#also i made these when i had just discovered this really nice red pen so i felt bold enough to do some pen doodling

[lonely--seeker]

Puppy!!

[oldguy56-world]

White Christmas

We sing about this every year but who really wants a lot of snow to fall on Christmas? Interesting that the song was written by someone that didn't actually celebrate Christmas, but that is another story. It has become tradition to want snow at Christmas time but it is only good if you are the people staying home and others are driving to your place.

Tradition at Christmas has become a very big thing, and of all the holidays this one has the most traditions. They are important to many people, but not all. If you don't think tradition is important tell Grandma not to make her rock hard gingerbread men this year. See if you make it out of her place unscarred.

My crack team (I guess I should add 'of interns' but the three words I have typed says it all) has done some research on how some Christmas traditions began. I know you will not be able to enjoy the holidays without finding out this incredible information.

Mistletoe. This was started by a lonely office manager Lou Zir who happened to have an all female staff. He was getting none all year long so he devised this fool proof plan to get some lovin' every year. Not surprising it caught on. There are a lot of men who can't get women and this seemed like a good start. Pay homage to Lecherous Lou.

Stuffing a turkey. This one started by accident and out of anger. A wife asked her husband to go out and buy some nice bread to have with their Christmas meal. He had spent almost all of his money on gifts so he bought a cheap loaf that was a few days old. When he got home she tore a strip off of him and told him to go back. When he asked what should he do with the one he bought she told him to shove it up his @%#. He knew he wasn't going to do that but noticed the turkey on the counter with that gaping hole staring at him. He took his frustration out on the poor dead bird and the rest is history. Or tradition.

Having a Christmas goose. This one was started in the states. Every year the Canada goose would migrate south. The Americans would see these fat ugly birds and say 'I wonder what that tastes like' so they did what they like to do. They shot them and ate them. If you live in Canada never have a pet goose because there is a good chance when they go for a winter vacation they just might not return.

Exchanging gifts. This started with people cleaning out their closets and giving away stuff they didn't want or need. Soon it became a competition as to who could give away the worst thing they owned. This has since spiraled out of control and people actually go out and buy stuff other people don't want. Think Not? Check what you get this year and try not to say to yourself 'what the hell were they thinking?' for at least one gift you get.

Wrapping gifts. Started by the pulp and paper industry to make extra cash at the end of the year. This caught on because of the exchanging gifts thing. You could now get rid of stuff early to make space and hide it under the wrapper. This unfortunately also gives false hope that something nice is buried. That long thin box you believe has a necklace in it is only a pen. Yippee!

Santa Claus. This one started out of self preservation. An old burglar all dressed in black was trying to break into a home via the chimney but fell because he was getting shaky. The noise he made woke up the house. The people were about to call the police until the saw the bag of loot he had taken from another house. He said that an anonymous person was sending these gifts over. The people were touched and let him go, but not before telling him he should wear a bright color like red so people did not think he was sinister.

Eggnog. Men discovered early on how easy it was to hide the amount of booze they were drinking this way. Made it thick and lumpy to deter others from their stash.

Overeating. This is a holdover from when people hibernated. We don't need to anymore but nothing makes people happier than eating so much they can't move.

Traveling home for Christmas. People need that annual reminder as to why they moved so far away in the first place. Might as well make it an occasion where you will get a lot of food, booze, and gifts you can give away to people where you are currently living because there is no chance they will run into the person who gave it to you in the first place.

THOUGHT OF THE WEEK: Despite the traditions, Christmas is a joyous time of year. The best tradition you can keep alive is to love your family, value your friends and show them that you do all year long. Merry Christmas.

[mutigold]

∞ teacher’s pet — i.n.

summary: in which the top student fails a test and gets extra help from his favorite professor.

pairing: student!jeongin x teacher!reader

genre: college!au

warning: sub!jeongin, dom!reader, pet play, noona kink, exhibitionism, handjob, ear licking, humiliation, quirofilia, seduction, he still has his braces.

word count: 1.9k

authors note: i really don’t know where this idea came from, but all i know is subby jeongin = 🤤. thank you for supporting me! watching people like my little writings really make my day.. hope y’all enjoy this <3. stream “Going Dumb”!

“would anyone like to explain what it means to be dependent on an organism?”

jeongin’s eyes concentrated on you, as he listened to your voice encompassing the leveled platform. today’s lecture was based on the living organisms in the world and you seemed to be determined for everyone to learn the curriculum.

however, jeongin could not focus on anything except your figure. you were wearing a white skin-tight turtleneck and black formal pants that emphasize your ass. all topped off with a large suit jacket and black louis vuitton heels.

it overall made his heart jump for joy just enjoying the view.

he thought about how those heels would look wrapped around his waist as he pounds into you; screaming his name. or maybe how your tiny hand would slip around his throat as he begs for your come.

“mr. yang?”

jeongin quickly snaps out of his trance to hear you calling his name. and not in the way he wanted.

you looked up at him with sad eyes, upset at him for not paying attention to your favorite lesson. “what’s going through that head yours? is it more important than organisms?”

he quickly fixed his posture, shaking his head rapidly, and responded with, “n—no, i’m sorry noona. i just was thinking too hard about something. i’ll promise to listen from now on.”

you hummed with caution, continuing the biological lecture. the student sighs gratefully for you letting him go off easily and tries to at least take some notes.

“yo, i.n. you okay?” a familiar voice whispered.

jeongin turns to see his two close friends, seungmin and felix, staring down at him in question. “yeah, you seem a little off today.”

confirming he says, “uh. y—yeah; i’m okay.”

“mhmm. okay with staring professor y/n down huh?” felix smirks.

the heat on i.n. 's cheeks becomes noticeable when hearing about his staring. he then tries to ignore the statement by writing his name and the current date in his notebook.

“leave him alone felix. he’s just probably having some problems with the lesson; you should perhaps ask noona for help.” seungmin tries to intervene.

“yeah; i mean, maybe noona can also help you with other problems. if you know what i mean.” felix grins bumping jeongin’s arm.

“f—felix!”

“boys?! care to tell us what is so interesting other than my lesson?” your voice suddenly booms throughout the room. jeongin jumps at your tone and begins to apologize again once making you soften.

“that’s alright, but please pay attention. oh, and jeongin, stay after class for a few minutes to speak with me.”

he didn’t know what to think at that moment; with felix oohing in one of his ears and seungmin trying to shush him in his other or the fact that you wanted to talk to privately.

alone, with no one around, made his mind officially shut down.

“you wanted to speak with me noona?”

you shifted around to see jeongin’s stiff form; then took note of how nervous he looked and gave him a light smile. “hey, kiddo. i just wanted to see how you were doing lately.” you wished to see some type of relief release through him.

but unfortunately, that didn’t happen.

he still looked kind of anxious to speak with you, letting you know how intimidating you seemed. “hey it’s all good, you're not in trouble or anything, i promise. i’ve noticed how you’ve been acting recently in my class and how your scores dropped a little,” you reassured.

“ai! i’m so sorry noona!”

you giggle at the student’s consistent apologies. in your mind, you thought how cute he was; like a puppy aching to gain approval from its owner.

maybe you could make him as your puppy and work hard for that admiration.

immediately, you shake your head from the naughty images. ever since the semester started a few months ago, your thoughts almost ran around yang jeongin.

how his pretty smile, concealed by clear braces, shined at your speaking, how his crescent-shaped eyes followed your every move; making you feel sexy, how large and veiny his arms grew over time within the season, etc.

“that’s alright, jeongin. i just want you to feel comfortable in my lectures. how about this, you and i have a session later this evening to cover the material for the next exam. what do you think pup’?” you offering, accidentally calling him by the pet name you gave him.

after catching the tiny nickname, jeongin clumsy drops his possessions while feeling something swell in his pants. he begins to overthink the word. pup’? why did that sound so nice coming out of your mouth? and how was he gonna hide the fact that his dick got hard in the middle of their conversation?

“i–i’m sorry!”

“oh! no worries hun! here; let noona help you out.”

you instantly proceeded over, bent down, and gathered i.n.’s school objects. starting with some of his blue pens, his macbook, and then his green two-subject notebook. “n–noona! i got the notebook, it’s okay.” jeongin stuttered.

it was almost like he was trying hard to hide something in the notebook, and suddenly it all made sense as it opened to the front page.

yang y/n. it was his surname combined with your first name.

it seemed as if time swiftly froze with silence when discovering the secret. however, it didn’t bother you essentially much as jeongin thought it would have had. “aw, pup’, this is cute. yang y/n has a nice ring to it, don’t you think?”

the air that was in jeongin’s lungs properly stopped working when distinguishing how seductive your tone became. “i–i..”

“relax a lil’ pup’. listen, will you promise to meet me later this eveningfor some tutoring. i think you could really use it. plus if you’re good–”

you shifted closer to the student’s ear lobe and whispered, “–noona could give you a reward.”

jeongin swore he felt some pre-cum drip down from his pants. “y–yes, noona.” he swallowed trying to moist his dry throat, then jumped moaning in pleasure when your small hand gripped around his erection.

“good. see you then, pup’.”

a few hours later, jeongin ends up at the university’s public library, not knowing what to expect. though, he did make sure to be ready for any possible situation. what did you mean by rewarding him? did you feel the same way he did?

you must have since you did touch his swollen cock during your conversation. or maybe it was just his imagination?

jeongin sighs restlessly thinking of the concept while waiting for your arrival. that soon ends as he hears your alluring voice greet out, “hiya pup’! ready for our lesson?”

he peers up from the library’s table to see you wearing informal clothing. a tight crew neck that reveals your smooth arms extending down to red-painted nails and large breasts bouncing with every step you take.

“ah! i hope you weren’t waiting too long, i got held up in traffic.”

“t–that’s okay noona! i just got here.”

you smile at his nervousness, now acknowledging where it came from, and sat down in the hard chair right next to him. “good, we can get started. i hope you’re ready,” you whispered, feeling an urge to dominate.

jeongin gulps recognizing a certain excitement coming from his pants within hearing your tone and replies with, “r–ready?”

“so, what does adaptation consist of?”

jeongin couldn’t comprehend what you were saying being he focused on the way your glossed-up lips looked. the way he could imagine it wrapped around cock or it traveling up and down the side of his neck molding kisses; it worked him to the point where he was solid hard.

“pup’, what is going through that mind of yours?”

“s–sorry. it’s just, i guess this lesson isn’t grasping in my head yet.” he tries to explain not wanting to upset you.

however, instead of upsetting you, your colored eyes just darken. “oh! i have any idea; remember when i said i would reward you if do good–”

jeongin nods excitedly, making you giggle.

“–well, i know you understand the concept of this chapter. so to push you a little more, i’ll ask you a question and if you get it right, that little cock of yours will get to come.”

the student freezes up at your approach, thinking it was a dream too good to be true. “w-wait what?”

“what is the definition of homeostasis?”

“i, uh, i think it's an organism's constant adjustment to maintain stable conditions in itself?”

you reached under the table discreetly and unbuttoned the pants on jeongin grasping his swollen cock. “o-oh my god, noona!”

“shh, pup’. you gotta be quiet for me; now onto the next question. who created the biogenesis theory?”

jeongin’s breath became too much for him to handle feeling the pre-cum drip from his blood-filled tip. “n–noona, please.”

“come on puppy, tell me the answer or i stop.”

his mind starts to rush trying to find the answer before you let him go. it took him a couple of seconds, but once he got it, he hurried to speak. “henry charlton bastain!”

“good puppy.” your tiny hand moves faster, satisfied with the statement. you felt his cock throbbing with every stroke you took. like jeongin, you dreamt of this same exact moment. you wanted to control the poor student every time he walked through your room, when he made eye contact with you, or even when his plump bottom lip was bitten from his teeth.

and finally, it was happening.

“oh, who’s a good puppy for noona?”

“m-me! i am noona.”

“that’s right pup’. next question, what are the five steps to the scientific method?”

i.n.’s vein from his cock popped out sensing the rubbing moving faster than before. “i only know four noona!”

“too bad, i wanted five or i slow down.” you coldly demand.

jeongin began to try to think hard on the five steps letting the sensation run through his body. “o-okay. it’s defining the problem, making a hypothesis, testing it, analyzing the results… then..”

your hand slows at his hesitation. “give me the last one puppy.”

“oh! noona, don’t stop! i–i. is it d–drawing the conclusions?”

“good puppy!”

his cock grows bigger when your finger grips at the base. then, you painted nails lightly scratch at his tight balls. “oh! noonaaa. that feels sooo goood. pleaseee.”

“continue to answer like a good pup’ then i’ll keep going.”

soon after the next few questions, jeongin sits near his breaking point. “nooonnnaaa! please!”

“grab your textbook and hold it up.”

i.n. clutches the hard-covered biology book to cover both you and him from public eyes. suddenly, you lower yourself to his lips, deeply kissing him with tongue, and wander towards his earlobe. “one more question, pup’. what does stimulus mean?”

“uh! noona! please let me come! make your puppy come!” he moans a little too loud.

“shh. answer the question, then i’ll let you come.”

“s-stimulus? it m-means anything an organism responds to.”

you then move your head to spit down to moist his penis. “good puppy! getting your small cock rubbed in front of everyone like a little slut.” you cup the back of his neck feeling the shivers release through him.

“you can come pup’, come for noona.”

jeongin then lets go, coming hard in your hand. “o-oh! thank you, thank you noona!”

after guiding him to his high, you let go of him and licked the white, sticky substance from your hand.

“good puppy. i’m sure you’ll be ready for that next exam.”

[chicksung]

The Firsts With My Last || Park Jisung

Genre: fluff, lil bit of angst, best friends to lover au

Pairing: childhood best friend!jisung x reader

Word Count: 6.3k

Warning/s: small argument, food 

Synopsis: a collection of firsts with Park Jisung

A/N: Aaaaaahhhhh!!! it’s finally here! I cannot express how happy and excited I am for this! I worked so so so hard on this and I hope that you enjoy it! Feedback is welcome! Thank you to the lovely Elle @joh--pping for making the header! 

Networks: @nctnetwrite​ @nct-writers​ @kpopscape​ @neoturtles​ @neoswitchnet​

Taglist: @moonbeamsung @lebrookestore @jaeminpeachy @joh--pping @kyuwoyo @nksideblog @ncvltrtchnlgy @vera-liscious @ncteaxhoe @neojaems @ethaeriyeol

First meeting

First grade, a time where your biggest worry was if you would be home in time to watch your favourite cartoon. That was also the age you met Park Jisung. Your teacher had handed out a simple colouring-in to keep the students entertained for the few minutes before the lunch bell rang. You had been peacefully drawing when one of your classmates, Chenle, had tried to grab the blue coloured pencil that was in your grasp. It was part of a pencil set your grandmother had given to you and you held it very dear to your heart, so the fact that one of troublemakers was trying to take it from you, made you severally upset. Despite the discouragements from his friends to leave you alone, you and Chenle continued your intense game of tug-o-war on the pencil until you heard a heart stopping snap. The pencil splintered down the middle, unable to take the pressure anymore. You could only eyeball it in shock, reality finally settling in that Chenle had broken your favourite pencil. The bell rang and you stared at Chenle, scooping up the two halves of the broken pencil into your chubby hands. You were the first one out of the classroom, tears streaming down your face as you grabbed your lunchbox and disappeared into the playground.

You hid behind a tree, attempting to summon your much needed magical abilities to somehow stick the two halves back together. No matter how hard you pressed them into each other, they wouldn’t bond together with an invisible force. At this realisation, you began to sob again, hiding your face into your knees, quiet wails escaping your lips. You continued to cry until you saw a pair of red and blue shoes come into your tear blurred vision from beneath your legs. You looked up and were met with a chubby cheeked child, a child you recognised as one of your classmates and one of Chenle’s friends who had tried to convince him to stop roughhousing with you.

“I’m sorry about your pencil. Chenle can be a bit of a butthead,” The boy gave you an awkward smile before shifting the wood chips and dirt around with the toe of his shoe. “Do you mind if I sit with you?” He asked politely, his eyes big and friendly. As much as you wanted to be alone and definitely did not want to be accompanied by someone who was on friendly terms with the culprit of the state your pencil was in, you couldn't find it in your heart to say no to his friendly gesture. You nodded sadly and he immediately occupied the space next to you. He looked at the broken pieces in your hand and a smile crept to his face. 

“There is one good thing about your broken pencil,” He stated, making you snap your head towards him.

“What is there good about this? My favourite pencil is broken because of your dumb friend,” You didn’t mean to snap at him, but you were so overcome with emotions and anger for what had happened, it slipped out. The boy looked at you, a little shocked at the fact you had called his friend dumb, but at the same time, he had called him dumb on multiple occasions. 

“Think about it! If you sharpen this side of this one,” He pointed to the more splintered of the two pieces, “you could have two blue pencils,” He said with such innocence and optimism that it was infectious. You looked at the half and smiled. You had never thought about it like that. You were too caught up in the fact that it was broken to focus on anything else. 

“You’re right!” You squeaked, a small laugh erupting from you. You turned to the boy once again, an unanswered question lingering in your mind.

“What’s your name?”

The boy smiled again, but this time it wasn’t awkward. “Park Jisung. What’s yours?”

“Y/N.”

First Realisation of Feelings

The 7th grade school dance, where the room is cramped and hot, full of hormonal preteens to early teenagers. Not exactly the place Jisung expected to see you. You had often expressed your dislike for the majority of the grade and you never liked being in overcrowded places, the perfect word to describe the gymnasium that was decorated for the occasion. Yet here you were, standing in the corner, hands behind your back, looking down at your shoes and playing with the hem of your dress. Jisung quickly ditched the conversation he was having with Sungchan and Chenle and made a b-line towards you. You were glad he saw you. You didn’t want to be here, only here by force from both your friends and your parents, your parents saying that you should socialise more outside of school hours and your friends saying it would be fun. However, your friends had made a b-line to the boys they liked from the grade, leaving you to stand there awkwardly until you could no longer stand watching your friend drooling over quite arguably the biggest jerk in the grade. As for your parents’ word, the only thing you could think to tell them is ‘why socialise when I’m most comfortable around the clumsiest boy in the class?’

“Hi,” Jisung said, the same awkward smile on his lips.

“Hi,” You replied. You didn’t need to be a psychic to know that Jisung wasn’t exactly here on his own terms, most likely only here for Chenle (who you had since reconciled with after the incident in first grade) 

“You told me you weren’t coming,” He pointed out, trying to get rid of the slight awkwardness in the air. Why was it so awkward? It wasn’t normally like this.

“I wasn’t until I was made to by my friends and my parents,” You explained, shooting a glance to your friends, who were practically at each of their respective male attention giver’s beck and call. Why were they your friends again? “Is it just me or is it getting hot in here?” You brought attention to the sudden rise in the temperature, fanning your neck as you looked around for a possible air source, more so, a possible way out. Jisung nodded. He didn’t feel hot, but the gymnasium was cramped, and there were a lot of warm bodies inside of it, so he didn’t blame you. 

“Yeah, let’s go outside. The breeze is really nice out there.” 

After checking that the coast was clear of any members of faculty that might force you and Jisung to go back inside the gym, you ran to the gardens, a place that was quite pretty. Right next to the school flowed a river, which connected to the parent pick up area, accessible by bridge. You and Jisung stood side by side, watching your reflections ripple with the current of the water. The moonlight danced prettily with the water, creating a type of reflection that Jisung had only ever seen in movies. The cool summer breeze brushed against his skin, diminishing the sweat on his forehead. 

Then he looked at you. 

Your hair was lifted off your shoulders by the wind, the moon casting a silvery shadow across your face, fitting neatly across your facial features like a glove, but his breaking point was when you looked at him. It was as if someone had taken all of the stars in the galaxy and placed them one by one in your eyes. You looked so...beautiful. His heart rate increased dramatically and he was sure there was an intense blush that spread from his cheeks to his ears. Did he always feel like this when he saw you? Surely not. His heart had never raced like this before, and he definitely had never felt so speechless. What could this all mean? Could he...like you? “Hello? Earth to Park Jisung?” Your voice cleared the clouds of doubt from his mind as he finally closed his gaping mouth. “Are you okay? Do I need to tell a teacher?” You asked, a slight furrow in your brow appearing out of concern.

“Y-Yeah, I’m fine. Just spaced out for a second.” He looked away in embarrassment, his eyes drifting over his reflection. Oh God, he was blushing. “The view was pretty and I guess started daydreaming.” 

“Were you daydreaming about someone?” You asked simply, before a smile broke across your face. “Were you daydreaming about me?” Jisung almost choked on his spit at your words.

“Was not!” Your laughter only picked up in volume, Jisung having to shush you and remind you that you were not supposed to leave the gym. 

“I’m only teasing you, I know you wouldn’t daydream about people. You just like to think about video games and food.”

“Hey, I do not! What’s with the Jisung slander?” You laughed. Something about your laugh was addicting, like a song he had just discovered and was unable to stop the lyrics from playing in your head. 

It’s been three weeks since the dance and you and Jisung were in the library, studying. Well, if you were to classify copying your science homework as homework because he had completely forgotten about it. You were currently working on your analysis for your Literature class, reading over the assessment outline to make sure you could get the best grade possible. You looked over and Jisung and he looked so relaxed. His round glasses perched comfortably on the bridge of his nose, his eyes scanning your answers before jotting them down onto his own page, his fingers wrapped firmly around his pen, and his lips pushed into a little pout as he concentrated. He looked so laid back, so relaxed despite the fact he had nearly had a heart attack when you told him that the homework was due by your next class, which didn’t give him enough time to do it at home. With your thoughts swimming through your head and so far into your daydream, you hadn’t noticed that his head had picked up and you were now staring (quite awkwardly) at each other.

“Is there something on my face?” Jisung asked, trying desperately to break the awkwardness between you two. You shook your head rapidly, assuring him that his appearance was fine and you had just spaced out. Well, you hadn’t completely lied. His appearance did look fine, and you had spaced out, you had just decided to leave out the reasoning as to why you had spaced out. 

Your cheeks burned harshly, like you were sitting in direct sunlight at the beach without any sunscreen. Is this what a developing crush felt like? Surely not. There’s no way you could have a crush on your best friend. That was weird, according to your friends, but then again, these were the same friends that said that you and Jisung were perfect for each other, so you don’t think they are a very credible source. 

Was this how crushes develop? Yes. Yes it was 

First Confession

Sophomore year of high school. People are calming down from exam week, finally getting the recommended hours of sleep after the countless number of all nighters that were pulled to cram, drinking water instead of the copious amounts of caffeine. The autumn air was starting to set in and the leaves were starting to fall, catching the wind and creating a train for oranges and browns. You and Jisung were walking home from school, your head pounding after the amount of brain power wasted on several test packages that weighed too heavily on your overall grade in your opinion. 

“How about we go get ice cream and go to the park? My treat to the both of us working so hard?” You suggested, turning to the equally emotionally drained best friend beside you. At the mention of a delicious sweet treat, his head perked up and he nodded.

“Yes! Anything to stop my head from hurting,” His lips formed the most relieved smile, your pulse increasing at the sight. In an attempt to calm your racing heartbeat, you watched the leaves, long fallen from the huge oak trees that towered over you, crunch underneath your feet, a little bit of stress releasing each time you stepped in them. Jisung seemed to pick up on this, his smile taking on a playfully mischievous role. He raced ahead of you and jumped, his feet landing firmly in a pile of leaves. The dead leaves flew up around him, creating a skirt of sorts around his waist. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing, a stupidly large smile shared between the two of you. 

“Come on, let’s get this ice cream before the store closes. We’ll never get there if you keep acting like you’ve never seen leaves before,” You rolled your eyes, continuing down the path, your back now facing Jisung. He jogged to your side, bumping your hip with his when he did.

“You don’t know that.”

“We have literally been friends since we were 5, I think I would know,” Jisung cursed inwardly after taking a second to process what you had said. 

“T-That’s not fair and I- hey! Hey! Wait up!” 

Walking down a simple path in the park, the bumpy texture of the wafer cone in your hand, and the occasional playful cheers of children and dog passing by was simply relaxing. The simplicity of the noises of everyday life, the perfect natural remedy for an exam induced headache. 

You and Jisung came across a beautiful area that overlooked the huge lake in the middle of the park, a popular skating attraction during the winter. There were a few ducks waddling around the water’s edge, a few gliding gracefully along the water and few attempting to ruin a couple’s picnic by stealing their sandwiches. As you sat down on the ground, the crisp breeze whipped lightly across your face, you were relaxed, almost completely forgetting about the exams you had taken only hours earlier. 

Jisung was staring at you, he was sure of it. In fact, he’s pretty sure that the elderly couple sitting metres away from the both of you would see it. He followed your gaze when your eyes fell on the most adorable mother duck, being followed by her clumsy ducklings. You liked the one at the back the most, always the most clumsy. You turned to Jisung, a teasing smirk dripping from your lips.

“You see the one at the end?” You pointed to the duckling, whose little webbed foot had caught on a twig, sending it rolling onto its side. Jisung nodded. “That would be you as a duck. The overly clumsy baby of the family,” Jisung’s eyes widened in slight offense at your comment.

“What do you mean? I’m not clumsy!” He tried to defend himself, only gaining a snort from you.

“Right, and I’m the Queen of England,” You said sarcastically, looking back towards the ducks. Between the time you had turned away to tease Jisung and right now, another duck had come back in search of it’s sibling. The duckling looked curiously at the fallen duck, before turning its head and let out high pitched quacks to its mother and signalling her to come back. Jisung watched as the mother duck picked the duckling up by the scruff of the neck and put it back on its feet. 

“And if you were a duck, that would be you. Always looking out for the clumsy one,” He commented, watching the family waddle off to a different area of the park. Taking another spoonful of his ice cream (you refused to let him get a cone. With how accident-prone he was, there was only fate for that poor ice cream cone, and it involved Jisung dropping ice cream down his crisp white shirt) before sighing. 

“Ducks are cute like you too,” He thought out loud, forgetting that the you in question was sitting right next to him. 

“Did you say something?” You asked.

“I-I said ducks are cute, and then I stopped talking!” Real smooth, Park. 

“Right…” You said, knowing damn well that isn’t what he said, but you didn’t wish to press further. “My legs are asleep, let’s walk a little more.” You suggested, almost leaping from your spot on the ground. Jisung scrambled to stand up too, his ice cream almost slipping through his fingers. 

You walked for what felt like miles, talking about everything under the sun. You hadn’t realised how far you had walked until you were facing the street, with the name of your street written in printed letters on the sign. 

“Guess my legs knew it was getting late before I did. I should probably get home before my mom yells at me. See you at school tomorrow, right?” Before you could walk away, you felt a hand on your wrist. Jisung’s hand. 

“Wait, I need to tell you something,” Jisung’s voice sounded desperate, like if he didn;t say this now, it would kill him. 

“What? Did you leave your jacket at the park again?” You tried to joke, but Jisung’s eyes just pleaded with you.

“Please just listen,” Jisung said, his tone coming out a lot sterner than he had meant to. He exhaled deeply before placing both of his hands in yours, his head swimming with thoughts. 

“I like you.” His eyes, his tone, the slight smile on his lips. They all were dripping with sincerity. 

“What-” 

“I like you. I don’t expect you to accept my feelings but I just really needed to get this off my chest because I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while and-”

“I like you too,” You interjected with a smile, squeezing Jisung’s hand.

“Y-You do?” He repeated your words in his head like a broken record, watching as you gave him a confident nod. 

“Yes. Now, can I go home now?” Jisung flustered himself and nodded, letting go of your hand and waving as you disappeared down your street. His cheeks were glowing red, surely resembling a firefly. You liked him too? He felt like a giddy schoolboy, a smile plastered on his face. This was quite possibly the best day of his life.

First Date

“No, no. Absolutely not, I refuse,” Jisung screeched as you swung into an empty parking space in the car park of the ice skating rink. You giggled evilly to yourself. 

“You said I get to pick the location of our date, and I choose the ice rink,” You reminded him smugly, giving him a sickly sweet smile. You sunk down in his seat, grumbling unheard profanities as he knew you were right. He had given you the power to choose where you two would have a date together, a power he was now regretting giving you. 

“Lighten up, will you? One ice skating session isn’t going to kill you,” You rolled your eyes, making your way towards the entrance to the building. 

“I seriously doubt it,” He grumbled, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his jacket.

There weren’t many others on the rink, some small children with their parents, the odd couple or two, but it was quiet. Well, quiet customer wise.

“Don’t let go of me! I’m too young to die!” Jisung squeaked, your arm wrapped in a death grip from the boy.

“Jisung, you’re not gonna die, not on my watch,” You assured him, helping him up as his knees shook like a newborn giraffe. You were able to shake the grip he had on your arm and hold both of his hands before skating backwards very slowly. “You trust me, right?” “More than anything,” He affirmed. You smiled and tugged him along, giving him perfect momentum to stay on his two feet. You swung yourself around so you were now skating besides him, intertwining your fingers together like puzzle pieces. Gliding together, you felt like you were skating in the middle of a snowy escape, a winter wonderland. You felt as if you were skating with the Snow Kingdom’s prince (except if the Snow Prince didn’t know how to skate) and the snow was falling gently around you delicately. 

This fantasy ended when your hand was jerked backwards. Your skates hit an oddly slipping part of the ice, causing you to slip over and fall promptly on the ground, finding yourself face to face with the culprit, your clumsy boyfriend. 

“Heh, sorry,” He apologised, awkwardly scratching the back of his head. You couldn’t find it in yourself to feel any kind of unamused emotion towards the boy, only bursting into a fit of giggles. 

“You’re too darn cute,” you admitted, knees knocking as you got back onto your feet. You extended your hand, offering it to Jisung as assistance to get him back on his feet. 

“Do you wanna try again?” It was more of a suggestion than a question, but you still hesitated, afraid of him saying no.

“What are my chances of getting a concussion?” The boy joked, a bright and gummy smile breaking across his face. You stifled a laugh.

“Pretty high when you assess the situation,” You answered in an amused tone. Jisung suddenly pulled you closer and placed his hands on your cheeks. His slender fingers were freezing cold against the rosy tint of your cheeks, but you didn’t seem to mind all that much. You could see him having an inner battle with himself before grinning in victory. He leaned closer to you, placing a peck to the numbed tip of your nose. Your heart fluttered like it had been caught up in a whirlwind of butterfly wings, delicately carrying them to a higher level than before. You swore you were giving Jisung really obvious heart eyes, but from the way he was looking at you, the exchange must’ve been mutual. 

Jisung finally pulled himself together, slow realisation sinking in of what he had just done. “S-Sorry,” he apologised softly, his fingers slipping away from your cheek. You caught it, bringing it down to the height of your shoulder and intertwining your fingers with his. 

“Don’t be,” you said cooly, cautiously skating towards the exit to the rink. “I’m starving. Let’s go find lunch. You can pick this time,” you smiled cheerily at him. He snuck a glance to you as he untied the laces of his ice skates. There was something about your smile that was so enchanting, sort of subtle, and perfect, and real. He couldn’t help but wonder if you even knew how wonderful your smile could make someone feel. Especially a someone like Jisung, someone who would find elegance and serenity in the tiniest things you do. He cursed his heart for fluttering stupidly fast, not that it heeded his thoughts, only beating harder the more he stared at you.

