#also I have already signed up for swimming classes

[mexashepot]

If someone told 23 yo me that I'd lose my job during a war when the market is in the worst place it's ever been and there are almost no available positions and that I'd be totally chill about it all while living on my own and paying rent I would have not believed you and would have asked you what drugs future me was using (even though drugs would be very ooc)

Granted, idk whether I'm chill af bc I'm too depressed to feel anything or because work got me so exhausted and burnt out that I am just happy I can relax a bit and try to get myself together or because I hope I get the unemployment aliments that I deserve by law but fuck knows whether I'll get them

but idk I have been chill for the (almost) past 2 weeks since I got fired and I'm grateful for that

[jnece-maharlika]

Amity parkers are feral and insane

-Gothamites.

Somehow, someway, Casper high finds their selves in Gotham.

It could be a field trip or a ghost shoved them in a portal, doesn't matter, they're in Gotham.

As they arrive in Gotham, the Casper teachers decide to turn this into something educational and hire a tour guide from Gotham Academy (or was it Gotham university? I forgot) GA agrees and also Sends some of their students to partner up with the amity parkers as a sort "buddy" and to hopefully teacher em the ways of surviving in Gotham.

To the gothamites, the amity parkers look like children who have never been exposed to crime in their life, never been mugged, never been been kidnapped.

But the truth is, compared to the BS amity is used to, Gothams issues are like kindergarten.

First thing the tour guide hears when she greets Casper high Mr lancer telling them to, "Please don't walk into danger, please don't try and provoke the joker, I know he's a bitch but still. If you find yourself in a tricky situation, do not hesitate to punch yourself to freedom, but ABSOLUTELY NO CRITICAL HITs these are NORMAL people they're not like us or the ghosts, they will not survive. Please do not give phantom problems, He's already failing in class he doesn't need more problems"

Its important to keep in mind that:

amity parkers and ghosts are buddies now.

The Ambient ectoplasm gave them a form of super strength, also making it so that they are able to touch ghost.

They join the ghost brawls everyone in a while and has some wins.

Most, if not all are liminal in a way.

Everyone knows that Danny is phantom but have signed an NDA that says they aren't allowed to tell anyone who isn't a native amity parker who he is.

Things is, The gothamites don't know about this and take it as if Mr lancer and the students are underestimating Gotham. So as a from of pettiness, all the Gotham students decided to bring their amity partner to the most dangerous places they can think of.

Niky has lead sam into a park that poison ivy frequents. Of course, poison ivy is there but instead of running away in fear like niky expected, Sam runs up to ivy, complements her and joins the path of eco terrorism.

Tucker and his partner Vic finds himself in the middle of a riddler attack, locked in a room with no way out, a countdown timer with 20 secs remaining and a riddle in a computer.

Vic is panicking as he tries to figure it out, he looked to tucker for help. Tucker just shrugged and hacked the computer, not even bothering to solve the riddle. It worked and Vic is baffled and the riddler is frustrated.

Danny find himself in the hands of the joker, (his partner ran the moment joker was seen) hanging upside down on top of a large pool of acid, because, it's classic for joker. He is also being live streamed.

The teachers in GA are panicking, the bats are panicking.

Casper high teacher took one look at the stream and shrugged. "Eh, he'll be fine." They also called the number that joker has displayed on the screen, just to say, "Daniel Fenton, make sure your back before in GA 6 pm or else were leaving you to find the hotel on your own."

The time is 5:30 pm.

It takes 25 minutes to walk from Joker to GA.

Danny sighs, might as well start walking.

He uses intangibility to free himself and fall into the vat of acid.

The Gothamites are shocked and screaming, the bats are shocked. Amity parkes went "oh" and continued placing bets on how fast Danny will get back.

Danny then proceeds to swim out of the acid pool, punch the joker in the face, knocking him out in a single hit and then proceeds to casually squeeze out the acid from his Casper high "I am a proud amitian" shirt as if it's regular water.

All of this was done in 5 minutes.

All of this was caught on stream.

The Gothamites are passed out, the bats are questioning everything. Batman is searching up everything he can about acid side effects and about Danny but ends up with nothing.

The amity parkers just raised their bets even further.

Danny somehow makes it back 10 minutes late and Wes wins the bet.

[hoshifighting]

seungkwan sporty college fling?? plss 🤭🫦

a/n: first of all— IUSHDIASUHIUNFIABDIASUDIUBFIUHE the fach that he's exactly my type makes me weak on the kneeeeees!! second: WITH THE PICS ALREADY? LOVE YOU! WARNINGS: smut, fluff, med student!reader who's interning in the university's infirmary, handjob, oral (m. receiving)

sporty college fling!seungkwan who's, like, everywhere on campus. if there’s a sport to play, you bet your ass he’s signed up. volleyball, tennis, soccer, basketball, swimming, god, even frisbee if it means he gets to be out there showing off. and, look, it’s not even about the attention—though he loves that, too. he just loves the energy, the cheers from the sidelines, the way he can walk off the field dripping sweat, grinning like he just won the damn lottery.

so when he catches wind that you’re interning in the college infirmary? oh, he’s already scheming. you had no idea he knew you were there, but seungkwan’s been keeping tabs on you ever since that one history class last semester, where he’d sit behind you just to crack dumb jokes and steal your notes when you weren’t looking. he’s been hovering on the edge of your radar ever since, some mix of a friend and a tease that’s always around, always a little too close, always making you laugh even when you’re trying to focus.

so of course, it’s not a coincidence that today he’s on the field, pulling a stunt in the middle of a perfectly normal soccer game. there’s a loud yelp, and before you know it, seungkwan’s got his ass on the ground, clutching his ankle like he’s been hit by a truck. dramatic doesn’t even cover it. a friend tries to help him up, but he waves them off like he’s gotta handle this himself.

“nah, nah, i need a professional,” he says, wincing like he’s in some world-class pain, all while side-eyeing the infirmary building. eventually, the whole team’s staring at him, and the coach—who’s definitely onto him, by the way—just sighs and gestures toward the infirmary.

“alright, go get checked out,” he grumbles, “and don’t make it a habit, boo.”

so in he limps, or, well, mostly fakes limping. you’re organizing the medicine cabinet when you hear him stumble in, and the second you turn around and see him putting on that pitiful, injured expression, you know something’s up.

“oh, my god,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “what happened this time, seungkwan?”

he sighs, laying it on thick. “soccer injury,” he says, wincing as he hobbles over to sit on the infirmary bed. “took a hard hit. they said only the best in here can take care of me.”

you roll your eyes, grabbing the ice pack and tossing it to him. “you know i can see through this bullshit, right?”

he smirks, barely able to keep up the act as he catches the ice pack and shrugs. “hey, i thought i’d at least get a little sympathy. i could be bleeding out, you know?”

“from your ankle? really?” you quip back, unable to stop the grin forming on your face. he shrugs and presses the ice pack to his ankle, looking around like he’s already scouting out what else he can mess with in here. it’s like he doesn’t even have to try—just exists, and it’s annoying but also kind of cute how he always manages to get away with it.

sporty college fling!seungkwan in those thin-ass shorts that they cling in all the right places, showing off his thick thighs, flexing calves, and the outline that has you looking anywhere but his lap whenever he walks into the infirmary. he’s got that sporty glow, a little sweat-slick, hair sticking to his forehead, flushed cheeks from running around, and that cocky smirk that’s always somewhere between friendly and downright dangerous.

so when you’re shrugging off your white coat, your tank top sticking a bit because the damn AC is broken, you catch him watching. his eyes go half-lidded, looking you up and down like you’re not a damn intern who’s just here to patch him up. he can’t even help it, a tiny little gulp as you reach back, trying to hold his knee steady while you clean up the latest scrape. and you lean over him—just a little closer to get a good angle—but the look on his face is downright sinful. he’s flushed deeper than ever, lips parted, eyes blown out like he’s somewhere far away from just a check-up.

and then you see it. oh, he’s really trying to keep it together, but that bulge is so obvious, so tight against the fabric of his shorts, it’s almost painful just looking at it. he’s shifting in place, his thighs pressing together, his hands gripping the edge of the bed, trying so damn hard to play it cool. trying being the keyword. you glance up, arching an eyebrow, giving him a once-over that has his face going from flushed to wrecked.

“you, uh… need help with anything else?” you murmur, voice dropping a bit, glancing between his lap and his face like it’s the most casual thing in the world.

he damn near chokes on his own breath, a helpless moan slipping out before he can stop it, his hips shifting forward as if he’s waiting for permission. and he spreads his legs wider, scooting to the edge of the bed, that smug smile barely peeking through as he bites his lip, knowing exactly what he’s about to ask for without saying a single word.

when you step forward and slip your hand between his legs, fingers skimming over the fabric, he lets out a broken sigh, tipping his head back with this blissed-out look that makes your heart pound.

sporty college fling!seungkwan whos losing his cool right in front of you, his little fantasy about to come true as you start to pull down those shorts, that look of relief as your hand wraps around him.

he’s biting his lip so hard it’s a wonder he doesn’t draw blood, trying to muffle the whimpers spilling out as you give him a few slow strokes, teasing just enough to make him squirm.

“fuck,” he hisses, pressing his palm tighter against his mouth, eyes wide as he glances toward the door like he’s expecting someone to walk in. you can’t help but chuckle softly; the thought of getting caught makes this whole thing even hotter. the university walls are so thin you can practically hear the whispers in the hallway, and seungkwan's face is a so desperate.

“c’mon, be quiet,” you tease, your voice low as you lean in a bit closer, brushing your thumb over the slick tip of his cock. it’s dripping now, and you can feel the pre-cum pooling in your hand, making it so easy to slide your fingers along his length. he whimpers again, muffling the sound with his hand, and it’s the kind of sweet, desperate noise that makes you want to do this forever.

“i can’t help it,” he whispers, trying to keep his voice down but failing miserably, and you can’t tell if he’s more embarrassed by how loud he is or by the way he’s getting even harder under your touch. you pick up the pace a bit, letting your fingers work him as his breath hitches, eyes rolling back just a little.

he clenches his eyes shut, the way he arches his back, trying to chase the pleasure.. his grip on his mouth tightens, and you can see the strain in his muscles, how he’s fighting against the urge to let it all out.

his gaze drops, catching on your fingers wrapped around him, nails perfectly manicured and glinting as they move, slow at first and then faster, like you’re testing just how much he can take. his eyes flick up, and the sight of your chest, bouncing with each stroke, almost sends him over the edge. it’s the kind of view he could lose himself in—is losing himself in—and he can’t look away, no matter how much he wants to keep his cool.

the slick, wet sound fills the small space, louder than his shaky breaths, louder than the little whimpers he’s trying so hard to hold back. his hips buck up, chasing the friction, and you can see him practically falling apart in your hand, his lip pulled between his teeth as he fights to stay quiet. it’s no use, though; his control is slipping, and he knows it.

“fuck—” he chokes out, voice breaking as his hand clamps over his mouth again, but his eyes stay glued to you, watching every single move you make. he swallows, pupils blown wide, his gaze flicking between your hand and your face. he looks like he’s about to burst any second.

the second your lips wrap around just the tip of his cock, seungkwan’s hands fly to his mouth, but it’s useless. the control he’d tried so hard to keep shatters instantly. a loud, ragged moan escapes, so reckless it could probably be heard down the hall, but he doesn’t care anymore.

“oh, fuck—no, wait, wait,” he gasp-whines, hands gripping the edge of the infirmary bed. his hips buck, but he’s melting under your touch, eyes rolling back as you swirl your tongue just around the head. its like his body’s got a mind of its own now, the pleasure overtaking everything else, every little shudder amplified. the quiet whimpers turn to full-on, desperate moans—he’s way past caring if anyone outside hears.

and then—before he can even manage a warning so you could take your mouth off him—his whole body tightens, and he’s coming, spilling over your tongue, a hot, sudden burst that has him gasping. his hand fly up, fingers digging into his own hair, breathless as he watches

he tries to collect himself. his legs feel weak, like he’s just finished sprinting through campus, but it’s way better than any game high. his legs are trembling, knees wobbling as he hops off the bed, trying to look at least half put-together while he straightens his shorts. but one look at your smirk, and he’s got that shy, red-faced grin back, a little embarrassed.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who keeps sneaking into the infirmary for a “checkup” every chance he gets, especially after practice, because, according to him, “gotta make sure i’m in top shape, right?”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who starts showing up with snacks for you after practice—sweaty, still in his shorts and jersey, claiming they’re for you so “you don’t have to eat that vending machine crap all day.”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who eventually works up the courage to pull you into a storage room between rounds, pushing you against a shelf with that smirk of his, whispering, “you didn’t think i forgot about how good you looked last time, did you?”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who practically has your schedule memorized by now, showing up at the infirmary right when you’re alone, leaning against the doorframe as he says, “miss me yet?” like he’s not been haunting your thoughts all damn day.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who starts leaving you little notes in your bag with ridiculous messages, like “come to my game, i need my lucky charm,” with a winking face drawn on it. and when you finally show up, he plays like his life depends on it, catching your eye in the crowd every chance he gets, shooting you that smirk as he sprints down the field.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who gets bolder every time you’re alone, wrapping his arm around your waist in the empty hallway, backing you against the wall, grinning when you shoot him a look. “don’t act so innocent,” he murmurs, tilting his head down to kiss you until you’re breathless, leaving you flushed and slightly disheveled before slipping away like nothing happened.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who gives you his hoodie on chilly nights after practice, watching with a satisfied grin as you pull it over your head. he’d even say, “looks better on you, anyway,” then stroll off, pretending not to be thrilled seeing you in his clothes.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who one day catches you in the library and somehow convinces you to sneak into one of the back study rooms, grinning as he shuts the door and pulls you close, whispering, “been dying to get you alone, you know that?” before pressing his lips to yours, hands sliding up your back as if he’s got nowhere else he’d rather be.

