#and then perform the same mistake your father did By opening your mouth on someone you didn't know

[gothamphantomgoat]

[url-is-under-construction]

𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐭 ~ 𝐇.𝐋 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Based off the prompt:   “𝐈 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐛𝐮𝐭 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭. 𝐖𝐞 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐝𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬.”

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 3.7K

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Swearing

𝐒𝐲𝐩𝐧𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐬: Family always came first to you. That’s why you moved to Tokyo with your baby brother despite being miserable every single day, until you met him.

If NYC was the city that never slept then Tokyo was it’s younger sibling who was constantly trying to outdo the elder child. You ignored your younger brother who sat beside you in the taxi, leaning your head against the window and admiring the bright neon lights that stood out against the black of the sky.

No stars were visible, and the noise of the city was audible from inside the taxi, grinding against your ears. You hated it.

“Y/n.” You yanked my head from the cool glass of the window, leaving it foggy in your absence as Sean gently called your name. “We’re here.”

It was then you noticed the taxi had come to a stop, in front of a small looking building.

“This is it?” You asked, only getting a nod and sigh in response as the two of you exited the small vehicle, him sighing loudly as he picked up the bags.

You approached the door and knocked, waiting impatiently as the city air bit and nipped at your rosy red cheeks and nose.

It opened, revealing the man you recognized to be your father. You took a step back, turning the volume of the music in your ears up and letting Sean do the talking. You observed as their mouths moved, and the door closed on the two of you, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion before relaxing as it opened again.

This time he was fully clothed and a woman quickly scurried out from behind him, not giving any of you a second glance.

You pulled the earbud out, looking between your brother and father.

“Who was that?” You asked, following the two of them into the cramped building.

“A friend.” Your father responded sharply, before going over the ground rules and showing you to your rather small rooms.

The sleep was terrible that night. Unable to get comfortable on the thin mattress, and longing to be back at home in America. After all, you weren’t the child who had screwed up.

                                                  【~~~】

It took about three days for the reality of the situation you were in to settle in.

You were living in Tokyo. And you wouldn’t be returning home any time soon.

It was quite a rude shock when it finally hit you, and that’s when the tears every night started to pay visits.

You sure as hell weren’t the one who had fucked up, destroying not one but two cars, illegally racing and crashing through the frame of a house waiting to be built. No, that was Sean. But as usual you also had to pay for his mistakes and so off to Tokyo you went with him, leaving behind your friends, your family and your car.

It wasn’t like your mother was expecting you to live here forever with Sean. After all you were almost nineteen and very much so capable of making your own decisions.

She had wanted you to go with him for the first month though, not wanting him to be completely alone with no one but your father there for him, and by painting it out to be some exotic holiday she had convinced you to tag along.

It was a mistake.

Sean had started coming home later and later every night, adjusting well to life in the city. You on the other hand, had absolutely no friends, and despised your days with every fiber of your being. You had begun marking days off your calendar, counting down eagerly for the month to be over and for you to return home.

“I hate it here.” You shoveled food into your mouth, standing with your back against the counter of the kitchen as Sean absentmindedly filled a glass of water. “Why did I choose to come with you?”

“How would I know?.” He mumbled under his breath, pulling his phone out of his pocket as it buzzed.

“You know if you hadn’t been so-”

“Yeah, yeah, yeah,” He cut you off, rolling his eyes. “I get enough if that from Mom and Dad. Don’t need it from you too.”

His accent was far stronger than yours, and you mocked him, feeling defeated when he just rolled his eyes and turned back to his phone.

He read whatever was on the screen with a small smile on his face and nosily you leaned over, wanting to get a look.

“Fuck off.” He shoved your shoulder, still smiling.

“What’s got you looking all happy?” You asked, raising an eyebrow.

He looked at you, a mischievous smile on his lips as you waited.

“How do you feel about going out tonight?”

                                                 【~~~】

Bodies crammed together in the parking garage, all surrounding the hundreds of cars parked in the lot. The immaculate paint jobs shined in the harsh neon lights, and most of them had their hoods up and their incredible engines on display, leaving your jaw on the ground every time.

You stuck close to Sean and Twinkie, feeling safer with your younger brother and his best friend. You felt intimidated by the gorgeous women who surrounded you, not that you were there to impress anyone. You were there for the cars.

The shitty 1990 Accord you had back in the states was nothing compared to the beasts that were parked in here.

You could feel vibrations in the ground, from the music and cars and it brought a small smile to your face as you walked through the swarm of people.

Sean’s eyes were scanning the crowd intently, clearly searching for someone.

He finally located who he was after and pulled you and Twinkie in the direction, his smile growing.

“There are some people I want you to meet.”

You were introduced to some faces you knew you wouldn’t remember, a gorgeous girl named Neela being one of the few you did.

You didn’t miss the way they looked at each other, or the way her boyfriend would possessively interrupt when you were talking to her, much to her dismay.

“And finally,” Sean said as you approached a man leaning back against his car, a small smirk on his face. “The one and only, Han.”

You flicked your eyes up to meet his, ignoring the way your breath slightly hitched in your throat.

He stuck his hand out to grasp yours, and you gripped it back with the same smirk he was wearing.

“Y/n.” You introduced yourself, not missing the way his eyes slowly traveled up and down your body. “I’m sorry about what my brother did to your car.”

His eyes returned to you, a smile on his face.

“It’s fine. Plenty of others sitting in that garage.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah.” He nodded, his smile turning into a shy grin.

“Better keep Sean away from them then.” You teased, turning to your brother only to realize he had left.

You noticed him standing by Neela again, walking around her car while her boyfriend, Takashi, watched intently from afar.

“He’s in love. Has been since he saw her.” Han rolled his eyes, popping a chip into his mouth.

“Hard to see why he wouldn’t be.” You said. “She’s beautiful. Kind. Into cars.”

“And what about you?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you kind? Into cars?” He asked, following your eyes to Sean and Neela.

“You forgot beautiful.” You said with a small laugh as you moved to stand next to him, leaning against the Mazda RX-7 behind you. You were praying to god it was his car, otherwise the lucky owner would probably get very, very pissed.

“Nah.” He turned his head and looked down at you. “Don’t need to ask you that to figure it out.”

A blush crept into your cheeks and you couldn’t stop the smile from appearing on your face.

“Well, usually when someone is kind they don’t run around telling others about it.” Your eyes met his again. “And I love cars.”

He grinned at you, and you turned your head to look back at Sean.

A part of you wanted to play hard to get, but the other part knew that even after only five seconds of talking to this man you were fucking done for and he knew that as well.

“And what about you?” You copied his earlier words, elaborating when you saw his confused face. “Are you kind? Into cars? Beautiful?”

“Beautiful?” He scoffed. “Sweetheart I’m a damn model.”

You let out a laugh, feeling yourself relax.

“I was kind enough to not beat your brother to death after he totaled my car.” Han joked. “And as for cars-” He gestured to the garage, full of stunning, high performance cars capable of stealing your heart in a matter of seconds. “-I probably wouldn’t be here if I didn’t like them.”

“Yeah I suppose that was obvious.” You let out a content sigh. This was the first time you had forgotten about your little countdown, and also the longest conversation you had had with someone who you weren’t related to.

The two of you fell into a comfortable silence, admiring the cars that surrounded you for a few minutes before he turned back to you again.

“What are you doing here Y/n?”

Your head turned to his, your eyebrows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

“Oh come on, you think Sean doesn’t gush about his amazing older sister every chance he gets?” Han rolled his eyes at you like you were stupid.

“No. I find that very hard to believe.” You let out a small laugh. “And you still haven’t answered my question.”

“Sean told me that you were eighteen, turning nineteen in a few months time. No one is forcing you to be here, in Japan.” Han explained, his dark eyes staring into yours. “And yet here you are. Living in Tokyo, miserable, because your delinquent brother couldn’t stay out of trouble in the states. Why?”

Your mouth opened, then closed, then fell open again. You turned your head away from the piercing dark eyes and glanced at your brother.

“Because that guy who destroyed your car is my baby brother. He’s the closest family I’ve got.” You watched Sean as he spoke to Neela, hearts in his eyes. “Family stick together Han. I couldn’t let him just up and leave to a brand new country, with no one but our father there for him.”

Han watched the way you spoke, feeling a warmth across his chest.

“It’s my job to protect him and be there for him, and I don’t care if I’m miserable the whole time I’m doing it. I’m going to be there.”

His jaw almost dropped as your words hit him like bricks.

“You know,” He started. “You remind me of someone I used to go way back with.”

You scoffed light-heartedly.

“How old are you?”

He just grinned. “Too old for you.”

“Well luckily for you, my age is too young for me.” You said. Despite your tone being confident your body was completely betraying you, bracing itself for rejection.

Instead he just laughed and ran a hand through his hair.

Both of your heads snapped to the right as someone called his name, and you felt your heart fall when you realized that he was probably going to leave.

He sent a quick wave to the person who called out and pushed himself off the Mazda, gazing down at you.

“You know,” He started, a shy smile creeping onto his face. “If you ever get bored during the day you should come by the garage. I think I could make it worth your time.”

You let out a small laugh.

“We’ll see.”

                                                【~~~】

“You made friends pretty fast.” Sean said teasingly as you entered the kitchen, your hair sticking up in all kinds of directions.

“Yeah and so did you apparently.” You sent a sarcastic smile back in his direction. “Pity she’s taken.”

The smile on his face dropped instantly and he went back to his breakfast, ignoring you.

After a few minutes of silence between the two of you he spoke up again.

“So are you gonna?”

You looked up from your phone and coffee, furrowing your brows.

“Am I gonna what?”

“Swing by Han’s garage?” He had a knowing smirk on his face. “He told me all about your little conversation.”

You just shrugged casually, not wanting to let him know how you really felt inside.

“Maybe, if I have the time.”

“All you have here is time.” He scoffed. “All you’ve done for the past few days is buy food, eat it, then sleep. You may as well.”

You let out a sigh and finished what was left of your drink.

“Yeah, and for your information Sean, it’s been great.”

“You know you wanna Y/n.” He teased, a grin on his face.

“How about this,” You started. “Let me know next time you head over there. Maybe I’ll tag along.”

“Sounds good to me.” Sean said. “Especially given that I’ll be there tonight.”

Your cool demeanor dropped and your eyes widened.

“Tonight?”

“That’s what I said.” He grinned. “I’ll be sure to let him know he can look forward to seeing you there with me.”

“I’m gonna fucking kill you.” You whispered under your breath.

He just shrugged his shoulders.

“You’d be doing me a favor if it meant I’d never have to see your gross face again.”

“What are you? Five?” You asked.

“I’d say that’s about right.”

You just scoffed at him, heading back to your room.

Not that you’d ever admit it to Sean, but you were glad that he’d be heading over to the garage tonight.

You would definitely rather die than tell him that though.

                                               【~~~】

You shut the car door behind you and stepped out into the cool evening air.

Sean had come by to pick you up after he had finished school, and you had been anxiously waiting all day.

Now you were finally here, and still very, very anxious.

“This doesn’t look like a garage to me.” You furrowed your brows, looking out at the water.

“That’s because it’s in there.” Sean pointed to the large brick building. “We’re gonna stay out the front, this is where Han’s been teaching me how to drift.”

“Oh.” You managed to get out, following your baby brother to a group of people who were all sitting down by stacks of tires.

All four faces were familiar, but you only remembered the names of two of them.

“Y/n.” Han greeted you, nodding his head with a smile as he casually held the bottle in his hand.

“Hi.” You smiled back at him, your nerves starting to melt away.

Sean gestured to the empty seat beside Han, and you took it.

The others tossed you friendly smiles which you returned, and Han looked up at Sean.

“Go get your sister a drink.” He said.

Sean did as he was asked, reaching into the cooler that had been brought along and handing you a bottle of something.

“Are you gonna have one?” You asked your brother as you opened it and took a small sip.

“Can’t drink and drive now, can I?” He smirked, digging his keys out of his pocket and heading back towards the Evo.

“Well that’s a first.” You scoffed, and you heard Han let out a small laugh beside you.

“I’m guessing the cowboy doesn’t wanna fuck up another one of Han’s cars.” Twinkie said, watching Sean as his climbed into the car and started it.

You looked over at Han.

“That’s your car?”

“Yep.” He nodded proudly, watching Sean as he started his usual route around the dock.

“How many more have you got hiding in that garage of yours?” You asked with a small laugh.

“You’ll have to come see for yourself.” He shrugged.

“Maybe.” You shrugged as well, missing the way Twinkie and the others looked back and forth at each other.

“You know,” Han started. “If you haven’t got any other plans tonight, I could take you out for a drive, grab some food. Maybe come back to the garage when everyone’s gone.” He said the last part quietly enough for only you to hear.

You looked over to Sean in the car, able to make out his face of concentration despite how far away you were from him. He wouldn’t miss you for one night.

“When do we leave?” You asked with a smile.

He grinned with a surprised laugh, and you could tell he had been expecting you to say no.

“Now, if that works for you.”

You looked back at Sean, wincing at the sound of the tires screaming against the road.

“Sounds good.”

                                              【~~~】

The two of you had ended up getting cheap food from a side-of-the-road vendor, eating in silence in the car before making small talk about everything, from your life back in America to what kind of animals you thought you could take on in a fight.

You were laughing when you stumbled out of the RX-7 and into the cool night air, following Han into the garage which wasn’t that much warmer.

You didn’t know what you had expected when you walked into the garage, but it definitely wasn’t what you saw.

Han gestured for you to follow him up some stairs to an open second story, furnished with a small kitchen, table and chair, and living area.

“Wow.” You mumbled under your breath, realizing he must have some serious money to be able to afford all of this. Not to mention the cars in there, some of which cost more than your house, car and life savings combined.

“It’s my pride and joy.” He pointed towards the sofa, and you took a seat, sinking in to the plush material as he opened the fridge and called out to you. “You want a drink?”

“Yeah thanks.” You smiled, and he pulled out two of the same bottles you had been drinking from earlier.

He took a seat beside you, on the opposite edge of the relatively small sofa, and the two of you sat in silence for a moment, reflecting on your night, before you spoke up.

“Thank you.” You said quietly, and he looked at you in confusion. “For what you’re doing for Sean, I mean.”

“It’s not a problem.” He brushed it off. “He’s a good kid, the kinda person I want to be around.”

You let out a scoff.

“Well I wouldn’t go that far.”

He chuckled at you.

“Thank you.” He said, and this time it was your turn to be confused. “You might not realize it. but coming out here with Sean has made it so much easier for him. He probably won’t ever tell you, but he’s grateful as hell and crazy lucky to have you in his life.”

A small blush crept up onto your cheeks, and you almost didn’t notice as he crept closer towards you. Almost.

“Yeah well he’s also crazy lucky to have met you.” You said quietly, your eyes meeting his as the two of you drew closer and closer. “I am too.” You whispered.

“And why’s that?” He asked, his tone matching yours, and you swore the room got hotter by about twenty degrees.

“You’re kind,” You started, remembering back to last night when you met him. “Into cars.” You continued, and he nodded along, agreeing with you.

“You forgot beautiful.” He whispered, just inches from your face now, and you smiled cheekily.

“You’re a damn model sweetheart.”

He grinned, his eyes flicking down to your lips briefly and before you could realize what was happening his lips were on yours.

Your hands instinctively went to his hair, pulling him closer to you as you laid down flat on your back, feeling his hands roam up and down your body.

You felt butterflies erupt in your chest as your hands wandered from the back of his head, and so did your mind.

Sean’s face flashed in your mind and you inhaled sharply, pushing Han off of you and sitting up, breathing heavily.

“Shit.” You hissed, moving to the edge of the sofa and holding your head in your hands. “Shit, shit, shit.”

“What? What’s wrong?” Han asked, also breathing heavily. His tone sounded confused, and guilt racked through your body. “I’m sorry.” His voice changed to apologetic. “I thought you wanted to.”

“I do.” You whined. “I want to, but I can’t. We can’t do this.”

“Why not?” He asked, placing a hand on your thigh.

“Sean.” You turned to look him in the eyes, and his face dropped.

“Shit.” He said.

“Shit.” You agreed.

The two of you sat in silence, still trying to catch your breaths, and trying to think of a way to fix the now incredibly awkward situation.

“I think I should leave.” You said, pushing yourself up off the sofa.

“Y/n don’t go.” Han protested. “It’s the middle of the night and you’ve been drinking. Neither of us can drive and I’m not going to let you walk home or get into a taxi with some creep.”

You let out a sigh, not letting him see how the fact that he cared that much made you all warm and fuzzy inside, or how the fact that it made you all warm and fuzzy inside made you want to gag.

“What do I do then?” You asked.

“Take my bed.” He nodded towards a door that you were assuming led to his bedroom. “I’ll take the sofa.”

“No way.” You protested. “This is your home Han, you aren’t sleeping on that tiny ass sofa. I can, it’s no problem.”

His eyes looked like he wanted to argue, but he kept his mouth shut.

“Ok. I’ll go grab you some blankets.”

“Thanks.” You smiled, laying down on the sofa.

It was undeniably comfortable, and you let your eyes close before Han returned, vaguely feeling him place a thick blanket over the top of you before pressing a quick kiss to your forehead, leaving you with butterflies.

Your mind started to slip out of consciousness, and you let it, forgetting about how you were sleeping in Han’s garage, and planning on being out of there before he woke up the next morning.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

Just a fun little something that took me about a week to finish writing! Hope you like it and requests are most certainly open <3

If anyone would like to be on the tag list for part 2, please let me know!

[sehunniepotwrites]

if we were a movie | j.jh

for @nctsworld’s first writing challenge

SYNOPSIS. For someone who was always the understudy and never the lead, scoring this role was huge for you. All you had to do was pretend to be in love with your best friend. No big deal, right? Wrong. It was the biggest deal because, for the past four years, you had been hiding your feelings for Jung Jaehyun.

If this were a movie, he would be your perfect match and the story would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

GENRE. childhood friends to lovers!au, college!au, drama school!au, slow burn, angst, humor, mutual pining, fluff (loosely based on the Filipino rom-com Must Be Love and If We Were a Movie by Hannah Montana) PAIRING. theatre major!Jaehyun x  theatre major!reader WORD COUNT. 14+ k

WARNINGS. point of view switches from first (”I”) to second (”you”); self-doubt, insecurities, mutual pining, cursing, lots of references and direct quotes from musicals such as Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella, Disney’s Newsies, Disney’s Beauty and the Beast, Shrek the Musical, and Wicked (edited but i might’ve missed some mistakes; bare with me!)

There are moments where time flows as normal, where people carry on with their days as they usually do. Then, there are moments people experience in slow-motion, where the world just stops spinning and all the background noise just fades away. These are the moments people look forward to. They’re the breathtaking ones, the ones that capture your heart and soul. After those moments, people are never the same. 

The first time I experienced something in slow motion was when I made my stage debut at a small talent show. There was thunderous applause after my performance and while my heart thumped against my chest, the world seemed to come to a stop. That’s when I knew my heart belonged to the stage or rather, the stage belonged to me. 

Some of these slo-mo moments are the ones where people fall in love. 

My father said that’s how he knew my mother was the one for him: he experienced it all at a slowed rate, everything fading into black and she was the only thing he saw. She was his brightest star and he was the one who reached for the sky to bring her down to Earth. 

When I was younger, I always dreamed about my “falling in love” slow-mo moment. I pictured a grandiose event with large actions and sweet words.  For it to actually happen at theatre camp during the initial dress rehearsal for Disney’s Beauty and the Beast J.R.— well, that was far from what I hoped for. 

And yet, it was just as special as I thought it would be. 

I was in my obnoxious fork costume, waiting for my best friend to leave the boy’s dressing room. 

Jung Jaehyun had been my best friend since the beginning, otherwise known as my first year at theatre camp. Only ten years old at the time, we both were cast as two of the three blind mice in Shrek the Musical and had been inseparable ever since. Although we attended different middle schools, our friendship grew from our shared vocal and dance lessons as well as our summers at camp. You know how it is; those who end up in the ensemble together stay together. 

Going over the dance moves in my head, I didn’t hear my friend’s voice calling my name. He gripped my shoulder, the action surprising me to the point where I lost my balance. I yelped and shut my eyes, expecting to fall onto the hard ground but a hand grabbing onto my wrist prevented my doom. With an arm around my waist, I barely missed the ground.

Slowly opening my eyes, I glanced up to see Jung Jaehyun looking down at me with a worried gaze. He was just a sixteen-year-old boy dressed as a spoon and yet, the world around us came to a halt. Gone were the other frantic theatre kids and the backstage messes. The couple playing Belle and the Beast was no longer sitting across from us, running through their lines. No hustle and bustle of the crew and the props masters.

It was just me dressed as a fork, falling down while my spoon for a best friend caught me in his arms. 

“We make quite a pair, don’t we, Forky?” he chuckled lowly, hitting the top of his costume to mine. It was a ridiculous sight— a pair of oversized cutlery in a crowded dressing room.

A burning hot sensation crept its way up to my face as he gently pulled me up. “I guess we do.”

Since then, my life has never been the same. I was in love with my best friend, Jung Jaehyun. I fell for him when the world stopped spinning beneath my feet while his world, unfortunately, kept on turning.

I remember each and every slowed-down moment in life —the good, the bad, and the absolute worst. I never thought a bad slo-mo moment existed, I simply didn’t think it was possible. 

I was young and naive then and I was so incredibly wrong.

The moment that hurt me most took place in my senior year of high school. The final callbacks for our community’s production of Disney’s Newsies were in order. The role of Jack Kelly, the headstrong and flirty newsboy, was easily given to the ever-so-charming Jung Jaehyun. He was not only my best friend at the time but he was the it-boy of our small theatre. People were either in love with him or wanted to be him— his talent matched his insane looks. His kind personality made him all the more lovable.

Jaehyun had his two fatal flaws, though. Everyone knew them but still saw him in such a bright light.

One: the boy was extremely clumsy. Jaehyun was often called “magic hands,” constantly ruining his props. It was a running gag in the theatre but the props committee never minded; one smile was all it took for them to forgive him and his cursed hands. 

That was his first flaw. And his second? Jaehyun fell in love way too easily and way too fast. 

How exactly did I find this out? Well, I was there to witness the scene that lifted his heart to the highest of levels while mine dropped straight to the ground.

I was in the running for the stubbornly intelligent female lead named Katherine Plumber. My opponent was the confident and radiant Son Wendy. She always played the lead in her high school productions but this was a community musical and I was determined to claim that part as my own. 

I went first, entering the audition room with a smile with the script gripped tightly in my palm. Performing alongside my best friend was easy. The romantic scene was a piece of cake, not because the lines were a breeze. That wasn’t it at all. It wasn’t because I memorized the Newsies script as a child either. It was because, at that moment, Jung Jaehyun was in love with me as much as I was in love with him. It was a moment I wanted to cherish forever: the way he looked at me was something I had never experienced before. It was so full of emotion and passion, like he had me within his grasp and never wanted to let me go.

“You got this. I believe in you,” he whispered in my ear, squeezing my hand in support. His breath tickled my skin and sent shivers down my spine. The nerves were back, not because of the audition, but because of him. 

“You’re just saying that because it’s the scene we’re about to act out, Jae,” I hissed. The sheet music for the duet, Something to Believe In, wrinkled in my free palm. 

His warm, comforting hand pressed harder against my own. “No, it’s not that. If you need someone to believe in you, I’m right here. I’ve got you, Forky. Always.”

The director cleared his throat from his seat, his scrutinizing eyes watching us closely as we got into position, just like we rehearsed a thousand times. “Whenever you’re ready.”

I watched as Jaehyun took a deep breath to get into character. He closed his eyes, rolled his broad shoulders back, and then his lids snapped open. His brown-eyed gaze aimed straight at me, with a vulnerable expression taking over his features. He was no longer Jung Jaehyun— he was Jack Kelly, a scared newsboy who was in love with a newspaper company heiress. 

The line came pouring out of his mouth with the utmost sincerity, the confusion and affection seeping through his words, “Just standing here tonight, looking at you, I’m scared tomorrow is gonna come and change everything.”

 Jaehyun took a step forward towards me, an unsure smile curling on his lips. “If there was a way I could just grab hold of something to make time stop just so I could keep looking at you.”

His body stops right in front of mine, keeping a clear distance but enough to feel the passion radiating off of his words and actions. For once in my young life, my best friend looked at me with a different kind of love in his eyes and I returned it, my genuine feelings seeping through my words. 

Biting my lip, I replied coyly, “You snuck up on me, Jack Kelly, I never even saw it coming.”

“For sure?” he stage-whispered. His upstage hand unexpectedly reached up to caress my cheek. The action was unrehearsed, almost catching me off guard. It was a different take on the scene. The characters were supposed to be shy, their thoughts wavering on their own feelings for each other and the impending strike that was to come the day after; yet, Jaehyun played Jack as someone certain of his feelings.

“For sure,” I answered back at the same volume, my hand cupping his own to follow along with his direction. It felt as if he was searching my soul for my thoughts and I could not let him in. The opening bars of the romantic duet echoed throughout the room and after taking a breath, I began to sing. Jaehyun joined in on the second verse and instantly, our voices blended together in a beautiful harmony, one that beat our Newsies karaoke sessions in his car. 

The scene ended as quickly as it began. The director hummed before jotting notes down and whispering to his casting assistants for a few seconds. I thought they were the longest seconds of my life. Jaehyun nodded his head to reassure me. “You did well, Forky.”

“Of course I did, it’s me we’re talking about here,” I nudged him back. “I can do no wrong, Jae!” 

“Thank you,” the director finally spoke, “you may go. Jaehyun, if you could escort her out and fetch Wendy for me?”

“Of course,” your friend nodded. The feeling of his large hand on my back slowly guided me out of the room. The spot he touched me burned but my cheeks were burning even more. Why was it that every little touch drove me to the brink of insanity?

“You’re so going to land this part,” I remember him saying as he squeezed my waist. My heart was beating erratically against my ribcage, the butterflies in my stomach threatening to fly their way up my throat.

“You think so?”

“Oh definitely,” Jaehyun stressed with a wink. 

He said it too soon. 

Because the minute he locked gazes with Son Wendy, I just knew he had found his leading lady. 

“S-Son Wendy?” he stuttered as he caught sight of the pretty girl in the waiting room. Her hair was styled similarly to a young maiden from the turn of the century, perfectly curled and out of her face. 

“Yes?” she smiled back.

It seemed like the words were caught in my best friend’s throat. Sneaking a glance at Jaehyun’s ears, they burned a bright red. “We’re, um, we’re ready for you.”

I watched as Jaehyun nervously offered his arm to her, his eyes never leaving her face. It was like he was her own personal spotlight, the way his eyes shone just for the girl in front of him. The boy was completely enamored and I was instantly in the shadows. The sweet smile that was reserved for me was directed towards another and it sparkled in a way it never did before.

The world around me moved incredibly slow as they passed me by. With everything frozen, all I saw was the gorgeous couple headed to the audition room with hushed exchanges. Jaehyun took his time heading to the private room to spend more time with the girl while Son Wendy steadily made her way into my friend’s fragile heart. My own heart clenched at the sight. It was breaking ever so slowly and I felt every little crack and tear. 

Even with the role of the understudy, it was as if I never even had a chance at winning his heart over. If Wendy wasn’t present for one rehearsal, Jaehyun didn’t even see me— his own best friend since our ensemble days. He was way too deep into his “showmance.” It was like I never even existed. It wasn’t long before he called Wendy his girlfriend and then, I was invisible. Cast aside. Ignored.

Needless to say, my heart broke in slow-motion as Jaehyun’s pounded rapidly for a girl that took two parts I desperately ached for: Katherine Plumber and the girl who held Jaehyun’s heart. 

But this was just the first time his heart was stolen by his opposite. The first of many.

The first two years of university passed me by like a summer breeze. Constantly busy with general education and introductory drama courses, I was constantly flitting around from building to building. My hands were usually occupied by my laptop, a blazing cup of caffeinated tea, and a worn out script while my mind was filled with jumbled up lines and the dramatic cries of an overwhelmed university student. I probably wouldn’t have made it this far if it wasn’t for Jaehyun and Xiao Dejun, another theatre major we had met during orientation, by my side.

Fast forward to my third year and the three of us were headed to the office of the theatre department. It was posting day for the spring musical— the day the cast list was revealed. This year’s musical spectacular was Rodgers and Hammerstein’s Cinderella. The play itself was a modern classic and it was also my dream come true.

This day, just like any posting day of the drama department, was nerve-racking. Everyone was anxious to find out what parts they were given and how the fairytale would play out. The part of the brave and kind Ella was always on my list of roles I wanted to fill. As much as I thought I did well on my final callback, I didn’t want to set my hopes too high.

“Are you nervous?” Jaehyun asked while draping an arm over my shoulder. He playfully put all his weight onto his right side to throw me off balance. 

“Nervous? Me? Why would I be nervous if I’m like 95% sure  I’m going to get the understudy again?” I chuckled sarcastically. Bitterly. It happened every year, so why get my hopes up now?

“Yeah but—”

“No buts, I’ve accepted the title of the Wonderstudy! I think you should too, Jae,” I slapped his shoulder before quickly slipping out of his hold before linking arms with Dejun. My best friend let out a yelp, almost tripping over his own two feet as we continued down the hallway. “I’m mediocre at best.”

The Wonderstudy: it was the nickname the other students in the department gave me because I was always the understudy. I was never the star of the show. It said that I was good but not good enough. 

Dejun leaned in and whispered, “You do know that you’re more than just that, right? You’re an actor. A phenomenal one. You weren’t accepted to this drama program by just being mediocre at best.”

I ignored my friend’s comment, eyes zoned in at the other end of the building. The crowd of usual theatre students crowded around the bulletin board, curious heads popping up and down trying to take a peek at the list. Some buzzed with excitement, happy they got a major part while others groaned in disappointment. You were most likely going to be with the later group. 

Once the cluster of students caught sight of Jaehyun, they parted like the red sea to let him through. It wasn’t really necessary, though, everyone knew the it-boy of the drama department was cast as the role of the misguided prince, Topher. 

The only question was: who was cast as his princess? Who was this year’s Ella?

I fought my way through the bunch with Dejun following behind me as our best friend was showered with congratulations. Jaehyun was all smiles, dimples prominent as he was lavished by the mass. Dejun made it to the list first. His finger dragged along the thin paper until he found his name. He cheered, pumping his fist up in joy. “I got the part I wanted! I’m Jean-Michel!”

Grinning at my friend, I sincerely congratulated him. He got the second lead: the feisty peasant looking for change. Turning again, his eyes grazed the list until Dejun found my name. His smile dropped ever so slightly and that was when I knew: I was beaten once again. 

“What part did I get?”

“Gabrielle,” he answered. Ah, the outwardly abrasive but quietly empathetic sister. The second lead, love interest of Jean-Michel. At least I was playing Dejun’s opposite. 

I took a step closer, wondering who took the part of the kind princess. Squinting at the small print, my eyes scanned the jumble of words until I saw it.

Ella……………………….Lee Naeun Ella u/s………………….Y/N

I scoffed. Forever the understudy. The Wonderstudy of the Theatre Department indeed.

The first rehearsal, otherwise known as the read-through, took a toll on me. It was usually a two to three hour long session, filled with loud chatter, crazy introductions, and a variety of crazy theatre games to break the ice. When the niceties ended, everyone took their seats in their plastic chairs that were arranged in a huge circle. Bae Joohyun, the head stage manager began reading the stage directions aloud as the table read began. The production’s director, Professor O’Hare, sat alongside Joohyun, jotting down notes and giving out commentary when needed. 

Amongst the reading of lines were tiny whispers, the sound of highlighters and pencils marking the paper, and the simultaneous turning of pages. The music director, Professor Lau sat at the piano bench and sight-read the music to give the cast a taste of the songs. Being the first rehearsal, the few who knew of the songs sang along to the accompaniment with joyous smiles, myself and Dejun included.

When Professor Lau played the first romantic duet between the leads, all heads turned to Jaehyun and Naeun who sat side-by-side. With it being their first time together, the performance was far from perfect but it was still something. His lower tone blended nicely with her softer voice and the shy glances they exchanged made their duet quite a sight. 

As Jaehyun and Naeun read the last lines for Act One, I noticed the way Jaehyun’s gaze kept flittering back to Naeun’s pretty face. The girl was focused on her lines, head down and hair blocking her gorgeous features, but he still kept looking at her and only her. I could imagine how the scene was playing out in his head, the world slowing down until Naeun was the only one moving.  He was infatuated. Twitterpated. 

And it hurt. It hurt more than reading the tragedy of Romeo and Juliet or listening to Elphaba’s desperate cry she lets out when she loses Fiyero. Call me dramatic but that was how I felt. 

It wasn’t like I tried getting over him. It wasn’t like I tried dating other people before; I had many, many times but my mind always drifted back to my best friend. He was the boy with the richest brown eyes, the perfectly dimpled smile, and the lowest laugh that set my heart aflame. Without even knowing it, Jaehyun had this incredible hold on my broken heart and he would not let me out of his grip. 

The green-eyed monster inside me resurfaced and I hated it. I absolutely hated it— why was I so pathetically in love with my best friend? 

 “Here we go again,” I said before dropping my head onto the table. 

“You say that every time and you keep running back to him at the end of the day,” Dejun whispered before looking back down at his script. His hand continued to jet across the page, his highlighter marking his many lines. 

Rolling up the script in my hand, I whacked his side. The action caused his hand to jerk the bright marker in another direction, striking a distorted line on his page. “Look what you did, twerp!” he hissed.

“Your fault, Eyebrows!”

“Stop calling me that, you fork!”

“Hey, only I can call her fork!” Jaehyun appeared out of nowhere, plopping alongside me. His voice snapped us out of our little argument, making us realize that the director called for a fifteen. 

“That’s only because you’re a dumb spoon,” I stuck my tongue out at him. Jaehyun pretended to reach for it and I blew a raspberry at him to retaliate. 

“You two idiots are my favorite cutlery set,” Dejun shook his head with a laugh. He was probably wondering why he stuck around us the majority of the time. 

“Let off it, Dejun,” Jaehyun said with the roll of his brown orbs. 

“Only if you let me be the knife to your set.”

“As if, dumbass,” I countered with a laugh. 

“Okay but you guys, can we stop fighting for a sec and talk about how I got her number?” Jaehyun beamed, throwing his arms over both our shoulders. He pulled us closer to his body and the faint smell of his musky cologne hit my nose. I held back a sigh as it filled my senses. Oh, to be drowned in his scent. 

“I got Naeun’s number!” he repeated excitedly, his strong arms shaking us. I held back my abrupt want to push him off. I wasn’t in a celebrating mood. My heart was too broken to care.

“Of course you did, when do you not get a girl’s number?” I answered a bit too bitterly. Raising a brow at him, I added, “Are we supposed to be surprised?”

“Listen,” Jaehyun countered, pulling back from me. “I don’t like that attitude, Forky.”

I scoffed, “Never stopped you from being my friend before, Jae.”

Jaehyun didn’t answer; he was too busy clutching his phone. His pretty brown eyes were fixed on Naeun’s contact page like it was the world’s greatest treasure. His eyes were sparkling in admiration before his gaze turned to the girl across the room. The look my best friend wore on his face was soft, the smile on his lips light. “I think she could be the one.”

Some thought him to be a player but I never thought of him that way. He might have had the looks of a heartbreaker but he had the purest heart of gold. The boy with the dimpled smile, porcelain skin, and cheeks as red as roses was a hopeless romantic to his very core. He was simply looking for his other half. 

“I think she could be the one.” His words repeated in my head, his voice pestering me. My heart lurched at them despite hearing them each semester. 

Jaehyun said this every year, with every girl. He said this when he crushed on Son Wendy, Kim Chungha, and so many more. His infatuations and crushes ended just as easily as they started. The boy was more than disappointed when the initial spark with each girl ended after a show’s run ended. When the musical closed, so did his feelings for each opposite. 