“Let’s go,” You announced, extending your hand to him. He grabbed it without a second thought. This felt like home to him, with someone who meant the world to him.

First Kiss

“Jisung, this is crazy! My parents will find out about this!” You whisper-yelled at Jisung, reluctantly throwing on your coat and shoes. Jisung smiled like a fool, feeling like a modern day Romeo as he waited on your front porch. You threw the front door open, seeing your boyfriend, absolutely drenched from head to toe with rain. The rain had been falling heavily for half an hour, so you couldn’t help but wonder what inside his mind decided that he would walk to your neighbourhood in the pouring rain just to see you?

“Jisung, it’s two in the morning. Why are you here?” You interrogated once you shut the door.

“I wanted to see you. Is that such a crime?” He countered, a sly smile resting on his pretty lips. You scoffed, playfully pushing him away. Jisung took a few paces back, extending his long fingers to you.

“Huh?” You vocalised your confusion.

“Come dance with me,” He said, waiting patiently. You hesitated for a moment. You feared the fact that your parents would definitely ground you if they found out that you were escapading at ridiculous hours of the night just to be with a boy, but on the other hand, this was Jisung you were talking about. The night, or morning if you were to be technical, wasn’t getting any younger and nor were you. In that moment, you didn’t care if your parents found out about your late night adventures. You grabbed Jisung’s hand and smiled.

“Show me to the dance floor,” You announced confidently.

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. Running and shoving each other in the rain, willingly. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only light to remind that the world was still there were the dim streetlights, illuminating only within its reach before fading back into darkness.

You danced under the streetlamp, your very own spotlight. You risked the chances of a cold, for the feeling of freedom, to be two dumb kids, fooling around at forsaken hours of the night. You had a smile to your ears and your laughter rang out loudly throughout the slumbering neighbourhood. You squealed when he pulled you closer to him by your hips. Your hands instinctively rested on his shoulders, eyes focusing on him, the water droplets that fell from his soaking wet hair and the goofy smile on his lips.

The laughter that the two of you died down, both of you completely infatuated by the other. How pretty they looked with raindrops kissing their skin, how their eyes sparkled when the light hit them at this angle. Jisung bit the inside of his cheek in hesitation. What if he was reading the signs wrong? What if you didn’t want to? He cautiously leaned forward, and you followed suit. Your lips met briefly before Jisung pulled away, scanning your face for any sign of discomfort or disgust. Instead, he was met with your eyes sparkling brightly, a huge smile breaking across your face. 

“You kissed me,” You said, slightly astonished at Jisung’s bravery.

“Yeah, I did,” He mumbled, trying to come to terms with the event that just played out in front of him.

“Do it again,” You egged.

“Excuse me?” His eyes blew wide at your comment.

“Kiss me again.”

To the rest of the world, the two of you probably looked like idiots. However to the both of you, you were the only two people in the world. The only two people in your world. 

First Time Falling in Love

The stars twinkled brightly in the dark sky above, like silver glitter that had been thrown into the depths of space. You admired the stars, wishing you could fly up there for a second just to dance among them. It was your calming activity before bed, talking to the stars about your day, especially if it wasn’t particularly a good day. The best part about today however, was that you weren’t gazing up into space in your bedroom, instead lying in the grass with the cool breeze on top of a hill that overlooked the city lights, and you weren’t gazing up into space alone, instead in company of your boyfriend, Jisung.

The two of you had spent the last hour and a half stargazing, talking about everything and anything, the big things like school systems, and the little things like the ladybird that had crawled it’s way up a blade of grass before taking flight above you. You were sleepy and ready to go home. You and Jisung were standing, facing each other, giving the sky one more quick glance before you left. When your vision came back down, you met Jisung’s eyes. They were pretty, a dark chocolate brown, the type of brown that when light hits them at just the right angle, they turn into pools of honey. They were entrancing, glittering, beautiful. It seems like he was just as entranced by your gaze as you were his, as the both of you stood in silence. Finally, Jisung mustered up enough courage like the day he asked you out, and cupped your face. His hands pressed flush against your cheeks, feeling the warmth from your blush underneath them. His lips parted and closed again, like he was trying to tell you something but was second guessing himself.

“I think,” Jisung started, trying to collect his thoughts before speaking. “I think I’m in love with you.”

“I’m glad I’m not the only one,” You laughed softly, your eyes flickering from his eyes down to his lips, so full and kissable. Without a second to think, he pulled you closer, pressing a soft kiss against your lips, a kiss full of sweetness and amateur love, but you wouldn’t have it any other way.

The two of you broke away and smiled. “Shall we go home now?” You asked with lovestruck eyes. He noticed. He smiled.

“Yes, we better,”

You were maybe just a little bit in love with Park Jisung.

First Argument

You can only recount one argument with Jisung. 

You sat there at the cafe, looking around nervously for him. The constant checks of your phone and the cafe door every time the bell rang to signify a new customer, you silently hoped it wasn’t true. He wouldn’t do this to you. You refused to believe it. There was no way, right? There was no way Park Jisung had forgotten your date, right?

Wrong.

“Jeno, has anyone ever told you, you suck at MarioKart?” Chenle asked teasingly, pillow colliding with his head, which caused Toad to fly off the edge of the course. Jisung laughed hysterically, tears forming in his eyes as he drove Yoshi to victory. Amongst the commotion going on inside, the doorbell rang. Renjun, who was not participating in his friends’ antics, decided to answer it. Upon seeing you, he was a bit shocked to see you there. You barely showed up there, so to see you standing outside the door, with your coat folded between your arms and a displeased look on your face, took him by surprise.

“Jisung, it’s for you,” Renjun called into the door, abandoning you at the threshold to take over Jisung’s controller. 

When your boyfriend saw you, he smiled with a twinkle of confusion in his eye.

“Hey, what are you doing here? We were just playing MarioKart if you-”

“You forgot, didn’t you?” You interrupted bitterly, boring holes in his soul from your gaze alone. Jisung looked at you for a second, trying to comprehend the words that had left your lips moments ago. 

“Is it your birthday?” Jisung asked stupidly. Anger flashed in your eyes before you grabbed him by the shoulder of his t-shirt and tugged him out of the dorm. With the door now acting as a barrier between the argument and the fun his friends were having, you could now speak freely.

“3pm, Culture Cafe. Does this mean anything to you?” You interrogated, your tone bitter and upset, a lethal combination. Jisung’s eyebrows furrowed in thought, wracking his brains to try and make connections between the two. 

“Our date, Jisung! Our fucking date!” You yelled at him, growing bored of watching him try and remember. “We planned this three days ago, how can you not remember?” Your voice softened in disbelief. “It was just this one thing, but instead I come here and find you playing video games with your friends.” The more you spoke, the more tears blurred your vision. 

Jisung swore he heard his heart break when he saw a fat tear roll down your cheek. He had caused those tears, over just how forgetful he really is.

“If there was a more sincere way of saying sorry, I would say it. I can’t think of the words to-” Jisung was cut off by your sobs. He immediately panicked, grasping your shoulders, feeling like a kicked puppy. “No, no, no, baby don’t cry. I promise I’ll-”

“I can’t be here any longer. Just give me a few days,” you used those words as your salutations of farewell, turning on your heel and walking away from him. You silently screamed at yourself for getting so upset over a stupid date, but this wasn’t like Jisung. He was so adamant about not forgetting the important things, so why would he forget this? 

It had been five days since the confrontation with Jisung, and you had not spoken to him since. You left him on read with every text message, and deleted every voicemail he left you. You acknowledged you may be acting a bit brashly, but you wanted him to feel the same forgotten feeling that sat in the bottom of your stomach when he left alone at that cafe. 

You wanted Jisung to apologise. You just didn’t expect him to apologise the way he did.

Your doorbell rang repetitively, clearly trying to divide your attention from your comfort show. You reluctantly stood up from your comfy spot on the couch, and walked towards the door. Upon opening it, you saw a boy with dark dishevelled hair with a cake in hand. The cake was messily decorated and seemed a bit squashed, but you could still tell it was supposed to be a heart shape. 

“Is this your way of apologising?” You asked him monotonously, your eyes still on the cake. Jisung nodded. His eyes seemed puffy.

“I don’t mean to ruin the apology, but why does the cake look a bit…”

“Squished?” Jisung finished, a sad smile playing at his lips. “Chenle, the stupid ass, sat on the box before I left. All my hard work, now flattened,” He gave a half hearted chuckle before silencing himself.

“Look, I am really, really sorry. I was stressing, and the boys thought it would be a good idea if I spent time out of my room and play some games with them to stop moping around, and I didn’t realise how fast the time went and I forgot about our date and then I felt horrible and I-” He rambled on, an embarrassed blush colouring his cheeks and the tips of his ears. He stopped when he heard you giggle, a soft, almost whimsical sound. You took the cake box from him and smiled. 

“You put all of this work in, just for an apology?” You asked, a soft smile subconsciously creeping across your face. 

“You weren’t answering your phone, so I got desperate,” Jisung admitted, awkwardly scratching the back of his neck at your reaction. You stepped forward to kiss his cheek, his skin warm against your lips. 

“So, am I forgiven?” He asked nervously, feeling cold sweat dribble down the back of his neck. 

“Depends. Are you gonna share this cake with me?” You countered, stepping aside to invite him in. 

“Who did you bribe to allow you in the kitchen by yourself?”

“Hey!”

First Dance

“Hurry up, we’re going to miss the sunset,” Jisung tugged you up the hill, sunlight casting over his face the higher he hiked up the mountain. You let out a tired laugh as you allowed him to drag you up the mountain. Once you reached the top, you finally understood why he wanted to show you this place. The view was spectacular. The sunset gave the landscape an orange hue to it, even the ocean sparkled like magnificent glitter. The orange specks glowed like millions of fireflies, creating a picture perfect landscape, one that belonged within the walls of a world famous museum. 

“This is stunning,” You sighed in awe, the dusk lighting flicking its rays into your irises. Jisung nodded firmly, pride bubbling in his chest at knowing he picked the perfect place.

“Baby?” He asked, hiding his shyness as best he could.

“Yeah?” You answered, eyes breaking away from the beautiful atmosphere to him. He held his hand out, suggesting something.

“Dance with me?” He asked politely, a pink tint colouring the tips of his ears. You giggled lightly.

“Dancing is meaningless without music,” You informed, warm breeze whipping past the exposed parts of your skin. Jisung whipped out his phone, briefly tapped on the screen and waited before a soft and calming song played from the speakers. He slipped it into his back pocket, quickly taking your left hand in his right, his left hand coming down to rest on your waist and steadily rocking you to the melody. Your head rested against his chest, inhaling his warm scent. He smelt of fresh cotton sheets and something else that can only be described as the sweetest fruit of the summer. 

The moment felt like a scene out of a fairytale, a nonsensical world that only manifested in the creative young minds of children, however the way the gentle breeze kissed your cheek and ruffled your hair, the last of the sun’s rays pressed a warm glow to your skin, it felt too real to be make believe. 

Jisung twirled you around on the spot, a giggle escaping your lips as you fell gracefully against his chest. As you spun around to face him again, the look in his eyes could only be truly explained with one word; ‘Lovestruck’, like his whole world revolved around you. You were his moon, his stars, his world. You might as well have been his whole solar system, dammit. He pressed a soft chaste kiss your lips, pulling away and leaving only centimeters between the both of you.

“I love you,” Jisung’s face lit up like the fireflies that played in the valley beneath you. You cracked a giddy smile, lacing your fingers with him.

“I love you too,” You requited, realising that the song you were originally dancing to had faded out some time ago, only dancing along to the beat of each other’s heart. He laughed at this discovery, holding you closer and hearing the faint drum of your thumping heart. He hummed to himself as thoughts of you swam through his head, but only one stuck out to him. It was less of a thought and more like an idea, a wish, a dream, a promise.

You are my first love, and I intend for you to be my last

[kaiparker-avengerssmut]

Their Doll 4

Y/n Stark

B.Barnes x Reader, S.Rogers x Stark!Reader

series synopsis:  y/n Stark, all records of her non existent, and yet Hydra still find her. When she is kidnapped by a certain super-soldier and no one believes her, she finds herself searching for unexpected familiarity in her not-so-distant past.

Series Warnings: smut, violence, torture, swearing

Chapter Summary: the avengers find some stuff out about y/n

Warnings: swearing

A/n: The timeline in this has been altered, as there I things I wanted to include but I also wanted this fic to follow the storyline/timeline of Winter Soldier and Civil war.So for purposes of this fanfic, Peter Parker was discovered by Tony at a much younger age - when he was bitten - and has been an intern with him since, almost like a protégée.(For the purposes of this story Peter was bitten much younger too - more like when he was 9 or ten rather than 14/15)

Masterlist | Series Masterlist

"SO there's some weird HYDRA girl locked and sedated in my basement? Cool, don't want to know." Tony dismissed, not looking up from his white mug as he tipped a generous amping of sugar into his black coffee. He swirled the liquid in the mug and turned around, leaning against the counter as he raised the drink to lips lips and took a sip before sighing intently. Bruce frowned, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Tony, I don't think you get it, I ran a DNA test and-"

"And she's probably some innocent girl that went missing years ago and was never found? I get it, I feel bad for her but at the end of the day she has nothing to do with me." Tony dismissed, pushing away from the counted to deposit his now-empty mug in the sink. He turned the tap on, rinsing out the cup before carelessly placing it on the drying rack.

"Just, please, come and see her. You won't regret it, and if you do - dinner's on me?" Bruce suggest, arms outstretched in welcome. Tony rolled his eyes, before scoffing.

"Yeah, no. I'm good. Catch you in the lab later though?" Tony was quick to deflect, exiting the room with so much as another glance. Bruce's hands feel to his side with a slap as his shoulders sagged in defeat.

...

Bruce nervously paced the lab, desperate to tell someone his horrifying discovery. The click of the door made his head snap up, a smile of relief spreading his on lips at the sight of Nat.

"Nat, finally." He sighed, walking towards the scowling girl.

"What did you need to tell me Bruce? You sounded pretty urgent when you called." She pressed, crossing her arms over her chest and raising a brow. His smile faulted, his gaze dropping to his hands where he fondled with a biro pen.

"I- uh. I made a... discovery about y/n." Bruce confessed, finally meeting Nat's eyes.

"Go on.." Nat prompted. Bruce took a deep breath, chewing on his bottom lip nervously. "Bruce-" she started.

"Y/n isn't entirely human-"

"Well we knew that much."

"It's what she is, that's shocking. Looking threw all her blood tests and whatnot - it's showing she has an ability to manipulate minds when she s-sings. It's like a certain note her voice forms that can control the minds of people around her."

"So what is she?"

"I don't know, there's not really a name-"

"A siren. She's a siren." A third voice joined the room, and both the avengers' heads snapped round to the direction it came from. In the door stood Steve, shoulder leant against the frame and ankles crossed.

"Who's watching y/n?" Nat asked.

"Clint. Anyway, my father - he used to read me a story when I was a kid. The Odyssey, I believe it was called. It was a Greek myth about a bewitching girl who lured saloons in with her voice so she could feed off them." Steve continued, pushing himself off the door frame and walking further into the room.

"There's no way that's real, though." Nat dismissed, frowning heavily at his words.

"No, no. He has a point - I mean, look at Steve. Look at me." Bruce said, gesturing to himself and Steve. "We shouldn't be possible, but science does some crazy things. Y/n was with HYDRA, right?"

"Yes, but-"

"Well, what if they did this to her. We know she was taken when she was young, so what if they did so to experiment on her?"

"I should go talk to her, you know - girl on girl. She seems to like me, maybe she knows what she is and she might open up to me, if I ask nicely." Nat suggests, walking out the room when she was met with no protests from the two men.

"There's something else I should mention." Bruce started fidgeting again, which man Steve's brown knit together.

"What is it, Bruce?" The super-soldier prompted. Bruce continued to fidget, not looking up from him hands as he spoke.

"Are you aware Tony used to have daughter?" Bruce asked sheepishly.

"Tony had a daughter?" Steve said, brows now raised with genuine shock. He knew of Tony's...escapades from before he was with Pepper, but he couldn't see Tony as the type to actually keep a child from just a one-night stand.

"She was adopted, some kid he found on the streets with no parents. So he took her in, raised her and then she just disappeared. Many people have forgotten she existed, and those that remember her are all under the impression that she is dead. I thought so too, until..." Bruce paused, flipping through some papers on his clipboard until he found what he was looking for. "Until this." He finished, handing the board over to Steve.

In Steve's hands was proof that matched y/n's DNA to that of Tony's adopted daughter.

"Well that explains the name, and her hesitation to tell us who she really is." Steve frowned, eyes scanning over the paper repeatedly. Bruce hummed in agreement, taking the clipboard back from Steve when he held it out for Bruce to take. "Do we tell Tony?" Steve asked after a moment.

"He doesn't want to know, I've tried telling him but he doesn't care." Bruce told Steve and Steve pressed his lips together as he thought. "I do think we should wake her up though. If she's Tony's daughter there can't be anything that's more dangerous about her than you expect her attitude." Bruce said and Steve nodded, suppressing a laugh.

"I'll tell Nat to wake her up." Steve said as he exited the lab.

...

The steam from the shower engulfed me, my hands running through my hair and brushing out the tangles lightly. As I scrubbed the shampoo from my scalp, I hummed a small tune - thankful to be somewhere noisy enough that I wouldn't risk affecting anyone with my powers. After waking me up Nat told me to clean up and get changed before handing me a pile of clothes and telling me that she would meet me at my room in half an hour to take me to meet the rest of the team.

Shutting the water off, I slid the glass door open and my feet padded onto the thin bath-mat. The towel wrapped around me as I patted my hair dry with another one, looking over my scarred figure in the large mirror opposite me.

A large scar spanned the width of my stomach, smaller remnants of cuts littering my thighs that were joined by one larger one from where I was once stabbed. Looking at myself over my shoulder, I observed the large scars that spanned over my back, the layers fading at different degrees from their varying ages. The memory of how I got them brought tears to my eyes, which I was quick to blink away and focus back onto what I was doing.

Pulling the large sweatshirt Steve had lent me over my head, I left the large bathroom clad in a pair of leggings and some socks I borrowed from Nat. I brushed my fingers through my wet locks, detangling them. I threw the towel onto the bed in the room I had been assigned and plopped down next to it, taking my time to survey the room I barely got a look of earlier.

The door to the en-suite bathroom I just exited sat on one side of the room, accompanied by a big closet and a dressing table. A chest of draws was propped next to the king sized bed the sat in and the free corner housed a small kitchen. It had a stove, fridge-freezer, sink and a few cabinets. On the side sat a kettle, toaster, blender and some chopping boards.

A sharp knock on the door bought me back to my senses, making me perk up a little at the sound of Nat's voice.

"You feeling okay?" I nodded. "Good, well Steve and Bruce want you to meet them in conference room 4. I'll take you." She quickly added the last part in seeing my scared face.

As we walked down the halls we chatted, talking about our pasts and finding out that we were fairly similar - we were both forced into the bad things we did, we both found a way to redeem ourselves, neither of us have ever had a boyfriend and we both love chicken noodle soup.

"Well, this is it." She announced, pointing at a door to our left. I nodded, going to open the door before pausing and turning around.

"Thank you. For taking me with you, for giving me this chance, for hiding me from HYDRA - thank you, really." I spoke softly, giving her the friendliest smile I could muster.

"No problem. I couldn't live with myself if I knew we could've helped you. Everyone deserves a second chance."

"I genuinely can't thank you enough - you saved me." I said, quickly swiping away the threatening tears with the heels of my hands.

"I was nice meeting you, y/n."

"You too." And with the last words said, I pushed the door open, walking into the room and being instantly greeted by Bruce and Steve.

"Hey, y/n, why don't you take a seat and we'll get the introductions out the way?" Bruce suggested and I nodded shyly. I took a seat next to Steve, who appeared to shuffle slightly away from me but I couldn't be sure.

"So, another midgardian?" a bulky man with shoulder length blonde hair and a red cape clipped to his shoulders broke the silence. He was clearly the God I'd been hearing about - I mean how much more of a costume does he need to look like Thor?

"Yes, we think so." Bruce confirmed. I frowned at this. Midgardian? What the hell was a midgardian?

"We think she's been tampered with, like me," Steve elaborated, "but as far as we know, she is of this earth." Steve spoke and Thor nodded. "We are keeping her safe from HYDRA." Steve said to break the silence as they all stared at me with funny looks. I kept my eyes cast down now, cheeks hot with embarrassment after feeling so many eyes on me at once.

"Does she-" I interjected the second I heard another voice. I stood abruptly, pushing me seat back and wincing at the screeching noise it made before resuming my angry face. I slammed my hand down the table as I stood, catching the attention of everyone sat at the table.

"If even one more of you refers to me as 'she' rather than just fucking talking directly to me I am going to end up sirening one of your asses!" I demanded, seething with anger. A grin broke out on Thor's face.

"Atta girl, I like this one already!" He laughed and I sat down again, smiling contented ay his compliment.

"She's got Tony's patience, all right." Another man remarked with a smirk. Steve simply rolled his eyes as common menus about my attitude were thrown around the room. Finally, someone addressed me. It was a woman with Blonde hair and kind eyes. She looked motherly.

"Hey, I'm pepper." She smiled kindly and I quickly reciprocated it. They went around the table - the man who had commented about my patience was called Clint, the blonde man was was indeed called Thor and obviously I'd already met Bruce and Steve.

"I'm y/n." I returned and she repeated my name in her beautiful voice, almost as if she was testing how I'd felt in her mouth.

"Y/n. A stunning name for a stunning lady." Thor commented, boyish grin still in place and I gave him a sheepish smile.

"Oh, cut it out big guy - you're like, a billion times her age." A voice came from the door and we all turned to find out who it was.

"Tony. I wasn't aware you'd be joining us." Steve said in a monotone voice and Tony gave him a tight smile.

"You don't get everything your way, Capsicle. Now, who's this?" Tony said, stuffing a mouthful of blueberries in his mouth before stuffing the bag of food in his back pocket and motioning to me with a nod.

"Tony, this is y/n," Bruce said moving out the way from where he was standing so Tony could see my face. The man's eyes widened instantly as the recognition sank in. "Y/n Stark."

[ruewrites]

May I suggest a oneshot of the fantastic three (Dia, Luci, and Barbs) hanging out together but instead of being all StRIcKTlY PrOFeSSioNaL it turns out that they're just absolute idiots together? I know that isn't super specific but I just really love the idea of those three doing dumb stuff as friends and enjoying themselves. Also I think the excuses they'd have to make to avoid getting caught would be hysterical.

(Also mostly platonic if that's alright with you, if I'm breakingany rules feel free to ignore)

All Play, No Work

AO3

Ships: None

Word Count: 1043

 Warnings: None

A/N: I hope you liked this! I had a fun time doing it, sorry it took me so long! And don’t worry, you didn’t break any rules! Thank you for being so kind!

“Excellent shot my Lord,” Barbatos smiled as the small piece of paper flew between his fingers.

Diavolo was grinning from ear to ear as he started to make another one out of a piece of notepaper. Truthfully, Lucifer wasn’t sure why he thought they’d get any work done. Perhaps he believed that his efforts combined with that of Barbatos would help keep Diavolo on task,  and that all three of them would be able to have a productive time. However, Lucifer was quickly realizing that this wouldn’t be the case.

“Maybe you could move the goal a little to the right Barbatos? That way I can really test my aim,” Diavolo said. He closed one of his eyes and started lining up the paper triangle for his shot. Barbatos nodded and moved his fingers ever so slightly to the right.

Lucifer sighed and put down his pen, watching as the folded piece of paper flew towards the goal. It was short, just like his patience.

The firstborn closed his eyes and rubbed the bridge of his nose, “Lord Diavolo, perhaps this little activity of yours would be best saved for later? After you have finished your work?” It wasn’t a question despite being phrased as such. Diavolo wasn’t one of his brothers, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t chastise him like one of them. 

Diavolo laughed and went back to folding yet another paper triangle, “You should really learn to relax a bit. This could count as work you know, the humans taught me how to play. I find it rather entertaining and a great way to learn about them.”

The triangle hit Lucifer square on the nose, making him scrunch up. He swore he heard Barbatos snort, but there wasn’t a way to prove it. He made a mental note to hunt down both Solomon and the other human after his work was completed.  Picking up the little paper triangle, he raised it until he was at eye level with it. It didn’t unfold easily. Honestly, humans were such odd creatures amused by the simplest of things. It astounded him sometimes, the things their own human had been drawn too. Lucifer wondered if he’d ever understand any or it, or if it would simply remain a mystery to him forever. His brothers also often became enamoured by human things often, and Lucifer tried to understand, he really did, but the meaning escaped him frequently. 

Yet it didn’t make sense for such to be the case, because on the surface it was all so…

Simple. 

Diavolo’s smile started to falter so slightly as he watched Lucifer stare at the little paper triangle. “Come now Lucifer,” he huffed, “Paperwork will always be here! Humans come up with such fascinating little games to entertain themselves with! Surely playing one or two couldn’t hurt, besides we may miss one if we’re late on experiencing another-”

He was cut short as the paper hit his chest and then landed on his desk. 

“Ah, so I suppose I haven’t lost my aim,” Lucifer chuckled, “One game, then we get back to work.”

**********

With some begging and pestering, one round quickly became two, and then three, and then another game entirely. Lucifer would tell anyone who asked that he’d been annoyed and that he wanted to do nothing more than to get back to his work, but in reality he was having a rather fun time. He didn’t even remember when they broke the demonus out, he just knew that he had a refilled glass in his hand as he was being dragged along in Diavolo’s fun. He wasn’t drunk per say, only the slightest bit tipsy. 

Currently, a little red balloon was being passed from one demon to the other.

“The last time Solomon wanted to cook with me, I gave him clay and told him it was dough, when he discovered my rouse, I apologized and said I made a mistake and that he could help next time,” Barbatos sighed, using his tail to smack the balloon towards Lucifer.

“But of course you didn’t mean that.” 

“Oh heavens no. I wouldn’t willingly let him into my kitchen, not even if he twisted our pact in order to get his way.”

“Don’t you think you’re being a little harsh? He does have a passion for it,” Diavolo’s brow furrowed as he pushed the balloon back.

“My Lord, with all due respect-”

Lucifer cut in, “His monstrosities could take out all three realms with little trouble. I’m not exaggerating.”

Diavolo caught the balloon and walked closer to Lucifer, “While that may be true, it wouldn’t hurt you to be a little kinder to the exchange students no?” 

Before Lucifer could question anything, Diavolo furiously runned the balloon onto his head, leaving the firstborn looking rather bewildered. This time Barbatos didn’t snort. A laugh escaped him before he managed to cover his mouth. It took a while for Lucifer to even notice that Diavolo no longer had the balloon in his hands. 

“Oh Lucifer! Look at you! You know you just look so adorable like that!” Diavolo’s boisterous laughter filled the room.

“I do say, I have to agree with you young Master.”

Lucifer closed his eyes for a moment before reaching up between his horns. Oh this. This was a thing human children did to amuse themselves right?  It shouldn’t surprise him that It amused Diavolo too, many things amused him. 

Before Lucifer could even utter his next words, the door opened. 

“Hey Lucifer? You here? I was wondering if I could… borrow… some…”

Mammon and Lucifer locked eyes for a moment. Raven black hair a mess, small paper triangles all over the floor, and a mountain of paperwork surrounding them. The air between the two brothers was tense, and neither one dared to move a muscle.

Mammon’s eyes wandered up to the balloon sitting atop his brother's head before slowly lifting his phone.

Click.

There was only a brief pause before Mammon took off down the hallway, Lucifer hot on his heels yelling all sorts of obscene threats towards his cackling brother. 

“Ah, well that was nice while it lasted,” Diavolo sighed, “You did get a picture of him though, didn’t you Barbatos?”

“Of course my Lord.”

“Excellent.”

[connieslover]

the librarian and the princess

༄ؘ fem! princess reader, librarian armin

༄ؘ royal au, fluff

(play this song for the best ~ vibes ~) also if this does well ill consider doing an eren ver tehee

✧˖*°࿐ in which you are a princess and armin is head over heels for you. 

armin was your average librarian (with way above average looks). he was a male with short blonde hair and bangs that reached his eyebrows. his large ocean blue eyes and small pointed nose made up his young boyish features.

ever since he was a child, he had a fascination with the ocean and the world. this curiosity lead to him becoming interested in books. before he knew it, he was in love with the world of reading. it was his getaway from reality. 

the woody earthy smell enveloped armin as he entered the library with a small smile on his face. he made his way over to the counter and looked through the list of books that were borrowed. 

after greeting a few regular visitors, helping some children to look for a book and dusting the shelves, he remembered the large pile of returned books. he sighed before deciding to go organise them back into their spots.

as he slid a book into a shelf, the bell of the library rang, indicating that someone has entered. 

“welcome!” he greeted, eyes moving from the book in his hands and towards the figure at the entrance of the library.

the figure wore a dainty plain coloured dress that fitted her nicely. a few locks of her hair peeked out of the green cloak she was wearing. her fingers pulled down her hood, revealing her face. her reddish lips were slightly open as her dazzling eyes gazed upon the library with such astonishment until it paused at him.

with fluster, the books in armin’s free hand slid out, causing them to fall onto the floor with many thumps. his cheeks reddened in embarrassment and he quickly bent down to pick them up. as he clumsily picked up the books, his and the figure’s hands grazed upon each other. he looked up and felt like his breath was taken away for the second time.

his eyes was met with her e/c orbs.

“oh! here,” she quickly grabbed the book and handed it over to armin who simply nodded as a thanks. she stood up from the ground and patted her hands on her dress.

armin was still speechless.

“this library... it’s very astonishing...wait no! it’s enchanting,” she marvelled, looking around.

“t-thank you,” armin sheepishly thanked. 

the book that armin held caught her sight. 

“i love that book!” she beamed, “the little mermaid was my favourite story when i was a child. well it was one of my favourites but anyways isn’t it romantic how ariel traded her legs for the prince? it was kind of stupid of her to do so but it was still romantic,” she rambled, her eyes gleaming as she did so. armin could only give a small giggle.

“i’m y/n by the way. what about you?” she introduced herself, reaching a hand out to the male. armin’s eyes darted towards her and her hand.

‘y/n? that name sounds...familiar,’

“armin arlert. i take care of the library,” he introduced himself, shaking her smaller hands.

you gave him a smile, “nice to meet you, armin. perhaps you could show me around the library?”

armin nodded almost too enthusiastically. you giggled at the way he almost dropped the books in his hands in excitement.  

as armin continued to give a tour of the library he loved dearly, you asked him a few questions regarding the library and the books. armin admired your interest and how your eyes sparkled whenever you spoke about the books. it was the first time he felt so excited to talk to someone who had the same interest as he did.

“where i live, my library books are all just about history, politics and more lame stuff. whereas here...there’s so much more genres that i can explore! it’s so fascinating,” you gleamed, your hands outstretching as you speak. 

