#also I’ve been very flustered/nervous in the last week bc of this so

[myokk]

I wanted to share the tattoo I did yesterday!!

I really enjoyed the process🥹🫶 My “normal” art is generally a lot more detailed and time-consuming than these fanarts…something I genuinely LOVE is just spending lots of time focusing on the small details & forgetting everything else.

I’m overall really happy with how this turned out, I’ve been practicing A LOT😳 but even so, pork skin isn’t the same as a living, breathing human. I think this design might have been a BIT too complicated to be my first one but oh well…I learned a lot and pushing myself off the deep end is always how I learn best😆😆😤🙏

[yesimwriting]

hi, i love all your work! could i please request headcanons for what it'd be like to go from being enemies to lovers with nikolai lantsov.

thank you:)

A/N maybe i moved this up on my request lists bc i woke up today and went 'nikolai lantsov'

--

- i'm being a little liberal with cannon bc my mind first went to 'princess! reader who hates nikolai bc they're competitive and then they have to team up together to try to get their parents to break up their arranged marriage but fall in love in the process (this might be a little undetailed but i'm thinking of writing a full fic or mini-series with this plotline so let me know if you'd be interested!! i could see a smutty ending to that fic but idk,, lmk what you thing ig lol)

- Ok so first off enemies to lovers with the loml nikolai lantsov would be SO GOOD bc he's so dramatic and obviously attractive so even though you hate him you know he's hot,, there's never a dramatic realization that he's attractive bc it's just a fact

- butttt you'd rather give up any claim you have to your family's throne than feed his already gigantic ego

- okk but lets get to the beginning of your enemies to lovers relationship

- so basically every summer your parents go and stay with Nikolai's family at this super fancy vacation home bc your parents are both royalty and your kingdoms have a very healthy relationship

- just bc it's the summer season doesn't mean it's summer vacation,, so as children for about a month you two share a tutor,, and when i tell you that created a rivalry so fast i mean it

- you're not the eldest princess and you're always trying to be the best for your parents approval, nikolai just wanted to impress the really smart girl who had a pretty laugh (poor nikolai lol,, he had no way of knowing how important being the best in school no matter what was to your self esteem)

- maybe if you two could communicate you’d like each other a little better at this point but it starts when you’re pretty young and by the time you’re like 13 it’s a solidified dynamic (and 13 year olds are the MEANEST and most insecure people in the world so that’s when your relationship turns to full enemies)

- now that you’re 13 you have more princess-y requirements, especially over the summer. So when you see that Nikolai gets to practice with swords and gets more free time while you have to practice setting tables you hate him more than ever. 

- Nikolai senses that you’re extra hostile but he has no idea why,, he tries asking once but he makes a joke about how ‘maybe you’re jealous bc youre no longer the center of my attention’ and even though he’s just trying to ease the tension you feel like he’s making fun of you

- so that’s when things get aggressive, but at that point summer is almost over so it’s whatever

- next summer comes and you’re still SO MAD at him,, so when you get to the estate you’re like ‘i’m not even talking to him idc how quiet these next three months are’ 

- and you get there all determined to hate him,, but once you get there and see him something in you cracks bc he had the audacity to spend the last year going through puberty AND LIKE HE’S ALWAYS BEEN CUTE BUT THIS IS SOMETHING ELSE 

- so youre mentally panicking bc how do you even talk to someone that looks like that now???? but then you remember that you didnt even want to talk him so in a panic youre like ‘maybe i can avoid him and he’ll just assume it’s bc i hate him bc i do,, who cares if he’s unbelievably hot now’ 

- nikolai doesn’t assume anything, he just gets to the estate and is like ‘why hasn’t she insulted me yet?? is she suddenly too good to give me attention?’ so during the lessons that you still share he gets an idea

- he decides to one-up you in everything bc that’s always gotten a reaction out of you 

- it works,, every time he corrects you or steals an answer from you, you’re ready to snap but then you look at him and take in his stupidly perfect face and  you just shut up 

- nikolai thinks it’s not working so he just tries harder

- by the end of week one you can’t take it anymore so when the tutor leaves at the end of lessons you snap, you tell him off for how often he’d repeat what you said and change a few words and get all the praise from the tutor

- on the inside he’s like ‘took long enough’ but the more you rant he’s like ‘is she okay???’ he’d be more concerned if you weren’t threatening his pride and at this point he’s still annoyed bc if you were that annoyed you should have just talked to him instead of ignoring him for a week

- he’s thinking that just bc you got really pretty over the last year doesn’t make you too good to yell at him on the daily

- the worst thing anyone can do to nikolai is ignore him LMAO (lowkey relatable)

- so he starts arguing with you and you’re so upset that you forget about how aggressively attractive he is 

- and you two are alone in this room and the more you argue the closer you two get

- the climax of the argument is when neither of you are yelling, you’re just so mad you’re beyond raising your voice and once you’re both at that point it goes like this: 

“Nikolai Lantsov, you are the most insufferable person I’ve ever met” 

“Well then, Darling, you should look in a mirror.” 

“You are so entitled, so ridiculously self obsessed that it ruins your attractiveness.” 

“...” he literally just like blinks twice. “You think I’m attractive?” 

“Uh? No--i didn’t say that at all, maybe if you didn’t have the language comprehension of a child you’d understa--” he just reaches forward, grabs the collar of your dress, and kisses you. 

- it’s your first kiss so you have no idea what you’re doing and it’s with some one you CANT STAND and you’re so mad bc you had expectations for your first kiss and he’s taken that from you--but the thing is,, 

- he’s good at it. Like really good at it. Like so good it makes you curious about what he does the nine months of the year he’s not stuck here with you bc there’s no way he hasn’t had practice. 

- but you’re also extremely confused and nervous and aware of how stupid you’re being (and a little hormonal bc being 14 isn’t easy) and then he places his hand on your cheek and that snaps some sense of reality into you bc it’s one thing to enjoy the kiss but another thing entirely to want him to escalate it

- so you place one hand on his chest and push him off of you slightly. He takes the hint, pulls away enough to look at you and then you two just stare at each other 

- your hand is still on his chest and you have absolutely no idea what comes next, but you find yourself looking at his lips

- since you haven’t slapped him or pulled away more than a few inches he thinks maybe things are okay so he leans forward slightly and kisses you again. 

- you reciprocate a little too fast, the kiss lasts two seconds before thinking about how insane you’re being so you push away entirely. 

- He lets you go,, and in the most awkward display ever you’re like ‘uh I need to go,, i can’t be late to ball preparation lessons’ and you leave that room faster than you’ve ever left a room in your entire life. 

- the next day you consider pretending to be sick to avoid him but that would only give him more power over the situation so you go,, and he’s just sitting there calmly

- youre on edge the entire day but he never even jokes about it

- a part of you is a tiny bit annoyed bc who kisses you and then pretends it never happened? but overall, you’re relieved 

- the days pass and it never comes up but now whenever you two argue you think of how quickly kissing him both shut him up and got rid of your tension 

- the summer goes by quickly, your usual dynamic has returned and you wonder if he even remembers kissing you. twice. in a row. 

- the next couple of years are normal,, even when you two no longer take lessons together you still dont like him. He’s just so assured and he takes such joy in bothering you. 

- and then one summer your parents sit you down and they’re like ‘we need to plan the future alliance of our kingdom’ 

- you’re a little confused bc you’re rarely allowed to sit in on these things bc you’re a girl and you’re basically meant to just be a royal’s bride--and then you realize why you’re there. 

- you start protesting before your father can finish announcing your engagement 

- the parents were smart bc they announced it at the end of summer so you two couldn’t drive them crazy or conspire

- the first thing you do when you get back to your castle is write to him for the first time ever 

- your letter is basically ‘pls tell me you’re doing something’ 

- the two of you talk until you come up with the plan to get your parents to break up your engagement 

- your parents dont really care about your feelings and they expect the two of you to argue with them,, but they care about the kingdoms

- so you two decide that if you act like youre so in love that you let your duties slip the engagement will end,, especially if you two are in love in a toxic way 

- so the next summer you two make sure to flirt and act like youre totally obsessed with each other and skip lessons together and just are constantly together and acting like you’re on a honeymoon

- your parents are like ?? since when 

- at one point you flirt with a random guard just so Nikolai can have a ‘jealous outburst’ while your families are strolling through the garden 

- ngl jealous nikolai had you ready to RISK IT ALL,, you were ready to drop the plan and marry him on the spot 

- he notices bc he notices everything about you and when your family walks away he gives you a quick kiss and youre stunned,, much to his delight 

- your desire to break up your engagement takes a slight backseat in your mind bc you decide to set off on a secret goal to make him flustered

- it doesn’t take much, your dresses get a little more risky, your comments get a little more suggestive

- the only problem?? he seems to have his own personal goal and it’s to make you even more flustered than he is

- soon the two of you are lost in layers of pretend and competition

- when your parents are finally thinking about delaying the engagement and keeping you two away from each other until you calm down a little (i feel bad for them,, an entire summer of being surrounded by the ULTIMATE sexual tension) 

- you’re sad and you don’t know why bc this is what you wanted, but then Nikolai stands up and says that you two planned for this and he has the letters to prove it (he was ready to drop the receipts LMAO) and youre like ??what are you doing?

- and he says he’d rather marry you then never see you again bc now all he wants is to get know you bc he has no idea how he wasted so much time arguing with you 

- and you just meltttt but your in front of your entire family and his as well so you just sit there for a minute and then you tell him you feel the same way 

- but the summer’s over

- you kiss him before leaving and he says you’ll have to visit bc he can’t go an entire year without seeing your ‘pretty face’ 

- you promise to visit him soon

- your at home for exactly a day and a half before getting an invitation to visit him 

- you laugh bc the only way that letter could get to you that fast is if he mailed it before you even left 

- you say yes obviously,, and spend some time having a really cute fall-dating vibes together until you figure out how you really feel 

- and you feel like he makes your heart STOP and that’s why you hated him,, bc you didn’t like being vulnerable 

[procrastinatingsapphictrash]

Enough for me

Series masterlist

Word count: 1796

Genre: Fluff

Pairing: Natasha x gn!reader

Warnings: None (lmk if I need to add any)

Summary: You decide to tell Natasha how serious you are about your relationship and things don’t go exactly as you hoped but it’s still good.

A/n: Thank you to the multiple people who wanted another part in the mini flustered series that I’ve totally made up as I went along. Also I want to clarify that although this could be read as a part four to flustered it honestly isn’t super related so you can definitely read it seperately and it wouldn’t matter to the plot bc there is no plot besides soft nat. Also I don’t know if this one is any good because I didn’t edit as usual but hopefully you all enjoy!

You admire your work as you gaze out over the table you had just finished setting up. It had taken some work dragging a table all the way up to the roof and then having to make multiple trips to bring up all the plates, glasses, cutlery and food, not to mention the other things like candles you had set up. The effort was totally worth it in your opinion though because anything for Natasha was worth it.

You’ve spent a lot of time together since your first date and have gone on a couple more but so far all of your dates have been pretty casual and nobody on the team knows about you so you want to do something special to prove that you’re serious about her. Although looking up at the sky you realize you probably should have chosen another night and you cross your fingers that it doesn’t start to rain until after you’re done.

Your cell phone ringing interrupts you. “Tasha?” You answer it, looking at the caller id as you pick it up.

“Hi Y/n.” She responds. “So why am I supposed to call you?”

“What do you mean?” You ask, confused.

“You told me to call you at seven so I’m calling.” She says and you slap your hand up to your face because you can’t believe you forget that part of your plan.

“Right sorry, I forgot.” You tell her. “Anyways I need you to put on something nice and come up to the roof.”

“Mysterious, I like it.” She says which makes you smile. “I’ll be up there in five minutes.”

“Okay, see you then!” You respond before hanging up and panicking. You didn’t expect her to be so quick and five minutes really isn’t a lot of time. You still have approximately one hundred candles to light and you’re not sure that you can get it done on time. 

You run around, trying to be careful and not burn yourself, and start to light all the candles that were all over the ground surrounding the table and the pathway to the door. Just as you’re finishing lighting the last one and standing up the door to the roof opens and Natasha steps out. She’s gorgeous as always but you especially love this dress on her. It’s black like most things she wears and is tight fitting at the top but slowly gets looser until it flows around her legs. You love it because you can tell she’s dressing to look beautiful and not sexy which she only ever does if she’s letting her guard down (so not very often). You are well aware that your jaw is open and you’re blatantly staring but luckily she’s busy looking around at your setup so you have time to collect yourself.

“Do you like it?” You ask her.

“It’s beautiful.” She breaths in response.

“Not as beautiful as you.” You reply and it’s so cheesy that you nearly regret saying that but there’s a light blush on her face and she’s smiling so you smile back and take a seat at the table, gesturing for her to sit with you. 

“So what’s on the menu?” She asks lightly as she sits, still smiling.

“Just some paninis and lentil soup, hopefully it’s still warm.” You tell her.

“Well I’m sure it will be good either way.” She responds before taking a bite and moaning in delight. “It is amazing, thank you.”

“It’s my pleasure.” You say. “Now how about you tell me about your day?”

You listen attentively as she complains about paperwork and schedules and as she practically glows as she tells you about a new move she had used to take down Steve in training today. You love listening to her, it makes you happy that she likes talking about mediocre things with you and there’s a level of domesticity to it that makes your heart feel full. You just want to know everything about her, no matter how boring people deem it to be because it’s important to her and therefore it matters a lot to you.

You talk to her for hours comfortably as she continues to share but also asks you questions. There is never a lull in the conversation and you could listen to her voice forever. Eventually though, long after you both finish eating, the conversation dwindles to a comfortable silence. At least for her. You’re inwardly freaking out because you want to tell her exactly how much she means to you and although you think she’ll react well it’s not a guarantee. 

“What are you thinking about?” She asks, always observant. 

You gulp nervously but answer truthfully. “I’m thinking about how I am more serious about you than I’ve ever been about anyone before, even if it’s only been a few weeks.”

“I’m more serious about you than anyone too.” She replies. “But I think you already knew that.”

“I hoped so.” You tell her, continuing on your path since so far she is reacting well. “I was-I was thinking that maybe we could tell the others about us now, or at least stop hiding it and wait until they find out.”

“But I thought you were fine with it just being for us for now?” She asks, a frown tugging at your lips. Your heart sinks at her expression-you never meant to push boundaries that she wasn’t comfortable with yet.

“And I’m still fine with that.” You reassure her quickly. “I just thought it might be nice to tell the others but it’s totally cool if you aren’t okay with it.”

She stands up and starts to pace a little. “I don’t know what I want.”

“Hey, hey.” You stand up too and grab her gently by the arm so she stops and faces you. “It’s okay, we don’t have to do it, I just thought it would be nice so everyone knows how much I love you.”

Instead of calming her down your words only seem to make her more anxious. “You what? You-you love me?” She stutters out.

“Shit I am so sorry Natasha I promised not to rush you.” You immediately apologize, hoping that you didn’t mess things up to badly.

She picks her way through the candles carefully and sits down on the edge of the roof, her feet dangling over. You follow, sitting beside her, making sure you don’t accidentally do anything to further surprise her. She sits quietly, obviously deep in thought and you think as well. You know, or at least you hope, that Natasha won’t break up with you already because of this. You just wanted to give her a special night and the first part of it went great but you just had to push too far. You had promised that she would dictate the terms of the relationship when you had first asked her out but of course you weren’t able to follow through. You just wish that you could hear her thoughts so you could try to fix your mistakes. She stays silent and only speaks up after a few more agonizing minutes.

“I’m sorry-” She starts and you interrupt.

“It’s okay if you’re breaking up with me.” You say and she watches you with a strange look on her face.

“You just told me you love me-I’m not breaking up with you.” She tells you and you sigh in relief. “But I can’t say it back, not yet anyways.”

“That’s completely okay.” You reassure her, slightly disappointed but understanding and just happy she wasn’t breaking up with you.

“I want to but I can’t.” She explains, her face visibly upset, seeing a hint of your disappointment. “It just doesn’t work, I can’t say it, I’m sorry. But if you want to we can tell the team about us.” She turns away when she’s done, biting her lip, afraid of your reaction.

“Tasha. Tasha.” You say, waiting until she turns back to face you to continue. “We won’t do it unless you’re ready and it’s okay that you aren’t. I’m not going to take back my words, I do love you and being able to tell you that and be here with you is enough for me, you don’t need to do anything.”

She pauses a moment and you can’t read her expression so you start to get nervous. Maybe you should have taken back the ‘I love you’ part of your mini speech. Before you can overthink too much she throws herself at your side, wrapping her arms around your shoulders and resting her in the crook of your neck.

“Thank you.” She mumbles against your skin. “I’m sorry.”

“Don’t be, I’m happy with this because having you is enough for me because I love you.” You tell her, awkwardly un-wedging your arm from between your side and her body and wrapping it around her, rubbing her back in mindless patterns.

She shivers slightly, not from the cold. “Can you say that again?”

“What, I love you?” You ask, confused.

“Yeah.” She says, almost shyly, nodding her head against your neck.

“I love you.” You tell her, kissing the side of her head at an awkward angle. “I love you. I love you so much Tasha.”

You repeat it over and over for a few minutes, feeling as though your heart is going to burst. You no longer care that she can’t say it back because she has her reasons but she wants you to say it and she’s cuddling with you and you never want to let her go because this moment is so perfect. 

Unfortunately the weather has other plans and just as your words start to die out the sky open, a few small drops then a complete downpour. The soft glow that once covered the roof from the candles disappears as they go out, releasing smoke. You know you have to clean things up but you figure it can wait until morning, once things are drier, so you take Natasha’s hand and pull her up. She starts to run towards the door, helping you so you don’t step on the candles, giggling the whole way. Technically things hadn’t gone to plan, her not wanting to tell the team or say she loved you and it raining at the end, but those things don’t seem to matter when you see her bright smile, her hair plastered to her face but somehow looking as beautiful as ever. And it matters even less when she pulls you inside and immediately presses you to the door, kissing you hard. You’re more than happy to fulfill her request when she pulls away, asking for you to say it again. Anything to keep her happy and make her feel loved.

---

<<<previous chapter // next chapter>>>

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[cluelesslesbian]

i'm gonna have to apologize in advance for this one

but say this is a klance high-school au

• school has let out for the day and teens are rushing out of the building

• in more of the front of the crowd is lance, along with pidge and hunk

• lance is doing his daily ranting about mullet head who doesn't even care about his existence

• suddenly, pidge pulls them both aside, giving hunk a look

• he nods, grabbing at his phone without saying a word

• lance is just asking a million questions

• "what are you guys doing?"

• "why is no one saying anything??"

• "why are you pulling out your phone?"

• "is this revenge for what i did last week?"

• "i said i was sorry!"

• pidge shushes him, pointing over at keith, who's walking out of the school with his hands shoved in his pockets, head tilted down

• hunk starts playing a song on his phone

• but not any song

• he plays call me maybe

• pidge explains: "get your ass over there and give him your number all while singing along to the lyrics."

• "what?! you're insane!"

• "you wanted us to help, so we're helping."

• "...are you sure this'll work?"

• "trust us. it will."

• "like trusting you guys got me anywhere good."

• but, lance is curious and is willing to at least make some sort of attempt at asking him out

• it's better than nothing

• and at least anytime someone would ask them how they met, they'd have an interesting story to tell

• the music draws attention to more kids as hunk turns up the volume, giving lance a thumbs up as he walks over there

• keith looks over to see his crush walking up to him, wearing a nervous smile

• before he can ask what he wants

• or make an excuse to get the fuck out of there

• lance starts singing along to the main chorus

• along with hand gestures to go along with the lyrics

• he hands a folded up sticky note to keith after, his phone number scribbled inside

• giving keith a wink before rushing back over to his friends, trying to snatch pidge's phone to stop recording

• keith just stands there

• not noticing that shiro was honking the horn at him

• he snapped out of it when hearing his name getting called

• lance was relieved to see that keith had texted back

• it only took him three days to gain the courage to send a simple "hi."

• now keith and lance will never look at call me maybe the same

• even when years passed as they're together

• the song playing always brings them back to that one moment that started it all during high-school

again, i'm not sure what this is. hopefully it's kind of entertaining?

— 🌙 moon anon

OK FUN FACT?? I ADORE HIGH SCHOOL AUS?????

Teenagers are just so dumb I love how easy it is for you to do spontaneous (read: iconic) things just because your friends encourage you to 😌👌👌👌

also ok ok I JUST REALLY LOVE THIS??

Pidge and Hunk devising crazy strategies for Lance bc they've been studying Keith's reactions to songs that play over the PA system/in their gym class (idk my school did both)

Pidge: waitwaitwait Hunk look- Keith's nodding his head to Party In The USA... I THINK HE LIKES POP MUSIC!

Hunk: GASP- Lance loves singing pop! *turns to Pidge* We can use this!!

and thus the garrison trio shenanigans ensued...

Flashforward to the scene you've described:

Shiro honked that horn to save Keith from embarrassing himself even more. That kid looked like a deer in headlights and he had to help...but that doesn't stop him from teasing Keith endlessly for making friends and wooing what seemed like a nice kid <3

In the car:

Shiro: Soo who's your boyfriend? He's pretty smooth if he managed to get you to freeze like that lol

Keith, flustered: asdSDFJHLK-SHUTUPYOUSAWNOTHING

Shiro, very casually: Ooooh yeah no. I totally didn't see you checking out his ass when he left-

Keith, a lil hysterical tbh: I WASN'T STARING AT HIS ASS

Shiro, smug af: But you admit you were staring. Exposed.

___

ALSO ALSO?? KLANCE JUST SUITS SO MANY SONGS???? Oh man it's no wonder I have like 3 drawings already that were inspired by songs 😩 also u lowkey have me thinking of an idea where keith sings to lance now bc I've drawn lance singing to keith asdhlkl THE POWER YOU HOLD OVER ME RN

@lesbianklance come look at this!!! >:OO

[yakocchi]

My Darling’s the Strongest (Scenario Event) // Leonardo

(graphic is separate from the event)

me: wow i wonder what cool and amazing new content there will be for white day week cybird: we heard from no one that u like reprints that only have new ranking avatars. so heres another reprint that only has new ranking avatars me:

…….cybird it’s ok to not make every event have ranking cards. yea i know they make gangbusters versus events without cards, but if it results in less new scenario events overall… that’s not great

anyway, it’s been like 4 months since a new Count scenario event has been released (which is a better track record than several charas) and i wanted to do a longer string of text to test out a keyboard i ordered. yea im very fickle with my output but ehehe what’s new i archive leo events sometimes, so i decided to dredge one up to translate. i actually wanted to do vlad’s first post-main-route event as a sort of celebration for when it would inevitably happen, but then said scenario event appeared and it ended up being an AU. why does this game like AUs so much? the canon universe already pretty farfetched… u literally have dracula and ure telling me u would rather put him in a situation where he would not be dracula. cowards

This event (first released ~July 2020) was made for the 3rd Anniversary of JP Ikevam later that month. The event was split into two parts, where iirc the first part contained the Count, Arthur, and Mozart. Leo was in the second part with Napo and Isaac.

