#Or the stupid athletic kids drag them away

[my-love-of-books]

I need a Eddie x reader song fic with cigarette daydream UGGGGGGGG

[mae-gi-writes]

let it be me | kuroo tetsurou (2)

In which you, as a new divorcée, can't help but crush on your 4-year-old's new PE Coach.

genre: singleparent!reader x coach! Kuroo, fluff, acquaintances-to-lovers

taglist: @patpatspatz @matchagirliris @multi-fandom-fanfic @alittlebirdahgaselx @kuroos--little--kitten @menacejelly12 @aeshiue @dreamlessnight @altheades @loonalockley @not-your-average-fangirl @bertqut1 @sunlixfl-blog @nabboo007

a/n: enjoy! <3 thanks for all the love given to the first part of this story! here's the second part. Third part is coming soon ~

---- previous | part two | next part >>>

"He can't be serious."

You sigh and watch the wine in your glass slosh around, creating beautiful patterns along the rim of your glass, "unfortunately, I think he is."

Your cousin has on an expression you can't quite place, in-between disgust and pure confusion. He's at the microwave, busy heating up some popcorn. Having adamantly asked you to sit on his couch while taking care of the snacks, you thus decided to watch Sakura play with her legos along the carpet, keeping a watchful eye in case one might end up in her mouth.

"He's only marrying her for the money," is what he concludes after a small pause.

You snort into your glass, take a sip of it and allow the bitterness to coat your tongue, "I wish that were true."

"How would you know that?"

" 'Tsumu, is it written stupid on my forehead?" your own wrinkles in distaste, "I see the way he looks at her. He's--" you choke on your words then, the knot in your throat growing tenfold, "--he's in love with her."

"Who is in love, mum?"

"No one at all," you're quick to answer upon noticing Sakura has been listening in. She normally doesn't, a kid that enjoys staring off into space and conjuring make-believe stories, where there's magic and only happy endings. You try and force a smile onto your face, "how's the house construction for Princess Peach going?"

Your daughter lets out a laugh as she presents to you a square that looks nothing like a house. Still, you coo at it, "so pretty! I bet princess peach would love it."

Your conversation with Atsumu has to wait until Sakura is tucked away in her uncle's bedroom and has listened to three stories about princesses, before you manage to join him back onto the couch where he's busy watching a rerun of volleyball matches.

You don't get to see him much now, courtesy of the fact that he's a national athlete and has been booked at the big games representing Japan. You couldn't be prouder, and yet his permanent absence does still leave a big hole in your heart whenever he flies over a thousand miles. Atsumu had been your rock since you guys were kids, defending you on the school playground and dragging you around to parties and birthdays without your consent. He'd taken care of you as a big brother would and he still is. You don't know how to repay this kind of kindness.

You're just thankful that he has one week off so that you can rant and ramble about the unfairness of the world. At least with Atsumu here, it appeases the pain, if just a little.

"Have you signed the papers yet?" he asks, handing you the bowl of popcorn.

You grab a handful, popping onto of them into your mouth as you answer, "not yet."

"You should ask him for alimony, at least."

"I'm not sure I'd win that, 'Tsumu."

"Still," his nose wrinkles in distaste, "this feels unfair. And why are you the one taking care of Sakura on your own? And I don't mean the parenting part. What about the finances? Why can't he contribute?"

"Because he's a dick and he thinks he can get away with it," you're glad that the tv is providing a welcome distraction, for you can't bear to look into Atsumu's eyes, "I'm just going to sign it and be done with it. I don't want Sakura to suffer any longer. It's not fair on her, she barely sees him."

"Well maybe it's time you find someone else too, y/n."

Your thoughts suddenly flash to Kuroo's beautiful smile and you have to physically force yourself to keep from grinning. You can feel the heat from the back of your neck and come up with the excuse that it's still too early and that Sakura wouldn't like her world shattering just for your happiness.

But it seems that Atsumu knows you better than that, for he asks, "are you blushing?"

"Wha--" Panic skitters through you, "no. No, why would I blush?"

His eyebrows raise, "you’ve met someone then?"

"N--No. Not at all. It's--" you realize you're blundering when his smile widens slightly, "it's not like that."

"So who's the lucky guy?"

"Atsumu."

"Y/N," his eyes glisten with playfulness and he nudges your shoulder, "c'mon. Tell me!"

You let out another breath and mumble, "He’'s not someone I met. He's...Just someone I know."

"And how do you know him?"

"He's Sakura's PE coach."

Atsumu lets out a whistle, "well that--" he shakes his head, "--that's not what I imagined at all."

"Shut up."

"So you like him?"

"It's not--It's really not like that. I--" you try and rack your brain for anything to say because this is really embarrassing. Who has a crush at the age of twenty-nine? Practically all of your friends are already married and have kids, talk about husband problems and how they wish for their youth back. And you? Here you are, thinking you might have a crush. You're no better than a middle school girl.

Which is why you say, "I don't even know him."

"You just think he's cute?"

"Precisely. But there are a lot of cute guys. It doesn't mean anything."

“Right,” Atsumu lets out a breath before he leans back into the couch, “but you know what I think?”

You hum in response.

“I think you should get laid—“

You almost spit out your wine in shock, gape at him in horror, “Atsumu!”

Again, your brain goes into overdrive at the thought of Kuroo and his sweaty chest, the breadth of his shoulders, the way he just towers over your small frame…

NO! You slam onto your mental brakes and shake your head, “you’re disgusting.” You spit out.

“I’m telling the truth princess. I really believe in the power of s—“

“Don’t—“ you cut him off with a raised palm, “don’t even say it.”

“So tell me,” Atsumu proceeds to wriggle his brows suggestively which makes it even harder to stop the blush igniting along your face, “this guy, how handsome is he? Must be pretty good-looking for you to be blushing like that.”

“Shut up ‘Tsumu, it’s not like that at all. Just stop. He's like--half of my age."

“Alright alright,” he laughs his deep-bellied laughter and wraps an arm around you in a gentle, comforting hug, “but if ever you do get lais with him, you gotta tell me.”

“Mum, what does ‘getting laid’ mean?”

“Oh!” Your head snaps to the doorway only to see your daughter all sleepy-eyed and clutching a spare pillow.

“Sakura!” You scramble to over, casting your cousin a scowl as you do, “c’mon, sweetie. Let’s get you back to bed.”

You hear Atsumu’s laughter follow you all the way to the bedroom.

————

It’s weird when Sakura isn’t around.

It’s almost like you’ve lost your purpose. But then again, you should be taking advantage of this right? That’s what everyone keeps telling you.

But alas, something in you cannot just let yourself rest for fear that your thoughts may go into a black hole of what ifs and images of Sakura with your ex-husband’s wife —well, almost ex-husband— and thus decide to take on a last-minute order.

It’s a simple enough request— a birthday cake. While you usually plan events from A to Z, this order merely requested a cake of any kind. So that’s how you spend your Saturday morning — creating a dough and sugar decorations that would fit into the theme of “Halloween”, as per what your client has asked.

You drive up to the pin location around four in the afternoon, strolling through the streets until the google maps signals you that you’ve arrived to your destination. Turning off the ignition at the said house — a beautiful Victorian home adorned with columns twice your height and size — you open your door only to come face to face with a familiar pair of golden eyes.

“Coach?”

“Kosuke-san?”

You both stare. And stare.

It’s shock that comes first. Before realization slaps you in the face, “oh!” You quickly bow in hopes that you haven’t been staring too long, “good afternoon, Coach. What—What brings you here?”

"Kosuke-san," he bows and looks just as surprised as you are, before he notices the way you're struggling to juggle to cake in your arms, "here, let me help you."

Without hesitation, he opens the door a bit wider and closes the gap between you, lifting the box from your arms, "jeez how heavy is this thing?"

You let out a small laugh, "it's all the icing sugar."

"Come in," he gestures with his chin for you to follow and as you step into the threshold he continues, "so when you said you were an event planner--I didn't expect you to be a cake designer too."

"It's an extra service I provide," you shrug, "I'm a patissier by career. Event planning is just something that keeps the cash flowing."

Kuroo pauses in mid-step then, "you're a patissier?"

"Yeah. Well, I was," you chuckle, "but anyway, it's been a while since I've baked now. So I hope it's just as good as you expect it to be."

Kuroo opens his mouth only to be cut off by a horde of boys stumbling into what appears to be the kitchen area. Now that you have a better look, it's all white marble and golden taps and golden handles on every piece of furniture to match. In any case, this house screams of money and for a minute, you feel a bit small and insignificant in your stained-flour blouse, the splotches of paint across your faded out jeans, courtesy of Sakura's art skills.

"You must be y/n!" one of the boys detaches himself. His orange hair glistens in the sun streaming through the window and he's a bit shorter than Kuroo. He beams at you and you can't help but be reminded of a puppy, "thanks for taking my order on such a short notice!"

"No worries at all. You must be...Hinata?"

"Yes!" he shakes your hand, "so I see you've met Kuroo! He's one of my best mates! We used to play against each other back in high school."

"Really now?" you quirk a brow in Kuroo's direction, watching the muscles of his arms ripple as he places the cake in an orderly manner inside the fridge. His voice is muffled when he replies, "yeah, he's the midget that made us jump for our lives. I hated him."

"You're just sour because you lost that one time," Hinata pouts, "but anyway, this is the rest of the ex-team!"

And so that's how you get a round of names that you will probably forget in five minutes and Kuroo, having seen the confusion in your eyes, can't help but laugh to himself because the sight is somewhat adorable. And he knows he shouldn't find it, he knows you're off limits because first, you're a mom from the school and two, you're married and have a kid. It's definitely not at all appropriate for his eyes to be roaming over your curves or to linger over the light glittering in your eyes.

Get a hold of yourself, he mentally whacks the back of his head.

“Where’s the little munchkin?” Kuroo asks you once you’re all settled after having been wheedled by Hinata to stay (“please please please you did such a great job on the cake” is what he’d begged). You’re now perched onto a plush lounge chair, a mixture of juice and vodka in your hand and watching the nth match of pingpong between someone whose name you forget and the other whose name sounds like Daichi. Though yoj might be wrong.

You’re glad for Kuroo’s presence, for even if he is a stranger, he still feels familiar to you right now in this setting.

“Sakura’s with her father today,” you explain with a slight smile in hopes it doesn’t give any of that bitterness away.

Kuroo opens his mouth like he wants so say something — anything— but you beat him to it, “we’re not together. Not anymore.”

His eyes widen with realization and you see it, the way he’s putting all the puzzle pieces together, “I’m sorry to hear,” is what he finally musters.

“Nothing be to be sorry about.”

“So… the name Kosuke…”

“Is my maiden name,” you reply, “I’ve never changed names. Looking back, I think I’ve done the right thing.”

Kuroo isn’t sure whether he should be mad for you or hurt in your place. After all, who in their right mind would leave their wife and their toddler daughter?

He deals with little kids every day, so he knows exactly what they’re like on a daily basis, and it’s not easy.

“I’m sorry,” it seems that’s the only thing he knows how to say.

“Really,” you laugh at him, “how can you be sorry when it’s not even your fault?”

Kuroo shrugs and grins bashfully because yes, it’s true and he still doesn’t know what to say. So he decides to ask, “And Sakura… how is she?”

“She doesn’t realize it. She’s too young,” your smile fades slightly, “in a way, I hope that’s a good sign.”

His heart clenches at the thought of you raising this kid alone. He can’t even imagine it. It makes sympathy swim inside his chest like an ache he can’t quite ignore. The look on your face suggests that you’ve been let down and he has the sudden impulse to tell you that everything will be alright, will be okay.

But he can’t do that. You’ll think of him as a creep. So he bites his tongue and look away instead, at the war of pingpong ongoing between his two friends. In a way, he’s glad for the distraction as he sips on his beer.

“And you?” Your voice piping up surprises him. His eyes flit back to your face. You continue, “married? Engaged?”

Kuroo’s throat bobs as he chuckles, “no. None of that.”

“How come?” You take a sip of your cocktail, “you don’t seem like the type to wound up alone with a hundred cats.”

“No no,” he can’t help but laugh because one, you’re hella attractive to him; tiny and frail and looking like he can fit you in a box no problem and two; you’re actually entertaining to be around. Something that he’s found lacking in his previous dates, “I just didn’t find anyone special yet.”

“Well there's no rush,” you lift your cocktail as you speak, “and anyway, you’re still young. You should enjoy it while you can.”

“Young?” Kuroo’s face breaks into a grin as his golden orbs glimmer down at you, amused, “how old do you think I am?”

"Uhm--I don't know. Early twenties?"

"I'm twenty-five," he gives you a look, "how old are you?"

"Twenty-eight. Going on twenty-nine."

"You look like you've just gotten out of college though," Kuroo's smirk is visible even behind his beer as he chugs down most of his drink, "if I didn't know better, I'd say you and Sakura were sisters."

"Not even," you retort, "And excuse me, but you look younger than twenty-five."

"I make up for it in height," he peers down at you, "but I suppose you wouldn't understand that considering--"

Your arm whacks at his shoulder before you know it. A playful gesture surely, but one that you don't really use on your daughter's teachers. Let alone ones that have bulging muscles and a figure to die for. You stare at your hand for a long minute, your brain going blank, before your eyes whip up to his and horror seeps into your gaze.

"Oh my god!" you screech and recoil like he's the one that had slapped you, "I'm so sorry, I--It's just--automatic you know, my cousin--he's got the same humor and--well I--I'm really sorry--"

The guffaw that leaves Kuroo's mouth is so loud that it causes heads to turn, even the ones invested in the ping pong game. He bends over while holding his stomach and the initial panic that you have wears off upon seeing him look so joyously happy. You can't help but chuckle along.

"What?" you say when he's regained most of his breath, "what's so funny?"

"You are," he grins, before it turns mischievous, "senpai."

"Hey--now that's going a bit too far!"

You're not quite sure what time you get home that night. But you do know that you've gone to sleep with a smile on your face.

————

"Kuroo sensei! He stole my ball!"

A typical Monday morning where Kuroo is busy surveilling the fifth graders as they decided to play basketball during their free time. He's not one to deny such requests, actually enjoys watching them play and seeing them grow day by day, developing their techniques. But to say that he's a bit in the clouds would be an understatement.

"Kuroo sensei!"

He finally snaps back to reality. Blinks down at the tiny boy with the biggest scowl he's ever seen yet, "yes I'm sorry. What's wrong?"

"He stole my ball!" the young boy points at one of the chubby classmates who seems quite content in playing by himself, "and now he's saying that it was his!"

Kuroo can't help but raise a brow. He's taught that class before, knows exactly that the chubby little kid doesn't have that many friends, including the boy standing before him.

"I don't think he stole your ball."

It's a bold statement, but from the way the tiny student squirms and averts his gaze, Kuroo believes he is right, "but--but he did! He really did steal my ball!"

"I have an idea," Kuroo bends down to his height, not able to restrain the grin along his face at the pout forming on the student's lips, "why don't you go and play with him? He seems a bit lonely."

"Yeah that's because he never talks to anyone in class."

"Then why don't you be the first? hm?" he nudges the boy's shoulder, "show your class a good example. Come on."

With a bit more reassurance, the said student goes over and Kuroo watches fondly as the two exchange awkward greetings before the chubby student nods his head, glancing at his PE coach like he'd just dropped a bomb.

Five minutes later, they're playing together like best friends.

And Kuroo goes back to daydreaming.

He's not usually like this. So out of it, so inside his own head that he can't see the outside world. But ever since that party he's been wondering when's the next time he'd get to see you, to talk to you. Not just as Sakura's mum but as someone, maybe a friend. He's addicted to the way your eyes curve up before your lips are even drawn into a smile, like you're sharing a special secret with him before the world gets a flash of blinding white teeth. He enjoys watching you move about because you're just so tiny, holding cups with two hands and always having to tiptoe about to find stuff. But most of all, that conversation with you had him dreaming of more. He wants to know you, that initial curiosity turning to what he'd define as stupid infatuation.

Yes, Kuroo Tetsurou has a crush, and he's not quite sure how to feel about it.

"--Earth to Kuroo?"

He blinks. In front of him stands his colleague and friend Bokuto. Having faced each other off countlessly during their high school days, it was a miracle and lovely surprise to see him at the new year induction. Since then, they’d been a constant pair inside the school walls and creating assignments, organizing and coordinating events had never been so fun.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and rubs a hand over his face.

“You look like death, mate,” Bokuto leans on the fencing that separates the courts from the building, “why the long face?”

“Haven’t slept well,” Kuroo says, but he knows he’s not convincing when Bokuto’s eyebrows raise in question.

“You? Firm believer of 10hrs of sleep every day?” His friend shakes his head, “no way. Tell me what happened. What’s got you looking so dazed?”

“It’s noth—“ he halts. Maybe he can find some advice? Bokuto’s known for being a badass romantic after all. Maybe he can have something wise to say.

Like tell Kuroo you’re way out of his league and— what the hell is he even thinking, dating someone’s mom? Someone older than him, at that?

The words burst out of his mouth without warning:

“I think I like someone.”

Bokuto merely blinks. His face lights up, “well that explains it. Who?”

Kuroo’s arm swings to the back to scratch his neck, “it’s… one of the student’s mom’s.”

The last few words are said in a mumble, causing Bokuto to lean into his friend with a wide-eyed gaze, surprise flitting across his face when he realizes what Kuroo has just said.

“No,” the grey-haired man’s mouth turns into an “o” as he stares his friend down, “no way. Who?”

“I don’t think you know her. Sakura Kosuke?” Kuroo prompts.

“Sakura Kosuke…” Bokuto shakes his head in thought, “haven’t heard of that one. But—-Kuroo! I thought older women weren’t your style!”

“She’s not that old,” Kuroo’s face flames, “only by three years.”

"Who would've thought," Bokuto breathes out with a chuckle when a thought suddenly occurs to him, "wait-- it's not the chick who came by with the cake last weekend?"

Kuroo nods and awkwardly clears his throat, "yeah, the very same."

"Ha! If only I knew! I would've done my best to set you up!"

"It's not funny!"

But now that Bokuto has some leverage of information, he's definitely not going to let it go and Kuroo kind of regrets spilling the beans to him, of all people. That, and the probably fact that he’ll be spreading this news like wildfire across their friend group.

Thankfully, Kuroo’s schedule makes it that it’s hard to think about anything but work since midterm season is approaching for his other primary school colleagues. There’s after-school shows and events for every single activity and since he’s being asked to help for every single thing (because he’s the preschool teacher and, yeah! How come you don’t have any events planned for your preschoolers?!). Which means that he doesn’t have actual time to think about you, not even when he’s finally home and mustering up enough strength to brush his teeth, take a shower and dump himself in bed.

He does, however, collide head-first into you one week day as you’re hurrying out of the principal’s office, looking flustered and red-faced.

“Kosuke-san,” he takes a longing glance your rosy cheeks and felt his hand tingle with want. Just to see if it’s as soft as he imagines it to be? “You okay?”

“Kuroo sensei,” you run a hand through your locks and causing your hair to get even more disheveled, “hi, sorry— how are you? It’s been a while.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” You’re looking a bit more greenish now that he sees you in the light.

“Yes I—“ your hands flutter up before you in an attempt to find an explanation, “—just came back from a meeting with Sakura’s teacher.”

“Oh?” Kuroo frowns, “what—nothing bad, I hope?”

“It’s just—well,” you try to chuckle but it comes out like a whimper, “apparently she got into a fight with one of the other girls in her class. Got a few injuries herself so…”

Your eyes are wet and it seems you’re half a second away from a breakdown. So it’s only natural for Kuroo to take a few steps closer to you before he whispers a soft, “hey hey, you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m sorry,” you take a shaky breath, “it’s just been a long, hard morning.”

“Yeah,” Kuroo bites onto his lower lip, not sure what to do to make things better as he watches your chest move up and down in staggered breaths.

That’s when an idea hits him. He makes a grab for the back of your elbow and the smallness, the thinness of your limb takes him be surprise as he steers you out of the corridor.

And when your wide eyes flutter up to his, he quickly says something along the lines of, “I know a place. It’ll make you feel better.”

That’s how he finds himself dragging you to the nearby coffee place he always frequents— called Espresso Block— a small vintage bakery run by none other than his good friend Osamu Miya, as part of his expansion branch from his onigiri restaurants.

"Y/N!" Osamu greets as soon as he spots your face trailing behind Kuroo's tall figure. He pushes the raven-haired man aside with impatience before sauntering over and wrapping you up in a bear hug.

"Osamu," you breathe in the scent of baked croissants lingering on his uniform, "you're choking me."

"Oh--sorry," he drops you and grins sheepishly, that is before he registers that you're together with one of his friends, causing his eyes to narrow, "how do you two know each other?"

"Kosuke-san is Sakura's mother and she was having a bad day," Kuroo explains before he turns to you, "how do you know him?"

Did you imagine the five-second frostiness that came from his tone? Maybe not, as you reply, "he's my cousin. We grew up together. I taught him how to play volleyball back in primary school."

Kuroo's relief is instant. Thank god, it's not a close friend, nor is it a romantic partner candidate. His mood brightens instantly and without further ado he proceeds to lead you towards a table in the back.

He doesn’t fail to ignore the way Osamu’s eyes are following him all the way back to his table as he carries the two drinks — strawberry latte for him and a black coffee for you — and Kuroo can just hope that his dear friend can keep his distance until you've gone.

Becayse he's quite certain he will be subject to interrogation. Especially if you're that close to Osamu.

Placing the tray on the table, he takes out the mug and pushes it into your hands before finding his seat opposite you. You grab the cup between your two palms and take a deep breath as Kuroo sips on his latte.

The sweetness of the strawberry never disappoints. It’s refreshing and brings a smile to his lips. Osamu sure knows his desserts.

“I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you seem to have composed yourself from earlier. You take a small sip of your coffee and Kuroo watches in amusement as you shudder.

"Do you want some milk with that?" he can't help but ask.

You nod and look shameful, and Kuroo's heart squeezes with sympathy. Your eyes are tinged with aprons of blue and there are tired lines lining your eyes and the corners of your mouth. It's only when he comes back -- from having gotten some steamed milk from Osamu and a suggestive wink to match -- you dip your head into a nod and mumble out a soft 'thanks', eyes glued to the way the dark brown turned into a creamy latte.

"You could've asked me for a latte," Kuroo smiled to show that he didn't mind at all. But you winced.

"I'm sorry--"

"Don't say sorry," he softened, "just--next time, you can tell me what you want, Kosuke-san. I'm not here to bite you...unless you want me to."

Your eyes flit up to his in surprise and Kuroo pinks at his words. They'd just slipped out on their own. It's not like he'd wanted to sound flirty when you're looking all shaky and worse for wear. He quickly clear his throat and tries to change the subject, "how are Sakura's injuries?"

"She's fine, got herself a bruised lip."

His eyebrows raise in surprise, "woah, that's still something."

"Yeah," you mutter and take another sip. And then another, "I hope this doesn't become a habit."

"I've taught Sakura since the start of this semester," Kuroo leans forward, elbows propped onto the table, "and I can tell you--she's anything but violent."

"I really hope you're right about this. I can't have her running around beating up everyone."

Kuroo stifled a small laugh, "to be honest, I think it's good she knows how to defend herself."

You shoot him a look and he can't help but laugh. And it's so contagious, the way it booms out of him like a melody, that you cannot restrain yourself from joining in.

"You're right," you say in-between chuckles.

"Maybe she got her mom's feisty spirit," Kuroo adds.

"No way. I was as silent as a mouse," you retort, "if she got anything like that, it's probably from her father's--"

You halt in mid-conversation, wanting to bite down your tongue for even mentioning him and quickly flash Kuroo a bashful smile in hopes he'll just brush it off, "sorry, let's not talk about him--"

"Kosuke-san, you really have to stop saying sorry all the time," Kuroo says with a grin, "it's not healthy."

"I know, I'm--" you catch yourself and he bursts out laughing once more at your face, "don't say it! No matter what!" he chides.

"Stop--" but you're grinning from ear to ear, cheeks flushed and eyes sparkling, "--Kuroo sensei, I hope you're not as playful with your students or they'd never learn anything from you."

"Course not," he winks, "I keep that solely for the pretty ladies."

His suggestive tone makes you blush despite it all and you look down at your coffee with the blush blazing so hard across your cheeks you swear everyone can see its colour from afar.

"I don't know how it is at home though," Kuroo's voice brings you out of your small bubble of warmth, "it must be tough handling Sakura all alone. Do you ever take a break?"

"Well, she goes to see her dad ever two weeks. But other than that, she's always with me unless my parents decide to come over. Which isn't as often as I would like."

"Why's that?"

"They live in the countryside and have a farm. It's hard for them to take days off, and I don't blame them not wanting to be around," your voice lowers to a mutter at the last few words, "especially after what happened with the marriage and all..."

"Marriages fail every time," Kuroo says gently then, "that too, isn't your fault."

"I wish my parents believed that," you let out a small laugh, "but they're right. We were too young to get married."

"But you have Sakura right? Isn't she worth it?"

His eyes, golden flecked and filled with so much hope and softness, meet yours from across the table. You suddenly feel a bit hot in your seat, wanting to squirm as you quickly look away from Kuroo's gaze because dear god, it's almost like he's ripping away, ripping apart every single layer of self-protection and preservation and reading you out like an open book.

