray.

They hadn't done anything with those designs--supposedly there wasn't enough in the budget to make such renovations--but Shikano knows Seki will hold on to those for when the opportunity arises.

Or, rather, she had held on to those and the opportunity already arose.

Shikano sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. "Watch my students, Hiruzen says. They won't be any trouble, Hiruzen says. They're just learning fuinjutsu, Hiruzen says. They're only genin, Hiruzen says, what's the worse they can get up to?"

Either Hiruzen is foolishly optimistic or he has no idea what his students are capable of. Probably both.

Shikano sighs again.

"Are you alright?" a young voice says.

"Just contemplating some treason," Shikano responds, before reconsidering his words. Obviously he was joking, but sarcasm isn't exactly--

"I know that feeling," the voice assures. When Shikano removes his hand from his face he sees that the speaker is as young as he had thought. She's only a little older than Hiruzen's students, though her presence in the T&I cell means he can't underestimate her.

"Is that why you're the one speaking to me? My treasonous thoughts?" Shikano asks her.

"Not really, although I don't think your thoughts currently count as treasonous." The girl shrugs. "I certainly wouldn't mind if you wanted to talk about how awful the Sandaime and Danzo were, but I'm primarily here for this," she says and her shadow approaches his before stopping short, a familiar greeting from a fellow Nara.

Ah, yes, that makes more sense.

He nods and completes the connection, his shadow overlapping with hers and, in the way known only to Nara, he understands the weight of her soul.

"What is your name?" she asks, even though her compatriots must have already spoken to Hiruzen's students and the fact that they brought a fellow Nara to him means they already know.

"Shikano Nara, fifteenth head of the Nara clan," he answers. Then, "And you?"

Her shadow deepens with something a little sly, a little amused. "Shikako Nara."

The lack of appellation intrigues him, for all that he doesn't show it on his face. She senses it anyway.

"My brother is heir, but since we're twins Dad decided to name us both Shika," she explains.

They sit in silence for a moment, shadows still connected.

Identity no doubt confirmed, Shikano asks, "What happens now?"

"We'll reunite you with your team and find temporary housing until we can figure out how to reverse the, I'll be honest, frankly bizarre seal that sent you here and then you'll go home," Shikako informs him simply.

"That's it?" Shikano asks, skeptically.

"Well, no, but you already knew that." And because their shadows are still connected, he knows how sorry she feels about what comes next. "In order to preserve the timeline, we'll have to erase your memory of anything pertinent you learn."

"I'm the Jounin Commander," he protests, "I can better protect Konoha with the things I learn here!"

Shikako shakes her head, disconnects their shadows, and stands up. She doesn't meet his eyes. "You can't change fate," she says, before leaving the cell.

That's the last thing he remembers.

Shikano wakes up, Hiruzen's students unconscious on the ground around him. They are in the same training ground that they were in before, safe in the heart of Konoha, and yet Shikano knows things have changed.

He stares at the clouds.

Then, after returning the three troublemakers to Hiruzen, Shikano goes home.

~

A/N: I'm gonna be honest, dona, I had no idea who Shikano was: I was split between him being Shikaku's dad or the head during the Warring Clans Era. And I'm not really aware what his widely accepted fanon personality is like. I mean, all I got is that he may be bigoted against non-clan shinobi--at least, enough to disown his heir when he decides to be with the woman he loves... I did consult with the discord and Voldecourt gave me a pretty decent starting block so fingers crossed I did it justice...

For the Could/Should/Actually Fic Ask Box Event!

[sincerelyreidburke]

[“Another one??? Mel, are you okay?” No. I’m never okay. But have fun with this one anyway. Also on AO3.]

three years after graduation | january

 To say that Quinn is exhausted would be a bit of an understatement.

It's... been a long week, and the week isn't even quite over yet. It isn't like weeks being over makes much of a difference anyways, because with all things considered, there's always something to do no matter what day of the week it is. He's trying so hard to keep good spirits, and he's glad to say that for the most part, he's succeeding on that front. To be sure, he's tired— but being tired is an internal thing, and he refuses to let it affect external parts of his life. He may be very tired, and very busy, but he has responsibilities, and the importance of exactly none of those responsibilities is any less just because of the fact that there's a lot on his plate.

It's just that if Quinn is being honest, medical school is like having tech week every single week. Or perhaps not every week; that's rather dramatic. Many of them certainly feel like it, though. There's always an exam on the horizon— like the one coming up a week from now, and the most recent reason for his stress. On a less large-scale basis, there are daily assignments, grades to keep up, labs galore, the dreaded collaborative project with his fellow students. All of the work is towards a goal, of course, and will be well worth it once he finally makes it to the other side. He's learned quite well that the work is worth the goal, when it comes to his career. It's the whole reason he decided to��go to medical school in the first place. It's just that the knowledge that it'll be worth it doesn't take away from the fact that it's hard, busy, difficult work. Any medical student knows this, and he was well warned before he chose to take this path that this was the way it was going to be.

Quinn, though— Quinn has an advantage. Quinn has something that many of his classmates don't have. Because when Quinn goes home at the end of each long, grueling day, he isn't going home to an empty house or apartment. When he goes home, he goes home to the most lovely man— and now, additionally, to the sweetest, most precious little girl. And that, above all else, is what keeps him going.

Tonight, he gets home just after five o'clock. It's a late day, and he knows it, but he was caught in a lab for most of the afternoon, and he texted Sebastián to be sure his arrival time at home would be on his radar. Sebastián goes back to work next month, but for now, he's still on paternity leave, and has been since Violet's very sudden arrival just before the holidays. Quinn asks him if he should pick anything up on the way home, but Sebastián declines; he tells him he's already taken care of everything for dinner. Quinn is grateful beyond words for that— there's always dinner on the table, when he gets home. So many things around the house are taken care of, because Sebastián takes care of them for him. Raising a baby and maintaining a household is a team effort, to be sure, but he's aware— and immensely grateful— for the slack that Sebastián picks up.

So once he's finished on campus, he gets in his car and heads straight toward home. He hits several green lights on his drive, which, without traffic, takes about fifteen or so minutes. Today, he's lucky, and by the time he pulls into the driveway at home, he notes that he's made good time. It's moving toward sunset, but not completely dark yet, and just cool enough for a light jacket and cotton scarf. Quinn has lived in Arizona for three years now— five if you count the summers and Christmas breaks he spent here during the latter half of college— and he believes that slowly, but surely, he's growing used to the temperature cycle here. Really, his scarves are less for practicality and more to complete an outfit nowadays. There's seldom a real need for them. But he wears them anyway, because he wants to.

He parks next to Sebastián's car. The windows of their house are warm-lit, and with the pinkish sky behind it, home has never looked more welcoming. He takes his school bag off of the passenger's seat, slings it over his shoulder, and makes his quick way up the driveway and through the front door.

Walking inside is like getting a hug— home is his safe haven, where even though stresses and school duties may linger over his head, he can find comfort and at least a bit of calm. It smells wonderful inside, like Sebastián's enchiladas, which must be what they're having for dinner. Sebastián himself is not immediately visible, and though her high-chair is by the kitchen table, neither is Violet. He turns on his hearing aids, and speaks quietly, as not to disturb her should she be asleep. "Hello, my loves. I'm home."

There's no response— but he can hear a very faint something in the living room, so he leaves his Oxfords by the door, hangs up his school bag and jacket, and walks across the kitchen. He notes that the oven is on, and through the small window, he can see a tray covered in foil— definitely enchiladas. There's a pot on the stove, which is probably rice. Sebastián is a true wizard in the kitchen; Quinn has been swooning over his food for seven years now. He's extra grateful for it since they graduated, and he grew accustomed to the luxury that is eating it every day.

In the living room, he finds the rest of his small family. The television is on, which is the source of the faint noise; the sound gets a little clearer as he actually enters the room, though he'd never be able to decipher what's being said. It's a cartoon, he notes— one of the ones Violet likes to watch. The play blanket Quinn rush-sewed her in the week following her adoption is spread out on the ground in front of the TV, with a few toys scattered on it— a purple bear he crocheted for her, the plush duck Remy sent in the mail, the doll from Mrs. Hernandez, a teething toy Sebastián bought.

As for the baby herself, though— she's not on the blanket. Instead, she's on the couch, in her papa's arms. Violet looks asleep— with her head pressed into Sebastián's shoulder, she's peaceful and adorable, in a yellow onesie that matches the big cloth bow on her headband. Her hair is getting longer, and curlier, too.