Spoilers under the cut!! Please credit if you take any of it, thenk u (･ω･*) image-heavy!!

…

The master of the manse, from time to time, starts his conversations with the most unexpected topics. One of those “times”, was today.

...

[Count]: “—So, I’d like the two of you to go out for the Best Couples’ Contest.” [Leonardo & Kara]: “Huh…?” As soon as we had excused ourselves into his quarters, the Count had said something completely unexpected. Leonardo and I had responded with a confused noise spilling out of our lips. (The “Best Couples’ Contest” is that event where they pick the best couple in Paris, right?) (I wonder why he suddenly decided to say he wants us to go.) Even as the two of us stood bewildered in front of him, the Count’s smile remained, untarnished. Leonardo then heaved a massive sigh…

[Leonardo]: “Now, I’m used to you telling me crazy things—" [Leonardo]: “But at the very least, could you give us the entire story, O’ great Count?” The Count began to speak once more—

[Count]: “Well—” [Count]: “Last night, I had visited an acquaintance upon them telling me that they had gotten their hands on some good wine.” [Count]: “At one point, they informed me that they were going to hold a contest to determine the best couple.” [Count]: “Then, they asked me if I was acquainted with any prospective couples for it.” Leonardo then took over from Count as if he had read this story before.

[Leonardo]: “Then, in your drunken state you selfishly entered me and the little sweetheart to the contest, did you?” (And that means… the Count thinks me and Leonardo would have a chance?)

The Count responded to Leonardo’s summation of the events with apparent amusement. [Count]: “I do believe I wasn’t drunk at the time, I’ll have you know?” [Leonardo]: “That’s even worse, then.”

[Count]: “Oh my, Leonardo. Is it really all right for you to say that?” [Leonardo]: “Hah?” [Kara]: “gh-…” The Count had turned in my direction— and so Leonardo, as if in pursuit of the gentleman, then turned to face me as well. Their gazes seemed to urge me to confess my true feelings on the matter, and I earnestly comply.

[Kara]: “Ah-, I… I just thought it sounded fun.” [Kara]: “And on top of that, I’d be really happy if everyone acknowledged me and Leonardo as the best couple.” (Even though I’d be nervous to stand in front of so many people,) (I’d be able to boast that such a wonderful person is my lover…) (And I also think it’d be a good opportunity to see if I’m able to become a suitable woman for Leonardo.)

[Leonardo]: “…” A surprised expression appeared on Leonardo’s face for a moment, before it was replaced with a smile…

[Leonardo]: “Shall we partake?” [Kara]: “Huh? Is it okay?” I had blurted out my question, and Leonardo gently patted my head. [Leonardo]: “This situation’s turned into nothing but a good opportunity, so we might as well have some fun and aim to win this thing, yeah?” [Kara]: “gh- Okay…!” Glad that Leonardo was also interested, my voice naturally gained a bounce to it.

[Kara]: “But, I wonder how they’re going to determine the best couple?” Muttering this, the Count then handed me the invitation, which had a general outline of the event written inside. Promptly opening it, written was—

(The contest is to be a few days from now, and I can look forward to what we’ll be tested on… on the day itself?) The portion I wanted to know about most of all hadn’t been written, and I internally slumped my shoulders.   The invitation concluded with a single line— “The key to victory is to have a mind and soul of love towards one another,” (I guess the ‘mind and soul of love’ is supposed to be a hint, but…) [Kara]: “Hmm… With just this, I don’t know what the contest could be about, at all.” [Leonardo]: “Don’t sweat it, sweetheart.” (Huh?) Leonardo brought his face up close to the Count… And as if he had devised a scheme, a mischievous smile had turned the corners of his lips. [Leonardo]: “You’re close with the contest organizer, right? I’m led to believe that they have some sort of hint on ‘em.” [Count]: “Leonardo…?” [Leonardo]: “We may have willingly chose to participate in the contest— but it doesn’t change the reality that it was our lovely Count who dragged us into this in the first place.” [Leonardo]: “So, naturally, you’re gonna cooperate with us, no?”

As a result of forcing the Count (against his will) to spill the details, we were able to make a guess on what we’d be doing in the contest. But…

most everyone else in this event: (thinking hard on what to do bc they dont kno what the contest is going to cover) leo: fuc it CHEAT

…

[Leonardo]: “…” (…Leonardo has an awfully complicated look on his face right now.) In my mind, I think over our discussion from a moment ago:

The organizer of the couples’ contest appears to have hosted several dance contests as well. To put it plainly, the organizer is both a huge socialite and a huge fan of dances. (So, individuals are called from high society circles to be chosen as the “best couple”, and) (The probability of competing based on our dancing… is high.)

[Leonardo]: “Hagh…” [Kara]: “…Hehe.” Seeing Leonardo’s pouting face, I unwittingly laughed. Then— [Leonardo]: “What are you laughing for, sweetheart?”

[Kara]: “I just remembered something from back before we became lovers.” The conversation of that day, the day where a weakness of his had been exposed, replayed in my head—

…

[Leonardo]: “…I can’t dance.” (Huh…?) [Kara]: “You’ve got to be kidding, right…? You can build and play instruments, and yet…” [Kara]: “Is it because you don’t go to many socialite parties to begin with, so you haven’t had many opportunities to dance….?” [Leonardo]: “No, I’ve participated in ‘em the point where I’ve even had a hand in producing those sorts of dazzling venues.” [Kara]: “’Producing’…” (This person really can do anything and everything. No, no, that’s not true…) [Kara]: “Leonardo, the mystery that surrounds you is only getting deeper and deeper.”

[Leonardo]: “I avoided having to do it.” [Kara]: “…’Avoid’?” [Leonardo]: “…Try to imagine it. Me, dancing?” [Leonardo]: “It doesn’t suit me, I don’t have the look required for it…” (…What… is this?)

[Kara]: “…Hehe, ahaha!” [Leonardo]: “…Hey, sweetheart. What are you laughing for?

…

(He said the same thing back then.) Unable to hold it in, I continued to giggle… [Leonardo]: “Don’t laugh.” [Kara]: “I think you’re the one smiling here, though?” [Leonardo]: “…I’m just feeling terribly nostalgic right now.” Answering me, his eyes held a gentle light within them as if cherishing those days, [Kara]: “You still hate dancing, I assume?” [Leonardo]: “Even to this day, I find it embarrassing to do. Radiant, cheerful stuff doesn’t mesh with me. But—" (Huh?)

The second I wondered if Leonardo was going to start something, he suddenly pulled my waist towards him for an embrace… [Kara]: “Woah, woah-…!” Regaining my senses— Led by Leonardo himself, I properly danced. [Leonardo]: “I’m able to dance like the average person now— and it’s all because you came to keep me company.” While I was still surprised, Leonardo dropped a light kiss on my forehead. [Kara]: “Nn-…” Flustered, I looked up to find a completely composed smile on his face… [Kara]: “…ngh-“ An impulse overwhelming me, I lean my head against his chest.

[Kara]: “…Sly as usual.” [Leonardo]: “Hm?” [Kara]: “Even though I thought I had finally found a weakness of yours, you’ll get over that hurdle too pretty soon.” [Kara]: “When you do things like that, you become sly so smoothly, exquisitely.”

(When he shows this side of him… I get driven to work even harder than before so I can catch up to him.) While even feeling a frustration from it, I turned my gaze back to Leonardo.

[Kara]: “It seems like this world is going to become one where there’s absolutely nothing you can’t do.”

[Leonardo]: “…Maybe?” (…Hm?) For a second it felt as if he were pondering over something, a particular emotion washing over his face.

But before I could say anything, I was swiftly embraced, and that thought of mine scattered, and vanished. [Kara]: “l- Leonardo?” [Leonardo]: “Hey, look there, sweetheart.” (Huh?)

Following Leonardo’s gaze— I could see the dusk dying the sky from a distance away. (Pretty…) The view that he showed me, was beautiful.   But, at the same time… my chest was tightened by this sorrow. (Although the scene before our eyes is the same between us, time passes differently between us…) (During moments like this, I feel that difference.) (However— When we became lovers, I had decided that no matter how different we are, I’m going to embrace the present, make the most out of it.) (I’m going to savor even the passing seconds, cherish them… as we live together, as two.)

As if to confirm he was really there, I embraced his warmth in return… [Kara]: “Leonardo, I’m looking forward to the contest.” [Leonardo]: “Mhm.” In the vivid sunset, we smiled to each other.

…

—Time passed, and the night of the contest arrived at last.

…

(W-Wow…) When we had entered the venue in our formalwear, there were several couples eagerly waiting for the contest to start. (All of the people here have to be participants for the contest, huh. …Somehow, my heart’s pounding.) I took a deep breath to calm myself down, and when I did that— Leonardo, as if to soothe my heart, lightly stroked my hair. [Leonardo]: “Why is it necessary for you to feel all anxious?” [Kara]: “Leonardo?” [Leonardo]: “To the point where there’s just no way we can lose to any couple here— I love you, you know.”

[Leonardo]: “—Well, and you?” Inquiring me, his smile was brimming with self-confidence… And caught up in his mood, I smiled cheerfully.

[Kara]: “I love you too— to the point where it’s impossible for us lose to anyone…!”

[Leonardo]: “Heh… Very nice, then.” [Judge]: “—And so, the contest shall begin now. The means of competition is to be by dance.” (Ah-…!) We look to each other, and Leonardo, extending his hand towards me, says, [Leonardo]: “Kara… You’ll do me the honor of a dance, no…?”

PREMIUM END

[Kara]: “Yes, I’d be delighted!” (Even though I was so nervous about this until now… Now, I can’t help but just be excited about it.) (I want everyone to quickly feast their eyes on our dancing, and our bond!) Taking his hand, I nestled close to him as an elegant melody began to echo within the dance hall. To become a flower that offsets the man before me, I step forward—

…

—When the contest had ended without a hitch, the both of us walked along the moonlit Seine as we made our way home. The chilly breeze felt pleasant on my heated skin. [Kara]: “We really were able to win!” (I was able to prove my bond with Leonardo to all of Paris… I’m so happy that I can’t stop a smile from showing on my face.) [Leonardo]: “I did say we wouldn’t lose to anyone, didn’t I?” [Leonardo]: “But, well, to think… the winning prize was a year’s supply of wine of all things. ‘Guess sensuality and allure are as good as goddamn useless to them.”

he’s trying to say that he doesn’t like the prize cuz it isn’t very sensual/sexy (suppose he imagined a prize for a lovers’ contest would be more along those lines). even Arthur in the epilogue is like “…thought the prize for a best couples’ contest would be more special”….

[Kara]: Hehe, it’s a nice prize, isn’t it? Let’s drink it with everyone else in the manse.” [Leonardo]: “If you’re satisfied with it, that’s good, I suppose.” As he spoke, Leonardo looked to be the same as usual, but his eyes reflected some kind of joy from within. (I’m glad that this will become a lovely memory I’ll have about him.) (…But, even then) The very sight of Leonardo of when I had danced with him in the dance hall, wouldn’t leave my head. [Kara]: “Your dancing was really, really stunning.” [Kara]: “As I had always thought… you’re the strongest one around.” [Leonardo]: “What’s all this about, hmm?”

i probably should’ve bothered explaining it last year since i used the title “My Darling’s the Strongest” for the other translation but uh might as well do it now that it’s explicitly used in the story so by “strongest”, it doesn’t necessarily mean physical strength (though it can be). It’s “strongest” as in a form of “mightiest” or “most powerful”, kind of like when someone says “my baseball team is the strongest in the league”,

[Kara]: “I just think that you’re the mightiest lover as there’s nothing you can’t do.” Carried away by the thrill of victory, I professed my thoughts. In doing so Leonardo’s brows lowered, and a bit of a troubled smile graced his lips. [Leonardo]: “If I’m able to put some effort into it, then I guess there’s really nothing I can’t do. But…”

[Leonardo]: “There is something I simply cannot do, no matter how hard I try.” (Huh…?) [Kara]: “Something you can’t do… I can’t imagine such a thing existing.” He was undoubtedly an almighty genius, and was also the type of person willing to confront even his awkward dancing skills head-on.

At my murmurs, Leonardo continued as if the topic was no big deal.

[Leonardo]: “It exists.” [Leonardo]: “I cannot become an ordinary human.”

(gh-…) His words had vanished into the night breeze.

I inadvertently stopped in my tracks, and he stopped as well… and the both of us stood still in that one corner.

In my current view, the moonlight illuminated his figure as he stood before me. [Leonardo]: “As a pureblood vampire,” [Leonardo]: “I give you much loneliness— A loneliness that, if I were an ordinary human, you would never have to experience.” [Leonardo]: “However, if I went and lamented over every single little detail of that truth, I would be rendered unable to be with you. —Thus from the very beginning, I do not intend to lament either.” [Leonardo]: “I’m going to use as much of my power as I possibly can to grant your wishes, and that’s all.” (Using his power, my wishes…) I recalled the exchange we had a few days ago:

…

[Kara]: “Ah-, I… I just thought it sounded fun.” [Kara]: “And on top of that, I’d be really happy if everyone acknowledged me and Leonardo as the best couple.” [Leonardo]: “…”

…

[Kara]: “Did… you say that we should go and try to win the contest… merely because I…” With a smile, Leonardo proceeded to stare intently at me. [Leonardo]: “Well, there’s that, but additionally… I had the same motive as you had.” [Leonardo]: “I also had wanted the both of us to be acknowledged as the best couple.” [Leonardo]: “I wanted news to spread that I had been able to become the man of such a wonderful woman, you know.”   (gh- Leonardo…) Leonardo, whenever and wherever, envelops me in his great, unparalleled affection. Roused by the surging love within me, I went to grip his hand.

[Kara]: “…Leonardo, I want to be by your side tonight, and all night.” (I want to give him, in return for the love I received from him… those same feelings, that same love.) (I want him… to feel my love as well.)

[Leonardo]: “…” [Kara]: “gh- Ah-!” I was suddenly yanked towards him; and almost stumbling over my feet, it had closed the distance between us. Bringing his lips to my ear, he whispered:

[Leonardo]: “What a coincidence. I was just thinking the same thing.”

…

—As soon as we entered his room, we melded, deeply kissing each other. [Leonardo]: “…Hah-, Kara…” He called my name with a wet, heady timbre between kisses, the sensuality of it making me go lightheaded. Crowded atop the bed, he pried my lips open with his finger… [Leonardo]: “Thinking about it, I haven’t received a reward from you yet.” [Kara]: “’Reward’…?” [Leonardo]: “When I’m feeling, touching you like this… I know that you’re not so dumb to be oblivious to what I want?” [Kara]: “ngh-…” Taking a guess on what he desired from me, I slowly brought my face closer to his.

[Leonardo]: “Good girl. Come on— Try to turn me on with a kiss?”

FIN

yes the event really stops here before the epilogue teaser. cybird when a sexi scene is about to start:

since this was a glorified keyboard test, this is mostly a one-off… so don’t expect leo translations from me otherwise ahah

u know, it’s always weird to me that leo’s stuff is always very sorrowful bc of the vast diff in lifespan, humans vs. vampires thing. like, does he not plan to turn her into a vampire? the wedding stuff makes it sound like they’d like to be together forever but they still don’t really like to broach the topic itself……… kinda sus given that the Count’s stuff gets several mentions of biting in events and vlad clearly doesn’t mind biting whenever (and is just waiting for her to give him the go-ahead). ive seen some ppl talk about how maybe leo likes her because she’s human (both as in being a literal human and the figurative idea of being “human”) and honestly……… it is kinda messed up to think about, but i can see it LOL now im not saying the other pureblood x mc relationships are super healthy but that’s a convo for another time

well at least these guys don’t have to ask someone for vampire-turning assistance. im imagining one of the other charas having to ask the Count to bite mc akin to how teenagers have to ask their parents to drive them and their friends around to do stuff…….. who wants to relive that nightmare

also sorry if like leo’s voice doesn’t match up with w/e the official engl localization does. ive literally never played an engl cybird game in my life, so it’s a crime of ignorance i swear. tho imo if they’re not making him sound like a rascal… that’s very lame, im not gonna lie

the epilogue is obviously not available for purchase rn, but please buy it and/or support the game with purchases when you can!!

As always, thanks for reading!

(gif source)

[harveywritings92]

Fatgum x OC: The Adventures of Manly Sherlock & Wattson.

Summary: It all started when Kirishima finds a positive pregnancy test The Fatgum's agency bathroom, it's been a very slow week so him and his bro Denki are on the case the to find out whose pregnant.

=============================================

"Okay, I've compiled a list of suspects for us to interrogate, mostly girls we know and what guys they're intimate with."

"Why are Vi-shock and Fatgum crossed out?"

"Because my dear Denki, this *shows test in a zip-lock bag* is one of those clear-blue tests! I'm sure you've seen those commercials, they're supposed tell how far along in the lady is, It's says four weeks... That was during that charity auction for the children's hospital."

" Oh right, it can't be Santiago-san she was in Canada for her friend's wedding."

Kirishima nodded as they looked down at the list of suspects and who to question... first up!

Izuku and Casey:

(Casey got a summer job a secretary for while Fatgum's regular secretary was on vacation.)

Oh lord have mercy on these to poor nerds the second Denki flashed that pregnancy test in their faces and started grilling them on their private affairs, Casey managed to sputter out a meek "I'm not pregnant.." before going ghost white and fainting, while a red faced Izuku who caught her managing to stutter out that they can't be pregnant! they haven't even slept together... yet, the farthest they've gone is making-out! Kirishima was surprised to hear this little tidbit "What? but you were tellin' Me and Uraraka that the two of you sleep together all th-" Then penny dropped at the redhead caught on awkwardly scratching the back of his head. "Oh! you meant sleeping as in actual sleep, not..." Izuku shot him a look that screamed please leave and saw his eyes flash he was getting mad. " Ok Well, we'll just be going now!" he and Denki ran leaving the flustered couple to cool down.

{Izuku and Casey}

Shoto and Saika

Long story short Shoto was on patrol during the event and Saika was home sick, so it couldn't have be them, they always used protection then the Bi-haired teen shot the mystery solving duo a look that could both boil and flash freeze the sea in a second. which scared off Denki and Kirishima.

Shoto and Saika

Katsuki and Kaya:

(Kaya is also interning with Fatgum)

"OH HELL NO! YOU HONESTLY THINK THAT I'D DO IT WITH MY GIRL WITHOUT WRAPPING IT?" the Ash blond raged while his girlfriend calmly sat next to him waiting for him to get it out of his system. "We always use protection and I have an BC implant." Kaya chimed while her boyfriend snarled at them. "AND EVEN IF I HAD KNOCKED HER UP, DO YOU TWO DUMDASSES HONESTLY THINK I'D BE ALIVE TALKING TO YOU RIGHT NOW?!?" his voice cracked a bit; Kaya sweat dropped as a frigid tidal-wave fear settled in causing the teens to shiver... Bakugou had a point, if he had gotten Kaya pregnant, All-might would've killed him and Dabi would see to it that no one will ever find his body...which would be nothing but a pile of dust blowing in the wind!

(Dabi's reformed in this, and is living with his aunt and uncle as he wants nothing to do with Enji.)

With that Denki and Kirishima sulked away defeated as Katsuki was grumbling to Kaya about what just and how those two idiots are gonna be screwed, Kaya hummed in agreement "All they gotta do is ask the wrong person and BAM! they're missing some teeth!" the honey blonde huffed as a frazzled Violet walked passed them on the street not paying attention to what the teens were talking about. 

Katsuki and Kaya

Dabi and Nanami:

{Nanami briefly rented her services out to Fatgum while Tamaki was sick, she and Dabi went to the auction in place of Ame and Toshinori.)

Not gonna touch that one with a sixty foot pole Kaminari and Kirishima would like to live to see tomorrow thank-you... Plus they concluded that if Nanami were truly pregnant? they highly doubt Dabi would let her go off on her own doing dangerous mercenary work, essentially putting herself and their baby in danger.

He'd sooner bow his head to Endeavor before that’ll happen!

Dabi and Nanami

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

After patrol

Denki and Eijirou had pretty much forgotten about the pregnancy test as patrol had picked expectantly, the teens collapsed on the couch exhausted while Fatgum was typing out their schedules for the next patrol, while enjoying a couple bags of chips as the yellow haired teen yawned reached into his pocket he felt the zip-lock bag with the pregnancy test just chilling there and then like that he remembered their investigation this afternoon.

 "Whoa Wait, I forgot! Who the hell is pregnant bro??" He asked Kirishima who had also forgot about their little quest, the redhead sat right up and pulled out their list, as Fatgum froze mid type and looked at the teens aghast at what he had just heard. "Whadda talkin' bout now?!" he asked brows furrowed in concern that one of them was going tell the BMI hero; that Kaminari or Kirishima got a girl pregnant, A bunch of what ifs started filing through the blond's head and was freaking out!

Denki not reading the mood spoke up "Kirishima found a pregnancy test in the bathroom downstairs and we checked with all the girls who attended the auction four weeks ago, It wasn't any of them." Taishiro relaxed seeing that there wasn't going be some "Sidekick teen pregnancy scandal!" headlined in the news anytime soon... but then there was a knock at the door and Violet walks in with this nervous aura around her.

Tai broke into a big grin. "Darlin' Wha a surprise!" the red haired woman fidgeted with her shirt as she warily eyed Kirishima and Kaminari then looked back at her fiancé she bit her lip before taking a deep shaky breath. "h-Hey. Can we talk, maybe in private?" Violet murmured looking like she about to burst into tears, as her tall lover looked at her worried "Why? what's...." 

A tense silence a fills the office as Taishiro's heart sped up as he recalled what Denki had said... *Four weeks...four weeks ago, Violet came back from her trip early and surprised him! they slipped away from the auction for a quickie...Taishiro couldn't remember if he wore a condom or not, he was so happy to see his dumpling again! * His face was stuck on stun, as their sidekicks stared at the couple jaws dropped.

Only for Taishiro to snapped out of it when saw how scared Violet was which confused him. D-did she think he doesn't want it??? Why would she think that? they've talked about having kids befo-...he then remembered the two teens gawking and the tall blond realized this wasn't the right environment to discuss this! "Ah... boys you got the day off tomorrow!" he announced ordering them out of the room before getting on the intercom and telling everyone to pack up, they were closing down early for the night! 

Taishiro made sure everyone was gone before sitting down and talking to Violet for the first hour or so, it felt surreal at first! it was most when had she suspected she was pregnant and if the test was accurate or not? "I'm not really sure, I just started craving watermelon and cream cheese...things started connecting from there." She wasn't really sure how reliable that test was, but she had set a doctor's appointment for tomorrow, the blond noticed she was still nervous about this whole thing, hell! He was nervous about this whole thing!

*A dad...* he chuckled as blush and wide smile adorned  his features *'m' gonna be a dad!* he felt warm and fuzzy as he put his palm on Violet's soft tummy there's a little jellybean in there... "S-so you're mad at me?" Taishiro's bubble was deflated for a second as his yellows eyes met met with his fiancée's nervous gaze. "course not! Why I be mad? yer giving me a gift 've only thought would be happen in my dreams." he said kissing Violet's hair, her forehead, her cheek, saving her tummy for last, causing her breakdown in into happy tears as she'd been freaking out all day, so much so that she was mentally preparing herself for rejection, being a pro-hero is serious business and a lot of people would rather choose their careers and fame over having a family and both Taishiro and Violet had seen from the sidelines what that does to people.