"You're right," you clear your throat upon realizing he'd still been waiting for your response, "she is worth every single second. I wouldn't change anything about what happened. I just--I wish my parents could see it that way too."

"I think you spend a little too much time stressing about things you can't control," Kuroo takes another sip of his latte, "how about you learn to let go a bit? Maybe take the day off? Go hiking?"

"With Sakura?" you shake your head, "impossible, I--"

"Surely you have someone that can take care of her while you're gone," he tilts his head, jaw resting into one of his hands and making him appear all the more handsome.

Your thoughts flash to Atsumu. He's right, you could technically take a day off by dropping Sakura with the blonde. But she's not his responsibility and Atsumu has other priorities in his life rather than hang out with his niece. But Kuroo's persistence is strong and he makes you -- practically orders you -- to text him when he connects the dots that you two are also family.

"That guy can learn a thing or two about being responsible anyway," grins Kuroo, "so I'm sure he won't mind."

————

How did you end up here?

That's the question you keep asking yourself -- even when you're busy picking out your clothes only to realize that you barely have anything that's worth 'party material', even when you're attempting to do your makeup even though it's been almost three (or four?) years since you've tried to look your best because Sakura's wellbeing always came first.

Even when you're strapping up your black ankle boots, the question is getting drilled into your brain like a broken mixtape as you wonder whether this is a good idea after all.

"Go," Atsumu is firm when you call him for the nth time. It's five minutes until Kuroo's supposed to pick you up and feeling the pressure on your shoulders, you quickly decide to call your cousin in an emergency, "you have to do it, y/n. Stop making this all about Sakura. You need to be happy too."

"I am happy," was what you'd mumbled out in the phone receiver. You don't realize how tightly you're gripping the phone, so tight that your knuckles have turned white.

"I know you are, but you'll be happier if you live for yourself. At least for one night," Atsumu responds, "and Sakura's safe with me. And if ever there's an issue I'll call Osamu first to--"

"What?! No! No you call me first, okay?"

"Y/n please just relax. It's supposed to be a fun night."

You slump against the wall in defeat, "I don't even know why I'm doing this," you mumble mostly to yourself, though you're certain he can hear it too, "there's no point trying to prove that I'm content with my life. There are things that are going to leave me unsatisfied. I'm--I was fine with that, really."

"Are you though?" your cousin's voice is accusatory this time, "you're ready to live just for Sakura? Making her happy will make you happy too? Is this how it's supposed to work?"

"Technically yes, I'm her mother--"

"--And you've been left behind!"

The words are like a slap. You bite down onto your lower lip.

It draws blood.

You hiss, sucking on the skin as the metallic taste hits your tongue.

In truth, Atsumu has a point. You can't just live to make Sakura happy because that will ultimately destroy you. Not because she's not the only thing you need in your life. But because despite having your little girl being the center of your world, despite being able to sustain her with your career, you still feel like it's just yesterday when Aoi had upped and left you. His excuses, as pathetic as they had been, were arrows shooting straight into your heart. He left you crying into your pillow that night, hovering over your figure until you'd told him to 'get lost or I'll call the cops on you' before curling up on the small couch that you'd gotten rid of once he'd moved out for good.

So much pain. So much pain and haunted nights and obstacles that had come your way. That, along with caring for Sakura, had been a big hurdle. You remembered the long mornings, how hard it had been to drag yourself out of bed for the first few days. Atsumu had volunteered to stay with you then, giving you all the support you needed until you'd had enough strength to get back on your feet.

So he knew exactly what you'd gone through. Had seen it all first-hand. He wasn't kidding when he said you really needed to get laid. Somehow, he seems to have a valid point.

But it's been so long since you've left the dating scene that the thought of it makes you want to vomit.

"I'm sorry y/n, that wasn't cool." Atsumu's voice flows through the receiver like a lullaby and you take a deep, staggering breath, "I just--I know how hard it's been pulling your weight and caring for Sakura. It practically consumed your entire life. It's about time you get that motherfucker back for screwing things up--"

"Language," you tsk at him.

"You know what I mean," he replies impatiently, "So go out there, have fun. Get smashed. And at least do something to make you happy for a change. Alright?"

"Yeah okay," you mumble.

"And plus, you're with a bunch of guys that I know. They're cool. They'll keep an eye on you."

"Thanks mom."

"Anytime hun."

You can't help but giggle before you hear a car pulling up outside, "alright. I think my ride's here."

"Yeah, try to get laid okay--"

"Atsumu!" your cheeks flame, "I hope you're not saying all this in front of Sakura!"

A burst of laughter echoes from the receiver, "don't worry, miss Sakura is asleep. Have fun y/n! Take pictures!"

The drive there is less awkward than you'd imagined it to be, despite the fact that Kuroo's get-up does make your mouth salivate. And not just you. You realize a bunch of girls have him on their radar, from the stolen glances driven his way as you follow his broad back out of the parking and into the small terrace-looking entrance flanked by colored glowing palm trees.

"I haven't been in a club for like four years," you confess to him as you trudge into the queue. The air smells like cigarette and smoke. And something else. Something dangerous. It makes you giddy, you realize.

"Four years?" his eyes grow round as he looks down at you, "you have drunk before right? To the brink of passing out?"

"Like...maybe four years ago?"

His mouth opens, then closes. He shakes his head, a smile curving at the edges of his lips, "remind me not to drown you with tequila."

"I'll try my best."

You meet the rest of the gang upon stumbling into the club. It's dark and pulsating with music, with two dance floors separated by the DJ stationed on a platform right in the middle. Lights are bouncing off the space like crazy and all around you are moving bodies that writh and mold together until you're not sure where one ends and the other begins.

“Y/N! You’re here!” A drunk Hinata hooks an arm around your shoulder before steering you towards the bar, “you’re just in time! We were going for a round of lambos.”

“Lambos?” You balk and meet Kuroo’s eye, “you mean— Lamborgini’s?”

“Hell yeah!” Another one of the guys chimes in. It’s almost comical, the way they’re all stumbling against each other as you move like a congregation until you’re straight up in front of the barman.

“Ten Lambo’s please!” Hinata slams his card ontot he counter.

It brings back a wave of nostalgia, seeing the line of glasses and the way the bartender drops the alcohol in like he can do it with his eyes closed. You’re jostled and pressed against warm chests and shoulders, surrounded from all sides and yet, you feel safe with them all. That is, until you feel a soft brush against your elbow.

You turn to see Kuroo’s warm golden orbs.

“All okay?” He mouths to you.

You nod and give him a smile in return, and the grin that he cracks makes a troop of butterflies swoop into your stomach.

You look away just as Hinata thrusts a glass into your hands, “come y/n! This one’s on me!”

One shot becomes two. And two become three. Soon enough you find yourself on the dance floor and moving to the beat with one of the girls from the group— Yachi?— while the guys are trying to pay each other back their shots. The music vibrates through the floor up your body and flood your veins so that you get lost in it, ecstasy and the thrill of just being alive finally gushing through your brain, fogged up and amplified by the alcohol in your bloodstream.

It’s amazing. You feel free. Like nothing can stop you.

It’s honestly the best you’ve felt in a while.

After a while, you and Yachi decide to take a well-deserved break, stumbling over to the clustered seating space filled with red cushions as the boys scatter to find more alcohol. At this point you’re surprised that they’re still moving around and conscious, considering the amount they’ve drunk.

One of the boys— the one with the kind smile called Daichi— offers to get you guys some water as you take a seat, allowing your tired legs to take a break.

“I’m going to fine Hinata!” Yachi says into your ear and you nod before ushering her out of your way. There’s something between those two, a kind of tension that will develop into something more if they just allow it.

But you’re not one to meddle, not when your own love life’s a mess.

That’s when you notice.

It’s the lingering stare out of the corner of your peripheral that makes you turn your head.

Then you see him.

A tall, lanky man. He’s seated right opposite you, a drink in his hand and taking a swig. But there’s no mistake, for when his eyes meet yours across the room you can only jolt in shock.

You look away with embarrassment and disgust. Heat spreads to the back of your neck and goosebumps run up your arms. Suddenly, it’s a little too cold in this hot, sweaty club.

Why is he looking at you like that?

There’s no mistaking the intention. You risk one more glance and confirm that indeed, there’s a darkness in his eyes; the kind of a predator.

The kind that wants to strip you bare.

It’s unsetttling, unnerving.

Disgusting.

You don’t even hesitate. It’s like instinct for you jump off your seat with the only purpose to find Kuroo. But to your terror, the man starts to follow you. And soon enough it becomes a game of catch: of cat and mouse. You almost trip over your high heels as you push through the moving bodies as quickly as you can.

But the figure is there, hovering over you like a dark shadow that causes your heart to clench.

You bite back a whimper, pushing through a throng of girls as you frantically search for a sign of Kuroo’s familiar mop of hair. Or Hinata’s. Or just about anyone for that matter—

Bumping into a chest, you’re more than surprised as you let out a small yelp only to hear a familiar alto.

“Kosuke-san, everything alright?”

“K—Kuroo sensei,” your mumble is drowned in the beats of the music, eyes darting between his face and the dodgy man.

He’s now standing by the bar a few feet away from you. The same kind of withering stare that makes you wince.

Hurriedly, you turn to Kuroo and grip his shirt, wanting nothing more than to hide behind him, “I—uhm— there’s someone—“ the words jumble up as they pour out of your mouth and you find you can do nothing but grip his shirt for dear life, like Kuroo’s the only thing that can help you out of here.

Thankfully, he seems to understand your dilemma, for he puts a hand on your shoulder before steering you a little closer to him and away from the main path, a frown evident on his face, “what’s wrong Kosuke-san?”

But it’s only when he follows your fear-stricken eyes that Kuroo realizes there’s something — someone tormenting you. He recognizes the dark hunger, the prowling intent.

Instantly, his hand grips your waist. Tugs you closer.

You stumble into him, “Kuroo sensei—“

But Kuroo’s not having it. He stares the man down with a glower, longer body practically wrapped around yours in a protective embrace as he dares the man to do something, anything.

Try me, his eyes are saying, you’re not going to lay a single hand on her.

The stranger finally breaks eye contact after a few beats of silence and Kuroo keeps watch, golden eyes blazing until the man is nothing more but a memory of smoke as he disappears into the crowd.

Only then does he allow his hold to relax. Tilting down towards you. He murmurs out softly:

“He’s gone, Kosuke-san.”

You’re practically glued to him at this point, face buried in his chest and hands gripping so tightly onto his shirt that you might’ve grown claws. Kuroo nudges you gently once more, and that’s when you look up from the depths of his shirt.

The sight makes him almost coo because goddamnit even in the dim disco lights you look adorable. He has the sudden urge to pinch your cheeks and he’s glad his hands are somewhat occupied along your waist.

“You okay?” Is what he whispers.

You nod, looking a bit shaky and green int the face, “yeah—I’m—I’m fine. Thank you. He was—it scared me.”

“I know,” Kuroo draws away ever so slightly so he can have a better look at your face, “I’ll bring you home, alright?”

“No no it’s okay,” you shake your head and attempt a smile, but even Kuroo can see past those shaky lips, “you stay and have fun. I’ll call an Uber and—“

“Nonsense,” he grabs your elbow once more, “I’ll accompany you. C’mon.”

———

It’s definitely unnerving. It leaves you shaking with fear and you’re thankful for Kuroo’s strong grip on your arm as he maneuvers you out of the club.

The rush of cold wind hits your cheeks, leaving the soft beats of the club behind. Slowly, the world comes back into focus as the air rushes through your lungs and the sound bustling traffic in the distance is brought back into focus.

Only then do you realize how close you’re standing to the coach.

With a start, you stumble away with a muttered “sorry”, not daring to meet his eyes while quickly brushing off your clothes because dear god you weren’t sure what to do with your hands.

The uber arrives without much delay — thankfully — and the ride home is silent, almost as if there’s an awkward tension that has settled between the two of you. Away from the alcohol and now sobering up, it’s impossible to ignore the fact that you’d practically glued yourself to this man earlier. The act is so embarrassing you decidedly keep your gaze on the flurry of bustling streets and dim lamps flying by.

You don’t realize you’ve dozed off until a warm hand is shaking your shoulder, followed by a soft; “we’re here.”

You gasp, noticing that you’ve been pressed against Kuroo’s shoulder all this time.

“Oh,” you scramble away as quick as lightning, “I’m so sorry—“

His lips quirk upwards, “no harm done, senpai.”

You hate it when he calls you that. It makes you sound… old.

Nevertheless, you decide to be quiet as he accompanies you up to your flat, hands in his pockets while following you up the rusty stairs. You hope he’s not judging; it’s not like you have unlimited amounts of funding, what with Sakura’s education and activities.

“Well,” you finally reach the door to your flat and turn on your heel so that you face him, “thanks… for everything.”

"No problem," he's smiling down at you. Still so patient, still so happy to help. Your heart swells in your chest and you ask, "how are you getting back?"

"Oh, probably Uber..." he trails off, already turning away to fish his phone out of his pocket, "it's not far."

"Where do you live?"

You almost bawk when he tells you his address, because it's practically at the other end of town. He'll be there in forty-five minutes, at least.

The words are automatic, shooting out of you, "I'm so--"

But Kuroo's hand whips out, clamping over your lips. Your eyes widen as you look up at him, only to see the young man grinning like there's no tomorrow.

"You really need to stop doing that," he finally says before drawing back. Already, you're hit with the cold air following Kuroo's touch upon your skin, "I wanted to accompany you. There's nothing to apologize for."

"I know, but--"

He throws you another pointed look that has you clamping down on your mouth. You're about to say sorry once more because you're being a pathetic blubbery mess, but the look in his eyes makes you say a soft, "thank you" instead.

"You're welcome," and with one final grin and a wave to match, the school Coach disappears down the corridor, leaving you gazing at his broad back until his silhouette turns the corner and away from your sight.

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Hi hi! I came across your blog thanks to the kidnapping HCs and I must say I love your HCs!

If you don't mind me asking for some HCs... how would the vanilla game bachelor/ettes react when they find/learn that Farmer (they/them) is close to death's door in the mines after a bad argument with them (basically, the spouse and Farmer got into an argument (could be anything really!), and Farmer stormed out and went to the mines to blow off steam)? Farmer gets better of course, with some possible hurt/comfort please? 👀

Angst with comfort, yay! :D

Sure thing, thank you for your ask and have a great day! 🫰💕

_________________________________________

Penny sobbed the whole time by Farmer's hospital bed, where her spouse lay in bandages. The young teacher tearfully apologised, promising that she would no longer react so much to her spouse's gift of a mead bottle to her mother Pam. A huge torrent of words, which Farmer stopped by quietly saying that they were the ones who should apologise, for not thinking how Penny would react to such a gift to her mother, given her past with alcohol, and that they were a complete idiot for going into the Mines unarmed out of anger. After Farmer recovered from their wounds, Penny was afraid to broach the subject again until her spouse sat her down for a talk themself and, apologising again, resolved all concerns.

Despite his best efforts to remain calm and composed, Alex's courage cracked as he waited nervously outside the Clinic for the end of the surgery and the doctor's verdict. No matter how his grandparents and friends tried to reassure him, the athlete was nervous. It was all his fault, wasn't it? His lover wouldn't have gone off angry into those stupid Mines if he hadn't been such a stubborn ass. And Harvey didn't immediately answer if Farmer was going to be okay... Alex grabs his head and freaks out at the thought of the worst outcome. But luckily, Farmer survived and is on the mend already, and when the doctor and his assistant leave the room, leaving the couple alone, Alex falls to his knees and whimpers quietly, begging for forgiveness until Farmer's weak voice replies that it was their own fault and begs him to forgive them.

"Fucking- go wherever you want, I don't care!" Those words, those last words that Shane had thrown to Farmer in a fit of anger, echoed in his head as he ran towards the Mines, stumbling with exhaustion. Damn, what a fucking idiot he was... So many arguments, Farmer's tears on their cheeks as they left... Shane knew where his spouse had gone at this late hour and wanted to apologise for being such an ass. And saw them lying on the ground in the Mines... with Marlon standing beside them. "Get Harvey quickly, the kid needs help." Farmer had nearly died.... As Shane stood outside the clinic, recalling the last words he had said to his lover... He wouldn't forgive himself for that for a long time.

"What? Just like that?! Are you serious right now?" Leah's can't believe it: her partner just walked out, slamming the front door loudly. Went to Mines in the middle of the night, great... like a child, for Yoba's sake! And they've been there for over four hours. The artist is determined to bring them back home and solve their argument. Just when she was near the clinic, she saw Harvey and Marlon dragging her spouse's limp body to the building. "We found them in the Mines." All anger was gone in a flash, replaced by anxiety. Farmer's wounds were healing quickly, but Leah kept quietly calling them a fool, not leaving their room and holding their bandaged hand gently, trying not to cry.

Elliott refused to leave the clinic and sat next to Farmer's bed or in the lobby. Until Harvey or Maru gently send the writer, who has been without sleep for days, back home, promising that Farmer will be fine. He believes their words, but doesn't want to leave his lover. After being informed that Farmer was on the brink of life and death. After Elliott let Farmer walk away, heated over a stupid argument that is not worth anything now, in the dangerous Mines. He waited and watched Farmer go on the mend. He apologised to them a thousand times, and hugged his spouse tightly as they began to apologise to the writer for the dumb act that had nearly cost them their life and left a scar on Elliott's heart.

A loud, rumbling sound came from the cave in the Mines, and it made Abigail's heart freeze with terror. "Farmer!" Just a moment ago, standing not far from the Guild, she had been angrily cursing their over-cautiousness in not allowing her to join the adventure without proper protection. And now the purple-haired girl was hurrying back to the Mines, where Farmer, also heated from the argument, had left... forgetting to take their elixirs from wife. Abby found her partner covered in blood, barely crawling and ready to let out their last breath. With tears, she hastily pulled out a pink bottle and brought it to Farmer's lips so they could drink the elixir. The wounds began to heal slowly, thank Yoba, and Abigail sat on the cold ground, stroking the hair on her lover's head as they apologised to each other.

Farmer, lying on the cold ground, all covered with mud and their own blood, was already unconscious and did not hear Haley's scream, who caught her spouse near the Mines in such a state. Nor did they hear Marlon's voice as the old adventurer tried to soothe the sobbing girl and call Gil for help. Nor did they see her walking beside them all and shining a light on the two adventurers as they both dragged Farmer's body to the clinic. Nor heard poor Haley sobbing outside their room where she sat hiding her face in her hands and mouthed "this stupid argument, it was my fault, I'm sorry" over and over again. But Farmer did hear her joyful voice, and saw tears of happiness when she noticed that her spouse had finally opened their eyes after a week of coma.

Sebastian is smoking his third cigar, standing not far from the entrance to the clinic. A bad habit, he knows, but he needs some way to calm down while his half-sister Maru and Dr. Harvey perform emergency surgery on Farmer. The last conversation he had with Farmer echoed in his head: a small disagreement turned into shouting and they left. Left to cool off in Mines, then he found them, and... Sebastian smoked nervously, and begged Harvey and Maru to save his lover. Thankfully, the emo's pleas were answered and Farmer is fine. Although Harvey and Maru didn't let Sebby into the room (due to the smell of smoke), but relayed Farmer's words that they were apologising to Sebastian, causing him to nearly cry right there on the spot.

Almost every half hour Maru would step away from her counter into Farmer's room, inspecting their wounds, checking the medical devices they were hooked up to and asking if they needed anything. So throughout the week, almost forgetting everything in the world, including basic needs like eating and sleeping, she monitored her spouse's health, giving reports to Harvey and listening carefully to his verdict. To every attempt of Farmer to apologise to their wife for such a stupid act in anger, to go to the Mines over their recent quarrel, Maru gently hushed them and asked them to put this conversation aside for later, what mattered to her now was their health.

It's been three hours and Farmer hasn't returned Harvey's calls. The doctor must have made over 50 calls already, but no response from his spouse. Worse, Farmer went to the place that was the cause of the couple's recent heated argument - Mines, where they were constantly getting injured, which made Harvey worried for their life. Finally, at 51 rings, the mobile phone receiver was picked up.... But it wasn't Farmer's voice. "This is Marlon. Farmer-" He didn't hear anything further, and just on automatic, grabbed the first aid kit and bullet-rushed out of the hospital building towards the Mines. He performed the operation RIGHT THERE, for time was short, keeping his composure. By the time everyone calmed down and Farmer woke up in his clinic, Harvey's glasses would be wet with tears. He could have lost them...

It wasn't supposed to happen... Just a day ago, Emily and Farmer always found a solution to problems and arguments, there was always harmony and mutual understanding in the house, and now.... Now she sits at home, sad, and Farmer, overwhelmed with negative emotions, has gone somewhere. The heart of the blue-haired girl felt that it wasn't right for her to let Farmer go, and a call on the phone from Harvey in the middle of the night confirmed her fears. She was frightened and felt helpless when she saw the condition in which her beloved spouse had been brought to the operating table. Emily had asked Gus for a week and was staying with Farmer, who had woken up after a successful operation. They would live in harmony again, but the incident would forever be etched in Emily's memories.

"Hey, come on babe, just a little bit more and we've already made it to the clinic..." Considering that Farmer was unable to even stand, let alone respond to Sam's words, the musician was more saying it to himself, trying not to panic. "Our dear uncle doctor Harvey will patch you up in one moment and everything will be super-duper!" Though he tried to sound optimistic, his voice gave a shiver. "Everything's going to be great." Why did he have to be so stubborn? Why did he have to argue with Farmer to the point where they left the house to go to the stupid Mines? "Farmer, please... H- hang in there, we're almost there..." Sammy would be with Farmer every day at the clinic, never taking a step away from his spouse.

[ghostgirl-22]

OBSESSED with your stupid cockslut art!! Needy little baby too stupid to think about anything other than getting wrecked by his teammates…. The first time it happens…. They’re changing after training and the new kid - some handsome clearly gay guy - is flirting with art, leaning over him, putting his hands on arts chest, on his waist and Patrick’s being his typical jealous about it until he realises arts brain has completely turned off and he’s spacey and giggly and blushing and Patrick is immediately hard and like. Needs to explore this immediately actually. Drags art away and back to their room and arts so different to normal and Patrick just can’t help himself he has to fuck art immediately because as if he’d miss out on the chance to have him like this????

Ah yes…yes… I hear you anon…<3

So like Im taking it as the first time Patrick realizes that Art goes brainless or something like that (idk enjoy lol)

CW: 18+ !NSFW!

—-

It takes a little while for him to notice, if Patrick’s being honest. He’s not really paying attention at first. He’s joking with a couple of his teammates about how predictable one of their regular opponents serve is. They’re all laughing and out of the corner of his eye is when he sees it.

The new kid, Craig Reynolds, is also the only openly gay kid on the team. He’s this tall, handsome, conventionally attractive athlete from a rich family. That’s pretty much why he gets away with it, integrating seamlessly while taking little if any flack from his teammates.

He’s talking to Art, talking up close, the way Patrick might. Barely giving him any personal space. Art’s leaning with his back up against the lockers, half dressed, smiling at him. Letting him touch, letting him grip at his arm, at his waist.

“God, Craig wants to fuck him so bad,” One of Patrick’s buddies mutters when he notices Patrick staring.

“Put him in make up and a dress and I’d wanna fuck him too,” another teammate snorts and they both laugh.

Patrick feels his stomach do a somersault and he’s suddenly burning up with irritation. Of course Craig is into Art, it makes perfect sense. Art is the pretty boy blonde on the team with the perfect ass. What’s bothering him is the way Art is mirroring his attraction.

It’s the way Art’s leaning back, letting himself be played with. Eyes wide, posture submissive. Smiling the way girls do when someone really attractive is giving them attention. When Craig leans in to play with his hair and Art starts wetting his lips is when Patrick decides to interrupt.

He gets first dibs. He gets last dibs. He gets everything in between. “Hey so you wanna go?” He asks Art.

“Patrick, Craig said he can help me with my backhand,” Art says, he’s chewing bubble gum, always has something in his mouth. And Jesus Christ up close it’s even worse. Patrick can see his eyes are dilated and his cheeks are pinkening. If he had longer hair he’d be twirling it for him.

“Oh yeah?” Patrick glares at Craig.

Craig glances at Patrick, eyes filled with amusement before his gaze returns to Art. “I mean, whenever. If you want to come play with me Donaldson, you know where I live.” His eyes fall over Art’s body, his desire so fucking obvious.

“Okay but promise you won’t go easy on me?” Art says, softly. Flirting. It’s so silly and irritating. Patrick’s one step from grabbing him and dragging him away.

“Don’t worry, you’re strong,” Craig rubs Art’s bare chest, “I know you can take it.”

Art’s grinning now, like it’s funny. It’s so not funny.

“Can you go get dressed?” Patrick demands. “I want to get food before the cafeteria closes.”

Art blinks, “Oh yeah… um…” he stumbles forwards running into the bench and he bends over to rub his shin as Craig laughs.

“Careful pretty boy.”

“Shuddup,” Art says, playful. “Um… wait… where’s my bag?”

Patrick narrows his eyes, “where it always is?” He says, incredulous when Art looks around helpless. “Other side of the room. Under the bench,” He points. “Near your locker.”

