#at least i got to finally watch the shinning on the actual new years

[woodlandstarz13]

celebrating new years with the boys <3

[gillianthecat]

I have got to get over my grudge against face filters or face-tuning or whatever it's called when they blur the actor's face so their skin is completely smooth and texture free and very pale and has no dimensionality.

I'm watching Light On Me, and I'm charmed by all the characters, but I keep getting distracted by the fact that none of them look like human beings. grrr. Like, it kind of fits the comic book tropey-ness of the story, but I still would prefer to see their god danged faces.

(Fun fact: Shin Woo's actor's face is the reason I started watching Light On Me in the first place. Kang Yoo Soek has a small part in Beyond Evil, and within a minute of his appearance on screen I was like, who is THAT???👀, and immediately went to MDL to see what else he was in. Turns out he was in a BL! so I decided it was finally time to check this one out. Maybe I'm just resentful about them hiding his face from me. On the other hand, Beyond Evil and Light On Me are from the same year, and he looks a decade younger in the latter, so I guess the filtering helps with that? idk, I'd prefer everyone's real faces. But I realize that with this, as in many things, I am not the target audience.)

My thoughts on Light On Me so far (im on episode 3 oops, actually it was 4): It feels like a high school romance comic book aimed at 12 year olds come to life. Which is not at all a criticism! But the aesthetic—bright, flat lighting, wide open spaces, saturated pastels and primary colors, the aforementioned face filtering—along with the trope filled, bare bones nature of the story give it this artificial feel. I don't read comic books, manga or manwha of any genre, so I could be wrong in this comparison, but it does tell like it exists outside of the real world in the same way that Disney Channel kids shows do (though not in the same world.) The characters, so far, don't feel like they exist outside of the story, not shallow, exactly, just that the rest of their lives and relationships are a vague blur, and the initial conflict—Shin Woo doesn't want Tae Kyung to join the student council!—feels like the sort of artificially induced high stakes of a kid's show. The—gasp—pratfall with a dildo.

I probably sound judgmental, but that's partly because super fluffy shows aren't my thing in general, and partly because I'm in a weird mood right now where even the real world doesn't feel all that real to me, but I reiterate, this is not a criticism. The show is creating a certain feel to tell a certain story, and (so far at least) it's doing it effectively.

And I am intrigued by the story, and the characters! Tae Kyung who has been convinced by the wise teacher to try making friends. Da On, the student president who is so kind and can't say no to anyone. Shiwoon, the class clown who can see what's happening but won't get involved. So Hee, the girl from the sister school, persistent in her three year (!) crush. And of course tsundere Shin Woo, possibly with some internalized homophobia, and who we know, based on Shiwoon's hints and the laws of Romance Tropes, must have a crush on the new boy and can't handle it.

The taundere seme is a trope I love when it works well, and loathe when it's bad, and I think it's working here for me because Tae Kyung is such a weirdo. He's no blushing maiden uke, he's blunt and doesn't care that's he's awkward, and still not sure if he wants to even bother with other human beings. It makes Shin Woo's attraction to him more specific and real, and makes me curious to see how their dynamic develops.

So even though the character don't feel anchored to any reality outside of what we see on screen, in the small slice of a tv world they do exist in they seem complex and worth getting to know.

(They also intrigue me enough that part of me wants to see these same characters and conflicts, but framed in more gritty realism style, like that of Weak Hero Class One. I think there's enough there to make it work! But that's more about my personal taste than anything else.)

edit: not that Weak Hero Class One is exactly realistic. But it's a different kind of fairy tale atmosphere. One that sometimes gets called "gritty realism."

[lorz-ix]

Japanese nerd stuff

Shin Kamen Rider (2023)

Out of Hideaki Anno's recent projects, I had already seen Shin Godzilla and the last Evangelion movie, and I thought those were amazing, so my expectations for Kamen Rider were positively through the roof. I have now learned a lesson, because those expectations might have been unfairly high.

This is a gorgeous movie, first things first. Some of the computer-generated effects are pretty poor, a letdown for sure since they blemish what would otherwise be peak visuals, but the costume/character design is fantastic, the cinematography is certainly pretty, and the vibes of the Showa era are unmatched here. Really makes me wish they used a lot more practical effects to match the characters and the setting of the original show with just as much love and care.

A highlight that I really liked was the battle against Hiromi, the hornet lady. The special effects weren't bad and the choreography really sold the superpowered, high speed level these characters are fighting at. Easily my favorite fight, if that's what you're looking for.

As for the story itself, you really get the feeling that it's too complicated for its own good, mostly because there's a lot of villains to get through and a lot of exposition to be dumped, so everything feels very rushed and too fast-paced. It's kinda weird that they tried to cram what feels like a short TV series into a cinematic run time, because the structure doesn't entirely feel adequate. At least the second half of the movie has more proper pacing, since by then the main antagonist has already been introduced and the final stretch of the conflict is clearly underway, so it has more time to breathe.

Speaking of said conflict, the morals at the core of this movie, they also let me down a little bit. I love seeing clear, optimistic messages, but coming from Evangelion and Godzilla, I felt that Kamen Rider's message fell flat, feeling a bit vapid, or perhaps rooted in story elements that are too fantastical, so it's a bit more detached from the audience. I'm not sure how to put it into words, I simply thought the other two movies did their stuff better.

In conclusion, it's a fun watch, but probably not as accessible, and not as impressive as other Anno productions.

Shin Godzilla (2016)

I immediately wanted to watch this one again, to sort out my feelings on Kamen Rider, to make sure that I really liked Godzilla as much as I did, and yeah, sure. I still adore it. It's still a very easy top 3 Godzilla flick.

Much more has been said about it much better than I ever could, so I'll be brief. Godzilla is perfectly reimagined as this Anno-esque religious symbol and as a brand new social metaphor that was very relevant for Japan at the time. The political commentary is wonderfully unsubtle, and the message is both clear and grounded. The monster is absolutely terrifying, at points feeling chillingly real. I felt the dread of these events like they could actually happen more than with any other kaiju production, not because I expect a fire-breathing dinosaur to appear anytime soon, but because in here, Godzilla is a very clear embodiment of things that already happen constantly, both because of war, and because of natural disasters, the latter of which being more relevant here.

The one thing that could make this movie "fall off" is that its appeal and commentary are very specific. The movie jumps straight into the action and doesn't tell as much of a dramatic story around people as much as it's trying to say something both critical and inspirational about humanity. Perhaps the fact that it was inspired by the Fukushima disaster will mean it will be less timeless than those inspired by the atomic bomb, but only time will tell.

Godzilla Minus One (2023)

Boy am I overjoyed that I got to see this in cinemas before the end of the year. This was very unlike Shin Godzilla, but it's easily at least on the same level, in my humble opinion. Minus One, Shin, and the 1954 original are arguably equally strong contenders to the throne of the best entry in the longest running movie franchise.

Unlike Shin, this is a dramatic story very focused on specific people, while also mantaining an extremely strong message about humanity coming together to overcome adversity. Relatively simple on paper, but the execution has shining moments that had me even crying at times. In post-war Japan, a country humiliated by defeat, the worst has already passed, leaving behind broken people and the hope to rebuild what was lost. The collective trauma of war, loss, and survivor's guilt are all addressed, and then, a massive creature threatens to tear down any hopes for the future and make the country re-live the horrors of war.

As I grow older, I have come to adore media that's able to just speak the message out loud with very little subtlety. Interpretation is fun, I won't dismiss more complicated movies as pretentious, but I am aware of how many people miss, ignore or even misread the morals of many popular movies. So when something comes along with an openly positive message with very little room for interpretation, I kinda love it. The lack of restraint isn't necessarily bad.

That said, there was still some dumbass behind us at the cinema who was mad at the ending because he took the movie completely at face value and somehow still missed what it was trying to say. So leave it to that one smart loser we all know to look like the biggest fool, because they still got it wrong. I don't know.

[eriexplosion]

My reward for getting my new apartment keys is finally getting to watch Ahsoka and I'm still just. So utterly delighted by Ezra's entire presence.

Saying "SHE DID? WHY?" to Sabine revealing that Ahsoka was training her absolutely fucking sent me into orbit. I love him so much.

THREEPIO SHOWING UP <3 He was a breath of fresh air after how mad THESE PEOPLE MAKE ME. Truly the New Republic is dedicated to doing the Least at every given opportunity.

Seriously never will they stand accused of doing anything remotely helpful.

I love Anakin's training holograms, and of course he left them behind Just In Case. I'm sure that he saw how hard Obi-Wan struggled immediately after losing Qui-Gon, I am convinced that the thought of doing the same to Ahsoka one day Haunted him. Of course, the circumstances he could never have predicted, but...

Every time I see the Noti I squeal they're so fucking cute look at those little GUYS.

Okay Baylan leaving Shin behind got me Emotional. He sounds so wistful telling her to take her place in the coming Empire. Proud of her but also sad. Whatever he's planning will probably render this galaxy obsolete either destroying her with everyone else or making it so she never existed depending on what path this takes, but he does care about her.

Makes me wonder how this plays into the overall themes - he cares about her, but is able to detach from that for what he thinks is the greater good. I wonder if he ever did think about letting go of this plan that seems to be years in the making, considered letting himself find actual fulfillment in being a master and teaching his padawan, only to make himself pull away from it for the good of the overall plan. Versus Sabine going after Ezra no matter what, because saving your loved ones over everything has been baked into Star Wars ever since Luke fucked off to save Han and Leia purely because he cared about them.

This is swimming in something approaching coherency but hasn't quite gotten there yet. I'm just emotional about the wars in the stars again and absolutely fucked up about how much I like Baylan as a character.

I love Sabine's reaction to Shin being just. *SIGHS* THIS LADY AGAIN. I want them to try and stab each other again and then Kiss.

No need to land! Oh not this again... YES THIS AGAIN. Ahsoka really is her master's apprentice.

GOD THE LITTLE FIGHT BETWEEN EZRA AND SABINE OVER WHO TAKES THE LIGHTSABER IS SO FUNNY. He's right though. He very much did not need it. I guess when you have nothing to do for a decade but train in weaponless fighting you Git Gud real fast.

I loveeee the effect on the lightsaber when he blocks it just with the force.

Ahsoka really swooped in like YOU ARE LIKE LITTLE BABY WATCH THIS and kicked Shin's scrawny ass huh

Ten seconds later she's offering to help her like trying to rescue a hissy kitten she found in the garbage. I love Ahsoka <3

GODDD THE WAY SHE HAS OPENED UP THOUGH. MY GIRLLLLLL.

Ezra holding the little Noti's hand's got me squealy I cannot fucking take these little crab babies.

HEY BAYLAN YOU HAVE ONE EPISODE LEFT I HOPE YOU PLAN TO EXPLAIN YOURSELF AT SOME POINT DURING IT.

[astoundingbeyondbelief]

Kaiju Week in Review (October 30-November 5, 2022)

This week actually brought more news than I was expecting... and I was expecting a lot!

Takashi Yamazaki will direct—or rather, has been directing—the next live-action Toho Godzilla film, which started shooting in March under the working title Blockbuster Monster Movie. (Gigant called it!) He also wrote the script and will supervise the visual effects, a level of control never before afforded a Godzilla director. Yamazaki previously directed the King of the Monsters in the cold open for Always: Sunset on Third Street 2 and the Godzilla the Ride: Giant Monsters Ultimate Battle attraction, but he's also been extremely prolific as a director of visually extravagant genre movies, including Returner, Space Battleship Yamato, the live-action Parasyte films, and Lupin III: The First.

Little is known about the story, save for the time period: early postwar Japan, specified in a casting call as 1945-47. That's rare territory for a Godzilla story. I believe Godzilla: Awakening is the only other example, and that was a globe-trotting adventure in which the Big G never set foot on Japanese soil. So it promises to be something truly fresh for his 69th anniversary. Nice.

The main attraction of Toho's Godzilla Fest livestream was the event's third tokusatsu short, Fest Godzilla 3: Gigan Attacks. These things get better every year; compared to Godzilla vs. Hedorah, Gigan Attacks had a bigger set, a new suit for the enemy monster and a much nicer-looking suit for Godzilla, sharper fight choreography, and more intricate VFX. If they keep getting longer too, maybe Toho will accidentally make another tokusatsu feature by the 2030s.

For the next few days, you can watch it on YouTube here (starts at 6:57:00 and is followed by a ton of behind-the-scenes footage). After the archived stream gets banished, find it on archive.org.

I kind of love when animation makes kaiju lighter and bouncier than they should be for the sake of slicker fight scenes, and the other Godzilla Fest short, Godzilla vs. Gigan Rex, certainly delivered on that front. And if you've always wanted Toho to revisit the Heisei continuity, there are a few hints that this Godzilla is Junior, including the long-overdue return of Megumi Odaka as the narrator. (As a Wikizilla bureaucrat, I am obligated to add that these are only hints, akin to the way IDW's Godzilla comics will sometimes allude to the films without officially being in continuity with them.) Assuming this is Junior, he certainly does his old man proud.

An onslaught of new Movie Monster Series figures were revealed this week: Godzilla '84, Gamera '96, two Shin Ultraman variants, Zarab's Ultraman disguise, and Mefilas. A site called Awesome Collector also opened preorders for Manda '04, Baragon '65, Ebirah '66, Hedorah '04, Godzilla '04, and King Ghidorah '91, due in February or March 2023. No images for them yet, but they foretold the MMS Salunga figure in the past. Finally, Showcase Daikaiju claims that the Godziban versions of Rodan and Anguirus will be shipping out next month. I'm more excited for those than the ones we got total confirmation of, to be honest. Though the Godzilla '84 looks more on-model than my NECA...

Oh yeah, there's an S.H.MonsterArts of the original Gigan on the way too. Not my thing, but nice to see them remember the Showa era exists.

Buried in a Hollywood Reporter article about Blockbuster Monster Movie is the revelation that Godzilla Island will be coming to the English Godzilla YouTube channel (GODZILLA OFFICIAL by TOHO) later this month. Yes, the one from the late 90s where Bandai toys portray all the monsters. This will be its first official English translation; as someone who's watched the whole thing raw, I'm excited to finally learn what the hell's happening in some of those story arcs. The special effects are the least wild part of the show, truly.

Netflix released a full trailer for Troll which looks pretty spectacular; I did not realize the film had this much money to play with. Roar Uthaug (The Wave, the Tomb Raider remake) is the director. It's always nice to see another giant monster movie set in Europe—how many have there been since the glory days of Reptilicus, Konga, and Gorgo? Okay, maybe "Konga" and "glory days" don't belong anywhere near each other... the point stands.

O'Shea Jackson Jr. has been writing the pilot script for a G-Team animated series with Toho Kingdom media relations director Chris Mirjahangir. (In case you forgot, that's Monarch's military branch, callously discarded in Godzilla vs. Kong like most of the world-building in King of the Monsters; Jackson played Barnes.) No story details yet, beyond plans to include Biollante and Gigan. Bear in mind this is far from a done deal; the strategy seems to be going public early to convince Toho and Legendary the demand is there.

Fathom Events screenings of Godzilla Against Mechagodzilla grossed $335,000 from 727 theaters on Thursday, good for fifth place that day. Apart from the introduction by Chief Godzilla Officer Keiji Ota (who I hear was very wooden), Fathom included last year's Godzilla vs. Hedorah short and some behind-the-scenes footage of said short which I'm not sure has ever been released before. Thankfully, a couple people recorded that part.

The film itself had some frame rate issues, at least at certain theaters. The video quality also apparently dropped off whenever there were any English supers. The subtitles used the (superior) script from the old TriStar DVD, though a handful of typos suggested they were retyped. Still, people seemed thrilled at getting to catch a Toho Godzilla movie in theaters, and I can't blame them (G-Fest has spoiled me rotten).

Evangelion Unit-01 has officially arrived in Godzilla Battle Line, with the Fourth Angel (called Sachiel in the original show) to follow mid-month. She's armed with a Gatling gun and a few neat abilities, like an AT field reducing the damage she takes while she's rushing and resistance to self-destructing units like Burning Godzilla and Zetton. Be forewarned that Shinji screams in agony whenever an Eva Leader loses a match. Battle Line also gave Kiryu an Evangelion skin—and the ability to evolve into the Modified version from Tokyo S.O.S. after being defeated twice in a match. Also, GigaBash released a teaser for their upcoming Godzilla DLC, and announced that three more Toho monsters would join the game as well. Be sure to feign surprise when they turn out to be King Ghidorah, Mechagodzilla, and Mothra.

I'll close with yet another plug for another kaiju obscurity brought to light by @spacehunter-m. This one's the 1958 German version of Godzilla Raids Again with English subtitles. It's a more straightforward dub than Gigantis; no banana oil, fire monsters, or unrelenting narration in this one. It also looks better than the HD transfer Toho has been trotting out for years, despite being in SD!

[shocotate]

Live Action Movie 2 Ramble

Here’s stuff I wrote while watching the second live action movie. My more articulate ramble about the first movie is here (back in 2018, I have not watched it again before watching these two), and my ramble about movie 3 is here.

WB's new logo is disgusting, but at least it’ll help people remember that Netflix didn’t make this.

Golio is here, I guess it might as well use something from Scar's reintroduction to speed things along. In the anime he was killed way earlier back in episode 15, when in the manga he was killed while Ed was away in Resembool

The water titles were an interesting choice

Ling has devoured the apple pie. I guess it makes more sense him going to Central on a train than somehow ending up dead in Rush valley. Boy better be careful though or else he’ll be getting arrested for no passport even sooner.

These god damn subs. Shin = Xing, add that G there. Rin = NO G HERE CERTAINLY NOT. Lin Yao strikes again.

Ed about to bring the northern chokeout on Lan Fan but then she blew up the train so.

Glad Envy got his topup

Well that's something

This shit with Roy and Bald doesn’t matter when he’s already wasted two homunculi last movie. At least with Lust dead already Havoc’s lighter is safe.

May Chang gets her G in the subs, but Shao May’s CGI is scaring me.

Alex’s hair is too funny my god

No Scar don’t go underground, unlike East City there’s actually stuff down there in Central

Boroboro dana oretachi OH HE SAID IT sorry I’m losing my mind from hearing that every time the mobile game starts �� DEMO IKKITERU, AA, IKKITERU, start singing Nana Mizuki he said it.

Despite being Ed and Al’s escort in place of Ross, Falman couldn’t make it to the group shot. Hope he’s ok.

He’s in the next scene he’s ok.

Damn they’ve moved Ishval down the map, time for Resembool to be the real crest of blood spot here

Marcoh’s dead so there will be no diversions on the way to Resembool, right?

Three faction sewer fight lets go

As far as Wrath saying he saw Edward to his family, I think going on the rollercoaster train is pretty impressive, but I guess seeing Edward on a place he was already going works too.

They finally let Hoho say that Ed is the smallest state alchemist in history.

I was expecting a impressive one handed hair braiding but hair down Ed is fine.

I haven’t seen Alphonse in a while, did he get left at Central

At least they got Xerxes right, must have watched 300 before this…

Ed’s leaving the country alone, mad lad. No Alex and Breda kidnap for him.

*forgets to write anything for a while*

Edward doing the finger gun pose was kinda endearing

Only 40 offspring of the emperor? Has there been a culling or are some yet to be born, those later clans are screwed in the battle.

Edward asking the real questions of how can Ling become emperor if the plan is the make the emperor immortal. Finally. We know Ling does become emperor within only 2 years so maybe his coup plan happened

I can’t remember if Al could always do clappy alchemy in this because he’s older, or he just can now.

Collateral damage out of control, rip those dudes

I like how Ed blocked the hammer of the gun with his finger when trying to convince Winry to put down the gun, that’s actually clever of him to do.

I thought it was arm-doggo but it was actually envy-doggo. You’ve fooled me once, movie, it won’t happen again

Winry can’t leave yet, what about the tiny screw. Also there’s like 50 minutes left of this movie and I know where it ends, how are they gonna stretch this out.

Arm dog is here, and what a stray dog to have. Find that on the street and you’re winning.

I wonder where Fu is

I wonder where Shao May is.

Oh she’s here now.

Winry gets to use her hands of healing on Lan Fan, that’s kinda neat to give Knox, or whoever this is, some backup.

Headbandage Ed the best Ed of all is now here. I didn’t see him get the headwound but I guess it happened.

Wrath gets a solo flashback with Father (unless it’s not a flashback, explaining why Envy and Gluttony aren’t there). The anime took Father out of it, so this one of just Wrath and Father is the same as the psp game. The full manga version stays unadapted, until the mobile game does it, if it does.