“w-well you can borrow as many books as you want,” spoke armin, fiddling with his fingers.

your eyes grew wider, “really? thank you so much armin!”

after picking up a few interesting looking books, you gazed at the clock on the wall and gasped. 

“oh my, i have to go back soon. but i’ll make sure to come back here tomorrow!” you wore your hood again and gave a thankful smile to armin who returned it.

“i’ll see you tomorrow then,”

the male couldn’t sleep that night. he was spent all night thinking about the beautiful stranger he befriended.

✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧

and so, a week passed by. a week of you visiting the library, exchanging conversations with armin about your day or the most random things or about the books you’ve read. 

and a week of armin slowly falling in love with you.

armin constantly looked at the clock, feet tapping against the wooden floor. once he heard the bell ring, a delighted smile made its way on his lips. 

“hi armin! i finished the book you recommended to me yesterday. i didn’t expect the plot twist at all. jane’s character development was something else. this might be one of my favourite books now. oh! not to mention the part where mark-” your cheeks turned pink, feeling embarrassed that you were rambling for too long.

“i-uh sorry for rambling. but i really loved the book!” 

“it’s fine. i like listening to your rambling,” armin chuckled. and he wasn’t lying. he really did like listening to your rambling. something about the way your eyes would light up, the way your hands would move animatedly as you spoke and the little sound effects you’d make to add depth into your story was all utterly adorable to him. 

you placed your elbow onto the counter and leaned against your palm, letting out a sigh,

“i wish i could stay here the whole day. this library...is the only place i can escape reality. it’s so calm and comforting,”

armin nodded to your words, agreeing. before he could speak you stood up straight again.

“well, i’ll be searching for more books now,” you did a twirl and excitedly skipped towards the many rows of books, humming delightfully.

armin looked at you with such fondness with his eyes that he didn’t even hear the bell ring.

“could that be the lady you are so in love with?” startled, armin let out a squeal, dropping the pen he had in his hand. his cheeks flushed red as he picked it up.

“e-eren, mikasa, when did you guys come?” he squeaked, hiding his reddened face behind a book.

“just now. but you were too busy staring at the girl,” the pale black haired female responded.

“soooo aren’t you going to introduce us to her?” eren raised a brow, staring at the female who was looking through the books on the shelves.

“fine,” 

as you were reading the blurb of a book, you felt a tap on your shoulder. you turned your head around, greeted with armin and two figures behind him. at the sight of your face, eren gasped loudly,

“p-princess y/n?” 

armin’s eyes nearly bulged out of its sockets.

that explained why you had such a short curfew. why you always wore the green cape. why you were very cautious and why you had this some sort of royal elegance radiating from you.

eren and mikasa had their heads bowed, startled, armin followed suit before jumping to his feet.

“oh my goodness forgive me! i didn’t know that you were a princess y-your majesty,” armin fretted, bowing once again. 

the tips of your ears grew pink in embarrassment and you ushered armin to stand straight.

“i’m sorry for not telling you...this is the only place where i really feel like myself you know? and you...you’re my first friend outside of the castle. i didn’t want you to treat me like i’m...a royal,” you apologised, fiddling with your fingers.

“it’s alright. i should’ve known you were royalty when you introduced yourself, your highness,”

you gave out a laugh, “you don’t have to call me your highness. that counts for the two of you too. y/n is fine. anyways, you were introducing me to your friends?”

"this is eren,” armin introduced a brunette male who was the opposite of armin. he had a more mature face, accompanied with a muscular build. his brunette hair reached past his ears and down onto his neck. he was quite attractive.

“and she is mikasa,” the pale skinned woman with enchanting grey eyes and short black hair simply nodded at you.

“nice to meet you, y/n.” eren stepped forward and took your hand, kissing it lightly. he straightened his back, “armin has told us a lot about you,”

a rosy pink covered his cheeks and nose.

you simple giggled, raising a brow to armin, “oh really?”

"you shouldn’t tease him eren,” scolded the female.

your eyes glanced at the clock, realising it was your curfew. 

“it was nice meeting you, eren and mikasa. i hope we can meet again! i have to go soon,” you placed your hood back on and before you stepped out the library, you turned your heel, waving the book in your hand, “i’ll be borrowing this book! thanks armin,”

“so, whats your plan on charming the princess?”

✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧

you didn’t come the next day.

or the next.

and the next.

hundreds of questions ran through armin’s mind. he was worried that your parents had discovered that you were sneaking out of the caslte when you weren’t supposed to. asides from feeling worried, he felt gloomy. gloomy that your bright and cheerful presence wasn’t here to make his day better.

“what am i thinking? she probably won’t visit the library ever again...i should’ve told her i liked her...no...she probably doesn’t even like me that way. besides, a princess like her...deserves someone whose worth more than a librarian.” muttered the boy to himself as he dusted the shelves.

the bell rang.

“welcome,” he greeted, already knowing that the person he was looking forward to wasn’t the one standing by the door.

well, that was what he thought. 

the blonde male turned around and to his surprise you were there. you had a smile on your face, your upper body leaning towards him. the close proximity startled the poor boy, making him fall onto the floor.

his mumbled an ow as you chuckled, a hand reaching out to help him out from the ground. 

“w-where did you go? did your parents find out? are you okay?” blurted armin, his doe eyes blinking rapidly.

“i’m fine armin. sorry for not visiting the library for the past few days. something important came up,” you explained. 

armin gave a sigh of relief, knowing that you weren’t in any sort of trouble.

“speaking of the something important...princess historia, my sister, is hosting a ball tomorrow as it’s her birthday. i was wondering if you’d like to come? oh and eren and mikasa too!” 

armin’s mouth flew open.

“y-you don’t have to force yourself to come. i just thought that it would be nice if-”

“i’d be delighted to come,” he sputtered.

your eyes twinkled and you could barely hold your excitement. you placed your hands onto armin’s shoulders,“oh my goodness thank you! i was worried for a second that you didn’t want to come. i could show you around the royal library! and introduce you to my cat. oh! i could introduce you to jean, connie, sasha and ymir too! that would be so much fun and-”

armin’s head tilted at your pause.

embarrassed that you were rambling once again you let go of his shoulders, “s-sorry. i got carried away again,”

“it’s alright, y/n. i’d love to finally see the castle,” 

“i’m sorry but i have to go back early. historia wants opinions for her dress tomorrow...make sure to be there by 8! and tell the guards that princess y/n personally invited you,” you wore your hood and waved goodbye to armin before skipping away. armin stared at your figure until it disappeared.

his heart was beating rapidly.

“d-did i just get invited to a royal ball?”

✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧✧༺♥༻∞༺♥༻✧

“woah look at the ball room! it’s so...huge. and there, isn’t that captain levi? and erwin smith? holy crap!” eren loudly whispered to erenn and mikasa, pointing at a tall blonde male who was stand next to a shorter yet intimidating looking male.

but eren was right. the ball room was huge. royal and exquisite.

the walls were white, with sparkling chandeliers hanging down from it. there were carvings on the walls which resembled beautiful flowers and greek gods and goddesses. 

armin could only feel anxious.

“where’s y/n? shouldn’t she be here?” wondered mikasa, adjusting the red scarf around her neck. armin looked around the ball room, eyes searching for you.

“there you guys are! i was looking everywhere for the three of you,” the three heads turned towards you.

armin felt like the air was knocked out of his lungs. this was the first time that he saw you truly dress like a princess.

you were wearing a dazzling simple ball gown that ended right at your ankles. the colour complimented your skin beautifully. your shoulder and collarbones were on full display. not to mention your hair, was let loose with slight waves at the end. your makeup was fairly simple, making your gorgeous features more prominent. the silver tiara that laid on your head pulled together the look. 

“h-hello?” you waved your hands in front of the trio.

“y/n, thank you for inviting us,” mikasa thanked, giving you a gracious bow.

“thank you, princess,” eren followed mikasa and bowed, winking at you. your cheeks turned the slightest shade of pink.

before eren could say more, mikasa had dragged him away, leaving you and armin alone. 

“you-” the both of you spoke at the same time. 

“you go first,”

you chuckled before speaking, “you look nice,”

and of course, you weren’t lying. instead of the messy blonde bangs armin usually had, it was slicked back (except for a few strands that stuck out). his undercut was even more prominent than before. he wore a dark blue attire which complimented his bright blue eyes nicely.

“you too, y/n,” a blush seared through his milky cheeks. 

“come on, i’ll give you a tour of the castle!” you grabbed armin’s wrist, thrilled to show him around the castle. especially the library.

once you were done showcasing armin the castle and the library, and introducing to him your close friends, the two of you ended up in the balcony of the ballroom. the music from the orchestra played while the two of you leaned against the railing of the balcony, looking into the dark and starry night.

“this has been the most fun i’ve had in a while,” you breathed.

armin turned his head to observe you. admiring your profile as you looked into the sky. he then turned his attention to the ball room where people were already dancing.

“would you like to dance, y/n?” he asked offering his palm to you. 

“yes, prince armin. it would be an honour,” you teased. you placed your hands on his shoulders while his hands were gently holding your waist. 

with the light from the moon, it made armin more handsome than usual. his eyebrows had a slight furrow as he was concentrated in following your rhythm as you both swayed. his concentration broke off when he accidentally stepped onto your foot.

“i’m so sorry!” he apologised, his cheeks turning red in embarrassment.

you simply laughed at him.

“thank you, armin,”

“for what?” he asked, slightly puzzled.

“for recommending books from the library and for you know...being my friend. when i��m with you, i feel like i can be myself. not a princess nor a royal but me,” you smiled, making armin’s heart skip a beat.

“i should be the one thanking you,”

“m-me?” you tilted your head.

“for making my days better. for being the reason i get excited to wake up in the morning and for teaching me what falling in love is like,” your cheeks were suddenly kissed pink, like a rose. you turned your head to the side to avert armin’s gaze, flustered and shy.

you felt him gently pull you closer by the waist. your chests against one another. you turned to face armin again. the blooming pink colour of his blush was adorable against his milky skin.

you moved a blonde strand of hair away from his forehead, placing a hand on his cheek. with affection reflecting into each others eyes, the two of you slowly closed your eyelids, sharing your first sweet kiss under the moon. 

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s Returning from Afar Date (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 远归之约, which has not been released in English servers! 🍒

[ This date was released in CN on 28 Sep 2020 ]

This is the 29th day of Gavin’s mission, and also the day he said he’d return. 

As agreed, I’m in Gavin’s house to water Little Spiky. Since I’m already here, I also tidy up the place, which hasn’t been habited for a month.

MC: Mm, its rootstocks are healthy, the colour is lush and green, and it’s growing well. Now to put it under the sun.

I carry it to the window carefully, letting it soak in sunlight.

My line of sight lingers on the wind chimes hanging near the window. I reach out to pull at the crystal piece. 

The bright and limpid crystal suddenly sends my consciousness back to the week before Gavin departed for the mission. 

[ flashback ]

The afternoon wind blows the curtains upwards, brushing across the crystal shoes glittering on the floor.

If one were to ignore the slight scratch at the back, this would have been a perfect souvenir.

I squat on the floor, one hand holding the “main culprit” - the broom, and another hand gripping my phone, giving the manufacturer a call while feeling upset. 

MC: Hello? I’m the person in charge of [MC’s Company Name]. We held an activity and ordered crystal shoes from your company. Do you still remember that? 

Person in charge: Miss MC, right? I remember, I remember. Do you want to collaborate with us for another event? 

MC: Ah, actually, one of the crystal shoes has a scratch on its back. I wanted to ask if it’s possible to fix it? 

Person in charge: Hmm... Because of the way it was designed, that batch of crystal shoes were specially handled, so traditional restoration works won’t be effective. But since you’re a regular client of our company, we can send you a pair based on the address you gave us. 

MC: ...no need for the trouble. Since it can't be restored, it’s fine. Thank you.

I hang up, a little disappointed. 

In the midst of cleaning up, I had accidentally scratched the crystal shoes Gavin gave me the other time. 

[Note] MC is referring to Gavin’s 2 Become 1 Date, which is available in EN.

Although the damage is slight, it’s not something I can just ignore.

While sighing, I store the crystal shoes back into the box, and place it in the cabinet. 

At this moment, a low knocking sound resounds from the door.

When I open it, I see that the person standing at the door is Gavin.

Light and shadows are cast on his profile, illuminating his sharp and soft eyes.

Gavin: What are you busy with? 

He walks in while speaking. Without him noticing, I prod the the box containing the crystal shoes further into the shoe cabinet. 

MC: I was doing a cleanup, but it’s almost done. 

Gavin responds with a “Mm”. He seems to hesitate, then walks over and takes my hand in his, his thumb rubbing it gently.

Gavin: I have a mission in a few days. It’s of a high level, so you might not be able to contact me for a while.

I freeze for a moment, subconsciously recalling how Eli had previously detailed the dangers of Gavin’s missions.

MC: ...is the level of danger very high as well?

Gavin: Mm, it’s a little dangerous. Which is why I have to go. 

He pauses, then continues. 

Gavin: You don’t need to worry. Before the 30th of next month, I’ll definitely be back.

He speaks confidently. Suppressing the worry in my heart, I give him a smile.  

MC: All right. I’ll take care of Little Spiky. And will wait for you to come back.

[ end of flashback ]

The wind chime clangs, its melody light-hearted and lively. However, I can’t help but sigh. 

For some reason, the second day after Gavin left, I discovered that the crystal shoes in the cabinet had disappeared.

I searched the house, but couldn’t find a trace of them. In the end, my guess was that a thief had stolen them.

Even after pondering over it a hundred times, I remain puzzled about the thief’s motives, and couldn’t fathom how a thief could have broken in. To be safe, I ended up changing the lock. 

MC: When Gavin returns, should I tell him about this...

All of a sudden, the wind outside grows stronger, causing a magazine on the table to flip open with a rustle. 

MC: What’s this? 

I walk over, holding up the magazine. I flip through it randomly, and wind up on a page which has been folded. 

It features a custom-made jewellery shop.

The vibrant front cover is incompatible with the cold colours of Gavin’s house. On the page, the eye-catching font forms the shop’s name - “Cang Xing”.

[Note] 苍星 (“cang xing”) directly translates to “dark green star”.

MC: Isn’t this the private studio which opened recently?

In a program not too long ago, I got to know about this shop. Although its prices are hefty, and the workmanship takes quite a long time, it has a very good reputation. 

I find myself getting confused.

MC: Is Gavin interested in this shop too...

The phone suddenly rings.

Designer: Hello. Is this Miss MC? I’m a designer from Cang Xing. Previously, a customer ordered a gift for you. May I know if you have time to drop by and have a look today?

MC: A gift? 

My eyes flit to the magazine in my hands, a vague guess surfacing in my heart. 

MC: All right, I’ll head over now. 

-

Pushing open the doors to the studio, it’s as though I’ve stepped into another world. 

Soft white muslin can be seen everywhere. Jewellery of various colours can be seen on the ivory tables, brilliant like stars in the dark night. 

The table near the entrance has visitors’ book. The designer doesn’t seem to be around, so I instinctively pick up a pen and flip it open, planning to write my name down.

After signing my name and preparing to shut the book, I suddenly see familiar handwriting. 

On the upper section of this page, amongst a mix of illegible and serious font, there’s a handsome and light-hearted one. 

It’s Gavin’s.

The date that he filled in was the third day before he left for the mission.

??: May I know if you’re Miss MC? 

A staff dressed in working attire walks towards me.  

MC: Mm, I’m MC. 

??: Nice to meet you, I’m the designer who talked to you over the phone earlier. Please follow me. 

I follow the designer’s directions and walk towards a reception area at the side. 

Several pink jasmines are scattered on the table of the reception area. At the side, there’s a long white silk ribbon, looking as though it’s been tied halfway.

MC: Is there an event happening in the store today? 

Designer: No, there isn’t. These were leftover flowers from an earlier event. I just thought to use them to decorate the shop. I didn’t expect you to reach so quickly, so I was only halfway done with the decorations. 

The designer explains in embarrassment. 

MC: I see. Oh yes, you mentioned a custom-made gift in the call...

The designer casts a glance towards the door, her expression turning apologetic.

Designer: Well... I have to wait for the customer who ordered it to arrive before I can tell you. I’m really sorry about that. 

I nod my head pensively. Looking at the unfinished decorations, I break the silence. 

MC: Since I have to wait, why don’t I help you with the decorations? 

Designer: How could I ask that of you!

MC: It’s fine. Is this meant to be hung on the wall? 

While speaking, I pick up the jasmine flowers on the floor, and hand it to the designer. 

After that, we stand on the stools, hanging the jasmine flowers on the wall. The white muslin sways gently next to us.

At this moment, the door is suddenly pulled open. What follows is the sound of specially made boots. The footsteps are slightly hurried, and they pause not too far off. 

Gavin: Sorry, I arrived slightly later than scheduled. 

I lift my head abruptly, turning around and wanting to hop off the stool. But my coat gets stuck on a hook, which has jasmine flowers hanging on it. 

MC: !

Along with the sound of fabric ripping, a pulling force tugs me backwards, and there’s empty space beneath my feet.

MC: Gavin--

In a moment of desperation, the word slips my mouth.

A gust of wind blows up the white muslin. Accompanied by a calm laugh, a strong pair of arms wrap around my waist. 

Gavin: [laughs] Don't worry, I won’t let you fall. 

Gavin catches me steadily. In the narrow and small world created by the soft, drifting muslin, he carries me and spins in half a circle. 

My torn coat is on the floor. Slightly embarrassed, I clasp a hand over the strap which has fallen off my shoulder.

Gavin sets me down. His gaze falls on my body lightly. Then, he hurriedly averts his line of sight. 

Gavin: [coughs] ...

The temperature in the room suddenly rises. Face flushed, I frantically search for the coat.

MC: ...where’s the coat?

Gavin: Over here.

He picks up the coat and hands it to me, his eyes averted to the side, his ears tinged a slight red. I take the coat, but discover that it’s basically unwearable since the snag is too serious.

In the next second, a warm piece of clothing is draped over me. The texture feels slightly hard, and I can even still feel the cold insignia.

MC: ?

I lift my head to see that Gavin has taken off his uniform, revealing his white shirt underneath.

Gavin: Put mine on first.

He pulls the uniform more snugly around my body. His warm fingertips accidentally brush my collarbone, causing me to shiver.

Face flushed, I lower my head. But I catch sight of a ripped button on Gavin’s shirt. 

MC: What happened? Are you hurt? Are there any other places? Let me see...

Anxious, I’m just about to pry apart his shirt to check if there are any injuries on his body. 

Gavin: ...

Gavin: I’m fine. 

Gavin grips my hand to stop me, his cheeks slightly red. 

The designer had left without us realising it, leaving the private space to us. 

The surroundings are delicate and tranquil. Only the person before me carries with him a windy and frosty aura, his eyes lowered as he watches me quietly. 

[Note] Interestingly, the word used to describe Gavin’s aura, 风霜 (“feng shuang”) also has a figurative meaning to describe someone who has experienced hardships in life :’)

MC: Let me have a look then. Only after I’ve verified it with my own eyes, I’ll believe that you’re not lying to me. 

I act in a fit of pique, angry and not understanding why he would still hide his injuries from me.

Gavin looks resigned. After a moment, his long and slender fingers touch his lapel, slowly removing one button.

His defined muscles come into view, revealing a lean figure. 

My hand gently brushes a wound on his shoulder blade which has already formed a scab, and my nose suddenly feels sour. 

Gavin: It’s just a small wound, and it has already healed.

His gaze follows my hands and rests on the wound, then he pauses. 

After being silent for a while, I lower my head, mildly aggrieved, and speak. 

MC: Did you rush over from afar? Actually, you could have taken your time to come back. You didn’t have to... be afraid that I’d worry, and be so anxious. 

I hold onto Gavin’s hand. He hasn’t removed his gloves, and the touch feels as cold as ice, bringing with it a chill.

Gavin: It wasn’t far. 

He tries removing his gloves before holding me again. But I don’t release him, and I tighten my grip.

Gavin pauses. Then, his fingers curl slightly, encasing my hand in his. 

Gavin: The mission was completed earlier, so I came back. 

A smile dyes Gavin’s eyes. Then, he pinches my palm.

Gavin: Let’s not talk about these things first. The gift I prepared for you - want to know what it is?

Looking at the mildly expectant expression on his face, I can’t help but store away my sour emotions, and snort with laughter.  

MC: I do want to know. So could Officer Gavin tell me what it is?

Gavin: You’ll know soon. 

-

MC: I didn’t think there would be a small showroom at the back of the private studio...

After pushing open the door inside the studio, what enters my vision is a glass showroom. 

The outer side of the showroom is constructed using glass, allowing sunlight to stream in, illuminating bouquets of pink jasmine flowers that have been strung up.

Gavin: This is a small glass showroom originally used by the owner to allow customers to hold mock weddings. 

Gavin guides me to the centre of the showroom, brushing past the flower bouquets.

Gavin: But today, I’ve temporarily borrowed it. 

A gust of wind causes the fine gauze draped over the showcase in the middle to fall, revealing a pair of crystal shoes surrounded by flowers. 

The shoe now has a small gem embedded in the place which was scratched - brilliant, bright and sparkling. 

MC: ...this is? What is it doing here?!

Gavin: When I went to your house the other day, I saw that you placed them on the shoe cabinet. 

I’m a little dumbfounded. 

MC: I thought I hid it in the box...

Gavin can’t help but laugh. 

Gavin: Mm, you did hide it in the box. But your reaction was too obvious. In the span of a meal, you glanced at that area around ten times. So before I left, I took a look. 

This causes me to feel perplexed. 

MC: So you were the one who secretly took the shoes away. I thought I lost them, and was depressed for so long. I also thought a thief stole them, and even changed the lock.

I mumble softly, but my eyes sneakily linger on that pair of fully restored crystal shoes. 

The unease from the scratched souvenir vanishes bit by bit, turning into a sweetened state of mind. 

Gavin: I searched for many places, but only this shop’s owner said he could use precious stones to try restoring the damaged area. 

Gavin: The date of the completed restoration could have been earlier, but I wanted to give them to you personally. 

Gavin: Which is why I asked the shop to give you call today. 

Gavin: [coughs] Even though it looks different from how it was before...

I interrupt him softly. 

MC: But I like it very much. 

Gavin stops, looking at me seriously with lowered eyes. 

Gavin: I did this because I didn’t want you to be unhappy over the damaged crystal shoes. 

Gavin: As long as you like it, that’s all that matters. 

His words land on my heart, rippling across it. 

Slightly flushed, my peripheral vision rests on the gem, which is reflecting specks of light. 

MC: Oh yes, what’s with this gem? 

Gavin: While I was on a mission, I passed by a shop and saw this gem through the window.

Gavin releases an unnatural cough.

Gavin: At that time, I was about to return to help you with the amusement park wedding photoshoot. I thought it would be of use, so I bought it. 

Gavin: But after that, I didn’t have a chance to give it to you.

He seems to think about something, and laughs lightly. 

Gavin: I kept thinking about when would be an appropriate time to give it to you. 

Gavin: It just so happened that the shape of the gem needed by the owner tallied with this. 

Gavin: So it was used. 

He fixes his eyes on me, affectionate and gentle. 

Sunlight parts the layers of clouds, casting a warm shade. It’s as though I can clearly hear the sound of my own heart beating. 

The sound gradually grows louder, becoming more urgent, wanting to burrow its way out of my chest and tell the person in front of me how I feel right now. 

MC: Although what I’m about to say may come across as being overly polite to you, I still have to say it. 

MC: Gavin, thank you.

Thank you for silently watching over my mood. Thank you for always returning to my side no matter where you go.

The white muslin drifts to and fro. My heart stirs, and I gently touch the muslin in front of me. Sunlight streams in.

My fingertips brush the soft white muslin, tracing the word “Gavin” on it. 

I turn my head to the side, blinking at Gavin a little playfully.

MC: This word - apart from it being your name, it also has another meaning.

 MC: It’s “courage”.

Gavin’s eyes pause on my face, as though he’s slightly shocked. But it quickly morphs into a smile which harbours starlight.

His smile leaves me in a daze. I turn back, pretending to be unaffected as I begin speaking softly. 

MC: Gavin, you are my courage. 

MC: You are the courage I have when I face life’s large and small twists and turns. 

MC: Next time, I’ll become a person who is stronger in heart, and won’t be dejected over such a trivial matter. 

MC: I’ll also work hard to become your courage and strength - to protect you from harm each time you go on missions. 

MC: Or... to sustain fewer injuries. 

I wave a fist towards Gavin as a display of my determination. The sunlight sifting in through the muslin is like a gentle filter, descending on Gavin slowly.

Having to part from each other and having gloomy moods are inevitable. But there’s one person who will ultimately make his way over to me, smoothening out all the anguish, leaving only happiness behind.

He will cross the mountains and rivers, walk across the clouds and the moon, to meet me at the brink of dawn. 

Gavin: [laughs] I got it. 

He turns his head, mimicking my earlier actions, lifting his hand to trace something on the white muslin.

MC: This is...

I try to decipher what he wrote, but can’t tell what it is. Confused, I look at Gavin. 

He puts his hand down, lifting his eyes to stare at me quietly. 

Gavin: Protecting each other. 

His voice is loud and clear, reminiscent of a galloping breeze in autumn, crashing into my heart. 

Gavin: You are already my strength. 

Gavin: So I will keep protecting you, and everything you like. 

The numerous times of parting, the numerous mornings and evenings spent alone, now leave a sweet aftertaste.

MC: Gavin, I’m really happy now. 

MC: So happy that I feel as though the entire world is before me at this moment, and within reach. 

Seeing my smile, Gavin lifts the white muslin between us, reaching out to bring me into his arms.

The coat draped over my shoulders slides off. The white muslin is akin to a gentle mist, gracefully drifting mid-air, then falling onto the both of us. 

Gavin holds my hand, encircling me in his arms. 

MC: Gavin...

The close and warm contact causes my face to heat up. I can’t help but call his name. 

But he isn’t in a hurry to respond. Instead, he lifts a hand, taking a strand of my hair into his palm, his gaze lingering on my face. 

Gavin: Now, I’m the only person in your entire world. 

The delicate fragrance of pink jasmine slowly permeates the air. The temperature from our laced fingers is scalding. I tilt my head upwards, giving Gavin’s chin a careful peck.

MC: In that case, could I bribe my entire world to let me have this moment for a while longer?

In the next second, I feel warmth around my waist, and Gavin wraps me in his arms tightly. 

He lowers his head slightly, his fringe brushing my eyelashes. I can feel his steady, composed breaths. 

Gavin: No matter how long it is, you can.

-

Phone call: here

-

🍒 Cheri’s elegant thoughts 🍒

HE PURCHASED A RING OKAY

NO ONE JUST BUYS A RANDOM GEMSTONE

HE HAD A RING ALL THIS TIME

AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH

[thiswasinevitableid]

54. I’m not sure what you think I said, but you start calling me an asshole and whip a ruler at me and somehow, we both end up in detention

Indruck, sfw, please?

Here you go! Content note: spiders appear at one point.

I based some of this AU--namely the concept of the Crucible and how magic is channeled--on the Carry On series by Rainbow Rowell. And Duck is trans in this, because any good wizarding school is inclusive.

After three years at Amnesty Academy, Duck is used to the objects being magically propelled through the air. But a ruler zipping through the air and smacking the back of his head is a new, unpleasant experience.

He tracks it to two chairs to his left, the new third year with the silver hair. He hasn’t even been here a day, what the fuck the is his problem?

“Hey, what the hell man?”

“You know very well what.”

“Uh, no I don’t, and I don’t appreciate bein hit with a fuckin ruler!”

“The maybe think before you insult someone next time!”

“I didn’t fuckin insult you! I don’t even know your name!”

“Ahem.” Ned, their Charms professor, looks down at them reproachfully, “gentlemen, while I know the review of Zone of Truth is rather dull, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t entertain yourselves with mindless conflict.”

“Sorry, Ned.” Duck mumbles, sending his pencil shooting below desk level to whack the other guy in the leg at the exact same moment he whips his pen at Duck’s hand.

“OW!”

Ned sighs, “I hate to do this, but-”

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

“Detention! Lovely, my first day here and I’m in trouble. Thank you so much, Duck Newton, for landing us here.”

“You started it!” He growls as they take their seats. God, he hopes this isn’t one of Woodbridge’s days.

“Huh, only two.” Mama wipes her boots on the mat, closes the door behind her, “Afternoon, Duck. And…”

“Indrid.” Says his nemesis, “It is nice to meet you Professor C-” he cocks his head, “you really prefer I call you ‘Mama?’”

“Yep. Never could get behind that more formal stuff. Let some of the first years call me ‘Ms. Mama’ if they really need to feel like they’re showin some deference.”

Mama is deputy Headmistress of Amnesty. The only reason she’s not fully in charge is that she’s not a witch and some families object to that. So The Quell technically runs the school while Mama does most of the actual day to day work. She also teaches a course of non-magic practical skills because, “some things you can’t magic your way out of. Like taxes.”

Duck loves her class and, while he doesn’t understand why someone would opt into this weirdness, he admires the guts it takes as a fifteen year old human to walk into a wizarding school and declare that there was plenty you could learn there even though you couldn’t so much as send a spark from your fingers.

As he and Indrid watch the clock tick down, Mama pulls a bag from her satchel. The contents are cookies, which she offers to each of them.

“Barclay tryin’ out new recipes?”

“Course he is. Kid is gonna be the best damn kitchen witch in the country by the time he graduates. Guess he’s plannin to spend the summer drivin around and learnin the food magic of different regions.” She smiles, “bet you’ll never guess who’s goin’ with him.”

“Joe?”

“Bingo. Apparently he wants to study niche cultural magic.”

Duck’s pretty sure there’s another motive; sharing a van bed with Barclay. It sounds fun, roving the country, discovering new places with someone handsome by your side.

All that’s by his side is a glower hiding behind red glasses.

“Mama? I, ah, would it be possible for me to leave five minutes early? I’m supposed to get my pairing from the Crucible tonight.”

The older woman looks between the two of them, “Better tell me how you landed here first. Ned just said it was an argument.”

“He threw a ruler at me outta nowhere.”

“It was not, you know what you said.”

“The last thing I said before you hit me was ‘“nah, man’ when Billy offered me a pizza roll from his lunch.”

Indrid goes still, “Oh. I, ah, I misheard you. I thought you said 'mothman.' I apologize. I ought to have given you the benefit of the doubt.”

He seems so suddenly downtrodden that Duck shrugs, “Yeah, you should have. But it ain’t the worst thing that’s happened to me here. Not by a long shot.”

“No kiddin” Mama leans back on the desk, “Two of you can go at five til.”

His evening turns uneventful after that; dinner, hanging out with Juno and Aubrey, half doing homework and half fucking around on his phone in his room (the agreement between the school and the government is that a long as the students don’t post vidoes of themselves doing sick stunts with magic, the government will ignore any explosions and/monsters in the vicinity of the school).

