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killerelysia · 2 days ago

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Pardonnez-moi, Monsieur!- Solivan brugmansia x Yan!G.N Reader! (Part 4!)

The kid at the back is a 18+ visual novel Minors don't interact!

Words: 10276

Genre: Yandere-(Self aware yandere won the poll)

(Reader is G.N)

Summary: You’ve become consumed by your obsession with Solivan Brugmansia. What started as innocent curiosity quickly spiraled into a fixation. He started it and you began to stalk him, learning every detail about his life. You felt a sick sense of satisfaction in making Sol’s world safer while growing increasingly delusional about your connection with him. Your love for him deepens as you fantasize about the future, convinced that you are the one who truly understands him—better than anyone else. Despite the line between reality and obsession blurring, you remain certain: Sol is yours, even if he doesn’t know it yet.. You're his and he's yours...

Trigger Warning: This content contains themes of obsessive behavior, stalking, manipulation, mental instability, and delusional thinking, Drugging, Yandere?, Hopeless in love for attention Please read with caution.

Obsessive behavior: The reader becomes dangerously fixated on someone, bordering on stalking and delusion.

Manipulation: The reader engages in schemes to control or harm others, often through deception.

Mental illness: Delusional thinking, possible dissociation from reality, and unhealthy fixation on someone.

Violence: There are references to bullying, physical harm, and emotional manipulation.

Emotional abuse: Both in terms of how the protagonist manipulates others and how they might internalize toxic behaviors.

Stalking: The reader watches and follows the person they are obsessed with.

EXTRA: He's a character from a game named The kid at the back!! Note, The relationship presented here between sol and reader is extremely toxic!! In no way, Just because I'm writing doesn't mean I support this kind of toxicity. Note, It's okay to like sol if you know the flaws and don't be a blind eye on them! Again, I don't support his actions etc! If you hate sol ignore this.

Than to love and be loved by me.

The one who loves.

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

I was a child she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea.

DAY 2: THE KINGDOM

The next day, Your usual seat at the front wasn’t even a consideration today; you made a beeline for the back corner, far from prying eyes—and far from Crowe. Your heart sank when you saw him glance up from his seat, his expression brightening momentarily at the sight of you.

But you didn’t meet his gaze.

You sat down quietly, pulling out your sketchbook and notebook, placing them on the desk like a shield. Your hands trembled slightly as you flipped to a blank page, picking up your pencil to sketch. The familiar motions grounded you, the lines and curves forming shapes, the gentle pressure of graphite against paper drowning out the world....

Crowe stood a few desks away, watching you with furrowed brows. He hesitated, then started toward you. His voice was soft, careful. “Y/n…”

You didn’t respond. Instead, you pretended to be engrossed in your notebook, scribbling down the professor’s words as the lecture began. Your focus was split between the notes and the growing sketch in your sketchbook—a vague outline of Sol’s silhouette, his familiar posture, his distinct, sharp features.

Crowe lingered near your desk, shuffling awkwardly. "Hey, can we—"

You turned a page in your notebook with a deliberate flick, effectively cutting him off without a word. He exhaled sharply, a hint of frustration creeping into his voice.

“Y/n, please, just—”

Still nothing.

The room began to fill with whispers as students noticed the exchange. Embarrassed, Crowe finally moved back to his seat. But even as he sat down, you could feel his eyes on you, a weight pressing on your shoulders. You swallowed hard, your pencil pausing mid-stroke.

You were sorry.

Sorry for ignoring him, for pushing him away, for the cold shoulder and the distance you’d built brick by brick. But it had to be this way. It had to. Crowe didn’t belong in this part of your life, in the chaos you were creating for yourself. He deserved better—better than being tangled in the web of your obsession with Sol.

You kept your head down for the rest of the lecture, focusing solely on your sketch and notes. You poured your feelings into the page, the drawing of Sol becoming more vivid, more alive with every stroke. It was as if he were there with you, his gaze pulling you in, his lips curved in that faint, elusive smile that haunted your dreams.

The professor dismissed the class, and students began to file out. You stayed in your seat, pretending to organize your things. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Crowe hesitate near the door, glancing back at you one last time. His expression was a mix of worry and resignation.

Your chest tightened painfully. You wanted to look at him, to say something, to explain. But you didn’t.

Instead, you kept your eyes on your sketchbook, shading in the smallest details, your lips pressing into a thin line. You heard his footsteps fade away, and the classroom grew silent. Only then did you let out a shaky breath, your fingers trembling as they gripped your pencil.

"I'm sorry, Crowe," you whispered to yourself, the words barely audible.

But you didn’t stop drawing. You couldn’t. Sol’s face stared back at you from the page, his crimson-orange eyes boring into yours. You smiled faintly, brushing your fingers over the drawing.

For now, this was enough.

The words echoed in your head as you stirred awake, the remnants of an uneasy dream slipping through your fingers like grains of sand.

"If you don't pay up, we will have to take your land."

It was a haunting phrase, one tied to memories you didn’t care to revisit.

You felt someone shaking you gently, pulling you back to the present. Bleary-eyed, you blinked up at the figure looming over you.

“Does that mean we can talk now?”

The voice was unmistakable. Your vision cleared, revealing Crowe's concerned face staring back at you. For the love of everything, him again.

“No,” you snapped, your voice sharper than you intended. You sat up fully, brushing off his presence like an unwanted pest. “Leave me alone.”

“Why are you—”

You didn’t give him a chance to finish. Pushing past him with enough force to make him stumble, you stormed off.

The hall was already bustling with students, and you moved through the crowd with purpose. Brittney and Deryl stood near the lockers, their animated chatter ceasing as you passed. Geo, leaning against the wall, caught your gaze with a sneer. His lips curled into a silent judgment, his expression screaming disgust.

You paused for the briefest moment, flashing him a sharp smile. And just for good measure, you stuck out your tongue before continuing down the hallway. You didn’t care what they thought—not Geo, not Brittney, not Deryl. Not even Crowe.

Except… Crowe was still following.

You glanced over your shoulder. His pace was slower now, his shoulders slumped, his expression weighed down by something you didn’t want to name.

Why won’t he stop?

You reached your destination, you slowed your steps and pulled out your phone, pretending to be engrossed in the screen. In truth, you weren’t checking messages or scrolling through feeds. You were just avoiding the noise—the whispers, the stares, the weight of Crowe’s gaze.

Lunch.

Your stomach twisted as you realized you hadn’t brought anything to eat. Of course, you hadn’t. You never did anymore, not since you left your lunch box at the vent.

You tensed, gripping your phone tighter. The vent was closed now. There was no way to check out Sol anymore.

No way to be near him without making it obvious.

You stood frozen for a moment, debating your next move. You couldn’t go back to the cafeteria, not with those faces staring at you. And you certainly couldn’t go to Crowe.

You took a shaky breath and turned, heading toward an empty corner of the school. Anywhere but here. Anywhere but them.

You didn’t care. No, you really didn’t. Or at least, that’s what you told yourself as you moved through the hall like a ghost, your thoughts fragmented and chaotic.

Join Sol

Call Sol over

Stay with the fucking group

And then you saw him.

Sol.

He was stepping out of a classroom, his silhouette catching the dim light like it was crafted to stop your heart. For a second, you were frozen. But then you noticed someone trailing after him—a familiar face.

Hyugo.

That rascal. The carefree little mischief who somehow always seemed to be hanging around Sol like a bored puppy. Hyugo looked as if he’d rather be anywhere else, his hands in his pockets, expression betraying his boredom.

You couldn’t help it; your gaze locked onto Sol, and your heart practically burst with excitement. It was too much—your steps quickened, and for a second, an impulse hit you like a lightning strike:

Run. Hug him. Surprise him.

But reality hit harder.

That’s fucking creepy! What the hell is wrong with you?!

Your pace slowed, and you adjusted course, pretending to act casual. A flood of emotions hit you as you walked closer to Sol: adoration, longing, frustration. You were caught between running away and running straight to him, but there was no stopping now.

Sol’s eyes shifted, catching sight of you. He stopped mid-conversation, his focus zeroing in on you like a heat-seeking missile. His expression remained calm, unreadable as always, but you knew he’d noticed you.

Beside him, Hyugo also turned, noticing Sol’s distraction. His gaze followed, landing on you. For a brief second, his eyes were dark, calculating. But then, his lips curled into a smile. A smile that didn’t quite meet his eyes.

Threatening.

The moment replayed in your mind —his voice, the subtle threat, the tension crackling like static in the air. You ignored it.

“Hello! Did Sol teach you a lesson yet?” you asked, your tone sharper than you intended.

Hyugo’s bored demeanor dropped instantly. His eyes narrowed, and his lips formed a pout, an exaggerated expression of mock offense.

“Hmph! You told him?! Why would you do that?” he said, huffing like a sulking child.

You smirked. “You and George of the Jungle have the exact same baby face,” you shot back, tilting your head.

Hyugo’s faux anger morphed into surprise. His mouth opened slightly in an “O” shape. “You know him?”

You nodded smugly. “Yeah. I like to piss him off. He torments me constantly, so I’ve made it my mission to get justice for the—uh—life he’s made miserable for me.”

Hyugo raised a brow, clearly unconvinced.

“And while we’re on the topic,” you continued, pointing at him, “tell your brother to stop being such a Pinocchio and sticking his big nose in other people’s business!”

Hyugo blinked. “Okay! He won't listen!"

“And you!” you turned your attention back to him, your eyes narrowing, “you threatened me yesterday! For what? What did I even do to deserve that?!”

Hyugo crossed his arms, a smirk curling on his lips. “Me? Threaten you? I would never,” he said, his tone dripping with sarcasm.

“Don’t act innocent,” you shot back.

Sol, who had remained silent during your exchange, finally spoke. His voice was calm, cutting through the tension. “Hyugo, stop messing around. Didn't we talk about it?"

Hyugo sighed dramatically, throwing up his hands in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll behave. Geez, Y/N, you’ve got sharp teeth for such a cute face.”

You glared at him, though your heart skipped a beat at Sol’s intervention.

Sol glanced at you, his usual composed demeanor softening into a rare, gentle smile. “Hyugo won’t do it again,” he assured you, his voice calm but with an edge that hinted at unspoken consequences.

You tilted your head, curiosity bubbling up. “And if he does?” you asked, teasingly but genuinely curious.

Before Sol could answer, Hyugo spoke up, his grin wide and playful. “Break my nose, for sure,” he said with a dramatic shrug, as if the idea didn’t faze him in the slightest.

You blinked, caught off guard by his nonchalance. For a moment, you were tempted to laugh, but something about the way Hyugo carried himself made you hesitate. He wasn’t someone to underestimate, and the playful glint in his eyes told you he knew it too.

Still, you forced a smile and decided to shift the mood. In your best attempt at Japanese, you bowed your head slightly and said, “ごめんなさい。” (Gomen’nasai.)

Hyugo’s eyes widened in surprise, his usual teasing smirk replaced by something more genuine—a bright smile that seemed to light up his face. But just as quickly, his expression shifted into something more thoughtful, his brows furrowing slightly.

He was thinking.

Perhaps too deeply for someone like Hyugo.

You could almost see the gears turning in his head. Did he suspect something? Could he tell you weren’t just throwing out random words? Maybe he’d pieced together that you actually understood bits of what he was saying when he switched to Japanese.

Sol, however, just looked at you, his crimson-and-orange gaze filled with quiet confusion. “What… are you doing?”

You grinned cheekily, shrugging it off as if it were nothing. “It was a one-day course I did,” you explained casually, “figured I’d try it out. Plus, I wanted to use it to piss off Geo.”

Sol’s expression didn’t change, but you swore you caught the faintest twitch of amusement in the corner of his lips.

Hyugo, on the other hand, narrowed his eyes at you, his arms crossing as he tilted his head. “Geo, huh? So you’re learning languages just to mess with him?”

“Exactly,” you replied with a playful smile.

Hyugo shook his head, a chuckle escaping him. “You’re something else. My brother never was silent!”

You hissed under your breath, the tension building inside you, threatening to spill over. Hyugo, that damn shit, was trying to divert the conversation again, and you could feel your frustration boiling over. But before you could say anything, he chimed in with a grin.

"But hey there! Thanks again for taking care of my buddy ol' pal here!"

You clenched your fists, the words on the tip of your tongue. No! Don't say it. Don’t fucking say it, Y/n. The voice in your head screamed, but you couldn’t help it.

"You’re an idiot," you said, the words coming out more harsh than you intended. "Ditching your friend like that. You know Sol gets bullied a lot. What if someone—"

You caught yourself too late. The words hung in the air, and you immediately regretted speaking them. Shut up, you fucking idiot! The self-loathing crashed down on you like a wave. You had to hold back the urge to slap yourself for speaking without thinking.

Hyugo, to his credit, just let out an awkward chuckle and winked at you, clearly unfazed. “Well, you were there for this handsome face fully yesterday, so I wasn’t worried.” He teased, grabbing Sol’s jaw and holding it up for display, causing an irritated groan to escape from the usually composed taller male.

“You. Are. Embarrassing. Me.” Sol’s voice was low, almost embarrassed as he tried to swat Hyugo’s hand away from his face, but Hyugo didn’t budge, instead grinning like the fool he was.

You felt a pit in your stomach. They were so easy with each other, too easy. You hadn’t been in a friendship like this, a closeness that felt so…natural. But that didn’t mean you liked it. It didn’t mean you were okay with it. Sol was yours—at least in your mind. No one else could have him.

Hyugo was just a distraction. A nuisance. Yet, something in the way he smiled and teased made you feel strange, uneasy. He was playing his part to perfection—being the charming idiot who seemed to have everything effortlessly. While Sol stood there, looking annoyed but also strangely comfortable around him, you couldn’t shake the feeling of discomfort creeping up your spine.

You had to stop thinking like this. You needed control.

"Sorry about him letting you take over his responsibility," Sol said, his usual teasing demeanor replaced with an exaggerated puppy pout, his smile ripped from his face as quickly as it came.

"Why did you tell him, Y/n? See, he's so cold to me now." Hyugo's voice turned whiny as he shot a glance at Sol, clearly disappointed that his playful antics weren't having the desired effect. The pout on his face only made him look like a sad kitten, and for a moment, you couldn't help but feel sorry for him.

God, you’re such a mess, Y/n. You mentally scolded yourself, but it didn’t change the fact that the whole situation was starting to feel like a personal disaster.

Sol was still stoic, the ever-watchful protector in his own way, but his eyes flicked toward you momentarily. The slightest shift in his gaze sent a warm rush through you.