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who gives you a hard time for staying late at the infirmary, texting you, “don’t make me come drag you out myself,” and then showing up anyway. he lingers, leaning against the counter, arms crossed, looking at you with a smug smile and saying, “told you i’d come get you.”

sporty college fling!seungkwan, who finally asks you to stay over after a game, all soft and flushed from the adrenaline, looking at you with those bright, honest eyes. he murmurs, “you know, i don’t really want this to just be a fling,” his hand slipping into yours.

[aurynsia]

Unrequited, Terrifying Chapter 2

James Potter x Reader

Summary: After receiving a mysterious letter left under your door, you begin to search for the culprit…

Warnings: Extremely fluffy, nervous!james x shy!reader, some subtle wolfstar action in the background, reader plays hard to get without intending to, idiots in love, potentially a slow burn, oc!friends, lovesick!james x salty!reader, no use of Y/N, reader is referred to with she/her pronouns, NOT EDITED!

Word count: 1.7K

Series Masterlist

Chapter 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“Has anyone got any better ideas?” James asked, slumping against the wall of his dorm room with desperation plastered across his face. An hour into the school year and the Marauders were already failing in their attempts to woo James’ crush.

“I don’t know, Prongs. We’ve established that you can’t just approach the poor thing and ask her to marry you, THAT would be a horrible attempt at a relationship. You also can’t stalk her the entire year, that’s illegal.” Peter pondered, looking concentrated in thought. “James,” Remus broke his silence, “You’re a smart boy under that flirty exterior. You get good grades and you know how to write. Why don’t you just write down how you feel and pass it along?”

“Remus…you genius.” James replied with complete sincerity, dashing to hug the boy who might have just saved his chances with you. “That’s perfect! She won’t feel expected to respond, I can say all I need to say without tensing up around her, and I don’t even have to expose myself if she doesn’t like me back! It can be anonymous, yes!” James rambled as he searched his desk for a spare sheet of paper and a quill, ignoring the silent glances his friends gave to one another, teasing him mentally.

A sweet baby blue envelope was retrieved from his stack of correspondence material, lined on his desk as he began to write. “Looks like we don’t need to tell you what to say then, Prongsie?” Sirius commented to the quiet room as all four of them attended to their own business. James hummed in reply, tongue sticking out from his lips in concentration as his eyebrows dipped together. “Just have…to get this…right…” he murmured, pouring his heart out onto the paper.

Not too subtle, but refined, like a gentleman. Not too pushy, but still explicit in his feelings. Anonymous, but hinting at who your new secret admirer could possibly be. A flourish of shifting paper filled the quiet air as James tucked his note into the envelope, finally scribbling your name on the surface.

Stood in front of your dorm room, James shifted his weight from his left foot to his right as he weighed his options. Your uncharacteristic chatter could be heard from behind the wood, though all he could make out were his friends’ names and an unmistakably annoyed tone hung on your words.

“James” you continued, and his heart began to swim laps around his chest. You sounded confused and frustrated as you rambled on, allowing James to take a beat as he collected himself.

Your voice softened, and he took this as his call to action. He slipped the note beneath the door and pursued the safety of his own dorm before he could get caught.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

“EHEM! ‘To the only creature I could ever admire,’” Charlie began her dramatic reading of the mysterious note left under your dorm room door. “I have the greatest honour in being met with your stunning eyes, soft skin and quiet personality everyday when I pass you in the hall. The classes I share with you are moments in which my heart flutters at the sound of your gentle voice. The intelligence you hold and your refined sensibility could never be matched by a boy like me-’ ooh it’s a boy!! Ehem, sorry…‘but this is my best effort at showing that I am worthy of your love. I’ve seen the beauty you hold behind those guarded walls and I would sell my soul to bathe in its light. Make me yours, and I’ll give you the moon, the sun, and the stars in the sky.’ Oh! And it’s signed, ‘Forever yours…’”

You were stunned into an impression of a statue, barely showing the rise and fall of your chest. Hope smirked at the deep blush hovering over your cheeks while Charlie caught her breath from her award-winning performance. The room was still, a curiosity lingering in the air as all three of you began to silently ponder, who could this mysterious suitor be?

“Well, it says here that he thinks you’re out of his league- oh, damn! That doesn’t narrow it down…” Charlie joked to ease the tension and a fit of giggles erupted from the surface of your bed. “If it were up to me, dear, I’d start crossing names off of a list!” Hope laughed, though her smile fell as you and Charlie looked at her with faces of realisation.

“That’s what we’ll do.” You spoke for the first time since the note arrived, “We’ll write down every boy who could fit this description and narrow down the options!” You said with a glint of determination in your eye.

“So you’re interested in this secret admirer?” Charlie smirked, though her face emitted a sense of hope. “If he can speak so honestly about all of this,” you gestured to the note, “then I believe his maturity might just be worth it.”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Four pairs of eyes locked on you as you entered the Great Hall for breakfast. James was visibly more flustered than the others, but the rest of them were equally as invested in your reaction to the note.

You and your friends sat down with quiet whispers and glances down the table. As your eyes passed over the group of trouble makers they immediately paid special interest to their plates of food. Sirius began to pick at his eggs, Peter at his fruit and Remus stole quick sips from his juice. James gulped around nothing as he stared at his reflection in his plate, willing the bright flare of red occupying his face to fade away.

Once the three of you had moved your focus to a small huddle around your breakfast, the selection of Gryffindor boys immediately returned to ogling. “Can any of you see what they’re doing? Is that a quill in her hand?” Peter questioned. You shared quick giggles with your friends that disrupted the secrecy of your activity. The Marauders couldn’t quite place what you were doing, but they knew it would have something to do with the letter.

“An eye for mischief that one has, Prongs, what a cheeky couple you’d make- Ouch!” Sirius was interrupted by a sharp kick from his best friend under the table, though James’ eyes never left your frame.

Suddenly, your group took on faces of empathy, severity and concern, glancing at each other from your hunched positions. You trained your gaze on the boys who were discussing you, once again causing them to occupy themselves with the activities of breakfast.

After a lingering stare, you shifted back to the safety of your team and resumed your actions with a resolved expression.

“What do you think that was all about- Ow Prongs, what the bloody hell did I do?”

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

You gently opened the doors to the Great Hall, quill and notebook tucked behind your back. Charlie and Hope accompanied you to seats by the Gryffindor table, glancing over the potential perpetrators of last night’s events.

With a final look over your eligible bachelors, you sat down and began to work, sheltered by your friends. “I think this is pretty much the entire male cohort of Gryffindor…” you giggled breathlessly, pondering the dense list of names placed in front of you. Charlie and Hope joined in on your humour, scanning the list to double check your memory, then glancing around once more.

“Oh…um, w-well,” Charlie started, “there is one group we haven’t quite considered yet…” You and Hope turned towards the girl, who glared at you with an uncharacteristically subtle, mental comment. All three of you turned to face the Marauders, who were busy devouring their plates full of breakfast.

Your gaze lingered on each one. Sirius was no match for your intelligence and humility. You were certainly out of Peter’s league. Remus could convey that quiet poeticism that made you blush when the note was read out. James was always unpredictable. He did succeed in classes and he could potentially feel intimidated by your presence, or he could just be a dickhead. Either way, all four boys were, unfortunately, eligible suspects.

You returned to your coven of secrecy, hunched forms plotting over your notebook. You listed the boys below the pre-existing list of Gryffindor inhabitants that you shared classes with. ‘Sirius, Peter, Remus, James.’

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

Potions class finally arrived as the sun threatened to set in the faded sky. James rushed to his seat, close enough to you to feel sickeningly sweet without making it too weird. He wasn’t being too weird about all of this, right? No, the note was the right approach.

You drifted airily to your seat a few minutes later, resting on the chair as you retrieved your equipment. James felt his heart fight against his chest, pushing to be released from his lovesick body. A goofy smile captured his expression as he gazed at the back of your head in a daze, eventually interrupted by the beginning of class.

Potions came and went, with James struggling to keep his good grades with you just grazing the edges of his eye line. As the class began to fizzle away, and books found themselves tucked in bags or hugged towards chests, James decided this was his chance. Making his way to the front of the class, he smirked with confidence as he attempted to ask for his grade on the most recent assignment.

As he approached the teacher’s desk, he quickly dropped a folded note on your desk as you leaned into your bag on the opposite side. He promptly began his banter as you returned upright, watching as you curiously discovered the note in his peripheral vision.

“…Potter, you’ll get the grade at the same time as the rest of your class. Have some consideration for my free-time the next time you think to ask.” The professor’s words draw his attention back to their discussion, excusing himself with “Apologies, Professor! Have a good evening!” unusually happy for someone who just discovered they wouldn’t know their grade for at least another week.

As he swiftly moved towards his own belongings, a little bit too cocky for his own good and high on the success of his plan, he met a classmate’s back with a thump.

“Oh Merlin, I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to…” He realised who he had run into, your sweet fingers pinching the note you had yet to open as you swivelled around to face him, curiously. “Um, I- I’m sorry!” He rambled as he inched past you, scooping up his belongings and dashing out of the classroom.

Bollocks.

——————— ⋆౨ৎ˚⟡˖ ࣪ ———————

A/N: TYSM for all the support on the first part! This chapter should hopefully move the story along so we can get to the real fluff >:3 As always, likes and reblogs are immensely appreciated! Comment for part 3 <3

[samptlay]

Could We Be High School Sweethearts? - Out on the Field

A/N: shh... wdym it's almost been three weeks???

How in the world can anyone work out in this weather? Maybe you should have been smarter when signing up for Athletics at a place where it’s always cold, there would never be a reason to stay inside. Even with your three workout jackets on, the cold seeps through them and you’re shivering.

The weather in Snezhnaya isn’t something you could easily get accustomed to. Of course, it’s only the normal human natural response when put into a new environment. But of course, he would want to add to your suffering rather than sparring it. 

As your class headed outside the track, Ajax somehow slipped behind you, silently watching how your body turned pale. He can’t help but tease you for it.

“Aw, can’t handle the cold? Believe it or not, today’s one of our warmer days. I’m scared to see how you’d do when winter actually hits.” So this was barely scratching the surface. That’s just amazing, isn’t it? Is it too late to fly back to Liyue? You’ve already seen three different individuals grab icicles from who knows where before starting to munch on them, with no one else batting an eye.

Yeah, maybe homeschooling isn’t as bad as you thought.

With a groan, you turn around and face the redhead and Ajax could tell you weren’t particularly happy with his comment. You could see the smirk on his face grow ever so slightly at the sight of your reaction and it only ticked you off further. 

“I- I don’t understand the people who can swim in this weather.  Also, no normal human should be able to survive in this climate.” You stutter out, and surely the whole world could hear the clattering of your teeth. Your body was not built for this.

“You’ll get used to it. But if it makes you feel better, I’m sure it’ll take me a while to adapt to Liyue once I go there… eventually.” That was some new information to your ears. Well to be honest you didn’t know much about this guy in the first place, so while everyone was lining up on the track, you got behind him and started your interrogation.

“Why would you ever go to Liyue?” The question wasn’t meant to sound harsh, it was formed by your genuine curiosity. You could see something change in his eyes, and it’s only then that you realize that he has no spark inside them.

Maybe you’ll ask about that later if they ever get closer.

“I’m going to be a Fatui Harbinger. I’m going to travel across Teyvat and see every nation, eat all their food, and bring back souvenirs for my siblings. So a little bit after I graduate, I'll be out of here and across the world. There’s more, but you need to learn that information.”

The line moves up when the coach calls out for the next row to go and Childe looks down at you to gauge your reaction to which you look back up at him blankly, the only sign that you heard him is your singular eyebrow raised.

“That’s- a nice dream to have. But… You realize that you’d have to be crazy strong and master so many skills to be able to merely get recognized by the Tsurista?” Now it's Childe’s turn to look confused. His eyebrows furrow, and he shapes his mouth in a way that looks like he just tasted something bad before his face suddenly goes blank again, with a slow smirk forming on his lips.

Right. Everyone on campus is aware of his skill, all except you. Well obviously you’re new so it’s only natural, but that doesn’t mean he’ll fight like he always does at the next monthly Sparring Competition, no he’d do the best he can. Ajax’s sure to knock all the wind out of your lungs the moment you see him against his opponent. But for now, he’ll just let you believe he’s an obnoxious rich kid who doesn’t know what he’s doing.

“Oh come on! Don’t go ahead and crush all my dreams like that with a reality check.” He winces, clutching his stomach as if he’s been hurt, but you both notice he’s next in line to run and he gets in his stance. You roll your eyes and watch as all the other kids follow his motions. “Aww, was that too harsh? Don’t worry, I’m sure you could be a Harbinger’s assistant if anythi-”

As soon as the couch blows the whistle, he leaves everyone behind in the dust. Well, snow in this case, even if there wasn’t lots of it on the athletics field. He was fast and flexible, you had to admit. Sprinting down the track with everyone cheering and clapping, girls practically squealing and you swore you saw him win at one. The wind blew through the strands of his messy hair perfectly and he had finished running the whole thing in under a minute.