Taishiro assured Violet that this was what he wanted and nothing was going change that, he was going to be there for every step of the way! there were a lot of congratulations throw around when news got around about the pregnancy. Taishiro was very doting and protective of Violet at her belly got bigger, he even hired Dabi of all people to be her bodyguard when he was unavailable, the ex-villain turned freelancer made sure no one messed with her while she was out and about, if he did see someone looking at her funny; once they realized who he was they'd back off unless they wanted to be a pile ash.

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

Cut to 9 months later in the dead of winter after a heavy snowstorm; there's a photo of Dabi circulating, consisting of him posing in front of a sleeping Violet whose being held by Fatgum, while she's holding a baby, swaddled in said ex-villain's jacket while an ambulance arrives in the background with the caption: [It's a girl!] which is published in the news papers. ["Ex-Villain delivers Pro-hero's baby in freak snowstorm!"]

[peaches-writes]

super random prompts for today bc im feeling nostalgic~

tw // death

at 1100 years of you fulfilling your punishment as a human turned grim reaper, no one could blame you when you confess that you don’t really know yourself now if the promise you swore to chan before he died by your sword in his first life is still serious or holds meaning to you. it was a long long time ago, already muddled in your failing memories, when you swore to the joseon era prince that you would ‘find and torture him in every life he gets’ because he invaded your village and branded you as a criminal (which ultimately led to you doing the things that got you landed with your current spiritual punishment). at present, having already met different versions of him in his subsequent lives and delivering him to the afterlife each time without fail, you’re not sure anymore if you can still hold onto this promise and cause him trouble. after all, every version of him that pops up on your radar throughout the centuries never remembers what he did in his first life, let alone remember you. plus, the only time he sees you now as a grim reaper is on his death bed, when you come to fetch him and confess to causing some of the misfortunes he’s experienced in the life that he’s lived. 

so imagine your surprise when the gods inform you that chan only has one reincarnation left to spend and that he’ll spend it in the 21st century seoul, right where everything started. you’re then furthermore petrified when this version you meet not only has the ability to see and interact with ghosts by his 3rd eye but also finds the journal you unknowingly drop at his neighbor’s funeral: filled with notes on him and his previous lives as well as the confusing feelings you’ve unconsciously developed over the years. the final nail in the coffin, however, is that he’s not smug about it when he eventually finds you at the local graveyard, unlike how you expected of the chan from the joseon era. instead, he asks you all about his past lives, your punishment, and what he should expect in his next life if he has any. this time, with no means of escaping from his 3rd eye and his dangerously fast biking skills, you’re forced to confront the soul of the person you once called your enemy. 

more of the kids under the cut!

minho receives a google form link from you at the strike of midnight on your 1st anniversary as a couple, initially opening it on the assumption that it’s the survey form you previously coerced him into agreeing to answer for your senior thesis. the computer science major is then thoroughly surprised when the link opens to a red and pink-themed form titled, “y/n’s boyfriend application!” with questions ranging from, “full name so i can flames it with my name” to “rate my annoying habits from ‘i love them dw’ to ‘this is probably going to be one of the future reasons why we’ll break-up.’” he messages you first before anything else, asking you just exactly ‘what the fuck is this application for, babe?’ to which you only reply with a spam of winking emojis. actually, you only reply with winking emojis and actual winks when he decides to videocall you into answering him, leading minho to answer the form while you’re peeking over on a small browser on his laptop screen. your boyfriend mainly answers the questions lightheartedly, even reading his answers aloud to you after (”what number on the fan do i like? four, of course!” “minho, you’re a monster.”). that is until the last question which he only smiles at before spending the last five minutes of your videocall typing continuously then ending the call after submitting, preventing you from interrogating him and his sudden change in behavior. 

it’s only after the call that you see his answer to the last question (”why do you love me”), an entire eight paragraphs of him just mindlessly rambling about whatever comes at the top of his head to answer the question: ranging from his favourite and least favourite memories of you together, the things he loves about you coupled with the things he claims to not like about you (before shyly admitting towards the end that he still finds things to love about them), and an “overall there’s a lot of reasons why i love you: some i’ve mentioned, some i haven’t, some i’ve discovered, and some i will find out about in the future when we celebrate our 2nd year anniversary, 3rd, 4th, and the ones we’ll eventually forget what number they’re supposed to be because we’ll probably be married and busy with a lot of other things ;) there’s just no one definitive answer to this question, to be honest, but this is what comes at the top of my head. happy one year, baby <3″ 

when the fabric of reality that blankets seoul is reported to have been ripped at the seams, you start mysteriously losing some of your personal belongings to the parallel dimension’s version of your apartment. at first you blame it on your public enemy no. 1 and roommate, changbin, who does have a habit of borrowing things without permission and forgetting to return them. when you find a blue-haired and heavily tattooed changbin using your hair dryer in the bathroom one day (clearly looking very different from the roommate you’ve been living with for 6 months who has blonde hair and piercings only), however, only then do you realize that it’s been your roommate’s parallel version who’s been unknowingly receiving your things. what’s more surprising is him getting visibly confused at you initially throwing a fit at him when you mistook him as your real roommate, explaining to you later on that he and your parallel version are dating. you purposely avoid parallel dimension changbin for a few days in embarrassment from the latter, that is until he sits you down in the living room a week later (while your dimension’s changbin is out at his part-time job) and asks you, “so, what’s your problem with my parallel self? maybe i can help!”  

only parallel dimension changbin proves himself to be unhelpful when all he comments on your subsequent ramblings is a cheesy grin and, “your roommate’s probably in love with you. god, i can’t believe that even in your reality i’m stupid.” 

in a world where the person who doesn’t reciprocate an individual’s strong feelings instead of the other way around, hyunjin’s had his own fair share of sick days and pharmacy runs to suppress the flowers that bloom in him from admirers who fall way too deep into his charms. he’s slightly grown desensitized to it, having already memorized what to do and what to say to the people who are forced to confront and apologize to him each and every time. when it’s you who’s suddenly confessing your sudden feelings to him, promising that you’ll get over it in a month and even stay away for a while for his sake, only then does he feel a strange mix of dread, worry, and fear at the pit of his stomach. he doesn’t want you, his best friend, to ever leave his side but at the same time he can’t find it in himself to reciprocate your feelings for you to stay. for the first time, he doesn’t know what to do nor what to say to you, the daffodils suddenly feeling heavier in his lungs the more you try and distance yourself and see new people.

 jisung, unlike how the cliche trope goes, always bets everything on him missing his shot at your subdivision’s basketball court. he always says something along the lines of, “if i miss this shot, let’s go the movies!” or “if the ball falls off the rim after 5 seconds, you’ll go to the beach party with me!” despite being the star player of your high school basketball team himself. he always purposely misses for fun and gets his reward, of course, even when you remind him to shoot properly through flustered expressions and feigned huffs. this has then caused you your entire summer time and allowance, all spent glued to jisung’s hip and buying him all sorts of things from ice cream, extended time to borrow surf boards at the beach, and even a ride ticket to the travelling carnival’s ferris wheel (where he stole a kiss from you at the top like the cheesy little shit that he is). 

whenever you ask him why he bets in reverse each and every time, however, only then does his confident smirk disappears into his blush and he turns his entire face away from you; too shy to admit that you make him a little too nervous whenever it’s just you watching him shoot hoops. give him a rest, he just wants more full assurance that he’ll get to spend more time with you, as boyish as that sounds. 

you probably should’ve known better than to provoke chenle and wooyoung when you told them over the student council meeting that a marriage booth probably wouldn’t give you a lot of revenue since your school festival this year doesn’t fall on valentine’s day week. you probably should’ve expected that the first thing they’d do after the student assembly, when the festival is formally opened, is to drag you into said marriage booth—your english classroom decorated from top to bottom in cheap white cloth, plastic flowers, and an edit of your senior alumni bang chan as jesus—and put you into one of the flower crown veils they probably got at someone’s baptism, explaining that they need someone to kickstart the booth and attract more customers. but most of all, you probably should’ve expected that these two troublemaking vice president and secretary of yours wouldn’t hesitate to take this opportunity to torment you even further because suddenly you’re getting fake married to felix, your chem lab partner and long-time crush, who also has his own ‘sins’ to atone to chenle and wooyoung (something about ditching them at a party because he saw an injured cat stuck up on a tree on the way to the venue). the two of you stand in front of the “bang chan altar” for 10 minutes with han jisung in a questionable pope costume, the two of you attracting passersby who are mostly your classmates murmuring “oh my god, y/n and felix?” or “i knew it! those two are so cute together!” as the two of you are forced into exchanging cereal box rings and saying impromptu vows. 

what you didn’t expect from this experience, however, is felix suddenly confessing in his vows, clearing his throat awkwardly while sliding the purple plastic ring on your ring finger and saying, “this isn’t how i imagined it to go but we’re both here, all of our classmates are here, and you’re looking really pretty today so, uh...y/n, i just want to say that i’ve really liked you for a long time.” 

your grandmother shows you her first look of disapproval over your weaved fabrics when you start creating pieces that seem to resemble the aura of a boy. as much as you don’t want to see her disappointed, tradition still stands that you have to design your fabrics according to how you would interpret your dreams and since you turned 18, all you’ve been dreaming about is your potential soulmate. of all 7 billion in the world, you just have to be one of the rare ones with the ability to interpret your dreams on textile and have these said dreams be your soulmate bond to someone else as well. instead of arbitrary colors or shapes resembling nature like your grandmother and everyone else, you’re trying to recreate the face of a boy your age with the kindest smile you’ve ever seen and the prettiest brown eyes; instead of putting the sounds of the ocean or the chirping of birds as they would be usually heard in dreams onto colorful fabric, you’re trying to mix red, orange, and yellow dyes on threads just to try and capture seungmin’s golden voice whenever he would sing to you in your dreams. your soulmate becomes your muse, the lasting impressions he makes on you in the 3 real-time seconds of dreaming that you spend with him embedding themselves into the blanket you’ve been tasked to make for the winter. 

seungmin is more than flattered of course, finding genuine fascination in what you do and excitement to see you in person once university allows him. it’s only at the end of the year, however, right on christmas day, when he finally sees you on vacation in your town with his family—finding you at the beach party his new friend hyunjin invites him to where you dance around the bonfire with your own friends, wrapped in the blanket made of warm colors that just scream his very soul and aura. your eyes meet almost as soon as he arrives because of your soulmate pull, causing you to become flustered at realizing that you’re wearing the blanket design that’s been inspired by him, and before he knows it, kim seungmin is running to you and grabbing your arm. “hi.” he pants breathlessly, his relieved smile shining brightly against the orange glow of the fire to your side. “finally. it’s you!” 

jeongin stares at his laptop for a solid 5 minutes in complete and utter confusion before his roommate seungmin pokes him on the side of his head and asks if he passed his dream university, snapping him out of reality. it’s not that he didn’t pass the entrance exam, definitely not because he’s still feeling confident from answering it from almost 6 months ago. rather, it’s that the acceptance e-mail sent to him by the university is for a completely different name, your name out of all applicants out there—that one person he sat next to at cram school and turned down at the end of the summer. logging into his social media accounts, he sees people voicing out their concerns for similar incidents, that they’re getting acceptance or rejection e-mails of other applicants instead of their own, and posts that aim to track down who’s gotten who to remedy this. when seungmin hears this, he simply shrugs and urges jeongin to simply message you and get over it since the two of you are connected on social media anyway. but still, jeongin takes another hour to message you with a simple, “hi, i got your e-mail. should i forward it to you?” even closing his laptop in a hurry and running back into the comfort of his blanket as soon as he hears the dreadful ping of the messenger app. he knows he shouldn’t be flustered to message you, especially with something as important as your acceptance letter, but he can’t help but feel weak in the knees at the thought of having to talk to you again after almost a year because all he can think about is that he really shouldn’t have rejected you in that offer to go to the movies in the first place. 

what’s worse is that, since he sent the message over online, his thoughts can’t help but overthink your simple “really? here’s my e-mail” reply that comes not even a second after he sends his message—even more your follow-up reply of “i got yours too btw! i’ll forward it to you when you forward mine” when he doesn’t reply immediately. jeongin’s fingers uncontrollably shake as he musters up the courage to reply, face blushing red the entire time as he e-mails you your acceptance letter. all this time, considering how the two of you haven’t talked in a long time, he only thinks about one ambitious thought: “is it a bad time? to bring up that movie offer again?” 

[basilrazzledazzle]

dating the haikyuu boys, pt 2

y'all REALLY liked that last one omg so here's a few more.

(a/n: i have written kageyama's part three times and oikawa's twice why can't this stupid app SAVE MY DRAFTS)

anyway this one is dedicated my one and only follower you're a real one homie 😌

Kageyama Tobio

he was the one to ask you out

tbh he had probably been pining for a hot minute before he finally got himself together

you had been helping him in class during free time because ya boy isn't the smartest and needed someone to help him study

and one day he was watching you explain a concept and he couldn't help but notice wow uh,,, y/n is really cute,, wait what??

anyway there's a big test coming up and our boy kags is stressing

so you volunteer to help him after school

but he has practice

so you both decide that you'd go to his house after practice

so you meet him at the school and you guys walk together

and you hadn't really talked about your personal lives

but he told you about how much volleyball and his friends meant to him

which was kinda wild because you had always thought of him as cute but intimidating

so anyway you stayed over for a little over an hour but it was getting late

and as you're getting ready to leave he volunteers to walk you home

you oblige because it's getting late plus you don't mind the thought of being together in the dark

and turns out he's just an absolute dork because he's cracking jokes the whole way home

and before you go inside he gets kinda flustered

"hey y/n?"

"mhm?"

"would you uh,, wanna hang out this friday?"

"but we don't have any tests or anything monday??"

just bc you're tutoring him doesn't mean you're not a dumbass

"no like a,, uh like a date"

o h

you agree ofc because who in their right mind would turn him down

i really think he would do something like taking you to an aquarium

mostly because he likes to watch you get excited over all the colorful fish

i've decided that kageyama doesn't know what to do with pda

because ya boy definitely gets flustered easily

however

he could never get upset with your affection

so you guys talked a lot during school but i feel like the most pda that would happen would be like hand holding

anyway after a couple weeks of dating you're walking to his house with him

and you mention that you're kinda chilly and wish you had brought your sweater

this boy has his jacket off in an instant

and also insists you wear it when he walks you to your house after "studying"

and you're wearing it at lunch the next day

and hinata asks kags why you have it

and since our favorite tangerine cannot keep his mouth shut, half the school knows by the end of the week

Oikawa Tooru

he asked you

he knew he had almost all of the school wrapped around his finger

except you were always one to call him out on his bullshit

and he found that hot

anyway he was kind of low-key flustered when he was asking you out

the two of you were both the captains of your volleyball teams

so you had that in common

and his excuse to talk to you was for you to teach him how to gain the respect of his teammates

you said he couldn't get anyone's respect if he continued to act as arrogant as he did

which kinda threw him off

but he asked you out anysay

you. laughed.

"are you serious?"

"why wouldn't i be serious??"

you agreed to ONE date

but it turned into several

anyway

this boy LIVES to show you off

would literally swoop by your locker in between classes just to give you a kiss

low-key clingy asf

one day you mysteriously found his volleyball jacket in your locker

you could take a hint

he saw you wearing it after school and OH BOY

he was whipped

you probably could've gotten away with murder if you had been wearing his jacket, he thought

lots of movie dates at his house

and even though he liked to talk a lot he was surprisingly a good listener

mostly because he thought it was hot seeing you angry as you wanted over the latest bullshit

it took him a bit to open up to you tbh

but he became very vulnerable about how he was scared to let down his team

on another note

he knew he could get anything he wanted when he was wearing his glasses

god he's such an asshole

but so attractive

Daichi Sawamura

he asked you out but also technically didn't

but boy was FLUSTERED

like he was so nervous

even though you guys had a pretty good relationship already and had amazing chemistry

you guys had been friends for a while

and you were hanging out at the library

supposedly studying but in reality most of the time had been spent joking around and goofing off

he was really trying his best to stay on task but you kept finding memes that you just had to show him

so you leaned over close to him with your phone in hand

and your boy just went for it

he pulled away almost immediately though

"y/n i am so sorry i shouldn't have done that-"

you kissed again him just to shut him up

which he was completely okay with

but then you realized you were in a library

where making out was generally frowned up

it took a minute before you officially became a couple though

tbh you were probably wearing his jacket before you were official

and when you were wearing his jacket??

oh boy

you could have gotten your way with anything

he was so whipped and seeing you in his clothes just had him wrapped around your finger

dates with him were probably pretty casual tbh

lots of cuddling at each other's houses while watching netflix

arguments only happen because you don't like him overworking himself

even then it's not a full blown argument

he'll just keep doing what he's doing (homework, volleyball shit, etc) and give you some bs excuse about him having to hold himself to high standards

other than that he's extremely agreeable and willing to compromise with anything

ugh i just love him sm

Hinata Shoyo

you asked him

you had most of your classes together and found his cheerfulness infectious

and one day you were in the courtyard setting a volleyball against the wall and you heard him come up behind you

"hey y/n!! will you set to me?"

after that you guys had an immediate friendship

plus you lived near each other, so when he didn't have practice, you guys walked together most of the way home

he was very energetic and practically bouncing the whole way home

so one day you decided to just go for it

"hey shoyo, are you busy this friday?"

he wasn't

"do you wanna,, i dunno, hang out?"

"what, do you wanna practice?"

ugh he's so oblivious what a dummy

"no, like a date"

boy turned RED he didn't know what to do

"uh, y-yeah! sure!"

idk i feel like going to a park with him would be cute

y'all would get some sort of fast food to take with you and just hang out on the swings and talk

it was chill but also allowed him to move around a lot because you already know this boy cannot sit still

anyway you were walking back that night and he noticed you shiver

bc it was kinda chilly

and he's like "hey y/n are you cold?"

and you assure him you're fine

but he insists you take his jacket anyway

because wow a gentleman

and surprisingly it's tsukishima who notices you with it on monday because you had first period with him

"hey what're you doing wearing shorty's jacket, y/n?"

"y/n's and i are dating, thank you very much! they can wear my jacket as they please."

tsukki couldn't believe it

neither could anyone else tbh

but you were both happy and that's all that mattered :))

ahh anyway that's what i have for them. i hope u enjoy these!! i really have fun writing them but they take forever omg

feel free to request a one shot / imagine or something like this!! i need something to fill my time lmao

anyway thank u for reading!! please like n reblog (if u wanna, ofc) ily all!!

[seunqs]

[ a long get to know me tag ]

tagged by: losers @woosohn @yeonjuins

what day is your birthday?

27th june! it’ll be on a monday next year

what’s your favourite colour?

blue! a rather specific shade of light sky blue but i also like dark blue! might be misleading because everyone would think beige/black since that’s the aesthetic i like + almost everything i own is black...

what’s your lucky number?

i don’t have one i think but i tend to say 7 if i’m asked?

do you have any pets?

sadly no >:( will get one in the future idc idc

how tall are you?

158cm tiny i wna be abit taller

how many pairs of shoes do you own?

off my head i think 3 pairs...? just 2 black and 1 white that i rotate depending on the outfit i’m wearing

favorite song?

asdjekw i don’t think i have one specific one but recently i’ve been listening to maniac by nct doyoung & haechan!

other honourable mentions: a book of love by ha hyunsang, wide eyed blind by saint raymond, irreplaceable by nct dream, lmly by jackson wang. that’s all i have off my head

favorite movie?

surprisingly i’m not big on movies... but i’ll always answer parent trap when someone asks! why do i sound like i always have prepared answers in my head for various questions... okay that’s bc i do.

what would be your ideal partner?

@june look away i already know you’re gna say this sounds a lot like someone..

shy... is the main characteristics lmao idky it’s not even like i’m outgoing but i tend to find myself liking shy-er boys over the outgoing ones! aaa those with very obvious leadership qualities and quietly cares and looks out for those around them :’) tsundere! i think shy may appear cold sometimes but i’m rly :’) when the shy ones become very affectionate in private or when you get to know them better :’) or shy with strangers but very goofy and silly with their closer social circle heh those that are more cat-like than dog-like, only approaches you when they’re comfy. okay also shy but willing to speak up when necessary! doesn’t let themselves get bullied for being quiet and also pls speak up for me i hate ordering food pls do it for me HAHAHHA also if they’re passionate about something they like/are good at! good listeners too heh doesn’t need to always have the best advice, just if they would sit with me silently and listen to me and give me a hug afterwards :’’’’’) i think i’m on the touchier side too so if they don’t dislike that it’ll be nice! OH someone who’s good at cooking too bc i hate cooking and the kitchen in general.. i’ll do the dishes though HAHAHAH ok that is all there is a certain idol in my head that is the embodiment of my ideal type and i hate him >:(

do you want children?

no... not so much bc i don’t find them cute or i can’t handle them but i think it’s a commitment that scares me! bringing up the child well with the right character and values ajksdbwkje i don’t know if i’m up to that HAHAHAH

have you gotten in trouble with the law?

nope @woosohn @yeonjuins pls be proud of my direct no why are the two of you......... 

bath or shower?

shower! i don’t know if i’ve actually taken a bath before... probably when i was younger HAHAH i think i’ll get bored in the bath and i much rather be relaxing in bed than in the tub

what color socks are you wearing?

barefoot at the moment! the socks i own are mostly solid colour socks / simple cartoon or animal patterns but all ankle socks that can’t be seen with my shoes

favorite type of music?

i listen to pop, r&b and indie! that’s about all and favourite depends on the mood!

how many pillows do you sleep with?

just 1! and a bolster too

what position do you sleep in?

either on my back with hand over my head lmao or turned to either sides while hugging my bolster and face buried into the bolster

what you don’t like when you’re sleeping?

when it’s too hot! canNOT sleep if the weather is too hot. also if i get woken up rudely, by screaming or someone smacking me awake LMAO just tell me nicely to get up and i’ll be out of bed in 10mins pls give me awhile my brain is turning on HAHAHA

what do you have for breakfast?

recently i haven’t woken up early enough for bfast or my family is just about to go out to buy lunch by the time i’m up hahaha but on the days that i’m alive for bfast, iced coffee and any pastry sitting in the fridge! my family is big on pastries like croissants and cakes like banana and carrot cakes! so one of those but the iced coffee is a constant in my first meal of the day

have you ever tried archery?

nope and idt i’ll be good at it tbh....

favorite fruit?

strawberries, apples, peaches! there are some seasonal favs where i rly like them for a period of time and then suddenly not anymore but these 3 are the constants

favorite swear word?

hahahaha i dont think i have a favourite one..... but i say tf a lot and mf for kpop boys who make me more flustered than they should

do you have any scars?

i don’t think so! i have a few stretch marks around my waist and tummy tho 

are you a good liar?

yes... HAHAH i used to get scolded so much for lying as a kid lmfao

what’s your personality type?

isfj-t has probably only dipped to isfp-t once but if not constant isfj!

what’s your favorite type of girl?