Hughes is back, yay, also good to adapt scenes the anime didn’t in the flashback.

UM Riza said “Mustang-san” not Major Mustang. These subs I swear…

Shao May and May reunion, guess she has no reason to go underground now. Also shao may has no eyes, I don’t like that.

What about Gluttony, is he just gonna stew for days.

I’m liking Ed’s penchant for attempted murder with his very dangerous attacks, I hope he will continue, and make it happen where it counts. Gimme this one, plz.

Winry again, stop interrupting Scar and Ed fighting. Oh we’re doing the north thing – but I know Olivier is in the next one so—

Winry’s parents force ghosts what

We’ve got 15 minutes left get in Gluttony’s belly already. If I had my way we wouldn't even be going in there since Ed already knows Al’s body exists from the last movie, but we have that big envy model and damn it needs some use.

Ok gluttony is here now and he’s doing the sloth run. Oh no roy has a tiny cut on his outer leg

Scar protecc, Scar attacc, and most importantly, holds Gluttony bacc

Horse Envy is here now. I wish he’d have talked first though as a horse. Loves me some Mr Ed

Father will be big mad

Al held out his arm but his arm survives, interesting choice.

Fire in the belly dimension when gluttony swallowed no fire. oh no no no.

The punch doesn’t go as well without Ed asking about Ishval bro.

Noo Envy cgi is like all slimy, no nooo

To Be Continued...

[whatisthiswritingthing]

I’m Ready - Emily Sonnett x Reader

Prompt: Where R is a single foster parent and it got me thinking.

R has not had a placement for awhile (but still has her foster license) and Sonnett planed the date to ask R to move in with her but when she ask R, R was shocked and telling Sonnett that she doesn’t think it will be a good idea because of her being a foster parent and could get a call at any given time and Sonnett telling R that she does not care and would like to help her out. Then R gets the call for a placement and has to leave the date but Sonnett get up with her and basically like I am going with you and you can’t stop me. When they get to the hospital R sees how gentle and soft Sonnett is with the baby and tells her that yes they will move in her.

Where the R is a single foster parent ( been for a while before they started to date) and while Sonnett and R is on a date and R gets a call about a foster placement (a 3 month old baby) and feels bad for leaving the date but Sonnett insist on coming her and helping her out. But when she founds out that it’s a baby sonnett gets so nervous and scared.

Note, couple prompt rolled into one here. 

“She didn’t say anything when you asked?” Kelley asked from the couch, watching Sonnett pace back and forth through the living room, stopping occasionally to randomly adjust everything that was already perfectly in place.

“I didn’t even get a chance!” the blonde turned around quickly, throwing her hands up.

“What do you mean?” the defender tilted her head to the side, Emily flopping her hands back to her sides and beginning to move throughout the room, “slow down and explain what happened.”

Emily sighed, moving to perch on the edge of arm of the couch. Biting the edge of her thumb, she fidgeted with the hem of her shirt, “I don’t know,” she shrugged defeated, “we had plans last night, she seemed like she was really looking forward to it. I picked her up, she looked gorgeous,” a small smile on her face, dropping as she continued, “the night was great, dinner was romantic, we were every gross romantic cliché. Then on our walk, I got nervous, and I couldn’t get the words out.”

Kelley moved to the blonde, rubbing a soothing hand up and down her back, encouraging her to continue, tugging the thumb away from her teeth, squeezing her hand.

“And she was so sweet about it, said I could talk to her about anything, she had pulled me to the side of the path, held both my hands and just gave me the softest smile,” she paused, smiling softly while she thought about the night before, “then I don’t know what happened. I finally got the nerve to start asking and she got all weird and said she needed to go and bolted.”

Having sat long enough, the defender got up and began pacing the room again. Kelley furrowed her brow, confused at how quickly Y/N had changed on the date the night before. Y/N was always so patient with the blonde, giving her the opportunity to explain herself, reassuring her when she was anxious about how she worded things.

“Have you guys talked since?”

Sonnett shook her head sadly, “I tried to call her last night, but she didn’t answer and I sent a couple texts, nothing there either.”

Kelley got up and pulled the blonde into a hug, “I’m sorry Em.”

Emily struggled in the hold for a second before collapsing into it and allowing the hug, “maybe this means she isn’t interested in long term,” she mumbled into the brunette’s neck.

“You guys have been together for two years, she requested a trade to Washington just to be with you,” Kelley squeezed her, “do you really think she isn’t serious about this?”

She shrugged meekly in the hug.

“See if she says anything at practice this afternoon. Don’t overthink yourself too far before you know what to overthink.”

Sonnett just shrugged again, tugging herself away, fumbling around the apartment, picking up her equipment, “let’s get to training then.”

Practice was about to start, but Y/N had yet to show up.

“Sonnett, where’s Y/L/N?” Burke called, looking around the field.

“I’m not her keeper,” the blonde grunted out, before her eyes went wide, “sorry coach, I’m not sure where she is today.”

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry!” Y/N called as she rushed out to the field, one cleat on, hoping on one foot while she struggled to pull the other on while still moving, shin guards tucked under arms, “It will never happen again, I’m so sorry Coach.”

Burke gave her a hard look, motioning for everyone to focus up and began his pre-practice talk. Y/N crashed down hard, having tripped over her untied cleat, “fuck,” she tugged the other cleat on.

Sonnett watched on as Y/N spoke with Burke after the meeting off to the side. Burke nodded along, smiling as Y/N spoke, giving her a pat on the back as the soccer player jogged away.

The rest of practice Y/N seemed distracted, constantly glancing over to the trainers on the sideline.

“You good?” Emily stood next to her at a water break, concerned for how different her girlfriend seemed during practice.

She never got a response as one of the trainers called Y/N’s name, motioning to the cell phone in her hand, and she took off. The blonde watched as Y/N answered the phone, walking away and beginning to pace the sideline, plugging a finger in her ear when the whistle blew.

“What’s that all about?” Kelley asked the blonde.

“I don’t know,” Sonnett tracked her girlfriend, noting how frustrated she was getting on the call.

Practice resumed, Y/N joining again at some point, more distracted than before.

“We’ve got to talk,” Kelley shoved the soccer player down the hall after practice, pushing her away from the change room.

“Kel, I don’t have time for this,” Y/N pulled her arm out of Kelley’s grasp, working to make her way back towards the change room.

“No, you have time,” Kelley tightened her hold, keeping Y/N in place.

Y/N released a sigh, tilting her chin to the brunette, waiting for her to continue.

“Do you love Emily, or are you just with her for the fun of it?” she began harshly.

“Fuck you Kelley,” Y/N ripped her arm out, glaring at her, “do you actually have something to say, or would you like to just belittle my relationship?”

“She was going to ask you to move in with her,” Kelley softened.

The glare immediately left Y/N’s face, “oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” now the brunette glared at her, not saying anything and just watching Y/N, waiting for her to say something else, “fix this,” Kelley pointed firmly at her before walking away.

Y/N slowly walked back to the change room, reading the new email on her phone as she went, plopping into her locker and running a hand over her face.

Emily came and sat next to her, “I saw Kelley kidnapped you,” she tried to joke.

Y/N sighed, rolling her head to look at the blonde, giving her a sad smile, “something like that. I’m sorry about last night Emily.”

“It’s alright Y/N, can you tell me what happened?”

Y/N looked away, letting out a slow controlled breath, “I need to tell you something,” she started nervously.

“Can we not do this here?” Emily whispered, nervously looking around the change room, seeing the few lingering players.

“Shit, not that Em,” Y/N quickly shook her head, “but, uhh, you’re definitely right, not here.”

The pair both nervously gathered their things, awkwardly walking next to each other out of the stadium. The awkwardness continued as they walked into Emily’s apartment, neither of them knowing how to start or what to say.

“We can’t live together,” Y/N finally cut the awkward silence.

Emily clenched her jaw and nodded her head dejectedly.

“God Emily, I’m crazy about you, for you. But I think we are better living apart, at least for a little bit,” Y/N didn’t know how to explain how much she loved Emily but why it wouldn’t be a good idea for them to live together, how unfair it be to the blonde if they lived together, “I love you.”

Now Emily scoffed at hearing that, rolling her eyes and looking to the ceiling, “what, you love me but you’re just not in love with me? It’s not you it’s me? What cliché line are you going to drop before you break up with me?”

“No, I don’t want to break up with you,” Y/N recoiled, shaking her head, not expecting the aggressiveness in the blonde’s tone.

“Then, what the fuck is going on? I was ready to ask you to move in yesterday and now you’re being all weird and saying it’s a bad idea, and saying you don’t want to break up, but very much acting how someone would before they break up.”

Emily let all her frustration out, hands firmly on her hips as she started hard at her girlfriend.

Y/N nodded along while the blonde ranted.

“There was a screw up, or not really a screw up, but my name was passed along without me knowing,” Y/N sighed, sitting hesitantly on the edge of the couch cushion, “I was a foster parent back in in Seattle, and I guess they need them here, and the social worker from there moved here and uhh added me to the list.”

“So?” the blondes anger not going anywhere, not understanding why this meant they couldn’t live together.

“They want to give me a kid, uhh a baby actually,” Y/N looked down, rubbing her hand on the back if her neck.

Emily dropped her hands, eyes shooting wide, not expecting that answer.

“I said maybe, only if they can’t find anyone else and only short term. So, I might not be getting one, but uhh, I didn’t want you to feel trapped if I did get one.”

Sonnett opened and closed her mouth, she didn’t know what to say. She didn’t know if she was ready for a baby, but she knew she was ready for Y/N, so she was probably ready to try.

Y/N’s phone began to ring on the coffee table, she glanced to the phone and to Emily, before picking up the phone when she saw the expression on the blondes face. Not able to interpret it, she picked up the phone and began to walk into the hall.

Emily nervously moved around the apartment while she waited for Y/N to come back inside. Yesterday she was going to ask Y/N to move in with her, and now she’s considering if she is ready to help take care of a kid with her. They had been together for a while now, Y/N uprooted her whole life to be near Emily, she wasn’t forcing her to help either, hadn’t asked her at all.

Did that mean Y/N didn’t think Emily was serious about them? That she didn’t think Emily could handle a baby? That she didn’t see a future with them? A future baby of their own?

She was brought out of her thoughts when Y/N slowly walked back inside, gently closing the door behind her. Y/N tapped the edge of her phone against her palm, refusing to look up.

“I have to go,” she started softly, “I’m sorry I made you think I wanted to break up, I love you, Emily.” She took a couple steps forward, kissing Emily on the cheek, nodding to herself and making her way back to the door.

“Wait!” Emily rushed forward, stopping Y/N before she could leave, “I want to come.”

“Emily,” Y/N smiled sadly at the blonde, “I’m on my way to pick up a baby right now.”

“I know, I want to come.”

Y/N watched her, determining if she was serious. Nodding, she smiled and reached out to hold the blondes hand and lead her out.

Sonnett listened as Y/N spoke to the social worker, trying to take in all the new information. That the baby had been delivered the night before, that the mom wasn’t prepared for a baby and dad wasn’t in the picture at all, no other family available to take care of the baby.

She could feel her palms sweat the more they spoke, this baby was already in a position where no one wanted it, she wasn’t prepared to be another disappointment in the small humans short life.

“You don’t have to stay Em,” Y/N leaned over and whispered after the social worker walked away, “you didn’t sign up for this, I know it’s a lot.”

“No, I’m here,” she rubbed her palms on her pants, “I’m ready,” she straightened up, giving Y/N a determined smile, “did you do this lots in Seattle?”

“This will be my second baby, but I had a few toddlers, couple children. This will be my eighth all together though,” Y/N kept her eyes down the hallway, waiting for the social worker to come back with the baby.

“How did you do it with travelling for both teams?”

“I agreed for short term ones only, and I had a few really good friends that were able to watch them during practice or the odd away game. Luckily, we always get all our schedules far enough in advance I can plan pretty far ahead,” Y/N explained, “this one is a little unexpected though, so I’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Emily corrected.

“What?” Y/N looked next to her, pausing the mental planning she was doing, organizing everything she would need to get done.

“We’ll figure it out, together,” she clarified again, “I’m in this with you Y/N.”

“Really Emily, you don’t need to help, but I guess, just uhh, now you know.”

Sonnett didn’t say anything as the social worker rounder the corner with a small baby wrapped in a blanket. Y/N stepping away to meet her halfway, gently taking the baby into her arms, rocking it back and forth.

Emily couldn’t help the smile on her face, the gentle smile on Y/N’s face as she stared down at the baby pulling one of her own. She walked up behind Y/N, sliding an arm around her waist, Y/N turned and smiled at her.

“Want to hold her?” Y/N turned slightly, offering her the baby.

Sonnett nodded nervously, wiping her hands before taking the baby into her arms. Y/N mimicked Emily and wrapped an arm around her waist.

“I’m really glad you agreed to this Y/N,” the social worker cut in, interrupting their little bubble.

Y/N smiled in return, giving her a nod, looking back to Emily holding the baby.

“Do you want me to take a picture? You guys are adorable,” the social worker reached a handout for Y/N’s phone. Taking the picture, she handed the phone back, “everything is in order, I’ll check in in a couple days. You look really happy Y/N,” she patted Y/N on the arm as she walked away.

“Ready to go home?” Y/N asked, taking the baby back from Emily, sliding a hand down to hold the blondes and guide her out of the hospital.

“I’m ready,” Emily kissed Y/N on the cheek before placing a delicate one on the babies forehead.

[blueskrugs]

Fallin' in Love (in the Middle of the Night) | Joel Farabee

or, as I said in a text to @nazdaddy a couple weeks ago: "hear me out. summer camp AU with beezer." I really miss summer camp and I feel like bee fits the vibes. I've been going to camp since I was 12 and a lot of this is based on that camp and the experiences I've had there. have fun reading!

tagging: @marcoscandellas @stlbluesbrat21 @dembenchboys @poltoncarayko @robthomissed @letmeplaytheblues @troubatrain @ayohockeycheck @blackwidowrising @aria253264 @antoineroussel @starswin @glassdanse @ch-ristiane @majdoline

length: 11k words

There was a new counselor at camp this year. His name was Joel, and no one knew much of anything about him. Most new counselors were freshly aged-out campers, or were dating a current counselor and got dragged along for the week. Joel was neither, and he’d been quiet and keeping to himself since he climbed out of his car and dumped his bags in Cabin 24 earlier that afternoon.

Avery found herself glancing over at Joel more than once while she caught up with some of her friends. He was hanging back from the clusters of other counselors, leaning against a tree and fucking around on his phone, though there was no way he was getting any reception all the way out in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees. His baseball hat was on backwards, and his hair was sticking out in tufts from underneath it.

Avery’s co-counselor, Caroline, nudged her in the ribs and followed her gaze. “Think he’s cute?” she teased.

Avery scoffed, but she didn’t look away as some of the guy counselors pulled Joel into whatever dumb argument they were already having. “I’m not dealing with that shit this year,” she said. Every year without fail, there were camp crushes, and they never ended well.

“He’s in our age group,” Caroline told her, which Avery knew already. They’d all gotten the cabin assignments last week, and Avery had been wondering about the new guy since then. “You’ll get to know him, maybe change your mind,” Caroline said with a grin.

Avery rolled her eyes but didn’t get a chance to respond because the camp director was trying to get everyone’s attention so they could head up to the chapel for orientation. They went slowly, still chatting in groups and clusters, yelling out to each other as they made their way up the hill, past the dining hall and towards the chapel. Avery still found herself looking over at Joel as he ambled alongside the groups of counselors. He’s still quiet, though he’s obviously listening to the conversations around him, trying to catch up on years of history and inside jokes. He caught her eye as they duck through the double doors into the AC and sent her a grin.

Caroline might’ve been right about the cute thing.

The chapel on the campgrounds isn’t much of a chapel, and is more a big open room with some of the best wifi anywhere on the property. Somehow, Joel ended up sitting next to Avery in the circle of chairs set up in the middle of the room. He’d grabbed the orientation packet every counselor got and was flipping through it eagerly. Avery snorted softly, and she reached out with her foot to nudge Joel in the shin.

“Don’t worry, dude, it’s all common sense stuff,” she told him. Even the other new counselors, the ones who had just aged out of being campers, didn’t look concerned, though being at camp for a few years was definitely more than enough to know how to basically run the camp.

Joel looked up at her and grinned again. “Yeah, I’m getting that,” he said. “I don’t think I got your name earlier,” he added.

Avery was wearing a sticker with her name scrawled on it like everyone else, but she refrained from rolling her eyes. Barely. “It’s Avery,” she whispered as Austin, the camp director, stood in the middle of the circle.

“Who’s ready for some icebreakers?” he said, way too loud for the small space. Everyone groaned, and Caroline and Avery shared a look from across the circle. “Don’t be like that, we have some new faces, and it’s been a while since everyone’s seen each other,” Austin said.

By Avery’s count, Joel was the only counselor who was truly new, but there was no stopping Austin once he was in Camp Mode.

Two and a half hours later, after they’d painstakingly gone through every page of the counselor’s manual, they finally broke for dinner.

“Is it always like that?” Joel asked as they trooped back down the hill to the dining hall.

Caroline and Avery groaned again. Joel sent them an amused look.

“Every fucking year,” Avery told him.

“I think I have the manual memorized,” Caroline added.

Joel laughed. “Something to look forward to next year then,” he said.

Avery raised her eyebrows. “The kids haven’t even shown up yet. Don’t get ahead of yourself, you might change your mind before the week is over.”

He wouldn’t really, probably, but a week of yelling kids, walking several miles in the August heat, and shitty food definitely had the potential to drive the weak of heart away. It wouldn’t be the first time, and if they did scare Joel off, it wouldn’t be the last. Joel sat across from Caroline and Avery for dinner.

“Eat up, bud,” Avery told him, watching as Joel pushed food around on his plate. “This is the best food you’ll get all week.”

Camp food was notorious for being barely edible on a good day, but because the counselors got in for orientation on a day in-between camp sessions, the kitchen staff was able to make them an actual meal. It still wasn’t the greatest food, but at least it hadn’t been made in bulk and left to sit under heat lamps.

Joel sighed, but reached for the serving bowl next to him for seconds.

Campers arrived in two buses on Sunday afternoon, but first came breakfast and way too much downtime for the counselors. Austin always said it was good for “bonding,” even though most of the counselors had known each other since they were kids.

“How did you end up here anyway?” Avery asked Joel, who was sitting across the table from her again. He’d told her and Caroline at dinner the night before that he was from upstate New York, which was decidedly not anywhere near their little campground in the Midwest wilderness.

“Thought it would be fun,” Joel said around a mouthful of eggs.

Avery never did eat those powdered eggs they served that were a sorry excuse for fresh scrambled eggs. “Please don’t talk with your mouth full, gross,” she told him.

Joel just winked at her.

The counselors lounged around at the lakefront until it was time for the buses to start showing up. Avery caught Joel’s eye at one point in the chaos of unloading kids and their bags and directing them to the right cabins, and she laughed at the look of overwhelmed terror on his face.

The madness of the first day always made it pass quickly. Before Avery knew it, it was after dinner and everyone was trooping down to the fire ring for the opening night campfire. Avery watched as Joel’s campers clustered around him as they walked.

“Who is that?” one of her girls asked. Avery tore her eyes away.

“New counselor, Joel. He’s got our age group, I’m sure you’ll get to know him,” Avery told her. She just hoped they liked him once they got to know him.

Avery ended up sitting on a log with her campers, right behind Joel and the boys. She stared at the back of his hat while she zoned out, half-listening to the same welcome speech Austin gave every year. His backpack was unzipped.

Avery reached down and absently picked up one of the wood chips by her feet. She ran her thumb over it, still pretending to pay attention to whatever Austin was saying. One of her campers next to her caught on to her idea and snickered.

Avery tossed the wood chip in her hand into Joel’s backpack. It landed with a quiet clang as it hit a can of sunscreen, but Joel paid it no mind.

“How many before he notices, do you think?” she whispered.

“Only one way to find out,” Kate whispered back.

Avery picked up another wood chip. In the next five minutes before Austin called all the counselors down for introductions, she landed a little over a dozen more wood chips in his backpack, including one that bounced off of his back and in.

“Backpack’s unzipped,” she told him as she carefully stepped passed him, hitting the bottom of the backpack.

“Thanks, hey, what the f-“ Joel caught himself. He glared at Avery as he zipped up his backpack.

Avery laughed and went next to Caroline in the line of counselors.

