#a lesson she insists on giving all her students

[sacrligium]

i don't think anyone understands how utterly abhorring the director can be. she is very careful with details to the point of obsessing over them. nothing seems to be good enough, just tolerable. her perfectionism overflows in excess where she is not only hard on herself but twice as hard on others. this makes her a very harsh teacher &. a harsher woman. she is often criticised in her circle . . . something she cares naught for seeing as her students excel in the art. john himself was a dancer until an injury on his ankle impeded him to carry the activity. the director discarded him quickly as he became unfit for her purposes, forfeiting the boy entirely to the other practices, as she did to many others.

[naviavu]

Evergreen

PAIRINGS: yandere!alhaitham x reader

TAGS: mild compared to my other works <3, i guess, >:-), obsession, possessive sex, juicy smut, alhaitham is yandere YANDERE, he just wants reader back home :(, sumeru dream team, abuse of power, childhood friends to lovers, kinda, manipulation

WORDS: 4.4k // crossposted on ao3 // my masterlist

NOTES: hope everyone enjoys this dark twist of alhaitham! it's been so long since i wrote for genshin, and i'm not sure how much the tumblr community has changed. regardless, please don't hesitate to drop by my inbox to comment or request! i genuinely missed writing lol <3

You often think that you’re cursed with your work.

(Y/N) of the Akademiya. Graduated early from Vahumana, traveling all over the seven nations to be a teacher and provide impoverished kids with free education. This is the fourth year of your career, and you’re staying in Fontaine– everything is going great.  

Until one day, a messenger approached you.

“What do you mean the stakeholders are withholding funds indefinitely?” A chalk breaks under your grip, powder falling to your skirt. You glance quickly outside the tent, careful to not let your students hear you. “That doesn’t make any sense– the Yorun investors are literally from Sumeru! They’re wealthy enough to fund fancier Akademiya projects! ”

The messenger– Jesse, a gentle Fontainian girl much younger than you– avoids eye contact and fiddles with her sling bag. “They insisted that the abrupt change in the sages and Lesser Lord Kusanali’s rise to power caused their resources to become… limited.”

“Oh, that’s bullshit!” You shout. Jesse trembles. You sigh and pat her head. “Sorry, kid. I didn’t mean to raise my voice. Get home safe, alright?”

(She only nods and places the letter on your desk. Before leaving, she turns back and says, “I’m really sorry, Ma’am (Y/N). I also wish that you continue your work. You’ve done a great deal educating kids in this neighborhood… including my brother.”

You give her a sad smile.)

There was no choice. The next day, you taught one last lesson to your students (eleven children from the back alleys of Fontaine, all no older than twelve) and bid your final goodbyes. When they ask where you’re going, you tell them that you’re on for another long journey, and you don’t know when you’ll be back. They gather around and embrace you, small hands all over your body. One of the kids (Jules, one brilliant in maths but not so much in literature. You’ll miss his toothy smile the most) tell you that they will pray to Focalors for your safety. You pat Oli’s head one last time, telling him to be good for his sister Jesse. 

A carriage picks you up before sunrise. Your journey to Sumeru was uneventful, and every small bump and thud on the way aggravated you further. You settle for burning holes at the empty seat in front of you.

You enter the city with your head down, walking the familiar steps robotically. You think that you recognize the voices of your old acquaintances and neighbors chattering and laughing, but the haze from your mind (and heart) prevents you from doing the bare minimum of greeting them.

The first step to your wooden porch is a bittersweet homecoming. When you open your front door, the hinges still squeak the same tones before you left. 

Your evergreen shrubs haven't grown an inch, as if someone was maintaining them. (You brush off this strange detail.)

Mindlessly staring inside your unkempt house, you decide that if you want to continue your life’s work, you must continue earning money. 

(You failed to notice that your doorknob was dust-free.)

You sat down on your old desk and wrote a lengthy letter to the higher-ups for the cause of your arrival, the reason for the halt of your travels, and that you’re looking for a job. 

For the rest of the day, you unpack your bags, sweep the floor, and pace restlessly in your living room. It’s been many years since you were in contact with your superiors. The last time you saw them was at your graduation, where everyone expected you to stay in Sumeru and be one of the next candidates for the Sage of Vahumana. 

The grip in your broom tightens when you remember as clear as day your professors’ anger and judgment when you declined their offer. Entitled. Ungrateful.

Will they even accept you back? Will they cast you out?

To your surprise, a reply arrived on your doorstep not even a day later. A clean envelope embroidered with green and silver patterns.

You were offered to fill the vacant position of Scribe. 

You tell yourself that you’ll adjust eventually. 

Seeing the piles of papers and books in front of you, your hand aches a phantom throb. You wonder how your friend Lisa could survive this kind of monotony in Mondstadt. It pays better, sure, and your back and legs won’t hurt as much from traversing landscapes– but it’s still nothing compared to seeing the smile on children’s faces when they finally understand the concepts after a bone-deep, exhausting lesson.

As expected, the stick-thin pen felt too soft on your fingers after a few hours. You were more used to holding chalks or markers. Drafting ordinances and reading through academic policies was never your thing. 

Outside your study, you hear the light footsteps of scholars while noisily prattling about one of their newest inventions. You can’t help but compare the plain white-green palette of your office to the brightness and energetic vibrance of the local districts. 

Putting your hands on your head, you exhale deeply. “Fuck me!” 

“--(Y/N). I hope you’re doing well on your first day.” A voice –not too different from years ago, just deeper– enters the room.

Oh god. “Alhaitham!” The silver-haired man closes the door behind him. You didn’t even hear his footsteps outside your office. “Sorry, my… hand cramped from signing all these papers. You know how it is.” 

He raises his eyebrow. “Still not used to your tasks?” Seeing him out of his Haravatat uniform is a new sight. Even from a distance, his stature is much taller, no doubt towering over you.  

“Well, I can’t really complain,” His lack of greeting and deadpan expression doesn’t bother you. If anything, you’re glad that the Alhaitham you knew four years ago is not too different from Alhaitham now. “It’s better than not having a job. I didn’t expect them to accept me so fast, though. I thought they’d be more hung up with my rejection thing years ago. Old people and their grudges, y’know?”

Alhaitham doesn’t respond, used to your chattering. He meanders to the nearby bookshelf and brushes through. Your lips quirk into a small grin. “Thank the Archons that I have my very cute junior, who’s also the Acting Grand Sage and the previous Scribe, to help me adjust with my new work, huh?”

His fingers stop skimming. He glares over his shoulder. “Power tripping me on your first day? I’m calling human resources.”

Your shoulders shake when you laugh. His own kind of humor never ceases to amuse you. “Sorry. It’ll take some time… but I’ll get used to this. I promise.” 

A familiar and comfortable silence settles in the room. A few papers later, he finally picks the book he’s been looking for and turns to you. “Please do everyone a favor by going to Lambad’s Tavern tonight. Kaveh got into an altercation with another customer, and your presence would help tone down his temper. Tighnari and Cyno are also expecting you. Candace also mentioned that she hasn't gotten back to you since you last wrote to her, and she would love to catch up personally.”

Your lips smile at the mention of your old friends. Stretching your arms, you look out the window. The noise outside from Sumeru City barely hangs in the air with your office located so high up in the building. “News goes around real fast, doesn’t it? I’ve been keeping a low profile since last week and didn’t even tell anyone about my arrival. Not Kaveh. Not Cyno, not Tighnari, not Candace.” Your whisper, eyes downcast.

Alhaitham walks to the other side of your desk and crosses his arms. “The lack of funds for your organization wasn’t your fault, (Y/N). Whether it's because of the shift in power from the sages or not, incidents out of your control inevitably happen.”

You don’t ask why he knows the reason why you’re back here. Alhaitham always knew more than what he let on. “Don’t waste time being disappointed with yourself and focus on what you have now.”

You turn away, flustered from the sincere gaze of his bright virescent eyes. You take a sip of your warm coffee to hide your smile. “Thanks, Haitham. This is why you’re the best Acting Grand Sage.”

He rolls his eyes. The brewing tension disappears. “Make sure that I see you in the tavern no later than 10.”

The door softly closes when he leaves. For the first time in forever, this place starts to feel like home.

The lively, alcohol-drenched atmosphere in Lambad’s Tavern never changed. 

Years ago, you’d go day drinking whenever your assignments were returned for their fifth revision. If your whole class was lucky, most of your group mates and colleagues will be with you, equally drowning in their academic-induced sorrows.

The amber-brown colors of the sheets and the patrons who entered remained the same. Before you even reach the counter, someone already picks you up and spins you around in a hug. “Little one! I’ve heard from some patrons that you were back in town. It’s one of those rumors that I hoped to be true!” 

You giggle and embrace Lambad back, grateful for the older man’s warm welcome. 

“(Y/N)!” You’d recognize the forest ranger’s sweet voice anywhere. Tighnari jogs towards you and pulls you into a hug, tail wagging. You notice that he looks better compared to all those years ago when he was still in the Akademiya. “I’m sorry I couldn’t see you sooner. When Cyno told me there seemed to be an occupant in your house, I didn’t expect it to be you! ” 

Bitterness pangs in your heart. “I didn’t expect to be back either,” You say honestly. “Guess everyone needs a little break somehow.”

“Warn us next time, would you?” Cyno emerges behind his friend. “Be thankful that there was other urgent business to take care of. I was ready to… interrogate whoever was staying inside my friend’s house without their permission.”

“Yeah, yeah, got it, boss,” You shake your head and laugh. Three of you walk to a table near the windows. You’re happy to see everyone. And you’re glad to know that they’re also just as happy to see you. 

After a good hour of catching up, you feel your whole body relax and your jaw tense from laughing too hard at Tighnari’s anecdotes. Your emotions unwind like a fresh flower by the streams. 

“That blockhead doesn’t know what he’s talking about...  Where are they? The tavern is too crowded at this hour!” You turn to your left, looking for him. You wave excitedly when you see a tuft of blonde hair. 

His eyes widened. “(Y/N)?”

“Kaveh.”

“(Y/N)!”

“Kaveh!” The architect ran up and enveloped you in a hug. Since college, yours and Kaveh’s stupidity knew no bounds– it was always laughs and jokes between you. You stay in each other’s arms for a few moments, and the familiarity of his scent brings you relaxation. 

The night goes on as great as it started. 

“I can’t wait until I move out!” Kaveh exclaims. Two people from the other table look in his direction. Your other friends groan, used to his antics. 

You notice redness starting to come up on the blonde’s neck. “You’re being really loud for someone I thought didn’t want people knowing you live with him.” 

Cyno places down a card. Tighnari groans. “Don’t engage him. (Y/N). Or he won’t stop.”

“Yes! Yes,” Kaveh starts. All the other customers are busy with their own shouting and chattering. “Don’t get me wrong, I like the place. Alhaitham is a quiet roommate. I just can’t stand his attitude most of the time! If I wanted a lecture, I would’ve gone to the Akademiya and talked to my old professors.”

The blonde crosses his arms. “What about you, (Y/N)? I’m not going to lie, Alhaitham made a great recommendation of you being the Scribe. That’s the only thing I could commend him for this week, at least.” 

“What?” You weren’t aware of that. Your thumbs fiddle with your skirt. “Uh, yeah. I’ll make sure to thank him later.”

“Oh, sweet (Y/N), you’re to kiiiiiind,” He slurs. “I wish you were my roommate instead.”

Your best friend reaches to twirl your hair. In your drunken stupor, you giggle with a light blush painting your cheeks. 

A bottle clangs on the table. “Another one, please.”

A heavy presence sits beside you. You look, and Alhaitham was already downing a shot, throat bobbing. 

In the background, your friends laugh while Kaveh groans. 

Has Haitham always been this beautiful?

The silver-haired man looks at you. “Enjoying Kaveh’s tales?” 

“It’s always a fun story when you’re involved.” You giggle, flushing under his gaze. “Everything about you is so entertaining, Haitham.”

Your flushed face does something to his chest. He gives you another shot. “That’s why your colleagues used to look at you weird. Whenever Kaveh wasn’t around, you’d hang out with me, even when I clearly wanted to be alone,” He laments. 

“Says the one who used to follow me around like a puppy! We were mismatched weirdos,” You don’t notice the blush creep up on his cheeks. You smile at him earnestly, whispering. “I’m glad you didn’t change– oops!”

The chair creaks and you stumble into his arms. You look up, seeing his face and amber eyes close to yours. Heat emanates from the grip on your waist, and your hands feel hot on his chest. Sparks flew to your core. 

“Get a room! You know what, I’m staying in Cyno’s tonight. He never sleeps anyway,” Kaveh’s shouts break the stupor and you push Alhaitham away. He stumbled, and Cyno was on his side in an instant. “You heard him. Kaveh, it’s time for you to clock out. Tighnari, let’s continue this game next time.” 

The three of them exit the tavern. ‘Make Alhaitham pay the tab! He’s so unfair!’ Kaveh says, and Alhaitham begrudgingly does so when both of you have sobered enough to walk home. 

You don’t know if it’s the leftover alcohol in your system, but the night sky swirls above both of you. “Ah… I never knew… howmuchImissedbeinghere,” 

“Easy there,” He catches you again when you stumble. “Where are we going, Haitham?”

“To your place, of course. You’re exhausted from work. You need to rest.”

“What? But I thought…” Your mind goes blank. Alhaitham looks at you with hope in his eyes, but the light is gone in a split second. 

“You thought what?” When you don’t answer, he stops on his tracks. “You thought what, (Y/N)? Tell me.” 

“Nothing.” He looks away. You face him. “But… I think… my place is too far. Can we go to yours instead?” 

You seal your fate with those words.  

The heat from both of your bodies encapsulated the whole room. 

Alhaitham’s hands slowly grip your curves. Passion and lust melted into two souls that yearned for each other for so long. 

“Haitham…” You breathe out, shivering from his fingers ghosting on your skin. You feel like you’re on fire, and his warmth only served to fan your flames higher. 

“I wanted you for so long… you’re so beautiful…” He gasps, fumbling around your blouse buttons. Despite his rough kisses, he handles you gently– like porcelain glass, a gift getting unwrapped for the first time.  

When you finally undressed, Alhaitham almost couldn’t believe his eyes. 

The one woman he had been obsessed with, laid out before him. His for the taking. 

You shiver at his gaze. You hold out your hand, shaking from the cold. And arousal. “C-Come… Haitham… you can do whatever you want with me…”

And so he does. He climbs to your bed like a predator hunting the prey. You lie in wait as you let him take the lead. Kissing all over your breasts, suckling on your nipples, sending shivers to your core. You try to squeeze your legs for relief, but Haitham stops you by putting his knees in between your legs. 

He clicks his tongue. “You’ll only cum on my mouth, fingers, or cock tonight, baby.” 

You shudder at his words. Down he goes, settling himself between your soft thighs. You flush, your cunt surely eager and wet, aching for his touch. He licks a stripe in your pussy, and you moan. “H-haitham!”

He licks more eagerly, like a man starved. Never in a million years you’d ever thought that you would be this vulnerable and intimate. At the hands of your junior, no less. His face on your thighs and his mouth on your clit, sucking like you were his last meal. 

Your head was in the clouds. Your hands move to his head, tugging roughly. 

He growls. “You wanna play rough? I can play rough.”

You sigh. “Keep–going– Haitham…”

He spits on your cunt. He slurps on your mixed juices. “I-I’m close…” 

He stops and you whine. Your legs are pulled to the end of the couch, and you watch him as he fumbles with his clothes. When he finally emerges stark naked in front of you, you notice his large cock, angrily red at the tip. 

That won’t fit inside you. 

“Wait– Haitham!” He positions himself in front of your legs, rubbing his cock on your entrance. “Yes, baby?” 

“You– You might not fit inside me,” You flush deeper when he laughs. “I’m being serious!”

“We’ll never know if we don’t find out.” He enters you, and you moan. You try to cover your mouth from letting such embarrassing sounds come out, but he pins your arms above you. “I want to hear you.” 

He rocks into you, like two bodies connecting with each other have waited for a long time. 

Alhaitham observes your face, sketches it to his memory. The way your eyes glisten, and your mouth opens in pleasure. The curve of your hips and waist, the slope of your nose, the plush of your lips, and the tears in your eyes. You’ve grown into a fine young woman as he expected, and it was a blessing that you came home so unexpectedly. 

Your pussy is heavenly. All his teenage fantasies culminated to this one night– his childhood crush, sprawled out in his bed and legs open like a slut. He’ll make sure that your skin is marked all over. Let everyone know that you’re his, and no one else’s. 

“Haa… Feels so good…” You were equally drenched in sweat and your tears, pleasure overcoming your senses. You feel him suck your nipples again, sending you more pleasure to your core. 

“You’re so fucking tight– that’s it, baby, suck me in,” He groans, as you feel yourself tumbling over the edge. The coil in your stomach tightens and you moan, and it suddenly snaps– “Ah!” 

Your juices make a mess on his stomach, his thighs, and yours. You heave and gasp your breath, shivering. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here, you’re safe,” Warm arms envelop you, and you close your eyes.

You sleep soundly in Alhaitham’s arms. 

Time goes on, and your passionate meetings with Alhaitham are repeated. 

You gave yourself to him again, and again, and again. At his house, when Kaveh is away with his clients. In his study, when he’s stressed. On his couch, when both of you are drunk and give in to lust before going to the bedroom. For the past month, you can’t count how many times you woke up seeing the lush green of his windows and his warm body curled up around yours. 

His visits became frequent on your own study. He brings you coffee. You spend the whole day drafting and writing, and he reads his book in the corner of your room like a loyal attendant. 

It’s domestic. Sometimes, you often wonder what life will be if you decide to stay. 

(Is there a future with Alhaitham? You ask yourself one afternoon when you see the man sleeping on your mini desk. His silver hair softly flutters in the wind, and on his hand is a document you handed him to put by one of the bookshelves.

It would be good if he could join me in traveling the world. You stamp your last document for the day. 

You walk and place a kiss on his forehead to wake him up. “Work’s done, sweetie.” 

You would miss him terribly.)

One morning, your jolly footsteps alert people in the street. “Haitham!”  You whisper excitedly. The door opens, and you enter before he can even offer for you to come inside. “I got it!” 

He raised an eyebrow. “I’m not sure what it is, but I’m proud of you.”

“I’m going back to Fontaine to teach! The stakeholders said there was an error in the calculations; they’re ready to fund my investment again!” You hug him tight. Joy pours out of your body. 

(You don’t notice him freeze.)

“I’m so happy… I honestly thought that this was the end of my life’s purpose…” You trail off. Alhaitham hugs you back. His grip tightens on your waist.

“I can finally come back to the kids in Fontaine…” You trail off when you see him looking far into the distance. 

You frown. You know better than most people that he’s not the most expressive person, but you thought that he would at least crack a smile for you. 

You hastily pull away from your hug. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I just wanted you to know first, since you’re… very special to me,” Your face was red from shame, and from not knowing how to describe your relationship with Alhaitham correctly. “I’ll go tell Tighnari and the others now.”

A beat passes. “(Y/N).” 

You turn around, hand clutching your bag. Alhaitham stands still on the doorway in the same position that you left him. 

Then, he smiles– crooked and ominous, like he was forcing himself.

Perhaps he is. 

A shiver goes down your spine. He speaks, confident and clear– like it wasn’t the most obvious lie. “I’m happy for you.” 

The door closes behind him. This time, your feet fight the urge to get out of this city as soon as possible.

 Your happiness ended as quickly as it came.

The newspaper plastered on the board of Port Ormos sits still despite the rough winds, like it knows how heavy the burden of the message it carries.

Yorun Investors dead on ambush

An Adventurer’s Guild member sighs, discouraged. A businessman– from Sneznhaya, you would assume from his attire– exclaims. “That would mean their investments are also cut off? Drat! Half of my businesses rely on their funding!”

People pile up to see the newsboard, collectively murmuring. You stand still, motionless. Bricks are piled on your hands and your feet. 

You can always find other investors, of course. Just like you did four years ago. 

How long would that take?

You walk home, absentminded. You pass by the Tavern, then the Akademiya. Walking by Alhaitham’s house doesn't even spark excitement inside you. Calling your other friends isn’t a choice, either.

You just want to wake up from this dream. 

When you arrived, Someone was waiting on your doorstep.

“Alhaitham?” Thesman stands up straight. How long was he waiting? “(Y/N), I apologize for how I acted yesterday. I hope you forgive me.” 

When you remain quiet, he continues. “I also heard about what happened. I don’t mean to mock you, (Y/N). I’m truly sorry to hear about it.” 

Tears start falling down your face, which turn into full, ugly sobs. He walks gently, as if you’ll break into pieces if he makes the wrong move. He holds up his arms. 

You bury your face in his chest and cry.

Living with Alhaitham was happier than you’d thought it would be. 

It’s been months since you took his embrace on your front porch. You spent sleepless nights with him, writing letters for every investor or kind soul who’s kind enough to fund your endeavors, even for a penny. 

You were desperate. If the higher ups knew the struggle you’re going through right now, you’re sure that they’re laughing at you. 

(Not that you cared. Alhaitham stayed up writing letters with you, and that’s all the support that you need.)

You waited, waited, and waited. Yet every reply was rejection. Your partner saw you break down, and he’s always there to pick you back up. 

His clothes are strewn all over your house, as if he lives there now. 

“Coffee?” He offers. You nod. A giggle comes out of your mouth when you see a purple hickey on his neck, barely covered by his shirt.

It’s been months since he heard your laugh. He stops stirring the cup he’s prepared for you. Alhaitham looks back, says sincerely, “I’m glad you stayed.” 

An uncomfortable feeling brews once again. You tell yourself that you’ll get used to it. 

You still have hope that one day, your feet will step out again to reach your dreams.

But for now, everything that you need in Sumeru City. The perfect partner, an authentic group of friends, a beautiful community, and a stable (but boring) job.

You’ll never have to venture out again. 

(The evergreen shrubs outside your house starts to grow.)

“She’s settling in well?” 

“Yes, she’s resting,” Alhaitham sits on the makeshift chair. Ghandarva Ville was far, but it’s where less people are around. Besides, no one would dare trespass in Tighnari’s personal home. 

“You owe me a favor,” Cyno crosses his arms. “Finding the investor’s carriage was not difficult. They’re pretty famous. But erasing traces is a piece of work. I’m lucky that no one was within the area. Not that they could catch me, anyway.”

The door opens. Tighnari brushes off dirt from his clothing, having come back from burning the investor’s bloodied clothes. He sees the grey-haired man relaxing by his couch. “Are you smiling? Don’t smile. You look weird. Also everything is done, reduced to ashes. What’s our payment, Acting Grand Sage?”

Alhaitham hums, and everything fades into the background. He thinks of you lounging in your home, watering your plants, and decorating your journal. Just like how it’s supposed to be, in the first place. He even cleaned some parts of your house so that you don’t exhaust yourself too much upon your first day.

Thank the Archons that he has the perfect partner, an authentic group of friends, a beautiful community, and a stable job. 

(Y/N) will never have to venture out again. 

Ever. 

[messylustt]

Can you write about an arguement with ethan because he got jealous and then reader and Ethan give eachother the silent treatment for days but then ethan folds first and BEGS for her attention :) thank you so much

i love desperate men

desperate jealousy — ethan landry + reader ( scream ) : an jealous argument leads to a rather desperate ethan.

contents : just a heated kiss and some jealousy. wc 2.0k.

you nod, smiling at this guy you met in econ. you got paired up for an assignment, him taking the seat beside you.

throughout the discussion of topics he had slowly began to move closer, copying your smile. “are you sure we should do that topic?” you ask, relaxed in your seat.

he shrugs. “i mean it’s easy enough to get good marks.”

“true.” you say. “but that usually means that everyone else is gonna do it.” you randomly gesture at the students. “professors usually look for work that’s different.”

you had been so used to working with ethan—having been allowed to choose your own partners in the past. but this lesson your partners were chosen for you, leaving you with a guy—though cute, still wanting to find the easier way out.

as you carried on discussing, ethan watched from his seat next to some girl—his partner. “ethan.” she tries to get his attention. “i think we should do this topic.” she points at one of the possible selections.

but ethan just hums, keeping his gaze on you and the guy. he wasn’t too thrilled about the partners being different. he liked working with you, you both had similar minds. thoughts and decisions flowed easy.

“ethan.” the girl tried again, finally earning him to look away from you and to her. “why are you so distracted? i thought you were the smart one in this class.”

ethan keeps his almost solemn expression, but forces himself to face the assignment and try to engage with his partner.

at the end of the lesson, you got up from your seat. “so does that topic work?”

the guy—james—nods. “yeah, that should work. whose house should we do it at?”

“oh, i was just thinking we work in the library when we’re both free.”

james looks slightly disappointed. “but i’m usually quite busy doing other…stuff in the day. going to one of our houses in the evenings would work better for me.”

you slowly nod. “alright. um, my house is free…tomorrow evening. does that work?”

james nods, shooting you a smile. “i’ll see you then.” he says, heading down the hall. you both having walked to the exit throughout the talking.

you go to turn down the opposite way when you jump, ethan standing directly behind you. “ethan.” you breath out a sigh of relief. “hey.”

but ethan’s gaze is narrowed, glaring after your assignment partner. “are you…alright?” you slowly ask, raising a brow.

ethan shifts his gaze to you. “shame we didn’t get to work together.”

you nod. “yeah, it felt weird discussing topics with someone else.” you chuckle, adjusting the books in your grasp. “it took awhile to convince him to not do something generic.”

“hmm, same with my partner.” ethan agrees, a small smile edging his lips.

“what topic did you choose?” you ask, to which he answers, following with “we’ve decided to work in the library. not too happy bout that…with her of all people.”

“why not?” you tilt your head. “i offered the library to james but he insisted we work at one of our houses.”

ethan pauses, brows furrowing. “one of your houses?”

“yeah.” then you further mutter. “shit, i should probably clean up.”

“your house? you guys are working at your house?” ethan can’t help but let his annoyed tone slip.

you meet his gaze, a slight furrow to your brows at his tone. “yeah…”

he clenched his jaw. “you should…change that.”

“change that?” you repeat.

ethan nods. “you shouldn’t let someone like him into your house.”

“why not?” you’re genuinely confused.

“oh come on…” ethan clicks his jaw. “he’s a dick. i bet he only wants to get into your pants.”

you slightly raise your brows at his blatancy. “i’m sure you’re reading into it too much. he’ll just come, we’ll work, then he’ll go.”

“you’re not dumb, y/n.” he says pointedly. he had grown more annoyed at your persistence. “you have to have clearly seen that he was flirting with you.”

you shake your head. “we were just talking about the assignment—“

“his body language gave him away.” ethan interrupts.

you narrow your gaze. “were you watching us?”

ethan pauses for a moment. “i just…wanted to make sure he wasn’t doing that thing that you always hate.”

ah, yes, ‘the thing’ being taking full control over the assignment and making decisions without proper discussion. “well, that’s sweet…” you drift off. “but he was fine. If anything he was leaning more to the side of doing nothing.” you chuckle.

“see.” ethan is still persistent, and you’re not sure why. “he clearly won’t help you. you should change partners.”

“ethan.” you say slowly. “what’s gotten into you?”

he runs his tongue along his teeth, as he looks away a moment. “i just don’t want him taking advantage.”

you sigh. “ethan. i’m fine. he’s fine. i appreciate the concern though.” you smile. you hadn’t realised how much of a friend ethan had become over the lessons.

“do you?” he suddenly says. you’re slightly taken a back by his tone.

“ethan—“

“do you like him? is that it?” he can’t seem to control the words from slipping. his mind whirring with different possibilities.

you step back, not liking his expression. “i really don’t know why you’re acting like this.”

ethan steps closer again, his heart pulsing with anger. “do you like him?” he repeats. he’s talking down to you, and that aspect has a slight scowl forming on your face.

“so what if i like him?” you’re beginning to walk away. of course you don’t like james. but you didn’t appreciate ethan’s misplaced strong feelings about the situation and the way he displayed them.

ethan swiftly grabs your arm harshly. “seriously?”

you’ve had enough with whatever this is. so, you rip your arm away, and quickly head down the dispersing hallway.

;;

ethan fucked up. he shouldn’t have gotten angry over something he didn’t have a right to get angry over. and now you weren’t speaking to him. not that you talked much outside of classes. but when you were in them, you’d always sit beside each other.

and now you sat with james, not sparing ethan a glance. ethan gritted his teeth. it had been two days since you last spoke. you had had your ‘session’ with james at your house, and ethan was dying to know what had happened.

what had you two talked about? did you…do anything?

ethan had at first reciprocated your ignorance, not moving to speak to you either. but he had begun to grow desperate. he missed your voice. he tried to keep back, mad at you for entertaining this loser of a guy. but his control was slipping.

he glanced over at you as your head stayed down, writing notes, most likely, from the lecture. ethan tilted his head, watching as you tapped your pencil in thought, your leg moving up and down.

then he saw james walk in late, moving to take the seat beside you. but ethan quickly moved from his seat, grabbing his books as silently as possible as he took the empty seat.

you turn your head to stare at him, brows furrowing. you still didn’t know what had made ethan so angry before.

you shift your gaze back to the front of the lecture hall. ethan set his books down, the lesson continuing. james had to take ethan’s previous seat, and ethan couldn’t help but let a small smirk edge his lips.

he then glances back at you. you kept your head turned, your hair moving to hide the side of your face. ethan reaches his hand out, tucking your hair behind your ear so he could see you.

you turn to look at him, confused now. ethan’s gaze wandered your face, his eyes hooded with interest. you quickly turn your head away, staying silent.

ethan’s hand was still hovering by your ear. he then leaned closer to you, whispering, making your entire body stiffen. “can we talk after class?”

you lean away, acting as though your mind is occupied with the lecture. ethan grits his teeth. “y/n.”

you say nothing. and ethan’s resolve continues to crumble. “talk to me.” he tries to bring your face around to look at him, by a grip on your chin. but you yet again tilt your head away. you had always been stubborn. you were waiting for an apology and maybe this is what the ‘talk’ was about. but you’d rather hear it now, not him bringing you somewhere quiet.

ethan—like always—stayed persistent. “please.” you finally caught on to the desperation in his tone.

meeting his gaze, you could see his heavier breathing, his eyes focused entirely on you. you gulp, as you swat his hand away from your ear.

but he grabbed your moving hand instead. “i’ve had enough of the silent treatment.” he whispers.

you move to get your hand out of his grasp, but he just moves it under the table, holding it by his thigh. you try to move away again, but ethan just tightens his hold, looking back to the professor.

“ethan.” you hiss. “what are you doing?”

ethan’s lips curve up, his grip tightening around your hand, knowing he came out successful. “you spoke.”

you grit your teeth. ethan’s hand began to travel up your arm, keeping you at his side as he stared, only half reading the words written on the board. you shivered, his fingertips dragging across your skin.

“i’ll let go…if you say yes.” ethan says, keeping his taunting strokes along your skin.

“seriously?” you whisper.

“mhm.” ethan hums. you notice the professor walking closer to look at everyone’s progress so you quickly say “yes…alright, yes.”

ethan grins, letting go of you just as the professor nears.

;;

when the lecture ended, you began to pick up your books. ethan did the same, watching you closely. once he saw that you had your bag slung over your shoulder, he swiftly grabbed your wrist, pulling you to a more desolate part of the hallway.

you turn to him. “look ethan, i’m just conf—“

but you cut yourself off as you realise how close ethan stood. he had begun to step closer, his hand reaching out to touch your hair again. you lean away. “and you’re not helping my confusion.”

ethan’s brows furrow at your action. “i didn’t like you not talking to me.” he admitted.

you eye him. “it’s not like we talked much.”

“you started talking to james a lot more.”

you sigh. “look, if you’re gonna be all weird again, then please—“ you go to step away, but ethan quickly grabs your arm, stopping you.

“don’t go— just…” he breathes. “i’m…sorry.”

“you’re sorry?” you reiterate.

“i shouldn’t have…gotten mad.”

you slightly turn back to him. “no. you shouldn’t have. why did you?”

ethan gulps, his grip ever so slightly tightening around your arm, thinking you were gonna try and leave again.

“ethan?” you try but you can tell he’s in his head, thinking a mile a minute.