I never got stage fright; I was usually the one who said what was on her mind without a moment’s hesitation. So why was I hesitating to tell him my feelings?

Why was I hesitating to say that the one Jaehyun could be looking for was standing right next to him?

Just another rehearsal at the auditorium. 

Just another day watching my best friend fall for his leading lady.

Jaehyun and Naeun were standing in the middle of the stage, the ensemble surrounding them. He stood behind her, his hands gently placed on her waist while she leaned back into his touch. Naeun was wearing a fluffy tulle skirt, a mock-up of her ballgown. Park Sooyoung, the resident fashion major and lead costume designer, pushed her to wear it so she could get used to the estimated size of her dress. Even in a mere tank top and tulle skirt, Lee Naeun looked like a princess.

Professor Kwon, the choreographer of the production, stood at the end with a watchful eye. She counted them off, walking them through the routine while the rest of us practiced our steps off to the sidelines. 

Once the two main characters got the hang of their steps, Professor Kwon motioned for Professor Lau to play the songs from the beginning. As much as I tried to focus on my own dance moves, my mind kept wandering back to Jaehyun. 

Imagining him under the spotlight in a perfectly tailored suit, a crown sitting on his head, extending his arm out not to Naeun but to me. It was one of those movie moments where the characters and the audience watching fell in love. 

If life was like a movie, things would be so much easier. 

So lost in my thoughts, I missed a count and stepped on my partner’s foot. Muttering a quiet sorry to him, we continued on with the routine. As my partner swirled me around the dance floor, I drifted back into my daydream.

My utterly impossible daydream where I was the girl Jung Jaehyun was infatuated with. Although this play talked about impossible things happening everyday, I couldn’t imagine this ever happening. 

The terrible thing about being a theatre major in university was being a theatre major with midterms. Not only did I have to deal with hours of my back hunched over a desk and scattered study materials, I had to spend half of my days in the school’s theatre rehearsing. 

If I was not in class scribbling down last minute notes in notebooks,  I was learning dance routines or running lines on and off stage alongside Dejun. The days were long and the nights were even longer. Sometimes, the cast fell asleep in the seats of the auditorium while rehearsals were going on. We were all losing sleep. Some of us were losing our sanity but hey, welcome to the theatre. 

My schedule was filled to the brim and I wasn’t even the main character of the show. On top of that, I had to memorize the part of Ella. Not that it was really needed in the first place. 

No one ever stepped down from a lead role while I was their backup. It just didn’t happen.

Despite the hectic lives of belonging to the theatre department, the musical was two months into production and everything was running smoothly. With a month and a left until opening night, everyone was off-book and the initial stage blocking was done. The costuming and makeup committee were finishing up their mock-up designs and the student orchestra sounded divine. 

I saw more of Dejun than Jaehyun lately, my best friend being preoccupied with his new love interest before, during, and after rehearsals. I was cast aside once again.

Was it something out of the ordinary? No.

Did it still hurt? Yes.

Did I do anything about it? Absolutely not. I didn’t want to ruin his happiness. I rather suffer than see him as nothing but joyous, even if the happiness was temporary. The grin he wore when he was in love was too beautiful to rip away. Jaehyun shined like the light from the sun. I could never bring myself to do it. 

It was week eight of rehearsals when I stepped out of my last midterm, my head absolutely empty after reading small text for over an hour. Reaching into my backpack’s front pocket, I pulled out my cell phone and quickly turned it on. My screen was flooded with missed calls and texts from Professor O’Hare, Joohyun, Jaehyun, and Dejun, the notification numbers reaching over a hundred total. 

Something must have happened. Talk about a theatre emergency. Knowing our kind, they were probably being overdramatic. 

Just as I was about to unlock my phone, a video call went through. It was Dejun. Rolling my eyes, I slid my finger across the screen to answer it. “Jeez, I know you love me but give a girl a break, Eyebrows!”

“God, you’re so conceited sometimes. Why didn’t you answer my calls?!” He shouted, face close to the phone. I winced at the volume, immediately lowering the level as I slipped on my wireless earbuds. “There are important matters to discuss here!”

“What happened this time? Did someone say Macbeth in the theatre again? You know I don’t believe in that shit,” I said sarcastically.

“Oh my god. This is not the time for jokes! Everyone’s been trying to reach you!” Xiaojun yelled once more. “Where are you?!”

“I just got out of my musical history midterm in Maple Hall. Heading to the theatre right now. Why?” I never received an answer; Dejun hung up the call. Giving my phone a weird look, I shoved it in my pocket before continuing on my way. A light push on my back prevented me from going too far. 

“Twerp!” Xiao Dejun’s voice came from behind me, yanking me by the straps of my backpack. He was breathing heavily, trying to catch his breath. “Oh my god, we’ve been looking for you everywhere,” he said in between heavy breaths. 

Crossing my arms, I cocked a brow at him. “Why’s that?”

Dejun placed a hand on my shoulder for support. The words came flying out of his mouth, I almost couldn’t catch what he was saying. So much for being a theatre major. 

“Speak clearly, Dejun. Enunciate, articulate, exaggerate, remember? We are thespians and thespians do not mumble!”

The exhausted boy ignored my theatricals. “Naeun didn’t land a switch leap right and she rolled her ankle during advanced ballet. She’s going to be out for at least three to four weeks,” my friend replied breathily, his words a lot clearer than before.

The news shocked me to the core, my feet suddenly planted to the ground. It sounded like he said Naeun was out of commission. “What?” 

“She’s out for three to four weeks! I mean sucks for her, I wish her a speedy recovery but do you know what this means?”

The lack of response from me urged him to continue, “Sweetheart, she’s out. You’re in!”

Oh shit. I was in.

The part I had always dreamed of was mine. The lead role was finally mine.

I was now Ella and Jung Jaehyun was my Prince Topher.

Having an understudy step up to their role halfway through production was always something to get used to. It was a setback, a minor one, but still a setback. Just as Jaehyun finally settled into his role and built an unshakeable bond with Lee Naeun as his opposite, the accident happened. His potential girlfriend was now out of the show and off her feet in order to push for a speedy recovery.

The lovesick boy couldn’t even be there for her because his rehearsal times increased in order to get his best friend adjusted to your new role. There he was, leaning against the piano while waiting for you to arrive.

Professor Lau sat at the bench, flipping through his sheet music until he found the song he was looking for. 

The door slammed open and you stumbled in. “Am I late? I’m sorry, I just heard the news.”

“No, not at all. You’re right on time,” the professor smiled at you. “The situation’s weird, I know but congratulations on getting Ella.”

“Thanks, Professor. That means a lot,” you grinned back. 

Dropping your bag by the piano, you swiftly pulled out the script. You glanced at Jaehyun’s opened book for the page number before hastily flipping through the pages. Jaehyun nudged your side. “Hey, Forky.”

“Hey yourself,” you elbowed him back, biting your bottom lip.

“Congrats, bubs. You did it,” he pulled you into a side hug before ruffling your hair with pride. You had finally gotten a part you wanted. It was your time to shine. As your best friend for many years, Jaehyun had been waiting for the day you could show the crowds your full potential.  

“Did I really do it or did your girlfriend just get injured? How is she, by the way?” 

As much as you tried to play the overdramatic, conceited girl, you never believed in yourself but Jaehyun always did. You deserve the spotlight; your talent was out of this world and the masses were finally granted a chance to see you for what you were— a star.

“You did this. You were made for this part as much as she was,” Jaehyun reassured his best friend with a smile. He tapped your nose. “And she’s not my girlfriend but she’s doing alright. Just in a little bit of pain. I’m going to see her after we finish.”

“Give her some well wishes for me,” you answered. Jaehyun didn’t notice your smile dropping into a small frown.

“You ready to act like you’re in love with me?”

“I was born ready, you doof.” There was something weird in your voice when those words left your lips but Jaehyun didn’t have time to process it.

Professor Lau guided the students through a series of warm-ups before asking, “Shall we start with Do I Love You Because You’re Beautiful today? We’ll do a couple of run-throughs before Jaehyun teaches you the blocking.” His fingers played the beginning notes of the song, the light melody drifting to their ears. 

Already off book at this point, Jaehyun closed his eyes and began to sing.

Do I love you because you’re beautiful? Or are you beautiful because I love you?

Am I making believe I see in you A girl too lovely to be really true?

Do I want you because you’re wonderful? Or are you wonderful because I want you?

Are you the sweet invention of a lover’s dream? Or are you really as wonderful as you seem?

When his eyes fluttered open, Jaehyun found himself facing you with a script in hand. Your face wore the softest look as you stared back at him. His breath almost caught in his throat at the gentle smile you wore. You played the part differently from Naeun and it was a refreshing sight to behold. You were playing a confused peasant but your eyes still sparkled with the gleam of a thousand suns. 

There was a flush of heat that started from his cheeks and extended to his reddening ears. His heart was doing its best to break out of his ribcage and the star of the show wasn’t sure if his chest could keep it in for very much longer.

When singing with him, Naeun was a pretty princess.

But when he sang with you, the girl in front of him? Jaehyun thought you were absolutely breathtaking.

Two hours later, we were finally free of rehearsals. My first rehearsal as Ella. My throat was a bit parched from all the singing and projecting I was doing but I felt lighter than air. Singing with Jaehyun made me feel lighter than air. I was weightless, nothing could hold me down.

“Forky, you’re really good,” he said to me as we walked to our cars. I tried to fight the sudden heat making its way to my face. Lately, compliments from him were hard to come by.

 It was already late when O’Hare and Lau finally let us out, the moon sitting high in the sky. The night breeze crept its way into my thin jacket, causing me to hug myself to retain some warmth. Noticing my struggle with the cold, Jaehyun quickly draped his jacket over my shoulders. I was immediately hit with his familiar scent, it was almost overwhelming. I should be used to this, his action of sharing his clothes with me was nothing new but I was weak. It affected me every single time. I guess I was that head over heels for him. 

Head over glass heels, one could even say.

“You’ve seen me in action before and I mean, I was chosen to be the understudy for a reason,” I gave him a shrug. 

“Yeah but I’ve never seen you act and sing like that. Just...wow.” Stealing a glance at him, Jaehyun almost looked enamored with me. He was giving me a look that was usually reserved for someone else. I felt my heartbeat pick up in my chest and flutters in my stomach.

“Stop that,” I blushed, pinching his skin through the thin material of his long-sleeved shirt. A satisfying buzz ran through my body. Was he really looking at me like that? I was probably reading too much into it.

“No, but it seemed so real. Like you weren’t pretending.”

“That’s because I wasn’t,” I whispered under my breath as we arrived at our cars. 

“Hmm, you say something?” Jaehyun asked, leaning closer to hear me. 

Shaking my feelings away, I ignored the dull ache in my chest and acted through the tears I was desperately holding in. I wrinkled my nose at him playfully, secretly pushing the pain down my throat. “You really don’t listen to a word I say, do you, Jae? I said, I’ll see you later.”

“See ya, Forky! Get home safely!”

Scoffing to myself, I realized how much of a great actor I was. I deserved an Oscar or a Tony for the scenes I played out, the ones where I pretended to be okay when I was far from it. 

What award do you ask? Best Actress in a Supporting Role— the best friend to Jung Jaehyun but never the love of his life.

Wardrobe fittings for productions were always an exciting day for the whole cast and crew. It was one step closer to putting on a show. Jaehyun was already dressed in one of his many costumes, a white suit with golden trimmings. It fit him for the most part, only tiny adjustments were needed. Members of the wardrobe department quickly pinned his neatly pressed jacket before taking it off his hands. Since he was the main character, Jaehyun was one of the first ones done. He was simply waiting for you to come out in your first dress— the white gown for the ball scene in Act One.

When you finally did all those minutes ago, Jaehyun swore his heart stopped. 

Ten minutes ago, Jaehyun saw his best friend walk through the curtains. Your face was bare, hair still in that lazy style you always sported but your clothes. The comfy clothing you usually rehearsed in was gone and replaced by a beautiful ball gown. Despite the pins that scattered throughout the material to fit your form, it still appeared majestic. There you were, standing before him and the rest of the cast, and you were the loveliest you had ever been.

Ten minutes ago, you walked in and his head was reeling. Time slowed down as you tentatively made your way towards him. You did not meet his eyes but Jaehyun was dying to catch your gaze. He never wanted to let you out of his sight. The picture of his best friend in white was something he wanted to treasure and suddenly, the slowness around him stopped. The cast’s cheers and squeals disappeared. There was only you in that beautiful ball gown. 

Was this the slow-motion moment you always talked about? The one you always dreamed about experiencing? Jaehyun could see why people thought it to be magic. It was almost like a movie, movie magic if you will. 

Another look at you and then Jaehyun was in the future, watching you make her way down the aisle. A thin veil covered your face and he was so tempted to push it away from concealing your dazzling smile. His heart was fighting its way out of his chest, wanting to head down the path straight to you. How he wanted to reach out and touch you, cradle you in his arms. 

You were truly an angel in white. A princess. A queen.

The mere sight of you took him to the skies, the one place he was sure you were from. Although Jaehyun would never admit it, he always thought you to be beautiful. Throughout the many years of being best friends, he would find his gaze subconsciously drifting to you. He would rip it away before you would ever notice him doing so, knowing you would tease the hell out of him for it— it was his own little secret tucked away into the corners of his beating heart. 

“How do I look?” Your question snapped him out of his daydream and back to reality. Back down to earth. 

“Sorry, what did you say?” 

“Oh my god, you stupid spoon! I said, how do I look?”

“Lovely,” he answered sincerely, his brown eyes digging into your own. “You look absolutely lovely.”

Ten minutes ago, you simply murmured a question while Jung Jaehyun came to a realization. The realization that he might’ve fallen for you: his Forky, his best friend.

The loveliest girl he had ever seen.

With Cinderella’s opening night being only a few weeks out, you and Jaehyun decided to fit in extra time together to run lines and songs outside of scheduled rehearsals. That was the plan for every weekend and that particular Saturday was no exception to this plan. When his doorbell rang frantically, Jaehyun groaned loudly before getting up to answer the door. Did you always have to be so obnoxious?

Just as the door swung open, your loud voice boomed into his apartment, “‘Sup, ho! Ready to rehearse the hell out of this show or what?”

He stepped aside to let you in and you immediately made yourself comfortable in his humble abode. Jaehyun almost laughed as he watched you. There was a particular routine you stuck to when visiting his place. First, you would take off your shoes, slip on your personal pair of slippers you left at his house, drop your bag on the kitchen counter, and then open his fridge to raid his food supply.

Precisely as Jaehyun predicted, you waddled to the fridge in your memory-foam duck slippers and stole one of his yakults. He loved how comfortable you were in his home. It was truly a heart-warming sight.  The act itself was extremely domestic and he quite liked the domesticity when it was with you. That flash of you in a wedding gown came back to him and he blushed at the thought. The idea of spending a future together was flooding his brain recently and he didn’t know what to do. 

You weren’t the one he liked. Naeun was but why were you the only person on his mind? Was it wrong to have you in his mind? Naeun wasn’t his girlfriend— they were still getting to know each other. His time with her decreased over time since you had stepped into the role of Ella. He was very fond of you. He always had been. There was this little piece of his heart that was reserved for you but was it because you were his best friend or was it more?

Jaehyun quickly snapped himself out of it. 

“First of all, I’m not a ho,” he said before grabbing a yakult of his own. He poked the straw through the foil a bit too harshly, the liquid splashing over the top. Damn his strength— now half of his drink was gone. “Second, stop slut-shaming me for my dating choices. It’s 2021. If I wanted to be a ho, I could be a ho.”

You rolled your eyes as you took a sip of your drink. “God, I hate you sometimes.”

“You need to stop lying to yourself, I know you’re hopelessly in love with me,” Jaehyun said, pointing his drink towards you. He caught you rolling your eyes at his answer.

“Oh, you’re absolutely right. I am irrevocably in love with you, Jung Jaehyun,” you said sarcastically, dramatically batting your eyelashes his way. Your confession, despite being a sarcastic statement, left his heart racing against time. 

“Alexa, play Hopelessly Devoted to You!” you yelled ironically. 

“Now playing Hopelessly Devoted to You by Olivia Newton-John,” an electronic voice boomed across his living room before the opening notes of the ballad began to play. 

“Shit! I forgot you actually had an Echo,” you jumped, not expecting that at all. Jaehyun chuckled at your reaction, loving how easily you scare. He always thought it was one of your cuter traits. 

“Alexa, stop!” he called. 

Jaehyun ran a hand through his hair. He dragged his feet to his bedroom, knowing you would follow without a word. “I can’t rehearse today, I have to write this damned analysis paper for a class. It’s due in two days.”

“I’m sorry, is that paper more important than your best friend in the entire world?” you pushed from behind him.

“Yes,” he deadpanned, taking a seat at his desk. Jaehyun’s study area was an absolute mess. His notebooks were scattered around the floor, textbooks opened to random pages, and his laptop opened to a google document.  

“That’s a motherfucking lie and you know it.”

“I really can’t rehearse now, Forky,” he sighed.

He glared at you as you theatrically fell onto his bed. The notes spread out on his bed flying to the floor. “Oh, woe is me! Jung Jaehyun cannot give me the time of day to rehearse. What am I to do?”

“Why are you like this?” 

“I’m a theatre student, I’m wired to be this obnoxious,” you said with a straight face. 

He stared at you through narrowed eyes. “I really hate you right now.”

“I know,” you countered with a flat tone. “But in all seriousness, Jaehyun. I won’t take too much of your time. I just wanted to practice our duets a couple of times and then I’ll be out of your hair. Plus, you look like you need a break.”

One look at you and he was a goner. How could he ever say no to his best friend?

“Ugh, fine.”

“Ha, I knew you would cave.”

“Shut up.”

The next hour with you was spent rehearsing the numbers. During the last run-through, Jaehyun suggested going over the blocking and putting their all in it. To act like it was opening night. You swiftly agreed and he played the music from the top.

Jaehyun led you around his room, spinning you across the floor as you sang. The smile on your face was so lovely, he could not take his eyes off your lips. His eyes fluttered to a close and he imagined you in your full costume, downed in your gown, as dainty as a daisy and as graceful as a bird. The thought of you dressed like a princess drove him crazy.

He never thought of Naeun this way. This was different. You were different but why?

Jaehyun opened his eyes to see you smiling so gracefully at him as the song was coming to an end. Just as planned in the show, your gaze flitted to his lips. You leaned closer and he followed, dipping his head to meet you halfway. His heart was skipping to its own beat as he inched down. Your soft lips brushed against his oh-so-gently as he held you in his arms but before the boy could press back, the door to his room swung open.

You broke away from him, shocked at the sudden arrival to see your other friend and Jaehyun’s roommate, Dejun. “Oops, was I interrupting something?” 

“I, uh, I gotta go.” Before you could even stop him, Jaehyun grabbed his wallet and phone off his desk and ran out his room. 

Confusion clouded his senses. Why did he feel empty after you pulled away? Why did he want to kiss you so badly? It was just a stage kiss.

Was it not?

Jaehyun’s door slammed shut behind him, leaving me and Dejun in his room. It wasn’t long before we heard the front door close, too. “Well, that was something,” Dejun said after his roommate shuffled out of the apartment.

“Shut up, Xiao Dejun,” I replied, smacking his arm. 

My friend lifted his arms up in defense before he gave me a pointed stare. “I’m just saying, the two of you looked really into it. It looked great, to be honest with you. No notes to give here— I’m sure O’Hare and Lau would say the same.”

“It’s just acting,” I tried to shrug it off. 

“Stop lying to yourself.”

“I’m not!”

“Bulltshit. I saw the way he looked at you— that’s not acting, twerp,” Dejun declared, his voice dropping. His voice never dipped in tone unless he was serious and in that moment, he was dead serious. My friend sounded like a frustrated tutor deliberately explaining a concept for the fifth time and I was the stubborn student who just didn’t understand.

“Yes, yes it is!”

“No, it’s not because that’s how he always looked at you!” 

“Lies!” I yelled accusingly, “We got Liza Minnelli over here!” 

“God, you’re so annoying sometimes! Why won’t you confess? Cat got your tongue? Nothing’s really stopped your sharp tongue before,” Dejun groaned at my stubbornness. He slapped a hand onto my shoulder. I tried to shrug him off but his grip was too strong. Maybe it was him trying to help me get a grip. Who knew? I honestly didn’t. 

“It’s not like I haven’t tried, you know?” An exasperated answer left my lips. I was tired. So ridiculously tired of dealing with these feelings for my best friend. It had been four years since I fell for him. Four years of trying to see other people, four years of trying to confess, and four long years of failing every time.  “I just freeze up like a deer in headlights or like you did when you performed that one monologue sophomore year in voice and movement class. Remember that, Jun?”

I felt his sharp glare burning a hole in my back. “You promised to never talk about that moment, you traitor,” he hissed, his hand squeezing the hell out of my shoulder. 

“Okay yeah but you get the point, right?” My nails dug into his skin, leaving little indents onto his hand. He yelped, finally jerking his hand back to examine it. Shaking my head, I added, “Plus, he’s my best friend. I just can’t do it!”

“So, what you’re saying is that you choose friendship over the possibility of him loving you?” 

“It’s just...I don’t know—” I started, shifting my body to face him, “—choosing friendship means that I’ll only lose love. But if I chose to confess and put my feelings out there, I could lose him as a potential lover and my best friend. I’m not prepared for that. I don’t think I ever will be.”

And there it was again. The self-doubt hit me, imposter syndrome resurfacing at an all time high, bringing me to the lowest of lows. 

The feeling of being a fraud, of being not good enough. 

For Jaehyun. For any love interest for that matter. For the role of Ella. For taking my place under the spotlight. 

“Dejun?”

“Hmm?”

“Am I—am I good enough?”

“For?”

“I—I don’t know—” I stuttered as my mind was consumed by my own crippling thoughts. I tried to stay strong but the crack in my voice gave me away, “—for anything? Everything?” 

“Oh, twerp,” Dejun said in that particular voice and then that was when the floodgates opened. The tears just came pouring down with no sign of stopping. My friend gently pulled me into his comforting arms. They were snug and I felt safe but not as safe as I did in Jaehyun’s hold.

“You, my darling, are definitely good enough. Don’t let your thoughts tell you otherwise.” Although his voice was comforting, it did not help the unhinged thoughts running through my brain. 

“Then, why does it always hurt when I don’t get the role of the leading lady? Of his leading lady? I always get so far and then, at the end of the day, I’m just not what they’re looking for. What he’s looking for.” Pining for something so unimaginable was too taxing. Having the lead role in a play and having Jung Jaehyun wear his heart on his sleeve just for me. 

“Sometimes, the roles aren’t made for you and that’s okay.”

“But what about this one?”

“This one, twerp, this one is a little different.” 

“And why’s that?”

“Because there is music in you; it goes hand in hand with Jaehyun, like a melody to his harmony. You are his Ella and he’s your Topher,” Dejun urged. It was like he was begging me to not give up hope. 

“You’re just saying that.”

“I’m really not. You just gotta do what the theatre gods tell us to do: just trust the process.” 

How could I trust the process when all it did was hurt me by allowing me to have a glimpse of a love and a life that would never be mine? 

Opening night finally arrived. Everyone was called to the theatre for a full run through in the afternoon: the final dress rehearsal hours before the doors opened and the curtains were drawn. I had gotten there earlier to soak in the calmness of the empty auditorium before the chaos began.

I heard heavy footsteps come from behind me. Even without turning around, I knew it to be Jaehyun. The boy took a seat next to me on the wooden prop walls that were locked into the ground. If the stage managers and props committee saw us, they would’ve definitely ripped our heads off but they weren’t— it was just us.  

“Penny for your thoughts, my dear Ella?”

“Topher,” I answered, playing along with his game. “Lovely to see you here bright at early.”

“I knew you would be here and I wanted to be here with you,” he said, pulling me into a side hug. Jaehyun knew me well but did he know me well enough? “Spill it, Forky. What’s wrong?”

“Sometimes I still doubt myself,” I said a little too fast. A loud sigh followed my reveal. The crippling doubt was always there, haunting me. Let me tell you, it was not the best thing in the world to have during an opening for a new production. 

“Oh yeah?” Jaehyun asked, pushing me to continue. I felt the soft brush of his palm against my hand. His fingers grabbed hold of my wrist before fighting their way to tangle with my own fingers. The sensation tickled, taking me away from my thoughts for a fraction of a second. I played with his fingers, watching the way his pinkish hand fit with mine. 

I refused to look at him; I was too afraid of breaking down.“Doubting myself, my abilities. Always the understudy, never the star, remember?”

Jaehyun hummed. He rested his chin on my shoulder. “Did something change?”

“Yeah, I finally realized that maybe it wasn’t that I wasn’t right for the part; the part wasn’t right for me,” I laughed a bit dryly. “Does that make any sense?” 

“Weirdly, yes,” he replied, his breath blowing against my neck. I tried to ignore the tickling sensation and the way it made me feel. 

“But this is different— I feel like I was made to play Ella. Made to play her even though I got the part in this odd, unconventional way,” I turned my head to the side to avoid eye contact. “The girl who sees the good in everything despite the hardships and suffering she went through.”

“Without a doubt, I believe that you belong on stage with me,” Jaehyun answered sincerely, “and I’m glad we have the chance to finally play opposites.” 

He squeezed my smaller palm in support. I appreciated the reassurance; the action slightly calmed me down before she took the next step. Possibly the biggest step of my entire life. “There’s something else I realized, too.”

“Oh yeah, what’s that?” Jaehyun asked softly. 

Taking a deep breath, I said, “I realized that I could be right for you.” 

It took him a minute, a long solid minute before Jaehyun could bring himself to respond to my confession. I wondered what he was thinking at that moment, when those words left my mouth. “Right for me?” came his tentative reply. A quick glimpse at his ears and I saw the burst of red. He was caught off guard, embarrassed. 

“Yeah,” I said almost shamefully. Was I ashamed of my feelings? I never was ashamed before. Maybe it was because Jaehyun finally saw me for who I truly was— his highly dramatic best friend that was head over glass heels for him. 

“How long— how long have you felt this way?” The red of his ears seeped to his rosy cheeks. 

“Ever since we were a dumb pair of utensils,” I replied sincerely, my voice wavering at the truth, “a set of ridiculous tableware.”

There was an awkward chuckle that left his drying lips. I heard him click his tongue, a habit he did when Jaehyun never knew what to say. It seemed like I rendered him speechless. “Since we were sixteen? That long and you didn’t say anything?”

“You’re really asking me that?”

“Yes, I really am!”

“Jaehyun, c’mon. Use your brain! How was I supposed to? You’re my best friend and when you’re not my best friend, you’re out there chasing other girls,” I stopped to lick my drying lips. There was another inkling of silence and I gulped at how tense the atmosphere was. “And I thought maybe once, just once, you would chase after me, too.” 

I almost laughed; my greatest desire was finally out in the world and it was greeted by silence. 

“But what if I’m wrong for you?” 

And there it was. The rejection I was preparing for. Giving him a pained smile that failed to meet my ears, I said, “Then that’s life, I guess.”

“You guess?” 

“Well, I can’t make you act like you’re in love with me, can I?” I snapped, my pain taking the best of me. It clouded my brain, blocking off all rational thoughts out of my head. “This isn’t a play or a movie with a script, Jaehyun. This is real fucking life.” 

Hurt. I was being overwhelmed with a wave of hurt and anguish. My body was trembling as much as my eyes were. I felt them growing wet and I shut them closed. My hands curled into fists, nails digging into my skin. It stung but not as much as being rejected by the one you loved most. The lead of the movie in your mind. 

“Wait, no, that’s not what I meant,” Jaehyun tried to stop me from getting off the stage. I pulled away from him, quickly snatching my belongings before heading to the nearest exit. Turning back around before I left the empty auditorium, I experienced another moment in slow-motion. 

There Jaehyun was in all his glory— denim jacket slipping over his broad shoulders, dark brown hair sticking up in all directions and a confused look on his face. He looked like a mess under the spotlight of my mind but nevertheless, he was my mess of a best friend.

He was my mess of a best friend and that was all he was going to be. That fact hurt more than being the forever understudy. 

Why couldn’t I fast forward this portion of my life? Why must I suffer this much?

Why couldn’t I escape the role of being second best?

If only my life was a movie, then maybe I wouldn’t be everyone’s second choice. His second choice.

If we were in a movie, Jung Jaehyun would be my best friend and my perfect match. Our story would be the typical friends-to-lovers saga that every girl dreams of. It would end happily with the credits rolling to a perfectly timed soundtrack. 

Too bad this wasn’t a movie— this was real life and life came with complications.

After that confrontation, you and Jaehyun were off and not off the charts— just off. The directors noticed it. The stage hands noticed. The cast noticed it. The final run-through before the curtains opened just finished and it was an absolute disaster because of the way you acted with Jaehyun. Every time he opened up his body to you, the response you gave him was closed off. Cold. 

To the rest of the cast and crew, the prince and princess didn’t seem very much in love that day— they didn’t even seem friendly. You and Jaehyun seemed like two strangers trying to work their way across a stage. There was no connection. There was nothing else there. 

Now, if only you would let Jaehyun talk to you, maybe something would change but you didn’t. You ran away every chance you could. It was like Cinderella, but you didn’t leave a glass slipper behind. You didn’t leave anything behind. 

Less than an hour before showtime and he couldn’t even talk to you. Let alone look at you. He sighed into his hand, palms applying pressure to his eyes. Jaehyun cursed under his breath, forgetting that he had a heavy amount of stage makeup on his face. Looking into the mirror, he saw his makeup was still intact. Thank the theatre gods for the Ben Nye Final Seal Setter. It seemed like that it was the only thing set in stone at that moment. 

The door to Jaehyun’s dressing room slammed open and Dejun waltzed in, fully dressed in his costume.“Dude, what was up with you and the twerp during that dress rehearsal? You were so off!”

He received no reply, Jaehyun was too zoned out to hear. Dejun hopped onto the counter of Jaehyun’s dresser. Usually, the action would shock the main lead but Jaehyun was too lost in thought.“Well, you know what they say about a bad dress rehearsal. That means we’ll have a good opening night,” Dejun said, eyeing his friend for his lack of response.

Finally looking away from his reflection, Jaehyun glanced up at Dejun with a look of disbelief. “She likes me?”

His friend jumped off the counter with widened eyes.“Oh my god, did she finally confess? Was that why you were acting weird?”

“Dejun, you knew?” Jaehyun slammed his palms on his dresser. The makeup products on the tabletop shook, leaving the other guy to wince at the show of strength. 

“Honestly for being the ace of the theatre department, you sure are dumb,” Dejun replied a bit too casually as he leaned into the mirror to examine his appearance. He clicked his tongue upon realizing his cheeks didn’t have enough color. The stage lights would wash him out. The boy reached for Jaehyun’s pink blush and a clean wedge before applying it onto the apples of his cheeks.

“What should I do?”

“Well, Jaehyun, what do you want to do?” Dejun asked, turning side to side to double-check his reflection. 

“I don’t know that’s why I’m asking you!” Jaehyun fired back with vigor, hating how casual his best friend was acting. He was having a before-show crisis and his best friend was calmly stealing his bottle of Ben Nye, spraying his beautifully sculpted face with the setting spray.

“Well, do you like her more than a friend? And what about Naeun?”

“Yes? No? I don’t know! But—”

“But?” His friend asked before hopping onto the countertop. The actor raised his perfectly shaped eyebrows at his friend and Jaehyun had the sudden urge to pluck the beauties they were until Dejun had no eyebrow hair left. When Jaehyun didn’t reply, Dejun repeated his question.

Dropping his head in his hands, Jaehyun hesitantly replied, “There was this moment when I saw her and it was like that thing she always said? The slo-mo thing?”

Dejun’s head perked up. “You saw her in slow motion?” 

“Yeah, it was like time stopped. All I saw was her and then…” Jaehyun thought back to seeing you in a wedding dress. He changed his mind; he didn’t want to talk about his feelings. All he wanted to do was make sure opening night ran as smoothly as possible. Grabbing his white suit jacket for the top of Act One, the boy stood up in an attempt to escape his friend’s sudden peak in curiosity. “Never mind, this is ridiculous. I gotta go, Dejun.” 

“No, you’re not going anywhere until you actually confront your damn feelings,” Dejun said, shoving his friend back in his chair. “Do you like Naeun?”

There was a pause before he answered truthfully: “Yes.”

“Okay, and are your feelings for Naeun stronger than what you have for your best friend?” 

“No,” Jaehyun released another sigh as he leaned back in his chair. A hand reached up to brush through his hair before he remembered that it was gelled back in place. He dropped his hand to rub the back of his neck, not wanting to mess with his looks before places. “I was infatuated with Naeun but with her, god, she’s something else and it took me this long to realize it.”

“How do I know you’re not just saying that?” Dejun questioned, squeezing his friend’s shoulders a bit too tightly. Jaehyun thought his friend was testing him and for a good reason. If he was in Dejun’s position, Jaehyun would’ve grilled his friend, too. “How do I know you’re actually in love with her? Yes, you’re my roommate and best friend but she’s my best friend, too. I can’t let you hurt her if all you feel is something temporary. I can’t let you treat her like those other girls.”

“Because she’s The One, Dejun. I’m certain of it,” Jaehyun snapped back. “When I look at her, I see everything I’ve been searching for. It’s like I was blind for the longest time, you know? She was always just Forky to me back when I didn’t know any better. But now I see and all I see is her— her, with all her flaws. The way she hides her insecurities with her dramatic outbursts. How she picks at her cuticles when she’s nervous or how she always steals my food at home. And the way she just fits with me. I can’t explain it.”

Jaehyun didn’t even give his friend a chance to butt in. He was still rambling on with a fond smile, his mouth running a mile. “She’s been there with me since the beginning, Jun. Before I was this prince of the theatre department, she was there. She’s been there since the beginning and even when I was chasing after girls, she was there at the middle of it all, and fuck, I want to go all the way to the end with her.”

Dejun released his hold on his friend and rolled his eyes. The boy made his way to the door of the dressing room before mumbling under his breath, “God, what is with you two and giving out monologues? I swear, when this is all over, you should become playwrights.”

“What?”

“Never mind me, Jaehyun,” Dejun opened the door and gestured for Jaehyun to follow the path— the path down the hall that led to you. “What are you waiting for? Go get her, we have 30 until Joohyun calls for places!”

“Dejun, it’s much more complicated than that.”

“It’s only as complicated as you make it out to be. Just— just go and talk to her, yeah?”

Jaehyun sighed deeply as he reached your dressing room door. He knocked lightly, running through the lines he wanted to say in his head before you shouted a faint “come in.” The door squeaked open to reveal you, his best friend in the whole entire world, touching up your makeup. The best friend that he was inescapably in love with. You watched him through the mirror as he leaned against the frame with crossed arms. 

“Can we talk after the show? There’s something I need to tell you— it’s important. I don’t think I—um, I have enough time to tell you now,” Jaehyun asked, stuttering through his words. Gone was the confidence he usually bared. The only thing left in him was a scared little boy, afraid of the problem his words may cause. 

The smile he received from you did not reach your ears. “Of course,” you replied curtly before turning away from him. He noted how you were over applying your blush and fidgeting with your costume. You were doing everything in your power to avoid him. 

The tugging of your ear, the biting of your lip, the picking of your cuticles. He saw all your bad habits. You were a ball of nerves and the speaker announced it was ten minutes before places.

“Hey, Forky?”

“Yes, Jaehyun?”

“You know that I believe in you, right? Always?”

There was a twitch at the corner of your lips. “I do.”

“Good,” Jaehyun approached you with caution. You watched him from your mirror, never making direct eye contact as he came closer. He dropped a kiss on the crown on your head, relishing in the way his plush lips against your torn bandana and the lace front wig. “Break a leg, my Ella.”