HAHAHAH uh.... okay with all kinds i think? except people in general who try too hard

innie or outie?

innie. was this question necessary tho AHHAHAHA

left or right-handed?

right-handed

favorite food?

ramen! but i like lots of food lmfao tiramisu, pork belly, lots of noodles, also lots of rice, beef, cakes, ice cream, i think i’m more salty > sweet!

favorite foreign food?

japanese ramen, korean cuisine!, lasagne

are you clean or messy?

clean

most used phrase?

i think alot of keyboard smashes, lmao, wtf, HAHAHAHHAHA, sigh, i’m tired LOL

how long does it take for you to get ready?

depends! fastest i think i can get out of the house 20mins after i’ve woken up. longest probably an hour where outfit is taking a while and accessories needs to be chosen

do you talk to yourself?

in my head yes.

do you sing to yourself?

not often but i sing out loud for the family to hear LOL in my head very often a song is playing up there

are you a good singer?

nop. i don’t think i’m a BAD singer but wouldn’t classify as good either HAHHAHA

biggest fear?

wow so many things but i think biggest is complete darkness, i need to see and know what is going on around me. i sleep with a night light on heh 

are you a gossip?

with closer friends yes def HAHAH my school culture tends to have lots of tea that my friends and i don’t like to get too involved in but we do talk about the gossips that goes around hahaha have also been in the center of gossip way too often

do you like long or short hair?

long! can’t imagine myself with short hair.. used to have reallllyyy long hair that goes beyond my waist and cried when i cut it to slightly below shoulder length. that’s the shortest i’ll ever go

favourite school subject?

wow nothing i don’t like school lmfao but humanities and language are way more bearable than math and sciences

extrovert or introvert?

introverted

what makes you nervous?

unpredictable situations, being alone in public (contradictory because in private i would strongly prefer to be alone but i don’t enjoy being alone in public i feel judged HAHAHA), also currently waiting on a reply for something and that’s been keeping me anxious the past 2 days :’)

who was your first real crush?

when i was 13/14, tablemate in school that was kinda shy and had very limited social circle but talked to me endlessly in class lmfao he apparently liked me too but we never dated and went to different schools at 16 y/o. we’re still kinda in touch though! we talked quite a fair bit last month just catching up but he’s more of an acquaintance now

how many piercings do you have?

2! just one normal lobe piercing on either ears, don’t think i’ll get anymore

how fast can you run?

back in school i used to be one of the fastest girls in my class LMFAO i could clock 12.5 minutes for a 2.4km run. stamina came from dancing since i had to run laps before dance class 2 times a week. but that is long in the past and now i get tired from climbing more than 4 flights of stairs pls spare me

what color is your hair?

naturally black but dyed brown! my hair has grown quite abit since i dyed it though now its black at the top and brown from above my ears onwards

what color are your eyes?

a very dark brown lmfao almost black

what makes you angry?

irresponsible people. just pushing responsibility to others or avoiding their responsibilities. don’t need you to do a good job with your responsibilities, just don’t make your issues my issues. and if its a shared responsibility like group projects, then do your part to contribute and don’t expect others to cover you

selfish people, in many ways. just being self-centred, not caring about how others feel, doing things for personal gain at the expense of others

speaking in a passive-aggressive/sarcastic manner. i say this even though i’m afraid of confrontation but i much rather someone outright tells me they’re unhappy about something or wants to get a point across. i hate when they talk about it sarcastically or tries to sugar-coat their words to make themselves look less aggressive about their words. tell me straight as it is, if you’re already gonna talk about something bad don’t piss me off with your attitude at the same time

do you like your own name?

rae is nice! has a very nice ring to it and looks pretty!

do you want a boy or a girl as a child?

i don’t.. want one.. but both have their good and bad i can’t decide.. i want a puppy

what are your strengths?

is this an interview question i have had a few interviews over the past weeks i am well-prepared for this HAHAHA

i think i’m pretty resilient! i bounce back from bad times pretty quickly or i psycho myself to see the situation positively. but it is ofc coupled with a lot of complaining to the people around me first

although i hate unpredictable situations and having to quickly adapt to new settings, i think i adapt pretty quickly too. flexible? easy-going? idk what’s the right way to call it but yeah something along those lines. good at it but i still enjoy my stability and calm don’t want to have to quickly adapt to new situations.

what are your weaknesses?

very emotional HAHAH used to be much worse but i often let my emotions rule my head. i think i’ve improved A LOT though i used to be so bad but i think i’m now able to make rational decisions even if im bawling LMFAO

this sounds like a compliment but i’ve been told this too often as well. i tend to be way too nice to people who don’t deserve it. even if the person doesn’t deserve it or they’ve pushed all my buttons in the wrong way possible, i would still try to be as nice and polite as i can. really helps with me working in the f&b industry lmfao.

what’s the colour of your bedspread?

dark blue / grey! 

colour(s) of your room?

white & wood (throughout my house actually + green from the plants in the living room) @yeonjuins says i live in a muji showroom

[wri0thesley]

dfnjvngfb please be nice to me about this because it’s VERY self-indulgent and also very explicitly self-insert and not reader-insert, but . . . i wrote some nat/prosciutto inspired by an ask i saw about being a dance teacher. and i thought; hmm. i’ve always wanted to learn how to swing dance for that 50s repro life, and i bet prosciutto would be up for that-- 

is this a meet cute

[brief a/n: nat is a 23 year old opera student at a fancy italian conservatory. they left a while before studying bc opera singer’s voices mature and also christ the price, they had to save up. imagine this dress. prosciutto swing dances because he likes it and also he picks up older women with rich husbands and money to burn who’ll spoil him a bit, heaven knows la squadra doesn’t pay him enough. he’s amassed quite a bit of wealth just by being older women’s - and sometimes men’s - sugar baby, but he likes the dancing enough to carry on doing it. usignolo means songbird/nightingale]

You linger outside the studio’s building for a minute, trying to gather up the courage to go inside. Sure, this had seemed like a good idea last week when you’d seen a flyer on your conservatoire’s notice board, and considered how your International Studies Coordinator had suggested getting more involved in the local community. You’re pretty sure she’d intended for you to try bars, socialising with other people your age . . . but. Well. You’ve never really been one for loud clubs or thumping music.

So you’d taken a phone number and booked a place in the class and tried to ignore the pounding of anxiety in your throat every time you thought about actually making a social commitment in a country you’ve barely been in for a month. 

You bite your lip, wondering if you’re going to be overdressed. Sure, you’re used to being overdressed - being in a full face of makeup and neat heels and stockings in an eight-in-the-morning Music Theory class when your classmates look like the walking dead after a night enjoying Naples’ nightlife, but those are people who you see every day. Making a good impression on people you hope to be social with . . . that’s a totally different can of worms. 

Some people have hurried past you in full ballet garb; neat chignons, elegant lines, holding their canvas dance bags and shooting you curious glances. You’re not built to be a ballet dancer, you suppose; but then again, that’s not why you’re here. You check the time again. You’re five minutes early. 

Okay. Good impression. You’re not going to walk into the room ten minutes late. Maybe if you get in there early, you can seem like you belong. Ignoring the pounding in your stomach and the fact your nerves are begging you to turn back and forget this whole idea, you push into the building and make your way to the dance studio number you were told to come to. Your heels clack on the wooden floor - you’d done as much research as you could before coming here (always terrified of being out of step, or just doing things wrong), but you can’t shake the nagging anxiety that perhaps you’re going to be the sore thumb.

God, you hope you’re not a sore thumb in all the worst reasons, peeking into one of the windows of the other studios and seeing a line of willowy androgynous ballet dancers, stretching elegant limbs up to the ceiling and pointing toes of well-muscled lithe legs. You tug at your dress, nervous again of your curves and your general being.

You push open the door to Studio Number Seven.

. . . Well.

Perhaps you shouldn’t have worried about being overdressed. The other people in here wearing dresses are wearing nice floral prints and swing skirts and neat cardigans. Your own black dress seems a little somber in comparison (cheered up by one of your collection of 1950s embroidered brooches), but that’s not the thing you notice. 

The thing you notice is the silver hair, the glasses perched on noses, the crow’s feet and the indulgent smiles when they see you. 

You are certainly not going to be befriending peers, that’s for sure. 

The instructor herself only has about a decade on you, and you’re almost relieved to see that she’s wearing a cherry-printed dress with faux Bettie Page bangs. That’s more like your kind of people. She bounces up to you, neat and enthusiastic.

“You’re Nat, right?” She asks, smiling, and you find yourself smiling back. “I know you said you were a student, but I was still expecting someone . . .” She gestures vaguely at the room around her, and you can’t help but let some of the tension drain out of your shoulders. 

“Yeah,” you say, “I’m not sure what I was expecting.”

She laughs. 

“Well,” she says, “it’s a dying art, swing dancing! We should be glad that there are young people wanting to take it up. Do you have any experience at all? You’re certainly dressed the part!” She winks at you. “I love seeing the outfits, honestly - one of my favourite parts of teaching for sure!”

You shake your head. 

“Not in swing dance,” you say. “A little in ballet and tap, but I guess that’s . . . not a transferable skill, huh?” She claps your shoulder.

“It means you’ve got some rhythm in you,” she says. “Now, let me see -- ah! I have the perfect partner for you. He’ll give you a hand whilst you’re finding your feet--”

She turns on her heel and disappears into the crowd of students, and that’s when you see him for the first time. He’s taller than the rest of the elderly bowed students, stoop-shouldered - standing above them with a quantity of slicked back blond hair and cheekbones you could cut diamonds with, sharply tailored suit cut to show off a muscled chest. He sees you looking at him and he turns his gaze on you, blue eyes icy, sweeping across your form in a way that makes you avert your eyes and try not to be swallowed up by the studio floor. You see, from the corner of your eye, the smirk . . . and then you see the instructor come over to him, tug gently on his arm and speak softly under her breath.

You’re flustered as the instructor brings the handsome blond over to you, flush rising to your cheeks - seeing your reaction to him, the man shoots you a charming smile, revealing the slightest overbite and a gap in his teeth, and oh . . . that’s unfair. He inclines his head, a half bow, holding out one hand for you to take as the instructor nods.

“This is Armando,” she says to you. “I think he’ll be a wonderful partner, he’s been coming here for months and he’s such a good teacher, I should be paying him some of my salary!”

“Just because you’re such a good teacher, I’m sure,” the blond man says. He turns to you as the instructor shoots you a wink and moves away to go towards the front of the room. His eyes on you make you burn warm. You resist the urge to chew on your lip, looking up at him through lowered lashes. 

“Did she . . .” You nod towards the instructor, “partner us together because you’re closer in age to me than everyone else?” 

The man hums, a small smile on his handsome face, as you hesitantly take his hand. His fingers are soft and warm but self-assured as he moves closer, other hand landing on the curve of your waist. His aftershave smells woodsy and smoky and it’s all you can do to not breathe it in deeply. 

“Perhaps,” he remarks, voice soft and deep. “I am only sixty five.”

“You must have an amazing skincare routine.” 

He smirks.

“I do.”

The instructor claps her hands together at the front of the class and you both turn, but his hand doesn’t let go of yours and his grip on your waist doesn’t falter. From the corner of your eye, you see looks from the other women in the class that are obviously jealousy. You try to ignore it; it’s unusual, for you to be the one people are jealous of. It’s almost . . . nice.

Still. You’re trying to make friends, so you don’t gloat in it.

The instructor talks, moving across the room, gently correcting some people’s holds, talking animatedly. She pauses by you and Armando, but she nods and smiles instead of touching you. As you and he begin to move, slowly, he leans in closer.

“You know . . . my name,” he says (there’s a lingering impression that something about this statement makes him uncomfortable; it’s strange to hear him sound unsure when every inch of him oozes confidence and surety). “But I don’t know yours. What brings you to our jolly class?”

“Nat,” you say, “just . . . just Nat.” He tips his head, leaving the conversation open, his eyes utterly focused on you in a way that you’ve never really felt. He seems genuinely invested. “I’m an opera singer. A student, I mean. At . . . at the conservatorio?” 

“Ah,” he says, smiling. “A nightingale.”

You blush, and the hand on your waist tightens imperceptibly at the way your eyes flicker away from him in embarrassment at the sweet name.

“And the swing dance?” He asks, one eyebrow raised. “I mean . . . I’m not complaining, but as you can see . . .” He inclines his head at the other students. 

“I just . . . like the fifties. You know . . . elegant dresses, petticoats, the music . . . I’m not romanticising it or anything, but I just like that idealised idea of it, you know? A-anyway! What about you? Y-you don’t look like the type--”

“Touche,” he says, smiling softly, but he doesn’t say anything beyond that. 

You and he spend the rest of the lesson partnered together. He’s elegant, quick, smiling at you when you catch his eye amongst a whirl of petticoats and a breathless swell of the music. You know that you’re a little clumsy on your feet (you can’t help that! Not with a man like this so close to you, leaning down to murmur close to your face, holding onto your waist so firmly as if he doesn’t want to let you go). 

He murmurs things about some of the other students as he whirls you around, that make you laugh and widen your eyes and insist ‘no!’. Every time he gets a rise out of you, a response of flushed cheeks and giggles and demurely turned down eyes, he seems to get a little more intense on how he’s handling you.

You’re in a mess of a beating heart and short breath and pink cheeks by the time that the instructor calls time on the day’s class, and you feel like you’ve had a successful time. Sure, you didn’t mingle with anybody else but . . . Armando, but you’ve had a good time. You feel confident and excited at the prospect of next week’s lesson. Pulling away from him and straightening yourself out a little, you offer him an apologetic smile.

“Sorry if I wasn’t very good,” you say. “I’m . . . I’m not the most graceful.” You gesture down to the curves of your body, that often feel so ungainly and as if they’re taking up more space than you deserve to. “I guess you’ll go back to another partner next week, but thank you for helping--”

He quirks his lips, one eyebrow raised. 

“I don’t have to.” He says. “I’m perfectly content to partner you, you know. You were . . . Well.” He laughs, a little soft noise that you can tell from the look in his eyes isn’t intended to be at all mocking. “You were a pleasure to dance with, if we were off-beat plenty of the time.” He pauses. “And . . . if you want, I’d be more than happy to go over some things with you before next week’s session,” he says, his words easy, and your heart skips a beat. You’d worried that maybe he’d be annoyed by being paired off with someone who’s got no idea what they’re doing, by someone who looks like you when a man like that probably spends most of his time surrounded by people just as beautiful--

“Really?” You ask, blinking up at him. “I don’t want to be an imposition.”

His laugh is light again, his fingers gently dancing up your arm, a touch that’s intended - you’re sure - to be comforting, but that sends a frisson of electricity all through you.

“Oh, you won’t be. As long as you’re willing to indulge me with dinner first, bella.”

You know that your blood rushes to your face even beneath the powder and the makeup, and you know, too, that there’s no way he misses it. A smirk pulls at the corner of his full mouth, and you question whether you actually fell over and hit your head at some point and are now hallucinating. 

“Perhaps afterwards,” you tell him. “I don’t know if I could dance on a full stomach.”

He laughs, the noise low and smooth. You can feel jealous eyes on your back - and can you blame them? Look at him. 

“I didn’t say it would be dancing, did I?”

“I--” Your brain moves lightning fast, trying to get your brain to respond to him in kind, but he doesn’t give you time to think of something witty. The hand on your arm moves, dancing across your collarbone, brushing the vintage brooch, resting briefly on the full warmth of your cheek, tipping your face up to him. 

“Verpazza, Wednesday night, 9PM,” he says to you. You recognise the name of one of the more upscale restaurants you pass on your way to classes from your shitty rented room in the boarding house for international students, and you fight to stop your eyes widening. Your poor student budget certainly wouldn’t allow for such luxuries. “Ask for Prosciutto’s table if you’re there before me. I’ll take care of it.”

There’s something in his smile that suggests to you he loves the idea of taking care of things; that he’s getting a real thrill out of playing the knight in shining armour. Well. You’ve heard plenty of tell about Italian men (and plenty of horror stories from other people in your class) - but he seems . . . indulgent. Like he loves the idea of providing for someone.

“Like the ham?” You ask him, and a flicker of amusement passes over his face. “Is that your surname?”

A flash of something else in his eyes. You can’t quite name it - but you don’t fail to notice his eyes flicker, as if checking nobody else is listening. He tries to keep his voice easy.

“Mm. An unfortunate family name, and a name that’s stuck.” He winks at you. “You’ll never hear anybody outside of this room call me . . . Armando.” The name sounds wrong on his tongue, the slightest grimace following the syllables. Blue eyes turning icy, just for a moment. He pulls himself back, smiling at you again. “You can call me Prosh, if you want.”

“You don’t seem the nickname type.” He laughs.

“Mm. Well. . . I’d prefer to hear the full thing, but if it’s your voice, usignolo--”

You recognise the nickname and flush, warm. The smile he gives you is crooked and makes your toes curl in your heels, your entire body feel warm, your head feel light. Okay, you might not have made friendly connections . . . but you’ve certainly made some kind of connection. 

“Wednesday?” You ask him, again, wanting to really feel sure. You’ve been . . . stood up, plenty of times. Used as a joke. Your shoulders draw in imperceptibly, but Prosciutto - you try and reconcile calling him after the meat - tilts his head to the side.

“Your phone,” he says, holding out a hand. “Let me put my number in, and you can call it for proof. I’m perfectly serious, cara. I’m a man of my word.” He looks at you softly, hand on your waist, and gently helps guide you out of the studio. Most of the other dancers have left by now, and you can see the instructor glancing towards you and clearly waiting for you two to leave too so she can prepare for her next class. Pausing in the corridor, he looks down at you, face perfectly serious. “I don’t know who’s had the nerve to hurt you in the past . . . but I’m not that kind of person.” 

You bite your lip, and he shifts closer to you. He’s not incredibly tall, but you’re small enough that the height difference feels pronounced. The hand is soft when he tips your chin up, blue eyes meeting blue eyes. His own are half-lidded, drifting down to your lips (when you’d applied the dark red lipstick marketed as ‘kissproof’ this morning, you hadn’t thought that it was going to be something that was tested!). He leans into you and you find yourself unconsciously rising onto your tiptoes--

The kiss he gives you is almost chaste, save for the slightest nip at your lower lip (you think about the gap between his front teeth and feel like you’re going to melt). Your breath stutters against his, the taste of mint toothpaste and smoke and honey leaving a tingle upon your mouth. 

“I’m serious,” he breathes against you, pulling back. “Nine in the evening. Wear something pretty,” his eyes flicker down, caressing the curves of your body in a way that makes you warm all over. “. . . though I don’t doubt you will.”

[mbeebowriting]

draco malfoy x reader

warnings: none other than a kinda ooc draco!

word count: 1.8k

notes: okay this is very specific and super self indulgent but also really sweet and cute so!!! enjoy!!! (also this is unedited bc im too antsy and excited to post it

     the past 2 weeks had overwhelmed you. tests, papers, concerts, forced social gatherings- your energy had just run out. you still had another week to go before any kind of break though- so the timing of your burnout was less than ideal. at this point, you barely had enough energy to talk to your friends, so when draco malfoy tapped on your shoulder during class, you whirled around, ready to fight. what you weren’t expecting was his question.

     “can you help me with this?” you blinked in surprise. she you had short conversations before class, but it still shocked you a little bit.

     “yeah, sure. i’ll show you.” you walked him through the spell a few times, until he was able to execute it well enough to pass. 

     “great, thank you!” he said with a smile. his politeness threw you off, and all you could do was smile and turn back around. what you didn’t see was how his smile fell after that.

     the next day, for whatever reason, he sat next to you, but you were still feeling equally as drained as the day before. at the end of class he stopped you from leaving with yet again, a small conversation.

     “do you think we could meet out of class to work on these charms? you seem to really understand it and i could use some help.”

     “im sorry draco- my schedule is completely packed until our break.” you replied with a sad smile. “i’ve actually got another performance tonight for the staff dinner.”

     “hm. what about after that? we could grab some dinner and study.” you were taken aback again. why was he being so nice to you? you couldn’t turn him down after he’s showing you kindness you’ve never seen before. plus, he was really cute, you’ve always kind of had a thing for him. 

     “alright, how about 8 o’clock in the great hall?”

     “great, it’s a date.” he said with a wink before leaving the class- leaving you flustered and unsure of what just happened.

     after you had finished your performance, you made your way to the great hall, spotting draco on the way. you chatted idly while grabbing some food and a table. draco sat to your right and your textbooks piled up to your left.  once you began studying, you felt the weight of the day hit you, and you ended up zoning out and staring at your textbook. you laid your head in your hand and decided to close your eyes for just one minute. unsurprisingly, you fell asleep. when you woke up, you and draco were the only ones in the room.

     “good morning.” draco said. it was at this point that you realized the position you were in, in your sleep, you had shifted so that  your head was resting on his shoulder. you immediately lifted your head up and avoided eye contact with him. 

     “what time is it?”

     “11:30-ish.”

     “you let me sleep that long?’ you exclaimed.

     “you just seemed so tired and like you needed a break. and plus…” he trailed off. “nevermind.”

     “no no, wait. plus what?” he became visibly flustered.

     “nothing, there is no plus!”

     “tell me what the plus is or i’ll ditch you and hang out with potter instead.” his eyes widened- did that actually make him mad?

     “fine. i was just going to say you looked cute on my shoulder like that.” now it was your turn to be flustered. suddenly your textbook was incredibly interesting. you could feel him smirking beside you, but couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. he leaned into to your ear and sent chills down your spine as he spoke. “but to be fair, you look cute all the time.” you covered your face with your hands to hide your blush. he went to pull your hands away, and chuckled as you swatted them away. “hey, you asked for this! why are you so embarrassed anyway, i’m just stating facts.” you sighed in response, but couldn’t hold back a smile. 

     “i need to go draco, i have another concert tomorrow and i need to be at my best.” your smile fell.

     “alright. i hope it goes well.” you gave him a sad smile and couldn’t stop the tears from pricking at your eyes. “hey woah, what’s going on? are you okay?”

     “yeah.” you said shakily and unconvincingly, to which he gave you a look. “i’m just exhausted and… i really wish my family could be here for this concert.” you were so focused on talking without crying your barely noticed draco’s hand holding your own. “everyone else’s families come for this concert, it’s our last one, but my parents decided… they would rather visit my sisters than me. i just wish someone would come support me at this last concert.” one tear was set free as you blinked. it rolled down your cheek and dropped onto draco’s hand. he was clearly caught off guard by your sudden change in emotion, but his voice was steady when he spoke.

     “what time is it?”

     “no, draco-”

     “and where?”

     “draco you don’t have to come out of pity, it’s okay. this is how it’s always been, i’m used to it. i stopped looking for familiar faces in the audience years ago.”

     “what? that’s not okay! when and where is it. i’ll be there.” you studied his eyes before answering.

     “it’s here, after they serve dinner.”

     “i’ll be there.” 