“i have to go.” you sigh, beginning to walk away again, but this time ethan yanks you back, his hand moving to your waist as he smashes his lips against yours.

you gasp, eyes widening. “eth—“

but you’re both stumbling back, ethan stepping forward as you stepped back, his mouth eagerly moving against yours.

a breathy sound left his lips, as he found your tongue. your eyes had rolled closed, your back hitting against the wall. ethan couldn’t help but let his hands wander your body, slipping under your shirt to graze against your bare hips.

your back unintentionally arches into him, making ethan press harder against you, one of his hands slipping to cup part of your jaw and ear, tilting your head how he wanted.

when you break for air, your chest is heaving, butterflies having swarmed your stomach, you speak. “ethan…i didn’t…i—“

“shut up.” he breathlessly whispered, eagerly capturing your lips again. her lips do taste like everything sweet—ethan thinks to himself, as he grinned against your mouth.

© messylustt.tumblr please don’t steal, copy or translate my work onto other platforms.

[tojiscrack]

𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐃𝐋𝐄 𝐒𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐎𝐋

summary: 22.8k words — it’s a change of scenery, change of friends, and even a change of dynamics. you and megumi go through all of middle school together.

notes: popping this one out at 4am where i live. you bitches better be GRATEFUL after begging for this update 0-0 the next update, before anyone asks, is probably going to take even LONGER bc i have to focus on my levi fic. don’t give me that look — that hasn’t been updated since november 😧

tw: swearing (like, once, i believe).

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

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.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2014-2015 sixth grade

'the day's nearly over' you reminded yourself over and over again as you walked down the unfamiliar hallways.

they told you that middle school was different, but nobody warned you about how independent you'd have to be from here on out. you found yourself comparing nearly everything to elementary school, which you were comfortably attending not even six weeks ago. you did not think you'd prefer elementary school, especially not with the monster of a teacher that you were blessed with for two years in a row, but when you found that you didn't share every single class of yours with megumi, you grew more and more disappointed.

you only shared four out of the eight classes you had in a day with him. it didn't help that you ended up picking theatre and he ended up picking art.

so you found yourself walking down the long hallway and taking the first left where you knew the theatre area was (curtesy of the open days you'd attended during the fifth grade) with the comforting conversation you'd had with your mom before she dropped you off at school in the morning.

during the summer, over on friday night dinner at satoru's place (the usual), it had been vaguely discussed how you and megumi would now be able to walk yourselves to your new school without the suffocating presence of one (or even both) of your parents. the excitement of it all came with the thought of starting an entirely new school, though it faded after the familiarity of your normal routine — where your mothers dropped you off with kisses and lots of smiles — changed completely the second your foot crossed over the line that indicated school grounds.

for the first day, your parents insisted on dropping all of you off (uncle ogi included, even though it was only maki and mai's second year here) and before you could follow your friends past the school gate, your mom had rubbed your back soothingly, as if she knew something you didn't.

you realised what it was now — a big change. though it wasn't entirely unpleasant, you just weren't too used to it.

at the end of the corridor, outside of the theatre hall, you could see people going in and out, movement very clear from where you were standing. however, the closer you got, the two stagnant figures at the end if the hall became more clear to you: a boy about your height and a girl taller than the both of you.

you weren't an eavesdropper (in most circumstances) but here, you could tell that there was some uncomfortable tension surrounding the two of them, so you paid attention as you leaned against the wall. you had time till your lesson started, you figured that you could use the spare time for something juicy.

"sorry, no... i don't really know who you are," the girl spoke, her voice soft as silk as she adjusted the singular strap of her bag over her shoulder.

immediately, you became well aware of what was occurring before you — the guy was asking the girl out. and it seemed that, judging from the girl's delicate response, they had only just met.

expecting the boy to back off and leave, you averted your attention to the display board hanging on the opposite wall, showcasing several plays that the school had their theatre students successfully perform. however, even as you found yourself immersed in the talent that was presented in polaroids and printed images, your ears could not block out the heated argument that the boy had then started.

"i never wanted to be with you anyways," he began, expression feral by the time you'd turned your head to see it. "you're a bitch, and you're never gonna get asked out again. i only did it because i felt sorry for you."

your brows had already knitted themselves together as you watched the boy go on a tangent with his displeasure on getting rejected. you silently examined for the next couple of seconds to see if the girl would defend herself, throw in a few casual responses as well, maybe, but when the slightly busy corridor only echoed the conversations of the ignorant teens walking by as if nothing major was happening, you knew she was too polite to say anything.

he opened his nasty mouth once more — perhaps to spew more venomous lies and pointless insults — but was cut off by your cruel intervention.

"look who's talking, with a mouth like yours, that underbite's making it difficult for me to see if you're a camel or human."

you imitated his underbite, jutting out your bottom teeth in a rather aggressive manner. and you weren't done there — you raised a gentle hand over the girl in a hesitant manner, a silent question as to whether you had permission to touch her. when the girl nodded ever so slightly, you continued with your theatrics.

"go out with me," you cried, underbite still exaggeratively visible. "otherwise no one else will!"

"neanderthal-looking motherfucker," a pretty, dark-haired girl added swiftly. you looked over your shoulder, following the sound of the confident voice. she was standing behind the three of you, apparently attentive to what had been happening before her.

you grinned, turning back to the dumbfounded boy once more. "yeah, clear example of failed evolution, guys."

it seemed that the boy had had enough, turning away and scoffing to himself as he pulled up his loose pants and stomped off, fuming. you half expected smoke to flow out of his ears, surprised when he silently disappeared without commotion.

"i hate guys," the short-haired helper commented casually, eyes still focused on the end of the corridor where he'd last been seen by the three of you.

you nodded. "me too."

"thank you so much," the other girl said with a smile, looking more relieved than ever. her blonde hair, which was already tied back in a low ponytail, was tangled between her pale fingers. maybe it was a nervous tic. "he's in my math class, he tried talking to me there too."

"ugh, forget him, you're literally so gorgeous," the fiercer one of the two girls replied with a sigh. "anyway, are you two here for theatre?"

"oh, no, not me," the other girl responded, her pale cheeks now dusted with a light pink. it had been, no doubt, due to the compliment she received. she shook her head. "i left my bag over here so i had to come back and get it, but i'll see you guys around — i'm kat, short for katie."

"y/n," you introduced yourself with a smile.

"i'm nobara," said the dark haired girl.

the pleasantries and small conversations did not last long, for kat had to run off after a short while, hurriedly explaining to you and nobara that her next lesson was in the complete opposite side of the building. the two of you waved off her apology as she scrambled to secure her bag over her shoulder and run off mid-conversation, reassuring her that she was fine and she had nothing to worry about.

when it was just you and nobara left, and she didn't make a move to leave, you knew she was in the same theatre class.

"i don't swear often," she told you, as the both of you made your way into the theatre hall.

immediately, your vision blanked, unable to see through the complete darkness and lack of light. at first, you almost believed that you made it to the wrong room, but after hearing whispers from your other supposed classmates wondering the same (only aloud) you knew you couldn't have gotten it wrong.

nobara seemed unfazed as she continued her incomplete sentence:

"— but guys really irritate me."

you nodded, and then mentally slapped yourself when you remembered that she couldn't see you — unless she had some weird type of supernatural night vision. you almost laughed at that: if megumi were here, he'd complain about abilities as such being 'not real'.

the lights switched on suddenly, blinding you and the rest of your classmates momentarily. you shut your eyes immediately, face scrunched in distaste at the foolish decision made by whoever had turned the lights on without a simple warning.

by the time you opened your eyes, you found who the culprit was — your (apparently dramatic) and first ever theatre teacher: mr white. he was a lanky old man with a bent posture and thin, rectangle glasses that sat on the bridge of his pointy nose.

"don't let him hear you say that," you muttered with a unsuccessful attempt to hide your smile as he introduced himself with a voice way too loud for this late in the day. "he looks like a scientist."

"he's a theatre teacher," nobara pointed out with a raised brow.

"but he looks like a mad scientist," you continued stubbornly.

nobara regarded you with a look of oddity and for a moment, you were afraid that it'd be a whole new situation where she'd snitch on you for saying such a thing (it had happened back at elementary before; that was a story for another time), but she proved you wrong when her face broke out in a grin, not tight to show that it was forced, and not too expressive to show that it was fake.

"i see it," she agreed with a laugh. "good eye!"

and without even realising it, as the two of you sat together by the cinema-like seats and compared your timetables with one another (you shared six out of eight classes with her!), you had made your first new friend other than megumi.

bonus point: she's a girl!

maybe middle school wasn't so bad. especially not when you and nobara had become mr white's favourite to use as demonstrations for the lesson ("...see? for example, let's say... you, what's your name? y/n? lovely! let's say y/n here had to do a performance. she wouldn't be able to say no even if she hated it because that's professio— huh? you would say no? oh... that's bold. oh, did you day something? what's your name? nobara — okay, well the thing is, you can't just refuse to work with men all the time — no you can't hit them if they tell you that you have to, girls").

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you let out a gasp of shock when megumi and another pink-haired boy approached you and nobara by the lockers. the final lesson on both of your timetables was physical education, which nobara had audibly expressed that she absolutely detested. you weren't bad at sports at all — in fact, you were rather good at things like gymnastics, basketball and dodgeball if you really tried, but physical education as a lesson?

you never took it seriously.

you were sure that during elementary school, you'd cost your team a game because you completely stood still and examined your nails when one of your teammates wanted to pass the ball to you.

but while nobara's concerns were about the next lesson she was dreading, yours were about the two boys approaching you, particularly the bright-eyed, tall, pink-haired one.

pink hair? you thought to yourself with a grimace. what a weirdo.

you could not find it in yourself to believe that megumi fushiguro, ever the stoic and heartless one, made friends with a (you assumed was friendly) pink-haired guy. your mind had to put extra emphasis on the pink-haired part of his description. surely he hadn't actually wanted to dye his hair pink? surely it must've been an accident that just so happened to have occurred just before the first day of middle school — quite like how you and uncle ogi accidentally dyed one half of mai's hair blue while the other remained pink at some point during fourth grade...

but with the way the boy carried himself, his hands casually resting in his pockets as he walked down the hallway with megumi, an unwavering smile plastered over his gentle face, you were under the assumption that the result of his hair was no accident.

weird.

megumi acknowledged you with raised brows the moment he came within hearing distance of you. he barely acknowledged nobara, whose brows had furrowed in a skeptical manner when it became clear that yes, megumi and his friend were indeed approaching you.

"what's your next class?" said megumi, sounding gloomier than usual. perhaps he'd been having the same thoughts about starting a new school as you had — everyone knew that megumi hated change.

the boy next to him raised a hand and waved. you turned back to your childhood friend with narrowed eyes.

"first of all, it's p.e," you said hurriedly, the sound of nobara closing her locker echoing around the halls. people were starting to come out of their classes, heading to their next one. "secondly, did you just replace me?"

megumi released a small exhale through his nose to show his disbelief at your question. through half-lidded eyes, he averted his gaze from you to nobara, scowling. it was clear what he was indicating, and you weren't very impressed with his silent words.

"this is nobara and she's actually better than you, so..." you introduced her without even looking at her.

megumi's pink-haired companion spoke up just after you.

"i'm yuji," he said helpfully, the smile still present on his face despite your very loud claim of megumi having betrayed you by apparently 'replacing' you with this yuji.

yuji... the name fit, somehow.

"megumi," the messy-haired boy replied, barely smiling or making an attempt to seem welcoming at all.

nobara leaned in towards you, uncaring of whether the two boys noticed or not.

"he looks like he used to pick his boogers and eat them," she whispered, her chin lifting to gesture at yuji. before you could put your input on that, her gaze shifted back to megumi. "and he looks entitled — didn't even start with 'i'm' or 'my name is'. you're seriously friends with this guy?"

"oh that's just what megumi does. he's just angry at life for no reason, you'll get used to it!" you clarified brightly.

megumi did not like that. he raised his pale hand to flick your forehead, and you were so invested in making fun of him, you hadn't realised that he was aiming to do it until you felt the harsh sting of the attack just after he'd dropped his hand back to his side.

"ouch!" you hissed, rubbing your forehead and glaring at him. "why did you do that porcupine? i was gonna introduce myself to yuji!"

"don't bother," he responded, teeth gritted as your loose tongue slipped out the embarrassing nickname you'd made for him. "already told him your name —"

"porcupine?" repeated yuji, only further agitating megumi, who had a clenched jaw now. he faced up at your mutual friend — yuji was about the same height as you, and megumi had grown slightly over the summer so it grew a little more difficult to be able to see the the entire surface area of his messy hair as easily as you once used to. but yuji had decided that he'd seen enough when he let out a boisterous laugh. "hey, i see it! you look like a porcupine!"

as you and nobara laughed at the expression on megumi's face, yuji continued to explain what he'd meant, even as megumi glared at him with enough intensity to potentially kill.

"'cause... 'cause your hair —"

"i get it," he snapped, effectively ending the open-day-on-megumi-fushiguro.

"i like you y/n," said yuji, shortly after.

you beamed. "i like me too!"

megumi watched the interaction before him, his mind immediately figuring out a way to piss you off the same way you managed to piss him off. after knowing you for so long, and going through thick and thin with each other, it wasn't hard for megumi to plunge his hand into the pit in his mind where his witty responses remained, and pull something out to at least render you the slightest bit speechless (his record timing of keeping you silent with embarrassment had been five seconds).

"so do we all have p.e then?" nobara questioned, seemingly accepting the fact that megumi and yuji were going to be with you for the rest of your time here at middle school. it didn't mean that she was necessarily pleased, however, but she did like you and would remain friends with you even if it meant having to be around the two boys.

"yeah, but we're not in the same classes," you said, defeated. "nobara and i are though!"

"are we in their class?" yuji cluelessly asked megumi.

the aloof boy shrugged. "i don't know, ask the mermaid."

time stopped for you.

"the mermaid?" both yuji and nobara repeated with confusion.

there was ringing in both your ears, forcing you to grow less and less attentive of the bewilderment surrounding your two new friends. something in your stomach was wiggling, encouraging you to bend over and release the contents of that morning's breakfast down, eyes narrowing to prevent it all. your jaw had become less tense, slowly dropping to allow your soft lips to form an 'o', your expression softening all the while. your vision grew blurry, not through tears, no, but through the growing heat beneath your skin all over your body. you unknowingly clenched your fists, nails digging into the ends of your palms to form half-moon crescents into your smooth skin.

you had never felt such rage course through your body — your soul, even — in the eleven years of life that you'd been living. it didn't come as a surprise to you that megumi would be the reason, but you'd hoped that out of everything he could have said to anyone in the future, it would be anything but that.

his voice echoed in your mind even though you could clearly see his lips remained unmoving.

'i don't know, ask the mermaid...'

'(...) know, ask the mermaid...'

'ask the mermaid...'

'(...) the mermaid...'

'(...) mermaid...'

mermaid.

the scene before you had flashed before your eyes, the embarrassment you'd felt at the end of the day when you'd later failed to convince everyone that you just so happened to be a mermaid.

the shame brought upon you during the family dinner that week, and how easily it was for everyone to make fun of you when usually, it was always you that managed to poke fun at someone.

"megumi fushiguro," you started slowly, cutting through yuji's random theory about what 'mermaid' could have possibly meant. the traitor you were addressing raised a brow at you expectantly. "how dare you."

before he could open his mouth and retort, (nobara began talking: "what are you— oh!") you stepped forward and pulled his hair, your ultimate move as he gripped your wrist tightly, one eye shut and one eye open in pain. you didn't stop there, raising your leg to kick him in the knee. you shoved him away, dusting yourself off as if you'd touched the dirtiest thing the world had to offer.

he regained his composure easily, glaring at you throughout it all.

"ouch," he said, face straight and firm.

nobara gave him a look of disgust, everyone collectively ignoring yuji's difficulty in standing up straight to stop himself from laughing (megumi slapped his hand off of his shoulder when he attempted to use it as a grip).

you threw your chin in the air with a look of something between victory and annoyance.

"don't embarrass me in front of nobara ever again."

nobara would have laughed at that, but she was too occupied with her absolute discontent towards megumi and his reaction to your attack.

"why are you acting like that didn't hurt?" she demanded fiercely.

megumi shrugged, his hands still planted casually in the pockets of his school pants.

"seriously, how are you friends with this guy?" she then asked you, regarding your moody friend with a look of contempt.

"after this? we're not friends," you declared. but your decision hadn't lasted even five seconds before you stared up at him with disbelief. "megumi, where's your friendship bracelet?"

he looked down at his empty wrist. "i took it off."

"oh — oh, i see how it is," you snapped, taking nobara's hand and stomping away.

the boys watched you walk off, megumi looking exhausted and yuji sporting a wide smile. you were glad nobara did not put up any resistance in being dragged away. in fact, she seemed to be pushing further so she could take the lead instead.

"you'll never — see this face — again!" you called out over your shoulder.

for the brief moment you caught each other's gazes, you were submerged in a moment of betrayal when he did not seem the slightest bit upset. megumi merely stared back at you, deadpanned, the further you walked.

"we're going the same way," he brutally commented.

you hated that he was always right. would it kill him to be wrong just for a bit? if only to save yourself from the embarrassment once again?

"i know."

you hadn't. you'd forgotten.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

physical education felt like you'd joined the military here in middle school — why hadn't maki warned you of that? though arguably, when you and mai had spoken about starting the school, she'd mentioned how difficult it would be, and how maki was such a loser that she took this course incredibly serious.

you weren't bad at sports at all. in fact, you enjoyed it. the annual family football game meant that you had to enjoy it because it was a necessity — you remembered how mai found it super difficult to keep up with everyone else just because her interests lied elsewhere. winning was very important to you, so you always opted to choose mai last whenever you ended up being captain of your team.

that being said, all of that wouldn't be believable if anyone saw the stance you were taking now at the dodgeball game coach yaga (a broad, angry man with flattened hair and sunglasses who seemed to dislike you the most) had organised for you all.

though your timetables had made it extremely crystal clear that you and nobara were not in the same class as megumi and yuji were for p.e, coach yaga had all the classes merge for the first lesson ever to play one massive round of dodgeball. you were pleased to find that the four of you were all on the same team, though the coach began to slowly regret his choice, particularly when the first round had started and he'd finally, properly met you, y/n l/n.

the second his whistle went off, every single person in your team (and the one across you) dashed forward to grab at the balls lined in the centre of the field. everyone except from you.

see, you had stayed back and admired the grass beneath your sneakers, fond at how vibrant the green was. the coach was shouting at someone, and perhaps you should have paid attention to who, especially when you saw him glaring in your direction. you looked back, as if trying to see if he was shouting at someone behind you, only to be met with the empty air of space. you turned, raising your brows as you placed your pointer finger on your chest and mouthed a startled 'me?'.

"YES, YOU!" he'd bellowed, arms outstretched in disbelief. "WHO ELSE?"

you looked around, indeed trying to find who else and only growing distracted with how impressed you were at yuji's speed since he'd been the first out of both teams to reach the line of balls and take them.

"go yuji!" you cheered joyfully. "i've got your back —" you announced proudly, and when you tried moving forward to help, a ball missed you by two inches. you stepped back again. "... from right here!"

"what the hell are you, a cheerleader?" coach yaga demanded. "GET ON THE FIELD!"

"i am!" you argued back, gesturing to where you were standing which, indeed, was on the field.

you were growing very frustrated with whoever this damn coach was. the first time he'd yelled at you, you let it slide. now, however, you were starting to get annoyed.

"GET ON THE —" he started, turning away and sighing when two of your teammates had been hit below the waist. "YOU — WHAT'S YOUR NAME?"

oh this is bad, you thought to yourself in fear. the very last thing you needed was a phone call home to your mom on your literal first day of a whole new school. you did not want a repeat of elementary school, but you could see the way coach yaga was glaring at you. it was almost similar to the way mrs davis — your fifth grade teacher — would stare at you: a menacing expression, made to intimidate you, no doubt.

you looked around, trying to formulate a plan in your head. the smartest idea was most likely to simply participate, but with how serious everyone seemed (some blonde dude from the other team literally screamed at another guy for not catching the ball) you had no desire to be apart of it all.

you turned back to coach yaga when he continued to demand your name.

"it's — it's megumi," you lied, mindful of the fact that megumi was at the front of the field, participating with such ease — the importance of that was to make sure that he hadn't heard you: he'd definitely tell the coach the truth instead (especially because your lie was at his expense).

the coach seemed skeptical, raising a brow at you and pushing his sunglasses further up the bridge of his nose. you noticed how his hands were slightly more tanned than his face.

"you don't look like a megumi," he said, as he pointed at another student to silently tell them that they were out.

you did not know what to do then. how else were you supposed to convince him that your name was megumi? perhaps you could grow defensive... make him feel guilty for criticising your fake-name? no, you thought wisely, that would attract attention from megumi.

but it seemed that for the first time ever, luck was on your side — for coach yaga had grumbled under his breath, and through the loud yells of your fellow classmates, you heard each and every word he uttered.

"but i remember a megumi from the register..." he looked up at you again. "right. go and help your team!"

your head slowly turned to your fellow teammates, all of whom were working diligently to secure themselves a win. you drew back — dodgeball is never that serious. they were acting like their lives were on the line.

"um — i'm fine over here, actually," you giggled, muttering out a small 'ooh' whilst also flinching at the sight of nobara purposely aiming for that same tall, angry dude on the other team; she managed to hit him successfully.

"that wasn't an option," he spoke, his voice growing in volume with each word, until finally... "GO HELP YOUR TEAM, MEGUMI!"

megumi, who had quite literally just done exactly that by managing to take out the most competitive player of the other team, turned his head at the scolding he'd apparently received.

you had to hold back a laugh, puffing out your cheeks with the breath of air you'd held in to help with that. you were somewhat grateful for yaga's glasses as they made it difficult to see who he was looking at.

megumi, confused at the random scolding he received (one he firmly believed he did not deserve when that blonde girl on his left could barely throw at a proper distance), straightened up and turned his attention back to the game, catching a ball that had been thrown at him and ultimately leaving said-thrower out of the game.

meanwhile, you actually took several tentative steps forward, noticing a ball rolling at your feet. bending down, you picked it up and examined it for a moment. you raised it high, ready to throw it...

— to your teammate because you had no actual intention of participating in this inhumane sport ever.

coach yaga clearly did not like that:

"WHAT THE HELL ARE YOU DOING, MEGUMI?"

the actual megumi turned his head to glare at the coach, who looked extremely irate. megumi did not understand — what was he doing wrong? why on earth was this man distracting him from playing for his team? was he purposely being biased, distracting him for no reason to allow the other team to secure a win?

he was growing angrier for every second yaga continued to scold him for doing the exact thing he kept saying megumi wasn't doing: catching the ball? he'd done it thrice. throwing the ball? he just did. participating? what the hell was he doing the entire game then, if not participating?

all the while, you had to turn away and place a hand over your mouth, your chest heaving every time coach yaga yelled at you and referred to you as megumi. it only grew more difficult to hold back a laugh, particularly when megumi would stand up and glare at the coach.

you somehow ended up in the middle of your team's side of the field, which was not what you wanted at all. but before you could turn and walk back to what you claimed as your designated spot at the very back of the field, you noticed your shoelace untied.

"oh!" you said, hearing coach yaga yell 'your' name as you bent down to tie your laces together again.

unbeknownst to you, when you'd ducked to do your laces, a ball had been thrown, and while it was meant for you, your action had allowed it to fly over you and hit another player who just so happened to have been standing behind you.

that must've been it for coach yaga, because at that time, he'd yelled at you louder than you'd ever heard him do so in the past fifteen minutes.

"MEGUMI, WHY DIDN'T YOU CATCH THAT BALL?" he bellowed, his grip on his whistle tightening so much, you could see his veins bulging. "YOU COST YOUR TEAM A PLAYER!"

the look on megumi's face was outrageous: his brows were furrowed so much that some of his forehead (that was usually mostly concealed by his fluffy hair) was slowly starting to show as he swiped a warm hand across his face in both exhaustion and irritation. he was now under the impression that coach yaga either picked on him for the sake of it, or that he was simply blind. it would explain the sunglasses he wore indoors.

megumi then unconsciously came up with the counterargument that satoru did the same, though he easily countered it with the fact that the white-haired male was simply foolish and incompetent.

megumi truly believed that, unlike satoru, yaga wasn't foolish or incompetent. he liked his strict nature. initially.

now, however, megumi was slowly growing to hate the man for spewing up lies about things that megumi had apparently done (when did he run away from an incoming ball?).

so being accused of costing a team a player when he'd indeed caught a ball and gave the team back a player was where he had to put his foot down. enough was enough.

"i didn't!" he snapped, yaga's head tilting and brows furrowing menacingly. megumi could have sworn that he also looked challenged, in a sense.

yaga let out a noise, something between a scoff and a gasp. he seemed almost confused.

"who are you, boy?"

megumi glowered. "megumi."

you watched the conversation playing out before you, watched as someone caught a ball that had been flying towards megumi's distracted figure, watched as yuji apologised to a girl he'd taken out of the game, watched as your plan deteriorated before you.

you had two options:

you could go ahead and distract coach yaga, turn his attention back to you and make him completely forget that a random, angry boy just lied about his name being yours... or, you could stand back and enjoy the show. after all, it was rather amusing, and you didn't actually believe that your lie could be held out for so long (though you were surprised with how much megumi had tolerated).

you chose the latter. it was fun.

"oh so you're the new class clown, are you?" said coach yaga, and you nearly choked on your own laughter when you saw megumi's offended expression. "nice try — megumi's a girl name."

oh, you thought with amusement. he pulled the perfect card; you watched as megumi's expression had softened (still glowering, always) and spoke under his breath.

"not a girl's name..."

"you trying to be funny, boy?" coach yaga continued brutally. he unfolded his arms. "you're not megumi. she is!"

your cover had been blown: megumi's head turned, leisurely, slowly, almost as if he was hoping, praying to the lord above, that 'she' wasn't who he thought it was.

but when his gaze met yours and found the amusement dancing around your features as you crouched to poorly hide your laughter, he knew his prayers had been dismissed.

of course. why did he even care to believe in hope at this point?

megumi might have been having the worst day of his life, but you were experiencing your best. it wasn't even coach yaga's exclamations that had you reeling (though it was a good contributing factor) it was megumi's realisation, the scowl on his face, the deadpanned look he sent as he sighed loudly, so much so that it almost sounded like a drawn out groan. there wasn't even a point in hiding your laughter from both him and coach yaga anymore, it was clear as day that you were enjoying every bit of this.

megumi was angry.

"i'm megumi," he informed coach yaga. "not her."

coach yaga didn't take that lightly.

"you — megumi is not your name, boy, what are you yapping about?" he demanded, almost growing. he reminded you of that one scene from your favourite anime 'attack on titan' where the teacher — keith shadis — yells at his students, face contorted to form an expression that looked rather funny to you.

"megumi is my name," your angry friend responded, side-stepping away from a ball that had been thrown at him. he glared at you. "that was your fault."

you raised a brow. "how? you dodged it."

he ignored you, choosing to glower at coach yaga instead.

"her name is y/n."

"the hell?"

you thought it was the perfect chance to confuse him even further. you called out to the coach from your favourite position at the back.

"no, no, he's right!" you informed him loudly. "he's megumi!"

coach yaga stared at you, positively startled. "what —"

"yeah, he's not lying! his name is megumi!"

coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed loudly. you waited patiently for him to look up, and eventually, when he did, he took his sunglasses off to finally address you, bare eyed and all.

you raised your brows in surprised anticipation.

"right — megumi — y/n — whatever the hell your name is — GET OVER HERE!"

you jumped, turning away and skipping forwards.

"erm — no thanks! i'll just start playing now!"

and true to your word, despite his loud protests (and how very verbal they were), you intercepted and caught a ball, saving a distracted girl on your team, and allowing one of your defeated teammates to return back to the field.

you beamed, waving the ball over your head at yaga.

"see? i did it!"

but you frowned at the sight of a particular player returning to the field due to your impeccable catch. you remembered him to be the random voice yelling at you to 'catch the ball!' or 'help us!'. how ironic.

"um — no, i don't want you back in the game," you said, walking up to him and pointing at the line of players that were out. "not after you shouted at me — don't look at me like that — it's my catch! you can be back in the game," you added to another player.

coach yaga screamed at you from in between the two lines of defeated players.

"YOU DON'T GET TO DECIDE THAT!"

you averted your gaze from your classmate to the coach, slowly regarding him with a look of something in between disbelief and annoyance. you repressed the urge to scoff at him. what ridiculous rules he had made. you didn't remember dodgeball being this strict.

"well i think you should change that dumb rule," you told him, holding the ball beneath your pit and resting your weight on your left leg. "anyway, what are you waiting for?" you asked the other boy you wanted back on your team. "go!"

he was a stammering mess, gesturing from coach yaga to the field, muttering something about 'but i don't think i'm allowed to' or something along those lines. you were growing more impatient with every stutter, with every stammer, with every bit of hesitation.

sighing, you turned to the player that was actually meant to be back in the game, and gestured behind you at the field.

"ugh, you just go because he's taking too long and it's making me tired."

it was funny, because despite coach yaga's fury towards you, that boy had only gone and rightfully joined the game after you demanded so. perhaps p.e lessons weren't so bad, what had nobara been complaining about back when you had a conversation about sports by her locker? p.e was fantastic.

until your ears began to ring again. coach yaga had turned a deep shade of burgundy.

"HEY, THAT'S IT!" he bellowed, and to your complete surprise (and fear), he began stomping forward, making a move for you despite the game continuing.

you squeaked, dropping the ball and running away, unaware of the chaos that had ensued after the referee left his position. you noticed how several players from both teams thought it'd be wise to run back on the field, playing as though they had not quite literally cheated due to the coach's distraction. the thought would have made you laugh had you not been running for your life.

you looked over your shoulder and nearly fell over when someone from the opposing team had recklessly thrown a ball in your team's direction, only for it to hit coach yaga on his thigh.

you stopped, eyes darting over to the culprit who turned out to be a very tall, lanky, brunette kid. his eyes had turned as wide as saucers at the realisation of the gravity of what he'd done. you turned back to coach yaga, shaking your head at him.

"sir you're out," you alerted him helpfully.

you hadn't noticed yuji hovering over your shoulder, megumi standing idly beside him and nobara observing with poorly contained amusement.

"she's right y'know," you heard yuji comment to megumi lowly, but you knew that if you had been able to hear it, coach yaga had definitely heard it too. "he is out —"

you thought you made coach yaga absolutely lose it when he made his move towards you, walking through the ongoing game because he'd just about had it, but you did not know that there was more patience left in him to narrow, not until he stood before you now, fingers half curled inwards and hovering over his own head. you would've assumed that he was going to rip his own hair out, but then you noticed how he didn't really have any to do so.

it was when he started visibly vibrating on the spot, and practically acting feral with untamed indignation, did you fully realise the extent of just how short this man's temper was.

a noise bubbled out of his throat, something akin to a howl. you snorted.

"wait — why's he glitching?" you laughed, watching the odd scene unfold before you.

"oh — he's spazzing out," said yuji, sounding almost concerned despite speaking with a curious air of thoughtfulness.

"men," sighed nobara, eyeing coach yaga critically.

megumi observed his teacher, unbothered. "she broke our teacher."

"i did not break him!" you snapped, but then noticed something that made you clap excitedly. "megumi! he's growling like bear from masha and the bear!" you chortled loudly, slapping away his hand that had extended past yuji to pinch at your arm.

"you couldn't have stopped yourself?" said megumi, eyes half-lidded and seeming slightly bored, not nearly as interested in coach yaga's odd actions as much as everyone else.

you frowned. "huh —"

"it's the first day."

"i know that," you said brightly. "what's your point?"

megumi walked away from you, muttering something under his breath.

it didn't take long before everyone lost interest in the dodgeball game at hand and became more fascinated with the way coach yaga ordered you to get off the playing field and face the other way, apparently in a middle-school version of time out. you scowled. a school for 'big kids', they said. they'll treat you like 'adults', they said.

what lies.

after the twenty minutes of the first round was up, he sent you back on the field with your team, but not before borderline threatening you.

"hey — you," he said, once you'd excitedly waved at nobara. you looked up at him, curious. "you better fix up, or else."

"or else what?"

"or else."

you tilted your head when he left it at that, opting to stare at you in some weird method that was made to, no doubt, intimidate you.