It wasn’t a campfire without s’mores, and they broke out the marshmallows as the sun went down. The oldest campers were always in charge of the campfires and s’more assembly, so Avery was catching up with some of her former campers on the logs near the fire. Joel plopped down on the log next to her, one leg stretched out on either side, s’more in hand.

“Want one?” he asked, holding it in Avery’s face. His fingers were sticky with melted marshmallow.

Avery pushed his hand away. “Pass.”

Joel looked personally offended. “What kind of person doesn’t like s’mores?” he asked. Now he had melted chocolate on his upper lip. Avery was carefully not looking.

“This one,” she said. Joel reached out and tugged on her braid. “Ow, what the hell?”

“Just making sure you’re a person and not, like, a robot or something,” he said. Avery just rolled her eyes.

They found out the next morning that they were letting the boy cabins and girl cabins of the same age group sit together this year for meals. Somehow, it was actually less chaotic than if they were separated. Which is how, once again, Joel ended up across the table from Avery at breakfast. She had accepted her fate. He smiled at her, looking far too awake for so early in the morning.

“Hey! Beezer!” one of the boys yelled from the other end of the table. It sounded like Cameron, Avery thought.

“What?” Joel yelled back.

“Beezer?” Avery asked, because what the hell.

“Hang on.” Joel banged his knee on the table as he went to go talk to his boys.

“Beezer?” Avery repeated when he came back, still rubbing his knee.

“From my last name, Farabee,” he explained. “They said Joel is a weird name, so I said they could call me Bee or Beezer.”

“Yeah, because Beezer is so normal,” Avery muttered. Joel kicked her under the table.

It rained Monday afternoon. It was one of those late summer thunderstorms that blew up fast and didn’t really last very long, but it rained hard enough and long enough that all activities after lunch were cancelled. Which meant they were all trapped in their cabins with their campers.

Some of the girls were doing who-knows-what in their bunks, while most of the boys had elected to stay in their cabin with Sam. Joel had followed Avery and Caroline, though, and was now lounging in the common area with them and a handful of their campers.

“I’m bored,” Joel said. Thunder rumbled in the distance. Caroline threw a Goldfish at his head. “Ow,” he said, watching as it bounced to the floor. “Hey, I could’ve eaten that,” he whined. Caroline threw another Goldfish at him, but this time he caught it and popped it in his mouth triumphantly.

“Does anyone have a deck of cards?” Caroline asked.

“Spoons?” Avery asked, getting up to dig her cards out of her bag.

“I have markers!” one of their girls yelled, dashing off to her bunk.

Joel was sitting up again and looking more interested when Avery came back and sat back next to him. She tossed the deck to Caroline to shuffle.

His hat was crooked, and Avery absently straightened it as Joel asked, “How do you play spoons?"

Caroline gasped. “How have you never played spoons before?”

Joel shrugged as he watched the bag of markers get dumped over the table in front of him.

“It’s like musical chairs, but with cards and spoons,” Avery explained. “Alright, how many are playing?”

“That explains literally nothing,” Joel said. “I’m in.”

Avery carefully counted out six markers and laid them out on the table. Caroline started dealing cards to everyone. Joel poked Avery in the arm; she ignored him.

“You’re gonna get four cards,” Avery started explaining. “The goal is to get four of the same number, four queens, four sixes, whatever. Carol is dealer, she’ll keep sending cards around one at a time. If you see a card you want, keep it, and pick a different card from your hand and pass it on instead. First person to four of a kind grabs a marker, the person who can’t get a marker is out, and then there’s one less marker in the next round.”

Joel blinked at her a couple times. “I think I’m still confused.”

Avery laughed and patted him on the leg. “You’ll figure it out,” she told him, picking up her cards.

Joel did figure it out, but only after he was too slow in the scramble for a marker in the first round and got stuck watching for a while.

“I want back in,” he complained. He poked Avery in the back with his foot where she had moved to the floor in front of him. “You’re too fast.”

Avery reached behind her to smack his hand away. “Years of practice, bud. And you’ll get back in when this game’s over.”

Joel stuck his tongue out at Avery, but only Caroline saw it.

By the time the rain let up a little over an hour later, Avery had nearly elbowed a camper in the face fighting Joel for a marker (which she won), Joel threw a marker across the room so Caroline couldn’t get it (and was automatically disqualified), and no less than three fights had broken out.

Basically, they’d had a great time. They still kicked Joel out to go back and deal with his own campers for a while, though, on the grounds of infringing on their territory.

On Monday night, Avery was standing outside her cabin, trying to make sure her flashlight actually worked when Joel came over to her.

“What’re you up to?” he asked.

Avery clicked her flashlight off. “What’re you up to?” she countered.

“Stealing extra snacks from the staff cabin,” he said easily. “You didn’t answer me.”

Avery smiled at him. He was still wearing his baseball hat, turned around the right way now, even though it was well past dark. “I was gonna go for a walk around the campgrounds,” she told him. “Carol’s in with our kids, and I usually go out for a while before bed.”

“By yourself?”

Avery almost laughed at how worried Joel looked. “Bee, I know every inch of this campground, I’ve been coming here since I was a kid.” And then before she could think better of it: “You could come with me if you want.”

Joel’s face lit up. “For real?” Avery did laugh at his face this time.

“Yes, for real. Just let me get a hoodie.” It was still summer, but nights on the lake got chilly.

“Here, just take mine, I won’t need it,” Joel said quickly. He tossed her the hoodie he’d been wearing at dinner.

It was big on her, and warm, though it no longer carried any of his body heat. It smelled like bonfire smoke and whatever deodorant Joel wore. When he turned to head back to the main path, Avery tucked her nose into the collar and took a deep breath.

“Alright, where the fuck are we going,” Joel asked when Avery caught up to him.

Avery shrugged, though she wasn’t sure how well Joel could see it in the dark. She said, “I don’t know, we usually just wander around for a while.

“We?”

Avery usually went on night walks with one of the guy counselors she was friends with, Alex, but he wasn’t there this summer. “You don’t know him,” Avery said.

Joel huffed. “So what, am I just the other guy?” he asked.

Avery laughed. “Something like that. Ooh, there’s a paintball course on the back corner of the grounds, if I can remember how to get there,” she said, already turning so she could head in the right direction. Maybe.

“Oh, lit!”

Avery could not, in fact, remember how to get to the paintball course. They’d made it partially there before Joel got freaked out because he was convinced he’d heard something in the woods behind them. Avery telling him it was probably just a raccoon did not help.

So, they ended up turning around and heading towards the front end of the campgrounds. There was a vacation lodge on that side of the lake, which had never quite made sense to Avery. She could see some of their lights glistening on the black lake. It was a clear night, and there was no one else around, which meant stargazing. Well, after Avery convinced Joel they weren’t trespassing by laying on the tennis courts.

“Do you know anything about stars?” Joel asked. He didn’t look over at Avery, still gazing up at the sky.

Avery snorted softly. “Nah, I just think they’re pretty. You can’t see stars like this in the city.” There were still some lights scattered around the campgrounds, but it was nothing compared to the light pollution of a city. “Our old camp director used to tell us one of those myths about how the stars were created, but I don’t think I remember enough of it to repeat it.” He also used to scare the kids with ghost stories, but Joel didn’t really need to hear about how the campgrounds were haunted just yet.

“Great story,” he said. Avery smacked him on the stomach. “Ow! Hey, be nice to me, or I’ll leave you out here.”

He wouldn’t, and they both knew that.

“Hey,” Joel said suddenly, pointing straight upward. “Is that Orion?”

“Isn’t Orion a winter constellation?” Avery asked. She had no idea where Joel was pointing.

“What?”

“Never mind.”

They mostly laid in silence, just watching the stars and enjoying the closeness and the quiet. Avery always missed hearing the frogs at night when she wasn’t at camp. The black night sky stretched endlessly above them, dotted with stars. Avery would live under these stars if she could. It was getting late, though, and they still had to be up bright and early the next day, so when Avery caught Joel yawning for the third time in as many minutes, she sat up.

“Time for bed?” Joel pouted up at her. “I know the mattresses here aren’t comfortable, but I promise it’ll be better than sleeping on a tennis court,” she told him. It had only been one day of actual camp, and she could already feel some aches settling in. “C’mon, Beezer.”

Avery stood up and stretched before offering Joel a hand up. He groaned as she pulled him to his feet. They made their way back to the cabins together, still in comfortable silence, Avery still wearing Joel’s hoodie.

Joel was carefully peeling a banana when Avery and her campers made it into breakfast Tuesday morning. His hat was facing the right way for once. She dropped her backpack on the bench and groaned.

“What took you guys so long?” he asked. Almost all of the other cabins had made it to the dining hall already. He moved Avery’s bag onto the ground at his feet. “C’mon, sit, food’s coming out soon.”

“Ava lost one of her shoes, and we all had to look for it,” she told him. Joel snorted. Avery tapped the bill of his cap, shoved it down lower over his eyes. “No hats at meals,” she told him.

Joel rolled his eyes, but he took the hat off and ran his fingers through his hair. “Or what?”

“Or it goes on the moose,” Avery said, jerking her thumb over her shoulder at the taxidermied moose head that hung over the door.

Joel gave her a look, like he definitely didn’t believe her. He’d learn.

When Avery got back to the table from the bathroom before lunch later that day, there was a baseball hat hanging from the moose’s antlers. Joel was hatless and disgruntled-looking.

“Told you,” Avery said, swiping a potato chip from his plate.

She took pity on him later and fished his hat down with the broom handle.

Swim time down at the lakefront had always been Avery’s favorite parts of summer camp. In the middle of all of the craziness of the week, the lake was always peaceful and calm. Avery could take out a paddleboard or a kayak and just float, away from yelling kids, losing track of time in the glassy blue surface of the lake. She’d spend a whole day out there if they would let her.

She had snagged a paddleboard and had made it out to the middle of the lake. She was chatting with a couple of her campers when Joel approached on a kayak. “What’s up?” he asked.

“Hi, Beezer!” the girls in the canoe chorused. Avery grinned at him.

Sam came up on Avery’s other side on another paddleboard. He floated up until he bumped into Avery’s board. She wobbled, but didn’t fall over. “Oops,” Sam said.

Avery pushed Sam’s board away with her paddle. His balance wasn’t as good, and he toppled over. “Oops,” Avery echoed. Sam flipped her off where he thought the girls couldn’t see.

It was warm in the sun, and Avery leaned on her paddle, tilting her face up to the sun. Joel poked her leg with his kayak paddle. When Avery glanced back at him, his cheeks and nose were red from the sun.

“Are you wearing any sunscreen?” Avery asked him.

Joel shrugged. “Nah.”

Avery tsked at him. Sam had made it back up onto his paddleboard.

“Hey, Aves,” he said. “Water feels nice, you should try it.” He was holding his paddle a little like a spear.

They weren’t allowed to swim out in the open water of the lake where all the kayaks were, but they could get away with it if they “fell” in, which is how the counselors usually ended up spending most of their time on the lake trying to knock each other into the water. Avery knew where this was going.

Avery paddled backwards once, trying to get out of Sam’s reach, but she bumped into Joel’s kayak instead.

“Oh, no.”

Joel’s grin turned a little wicked. Avery didn’t have time to brace herself before Joel was shoving her paddleboard, and it went out from under her. She heard everyone laughing as she hit the water with a splash. She came back up, pushing her wet hair out of her face, and hooked her arms over her board. She glared at Joel.

“Rude,” she told him.

Joel shrugged. “Thought you looked hot,” he said.

The water did feel great, actually, though Avery was loath to admit it to either of the boys. Avery sighed and heaved herself back into her board, but she didn’t stand back up, instead sitting with her legs hanging in the water on either side. The girls in the canoe were still giggling, so Avery used her paddle to splash them.

“Hey, come on, they’re innocent!” Joel protested. Avery splashed him next.

Tuesday night meant all-camp kickball on the lower fields.

Avery had never been one for making a fool of herself in team sports, so she was lounging on a blanket in the grass with Caroline and a couple of the counselors for the older girls, safe from any stray flying kickballs. Avery was just debating digging through her backpack to reapply bug spray when Joel made his way over to them.

His hat was perched backwards on his head like always, and he was squinting into the setting sun as it dipped below the treeline. His forehead had gotten sunburnt from being out on the lake earlier. “We’re getting a counselors game goin’. You girls in?” he asked, but Avery had a feeling it was directed more at her than the other three.

She raised an eyebrow up at him and absently swatted at a mosquito on Caroline’s leg. “I don’t do sports,” she told him.

Joel’s face fell. Avery hadn’t even realized how earnest he’d looked. Someone on the other end of the field called his name, and he glanced over his shoulder. “You sure? It’ll be fun,” he tried.

Avery had grown up with most of the other counselors, knew firsthand just how competitive they all were. Fun, maybe, but also intense and way too serious for summer camp kickball.

“I’ll pass,” Avery said.

“Your loss,” Joel tossed back over his shoulder as he jogged away again.

Caroline was smirking. Avery half-heartedly smacked her on the arm. “He definitely has a crush on you,” she said.

“Does he think he’s being subtle?” Meg chimed in from the other side of the blanket, not looking up from the friendship bracelet she was making.

Avery flopped backwards onto the blanket with a groan.

Avery was still on her back, dozing off while listening to the sounds of yelling kids filling the humid air, when Caroline reached over and poked her in the ribs.

“Your boy is up to bat,” she said.

Meg snorted as Avery sat up and leaned back on her elbows to watch. “He’s not ‘my boy,’” Avery grumbled. Then, “Is it still called an at-bat in kickball?” She burst out laughing as Caroline rolled her eyes.

Joel was indeed up next, and Avery watched as Joel kicked the ball and sent it sailing over Drew and Sam’s heads. He easily headed to second base, but the grass was still wet from the rain on Monday, and he wiped out as he stepped on the rubber base. All four girls on the blanket burst out laughing. Joel was still sitting in the grass, looking somewhat disinclined to move.

“You really looked like you were having fun out there,” Avery said to him later, as they all walked back up to the cabins in the dark. “That wipeout was great entertainment for us, too.”

Joel took a step to the side so he could bump into Avery, but reached out to steady her when she lost her balance. “Whatever,” he said. “That really hurt, actually.”

Avery just laughed.

Joel showed up late to lunch on Wednesday with a giant bandage covering his knee and dried blood down his leg.

“What did you do to yourself?” Avery asked as he dropped into the empty spot next to her and reached for the nearest plate of food.

He still had ash streaked across his cheek from firebuilding that morning, when he’d bet Avery that he could build a fire faster than her. (He’d won, but only barely, and because he’d used a battery instead of flint, like they were supposed to.)

Joel didn’t pause in piling food on his plate. “Jackson left his water bottle down at archery, so I went back down to get it for him, and when I was running back up the hill, I slipped on some loose gravel and fell. I think there might be some gravel in my knee now,” he said. Some of the kids at the table laughed.

“You’re a mess,” Avery told him with a sigh.

They were back down the hill towards archery after lunch on Wednesday to hang out in the Nature Center for the afternoon.

“Alright, please fill me in on what we’re doing today,” Joel asked, falling into step next to Avery.

One of Joel’s campers turned around to walk backwards in front of them. “We get to play with snakes!” he said. His name was Jack, Avery was pretty sure, who was very different from Jackson. It all got a little confusing after a while.

“Cool!” Joel said.

Avery rolled her eyes. She poked Joel in the ribs. “You would get excited about that.” He flinched away and pouted at her. It wasn’t that Avery hated the Nature Center, but the animals were the same every year, and you can only get excited about them so many times.

“What? Snakes are cool,” Joel defended.

“Boys,” Avery sighed, walking faster so she could be next to Caroline instead.

Disdain in front of Joel aside, it was fun to get to chill in the AC and hang out with the animals for a while. There was a little milk snake that loved to chill out in people’s hands named Dudley that all the counselors were weirdly fond of. Plus, they got to play around with the ferret they had, which was always highly entertaining.

Joel was just as excited as the kids, which Avery had to admit was kind of cute. He bounced around and looked eagerly into various cages with the kids. Avery and Caroline watched from a couple of the chairs in the corner, content to just hang out until the snakes came out.

“D’you think I’d get in trouble if I put him in Joel’s hood?” Avery mused, idly watching Dudley calmly wind his way around her wrist. Joel’s back was to her, and he was wearing a hoodie despite it being nearly 100 degrees outside.

Caroline giggled. “That’s mean.”

Dudley was making his way back towards Avery’s hand now. “He did say he wanted to hold him,” she said. And with that, Avery took a step forward and carefully deposited Dudley in Joel’s hood, where he promptly curled back up to sleep.

“What are you doing?” Joel asked.

“Just fixing your hood,” Avery said innocently, patting him on the shoulder and taking another step forward and pretending to read the info card of the cage they were standing in front of.

“Avery.” Avery glanced over at Joel. His arms were crossed, but he looked like he was fighting back a smile. “Why is my hood moving.” It wasn’t phrased much like a question.

Avery bit back a smile of her own. “Is it?” Dudley’s head popped out of the hood just then, slithering up onto Joel’s shoulder a little bit. He startled, then shot Avery a dirty look. Avery couldn’t help but laugh.

“You’re actually the worst, why.” Dudley continued to make his way across Joel’s shoulder, happy to explore. “Help,” Joel whined, “I don’t think I can reach him, and I don’t wanna drop him.”

“Hold still,” she said, carefully reaching to grab Dudley back out. “Here, he likes to be held.”

Joel obediently held his hands out to take Dudley from Avery. “Hey, take my picture will you?”

Even if Avery never spoke to Joel again after this summer, she was definitely going to keep the picture she took of Joel grinning at the camera with a snake in his hands.

They were walking past the dam later when one of the boys stopped short. Joel, not paying any attention, bumped into him.

“Hey, Avery,” Jack said.

“Hey, Jack,” Avery said back.

“Can we go check out the cemetery?”

Avery shuddered. “Absolutely not.” She wondered who had told the boys about it.

Joel looked at Avery, wide-eyed. “There’s a cemetery here?”

“Yes, and we’re not going back there,” she told him. Several of the boys groaned, put-out. Joel still looked a little nervous, so Avery added, “These grounds used to be privately owned. The cemetery is hidden behind the dam, most people don’t even know about it.” That last part was directed more at their nosy campers.

They had started walking again. Up ahead, one of the campers yelled, “Wait, does that mean no one’s told Beezer that the campgrounds are haunted?”

“They’re what?”

Avery was not too proud to admit that she hated the barn dance a little bit. It was fun for a little while, but after about twenty minutes, it just became hot and dusty. Avery had never been good at following along with the steps they tried to teach, and it was a lot more fumbling and embarrassment than it was worth.

This year she made it through the Cha Cha Slide– which they normally didn’t play until the very end– before she dipped and left the barn to go sit back on the blanket with Meg and Caroline. They spent most of their time just laughing at their friends as they struggled to keep up with music. Avery had only been sitting out for ten minutes when Joel emerged from the crowd and made his way towards them.

“Scoot,” he said, carefully sitting next to Avery. Meg raised her eyebrows at Avery behind Joel’s back.

“Not one for dancing?” Avery asked him.

Joel stuck his tongue out at her. “You’re one to talk, you’ve been sitting over here forever.” Avery stuck her tongue out back.

“Real mature, you two,” Caroline muttered from next to them.

“Hey, wait, actually,” Joel said, reaching out to tug on Avery’s arm. He pulled her closer to him, until she was situated between his legs, leaning back against his chest. He draped his arms across her shoulders and rested his chin on the top of Avery’s head. “That’s better.”

“You’re so weird,” Avery said, but she relaxed into his hold. She rested her hands on his and settled back in to watch the semi-organized chaos of the barn dance going on in front of them.

Thursday morning found Joel hunched over a Styrofoam cup of coffee with his glasses on and hoodie pulled up over his head.

“I didn’t know you wore glasses,” Avery said, sitting across from him and swiping his coffee for a sip.

“Hey,” Joel whined, “I need that.”

Avery snorted and handed him his coffee back. “Why are you so tired, anyway?” Avery had gone back to the cabin after barn dance and passed out herself.

Joel made a noise in the back of his throat. “We couldn’t get the boys to shut up and settle down last night.” Said boys were at the other end of the table, looking about as tired as Joel, actually.

“Y’all better wake up down there,” Avery called. “We’ve got Alpine today.” “What the hell is the Alpine Tower, anyway?” Joel asked. “No one will tell me.”

The Alpine Tower was hard to describe, and it was better to experience for the first time if you didn’t know what you were getting into, so Avery just said, “You’ll see.”

Joel groaned and put his head down on the table.

After breakfast, Joel was by Avery’s side, as was becoming typical, as they started the trek towards Alpine Tower. He’d woken up considerably as his coffee hit. “How far is it anyway?” he asked.