"Sol..." you began softly, almost shyly. You didn’t want to be too obvious, but the words slipped out before you could stop them. "Please talk to Hyugo... Whatever it is, I want to thank him for letting me meet you finally. I mean, in the process."

There it was. The one thing that had been gnawing at you for so long. You weren’t asking for much—just that Sol would acknowledge the effort Hyugo had made to bring you together, even if it was clumsy and awkward.

Hyugo, catching the tone of your voice, nudged Sol in the ribs, prompting a low groan of discomfort from the taller male. He reached up to rub Hyugo's head in a way that seemed both affectionate and exasperated, like an older brother humoring a younger one.

"Yay! Thanks for fixing our pretty friendship, Y/n!" Hyugo’s voice was light, and his smile returned as he waved to you, looking genuinely pleased with himself.

You couldn't help but smile back, the corners of your mouth curving up in something like a real, genuine smile. It’s just a smile. Just a passing moment of kindness, you told yourself.

And then everything went to hell.

"Fuck, shitty Crowe," you muttered under your breath. You felt a heavy pressure on your chest as you turned to see him standing there, looming like a shadow that had followed you from the past.

"Aren’t you coming…?" Crowe’s voice carried with a mix of awkwardness . His presence was an unwelcome interruption to your fragile little bubble of hope. "Oh! Is these your friends? I see… I’m sorry if I bothered you." He said it so casually, as if he didn’t realize the effect his presence had on you.

You locked eyes with him, your gaze sharp and accusatory. Don’t make a scene. Don’t make this worse. But the words that came out of your mouth were anything but calm.

"Which part of the line... will you not?" Your voice was tense, the words biting at the air like venom.

Everyone in the group seemed to fall into an uncomfortable silence. You could feel their eyes on you, unsure of how to react. Geo stood there like a distant figure in the background, arms crossed, a slightly irritated expression on his face, while Brittney, Deryl, and Jess exchanged looks full of concern.

You felt trapped, suffocated by the weight of their attention, and you just wanted to escape. You can’t keep running, Y/n. You can’t keep hiding.

But it wasn’t just Crowe that you wanted to avoid. It was everything. The constant nagging fear, the guilt eating at your insides. You excused yourself, muttering under your breath.

"Y/n!"

Sol’s voice stopped you dead in your tracks, his tone softer than you expected. He rushed forward, concern laced in his words.

You turned to him, your heart leaping in your chest. There was something about the way Sol looked at you now, like he wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but he cared enough to make sure you were alright. The chaos of the moment didn’t matter. What mattered was Sol’s gentle hand on your shoulder, the way his eyes locked with yours as if asking for permission to step closer.

You smiled at him innocently, brightly—genuinely happy for the first time in days. The way Sol rushed to you, the care in his every step, was everything you had been craving.

Hyugo, clearly noticing the shift in the air, started talking to his brother, who was still looking incredibly displeased with him. The sound of their conversation faded into the background as your world narrowed down to just you and Sol.

For a moment, everything else—Crowe, your inner demons, the tension with Hyugo—seemed like it didn’t matter.

Because Sol was there. And for once, you weren’t alone.

"Anyway! Do you have any plans, Y/n? We're planning to go to the rooftop today and eat lunch there. You wanna tag along with us?" Hyugo's voice broke through the moment, casual and carefree.

You blinked, torn between the overwhelming thoughts racing through your mind. Rooftop. It sounded like an escape, away from the chaos. Away from the suffocating noise of the cafeteria. Definitely not the cafeteria, you thought.

"...Sol, definitely not the cafeteria... right?" you asked, trying to keep your voice casual but a tinge of excitement slipping through.

Sol shivered at the mention of the cafeteria, and Hyugo gave a small, nervous chuckle, clearly aware of the discomfort you both felt.

"I get it," you continued, your voice almost too smooth as you spoke. "The noise there is... discomforting. It makes me feel overwhelmed, and causes panic and anxiety... Is it like that for you too?" You didn’t mean for your words to sound the way they did—seductive, almost as if you were trying to show him that you two were alike. Definitely not faking it, you told yourself, though the tone you used felt too real. Too much.

Sol paused, his gaze shifting to you. The concern in his eyes deepened, and he nodded. He looked almost guilty, like he was worried for you. "Yeah... it is," he admitted softly, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hyugo, scratching his head in the background, glanced at the two of you with a knowing look. He leaned over to Sol, whispering something under his breath, but you were close enough to hear.

"You two are soulmates or something? How the hell are you both so similar like this?" Hyugo's words were teasing, but the implication made your heart beat faster.

Sol's face turned a deep shade of red, his lips pressing into a thin line as he fell silent. He glanced at you for a moment, clearly flustered but still trying to keep his composure.

You smiled at him, the expression on your face twisted in something darker than it should’ve been, but Sol didn’t seem to notice. He was too busy trying to fight the blush creeping up his neck.

Your smile deepened, but Sol was too lost in his own thoughts to see the crazed gleam in your eyes. He didn’t know how much you really cared. How much you needed him.

Hyugo walked over to his usual spot, taking his seat on the bench you had grown so fond of watching from a distance. Your eyes followed him, but it wasn’t long before Sol appeared, holding a large, wrapped box in his hands—something that immediately caught your attention. You couldn’t help but glance at the box, your curiosity piqued.

Sol, sensing your gaze, turned to look at you, and for a brief moment, your eyes locked. You didn’t break the connection, your expression softening in a way that only Sol would notice. You quickly moved to sit beside him, a little too eagerly, but you didn’t care. You had waited for this moment, and now it was here.

Sol glanced at you from the corner of his eye, and the faintest curve appeared at the corner of his lips, a subtle but knowing smile. It was small, almost imperceptible, but you caught it. You pointed at the box nestled in his hands, your voice laced with quiet curiosity.

"Did you pack three bento boxes again?" you asked, the word ‘again’ slipping out before you could stop it. Sol didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the task at hand as he unwrapped the cloth.

"Could say that," he replied casually, his voice warm but detached as he opened the box. Inside, there were indeed three meticulously packed bento boxes. Sol passed one to Hyugo, and then another for himself, leaving the third.

Hyugo accepted the box with a grateful smile, thanking Sol before pulling out his chopsticks. As he opened the container, he let out a small gasp of delight, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh! The otopushes are so cute!" Hyugo exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

You didn’t let him finish, jumping in with your own enthusiastic response. "Ahhh!! They're adorable!" Your voice was louder than it probably should have been, but you couldn’t contain your excitement. You were practically bouncing in place as you leaned over, almost falling into Sol’s lap in your eagerness to get a closer look at the little decorated foods.

Sol let out a yelp, caught off guard by your sudden movement, but you didn’t care. The otopushes were so cute, and you couldn’t help but giggle at how perfect they looked. You practically cooed at them, your voice a mixture of excitement and affection.

"Ahhh!!! So cute!!!" you giggled, completely enamored by the detail Sol had put into each box.

Sol’s face flushed slightly, his surprise fading as he watched you. Hyugo just chuckled, watching the scene unfold with a knowing grin. He didn’t say much, letting the moment play out, but his eyes were amused, glancing between you and Sol as he happily dug into his meal.

Meanwhile, you couldn’t stop smiling, your heart swelling with a strange mix of happiness and obsession. This moment, sitting beside Sol, was everything you wanted. The warmth of his presence, the quiet connection in the little things like sharing a meal together, it was everything. You let your gaze linger on him a bit longer than you should have, lost in the simple joy of being near him.

"Did you pack three bento boxes again?" you asked, the word ‘again’ slipping out before you could stop it. Sol didn’t seem to notice, too focused on the task at hand as he unwrapped the cloth.

"Could say that," he replied casually, his voice warm but detached as he opened the box. Inside, there were indeed three meticulously packed bento boxes—each a masterpiece in its own right. Sol passed one to Hyugo, and then another for himself, leaving the third—always for you.

Your heart fluttered.

Hyugo accepted the box with a grateful smile, thanking Sol before pulling out his chopsticks. As he opened the container, he let out a small gasp of delight, his eyes lighting up with excitement.

"Oh! The otopushes are so cute!" Hyugo exclaimed, his voice filled with genuine admiration.

"Ahhh!!! So cute!!!" you giggled, completely enamored by the detail Sol had put into each box.

But you knew, deep down, this was just the beginning. And no matter how many times you found yourself in these little moments with Sol, you would always crave more. More of him. More of this closeness. More of everything. And nothing, not even your own twisted thoughts, could stop you from wanting it all.

You glanced at Sol's lunch as he opened it, noting how simple it was—a ham and cheese sandwich, neatly wrapped, but nothing too special. It made your heart ache a little. How could he not treat himself to something more? You had seen his attention to detail in the bento boxes he made for others, and yet, when it came to his own lunch, it seemed like he didn’t care as much. It was almost as if he didn’t value himself enough to do something nice.

You wanted to cook for him, to make him something special. Something as beautiful as what he put into the lunches for others. Why didn't he do that for himself?

Sol’s voice broke your thoughts.

“Did you eat today?” he asked, his voice unusually gentle.

You shook your head. “No…”

Sol’s eyes widened in surprise, and Hyugo, still mid-bite, stopped chewing, his eyes flicking between you and Sol. The sudden shift in the atmosphere wasn’t lost on you. There was a brief silence before Sol made a quick decision. Without saying anything more, he grabbed the third bento box from the cloth and placed it gently onto your lap.

You stared at the box, surprised. "Sol... it’s okay. Why do you have an extra one?"

“I thought Hyugo would finish it… plus, I didn’t like it,” he answered, his voice grumpy but soft. He looked away, clearly not wanting to explain further. His face was cute, though, flushed slightly as he tried to brush it off like it was no big deal.

But you could tell. Sol didn’t want to talk about it, but the effort he made, even in such a small way, made you feel warm. It was almost like he was giving you a piece of himself in that box.

You gently pushed it back towards him, shaking your head. “It’s okay, really…”

But Hyugo, looking a little tired himself and definitely more than a little frustrated, sighed loudly.

“For fuck sake—just eat from the same box, will ya?” he muttered, barely looking up from his meal as he poked at the food in his own bento.

Sol hesitated for a moment, his fingers gripping the fork and spoon a little too tightly, as if unsure of what to do next. The silence between you felt almost suffocating, but you could sense the tension building in the air. You decided to tease him, just to see how far you could push his patience.

You shook your head, declining the fork with a small smile. "I don't need that," you said, your voice playful, almost teasing.

Sol blinked, taken aback. "You want a spoon then? Or you could use chopsticks if you'd prefer," he offered, trying to keep his cool.

You didn’t respond to his suggestion. Instead, you looked directly into his eyes, leaning in just slightly as if to draw him closer. Your eyes were heavy-lidded, the playful innocence you tried to convey just enough to make him second-guess everything.

"Nothing of sorts," you replied cryptically, but with an intensity in your gaze that sent a shiver down his spine.

Sol raised an eyebrow, clearly confused. "Then what do you want?" he asked, his voice quiet, his patience running thin.

You didn’t break eye contact. In fact, you only leaned in closer, a soft but mischievous smile tugging at your lips. Your voice was barely a whisper, but it carried the weight of your intention.

you said, your voice trembling with something you couldn’t quite place. "I want you to feed me."

Sol’s breath hitched. His eyes widened, the red hue of embarrassment creeping across his face at your unexpected suggestion. You could see him freeze, his body stiffening as he processed your words. He glanced at Hyugo, who was sitting beside him, but you knew Sol’s attention was solely on you now.

With puppy eyes, you repeated, "Are you going to deny me, Sol?"

You didn’t care that Hyugo was right there. You were completely focused on Sol, testing him, wanting to see how far you could push. You wanted to make him squirm, to watch his reactions to every word that came from your mouth.

Hyugo, however, was no fool. He gave you a pointed side-eye, clearly unimpressed with your antics. "Really? Right in front of my bento box?" he muttered under his breath, his judgmental stare only adding fuel to the fire. "Come on, not the time or place."

You ignored him entirely, your gaze still locked on Sol, waiting for his response. You needed to see his reaction, to make him feel something for you, anything at all.

Sol looked back at you, his expression a mix of confusion and something else you couldn’t quite decipher. He was silent for a few moments, and you could tell he was struggling to come up with a response. His hesitation made you even more determined. You wanted to see him squirm, to watch him struggle with your words.

Hyugo, still eyeing you both, broke the silence with a scoff. "Are you gonna keep staring at them like that, or...?"

Sol glared at Hyugo, clearly irritated. "S-Shut up, Hyugo," he muttered, his voice quiet but sharp. "I’ll feed them."

At his words, your heart skipped a beat. There it was. He had agreed, albeit reluctantly. You almost couldn’t believe it. You sat there, waiting, as Sol took the spoon from the bento box a little too harshly, as if his hands were trembling with uncertainty. He scooped up some rice, along with a piece of sausage, and held it out to you, waiting for you to open your mouth.

You stared at the spoon for a moment, confused. Was he actually going to do it? You had thought he would refuse, that he might push you away, but here he was, offering you food.

Sol’s gaze never wavered from yours, his face flushed with embarrassment and something else that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. His silence was almost maddening, but you couldn’t bring yourself to break it.

Finally, with a small, almost imperceptible sigh, you leaned forward and opened your mouth. Sol hesitated for a moment longer, as if testing to see if you were serious, but then he gently placed the spoon into your mouth.

For a brief moment, everything felt surreal. It wasn’t about the food, not really. It was about the intimacy of the gesture, the closeness, the way your relationship with Sol seemed to shift with each passing second.

Hyugo, still sitting beside you both, stared at the two of you with an unimpressed expression, clearly over the scene you had created. But you didn’t care.

The bite of food melted on your tongue, you couldn’t help but feel a rush of excitement. It was delicious, but that wasn’t what had your heart racing. It was the fact that Sol, Sol, was feeding you. You wanted to scream, to shout your happiness to the world, but you kept it all in, a bubbling excitement threatening to spill out of you.

You took a moment to savor the flavor, but internally, it was like fireworks had gone off in your chest. You wanted to explode with happiness, but instead, you simply giggled. The sound escaped from you before you could stop it, a quiet, almost delirious sound of pure joy.

Inside, however, it was a different story. Your mind was screaming at you, your heart pounding in your chest like a runaway drum. Sol, Sol, Sol, I can’t believe this is happening!!! You wanted to jump up and scream it, but instead, you kicked your feet under the table in an almost childlike display of happiness.

Sol, of course, was completely oblivious to your inner chaos. He watched you for a moment, blinking in confusion. Your reaction was not what he expected, and it made him blush even harder. He scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly unsure of how to respond to your gleeful energy.