“Oh yeah,” Art grins.

“I think your roommate likes boys,” Craig’s sing song voice sounds teasingly in Patrick’s ear as they watch Art make his way over to his bag. “But of course you already know that… you’re fucking him, aren’t you?”

Patrick raises his eyebrows, turning around to face him. “Did he—”

”He didn’t say anything but it takes one to know one. Everyone talks about you guys like you’re one entity and then of course you show up all jealous,” Craig smirks, bending over his bag on the bench. Patrick rolls his eyes.

Impressively, Art hasn’t even made it five feet without being distracted by another boy.

“This is his right?” Craig hands Patrick a razor phone that definitely belongs to Art.

“Yeah,” Patrick says. “Fuck.”

“Be careful with that, someone might steal it away from you.” Craig pats his arm. Patrick shrugs him off and follows Art to the other side of the locker room.

He’s no more dressed than he was a minute ago. Instead he’s like a little space cadet, straddling the bench and bouncing his thigh while the guys Patrick was chatting with earlier are teasing him about Craig.

“Do you have any more gum, Donaldson?” One of them asks, sitting across from him while idly rubbing Art’s thigh. It’s their teammate Tyler Fitzgerald, who everyone just calls Fitz. Art smirks and blows a bubble which Fitz pops with his finger.

“Someone gave it to me.” Art says, soft. Pretty little grin on his face as he licks all the gum back into his mouth. Someone’s always giving him something.

“I like how you blow bubbles. You wanna blow something else?” Fitz smirks, still rubbing Art’s thigh. “I don’t think Craigs is bigger than mine.”

Art leans back on his hands, still chewing, skin flushed. “You’re so gross,” he says, but he scoots his body closer and sticks his gum coated tongue out.

“Art,” Patrick sighs. Fitz glances up at him at the same time Art does, pulling his hands away from Art’s thighs and getting to his feet with a not so subtle wink in Art’s direction.

“Patrick I’m— I’m coming,” Art says. He reaches for his bag and then sits up straight patting his pockets. “Wait I can’t find my—my—”

Patrick pulls the silver razor phone out of his own pocket and hands it to Art. ”Oh wow. I- where did you—?”

”Don’t worry about it, come on,” Patrick interrupts. He’s anxious and not for food. He thinks he’s starting to understand what’s happening.

Art is so shy when girls flirt with him, but he’s absolutely ditzy when he’s taking Patrick’s cock. Maybe with Craig flirting and Fitz flirting, maybe just the thought of getting fucked has him in that same drunken silly state. Unable to focus on anything but the idea of getting filled. And suddenly Patrick’s jeans feel so much tighter.

“Come on,” Patrick holds out his hand and Art chews a little longer before he spits the gum out, gazing up at Patrick, lips parted, eyes dilated, pink tongue tracing the surface of his white teeth. Patrick thinks about fucking him right here… taking him in the bathroom stall just to get it out of his system. Everyone probably already fucking knows by now. Art reaches for Patrick’s zipper and Patrick barely stops him, stepping back to go throw the gum away. “Get dressed,” he says.

Craig smirks at him from across the locker room.

Art just barely manages to get his clothes on. Patrick has to help him collect his gear. He’s all over the place. A little bit of boy flirting and he’s a fucking mess. Teasing the whole time, desperate for Patrick’s attention… for his…

He barely gets Art home. They’re kissing in the elevator. Art is dizzy, grabbing at him. Climbing all over Patrick as soon as they get onto the bed. Hes such a fucking cock slut he’s moaning before Patrick even gets inside, he’s moaning just for the promise of it. Falls apart all over it. Doesn’t recover till they’re sweaty and breathless, covered in lube, spit and semen.

And then Art’s back to normal. It’s fascinating. The way he comes back down to earth with little or no recollection of the way he was acting in the locker room. They clean up and go to dinner and it’s Patrick’s turn to fall apart. Tripping over himself to open doors for him, pulling him closer where they sit in the cafeteria. Patrick’s practically on top of him, consuming all his time, his attention, all the food he wants but can’t finish. Art’s not even eating his dessert, just licking the icing off. Patrick’s asking him what he remembers still trying to understand this particular tick.

Art denies flirting, says he was just talking to Craig, says he would never cheat and or let another boy fuck him. “I mean, unless…” he shrugs licking the frosting off his spoon. “Unless you wanted me too.” He bites down on the spoon and gazes at Patrick.

Patrick stares back at him, he can’t help but to smirk. “Yeah, okay.” He says but his mind is screaming because whatever the fuck this is… he knows he wants it. It’s only a matter of time before Art gets hit on by another boy and Patrick decides he’ll just have to be there so he can do more research.

[likeadeuce]

for the backstory ask: all of your lily donaldson lore?

Art and Tashi (really, Tashi + Art) made a general master plan when they got married, for him to play until roughly 35 and then have 2 kids pretty close together so they wouldn't be trying to raise kids in a world of constant travel. Instead, Tashi has an unplanned pregnancy just as Art's career is peaking and surprises Art a bit by immediately stating she wants to keep the baby...he thought all her reasons for waiting were good reasons, but Tashi's had some thinks and (1) has gotten worried about fertility as she gets older due to family history and experiences of some women she knows (the practical reason that she tells him) (2) deep down the glamorous Eloise-style fantasy of a kiddo traveling the world and experiencing this lifestyle that Tashi can't admit to herself how much she enjoys (the emotional reason that she can't admit to anyone) and it's not that Art doesn't WANT a child at this point in his life it's that when I told Tashi that of course it was her body and her choice, he wasn't actually prepared for the choice she made because it was very much not the life plan he thought they made. He doesn't express any of this to Tashi but she guesses more or less correctly.

Lily's given name is Lily Anne Duncan Donaldson, for Art's grandmother Lillian + Tashi's mother Annette, which was Tashi's suggestion but Art likes it.

Annette was an elementary ed teacher who was working as a school administrator until Lily was born + then she took early retirement to travel with the family and, while they have some nannies and tutors who come and go (the teenage babysitter in Qualifying is a student who went through through the Donaldson Foundation tennis camps and is getting paid to fill in gaps in the schedule + also has her lodging and various events paid for so she can experience the US Open) Annette is primarily in charge of Lily's care and education. Her sixth birthday is going to be in November and the plan is for her to stay with them on the road through NEXT summer/ her kindergarten year but then start first grade where she can stay with the Duncans and go to school with other kids her own age (Annette + Tashi do a lot of work to get her social time with other kids whose parents travel but they don't think it's going to be enough as she grows up + Tashi has this plan figured out but Art -- despite being the demonstrably less involved parent + also not having talked to ANYONE about this -- does not like the idea of regularly being away from his kid for months at a time, which is part of what is dragging him toward retirement). Art's time with Lily is a lot if 'taking her to the zoo' (does not have to literally be the zoo) which is code for 'I need to get away from all thd ppl who run my life and nobody can get mad about it because I'm being a Good Dad.' In fairness to him, he and Lily legitimately have a good time one on one, and Art may actually a bit better at 'empathy for lonely kids and respect for their personhood' (there's a bit of this in 'close your eyes') he just isn't going to exercise it when there's someone else there second guessing him.

About Lily herself, I think she's a pretty confident kid who's used to being the center of attention but also has a little too much of the precocious child who puts on a big personality for adults because she's mostly around adults. She has been known to declare tennis boring and stupid, and both parents are a bit scared of pushing her into a Sports childhood, but she likes gymnastics and dancing and Tashi can't help pointing out thst she's obviously naturally athletic which she is ready to leap on whenever LILY says it's HER idea. Also, as Patrick observes in 'Qualifying, ' she's actually a bit besotted by the idea of Mommy and Daddy playing together.

Thanks for this one!

Still taking asks in the inbox

[dame-zoom-a-lot]

snippet of art by @waldos-art

Ch1

Batteries Not Included Ch2: Anger

But Dame, you said you'd update every Thursday you may say.

And... yes. It is Wednesday. But have you considered that time is an illusion.

Anyway, here's ch2 of Batteries Not Included, expertly beta-ed by @fkinkindagauche who also wrote an extremely heartfelt, cute, assholish Billy fic Might Tell You Tonight. It might be a good palate cleanser after this chapter.

Major tags: Explicitly racist, violent asshole Billy Hargrove, Graphic depictions of people getting telepathically twisted into a pretzel

---

The kids name her El after the number eleven tattooed on her wrist.

Steve gets used to her slowly, the way she silently trails him around the house when she's hungry, the tiny frown she makes when she genuinely doesn't like something, even the way she stares at him when he's home, unblinking, as if she's scared he might disappear the moment she takes her eyes off him.

She can read. He borrows a bunch of books and kid shows from the library and buys some coloring books from a yard sale. He hopes it's helping with her vocabulary. She's not a chatterbox, not like the other kids, but she's responding with five to six words per question now. Sometimes she even talks first, mostly to ask for more Eggos. The kids seem to help too, by coming over. Every. Single. Day.

He should hate it in theory. The noise. The messy stack of spell books Mike and Lucas bring over. The way his dining table is covered in all their nerd game stuff. The way his social life craters because they need to keep El hidden. The many slap fights between Mike and Max he's had to break up, and they're all about the stupidest shit too.

He should at least hate that they've dragged him to the mall and then the arcade under the guise of getting El some proper clothes. He's paying money to babysit now.

Theoretically, he's also risking his life, letting El go out and about like this. He's still not sure who this 'bad man' might be, and whether they're still looking for her. But he can't just keep her cooped up in his house, not when it looks like she literally dug her way to freedom.

Besides, he loves this, loves seeing them get to act their age.

Steve sits at a booth, keeping an eye on the kids. El is wearing a blond wig Mike got out of Nancy's closet, and a pink princess dress Max made Steve buy for her (plus a dozen others). She's completed the look with heart shaped sunglasses that match Max's.

El and Mike are shooting some blobs of things in one corner. Fortunately, Mike is pretty good at the game, or Steve would have had to shell out even more quarters. Lucas and Max are shooting hoops at the basketball game. Max is surprisingly bad considering how athletic she is in general. Lucas manages to get a decent score despite his terrible form. Steve wonders if Lucas would ever be interested in actually learning basketball.

Max throws up her hands and stomps off to a different game. He waves at her to remind her to stay within sight. She flips him off but chooses some other shooting thing close by. Lucas jogs over and sits across from him with a heavy sigh, sinking into his seat the way Nancy's dad sinks into his La-Z-Boy. Steve suppresses a snigger.

"What's eating you?" he asks.

"That stupid game. It's rigged!" Lucas sputters. "How does anyone get any of the balls through that hoop? It's so far away!"

"So play something else?" Steve suggests. "I thought you liked those alien shooting games."

Lucas groans and sinks even lower in his seat until only the tip of his head is visible. "Yeah, but I want the prize," he mutters.

"What prize?"

"The board… I… I want to win the board," Lucas says, still refusing to surface.

Oh.

He thought the kids would be too young for this.

"Why don't I just win it for you?" Steve prods.

"No! I want… I want…" Lucas surfaces and grabs Steve's milkshake. He doesn't drink from it though. He's got some manners, unlike two assholes he could name. Just plays with the straw. "I want to win it myself…"

"Look, Lucas," Steve gently pushes the dessert towards Lucas as a silent permission. Lucas gulps the milkshake down greedily. "If you want to win it for Max, that's cool. She'd like that. I can help you get better at that game. You were already pretty close."

"Really?" Lucas asks through a milkshake-stained smile.

"But Lucas," Steve says, "that's not how you get girls."

"It's not?" Lucas asks, horrified. He catches himself. "Not that I'm trying to get girls. Eww."

"Yeah? Well, good," Steve says, ruffling his hair. "You're way too young to get your heart broken."

Lucas shrugs and plays with the straw some more. There's a long pause. "So theoretically," he finally says, trying to sound casual, "if I were trying to get a girl… what should I do?"

"Ignore her," Steve says flatly. "Girls dig that shit. Pretend you don't care at all."

Lucas flinches. "But what if you can't ignore her?" He looks down at the ground, swinging his short legs. "What if you're best friends? And she's really fun? And good at all your games? And she really wants that new board?"

"Then… I guess you don't get the girl," Steve says ruefully. "Friends don't… you know. It doesn't work that way."

"Weren't you friends with Nancy?" Lucas asks into the table.

Steve freezes. They were. Not before they started dating, but certainly after. He remembers the day his months of conveniently situating himself and paying special attention to his hair finally paid off. The day she finally laughed at something cheesy he said and agreed to walk to class together. He thought he'd have a few fun dates. He thought it'd be fun to have a hot valedictorian on his arm for the school dance. But they kept talking. And before he knew it, he'd been happily dating the same girl for nearly a year. Passed love notes in lockers. Got under the bleachers to actually gossip, not to just make out. He met her parents. Sat down and talked to them about how much he liked their little girl. They told each other stuff that he'd never told anyone else before. Not even Tommy.

It was a stupid fucking thing to do. All it did was make the inevitable heartbreak worse. There's a constant ache, like he lost a limb. He'll occasionally see or read something and get excited because he's got to tell Nancy before remembering… right. He's a piece of shit and she dumped him.

He can't let that happen to one of his kids.

"Kind of? That's probably why it didn't work out," Steve admits.

"Oh…" Lucas looks away. He chews the straw and thinks. "I want to win that board anyway," he says eventually.

"Alright!" Steve gets up, trying to get them both pumped up. Learning basketball would be a good thing. It'll get Lucas to meet someone that's not his friend when he's ready for dating and all the other stuff, far far away in the future. He slaps the table and motions for Lucas to follow him. He spends the rest of their arcade time showing Lucas how to throw, how to flick his wrist just right so it looks cool and helps with aim. Soon, the other kids sneak over for some basketball lessons, and the four of them actually manage to win the board with barely any help from Steve. Lucas beams like he just got a present when he hands the board to Max.

~~~~

Obviously, they can't just stop with the arcade. He's got to serve them dinner too. So Steve drives them back to his place after making them all promise, on their favorite toys, that they will let Steve drive them back home with zero complaints if he feeds them. He putters about the kitchen, throwing together the one pasta dish he knows how to make. Honestly, he's a little pleased that they want to have dinner with him. He's pretty sure even El could have gone over to Mike's for a proper, real dinner. But they want to make sure Steve is at the table with them.

It makes him feel like… he matters.

It makes him feel like the world's biggest loser.

What is he doing, letting a bunch of nine-year-olds do whatever they want like this? He's pretty sure he kidnapped El. Fuck knows he'd die before he gives her up, not to whomever made her afraid to ask for food. But he did very much kidnap her. He's not sure he hasn't accidentally kidnapped the other brats. He hasn't asked any of them if they told their parents where they are.

He really should ask. But it might turn out that they didn't tell their parents. Then he'd have to insist that they come clean. Then their parents would make them stop doing stupid shit like hanging out with some high school loser and the orphan he kidnapped.

He doesn't want to lose this—a house full of people that just let him exist, full of people that like him for things he can do, not the things he has.

It's a shame that those people are a bunch of bratty nine-year-olds, but he's not in the mood to be picky.

The kids bustle about, attempting to help by setting the table badly. Max is the only one with any idea what she's doing. Steve grabs some pre-made sauce from the fridge and puts that on the stove to warm when…

A thin red string from a tracking spell shimmers into the house and latches itself onto Max's chest. She screams. El screams. Mike and Lucas scream.

Steve turns off the stove. "Max?" he asks uncertainly.

"It's Billy, my brother," Max says, horrified. "He's looking for me."

"Billy… Hargrove?" Steve asks. He wastes precious minutes peering at Max, trying to find any family resemblance between her and Hargrove, the unreasonably hot asshole sorcerer from California who's been doing his best to make Steve's life hell. They look nothing like each other. "I thought your last name is Mayfield?"

"He's my mom's husband's son," Max says, rapid-fire. "He can't see me here!"

Shit. So at least Max hasn't told her parents. Steve paces around. This is going to look really bad. Him and a bunch of children here behind their parents' backs.

"Hide," Steve says, "I'll take care of this." He sighs and walks out the door. At least it's just Billy Hargrove. Not the 'bad men' El keeps warning him about.

Steve gets out and closes the front door behind him. He leans against the frame and watches Hargrove's Camaro slide into his driveway. The search string is still strong, but it's starting to fade. Hargrove steps out with a cigarette between his pert lips. He's still shining a deep ocean blue with the magic aura left over from the spell he cast. It's unfair how every single thing about him just makes him look hotter. Of course his aura makes him look like a sexy mercreature. No wonder all the girls are losing their collective shits.

"What are you doing here?" Steve asks. He steps forward, not too much. Hargrove is not above a sucker punch.

"You waiting for me amigo?" Billy asks with his manic smile. There's a start of a bruise on his right cheek.

"Not every day that someone comes all the way over to my house because they're pissy about not making the team," Steve says smoothly. "Coach told you. You're a penalty magnet. That's not how we play here." He's saying nonsense, trying to buy time. The search string is much thinner now. Barely visible. The kids should be smart enough to figure out a good hiding spot.

"I'm not here about the stupid team Harrington." Billy steps right into Steve's space. Any closer, and he'd burn him on the cigarette he's still holding between his red lips. "I'm looking for my sister."

"You have a sister?" Steve asks. He shifts his feet. Plants them.

"Small? Red head? Bit of a bitch?" Hargrove stares.

"Doesn't ring a bell. Sorry buddy," Steve says. The search spell is down to a shimmer.

Hargrove grimaces, frowns, talks with his hands. "You know Harrington… this whole situation. I don't know… It's giving me the heebie jeebies."

Steve was always a terrible liar. He can tell he's avoiding Billy's eyes. "Oh yeah? Why is that?"

"My nine-year-old sister goes missing all day. Then I find her in your house. Hawkins' most eligible bachelor. Then you lie to me about it."

Steve scoffs to mask just how much trouble he's having with eye contact. "Man, were you dropped too much as a kid or what?"

Hargrove grins and exhales enough smoke at him to kill a canary. He does this thing with his tongue, licks around the cigarette, bares his teeth.

"You don't seem to understand what I just said. She's not here." Steve says slowly.

"Then who's that?" Billy points behind him.

Steve looks back at a glass section of his front door. There's a flash of three heads. Those idiots were supposed to be hiding! At least El had the good sense to not peek out of a glass panel.

"Ah shit, listen," Steve starts, not sure where he's heading. But Billy doesn't give him the chance to say something stupid. There's a hand on his chest. Then a hard push. Steve eats dirt.

"I told you to plant your feet," Billy says. He kicks hard. Something breaks.

~~~~~~~~

Billy stomps to the Harrington's fancy-ass front door and kicks it open. The kids—Max, Sinclair, Wheeler—gape at him, terrified. His face throbs where Neil hit him.

"I told you to stay away from him," Billy tells Max.

"Billy. Leave us alone," Max quavers. She stands her ground and squares her bony shoulders the best she can. Sinclair just stands there. Neil is going to lose his shit if he finds out Max is hanging out with a black kid. Then he'll blame Billy. Then he'll move them somewhere even hicker than Hawkins.

"You disobeyed me," Billy says, leaning low. She doesn't back up. "And you know what happens when you disobey me." He pushes her a little, but she plants her tiny feet better than Harrington. "I break things." She stares at him, defiant.

Billy suddenly turns and grabs the Sinclair kid. Pushes him into a wall with fancy paneling and wallpaper. He won't hurt him. He's not Neil. But he's going to give the little runt a good scare. Keep him away from Max. Then she'll see what Neil meant. Can't trust these people.

Billy pushes Sinclair harder into the wall. It won't take much to scare him off. "Stay away from her," he says. The kid shakes his head and starts struggling. Billy pushes a little harder "Stay away from her."

"Fuck you!" There's a sharp little foot right up against his balls. He hears himself make a mortifying noise as he bowls over. Sinclair scrambles away. Wheeler and Max jump to get in front of him, and the three toddlers tussle trying to get in front of the other. He feels like a monster.

What's new?

"You're dead Sinclair!" Billy roars out.

A rough hand wheels him around. "No. You're dead."

The last thing Billy sees before stumbling into the same wall he was just pushing Sinclair into is Harrington's furious face and his fist. He spins around and scrambles away from the wall. No need to get cornered. To his own surprise, he laughs.

Harrington stares at him. He's pretty when he's confused. And he's confused a lot. There's just elevator music playing in that coiffed head. Who knew Harrington had that fight in him? Billy spits out the blood pooling in his mouth and laughs again. "So there's the King Steve everyone's been telling me about!" Billy crows. He steps into Harrington's space. To his credit, he doesn't step back. "I see you have some fight in you."

"Get out." Steve pushes at Billy's chest with just two fingers. That's when he knows he's going to win. Steve might be a little faster. But he doesn't know how to fight dirty, how to hit with conviction. Billy laughs some more. Crowds Steve. Then the wily fucker finally starts to throw hands. A hook to his right. Another hook to the left. Jesus. Does he know how to throw anything else? Billy guards and moves with the hits to take some pressure off his head. He can hear the little brats cheering in the background.

A punch to his sternum pushes him towards some rich people display case full of shit. Heavy shit. He doesn't even need to look. He reaches. Grabs something. Smashes it against the side of Harrington's head. Billy sees a big plate sink into Harrington's temple. He stumbles, wobbles, manages to stay standing which is honestly pretty impressive. But standing is going to be all he can do. The brats scream when Billy knocks him down to the ground and starts whaling.

Sometimes, his brain shuts the fuck up, usually when he's working out, like when he's lifting more than he thought he could, or when he's been going at the speed bag non-stop, or when he's been wringing every single drop of mana out of himself to make the wave he's surfing just a little bit higher. Coach calls it flow state.

It's his heaven.

And Billy's deep in heaven now. The world narrows down to just the bliss of his knuckles landing on Steve Harrington's stupid sexy face. He can hear his own ragged breathing. Red blooms on Harrington's cheeks. The other boy's heart beats hard from where it's trapped between his thighs.

Something throws him against the wall so hard his back snaps.

A tiny girl with a buzzcut stands before him, hands outstretched. Blood gushes from her nose. Billy gets pushed deeper into the wall. He wails as his legs bend the wrong way. Bones dig into muscle. She pushes more and forces all the air out of his lungs. He whimpers. His right arm bends backwards.

The children scream at the thing. Beg her to stop. She doesn't. Billy closes his eyes and prepares for death.

It stops.

He opens his eyes and sees all three kids piled on top of the girl-shaped monster. He sinks to the floor and lets the dark claim him.

~~~~~~~~

"Wh…what…?" Lucas's panicked face swims above him. Magic swirls in his head, around his face. His nose burns. He can barely hear his own yelp over the sound of bits of cartilage crashing into each other.

"Aargh! Sorry," Lucas mutters. He hunches over a book, traces his finger over the pages, before putting his hand back on Steve's face and pushing again. Steve whimpers. There's something in his head. It feels like that time coach made him get a massage from some asshole that rolled tiny balls of pain across his spine. But in his head.

"You're hurting him!" Mike scolds.

"No I'm not! He's not screaming," Lucas argues.

Steve groans and thrashes as Mike and Lucas continue to heal him. His head clears up just enough for him to manage to put a hand on Lucas's wrist. "Stop," he pleads.

"Steve. You've got a concussion," Mike says, trying to be soothing. Billy is screaming just a few feet away. Max yells back that this would all go faster if Billy would just hold still! Lucas gives Steve an apologetic grimace then continues without mercy. Steve tries to focus on Billy's agonized screams. Anything to distract him from…this.

Finally, the fog in his head clears up. Steve sits up and feels his face, especially his nose. It's still tender, but it feels like the familiar shape.

"I did it?" Lucas whispers, awed.

"Dude, you're sounding a little too surprised for my comfort," Steve grumbles. He tries getting up. He's still wobbly, but he can walk. El hurtles into his waist and promptly knocks him back on his ass.

"El," Steve says, rubbing circles on her back. She sobs and clutches him harder. "I'm alright."

Steve gently pries her off him while she whines. He should calm her down. Give her hot chocolate or something. But right now, he needs to see why Billy Hargrove is screaming in the corner. El clings off his side, and they make their way to Hargrove like they're in the world's most pathetic three-legged race.

Billy is sitting up against the wall right under a giant, circular crack. Max is sitting on one of his legs as she channels magic into him. He's not screaming anymore, but he's biting his lips hard enough to break skin. He mutters swearwords and advice between gasps. Steve watches Billy's mangled right hand slowly find the correct shape. Max falls off, panting. Billy leans back, shiny with sweat.

"What the fuck is she?" Billy asks, pointing at El.

"Her name is El," Mike says snottily before Steve can stop him.

"No one," Steve frantically corrects.

Max grips Hargrove by the collar. "You hear that? No one," she growls. "No one. Are we clear? You tell anyone about this. You touch any of my friends, ever again, and I'll fucking kill you. I know where you sleep."

Hargrove scoffs and pushes her off him more gently than Steve expected. "I'm not gonna go around town yapping about a little girl breaking all the bones in my body you fucking runt," he says, "look, you patched me up. I'm just gonna go and finish healing up."

"You're… not gonna tell anyone?" Lucas pipes up.

"Who the fuck would believe me?" Hargrove laughs weakly. He gets up. "You can get this brat home right?" He asks Steve.

Then he totters out without waiting for a reply.