He observed you through your reflection and took in how beautiful you looked in your rags. You made the rags the costume department designed for you look like riches. 

“Same goes to you, my prince,” he heard you answer in that soft tone.  Again, you had sent him to the skies and the boy was struggling to find his way back down.

When it was time to draw the curtains and light the lights for the first performance of Cinderella, it seemed like everything fell into place.  Jaehyun stared at you across the stage, falling for the way the lights illuminated your figure in that white ball gown. The bright glow brought his attention to your bright grin, that beautiful and radiant smile of yours, that shocked him to his core. 

Jaehyun locked eyes with you and suddenly, he was drowning. He was drowning in your expressive eyes. He was drowning in your overflowing love. 

It was different being across from you in front of a full audience. There was a rush that took over him whenever he saw you and it beat the flurries his heart experienced with his other leading ladies. As you said your lines with that bewitching sparkle in your eye, Jaehyun hated himself for not realizing how much he loved you sooner or how you were never playing pretend. 

But that was okay because Jung Jaehyun loved you now. He loved you in the world you made believe on stage, where he was Prince Topher and you were his Ella, and he loved you in reality where you would always be the fork to his spoon. 

Opening night went smoothly and the roaring applause I received during my final bow sent me to the moon. The way Jaehyun looked at me across the stage with eyes filled with pride and joy blasted me to places I had never been before. I became high on this feeling of being under the burning spotlights. The feeling of wearing the most intricate costume and the way his hand slid into mine for the last bow before the curtains were drawn; it was something I wanted to treasure for the rest of my life.

But with every high came a low— my low hit me when I ran into Jaehyun’s dressing room. I caught him in an embrace with Naeun who gifted my best friend with a rose. She placed a kiss on his cheek, causing his white ears to flush a deep red that rivaled the flower he held. The girl gave him a quick shove of the shoulder before heading to me. 

Her congratulatory statement went in one ear and out the other. I could barely process Naeun handing me a rose of my own before she walked out of the room, the sweet scent of her perfume lingering in her wake. She gave my best friend one more lingering look as she left and it hurt me in so many ways.

“Ready to go?” Jaehyun said, clearing his throat. “Wanna stop by the stage first? Soak in your first opening night as a lead?”

“Why the hell not?” The walk back to the stage was short. It felt different somehow.

“We did it,” I whispered.

“That we did,” he answered back. 

We walked onto the stage together and I could still hear the crowds cheering for me, giving me the standing ovation I earned. It was electrifying, the way the sparks ran through my body. It ran from the top of my head to the tips of my fingers and toes. 

Glancing around the empty auditorium, I pondered aloud, “But do you know what sucks about it all, Jaehyun?”

“What?”

“There’s nothing worse than the feeling of not being chosen and it still hurts that I wasn’t the first choice,” I replied truthfully, “Not as much as before. But I’m learning to get over it. The casting directors saw potential in me.”

“That’s because you do have the potential to be a star. You’re practically glowing right now.” I felt his eyes trained on me, just like they were the entire time we shared the stage. 

Turning abruptly to face him, I said, “You really can’t say that to me, you know?”

“And why’s that?”

“Because it makes my heart beat against my chest and these stupid butterflies come around before I remember that you have never chosen me to be your first choice,” I glared. 

“But I do choose you,” Jaehyun pushed, his voice laced with desperation, “That’s what I was trying to tell you before you stormed off on me earlier!”

“Are you really choosing me, Jaehyun? The real me? The me that has been your best friend for years? Or are you choosing the me that shares a stage with you every night? The me that could potentially be your next whirlwind romance?” No matter how desperate he sounded, he couldn’t beat the hopelessness that was dripping from my own voice. 

“No, that’s not it at all!” his voice boomed, the sound echoing throughout the empty auditorium. 

“Then, what is it, Jung Jaehyun? Because I am tired of being second best and I’m tired of not being chosen,” I almost cried. The anguish was just taking over my body and I couldn’t make it stop. “Yes, I know some parts are not right for me but I can’t help but be hurt. And then you say that you’re choosing me? Of course, I’m going to think of it being because I’m your newest love interest on stage.”

“If you could just listen—”

Unable to stop the words from coming out, I just kept running off at the mouth. Everything I wanted to say to Jaehyun was flying out of my lips at rapid speed; I couldn’t even stop it. “I have seen you in slow motion so many times and I want to just fast forward from those moments. To speed past them so I can move on from the idea of not being yours. I refuse to be a temporary love that you lose interest in. I just want you to pick me, to choose me, and to love me, damn it— is that too fucking much to ask for? To be chosen and loved?”

While I was taking a breath to continue with my rant, Jaehyun cut me off and the words he said rattled the stage, the ground beneath my feet, and my whole entire world.“No, it’s not and you are way fucking more than that, if you just take a moment out of your godforsaken monologue and listen to me! I choose you not because you’re my leading lady but because you’re you. You’ve always been this— this incredible, breathtaking you.” 

He took one step closer and I took one step back. “And you’ve the person at my side when no one else is.” 

Every single time I would retreat, Jaehyun would follow. The boy was persistent, his brown eyes trained on me. “The one who figured out you loved me first while I was too blind to see it. You’re the fork to my spoon. We’re a set, we go together. And I was too dumb to figure out that at the end of the day, I always think about you and how no one I’ve ever been with compares to you.”

 When my back hit the wall, I was trapped. Trapped in between his arms and the way they propped themselves on either side of my face. Trapped in the haze of his brown eyes and how they dug deep into my soul. 

 “I don’t see you in slow motion— I see you in fast forward. I see you in the future, my future, walking down the aisle in white and I don’t even know what I’m saying anymore. All I know is that I choose you. I will always choose you.”  

I was trapped by Jung Jaehyun and there was no escape for me. Judging by the way his eyes never let me out of his sight, there was a chance my friend didn’t want to let me go either. He wanted me to stay. 

“Jaehyun, what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that I love you. You’re my beginning, middle, and my end.”

“You love me? Like you’re in love with me?” Jaehyun heard you ask, like the possibility of being loved by him was so impossible. You were searching for any inkling of doubt but he made sure you couldn’t find any because you were the only thing he could see. 

Jaehyun brought a hand near your cheek. It hovered there as he hesitated to touch it to your skin until you leaned into his touch. Your cheek felt so warm in his palm and it was so comforting to have you in his hold. “I wanted to say it earlier but I was just so scared of losing you as both a lover and a friend because what if it all goes to shit? What if we go to shit and things hit the fan? I can’t lose you.” 

“But you, Jung Jaehyun, are in love with me?” you repeated as your hand cupped his own. The smile you gave him was bright enough to light up the stage. 

“Yeah, I thought I made that clear. I’m sorry, did I mumble that line?” he teased playfully, trying to coerce a giggle out of you. “Should I start the scene over?”

“No, no. I’m just—” you paused and he watched you recollect your thoughts. His glittering brown eyes were trained on you as the words processed in your head. “You love me,” you laughed in disbelief. 

Jaehyun took a step closer, his hand tentatively reaching out to stroke your face. He sighed in relief as you relaxed into his touch. “You’re my number one girl. I choose you.” 

“Well, it’s a good thing that even after all this time, I’ve always chosen you, too.”

Once those words left your lips, he couldn’t hold himself back. Wrapping his arms around your waist, Jaehyun pulled you against his chest and smashed his lips against yours. Yes, he had kissed you on multiple occasions prior to this— onstage and off— but this time was different than the rest.

 This was the first time he really kissed you after your feelings were out in the open.

The first time he kissed you and finally felt the love you harbored for so many years. Jaehyun just hoped you could sense the love he was pouring out for you, too. 

He did not want to let you go but he was struggling to breathe. You were so lovely, everything about you was so incredibly lovely, and to have you in his arms was the best feeling in the universe. Everything around him turned dark and he felt the warmth of a spotlight and the flush of your body against him. The entire world was spinning beneath his feet, his heart racing, and his lips chasing you and only you. 

Jaehyun did not understand why people did drugs— the high of being so ardently in love with another person, with you, gave him the high that he needed. 

He felt you hit his chest in an attempt to end the kiss but Jaehyun did not want to stop. A light shove to his shoulders was enough to separate his lips from yours and what a sight you were— chest panting heavily for air, lips plumped and swollen, and the prettiest set of eyes widened in shock.

“You kissed me!” you said in between pants. “Like not a stage kiss but you actually kissed me!”

“That I did, love,” Jaehyun replied cheekily, taking another step towards you. You stepped back to lean against the wall but did nothing to stop him from coming forward. “Are you gonna do something about it?” 

The look in your eyes changed after you heard his new nickname for you. It was coy. Flirty. Challenging. “Do it again, I dare you,” you whispered a bit too loudly. 

Before Jaehyun closed the distance, his eyebrow perked up at the challenge. “Gladly.”

Senior year was there before we knew it. 

Another year, another posting day. 

Dejun, Jaehyun, and I swiftly made our way down the hall to the front of the theatre department, curious to find out which roles we were given. The spring production and the final musical of our college career was Disney’s Beauty and the Beast. 

Callbacks for Belle went as smooth as ever— the chemistry between Jaehyun and I were off the charts. But why wouldn’t they be? We were together now. 

Just like any other time, the crowds gathering around the cast list and bulletin board parted immediately once they caught a glimpse of Jaehyun approaching. The only difference was that this time, he was tightly clutching my hand. 

When we arrived in front of the board, I shut my eyes before I could read the cast list. An anxious buzz flowed through my veins, tickling the tips of my fingers and toes. My boyfriend must’ve felt the twitching of my fingers or the sweat dripping off my palms. 

I felt his body shift towards me. “Want me to take a peek first, love?” Jaehyun asked as he pressed his plump lips onto the crown of my head. He nuzzled his nose into my hair, a small but sweet action that always comforted me. 

Shaking my head, I looked at him and said, “No, why don’t we look together?”

“On three?” he grinned lovingly.

“On three, you dumb spoon.”

The countdown was quick but the glance I took at the cast list was even quicker. It was so quick, I almost didn’t catch who was put into the role of Belle. Taking a double take, I let go of Jaehyun’s hand as my eyes zeroed in onto the tiny print. 

Everything around me came to a stop as I read and re-read the cast list. Everyone around me was celebrating their parts but I couldn’t hear them, they were all muted in my mind. All I could hear was the sound of my own breaths  and all I could see my name on the top of the page. 

Belle……………..Y/N The Beast……..Jung Jaehyun

“Oh my god, I got the part,” I whispered to no one in particular. Backing away from the board, I repeated the same words a little louder and it got the attention of everyone surrounding me. Before I knew it, everyone threw a congratulations my way. The cheers were loud and obnoxious but they were for me because I did it. I finally did it.

Feeling a little overwhelmed, I backed away from the blustering crowd before bumping into my boyfriend’s firm chest. Jaehyun caught me in his hold, his arms circling around my waist. He dropped his chin on my shoulder and placed a tender kiss on my temple. “Would you look at that? We’re not a ridiculous set of tableware this time.”

“No disrespect to those parts, they were awesome, but I think I like this a lot more,” I giggled, turning in his hold. 

As I circled my arms around his neck, he whispered, “Same here.”

I yanked him down into an earth-shattering kiss that sent the world spinning beneath my feet. It slowed down, speeded up, and it did everything in between. I saw flashes of yellow ball gowns, royal blue coats, and Jaehyun smiling at me gracefully across the stage. 

Jaehyun staring me down from the other end of an altar. 

I saw it all. 

If my life was a movie, then this would be the time that the screen would fade to black and show the names. Some overly poppy song would resonate through the speakers and everyone would get up from their seats and gush over the happy ending.

But it wasn’t. My life was as real as it could be and it was even better than any romantic-comedy that would ever grace the screen. 

This wasn’t the ending. 

This was the perfect beginning. 

AUTHOR’S NOTE. hello, my darling readers! you really didn’t have to wait that long for this release, did you? a big thank you to several people: @johtenrecs for always being my beta and for the helpful feedback, to my chaotic gc ( @smoll-tangerine, @ppangjae, @jaedore​, and @jeongvision) for listening to me complain about how i was losing it while writing this fic, to @suhpressed​ for helping me with brainstorm, and lastly, to my lovely @notnctu bc without her and our crazy idea of hosting a hannah montana collab, i wouldn’t have gotten this idea! love y’all! hope you enjoyed this and please leave feedback! uwu

TAGLIST. @yasmini24 @jaehyunnie77 @emmybyeakitty @fluffyjaes @aevizen @dearjaehyxn @yourmagnanimousholiness @jaehyvnsvalentine @keemburley @softieus @lanadreamie @lebrookestore  @notmangojuice @felixn-recs @captainsjoongs @anotherfullsun @ukiyoneo @kunrengui​ @babyyynatty​ 

© sehunniepotwrites, 2021

[songbirdsingingthings]

You and Your Everything - Shouto Todoroki x Reader

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

MHA Masterlist - Main Masterlist

WARNINGS: Your parents being the absolute worst, a few minor curse words, a lil angsty

Requested by Anonymous:

HI i love your writing and i saw that your requests were open? i was wondering if you could do like a shoto x reader but instead y/ns parents are like the opposite of shoto and endeavor? like for an example how shoto wants nothing to do with his dad and and all y/n wants to do is please her parents or make them happy since they never pay attention to her like that? both house holds are still toxic but i feel like thatd be an interesting dynamic

A/N: This was so interesting and cool to write! Obviously, the subject matter was much angstier and sadder than a lot of the stuff I have written, but I found writing this, like, entire paragraph of dialogue of Shouto (you’ll know it when you see it) to be so entirely incredible. I just kept on writing. Thank you so much for this awesome rec!

Word Count: 1.8K

“You’ve reached the voicemail of Kana Y/L/N. Please leave a message. BEEP”

“Hi Mom, it’s me again. Just calling to remind you that third years are allowed to reserve a box for their parents in the Sports Festival arena! I saved one for you and Dad in the front row, which are the best seats in the whole place. The Festival takes place tomorrow, as I told you guys about three months ago so you could put it on your calendars. I’m, uh, looking forward to seeing you again! Love you, bye!” Pressing the red circle that represented an “end call” button, you heaved a sigh and looked through your recent calls. Nine recent calls that your mother had missed within the last three days. Ten that your father had. They’re just busy, you tell yourself, trying to ease your mind. They’re just busy right now, but they had said that they’d come. They’ll come. Your thoughts had consumed you to such a point you didn’t even register the little nudges to your side.

“.../N? Y/N?” You blinked quickly to rid your consciousness of its prior dilemma and turn your head to the side. With heterochromatic eyes blinking fondly at you matched with a slight frown of concern, your boyfriend prompts the same question that had earlier feel upon deaf ears. “Y/N, I was asking if you are alright. You seemed a little… not here when I asked you just a minute ago.” Shouto’s voice, like always, is level, however little hints of emotion always tend to slip in between the cracks of his pronunciations. Like now, for instance, you hear the traces of worry cling onto his words.

“Oh, sorry, I was just leaving a voicemail.” You say simply. The sentence that left your mouth would seem normal to any person that you were friendly with. However, Shouto knew the implications. His shoulders seemed to tense as he took your hand. You squeeze his hand to reassure him. “Don’t worry Sho, they’re just really busy people. I’m sure they definitely carved time out of their schedules to come and watch me. I just need to make sure I get into the tournament round so I don’t waste their time.” You say, laughing a little dryly. Shouto doesn’t smile at the joke you made at your own expense.

“I just don’t get it.” He says, which makes your smile drop into a frown. “Why do you try so hard for them.” Your spine straightens at his words and your grip on his hand loosens. “Y/N, they’re awful people-”

“They’re my parents and I want to make them proud.” You say swiftly, a slight grimace on your face. Silence settles between the two of you, that is, until you feel your phone vibrate in your pocket. Jumping up immediately and grabbing your phone, you take a glance at the caller ID. Your heart sinks as you see it’s a random telemarketer, and click decline call. You look back to your boyfriend, which was a mistake, because his eyes pooled with pity. Not feeling quite right in the space you were in, you grab your school bag and stuff your phone the furthest down it would go. “I’m going to go freshen up before dinner.” You decide, nodding towards Shouto and walking away a bit.

“Do you want me to come with you?” His suggestion on a normal basis would make your face flush and your heart beat a bit faster, however today you just wanted to be alone for a bit.

“No, it’s okay,  I’ll see you at dinner.” You say quickly.

“Y/N.” His grip came softly around your wrist, tugging you back a bit to face him. “I’m… I’m sorry about what I said earlier. I just love you,” he said those last two words a bit softer than the others, “and I want to see you happy.” Butterflies took flight in the pit of your stomach as you held Shouto’s gaze, his heartfelt and earnest words weighing heavily within your heart. Your frown wobbles into a smile as you lean in to place a quick kiss to his cheek.

“I know.”

“Did you see me out there?!” You cheer, careening down the arena hallway towards where Shouto was waiting with open arms. You leapt directly into them and was quickly picked up and spun around in a little circle.

“I did, you were incredible.” Shouto gushes, his cheek squished against yours. You laughed joyously as you felt his arms squeeze you closer to him, your heart racing with both leftover adrenaline from your second round tournament match and the feeling of love from your boyfriend. However, your laughter and the embrace you were tucked into died down when you heard the faint clearing of a throat, causing both of you to turn towards the sound. If you were looking into a mirror, you’re sure you would see your eyes grow to the size of saucers and your jaw dropping just a tad at the sight before you. There, standing about ten paces away, were your parents. Your mother, with her hair tied back in an uncomfortable looking bun with her freshly pressed pencil skirt and matching career jacket. Your father at her side, his suit and pants looking as sharp as ever. And the expressions they held…

“M-mother? Father? You two made it?” You stammer out, dumbfounded at their appearance. “But I, uh, didn’t see either of you in the stands.” You admit, earning a nonchalant expression from both parents.

“Well, with that lackluster performance that you executed, did you really think we would want to show our faces? It’s bad enough our colleagues know of you and all your little failures that you like to categorize as triumphs. Honestly, you really thought that we would want to be on camera for the entire world to see?” Your mother’s bored tone and biting words struck you hard. You felt your spine straighten and your hands stick to your side as you bit the inside of your cheek.

“But… I won.” You said, so soft that the sound of someone’s heartbeat could overpower it. If your gaze wasn’t stuck to your parents’ forms, you would have seen Shouto’s eyebrows narrow, awaiting for the oncoming onslaught.

“Good Lord, you want to call that a win? It makes me wonder how you ever got into this school or passed any physical examination in your class.” Your father’s tone, just as bored and apathetic as your mother’s, sent trembles down your spine. You clenched your fists and jaw to try and prevent crying. But, of course, it was of no use. The tears trickled their way, one by one, down your cheek like raindrops on a car window.

“And you’re crying now. Fantastic.” Your mother retorts, turning her to your father now. “I told you we should have sent her directly to the Hero Public Safety Commission. Would’ve toughened her up in no time-”

“CAN’T YOU SEE SHE’S UPSET?!” You almost didn’t recognize his voice. The soft spoken, pensive Shouto Todoroki that you knew to be your boyfriend rarely got upset. When he did, it was almost always in the middle of a battle or fight, just as he was about to use a special move. But this time, it was pure rage and anger that clung onto his words. Your parents, now sprouting an expression of slight surprise turned their attention to the seething red-and-white haired boy at your side. “All she ever does is work to make you happy. Day and night, twenty-four seven, it’s for you. And now here you come, strutting back into her life with some agenda on how she should fight and how much of a so-called failure she is?! Well screw that! You don’t get to have an opinion when it comes to her! She has been trying to get a hold of both of you for months on end and getting no more than the same damn message from your voicemails, telling her that you’re too busy for her!” Shouto’s face was red now. His fists were balled up and the tiniest flecks of flames were flaking from his left side. “And then, you’re now finally here, and you come with this holier-than-thou attitude! Y/N L//N, your daughter, is the most incredible and capable person I have met in my entire life. The fact that a person like her can rise like a phoenix from the ashes that is your attitudes and parenting styles is a miracle, because in every way, shape and form, she will forever be a marvel. To me, to our classmates, and to the entire world. I just can’t wait to see the look on your sorry asses when the time comes for her to give her thank you speech after becoming the number one hero, and you don’t hear either of your names mentioned once.” The silence is deafening after Shouto finishes speaking. You feel your whole body trembling and can recognize that there are tears falling down past your cheeks, but nothing else. Nothing else, until that constricting feeling that you felt bound to you to your parents’ approval starts to loosen the moment Shouto takes your hand in his. 

“Let’s go.” Your words, merely more than a whisper, is all it takes for Shouto to wrap and arm around your waist as he marches past your dumbstruck parents, towards a private room. The second Shouto clicks the lock shut, you let yourself break down. Sobs racked your body as you clung onto his shirt, his arm, and his love. “They’re supposed to be my parents. How… I can’t even do anything.” You hiccup into his tear-stained gym uniform, the one identical to yours (without the blotches of tears).

“Hey, shh, you’re okay. You’re fine.” Shouto says, his reassuring words grounding you. “You will get through this whole… mess, okay? I know you can. All you need to do is take it one day at a time.” You nod into his chest and let your head lie there as the tears finally started to cease from falling.

“You, uh, probably have to get ready for your match, right?” You sniff, moving one of your hands up to your face to rub at your nose.

“I’m fine here.” Shouto says, wrapping his arms around you. “Y/N, you really were incredible out there. Do not let them make you think otherwise.” You nod again as you feel Shouto begin to play lightly with your hair. “You are enough. More than, in fact. They might think otherwise, but I don’t. I love you, and your smile, and your everything.” You were too fried emotionally to say anything back, but Shouto knew. He knew that it would take time to finally break from your parents’ psychological hold over you and that he would always be there at your side.

[ashintheairlikesnow]

📋 Hello I am putting a formal request in for more Chris Saves Himself AU ft Mama Nakamura taking him I’m home only to realize the full situation

Continuing the Chris Saves Himself AU: One | Two |

CW: Grief, memory loss, recovering whumpee, some very brief and very vague references to noncon, minor whumpee (OC is 17), angsty fluff, reunion

It takes six days for the cops to let Akio's mom bring Tristan back to their house.

He's ready to be discharged from the hospital by day two, but there's nowhere for him to go. WRU is still saying there's no record of his existence, even with the barcode on his wrist. Tristan's only known living relative, Joanne Botham, is claiming he ran away from home and she had no idea what happened to him, that what she had told the Nakamura family was out of frustration and anger at Tristan for disappearing. The governor is out on bail facing charges for keeping Tristan in the mansion in the first place.

There are a lot of charges.

Akio feels by turns numb and enraged when he hears a news anchor read them out loud, bloodless words that don't seem to reflect at all how serious their meanings are.

The first few, he can process - false imprisonment, bodily assault - but then they keep going, and they get worse in ways Akio can barely even begin to imagine.

What Tristan has lived through... Akio's brain refuses to let it coalesce fully, but he has nightmares, dreams about Tristan screaming for him and being on the other side of a door Aki can't open.

He dreams about hands on Tristan's body and the way he might have screamed for help. Akio wakes up crying, retching, running to the bathroom to throw up whatever he's eaten that day as if he can rid himself of the poison of knowing.

His mom calls a therapist.

His father tells him to stop watching the news.

Akio just waits until they're in bed and searches for everything he can find on twitter, on reddit, on every-fucking-place anyone is talking about this. And it's everywhere.

He stops telling his parents about his nightmares after the second night.

Oliver Branch says WRU sold him a product they knew was outside the bounds of the law and lied to him about it. WRU says they don't know what he could possibly mean by that and they have no paperwork or documentation that Tris was ever in the system at all, and if he was, then there must have been a mistake about his age. They swear they'll do a total review of every single Box Boy, Babe, or Buddy to ensure absolute compliance.

The soundbites make Akio's mouth dry.

How many are there, then? If they have to keep looking to find more? How many like Tristan?

How many?

Joanne Botham, who never answers Aimi's furious calls and then changes her number after the second day, goes on TV and says she did nothing wrong and there's no proof that anything happened except maybe Tristan lying about his name and age to make WRU agree to take him in. Oliver Branch says he has the proof WRU knew, and he'll provide it in exchange for immunity.

They all point fingers at each other on national television, in press conferences and through their attorneys.

Through it all, Tristan sits in a hospital bed staring out the window at the blue sky as though it will be stolen from him all over again, waiting to be told where to go, what to do.

And it takes Aimi nearly a week to get the police to agree to allow her to take him home. She brings everything she can think of to meetings with the detectives heading up the case, shows them reams of team photos and home movies, folders and folders of everything Aimi and Mrs. Higgs had ever talked about or done together with the boys.

The hospital needs the room, needs the bed. The detectives don't want to put him into foster care when he barely seems to understand he's a person. The social services people won't take him because they're not equipped to handle a situation like this one. The adjustment houses don't want him because of something to do with what kind of Boxie he was, and Aimi doesn't elaborate and something in the set of her expression makes it clear Akio shouldn't ask.

After a week of mostly just being able to look at him through the small little square window in the hospital room's door, Aimi finally gets legal permission to take him out of there.

Akio isn't prepared for the slew of news vans that are there when he and Aimi arrive, someone having tipped off reporters that they might get a glance of the governor's secret Box Boy today. Aimi, though, simply sets her shoulders, slides a pair of dark sunglasses on, and walks through the crowd like a queen with her head held high, a small duffel bag handle in hand.

Akio hurries behind her, hands in his pockets and shoulders hunched, hood pulled over his head, trying to ignore ten thousand camera flashes. It's so much worse than the leadup to the Olympics would have been, if he were still performing at elite.

Or at all.

He has a strange, surreal hope that Tris won't be disappointed in him for quitting after Tris died.

Even though he's not dead.

They step into the hospital room around 10 in the morning to find Tristan not in the bed, but sitting on the couch built into the wall under the window, curled up on the crinkly plastic cushions to look out the window, humming low, soft and tuneless.

The hum makes Akio's heart ache with a sudden realization that this odd waking dream he's been living for a week isn't a dream at all. Tears flood his eyes and he has to blink them away as fast as he can. He's heard that hum in his ear as kids during sleepovers, he's heard it when Tris was nervous before performing a new routine, he's heard it while they waited anxiously for scores or studied for school.

"Hey, sweetheart," Aimi says, her voice low and soft, but even so Tris jumps and turns to look at them with wide, startled eyes. One hand goes up to his neck, and Akio swallows when he sees Tris has wrapped gauze around his neck to sit like the collar he was wearing when he fell from the governor's bedroom balcony.

Akio watched the cell phone video that made the rounds over and over and over again. The flash of red hair, shirtless, the bruises he was covered with, his hazy drugged eyes. Over and over and over again.

Watch him fall, watch him land, watch the people run to him and get him out of there when Akio has been sitting here crying his eyes to red half the time for a dead best friend who wasn't dead at all.

"H, Hello," Tristan says, but he doesn't know them. Akio can tell, the way his eyes move between them is uncertain, unsure. "Hello, ma'am. Can, can, can I, what..." He swallows, shivering, and Akio watches the fear move across his face. "What... what can I... do for you?"

His slowed-down voice makes Akio feel sick. He's only ever seen Tristan do that when he's with people who don't understand him or love him for who he is. Now it seems like it's the only way he remembers how to talk.

All Tristan's muscles from gymnastics are gone, leaving only faded shadows of his strength behind. He's skinny, so pale he nearly reflects the light from the ceiling. His freckles are faded, and his hair is shorter than Tris ever liked it.

Being so thin makes his eyes even bigger, they seem to overwhelm the rest of his face.

"Honey, we're going to take you to our house," Aimi says, keeping her voice the same low gentle cadence. "While we figure out what happens next. Aki and I will be taking care of you for a while. How's that sound? Would that be okay?"

Tristan looks between them again, and something shifts in his face. A kind of desperation moves there, and he turns more fully to face them, leaning over a little to look up at them. Hair falls over his forehead, and his hands move to rub over the texture of a loose pair of sweatpants someone gave him to wear under his hospital gown. "To... your house? Would I be... yours?"

He looks at Akio again, and there's something in his face that says he sees that as the best case scenario, that he was ready for far, far worse than simply changing owners. That he's... hoping he'll be Akio's property now.

Akio's stomach flips at the thought and he has to put a hand over his mouth and turn away, catching the sob before it can make its way up out of his throat.

Aimi's arm moves around his shoulders instinctively, and she leans over, pressing a kiss to her son's short black hair. "It's okay," Aimi whispers. "It'll be hard at first. But it's going to be okay, Aki. Saishūtekini wa daijōbudesu. Tristan wa mada anata no shin'yūdesu."

Tristan, sitting on the little couch, blinks a few times. "Friend," he says in English, a little haltingly. "Shin' yu. Means... best friend." He scoots closer to them along the couch, and his eyes are so big and so very, very green. Just how Akio always remembered them.

Aimi's head raises and turns to look at him, her arm tightening around Aki, breath catching in her throat. "You remember that?"

"No." Tristan shakes his head. Scoots a little closer, even. "Yes. I don't know why. Are you..." He looks at Akio. "Wa-... watashitachiha... sh-shin, um, shin-shin'yūdeshita. Yes? Did I-... did I say it right?"

Tristan's Japanese was never great, he'd just picked up some here and there from all the time he spent around the Nakamuras at home and in their car. They used to lay awake at night during sleepovers practicing over and over until Tristan had a new phrase to impress Aimi with.

But hearing his voice, his living breathing real live voice, sounding out the words...

It's too much.

It's too fucking much.

"Yeah, um, y-yeah, you-..." Akio's words are suddenly gone. He chokes on his fear that this somehow is a dream he will wake up from to find Tris still cold in some unknown open grave, and he can't keep the tears back any longer.

His knees buckle under the onslaught of grief and hope and fear and love, and he drops to the cold tile hospital floor, hands pressed over his mouth until his lips are pushed painfully into his teeth, and he wails, muffled but loud enough that there's rustling as the cops guarding the door turn to look inside through the viewing window.

Aimi drops into a crouch behind him, rubbing at his back as he curls over himself. Her voice trembles with tears she doesn't shed. Akio remembers the days after they were told Tristan was dead, how she would cry in her room at night with Aki's dad when he was home from work, but somehow when he and Emi were bawling their heads off, her voice stayed calm, she kept her composure.

Right up until she was alone.

Now, though, she's barely hanging on as her son sobs on a hospital room floor before the emptied-out shell of his best friend.

Bare feet pad along the floor until Tristan drops down in front of him, reaching slowly out. Cool fingertips touch the back of Akio's hand, and he pulls them slowly down to look and see Tristan only a foot or so away from him, kneeling, watching him.

"I know you," Tristan whispers. "It hurts, but... I know... you. Don't, um, don't I?"

Akio can barely see him through the tears that have turned the world to watercolor suggestions. Nothing's in focus. But he grabs onto Tristan's hand, those familiar always-cold fingers, and holds tight.

"You know m-me," He manages. "You do, Tris. You know me. We-... we know you. We want to t-t-take you h-home."

Tristan tilts his head to the side, and it's such a familiar gesture, one he was so sure he'd never get to see again. "My... name is Baldur," He says, softly. "My Sir named me-"

"Please don't call him that. Can you... can you answer to Tristan? Please?" Akio is the one to reach out this time, touching Tristan's shoulder, hesitant. Waiting for him to pull back and away, to flinch like he's been doing when they watch him with the nurses.

Instead, Tris takes a breath and leans into the touch.

"It hurts," He says. "But, but, but, but-... but I can try."

Akio nods, and then Tristan is moving forward, and their arms are around each other and Akio is scared of himself for a second, scared of the welling of feelings he can't control. He's afraid he'll crack Tristan's ribs with how tightly he holds on.

Tristan's face buries itself against his neck, into the crook of his shoulder.

"I missed you so much," Akio whispers against the coppery hair. He's going to start crying again. He can hear his mom sniffing behind him, digging into her purse to pull out the little pack of tissues she always has in there. "I missed you so, so much, Tris."

"I think... I think I, I, I missed you, too," Tristan whispers back, and Akio isn't sure if he can even know if he means it, but he also knows that it's so good to hear the words that he doesn't even care.

-

@burtlederp @finder-of-rings @endless-whump @astrobly @newandfiguringitout @doveotions @pretty-face-breaker @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow @boxboysandotherwhump @oops-its-whump @cubeswhump @whump-tr0pes @what-a-whump @whumptywhumpdump @downriver914 @whumpiary @orchidscript @nonsensical-whump @outofangband @eatyourdamnpears

[frostfireft]

Can we have more Bickslow headcannons? And maybe Evergreen, Freed, and Lexus too?

Fuck yeah you can! I’m gonna start with a lot of angst and then move into their dynamics as a team. (this got REALLY long but I’m not sorry)

-I gave you all my HC for Freed’s backstory in my last post and mentioned that Freed is the reason that Bickslow and Evergreen joined the guild, so have both their backstories too! 

-Bickslow grew up in a travelling circus with several other child performers. It wasn’t exactly a nice environment. There were lots of issues and safety hazards and abuse going on behind the scenes, but they were forced to keep smiling and performing through it all. 

-Bickslow was especially targeted by the ringmaster because of his magic allowing him to look into people’s souls. The ringmaster is the one who forced him to wear a helmet when he wasn’t using his ability on the crowd for money. 

-Because of that, he only had five friends back then, all children younger than he was, who looked up to him both for his tricks and the fact that no matter how upset he was, he had a smile for them.

-one day the tent caught fire during a practice. Bickslow was the only one to make it out alive. 

-but considering all the traumatic events they went through, most of the children kept there weren’t able to move on, and their spirits lingered in the area... Except for the five kids who were most fond of Bickslow. They stayed near him and talked to him all the time, especially once they realized he could see them. You still have a soul as a spirit after all. 

-the town he was in began to think he was crazy because he was “talking to the air” all the time, and they would continuously call child services to try and take him to an orphanage. The five spirits however, would warn him before they could, and Bickslow used his years of acrobatics skills to stay away from anyone who tried to move him away from where the circus burned down. It may have been a place of trauma, but there were good memories too, and it’s all he had. 

-So the town tried one last gamble. Who better to adopt a child with mysterious magic that Fairy Tail? 

-And Makarov, in an attempt to get Laxus to be more social, decided to send him and Freed. 

-It went about as well as you’d expect. Laxus tried to fight him while Freed did research on the area and what happened to him. 

-Laxus didn’t have as much control over his magic as he thought he did at that age, and Bickslow was kicking his ass before Freed showed up and trapped him so they could talk.

-Freed shared his story with him and offered the same thing Laxus once offered him: a home. 

-Bickslow cracked soon after that, and told them everything after Freed started asking questions about the town thinking he’s crazy while they were on the train back to magnolia. 

-While many members of Fairy Tail were unnerved by him, those around their age did their best to make him feel at home. Natsu listened to all his stories about the circus and about the five ghosts who followed him, and Bickslow listened to his stories about the dragons. 

-Freed used this time to research Seith magic extensively, and he eventually came across the idea of putting the souls into objects. He and Bickslow worked for weeks to figure out how to do it, and the five spirits became his five main “dolls.” 

-He of course, asked them if they were okay with being alongside him before putting them inside the tiki dolls, and if he cried when they said there was nowhere else they’d rather be? Well Freed and Laxus weren’t going to tell anyone about it. 

-Evergreen was both harder and easier to get back to Fairy Tail. 

-Like Freed, She was once a part of the noble class, but under a name she never wants to use again. 

-When she gained her eye magic, she accidentally turned her mother to stone, and it was all downhill from there. Her father tried to keep her locked in a room, and it worked for a long time. 

-Eventually though, she had decided she’d had enough, and snuck out and ran as far away as she could. She kept a ribbon tied around her eyes any time she had to go into town, and learned how to walk while completely blind. This did some damage to her eyesight after several years of doing it. 