     “...why?”      “because you deserve to have someone in the audience-”

     “no, why are you being so nice to me? this feels so… out of character for you.” his eyes darted around the room, looking anywhere but your own. 

     “i- you just haven’t done anything wrong for me to… uhh…” he struggled to find the word. “tease you for.” you couldn’t help but feel disappointed at his response.

     “well, thank you for that i guess. but we should really get going. it’s late.” he agreed with you, so you packed up all your things and went your separate ways.

     “(y/n)!” your roommate shouted as you walked in. “where on GOD have you been? don’t you have a concert tomorrow and classes all morning?” you flopped down on your bed.

     “yeah, since when do you track my schedule?”

     “you were complaining about it in charms.”

     “fair enough, that does sound like me. but why are you so worried about this suddenly?”

     “hmm, not worried, just curious.” she said, sitting next to you on your bed. “i happened to walk by the great hall just an hour ago,” your eyes went wide. “and saw you with none other than the prince of slytherin himself: draco malfoy.”

     “don’t jump to conclusions, we were just studying.”

     “for god’s sake (y/n), you were asleep on his shoulder! did he ever say it was a date? i bet he did.” 

     “well yeah, but i thought he was just teasing. he does that.” she gave you the same look that draco had given you earlier. “okay and he also called me cute and is coming to my concert tomorrow but don’t read into that, he probably wasn’t serious!” 

     “guess we’ll just have to wait and see.”

     “what?”

     “well if he has a thing for you too, he’ll be at the concert.”

     “too? excuse you?”

     “i love you to death (y/n) but you’re a terrible liar, and you’re not very subtle.”

     the day’s classes had flown by- it was concert time. you arrived early, helping set up the chairs and music, and once you had settled into your spot and people had filled in, you couldn’t believe what you saw. what seemed like the entirety of the slytherin house was packed into the front section, with one familiar asshole front and center. he caught your eye and sent you a smile. you couldn’t even think of what to do back, you were too shook.

     the concert itself went by quickly. you played beautifully, and all of your emotions poured through your instrument. by the end, you were shaky, emotional, and nervous to see draco after. you didn’t have much time to compose yourself however, as he was the first person you saw as you walked off stage. before you could say anything, he wrapped you in a hug (but quickly pulled away once he realized people were staring).

     “you did incredible!”

     “thank you- how did you… why are there… what?” you could barely get a sentence out.

     “i just asked some people to come and support you, you deserve a big cheering section.”

     “draco, i…” suddenly you were aware of everyone standing around you two. “can we maybe go somewhere a little quieter?” he nodded and pulled you through the crowd, out the door, and down the hallway into the courtyard. he sat down on a bench and motioned for you to sit next to him, which you gladly did. you took a deep breath before speaking, trying to kill your nerves that arose with the thought of sharing your feelings with him. you were so in your head, you barely processed what he said when he spoke.

      “you really did well up there today. and you look stunning too, by the way.” again, no thoughts heady empty, you could not think of a response for the life of you. he chuckled. “i’m sure you’ve figured it out by now, i’m not just nice to you because you ‘done nothing wrong’ or whatever i said yesterday.” he stared at you, waiting for a response, but all you could do was smile and let your palms sweat. “are you really gonna make me say it? it’s because i like you (y/n).” the final twist of the knife. there were simultaneously one million and absolutely no thoughts swimming around your head, but when you didn’t respond he started to lean away and looked hurt.

     “wait no- i’m sorry! this is just a lot all at once! i like you too draco.” you rushed out. he returned to your side, eyebrows raised.

     “yeah?”

     “yeah. you must have charmed me or something, because i really do. somehow.”

      “hey! first of all, rude. second of all, i’m terrible at charms. you know that.” you two joked back and forth until the moon shone brightly up above. after you both agreed it was time to head back to your respective dorms, a nervous silence fell. 

     “sooo…” you drawled on. “good night i guess?”

     “good night to you too.” silence again. “do you have time for another study date tomorrow? i spent most of our last one being nervous and trying not to wake you up.”

     “yeah! i’m free tomorrow night if you want?”

     “alright, it’s a date.” he said for leaning down to kiss you, and walking away. leaving you flustered and unsure of what just happened for the second time that week.

[btssavedmylifeblr]

Hi bee, i hope you're doing wellI just wanna ask for some tips bc I can't seem to do the "show don't tell" thing when writing. I have no idea why, it's weirdly difficult. Any websites or good examples about it? I'm kinda disappointed in myself. Thank u for being so kind! Much love to you

Ah yes, the classic advice that everyone says but is very hard to actually define. As a beginning writer, I always found this especially confusing because all writing is “telling” in the sense that you are telling a story. You only have words. It’s also a very hard thing to find clear examples of because “telling” might only be a sentence or two but good “showing” might take a whole scene, a whole chapter or a whole novel to do right. It’s something that takes practice and, unlike rules of grammar, can’t be fixed overnight. 

I don’t always get it right (and “right” gets pretty subjective with this topic), but as an exercise, let’s compare the first scene I ever wrote to the opening scene of Void. 

Excerpt One: Opening Scene of If You’re Struggling

(Disclaimer: I am so embarrassed by this cringey-ness. There is a reason I deleted it from Tumblr. Please don’t judge me too harshly. Writing is a learning process)

To illustrate the point (and because Tumblr’s formatting options suck) I’ve put a strikethrough on all the parts I would consider “telling” instead of “showing”.

“Have a great first day, honey!” Your boyfriend gives you a quick kiss as you grab your coffee and head out the door for your first day at your new job. You’ve been eagerly awaiting this day for several weeks now, since your successful interview with BigHit Entertainment. Up until now, you’ve been working as a makeup artist on a spec basis here in Seoul, but this is going to be your first full-time job as a makeup artist and stylist.

At the BigHit offices, you are welcomed in by the head stylist whom you met at your interview and she shows you around the offices.

“Ok, we need to get to the dressing room” she says, clapping her hands. “The boys are recording their dance practice today, and we need to do their makeup beforehand.”

Your heart beats a little faster when you realize you’re about to meet BTS. A month ago you had never heard of them, but since getting this job two weeks ago, you’ve been a bit obsessed - listening to their music non-stop as you do housework, watching all of their music videos over and over, seeking out all of their Bangtan bombs and television appearances. When your boyfriend caught you watching the “Boy in Luv” video for about the 30th time on your laptop, he wrapped his arms around your shoulders and kissed your cheek.

“Do I need to be worried about you spending so much time with these boys?” He teased.

You turned your head and kissed him reassuringly on the lips. “No!” you giggled in mock offense “look at them, they’re just kids!”

You enter the dressing room and are pointed to a makeup chair in front of a mirror. You set about cleaning up your station and setting up your kit before the boys arrive. You hear the boys coming before you see them -  shouting and laughing down the hallway before they get to the door. You are still setting up your station when the door clangs open and they burst into the room.

You turn around to find a tall, older blond boy already sitting in your chair. He gives you a smile and shakes your hand. “Hi. I’m Namjoon. You must be the new stylist.” He introduces himself as the leader and offers to help you get to know the other members. “Watch out for the younger ones, they like to play jokes on each other and everyone else.”

After Namjoon, you meet Jin. He is polite and spends most of his time in the chair filling you in on his recommendations for the other members “Be sure you get underneath Yoongi’s eyes, he was up late last night”, “Don’t go too dark on Jungkook’s lip color”, and so on. When you’re finished, he smiles gratefully at you and stands up to go.

Hoseok comes running over and throws his arm around Jin’s shoulders. “Jin’s make-up is easy since he’s so handsome already, right noona?”  he teases Jin.

“Yes, precisely.” Jin replies, not embarrassed at all, but gives you a smile before heading off to hair.

Hoseok is the easiest to talk to out of all of the boys. He peppers you with questions as you do his makeup, all about where you’re from and where you’ve worked before. Before you know it, you’ve told him all about your life, including how you moved from South Korea to the US when you were six for your dad’s work and moved back when you were sixteen. “Oh wow!” He says excitedly. “We can all practice our English with you!”

While you are talking, a loud commotion comes from the back of the room as Jimin and Taehyung are playing Rock, Paper, Scissors and shouting about something.

“What’s going on?” You ask Hoseok and he smiles, a little embarrassed.

“They’re having a disagreement about who gets to sit in your chair next…” He replies. You just blush and look away.

While the younger boys are distracted with their battle, Yoongi plops down into your chair. He introduces himself with a nod and puts in headphones.  About halfway through applying his makeup, you realize that he has fallen asleep. You look over at Namjoon, “What do I do now? Should I wake him up?” You ask.

Namjoon just chuckles, “You can keep going, he’ll just sleep through it.” When you’re finished, you gently wake him back up and point him in the direction of the hairstylist. He grumbles appreciatively and stumbles off.

Jimin has apparently won the game and comes rushing over to fill the vacant chair. “Hi. I’m Jimin.” He flashes you a devilish grin, then adds “You know… you are a lot younger and cuter than our last stylist…”

You’re a bit flustered, but Namjoon saves you. “Jimin, you can’t talk to our stylist like that!” He smacks Jimin gently upside the head and suddenly Jimin is just an adorable kid again.

“Sorry, sorry, sorry” he says and you get to work on his makeup.

Taehyung watches you doing Jimin’s makeup, making goofy faces in the mirror when your back is turned, trying to get Jimin to laugh and mess up all your hard work. He slides in when Jimin is done. He spends most of his time in the chair shouting across the room to Jimin, who is now having his hair done. You keep having to gently remind him to sit still.

The maknae is last. “Hi, I’m Jungkook.” He quietly introduces himself. He is really shy and barely says anything else to you as you do his makeup, but you can tell he is trying really hard to stay perfectly still, despite several attempts from the older members to distract him.

Once all of the boys are ready, their manager comes and rounds them up and you hear them running back down the hall to the dance studio laughing and joking. You breathe a sigh of relief and can’t fight back the smile that spreads across your face.

The first few weeks of working at BigHit are fantastic. The boys continue to warm up to you as you get to know them better. Namjoon loves talking with you in English, especially really quickly so his bandmates can’t follow what he’s saying. Of course, you can’t always follow what he’s saying either, but he is so thoughtful and full of ideas. Yoongi still often falls asleep, but he also now comes in with music recommendations for you and hands you the other ear of his headphones while you do his makeup. Hoseok continues to be your favorite, telling you all about his childhood, the audition and debut process, and filling you in on the latest gossip. Jimin and V continue to cause trouble, but are so adorable when they do that you can never stay mad at them. And Jungkook continues to be quiet and sit perfectly still in the makeup chair. He is so chatty with his bandmates that you are a little sad he isn’t more comfortable with you, but it does make his makeup easier to do than Taehyung’s.

Thoughts:

So there a lot of things here like it being her first day of work, her being nervous, and the mannerisms of the boys that would have been much better if I had showed them through dialogue, description, and physical mannerisms rather than telling them outright. It would have done a lot better job of placing the reader in the scene and would read as a bit less cringey. The last paragraph in this scene is particular egregious because instead of allowing the reader to see those relationships build over time and really invest us in those characters, I just summarize in one paragraph. 

As a result, we get to the end of this scene and we know a lot of facts, but we don’t really have any good sense of who this character is or why we should care about her or empathize with her. 

Excerpt Two: Opening Scene of Void

(Disclaimer: This is also not perfect, but it is much improved from the previous)

“Can you see them?”

You blink your eyes as you stare into the microscope, squinting against the bright light. You’ve been staring into this scope for two hours, searching for tiny signs of life.

“Maybe?” you reply. Your colleague leans in closer, close enough to smell his shampoo. Your eyes begin to water as you scour the field of view, checking each fleck of dirt for your prize. But again, you came up empty. “No, I don’t think so.”

You lean back in your chair, closing your eyes and rubbing them to relieve the strain. You didn't get much sleep last night. But you can’t bring yourself to complain to Hoseok.

He groans, standing up and twisting side to side. Your back aches in sympathy from bending over these finicky slides all morning. “We’re going to run out of samples.” The corners of his mouth pull down into a frown.

“We’ll run out of kerosene first,” you mutter. You look back through the lens one last time, hoping you missed something.  

“They should have sent us with more.” Your fellow science officer stands up and walks over to chemical storage.

“Yeah, because large amounts of volatile organic liquids are a great thing to have on spacecraft." No one else on this ship would appreciate your joke. It’s not a good joke. But Hoseok humors you and gives you a small chuckle.

“Should we try an acid?” he suggests, as he examines the inside of the storage cabinet.

“Acetic?” He nods and scratches his chest as he fishes out the necessary bottle. He walks the acid back to your lab station and sets it down on the counter next to you.

He sighs and puts his hands on his hips, resuming his twisting back and forth. He clasps his hands together and does a long slow stretch upwards. Your eye catches on the sliver of exposed skin popping into view as his shirt rides up.

His smooth skin stretches across well-defined muscles, distracting your serious scientific mind. You lick your lips as you imagine how warm he would feel under your palm. You stare at the gap between his navel and the top of his pants. Not for the first time, you find yourself wondering what his skin tastes like.

“We should dilute it.” His shirt falls back down, breaking the spell. You look away, shaking your head, embarassed by your own lacivious thoughts. You’re a professional. A highly educated astronaut and scientist. You have a PhD, for god’s sake. Focus on the mission at hand.

“Yeah, we should.” You nod in confimation before standing up to get some glassware. “What concentration?”

As you turn around to reach the water tap, Hoseok moves to reach the tablet behind you. Your small lab is so narrow that you end up colliding with him. You bounce backwards off his body, cradling your beaker of water, headed straight back toward all of your ship’s glassware. You panic. Visions of shattering thousands of dollars of lab supplies fly through your head. But Hoseok catches you before you stumble into the cabinetry. You breathe a sigh of relief when you realize he’s got you in his arms.

“Fuck.” You smile. “Sorry, Hoseok.”

“It’s okay.” He laughs, shaking his head. “My fault.” His hands linger on you as you both chuckle. You feel the heat of his touch seeping through your jumpsuit.

Despite living in such tight quarters, it’s rare that you’re ever this close to him. You try to avoid physical contact with the crew out of self-preservation.

He smells good. Hoseok always smells good. While your ship smells mechanical and sterile, the man holding you smells warm and human. It’s comforting, but in a way that makes you ache with how you long to bury yourself in him.

Your colleague lets go of you and steps backwards, coughing into his shirt sleeve. He picks up the tablet and scrolls through your research materials. The warmth of his hands begins to fade from your shoulders. He finds the correct dilution factor and reads it out to you.

You measure out the appropriate amounts of acid mixing it with water. Hoseok retrieves another fragment of the meteoroid that you’re scouring for microorganisms. When he returns, you cover the sample with the acid, stopper the flask and set it to oscillate for a hour.

“Nothing to do now but wait.” You sit down on your stool and drum on your thighs. The idea of being alone with Hoseok for another hour fills you with nervous energy. It's a relief when he excuses himself to the bathroom.

It didn’t used to be this hard. When you started this mission two years ago, you had no problem being alone with any of your crew members. You were professionals doing a job together, and there wasn’t time or energy for idle sexual tension. But as the mission drags on, you have begun to feel more and more on edge. And it’s not only Hoseok. You are finding it harder and harder to be alone with any of the crew. When you spend all night fantasizing about someone, normal conversation becomes difficult.  

You stare at the flask rocking back and forth on the counter and let your mind wander. You replay your previous clumsy moment.  You imagine Hoseok catching you in his arms again, but this time you grab him and kiss him. You smell him and taste him and surround yourself in him. You close your eyes and follow the fantasy further. You imagine dropping to your knees and sucking him off up against the glassware cabinet. You imagine the way the lab equipment would clink as he bent you over the lab counter.

Hoseok returns, brandishing his tablet. “I got the new article from Geology on microfossils, if you want to take a look.” You sigh and nod.

Thoughts: So there is definitely some telling happening in this scene too. Telling is not always the worst thing in the world, although I wrote this scene nearly two years ago, so if I could go back and edit some of this out now I would. But what I want to point out here is how much information I convey without ever having to explicitly spell it out: we’re on a spaceship, the OC is a scientist with a crush on her colleague, she is touch-starved, they are searching for fossils, etc. And I think it does a much better job than the previous example at drawing the reader into the scene. 

___

In general, here some good pointers for moving more in the showing direction:

1. Focus as much as you can on the present moment. What is your character thinking right now? What are they feeling? What information are they getting from their senses?

2. Use dialogue. Dialogue is a great way to show relationships between characters and fill in backstory without long paragraphs of just “telling” your readers stuff. Just be careful that it sounds like real dialogue and not exposition masquerading as dialogue. No one tells anyone their whole life story the first time they meet them or repeats information that the other person would obviously know. 

3. Trust your readers to fill in the gaps. Readers are very good at picking up context clues. You don’t need to spell everything out for them. If you put them in the scene and describe the world around them well, they will figure out lots of things just from context.

Hope that helps! The only real solution is to play around with it and practice and see what you like. Good luck!

[ripley95]

Echoes of Old Embers

Chapter 4

Pairing: F!Shepard/Kaidan Alenko

Rating: T

Chapter length: 4.6K

Story Tags: friends to lovers, mini slow burn, angst

Story Synopsis:

After surviving the war, one of Shepard’s biggest regrets was rejecting Kaidan at Apollo’s. Fate has a way of bringing Jane and Kaidan back into each other’s lives. A misunderstanding with his family makes Kaidan and Shepard relive old history and question where they stand.

Link to Chapter 1 on AO3

Chapter Synopsis:

Kaidan and Shepard make their way to his family home on the orchard. Shepard finally meets Kaidan’s family.

Link to Chapter 4 on AO3

Tumblr Links:

Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 13 | Chapter 14

Read the chapter here below the cut:

Shepard was looking out the window, admiring the view from Kaidan’s rental skycar. They were well on their way to the orchard. The sky was relatively empty heading towards the Okanagan, not much traffic getting in the way of the scenery. They passed beautiful mountainscapes still covered in snow. The whole journey into the interior was more scenic than she was expecting. BC offered a lot of Earth’s beauty, and she figured she’d try to enjoy what she could from this trip. ‘Try’ was the operative word there, still thinking this plan was a mistake. She bounced her uninjured leg nervously, contemplating how difficult this week was about to be. Something Kaidan seemed to be picking up on the closer they got to the orchard.

“You alright there, Shepard? You look like you’re getting a little restless.”

“You could say that,” she said, looking over at him with a smirk. “If you’ll recall, you forced me to drink two whole bottles of water before we left, not to mention my coffee. I think I’m ready for a pit stop.” It was the truth, but she’d be lying if that was the whole reason behind her lively leg. She was getting more and more nervous, the closer they got to their destination.

Kaidan smirked at her. “Sorry about that. Maybe I should have let you pace the water a bit, but I still think you’ll end up thanking me for it later. Think you can hold it, though? The orchard’s only a couple minutes away.”

“Already?”

“Yup. Just over that hill up there,” he said, pointing ahead of them.

“Well, in that case, I’m pretty sure I can hold it.” Her leg continued to bounce impatiently, despite what she said.

They rode in silence the rest of the way. It really wasn’t far off at this point, and the thought of it only put her more on edge. Any minute now, she’d be meeting Kaidan’s family. Yet another thing that reeked of intimacy. This was something that people who were romantically involved did, and yet again, she felt as though she was stealing someone else’s place that should have been here instead of her. Kaidan wasn’t fazed at all as she glanced back towards him. He was just steering the car with a wistful smile.

No matter how he might have felt about their relationship, he was still here for a celebration and to get to be here for his sister on her special day. He would be welcoming someone new into his family. It at least made her happy that he was getting the chance to experience this. She knew this was going to be a stressful week for herself, but seeing the look on his face made her feel better about it.

Just like that, they were already making their descent. Kaidan was right, the ride was short. They made a soft landing on a patch of grass in front of the house. She practically bounced out of the car with her nervous energy. Kaidan went to the trunk to grab the bags. As Shepard reached for hers, he quickly intercepted it, and she looked at him questioningly.

“You know I can carry my own bag, right? I’m not that debilitated.”

“Maybe not, but after what I saw this morning, I don’t want you to be adding any unnecessary weight on that leg,” he said, taking the bag and putting the strap over his shoulder.

Shepard chuckled at that. Always the caretaker. She just wasn’t used to relying on anyone else to make things easier for her. “I guess I can’t argue with that. After you,” she finally agreed as she directed her hand towards the house, still fidgeting a bit thanks to her need to go to the bathroom.

He made his way up the steps and waited for Shepard to follow after him. “Well, I hope you’re ready to meet my family. I’m warning you now, they can be a bit much,” he said with a laugh, his hand hovering over the doorbell.

“I’m sure they’re fine. Even if I wasn’t ready, though, I’m about to pee my pants if this waits any longer.”

“Right,” he said with a smirk as he rang the bell.

As they waited, Shepard examined their surroundings. This was where Kaidan was raised. His childhood home. She never had anything like that, always changing ships, or being dropped off at boarding school while her mother was on active duty. She could see the appeal of having a place to always call home, not to mention being raised close to nature. It must have been nice, not that she begrudged her own upbringing by any means. It was just different. The house was very classic looking, made out of real wood, layered in soft hues of paint with a large porch on the front of the house that they were currently standing on. The property was stunning and bigger than she expected. Well kept, too, barely any signs of the war leftover. She didn’t really know what to expect when she agreed to come out here, but she was pleasantly surprised that they already managed to have it looking so good after the end of the war.

One of the windows must have been open, because they heard some shuffling from inside, followed by someone yelling.

“Kaidan’s here!!” they heard before there was a large commotion of thumping.

That made Shepard look at Kaidan, surprised. She wasn’t expecting such a reaction from an Alenko. She had envisioned them to be reserved and quiet. Then again, her only example to go off of was him, so that wasn’t necessarily a fair assessment.

“That was Maisie. She can be… enthusiastic. Acts like a teenager, even though she’s well into her twenties already. Like I said, they can be a bit much.”

“Ah,” Shepard said with a nod, still a little surprised from the complete contrast to Kaidan.

“I’ve already got it, Maisie. Calm down,” they heard someone shout back before the door opened.

Shepard got the briefest glimpse of the woman opening the door, before a blur of colour shot right past her. Said blur of colour jumped onto Kaidan, hugging him with what looked like the force of a death-grip. Kaidan promptly dropped the bags in his hands as he staggered backwards, nearly falling down the steps.

The woman that opened the door walked outside onto the porch, looking like she was trying to greet her brother as well. She had strikingly similar features to Kaidan, the same dark hair and eyes. There wasn’t any denying that they were related, likely Raiya, the oldest, if Shepard had to guess. There was something about her serious disposition that screamed maturity. She made eye contact with Shepard, and she stopped dead in her tracks. There was an expression of shock at seeing who Kaidan brought with him as his plus one. Shepard waved awkwardly as Kaidan’s younger sister was still dramatically hugging her brother.

“Aaah, I missed you so much. You’re the only cool sibling, you know that?!”

“I’m standing right here, Maisie,” the older sister said, finally moving her attention away from Shepard.

“Oh yeah. Forget I said that,” Maisie said, finally lowering herself from the hug, not even noticing the awkward silence filling the air behind her.