"This is so good!" you exclaimed, your voice practically sparkling with delight as you savored another bite. You couldn’t hold back your joy—it was as if every flavor came alive just for you.

Hyugo, who was absolutely stuffing his face with his bento box, looked at you with puffed-out cheeks like a hamster caught mid-feast. "I KNOW, RIGHT?!" he shouted through a mouthful of food, his enthusiasm infectious.

You chuckled at his energy, finding it oddly endearing. It made you glance back at Sol, who was eating quietly beside you. His calmness always stood out, but in this moment, it just made you feel more drawn to him.

"Sol," you said, calling his name softly. He turned to you, his eyes meeting yours with a quiet curiosity.

"You’d make such a great household husband," you teased, your tone light but your words brimming with affection.

Sol’s eyes widened at your declaration, the calm composure he usually maintained instantly crumbling. His cheeks turned a vibrant shade of red, and he quickly averted his gaze from you.

"Y-You really think so?" he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

You nodded with a smile, finding his reaction absolutely adorable. Sol seemed at a loss for words, his face growing even redder as he clutched his chopsticks tighter. He glanced down at his food, his mouth opening and closing as if he was trying to say something but couldn’t find the words.

And then, in a voice so soft you almost missed it, you heard him mumble, "Do you... want to get married to me?"

Your heart froze. Did he just—?

Before you could even process or respond, Hyugo swooped in like a wrecking ball, loudly exclaiming, "OH, LOOK AT THAT! THE WIND IS PICKING UP! DON’T MIND ME!" He clapped his hands together and let out a nervous laugh, cutting through the tension like a knife.

Hyugo’s interruption was so sudden and dramatic that it managed to defuse the moment, at least on the surface. Sol groaned, rubbing the bridge of his nose, clearly mortified. "Hyugo," he muttered through gritted teeth, "shut up."

But you weren’t letting it go. Not in your heart, at least.

Inside, you were a storm of emotions, your heart screaming with uncontainable joy. AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!! The thought of Sol even considering marriage with you—his quiet, hesitant words—set your soul ablaze. You wanted to jump, to scream, to kiss him right then and there.

But outwardly, you kept your cool, only letting a small, soft smile curl on your lips. You didn’t want to make Sol feel awkward or embarrassed. He already looked like a beetroot—his face flushed so red it was almost glowing.

You giggled softly and focused on your bento, savoring every bite with newfound delight. It wasn’t just the food that made you happy—it was the thought of Sol, his shy demeanor, his quiet kindness, his gentle heart.

Hyugo, sensing the charged atmosphere, leaned back and continued devouring his food with an exaggerated nonchalance

Meanwhile, Sol stayed silent, his gaze fixated on his lap as he fiddled with his SPOON.

Hyugo leaned back on the bench with a dramatic flourish, his arms spread wide as if making a grand announcement. “Let me tell you something, Y/n,” he began, his voice loud and playful, “Sol here? He’s not just a pretty face, no, no, no! He’s a complete package. The guy can cook, clean, organize, you name it! Total husband material! You’d think he was trained for this or something. Honestly, if I were into dudes, I’d have already proposed!”

You blinked at him, taken aback by his sheer enthusiasm. Hyugo’s grin widened, clearly enjoying himself as he continued his sales pitch. “Need someone to whip up gourmet-level meals? Sol’s your guy. Want your apartment to look spotless and smell like fresh lavender? Sol’s already on it. I mean, the man even folds his laundry so neatly it looks like art. ART!”

Sol let out a groan, covering his face with one hand. "Hyugo, stop it."

“Stop what?” Hyugo said innocently, clasping his hands together. “I’m just stating facts! You’re like the dream husband everyone wants, and I’m just letting Y/n know how much of a catch you are! You should be thanking me!”

“Thanking you for what?” Sol snapped, his tone sharp but his lips curving into an amused smile despite himself. “For making me sound like your personal butler? No thanks.”

Hyugo pouted, crossing his arms. “That’s not what I’m saying at all! It’s a compliment, you ungrateful perfectionist!” He jabbed a finger in Sol’s direction, his cheeks puffed in mock indignation.

Sol finally broke into a soft laugh, his irritation melting away. His eyes sparkled with that rare warmth, and the corners of his lips lifted into the gentlest of smiles. “Yeah, yeah, sure. Thanks for your glowing review, Hyugo.”

Their banter felt so natural, so effortless, like a glimpse into the depth of their friendship. It warmed your heart to see them like this—to see Sol smile like that, carefree and genuine. His laughter was soft, but it echoed in your mind, filling you with a quiet, radiant joy.

Your gaze lingered on him, watching how the sunlight hit his face, how his expression softened when he looked at Hyugo. You loved him—deeply, irrevocably. The realization hit you again, as powerful as the first time. You wanted this light in your life. You wanted him.

Sol had gone unusually quiet, his gaze distant as if lost in a maze of his own thoughts. You tilted your head, curiosity tugging at you. Something was off.

"Sol," you called softly, your voice breaking through his reverie. "You okay there?"

His body jolted slightly, like he'd been startled back into reality. "Oh! Yeah, I'm fine, Y/n." He forced a small smile, but his eyes betrayed him—there was something unsettled swimming beneath the surface. "Perfectly fine." He repeated the words, but this time there was an unmissable hesitation.

You narrowed your eyes at him, concern creeping in. "Are you sure? You seem... distracted."

He cleared his throat abruptly, sitting up straighter as if to compose himself. For a moment, he seemed ready to speak, but instead, he mumbled something under his breath. The words were faint, but they lingered in the air just enough for you to catch: "...like him..."

You leaned in slightly, brows furrowing. "What was that?"

He avoided your gaze for a second before finally turning to you, his expression guarded but laced with something else—an emotion you couldn’t quite place. "That person," he began carefully, his voice quieter than usual. "The one with braids."

Braids? It took you a second, but then it clicked. Crowe. Why would Sol be asking about him? The thought made you tense.

"Crowe... Ichabod? What about him?" you asked cautiously. You didn’t miss the flicker of something in Sol’s eyes at the mention of Crowe’s name—a fleeting darkness that made the air around him feel heavier.

He took a breath, his voice steady but low. "Yeah. Him." His tone carried a weight that made you sit up straighter. "Can I ask you something?"

Your confusion deepened, but you nodded. "Go ahead," you said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. The touch seemed to catch him off guard; his body stiffened for a moment before relaxing under your hand.

He hesitated, his gaze flickering to yours. His lips parted, and the question slipped out, almost too quiet to hear: "Do you... like him?"

The question struck you like a thunderclap. Your mind reeled. Why was he asking this? Why did it matter to him? The intensity in his gaze, the slight clench of his jaw—it wasn’t just idle curiosity. It was something deeper. Something raw.

"I..." You faltered for a moment, searching for words.

Seeing your daze, you turned your head to Sol. His expression was dark, a shadow falling over his features, but his eyes gleamed unnaturally bright against the gloom. He said nothing, his gaze locked on the ground as if avoiding yours entirely.

"You don't have to say," he muttered, voice low and strained. His grip on the bento box in his lap tightened, the edges digging into his palms, and you noticed his fingers turning pale from the pressure.

Is he… jealous? The thought ignited something in you, a twisted kind of satisfaction at the possibility, but it was tempered by the sight of him like this—silent, tense, and clearly battling his emotions. Your obsession screamed at you to push it further, to see how much he’d unravel for you, but... you didn’t.

Not this time.

You didn’t want him to suffer under the weight of his feelings, even if they mirrored the toxic depths of your own. There was some sliver of humanity left in you, wasn’t there? Maybe. Or maybe it was simply because seeing Sol unhappy made your chest ache, and all you wanted was to see that gentle smile return.

Because you loved him. You loved him in a way that no one else could. In a way that bordered on madness. But you also wanted him to love you freely, without the pain etched across his face now.

Toxic? Yes. You were fully aware of it. You always had been.

But at least you could choose not to trigger him—at least, not intentionally. Not when you could feel the weight of his unspoken thoughts. He was waiting for an answer, bracing himself for something he clearly didn’t want to hear.

You looked at Sol, who was still gripping his bento box tightly, his knuckles pale. His jaw was set, and his eyes burned with an intensity that pinned you in place. This was not a side of him you saw often. Sol, with his quiet strength, always seemed above emotions like jealousy. But here he was—hissing softly under his breath, his lips barely moving as if he were mumbling something to himself.

He thought you still liked Crowe, didn’t he?

You let out a small sigh, leaning back slightly to gather your thoughts. Your fingers fidgeted in your lap, and you glanced at Sol again. His gaze was fixated on the ground, but his attention was wholly on you. The air felt heavy, charged with unspoken tension.

"Sol," you began softly, "about Crowe…"

That got his attention. His head tilted just enough for his eyes to flick toward you, the glint in them sharp, cautious. You pressed on, voice steady but quiet.

"During the first semester… there was this incident." You hesitated, feeling the memories resurface. "Crowe saved me. I don’t mean in some big, dramatic way, but he was there when I needed someone. And for a while… I liked him. A lot."

Sol’s eyes narrowed, his lips curving downward as he let out a quiet, almost inaudible hiss. The sound made your heart clench—not out of fear, but because you hated seeing him this way. Still, you pushed forward.

"I liked him because he was nice," you admitted, your voice calm but tinged with something heavier. Sol’s head dipped slightly, his bangs falling over his face, and you saw his hands tremble just a bit.

You took a breath, letting the words pour out before he could spiral further. "But you know what? I hate nice people."

That startled him. His head snapped up, his eyes widening just enough to show his surprise. You gave him a small, bittersweet smile, feeling your chest tighten as you spoke.

"I hate nice people because… if they so much as say hello to me, it stays on my mind. If they return my texts, my heart races. The day they call me? I’d probably replay that conversation in my head for days. But I know—deep down—I know it’s just them being nice. Nothing more."

Sol’s lips parted as if to say something, but he stayed silent, his gaze locked onto yours. There was something raw in his expression now, something vulnerable.

"And Crowe?" you continued, your smile growing faint, almost brittle. "He’s the same. He’s kind to everyone. He sees the good in people, always. That’s just who he is. And you know what? If the truth is cruel, then kindness is a lie. Because lies are meant for kindness."

You stopped, swallowing hard as you felt the sting of unshed tears. Sol’s gaze softened, though his body remained tense. He wasn’t interrupting, wasn’t looking away. He was listening.

"I gave up," you admitted, your voice quieter now. "I gave up on wanting things like that. Someone who’s just nice to me because it’s what they do? It’s not enough. I wanted someone to love me. Not out of pity or kindness. But because they saw something in me—something worth loving. And if they did? If they loved me… I’d give everything to them."

Sol’s breath hitched audibly at that. You didn’t look at him, afraid that meeting his eyes would unravel you completely. Instead, you stared at your hands, voice trembling as you finished.

"No matter how… strange the love might be," you said faintly, "I’d love them back. Because they found something in me. Because they wanted happiness… with me."

You paused, letting the silence stretch between you both for a moment. When you finally looked up, Sol was staring at you, his expression unreadable but his eyes glistening with an intensity that made your heart ache.

"So, to answer your question, Sol…" you said softly, meeting his gaze head-on. "No. I don’t like Crowe. Not anymore. We even had a fight yesterday, and honestly? I’m done with it. I’m done with him."

The words hung in the air, heavy and final. Sol’s shoulders relaxed slightly, the tension in his posture easing, though his expression remained serious. He opened his mouth to say something but stopped, his lips pressing into a thin line instead.

You let out a bitter laugh, shaking your head as the weight of everything you just said hung in the air. The truth had tumbled out so effortlessly, yet it felt heavy, like you’d cracked open a part of yourself you hadn’t meant to. Sol was still staring at you, his expression unreadable, but his eyes… they stayed on you, unwavering, as if he was waiting for something.

"It’s so shitty, isn’t it?" you muttered, your voice low but trembling with emotion. "How people like me… how we think. It’s exhausting. I hate how my mind works—getting attached so easily, overthinking every little thing. Crowe just smiles or says hi, and suddenly it’s like I’ve written a whole future in my head. Like I matter to him. Like I’m… special."

You scoffed, running a hand through your hair. "But it’s not real. It never is. And then I get angry at myself for even hoping it could be. It’s stupid, you know? Wanting to mean something to someone who probably doesn’t even remember I exist half the time."

Sol flinched, almost imperceptibly, but you caught it. His hands rested on his knees, gripping his pants tightly as if grounding himself. Hyugo, on the other hand, looked away awkwardly, the tension thick enough to make even him fidget.

"And the worst part?" you continued, your voice rising just slightly before falling into a strained whisper. "It’s like… I know better. I know that people like Crowe aren’t bad, that they’re just being themselves. But it still feels like shit. It feels like a cruel joke. Because I can’t stop myself from wanting to matter to someone like that. And every time I realize I don’t? It’s like I lose another piece of myself."

You finally looked up at Sol, your eyes locking onto his. His expression was softer now, his lips parted as if he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words. His gaze held a storm of emotions—anger, sadness, and something else that made your heart twist.

"I hate how pathetic this all sounds," you admitted, your voice cracking. "But it’s the truth. And the truth is cruel."

The silence that followed was deafening. Even Hyugo, who always had something to say, stayed quiet. Sol finally moved, shifting slightly closer to you. His hand hovered near yours, hesitating for a moment before his fingers brushed against yours lightly, grounding you in the moment.

"You’re not pathetic," Sol said, his voice low but firm. "Don’t ever call yourself that."

His words were simple, but the weight behind them made your chest tighten. He looked at you with an intensity that made it hard to breathe, his crimson-and-orange eyes burning into yours like they could see every hidden part of you.

"You just… want to be seen," he added, his tone softer now, almost tender. "That’s not pathetic, Y/n. That’s human."

".....When will you let me see you...?" You asked quietly, Sol didn't catch it.

You shifted in your seat, trying to steer the conversation elsewhere. The mood had gotten heavy, and you were desperate for some levity. "So, Sol," you began, your tone light and teasing, "surely you must like someone, right? Spill it!"

Sol raised an eyebrow, the corners of his lips curling into that mischievous smirk you knew all too well—the one that appeared when he thought he had the upper hand. It was the same smirk he gave you when he thought you were fast asleep, his arms wrapped around you tighter than they needed to be. It made your chest flutter in ways you couldn’t admit out loud.

He leaned in slightly, his voice dripping with playful sarcasm. "Why? You interested?"

Your eyes widened, your entire face heating up as you puffed out your cheeks in frustration. "W-What?! No! That’s not what I—ugh! Sol!" You stammered, flailing your hands as you tried to recover, but the damage was done.