In the cold. Shit, he’s good.

You hadn’t realized your jaw was dropped until he stopped running right in front of you, raised his hand to your face, and pushed your chin upwards, causing your cheeks to flush a bit. “Impressed, girly?” Childe suspected you as the Tsundere type, so he was taken off guard when a slight smile came onto your lips.

“I really have to say, I underestimated you. Good job, Ajax.” Huh. He didn’t expect to be getting praised if anything. He thought you would roll your eyes and sarcastically clap for him, not this. Childe still had his finger on your chin, and it's then that he actually took the time to look at you. You were… pretty. And your eyes stood out in the winter compared to all the white around, unlike his dull, soul-threatening ones. Then yours blink. Repeatedly. It’s only then he realizes that he’s so close to you, holding up your chin, and around a crowd. Childe quickly steps back and clears his throat.

“S-Sorry I was just-” “Newby you’re up!” The coach calls, and you quickly turn around, thankful for an excuse to get away. Getting away is something you want more than anything right now since no one had ever expressed interest like he did just now. So while everyone else in your row was getting into their position, you were only thinking of being done, finished and back inside a warm, toasty classroom.

Childe guesses that’s exactly what you were thinking because you were gone in a flash., leaving everyone bewildered.

Taglist: @uhfhfhfhf @xdrin @msun1c0rn @umi-adxhira @lovingnahida @strrawb3rrysh0rtcak3 @ssecylia @skyl8ver @immahuman @meowmeowraven @01234 @markexplanation @esthelily @dawnofazrael @chickenalfredo4life @eccaza @jun-xiu @klemen-time @delulu-val @everi-eve

Borders by @cafekitsune

[steddieas-shegoes]

first off i just wanna say im loving everything youve written for ppls requests! how do u feel abt jock el? i feel like she maybe wouldnt understand sports at first and might struggle w the rules and fair play, but ends up really loving physical activity that has nothing to do w her powers, just her own hard work and sweat and skills she’s honed through practice all by herself, and the experience of being on a team. i can totally imagine her getting super competitive too, and being a super aggressive player in literally every sport. also, hopper is definitely the parent who yells at the referee and coaches during his kids games.

also i hope your day is going well whenever you see this!

Okay this was cuuuuuute. I really love the idea of El fitting in so well with sports people, but still never leaving her little group of nerds and badasses. I also love her just naturally being so good at every sport she tries because she is deeply in touch with what her body is capable of because of her powers, but never once using them. I maybe threw Wayne in a bit more than anyone would expect because I will always find a reason to do that. Also, this is a weird coincidence, but the Olympic swim trials for 2024 will take place in Indianapolis.- Mickala ❤️

-------------------------------------------------------

When things settle down, El goes back to school with everyone.

It’s hard at first. She never really fit in before, and she definitely doesn’t fit in now that people have seen official government security pretty much standing guard over her.

Even after they left, people still whispered when she ran errands with Joyce or Hop and went out with the rest of the party.

But she was determined to have as normal a life as she could, and that meant going to school.

High school here was better, even with the weird looks and silent bullies.

She had her friends.

She also had gym.

In California, she’d hated gym. She didn’t like getting dressed in front of everyone so she always got in trouble for taking too long. The girls in her class usually found ways to be lazy and she didn’t want to make herself more of an outcast, so she just didn’t participate most of the time.

But here, Lucas was in her gym class. So was Will, though he was a little hopeless when it came to anything beyond walking the mile.

Max was excused from gym for the rest of high school if she wanted.

Hard to argue with a letter from the literal President.

Mike and Dustin had a different period, but that was fine since they hated gym.

El didn’t hesitate to participate here.

She ran the fastest mile, always had the most push ups and pull ups, won every tetherball game. Her team always won volleyball and softball. She won every category in swimming.

The only sport she didn’t play was basketball, much to Steve’s disappointment and Lucas’ secret delight.

The coach recruited her for every sport he could, insisted that she could be the type of player that brings them championship wins.

Hopper was ecstatic, of course, especially when he saw how much El loved it.

She knew better than to use any powers, especially in competitions, but she was so naturally good, it didn’t even cross her mind that she could.

She was physically stronger than most other girls her age, and had already had so much done to her body that she could easily push through a little exhaustion during the 500 meter butterfly race or playing the entire soccer game with only one break.

She watched baseball games with Wayne and Hopper, asked if she could play.

Hopper had her signed up for softball the next day.

She saw a beach volleyball match during the Olympics and asked to play.

Hopper took her to tryouts for the school team as soon as he possibly could.

She made the swim team, made captain within a month. Steve was ecstatic, especially when she won against him every time they did a practice race. Eddie and Will were judges, and El was pretty sure it was just to see Steve shirtless, but she didn’t really mind.

She was having fun.

She was using her natural abilities to get out some of her aggression in a safe way according to Dustin.

Everyone came to her games and meets, but no one was as loud as her dad.

He was on his feet more than he was in his seat, usually pacing and yelling at refs and judges from the stands. Most people didn’t seem to care, or at least didn’t want to say anything to the reinstated police chief.

Steve was always there to remind him that El was learning, and that that was actually a penalty or that the judge was being fair on her tie with another girl in the butterfly.

Even as good as she was at just about every sport she tried, she struggled with some rules. Once they were explained in a way she understood, she was careful, but it cost her volleyball team a win in the process.

Steve helped her understand what he could, or took her to the library to look things up if he didn’t know. Wayne helped her understand the differences between softball and baseball while Eddie tried to take notes in the corner.

Actual notes.

“It’s so I know if she does good!” He explained when Wayne raised his brow at him showing interest in a sport.

To his credit, he immediately lost the notes he took and still had to ask Steve a bunch of questions at her next game.

She earned the MVP awards for every sport she played, gaining more positive attention than she’d expected. It was welcome, especially since it made a lot of people forget about the negative attention surrounding her the last few years.

Will designed shirts for everyone for her games and had Eddie get them printed at the same place he got the Hellfire Club ones made. They all wore them happily, too proud of her to not show all their support.

——————

Her senior year was when it hit that she had decisions to make.

She’d done fine in school; not straight A’s but never failed a class.

Sports are where she excelled.

But senior year was hard, and schedules were difficult enough without having to balance two sports at once immediately followed by two more.

The coaches did their best to offer accommodations since she was their star, but she didn’t like that. She didn’t want to be treated as “other.” That wasn’t why she did this.

So she dropped softball, much to Wayne’s heartbreak. He still smiled at her and said he was proud of everything she’d accomplished and hoped she’d still find time to come throw the ball with him.

She dropped volleyball in the spring, used the excuse that she needed to focus on swimming because she had scouts interested in giving her scholarships and the Olympic committee showed interest in recruiting her for Team USA.

Steve let her use his pool for extra practice, and usually joined her on the weekends for a morning swim, even on the still too cold mornings in February and March.

She held the Hawkins High and Indiana state records in most categories, and Midwest and National records in a few of those.

The olympic committee invited her to trials, and of course she’d enlisted Steve as her personal coach.

She trained for hours every day, Steve pushed her just enough using his new knowledge of the requirements she would have to meet to make the team and her competition.

She didn’t want everyone there, only Steve and Hopper.

She was worried having them there would put too much pressure on her and now wasn’t the time to perform poorly.

The morning of the trials, Steve let her cuddle up to his side on the couch.

“You’re ready.”

“That is not a question.”

“No, because I’m not asking. I know you’re ready,” he smiled when she rolled her eyes.

“I am ready.”

She was.

She outdid herself, actually. She ended up breaking her own record in her first event, and tied her own record in the second event.

She not only made the team, but was named captain almost immediately, the rest of her teammates incredibly excited to be on her team.

Hawkins had a parade for her, Hawkins High had a pep rally, the family had a huge party for her.

She still had to graduate high school, still competed on the high school swim team, even found time to be a lifeguard at the city pool every Friday and Saturday afternoon.

El had found her place.

—------------------------------

When USA won gold in every event for swimming, no one was surprised.

It’s hard to beat a team led by El.

She accepted a full ride scholarship to Purdue University, where she broke all their school records and got her degree in Physical Therapy so that she could work with athletes.

She competed in the Olympics again, winning gold in four events, silver in one.

But she always had her family there. They came from all over the country to watch, to support, wearing the same shirts that Will made years ago.

[silvfyre-writings]

Keep Talking (Kaiju No. 8 Fic)

Today, I bring the joy of more hoshikaf!! Truly this ship and the fandom have dug their claws in and I'm already swimming in ideas, so prepare to be fed more of them!! Enjoy~

Word Count: 4152

In the midst of a mission to exterminate kaiju, communication is key. Without it, the risk of injuries or death increases dramatically. But there are times where, in the midst of battle, that communication falls apart. It’s to be expected honestly, which is why they have people in the command centre that listen to all the information that comes in from everyone and figure out who needs to hear what as fast as possible. They truly don’t get enough credit—the command centre staff that is—when they do so much for the Defence Force, and quite often get the blame when communication suffers, even when it’s not their fault half the time.

Kafka both gets it and doesn’t, mostly because he’s attuned to the communications between everyone, keeping one ear on those of the third division to make sure that no one is about to die, and the other on the command centre in order to hear their reports on the kaiju so that he may offer what knowledge he has on the beasts. So of course, that also means he’s usually the first��ironic that this is what he’s first in—to know when someone drops out of contact; communication systems can break with a good enough hit, so as long as the person is still transmitting vitals, those watching over them will let the lack of communication slide for another minute or so.

But Kafka doesn’t wait, he just goes.

At best, he gets scolded for going to the aid of someone who didn’t need it—usually by Kikoru of all people—and at worst, he’s saving a life.

The mission that he and the third division are on is supposed to be a simple clean up mission. However, when they get there, the area is overrun with yoju, so many that they easily outnumber the third division. The only consolation is that they’re easy to deal with, and they make slow and steady progress in clearing them out. Kafka teams up with Ishikawa out of habit, and they wind up following in the carnage that Kikoru leaves behind as she charges ahead of the rest of them, axe cleaving the yoju in half with ease. Which is… effective, although Kafka wishes that she’d slow down just a little—just a little.

Nonetheless it goes smoothly for the first hour or so, the entirety of the third division working together to slay all the yoju whilst Okonogi and the others try to track down the honju that’s brought them here in the first place. Whatever it is, it’s determined to remain hidden from their systems, lying in wait for something and Kafka doesn’t like it when the kaiju wait; usually it means they’re on the larger size and far stronger than the everyday honju—not quite daikaiju class, but also not entirely honju either. Okonogi had described it to them once that honju of that type were simply the odd ones out, and usually, they were the unpredictable ones.

And it’s the job of the captains and vice-captains to deal with the unpredictable ones.

And—well—

It’s also Kafka’s job now.

The first sign of the honju comes with a loud rumbling that shakes the area surrounding the city that they’re trying to protect, yet Okonogi reports no readings that belong to the honju, only another wave of yoju that emerge just to make this mission even more of an annoyance than before. The next comes with a sudden loud explosion accompanied by shockwaves that send them all to the floor—Kafka tackles Ishikawa to the ground and covers the younger man’s body with his own protectively, even as Ishikawa protests underneath him.

“Senpai! I can protect myself!”

Kafka knows that, but he still remembers how lifeless Ishikawa felt after meeting Nine, and he just can’t let such a thing happen again. He just smiles down at Ishikawa. “You’ve protected me enough times, it’s my turn to protect you.”

His words draw forth a fond smile. “Thank you, senpai.”

The explosion fades as fast as it appears, and a cloud of dust lingers in the air afterwards. And it only takes a second for Kafka to realise that in the wake of the explosion, when everyone had been sounding off, Hoshina had not. That in itself isn’t too odd, as being one of the few blade users in the division meant that he sometimes couldn’t get a hand free to open the communication line when he engaged in combat. But what is odd is the way that underneath the cacophony of everyone shouting to try and figure out where the explosion came from and what caused it, Okonogi’s voice slips through the cracks.

“Vice-captain…?”

She sounds worried, like she’s been trying to get a hold of Hoshina for a while now, and that’s enough to have Kafka’s heart leap out of his chest. His body follows suite a moment later, and without a word he dashes in the direction he last remembers Hoshina being in, Ishikawa calling after him in confusion. But he doesn’t hear the question, blood pounding in his ears as he runs, transforming his legs so that he can move faster. He runs and runs, propelling himself over the bodies of yoju and crumbled buildings with ease, focused on only one thing and one thing only.

Making sure that Hoshina was okay.

Kafka switches to a private channel with Okonogi.  “Okonogi-san, it’s Hibino. What’s happened?”

“Oh, Hibino-san!” He can hear the stress in Okonogi’s voice. “I can’t get a hold of the vice-captain!”

For just a second—no, a fraction of a second—Kafka’s heart stops. “Is he alive?”

“Yes.” Okonogi confirms, typing away at one of her many screens. “According to my systems, his vitals are stable, but just before the explosion, they dropped.”

Kafka frowns, and pushes himself just a little further. “And he’s not responding?”

“No matter what channel I try. Perhaps he took a hit that knocked out his comms, but I’m worried because that vital drop was severe.”