Sebastián is rumpled, in a Kiersey t-shirt and a pair of gym shorts— he's favored his comfortable, casual clothes during paternity leave. His curls are a little ruffled, and he's stretched out on the couch; it's only when Quinn approaches that he lifts his head from bowing it, as if he were almost asleep before, but not quite there. He smiles, and the warm light of the evening catches in his eyes.

Quinn puts a hand to his heart. This, right here— this is everything he'll ever need. "Hello, my dear."

 "Hey, baby," Sebastián whispers, and his voice comes out a bit raspy, as if it's the first time he's spoken in awhile. "How was your day?"

Quinn tries to decide how best to answer that question— because truth be told, he had a long and tiring day, but everything seems better standing here in their living room. He settles on, "It's much better right now than it was five minutes ago."

Sebastián laughs, just gently. "That's good to hear," he says. Quinn walks to him, and leans to give him a gentle kiss hello, minding Violet's head on his way down so he won't disturb her. Thank goodness, he doesn't. She sleeps away.

"How long has she been out?" he asks Sebastián, who shrugs and looks briefly down to her.

"Half an hour?" he replies, when he meets Quinn's eyes again. "I was gonna put her down in the crib, but... I was comfy, and then my arm fell asleep."

Now Quinn laughs, with a hand to his mouth. "Oh, honey," he says. "Do you want me to take her?"

Sebastián shakes his head. "I'll wait it out," he murmurs. "Dinner's in the oven," he adds, tilting his head in the direction of the kitchen. "It should be done soon, but it has to cool awhile."

"It smells delicious," Quinn tells him. "Thank you, honey."

"Of course." Sebastián shifts himself a little on the couch, but keeps Violet in the same position in his arm. He looks up to Quinn, and tips his head just a little, like he's beckoning for him. "Can you join us?"

Quinn has a million things he should be doing, most of them for school. His exam next week is going to drive him completely insane. The only thing in the world he wants right now is to join the two of them, on the couch— and yet he knows he shouldn't. He should be getting ahead on his next reading assignment. He should be proactive. It's a Thursday. He still has class tomorrow.

And yet. "I have a bit of reading to do," he tells Sebastián. "But as long as you wouldn't mind my book coming with me, I don't see why not."

Sebastián smiles, from ear to ear. Quinn didn't know it was possible to love him more than he already did, but every day, in that department, he proves himself wrong yet again. It's only more and more since they became parents. "I don't mind," he says.

So Quinn retrieves his textbook from his bag, and brings a pen and notebook with him, to keep track of what he reads. He can't escape the weight of school on his shoulders— almost literally, as this hefty textbook weighs what feels like a million pounds— but he has a home, and an almost-husband, and a beautiful daughter, and the stress has nothing on those things.

He sinks down next to Sebastián on the couch, and presses against his side. Violet, because she's a tiny blessing, continues, just as peacefully, to sleep. Sebastián gives Quinn's hand a good squeeze, and leans to kiss his temple. He says nothing, but he doesn't have to, because the quiet is a comfort all its own.  Quinn cracks open his book, and dives into the reading. It's dense, and complicated, and all very necessary in order to attain a good grade on his exam next week. He has a headache. His limbs hurt. He only has a few minutes between now and dinner, and after dinner, he'll have to study more. He is exhausted beyond all compare.

But Quinn can do this, because he's not alone.

[if-the-crown-fits-translate-it]

Discord pt 79

[Date: 15/03, 6:49 PM - 7:30 PM GMT]

Maxwell: “hey you guys?

I was wondering if i could ask y'all for advice”

Gyuteinnit: “What's up?”

Maxwell: “do any of y'all know a good way to get rid of headache

I woke up this morning to one and it hasn't gone away yet”

Gyuteinnit: “Try a cold pack and don't be online as much and just try to get away from the screen also possibly sleep if you can”

Maxwell: “Yeah I had been doing that mainly”

fetch: “Warm rag over the eyes and lay down, maybe shut off the lights

thats how mona helped me with mine anyway”

Gyuteinnit: “That also helps”

Maxwell: “hm....”

fetch: “You also just might need to eat or drink something”

Maxwell: “hopefully it does I havent had a headache this bad in a while

usually it goes away after i take a tylenol but its been hours now”

emuhlee: “that's not good”

Maxwell: “ey its

just a headache

itll go away eventually

i just hope sooner rather then later ha...”

emuhlee: “hopefully!”

dreaming: “if it persists you should look into it..

further”

Maxwell: “might be a little hard

not many doctors are accepting of hybrids...”

dreaming: “that sucks, hopefully you can find one..”

Maxwell: “i should be good...i might look up what type of headache it could be that might help with figuring out what caused it”

dreaming: “yeah!”

Maxwell: “it might be a tension one....i cant tell though

its not really near my forehead

more so right above my ears and then around the back”

dreaming: “that.. considering some stuff doesn't sound good...

i don't want to make you scared or anything but..”

Maxwell: “reminds me of when i used to wear a headband or something and it would be sore after ha

scared?”

fetch: “You prolly just slept on your head wrong lmao

I wake up in messed up positions all the time”

Maxwell: “yeah....what was it you were gonna say dreaming?

What?

Is something wrong?”

emuhlee: “i can't speak for them, but what i understood, is they might be a bit worried about syd's new.. headpiece.. and how it uh.. came to be.. and then, uh. you now having a headache..”

jaynoblade: “...yeah that's what i was thinking as well”

Maxwell: “....what...

no no no its not”

Mothbo: “I'd suggest staying away from Baroness/interacting with her until we get more info.”

Maxwell: “it cant be

im fine

ive jsut been sleeping on the floor so much thats it”

fetch: “yall I'm pretty sure we'd know if max had vines growing out of his head”

Maxwell: “yeah”

Mothbo: “To be fair we didn't see Syd's coming either.”

Maxwell: “id notice it when i shower or brush my hair”

Marcus: “Hey hey hey, max it’s okay”

emuhlee: “i think it's just a headache, but it's probably something we should keep in mind”

jaynoblade: “i saw what was happening to syd. none of us knew it was anything more than a headache until it... happened”

fetch: “can we talk about something else. you're just scaring him.”

Mothbo: “It will be okay, Max. I doubt it's the same thing. Try to rest and take headache meds.

Yes lets”

Marcus: “You probably slept on the floor wrong”

jaynoblade: “yeah good idea”

Marcus: “My arm is kind of numb maybe you laid on it?

Made your head sore”

fetch: “oh yeah I caught yall nappin on the floor earlier >:P”

Maxwell: “jus the idea of that happening to me....ugh....watching it happen was bad enough

yeah i....was a little tired earlier

tried to nap to get rid of the headache”

fetch: “farming awwws”

Marcus: “..you weren’t sleeping well last night

Maybe it was that too

Tossing and turning, not getting enough sleep can give you a headache too”

Maxwell: “Maybe...”

emuhlee: “Most signs point to it having to do with your sleep, so i think everything is okay, just a normal headache”

jaynoblade: “i typically find that when i get a headache, drinking a ton of water helps bc i tend to forget and then i get dehydrated"

Maxwell: “True”

Marcus: “We’ll get you some food and water just to make sure it’s not those and then we can do something low energy until you either nap or it goes away on it’s own”

Maxwell: “Could be my teeth too...”

fetch: “Yeah, you're part rat right? Their teeth grow pretty fast don't they”

emuhlee: “Do you normally have caffeine? It could be a lack of caffeine if it's something your body is used to.”

Maxwell: “Yeah I used to have things I’d chew on to keep em from growing too much but I haven’t done that in while”

[emuhlee: “Do you normally have caffeine? It could be a lack of caffeine if it's something your body is used to.”]

Maxwell: “No Mona likes it but I can’t stand the smell, makes me kind of sick”

emuhlee: “not even soda or chocolate? those have caffeine too”

Mothbo: “Tea and energy drinks too”

Maxwell: “I like chocolate but I haven’t had it for a while I’ve mostly been drinking water and milk”

[Maxwell: “Yeah I used to have things I’d chew on to keep em from growing too much but I haven’t done that in while”]

Marcus: “What kind of things do you need? I’m sure there’s something around here”

fetch: “Maybe we can get you chewies? Like hard candies or even a chew stim to keep your teeth grinded down”

[Marcus: “What kind of things do you need? I’m sure there’s something around here”]

Maxwell: “Anything like wood or something would work”

Marcus: “Does it have to be a certain kind? There’s lots of sticks and stuff outside..”