He’s never had a roommate; when the Crucible spat out his name in fire on his first day, there was no other name with it. Almost everyone else rooms in pairs or trios. So his belongings are strewn about the tiny cabin that makes up his home away from home. Which is why, when the door creaks open at ten p.m, he sits up and prepares to fire off a spell.

Indrid stands in the doorway, one bag over his shoulder and another in his hand. He looks tired.

“Hello, Duck. Ah, I guess that one is my bed, then.”

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

The class schedules for Amnesty are generated by the heart of the school itself. Indrid isn’t entirely sure what that means, but the heart must not be terribly creative. It stuck him in divination class. He’s been seeing the future since he was five, managing it with his drawings since he was eight. Even the professor has no idea what to do with him, since the images come in like a garbled T.V signal when he uses a crystal ball and the cup shattered when he tried to read tea leaves.

At least Barclay gave him a conciliatory caramel while they swept up the shards. It made him feel a bit better, though whether that’s due to enchantment or Barclay being exceedingly good at cooking is hard to say.

And now he has to go to “Magical Weaponry.” Magical Defense he understands; there are still lots of malicious forces out there, or even just everyday evils that it’s good to be able to ward against. Plus, Vincent is a good professor, enthusiastic and understanding.

Professor Minerva is just as enthusiastic but twice as loud. This is their first day in the actual gym, as opposed to at a blackboard, and his visions suggest it’s going to go poorly for him. As it should; he’s not a fighter, he’s a disaster.

At Amnesty, magic is channeled through objects. Most people use wands or their hands but some, like Aubrey, use jewelry (a necklace from her mother) or another accessory.

Duck Newton uses a sword. Or he’s trying to. The sword seems to be winning.

“Exert your will on him, Duck Newton, he answers to you!”

“I answeeer to only the capable.”

“Shut up, Beacon.” Duck adjusts his grasp, but nothing happens until he drops the sword and sends a spell through his fingers. The target explodes. Indrid suddenly feels a bit better about his own probable performance.

Duck notices him, indicates the practice area next to him is clear. While they started off poorly, his roommate is doing his best to demonstrate southern hospitality. He invites Indrid to eat with him, helps him when his visions offer no help in navigating the grounds, and even lent him a blue and green shirt (Amnesty's colors) for his first Spirit Day. Duck is the best thing to happen to him in his first month here.

By the time class is over, they have six broken targets, a shredded mat, and a knife that is now a very confused frog between them. They manage to laugh about it, even as Duck scoops up the amphibian and tucks him into his shirt pocket.

It’s then that Indrid realizes he has a crush.

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

“You comin to the game tonight?” Juno measures her sapling.

“Assumin nothin comes up and nobody’s tryin to kill me, you know I’ll be there.” He loves cheering Juno on during her soccer games (hey, not everything has to be magic based, even at a wizarding school).

“Drat.”

The hissed frustration draws his attention to the far end of the work table. Indrid is trying to coax his Venus Flytraps to perk up, but they remain brown and limp.

“Need some help?”

“Please, as you clearly know what you’re doing.” Indrid tilts his head towards the sapling pine tree Duck is working on. If he does his growing spells right, he’ll be able to take it home as a Christmas Tree during winter break.

“You tend to picture words or, uh,pictures when you do your spells?”

“Images work best. The trouble is that the futures sometimes make it difficult for me to picture a spell clearly.”

“What if I try describing how I’d see it and you picture what I say?”

“It’s worth a try.” Indrid closes his eyes.

“Okay. Think about the roots drawin water up from the soil, about the traps absorbin nutrients from prey. That brown is goin green as they do, they’re stems are growin stronger…” he grins as the plant turns bright green, it’s mouths open, “hey, ‘Drid, look”

“Oh!” Indrid flaps his hands, “it worked! Now I can keep them healthy and big andohno, nono not again.”

The table cracks and collapses as the plant turns gigantic, blocking out the light from the greenhouse roof.

“Holy fuck, that’s great!”

“Language, sport, but I agree.” Thacker, the head of the magical Horticulture classes, whistles as he looks the plant up and down, “this is mighty impressive Indrid. Wonder if we could use it on some pumpkins come fall…”

“I don’t recommend it, unless you want them to chase people.” Indrid points to one of the heads, which is swaying in the air and lowering closer to him. It snaps and he leaps back, falling to a pile of potting soil. Thacker raises his walking stick and the flytrap returns to its proper size.

Duck helps Indrid up, but his friend stays quiet through the end of class and on the walk back to their room.

“You know it ain’t anythin to be ashamed of, right?” Duck flips on the light, “we all fuck up spells now and then. Hell, Aubrey is on track to be the best spellcaster this school’s ever seen and she still has trouble.”

“But mine go haywire constantly” Indrid flops, dejected, onto his bed, “forget mastering my powers, I’ll be lucky if I graduate able to keep them in check. If I graduate at all.” His hand searches the bed blindly; Duck sets the weighted, plush bat into so Indrid can set it on his chest.

“What do you mean?”

“I’ve never lasted more than a year at a magical school. Or a non-magical one. I started at Mt Vernon when I was fifteen. Tried Deep Hollow and Shasta the year after that. I’m powerful but I can’t seem to channel it well, and three different schools decided I was more trouble than I was worth.”

“Bullshit.” Duck rests a hand on Indrid’s knee, “you’re strugglin with somethin; that means you need more help, not less. And if anyone gets it into their heads to kick you outta Amnesty, I’ll raise a goddamn ruckus.”

Indrid chuckles, quiet and disbelieving.

“I’m serious. You know Aubrey and them would side with me, and Joe knows school policy well enough he could probably find a reason why them tryin to get rid of you was against the rule.”

“Thank you.” Indrid’s smile is a rare flower, fragile and stunning.

“You want one of those calm-down caramels Barclay made?”

“Please.”

Duck grabs the box from the cabinet of their little kitchenette, then snags a Coke and a pineapple soda from the fridge. Indrid is no longer horizontal, is instead sitting with his back to the wall so Duck has space to join him.

Under the fizz of fresh bubbles, his friend murmurs, ‘“Have people really tried to kill you?”

“Yep. Someone sent an assassin after me my first year, and there was a Dire wolf on the grounds last winter that was clearly locked on to my scent. Perk of bein a Chosen One.” He grumbles as he swigs his drink.

“...Who on earth sends an assassin after a fifteen year old?”

“Right?! Fuck if I know, they never got any information out of the guy. Fuckin prophecy I swear, I didn’t even want these powers, let alone to be some kind of hero.”

“I sympathize.” Indrid rests his head on Duck’s shoulder, “there are prophecies around my birth as well.”

Duck clunks their bottles together, “To bein’ fucked over by stuff we can’t control.”

Indrid drains his soda, then perks up, “Oh! Oh dear, you should go if you want to be there for Juno’s match.”

“Come with me?” Duck can’t get the image of the two of them sharing a giant pretzel while smushed thigh to thigh on the bleachers out of his head.

His friend grins, “Of course.”

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

Duck hoped, after his not-great time in middle school, that a magic academy would be asshole free. But no, there are assholes everywhere, and these ones have even more tools for tormenting their targets. He’s never been one, nor have any of his friends. The one time someone tried to bully Barclay, Dani sicked three spectral hummingbirds on them until they apologized.

Indrid, odd and new, is an easy target, though he seems to hold his own just fine (and his proximity to the most powerful witch in school does scare off many potential antagonists). But three guys in their Magical Defense class have zeroed in on him.

They’re standing in line to practice against an evil eye when Indrid’s glasses, the ones he doesn’t take off even when he sleeps, hit the floor by Duck’s feet. Duck scrambles to grab them before they get stepped on, wondering why everyone is making such a fuss. Then he turns and backs up in alarm.

An eight foot tall moth creature is where Indrid should be, red eyes wide and claws clicking together anxious.

“Who let that thing in here?” Someone yells from behind him.

Indrid’s antenna flatten.

“Fuck, wasn’t expecting him to be that big a freak” one of the bullies scoffs.

Black wings twitch.

“Newton, give him the glasses back so we don’t have to look at him!”

Indrid trills, upset, and leaps into the air at the same moment Aubrey yells, “that’s enough” and Vincent shouts a reminder about no flames in enclosed spaces and also detention for you three. Duck is to busy climbing out the window Indrid flew through to pick up the details.

One two-story fall later, he’s chasing a dark shape into the Monongahela forest. While the parts of the woods near his hometown of Kepler are non-enchanted, this chunk is magic down to the moss (he plans to write his final year project on how those halves of forest mesh on an ecological level). One of the worst aspects of the enchanted portions is their tendency to re-shape around travelers. His usual way around this is to have an unwavering sense of where he’s going and pretend the woods are giving him an unchanging path to get there. But that trick does fuck-all when he doesn’t know his destination.

After two hours of searching he’s no closer to finding Indrid, it’s getting dark, and he’s debating heading back to the school for help. He hasn’t been this deep in the woods since he fled the Dire Wolf, and he knows the deeper you go into the trees, the wilder the magic becomes. Bad news for him, even worse for his friend who's out there somewhere, upset and alone.

Eight gigantic eyes glitter at him from the dirt, and he quickly rearranges who has it worse right now.

Throwing a burst of light into the trapdoor spiders eyes buys him enough time to bolt to a tree and climb. As soon as it crawls free of its burrow he freezes; if he’s remembering right, they use vibrations to locate prey.

Fuck, that thing is the size of a VW Beatle. Why is that even a thing? No spider needs to be this big!

In spite of his stillness, it spies him and sets its forelimbs on the tree-trunk. There’s nothing else for it; he draws Beacon, pictures the spider shrinking, and casts his spell.

A soft crunch of leaves signals it hitting the ground, now an unremarkable size for an arachnid. Just as he steps down a branch, a second trap door opens and an enraged spider bursts out, looking for it’s friend. When it can’t find it, it turns and snaps its mandibles at Duck. This time, Beacon does nothing, no matter how Duck commands and curses as his eight-legged doom gets closer.

A crackle of electricity and then this spider disappears as well. On the other side of the trunk, red eyes regard him with worry, “are you hurt?”

“Nah, all in one piece thanks to you.” He holds out his hand, “you wanna head back?”

“Yes, please.” Indrid flaps to the ground, Duck following him on foot and then turning them towards campus, “you did not need to come look for me.”

“Course I did, not gonna let my friend get swallowed up by the forest. Oh, here” he holds out the red glasses, “you want these back?”

“Not just yet. That is, if this form is not too alarming to you.”

Duck takes in the glossy feathers, the charming ruff, the way the face is still obviously Indrid yet excitingly new, “I’m good.”

Light flickers from black claws, stars and flowers spinning out with ease, “It’s so much easier when I’m like this. I never foresaw my disguise charm being an issue, but the older I’ve gotten the more it seems to influence my ability to control my spells. But, well, you saw how people reacted. Even you were startled.”

“In my defense, I thought you’d been eaten by, well, you.” Duck casts the same spell, vines of light chasing the red flowers, “I’m still sorry, though. You ain’t horrible like this, ‘Drid; you’re fuckin stunnin. Never seen anyone as incredible as you.”

Indrid stops, looking down at him, “Do you truly mean that?”

Duck rises on his toes, pecking his cheek, “Yeah, I do.”

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

The Halloween Formal is the most elaborate event at Amnesty. Indrid feels that if there’s any day he’s within his rights to be in his true form, it’s when everyone else is dressed as monsters.

He doesn’t have a date. He thought Duck was in the same predicament. Then his friend left before he was half-done grooming his feathers, saying he needed to get flowers for his hot date.

Ah well. At least Indrid will get to see him there and spend some time with his friends.

He checks his reflection in the gleaming black walls, orange and purple lights glowing and jack’o lanterns floating above his head. He adjusts his robes, the nice red ones his father sent him, and prepares to enter the ballroom.

“Hold up.”

When he turns, Duck is standing there in his black dress shirt and green tie, looking for all the world like he’s alone.

“You got one more thing to put on” He holds out a bracelet of flowers, sized to slip perfectly over Indrid’s hand. There are matching flowers pinned to one side of Duck’s hair.

“Oh. Oh my. You really-”

Duck uses a small spell to bend Indrid into a kiss; it’s a bit messy, since their mouths aren’t meant to fit together, but Indrid would not trade it for all the magic in the world.

“Yeah, ‘Drid, I really do.” With that, Duck offers his elbow and they walk arm in arm into the great hall.

[yunhowhoitiss]

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𝐬𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐲𝐮𝐧𝐡𝐨 𝐱 𝐛𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐚!𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝐟𝐞𝐦)

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1.5k+

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, fantasy au (?), slow burn, angst if you squint, ft co-worker jongho :)

𝐬𝐲𝐧𝐨𝐩𝐬𝐢𝐬: You’re finally starting to make ends meet when you start working at your school’s local café, but the world is so full of surprises.

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: reader panics a bit(?)

𝐚/𝐧: I came up with this at 4am a couple days ago so it’s not my proudest, but I felt bad just letting it sit in my drafts so here you go :) enjoy!

masterlist

The gentle smell of freshly baked pastries, accompanied by the stronger aroma of ground coffee beans, wafted through the comfy café. There was a constant chatter as customers scattered around the joint whilst waiting, disguising the soft hum coming from behind the coffee machine. Your face was out of sight, except your hair peeked out above the espresso machine where you were pouring a latté, entertaining yourself by decorating a small heart in the foam. A smile tugged at the corners of your lips as your eyes turned to soft crescents when soft wisps of your hair had fallen out of your bun and across the sides of your forehead. The steam floating from the cup caressed your hands as you picked up the mug along with an assortment of macaroons. 

“Order for Julie: four macaroons, a chai latté, and an espresso affogato, extra dry!” You announced through the coffee shop, turning a few heads. 

You made your way back to the station to continue other orders but stopped as you noticed something missing; you had run out of cinnamon to top off drinks. Your coworker ought to know where another carton would be, so you turned towards the kitchen to find him wrist-deep in bread dough. 

“Jongho, where are the extra containers of cinnamon again?”

“Oh, those are in the grey cabinet below the pastry display,” he smiled back, all the while kneading the dough. 

Flashing him an ‘ok’ sign, you headed back to the front of the shop. You hadn’t been working at the Crescent Café very long, but you happened to be a pretty fast learner, according to Jongho; you could make latte art before other trainees could even make a latte. Quickly getting back to work, you served a customer until something caught you eye whilst jotting down an order on your notepad; had the writing been on your wrist all day? It must just be something I wrote down earlier, you thought.

As the sun made its way towards the horizon, you returned to the comfort of your small apartment to freshen up, eat dinner, and momentarily forget your academic responsibilities— homework, ugh-- before heading to school again the next day. You entered you apartment with a relived sigh and threw your keys onto a nearby dresser, mumbling "I'm home" to nobody in particular. Too lazy to go to your room, you simply undressed as you walked towards the bathroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind you. Note to self: clean that up later. 

The moment you stepped into the shower, your shoulders loosened as the hot water washed away your tension. The writing on your wrist caught your eye again. Scrutinizing the messy handwriting, you saw what seemed to be a shopping list. 

“Eggs, lucky charms, and aftershave,” you read aloud. 

Aftershave? I don’t use that. Could it be… you were lost thought, not noticing the warm steam filling the bathroom. You rubbed at your soapy skin frantically in an attempt to wash off the pen, to no avail. Lately, although rarely, you’d started to notice small bruises or random marks on your skin; you’d never seen writing, though. You briefly wondered if there was possibly another person causing this, but you only saw such things in movies or books... right? 

Your heart rate started to pick up, and a heavy sensation built up in your chest. It isn’t possible, it can’t be. The cramped space of your shower started to feel suffocating. Nearly slipping, you jumped out of the shower and dried yourself off. You got dressed in whatever shirt and sweats you found hanging around your bedroom. Was something wrong with you? Am I imagining things? I’m not going crazy, right?  Worrisome thoughts flooded your mind as you spiralled deeper into a panic. Calm down. Don’t skip to conclusions. You threw yourself onto the bed. In and out. It’s that simple, you consoled yourself. Slowly but surely, you felt your heart come to a rest. 

When you lifted your hand up above your head the writing was still there, unchanged. So you weren’t losing your mind. Could somebody else be the cause of this? Was someone else somehow writing on your skin? No, you felt stupid for even considering the thought; otherworldly things like that only happened in comics or movies. Nevertheless, it was the only possibility that made sense to you in the moment. You let your curiosity get the best of you, and paced towards the living room to grab a pen off the coffee table. On your right hand, you simply wrote "Hi," in hopes of eliciting some sort of response.

The following day proved to be a rather sunny, warm Monday, but you had to spend your time in a closed lecture hall. The cold-toned ceiling lights were much too bright for your liking, and the monotonous professor spouted information maybe only a handful of people were genuinely listening to. That morning, you had woken up to find the list on your wrist gone, leaving only your own message from the night before. You started to think you'd really had a hallucination of some sort. 

Half an hour into the lecture, you were already bored out of your mind and absentmindedly sketching intricate doodles on your notebook. I should just give up on biochemistry and become an artist, you mused to yourself. You remained focused on your art, while marks started to take shape on the back of your hand. Your soft eyes widened almost comically at the sight, and you shot a brief look to the people around you to make sure they hadn’t seen anything. Whipping your head back to your hand, you saw that the words stopped writing themselves, leaving a short message saying “Am I going nuts?” 

Wondering the same thing yourself, you jotted down a response below it: “I dunno, you tell me,” followed by a cheeky smiley face. If this really was real, you might as well make a good first impression. 

Weeks trickled into months as you made short exchanges with your newly discovered friend. Some nights you would write “good night” followed by a drawn heart, earning a sweet “sleep well” in return. You would frequently wake up to thoughtful words written on the palm of your hand, or you'd kindly ask your companion how they were doing when you had a quiet day at work. Even so, all you had learned about this person was their name, age, and that they were a student as well. Yunho was a twenty-one-year-old elementary education major with a minor in physiology-- he also worked as a dance teacher on weekends. You still didn’t know much about each other, so the messages never went further than greetings and simple conversations. 

Be that as it may, you liked it like that. Your relationship wasn’t complex; it felt comfortable and pure, and you didn’t want to change it.

Mellow spring afternoons at the café had always been your favourite. The wispy clouds in the sky were painted a buttery yellow by the slowly setting sun, and a steady stream of nearby students stopped by for coffee. Your new friend had sweetly noted "It's golden hour. Made me think of you," on your palm, leaving you in a bubbly mood. You had started your shift by drawing a heart on your wrist, hoping your secret companion would see it. 

You worked by the espresso machine as usual, humming to yourself as always. The bell rang, indicating that customers had arrived; it was a group of what seemed to be three guys and a girl. 

“We’ll be right with you!” you called. You turned towards the kitchen.  “Jongho, can you take their orders?” Silence. “Pretty please? I need to clean up my station.” you persisted. 

“Fine, yeah,” you heard your colleague grumble. 

As you tidied up behind the machine, you felt as though someone was watching you from the counter. You lifted your head curiously, meeting a pair of inquisitive doe eyes coloured a soft hazelnut brown. The warm eyes instantly turned into friendly half-moons as the boy smiled shyly upon being caught staring. You hurried back to cleaning up your station, hoping to hide the pink tint of your cheeks, but the red shade consuming your ears gave you away. 

Jongho handed you the cups for their orders and walked over to the pastry display. You got started on a hot chocolate and three iced americanos, getting back into your “barista brain,” as you liked to call it. After finishing the drinks, you called out "Three iced americanos, a hot chocolate, and two blueberry muffins!” 

You turned around to grab straws, and you overheard one of the guys say “I’ll grab ‘em, you guys can stay here.” You made your way back to the counter, looking up only to be met with the boy from earlier. Butterflies littered your stomach, fluttering up into your chest. “Oh, um, here are some straws,” you smiled gingerly.

“Thanks. Could I please get a sleeve as well?” he asked, “For my hot chocolate.”

“Of course!”

As you handed him the cardboard sleeve, his hands caught your eye. Not only were they the most beautiful hands you'd ever laid eyes on, but the boy had a heart drawn on the valley of skin between his left thumb and wrist, exactly where you had drawn one on your own hand just a while earlier. He seemed to recognize the message on your palm as well; a confused expression ghosted over his face. Gathering all your courage, you nodded towards his hand and did your best to form a coherent sentence. “That’s—”

“Your heart,” he interrupted, “Right?” 

You giggled softly in response, barely containing your excitement.

“Right,” you smiled down at your feet in an attempt to hide the bashful grin that pulled at your lips. A hand popped up in front of you.

“Nice to meet you, y/n. My name’s Yunho-- Oh, but you know that already, don’t you?” Yunho chuckled sheepishly. You looked up and slipped your hand into his, shaking it gently. His hands were warm, fingertips ever so soft.

“Nice to meet you too.”

[tantei-chan-4869]

Chapter 1: The Return of the Female High School Detective

"Hnnng..... Ahhhhh!"

Edogawa Conan screamed as her body felt like it was melting. The painful sensation was unbearable as her fist clinched tightly to her chest while she gasped for air. The girl was trying to wait for the antidote to work.

Outside, a small scientist and a knowledgeable professor waited anxiously for the high school detective to finally return to the way she once was before being shrunken into a 7-year-old first grader.

"Kudo-kun?" Haibara knocked on the bathroom door gently. "Are you alright?"

She leaned her ear against the door. No responses was made. The shrunken scientist was about to open the locked door with her spare key until she felt the professor's hand on her small shoulder. Haibara looked up and met with the professor's calm eyes.

"Give her some time." He said. "It'll take some time for the effects to work after all."

Haibara bit her lips. She hesitated a bit before letting go of the doorknob with a sigh. She can only hope for the best. Just as the two of them was about to go back to the living room until the bathroom door clicked open. They turned around to see a beautiful 17 year old girl with waist length straight hair stood before them with a grin. Her school uniform fit snugly around her hourglass figure as she looked herself up and down. At last, she spoke.

"Haibara..... It worked!"

Haibara was indifferent. She secretly breathed a sigh of relief that Shinichi is alright. But she still have to keep the high school detective at a close watch just in case she go back to the 7-year-old first grader again.

"It may look like it's working now. But you don't know if it's permanent after 3 days. I'll have to keep a close watch on you just in case the antidote lost its effectiveness. In those 3 days, make sure you keep watch as well. Let me know if anything felt different or felt off.... " The small scientist trailed off as she made notes on her clipboard. "You may go home for the day, but again, contact me or the hagasei when anything happens."

Suddenly, Haibara turned around and looked at Shinichi very seriously and pointed at her with the tip of her pen.

"Remember, let. Us. Know. If. Anything. Happens. Got it?"

The high school detective scratched the back of her head in embarrassment. "Hai, hai. Of course Haibara. Thanks again for the antidote. I'm just glad to be back again."

The said scientist didn't say anything. She just turned around and walked away as she mumbled to herself. The hagasei only gave Shinichi a kind smile. The detective shook her head. Well, first day back as Shinichi was here and she was not about to miss out on that.

The detective immediately rushed back to the Kudo manor. Subaru (aka Akai) had already moved out of there so the whole place belonged to Shinichi once again. As soon as she got back home, the first thing she did was to take a walk in the Beika park. It had been a while since she had taken a stroll so she decided to go take a breather.

The detective changed into a comfy white turtle neck sweater and a blue skirt before going running out of the door with a scarf and a long coat. She looked around the scenery before her. It was autumn and leaves were already turning red. The air smelled of pumpkin spice and cinnamon. The chirpy detective was so happy that soon she had bumped straight into someone without looking.

Shinichi stumbled backwards. Just as she closed her eyes and was expecting a close contact with the ground until she realized that she didn't fall. The detective peeked out and was soon fascinated by a pair of indigo eyes staring at her. For a minute, she was lost in those orbs.

"Uh, are you okay?" Came the voice of the owner of the indigo eyes. It was cheerful and full of life with a mix of flirtatiousness.

"Ah- I... I'm alright.." she looked away blushing, aware of the arm that was wrapped around her slim waist that broke her from the fall.

"Ah, where are my manners." Said the stranger as he let go of Shinichi. Then, with a wave of his slender fingers, a blue rose appeared before Shinichi's eyes.

"Boku wa Kuroba Kaito. Douzo yoroshiku! (My name is Kuroba Kaito, nice to meet you!)" Kaito said as he took a bow while offering the flower to Shinichi.

The girl blushed pink. "Watashi wa Kudo Shinichi. Tantei desu ne douzo yoroshiku." (I'm Kudo Shinichi, a detective. Nice to meet you too.)

"Tantei eh? So you're that famous-" before Kaito have a chance to finish his sentence, his mouth was immediately covered by a very stressed Shinichi.

"Shush! I'm trying to keep a low profile! Don't be so loud!" Shinichi hushed. " I can't really explain how or why. But please, don't spread the fact that I'm around. I'm supposed..... To be dead."

With that, Shinichi had a very serious expression. Kaito noticed it but decided to keep a poker face. "Ah, I see...." He trailed off. Whatever the reason it may be, it seems like his favorite critic can't tell him why she's been disappearing for some time and suddenly popped out like that. Something told him not to pry.

It's not that Kaito doesn't know where Shinichi had gone to or who she is. In fact, he remembered her clearly as that moment she fired a bullet at his direction at that fateful night a year back. Kaito recalled the adrenaline rush as he tried to make a rather embarrassing escape from the detective's sharp, piercing blue eyes. He couldn't stare into them. No matter how much more exquisite they are than the bluest sapphire. Kaito just couldn't. He was afraid that as soon as he make eye contact, the pair of truth-seeing eyes would drill a hole in his soul and shatter his pokerface of a mask.

"..... Earth to Kuroba-kun, daijoubu desu ka? (Are you okay?)" Shinichi waved her hand in front of Kaito's face with a concerned expression. "You haven't been speaking and you look exhausted-"

Indeed. There were quite some heavy bags under the magician's eyes as the night before he managed to pull another successful heist and pranking a certain blond detective who vowed to catch him while cursing loudly as he was left behind with temporary green hair dye. Kaito chuckled. "Oh nothing. Just feeling the fatigue of the night before. I had a huge exam that came up so I stayed up all night. It's nothing other than the highschooler trouble. Wouldn't you agree, Shin-chan?" He winked and smirked, flustering Shinichi in the process. "Also, please feel free to call me Kaito."

"D-don't call me Shin-chan! Sure we've just met but we're not that close to be calling each other by the nicknames!" Shinichi looked away, blushing and pouting in the same time."So please keep your distance, Kuroba-kun".

Kaito sighed. The high school detective is just as much of a tsundere and snappy as usual. But he's not the type to give up very easily. He only grinned back and got another blue rose out of nowhere. "A beautiful rose for a beautiful lad- achoo!" Kaito's sentence was interrupted by a rather loud sneeze. Shinichi gasped and bowed her head in apology.

"I'm so sorry for keeping you Kuroba-kun!" Shinichi gushed. "It's cold and yet I'm keeping you.... Do you want to.... Perhaps come over to my manor and warm up before going your way?"

Kaito was very much appreciative of the offer as he was only clothed in a dressy shirt and very thin suit pants. The nerve of the magic performance had left him feeling very hot and made him leave the rest of his top by the water fountain nearby. Kaito shuddered, the warmness had left him. "S-sure. Why not. I'd love to see what Tantei-chan's place looks like." He teased while packing up his stuff. In the blink of an eye, Kaito finished. It was so fast that even the detective herself was quite amazed of how fast he's actually managed it.

"Ready?" Kaito asked as he appeared beside Shinichi. Poor Shinichi, she was so baffled that she barely made out what she was saying before the the two was on their way back to the Kudo manor.

While they were walking, the two were both silent, each filled with their own thoughts. It was Kaito who broke the awkward moment.

"So Tantei-chan....." He began. "You've said that you are currently staying low in profile. What do you exactly mean by that? I mean, you were the most famous detective in Tokyo. There were almost no one that haven't heard of the name 'Kudo Shinichi'. So why staying low?"

The said detective froze in her tracks, forming a small battle in her head.

"Should I trust him? I just met him....." A voice ran in her head. But her instinct told her otherwise. After much battling and curious stares from the magician, she sighed and faced him.

"I'll tell you. But you have to promise me that you won't tell anyone else." She said gravely. "I don't usually tell anyone something like this, but because I trust you, I'll tell you."

Kaito only nodded silently, signalling Shinichi to go on. Taking a deep breath, Shinichi begin telling him her tales. Of how she was following the BO members, discovery their illegal trade, being discovered, shrunk and how her life was living as Conan. By the end of the story, Kaito started at her in shock. "Y-you're Meiantei-!? B-but how?"

Now, it was Shinichi's turn to gasp. "W-what did you just say-?" She immediately put up her guard up against Kaito as she took a step backwards. They were in a dark alleyway. No one ever passes this area often this late at night, and even if Shinichi was to scream, no one would be able to hear her. "Did you just call me 'Meitantei'-? Who are you, Kuroba Kaito." She asked again, as there is only one person who ever called her Meiantei. And he happened to be her worst rival and secret crush.

Hearing his whole name being announced and recovering from the shock that Shinichi is Conan, Kaito for a minute stood speechless as he was trying to process the information. Until Shinichi repeated her question again did he realize that he's messed up, big time.

"Shinichi-, I'm sorry.... I-....." Kaito stuttered. Shinichi only glared at him coldly with her azure blue eyes. "I repeat for the last time, don't lie to me. Who. Are. You.?" She narrowed her eyes to a slit as she crossed her arms. Kaito lowered his head. It was his fault that he might never get to confess to Shinichi of his feelings for her. But he had to be honest. So he sighed and looked into her eyes.

"You must've have guessed. Of course, for a brilliant detective like you, I have nowhere to hide. Yes. It is I, the Moonlight Phantom. Kaitou KID." Slowly, a smug begin to form on his face as he put his poker face on. "Looks like we'll have a lot to talk about tonight~" he said seductively as he slowly approached the unguarded detective. She slowly backed away, her heart beating wildly. She was fearful. What does he wanted do to her?

As his steps echoed closer, Shinichi shut her eyes in despair. "Help me..... someone. Anyone. Help me....."

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

Author's Note:

Cliffhanger! Yay! UwU. Anyways, if you're at this point of the story, you must've had patience to finish the entire chapter. Congratulations! I'm so honored that I'm so entertaining to the point that you're able to bear with me until the end of chapter 1. If you like it like this, I'll continue to write longer chapters for your satisfaction. Please bear with me as the updates may be coming slowly. But I hope you like this chapter! (Psst chapter 2 is on the way UwU)

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

hi, could you do a draco x muggleborn reader headcanon where he falls in love with her throughout the years in hogwarts and she slowly introduces him into muggle things like tv shows and phones and basically her and hermionie always make fun of him and ron for not understanding !! i love your work btw

oh my God this idea is ADORABLE!

Draco was snooty. God that boy had something to say about everyone. But you saw past that and he became this really sweet guy. You two became these best friends and Draco actually began to hang out with the trio. Course his father was not exactly a big fan of him spending part of the summer at the Weasleys but Narcissa said "Lucius, he's making friends. Be nice." So Lucius sucked it up.