“The only reason you say that is because I’m the one gone long enough for you to miss me, you know,” Kaidan said as he smiled at her. It was one of warmth that looked like he was happy to be home, seeing his family again. Shepard couldn’t help but notice how good it looked on him.

Suddenly, the sound of a dish dropping came from one of the rooms in the house, prompting everyone to turn towards the noise. Shepard had a perfect view, noticing two other women in what looked to be a dining room just past the main foyer. Both of them stood there, staring. That must have been Kaidan’s mother and Libby. All of the Alenkos shared similar features, no denying their relation. Libby was acting flustered for having just dropped the dish as she bent to pick it up. Luckily it didn’t actually break, and they were examining if anything could be salvaged. Shepard couldn’t help but think she seemed a little perturbed, too. That was terrific. She was already making a horrible first impression, causing people to drop dishes.

With the commotion drawing everyone’s attention, Maisie was the last one to finally see Shepard standing there. “Holy shit,” she muttered out. She also had that trademark Alenko black hair, but hers had streaks of bright blue and pink running through it. From what little Shepard knew of her, she could already tell it matched her colourful personality.

All eyes were on Jane now, as she stood there awkwardly, immediately prompting her to look towards Kaidan. “I guess you forgot to tell them I was coming?” she said with a nervous laugh. She was usually the picture of confidence, able to keep her cool, yet somehow having the attention of all of the Alenko women on her was enough to make her anxious.

“Uh,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. “I told everyone I was using my plus one last night.”

“Yeah, sure, but none of us believed you!” Maisie said, hitting Kaidan in the abdomen with the back of her hand playfully.

“You also left out who it was that you were bringing,” Raiya cut in, sounding much less enthused than her lively sister.

“I didn’t think I had to,” Kaidan said, sounding a bit confused about everyone’s reaction.

“You didn’t think we’d be interested in knowing you were dating Commander Shepard?!” Maisie cut in sharply.

That made both Kaidan and Shepard go wide-eyed at each other, their mouths agape.

“That’s not- I never-” Kaidan said, stumbling over his words.

He was interrupted by the sound of Libby sniffling, and Kaidan’s mother comforting her and bringing her back into the kitchen.

Shepard stared at Kaidan in a way that was begging for help. Somehow, everything that could have gone wrong was going wrong and then some. She had no idea what to do in this situation, and she still had to go to the bathroom.

“Uh, right, Shepard has to use the bathroom,” he said, picking up their bags, and guiding her through the doorway and down the hall, his hand resting on her lower back.

“Aww, how cute! He calls her Shepard,” Maisie squeaked from behind them.

Kaidan dropped the bags by the bathroom door and gently grasped her shoulder to get her attention.

“I am so sorry, Shepard. I have no idea what that was or how they came to that conclusion. All I said is that I was using my plus one, I swear. I’ll go clear this up.”

“It’s okay,” she said. She wasn’t sure if she was trying to reassure Kaidan or herself at that point. It was a simple misunderstanding, but it wouldn’t help her own situation and how she was already feeling about Kaidan.

Kaidan gave her a quick nod before trying to go and smooth things over with his family.

She closed the door behind her. It was made out of thin plywood. The kind that was hollow in the middle, so as she closed it, she could still hear everything that was going on.

“Commander Shepard?! Kaidan, are you kidding me?” It was said with a scolding anger that Shepard wasn’t expecting.

“Libby,” he said, already sounding exasperated. “I told you I was bringing someone.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t say it was Commander Shepard! The whole point of a wedding is to celebrate the people getting married. No one’s going to care about Derek and me with her here!”

Well, that explained the anger then. This was an issue that she hadn’t even considered. When she joined the Alliance, gaining celebrity status wasn’t exactly on the agenda, but she had gained it all the same. It was even one of the reasons she had opted to come with Kaidan instead of staying in one of the refugee camps. Libby’s concerns were warranted, considering how much of a problem her fame had become even before the end of the war. She couldn’t land on the Citadel without being stopped by a reporter or people wanting to talk to her. It was even a bit of a problem at the hospital where she was staying in London, but they at least had security. How could she have not thought of this complication when agreeing to go to a wedding of all things? The last thing she wanted to do was steal Libby’s thunder during her own wedding. This sure had turned into a colossal mess much faster than she expected. That didn’t change the fact that she was already here, though, stuck in this situation for better or worse.

Shepard heard more muffled conversation through the door, so she put her ear flush up against it to hear better.

“Libby, you are so missing the point. When has Kaidan ever brought anyone home? That means they’re serious. How could you not have told me?” 

That was definitely Maisie.

“Guys, I think everyone’s gotten the wrong ide-” Kaidan tried to cut in.

“Yeah, the Savior of the Galaxy, Kaidan? I don’t think any of us were expecting that.” It was Raiya this time.

“Hey, would you be quiet, please? She doesn’t like being called that. I didn’t bring her here to be paraded around. She’s still a real person underneath all of that, you know. It would be nice if you could all treat her like one.”

“Oooh, look at that, already coming to her defense. Kaidan’s got it bad. So just how serious are you two? Is there going to be another Alenko wedding in our future?”

“Guys, you’re all reading way too m-” He said, getting cut off yet again. He certainly came from a family of strong women, all fighting to be heard.

“All right! That’s enough. I swear, the moment all of you get into the same room together, it’s like you all revert back into being a bunch of wild children again,” Kaidan’s mother cut in. “Where have your manners gone? You’re almost all in your thirties for goodness sake. Whether you like it or not, Commander Shepard is a guest in our house, and we will treat her as such,” she scolded. It sounded like it did the trick if the following silence meant anything. “Kaidan, she seems lovely. I look forward to getting to know her better, but now, will everyone help me set the table. Please.” Shepard heard her huff out in exasperation.

That lecture wasn’t effective enough to completely stop the snarky behaviour, but everyone was speaking more quietly. It was harder to hear them through the door now. Shepard took that as reason enough to stop eavesdropping and finally went to relieve herself.

As soon as she was done and washed her hands, she exited the bathroom. She was almost startled by Kaidan pacing right in front of the door.

“Shepard, I think we have a problem.”

“So I heard,” she said, not being able to contain a smile. As much as this had become a stressful situation, the sheer absurdity of it was enough to make her want to laugh.

“Well, I’m glad you find it funny,” he said, her own smile bringing one out in him. “I’m really sorry. I can’t get a word in edgewise. I tried to tell them that we’re not - you know.”

“I heard. I know,” she assured him. She wanted him to know she didn’t harbour any ill will towards him over the confusion. “It was a simple misunderstanding. I’m sure we can smooth things over when they calm down.”

“If they ever calm down,” Kaidan huffed out seriously, as his gaze drifted off in frustration. “I haven’t seen them so determined to believe something before in my life.”

That didn’t bode well.

“I guess the most we can do is just keep emphasising that we’re not actually together,” he said. The words stung more than she expected. “Hopefully, they’ll get the picture eventually.”

“Sounds like a plan,” Shepard said, not sounding very enthusiastic about it, but it was all they had.

“I’m really sorry about the confusion. I really didn’t even think to mention it was you I was bringing. I guess to them, you’re still larger than life. To me, you’re my friend, which is who I said I was bringing. They somehow made up their own narrative about it. I didn’t think it needed to be explained more at the time. In hindsight, I can definitely see where I went wrong,” he said, sounding genuinely apologetic.

“It’s okay, Kaidan. I know you wouldn’t have done something like this on purpose. Don’t worry about it. We stick to the truth enough, I’m sure they’ll follow suit eventually.”

Kaidan nodded, still upset for having caused such a misunderstanding. “Okay,” he said, not sounding entirely convinced with the idea. “I guess we should get back to them. The table’s set, and they’re waiting for us.”

Shepard nodded in agreement, so Kaidan turned to lead them towards the dining room.

When they finally got there, Libby was still scathing. Definitely off on the wrong foot with her, it would seem. Shepard figured she’d have to try extra hard to get on her good side now, already tarnishing something that was supposed to be a special time for her. Kaidan’s mother and Maisie at least greeted her with a friendly smile that helped her feel welcome. Raiya was harder to grasp, not giving up any outward judgments through appearance alone. This was going to be one hell of a week. The silence was so awkward, Shepard just offered a smile to everyone for a moment, before glancing back to Kaidan for help.

“Uh, right. Well, is everyone ready to eat, then?” he asked, looking around the room. “Mom and Libby have been working on a big meal all morning.”

“Oh,” Shepard said, finally looking at the table setting. There was a big roast prepared and plenty of fresh vegetables and potatoes. It looked like quite the feast. “Everything looks amazing. I haven’t had a good, fresh meal in a long time.”

“Oh, well, in that case, let’s dig in, shall we?” Kaidan’s mother said with a big smile, proud of her accomplishments, and happy to see that her hard work would be appreciated by someone. She was the first to sit, taking the head of the table. “No need for manners now, just grab whatever you want,” she said, pointing to the chairs to prompt everyone to follow suit.

Jane looked at Kaidan to follow his direction. She wanted to make sure she wasn’t stealing anyone’s spot or stepping on even more toes. He quickly took notice that she was waiting for his lead, and went to pull out a chair for her.

“Oooh, look at that, Kaidan’s being such a gentleman,” Maisie said as she sat at the foot of the table.

“Yeah, about that,” Kaidan spoke up. “Shepard and I are not together,” he finally managed to get out without being interrupted. It was a relief to both of them.

“Oh come on,” Maisie said with a laugh as she started dishing some food onto her plate. “With the way you’ve been acting? There’s no way that’s true. If you’re just trying to downplay whatever’s going on between the two of you to avoid breaking the regs or something, you should know that your secret’s safe with us.”

Kaidan let out a sigh, and rubbed his forehead, hardly able to believe that this was happening.

“All right. That’s enough, Maisie. Leave them alone.”

Maisie finally listened to that well enough, but something about the whole situation didn’t seem very finalized.

Kaidan quickly acted as though everything was normal and plated some pot roast before passing it on to Shepard, which is when he broke into the conversation again. “We didn’t get to do any actual introductions, so--”

“Wait, no. I think I have a pretty good idea of who everyone must be,” Shepard said as she took a piece of the pot roast before passing the plate. She figured maybe showing a genuine interest in them might put her back on their good side.

“You have to be Maisie. Awesome hair, by the way,” she said with a genuine smile.

“Thank you,” Maisie said with a smile, glancing over to her sisters with an impressed look on her face.

Continuing around the table, “You must be Libby, and uh, I just wanted to say congratulations. This must be such an exciting time for you,” she said, trying to be extra nice.

Libby said a quiet ‘thanks’ as reciprocation, clearly not happy still, but at least trying to maintain pleasantries. Shepard just nodded at that, knowing that things weren’t going to be smoothed over for her unless she was assured that her wedding day could go off smoothly. That was an issue for another time, though.

“Raiya,” she said with a smile. Raiya just nodded, smiling back. Shepard still wasn’t exactly sure how to read her yet, but she supposed it was better than Libby. Shepard glanced at Kaidan for confirmation after that. The look he gave her was even more surprised than when he learned that she remembered all of their names. It was almost as though he hadn’t expected her to pay attention all those times he discussed his family with her. Especially not to have enough detail to have determined who everyone was on her own. She gave him a warm smile as she tried to move on to the last woman in the room.

“Not together, my ass,” Maisie mumbled under her breath in a way that was still audible to everyone else in the room, and Kaidan rolled his eyes.

Shepard wasn’t sure how to respond to that, so after a bit of an awkward pause, she continued. “And that leaves you, Mrs. Alenko. I’m sorry, but I never actually got your first name.”

“That was impressive. We’re a big group to have gotten everyone right. You can call me Ada.”

“It’s a pleasure to finally meet all of you,” Shepard said.

Maisie just stared at Shepard blankly before looking around the table. “Oh, come on! Seriously? They’re clearly together.”

Shepard and Kaidan shared a bit of a concerned look between the two of them. Apparently, her plan to get on everyone’s good side was just making this other issue of theirs worse, and now she regretted it.

“Just ignore her,” Ada interrupted. “What about you, though. Surely the great Commander Shepard must have a first name. It’s surprisingly well hidden from the public. I can’t say that I’ve ever heard it.”

Shepard had to laugh at that. It was somehow surprisingly well-hidden. Not only from the public, but even from people she was close to in her real life. Everyone had always called her Shepard ever since she was young. Likely a side effect of growing up in the military. Come to think of it, the only people that ever really called her Jane was her own mother, and Kaidan. Kaidan had only ever used that name briefly when they were together, though, and quickly reverted back to Shepard ever since.

“I do have one. Shocking, I know. It’s Jane.”

Ada gave her a genuine smile at that. “Well, it’s lovely to meet you, Jane.”

Shepard smiled back at the sincerity of it. She figured it must be strange to meet ‘Commander Shepard’ given her service record and media coverage. Maybe ‘Jane’ would be a little easier to see the person underneath all of that. This was supposed to be shore leave after all—a personal trip with a friend on top of that. If ever there was a time to put her rank aside and be Jane, it was now.

“The feeling is mutual. Kaidan’s told me so much about all of you. It’s nice to finally put faces to the names,” Shepard said.

Ada smiled at that, and everyone took a moment to eat. It took Maisie a second longer than everyone else to start eating as she sat there looking like she was about to burst. She clearly wanted to say more but didn’t want to be yelled at by her mother.

“Well, I hope you’re okay with waiting a bit before you can settle in. Kaidan only told us last night that he’d be bringing someone.”

“Sorry about that,” Shepard cut in. “You can blame that one on me. I was actually only just released from the hospital, so it was on short notice for everyone.”

“Oh no, I didn’t realise you were still recovering. Your injuries must have been quite serious.”

“You could say that,” Shepard said, warily, not really wanting to relive the worst of it right now. “I guess the important part is that I’m doing much better now,” she said, as she glanced over to Kaidan momentarily. She was almost surprised to see a look of genuine gratitude at the statement before she looked back to Ada. “I still need to be doing the exercises they’ve been teaching me in physical therapy, but I’ve been feeling much more like myself over the last month.”

“Well, I’m glad to hear you’re doing better,” she said with a warm smile. “Anyway, I hope you don’t mind sharing a room. With all of the kids back at the house again, we’re at capacity.”

Being a soldier, sleeping in close quarters with someone was hardly an issue. Her only problem with it was remembering what it felt like to wake up in the same room as him earlier that day back in Vancouver. It did nothing but make her feel worse about her current situation and constantly being reminded of her feelings for him. Then again, it was better than being temporarily homeless.

“No, that’s fine. Don’t even worry about it. I’m just thankful for the hospitality.”

Maisie flung her arms out in frustration, before crossing them indignantly, clearly wanting to say something again. Shepard mentally chastised herself for continuously shoving her foot deeper in her mouth.

“If I have anything to say about it, you’re always welcome here, Jane,” Ada said with a cheerful smile, completely ignoring her youngest child. “I’ll have your room ready in a few hours after I get a chance to wash the sheets and everything.”

“Oh, mom, that’s okay. You don’t have to go out of your way or anything. We can set up the room,” Kaidan cut in.

“No, no, don’t be silly. Your time here is so limited, and Jane’s a guest. You should take her around the property after lunch. There’s a lot to see. The apples aren’t quite ready to bloom yet, but the leaves have all come back and are such nice shades of green. The orchard looks so pretty. You should go enjoy yourselves.”

“Are you sure?” Kaidan asked. It almost looked like it pained him to think that he had inconvenienced his mom. Shepard wouldn’t put it past him. The man never liked to feel like he was a burden.

“Of course I’m sure, now quit asking.”

Kaidan nodded at that reluctantly, accepting that his mother wasn’t going to budge on the issue. 

Everyone continued with their lunch, having a passing conversation. Ada’s warm disposition was already making her feel incredibly welcome, so she figured that was at least one good thing out of this whole situation. As for everyone else, it seemed like she’d be keeping herself plenty busy trying to smooth things over.

[katsukiboom]

Can I get Alpha! Shinsou’s s/o who is about to go into heat saying that she doesn’t want their first time to be while she’s in heat, and that she just isn’t ready yet. So Shinsou has to suffer with his s/o all over him, whining and mewling but he wants to keep his promise to her so he just kinda contemplates what the hell he’s gonna do.

i’m always super nervous about writing omegaverse scenarios bc i think i suck at it aaaaaaaaaa i almost did +18 for this but i decided not to and i think it was a good idea lol i hope you like it my dude! ♥

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It had all started about a week prior, whenyou first started to act a bit more erratic than usual – clinging onto him alot more, weird text messages on the middle of the night telling him to come toyour house, even going as far as insinuating you wanted to do… things to him that he never even thoughtyou’d say.

It was the worst cycle Shinsou had ever seenanyone go through, only two years into the relationship, partly because he hadto hold it in as well and partly because of how torturous it must’ve felt for youall along. It was also the first time he saw it being so long, but he saidnothing as he tried his best to also repress his own feelings. After all,promises were something very dear to him and breaking one wasn’t on his plans.

You had told him from the very first momenthe became your alpha that you weren’t ready to mate yet but you could get aclouded mind with your heat cycle, something that could easily make you dosomething you didn’t want to. You both shared the same train of thought; it hadto be special, when you both were fully prepared and specifically some time farfrom the cycles. Hitoshi knew that he wanted to take care of you and make youfeel loved overall so he conceded that to you, willing to push his own desiresas deep as they could go until you wanted them to resurface.

But it was getting harder by the minute, boththe situation and him, as you lay onyour nest together with you grasping at every fibre of his being in search forsome relief. “C-come on, babe,” you whispered in his ear while giving it a softlick, something that you knew riled him up, “it’ll just be a little while, youdon’t even have to move.” Shivers ran down his spine and every hair on his bodyrose as he held you close, biting his lower lip in an attempt not to followthrough with your ideas but it was difficult, especially with his lower bodynot helping at all.

“I’ll tell you what,” he said after givingyou a short kiss, something you tried to deepen but to no avail – he wasdetermined on keeping your heat in check so you wouldn’t regret anything later.“We’ll resort to spooning for now and, if it still feels as bad in an hour ortwo, we could try something to keep your mind off the bad thoughts.” Hitoshiwas surprised to see you pouting but agreeing to what he offered, thankful thatthere was still a semblance of a clear mind in you for the time being.

But it all went downhill when, whilespooning, you started mewling gently. Alarmed and thinking that there wassomething wrong he quickly turned you around and cupped your cheeks. “It’sj-just that… you’re poking my butt…” you explained, somehow turning even redderas you spoke and flustering him beyond belief.

“I… I’m sorry,” he joked with a littlesmile that you returned, “it wouldn’t be fair if you were the only one having arough time, wouldn’t it?” If only youknew, he told himself, watching as you let out a soft and almost inaudiblewhine.

As soon as you turned around again howeverhe moved his hips a bit back, trying his best not to touch you in any way thatmight incite some unwanted reactions. He took a quick look at his phone andnoticed that, according to the calendar, you’d be like that for at least twomore days, so he did what he knew best – in order to keep his scent strong onyour belongings to prevent your own from seeping out, Hitoshi sneakily startedto rub his arms and legs on the various pillows and blankets there, evencaressing your back slowly so it would also remain on your clothes. He lovedscenting your stuff as it reminded you that you were only his, something thathad been on his mind ever since you two first met.

He lost track of time for a moment and itsurprised him when you turned around for the last time that afternoon andpulled him closer, your bodies almost glued together, your eyelids closed everso slightly and your breath starting to calm down just enough for you to stoppanting. “I’ve always loved your scent,” was the only thing you said beforeburying your face on his neck and planting a soft kiss right below his jaw.

Had it not been for his grand self-controlhe knew he would’ve already taken you long before that day but he loved you so stronglyand didn’t want to upset you in any way, so he only resorted to hold you astight as he could without hurting you while you passed the bad times together. Swallowinga bit, he placed his lips on the top of your head and breathed in your intensescent, driving him crazier by the second, but he wouldn’t be the one to break apromise, not when that promise meant so much to you.

He’d wait for you, no matter how long,until you were ready to give him your everything.

[hermannsthumb]

i have a soft spot for phone sex stuff, so like hermann buys his first vibrator and drinks maybe a little too much to build up the nerve to use it and ends up calling newt bc "his voice calms him" but that may or may not have just been an excuse to get newt on the phone

i love this so much.......idk if its meant to be a prompt but (winking emoji)

also this is pretty e-rated LOL i kinda just jump right in under the cut. 18+! beware! here are some pining pen pals

Masturbation, for Hermann, has always been a largely perfunctory affair. Stress relief. Part of a routine, relegated to furtive strokes with his hand and some discount body wash in the shower once or twice a week. He doesn’t make a big show out of it. He doesn’t use anything but his hand. His fantasies are rarely even that elaborate (he doesn’t allow himself anything that elaborate): the gentle touch of the hand of another man (nameless, faceless, messy-haired and reckless), the recollection of the young man (twenty-one) he’d kissed on a date when he was twenty, and as of recently, Newton. Newton smiling; Newton laughing; Newton allowing Hermann to ruck up his t-shirt and stroke his hand down his soft, soft chest, teasing him gently, touching him in return. 

(Hermann has one printed photograph of Newton, sent along with his friend’s usual weekly correspondence some months ago: round stubbled cheeks, thick glasses, mischievous smile, freckles. Hermann has other photographs of Newton saved to his phone, pulled from various social media sites—Hermann is not obsessed—as well, a single video of the man bookmarked in his browser. Newton is very pleasing to look at.)

In fact, these recent fantasies about Newton are part of the reason why Hermann is ruminating over the whole idea of masturbation in the first place.

They’re becoming a problem.

Lately, all Hermann can think about is Newton. His routine is entirely shot. He doesn’t bring himself off in the shower anymore—or, he still does, but it’s in addition to other occasions on which he brings himself off. He masturbates in the mornings, after he’s had a wet dream about Newton (which are distressingly frequent). He masturbates at night, when he can’t get Newton’s latest correspondence out of his head. And it’s true, the fantasies Newton stars in are fairly mundane, scarcely even that erotic, but they’re becoming less so each time. Hermann stroking a hand down Newton’s chest becomes Hermann toying with Newton’s nipple with his fingers, his teeth, as Newton squirms underneath him. Newton smiling and laughing becomes Newton beckoning him close, begging, breathlessly, for Hermann to touch him, to kiss him, to undress him, to—well. 

It’s the reason for Hermann’s current state of near constant sexual frustration. It’s also the reason for why—after years of relying solely upon his fist—Hermann has finally caved in and bought himself a vibrator.

It’s fairly small. It’s fairly discrete. Smooth. A nice shade of dark purple. Enough settings that Hermann won’t get bored with it. (And it was on sale.) The packaging it came in was discrete, too: a simple black box, with not even the company’s name written on the side. It didn’t mean Hermann wasn’t still mortified when he opened up his mailbox and found it shoved in, neatly, alongside a few bills and a new letter from Newton, and hurry up to his flat as quickly as possible with it tucked under his arm.

The letter lies, unopened, on his bed. The package lies, opened, next to it. Hermann lies next to both, vibrator in hand, stripped down to his undershirt and boxers, wondering how on earth he can possibly mentally boost himself up for this. 