“Far,” everyone else chorused. Joel looked taken aback.

“You should know by now that nothing here is ever a short walk,” Avery told him. The shortest walk on the grounds was probably from the cabins to the dining hall, and that was still almost half a mile. Ahead of them, a group of their campers were chattering excitedly about their climbs later.

Joel reached out and tugged on Avery’s braid where it was pulled over her shoulder. “You should give me a piggyback ride.” Avery raised an eyebrow at him. Joel easily had a head on her. “Or you could give me one,” she countered, not really expecting Joel to take her up on it.

Except. “Only if you carry my backpack,” Joel said, already shrugging off his backpack and handing it to Avery.

She laughed. “Bud, I was joking.”

Joel adjusted his hat and came to a stop next to Avery. He was eyeing her expectantly. “Last chance.”

Avery sighed and put Joel’s backpack on over hers. “Jesus Christ, what do you have in this thing?” she asked. It was heavier than hers by a lot. Joel crouched down so Avery could climb onto his back.

“Wood chips,” Joel deadpanned as he adjusted Avery on his back, hiking her up a little higher. Avery tightened her arms around Joel’s neck.

“You’re ridiculous,” she muttered, but Joel didn’t respond as he started walking again, jogging a little to catch up with Caroline and the kids.

Caroline gave them both a look as they reached the rest of their group, but didn’t comment. Joel carried Avery for most of the long walk towards Alpine, and it was mostly fine, except for the moment he stopped to hike her legs up higher around his waist again and nearly accidentally flipped Avery over his head.

He came to a stop as they reached the first big hill. “Nope, ride’s over. Sorry, sweetheart, I don’t do hills.” He let Avery slide off his back and back onto the ground.

“Sweetheart?”

Joel blushed a little and wouldn’t meet Avery’s eyes. Avery purposely bumped into him as they both started walking again. Joel was panting by the time they made it to the top of the second steep hill, but he stopped short once he saw the Alpine Tower for the first time.

“Oh, hell no,” he said.

Avery laughed and went to drop down in the wood chips on the ground next to Caroline.

“What took you two so long?” she asked.

“Joel’s slow,” Avery told her.

“I heard that!” Joel called. He was only a few feet away, sitting on the low bench next to one of his campers.

“You were meant to!” Avery called back.

The Alpine Tower had once been described to Avery as “a rock wall on steroids.” What it really was was a triangular platform fifty feet in the air, and it was up to the climber to figure out how to get to the top. Each of the three sides were varying degrees of difficulty, and it was always one of Avery’s favorite camp activities. When she glanced over her shoulder, Joel was still staring up at it.

“Scared, Beezer?” she asked.

Joel scoffed, but he didn’t quite look like he meant it.

They made it through the safety demonstration and got a couple kids going up the Tower, and Avery settled in to watch, cheer her kids on, and wait for her turn. Until someone started pelting her with wood chips from behind.

“Can I help you?” she asked, turning around to glare at Joel.

He was already in the middle of throwing another wood chip at her, and it hit her in the forehead this time. “Oops.” He didn’t look particularly sorry, actually. “You gonna climb?” he asked.

“Yeah, of course,” she said. “Are you?” Joel just shrugged. “Wouldn’t have pegged you to be scared of heights,” she added.

Joel stuck his tongue out at her. “I’m not. Just-” he trailed off.

“How ‘bout this,” Avery said, turning fully to face Joel. “I’ll race you to the top. I’ll even let you take the easy side,” she told him. She’d been planning on taking one of the harder sides, anyway, but Joel didn’t need to know that. Joel rolled his eyes, but Avery saw a familiar glint at the prospect of a competition. “Unless you’re too scared, Bee,” she added, just a taunt, really.

“Whatever, you’re on,” he said, half-heartedly throwing another wood chip at Avery’s leg. Avery grinned at him, and Joel grinned back. Caroline shook her head at both of them.

After all the kids had taken their turn at climbing, the counselors were allowed to strap themselves into harnesses and helmets. Avery and Joel stood next to each other in the shadow of the Tower, listening as they were attached to ropes and given final instructions by the climbing staff.

“Fuck, this thing is tight,” Joel muttered, shifting uncomfortably.

“Shh, language,” Avery scolded. Their campers were all in high school, and they’d probably all heard or said “fuck” themselves by now, but still. Joel flicked her in the helmet. “Hey, be nice to me, and I might let you win.”

Joel huffed. “Let me win, sure, alright.”

“Good luck, Bee,” Avery yelled to him, already heading over to start her climb.

She was on the “middle” side, which was harder than the side Joel was starting on, but Avery had the advantage of having climbed that side more than once before. It didn’t take long before she had caught back up to Joel, who had sort of gotten himself stuck.

“Help?” he called, trying to look for a way to keep moving forward.

“Sucks to suck, Beezer,” Avery called back, reaching up to pull the cargo net she was about to climb towards her. This is where it got harder, requiring more upper body strength than Avery actually had, but when she glanced back over her shoulder, Joel had gotten himself unstuck and was moving again.

She stopped paying attention to Joel mostly after that, though she did hear a thump and then an “Ow,” that she was assuming was Joel hitting his head on something, which would definitely not have been the first time someone had done it.

She was about to climb her last stretch of cargo net when she heard, “Shit, why are you so good at this?” from below her. “Quit checking out my ass, Joel,” she yelled without turning around. She cackled when she heard Joel make loud noises of protest. It didn’t really matter; she had a race to win.

In the end, Avery barely made it to the top of the Tower before Joel. She had just stood up on the platform when one of Joel’s hands appeared, grappling for the little rock climbing rocks they had for grip on the top of the platform.

“A little help?” he asked. She could just barely see his head.

“You made it this far, you can do it,” she told him, but she took a couple steps closer to him. It was entirely ungraceful, but Joel eventually scrambled onto the platform and then to his feet.

Avery took a moment to appreciate the view. They were high, above the treeline, and trees stretched out in all directions for as far as Avery could see.

“Fuck, we’re high up,” he said.

“Stop saying fuck,” Avery chided, but she offered him a high five. “Told ya you could do it.”

“Have I told you that I hate you?” Joel asked, shaking his head. He took the high five, though. “Wait, how do we get down again?”

Alpine Tower took up most of the morning, and by the time they all made it back to the dining hall, lunch was already in full swing. Joel stretched out on the bench with a sigh.

“How am I already sore?” he asked, to no one in particular.

Avery nudged his leg. “Move over, dude, the rest of us have to sit, too.”

Joel groaned, but sat up, though he was still sitting sideways on the bench. He leaned forward and rested his forehead on Avery’s shoulder. She patted him absently on the thigh. One of the campers was setting out lunch on their table, and she was trying to see what it was.

“I’m tired,” Joel said. He was quiet for once, and Avery barely heard him over the general din of lunch.

“You can take a nap instead of coming out to the mud cave, meet up with us again for swim time,” she said, knowing full well he wouldn’t do that. He’d been talking about the mud cave ever since Avery had told him about it on Sunday night.

Joel sat upright again. “No way, I wanna get dirty.”

Avery groaned. “Please never say that again.” Joel wiggled his eyebrows at her. She knocked his baseball hat off his head.

The two cabins met back in the circle drive outside the dining hall after lunch, dressed in their dingiest clothes and oldest shoes, ready to pile into the old van that took them out to the edge of the campgrounds. For once, Joel wasn’t wearing a baseball hat. He couldn’t stand still, bouncing around while he chattered with his boys while they waited.

The van pulled up, as rickety and rusty as ever, helmets were handed out, and everyone clambered into the van. There wasn’t a lot of space, and it was hot as the van made its slow way across camp.

“Why is everyone wearing their helmets already?” Joel asked, as the van hit a bump in the road and Joel bounced high enough in his seat to hit his head on the roof. “Ow, okay.”

Eventually the van came to a stop at the creek that cut across the overgrown field they were in. Everyone piled out of the van, blinking in the sunlight.

“So, where’s the cave?” Joel asked. A couple people laughed.

“Across the creek, through the field, and then about another mile into the woods,” Avery told him, patting him on the shoulder as she went past him towards the creek. The campers had already started wading across. When she glanced back over her shoulder at him, he looked a little dismayed.

The creek was clear and cold despite the late summer heat. It came up just past Avery’s waist as she splashed across. The field on the other side was just as overgrown as the one they started in, if not more, and everyone tried to get through it and away from all the bees as fast as possible.

“Is it really that far of a walk?” Joel asked as he caught back up to Avery. His nose had gotten sunburnt at some point, was peeling a little.

“Unfortunately,” Avery said. They were walking back into the shade of the woods now. Avery’s shoes were still squishing a little from the creek, and she could already feel a blister forming on her heel.

Joel groaned, but he was otherwise quiet as they kept walking. They walked in silence for a while, and Avery basked in the sunlight filtering through the trees and the sounds of the birds and cicadas.

“How much farther?” Joel whined after a while. Avery bumped sideways into him.

“We’re almost through the week, don’t tell me you can’t handle a little walking now,” she teased.

Joel bumped into Avery back. “Sorry, one of us walked all the way up to Alpine Tower today,” he said.

“Hey, I walked up the hills at the end!” Avery protested. It wasn’t like she had begged Joel for a piggyback ride, either. Joel rolled his eyes at her.

They had finally reached the cave, and everyone was clustered around the permanent member of the camp staff who would lead their group. The kids were listening eagerly, but Joel was paying attention to literally anything else.

Avery nudged him with her elbow. “Focus, Beezer,” she whispered.

Joel stuck his tongue out at Avery, but started paying attention to where their leader was warning them about bats. “Hang on, you never said anything about bats,” Joel hissed. In front of them, the kids were lining up to head into the cave. Avery just grinned at him and shoved him forward to walk in front of her.

It was immediately cooler when they stepped into the cave. With all the rain on Monday, the water was higher than some years, and it was quickly up over Avery’s shins. In front of her, Joel clicked his flashlight on, but it did little as they made their way deeper into the blackness of the cave.

“Shit, this water’s freezing,” Joel said, way too loudly.

Avery laughed quietly. She felt her shoe unstick from the mud as she took another step. “I don’t know what you expected,” she whispered. It was hard to navigate the uneven footing in the dark and the water, and she tripped a little bit as the ground sloped suddenly beneath her. She caught herself with a hand on Joel’s back. “Shit, sorry,” she said.

Joel didn’t say anything, but he slowed down a bit so Avery could stay closer to him and his little circle of light. He kept a hand outstretched behind him in case Avery tripped again. It was quiet in the cave, just the sounds of everyone making their way through the muddy water and the occasional quiet giggle or curse from the campers. Avery lost track of time a bit, and before she knew it they had reached the back of the cave. All flashlights were turned off, and they stood quietly in the pitch black for a few long moments. Joel was standing close enough to Avery that she could feel his body heat, chasing away some of the chill of the cave. When they finally turned to leave and headed back out of the cave, Joel’s hand found the small of her back, steadying her, just for a second.

At the mouth of the cave, their leader insisted on streaking mud across everyone’s face before they could leave. Joel wrinkled his nose and poked at his cheek as they stepped back out into the sunlight. “Feels weird,” he complained.

“The mud is what you have a problem with?” Avery asked. Yeah, it itched a little as it was drying, but they were also covered in muddy water, well past both of their knees.

Joel just shrugged.

The walk back to the creek always seemed longer. It was still hot and humid, even in the shade of the woods, but it felt worse after spending almost an hour in freezing water and the damp dark of the cave. Everyone walked slower, dragging their soggy feet.

Joel ended up in the creek ahead of Avery. The kids were splashing around, relishing in the clean water.

“Hey, Bee,” Avery called.

Joel turned towards her, but Avery missed a drop-off of the rocks that made up the creek bed, and stumbled. Joel caught her quickly before she face-planted into the water.

“Careful,” he said, grinning down at her. “No need to throw yourself at me,” he added.

Avery rolled her eyes. She had found her footing, but Joel was still clutching her arms. She pushed at his chest and laughed as his heel slipped and he fell backwards. He disappeared under the water for a moment.

“Oh, you’re gonna pay for that,” he said when he reappeared.

Avery tried to dash away, but the water came up over her waist, which made it hard to move quickly. She splashed as much as she could, but she felt Joel grab her around the waist and haul her backwards until they were both falling back underwater. Avery shrieked. Joel let go of her after they both went under, and Avery pushed herself away and stood back up. They were both soaked now. Joel was laughing, and Avery couldn’t help but to laugh, too.

“Alright, you two,” Caroline yelled from the shore. “Quit flirting and get out of the creek.”

They both grumbled about it, but they made it to the other side of the creek without further incident.

Back into the van everyone went. It felt less hot with everyone still chilled from the cave and playing in the creek. Joel slid in next to Avery, pressed up against her side. They were stopping off at the lakefront swim next instead of going back to their cabins, and Avery was looking forward to spending more time out in the sun on the lake. Joel nudged her in the ribs with his elbow, drawing her attention away from where she was staring out the window.

“You goin’ out on the lake?” he asked quietly. The van jolted, and he ended up nearly in Avery’s lap for a moment.

“Of course,” Avery said back.

“Wanna grab a canoe together and chill?”

Avery thought for a moment. “Not interested in trying to knock me off a paddle board some more?” she teased.

Joel shook his head, grinning at Avery. His helmet was off, and his hair was a mess from being underneath it. “Too tired,” he said.

“Lame,” Avery said. Then, “Dibs on the front of the canoe.”

It didn’t take long to change out of their drenched and muddy clothes into swimsuits and commandeer a canoe. Joel got stuck doing most of the steering, with Avery only paddling when necessary. They mostly just drifted, letting the breeze push them along the open water. The lake was steel grey, the sky above them dark with clouds that had rolled in while they were in the cave, threatening more rain. Avery sat back and let her fingers brush across the water.

“Hey,” Joel said. His voice echoed a little, carrying across the lake. “Look at me for a sec.”

Avery turned as much as she could without jostling the canoe. Joel had his phone out, and when she turned, Avery heard the artificial shutter sound as Joel snapped a picture of her. She flipped him off with a grin; he took a picture of that, too.

The dining hall seemed extra loud that night, campers running back and forth between tables, everyone desperate for a few extra minutes with their friends before everyone went their separate ways the next day.

“You’ve got a little-” Joel poked the dried mud Avery still had across her cheekbones, sitting next to her at their table.

She swatted his hand away. “Shut up, I didn’t have time to shower after swim.” Joel slid down the bench, away from Avery. “Okay, rude,” she said. Joel grinned at her. He didn’t move any closer.

After dinner was the closing campfire. They were at the big fire ring this time, down near the lakefront as the sun set. Joel found Avery sitting on one of the benches off to the side of the fire by herself and plopped down on the bench next to her. His backpack made a muffled thump when he dropped it in the wood chips at their feet.

Avery dropped her head to rest on Joel’s shoulder. “I’m tired, Bee,” she whined. As much as she loved camp, it usually kicked her ass by the end of the week.

Joel laughed softly and patted Avery on the thigh. “Last day tomorrow,” he reminded her.

Avery stared into the flickering flames until her eyes went unfocused. “But I don’t wanna go home.”

She didn’t want to leave camp, her happy place, didn’t want to leave Joel, who she was maybe falling in love with, didn’t want to leave her friends and the endless days of summer behind.

Joel laughed again, but it wasn’t mean. “I get that.” The kids were starting in on their s’mores. “I wasn’t sure how much I was gonna like it here, honestly. Especially when I got here and everyone else already knew each other, and I was just the new guy.”

Avery lifted her head and looked at Joel. The firelight was casting shadows across his face, but he was gazing out over the lake. His hand was still on Avery’s leg, just above her knee.

“Did you like it after all?” Avery asked. She thought about him talking about next year on the very first day, saying he thought camp would be fun.

Joel grinned then, and it was familiar and comforting. Avery hadn’t expected that to happen at the beginning of the week.

She found herself wanting to see Joel’s smile forever.

“Yeah, I did,” was all Joel said. Avery put her head back on his shoulder.

They were quiet for a few minutes as the sun sank fully below the treeline and the lake glowed red next to them. Avery shivered in spite of the warm air as a wind blew. Joel bumped her head with his shoulder so Avery sat back up, and then he was bending over to dig something out of his backpack. He dropped a hoodie in Avery’s lap. She hadn’t seen him wearing it ever during the evening, which meant he’d thrown it in his bag just for her. She pulled it on with a small smile.

“You might not get this back, bud,” she told him, tugging the sleeves over her hands. Guys’ hoodies always seemed more comfortable than any sweatshirt Avery had ever owned herself.

Joel just shook his head at her and tugged on her braid, but it was gentle, half-hearted.

“Oh, wait, I’ll be right back,” Joel said, jumping back up and disappearing towards the s’mores table. When he came back a few minutes later, he had a s’more in one hand.

“What, nothing for me?” Avery teased.

“No, because you don’t like chocolate, you freak,” Joel said, but he reached into his shorts pocket and triumphantly produced an unopened sleeve of graham crackers, tossing them to Avery. She squinted suspiciously at him as he sat back down. “Carol told me you’ll eat the graham crackers,” he said casually.

Avery opened the crackers carefully and stuck one in her mouth. “Thanks, Bee,” she said around it. It came out softer than she meant for it to.

Joel winked at her and stole a graham cracker.

Every year, there were rumours of campers planning to sneak out of their cabins on the last night of camp. Really, they were terrible at being discreet about it, but they thought they were being subtle. Regardless, the counselors still had to be careful and watch to make sure no one actually did manage to sneak out.

Which is how Avery and Joel ended up sitting out in front of the stars at the small fire ring in front of their cabins, perched on the cold stone wall with both of their cabins in view. Avery was still wearing Joel’s hoodie.

“Do you think they’ll actually do it?” Joel asked, breaking the comfortable silence.

Avery shook her head and tilted her chin to look up at the stars. “Probably not, but I’m not about to get in trouble with Austin if they do.” It had happened once while she was still a camper, and it hadn’t exactly been pretty the next day with an entire cabin in trouble.

It had been cloudy earlier in the day, but it had cleared up, and the stars were as bright as ever above them. The moon was low and yellow in the humid air. Avery wished for a second that she had a camera to capture this moment, a memory to last forever.

Joel mimicked Avery, looking up at the stars. “Bright tonight,” he said. Avery hummed in agreement. “Hey, you know what we should do after the kids fall asleep?” he asked suddenly.

Avery raised an eyebrow at him. “Sleep?”

Joel huffed out a quiet laugh. “I wanna check out that cemetery you guys were talking about,” Joel said.

“At night?” Avery said. “Hell no, it’s creepy enough during the daytime,” she told him.

She’d been back there once before, years ago. There were broken headstones scattered throughout the overgrown grass, and it was shaded by the dam and a dozen trees, making it cooler, even in the heat of summer. It felt like it was a world away from the rest of the camp, quiet and eerie, and Avery had zero plans of ever going back there.

Joel rolled his eyes. “You know what else we could do?” He turned so he was facing Avery.

She tilted her head to look at him. He was smiling softly at her. It was a little scary how quickly he’d become a part of Avery’s life, how she went from knowing nothing about him to trusting that he’d always be by her side.

“I don’t know, Joel, what could we do?” Avery whispered.

Joel’s smile grew, and then he was leaning in. Avery’s eyes closed as their lips met. Joel’s hand was wrapped around one of Avery’s wrists, thumb rubbing absently over the skin there. When he pulled away, he was still smiling. They were sitting closer together than they had been, though Avery wasn’t sure which one of them had moved.

“I’ve been wanting to do that all week,” Joel admitted.

“Well, why didn’t you?” Avery asked, and then she was wrapping a hand around the back of his neck to pull him in for another kiss. She could feel Joel smiling into the kiss, even as he tugged her closer.

Distantly, Avery heard a cabin door open. She pulled away to turn and look, and Joel dropped his head to her shoulder. Avery ran her fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. Caroline was walking towards them.

“I was going to tell you that the kids are asleep and you two can come back inside, but you seem pretty busy,” she said once she got closer.

They both flipped her off, and she laughed at them as she turned and headed back into the girls’ cabin. Avery shivered in spite of herself then. Joel rubbed his free hand over Avery’s thigh, a little bit for warmth, and a little bit just to touch her, because he could do that now.

“Last day tomorrow,” Joel murmured. Avery leaned closer.

“Don’t wanna talk about that,” she said. She looked back up at the stars, hoping that they would have some answers, for how she was feeling, for how she was going to go back to a normal life after this.

Joel used a finger to pull Avery’s chin towards him again, to press one last kiss to her lips. He used the hand on her wrist to pull her to her feet.