The grin on his face widened, and for a brief moment, he chuckled—a rare, soft sound that made your heart skip a beat. His teasing facade cracked just a little as he looked at you with those piercing eyes, the playful glint fading into something warmer, softer. "So cute," he murmured, almost too quietly for you to catch.

Almost.

You did catch it, though, and your brain immediately short-circuited. Your chest tightened, and your legs wobbled as if your body couldn’t handle the sheer force of him. You could feel the heat radiating off your face, your heart pounding like it was trying to escape your ribcage.

Did he just—? Did Sol—?

Your vision swam for a moment, and before you knew it, you were swaying. "Whoa, Y/n!" Sol’s voice snapped you back as he reached out, catching you before you could fully tip over. His hands were firm and steady on your shoulders, his eyes wide with genuine concern. "Are you okay?"

Hyugo had stopped mid-bite, his hamster cheeks full of rice as he looked at you, clearly worried. "Y/n, you’re as red as a tomato! Do we need to call someone?"

"I-I’M FINE!" you squeaked, quickly sitting upright as you waved your hands frantically to dispel their concern. "Seriously, I’m okay!" But your face betrayed you, still hot and crimson as you avoided Sol’s gaze.

Sol narrowed his eyes at you, skeptical but letting it slide—for now. "You sure? You looked like you were about to faint." His voice was soft again, the teasing edge gone, replaced with something closer to worry.

"I’m fine!" you repeated, louder this time. Then, in an attempt to regain some semblance of control over the situation "Your cooking is good!"

Hyugo gave a knowing nod, stuffing another bite into his own mouth. "I know, right? Sol’s cooking is unbeatable!"

You smiled at Hyugo before turning your attention back to Sol, who was still holding the spoon, his face carefully neutral despite the redness creeping up his neck. "You’d make a great househusband, Sol," you teased, your tone light but sincere. "Seriously, whoever ends up with you is gonna be so lucky."

Sol’s eyes widened at your words, his grip on the spoon faltering slightly. "You… really think so?" he asked, his voice barely above a whisper as he averted his gaze.

You nodded earnestly. "Of course! You’re amazing, Sol."

For a moment, he was silent, his face an even deeper shade of red as he seemed to grapple with something. Then, so quietly you almost missed it, he mumbled under his breath, "It's for you..I.."

Before you could fully process his words, Hyugo loudly cleared his throat, his eyes narrowing at Sol like he was trying to keep him from saying anything else. "I know right!"

Sol shot him a glare but complied, scooping up another bite and holding it out to you. You leaned forward eagerly, biting down on the spoon and savoring the taste. Inside, your heart was doing somersaults, screaming, AHHHHHHHHHHH SOL SOL SOLLL!!!

You kicked your feet under the table, your cheeks hurting from how wide you were smiling. Sol, despite his earlier embarrassment, couldn’t help but smile back at you, his expression softening once more.

This was perfect.

You leaned back, taking a break from the spoonful of food you’d just been fed, your mind racing with curiosity. "So… is this what you two do? You just feed each other like this every day?" you asked, playing it innocent, though you were secretly enjoying the chaos you were stirring.

Sol raised an eyebrow, looking slightly irritated but amused. "Hyu—" he paused, glancing at Hyugo, who was currently munching on his food like it was the best thing he’d ever tasted. "Hyugo forgets his lunch sometimes," Sol explained, "Then I end up sharing mine with him."

Hyugo’s face instantly puffed up in indignation, pouting like a child caught in the act. "Hey! I don’t forget my lunch," he snapped, his voice muffled by the rice in his mouth. "It’s just... I’m busy! Plus, I can always count on Sol to feed me."

"Whatever, Sol," Hyugo muttered, crossing his arms as he slouched back. "I’m just looking for inspiration. You wouldn’t understand."

You giggled, watching the playful banter unfold. There was something about the dynamic between the two of them that made you feel warm inside. "Speaking of inspiration," you turned to Sol, a mischievous glint in your eyes. "Where do you get the inspiration for these bento art pieces? They’re incredible. Do you just, like, think of it off the top of your head?"

Hyugo perked up, looking at you as if you’d asked the most obvious question. "Oh, you didn’t know?" he said, a sly smile spreading across his face. "Of course you know! Sol’s like the art guy in our class. He’s always been into making everything a piece of art—even his cooking. That’s why he learned to cook so well. He doesn’t just want to feed people, he wants them to experience it, you know?"

Sol’s face softened for a moment at Hyugo’s words, a small, fond smile tugging at the corner of his lips. He looked almost shy when he responded. "I guess... I like cute things."

You raised an eyebrow, tilting your head slightly. "Cute things? Like… what kind of cute things?" you asked, curious.

"Like," Hyugo chimed in with a smirk, "cute food, cute animals, cute people... you name it. Sol’s a sucker for anything that’s adorable. Like the way he stares at that stuffed horse plushie all the time—"

At that, you paused, eyes widening. "Wait, what? You have a stuffed horse?" You knew it.

Sol's face immediately turned bright red, and he let out an exasperated sigh. "No! I do not have a stuffed horse." He crossed his arms tightly, glaring at you and Hyugo. "And I’m not answering that."

You grinned, fully entertained. "Aww, come on, Sol. You can’t just drop a bomb like that and not tell me the name of your precious horse plush. What’s it called?"

"I said no," Sol growled, looking away with a flushed face. He looked so cute when he was flustered, and you couldn’t resist teasing him further.

The conversation took a turn for the darker after that. You, Sol, and Hyugo sat quietly, watching as a group of high-class individuals walked by. Sol was the first to break the silence, his eyes narrowed in distaste. He muttered under his breath, "Tch, high-class mugs."

You didn’t reply to Sol’s remark. Instead, you focused on the scene before you. There was something about the way they carried themselves—so poised, so perfect—that made everything feel distant. A cold knot settled in your chest.

Hyugo then, told abut learned about Hierarchy, High class.

Hyugo noticed the shift in your demeanor and turned to you, his usual warmth gone, replaced with concern. "Hey, you okay?" he asked gently.

You didn’t respond immediately. Your thoughts drifted, and you suddenly recalled the dream—the one that haunted you for years. Four years ago. You couldn’t shake the feeling it was all connected somehow.

Hyugo seemed to sense your unease. He raised an eyebrow, his voice quieter. "Let me guess... It's something you can't avoid?" he asked, almost like he already knew the answer.

You exhaled slowly, your thoughts heavy. "I honestly don't know... My father never really explained why we were in debt," you murmured. "I was just desperate not to lose our home... three jobs, giving out personal information... Everything was hard, and we weren’t getting enough money." You trailed off, feeling the weight of it all again.

Silence fell between you, the heavy atmosphere surrounding you like a fog. It felt like there was something more you couldn’t escape, something always lurking in the back of your mind. Something you had to do, but you couldn’t figure out how.

After a moment, you looked up, meeting Hyugo’s concerned gaze. "My father owns a farm down south," you said, trying to sound casual. "Not much—just horses, cows, maybe some wheat."

Hyugo’s eyes lit up at that. "Horses? Sol would love that place!" he said, his smile bright and eager. "Hey, you should take me and Sol sometime! We could check it out!"

You nodded, offering a small smile. "Yeah, I’ll count on it."

Hyugo leaned back, still looking thoughtful. "You’ve been away from home for a long time... don’t you miss it?" he asked, genuinely curious.

You shook your head slowly. "Not really," you said, the words feeling strange even as they left your lips. It wasn’t that you didn’t miss the familiarity of home, but the things you’d left behind felt like a distant memory now.

Hyugo smiled softly, a look of understanding in his eyes. "You remind me of them," he said, almost to himself.

"Who?" you asked, confused.

Hyugo looked a little flustered. "Ah, nothing, nothing!" He quickly recovered with a smile. "I was rambling, forget about it."

You gave him a curious glance but didn’t press him further.

You felt a chill run down your spine as you noticed Sol standing behind you, casting a glance at Hyugo. It wasn’t just any look; it was a glare. A look full of irritation and... jealousy? You couldn’t help but smirk under your breath. "God, for real," you mumbled, feeling amused. "His jealousy is off the charts..."

You couldn’t resist letting out a quiet giggle. It was nice knowing that Sol cared, even if his emotions were all over the place. It was just another reminder that you had control—well, a little.

Hyugo, unaware of the silent tension between you and Sol, waved his hands at both of you, his usual cheerfulness cutting through the mood. "Come on, you two, let’s get going!" he said, already moving towards the stairs.

You and Sol exchanged a brief look before both of you nodded and followed him.

you walked down the stairs, a sense of unease lingered in the air. The wobbly steps beneath you made each movement feel uncertain. You caught a glimpse of Sol’s gaze, and for a moment, he looked at you like he was weighing something. His expression darkened just slightly.

You almost didn’t notice the step beneath you, and before you could steady yourself, your foot slipped, sending you off balance. You gasped in surprise, but just as quickly, a hand gripped your waist and another caught you by the back.

Sol’s voice sounded beside your ear, his surprise evident. "Y/n!" he called, his body pressing against yours to steady you. His chest was right against your back, and the warmth from his body wrapped around you like a comfort, even as his hand gripped your waist a little tighter, keeping you from falling completely.

You winced slightly as your foot throbbed in pain, but you didn’t want to let go of the moment. His touch felt so steady, so protective. "Ouch..." you whimpered softly, a hint of vulnerability slipping into your voice.

Sol’s face softened as he leaned down, his breath grazing your neck as he whispered, "Be careful, Y/n..." The concern in his voice melted your heart, and you almost forgot about the pain in your foot, focused instead on how close he was to you.

You felt his grip tighten, pulling you even closer against him, and you couldn’t help but sigh, your heart racing. You made sure to let yourself fall just a little more into him, your body practically melting against his. His hand never left your waist, and the contact sent shivers down your spine.

Hyugo’s voice suddenly broke the moment, his tone annoyed. "Fuck this school," he muttered, glancing back at you two, clearly fed up with the situation.

Sol’s grip didn’t falter. "It's forbidden for you to come here," he said sharply, his voice laced with an authority that almost made you feel like it was a command. Hyugo let out a dramatic laugh and darted down the stairs, running ahead. "We're troublemakers."

Sol glanced at you, his face still slightly anxious. "Let’s get you down the stairs," he said, his hand continuing to rest on your waist. He helped you walk, his touch so gentle but firm, making you feel both cared for and... completely loved.

You acted a little more helpless than you needed to, making sure your steps were slow, and your foot hurt just enough for him to keep holding you. Each time he adjusted his grip, you felt your heart flutter. His hand was warm against your skin, and it didn’t leave your waist—not once. Every time he touched you, you felt like you could melt into him. It was hard not to feel a little love-sick with the way he held you so closely, the way he seemed so intent on making sure you were okay, even if it was just walking down a set of stairs.

#visual novel #the kid at the back vn #tkatb #tkatb sol #tkatb x reader #solivan brugmansia #solvian x reader #sol x reader #the kid at the back sol #the kid at the back x reader #the kid at the back crowe #sol brugmansia #tkatb vn #tkatb crowe #tkatb sol x reader

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pandapetals · 1 day ago

Text

Arm Wrestle

Remy bets Logan to arm wrestle leading to chaos.

professor logan howlett x professor fem!reader - established relationship (y'all married), cute, fluff, teasing, no y/n used, no reader description, your an english professor, logan is a history professor - imagine days of future past logan with the white streaks in his hair

a/n: Another brilliant idea inspired by @she-loves-wolvie and the tikok she sent me.

read on ao3 or find more parts for the series: here

The living room buzzed with low chatter as everyone gathered around the coffee table, uno cards fanned out in their hands. Ororo was lounging gracefully on the couch, Hank sat cross-legged on the floor with an air of calm concentration, and Scott was already in team leader mode , explaining the rules like this was some kind of world-saving operation.

“Does everyone understand the rules?” Scott asked, scanning the group like he expected someone to whip out a notepad.

“It’s uno,” Hank replied, arching an eyebrow. “I think we’ve got it covered, fearless leader.”

“Honestly, we could’ve played something more exciting,” Remy chimed in with a dramatic sigh, leaning back on his palms. “Poker’s always a good choice.”

Scott groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose. “We would be playing poker if someone didn’t turn every game into some raunchy ‘flirt with Rogue’ fest.”

You chuckled as Remy smirked unapologetically. “What can I say? I like raisin’ the stakes—especially when ma chérie is playin’.”

Your grin widened as you leaned forward. “Speaking of, where is Rogue tonight? You’re actually here without her?”

Remy shrugged, looking vaguely offended. “She’s out with Jean. I’m a gentleman, cher. I give her space.”

Scott muttered something under his breath about miracles, but you ignored him, turning your attention back to your cards. The first round went well enough, with everyone groaning over +4 cards and loudly accusing Remy of stacking the deck. But by the third game, the excitement had dwindled. Ororo sighed dramatically as Hank leaned back against the couch, looking mildly bored.

“Okay,” Remy said, slapping his cards down on the table. “Uno ain’t doin’ it for me. We need somethin’ else.”

“And by ‘something else,’ you mean something chaotic,” Ororo quipped, rolling her eyes.

Before anyone could respond, Logan walked into the room, hands tucked into the pockets of his jeans. He was clearly looking for you, his eyes scanning the group until they landed on you.

“Hey, darlin’,” he greeted, his voice low and gravelly.

Remy perked up instantly, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Well, well. Look who’s here. Logan, you ever been good at arm wrestlin’?”

Logan raised an eyebrow, his gaze flicking to the table, then back to Remy. “What’re you talkin’ about, Cajun?”

Remy leaned forward, grinning. “How ‘bout a little challenge? One hundred bucks says I can take you.”

Ororo groaned, pushing herself to her feet. “That’s my cue to leave. I’ve seen this show before.” She gave you a knowing look before heading out of the room.

Logan smirked, walking closer. “You wanna arm wrestle me? For a hundred bucks?”

Remy shrugged. “What can I say? I’m feelin’ lucky tonight.”

Logan let out a low chuckle, pulling a chair over to the table. “Alright, let’s see what you’ve got.”

The room buzzed with excitement as everyone gathered around. Scott was already placing bets. “Hank’s the only one who might have a shot,” he whispered to Kurt. You leaned back on the couch, watching the scene unfold with an amused smile.

Logan planted his elbow on the table, his arm flexing as he waited for Remy to grasp his hand. “Don’t cry when you lose,” he said, his smirk widening.

Remy matched his smirk. “You talk big, mon ami . Let’s see if you can back it up.”