"i don't get it. or else what?"

he groaned loudly. "don't make me shout. get on the field and participate."

you definitely did one of the two things: you stepped out on the field and joined your old friend (and your two new friends) and chatted their ears off with enthusiasm. but as for the latter...

you still faced issues with obeying that particular order.

dodgeball just was not fun when you were so strict about it, so instead of lingering at the back like you had previously done, you joined nobara and stood behind her for moral support.

"i want to get that guy out," she told you, and while it may have looked like you were both conversing about plans for the game to an outsider, you knew all too well that it would only be nobara who formed a game plan.

you side-stepped a lousily thrown ball when you spotted something from the corner of your eye.

"look, nobara! that cloud looks like a bum!"

"what — OW!"

distracted by your observation, nobara had averted her gaze from the opposing team for a single second before she found herself clutching her eye, bulging in pain due to the ball that had made contact with it.

you gasped. her hand hovered over her injury. coach yaga yelled at you furiously.

nobara had to sit out for the rest of the round, a bag of frozen peas pressed against her eye as she lazily slouched on the chair. you scolded the attacker, ignoring the way coach yaga scolded you.

"stop shouting at him when it was your fault!"

"okay okay," you scowled, walking backwards without keeping your eyes off of the coach, your back meeting the side of a warm body.

you turned, startled when yuji's pink hair brushed your cheek.

"oh, careful!" he said, helping you stand properly. he looked over your shoulder, flinching when nobara glared at him simply for meeting her gaze. "damn, nobara seems pissed."

"yeah, it's all that guy's fault," you said, pointing at the boy who had thrown the ball at her.

"wasn't it your fault?" said yuji, frowning at you.

your gaze hardened rapidly. whose side was he on? yours, or that random dude that had the ugliest smirk you had ever seen and was the actual reason nobara was benched for this round? you liked yuji, but you were very disappointed with him now.

"i didn't throw the ball at her."

"yeah but you distracted her —"

you screamed, grabbing yuji by his skinny arms and pulling him in front of you to use him as a human shield. he was surprisingly easy to manoeuvre, moving in the exact direction you had intended with no difficulty whatsoever. half a second later, he had let out a pained groan when the incoming ball met his abdomen just below his waist.

coach yaga blew his whistle.

"you poor kid, you're out," he shouted over the cheers of the other team.

yuji looked at you over his shoulder, incensed and desperate. you let go of his arms and released a long breath.

"heh — erm — thanks for your sacrifice, yuji."

"seriously?" he demanded. "that's what you say after you get me out?"

"sorry, it was every man for himself!" you reasoned with a helpless shrug.

"one of us is a man," he grumbled, making his way towards the line of players that were out.

you waved at him, turning around and then stumbling backwards when megumi's neck had been mere inches from your own face.

"oh — porcupine —"

"don't."

"you scared me!"

he glared at you. "stay away from me."

well that wasn't very nice. megumi never ever expressed his love for you or how you were the greatest friend in the world, which you were used to, that had never been a problem. he definitely insulted you here and there (often) but he gave as good as he got. however, never had he ever said something as rude as that with very little context.

you were not impressed.

"that's rude," you stated with a huff.

"you got those two sent out," he said, quick as a flash. "that's rude."

you rolled your eyes at him. "that's not even true," you said, before pushing his shoulder with yours to walk away from him, only to turn back and add something else. "and i don't even want to stay with you anyway."

"good."

"good!"

"oi, the two megumis!" yelled coach yaga.

the two of you simultaneously looked at the coach. megumi grumbled.

"GET ON WITH IT!"

your ex-friend's head turned to face you once more, and you watched as he scowled at you, his jaw tense and nostrils flaring.

"get away from me," he ordered you coldly.

you raised a brow at him, critical and incredulous.

"no," you said, disbelief hanging onto the single syllable. "it's a free country!"

"i was here first," he responded quickly, with all the passion and excuse of a bratty child.

"yeah well guess what porcupine? i don't care."

"you should. you're gonna get me out somehow."

"whatever," you said, before turning to walk away.

but then you hurriedly turned back, wanting to address something very quickly. megumi had already shaped the rest of his body in a competitive stance, knees bent and arms extended. his brows were furrowed, eyeing the opposing team almost menacingly, though he looked more focused and concentrated than he did angry. he barely moved his head to look at you when you spoke again.

"oh, and by the way," you stated, pointer finger raised to emphasise your statement, "i'm only walking away because i want to. not because you told me to, so..."

"i don't care," he'd said, just as you'd turned your back to him for the nth time within a single minute.

but history showed that the two of you always fought for the last word and you would definitely not lose your two-year-long streak over some stupid dodgeball game.

so you spun on the spot again, ignoring the menacing look he'd sent you.

"i don't want to stand next to you anyways. i'll stand next to someone who actually wears the friendship bracelet i give them —"

you walked off (for real this time) just as megumi stood up straight and yelled after you.

"i had to take a shower!"

"for what?" you demanded, choosing to walk backwards this time so you could continue walking and talking. "you come out looking scruffy anyw— look out!"

he barely budged when the ball hit his leg, seemingly accepting his cruel fate. you froze when he sent you the stink eye, sheepishly shrugging when coach yaga's whistle cut through the tense silence.

"megumi number two, you're out!"

megumi stood completely still, shoulders drooped and eyelids heavy. you thought he looked like uncle ogi when he sat in his special arm chair and simply contemplated his life. it would have been funny if not for the harsh circumstances. megumi only looked up to address the coach.

"it's just megumi —"

"okay just megumi — GET OFF THE FIELD!"

and as he did just that, you did not miss the small 'stupid mermaid' he muttered to himself.

the slightest tinge of guilt that slyly crawled its way into your stomach and sat there comfortably like a turtle in its shell had been fought off by your immune system the second you'd heard him curse you with that stupid nickname. you didn't feel bad about the loss of that dumb porcupine from your team. he barely brought anything to the table to begin with: excitement? he had no humour. personality? he was boring. style? look at his hair.

the next ten minutes of the game had you almost pleasantly surprised: the majority of your team found themselves standing in the line of defeated players, simply observing, watching and waiting for some warrior to come in and catch a ball for them (seeing as you certainly would not). it had become so frequent, so consistent that everyone but you would somehow get hit by the ball, that the rest of the game was barely dodgeball — it was a waiting game.

they were waiting on you.

to either pick up the ball and throw it, or catch the next ball flying at you.

you did neither.

and because you'd done neither, all the balls had ended up on your end of the field, meaning that members of the other team had to wait until you decided to throw a few back.

but really, you spent your time apologising to yuji. you had attempted to do so before, but the other team rudely interrupted you by trying to bombard you with multiple balls. now that all of them were on your court, they wouldn't be able to attack you.

"listen yuji," you said, for (probably about) the fifth time, "i am so sorry for using you as a human shield and then saying that it's every man for themselves —"

when you thought that you would not get distracted by the other team, you had forgotten that the biggest distraction of all could enter both courts: coach yaga.

"OI, PICK UP THE BALL, AND THROW IT —"

"— wait, i'm not done yet!" you snapped, throwing the coach a dirty look before softening your expression to address a bored yuji once again. "where was i? oh yeah! i didn't mean to use you as a human shield, i just don't like to be hit by things. so i'm sorry i got you out, okay? and —"

"— YOUR TIME IS RUNNING OUT  —"

"— and!" you continued over the loud voice that belonged to the bear that just so happened to be your coach, "— i regret it so much. i'm sorry, yuji."

"what about me?" said megumi.

you looked at him, eyes narrowed and head tilted.

"only friends get apologies," you told him, gaze darting down to his bare wrist before meeting his dark eyes once more. "and it's not even my fault you got out — i didn't tell you to stare at me, did i? anyways, i'm sorry, yuji."

"IF YOU WERE REALLY SORRY, YOU'D CATCH A BALL AND GET THAT PINK KID BACK IN THE GAME!"

yuji, who had been silently listening to your honest and true apology, had turned his head to look at the coach with a confused and hurt expression. he looked like a kicked puppy.

"pink ki—" he barely finished his sentence before the pout invaded the previous frown he'd been sporting.

"well i can't catch a ball if they're not throwing any, can i?" you said matter-of-factly.

"ALL THE BALLS ARE ON YOUR COURT, THROW THEM THEN!"

nearly every member of your team nodded and agreed. you thought they were a bunch of sheep but said nothing about it. you rolled your eyes and picked up the balls, walking towards the line that separated the two courts and then simply dropped the balls there.

"what the hell are you — WHY ARE YOU GIVING IT TO THEM?"

you turned, one ball under your pit and the other on your free palm.

"i thought you said you wanted me to give it to them and then catch it!"

"NO, YOU CONFUSED CHILD — I SAID TO THROW THEM!"

you dropped all the balls remaining in your hold and then sighed. "this is too hard — OH MY GOD!"

you'd barely been given the time to adjust to the new rules of the game (that you'd never once heard of) before the players on the other team were throwing the balls you had given them at you.

you scowled after you ducked at a ball aiming for your head.

"hey, i gave those to you!"

"yeah, that's the point," a boy with shoulder length hair responded.

you got used to the constant attacks eventually, so much so that you ended up skipping around your end of the field, immune to the constant background distractions and noise (your classmates and coach yaga shouting, nobara was the only one that seemed careless as to whatever the hell you chose to do with your free will) that it almost felt like a dream. it felt liberating to have an entire field to yourself. the rest of the game had gone really well for you: you spent your time cart-wheeling away from the balls thrown, and if you were feeling particularly cheeky in that minute, you'd also do a front aerial.

but where the game had been going splendidly for you, it had been going very poorly for your poor teammates:

"sir can i just replace her?" megumi volunteered, deadpanned and serious.

coach yaga let out a long sigh, though it sounded like it could also be a growl. "no, kid. that's cheating."

megumi looked up at the tall, buff man and glowered at him. "do rules even apply now? look at her —"

you were now trying to convince the blonde girl on the other team to let you teach her how to do the splits.

coach yaga pinched the bridge of his nose hard enough to scar his own aged skin. he blew the whistle after he spent a few minutes contemplating: he finished the game early, and since it was the final class of the day, you all got to go home early.

the class half hated and half loved you for it.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

you had to give it to yuji's gramps, the interior design of his house was wonderful. despite being completely deaf, it seemed that the man's lost sense had contributed to his heightened sight, for you could not find a single thing to critique when you'd stepped inside for the first time. it wasn't massive or big like a typical rich person's mansion, it was decent sized and homey, a cosy place that made your insides feel fuzzy and warm like the vibe you got after drinking hot chocolate in front of your fireplace with megumi and the rest of the family growing up.

you, yuji, megumi and nobara hung around at yuji's often. it was easier to get away with things because of the sole fact that his grandfather simply could not hear and made no effort in trying to either.

on one special occasion, the four of you had cycled over to yuji's place straight after school — though megumi and yuji had to take quick showers as they'd been left sweaty and sticky after participating in p.e. you and nobara never did much during those lessons, so the two of you had been completely fine.

"i told you," said yuji, marching over to where you'd been standing by the kitchen to replace the dead flowers in the beige glass, "grandpa hates roses."

"how would you know?" you said, admiring the fresh roses you'd brought over as nobara and megumi threw your backpacks in the designated corner of the living room. "has he ever communicated that to you?"

yuji raised a brow at you. "he's deaf, not mute."

before you could snap back at your pink-haired friend, who had also shot up in height over your time in the sixth grade, megumi had cut through your conversation with a sharp insult.

"you guys sound like idiots," he commented idly. "and yuji's right: he hates roses."

"roses are pretty, what reason does he have to hate them?" said nobara, easily coming to your defence.

over the following months, nobara had warmed up to both boys — yuji and megumi — even if she claimed that she still disliked them very much. her cold exterior towards them had been hard to break, as yuji would constantly mention at any chance he got, but you were glad it did: you couldn't argue with the idiot boys all on your own.

"porcupine, stop siding with the dumb pink kid," you said. stepping away from the roses and making your way down the narrow hall to yuji's bedroom.

"jokes on you, i'm okay with that name now!" he called out from somewhere behind you.

you could hear megumi complaining straight after. "shut up, why are you so loud?"

"you're such a grandpa, megumi," said nobara.

you hummed in agreement, reaching yuji's tall black door at the end of the narrow, dark hallway, twisting the knob and then inviting yourself in. somehow, megumi had overtaken yuji in the walk to his bedroom. you could see the outline of his scruffy hair from his shadow plastered over the wall. once you strutted in, you made an attempt to slam the door in megumi's face, forcing it shut behind you.

he grunted, kicking the door open and then following in straight after you. you had assumed that that would be the end of it, but proven wrong when you felt the heel of megumi's shoe dig into the dip of your knees from behind.

you stacked as a result.

it was embarrassing, but you stood back up just as quickly as you had stacked, spinning around to glare at your stoic friend who simply shrugged and walked off, his hands in the pockets of his pants looking as uncaring as ever.

yuji's bedroom was rather spacious. his walls were a dark shade of blue with a large-screen television attached to the left. he had a single massive window presenting the back garden (which was also not nearly as big as yours or megumi's, though you thought uncle ogi would like the look of it). his bed was rather unique and not out of the ordinary — for someone as spontaneous as yuji, that is.

because he just couldn't have a normal bed like everyone else, yuji had a ceiling bed, something that megumi and nobara had felt was excessive. you did too, for sure (which explained why you spent most of your time up there the first few times you'd come over to his place).

beneath his ceiling bed was his gaming console and a bunch of other cool technological things you played around with from time to time.

the couch at the centre of the room was where the four of you would lounge whenever you'd watch a movie together. it was also routine for you and yuji to argue over the single bean bag that sat just in front of the couch on the floor.

"let's watch a horror movie!" yuji announced as you and nobara flopped onto the couch with all of your limbs spread out.

megumi scowled at the two of you, harshly grabbing nobara's leg and pulling so he could make space. she yelled at him in response, using your hands (which you willingly offered) to pull herself back up and use it as a grip so she could effectively kick at him with her free leg without the risk of falling.

megumi did not like that at all.

"that's cheating."

"i wasn't aware that there were any rules —" she made an attempt to kick him again, "— to this."

"there are when you have the mermaid helping you —"

you threw the spider-man pillow you'd been leaning on at his face and glared at him even when you successfully hit your target.

"yeah, so when you don't look like a porcupine anymore, you stupid sea urchin —" you started, but were rudely interrupted by the enthusiastic voice that was yuji.

throughout all the arguing and chaos, he had been switching through different types of horror movies to watch. you hadn't noticed with the raging hot anger you felt towards megumi.

"insidious chapter three," he read out, comfortably slacking against the squishy bean bag. "yeah, let's watch that!"

nobara, now forcefully pushed to the side as megumi took the odd and foolish initiative to sit on you in order to make you move, loudly verbalised her agreement.

"heard it's super scary though," she said. "let's do it!"

"i —" you began, finding it difficult to speak with megumi's back pressed against your face. you shuffled and pushed at his stubborn body. "i a-agree!"

megumi pushed his weight further into you. you coughed dramatically.

"megumi-you-stupid-cow-i-can't-breathe!"

"good."

"what —" you gasped, harshly breathing in as much air as possible, "what did you eat today — an elephant?"

he only pushed down harder at that.

yuji joyfully clicked on the movie, quickly scrolling down the description and the short list of actors that would be present. you spent the time forcing megumi off of you, only successful after more than twenty tries (you were oddly certain about it) and then claimed your seat by the arm of the long couch. corner seats were your absolute favourite; there was no particular reason why, just that it felt a lot more comfortable than being sandwiched in between two warm bodies — megumi was also very stiff, you and nobara collectively agreed, so if you were to be stuck in between two people, you wished megumi wouldn't be one out of two of them.

with the space you'd been selfishly raiding now free, curtesy of your movement to the very right of the couch, nobara easily slid next to you, linking your arms and shifting in her seat so she could get more comfortable to the new adjustment. megumi, however, stood before the two of you, glancing at the only other corner seat that had been meant for him.

"move," he told nobara, demanding and with the manners of a seagull.

her nose scrunched up with disgust at his tone. "what? no."

"i don't wanna sit in the corner," megumi complained while you played with yuji's hair: his seat on his beanbag was right against your knees.

"yeah well tough," said nobara, lifting your interlinked arms just enough so megumi could see them. "y/n's my friend."

his brows furrowed as if that had been the dumbest thing he'd ever heard, though you knew all too well that couldn't be true, not when megumi had strongly proven his disagreement with hilary smith from the fifth grade when she claimed that the government had everyone put in schools to become robots in the future. that was a core memory you wouldn't forget.

"she was my friend first," he countered, looking as though nobara's point had been extremely pointless.

you laughed, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear and attempting to look humble.

"guys, guys," you intervened smoothly, "there's enough of me to go around for everyone —"

"yeah guys," yuji added ungraciously, "there's enough of me to go around —"

"nobody's arguing over you," megumi snapped, silencing him momentarily. he opened his mouth to, no doubt, berate him further when you had cut across him, gazing down at yuji with a scowl.

"what are you yapping about?" you asked your pink-haired friend, relishing in the hiss he'd let out when you pulled at his hair, a look of confusion and disbelief on your face. "just do what you do best and find us a movie. you're embarrassing me."

megumi seemed to have given up on the topic entirely, sitting in the only free space and frowning as he did so.

"i did!" yuji argued back, slapping your hand away from his hair and rubbing his scalp with a frown you could not see.

"no you didn't," said megumi, eyeing the tv screen critically. "why are we watching insidious chapter three before we've even watched chapters one and two?"

"because we can, porcupine, stop complaining," you answered swiftly.

"it's dumb," he said impatiently.

nobara sighed irritably. "yuji, just ignore him and put it on."

"already on it!"

but megumi hadn't quite finished his speech:

"that's like watching the fifth harry potter movie without the first," he said, afraid that if he rolled his eyes once more at your stupidity, they'd be stuck to the back of his head for good. "who does that?"

"um — like — everyone?" you replied, encouraging nobara to hit megumi for you. it was difficult to reach him when the two of you were on two different ends of the couch.

he stared at you, dumbfounded with your stubborn response. "what planet are you living on?"

you grinned. "actually, megumi, the only live-able planet that humans can live on is earth so it's not real if i said mars or something," you told him matter-of-factly, and then looked at both nobara and yuji for certainty, your voice low. "...right, guys? i'm right aren't i?"

both of them nodded:

"yeah i think so..."

"yeah..."

"live-able's not a word."

the three of you stared at him wordlessly.

"that's what you got out of that?" you said, voicing all three of your thoughts and cutting through the tense silence.

megumi ignored you, looking back at the tv screen with disdain.

"you guys are stupid, we won't understand anything happening if we skip the first two movies."

"we'll be fine," said yuji, standing up and stretching as he walked over to his mini-fridge beside his console. he looked over his shoulder as he called out to the three of you. "sprite or dr pepper?"

"sprite!"

"dr pepper!"

"water."

...

"you're so boring, porcupine!"

"yeah, who chugs a water during a horror movie?"

"i mean i have a bottle here but i didn't think anyone would actually want it —"

"shut up. all of you. yeah you too, mermaid."

you barely took the time to actually acknowledge what he was saying, barely took the time to realise that he had called you a mermaid, but it didn't matter anyway. whatever his response would be, polite or not, there was no other response you'd give than one that would insult your grumpy friend.

"i'm half convinced that you're really yuji's gramps."

yuji had come around and handed you your requested drinks with a laugh. he flopped down on his beanbag and lifted the remote with his spare hand to click on the triangle to finally play the movie.

"why am i friends with you guys?" megumi sighed, a tick in his jaw as he glared at the tv screen.

"don't be rude," said nobara, and the hiss that megumi had let out during her loud exclamation told you that she must have pinched him too.

"no nobara, this is development!" you clapped excitedly, the intro of the movie playing before the four of you. "it took him years to admit we were friends!"

megumi extended his arm over the back of the couch to tug at your hair. "i never said —"

"— he said it by accident too."

"i don't like this conversation."

nobara nudged your side and used her foot to do the same to yuji.

"he doesn't like the movie, he doesn't like the conversation. what do you like, huh?"

yuji, who had been blissfully unaware of the verbal battle going on behind him, looked over his shoulder and grinned at you. even in the dim lighting, and the flashes of light in curtesy of the film playing before you all, you could see the mischief underlining his toothy grin.

the both of you answered nobara's question at the same time:

"hana."

three out of four of you burst out laughing, struggling to breathe as megumi rested his chin on his left palm and glared intensely at the poor football plushie on the floor of yuji's room. he angrily shoved off nobara's fingers that had curled around his bicep, grumbling to himself as he did so.

"his fated one," you continued, chortling as yuji threw his head back against your knees.

hana was a girl that the four of you had met during your first few social studies classes at the beginning of the academic year. she had been lurking around the four of you for a little while, it seemed odd how she'd also sit on the table in the cafeteria right besides yours and simply stare. she clearly did not seem to mind that she had been caught (except the first three times it happened, and then after that, she'd had no shame).

after a lengthy discussion, one of which came to all sorts of theories, the most meaningful one being that hana was an undercover serial killer out for you all because of the fact that you had literally accused her of it when you'd had enough of being jump-scared by her mere existence, you found out that she was not a serial killer, she did not want to kill you, and she liked megumi fushiguro romantically.

it took a while for it to sink in:

she liked megumi fushiguro.

romantically.

and she was not shy about it at all, announcing that megumi was her 'fated' one in front of the entire class, being the first to offer herself up as a partner to him in paired work, and so much more. your favourite was when she'd introduced herself as 'hana fushiguro'.

but while megumi had disliked this very much, the rest of your little friendship circle revelled in it, wringing it out like orange in juicer.

there had been one golden opportunity that you used to push megumi and hana together. the task had been to create a poster of knowledge about the certain subtopic the class had been studying for the semester. in pairs.

yuji demanded that you be partnered up with him and you nearly obliged, but when you caught sight of a blonde haired, ditzy girl making her way towards an oblivious megumi, you stopped short of yourself and pushed yuji away from you.

"get away from me, pinkie pie," you said, ignoring yuji's 'rude!', waiting and watching as megumi strode towards you with a fierce look in his eyes. you couldn't help but laugh at his cheeks as they slowly turned pink with embarrassment.

you shook your head at him, silently communicating that you would not be his partner even if it meant that you got paired up with malakai, the class emo who always claimed that the 'darkness was consuming' him (and also visibly glitches when he does not get called by his short name - kai).

"y/n," said megumi, and you even dared to believe that he was almost at the point of begging. however, after being friends with the poor boy, you were well aware of his pesky stubborn nature.

still, that had not stopped you from being hopeful.

"maybe if you got on your knees and begged," you started cheekily.

megumi gawked at you, in megumi-fashion, brows furrowed and jaw clenched.

"you sadist."

"actually, i'm a masochist."

"..."

"..."

"that's not what it means —"

"anyways, my partner's nobara so..." you told him honestly, and the dark-haired girl had supported you as you leaned against her table she'd been seated at. "don't leave hana waiting."

megumi sighed irritably, then turned around to lock eyes with yuji, but the traitor had spun away with a too-loud laugh and babbled about how the darkness was actually very amusing as he seated himself next to malakai. megumi's eye twitched. nobody ever partnered up with malakai. it said a lot about how determined his foolish friends were.

and as if his day could not have gotten worse, miss haqq, the teacher, had finally spoken.

"megumi, why are we not partnered up, huh?" she asked, though not unkindly. "who's your partner?"

"y/n's my partner —"

you slammed your hand on the table you'd been leaning on, nobara barely flinched, and then stood up properly.

"lies!" you stated, angrily staring at your unsurprised teacher.

she let out a small breath. "y/n we're not in theatre class right now. and megumi?"

megumi shrugged, glancing at you. you bristled.

"miss he's lying," you said honestly, facing him again to stare at him critically. "who taught you to do that?"

"you," said megumi, as though it were a question even a year old baby could answer.

you stared at him, his answer recycling itself in your mind over and over again, making you become well aware of the comical silence the classroom had been left in.

"well..." you began, unsure of where you were planning on going with this, "you just... admitted... to lying... so..."

"right, megumi, find someone who's freeeee," miss haqq interrupted swiftly, extending the final letter of her sentence in an almost sing-song voice as her eyes darted left and right around the classroom before they stopped short of someone behind him. megumi wanted to die. "ah, hana's not got a partner. there you go, i knew my counting wasn't wrong."

but it hadn't ended there. megumi had, with extremely low spirits, seated himself next to the blonde girl and tried his hardest on discussing merely work-related things, all while praying that her insistent staring and odd statements would cease to exist sooner rather than later. but the universe didn't seem to be on his side. not when she first confessed to him, and certainly not now.

"y'know," hana began, in that low voice of hers she always used when talking to him specifically, "you have really nice eyes."

megumi continued to write on their large a4 sheet. "thanks," he'd said, uncomfortable. "my dad gave them."

you and nobara had been sitting in front of him, respectively working on your own poster when you overheard the awkward conversation taking place behind you. after exchanging a look of amusement with nobara, you turned in your seat to speak to hana seriously.

"i usually fight the toji... he's your father-in-law by the way."

you turned back around before megumi could spew out any nonsense about you. nobara had been gripping onto your lower arm the entire time, trying not to giggle.

you hadn't seen it, but hana beamed at the distraught boy sitting next to her, eyes radiant and bright.

"i know your dad's name now," said hana thoughtfully, and you couldn't help but think that toji would not be happy about that, but she didn't have to know that, did she? she continued to speak as though she was sitting on cloud nine itself. "it's good, i'll be more familiar with him. this must be a sign, your own friend knows... we're fated to be together."

you pinched nobara's thigh, though not had enough to bruise or hurt her. she took your signal with a small nod and leaned over the head of her chair to address the dazed girl behind her. megumi continued to glare.

"y'know it's funny," said nobara, a weird tone to her voice that megumi did not like very much, "'cause just the other day, megumi told me that fate brought you guys together."

hurriedly, nobara returned back to your a4 sheet and began working as though she hadn't just crafted megumi's doom. the two of you quietly laughed together, though it wasn't very discreet. megumi's head ached with every simultaneous shake of your shoulders.

hana was very pleased at nobara's comment, perhaps even more pleased than what you had told her prior to that. she glanced at megumi expectantly. he sighed, his grip on his pencil tightening, showcasing his blue veins.

"look —" he began, but hana had moved her chair closer to his, the loud screech of the legs of her chair against the floor momentarily leaving him deaf.

"i mean... i said the same thing before, but i never said it to you, so you couldn't have known —"

"actually you said it very loudly," interrupted megumi, trying not to sound unkind, though it wasn't very easy when everyone around him told him that he was naturally rude. "and also i never said that."

hana did not break eye contact with him as she sighed, her cheek resting against her palm lazily. megumi felt something weird simmer in his stomach. was that guilt?

it couldn't be: he had kindly rejected hana's advances countless times. it was starting to irk him now. he was only twelve, what did he know about crushes and romance? and it certainly didn't help that the three idiots that were his friends always pushed the notion that he also felt something for hana. he could not express the thought enough: he did not like hana.

"i'm sorry," he said, when it became clear that she would simply sit in silence and watch him carefully. "i don't feel the same way."

but hana merely hummed in what seemed like content. megumi was used to it. she had this thing where any rejection to her advances would go in through one ear and out through the other. so why did he still feel the slightest bit of guilt circling around his tummy?

"well," she began slowly, palm raised up as she gestured over to the two girls sitting in front of her (you and nobara), "that's two out of three of your friends that think we're good together. i just need one more for confirmation —"

"yeah i wouldn't count on it," megumi interrupted swiftly, his eyes slowly travelling over to the darkest corner of the room where yuji had been forced to sit in in order to accommodate malakai's needs. the emo didn't like sitting in the light, apparently.

but he instantly regretted his choice of movement, for yuji had caught his eye, and megumi did not like the way it gleamed with mischief. he regrettably watched as yuji stood up, addressing malakai before doing whatever the hell he planned on doing, no doubt something to do with megumi and hana.

"all right mal— i mean kai," stammered yuji, wary of uttering his full name by accident. the whole point of his speech was to make the emo feel at ease with yuji's disappearance, not to draw more attention to it. "i got something to do, so i'll be back, all right?" he explained with a grin. "the darkness around here isn't really vibing with me anyway —"

"no."

yuji's wrist had been caught by a hand colder than his mini-fridge when he'd attempted to leave. he flinched, looking down at malakai who was gripping onto him for dear life, snarling. if discomfort was an image, it'd be this very sight for yuji.

"you must not leave," said malakai, creating the very scene yuji had been desperate to avoid.

"dude, let go of me," he started, pulling at his arm to free himself of malakai's grip, but it was iron tight, cold, and incredibly strong. "dude —"

"yuji itadori," stated malakai, and yuji felt an icy shiver run down his spine. no one had ever uttered his name with such spleen. it scared him.

but before yuji could do anything else, malakai had bared his teeth at him and hissed. yuji stumbled back, visibly and audibly frightened, making a harsher attempt at getting away from his partner, an attempt that included knocking the entire table down and pushing his chair back to run.

everyone's heads had turned to the back of the classroom.

yuji scowled as malakai made an attempt to hide under the fallen table. the emo did not like attention. how ironic when he behaved like that.

"well now there's no point in moving," the pink-haired boy sighed, grimacing at the emo's weird actions. "i can just say it from here: hey hana!"

she perked up. megumi did not miss the wink she sent him. now looking at malakai's need to isolate himself from everyone, megumi thought a deep part of him understood it. not that he'd ever communicate that to anyone, and certainly not you.

"megumi told me in the locker rooms that your — er — your light basically — er — con— contradicts! — yeah that's the word — his darkness!"

"you mean 'contrasts'," said megumi, scowling.

as all eyes turned to him, particularly the pressing ones belonging to hana, megumi recoiled, ignoring your praise to yuji at catching him out.

"i never said that by the way," he quickly assured hana, but she seemed to be in her own world.

"really?" you added cheekily, "because you knew exactly what yuji meant."

"shut up, mermaid."

"now that's out of line!" you snapped, standing up and pointing a particularly sharp pencil at megumi.

"stop, y/n," said nobara, momentarily snapping you out of your thoughts as you averted your gaze over to her and slowly dropped your arm back to your side. she was right. perhaps a physical argument wasn't exactly wise. but nobara wasn't finished; she held up her scissors. "use this instead!"

you threw the pencil over your shoulder, uncaring of where it landed and joyfully took the sharp pair of scissors nobara had offered you.

megumi shook his head, snapping himself out of his own thoughts and angrily pointing at the movie playing in front of you all, his other hand fiddling with his water bottle just to have something to do with it, feeling hot and bothered.

"can we watch the movie?" he voiced, visibly annoyed.

the three of you decided that your joint discussion about megumi and hana would be put to an end seeing as you made your poor friend go through enough torment for a day. but while megumi assumed that distracting everyone from the topic at hand would be beneficial for himself, to give himself some peace and quiet and free of any and all annoyances, he found that this simply amplified the chatter out of you.

megumi had been correct, which wasn't a surprise at all.

watching the third movie before watching the first two created a lot of confusion, that of which couldn't have been kept inside you. annoyingly enough, you just had to voice it encouraging yuji and nobara to engage with you too:

"hey, who's that guy?" you thought aloud.

"that's her dad, i think," answered nobara thoughtfully. "i think his name is alex."

"no, alex is her brother," said yuji, pointing at the screen. "her dad's name is quinn."

"no it's not!"

"yes it is! isn't it, y/n?"

"no, the dad's name is elise," you said, matter-of-factly.

megumi inwardly groaned. "elise is a girl name. that's not her dad."

"okay, so explain why your name is megumi then?" you shot back at him, accusatory.

he grumbled something under his breath. you took that as a win. but it didn't end there.

not only were the characters confusing to the three of you, the story was too:

"what the hell is the man who can't breathe?" you voiced, curious and also simultaneously angry. "why won't they tell us what happened to him? how the hell are we supposed to know?"

"right?" agreed yuji loudly. "and why's he wearing an oxygen mask?"

"clearly he doesn't know style," tutted nobara, before leaning further more into your side. "why is the demon after them specifically?"

"yeah, what the hell is that about?"

"i have no idea what's going on here."

you perked up brightly. "actually, i do."

yuji turned around and beamed, though you could see the slightly frightened look in his eyes.