“Send me his last known location, Okonogi-san, I’m already on my way over.”

Kafka hears what sounds like a muffled sob over the line, although he can’t be sure, before Okonogi speaks up again. “Thank you, Hibino-san. Dropping coordinates now.”

He hears the beep that signals the data’s been received, and pulls up the screen to look; he’s heading in the right direction, and at the speed he’s moving it’ll only be another minute or so before he arrives at the location. “Got ‘em. I’ll keep you updated.”

And with a quiet affirmative from Okonogi, Kafka switches back to the main channel so that he can catch up on what’s happening around him. He can hear Ishikawa reaching out to him, wanting to know why he ran off the way he did, and Kikoru jumping in to question Ishikawa about what stupid thing that he was doing now. And normally, Kafka would chime in at that moment to argue that he isn’t doing something stupid, and that he’s actually being rather helpful by dashing to the vice-captain’s aid. But he knows that if he says that to either of his friends that they’ll follow suite and on the off chance that the problem is in fact, broken comms, he doesn’t want to drag them away from the mission at hand. So he ignores their calls; if there’s a problem then he’ll call for aid, but until then he continues to run.

He'll be scolded for it later no doubt, for ignoring communication attempts and abandoning his post, but he can’t just stand by and wait for them to reestablish communications with Hoshina. However, he hopes that the scolding comes from Hoshina, because it means that everything is as it should be.

Kafka lets out a shaky breath, finding it amusing that he wants to be scolded by the vice-captain when he normally tried to avoid it.

As he draws closer to Hoshina’s location, Kafka switches to the channel that the vice-captain uses when he’s trying to focus on combat—its one that he and Okonogi use for the most part, where Okonogi relays the important communications through and if needed, links to the main channel that the rest of the third division uses. Hoshina doesn’t use the channel often, only in emergency situations, which is why Kafka hopes that he’ll get an answer if he uses it.

“Vice-captain?” Kafka calls, and waits for a response.

There’s a crackle over the comms, but no response otherwise.

Kafka tries again. “Vice-captain, please respond!”

His commlink crackles. “Kaf—”

The relief that Kafka feels over hearing Hoshina’s voice disappears the moment that he hears an almighty boom and sees another growing cloud of dust and debris not far from him. And Kafka doesn’t hesitate—he pushes off with as much power as he can draw upon without transforming fully and launches himself into the air towards where the second explosion had come from.

“Okonogi-san, I’m almost at the scene now.” Kafka says, eyes scanning the ground below him, searching for—there. “I’ve got eyes on him.”

The sigh of relief from Okonogi resonates within his entire body even though the two of them are nowhere near each other. “Do you require assistance, Hibino-san?

“I’ll let you know.” Kafka says, and then after a brief pause. “I’m sure Ishikawa and Kikoru are already on their way over though.”

Okonogi remains silent before she gives a strained laugh. “You could be correct, Hibino-san. Please, keep me updated.”

“Understood, Okonogi-san.” Kafka nods even though she can’t see him before he starts falling out of the sky, and the only reason that doesn’t terrify him is because he knows his body can handle it thanks to its kaiju powers—not that it stops the feeling of his stomach rising. That will always be an awful sensation, second only to actually dying. Well… third perhaps, since having limbs chopped off isn’t an overly pleasant sensation either. Or maybe fourth—no, fifth, no—

The point is, the falling sensation sucks.

Kafka hits the ground hard, and breaks into a run, dashing forward to where Hoshina stands, lilting dangerously to one side, right as the ground breaks open and the honju shoots up into the air before shooting down towards Hoshina. To his credit, the vice-captain raises his swords up to fight the enormous creature even though it’s obvious that blades won’t do anything against it, and plants a firm foot in front of him, ready to fight a losing battle.

Kafka’s heart stops then, and he doesn’t even hesitate.

He transforms.

“Soshiro!”

The vice-captains name slips out unintentionally, and Kafka lunges, kaiju eyes meeting Hoshina’s as the vice-captain glances towards him, and time slows around them both. Kafka feels as if he’s moving through sludge, not moving fast enough to save the life of the man he respects so much as a kaiju threatens to take it from him. And yet—and yet, Kafka’s arms wrap around Hoshina’s waist, the force of his jump carrying them both to safety as the honju disappears below the ground where Hoshina had been just a moment ago.

And then there’s silence, and yet another dust cloud.

“Soshiro? You’re good at… disrespect… Hibino Kafka.” Hoshina croaks, and Kafka glances down at his vice-captain. “You’ll be doin’ laps… when we get back.”

Kafka nods; he’ll do as many laps as Hoshina wants.

“Okonogi-san was concerned when you dropped out of contact.” Kafka says, and then actually looks over Hoshina. There’s a gash across the vice-captain’s forehead, blood running down his face and the eye on that side is squeezed shut—whether because of an injury or the blood, Kafka can’t tell. Hoshina’s suit is also torn in places, blood dripping from those wounds as well, and a closer look shows that his shoulder looks wrong. A dislocation then, from the way he’s holding himself.

Hoshina laughs, a smile on his face. Always the smile.

Kafka never wants that smile to disappear.

“Okonogi-chan worries too much. I’m fine.” Hoshina says, the grimace on his face suggesting otherwise however.

“Will all due respect, vice-captain, I disagree with you.” Kafka says and gently lowers Hoshina onto the ground, keeping an ear out for the honju. The last thing he wants is for it to sneak up on them. “What happened?”

Hoshina winces as he’s placed on the ground and Kafka notices that he’s dragging one leg. Broken? Hard to say. “Bastard’s good at hidin’ his presence. Came right up from underneath me.”

Kafka nods. That explains why despite all the yoju about, they haven’t been able to detect the readings of the honju; some kaiju are like that, Kafka’s learned, and it’s never any less annoying when one appears on a mission. “What can I do to help?”

“Well, since ya already transformed, blastin’ it away would be nice.” Hoshina suggests with a smile—this one less friendly and more bloodthirsty.

Kafka shudders, remembering such a smile when Hoshina had tried to kill him before he’d revealed himself, and knows that if the vice-captain were able to move properly, that the honju would be having a bad time. He steels himself, though, and nods. “I’ll—”

He doesn’t get a chance to finish his sentence as the ground opens up underneath them. An arm wraps around his neck, and a leg around his waist which is all that Kafka needs to know before pushing himself into the air. The arm around him tightens, but Hoshina manages to hold on despite his injuries.

“Well, that’s a little inconvenient.” Hoshina remarks as if they’re fighting a yoju instead of a honju. “Do your thing, Kafka, I’ll be fight.”

“But, vice-captain—”

Hoshina’s hand slaps against the side of his face. “No buts, it’s an order. Destroy the honju before it goes underground again.”

Kafka nods and calls forth on his power. One good blow should be enough to obliterate the honju—and even if it isn’t, Ishikawa and Kikoru can’t be too far away to deal the finishing blows themselves. What matters most right now is protecting Hoshina, a job that Kafka intends to do well.

The kaiju lets out a deafening roar and Kafka returns it with one of his own just as he lands on the roof of a building that’s miraculously still standing, and pushes off the edge towards the honju. He hears Hoshina grunt in his ear, and his grip tighten more, but Kafka can’t focus on it right now because if he does, he’ll lose power, and he truly wants to finish this fight in one hit. As he nears the honju, he twists his body to draw Hoshina closer to him, and then unleashes a powerful punch that sends shockwaves through the air—and the honju with it.

Kafka grits his teeth when the honju doesn’t immediately blow apart, and prepares to launch another attack once his feet are on the ground.

Only, he doesn’t get to.

Because Kikoru comes flying forward and with one swing of her axe, cleaves the honju in two.

“Hibino Kafka, you idiot! Running off and transforming without telling anyone!” Kikoru shouts.

Kafka can’t help but grin. “Ah, you know me, Kikoru; I just want to help people.”

“Well, don’t ignore communications next—vice captain!” Kikoru cuts off as she lands on the ground and spots Kafka—now returned to his human form—with Hoshina resting against him.

“Ah, Shinomiya, nicely done as usual.” Hoshina says, smiling. “You’re getting’ the hang of that weapon there.”

“Excuse my disrespect, vice-captain, but don’t even try to deflect!” Kikoru huffs, coming to crouch before him and Kafka. “Ishikawa’s right behind me. Once he gets here, we can head back. With the honju down, the others will have an easy time with the yoju—at least, they better.”

Kafka blinks at the backhanded comment but elects not to respond to it. Respond… oh right! “Okonogi-san, we’ve secured the vice-captain, but we need medical.”

“Already dispatched, Hibino-san!” Comes the reply.

“Ah, Okonogi-chan, how lovely to hear you worryin’ over me.” Hoshina says

Okonogi lets out a huff. “I wouldn’t have had to worry so much if you’d responded to me after the honju appeared!”

“Well, lapses in communication happen sometimes, can’t do much about it.”

“You aren’t getting out of it that easy, vice-captain!” Okonogi snaps, the slightest bit of frustration seeping into her voice before she falls quiet and then murmurs. “I’m glad you’re okay though…”

Hoshina lets out a breath that has Kafka tightening his grip on the man, and they both look towards the corpse of the honju, and smiling, Hoshina murmurs back. “It was a close one, I’ll tell ya that.”

Too close indeed, Kafka thinks.

“You’d think I did die from the way you’re still here.” Hoshina’s voice wakes Kafka from the unexpected nap that he’d taken in the chair beside the vice-captain’s bed in the infirmary.

Kafka lets out a yawn and stretches before he sits as straight as he can. Relief fills him at seeing Hoshina’s eyes open, even though one is obscured by bandages—as is the rest of him after the injuries he’d sustained on the mission. “No one deserves to wake up alone in the infirmary, vice-captain.”

Hoshina hums and turns to look at the ceiling. “Has anyone at least tried to kick you out?”

“Captain Ashiro tried. I… respectfully refused.” Kafka says with a sheepish grin. And when Hoshina looks at him with a raised eyebrow, he can’t help but elaborate further. “Well, she gave me a hundred laps for insubordination, but then told me to wish you a fast recovery.”

Hoshina hums, which prompts Kafka into continuing further.

“And everyone else has at least stopped by briefly to see how you’re doing.”

“They must think I’m on my deathbed then.”

Kafka’s face loses its mirth. “Your injuries were serious, vice-captain…”

Hoshina raises his injured arm a few inches before wincing and lowering it back to the bed. Instead, he raises is uninjured arm and waves it dismissively in Kafka’s direction. “I’ve had worse.”

And doesn’t Kafka believe it. During the time that Hoshina had been unconscious, when Mina had come to visit her vice-captain, she’d told him of how Hoshina had come to be part of the third division, sacrificing his own life to save that of a child and almost dying because of it. She’d also deigned to share with him a few other instances in which Hoshina had discarded his own well-being for the sake of others, and each one had Kafka’s heart clenching. He understands of course, since he’s much the same, putting his own life on the line to save those he cares about. But… it’s different for him. He’s not quite human as much as he tries to prove he is, a fact he is slowly coming to terms with, with each mission that he’s forced to unleash his kaiju form on.

He hates it, but it’s the truth.

And yet Hoshina is as human as they come, a kind person who pushes everyone to their limits so that they can protect themselves when the time came, and its why Kafka looks up to him, strives to be as good a man as Hoshina is, to be as strong as the vice-captain is.

But he doesn’t want to become those things if Hoshina isn’t there to witness them.

“Your entire left side was broken.” Kafka says, repeating what he’d overheard the doctors saying. “Your suit saved you, but it was still bad.”

Hoshina remains silent, watching Kafka with a curious gaze.

Kafka brings his hands together and shuffles forward to rest his forehead against Hoshina’s bed, not saying anything for a moment and just listening to Hoshina’s steady breaths. He hadn’t left the younger’s side after medical had extracted them, not even when the doctors were treating Hoshina, despite their best efforts to get Kafka out of the way. Even Kikoru and Ishikawa had tried to drag him away, but he refused them. He’d tried to tell himself that it was because Mina and Okonogi were too busy with the mission debrief to keep Hoshina company until he woke, but… Kafka doesn’t think that’s entirely true.

There’s something else, something that he can’t quite name yet.

Something he doesn’t want to think about right now.

A hand in his hair causes him to look up, and Kafka relaxes at the soft look Hoshina gives him, dragging his fingers through Kafka’s hair soothingly.

“I worried you.” Hoshina says.

Kafka nods, the words he wants to say stuck in his throat.

“I won’t promise not to do it again.” Hoshina continues, and Kafka nods again. “But…”

“But…?” Kafka murmurs.

“I’ll try not to get myself thrown into a building by a honju that can avoid our sensors.”

Kafka snorts, and smiles. “I think myself and the rest of the division would appreciate it, vice-captain.”

A silence falls between the two of them, and Kafka returns to resting his head against the side of Hoshina’s bed. Now that Hoshina’s awake and he’s spoken to him, Kafka’s hit with a sudden wave of exhaustion, accumulated from recent events. In hindsight, he realises he’s being disrespectful to his superior, but he’s just so relieved that Hoshina is okay, that he can’t help but do it; there’s just something inside of him, urging him to remain by the vice-captain’s side. And he just gives in to it. The worst that the vice-captain can do right now is kick him out and demand that Kafka leave him alone, but considering that the moment Kafka’s head returns to the bed, Hoshina’s hand returns to his hair.