The match lasted less than ten seconds. Remy strained, his face turning red as Logan barely budged, his smirk never wavering. With a casual flick of his wrist, Logan slammed Remy’s hand down onto the table.

“Pay up,” Logan said, holding out his hand.

“Dammit,” Remy muttered, pulling out his wallet as the rest of the group burst into laughter.

One by one, Scott, Hank, and even Kurt tried their luck, each meeting the same fate. Hank came the closest, his muscles straining as he almost— almost —managed to push Logan’s arm down, but Logan held firm, finishing the match with a grunt of effort.

“Nice try, big guy,” Logan said, clapping Hank on the shoulder.

“That… was impressive,” Hank admitted, shaking out his arm.

As the guys continued to grumble and tease each other, you stood from the couch, a playful glint in your eye. “Alright, my turn.”

Logan’s head snapped toward you, his expression instantly shifting to something more serious. “No way, sweetheart.”

“Why not?” you challenged, crossing your arms.

“‘Cause I’m not gonna arm wrestle you,” he said firmly. “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

You rolled your eyes, stepping closer to the table. “Logan, I’m not made of glass. And besides, you’ve been beating everyone all night. Let me take you down a peg.”

The guys burst into laughter, clearly enjoying the idea.

“Come on, Logan,” Scott said, grinning. “You afraid of your wife?”

Logan shot him a glare. “Watch it, Summers.”

But you weren’t backing down. You moved to the table, sitting across from him and resting your elbow on the surface. “What’s the matter, tough guy? Afraid you might lose?”

Logan let out a low growl, his hazel eyes narrowing. “Fine,” he muttered, leaning forward and clasping your hand in his. “But don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

The moment your hands connected, you felt the rough warmth of his palm against yours, and you couldn’t help the small smile that tugged at your lips. “Ready?”

“Ready,” he rumbled, his eyes locked on yours.

Scott counted down, and the match began. Logan was holding back—you could feel it—but you didn’t mind. You weren’t planning to win with strength.

As he focused on your hands, you tilted your head, giving him a soft, playful look that you knew always got to him. “You know,” you murmured, your voice teasing, “I think this might be the first time I’ve ever seen you look nervous.”

Logan’s grip faltered for a split second, his gaze flicking to your face—and that was all you needed. With a triumphant laugh, you pushed his hand down onto the table, slamming it against the surface.

The room erupted into cheers and laughter as you leaned back, grinning.

“I win,” you declared, holding out your hand to Remy. “Pay up.”

Remy laughed, handing you a crisp hundred-dollar bill. “Remind me never to bet against you, cher.”

Logan shook his head, a grudging smile tugging at his lips. “That was low, darlin’.”

You leaned down, pressing a kiss to his cheek. “All’s fair in love and arm wrestling.”

Scott clapped Logan on the back, laughing. “Looks like the Wolverine’s got a weakness after all.”

��Yeah,” Logan muttered, pulling you into his lap with a smirk. “And I wouldn’t trade her for anything.”

The group dissolved into more laughter and teasing, but all you could focus on was the warmth of Logan’s arms around you, his soft chuckle in your ear as he whispered, “You’re somethin’ else, sweetheart.”

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writingfics-passingtime · 24 hours ago

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Bucky and queen song

Waving Your Banner

This drabble is part of JJ’s Mixtape - a mini series based on my followers’ favourite songs and characters. You can read more of them here!

Song Prompt: We Will Rock You - Queen

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader (flirtatious, no pronouns used)

Word Count: ~1300

CW: swearing, some flirting, suggestive jokes, a bit of tickling

minors dni: this work does not contain smut, but does contain a flirtatious/suggestive interaction between the reader and an adult-aged character. I am not comfortable with engagement from anyone under the age of 18. Thank you for your understanding and respect.

Note: Thanks, anon! My initial note-to-self from when you first sent this was, verbatim, "okay but dodgeball would be fucken hilarious with we will rock you" - so we've gone with an Avengers training game vibe with this one

The woods hummed with tension, broken by the occasional crack of a branch or the muffled thud of boots. The Avengers had turned what should’ve been a simple training game into an all-out war, and your team was desperate to gain the upper hand. Somewhere ahead, in the shadow of the tree-line, stood the final obstacle: Bucky Barnes, silent, brooding, and lethal, guarding his team’s flag, the White Wolf circling his den.

You crouched beside Sam behind a cluster of bushes, your pulse steady but sharp as you surveyed the terrain. Bucky was right where you expected him, leaning casually against a tree just outside the flag's perimeter. He looked calm, detached even, but you knew better. The slightest flicker of movement would set him in motion, and if he was after you, there’d be no escaping. Flag perimeters were a no-fly-zone, so you and Sam would have to take it on foot.

“Alright,” Sam said, breaking the silence. “We need a plan. And by we, I mean you, because I’m not getting anywhere near the Winter Soldier.”

You shot him an incredulous look. “You’re faster than me.”

“He’s a wall. A brick wall with trust issues and superhuman reflexes.”

You sighed, pressing your back against the thick trunk of a tree. “Then we need a distraction. Something that’ll actually make him move.”

Sam raised a brow. “Oh, yeah? What’s your genius plan?”

“You,” you said, giving him a pointed look. “You could bait him. Taunt him. Goad him into leaving his post.”

“And get steamrolled by the murder machine? Hard pass.” He scoffed. "Besides, you’re obviously better bait.”

The heat rushed to your face immediately. “Excuse me?”

“Oh, come on,” Sam teased, his grin widening. “You’ve got that whole… thing going on.”

“What thing?”

He waved a hand vaguely at you. “You know. The whole ‘badass with a secret soft side’ thing. He’ll eat it up. Hell, I think the whole team’s noticed the way he looks at you.”

You glared at him. “You’re out of your damn mind.”

“He does,” Sam interrupted, revelling in your reaction. “Come on, you could probably get him to do whatever you wanted. Just say something like, ‘Oh, Bucky, is that a vibranium arm or are you just happy to see m-”

You shoved him into the bush.

Sam tried to silence his little grunts as he pulled himself out, yanking the twigs from his armour plates. “Fine. You wanna argue about this all day, or should we win?”

You sighed, rolling your eyes. “Just send in Redwing.”

“Whatever you say, boss.”

The plan was simple enough: Redwing would create a distraction in a bush behind Bucky, luring him away from the flag, giving you and Sam time to move in and grab it. You moved carefully, keeping low as you crept through the underbrush. The tension in the air was electric, every rustle of leaves amplified by your own awareness of how close Bucky was.

But, true to form, Sam couldn’t resist screwing with you.

As you crept closer to the clearing, Redwing darted toward you and made a ruckus in the bush partially shielding you from view. It was more than enough to give you away, and before you could even curse Sam’s name, you heard it - the unmistakable sound of boots crunching leaves, closing in fast.

Your head whipped around just in time to see Bucky moving toward you with the kind of speed that made your heart stutter. His expression was sharp, predatory, and - gods help you - just a little amused.

“Shit,” you muttered, bolting from your hiding spot.

“Running won’t help you,” Bucky called after you, his voice dark and smooth, laced with amusement.

You didn’t bother responding, too focused on dodging tree trunks and low-hanging branches. But it didn’t matter how fast you ran; he was faster. In seconds, a strong arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you clean off your feet.

“Gotcha,” he murmured, his voice low in your ear.

“Not yet, you don’t,” you growled, twisting sharply in his grip.

You elbowed him in the side, breaking free for a split second, but he was faster. He blocked your next move, his vibranium hand catching your wrist and spinning you around. You didn’t go down without a fight, aiming a kick at his shin and struggling against his hold, refusing to make it easy for him.

“Feisty,” he muttered, almost admiringly, his grip tightening as you wrestled.

You managed to get one arm free, landing a half-decent shove against his chest. He staggered back slightly but recovered in less than an instant, his smirk returning, sharper than before.

“Alright,” he said, his voice edged with amusement, “you wanna play rough? Let’s play rough.”

Before you could react, he was on you, trapping you between his body and the wide trunk of a tree. His fingers darted to your ribs, pressing against your sides with infuriating precision.

You jolted, a startled laugh bursting out before you could stop it. “What the fu- hey! No, that’s cheating!”

“Cheating?” he echoed, his grin widening as he tickled you again, this time catching your waist. “You’re the one trying to fight dirty.”

You squirmed, trying to slap his hands away, but the tickling was relentless, and your traitorous laughter left you weak, your arms useless.

“No! I- dammit, Barnes!”

Seizing the moment, he stepped back, grabbed both your wrists and yanked you against him, hauling you effortlessly over his shoulder. You kicked your legs in protest, but his grip was unyielding, his hand steady against the backs of your thighs.

“Put me down!” you demanded, pounding your fists against his unfairly muscled back.

“Not until you’re in jail,” he said, his voice low and smooth, the vibration of it sending a shiver through you.

“This is cruel and unusual punishment,” you grumbled, your cheeks burning as you felt his arm tighten around your thighs.

He chuckled, the sound warm and agonising. “Unusual, maybe. But I’d say you’re enjoying it.”

“Barnes!” you snapped, squirming harder.

His laughter deepened, and he carried you with an ease that was both infuriating and maddeningly attractive. When he finally stopped, he set you down just outside the jail, his hands lingering at your waist.

“Let me go,” you said, though the bite in your tone had softened.

He stepped closer, his body a looming presence as his eyes bore into yours. “Say please.”

You scowled, refusing to give him the satisfaction.

“Didn’t think so,” he said, his smirk widening as he stepped forward, forcing you to step back - straight into the jail’s boundary.

You glared at him, your chest heaving as he stood just inches away, his gaze dark and intent. “Happy now?”

“Not yet,” he murmured, his voice a low rasp, “but close.”

Before you could fire back, Sam’s triumphant whoop echoed through the trees. You turned just in time to see him flying above your team's base with Bucky's team's flag, waving it over his head like a trophy.

Bucky groaned, his head falling back briefly before he levelled a sharp glare at you. “Distraction,” he muttered under his breath with a shake of his head, the word practically dripping with accusation.

Your lips curved into a coy smile despite yourself.

“You’re too damn good at it,” he said, his tone darker now, his gaze lingering on you for a moment longer than necessary before he turned and stalked off.

Flushed, you called after him. "This isn't over, Barnes!"

He chuckled, the sound sending a shiver down your spine, turning to face you as he walked backwards towards his next mission. "Not by a long shot."

#thanks anon!#ticklish!reader #marvel fanfiction #marvel tickle fluff #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky fic #bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky fanfic #the winter soldier #winter soldier #bucky drabble #bucky x gender neutral reader

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queer-ragnelle · 16 hours ago

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Understand is is a very weird question to get out the blue so no offence taken if this gets left in the inbox, but I was wondering how (if at all) to integrate transgender knights into arthurian retellings/adaptations ect while trying to keep it vaguely true to the medievalisms of the whole thing? I know its easy and liberating to just go 'fuck it everything queer' and its a totally valid way to go about it, but (as a trans person) I like having a narrative examine queerphobia and other structual issues with the setting - gives the whole thing a bit of meat (in my personal tastes). That being said, it feels like its a nightmare to try and have a transmasc knight stay stealth in this place! Everyone feels like theyre getting stipped and tended to after breaking a rib in a joust or merlin shows up and is a dick about pronouns and outs you to get you married to a Roman king. Stuff like that - things that feel a little easier to dodge when its a civillian character, not an ruling class.

Is this a 'kill the cop in your brain' kinda deal? As a queer storyteller yourself do you have any tips or strategies or tools you use to crowbar this kinda stuff a little easier together? Or do you know any stories/retellings/academic texts ect that cover these kinda things (even if its in a 'for the love of god, don't do that' way). Love the work you do for this fandom a lot, regardless of your answer! Hope you have a good day.

Hello anon! This is a great question.

Now let me preface this by saying I’m not transgender and I’m not a medievalist. There are plenty of trans medievalists on tumblr, but I’m not one of ‘em. So my answer is coming from a queer but cis author and enthusiast perspective. I'm going to provide lots of links to read things as well so everyone can draw their own conclusions from the material.

I think a large part of this does come down to “kill the cop in your head.” But at the same time, I’ve been exactly where you are wondering, “How can I make this story feel authentic to its era without torturing the trans characters?” Because you’re right, there’s a lot of nudity and close proximity interaction between knights in the medieval stories and Merlin is totally the type to be a dick about pronouns. I've also searched and struggled to find a medieval-set story that manages to incorporate queerness in a period-appropriate way (so far as we can guess) while balancing the narrative as to not tip into something deeply unpleasant for the target audience to read. (See: the series by Lavinia Collins, which has great queer rep, yay! But tons of horrors previously unseen and still unnecessary, boo!) So where does that leave us?

Well first I’m going to give you an example of how not to handle transness in an Arthurian story....

The book Once & Future and its sequel Sword in the Stars by Amy Rose Capetta and Cory McCarthy went with the phenomenon you already described as, “fuck it, everything queer.” It doesn't take place in the past, but does use the medieval stories as more than reference, it's not as divergent as something like Port Eternity by C. J. Cherryh, the reincarnated characters do interact with the past directly at times, so I'm using it as an example.

Anyway most characters are either gay (umbrella term) or trans. Except the way trans characters are treated sucks majorly (in my opinion). I completely lost faith in book 1 after the introduction of Lamorak, a gender fluid knight who uses they/them pronouns. Merlin misgenders them and gets corrected by Kay, to which Merlin does this whole self flagellation routine about. Lamorak is also disabled, missing their left hand. (Why isn't it Bedwyr? Anyway not the point...) Lamorak gets no dialogue here whatsoever, all agency is completely stripped from them regarding their disability and their gender identity. Double whammy.

This is worsened when Percival gets introduced, as Merlin then makes a point of asking for pronoun clarification in the most obnoxious way possible. To which Percival takes no offense at the weird slight against his sibling and tells Merlin his pronouns.

But what about the sequel? Surely these two queer authors improved with time.....

Is this a joke? Is this the best way they could indicate the inclusive realm of Avalon? Why not just describe the women as they are, all shapes and sizes, and let the reader figure it out? The authorial intent would be so obvious by this point. Instead they say it… like that. Gag.

It only gets worse when Mordred is born. Then they're weird about a literal infant.

What in the bio essentialism? If the characters have been living in a future that’s broken out of the gender binary, the baby’s genitals should be irrelevant. Gwen’s literally saying Mordred is going to fulfill the evil prophecy because he was born with a penis. Even if this is intended to be a teaching moment, I hate how it’s handled. These quotes are in order of appearance in the books, so after the subtextual implications of all that came before, this last part really doesn’t sit right with me. Sorry I find these books completely abhorrent. They've won awards, they’re beloved by many. Maybe it's me. But no thanks.