Draco absolutely adored you though and constantly talked about you. He was kind of sad that you never spent the summers in the Wizarding world. You always spent it in the muggle world with Hermione. This year though you spent part of it with the Weasleys before heading back to Hogwarts for your third year. When you walked in Draco was so FUCKING EXCITED. You brought a lot of weird things for Arthur to look at. "what's this?" Arthur asked, holding up a discman and making Harry snort. "It's a cd player." You answered. "... What's a cd?" Ron asked. "....Uhm.... Well crap." You muttered. You showed them what it was and they were mesmerized, along with Draco. You spent most of your time there showing the group different muggle devices. You had a blast, you and Draco spending a ton a time together.

However with the time you two spent together the more in love you two were. The last night you were there you sat outside on the back steps with Draco. "This was the best summer." You chuckled. Draco smiled. "Hey can I ask you something?" He asked. "What's up?" You asked. "...Do you feel like something has changed between us?" He asked. "Oh so you noticed it too! I've been thinking this was just a me thing. If I didn't know any better I'd even say that I--" you stopped yourself and cleared your throat. "what were you saying?"he asked. "N-nothing!" You lied. Draco got closer to your face and you leaned back, quickly turning red. "What were you saying?" He asked, a small smirk coming onto his lips. He knew damn well what was going on. "Drac-Draco I..." You saw that smug look and you squinted. This little shit knew you liked him. So you decided to play around too. You pulled him forward and kissed his nose, now wiping the smug look off of his face and making him blush. But two could play at this game. He kissed your cheek, making you grumble. This fucker was not winning. You gripped his shirt, yanking him forward and kissed him. To be honest, you shocked yourself. He pulled away. "I am so sorry I just got aggravated and--" he kissed you. He actually kissed you.

Well that led to you two dating. He was so happy around you, always smiling with his arm around you. School finally was back so he was seeing you every day. "I don't get it. Why not use a fucking pencil?" You asked. "I don't get that either." Hermione agreed. "It does make math WAY harder." Harry admitted. "What... What's uhm.." Ron struggled to ask. "Yeah, me and Ron are lost, what's a pencil?" Draco asked. "....Baby... Please tell me you're joking. Like PLEASE tell me you jackasses know what a pencil is?" You asked. "No?" Draco admitted. You sighed and got up. "I'm about show you." You said before disappearing. You came back with an unopened pack of pencils. "So this is like a pen. But you can erase your mistakes." You said. "....So it's a pen." Ron said. "No." You said. "So... It's not made for writing?" Draco asked. "no it is!" Hermione corrected. "So.... It's... it's a pen!" Ron said. "NO."

That argument went on for way too long. But you started showing them more. Draco loved seeing you draw though. Sitting under a tree by a lake in his arms as you sketched out a landscape. He finally got the idea of a pencil after watching you btw. But the one thing both boys took interest in was the sports. "Wait so you guys don't even keep up with muggle sports?" Hermione asked. "No. I mean, most wizards keep to careers in the wizarding world." Draco said. "Okay okay. Next summer we're teaching you baseball." You said. "Base... Base what?" Ron asked. "Baseball! Or what about rugby?" Hermione suggested. "We're not trying to break our necks." Harry said. "True. Well there's also hockey." You shrugged. Then a lightbulb practically popped over you. "We can do that this winter!" Hermione said.

And so you did, asking your parents to lend you some skates for the group along with hockey equipment. "Alright. Hockey is like football." You said. "...American or--" "English." Hermione said. "Okay. So why are we on ice?" Ron asked. "Added challenge." You said skating. Draco had never skated before and you chuckled. "you expect us to actually move on this?" He asked. "Darling, people do this all the time!" You said. He slid forward and nearly fell but you grasped his arm.

After teaching them how to skate though you taught them how to play. And oh boy you all got really into it. You stood by as a ref, watching them play nearly dying of laughter as Ron completely failed to understand how to be a goalie. As time passed you started teaching them more and more. "Dad is hellbent on knowing what the purpose of a rubber duck is." Ron said. "...I think that's just to make bathing fun." You shrugged. "But why? It's bathing." Draco asked. "Muggles are particularly boring and find enjoyment in yellow plastic ducks." Hermione answered. "That and star wars." You laughed. "...Star... What?" Ron asked. ".....We have failed as their friends." Harry said. "But they're not even that good--" you and Harry have Hermione horrified looks. "....Okay we'll show them!" She said. So that summer Draco managed to convinced his parents to let him stay with you with Ron, Harry and Hermione. You opened the door and Draco rose a brow. "....What in the world?" He asked looking at the tv in the livingroom. "this is a tv. A blessing to humanity." You said. "Amen to that." Harry nodded. You all watched the star wars movies. "DARTH IS WHAT!?" Draco gaped. "HOW-- WHAT!?" "OH MY GOD HE'S ANAKIN!?" Ron gaped. You were honestly just watching the boys' reaction. Your parents were just looking at them like "Have they never... Seen this before?"

When the movie ended Draco's mouth was open and Ron swallowed. "That was--" "Wicked." Ron said making you laugh. "So... they don't have television in the wizarding world?" Your dad asked. "No sir." Harry said. "So... how do you pass the time?" Your mom asked. "Quidditch." All of you said in unison. You did show them baseball, Draco being REALLY good at it actually. "Babe, you run!" You said. "What--" "DRACO. RUN. OVER HERE." Hermione said. He sprinted to first and you snorted. They were absolutely baffled by a gameboy. "What the hell is a Pikachu?" Ron asked. "Think thunderbird but cuter." You said showing him the Pokemon. But by far their favorite thing... Was doctor who. ThEY ABSOLUTELY LOVED THIS SHOW. "THIS IS THE PEAK OF TV CHANGE MY MIND." Draco said after watching an episode. K9 was literally his favorite character. Ron just loved the Doctor as a whole. Your boyfriend... Christ he became such a fucking nerd.

But he was also very interested in cameras. You showed him some cameras like the polaroid and he loved taking pictures. Specifically of you. You loved it when he discovered more music for the discman. He was a really big fan of the Beatles actually. Harry listened to AC/DC After Sirius was like "kid you haven't lived till you heard back in black okay?" You loved to just sit in your room and read in draco's arms. There was a surprising lack of musical instruments in the wizarding world so when you admitted that you could play guitar that kind of blew their minds. See, the thing was is that they assumed that the instruments had to be enchanted in order to make music. Not that you had to be trained to play music. You played a couple of songs and Draco fell even harder for you. He loved listening to your voice, whether it was singing or talking he just loved listening to you. You actually taught Draco how to play and discovered he had a nice voice (Yes that is a subtle nod to Tom Felton who can actually sing.) Sometimes when you all would sleep in the living room Draco would sing you to sleep as you laid on his chest. Of course in the process you would lull everybody else to sleep. You spent years showing these too adorable goofballs muggle devices.

Later when you were seventeen came the ultimate Muggle lesson though. Cars. You decided to teach these two jackasses how to drive. You had gotten your license and decided to teach Draco how to drive. "So you're going to release your foot off the break--" "Oh God we're moving." Draco whined. "....Like not even one mile per hour. Now accelerate. Remember the gas?" You asked. "Yes.... Darling do we need to go faster than this!?" He asked. ".... Hermione can outwalk the car. Yes. Now accelerate!" You said. He tapped the gas and screamed when he moved making you snort. "Do you remember where the break is?" You asked. "I NEED A BREAK." he whined making you laugh. "Draco you're doing fine. Move forward." You said. "WE HAVE TO DO MORE!?" He asked.

Ron actually wasn't that bad. He wasn't as panicked driving the car and understood the process compared to Draco who ended up hyperventilating into a paper bag. "Babe... It wasn't even that bad." You said. "THEN YOU DRIVE BECAUSE THAT THING IS A DEATH TRAP!" he said. ".....Guys, wanna go to the mall!?" You asked with a slightly deranged look. So you drove and when you went past five miles Draco was flipping out. "WAHT THE FACK!?" Draco screamed. Everyone was dying of laughter after you all got out. "THIS IS MADDENING! WHY!? WHY DRIVE!? WHAT DO YOU GAIN!?" Draco asked. "if he's being this dramatic over a car wait till he finds out about a soft pretzel from the food court." Hermione said to you. The concept of a soft pretzel was hysterical to watch the two wizards try to grasp. "Yes, but pretzels aren't supposed to be soft." Ron said. "would you just eat the damn thing?" Hermione said. It was their favorite snack. "How dare they deprive us of this?" Draco asked. "fascist bastards." Ron muttered.

[lydiamoved]

“the mycologist” is a short story influenced by a 2021 news story of a man who accidentally sends himself to the hospital after injecting himself with shrooms. in this story we follow anne, a mycologist who becomes obsessed with the idea of injecting herself with the insides of fungi - an obsession that costs her her job, as well as some of her humanity. you can read it below - i hope you enjoy!

She knew the risks, as did everyone else. Hell, she could still hear them warning her against what she was planning to do, the way their faces contorted in some strange disgust that was foreign to her – and her line of study.  

Mycology – that’s what the glass paneling of her building said, proudly and in large bold letters. Mycology, and here she was, the head of the department, the dictionary of fungi for all the others who worked underneath her and couldn’t be bothered to remember certain names or attributes. Really, it moved her, the number of doctors and specialists she oversaw day-in and day-out, who paled instantly in comparison to her; everyone who watched her and clapped for her and worshipped her, all turned to cardboard cutouts whenever she opened her mouth, their own words made into a slurry of syllables until she left and allowed them to go back to their meaninglessness. But also, it annoyed her, how these soup-mouthed, so-called specialists, stared at her when she announced her plans. How they all, every last one of them!, managed to wipe the smile off her face with the way they gawked and waited for her punchline.  

“I’m going to inject myself with a fungus,” and? Must it always be followed by an and? It frustrated her, the need for clear-cut results and outcomes, and for once, for once, she would kill to experience a project with a bit of danger! When their reactions greeted her, she became even more determined, the days slowly bleeding into each other as she worked every hour she could, until every hour felt and looked the same. A month had passed, and she had not yet discovered that her eyesight had begun to dim, or that the cramp in her hand was permanent. Her working days, which was every day, were now accompanied by the grumbles of her coworkers, the way they said her name – Anne, in that sighed out way that meant pity. Their sympathy, she knew, was false and forced, a little lie they hoped she wouldn’t detect out of her own desperation.  

She saw through all of them, and they knew.

Naturally, after the condolences had gone around, she was asked into the Dean’s office for a short, friendly conversation. The request made her feel cold, and the walk to the office chilled her to the bone. She stared at pale yellow walls that fell into a mossy, moldy green. The chair she sat in scratched at her legs when she shifted, the fur feeling more like torture than comfort. The air felt stiff, the discomfort building in her arms and chest until she needed to scream. She felt her jaw unclench, forcefully, and her mouth pry itself open bit by bit, until her tongue went cold with a flood of fresh air, and –

“Anne?”

Reality flooded back to her, and she looked up. “That’s me,” and the woman in front of her nodded and gave her the go ahead, a shaky smile. Anne got up from her seat and went into the office, where another scratchy seat waited for her. This time, she didn’t sit; her nails slid into the wooden frame of the chair as if they belonged there, and she stood tense.

The Dean was an older woman, kind in her voice and kinder with her actions. She sat behind the desk that shielded her from acts of passion, but she welcomed any warm response, often initiating the hug or bundle of tissues. Today, she hoped, there would be reason to celebrate, and so she began with a smile.  

“You’re one of our top professors. I hope you know that.”  

She knew. She nodded.

“We don’t want to have to let you go,” and the Dean paused, taking a breath and looking down at her notes as if she forgot something. But, “But, you’re scaring some of the other professors.”

Anne’s chest tightened.

“I can’t begin to tell you how many reports we have, detailing the same behavior.”

Anne’s hands began to shake, her own words slow from her mouth.

The Dean continued, “if you resign, I’ll write you a recommendation letter to anywhere. I will make sure you get an outstanding position, I promise you –” and the rest of her words sounded like background noise. Anne’s ears flooded with static, her nails digging into the chair until they splintered instead of the wood. She heard very little afterwards: something about being transferred, the promise of being remembered, a very short you just can’t work here anymore, and all she could do was nod. The Dean waited a moment, and then stood from her seat behind her desk. “I hope you understand,” and when Anne nodded again, “we’ll be in touch, okay? All you need to do is secure another position and leave the rest to me.” A hand touched Anne’s shoulder, a little slow to deliver the comfort it was supposed to give, and then it was gone. Anne was shuffled out of the building, the door closing behind her, as quick as she had arrived.

 –––

The position she was promised came within a month or two of being asked to leave, and within this month Anne had found herself once again. This job wasn’t based around fungi – her old Dean had recommended something less science-based, for fear of Anne becoming knee-deep in her obsession once more, and so she had traded in her laboratory space for a cubicle, the goggles and lab coat for a nice suit and ballpoint pen, and she settled down once more for an occupation that made her fingers cramp and her mind shrink with disinterest. But the obsession never left her mind; it left a stain between her brain and her mouth, forcing itself between every other interest and her work. She found herself sketching down her plans, her desktop now full of searches of the easiest growing mushrooms, of the fastest growing, the slowest, and so forth. Orders were made, buttons clicked, and boxes shipped to where she lived, and her obsession slowly came into fruition. Her home was now a laboratory in its own right, a little makeshift in design, but it worked all the same: in one corner, a long table held six different bottles of various lengths, each filled with some strangely colored liquids; near her door, the lab coat she threw on whenever she got home, waited patiently for her arms to run through its sleeves; on the kitchen stove and counters, where food should have been, were boxes of that were labeled “FRAGILE” on their sides.  

Anne got home from work a little later than she had wanted and got to work immediately. First, she was to pick which fungi she would use. Lion’s mane was too loose and willow-like, it would be irritating to touch, she thought. Mealy tooth, Hydnellum ferrugineum, was too ugly for her to even consider. Slowly, she went through a list, Amanita franchetii, Calocera cornea, until she finally found the one she wished to take and inject. A beautiful thing, more beautiful than the others she had liked, Hydnellum peckii, Devil’s Tooth, with droplets that exuded from its pink and fertile undersurface. Not poisonous, but not exactly edible, it was perfect – something safe, something that won’t kill her, something that would change her body, but leave her virtually unharmed and unscathed. The other fungi were unpacked and planted in their own respective pots, and the Devil’s Tooth was left in its packaging, where it would wait until its time had come to be poked and prodded.

Second came the experiment itself. Her hypothesis was written out, I predict that when injected with fungi, Hydnellum peckii, I will gain some attributes of this fungi, and now all Anne needed to do was prove herself right. She grabbed a tourniquet from her table, wrapping it around her arm until a vein was visible. Then came the sterilization of her skin, a little gauze drenched in rubbing alcohol, then her skin was made shiny with the new cold dampness. A syringe, fresh and sterile, was brandished against one of the fungi's droplets, and she pulled the handle towards her. Red, strawberry-blood liquid filled the syringe almost immediately, and she smiled to herself, a mutter of finally on her tongue. Finally, finally, finally, the needle was steadily pushed against her skin, into the vein – Anne winced, a little bit of ache worked through – and the contents were emptied into her bloodstream.

Immediately, there was calm. And immediately, Anne bent forwards over her table, the empty syringe dropping to the floor and her hands slamming on the wood. Pain coursed through her body, uncomfortable, and yet it felt as if it belonged there, and then settled. Her mouth was open, as if waiting for a yell or scream to leave, but it never came. Slowly, she straightened out, and began to clean up.

–––

Three days had passed since her experiment, and disappointment was beginning to set in. There had been no results, or anything visible, so to say, from the fungi, except for a bit of nausea that came and went. Anne had gone to work, the same as any other day, and returned home to check her face, her arms and legs, for any sign of change, and then - same as always: nothing new to log. Quickly, she became frustrated. She considered giving up her profession altogether and committing herself to her new mundanity. She thought heavily about throwing away her syringes and beakers, her notebooks and experiment notes, and for once in her career, she felt uneasy. This failure, if she were quick to call it that, felt wrong. Anne checked her notes. She checked her measurements and rechecked after that. Everything was correct, everything was done in the right order, with nothing left behind or overdone, so why was there no change?

 A week had passed since her experiment, a week of mundane living. Nothing but a few aches here and there plagued Anne, and nothing was written down as interesting or special. However, on the beginning of the new week, the normalcy broke. It started faint and almost as nothing, with a bit of red pus oozing from her neck in the shape of a burst pimple. Immediately she was excited for this - something new, something fresh! It was underneath her jaw, the red river that flowed from her skin and stained almost everything she touch, and proved itself to be more of a nuisance than anything. Then the aches and pains started again, this time a bit stronger than before. Soon, she was unable to stand for longer than a few moments without being attacked in her side by a sharp jolt. Within the week, the red oozing spot grew larger, and the pains more frequent, often knocking Anne off her feet and sending her to lay in her bed, where she felt most comfortable and relaxed. Beneath her sheets was warm and soft, the perfect place to house her body just in case any other effects decided to come when she least expected them. Her occupation was forgotten, her mind taken up with how her body finally reacted to the fungi, how her hands shook when she attempted to write in her journal, how her eyes watered when she managed to stand for a mere few moments. Despite these changes, and despite the pain she felt, Anne enjoyed every moment of it. She reveled in the fact that she, herself, had done something deemed impossible and – more importantly – proven her old coworkers wrong. Now, Anne was correct in her experiment. She was correct, and she knew herself to be better than those who shamed her.

After another week, these effects had stopped. The oozing went away overnight, as if it had never happened, and the pains had subsided. She was expected to be at work once more, a duty neglected over the last few days in favor of her own experiments and thoughts. Returning was a dreadful deed, unwanted and frankly unneeded, but she did it anyways. She could barely focus to the words of anyone, to her customers who called or the coworkers who spoke to her or in her general direction. Curiosity had overtaken her, and slight disappointment had replaced the excitement she had felt once again. Why had the fungi’s effects only lasted for a week? She thought, both to herself and to any coworker who would allow her to tell them of the events. Why did they not continue? Why did they stop so suddenly? These questions puzzled her and even troubled her, making Anne scratch her head with a fierceness. Then, a curiosity overtook her: what if she injected herself with too little of the substance? What if she needed more, in order to experience full, more robust effects? Then another thought overtook her: what if she mixed the fungi with another, different specimen? What would happen then? Would she remain as human as she was now, or would she transform entirely into some pain-filled, oozing mess?  

Once work had ended, once Anne had reached home, the curiosity took hold of her once more. It seeped into her bones and sat in her skull like some old friend, banging against her brain - the interest, the intrigue, made her dizzy until she returned to the boxes of fungi, returned to the putrid and smelly things, and grabbed the first one that caught her eye: Hygrophorus eburneus, Cowboy’s Handkerchief. Because of the other fungi packed along with it, this one smelled putrid, the scent filling Anne’s nose and making her cheeks bulge. She wretched and gagged as she removed it from the box, the waxy head brushing against her hands and adding more to the discomfort she already felt. But here she was, consumed with curiosity, with want, and so she pushed through it. Again, she remade her laboratory in her home. Again, she sterilized a syringe and needle, and again she wrapped her arm with tourniquet and carefully, slowly, watched as the syringe inhaled the waxy substance inside the fungi. Then, she watched as the needle-syringe expelled the substance into her ready vein. This time, the effects hit quicker than the first. In an instant, a burning sensation filled her arm, and the wound where the needle penetrated spewed some red-white goo. Anne bent over once more, a pain filling her abdomen and then slowly crawling through her entire body; she opened her mouth and spittle dripped from the side of her lips. She screamed, silently, then lowered her body to the floor, and then, something strange happened - she laughed.

Anne laughed, gentle at first, then a bit louder as she gripped her stomach. Her nails dug into her skin, adding to the pain she already felt, and to stop laughing felt worse than anything she’d ever felt. Anne laughed, and from the needle-syringe wound, still spouting red-yellow ooze, grew a new plant. This intrigued Anne, just as the original oozing had intrigued her. Once again everything else was neglected, and this new plant became her only priority; she watched over it, cared for it the same as she would care for any plant. Once again, she found herself sinking back into bed due to pains that afflicted her, and once again the oozing returned, her own humanity thrown away for the fungi she injected herself with. She found herself calling out of work too often, and her supervisor calling her home even more so.  

“Anne,” she would always begin with a sigh, “you cannot just abandon your desk.” And she would rant on how good workmanship was required for this position, and she would question if Anne actually wanted this second chance at a normal, mundane job. Anne would laugh at her, sometimes under her breath, sometimes aloud.  

“I’m doing great things,” she would tell her supervisor. “I am doing things you can only dream of doing, and I won’t be persuaded into coming back there.”

Her supervisor sighed again, then would hang up the phone without another word or thought. Within the week, Anne received another call that she had been fired, and would be required to pick up her things sooner rather than later.

Finally, Anne thought, she was free to focus on her mission. Finally, she was free to document her fleeting humanity, the plant that grew from her side growing stronger and healthier and more beautiful each day, the oozing becoming almost unbearably putrid as it gushed from her neck. Soon more syringes found their way inside her veins, filled with puss and ooze and gushing stuff from other fungi. She digested the leaves of raw plants, even split them open and drank the water from inside them. Anything she could do to consume them, to speed up the effects, Anne would try, until finally she realized she could no longer. When the pain had become too great, when the way she doubled over caused a permanent stitch in her side, she stopped. When the plant that grew from her broke off and attached itself to her foot, where it grew multiple different children, she stopped. When her humanity had found its final leg, and she was bedridden due to the pain, to the way bile rose and down in her throat whenever she stood up and tried to walk, Anne’s experiment was complete.

Still, she laughed. When she vomited red and white ooze, she laughed. Underneath her warm sheets, covered in a thin layer of sweat and puss, she laughed to herself, until new plant matter and fungi grew inside her throat, and she could laugh no longer.

[seasonsofeverlark]

Hope Lies In Tomorrow

Author: @mega-aulover​

Prompt: Katniss is caught crossing the fence by peacekeepers. Serves time. Conditions of parole: employment nearby (busy bakery?) and reporting weekly to the parole officer (Haymitch?) Will she find anything to be thankful for this thanksgiving [submitted by @567inpanem​]

Rating: M (Because, well, it will get to that status. There will be violence and mentions of abuse, and some characters are off canon.)

Author’s Notes: This story took me for a loop. I couldn’t resist it. I tried to make it light and fun, but it just wanted to be a freight train to the gut. The words “serves time.” I kept on getting back to that, and my imagination just took flight so much that the first two chapters are about 9.5K words. I promise chapter 3 will be a painful doozy. Special thanks to @norbertsmom​.

     Chapter One

The spotlight made Katniss wince as she distinctly heard Darius say, “Pluck a duck,” into the cold dark night.

“We caught a Poacher!” The young Peacekeeper said out loud. He jumped and clapped his hands like a preschool girl with pigtails who just won a prized sticker. He was one of the new cadets brought in for training. 

Daruis was the new Head Peacekeeper. He earned the promotion when Cray retired. Darius also inherited the group of new Peacekeepers. They were eager rule-following Cadets. 

“Everdeen!” Darius groused.

Katniss sighed. She kept her hands in the air. It was the perfect ending to the worst day. It started with the evil spawn of Buttercup peeing inside her drawer. Things got worse when Gale announced he wasn’t going to be able to join her tonight, and he wouldn’t tell her why either. Then this afternoon she discovered her baby sister, well technically, Prim was seventeen and taller than Katniss, but that’s neither here nor there, she was rolling in the hay with Vick Hawthorne. 

Prim wasn’t supposed to be…. well…sex crazed.  Katniss saw red, took a bucket of ice-cold water, and dumped it on top of the two idiots. Vick was fifteen and, like Gale, looked older than Prim’s baby-faced self. Needless to say, Prim was livid. Vick went home with blue balls. And the arguing match that ensued gave Katniss a massive headache. 

However, finding her sister doing the equivalent of two goats breeding in Lady’s pen was nothing compared to their mothers’ reactions to Prim’s escapade. Euadora Everdeen backed Prim and said, “Prim was doing what came natural.” It was what came next that flabbergasted Katniss. “At least I have one normal daughter.” 

It was the last straw, until this moment.

This day was supposed to go so differently. She’d woken up with so much hope  then things fell apart. But she’d kept thinking, tomorrow, tomorrow would be a brighter day. Just get through today and tomorrow would be a better day.

“Katniss,” Darius growled.

Katniss shrugged. There was nothing Darius could do. If he had been alone, he would have looked the other way.

“I’m sorry, but I have to take you in.” 

She held out her hands; she knew the drill. This wasn’t going to be her first time in the District Twelve lock up. In fact, as Darius pulled her toward the transport, and she quietly climbed into the back, this was all familiar. The last time was at that darned Harvest Fair five years ago.

“This would have been easier had you gone to the Fair,” Darius said.

 Her scowl was instantaneous.

“What,” Darius said, jumping inside of the wagon while the young Peacekeeper closed the door. 

“I’m sorry, Darius. 

“I know, Katniss,” Darius was sympathetic. His communicator crackled with a voice that communicated a code. “Roger that.”

In the semi-darkness Katniss could see Darius teeth as he grinned. 

“Old man Haymitch is going to throw the book at you.” Haymitch and she had a long-standing history. She stayed out of trouble and he wouldn’t bring trouble to her. 

Haymitch Abernathy was the former Victor of the 50th Hunger Games and town drunk. The transition from a government run by one man, President Snow, to one run by a council with a true elected leader were the scariest months in Panem. No one knew what would happen. Fears of retaliation from the former government ran high. The word came down from the Capitol for each district to send a District Liaison.

Haymitch volunteered.  

Turns out the drunken Victor was smart, wilier than anyone could perceive. Haymitch helped form the transition team to create the new charter between the Capitol and the Districts. When he came back, Haymitch could have been elected to become the mayor. He could have taken over the position of Head Peacekeeper, since Cray was from the old regime. Instead, Haymitch made up a position, the town Magistrate. Every district would have a way to fairly dispense justice, with the Peacekeepers relegated to do just what their name described keeping the peace. From town drunk to judge, this was the world of the new Panem. 

Though Katniss would rather face Haymitch than her mother.

“Has your mother calmed down?”   

Katniss grimaced. It all started with the initiative. Ever since the President  went crazy and abolished the Games, calling it the Lucy Grey Baird initiative, and then promptly dying before anyone could change the law, her mother’s focus changed from reliving the past to finding Katniss a husband.   

Her mother began railing against her plan to stay single. Mind you Katniss was only sixteen at the time and she could only focus on the fact that her baby sister would never again experience a Reaping.

Nope, not her mother, Eudora Everdeen, somewhere between her melancholy that ensued after pa’s death and the cancellation of the 74th Hunger Games, decided to become a holy nightmare, worse than any horror Katniss’s imagination could conjure up. Her mother tried to fix her up with various men throughout the district. Her mother’s sting about her single status was the last straw tonight.

“She’s stopped,” Katniss flinched; it wasn’t the entire truth.

Eudora hadn’t really stopped, there were introductions all of the time. There was Waylon, Adam, Zachary, Jackson, Hank, Lee, Hunter, Davis, Ashley, Samuel, Vernon, Beau, Elijah, not to mention Humperdinck, who was also known as the Goat Man. It was always the same pattern. A subtle introduction, followed by an invitation to tea or supper or both, a run in in the Seam or the Hob, before the guy in question lost interest and her mother went back to the drawing board. Eudora didn’t push, but she didn’t relent either. However, recently, her mother had been quiet. Katniss hoped after 5 years, her mother finally gave up.    

“But?” Darius asked.

The transport shook as it began to move. 

“Nothing.”

“You know, you’re a bad liar.”

“She doesn’t like me being alone.”

“That’s preposterous. I know plenty of women Peacekeepers.”

“You know we are talking about Eudora Everdeen?”

Darius grinned. “You mother did tell one of my new recruits she should leave her hair down because it would make her look pretty. She even asked me when my time was up and if I was interested in courting you.”

“Yup,” Katniss breathed, “that’s my mother.”

“So is it true she tried to pair you with Gale and even Gale got scared.”

“How do you know?” Katniss’ mother first picked Gale, who conversely, after seeing her mother try to manipulate them as a couple, was shocked. One good thing came off Eudora’s meddling. Gale laid off the entire, we-make-sense offer to toast angle, and suddenly became a perfect angel around her and the rogue doubled his efforts around other women to prove that he wasn’t interested in Katniss.  

“You forget how small District Twelve is,“ Darius said looking tired as he rubbed his face.

He’s right. Twelve is the smallest of all the Districts. And nothing stayed buried, just like a piece of coal, it would be eventually unearthed.

"Gale said my mother was loonier than the Goat man when he got drunk on Ripper’s special liquor.” Ripper called her special liquor, the ‘shine.’ There were rumors the shine caused people to do strange things. Katniss wasn’t interested in drinking anything that wasn’t life sustaining. Her only thought was to keep food on the table and maintain the roof over her family’s heads. Just last summer she had to fix the roof all by herself. Drinking or marriage were out of the picture.

When Gale politely said he wasn’t interested in Katniss, her mother was upset, but said she understood that Gale only saw Katniss as a sister. Five years ago, Katniss hoped with her mother’s attempts thwarted, Eudora would give up getting her hitched. Little did she know it wasn’t over by a long shot. 

Darius snorted. “Your name comes up every year." 

"Ugh. I avoid that damned dance every year.” There were three main social events in District Twelve, where parents shoved their young for possible partnerships and couples did coupley things, The Spring Formal, The Harvest Fair, and the Winter Festival. The last of these major social events had been the Harvest Fair.

“Waylon still asks about you every time.”

Katniss groaned hearing that name again. He was Leevy’s brother, who was in Gale’s class. Waylon was the next on her mother’s list. Waylon’s obsession began slowly. He failed his last year of school and became a quasi-associate. He would show up at her locker and want to walk with her to class. At first it was nice. He was Gale’s friend and as long as he didn’t talk, she didn’t mind. When they graduated, he went to work in the mines.  Katniss set up a booth in the Hob selling her jerky.

And for a time, everything was calm. Then he started coming to supper. He tried to become friends with Prim. Her sister thought him weird. Then one day, Waylon tried to kiss her. When she pushed him away, he chased her straight into the forest. Thankfully, he didn’t dare go into the woods. 

The woods became her refuge. As soon as she knew Waylon was let loose of his shift at the mines, he would head straight to the Hob.  Katniss would pack up her booth and run off into the woods. She began hunting at night to get away from him. Also, she sort of used Gale as an unofficial bodyguard to keep Waylon at a distance. Waylon was a sore spot in her relatively short life span. 

“He does?” The words slipped out before they could be stopped. 

“He’s got a thing for you Katniss,” Darius’ voice sounded full of mirth, “He’s one of many in the district.”

“If I weren’t in handcuffs, I’d deck you.”

Darius grinned. “He still shoots Peeta the evil eye.”

At the mention of Peeta’s name, her brain misfires.

Peeta.  

Sigh, strong, capable, dependable, sweet, kind, lovely, delicious…always lurking in her dreams, Peeta. 

That night at the Harvest Fair, every time she saw Waylon come her way she hid. Thankfully Peeta came to her rescue. He asked her to dance and afterwards he escorted her the entire time.