"you do?" he asked, hopeful.

you nodded and went off on a tangent explaining the story:

"yeah, so, basically that girl that was on the screen like a few seconds ago — i forgot her name —"

"oh you mean elise?" said nobara.

"no, not her —"

"quinn?" said yuji.

you clicked your fingers at him and nodded. "yeah! yeah, her — so she's looking to find out why the demon killed her in another life, but like, the guy — her dad, right — he's trying to stop her because he knows it'll break her. and you know dave?"

you waited expectantly. yuji and nobara shrugged.

"i don't remember a dave," your pink-haired friend commented, scratching his head while he spoke.

nobara voiced her agreement:

"yeah, i must've missed him."

"well anyways! dave is secretly the demon, so..."

yuji stared at you before looking away and nodding slowly as if he were piecing the entire plot in his head together. nobara pulled out her phone, unlocking it and muttering.

"i think we should fact-check it —"

"no don't fact-check it," you said quickly.

"idiots," grumbled megumi.

the movie progressed, just as your confusion did too.

"why did that guy beg for elise's help again?" said yuji, but only after chugging a large amount of his dr pepper, burping ungracefully after.

"ew, have some shame," snapped nobara, kicking yuji's side and relishing in the yelp he let out. "but yeah, why did that guy beg for elise's help again?"

you shrugged. "i don't know guys, let's ask megumi."

"yeah that's a good idea —"

"oh yeah, megumi —"

"don't ask megumi."

the three of you stared at him. megumi frowned.

"i don't know who said that."

"cut the crap, porcupine," you said, rolling your eyes. he looked away, guilty. "we all know it was the red-faced demon —"

he stared at you once again, deadpanned. "sure."

you ignored him. "anyways, why's the demon after their family, megumi?"

before megumi could answer, yuji cut in:

"it's getting a little scary, y'know... hey megumi, how did elise become a ghost?"

"i —"

nobara poked megumi's side. "hey, did elise kill josh or something? i don't get it."

"that's not —"

"porcupine why's quinn trying to contact her mom? why can't she just call her instead of doing rituals? ... porcupine? porcupine!"

megumi had left the couch to stand by the door, his phone pressed to his ear and his back to the movie.

"mom, can you pick me up?"

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2015-2016 seventh grade

megumi had been off. distant. unavailable, in a way.

it didn't seem like an issue to everyone else, but you could see it in the way he zoned out off conversations, found interest in next-to-nothing, and not even malakai's advances to nobara made him flinch. to an outsider, it would've seemed like megumi on a bad day (when he was acting grumpier than usual). to you, it seemed like something different and foreign was on his mind.

you didn't press him for information, not when he'd given you a short goodbye just before home-time, acting as though the two of you couldn't have walked together like normal seeing as you lived opposite one another, and not even when he'd seemed extra quiet during the last friday night dinner at satoru's.

he was always a quiet kid, sure, but something was missing, and though you couldn't quite put a finger on it, you knew you weren't overreacting.

in fact, even yuji and nobara agreed with you. apparently, during the training for the school's next football game, megumi had been completely out of it that he had to be benched for the rest of the game — according to yuji.

at the moment, the two of you were sitting together for homeroom. the day had just about started, and though you had been forced to sit at the very front, right across the teacher's desk (apparently you couldn't be trusted to sit elsewhere) you disobediently sat right next to megumi at the back of the classroom, ignoring his look of confusion, the most emotion he'd shown within the past week.

"what're you doing?"

"shut up, porcupine," you hissed, slumping in your seat so you wouldn't get caught. "you'll draw attention!"

"you'll get in trouble," he said blankly.

you grinned lazily. "that's what you said about... eight or nine years ago when i sat next to you in kindergarten, remember?"

megumi seemed almost dazed, as though he were in a dream. he'd been displaying odd emotions for the last week, but you'd never seen him so pliable like now, eyes focused yet unfocused, drawn to you and only you as if everybody else didn't exist. was it something you said? was it something you'd done?

you didn't know how to go about it, so you merely laughed, just as megumi answered your question.

"yeah," he said, frowning slightly.

"and then you weren't just wrong," you continued carelessly. "you were so, so wrong, that we even ended up becoming best friends! you didn't see that coming, did you?"

megumi stared at you. you were too busy wondering why nobara had allowed malakai into the seat next to her, though perhaps she hadn't actually allowed him. it explained why she was voicing to him an array of all types of colourful threats.

you glanced back at megumi, noticing his dark pupils following every movement of yours. you laughed.

"megumi stop staring at me," you chortled, covering your face and finding it difficult to speak and laugh at the same time. your stomach hurt as a result. "stop why do you look possessed! ... okay megumi it's not funny anymore, you're scaring me."

you frowned when he rolled his eyes at you. at least some part of him was still alive. you had an idea to bring back every part of him, even more so when his gaze landed on you once more, his poker-face falling slowly. he almost looked upset.

"so i came to a revelation yesterday," you told him, smiling. "i think the earth's flat."

you glanced at him from the corner of your eye, expecting a major reaction, expecting a number of colourful insults, expecting him, megumi.

all you got was the silence that had been radiating off of him for the entire week. at least you knew for sure that you weren't imagining things: your friend was dealing with something so big, it distracted him from your outrageous declaration.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the walk home wasn't exactly pleasant either. you did most of the talking, which wasn't completely out of the ordinary, but before all of this unknown drama circulating with megumi, he had the decency to give his input here and there. now, however, it was simply as though you were talking to a brick wall, barely any response to your comments. if you were lucky enough, you'd receive a small grunt or a nod of acknowledgement. but it was fruitless, essentially.

it was almost boring.

you were never bored with megumi. ever.

you had no idea what had him so occupied, but your attempts at conversation had become so dry, you opted to remain silent the rest of the way, adjusting the strap of your bag on your shoulder as you gazed at the houses you passed by, internally questioning and critiquing the exterior design, knowing that mentioning it aloud to megumi would be less exciting than in your head.

the two of you had made it past the traffic lights by this point, now entering the calm scenery that was your neighbourhood. the roads were empty, only occasionally did a few cars make their way through. the sun had only just started to set, still high in the sky, but vibrant enough to blind you with its soft, orange glow. as the two of you reached the end of the road and turned left to where your houses would be after another few minutes of walking, you spotted one of the houses that had been newly sold to a family of four. it seemed that their moving in process was still ongoing, for the van that carried all their boxes was still parked in front of the house.

you had half a mind to go over and introduce yourselves, find some excitement in forcing megumi to do some socialising with you and relishing in the little scowl he'd sport that nobody but you would be able to notice, but megumi had turned and walked the opposite way before you could say anything.

"let's go this way," was all he'd said, knowing you'd follow him questioningly.

and follow him questioningly you did, turning around and demanding answers for why he insisted on taking the long way home instead of the time-efficient way. it was unlike him. but you'd noticed, within this entire week, megumi hadn't really been himself, had he?

the very last thing you wanted to do was pressure him into telling you what parasite he had become victim to. yet, you had no idea how to approach such a serious topic. the two of you had never tested such waters before. everything you'd been through together had been comical, humorous, never once drowning in the sea of weighty situations.

you just weren't made for it (even if megumi looked the part).

"at least carry me if you're gonna make me walk the long way home," you complained loudly.

megumi didn't respond. you watched him with furrowed brows before giving up the amusing act altogether and sighed loudly.

"what's going on?" you asked him, extending an arm to grab at his and half his movements.

the streets were void of any pressing ears. he had no excuse hiding whatever it was for longer.

megumi didn't shrug you off like you expected him to. instead, he stared at you, jaw clenched and brows furrowed.

"you're being weird," you added, when it became quite clear that he wouldn't respond. your hand fell limp at your side again. "i don't like it."

to your surprise, instead of walking off without a second thought, he shrugged. "don't know what you're talking about."

"don't play dumb with me," you said firmly. "yuji told me you got benched."

megumi's brow twitched. he didn't look too pleased about you knowing, it seemed. you felt like you were walking on eggshells. you hated it.

"fine," you said gently, though your expression remained fierce. "don't tell me. but i —"

you let out a small breath, finding difficulty in searching for the right words to use. you were angry at yourself, but also at the education system. schools should focus on training kids on how to approach situations like these, for you'd never felt so clueless in your life.

"i'm — i'm always here," you struggled to spit out, "if you want to talk."

megumi stared at you with an expression you couldn't quite place. of course, it was the usual monotonous look, the standard half-lidded eyes and small scowl, jaw tense which would have made an outsider assume he was angry. but you knew better. even with that odd mask, there was always something lingering behind it: that was his happy face as well as his sad, angry, confused, shocked face.

with that list came a new addition, the one displayed shamelessly before you, though you couldn't quite place what it was. though as much as you wanted to discover this nameless emotion, time was cruel, and megumi had already cut it short by choosing to walk the long way home.

you took a small step back.

"okay now laugh," you said hurriedly.

megumi recoiled. "huh?"

"laugh," you repeated, unrelenting. "this is so weird so i need you to laugh."

he raised a sharp brow at you. "look who you're talking to."

you slapped your hand against your forehead in shock. "you're right!" you exclaimed, as the two of you began the long trek back to your houses. "if you laugh, the earth would turn upside down!"

"that's not possible."

the walk home had been a lot more pleasant than the ones you'd experienced with him the last four days.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

the sky resembled a painting you'd seen a few years back when you took a trip to the art museum with uncle ogi and your mom: it was dark, very dark, but the sparkles dotted around each cloud illuminated the night sky, brightening it enough for you to examine it better than one who stared at a sky with no stars whatsoever. you'd heard that apparently in some countries, the pollution was so bad to the point where the stars weren't even the slightest bit visible; you couldn't imagine that. what was a sky with no stars? what was a day with no sun? what was a night with no moon?

what were you without megumi?

no, really, where the hell was he? he said he'd meet you up on his rooftop in a few, but you'd been idly watching the clouds move above your head for a good ten minutes. as beautiful as it was, it wasn't much of an experience without your grump of a friend himself.

content with watching the stars alone, megumi had finally decided to show himself, climbing up from the ladder attached to the roof of the house and pulling himself up through the ceiling window to meet you. he crawled his way over, explaining his absence.

"dad needed me to hide the broken vase from mom."

your brows knitted themselves together. "the china one?"

"yeah," he nodded, sitting next to you and hanging his elbows off of his bent knees. "i didn't help him."

"i didn't think you would," you admitted with a laugh. "wasn't it the fonthill dragon jar? the one sold for twelve milli—"

"— million dollars?" he finished off bitterly. "yeah, that's why i didn't help him."

you hummed, leaning towards him slightly to speak in hushed tones for fear of any eavesdroppers that might run off to megumi's mother and snitch.

"it wasn't a very pretty vase, though —"

"just say it's ugly —"

"— yeah it's ugly."

it was quiet then, quiet enough that if one paid close attention to the scene, the sounds of crickets may be heard. it wasn't a chilly night, hence the lack of thick sweaters on both you and megumi, but you didn't feel as warm as one would have expected. you'd been feeling this way for the past week. whatever megumi had been actively hiding from you had caused a small rift, one you weren't very fond of.

you watched him carefully out of your peripheral vision. he seemed less tense, less angry. his shoulders had drooped, as if a bunch of weights that had been accumulating on them had dropped significantly. megumi's jaw had remained tight the entire week, yet as you stared at the line leading up to his chin and mouth, you noticed how relaxed it seemed. in turn, your jaw loosened, the distance between you and him closing. perhaps whatever your friend was going through was now long forgotten, long over.

"i'm gonna tell mom about the vase," he said, breaking the tense silence as the two of you gazed up at the stars blinking down at you. the moon was full tonight.

"i expected nothing less," you replied, chuckling.

"and the earth isn't flat, dummy."

you could feel his eyes burning holes on your right cheek. you repressed the urge to burst out laughing.

at least you knew for certain, now, that megumi was okay. his consistent need to be right finally returning after its long hiatus, and though it had been extremely annoying over the last eight years, you found it rather endearing too (you'd take a bullet before admitting it to him). megumi wasn't megumi without his unshakeable personality.

"so you were listening to me after all," you stated, averting you gaze from the captivating the stars to the moon sitting next to you.

he blinked at you, bemused.

"i always listen."

and for the rest of that night, you couldn't shake off the feeling that whatever megumi had been hiding, it had something to do with you.

you were glad it was in the past now.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

2016-2017 eighth grade

mr andersen's homework had been left untouched on your desk for about two weeks (despite being given an extension because he was well aware just how bad at math you were). you were tired, exhausted, and drained: middle school was no joke. it was times like these — where some random dude decided that adding letters to the already-difficult math equations — that you felt like taking a knife and driving it clean through your heart.

you got up, a lightbulb hovering just above your head as you beamed, scrambling to take your phone out of charge and scrolling through your contact list.

— go-go-go-joe! (27 missed calls) — nobara <3 — yuji :) (1 missed call) — mother — porcupine 👺

there he was — porcupine — you clicked his number and pressed the phone to your ear, lying flat on your bed once again. it dialled for all of five seconds before you heard his grumpy voice on the other end of the line:

"what do you want?"

you sighed, putting on your theatre skills to show.

"megumi..." you groaned weakly, following that with a fake cough.

"..."

you coughed again. "megumi — ahem — i'm sick."

"sucks to be you."

you repressed the desire to start yelling at him, cursing him out due to his lack of empathy. it doesn't matter whether you were faking an illness or not — as a friend, megumi was supposed to offer help, advice, ask whether you were doing well or not. you remembered a time where his mom had to take him to therapy, concerned about his lack of feeling. it was a funny day, that was.

you tried again, coughing twice more this time.

"i think i have a — *cough* — a fever," you said, trying your best to sound as physically weak as possible. you got up, gently swiping your hair away from your face as you slowly made your way to the window. " *cough* — i can't do a-any homework today..."

"that so?" said megumi.

you nodded, almost forgetting that he couldn't see you. you draped one of your arms over your waist, the other hand still pressing your phone to your ear.

it had rained a little while ago, puddles forming by the sidewalk. the grass looked damp yet very shiny and silky beneath the weak light protruding from the sun, its very presence hiding behind the prominent clouds, thick as cotton candy.

"i just — i can't get out of bed right now — *cough* — megumi."

"yeah, must be difficult."

your lip curled. "yes! — i mean — *cough* — yes... i'm so glad you understand."

megumi responded almost immediately. such a good friend, you thought. you almost felt bad for deceiving him, but it just had to be done. perhaps if you had megumi's brains for math, none of this would be happening. so in a way, it was all his fault.

yeah, that made sense. he brought this upon himself.

"you probably can't stand up straight either," he said, and you almost let out a chuckle.

"mhm — it's so — *cough* — ugh, i hate this." you decided it was time to cage the dog. "i was thinking... erm... *cough, cough* ... maybe you could do my homework — *cough* — like last time? i'm really, really sick."

"yeah, sick to the point where you can't get out of bed —"

"yes, megumi! see — *cough* — see i knew you'd understand... you're such a great friend!"

absentmindedly, you fiddled with the fabric of your beige curtains.

"maybe you should look outside to help you feel better," he suggested.

you grinned, looking up without realising it.

"that's a good ide—"

you stopped short of yourself, met with the sight of megumi staring right through your soul from his own bedroom window. lo and behold, one of the disadvantages of living right across from your best friend.

you froze.

"you should probably use your mermaid powers and heal yourself —"

"that's not how it works!" you snapped, furious.

you stumbled, your hands immediately grabbing the curtains and circling yourself with it, hiding yourself from view. and before he could embarrass you any further (because he absolutely would, that was megumi fushiguro), you hung up, heart returning to its usual pace and eyes wide with shock.

you hurriedly unravelled yourself from the curtains and shut them closed, walking off in annoyance.

"creep," you muttered under your breath.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

fear choked you as you gasped for breath, your lungs constricting in on itself, the back of your knees burning with each stride. with every step, the voice in the back of your head encouraged you to continue, reminding you that you had to keep it up; you only countered back with the question of whether it was all worth it or not. it certainly hadn't seemed like it, with the hairs at the back of your neck sticking to your warm skin and your palms growing increasingly sweaty.

running had never been an issue for you. you quite liked it when you were a kid, enjoying such activities like playing tag or red-light-green-light or chasing megumi (that one was, perhaps, your most favourite of them all, despite megumi's disdain).

now, however, as you ran for your life, you hated every bit of it. you hated the way the air slapped at your face in your hasty strides, you hated the way the adrenaline ran beneath your skin with excitement you couldn't quite understand, and you hated the way you could barely breathe, as if a block of wood had been lodged into your throat. you couldn't remember the last time you felt this way. coach yaga had made you run laps before, but none of them were as painful as this.

and it was all satoru's fault, which no one had let him forget the entire marathon towards the airport.

"why on earth did you suggest taking a shortcut here if you were already on time?" demanded uncle ogi, the lines on his forehead becoming more and more prominent as everyone dragged their bags and belongings with them.

you'd finally entered the building after what felt like ten long and dawdling years. the summer heat had already made you feel faint and uncomfortable, and the marathon everyone had been collectively (forcefully) participating in had only made it a hundred times worse. the sticky feeling beneath your pits and arms felt like you'd just emerged from out of a pool of your own seat. your shirt stuck to your skin like glue.

megumi's dad spoke up angrily.

"he's an idiot, that's why."

you couldn't help but think that he barely looked fazed by the constant running. he only seemed to care about the lack of time everyone had to get to the airport on time.

but uncle ogi did not seem to find that a valid reason, abruptly turning to look at him with visible frustration.

"and why the hell did you fools follow him?"

maki, who was running silently in front of both you and megumi, had reached up and pulled at her father's ponytail. his head had practically snapped backwards to glare down at her.

surprised (and pleasantly amused), you stopped in your tracks, taking a moment to not only breathe, but use that breather to let out a loud laugh. megumi was not pleased by this at all; his hand that had been clasping yours for the entirety of the adventure had tightened harshly, pulling at you to snap you out of your reverie.

"stop," he said, looking dishevelled as the two of you fell straight back into your routine and sped past several strangers behind the rest of your family.

"i did," you responded cheekily, complying with each pull and tug of megumi's hand.

despite all the noise ringing in your ears, the chatter of the public the and cries of several babies, you could still hear maki's harsh voice cut through the air.

"stop fussing," she snapped. "you don't have to be here, y'know."

the lines on uncle ogi's forehead disappeared to accentuate the crease newly-formed between his brows as he glared down at her. oddly enough, you thought he seemed to be faring well with all the running, despite his old age.

"i'm the driver, smart ass!" he shot back, silencing maki as she rolled her eyes at him.

he wasn't lying: all of you had travelled in two separate cars to arrive at the airport. in your mom's car, your mom, satoru, toji, megumi's mom, tsumiki (toji's goddaughter), you and megumi had been in. in uncle ogi's car, uncle ogi, maki, mai, suguru, and mimiko and nanako (suguru's adopted daughters).

satoru had messed around with the gps in the passenger seat at some point, insisting that he knew a shortcut with such confidence, your mom had been too lazy to care about the way he'd toggled with it, brows furrowed with the tip of his tongue poking out of the side of his smooth lips. uncle ogi had been following your mom's car, so collectively, everyone ended up being late.

uncle ogi wasn't done there though, his gaze hardening even further before he added his final comment. "and what did i say about pulling my hair?"

maki turned to you and scowled when you kept the smile plastered over your face.

"you wait till we get home —"

"ogi stop threatening maki!" megumi's mom called out from ahead, her voice faint yet every bit demanding.

your legs had long since given up on their own. each movement they made only felt like someone had sent multiple bullets to drive themselves into you, tiring you out and evoking so much pain from you. you couldn't go on any longer, not with the feeling of your shirt practically suffocating you amongst the heat of the crowded airport. you ached to feel some cool air brush against your warm skin, however, the longer you continued to run, the less likely that would ever happen.

you raised your head slightly, chest heaving as you eyed the muscled back belonging to none other than toji himself. your left hand, feeling too warm in megumi's, had been released from its gentle shackles when megumi immediately stepped away from you, almost as if he practically sensed the exact thought you had in mind. you didn't complain, bending your knees (ignoring the momentary burning sensation it brought you) and jumping up, arms gripping onto toji's broad shoulders, ignoring his surprised grunting and struggling as you adjusted your hold on him.

"that's better," you sighed, grip iron-like as he shook himself in a failed attempt to throw you off. to someone watching from afar, they probably thought he looked like a dog.

"get off me, gremlin —"

"it wouldn't kill you to hold her for a bit," said megumi's mom, and that in itself was enough to silence toji. he begrudgingly jogged with you on his back, making no attempt to hold onto your legs as he dragged his — and his wife's — suitcases along.

your mom looked back, no longer running and now confused at the statement before seeing your face hidden in the tall man's shoulders. she sighed.

"y/n, get off of—" she began, before turning away and catching up to suguru, who was running beside his best friend whilst carrying nanako and mimiko, each girl under each arm. "ugh, i tried to care."

jumping onto toji's hard back was probably the best idea you came up with all day. looking down at everyone made you feel superior. the fact that you no longer needed to run along with everyone made you feel superior. the burning at the back of your knees had started to dim, and simultaneously, your heart beat had slowly started to return back down to its normal pace. however, now there was a slight strain in your arms, curtesy of toji being completely unhelpful in keeping you propped up on him, forcing you to hold onto him with all your might. though you'd still argue that this was far better than all that dreadful and tiring running.

you surveyed everything else around you, watching it all pass by in a blur: you could barely tell that the blue waiting seats were, indeed, blue waiting seats with how fast toji seemed to be sprinting. once at the back of the group, now you were nearly at the front, and through it all, megumi still seemed to be at your side, considerably shorter than you were used to.

you laughed, kicking his side with your foot.

"i'm taller than you now, porcupine!"

you couldn't tell whether he was scowling or not, but you'd bet your life that he was.

"normalcy has been restored," you sighed dreamily.

"hey, which gate?" asked megumi's mom, her hands bare and empty since her husband silently offered to carry her things. that was before this entire predicament. you imagined that he definitely regretted that now.

you couldn't see satoru's face, only met with the sight of the back of his head, but you heard him well nonetheless.

"terminal four," he'd answered, and even suguru stared at him in bewilderment.

"yeah, we know that," said toji, already frustrated as it was. "what gate?"

silence only followed after that. satoru's dark haired companion turned back once more with a scowl, gently lowering his two girls back to their feet despite their obvious discontent.

"for fu— he doesn't know what gate," he stated, annoyed. he then shoved the white-haired male. "give me back our tickets —"

"what?" satoru riposted, shocked and angry though he had no right to be. "why?"

suguru looked like he wanted to throttle him. "'cause you can't be trusted, idiot!"

everyone had stopped running by this point, meaning that there was no use for you to be held up by toji's useful back. he seemed to acknowledge this as the adults began to argue, shaking you off with more force than prior. you got the message, hopping down from your personal vehicle and stumbling into megumi's side. the boy held onto your arms to stop you from falling, and you pushed him away in thanks.

"the hell?" he questioned lowly.

you shrugged, observing the adults with a look of mild curiosity.

"does that mean you'll miss your flight?" you commented briefly.

"this is so embarrassing," mai added lowly, turning away from the unhinged people that were your family. "why did we even have to come along if we're not the ones leaving?"

"to say goodbye," you responded, as though it were the most obvious thing on the planet.

there were a lot of things you liked about mai, but equally, a lot of things you also disliked about her too. how entitled she acted, how rude she could sometimes be, how maki was just all around the better twin, though you never admitted this out loud. though your silence did speak volumes, even if you didn't know it.

"we'll see them again in a few weeks," she said airily. "how long are you staying there, megumi?"

he shrugged. you didn't think he was too fond her either. although, megumi didn't really like anyone, so that wasn't a fair argument. when this entire trip had been planned, the main issue he had was the fact that the only people that would be going that are his age are mimiko and nanako, and over the years, there was this unspoken competition between satoru's kids (you and megumi) and suguru's kids (mimiko and nanako). as amusing as it was to the adults, megumi took it quite seriously. he didn't think he could deal with them on his own.

you weren't accompanying him on this trip: it would be just him, satoru, his mom and dad, tsumiki, suguru, and mimiko and nanako.

he wouldn't communicate it to you, he wouldn't even text it to you, but he didn't think it'd be very enjoyable without you.

for one, he would have to deal with satoru's constant teasing all on his own (on the very rare occasion that you'd argue against satoru, you were quite helpful). he would be forced to interact with the twins on his own by his mother (usually his mom made the both of you do that, together). there were multiple other things he'd have to do alone on this trip. none of them would be as... dare he think... exciting as hanging out with you.

even throughout all of that, he was beyond grateful that he at least had tsumiki tagging along with him.

it still wouldn't be the same without you since you and tsumiki were not alike. though you were both kind hearted and held very highly in megumi's good graces, tsumiki was an entire grade older than the two of you and held this motherly nature around her despite it. she was, in better terms, like the sister he never had.

"maybe you won't be separated from us after all, porcupine," you said, gesturing to the adults that were still arguing (suguru had satoru in a headlock somehow, when did that happen?).

"yeah, you'll just miss your flight," added maki, nudging your side. that was probably her biggest way of showing affection. you'll take it.

you watched the scene unfold before you: toji and satoru were absolutely ripping each other apart with insults thrown back and forth. megumi's mom seemed to be the one trying to calm things down with the aid of suguru who usually never sided with toji on anything, but seemed to have no choice but to. all the while, uncle ogi was taking up his anger with your mom, who seemed to only care about leaving this place sooner rather than later.

"i'll sit on you," toji had threatened, fist raised at the blue-eyed male.

satoru stood up straight, head to head with him in response.

"yeah?" he challenged, smug. "so what, you're saying you're fat then? is that it?"

toji recoiled. if you squinted your eyes hard enough, you would probably spot the smoke flying out of his ears.

"what?" he demanded, voice carrying around the area.

"hey y/n!" satoru had randomly yelled, addressing you but his eyes refusing to leave toji's.

you froze, unsure of whether you liked where this was going. you had half a mind to step behind megumi and use his tall frame to conceal yourself. knowing your friend, you knew he'd probably be a traitor and step away from you instead.

"y/n! he said he's fat! did you hear that?"

you wanted to jump into a hole and just lay there as time went on and as the world moved on. nothing was more embarrassing to you than that horrific time where you truly believed that toji fushiguro was a 'fat man'. praying daily for everyone to forget that ever happened was deemed useless now that the issue arose again.

"i will sit on you, gojo," toji threatened again, eyes narrowed. "i will do it—"

"okay fatty!" sang satoru, speaking over toji's threats. "fatty, fatty, fatty, fatty—"

"— i'll sit on you —"

"— fatty, fatty, fatty —"

"satoru stop it, you're causing a scene!" megumi's mom ordered, voice harsh and authoritative.

he went as far as placing his hands over his ears to block everyone else out while he continued to sing the words 'fatty' repetitively. your mom stepped away from the scene, looking very much sheepish and uncomfortable.

toji glared at suguru, raising a pointer finger at him as satoru continued to sing. "you better tell him to stop it right now or i'll squash him like a bug!"

suguru's eyes widened, both shocked and angry. "the hell am i supposed to do about it?"

"oi!" interrupted uncle ogi, gripping satoru by the ear and twisting.

the singing had stopped, though the commotion hadn't.

"ow, ow, ow!" whined satoru, his head being pulled down to uncle ogi's height with each twist of his ear.

the whole ordeal had grabbed the attention of passersby, and several of them at that. a lot of the lines were empty due to the late arrival of the family, however, for the strangers that had stayed behind for whatever reasons, each of them seemed very invested in the drama unfolding before you.

maki and mai had both stepped forward to calm the arguing, though it only proved useless when it started intensifying at their involvement. you and megumi approached tsumiki, still glancing at the rest of your chaotic family with critical expressions.

"i'll miss you guys," you said thoughtfully, and you meant it even if you didn't mention it much. you would never say that to one person alone, tsumiki's mere presence brought you the comfort needed to express your thoughts with a little more freedom.

"we'll miss you too," tsumiki quickly added, briefly glancing at megumi. "won't we?"

"no."

tsumiki smiled nonetheless. "he's lying."

you smiled. "i know. megumi's the biggest liar ever —"

"look who's talking," he scoffed sourly.

you and tsumiki both ignored him as though he hadn't said anything insulting at all.

"i don't think you'll be missing this though," she continued, amusement clear in her soft voice as she regarded the loud argument.

with toji threatening to kill satoru, satoru came up with a very unique rebuttal:

"see this?" he said loudly, lifting up his phone, the latest model. he turned it over so the back of his phone was presented to the angry man. he jammed a pointer finger at the flawed apple. "i'll turn you into that, yeah? i'll turn you into an apple —"

"why you little —"

to make matter's worse, a security guard had stalked over, smaller in height yet bulky enough to make up for it.

"hey! what's going on here?"

"oh — no — they're family," said your mom, finally walking back to the group to ease tensions.

satoru turned away with a scoff.

"i'm not related to that pumbaa look-alike," he'd snapped, jamming his sunglasses further up his nose.

toji stood up straighter. "yeah i'm not too crazy about being related to skinny santa over there either."

satoru's jaw dropped, his hand enclosed around the bottom of his hoodie. he lifted it up despite the protests from around him.

"you wish you had these abs —"

uncle ogi slapped the back of his head. "put it back down you damn harlot —"

tsumiki laughed behind her hands, only forcing megumi to somewhat scold her for her amusement.

"it's not funny," he said, frowning. "they're being dumb."

"yeah you're right, megumi," she agreed, too quickly. you caught the knowing look she sent you once he turned his head to look back at the scene. "they're being very dumb."

tsumiki didn't wait for megumi to catch on to her teasing, walking off towards maki and mai to observe the argument from a closer distance. her low pony tail swung itself left and right as she walked, her hair shining under the different lighting.

it didn't take long before the argument had ceased to exist: suguru examined the tickets thoroughly (after quite the argument with satoru to get them off of him to begin with) and even approached a person of higher knowledge to help everyone with finding the correct gate and so on. it only meant one thing for you: the time for you and half of the family to part ways had caught up to you all.

you hadn't expected your goodbye to be so rushed when megumi's mother called the two of you over and nearly broke all the bones in your body after wrapping her arms around you. you didn't get much time to breathe before you found yourself squeezed against satoru's side in a one-armed hug.

"aw, don't cry, y/n —"

you looked up at him, raising a brow. "i'm literally not even —"

"it's fine, i'll be back in a few weeks!"

you shoved him away. "just get away from me."

suguru seemed to be the only normal person, hugging you briefly before rubbing the top of your head affectionately.

his daughters didn't get the same treatment you gave him. instead, you urged them to come closer and gave your request in hushed tones.

"take as many ugly pictures of megumi as you can."

before they could question you, everyone was called over to cross the gate for the flight.

that was it, then, you realised, as the twins hurried over to follow their dad. you wouldn't be with everyone for the next three to four weeks. everything was going too fast — megumi's parents had already crossed the gate, along with tsumiki who was closely followed by suguru and his kids. uncle ogi, your mom, maki and mai had all stepped back to watch them leave.

though they'd be back after the four weeks, it only just hit you like a whiplash how different your summer would be. you spent most of your time with megumi, and if not with him, then with the rest of this family, coming up with crazy adventures that even yuji and nobara would tag along with. the friday night dinners that was a weekly routine for everyone would be abolished temporarily, because they were always held at satoru's place and he'd be gone on this vacation.

tsumiki wouldn't be able to help you with your homework (or rather, do it herself) when megumi would refuse to over the phone. you wouldn't be able to gossip with megumi's mom as often either, nor bother megumi's dad in your free time with satoru.

you could hardly turn around to find megumi before you stumbled back at how close he'd randomly appeared behind you.

"don't miss me too much," you said, to cover up how he practically scared your soul out of your body a second ago.

"don't blow up my phone," he shot back, a small jab at how even the distance between your homes was too far for you, resulting in the spamming of his phone with memes and random texts.

your shoulders dropped with a sigh.