-it felt like it was too good to be true. She was free and she did odd little jobs in a town far from her original home to earn money for food. it was all she needed..... Until a child tore the ribbon from her face. 

-the second she made eye contact, the little boy turned to stone. There was nothing she could do about it except cover her face up again and run. 

-her father, however, had notified several guilds about her disappearance and claimed she was dangerous if left alone, so when stories spread about a homeless child turning a boy to stone, it became their first lead in months. 

-there was a lull in fighting missions at the time, and something about her magic intrigued Freed. It was an eye magic like his and Bickslow’s first magics, and they aren’t exactly common. Freed, Laxus, and Bickslow took it upon themselves to take the mission to bring her home.

-She very quickly figured out how to hide herself in the woods and away from people. Freed had to trap the entire area and make it so that eye magics don’t work within his barriers before they could even get close to her. It took almost a month. 

-And much to their surprise, she was nothing like what they were expecting. After all, they were supposed to be hunting down a nobleman’s son, not a daughter.

-Bickslow almost immediately asks her about why she ran away, and Ever looks up at him- then panics as she slams her eyes shut- but he doesn’t turn to stone because of Freed’s runes, and he explains as such. 

-They have a long conversation about why she ran away, and she tells them everything her father did to her, from being locked in her room to being terrified to tell him she’s his daughter and not his son because of his anger issues.

-They realize then and there they can’t give her back to him, and Freed comes up with the plan to tell him that they didn’t find his son, but rather a random girl with a similar magic, and she can join Fairy Tail instead of staying on the run. 

-The only reason she doesn’t agree immediatly is because of her eye magic. She couldn’t control it, and the idea of turning someone to stone again scared her.

-Freed sent Laxus to buy a pair of glasses without a prescription and a nice dress for her to wear, and he etches runes into the glasses to block her eye magic when they’re on.

-She’s sold from that moment on, and the raijinshuu’s friendship is sealed with that secret. 

-Laxus helps her chose her name before they get onto the train, and they solidify the story before then too  

-Makarov Accepts the story without question, even though they have a sneaking suspicion he knows. 

-They become a tight knit group in no time. 

-Then they learn about Ivan and all he did to Laxus, and they start to jokingly refer to themselves as the Laxus protection squad. It’s a lot less of a joke when Ivan’s actually around though, and the guild definitely notices. Makarov even starts to officially call them that in some reports. 

-No one remembers who suggested the name “raijinshuu,” but they all privately agree it’s dumb. Especially since  it insinuates that Laxus is the team leader. Freed’s the captain of their team for a reason.

-Dispite the fact that Bickslow is the tallest of them, both Laxus and Freed are both physically stronger than him. That’s not to say he isn’t strong, but Laxus can carry freakish amounts of weight due to his slayer biology, and Freed does the same due to his demon biology. 

-Freed can carry all of them at once. No one knows how. 

-Freed puts new runes on Ever’s glasses every time she gets new frames or a new prescription. He knows she doesn’t need it anymore, but she’s always grateful for the option. 

-if they share a bed, Freed and Ever cannot sleep next to each other. Their hair tangles together and they’ve only had to make that mistake once. 

-Ever and Bickslow are not under any circumstances allowed to cook, Freed can make fancy meals, and Laxus makes homemade stuff that would make your mouth water. He also stress bakes in secret at four am. 

-That’s how they always know he’s stressed when he doesn’t tell them. It’s kind of hard to miss 6 batches of cookies that spontaneously appeared overnight

-Freed has an unsharpened rapier that feels like getting hit with a slap bracelet at full speed. Naturally, this is the sword he chases Bickslow with when he pisses him off. 

-Laxus likes to pretend he’s one of the smartest members of the guild, but the raijinshuu knows he’s actually kind of a himbo. 

-Bickslow is really close friends with Loke, and when he noticed the man was dying slowly, the others comforted him despite not knowing what was going on.

-Bickslow often helps ghosts pass on from the mortal plane. 

-Evergreen keeps up with all the latest fashion, but she still considers Freed to be more fashionable. Because of this she always double checks her outfits with him. 

-Evergreen’s always the first to sass someone when they’re being rude to her team. It’s earned her her reputation as a “bitch” but she’s far too proud of it to be offended.

-One Laxus was open about his dragon slayer magic, they pushed him to talk to the other slayers to learn about himself and his magic. Freed and Bickslow pushed the hardest though, since they’re friends with Natsu and knew that he would be all too willing to drag Laxus into his little family of dragon slayers.

-Laxus was much happier oncce he accepted that he was more dragon that human anyways, and the more he learned, the happier he was. 

-In case it wasn’t clear: mtf Trans!Ever (she/her exclusively), he/they Freed, and  wtf is gender, is it a food?” Laxus and Bickslow (any pronouns). 

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 30

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: angst, panic attack

A/N: all i can say is enjoy it before it goes completely downhill xx

NEXT CHAPTER

   - Marry me, Y/N. - she looked at him in disbelief, lips slightly parted as she wondered if she had heard him correctly?

   - What? 

   - I ... hm ... would you consider being my wife at some point in the near future? 

His father had once told him the moment between the proposal and the answer is the longest moment he’d ever go through. Bucky knew long, he knew long times, he was 106 after all but this moment seemed to last three centuries. She stared at him as if she had merely imagined those words. His heart beat against his chest like a drum, as she opened her mouth. She was going to say no. Why would she even say yes? She was so sweet, so beautiful, so full of a  sweet loving innocence which just  made her endearing to anyone and everyone who met her. He is not the type of man that ends up with a girl like her. No, he’s the type of man who she dates as a mistake, the one she dates before she meets the one and Bucky was constantly waiting for the moment she realised he was a monster.

  - Yeah. - she smiled, the type of smile which easily brightened up his day. She moved from her spot in the bed, sitting on top of his lap to wrap her arms around his neck. - Yes, I will marry you. 

  - What?

  - Yes. - she leaned down to kiss him. - I will become your wife at some point in the near future. 

  - So, just to be safe, you are agreeing to marry me? Me? - he was still in shock she had said yes. Those words, that question, it was just came out of his mouth like crazy ramblings spawned out of his desire to have a family with her. He just didn’t expect her to say yes. He didn’t expect her to be sat on top of his lap, smiling at him having said yes. - Doll, I ... Fuck, I don’t have a ring. I can’t believe I just proposed to you without a ring.

   - That’s fine. I love you and you love me. I don’t need a ring. - she cupped his face, kissing the tip of his nose. - Just us. 

   - Just us. - he leaned towards to capture her chapstick covered lips into a soft kiss. - I like that, princess. Just us. 

   - Yeah. - Y/N shyly smiled, leaning against his shoulder. - You make me so happy, Buck. You don’t even know how happy you make me. 

Bucky didn’t say anything. He didn’t know what to say, what to reply to her so all he did was just look at her, head tucked on the shoulder, the metal shoulder with such confidence and such care. She did not believe he could hurt her and she loved him. There were little moments in his life which had made him want to cry, he had refused to cry many times, but having the woman he loved tell him she loves him, she cares for him, she’ll marry him ... the same woman telling him he makes her happy, not just any woman, the woman he loved ... gosh, it was too much. All he could do was kiss her scalp, hold her close to his naked chest which in any other time it would’ve turned sexual but now, now it was just a candid moment, a moment he wanted to hold close to him for as long as he could leave. He refused to forget the feeling of her hair strands against his shoulder, her warm hand against his chest.

The rest of the holidays were as eventful as it would be. Y/N had decided to only tell her parents about the engagement, keeping her extended family and siblings outside the news merely to keep the event away from the media. She didn’t want it publicised and neither did Bucky. Her parents were overjoyed, with her mother wanting to take photographs of them to put on the family album while her father just gave him the look he would’ve given to his sister’s husband had he been ... well, there. All good things come to an end and that end was very close as the two of them were supposed to fly back to New York for Y/N to attend the New Years’ Eve Vanity Fair gala. 

     - I wished we could stay for longer. - Y/N groaned as she stuffed more clothing into her luggage. - Last thing I need is a gala.  

     - It’ll be okay, princess. - Bucky came up from behind her, resting his chin against her shoulder. - We can return when you have another free time slot.

     - I never have free time. 

     - I’ll steal you away if they overwork you. - he bite her shoulder playfully. - What’s the sad mood really all about? Don’t tell me it’s about missing Colin calling me a 200 year old. 

      - It’s silly. - she shook her head, folding more of her clothing to put with the rest of it. 

     - I know that face. - he turned her so she was facing him. - What is it? Is it your parents? Do you miss your parents?

     - No ... I ... uhm, remember the Halloween party you and I went to?

     - Yeah, what about it?

     - I met some people from the RSC and they said if I ever was in London, I should try and audition for their West End run of Moulin Rouge. I got this e-mail yesterday, auditions are in like an hour and I don’t know ...

     -  Do you wanna do it?

     - No, I mean ... I can’t, my contract says they’ll pick the opportunities for me and it’s London and I’m in New York. Besides, we leave in two hours.

     - They don’t need to know. 

     - Bucky ... - she was about to argue with him but he interrupted her, kissing her sweetly. 

     - Do you wanna do it? - he looked into her eyes. Bucky could always tell when she was lying by looking into her eyes; she would always divert them away from the person standing in front of her, normally to the right, chin tucked into her chest, gaze up. 

     - I ... I do but ...

     - We can make it. Your agency does not need to know and it’s not like it’s a done deal. Princess, if you wanna do it then do it.

     - Buck, it’s not that simple. 

     - It is that simple, doll. I can get you wherever you want without anyone knowing and we’ll still make our flight.

     - Bucky, I’m not gonna get it. - she sat on top of her bed. She didn’t know if she was gonna get it and it wasn’t that she was afraid of failure or rejection, god she knew both too well, all she was afraid of was if they discovered. She was under a tight contract but those words, that invite to her during that party, it just pulled at her conscience. Bucky was much too familiar with her to know exactly what was going through her mind. 

      - I’m not gonna let anyone touch you. - his fingers hooked under her chin, turning her face towards him so he could lean his forehead against hers. - They won’t know.

    -  Bucky, they always know.

    - You don’t get to be called a ghost story if you’re not good at being a ghost, princess. If you don’t want to do it then it’s okay but if you’re not gonna do it because of what your agency thinks ... 

    - You’re sure no one will know?

    - Well if they do, we can always get you plastic surgery. - he lightened up the mood making her look up at him, her chin tucked in her chest as she lightly giggled, rolling her eyes at him. - You’ll be fine, princess. 

She was nervous as the taxi pulled in front of one of the theatres were the auditions were happening. Looking at her watch, exactly an hour before they had to make it to the airport, check in and get to their gates. Maybe this was a mistake, how was she supposed to feel? The agency had given her a shot at a career in the States, everyone wants a career in the States. She should be happy, she should be so happy but how happy could she feel about being back if thinking about stepping into that plane destroyed her heart into a million pieces. Looking to her right, Bucky was smiling at her, always blindly believing her even if she led him directly into the fire, but he was there. He kissed her temple as she left the car and rushed into the theatre before anyone could show. 

She had been to so many auditions before, she had felt her body shake so many times when her name was called out after signing a non disclosure agreement as it was usual for popular shows. This time it was different, this time the light seemed brighter, illuminating each of her features and almost illuminating the sweat starting to form on her forehead. She stood tall, almost like a woman in a panting with hands resting against the beginning of her skirt, one foot in front of the other. 

    - My name is Y/N Y/LN and I’m auditioning for the part of Satine. - her voice even wavered as she struggled to do something she had been so used to doing since she was young. 

    - What will you be performing, Miss Y/L/N?

    - If It is True from My Life with Albertine. - she looked over to the pianist, signalling him to start.

Her heart was beating so fast and she could feel her whole being shaking as she wondered what Miss Olson would do to her if she even suspected she was doing an audition outside of her contract. She ended up missing the first bars, looking down at her feet as she thought back to quit until she saw him sat down in the further back of the theatre. Cap on, almost covering his whole face but she could see his eyes, she could see his blue eyes just like she could see them every morning  when she woke up. 

    - If it is true, you love me. If when at night dreaming you dream of me then I am luckier than the king who rules the sea. - she decided to sing for him instead, blurring everything except for his almost blended figure in the back. Her hands touched the pearls laying against her neck as she cocked her head to the side, small smile on her lips. - And if I die a sudden death for reasons why I do not know. But if I die a sudden death to live forever in paradise, I will not be as happy, in all that time, as I have been with you. If it is true, if it is so, you love me. If it is true, and I have heard you then I am wealthier than a queen with love of you, I am wealthier than a king with love of you.

The bars ended and she returned her gaze to the board of the directorial team which gestured for her to leave and someone else to enter. She left through the backstage, meeting Bucky just at stage door, who wrapped his arms around her, twirling her before kissing her lips and nose.

    - You did so great, princess. It’s almost unfair for the other people auditioning.

    - We need to get going or we’ll miss our flight. - she avoided another one of his kisses, her watch shining brightly with the hour. - C’mon. 

    -  It’s gonna be fine, princess. We’ll make it.

Once again, he was right. How could he not be right? When it came to time management, Bucky seemed to be almost too good at it, almost too good for someone who had so much time. Nevertheless, they were inside the plane again, the time when they had left New York now so behind them as they returned to his birthplace. She leaned against him arm, not caring it was made of metal, it was him and that’s all it mattered to her. Y/N was innocent enough to believe she could do  whatever she wanted while in London, while in the airplane but she knew the moment she stepped foot on American soil she was back to being property of her agency. Back to the parties, the gowns and the constant filming. She loved her job, she really did but things pilled up so easily and she felt locked inside a cage, slowly suffocating. 

She did not want the plane to land, she did not want to be in the present of her situation but it did and during the early hours of the morning both her and Bucky were going down the stairs of the plane and onto the sleeve which lead to the baggage claim area. Bucky immediately went in bodyguard mood despite the fact the airport was very much empty but no him no amount of care was too much and until they got inside the taxi, he cut through people with precise ease, yet held her hand like any boyfriend would. The ride home was silent, neither Bucky or Y/N liked to discuss their matters in front of people they did not trust. The walk up to his apartment was equally silent, with the both of them basking in their own comfort until they reached the door. The two walked in hand and hand before throwing the bags to the side.

    - Home sweet home. - Bucky kissed the side of her forehead. - So, what’s the agenda for tomorrow?

    - Boring. - she groaned, sitting down on his couch. 

    - You get to eat for free, how boring can it be?

    - Those 40s habits sure die hard, don’t they? - she smirked. - I need to get to my apartment at 4PM to get my makeup and hair done, put the dress on ... PR shots and so on. 

    - Your apartment?

    - I know what you’re thinking, Buck. - she tilted her head slightly to the side.

    - I am not thinking anything.

    - Please. - she crossed her arms. - You’re thinking it’s not safe.

    - That’s not what I’m thinking. - he walked up to her, wrapping his arms around her waist. - I’m thinking it’s not safe to have that many people in an unsafe apartment without me around.

    - You’re not gonna be there? - she was taken by surprise. Bucky was always around, even when they weren’t dating. 

    - Ms. Olson said I can’t be there. Might spoil something ... whatever that means ... but I’ll escort you to the venue and stay with you from then onwards.

    - You’re not gonna be far, are you?

    - I thought you knew what I was thinking, doll face. - he leaned his forehead against hers, teasing smile gracing his lips as those words left him. - You think I’d let you be alone with those people far away from me? No, princess, I’ll be around. 

    - Good. 

Y/N did not enjoy the parties she had to attend as a member of her agency. Everything was highly planed, too planed even and so was this day. She entered her old apartment and a swat team of people were already waiting for her, she smiled at them, grabbing the letters which had started to pile up on the floor ever since she left to stay with Bucky, until Ms. Olson grabbed her arm and pulled her into her bedroom where the hairstylist and makeup artist were waiting for her. Her assistant’s hands pushed onto her shoulders to sit her down in the chair. Y/N started to go through her letters, most were Christmas postcards, bills, letters from several companies and none mattered much except for one in a brown envelope. She furrowed her eyebrows at the lack of sender name or even her own name or address in the envelope. As the hairstylist started to style her hair, she opened the envelope, a few photos of her falling on her lap. A breathe got stuck in her throat as she saw her own eyes scratched out with crosses over them. 

   - What is that? - Ms Olson took the photos off her hands. - Why is this still happening? Last thing we need is crazy stalker PR.

   - I .. I don’t know. - she shrugged, not knowing why she felt so guilty. It wasn’t her fault. Right?

   - Right, I’m sending this to Mr. Hawthorne, he has a friend in the government, and you ... you better not get into any trouble tonight, Y/N. Are we clear?

   - Yes, Ms Olson.

   - Good and try to smile a bit more for the photos. 

Her ears filled with a static buzz and although she could see herself in the mirror and her surroundings, she felt she was laying on the floor of a dark room with dead eyes. Motionless, she remained motionless staring at herself in the mirror yet not understanding the image she could see. She wondered if she had fallen too deep into the industry to be rescued and suddenly that black dark room was filling with water and she just let it happen. Y/N just laid on that metaphorical dark ground, floating in the dark water which kept entering her lungs until she couldn’t bring anymore.

   - You’re ready. - she had been so lost in her own mind she did not realise she was fully dressed, hair ready and makeup done. It was pretty subtle, she thought, small black dress falling pretty much looser with tussled hair and skin toned makeup. It was something she’d pick for herself ... maybe the agency did knew her better than she did. 

They did the same thing they always did, some shots some not candid candid moments for social media and the good old fake champagne shot. She never really enjoyed champagne, she found it quite bitter even sour but it was prestigious. She guessed somehow it correlated with how she lived now, or how she was portrayed. She was ushered into the limo to Bucky, her Bucky yet she couldn’t really say anything until it was just her, Bucky and the driver. Once they were at least 10 minutes, it felt like the air she was holding in finally came crashing and she was pushed back into her own reality.

   - Y/N. - Bucky only spoke her name, not touching not do anything. - I am here, you are safe.

   - What? - she looked his way before smiling. She was an actress after all, but he was a former spy assassin. 

   - You are safe. - her features relaxed and she didn’t say a thing, instead marinating in her own thoughts. - I am here, you are safe.

   - I don’t wanna go. - she let it out, her face coming to the realisation of what exactly this meant. She knocked on the partition. - Stop the car.

   - What? - the driver was as confused as Bucky was. 

  - STOP THE CAR! - she yelled out and the car came to an abrupt end. She opened the door and like a mad woman she walked out into the first alley she saw, leaning against the wall with her hand pressed against her chest. Bucky went after her, stopping after he saw her leaning against the brick wall, hand over her mouth. Bucky knew panic attacks when he saw one and this was one of them. 

  - Princess ... - he walked up to her, trying to hold her but she stopped him.

  - I’m not going.

  - Okay, we’re not going. - he took off his gloves, raising his hands in the air. - Look at me princess, it’s me okay. It’s me, just me. Just us. 

   - I can’t do this anymore. 

   - Can you breathe in for me? - Bucky managed to finally hold her once her defences were down. - Count to ten in your head and then breathe out. 

Y/N breathed in, her head going immediately to count sheep, specifically 10 sheep. It was childish and she knew it was childish but she always did that whenever she needed to recover from feeling anxious. She let the air out before repeating again for what felt like a hundred times and things seem to calm down. However, peace and quiet wasn’t in the cards for her.

   - Just what in the heck do you think you’re doing. - Ms. Olson’s high pitched voice made her flinch. - You are not important enough to win the privilege to be late. 

   - Keep it. - Bucky warned, giving her the look no one wanted to receive. A look that was more Winter Soldier than Bucky Barnes.

   - You stay in your lane. - she pointed her pen at him. - Get in the car right now, Y/N. I do not have the time to deal with whatever childish diva tendencies you’re developing.

    - Not now, let her be.

    - Y/N. - she tried to grab Y/N’s arm but Bucky got to her before she did, twisting her wrist with his metal arm before he could even realise what he was doing. He let go of her wrist, but still looked at her as if he was ready to kill her. Instincts die hard. - You are going to regret this, Barnes. And you, Y/N, get in that car now.

   - No. - she meekly perked up.

   - Excuse me?

   - No. - she spoke out a little bit more strongly, forcefully grabbing her purse. - I am not going. 

   - You don’t get to ...

   - Yes, I do. - she interrupted him. - I did not sign a contract which specifically mentioned what events I need to attend, just how many. As such, I am not going and if you try to stop me or try to touch me without my permission ever I will sue you for harassment and I don’t think having an affair with Mr. Hawthorne pays for the legal fees you’d have to pay.

   -  You will sue me? - she almost scoffed at the not so meek actress. 

   - My dad is a barrister and my siblings are all lawyers. I have more knowledge of law and suing than you ever did and ever will. 

   - You wanna call the shots now, tots? - she rolled her eyes before stepping back. - Okay. 

Y/N remained behind suspicious of why it had been so easy to get rid of her but decided not to dwell on it. Bucky too was unsuspicious but was more worried about Y/N. She wrapped her hand against his, kissing his shoulder as the two watched Ms. Olson’s car leave along with her car. Typical. Of course she took her car. 

 - It’ll be fine, right? - she questioned looking up.

 - If everything goes to hell, we’ll move to a private dessert island and start there.

 - Let’s just go home. - she breathed out. - Let’s just forget new year’s eve.

 - It’s a lousy date anyway.

 - Yeah. Why are we celebrating the sun rotating a full turn around Earth? It’s ridiculous. 

Bucky was always happy to spend alone time with her and while part of him wanted to ask what had triggered her panic attack, he let her have her space. The two of them just sat on the couch, his head on her lap as she played with his hair, some old movie he liked to watch back in the 40s. The year went by and a new one began. At the beginning of the year, he wouldn’t have believe he’d end up here, with her, with the woman he loved, engaged. It was almost too good to be truth and sometimes Bucky wondered if he had been knocked unconscious during a mission and this was all his mind giving him what he always wanted. She had fallen asleep, having laid down next to him. 

The morning peeked into his apartment and as per usual he was the first one up, tidying the place up and even putting some flowers up for when she woke up. Y/N loved flowers and so he had made it his mission to ensure she always woke up to new ones. “This is going to make you broke” she would tell him, but he didn’t care. If he had to spend his last days buying fresh roses every morning for the woman he loved then he was going to do it. He leaned against the fridge, drinking his coffee as he did each morning until his phone rang. He clumsily tried to answer it before it could wake up Y/N. Damned IPhone and damned Sam Wilson who made him switch from his razor phone.

    - Barnes. - he answered.

    - Mr. Barnes, it’s Agent Cox. We have an assignment for you.

taglist: @disasterbii​ @lookiamtrying​ @buckysteveloki-me​ @americasass81​ @jamesbarnesappreciationclub​ @lostinthebeans​ @mariahthelioness29​ @bbabysbaby​ @peaches-roses-sins​ @theadorasabditory​ @sipsteacasually​ @saiyanprincessswanie​ @booktease21​ @noiralei​ @learisa​ @everythingisoverratedbutgreat​ @uglipotata72829​ @naturalthrone22​ @husherstan​ @mandiiblanche​​ @vicmc624​ @newyorkgoddess​ @itsallyscorner​ @chipilerendi​ @emzd34 @writerwrites​​ @bluevxnus​​ @that-girl-named-alex​​ @captnrogers​​ @nsfwsebbie​​ @sarge-barnes-sir​​

[cecesunshine]

Hi!

Could you please write 7 with Axel

Thank youuu ^^

Hi, here it is! I decided to take an sad turn to the story because I didn't know how to make this fluff lmao. Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!

MASTERLIST

UNFAIR | AXEL

Summary → Axel and Scholar discover that people can be unfair to each other, even when they both love each other.

Pairing → Axel x Scholar

Warnings → Allusion to cheating but no actual cheating + doesn’t have a happy ending

Word Count → 1495

Prompts used → 7. You never had a problem with it before.

A/N → English is not my first language, so I’m sorry if there are mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense!

No matter how long Axel and Scholar had been together, there was something that was always in the back of the couple’s mind. Distance. They had been together for nearly a year now but every time they were away from each other due to Axel’s schedule. He was always at the studio, touring or busy with something else, which affected his time with his significant other.

Scholar stared at their laptop’s clock, looking at the hour. 2 am. He was going to miss their weekly video call. They sighed, running their hands through their hair. The call was scheduled for 1 am. He promised that he was going to show up. They hadn’t really spoken to each other since the beginning of the winter break.

Feeling sleepy, Scholar closed their laptop and left it at the desk.

The only thing that was going to comfort them tonight was their bed.

The next days were filled with Scholar packing their things, ready to go back to Arlington after the winter break. Somehow their room didn’t seem like it was theirs anymore, which gave Scholar more motivation to pack their things. Besides all the pressure, Arlington felt more like a home than their childhood house.

Carrying their bags downstairs so they would be all set for tomorrow, Scholar saw their father sitting on the couch with a worried look on his face. He was watching some type of gossip program, which was odd.

“Since when do you like this type of show?” Scholar said, sitting next to their father.

“Jesus kiddo, don’t scare your old man like that.” He replied, putting his hand over his chest. “I was switching channels but saw this.” He pointed at the tv, which was playing a video of Axel on a loop. “Isn’t this your...uh...boyfriend?”

The video was of Axel with his hand over a girl’s shoulder. The girl in question being Gianna Portinari, a famous Italian model. According to the show’s host, the video was taken by a fan of the show who was on vacation in Italy and saw the “couple” walking through the streets of Milan in the early morning.

Scholar quickly connected the dots. There was a six-hour difference between their city and Italy. 2 am where they lived meant 7 am in Italy. Axel ditched them so he could hang out with a girl.

Scholar ran to their room, grabbed their phone and hit call. Nothing. They called seventeen times until they were finally tired of calling. It was going straight to voicemail.

The teen felt like throwing their phone across the room, but they knew it wasn’t worth it. They would also not have money to replace it.

The day they were desperately waiting for finally arrived. It was time to go back to Arlington. The flight had gone well, as Scholar slept during the entire trip. As they landed, anxiety started to grow on them, they would have to face their boyfriend and probably the end of their relationship.

At the airport, Scholar got in a taxi that would drive them to Arlington. Car drives aren’t as relaxing when your mind can’t stop creating scenarios of how your relationship will end.

After paying the driver and taking their bags from the taxi, Scholar found themselves in front of Arlington Academy, ready to start another semester. They spotted Claire and Raquel talking near the dorms and walked to them.

“Scholar! Nice to see you again! How was the break? Did you and your dad have fun?” Raquel said warming her friend into a tight hug.

“Yeah, we had some fun. The break was normal I guess, I had time to recharge batteries.” Scholar replied trying not to sound sad.

“We saw the thing about Axel.” Claire announced. “And we’re here for you if you need us.”

“Thanks girls.” Scholar thanked their friend, wanting to end the conversation there.

The cold wind of January made Scholar hold on tight to their coat. They said goodbye to their friends and walked to their room.

The room seemed empty, as they weren’t there for a month. Scholar opened their bags, ready to unpack their clothes and put things where they belonged.

As they were going to start to put their jackets in the clothes hangers in the wardrobe, someone knocked at the door.

Opening the door, Scholar was greeted by their boyfriend, who was holding a rose bouquet.

“Hi.” Axel said, ready to enter the room.

“No.” Scholar closed the door on his face, not wanting to deal with that in the moment.

“Oh come on! Don’t be like that, corazón!” He yelled from outside, knocking at the door again.

Scholar rolled their eyes. They knew how their boyfriend was and knew that they weren’t going to give up until they had want they wanted. Scholar opened the door again and motioned for him to come in.

“First of all, thank you for letting me in.” He said, earning a bored look from his lover. “And second, I bought you this.” He gave Scholar the bouquet, not receiving the energy he was expecting. “You look nice.”

“You’re not getting out of this with flowers and compliments, Axel.” Scholar said putting the bouquet in the desk.

“What did I do now?” Axel said, massaging his temple with his fingers. “It’s about me and Gia, right?”

“Gia? God, you even have a nickname for her.”

“Scholar, baby, Gia and I are just friends.” Axel walked to his partner, who stepped back. “And why are you acting like this all of a sudden?”

“Why? Because I’m the one dating you! I shouldn’t have to compete with your supermodel flings!” Scholar screamed, grabbing their phone and searching for photos of Axel with other people. “Look! If I search Axel the suggestions are either your songs or you with other girls and guys! Axel and Gianna Portinari, Axel and Taylor Covington, Axel and Rowan Harvey, Axel and Peyton Easterling...do you want me to go on?”

“I get it, I get it, I go out with a lot of celebrities, so what? I’m not even friends with them! It’s called a publicity stunt!” Axel yelled back. “You never had a problem with it before.”

“I didn’t, but now I have! You are always seen with someone new acting all lovey dovey and…” Scholar felt their eyes get watery. “and I get jealous. You ditched our last video-call.”

“Because I was busy! I have a career, Scholar! I’m sorry can’t dedicate all of my time to you!”

“Busy walking down the streets of Milan with a supermodel? Give me a break!” Tears fell down Scholar’s cheeks, exposing their vulnerability to their significant other.

“Scholar, come on. You know that I love you. And what does it matter if I spend time with other people? I don’t kiss them, I don’t even know their names sometimes! I’m a performer, I perform to the paparazzi.” Axel himself was starting to cry.

“It’s just hard. You’re never here. I’m competing for your attention with other people all the time and I keep losing. It’s unfair.” They confessed.

“Unfair? Scholar, I always come back to you.” Axel put his hands over Scholar’s shoulders. “You don’t need to compete with anyone, I’m yours. I’ve always been, since day one.”

“You’re mine when it’s convenient to you. You’re mine when you have the time.” Scholar pushed him away gently. “It’s tiring. I can’t keep pretending that you having dates with other people doesn’t affect me, even if are just publicity stunts.”

“I’m sorry. I’m going to stop, I promise.” The words escaped Axel’s mouth almost instantly. Even himself knew he was lying. He had no control over his public relationships.

“Don’t lie to me, please don’t lie to me.” Scholar whispered, their heart beating faster and faster every minute. “I think you should leave.”

“Corazón.” Axel tried to reach for his lover, who couldn’t even look him in the eyes.

“Leave. Just leave, Axel.” Scholar muttered, not wanting to deal with him or the situation.

Axel sighed, walking towards the door. As the door closed behind him, he knew that he had lost them. He wanted to scream at them, for not understanding his side but deep down he knew Scholar was right. Axel should have thought about they felt. That didn’t matter anymore, he had already lost Scholar. He had nothing to lose now.

Scholar fell to the ground as they realized what just had happened. They wanted to blame Axel for being selfish and prioritizing his career over his lover, but if they were in his place, they would do the same. He had much to lose.

Both of them could say that they were unfair to each other, but at the end of the day, we all make sacrifices, either for our careers or for our feelings and mental health. Unfairness is part of the world, neither Axel nor Scholar could run away from it.

[wy-van-sunshine]

modern Wesper high school

Wylan

The red-haired boy opened his locker pretty annoyed, slamming the door against the metal: it was the end of the school year and, just as usual, it was time to prepare for the school prom, probably the most important event to students.

Wylan hated it from the deepest of his heart: he had never been popular and no one had ever asked him to go together. What he hated even more was to see all the happy couples around him and some guys who found the courage to ask their love interest out.

Why had none of that ever happened to him in four years? Yes, he was openly gay and he was a little bit shy, but he wasn’t that bad after all, was he? He knew in his school there were other guys interested in men like he was, so why was he never considered a choice?

With his cheeks red with anger, he threw some books in his locker to put an end to that day and go home already; before closing the door, though, he saw a paper falling down from it: before he could catch it, a girl (whom he hated from the deepest of his heart) next to him took it and opened it: “Hey sunshine, want to go to the prom with me?” She looked at him raising her brows, a stupid smile curving her mouth “Oooh, Van Eck has a date! I wonder who could make such a poor choice”

Wylan rolled his eyes and took the note from that hideous bitch who never gave him a break. When she finally walked away, he focused on those words he couldn’t really read and his eyes suddenly widened: wait, had he just been asked out? Him?

Wylan was incredulous: that couldn’t be true, there had to be some kind of mistake. Wrong locker, maybe? He’d never been called “sunshine” before, so that message was definitely not for him.

He raised his gaze and scanned the hallway, looking for someone staring at him, maybe waiting for his reaction: but the only eyes he met were those of the captain of the football team, and he definitely couldn’t be his secret admirer.

Jesper

What he did was crazy and rushed, but that was just Jesper: everything he did was instinct. He carried the football team on his shoulders and all a good captain could do was to always trust his heart, no matter what.

He had spotted a beautiful mess of red curls during his first science class at the beginning of the year, and he’d been obsessed with that smart guy ever since: he didn’t talk much, but when he answered to the professor everything about the way he talked was hypnothic to Jesper - his soft, shaky tone, all those difficult scientific words, everything.

Even though Jesper was very friendly with everyone, he had never found the right moment to approach that curious boy: he was always alone, but every time he looked so focused on his drawings, lost in his thoughts, and Jesper just didn’t feel allowed to enter his world.

But he had to put an end to it: after talking to his dearest friend Inej about his matters of heart, the girl had suggested that he ask the red-haired guy out at the prom. He’d liked the idea.

He didn’t know his name - damn his lack of any focus during the science lessons, no wonder he had terrible grades - so he decided to call him by the spontaneous nickname he’d found after the first week: sunshine, because that guy with his curls and his smile shone like no one else.

He was now looking at him from the distance, curious to see his reaction to his note: when their eyes met, Jesper noticed the guy’s cheeks were much pinker and he chuckled, in complete awe for such softness.

Inej next to him smiled and punched him on the shoulder: “Looking flirty already?”

Jesper did nothning but laugh, keeping his focus on the handsome boy across the hall.

Wylan

All his surprise for the note disappeared when he saw the captain and his friend laugh while looking at him: suddenly, Wylan felt so stupid.

Of course no one wanted to go out with him, had he really believed any of that were true?

He lowered his gaze and only then did he remember he was wearing a green jumper: oh God, not only did he feel stupid, he was actually looking stupid. He remembered his father’s words every time he wore that colour: “Green with your red hair? You’re going to look like a Christmas elf. What’s next, a bell bracelet?”

No wonder the captain and his friend were laughing at him, now: they’d tricked him with a fake love note and they’d found him with that ridiculous outfit. He wouldn’t be surprised if they even knew he couldn’t actually read.

The joke turned out even better than expected.

Wylan felt tears filling his eyes and, before he could do anything about it, they were falling down on his cheeks. He had only a few seconds to see the captain’s expression change before he turned and ran away, far from all that shit he couldn’t take anymore.

Jesper

What had happened?

Jesper was standing petrified, all his excitement gone. He was confused and also a little bit crushed because he’d never seen tears wet that beautiful face before.

“I don’t understand” he whispered, turning to Inej to look for some answers.

“I don’t know what happened” said the girl, perplexed just the same “But I do feel like this is a good moment for you to be there for him. You say he’s always alone, and I don’t know who wants to be alone while crying”

Jesper nodded and gave Inej a rapid kiss on the cheek before leaving her in order to follow the red curls running away from him. It wasn’t hard, after all he was an athlete, so he could easily keep the guy’s pace. He followed him until he entered the music room: Jesper took a few moments to be surprised about it, but then he approached the door to join him and hopefully talk to him.

He found him seated at the piano, playing a furious yet wonderful melody on the keys.

Narrator

Wylan could express his feelings mostly through music, so that was the first thing he looked for after the pain he’d felt that day: he was liberating his frustration, telling his secrets to the only one who would listen.

He felt observed, but he didn’t care: whoever was annoyed by how loud he was playing could make peace with it already, he wasn’t going to stop.

“Hey, sorry to interrupt”

Wylan froze: he knew that voice. He’d watched some games at his school and the captain’s voice was always the loudest, the clearest.

Why had he followed him? Wasn’t he happy enough with how he had made fun of him?