Oh, Peeta tried to keep her out of trouble. He was so nice, and she had no way to pay him for his kindness in rescuing her that night. Even four years later she could still recall every detail. He did admirably despite her lack of social graces, and inability to dance. 

Katniss groaned in the transport, her head leaning up against the metal wall. Dancing with Peeta was heavenly, being with Peeta was indescribable, but Katniss shoved that feeling deep, deep, way deep inside of her, locked it up and only took out that memory in the dead of night. When she was alone in her bed, her fingers drifted to her lady parts and she sought relief from the thoughts of what it would be like to kiss him over and over.  

She had a secret bond with Peeta, a bond she couldn’t shake. “Peeta,” her heart whispered with longing. Katnis hoped Darius couldn’t see how deeply she was affected by her baker. Peeta was the one soul in the district who knew her better than anyone else. 

“So, it’s Peeta you have a thing for. Waylon’s not wrong in giving him the evil eye.” 

Katniss scowled at Darius, causing him to laugh.

“I’d have to be drunk on the shine,” Katniss grumbled. She hoped to redirect Darius, he was so near the truth.

“Katniss,” Darius rubs his face. “Please don’t tell me you’ve drunk the shine.”

“No. Gale swears he has. He said it’s so strong it has the power to peel paint off the walls. Is it true…about you and the shine?” Katniss asked.

Darius became serious.

"So, it isn’t true. I knew Gale was lying."  

Darius cleared his throat. "It made me hallucinate. There are things, Everdeen, you shouldn’t ever try.”  

"Duly noted.”

The transport rolled, and another command came through the radio. Darius “What?”

“Star 451,” the voice answered back.

“Pluck a duck,” Darius whispered angrily. “Are you sure?” 

His angry voice sounded out of control as if he wanted to hit something or someone. The atmosphere changed suddenly. It crackled with foreboding darkness. Katniss tried to ignore it, she knew she was in trouble.

For the rest of the journey Katniss wondered what was going on, what did that Star 451 mean? Katniss noted Darius became quiet, and sullen; all the traces of humor left his face. Darius stopped looking at her as if he couldn’t face her. Finally, the transport came to a halt.

“We’re here.”

Katniss winced, thinking of Haymitch Abernathy, and the uncertainty that faced her outside of the transport.

“Wait for me to get down before you get up,” Darius bit out as the door opened and the cold wind caused Katniss to shiver. 

Katniss wrinkled her nose. Haymitch was going to be a pain in the neck. The last time she’d been before him things were not pleasant.  When she got down, her eyes widened. They weren’t at the Justice building. They were at the Victors Village.

It was one thing to stand in the Justice building, a cold sterile edifice made of white stone. It was another to stand inside of a home. “Darius?”

The transport moved on and there was another waiting, one that did not have any insignia on the side. It was black and it reminded Katniss of the one they used to transport the corpses of the deceased.

“Come on,” Darius said gently, once more avoiding looking at her.

Katniss nodded. She wasn’t someone who let things affect her. She didn’t scare easily, this however, put pure fear in her heart.

Darius escorted her inside of the massive house and guided her into a room by the side. There was a roaring fire in the fireplace. The warmth stung her cold skin. There was a dark wooden desk, two comfortable chairs, and another pair facing the fireplace. “Sit.”

Katniss sat in one of the chairs facing the desk.   

“Give me your hands, Katniss,” Darius said.

Katniss lifted her trembling hands.

“What did I tell you ‘bout keeping your nose out of trouble, Sweetheart?” Haymitch grumbled from the door.

Katniss masked her fear.

Four years ago Gale was sick and couldn’t attend that darned Harvest Fair. Katniss needed a way out, thankfully Peeta rescued her.

Everything was splendid and at one point while staring into his gorgeous blue eyes Katniss was breathless. It was toward the end of the night when his mother, the witch, pulled him away and that’s where all hell broke loose. Accidentally, in her haste to get away from Waylon, a small fire started when one of the glass lamps fell, and broke. Several bales of hay caught fire. It somehow escalated and concluded with a goat stampede down the center of town. 

Her mother blamed Katniss for embarrassing Waylon and his family, and basically setting the fair on fire. Haymitch told her mother that her unfettered meddling would one day cause the destruction of all she held dear. Eudora Everdeen was not amused, nor was she happy with the outcome. Haymitch let Katniss go with a slap on the wrist because her only criminal act was trying to flee the unwanted attention of a man. Plus, thanks to Peeta’s quick thinking, it was only the stage that burned. He and his brothers managed to get the fire out and they built another stage, how they did it in one day, Katniss didn’t know. 

She kept away for the rest of the Harvest Fair, thinking it was better not to remind the community of her stupidity. She’d been lulled under Peeta’s spell. She’d done more than dance and start a fire at that fair. Heat rose from the pit of her belly and flowed to her core and spilled on to her cheeks.

The sound of a chair being scraped on the wood floor caused her bubble to break. Katniss shook her head. Her eyes came back into focus to the present.

“Darius, you can wait outside. Katniss isn’t going to do anything stupid,” Haymitch turned his grey eyes toward her, “are you?” 

Katniss shook her head no. 

Darius nodded and walked outside, closing the door.

Katniss didn’t even bother rubbing her wrists. She balled her hands and rested them at her side.

“You’re probably wondering why you got caught?”

She hadn’t really. Katniss thought it was just a routine inspection. There were bears in the woods and just one week ago the electric fence had been damaged.

“Your mother.”

“What?” Katniss growled. Her lips thinned her anger skyrocketing. Then she thought for a second it couldn’t be. “She wouldn’t…”

“She did, and there wasn’t anything Darius or I could do. We had to arrest you?”

A combination of bitterness and sadness swept into her soul like the bitter winds that brought the frigid winter air. It was one thing to try to get her to marry; it showed that her mother cared. However, handing her over to the authority showed Katniss that her mother had fallen out of love for her. Can a mother un-love a child? It could happen, she supposed, thinking of Peeta’s mother, the witch. That woman only cared for one person, herself.

“Sorry Sweetheart, Darius tried to dissuade her. She said it was time for you to learn what the real world was all about. But instead of leaving it with me and Darius, she went to the Justice building and filed a complaint with Panem’s Bureau of Justice. She got Seneca Crane’s underwear in a twist. He’s demanding you pay for your crimes.”  

Katniss gasped. Seneca Crane was from the old regime. He was the Head Gamemaker of the 74th Hunger Games. His arena was never used. The man was so twisted and evil that he was merciless with those who came under his thumb, and she was one of them. Katniss wondered how someone like him still had power in this new Panem. 

There was no doubt in her mind she was going to serve time. Those who served time were often sent away to another District. She could be sentenced to District Eleven to work in the fields, District Two to work in the mines, or work in District Four in the fish processing plants doing the lowest of menial jobs. “How much time will I be sentenced?

“A year Sweetheart, you can get out early for good behavior, come back here and work the rest of your sentence as a parole.”

Tears gathered in her eyes. She’d never been away from home, never was tempted to escape into the wilds of the forest. Now she was going to be carted out in the middle of the night. She was a blemish to society, unwanted, a problem for her mother. A solitary tear rolled down her face.

Katniss didn’t need handcuffs any more; she was about to be branded as undesirable.

Darius quietly walked in with the machine. They slid her hand in the machine and she cried as the skin of her wrist was seared with an imprint. Cradling her hand she read *451. Now she understood.

“I’m sorry Katniss,” Darius whispered.

Two heavy set men dressed in black came in and pushed her inside of the waiting black transport.

Chapter Two 

Peeta whistled.

“You’re in a good mood,” Norma Jean, his brother Graham’s wife said.  

Norma Jean was his favorite sister in law. Graham had fallen head-over-heels for her. It was funny because before Norma Jean, Graham’s type were tall statuesque thin blondes. Norma Jean was short, and as she put it, rounder than an apple. She was also sweeter than the candy she and Graham sold at the confectioners’ shop.

“I am.” He couldn’t help himself.

Today was Saturday, his favorite day of the week, one because the bakery closed early, and two because Katniss always came by on Saturday to trade with him. No one else. Peeta knew for certain Katniss didn’t trade with anyone else but him.

“Well it’s my favorite day.”

Norma Jean grinned. “Is it because of a certain huntress?”

“Maybe,” he said.

“Hmmm,” Norma Jean said, rubbing her belly, she was heavily pregnant. She was sniffing the air. When pregnant, Norma Jean had the ability to identify different herbs by smell. Her nose was that good.

Peeta kept quiet and wondered how long it would be before she sniffed the cheese buns he had hidden in the back.

“Have you heard from Rye?”

Peeta grinned. “He’s back in District Two.”

Rye was the reason Peeta had inherited the family bakery. With Graham married to Norma Jean, their mother thought Rye would take over the bakery, leaving Peeta out of the inheritance. Then, one-and-a-half years ago Rye announced he wanted to be a Peacekeeper. Nothing their mother said or threatened dissuaded Rye from becoming a Peacekeeper.

“He’s great actually, talked to him last night.”

“Graham’s still upset with him. He didn’t want Rye to sign up to a twenty year commitment to be celibate to serve home and country.”

Peeta recalled. “You know how Rye gets when he wants something.”

“Yeah.” Norma Jean nodded.     

“His training is over, and he’s waiting for his assignment. When we were talking at least ten guys came by to say hello.” Peeta had gotten to know the guys in Rye’s squad. They were from all over Panem.

“Good, I am glad.”

“Won’t Graham miss you?”

“Nope, my sister Virginia is helping him set up; the boys were fast asleep.”

“You do realize today is Saturday and they’re up early on Saturday.” Peeta said.

“Exactly, no one bothers the sweet shop at six in the morning, nine maybe, but six…only those who are craving stuff like me…now, hot buns, give me one of those treat’s you’re saving for your huntress,” Norma Jean demanded.

Peeta shook his head. “I would never deny you anything.”

He walked into the back whistling and grabbed two of the cheese buns he’d saved for himself to share with Katniss.

“For you,” Peeta said, bowing slightly.  

“I haven’t seen you like this since that Harvest Fair?” Norma Jean raised an eyebrow.

“Oh,” Peeta said.

“You can’t lie to me, Peeta,” Norma Jean said, narrowing her eyes, one fist curled around the cheese bun.

“You’re right,” Peeta said.

“So, it is Katniss,” Norma Jean said.

Peeta could feel the heat raising up to his cheeks. He looked at his reflection in the smooth surface of the metal case; he looked ruddy.

After they graduated, Katniss set up her shop in the Hob. Her jerky was a favorite amongst the residents. Katniss had enough coins to buy everything she needed. She could buy bread, but she didn’t. Their friendship began slowly. At first it was a slight nod, with her cheeks so rosy she couldn’t look him in the eyes.

The Harvest Fair changed everything. They’d been a little tipsy as a result of the hard apple cider Greasy Sae offered them. She’d pulled him into Mr. Plover’s blacksmith and horse barn and kissed him. The kiss got out of hand and one thing led to another. Soon they were in one of the empty horse stalls and tearing their clothing off. Katniss had given him her virginity and he had given her his. When they walked out hand in hand Peeta couldn’t help the goofy grin on his face. He would never forget how soft her eyes looked.

Then his mother came looking for him, and everything became a nightmare. Peeta advocated for Katniss, got his brothers and his friends to clean up and rebuild the stage. Katniss was arrested, and the community shunned her. They took Waylon’s side, no thanks to Mrs. Everdeen. Katniss had never attended another social event after that.

“Yes.”

“Oh,” Norma said excitedly.

“Well.” His eyes went to the store front. Mrs. Bernelle came into the store. With Thanksgiving tomorrow Peeta expected a brisk business today.

“Hello Mrs. Bernelle,” Peeta greeted.

“Hello Peeta, Norma Jean.”

“Hello,” Norma Jean said, rubbing her stomach.

 “You’re due any day now?” Mrs. Burnelle said warmly to Norma Jean.

“ Just about.” Norma Jean smiled warmly.

“How can I help you, Mrs. Burnelle,” Peeta said, wanting Mrs. Burnelle out of the store so that he could speak to Norma Jean.

“May I have a dozen of your dinner rolls, but only the freshest.”

“Yes, ma’am,” Peeta said, grabbing a brown paper bag. He quickly dispensed the rolls.”

Mrs. Burnelle smelled the bread, “These smell delicious,” she leaned over and with a mischievous lilt in her voice. “Don’t tell you father, but you are the better baker.”

“I won’t,” Peeta laughed. “Is that all for today?”

“Yes.” She had the exact amount. She put it on the counter. “Thank you Peeta and Happy Thanksgiving.”

Thanksgiving became a national Holiday after the treaty between the Capitol and the Districts was ratified as law. A day for both sides to come together and celebrate everlasting peace and tranquility and celebrated with a big meal. Normally the Capitol sent all of the Districts a parcel with some sort of treat. Each year a District was selected to make a parcel to send to the Capitol. District Twelve had yet to be selected.   

“Thank you, you too,” Peeta said. He waited until the door was closed before he turned his attention back to Norma Jean.

“Whatever you have to tell me has got to be really good for you to be acting like you did four years ago?”  

Peeta sighed happily.

“Did something happen between you two?”

Norma Jean knew all. Peeta confided in her. When Katniss didn’t show up that Saturday after the Fair, she encouraged him to seek out Katniss. Peeta gathered his courage and found her at the Hob. She looked like hell and she wouldn’t even look at him in the eyes. Peeta found out from Greasy Sae, no one was buying her jerky.

Peeta brazenly bought her jerky and told her he’d run out of squirrels. Then he sent Norma Jean, and Norma sent Rye, and Rye sent Delly to buy her jerky. Delly sent someone else and so forth. There was no way he was going to allow the people of District Twelve to turn their backs on Katniss.

The following Saturday he found a package at his doorstep. Norma Jean packed up some bread and told him to pay her for her game meat. He’d gone down to the Hob and put the bread on her table and told her she’d forgotten her payment before he walked away.

This went on for weeks until she came by and shyly waited to make the exchange. Every Saturday he’d do his best to tamp down his own yearnings because Katniss needed a friend. He made it his mission to befriend her. Like a flower blossoming she opened up to him.  

Peeta remained tight lipped.

Mrs. Evangeline walked into the shop.

“Good Morning Mrs. Evangeline,” Peeta greeted, but he could see Norma Jean wanted to shove the nosy woman out of the bakery.

“Hello Peeta,” Mrs. Evangeline said with her list in hand. She nodded at Norma Jean. This morning Mrs. Evangeline was in battle mode. “I am in a rush this morning. I have to get to the butchers before the best cut of meat is taken,” she muttered. 

“What can I help you with today?”

“My daughter is coming home with her new husband and I need her favorite bread, a baguette.”

“Oh yes, I remember Rosalee loves the sourdough with Mrs. Caries strawberry preserves.”

“Oh yes,” Mrs. Evangeline said. “May I also have a loaf of the sourdough?”

“Absolutely,” Peeta said.

“Thank you Peeta, you always remember everything,” Mrs. Evangeline gushed.

“It’s no problem,” Peeta smiled but he saw Norma Jean’s impatience.

“So, when you are due?” Mrs. Evangeline asked Norma Jean.

“Any day now,” Norma Jean answered.

Peeta bagged the baguettes and the loaf of Sourdough. “Here you go.”

“Thank you,” Mrs. Evangeline. “How much?”

“Ten credits,” Peeta said.

Mrs. Evangeline took out her credits and paid Peeta. “Thank you and happy Thanksgiving to you and yours.”

“Thank you, you too.” Peeta waved as Mrs. Evangeline left.

“Finally,” Norma Jean exclaimed.

Peeta shrugged not wanting to give anything away.

“I thought she’d never leave,” Norma Jean huffed.   

He feigned innocence.

“Okay hot stuff, what happened? And don’t spare any details. I know Katniss has been coming here every Saturday for the past three years.”

Norma Jean wasn’t wrong. Katniss had been coming to the bakery every Saturday.  She’d knock on his door precisely at nine in the morning. They would talk and sometimes she’d linger to drink tea. Recently he began showing her some new recipe he’d been working on.

Peeta grabbed a cleanser and a squeegee and wiped down the counter.

“Uh-uh…none of those diversionary tactics!”

Peeta put his hands in the air.

“Go on, what happened?” Norma Jean fixed with him the mommy glare.

“We kissed,” Peeta whispered.

“What,” she screeched. “When?”

“Last week.”

“Okay, more!”

“Katniss came to the door, we traded, we drank tea. I introduced her to my newest creation. These cheese buns. And I saw that same sparkle in her eyes, as the night of the Fair. I do not exactly know how it happened. But we kissed.” How precisely their lips met Peeta was still fuzzy on that, but he did recall the desire and longing that shot through him like the fireworks that lit the sky at Thanksgiving. Her lips were soft and warm, and he marveled once more at the taste of wild berries, sweet and tart, crisp and delicious.   

“Good for you,” Norma Jean said. “Are you guys going to talk today, going to, you know, talk about getting together?”

“I hope so. I’ve waited so long for her to see me, and not just as a friend.”

“I’m so happy for you,” Norma Jean said. Her eyes looked past him above him at the clock, and she groaned, picking up her packages. “I’m late, I have to drop this off at your mother’s house.”

“Good luck,” Peeta grinned.

“Nothing to it,” she rubbed her expanded belly. “Your mother is always rainbows and hearts when I’m pregnant. She keeps on expecting a girl. Sadly, I keep on producing strong Mellark men, much to your father’s delight. He loves his grandchildren. But not as much as your brother loves to keep me fat and round.”

“Norma Jean, you’re not fat,” Peeta replied.

“And that’s why my wife prefers you over me.” Graham came into the shop with his twin boys, one in each arm. Their other child was wrapped around his ankle.

Norma Jean patted Peeta’s hand. “Graham is the grouchy one and Rye is the wild one and you, Peeta are the good Mellark. You’re the hot goods every girl in District Twelve wants to get her grubby hands on, but only one can have.”

“Please don’t call my baby brother hot in front of me,” Graham whined.

Norma Jean grinned wickedly. “Sorry Graham we both know that even Rye with all of his wild ways isn’t as hot as Peeta.”

“Evil woman,” Graham said, handing one of his boys to Peeta.

“Hey buddy!” Peeta grabbed Malcom and tossed him in the air. 

“Uncle Peeta,” his twin brother Marvin shouted. “Me, I’m next.”

Martin who was wrapped around Graham’s ankle popped up, “Me too, me too.”

Peeta loved his nephews.

“Boys,” Norma Jean said with that firm mommy voice they listened to.

“Yes mama?” All boys said with rapt attention.

“Your uncle is working. He will wrestle with you tomorrow,” Norma Jean said.  

All three boys nodded their pale blue eyes wide with excitement.

“Here’s a cookie for each of you,” Peeta said, taking three plain cookies out. Norma and Graham were careful about the sugar the kids ate. “Why don’t you guys sit at the table and eat the cookies?”

All three of them scampered to the table and sat, eating.

“So if uncle Peeta comes over then maybe mommy and me can…”

“Nope,” Norma Jean said. “Peeta and mommy have serious girl stuff going on.”

“Seriously,” Graham settled his eyes on Peeta. “What the heck? What kind of pull do you have over the ladies?”

“I told you Peeta’s the hot one,” Norma Jean winked. But then placed a playful kiss on Graham’s lips.

Graham stared lovingly into Norma Jean’s eyes then turned to Peeta and playfully growled, “She’s mine, all mine.”

“I know,” Peeta shrugged. “Besides, she’s not my type.”

“I’m not,” Norma Jean said. Then she stood on tiptoe to place a small kiss on Graham’s chin. “If we leave the kids today at grampa’s, maybe we can have a private chat about my candy shop, after we close at noon?”

“Oh,” Graham said, his voice brightening.  

Peeta was grossed out by the innuendo.

“Okay, Mellark Clan, march out,” Graham said. “We’re going to grandpa’s.”

The store emptied of his brother’s family, but then the customers came in filling the store for two solid hours. As the time neared 9 o’clock, Peeta started whistling.

Nothing could get him down.  

He had the tea prepared, he had cream, and plenty of sugar. Peeta grimaced. How Katniss could drink her tea that way, he didn’t know, but Katniss loved her tea with loads of cream and sugar. He whistled as he wiped down the display cases.

He looked at the clock, 9 o’clock. His gut twisted, anticipating her soft knock. But it didn’t come. He put his cloth away and walked to the back door.

He opened the door looking to see if he could spot her trademark bag or braided hair. He worried something was wrong. Katniss wouldn’t have stayed away. He knew kissing her could have been a mistake and maybe she was regretting the kiss. Peeta shook his head. This was different. Something felt off and he didn’t know what it was. He couldn’t put his finger on it either.

Peeta looked at the clock, she was fifteen minutes late. Katniss was never late; she was alway punctual. He was truly worried, maybe she’d gotten into another argument with her mother over her single status. Mrs. Everdeen was dogged in her search for a husband for Katniss. All of the men Mrs. Everdeen picked for Katniss were strong minded individuals. Men who liked to be in charge. Peeta chuckled, Katniss didn’t need a domineering guy. Anyone with her same fire would cause them both to combust. 

These four years Peeta had gotten to know Katniss, and from what he gleaned she  needed someone who treated her as equal or someone to balance her fire. Someone who understood the value of partnership. Peeta hoped he was that man for her. 

He once more looked at the clock and another five minutes went by. Foreboding crept inside of his being, causing the hairs of his neck to stand on end. The last time he felt that was right before the fire. Something was wrong. 

“Where are you, Kat?” Peeta asked. He had half a mind to close the shop and walk to her home in the Seam. 

The bell to the front door rang. He sighed then went to the front. Though his mind was made up, he was going to close up shop and head to the Seam as soon as he finished with the patron waiting for him.  

“Dad?”

“Son,” his father glanced at him and there was concern in his eyes.

His father hardly came to the bakery now that he had retired. His parents moved to a house just outside the central market. His father enjoyed gardening and canning. He enjoyed his little group of other gardeners. His mother didn’t like the sedate life but she didn���t really have much of a say.

“What’s going on dad?”

“I came to check on you,” his father searched his eyes.

“Dad, you’re acting weird,” Peeta said, frowning. 

His father was uneasy, his feet shifted, his hands were buried deep in his pocket, and there was something about the way that his dad looked at him reminded Peeta of the day that his dad sat him down and talked about what it meant to be the third son of a baker. It was one of the hardest conversations they’d ever had. Peeta loved the bakery, loved the smell of yeast, and yes even though he didn’t like the heat, he loved the smell of the hot ovens. There was something immensely enjoyable about seeing the awe and wonder in a customer’s face when he delivered a cake for a special occasion. 

He hoped one day to see that same awe and wonder in Katniss’ face, if he could only find her talk to her.

His father cleared his throat.

“What is it dad?” Peeta said, walking to the shop door and flipping the sign from open to close. He closed the door. Peeta squared his shoulders waiting for whatever news his father had for him.

“Son,” his father drifted off. He closed his eyes then said, “…it’s about Katniss…”

“What about Katniss,” Peeta couldn’t believe how calm his voice was. He should have been freaking out. His father knew how important Katniss was to him, though he didn’t know the extent of their friendship.

“She’s been arrested.”

That feeling in his gut that told him Katniss wasn’t okay, caused Peeta’s senses to sharpen. He needed to help her get out of trouble. He stalked to the cash register as if it was his mortal enemy, opening the drawer he took out all of the credits and emptied it into a bag. “I’m going to Darius; what’s her bail?”

 “She was caught last night in the middle of the night, with squirrels, poaching.”

Peeta’s heart stopped beating. She’d been hunting for him. At least now he knew Katniss wasn’t running from him. His mind quickly formulated a plan. He walked to the back and put his coat on. As he walked, he talked, “Fine I can talk to Haymitch, tell him why.”

“Son,” his father’s grave voice let Peeta know there was more. His father put his hands on his shoulder. Peeta was still. He didn’t want to know more but he knew he needed to listen. “Her mother.”

“What has she done now?” Peeta didn’t wait; he shook his head. “No, I need to see Haymitch.” Peeta ran out of the back door and speedily ran to the Justice Building. He tore up the stairs taking them two at a time. She’d spent the night in jail.

He didn’t even bother talking to Haymitch’s assistant Anna.

“Mr. Mellark, you can’t go in there,” Anna stood.

Peeta had never been uncourteous to anyone. He was always kind, always aware of other’s feelings. It’s why his mother thought him soft, but he wasn’t really. Not when it came to Katniss. He loved her, and for Katniss he would give up his life.

“Anna,” Peeta growled, and her eyes opened wide as if she’d encountered a feral beast in the meadow.

She stepped to the side.

Peeta barged right through into Haymitch’s office. The last time he’d been here he was eighteen. Desperate to help Katniss. He wasn’t a kid anymore; he was a man, a man who was willing to move heaven and earth for the woman he loved.

Haymitch had a drink on his desk, and an opened bottle. Another was tossed into the waste paper basket. His office smelled of malt whisky and white liquor. Peeta hadn’t seen Haymitch drunk in years. Not since he was fifteen.  His eyes swept the room and he noted Haymitch was not alone.

Mrs. Everdeen and her sister Primrose stood in a corner. Mrs. Everdeen looked surprised to see him. Her pale blue eyes were like stones in a river, hard and cold. Her sister Primrose stood away from her mother. Her arms clamped around her middle. Her eyes were red rimmed and her nose was bright red. The rest of her, her face, hands, and legs looked pale, ashen really.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to get here,” Haymitch rasped gruffly.

“Where’s Katniss?” he demanded.

“Boy, sit, have a drink,” Haymitch said, pointing to the two chairs in front of his desk.

“No, where’s Katniss and how much to bail her out?”

Haymitch rubbed his face. “When I took this job on I did it because I knew that the people didn’t trust Cray or any Head Peacekeepers to make the laws just. I set up this position for each district so that they could have one of their own to make decisions on their cases. I specifically set it up with loopholes so that no party could have the ultimate power over the other.”

Haymitch gave Mrs. Everdeen a scathing look.

Mrs. Everdeen lifted her nose. “I only did what was right. She was poaching.” Her voice was filled with indignation, as if she couldn’t understand why she was being reprimanded.   

“Eudora, what you did was send an innocent girl into hell because of your stupid pride. You’re no better than the folks that tossed you out into the street when you chose to marry Jack,” Haymitch barked.

Peeta noted how Eudora blinked and her eyes flickered with momentary pain before they went back to that cool indifference. Katniss had a similar look, but unlike Mrs. Everdeen’s which held no personality depth, Katniss’ look always showed a small bit of vulnerability, compassion, fiery resistance and some trace of emotion. Peeta could spend a lifetime examining Katniss’ smallest gestures.

“What happened, Haymitch, where’s Katniss?”

“I don’t see why he should be here,” Eudora said coolly.

“He has every right to be here,” Haymitch said, standing up. “That boy is the one fella your daughter loves.”  

Eudora’s eyes widened with shock and she looked at Peeta, really looked at him as if seeing him for the first time. She shook her head, “No, not him, she doesn’t love him. She doesn’t even know him.”

“She does, mama,” Primrose said.

“Katniss was caught poaching for me,” Peeta said quietly. “Every Saturday she comes to my shop and we trade, and talk…” Peeta looked at Haymitch, “Where is she? I need to see her?”

Her mother suddenly looked pale.

“Eudora tipped Darius about Katniss poaching on Fridays late in the evening. I guess she thought Darius wasn’t going to do anything and filed a complaint to Panem’s Bureau of Justice. It got to Crane; that bastard ordered me to hand her over for justice.”

“No,” Peeta roared. He stood up, his eyes landing on Mrs. Everdeen. Prim stood at his side.

“No,” Prim said quietly.

His hands were stretched out resting on Mrs. Everdeen’s neck.

“Boy,” Haymitch ordered.

Mrs. Everdeen’s eyes were wider than saucers. Her body trembled underneath his fingers. There were horror stories about landing in the clutches of Seneca Crane. “Do you realize Katniss can be killed because she was bringing me squirrels.” His voice cracked. Tears stung his eyes. He let go of Mrs. Everdeen and sat in the chair.

“Momma, you’d done wrong.”

“Primrose, I wasn’t going to let her stop you from marrying. I wasn’t going to let her…”

“MOMMA!” Primrose squeaked.

Mrs. Everdeen became quiet.

“If you bothered to get to know Katniss, you would know that she would never stop me from getting married if that’s what I wanted. You would know that all Katniss wants is for me to be happy. Yes, I got mad at her for walking in on me and Vick.” Prim stopped, wiping the tears from her face. “But I know she did it because she loves me and she did not want me to foolishly get pregnant.” Prim squared her shoulders.

Peeta raised an eyebrow; he’d never seen this side to Katniss’ sister. Prim was a sweet girl, innocent, loving and caring. The girl before him had grit and integrity, something she learned from Katniss. Prim leveled a look at her mother before turning to look at Peeta.

“Yesterday she said she knew what it was like to get carried away in the arms of a man that loved you so much it hurt. She knew what it was like to give into pleasure so deep without thought of the future. She told me she didn’t want me to go through the worry of a pregnancy scare.”

Peeta’s hands gripped the arm of the chair he sat in. Katniss thought she was pregnant. He could just imagine her terror. He thought she’d been avoiding him because of the fire; he didn’t know it was because she didn’t know if they’d made a baby together. Katniss was right to be scared. They weren’t ready back then. He had no future and she still had her sister to rear. He looked up to Prim and nodded acknowledging her words.

“You and Katniss,” her mother sounded brittle.

“No Momma, don’t redirect; look at me,” Prim ordered.

Mrs. Everdeen looked at her youngest daughter.

“If you would have taken the time to get to know your eldest daughter, you’d know she sacrificed herself for me.  I made her promise me that after I graduated that she would follow her dreams. Katniss promised me,” Prim looked at Peeta. “She’d promised me she’d talk to you, Peeta.”

“I,” Mrs. Everdeen said.

“Katniss helped me, after I graduate, I was going to go to District 3. Dr. Jensen helped me get into an accelerated course in medicine. Everything is set up.” Prim’s voice sounded watery, she had tears running down her face. “Now I can’t go knowing my sister is in the hands of that butcher.”

Mrs. Everdeen flinched.  

Peeta stood and gently held Prim in his arms as she cried. “I don’t understand how you could do this to Katniss. I don’t understand how you could betray her when all she’s ever done is to put food on your table and keep a roof over your head. She is the most selfless person. The most loyal. All Katniss has ever done is tried to protect her family, yet you betrayed her.”

“I did it for her own good. I didn’t betray her.” Mrs. Everdeen stood straighter. “This new regime, it may not last forever. There are men like Seneca Crane out there who are vying for power. What if one of them becomes president and then we end up worse? Katniss is a foolish child. I had to do what I thought was best for Katniss, and taking away her ability to hunt was the only way I could think of to get her to think…to see how dangerous this world was.”

“What you did was feed her to the wolves,” Peeta spat. “They called my mother the witch, but you lady, you are a cold hearted bitch.”

Mrs. Everdeen’s eyes became colder. “Primrose we are leaving.”

“No momma,” Prim said, shaking her head. “I’m not going back to that house. I’m gonna to do everything in my power for my sister.” 