~~~~~~~~

Billy does his best to saunter as normal. He's Billy fucking Hargrove—invulnerable, unflappable, unbothered. He gets in the Camaro and makes it three blocks. There's an abandoned side street where Munson likes to do his drug deals. He peeks out, looks around, makes sure there's no one there. He exhales and gets back in the car.

His body takes over.

He can't stop himself from thrashing about like a toddler throwing a tantrum. He can still feel the sharp crack of his limbs getting bent in the wrong directions, and the nearly as bad crack of them getting twisted back into the correct shapes. The hard wall against his back. The sudden numbness in his lower half when that thing broke his back. Billy wails loud enough to echo. He loses track of time.

When he comes to, there's drool around his mouth. He's soaked in fresh sweat. It's rancid. Which is a fucking shame because he's going to have to sleep in his car tonight. Might have to sleep in his car for a few days honestly when Max gets delivered home by Steve Harrington, not him. Hopefully, the blanket he keeps in his trunk will be warm enough for fall in Indiana.

He falls asleep nearly as soon as his head hits the backseat.

~~~~~~~~

He's not sure what woke him up. He's not sure how long he's been asleep. But there's someone crouching right outside the Camaro. Billy groans and clambers to the front seat so he can lay on the horn. This is his spot. Whoever that is can sleep on the ground somewhere else.

The person stands. Billy wishes she hadn't.

Her eyes are vacant. Her skin looks...thin, delicate, papery in a way no living humans' ever does. There's a yellowish tint to her skin. Her hair is long, tangled, wild. There's something wrong with her stomach. Billy can count every rib on her bony chest, can see her pronounced collarbones. But her stomach distends. It shifts and gurgles. A hand pokes out, a child-sized one. The worst thing is her mouth. It's too big for her face, full of sharp yellow teeth. They stare at each other for a beat.

She lunges.

Billy drives right into her. She goes flying and lands head first. Her neck snaps. He leans back, panting.

She picks herself back up.

Billy watches in horror as her head twists 180 degrees so she can look at him. She grins. Billy backs out and drives as fast as he can back to the Harrington manor, back to people.

He can see her running after him from through the rearview mirror. The arms and legs go everywhere, twisting in ways the human body never should. He's doing at least sixty but it doesn't look like she's even breaking a sweat. The next time Billy checks the mirror, she's not behind him.

She's beside him.

She leers at him from the passenger seat. She's so cold he can feel it and she's not even touching him. Billy slams on the brakes and rolls out of the car before it's even stopped moving. He runs. He can see the Harrington manor from here. The front door flies open. The light forms a halo around Harrington's silouhette. Almost there...

The world freezes over.

She latches herself onto Billy's back and sinks her teeth into the meat of his shoulder. It's a kind of cold Billy's never even imagined. The colors fade away. Then the outlines of objects blur. Then the world itself starts to melt into nothingness. The thing on Billy's back throws its head back to rip out a chunk of Billy's shoulder. He screams and tries to pull her off with his left arm, but she's wrapped around him like a fucking vice. He tries throwing himself onto the ground backwards. But there's no ground to throw himself on.

They fall with no impact. He thrashes and kicks and struggles some more. She grips him tighter and gnaws on his arm.

Steel flashes over his head.

The thing wails and falls off him. Billy rolls over with the last dregs of his strength to see the thing crawl away in two pieces. The top drags itself forward by the arms. The lower half just rolls, trying to follow the head. What looks like a tangle of limbs and other body parts convulses where the creature used to be. Billy looks up and sees the girl that broke all his bones back in the Harrington manor. But now she's wearing heart-shaped sunglasses and a pink frilly dress. She twirls her giant sword like... someone. He blacks out before he can remember who.

[trinity-mia]

a story as endless as the ocean

the titan's curse

0.3 bianca di angelo changes her future

warnings : allie and thalia cry a bit, some despair for flavor, mentions of allie leaving nico for the wolves

word count : 4.0k

0.3 Determination Can Often Be Mistaken for Disrespect (But I Don't Care, Don't Get in My Way)

I had to clench my teeth to keep myself from sobbing, but even though finding Luke and Brylie were my top priority, I had more pressing issues to deal with. Artemis looked me over, as if trying to see my list of skills just by looking at me. 

Through my anguish, I gave her a polite curtsy. She smiled and nodded, as if she was hoping I'd do that. I saw Grover look from me to Artemis, trying to figure out why she was important. Then it clicked. 

He gasped, then knelt hastily in the snow and started yammering, "Thank you, Lady Artemis! You're so... you're so... Wow!"

Thalia evidently disagreed with his dramatic actions as much as I did. "Get up, goat boy!" she snapped. "We have other things to worry about. Luke and Brylie are gone!"

"Yeah," I agreed. "Priorities, Grover. Our best friend, remember him? The one who just got dragged over a cliff and somehow disappeared along with our other friend who has already been kidnapped once in her life and is only fourteen!"

He scrambled back to his hooves, looking guilty. But before he could say anything, someone else spoke up first.

"Whoa," Bianca di Angelo said. "Hold up. Time out."

Everybody looked at her. She pointed her finger at all of us in turn, like she was trying to connect the dots. "Who... who are you people?"

Artemis's expression softened. "It might be a better question, my dear girl, to ask who you are! Who are your parents?"

Bianca glanced nervously at her brother, who was still staring in awe at Artemis.

"Our parents are dead," Bianca replied. "We're orphans. There's a bank trust that pays for our school, but..."

She faltered. I guess she could tell from our faces that we didn't believe her.

"What?" she demanded, sounding defensive. "I'm telling the truth."

"You are a half-blood," Zoe told her. Her accent was from Ancient Greece and she spoke Old English. I knew that she was Artemis' oldest living Hunter, based on the seniority head piece, but couldn’t gather much else. "One of thy parents was mortal. The other was an Olympian."

"An Olympian... athlete?"

"No," Zoe said. "One of the gods."

"Cool!" Nico declared, sounding and looking utterly thrilled. He didn't seem to understand the reality of the circumstances at all. Bianca seemed less delusional.

"No!" her voice quavered. "This is not cool!"

Nico danced around excitedly, hopping from one leg to the other. "Does Zeus really have lightning bolts that do six hundred damage? Does he get extra movement points for—"

"Nico, shut up!" Bianca put her hands to her face. "This is not your stupid Mythomagic game, okay? There are no such things as gods!"

As anxious as I felt about Luke and Brylie— all I wanted to do was search for them— I couldn't help feeling sorry for the di Angelos. I had been through that before, too. Though, I had accepted it a little too easily. Too many dots had started connecting, but that was by no means a normal reaction. Plus, Bianca was probably twelve, at most. Her rational thinking skills had to be called into doubt for at least a moment.

Thalia must've been feeling something similar, because the anger in her eyes subsided a little bit. "Bianca, I know it's hard to believe. But the gods are still around. Trust me. They're immortal. And whenever they have kids with regular humans, kids like us, well... Our lives are dangerous."

"Dangerous," Bianca said, "like the two who fell."

I caught my breath, feeling as if I had just been punched in the stomach. Thalia turned away and Grover looked stricken. Even Artemis looked pained. My sympathy drained quickly.

"You know, you could have a little respect," I spat dryly. "They fell protecting the two of you." Bianca winced at my tone and Nico's seeming unfading grin faded just slightly.

"Do not despair for your friends, Allie. If they can be found, I will find them," Artemis said gently, putting a hand on my shoulder. Thalia, who'd been caught up in her own thoughts, openly glared at the goddess' hand. She seemed suspicious of the gesture. 

"When we get back to camp, we're going on a quest to find them," I said, directing my statement towards Thalia and Grover, the former of which nodded determinedly and the latter of which was still staring at Artemis and mumbled something along the lines of, "Uh-hufnmmm."

Artemis gave me a small grimace. "Allie, be careful—"

"I know, be careful with what I say, what I do, where I go. I know. I've been told plenty of times. I mean no disrespect, but please, stop trying to tell me what to do."

Zoe looked outraged that I even thought about interrupting Artemis, but the lady in question seemed quite fine with my response.

"I can give you that, Allie. Magic is at work, I'm sure you can sense it. It will be a grueling process to find your friends, know that."

"Oo!" Nico raised his hand, like we were in a mortal classroom or something. He didn't appear affected by the possibility of the greatest guy I'd ever known having been captured to save him anymore. Bad trade, I thought silently. Brylie Burkett for an over-excited kid and Luke Castellan, the closest-to-perfect guy there is, for an in-denial older sister. How the Hades did that work?

"What about Dr. Thorn?" Nico asked, looking gleeful. "It was awesome how you shot him with arrows! Is he dead?"

"He was a manticore," Artemis said. "Hopefully he is destroyed for now, but monsters never truly die. They re-form over and over again, and they must be hunted whenever they reappear."

"Or they'll hunt us," Thalia added darkly as she turned back, her composure restored once again. I couldn't help but notice her mascara was slightly smudged, and her eyes shone. We gave each other a side hug, for support.

Bianca shivered. "That explains... Nico, you remember last summer, those guys who tried to attack us in the alley in DC?"

"And that bus driver," Nico said, starry-eyed. "The one with the ram's horns. I told you that really happened."

"That's why Grover has been watching you," I said. "To keep you safe, if you turned out to be half-bloods. He's a protector, a really good one." One that had found both the only children of the Big Three born in decades. That made something hit at the back of my mind, but I couldn't put my finger on it. I shrugged and dismissed it. It'd come back to me.

"Grover?" Bianca stared at him. "You're a demigod?"

"Well, a satyr, actually." He kicked off his shoes and displayed his goat hooves. I thought Bianca was going to faint right then and there.

"Grover, put your shoes back on," Thalia ordered. "You're freaking her out."

"Hey, my hooves are clean!"

"Bianca," I said, cutting in. "We came here to help you. You and Nico need training to survive. Doctor Thorn won't be the last monster you meet. You need to come to camp."

"Camp?" she repeated questioningly.

"Camp Half-Blood," I explained, the familiar spiel falling off my tongue without thinking about it.

Good thing too. I didn't want to be thinking. I wanted to figure out where Luke and Brylie were. Though, Luke always said I was way better with kids than he was. That I just had this air about me. Like I'd rip the world apart to protect the ones I cared about.

"It's where half-bloods learn to survive and navigate the world as a demigod. You can join us, stay there year-round if you like."

"Sweet, let's go!" said Nico, jumping in place. Oh yeah, this kid had ADHD alright.

"Wait," Bianca shook her head. "I don't—"

"There is another option," Zoe said.

"No, there isn't!" Thalia said.

My first thoughts told me I didn't care if Bianca joined the hunters or not. Then, my second thought told me all contact between her and her brother would be practically nonexistent. I could tell that little boy's life depended on her. How could she leave him, just like that? However, you could tell Bianca didn't exactly like being the center of her little brother's world. She'd done it for years. I knew she'd give anything for a break. 

"We've burdened these children enough," Artemis announced. "Zoe, we will rest here for a few hours. Raise the tents. Treat the wounded. Retrieve our guests' belongings from the school."

"Yes, my lady."

"And, Bianca, come with me. I would like to speak with you."

"What about me?" Nico asked.

Artemis considered the boy. "Perhaps you can show Grover how to play that card game you enjoy. I'm sure Grover would be happy to entertain you for a while... as a favor to me?"

Grover just about tripped over himself getting up. "You bet! Come on, Nico!"

Nico and Grover walked off toward the woods, talking about hit points and armor ratings and a bunch of other geeky stuff. Artemis led a confused-looking Bianca along the cliff while the Hunters began unpacking their knapsacks and making camp.

Zoe gave Thalia one more evil look and gave me a once-over, then left to oversee things.

As soon as she was gone, Thalia stamped her foot in frustration. "The nerve of those Hunters! They think they're so... Argh!"

I didn't answer. Something brightly-colored in the snow had caught my eye. When I bent to pick it up, I heard Thalia's breath catch in her throat, and tears blurred my vision. It was Luke's Camp Half-Blood necklace. 

Thalia didn't say another word. She wiped a tear from her cheek, turned, and marched off, leaving me alone with a damaged necklace in the snow. I pulled Luke’s jacket tighter around me.

The Hunters set up their camping site in a matter of minutes. Seven large tents, all of silver silk, curved in a crescent around one side of a bonfire. One of the girls blew a silver dog whistle, and a dozen white wolves appeared out of the woods. They began circling the camp like guard dogs. The Hunters walked among them and fed them treats. Falcons watched us from the trees, their eyes flashing in the firelight, and I suspected that they were on guard duty, too. Even the weather seemed to bend to the goddess' will. The air was still cold, but the wind died down and the snow stopped falling, so it was almost pleasant sitting by the fire.

Almost... except for the guilt weighing me down. I couldn't believe Brylie was gone. I couldn't believe Luke was gone. And all that I could think was that it was my fault. If I hadn't lost my balance and been knocked over, I could have stopped Thorn from grabbing them. I thought about how tired Luke had looked, when we'd danced together for half a song, and my heart felt even heavier.

He had been tired for over a year. Ever since I waltzed into his life he hadn't gotten a proper rest. It was one thing after another, with him wanting to make sure I was safe, no matter what I did. And me, being the stupid, impossible, stubborn girl that I was, dragged him along with me. He didn't complain and he was always there. I wiped away a stray tear.

I watched Thalia pacing in the snow at the edge of camp, walking among the wolves without fear. Of course, they were only trained to hate monsters and men. Not maidens. She stopped and looked back at Westover Hall, which was now completely dark, looming on the hillside beyond the woods. I wondered what she was thinking.

Seven years ago, Thalia had been turned into a pine tree by her father, to prevent her from dying. She'd stood her ground against an army of monsters on top of Half-Blood Hill in order to give Luke time to get to safety with Annabeth and Grover. She had only been back as a human for a few months now, and once in a while, she would stand so still that you would think she was still a tree.

Finally, one of the Hunters brought me my suitcase. Grover and Nico came back from their walk, and Grover helped me bandage up a few scratches I'd gotten.

Nico rummaged through his bag, which the Hunters had packed for him. He laid out a bunch of figurines in the snow— little battle replicas of Greek gods and heroes. I recognized Zeus with a lightning bolt, Ares with a spear, Apollo with his sun chariot. They were surprisingly accurate representations of the gods back in the Ancient days.

"Big collection," I said.

Nico grinned. "I've got almost all of them, plus their holographic cards! Well, except for a few really rare ones."

"You've been playing this game a long time?"

"Just this year. Before that..." He knit his eyebrows.

"What?" I asked.

"I can't remember. That's weird." He looked unsettled, but it didn't last long. "Hey, can I see those swords you were using?"

I pulled off my jewelry and turned them into their weapon form. I showed him Riptide and Shaker, and explained that I was one of the sword instructors at camp. Thinking about Luke and I sharing classes only made my mood plunge again, though.

"Cool! Where'd you get those from?"

"My father gave them to Chiron, the same centaur from the stories, and told Chiron to give them to me when I came. From what I've heard, Riptide has a tragic past and Shaker has a lot more power than I think. Though, Riptide has been around for centuries. Shaker was made specifically for me."

"Awesome! Didn't you jump off that cliff earlier? How'd you get the water to do that?"

"My father's Poseidon. I can do a lot of things when it comes to the sea and... basically most of Poseidon's domains." He nodded excitedly, then continued with his grilling.

"Are you really the daughter of Poseidon?"

"Yes. Didn't I just say that?"

"Wicked! Can you control earthquakes and stuff, then?"

"Uh, I dunno," I shifted. "I've never tried... intentionally, at least." When I glanced at Grover, he was trying hard not to laugh.

He went on asking questions. Was Thalia argumentative, since she was a daughter of Zeus? (I didn't answer that one.) If Luke had so much experience, why hadn't he known better than to fall off a cliff? (I tried not to strangle Nico for asking that one.) Was Luke my boyfriend? (At this point, I was ready to stick the kid in a meat-flavored sack and throw him to the wolves.)

I figured any second he was going to ask me how many hit points I had, and I'd lose my cool completely, but then Zoe Nightshade came up to us.

"Astraea Jackson." She studied me like I was some trophy that needed to be added to the collection of Hunters. Luke didn't know this, but on one of my most recent trips out of camp, I'd run into the hunters, who'd asked me if I wanted to join. I said I'd think about it and managed to get out of it. 

The thing was, though, I did think about it. Last year, when Luke and I were in the Sea of Monsters, we'd run into Circe, who'd offered to teach me to be a sorceress. She said I'd be immortal, all-powerful. At the time I was too mad to even listen to her, but when the hunters ran into me... 

"Come with me," she ordered me. "Lady Artemis wishes to speak with thee."

Zoe led me to the last tent, which looked no different from the others, and waved me inside. Bianca di Angelo was seated next to Artemis, who was cross-legged on the ground.

The inside of the tent was warm and comfortable. Silk rugs and pillows covered the floor. In the center, a golden brazier of fire seemed to burn without fuel or smoke. Behind the goddess, on a polished oak display stand, was her huge silver bow, carved to resemble gazelle horns. The walls were hung with animal pelts: black bear, tiger, and several others I didn't recognize. I figured an animal rights activist would've had a heart attack looking at all those rare skins, but maybe since Artemis was the goddess of the hunt, she could replenish whatever she shot. I thought she had another animal pelt lying next to her, and then I realized it was a live animal— a deer with glittering fur and silver horns, its head resting contentedly in Artemis's lap.

"Join us, Astraea Jackson," the goddess said. I wished that she wouldn't use my full name. Only people wanting to kill me used my full name, and I didn't fancy my chances against this particular goddess. Ares, I apparently could take, but Artemis? She had a little bit of everything. No matter how cocky Luke said I was, I knew I didn't compare to her.

I sat across from her on the tent floor. The goddess studied me, which made me uncomfortable. Gods looking at you like you were a science project had to be a health hazard, right?

Zoe sat down at Artemis's right. She continued to gaze at me. I shifted a little, pulling my legs to the side of me to be more comfortable. 

"We have a few things to discuss, as you know. But my important question can wait. I've asked you here so that you might first tell me more of the manticore. Bianca has reported some of the... mmm, disturbing things the monster said. But she may not have understood them. I'd like to hear them from you."

And so I told her everything I'd heard. It wasn't a lot, but for her, it seemed to be enough.

When I was done, Artemis put her hand thoughtfully on her silver bow. "I feared this was the answer."

Zoe sat forward. "The scent, my lady?"

"Yes."

"What scent?" I asked.

"Things are stirring that I have not hunted in millennia," Artemis murmured. "Prey so old I had nearly forgotten."

She stared at me intently. "We came here tonight sensing the manticore, but he was not the one I seek. Tell me again, exactly what Doctor Thorn said."

"He... I think I might've heard him say something about a general explaining things, or something like that." Bianca nodded, as if it matched what she heard

Zoe's face paled. She turned to Artemis and started to say something, but Artemis raised her hand.

"Go on, Allie," the goddess said.

"Well, then Thorn was talking about something that he called the 'Great Stirring', and he said, 'Soon we shall have the most important monster of all— the one that shall bring about the downfall of Olympus’."

The goddess was so still she could've been a statue.

"Maybe he was lying," I suggested hopefully, albeit a bit sarcastically.

Artemis shook her head. "No. He was not. I've been too slow to see the signs. I must hunt this monster."

Zoe looked like she was trying very hard not to be afraid, but she nodded. "We will leave right away, my lady."

"No, Zoe. I must do this alone."

"But, Artemis—"

"This task is too dangerous even for the Hunters. You know where I must start my search. You cannot go there with me."

"As... as you wish, my lady."

"I will find this creature," Artemis vowed. "And I shall bring it back to Olympus by the winter solstice. It will be all the proof I need to convince the Council of the Gods of how much danger we are in."

"You know what the monster is?" I asked.

Artemis gripped her bow. "Let us pray I am wrong."

"Can goddesses pray?" I asked, because I'd never really thought about that. I bet Luke would be curious too.

A flicker of a smile played across Artemis's lips. "Before I go, Astraea Jackson, I have a small task for you."

"Does it involve averting my idea of finding Luke and Brylie?"

"No, dear girl. I want you to escort the Hunters back to Camp Half-Blood. They can stay there in safety until I return."

"What?" Zoe blurted out. "But, Artemis, we hate that place. The last time we stayed there—"

"Yes, I know," Artemis said. "But I'm sure Dionysus will not hold a grudge just because of a little, ah, misunderstanding. It's your right to use Cabin Eight whenever you are in need. Besides, I hear they rebuilt the cabins you burned down."

Zoe muttered something about foolish campers.

"And now there is one last decision to make." Artemis turned to Bianca. "Have you made up your mind, my girl?"

Bianca hesitated. "I'm still thinking about it."

"Wait," I said, though I knew already. Surely she wasn't actually going to abandon her brother who adored her, though? Who did that? "Thinking about what?"

"They... they've invited me to join the Hunt."

"But you can't! What about your brother? Nico can't be a Hunter."

"Certainly not," Artemis agreed. "He will go to camp. Unfortunately, that's the best boys can do."

"You can see him from time to time," Artemis assured Bianca. "But you will be free of responsibility. He will have the camp counselors to take care of him. And you will have a new family. Us."

"A new family," Bianca repeated dreamily. "Free of responsibility."

I was disgusted by her, but I said nothing more, as I could tell she wouldn't be dissuaded. Nico might be annoying, but he was just a kid. He'd need a lot of support from the Hermes cabin to help him get over this betrayal. I hoped that he'd be claimed quickly, so we didn't have to add parental abandonment issues on top of sisterly ones. Gods, what kind of person was she?

She looked at Zoe. "Is it worth it?"

Zoe nodded. "It is."

"What do I have to do?"

"Say this," Zoe told her, "'I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis’."

"I... I pledge myself to the goddess Artemis."

"I turn my back on the company of men, accept eternal maidenhood, and join the Hunt."

Bianca repeated the lines. "That's it?"

Zoe nodded. "If Lady Artemis accepts thy pledge, then it is binding."

"I accept it," Artemis said.

The flames in the brazier brightened, casting a silver glow over the room. Bianca looked no different, but she took a deep breath and opened her eyes wide. "I feel... stronger."

"Welcome, sister," Zoe smiled. It was a strange sight, definitely.

"Remember your pledge," Artemis said. "It is now your life."

I couldn't speak. I felt like a trespasser. And a complete failure. I couldn't believe we'd come all this way and Luke and Brylie had sacrificed themselves, only to lose Bianca to the eternal girls' club.

"And, you should know I mean no harm by saying this, nor do I want to rush your decision, but I'm wondering... have you yourself thought about our offer?" She raised her eyebrows and it felt hard to lie to her, so I didn't.

"I... have. And I’ve decided that it isn’t for me. I enjoy my life as it is, and despite some of the more… unsavory parts of my career, I do enjoy acting and singing. Even the modeling can be enjoyable most of the time. I don’t want to throw my life away.”

Zoe didn’t try to stifle her disbelieving scoff, but simply mumbled under her breath that it was an honor to hunt under Artemis and considering it ‘throwing my life away’ was grossly inaccurate. 

Despite Zoe’s reaction, Artemis simply nodded. "I respect that, Allie Jackson. Know, however, that the door is only open for as long as you consider it so," Artemis closed her eyes. "Dawn is approaching. Zoe, break camp. You must get to Long Island quickly and safely. I shall summon a ride from my brother."

Zoe didn't look very happy about this idea, but she nodded and told Bianca to follow her. As she was leaving, Bianca paused in front of me.

"I'm sorry, Allie," she murmured. "But I want this. I really, really do."

You want to abandon your brother? I thought, but I said nothing aloud, simply turned my head away from her to keep my expression neutral. Then she was gone, and I was left alone with the twelve-year-old goddess.

"So," I said glumly. "We're going to get a ride from your brother, huh?"

Artemis's silver eyes gleamed. "Yes, dear girl. You see, Bianca di Angelo is not the only one with an annoying brother. It's time for you to meet my irresponsible twin, Apollo. Be careful. One look and he might pine after you for the rest of your life."

*    *    *

previous | next

SERIES M.LIST | MAIN M.LIST | TIPS

[disturbedbeautywrites]

Unsafe - Steve Harrington Imagine

Billy Hargrove; the name made most girls around you weak in the knees and it made the guys get intimidated. However, that name meant something different to you. He was your best friend. You were the house he escaped too when his parents were too much. You were the one who Max called when Billy was being too much and you would try and calm him down. You were basically his other half, and most people thought you guys were together. You liked to make it well known that you were not.

You already felt unapproachable enough because of the fact that you hung out with Billy, and he was beyond protective of you. He liked to intimidate the guys who were interested in you. He saw it as a challenge, stating that the guys couldn’t be too interested if they let him scare them off. You just went along with it, trying not to let him see how disappointed you were everytime. Especially with prom coming up soon, you definitely hoped to have a date for that.

In fact, that’s what the topic of discussion was at the lunch table as you sat beside Billy and your other friends; half listening to them name off the names of girls that they each wanted to ask out. “Y/N?” Your name was called out softly beside you, but you were too focused on Steve Harrington and his friends sitting a couple of tables away. He was laughing and telling some story, his perfect smile on full display. You felt your heart start to race as you watched him, biting the inside of your cheek.

It was no secret that Steve was the heartthrob of the school. He had amazing hair, an amazing smile, and he was athletic. He also was good with kids; that much you knew from what Max had told you about when she hung out with him. It was enough to cause a crush to form on the King, or former King according to Billy, of Hawkins High. As you were staring, he caught your eye and smiled at you, sending a wink your way.