His solution is to break into a bottle of brandy his brother sent him for his last birthday and have a drink. Or two. Enough so that the overwhelming buzz of anxiety making his skin crawl is replaced with a calming static instead. A more gentler buzz. The vibrator’s buzzing, too, though Hermann hasn’t touched himself with it yet. He’s merely holding it a few centimeters from his face, considering it.

In his peripheral vision, Hermann catches sight of Newton’s letter. Newton.

Maybe Hermann could use the vibrator on Newton. Maybe Newton would like to watch Hermann use it on himself. Maybe Newton would use it on Hermann. Maybe he would start by pressing it to Hermann’s chest, and trail it down, down, past his pubic hair, past his prick, nudge Hermann’s legs apart…

He should call Newton. That seems like an excellent idea, frankly. The line is ringing before Hermann even realizes he’s fumbled with his cell phone and dialed Newton’s number (and before he can second-guess himself). The line continues to ring. He hasn’t considered time zones; it’s late for Hermann, but Newton may still be lecturing.

Newton picks up before Hermann can talk himself into hanging up. Hermann switches off the vibrator. “Hey, Hermann!” Newton says. He sounds delighted. Warmth flushes, pleasantly, down Hermann’s neck, to his chest, to pool in the pit of his stomach; his erection begins to stir to life already. Hermann is very easily wound up, and he is very easily unwound. 

“Newton,” Hermann says.

“Hey!” Newton repeats.

“Newton,” Hermann says again.

“Uh, yeah,” Newton says. “It’s me.” He’s quiet for a moment. “You okay, man? You sound...tired.”

“Yes,” Hermann says, quickly. “I needed—er.” He stares at the vibrator. “...Well. Your voice calms me.”

Newton laughs again, a little louder. “It calms you?”

Hermann was tipsy, but he’s begun to sober up, fast, and now he wonders, perhaps, if this wasn’t a very good idea. He flushes for an entirely different reason. “Please forget I called,” he sighs, and makes to hang up, but Newton says “Wait!”

Hermann puts the phone back to his ear. “Are you upset about something?” Newton continues.

“Not exactly,” Hermann says. He thumbs the vibrator. “A bit nervous.”

“You wanna talk about it?”

For a moment, Hermann debates making up a problem. Something to talk through with Newton. Instead—the brandy giving him a bit more courage, the possibility of Newton reciprocating any advances he might make too alluring to turn down—he throws caution into the wind. “I bought a vibrator,” he blurts out.

Newton drops his phone. At least, that’s what it sounds like: there’s a rush of air, a loud clatter, and then Newton swearing, loud, as he presses it back to his ear. “Jesus, Hermann. You bought—”

“A vibrator,” Hermann says.

“I heard you the first time!” Newton squeaks. “Why are you telling me?”

He’s flustered. The notion pleases Hermann, oddly, especially seeing as Newton hasn’t hung up on him in a fit of embarrassment. (Maybe it’s not as one-sided as Hermann has always feared.) Hermann switches the vibrator back on. He decides to play coy. “I’ve never used one before,” he admits. “I’m not quite sure what to do. I thought you might’ve.” 

“Why—” Newton splutters, “you think I’m—I’d know—”

“You seem the type,” Hermann says.

“Oh, boy,” Newton says, still in that same, high little squeak. “Okay. Uh. Well. I do. I have, I mean. But.” There’s a noise, as if he’s readjusting his cell phone. When he speaks again, his voice is significantly more hushed. “I’m kinda in my office right now, dude. At campus. If I wasn’t—”

“I’ll be fast,” Hermann says. “I usually am.”

Newton swears again. “Holy shit. Uh. Okay.” Another small rustling noise. “Okay. Okay. I locked the door. Uh.” He laughs again, far more embarrassed. “I usually start at my, uh, chest. Then work down.”

Hermann presses the vibrator to one of his nipples; the resulting sensation, and the knowledge that he’s doing this at Newton’s command, makes his whole body shudder, a moan slip from his lips. “Ah.” He slides it over to the other and draws out the same response, only this moan is a little louder.

“Jeez,” Newton says, weakly. “Then. Uh. It depends on what kind it is. Sometimes I just kinda—press it to my dick for a bit.”

Hermann slicks his hand up with a small bit of lubricant (also new, ordered alongside the vibrator at the website’s recommendation) and gives himself a few light tugs. Just enough to slick himself up there, too. He pulls his briefs down, neatly, around his thighs. He tucks his phone under his ear. He presses the vibrator to his erection.

“Oh,” he gasps, almost instantly, “oh, Newton—”

“Sorry,” Newton wheezes out, “I gotta—” He swears, again, and then Hermann hears his breathing going harsh, labored, coming out in sharp pants and trailing into little whines. Newton is touching himself, Hermann thinks; Newton is touching himself to Hermann. Hermann switches the vibrator up a setting.

He’s overwhelmed by it all very quickly: the vibrations travelling through his prick, making his whole body tingle, Newton’s whimpering moans in his ear (Hermann, holy shit, oh, wow), the very thought of what Newton must look like on the other end—his cheeks flushed red, his eyes screwed shut tight behind his glasses, his teeth digging into his pretty pink bottom lip to keep from being too loud, to keep from drawing attention to himself, hunched over his cluttered desk with his hand shoved down his jeans. If Hermann were there—if Hermann could touch him (or, better yet, kiss him)...

Newton comes first, with a low, keening whine; Hermann quickly grabs a wad of tissues with the hand not clutching the vibrator and presses it to himself to catch his own release. His phone tumbles to the mattress. He drifts, pleasantly, into the fuzzy, lethargic lull of his afterglow—the best of any orgasm he’s ever had before—and only comes back to himself when Newton’s pants turn to low swearing once more, audible even from where Hermann’s phone rests. Hermann rolls to his side to press his ear to the receiver. “Holy shit,” Newton says, with a little giggle. “Holy shit, Hermann. Ha. Wow.”

“Mm?” Hermann says. He realizes he’s neglected to switch off the vibrator. He reaches out a hand to do so now; his limbs feel like lead.

“That was,” Newton says, “uh, hot.”

“It was,” Hermann agrees. He smiles lazily, though he knows Newton can’t see it. “Thank you.”

They’re both quiet. “You wanna do that again some time?” Newton says.

“I’d like that,” Hermann says.

[sirius-archive]

Chaos Theory Part 10

Pairing: Cedric Diggory x Reader, Harry Potter x Reader, Draco Malfoy x Reader, George Weasley x Reader

Warnings: Drug mention, swearing 

Word Count: 7732 (fuck me)

A/N: Right, guys. 7,732 words is the longest fic I’ve ever written. I can’t even rn...I’m so tired and I’ve been working like so hard on this chapter and Young gods I’ve stocked up on tequila and vodka lol so after the next two chapters are released I can have a fucking Fiesta !! Just an FYI things are gonna start getting darker now. Also, I know Luke is supposed to look different for everyone but I think I’ve deserved using a gif of Noah Centineo bc he’s so cute and i love him sm, and given that I’ve written about Luke’s birthday, I think he should claim the header for now. Anyway, here we go. Happy B’day Lukey :)

This chapter is dedicated to my sister, Mariana ‘Maia/Maui’ Tori - I loved you then, I love you now, and I’ll love you always. RIP belle fiore 🥀 1996 - 2004

Chapter 10:

***

Friday, December 18th

***

The strange parcel arrives late at night with no return address.

You recognise the signature style all too quickly and your stomach curls in on itself, heart shuddering and throat constricting like a straw.

After weeks of silence, the mysterious sender is back again and it looks like they’ve upgraded from creepy photo to mysterious box.

It’s sitting on your bed like a plain, Pandora’s box, inviting you to open it and unleash a tempest of chaos. You approach it slowly, hesitantly, icy blood gushing through your crystallised veins like Antarctic waters travelling down the deltas of a cold-blooded monster. A part of you needs to see this; it could be clues, a lead, something that could aid you in this impossible investigation. But the other part of you is wary, perhaps even a little afraid, because you’re not sure if you’re prepared to face whatever is in this box.

Either way, you find yourself standing in front of it, peering down at the familiar scrawl written across the top, and you slice the string holding it together, gripping the lid and squeezing your eyes shut so you can muster up every single ounce of your Gryffindor courage, tearing the lid off and-

You gasp.

***

Thursday, December 10th

***

Unsurprisingly, news about the Yule Ball spread quicker than a wildfire, tangling the school in a sticky web of rumours and gossip.

It’s all Parvati, Padma and Lavender can talk about after your weekly Howler meeting, much to the dismay of Dean Thomas, who sits on the fringe of their conversation, looking equal parts exasperated and nervous while the girls whisper and giggle beside him.

You can’t exactly blame them. The Yule Ball at Hogwarts is combining two of the most whimsical events and squeezing them into one night. Celebrating Christmas while dressing up and dancing with your date? Of course, all the girls would be excited; it’s an excuse to dress up and spend the night with people you care about.

The boys, however, do not share the girl’s enthusiasm for the Ball. Flustered and nervous, a lot of the boys at Hogwarts have had difficulty approaching the subject of dates, since according to tradition, it’s their responsibility to find one.

Harry had been shocked when McGonagall told him that he would have to find a dancing partner after Transfiguration earlier today. As a Champion, he had no choice in the matter, which meant that if he didn’t find a partner soon, he’d risk embarrassing himself in front of the entire school.

Ron, too, was starting to grow anxious about who he would ask to the ball, and Hermione had become impatient with him. Honestly, you couldn’t blame her; she was the most obvious choice to ask, yet Ron continued to allow his obliviousness blind him from what’s right in front of him. Hermione had been tempted to slap both Ron and Harry around the head and point out that they didn’t have to look very far, but you had stopped her before she could. While it would be enjoyable to go with Harry, you were hoping to be asked by someone else...

A touch of worry pricks your chest. What if you don’t get asked by anyone? That was a possibility you hadn’t really considered, given that you had been clinging hopefully to the prospect of being asked by Cedric.

Though to be fair, both you and Cedric have been so caught up in school work and...extracurricular activities, you hadn’t even had an opportunity to talk to one another, let alone arrange a date. Still, you supposed that there was still just over a week until the Ball...plenty of time to arrange a date...

“-hoping for a new camera for Christmas, mine is looking a little shabby, though Noah says that’s okay as long as it functions properly,” Colin Creevey says, excitedly, rambling at a million miles per hour, “He doesn’t really talk that much, does he? But he takes really good photos. I wonder if he could take a photo of me and Dennis with Harry? That would be awesome! Though I do feel a bit sorry for him, I heard that his sister-”

Your mind drifts again, eyes travelling past Colin and spotting Dean in the distance. He waves you over desperately, a pleasing expression written across his face.

“-isn’t that sad? She was always really nice to me so when Professor Dumbledore announced that she had died last year, I was really quite shocked. Nice of Professor Dumbledore to pay his respects to her, eh? He’s such a great Headmaster, he’s made Dennis and I feel at ease-”

“-That reminds me!” You interrupt, hurriedly, “I have to quickly speak to Dean about...something that Professor Dumbledore wanted so I’ll just-”

“Oh, yeah?” Colin asks, cheeks dimpled and eyes wide, “That’s so cool! Dean is such a great artist, he’s going to go far. Hey, I wonder if Harry has seen any of his work. Maybe I should ask Dean to sketch a picture of me and Harry together? Do you think Harry would like that for Christmas? You’d know best, you and Harry are basically-”

“-Yeah, that’s great,” you interrupt, hastily, already walking away from Colin, “See you Colin!”

Colin waves cheerily at you and plods away, approaching Juniper and Daisy and launching into a rambling lecture. You bite your lip, guilt plucking your chest. He really is a sweet boy, little Colin Creevey, who has idolised Harry since Colin arrived at Hogwarts. Leaving him feels mean, but you have a feeling that he could chat to you about everything and nothing for hours on end and still not tire out.

Ignoring your guilt and Colin’s excited voice that carries across the room, you approach Dean, who looks grateful at your arrival.

“Excited for the ball?” You tease, arching a coy eyebrow and Dean sighs.

“I can’t concentrate with the girls gossiping beside me,” Dean groans, rubbing soothing circles into his temples.

You shrug, sliding onto his desk and toying subconsciously with a loose fabric on your skirt, “You got to admit though, it is pretty exciting. Rumour has it that Celestine Warbeck is going to perform.”

Dean rolls his eyes, “Pretty sure that’s still just a rumour.”

You give an exaggerated sigh, as though severely disappointed by this news, “Yeah. But it’d be nice though, right?”

Dean grins, “Oh boy, if that were true, I would be way more excited for this ball thingy.”

“I think everyone would be.”

“I don’t think it’s possible for the girls to be more excited than they already are.”

“Oh trust me, you’d be surprised.”

Dean snorts, studying you for a moment, his dark eyes glittering amicably, “I don’t suppose anyone’s asked you yet, have they?”

This time, it’s your turn to snort, “Oh, please Dean. I’ve been getting offers left, right and centre. I practically had to sneak my way here to avoid being swarmed by them all...” you pause for comedic effect, “...not.”

Dean chuckles, rolling his quill between his fingers, “Well, if you don’t get asked soon - which, I mean, you totally will get asked I’m not saying you’re not - I mean-you're pretty so I’m sure you’ll get offers - not that I think you’re pretty because - I mean - we’re just good friends - but I don’t think you’re ugly - you’re definitely not ugly I can tell you that right now - I mean -”

You raise your brows expectantly at him, smirking as you watch Dean sputter and stumble over his words. After another few seconds of spluttering, you finally decide to intervene, amused by his awkwardness.

“Dean Thomas, are you trying to ask me to the Ball?”

Dean averts his gaze, staring at his quill. The conversation beside you has gone quiet, the three girls pausing mid-sentence to eavesdrop on your conversation. Dean exhales a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose.

“Yes,” he mumbles, “I’m asking you to the ball. But as friends!” He adds, briskly, shooting a look at the girls giggling beside him, “And as a...um...Plan B...”

You smile warmly at him, his offer and awkwardness endearing. Placing a hand on his shoulder, you give him a subtle wink and beam at him.

“I would be honoured to have you as my Plan B.”

A burst of girlish giggles bubble into the air around you, cutting off Dean’s relieved chortles. Parvati and Lavender are both red-faced, hands clamped across their lips in a failed attempt to muffle their giggles. Padma, however, is grinning teasingly, glancing between you and Dean.

“Aw,” she gushes, reaching out to ruffle both yours and Deans hair, “You guys would be so cute together.”

“As friends,” you add, hastily, “Dean is my good ol’ pal and the best back up plan I’ve ever had.”

Dean clutches his chest through his shirt, “That’s the nicest thing anyone’s ever said to me.”

You frown at him, though you can’t stop the grin stretching across your lips, “I think you need to find yourself some new friends, then.”

Dean shrugs, “I suppose I do.”

As Padma and Dean begin to chat amongst themselves, you allow your gaze to drift away from their conversation, spotting Noah in the corner of the room. He’s bent over a desk, staring intensely at some photos, hands pressed flat against the desk in front of him. His aviator's jacket is too big for him; it swamps around his tall and lithe form almost drowning him in leather and wool.

You make your way towards him and lean against the desk, peering down at the photos in front of him.

They’re scenic landscapes snapped from various spots around Hogwarts, though they look incredibly different, enhanced even, as though you’re looking at places you take for granted through a different lens. There’s a photo of the Whomping Willow, the Courtyard, Hagrid’s hut and an excitable Fang. Noahs even made Blast-Ended Skrewts look more interesting than ugly killing machines.

“You’re a really good photographer, you know,” you murmur, smiling down at Noah’s photos.

“These are nothing,” Noah mutters, apathetically, “The camera that Maia gave me could make these photos look like they were taken by six-year-olds mucking around with a cheap Kodak.”

You bite your lip, ignoring the obvious Muggle reference (what in Merlin’s name is a Kodak anyway?) and consider Noah carefully, “I’m sorry about your camera.”

Noah shrugs, “It’s not the camera that I’m worried about...”

You think about resting a comforting hand on his, but decide against it.

“I’m sorry about Maia, too.”

Noah swallows thickly and turns away. He’s silent for a long time, and you’re afraid you may have overstepped your boundaries when Noah rasps a reply.

“What is it that they say? Time will heal the scars,” he whispers, as though trying to convince himself that it’s true.

You chew the inside of your cheek, hesitating for a moment, before carefully stringing your next words together.

“What was Maia like?” You ask, warily, “I only met her twice and she seemed really nice...”

A ghost of a smile plays across Noah’s lips, “She was...funny, she’d make me laugh even when I didn’t want to. And she could be feisty, Christ, she was feisty, and so bloody bossy. I guess that’s why she was the Hufflepuff and I was the Slytherin because she was happy and free-spirited and she...” Noah bites his lip, as though stifling a laugh, “...she used to cry whenever she listened to Cat Stevens. And she had this thing about collars - they always had to be folded back otherwise they’d annoy her. And photos, she loved photos but she couldn’t take one to save her life. They’d always come out blurry or dark or off centre and she’d always laugh...”

Noah pauses in thought, as though sinking into sepia-stained memories. He allows himself a tiny smile, “Maia always said that I’d be the photographer in the family. That was what she wanted for me. She was going to be a teacher and I was going to be a famous photographer.”

Noah blinks and averts his gaze, turning away from you.

“You were the first person who said that to me, you know,” he whispers, voice hoarse, “That night when Dumbledore...” he trails off, blinking hard. He turns back to you, black eyes shimmering with something you don’t quite recognise, and he’s close enough for you notice for the first time that he has a scar knitted into his left eyebrow, “Everyone else thinks I’m a weirdo or that I ki-“

Noah suddenly cuts himself off, as though in realisation. His expression flickers, anger suddenly shadowing his face, and he turns to glare angrily at you.

“Don’t- Don’t do that!” he snaps, pointing a shaky finger at you, and you frown at him, confused.

“What do you mean?” You ask.

“Make me tell you things about...” he blinks, black eyes glinting dangerously, “...about Maia and me and-and make it seem like you care when you don’t! You’re-you’re just like everyone else, like Delores and-and Malfoy and her stupid boyfriend and everyone who didn’t give a shit about Maia when she was alive!”

You try to reach out and pat him but before you can even touch him, Noah flinches, as though he’s expecting you to hit him. Red stains his cheeks in shame as he backs away from you, a distant touch of fear creeping into his eyes. He retreats hurriedly, nearly stumbling out of the door, and you try to follow him when someone catches your wrist.

You glance behind you, finding Troy’s wrist gently pulling you back. He looks both worried and sympathetic as he releases your wrist, fiddling with the paintbrush behind his ear.

“He needs space,” Troy explains, “Space and time. Noah strikes me as the kind of person who likes to keep things bottled up.”

You nod in understanding, chewing your bottom lip thoughtfully, “Do you know who Delores is? Noah mentioned her just now...”

Troy hesitates, as though unsure whether it's his place to say. He concedes after a moment of silent deliberation, “Delores is Noah’s mother. Maia told me about her. They have a...troubled relationship-”

“His mother is a junkie who cares more about her current boyfriend and getting high than she does about her own kids,” Daisy drawls, bluntly, suddenly appearing at your side, “Maia used to ask me to keep an eye on him, make sure the other kids don’t bully him because he gets enough of that from home.”

“Oh...” you murmur, slowly.

“Yeah,” Troy says, staring at his feet.

An uncomfortable silence passes between the three of you as you stand in a circle, processing what had just happened. Daisy leaves as abruptly as she came, stalking across the room to Juniper’s side. Troy has his hands in his pockets, rubbing his shoes together before he smiles and nods at something behind you.

“I think you have a little visitor,” Troy beams. You spin around and grin, crouching down to welcome Nightshade into your arms.

“What are you doing here, B?” You coo, kissing Nightshade on her head. She rubs herself against your leg, tail curling in the air and she purrs and meows at you.

You scratch her ear, fingers grazing against her collar before you spot something folded inside her bell. Frowning, you carefully pull away a small piece of paper and you unfold it, nervously, hoping with all your might it isn’t related to the photo pinned to your investigation board and you stare down at it, taking in the familiar writing and you-

You smile, bite your lip, watching as dozens of tiny, red hearts shudder to life and flutter off the page like butterflies in the spring. You watch as they spell out words in mid air, tracing around invisible letters until they form a coherent sentence that reads, in unmistakable cursive writing;

Will you go to the Ball with me?

You laugh, recognising the style of it all, knowing the only person who is capable at something so sweet and romantic is-

“Will you go to the Ball with me?”

Cedric Diggory.

The heart butterflies scatter, fluttering away as though being carried away in a summer breeze. Cedric standing at the end of the hallway, grinning broadly at you. He strides toward you in smooth movements, one arm bent behind his back, beaming brightly, his blue eyes never straying from yours. A tiny laugh of disbelief slips from your lips as you smile, gazing lovingly at him until he stops right in front of you.

Cedric stretches out the arm bent behind his back, brandishing a cupcake with a giant, red love heart planted on top, holding it to his face as he awaits your answer.

“Oh my god,” you breathe, swept away by the dramatics, “Are-are you bribing me with food?”

Cedric chuckles lightly, “I knew that this would be the driving force that would compel you to come with me.”

“You must really want me as your date,” you murmur, a simpering smile curling graciously across your lips.

“More than anything,” Cedric whispers, gazing at you longingly. His blue eyes sparkle like sunlight dancing off the ocean. He’s absolutely mesmerising...

“Okay,” you giggle, suddenly giddy, “I’ll come with you to the Ball.”

Cedric sweeps you into his arms and twirls you around in a hug. You shriek a laugh as he lifts you off your feet, hands buried in his hair as he spins you before placing you gently on your feet. He grins goofily, eyes narrowing on your lips, hungry for a kiss you are all too willing to give him, and you reach up, wrapping your arms around his neck, guiding his lips onto yours until-

“Ahem.”

Troy clears his throat.

Cedric reluctantly pulls away from you as you crane your neck, suddenly remembering that Troy is there.

“I’ll...give you guys some privacy,” Troy mumbles, cheeks pink. He steps back into the Newsroom and closes the door and you turn back to Cedric.

“So...” you start, slowly, “Are we going to...?” You nod at the cupcake still in Cedric's hand. Cedric laughs.

“Oh,” He says, “Right.”

Nightshade meows, gazing up at Cedric with large, green eyes, staring at the cupcake longingly.

“I guess you deserve a treat or two,” Cedric says, crouching down to feed a piece of cupcake. She eats from his hand, carefully licking the tiny crumbs from his palm as Cedric strokes her head.

You beam at Cedric as you watch him affectionately scratch Nightshade, heart swelling like a balloon, suddenly understanding the excitement surrounding the Yule Ball and making a mental note to tell Dean that you won’t need a Plan B anymore...

***

Thursday December 17th 

***

You wake up early on the morning of Luke’s birthday, grinning from ear-to-ear.

As per the usual birthday tradition, you had picked out the most ugliest Christmas sweater you could find - complete with itchy wool and an unflattering turtleneck collar - and had wrapped it in embarrassingly bright wrapping paper. You can just imagine Luke’s face when he unwraps it; contorting in both disgust and amusement but holding it to his chest.