“Better get to bed,” he said, and it sounded a little wistful.

As much as she didn’t want to leave Joel, Avery was cold, and her ass hurt from sitting on the concrete wall for so long. “Walk me to my door?” she asked. The cabin was only a couple hundred feet away, but she was going to hold onto every last moment. Joel held his arm out for her to loop hers through. “Don’t want to get attacked by a raccoon or something,” she added.

Joel ducked his head and stole one last kiss when he dropped her off, Avery’s hand already on the doorknob.

“See you tomorrow,” she whispered to his retreating back.

The last day of camp was always weird. The buses didn’t come to pick up the campers until after lunch, which left several weird hours of downtime to kill in between cabin cleanout and the time everyone actually left camp. Even with everyone still lingering and saying their goodbyes, with the cabins standing empty, camp had an eerie and melancholy feel.

Cleaning out the cabins was always a mad scramble of kids hunting down their belongings and cleaning up week-old messes. They only had half an hour after breakfast before they had to be out of the cabins, and there was never enough time.

“How does someone always lose a towel?” Avery asked Caroline. “How do you not realize you don’t have your swim towel?”

Joel had sat next to Avery at breakfast, like usual, but they hadn’t talked about the night before, or what was going to happen in the future. Avery was trying her best not to think about it. Which is to say, it was all she could think about.

Caroline waved her hand in front of Avery’s face, jarring her back to the present. “What’s going on in that head of yours?” she asked.

“Joel,” Avery admitted.

Caroline smirked. “I can’t believe it took you two that long to get your shit together. Thought for sure you’d be hooking up after the first night.”

Avery shoved at Caroline’s arm until she fell off the path and stepped into the grass, cackling. “Why am I friends with you.” Caroline stepped back on the sidewalk. “I don’t know what we’re gonna do. Summer camp is a whole different world from everything else.”

“I think you’re overthinking this,” Caroline told her. Ahead of them, Joel was helping one of the younger boys carry his heavy bag. Avery sighed.

“I don’t even think he lives around here,” Avery said, remembering when Joel had told them he was from New York. She had never thought to ask how exactly he’d come across their little camp, how he’d ended up in the Midwest.

Caroline shoved her back. “You know how you could find all that out?” she asked. “Talk to him.”

They had caught up to Joel. “Who are we talking to?” he asked, shooting Avery a knowing look.

They lost him in the chaos of trying to organize all the kids’ luggage into the proper bus piles, but he cornered Avery in the basement of the dining hall as she was about the head back upstairs.

“Hi,” she said. He was wearing his hat the right way around for once. Avery reached up and flipped it backwards, so she could pull him down for a quick kiss. Joel’s hand was warm on her waist.

“What was that for?” Joel asked, but he ducked down to steal another kiss. “Heard we needed to talk about something,” he went on, without waiting for Avery to respond. She poked him in the stomach, got him to back off from where he was caging her in against a wall.

“How does this work?” Avery asked. Joel had taken a step back, but he stayed close, close enough that Avery could see the way his eyebrows furrowed when she spoke.

“What do you mean?”

“Camp doesn’t last forever, Joel,” Avery said.

“So what, this has to end?” Joel asked.

Avery took another step away from Joel. “I don’t know, does it?” she snapped. “What even is ‘this,’ anyway?”

Joel stepped closer and took Avery’s hand. “I don’t know, but I know that I like you, and that I want to find out,” he said.

Avery looked up at Joel. The look in his eyes was earnest, genuine. She felt the fight drain out of her. “How do we do that?” she murmured.

“We’ll figure it out as we go, yeah?”

Avery smiled. “Yeah.”

When they made it back upstairs, Caroline was shuffling a deck of cards, and there was a pile of spoons stolen from the kitchen in the middle of the table. Joel was still holding tightly to Avery’s hand as they walked. A couple campers made room for them at the table, and his hand rested on her thigh instead. Avery leaned into his side.

“Deal us in,” she said.

[shivada-jade]

magical mischief (2)

hogwarts!au

character(s): diluc ➡ mentions: kaeya, sucrose, childe, venti, baal, diona warning(s): swearing <3

notes: it was supposed to be diluc, zhongli, and thoma but diluc's unexpectedly got longer than i hoped oOPS so i made a separate one for zhongli and thoma

part 1: kaeya, childe, albedo

gryffindor!

diluc

everyone knows of the gryffindor prefect. some people would mistake him as ravenclaw for being so studious; some people would mistake him for slytherin for being so closed off. in his first year of hogwarts, people often mistook him as hufflepuff for being friendly, overly polite, and outgoing. the hufflepuff mistake changed when he turned sixteen.

no one knows what happened to his sudden change of personality. no one but kaeya and a strange, childhood, ravenclaw friend that works with another even stranger ravenclaw.

sucrose pushes her glasses up, watching you create another explosion in her room.

you cough, wiping off the ashes from your face. the black smudges on your face don't go away. sucrose hands you a handkerchief and you gratefully accept it, finally getting the grime off.

"project sixty-two oh-eight is unsuccessful." the mint haired girl notes in a journal. "moving on to..."

you tilt your head, giving her a nod to go on but she stares at the space behind you. you turn and see kaeya, cracking open the door with a quiet knock. you frown, his uncharacteristic actions feel so weird. he usually just blasts open the door with a flick of his wand and sashays inside.

"kaeya?" you ask after apologizing to sucrose for interrupting her. "what's up?"

the slytherin clears his throat, opening the door more widely. "may i have a moment of your time? preferably not here, though."

he's so... formal. unlike himself.

you wave goodbye to sucrose and promise her to do another experiment next time then direct your attention back to the boy in front of you. "sure, outside?"

he nods. with a swish of his robes, he walks out. you note his posture is so unlike him. his strides are more rigid, less carefree. it's like a comparison from a beauty model to an uptight CEO.

he leads you right in a place where you can see the black lake. it's awfully farther than you expected. you thought he was going to lead to to the court yard, or at least the slytherin common room.

"kaeya, you're not acting like yourself." you comment.

"haha!" an airy laugh escapes from someone. you jolt, surprised from the unexpected guest. you feel two hands clamp your shoulders. "you're absolutely right, my dear."

you knit your brows, walking away from kaeya and... diluc. you slap a hand over your mouth. "wait, diluc- did you just laugh?!" did he just call you 'my dear' with a peppy tone

kaeya grumbles in displeasure. his arms cross while his brother leans on him with a carefree attitude.

you make an 'o' shape with your lips, piecing the clues together. "oh.. oh." you try to remain stoic and serious about the situation, seeing how uncomfy kaeya- no- how uncomfy diluc is.

you gasp out laughing, clutching your stomach. you crouch on the ground unable to control your laughs and look up to the brothers with tears in your eyes, "oh- please! you've switched bodies! how?!"

no wonder the slytherin had been acting all curt and polite. diluc in kaeya's body pinches the bridge of his nose. "the new first year did this," he starts to explain. "took one look at me and said, 'i will destroy the wine industry!' i don't even know how the kid knows of my family's business in the muggle world."

"placed a spell on us with weird words while having a quidditch practice match," kaeya finishes. "but really, who doesn't know of the winery? even the purest of purebloods know of it."

kaeya (still in diluc's body) looks at the red portion of his robes with a scrunched up nose. you're unable to tell if he hates how the robe feels on him. or if he hates wearing gryffindor's colours.

you hum, scratching your head. "you want me to undo the spell, right?"

"if it isn't a problem," diluc presses his lips together. with one glance at your unsure face, his shoulders droop. "you don't know how, do you..."

you smile sympathetically. "i'll try my best to undo it, but just in case, we need to find that first year, to the source itself"

kaeya raises his arms behind his now red hair, "great! it feels so weird to be seeing with both my eyes. or well, with both diluc eyes. the kid's name is diona. she's also in slytherin like me. diluc will lead you to her."

"what? why me," diluc asks.

"because you're the one who looks like me, duh! i cant go in the slytherin common room if i look like gryffindor prefect. just bring [y/n] with you. childe can also help-"

diluc glowers, "you still hang around that scum?"

"you still keep that vase?" kaeya throws sweet poison to diluc.

you chuckle nervously when you see them bring their wands out. "so, diona? let's find her."

kaeya raises a brow, and smirks. "toodles~! i dont want to spend another minute in this grump's body. that donna girl keeps trying to give me a pie- i dont want seven different pies." he wriggles his fingers to show his goodbye.

you shiver. it's so weird to see diluc- when you know diluc isn't actually diluc in his body. but his face keeps smiling and showing emotions with kaeya's soul inside. it's weird to not see only little quirks of his mouth or his typical sighs.

but really though, you could stare at kaeya's new face. it's strange seeing diluc with a scheming face: the one kaeya typically wears

"please at least try to not get into any trouble..." diluc purses his lips. "i'll try to act like you- you try to act like me."

you stare at diluc with owlish eyes. diluc? acting like kaeya?

it seems kaeya has the same reaction, because he freezes. luckily for him, he's quick witted, "oh? act like you?" he musters the grouchiest face and crosses his arms. "hello, i am diluc ragnvindr. i am a grouchy gryffindor. i hate kaeya. i hate lots of slytherins, especially the beautiful, gorgeous asshole named kaeya," he praises himself.

diluc fights the urge to throw him into the black lake. you laugh, dragging diluc away and leading him to where the slytherin common room is.

"i've only been here once, but i am acquainted with childe, so he can show us around." you bump his side playfully and stand outside the slytherin common room.

"CHILDE." you yell with your hands amplifying the noise.

"WHADDUP SHAWTY," you hear a shout from behind you.

you nod to diluc, encouraging him to somehow find a way to get the slytherin password from childe. you know he hates him, but you want to see dilucs words come true. you want to see how he acts as kaeya.

he lets out a shaky sigh and smiles so casually. the smile is so pretty, it hurts. it's a shame he doesn't do that with his own face.

childe beams seeing the two of you, "hey comrades! what are you all standing around for?" he prods around, eying diluc then snaps his fingers as if realizing something.

you wait a bit for diluc to say something, or act more, but it seems he's done his acting gig and goes straight to the point. "what's the password?"

you deadpan. childe's gonna question him now and he'd have to say he's actually dilu-

"yeah sure no problem! it's 'reckoning'"

diluc says the word to a blank wall and enters through the door. you squint your eyes and make a face at childe. "you're up to something, i know."

he shrugs and pushes you in after diluc. "tell diona i said hi."

...

you sit at the lounge, waiting for diluc to show up with diona. your brows crease, because diluc is right. childe knows something others don't. you don't recall telling childe you were trying to find diona.

you doubletake, seeing a hufflepuff drinking an absurd amount of butterbeer from who knows where. they hang their arms around a slender, purple haired slytherin who tries to push him off with disgust.

what is venti doing hanging out with the slytherin queen. he'll die-

"venti," you hiss, reaching out to try and let him live a bit longer.

he hiccups and waves you over. he 'whispers' to the slytherin next to him. oh he's in trouble now. "psst, baal. is that the one all the slytherins are talking about?" his whispers are shouts at this point.

the slytherins at the lounge freeze, hoping you havent caught on yet.

baal hits venti's head with a hand, "shut up. you're ruining the plan."

you snort seeing venti spill his drink on his clothes.

"but baal," venti downs what's left in his mug. "if that grumpy gryffindor wont confess to [y/n] then how on earth is the plan even going to work? he barely even talks to [y/n] these days because hee likes [y/n] too much." he says as if you're not in the room. he continues babbling even after baal kicks his shins, "kaeya's plan won't work if diona-"

oh shit so it's kaeya's plan and every slytherin is on it

baal drags venti out of the common room and throws him out and all the other slytherins hastily leave to their own rooms.

diluc coughs from behind you, now transformed to his normal self and with who you assume is diona. pink peppers his face while he tried to cover his face with his fiery hair. "um, i found diona. she swapped me back."

diona sticks her tongue out. "that ugly kaeya made a deal with me on something and i had to oblige! it's honestly so pathetic how you can't confess so deal or no deal: i had to do it, but the uglier bard ruined the whole plan so i turned you back."

diluc dusts imaginary dust off his cloak and grasps your hands. he looks down to his feet, still unsure of whether to do this or not. "well, you heard it all. it's a shame it couldn't be from me but-" he rambles. with other's he's confident, but with you he's a mess. "i hope you can accept my feelings. if not i understand, i'll go on with my day and you'll never have to see me."

he holds his breath, silently quivering with the lack of response you give. a hand lifts his chin up and he stares at your eyes, nervous.

you didn't say anything, but you smile and give his the warmest hug.

he knows the answer now.

he wraps his arms back, silently thanking kaeya for his idiotic plan. it's stupid, but it worked in the end.

BONUS!:

"KAEYA I WILL FUCKING MURDER YOU AND YOUR FRIENDS"

kaeya swirls a gold goblet with sparkling grape juice inside. he wolfishly grins and holds his cup up with a hand. "a toast for master diluc! for finally confessing, if people can even call it that."

he lowers it, placing it on his lips but never drinking it. he grins under the cup seeing diluc's wand in his hand flaming red.

"it's not even my fault." kaeya starts to explain his bullshit to diluc, "you can blame yourself. honestly, it gets tiring seeing you pine for so long and avoiding them like you weren't childhood friends with them."

the tips of diluc's ears turn red, not wanting to agree with his brother, but it was true. he was hopeless in the romantic department by himself. he can reject thousands and millions of people. he can have who ever he wants, but you aren't "whoever." you're the most special someone to him and that made him scared.

kaeya hands his drink to diluc, "do i get a thank you?"

diluc scoffs, yet accepts the drink. "thank you," he quietly mutters.

part 3: thoma, zhongli

[whileyoursleeping]

Here

Hello all, I wrote a lil oneshot post-canon for the season 4 finale. Shameless fluff. You’ve been warned. This has also been posted on AO3 - link HERE: https://archiveofourown.org/works/31520699

TW: Mentions of the shooting; mentions of PTSD.

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

Buck wears socks to bed.

It’s disturbing in a way. Eddie doesn’t know anyone above the age of ten who still wears socks to bed – except, apparently, Buck.

Buck is also still sleeping on his couch.

Eddie’s been home for a week. He’s mastered the on-off motion of his sling for the shower, he’s sleeping okay – as okay as anyone can while being literally fucking shot for no good reason, and not even in Afghanistan, at that – and he’s not in significant amounts of pain, anymore. The meds have taken care of that, and he’s taking them dutifully, because he might not like them but Chris needs him. Chris needs him more a little stoned than he does bedridden from pain.

But it’s been a week, and Buck is still sleeping on his couch.

It’s not even comfortable. Buck’s not small enough to fit on there without cramping up. And Eddie just – kind of hasn’t told him to go home, and Buck just kind of isn’t going home, he’s more or less just ferrying his things back and forth between Eddie’s coffee table and his own apartment, studiously avoiding eye contact each time, as if Eddie is going to catch his eye and say – well, say what? “Go home? Thanks for taking care of my son and carrying my lifeless body to the fire truck and risking your fucking neck again to save my life and keeping a vigil – but go home?” Not fucking likely.

So he’s sleeping on Eddie’s couch. And Eddie’s not sure how to approach it – or if he even wants to approach it. Buck was scared. He said as much, and other people said as much, and Eddie remembers Buck picking him up and putting him in the ambulance. Fire truck? He doesn’t remember the details, he just – remembers Buck picking him up.

If he’s honest with himself – and he’s trying to be after that whole “follow your own heart” crap Carla pulled on him – he doesn’t particularly want Buck to leave. Buck saved his life, and Eddie feels weirdly safer with him here. It’s nice to have him around in the mornings – even if he looks tired. Even if Eddie’s couch has not been useable as a couch in over a week now.

He wanders into the living room that morning to find that Buck is already rubbing his eyes, sleepily, looking totally worn out and like he’d like to go back to sleep, but can’t. He sits when he hears Eddie enter – a dog standing at attention.

“Okay?” he checks worriedly.

Eddie smiles drowsily. “You know the pain meds keep me pleasantly high almost all day, right?”

“Yeah.” Buck doesn’t look soothed. “But you’re okay?”

“Yeah, Buck. I’m okay.” Eddie pats his shoulder on the way past, yawning. “Breakfast?”

“I’ll make pancakes.”

~*~

Buck is exhausted.

Eddie knows this because Eddie wakes up a lot at night and goes wandering. He does this because despite the pain pills, he’s just not moving enough to be tired, and his normal army sleep schedule never really left him. He’s like a fucked-up, traumatised meerkat – awake every two to three hours, patrolling the perimeter, looking for enemies.

Just so happens that his perimeter is the length of his hallway between Chris’s room and the couch, where Buck is decidedly not resting peacefully. His enemy, at the moment? The Roomba. Chris has stuck several dozen googly eyes to it and, at one point, had armed it with a butter knife. It’s mildly terrifying. Butter-knife-less at the moment – but terrifying. Eddie squints at it as he moves towards the kitchen.

(“Because it’s funny, Dad,” he’d giggled. “Maybe it’ll make Buck laugh.”

Buck had laughed, but in a strained, I’m-so-tired-I-want-to-cry kind of way. Eddie’s dreading coming off his pain pills for the pure fact that it’ll probably be him next. PTSD is a bitch.)

He was going to get water, but that requires moving through the living room. Buck is crashed out on the couch – his duffel is spilling over on the floor, his phone facedown on the coffee table. Eddie can see him relatively well with the street lights and moon lighting up the smallish living room – he doesn’t look like he’s sleeping peacefully. In fact, even as Eddie watches, Buck twitches.

He goes ramrod still, abruptly not thinking about his heavily-armed Roomba or meerkat analogies. He is suddenly, painfully, sober – the pain pills feel burned out of him as he watches Buck twist, his fingers twitching and then curling into the duvet, face scrunched.

A nightmare. Buck is having a nightmare. Eddie’s not high anymore. The pills are no longer filling his head with cotton and fuzz – every single sense feels alight like it hasn’t in two weeks, tuned in to Buck, struggling, on the couch.

What’s he supposed to do? What can he do?

He watches, alarmed, as Buck gasps and jerks – his stupid socked feet flail and kick into the arm of the couch, and the duvet goes flying back. Buck’s upright, at least semi-upright, on one elbow, panting and scrabbling against the thin, shitty mattress – for what? Purchase? A hand to hold? A memory to cling to, something to soothe him through the remainder of the night?

The room’s quiet. Eddie’s frozen, unsure of what to do. Is this what it was like after the tsunami?

After a moment, Buck makes a sound – a whimper, or a cry, or some awful hybrid of the two – and collapses back, rolls onto his side, away from the TV, and curls up, not bothering to adjust the duvet. His feet – he’s wearing white socks tonight – flex, toes clenching.

Buck drags the corner of the duvet up over his face. The next noise he makes is very clearly a quiet sob and Eddie – oh, he cannot stand this. He’s not going to watch it any longer.

It’s not like he doesn’t know Buck hasn’t been sleeping, at least not well. He did the first night – eleven hours, actually – but every night after that has been plagued with nightmares. He’s heard Buck rustling around or pacing and watched him try to put on a brave face every morning at breakfast, and he can’t do it anymore.

His feet cross the floorboards. He sits on the edge of the couch – Buck flinches – and puts his free hand on Buck’s shoulder, rubs gently.

Buck sniffles. He doesn’t move for a long time, keeps the duvet up over his face. He doesn’t make any more noises, but his shoulders shake, and Eddie remembers – I kinda lost it when I told him you got shot. I’m sorry, I should’ve held it together.

Eddie wonders when anyone reasonably expected Buck to hold it together.

Buck moves suddenly – his fingers grip at Eddie’s, and they’re shaking. He holds on and – well, if Buck wants to hold hands, it’s not like they haven’t done it before. Eddie held his hand for an hour or more while they were getting him out from under the ladder truck two years ago. Eddie’s happy to hold his hand.

He doesn’t know how to help. Buck’s still sniffling, his face angled away from Eddie’s. He’s happy to take the comfort, but not happy to let Eddie know he’s crying, apparently.

They sit like that for a while. Eddie’s helpless and almost angry for it. It’s not like he hasn’t suffered – he has. It’s going to take therapy, physical and mental, to get past this. But Buck – Buck watched it happen. Watched him almost die. Buck’s not stoned and he wasn’t shot and there’s no buffer between him and the memories. For the first time, Eddie is angry at the team – how has no one noticed? How has no one cared?

Buck drags a hand across his eyes. “Sorry,” he whispers, his voice cracking. “Bet you’re sick of me crying.”

“What?” Eddie asks. “No, I – I am, but not for the reason you’re thinking.”