“How long?” Peeta asked Haymich.

“A year,” Haymitch sighed. He looked tired and drained as he spoke, “Maybe less for good behavior.”  

“Where?” Peeta asked.

“District Two.”

Hope bloomed in Peeta’s chest. “My brother is in District 2, maybe he can watch out for Katniss, keep an eye on her, and make sure nothing happens to her.”

“You think Rye would do that?”

“Yeah, he would,” Peeta said. Then he turned to Haymitch and  asked, “What happens when… if she gets out for good behavior?”

“If Crane’s people let her go for good behavior, and I doubt it’ll happen, Katniss will be paroled and required to work the rest of her sentence.”

“I want her assigned to me. She can work off the rest of her parole in my bakery. She can live under my roof and I can take care of her.”

“Okay I can do that.” Haymitch sat down at his desk. He pushed the bottle and the glass into the waste paper basket. He took out a form.

“Wait, what’s going on,” Mrs. Everdeen said.

“There’s no way I’m going to give up on Katniss. When she gets out of there she’s going to need a home, a place where she can be safe, and know that she’s wanted and loved.”

“What will your mother say?”

“My mother has no decision in the bakery or how it’s run. The bakery became mine last year when my father and Rye signed it over to me. Believe me, I’m going to make a Katniss campaign and when she comes back everyone in town will welcome her with open arms.”

“Haymitch,” Prim said, stepping out of Peeta’s arms. She sat in the chair facing his desk. “You said Seneca might not let her be released for good behavior. Does that mean he will make sure that she serves out her full sentence?’

“Yes, that rat bastard makes all of his victims pay.” Haymitch set the paperwork aside. His eyes though, were churning as if he was working on a puzzle.

“Then how can we make sure, or what can we do to make certain Crane has to shorten my sister’s sentence?” Prim asked on the edge of her chair. 

“What are you thinking about?” Peeta asked, sitting down in the empty chair. 

Haymitch opened his drawer and pulled out a slim electronic device. Because District 12 was the outlying district, and it was the poorest one, it dealt mostly with papers. However, there were things that needed to be done with the fancy electronics that the Capitol favored. 

Peeta had a computer at the bakery, it was one of the first things he splurged on. It helped him maintain his accounting and supplies. It also was a way for him to get incontact with his brother in District Two.

“This is a computer, and it contains all of the bylaws of Panem. When we set up the justice system, I wanted to make sure there was a catch. Our newly appointed President Paylor helped come up with this. I had forgotten about it until this moment, Prim.”

“What is it?” Prim asked, voicing what Peeta was asking himself.

“Ha!” Haymitch said triumphantly. “There is a clause in the law that stipulates that family members can step in and volunteer for family in case they unjustly fall into the hands of Panem’s Bureau of Justice. Your sister was caught with two squirrels at the time she was caught poaching. Now poaching is a serious offense. But squirrel hunting is completely legal. In fact it just happens to be hunting season for the little critters.”

“So in reality all Katniss did was get caught crossing the fence,” Peeta said.

“And that is a lesser offence than poaching.” Haymitch turned to Primrose. “Which means that her conviction is unjust and a family member can volunteer to work some of her time off here in the district. If someone volunteers, Katniss’ hard labor sentence will be cut in half, but she’ll still have to be paroled.”

“Six months of labor?” Prim whispered, before looking to Haymitch and asking. “Will I be able to finish school?”

“I don’t see why not, we just need someone to take you in for six months for you to work for them for free.”

“No,” Mrs. Everdeen said.

“I’m seventeen Momma, well past the age of consent in Panem,” Prim said.

“I forbade you,” Mrs. Everdeen said, stomping her foot.

“Haymitch, I volunteer for my sister. I volunteer to work off of her debt.”

“YOU CAN’T!” 

Prim turned to her mother. “This is all your doing Momma, if you’d let Katniss alone, she’d be with Peeta now talking about the future. Talking to the man she loved about a toasting, children, everything she denied herself for a long time. But you wanted to punish her. You wanted to punish her for looking like Papa, for being his daughter. For always doing the right thing even if it meant going against your archaic wishes. Now you will take the punishment the way I am sure Katniss took hers, with dignity.” Turning to Haymitch Prim said, “Where do I sign?”

Mrs. Everdeen cried, and ran out of the room.

Peeta turned to Prim. “Will she be alright?”

“No,” Prim said. “But Katniss was right; our mother is selfish. I didn’t see it until now. She thinks what she did is justified, that she did the right thing. But she didn’t and now it’s up to us to save Katniss.”

“You’re a lot like her,” Peeta said.

“Thank you, that’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” Prim said.

“I think we need to get my sister-in-law,” Peeta said to Haymitch.

“Norma Jean,” Haymitch said.

My sister-in-law is pregnant with her fourth child. She said she is ready to give birth any time. Anyways, her sister Virginia’s getting married in a month to Jason Swanson, the railroad engineer’s son. Once she gets married, she’s going to work full time there, which means my brother will be alone in the store. They’re going to need help, and I know Norma Jean would never treat you poorly. She’s the only one I trust to help out. My brother Graham will pretty much do anything Norma Jean says.”

“Anne,” Haymitch barked.

Anne walked in, “Yes, Mr. Abernathy?”

“Go have one of Darius’ do-gooders get Peeta’s brother and sister-in-law here,” Haymitch grabbed another piece of paper. “We’re going to save Sweetheart’s butt.”

Peeta sat back, but he knew the battle was far from over. That night he called his brother. His brother was like him, but his features weren’t as soft. His face was angular, and his blonde hair was darker and it was curlier, though you couldn’t tell since he was sporting a buzz cut.

“Hey Peeta,”

“Rye I need…”

“Don’t I know. I heard about Katniss. It’s all everyone is talking about. The girl whose mother betrayed her for you. I’m kind of a celebrity now.”  

“You saw her?”

“No, she’s been put deep in the tunnels. The star squad is so deep they don’t surface for months at a time. Communication down there is only done when necessary.”

“Will you keep me apprised if you do see her, take care of her for me?” Peeta asked.

Rye nodded then he said, “Did Graham really say yes to Primrose staying with him?”

“Yeah,” Peeta smiled ruefully. He was tired and he wished he could have done more.

“Huh, was it Norma Jean?”

“No, he volunteered when he heard what happened to Katniss, before I could even ask.”

“Really, I guess he’s not like mom.”

“Nope, if he were like mom he would have married Esme Smith.”

Rye laughed. “I forgot about Esme; man you know she popped my cherry.”

“Rye, really, I don’t need to know your escapades,” Peeta joked but it didn’t reach his eyes. Rye was trying to make him feel better, but it wasn’t working.

“Look Peeta, I know Katniss is your girl, and I promise, in fact all of the guys in my squad, in all of the squads know how special she is, they told me if they’ll take care of her.”

“Except for the guys working under Crane,” Peeta muttered. He closed his eyes. He wanted to punch the wall, wanted to scream.

“Just hang in there, Katniss is strong, she’s tough. For any girl of twelve to brave the forest and hunt animals with the threat of predatory beasts to put food on the table, that takes bigger balls than I have.”

“Thanks Rye,” Peeta whispered.

“I’ve got to go, but maybe the next time tell Graham that what he did for Prim was great.”

“I will.”

The communication went off. Peeta sighed and leaned back. He looked up at the darkened sky just beyond his bedroom window. “Hang in there Katniss. Please hang in there,” he whispered brokenly.

A lot of things could happen in six months. Katniss could be beaten mercilessly. She could be raped by one of the prisoners or even by a sadistic guard. She could catch a disease and die. The fear he’d been fighting threaded through him and for the first time in all of his life he was unsure of the future. Sleep was not an option for him tonight and he couldn’t celebrate Thanksgiving tomorrow. Not with the love of his life in some hellhole beneath the earth.

Getting up, he began to clean and sometime around midnight he decided to make bread for the children tomorrow; that would keep his mind occupied. The next six months were going to be the hardest of his life.

[starglossie]

HINAYACHI NATION WE RISE!!! [ read here: we make a sunset, you and i ]

Summary: Yachi loves highlighters. They're perfect for when she's taking notes. But her one orange highlighter just doesn't sit right. It's not the right shade of orange. And she can't really place what shade she's looking for until she spots Hinata. And when she does, she thinks:Yes, that's it. That's the perfect shade.

CAN ALSO BE READ DOWN BELOW!

Yachi loved highlighters. 

Especially the pastel kind! They were the right shade of pink and blue and purple and yellow. A soft brightness that sat well on her paper when she dragged the felt tip across a certain word to make it pop. 

She’d always been into color coding her notes. Colors were a great way to organize things. Blue for definitions. Greens for important takeaways. Pinks for material that will definitely be tested on an exam. Colors made sense. 

Every so often she’d start vibing with a certain color. Some days her reading notes were more baby pink than sky blue. Or dewy green compared to lilac purple. Now, she found herself leaning towards her orange highlighter more. Though she quickly discovered, as she highlighted her notes in class and frowned deeply when the shade of orange wasn’t dark enough, that the shade simply wasn’t… right.

“Yachi!” 

Yachi looked up from her notes. Hinata sat in the chair in front of her desk, resting his elbows on her desk. The sun was streaming boldly through the window, illuminating Hinata’s face and making his hair extra prominent in Yachi’s eyes. A fiery mass of orange. So bright you could never miss it. 

That’s the right shade , she thought. Looking down at her orange highlighter that paled in comparison. If she could find a highlighter like Hinata’s hair. She’d be golden. Or, ha, orange . She laughed at her own little joke. Hinata scrunched his face in return. 

“Whatcha laughing at?”

“Oh! Nothing,” she kicked her feet under her desk. A soft, rosey red bloomed on her cheeks. She could never share that joke. She’d combust from the embarrassment alone. “Is everything alright, Hinata?”

“No! We have a test coming up!” Yachi couldn’t but smile despite Hinata’s clear distress. Tests were not Hinata’s strong suit in the slightest. Though he was incredibly determined with his studying-or he tried to be, Yachi would give him kudos where kudos were due.  

“Ah right...” she opened up her planner. It had bright sunflowers on the front and her name engraved in white. She flipped to March’s calendar where, two weeks from now, she had circled in bright pink EXAM TODAY! “I was going to text you about when you’d like to meet and study! I already started compiling a notebook for you…” 

“Really?” Hinata’s eyes widened. They were so bright, Yachi thought they could have been covered with stars. “ Yachi, you’re incredible!” 

Heat rose under her cheeks. She wanted to say this was nothing special. That the word incredible shouldn’t be used for something that, to her, was the natural course of things. Of course she’d make a notebook for him. She’d been doing that for years. And she enjoyed the little rush she got when she placed the tabs just right and when she created the perfect outline that aligned with the way Hinata best broke down information. 

But for Hinata to think she’s incredible, all the same, a pleasant heat pooled under her skin that mirrored the baking warmth you get sitting under the sun at the beach for a few hours. 

“Oh it’s nothing, really,” she said, popping the cap of her highlighter up than clicking it down. “We can review during lunchtime? Or maybe after practice if you’re not too tired?” 

They were third years now. And every time Yachi thought about how two years had passed since she joined the volleyball club, awe and a little bit of sadness washed over her. She never pictured her high school life surrounding the sport and now, she couldn’t imagine what her high school life would have been like if she hadn’t joined. 

She would open her journals sometimes. The ones she kept to write down how her day went, to give gratitude, to scribble down little prayers when they popped into her mind-for good health, for a meteor to not crash into her roof, for her mother’s happiness, to maybe fall in love-and read back over what she wrote. She’d grown so much and to just see that progress was sometimes unbelievable. But in such a good way. Like watching a plant go from a bud to full bloom. 

She felt like she had bloomed, or well-was in the process of blooming. And she had to thank volleyball for that. For bringing her to the people that helped her grow. 

“Hmmm,” Hinata hummed. He rubbed at his nose in thought. “Let’s do it after practice! ‘Cause I can’t eat and study at the same time. I’ll be way too focused on eating. Not so much on studying, haha.” 

Hinata and Yachi had grown close over the years. They’d been in the same class all three years, while Kageyama got placed in class with Yamaguchi and Tsukishima (much to Tsukishima’s unbridled annoyance and Yamaguchi’s unashamed delight). Hinata’s response made Yachi smile. She expected that to be the answer. And opened her planner so she could write down Studying with Hinata!! In her favorite blue gel pen. 

“Yachi you have so many pens and pencils and highlighters. Aren’t you overwhelmed?”

She slid her gel pen back into her pencil pouch purely for gel pens. “Oh! No not at all. I like having so many colors. I find it’s fun to pick and choose which one I want to use for notes.”

“Oh yeah! They’re kind of like, a mood ring, but not really. More like, mood… coloring? Something like that!” he finished with a laugh. And if it were anyone else in the world, Yachi might have felt like they said that just to humor her. But Hinata never said something he didn’t mean. He always spoke purely, from his heart. And that always made Yachi feel comfortable being her whole self. Illuminated in the glow that was Hinata Shouyou. 

I wish I could find an orange highlighter that’s the shade of his hair, she thought. “Mood coloring! Hm yeah, that makes sense! Because sometimes I really want to use a pink highlighter because I’m feeling that particular shade!” she pulled out a soft, rosey pink highlighter. The color of cotton candy and then slipped it back into the pouch. “Or sometimes I’m in a minty green kind of mood!” she pulled out another highlighter for reference. 

Hinata looked at her as if she was pulling out magical wands that sparkled and created starlights at their tips. “These are the coolest colors!” he reached for her hand, their fingers brushed. And as if she were shocked, she gasped. Dropping her highlighter to the table. It clattered softly onto her open notebook. “Ah, I’m sorry Yachi.” Hinata frowned, looking apologetic. 

“N-No!” she was quick to correct. He had to know that he wasn’t at fault. That the electricity generated that shocked her fingers and made her pulse quicken was a newly crafted design that had, like her blooming, steadily grown over the years to this moment. “It was just a little static shock as all! It happens, haha.” she reached for her highlighter. Her cheeks burned. 

In her journals, she had started writing out a name. And sometimes, that name had a few hearts beside it. 

She was terribly infatuated, she realized every time she stared down at the suddenly not so blank page covered in that name with so many hearts . 

Hinata fixed her with that same look he got when he was picking someone apart and wasn’t ashamed for you to realize he was doing so. It only lasted a second. Then, he was smiling again. A slow smile, and he leaned forward, his voice softer. 

“Can you show me where you get those highlighters? Maybe after school before we start studying?” 

Oh goodness is this a date? Her mind conjured with a swiftness. No! Hitoka! Do not jump to such conclusions! He’s your friend-one of your best friends. It’s just a friendly thing. And sure it’s happening on a date of the week but that doesn’t mean- 

“Yes!” she tapped her feet on the ground with excitement, nodding fervently. “Yes that’s perfect!”

“Great! Sounds good then!” 

Hinata jumped up just as his name was called. Kageyama was at the door. Hinata pointed a finger at him. “Kageyama! You came early! I’m ready to kick your ass if you’re ready to get your ass kicked!” 

“Stupid, I’m gonna win. Hi Yachi,” Kageyama waved at Yachi. Yachi beamed, waving in return. ”I’ve been stretching all morning during class. My long jump is going to beat yours hands. No. Legs down.”

Another thing Yachi had gained over the years was the ability to understand the secret language that was Hinata and Kageyama’s dynamic. Honestly, once you understood that they made a competition out of everything, filling in the gaps came easily after that. 

“What’s the competition this time?” Yachi chuckled, putting her planner back into her bag. 

“Kageyama and I are gonna see who has the best long jump!” Hinata explained. “I won last time but Kageyama’s a sore loser so we gotta do it again.” 

“I’m not! My legs weren’t at maximum stretch, that’s all.”

“What are you, Luffy? Are you going to try and find One Piece next?” Hinata asked, running through the classroom to get to Kageyama. Waving by to the students who called out to him as he did. 

The last thing Yachi heard as they left the classroom was Kageyma ask, “The fuck is a One Piece?” 

  /

  After practice, Yachi had a routine.

First, she gathered up all the balls with the help of her volleyball players and put them all away. Then, she took down the nets and rolled them up to be carried into the practice shed. She liked to imagine they were giant pieces of dough she was rolling up for cannolis. Afterwards she liked to clean the gym floors. She didn’t have to, but she wanted to. It was a nice feeling. Getting the giant mop and pushing it through the gym, up and down. She would pretend that she was in Mario Kart and her car was a giant, turbine-powered mop that could zoom lightning fast down the track! 

After she finished mopping, she would go through every single volleyball and squeeze it exactly six times (one for every letter of her name) to check the air pressure. If a volleyball was flat, she’d pump it up until it was all full and no flat. Sometimes, when she thought no one was looking (and she always checked her surroundings three times) she’d try to hit a few balls over the net. Over the years, she’d gotten better! And could not do a solid overhand serve with little to no effort. Her hand always tingled after the ball connected with her palm. But she rather liked the feeling. And she always clutched her palm tightly as if she were holding a fallen star in her hand. To make the sting hold on a little longer. To keep the moment from fading away… 

She threw another volleyball up in the air. Just to feel the tingle again. 

“YACHI, YOU’RE STILL HERE!”  

The ball dropped onto her head, sending a brief bout of pain down her neck and spine. “GAH!” the ball bounced onto the floor two… six… eight times before it rolled all the way to Hinata’s feet. “Ow! Ow! Ah… H-Hinata?” she felt heat swarm her neck and dominated her cheeks. Aw man.. She had hoped no one would have been around! 

Hinata leaned down and picked up the ball. Holding it out with one palm, grinning to himself. He walked over to Yachi and held the ball with two hands. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare ya! Were you practicing your serve? I can receive some if you want!”

“No! No no I was just… playing around, haha.” Hinata’s receives were really something to witness though. They were beautiful in their own way. How he moved with a sharpened, feral precision to meet the ball wherever it was aimed time and time again without fail. Yachi could never tear her eyes away from Hinata once he stepped on the court. 

He was her favorite player to watch. 

“Ah, another time then. Are you almost done here?”

“Almost! We’re still going to the store, right?” 

“Yeah! To get those highlighters you use! I wanna get like, thirty .” Hinata dropped the volleyball and started dribbling it with his knees. “Um wait. I should check my allowance first. But thirty would be nice.”

“We can do ten to start,” Yachi offered with a smile, watching Hinata play with the ball like it’s a part of him - a piece of his energy. “I already have a pack of mind.” 

She hoped she could find an orange highlighter while they were out too. One that was as bright as Hinata’s hair in the late afternoon sunlight that crept into the gym through the windows. Hinata smiled at her wide and the wind got knocked out of her. Her heart clenched fiercely and when Hinata put the ball away in the ball crate beside Yachi, she inhaled sharply. 

“Yachi, has anyone told you how you’re so... ?” Hinata’s not looking at her. His hands were deep in the ball crate as he put away the remaining volleyballs Yachi hadn’t finished storing yet. “What’s the word? Not just kind-which you are. But you’re so… oh!” he turned his head and it was like daybreak bloomed in that very moment. “Thoughtful. Like, the most thoughtful person I know cause you’re always considering and thinking about others-even for the smallest of things.”

The blood in Yachi roared. Her heart squeezed something terrible. Hinata was going on about how Yachi had so many thoughts about other people he wondered how anyone could ever feel lonely or forgotten when Yachi was there. To consider them and acknowledge them and give them space. He went on about how her brain must be so big because it carried so many thoughts and how her heart must be so large because it cared for people without hesitation. 

“It’s why you’re such a good manager!” Hinata said with a sense of finality to his words. “All these years you’ve been taking care of us and I speak for everyone-even Kageyama but he’s shy so he’ll never admit this-when I say you’re irreplaceable. One of a kin-are you crying?”

Yachi was, in fact, crying. Hot pools of tears that were flowing down her face without stopping. “Ah! I’m crying!” She gasped. No no no. Why was she crying? No, no her tears weren’t hormones going wild. Or from her usual bout of a fifteen minute stress cry followed by a forty five minute power walk that concluded with a ten minute ice cream break after. 

No, her tears were from the praises of sunlight Hinata had basked her in. 

She wiped at her face furiously, sniffling as she did. Hinata was fussing. Waving his arms around wildly. His face was as red and maybe as scorched as hers felt. 

“I’m sorry!!! I didn’t mean to compliment you to tears!”

“No it’s okay!!! I didn’t mean to cry from your compliments!!! They were very nice!”

“Do you need a tissue? I have a pack of two with cats on them that I use for Natsu sometimes!”

“Yes I’d like one of your packs of tissues you use for Natsu sometimes I also like cats!”

“Ok!” Hinata pulled out a pack of tissues, the ones with the cats on them, and handed them to Yachi.

She took the pack and a tissue to wipe at her eyes and blow her nose. She put the pack in one pocket and then the used tissue in the other-that she’d throw out later, of course. A beat of silence passed between them. Yachi glanced up shyly at Hinata. Hinata glanced down shyly at her. 

They both bursted out in laughter. 

“Let’s go to the store!” Hinata said. 

Yachi nodded, “To the store!” 

  /

“So you use post-it notes to take notes…”

“Sometimes! Or I’ll use it for book marks or to tab important sections to go back for review.”

“Huh,” Hinata said, holding up two packs of post-it notes. One had a stack of green, orange, and yellow. Another had a stack of blue, pink and purple. “I’ve always used them to make little paper frogs.” 

Yachi snorted. “Well that’s definitely a good use for it…” they had spent about an hour or so at the stationary store. 

Their game plan was to buy the highlighters so they could use it for their study session. But then Hinata got distracted looking at all the notebooks with designs on the cover. 

“A purple tiger! Wait, that’s Mahou Ranger Blue! WAIT A MINUTE IS THAT A COW?” 

And Yachi, of course, followed along. She pointed out some of her own favorites from the stack. A sunflower cover. A panda cover. And one special notebook that you could design the front yourself that came with a small pack of markers attached. 

Hinata then discovered the wonderful world of stickers and now, in the little basket Yachi had the sound mind to grab once Hinata started pulling object after object from the shelves, was filled with seven sticker packs, two notebooks, and three rolls of washi tape. 

“This place is so cool…” Hinata was awestruck as he dropped the post-it note packs with orange and yellow into the basket. “Do you come here often?”

“Sometimes,” Yachi tapped her fingers on the top of her knees. “When I need to restock. Or when I need to self-care and indulge. Or uh, when I’m bored.”

Hinata nodded several times, “I don’t even know where I’m going to put all those stickers… maybe on Kageyama and have him freak out about where they came from.”

“That would be very chaotic.”

“Hehe, right! Oh yeah, the highlighters. We didn’t get the highlighters!”

“They’re over there,” Yachi pointed at the aisle with a sign saying HIGHLIGHTERS written in bright colors. “There’s a whole section for them.”

“A WHOLE section,” he sounded like a kid in a candy store who was given permission to go wild. “Let’s go!” 

They went through every section of the highlighter aisle. Hinata was enamored by all the colors. “There’s ten shades of purple how is that even possible !” and “Wait this is literally the color of the sky I love this shade of blue!” and “Oh my God why would they make a highlighter that’s turd colored aren’t they ashamed? Don’t their parents love them?”

Yachi laughed so hard her sides hurt. Hinata was enjoyment incarnate. Being with him was fun, always. She never got bored or tired or felt like she had to work hard to fill in a space of silence when she was with Hinata. He made it feel like gaps were easier to fill. Like moments were more memorable. Like conversations just held more weight when Hinata Shouyou was on the other end of the line. 

She kept glancing at Hinata’s hair as he tested every single highlighter he could on the test paper. The bright mound of orange that looked like untamed fire. She wondered how soft it was. If he used any special type of shampoo. If he could tie it into a pony tail now because it had grown much, much longer since they were first years. She wondered if he would let her put it into a ponytail. She wondered if the gaps between her fingers would be wide enough for his hair to slide through as she curled her hands into his hair while they-

“Yachi look!” Hinata was holding up a yellow highlighter. He put it close enough to her face and stuck out his tongue in thought. Eyes narrowed in concentration and zeroed in right on her. Making Yachi stand a little straighter. “Oh yeah… this is the perfect shade.”

“The perfect shade for what?” 

“It matches your hair! This yellow, I mean.” Hinata explained. He took one of the test papers that was blank and ripped it out of the notebook. With a flick of his thumb, he uncapped the marker and drew a thick, bold line of yellow onto the page. “See? It’s just like your hair. Don’t ya think?”

Yachi’s fingers found themselves to the end of her ponytails. Pulling slightly so she could get a better look. She did a double take. Her heart skipped double beats. “Oh… it does. It does!” 

“Hehehe, I’m gonna get it.” he dropped the highlighter in the basket. The only highlighter out of all the ones he tested out. “Ok. Did you find a color yet?”

“You’re only getting… this one?” Yachi’s not sure how to take that. But then, it’s Hinata. He’s simply complicated sometimes. 

“Mhm. That’s the one. I like it the best.” and her mind filled in the blanks that weren’t there. Put in the puzzle pieces to fit so the conclusion was he liked that highlighter the best because it reminded him of her (hair color, her mind provided. Not you specifically. Does the distinction even matter! ). 

“Ah for me… I…” slowly, she kept walking down the aisle. Hinata trailing behind her. Head turning on either side, searching and gazing until-”Oh! That one!” she pointed at an orange highlighter at the top of the shelf. She stood on her tiptoes but her fingers were a few inches short. 

“Here,” Hinata was behind her. His chest to her back. His heat a warm blanket that drowned her in the fantasy of the shelves replaced by a kitchen counter and a cabinet. Their own little apartment instead of the stationary shop. Intimacy and familiarity humming between the small distance between their bodies. And Yachi would turn. Turn around and look up at Hinata and see the curve of his chin. See the slope of his collarbone that would slip into the crook of his shirt collar. And when Hinata would tilt down, and their eyes would meet, and Yachi would swoon because being so close she can drown in his scent. And she’d reach up onto her tip toes to-

“The highlighter,” Hinata’s heat was gone. The highlighter was now in her face while Hinata grinned. “My super reach was able to grab it no problems! Here ya go.”

An orange the color of Hinata’s hair. Where she could use it whenever she felt a yearning in her chest and could reach into her pencil pouch. Pull out the highlighter. And find words in one of her novels that made her heart twinge the same tune and level of longing she felt whenever she overheard Hinata’s laugh or had his smile directed at her. Her Hinata orange. 

She reached out to grab the pencil. Their fingers brushed briefly. A warm spark that went right to her toes. 

“Thank you,” she said, curling her fingers around the highlighter in a silent prayer before dropping it into the basket. “I’ve been looking for a shade like that for a long time. The right kind of orange!” her throat feels dry. Her chest is throbbing something horrible. 

“Oh? Why’s that?”

She thought about the yellow highlighter laying underneath the orange one in her basket. How Hinata said this is perfect - because it’s like your hair. She swallowed past the nerves in her throat. 

“It reminds me of… you. Your hair,” she quickly tacked on. 

Hinata doesn’t move. And that put her on alarm because Hinata was always moving. His stillness was a sign of the unexpected coming. 

And when it came, it stole the last remnants of her heart that was untouched by this feeling, taking control of her body and conquering it in the name of Hinata Shouyou.

His smile was bold and brilliant and bright. Wide as a watermelon. As dazzling as star bright. His face was red. Red to his cheeks and his chin and the tip of his nose-all red and covered in a blush. He laughed, and it was a little off kilter. A little high pitched in the middle but leveled off at the ends. 

“Yeah?” he rubbed at the bottom of his nose. “Heh...hehe…”

“Hehe...hehehe…”

“Hehehehehehe.”

“Heheheehehhee.”

  / 

  Yachi set down a tray of juice and some snacks on the table made after Hinata had pushed aside their revision materials to make space. She laughed, finding Hinata with his cheek smushed against the table. His eyebrows knitted so deeply together they’d probably become a blanket. 

“Hi. Are you tired?” she asked, kneeling on her pillow. 

“When I close my eyes all I see are multiplication signs and equal signs… it’s horrible!”

“Have you tried opening your eyes?”

“It’s no difference cause it’s right on the page!” 

They’d been studying for a good chunk of the evening. Nearly everyday after school they’d come back to Yachi’s place to study. Their exam was at the end of the month. And they had about another week or so to prepare. Yachi, thankfully, had notebooks organized and compiled by subject and tabbed accordingly by the topic of said subject ready to go for revision. Hinata had to play catch up. But Yachi had seen this coming. So she made brief, outlined notes for Hinata that he could use as a foundation to fill in the gaps. 

“Yachi…” Hinata had sniffled, clutching the review materials to his chest. “Yachi I’d die for you.”

“Please don’t!” Yachi waved her hands in front of her face frantically. “My 27th fear is being the cause of someone’s death!” 

The sun sat heavy and rested in the middle of the sky. After doing four rounds of twenty-five minutes on, they now could spend thirty minutes on a break. Something Hinata was incredibly happy about reaching. 

Yachi wiggled her toes in her socks, staring down at the crown of Hinata’s hair. I want to touch it. 

“Is it making sense?” she asked instead. 

“Mmmmm, slowly.” Hinata yawned. “I dunno if I have another twenty-five minutes in me though.”

“We did study a lot,” wiggle wiggle. “We could call it a day after we review that one problem you were struggling with?” she glanced towards her window. “So you can go home before it gets dark.” 

“Ughhhhhh,” Hinata pushed himself up to a sitting position. Raising his arms high above his head. Yachi caught a bit of his stomach peaking out from under his shirt and immediately shot her gaze back to their work. “Ok. That sounds good. Teach away, Yachi!”

So she did. She broke down the problem into walkable steps. And demonstrated the method for doing so. Hinata watched with the same intensity he had when he was watching someone pull off a move before he replicated it with near perfection shortly afterwards. He followed her pen strokes. Her pointing. And when she capped her orange highlighter to make an emphasis on one of the steps, he grinned. 

“Oh hey. Nice highlighter,” he reached behind him and pulled out from his back pocket his yellow highlighter. He tapped his highlighter against Yachi’s. “They look kinda cool together, don’t ya think? Like they compliment each other.”

We do, don’t we ? 

“Yeah,” Yachi replied dreamily. She snapped herself back into focus, though, before her thoughts went ahead of her. “Do you want to try the problem? If you get stuck on a step you can use your highlighter to mark it.”

“Good idea!” Hinata went to work. Face molded in concentration. His shoulders hunched. The hum of Yachi’s fan played in the background to the sound of Hinata scratching his notes down. She reached out for her drink. Hoping the sweetness of the lemonade would cool her thoughts. Of how often they were alone together. How her friends were always asking Hinata-san’s going home with you again, huh? And how many times she’d laugh it off and dimississ it saying We’re just studying! We’re just friends . 

Even when her heart would roar loudly in defiance: You want more. You’ve always wanted more. 

But how could she? 

They were graduating soon. Hinata was definitely heading into a world where their paths wouldn’t collide. Where they wouldn’t sit in adjacent rows. Where their friends weren’t down the hallways. Where they couldn’t grab lunch together and sneak out onto the roof. Hinata would surely go pro. There was no other option. And Yachi was going to college. This moment, in her room, where it’s her and Hinata and the fan buzzing and the drink in her hand with the ice slowly melting and the sun slinking lower and lower into the sky, this moment wasn’t forever. It was a finite piece of a giant vacuum that would swallow her whole at the idea that her days with Hinata were numbered. 