After a few minutes, Hoshina speaks, a teasing note in his voice. “So… Soshiro, huh?”

Kafka’s face begins to burn and he shoots back upright into his seat. “I didn’t mean to—honestly! It just slipped out, and I apologise for the disrespect! I was just—”

“Kafka, chill.” Hoshina interrupts, and then turns his face away from Kafka. “It’s fine.”

He blinks, stunned into silence by Hoshina’s words.

“Sometimes.” Hoshina says after a moment. “It’s fine… sometimes.”

Kafka blinks again, and then decides to take a gamble. “Is now one of those sometimes?”

Hoshina grumbles something that may or may not be an affirmative answer, and Kafka returns to resting against the edge of Hoshina’s bed.

He takes a moment to mull over his next words before speaking them. “I’m glad you’re okay… Soshiro.”

It feels strange to speak Hoshina’s name so casually, but it’s worth it when the other man’s ears begin to turn red and he rolls away from Kafka.

“Soshiro.” Kafka says again, slower than before, which has Hoshina rolling back over to face him as best he can without jostling his injuries, face red and eyes open. The vice-captain opens his mouth to say something, only to let out a strangled noise that alarms Kafka into rising to his feet. “Vice-captain, are you al—”

A hand lashes out to grab Kafka’s wrist, and he finds himself being dragged onto the bed, instinct the only reason that he doesn’t crush Hoshina underneath his weight. His new position is awkward and he quickly adjusts himself until he’s able to lay beside Hoshina—a completely unprofessional thing for him to be doing, but he fears what’ll happen if he tries to leave. He gets his answer on why he’s suddenly being manhandled when Hoshina adjusts himself, rolling onto his injured side so that he can hide his face against Kafka’s chest.

Kafka doesn’t move; he’s pretty sure that he’s stopped breathing too, unsure of what to do in this situation.

Thankfully, Hoshina answers his unasked question. “Breathe, and just lay there. That’s an order.”

An order. It’s an order. He can follow orders.

And so he does.

He remains there, on Hoshina’s bed, with Hoshina also on the bed, and lays as still as he can. When it becomes clear that this isn’t some kind of punishment, Kafka begins to relax, and he drapes an arm over Hoshina’s waist, resting it there carefully before letting his weight settle—the last thing he wants is to hurt the vice-captain that’s trusting him with this… tender moment.

It confuses Kafka and he’s not sure how to feel about it, but it feels… nice, like this is where he’s meant to be.

He can feel Hoshina’s breaths slowing as the younger drifts off to sleep in his arms, and Kafka finds himself doing the same.

But just as he too, is about to doze off, he remembers something. “Oh yeah, Okonogi-san plans to scold you when you’re discharged.”

Hoshina gives a tired laugh. “She always does. It’s fine though; I have you to field her fury.”

And for some reason, those words warm Kafka’s heart more than he feels they should.

[thedivineerotic]

The 4th House Experience Pt. 1:

(The Ugly Duckling)

Case Study: Lilo Pelekai

“Home is where the heart is.” - Anonymous

“Home is not where you live, it is where you belong.” - African Proverb

Out of all the water houses (4th, 8th and 12th), the 4th house is given the least amount of attention in online astrology circles, ironic considering that is the only one of the three houses to also serve as an angular house. It doesn’t share the dark, esoteric reputation that makes the 8th and 12th houses such popular houses, but just because it deals with relatively “lighter” topics such as family, the home, ancestry, roots and history doesn’t mean that it isn’t deep. As a matter of fact, one could argue that it is the deepest of the water houses seeing that it is the only one below the horizon. When I first delved into astrology, admittedly the 4th house was not one that garnered much of my attention and for a while I actually considered it one of the more boring of the astrology houses but upon further growth, study and reflection the depths of it became very apparent.

And they were presented perhaps no better than the little girl whose character won me over more than any Disney princess both as a kid and now. 

The movie lilo and stitch ironically starts with Lilo swimming in the depths of the ocean. She rushes from the beach to make it to her hula dancing lesson. Upon getting there she is immediately singled out for being late, being wet and the seemingly strange explanation of why she had to feed the fish Pudge a peanut butter sandwich as he has control of the weather. Her instructor nor the other girls in the class understand the reasoning behind why her routine with Pudge the fish is so important and ostracize her, with the defacto leader of the small girls’ group Myrtle going as far as to call her “crazy.”

And immediately getting her ass beat because of it.

Unfortunately Lilo is ostracized by her peers, robbed of a sense of belonging from a very young age. Aside from her sister, her sole sense of belonging comes from her doll “Scrump” whose appearance scares the other girls and further causes her to feel like a misfit. 

Later in the story we get the explanations to her seemingly strange behavior, we see that her Tuesday routine with Pudge and the importance of him controlling the weather comes because her parents died while driving in the rain. Her being nostalgic and an old soul sets her apart, her favorite artist being Elvis Presley. She latches onto “Scrump” because she is lonely and has no friends. She makes a wish on what she thinks is a shooting star and prays for a friend (wishes being an 11th house theme) and she is sent Stitch, an alien posing as a pet dog, fitting considering pets are a 6th house theme and the 4th house being 6 spaces from the 11th house. Although he too is different, something that uneases her older sister Nani almost immediately, and does not seem like a normal dog, Lilo embraces him from the very beginning, again speaking to Lilo’s nature to offer other misfits a sense of belonging like she herself doesn’t have.

The two misfits go on a series of adventures around the island, but even in that we can still see Lilo’s desperation to belong as she apologizes and still attempts to befriend the girls who have bullied her and treated both herself and Stitch as pariahs. 

Later in their adventures we see them eating at Nani’s job. The 4th house is representative of the sign of Cancer, opposite of the 10th house which is representative of the sign of Capricorn. Nani displays many themes of the 10th house, tirelessly bouncing from job to job to provide for Lilo and although she initially wanted to fulfill Lilo’s wish and give her a companion, Stitch threatens her job search and the already flimsy structure of their house so much that she can’t afford the sympathy in gifting him a sense of belonging like Lilo can. She is just about to throw Stitch out of the house when Lilo brings up a quote from her deceased parents, Ohana. 

“Ohana means family…”

Despite being a young girl, Lilo is very attached to the memory of her parents, keeping a picture of them underneath her pillow. She also keeps a physical book copy of the “The Ugly Duckling”. In it she explains the story of a baby duckling that is sad because “he’s been left behind by his family and nobody wants him. But they hear him crying and they find him and now he is happy because he knows where he belongs.”

The night when Stitch threatens to run away, he takes her copy of the Ugly Duckling with him. Lilo tries her best to convince him to stay, fearing losing the only friend other than Nani that she has ever had. When he still leaves, though disappointed she says that she will still never forget him as she “never forget anyone who leaves” before looking at the family picture with her parents again and tucking it back underneath her pillow. 

The next morning Stitch comes back, trying to escape capture. Naturally she misses her friend and helps him to evade from Jumba and Pleakly trying to arrest him, even going so far as to sacrifice her doll “Scrump” to blow up in the latter’s face. Things unfortunately go too far when their literal house ends up being blown up. When Stitch finally reveals himself to be an alien, she feels betrayed, as if Stitch took advantage of her need for belonging with his need to escape (the 4th house and 9th house themes again being at odds as the 9th house is 8 spaces from the 4th house, the 8th house signifying deception and destruction). When she is taken instead of Stitch she feels defeated, fearing losing her older sister and her home of Hawaii, she officially belongs to nothing.

Someone that gave her a sense of belonging has left her behind once again.

Finally at the end, upon being rescued and securing Stitch as her pet and best friend for good, Lilo has finally found her sense of belonging. Despite being robbed of a life with her parents, her natural family, she is able to find a family, a tribe, one made up of her older sister along with fellow misfits and aliens just like her.

No one got left behind and no one got forgotten.

As a 4th Houser, depending on the conditions of the house, your sense of belonging has likely fluctuated throughout your life. No one knows to highs a sense of belonging brings and the low a sense of not belonging brings like you. 

You may some severe abandonment issues and may have fought to be included, to feel you belong in circles where others were seemingly accepted easily. And if you have it, you fought hard not to loose it.

But in the end, you stop fighting to belong and another alien, or group of aliens, find you.

So even if people have left you in some circles, even if people have pushed you out of others, here's to finding and holding tight to your own “Ohana”.

And keeping onto those memories along the way!

Signed, The Divine Erotic (4th House Moon)

[apollosgiftofprophecy]

📚

[Would you ever want to turn writing into a career?]

Something I always wonder whenever I read a good fanfic.

I've been thinking about it since before I started writing fanfiction, tbh. Fifth grade. I started young lmao

But yeah. I've toyed with ideas from different genres, particularly during my Genre Writing class Senior year. I had an idea for a Dystopian/Fantasy story that my teacher loved, but one idea that keeps resurfacing in my brain is...well, *chuckles*

Apollo.

Could be the brainrot but...one thing that irks me in Greek Mythology retellings is how the gods (and our boy Apollo) are often portrayed. Now, I get that every retelling is basically published fanfiction of the myths, but there's a line between "fanfic/retelling" and "disrespectful to the OGs"

(this turned into a mini-rant, please excuse me lmao XD)

In Disney's Hercules, the mythology is a jumbled mess (and Apollo's barely there *huffs angry*). Though this is a kids movie so I hand-wave a pass to it because again, kids movie.

Also the soundtrack slaps. *shrug*

In The Song of Achilles, Apollo's (from what I hear- I haven't read it) apathetic and one-dimensional, as well as the other gods, which is not fun. LET THE GODS HAVE CHARACTER I SAY!

And sure, maaaaybe Apollo's portrayed that way because he hates Achilles, but...uh, if you read the mythology you'll find out that Achilles 100% deserves that hate. He murdered two of Apollo's sons - Tenes, who had nothing to do with the war and was trying to defend his sister from Achilles's unwanted advances and was killed in the process, and Troilus, who was a child and slaughter in Apollo's temple, on his altar, by Achilles.

Like come on. I am on Apollo's side here, Achilles had it coming.

And of course... *gags* LO. I do not even dare type the monstrosity out. Just...just disgraceful. Not only is Apollo done extremely dirty (and characterized in a way he never was in the actual mythology - *gnaws angry*), but from what I know, Leto and Demeter are also given terrible characterizations. And that's just not cool because they are GREAT MOMS.

Bet there's even more things that I'm unaware of that does the whole mythology dirty.

I guess it's partially from spite, but I really want to find some way of writing Greek Mythology, stay true to the classical versions of the gods while developing them, and provide a good story in the process. As well as respecting ancient greek culture as much as I can, because 1) culture is important in stories and 2) gives me an excuse to dive into ancient greek culture whenever I want because I like Doing That :)

I am a midwest American who has never left the country's borders but by god if I can swim in another country's history and culture it would be Greece. And I would never come out because I love learning about it.

Plus, I really love reading about the myths and if I could make a living basically writing mythology fanfiction, then sign me the fuck up I'm already doing it let's go.

It's an ambitious goal but I am up for the challenge.

My timeline certainly will come in handy for it :)

Sometimes being a writer is writing what you want to read, and sometimes it's getting so mad at what society is doing to your favorite that you start planning on defending his name through sheer force of will/writing :3

[bigstupid69]

constance hcs if u don't mind? sorry for asking (did i already ask like,, 5 minutes ago i cant remember shit)

I had to copy them down, and definitely add more stuff to some of them so I apologize for the late response.

Constance headcanons below the cut

I think she's like surprisingly strong. I had after school activity headcanons for all of the choir and I put her on the swim team and also rugby apparently?? I think that was just me being a lesbian, but anyway. I put her on the swim team since that is literally the only sport I could think of where like the literal sweetest people are at least in my school, I also just like making Ocean's assumptions about everyone really wrong. That punch in the boob must've really fucking hurt and honestly deserved.

On the note of extra curriculars, she is definitely a band kid and plays the flute in band to reflect the sugar cloud recorder solo. She's probably forced to join every club Ocean signs up for and doesn't really enjoy being there, but she took a creative writing class with Ricky and Noel and did actually really like that.

Speaking of which she has definitely written fanfics on AO3, she seems like the type to be writing a 50k slow burn romance of two like background characters in a show or movie and then never update it ever again until she comes back and writes a completely different fanfic.

I made every member of the choir autistic regardless but I believe she has persistent depressive disorder, which is just chronic depression in much simpler terms, it's not fun.

She dyed her hair different colors constantly, not just purple; she just happened to die with the purple dye. She also is just the choir's hairdresser at points, and has dyed every choir member's hair at least once except Ocean because she's Ocean and doesn't want to experience joy. Mischa went with some like awful neon blue and despite Constance knowing how awful that would turn out he was now cursed with having blue raspberry slurpee hair for a week.

She does Kandi and makes bracelets for all the choir members, as well as super intricate designs like the animal beads and stuff like that. She also did rainbow loom so much, just has so many bracelets made stashed away in her drawers.

She unironically takes BuzzFeed quizzes and makes the whole choir do them with her; she'd genuinely redirect Mischa to those "Am I gay" quizzes when he questioned his sexuality.

She seems like she's the only one in the choir with a good sleep schedule but she's just amazing at hiding her depression and declining mental health since she's been doing it ever since she was in middle school.