"i'm going to miss you," you said at last, and if it wasn't going to be him, you'd break the ice yourself and cut to the chase.

megumi's lips parted as if to say something back. you didn't wait for his response, stepping forward and doing something you'd never actually done before:

you hugged him.

and it didn't feel forced. it certainly didn't feel awkward. megumi, despite his cold exterior, held this warmth around him that you felt touch your skin when your arms wrapped around his neck and you stood on the tips of your toes to be able to rest your chin on his shoulder. if you'd known this earlier, perhaps there would have been several hugs that would have happened sooner.

relishing in the feeling of his presence felt good just as much as it felt bittersweet. it wasn't as though you'd never see him again, you knew that he'd be back; it was the fact that since you met him several years ago, you unknowingly lost the ability to function without him.

it felt stupid to even think about. you were certain he didn't feel the same way — you didn't really care much if that was true.

your porcupine would probably grow another few inches over the weeks he'd be away from you, and you wouldn't be able to fuss and throw a tantrum about it in his presence.

megumi's hands had remained motionless for the next few seconds, seemingly confused about their position. you felt the gentle touch of his hands just above your waist and nearly laughed at his hesitation. you had half a mind to tease him about it, but felt that time (or lack thereof) was on his side.

"you better bring back lots of candy," you said, smiling into his shoulder. "the kind that we don't have here, okay?"

"you'll get a cavity," you heard him murmur.

you grinned.

"we'll get a cavity," you corrected, pulling away and staring up at him with wide eyes. "you'll be eating them with me, porcupine."

he raised a hand and flicked your forehead. you expected it. you let him do it (and that would be the first and last time you'd ever allow it to happen). when he muttered 'dumb mermaid' under his breath, you didn't step on his foot or pull his hair or even twist his ear. although the voice at the back of your head encouraged you to cause a scene, you thought that your family had already caused enough damage and drama. the security guard's face in the corner of the room told you exactly how exasperating that already was. there was no need to make his job even harder than it already was.

you stepped aside as a silent opening for megumi to finally leave. he made his way towards the gate, carrying his suitcase with him.

"megumi," you called out to him.

he looked over at you without hesitation, cheeks slightly pink. you couldn't blame him, the summer heat was almost unbearable.

you scratched the back of your neck.

"can you just hurry up and go? i'm getting this intrusive thought about going past the gate."

he scowled at you. he didn't know why he expected anything different.

"you can't."

"exactly," you said, as though it were the most clearest thing. "but i absolutely will —"

"m/n —" he said calmly, your mother immediately responding by wrapping her arms around your neck from behind you.

"go on, megumi," she told him.

he joined satoru, who had been waiting for him to finish his goodbye session with you, silent throughout it all. it was odd for his character, really. satoru was the loudest and most disruptive person you knew yet he never once intervened with your conversation with megumi. or maybe he was just distracted with the picture of that pretty woman on his phone, who knows?

"you were taking years," you heard satoru tell his godson. "i think my whites were starting to turn into greys —"

there was a pause as satoru peered down at megumi, his glasses easily sliding down the bridge of his nose as he tilted his head.

"hey," he began, with innocent curiosity, "why are you so red?"

"shut up i'm hot," megumi snapped back, awfully defensive.

satoru's brows furrowed. he was used to megumi's bites. he found it all too amusing, enough for him to force it out of him on purpose. he knew he was successful when megumi would resort to barking at the height of his anger... however, this time, he was barely trying to aggravate him. this came as a surprise.

but when satoru thought about it — really thought about it — he found it as satisfying as putting the two final pieces of a puzzle together, as amusing as the click of the charging wire being pushed into his phone, as fascinating as colour co-ordinated books on a library shelf.

and he found it funny as hell.

"oh," he said at first, getting used to the idea before it really hit him, like the soccer he'd accidentally kicked into the face several years ago of a special girl he knows. "OHHH —"

"shut up," growled megumi, glaring at satoru with a sideways glance, not fully staring up at him head on like he usually would because he was embarrassed.

megumi fushiguro was actually embarrassed! what beautiful thing had satoru done in his past life to witness such a thing?

"i see now —"

megumi wanted to snap satoru's neck. "i'll hurt you," he threatened sharply.

but satoru was in his own world, grinning like a maniac and showing off his pearly whites. "megumi has a cr—"

"kfc."

satoru nearly broke down right there and then. megumi thought it served him right, meddling in business that wasn't his. teasing him about something he'd never actually thought off.

it was safe to say that satoru had remained angry at him for the rest of the flight (he even developed an attitude towards suguru, who was left utterly confused with the random change in mood from his best friend).

megumi had never loved the silent treatment more that day.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

bonus scene:

the family returned from their vacation on a friday but were so jet lagged, they spent all of that day and the next sleeping off with no contact. it was on a special sunday that everyone had gathered at megumi's house to reunite, share gifts and experiences, and become one again. even your dad had come back from his travelling spree and brought back a ton of stuff for the rest of the family to go through.

megumi had brought over the candy he'd promised, along with a lot of other stuff he discovered over the course of the four weeks he was gone for. currently, it was being held captive by toji who was refusing to give them to you until you 'behaved' — whatever the hell that meant.

so to take your mind off of that (you planned on retrieving them later anyway) mimiko and nanako had showed you all the pictures they'd taken of megumi as promised. going through them with tsumiki and his mom by the kitchen was the funniest thing. somehow, one of the twins had managed to draw a moustache on him while he was asleep. you had a feeling that the morning after wasn't very pleasant.

but after going through everything and having lots and lots of conversations about what everyone got up to over the summer, you'd grown antsy and restless over the things toji was keeping from you.

enough was enough.

"can i have my gifts now?" you said, eyeing the possessive hand he'd placed over your box of unknown things.

he regarded you with a look of annoyance.

"no," he answered coldly.

"why not?" you whined, desperate.

he was sporting a glass of alcohol. perhaps he was just drunk and taking whatever anger he'd gotten from his testosterone out on you.

"you changed your ways yet, kid?" he questioned vaguely.

you looked around, clueless and in shock. why was no one coming to your aid? couldn't they see how unjust and odd this was? what the hell was he even talking about?

"what does that even mean?" you said loudly, gaining the attention of the rest of the family around you.

"you're not getting anything till you start fixing that attitude, brat," he decided, firm. "looks like you never will though, so you'll get it when pigs fly."

you tilted your head at him, mildly confused.

"but you just got off a plane two days ago."

every bit of chatter had died down, silence radiating around the large room. someone could drop a pin on the floor and the sound would simply echo tumultuously. even mimiko and nanako, who were both always engrossed in their phones, had glanced up to pay attention. you could only hear the sound of toji's loud breaths. when you met his gaze, you thought he looked like someone had pissed in his cereal.

there was a snort from somewhere behind you. if you had to guess, it was probably from satoru, though you wouldn't be too surprised if it actually turned out to be suguru or even mai.

stupefied, stunned, and shocked, toji lifted your gift, enclosed in messy wrapping paper, and threw it out of the window, all without ungluing his eyes from yours.

you didn't question the first action that came to your mind. running to the window to throw yourself after it, ignoring the yells of your family and the arms that had held you back once you'd made your jump — your father's, you'd noticed, when he laughed at your foolishness instead of scolding you.

everyone had turned to scolding toji instead:

"seriously, toji?" his wife said, expression grave. "did you have to go that far?"

"you know she'd go and dive after it," your mom added with a pressing look.

toji grimaced. "since when did you care about anything?"

"since my daughter nearly threw herself out of an open window with no protective gear on —"

and all the while, you lingered at the back of the room with your gift unwrapped, grimacing when satoru rubbed your head in praise for coming up with a response as 'sick as that' — his words, not yours.

the joke continued to exist, even after several months. toji never lived down the day that you had made him look a fool in front of several people. some things just never change.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。. .・。.・゜✭・.・

notes: spam ty in the chat rn bitches

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next chapter :)

taglist (send an ask or comment to be added):

@1l-ynn @shaigimo @shuupiu

© tojiscrack (previously ack4rwoman)

if you enjoyed my writing, i’d really appreciate it if you tipped me — tumblr no longer has the tip function, so maybe here in my tip jar :)

i do not own any of the characters of jjk, i only own the character of y/n and her mother. the other characters belong to gege akutami.

[vee6lolz]

hello!!! how are you?

i was thinking about spencer meeting a teacher hehe I'm not so good at describing it, but maybe she's giving private lessons for a kid's neighbour of his and then they meet at the elevator of the building? pretty please? 😍

𝖑𝖊𝖘𝖘𝖔𝖓 𝖎𝖓 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖑𝖎𝖋𝖙. -- spencer reid x teacher!reader.

warnings/tags: (fluff!) , teacher / chaotic (but sweet) reader.

a/n: i had so much fun writing this help me i love u to whoever suggested it

wc: 1.9k !!

summary: you're a teacher whose putting in the work for summer school students, you wake up late one day and even though it seemed like the most inconvenient thing ever, it worked out in your favor after all.

NOT PROOF READ + ENGLISH IS NOT MY FIRST LANGUAGE.

The morning sun spilled through the gaps in the curtains, casting stripes of light across the tangled mess of blankets in your bed. You blinked groggily, your eyes heavy and puffy from too little sleep and too many regrets. As you rubbed the remnants of last night from your eyes, your phone buzzed insistently on the nightstand, the screen lighting up with a string of missed calls. Four from your ex, two from his best friend. A dull ache settled in your chest—a reminder of things you’d just rather forget.

You groaned, realizing you had returned none of them. Not that you had the time, or the patience. Rolling out of bed, an overwhelming wave of yesterday’s choices washed over you; you reeked of sweat and something faintly reminiscent of cheap wine. Your gaze flicked to the clock on the wall—12:30. Oh shit. You were late.

With an urgency you hadn’t felt in days, you scrambled to gather yourself, moving your hair out of your face as you stumbled towards the bathroom, your heart racing along with the consequences of your procrastination.

you stumbled into the bathroom, splashing cold water on your face in an effort to shake off the fog of last night. the cool rush did little to calm your racing heart as you hastily brushed your teeth, already scanning the small space for something—anything—that was clean to wear.

just as you reached for a shirt that suspiciously looked like it might’ve been worn yesterday, your phone buzzed again. the caller id read “mrs. henderson,” one of your students' moms. with a sigh, you answered, knowing you had no choice.

“hello, mrs. henderson,” you greeted, trying to inject some cheer into your voice.

“yes, ma’am,” you replied, wincing at the urgency in her tone. “yes, i am on my way right now, stuck in traffic.” you glanced at the clock again; the minutes were slipping away.

as you hurriedly threw on a wrinkled pair of pants, you glanced out the window and noticed the swarm of cars barely inching along. your frustration bubbled over, and without thinking, you shouted toward the street, “come on! move it already!”

“ugh, you know how it goes during rush hour,” you continued to mrs. henderson, half-exasperated and half-amused at your own antics. “yes, almost there, buh bye!” you ended the call with a shaky laugh, shaking your head at the chaos of your morning.

with adrenaline pumping and a mounting sense of urgency, you quickly pulled a sweater over your head, choosing to ignore the wrinkles. tugging on your shoes, you grabbed your bag and took one last look in the mirror. you could only hope today wasn’t a complete disaster—and that you wouldn’t have to dodge any more frantic phone calls.

you got out of your car and parked in guest parking, the summer sun pouring through the window, painting the seats in golden hues. instead of lounging on a beach somewhere, sipping piña coladas and listening to the sound of gentle waves, you were stuck in summer school with one specific student. your friends were sharing stories of tropical adventures while you were grading notes on multiplication and grammar. it wasn’t that the student was a bad kid; in fact, she had been a solid performer until the semester began to slip away from her. she was bright but had a stubborn streak that kept her from doing anyone else’s work, that is, until she met you, ms. [l/n]. the school administration figured that since you had built such a great rapport with her, why not sacrifice a little vacation time to help ensure the girl wouldn’t flunk? and if they thought you were just going to say yes because you felt bad... then yeah, they were right. god you hated teaching summer school.

as you arrived and, rushed down the hall, you hit the button for the elevator, tapping it with increasing impatience as the minutes slipped away. the elevator door stood stubbornly closed. you groaned and hit the button again and again, tapping it with a combination of desperation and frustration.

“having trouble?” a voice chimed from behind you. you turned to see a tall figure walking toward you, his frame around six feet tall, effortlessly commanding the small space. he had tousled dark hair, and his cheekbones were high and defined, complemented by a slight smile. his eyes were a striking shade of hazel, an unusual mix that seemed to shift with the light. he wore a fitted black shirt that accentuated his lean frame, paired with dark suit pants. he looked almost too perfect—a professor-type, but a bad one. like someone who could educate you on the theory of relativity and then do things to you you would never forget.

“uh, yeah. it won't budge,” you admitted, feeling a flush creep up your cheeks as you briefly noted how attractive he was. he approached the elevator panel and swiftly pressed the actual button—of course, the one you had been mashing fruitlessly. the elevator doors opened with a soft ding, and you stepped inside, feeling a mix of gratitude and intrigue.

“thank you,” you said, glancing at him as the doors closed. you stood next to each other in the cramped space, and you couldn’t help but eye him curiously. he seemed absorbed in his own thoughts, occasionally looking down at his hands. you couldn’t figure out why he was so quiet, but you didn’t dwell on it for long; your focus was on arriving to the door.

as the elevator hummed its way to your destination, you noticed the number flashing above the door. to your surprise, you were headed to the same floor. just as you reached it, you both instinctively moved toward the door at the same time.

“oh, after you,” he offered, his voice smooth and lightly teasing. your heart raced again, not just from the sense of urgency but also from how charming his laugh was. you couldn't help but notice the way it seemed to echo around you, making you want to hear it again.

“no, please. after you,” you insisted in return, and you both found yourselves caught in an awkward dance, both trying to let the other go first, unable to decide who should step out first.

“after you,” he repeated, laughter dancing in his voice, and just like that, you nodded, cheeks slightly warm, before stepping out of the elevator. as you walked past him, you felt the warmth of his presence lingering, and that laugh—oh, God if you weren't so late right now...

you sat across from your young student at the small kitchen table, surrounded by a mix of colorful worksheets, pencils, and books. The late afternoon light poured in through the window, casting a warm glow over the room. The little girl diligently worked on her times tables, the crinkled paper a testament to her determination.

As you glanced occasionally at her progress, you couldn’t help but feel a sense of fulfillment. Teaching had its challenges, but moments like these reminded you why you loved it. You caught yourself smiling—genuine, unfiltered joy spilling over as the girl successfully rattled off another multiplication fact. but you also caught yourself remembering the tall man in the elevator, you smirked to yourself even more.

In a moment of concentration, she looked up and noticed. “You’re smiling a lot!” she blurted out, her eyes wide with curiosity. You chuckled softly, caught off guard by her observation. “I guess I am,” you replied, trying to keep your tone light.

“My neighbor down the hall works for the FBI,” she announced with an important air. Her youthful confidence was contagious. “He’s a profiler or something, and he says that when someone’s smiling a lot, it means that something happened to make them happy.”

“Yeah, I saw something that made me happy alright,” you said lighter than you intended, before a wave of realization washed over you. maybe that wasn’t... appropriate to say in front of a fourth grader. Your mind raced as you searched for a safe response.

“What does that mean?” She asked, you stammered and stuttered and asked. “Well, uh-- Hey would you look at that its almost time for me to go.” She looked at you curiously, clearly pondering what you’d said. There was a peculiar wisdom in her gaze, and you quickly ushered her away.

After a final glance around the apartment, you slipped on your coat and grabbed your bag, feeling the familiar excitement of stepping out into the bustling world again. The hallway felt cozy as you made your way to the elevator, your footsteps echoing softly against the polished floor.

As the elevator doors slid open with a soft chiming sound, you stepped inside, your mind drifting to thoughts of your next tutoring session and the plans you had for the weekend. Just as the doors were about to close, they jolted back open, and a man stepped in—tall, with tousled dark hair and a warm smile that lit up his face. He glanced over at you, and you instinctively looked up, catching his gaze. In that moment, time seemed to stand still amid the commotion of your lives outside.

A smile broke across your face, a soft, inviting expression that mirrored his own. And without thinking, you spoke up, "You came in this morning, but you're leaving this afternoon." you said, without thinking. It sounded creep to me, but he understood what I meant. He nodded, "Yeah my job it uh-- I work for the uh-- Behavioral Analysis Unit for the FBI." your jaw drops, and he looks, but not limited to, concerned. "Is everything--" "Yeah its just uhm, funny enough my student, I think she was talking about you today-- I teach, so," you mutter out, letting out a breathy laugh.

"She 'profiler..ed'? me, I guess. I was smiling and she knew that something happened this morning to make me smile. She said she got it from you," he looked in complete and udder awe as he let out a chuckle. he nodded, then thinking for a bit. The elevator dinged, and instead of parting ways there, you guys walked the parking lot together. "Anderson? The little one," He said, making the motion with his hand to the side of his hip. You nodded your head in agreement. "Yeah she's really bright," he adds with a smile.

You agree with him, and look at him with curiosity in your eye. "Why were you smiling this morning?". The question lingers through the air, as he gives that laugh, that laugh, that he gave this morning that you almost risked everything for, filling the silence.

"You were staring, really hard." You feel your whole world shatter in embarrassment as those five words escape his lips, you laugh out of complete shock and horror as he can't help but begin to join you out of response to your reaction. "It's okay, it was just funny. Plus, I was too.". You let that stay in the air for a bit— those gorgeous hazel eyes looking down into yours, you smiled. And that's all you did. He walked you to your car, making sure you got there safely. And before he could walk off to his own, you spoke out. "Hey would you— happen to have a card? Just incase I wanna talk to you about, profiling or, the right buttons on the elevator." You say, realizing how stupid that sounding coming out. But he didn't think so, not at all. "Or incase I just wanna, talk to you..." Your voice fading out as he walked back over to you. Spencer Reid.

"I'll be expecting a call from you, you know. About, the right buttons on the elevator." He smiled, chuckling out. You nodded your head. 'will do...' you thought to yourself as you turned the engine on, letting the rumbling of your car fill your ears for a moment.

oh thank, God, to being late.

[thewritetofreespeech]

Night 82: Practice 

words: 2193

rating: E

pairing: Gale x Tav

summary: Gale's first day at Blackstaff Academy was fast approaching, so he and Tav decide to practice with a little student/teacher role play

tags: heterosexual sex (m/f), roleplay, student/teacher roleplay, all members are of age, use of magic, fingering, cunnilingus, rough sex, bend-me-over-the-desk-daddy, Gale is a nervous nelly.

Ao3 - 1000 Night Series

---------------------------🟣----------------------------------

His first day at Blackstaff Academy was fast approaching, and Gale didn’t think he had been this anxious since it was his last first day as a student.

Being offered a teaching position at his alma mater was a dream come true. To be so respected for his magical abilities to instruct others, and perhaps caution them through his follies, was something Gale didn’t realize he wanted so much until he got it. He wanted to make a good first impression. To that end, he was running himself in circles trying to get everything just right. Churning his stomachs into knots in the process.

“I really think it’s going to be fine Gale.” Tav told him, from her safe place on the couch amongst his chaos, trying to soothe him.

“But if I can’t find this damned book then my lesson won’t make any sense!” He insisted.

“Are you going to read the whole book to the class on the first day?”

“Well…no.”

“Are you going to assign them to read it on the first day?”

“Gods no. The text in this book are far too advanced for novice apprentices to even comprehend, much less replicate.”

“Then why do you need it?”

Gale stopped his rummaging. Realizing in his wife’s perfectly boiled down words that she was right. He sighed. “I just…I want to make a good impression on the students…”

“You’re Gale Dekarios,” Tav told him, as if he had forgotten, “formally Gale of Waterdeep, Mystra’s Chosen, and one of the saviors of Faerun. I think the impression has already been made.”

Gale chuckled once. Leave it to Tav to give him a boost of confidence, should his coffers ever run low. “Yes, well, now I want to add ‘teacher extraordinary’ to my apparently long resume.” He came over to sit next to Tav on her couch; in what little space was left to her. “I’ve just never taught anyone before. What if I’m not any good at it?”

“You taught me.” Tav reminded him. The two of them both mentally drifting back to that night in the woods where they shared a moment of magic, connecting with the Weave.

“That is different. A simple incantation done by practiced, beautiful hands.” He told her. “But teaching wizards who wish to master the Weave, to be the foundation on which they build their temple of study, it’s a lot of pressure. If I fail at a spell or incantation, I have nothing to show for it except a sore head and perhaps a few singed eyebrows, but if I fail them….”

“Why don’t we practice?” Tav suggested suddenly.

“Practice?” Gale repeated curiously. As if even that simple concept was lost to him (his students were truly doomed).

“Yeah! Practice! You go through your whole first day lesson and I shall play the part of your eager, attentive student.”

Gale laughed. He had to admit, an eager & attentive Tav was something that was conjuring images not fit for a classroom, but her concept was sound in theory. “Alright. Let’s give it a whirl. But if we’re going to do this,” Gale waved his hand and in a blink, they were no longer standing in their living room but a memory of his own former classroom, “let’s do it right.”

Tav beamed and looked around the illusionary room in awe. Gale wondering if it was the visions of room or the details of his illusion that had her undivided attention. He’d have to show her one day. Walk her around the school. Show her the gardens. Where he used to hide out from the headmaster when he was in trouble. His classroom both then and now. He couldn’t wait.

“First things first, my students will always have to show up to class in proper uniform attire.” He snapped his fingers and Tav flinched as her outfit changed from her common clothes into Blackstaff Academy robes. Making her giggle.

“Of course, Professor.” Gale felt his back go a little straighter when she said that.

He watched as she went over to one of the desks and sat in the front row. Bright eyes. Bright smile. Chin in her hands as the picture of enthusiasm, and the perfect distraction. “Alright, teach me Professor Dekarios.”

Oh…this may have been a bad idea….

For all his wayward thoughts, not fit for a member of the illustrious Blackstaff Academy, Gale felt he did very well for a practice run. Tav took her role very seriously. She paid attention. She asked questions. Hells she even took notes. If he didn’t think about the fact that she was his wife and they were actually standing in their living room for a moment, he would have truly believed that all of this was real.

“So, how did I do?”

“You did wonderfully. Your other students are going to love you.”

Gale smiled softly at Tav, now that they were standing together in classroom like any other post lecture chit-chat, and tucked her hair behind her ear. “You’ll always be my favorite student though.”

“Oh really?” That grin that Gale knew all too well coiled its way on to Tav’s lips. She took a step closer. Leaning her weight forward into his personal space while her hands just barely rested on his hips. “Do favorite students get preferential treatment?”

“They certainly do.” His own hands reach out for her. Closing the gap between them as he stared into her eyes. “If they’re good.”

“Oh, I’m a very good girl.” A whine bubbled up Gale’s throat, just about to come out before he swallowed it back down. “So, what do I get, Professor?”

Gale lunged forward with his lips to capture Tav’s in a kiss. Unable to hold back anymore. He was almost ashamed to admit how turned on he was. Using his new, illustrious, highly respected job as a form of role play but Gods was he hard.

He kissed her recklessly. Still with the presence of mind to keep his illusion intact as he turned them around, so Tav’s back was against the desk. “Sit.” Instantly, she did as she was told. Like the word was some manner of incantation lock like what he just covered in his lecture. “That’s my good girl.” Gale doesn’t miss Tav’s own whimper that doesn’t stay locked inside her throat. “You did so well in class today. Eager. Attentive.” There were those words again. Only this time he could put them into a different kind of practice. “I think eager young students should get rewards. Positive encouragement is the cornerstone of my teaching methods.” With the tip of his finger, Gale pressed against the spot where her collarbones met and slid down. His finger acting like a knife to his illusion as it ‘cut away’ her uniform. The long robes peeling back from her until they were no more than an open cloak around her naked body.

“Gale,” Tav hissed once her skin was exposed; likely from the cool rush of air on her skin, or the brush of magic tickling away as the illusion gave way to some reality. He gave her one stern, but playfully, look and she instantly corrected to, “oh..I mean…Professor.” His clever, clever girl.

He kissed her again. Holding the back of her head close to him. Tav then gasped loudly into his mouth. Her head tilting back. “What’s this you’ve brought me then, hm?” Gale asked as he continued to touch her. His whole hand cupping her while his fingers played with the wet slit they found there. “Certainly doesn’t feel like an apple for your teacher. But maybe it’s just as sweet.”

Falling to his knees between hers, Gale pushed her legs apart to devour her. Hungry for her to the point of drooling almost as much as her cunt. Her hands braced behind her on the desk as she tilted back. Her face towards the sky as she moaned for him. “Oh Gods Gale…! Mhmm….! Fuck right there!”

“Such language from my most gifted student.” Gale scolded as he pulled back.

Tav whined. Her body literally twitching with desire. “Gale…mmm..Professor…” He rewarded her by sliding his index & middle finger over her entrance, between her wet folds and her clit, for remembering their game. “Please don’t stop….”

“Ssh..ssh…ssh…” Gale hushed Tav gently, though his fingers never stopped what they were doing. He then slipped them in. Her opening eager to accept but clenching frantically for want of something more. “Shall we continue your oral exam, or do you want to move on to harder lessons.”

“Harder lessons Professor, please.” He doesn’t want to think of his wife as a slut, but the way she spread her legs with his fingers still inside her, leaning back on his desk, non-verbally begging Gale to fuck her, she looked downright filthy. “I’m ready for a more indepth education.”

Pulling his fingers free from her to use both hands on his belt to get it off faster, Gale pulled out his throbbing cock and thrust it inside her. He didn’t even bother with the rest of his clothes. Behaving as if they had no time for him to take them off. Like someone could walk in from another class at any moment, they were so lost in the illusion. Tav didn’t seem to mind as she moaned greedily against his ear. Her hands fisting in his shirt. “Fuck me hard, Professor. Teach me a lesson.” Gale growled and nipped at her ear. Tav squealed before descending into moans as he did what she asked.

The desk wasn’t as helpful as one would have thought. It lent to the aesthetic and overall fantasy of the moment but didn’t provide a lot of leverage in their current position. All a matter of perspective though, and what kind of teacher would Gale be if he wasn’t a problem solver?

He pulled his cock out, all shiny and wet, before he moved Tav from the desk and flipped her over. A much better position as her hands now braced her in the front and her ass stuck out towards him; illusionary robes long gone now as either Gale willed them to vanish or his spell was cracking on its own with his attention divided, he couldn’t quite tell. Taking only a moment to admire the new vision before him, like any good lover of art, Gale thrust back into Tav hard and continued their rough game.

The sounds she made were invigorating. Loud shouts. Breathy moans. Sharp cries of ecstasy.

“Mmm…Professor…” She was completely lost in the fantasy now. “You’re being so rough…”

“That’s what you asked for, isn’t it.” Tav groaned as his hand wrapped around his throat to tilt it up towards him. His chest against her back as he whispered in her ear. “For me to fuck you hard. Even before you asked with your words. Staring up at me with those big eyes from your desk. You asked for this.”

“Yes.” Her nails scratched against the wood and some muffled version of the word ‘more’ fell from her lips.

“Do you do that for all your professors? Look up at them with those big, beautiful eyes for attention? For praise?”

“N-No.”

“Why is that?”

“I only want you.”

It was Gale’s turn to groan, and he turned Tav’s head as far as it would go to pull her in for a big, sloppy kiss. During this, he felt Tav’s wall shutter around him. Her body quake as her hands fought to keep purchase on the desk. Destroying the imaginary papers scattered on top of them. He lasted a few more thrusts before he came too. His resolve snapping like an overstrung cord, along with his spell.

Without his illusions, their mount disappeared and they fell to the floor. Gale tried to brace them as much as he could to cushion the fall. Feeling the pain in his shoulder though, after he successfully ‘saved them’, he had to wonder why he didn’t conjure some real cushions. “Are you alright?”

“I’m better than alright.” Tav told him. She didn’t seem phased at all by their stumble. But then again stumbles, of any kinds, never seemed to keep her down. She pulled herself free from him but then turned around to face him. Head in her hand with her elbow on the floor. “So, Professor, how did I rate?”

“Oh, full marks all around.” He teased back. Pulling her in for a proper kiss now that they were facing each other. “But I always have time to offer extra credit, for my most industrious students.”

Tav giggled. The sound and that smile infectious. “Do you feel better about your first day now?”

“Well, I can’t do any of that with my students.” He quipped. “But the first part, yes. I think it really helped. I feel I really have a command of it now, although that might be the residual endorphins talking.” Tav snorted, but then curled up beside him.

They seemed content to lay there for a while on the floor. Enjoying the moment. “I still wish I could find that book though.”

“Gale!”

[dianneking]

The Affair - Chapter 2 (Larissa/Reader)

Hello everyone, here's the second installment to this little fic. Writing has been slow-going but the kind comments I got on chapter 1 both here and on AO3 were a great motivation to put in the work when I had the time and brainpower to do so. Hope you enjoy!

Pairing: Larissa Weems/You Rating: Mature Tags: Alcohol consumption, Morally Ambiguous Character, Swearing, Boss/Employee Relationship, Seduction, Second-person POV, Teacher Reader, Power Imbalance.

AO3 link in title below

< Previous Chapter - Next Chapter (tbc)

Chapter 2 - Private Booth

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.” She murmured in your ear and you heard a breathy laugh exiting your mouth, feeling as if it came from miles away. 

You weren’t sure how the evening had evolved to this point, if you had to be perfectly honest. You were sure you both had been the picture of professionality at the start of your dinner together, sitting primly at the table in the private booth, ordering a light meal and talking about lesson plans and your previous work experiences.

You had been nervous, but except for the unusual setting, it hadn’t been that different from countless other meetings you’d had with principals. And, you mused as you took a bite of your salad, to be honest you appreciated having this conversation over food for once instead than in a stuffy office. 

Was it some sort of cultural difference that outcasts had? Or was it a peculiarity of the woman sitting in front of you? She seemed like someone who was more than able to disregard rules if she wanted to. 

You found yourself liking that, despite your usual aversion for rule breaking.

Then…then Larissa (she had asked you to call her Larissa at some point, you were sure of that) Larissa had offered to share a bottle of wine “to toast together at a fruitful collaboration” and you had had half a mind to turn the offer down, but found yourself agreeing. Why the hell not? It had been ages since you drank some good wine, and your principal looked like the kind of woman who’d only choose good alcohol. 

“You have great taste,” you had commented, sipping on your first glass, and it had been at that moment that you had felt the energy in the booth starting to shift. She had dabbed her mouth on her napkin, and let her eyes roam over your figure for a handful of seconds more than it was polite to do before replying, “Oh of course. I very rarely lose my time when it’s not worth it.” Her lips had curved up in a smirk and you had had to take another sip of that wine to give time to your suddenly galloping heart to slow down a bit. Surely she was still talking about the wine, wasn’t she?

But then the conversation had moved on and you thought you had imagined the flirty undertone. Surely she wouldn’t be the type to do something like that, would she? Even if you hadn’t actively sought out gossip, surely you would have heard if Nevermore’s principal was a serial seducer, right? 

Larissa had been an extremely pleasant conversationalist, and often you found yourself invested in the latest anecdote from one of her travels, or her opinion on one subject or another. You laughed at her recounting of the antics of her students, and were amazed at the lavish traditions of Nevermore that she insisted on educating you on. 

You could have listened to her talk all night long, looking at how her face danced with emotions, how the passion she had for her job and her loyalty to her school shone in her voice as well as her eyes. And the way she ran her tongue against her teeth every now and then had you completely mesmerized. You were hanging on her lips and had given up feeling self conscious about it. You wanted to know more about this mysterious lady. You wanted to know all that she’d be willing to tell you.

And you were acutely aware that you still hadn’t discovered what exactly had happened that had left her for several months on sick leave. The students talked of an attack of undead  to the school but you were sure those were exaggerations, and that there was a less…fanciful explanation. Teenagers are known for making a big deal out of small mundanities. Even taking that into account, it seemed like mysteries surrounded this woman, wrapping around her like the subtle yet lingering scent of her perfume. 

“You smell amazing.” You had blurted out, and almost clapped a hand over your own mouth, horrified at your sudden boldness. That was not something to say to your boss who apparently still had the power to fire you if she somehow found you lacking! 

But she hadn’t bristled, nor had she seemed in any way angry or offended. She had simply chuckled lightly, and busied herself with swirling wine inside her glass with slow, hypnotic movements.

“Thank you, dear. It’s Ambre Nuit, by Dior, obviously.”

“...Obviously.” You had parroted back, even though you knew nothing about perfumes and even less about Dior. Your eyes were glued to her hand, still cradling the bowl of the wine glass. You had not noticed until now just how long and tapered and beautiful her fingers were. How effortlessly they curled on the glass shoulder to loosely swirl its contents. A part of you wondered how those hands would feel on your body.