“Leave me alone” whispered Wylan, his voice still rough “Please”

Jesper cleared his throat and stepped forward: “I’d like to sit next to you, actually. May I?”

“You may not”

The captain chuckled: “Um... okay, I’ll stand here then. I’m Jesper Fahey, nice to meet you”

The red-haired guy sighed: “What do you want? You’ve already humiliated me beyond imagination, what else do you need?”

Jesper opened his mouth, schocked and speechless: he had humiliated him? How was it possible? He hadn’t done literally anything apart from writing him a note that was everything but humiliating. What was the redhead talking about?

“I... what?”

Wylan laughed, tears filling his eyes again:  “Oh please, please don’t play fool with me. Asking the poor loser out fot the prom? Very funny, yes, I’m sure you had a heartfelt laugh with your friends”

Jesper tried to reply, but Wylan went on, his cheeks newly red and wet: “You know, I knew I was stupid, but not as much as to believe someone like you could actually be interested in me. Stupid Wylan, you idiot. Father’s so right about you, you’re such a delusion”

“Hey-”

“And you also found me wearing this stupid green jumper and- you know what, I’m taking this off. I’m already a loser to you, so what changes?”

Jesper put a hand on Wylan’s arm and stopped him, trying to look at him in the eyes.

“Wylan - did I understand right? - Wylan, stop for a second. What the hell are you talking about? And why shouldn’t you wear that jumper? I...” the captain laughed nervously “I am honestly so confused, but please listen to me”

The redhead froze at the sudden warmth of the captain’s hand on his arm: he dried his cheeks with his sleeve and sighed: “Just be fast, I really can’t do this today”

The captain cleared his throat: “I don’t know what you’re talking about, but I think there’s been a huge misunderstanding” he smiled at Wylan “I really want to go to the prom with you”

Wylan’s eyes widened, his breath catched: was he serious?

“Is that so?”

Jesper laughed: “I’ve already asked you twice in less than an hour, what do you want, a formal request?”

“I...” the redhead was speechless, his mind was starting to ache trying to understand how any of that were possible. He was probably dreaming.

The captain pointed his hand to the free space next to Wylan: “While you take this life-changing decision, may I sit?”

Wylan gave him the faintest smile: “Yeah”

The captain sat and the redhead held his breath for some seconds: Jesper’s arm was muscled and strong against his thin one, his profile looked like a sculpture, his lips were the most perfect shape he’d ever seen, his skin was a beautiful light brown similar to that cappuccino he loved so much. When Wylan found the ability to breath again, the captain’s fresh scent made him drunk.

He was going to lose his mind, so he made his eyes look away before he did anything stupid.

Jesper felt Wylan’s tension through his arm against his, so he placed a hand on the piano and played a random key: “I’ve always been astonished by the power of this instrument, but I don’t think I’ll ever understand how to play it” he turned his head to Wylan “You were playing beautifully, I would’ve listened to you for hours”

Wylan shrugged: “It wasn’t a great performance, I was just letting some bad feelings out. I can do better. Besides, that’s not even my main instrument”

“Oh?” now Jesper was surprised: just how great could this guy’s talents be?

The redhead smiled and scrolled his head: “No, I play the flute. But here at school I can only use the piano, hygienic stuff, you know. I... I really needed to play some music just to feel better”

Jesper nodded: “Did you feel bad because of the note I left in your locker?”

“Well...” Wylan sighed “Kind of. It’s not your fault, though: at first I was surprised, then I saw you and you friend laugh and I panicked. I thought it was all just a mockery”

“Why would you think that?” asked the captain raising a brow.

Wylan laughed: “Are you kidding? You’re, like, the most popular person in the entire school, how could I believe you were actually asking me out?”

He wasn’t going to mention his dyslexia too. He didn’t want to ruin the moment. Besides, he was starting to think Jesper didn’t actually know about it.

“Well, for starters I should inform you that you’re very cute and that you shouldn’t blush for me saying that” Jesper restrained a smile looking at those pale cheeks get the darkest shade of red “And you should also know that Inej and I were laughing because we were so excited to see your reaction. I’ve had you stuck in my head for a while now, you know”

“You... you have?” Wylan could simply not believe it. There wasn’t any logic in any of that. 

Yet, it was happening.

“Yeah”

“So... so is everything true? You really want to go out with me, of all guys?”

“Oh Christ, you’re a tough one, aren’t you?” asked Jesper rolling his eyes. He stood up, just to get down on one knee and take Wylan’s hands in his “Please, Wylan, for the last time, will you go to this godforsaken prom with me?”

The redhead laughed, incredulous, but at the same time trusting towards that handsome guy kneeling if front of him: “I think I will”

“Oh my- can’t you just say yes, for my heart’s sake?”

“Okay, yes! Yes I will!” conceded Wylan, now laughing so hard he couldn’t even remember he’d been crying just a few minutes before.

“Thank God. This was the toughest task of my life so far”

Jesper sat back next to Wylan, smiling and feeling wonderfully. The redhead looked at him for a while, then cleared his throat: “Would you mind if I...” he hesitated, unsure if he could already go that far.

“If you what?”

Wylan lowered his eyes and whispered: “... if I hugged you?”

Jesper smiled as he whispered back a faint “come here”, circling Wylan’s shoulders with his arm, pulling him towards his body and placing his other hand between his incredibly soft curls. They both closed their eyes, feeling well, in the right place.

“By the way” whispered Jesper, not moving the tiniest inch from their hug “I have no idea why you talked about your jumper, but for the record I think green looks wonderful on you”

Wylan smiled against the captain’s chest: “You do?”

“Yes. It makes your eyes and your hair look even more beautiful. As a matter of fact, you should wear green more often”

In response, Wylan held tighter to Jesper’s body: “I will, then”

[hopelesshawks]

History of Us Part 17- Family Dinner

Summary: Once upon a time Todoroki and (y/n) were best friends. Now they haven’t spoken in years. When (y/n) is forced to transfer to UA, will she and Shoto reconnect or will their troubled past keep them apart? A childhood friends to enemies to lovers hybrid fic.

If you don’t want to see History of Us content blacklist #hopelesshou

Masterlist Kofi

You frown down at the mysterious text from the unknown number. Something about it gave you an uneasy feeling but you brush it aside for now. You have other things to focus on. Other things like the fact that the way to Shoto’s house is looking awfully familiar. “Do you still live in our old neighborhood?” you ask suddenly as you and Shoto walk side by side. “Yes. Different house but same neighborhood, why?” he asks. “This is where we moved back to,” you explain, “my house is down that way.” “In that case do you want to invite your mom as well?” Shoto asks but you shake your head. “She’s working a shift right now. Maybe next time?” you offer. “Next time,” Shoto replies with a soft smile.

Something warm blooms in his chest at your mention of a next time. He’d missed you over the years certainly, but he didn’t realize just how much until he finally had you back. You’re different now, sure, but so is he. Neither of you are the children you once were and yet reconnecting had been as natural as anything else. The two of you had slipped back into a rhythm as if no time had passed and he was forever grateful for that. He watched your face as the two of you walk, your eyes lit up with a combination of nerves and excitement, and he has a flickering thought that you look absolutely beautiful that way. “Is there something on my face?” you ask suddenly. “What?” he asks, blinking at you in confusion. “You’re staring Sho,” you laugh. “Oh! Sorry,” he says, a light flush dusting his cheeks as he sharply turns his gaze away. “It’s fine! It’s still weird being friends again for me too,” you assure him. “Yes... Yes you’re right, that’s it,” Shoto says, more to himself than you, as you finally arrive at his house.

Shoto pushes open the door, calling out to let the family know he’s arrived. Rei comes from the kitchen, wiping her hands off on a dish rag, but stops in her tracks when she spots you. You freeze in place as you wait to see how she’ll react. You haven’t seen her since her hospitalization. There are more wrinkles at the corners of her eyes then the last time you saw her and you hope it’s from smiling more since she was released after the Dabi incident. You start to see tears gathering in the corners of her eyes but before you can apologize for upsetting her, she’s striding forward to pull you into a hug. It takes you a second to process what’s happening but then you eagerly return the hug, clutching her tightly to you. Her hand strokes over your hair gently a couple times before she pulls back to look at you properly. “You’ve gotten so big! And your performance at the sports festival was truly incredible,” she compliments you. “Ah thank you,” you reply sheepishly. “Come in, come in. How’s your mother doing? I’ve missed her,” Rei asks as she ushers you through to the dining room. “She’s doing well! Work keeps her busy most of the time though,” you respond.

Shoto trails behind, watching fondly as his mother fawns over you. He stops in the kitchen to say hi to his sister who is attending to the food still cooking. “You brought a new friend home instead of Midoriya and Bakugo,” she notes. “Not a new friend, look closer,” Shoto corrects as he leans against the counter next to his sister. She stops what she’s doing to take a closer look at you, eyes widening in disbelief after a moment. “Is that-“ “Yep.” “I thought you said she hated you.” “We made up at the sports festival.” “I’m happy for you,” Fuyumi smiles. “Thank you,” Shoto replies as his eyes wander back to where his mother continues to chatter away with you at the kitchen table. He startles slightly as a hand claps him on the shoulder, turning to find Natsuo has finally arrived. “Been a minute baby bro. The living nightmare hasn’t arrived yet has he?” Natsuo asks casually. “Blissfully no, although I doubt that will last much longer,” Shoto acknowledges. “Will you two play nice? Shoto brought a guest,” Fuyumi chides. “Oh dumpster fire mentioned that, is it not the usual two?” Natsuo asks curiously. “Nope,” Shoto replies. “It’s sweet little (y/n). Remember her?” Fuyumi exclaims. “Ah she’s a little different than you remember,” Shoto chuckles but before he can elaborate Rei is returning to shoo all of her children into the dining room while she finishes up.

It’s nice talking to the Todoroki siblings and catching up. You’d never really known Natsuo and Fuyumi growing up so you appreciate getting the opportunity to now. You’d even managed not to get too outlandish as you joked around with them, your self-proclaimed gremlin nature laying dormant. At least until Endeavor finally returned home. None of you heard the front door open, too wrapped up in your conversation. He walks into the room and although he’s initially happy to see his family laughing and talking together, his eyes narrow as he spots you. “What are you doing here?” he asks, standing to his full height. “Shoto did you hear that? Sounds like a little bitch talking,” you snap instinctively, as you turn to glare at the new arrival. Everyone but Shoto and Endeavor look surprised. “Shoto I was under the impression you’d be bringing a friend along,” Endeavor replies through gritted teeth. “I did bring a friend,” Shoto replies easily. “You said she hated you,” Endeavor fires back. “Past tense! We settled our differences through the only language you and my father taught us. Violence,” you cut in, grin a little feral. “Do not lump me in with that villain,” Endeavor all but growls. “But that was your training buddy,” Shoto refutes with a straight face. “I do recall you two proclaiming you’d die for each other on multiple occasions,” you taunt. “Ah yes, everyone knows best friends who abuse children together, stay together,” Shoto adds. Fuyumi and Rei watch on stunned as Natsuo barely suppresses his surprised laughter at you and Shoto’s comments. “I, at least, am trying to be better,” Endeavor snaps. “Try harder,” you and Shoto both say at the exact same time. Endeavor looks as if he’s about to growl out another response but Rei is swiftly out of her seat to put a placating hand on Endeavor’s chest. “Ok, ok, let’s call a truce. Enji you go get changed out of your work uniform and then we can all just sit down for a nice meal,” Rei proposes. Endeavor mutters something under his breath but agrees none the less before storming off to go get changed. “Ok, petition for (y/n) to replace dad at all family functions?” Natsuo grins. “Natsuo,” Rei chides gently. “I second the petition,” Shoto replies, causing you to cackle. The fondly exasperated look on Rei’s face makes dealing with Endeavor worth it.

The dinner goes surprisingly smoothly even with Endeavor there. He seems far less intimidating when he’s not in his hero costume, which only further enables you and Shoto’s belligerence any time the man dares make his displeasure with your presence known. You can’t imagine why you were worried about them accepting you. The entire night is suffused with a warmth you’ve missed. You love your mother but the past several years have been difficult for her. To suddenly be solely responsible for supporting both of you financially all while dealing with the stigma of her husband’s reputation has meant work is twice as hard and keeps her twice as busy as it did when you were younger. You had missed having Mrs. Todoroki to lean on and in many ways she feels like a second mother to you. Not to mention finally getting to interact properly with Natsuo and Fuyumi. When dinner is finished, Endeavor and Rei are the ones to clear up the plates and begin cleaning up the kitchen. You keep talking with Fuyumi, Natsuo, and Shoto for awhile before you finally decide to get up and grab some water from the kitchen. You excuse yourself from the table and head that direction, but just before you enter the other room you notice Rei and Enji speaking in hushed voices to each other. Curiosity drives you closer and you decide to hover on the other side of the doorway and eavesdrop.

“I thought you and Shoto were making progress. What happened?” Rei asks with concern as Endeavor scrubs away at a dish. “That girl happened,” Endeavor replies. “That girl has a name,” Rei says warningly. “Yes she does. It’s (Y/l/n) and I seem to be the only one who remembers that fact,” Enji retorts. “You cannot judge her by the sins of her father.” “She was there Rei. He brought her for a reason.” “Yes, just as you took Touya out to the woods that day for a reason. Just because you have a certain intent doesn’t mean your children will share it. You should know better than anyone that being related to a villain doesn’t make someone one.” “I’m just trying to protect Shoto from the betrayal and pain I felt. I don’t want her hurting him.” “I know but whether she’s going to hurt him or not, that’s a mistake he’ll have to make himself.”

You try not to flinch at Rei’s words. You’re used to people doubting your intentions because of your father but to hear it from Rei stings. You’d expected her to insist you’d never hurt Shoto. You decide you don’t want to hear anymore and head back to the dining room, water glass still empty. “I thought you went to grab water,” Fuyumi points out as you return. “Oh, I ended up drinking it on the way back over here and I’m too lazy to go refill it again,” you lie. She and Natsuo seem to accept the lie easily, resuming the conversation they’d been having, but Shoto gives you a concerned look. He scans your face as if he could ascertain what’s wrong if he looked hard enough. He catches your eye and mouths “what’s wrong?” but you simply shake your head and give him what you hope is a reassuring smile.

Eventually it’s time for you and Shoto to head back to the dorms. You swallow down your hurt as you hug Rei goodbye and then say your goodbyes to the other Todoroki siblings. Endeavor hovers in the doorway out of obligation, saying his goodbyes to Shoto before staring at you warily. “Good seeing you too, fuckface,” you tell him with a roll of your eyes. You count Shoto’s amused smile as a win. As the two of you start walking to the train that will take you back towards campus, part of you worries that Shoto will grill you on what’s wrong now that the two of you are alone. He looks somewhat deep in thought as the two of you walk and you brace yourself for the question you’re not prepared to answer as he finally opens his mouth. “Want to have another movie night tonight?” he finally asks. You blink at him in confusion for a moment as the words process. When you fully realize he’s not pressuring you to tell him what’s wrong, relief washes over you like a wave. “That sounds perfect,” you sigh, some of the tension leaving your body on the exhale. “Great,” Shoto affirms and when the two of you make eye contact you know he understands how you’re feeling perfectly. The two of you continue on your way in companionable silence and, not for the first time, you find yourself incredibly grateful to have Shoto by your side again.

A/N: I live for Shoto and (y/n) roasting Endeavor tbh. Also Rei only phrased things the way she did because she was trying to appeal to Endeavor and didn’t think the kids would hear her. This is why you shouldn’t eavesdrop 🥲 Anyway, next chapter we’ll finally find out what exactly happened when (y/n) was 8 and why her father is so hated.

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[sylvie-writes]

❅ Christmas Gala ❅

❅ pairing: ransom drysdale x reader 

❅ prompt: “Out of all the seats, and you willingly choose the one beside me? Should I be concerned?” @/coffin-prompts

❅ summary: ransom has a plus one to take to the gala, so he decides to extend the invitation to his assistant. it’s nothing more than business, right?

❅ warnings: slight age-gap, a few curse words and that’s about it.

❅ word count: 2,424

❅ author’s note: i know i have a lot of requests to write, but i needed to get the gears turning if that makes any sense. i’m trying to test the waters here. once again, i’m not going to be cranking out fics every week, but here’s me shooting my shot. the story may seem slow in the beginning, but it will pick up, i promise!

(gif below is not mine, nor do i take credit for it) 

***please excuse any mistakes***

December 24th, the night of the annual Christmas Eve Gala. Every year, prestigious and wealthy families were invited to the charity event held at the Center for the Arts in Boston. Among those who were invited, were the Thrombeys and Drysdales. Your boss, Ransom, also happened to be invited to the event and for some unusual reason, he decided to extend the invitation to you as the invite included a plus one. 

A knock on the door of your apartment distracted your thoughts from your focused typing. Standing from your seat at the table, you curiously made your way to the front. You hadn’t invited anyone over and rarely did you receive solicitors. 

Taking no time, you opened the door to be greeted by an older man, holding a gorgeous red midi dress hanging inside of a plastic dry clean bag. With furrowed brows, you quickly shot your eyes to the tag on the man’s uniform. The name of the local dry cleaner embroidered onto the pocket. 

“Delivery for (y/n)?”

Nodding uneasily you reached forward and took the dress from the smiling man who left as soon as the dress was in your hold. You held the hanger with one hand and with the other dug to see the ticket along with the Michael Kors tag. 

You only knew one person who would do such a thing, and reading the name on the receipt confirmed your suspicions.

Ransom.

There was an hour and a half till Ransom would be here to pick you up. Honestly, before you were surprised with the dress, you were contemplating not going altogether. Diligently, you finished up Ransom’s schedule for the week and shut off your laptop, running to go and get ready. 

The person staring back at you in the mirror made even you swoon. Ransom had surprised you once again by having selected the correct size for you. A flattering sweetheart neckline fell comfortably on your chest as the off the shoulder sleeves hugged you just enough to where they didn’t slide. You ran your hands over the sides of your body, smoothing the dress out. Bringing your gaze down to your feet, you stepped forward to sleep your feet into the heels in front of you. Taking one last check in the mirror, you were satisfied with the look and decided to once more head to the front door. 

Searching through the small coat closet, you rummaged through the many jackets, eventually finding your most prized possession. Practically brand new, you slipped on the tan trench coat that you had bought with your first real paycheck a few years back. Right out of college, you hopped onto this job and for the past five years, you’ve worked for Ransom. The pay was good and you couldn’t complain. 

To some, this trench coat wouldn’t be anything, but to you, it was the most expensive thing you owned as it was also the first designer piece of clothing you had ever owned and purchased. Once the jacket covered your shoulders, a knock sounded on the door. With Ransom’s usual impeccable timing, you correctly assumed it was him as it was exactly 8 o’clock on the dot. 

You opened the door to see the man out of his usual sweater and slacks, but instead wearing a suit and tie, making your mouth water. Apparently he felt the same way as Ransom’s jaw slightly hinged opened and you giggled. Taking two fingers and gently pushing it back up.

“You’re staring, boss.”

Ransom shook his head and muttered out a quick “right.”

He held out an arm for you and you latched on, the two of you heading for his car. 

Arriving, you were met with Joni’s “friendly” shriek of your name. Linda paid no mind to your entrance and her scowl made you cower into Ransom’s hold. He reassuringly squeezed your arm and walked even closer to the family. In his usual cold manner, Ransom greeted his mother and then turned his attention to his father who was currently arguing with Walt. How all of them managed to piggyback onto the perks of having the Thrombey name, you’ll never know. 

As Ransom fueled his father and uncle’s argument, you wandered off to Meg who gave you a small smile. Currently, she was trying to get Jacob to talk, but he was too invested into whatever was playing on his phone. 

With a defeated sigh you went back to Ransom, running to him like a little mindless sheep. As much as you hated it, leeching onto Ransom around was the only thing to do since you felt so out of place at this event.

For what felt like a good hour, you were on your feet and unknowingly becoming Ransom’s arm candy. You both had made your way from the family and to the crowd. Filled with unease, you downed more flutes of champagne than you could count. All you knew is that jaws were moving and yet you didn’t hear or care to listen to a single word. 

At some point even Ransom had somehow managed to ditch you and with no one else to run to, you eventually found your way into the theater. The usher politely showed you around to a seat even though they were not assigned. You plopped down into the seat, taking off those awful heels seeing as no one else was in the theater. 

You sat in the empty space for what must have been a good half hour. Save for your phone, you were extremely bored and most of all tired, already fighting your eyelids that were heavily falling. At some point, chatter fell upon your ears and you quickly blinked the sleep out of your eyes. 

A few rows over, you could spot Linda and Richard, and then as you turned your head the other way, the rest of the clan was in sight. They all came from different directions, but ultimately ended up sitting behind you. Your eyes sifted through the crowd, although there was no sign of Ransom.

You had expected he’d be off with someone by now, but for some reason a small part of you had been expecting him to stay with you. A sad sigh left your lips and you then delicately crossed your legs over each other, leaning back in the chair. If Ransom was going to leave you all alone, you might as well enjoy the free show and hell, enjoy yourself. After all, it was once in a blue moon that you got all dolled up like this and truly had a good time. 

As much as Ransom acted like he didn’t care about you, you both knew that was the complete opposite. The little things he did allowed you to see that. Sometimes he would order you your favorite meal, or make you a cup of coffee for when you arrived at his house. As for tonight, Ransom knew how much you enjoyed plays and dances, hence why he invited you. In Ransom’s own way, that’s how he showed his love, through money and such. The man was raised that way which gave him the idea that this was the only way to love. Your heart ached for him as he didn’t know that there was more to love than money. Honestly, sometimes you did try to show him that, with sweet hugs and such. Like a grumpy old man, he’d grumble and try to push you off of him, but he really didn’t try hard enough. Just like a few hours ago, when he had let you hang off of his arm, which was a sign that Ransom was slowly easing into the whole idea.

The doors to the theater were harshly shut and the sound bounced off the walls, grabbing your attention. You lifted your head to scan around the room for Ransom’s face one last time when a hand grasped onto your shoulder.

“Looking for me, sweetheart?”

A cheeky grin was on the man’s luscious lips and it took everything in you to not lean forward and kiss away said grin. Instead, you just crossed your arms over your chest and scoffed with faux annoyance. Ransom threw his arm around your shoulders and brought his fingers up to the side of your face. With gentle strokes using the very tips of his soft fingers, Ransom brushed some hair behind your ear. Trying not to be bothered by his actions, you decided to speak up. 

“Out of all the seats, and you willingly choose the one beside me? Should I be concerned?”

As the lights go down and the show begins, you see Ransom shake his head with a slight smirk. As he does so, he lowers his hand from your hair and starts lightly tracing shapes on your bare shoulder. 

“I’m offended you’d think such a thing, (y/n). Can I not just sit with my lovely assistant who I love so much?”

Ransom was whispering in your ear at this point, but you could still hear the playfulness in his voice. A quiet laugh fell from your lips and you just shook your head disapprovingly.

“No, not after you ditched her in the lobby.”

Before Ransom can apologize, the show begins and your attention is now drawn towards the beautiful opening number. 

The show goes on, and you grow sleepy. It’s not that you weren’t enjoying the performances, no they were captivating, but you were just exhausted and definitely not one wired for these high strung events. You were tired from just merely pretending to be friendly and kind around these people. They had barely turned an eye to you since your last name wasn’t from an affluent family and you surely didn’t have a silver spoon resting on your lips. Especially with the title of “Ransom’s assistant” virtually floating over your head, the people you had met could have cared less if you were instead a dog on a leash. 

Ransom still had his arm wrapped around your shoulder and his dancing fingers were lulling you to sleep. With a soft yawn, you riskily laid your head on Ransom’s own inviting shoulder. He smiled sweetly at your trust and turned his head to place a delicate kiss on the crown of your head. Although the other Thrombeys surrounded you both, Ransom didn’t care. As far as he was concerned, their heads were too far up their asses for them to even notice your interaction with the man.

You hummed in content and snuggled a bit into his side. 

Once the show ended, Ransom gently shook you awake before anyone could see you had fallen asleep. He rose from his seat first and held out his hands for you. Sleepily, you placed them in his as the man helped you from your own seat. Unfortunately, the row of seats you were sitting in was long and you had sat smack dab in the middle, meaning you’d be standing a long while. At the moment, your back was turned towards Ransom. His radiating warmth made you more susceptible to the cold air of the room as it hit your once warm skin. Ransom noticed your chilly shaking as you ran your hands over your arms in a desperate attempt to warm yourself. Wasting no time, the man hurriedly shed off his jacket and draped it over your shoulders since your back was facing him. He placed his hands on your now-covered shoulders and leaned down to quickly kiss the base of your neck. Just as you were about to turn and face him, the line before you started to move, leaving you no time to do so.

Eventually you made it back into the lobby, where neither you or Ransom decided to speak up about the events that had just occurred. He hastily grabbed your hand and led you to the family where you had assumed you’d be socializing once more. With your free hand, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes, accidentally smearing your makeup and internally groaning as you did so. You were about to let Ransom know you were heading off to fix your makeup when instead you heard the man bidding goodbye to the family. 

“Ransom, where are we going?”

The man walked with determination and pulled you along with him, the two of you showing up at the coat check. The attendant reached over the counter as Ransom took the two jackets from the young man. He turned towards you and simply responded, “We are going home.”

You cocked your head to the side, confused as you thought he’d still want to socialize a bit. The night was still young as Joni liked to say and she said way more than you liked, too.

“I thought you’d want to hang out a bit more, Ransom?”

He continued walking out the door, but still held up his end of the conversation.

“I saw how tired you were and figured we should head out before it got any later.”

Stopping dead in your tracks and right outside of the building, you turned to the man with an unreadable expression. The freezing night wind hit your face like needles, yet you still stood in your place.

“Seriously? If that’s the case I could have just taken an Uber, you know. I’m not here to be a pain in your ass.”

Ransom shook his head and you looked up at him with squinted and suspicious eyes.

“You could never be a pain in my ass. Especially with all of the things you do for me.” The man looked down on you now. His eyes meeting your own. 

“First off, I would not have you ride in an Uber this late,” bringing his hand to your chin, he continued, “and second, this is what you do when you love someone… right?”

He looked almost sheepish now and you had to refrain from making some cutesy expression at his adorable face. Proud of his realization, you excitedly nodded and with great confidence, pressed your lips to his. 

Ransom brought his hands to your waist and pulled you even closer as if he could lose you by not doing so. The two of you then leaned away after some time, small and sweet smiles on both of your faces. Ransom held his hand out for you, leading you to the car and eventually to his house, where you’d spend your first night together enjoying precious time spent in each other’s company. 

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[gothamphantomgoat]

[unecoccinellenoire]

Hi! I don’t know if you’re still doing the prompts but could I suggest maybe an au of Freaky Friday where maybe it was Nathalie and Gabriel that swapped please?

Nathalie and Gabriel?

Now that would be a mess. But maybe actually one I can work with so let have a speedrun of that scenario 

Gabriel stared up at his own face, “Why would it be an akuma?”

“I don’t know,” Nathalie hissed back at him, and from the disgruntlement that passed over her face when she spoke she was as thrown at how weird she sounded as him as he was, “but there aren’t exactly many other sources of random magical powers in Paris are there?”

“There’s Ladybug.”

“This doesn't fit in with any of the Miraculous we know about.”

“Well it wasn't an akuma.”

“What was it then?”

“Us!” Duusu trilled suddenly appearing from wherever the Kwami had been.

“Duusu,” Nooroo whimpered from behind his head, and really what was it about Nathalie’s hair that made it a magnet for Kwami’s.

Though his irritation gave way to anger as he realised, “wait, was this you?”

Then a knock at the door froze all of them, “Father? Um, I haven't seen Nathalie this morning so I'm just going to go to school.”

He opened his mouth to talk but Nathalie spoke first calling out to the door, “She's not feeling well. She’ll email you your schedule later.”

……......

“An act of selfless love?” Nathalie said, “Alright. I can work with that, Duusu spread my feathers.”

He couldn’t help but be distracted by the sight of himself blue and pink-eyed, and reached out to his face as if to check it was real. He wasn't sure the hair was a fantastic look but at least, “I'm thankful I'm not in your dress. I don’t think I’d pull it off.”

Nathalie flushed, and looked down, “I hadn’t even really thought. We’ll have to thank Duusu I guess.”

“I think you contributed,” he ran his eye over the tailcoat and slim trousers, “I can see Mayura in it. And your elegance.”

“My,” she blinked, “Thank you sir.”

“So what's your plan then?”

“The same as it's always been.”

“We can't make waste the Wish on fixing this,” and if they were using their original plan then as distracting as the image of Emilie and Nathalie together was, he could hardly just explain to his wife than he and his assistant had switched bodies and expect her to be ok with that, “we need it for Emilie.”

“I know,” Nathalie said, “which is why we get Ladybug and Chat Noir’s Miraculous, and then I make the wish to sacrifice myself for Emilie. That should work shouldn’t it? I know it wouldn’t be completely selfless but,”

“What?” The room felt suffocating and hot, and he thought he might faint and he hoped this wasn’t what Nathalie felt like all the time because of damage from the Peacock Miraculous. “That’s, how, what about that wouldn’t be selfless.”

“I wouldn’t be in pain.” Nathalie said, and didn’t seem to realise how her words felt like stab wounds, “and you’d be the one dealing with all the mess afterward; explaining my death, explaining it all to Emilie, explaining it all to Adrien. And I’d know you were happy and I wouldn’t have to,” she stopped herself, “it doesn’t matter. I think it would still work.”

“We’re not doing that. I’m not killing you because our blasted Kwamis have betrayed us.”

“We are forcing them to work against their natures.”

“You really think Duusu has a problem with what we’re doing?” He should have seen Nooroo’s treachery coming but Duusu’s did surprise him.

“No,” she exhaled, “I don’t think that’s where Duusu’s actions are coming from. Duusu has a,” she bit her lip in thought, “different way of looking at the world. I wouldn’t advise asking for my kwami’s reasons. But it doesn’t matter. This doesn’t change anything.”

She looked as if what she meant was obvious when it very much was not. “It does. This was never the plan.”

“I thought you were willing to do anything for her?”

“Not that.” He pressed his fingers to his temples, “Nathalie if I was willing to throw your life away I’d have commanded you to wear that Miraculous from day one. I have never wanted to hurt you, and I can’t lose you too, you’re the only thing that gets me through each day.”

“You wouldn’t be losing me too, you’d have her back.”

“It’s too heavy a price,” Nathalie was, she was his friend and his certainty and he didn’t know how he could look himself in the mirror, could look Emilie in the eyes, if he killed her, “We not doing that.”

“It wouldn’t work anyway,” Nooroo said, “it has to be the elder of you that performs the selfless act of love.”

He’d never seen what horror looked like on his own face, and even blue it was his own face, until that moment.

…......

“I’ve got it,” Gabriel reached forward and pulled the Miraculous off her, “You’re never using this again.”

He waited for this nightmare to be over, but apart from her transformation falling from him-as-Mayura to him-as-himself nothing happened.

It should have worked. He’d put Nathalie ahead of his goals. Ahead of Emilie. Shouldn’t that have solved the whole thing?

“You’re said that before sir,” Nathalie said.

If he wasn’t in her body, and overly aware of how he could damage it, then he’d have punched a wall. Stupid past him screwing it up for all of them. And he’d always known letting Nathalie use that Miraculous was a mistake.

……….

“We’re probably going to have to get dressed at some point,” Nathalie said, looking as if she’d stepped in something distasteful, “you’ve a zoom meeting later. I guess it’s lucky we were swapped with each other, so we can keep the business going.”

Lucky was not what Gabriel would call the situation at all especially when, “I can’t just undress you.”

She was his assistant. It was wrong for him to know what she looked like under her clothes in any more exactness than her measurements. And the longer he was in her body the harder it was going to be not to ever look.

His body must have blushed more today than it ever had before, as Nathalie said, “Maybe just. Don’t shower today.”

“I wasn’t going to,” otherwise he’d actually be touching her and that was wrong wrong wrong, “I will try and respect your privacy Nathalie.”

“I know you would,” she said looking at him with a trust he wasn’t sure he’d earnt, “you dress models all the time, this isn’t any different. OK, I admit I’m not model but I trust you to be professional about this.”

“You’re pretty enough to model,”

She blinked, “I don’t think I can agree but thank you. And, I’ll do my best to give you your privacy too.”

“I never expected otherwise,” Nathalie was always professional, “I know I can trust you.”

“Thank you sir,” she said before a look of sheer horror crossed her face, “oh god, I’m going to have to go to the loo as you.”

He felt a funny warmth in his stomach. “We’ll have to fix this quickly then.”

“Yes,” said Nathalie but she didn’t look any more convinced than before.

………

“I’ve another idea,” he said, and reached up to cup his own face, and tried to ignore how disconcerting the whole situation was he pressed his lips to hers or his depending on how one considered it.

Nathalie pulled away immediately, stumbling a few steps back, “What on earth was that?”

From the look of her she seemed to think he had some weird obsession with himself so he rushed to clarify. “I thought, you know, it worked for the heroes before to break the effects of akumas?”

“Sir,” she was speaking to him very slowly like he was a child, and it sounded more condescending in his own voice, “You’re not in love with me. So that wouldn’t work.”

Her dismissal of him yet again annoyed him. He was going to fix this. And he was going to get Nathalie’s respect back.

…………

“I’m going to Adrien’s fencing match,” Nathalie announced.

“What? Why?”

“I promised him I would. It’s in the schedule.”

“For Nathalie.”

“I cleared yours too sir. You can come with us if you want.”

“I need to work out how to solve this not waste time placating Adrien. You go if you want.”

“I will.”

As he watched Adrien’s joyful smile on seeing what he thought was his father he realised uncomfortably that Adrien hadn’t smiled like that at him in he didn’t know how long.

Perhaps he could spare Adrien some more time.

……….

“I’ve come to a decision,” Gabriel announced.

“Yes?” Nathalie asked with a raised eyebrow, “Have you found a way to fix this sir?”

“What? No. I’m going to invent a better bra. I never realised it but there’s so many issues with current designs, the straps keep falling down, and the underwire is uncomfortable and,”

“Have you somehow got it on wrong? It’s never bothered me.”

“How would I have got it on wrong? I’m not stupid.” Although admittedly Nathalie probably adjusted herself more than Gabriel felt comfortable doing with his assistant’s body.

Nathalie frowned, and he almost mirrored her, he hadn’t realised he always looked this severe. “Maybe you just have a lower discomfort threshold than me sir.”

“That does seem to be the case yes,” because he’s struggling to get through the door past the aches and exhaustion that Nathalie has apparently been lying about not feeling.

…………

“I just don’t know what we’re going to do Nathalie,” he said as he relaxed back against her after she caught him after another coughing fit. He’d always felt utterly insufficient for what he could do for her afterwards and no seeing it he felt almost more so.

“We’ll fix this somehow sir,” she said, “I’m sorry it was me. I know if it had been Adrien or someone else you cared for this would have been much easier.”

He turned around, “What are you talking about? I can’t see how that would be easier at all.”

Because there was an obvious thing he could do to fix this at least and he couldn’t think what would be obvious in Adrien’s case.

Not that he could do the obvious thing so knowing it didn’t really help but….

…………..

Because he can’t pretend the toll this is taking on her isn’t obvious now. Not when he’s the one feeling it.

And the thing is. It’s not all the Peacock Miraculous either. If either of them could break this spell then Nathalie would have already done it a hundred times over.

She’s ready to lay down her life for him. She’s already risked her health and her freedom. This isn’t her job.

This is him being unfair.

And he’s never cared much for fairness. After all. Life isn’t. But it feels different with Nathalie. It rankles. He doesn’t want to be the one hurting her.

……………

“Are you going to send out an akuma sir?” Nathalie asked.