As you felt a blush rise on your cheeks you suddenly were face to face with Billy, his eyes concerned as he looked at you. “Where the hell did you go?” You suddenly snapped out of it, stammering as you ran a hand through your hair. You came up with some stupid excuse about being stressed for a test you had next period and you were thinking about that. Billy seemed to sort of believe the lie, turning around behind him to sneer at Steve.

“Hey, uh. I’m actually going to go study for my test. I’ll catch up with you guys later.” You stood up from the table and took your food with you, throwing it in the trash on your way outside. You found a bench outside of the school, sitting down and letting out a long breath. You heard footsteps behind you, choosing to ignore it until a body sat down beside you.

“So, I gotta ask. Was there something on my face or am I just pretty enough you couldn’t stop staring?” Your eyes widened and you swore under your breath as you looked up at Steve, a cigarette in his mouth as he took a long drag from it. His famous smirk was evident as he looked down at you curiously.

“Oh, there was definitely something on your face. But, you must have gotten it. It’s gone now.” You said quietly, your face lighting up bright pink. Steve chuckled and looked over at you, biting his bottom lip as the end of lunch bell rang. “Well, I gotta get going. I’ll see you around?” Your voice was hopeful as you stood up from the bench. Steve affirmed, staring after you as you walked away. Little did you know, Billy was watching the whole exchange from inside the back door.

He stopped you on your way inside, a less than thrilled expression on his face. However, he knew the look in your eyes. He knew the smile on your face. He knew the rosy color of your cheeks. “Oh, come on. Harrington, really? Of all people you could’ve been crushing on.” He let out a groan as he ran a hand through his hair. “Damn it.”

You just stood there, arms crossed as you watched Billy fight a massive internal battle over whether his loyalty you or his hatred for Steve would win over. Ultimately, it was his loyalty to you. “Look. I’ll give him one chance if anything happens between you two. But if he hurts you, I’m murdering him.”

You knew Billy wasn’t one to bluff about things like that, but the next few weeks you started to get closer to Steve until he finally asked you to go out on a date at the movies. You of course accepted, but you made the mistake of telling Billy which movie you were going to see.

As you walked in, Steve pointed you towards your seats as he held your popcorn and your drink. You guys sat down, talking and smiling. Steve leaned in, ready to kiss you until someone behind you cleared their throat. You rolled your eyes, looking behind you and almost jumping out of your seat as you saw Billy.

“Oh, you’ve gotta be kidding.” The words left your lips in a groan, causing Billy to smirk as he put his arms around the shoulders of the two of you. You profusely apologized to Steve, feeling heat rise up in your cheeks and up the back of your neck.

“You see, Harrington. As long as you treat my best friend here we’ll, we won’t have any issues. But, if you hurt her, I’ll make your last beating look like a walk in the park compared to what will happen to you next. That’s a massive promise.” Billy patted Steve on the shoulder, winking at him before he leaned back in his seat and smirked to himself. Lord, was he a thorn in your side anytime you liked a guy. Let alone a guy he didn’t like.

But, as you two continued to date, Steve acted as a perfect gentleman and made sure to not give Billy any reason to think otherwise. You got to keep your best friend, and your new boyfriend. Plus, you finally had your prom date. You couldn’t be happier.

[ristoranteivorykeys]

shoe-t to his face – headcanon

- ͙۪۪̥˚┊❛ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭: reader throwing their own shoe shoe at his face ❜┊˚ ͙۪۪̥◌ ft. leona kingscholar, floyd leech, jade leech, and azul ashengrotto

╰┈➤ 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞𝐬: happy twst en release! to celebrate, i’m answering the last request in the inbox before i might open requests again. i know my format has been continuously going through changes, but i think i’m satisfied now. xD  ╰┈➤ 𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐛𝐲: anon

𝐋𝐞𝐨𝐧𝐚 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐚𝐫

Leona will catch the shoe and watch as you make a run for it. Quite the audacity and stupidity you have to throw a shoe at his face while fully knowing that you may be in trouble if you stayed put. Perhaps a misbehaving herbivore should learn a thing or two about crossing a NRC dorm leader and a royal. 

Of course, he doesn’t wish to deal with all the work of putting you in your place. And that’s why Leona has trusted people to do his bidding, aka Ruggie. It’s not like Ruggie won’t get anything out of it either–– he gets access to some of Leona’s wealth if he carries out this lesson for you.

Leona will be lounging in the botanical gardens as Ruggie drags you to a nearby location, without your control. He’ll be watching as you unwillingly take out your shoe and whack yourself with it, and he’ll be listening to your yelps of pain and pleas to stop. 

He isn’t going to budge from his spot, and heck, he’ll pretend to be asleep. But Leona can’t stop the smirk from growing on his lips. It’s just so satisfying hearing you enjoy your little lesson. 

𝐅𝐥𝐨𝐲𝐝 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

Now aren’t you so kind to gift Floyd a shoe? It’s just too bad that you not only gifted it to him by throwing it at his face, but you also ran away without so much a word. It’s a good thing that he caught it so that no damage was done to it.

Now, if his mood is good, he will laugh in amusement. It’s not something that he’d get to experience every day. But if his mood is terrible, he will be angry. Either way, Floyd will pay you back for such a charitable gift. 

You want to play tag? Oh he’ll join in alright. Floyd will run after you with your shoe in hand. If you have little to no athletic ability or stamina, expect that he’ll corner with his lopsided smile. 

When he gets a perfect view of your face, Floyd will throw the shoe with all his might and make sure that it hits your face so hard that you’ll recoil from it. If you fall on your butt, all the more he will howl in laughter. Your reaction to his gift for you is absolutely priceless! 

𝐉𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐋𝐞𝐞𝐜𝐡

Jade's hands go up to his face when he sees the shoe flying towards him and protects himself. He’s stunned for a bit, but as he sees your retreating figure dashing away, he will smile. My oh my, so this is how you are. He’ll gladly entertain your whims. 

Jade isn’t cruel at all, he will return your shoe shortly after. There’s just a nice little addition underneath the insole of your shoe. He suppresses the glee through a shocked face as he watches your disdain over seeing shaving cream mess up the inside of your shoe and your sock. Jade will apologize, but of course, he doesn’t mean it. 

And that’s not all. Since it seems like you don’t care about your shoes, perhaps you won’t mind it if he takes your PE shoes before your classes with Vargas without your knowledge. Jade will make sure to have a good view of you getting scolded by Vargas about the importance of such shoes for physical activity.

Don’t worry, he will return them to their proper place without you looking. Just expect a little note in your shoe with a cute mushroom drawing with the words: “Next time, please don’t misplace your shoes.”

𝐀𝐳𝐮𝐥 𝐀𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐫𝐨𝐭𝐭𝐨

Poor Azul, he will be met face first with your shoe. He wouldn’t be able to see you, but he will hear your laughter as you run away. A foolish mistake. You know, you could have damaged his glasses for your brash actions! Perhaps it’s time a bad kid learns how to behave. 

Is there a problem, dear? Do you have any concerns that led you to throwing your shoe at his face, or did you just do it for the sake of it? Either way, Azul will learn more about you, through keen observation and answers from people who know you. 

Once he finds out what sort of desires and insecurities you may have, Azul will approach you with an enticing contract. He’ll help you with fulfilling your single desire, but in exchange, you have to give up any one of your abilities. If you want it back, score perfect on every single exam. But should you fail, you have to work in Mostro for a week. 

Should you fail to hold up your end of the bargain, you’ll be assigned with doing a little clown act every night to entertain the customers. And as people laugh at the various embarrassing actions that you do, Azul himself sits by the counter, taking amusement that his revenge plan worked out very well. 

[amjustagirl]

storm chaser outtakes: his baby girl brings home a boy 

genre: parenthood fluff  warnings: sex ed talk. wrap it up, kiddos! wc: 910

a/n: set in the storm chaser universe and you can read Atsumu’s other exploits with his daughter here!

Miya Atsumu knew this day would come. 

‘Samu told him he’s stupid if it didn’t happen sooner rather than later. Meian had gloated about it. Even Kita, two hours away by train, told him it was an inevitability. Still, that didn’t stop his brain from short circuiting when he’d opened the front door on a Thursday afternoon. 

“WHAT THE HELL IS THIS?!?”, he’d roared at the sight of Meian Makoto playing tongue hockey with his precious princess. 

He’s going to need to burn the sofa tonight. Or throw it out. Whatever works. 

At least Makoto had the grace to get off the sofa, even if he looks like he’s praying for the floor to swallow him. Shino, on the other hand, scowls at him, looking uncannily like her mother, growling - “Dad, don’t be unreasonable.”

“I’ll deal with you later”, he grounds out. “Go to your room.”

“I’m staying right here” she yells back stubbornly. 

“Go to your room, Shino!” Atsumu thunders, almost a snarl. “Now!” 

He doesn’t have time to process the look of betrayal Shino shoots him before the door slams. He turns to stare at Makoto, who keeps his gaze locked on feet. Atsumu fights the urge to bury his face in his hands, opting to pinch the bridge of his nose instead. 

“Sit”, he says, pointing at the sofa. Makoto complies, still refusing to meet his eyes. 

“Please tell me Meian taught ya how to use a condom - or do I need’ta teach ya myself?” he deadpans. 

Makoto’s mouth falls open. Then he promptly chokes, trying his best to cough his embarrassment and lungs out of his chest. “Y-yeah”, the boy says, cheeks flaring red. “I - uh. Dad mentioned. B-but. We’re not..doing that yet.”

Yet. Atsumu’s eyes narrow. 

“D’ya need a refresher course? Y’know it’ll fail if ya don’t do it properly, right? I’m too young to have grandkids, please spare me.” 

Drama king, he can already imagine his wife scolding him, but that doesn’t deter him. 

“Yes, Uncle ‘Tsumu” the boy mutters, looking so young and frightened it strikes a chord, even though it’s his precious baby princess the kid was fooling around with mere minutes ago. 

Atsumu sighs heavily, dragging a chair from the kitchen, childishly refusing to sit on the sofa. 

“Couldn’t ya have waited ‘til y’all were thirty to get together or somethin’?” he complains, glaring at the boy. “Y’all are just kids - for gods sake, ya haven’t even graduated from high school.”

“I really like Shino”, Makoto says quietly, fiddling with his fingers. “And I’m pretty sure she likes me too.”

“Well - I’m sure of that, considering the way y’all were all over each other on my damn sofa”, Atsumu retorts, amused when the boy flushes even redder. 

“But look, ya and Shin-chan both wanna go pro right after high school. One pro athlete in a relationship is hard enough, let alone two. I just don’t want to have to be the one picking up after ya if yer relationship with Shino fizzles out and ends on a bad note.”     

At this, Makoto finally meets his eyes. 

“It wont”, the boy - no - the young man says simply. Between his unflappable demeanor and the seriousness in his eyes, Atsumu shivers, reminded strongly of his former captain and early morning drills. Damn Meian for tormenting him more than a decade since he retired. 

“I love Shino”, Makoto continues steadily. “I’ve loved her ever since we were kids and I would never do anything to hurt her.”

The kid has guts. Colour him impressed. Still, they’re babies, barely formed and completely unready for the harsh reality the world has in store for them. 

“Kid, let me give ya some advice. Love isn’t gonna be enough to make your relationship last. Relying on it alone is like jumping off a cliff. It’s shit in your pants scary, and you won’t know where yer gonna land, y’know?” 

“I’ll work for it”, Makoto replies, a stubborn set to his jaw. “We’ll work and talk things out together and take each day as it comes”. 

Fuck. It’s unreal how this kid is more mature at seventeen than he was at twenty three. 

He almost misses how Makoto smiles, almost bashful, a little giddy, but certainly starry eyed.

“At the end of the day I want her to be my person, and I want to be hers, hopefully for the rest of my life.”

With that, Atsumu’s heart swan dives into his stomach and soars back into his chest. His baby girl’s got a boy who truly, truly loves her. He doesn’t know whether to celebrate or mourn. Probably both, preferably in Kaiyo’s lap at the end of the night. 

He sighs again, reaches out to clap Makoto on the back. 

“Yer a good kid”, he finally says, almost begrudgingly. “Be good to my princess or I’ll kill ya. Then your dad will kill me, so best that doesn’t happen, yeah?’ 

“I will, Uncle ‘Tsumu”, Makoto says, and it sounds so much like a promise that Atsumu’s heart clenches. 

“Right”, Atsumu shifts uncomfortably. “Could ya go get Shino? I probably should apologise for shouting at her like that. Her ma’s gonna rip me a new one.”

Makoto obligingly trots off, but immediately calls out - “Uh. Uncle ‘Tsumu?” 

“What?” 

“I think Shino climbed down the fire escape.”

“She what?!”

Kaiyo is definitely gonna kill him. Now to figure out which one of her uncles Shino ran off to complain to. 

m.list~ taglist.~

[randomshyperson]

LEFT BEHIND - WANDA MAXIMOFF X READER - #02 "R.I.P to My Youth"

Summary: The one where you lived in the apartment under the Maximoff family in Sokovia, or, your journey as a Sokovian civilian to Avenger.

A/N: So, chapter two is here. Honestly, this story is a mess in my head haha but somehow people are enjoying so i'm sharing. Good reading!

Dictionary for this chapter: dvornyaga - mutt || chuma - plague/brat || Prostite, mem - sorry, ma'm || Vor - thief || printsessa - princess || skuchnyy - annoying ||

Series Warnings: (+16) Violence, fighting, cursing, civil war environments, abuse of power, assault, torture, underage kissing, psychological torture, substance use, mention of assault/fighting of children, smut, kissing, teasing, insinuation of sexual and moral harassment, verbal offenses. Chapter warnings: Underage kissing, violence.

Words: 3.268 K

All Works Masterlist || Read on AO3 || Part One || Series Masterlist

//-//

Chapter Two - R.I.P to My Youth

Sokovia, 7 years ago.

You ducked quickly when you noticed the punch coming toward you.

"Stand still, dvornyaga!" Said the teenager trying to hold you by the shoulders, but you slipped out of his hands, dodging under his arms and starting to run.

The boy rushed to catch up with you, but you were smaller, and fit into places he couldn't get into. Rolling into a crevice in one of the abandoned factories, you laughed as the boy and his friends shouted angrily at you, unable to follow.

Your joy died the second you turned the corner. The nursemaid from the orphanage waiting for you with her arms folded.

"Running away from chores again, chuma?" The woman asked angrily. You ducked your head, walking over to her. As soon as you reached her, she pinned your ear between her fingers, causing you to grumble in pain as you were dragged into the building.

"Prostite, mem." You tried to apologize, but the woman would not listen, and then pushed you inside.

"No dinner for you." She informed you by throwing a broom into your hands. "Get upstairs and go clean the roofs now!

You climbed onto the rooftops with a grimace, softly cursing all the sisters as witches.

When you arrived, you noticed that there were already other orphans there.

"Good afternoon, Vor." Pietro greeted wryly. You approached him to help him carry one of the tiles.

"Stop calling me that." You retorted, but Pietro just laughed, thanking you for your help afterwards. "Why are you here?"

"I broke Nikolai's nose." He told you, and you looked at him reproachfully.

"And you let them catch you?" You asked. "You used to be smarter than that."

"Shut up." He grumbled humorously, waiting for you to finish sweeping the area you were in to return the tile to its place. "And what did you do this time? Are you going to tell me that Madame Pavlova caught you robbing the church again?"

You laughed, finishing sweeping and going back to helping Pietro lift another tile.

"Church money is for the poor." You retort. "I'm poor, how can I steal what's mine?"

"Keep this up and you'll be in jail as soon as you get out of here." A voice spoke behind you, startling you a little.

"You're so nosy aren't you, Wanda?" You teased the girl, and she grimaced at you before looking at her brother.

"What are you doing up here?" Pietro asked before Wanda could speak again. The girl crossed her arms, watching you guys work.

"I brought food for you two. But with this hostility, I think I'll stay downstairs."

You and Pietro exchanged giggles.

"Sorry, Wanda." You asked in unison, making the girl smile. She looked around to check if there were no priests, or nuns, or orphans staring at you from the window pane below before taking some bagels and bread from a wrapper inside her blouse pocket.

"Is there any possibility that you will stop stealing and behave yourselves?" Wanda asked slightly irritated, and you exchanged a look with Pietro.

"Unlikely." You replied, making him laugh. Wanda looked at you reproachfully. "Don't make that face, printsessa. This is stealing too.”

"Don't call me that." Wanda complained between teeth. But you smiled, because you noticed the slight reddening of her cheeks. "And I wouldn't have to steal if you two would stop causing trouble."

"Or maybe you could let us starve next time." Pietro retorted wryly, and ended up getting slapped on the shoulder by his sister, making you laugh. "Sorry, that was stupid."

"You two are so ungrateful." She grumbled turning to leave. You and Pietro exchanged a look, worried that Wanda was angry. But she gave you two one last look before turning away. "Tomorrow, wake up early. I want to show something."

Wanda went down the roof next, and you exchanged a smile with Pietro before turning back to work.

//-//

Wanda poked you in the ribs and you turned your head quickly. You, she and Pietro were ducking behind a car, breaking curfew, and probably some passing law, since you were in an abandoned building.

"They arrived last week." Wanda said to the two of you, looking in the direction of the back door of the building. There were three men in suits talking in the doorway, and casually looking around to see if they were alone. "They stay there all day."

"What's suspicious about that?" Pietro asked.

"Do you guys remember those kids who disappeared last week?" Wanda asked and waited for you and Pietro to confirm before continuing. "I found the orphanage uniform in the dumpster from the building. What if they are picking up the orphans?"

"You said they speak german, right?" You retorted with a question. When Wanda confirmed, you made a thoughtful face. "What if they are Nazi doctors? They could be trying that supremacist shit again."

"I think we should leave." Pietro said next. "Before they see us here."

"Yeah, come on." Wanda agreed before taking one last look at the door meters away from you, the men were entering. Neither you or Pietro notice that one of them looked directly at the girl before closing the door.

//-//

Pietro advanced against you with his fists raised, but you ducked and shoved him in the ribs.

"Well done, Vor!" He spoke contentedly, sounding surprised. He took two more steps toward you, but you dodged, and threw your arms against his waist. You both laughed as you both fell back onto the grass. Pietro rolled you on the ground to get on top. "You can't let them knock you down, little one."

"I'm the one who knocked you down, asshole." You retort humorously, trying to get up. But Pietro is heavy on you.

"I'm letting you win, obviously." The boy says with a smile. You hate that Pietro has grown so big as to win in fights, but at least he helps you learn to fight with the kids on the street. Which was funny, since Wanda always told you to run.

"Oh, really?" You hit back and then raise your knee hard, hitting him in the balls. Pietro lets out an exclamation of pain and falls beside you to the floor, whimpering. You feel bad at the same moment. "Shit, I'm sorry, Piet." You ask, but let out a giggle, watching him gasp in pain.

"What are you two doing here?" A voice suddenly asked, and you looked forward to find the high school monitor looking at you two reproachfully.

"Shit." You grumbled already hurrying to get up and lift Pietro quickly, who seemed to fight the pain to follow you.

"Maximoff! I should know." The woman spoke annoyed, hurrying to cross the railing. You and Pietro were skipping calculus class in the usually empty area behind the gym. But before she finished crossing, you and Pietro were already running away, laughing at the curses the woman yelled at you, and something about detention for a month.

By the time you stopped running, you were in the city, in the alleyways of suburban Sokovia.

Pietro punched you under the shoulder the moment you stopped, and when you grumbled he said it was for the kick.

"Are you hungry?" You asked as you massaged the spot of the punch.

"Yes." He replied looking around. Some people looked curiously at you two, probably because you came to the scene running, but you ignored it.

"I'll get us some food." You let him know and then you are already walking away to the fair area a few meters ahead. Pietro rolls his eyes at the smug expression you cast at him before you put the cap of your jacket over your head.

//-//

"What have you two gotten yourselves into?" Wanda asked angrily, throwing her backpack on top of the torn armchair. You and Pietro took your eyes off the card game to look at her.

The little crib you set up in one of Sokovia's condemned buildings was cold and damp, but it was the closest thing to a home where no one cursed, or order any of you to clean and do any tasks, so it was your favorite place.

Usually the three of you would run away from the orphanage and school as much as possible to stay around here, but then Wanda started actually studying and you and Pietro didn't.

"Sorry, Wands, calculus isn't really our thing." You grumbled to the girl. Wanda approached you with her arms crossed.

"But athletics it is, I believe." She retorted. "If you keep skipping class, you'll get kicked off the team. The guidance counselor told me to warn you two, and she talked for half an hour, so thanks for that." Wanda grumbled ironically, and you kicked Pietro lightly to get him to stop laughing.

You reached out for the paper package you left in the corner of one of the armchairs.

"Maybe this will improve your mood, printsessa." You said as you handed the item to Wanda. She looked tired, and grimaced, grudgingly thanking you. She smiled weakly when she realized it was food. "I saved some bread for you too."

"You two need to stop stealing." She warned, but took a bite of her food. You shrugged, and returned your attention to the game.

"If we had enough food, I wouldn't need to steal anything." You retorted, and Pietro murmured in agreement, while Wanda frowned slightly.

"You could get some work, too." Wanda argues and you laugh, rolling your eyes.

"We've had this conversation a million times, printsessa."

"Stop calling me that." She asks annoyed.

You rolled your eyes again, and made a move. Pietro sighed slightly, since he was losing.

"I can call you skuchnyy, if you prefer." You retort humorously, and Wanda slaps you on the arm, making you and Pietro laugh.

"If you keep stealing, you'll end up in jail! Or worse, killed." She then adds, and you exchange a look with Pietro.

"Only if we get caught." The boy says and you hold back a laugh, seeing Wanda's disapproving look.

She lets out an impatient exclamation, and starts eating in silence. You focus on the game again, knowing that this discussion would happen again. Wanda would always complain that you were stealing, out of pure concern, and you and Pietro would continue to ignore it, out of necessity.

//-//

Sokovia, 6 years ago.

Gasping and out of breath, you kept running.

"I'm going to win." You heard Pietro shout excitedly beside you, running as fast as you.

"Shut up." You shouted back, but Pietro actually reached the finish line first. You laughed, though, trying to normalize your breathing as you sat on the ground.

Coach walked over to the two of you next, past the small crowd of students who were watching the race celebrating Pietro's victory.

"That was excellent, Maximoff." Congratulated the coach with a handshake. Pietro smiled embarrassed, and you laughed at his face.

"Come on, I'll buy you lunch to celebrate." You told the boy as soon as you stood up, and the coach had left. Pietro threw his arm around you, and you pushed him away. "Get off, you're sweaty."

He laughed, and you parted your ways in the locker room. After taking a shower, you found Pietro already wearing his regular clothes instead of his athletic clothes, but he was not alone. There was a man in a suit talking to him.

As you approached, the man looked at you and waved his hat before turning and leaving.

"What was that?" You asked curiously, but Pietro had a grim expression on his face. "Piete, are you okay?"

"Yeah." He says looking away from yours to the paper in your hands. He puts it away in his pocket before you can read it. "I need to talk to Wanda. Rain check on our lunch later."

"Okay." You mumble confusedly, watching Pietro walk away quickly.

//-//

"Pay attention, no one must see you. Go in quietly, place the packages, and leave without being seen." Warned the man in front of you. You swallowed dryly, but nodded in agreement.

You exchanged a glance with Pietro and Wanda before turning to enter through the small gap in the railing, one of the new commercial buildings on the other side.

Now that you were older, the protest groups accepted you at the marches. You and the twins had been participating for a few months now, and they were usually peaceful walks. But then one of the leaders learned that you could fit in small places, and here you were, sneaking into one of the new buildings that took the place of one of the apartment complexes, looking for the exact spot to place the packages that the group handed you.

Even though you were nervous, you made it. And it was only when you were outside that you heard an explosion much bigger than you expected.

When you saw one of the security guards with a bloody head, shouting in Sokovian for the vandals to be stopped while the rest of the protesters shouted and held up their placards, everything seemed to get a little muffled for you, and you could only focus on the powder marks on your fingers. Stumbling away, you ran.

//-//

Sokovia, 5 years ago.

"You two have lost your minds!" You exclaim in surprise and irritation, taking yourself off the wooden bench you were sitting on. Pietro and Wanda look at you with confusion.

"I told you she wouldn't understand." Pietro grumbles and you look at him with indignation.

"Really?" You retort. "Of course I don't understand, Pietro! You've both gone crazy for good!"

"Keep your voice down!" Pietro retorted angrily, getting up as he looked around. No lights had come on downstairs, so no one from the orphanage was awake. "We're doing this for Sokovia."

"Tell me how offering yourself as an experiment for German Nazis helps Sokovia?" You retorted angrily and Pietro sighed impatiently. "I can't believe you two are actually thinking of doing this."

"What do you think will happen next week when we turn eighteen, heh?" Pietro asked aggressively, and you clenched your jaw. "We'll be kicked out of the orphanage, and we'll be on the street. If we didn't have food before, imagine after that!"

"I can get us food!" You exclaim with tear-filled eyes, but Wanda gives a dry laugh.

"You're not going with us." Wanda retorts and you look at her wide-eyed. "You're going to stay here, where you have a roof and a meal, and we're not going to waste the opportunity to change things in Sokovia."

You looked at them incredulously.

"I can't believe you are going to die for your ambition."

Pietro crossed his arms, looking at you seriously. You looked at Wanda, but she looked away to the floor. Shaking your head, you ran your hands through your hair.