[fetch: “Maybe we can get you chewies? Like hard candies or even a chew stim to keep your teeth grinded down”]

Maxwell: “That....might be helpful thank you my last one broke a while back”

[Marcus: “Does it have to be a certain kind? There’s lots of sticks and stuff outside..”]

Maxwell: “Honestly no as long as it isn’t dirty and won’t give me splinters it’s good”

Marcus: “Okay so we get some from out there, maybe take the bark off and wash them?”

Maxwell: “Sure as long as it doesn’t break super easily”

Marcus: “Okay! I’ll go look around the backyard”

[dreaming: “have you done anything like that recently?..”]

Maxwell: “I don’t like energy drinks or such or sweets...

Hey jack...”

Jack: “hey Max!

honestly i had a pretty bad headache a few days back and it turned out i was just dehydrated.

make sure you drink plenty of water :)”

jaynoblade: “dehydration my abhorred”

Maxwell: “I’ll try”

Jack: “yeah i had like two glasses of cold water and was fine

staying away from Baroness and the Court is probably a good idea for you + the rest of Mona's crew anyways, headache or not. You're all more at risk to start off with.”

Marcus: “Okay I got some, I’ll go clean them up and bring you some food and water

And request for food max?”

[Jack: “staying away from Baroness and the Court is probably a good idea for you + the rest of Mona's crew anyways, headache or not. You're all more at risk to start off with.”]

Maxwell: “I still gotta ask her about that note though....”

Jack: “Even if it's completely unrelated. better safe than sorry. someone else can always ask for you!”

kate: “We can ask my man”

Maxwell: “And not really, maybe some thing cold? My....my mom used to say to me if I wasn’t feeling good to eat something that gave you electrolytes to feel better”

Jack: “coconut water is rad for dehydration, if you're into that sort of thing.

[Maxwell: “And not really, maybe some thing cold? My....my mom used to say to me if I wasn’t feeling good to eat something that gave you electrolytes to feel better”]

Marcus: “Okay! How about some fruits? Strawberries and watermelon boost electrolytes and that’ll help with dehydration too”

Maxwell: “I’ve always liked watermelons....”

Marcus: “Okay I’ll be right back. How do you feel about turkey and cheese sandwiches?

You need some protein”

Maxwell: “Maybe not Turkey but I like cheese....”

[Marcus: “You need some protein”]

Maxwell: “Hey, what’s that supposed to mean”

Marcus: “Okay cheese it is but I’m getting you to eat protein at some point

I’ll be right back okay?”

Maxwell: “Course”

Marcus: “I’ll just be in the kitchen if you need me”

Maxwell: “Got it”

[fiery-assassin-arc]

Bare Yourself - Iris’ POV

tw nudity mention, tw abuse mention

The chiming of the bells coming from St. Auodeon’s Church is enough to bring chills to me, even though it’s a nice spring day. Memories from Catholic school hit me like a train, thinking of Yvette almost. I wonder how she fares—not that it matters.

 She made her choice when she wouldn’t even help me anymore, and I’m the fool for trusting her still.

My hands go to the cross necklace I decided to wear today, the cold metal unfamiliar since it has never remained on my neck until after school. I look over at the nuns, bowing in respect to the people who are entering, seeking a familiar face.

 “Father Daniel.” I announce his name, walking over to him. The nuns look up and smile. Of course they remember me.

 He turns, gives me a soft smile. “Ah, Iris. What a pleasure to see you on holy grounds again. It’s been what, a few months?”

 “Just one month, Father. I heard the bake sale was a success.”  I look over at the nuns. “Sister Harriet, you look lovely as ever.”

 “Oh stop it dearie. I remember when you were just a wee little girl, scared of the ruler. And now look at you, all confident and strong.” She reaches for my wrist and I retract slowly.

 “I was hoping if you weren’t too busy Father, I would like to speak to you.” I whisper the last seven words softly so only he could hear.

 He nods. I don’t tell Father Daniel much. Mainly the nightmares that never wish to cease their orchestra in my skull. And for some of the acts I’ve committed. I couldn’t stop myself from crying when I told him I killed someone, but he never turned me in. Just told me to find some way for forgiveness to seek absolution. Strangely, in the world we live in, we accept it.

 And this church was now polytheistic.

 He takes me to the confessional booth, sitting on the side so he can appear aloof. Once I sit down, my hand goes to my cross. Rubbing the metal until it hurts my fingertips.

 “Father I have felt plagued by the past.” I start off, lean my head against the chair. “For two weeks now, I have gotten nightmares involving . . .” I exhale slowly, thinking if I say his name, he’d appear like Bloody Mary. My finger goes over the rosary beads that were conveniently placed beside me, inhaling deeply.  He’s not here. He won’t get me here. He won’t he won’t— “Remington, someone who had wronged me in the past.”

 He hums. “What about him that plagues you?”

 “I think he’s back.” I breathe the words out. “He attached me in the woods, I know he did. And my family thinks that I’m imagining it.” As the priest remains silent, I sit back and continue. “You know it’s been over three years since he died?”

 “I remember that day, you had come into my church that following night. Still in your gown. Be grateful it was so dark no one recognized you.” He looks up to the sky, probably apologizing to the Gods.  

 “Yeah, thanks for that.” Almost three years ago, after the wedding was off the air of television due to a electrical circuit being cut, I drove the wedding limo towards this very church. When I made it here, still stained with blood, ready to confess my sins, Father Daniel welcomed me inside.

 “Do you believe his spirit is unrestful, due to the nature of his death?”

 “I don’t know.”  Every time I think of the alternative than what I have experienced, it gives me a headache.  “But due to a random Titan bringing people back, if you haven’t heard, anything is possible.”

 “It frightens you, the idea of him back in your life?”

 It makes me sick. He takes my silence as confirmation.

 “I’ve also had dreams… memories of us. I’m not sure, but they feel like they happened. Showing me what he really was.” He’s silent the whole time. Something wet hits my hand, my fingers are burning from the rubbing of the rosary beads.

 The dreams have started last year on my birthday, showing me glimpses, through motion or a whole movie-length. It’s either our happiest moments, or signs of his abuse I didn’t speak out on. That lunch scene genuinely frightened me.

 And I have no idea if it was real, or he’s fabricated it years ago. My heart rattles inside my ribs, hurting me. How deep did his influence run?

 “That is something I don’t think I could help with,”  Father Daniel leaves his side of the booth and walks for a moment. Then he opens my door, his green eyes soft with concern. Hands me a tissue. “I think that we are done for today.”

 I let go of the beads, see the paint is rubbed onto my skin, a rich brown. I must look a mess in front of him. Shaking, crying. “I—I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—”

 “Breathe, child. It is natural to let go of your emotions.” Father Daniel takes my hand, helps me out of the booth. We go out to the back of the courtyard. “There are things even I cannot assist with. Hearing one confess, hear their problems, but at their own mental expense, I feel it would be too much for their soul.” He gingerly places a hand on my shoulder, smiling at me.

 “Of course, Father. What should I do?”

 “I would suggest talking to someone with knowledge of the mind. Perhaps they can help.” I grimace, but he doesn’t notice, or he did. “Or journal, do something to find ways of what it means.” He inhales, continues. “Sometimes God doesn’t have the answer for it all. I hope you find peace, in what you are going through, Iris.”

 I nod, hear a distant clap of thunder over on the east side. It vibrates within my skin. Hot tears slide down my face. “Thank you.”

  Perhaps it’s because I was born in water, or maybe my zodiac sign, but I love the feeling of it.  The floating, the light twinkling through the glassy ceiling of blue. Submerged ten feet underwater in my pool with flowers floating above, I feel a sense of peace. My hand slowly moves in the water, my eyes open. It doesn’t burn.

 My body twists and glides effortlessly, hair tickling my skin. Finding peace through swimming, ballet. Things I used to do before— they can help me. Sure, I could take Father Daniel’s suggestion of seeing a therapist. But not now. Not until I get him out. Out of the physical realm and my mind.

 And these damned memories. Why are they resurfacing? And are they real?

 I swim back up to the surface, pushing my hair back. All that I hear is my breaths, the muffled sounds from my music, and the water moving with me in tandem. I’ve sent the servants home, and I usually pay them while having them every six months. It’s better being alone. No one hears my screams from my nightmares.  No one has to see my battle.