He shook his head, “Not like this.”

……………

He reached out to Emilie’s coffin and tried to ignore how much higher it was.

“I’m sorry Em,” he said, “I think I might be a very selfish man. Can you forgive me?”

Are you alive?

Is this a betrayal?

Or is it just recognising reality?

…………

“Adrien,” he said and his son looks up with worry for whatever Nathalie’s going to say he’s forgotten but there’s affection too, and there’s nothing he can say actually. Not as Nathalie. Not when he knows the opinions on the matter he’s wrongly allowed his son to have. “Don’t worry.”

Though if he does this then it’s not so wrongly.

………..

He still doesn’t like Adrien’s friends but as Nathalie he sees them more often and as he sees how his son changes as he sees how he becomes more like Emilie at her very best he has to revaluate some of the choices they’re made, and whether they’ve been stifling certain talents of Adrien’s.

………..

Nathalie didn’t say anything when he sees him transformed, but her eyes say it all.

“I thought it was quite striking,” he said of the Butterfly wing dress, wrapped around her body he was wearing.

“No,” she said, “it is sir, I’m just not sure it looks very suitable for fighting.”

“It’s not.” He agreed, but I’m not planning to fight. Give me your Miraculous Nathalie. I’m going to akumatise myself again.”

“With both of them?”

“No,” he laughed, “but I’ll want it after and I don’t want to fight you.”

“Sir,” Nathalie asked, “What are you doing?”

“Trust me.”

And she does.

………..

He felt it the moment the spell breaks. True his akumatised form is androgynous compared to his transformation under the Butterfly Miraculous’ powers but he’d known it has changed nonetheless.

And then Ladybug purified his akuma and he could see it has.

“M.Agreste?” Ladybug asked, “How did you get Hawk Moth and Mayura’s Miraculous?”

“I don’t know,” he said giving thanks for the effects of his akumas, “I don’t remember anything.”

Chat Noir was looking at him oddly, “did you fight Hawk Moth?”

“I think,” he said deciding he could afford this much to avoid the embarrassment of apparently losing to himself, “this was what Hawk Moth wanted me to do.”

……….

Nathalie greeted him at the door, “Are you alright?”

“Never better.” He confirmed.

She pulled him in shutting the door behind him, “You gave up.”

“I did.”

“It fixed us.”

“It did.”

“Then,” she still looked shell-shocked, “that means, you gave up for me?”

“It wasn’t entirely selfless,” he said, “I’m rather glad it worked despite that but Nooroo thought it would. But, I’m not sure I’m ready to confront what all of that means. Not while Emilie’s still,”

“I’ll be here when you are,” she said with a grounding clasp of her hand around his arm.

[panda-noosh]

odd one out {draco malfoy x reader}

Words: 11.3k

Summary: You’re known as the only Weasley without magic. Draco Malfoy has always taken great pleasure in teasing you for this, and you have always been ready with a retort. Your bickering with the Malfoy boy has gone on for years, but is it all done in bad blood?

Notes: support my writing or ask me about commissions! - i can’t stop writing for Harry Potter and that’s really just what you’re all gonna have to put up with. 

---

 You don’t want to be here.

   You don’t belong here, as you’ve been reminded a grand number of times throughout your seventeen years of living. To these people, you are nothing more than the unlucky one, a mistake. To these people, you are weaker.

    The halls of Hogwarts aren’t exactly unfamiliar to you, despite being the only person in your household who never properly attended. You’ve been here many times throughout your life, visiting sick family members, accompanying your parents when they don’t trust you enough to leave you at the Burrow. 

    It’s your twin brother, Ron, who is in need now.

    When you walk into the infirmary, he’s sitting up. Your mother squeals, throwing herself forward, wrapping her arms around his neck as you and your dad approach in a slow and careful manner, not wanting to startle Ron any more than Molly has already managed.

    But even as you walk in and scowl at him, you can’t deny the relief that floods your system; the owl sent by McGonagall hadn’t even been fully read before Molly was slamming it down on the table, gathering her robes and telling you to get ready to leave. You had been busy doing your own school work, tucked away in the room you share with Ron during holidays, but was now barren besides your stuff.

   He had been poisoned, according to your father. Nobody knows how, or by what, or by whom - just that Ron had drank something given to him by Professor Slughorn and had immediately started foaming at the mouth. 

    Now, however, he looks in good enough health that you don’t see it as a problem when you slip your hair tie from your wrist and flick it at him from across the room. He yells, flinching so fast he nearly takes Mum’s head off as she clings onto his neck.

    Mum spins, glaring at you. “He’s ill!”

   “He’s fine,” you reply, slipping onto the seat next to his bed. “How have you managed to poison yourself, then?”

   Ron scowls. “I didn’t poison myself. Someone else did.”

   “Who pays enough attention to you to want you dead?”

    “Y/N!” Mum hisses. “At least give it a minute before you both start bickering.”

  You and Ron roll your identical eyes before Ron sighs, letting his head fall back against the pillow. “None of you should be here. You know that, right? With all the stuff going on with You-Know-Who-”

    Dad waves a dismissive hand. “We won’t let something like that keep us from making sure you’re okay.”

  You raise your hand. “I personally said I wasn’t prepared to die just for you, but-”

  “Y/N!”

    But looking down at Ron, you see him smiling; you smile back. You know all too well the kind of boredom he must be feeling right now, all alone in the medical suite with nothing but his thoughts and Madame Pomfrey keeping him company. You remember all those Christmas’s when he would come home and tell you to be quiet when you complained about how lonely the house gets with everyone gone - now he knows how it feels.

    Mum and Dad move on, telling Ron about how Bill sends his condolences and how the twins will be popping in soon to see him; you sit back, gazing around the room. Although you can use none of the stuff hung around you - in fact, it would most likely kill you if you tried - you know exactly what each piece of equipment does and how it is used. You reach out and gently twiddle the lid on a jar of unicorn hairs.

    The door to the medical suite opens. You glance over your shoulder just as Madame Pomfrey peeks her head through the curtain, a grand smile on her rounded face.

   A grand smile that falters as soon as she sees you.

   This happens all the time; it’s one of the reasons you don’t like being inside Hogwarts if you can help it. You’re known by name amongst most of the staff, and none of them dislike you nor discriminate against you in any way - but they’re weird around you. They never know what to say, are never certain how much you understand compared to everyone else in your family. 

    “Molly, Arthur, Y/N!” Madame Pomfrey exclaims. “Minerva told me you’d all arrived a little earlier than expected.”

    She shoots you yet another glance, giving you an uncomfortable smile. “You’ve grown so much since I last saw you, Y/N. How is the - uh - studying going?”

    Muggle studies. She wants to say Muggle studies.

   “Good,” you reply, already standing up. “I’m just gonna go to the loo a quick minute. Give you more room to work around Ronald here.”

   Ron reaches for your hand. “Don’t leave me with-”

   “Get well soon!”

   You duck out of the medical suite and into the hallways, immediately pressing your fingertips to your temples; you hate it here, hate it so much, have never felt so out of place than you do right now, and it doesn’t even make sense. You know just as much - if not more - than some of the people in this god damn school. Just because you were never able to perform any of the hocus pocus bullshit they’re able to perform doesn’t mean you don’t know what you’re talking about. You grew up around it. You lived it - still live it.

    You sigh and start down the hallways. You aren’t even sure where you’re going - you just know you’re not heading in the direction of the bathrooms. You pass a few people on the way, people who don’t know who you are or what you are, people who see you within the walls of Hogwarts and don’t even consider that you might not have the same abilities as them.

     You smile; it might be your last chance to exchange niceties with them before they realise who you are and start avoiding you.

    You turn down into another set of corridors, these ones empty as everyone filters into separate classrooms. They look quite spooky when deserted, unnaturally clean with the brick walls encasing you; you run your fingers along them, mind wandering to what it would be like to be within these hallways every single day for ten months out of the year. 

     A ghost swooshes over your head. You close your eyes, letting out an exasperated breath, preparing yourself for the inevitable-

    “The Squib Weasley! The Squib Weasley!”

    “Afternoon, Peeves. How are you?”

    “All the merrier for seeing you!”

  “Oh, yes. You always do enjoy taking the mick out of me.”

    He swoops down and bunks your head; it doesn’t hurt too much, considering he’s a ghost, so all you do is glare at him as he kicks off the wall and bounces back up to the ceiling.

    “Do a magic trick, Squib! I want to see a magic trick!” The ghost cackles, the bells on his hat jingling. “What about a nice card trick? They’re popular amongst non-wizard folk.” A storm of playing cards suddenly rain down upon you, and Peeves laughs even harder.

    This is the kind of treatment you fully expect from Peeves. You look down at the puddle of cards, kicking them as you say, “I’m afraid I’m not that skilled. I can’t do any tricks, I’m afraid.”

   “Useless Squib Weasley!” He bonks you on the head again. You growl, jumping up and swiping at his foot, but he merely kicks away from you, laughing even louder. “Useless Squib Weasley! Useless Squib Weasley!”

   “Get out of here, you idiotic little corpse!”

    Your head snaps round, blood draining from your face at the sound of that voice; you know it all too well, of course, considering it’s coming from a person you would much rather avoid.

     Peeves cackles in your face one final time before vaulting down the corridor. His laughter only echoes so far before you and Draco Malfoy are left in complete silence, the only sound being his polished black shoes clicking against the marble floor as he walks towards you.

    You look up at the ceiling, squeezing your eyes closed. “Malfoy.”

   “Weasley.” He stops. Opening one eye, you can see he’s stopped directly beside you, hands tucked casually into the pockets of his robes, a smirk on his face. “What brings you here? I know it’s not the magic.”

    “How did you figure that one out?”

    “Just a hunch.”

   “Mm.” You look at him. “I was visiting Ron, if you must know. Not that it’s any of your business, of course.”

    “One thing I never understood about you was how you can have such an attitude with someone like me.”

  You raise a brow, pretending you have no idea what he’s talking about. “Someone like you?”

   He pulls his wand from his pocket and twirls it, casually, between his fingers. “A wizard.”

    He says it like he’s talking to someone who has never heard the word before. He’s smirking like he’s expecting you to gasp and say “Wizard?!” He’s acting like you haven’t heard the exact same comment a thousand times before.

    You nod slowly, watching his wand rotate. “Are you gonna try and hex me or something? Pretty cowardly of you, Malfoy, considering I have no way to defend myself.”

    His smile fades into his customary scowl; he tucks his wand back into his robes, instead choosing to intertwine his hands behind his back. “You shouldn't be walking the hallways on your own, Weasley. Security measures have been heightened since the Dark Lord came back.”

  “So I’ve heard,” you reply. The casual tone to your voice makes Draco’s eye twitch; you take a point for yourself in this silent competition the two of you have going on. “I felt like I was the safest one, considering Voldy-mort isn’t really interested in Squibs, is he?”

    “That’s not the point; I can’t just be letting outsiders walk about.”

   “I’m not an outsider. Dumbley-dore knows me just-”

  “Stop with the stupid names-”

    You lean forward, speaking louder just to annoy him. “Albus Dumbley-dore knows me just as well as he knows you. In fact, he probably knows me better considering he’s taught the majority of my family. How many Malfoys has he taught? Two? How many Malfoys has he liked? Zero.”

    Draco glares. You smile, enjoying how easy it is to wind him up. He probably approached you thinking you would find his mere presence intimidating; he couldn’t have been more wrong.

    “Well,” he drawls, straightening up. “I’ll be letting Professor Snape know of your presence, and the attitude you’ve taken with me. I’ll let him handle it.”

   “Oh, Snape! Goodness, it’s been a while since I last saw his ugly mug. Let him know my parents and I will be staying in the Hogs Head for a few days if he wants to pop in for a chat.”

    Draco growls, turns on his heel and stomps back the way he came; your laughter follows him, uncontrollable. It’s one of the few things you enjoy here at Hogwarts - seeing Draco, winding him up. You will never understand why he continues to approach you every single time you come and visit. He knows nothing he can say will affect you, as you grew up with five older brothers and a younger sister with an attitude - you’ve heard it all a hundred times before. 

  ----

    “See, this is so much more fun than Scrabble.”

   You scowl, glaring down at the chess board. The moving pieces seem to have something against you. No matter how hard you concentrate, or which direction you direct your little white pieces to go, you never seem to be getting any closer to winning this game.

    “Concentrate, Y/N,” Ron urges. He’s been laughing at you for the past hour and a half. “Where does your bishop need to be?”

    “If you don’t shut your mouth, I’ll be directing my bishop right up your-”

   “Y/N Weasley, enough of that!”

   You jerk upright, sending the chess pieces scattering. The curtain is pushed open, revealing your mum, dad and Professor Burbage. Mum stands with a scowl on her face whilst Professor Burbage and Dad chat animatedly to one another, barely even registering the people around them.

    “Honestly, who taught you to talk like that?” Mum grumbles, bustling over to Ron. She places the back of her hand against his head and scowls. “Your temperature is going up again, sweetie. Have you been drinking the potion Madame Pomfrey gave you?”

   “Yes,” Ron grumbles, swatting Mum’s hand away. “It’s just warm in here. She never lets us open the bloody windows, Mum. It’s like I’m in prison!”

    But Molly isn’t paying attention; after checking up on Ron, her attention snaps immediately to you. You meet her gaze and raise a questioning brow, freezing in your seat. It’s never good when Molly Weasley has her eyes on you.

    “You alright, Mum?” you ask cautiously.

    “Professor Burbage wanted to talk to you, dear,” she replies, and your heart instantly dips into your stomach,

   Your head snaps round to where Burbage and Arthur are stood; they’ve stopped their animated chatter now, Arthur with one arm around Burbage’s shoulders whilst pointing at you with the other. 

     “This is Y/N!” Arthur exclaims. “Our little Muggle-expert. Honestly, Charity, I’ve worked in Muggle Artefacts for ten years, but I’ve not learned half as much from them as I have from our Y/N here.”

     Your face flushes. “Dad.”

   “Oh, don’t be humble, dear!” Molly exclaims, gripping your shoulders. “We were just telling Professor Burbage here all about your little solo trip to London a few months back, how you navigated the trains perfectly - ordered their own food and everything!”

   Ron snickers. You slap his arm.

    Burbage looks at you. Her eyes look tired, strained, her hairline thin and hair itself even thinner. Her nimble fingers are twisted in front of her, and she says nothing as she continues staring at you.

    You glance at Molly, desperate for a bit of help, but Molly isn’t looking back. She continues massaging your shoulders as she says, “Of course, we don’t let any of them out on their own anymore - not with everything going on, but goodness, we were just so proud of Y/N when she came back in one piece. Apparently the train took an hour and a half to get from London to Birmingham! How bizarre is that?”

    “Oh, Molly, dear,” Arthur tuts. “How many times have I told you that Muggle transportation isn’t the same as wizard transportation?” He shakes his head, turning to Burbage. “I’ve told her a thousand times, I really-”

    Professor Burbage lurches forward and grabs your hand. You gasp, stumbling off your chair as she vigorously shakes it, nearly ripping your arm from its socket. Behind you, Ron has stopped snickering and is instead watching the scene unfold, clearly uncertain about what is actually happening.

    “Y/N Weasley,” Burbage says, voice barely above a whisper. “It’s an honour to meet you finally. I taught all of your brothers, so I did - all except Ronald, who apparently isn’t interested in Muggle Studies.”

    Molly sighs. “We told him-”

  “You didn’t tell me anything!” Ron exclaims. 

    Burbage ignores them both. “I know you’re no Muggle, of course - it would be insulting to say you are - but I did always find Squibs most interesting characters. They’ve got one foot in wizard life, one foot in the Muggle life. It really must be an experience, shifting between two very different worlds.”

    “Uh….”

   “Go on, Y/N,” Arthur urges. “Tell her about London. Tell her about the. . . the - What was it called? The peasant?”

  “The pheasant, Dad. It was a pheasant.”

   “Oh!” Burbage cries suddenly, making you flinch back. “I’ve heard of those! Birds, are they not? Quite ugly little things, but very big. Very big for birds…” She trails off, muttering to herself. The entire time, her hand remains firm in your own, refusing to let it go as if in fear of you running away from this seemingly important conversation.

    All you want to do is run away.

   “Anyway,” Professor Burbage bursts, “I’ve just come in to ask if you’d like to attend my next lesson for a few minutes. I’ve got a N.E.W.T. class coming in and I know for a fact having someone like you involved in their learning would do them a world of good.”

    Oh goodness, no. 

   The answer is immediate. The mere idea of standing up in front of a classroom of wizards to walk them through how you were the one genetic failure in the family is enough to make your stomach turn. You open your mouth to express this, but Arthur jumps forward before you have a chance.

    “That would be an honour, Charity. An honour for Y/N and the family!”

    Your eyes widen. “Actually-”

   “Wonderful!” Burbage exclaims, grabbing your arm again. She wrenches you out of Molly’s grip, already ushering you out of the infirmary, the sound of Ron’s uncertain grumbles following you out. At least your brother can see how uncomfortable this idea makes you, but his chunterings don’t make any difference.

   “Professor,” you beg, stumbling after her as she leads you through the crowded hallways. “Professor, I really don’t have anything to say to your N.E.W.T. students or whatever. I’ve been to London on my own once, and it really didn’t go as smooth as my dad is making it out to be. I nearly got mugged, like, four times, and there was this guy with a knife-”

     “Here we are!” 

    You glance over; lining up against the wall is a group of seventeen year olds, all of whom are staring at you in a mix of confusion and amusement. Some of these people know exactly who you are, considering they’re in the same year as Ron, whilst others merely see a very distressed individual dressed in casual robes.

    “Good afternoon, class,” Burbage begins, refusing to let you go into her classroom or to let go of your arm. “I hope we’re all well. Please enter, and take your books out.” 

   The line of students files into the class, and you and Burbage follow close behind. Your heart is racing, eyes flicking back and forth along the students currently scooping textbooks and wands out of their bags, whispering amongst themselves. Burbage’s classroom is decorated with moving pictures of Muggle buses and trains, Muggle supermarkets and schools - all of which you probably know less about than anyone else in this classroom.

    Burbage pushes you towards a seat in the corner, kindly telling you to make yourself comfortable. You give her your best smile and sink into the plastic, crossing one knee over the other, resisting the urge to bury your head in your hands. Every eye is on you. Every single one.

     You bite your lip and look around, and that’s when you spot him.

   Of all people in Hogwarts, you never once would have expected to see Draco Malfoy unpacking a Muggle Studies textbook. The boy from a family of Muggle haters. The boy who spends every waking moment ensuring every non-pure-blood wizard in his vicinity is completely miserable is stood in a Muggle Studies classroom.

    “Malfoy?”

   His name bursts from your lips before you can stop yourself. You slap a hand across your mouth, turning to Burbage with an apologetic look that she raises her brows at, but refuses to comment on. Instead, she barrels on with the lesson.

    You glance back at Malfoy, who is now staring at you with an open mouth; he’s going to laugh at you. Seeing you sat in the corner is going to bring him such amusement. You can already hear the jeers he’s probably going to throw at you as soon as this bell rings, how he’s going to make your life a living hell for the short period of time you’ll be here.

    “Okay everyone, now that we’re settled, I’d like to introduce you all to a special guest who has so kindly offered to overlook our lesson today,” Burbage says after her introductions. 

    “Actually, Professor, I’d rather-”

   “This is Y/N Weasley, one of the few Squibs I’ve had the honour of meeting.”

   The class goes silent. You bite your lip, ducking your head into your hands before anyone can see the horror that is currently rising to the surface - you want to scream. 

    “Y/N’s parents were just telling me a few minutes ago that Y/N went into Muggle London - remember our last few lessons on Muggle London? - all on their own! Isn’t that incredible?”

    “Terrifying,” Malfoy jeers. “What a hero!”

   You grit your teeth - it’s started.

   “Exactly what I was thinking, Draco! What an honour it is to be in the presence of such a brave soul.”

    You look up through a slit in your fingers, giving Professor Burbage a pleading look, a silent plea for her to just stop, to just get on with whatever lesson she had planned while you sit in the corner and mind your own god damn business.

    But she just smiles brightly. “Tell me, Y/N - how did the Muggle’s react to having a Squib walking amongst them?”

    You lift your head, purposefully avoiding a glance at Malfoy; even without looking at him, his snickers are unmistakable. “They didn’t know I’m a Squib, Professor. I just looked like a normal person.”

    Burbage’s eyes widen. “Really? They couldn’t even tell?”

   “But Squibs are so obvious,” someone jeers from the far side of the classroom - looking over, you’re pretty certain you recognise the man as Zacharias Smith, someone Ron has always taken a disliking to, but only because Hermione threatened to go out with him one time. “Could they not feel the uselessness coming off you?”

    You scowl. “Have you been paying attention in Muggle Studies at all? Squibs don’t give off a bloody scent, you dumb little-”

    “But I thought Muggle’s dress differently to us,” a girl in the front row interjects, raising her hand pointlessly.

   “They do, dear,” Burbage replies. “They tend to wear. . . shorter clothes. No robes. Correct, Y/N?”

   “Uh, yeah.”

   “So how were you not recognised as a Squib?”

    “I wore Muggle clothes-”

  “Your older brother told me Muggle clothes can make a wizards skin burn-”

  “Y/N isn’t a wizard, you idiot. They’re a Squib-”

  “They’re the same thing!”

   “No, Squib’s don’t have magic, wizards do.”

   “Don’t talk to me like I’m stupid, Gregg, or I swear-”

   “Alright, class, enough!” Burbage exclaims, but it’s too late for that now. Questions are being fired at you from all directions, questions that seem most innocent to the oblivious but which actually cut pretty deep into the thick skin you possess.

    The word Squib in itself doesn’t sit right with you - you’ve never identified as a wizard nor a Muggle, but there’s something about that word that just puts a bad taste in your mouth. Maybe it’s the way it’s spoken by others - like an insult, a sneer rather than a simple term. Maybe it’s the implications it holds - here is a person who comes from a family of people who can basically do whatever they want. Here is a person who comes from a family seen as mystical, but they are not the same. They were not blessed in the same way even though all odds were saying they should have been.

    You swallow thickly, glancing over at Malfoy for a reason you cannot pinpoint - it’s not like he's a source of comfort. It’s not like he will be any different than the ignorant wizards currently yelling question after question at you. Nonetheless, your eyes find his, and it’s with a jolt that you realise he’s staring right at you with an almost worried expression on his face. A tilt to his head, brows furrowed, lips pursed. 

     You don’t know why you do it. You mouth the word help in his direction, and immediately he stands.

   “Everyone shut up!” he hisses. “Giving me a bloody headache!”

   The class fades into silence. Malfoy grunts, sits back down and ushers for Professor Burbage to continue the lesson, which she does with only mild hesitance. It’s clear she now realises that bringing you here today was perhaps not thoroughly thought through, but you don’t make a move to leave. You sit in the corner of the classroom as she goes through the lesson plan, keeping your head ducked in an attempt to ignore the stares.

   Once the lesson plan has been explained, Professor Burbage tells the class to get on with their work before she says, “Y/N will be walking around to help anyone who needs it.”

    You roll your eyes; will wizards ever get the hint?

   You push yourself up from your chair and start your rounds of the classroom, ignoring anyone who actually asks for your assistance. At this point, you just want the lesson to be over so you can head back to the infirmary and play Ron in a game of Scrabble - you’re much better at Scrabble than he is, and winning a few rounds will boost your dignity after those horrific chess games you played earlier.

    “Excuse me, can you help me with question-”

  “Piss off.”

     “That’s not very nice, Weasley.”

   You stop dead. “What do you want, Malfoy?”

  “I need help with question three - as I just asked.”

   You scowl, glancing at him over your shoulder. He’s smirking, twirling his pen between his fingers in a way not unlike how he had twirled his wand only a few hours prior. You take a few steps back and glance down at his work.

    “‘What mode of transport should a Muggle use if they want to move a sofa from one place to another?’” you recite. “Oh, come on, Malfoy. You’re not that thick.”

    “Just give me the answer.”

  “No. You’ll never learn if I just hand it to you.”

    He scowls, kicking your shin beneath the table. “Are you alright?”

   The sudden subject change nearly gives you whiplash, though it’s not nearly as shocking as the soft note his voice has suddenly undertaken. Your gaze snaps to him, an eyebrow raising. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

    “You asked me for help literally two seconds ago. Don’t think I’ve forgotten.”

    “I’m fine. Just - uh - a little shy when I'm the centre of attention.”

   “A Weasley, not liking attention? That’s a first.”

   You flick his ear. Malfoy grunts, swats your hand away before saying, “Why did you agree to come here?”

    “I didn’t agree to anything.” Before you can think better of it, you tug the stool out from beside Malfoy and sit down, leaning over in an attempt to look like you’re just helping him with his work. “She came into the infirmary with my parents and basically dragged me in here - you know how my dad is with all that Muggle stuff. He wouldn’t let me say no.”

    Malfoy snickers, pretending to write something down. “Is it true you wore Muggle clothes?”

   “Don’t start….”

   He raises a hand in mock surrender, that stupid grin forming on his face. “I wasn’t going to say anything. I heard - what is it? - Adidas? I heard they’re very comfortable-”

    “You’re taking the mick out of me,” you hiss, slapping his arm. He bursts into laughter, and the noise seems to startle even him, as he immediately slaps a hand over his mouth, face turning bright red.

    “I hope it’s just Muggle Studies we’re discussing over there, Draco!” Burbage calls.

   Draco scowls, slowly lowering his hand before he glances at you and says, “I hate this bleeding class.”

    “Mm, I gathered that. Never took you as the type to be interested in what Muggle’s get up to.”

   “I’m not, but it’s an easy N.E.W.T.”

   “That’s what they all say.” You nudge his elbow. “Just admit it, Malfoy; you’re interested in Muggle activities.”

    “Shut up, Weasley, or I won’t help you out of your next ambush.”

    You snicker, pushing away from the table. “There won’t be another ambush. I’m not stepping foot back in this classroom if I can help it.”

   “That’s what I said during my O.W.L’s, and now look where I am.”

    “See, this is when my Muggle education comes in handy; no need for crappy lessons like this.” You clap him on the shoulder. “I’ll see you around, Malfoy. Have fun learning about vans.” You tap question three on his paper. “V-A-N. You’re welcome.”

  ----

Hogsmeade is a good place to be for a Squib.

    Magic isn’t necessarily expected. You can walk through the streets and nobody will be under any illusion that you’re different. It’s freeing, a rare experience when you spend half your life either not fitting in amongst wizards, or not fitting in amongst Muggles. There is no in between for you.

    Today, Arthur and Molly permitted you and Ron some time to go into Hogsmeade together before you and your parents are due to depart to the Burrow again, where you will grudgingly continue your Muggle classes, steeping in your own boredom. 

    The streets would be considered empty if not for the abundance of Ministry officials littering the area; they stand outside every shop, talking to passers-by, warning them of the danger they are in by simply being outside. Kingsley Shacklebolt - a good friend of yours - gives you and Ron a stern look when you pass him standing outside Olivander’s. 

    “I thought Molly and Arthur would know better,” he says. “You two should be inside at all times.”

  “It’s like the Order wants us to go insane,” Ron mutters when the two of you are walking away from what was undoubtedly about to turn into a proper scolding. “Honestly, what are the chances You-Know-Who is just going to turn up in the middle of Hogsmeade? I’m pretty sure I heard somewhere he doesn’t like the Saturday crowds...”

   You and Ron continue to shop for a little while, though none of the stores particularly interest you. You love looking at the architecture and the fancy colours of each shop, but when you can’t really use any of the stuff being sold, the architecture isn’t enough to keep your attention seized.

  Nonetheless, you trail after Ron because this may be the last time you are able to see him until Christmas, and you’ll be damned if you let your last few days of company go to waste. The colour is back in his face, that tiny sway to his walk returning now that the poison has officially cleared his system; though you will never admit it to him, the worry you felt sitting at his bedside these past few days has been eating you alive. To see him back on his feet and grinning again is like Christmas come early.

     “Oh!” He latches onto your arm, snapping you from your daze. You follow the direction in which he is pointing, throwing your head back to groan into the air when you catch a glimpse of Quality Quidditch Supplies, Ron’s favourite place in the whole of Hogsmeade.

    “Oh, come on!” Ron exclaims, dragging your protesting form forward. “Just a little look to see if they’ve got anything new in.”

  “Why would they have anything new in?” you hiss, pressing a foot against the door frame in your attempts to make Ron let go of you. “The Quidditch season started months ago! Everyone’s already got everything they-”

    “Don’t make me hex you!”

   You groan, letting your foot slip to the floor. Ron tugs you into the shop after him, a bright smile on his face as soon as he lays eyes upon the Quidditch sets propped up on the far side of the shop. He scurries off, leaving you to awkwardly pluck at the bits and bobs that - apparently - have something to do with Quidditch. Growing up, you always found the concept of Quidditch to be quite intriguing. Charlie would never let a single family dinner go by without ranting about some team or other, and you were always inclined to listen. 

   However, you were never able to properly play. The only way you could ever fly a broom was when one of your older brothers would get it off the ground first before placing you upon it - which never really had the same effect, and has left you in many bad states over the years. Your mum put a ban on it when you were seven years old, though that never stopped Charlie Weasley from letting you have a go on his broom every now and then.

    You glance over at the broomsticks as the memories pop into your head; they are magnificent looking. It’s with hesitance that you stalk over to them, running your fingers along the bristles at the end, imagining the magic seeping from your fingertips into the broom, watching it lift off the floor purely because you wished it to, because you want it to fly and nobody else. 

    You don’t even crave an expensive one, not like Harry’s, or Ron’s new one that he got when he was made a Prefect. You just want one - any of them would do, as long as they work, as long as it’s yours.

   But that will never be the case.

    You bite your lip and look down; this always happens. You’ve been able to push past these feelings of uselessness pretty well during this Hogwarts visit, but they push to the surface now. 

     “Oi! Weasley!”

    You stumble away from the brooms, very nearly knocking over a display case filled with different Quaffles as you do so. Draco laughs, wading towards you with that long-legged stroll of his, and that stupid smile plastered all the way across his face. Him catching you ogling the broomsticks, knowing full well you can’t actually use one, is really the thing that tops off this already quite disastrous trip.

    “What are you doing out of the castle?” you ask quickly, struggling to stop the display case from wobbling.

      “I’m a Prefect. I can do what I want.”

   “And you want to stand here and take the mick out of me, I suppose?”

   Draco raises a brow, glancing behind you to where the broomsticks are mounted on the wall by invisible bonds. He looks back down at you, tilts his head and says, “Feeling a bit envious today, Weasley?”

    You roll your eyes, hands still messing with the display case. “I really don’t - for the love of - I really don’t have the - Oh, my goodness, can you just use a spell and straighten this bloody thing?”

   Draco laughs, but does as you say. With a flick of his wand, the display case stops wobbling and you can safely lower your hands to your sides. 

    “Thanks,” you grumble. “As I was saying, I really don’t have the time to sit here and listen to you go on about your fancy spells. Mum wants me and Ron back at the castle in about half an hour, so-”

  “Oh, plenty of time!” And before you can pull away, Draco has wrapped an arm round your shoulders and is steering you back towards the wall of broomsticks. With his wand outstretched, he points to each one, uttering their names into your ear like a teacher giving a student a tour. 

    His breath tickles your neck, and you’re not sure why you’re so aware of it. His fingers are cold against the tiny bit of shoulder peaking from your robes, and again, it’s startling how aware of his touch you are.

    “Have you ever flown one of these before?” he asks, after telling you what each one is called - this is information you already know, of course, considering you grew up in a household of Quidditch fanatics, but you let him ramble on anyway.

    “No,” you reply. “Well, not on my own. My brothers had to get the broom off the ground for me and then I would ride around on it for awhile until the magic wore off and I - uh - landed.”

    Draco hums. “I didn’t know that was possible.”

   “Yeah. It is. It’s just stupid, and painful.” You shrug Draco’s arm off your shoulder and spin. “Quite like this conversation. Can I leave yet?”

  Draco raises a brow; it’s that facial expression that always gets to you, no matter how many times you’ve seen it. You and Draco have watched each other grow up in tiny little bursts - you came to visit Hogwarts multiple times within the school year, and every single time, you somehow managed to have some sort of run-in with Draco. The two of you have bickered with one another from day one, but this facial expression is one that has always, always made you want to punch him.

    “I’ll walk you back to the castle,” he says. He turns on his heel and starts walking before you have a chance to decline his offer. You splutter, frantically scanning the shop for any sign of your twin brother - it’s when you spot him talking to Seamus Finnigan that you groan and decide to give in to your fate. You have to jog to keep up with Malfoy.

    “I know the way back,” you say, stumbling over your robes. 

   “I’m sure you do. That doesn’t mean I can’t accompany you.”

  ���I really don’t think I should be leaving without telling Ron first…”

  “Ronald will handle the journey back perfectly fine on his own.” Malfoy glances back at you. “Plus, I don’t think Ron would like to hear what I have to ask you. It’s probably best we’re on our own.”

  You falter, heart skipping. You don’t like the sound of those words, especially coming from someone as unpredictable as Malfoy. 

   You raise a brow, ignoring the way he smirks as he turns back, giving a passing group of third year girls a nod. 

   “Don’t look so worried, Weasley. The wand is staying beneath the cloak.”

  “It’s not the wand I’m wary of.”

   His smirk turns into a grin. “I was going to ask you if you’d fancy a trip to the Quidditch pitches later tonight.”

    You stare at the back of his head as if doing so will somehow unravel the joke he’s clearly trying to pull right now. He doesn’t turn, doesn’t correct himself, doesn’t even snicker, though you can’t miss the way in which he stuffs his hands in the pockets of his robes. 

    “Sorry,” you reply sometime after. “I just. . . Can you repeat that?”

  He groans. “It really isn’t a difficult question.” He looks over. “And it’s not a date, either. I just thought you might appreciate a little bit of flying time on the pitches before you leave.”

    Is this Draco Malfoy being nice? If you weren’t currently witnessing it first hand, you wouldn’t believe it to be possible. You pick up your pace a tiny bit, just until you’re walking directly beside him when you say, “I can’t fly a broom, and you know that.”

    “You just told me your brothers used to help you; I can get it off the ground, and then you take it from there.”

    “And you don’t mind me using your broom? You’re not scared I’m going to break it?”

   Draco shrugs. “I have more than enough Galleons to pay for a new one, Weasley, don’t worry.”

   “I wasn’t worried,” you mumble. “But I - uh - I guess I could do that. It doesn’t sound too bad.”

   Draco glances down at you. “I’ll meet you at the pitches at nine o’clock then.”

    “Nine o’clock it is.”

    ---

    You have to tell your parents you’re going to visit Ron.

   They’ll never let you leave otherwise, not with Voldemort still breathing. Honestly, you can’t even blame them for the protective pull they’ve put on you, though you also can’t help but notice just how much stronger it is over you than it is for Ron - your twin brother had been in the infirmary after being poisoned only a few days prior, and yet they let him roam about Hogsmeade as much as he wants.

     “You know it’s probably Ron they’ll go after before they come after me,” you recall telling them over dinner one night. Your mother hadn’t even looked up from her food, though you saw her jaw twitch with the idea you had just implanted in her head. “He’s the one that’s best mates with Harry.”

  “You and Harry are also good friends,” your dad says, pointing his fork at you. 

   “Right, but not - like - best friends.”

   “Y/N, we’re not discussing this over dinner,” Molly had snapped. “You’ll do as we say, and that’s final!”

   Now you feel like you have no choice but to lie.

    You inform your parents that Ron has asked for your company during his next study session in which he wants you to check over his essay and correct any spelling and punctuation he’s messed up on; a lie, of course, but Ron’s genuine lack of skill when it comes to basic spelling and grammar is an easy enough lie to ride upon. Your parents immediately permit you to leave, kissing you goodbye before sending you off to the castle under the moonlight.