She definitely had a small crush on Penny when she was first introduced to the choir, because of the mysterious attitude. But the trance would immediately get wiped away as she witnesses Penny just fall down the stairs tripping over nothing.

The only ships I heavily ship with Constance is candyrapper and sugarspace, and y'know in some universe of my art she is definitely in a poly relationship with them AND Talia, and I just want the world to know my vision. (Actually this idea is now haunting me and I might literally draw this crack ship I just made up uhm-)

Gets along the most with literally everyone but Ocean. They used to have a genuine non toxic relationship in elementary school, but she was probably just looking at the relationship through rose-colored glasses since she was just a kid…

[artzychic27]

Who would be the DC parents for the Science Kids? I can see Aurore being Aquaman’s daughter (and creating fake rain with hydrokenisis like Lapis on Room for Ruby). Jean would be Zatanna’s for obvious reasons. Simon could be Flash’s kid (using his speed to edit his videos even quicker) and Reshma’s could be Poison Ivy, I guess (reference to class of heroes, where she is Isabella).

Aurore: Aquaman

A lot of her stuff is waterproof from her books to her electronics

Would join the school’s swim team, but that doesn’t seem fair

She hates dolphins. They’re just all fucking bastards…

Aurore has a tendency to smack sea food out of peoples hands. She knows most of them!

The Beauréals experimented with sperm and egg donors to ensure they had perfect, well-rounded children. Though, they didn’t account for Aquaman being a sperm donor

Mireille: Black Canary

When she was born, Mireille cried so loud and temporarily deafened everyone on the hospital floor

Black Canary helped take care of Mireille for three years before she had to leave for a few missions. She occasionally stops by to help Mireille with her powers and to intimidate Alec

When she heard Theo was being bullied at school, she walked right up to the bastard and screamed

Mireille has some light streaks in her hair

Jean: Zatanna

He’s pretty good at talking backwards

Has never failed a single magic trick, and if someone tries to mess one up, they can expect a flock of doves in their locker

Occasionally leaves a few roses in a certain brunette’s locker

After his wife left, Dejah went out to clear his head, met Zatanna at a bar, and now he’s got a magic son

Lacey: Beast Boy

She still has her normal skin tone, but when she turns into animals, she’s mint green

Her favorite forms are mountain lions, lemurs, and just any animal that’s good at climbing

Not technically her dad. Beast Boy donated some of his blood because Lacey had some medical problems when she was born

He’s more like her godfather

Also, she’s not a strict vegetarian, but sometimes eating meat makes her uncomfortable

Cosette: Static Shock

Can charge ten phones in under three seconds

Braids its hair back so it’s not sticking up at the ends, becuase that gets annoying fast

Her mom participated in a newly funded military program involving superpowered sperm and egg donors

Will annoy you with 90s slang, courtesy of her dad

Cosette: Dayumn! What’s got you trippin’?

Jean: Please speak according to our current decade!

Cosette: *Scoffs* Buzzkill.

Jean: That! That, too!

Zoé: Batman

Zoé served as one of his many, many Robins before she moved to Paris after an… Incident at her school

She was surprised to find herself in a classroom of superpowered teenagers, especially since she knows most of their parents

Audrey had several affairs, so why not one with Bruce Wayne?

She keeps a lot of weapons on her person

Incredibly athletic, intelligent, and able to take down any superhuman

Zoé: *Looks at Marc* … So, did Dick do Starfire, or what?

Marc: Starfire

On Tamaran, his name is pronounced as Myzan'r

When he gets angry or upset, Marc’s eyes glow bright green as a sign that he’s charging his laser eyes

Is FIERCELY protective of his brother

For his protection, Starfire and [Censored] had Marc live with Penny and Alyssa Anciel after his aunt attempted to sell Marc into slavery like she did with Starfire when they were younger. Long story short, Marc tore open an alien ship with his bare hands when he was seven

Tamaraneans are known for their iron stomachs, so this guy will eat just about anything you put in front of him

Marc: I’ll have you know, I have a refined pallet.

Cosette: “Refined,” my ass. You ate a meat lovers pizza coated in chocolate syrup and sour gummy bears.

Denise: Wonder Woman

Already tall, strong, and insanely gorgeous like an Amazon, so why not?

Like Marc, Denise is VERY protective of Cerise

Was close friends with Flavio Cabello’s grandparents back in the 40s, and because of that, she created Denise the same way she was created when Flavio and Pilar were having trouble conceiving until they had Cerise

Wears a LOT of jewelry, so no one questions the silver cuff bracelets

Simon: The Flash

Can edit fifty videos in three seconds and is fast enough to escape any assholes trying to shove him in a locker when Denise isn’t around

Sometimes they like to mess with the other students, just when they need a moment of peace and quiet

The Flash saved him from the house fire his parents didn’t bother to safe him from, donated some blood, and now Simon has his powers and a new godfather

He can run across the world in only eight seconds, but still prefers to be princess-carried by Denise

Ismael: Superman

In the Cool Aliens club with Marc

This guy can get hit by a truck and still keep walking as if nothing happened

Likes to eavesdrop on conversations with his super hearing and then blackmail certain people

Ismael’s egg donor had an affair long before she divorced Fazli

Fazli was able to get full custody after Superman got her arrested. Because Superman don’t take kindly to child abuse

Reshma: Poison Ivy

Likes to decorate her clothes with flowers and vines. Her style is post All-Of-You-Isabela, VERY colorful

Her hair has some tints of red in it

She was sent to Paris when she was five seeing as it was getting too dangerous in Gotham

Reshma was made in a lab as one of Poison Ivy’s sporelings, and she has a slight magenta tint to her skin

She likes making flower crowns for her friends

[floaroma-sanctuary]

Adoption Spotlight!

Thunder Thursday is bringing I think an unintentional theme. Summertime always brings more people on the water, which, unfortunately, means more Water-types being brought in for one reason or another. Today's spotlight is an absolute dear! Leora the Chinchou!

Leora came to us as an injured, presumably abandoned Pokémon. Chinchou already do not have the greatest of vision, but her eyes were damaged by what we assume as a larger, more aggressive Pokémon. She is blind, but she retains light perception. She's otherwise very happy, healthy, and young.

Leora does not do well at all with battling, which is one reason we believe she was abandoned. She likes the lights flashing at contests, but that's about it. For the most part, she's pretty content being able to swim around and spend time with the people she likes.

Despite her blindness, we are not requiring experience with blindness for her future adopter. We do ask that she be kept as a companion Pokémon and spoiled rotten though! We also recommend attending some of our classes on caring for your disabled Pokémon.

Leora LOVES water, even for a Water-type. She has a favorite disco ball toy that flashes lights and plays music that will be adopted with her, and she loves moving it around in her tank and in the river that runs through the Sanctuary. Anything that flashes and plays music and can survive the water is her jam!

Leora is required to have free access to enough water for her to submerge herself and move around comfortably. She does alright on land, but she would need to be monitored for any signs of dehydration. Chinchou are naturally a deep sea Pokémon and are not as accustomed to dry land, even the captive bred ones.

If Leora is lighting up your heart, contact Floaroma Sanctuary at this blog or stop in anytime Monday-Friday, 8 am to 7 pm, or Saturday, noon to 5 pm.

[midorishinji]

Clair de Lune

"One word from you will silence me forever, I hope you know that, but for that you need to say a word — your silence is distressing." "If one word would silence you forever, I hope fourteen are more than enough."

Sasuhina｜Oneshot｜Also published in Portuguese and on AO3

It was a lazy Thursday morning, in the middle of an unpromising autumn — or at least that's what Sasuke Uchiha thought. He tore one of the pages off the calendar without thinking much: today was September 22, 1988, the year in which the Iran-Iraq War came to an end, just over a month ago, after almost a decade of conflict; it had also been the year of the death of the Chinese president and the beginning of the USSR's economic restructuring, and the Gare de Lyon accident in Paris as well. It had been a troubling year to the world and, at the same time, a period of never-ending boredom for him, a mere high school student.

He left home for his first class of the day when it was early and the cold morning breeze dragged orange leaves away from the dry branches of the trees on his street. Next to him lived a fellow student and classmate, Hinata Hyuuga: the two hadn't really spoken to each other since they were children when they used to play together, and he rarely paid attention to her. Hinata had always been shy and reclusive, and this proved true even today when she walked every day protected from human contact by the headphones attached to her walkman. They didn't greet each other, as usual, they just followed the same path, in the same solitary and silent company as always.

Every second and fourth Thursdays of the month, the school newspaper was published, and Sasuke was an avid reader — not of the entire newspaper, but of a specific column, published by an author who hid behind a peculiar pseudonym, who wrote short stories. God forbid his swim teammates didn’t hear him say this, but he loved reading what that fantastic person, Charlotte Rimbaud, had to say!

Naruto, his best friend, knew this, and arrived at his locker with the most recent copy of the newspaper. — Your favorite author outdid herself this time, 'ttebayo ... I’ve read it, just out of curiosity, I mean, I wanted to see what it was all about since you like her so much, dattebayo …

— I like what she writes. — Sasuke corrected him, without taking his eyes off the math book he intended to pick up as he extended his hand towards the locker.

—Same thing, ‘ttebayo .

— I don't even know her.

That was the problem: Sasuke Uchiha, the boy who could have whoever he wanted in that damn school, couldn't have the only person he wanted because he didn't even know who she was. This bothered him, far beyond his wounded pride: it didn't matter if Charlotte Rimbaud didn't want him as a boyfriend, but perhaps as a friend or merely a fan, it would have been good enough for him. He needed to meet her and know what was going on inside the head of this extraordinary person.

— And you'll never know if you keep being a coward, dattebayo .

The bell rang before he could say anything else, and the two headed to the classroom. At the door, Sasuke bumped into his neighbor, who was carrying the journalism and literature club's attendance lists and other documents: perhaps that was a sign, he thought, before sitting down for Professor Kakashi's calculus class.

(...)

The end of the month always meant a lot of paperwork to fill out. Not that this bothered Hinata, she was already used to tedious tasks that allowed her to put on her headphones and let herself be carried away by menial tasks. At that moment, a new song served as a soundtrack to her duties: it was “Jane Says”, by Jane's Addiction; she had heard of them recently playing on the radio and she ran out looking for a cassette tape to record the song while in the first few seconds. It didn't matter that she had lost a couple of seconds of the track: the best things are discovered like that, by chance, and this loss was material proof of it.

The club room was already empty after four o’clock, except for her, who always stayed late to lock up the place and take care of the last details. It was during this moment of distraction that someone came in and suddenly took away her headphones, causing her to look up in annoyance. It was Sasuke Uchiha, from the swimming team. She knew they were neighbors, but frankly, she couldn't imagine why he was there. — Hey! — she said, taking the headphones back.

— Sorry, I’ve been trying to get your attention for a couple of minutes… — Sasuke said, very casually, as he observed the shelves full of books, carefully and meticulously organized — Anyway, I need a favor from you. I wanna know who Charlotte Rimbaud is.

—And why do you think I would know? — Hinata replied, without looking up from her papers.

— Because you are editor-in-chief of the newspaper and president of the journalism and literature club. Nothing is published without your approval. — what his tone of voice meant was: I'm not as stupid as you think.

— This means that I read what people submit for publication and I serve as a quality filter, that's all. Besides, has it ever occurred to you that anyone who is writing under a pseudonym is because they don't want to be recognized?

— Yes, but I need to know. I swear, I won't tell anyone, Hinata... I just need to know this.

She got up from her chair, taking the sheets of documents with her and giving a final tidy to a book that was slightly crooked on the shelf. — I can't help you, I'm sorry.

— A name, and I'll do everything else. She'll never know you told me. — the boy asked, blocking the path by placing himself in front of the door.

Hinata didn't give up, and turned the door handle anyway, forcing her way through. — I don't know if you've already considered the possibility, but not all the girls at this school are stupid enough to fall for your bullshit. — having said that, she put her headphones back on and, once they were both in the hallway, she locked the room and went to the principal’s office to deliver the documents. Meanwhile, Sasuke remained leaning against the wall, trying to come up with a plan to convince her to spill the beans.

(...)

— She didn't even want to hear what I had to say. She said she couldn't help me and that was that. And worse, she even said that not every girl in that school would fall for my bullshit! Can you believe it?

On the other end of the line was Naruto, who laughed at that crazy conversation. It was the first time he saw Sasuke Uchiha defeated to the point of not even being able to recognize it. —And is she wrong, dattebayo ? One time or another you were gonna fall off your high horse…

— I'm serious. I need to know who Charlotte is, and Hinata is my chance.

— One thing you already know, she's a woman, from what Hinata said... Why don't you try asking someone else at the club, 'ttebayo ?

— I've already tried: I spoke to Shino Aburame, and he said he didn't know anything. Sakura laughed right at me and said it's good that Hinata roasted me, so I can stop being an asshole. Kiba told me he didn't know anything either, but he looked so nervous that I suspect he’s lying…

— Then just go after Kiba and that's it, dattebayo .

— I tried, but he said that if I'm smart I'll get it, and that's it. After that, he hung up on me and he won’t answer my calls at all... And at school, he's avoiding me like crazy, I don’t know what else to do.

— Seems like nothing will come out of it then, dattebayo .

— My only option is Hinata. She has to give in at some point, right?

— I don't know, you know her better than me, 'ttebayo . Is she the type to crack under pressure?