Numbered and disappearing at an alarming rate. 

“Am I right?”

Hinata’s question pulled Yachi from her thoughts. She blinked back the stinging in her eyes to glance down at his work. He had gotten it right. And her heart leapt with joy and pride at the sight. 

“Yup!” she held up her hands for a double high five that Hinata returned with a holler. 

“YEEEEEES!” 

“Just do that for the exam if you see a problem like that and you’ll be golden.”

“I will! You made it super simple to understand and do. If you weren’t such a badass with designs I’d say you could be a really good teacher, Yachi.”

“Ah, it’s nothing-”

“Hey. Don’t do that.”

“Huh?” Yachi stopped, mid tuck of putting a hair behind her ear. Wondering when she should get another trim for her split ends. “Do... Don’t do what?”

“Put yourself down,” Hinata pressed, leaning forward until their noses were almost touching. Yachi yelped and leaned back an inch. “You do that a lot. When I hype you up you hype yourself down. That’s not good.”

She knew she had a nasty habit of doing that. Of regulating herself to Villager B position. She’d been actively trying to not do that. And being in the club helped her cultivate a garden of confidence she could pick from whenever a new one bloomed. But every so often her habit came back. Innocuous and bitter. Never letting go.

“I’m sorry.”

“Don’t apologize either,” Hinata said softly, yet there was a firm seriousness to his voice as he did.  

The fan whirred on and on. 

Hinata kept his gaze on Yachi. She felt sweat form in her palms. She watched as his gaze searched hers and then, for a brief second, fell to her mouth. She gasped. Her nails curling in to dig at her palms. Her eyes widening as the dangerous, mischievous idea that maybe he was considering what her mouth tasted like. Currently, she’s mad at herself for not reapplying her vanilla shea butter chapstick when she had thought about it. And currently, she considered how the humidity in her room is making her shirt stick in the most uncomfortable places. On her neck and under her arm and to her stomach. 

Their noses were inches apart. 

If she tilted her head, she could-

Hinata’s phone rang. The theme song of the newest Super Sentai- Mahou Ranger -blared through her room. Hinata and Yachi froze. Until Hinata cursed and got up to turn answer his phone. 

“Terushima!” Hinata said upon answering. “Hello? Can I call you back? I'm in the middle of something? Huh? Wait, what? Bokuto is doing what ? Wait wait! Send pics and I’ll call you later about it! That’s epic-let him know! Ok bye!”

While he was on the phone, Yachi had a moment to ground herself. Had a moment to realize that she was, in fact, very close to having her first kiss. She slowly raised her finger tips to her lips. Ran the pads of her fingers along her bottom lip and pressed down. Wondering what the pressure of another person’s lips-of Hinata’s lips-would have felt like. 

“Yachi, are these the tissues I gave you a few weeks ago? You still have them?”

“Huh? Oh,” she saw the packet of tissues that Hinata was holding up. “Yeah. They’re cute! So I’ve been saving them for special blowing occasions.” saying that out loud was a lot more embarrassing than in her head, oh Lord. 

Hinata, however, found it hilarious. He laughed and placed it back on the table. “You’re right. They’re meant for the most epic of nose blows. That’s why they’re super soft! Absorbs all the snot!”

“Oh that’s gross,” Yachi said between laughter. Her heart was still racing. Her fingers tapped on the table with loose, uncontained excitement. She kept thinking what if, what if, what if . 

Maybe one day, she hoped rather hopelessly, she could see what world lied beyond the what if . 

But for now, she contented herself with watching Hinata sitting across from her. In the small space of her bedroom. Where the moments before their paths would diverge were tucked away in tiny pockets of her heart. 

  /

  “What’s that? Hinata you own a highlighter?”

“I didn’t even know you took notes.”

“Hey! I take notes!” Yachi was not so subtly listening into Hinata’s conversation a few desks away. She had been reworking training schedules for the team to do next week. Conditioning should be bumped down back to two days, and three days for strength work and other drills. She was about to bring out the markers to color code when she heard Hinata’s laughter. 

Her heart skipped a measure. Her fingers twitched. His laugh was, perhaps, one of the best things she’s ever been blessed to experience. Even when it wasn’t directed towards her. 

“When? All your notes are drawings, man.”

“It makes sense to me .” 

“Right, right!” 

“Well listen! Maybe I just needed a cool highlighter to keep me motivated.” 

“Yellow’s the most basic color there is…”

Ah! Man… that should not have made Yachi as bummed as it did. Well, they weren’t wrong, she supposed. Yellow was a basic color. Especially when there were other shades like purple or mint green or sky blue. Yellow… yellow just didn’t-

“This is the best shade of yellow there is.”

And there was something in the way that Hinata said that. So sure, so strong, and with enough passion someone would think he was defending his favorite tv show character. Yachi felt her heart soar. Then immediately felt silly for getting so excited over Hinata being an advocate for something silly like a highlighter. 

She glanced up secretly. Hoping to see what Hinata’s expression was like. Her heart stopped. Her breath hitched. 

Because Hinata was looking at her, too. 

If this were a shoujo manga, and Yachi’s read many of them, this would be the scene where the world disappears and the only thing left are their desks. Their eyes meet and around them is a frame of cherry blossoms and starlight. Of sparkles and an intense, hushed moment that’s meant to translate a moment shared between two people and two people only.

But this is the real world. The moment fleets and passes like a train rushing for its next stop. 

“I like this color,” Hinata said. Looking at her still. His face broke out into a sunny smile that hit Yachi right in the chest. “I like it a lot.” Then he twirled his highlighter around his fingers like a drummer and turned back to his friends. 

“What? Why were you looking at Yachi-san like that?”

“Haha, don’t worry about it!” Hinata turned the conversation onto asking if they’d seen the ending of Black Clover yet. 

There was a loud, pulsing sound. That roared and demanded attention. That swallowed Yachi’s entire body whole. She felt like one, large, heartbeat. Her cheeks were flamed and her fingers were jittery. 

She looked back down at her notes. Staring at the blue marker she was planning to use for color coding. She put it away and brought out the orange highlighter instead. The one she’d bought with Hinata. 

With a slow, measured stroke, she brought the highlighter across the first word on the page. 

CONDITIONING - LED BY HINATA SHOUYOU. 

  /

  Yachi felt like death. 

Madoka, her mother, knelt beside her bedside. “You’re so warm, dear. Are you sure you want me to go to work?” she frowned. “I can stay home.”

While Yachi would want nothing more than her mother to stay. To taste some of her mother’s food. To feel the continued cooling comfort of her palm pressed to her forehead. She couldn’t. Her mom had a project presentation coming up soon that had her working longer hours. Yachi knew how excited her mother was to show off her latest work. If she missed a day something could go wrong… and Yachi would feel even worse if that happened because of her.

“It’s ok, mama.” Yachi wiggled herself out of her blanket enough for her face to show. Her cheeks were red and flushed. Her body felt sluggish but she put on the best smile she could. “I just need to sleep some more. I’ll be ok! You go to work.”

“Are you sure?”

“Super sure,” she reached up to touch her mother’s hand. Gave it a squeeze. 

Her mom still didn’t seem convinced. But after a few moments she sighed and got up from the floor. “Alright,” she adjusted her bag and leaned forward to press a kiss on Yachi’s cheek. “Try eating the porridge I made for you if you can! I put all my love in it.” another kiss. “Text or call if you need anything, Hitoka!”

Her mom left for work shortly after. Yachi pulled the blanket back over her head. Oh, she hated being sick. It was such an unpleasant time. Not only was she unable to do work, but her body felt blegh all over. Her nose would keep running. Her eyes never stopped watering. And when she coughed she could feel her whole lungs shake like old rafters in an attic. 

She also hated being sick because she couldn’t see Hinata…

The other managers and a few of the players had sent her get well text messages once they found out she was out sick today. And memes, a lot of memes. She felt good, to be considered. It was nice when people remembered you in your absence. When you not being there meant just as much as you being there. That they even considered reaching out at all had made her all gooey! 

And then Hinata had texted her. And her heart exploded. 

  Hinata: YACHI WHY AREN’T YOU HERE!!

Yachi: I’m sick lol! But it’s just a cold tho!!! I should be better by tomorrow so no worries!!!! 

Hinata: OH NOOOOOOO Hinata: YOU BETTER FEEL BETTER SOON OR ELSE!!!

Hinata: I’m beating up your antibodies as we SPEAK!

Hinata: Wait Tsukishima just told me if I did that you’d die so I’m actually beating up your VIRUS 

  Hinata never failed to make her laugh. Even when it ended with a slight cough that made her more tired afterwards. 

She slept most of the day away. Getting up once to eat her mom’s porridge. It was yummy, because her mom made it. She checked in with her fellow managers. Seeing how practice went. They both told her it went fine, and that her main focus should be rest. 

  Miyuchan: [PICTURE OF HINATA MID JUMP] Hinata-senpai’s in good form today hehehe… Sorachan: [VIDEO OF HINATA TURNING TO THE CAMERA, WAVING] when i said your name he turned and waved!! Said it was just for you :) 

  Yachi’s entire face exploded with heat afterwards. She chucked her phone and ducked under the covers like a caterpillar. “Waaaaaaah! WAAAAAAAH! He looked so good today and I missed it!!! MUCUS DRY UP! COUGH GO AWAY!!!” 

She kicked her feet up and down and buried her head into the pillow. Ah, she really had it bad. When did it ever get this way, though? When had she even started to like him? When had that happened?

Maybe it was gradual. A steady rising. That just built up and up over time until she finally couldn’t ignore it anymore. Maybe it was the natural progression of things. When Hinata was so warm and open and understanding. When his sunlight was so attractive and welcoming that stepping to bask in its glow just wasn’t that weird of a thing to do. 

But now she thought about what wedding colors she’d have her bridesmaids wear at their wedding and what to do if Godzilla attacked that day and they had to get married within his stomach after being eaten and that was the thought that sent her back to sleep. 

When she woke up, the sun had set. 

She rose slowly, rubbing the sleep from her eyes. “Ah, I slept for too long…”

“Morning, sleepyhead.”

“Morning Hinata…” . . . “HINATA?”

Hinata sat by her bed with the chair she usually had placed at her desk. He was all grins and laughter. “Haha, hey! Yeah, it’s me. I wanted to come see ya.”

“You… did?” 

“Yup! Your mom let me in. She wanted to let you know that she went OVERDRIVE with work today and finished enough so she could come back and see if you needed anything! We bumped into each other at the convenience store when I was getting you..” he reached into his bag and pulled out a pack of Fugashi. Her absolute favorite. 

She was going to cry. She’d blame it on the cold. 

“Hinata you didn’t have to get me anything! Just you here is uh,” she wanted to say that nothing was sweeter than time with Hinata. And nothing was more delicious than Hinata, in general. But instead settled with, “it’s good. It’s a pleasant surprise. Everyone really!” she quickly added. “I’ve gotten so many texts today from the team and our friends… feeling cared by you all made me feel a million times better!” 

Hinata still placed the bag of snacks on her bed beside her. And scooted the chair until he was right by her. He fixed her with a serious glance that made her want to fidget. But then he just broke out into his usual smile. 

“Well duh. Of course we’d check in on you! You’re important to us after all.”

“Hehe… yeah,” she rubbed at her cheek. “It’s nice to be reminded of that, I guess. You know?”

“Yeah, I get it.” he nodded several times for emphasis and then jumped as if he was struck by lightning. “Oh yeah! I almost forgot.” he reached into his bag again and pulled out a notebook. “I took notes! For you. Well, for me too but these are the ones I did for you specifically.”

She took the notebook from his hands. Flipping through the pages to find scrawled onto the paper notes. Organized and then explained why they were organized the way they were with doodles and boxes and arrows. It was all very Hinata. Yachi felt like she was getting a sneak peek into the inner workings of his brain. Which was cute. But what really made the notes was on the last page. Where he had written in big letters: KEY - IMPORTANT INFORMATION HIGHLIGHTED WITH YACHI YELLOW! 

This was the moment where she fell. 

If like was the diving board, love was the pool. And she fell into its waters. Got consumed by its waves. 

She liked him. Maybe even loved him. Infinitely so. The heat of her fever chilled in comparison to the overwhelming warmth and adoration she had for him in this moment. 

She pressed the notebook to her chest. Feeling the corners of her eyes sting. “These are the best notes I’ve ever received… thank you.” Yachi kept her eyes on Hinata. Who looked so pleased and elated and ecstatic-his entire face glowing from the praise. “And thank you for coming to see me.” 

“Of course, Yachi!” he reached out to grab her hand. Gave it a squeeze. And then ruffled her hair before he got up. “If you have any questions about the notes, gimmie a text! And I’ll see you in class tomorrow, ok? You better come! Or else I’m bringing you there myself!” 

“Yeah! Tomorrow,” she grinned. So hard her cheeks hurt. 

Later that night, after Hinata had left. Her mom came to find her later. Madoka sat at the end of Yachi’s bed. While Yachi sat propped against her headboard. Fingers running through every word Hinata had written for our. Making sure to linger extra long on the highlighted phrases. So much so her index finger had highlighter smudges on it. 

“I think he likes you,” her mom had said after a few moments. 

Yachi whipped up her head, “Did he say something? Did he! Mama you can’t say that and then not explain!”

Her mother laughed, “You didn’t give me a chance to! No, Hitoka. He didn’t say anything directly. But I know attraction when I see it.” she lowered her eyes, a sly expression on her face as she regarded Yachi. “Something tells me it’s not so one-sided on his part…” 

Yachi papped her cheeks, rubbing in small circles. “Ah… is it noticeable?”

“A bit,” she leaned forward to kiss Yachi on the forehead. “I approve, by the way. If he ever wants to come over for dinner let him know he’s more than welcomed! Also! Did you guys kiss? I hope you didn’t since you could pass your cold to him but if you did -”

“MAAAAMAAAAAA!” 

“Just teasing!” 

  /

  It was one thing to know you liked someone.

It was another thing altogether to act upon it. 

Yachi had definitely grown in her courage stat over her high school career. She didn’t hesitate to strike up a conversation. She didn’t question, as much and as aggressively, her place in the world. She raised her voice and led proudly during every practice session with her managers. She even looked forward to volunteering in class. 

But love? Romance? She had zero stats in that section at all.

Most of her knowledge came from otome games and shoujo mangas. And the occasional evening drama she and her mama would watch when her mama had a day off. 

Real life experience? Zero. 

How did people even confess to their crushes?

“I could write him a note,” she thought, sipping on her strawberry milk in class during lunch. “Or um… write him a song? I can’t sing well though. Maybe I should get someone else to sing it? But what if he thinks the person who’s singing the song to him is crushing on him and he falls in love with them and then they get engaged right in front of me I would have to simply pass awa-”

“What are you talking about, Yachi? It sounds stressful?”

“Hinata!” Of course he’d appear as she rambled herself into oblivion. So embarrassing. “Oh, nothing. I was just getting in my head a bit.”

“Well I hope you can get out of your head soon enough cause look!” Hinata held up his test score papers. They weren’t the best but they weren’t failures. He actually hit much higher than his usual exam results. With scores ranging well within the 60s and 70s. “I passed! Our study sessions worked!”

“Oh that’s so great Hinata! I knew you could do it! I’m so proud.”

“Hehehehehe, it’s all thanks to your wonderful teaching! Hey, as thanks. We’re gonna go out after school ok? Since we don’t have practice we can like, go get something to eat.” 

Like a date? Her brain supplied traitorously. “Something to eat sounds good. But you really don’t have to treat me. It was no trouble at all tutoring you.”

“I want to do this,” Hinata pressed. Firm and resolute. Once Hinata got set with an idea, it was hard to change his mind. Stubbornness was imprinted within his DNA-Yachi was sure of it. 

“Ok,” she agreed, nodding. Smiling, she added, “We can meet by the gym?”

“The gyms perfect! It’s a-” before he could finish Kageyama’s voice called out from the doorway. 

“Hinata! Melon bread is on sale today. Last one to the cafeteria sucks!” and then he booked it. 

“YOU DIRTY CHEATER, KAGEYAMA!” Hinata hollered. The classmates around them laughed. Yachi wondered what Hinata was going to say after that. But before she could ask Hinata turned to her, slapping his hands on her desk.

“The gym!” he pressed, looking her right in the eye. 

She nodded, “The gym. Go! Melon bread!” she stuck out her orange highlighter. Hinata blinked down at it for a second, then grinned. He reached into his back pocket and pulled out his yellow highlighter. He tapped his against hers. 

“I’M COMING FOR YOU MELON BREAD!” Hinata roared before he tore out of the classroom like a hurricane on a mission. 

Yachi stared at her highlighter like it was a rare jewel. She clutched it to her chest, where her heart was beating madly. 

“Thank you so much for existing,” she whispered. 

The rest of the day went by in a blur. 

Yachi barely remembered what occurred in her lessons. But that wasn’t really important. What mattered was after school. It was rare that they didn’t have practice. But Ukai-sensei wanted to give the team a good rest after their last practice match with Nekoma.

“You guys aren’t even allowed to think about a volleyball,” Ukai-sensei had warned. “If I find out you’re even touching one? Laps! Laps for days!” 

Yachi was surprised Hinata wasn’t attempting to sneak off with Kageyama somewhere far, far away to go practice out of sight from their coach. But she’s incredibly happy he isn’t. 

“Yachi!” 

Yachi’s heart skipped a beat as Hinata stopped by her with his bike. She hopped off the steps to meet him. “Hinata! Hi! Nice bike!”

“Thanks! Wait check this out,” he rang the bell several times. It’s chime declared to anyone who could hear it. “It’s the Mahou Ranger theme song. I learned it last week with Terushima!” 

“It’s fine! Um,” she stared at the bike, looking left and right to find another seat. “Are we going on that together?”

“Yeah! Is that cool?”

Was that cool? She’s read shoujo manga after shoujo manga depicting this very scene and they still hadn’t prepared her for this moment. She swallowed thickly. 

“Yup! It’s cool. I won’t fall, right?” she attempted a laugh at the end. Something light to make her heart settle and her palms sweat less. (Do her armpits smell? Would he even notice if they did? No no, her armpits were fine ). 

Hinata grinned lopsidedly, “If you hold on tight you won’t even wobble.”

Oh Yachi’s gonna hurl. 

Once Yachi’s on the bike, and her arms are secured around Hinata’s middle, it’s a whole other experience. A thousand manga panels couldn’t capture the feeling of having her chest pressed to his back. Having her cheek against his shoulder. Seeing and meeting Hinata’s eyes everytime he glanced back to see if she was ok. 

“I’m a safe driver!”

“I think we broke the sound barrier a bit!”

“Yeah but safely !” 

She’s laughed more on the bike ride than she had all day. And she may have held on a little tighter. Squeezed and took advantage of the closeness a little more than she should. But she wanted to indulge in a little greediness. Take a bit more than what she usually would have. In case this moment was the last. In case she’d never get to feel him like this again. 

They ate first. At a ramen shop downtown. The noodles were soft and the soup was so warm! Yachi slurped up her entire bowl. Messily and all. They talked about everything. School and their current, favorite TV shows. They exchanged music recommendations and talked about the future. 

“I think I want to go abroad,” Hinata mentioned as they sat by the riverbank after dinner. 

The back of Yachi’s neck went cold. “Oh yeah?” she tried not to think about how abroad meant far away and not near here. Because these were his dreams, not hers. And above all Yachi wanted to support Hinata and his journey with every fibre of her being. No matter where that took him. Even if she couldn’t support him by his side. “That’s amazing! Do you have a place in mind?”

“A few!” Hinata hummed. “I’m still weighing the options. I wanna go somewhere warm though. With a nice beach… I’d love to play some beach volleyball!”

“I’d worry about the sand in my toes,” Yachi laughed. “I get sand everywhere when I go to the beach. It’s really unpleasant.”

The sun was beginning to set. Sitting heavy and content upon the horizon. A mix of oranges and yellows and quiet pinks and rueful purples. Yachi focused her eyes on the river. And made her brain think about how far it reached. How the river would probably go to the ocean. And how the ocean, despite being divided into seven parts, was really all connected at the end. And maybe, that could be them. Divided, but connected. 

“Ah yeah?” Hinata said. “Well, the sand would definitely need some getting used to. If you visit a lot though, you’d get used to all the sand, wouldn’t you think?” 

If you visit a lot . She had to know what that meant. Because the hope that rose in her chest and took root in her heart and was threatening to dominate her being was too much. Too great. And too burdensome to end in a deflation of a what if, or a failed expectation. 

“You’d want me to come see you?”

“Yeah of course,” Hinata was staring at the bank too. And then he turned to look at her. And she met him in return. As she always would. “I like you. So I wanna see you. Even when we graduate.”

“I mean of course we’d see each other after we graduate! I dunno if I could visit all the time because of college but maybe long breaks or something could work.” She’d completely blown by his first admission. Her brain was already trying to envision summer and fall and winter breaks and a trip. She had to balance finding an internship too. So maybe she could coordinate something with whatever company she ended up interning at. Hopefully they’d be lenient. She’s never traveled abroad either. So maybe she could call up Kiyoko-senpai or-

“Yachi get out of your head.” 

Suddenly, Hinata was in her space. Eyes intense and lips pulled into a frown. Yachi’s instincts told her to move away but her heart told her to remain rooted. 

“Hi,” she said quietly.

Hinata searched her face for countless seconds, “Yachi. Did you hear what I said? The first thing?”

“Yeah of course.” she responded. Then giggles. “Oh, that sounds like I’m responding to you but no I mean I’m just repeating.”

“No, after that. Think,” Hinata was so so close. And with the sunset coating him like a blanket, making his orange hair stand out even more, and his orange, golden eyes glow, she wondered if he’d keep his hair that long. Or if he’d cut it. And she wondered if she could touch it before they graduated. And she wondered if her mother was right, and he did like her. And she-

Oh. 

“You like me.” it hit her like a freight train. Her entire body was covered in a dawning blush. The electricity and tingling of the realization went right down to her toes. 

Hinata broke out into a brilliant smile. “Yes!” he laughed, head thrown back. The sound bounced all over the little world they were building of just her and Hinata. Only two. “Oh my God. I was worried you didn’t like me at first and that was your way of rejecting me. WAIT!” He whipped his head back, eyes wide with panic. “Do you like me? I mean, it’s okay if you don’t I’ll survive but if you did and I missed that you should say it again or if you haven’t said-”

“I like you,” Yachi blurted out. Because once the words had a reason to be alive. Had a reason to be born. Could be freed from the prisons of her mind and delivered safely with her heart to his hands-she had to say it. Here on the riverbank where the wet grass would surely leave stains on her skirt. But she didn’t care. Because she had to say it. 

“I like you so much,” Yachi continued. Flowing like the river below them. “So much it hurts. So much I really, really want to kiss you.”

Hinata took her lips in the softest kiss. One that made her sigh and her eyelashes flutter. One that made her feel so seen and heard and alive and broken apart and undone and melting all at once. 

It was her first kiss. And it made her want several more afterwards. 

Once they broke apart, Hinata pressed his forehead to hers. Yachi curled her fingers around the back of his neck. Allowed herself the blessing of playing with his hair at the nape of his neck. Biting her lip, she glanced up at him through her eyelashes. He was smiling at her. His cheeks flushed red-probably burning as much as hers were at the moment. He laughed, and pressed a kiss to the tip of her nose. 

“Me too,” he whispered against her skin. “I like you so much I'm gonna explode, haha.”

  /

   “Can I say something? It’s kinda cheesy,” Hinata started as they biked home. 

“Mhm,” Yachi hummed, nuzzled against his shoulder. 

“I think of you every time I use that highlighter. The yellow one. It’s the only highlighter I’ve ever owned. And it’s probably gonna stay the only highlighter I ever have. Is that weird?” he looked back sheepishly and chuckled. 

Yachi laughed, shaking her head. “No not at all. I got that orange highlighter because it reminded me of you, after all. Or well, your hair specifically. But you, by extension.”

“What do you like more. Me, or my hair?”

“Hmm… that’s a tough question… Can you get back to me on that?”

“No! Yachi! You have to answer right now! Wait,” he stopped the bike by a lamppost. Hopping off, he held out his hands for her to take like she was getting off a carriage. She flushed, giggling, and hopped off with his hands in hers. “I forgot something.”

“Did you leave something behind at the riverbank?” she hoped not. They could go back and look for whatever he’d lost, but it was dark now. And any luck would be wasted right now. She’d try though, if that’s what- 

“Oh, no! No that’s fine. I just. I realized I didn’t-AHHHH!” he shook his head several times like he was scaring away the ghosts in the attic. “Yachi Hitoka! Will you be my girlfriend please?” he yelled for as loud as the neighborhood could hear. “I know I’ll be leaving and we’ll be far apart for a while but I like you a lot! I like you so much! I’ll call you every night! I’ll wish you good morning and good night! I’ll send you pictures of my sandy feet! I want to share everything about this new world I’m going into and I hope you want to do the same! So please consider me as your boyfriend, thank you!” 

Hinata Shouyou was a bag of surprises. When she thought she had him figured out, Hinata just threw Yachi for a loop. 

But that’s what made her drawn to him. That’s what made her like him. 

“Yes!” she yelled, just as loud. Surely the neighbors would wake up but she didn’t care. “Hinata Shouyou I want to be your girlfriend! I want you to be my boyfriend and show me your sandy feet and I’ll show you my not sandy feet! I want to call you all the time! I want to support you on your journey even when we’re oceans apart! I want to continue being with you for as long as I can! I like you! I accept! Be my boyfriend, please!”

Hinata cupped her face and leaned in for another kiss.

Under the flickering lamp post on a late, spring evening where their final days were drawing in. 

But their first moments, together, were only beginning.

[officialleehadan]

Firebrand Burning

Hello darlings! I hope you've all had a lovely day so far!

Today's story was brought to you by Kriggens! Darling, thank you so much for all your support! I hope you love it!

Prompt: HGE - Local Librarian

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Laure was angry.

Not for herself, or not entirely for herself, but for her vampires. For the peaceful lives this unknown attacker was shaping apart. At the deity whose blood she apparently shared that mad her a prize that a vampire would risk terrible war to possess.

She was also a librarian, with access to a very fine collection of books on a topic she knew so well she had written her dissertation on it.

It was time to show the world what an angry research librarian could really do with the right motivation.

It was time to dive into the rabbit hole.

“…Do we want to know what you’re doing?” Victor asked when he stepped into Teucer’s library to discover Laure with more than a dozen books spread out on the floor around her, two laptops open, and most of a notebook eaten by notes. “I heard that you sent Teucer’s oldest off to collect your personal books from your house. What are you up to?”

“Remus was nice enough to offer when I told Teucer that I needed a few things from home if we’re planning to stay any longer,” Laure told him without looking up. Her hair was in a messy bun held with two pens and a pencil, and there was a stripe of bright pink highlighter across her cheek, although the marker itself was nowhere to be seen. “Do we have any powdered silver in the penthouse?”

“Uh, probably?” Victor asked, taken aback by the non sequitur. Laure leaned over and dug for another book, pulled one of the pens out of her hair, and started taking quick, dirty notes in her notebook. “Why do you need powdered silver?”

“Because mercury is super toxic,” Laure told him, ripped a page out of her notebook, and handed it over. Her eyes burned from spending hours hunched over the ancient books in four languages, only three of which she read well, cross-referencing and translating. “But powdered silver is supposed to be a reasonably good substitute. I called Wylkind. He’s sending me a spur of demon bone. Do you think that the tomia on a goose’s tongue and beak will substitute for hen’s teeth?”

“Not well,” Bai said as he stepped into the library, took in Laure’s chaos of a work-space, Victor’s baffled face, and settled himself on the couch well out of Laure’s way. “Why do you need hen’s teeth?”

“I need either djinn glass or a dragon’s tooth, too,” she told him as if she wasn’t halfway to speaking in tongues. When she realized they were both staring at her, she sighed and nodded to the sheet she had handed Victor. He looked down at it, and raised an eyebrow at her, apparently impressed despite his confusion. “I’m the blood of a deity, right? Well, it’s about time that started working for us. I’m casting a spell.”

“Everything on this list is either fire-oriented, or is an amplifier,” Victor said when he had skimmed over the list and handed it off to Bai. “Why are you digging for fire magic?”

“Because there are two places a shadow can’t go,” Laure said with an angry edge to her voice that made both vampires look at her strangely. “In a snowstorm, or in the heart of a fire. Everything I’ve read about Brigid says that there should be plenty of fire in my blood, so that’s what I’m going for.”

“This is about the attack from the other night,” Victor realized without much surprise. He sank down onto the chair closest to Laure, his face serious. “We aren’t going to let anything happen. Now that we know how far they’re willing to go to get you, we can defend against it.”

“Or I can defend myself,” she snapped back, and softened at the hurt that flashed across his eyes. She winced. She hadn’t meant to hurt her friend. “I’m sorry. I’m stressed out, and I’m scared, and I’m angry, and I’m tired of being helpless.”

“With good reason,” Bai told her, still calm and steady, his ever-present serenity a balm on her frayed nerves. He offered her page back to her and Laure tucked it back into her notebook. “You fear the shadows will return?”

“I think I’ve had the same dream of them trying to get me outside every night since the first one,” Laure revealed tiredly. She felt ragged inside. The shadows couldn’t touch her, not with Teucer’s spell-dust protecting the penthouse, but she could still feel them trying to get in. It was like hearing rats in the walls, every-present and all around her, desperate to eat her alive. “and I think I’m tired of hiding. It’s about time that whoever’s after me finds out that I’m not just going to shrivel up and die because I got a bad scare.”

They were quiet for a while, and Laure felt the weight of their ancient regard on her shoulders. She looked down at her notes, and crushed her fear down into a little box where it was manageable.

“Right,” Victor said at last, and straightened. “Bai, would you grab Teucer and Draco? We’re all of us fine students of magic. If we can’t turn our librarian into a living firebrand while we wait of the Covens to arrive, we aren’t giving this half the effort it deserves.”

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HGE - Local Librarian:

Laure is an overworked doctorate student. Her best friend is living history, and thinks of her museum as his own personal vault. Gift of a Rose Curse-Bound Leather Bloody Stress Flip the Page (Subscriber Only!) Luxury Flight (Subscriber Only!) Hotel of Memories Ancient and Old (Subscriber only!) Hearth Not Home (Subscriber Only!) Of the Hearth (Free on Patreon!) From the Earth (Subscriber Only!) Ring Panic (Subscriber Only!)   Red Gems Black Stone (Subscriber Only!) Unexpected Ally (Free on Patreon!) The Words of History (Subscriber Only!) A Bit of History (Free on Patreon!) Enemies Old and Gone (Subscriber Only!) Third Brother (Subscriber Only!) Folding History (Subscriber Only!) At War by Moonlight (Subscriber Only!) Firebrand Burning

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MASTERLIST

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