Buck nods into the pillow. His legs flex – he has to be cold; the air is definitely cool and Buck hates cold weather with a passion. He’s wearing socks and boxers and a hoodie and all of that thoroughly confuses Eddie – he wants to arrange the duvet properly but he can’t with Buck clinging to his hand. That’s fine too.

He thinks about it for a moment. Problem – Buck is sad; Buck is scared. Buck is clearly traumatised. Nobody appears to have addressed that last one.

Solution. Well, Chris seems to help a lot. But Chris is asleep, and Eddie can’t really properly address the trauma thing.

But he can maybe make Buck feel less alone.

He removes his hand from Buck’s shoulder, clumsily adjusts the duvet, and then climbs under it, adjusting until his side is pressed to Buck’s back and he can feel Buck trembling horribly against him. His legs twitch; his socks brush Eddie’s bare feet.

“Why do you wear socks to bed?” Eddie asks.

There’s a long pause. Then, “That’s what you want to know?”

“Sure.”

“I… don’t know?”

Eddie makes a face at the ceiling. Buck hasn’t rolled over. “You don’t know?” he asks dubiously. “Are your feet cold?”

“Not particularly.”

“Do you wear socks to bed in summer?”

“I… sort of do it all year round – Eddie, what’re you doing?”

He doesn’t know, truthfully, beyond trying to cheer Buck up. Although, maybe he just – needs to cry? Sometimes when Chris is upset he just needs to cry. No solutions, just… comfort.

He pushes against Buck’s back more, and, because he can’t reach Buck’s hands like this, links their ankles together. Buck shifts – but only to stop the knobs of their bones rubbing uncomfortably. He sighs, shakily, but when breath finally leaves his lungs entirely, he almost feels steadier.

“Thanks, Eddie,” he whispers.

~*~

Buck rolls during the night, a soft breath leaving him. Eddie’s only aware of it because it ghosts across his throat – Buck’s rolled towards him.

The mattress shifts. Buck is deliciously warm against Eddie’s side – his socked feet brush against Eddie’s shins, a few times, almost deliberately. Buck sighs again, settles.

The air goes still. Eddie can smell something new and different, faintly – the couch bed smells like Buck, like the woody, fresh scent of his aftershave and a little spicy and like Buck’s own shampoo. There’s something indefinable about it – something that’s just how Buck smells.

Eddie yawns. His jaw cracks. His shoulder, at the moment, doesn’t hurt, even when he shifts and looks for Buck’s hand, clumsily – he finds it, pulls it up until he can link their fingers together and rest their joined palms on his own belly. He squeezes. Are you there?

A second passes before Buck squeezes back. His palms are rough and hot and his thumb nervous where it brushes Eddie’s knuckles.

Yes. I’m here.

Eddie yawns. He goes back to sleep.

~*~

The sunlight punching through the living room window wakes him up.

He blinks. He’s on his back still – his feet are cold. When he turns his head to the side, the first thing he sees is Buck’s face – buried somewhere in the vicinity of Eddie’s shoulder, eyes closed, mouth slightly open.

He’s drooling. It’s a little cute. Eddie raises his head – his shoulder twinges unhappily – and looks to the end of the couch.

Yep. Buck’s still wearing socks. His legs are curled up, almost like he’s trying to keep warm, and he’s more or less pressed to Eddie’s side, but not quite on top of him.

Eddie’s struck with the sudden though that if his shoulder wasn’t injured, he’d roll over – put an arm over Buck and let Buck hide as long as he needed to. He can’t do that right now, and the impulse is frightening if only because it doesn’t come from the so-called brotherly love he’s continued to tell himself is what he feels for Buck.

It’s not so frightening he can’t deal with it though. Quietly. And he might not be able to hug Buck right now – but Buck slept through till morning, the first time in more than a week in all likelihood. He even looks peaceful.

If Eddie does pursue this – whatever this is, this little, fledgling, hopeful thing in his chest – he can only hope that Buck reciprocates. It’ll take time, of course. Plenty of it. But – Buck is already Chris’s other parent in the ways that matter and he’s kept bedside vigils and they slept here, last night, holding hands for the majority of it. Is there a lot left to think about? Eddie doesn’t think so.

He raises his head again. Looks down.

Except those socks, maybe. He’s not sure he’ll ever get used to that.

[sicparvismorrigan]

Big Fun

Sam helps you feel better after you lose your temper.

Uncharted/Sam Drake/Post-U4

Viewpoint: 1st person gender-neutral reader

Warnings: Swearing

Word Count: ~2.6k [complete]

Okay, outing myself a little here in the hopes that it’ll be a comfort to at least one other person. This happens…more often than I would like. I’m working on it.

This came about because of a discussion with @writingawaymylife thanks Aerin!

Read on Ao3

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, are you shitting me!”

You finally lose what little patience you had left and punch the wall. Underneath the cheap wallpaper it’s solid concrete and you instantly regret your feral outburst. There’s a millisecond of nothing before the pain comes rushing in, and then you’re bent double, clutching the wrist of your injured hand with the other and groaning.

You try and flex your fingers to check if they’re broken, but you can’t really tell. It’s too late. Your hand is numb within the minute. Shit, that’s really going to hurt in the morning.

You’re clumsy anyway, it’s the way it’s always been and the way it always will be. You know what you need to do, how you need to move, but your body won’t respond how you want it to. You’re always dropping plates and glasses, smashing them to bits. Usually when you’re already running late, and then you have to waste more time by scurrying around looking for a dustpan to get rid of the evidence.

You’re forever bumping into things, stubbing your toes and taking layers of skin off your shoulders and shins when you walk straight into doorframes. When you try and pour things you spill them more often than not. Yet more mess to clean up, yet more time wasted.

Your fingers just won’t work sometimes, often so badly it takes you multiple attempts to tie your shoes. And when it’s cold you’re practically useless. You just give up and tuck the laces into the shoes, feeling them rub through your socks, promising yourself to fix them once you’re back in the warm, everything will work out as long as you don’t trip over your own feet before you get there.

It’s the most frustrating thing in the world. Normally you can shrug it off, you’re used to it by now. But things had been going wrong all day, even without your clumsiness, and matters just came to a head.

You remember exactly what caused you to erupt into expletives and punch the wall. It had already been a frustrating day, work was a pain in the ass, as usual. All of the most awkward customers in the world had decided to descend upon you right before your break. By the time you got home you were in a pretty foul mood. Too wound up to relax, you decided to take a load of laundry downstairs to put in the washer.

You attempted to, anyway. After trying and failing 3 times to pick up the same damn sock from the floor of your room that your fingers just would not grasp, you’d given up and kicked it away under the bed in anger. Oh sure, couldn’t pick it up but you managed to land a furious kick the first time around.

Though you were trying your best to manoeuvre around the doorframe with the pile of clothes you still bumped off it with your shoulder, muttering ouch as the latch scraped your arm. Then you overcompensated by moving too much in the other direction and stubbed your toe on the corner of the door. Instant pain that made you see red.

The pile of clothes in your arms were promptly thrown on the floor in a fit of rage. That was when you punched the wall. And now you’re a sorry state, fingers throbbing and face red, trying not to scream.

Oh shit, you hear Sam moving around in his room down the hall. There’s no way he didn’t hear you. Well, this is embarrassing. There isn’t time to pick everything up and hightail it down the stairs before he catches you, not with your mangled claw out of action.

You hear his door creak open. You slowly turn around and stare guiltily at your roommate as he pokes his head around the doorframe.

“I heard…” He takes in the sight of the pile of laundry scattered on the floor and you holding up your tingling hand, still hopping from foot to foot. “Jeez, again?”

***

Sam is your friend Elena’s brother-in-law, or something like that. You aren’t clear on how exactly they’re related, but you knew her from college, long before she got married. She heard you were looking for a new roommate a few months back, and she got in touch, telling you she knew just the person.

You baulked initially when you got a phone call from her after sparse contact over the last few years. You were actually enjoying living by yourself again, though money was a bit tighter. Your last roommate was pleasant enough at first, however they soon turned out to be a nightmare, it was a relief to get rid of them. But you liked Elena a lot, and you did owe her one or two favours. For some reason she thought you and Sam would hit it off.

And much to your surprise, you did. You were a bit nervous of him to begin with, but Sam turned out to be so laid back he was almost horizontal. The perfect foil to your occasionally manic energy. Living with him was easy, there weren’t any awkward silences. If you were in the same room but didn’t feel like talking, he was fine with it.

Your apartment was pretty basic but he seemed happy there with you. He even made you dinner sometimes when you’d had a tough day and you’d just come in and flop face down on the sofa. Sam would wordlessly stand up and then half an hour later come back through to get you with the same phrase every time. “You gonna eat something, or what?”

Elena had reassured you he probably wouldn’t even be there a lot of the time. He just needed somewhere to touch base every few weeks, she turned out to be correct.

You didn’t even really know what Sam did. He didn’t appear to have a job, he was almost always home during the day and seemed to spend a lot of time on your Playstation (“our Playstation” according to Sam). But he came up with his half of the rent every month and then disappeared again for a few weeks. You didn’t ask, not your business. You’d started to find the house too quiet and empty when he wasn’t there and you were always waiting to hear the keys in the lock and his joking “Honey, I’m home!” whenever he came back.

After moving in it didn’t take him long to pick up on your quirks, or notice that you were more accident-prone than the average person. It had led to the only argument you’d ever had with him.

One time while making dinner you’d dropped a plate and cursed yourself as it cracked in half on the tiled floor. You’d stared daggers at him, daring him to say a word about it. You totally weren’t expecting what he did next.

He’d just looked at you dead in the eyes as he pushed another plate off the counter. Exactly like a cat would.

You blew up at him. “What in the hell did you do that for? Now there’s twice as many sharp bits to clear up!”

“It’s just a plate.” He had shrugged, leaning back on the counter.

“What’s your damn point?”

“That it really doesn’t matter, and that I don’t care that we’ve had to replace pretty much everything in this kitchen since I moved in.”

You narrow your eyes at him. “Not everything. You owe me a plate now.”

“You know, maybe we should invest in plastic ones.”

“We are adults Sam! And it’s not good for the environment.”

“And the current… situation is not good for your bank account!”

“Just because you’re used to plastic cutlery.” Kind of a cheap shot, but you’re still mad. You’d gathered he’d done jail time, but you didn’t dare ask what for, or how long. You caught him saying weird things sometimes and eventually realised it was because his concept of time was a little warped. He kept referring to the 90’s like it was only last week, instead of nearly 20 years ago.

Sam just laughed at your plastic cutlery comment, not at all offended. “Yeah, and I like living here so much I’m willing to do that if it means you’ll stop beating yourself up.”

“I’ll think about it.” You grumbled. But you got some plastic cups and plates on your way home from work the next day. Sam was right, it was a lot better, though it made you feel like a kid again.

As you’d gotten more comfortable with Sam you’d given up trying to hide the fact you were a walking health hazard and didn’t stifle your curses anymore.

At first he seemed amused by your clumsiness, he even laughed the first few times you did something stupid. But he quickly realised how upsetting your lack of control over your own limbs was for you, because it happened so damn often. He stopped making fun as soon as he noticed you couldn’t laugh it off with him. It wasn’t a joke to you. From then on he’d been surprisingly nice, he always attempted to make you feel better when it got too much.

***

Even so, right now as you were having a stand-off with him in the hallway, you gritted your teeth and tried to keep your voice even. Stay calm, he’s just concerned. “Yes, again.”

“What did it ever do to you? Y’know, standing there, being all wall-like…stopping our house from collapsing?”

“I lost my temper again. Punched the damn thing.”

He shook his head. “I’ve told you, you’ve got to look after those hands.”

“But they’re so fuc-“ You stop and sigh when he raises an eyebrow. Calm. “Flipping useless. I’m useless.”

“Not true.” Sam steps out of his room and walks in your direction. On the way he kicks a rogue sock back onto the main pile of mess on the floor. “Take that, you scoundrel.”

“I just wish my brain worked normally.”

“Your brain is fine. Your music taste on the other hand.” Sam moved his hand up and down in an ‘ehhhhhh’ motion and shook his head. “No no.”

He’s kidding, of course he is. Damn his sense of humour. But you don’t feel like smiling just yet. It still fucking hurts. “I think I broke something this time.” You really thumped the wall. You wouldn’t be surprised if you’ve actually done damage.

“You want me to check?”

“Please.”

You hold out your hand for him and he carefully wiggles and stretches your fingers one by one, watching your face for any reaction. You wince once he gets to your thumb. Oh, that one hurts the worst.

“No, thumb on the inside? For real?” Sam looked at you in disbelief.

“Apparently so.”

“That’ll learn you. That’s like rule number one of punching anything.”

You sigh. “Anything broken?”

“No, we’re all good. But keep your thumb on the outside next time or you really will break it.”

“Surprisingly, I wasn’t really focusing on technique that much. Oh hey, you should check this one again.” You hold your middle finger aloft.

“Very funny.” But he smirks at you, knowing he’s helping you feel better.

“Come on, you do that one to me all the time.”

“Learning from the best, what can I say? Oh, shit…” Sam’s staring past you.

“What, what’s wrong?” You glance back in the direction he’s looking.

Sam moves to the wall, right where you just punched and looks at you in faux-panic. “I need a medic!”

“Really?” You watch in amazement as he starts to do something to the wall which looks an awful lot like the chest compressions from CPR. Wow, he’s very committed to this bit.

“We’re losing them!”

“Sam, there’s barely a scuff on the wallpaper. I definitely came off worse.”

“I need a crash cart stat!” He yells at nobody in particular.

“Jesus Christ. You’ve been watching too many daytime medical dramas.” You just shake your head, but the corners of your mouth are threatening to twitch upwards.

“Have not…Beeeeeeeeeep! Aw, we lost them. RIP.” He finally steps away from the wall and shrugs. “I tried.”

“You’re such a goofball.” At least you’re smiling now.

“Hey, it worked didn’t it? Frown upside down.” He squeezes your shoulder. “You really did a number on that wall though, huh? I heard it all the way down there. Hell, I felt it. Made the stuff on the shelves rattle.”

“Yeah, I’ve had a bad day. A really bad day. People are assholes.” You glance down at the pile of laundry still littering the floor. “I should pick this up.”

“Do you have to right now?”

“Well, yeah…I was on the way downstairs to wash it.”

“I’m not sure the structural integrity of our house could take it if you had another…incident on the way to the washer. That wall’s concrete but you’re gonna end up going clean through one of the others. Then you’ll lose our security deposit.”

“My security deposit.”

“Right, right, right. That doesn’t mean you can punch holes wherever you like.”

“You could fix it though if I did?”

“Yeah, I guess. Y’know, I’ve never really asked you about it before, but talk me through it, what goes on in your head right before you flip out?”

“I don’t know, I just…see red and it happens before I can stop it.”

“Uh-huh.” He’s nodding. Bizarrely, he doesn’t look too freaked out to you admitting you pretty much go into berserker mode over minor inconveniences. “I know you can’t do anything about having 2 left feet, but you can do something about letting it get to you.”

“What, count to 10 or something?” You ask, mocking. Like you haven’t heard that one before.

“Yeah, seriously.” You get the impression he’s talking from experience. “It works, don’t question it.”

Screw it, he’s being really nice. At least he understands it’s not because you’re an idiot, it’s because your brain isn’t wired like most peoples. And he was right about the plastic plates. “Alright. I’ll try.”

“And you come tell me if this thing pisses you off again, I’ll deal with it.” Sam shakes his fist at the wall. He really is an idiot sometimes. But he does make you laugh. He’s your idiot.

“Gotcha.” You give him a thumbs-up with both hands, wincing again, the movement hurts.

He gives you a sly look. “How about you flex those fingers, and we play a game awhile. Crash Bandicoot maybe?”

“Again? I’ve got loads to do….” You fidget anxiously. you know what he’s up to though. Trying to get you to chill out.

“Just for a little bit. Scared I’ll beat ya?”

“Pffft, not even close, but I’m at a disadvantage this time.” There’s still no way he can win.

“I resent that, I’m getting pretty good.”

“You just mash the buttons.” It’s a fact and he knows it.

“C’mon, c’mon. I gotta at least beat your high score before I have to leave again.”

“Okay, okay, fine. I’m in. Let’s go!” You nod in the direction of the stairs.

“Loser deals with that later on.” He points at the abandoned pile of laundry on the floor.

“Deal, don’t go easy on me.” You step around it and follow him to the sitting room. Even with a crippled hand you’re pretty sure you can thrash him. “Elena and I used to play this in college, wonder if she still has it…”

***

Thank you for reading!

Yeah…I am not just clumsy, I am more like ‘danger to myself and others’ levels of uncoordinated. But I can’t be the only one! Don’t worry, Sam’s got your back ;) Also the title is the song Big Fun from Heathers the Musical because once again it has invaded my life. The whole soundtrack has been on a loop for days now. I LOVE IT. Punch the wall and start a fight!

- Sam Drake and Elena Fisher belong to Naughty Dog/the Uncharted creative team and I (sadly) take no ownership of them.

- This work is not for profit though it belongs to me and I must be credited when copying or reposting elsewhere

- As mentioned before reader is intended to be gender-neutral so please interpret this fic however you like. This is my first x Reader fic published and first g/n reader viewpoint I’ve attempted so I hope I did okay. I myself identify as mostly female so that’s what I normally write because it’s easier for me to connect with. But this was fun.

[kaitycole]

the countdown

Summary: There’s a countdown on your wrist, but what happens when it randomly resets?

Pairing: Daichi x Reader, Hinata x Yachi (side pair)

Warning: Fluff, I guess?

Word Count: 3578

Prompt: Soulmate AU: There is a clock countdown on your wrist to when you meet your soulmate

A/N: Part of the @celestialarchiveshq​ soulmate collab

Y/N

It has always annoyed you, the ticking clock on the underside of your wrist, to the point that you started wearing things to cover it. Over the years, you watched people close to you obsess over the clock, a few of your college friends had dropped out because the constant partying and searching to meet their soulmate seemed to overshadow their grades.

When you were younger the idea of the clock reaching 0:00 excited you, meeting the person who was supposed to know you best, who wouldn’t want that? But as you matured, you started to believe that soulmates don’t always mean forever, they don’t always mean romantic partners, so how could you stay excited over something that could lead to a huge disappointment? Not to mention the depressing thought of what if your soulmate was the romantic type and they weren’t attracted to you. That could happen, right?

What if they preferred long hair but you had just cut it? Or the opposite? What if you had just colored your hair a color that reminded them of an ex? That thought would put you in a tailspin. What if they had exes? Even with the soulmate system, people still found themselves attracted to other people. It made you think of that trashy MTV show where everyone has a perfect match, but there’s always one couple that finds out they aren’t matches, but they refuse to move on. What if your soulmate had someone like that?

You drop your head down onto your desk, the loud bang catches your coworker’s attention as she walks back towards you with two mugs of coffee. Not that she needs it, just like her soulmate, she’s like an endless ball of energy.

“Still upset about last weekend?”

You slowly lift your head, rubbing your forehead knowing you’ll have some embarrassing red mark. Yachi Hitoka has to be one of the sweetest people you’ve ever met, she’s always there for anyone who needs it, helps out whenever she can, and at first you were worried when you met her. You instantly became protective of her, not wanting anyone to take advantage of her kindness, but then you saw her lay down the law when it came to someone missing a deadline for one of the ad campaigns and all you could do was smile proudly.

“I just can’t believe I was this close,” you hold up your hand, using your index finger and thumb to show a small amount, “to meeting them and they just disappeared.”

*                      * Over the weekend, Yachi’s soulmate Hinata Shoyo came in from Osaka to visit and the three of you ended up attending the Bunkyo Plum Blossom Festival. Despite being the third wheel, you couldn’t help but find yourself smiling, watching just how well they not only complimented their similarities but their differences as well.

You glanced down at your wrist, for no particular reason and felt the wind get knocked out from your lungs. Yachi turned to ask if you had heard her before she stopped walking, backing up to be at your side.

“Y/N, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t find the words, your mind completely blanked as you held up your wrist, showing her just how low the clock had gotten.

00:01:13

00:01:12

00:01:11

“Oh my gosh! Oh my gosh!” Yachi started to jump up and down, causing a small scene on the tightly packed sidewalk. Hinata tilted his head, waiting to be filled in as the two of you walked back towards him.

“Kinda romantic, Y/N. Meeting your soulmate at a festival.” Yachi now had her arm looped with yours, scanning the sidewalks.

“It’s never been this low before.” You said casually, but a knot started to form in your stomach. It felt as if every emotion you could imagine started to wash over you, grabbing ahold of you and making you realize just how real the situation could be.