"We are doing this for our country." Pietro stated seriously. You disagreed with your head, feeling your throat close up from emotion. But you did not cry. "Some of us are willing to risk whatever it takes."

You give a dry laugh at the provocation. Pietro was only saying that because you stopped participating in the rallies, ever since the protests got more violent and your colleagues started damaging property, stealing, and there were even rumors of fighting that ended in killing.

"Yeah, Piete, you're right." You retorted upset. "You and Wanda want to die in a cell with needles in your arms, lying that this is for Sokovia and not to get revenge for your parents. But don't expect me to stay and watch."

You accuse bitterly before turning and walking off the roof, your tears flowing as you reach the floor below, but you don't stop walking.

//-//

"What are you doing here?" You asked as soon as you raised your head, your gaze shifting from the vegetables at your feet to the girl in front of you. It had been a few days since you had argued with the Maximoffs, and you hadn't spoken to any of them since.

"I came to say goodbye." Wanda said simply, and you rolled your eyes, getting up from the ground and shaking some of the dirt on your fingers.

"When are you two leaving?"

"Now."

Ignoring the feeling that has formed in your stomach, you just grumble in agreement, turning your back on Wanda, because you don't want her to see you cry.

"And what's this now?" You retort as you sit on the edge of the roof, looking out over the city. "Did you come to tell me that you guys are going to remember me or some sentimental shit?"

Wanda laughs softly, and you hear her footsteps approaching, until she is sitting next to you.

"Well, we've been friends for eight years, I thought I should say goodbye." She says looking forward. You want to swallow the urge to cry, because you don't want them to go. But there is nothing you can do.

"Okay, Wanda. Goodbye then." You retort bitterly, looking down at your hands.

"I wanted to give you something before I go." Wanda adds softly, and you turn your head to her to ask what it is, but as soon as you do, Wanda breaks the distance, her lips meeting yours in a sweet kiss.

You sigh in surprise, and Wanda pulls away.

"S-sorry." She says breathlessly. "I shouldn't..."

But you kiss her again. Properly this time. She is grateful that you hold her around the waist, because then she doesn't fall off the roof when she completely melts from the touch of your tongues together.

You pull away to take a breath, leaving your foreheads together. The urge to tell her not to go anywhere is stuck on the tip of your tongue, and before you can let the words escape, someone is clearing their throat behind you.

"I can't believe you kissed my sister." Pietro complains in a mixed tone of teasing and annoyance. But there is no anger in his gaze. You and Wanda move away embarrassed. "We have to go."

Wanda nods in agreement, and looks at you one last time before standing up, walking over to Pietro.

The boy nods to you before leaving. And when the roof is empty, you let the tears stream down your face.

//-//

As soon as the twins left, you joined the protests again. It kept you distracted now that you were alone. And since you hated so much free time without your friends, you ignored the way that you now always ended up with bruised hands and sore throats after every march.

You got some of your fellow protesters to help you keep an eye on the building that Wanda and Pietro were staying in, and when they stopped coming out of there, you knew something was wrong.

Two weeks without hearing about the twins, you could no longer sleep from worry. You imagined that whatever those men were doing to them would take time. But you also didn't expect that your friends would disappear.

So here you were, sneaking around the abandoned floors to find some clue to where the hell they were. You knew you shouldn't be here. It was their choice, and they knew the consequences. But you kept walking.

Hearing a metal noise, you felt your heart race and quickly hid behind a wall. But no other sound came, so you thought it was safe to move.

Another noise, and a sharp pain in your neck a second later. And then you blacked out.

//-//-//-//

Tag list> @imapotatao / @aimezvousbrahms/ @ensorcellme/ @helloalycia

@mionemymind / @abimess / @stephanieromanoff / @yourtaletotell / @tomy5girls / @justagaypanicking / @thegayw1tch / @idek-5 // @myperfectlovepoem // @HELLOALYCIA // @ENSORCELLME // @AIMEZVOUSBRAHMS // @drpepperobsessed // @sighsam // @olsensnpm

// @sxfwap // @table57 // @madamevirgo // @causeitswhatjesuswouldfreakingdo // @emptysince18x // @xastrydx

[keisurou]

forget - me - not (pt. i)

(ft. tetsurou kuroo) 

pt. I: sincerely, yours

Synopsis: Over the years, you realise your love for Kuroo is like a forget-me-not; always there, but constantly overlooked. 

This is an edited repost of this. 

wc: 3.1k

When you first met him, you were insanely jealous of Tetsurou Kuroo. Being an overweight, chubby kid with your head always in books was hard enough. But it was worse when there was an intelligent and athletic kid who was your neighbour, no less. You remember blatantly closing your front door in Kuroo’s face when he would stop by your house to invite you to play volleyball, right before muttering something about annoying know-it-alls who never gave up. You hated his idiotic face. Why couldn’t he understand that someone like you could never be friends with someone like him?

But he came by, every afternoon, the same dorky smile plastered on his face. And then, on the eve of your twelfth birthday, you asked him to wait. 

In middle school, it’s hard to be friends with both girls and boys. You realised this very early on when the girls would shun you, muttering something about cooties, and you almost laughed at them before you understood that they were not joking. 

Of course, you weren’t that fazed because their reasoning was stupid, and the solution was simple: you could just hang out with Kuroo and Kenma instead. 

But as you rushed to meet them at the cafeteria, you heard the snickers of rowdy boys as they pointed and teased. Kenma looked uncomfortable, and you can’t blame him. You know very well how mean people could be and why sometimes being alone was much better than being vulnerable with someone else. It was why you and he clicked so quickly within days of meeting each other. Kuroo just shrugged them off, laughing loudly at a joke that another boy had said. 

There are whispers behind you, and you turn to find the same boys who had been snickering earlier sneer at you, and you are genuinely confused at this point because the only crime that you seemed to commit was that your two best friends were Kuroo and Kenma. “God, you’re so weird.” one of them seethes, and you flinch slightly. “Why are you always hangin’ around the boys? Don’t you have any friends? Or are you that gross that no one wants to talk to you?” 

You hesitated only for a moment before walking over to face them head-on. “When are you going to grow up? Are you just jealous that no girl will ever want to be friends with you?” 

The bully sputtered, red-faced, and shoved your shoulders. You didn’t expect the force to be so strong and stumbled back, almost tripping over your own feet and losing your balance. He scoffs at you, his eyes hard, and you realised that you hit a sore spot. “Whatever. You know you’re the reason why Kozume’s always bullied when Kuroo isn’t around, right?” You don’t even have time to think of a response as the bell rings, and the cluster of students rush through the doors, and you’re dragged along with the crowd. 

The next day, you head to the library instead. 

There is something calming about sitting in between rows of bookshelves that tower over you. You sat cross-legged on the floor with a pile of books to your left. Bean bags were placed haphazardly here and there but every day, you return to the same spot. As the weeks go by, your little corner reading nook changes as you slowly collect all your favourite titles and place them, hidden away, just like you but always within reach. 

You slowly realise that although libraries felt calming, they didn’t bring you the same happiness you craved with your friends.  

And then Kuroo stopped you. It was unexpected, really. He had seemed as normal as can be on the way to school. So when he stood by your classroom when the lunch bell rang, waiting for you, you froze up on the spot because you knew that he had found out everything. He doesn’t speak as he follows you to the library, to your little reading nook that, until now, had been a secret from the world. Instead, he plops down next to you and thumbs through the pages of a chemistry book. You can’t deny the fact that it’s a little unnerving, and you sit hyper-aware of his breathing and the way he shifts ever so slightly when he flips the page. 

The bell rings, and you both get up and go back to class. He does the same thing tomorrow, and the day after, and the day after that. Frustration gnaws at you, and realise its because you miss his teasing and the way he never seems to shut up. 

“What are you doing, Kuroo?” you cave in and ask him on the third day, and he only blinks up at you, a small smile tugging at the corners of his lips. 

“What do you mean?” 

You sighed exasperatedly. “You know what I mean,” 

He shrugged at that and turned away from you. “Honestly, I’m kind of mad. I thought we were friends. I thought you would tell me anything that was bothering you,”

Oh. Ohh. 

He sneaks a glance at you, and you’re mortified to find that there are butterflies in your stomach. For Kuroo, of all people. 

“Will you tell me why you were avoiding hanging out with us?” He asked this so earnestly that you feel a shiver run down your spine. It’s hard to meet his gaze when he’s like this because you’ve only met Serious Kuroo a handful of times, and frankly, you haven’t had enough encounters with him yet to know how to react. But you sit there and talk, your voice coming out in fragmented sentences and mumbles. If he is annoyed with your reclusive way of speaking, he doesn’t show it and instead listens to you in silence without any interjections. “Don’t pay them any attention. They’re just dumb,” he said this finally, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. “You’re always welcome with us, and we want you more than some brainless douchebags anyway.” 

It had been raining on the way home that day, and the chill had seeped into your bones, but Kuroo’s words from earlier had already instilled a seedling of warmth in your heart. 

It was in your first year of middle school that you finally understood what it meant to have all the hope in the world. 

Ironically, in your first year of high school, you’re shocked at how many girls want to be your friend. You’re not dumb; you know it’s because you’re friends with Kuroo. You can see the way they all follow him with their eyes, and you know exactly how they feel. There’s a subtle grace to his actions, and each of his movements always seemed so effortlessly perfect. 

But every time you saw him, your insides felt weird, and you felt hyper-aware of everything that he said and the way his hands always brushed back your hair to tuck it behind your ears. The slightest brush of his fingers against your ear or arm gave you goosebumps and filled you with warmth all at the same time. And when he looks at you and smiles, you’re torn between wanting to hold his gaze and look away because you’re almost positive that he’s laughing at a piece of food that you accidentally forgot to wipe away. You suddenly realise that his dorky smiles are all you want to see.

“You like him,” 

You blink at Kenma, who says the words so casually that you’re almost sure you didn’t hear him correctly. No, it couldn’t be - could it? You mull over it in your head, and for the next few weeks, it’s all you can think about. Every time he comes by to your room to eat lunch with you, you’re speaking less, avoiding his gaze, and altogether just a panicking mess. 

“Oi,” Kuroo snaps his fingers in front of you, and you’re snapped out of your trail of thoughts. “Are you even listening?” 

“Sorry, what was that?” 

“Are you free these holidays? We’re going to the beach,” You frown and pick at your food before offering a noncommittal hum in agreement. You absolutely loathed the beach, but you didn’t have the heart to tell him that when he was so excited. He furrows his eyebrows at your lack of enthusiasm. “Do you not like the beach? We can go somewhere else if you want.” 

“No, no.” you smile and fake your enthusiasm as much as you can. “The beach is great. I’m excited about it.” 

The smile he gives you at that moment is absolutely blinding. 

In your final year of high school, there is a new girl in your class. She’s shy and quiet, but when you accidentally make eye contact with her, she gives you a small smile. It’s all the invitation you need to go over to her. You and Akari become friends quickly, and within only a few weeks, she begins to hang out with you and Kuroo on the rooftops. 

It was honestly hard not to like her - she was so open and honest and relatable. And the fact that she was gorgeous didn’t go unnoticed. 

But as the days went on, you saw a different type of friendship bloom between Kuroo and Akari. One that had them visiting each other frequently on the weekends, after school, during the holidays. And ironically, you realised both their feelings before either of them did. 

“I really like him,” Akari’s voice is so soft and melodic as she blushes at the confession. You listen; your heart is heavy as your throat constricts. “You’re such a great friend. If it wasn’t for you, I don’t think I would’ve ever liked him this much”. 

You briefly wonder who coined the term ‘irony’ and why. 

The next day, Kuroo came to the rooftop of the school building where you and Kenma waited. It had been a tradition; every lunch, one of you would buy bread for everyone. But that day, in the middle of spring, the cherry blossoms had bloomed, and a blushing Kuroo brought both bread and his new girlfriend. Akari clasped his hand, her face glowing with joy. 

Unfortunately for you, you realised your mistake a little too late - girls like you didn’t go with guys like Kuroo. 

There’s a dull ache in your heart that slowly spreads through your limbs. You plaster on what you hope is a grin, but every time you inhale, the air burns your lungs, and it hurts to breathe. You knew Akari was your friend and that she was good - no, great - for Kuroo, that that didn’t stop the way your lips threatened to tremble when they leave to have some privacy. 

The silence that follows their departure is deafening. Kenma knows everything, but he doesn’t say anything, because frankly, what’s there to be said? You don’t want to put him in an awkward position between you and Kuroo, so you take out your console, and you both start playing together. 

Soon, it’s the only thing you ever do during lunch breaks at school anymore. 

“So, what do you think?” Kuroo stared down at the box he had placed on the table and pulled at his collar. He was nervous and distracted. You could tell with the way he traced the outlines and shapes of his phone, wallet, and envelope. He had been doing that a lot lately since graduating high school, and you were yet to find out why.

You realise he wants someone to believe in himself - to tell him that he’s okay, that he’s doing great. That he’s making her happy. “It’s wonderful,” you break the silence first, and you can’t keep the awe from lacing your words even if you tried. It was such a beautiful gesture, and you wanted to cry at the unfairness of it all. “Akari’s going to love it so much,” You don’t know if this is true - you haven’t seen Akari since you graduated, and she always seemed so distant with you during the very few occasions she visited with Kuroo. But you don’t feel bad about your half-truth, especially when he visible relaxes, his shoulders sagging in relief. 

Kenma follows suit and nods. “It’s very much your style too. And your tastes match hers.” 

There’s a light blush that dusts his cheeks, and he clears his throat. Your chest tightens as you realise you haven’t seen this side of Kuroo in years. Since your high school graduation, probably. “Thanks, guys. I’m so nervous”.

“Yeah, we can tell just by looking at you,” Kenma rolls his eyes, and it lightens the entire mood of the table. It’s been a while since all three of you were able to joke and laugh like this. Like before - before Akari had come in and joined the group. Before, Kuroo had slowly begun to forget everything little thing about you. 

You eye the way he runs a hand through his hair, trying to tame the locks that stubbornly stick up regardless of how much hair gel he applies. He complains about it often now, about how Akari doesn’t like it, about how it makes him look frumpy and messy. You long to tell him that it’s endearing, and you love how it makes him look so boyish yet handsome at the same time. Instead, you laugh, teasing him all the same because you no longer have the privilege to voice your true feelings. 

His phone vibrates on the table, and he picks it up, answering the incoming call. You don’t even need to hear the conversation to know who it is because there’s only one person in the world who can make him smile like that. It’s at times like these, you hate yourself for not telling him your feelings when you realised them. You would do anything to travel back in time and tell your silly sixteen-year-old heart that having him as your closest friend isn’t enough. That it will never be enough because now you were stuck between loving him forever and moving on. 

But since it’s impossible to change the past, you let yourself forget about the reality of the here and now for a moment. You let yourself imagine and escape to a place where you’re finally enough for someone like Kuroo, and a small part of you jumps up to hold onto a slither of hope that dangles right above your fingertips. That one day, just maybe, it could be true. 

It’s raining when you receive the news. It’s not the light type of rain that we hope for on days we don’t want to leave the house. It’s pouring heavily outside with dark thunderclouds. The sound of the rain beating down on your glass windows and doors is deafening. 

“She said yes!” 

Kuroo bursts in through your front door, laughing, his hair slick from the rain, and for a brief moment in time, you think he’s talking about something else. You’re transported to an alternate universe where he’s coming home to you. But then Kenma enters, and Akari follows suit quickly, her eyes bright and sparkling as she holds up her hand. 

There’s a ring on her finger.

Your mug slips from your hands, but you don’t hear the shatter of glass. Instead, you let out a delirious laugh because you really cannot believe you didn’t see this coming. Since when had you become so stupidly pathetic?

Kuroo and Akari mistake your laugh for one of delight, and you find some relief in the fact that one of your closest friends now knows so little about you. You head to the kitchen to grab a bottle and some glasses. You needed something to numb the pain. They needed something to celebrate. 

You don’t know how much time has passed, but it’s been long enough that Akari has dozed off, drunk and blissfully asleep on her fiancé’s shoulder. Kuroo drowns his glass, his eyes glazed over. It’s a clear sign that you needed to cut him off now while he’s still half sober. “You know,” he begins, and you look up to find him staring right at you, his finger intertwined lovingly with his fiancée’s. “Up until I met Akari, I always thought it’d be you,” 

Your heart stops. He might as well have torn out the organ and squeezed it dry. Everything feels like a blur and you can’t even bring yourself to form a response because his confession is truly downright criminal.

It’s the final nail on the coffin. 

Akari stirs in his arms, and he carries her up bridal style, everything else forgotten and claims that it was time to go home. He bids both you and Kenma goodbye and jokes about keeping an eye out for the wedding invitations soon. 

You force out a smile, but you’re so exhausted from pretending for all these years that you can’t help but wonder what would happen if you just didn’t. 

Kenma shuffles awkwardly at the door after Kuroo leaves and places a warm, comforting hand on your head. His voice is soft as usual but missing the undertones of nonchalance that you had grown used to. “I know Kuroo said what he did, but you have to understand.. Kuroo, he.. h-he doesn’t really…” he trails off, his voice getting quieter and quieter. 

You can’t help but take pity on him and quickly offer an escape from the impossibility of trying to sugarcoat the ugly truth that continuously returned to tear at your heartstrings. “I know, Kenma. I’m not silly,” you laugh, and you hope he can’t hear the hollowness in it. Your voice strains with the effort to keep it even, and when you swallow, you can feel sharp needles stabbing at your heart. “Men like Kuroo were never made for women like me,” 

And this time, you believe it. 

part two is here.

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[olivyh]

TWST FAMILY HCS PT2) Savanaclaw and Octavinelle

Feel free to tack on your own Hc’s too!!! I love reading what other people think and how their view of the characters and of Twisted Wonderland in general change from person to person!!!

Savanaclaw:

Leona:

-Farena: We already know Leona describes his brother as being carefree and relaxed, but deep under that I think he’s a deeply intelligent man (how can you run a kingdom and be stupid?). He tries his best to make time in his schedule for his wife and child, and even try to get bonding tike with his younger brother (which never works out well). He tries to teach Cheka as much as he can, often giving him little life lessons while they play games. He’s a very kind and straightforward man, often being blunt when he doesn’t mean to. He stands a little taller than Leona, with Orange hair similar to Chekas. He keeps his hair tied out of his face as much as he can.

-Sister-in-law Kingscholar: A strong and confident woman, not afraid to speak her mind when she wants to. She’s blunt and she’d let you know about it. She’s also very kind in her own way, often dragging Leona off and trying to have serious talks with him, which he appreciates but doesn’t show. She adores Cheka and often spoils him without meaning to, and will spoil Leona too (but indirectly in a way similar to Ace’s father’s). Also very intelligent and good at reading people. I think she stands a little shorter than Leona, but she holds herself higher, and he slouches, so it looks as if they’re the same height. She has long yellow hair (again, similar to the ends of Cheka’s) that she often ties back as well.

-Cheka: We already know him, so heres a few Hcs!: He sometimes asks his mother to do his hair the same way as Leona’s, and tries to do everything like him (such as standing like him, trying to deepen his voice to sound like him, throwing sand at various objects in the castle yelling “King’s Roar!!”)

Ruggie:

-Grandma Bucchi: As he said himself, a stern and prideful woman. I think she’d be on the stricter side, having to teach Ruggie how to survive rather than him having to face those hard truths alone. She likely stands a lot shorter, likely 5’0 (sorry to anyone whos that height), than most other beastwomen. She’s a lot physically stronger than she looks, often still trying to pick Ruggie up at his age. She tries to spoil him when she can, trying to make him relax after working and taking over the household chores (which he declines, still cleaning up when she’s not looking- which earns him a smack to the head with a broom). She’s also a prankster, quietly jumping out from corners and scaring Ruggie or one of the other children. I think she feels a lot of regret over seeing Ruggie grow up so fast in the environment that he had, but she’s the proudest grandma ever. Whenever he sends pictures back she boasts to everyone at home (“See that! That’s my grandson’s school! See that there! He plays magift and is one of the best on the team! Look there! He’s got those nice ceremony robes!”), and even boasts about him with what little baby pictures they have (“See him walking at such a young age? Isn’t he so strong?”) Will never stop talking about her grandson, ever.

-Neighborhood kids: I think they’re like little siblings to Ruggie, so I’m adding them. They try to tale over what Ruggie did when he was at home, helping people fix up their houses or entertaining the baby hyenas when their mothers have other things to do. They also leave gifts to Ruggie when he comes back, between little dolls they made, bracelets they thought he’d like, charms, or pretty rocks and leaves. He keeps all of the gifts, no matter how small.

-His mom (bc the poor woman deserves a spot)(Poor meaning unfortunate)(The more i think abt it, both. It means both. Bad time?): I think she looked a lot like him, but with brighter blue eyes than his. She was definitely a prankster at heart, leaving clever traps behind for any poor soul to get stuck in. She was a very hardworker much like her son, taking on any task she could find to help out her mother. I think she’d try to leave as much behind for Ruggie as she could, which would include little notes and scribbles about how she was feeling throughout her pregnancy and how excited she was for him. Ruggie also kept all of those safe and sound, in a small box he keeps in the corner of his room.

(Can you guess who my fav chara is?)

Jack:

-Grandma & Grandpa Howl: A very loving couple, who always make time out of their schedule for their grandchildren, whether it be for school events, emergencies, or if any one of them want to come by and talk. They met when Grandpa Howl got lost and wandered by Grandma Howl’s family’s cabin (which happens to be the one they, and the rest of the family, still live in to this day) and he spent the night. I think they fell in love at first sight :’)

-Mama Howl: A very soft and loving beastwoman who is willing to sacrifice anything for her children. She is often strict, and sometimes a chatterbox, but she always reminds her children to stay safe and that she loves them. She always pats their head or cheek when she walks by, even if she has to reach a little to plant a kiss on Jack’s forehead. I think her hair would be a little darker grey, and she’d definitely be a little more muscular and taller, reaching six ft one when standing straight up. She’d have the same yellow eyes as Jack, and her hair would be cropped shorter due to her still moving around a lot.

-Papa Howl: Very similar to Jack personality and appearance wise. He stands an inch or two shorter than Jack, but is still very muscular due to working around the house and in the woods (chopping wood for the campfire, dragging around tools, carrying three wolf pups at a time in his younger days (only one now wants to be carried, which hurts the poor man’s heart a bit)

-Baby brother Howl: Huffy and a little moody, but a hard worker even if he complains while doing it most of the time. That’s often with his parents, but when he does something with Jack he doesn’t complain a bit. He’s very attached to his older brother, looking up to him for his strength and strong morals. He often compares him to superheroes and star athletes in his mind, but sometimes it slips out, resulting in one very embarrassed wolf boy and another very flattered wolf boy, ignore their wagging tails, it means nothing. I think he stands pretty tall for a preteen, around 5’7-5’8 and growing taller by the day. Same hair and eye color as Jack. Acts like he doesn’t like to play games with his younger sister but will never turn down a game of tag.

-Baby sister Howl: An absolute sweetheart. She just wants the best for her family and will do whatever she can to make what they want happen. Jack is hungry? Good thing she made her special dessert (it’s a poptart with whipped cream messily piled on top with sprinkles and literal sugar cubed wedged in it, but don’t tell her you don’t like it, please she’d actually bawl). Her other older brother is tired? She can get him extra blankets! Mama needs help cleaning? She can mop (she really just throws water on the floor and praises herself for a job well done). Papa need to cut wood? She can- no, she can’t. Please don’t give her an axe. She’ll cheer him from the sidelines with a song she made up just for him instead! She has their mother’s grey hair and father’s dark brown eyes, and loves to do her hair like the princesses she sees on Tv! (Yes, Jack will wear a too-small dress and Tiara if his sister wants to play princess. No, he will not let anyone take pictures.)

Octavinelle:

Tweels:

-Mama Leech: At first glance, a very kind woman with soft eyes. Willing to open her arms to anyone who might need help. Then, a terrifying grin similar to Floyd’s as that poor unfortunate soul realizes the trap they’d been thrown in. She’s very kind and patient towards both her boys and husband, as well as their friends (even of she is on guard near their friends, throwing a few hollow threats to see if it’d scare them away)(She doesn’t like to share her babies). She dotes on the tweels as much as possible, indulging im whatever curiosity they may have. Floyd wants to know what going through riptide is like? They leave tomorrow to find one. Jade wants to know more about life on land? She’ll find as many books as possible and ask (threaten) people for their land belongings. She knows when too far is too far though, and is very skilled at reeling the boys back in if they get to that point. Will always call them her little guppies, no matter how big they get. I think she’d have a teal bob on top, with the underside of her hair being black (which makes her hair look color changing when she swims). Im her human form shes only a few inches shorter than her boys, ranging around the same as Jack’s mother.