The rules were that he had to wear the sweater all day for the entire day, no excuses. Last year, McGonagall had been so unimpressed, she had nearly begged Luke to burn the sweater to a crisp and had threatened to send him to detention for the day if he didn’t.

But that wasn’t the only birthday tradition the Arden siblings had amongst themselves.

They also had to bake the worst tasting birthday cake with whatever they could find and dare each other to eat it. Once, you had baked a cake during the holidays using eggs, tomato sauce, flour, mushrooms, oats, sugar, spearmint and hot sauce and saved it for Luke’s birthday. When you had dared Luke to eat a slice, Luke, never one to turn down a challenge, had devoured the entire thing. He had then spent the next hour bent over a toilet bowl but, really, that was his own doing. You had only dared him to eat one slice, not the whole damn thing.

This year was no different; you have to keep to the Arden tradition and bake a disgusting cake. The problem is, you don’t know where the kitchens are. Last year, you had made it ahead of time and had preserved it using a cooking charm (perhaps that was why Luke reacted so...violently to it) but this year, you had been more preoccupied and less organised.

You make your way down to the Common Room, wondering how you’re going to sneak into the boy's dormitory and steal the Marauders Map when you suddenly run into a tall and firm figure.

“Woah,” you gasp under your breath, staggering backwards. A strong arm catches you by your arm before you can fall flat on your ass.

“Sorry,” George Weasley snickers, “I didn’t see you there; you’re kind of tiny, (Y/N). You’re definitely a tripping hazard.”

You scowl at him and rearrange your clothes, ironing your skirt with the palms of your hands.

“Anyone tell you you’re a class A asshole?”

“On many occasions, actually,” George grins, then shrugs, “Sticks and stones.”

“Whatever works for you,” you snip, a smirk tugging on the corners of your lips, “Anyway, what are you doing here so early?”

“We could ask you the same thing,” says Fred, sauntering toward you.

“I’m baking a cake for Luke,” you explain, grinning, “It’s his birthday and we usually bake each other really disgusting cakes and get each other terrible gifts. It’s kind of an Arden thing.”

Fred and George exchange a mischievous glance.

“Sounds like you need to head to the kitchens,” Fred smirks down at you,

“You guys know where it is?” You ask, hopefully, and Fred nods.

“Ready for a private tour?” George asks, grinning devilishly, his eyes shimmering and a thrill courses through you.

You beam at him.

***

The kitchens look like they’ve just crawled out of Hermione’s worst nightmares.

House-elves are everywhere; bustling around the large kitchens, looking harried but content as they buzz around the room. They work around you, occasionally rushing up to you to offer you various sweets and treats, practically imploring you with round orbs to enjoy their homemade delicacies.

You’ve learned that it’s better just to accept the cakes and cookies instead of politely declining, and you enjoy the ones you’ve gathered with Fred and George as you sit in front of a large oven, watching Luke’s cake swell inside of the cake tin.

“I’m surprised it’s actually baking,” George observes, nodding at the oven, “Are we sure that’s even a cake in there?”

“If it has flour, egg, milk and sugar, then it’s a cake,” you state, biting into a cookie and moaning in delight, “These cookies are to die for.”

“Right?” Fred marvels in agreement, “I mean, they’re not as good as Mums but they’re still pretty darn good.”

Your eyes flutter closed and a smile stretches across your lips as you chew languidly on another cookie, savouring the sweet flavour as it oozes onto your tongue. You hum in delight again as you begin licking chocolate off the tips of your fingers.

You open your eyes and catch George watching you with a strange expression on his face. He boldly maintains eye contact, something unfamiliar flashing in his pupils.

Fred glances between the two of you, intrigued, “I’m going to go take some of these to Lee,” he announces, standing and stretching.

You break away from George and watch him as he leaves.

“That was odd,” You note, frowning as the portrait door closes shut.

“Fred is a bit of an oddity anyway,” George shrugs, sliding closer to you, “How’s that cake going?”

You peer through the glass, studying the cake, “Honestly? I don’t know, though I want it to burn so I guess another twenty minutes or so.”

You turn back to George, whose scoffing down an incredible amount of cookies.

“So, you excited for the Ball?” He asks through a mouthful of cookies.

You grin uncontrollably, “Yeah, I am.”

“Found anyone to go with?”

“Yeah,” You slide your bottom lip between your teeth, “I’m going with Cedric.”

George stops cramming cookies into his mouth and swallows, forcing a strained smile onto his lips.

“Oh. That’s...good.”

You shrug meekly, trying not to appear as giddy as you feel, “Yeah. Are you going with anyone?”

“Uh-Harper Shacklebolt.”

You nearly choke on your laughter, “What?! You managed to convince Harper Shacklebolt to leave the Newsroom?”

George flashes a devilish grin, “Well, it wasn’t that hard. I just had to turn up the old Weasley twin charm and she was practically falling for me.”

You roll your eyes, chortling at George’s confidence, “Huh, interesting. Well, you might have some competition. Did you know Harper has a pen pal?”

“Is that so?” George arches an eyebrow, intrigued, “And who would that be?”

“Someone with the initials ‘O.W.’, which could only be-”

“Oliver Wood,” George’s lips break into a smirk, chortles slipping from his lips, “I can’t see that lasting too long. They’re both stubborn and passionate about other things. Wasn’t Harper and Luke a thing for a while?”

You bark a laugh, “Ha. Luke and Harper? Harper is so out of Luke’s league, he’d probably have to pinch his dick to make sure he isn’t dreaming.”

George laughs at that, and the sound travels through you, glowing in your chest and probing your own laughter to spill from your lips.

“Must have just been some silly rumours,” George shrugs, “By the way, I think his cake is burning.”

You turn back to the oven as smoke begins to bleed through the cracks in the oven, filling the air with a horrid, acrid smell.

“Yup, that would be about right,” You chortle, grinning, “He’s going to love it.”

***

Luke is on his way to the library when you spot him.

He’s pacing down the hallway, moving quickly, and you nearly have to break into a sprint just to catch up with him. It’s a little uncharacteristic, given that he usually saunters lazily but in a businesslike manner. Casual, but cool and composed. 

Today, he’s in a rush, taking long, deliberate strides and not giving you a chance to catch your breath as you struggle to catch up to him.

He rounds the corner, and you’re about to call out to him when someone else beats you to it, cutting you off with a thick, smokey accent.

“I vas beginning to zink you vere going to flake on me, Lukas!”

Kazimir Volkov strolls up to him, smirk like a sharp dash across his lips. He looks impressive and menacing, but Luke isn’t afraid.

Kaz stops right in front of Luke, eyes flashing with something both dangerous and alluring, as though he’s trying to assert his dominance but is also trying to seduce Luke into relaxation.

Luke stops, glancing around furtively. When he’s certain that no one is looking, Luke’s composure relaxes, steel melting off his shoulders like mercury. He greets Kaz like an old friend, nodding at him and flashing a charming smile. Curious, you press yourself against the wall, peeking out from behind it.

Luke leans forward, speaking in an undertone.

“I thought we agreed to talk in Russian?”

Kaz’s smirk broadens, “Why, you don’t vant anyone knowing zat Hogvart’s Golden Boy is up to no good?”

“Well, yeah,” Luke snips, a little impatiently, “I mean, it’s more about my sister than anything. If she knew…”

“She’d understand,” Kaz murmurs, then shrugs, “But if zat’s what you vant...”

Luke and Kaz begin covering in Russian, speaking rapidly. You furrow your brows, straining to listen to their conversation, but you never learnt Russian and they’re speaking too fast for you to pick up on any familiar sounding words.

Two words pop out from their conversation; you only recognise them because they are repeated by both Kaz and Luke; krov' Niks

Krov Niks…? What the heck is that supposed to mean?

Sighing, you’re just about to leave when Kaz suddenly retrieves something from the inside of his Durmstrang robes. You squint, leaning forward, spotting a small vial with black, glittering liquid inside. It resembles melted obsidian; sunlight bounces off small flecks of silver and gold.

Luke takes the vial and pockets it, nodding at Kaz in gratitude.

You flatten your back against the wall, thinking fast. What kind of potion could Luke possibly want that he couldn’t brew himself? What is he up to? And why does he have to keep it a secret when you’ve never let any secrets stand between the two of you–?

“Lulu!”

You jump, startled by Luke’s surprised voice, a fleeting look of panic flitting across his face. Your mouth flaps open, searching desperately for a good excuse, momentarily forgetting about the gifts in your hand until Luke’s gaze drops to them.

“Oh!” You bleat, nervously, “Oh I was…looking for you because I – uh – it’s your birthday and I wanted to give you your birthday presents…”

“Oh,” Luke says, biting his lip nervously, “Thanks.”

You hand him his sweater and cake and iron your clammy hands on your skirt, “Happy Birthday.”

Luke balances his presents on one hand and ruffles your hair with the other, “Thanks, (Y/N). I can’t wait to try what delicious, home-baked cake you conjured up for me this year.”

“Fred and George helped me whip it up,” you smirk, teasingly.

“Ah,” Luke nods, mirroring your smirk, “Well, then, it’ll be a masterpiece.”

Luke lassos you into a one-armed hug, pulling you to his chest, and for a moment, you forget about that strange vial in Luke’s pocket.

***

Friday, December 18th  

***

The last day of term ends with a gruelling test on Antidotes in Potions.

Fortunately, you had studied hard for this test; it was hard to do anything other than study when your best friend is Hermione Granger. But your hard work paid off in the end, earning you full marks from a somewhat sour Snape.

“I see you’ve proven to be worth more than just a pretty face,” Snape has grumbled, peering down into your cauldron after class, “All that time spent with Granger must have rubbed off on you.”

You had screwed your jaw shut in an effort to stop yourself from snapping back at Snape, knowing that your marks and House Points were worth more than any retort you could have possibly sassed back.

“Actually, Professor,” you grit, through a clenched jaw, “I was wondering if you could tell me about a Potion that…looks black with silver and gold speckles in it?”

Professor Snape frowns, evidently in thought. After a moment of silence, Snape speaks in his usual, oily tone, “Nyx’s blood. It’s a difficult potion to brew, used as both a narcotic and a healing potion. It also happens to be illegal in the United Kingdom.” Snape arches a thin, black eyebrow in suspicion, “Why would you want to know about Nyx’s blood?”

“Um…” you begin, cursing yourself for not stringing a proper excuse together, “Um, I–”

“Severus!” Hisses a sharp, accented voice from behind you. Snape’s black eyes travel past you and you follow his line of sight, finding Karkaroff at the end of it. Karkaroff glances between you and Snape.

“You may leave, Arden,” Snape drawls, sourly, dismissing you with a scowl. You nod, slinging your book bag over your shoulder and rushing out of the dungeons, exhaling a sigh of relief.

As they promised, Ron, Harry and Hermione are waiting outside for you.

“So, what did Snape want?” Ron pries, softly patting the top of your head. 

“Oh, nothing,” you sigh, “He just wanted to have a word with me about my Potion.”

“How did you think you went with that?” Ron asks, considering you curiously. You shrug.

“Well, I followed everything as per the instructions but it’s Snape so I’m not sure.”

You glance at Harry, who has remained uncharacteristically quiet for most of the day.

“How did you think you went, Harry?” You ask, loud enough to snap him out of his thoughts.

“I botched it,” Harry confesses, though he doesn’t seem too worried about it at all, “I don’t really care, though.”

“Well you should,” Hermione chides, loftily, “Potions is a core subject in our curriculum. If we don’t pass Potions, we lose a huge percentage of our end of year scores.”

“Which means Snape will look bad enough for Dumbledore to finally fire the git,” Ron mutters in your ear, grinning. You snort a laugh and nudge him in the ribs, earning a yelp of surprise.

“You’re trouble, Ronald Weasley,” you murmur back, snickering.

“Arden!”

You pause, Ron, Harry and Hermione stilling, too. A familiar prickle of agitation threads itself beneath your skin as you recognise the familiar voice and wheel around to face him.

“What do you want, Malfoy?” you practically spit, watching as Draco, Crabbe and Goyle saunter towards you. He’s sneering, but there is an indisputable touch of worry in his eyes.

“You,” Draco snips, “Alone without your little guard dogs to defend you.”

His cold, pale eyes dart between Ron and Harry. Ron steps forward.

“She’s not going anywhere with you,” Ron snarls, darkly, stretching out a protective arm as if to shield you.

“Funny, I didn’t realise you were her keeper,” Draco snaps, venomously, “Are you really that poor you have to start working for your friends, Weasel?”

Crabbe and Goyle snigger gleefully. You roll your eyes and tap Ron’s arm gently.

“I’ll be fine,” you coo, reassuring both Ron and Harry. They nod in unison.

“I’ll take your book bag,” Hermione offers, and you hand her your bag gratefully, “We’ll see you at dinner.”

You nod and watch them leave, forcing a soft smile onto your lips when Harry glances back at you over his shoulder. You turn back to Malfoy moments later, glowering at him.

“Okay, you’ve got me,” you snip, harshly, “Now, tell me what it is that you want?”

Draco glances behind him at Crabbe and Goyle and flaps a dismissive hand at them, silently shooing them off. They stump away, pushing past other students and knocking frightened First Years aside.

When he’s sure it’s just the two of you, Draco, takes a few steps toward you, bowing his head so he can catch your eyes, “I wanted to ask you something.”

“If it has something to do with Noah Underwood, I don’t want to hear it,” you snap, sternly, “The guy is going through enough as it is, he doesn’t need you to keep snooping around like he’s some sort of criminal-”

“-Will you go to the Ball with me?”

Your lashes flutter rapidly as you blink at Draco once, twice, again. His cheeks are beginning to flush an interesting shade of pink.

“What?”

Draco rolls his eyes, “Don’t make me ask you again, Arden, you heard me.”

You stare at him quizzically, bemused by his request. Why would Draco want to ask you to the Ball? Was this a prank? A joke? A trick question or a weird way to humiliate you? You frown at him, thinking hard, raking your eyes across every inch of his face and scrutinising him carefully in the low, flickering lights of the dungeons, mind sprinting through a million theories at once until-

Laughter bubbles up your throat on impulse and spills from your lips, echoing through the Dungeons.

Draco blinks, taken aback. 

“Very funny, Malfoy,” you chortle, sighing, and Draco glowers at you.

“This isn’t a joke, Arden!” Draco snaps, angrily.

Your laughter dies on the tip of your tongue when you realise he’s serious and you scoff in cold indignation.

“Why would I want to go to the Ball with you, Draco?” You spit, coldly, venom dripping from your words, “You seem to relish in bullying me and my friends, particularly Harry. So give me one good reason why I should even consider coming with you when all you are is a jealous, spoilt and arrogant bully with a chip on his shoulder.”

Draco’s eyes glimmer like light bouncing off the tip of a blade. He opens his mouth then closes it, working around words he doesn’t want to say, doesn’t want to give a voice to, before he works his jaw and flares his nostrils and twists his lips into a frown.

“Never mind,” he snarls, bitterly, “I shouldn’t have bothered asking someone who parades around Potter like some loyal, little bitch.”

Before you can give him an angry retort, Draco storms away, fists clenched at his sides as though he wants to smash something.

Who are you kidding? You want to smash something.

Perplexed and incensed, you march out of the Dungeons and make your way toward the Great Hall for dinner, wondering what the fuck just happened.

***

After dinner with Hermione, the pair of you wander back to the common room, in which you explain everything that had happened with Malfoy earlier. Hermione had struggled to contain her gleeful giggles as she listened, which was as infuriating as it was embarrassing.

“Malfoy fancies you, (Y/N),” she manages through a bout of giggles, “That’s why he asked you. He’s always had a soft spot for you.”

“Oh don’t be so silly!” You dismiss her with a slap to her shoulder, “Malfoy was probably just mucking around.”

“But you said-”

“I know what I said,” you snip, warmth creeping up your neck and spilling across your cheeks, “But Draco Malfoy does not fancy me!”

Hermione bites down on a grin, swallowing the rest of her giggles and slinging an arm across your shoulders, “Whatever you say, (Y/N).”

You and Hermione reach the portrait of the Fat Lady and find her laughing boisterously with her friend, Violet. They both look rather tipsy in their tinsel crowns, faces flushed and words slurred.

“Fairy Lights,” you utter, speaking loudly so that she can hear you over Violet’s loud cackles.

“Aren’t they jus - hic - Magical,” the Fat Lady sighs, and you and Hermione exchanged an amused look as she swings open, admitting you into the common room.

You and Hermione climb through the portrait hole, entering the dim common room and spotting Harry, Ron and Ginny sitting by the fire.

“There they are!” Hermione says, pointing at the two snickering boys and an irritated-looking Ginny.

“Why weren’t you two at Dinner?” You ask, curiously dropping into a seat beside Harry. The two boys don’t seem to hear you, your voice drowned out by their laughter.

“Because - oh shut it, you two - because they both just got rejected by girls they asked to the Ball!” Ginny snaps, shooting a particularly nasty look to Ron and Harry.

You snort a laugh, slapping a hand across your mouth to smother your giggles as Ron glares at Ginny.

“Thanks a bunch, Ginny,” Ron grumbles, sourly, cheeks red beneath his freckles.

“All the good-looking ones taken, Ron?” Hermione snips, smirking bitterly, a touch of sardonic insolence in her tone, “Eloise Midgen starting to look a great deal prettier now isn’t she? Well, I’m sure you’ll find someone somewhere who’ll have you, it serves you right for being so snotty.”

Usually, Ron would snap back with something snappy. But Hermione’s snide remark seems to slide off Ron, who’s staring at the two of you as though a certain realisation had just dawned on him.

“Hermione, (Y/N), you’re both girls-”

“-Oh well spotted,” Hermione barks, coldly.

“You guys can come with us! Hermione can come with me and (Y/N) can go with-“

“I can’t,” you and Hermione both snap at the same time. You both exchange a glance.

“Why not?” Ron says, impatiently, “Look, Harry and I are going to look really stupid if we don’t find partners - especially Harry-“

“I - we - can’t come with you,” Hermione interrupts, blushing furiously, “Because we - I - am already going with someone!”

“No you’re not!” Ron says, scandalously, “You only said that to get rid of Neville!”

“How dare you, Ron?!” Hermione seethes, her eyes glinting dangerously, “How dare you think that, just because it takes you three years to notice, doesn’t mean no one else has spotted I’m a girl!”

Ron gaped at her in disbelief, before his shock melted into a grin.

“Ok, Fine, you’re a girl we get it. Now will you come with us?”

Hermione springs to her feet, fists shaking at her sides, “I told you already that I’m going with someone else, and if that’s so hard to believe I suggest that you get over yourself!”

Hermione storms away angrily, stomping up the stairs to the girls' dormitory.

“Now look what you’ve done!” You snap, glowering at Ron, “She wasn’t lying!”

Ron shakes his head, “Who is she going with then?”

You fold your arms across your chest, glaring at Ron angrily, “She obviously doesn’t want you to know, so I’m not going to tell you.”

Ron rolls his eyes and sighs, “This is getting stupid, Ginny can go with Harry and (Y/N) can come with me-”

“-No, Ron, weren’t you listening?” You snip, icily, “I’m already going with someone.”

You leap to your feet and march toward the winding staircase, intent on pursuing Hermione.

“Wait!” Harry calls out and you pause, wheeling around to face him, “Who-who are you going with?”

You hesitate, biting down on your bottom lip hard before unfurling it, “Cedric. I’m going with Cedric Diggory.”

Not waiting to see their reaction at this news, you spin around and scale the winding staircase, an uncomfortable warmth soaking your cheeks. Why did Ron have to be such a giant prat? He could be so incredibly mean to Hermione at times and completely oblivious to everything around him.

You come to a stop outside of your dorm and knock gently, cracking your knuckles against the wood of the doors.

“Hermione? Can I come in?” You ask, softly, carefully.

“You’d better,” says Hermione’s voice from behind the door, all traces of her anger having already left her voice, “There’s-there’s something here for you...”

Frowning, you pull open the door, spotting Hermione standing in front of your bed.

“Why? What is it-?”

You pause, your words forming an uncomfortable lump in the middle of your throat.

A strange box is sitting on your bed, practically screaming trouble.

“Someone must have brought it up here,” Hermione deduces, studying the box carefully, “It would have taken at least three owls to send it...”

You recognise the signature style all too quickly and your stomach curls in on itself, heart shuddering and throat constricting like a straw.

After weeks of silence, the mysterious sender is back again and it looks like they’ve upgraded from creepy photo to mysterious box.

It’s sitting on your bed like a plain, Pandora’s box, inviting you to open it and unleash a tempest of chaos. You approach it slowly, hesitantly, icy blood gushing through your crystallised veins like Antarctic waters travelling down the deltas of a cold-blooded monster. A part of you needs to see this; it could be clues, a lead, something that could aid you in this impossible investigation. But the other part of you is wary, perhaps even a little afraid, because you’re not sure if you’re prepared to face whatever is in this box.

Either way, you find yourself standing in front of it, peering down at the familiar scrawl written across the top, and you slice the string holding it together, gripping the lid and squeezing your eyes shut so you can muster up every single ounce of your Gryffindor courage, tearing the lid off and-

You gasp.

Oh.

“What is it?” Hermione asks, mincing hurriedly to your side.

“Oh,” she gasps, “Let’s-Let’s take it out.”

You do, pulling it from the box and holding it out in front of you. Hermione gasps again, raising a hand to cover her mouth.

“It’s beautiful,” she sighs, lips breaking into a smile.

You couldn’t agree more.

The dress is dripping with soft flowers and thin, curling vines, like gold veins running beneath ivory skin. The tulle cascades in soft waves to the floor, flowing through your arms like water. It’s elegant, dainty, feminine and incredibly expensive.

Hurrying to the full-length mirror, you hold the dress to your body, admiring how the style compliments your complexion. White diamonds wink at you from the centre of the dozens of flowers planted on the fabric.

“There’s a note, too!” Hermione exclaims, handing you a folded piece of parchment. You carefully take the letter from her outstretched hand, unfolding it with a smile.

My Dearest Belle Fiore,

Your mother once said that you were the ‘fiore of her life’, and she was right. You were the fiore of her life, and I have watched you blossom into the beautiful rose you are today. I couldn’t be more proud of the young woman you have become, and I will always be proud of you until my dying breath.

I know your mother would want you to wear this to your first ball; it was her wedding dress. But now, it’s yours, and I’ll know you’ll treasure it as much as the beloved bracelet she bestowed to you.

I wish I could see you in it but, unfortunately, the Prophet demands my time and energy. But I know you will be the most beautiful fiore in the entire garden, with or without this dress.

I love you now and always,

Papa

You blink through tears, clutching the letter tightly in your hands.

Your mother had worn this dress; her hair had flowed over it, her skin had warmed the delicate fabric and her wild and boundless heart - that heart that could swallow the world -  had hummed beneath it like a hummingbird in her chest.

You clutch the dress a little tighter, embracing it, feeling a new kind of warmth gush through you like butterbeer and sunlight. Its as though your mother is hugging you back, holding you to her chest so you can listen to her hummingbird heart one last time.

In that moment, it’s as though your mother is alive again. 

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