“You know? You could smell it even better if you came to sit beside me…there’s plenty of space on this bench…” her voice had trailed off, and it might have been the wine coursing in your system, but this time you felt like you could almost taste the promises in her voice. 

And that’s how you had found yourself squeezed besides her on the bench, your thigh pressed against hers, the fabric of her dress and of your trousers the only thing separating your skin from making contact with hers. You were acutely aware of how dimmed the lights had been in the private booth, and how the waiters had stopped coming around after they had delivered your desserts. 

A perfect setup, suggested the romantic part of your brain, a part that was often overlooked and laid dormant in the day to day routine.

A perfect trap, countered the more cynical part, who couldn't help but wonder how many times had the beautiful woman beside you put on this show for her latest prey. 

It just all seemed so effortless for her. She mixed her flirting (it had to be flirting by now, right?) with more easygoing topics, she kept topping your glass off with that lovely wine, as well as drinking just as much herself. One part red flag, one part irresistible temptation.  

And it was at that point that she had leaned over, and you had felt her breath hot on your ear, and you were sure you had drank way too much wine because just that little puff of air made your skin erupt in goosebumps and your head spin. 

“I must admit this is highly unprofessional of me, but I cannot help but find you incredibly alluring, darling.”

“I must be dreaming” you said before your common sense could stop you, the tingling of your giggle still in your throat.

But not even in your wildest dreams could you have imagined how her hand felt as it fell on your thigh, light as a feather, but making your skin burn white hot even through the fabric.. 

“Well I suppose I’ll have to pinch you then.”

---------------

Want more? Here's my fanfiction masterlist

Taglist: @barbarasstar @peggycarter3 @aemilia19

[soulgazingwithbucky]

Mr. Barnes, Teacher Aide of the Year (Bucky Barnes x Reader)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Teacher!Reader

Summary: Your brooding Avenger boyfriend becomes a regular visitor in your classroom.

Warnings: flufffffff

Word count: 1k

A/N: absolute self-indulgence - can you tell I miss being a teacher lmao? also Bucky with kids also grumpy bf/playful gf dynamic ugh my heart

When your first graders ask if you're bringing anything to the show-and-tell party, a lightbulb goes off

"I would be the coolest teacher ever if an Avenger came to visit!" "I dunno, doll..." "Come on, you're so good with Cass and AJ!" "That's different. They're family."

You try to convince him by telling him Steve has done a lot for schools. Bucky looks confused so you show him the Captain America Fitness Challenge and all of Steve's PSAs. This derails the conversation for at least 24 hours as Bucky descends into a record-breaking laughing fit. He laughs in bed with you, he laughs at the dinner table, he visits Steve's memorial to laugh with him there

Eventually, he agrees. You wake up to him ironing a henley and chinos. You tut at him and he shoots you a disbelieving look

"Ah, come on, love, cheer up," you tell him as you grab your work bag. He's waiting for you by the door, grumpy as ever in the black leather jacket and steel toe boots he wears on missions. You tighten the buckle across his chest as he scowls at you. "It's for the kids!"

You spend the car ride convincing Bucky that the kids will love him. He carries your bags into the building, but you stop him short at the entrance. He raises his eyebrow at you as you grip the leather sleeve on his left arm and pull. "Oh, come oooonnnn, doll!" he groans as you wave him into the building, detachable sleeve in tow. "Give the people what they want, babe!" you say.

You prepare your classroom for the day before the kids come in. Your room is suddenly the most popular in the building as staff filter in and out, hearing rumors that an Avenger would be in the building. Your principal insists that Bucky speak to the whole school next time. Your work best friend gives him a friendly hug- you all just had dinner the other night, after all. The entire third grade team comes and gets pictures, each of them marveling at a different muscle group on your boyfriend

Your students LOVE him. You eventually have to ask him to spend some time in the teacher's lounge so your class can focus on your lessons

After that, he becomes a monthly visitor. You create a makeshift "Mr. Barnes Day" on the class calendar. The kids count down the days till they see him again

You have to collect black and yellow crayons from the other classrooms. Your supply runs out too quickly because your kids can't stop drawing themselves with a metal arm

One of your students is having a particularly challenging day. Bucky thinks quickly and takes the rest of your kids outside for an impromptu recess. You help your student calm down, and then you both watch Bucky and the class through the window. The kids are absolutely piling on top of him. Your kids proudly declare that they defeated an Avenger when they go home to their families

It's clear one of your students favors Bucky over you, and only accepts help from Bucky when he visits. She asks Bucky for help with a math worksheet, and his eyes widen when he watches her try to solve it. "This is not how we learned it in the '20s," he whispers to you

Bucky comes home one day, proudly declaring that he has the perfect book to read aloud to the class. The cover is a cartoon drawing of an all-American man with a vibranium shield. He is so excited to read "The Hero from Brooklyn" to your students. The final pages even have drawings of him and Sam, "the best friends a hero could have." "Mr. Barnes, is that youuuu?!" your kids wonder.

You turn Bucky's age into the word problem of the day. "If Mr. Barnes is 25 + 83 years old, how old is he?" Your kids frantically calculate on their papers. "108?!?!" your kids yell. Lukas says that's older than his grandma. Nevaeh says that's older than her great-grandma. Raja gently begins to describe color to him, and you both realize she thinks Bucky sees in black and white

Your students beg Bucky to come in during spirit week. They've missed him dearly, as he has been gone for two months on assignment with Sam. Tuesday is Career Day, and he compliments all the little doctors and teachers as they step off the school bus. He is shocked to see a little kid in all black with their arm wrapped in foil. But more and more Buckies filter in, until he is surrounded by a sea of mini-mes. "We're gonna be superheroes when we grow up!!!" they yell, arms adorned in refashioned black tights, foil, and gold body paint. Bucky sheepishly asks if you can take a picture. Bucky usually hates taking pictures, and his request makes your whole year

You told your class that Bucky was just your friend, but your students are way too smart to believe that, especially after Bucky accidentally calls you "sweetheart" in front of them. Graham misses a day for his aunt's wedding; he comes back and asks if you two would invite the class to your wedding. The class loses their marbles over this, yelling, "Mrs. Barrnnessss!" at you. Bucky turns red. During snack, some of the kids draw pictures of what your ring should look like. You proudly hang it up on your fridge at home

At the end of the year, you invite your students' families to a class celebration. You do this every year, but this year has the best turnout (gee, you wonder why). You have a silly awards ceremony, with certificates celebrating "Most Dinosaur Facts Memorized" and "Best at Catching Their Teacher's Mistakes". Bucky is a puddle of pride and love in the corner until the kids demand he comes up. He's confused until they shove a certificate in his hand: "Mr. Barnes, Best Teacher Helper Ever"

[vivwritesfics]

In Bloom

Chapter One

Max wasn't like other Hogwarts students. He was having to live with the terrible things his father had done. Everybody expected him to turn out like his father, but he was the furthest thing from. He just needed two people to see that

Lestappen X Reader

6.7K

Okay so this follows the basic plot of the Harry potter books (from memory), with some major differences to fit our drivers. A list of which Harry potter each driver relates to can be found HERE

Series Masterlist

Max Verstappen could still remember the dread he felt as he stepped up to the sorting hat at just eleven years old. Everybody avoided him on the train, and he'd waited at the back of the queue to be sorted.

Not Slytherin, he thought as he climbed those stairs. Anything but Slytherin.

It came as no surprise that he was sorted into Slytherin. His entire family had been, and he was no different. 'There wasn't a witch or wizard who went bad who wasn't in Slytherin,' he'd heard somebody say before the sorting.

But even Slytherin didn't want him. He went to sit down and everybody shuffled away from him, giving him plenty of space. Even in his newfound house, even with the people that were supposed to be like his family, as professor Vettel had said, he felt alone.

Unable to look past his own dread, Max had failed to notice something. He failed to notice the boy with his hair covering his forehead and eyes, definitely impairing his vision. Even when the boys name was called, Max didn't notice.

He shouldn't have been surprised to hear the name 'Leclerc Charles' called. He was the boy that had defeated his father, after all. The whispers began as soon as his name was called. Gryffindor, his new house, cheered as he ran to join them. The same thing happened for Max just moments later, but without the cheering. They were like mythical creatures to the other students in the hall. Well, Charles was. Max was more like a circus freak.

First year for Max Verstappen was incredibly lonely. All anybody wanted to talk to him about was his father. They were all questions he couldn't answer because he didn't know his father. He had been destroyed when Max was only a year old.

Flying lessons were Max's favourite. He'd grown up watching Quidditch with his mother, even playing it sometimes. She'd played it for her entire life, up until she met Jos. It was in Max's blood. Max was determined to show Professor Button just what he could do to be put on the Slytherin team. No first year had ever made it onto the team before, he was determined to be the first.

Max tried to act shocked when Professor Button went to Professor Alonso, the head of Slytherin house, and begged him to put Max on the Qudditch team. "He's the best thing this schools ever seen!" Professor Button insisted.

Professor Alonso gave him a trial period. One match to prove he could keep up with the older kids on the team. For Max Verstappen, it was the easiest thing in the world.

This was the stuff of legend in Hogwarts. But it was overshadowed by Charles Leclerc and his idiot friends.

Max didn't know what happened to Charles, Esteban and Pierre under the school. It was all speculation and rumours. Nobody know whether they fought a dragon or found the legendary philosophers stone. Only Professor Schumacher knew that. Professor Schumacher and Charles.

Max heard all of the rumours. He ignored them as best he could. But there was one rumour that he couldn't shake. "Someone said that it was your dad Charles was fighting under the school," said Nikita, a fellow Sytherin and a massive dickhead. "Said he killed him, again."

Max couldn't stop his reaction. He leapt out of his seat in the common room and swung his fist at Nikita, hitting him square in the jaw. Nikita stumbled back, holding his jaw. Shock played on his face, but it soon turned into a smile. "You're going to regret," he started. "Didn't you know my father is close, personal friends with the minister?"

"I didn't ask, Nikita," Max spat as he walked away, leaving the common room all together.

First year wasn't all bad for Max. No, he made history on the Quidditch team and he made a few friends. Lando and Daniel, two Hufflepuffs with the widest smiles and hearts of gold.

He met Daniel first. He was maybe the first person Max had ever properly gotten along with. He found a kindred spirit in Daniel. He was maybe the funniest person Max had ever met.

Daniel had introduced Max to Lando halfway through their first year. Max had never had that connection with anybody. He finally knew what it was like to have friends, and it felt amazing. For the first time since arriving at the school, Max was himself. He was happy, funny, bubbly. Every joke Max cracked had Daniel folded at the waist, hands on his knees as he laughed.

Their friendship continued into Max and Lando's second year. Daniel was just that little bit older, going into his fourth year.

Second year was the first proper run in that Max had with Charles Leclerc. It had been a shit day for Max, Nikita was being an ass and his potions test scores were less than perfect. He was pissed at himself. His escape was the quidditch pitch. It was supposed to be empty. He could fly around, weaving in and out of the stands and goal hoops as much as he liked.

But he wasn't alone. No, somebody else was opening the box of quidditch supplies. Max hung back, watching to see what Charles did. He watched as Charles tucked the quaffle under his arm and mounted his broom.

He wasn't even on the quidditch team for his house. What was he doing there? But, the more Max watched, the more he understood. He watched as Charles flew around with skill. He did what Max was going to do, weaving around the stands and through the goal hoops, all with the quaffle tucked under his arm. It was no easy accomplishment. Max was thoroughly impressed.

He gave Charles a nod as he mounted his broom and flew around. They stayed away from each other that time, practiced without disturbing one another.

As soon as Max was done, he rushed to Professor Buttons office. He was still in his quidditch robes, his fingers a little frozen as he held his broom. "Professor," he called as he knocked on the door. "Can I talk to you?"

Max would never tell Charles Leclerc that he was the reason he was on the quidditch team. They hadn't spoken two words to each other yet, Max couldn't imagine a time where they'd be that friendly.

In his second year of Quidditch Max proved himself to be better than anyone expected. But, with the addition of Charles to the Gryffindor team, Slytherin finally had some real competition.

But the year wasn't all sparkles and rainbows. Not when the attacks started. Muggleborns being petrified, it was terrifying.

When the chamber of secrets was opened, everybody turned to Max. His father had opened it last time, hadn't he? So it only made sense that he opened it this time.

Those were the first words Charles Leclerc spoke to him. "Did you open the chamber of secrets?"

Mac couldn't hide the shock on his face. "Are you kidding me? Why would I want to attack muggleborns?" One of his best friends was muggleborn, for goodness sake.

But still, Charles wouldn't leave it alone. Things only got worse when Esteban was petrified. Charles cornered Max, demanded he fixed what he had done. All Max could do was express condolences and walk away.

But then Daniel was petrified. "Fuck," Max choked out when Lando told him. He followed him to the hospital wing and rushed straight to Daniels side. He wouldn't leave, not until his best friend was up and moving. The nurses were too afraid of him to pull him away.

Golden boy Charles saved the day. He found out who had been opening the chamber, a little first year who had no control over her actions. A cure for the petrifications was made using Mandrakes and Esteban and Daniel were on their feet just before the end of the year.

Max had been avoiding Charles. Ever seen his confronted him over Esteban, he wanted nothing to do with him. He and everyone else would always see him as the villain. It was so sad to learn that at just twelve years old.

But Charles found him. He cornered him once again, but this time, his expression was soft. "I'm sorry," he said.

Max looked at the floor, his jaw tight.

"It was wrong of me to assume that you're the one who opened the chamber. I realise that now," he continued.

Max let out something of a snort. "Just because my dad is a monster, it doesn't mean I am," was all he said. He pushed past him, trying to get away, trying to get to the end of year feast. But, before he could get too far, he stopped and turned back towards Charles. "If you want any chance of beating us in Quidditch next year, you should get a haircut, stop it from going in your eyes."

Just before the start of their third year, mass murderer Nico Rosberg escaped from Azkaban. Max remembered reading it in the paper. He read the headline out loud and his mother let the plate she was holding slip from her grasp. "Nico got out?" She asked as she rushed over.

Max nodded his head and showed her the paper. "I wanna know how he got past the dementors," he said with curiosity. He then turned to his mother. "Did you know him?"

It wasn't often she spoke about her time with Jos. From the little bits Max knew, it was awful and Max was the only good thing to come from it.

She shook her head. "He started Hogwarts just as I was finishing. I remember hearing his name a lot. He was always causing some sort of trouble with his best friend."

Max dropped the topic. The news article had said that Nico had been a supporter of his father. If he was out, maybe he was going to try and finish the job on Charles.

At the first feast of the year, a new teacher was introduced. Professor Hamilton, the Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher for the year. But that wasn't all. Max watched from the Slytherin table as Lando walked into the hall, his arm around a pretty girl. He knew Lando had other friends, had seen him with this girl a few times. But he didn't know her, not at all.

It was indescribable how pretty she was. Max's eyes followed as she sat herself down between Lando and his other Hufflepuff friend, Max (Fewtrell).

Max tried really hard not to stare, but it was damn near impossible. She was his very first crush, and he didn't even know her name.

For the few classes he shared with Hufflepuff, Max tried to get Lando to tell him her name. Maybe it was because Lando wasn't the sharpest tool in the box, but he just wasn't getting it. Max was being as obvious as he could be, without saying anything at all.

The day he learnt her name was the same day that he watched her run up to Chatles Leclerc and plant a kiss on his cheek. Maxs face fell. She was his first crush, and she was with somebody else. That was just his luck.

She was with Charles, that was clear. Max saw the way he placed his arm over her shoulders while they talked with Lando. So, why the hell was Lando introducing her to Max in the middle of charms?

She held her hand out to him, a lovely smile on her face. "I can't believe you two haven't met before," Lando said as he sat on the table.

Max couldn't quite believe he was shaking her hand. He had no clue what to say to her and, in a desperate bid to make a good first impression, he made a terrible one

But it didn't matter. The next time Max saw her was care of magical creatures with professor Brown. As with every lesson, Nikita made an ass of himself. Max couldn't help but shut him down, and that seemed to impress her.

But Nikita didn't know when to quit. It was his fault the beast struck him. It was his fault he'd sustained such an injury to his arm.

It was all he could talk about for the next few weeks. Max didn't know what would happen to the beast that had 'attacked' Nikita. Nikita boasted about a trial, about the beast being put to death. Of course, Max didn't believe it, not until he saw her crying about it.

She was too pretty to cry, Max thought as he watched her across the hall. She sat at the Gryffindor table, leaning against Charles as he rubbed her back. That should have been him, Max couldn't help but selfishly think.

On the day of the beasts execution, Max followed her and Charles down to Professor Brown's hut. He stayed behind them, watching as she swung her fist towards Nikita. Good, he thought. It was what that prick deserved.

She and Charles didn't notice him as they stepped into Professor Brown's hut. But Professor Brown did. "Come on in, Max," he said, stepping aside to let her and Charles see him.

Charles didn't scowl, like Max had expected. He gave him a sad smile as she stepped towards him, holding him. "It's awful, Max," she sobbed against his shirt. "They're going to kill him because Nikita is an asshole."

Max stood there, looked at Charles over the top of the head. There was a minute before he wrapped his arms around her and squeezed slightly.

"I found something of yours," said Professor Brown as he guided her away from Max. He grabbed a shoe box and opened it up, revealing her pet rat.

She didn't show up to Hogwarts with an owl, cat, rat or toad. This rat she had found at the station and, in a bid of desperation, she picked him up. He was so tame, she figured he had to be a magical rat.

Before they knew it, they were being ushered out of the hut by Professor Brown. They hid behind shrubbery as Professor Schumacher, the head master, brought Bernie Ecclestone, the minister, and the executioner, down to the hut.

As soon as the three of them had their backs to the students, Max and Charles got her back to the castle. They got halfway there before the sound of the axe hitting something stopped them.

Her gasp rang in the boys ears and she turned towards Charles, burying her face in his chest as she cried. "It's okay, chérie. I've got you."

But, suddenly, he didn't have her. Suddenly she was on the floor, screaming as a vicious, hairy beast dragged her towards the womping willow, its jaws clamped around her leg. Charles screamed her name as he ran after her, but the tree fought back.

Fuck, Max thought as he ran after Charles. The tree attacked them however it could, keeping them away from the tunnel the beast had dragged her down.

Charles dodged those he could, but one smacked him in the chest and he went flying back, the air knocked from his lungs when he landed. Max had gotten closer to the tunnel entrance. He jumped over the trees limbs when they came towards him, getting to the tunnel entrance in minutes.

But he couldn't leave Charles behind. The tree didn't fight him as he ran back towards him. "Come on," Max grunted, grabbing Charles's hand and pulling him to his feet.

The tree once again tried to stop them. Max kept a hold of Charles's hand, pulling him around the attacking limbs. They ducked and dodged and jumped. But one limb managed to knock them both over. Max immediately grabbed the limb and Charles grabbed a hold of him.

They were lifted into the air, the tree trying to throw them off. But it was doing do in a pattern, one Max easily deciphered. "Hold on!" He shouted to Charles, who just squeezed him tighter.

At the right moment Max let go of the branch, falling into the tunnel entrance. Charles was right behind him, landing on top of him. "Sorry," Charles said, taking his hand and helping him up. He pulled his wand from his back pocket and held it out in front of him. "Lumos," he whispered and the tunnel lit up.

Holding his wand out in front of them, Charles led the way through the tunnel. They followed paw prints until they weren't paw prints anymore, but feet, the soles of battered shoes against the dirt.

When they got to a set of old and unstable steps, Max and Charles looked at each other. She was up there, she had to be.

"Nox," Charles whispered. The first step creaked under his foot and he nervously looked to Max. But they climbed the stairs anyway. The closer they got to the top of the stairs, they more they could hear her pained gasps. The two of them hurried.

Charles couldn't stop himself from kicking the door open. "Charles, Max, no!" She cried, grasping her bloody leg. "It's a trap, he's an animagus!"

As the door swung shut behind them, Max and Charles turned around. There he was, his striped jumpsuit tattered and dirty. The smile he wore was grim and his blonde hair was long and disgusting.

Immediately, Max and Charles put their bodies between her and Rosberg. The escaped convict's smile only grew as he took a step forward. "Move aside." His eyes were focused on Max. "It's not you that I want."

But Max stood in front of them protectively. "If you want to get to either of them, you have to go through me."

Rosberg laughed. "Stupid boy," he said through his laugh. "I don't want either of them, I want him," he said, pointing at her.

Her body tembled as she held her mangled leg. The rat in her pocket was squeaking uncontrollably. "I-I'm a girl!" She cried.

But Rosberg let out an exasperated sigh. He lifted his wand.

"Expelliarmus!"

Professor Hamilton, that years defence against the dark arts teacher, stood in the door way. It wasn't a surprise that none of them heard him coming up the stairs, not with the way adrenaline was running through them.

Professor Hamilton looked at the kids and then at Rosberg. And then he dropped his wand and stepped forwards, pulling him into his embrace. "Good to see you, old friend," he said, clapping him on the back.

"What the fuck?" Max couldn't help himself. He held his wand out in front of him. "I trusted you, and this entire time you've been working with him? You've been on my dad's side, too?"

"Max, you don't understand," Hamilton replied, holding his hand up. "This entire time I thought that Nico did all of those terrible things. But then Charles came to me and said he saw someone on the map that I believed to be dead. Sergio Perez."

"Well, the map was wrong, then!" Charles called. He had migrated over to her, crouching by her side. She wasn't okay and there was nothing he could do.

Hamilton shook his head. "The map never lies," he said. "It could only mean one thing, Charles. That Checo was alive and he was the reason your parents are dead."

Slowly, Charles stood up. He pulled his wand from his pocket as he walked forward. "That's not true," he said. "It couldn't have been him because he died. Rosberg killed him and all they could find was-"

"A finger! Chopped it off and escaped into the sewers, he did," Rosberg finished.

Hamilton looked past them as Charles tried to process everything in his mind. "Your rat, please," said Hamilton as he looked at her.

"What? No! What do you want with him?" She cried as she pulled him from her pocket and held him close to her chest. But Professor Hamilton was still advancing, reaching for the rat.

It was Charles that stopped him. He held his hand up, asking Professor Hamilton to just give him a moment, before crouching down to her height. "Please, chérie. I need you to trust me," he said, reaching for the rat.

For just a moment, she stared at Charles. He thought he was going to have to pry the rat from her hands and lose her trust forever. But she willingly gave the rat to Charles, who handed it to Professor Hamilton.

"We do this together," said Rosberg as he grabbed his wand from the floor.

"Expelliarmus!"

Once again, Rosbergs wand went flying out of his hands. Hamilton kept ahold of the rat as they wheeled around to find the head of Slytherin house.

"I told Schumacher," Alonso began as he walked into the room. "I said from the minute you arrived that you were trouble. And here you are, helping your old friend into the castle. Well, Lewis, you can have Nico's old cell once the dementors give him that kiss. I've heard they're looking forward to it. Got a cell in the tower waiting for you."

"Oh, piss off, little Nando no mates," Nico spat, but suddenly Fernando had his wand against his neck. Instantly, Nico stilled.

Fernando turned his attention to the kids. "You three, get back to the castle."

But they weren't going anywhere. Max knew it, Charles knew it, and she couldn't move.

Fernando quickly turned his attention back to Lewis and Nico. Before he could begin talking, Charles had raised his wand. "Expelliarmus!"

It was just meant to disarm Alonso, not send him flying back into the wall, knocking him out cold. "Shit, Charles," Max said through something of a grin. "You attacked a teacher."

But Charles didn't care about that. "Show me Perez," he demanded.

Hamilton and Rosberg were only too happy to oblige. Hamilton placed the rat onto the floor. He and Rosberg pointed their wands at the rat, sending silent spells in his direction.

The rat kept going, seemingly dodging the magic. But then, he wasn’t a rat at all. It wasn't clear which one cast the incantation, but a small-ish man in tattered clothing stood in the place of the rat. The most damning piece of evidence? His missing finger.

Charles couldn't quite believe his eyes. So Rosberg hadn't been the cause of his parents death. It had been Perez all along. Rosberg was an innocent nan, wrongfully imprisoned for all of those years.

"We do this together," said Rosberg. Hamilton nodded and, together, they pointed their wands at Perez.

"No, no, no!" He cried, scurrying across the floor. He quickly moved past Charles,towards her. "Girl, sweet girl," he said as she attempted to shuffle away from him. But, with her leg, she couldn't get far enough. "You won't let them hurt me, will you?"

Max pushed Perez away from her. "Leave her alone," he said through something of a snarl.

"Don't kill him," Charles said as he looked to Hamilton and Rosberg. "Take him to the castle. The dementors can have him and you could go free," he said, eying Rosberg.

Rosberg couldn't quite believe it. He cast a spell that bound Perez and lifted Alonso into the air.

"Oh, chérie," Charles whispered. He leaned forward to kiss her forehead before lifting her into his arms. She let out a small cry as Charles adjusted her, her injured leg brushing against his arm. But she locked her arms around his neck.

Max led the way. His wand was out, light coming from it as tye group of seven made their way back through the tunnel towards the school. Periodically Max turned around, looking at Charles as he carried her. That should have been him, he thought again.

Max climbed out of the tunnel first. He turned taking her body from Charles. One by one they climbed out of the tunnel. She stood on her uninjured leg as Alonso's still unconscious body was placed on the ground. Rosberg and Hamilton wandered a little way away from the group,the two of them looking up at the castle.

"How're you feeling, chérie?" Charles asked. He hardly called her by any other name. She gave a weak, pained smile. That was all Charles needed before he was pulling her body into his own, letting her rest against him.

Suddenly, Hamilton made a noise. A low, guttural noise, something inhuman. He looked away from the castle, his jaw slack and his eyes distant as he stared at the moon. The full moon.

"Shit," Rosberg hissed. Max stood to attention, placing himself between the changing werewolf and his friends. "Lewis, not now!" Nico cried wrapping his arms around him, as if trying to hold him together. "Any time but now!"

But Hamilton was still changing. His limbs were elongating, a thin layer of hair covering his skin. His clothes were shredded from his skin as his snout formed and hid ears sharpened.

Realising that he could do nothing, Nico let go out Lewis. He transformed into his animagus form, putting himself between the werewolf and the students.

At first, Hamilton barely moved. His breathing was heavy as he took just a moment to recover from the transformation.

As best as she could, she hopped forwards. "Chérie," Charles hissed in warning, trying to keep a hold of her.

She couldn't push him away, couldn't stand on her own as she looked at the werewolf. "Professor?" She called. "Professor Hamilton?"

The beast raised its head. The howl it let out echoed around the castle grounds. It was enough to rouse Professor Alonso from his temporary time out. "You!" He cried, pointing an accusing finger at Charles. Charles, who didn't much care, Charles, who was more concerned with getting her as close to him as possible.

When Alonso turned and around saw the beast, he threw his arms protectively around the three of them, keeping them behind him. There wasn't much else he could do but watch, his body shielding them, as Nico jumped at the beast.

The werewolf immediately threw him off, but Nico came back, this time doing damage. But again, the werewolf tossed him to one side. This time, Nico didn't get back up.

With his threat neutralised, the werewolf turned his attention back to the four of them. He got down onto all fours and slowly stalked forward. His slow pace only seemed to indicate that he was toying with them, that, no matter what they did, they were his prey.

Suddenly, from way in the distance, there was a howl. Hamilton turned towards it. He howled once more himself before he took off, running in the direction the howl had come from and completely ignoring his once prey.

As soon as Hamilton was gone, Charles passed her to Max. "Get her to the hospital wing!" He shouted as he took off running.

"Leclerc!" Alonso bellowed, but he made no move to go after him. "Get back here!"

But Charles was gone, disappearing off to wherever Nico was.

Her arms locked around Max's neck as he picked her up. Suddenly he was thinking quidditch for the useful muscles it had given him. "I'm sorry to put you through all of this," she whispered as her head fell against his shoulder.

He shook his head. "You didn't put me through anything," he replied. He so desperately wanted to kiss her head like he had seen Charles do. "Besides, if I wasn't here Professor Alonso would be carrying you. Do you really want that?" He asked and she let out a little giggle.

A small amount of pride blossomed in his chest.

At the hospital wing Max was asked to leave. But he refused. There was no way in hell he was just going to leave her. It was the only time he threw his name around to get his way.

At some point in the night Charles was brought into the hospital wing. He looked awful, like he had tried to drive a race car after suffering from appendicitis. But the nurse had confirmed that he was alive.

Max didn't sleep much that night. He stayed up, watching over his friends, recounting the events. It wasn't Nico Rosberg who had killed all of those people in the name of his father. It was Sergio Perez. Perez had gotten away in the commotion of their teacher being a fucking werewolf. It was crazy, but Max didn't know how he hadn't spotted it soon. Lupin took a few days a month off, Max just didn't notice that they were around the time of a full moon.

But Perez had gotten away, his father's loyal dog had gotten away, and Max would never forgive himsed.

He didn't know when he had fallen asleep. But, when he woke up, Pierre and Esteban sat around Charles. "I can't believe you went with him instead of us," Pierre muttered as he gestured to Max. Max simply sat up straighter, scowling in return.

"He saved her," was all Charles said as he nodded towards the girl sleeping beside Max.

The three of them continued to talk, and Max tried his best not to listen in. But it was harder than it looked when he constantly heard his name being dropped. They could fucking talk about him, he didn't care. By this point, he just didn't care.

When the doors flew open and Professor Schumacher strode in, Esteban and Pierre stood up. "Esteban, Pierre," the professor said. They said goodbye to Charles and walked past their head teacher. But, before they could get too far, Professor Schumacher grabbed a hold of Pierre. What he said to Pierre was too hushed for anybody else to hear, but it had him pulling something from beneath his shirt and striding towards the boys.

"Max, Charles," he said and Max left his chair, coming to stand beside Charles. Wordlessly, Professor Schumacher placed something over their heads.

Max picked up the necklace. "A time turner?"

"What's a time turner?" Asked Charles.

But Professor Schumacher didn't answer his question. "Two turns should do it," he said. "And you should be able to set everything right. Remember, don't let anybody see you," he said and strode out of the hospital wing.

Max turned the time turner. "How on earth did Pierre get one of these?" He asked as he spun it twice, and the room around them moved backwards. Professor Alonso carried Charles out of the hospital wing and Max took her back outside. Other students came and left, time still turning around them.

When it, at last, stilled, Max pulled the time turner from around their necks and placed it in his pocket. "Come on," he said as he grabbed Charles's hand.

As he pulled him out of the hospital wing, Max checked the time on his watch. "It's 5PM, where were we at five?"

Charles took a moment to think. "Ugh, I know I was taking her down to see Zac," he answered. "She punched Nikita."

Knowing exactly where to go, Max pulled Charles along. He pulled him through the halls, towards where they already were. But, suddenly, Max stopped. "Wha-" Charles began, but Max put his hand over his mouth, silencing him as he pulled him into an alcove.

The Max from before, the one that had been following Charles and her, turned for just a second. But, when she swung at Nikita, it distracted him long enough for the Max from the future to pull Charles outside.

"Max, what the hell?" Charles hissed as they watched Nikita and his friends run away. Charles from the past had his hand on the small of her back as he moved her along, heading to Zacs, Professor Brown's, hut. Max from the past followed. "That's us!"

"You're incredibly observant," Max quipped as he grabbed his hand once more. "I suppose you can see now you've cut your hair."

Charles let out a scoff, but Max was pulling him along once again, into the woods just opposite Zac's hut.

Nobody saw them, nobody but Rocky, the hippogriff. He raised his head and snorted, but quickly went back to sleep. "We can save him, too," Charles realised. "Him and Nico."

He strode forward and sent to grab the chain that kept Rocky tethered to the garden, but Max stopped him. "Professor Schumacher and the minister need to see him first, or you'll get Fred arrested," he whispered. Charles clenched his fists at his sides, but he nodded.

They watched as Fred pulled the rat from the box and handed it to her. There he was, Sergio Perez. Max and Charles looked at each other, their thoughts much the same. But they held back, and not just because the headmaster and the minister were coming.

They watched as the three of them left the hut. As the minister and Schumacher conversed with Fred, Charles and Max ran into the vegetable garden and grabbed a hold of Rocky's chain. "Come on, Rocky," Charles hissed, but the creature insisted on sleeping. It was only when Max bribed him with food that he followed them into the woods.