 I’ve had one person to see my vulnerable side like that, and she’s in a crypt in the frozen tundra. Per my demand.  I wasn’t going to let him turn her to rubble. I trusted him.

 I pull myself out of the water, pulling my hair to the side to wring it out of excess liquid. Maybe I could cook something, get my mind off of today. “Radio, off.” I command, and the radio silences, leaving me in quiet. It’s fine. I can make it one day in silence.

 I wrap the towel around myself and exit out the pool room, making my way to the bathroom, and turn on the shower, nice and hot. I strip myself of my swimsuit and get in. Wash the chlorine from my hair and skin, ignoring the sting of soap in my eyes. I blink it away, scrub it out.

 I don’t want to close my eyes.  I don’t want to see the darkness.

I wash my back, the scars showing lines where I was hurt. Can’t believe it’s been six years since that day. As I look, I notice some look older, a bit more darker than the others. As if I had these scars before my kidnapping.

 Couldn’t be my wings giving the scars. It’s a weird sense of anatomy how they come out,  but never resulted in my back bleeding.

 And I remember the pain of each whip, but on some parts, it hurt worse. Hitting something that was there prior.

 I shake off whatever idea I have, despite the chill and continue to shower. Wanting it out of my system. Maybe… Maybe Dad was right. Maybe it was just because of his anniversary of his death that I imagined it. No. It sounded stupid as soon as I thought of it. Dad can be right on many things, but not this.

 Definitely not this.

 I change into some sweatpants and a big shirt once I’m done, splash some cold water on my face before walking out to the living room. I bend to the fireplace and start it up with some wood and a flame. The sounds of the ember popping a comfort to me. When I exhale, I notice how cold it is.

 “Nick?” I say into the silence, before groaning. “Not in the mood for this, big brother. Next time use a lock.”

 “You’re not as aware of your surroundings as you used to be.”

 My instincts are quick, grabbing the fire poker and pointing it straight at the intruder in my home. He stands at the front door, arms behind his back. Clad in blue, the symbol of our clan proud in the center of his headband. A soft smile. Sad, but soft nonetheless. It’s been four months since I’ve seen the man in front of me. Four months since I almost killed him in revenge.

 Not since the funeral of our friends, clan, of Frost.

 “Hi, Sub-Zero.”

[douxie-casperan]

some fake fic meme options: cat with the canary / throwing horns / r.b.f. (resting brunch face) [;)]

[Wow there’s like multiple Zouxie here whoops. I hope that’s okay! I’m literally running where my brain will take me and apparently being in pain and a headache means I want fluff. Though I DID write two angsty for other prompts so it could equally be trying to balance that out lol]

Cat with the canary

Archie stares at the box placed in front of him suspiciously unsure if to even give it a nudge with his paw lest it do... something. The temptation to bat them off the counter in a fragrant act of cat-like behaviour is remarkably strong given the literal crowd watching his every move.

"And what is it you have decided to grace this household with this time?" The cat asks not daring to take his eyes lift from the strange yellow things with beady eyes. The wizard merely rolls his eyes paying more attention to unpacking that the dilemma unfolding in front of him.

"Zoe gave 'em to me when I stopped over after getting food, figured you'd enjoy a treat and they're kinda cute to be honest," he answers stuffing more ramen than should be legally allowed into a cupboard far out of reach of a humble feline who would otherwise try and hide them on the insistence of a healthier diet.

"Apparently they come in lots of different colours? Got herself some in pink, naturally. Hopefully there's some goth abominations lurking out there somewhere too."

"What you humans find cute has always been questionable at best." The familiar levels him with a look for the ensuing laugher and fur bristles even more indignant for it.

"Bird chicks I suppose you could call them that, these however I must vehemently disagree."

"Listen if you don't want them I'll eat them all myself they don't have as much good marshmallow stuff over here. I miss flumps they were killer."

Letting out a snort of disgust and knowing well that is not an idle threat he sits on his haunches to pluck one of these mysterious peeps from their nest. Mentally he dithers for a second or two more trying not to squish the horrid thing between his pads and then ceremoniously bites the head off.

Mmm, not too bad actually

~

Throwing horns

Of all the things that had happened to him in literal centuries, having various Halloween related stuff ceremoniously dumped on his head was surprisingly not on the list until this very moment. Literally spitting feathers (?!) Douxie starts shoving the lot of them off onto his lap to find they also included, funnily enough, a set of blue glittery devil horns. Hmn, he holds them up with a quirked brow, really?

"Come on, this is like the one time of year we can dress up and be stupid and you're not on shift or finding an excuse to cover somebody else!" Zoe says with one hand on hip and the other pointing to his face with nails freshly decorated in deep purples to match her lipstick.

"You've skipped out on me three years in a row mister, you're all out of excuses this time and I want you ready for tomorrow night when I'm dragging your ass out to give this town a show they won't forget."

"That's sure a fancy way of saying drinking," he teases taking the chance for a proper shufty through the fabrics. Oh that one has a bitta potential...

"Plus this is the States remember? They think I'm underage."

"Pfft like you've never faked an ID before or the fact people think you're in college all the time Mr. I've got legs for days so I get asked about taking up modelling."

"Hey that was the 90s love, different time. Hasn't happened again in ages."

"Doux, it literally happened last month when we were in Starbucks, you were too caffeine deprived to figure out what words meant and I got stuck vouching for you appreciating the offer but too busy to think about it right now," she answers back scooping up what suspiciously looks like a Lord of the Rings wizard robe run through tie dye and holding it up like a suggestion and a grin.

"Touché," he answers shaking his head as he is absolutely not wearing that thanks. He won't own up to not remembering if that really did happen or not, if they ever go to a chain it's usually because he's too tired to function beyond ordering a drink and about ready to pass out at the first opportunity.

"Well if you're so insistent I be a lovely witch's consort fer a night, how about the lady herself decides, yeah? Within reason because it's not fair you get all the glamour and I don't fancy going it looking like I fought a bin bag and lost."

She fails to hide the faint blush fast enough from the sly grin on his face but it doesn't stop her snatching the headband from his side and twirling it as a distraction letting the shimmering catch the light just so and taking his attention off her before he can try and say something back. Satisfied, Zoe carefully places them on his head while mussing his hair a little to make sure they sit properly before standing back to admire her handiwork. Perfect.

"Hmm, alright... How about to make it fair I run everything with you first and I help with your makeup if you wear these horns? They're kinda cute and they do match your hair~"

He can't see them himself despite trying his best to which is no doubt deliberate but for a smile like that coming his way he'll happily go with whatever she asks. It's sappy and he could not care less what any other soul out there thought about it. So he simply throws a trademark salute instead.

"Deal."

~

R.B.F. (Resting Brunch Face)

"Rough day?"

She looks up to find Douxie hovering above her, tea in one hand and an éclair in the other with his brow furrowed in concern, hadn't even heard him coming let alone asked for anything yet somehow he managed to know anyway. He keeps joking about once a waiter but it's a little weird seeing it actually happening before her eyes.

"What are you even talking about?" she answers back snapping more than she intends while forcing herself to sit back in the chair instead of burying her head in her arms to give him the space for the plates to be set down with a gentle clink.

"Frankly I'm peachy."

To his credit the wizard simply rolls his eyes patting down the branded apron he's currently wearing looking more the part than usual when he works in Benoit's. Must be an inspection or something...

"For one? You've got the murder look, you only ever get the murder look when either I've done something which I can't have given I've been here all day oooor you've had multiple people try and shame the music selection," he says gesturing with his left hand and the other on hip outright abusing the fact he's taller than usual right now to loom like a mother hen.

"... And on occasion That Guy at Hex Tech but you've not mentioned him in a while. I called in my break so scooch over and blame the fact you chose a booth against a wall."

She shoots him an annoyed look but does as she's bid making enough space though not before hoarding the sweet offering he came with. He's mindful in turn to give her plenty of space so she won't feel squashed even though it means sticking his leg out from under the table so as not to bang his knee on the metal.

"I've not killed anybody before you ask but I might have thought about it."

"Uh huh."

It earns him a swat though to her annoyance he simply laughs her off and slides the tea closer knowing it's better to be patient and let her offer up the answers when she's good and ready instead of trying to push too hard when this angry at the world. They've known each other far too long, literal centuries at this point, that they can be as in tune as breathing when it really needs to count and sometimes it makes her wonder if this is what his own bond with Archie must be like? It certainly feels closer than words can give meaning to. The tea is mint with a hint of a fruit she cannot quite place from the taste of it, the heat helping warm her chest as much as her palms curled around either side of the cup. It's comforting.