What if they didn’t like you? What if it was a best friend type of soulmate? What if they simply brushed you off, telling you that they were going to be with someone that wasn’t their soulmate?

What if…?

What if…?

What if…?

Yachi hand slightly squeezed your arm, pulling you from the anxiety that had seemed into your chest, tightening with each breath. “Look at your wrist.”

00:00:20

You started to look around, wondering briefly if your soulmate had been looking around for you, eyes on the clock waiting to bump into you.

00:00:13

Your stomach dropped and you walked over to a wall, leaning against it with fear that you’d just drop if you didn’t have support. Wasn’t this supposed to be an exciting moment in your life? If so, then why did you currently feel like you were about to melt into a puddle of nerves?

00:00:09

“Are you okay?”

You glanced up, seeing two uniformed officers standing around you. Hinata quickly drug Yachi up to the brunette officer, the three seeming to be familiar with each other while raven-haired officer was waiting for your reply.

“Oh, uhm, yes.” You felt dumb, but you held up your wrist, “just a little nervous.”

00:00:07

He let out a small chuckle, “I’m sure things will be fine. My husband ran into a light post when we first met.”

Yachi waved you over, you could hear her mention your name to the other officer but your movement halted when the officers’ radios crackled, a voice requesting back-up. The two officers quickly excused themselves, a few other officers gathering around them before they left, disappearing around the corner.

When you saw a person walking towards you, you glanced down, wondering it this person could be it, but something in you cracked noticing a drastic change in the clock on your wrist.

1368:59:52

*                      * 1200:03:25

50 days.

That’s how long you have to wait to meet your soulmate. But would you ever meet them? You had asked around and no one else had ever heard of someone’s clock restarting, what if you didn’t actually have a soulmate? If it was just some glitch, your clock just resetting to some random time like an electronic clock after the power cuts out and then back on.

Absentmindedly, you sip on the coffee Yachi had brought you, looking out the window wondering that if it wasn’t a glitch, had your soulmate being eagerly looking for you that day too? Were they just as upset that your clocks reset? A smile twitches on the corner of your lips, maybe the whole soulmate thing wasn’t so bad after all.

*          *          *          * Daichi

Sawamura Daichi tilts his head back, squeezing his eyes shut as he lets out a yawn. Daichi is tired and stressed, all he wants is to sink into his bed and sleep. At least until his clock hit zero and his soulmate was standing in front of him.

He pulls himself up in the chair, rubbing his eyes before glancing down at the countdown that’s on his wrist. He isn’t someone that spends large amounts of time staring and obsessing over each tick of the clock, but just a few weeks ago, it seemed to have reset and that alone caught his attention.

960:12:46

40 days.

Part of Daichi wants to say the clock on his wrist doesn’t bother him, that it’s not something he thinks of often, but that’s a lie. His dedication to his job, to protecting not just his loved ones, but those around him often painted him as a strict, by the book type of guy. The guy that wouldn’t bother to think of love or soulmates, being too focused on his job, but Daichi is just another hopeless romantic.

Which is exactly why he often wonders how it will fit in with the whole soulmate aspect. Even with the ups and downs his job brought, the uncertainty that sometimes came with each day, he has never regretted his choice of profession. But while those things didn’t sway his own personal opinion, it leaves him wondering how his soulmate would feel about it. If it would be something that they’d be able to accept and understand why he went that route.

What if they couldn’t accept it? What if they asked him to change careers? What if it was the straw that broke the camel’s back and tore them apart?

What if…?

What if…?

“Keep it up and you get forehead wrinkles.”

He feels a warm hand on his shoulder, turning to see his silver-haired best friend smiling at him. Sugawara sits across from Daichi, the two finally having a free day to meet and catch up.

“Keep worrying about me and your hair will go white.” “Take that back right now Daichi!” Suga rolls his eyes as the former captain starts laughing.

After ordering drinks, the conversation sways to Suga and his new group of students before it inevitably goes to Daichi and his soulmate mark. When he called the former setter, he, like everyone else, had never heard of a mark resetting, but he refused to let his best friend dwell on it. Even now, Suga places a comforting hand on Daichi’s forearm as he gives him a comforting smile.

“Maybe fate decided it wasn’t the right time.” Suga offers, he didn’t have too much room to talk. His current significant other isn’t his soulmate and yet he refuses to let it go, saying that what he has makes him happy and that’s all that should matter.

Daichi sighs, taking a sip on his drink, one of his fears sitting on the tip of his tongue. “What if I end up arresting my soulmate?” “You’d have a pretty unique meet-up story. Ow!” Suga rubs his shin, Daichi sitting there with a smirk on his face.

“That aside, it doesn’t change the fact that it reset in Tokyo and I was just there temporarily.”

“Visit on a day off.” Suga shrugs, “though you were there for a festival that attracts tons of people.”

“I hope you’re better at advice when it comes to your students.”

Suga rolls his eyes, shoulders drooping in defeat, he really was out of ideas. “When exactly did it reset?”

“Not sure, it was low before I ran into Hinata, but by the time I got back from a call it had already reset.”

“Was there anyone else around? Besides Yachi.” Daichi just shakes his head, finishing off his drink before he twists his wrist causing the ice to circle around the glass. Then it hits him, there had been someone else, but he didn’t get a good glance, his partner was talking to them. He simply shrugged it off back then, but now he wondered if maybe, just maybe they had been his soulmate.

*          *          *          * Y/N

720:03:36

30 days

You’re dancing around your apartment, headphone in as you straighten up the throw blankets on the couch, so you didn’t hear the knocking on the door or the voice calling you until you turned and let out a scream.

You’re doubled over, panting as you struggle to catch your breath, Yachi apologizing frantically and repeatedly until you finally stand up, telling her you were just a bit startled.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” The worry on her face as plain as day.

“I swear,” you flop down on the couch, “what’s up?” “Oh yeah!” She instantly perks up, “my high school is doing an alumni volleyball game and Hinata’s going to be in it. Thought you might want to join!”

“When is it?” You know this is her way of saying ‘you can’t meet your soulmate if only go to work and home’ but you were pretty confident that if you waited long enough, they could just end up moving in next door.

“Next month! It’ll be so much fun!” She pulls her hands up to her chest, putting on her best pouty face, “please Y/N.”

You want to just tell her no because who knows what you could end up doing that clashes with her plans. Plus, if you had counted correctly and your clock didn’t decide to reset again, that would be close to when you were supposed to meet your soulmate. And you had been in Tokyo when it almost hit 0, so they had to be here, right?

“Yeah, of course.” You gave her a smile as she gave you a quick hug, telling you just how excited Hinata and the rest of the crows would be, apparently, she bragged about you to all her former classmates. She excuses herself to make a call, most likely to Hinata, and you take the time to sigh, you had never cared about your soulmate before, what was so different now?

*          *          *          * Daichi

“Did you just put in for time off?” His partner Ito teases, sitting down at his desk that’s next to Daichi’s.

“I’ve taken time off before.”

“Three years ago, doesn’t count.”

“It was—” Daichi starts to protest before he realizes that Ito’s right, the last time was just before Ito was assigned his partner and it had been for one of his sibling’s graduation.

“This much be important then.”

He shrugs, “just getting together with some old teammates from high school.”

Ito smirks, “should I call you captain to help take you back?”

“Don’t even.” Daichi shakes his head, getting up before heading to the breakroom. Maybe meeting up with old friends would help take his mind off the whole Tokyo debacle. Glancing down, he signs when he sees his countdown.

480:52:46

20 days.

*          *          *          * Y/N

“My mom said that you are more than welcomed to stay, she has the guest room ready.” Yachi beams, bringing you the usual after lunch coffee she gets. For the last few days Yachi has been eagerly gushing about the upcoming alumni event, having the entire weekend planned out with tons of things to do.

“I don’t want to impose.”

“You aren’t, if anything she’s excited to finally meet you!”

You haven’t had the courage to actually tell Yachi that you no longer wanted to go, that you would rather just stay at home instead of being the one that brings down the mood. The countdown on your wrist has all but consumed you lately and as you get closer and closer, you just want to forget about it. People lived happily without them, right? Who was fate anyways, trying to tell people who they should and shouldn’t be with. If you put in the effort, anything could work, right?

Part of you knows that’s not true, you watched someone try to date their someone who wasn’t their soulmate. They were blissfully happy and everything seemed wonderful, until one of them met their soulmate and soon their relationship had burnt out. It seemed no matter what, that bond from a soulmate just overfloods anything else.

But then again, when you watched just how much Yachi lights up when she hears from Hinata or when someone mentions him, you couldn’t help but want that too. Wanting someone who acted like they were seeing you for the first time each time they saw you, being able to just know how you felt with one look. You look down at the clock again, wondering if maybe it had reset because you didn’t have the right mindset back then. That if maybe fate somehow knew you weren’t ready yet, if it took almost having them to losing them for you to finally realize just how much a soulmate could offer you when you let your guard down.

240:26:01

10 days.

*          *          *          * Daichi

Night patrols are something Daichi never really thought he’d find himself enjoying, but the ability to just causally drive around in silence is more welcoming that he considered it would be. Originally, his partner Ito was supposed to have patrol but he offered to pick it up since he was getting the next few days off to visit with his former classmates, he really didn’t mind the last-minute change to his schedule. Especially since he was getting nervous thinking about the game tomorrow, it wasn’t that he was worried about his skill set, but there were going to be several pro players in attendance.

It was already 8:45PM which meant he only had 15 minutes before his shift ended and he could go home, which he figured would go by slowly since most people were already in for the night. The sudden blur of speeding headlights catch his eyes and he let out a defeated sigh, of course it was too much to ask for a quiet night.

16:14:32

*          *          *          * Y/N

Shit!

You curse yourself, you had told Yachi that you’d take the train to Miyagi, she left the day before to meet up with Hinata, but you ended up staying later at work than intended. So here you are, five hours into your drive, half asleep and irritated, you should’ve just told her no.

You hear your phone going off, no doubt it’s Yachi asking where you are, you look down briefly to grab it, not paying attention to the change in speed limits as you continue down the road. It’s not until you hear police sirens that your attention is pulled away from everything else and you just want to scream.

Luckily due to the almost empty streets, you are able to pull over with ease, the patrol car pulling in behind you shortly after. You close your eyes, hitting your forehead to the steering wheel repeatedly before you hear a car door close and brace yourself.

*          *          *          * Daichi

He taps on the driver’s side window twice with his knuckle, waiting for it to be rolled down. A speeding ticket wouldn’t take long to write up, so his plans to be home by 9:30PM was still looking good which he was thankful for.

As the window rolls down, he catches his soul mark in the reflection and he scrunches up his face, getting an odd look from the driver of the vehicle.

00:00:02

*          *          *          * Y/N

“This is awkward, but—” You stop, noticing where his line of sight is and you finally look down at your wrist.

00:00:00

He smirks, “I never thought I’d meet my soulmate right before issuing them a speeding ticket.”

You aren’t completely sure why, but you end up laughing to the point you end up coughing. You couldn’t believe it, your whole life wondering at what moment you’d meet your soulmate, thinking of all the different situations that could possibly set up running into them, for it to end up like this. Talk about anticlimactic.

“Speaking of soulmates, think you could let me off with a warning?” You bat your lashes at him, really hoping that the soulmate card will work.

He clicks his tongue, smile on his face, “no can do.”

You drop your jaw in disbelief, “I guess this will be one hell of a meet-cute story, huh?”

*          *          *          * “You are so lame, Daichi.” Sugawara laughs, Nishinoya joining in on joking with their former captain.

Daichi glances over to the other side of the gym where you are, laughing with Yachi and Kiyoko and he can’t help but be smitten. He had tried for the longest time to not imagine his soulmate, not wanting to put that imaginary burden of being what he had wanted on the one he ended up with, but with you, you just smashed through any expectations he had and it had only been half a day.

You look over and see Daichi looking at you before you quickly turn your head away, getting a laugh from the former team managers. You were thrilled to have your soulmate, everything made sense, and it definitely helped that he was easy on the eyes.

“I still can’t believe he gave you a ticket!” Yachi protests, shooting Daichi a scold.

“I can.” Kiyoko smiles, “and I don’t think Y/N minds.”

Kiyoko’s right, you don’t really mind at all, because that’s part of your story with your soulmate, with Daichi. The person who had you waiting at the edge of your seat since before you could even tell time, the person that the stars had willed to be yours.

The first time you had almost met, he was in Tokyo because the festival needed more officers to help monitor things, it was just by chance that he ran into his former classmates that you happened to be with. The time you actually met, he was covering a shift that he wasn’t even supposed to be working and you were running late which was something you didn’t tend to do.

He wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you into his side, placing a soft kiss on the side of your forehead. You let yourself melt into his side, finally understanding what was so special about soulmates, why so many people spent forever trying to find theirs.

“You know, I can talk to my boss, erase the ticket.” “No way! I’m gonna frame it!”

Daichi’s face deadpans, “what?” You nod, “oh yeah, you aren’t gonna live that one down.”

Daichi just shakes his head, letting out a deep breath, suddenly realizing you were gonna be as much trouble as Kageyama and Hinata were. But somehow, he feels himself looking forward to the adventure that was you.

[jjaeong]

And If I Still Have Feelings, Will You Accept It This Time? (Triple Threat Confessions).

Series:  KPOP Girl Group: 이달의 소녀 (LOONA).

Pairing: Kim Hyunjin & High School Student/Idol Female Reader.

Summary: Y/L/N Y/N was never the center of attention when she was a student, she was never really recognized by her peers because she blended in so well in the academy—until news broke out after their graduation that she was debuting as a soloist under a big company. With that, Y/N’s name grew into the entertainment scene, her songs topping the charts—even having enough credit to be called in to guest MC for a KCON event, which the idol did not even think twice about accepting. As rumors of Y/N being assigned to the Global Girl Group LOONA’s event, both artists’ fans were thrilled with the interaction. Well, you could say other than Y/N and LOONA’s second member Kim Hyunjin—who blatantly had confessed to having feelings for the soloist before they she had debuted.

“You’re looking again, Y/N-ah? Really? You do know about the dating rumors between her and Jeon Heejin.. Right?”

Your eyes stayed glued on the view outside the window, chin resting on the palm of your hand as you continued to watch the Track team jog down the field—particularly on the laughing brunette who won’t stop smiling to herself while she pushed a few of her teammates, teasing her for some reason you could only wonder about. The girl made a turn around the track so your view of her flushed features were blocked, giving you the opportunity to scan the field for the figure that usually lingers somewhere around the area. And there she was, impossible to miss—stunning visuals even from your view through the window of the fourth floor, Jeon Heejin, on her phone as she talked to her friends and a few followers flocking around her.

She didn’t seem to be paying attention to her best friend at all, almost as if she just decided to drop by and talk to the Track Athlete—who also doubled as the second member of the idol’s recently debuted girl group—before leaving and continuing about her day, coming back after classes to walk home with the girl.

“Seriously, if I was Kim Hyunjin I would be worried that you’re my Sasaeng or something..”

“Will you cut it out? She’s just watching—God, you act like Y/N is obsessed with her. Everyone’s acting like they’re obsessed with Kim Hyunjin and Jeon Heejin!”

They were right about one thing though, about everyone being obsessed over those two, you couldn’t entirely understand it but you had guessed that everyone suddenly wanted to be friends with the two because they were idols. But through your eyes, they were just like you—just two girls finishing their last year in High School, and excluding the fact that none of your schoolmates knew that you had already signed a contract that locked you into the idol life after you’ve graduated. But some of your closest friends knew, and the said close “friends” being ITZY’s Shin Ryujin—who was actually the one that told you about being friends with the two, and endlessly raved about them as you mentioned that you were schoolmates.

All of this happening while these girls around you, these "friends" of yours who knew nothing about how you’d cover it up to them that your late night expeditions were just cram school but in reality—it was actually practice. 

Though watching this was insane to you, the sudden spike in recognition—people they’ve never talked to acting like they’ve been friends forever, being pulled to the side for a picture, all the attention they’ve never had suddenly there because.. They became a figure. You could say that you were watching the two not because you were in awe, but rather—taking notes, what to do and what not to do, and you were learning a lot. And with the information you gathered, you’ve concluded that Kim Hyunjin and Jeon Heejin really are good people, but for now at least—you didn’t want to be associated with them. 

Just for the entire potential pre-debut drama that might come with it after you’ve debuted.

“They’re really pretty.” you commented, just to entice whatever reason it was for your classmates trying to converse with you for. They were never really your friends, and definitely are not after the continuous spiteful remarks they’d pitch in whenever they’d hear about the two idols.

It wasn’t that you hated these girls, but you just can’t be friends with people that are overpowered by envy.

“Of course they are, they’re idols, Y/N. Ugh, whatever—I’m going back to my seat.” you didn’t even bother to check if they actually had left, but you just kept your eyes locked on Kim Hyunjin who was now sitting on the field. You continued to observe until your teacher entered the room, which made you tear your eyes away from the scene to stand up to greet her along with your classmates.

Completely missing Kim Hyunjin’s piercing gaze directed on your figure through the window from the field.

“Come on! Aren’t you the least bit excited? You’re debuting in three days!” 

You had stayed in school for a bit longer after being called into the faculty, your adviser reminding you about the award that would be given to you in the ceremony for your debut date—asking you if you were still going to go for it, and congratulating you along the way. And just as you were slipping your shoes on, Ryujin called to suddenly bombard you with congratulatory messages—all while you can hear the speakers behind her blasting ITZY’s songs which had meant that the girl was currently practicing, but decided to call you through her break.

As if you weren’t going to get Tteokbokki later once she’s finished, something about it being an advanced celebration for both of you graduating and your own debut day—because you would both be too busy on the said date.

“I’m too hungry to think about that right now, you know how I’ve been on diet since last week's photoshoot—this is the only time my manager said it’s okay to eat whatever I want..”

“He’s scared of me, as he should be. I’ll beat him up if you pass out in the practice room again..”

“Seriously, Ryujin you are—”

“Kim Hyunjin!” you stopped just before the entrance of the building, tentative steps pulling you closer to the side of the building. The back of an unfamiliar schoolmate of yours was the first image that had greeted you as you peeked—making you clamp a hand on your mouth, stepping away from their view once you saw the dark look casted on the face of the track-suit wearing idol who looked down at the girl with the yellow letter in hand.

“Please accept my feelings, Kim Hyunjin!”

Your heart hammered heavily in your chest, quickly tapping the red button on the screen of your phone—something that you can only apologize to Ryujin for later, but that isn’t important right now. As of the moment, you knew you weren’t supposed to be lingering—you should be willing yourself further to leave the area because this was something private, it was a situation that can only be resolved by the two people involved, but all you could think of was that..

You wouldn’t know how to deal with this either, this was a girl and—it wasn’t entirely wrong for idols to have same sex relationships because even the opposite would be considered a scandal. If Kim Hyunjin were to accept this.. If she were to even consider this.. Right now just when she had just debuted..

“Why?” Hyunjin’s cold voice pierced through the silence, the tone even making your own heart drop but your mind quickly raced to find an explanation you would use if you were in the idol’s place.

“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound so harsh—I just can’t be in a relationship right now, I’ve just started my career..”

“I—well, you’re cool! And you’re pretty! You like the things I like—”

“I’m really sorry, maybe we could at least be friends?”

“No! There’s more! There’s..” the girl pulled her phone out to show Hyunjin something, making the idol lean a bit closer to stare at whatever it was and from the way her lips pulled into a frown—it was something that had made her even more upset, somehow, “I went to your first fan signing event, and look—even the 1/3 one too! Look, if you would just give me a chance—”

“And that’s enough for you to say you love me?” your fingers clenched around your phone at the dry laugh Hyunjin let out, your patience wearing thin as the idol continued to push the poor girl. The girl stammered for a moment, making you slightly peek to find a look of disbelief on Hyunjin’s face—not at all seeming to be mocking the girl but actual concern, as if she wanted to actually get into the root of why she had confessed in the first place.

For a moment, once you heard her dry laugh—you thought that the girl had really lost it, with her idol mask dropped. But how she had carefully stared at the girl, how her fingers seemed to dig themselves into the hem of her jacket.. She was worried.

“You only love me.. Because I’m an idol?”

“Stop—I didn’t say that! You’re putting words into my mouth—why are you being such a bitch!?” Hyunjin visibly flinched at the sharp tone of the girl who fumed at her statement, making you also tense up in your spot.

This.. This isn’t supposed to be how it’s supposed to go. The unknown girl was just supposed to walk away crying, something along those lines but not hate on the girl—she says she loves her but.. This isn’t..