-Papa Leech: The definition of old Hollywood New York mob boss. Strict and blunt about his interests and problems, and not afraid to cause any problems if provoked. When the tweels were younger and they’d wrestle and bite at him, he’d throw them off him easily, telling them they need to work to beat him, even if he was impressed by their teamwork at first. Will die to protect his family, and was likely put in that position many times in the past due to his uh… business. He values his wife and children more than anything, and has done everything in his power in the past to protect them from harm. When they went to NRC at first, he felt defeated and almost wanted to beg them to stay safe with him (not that his pride would allow it).(Both the tweels can see through his facade easily)

Azul:

-Grandma ‘grotto: A very stern and prim octomermaid. What she says goes in the Ashengrotto house, and she often catches herself making unnecessary comments. She does apologize. Also a very loving grandmother towards Azul, often babying him whenever possible (doing the classic “you’re not eating enough here take some more” grandma move)(She will smooch his face whenever possible when there are no business clients nearby). Tries to boost his confidence since she knew about what was happening to him (Chances are she went through the same thing- being an octomer as well) and dod her best to protect him and make him happy. She taught him how to write with his tentacles and encouraged him to do his best in everything he does.

-Mama ‘grotto: Another businesslady in the front absolute softie in the back situation. Adores her son and is incredibly proud of how far he’s come.I think she looks identical to Azul, but more heavyset and, of course, female. She coddled Azul as much as possible, which worked out well with baby Azul’s clingy nature. She had no shame in walking around with the little guy stuck to her (unless he smacked a tentacle to her face when she was working on her restaurant), and made sure everyone knew what a good boy he was. She would show pictures to everyone (similar to Ruggie’s grandma), but respects his wishes in wanting to hide pictures of his past. She still shows anyone who asks pictures of him at NRC (compliments to the twins, who send her updates when her son is busy), and will tell everyone how smart he is and how much he’s grown.

-Step-Papa grotto: A very professional man in every aspect of his life, which stretches to his relationship with his stepson. When he learns about the contracts and Azuls UM, he’s over the moon with how happy he is. He swam around with a little more pep than usual, flicking his tail and flaring out his fins the more and more Azul told him. He helps him reword and format his contracts to his advantage, and is always willing to talk with him about Mostro Lounge or (on rare occasion) some memories before Step papa Ashengrotto met Mama Ashengrotto (which always make him happy that Azul trusts him enough). I think he’d be a pretty generic looking Mer, with an average looking tail and such

[throughtheinterstices]

for the one who does not wear his heart on his sleeves (feat. oikawa tooru's onee-san)

❝ oikawa tooru does not wear his heart on his sleeves. oikawa toura, his older sister, knows this well. ❞

characters. oikawa toura, tooru’s onee-san; oikawa t. x fem!reader

genre. drama, comedy, slight romance

word count. 4.8k words

warnings. themes of teenage pregnancy

a/n. i wanted to delve a bit into tooru's character and thought, "who else would let us get to know him better than his older sister?" reblogs are appreciated. and as always, i’d be happy to hear your thoughts.

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3

及川 Oikawa reaching the river

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. This didn’t stop girls from clinging on to them, however.

Oikawa Toura contemplated on this every time her younger brother got himself a girlfriend.

She figured that his handsome looks, good grades, athletic talent, and irresistible charm make up for it. (Not that she would ever admit it to her younger brother. Even then, Tooru wouldn’t be able to get all the credit. The Oikawa genes were impeccably attractive, so they all possessed the same assets anyway.)

The girls started to flock him when he was really young. Tooru was a cute and energetic kid. He was always running around with a volleyball that he loved to toss and a unique boyish charm that made him beguiling.

It was no wonder that his first grade classmate in elementary always lent Tooru her princess stickers-filled pencils whenever he “forgot” to bring his own, that Tooru weighed surprisingly heavier one time in elementary school because he always had extra to eat during meal times (courtesy of his third grade seatmate), that Tooru went home blushing one time during pre-school because a cute girl kissed him on the cheek. Toura, herself, was amused by his early puppy-love kind of escapades.

But as leaves changed color and as the siblings experienced more that life had to offer, Oikawa Toura found herself concerned about her brother. Tooru, as a kid, was a fluffy cinnamon roll that everyone wanted to devour. As a teenager, he was something else. He was growing well into the magnetic Oikawa looks, with the towering height, the playful grins, the captivating russet eyes. Partner it with his fastidious methods of fixing up, he was practically teenage royalty.

But as all teenagers were, it was easy for all the attention to get into his head. So Toura took it upon herself to keep him on his toes and to give him a few slaps back to reality.

-

“Ouch!” Tooru recoiled from his sister’s hand. “What was that for?”

“Stop acting like a superstar!” Toura hissed, her eyes molding into the famous Oikawa glare that she inherited from her mother. She sneaked a glance toward the flock of girls they passed by a second earlier. “You’re not only embarrassing me, you’re also embarrassing yourself!”

Tooru raised his hands in defense. “I was just waving! Is it so bad to be polite?”

“Being courteous and narcissistic are two different things!”

“Me? Narcissistic?” Tooru put a palm to his heart.

“Yeah! I’ve heard a few things about you lately!” Toura accused.

“Ya!” Tooru fished for his phone. “When did Iwa-chan become so talkative?”

Toura swiped his phone away in a flash. “You think Iwa’s the only one who notices your obnoxiousness? A lot of different people come to me just to put you in your place! Do them a favor and turn it down a bit, huh?”

Tooru huffed in disbelief. “You? Just who would do that? Everyone’s scared of you!”

Murder. That was what Toura was going to do. “What did you just say?”

-

Toura most often gave her brother tough love. It really couldn’t be avoided with a sibling as exasperating as Tooru. It was what his thick head needed. At first, the elder sister was frustrated whenever her brother would brush her off, would be so defensive, would grumble blatantly to the side, and sometimes would even run away at the very sight of his “nagging” sister.

Later on, these younger brother tendencies would put a knowing smile on Toura’s face. Toura thought that she would be forever pulling Tooru by the ear, yapping at him to “be nice” to his juniors or to “treat that girl well.” Apparently, forever was a bit too much. She realized this once during a phone call with her brother’s best friend.

-

“Iwa!” Toura called into her phone, as she exited her the room of her son, who was finishing his homework.

“Hai, onee-san!” the person on the other line coughed.

“How are you?” she chirped, entering the kitchen. “I heard you’re one of the main players for the team this year! Congratulations!”

Talking to Tooru’s friends was one of the joys of her life. When they first met her, she might have gone overboard with the fierce act and left them terrified. Through the years, they slowly got over it but she was still her mother’s daughter who inherited her temper. Tooru’s friends became witnesses to her losing it a couple of times so she couldn’t really blame them for being careful around her. Toura used their wariness to have fun once in a while.

“Ah, thank you very much,” Iwaizumi answered, brief and respectful.

Toura grinned, whipping out some strawberries from the fridge. “Iwa! You’re so polite, unlike some people I know!”

Iwaizumi hurried to reply. “Don’t worry, onee-san, Oikawa’s on his way home.”

Such loyal friends, Tooru. “Hmm? I didn’t ask for him.”

“But you were going to… right?” Iwaizumi’s hesitation was too adorable.

“Yes, sorry to bother you all the time, Iwa.” Toura tried to keep her tone sweet. “Let me just ask, is there a particular reason as to why this onee-san has to make excuses for her little brother’s lateness?”

If he was bullying the first years again…

“He’s helping the first years with their serves,” Iwaizumi said. “Sometimes with their spikes too.”

Huh. “Really?”

“Hai.”

“And how’s that been going so far?” Toura asked.

“Hmm… I can’t say really…” Iwaizumi said. “A few days of practice won’t really show much results but somehow the first years don’t seem too lost. Though sometimes they do seem irked by Oikawa’s stupid perso—”

The other line went silent.

Toura laughed. How cute.

“It’s okay, Iwa! I have firsthand experience with that stupid personality of his. Totally understandable.”

She could hear his breath of relief.

“Okaa-san!” Takeru’s voice echoed from the hall.

“I have to go, Iwa. I’ll cover for him but tell him he has to wash the dishes for two weeks.”

Toura hung up, shaking her head at the thought of her (not so) agitating brother.

-

Though Tooru put up a prickly front, deep down inside, Toura knew her brother always listened to the important things she said. With this, Toura was relieved. At the same time, she was concerned. Rivers looked shallow from those who viewed it from afar. A closer look would let people’s eyes see the depth of its waters. What Toura worried about was that people only saw her brother for the things that were skin deep. Worse, that they only loved him for these things.

Tooru was more than those. If only people looked a little closer and deeper.

冬麗 Toura winter, beautiful

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Oikawa Toura felt she was partly to blame.

-

She was eighteen, just about to enter college. It was the spring of life. New beginnings. New opportunities. Adversities would come her way. That was inevitable. She expected them to come like light rainfall, showering her days with just enough raindrops to make every color vibrant and with just enough trouble for her to appreciate the good and to grow steadily as she went. She was an Oikawa, adept with the woes of the water. She would conquer it just like she did all the other times, with the cutting russet eyes of her father and the fiery disposition of her mother.

At least, she was supposed to.

Spring was the season of new life. She was prepared for all of the changes that were coming, all except for the birth of the new life growing inside of her. Toura was eighteen when she found out she was pregnant with Takeru. Tooru was nine.

The light drizzle she was anticipating was nothing compared to the storms that came.

The strongest downpour surged one night in the kitchen of the Oikawa household. Lights all around the house were dimmed. Windows were shut. Doors were locked. Tooru was tucked impatiently to bed earlier than usual.

All throughout the night until the wee hours of the morning, the usual sanctuary of home-cooked meals and family banter became a cold court of trial. Eyes were bloodshot: Toura’s from crying, her mother’s from exhaustion, her father’s from anger. Hands were shaking: Toura’s from hopelessness, her mother’s from pity, her father’s from disappointment.

Toura had never seen her parents the way they were that night. Her mother was normally the raging one, with all the scathing beration and the matching fiery gaze. That time, it was her father, her typically sarcastic laid back father, who was blazing with fury.

By the early morning, all backs were slumped. All voices were hoarse.

As Toura crawled her way back into her room, she heard the hurried shutting of a door.

Tooru was awake.

At that time, Toura didn’t have the energy to dwell on it. She just dragged herself to bed and hoped to forget, even just for a while.

-

As much as her parents tried to act ordinarily, Tooru was an intelligent kid. He heard the raised voices at midnight when they thought he was asleep. He heard his sister’s muffled cries as she crawled her way back into her room. He noticed her carefully hidden swollen eyes in the morning. He saw through everyone’s strained smiles the weeks that followed.

Keeping true to his family name, as the river followed the path the soil has carved for it, he followed the flow that his family had created. He never questioned the changes that happened within their home and their family. Yet, he never remained idle either.

-

The season was spring. However, it had never been more winter for Oikawa Toura. The sun was still high and shining down on the secluded playground near the Oikawa household; even so, Toura had never been so cold. She was donning her favorite sweater and held tightly toward her father’s coat (for comfort or for warmth, she was not sure) but it was to no avail.

Toura was seated on a park bench, with a child blooming inside her womb and the father sitting beside her.

The “father.”

Among the excellent genes of the Oikawas were some not-so-pleasant ones, such as sarcasm or hot tempers (this comes from the mother’s side though). Stupidity was not one of them. Oikawa Toura could take a hint. Hints, to be more accurate.

After dropping the bomb on her boyfriend, after having a long crying session with him, after listening to all his promises of “we’re going to figure this out,” after seeing him off as he shipped himself to Tokyo and she stayed in Miyagi, after weeks of pruned text messages, and after complete utter silence in the end, Oikawa Toura knew that he did not want to be a “father.”

Toura sighed. “Just get to the point.”

She did not even turn to know that he had whirled around to face her. That was how much she knew him. Loved him.

Hell.

“I—can’t.” The crack in his voice broke her. Or maybe it was the meaning of his words. Or maybe, she had been long broken, way back from the moment he first chose to leave.

Well, this time, I’m the one leaving.

“Okay,” Toura whispered. It was the most difficult thing to do, to pull herself up and walk away from him.

“Wait—”

Toura halted. She almost turned back and buried herself in his arms.

If not for the whirling volleyball, the sound of the collision, and the groan.

She did pivot her head a bit, just enough to see her boyf—ex-boyfriend crumpled on the floor, his hands clutching at some very painful goods.

Before she could do anything, her hand was tugged by a familiar grasp and towed away from the scene.

Right there, Oikawa Tooru, with one arm clutching a volleyball tucked and the other on her sister, was walking briskly, a resolute look on his face.

Toura did not exactly know the right response. She had always been a slave to her emotions. She knew, because she was going to become a mother soon, she had to let this go, but to hell with it, there was still time.

“Hey,” she found herself saying. “Nice kill.”

Tooru swiveled in surprise. Just as quickly, irritation morphed in his features. “I was aiming for his head actually.”

“Well then, actually aim for what you hit next time.”

After a long while, Oikawa Toura found herself grinning.

-

At eighteen, Oikawa Toura had to face the consequences of her actions. She had to endure their relatives’ disappointment and mocking. She had to put up with the whispers around their town. Sendai’s golden girl was ruined. The girls who used to want to befriend her disappeared. The guys who ogled at her never looked at her again.

Spring, summer, and autumn all felt like winter to Toura. How symbolic. She finally lived up to her name.

Oikawa Toura. River. Winter.

What exactly happened to the river during winter? It went cold. Sometimes, it even froze. That was how she survived it all. Oikawa Toura chose to harden herself to everyone’s frigidity, to life’s cold harsh truth.

Tooru was aware of it all. At nine years old, he learned that if he showed vulnerability, he wouldn’t leave the battlefield intact. Especially in their world. If he showed his heart to the wrong people, he was bound to get hurt.

So at nine, Oikawa Tooru buried his heart deep within himself and only allowed a few people in.

徹 Tooru to go through, committing to one thing to the end

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. His love was rare.

When it came to love, Tooru was one who used his head. He only gave his love to the people and the things that he knew would be worth it. This was why he revealed his heart only to a few chosen.

To his family: his nonchalant father, his fierce mother, his headstrong sister, his cute nephew.

To his close friends: his reliable Iwa-chan, his bright Makki, his good-natured Mattsun.

And of course, to volleyball.

However, even with all the preventive measures her younger brother had taken, Oikawa Toura knew that it could not protect him from heartbreak.

-

“I’m going to bed. Already ate.”

Toura watched as Tooru climbed the stairs with heavy feet, sagged shoulders, and defeated eyes.

She gave an inquiring look to their mother. “He got benched today. In their game with Shiratorizawa.”

“Oh,” Toura replied.

She heard her son’s light footsteps running towards the stairs. “Toowu! Toowu! Let’s pway!”

She caught Takeru before he managed to reach the second floor and shushed him. “Tooru-ojisan isn’t feeling well today, Takeru.”

Toura watched her son pout. She mussed his hair and said, “You can play with him tomorrow. Hopefully, he’ll be better by then.”

-

Toura was frantically scrolling through different contacts on her phone when Tooru came in and announced, “I’ll take Takeru to his volleyball lessons.”

His older sister stared at him, dumbfounded.

“On Monday, right?” Tooru said, rummaging through the fridge.

Toura was confused. “I thought your girlfriend was going to introduce you to her parents on Monday.”

“Nah,” Tooru answered, his fingers shifting back and forth from the banana milk to strawberry milk.

“What do you mean ‘nah?’ I thought you really liked this girl?” Toura said.

“Apparently, I liked volleyball more and she grew tired,” Tooru replied, finally getting his hands on the banana milk.

Toura scoffed. “Well, I never even liked her in the first place.”

“I know.” Tooru drilled his straw through his drink. “Don’t worry about Takeru, nee-san. I’ll take care of him.”

Tooru moved to leave the room. Toura called him back. “Oi. You okay?”

Her younger brother paused for half a second—half a second too long—before turning back. He waved his hand as if to disregard the entire thing. “Of course. Onee-san, I’m Oikawa Tooru.”

Toura rolled her eyes at her grinning brother. It was when Tooru left that his older sister felt more unsettled.

-

He was Oikawa Tooru. He tried to show everybody that he just brushed off his worries. He had inherited their father’s devil-may-care façade and his tendency to mask his problems by joking about them. But when he’s alone, Toura knew that Tooru took everything hard.

Toura wished she could spare her brother the pain because she knew how cruel life was. She knew she could not.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Then you came along.

Out of all the girls Tooru had had, you were different. First of all, you weren’t even his girlfriend. You were just a friend. Someone who lashed out on him for punching a vending machine and later on, found your way into his inner circle.

Safe to say, Oikawa Toura was quite alarmed, skeptical, and just a little bit curious.

-

“So you mean to say that you really didn’t know who he was?” Toura asked you. The two of you were sitting beside the makeshift court on the backyard of the Oikawa household, watching Tooru and his friends play volleyball with Takeru.

You buried your head into your hands. “He told you?”

“Psh.” Matsukawa appeared in front of you. “Mr. I’m-Better-Than-Everyone-Here? Of course not!”

“I told her!” Hanamaki said, taking a swig of the tea you and Toura bought.

Toura held her palm up for a high five. Hanamaki eagerly returned it.

“Ya! My own friends! How could you?” Tooru barked, hurling a volleyball towards them.

Iwaizumi easily dodged it, choosing carefully among the pastries laid out. “How could we not?”

“Aww, was wittle Toowu’s pwide hurt?” Toura teased.

Tooru made a face and turned to his nephew.

“Look Takeru, this is not something you should copy from your mother!”

Toura retaliated, hugging her son close to her. “Takeru, unlike your oji-san, you should stay humble, okay?”

Takeru, used to her mother and uncle’s banter, wiggled free of his mother’s grasp, ignored the two of them, and dug into the pastries you bought.

Toura tried not to be hurt by her son’s actions and diverted her attention to you instead.

Resting her cheek against her palm, she asked, “How did the two of you actually, well, talk to each other then? I mean, YOU DIDN’T KNOW WHO HE WAS.” She added the emphasis just to irk her brother.

Effective. He was staring daggers at her.

Lifting your face from your hands, you answered, “Well, he was out punching vending machines by the gym—"

Toura wheeled towards Tooru’s direction. “You punched a vending machine?”

“I was having a bad day,” Tooru muttered, suddenly preoccupied with snacks.

Briefly, his gaze shifted to you. You looked back at him with sympathetic understanding.

Hmm…

-

Mornings were hectic in the Oikawa household. Everyone had somewhere they needed to be. Movement filled the house and a string of “ittekimassu” followed. On this particular Monday, the two siblings were the last to go.

As they were putting on their shoes, Toura was intrigued by the two bento boxes Tooru had packed.

“How hungry are you?” Toura remarked.

“The other one’s for the smart girl of the group,” Tooru said, standing up and fixing his hair in front of the mirror. “She’s too engrossed in her books that sometimes, she forgets to eat.”

Clicking her heels in place, Toura asked, “Just who is she to you, Tooru?”

Tooru’s hands froze. “What kind of question is that?”

Toura gave him a pointed look.

“She’s my best friend!”

“I thought Iwa was your best friend.”

“He is!” Tooru exclaimed. “This is different!”

“I’ll say!” Toura turned her back to him. “Ittekimasu!”

“Ya! Onee-san!”

-

Toura rushed into the halls of her former alma mater. Her steps quickened as she caught sight of the infirmary.

“How’s my brother?” Toura nearly shoved her face into the school nurse’s. “Will he still be able to play?”

This was Tooru’s second knee injury. It would excruciatingly break his heart if his volleyball dreams ended here.

“I can’t say,” the nurse said, breaking the news softly. “He needs to see a doctor first.”

Toura’s breath hitched. “Where is he?”

“In the other room.” The nurse pointed to the door of the adjoining room.

Toura nodded. She turned the knob slowly and quietly, just in case Tooru was asleep.

He wasn’t. Toura heard his muffled sobs before she saw your figure tightly holding on to her younger brother. His shoulders were shaking. It seemed like you were the only thing keeping him together.

“This is the one thing I’m good at!” Tooru cried. “Hard work! And even in this, I failed!”

“Shhh,” you say. “It’s not a failure. It’s a setback.”

“Yeah, right.” He pulled back from your embrace. “What if… What if this is the end for me? What if all those years of proving I’m worth something, of chasing after Ushiwaka, of outrunning Kageyama… What if it all just ends here?”

Toura remained before the door. She waited to hear what you would say. Personally, she didn’t know how to respond. How does one answer to that?

“Then let it end here,” you said. Toura gasped.

Tooru’s eyes bulged.

“Chasing Ushiwaka, beating Kageyama… Let that all end here. Why did you choose to play volleyball?”

Something dawned in Tooru. “I… love to play volleyball… Always have…”

“That’s right. You love volleyball. It sharpens your senses. It makes you feel alive. I’ve seen it. This is why you play volleyball.” Your voice was as unwavering as you gaze.

You softened. “It’s not going to end here, Tooru. No matter what happens, even if it takes millions of therapy sessions, I know and you know that you’re not going to let it end here.”

Toura carefully closed the door, not wanting to intrude in their intimate discussion. Before she did, she saw the change in her younger brother’s previously defeated expression. It was now hopeful.

She did not know what would happen next. Perhaps, hope was what he needed most. Toura felt most grateful for your presence in that moment.

-

The crowd screamed as one of Tooru’s serves reached Shiratorizawa’s side of the court unreceived. First set won by Aoba Jousai!

Toura joined them with her own set of cheers. “That’s my baby brother right there!”

Takeru pretended as if he wasn’t related to her. You erupted in laughter beside her.

Toura faced you, flashing you a broad smile.

“I think he heard you!” you shout, pointing to the scowl on Tooru’s face, evident even from the stands.

Toura stuck her tongue out at her brother. It was obvious where he got that from.

To add fuel to the fire, Toura gestured to his jersey and tilted her head towards you, as if to say, “So you gave her your jersey, huh?”

Tooru reddened and avoided his gaze, running uncharacteristically towards his teammates.

Toura smirked. Best friend my ass.

“I told him his hard work would pay off,” she heard you whisper. “He sells himself so short sometimes.”

Toura watched as you mumble things to yourself, touched by your affection towards her brother.

-

Out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you saw him for who he was, not for who he was trying to let everyone see. You weren’t starry-eyed for him. You didn’t let him off the hook from all of his pettiness and faults. Somehow, you inspired him to rise above his inferiorities and become better. Remarkably, you were able to let him break down all the barriers that he put up.

It was safe to say that out of all the girls that Tooru had had, you were the one his older sister liked best.

Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. Because he knew that love was pain.

“Tadaima,” Tooru called softly.

It was the night before his flight to Argentina. A few minutes ago, the Oikawa household was a boisterous place, filled with Oikawa relatives and Tooru’s teammates and friends. The clamor earlier was the opposite of the silence that echoed as Tooru slipped in.

“I’m here,” Toura called from the backyard.

“What are you doing here?” Tooru asked, taking a seat beside his onee-san.

Toura puckered her lips. “I was waiting for my favorite baby brother.”

“I’m your only brother,” Tooru pointed out. “And will you please stop it with the ‘baby?’ I’m an adult now! I’m even going to Argentina tomorrow.”

“I know.” Toura sighed. “Can’t you be my baby brother a bit longer? It feels like you’re running further and further away.”

Tooru was torn between repulsion and affection. “Who are you and what have you done to my monster onee-san?”

That earned him a smack.

“Just tell me you’re going to miss me,” Tooru said, rubbing the spot that his onee-san hit.

“Tch.” Toura rolled her eyes and diverted her gaze toward the makeshift court the two of them had built back when they were younger. How time flew. Now, he was off to play in bigger courts.

“So…” Toura started.

“So?” Tooru asked.

“I’m guessing, you’re still friends?”

“Hmm?”

“With the girl you walked home earlier, your best friend, the love of your life.” Toura raised her hands in exaggeration.

Tooru had a solemn look on his face. “I’m eighteen, onee-san. I don’t even know what love is.”

Right then and there, she caught a glimpse of the nine year-old fear that had been plaguing his heart. Toura always thought that people can only inherit things from their parents. Apparently, they can inherit things from their siblings too. Just like hand-me-down clothes worn out through time, Tooru had witnessed his elder sister’s experiences and acquired her pain.

Because of this, she knew he was mistaken. He knew too much about love. That love wasn’t just stolen kisses, first dates, holding hands, and smiles. It was pain too. It was the fear of not being enough, of being left behind.

It was true that love was anguish. But after nine years, Toura was able open her eyes to different aspects of love. She found it in her son’s laughter greeting her after a tiresome day. In her father’s jokes during tense moments. In her mother’s complaints about anything and everything. In her brother’s steadfastness especially when she needed it.

She saw it in the way Tooru looked at you.