"It's," she begins, then pauses ignoring  the way his head tilts to one side to show she's got his full attention she can just make out the corner of her eye.

"The new kid actually. Skittish as hell I don't know what's up with him like there's keeping a low profile and there's I'll pop out of existence like Nightcrawler. Literally every time I try and talk to him alone he just ups and bolts you'd think we like bite or something."

A hum is let out beside her seeming trying to properly weigh up his options from the way his head moves just enough for his hair to shift across his face. Zoe takes the opportunity to grab the éclair so she won't be caught looking too obviously and as ever grateful he didn't bother trying to make her use cutlery and instead left a napkin for the future chocolate mess.

"Must be something up, want me to try and grab him for a natter? Mean I'm still an unknown so might be a bit less threatening and can always try the "Look at my cute cat!" angle if I have to. Doubt it's you personally, could just be nervous of all the ladies you got over there that could kick his ass," he says teasing nudging her in the shoulder getting a derisive snort back.

"What's his name by the way?"

It IS an idea, come to think of it, Douxie carries more of an aura of being harmless and he might be willing to open up more to another guy and help get to the bottom of just what's up without it coming across as an interrogation not to mention genuinely being able to say he's separate from the Coven.  She gives the plate a tab with a nail to make more of a show of debating it before finally answering.

"Calls himself Hank."

[aparticularbandit]

7, 3 and 15 (roisa!)

bookstore au, meet cute, “I’m rambling again, aren’t i?”

@backlandsofbutter - thanks for the prompt!!!!

prompts found here!

The bell over the door dinged just as Luisa opened the door, and she quickly leaned up on her tiptoes and stoppered the clapper, waiting for the imminent groan she expected from the indie store’s owner.  He didn’t always have a headache, but most of the time when she was there, he said he did, and she thought, you know, the bell over the door being that loud and that sharp probably didn’t help.

But there was no groan.

Luisa span on her heel and stared over at the front desk.  No owner there, either.  Hm.  Weird. He was probably in one of the aisles rearranging things – probably the romance shelves because if Jane wasn’t here now, she’d probably been here earlier – one of her favorite authors had just dropped a new book and Jane was the sort of person who couldn’t get just one book; she’d have gone through the entire romance section – again – and pulled out three or four and built little stacks without thinking about it with books she wanted to get and books she wanted to get now and ones she wasn’t sure about quite yet – none of which Luisa ever did, seeing as how she had enough money to just…buy the books she wanted without having to separate them into stacks – and the owner would have had to go and take the ones she had decided to wait on and put them back on the shelves and make sure everything was in the proper place.

And of course, despite the fact that Luisa knew she had a book she’d preordered waiting on her at the front desk, it was much easier to roam the shelves and see who was here and where the store owner was.  Especially since said book owner had not liked it when she tried to go behind the counter to find her book the last time she preordered one and couldn’t find him and since she knew he often got headaches whenever she was around, she thought maybe not the best idea to ding the bell sitting on the front counter, despite the fact that the entire reason for it being there was to alert him to someone needing his assistance.

Then again, that was the point of the bell over the door, too, wasn’t it?  And she hadn’t been that fast at stoppering it, had she?  So he should know someone was here, shouldn’t he?

Meh, it was more fun to go look through the shelves and their aisles anyway.

Luisa didn’t start at the romance section, but as she went past the aisles and didn’t see anyone, she was more convinced that she had been right.  But, instead of seeing the book owner grumbling to himself and slowly moving books from stacks and scanning the aisles and squinting and glaring at them as he moved books around and put them back where they were, Luisa was instead greeted by a tall redhead with frizzy red hair – red, red, red – glasses perched on the edge of her nose, a navy blue polo shirt tucked into light colored jeans that did an excellent job shaping her—

Luisa.

She swallowed and felt her heart pound just once against the frame of her chest.

The redhead didn’t seem to notice she was there, though.  Instead, one long finger flipped the page of – was that Spring Fire?  Luisa narrowed her eyes as though that would help her see better. She knew the cover of Spring Fire, but the problem was that she was seeing the back of the cover and that was a little harder to tell. The colors looked right.  There were stacks of books all around the redhead – Jane was here, then, because Luisa could pick out a few of the books that she knew Jane wanted and hadn’t gotten yet in some of them, which meant that the owner hadn’t organized them yet – and where was he?

Luisa bit her lower lip, brushed some of her hair behind her ear – she’d pulled half of it back, but it didn’t always like to stay back – in fact, some of it had pulled free and liked to dangle just in front of her face.  It was those stupid bangs she’d tried to give herself a few weeks ago.  They’d grown out enough that they could almost get back into the half tail and they could almost stay tucked behind her ears, but they didn’t like to do it and she hated the way the little clips and pins looked holding them back – unless they were the cheap butterflies that she used to wear when she was smaller because then she’d have a rainbow of them like a headband – but she hadn’t done that today.  Too much effort.  Far too much effort for a day that was built for a light grey t-shirt with a bright rainbow with a smiley face and clouds for its cheeks proudly proclaiming it was into girls today, thank you very much! and short shorts with the ends rolled up so that they were even shorter – her legs were one of her best features and it was hot out and she didn’t feel like hiding them away if she didn’t have to – and a blue shirt with pink and white plaid stripes tied around her waist and making her already big hips seem even bigger—

Luisa bit her lower lip, brushed some of her hair behind her ear, where it did not stay, despite how much she tried to forcibly push it there, and calmly approached the redhead and tried very, very hard not to stare at her ass, which meant she had to look up, and then she had to try very, very hard not to stare at the rest of her.

She found a spattering of freckles along her arms – that helped – and as she approached, she said, trying to keep her voice down because she knew what it was like to be interrupted in the middle of reading a book, especially a good romance book – and it was, that was Spring Fire, she knew it!

“Have you seen Phillips around here somewhere?” Luisa asked, putting on her most charming grin – not the smug one, which was her particular favorite, but the happy one that made people more likely to like her.  Then she stopped, considered it, and then continued, “Phillips is the store owner.  Usually sits behind the front counter?  Sometimes hangs out in the aisles.  Was probably trying to fix these books earlier?”

The redhead stuck a receipt paper to hold her spot in the book and turned to face Luisa, and Luisa felt her heart drop a bit.  This woman had the most piercing sky blue eyes.  At least that gave her something to focus on higher up than everything else that kept trying to tear her gaze away.  “He took the day off,” she said, her voice smooth and cool.  She hid the book under her arm and stepped lightly around the piles of books, holding out one hand.  “I’m Clara – Rose—”  She stopped and kneaded her forehead with one hand then sighed and held out her hand again.  “I’m Rose.”  A smile graced her lips.  “I’m his new assistant.”

“New assistant?”  Luisa’s eyes widened, and it took a second before she acknowledged the other woman’s hand and took it between both of her own.  “Phillips is the only one I’ve ever seen working here.  You don’t get headaches, do you?  I mean, I’m sure you do; everyone gets headaches at some point in time or other, but you’re not going to get a headache from the doorbell – not the doorbell but the one that’s hanging…over…the door – you know what I mean, you won’t get a headache or have one and get bothered by people coming in or ringing the bell at the counter if they need you and—” She flushed a bright scarlet and dropped the other woman’s hand and brushed that bit of hair that had used to be bangs and now was too long for that but too short to stay put back behind her ear again.  “Sorry. I ramble.  I’m good at rambling.”

“That’s okay,” Rose said, and she smiled – a soft thing – and Luisa felt her heart ache.  “It’s—”

“—annoying, I know,” Luisa interrupted, rolling her eyes with a little shake of her head.  She grinned.  “I try to stop, but I’m no good at it.  Luisa Alver, by the way,” she continued without even thinking about it.  “Is my name. Luisa Alver.  Luisa, you don’t have to say both of them; in fact, I would like it so much better if you didn’t use both of them, I’m just Luisa, or Lu, you can call me that, but don’t call me Loony, that’s kind of offensive, I won’t take it well, and—” She sighed, biting her lower lip again. “I’m rambling again, aren’t I?”

“I don’t mind.”  It looked like Rose was suppressing the urge to laugh.  “And I was trying to say I thought it was cute, not annoying.”  She shelved Spring Fire, tapped it once with one long finger, and then turned back to her.  “Did you need me for something, since Phillips isn’t here?”