A sliver of satisfaction ran through them when the execution brought his axe down onto a bit of wood in anger. Rocky was safe, and all they had to do was wait.

It was surreal, watching everything that had happened. They watched as Nico, the dog, grabbed her leg and dragged her beneath the tree. They watched as they struggled to follow her.

"Can I ask you something?" Max enquired as he sat on the ground beside him. Rocky was behind them, playing in the trees. When Charles nodded his head, he continued. "Last year, you asked me if I opened the chamber. Do you really think I'm that much of a monster? Do you really think I'm that much like my dad?"

Charles let out an audible sigh. "I feel awful for that," he said as he lent back against the tree behind him. "All I know about your dad is that he's the reason my parents are dead. I'd met him in first year and, well, I still have nightmares about it. Of I had known you last year like I do now, I wouldn't have dreamed of blaming you."

They talked, actually talked, until Professor Hamilton came to the tree. "Did you have any idea he was a werewolf?" Max asked and Charles shook his head.

He pulled the time turner from his pocket. "Do you know why Pierre would have that?" Charles asked as he reached out to touch it.

Max shrugged his shoulders. "It makes sense, though. Pierre has been in so many classes this year, more than he should have had time for. This must be how he's being going to them all."

Next, Professor Alonso came by, and then, minutes later, they were all making their way out of the tree. "Thanks for looking after her," said Charles as he watched himself hand her to Max.

Max waved him off.

But it wasn't long before Professor Hamilton started his transformation. "Fuck," Max whispered as he watched Nico try and fail to protect them. What happened when they were up there? Something had howled, but no howl was coming. "Shit, get ready to run," he said to Charles before cupping his hands around his mouth and letting out a mighty howl.

The werewolf looked, but he didn't immediately begin running towards them. So, Max did it again.

The beast howled back and suddenly it was running towards them. "We're going to die out here," said Charles.

"Yep," Max agreed and the two boys took off running. But they didn't get very far, not before the werewolf caught up to them.

Their hearts were beating, blood so loud in their ears that they were sure the werewolf could hear them. Max squeezed his eyes shut, unable to keep them opened. He was incredibly grateful when Charles pulled him further around the tree they were hiding behind.

All they could hear was their werewolf Professor sniffing around behind them. It was the only indication that they were somewhat safe. But then, the sniffing stopped and the growls began. The two turned, almost paralysed with fear as the werewolf stood to its full height. "Professor," Charles began, but he was no longer human.

He moved towards them and they tried to back up. He raised a large, clawed hand, but he didn't get a chance to bring it down, to strike them. Not before Rocky jumped in front of them, using his large talons to fend off the beast.

Whimpering, the werewolf ran off. "Go Rocky!" Charles called as the hippogriff pranced in front of him.

Max checked the time on his watch. "Come on," he said, once again reaching for Charles's hand. Over the course of the evening he'd noticed just how much he'd enjoyed that, enjoyed holding Charles's hand. "We've got to get back to the castle."

But Charles ripped his hand away from Max. "We need to go and save Nico!" He called before he took off running. "Someone was there, Max! Someone cast a patronus and fended off the dementors! I need to know who it is!"

But, when they got to the lake, nobody was there. Just Charles from the past cradling Nico's body as dementors fed off of them. "Charles!" Max called.

"They're coming to help! I know they are!"

But Charles from the past and Nico looked terrible, close to the end. "Charles, you're dying. And nobody's coming," he said softly.

Charles bit his lip as he looked at Max. He sucked in one steady breath and ran over to the edge of the lake. He raised his wand, drew in a deep breath and bellowed, "EXPECTO PATRONUM!"

It was an incredible sight. Max knew Charles was capable of some serious magic, he just didn't realise it was this serious. All of the dementors left the scene just in time for Professor Alonso to lift the unconscious Charles and Nico away from the scene.

Nico, they could still save Nico. "Come on!" Charles shouted as he climbed onto Rocky's back. Taking Max's hand, he pulled him onto Rocky's back and he secured his arms around him.

Rocky flew them out of the woods. "Where would Alonso put Nico?" Max shouted over the sounds of the wind.

"When we were in the shack, he said something about the tower," Charles called back.

That was exactly where Rocky took them. As he landed them outside of the cell, Max slipped from Rocky's back and cast a spell to open the door.

Immediately, Nico ran out to them. "Thank you," he said to them. "Both of you. If it wasn't for your bravery, I would have lost my life."

"Quick, take Rocky and go, before the dementors come," Charles said. He helped Nico onto the Hippogriff's back. Immediately they took off, and Charles and Max began running, heading back to the hospital wing.

When they got there, Professor Schumacher was pulling the doors shut behind him. "We did it," said Charles, his hands on his knees. "We saved both of them."

Professor Schumacher looked at the both of them. "I have no idea what you're talking about," he said and took his leave, leaving the boys standing there.

Charles released a breath. "I can't believe we actually did it," he said, grinning at Max. "Should we go and tell her all about it?"

Max nodded his head and Charles pushed his way into the hospital wing. He watched, frozen in place as he strode across the room, over to her. Suddenly, Max didn't feel so jealous as he watched Charles run his fingers through her hair.

That was when he realised, he liked boys, too.

Permanent Taglist (CLOSED): @biancathecool @rewmuslupin @prettiest-at-the-party @hellowgoodbye @not-nyasa @formulaal @minseok-smaus @andydrysdalerogers @hiireadstuff @darleneslane @urfavnoirette @goldenharrysworld @hrts4scarr @llando4norris @evlkking @lilymurphy03 @hollie911 @customsbyjcg-blog @honethatty12 @nikfigueiredo

[graysnetwork]

What kind of dads I think the 141 tf would be

༻━━━━༺❀༻━━━━༺

𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃 '𝒮𝑜𝒶𝓅'  𝓜.

❀ Deffo a girl dad

❀ He has three girls with you and always rough housing with them—throwing them in the air and doing anything to make his little girls giggle

❀ ALWAYs giving you heart attacks with the trick he does with them

Once pushed his daughter abruptly into the pool after swimming lessons to see if they payed off (they did)

Then one of your daughters wanted to try a yoga tick and she definitely flipped when she wasn't supposed to.

❀ Always trying to make them happy

Takes them to the daddy daughter dances, takes them on daddy–daughter dates

Buys them anything they want whether it be food to the latest toy

❀ Takes pictures of them all the time!!! What can he say, he likes proof

❀ After a year of taking a break from kids you two try again and finally he gets a boy

He’s so excited

𝒮𝒾𝓂𝑜𝓃 '𝒢𝒽𝑜𝓈𝓉’ 𝓡.

❀ Girl dad all the way!

❀ Obsessed with his little girl and never lets her out of his sight.

❀ Gets teary eyed when she grows every month

❀ He was hesitant to have a kid but you two got the case of baby fever (and horniness) and made one. Now he's in love.

❀ Cherishes her and makes sure she's always happy.

❀ The burly man is suddenly so gentle and always doing peek-a-boo to make her smile

❀ You two wait at least three years to have another kid

Now he’s a girl and boy dad!

❀ Makes sure to treat the two of them so well and make sure they never experience what he did when he was little.

❀ Even with his son hes gently

Sees how Soap plays with his daughters and has a heart attack at the thought of them being in the air

But when his son grows up a bit and starts getting more “tough” (aka punching Simon with his little fists and Simon just thinks it his muscles spasming until he turns around and sees the little guy) he starts playing with him somewhat more rough.

Teaches him Krav Maga

Takes him to the shooting range (only after hes 15)

Also teaches his daughter Krav Maga and gives her enough self protection items to protect herself and the whole school

❀ He tries to not over do it but he's always spending his money on them (and u obvi)

❀ Takes them by base sometimes just to meet their “uncles.”

❀ He just loves them so much

𝒥𝑜𝒽𝓃 𝒫𝓇𝒾𝒸𝑒

❀ Girl dad.

❀ Doesn't have a boy—wouldn't be mad if he had one but he doesn't care, hes ecstatic with his two girls.

❀ Cherishes those precious little girls with his whole heart

❀ Very strict and tells them once they can understand words that they cant date until they turn 30

When they grow up it gets annoying but he's very insistent that they cant date—at least not in high school

❀ He does all the things “normal families do” when he's back home

Disneyland trips, road trips, dinners anywhere the family wants

Speaking of dinners—everyone votes which restaurant sounds the best and that's where you guys go

❀ Almost cries every first day of school

Always posting/sharing photos in family and friend gc’s to show off his daughters achievements

Example:

Price: (Photo of him next to his daughter after getting an award) My daughters amazing

Ghost: 👍

Soap: good kid, congrats

Gaz: let her know we’re proud!

❀ If he posts a picture i believe the caption would go: My little girl is always putting in the work! Best student I know!

He’s always having proud dad moments 🥺

𝒦𝓎𝓁𝑒 "𝒢𝒶𝓏" 𝒢.

❀ Two boys and then one girl

❀ Loves all of them so much!

❀ He’s always teaching them new things

​​He’s a teaching dad

Teaches them how to cook, play sports, bake, swim, ect.

❀ Takes them to sports events and concerts

He’s the kind of guy whos always giving them reasons to post pics

❀ Soaps a cool dad but he's a rowdy cool, Kyle on the other hand is cool chill dad

His kids are never embarrassed by him and their friends also love him

❀ (He’s the dad who the moms like)

❀ Not as strict on his kids but he is very protective

❀ He also teaches his kids self defense

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[spaceyaceface]

you are a wildflower garden growing in my head

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC/Reader

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: None

Summary: When she learns that Ominis Gaunt is well versed in floriography, she insists on him giving her lessons to learn the language of flowers. Thankfully, he ins't too hard to convince. Requested by @applinsandoranges

A/N: I loved researching Floriography a bit (or maybe a lot) for this fic!!! I'm sure it's not perfect, but I tried my best to be as accurate as possible. Thank you thank you THANK YOU to applins for requesting, I loved writing this so much!!!

Normally, the courtyard was pretty quiet—it was what made it an ideal place to study in the early spring, when the snow had just finished melting and trees had started to bud. She and Ominis had made a habit of sitting out there in the late afternoons, when Sebastian was serving his various detentions. 

That day didn’t seem to qualify for normal. 

Everett Clopton was chasing after a weeping Adelaide Oakes, who had burst out into wailing tears mere moments ago. 

“Addie, what did I do wrong?” Everett shouted after her, the flowers he had given her left on the ground where he had thrown them. “I’m sorry! Come back!” 

The ruckus caused quite the stir in the courtyard, students looking up from their studies to watch the pair—she herself couldn’t help but stop her reading, observing them with a furrowed brow. 

“What was all that?” Ominis asked from beside her. 

“Everett Clopton just gave Adelaide Oakes some flowers, then she ran off crying,” she summarized quickly. “Pretty unexpected turn of events. I always thought she returned his feelings.” 

Ominis frowned. “What flowers did he give her?”

She took a closer look at the flowers laying on the ground, tilting her head a bit. “They’re petunias, I think.” 

The loud laugh from beside her caught her off guard—Ominis usually contained his amusement pretty well, especially in public, so his loss of composure made her brow furrow. “What on earth is so funny?” she asked, perplexed. 

Ominis sat himself back up, taking a deep breath. Small chuckles still escaped him, but he seemed to have control of himself now. “Petunias,” he began, “Mean anger and resentment. No wonder Adelaide was upset.” 

Her own lips turned up in the corners. “Seems like poor Everett didn’t have a clue,” she said. “But to be far, neither did I.” 

“I’m not surprised Adelaide caught on,” Ominis said. “Hufflepuffs are usually more inclined to plantlife, aren’t they?”

“I suppose,” she replied. “Hold on, how do you know the meaning of petunias?”

She didn’t miss the slightest blush that covered Ominis’s cheeks. “My sisters,” he answered. “It’s a form of sending messages that normally wouldn’t be allowed to be shared when properly courting. They’d receive bouquets from suitors and would sit and talk about their meanings for hours, speculating it from every angle. I grew a bit fascinated by it, and learned what I could about the subject flower meanings.” He gave a small smile. “I know much more than the meaning of petunias.”

She smiled, thinking of a young Ominis delving into such topics. She rarely heard him talk about things he was excited about, especially from when he was younger. There was a certain glow to his features when he did—one that fit beautifully with his handsome features. It was subtle; something people who’d spent less time observing Ominis would likely have missed. But she had become somewhat of an expert in the slight expressions on her friends face—likely due to the extended periods of time she found herself staring at him. It had only gotten worse as they grew closer—as her feelings for him became stronger. 

“How come you’ve never told me about any of it?” she asked. 

He shrugged. “You never asked.”

“Well, I’m asking now.” 

He chuckled, hands reaching for his textbook once more. “Fine then. I’ll give you a lesson in floriography. Just give me some time to prepare for it. We better finish our Potions homework in the meantime; Sebastian will need someone to copy off of later tonight.”

She sighed, but didn’t argue. She’d hold him to his lessons, she’d make sure of that. 

-

It took a few days of pestering him until he finally told her he’d teach her about flowers later in the afternoon. She agreed to meet him by the Black Lake—the spring had started to warm up, and being near the water seemed like a wonderful idea. 

When she trekked down to their meeting spot, her eyes widened a bit at the scene. No wonder he had wanted to take a bit of time to prepare—he’d gone out and gathered a wide variety of flora, each of them sitting around him. She couldn’t help but think that anyone who didn’t know of their intentions would have taken the scene as a romantic one. 

He heard her approach, smiling up at her and patting the ground beside where he sat. “My student has arrived.”

“You better not assign me homework,” she said, sitting down. She enjoyed the chuckle her comment drew out of him. 

“I’m sure you’re busy enough studying for N.E.W.T.S. already,” he said. 

She groaned. “God, don’t remind me. I came to escape that for a while.” 

“Well, hopefully I won’t take up too much space in your head with this useless information.”

“Hang on,” she protested. “Don’t go calling it useless. Seemed like Everett would have benefited greatly with this knowledge. Besides, who knows when I’ll have a secret message to decode?” 

He faced away from her, busying himself by grabbing a couple of the plants beside him. Was his face a bit flushed–? Surely not. It was perfectly clear when his head tilted toward her once more. 

“As you learned not long ago, not all flowers are fit for a display of love or affection.” He smiled a bit. “In fact, a lot of them have sentiments more akin to the opposite. For example…”

He reached to his side, pulling forward a cluster of small flowers, bright pink with white on the edges of the petals. “These are China Pinks, or Indian Pinks. I’ve been told they’re quite lovely. But looks can be deceiving, as the mean the giver has an aversion for the receiver.” 

She laughed a bit. “That would be a shock to receive, I’m sure.” 

He grinned. “Precisely. If one wanted to be a little less harsh in their message, one could instead give someone everflowering candytuft—”

“Candytuft?” she interrupted, giggling.

He shook his head in mock annoyance. “Yes, candytuft. Don’t be fooled by its sweet name, it means indifference.” He placed a white flower with many layers down in front of her. 

“Are all these flowers a way of telling me how you really feel about me?” 

Ominis laughed at that. “No, I just wanted to give you a sample of some of the things you can say. Those last two are just as untrue of my sentiments for you as the message this next one conveys.” He showed her a small white flower with a yellow center and red dot on each petal. 

“What’s that one mean? I’m going to burn down your house?” 

“It means ‘I die tomorrow.’”

Her jaw dropped, and she couldn’t help but let out a surprised laugh. “Do people really tell people things like that through flowers?”

Ominis shrugged, setting the flower aside. “They must, if it’s a well-known enough meaning.” 

“I’ll never look at flowers the same way again.” 

“They’re not all bad,” he promised. He continued with his lesson, bringing forth each flower he had brought. She listened to each one very attentively, thoroughly enjoying listening to him. He was right—it was a fascinating topic. She learned magnolias represented a love for nature. Mountain laurels stood for ambition. The colors mattered greatly, too—a red columbine meant anxious and trembling, while a purple one meant the giver was resolved to win.

By the time the sun came to rest on the horizon, her head was swimming with various names and meanings. They’d gone through all of the samples Ominis had brought her, and he seemed satisfied with the lesson he’d given her. 

“There better not be a test,” she said as he gathered up the flowers around them. He grinned. 

“Don’t worry, I’m not that cruel.”

The two of them stood, ready to be on their way. “I’ve got to visit Poppy about nifflers she says she spotted,” she told him, wishing she could spend the time it took to walk back to the castle with him. 

“Ah, of course. You and your beasts,” he said with a small smile. He shifted on his feet. “Before you go, I’d like you to have this.” 

He handed her a large red flower, tall and curving with strange petals sticking up all down the length of it. She took it from him, brows furrowed. “I don’t remember what this one meant. You haven’t showed it to me yet, have you?” 

“Not yet, no,” he said, voice quiet. 

“What’s it mean?” 

He smiled at her softly. “I’ll tell you soon enough.” 

And with that, he headed off toward the castle. 

-

She really tried not to think too much about the large flower occupying the vase in her dorm room over the next several days. Tried being the key word. Every time she walked into her room and saw it, she couldn’t help the slight flip of her stomach, remembering the slight blush Ominis had sported while handing it to her. 

Surely it was something simple and lighthearted. Surely it was some sort of jab or joke, and not any sort of… confession. He had spent that whole lesson talking about what flowers meant outside of romance, hadn’t he? Why would the gift he gave her at the end be any different?

Even so, she found herself checking out a book on floriography at the library, trying to learn the secret message he’d given her. So far she’d learned nothing of it. 

It didn’t mean she didn’t learn anything, though. 

It had taken them several days to find time for another one of their little lessons, with actual studies taking the unfortunate priority. But they promised to squeeze it in on a Saturday morning just before lunch. She’d woken up early to locate one of the things she’d latched onto while reading her book—a variegated tulip. 

Beautiful eyes, the book had told her. She figured if he got to tantalize her by giving her that flower, the least she could do was try to flatter him a bit into telling her. She hoped it wasn’t too forward; she’d told him his eyes were lovely before, but to do so in a language so dear to him—well, it just felt a bit intimate. 

In any case, she found herself headed to the very same shore of the Black Lake, seeing a scene much like the first time they had met there. Ominis sat there with a group of flowers, but this time, they were all bunched together, forming a mis-match bouquet. 

She grinned as she plopped down beside him, tulip tucked away. “That looks lovely.”

Ominis chuckled. “I hope so. All I know is it smells pretty decent.” 

“Is that how you tell all of them apart?” she asked. “The scent?”

He nodded. “That and the texture of the petals. Though I’ve gotten used to using my nose first—I’ve ruined a good number of flowers by manhandling them.” 

She laughed. “It’s a bouquet this time.” 

“Very observant of you,” he teased. She gave him a gentle shove in response, making him laugh. “Don’t abuse your teacher!”

“Don’t patronize your student,” she said, grinning. 

He shook his head. “As my amazingly brilliant and very astute student pointed out, I’m holding a bouquet—” she shoved him again— “which will be the focus of our lesson today.” 

“Permission to leave class early?”

“No.”

“Fine.” 

He chuckled, his fingers beginning to gently run along the different flowers he held in the bunch. “Last time we went over some of the more specific and less used meanings. Today I’m hoping to touch on some of the more common flowers, ones you’d be more likely to come across.”

“Sounds practical.”

“Precisely. I’ve gathered them in a bouquet for you—often times you’ll receive a bouquet so the sender can express more complex feelings, allowing the combination to give a better overview of their emotions and perception of you. So let’s dive in.” 

His finger pointed out a stem holding a few small white flowers. “These are white bell flowers, an expression of gratitude.” 

She hummed. “I like those ones. They’re pretty.” 

He smiled and nodded, turning the bouquet. “Here are oak-leaved geraniums, meaning true friendship.” 

She tilted her head, scooting a bit closer to him for a better look at the pink petals. “How sweet,” she said, smiling. 

His ears went a little red. “The next one needs a bit of an explanation as to why I included it in your bouquet, but—”

“Wait, my bouquet?” she asked. 

“Yes, your bouquet,” he said, red spreading to his cheeks and across his nose. “Now let me continue.” 

“I… carry on, then.” 

His fingers ran over the flowers he’d been indicating once more. “Water willows are representative of freedom. You’re always running off to some place, despite all the rules you should follow, so… freedom.” 

She nodded beside him. “That makes sense.”

He continued on, explaining the reasoning of each flower there in her bouquet. Each one made her heart beat a little faster—he’d spent all that time, thinking of her, picking out exactly the right words to describe her and what she meant to him. It left her grinning like an idiot as she tried to remember each and every thing he said. None of the things he brought up trailed into the realm of romance, but she didn’t need it to. Not now, at least. It was perfect, just as it was. 

“And there you have it,” he said finally. “Your bouquet.” He held it out to her, tilting his head away from her a bit. 

“I… I don’t know what to say, Ominis,” she said, taking it from him and holding it gently. “This is… you’re too kind.” 

“You don’t need to say anything,” he said quickly. “I thought a… demonstration would be best, to help you learn about it. Sorry if I overstepped—”

“You didn’t overstep anything,” she said. “I’m just glad I at least have something to give you in return. I’m sorry it’s not a full bouquet, but it’ll have to do.”

She pulled out her tulip, which looked a little pitiful next to his varied display. But she pressed it into his hand. He felt up the stem gently, and then froze.

“Is… is this a tulip?” he asked quietly. “What color is it?”

She furrowed her brows at his reaction. “It is. It’s a variegated tulip.” 

He let out a breath he must have been holding, a small smile coming to his face. “Beautiful eyes,” he said softly. “Thank you.” 

She couldn’t help but think his smile had a strange tainted emotion behind it—one she couldn’t quite grasp. “You’re welcome. Sorry it isn’t much.”

He tilted his head in her direction. “It’s perfect.” 

-

She couldn’t help thinking about Ominis’s reaction to her tulip the rest of the day. Something about it bothered her—the way he froze up at first, the strange tension in his voice. 

It wasn’t until she looked back at her book on floriography she thought she understood why. 

She’d looked back at the page on the variegated tulip, trying to see if there was something she missed, when her eyes drifted up to the entry just above it. 

Tulip; Red - Declaration of Love. 

Her stomach churned. That had to be it. Ominis had no way of knowing what color tulip she had handed him. For all he knew, she’d been about to confess her feelings to him. 

But had he been full of dread or excitement?

She racked her brain, trying to recall every last detail of his words, he tones, his movements. But to no avail. She was just as clueless of his feelings for her as before

The coming days didn’t help, either. As much as she tried to observe the way he interacted with her, all she learned was… well, that she loved him. She already knew that, of course. But she kept being reminded of all the little reasons why. 

Like the way he whispered snarky jokes to her in class. The way he smiled so slightly when he was amused. The way he walked her to class, even it made him late to his own. Everything about him, really. 

She loved that he made the time to have one final lesson, right before N.E.W.T.S., too. 

Being so sure of her feelings now, she decided to take a risk. Which was why, before she left for the Black Lake, she tucked a red tulip into the pocket of her robes. 

Maybe she’d use it. It was still up for debate—but she’d have it ready if there was even a chance he might feel the same. 

When she arrived at their meeting spot, Ominis was fiddling with the flowers around him. Much like the first time, they laid sprawled out, ready to be dealt with one by one. She came and sat across from him, smiling. “Well, here I am, at my final lesson,” she said. 

He chuckled. “I hope I’ve been a sufficient teacher.”

“We’ll see if I pass the test.” 

He let the smile linger on his face for a moment before moving to one of the first flowers beside him. “I feel like I’ve done a proper job of informing you the uses of flora outside of romance—however, it doesn’t mean it’s still not a large part of it.” 

The flower he held twirled in his fingers. She felt her cheeks heat up a bit—no, she couldn’t get too excited about this. Just because they were talking about love and affection didn’t mean…

“I feel like it’s an important section to cover,” she said, still eyeing the flower he held—pink with drooping petals. 

He nodded. “Extremely. This one I’m holding is a bit… well, dramatic, I suppose. But it conveys the giver’s message pretty clearly. Justicia—the perfection of female loveliness.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Very clearly. I assume you only give it if you really mean to court someone?” 

“Precisely. Would you mind holding it for me?” 

Before she could reply, he pressed the stem into her hand, all but forcing her to take it. She grasped without much thought, as Ominis was already reaching for the next flower. He held up the cluster of small flowers, smiling. “Here we have Peruvian heliotrope. It signifies unwavering devotion.”

He held it out to her, and she took it without a word. He continued on, not missing a beat. The next thing he held was not a flower at all—but he was quick to explain. “Cedar leaf,” he said. “Perhaps not a flower like the others, but it expresses the proper messages. I… I live for thee.” 

There was a tone in his voice that had changed dramatically from when he was simply giving her explanations. A distinct shift that made it hard for her to breathe. One that made her hand feel like it was burning where his fingers brushed against his as he handed her the leaf. 

“Everlasting,” he named, holding a bright burst of yellow and orange petals, “Never-ceasing remembrance.” 

It was added to her growing bouquet. 

He picked up the final flower she saw, a lovely little pink thing, taking the shape of a ball. “Globe amaranth. It has two meanings. Immortality, for the first. But the one I’d like to emphasis is unfading love.”

She sucked in a breath. The petals shook a bit, resulting from his trembling hand. Before he handed it to her, he reached behind him, pulling out a flower that he had let lay concealed there. 

“You’ll recognize this one,” he said softly. She did. The flower he had given her on that very first lesson—the one he told her she’d learn about in due time. It seemed that the time had come. “Honey flower. Love sweet and secret.” 

He felt the same. He had this entire time. He’d sat with her, day after day of studying and laughing, all the while letting his heart beat for her. It filled with with a joy she had never known—one she was determined to never let go off. 

She looked up at his face, jaw tense, and she realized her silence at his confession must be excruciating. She reached forward, taking the flowers from his hands and adding it to her perfect collection before setting it aside. “You mean it, Ominis?” she asked, hoping she had not taken this all ridiculously out of turn. It was relief when he answered in a quiet voice. 

“Every word.” 

She grinned, taking one of his hands in her own before reaching for the pocket of her robe. The flower was still intact—a small miracle she was glad had occurred. “You’ve been an absolutely amazing teacher,” she said, guiding his hand to take the tulip. He wrapped his fingers around it, brows furrowing. “For one, I now know how important colors are when it comes to deciphering meanings.”  She leaned closer, voice coming out as almost a whisper. “I’ve brought another tulip for you. But this one is red.” 

His face lit up in an instant, lips reaching up to spread into the most beautiful smile. The flower was set aside, for his hands found something much more important to do. He placed them on either side of her face, fingers tracing over her cheeks. She held his wrists, letting him lead her closer and closer, until there was no distance left at all. 

The breeze blew softly over them, carrying the floral scent with it. She’d love that smell for the rest of her life, she was sure—because it would always remind her of the way his lips felt on hers. 

[artzychic27]

Tell me this doesn’t scream Akuma Class Energy

Caline Bustier’s Rules For Taking Care Of Her Students

If Marinette, Max, and Nathaniel stayed up late working on design/tech/art projects, you are to give them a shot of coffee. Just enough to stay up during class, but not too much to cause anarchy and make it everyone else’s problem

Do not touch Nino’s headphones. If he has a day where he wants to block out the rest of the world and you take his headphones, Alya, Adrien, Kim, and Marinette will make it your problem

There are to be fifteen stim toys in the classroom at all times. FIFTEEN

Do not scream, yell, or play music too loudly around Myléne

The words ‘Unexceptional,’ ‘Stupid,’ ‘Worthless,’ and ‘Disappointment’ are not allowed to be said in the classroom

If Juleka mumbles, she mumbles. Do not even think about getting upset when she yells after you tell her to raise her voice

Monopoly is forbidden, whether in board game or app form. If they insist on playing it, they must have adult supervision. No, M. Monlataing is not adult supervision

Nathaniel is allowed to draw during lessons. That is how he takes notes, and if you take away his note-taking sketchbook, Alix, Juleka, Rose, Marinette, and Marc will follow you home. In addition, there must be visuals when presenting PowerPoints. Some students (Nathaniel for example) are visual learners

Marinette, Chloé, and Lila are not to be left alone together for more than two minutes

Kim is not allowed to go downstairs by himself

Alya is not allowed to go out and record Akuma battles that happen during school hours, lunch, or study hall

Do not send Nathaniel alone to grab extra supplies without some form of supervision. Alix does not count as supervision

Adrien is allowed to eat during class whenever he feels like it

If Rose asks to see the nurse, you let her go

If you are sending any of the girls out of the classroom between 10:00am and 10:15am, make sure Ivan and Kim accompany them

If Adrien and Marinette need to leave during an Akuma attack during schools hours, let them leave, no questions asked

If you’re one of those dress code nuts, Alya cannot help her natural curves, and you have no place to to call her out in the middle of class and claim that her curves are a distraction

If any of them are having a panic attack in the bathroom, screw gender and let their opposite sex friend or significant other help them

If Nathaniel starts yelling in Yiddish, don’t bother or interrupt him. Just don’t.

Spiders are not allowed in the classroom, and do not show images of spiders

Markov is sentient and therefore, shall be treated as a human. If you attempt to confiscate Markov, expect many angry family members

If Adrien sounds British, spray him with water

If Marc Anciel walks into the classroom saying Mme. Mendeleiev needs to speak to Nathaniel, do not let Nathaniel go with him

If Adrien gets called in the middle of a test for a photo shoot, do NOT let him go until he is done with his work. Actually, don’t let him leave during school hours, period

In addition to Rule 24, Nino has a binder with multiple incidents of Gabriel Agreste proving he is unfit to be a parent. If you witness Adrien being abused in any sort of way, please fill out one of the blank incident reports

@msweebyness @imsparky2002

[sugar-grigri]

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down

Guns, nails, katanas: I think it's interesting to read this title not just in terms of the chapter's construction, but as three notions serving the same idea, which is what we're going to develop. 

The chapter opens with the students, followers of the Church of Chainsaw Man, who don't really know what to do with their weapons. They weren't even aware that they had so many, which marks a continuity with the last chapter, when Nobana wasn't even aware that there were weapons.

Their reaction becomes the opposite when their superior gives them a reason to interpret the weapons differently - they're no longer guns in the hands of children, but a continuation of Chainsaw Man's message and power.

I think that's an easy interpretation to have, but it's one worth establishing for the sequel. The guns are only a third part of the reasoning, after all. 

When the fiend arrives on the scene, it's also interesting the moment and the way they's cut off. Strangely enough, the fire doesn't start until they begins to suggest that children shouldn't be holding weapons, as if someone wanted to prevent them from provoking an awakening of conscience. All symbolic, of course. 

I insist on the fact that the response of the weapons is instantaneous because in French the line is well cut (I read both versions because sometimes it helps me to have a re-reading on certain lines and I perceive better the indicators notably on the tone… And yes, you missed the fiend saying Ouh Là Ouh Là Là… )

The fiend seems to have a strong desire to protect children. Which gives us an idea of the demon they might embody. A common trait that could be given to fiends is that they are beings (and I say this with all the love I bear them) intellectually limited or rather who have a way of reasoning that is more animal and demonic (logical, they are demons they embody) than human.

Whether it's Power, who only reasoned through the prism of domination, or Beam, who considered himself Chainsaw Man's pupil and follower, the possessed reason strictly through hierarchy, or rather through a kind of food chain, which is typically bestial. 

Seeing what looks like a fiend, or even a devil, reasoning in terms of child protection induces the idea that they must have something to do with these children to reason in such an abstract way as child protection. 

Especially as it's something they embodies rather than understands themself, since they remains demonic, bashing in the skull of a child they themself wanted to protect, but had spoken to wrongly, as if this "lesson" were also part of his upbringing. 

That's why I interpret this fiend as harboring the devil of studies. Which is logical? It's one of the main fears of young people in particular, whether it's the choice of direction, exams, or even because it's related to the future, studies are a subject of anxiety. 

Particularly in a Japanese system in which the costs of studying are considerable, with university rankings that can be quite anxiety-provoking for high-school students. 

That's why this fiend is so revolted by the sight of children with weapons, and nails them to walls rather than brutally killing them all.

Moods and compassion are not necessarily inherent concepts in the fiends, even if they are capable of them, as we saw with Power.

But then again, if Power changed her behavior, it was only with regard to Denji and Aki, because they were part of her pack and her entourage, just like Meowy.