“I doubt that,” Toura said.

“I doubt a lot of things,” Tooru replied.

“But never anything with her,” his elder sister said softly, looking at him in her periphery.

Tooru shook his head.

“You love her,” she said.

Tooru whispered, defeated. “I do.”

-

The next day brought a sense of déjà vu to Toura. She felt like she’s lived the scene before. A boy was leaving, off to chase his dreams. A girl was being left behind, to make do of what she had.

She had to remind herself that this was different. It was her brother, always keeping true to his name. He would go through everything life had to offer and he would commit to the things that he loved until the end. He was kind in his core, loyal to the ones he loved. He was not the scumbag who couldn’t make up his mind nine years ago.

It was you, the wisest and most understanding person Toura has ever met. You thought of everything carefully and thought of everyone deeply. You were not the naïve girl who acted impulsively and just hoped for the best.

“Just try and forget me, smart girl. I’ll come for you when you least expect it,” Toura heard her brother say.

Toura always felt the need to guard her brother from the world, especially after all the brutality that she has experienced. No matter how hard she tried, this was something she could never accomplish.

When it was time for Tooru to enter his gate, Tooru looked back, just once, just at you. You returned his gaze and offered an exaggerated smile. Tooru laughed.

This was the last image of himself that he left in the minds of those he loved before he left. You made that happen. Toura wished that you were there to make him laugh all the time, even when it was difficult for him.

So before the world shifted again, while you were still within Toura’s reach, she made a silent plea, an older sister’s prayer for her little brother—

“Oikawa Tooru was not one to wear his heart on his sleeves. But he had given you his heart. Please, keep it safe.”

—this is somehow related to my other oikawa fic HERE

HAIKYUU MASTERLIST • AO3 LINK

[troubatrain]

the times with the kids...

two blurbs following want me to want you

read the rest here!

You’re going to marry that boy right?

You bit the inside of your mouth, holding in the smile at your grandmother’s words. You were both watching Matthew and your youngest cousin, far off at the end of your driveway so Matthew could teach him how to slapshot. You adored watching your boyfriend with kids, the way he always wore a smile and took the time to chat even if someone interrupted the middle of a date you were on. It never bothered you, how could it when you got to fawn over Matthew’s kid voice?

“One day…” You muse, smiling at Matthew picking up your cousin in celebration once he finally hit the back of the net. It was easy to daydream about those sorts of things with him, because he’d always made it so clear he was planning his future with you in mind. You could see it so clearly, a few little Matthew’s running around with wild curls on their heads and an attitude just like their father. Matthew would probably coach their teams, insisting that he wouldn’t take it too seriously but you knew what kind of competitiveness ran through that family - he’d be the most annoying peewee hockey parent in the world.

“Matty’s the best Y/N, look at my shot!” Your cousin exclaims, his front tooth missing so everything he said sounded just a bit funny. He showed you his stick, hands in the position they should after he tested Matthew’s patience of the left and right thing, “He’s the best coach in the world!”

“Best coach? I don’t know about that,” You tease, Matthew scoffing behind you when he was about to plant a kiss on your cheek.

“Coached you through sucking my dick last night,” Matthew whispers in your ear, sending a sweet smile to

your grandmother like he didn’t just tell you that. Your grandmother got up to chase after your cousin, Matthew slipping into the seat next to you while a hand landed on your thigh, “What’s on your mind?”

“How’d you know?” You ask, tilting your head to the side while Matthew chuckled.

“I spent years of my life staring at you,” Matthew admits, pressing his lips against your head, “Hope I get to spend the rest of it doing the same, so what’s up?”

“You just looked good over there you know?” You admit, leaning your head against Matthew’s shoulder, “It’s like you’re never bothered when someone asks you to teach them something or sign something when we’re out.”

“I’m not,” Matthew shrugs, he didn’t think much about it, or the way it conveyed to you that you were a good person, “You sure that’s all you’re thinking about?”

“Sometimes when you do that I think about us and the future and that stupid joke Brady made about us raising winners,” You admit, tucking your head into his neck. Matthew gave your thigh a squeeze, encouraging you to finish your thought, “You’ll make a good dad one day, that’s all.”

“As if our kids won’t have a fucking superhero for a mother,” Matthew jokes, “They’re playing hockey though.”

“They’ll do whatever they want,” You remind him, poking at the dimple in his cheek, “And if they’re smart it won’t be hockey.”

“They’re my kids they definitely won’t be smart-

***

You weren’t meant for the cold.

It was a beautiful sunny day in St. Louis, and instead of laying by the pool you were freezing while you walked through the same practice rink Matthew skated at his entire life. All for a mouthguard he didn’t even use let alone need.

“Are you lost?” Brady chirps, leaning against the boards while Matthew leads an overwhelming group of ten year olds around the ice. You’d forgotten that he was helping a camp today, the emphasis on his mouthguard making more sense.

“No I’m just being a good girlfriend,” You deadpan, crossing your arms and looking at Brady. Your attention on Brady was gone quickly, replaced by the little girl who was sitting on the bench with a pout on her face. She reminded you of yourself, too stubborn to go play with the boys despite being lumped together with them constantly because you were a far better athlete than the girls in your class and you swore your gym teacher had it out for you.

“Your turn Brady,” Matthew tilts in his head to the middle of the ice, where the cone drills Matthew set up were getting out of control way quicker than he expected. He smiles at you, leaning across the boards to press a kiss to your lips, “Thank you so much…I couldn’t have these kids thinking I don’t wear my mouthguard.”

“You don’t,” You remind him, causing Matthew to chuckle from the ice. You bit your lip, having an internal debate with yourself for a moment, “Can I have your hoodie?”

“Are you going to stay?” Matthew questions, pressing the back of his hand to your forehead, “Are you sick?”

“No I just… does she not want to play?” You ask, averting your gaze to that same little girl, trying not to draw too much attention to her that she very obviously didn’t want.

“I can’t get her out here,” Matthew hides the grin threatening to grace his face, his heart skipping a beat at the way you were so concerned about that one kid. That’s how you were, constantly trying to grow your game for the next little girl who declares she’s going pro one day, and it made Matthew’s heart grow four times its size. It was admirable, and Matthew swore it constantly made him a better man. You push Matthew back onto the ice, telling him that Brady was definitely losing control of the kids and that you’d stay for a little bit.

“Lots of boys here huh?” You ask, sitting next to the girl who’d been staring at you since Matthew skated over to the bench. She blushed, pushing a piece of hair behind her and looking up at you.

“My mom said I might be the only girl, but I don’t want to play with the boys, they never think I’m any good,” She admits, kicking her stick with her skate and looking down.

“I used to be like that, Matthew actually teased me for the same reason, but between you and me, I think he was just jealous that I was faster than him,” You tell her, bumping your shoulder with hers and holding out your hand, “I’m Y/N, by the way.”

“I’m Maggie,” She nods, finally breaking out a grin. You didn’t see it, but Matthew hadn’t stopped watching you, his eyes stuck on you while you talked to that girl in hopes you could get her to play. His heart beat a little faster, all of those dreams he had about a family seemed to be prominent at times like these. It was easy to imagine it, a few kids who had a drive like yours and hopefully your smile too.

“Everybody boo Matthew for staring at his girlfriend!” Brady hollers, an army of ten year old boys booing after him. Matthew rolled his eyes, pushing his brother in the chest while the kids cheered for the chaos they hoped would ensue.

“Will you stay if I go out there?” Maggie asks you, dragging your attention away from Brady’s chirping and the potential wrestling match that was about to start. You were cold, and this ideally wouldn’t have been the way you spent a day off, but Maggie’s big brown eyes had you weak. You nod, telling her to go out there and show them who’s better, smiling when she skated away.

You froze at that rink an entire hour before they finally got the last kid off the ice, Maggie waving goodbye to you excitedly while Matthew mentioned to her mother that there’s a girls hockey program at another rink nearby if they wanted to check that out. You waited for Matthew to clean up, bidding Brady a good bye after he decided he didn’t need to help clean up because Matthew spent the whole time gawking at you.

“Maggie seemed to like you,” Matthew hums, stacking up the last of his cones and pausing to kiss you, “She wouldn’t even look at Brady and I.”

“There were too many boys here for her, she said they don’t think she’s good enough to play with them,” You hum, pulling away from Matthew’s lips slightly, “Can’t say I don’t relate.”

“I already apologized for that,” Matthew whines, smiling when you caught his humor and laughed at his reaction, “Think you’ll go that easy on our kids? Or whatever peewee soccer team they play on that you finessed your way into coaching?”

“We’re having kids? And a soccer team?” You ask, raising your eyebrows at your boyfriend who was very obviously getting ahead of himself, “Are you going to be the team dad who brings orange slices?”

“I actually hope that’s my only job after I retire...and loving you.”

“You’re just trying to get laid.”

“No, we’re just practicing for the real thing.”

[bandgeek4life8]

Guardians - chapter two the lost city of atlantis

Chapter 1

WC: 3, 453

Season 1, Episode 2: The Lost City of Atlantis

Previously on Guardian in Jim's POV "The Nightmares have emerged once more." Pabbie told everyone.

"GREAT GRONKA MORKA!!" Blinky exclaimed.

"And they attend to assimilate an army. They already have the witch Gothel, the bogeyman Pitch Black, the dragon tamer Drago Bludvist with his mother of dragons Red Death, the prince Hans of Southern Isles and Duke of Weselton, the cursed bear Mor'du, the Pirate "Captain Hook" Killian James, and the Boggan Mandrake. And I have a list of who they want. From my visions. But only two people I wish to say it to: Vendel and... James Lake Jr. Because she wishes it."

"Who wishes for me to know?" I asked him.

"Starling."

Some people are chosen for this life and have no choice but to accept its transgressions. Others spend their life completely in the dark about this life we lead. Some, like me, choose to live this life. It is a lot of work for anybody. Not just anybody can get into this life and survive its trials and tribulations. But we were born for this. To become guardians. But I'm not a guardian yet. I'm just an apprentice.

|{[INSERT_OPENING_SEQUENCE]}|

"Welcome to the first meeting of the Druidia Order." I announced.

"Did you have to name us after a planet in your favorite Star Wars movie?" asked the raven-haired time-traveller Wilbur Robinson.

"Spaceballs is not a Star Wars movie, Wilbur." Currently undercover spy, Walter Beckett told him.

Wilbur rolled his eyes. "Whatever."

"Did your dad teach you anything about Star Wars?" asked blonde enpath/ hockey-player from Wisconsin, Riley Anderson.

"Only that he hated the sequels, he loves the originals, and respects what the prequels tried to do." Wilbur said.

"Can we please get to the topic at hand please?" I asked everyone.

Everyone in the room grumbled out a yes and we continued with the precedings. Wow. That sounds way too formal for me.

"Well what can we do? We already made allies with the Arendelle trolls via Elsa and Anna. We had Grand Pabbie alert the Trollhunter of the Nightmares." said Ted Wiggins.

"Which means a group of you have to go find the essence stones." Megamind appeared with a plate of, "who wants cookies?"

"Are you growing soft on us, Meg?" Megamind basically growled at Wilbur for the nickname he used.

"I am trying to babysit Gru's oldest daughter and her friends." Megamind told him looking the kid dead in the eye.

"What do you know of the essence stones?" I asked him, ignoring the intense staredown happening between the two makes.

Megamind turned his attention away from Wilbur only for the time-traveller to blow a raspberry at him and Megamind to turn back and glare at him I rolled my eyes. The same old stupid antics. "I know where you can find the essence stone of the ocean."

"If you tell me we have to befriend Poseidon or-."

"It's in Atlantis." Megamind said.

"Or that." I facepalmed. "And how would you know that?"

"Because I have an evil underwater lair in the city of Atlantis." Cue another facepalm from me.

"And why...? You know what? I don't want to know. So how are we getting there?" I asked.

"It's not a matter of how we, but rather how who is getting there." Megamind said.

"That makes no sense whatsoever, dude." Hiro said as he walked into the room followed by Lucy Tuchi.

"Some of us will go on the mission while the rest research the rest of the essence stones." Megamind suggested.

"You know... your ideas are normally terrible. But this one is actually a good idea." Wilbur told him.

The alien growled. "Easy now, Megamind. When we heading out? And who is coming along for the ride?"

"You, Rayla, Ezran, Callum, Sisu, Hiccup, Jack, Light Furry, Walter, and Toothless." Megamind told us. "And you will leave tomorrow. After school."

"Alright. Before we do anymore planning, I need pizza." I walked over to where Hiro plopped the pizza on.

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I cannot believe he has the audacity for this! He knows we're not on the best of terms, and yet he does this." I sighed.

"I'm sure he has a reason." said Hiro.

"It's Megamind. It's a stupid-ass reason." I told him.

Hiro sighed. "But you miss hanging out with Toby and Jim. And you-."

"Don't even finish that sentence. I know what you were going to say." Hiro gapped at me. "I know what you were going to say. Only three people know it. And one betrayed me."

My phone vibrated in my hoodie's pocket and I opened it up to see a text from my grandmother, Margaret. "Is that Marge? What she said?"

"She's wondering about the you-know-what with the you-know-who." I told him. She wants to know about James Lake Jr being the Trollhunter. Grandpa would not be pleased with this anyway. But he's dead. And he doesn't matter.

"You have gym next block right?" I groaned. Of course I forgot. And why of all days did we have to do the Pacer test today!

"And we're doing the pacer test today too!" I would have banged my head on a locker if we weren't coming from History. "Kill me now! Woe is me!"

"Stop being overdramatic. And I'm off my way to Robotics." Hiro said once we got to the hall where we would part ways.

"Don't take over the world of robotics without your team first." I called out to gim.

"Yeah, yeah. Just focus on making chemistry after gym, but preferably during." the smart-ass called back.

I'm gonna kill him one of these days. Just you wait, Hiro Hamada. I grumbled and continued on my way to the ends of the earth. Also known as gym. Because I lack the athletic ability of a worm. My arms are basically noodles before submerged in H20. I got dressed in my PE clothes and walked outside to the bleachers where I plopped myself down on. Gym. The one class I don't have my safety net to catch me. The one block where I feel alone. Completely and helplessly alone.

"Hey, [Y/N]. Mind if we sit here?" asked Toby.

It was just him and Jim. What on Earth are they up to? I scooted some ways away from my spot and patted the spot beside me. Jim took the spot beside me while Toby took the bench in front of us.

"We haven't hung out just the three of us in awhile, huh?" Toby remarked.

"You both seem busy since the semester started. I can't blame you for that one."  I told them. The pair shrugged at me, but it was a lying shrug. I would know. I do the same ones. "Anyway, what are we doing for our History Project, Jamie?" I looked over at him.

"I don't know. Wanna brainstorm some ideas after school?" Jim asked me.

"Can't. I have a family thing." Lying to them has gotten harder since I found out. Hopefully they don't catch. But they're idiots. They won't catch on... I hope. "I can come over tomorrow after school if you want."

"That... Th-th-th-that'll be gr-gr-gr-great." What's with the stammer? It's weird. "Oh, don't forget about Pig Zombies on Saturday."

"Don't worry. I have it all set in my calendar. So, what time is the movie?" I asked them.

Toby and Jim shared a look. Oh that is never good. "We don't actually know."

"Then, what are we going to do about Saturday?" I asked them.

"We're more of idea men." Like they're any close to being men. "Creating a plan is someone else's problem." Of course.

"You two haven't changed at all, have you? I'll get to work on that sometime this evening. You guys still have email, righr?" I asked them.

"Who still uses e-mail anymore?" Toby inquired.

"Good point. I'll just have Lucy drive us to the theater anyway." I replied. "So, how are you and Claire going, Jamie?"

"O-o-o-oh, m-m-me and Claire?" stammered Jim. That's strange.

"Yes, you and Claire. You two are dating, aren't you?" I asked him.

"Oh, y-y-yeah. We're g-g-g-good." Hmm. Peculiar. But Jim's always been like this when pertaining to Claire. Nothing suspicious about that.

I hope.

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Jim

"So, you have a study date with [Y/N] tomorrow huh?" Claire teased me while we walked to Blinky's library.

"What-. Wait! You told her!" I exclaimed to Toby who was on my left side.

"Of course, I did. Dude, you've been hopelessly obliviously in love with this girl since she stole your first kiss on the monkey bars when we were nine. And she-."

"She clearly has feelings for you, but she's not gonna act upon them since you know we're fake dating and all that jazz." Claire said.

I sighed. "You're the smart one. Couldn't you have come up with something... um... better?"

"What? Because a wuss like you was going to ask her out if I didn't say we were dating?" Claire asked him, raising an eyebrow at her friend.

I sighed once more. She clearly had a point. And Tobes seemed to catch it too. "He tried to ask her if she wanted to go see Pig Zombie 6 for her sixteenth birthday, but dragged me along with them because he wussed out of calling it a date."

Claire tapped her chin in thought. I do not understand girls. Then, she did the thing where you smack your fist against your hand in an aha! idea moment. Which is what transpired next. "I have a perfect idea for your movie date on Saturday."

"Am I going to regret this?" I asked her.

"I hope not. I'm helping you whether you want me to or not." Yea me! Internal frown.

We made it Blinky's library in which the four arm troll was talking animatedly to Vendell. About Essence Stones? What the fuzz buckets are those?

"Um, what are the Essence Stones?" I piped up.

"The Essence Stones are the only thing that can combat the Oncoming Storm." Vendel explained.

"Which is why we should be looking for them! We already know where one is! The Sea Stone!" Blinky told him.

"I already told you the Starling has this under control. This is her fight. Not ours. We shouldn't-."

"But then why have Pabbie tell us about the resurgence anyways?!" Blinky cut him off. I don't think Blinky has ever interrupted Vendel before. This is a first.

"Because to warn us of an even greater danger, Blinkous!! One that we have to face on our own! As Trolls!" the elder roared.

I never saw a look of fear as intense as the look that crossed Blinky's face when Vendel told him that. A greater danger? Even Aaarrrggghh! and Draal had the same look as Blinky. What did it all mean? Vendel left the library.

"I don't care what the goat says. We're getting the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"And how do we acquire it?" asked Claire.

"Hate Gyre." Aaarrrgghh! cried. Oh.

"And where would we find the Sea Stone?" Toby asked. "It's underwater right? And we can't breathe in water? So is it in an aquarium? Washed up on a beach?"

"I'll tell you where when we get to the Gyre." Claire, Toby, and I shared a look before shrugging our shoulders and following Blinky to the Gyre.

When we got there, we reached the Gyre and hopped in. "So, where are we going?"

"Under the sea. In an underwater palace where there is no water inside located in what you humans refer to as The Bermuda Triangle. Get ready for Atlantis." And before the three of us could protest, Blinky put in the coordinates and we zipped off towards... did he really say Atlantis? And the Bermuda Triangle?

But I didn't have time to question it as we arrived in a palace? And our clothes were soaking wet. But we never submerged in water? You know what? I shouldn't question it. Me and my friends huddled for warmth. It'll be awhile before we're dry. But why isn't- you know what? Never mind. I don't care.

"Okay, so where do we go first?" asked Toby.

"We head for the treasure room. The Jewel of Atlantis is the Sea Stone." Blinky told us.

"Why are we wet, but you aren't?" asked Claire.

"No clue." Blinky shrugged his shoulders.

The three of us grumbled but followed after Blinky with Aaarrrgghh! and Draal taking the rear. This is going to be a long evening. Our little group trudged, our squeaky footprints giving our location to anyone who would be here. And I think someone was here. Because a familiar ball of silver and blue was charging at us. Not us. Me. Followed by a march larger greenish-blue dragon.

"Hi, Azymondias." I said to the baby dragon when he jumped into my arms.

"I see you humans have already met the Prince. Starling's Zym seems to like you Mr Lake." the green-ish blue dragon said. Um... do dragons normally...

"YOU TALK?!?!" Thanks for that, Tobes.

"Of course, I do. I'm Sisu. Starling sent me after Little Azymondias to make sure he stayed out of trouble." Why aren't Blinky, Aarrrgghh!, and Draal freaking out about there being another dragon? And the elf being here?

"You six, now-seven, looking for the Treasure Room?" asked Sisu.

I shivered as a breeze went by. Why was there a breeze? We're in a dry castle underwater! This is just too weird.

"We were headed that way right now!" Blinky told the dragon.

Azymondias coughed. Or sneezed? I don't know. But he zapped me and I yelped and I'm... dry? Well alot dryer than before. Uh, thank you. Living dryer thay could kill me at any given moment. But you're still cute. So you're forgiven if you do.

"Well I wouldn't go that way! That's where Meg put his evil lair at." Sisu told us.

"Lair?" "Meg?"

"Meg is what the time-traveler calls Megamind. And he placed a lair here when he was going through his 'evil' phase." I did not know Dragons did air quotes.

"Time Traveler? Like the Doctor? Or Loki?" askes Toby.

"Looks like a mix of Matt Smith and Loki as a tween with too much hair gel. Alright, kids follow me." Sisu told us.

Zym appeared on my shoulder, wrapping his small body around on my shoulder and we followed the hopping dragon towards the treasure room. We had reached the treasure room, avoiding all the traps (that was on the ceiling for some strange reason). We arrived there. And Sisu peered inside before letting us enter. Strange.

But I couldn't help peering over Sisu's sboulder "Are you really angry that the Trollhunter keeps unknowingly stealing your pet?" That sounded like... no it can't be.

"Azymondias is not my pet. My pet sounds like I chose to take care of him. The bundle of zappy madness chose me to take care of him. So if anything, I'm his pet." Please tell me that's not who I think it is. But the-I'm guessing- Startouch Elf looks nothing like her. Not one bit. Well maybe except for the nose. And the eyes.

"You make absolutely no sense. And yet you love him anyway." the other voice said. A male with slick-back hair. This must be the time-traveler Wow. Sisu was spot on.

"Kids, easy now. We wouldn't want this to get into the wrong hands. Not this close to the Cotillion." A brunette male that appeared to be the oldest of the group. Why does he look so familiar to me?

"I have a question for you, pig snout. Meg said you wouldn't be here. Why the hell are you here? And why are you even here?" the elf asked.

"I stowed away because none of you are smart." the time-traveller said.

"Says the royal dumbass." the female elf sighed. "I'm so young and yet I feel so old." she emphasized. I was half expecting her to do a dramatic fall like they always seem to do in soap operas notthatIwatchsoapoperasinthefirstplacethat'sabsurd.

"I already knew that, dumbass." time-traveler said.

"Go on, Trollhunter." Sisu used her tail to push me toward the elf's group to retrieve the essence stone. "Introduce yourself."

And suddenly I stumbled upon the room making the group's attention turn to me. "Um...hi." Cue the awkward wave. "I'm... James Lake Jr? I'm the... Trollhunter." I held out the Amulet of Merlin. I could practically sense Toby and Claire facepalming at this.

"Starling, I think this one is for you to handle." I now noticed the brunette boy that stood beside the other elf. Is that... Callum Schlott?? Um... I hope if that is him, he doesn't tell [Y/N] about this.

"I am the one they refer to as Starling as you must know. And we don't need you here. To help us." The girl's hand were running up and down a strand of her waist length periwinkle hair. [Y/N] did the same thing when she had long hair. Not the time Jim.

"I think we do. Because the Seastone is missing if you've forgotten." the other elf said. She sounds like Rayla. And sort of looks like her too.

"THE SEASTONE IS GONE!?!?!?" Blinky exclaimed.

"Unfortunately so. Now, one advantage turns out to be a setback." I didn't notice the other brunette who had a black dragon that was acting like a cat by his feet.

"Do you have any leads?" asked Claire as she stepped forward.

"Just a Roman Penny. No clue from where though." Starling told us. "Now, I think it's time you kids return to California. Don'tyouthink."

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"So Atlantis was a flopp?" I had already told Draal about the whole atlantis situation.

Luckily mom had another night shift at the hospital, so Draal could walk around freely while I made dinner for myself. Elbow Pasta and Meat Sauce it appears to be.

"Yes, it was, Draal." I turned the TV on and started flipping through the channels to find the one I wanted. "At least, I met Starling. She was not what I was expecting."

"Most elves aren't. You humans expect them to be small and cute because of the Claus, but they aren't." Draal told me.

"Actually, I think," I found what I was looking for. The French food competition show the World's Greatest Chef Competiton. "she was the exact opposite of what all of you were saying. Sure she was a tad harsh to us, but I think she didn't want to involve us in the Essence Stones. Like she didn't want anymore added help. I don't know." A knock sounded on the door.

"Were you expecting anyone?" asked Draal.

"Not that I know. Toby and Claire wouldn't knock. They'll just barge on in." I told him.

And before I got to the door, the door opened to reveal a boy with white hair, incredibly pale skin wearing a blue sweatshirt and brown trousers. "Don't be such a pussy, Hiccup." That was Sisu.

"Yeah, we're only here since Zym wants the trollhunter to be his dragon rider and to train him how to combat magic." white hair said.

"Um... what are you doing at my house?" I asked them as I held my wooden spoon in my hand, ready to strike them if necessary.

"You and Punzie would be great friends, squirt." The platinum blonde ruffled my brown hair to make it messy. My hair now looks like the dragon boy's hair.

"We're here to train you. I'm Hiccup. And this is Jack. Jack Frost." Wait. What? I'm lost. "I live over in Berk Manor. And you have wandered in a den where you cannot get out of." the brunnette introduced.

"Which is why Starling didn't want you to get involved. By trying to help us with the Seastone, you and your friends have put a target on your back. Starling didn't want that. But now we have to help you. To train you. Hiccup here is a Dragon Rider. And even though Azymondias isn't big enough to be ridden. He will be. I suspect sooner than you think, so he's going to train you to ride him. And I and many others are going come here to help you train against magic. Since the people who will come after you to kill you will have magic." Jack Frost told me. Now I'm really lost.

"So let's begin."

@trollhuntersfanatic