“Yeah, right, of course, yeah.”  Luisa shook her head once, trying – and failing – to get a grip on herself.  “I had a book on reserve, and I couldn’t help but notice that’s, um, that’s Spring Fire, isn’t it?  The book you were reading?”  She tried to meet Rose’s eyes, but the redhead avoided her gaze.  “I read it for the first time a few months ago.  It’s a classic.”

Rose froze, and her brows lifted as her gaze met Luisa’s.  The novel hung in the air between them for a few seconds before the redhead said, hesitantly, “What did you think?”

“It’s the first lesbian pulp novel, so while some of its wording was weird, obviously I loved it.”  Luisa pointed to the rainbow on her shirt, as if Rose hadn’t noticed it – and maybe, thinking about this the way that maybe she should have, Rose had been carefully trying to avoid looking at her in a way that might have made her uncomfortable in the same way she’d been trying not to look at Rose.

Rose’s eyes drifted to Luisa’s chest, where the rainbow still proudly proclaimed it was into girls today, and a bright smile spread slowly across her face.  Her eyes lifted and met Luisa’s and then she tilted her head to one side. “You’re the one who reserved—”

“Yes, that was me, that was definitely me, and you can borrow it if you want because I’m sure Phillips didn’t order more than that one unless you preordered one, too.”  The words came out all in a rush before Rose could even finish her sentence, and Luisa started to flush with embarrassment again before having a sudden realization.  She slowly moved through the stacks so that she was closer to Rose.  “You said my rambling was cute.”

One of Rose’s brows lifted again, and she stood in the same place, very carefully not moving as Luisa moved towards her.  “Yes,” she said hesitantly.  “Why?”

“Is there anything else about me that you think is cute?”  Luisa’s smile turned smug – her favorite of her expressions – as she watched Rose’s cheeks turn a bright, unsettled pink.  “I’ll take that as a yes.  You don’t have to say anything.”  She pulled a pen out from her purse, grabbed Rose’s hand, and slowly wrote her phone number on her palm.  “When you get off work.”

“Or,” Rose hesitated, her gaze flicking from her palm to Luisa’s eyes and then back again, “you could stay here with me.  Point out more of your favorite books.  Let me reshelve these while we talk,” she didn’t even have to gesture to the stacks of books, “and when I get my dinner break, we can—”

“—go get dinner together?”  Luisa grinned.  “I know the cutest little sandwich shop just a few blocks from here, and they have the best chocolate-covered doughnuts—”

“I like powdered ones better, myself.”  Rose tugged on one of the sleeves of Luisa’s flannel shirt.  “And let’s not get ahead of ourselves.  Maybe I just want to hear what you ramble about if I keep you here long enough.”  One corner of her lips lifted.  “Or you could just read me some of that book you have reserved.”

Luisa’s eyes widened.  “You better hope no one else comes in here, then.”

“I could lock the door.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, she say.  I could lock the door, she says.”  Luisa couldn’t help herself from laughing.  “Phillips wouldn’t be happy with you locking the door, and I’ve only known you a few minutes and I already like you better than Phillips, and I would hate to see you lose your job just because you wanted me to read a book out loud when I could just sit here and show you some other books and stretch my legs out in front of me and I could stare at you and every now and again you’d look at my legs because they’re gorgeous and we’d meet eyes every now and again and—”

“Luisa.”

“What, I thought you liked my rambling.”  Luisa let her smug grin linger just the slightest bit.  “Or was that too much?”  Then, before Rose could say anything in reply, she reached over and patted her hand. “Wait here.  I have a great idea!”

“Luisa—”

The bell dinged overhead as Luisa left the bookstore – she knew a vending machine at a store a couple of stores over that would have powdered donuts – and this time, when she came back, she didn’t even think about reaching up to stopper it.

[khhunniewriting]

The Others (3)

[ Mafia/Gang AU ]

Jay smirked seeing Dok2 arrive at the meeting with his son in tow. “Don’t you think the kid is a bit young to be listening in on these conversations?”

Dok2 closed the door of his car with no prior warning to Ji-hoon who was still insistent on arguing with his father. He rounded the car as two guards came out of a vehicle behind him and stood on either side of the car Ji-hoon was in to ensure he would remain in there.

Once again Ji-hoon had managed to compromise his own safety for his father’s attention. It just so happened to be a day when he was going to meet Jay Park, AOMG’s leader and the rival to Illionaire.

The two groups operated in separate areas except for a few streets that were shared. This area was always a headache to Dok2 as he often got called to deal with things mutually.

“Why did you call me here?” He ignored Jay’s previous remark and got down to business as usual.

“Seems your men are getting sloppy Joonkyung.” Jay pointed to the wild brush along the highway to give him a reference area. “My men found a body the other day that didn’t belong to us.”

“So you assume it was ours?”

“If it’s not then we would have a pretty big problem on our hands. I don’t think there’s room for a third competitor in the market.” Dok2 did not offer any form of response unless information was given and Jay knew that. Yet, he loved to joke around with him. “Don’t worry my men took care of the cleanup and got the cops off both our as*es. I just wanted to let you know there would be a price to pay for sloppy work.”

Dok2 gave him a pointed look, “You would know.”

Jay had been incarcerated for ten years allowing Illionaire to further the gap between the two groups as AOMG struggled to keep themselves together without their leader. Jay Park was annoyed every time he was reminded of it, nonetheless, he smirked knowing soon he would have the upper hand. 

“I do know a lot don’t I.”

Jay’s smile irritated Dok2 knowing very well it had a hidden meaning. “Unlike you, time is not something I can spare. If you have something to say then be direct.”

Jay nodded, “That’s why I never had any children. At least you don’t have to worry about that last one.” Jay gave Dok2 a pat on the shoulder. “See you later Joonkyung.”

Dok2 didn’t bother with the commentary of someone beneath him. Everything that came out of Jay Park’s mouth went in one ear and out the other. 

As Jay walked past Dok2′s car he got a better look of Ji-hoon who was seated in the passenger seat. His signature unruly hair was slightly less so allowing him to make out the boy’s features. Mentally he began envisioning Leo beside him and smiled. It has to be his.

Ji-hoon scowled at Jay Park in turn. Stupid adults. When his father got in the car Ji-hoon expressed his distaste for Jay. “That guy really annoys me. Who does he think he is smiling at me.”

Dok2 turned to his son showing the same blank look he gave Jay earlier. “Ji-hoon, as my son you will have to learn to put your feelings aside if you are going to become Illionaire’s leader.”

“Why? Isn’t it better just to let out your anger-”

Dok2 realized how similar Ji-hoon was to his mother. They were quick to act on their emotions, never hiding their distaste for things. 

“I hate when people act all cool,” Ji-hoon scowled remembering how he had encountered someone similar to his dad. “How can you stay silent when someone is confronting you? If you’re mad shout, if you’re hurt then f*cking say something!”

Dok2 gave his son a pointed look.

Ji-hoon crossed his arms with a huff. “Forget it-” he grumbled to himself as he slouched back into the seat and looked out the window. “That guy is so annoying.”

\\\

At the end of the school year, there was one final game for Leo’s school. He was warming up when the rival team entered the gymnasium. 

His eyes spotted the unruly kid who by now had made it clear that Leo was his target. His long wavy tresses were held back out of his face by a headband after being called out on it in a previous game.

Leo’s friends caught him eyeing his rival. “Don’t worry about him.”

The silent teen turned his attention back to his side of the court and nodded to assure them he wasn’t worried. He followed through by shooting flawlessly from the free-throw line. 

Unfortunately, he was wrong.

Leo gritted his teeth when he fell back onto the ground. One of his teammates quickly came to his aide and helped him up off the ground.

“You alright man?”

Leo nodded looking stoic as ever even after he just fell on his ass in front of everyone.

The ref blew the whistle carding the person who had knocked Leo down from mid-air. “Number eight pushing,”

Number eight was Leo’s rival. The kid was much taller than Leo and nearly growled at him after being called out. “Come on!”

Leo did nothing but stare in silence when he got scolded by his coach. His eyes shifted to the crowd where he expected to see you.

Sadly his eyes never landed on you that game.

This was his final game and he won again. The next time he plays it will be as a high school student because he did intend to continue the sport.

“Leo congratulations~” A few girls from his class caught him after he had taken the picture with his team and asked if they too could take a picture with him.

He had no objections as he simply stood and waited for them to take a selfie with him. His talkative teammates/friends were closeby to witness the scene. “So he’s athletic, smart, and good with girls?”

“Guess so.”