Sacrificing herself for Denji, even if she did in the end, was by no means obvious, hence the fact that there were several pages before her second death where she considered two options: her survival by helping Makima and her certain death to protect her brother. 

That's why the fiend's words are so strange and put me on the trail of the study demon.

Skull-hammering, or being overloaded with information and knowledge to be accumulated, is symbolized by this protruding brain. 

In the same way, the fact that the demon possessed has no eyes symbolizes the school system, whose aim is to develop students without actually seeing them. 

I was thinking about the hammer, but the title indicates that it's the nails we should be thinking about.

Hence the title of this analysis, which takes up a famous saying :

The nail that sticks out gets hammered down

Obviously, this saying alone cannot reflect the complexity of Japanese society, which is sometimes even used as a caricature by the Western media. 

Nevertheless, without falling into caricature, it symbolizes a simple idea: Japanese society, unlike Western society, puts the collective before the individual. 

This doesn't mean that the individual is completely erased, but that he is encouraged to consider his behavior from a more global angle, one that transcends himself. 

It's simply a saying that can be understood as advice: if you step out of line, you can expect to encounter more difficulties.

This is as true for a Japanese society as it is for a Western one. I'm not establishing any hierarchy of values.

Hence the nails, which freeze individuals where they belong. 

That's why this possessed person has an aversion to seeing students with guns: it's not just for protection, it's also for compartmentalization. Society doesn't give students the role of assailants; their role is to have a criterion in their hands. 

We continue with this superior, who also happens to be possessed by the demon of justice. His posture is not only interesting in that it's a completely instrumentalized justice in the sense that it puts children in danger for a better purpose, but it's above all the thesis of necessary evil, i.e. fighting evil with evil. 

If human morality were to be summed up, it would be through this maxim: preventing wars with wars, protecting like Chainsaw Man while endangering students - that's the whole human contradiction.

So, of course, the fiend find him vain when he argues that he is the best incarnation of justice.

It's typical of man to imagine himself superior to other species. 

We end on Katana, who arrives with a cutaway (which I loved) to declare that there's no justice with Chainsaw Man. 

So, in one line, we put back in place all the originality of this character, and I find it incredible. 

This line is both true and ironic!

True, because Chainsaw Man humiliated him by killing his grandfather, winning against him and beating his private parts with Aki to avenge Himeno. 

But above all, Katana Man has been brought up among the Yakuza, who he believes are governed by the same principles as his grandfather, to the point where he firmly clings to this position.

Katana Man hasn't evolved at all on this issue .

Ironic, given that Katana Man's grandfather was Denji's debt collector, the man who ended up ordering the overindebtedness and dismemberment of a child.

Indeed, Denji has no idea what justice is, for his life is profoundly unjust, whether it's being indebted for his father's misdeeds or dying prematurely. 

Above all, he doesn't take justice into his own hands; Denji didn't take revenge on Aki and Power with Makima, he saved her, just as he pursues his own personal goals of killing demons; they don't slaughter demons to bring justice to all those unjust deaths, he fights because they turn him on, he's an instrument, not a vigilante. 

What the chapter speaks to in these three themes is the whole paradox of protection, whether it's seeking justice through the church by sending children as gunpowder.

Whether it's trying to protect these children by enclosing them in a school system.

Whether it's protecting ideals that are unfounded. 

Once again we follow the analysis of the last time, public hunters choose weapons or possessions that limit the damage to the teenagers who constitute the nation's precious asset. The church uses children as a kind of barrier, not because they think they're good soldiers, but because they're moral barriers. So they send a possessed man convinced that he's protecting the children.

Or a weapon who thinks he still has a man's heart.

It's not just a clash between the two camps; it's also a battle for public approval.

Katana Man and Chainsaw Man are two sides of the same coin, the same story. While one has known a loving grandfather whom he loves so much that he closes himself off in denial (to the point of always refuting Denji's version that he murdered his grandfather as a zombie, even though the only legacy he left him was a zombie weapon), the other has known the monster and has therefore not internalized concepts such as love, compassion or justice.

Katana Man is a weapon who has been instrumentalized by the Yakuza, and is still deluding himself to find meaning in his existence, while Denji is one of the few weapons living strictly for himself at the moment.

He's the only one who truly follows his heart !

[zengle56]

Chocolate Covered Strawberries

Summary: George has been away for a week and is needy when he finally comes back

Warnings: Smut, p in v (wrap it before you tap it), oral m receiving, insemination? lmao

a/n: thank you so much to hahahafucku for my very first request, I hope this is somewhat what you wanted. this isn't proofread so ignore if there are any misspelled words. i hope you enjoy!

The day with your boyfriend had started out just like any other. You sluggishly trudged to Potions with that cruel Snape first thing in the morning. You particularly hated the class due to being sat next to McLaggen and his nonstop talk about Quidditch which effectively lost you 5 house points every single class with his non-stop chatter. Then, to Transfiguration 2 with McGonagall, not being your worst time of day, having your boyfriend's twin to keep you entertained but not your favorite. Then finally DADA with Mad-Eye, your last dreadful class before lunch. 

After a long work-filled lesson about how to kill wizards and witches alike with 5 different types of poisons that will give you a variety of horrid blemishes and boils covering your entire body - you waited patiently outside the class for George to come pick you up. Today you were particularly excited to see him due to the fact that he had been away with his family for about a week, his aunt Pennywhist had passed and his mother insisted on all of her children being there to attend the funeral and grieve. The only peculiar thing was that George said he had never even met his late aunt and noted that he would probably fall asleep during her service. 

You wrung your hands together, peeking at your watch as you waited for him, growing more impatient by the minute. 

“Oh come on, where is that boy?” You asked yourself, sighing feeling forgotten. 

“You mean this boy?” A voice from behind asked as you felt the warm pressure of a hand being pressed against the small of your back. Instant butterflies filled your stomach as his deep voice rang in your ears. Without another word or hesitation you turned around to hug him. Your arms stretched around his thin middle and you squeezed harder than you ever have.

“Don’t you ever do that to me again, I don’t think we can be apart for that long.” You complained, your face against his white dress shirt missing the required house tie around his neck. He chuckled, his chest effectively bouncing you around as he did so.

“I don’t think so either love, I missed you too much, besides, it was far too boring without my little troublemaker.” You rolled your eyes pulling back from his chest and smirked at his untrue words.

“No I think you have it twisted, you’re the troublemaker and I’m an angel.” You batted your eyelashes at him.

“Well there's no doubt about you being an angel.” He smiles softly. The DADA door swung open causing you both to jump, you unintentionally slamming into his body causing a burn to fall over both of your cheeks. He groaned a bit and you had no idea why, guessing that maybe you stepped onto his toe.

“Well get on, it’s time to get to lunch if you want to eat.” A large Mad-Eye grumbled, his large cane slamming into the ground with each step he took.

You both silently took that as a cue to get on walking to the Great Hall for a long awaited lunch together. You had so many butterflies you nibbled your sandwich, afraid of not being able to stomach big bites. George constantly kept a long arm over your shoulder, pulling you into him just enough to be close together but not too tightly as to restrict either of you from eating. You both are in comfortable silence, well silence between the two of you. The Great Hall rang with voices of students of all ages but your main focus was on the bickering Hermione and Ron in front of you. 

“Ronald, you can’t just keep relying on me for the answers in Divination!” She slammed her cup harshly, clearly fed up with his cheating ways.

“But Mione, think about it this way, if you help me with the work, we’ll be able to graduate together and stay together.” Ron argued. The couple surprisingly never argued as much as they had while they were still only friends but when they did it got unnecessarily heated at times. 

“Shall we go, my love?” A low voice whispered in your ear, once again instantly filling your tummy with butterflies. Nodding, you grabbed your bag, swung it around your neck, waited for George to do the same, and made your exit from the noisy room hand in hand. 

George led you into his empty dorm, it looked just as it did as the time you’d been in before just a few weeks ago. The air wasn’t stale as you had feared but comfortable, lived in. It made you feel as you did at the burrow, at home. 

“Oh! Before I forget, mum had given me a gift to give to you, it’s from her and dad.” He said, letting go of your hand and kneeling down to scrimmage through his trunk. Walking over to sit on the edge of his bed, your hand smoothing out the quilt Molly had made for his Christmas one year, you heard an audible ‘Aha’! And smiled while turning to look at George holding a small light blue box. 

“For my love.” He presented the box as if you were a queen, bowing down his head with his arms outstretched humorously. Delicately taking it from his hands, you set it down in your lap and opened the top, revealing four strawberries covered in a lilac purple chocolate, probably bewitched not to melt, an educated guess due to them being buried in the bottom of George’s trunk.

“They’re beautiful.” You smiled, appreciating the gift. 

“Mum made them for the service but later made an extra batch just for you.” He replied, getting off the floor and sitting next to you. The close proximity and the alone environment instantly gave you butterflies again but not just in your tummy, in between your thighs as well. Being apart from him certainly didn’t help the circumstances but they did give you power, in fact, they gave you an idea.

Slowly reaching into the box, you grabbed one of the strawberries in your fingertips and stared directly at it, taking your time licking your lips before bringing it to your mouth, purposefully smearing some of the melted purple goo on your lips before taking a bite. You chewed with purpose and stuck your tongue out slightly to lick the chocolate from your lips. You could see George intently watching you from the corner of your eye, a tent forming in his pants no doubt.

“Mmm it’s so good.” You practically moaned. “Want some?” you offered, finally making eye-contact with your love who was falling apart at the sight of you. He nodded vigorously before you put one of your hands on his thigh, an instant jump coming from your boyfriend. Your eyebrow instantly cocked, surprised at the sensitivity of your touch. “Sensitive?” You asked, watching as goosebumps raised upon his neck and into his shoulder line beneath his shirt. 

“It was so hard being away from you.” He mumbled as you bit into half of a strawberry, holding the sweet chocolate covered fruit between your teeth. Leaning forward with intention, he touched his lips to yours, biting into the strawberry and pulling back, chewing as the sweetness of the purple chocolate melted over his warm tongue. 

“What’s been so hard?’ you questioned with a smirk, ‘this?” Your hand moved to the growing tent between his legs and immediately a quiet accidental whimper fell from his lips. 

You smiled mischievously, knowing full well of the power you hold over him. As much as you wanted to resist, you were just as touch starved as George and you needed to feel the relief of an amazing orgasm you knew he’d be able to provide you. Unable to hold back any longer, you fell to your knees off of the bed and unbuckled his belt, rushing to unzip his zipper and pulling his pants and underwear down to his ankles. 

His hard cock sprang against his stomach, his tip angry and red and already leaking precum. Licking your lips, you grabbed the base and smacked his tip against your lips a few times, strings of the sticky precum trailing from his tip. His body shuttered, eyes rolled to the back of his head while one of his hands shot to the back of your head, grabbing a handful of your hair actively pushing your head up and down. You hid your teeth so as not to scratch him, opening your throat to the best of your abilities while he forced you down. You gagged a few times, needing to pull off for a second or two before resuming again, getting seemingly deeper and deeper each time. As the minutes passed, your face was coated with your slobber and his precum, lubing him effectively before you decided enough was enough and you needed him, badly.

“On your back pretty boy,” you say as you push his chest down before stripping off your clothes that seemed way too constricting. Leaving your soaked panties for last, you threw them in his face, him grabbing them with his teeth in turn. He groaned at the taste of your wetness soaking his tongue and his cock perked up as he tasted. 

Crawling up his body he reached up to grab your breast that hung in front of his face and feeling generous, you didn’t stop him or make him ask as you usually would. He pinched and pulled your tender nipples causing moans to spill from your puffy lips - they had swelled while sucking your boyfriend's soul from his cock. 

“Want you on my cock” he whimpered, carelessly throwing his head back and blinking his eyes rapidly. You flushed at his words but tried your very best to show nothing but confidence and dominance.

“You want me to slam my wet pussy down on your cock?” 

“Mmm” was all he could muster out before you complied to his request and sunk your hips down onto his and felt his well-endowed cock fill your hole until it hit your cervix. It painfully stung but you continued on, lowering until you were fully sitting on his erect dick. Using all of your leg strength, you slowly began bouncing yourself up and down, feeling every inch of him filling you with expertise. His hands still pinching your nipples, you felt both of your breaths speeding up, hinting that you were both close to your climaxes. 

“Oh fuck Georgie, fill me up.” You moaned and he lowered his hands down to your hips holding them in place while his hips quickly fucked into you, quickly switching your dominance to himself. As he fucked, your skin slapped together, the sound filling the room as well as the bed squeaking.

“I’m gonna-”

“Cum for me Georgie, cum inside my little pussy” you practically scream as he gives a few more fast pumps before cumming deep inside of you, soaking the outside of your cervix with his white sticky ropes. The feeling of his hot cum filling your insides made your hand that had moved to your clit move that much faster, inducing your very own orgasm that you had been longing for. As you both caught your breath, you lifted yourself off of his now limp cock that fell shriveled against his pelvic bone while you laid beside him.

“I didn’t realize how starved you really were.” You sighed as you finally caught your breath, an irremovable grin caught on your lips. 

“What can I say, I can’t go that long without my angel.” He charmed you with his words and grabbed your face to bring you in for a kiss.

“But no really, don’t ever be gone for that long again.” You say as you grabbed his face pulling away from his intense kiss.

“Ha, I wasn’t planning on it.” He assured, running his hand down your stomach. “Anyways, round two?”

[kichiyosh1]

Deceitful Youth: "III - Eyes on you, always"

< previous | Masterlist | next >

The ringing of the bell echoed throughout the school's hallways, alongside it are the sounds of shoes swiftly coming into contact with the marbled floors. Quickly turning corners and going up stairs, you finally made it to your destination. Panting heavily, the both of you took a moment to let air into your lungs. You didn't even notice you were still holding hands with the new girl when you knocked on the door with your other hand.

After giving the two of you a questioning look through the small screen glass on the door, the teacher let you in shortly. Her expression quickly changed after registering the presence of the person you brought with you. "I see you took it upon yourself to bring in the new student. You really are such a hard worker, y/n." You were quick to dismiss what she said, a little embarrassed by the compliment and a little guilty since you only happened to bring the new girl here by coincidence after bumping into her.

"Really mrs. ningguang, I don't deserve to be called such after arriving late like this, it's unbefitting of me."

"Alright, alright. Best you take your seat now so we can begin the lesson. Oh, but have your friend here introduce herself first to the class, please." You nod your head. Turning to your friend, you felt how her hand slightly clenched yours, an unreadable expression on her face.

Introductions were unnecessary, It's not like he came here to make friends with a bunch of nobodies anyways, but the caress of your touch, both of your hands now clasping his. It surprised him, and the determined look on your face said he had nothing to worry about.

"No worries! if you end up getting scared then just focus your attention on me, it'll be easier and less overwhelming." You gave her a smile before completely letting go of her hand and heading to your seat. Good thing you did because if he was in your presence any longer he'd have surely fainted on the spot. Red quickly brought color to his face, as he could only sheepishly smile.

This was the [y/n] that had helped him in the past. The same girl that insisted on staying by his side even when others had disregarded him. The thought of you alone was more than enough to sooth him. You took away his pain, gave him a new meaning to what he wanted to be with you

But you also caused it when you decided to transfer here.

'focus my attention on you, huh?' He was already standing in front of the class 'I'll make you crave it', the room's gone silent. A few of them still whispering among themselves, but she didn't pay them any mind since her sights were already set on you.

"The name's Scara—" (Using his real name was far too risky. In the past you were one of the only few that he allowed to call him by his real name, Kunikuzushi. He'd prefer if people called him by the new name he made up for himself, but you didn't know that.)

He said a few more things, throwing in some random hobbies and ambitions all while maintaining that sweet voice, but what he said last had you holding in a laugh.

"Oh, and I'm not into guys."

The bell rang to indicate it was finally time for recess. You could hardly keep your hand steady to fit your coin into the vending machine, still thinking about how scara ended her introduction. "What was that about? Not gonna lie but it kind of caught me off guard." A soft laugh escaped your lips, the coin finally slotted in and your favourite snack fell out.

"I don't see what's so funny." He was able to calm down his previous elation from meeting you. Finding it natural to hold a conversation with you now.

"I guess that's just something I wouldn't expect coming from a pretty girl like you, you know?" You said it so calmly while opening your bag of food, you weren't able to notice how red Scara got again. Were compliments this easy to give and receive between girls? He could hardly keep his composer, but inside he's feasting on any positive comment you send his way.

"I dislike people in general, but guys are just the worst." he said it in such a sickening tone but his face stayed neutral, giving you a glance before the clink of the vending machine sounded. He was trying to see based on your reaction how comfortable you were with the topic. Did you perhaps have a change of mind? Was it still necessary for him to keep up this facade? Did you still look at guys with that same amount of discomfort and disgust your mother had?

You pondered for a moment, before a single chuckle left your lips.

"Yeah, guys are just the worst."

You started munching on your food, brows furrowed as you made your way back to the classroom. "Dthey jusht can't vbe chtrusted!" your words were barely audible as you continued to angrily speak your mind. Not that He minded, Scara seemed more focused on the sound of your voice. He hasn't heard it properly in so long (even now when you're talking with your mouth full, but that's besides the point), and even back then, the sound of your classmates and the background noise of your previous school grating his ears. You were actually talking to him, the nostalgic feeling bringing a contented smile to his face.

It was just like back then when you first approached him. You didn't have trouble speaking your mind before you started to distance yourself. The empty feeling in his chest started to fester, to the point that not a minute, not even a second goes by that he's not thinking about you. That he's not imagining the warmth of your first hug. That he's not dreaming of you and him together.

He was scared, that one day you'll disappear for good and all he's left with is the faint image of you and the past memories you shared. So he made sure to watch over you whenever he could. Slipping extra money into your bag whenever he'd hear you complain you didn't have enough on you, (in exchange he'd take one or two of your hair ties). Scaring off any guys that would linger near you locker (so that he could slip in some of the love letters he wrote.) Following you around to make sure you got home safely ( snapping a few pictures whenever he could).

He did all those things out of love, because he cared for you. There are times he wished you'd notice him, how much he's doing for you that it actually starts to hurt. He just wants you to look at him again, the same way you did back when you were younger, more innocent.

But he's afraid. Afraid you'd look at him the same way you looked at other men. Having your eyes on him, only for you to scrunch your eyebrows and morph your face into a look of disgust. It feels too cold, too cruel it has him shivering. He looks at you with so much love and adoration, and not once has he given you such a hateful gaze. So until now that was the extent of it all. Hand reached out but never enough to reach you, as if afraid to hurt you, but more terrified to hurt himself.

The sound of fingers being snapped slowly started to fade in. "Hellooo, Scara? You were spacing out just now." You looked pretty worried, but Scara dismissed it by giving you a genuine smile. 'Good to know you still cared'

"I'm fine. We should hurry though, don't want to be late again, right?" He already took hold of your hand, giggling to himself while you gave him a confused look, but nonetheless smiled along.

He liked that look on your face. He hopes that one day you'd look at the real him that way, but right now this was enough. You were finally looking at him again, and he's able to look at you without being scared that you'd leave. He'll make sure to keep a close eye on you. He won't tear his gaze off you so easily this time.

━━━━

Taglist!

@r0ttenhearts @kazuuhhaaaa @ahseya @reirea-002 @silaswritesthings @scaraapologist @magica-ren @sketcheeee @dan9a-00 @bdf2 @tearsin @randomnl @xinhar @after-determination-tale @valeriele3 @serossidechick @worldhardtibbysoft @darkxrain @cloudycloudd @lazy-sanns @scara-alzwari @silly-ez @featuredtofu @st4rcheese @scara-obsessed @reisinnie @sky-angel101 @layla240

[hawkinsmethlab]

Dustin is quiet on the ride to his house.

Unusual, but nothing unheard of, especially when he’s thinking hard about something. From what Steve had been able to pick up before he’d dropped off Mike and Lucas, there’s a lot going on in the Dumpsters and Dangers department.

Steve is half-tempted to ask him about it, even though he won’t understand a single word, just to see Dustin get excited about something. Not that he’d ever admit it to the kid’s face, but he’s missed him a bit. Ever since he started up Hellfire it’s been “Eddie this” and “Eddie that.” Give him a break.

But, it’s a bad listening day, and Steve’s really just trying to hear the commercial on the radio over the sharp ringing in his right ear. It’s one that plays a million times a day and he knows it by heart at this point, but that kind of makes it worse. Just means he knows when he’s missing a word or a sound effect.

But it’s fine. He’s handling it. The constant ringing used to make him feel like he was going insane, especially on bad days like this where it’s like a physical presence in his head that leaves him feeling lopsided, like the Upside Down itself is pulling on him. Coming and going in piercing waves that block out any other noise, no matter how loud or how close.

Robin thinks it’s a problem.

“I’m dealing with it,” he’d told her, both of them on her bed with her history textbook in his lap. She had a test on Monday and sure, Steve wasn’t the best student, but he’d helped Nancy study a million times.

“Sure,” Robin said. “Except that you aren’t. You’re avoiding it, and those are two very different things. Do I need to pull out my dictionary and beat you over the head with it?”

“Which one, you have like, seven in here.”

“Maybe we can try them all just to see what sticks.” Then, she’d folded herself over the edge of her bed to rummage around in her bag. “But also, I was just thinking, maybe we could give this a try?”

She handed him a folded up piece of paper, biting her lip. Steve took it, skeptical, and unfolded it to see a poster for the Bloomington community center that read American Sign Language Lessons.

At Steve’s extended silence of like, a second, she continued, “I thought we could do it together. For fun. Really up our trash talk game.”

Steve had just stared at it, dread settling low in his stomach like a sack of rocks. He dropped the poster on the bed. “Thanks, but neither of us are deaf. We don’t need it.”

She’d sighed. “Steve--”

“‘In which battle was Napoleon defeated?’”

“Waterloo, easy, but listen to me. ASL isn’t just for deaf people. Besides, you don’t have to wait until you can’t hear anything at all to start learning. I mean, you could, that’s the whole point of the language, but I don’t think you would handle it very well.”

“Rude.”

“I’m just saying.” She rolled her eyes. “Maybe we could even get some of the kids into it. I bet Dustin would--”

“No, Robin.” It came out a bit more harsh than he’d meant it, a little scared and he hated that. He crossed his arms just in case his hands decided to start shaking. “Just. Can we drop it?”

Robin, being Robin and he loved her for it but Jesus, leaned forward on her elbows. Steve raised his legs a little to hide the textbook. He wouldn’t put it past her to use this as some kind of con to cheat. Not that she needed to, she’s a genius.

“Steve,” she said, “you can’t just not tell them forever. Eventually, one of them is going to figure it out, and I don’t know about you, but I’d rather tell somebody something like that on my own terms.”

“I’m not not telling them,” he insisted. “It just hasn’t come up.”

“In five months? Or no, you said Billy is when it got really bad and that was a year ago. There hasn’t been a single moment in all that time where someone hasn’t noticed something different?”

Sure they had. A few different times. But, he’d always been kind of air headed and spacey, even before his concussions so it was easy enough for them to just brush it off as Steve being Steve. “I thought I was here to help you study.”

Robin looked at him like he was one of her crossword puzzles. “I’m just trying to understand why you told me and no one else. That’s all.”

“That’s...different.”

What did she want him to say? That to tell her had been one of the scariest moments of his life, had made him miss the demodog-infested tunnels, had made him feel like he needed a bat in his hands? That saying it, any of it, out loud had left him feeling like he needed to hurl? That the thought of telling anyone else who wasn’t her, as wild as that was for someone he’d met six and a half months ago, left him on the edge of a fucking panic attack?

Yeah, sure, he’d get right on that.

Robin stared at him a little longer before she leaned back, the fight gone. “Fine.” She reached over and grabbed the poster, folded it back up and put it back in her bag. “Just promise me you’ll give it some thought? Even just a little?”

“Scout’s honor.” He held up his hand.

“You were never a scout. And that’s the wrong hand.”

“I went to summer camp that one time!”

“That’s not the boy scouts, Steve!”

It’s been three days since then, and as much as he would like to forget about the whole thing, he’s been kind of agonizing over it. Over what Robin had said, about them figuring it out on their own. Would that be better? Worse?

Either option leaves a bad taste in his mouth. Makes him want to dig Billy up from his grave just to put him back in it. Him and those fucking Russians.

There’s a slap on his arm. “Steve!” Dustin’s glaring at him. “Jesus, finally. You just passed my house.”

Oh. Whoops. “My bad.” He pulls into a random driveway to turn around. “Don’t have to shout, man, car’s only so big.”

“I said your name like six times.”

Steve sighs and wishes for about the millionth time that his tinny-whatever-Owens-had-called-it had a dial so he could turn it down. Or off, really, that’d be great. “Sorry, I guess I’m a little distracted. Some--work thing that Keith’s on my ass about.”

He pulls up in front of Dustin’s house and debates getting out. On any other day he’d be happy to walk him to the door and talk to Mrs. Henderson, but that usually leads to her inviting (or ordering) him to stay for dinner, and while his stomach is more than on board for whatever she’s whipped up, his head has the louder argument.

“Alright, man,” he says and cuts off the radio. “I’ll see you later.”

Dustin doesn’t move. He’s got his backpack on his lap and a loose grip on the door handle, but that’s it. He almost looks...nervous?

He doesn’t think he’s ever seen Dustin nervous before.

“What’s up?” Steve asks. “Your mom pissed at you or something?”

Dustin scoffs. “Please, I’m an angel.”

“Only in her eyes. Come on, what’s bugging you? Something one of the guys said? A kid at school? Some sort of mathematical nerd thing that’s got you stumped?” He gasps. “It’s not Suzie, is it, I swear to god--”

Dustin looks almost scandalized at that. “No. What? No. Nothing like that. I’m just--” He’s suddenly back to nervous. He starts picking at the zipper on his backpack, takes his hand off the door. “I’m just not sure how to--”

After a few more seconds of stuttering silence, Steve rolls his eyes. “Dustin, just spit it out. Whatever it is, you can talk to me. I mean, I can’t promise how helpful talking to me will be, with all the stuff you guys get up to but hey, I can at least try, right?”

Dustin sighs and turns in his seat to face Steve more fully. He seems to steel himself before saying, “Okay. I just want to say, before we move forward, that I’m not mad.”

Oh. Not exactly what he was expecting. “...Okay? I’m not either.”

“And I still think you’re cool or whatever, and we’ll still be friends no matter what.”

Steve nods, completely lost. “Right.”

“Because society can say whatever the fuck it wants!” Dustin is yelling suddenly. “And they can go on and on about the bible and whatever the hell Reagan is talking about, but you’re my friend, dammit! You’re my friend!”

“Whoa, Dustin!” Steve raises his hands, both to calm him down and maybe to protect himself a little. “What the hell are you talking about?”

Dustin takes a deep breath. “I’m talking about how you’re--” He looks around, as if they weren’t alone in the car, then whispers, “About how you’re gay.”

Steve blinks, slowly. There was no way he heard that right. Right? “You think I’m what?”

“I know,” Dustin says. He puts a hand on Steve’s shoulder in what he assumes is supposed to be comforting. “I know that you’re gay and I just want to tell you that it’s okay. There’s nothing wrong with it.”

Steve leans back and stares at him. Dustin leans with him, keeping his hand on Steve’s shoulder. “I’m not gay.”

“You don’t have to hide from me anymore,” he says. “I love you, you’re my friend, one of my best friends, and nothing is gonna change that.”

“Well, that’s great and I appreciate it, but I’m still not gay.”

“Yes.” Dustin nods solemnly. “You are.”

Steve laughs. A short one, like a gunshot, and pinches the bridge of his nose. When Robin had told him about people drawing their own conclusions, she probably hadn’t imagined something like this. God, he can’t ever tell her about this. “Oh my god. Okay. What, uh, what gave me away?”

“Well, really, you shouldn’t feel too bad. I don’t think anyone else has noticed.”

“Hmm.”

“But you’ve just been kind of out of it lately. Distracted more, like right now, driving me home, or when we watch movies. Don’t think I didn’t see you staring at Harrison Ford. Raiders of the Lost Ark and Star Wars, dude.”

“Now hold on, that’s not--”

“And then, back at Thanksgiving, when my mom was telling you that story about me and Suzie and you just looked so uncomfortable--”

Because Steve hadn’t had a single clue what she was talking about.

“--plus, I’ve seen the way you look at Eddie so--”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, wait.” Steve scoffs. “How I look at Munson? The Freak.”

“Well, yeah, it’s like you’re being tortured or something.” He shrugs. “It’s kind of romantic, honestly.”

Jesus Christ. “Okay. Wow.” This is worse than every Upside Down encounter combined. “Dustin, I will repeat: I am not gay. There’s an explanation for all of those things, but it doesn’t involve my sexuality in any way. Got it?”

Dustin raises an eyebrow, totally not believing him. Finally, he leans back. Crosses his arms. “Alright then, I’m listening.”

Whenever he did let himself picture how telling one of the kids would go, this hadn’t been what he’d imagined. But really, this has already gone so terribly, so how could it possibly get worse?

(Dustin could look at him like he’s broken, like he doesn’t recognize him, could tell him that he doesn’t trust Steve to watch his back, could start treating him differently or avoiding him, he’s already hanging out with Munson more, why not just abandon him altogether--)

“Alright.” He runs a hand through his hair before settling it on the bottom of the wheel, gripping it so tight his knuckles go sheet white. “So. Yeah, I’ve been distracted and not...listening as well.”

“Because you’ve been thinking about--”

“Nope!” Steve closes his eyes. Deep breaths and quick prayer to not kill a child. “It’s because I literally can’t listen as well as I used to. I--I have hearing loss.”

His second time saying it out loud to another person and it’s met with a similar kind of gut-turning silence. Steve watches Dustin’s face go through several rapid changes before settling on something confused, his mouth slightly open and his eyebrows low.

“Oh.”

Then he looks mad.

“You have what? Dude!” He starts slapping Steve across his arm. “Since when?”

“Since--Jesus, man, stop! Since the mall fire, okay?”

Dustin freezes and Steve does too, the guilt like ice in his chest. He looks at Dustin and knows he’s thinking about the elevator and the bunker and the sizzling of human flesh under a fucked up cattle prod. It had been a tough summer for all of them, but Steve won’t ever be able to forget how Dustin had sat next to him in his car, just like this, trembling when he told Steve about how he was having nightmares. About how he thinks he might have killed that guy, and what did that make him?

A hero, Steve had told him. You saved our lives.

“If I hadn’t--” Dustin starts.

“Cutting you off there, Henderson. This,” Steve waves a hand around his face, “is not your problem. Okay? It has nothing to do with you.”

Dustin looks so small then, so lost, and Steve feels his heart twist. He reaches over and ruffles his hair. “It’ll be okay. I can still hear out of my right ear, so I’ve got that going for me.”

Dustin frowns. “Does anyone else know?”

“Only you and Robin. I just...haven’t found the right time.”

“The right time being when? It’s been months. If we’d known, we could have helped you.”

Just like with Robin, he doesn’t have a good answer. Doesn’t really have any answer, and doesn’t know when he will. “I’ll get around to it. Sometime. But,” he locks eyes with Dustin, “you have to promise me you won’t tell anyone until I’m ready.”

“Steve--”

“Promise me, Dustin.” He stares him down. “I’m dead serious.”

Dustin sighs, but nods. “Alright.”

“On your mom’s life?”

Dustin recoils. “Dude, you’re bringing my mom into this?” Then, “Alright, fine, I swear on my mother’s life. Cross my heart and hope to die and all that shit, I won’t tell a soul.”

“Thanks.” Steve claps him on the shoulder. “Now get out.”

“Does Robin know you’re gay?”

“What?” Robin can never know about this conversation. “Dude, no, I’m not gay!”

“So you are dating Robin.”

“I’m not dating anyone! Definitely not Robin, and I don’t have any kind of crush on Munson or anyone else!”

“But I swear, the way you look at him--”

“I hate his guts, now get out or I’ll hold your hat hostage.”

With a proper amount of grumbling, Dustin manhandles his backpack and steps out. He goes to shut the door, but pauses. “You know, you saved my life too. I’ve got your back no matter what. Okay?”

His eyes sting, so he itches his nose. Clears his throat to make sure it won’t crack when he says, “Yeah, Dustin, I know. You too.”

The next second he’s gone and Steve, alone in his car, is left to think that maybe...ASL lessons might not be so bad.