Honestly, so long as you're not blatantly offensive with your handling of such things, I think you'll be fine. It's important to remember that even if one is part of a demographic they're depicting, it's always a good idea to hire sensitivity readers and take that feedback seriously. Not everyone will love your work, there will be advice you don't utilize, with time you'll be able to weed out the bad faith feedback, (the "all depiction is glorification" crowd) and ignore it. But it's so important to open oneself up to constructive criticism so you can learn and your work can develop into the best possible version of itself.

Now let's get to some ways you can go about researching a way to do this that fits in your story. It’s important to remember that throughout human history, many people lived stealth their whole lives and we don’t know about them for that reason, not because no transgender folks ever lived authentically and happily in medieval times. So it’s never impossible to incorporate a trans character into a story who experiences no direct violence, even if the world they live in isn’t presented as a queer utopia. The other thing is that public opinion regarding queerness, cross dressing, etc have varied a lot over the centuries and were vastly different depending on location. Not every “woman” found in armor would have been treated as poorly as Joan of Arc. So there’s lots of wiggle room for interpretation when you go about writing these narratives. The majority of my examples deal with the ruling class so they address the concerns you mentioned with added scrutiny a noble would face if they were to experiment with gender presentation compared to a commoner. I’ll be spoiling the plots of everything on the list to make clear why I’m suggesting them.

My initial advice would be to read medieval literature with queer themes followed by essays on the subject. The best examples I know of are:

Yde et Olive

Transmasc knight (good ending). 12th century French romance. Yde’s mother Clarisse died giving birth to her & later when Yde reaches maturity, her father makes advances, so she disguises herself as a man & flees. Yde becomes a successful knight & is married to the king’s only daughter, Olive. When it comes time to consummate the marriage, Yde must confess the truth of his identity to Olive, who vows to keep it secret. This is overheard by the king who then attempts to uncover Yde’s identity but is stopped by an angel who chastises the king for harassing such a good vassal. Then Yde is transformed into a man, the king dies, & Yde is able to have a child with Olive. They name him Croissant as if it couldn’t get any more French than it already was. Anyway the story alternates pronouns for Yde given the situation which is pretty neat & in the end he gets to live his best life! Yay!

Le Roman de Silence

Transmasc knight (bad ending). A 13th century French romance about a baby girl named Silence. Silence is raised as a boy because King Eban won’t allow women to inherit property. Like many medieval romances, the hero's adventure is often punctuated with personified emotions (Dame Fortune, Lady Love, etc) but Silence is tormented by Nature & Nurture as he comes into adulthood. He becomes a knight & eventually takes on an "impossible" quest, to capture Merlin, which supposedly can only be done by a woman. Content warning for the ending, it does not go well for Silence. Merlin reveals his backstory, & he’s forced to take a feminized version of his name, live as a woman, & marry the king to keep his lands.

Wigalois by Wirnt von Grafenberg

A 13th century German romance that follows Gawain’s son, Wigalois [Gingalain], but this ain’t about him. There’s a character Marine who fights as a knight. She’s consistently referred to with she/her pronouns, but she’s renowned for her knightly virtues & fights alongside the men in the war. She’s treated very well narratively & dies in battle after apprehending a high-value hostage. Everyone mourns her & there’s a big funeral held in her honor. So even if Marine never presented herself as a man the way Yde or Silence do, she provides an example of a female thriving in a male role. Food for thought.

Parzival by Wolfram von Eschenbach

Another German banger from the 13th century. This one’s about a cis male knight but Parzival has transmasc vibes. Trust me. Here’s my favorite article about it called The Clothes Make The Man - Parzival Dressed & Undressed by Michael D. Amey that really illustrates what I mean.

After that, you can check out these retellings:

The Story of Silence by Alex Myers

I bought this but haven't read it yet. It’s a retelling about the aforementioned Le Roman de Silence. This book uses neutral they/them pronouns to refer to Silence, which I can say from experience sometimes causes confusion with readers, so it's good to study how this author did it & determine if that method feels right for you. (If you ever decide to do something like that with a character.)

Spear by Nicola Griffith + Spear's Author's Note

I enjoyed this one, beautiful prose. It didn’t feel like the most comprehensive Grail Quest retelling, but Peretur can be interpreted as a butch lesbian or transmasc, it’s ambiguous. She only uses masculine pronouns when stealth, otherwise using she/her, but it has a happy ending! It’s firmly set in the era & felt authentic on that front while letting the queer characters relax. Peretur isn’t alone. (A/G/L enjoyers keep winning + sapphic lady of the lake ftw + the other hotties Peretur pulled.) Definitely worth checking out.

The Bright Sword by Lev Grossman

This book just came out in 2024. Including it here is already a spoiler given the topic but I’m going to spoil fully from this point on so ignore this if that’s a problem. This is the best example I can give for your reading/writing tastes based on the ask; Dinadan is a trans man. His transness isn’t revealed in the main character Collum’s pov, but in Dinadan’s backstory pov, opening in his childhood. He & his twin brother were sent to different schools but young Dinadan would leave the girl’s school to practice knightly skills with the fay, which retroactively explains why he has a fairy sword that Collum was admiring. In exchange for this training, the fay ask that Dinadan slay Merlin. Which he agrees to while never believing he actually can, but the wrath of the fay in the afterlife is worth his ability to live as a knight. I love how it was all handled firstly because Dinadan has a fighting style that works for his smaller frame & because every knight has a different fighting style (Dagonet’s is “If it sucks hit da bricks.”) Dinadan doesn’t stick out like a sore thumb yet his physicality is accounted for. Secondly Dinadan explains the lengths he goes to in order to stay stealth from obvious ones like binding his breasts to pretending to shave his face every couple days & wearing a packer. Later on, Dinadan’s secrets are revealed when he goes swimming in the ocean with Palomides (who evidentially already knew) & Collum joins them. Collum had no idea, which I think brings up an interesting point about all of this which also reminds me of Gawain not recognizing that Beaumains was Gareth—the power of expectation. Just as Gawain expected to find a kitchen boy & would have no reason to assume his brother (who hit puberty since they last saw each other) would be stealth in the kitchens so therefore didn’t recognize him, Collum expects to find men as knights of the Round Table, so when Sir Dinadan is introduced, & Collum had heard of him before, Dinadan’s stature & high voice don’t register to Collum as anything but traits that this guy Dinadan happens to have. Learning Dinadan’s secret in the presence of another knight who already knows & is chill about it also encourages Collum to be accepting too. So giving Dinadan at least one ally in his corner throughout the story went a long way. In the end Merlin, who can only be killed by a man (which is why Nimue had to settle for sealing him away) is stabbed by Dinadan. So it’s like a reverse Silence/Éowyn situation that Dinadan’s gender is affirmed in his ability to kill Merlin. This book also includes the part from Le Morte d’Arthur where Dinadan’s forced to wear a dress, which in this context is very transphobic, but that’s the point. It’s made better when Dinadan gets to go insano style on Merlin so he gets payback. Just a heads up about that.

Some fantasy/scifi that’s not Arthurian but may help, as Arthuriana is largely fantasy to begin with, this may help you determine where on the spectrum your taste/writing falls regarding the bending of reality/history to fit your narrative.

Orlando: A Biography by Virginia Woolf

1928 novel about a character named Orlando living during the reign of Elizabeth I. Orlando is born male, then at some point in his early adulthood, falls into a deep sleep from which he awakens the exact same person, now metamorphosed to be female. Orlando, for her part, adopts this new role immediately & keeps on moving. She lives for 300 years as such & has many adventures, including an instance where she then presents as a man to elude marriage. Transitioned so she could cross dress in the other direction. She would’ve done numbers on tumblr. Ultimately, Orlando does marry… a gnc sea captain! The success of their marriage is attributed to their similarities in gender non-conformity. Even though this book only remains in the late medieval era for the opening, I think it’s a poignant example of a transgender individual living their life in their time & still getting to enjoy themselves without excessive suffering that may provide lots of inspiration.

The Left Hand of Darkness by Ursula K Le Guin

1970 Hugo & Nebula award winning novel. A fascinating examination of gender from the point of view of a cis man named Genly Ai having to reconcile his interpretation of the gender binary when confronted with a society who operates outside that. His travels with ambisexual Estravan challenges what Ai understands about the universe. His ignorance forms the backbone of the narrative as he grows close to a person from this other society. Even if it’s not a medieval setting, it may help you develop a narrative voice regarding this subject you’re able to bring to your work. Also it’s just really good.

The Privilege of the Sword by Ellen Kushner

2007 Locus award winner, Nebula & Gaylactic Spectrum nominee. High fantasy medieval setting. Katherine is a country girl brought to the big city Riverside by her uncle the Duke where she’s offered the opportunity to train as swordsman (ie cross dress) instead of political marriage. She’s unsure of the reasoning behind her uncle’s motivations for doing this, but goes along with it & kicks ass. A preview is available on Google books (linked).

The Realm of the Elderlings by Robin Hobb

This is my favorite series ever. It spans 16 books published between 1995-2017. The fandom on tumblr & ao3 is hugely active. (Avoid tags to dodge major spoilers or check it out for amazing art & many quotes!) The series has many gnc characters in a fantasy medieval setting. First & foremost, The Fool, who’s in all the books & whose gender ambiguity is mentioned book 1, to which he says, “None of your business.” The character ever. Without getting too specific, there are several trans characters including gender fluid characters who will alternate between masc/fem presentation & pronouns. This is my favorite example of gender fluid characters in any fantasy I’ve read, especially since there are several & each feels unique. In The Liveship Traders trilogy, Amber coaches another woman how to hide her period while pretending to be a ship’s boy by using a sock, so if anyone finds the blood on it, she can say she cut her foot. Little things like that really deepened the realism in an otherwise fantastical story for me, because addressing those details answers questions my overly analytical mind would ask & wonder about if unacknowledged.

Lastly I'd like to suggest the article Armour of an Alienating Identity by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen. While it doesn't mention Parzival (the text), it does mention Perceval (the character), as well as Gareth Beaumains, Lancelot, Gawain, Yvain, and even Arthur himself. It goes on to reference endless examples to support its thesis including Greek heroes such as Achilles and Odysseus with references to many different medieval stories from Old English Beowulf to the Irish Ulster cycle to the works of Geoffrey Chaucer. Most (if not all) of the texts mentioned in this essay can be found on my blog for cross reference if you desire, although the article already contains many quotes.

Okay I think that’s all I got. I’ve given you a ton to think about and read. Ultimately I don’t think there’s a clean cut answer for this. Nuance, you know? Having hired an editor and many sensitivity readers myself, it really is just a professional a vibe check sometimes. You write what you want to the best of your ability, then other people weigh in, and you keep tweaking it until it’s as good as you can possibly make it. During development, and even in its final form, there will be people who don’t enjoy your story and that’s fine. It isn’t for everyone, it’s for you and your audience. No single experience in this life is the same so each fictional depiction emulating life will also be unique, there’s no “right” answer on how to write this or anything else, only the way you want to.

Hopefully now you have some tools to help you learn how best to express your vision. I know they gave me a lot of insight and ideas I lacked before when writing trans characters in my books. Thank you for trusting me with this question and good luck with your project! Take care! :^)

#arthuriana #arthurian legend #arthurian mythology #arthurian literature #queer #lgbtqia #lgbtq community #trans #transgender #transmasc #transfem #nonbinary #genderfluid #genderqueer #writing #ask #anonymous

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sgiandubh · 2 days ago

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Thank you for the detailed explanation of the financial and administrative situation and the investors' shares, Caitriona.

But is it normal for the role of her personal assistant to extend to her commercial investments?

Outlander is over, what is the explanation for Tony joining a new company in October?

Do you have a deeper vision for this madness that has been going on since the appearance of the so-called Tony in Caitriona and Sam's lives?

Dear Detailed Explanation Anon,

I am sorry, honey, but I am certainly not C, nor (to be honest) would I ever want to be. I am perfectly happy with my own life and adventures. I will answer your questions in order, rather quickly.

Yes, it is perfectly normal and legal, once you know and understand some easy UK company law ropes I discussed in my answer to @bat-cat-reader's Director Anon, yesterday evening. As long as C remains the sole PSC in that company, he has no legal means to pretend to anything she owns in her own right. One more time, his position can be easily revoked anytime and I do think that the only reason he is present there, in that capacity, is because he needs to have a modicum of dignity/status, in the process. Please note that 'Director' seems to be the favorite 'occupation' he likes to mention in almost all of his business/company documents (and I even think on that Marriage Certificate, too, if I am not mistaken). This is what he wants to look like, this is his jam. What do I think about it? I think it is a bit childish, it's a bit like putting 'Expert' on my own business card (expert in what exactly? climate change? mixology? late Mycenean pottery?), which of course I don't. If anything, Anon, it is harmless enough and vague enough. Count your blessings and remember that before thinking marriage or relationship, the first thing that comes to mind is perhaps 'arrangement', when it comes to these people. A mutually profitable (and also very lucrative for one of them) one, at that. Mark me. I am ready to die on that hill.

T joining a new company in October? You should have your eyes checked, Anon. Byron Benirras is anything but new, in my book. It's been around for ever and it is her dedicated, visible and traceable money stash. Her credit score, her taxes, her revenue are based on its accounts. Why is he there now? I already answered that part in my 'Two Questions Anon' and nope, sorry my dear, I will not budge. Use your critical thinking skills - I think you might know why, you just need validation. Consider it done, darling.

Do I have a deeper vision? The answer is the same as ever, Anon and sorry if it displeases you. In fact, I do have a deeper, wider vision. Will I further discuss it here? Nope. Not for all the tea in China. Why? Because this is not my call. I am not 12 and I am not a fool.

#anon #fandom #shitshow #business #legal

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teoft · 2 days ago

Text

It's like Tumblr has become almost a diary for me, thanks to no character limit and a read more button. This atmosphere of acceptance and understanding helps a lot too.

I'll get back to posting actual art, juggling with Twitter and Bluesky along with commissions is taking up a lot of my time.

Anyway, thoughts about art community and being social

For the longest time I've had this feeling of being an outsider in this vague community of artists that see as colleagues of sorts. Like I meet all the "criteria" of being in the group, and yet don't really feel like I'm part of it. Well, it seems I am right in some way, and the reason is that they interact with each other, while I sit here drawing alone.