    The Quidditch pitches themselves are magnificent when it’s dark.

    You’ve never been to a proper Hogwarts Quidditch match; you went to the Quidditch World Cup with your family a few summers ago, but you’ve always wanted to see Ron or Harry play.

   Or Malfoy.

    The rings stand tall, glittering gold in the darkness. The lights from the commentator’s stand have been kept on, and it’s almost as if night time doesn’t exist. You can see everything perfectly; the audience stands, the rings, the soft grass you are currently walking across to reach the very centre of the field where Draco Malfoy stands, his broom at his side, his robes fitting him perfectly.

     He gives you a smile when he sees you. “I thought you’d gotten lost. Navigating around this place without magic can be a real pain.”

    “As I’m so often reminded.” You nod to his broom. “A Nimbus 2001. Not bad.”

    Draco shrugs, though his smirk is evident. “It’s carried me well.”

   “Is that why you’ve never caught the Snitch?”

   He scowls at you. “Do you want to fly it or not?”

   You slowly reach a hand out, gently brushing your fingertips along the wood. It really is pretty - you can already imagine Ron’s face when you tell him that you somehow managed to have a go on a real Nimbus 2001, something Ron couldn’t even dream of doing.

     You lift your gaze. Draco is staring at you, watching the adoration on your face, reminding you that you will forever be unable to do as he does. You flinch your hand away and stuff it in the pocket of your raggedy robes.

    “Let’s have a look, then,” you say. “Get on it and show me how it works.”

  Draco sets everything up. You watch him closely, recounting the steps you have memorised for no reason at all, steps you are intrigued by but will never use. He gives you one final look before he mounts the broom and takes off.

    And he’s just as beautiful as you imagined.

    You’ve seen Quidditch matches. You’ve watched players soar through the air for hours on end, watched them swerve between hoops and dodge Bludgers with an efficiency similar to that of a bird. You’ve seen it all, but it’s quite different when you’re watching someone like Malfoy have the sky all to themselves. There’s no dodging, no jerky swerves, no expressions of frustration. It’s just Malfoy and his broom, swerving between nothing, grinning down at you.

     His blonde hair flashes silver every time he flies in front of the commentator’s lights. You place a hand on your forehead, blocking out the beams just enough to see him do a loop before he yells out your name and waves.

    You laugh, unable to help yourself. Jumping to be seen a bit better, you wave your arms violently back and forth, hoping for no reason at all that Malfoy can see you, that he’s smiling down at you, having fun-

     He does a final loop and then crashes to the floor, dirt flying up all around him, splattering his robes and his face, but he’s laughing and smiling as he jogs back to your side.

    “Wow,” you say, giving him a round of applause. “That was good, Malfoy.”

   “Thank you, thank you,” he replies. “Your turn?”

   You nod enthusiastically, watching Draco set the broom up until it is hovering in the air between you. 

   “The magic bits all done now,” he says. “I’m assuming you know how to work the rest?”

   You place your hand on the broom; immediately it deflates, becoming heavy in your hand when it should feel light as air. You frown, dropping it to the floor.

    “It stopped working,” you say.

   Draco hums in confusion, bends down and picks it up. He tries again, getting the broom to float before he steps back and you have another go. Once again, the broom deflates and crashes to the floor between you.

    “Well, that’s bloody annoying,” you grumble. “Walked all the way through Hogsmeade and this is what I get for it?”

    Draco picks up the broom again. “Don’t be so dramatic. If you want to have a go, I’ll just get on with you.”

  You falter. “What?”

   He swings his leg over the broom and motions for you to get on behind him; there’s plenty of room, but the mere idea of soaring through the air upon the same broom as Draco Malfoy is a bit intimidating.

   “Listen, mate.” You take a cautious step back. “I know my family can be a bit of a pain when it comes to you, but I never had any issue with you. If you want me dead, you could have just-”

  “Oh, for the love of-” Draco surges forward, grabs a handful of your robes and rugs you onto the broom behind him. You yelp, having only seconds to grab onto his waist before he’s kicking off the floor and suddenly you’re in the air.

     You bury your head in his spine, groaning against his robes; you were so prepared for this, and yet the abruptness with which he took off has your stomach reeling. The wind pelts your face. The world gets smaller and smaller and smaller below you…

    You peek an eye out from Malfoy’s robes, the breath leaving you in an instant. Hogwarts really is a wonderful sight to behold when you’re looking at it from above; the lanterns flicking subtly in the hallways, the shadows of passing students drifting by the window, the smoke billowing from the many chimneys dotting the castles exterior.

    “Bloody hell,” is the only way you can articulate your feelings. 

    Draco laughs, the noise reverberating against your cheek. “It’s nice, isn’t it?”

   “It’s. . . more than nice,” you choke out, finally pulling away from him completely, though you keep your arms wound around his waist. “Is this what you see during every Quidditch match? ‘Cause you clearly don’t see the Snitch all that often.”

   Draco jerks the front of the broom. You simply laugh, even as you’re forced to tighten your grip on his waist to stay in the air.

    “It’s a little different,” he replies, shooting you a playful glare. “There’s always so much going on in a Quidditch match, it’s difficult to stop and focus on the scenery.”

    “That makes sense.”

   Draco hums, jerking his broom to go in the opposite direction. “I hope that’s not another dig at my Seeker skills, Weasley.”

   “If the shoe fits, Malfoy.”

    The broom is directed into an abrupt nosedive.

   You screech, pressing your head - yet again - into Malfoy’s spine, as if being unable to see the floor will mean you are not heading directly towards it. The wind whistles loudly in your ears, though not loud enough to cover Malfoy’s cackling laugh as he tugs and suddenly the broom is soaring back into the air.

   You pant, lifting your head, darting your eyes left and right. “What the hell, Malfoy?”

    “Did that scare you?”

    “Of course it did! Why would you do that?”

   He glances at you, grinning from ear to ear. He doesn’t even have to say anything - you get the message. He’s always had fun teasing you, and that isn’t going to stop tonight.

   You roll your eyes, slapping him on the back. “You’re the absolute worst.”

   “So you’ve told me.”

    It’s silent after that. The two of you fly circles round the Quidditch pitch until it gets too cold for Malfoy to grip the handle properly. He heads back to the ground, feet skidding against the floor, one hand winding around and gripping your waist to stop the impact from hurting too much.

    You stumble off the broom, grin evident on your face. “That was incredible!”

   Malfoy lazily picks at the handle, not looking up when he hums in agreement.

   Your excitement is palpable, screaming through your system at a million miles per hour. You clap your hands, doing a tiny twirl in the middle of the Quidditch pitch purely because you can, because you’ve just flew, because Charlie is going to be so damn proud of you-

    You open your eyes to see Malfoy staring at you. 

   He’s wearing an expression you have never seen him wear before; dazed, almost, like he doesn’t quite know how to process what he’s feeling or seeing. His lips are slightly parted, hands limp so his broom falls halfway to the floor. His blue eyes stare into your own, and slowly he starts to tilt his head.

    Your cheeks heat up, and you quickly look away. “Don’t look at me like that, Malfoy.”

    He doesn’t say anything for a number of minutes, and you’re suddenly much too nervous to look up to see why. You can still feel the burn of his gaze on the side of your head, even as you keep your eyes trained on the grass beneath you.

     And then suddenly Malfoy takes a step forward. Just a single step, but it’s enough to put you nearly chest to chest with the Slytherin. You can smell the wind clinging to his clothes, the fresh scent of grass and a slight undertone of sweat. You can hear his breathing, suddenly much more shallow than it was before.

    You risk a glance upwards, not entirely sure why you’re not moving away from him, making some remark about how weird he is or how badly he annoys you. All words have died on your tongue, and it’s understandable when you look up to see him staring right down at you, not a single flash of humour upon his face.

    His hand is on your cheek in seconds; your breath leaves you in one clean swoop, the feel of his palm making your heart jump.

    “Your smile is. . . very pretty,” he says, so quietly his words could easily be mistaken for the wind. 

    “Draco…”

   “Come back to the castle with me,” he continues. “I can convince McGonagall to let you stay in the Slytherin common room.”

    Your eyes widen. “Wait, really?” 

   His grin flashes in the dark, sharp and perfect. “If you want to accompany me. If you-”

    His words are cut short by Molly Weasley bellowing your name from across the Quidditch field.

   You leap away from Malfoy, very nearly falling over your own robes in the process. Malfoy himself looks suddenly flustered, running his ringed hands through his hair and looking away from the blinding lights in an attempt to hide the pink hue of his cheeks.

    “Y/N Weasley, do not ignore me!” Molly screeches, and then she is Apparating in front of you and seizing you by the shoulders, shaking you. “ARE. YOU. INSANE?”

   “Mum!” you exclaim. “Bloody hell, Mum, calm down!”

  “CALM DOWN?” she cries, voice cracking. “Don’t you dare tell me to calm down! Can you even begin to comprehend the fright your father and I got when we sent an owl up to the school to check how you and Ron were getting on, only to be told that you weren’t even in the Hogwarts castle?”

    Guilt falls heavily on your shoulders. “Sorry.”

   “Oh, you will be.” Molly grabs your wrist and starts stampeding across the field, muttering things like “early grave… grey hairs….can’t believe” beneath her breath. You, however, don’t even fully register what she is trying to say as you turn and glance at Malfoy, who is standing stock still in the centre of the Quidditch pitch, watching you go with his broom hanging limp at his side.

    Molly Apparates back to the Hogs Head, and that’s the last you see of him.

   ----

   “Please tell me it’s a joke.”

    You don’t even look up.

   “Y/N, please tell me Mum was just pulling my leg.”

   “I don’t-”

   “Oh, god, you can’t even look at me.” Ron falls into his chair and grabs a hash brown, stuffing it in his mouth. “You were out with Malfoy?”

    You wince; the volume with which Ron always insists on speaking has never made sense to you. “Not for very long,” you lie. “And what’s it to you who I hang out with?”

    “Good point,” Hermione chirps. “But Malfoy, Y/N? Really? You could do so much better.”

    Something burns in your chest, an overwhelming urge to tell the two of them to get their judgemental noses out of your business; however, you know doing such a thing will do nothing to persuade them that nothing is going on between you and Malfoy, so you instead choose to scoop some cereal into your mouth and pretend you hadn’t heard.

    “It just doesn’t make sense,” Ron continues. “Malfoy’s a Prefect, for crying out loud. What’s he doing sneaking out of the castle in the dark?”

   “Clearly he wanted to see Y/N,” Hermione says.

   “Well, yeah, but why? Y/N’s a Squib!”

  “Thanks, Ron,” you grumble.

   Ron groans, nudging your elbow. “You know that’s not what I meant; most people don’t have a problem with you. But Malfoy - he’s a different cup of tea altogether, isn’t he?”

    “How so?” 

   Ron shrugs. “He’s just a close-minded little weasel. Can’t see anyone being anything other than pure blood.”

  Hermione rolls her eyes. “How many times do I have to remind you, Ron? Y/N is a pure blood - they just haven’t got the magical abilities.”

    Ron waves a dismissive hand. “Either way, I’m surprised Draco hasn’t tried humiliating you a thousand times already.”

    “Have you ever actually had a real conversation with Draco?” The words are out before you can stop them. Hermione and Ron cautiously glance at you, eyebrows raised.

    “Oh, don’t tell me he’s buttered you up,” Ron says. “Not you. I have to bloody live with you!”

    “He hasn’t buttered me up,” you shoot back. “I just don’t see why I should completely boycott him just because you lot don’t like him. He’s nice to me.”

    Ron scoffs. “He’s nice to me. You know what that sounds like, Y/N? Sounds like you’re fraternising with the enemy; getting cuddly; abandoning the side that put clothes on your back-”

   “Oh Ron, honestly!” Hermione hisses, slapping his arm. “Give it a rest; Y/N can like whoever they want.” She nods at you, giving you a small smile. “I’m happy for you.”

  You smile back, even though her words do nothing but fluster you; she speaks of you liking Malfoy as if you outright said you liked him, but you never did. To be honest, you don’t even know what your feelings are for Malfoy; after last night, you will admit to feeling something, something that was always lurking beneath the surface but refused to make an appearance because every time it started to rise, Malfoy would say something to Ron, or you, or he would just be ignorant and you couldn’t bring yourself to admit what you were feeling for him.

    But last night, things took such a sharp turn. So sharp, in fact, that you haven’t even fully processed what any of it means, or what you’re meant to do now, or how you’re meant to approach the topic with Malfoy the next time you see him. 

     Breakfast finishes, and it’s nearly time to leave. On any normal day, leaving Hogwarts is the highlight; you can escape the stares and the uncertain questions. Now, however, as you, Ron and Hermione stand up from the table and get ready to go downstairs where you are due to meet your parents, you can’t help but feel a little. . . incomplete, as if you didn’t finish something you set out to do on this brief trip.

    Harry catches up to you all as you’re wondering down the staircase. “You lot couldn’t have waited?”

   “We’re on a schedule, Potter,” you reply. “Molly and Arthur Weasley cannot be left waiting.”

   Harry rolls his eyes, pulling you into a brotherly side hug as you arrive in the main hall; sure enough, Molly and Arthur Weasley are nowhere to be found, and not a single person is surprised.

    “Always late,” Ron grumbles. “I just want to get rid of you.”

   “Shut up.” You pull Ron into a hug. “Try not to get poisoned again before Christmas, alright? I won’t be able to handle Mum on my own if Percy doesn’t show up again.”

    “It’s not me we need to keep an eye on,” Ron says, pulling away. “If I put you on a leash, do you think that will keep you away from the Slytherin boys?”

    Harry splutters, head snapping up. 

  You groan. “Nothing happened with Malfoy and I!”

   “Oh.”

    Your heart drops.

   And it shouldn’t. The sound of Draco’s voice - that quiet, innocent little oh - should have done nothing to faze you, but it does. You whirl around and there he is, standing on the bottom step with his hands swinging by his side and his face strained with his attempts to keep that strong expression upon it.

     “Sorry. Looks like I’ve walked in at the wrong time,” he sneers. 

    “What do you want, Malfoy?” Ron spits. “Can’t you see we’re a bit occupied at the-”

   “Draco…”

   Malfoy’s blue eyes flick to you. A muscle tenses in his jaw before he shrugs, turns on his heel and starts walking back the way he came.

     Your heart is beating so fast. It feels heavy. Your eyes are burning, unshed tears rising to the surface even though none of it makes sense; you weren’t lying. Nothing did happen between you and Malfoy last night - nothing serious, nothing physical.

    But you would be a liar, a downright fool, to claim nothing changed. Soaring through the sky on the back of his broom, watching the stars glide past, laughing louder than you have laughed in many, many months - something did happen, whether it was physical or not.

    You turn, eyes finding Ron’s immediately. He’s scowling until he meets your gaze and notices the desperation there; his twin, the strongest of his siblings because you’ve been the most misunderstood your entire life, yet here you are, on the verge of tears because you don’t know what to do.

    Ron’s expression softens. He looks over at Harry and Hermione, neither of whom seem to have read the room and have since continued their chat about Harry’s Defence Against the Dark Arts homework.

   Ron sighs, steps forward and says, “Go. I’ll tell Mum and Dad you went to the loo or something.”

   You’re off in a heartbeat.

    If last nights endeavours don’t give away your feelings for Malfoy, then the speed at which you dart back up the stairs certainly does. The hallways are empty besides the odd stray ghost, all of whom you ignore as you search desperately for any sign of Malfoy roaming amongst them. It seems like all is lost until you eventually round the corner leading to the library and very nearly crash right into his back.

    He’s leaning against the wall, though he spins around as soon as you make an appearance. His eyes widen, mouth opening but you’re speaking before he can say anything.

    “For gods sake, Malfoy! Why do you have to be so dramatic all the time?” you pant, slapping his arm. “Do you know how difficult it is to run up those stairs when they’re moving like that? No, of course you don’t, because you can just Apparate or whatever it is you lot do to get from one place to another.” You groan, clutching the stitch in your side. “Please don’t let me leave here without an explanation.”

    Draco stares at you open mouthed, seeming too stunned for words.

   You close your eyes and say, “I didn’t mean what I said.”

    “What are you-”

  “I don’t think nothing happened between us last night.”

   Draco pauses. You lean forward, pressing your forehead to the wall in exasperation; your side is still aching, and time is running out, and you’re no longer all that confident in the fact that Draco feels the same way.

     “I think. . . I think we were very caught up in the moment,” you hurry on. “It was dark, and the lights were a little romantic-”

   “Romantic?”

   “And obviously we’re both very confused, because we hate each other, you know? That’s kind of like our thing! You take the mick out of me, and I take the mick out of you, and then we don’t see each other for a good few months and then it restarts, and-”

    “I don’t hate you.”

   “Yes you do. You always have.”

    Draco places a hand on your arm, gently easing you away from the wall. Your eyes open, hands trembling with anxiety but that doesn’t stop Draco from slipping his fingers between your own.

    “I don’t hate you,” he repeats, quieter this time. “Do you wanna know a bit of a secret, Weasley?”

   Your heart jumps. “Uh. . . Go on then.”

  “Last night when the broom fell every time you touched it? That was me. I was making it fall so I had an excuse for you to fly with me.”

    You blink. In any other situation, with any other person, that news would absolutely infuriate you. But now, you look up into Draco’s eyes and you see that soft, cheeky smile and you can’t even bring yourself to feel anything besides absolute fondness.

    Nonetheless, you scowl. “You really are a little rat, aren’t you Malfoy?”

    He throws his head back and laughs, and that does it for you. You grab his chin, pull his head down and kiss him.

    His hands find your jaw immediately, winding through your hair as the world disappears and trouble doesn’t exist. It’s a weird feeling to be so at peace with someone who is the definition of destruction, someone who was born and raised to cause havoc. You silently wonder who taught him to be so gentle. 

      Draco pulls away first, eyes still half-closed, tongue swiping so casually across his bottom lip, as if savouring the feel of you. You are less graceful, stumbling away from him enough to exclaim, “So that broom would have stayed up if you weren’t messing with it? I knew it!”

    Draco rolls his eyes, grabbing your hand to pull you back towards him. “Don’t pretend you didn’t prefer flying with me.”

    You scowl. “I would have preferred having the option.” 

   “I’ll make it up to you.”

   “You better; let’s see who can catch the Snitch quicker.”

   Draco pecks your lips. “Sounds like a plan.”

   ----

      “Draco, fly straight! Fly straight!”

   “Why would I do that? The Snitch isn’t-”

    “Just fly straight!”

    Draco groans, tugging the broom in the direction you’ve ordered. Up ahead, Ron and Charlie twist around each other, eyes scanning the garden for any sign of the little golden ball you’re all desperately searching for. Charlie is good - you know this, have seen him play Quidditch too many times to deny such a fact. Now, however, you’re determined to give your boyfriend a point.  

    “Has Weasley spotted it?” Draco calls over the wind. 

   “There’s three Weasleys in our vicinity, Draco, you’re gonna have to be a bit more specific.”

   “Ron. Has Ron spotted the Snitch?”

   You glance over your shoulder. “No, he still looks like he doesn’t know where he is.”

   “Oh, good.” Draco speeds up then; you cling onto his waist, keeping your eyes firm on Charlie up ahead. “What have you got planned, Weasley?”

   “Give me a minute.” You push yourself up using Draco’s shoulders; your boyfriend cries out, averting his eyes from the path ahead to look up at you as you balance on the back of his broom, a trick Fred and George taught you when you were only little.

    “What are you doing?” Draco yells, reaching round with one hand to grab your knees. “You’re gonna fall!”

   “Just keep flying straight!”

   “Oh my-”

  Charlie tries to whizz past, knowing full well what you’re planning to do - he’s seen this trick a million times before, has always claimed it to be cheating. In your eyes, you can’t really cheat if you’re nothing more than a bystander.

   And that’s what drives you to leap forward and crash onto the back of Charlie’s broom.

   In the background, you can hear Draco cursing, his own broom swerving left and right before he manages to get it together and spin back around. Ron is laughing. Charlie is fuming.

   “Get off!” your older brother exclaims. “You said you wouldn’t do that!”

  “Give Draco a chance,” you say through giggles, before you slam your hands into the front of Charlie’s broom, directing it to the floor. Charlie yells out your name, thrashing against your hands, but this is something you’ve been doing from the age of eleven, when Fred and George figured out they could use their younger sibling to their advantage, despite the fact you can’t actually fly a broom yourself.

    Charlie’s broom crashes to the floor and the two of you roll off it. You scramble up and sprint to the far side of the yard before Charlie can grab your foot and pull you back down for a scolding. 

    It’s with the professional on the ground that Draco is able to snatch the Snitch right out from under Ron’s nose. You cheer when Draco holds the golden ball in the air, jumping and clapping in your excitement. 

    “That was cheating!” Ron yells.

   “I said that, mate,” Charlie calls back, but neither you nor Draco are listening. Draco comes back to the ground, stumbles off his broom and rushes towards you, the Snitch still in his hand. You jump into his arms, giving him a hug as he laughs heartily in your ear.

   “That’s one way to win a Quidditch match,” he says. “Don’t do that again, though. Nearly gave me a bloody heart attack when you stood up.”

  You pull away, keeping your arms around his neck. “Aw, were you worried about me?”

    Draco scowls. “I’ll push you off the broom next time.”

  You chuckle and press your lips to his. He melts in that way he only seems to when it’s you he’s melting into, his arm tightening on your waist, the other pressing the Snitch against your neck. 

     “Oh, bloody hell, Y/N-”

   You pull away from Draco just as your mother appears in front of you, red-faced and furious. 

    “AND HOW MANY TIMES HAVE I TOLD YOU TO STOP DIVING BETWEEN BROOMS? DO YOU WANT TO GET YOURSELF KILLED? HONESTLY, CHARLIE COULD HAVE DIED! Oh, hello Draco, dear - would you like some toast?” 

[razorblade180]

Twin snowflakes part 24: Date Night.

Part 23 here! <-

Still exhausted, Veronica flopped back onto her bed with the help of Nick. The girl let the mattress steal all tension from her body, letting out a sigh of satisfaction. “Aaahhhh! That’s the stuff. Appreciate the help.”

“Don’t mention it. Especially after what you just did. Frankly I had no plan to get Summer to cooperate.”

Veronica chuckled the best she could. “Hehe, not often Nicholas Schnee doesn’t have a plan. I guess you owe me then? Lucky for you I take words of affirmation as payment all the time.”

Nick smiled. It was nice to see Veronica joking. Encountering Shiva always put a dread over him, but she seemed to not care much. That’s Veronica alright, refusing to take crap from anybody. “I could praise you, or how about I praise you over a nice dinner?” Nick quickly responded.

All the neurons in Veronica’s brain suddenly came to a screeching halt. Her body immediately came flinging forward to sit upright to stare at the smiling boy. “What…?” She asked, still processing the question.

“Let me take you dinner.” He said again, “I have a reservation at this place in Atlas tonight. I was gonna cancel but we could just have a night out together. You still haven’t tried much food from here right? Plus I know you still have to be hungry. This works out.”

Veronica couldn’t believe what she was hearing. Did Nick just ask her out on a dinner date? That didn’t sound right, even if it was a thank you gift. As quickly as her eyes lit up, they began to squint at him with skepticism. “What happened with Valerie?”

Now his eyes got big. He wasn’t expecting that response. “Uhhhh what?” His voice gave away his nervousness and Veronica could clearly tell.

“Don’t play dumb with me Nick. I’m not gonna call you a liar or anything, but I know you, and you know me; as well as my feelings.” She said that last part sheepishly. “You aren’t the kind of person to play with my emotions or offer a dinner date when you’re crushing on Val, so what’s up? Be straight with me”

It was becoming clear to Nick that he apparently could be read like a book. This is the third person within twenty four hours to look at him and automatically knew to ask about Valerie. This was ridiculous! His life had many things that made him bummed out. How are people guessing right on the first try!?”

“Uhhhhh” he scratched the back of his head and sighed. No point tip toeing around it. Not like it was a secret or anything, yet his stomach felt queasy all the same. “I ran into her yesterday. She was pretty upset that I didn’t tell her I got sick. I apologized and tried to smooth our recent bickering over with dinner. It was going okay, but then…Val immediately started to brush me off. I got upset, she started deflecting, people started staring, then she really started saying some things that really got me upset; kinda made a little scene out of it before walking off. Nor really princely, huh?” He tried smiling at the self jab, but failed. “Anyways, next time we meet per her request more a less will be at the tournament. We currently aren’t on speaking terms. Something she should be fine with since distance was what she wanted in the first place.”

Veronica could hear a little venom in those words. Val really did have Nick upset. He’s never this openly bitter. Though maybe it was being behind closed doors that allowed him to drop the facade of being consistently pleasant. Frankly, that made Veronica a little happy for him, in an odd way. However… “I see. So I assume that this dinner reservation was for you and her?” An answer wasn’t needed. Nick’s moment of sulking was replaced with a guilt ridden look on his face the moment she asked. “You know, kinda shitty you’re asking me to a dinner meant for another girl that turned you down. Not a fan of being someone’s second choice.”

Nick closed his eyes and let in a sharp breath like he had just been hit. “Oooo yeah, yeah that was pretty messed up for me.”

“Mhmm, big time. No girl wants to hear that you know?”

“I didn’t mean- I wasn’t trying to...sorry. That was tasteless and selfish of me.” He looked down, shamefully and with genuine guilt. It was only when Veronica’s hand lifted his head by his chin did he see the girl stare at him with an observing gaze and lips pouting to the side. She then crossed her arms and looked away from him, ears tucked and a tinge of red visible on her.

“You’re lucky you’re a good person and I am hungry. I…guess you could apologize with a good dinner?” Veronica knew he wasn’t trying to be insensitive. Still, she was more than a little ticked off at herself for letting him off easy. Darn his good qualities! Being mad towards him for long was never gonna happen. Not to mention having a calm outing together is a golden opportunity. No way she wasn’t gonna capitalize off of Valerie’s mistakes. Her eyes shifted towards Nick to see a relieved smile that only made staying upset harder.

“This place better be good! Also I’m gonna order every expensive thing possible!” Veronica declared, attempting to save face.

“Hehe, thank you, and go right ahead and order anything you want. It’s not until around nine so please, get some rest.”

“I should be saying that to you. Isn’t going out at night in the cold while moody only gonna give you more sniffles?”

“Pfft, I’m sick anymore. Just focus on healing and rest. Not that I have to tell you this, but you gotta dress nice for where we’re eating.”

Veronica smirked, pointing at a closet of designed outfits. “Careful. I may not be worth billions but I’ll make you look like a pocket change if you don’t wear you best.”

The boy let out a cocky chuckle before walking to the door. “For your information, I’m two billion.” He said puffing out his chest playfully, leaving on that note. He could hear her gentle laughter behind the door. At least he could lift one girl’s spirit. As for the other, Nick looked at his sister’s locked door. He couldn’t help himself. He wasn’t going to knock, but he had to at least walk to it. Come to think of it, Nick had a hard time remembering when this door remained open. Most days it kept either the warmth in, while shutting others out. Slowly he rested his hand against it. The wood, cool to the touch.

“Tell me what you need.” He thought, “I’m not a mind reader…” Nick could only sigh. He removed his hand and stepped back. As he began to walk, the door moved. As if something was pressed against it from the other side.

“I know you’re there.” Summer said from the other side. Nick quickly walked back to it. Somehow he could imagine how she was on the other side. One leg extended while the other was bent as she pressed her back to the door. Nick took a seat himself, mimicking the pose he envisioned.

“You okay?”

“Far from it, but that’s par for course…” Summer looked over her shoulder as if she was actually resting against her brother’s back. “Honestly I feel so fucked up some days that therapy feels like a joke. I think I need a break.”

“What kind of break?”

“The usual…” Summer let her words draw out lazily. The back of her head rhythmically tapped the door. “Care to join me?”

Nick tugged at the carpet fibers, mulling it over. “Mmmm sorry, I’m not in the mood for that kind of relief. Besides, I already have plans. I’ll cover for you though. I think venting could do some real good for ya. Just don’t stay out too long. Leave around… half past nine.”

“Will do, thanks Nick.” Even though a door separated them, Summer could feel the care from the other side. Veronica’s words back in the forest about Nick and how Summer treats their relationship struck an all too sensitive cord. “I promise not to worry you. Have fun with whatever you’re doing tonight. I’ll keep you updated and everything.”

“Don’t stress about it. I believe in you. Anyways, I gotta get going. I think I’ll do a bit of distressing in my own way.” Nick stands up. “Better go while there’s daylight.”

“Gonna pay respects?”

“Yep. Enjoy your outing. I’ll see ya tomorrow if I don’t see ya tonight before I leave. Love ya.” He walked away after that, not expecting a response. Didn’t need one. After all, Summer coming to the door said enough.

All in all, things felt okay. Life felt okay. By no means was it perfect, but Nick was thankful he had blessings to count. He’d feel better after the tournament. What should’ve been an exciting time was getting more troublesome. Training, performing, fighting Darren in the duos, and now a not so friendly rematch with Valerie. At least Eliza still had a sportsmanship attitude. He still needed to ask her favor as well. By the end of this she would certainly be sick of him. Nick was surprised she didn't block his number yet. That would royally suck.

His slow walk took down the stairs and back to the front of the manor. He heard dishes clanking from the door to the far left while he grabbed his dark blue winter coat off the rack. “That you dad?” The kitchen door swung open to show Jaune drying a cup and Yang waving in the background as she held a slice in her mouth while talking to Blake. How they managed to swipe pizza out of Veronica’s room was beyond Nick.

“What’s up?” Jaune said, noticing his son put his jacket on. “Heading out? Your mom and aunts should be back soon. Pretty sure they’d want-”

“Veronica and I are going on a dinner date later.” Nick interjected. As planned, his father was derailed. Stammering footsteps came plopping out of the kitchen in the form of a very wide eyed blonde, and a shocked ninja. Blake’s ears even did the little twitch Nick as seen Veronica do whenever she’s caught off guard. “Yeah I thought you all should now. I’d say don’t bug her about it and let her rest, but considering Yang’s feet are already pointed towards the stairs…”

Yang looked down. “Huh...how about that?” She said, walking up the stairs with Blake trying to stop her.”

“Let her rest Yang!”

“But I wanna say stuff~” she whined, “I guarantee you she’s listening to us right now.”

Yang was right on the money. Veronica was currently judging how much strength it would take to lock the door. Her odds were bad. “Okay I don’t care how cute he is. This was cruel!” Veronica thought loudly to herself.

Jaune watched Blake slowly get dragged up the stairs by trying to stop Yang. Without looking, he leaned forward and reached out to grab Nick’s shoulder, who was trying to slowly back up to the door. He faced forward and smiled. “Good attempt, but you’d need a better distraction than that.”

“Eh it was worth a shot…” Nick sighed. He was pulled forward and fell into a surprise hug. He stood silently for a minute before wrapping his arms around his dad. “You needed a hug?”

“Not really, but you looked like you did.” Jaune said, squeezing tired. “You know you’re growing up into a fine young man. Better than me by a long shot at your age. I hope you know your entire family is proud of you.”

“I know dad…” Nick said, his voice getting stuck in his throat a little.

“I know I can’t relate to some of the pressures you feel. Honestly being a part of a household with this much attention and expectation still gets me anxious from time to time. So don’t hesitate to vent to me. You’re a young adult yeah, but I’m still my son and sixteen. Weiss and I would much rather see you yell at an annoying cameraman or get scrappy with a bully than see you try to hold it in for the sake of family image. Remember that.”

How did he do it? It was unfair, downright cheating almost in Nick’s eyes. How could so many people easily call him out? “What’s the point of enduring if everyone I wanna reassure sees right through the act? So much for a brave face.” He muttered. Jaune finally let go of him. The compassionate father poked Nick right where his heart was.

“Enduring an ordeal for the sake of others is pretty brave in my book, but who said you couldn’t endure hardships and still be open to those who matter? Have you meant your friends and family? Besides your sister I don’t think there’s a soul close to you who isn’t an expert of seeing past masks. Val and Vee live with bleeding hearts and the rest have had to put up with me!” He chuckled, “Just like I’m sure you know when someone is upset.”

Nick had his doubts. “Mmmmm, starting to think I might not know them as well as I think. Val is...ugh, I don’t know she is. Learned about Vee’s traits recently for the first time, and Summer-”

“Okay, I see your point. But! Learning new things about them and knowing there’s things you don’t know, doesn’t erase what you did. Y’all are teens. There’s a bunch of things to sort through. At the end of the day though, you know them where it counts. Does that make sense?”

“....Yeah, I think I do.” Nick nodded, thanks dad. Seriously. It’s kinda scary how good at talking you are.”

“Comes with practice, specifically learning to listen and just watch closely. You may not realize it but you do this plenty. It’s a big reason people gravitate towards you. Well… people who are just money hungry anyways, but that’s more of a rich person policy than a Nick-ism. I digress! You better get going before your mother comes back and give you her own talk.” Jaune said. He opened up the door for Nick to leave. “From the way you’ve been acting I assume you’re heading to pay your respects?”

Nick nodded, “I’ll try not to be terribly long. Don’t tell mom unless she asks. You know how she gets?” Nick walked through the door, fist bumping his dad on the way out.

Jaune closed the door and went back to the kitchen. Somewhere above him he could hear giggles and a few squealing. “Hopefully nothing catches on fire up there.”

“You are starting a fire!” Blake yelled, trying to contain Yang’s excitement so the blonde’s hair would stop flaring up. “Use your words.” Blake laughed.

“Please…” Veronica groaned. This level of energy was higher than usual. “You’re more excited than me. It’s just a dinner date. Barely even that. More like a thank you gift I suppose.” That being said the blush coming to her face clearly sung a different tune. “Can we please talk about anything else? I mean mom, you’re here!”

Blake crossed her arms. “So I heard you got into a fight? Let’s talk about that.”

“Ummm, so this date, any suggestions on what to wear?” Veronica poorly deflected. Blake didn’t even respond and Yang was smart enough not to. There was no choice but to talk about it unfortunately. “Sigh….I know okay? Ma told me I should’ve eaten and I didn’t listen. I should’ve, or learn to walk away from-”

“I’ll stop you right there. Don’t think for a second I wasn’t okay with a person getting hit when they were clearing harassing you.” Blake took a seat on the bed. “Expecting you to balance instinct, emotions, and logic here in Atlas was never in the cards, because frankly we don’t know what that balance is. Not to say I assumed you’d fight here. All I wanted was for you to try and...take a break from the norm.”

“If that’s the case then school should’ve been removed right off the back. It doesn’t matter the location, people act the same. Different faces, same insufferability. Only difference is these bozos are rich and human.”

“You make it sound like you aren’t crushing on a rich human whose parents are allowing you to stay in their manor.” Yang deadpanned. “Not making you go to school would only leave you bored and gods know what you’ll do with too much time on your hands. Then again you managed to stir things up already by stealing a spot on the cheer team.”

Blake did a double take. That wasn’t mentioned earlier. “Cheer team? How did that happen?”

“A girl got cocky with me so I out performed her. Honestly I was more than a little surprised by it all. Holding pom-poms, doing flips on mats, and even the couch blowing the whistle, kinda forgot what those things were like until I was in the moment.”

“See? That’s a change from norm.”

“Pretty sure that counts as a return to form.” Veronica countered. “It’s whatever though. Just a temporary thing. Although I’ll admit that Eliza chick, Marigold’s kid, she’s pretty decent.”

Blake wasn’t expecting that easier. “Oh? Well that’s nice. Sounds like that could be not so temporary?”

“Eh, whatever happens, happens.” It was a nice thought. Veronica couldn’t deny that. “Any other thing you wanted to discuss with me? I’d like to lay down for a bit longer.”