Hell no, that's what Sasuke thought. They might not have been that close, but he knew that Hinata was as tough as nails, and when she got an idea in her head, there was no way to convince her otherwise: he remembered well when the school management tried to close the newspaper, and she just didn’t oppose it, she actually started the most successful publication right around that time and then managed to get a petition signed by the entire student body to convince the administration against closing down the newspaper. That's exactly how Charlotte Rimbaud's first story came about: out of spite. — Yeah, no, maybe that's not the best strategy... But I think you gave me an idea, so thanks anyway.

(...)

The following week, Kiba brought a stack of letters and left them on Hinata's desk, as she worked on the layout of the first page of the next edition very carefully. That broke her concentration, and she immediately questioned him. — What’s that?

— Letters from an admirer to Charlotte Rimbaud. He insists that they should be published in the newspaper for her to see. At first, I thought it was a prank, but we already have about fifteen stored in a drawer; it just seems like way too much work for a joke... By now, he should have given up if he wasn't serious. Wanna give it a read? — Kiba said, bringing the pile closer to her.

— No. As far as I'm concerned, you can throw it all away. — she replied, impassively.

— He said he won't stop sending until Charlotte answers him. He seems to be a pretty big fan.

She took the first one from the pile and opened the envelope.

“To Charlotte R.,

There's no one at this school who's a bigger fan of yours than me. I will continue sending letters until you answer, no matter how long it takes: you don't have to say your name if you don't want to, but I have so many questions and so much curiosity that knowing more about you would be enough. One word from you will silence me forever, I hope you know that, but for that you need to say a word — your silence is distressing.

Who are you, anyway? What do you like to do, to read? What kind of music do you listen to? What kind of TV programs do you watch? How do you manage to write your stories like that, so easily? What do you hide?”

— They're not signed, but the handwriting is the same, so they must be from the same person. — the Inuzuka said.

— You can throw it away. — Hinata replied, without hesitation. She felt her fists clench as she tried to control her reactions.

But Kiba had known her for way too long to see through that disguise. — Are you sure you don't want to read the others? They're not signed, like I said, but if I had to bet on a name, I think we both already know who it is, right?

— Sasuke’s an asshole, that's all. He just can't stand not having what he wants.

— And you're gonna let him send letters forever?

— He'll get tired soon and give up on this idea, and we'll be free of the problem.

— No, we will be pretending that the problem doesn’t exist, and that’s two completely different things. If I were you, I’d fix this.

With that said, he walked away from the table. They were the last two in the room, and soon, Kiba left her alone, while Hinata wrote down her response to a certain very persistent admirer on a piece of paper.

(...)

— She wrote back to me, can you believe it?

The excitement was noticeable in Sasuke's voice after he saw the small white envelope inside his locker. It wasn't signed or anything, but who else could it be? It had to be Charlotte! His insistence was certainly worth the price.

— And what did she say, dattebayo ? — Naruto asked, curious.

— I don't know, I haven't opened it yet… — the Uchiha unceremoniously tore open the envelope and then found the message that was there.

“If one word would silence you forever, I hope fourteen are more than enough.

Charlotte Rimbaud”

Naruto burst into infectious laughter, while his friend remained in disbelief. — Wow, what a woman… And she does have a sharp tongue, doesn’t she, ‘ttebayo ?

Sasuke, however, remained silent, still in shock. He had never imagined that his strategy would backfire…

Trying to cheer him up, his friend hugged him, patting the Uchiha on the back as they both walked to math class. — Give up on this while you're still on top, man. Actually, you’re not on top of it now, damn, dattebayo… !

— Your optimism impresses me. — the other boy grumbled. The classroom was still empty, as the bell hadn't rung, but little by little students began to arrive.

Naruto wasn't satisfied yet, of course, and needed to poke at the wound some more. — If you want, my mom has some Bonnie Tyler records to help you out, 'ttebayo , like “Total Eclipse of the Heart”, you know?

In the chair in front of Sasuke, sat the last person he wanted to see at that moment, Hinata Hyuuga, who arrived accompanied by Sakura Haruno, also part of the newspaper team. This certainly only worsened his mood, which became increasingly noticeable even to those who knew nothing about the situation. Like a good friend, Naruto added fuel to the fire: — Hey, girls, guess who just got dumped, dattebayo ?

If looks could kill, Naruto would be doomed by now...

— Do you have anything to do with this, Sakura? Talking shit about me to Charlotte would be very low of you... — the Uchiha said.

— You act like I need to talk shit about you to anyone, you worthless womanizer. — Haruno said, laughing, without having any real intention of offending him with the insults. The truth is that they both knew that he wasn't that bad, and that Sasuke Uchiha even had a smidge of ethics in dismissing suitors who didn't interest him and being straightforward in admitting that he didn't want anything serious. Not that that made him any less of a womanizer, of course.

— Maybe you should just give up. — Hinata said, very directly, as she put away her headphones and walkman in her backpack.

Sasuke sighed, regretfully. —That's what I'm gonna do. I promised her, didn't I? One word from you would silence me forever, as good old Mr. Darcy would say.

— I didn't know you liked Jane Austen.

— There's a lot you don't know about me, Hinata. Contrary to what Sakura thinks, I'm not a worthless piece of trash, no, at least not completely.

At least they both agreed on that. Part of ourselves is always hidden, like the dark side of the moon, and the face we show to the world is not always the face that represents us when we are alone. And sometimes we get this glimpse of who someone is when no one else is looking, which can be as surprising as swim team star Sasuke Uchiha reading “Pride and Prejudice” in his free time.

(...)

The remaining days of the month went away faster than they could imagine, and soon Halloween was knocking on the door, as was the promise of November. As promised, Sasuke didn't send any more letters to the newspaper's editorial office, and things seemed to be calmer, shrouded in the same haze of sameness as always. To his surprise, however, one rainy Tuesday morning an envelope appeared in his locker.

“If you still want to talk, Mr. Darcy, perhaps I will have some free time to read what you have to say. And, to answer your questions:

My favorite hobbies are reading and writing — my favorite book, as you may have already guessed, is “A Season in Hell”, by Arthur Rimbaud, a good last name for a pseudonym, don't you think? I like alternative music and my favorite artist is David Bowie. I don't watch much television, but I like watching new releases on MTV and watching movies, especially horror ones — my favorite is “Halloween”, even though I find the endless sequels detestable and just way too weak compared to the original. As for my writing process… I write the world as it is, beyond the appearances of normality, or as it should be; I like things that are interesting and out of the ordinary.

Charlotte R.”

To say that that letter had made him happy would be to underestimate his reaction: Sasuke Uchiha was ecstatic , and could barely control the stupid and stubborn smile on his face. It would be difficult to concentrate on training today, as he realized as he walked onto the school gymnasium. The place was almost empty, with few people watching the training sessions: winter was approaching and despite the pool being heated, it was still unbearably cold in the gym due to the lack of thermal insulation; it was probably the same feeling as getting inside a refrigerator, if he had to bet...

The coach, at the end, praised his performance and said that whatever had increased his motivation, it was good to keep close by — a thought that the Uchiha obviously agreed with.

Sitting down on one of the benches next to the bleachers, he saw a familiar figure, writing in a notebook. It was Hinata, and she didn't notice him until he was sitting next to her. — Writing much, huh?

This scared her and almost made her drop the notebook between the gaps in the seats. — Damn, Sasuke, what kind of idea, ugh…!

— Relax, I didn’t wanna scare you, I’ve just never seen you around here.

— Kiba is sick and someone needs to cover this fortnight's sports column, he's left to me, of course. — she explained, closing the notebook — What do you want?

— Nothing… But Charlotte answered me. I hope you don't mind if I send another letter to the editorial office, I don't know any other way of talking to her right now.

— It’s fine. — no questions, no complaints. This surprised him but in a positive way.

The one who actually had questions was Sasuke, who looked at the large mirror with an intricate, baroque-style frame, next door. — Is that yours?

— Yeah, a lady was throwing it out this morning, on my way here, and I brought it to take home later, Shino promised he would help me after he finished developing the pictures for the next edition. — she explained, tracing the arabesques on the frame with her fingertips. Thin, pale, and delicate fingers, like those of a pianist: Sasuke sometimes heard someone in the house next door playing, and now he was sure it was her.

Taking the mirror in his arms (which was quite heavy, he had to admit), he stood up and started down the steps. — Come on, I'll help you with this.

— I-it’s okay, Shino… — Hinata still tried to argue.

— Will take a long time, because developing photographs takes a long time. I know because my brother is a photographer, and I've seen him do it a million times.

The girl didn't answer, hiding her face inside the red scarf she wore, almost as red as her cheeks. Sasuke walked beside her, wondering how she had managed to carry that heavy thing to school, and where she could have stored it (probably in the club room, because it definitely wouldn't fit in the locker, it was too tall and large). What a determined mind, certainly…

Good thing the house was close by... Soon, they arrived at the Hyuuga family's yellow house, the one with sunflowers planted near the front window, from where it was possible to see the piano in the living room. — T-thank you... You don't have to be so nice to me, you know? I wouldn't ask for anything in return for letting you send the letters, you know...

— I know, and I know that I don't need to be nice to you or anyone else: I just wanna be. — Sasuke said, with a small smile of satisfaction. He was a person who didn't smile much — Are you sure you don't need help putting this up on the wall?

— No, my dad can help me with that, he should be getting home by now. Thank you, really, Sasuke.

It might not have seemed like much, but those simple words made a strong impression on Sasuke and, if he could describe it, he would have said that they melted his cold heart a little. There's a lot of beauty in being simple and to the point, and Hinata Hyuuga sure has a way with words, a certain firmness of character, he thought, as he walked into the house as well. It was a funny thought to have, accompanied also by a vague feeling of déjà vu .

(...)

Night fell and, for the first time in months, Sasuke heard the sound of the piano next door. First, someone playing a few stray notes, and then a familiar melody: "Clair de Lune", by Debussy. His mother, particularly, liked this piece: Mikoto, who was cooking dinner, stopped what she was doing for the next few minutes to listen to the music. Sasuke walked down the stairs and stood next to her, carefully savoring each of the notes, and the emotion behind them.

— Hinata plays so well. It's a shame she barely has time to play now... — his mother said, sighing deeply.

— I know. — Sasuke replied, in a tone of melancholy that he couldn't understand and, for the first time, there was a flash of pain in his heart, as if something was missing, and he couldn't understand exactly what it was.

He returned to his room after the song ended, still surrounded by a magical mist, which left him intoxicated. I wish I could’ve sat next to Hinata while she played, and recorded the song to listen to it countless times, or until the cassette tape fell apart from being used so much, just to be able to replicate the magic of that short moment a little bit more. He wrote, motivated by a hallucinated fervor, everything he wanted to say to Charlotte Rimbaud.

(...)

Half of October was gone in the blink of an eye, and the second fortnight would bring another publication of the newspaper, which Sasuke was very much looking forward to. Something had broken the ice between him and Hinata, which certainly surprised some and seemed expected by others, since they were now walking together, talking, to and from school, and he seemed to be hanging around the journalism and literature club more often than ever. The letters he exchanged with Charlotte became longer and longer, and he increasingly longed for answers.

It was a cold Friday afternoon when they were walking back home through an empty street. They knew that winter was approaching just from how the sky turned gray and dark so early, and the trees no longer had leaves on their branches.

— When are you gonna play again? — he asked, as they crossed the street towards the opposite sidewalk.

— Well, today, I guess? I don't know. Why? — the girl replied, while dodging a puddle of water, getting closer to Sasuke.

— If you’re gonna play "Clair de Lune" again, I want to record it. It's my favorite, and recently you've been playing it more often, I like it. My mom likes it when you play too, she always stops cooking to listen to you.

Hinata giggled shyly. — I can look for a cassette tape with the music already recorded by a professional pianist, I mean... It would be better than trying to use a recorder, I think the acoustics in my room aren't that good, and also, if I make a mistake...

— But it's different when you play. There's soul in every note, you know? Hard to explain.

She went silent for a moment, staring at the ground. — You know, it's funny you say that, because I think there's a little bit of me in that particular song. Not because I put my soul there, but because it has always been there , maybe even before I was born… Have you ever had the experience of recognizing something when you see it for the first time? Like déjà vu ... When I heard "Clair de Lune" for the first time, that's how I felt, as if I had already heard it somewhere, and suddenly the image of each note and my fingers playing the piano keys came into my head, even though it was long before I started playing, long before I understood anything about music. I just knew. My grandmother used to say that I was a peculiar child, an old soul, and maybe she was right about that, because I dreamed of the familiarity of old evening dresses and the glitz of the Belle Epoque , as if I had lived through it all and there was still a thread that tied me to the past, when I used to attend balls and waltz... — she paused and smiled — Or maybe I was just a very imaginative child and obsessed with a random historical period.

— My brother once told me that this reincarnation thing is probably true and that when we like people for no apparent reason it's because our souls have always attracted each other, gravitating around each other like planets around the sun. I found it very beautiful. I think he, like you, is also an old soul, and I am brand new, as modern as a color television. — Sasuke said, with a crooked smile — By the way, has anyone ever told you that you have a way with words? Right now, it’s like I felt a déjà vu too, as if I had already heard not those exact words, not those ideas, but this way, this soul behind it...