Unfortunately I've always been prone to isolate myself from others. I grew up feeling like I should be ashamed of loving to draw, since it was always fanart monsters, creatures and cool guys instead of "proper art" like animals and portraits. Before social media, I only drew for myself and never showed anything to anybody. I hid my art from my family, from the world, so that I wouldn't be judged. I think it is one of the biggest reasons why I have trouble interacting with people in the context of art (tbh I'm shit at being social anyway but that's a whole another problem).

Even when I had a scanner and means to post my art online, I never did, due to the whole "if you put something online it'll be there forever" mindset. My first actual account anywhere online must've been Facebook in 2010ish, where I only had a few friends. It was the perfect place for me to finally post anything online, and so I did: I used to post pretty much everything I drew on there. Slowly gaining courage, I eventually made my original Tumblr account, then Deviantart, Twitter, etc.

Still, all I did was throw my art out there in hopes of somebody liking it. I didn't really know how to interact with the people who commented on my posts, so instead I mostly just... made more art. I did have some friend groups here and there, but either they ended up falling apart or my social battery drained in such a way that I slowly drifted away. I had gotten used to just being by myself and relying only on myself in the online art world.

During my design studies, I started putting more thought and work on promoting myself, so that it could be one career path for me to take. My mindset was that I'll work hard and become "big", even if it meant that one post gained me just one follower. In 2020 I ended up going viral with a meme and suddenly getting tens of thousands of followers. It was great and a welcome boost of morale, but unfortunately 2020 was otherwise one of the worst years in my life.

Throughout the years people have come and gone, so the only constant for me has been myself, and my drive to develop my skills. Thus it's been too easy for me to just isolate myself. In a way it has been my strength with regards to art, but sometimes I wish I knew how to make lasting connections. I think/know I might be autistic to some degree, which adds to the difficulty of being social. Though, to be honest, I don't know if I'd gotten this far without my autistic hyperfixations.

I guess the thing I need to do now to fix this problem of loneliness and isolation is to just... slowly try and be more social. To reply to comments and talk to people. All of which is easier said than done. Still, just gotta take that first step and then keep going.

Despite lacking the kind of community I yearn for, it seems I've made a name for myself, enough so that people seem to take pride in knowing me. Or at least that's the impression I've gotten a few times. But still, I am happy that I've had a positive effect on people. After all, my two main motivators in art are that I like doing it, and I like when people enjoy my art.

#Teoft rambles

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cripplecharacters · 1 day ago

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Hello. I am writing about a main character who has Down syndrome (12 years old). How does a child like her would react to mother death and moving to an old house? I want to be respectful while writing her.

Hi asker,

So there are a couple different things to think about.

For one, death of a loved one is hard for everyone, and the death of a parent is very difficult for pretty much all children. Change is hard, and this is a very permanent change that can be very traumatic because a person a kid expects to be with for way more time is now gone. The closer the child was to her mother, the harder this is going to be for her.

On change being hard, ID can make it harder for her to adapt to change. "Harder" does not mean "impossible." "Harder" means maybe they have to make a plan to help her transition to her new living space, maybe it needs to be explained to her more often, things like that. Maybe she needs support from lots of visuals, maybe she's asking questions a lot of the time, maybe she has trouble with doing things because of the stress. And this is from just the change of moving – all of this will likely be compounded with the stress of not having her mother. For this, people can try to help her by trying to provide as much of a sense of normalcy and trying to make sure she can have some sort of... it doesn't have to be a routine per se, just trying to make sure that some things don't change.

Abstract concepts are sometimes hard for kids, although less so by age 12 than for younger children. Abstract concepts can also be more difficult for people with intellectual disability (as is likely the case for your character with Down Syndrome). So, how is the death explained to her?

Best practice to explain death to children, including and especially kids with I/DD, is to use concrete and simple language. Euphemisms don't help much, especially for children, because euphemisms have context behind them that a child doesn't have. Euphemisms can also be misunderstood and unclear.

So, if she actually understands what's going on because people are explaining things to her in a way she can understand, ultimately this is going to be much better for her than if she doesn't understand that her mother isn't coming back because people keep being vague and saying things like "she's in a better place" and she keeps hoping to join her mom in this "better" place. Or it might take some time for her to understand the situation, and she might experience delayed grief.

Who is she moving with? Who is going to take care of her — she's a kid, she can't do it all by herself. Does she know them already? Is she just meeting them? If she's never met them before, this will probably be even more stressful to her — basically every single thing in her life is changing. That's huge. That's stressful and can be hard for her to understand why everything is different.

Overall, at the end of the day she's just a person, a child specifically, being put in an incredibly difficult situation. She has emotions like anyone else — there is a misconception that people with Down Syndrome are always happy, and that's just not true. They have

She's in a situation where adults with zero disabilities would probably have a super rough time as well. Add on to that being a kid, and add on to that being intellectually disabled, and it's probably going to be a really stressful situation. So, think about how your character reacts when she's stressed out, and factor in her disability.

Here's some links to grief and I/DD and grief and children. I have read through them, though not all of them at length. They do have information that you can use, whether on how she'd react or how others around her could react, but either way use your own judgement.

Helping People With Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities Process Grief by the Boggs Center on Developmental Disabilities (PDF file)

Responding to Grief Reactions of People with Intellectual and Developmental Disabilities by the Boggs Center on Developmental Disabilities (PDF File)

Bereavement In The Lives Of People With Intellectual Disabilities by the University of Hertfordshire's website on Intellectual Disability and Health

Managing Grief Better: People with Intellectual Disabilities by the University of Hertfordshire's website on Intellectual Disability and Health

Helping People With Intellectual Disabilities Cope With Loss by the Vanderbilt Kennedy Center (PDF File)

Hope this helps,

mod sparrow

#down syndrome representation #intellectual disability representation #parental death cw #mod sparrow #death tw #anonymous

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b1xi · 1 day ago

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───𝘊𝘜𝘗𝘐𝘋───ハイキュー!!

Tsukishima Kei(ハイキュー!!)x fem!reader

Word count:4009

𝙈𝙖𝙨𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙡𝙞𝙨𝙩

Anxiety clung to you throughout the day, manifesting in small, uncontrollable gestures. Your foot bounced nervously against the floor, setting an erratic rhythm, while you bit your lower lip every time your thoughts drifted to what Kimura might have discovered. The professor’s words felt distant, a background murmur unable to capture your attention. All your focus was on the clock, which seemed to move at a snail's pace.

Nayuta, sitting beside you, gave you an amused glance at some point, likely noticing your restlessness. "Relax, or you'll wear out the floor," she whispered with a sly smile, though she didn’t seem particularly concerned.

"That's easy for you to say," you murmured back, barely moving your lips. You knew Nayuta was used to dealing with situations that were unfamiliar to you; her confidence in Kimura was proof of that. But for you, having pinned your hopes on what seemed like rumors and gossip, the wait was unbearable.

When the bell finally rang to signal the end of classes, you almost jumped out of your seat. Nayuta, much calmer, gathered her things leisurely before looking at you. "Relax, Y/N. It's not a race," she joked as she adjusted her bag's strap.

"It is for me," you replied hurriedly, grabbing your backpack and heading for the door. Nayuta followed, chuckling under her breath.

"Y/N, come on!" Hinata called out enthusiastically as he took your arm, gently pulling you toward the gym. His energy seemed endless, as always.

"Shoyo, you go ahead. I'll catch up later," you replied with a conciliatory smile, stopping halfway down the hall. You raised your sheet music folder to show him. "I want to practice a bit today."

For a moment, Hinata looked disappointed; his shoulders dropped slightly. But true to his optimistic nature, he quickly recovered. "Oh... sure. Do you want me to let the coach know?" he asked with a mix of understanding and concern, making sure you didn’t need anything.

You shook your head gently. "No need. I'll tell him when I get there. Thanks, Shoyo."

"Alright, but don't take too long, okay?" He flashed you a bright smile before jogging down the hallway with his usual energy.

You walked with Nayuta by your side, her arm linked with yours as you made your way determinedly to the third floor. You stopped in front of a door with a sign that read Computer Lab. From inside, fragments of conversation, laughter, and murmurs filtered out, indicating that the club meeting was already in full swing.

"Welcome," Nayuta said lightly, opening the door with a casual gesture.

The interior was organized chaos, a reflection of the diversity of interests among the club members. Books were stacked on tables and scattered across the floor, some open and others balanced precariously. In one corner, three girls chatted cheerfully as they organized makeup products on an improvised rug. Their laughter contrasted with the two older boys sitting at a powered-off computer, clearly more interested in killing time than actively participating.

Your gaze inevitably drifted toward the center of the room, where Kimura was surrounded by a group of girls. They all held their phones, exchanging quick comments and soft laughter. Kimura seemed to dominate the scene with her characteristic confidence, her relaxed posture as she effortlessly conversed with the others.

Nayuta nudged you gently with her elbow, snapping you out of your thoughts. "Come on," she whispered.

You took a deep breath and followed your friend as the two of you crossed the room, navigating around books and people in your path. Kimura looked up at the sound of your footsteps, her blue eyes glinting with a mix of curiosity and barely contained amusement.

"Finally, you're here," Kimura said, setting her phone aside and motioning vaguely to the two chairs in front of her. She leaned back elegantly on the table, her elbows resting on the surface and her fingers interlaced, as if about to seal an important deal.

You and Nayuta sat down in silence. Without wasting time, your dark-haired friend pulled out a gift bag bearing Dior’s unmistakable black-and-white logo. Kimura’s eyes sparkled with genuine enthusiasm at the sight, as if the bag held the answer to all her dreams. However, Nayuta dropped the bag onto the table with a casual gesture, quickly pulling it out of Kimura’s reach before the blonde could lay a hand on it.

"Talk first," Nayuta ordered firmly, her gaze making it clear she wouldn’t tolerate any nonsense.

Kimura sighed theatrically, as if humoring you both reluctantly. Then she cast a meaningful glance at her nearby friends, who immediately got the message and stepped away, leaving the three of you with more privacy. Once the noise in the room faded to distant murmurs, Kimura leaned forward, a conspiratorial expression spreading across her face.

"Alright," she began, twirling a strand of her blonde hair, "it was a bit tricky, but I got it."

You made an effort to maintain your composure, though your hands betrayed your nerves as they gripped the edges of your skirt. Nayuta, on the other hand, remained unfazed, her expression expectant.

"Tsukishima Kei," she pronounced the name with deliberate pause, "does not have a girlfriend." Her words landed as a small relief, but her tone suggested there was more to it.

"That's it?" Nayuta asked, raising an eyebrow, clearly expecting something more substantial.

"That’s all I can confirm," Kimura clarified with a shrug. "The guy is... unusually private. He doesn’t talk much about his personal life, not even with his closest circle. I could swear I’ve never seen him show interest in anyone here, but if he ever had a girlfriend, it wouldn’t be easy to find out.”

A brief silence followed her words as you tried to process the mix of relief and frustration. It was an answer, but not a definitive one.

"So, in summary, he's single, but there's no way to know if he’s had something going on before," Nayuta summed up, turning toward you. "That’s something, isn’t it?"

Kimura smirked, clearly satisfied. "That’s all you’re getting from me, girls. Now, my reward." She extended her hand, her eyes gleaming, and Nayuta, after a few seconds of deliberation, finally slid the bag over to her with a resigned air.

"A deal’s a deal," Nayuta muttered as Kimura inspected the contents with obvious enthusiasm.

With nothing left to discuss, the two of you stood and left the room. Nayuta closed the door behind her with a soft click, and before she could take another step, you bowed deeply, your arms stiff at your sides and your forehead almost touching the floor.

"Nayuta, thank you," you exclaimed sincerely, your voice trembling slightly with emotion. "I promise I'll pay you back for what you spent on that perfume."

Nayuta's soft laughter broke the solemn moment. "Enough of that," she said as she stepped closer and placed a light hand on your shoulder, guiding you to straighten up. Once you stood upright, her warm and friendly eyes met yours.

You stayed silent for a moment, biting your lip as you tried to process her words. Nayuta was direct and, at times, blunt, but in moments like this, her genuine support left you speechless.

"Honestly, Yuyu, I don’t know what I’d do without you," you admitted finally, allowing yourself a small smile.

"I don’t know what I’d do without you either," Nayuta replied with a rare touch of sweetness before shrugging with her usual carefree disdain. "Well, at least we know he doesn’t have a girlfriend. That’s a start."

She turned to open the door to the computer lab again, throwing you one last look filled with complicity. "See you tomorrow. Go practice for now and leave the next move to me. I’ll come up with something soon."

You nodded, no further words needed. Her confidence was contagious, and while you still felt a trace of nervousness, you now had a clear direction.

You made your way to the music room, where the calm of the afternoon enveloped you. You practiced for an hour, focused on perfecting the piece you would perform for the auditions. Your fingers moved confidently across the keys, tracing each note with precision as you lost yourself in the music. For a while, everything else faded away: the rumors, the worries, even the uncertainty that had accompanied you all day. It was just you and the music, a world where you had full control.

You nodded, no more words needed. Her confidence was contagious, and while you still felt a slight nervousness, you now had a clear direction.

You headed to the music room, where the calm of the afternoon wrapped around you. You practiced for an hour, focused on perfecting the piece you would present on audition day. Your fingers moved confidently over the keys, tracing each note with precision as you lost yourself in the music. For a while, everything else disappeared: the rumors, the worries, even the uncertainty that had followed you all day. It was just you and the music, a world where you had full control.

When you felt you had mastered the most challenging sections, you let the final chord resonate in the empty room before carefully closing the piano lid. You gathered your things efficiently and hurried to the girls' bathroom.

You changed quickly, carefully folding your school uniform before putting on the black sports outfit of the team. The lightweight, comfortable fabric prepared you. As you tied the laces of your sneakers, you took a moment to look at yourself in the mirror.

When you arrived at the gym, the familiar atmosphere enveloped you: the echo of bouncing balls, the voices of the players, and the squeak of sneakers against the floor. You greeted the coach with a brief nod as he focused on correcting the posture of one of the blockers, then headed to the table where you usually organized the materials.

You checked the stopwatch to ensure it was working correctly, then inspected the water bottles, carefully lining them up on the table so all the players could grab one during breaks. As you worked, you heard a conversation on the other side of the court, interrupted by the unmistakable tone of Tsukishima's voice.

"Finally here? Wasting time, were you?"

Your hands kept moving, arranging the last bottles on the table, even as you felt Tsukishima's shadow looming behind you. Your brow furrowed instinctively at his remark, but you took a deep breath before turning slowly to face him. His tall figure and relaxed stance, with his arms crossed, forced you to look up to meet his gaze behind those glasses.

"I wasn’t wasting time," you replied calmly, mimicking his indifferent tone while holding his gaze without blinking. "I was practicing—something productive, you see?"