“I’m so jealous! What did he even say to get them?”

The other shrugged knowing 100% of the conversations Leo has are never initiated by him. “Nothing, guess girls just really like the mysterious silent type.”

\\\

When Leo came home he found you sleeping on the couch. Your purse was crossed over your chest, your shoes on and the television on. This had happened before.

Leo knew you were tired from working so much. You justified taking a nap by making sure you were ready to run out the door the moment you woke up- hence the purse and shoes.

This had happened before when he asked you for a computer and you went above and beyond by buying him the most ridiculously expensive computer. Being a single parent, single-income household meant you made all the money.

Now that he thought about it, Leo hated that about you. There was no need yet you always seemed to try and recompensate for something. He feared what that something was. He never dared say nor ask.

I don’t need it if I never had it. Words he kept to himself but often thought when people tried to coax him into new things that didn’t interest him.

The young boy let his heavy sports bag fall to the ground yet you did not move. He went further by opening and closing doors as loudly as possible but still no reaction.

Feeling a little sore from his side, where the kid elbowed him, Leo went for an icepack. He sat down beside you in the small space you had left unoccupied and put his feet up on the coffee table as he held the ice in place.

After flipping through a few channels he noted you began to stir.

“Huh, what time is it- Leo?” Your eyes nearly bulged out seeing your son was already home. “Did I miss it!”

He nodded.

Suddenly you were sulking throwing yourself back into the cushions with an exasperated sigh. “How could I miss your final game... I’m a horrible mother.”

Leo practically slammed the ice pack on your forehead to negate your response but all it did was anger you.

“Why do you have this? Did something happen to you?”

He reluctantly pulled his shirt up exposing the purplish bruise on his side.

“My poor baby,” you gasped placing the ice back on it. “How did this happen? Was it number eight? I hope the ref saw it.”

Again he nodded to assure you this foul had been called out.

“Still, harming my precious son-” you chocked back tears feeling helpless. He didn’t know it but all his life you had been paranoid about him being hurt. Illionaire and Kylie were always in the back of your mind.

If she was ever curious enough to look for you again surely she would see that Leo was indeed Joonkyung’s son. The thought alone nearly kept you from sleeping at night. It was your reason for moving when he began primary school.

You pushed all negative thoughts aside when you noticed Leo staring at you. “Oh, right I almost forgot.” Leaving him alone for a second you retreated into your bedroom to fetch a colorfully wrapped box.

Leo stared at the item as you placed it on his lap.

“Open it.”

He meticulously pulled at the tape salvaging the wrapping paper not because it was how he usually went about gift wrapping but because it was easy to see you had haphazardly wrapped it in a way where the tape wasn’t completely set.

“You’re no fun, Leo.”

The young teenage boy rolled his eyes. The final piece was removed and he saw the familiar black box of an expensive basketball shoe brand. Now he knew why you had been working so much.

He gave you an unreadable look which worried you. “What? Weren’t those the ones you wanted? I saw you looking at them when we were shopping last week.”

He nodded, sure he liked them but he didn’t need them. His current shoes were fine. It wasn’t until your shoulders fell that he realized this was obvious on his face. “I like them.”

Three words and your smile was back. “I’m so glad,” you wrapped your arms around him tightly not minding at all that he didn’t return it. “I promise I won’t miss another game.”

A long silence took over until your ears perked up hearing his muffled voice.

“Promise?”

“Promise!”

\\\

Dok2 avoided Kylie like the plague now that she was constantly flaunting her daughter around. That meant he went home less than before and he was rarely there, to begin with.

But unfortunately, sometimes he ran into her when he would pick up his son. It wasn’t spoken of but he had moved out to his own place where he often took his son. He was old enough to start learning about the business he would inherit so that’s what Dok2 did. 

“Hello Joonkyung, did you come for my son?”

“He’s going to stay with me for a while.”

Kylie looked legitimately upset and confused. “What?”

“Hey Dad,” Ji-hoon came down the marble stairs tapping away at his phone with a duffel bag on his shoulder. “Bye Mom.”

“When did you start deciding things on your own?”

Ji-hoon sighed angrily, “Since you stopped giving a damn about what I do.” His mother hardly ever paid attention to him, leaving him to do as he pleases. The only time he mattered was whenever his father was being mentioned.

He became painfully aware of the kind of relationship his parents had when his sister was born. He began doing all sorts of things for attention, all bad until now. He realized no matter what he did his mother could care less.

“The high school I want to go to is near Dad’s house anyway so it will be better if I stay with him.”

Even Dok2 was caught off guard by that confession. He thought he was picking his son up for a few days, not a permanent living adjustment. “Ji-hoon-”

“What, are you going to deny me too?”

Dok2 and Kylie looked to each other for a response, neither knowing what to do.

-end-

A/N: I tried to keep it a secret and make it suspenseful but I think everyone knows who Leos’ rival is.

[isolavirtuosa]

Starting Over (Again)

[fanfiction] NaruSasu

Sequel to Starting Over.

Sasuke cannot even pretend that he is living the dream.

Starting Over (Again)

Isola Virtuosa

  When I woke up, all I felt was pain.  Every inch of my body ached, and I couldn’t so much as open my eyes, much less move.

“Sasuke…”

I breathed in.  “Na..” I tried to speak, my voice cracking.  I cleared my throat.  “Naruto?”

“Sas’, help me,” he pleaded.  “I can’t fight it anymore.”

“I can’t move,” I whispered.

“You have to.”

I tried to open my eyes.  I felt something creeping along my cheek, and I knew.  If I didn’t move now, I would be sucked back into the Infinite Tsukuyomi.  I mustered up everything I had and rolled over.

“Oof,” Naruto grunted as I hit him.  “I don’t think that helped,” he said with a chuckle that immediately turned into a coughing fit.

“I don’t have any chakra,” I said, forcing one eye open.

Naruto lay next to me, his chest rising and falling unevenly.  “I have a little.”

“We need the rinnegan to dispel it.”

“I know that, asshole.”

I felt myself smiling.

“Shit, I missed you,” he said with a returning grin.

“So I wasn’t in your perfect world?” I scoffed.  Not that I cared.

“You were always too far away,” he said, bumping his shoulder into mine.  “Were you… did your rinnegan protect you from the Tsukuyomi?  How did you wake me up?”

I coughed, watching the blood splatter across my chest.  “It couldn’t hold me.”

“Why do you always have to sound so cool?” he groaned.  “Just answer the question normally.”

I was losing consciousness again.

“Shit, Sasuke!  Come on, we have to dispel this damn thing!”

I tried to answer, but I felt like I was under water, my mouth moving but nothing coming out.

It went through me like a shockwave.

“You know how to take my chakra, right?” he said, holding my hand to his heart.

“Stop,” I gasped.  I could feel the life draining from him.

“Just enough so we can do this,” he said.

I tried to take my hand away, but it felt good.  I could feel my power coming back, minuscule bit by minuscule bit.

“You good?” Naruto asked, the rise of his chest getting more erratic.

I pushed the chakra into my rinnegan, feeling it flare to life.  I took my hand away quickly, and Naruto gasped in relief.  “Did I take too much?” I asked, watching him struggle to breathe.

“Nah,” he said, his eyes drifting shut.

“Naruto.”

“Just lemme rest for a second.”

“We don’t have a second,” I said, feeling the rustle of something against my leg.

“Okay,” Naruto whispered, holding out his hand to me.

We formed the seal.

“Is anything happening?” Naruto asked.  He dissolved into a coughing spell, though his fingers stayed locked tightly with mine.

“I don’t know anymore,” I said, the adrenaline I’d gotten from receiving Naruto’s chakra already fading.  It was getting harder to stay awake, so I pushed everything I had into my rinnegan.

“I sure hope it worked…” he trailed off, and I felt his fingers go slack.

I tightened my grip even as I drifted out of consciousness.

A steady beeping sound filled my ears.

I forced my eyes open and immediately regretted it, quickly shutting them against the brightness of the sun shining through the window.

We’d released the seal.  I was back in Konoha, this time for real.

There was no reason to think about the other time.

“What was your dream like?” Naruto asked for the hundredth time, sitting cross-legged at the end of my hospital bed.

“Dream-like,” I said tiredly, not looking up from the scroll I was reading.

“I told you all about mine,” he complained.

“I didn’t ask, and I definitely didn’t want to hear about it.”

“No, see, you acted like you weren’t listening but I could tell that you were listening enraptly.”