“How’s it feel to discuss all this genetic stuff with Nick and Summer? Call it what you want, but telling them was no different from a therapy session if it made you feel better.” Blake stated.

Veronica frowned. “Not how I see it. I’m pretty indifferent for the most part I’d say. Haven’t thought deeply about it. Veronica plopped her head on the pillows and turned away.

Blake and Yang took their scrappy daughter’s hint to leave. Blake got off the bed and was more than fine revisiting the discussion later. Yang briefly bent over Veronica’s covered face and kissed her head.

“Muah! By the way, I’m pretty sure Nick would love to see you in his colors. No heels though. He’s a little touchy about his height.” Yang left after that, closing the door gently. Veronica could only lay there pondering the advice.

“Hmmmm that could work.”

xxxx

While the youth finally got some rest, Adults were hard at work trying to piece together all that’s happened. Ruby and Weiss scoped out the undisturbed frozen lake along with Winter, Nora, and Penny most importantly. Though there wasn’t much to go on. Just crushed rocks, claw marks from ferocious grimm, and a mix of blue and red blood that made Weiss particularly uncomfortable. Ruby sensed that uneasiness and quickly began rubbing her partner’s back.

“Your daughter’s fine.” Ruby reassured. “If what she said is accurate then she never actually lost control.”

“Yeah but the blue dyed snow before us means she just barely held on. That’s too close for comfort.” Weiss held her hands together gently. “It feels like things are getting worse.”

“Because you’re in the thick of it.” Nora spoke, projecting her voice to get their attention. The strong and prideful woman made her way over to them. “Every day you’re worried for her and wake up knowing your daughter is a few rooms away upset. A parent is only as happy as their saddest child, and seeing Summer so distant makes it difficult to see the good stuff. This situation is trying, yes, but Summer still fought back. Your daughter fought Shiva off and killed grimm to protect someone. Determination like that is a sign Summer isn’t done fighting by a long shot, so that means you shouldn’t mope. I mean she gets all that strength to defy assholes from you.”

Ruby gave a big smile. She couldn’t have said it better herself. “Yeah! Nora’s right. We’ll turn this around.”

“....Geez, you two ever stop being helpful?” Weiss said, smiling gently. She was happy to have them here. “Thank you, especially you Nora.”

“Considerate my way of apologizing if Valerie really upset Nick. I told her she needed to call him, especially after him having the decency to call me so I could keep her in the loop about this. Apparently she wasn’t very pleased that he was ill and didn’t mention it. She’s….a lot sometimes.”

“Hey, so were we. I’m sure she means well and I’m not oblivious to the fact Nick can be...a lot as well. I’m partly to blame. I enable some of his actions towards her from time to time. I think I’m projecting a bit. Maybe I should tell him to move on?” Weiss sighed. Perhaps she played matchmaker too much and misread things.

Nora could only chuckle. “Hehe, I wouldn’t. Believe me when I tell you Valerie doesn’t hate having Nick look her way. A little forwardness is the only way she’ll acknowledge problems she doesn’t want to deal with. I can’t say for certainty what those problems are but I don’t pin any of it Nick. Val has a way of wanting her cake and eating it too. She’s gotta learn hard ways that’s not how life goes. I just hope Nick finds it in himself to not hate her because of this.”

“Pfft, I don’t think hate truly exists in his vocabulary.” Weiss laughed. She could count on her hand how many times Nick truly despised a person. “He’ll be petty about it I’m sure, but that’ll go away. Space between them might be good. At the end of the day I at least want them to still be close. Val has a way of motivating him that I like. He actually has fun.”

“Yeah, my Little Thunderhead excels at moving people, that’s for sure. Her semblance would be pretty mediocre otherwise if she wasn’t.”

The three continued talking lightly until Penny eventually walked up with Winter. “Okay, so I’ve finished running some tests of the area and the deposit of Diamond Dust. I have….unique results.” Penny said, a bit baffled.

Ruby wasn’t a fan of that statement. “Ummm that doesn’t sound great coming from a person who reads books written in binary. What did you find?”

“This dust is less volatile than the samples in my lab, even though it’s been untouched for longer. By all means it should be more refined.”

“Well isn’t it a good thing that it isn’t?” Weiss asked. “We barely handle what we have.”

“True, but it’s strange. There’s a couple possibilities that may explain this. Summer may have used up some unintentionally, or maybe Shiva herself was syphoning it.”

Winter folded her arms, “Not a fan of that second option. Based on the story though, what if it wasn’t touched at all?”

“Panic attack.” Penny said immediately. “She hasn’t been here since the accident, right? It’s entirely plausible that Summer’s mind and body remembered the trauma. Repressed memories or outright fear and anxiety could be the basis for this entire event. I tried contacting Oscar if he’s noticed anything different in Summer’s behavior, but I can’t get in contact with him. The seas have been rather violent lately due to weather changes.”

“So what you're basically saying is we're as lost as usual?” Weiss said, falling backwards into the snow. “Juuuuuust great. I’m going to assume the pain attack option then. That’s something I can work on with her. If Shiva is by any chance stronger now then the only thing we can do is what we always do. Brace ourselves.”

Ruby looked down at Weiss. “And option one actually means we have less dust to deal with. That’s a plus!” She knew it was a small amount of positivity but every bit helped. Weiss smiled at her and sat up.

“Here’s hoping for option one as well I suppose. We should probably head back. This place creeps me out a bit.”

Ruby helped Weiss up and everyone began leaving. Penny kept staring at the data she collected and trying to call Oscar. Unfortunately the man wasn’t answering. Her displeased sigh was heard by Winter, who rubbed the girl’s back.

“Not to be insensitive, but your son and Qrow wouldn’t do anything too crazy out a sea would they?”

Winter laughed nervously. “Hehehe….I’m sorry.”

“That doesn’t inspire confidence!” Penny yelped. Now she was only going to think about them being stranded by the gods or in a storm. Hopefully she would hear from him soon. “I guess a deeper study will have to wait. Ruby, can I stay at your place with Whitley for a bit? I don’t wanna go home yet. Too lonely.

“Sure thing! Door is always open. Though I bet you’ll have a livelier time at the manor these days.”

Penny tried her best to act like that would be a good idea. “Tempting, but a certain blonde teenage girl wouldn’t like that much, considering her parents so desperately want my husband to be her therapist. Summer also sees me enough as is. Nick would be happy I was there.” She said in a happier tune.

“He’s not home if I know him well enough.” Weiss frowned. “Times like these, I’m sure he’ll visit the graveyards.”

Truly, her son was easy to read.

xxxx

Right now the boy in question walked through an alley of tombstones and snow, his and covered in pollen. Atlas’s central graveyard had become a place for Nick over the years. The wide space and solitude became a welcoming barrier that blocked out most strangers from approaching him. Even the paparazzi had enough tact to not disturb a person here. His feet carried him down multiple lanes towards an old tree barren of any leaves looming over a grave with no actual tombstone. Standing before it was Eliza, wearing a dark blue winter coat and deep in thought. He wasn’t expecting to see her today.

Nick kept approaching until he stood beside her silently. A cool breeze went by them as the air itself felt still. Eliza eventually shifted her gaze to him, completely aware he was there. She looked down at his dusty yellow hands before speaking. “Talking to your grandma again?”

“Yeah. She says I should eat more sandwiches. Afraid I’m a little too then.”

“Heh, always witty. Visited your gramps yet?”

Nick shook his head, “No that’s halfway across Atlas from here and further from my home. It’s the next stop. What about you? Didn’t expect you to be here today.”

“Haven’t been in awhile.” Eliza waved her hand to cause a brief gust that blew away the snow from the grave and several others. “It needed cleaning and I was in the area. So what brings you here specifically? You only visit here on anniversaries, holidays, and when you’re moody. Last time I checked this is a random day, soooo”

“Eh don’t worry about it. Everything is alright now. Just decompressing.”

“Fair enough.” Eliza put her hands in her pocket and went back to thinking, until she realized Nick was looking at her again. “Uhh can I help you?” She said a little confrontational.

Nick got a little defensive and spoke quickly. “No, just surprised you’re not pressing me to open up.”

“Why? Your business is your business unless you make it my business. Something you’ll do if your attitude negatively affects the preparation for the tournament.”

“Ouch...well if that’s the case then the favor I’m about to ask you shouldn’t refuse.”

That peaked her interest. Eliza actually turned around fully. “You’ve been asking a lot of favors of me lately.”

“I’ve asked like two favors, and you’re the one telling me to directly involve you if-”

Eliza covered his mouth, irritated by him being right. “I know what I said! Sigh… what’s up?”

Nick looked down at the hand on his mouth, getting Eliza to remove it. “You’re lucky I didn’t lick it.”

“You’re lucky I don’t beat you up on hollow ground.”

Nick smirked. “Oh, so you think you can finally take me?”

Eliza squinted at him as her face got a little red. Why the hell did he have to be like this sometimes!? “The next words you speak better be your favor, or I’m walking away.”

“Well I wouldn’t exactly call it a favor but if you’re training by the harbor tonight, I’d appreciate it if you swooped by the seventh dock. The one with the huge building they rarely put cargo in. Summer is going to be there blowing off some steam. I don’t think anything will go wrong but you know, if you got the time…?”

“Hmmm I guess that’s not unreasonable. Wait, how do you know I train by the harbor!?”

“Did you forget my cousin literally owns a ship? If I’m correct, one time he said his sail caught on fire when a random bolt of lightning came down one day.”

“......” Eliza put her hand back in her pocket and began walking. “You’re really annoying Nick.”

“I’ve done nothing! Also I’m not done talking! I actually do have a real favor I’ve been mulling over for about a day!” Eliza kept walking away from him. “Hey! Don’t just- Can you train me!?” He shouted, hoping to gain her interest again.

It worked wonderfully. Eliza stopped mid-step and pivoted around. “Excuse me?”

“Training, yeah uh there’s this thing Schnee’s do called the candle test. Helps with our glyphs. Long story short, I’m ass at it hehe. Summer has stuff going on and it’s not really clicking with my mom or aunt. Since your magic is sorta like what I have to do, I thought maybe-”

“We are in a contest against each other, Nicholas.” She said firmly. “You are my opponent! One of two people currently in my way from reaching the top. Why on Remnant would I help you?”

Nick’s eyes avoided contact with hers. He began to scratch the back of his head as if he’d been caught red handed in a lie. “Because… you value sportsmanship?” He looked at her to receive an unamused blank stare that was colder than the snow. “Uh, and also you helping me in any capacity will let you in on a proposition that you’d find very intriguing. But I’ll only tell you when we’re training.”

“Tsk, I would think a Schnee would know better how to do business negotiations. Why would I make a deal when I don’t know if I even care about it? You tell me now or not at all.”

“I can’t say it now! I gotta smooth out details.”

“Then I guess we’re done here.”

“Fine, then I guess you don’t want a shot at gold with a sure fire way of at least getting silver!” He boasted, catching Eliza off guard. Nick slicked his hair back and crossed his arms to intimate his uncle’s calm yet assertive demeanor. “Yeah that’s right. I’m saying I have an idea crazy enough to benefit you and I. Everyone wants gold of course. However, you got a little more riding on this, don’t you?”

Eliza remained silent. Nick began walking a little closer to refrain from speaking too loud. “Last year was your real debut to the public eye and it was pretty good one at that. Third place is nothing to snuff at in the singles bracket. However...trust me when I say I know third is the worst seat in the house. That’s where the pressure and stress is. One mistake and you're off the podium and that feels terrible when people finally start looking your way.”

Eliza began tapping her foot. He wasn’t wrong. Not by a long shot. Confident as she was, Eliza was aware of her only two options. Do better, or hit the same bar. Winning was the goal but no one was gonna give her shit for losing to the top two contests. Nick and Valerie have been dominating for about three years now, and here he was saying he can get her to second. “Get to the point.”

Nick unfolded his arms. Time to be gentle again. “I cannot get into specifics at this time, but if you wanna show up at the manor anytime this week to help me, we can talk. I can get you second at minimum in King of the Hill.

His eyes burned with eagerness. Eliza had so many questions but obviously he wouldn’t answer them. This plan clearly had to be in his favor to get first, which neither of them had earned before. However, Valerie was first. How did she fit into this? What was going through his head!? Eliza had to know what regardless if she’d actually be okay with it. Her eyes narrowed at him. “Tsk, I take back what I said. Guess you are a Schnee. I will see when I can come over and help. Now, any other obnoxious request before I get driven away from this conversation?”

“Well……” Nick could feel just how dangerous this situation was. “It’s quite a walk to the other cemetery from here….hehe.” Laughing was hard when someone’s nostrils were flaring at you in frustration. Getting closer might’ve been a terrible decision.

Eliza closed her eyes briefly, then turned around to walk away. She went a few steps before briefly stopping. “Knock the snow off your shoes before you step in.”

Nick lit up like a Christmas tree. “You’re the best!!!”

“Why did he get more votes than me!?” Eliza internally screamed.

xxxxx

The day seemed to drag on. It had taken some time for Weiss to return home with the company of her sister and Ruby. Nora had departed earlier to check in on her family. Penny had opted to head towards Ruby’s home before her. They would’ve gone together but Ruby did want to see her niece and Blake. Penny had yet to properly see her friends. Though she wanted to, she thought it best to hold off for now.

The trio walked into the house and were assaulted by the strong scent of what had to be Jaune’s amazing cooking. They could practically see the aroma of spices dance in the air. One spice in particular hit Ruby. It was subtle but sharp at the same time. The kind of spice that sent a zing through your nose and hit your tastebuds. A mouth watering smile spread on her face and her stomach growled.

“Mmmmmm” Ruby hummed, “Somebody brought spices with them from Menagerie.” She sang. Ruby and Weiss wasted no time heading to the kitchen. Inside was an apron-wearing knight stirring a pot of stew, and their favorite faunus in the whole wide world in an apron cutting vegetables.

Blake didn’t even need to turn around to know what giggling pair just entered the kitchen. She put the knife down all the same and turned around with her arms wide open. “Well-” she couldn’t even say her boastful introduction before her two cheecky smile teammates dove in for a hug. All three of them just became a choir of happy laughter as they embraced one another.

Weiss finally let her friend go to get a good look at her. “Look at you! Traveled all this way and you’re helping make dinner!? I don’t deserve you!”

“Well I saw Jaune breakout a pot and I figured he’d enjoy some help without fear of something burning.” Blake jabbed. Ruby immediately tucked her lips to stop herself from snickering at the diss.

Weiss’s jaw dropped. She still smiled however, crossing her arms. “Oh ha ha, I’ll have you know my cooking is leagues better than what you remember since last time you had it. I can cook amazing meals all by myself!”

“As long as it doesn’t involve a fryer.” Jaune added, walking over to kiss his wife’s cheek really quick.

Weiss’s face got a little flushed. “Grease is bothersome.” She mumbled. Blake could only chuckle at the remark while walking to the pot and dumping the vegetables inside. The smell of the stew intensified and reminded Weiss she is still very much the weakest in her friend group when cooking was involved. “How are you going to outdo me in my own home? Why’d you bring spices in the first place!?”

“Don’t question it!” Ruby shouted. Her body went on autopilot to grab the plates and cups for the dinner.

“Ruby, aren’t gonna make dinner at home?” The room said, thinking about Whitley.

Ruby then proceeded to grab one of Jaune’s tupperware containers. Apparently they were now feeding Whitley as well. Ruby knew they wouldn’t mind, so she felt no remorse when filling it. Her boldness knew no bonds.

“Ruby, how do you know they aren’t making enough food for the people in this house?”

“Because this household would crumble anytime Jaune did a mission and didn’t make enough food for weeks.”

“I can cook!!!!” Weiss yelled.

Jaune playfully rolled his eyes and patted Weiss’s back. “Ruby isn’t completely wrong. Anyways she can take as much as she wants. Nick and Veronica have a dinner date tonight so they won’t be joining us for dinner. Then I don’t if Summer-”

“Nick and Veronica have a date!?” Weiss and Ruby shouted.

“Oh yeah… that happened while you left.” Jaune tried to reach for the ladle for the stew but Weiss swatted his hand before turning his head back to her. Fortunately Blake swooped in to continue stirring. “Yeah so they’re going on a date tonight. I don’t know details.”

Weiss turned to Blake who shrugged. “I didn’t press Veronica too much about it. Yang should be upstairs with her trying on dresses.

“Behold! A beautiful sunflower in the snow!” Yang cried out from outside the kitchen unexpectedly.

“Or I guess she’s downstairs now.” Blake turned off the burner on the stove and moved the pot before following her friends out to the main hall. Outside was Yang standing proudly with her hands on her hips and staring up the stairs proudly. Jaune and Weiss’s eyes went wide while Winter seemed….impressed? As much as she could be. Her feelings towards Veronica in general were mixed. The girl was definitely beautiful though. That was just a fact.

Blake looked up to see her daughter all dressed up at the top of the steps. She wore a white, thin strapped dress that had a light blue sash around her waist. The skirt portion went down to about knee level and the flats she wore were also white. The bottom of the skirt brought more color in by being an intense light blue that faded to white half way up; lace snowflakes were intricately etched on to that portion to break the color up. Gloves that went just passed her elbows followed a similar scheme but started white at the hands before transitioning to blue. To top it all off, a pretty little light blue ribbon formed a bow on top of her head. It was that accessory that made Blake notice that not only wet her ears gone from sight, but so was her tail.

Veronica’s face was stricken with a decent shade of red. Her feet shuffling in place a little as she rubbed her left arm. “So….ummm thoughts?” She said anxiously. “This is just one of several ideas so no need to hold back.”

“Several? What, did you make these in a couple hours?” Winter asked.

“No. I’ve been working on a Fire and Ice collection recently. This dress in particular was already put together for the most part. Although the snowflakes at the bottom was a last minute decision I made half an hour ago.” Veronica swayed to make the skirt flow side to side. “Normally I’d say adding flames or snowflakes is a bit heavy handed since the colors of the outfit already speak fire and ice, but I don’t know. Felt appropriate. Especially since the white lace is on the blue. I even have them on the upper rim of the gloves. Made sleeve versions too.” Veronica inspected the stitching to make sure it was okay. “Hmm not my best work, but I kinda like it.”

“I kinda love it!” Yang proudly said. “Oh it takes me back to the Beacon dance a little. Back then another Schnee was outdone by a Xiao Long wearing white.”

“Ha, no! Your dress didn’t even look done!” Weiss shot back, refusing to take such slander. “This dress is ten times better than what you wore.”

Ruby nodded. “Yeah sis, your dress was pretty plain. Didn’t even have a bow.”

“I couldn’t find one!” Yang defended.

Judging by the banter, Veronica was getting positive vibes from the dress. She looked at Winter since the woman was there. Surprisingly, a thumbs up was given. “Well that was more positive than I expected from her.” Veronica thought. The only person who remained silent was Blake. Veronica turned to see her mother assessing what her daughter had on. The silence she gave made Veronica a little concerned. “What’s up mom? Not a fan of how thin the straps are? It’s not a low cut anywhere.”

“No, all that is fine. I just have to ask, why-” before Blake finished, the front door opened once again with Nick coming through it this time. Everyone froze in place by his sudden entrance. Including him!

“Uhhh why is everyone just standing in the front of the house?” Nick questioned. It was only when he looked up the left staircase did he get his answer. “Oh, that’s why. You look...wow.” He said, rather clumsily. “I didn’t think you’d get ready three hours ahead of schedule. I still gotta wash up from the grav- I mean my walk. Yeah, walk, around town. With no real location stopped at.” He had no idea why he kept saying things. The deadpanned look on Winter and Weiss’s face clearly showed they knew where he was.

Weiss gave a reassuring smile and poked his forehead. “No need to lie, especially so poorly. If talking to them brought you some form of clarity then by all means have at it.”

“Yeah it’s not my business either.” Winter added, ruffling his hair.

Veronica wasn’t exactly sure what they were discussing, but it looked like things were going well. Nick even looked like he was in a better mood then when he left. His eyes went back to Veronica and made her fidget a little. The gaze he gave her was focused, deliberate even.She didn’t know how to feel about it until Nick began to look a tad displeased. “I-Is something wrong?” Veronica asked hesitantly.

“Not wrong, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen you cover your ears. Tail yeah, since it can get in the way a bit, but why the bow?” He asked, pointing at it from afar. Everyone looked towards her for an answer, especially Blake. Nick had beaten her to the question.

Veronica looked down at her feet for a moment before looking at her family, crush, others. She never really knew what to call Weiss or her siblings. “Well normally I wouldn’t cover them, but while you were gone I kept thinking about this date…and how I wanted it to be a simple night out.” Heat began to rush to her cheeks. “So you know, people will stare and judge less if I’m like this. Not that their opinions matter, but I’d like to keep things peaceful as much as possible tonight. That’s all.” She looked at Blake who was looking right back at her. The answer didn’t seem to upset or surprise the mother. Veronica played with her a bit. “Is...that okay?”

“Hmm? You’re asking permission? It caught me off guard seeing it. Whether it be for aesthetic or personal reasons, I won’t dictate how you wanna design your clothes as long as it’s appropriate. After all, ribbons and I have a history. Couldn’t judge you if I wanted.”

That was a relief to hear. Veronica had completely forgotten her mother wasn’t a stranger to trying to blend in. “Well if that’s settled-”

“Hold on.” Nick softly said, his calm footsteps walking up the stairs to meet her. Everyone fell speechless as they watched him. Veronica for some reason felt as if the mood had changed. The room was quieter, air completely still. The face of the boy in front of her began to look more earnest than it has ever been as it got closer, stifling her breath. Nick extended his hand out slowly till his fingers clasped a corner of the bow, then unraveled it.

The ribbon flowed slowly into his palm and then was brought down towards Veronica’s. “If a calm night means you have to hide, then is it really a calm worth having? Like you said, those people don’t matter. Besides, I like your ears.”

Burst, Veronica felt like her heart could’ve burst. The blush on her cheeks deepened greatly and her eyes went wide from the shocking words. She had barely remembered to breathe. If she paid attention to the audience below then she would’ve been embarrassed by the grins that went ear to ear but no. Veronica only noticed Nick and his gentle smile that matched his words. Her mind finally caught up with itself and Veronica grasped the ribbon ever so slowly.

“O-Okay…” she said without thinking. Anybody else may have gotten more of a debate on it. Not him though. Not after words like those. “I’ll...make a few adjustments then.” She said, flattered and flustered as she walked back to her room without any more words.

“Take your time. You still have about three hours like I said, plus I gotta wash up.” He reminded her, not realizing just how sweet his words were. He turned back around to see smug faces and contained laughter. “What?”

“Nick…” Winter said, smiling with her hands on her hips. “And you wonder why girls flock to you obsessively. You’re too much.”

“I’ll say.” Blake said, admiring the boy. “But you know what? There’s something perfect about that. Nicholas, thank you.”

He wasn’t entirely sure what he did but he got embarrassed all the same, rubbing the back of his head sheepishly. At least things finally felt relaxed in this house. “Umm you’re welcome?”

With teasing done and the mood lightened, everyone went back to doing their respective things. Jaune and Blake went back to prepping food. Weiss went with Ruby to set tables and properly catch up, while Yang decided to keep Winter company since both her son and Qrow were off adventuring. The chatter filled the hallways and even reached upstairs to not only Veronica, but Summer, who finally managed to fall asleep peacefully. Even Nick found a bit of proper rest in the bath. The soothing warm water filled with epsom salt was more than enough to make him doze off. Time steadily went forward and the adults began winding down. However, the kids were just getting ready for the night.

xxxxx

Dusk finally came. Winter leaned up against the main door waiting until she saw Nick coming walking down the stairs looking dashing. His crisp white suit, ice blue tie and handkerchief were perfectly in place along with his slick back hair.

“Hey Whitley jr.”

He groaned, “Please don’t. This is why I do nothing with my hair. One minute I look like dad, then the next I’m uncle.”

“Grow it out more then.” Winter suggested.

He shook his head. “That’s a slippery slope. Too long and I’ll be compared to you, mom, and sis. I guess my face is just too great.”

“Pfft, you just know you can’t compete with all this.” Winter sassed, turning her head to sway her hair. Nick would have objected if she wasn’t right.

“Whatever hehe. Anyways, everybody still here?”

“No, Ruby eventually headed home, but everyone else is strung about. I’m heading out myself but I figured I could drop you and Veronica off for your date.”

Nick gave her aunt a huge smile. “Awww, auntie!”

“Oh hush, don’t make it a big deal. It’s convenient, that’s all.”

“Well I appreciate it nonetheless. Veronica will too.”

Winter mumbled,“She better show it by not getting you or sister into trouble.”

“I heard that.” Veronica called from up the staircase. Winter and Nick looked in that direction to see her walking down. Nick wasn’t prepared.

Veronica had switched the gloves out for detachable sleeves that still exposed her shoulders. They also followed the same white to blue pattern. What really changed was she used the ribbon to make a high ponytail and now dawning jewelry. A pearl white necklace rested around her neck and complemented the pearl earrings she wore. Slowly she approached Nick with her hands holding each other in front of her. Veronica’s face was still a healthy shade of red. This close, Nick couldn’t help but smell of peach nectar. An interesting and oddly refreshing choice for perfume.

“Well...ummm...you weren’t kidding when you said you would out dress me.” Nick said, captivated. “I’d say you’re one billion, easily.”

Veronica chuckled nervously. “Hehe,th...thanks. I wouldn’t go that far, but I appreciate it.” Looking at him was harder than usual. Men’s dress shoes had a bit of heel, so Nick actually was a bit taller then her now since she chose flats. It could only be by an inch or two but it made a hell of a difference to her. “I had a little help near the end. These are actually your sister’s pearls.”

“Really? Oh, that’s right! I think the only reason she got them was so this other rude girl couldn’t. I don’t remember the specifics.”

“Wow. You two are….extremely petty at times.” Veronica said. Yeah pettiness was nothing new to her, but she’d never bought something to spite someone else. That’s the lifestyle in Atlas she supposed. “Anyways, if you’re ready to go then I am too. I’d really like to avoid-”

Click! The sound of a camera cut her off. The two teens looked back to see their parents all taking photos. Trying to stop them would be impossible. The only thing they could do is quietly wait for the clicking to stop, which was thankfully over in seconds.

“Gee I didn’t realize I lived with paparazzi.” Nick quipped. Another flash came from up above the second floor. Summer and her bed head leaned against the railing. “Summer!? You too!?”

“I came down to eat and saw we were embarrassing you. How could I not?” She took one more photo and then made her way down to the kitchen. “Have fun. I’m gonna eat and go right back to bed.”

Nick knew she was lying of course. That was the real reason she came down now, to announce she’d be sleeping in her room so nobody would disturb her. Summer, never missing an opening, also collected everything she needed from upstairs without anyone noticing. It was scary how far she’d plan ahead sometimes.

Winter finally decided to open the front door and head out. “Let’s move people. Rich or not, it’s rude to be late for reservations.”

“So strict. Almost think that you’re about to go drill instructor on me.” Veronica jokes, walking out the door.

“Don’t think I won’t make you drop and give me twenty just because you’re in a dress.” Winter shot back, closing the door as Nick walked out.

“The sad thing is she isn’t kidding…” Weiss nervously said. “That’s gonna be a long car ride.”

Summer came out of the kitchen with a bowl of stew and an evil look in her eye. “Why are there less left overs than usual? Who had seconds?”

“Ruby took some for Whitley. As well as had seconds…”

Summer squinted as if Ruby was there to actually receive the grumpy look before putts spoonful in her mouth and walking back upstairs.

“Ma’am, the table. Not your room.” Weiss said, using her mom voice.

Summer did a heel turn to the dining room. “Who made this stew!?” She said annoyed. Jaune and Blake both raised their hands. “It’s fantastic!” Was all she said as she continued walking.

Blake and Yang looked at each other confused before looking at their friends.

“Hangry.” Was all Jaune said.

“Ah…” the couple said together.

The moment Summer was out of sight from everyone she put the bowl down and searched around the living room quickly until she found her guitar case. Quickly, she grabbed it and opened a window towards the side of the estate and tossed it on a set of glyphs that hopefully propelled it right into her open room window. She then ran back to the dining room to sit down and eat comfortably.

“Phew! That was the last thing. And now I wait.” She took another bite of the stew happily. Nothing tastes better than an escape plan coming together.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, Present Mic x Reader, a sprinkling of Erasermic and eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Some explicitness towards the end

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 11/16 (all chapters)

Hizashi was used to staying awake long into the morning. He was also used to sharing his bed with one night stands.

For some reason, though, something felt different about it when it was you.

He had been tired from sex and relaxed from the bathtub, yet when he laid beside you he couldn’t look away, much less sleep. After your long soak together, he had gotten you an oversized shirt to wear from his wardrobe and stroked your hair until you fell asleep.

Even then, wearing nothing but a shirt with his face on, you still reminded him of a kitten.

He considered it as you took the train back to your place, watching your reflection in the windows. Every so often you stifled yawns and scratched your eyes, the steady rhythm of the train carriage lulling you into sleep. You rested your head on his shoulder without meaning to, only to jump start awake whenever the train came to a stop.

You looked so innocent while you slept and he couldn’t believe he had slept with you only a matter of hours before this. It was possibly the furthest thing from his mind when he left the restaurant to find you, let alone when he got dressed to go out.

He wanted to discuss it with you while it was still fresh in your minds. It had been a long day for everyone and he didn’t doubt that the next one would be longer, but what had happened between you was too important to leave buried between the sheets.

He reached out for your arm as you got to your stop, oddly concerned that you would fall asleep on your feet. You blushed at the contact though didn’t shrug him off, cheeks still peppered with colour as you unlocked your front door.

Hizashi had never been to your apartment before and didn’t know what to expect, his curiosity on the matter giving him a new lease of life.

“I’ll make some tea,” you said, pointing out a dinner table and couch, “make yourself at home.”

Hizashi didn’t sit down. Instead, while you pottered around in the kitchen, he took the chance to look around, leaning over to examine the photographs on your walls and bookshelves.

“Is this you?” he asked, picking up a particular frame.

“Oh,” you glanced across. “Yes, haha. It was taken a long time ago, though!”

It was a photograph of a younger looking you at your high school graduation, standing with your mother, father and older brother. Hizashi hadn’t given much thought to what your family might be like, only that the photograph in his hand didn’t match the image in his mind. Your father was tall and broad shouldered, with cold, searching eyes. Your mother was slight and had clearly been beautiful in her youth, though she glared out at the camera as if whoever took the photograph had gravely insulted her. Your brother was the perfect combination of them both, handsome and tall, with a sharp jawline and serious expression. He had on a perfectly tailored suit and held his arms behind his back, rigidly standing up straight as if someone had given him a forceful boot to the rear seconds before taking the photo.

There was no warmth in any of them, not even you. You stood as rigidly as they did, positioned between your mother and father like a hostage. Hizashi glanced back at the person rummaging through the cupboards for cups and then at the photograph, trying and failing to match up the girl in the picture to the one he knew.

“Now then,” you said, resting a tea tray on your kitchen table and pouring two cups, “about...earlier..”

He set down the photograph and joined you at the table, accepting the cup you held out to him.

“I...ummm...Where would you like to go from here?”

He scratched his moustache out of habit, searching his brain for the right words. An hour or so ago, he wouldn’t have been so sure of his answer, but now that the dust had settled only one outcome made sense.

“Nowhere.”

He didn’t miss the flash of panic in your eyes, a moment of self doubt that you might have done something wrong, and reached out to touch your hand across the table.

“Don’t think too much about it,” he said. “It’s just...you said you forgot who you were outside of your old relationship, right?”

You nodded.

“It wouldn’t be right for me to push you into one now,” he said. “I want you at nothing less than 100%. 25% (Name) is a hottie. 100% (Name)...”

He sucked in a deep breath and reached out his hands, framing your face in his fingers.

“...100% (Name) should have a warning label,” he said. “And, hey, after that performance? I’d say you’re well on your way to 30%.”

You spat out your tea at that.

“Wait, wait, wait,” you said. “All I get is 5% ? How many guys do I have to sleep with to get to 100?”

“They don’t have to be different guys,” he said, waggling his eyebrows. “Could be the same guy over and over .”

“You’re terrible.”

“You’re cute.”

“You...are giving me really mixed signals right now.”

He smirked and took a sip of tea, silently acknowledging that you had a point.

“Tomorrow,” he said, “well...in a few hours...I won’t mention it again unless you do.”

“Like... a reset?”

You said it as if it had significance, though he didn’t know why.

“Yes, yes,” he said, “exactly like a reset!”

You laughed bitterly and for a moment he wondered if he’d said the wrong thing. It lasted only a moment, though, and you set down your cup with a smile.

“A reset sounds good,” you said, though the smile didn’t quite meet your eyes.

~~~~

He stayed a while longer, engaging in small talk as he finished off his tea.

He reached into his pockets as he got to his feet, dragging out his hair band and tidying up his bun. It was early, sure, but if Nemuri was right and the media really were on high alert, the last thing he wanted was photos of him looking so tired in mass circulation.

He stretched out the band, only to curse as it snapped.

“Hey, (Name),” he said. “Do you have any hair ties?”

You poked your head around the kitchen door, midway through running the tap.

“Uhhh...sure...I usually keep some in my bedroom cupboard,” you said. “Help yourself, it’s just through there.”

“Thank you,” he said, following your directions into the bedroom and realising the flaw in your instructions within seconds. You had mentioned them being in your bedroom cupboard, though hadn’t specified which one.

He opened the one nearest your bed, then the one nearest your window, all to no avail.

Maybe he had misheard you?

He opened your wardrobe door, going over your directions and struggling to think of a single misunderstanding.

“(Name),” he called out, “wh------”

He fell silent, noticing a familiar flash of colour.

No. No, surely not…

He pulled out the dress, stomach falling through the floor.

It couldn’t be. It had to be a mistake.

“Having fun?” you asked, poking your head through the door.

“This dress,” he said, “it’s l-lovely. You have excellent taste.”

“You think so? I was thinking of getting rid of it.”

“Really?”

“Yeah,” you said, stroking the fabric with a fond expression. “I hooked up with a guy the only time I ever wore it and I can’t look at it now without thinking of him.”

He had to be wrong. He had to be.

He thought back to your first day, the conversation you had had in the izakaya.

I was seeing someone. We were together for years, actually, but we broke up a little over six months ago.

His mouth ran dry as he remembered the conversation he had had with the bartender at Ego .

She was here about six months ago. Had drinks with Eraser. I was hoping you’d remember her.

It had to be a coincidence. There were hundreds of single women in Musutafu, any of whom could have bought the same dress.

“Oh, did...did you go anywhere nice?”

“My friends dragged me along to a nightclub in town,” you said, blushing luridly. “ Ego .”

You looked up into his face the moment you said it, suddenly looking more than a little bit concerned.

“Are you okay? You’ve gone really pale.”

You reached up to touch a hand to his forehead and he flinched without meaning to.

It was the hand Shouta had reached for; one that had almost certainly explored his body.

“I...I’m fine,” he stammered, thrusting the dress back towards you. “It’s a nice dress, you should keep it! Okay, then, bye!”

He rushed out of your bedroom and through the front door before you could say another word, forgetting all about his broken hair tie and even the incident at Hosu. He caught the train on autopilot, watching and rewatching the video on his phone of Shouta and the woman from Ego . Now that he knew it was you, he couldn’t believe he hadn’t noticed earlier. Your posture, the way the dress clung to your body...there was no one else it could have been.

He remembered your moans of pleasure and how good it had felt to be inside you, unable to distract himself from his own morbid curiosity. He couldn’t stop thinking about it, dozens of scenarios coming to mind and all of them involving you and Shouta naked.

He imagined Shouta’s lips on yours; your sigh of pleasure as you took his cock.

He switched off the video and loaded music instead, trying to drown out the niggling thought at the back of his mind.

He was jealous, though had no idea which of you he envied more.