He raised an eyebrow and clicked his tongue, leaning slightly toward you as if trying to intimidate you. "Practicing? Funny, because when I went to the music room, you weren’t there. Aren’t you supposed to be so dedicated?"

A slow, almost mocking smile spread across your lips as you leaned casually against the table. "You went looking for me?" you asked, drawing out the words as if the idea amused you. "How flattering, Tsukishima. I didn’t know you were so concerned about my whereabouts."

The blond straightened immediately, his expression barely shifting, but the faint blush at the base of his ears confirmed you’d hit the mark. “Don’t make me laugh,” he replied in his usual biting tone, adjusting his glasses. “I just happened to pass by. I’m not as idle as you.”

“Sure, just a coincidence,” you countered with feigned innocence, turning back to the table to rearrange an already perfectly aligned bottle. “It must be hard for you to admit you notice my absence. Don’t worry, I don’t blame you. Sometimes, I’m hard to ignore.”

You could feel his gaze fixed on the back of your neck as you maintained a neutral expression, the air between you charged with that sharp sarcasm that seemed to be his favorite way of communicating.

“You know, for someone so short, you’ve got a massive ego,” he finally muttered before turning on his heel and walking toward the court, the sound of his footsteps echoing through the gym.

You suppressed a triumphant smile as you watched him walk away, Tsukishima’s words still lingering in your mind. There was something almost twistedly amusing about these interactions, like an unspoken game where both of you tested your wits. Maybe, you thought, Tsukishima was one of those guys who responded best when treated with the same indifference and sarcasm he so often dished out.

The idea left you pondering for a moment. Perhaps, in his own peculiar way, his sharp comments were his version of trying to get your attention. Of course, it wasn’t something you could confirm with certainty, but you weren’t about to ignore the possibility either. Still, you had no intention of sitting around like a fool waiting for clearer signs. If he wanted to keep up this push-and-pull dynamic, you were more than willing to play along. But only to a certain point.

"If he doesn’t make a move, then I’ll stop," you thought, adjusting one of the bottles he had knocked out of place on his way out. You weren’t willing to seem needy or lose your dignity over someone like Tsukishima, no matter how much, deep down, you liked him more than you wanted to admit.

The sound of the coach’s whistle snapped you out of your thoughts, and you quickly grabbed the stopwatch, heading toward the court. The players were already starting their drills, and you had work to do. However, as you went over the training stats and made sure everything was in order, you felt a gaze on you.

You instinctively looked up, and there he was—Tsukishima—pretending his focus was entirely on the drills. But the slight turn of his head and the barely perceptible shift of his eyes in your direction gave him away.

You stuck your tongue out at him in a quick, playful gesture, making sure he saw it clearly. Tsukishima didn’t take long to react. His eyes narrowed briefly, and an exasperated sigh escaped his lips.

He turned back to face the court, now wearing an expression of barely concealed annoyance. The gesture was so typical of him that it almost made you laugh out loud.

As the day wound down and you prepared to head home, you made sure to help with the last few tasks. You gathered the scattered balls across the court and placed them meticulously in their designated spots.

“Y/N.”

The soft, delicate voice of Kiyoko caught you off guard. You turned to find the manager, her dark hair perfectly styled and her blue eyes avoiding yours with a shyness that was as characteristic as it was endearing.

“Yes?” You set the ball in your hands down and gave her your full attention, trying to interpret the slight unease in her expression.

“I… wanted to ask for your help with something.” Her voice trailed off at the end of the sentence, and she avoided looking directly at you, fidgeting with the sleeves of her jacket. Your mind immediately drifted to not-so-distant memories of her last request, which had landed you in a slightly embarrassing situation. Internally, you prayed this wasn’t something similar, but your curiosity won out over your nervousness.

“Of course, tell me,” you replied with a calm smile, though your eyes carefully studied her every movement, waiting for her words to clear up your doubts.

Kiyoko took a deep breath, as if gathering the courage to speak was a challenge in itself. Finally, her blue eyes met yours.

“I need you to come with me… to buy something for the team,” she admitted softly, her tone almost apologetic for the interruption.

“Sure, no problem,” you answered without hesitation, offering her a reassuring smile. “Just give me a minute to grab my things.”

You quickly headed to where you had left your bag, making sure not to keep her waiting too long. As you slipped on your jacket and double-checked that you hadn’t forgotten anything important, you noticed Kiyoko standing nearby.

When you returned to her side, you gestured for the two of you to leave the gym. “What exactly do we need to get?” you asked, trying to break the silence that had settled between you.

Kiyoko glanced up, her delicate features lit with a mix of excitement and nervousness. “I was thinking of ordering a banner for the team,” she said, a slight smile appearing on her face. “It’ll be black, with white letters, and I want it to say: ‘Fly.’ What do you think?”

You paused for a moment, reflecting on the idea. It was simple, direct, and motivating, but also carried a lot of meaning for the team. "I like it," you replied firmly, giving your approval. "It’s the perfect message for them—short but powerful. It matches the energy they bring to the game.”

Kiyoko nodded, clearly relieved by your support. “I thought something too long wouldn’t catch their attention, but I wanted it to have an impact. I want them to see it before every game and remember they have what it takes to reach higher.”

You smiled, impressed by the level of thought she had put into something seemingly so simple. “Do you already know where you’ll have it made? If not, I can help you find a place.”

“Yes, I think there’s a place downtown that does this kind of work,” Kiyoko explained as the two of you walked toward the subway station.

You took out your phone and quickly typed a message to your mom, letting her know you’d be home late. You didn’t want her to worry unnecessarily, and you knew she’d understand that you were helping with something for the team.

The subway ride was quiet, though the silence between you two was palpable. It wasn’t uncomfortable, but it wasn’t particularly lively either. Kiyoko seemed focused, mentally going over the details of the banner as she looked at her phone. Meanwhile, you watched the train’s movements and the flickering lights through the windows, letting the gentle swaying of the car fill the space between you.

When you arrived downtown, Kiyoko took the lead, confidently guiding you to a small shop specializing in custom prints and designs. The place was filled with samples of work displayed on the walls, from sports jerseys to banners of all kinds.

“I want it to look professional but simple,” Kiyoko explained to the clerk, who was jotting down notes as she spoke. “A black background with white letters and the message ‘Fly’ in an elegant yet eye-catching style.”

You nodded subtly from where you stood, pleased to see her handling everything with such precision. Although you weren’t directly involved in the decisions, you felt your presence gave her the confidence to express herself clearly.

“Would you like to add the team’s name or logo?” the clerk asked, and you noticed Kiyoko hesitate for a moment before turning to you.

“What do you think?” she asked, seeking your opinion.

“I think just the message will be enough,” you replied after a moment of thought.

Kiyoko nodded, grateful for your input. “Alright, just the message then.”

The clerk promised to have the design ready in a few days, and Kiyoko thanked him for his time before you both left the shop. The sun was beginning to set, painting the sky in warm hues that contrasted with the bustling city around you.

“Thanks for coming with me,” Kiyoko said softly, giving you a faint smile as you walked back toward the subway.

“It was my pleasure,” you replied sincerely. “I think the team will be thrilled when they see the banner. It’s such a thoughtful gesture from you.”

The manager nodded but didn’t respond right away. She seemed deep in thought, perhaps imagining how the boys would react to her effort. Her slight pause made you stop walking as well, until she finally spoke, her smile just barely visible.

“What do you think about getting some ice cream?” she suggested, her voice calm but carrying a surprising warmth that caught you off guard.

“Really? Ice cream? Kiyoko-senpai, you’re the best!” you exclaimed, your excitement spilling over as you gave a few small jumps of joy and eagerly followed her.

“Yes, really,” she confirmed with a soft laugh at your reaction, though she quickly added, “My treat.”

“You don’t have to do that,” you protested, though it was clear you had no intention of refusing the offer.

The walk to the ice cream shop felt lighter, the atmosphere filled with a mix of city sounds and the occasional quiet chatter between the two of you about the team’s practices or future plans. When you arrived at the small but cozy shop tucked into a quiet corner, the sweet and refreshing scent of ice cream greeted you.

“Pick whatever you like,” Kiyoko said, giving your shoulder a gentle pat as she stepped up to check out the flavors on display.

You moved closer, eyeing the wide variety of options. “Are you sure I can pick anything? This could be a dangerous decision,” you joked, shooting her a playful look.

“I trust you won’t blow my budget,” she replied, with a touch of sarcasm that wasn’t common for her but made you laugh.

Finally, you settled on a two-flavor ice cream, something classic yet delicious. Kiyoko chose something simpler, reflecting her understated style. The two of you took a seat at a table by the window, where you could watch people passing by.

“Thanks for this,” you said after a moment, savoring a spoonful of your ice cream. “I really needed it.”

Kiyoko looked at you, her expression calm but with a glimmer of satisfaction in her eyes. “I think we both needed this.”

You nodded, letting the quiet comfort of the moment settle between you. And as you shared the ice cream, you felt your bond with Kiyoko grow stronger—not just as teammates, but as true friends.

You had never felt as much pressure as you did in those days. Tomorrow was the highly anticipated interschool games, and in just four days, you had the audition you had been preparing for so diligently. The constant demands of dividing your time between team practices, piano sessions, and the endless pile of schoolwork had you on the brink of exhaustion. You could barely find moments to relax or even take a calm breath.

“Go home and get some rest early,” Coach Ukai ordered in his firm tone, his voice echoing against the gym walls.

“Yes!” the boys responded in unison, their energetic voices momentarily drowning out your fatigue.

You absentmindedly played with the Pochacco keychain hanging from your bag, a nearly automatic gesture in an attempt to dispel the weariness and tedium that had built up.

“Oh, wait, one more thing,” announced Takeda-sensei, his voice bringing silence and attention back to the center of the court.

Everyone stopped in their tracks, turning to hear what he had to say. Takeda looked toward Kiyoko, who stood beside him with her head slightly tilted as if trying to hide her nervousness.

“Shimizu-san,” the teacher called gently, prompting the black-haired girl to slowly lift her gaze.

The manager took a deep breath, as though she were gathering all the courage she could muster. “I know I’m not very good at cheering…” she began, her voice barely a whisper at first. Then, she seemed to make a sudden decision. She walked with determined steps toward the bleachers, climbing the stairs with Takeda close behind to support her.

From where you stood, you could see the players exchanging surprised looks.

After a few moments of expectant tension, Takeda-sensei and Kiyoko began to unfurl the black banner. The white letters in the center formed a single word: "Fly." It was both an instruction and a form of encouragement that seemed to fill the space with symbolic weight. The design was simple, but its visual impact immediately captured everyone’s attention.

Silence lingered as the players’ eyes scanned the message, and it was Kiyoko who broke it. Lowering her head slightly, with her cheeks faintly tinted red, she murmured, “Just… do your best.” Her voice, though barely audible, carried a sincerity that resonated deeply.

For a few seconds, the gym remained in a reverent hush until excited shouts and exclamations broke the spell.

“Kiyoko, no one’s ever said something like this to us before!” Daichi exclaimed, raising an arm to his face in a dramatic gesture as he tried to hide the tears that had started to well up. Around him, the others echoed his sentiment with endless words of gratitude.

The newer members of the team watched the scene unfold, not fully understanding the magnitude of what was happening. They had heard stories about Tanaka and Nishinoya’s devotion to Kiyoko, but seeing them completely silent, staring at the banner with almost reverential admiration, was something else entirely.

“Wow, they’re speechless,” Tsukishima commented from the side, his tone laden with his usual sarcasm. His gaze lingered for a moment on Tanaka and Nishinoya, who appeared frozen in place, staring at the banner’s message. “And that’s saying something—they never shut up,” he added, prompting a laugh from Yamaguchi.

Despite the remark, the intensity of the atmosphere remained. The players continued exchanging words of encouragement, feeding off the emotion of the moment. It was as if Kiyoko’s gesture had ignited a spark within the team, a renewed energy that seemed to transform the air in the gym.

“Let’s go, let’s go!” Hinata urged, waiting eagerly by his bike at the front of your house. The redhead had offered to give you a ride to school that morning.

A light morning breeze brushed your face as you put your keys in your bag, trying to stifle a yawn. “Honestly, I should ban you from coming to my house this early,” you grumbled, adjusting your bag strap and walking toward him with reluctant resignation.

Hinata grinned enthusiastically, completely ignoring your complaint. “Hurry up and hop on!” he insisted, patting the back seat of the bike to indicate where you should sit.

You eyed him skeptically, crossing your arms. “Are you sure you can handle both our weights?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course, I can! I’m stronger than I look,” he replied with a wide grin, puffing out his chest as if to prove it was no problem at all.

You sighed, still hesitant, but finally gave in. “If we fall, I swear I’ll never forgive you,” you muttered, carefully climbing onto the back seat while he held the handlebars firmly.

“Trust me, nothing will happen!” he assured you, though the initial wobble when he started pedaling didn’t exactly inspire confidence. Despite that, he quickly managed to stabilize, and the bike glided smoothly along the quiet morning streets.

The morning breeze grew stronger as you moved, ruffling your hair and carrying the scent of freshly cut grass and the promise of a sunny day. Despite your initial doubts, you began to relax, enjoying the steady rhythm of the pedals and Hinata’s boundless energy.

“This isn’t so bad,” you admitted after a while, watching the scenery blur past you.

“See? I knew you’d like it,” Hinata replied, turning his head slightly to flash you a grin full of his usual enthusiasm.

“Awesome, we’re the first ones here!” he exclaimed jubilantly as he reached the front of the school and noticed the gym area was still empty.

You hopped off the bike, smoothing out your clothes and watching with a small smile as Hinata rushed to park his bike. Without wasting any time, you followed him toward the clubroom.

The peaceful morning was abruptly interrupted when Kageyama sprinted past the two of you, his usual focused expression and the rhythmic sound of his footsteps echoing around.

“Ah, Kageyama, you idiot!” Hinata exclaimed, startled as he was overtaken so suddenly. The redhead nearly lost his balance before reacting, picking up his pace to chase after him.

“Idiots,” you muttered to yourself, your tone a mix of frustration and amusement. It wasn’t the first time you’d witnessed one of their spontaneous clashes, and you doubted it would be the last. Despite their constant disagreements, deep down, you knew they complemented each other more than they cared to admit.

You decided to follow them at a more relaxed pace, listening to their voices echo down the hallway, mixed with the sound of their hurried footsteps. As you walked, you wondered if they would ever stop competing over everything... but deep down, you knew it was one of the dynamics that made the team special.

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