I sighed loudly to express my displeasure and continued to not look at him.

“Saaaasuke,” he complained.  He dropped his hand heavily on my leg.  “I’m bored.  And lonely.  Talk to me.”

I continued to ignore him, especially the way that hand of his was subconsciously creeping up above my knee.

He finally seemed to notice, snatching his hand away and laughing nervously.

My eyes flicked towards the window, then back to the scroll in my hand.  It was the terms of my pardon.

I hadn’t told Naruto that I’d been exiled yet.  Save that headache for another day.

“Where do you go?” he murmured, blue eyes like a beacon catching the moonlight from the window.

“Don’t ask meaningless questions,” I said, trying to look away with little success.

“But it’s like you disappear sometimes.”

There was hurt and fear in his eyes, and I felt like I was drowning.  “I’m right here, idiot.”

“You are, aren’t you?” he said, forcing a smile.  He was touching me again, this time my arm.

“It’s late,” I said, shrugging away from him.  “You should go back to your room.”

“Am I bothering you?”

“Yes.”

He didn’t look at me as he got up to leave.

If this had been the other world, he would have turned around before closing the door.  He would have forced me to tell him what was in the scroll.

“I’ll go with you.”

I’d laughed at him.  “And what about Konoha?  I thought you were going to be the hokage,” I’d scoffed.

“I don’t need that anymore.”

The fact that I hadn’t been able to see through such a pathetic illusion was embarrassing.

Naruto was more subdued the next time he came to my room.

I thought I could tell him.  He was sitting on the chair next to my bed, spinning a kunai around his finger, still nervous and awkward from the last time I’d told him off.  This was it, this was the perfect opportunity, but every time I tried to open my mouth it stayed firmly shut.

This Naruto wasn’t the Naruto from my world.  He wasn’t going to throw everything away to follow me.

It would be easier if I just disappeared.

That went about as well as could be expected.

“You were just going to leave?” he asked incredulously, blocking my path.

“I’ve been exiled,” I said with a shrug.

“Well that’s just stupid!”

I stared at him.

“We can fight this, we can change the council’s mind, we can-”

All I wanted was for him to just throw everything away and come with me.  But that wasn’t what the real Naruto would do.  I stepped around him and continued walking.

He predictably grabbed my arm and tried to speechify me into staying.

“This is what I want.”

His grip loosened enough that I could step out of it.

I hesitated.

“No it isn’t,” he whispered fiercely.

“You don’t know shit, Naruto,” I growled, shaking him away and continuing forward.

“Don’t make me go through this again,” he pleaded to my retreating back.

I didn’t answer him.

It didn’t tear me up inside to know that this was reality.  I’d always known the truth, somewhere deep inside.  It’s how I’d broken out of the genjutsu in the first place.

“I feel the same way,” he’d told me, and the touch of his lips on mine made me want to stay inside that impossible world forever.

I had to wake up instead, rinnegan activated as I tore out of the darkness.  It wasn’t hard to find Naruto’s pod.  It took more effort than I’d like to admit to pull him from it.  My arm was infected.  I could feel the poison creeping through my veins, but I knew there was no time.  It took more than a day for my rinnegan to break through to him.  I sat in the hot sun, the remains of my stump oozing pus, trying to gather enough chakra to protect us both.

He woke up and then...

And then what?

It was like there was a hole in my memory.  I must have been delirious from the fever.

Then we undid the seal.

But…

“Sasuke!”

I’d only been out of Konoha six months, yet here he was in a little middle-of-nowhere outpost.

“Don’t you have a job or something?” I asked, looking him up and down.  I wasn’t happy to see him.  I wasn’t hopeful.

“Yeah, I’m doin’ it,” Naruto said, tapping his headband.

I looked at the woman selling vegetables.  I looked at the shack that was supposed to be an inn.  I looked at the field full of cows.

I looked back at Naruto.

“It’s you, silly,” he said cheerfully.

“What’s me?”

“You’re my job!”

“Oh, no, I don’t think so,” I said, turning around and walking away abruptly.  Half of my mouth crept up in the semblance of a smile.

“Orders from the hokage right here!” Naruto said, jumping in front of me and sticking a piece of paper in my face.

“What the hell is this crap?” I grumbled.  I snatched the paper from him and started reading it.

Naruto took one look at my face and sensibly backed away.

“So you’re just going to stalk me for a month to make sure I’m behaving properly?” I spat out.  “Be Konoha’s little spy?”

“It’s not really spying if you know that I’m here,” he pointed out.

“I don’t want you here.”

“Look, this is the only way that the Counsel might change their mi-”

“Are you still stuck on that delusional nonsense?”

“How is it delusional?!”

“Because you’re a moron.”

“Well you’re a dumb-dumb duckbutt.”

We stared at each other.

Everything felt wrong.  This wasn’t how we were supposed to be.  In my world…

I wanted to kick myself in the face.  What kind of person couldn’t let go of a dream and start living in reality?

“I bet you all the money you’re carrying that I can lose you by tomorrow,” I said.

Naruto’s eyes narrowed into slits.

I smirked at him.

“You don’t know who you’re dealing with, Uchiha!”

I continued on my way to the next town, Naruto yapping at my side.  It was like the world had clicked back into place.

I won the bet, though Naruto argued with me that I hadn’t because he found me again eventually.

“Buy us dinner at least,” I complained.  “Sore loser.”

“I didn’t lose!”

A month passed by quickly in a flurry of arguments and hidden smiles.

“You know you’re going to miss travelling with me,” Naruto said, poking me in the side while I tried to eat my breakfast.

I didn’t tell him that we’d travelled together for years, and that the only reason we weren’t still travelling together was because the moment he kissed me I knew that the world I was living in could not possibly be real.

“I’m gonna get you un-exiled,” he said more confidently.

We’d already had this conversation a million times.  “I won’t ever live in Konoha.  You know I won’t.  I can’t.”

“Yeah, but-”

“Naruto.”

He was quiet for a moment, staring into his rice bowl.  “You know I can’t leave Konoha.”

“No one was asking you to.”  Please leave Konoha.

“Then what did I fight so hard for all those years?  What’s the point of it all if you just leave again?!” he demanded, his hands shaking.

“The point is that I didn’t kill the kages.  I didn’t remake the world in my image.  You won, okay?”

“This isn’t winning!” he snapped, turning the full force of his red eyes on me.  “We’re supposed to be doing this together!”

My fleeting hope was turning into dread.  “Do what?” I asked, picking up my soup and stirring the miso around.

“Rebuilding Konoha!  Rebuilding the world!  Not the way you wanted to, but the way that we want to.  Together.  As best friends!”

That last part seemed unnecessary, but it soothed the little rumbling at the back of my mind that kept saying, ‘Naruto wouldn’t say that.  Naruto wouldn’t do that.’  Because Naruto would definitely insist that the reason he wanted me to stay in Konoha was because we were friends.

But that would never be enough for me.

“Sasuke,” he said, calming back down to blue eyes and resting his hand on my shoulder.  “I need you.”

That voice in the back of my head was getting more insistent.

Naruto suddenly retracted his hand.  “You’re the only ninja who’s almost as strong as me, heh.”

I felt all the air leave my lungs.  I looked towards the window frantically.

“Sas’?  You… okay?”

I looked back to him, my breathing erratic.  “What would you say if I told you that I love you?”

His brow crinkled in confusion.

He had to reject me.  That was the only way to dispel this insane idea.

“I… haha, jerk, what are you-”

“I love you,” I said, completely seriously.  Reject me, reject me, reject me…

“I… I’m not… gay…” he trailed off.

Of course he wasn’t.  The real Naruto wasn’t gay.

“I am,” I said.

I saw the way his body subconsciously recoiled from me.  Good.  It wasn’t true.

Then it sank in what I’d just done.  If this was the real world… and I’d just come out to Naruto…

My chest ached with a pain I’d never felt before.  If this was the real Naruto, and he was about to disappear from my life…

I didn’t want that.

His hand touched my cheek and my eyes snapped to him in surprise.

“Hey, look, um… don’t… I just… you caught me by surprise, okay?” he said, his expression softening.  The disgust had disappeared from his face.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake,” I said, shoving him away and stalking outside.

“Sasuke?!”

I was directing everything that was happening in this world.

“Sasuke, hey!” Naruto cried, trying to stop me.

It wasn’t going to work.

I looked up at the swirling red moon.

“Fucking genjutsu,” I muttered, activating my rinnegan and watching the world bleed away.