Pausing for a minute, suddenly Sasuke Uchiha felt terribly stupid, and realized the truth behind that almost comical situation: Kiba was right when he said that if he was smart he would get everything, and it seems that this thought had only occurred to him now. Arthur Rimbaud, who lived during the Belle Epoque, was an old soul just like the little Charlotte he finally met in person. — Charlotte... You're Charlotte, aren't you?

Giving up, the Hyuuga hid a little further inside the red scarf, as scarlet as she was. — Well... It looks like we've finally met, right, Mr. Darcy?

[bluepriestess]

Thank you two for the tags! @bokatan @kyngsnake!!

I see a lot of people have been tagged already so if you want to do it, then I tag you 🫵

OC Meme

Name: Summer Meadows

Nickname/Alias: Sunny, Sunshine, Wildflower, ‘Hey Asshole’, Pink Bitch

Gender: Demigirl

Star sign: Cancer (July 13th, 2258)

Height: 5’3”/160CM

Orientation: Bi

Nationality: American

Favorite fruit: Banana Yucca, she brought a lot home after HH dlc, and planted some in goodsprings and in a little garden she made for Freeside

Favorite season: Spring, it’s not too hot, not too cold

Favorite flower: Mexican Primroses, Sego Lilies, and Sand Verbenas

Favorite scent: Specifically the scent of her bandana after she’s washed it, and also vanilla lol

Coffee, tea, or hot chocolate: Tea, I feel like James wouldn’t have wanted her to get hooked on coffee so he started her on tea once she started asking for stuff to help her stay awake for class in the vault lol

Average hours of sleep: 4-6 hours when she is out and about, can take small cat naps when she needs, but when she’s at the lucky 38, she can sleep up to 12 hours just cause she’s so exhausted lol

Dog or cat person: she may be a ‘golden retriever gf’, but she lovessssss cats

Dream trip: Somewhere with lots of (swimmable) water, she loves swimming but there really isn’t anywhere for her to do that without it being too irradiated or gross

Number of blankets they'd choose to sleep with: she naturally runs super warm so just a standard thickness blanket will suffice

Random fact: professional gymnast level flexibility and dexterity, earning her the nickname ‘ring tail’ from James (like a ring tailed lemur lol)

[rainbow-string-tied-me-to-you]

Lyrics from 1989TV Vault that made me feel insane

Aquamarine, moonlit swimming pool/What if all I need is you? (The "Need" usage in 1989tv is gonna kill me, I swear)

Love thorns all over this rose/I’ll pay the price, you won't (DOUBLE STANDARDS AHHHHHHHHHHH)

And if they call me a slut/You know it might be worth it for once (STOP! STOP RIGHT NOW, TAYLOR MOTHER FREAKING SWIFT)

Everyone wants him, that was my crime (GOLD RUSH AHHHHH)

In a world of boys, he's a gentleman (YEAH, HE IS. THAT'S MY BOY. Also, Taylor can never drag Harry without saying something nice first lmao)

I've known it from the very start/We’re a shot in the darkest dark (HELLO, GETAWAY CAR???)

I’m standin' on a tightrope alone/I hold my breath a little bit longer (Not the mirrorball reference)

'Cause you kiss mе and it stops time/And I'm yours, but you're not mine (KILLED ME, I'M DEAD ON THE FLOOR)

I'm tryna see the cards that you won't show/I'm about to fold unless you (FINE LINE REFERENCE AHHH)

I said, "I love you" (I said, "I love you")/You say nothing back (HARRY FREAKING STYLES, YOU MASSIVE DONUT)

You went to a party/I heard from everybody/You part the crowd like the Red Sea (She said "Moses")

Remind myself the morе I gave, you'd want me less (STOP, I'M ALREADY DEAD AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH)

I cannot bе your friend, so I pay the price of what I lost/And what it cost, now that we don't talk (To be so lonely parallelssjnckjsdbnjsd)

What do you tell your friends we/Shared dinners, long weekends with? (REMINDED ME OF CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS' "How evergreen our group of friends/Don't think we'll ever say that word again")

I don't have to pretend I like acid rock/Or that I'd like to be on a mega yacht/With important men who think important thoughts (YACHT GATE)

You had people who called you on unmarked numbers/In my peripheral vision/I let it slide like a hose on a slippery plastic summer (HARRY YOU SON OF A BTCH!!! Also, reminded me of that scene from blank space mv)

You were so magnetic it was almost obnoxious (GORGEOUS AND GOLD RUSH PARALLELS)

When you hold me, it holds me together/And you kiss me in a way that's gonna screw me up forever (Wtf Taylor?? 😭😭😭)

I had the fantasy that maybe our mismatched star signs/Would surprise the whole school/When I ended up back at our class reunion/Walkin' in with you (AhHhHhHhHhHhHh there's still time please 😭😭😭 Also, someday parallels with the lyrics "Someday maybe when we're old and gray/We could be in love once more/'Til then I won't give my love away/Darling, I'm forever only yours) I broke my own heart 'cause you were too polite to do it (I'm gonna off myself)

I dash to the door/You don't knock anymore and my whole life's ruined (hits different parallels "I heard your key turn in the door down the hallway/Is that your key in the door?/Is it okay? Is it you?/Or have they come to take me away?/To take me away" I see your profile and your smile on unsuspecting waiters (the 1 parallels)

You dream of my mouth before it called you a lying traitor/You search in every model's bed for somethin' greater, baby (JDK VKJD KS KJNSVDKKJDBVKJSFN HE'S DEAD AGAIN)

Whеn you lost control (Uh-huh)/Red blood, white snow (Uh-huh)/Blue dress on a boat (Uh-huh)/Your new girl is my clone (HARRY STYLES SHOT DEAD AGAIN)

Oh, Lord, I think about jumpin'/Off of very tall somethings/Just to see you come running/And say the one thing I've been wanting, but no (Oh my god she said suicide just to spite you)

If she's got blue eyes, I will surmise that you'll probably date her (Oh no) (THE FACTS AHHHHHHHH HAHAHAHAHAHHA)

[yearningagain]

don't let me drown (part two!)

FINALLY got around to making a part two to this! should i put it on AO3 maybe? lmk!!!

PART ONE, [PART TWO]

Eddie hated the smell of chlorine.

They had decided to come in that Friday after Max’s camp to tour before her first class, not only to ease Eddie's nerves, but to keep Max’s excited momentum. The entire aquatic center smelled like it, and he could tell it would stick to his clothes. They had only just walked through the front door, Max bouncing with each step, her excitement obvious.

A woman with short strawberry blonde hair sat at the front desk, typing intently while almost glaring at the computer screen in front of her. As Eddie and Max approached, she quickly glanced their way.

“Hi! Give me one moment please, our system is being all wonky.” She aggressively pressed enter on her keyboard a few times with a scowl before turning her attention to them.

“Alrighty, sorry about that! What can I do for you?”

Eddie laughed lightly before responding. “It’s okay, no worries! Uh- I called earlier this week about signing Max up for lessons, and we wanted to see if we could get a quick tour before Monday?”

Max popped her head up, staring at the woman intently. “I’m gonna learn how to swim, I think!” She said with a huge grin.

“Ah, you must be Max!” Robin said, matching Max's grin before turning to Eddie. “And you must be Eddie! I’m Robin! Nice to meet you both!” She glanced at her watch. “Hold on one sec, I’m gonna grab someone to watch the desk so I can give you a tour.” She got up from her chair and went through a door, presumably to the staff room, before a short redhead emerged to take her place.

Robin came through a side door and looped around to meet them. “That’s Vickie, our other front desk operator and also one of our lifeguards, when needed!” Vickie gave a short smile and wave, turning to the computer.

“You guys can follow me!” Robin turned and walked towards what seemed to be a small café. “This is our Snack Shack! There's smoothies, soda, water, and gatorade to drink and all sorts of different snacks as well as hotdogs and hamburgers.”

Eddie nodded along, giving a short wave to the bored looking staff member at the counter. Robin turned and walked past the front desk to a stairwell. “This is the stairs to the pools. The locker rooms are to the right at the bottom. We’ll pass the instructional pool, but I’ll show you that one last.”

As they descended the stairs, they passed a doorway with a few parents loitering around, going through a bigger glass door to a huge pool.

“This is our competition pool for our swim team, but it's also used for open lap swim when there isn’t practice or a competition.” They breezed past, Eddie struggling to keep up with Robin and Max while he marveled at the size.

They passed through another doorway with both glass doors propped open, revealing another pool. This one was smaller, but not by much, and had a huge inflatable slide in it while being full of children.

“This is our program pool! It can be rented out for parties, like it is now, but it's also used for the more advanced swim lessons, open swim, and the junior swim team. People can also rent inflatables for parties from us, hence the giant slide!” Robin said, gesturing wildly.

Max gasped and tugged on Eddie's pant leg. “Dad, can I please have my next birthday party here? Please? Pretty please?” She begged with the biggest puppy dog eyes.

Eddie sighed loudly, Robin giggling quietly. “We’ll see, bug. You have to learn how to swim first.” Max nodded, pulling away with a determined look.

“Can we keep going, Miss Robin?” She asked, already walking towards the next set of doors.

At that, Robin gave a hearty laugh and continued walking. “Of course, Miss Max!” She pushed open the metal doors to an outdoor pool. “The last pool before the instructional pool, outdoors! This one is for private adult lessons, training, and open swim. Definitely our most popular for open swim.” Robin continued walking parallel to the building, revealing yet another set of doors.

“This place is huge.” Eddie muttered, earning a laugh from Robin.

“The biggest and the best! The outdoor pool actually opened just last year, so it's attracted a lot more people,” She leaned towards Eddie to whisper, “which was our goal.”

Eddie looked down at Max, immediately melting at her awestruck face. “What do you think so far, Max? You like it?”

Max turned towards her father, eyes lit up in astonishment. “I love it. I love you, Dad. Thank you!” She rushed towards Eddie to give his legs the biggest hug she could muster.

“I love you more, sunshine. C’mon, let's see where you’ll be learning!” He said, patting her head.

Robin stood by the doors, waiting patiently for their little pow wow. “Miss Max, would you like to open the doors for the big reveal?”

Immediately, Max rushed to the doors and pushed with all her might, revealing the instructional pool. As the group made their way inside, Eddie couldn't help but notice the prettiest man he’d ever seen in his life standing by the side of the pool in swim shorts with the center logo and a towel draped around his neck, surrounded by small children.

If this is the instructor, I am definitely going to sit in on every lesson, Eddie thought to himself.

“So this is our last stop, where you’ll be taking your lessons!” Robin said as Max looked around.

“‘S so small…” The girl said, a hint of disappointment in her voice.

Robin kneeled down to Max’s level. “Well, Max, you’re small. And in order to keep you safe while you learn, the pool has to be smaller so we can watch out for you. Once you learn and get bigger, you’ll be able to swim in the big pools!”

Max nodded, walking around the pool as if to inspect it. “M’kay, I guess.”

Robin stood up, following her. She cupped her hands around her mouth to shout, “Coach Harrington!”

The small crowd of children and lingering parents had dispersed, leaving Coach Harrington sitting in a metal folding chair. He winced at the sudden loud noise. “Geez, Robin, there's no need to shout so loud! You're like eight feet away!”

Eddie had never heard such a fitting voice. It was as handsome as him, slightly deep and very expressive.

Robin only grinned as she approached. “You’ve got some newcomers to meet.” The coach stood, glancing behind her, meeting Eddie's eyes (and turning a touch pink in the face) before looking at Max.

“Hello! I’m Coach Harrington, what’s your name?” He said, crouching a bit.

Max stuck out her hand for a handshake. “I’m Max! ‘N I’m gonna learn how to swim!”

Coach Harrington laughed lightly and shook her hand, despite it being larger by far. “Very nice to meet you, Max! I can tell you’re excited! I can’t wait to see how you do!”

He stood up, meeting the man's eyes once again. Eddie stuck his hand out in a similar fashion, trying to hide his slight blush. “I’m Eddie, Max’s dad. Nice to meet you, Coach Harrington.”

“Call me, Steve. Nice to meet you, too, Eddie.” Steve said with a small smile, grasping Eddie’s hand in a firm shake. His hands were warm for someone who just got out of a pool, and almost completely dry. Eddie stared at their hands dumbly before pulling away and shoving his hands in his pocket. Close up, he could see the abs, the chest hair, and the moles littering his face and chest. He wondered how far they went before shaking his head slightly as if to shake the thought away.

Robin clapped, startling the two men. “Alrighty! So, Max here will be in the 1A class three times a week. Now that you guys have met, we can head back upstairs!” She gave Steve an intense look before heading towards the door to the stairwell. Max and Eddie followed, with a final “I’m gonna blow your socks off, Coach Harrington!” That earned her a laugh from the coach that warmed Eddie from the inside out.

As they made their way to the front desk, Eddie turned to Robin. “Is… is he gonna be the instructor every time?”

She looked at him and smiled knowingly. “For now, yes. I think I mentioned our other instructor being on leave, and he’s still got a bit before he comes back. Steve is great though, promise.”

Eddie blushed, covering his face with some of his hair. Returning to the front desk, Robin turned to Max.

“You think you’re ready for Monday?” She asked, smirking at the child.

Max was undeterred, nodding determinedly once again. “I’m gonna swim so good. I know it.”

Turning to Eddie, Robin asked, “How about you? Ready for Monday?”

Eddie nodded as well, though with more hesitancy.

“Ready as I’ll ever be, I guess.”