“Your name is Yoon Jiyeon, right?” the idol asked, inhaling deeply as the toxic girl stayed silent—giving Hyunjin enough time to straighten herself and give her a polite smile, “Jiyeon-ah, thank you for being my fan. But I think you should consider how you treat people first, be kinder to them—because if you end up actually liking someone, and this is exactly how you treat them.. Jiyeon-ah, you’ll end up alone.” you could feel the blood draining from your face at Hyunjin’s unfiltered words, knowing that it was enough to put the final nail in her career’s coffin if it ever got out. 

And with the sharp sound of the girl’s hand connecting with Hyunjin’s cheek, your phone dropped in your hand and the sound made Hyunjin’s vacant eyes snap to yours, which quickly widened as she realized that it was you.

“I got that all on voice record—I knew this would happen, say goodbye to your career Kim Hyunjin!” the girl sneered at Hyunjin before turning to leave, which made her face you—the annoyed look on her face flashing into shock for a moment, until it snapped back to annoyance once more.

“What are you looking at, loser? Get lost!” she hissed as she walked closer to you, aiming to walk past you as your eyes stayed locked on the phone she shakily held in her hand.

What were you thinking?

“Yah! Give it back!”

You should’ve just minded your own business.

“No—How dare you humiliate me! You bitch!”

You just wanted to watch, like the usual.

“Run!” you felt a hand grab yours, dragging you away from the girl and the crushed phone by the side of the wall as your feet did it’s best to keep up with the speed of the girl that pulled you past the school gate—with the girl that you both had just left screaming as she practically pulled her hair out. The burning in your thighs didn’t cease, your head turning to face the image of the girl you had always watched from the fourth floor window—smooth dark brown strands of hair lightening just as the sun setting in front of you two caressed them, the cold evening slowly creeping in but that didn’t matter at the moment.

You just ran, wherever the girl was leading you through the side-walk with her laughter in the background—you just followed.

“..I can’t believe that just happened!”

She’s even more prettier up close.

“I really thought I was done for—you’re crazy, Y/N!”

Her voice.. How is it so soothing?

“I need to get a new phone..”

“Ah—give me a second,” you looked back at Kim Hyunjin who was now sitting next to you on the bench outside of the ice cream store, both of you holding onto a popsicle that was her treat as she fished something out of her pocket, reaching over to grab your free hand and place your phone which now had a cracked screen on it. You frowned at the sight which made Hyunjin laugh, leaning back on her seat as she looked across the street and to the view of the sun setting over the river—her eyes moving back to your figure as you sighed in relief when the device seemed to still be working, opening a series of spammed messages which you quickly replied to.

Hyunjin wondered who the contact name Ryujin was.

“I’ll get you a new phone on my next paycheck.” your alarmed eyes quickly snapped to Hyunjin’s unbothered ones, making you shake your head as the sides of her lips almost pulled into an amused smile—but she had stopped herself.

“That’s not necessary—I was actually on my way out when I decided to snoop around, It’d make me feel bad if you’d think this is your fault..”

“So? Feel bad then.” you gaped at the bluntness that came from the idol, not expecting that she wasn’t all cookie cutter—even with how she handled the girl from earlier, she didn’t have to act like this with everyone.. Or can she?

“Y/N-ah, you’re from class 1B right?” Hyunjin asked nonchalantly, as if you didn’t really have to reply because she knew everything already. Though it almost felt that way, you can never be too sure so you just nodded—looking at the scene in front of the both of you. 

She didn’t really need more people staring at her at this point.

“This might sound stupid, since Heejin and I’s name’s are practically always mentioned during every assembly but—I’m Kim Hyunjin. Nice to finally meet you.”

Finally?

“How did you know my name? Hyunjin?” Hyunjin didn’t reply for a moment, so you turned to check up on her—apparently, she was just caught up staring at you before she blinked, forming an ‘o’ shape with her mouth. Furrowing her brows and looking as if she was trying to remember where exactly she had heard your name from, and when she had finally recalled it—she smiled at you.

“I was checking out clubs when we first transferred, you were the only one in the music room and a member approached me before I could talk to you. There weren’t any meetings that day apparently, they told me your name.” you knitted your brows in confusion, not being able to recall a memory of her—other than when you started watching them from your window of course—but this was oddly surprising, that she had known you way before you knew her apparently.

“Did they tell you, or did you ask?” you bit a piece off of your popsicle, not really seeing the question as a serious one—just a simple way of getting to talk with her more, but since Hyunjin didn’t respond you decided to apologize and tell her it was a stupid question to ask. But before you could even speak, Hyunjin laughed—more to herself than at your question, making you look at the grin plastered on the girl’s face.

“This can’t be real..”

“What can’t be real?” Hyunjin looked at you, something meaning to be said deep behind her eyes which made her laugh again and rise from the seat, glancing down at her melting yellow popsicle as she stood in front you—the sunlight casting an orange glow at the gentle eyes that had directed themselves at your curious ones.

“What?” you pressed further, making Hyunjin lean over to get in eye level with you as you did your best not to slightly move back because the position somehow made you a bit uneasy.

“I asked,” Hyunjin answered, making you release a barely audible hum in reply—counting down the seconds until she could finally give you some space to think, but as Hyunjin’s grin got bigger when you avoided her gaze she decided to give you what you want. Leaning back to her height and staring at the road behind her, “because I thought you were pretty.” she shrugged, making you almost drop your popsicle in your hand.

“But then I started to look for you everywhere, you know—not just in school, but mostly in school. You’re really hard to look for, do you know that, Y/N?” you gripped the wooden stick in your hands as you tried to think of what to reply but Hyunjin got back down to your level, hands resting on her knees as she eyed your popsicle stick and her own before trying to get you to look at her.

“You’re always in your classroom, in lunch you barely stay in the cafeteria with your friends—I see you in the library, in the courtyard, but after a few minutes you’re moving to another place. Y/N, the year is already over and you’re still all over the place, around this time you should already be home—”

“I was in the faculty, my adviser said she needed to talk to me.” you mumbled, which made her raise her brow and sigh as she looked at you—who continued to refuse to meet her eyes. How was it that the girl you've been watching from afar since her debut—was actually watching you at the same time? Even before you had been watching?

“..right, but you do know what this means right?” you turned to look at the expectant gaze of the idol, an inquisitive look on her features as you stared back with an contemplative expression.

“You’re confessing to me?”

“Yup, I know it sounds weird but—I just feel it, and I don’t even know you that well so.. There has to be a reason, right? I was planning to confess in graduation too!” you sighed, looking away from the girl as she stood back up on the soles of her feet to finish up the remains of her half-melted popsicle as she waited for your reply.

“Is it.. Because I’m cool? I’m pretty? Because I like the things you like..?”

“Hey! That’s not fair—” Hyunjin’s heart fluttered at the sight of your lips pulled up into a grin, followed by a laugh at the recollection of what had just happened and how that was practically the most odd thing that had ever happened to you—other than being scouted to be a soloist for one of the biggest idol companies in the entertainment industry.

Which reminded you..

“I’m sorry,” the idol tensed in her spot, the light feeling in her chest slowly disappearing as your smile turned into a somber one, “You don’t deserve to have your career hurt for liking a person of the same sex as you are.” you stood up from your seat, eyeing the darkened sky before meeting the look of disbelief on Hyunjin’s face.

“Is it because you’re.. Straight?”

“What? No—it’s because you’re an idol—”

“So? You’re not, is it because I’m—"

“Hyunjin, please listen,” you had placed a hand on her shoulder which made the girl’s wry smile quickly wiped from her face at the sight of the look of frustration on your features, inhaling deeply before shaking her slightly, “it’s not that I don’t feel anything for you—but this is not the right time to be thinking about yourself. There are literal lives on the line if you let yourself have this—it’s not just you, not just your members.. But your team, your employees, your fans that only wish the best for you until you reach the top.”

“I have feelings for you, Y/N. Can’t you see that—”

“I can see that you do, Hyunjin. But,” you stared at your hand on her shoulder, trying to find the right words to say as she continued to stare at you in anticipation—no matter how much it had pained her, she had seemed to need to hear it from you unless she wanted to carry it with her until her last breath. Taking your hand off her shoulder and staring at her with a determined look on your face, meeting the clear dejection in her eyes, “not right now, this can’t be about us—because we’re almost there. We’re so close to reaching our dreams and.. We’d just both get in the way of that, you need to let this go.”

Hyunjin just stood there, staring at you as you reached for your bag on the ground—taking in a deep breath before meeting her eyes for the last time, thinking if you should say any more to the girl that stared at you with a blank expression on her face.

“You’ll achieve great things, Kim Hyunjin. I’ll see you around.” 

You stared down at the cue cards in your hand, biting the inside of your cheek before looking away from it to look through the windows and find your fans and LOONA’s fans excitedly waving at you—it was heartwarming to see, both of you and the group’s fans in such good terms under such bad weather conditions yet they still looked thrilled to be watching this unfold. The main MC stood next to you on the stage for an opening speech about the group as you plastered a small smile on your lips as she did so, completely clueless about the whirlwind of thoughts you were currently having at the memory that had played nonstop in your mind since your team had mentioned which group you were assigned to.

Ryujin’s cackles echoed through the memory as well, remembering how you had met her in the Tteokbokki place with distraught features—looking absolutely stunned as you sat there in front of her and told her what had just happened. And once it was publicly announced that you had gotten LOONA.. Maybe you shouldn’t have picked up that phone call from your best friend that had her laughing through most of your conversation, and she even called you earlier to wish you the best of luck—but to also laugh into the receiver as well.

Though you and Hyunjin had never spoken to each other since her confession, it didn’t stop you from giving her group your support. It wasn’t hard at all, they were great and you actually were into their concept accompanied by the lore—you even went out of your way on one of your lives to converse with your fans about their theories, and of course this had reached the members.

And with the members hearing about you, singing a few of your songs—Heejin mentioned that you did indeed come from the same school, that you were in the class directly in front of theirs. There were numerous questions directed at Hyunjin in that live as well but you were quick to leave the clip, not wanting to see if she had actually ended up hating you or whatnot. But as you went about your days, your fans hadn’t mentioned anything so you had guessed that the girl didn’t really speak much of you—which was great, that means that what happened that evening was just between the two of you and had involved no one else.

Though it did have you wondering if this was her purposely brushing the encounter off, if she had done this because she knew this would hurt both of your reputations—or she had really saw you in a different light, the opposite of how she had seen you back then. It didn’t matter now, really—idols have disputes, it happens, but in truth it would sting if it’s between you and Hyunjin. You were only looking out for the girl, you were more concerned about how she had seen her career than you had wanted to keep yours clean—you saw the surprised look on her face once you were crowded by paparazzi in the ceremony, she should’ve known your intentions were clear by then.

But if she ended up hating you for it, there wasn’t really anything you can do.

“Im Yeojin!” the MC announced as the nine other members stood on the sides, the Maknae waving in a formal manner to everyone and even going out of her way to walk over to you and shake your hand—which had you laughing in no time, shaking your head as the girl threw a heart sign at the camera before it was your turn to announce the next member.

Of course, it had to be you.

“Kim Hyunjin.” you couldn’t meet her eyes so you settled on looking down at the cue cards, hoping that both of your fans hadn’t caught up on your aversion by going through the words written in them just before the woman next to you announced Heejin’s name. You looked up from the cards in your hand, expecting to find Heejin already in place—only to directly look into Hyunjin’s eyes, making the both of you quickly look away from one another, with Hyunjin almost tripping on her own feet as she scrambled to stand next to a concerned Yeojin.

“Unnie, are you okay? You look pale.”

“Be quiet.” Hyunjin shushed the member, the mic catching the nervousness in her tone that echoed through the feedback of everyone’s earpieces—making her members glance at the girl just as they did their usual greeting before looking at the main MC who continued introducing the girls as you smiled at the camera.

“So how are you feeling right now Y/N? With this being the first time you’re guest hosting?”

“I’m a bit nervous, actually—it’s the cue cards that I’m afraid to mess up, I’ve always been a fan of LOONA so..” Chuu squealed from her spot while Yves grabbed onto Olivia Hye’s arm to start dramatically singing your most recent song, the intimidating girl making you flustered when she returned the girl’s energy. The members ended up trying to one-up one another for your attention—except for a silent Kim Hyunjin who had a small smile on her lips as she just nodded—so the main MC quickly asked them to take their seats before it got too much about you than the group. The event had passed faster than you’d expect it to, even though you and Hyunjin barely had any interaction—her members were too soft to ignore, they made your first hosting experience go smoother than you could have ever imagined it.

But if you thought you could easily slip out of the girls’ hold that fast, you should think again—because just before they were supposed to make their way to the dressing room to get ready for their performance, they were quick to engage a conversation with you which almost felt as if it would never end until their staff called for them. So you took this as your cue to leave, bowing before turning to head to the stage when you felt fingers wrap around your wrist—making you turn in your heels as you were dragged into a less crowded area in the set.

“What—”

“I still have feelings for you.” you choked when you met Hyunjin’s glare, your eyes locked on the idol who looked almost as if she sprinted from the dressing room the second she was done getting changed—because she had donned her stage outfit, contrasting her members that just lingered to talk with you.

“This isn’t the right time to be talking about this—”

“You told me to forget about it, right? But how can I do that if I see you everywhere, hear you everywhere—do you hate me this much? Y/L/N Y/N!?” Hyunjin’s grip tightened around your wrist but you didn’t wince, the image of the girl’s eyes slowly brimming with tears made you glance at the staff who passed by yet didn’t seem to see you two at all—so you made a move to shift the distraught girl even further out of view so you stood in a way that blocked her from being seen by anyone. Placing your hand on her own that were on your wrist to give her a calculated look.

“Don’t cry here.”

“It's still about them? After all these years you still don't think about yourself? Y/N—"

"I was watching you, before—the same way you did with me," you carefully told her, watching her angered expression slowly turn into a look of confusion as you felt her fingers loosen around your wrist. A small smile on your lips as you scanned her features, "after that evening, I found myself doing the same thing you did—with looking for you everywhere."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Hyunjin grumbled, sniffling as you melted at the sight, even though it was a painful scene to watch. Reaching over to tilt her head up so her tears don't smear her makeup, she looked even more confused but still let you place your fingers on her chin.

"I guess you can say that your confession made me realize that I wasn't only watching you because I wanted to prepare myself for when I become an idol," you swallowed sharply, trying your best not to lose your train of thought at the sight of Hyunjin continuing to stare at you, "I think it's just funny how the first thing that came to my mind after I debuted was that I needed to talk with you. You know, after I told you to forget about it."

"Is this.. You confessing that you like me?" Hyunjin took your hand off her chin, holding it firmly as she squinted her eyes at you as if trying to see if you were kidding or not.

"Why? Does it sound like a setup? I'm trying to tell you I like you back, it took some time to think—"

"But you still won't date me?" you opened your mouth to reply as Hyunjin raised her brow, swiftly grabbing ahold of your neck to pull you closer to her and making you yelp, almost actually falling into her hold—but Hyunjin was strong enough to hold you both in place, the closeness of your faces making your mind flash back to that evening but also fully recognize how mature her face has gotten.

"But you still can't kiss me?"

"H-hey, I told you—I've just come into terms with liking you, you're pushing your luck, Kim Hyunjin—"

"You're the one pushing your luck, I've liked you for years and you think I'd just let you get away with acting like this?"

"Yah! Kim Hyunjin! Where did that girl run off to.." you had reflexively pushed Hyunjin off of you, making her stumble back as you turned to face a clueless Haseul who had her brows knitted—but as soon as she saw you her eyes lit up and a warm smile eased your flustered state.

"Y/N! Have you seen Hyunjin anywhere? She left the dressing room earlier looking a bit under the weather, but Vivi and Gowon are almost done.. If you see her can you—"

"I'm here, I'll catch up later." you felt your heart stop once Haseul's eyes moved from you to her member, to then move back to you—making her smile turn into a smirk before she nodded.

"Right.. Later." Haseul snorted before waving at you and meeting Heejin down the hallway who was complaining about Yeojin bothering her—the sight looking almost like a sibling fight.

"So.. Where were we?"

"Goodbye, Kim Hyunjin."

"What? No! You can't do this to me—I want my payback! Y/N!"

Long time no see, long time no see~

A week passed by too quickly, I thought I posted a few days ago—turns out it’s been a week and three days? But I’ve been very busy this week so it was honestly weird how I went in and out of the writing mood when I had so much on my plate, I wanted to write to relieve some stress but I guess it just frustrated me even more—it’s funny lmao.

New template! Do you guys like the inverted borders or.. Through my screen it looks better than the first one—maybe more cleaner? And I like it better because of that? Oddly enough when I changed it to the new one it reminded me of this version of Lightning Mcqueen.

 (Did I ruin the OS for you guys? Yes? Ok, sorry then—Lighting’s staying though lmao.)

Also, new template because I got into photoshop, and now there is no way you’ll ever see the gifs in non-high definition form no longer—I’ve also learnt how to color change objects in videos for my gifs, (and when I tell you guys that I’ve thought of another Jinsoul OS that I thought would be a cool concept.. I keep Jinsoul-baiting I’m so sorry, she just has the greatest ideas from me, she’s not even my bias but her power.) and I’ve also learned how to change the header colors in the actual color hex of the members. All that while I’m balancing my irl life in a span of a week! Still can’t believe that even on my free time—I’m still pushing myself to be productive.

Also! By the way—we’ve reached 100 you guys! And with that—a blog that I’ve binge read obsessively before I made this blog is part of you guys. I’m too shy to tag so if you’re reading this.. 

IreallyloveyourworkandIhopeyouwritemoreaboutloonabecauseIlovethemsomuchandIwentanononyourblogtorequestonceanditwasablackpinkonesoI’msureitgotthroughbecauseitwaswaybackwhenyouhadroséinblackpinkhouseasyourpfpthankyouforyourserviceIcan’tbelieveyouactuallyfollowedthisblog.

How about you guys, what have you been up to? Did the week pass by smoothly with you guys too? I really feel like something shifted in this week for some reason, but maybe that’s just me you know? But damn, you guys really grow fast don’t you? I remember feeling so shy when we just had around 10 but—you guys..! :(

I want to keep writing more for this blog, I have so many ideas yet it’s as if only time will tell when I’ll write it exactly the way I want it to.. Because fics like this was done in one seating and—I want to put more thought into it so it would be clearer! More expressions! But for now.. We can settle for this, yeah? At least we know she’s still writing, that’s a place to always start.

Laters (hopefully for not more than a week again),

JJ.

>ovc: loonatheworld (170329)

https://youtu.be/o25-mCo2RkM

[emimothvine]

📂 I love your headcanons so much!!!

Thank <3 I hope you know that every time I see your username it makes me happy. 

TW: Mitsuki is a terrible fucking parent.

Every time Katsuki is forced to come back home for a visit, his mother decides to watch the news instead of her usual soap operas. Her favorite channel is one garnered towards young heroes and hero-hopefuls specifically, and she never fails to turn up the volume when they inevitably start talking shit about her son. He’s been one of their favorite topics ever since the sports festival, and Kamino only made it worse.

They call him unstable, volatile, and dangerous. They suggest that he went with the villains willingly and that he had a hand in All Might’s downfall. They spit poison and hate, claim to fear for the safety of those around him - and in the same breath they shove it under a guise of concern for his mental health. As if they didn’t just waste ten minutes verbally eviscerating his character.

Mitsuki likes to send him blog posts, too. And articles. She texts him links throughout the week, all written by either fake-worried parents or alleged “professionals.” It hurts him, having everything she says about him confirmed through writing. It feels like dozens of tiny needles slowly digging their way through his chest, into his heart.

He still reads all of it. Listens to everything they have to say. He doesn’t know why; he doesn’t want to see this - doesn’t even need to, really. He already knows he’s bad, knows what to expect with every familiar ping of his phone. But for some reason, there’s this thing in his gut, this pull urging him to look, look at that. It tells him to read and to re-read; to hear it all and see it all a hundred times over; to dissect every word.

When he’s home, it’s all she talks about outside of reprimands and strange, bipolar bullshit with his father. His father, who sits silently as she pokes and prods at everything that makes Katsuki bad and wrong; who tells him that she loves him. Wants what’s best for him. His father, who tells the prettiest lies.

(And her husband, too, whom she calls a pushover and a coward. Whom she scolds relentlessly for every mistake and every weakness, and then laughs at when he tries to change. Katsuki isn’t like Masaru. Katsuki won’t change a damn thing for her, no matter the hurt. He isn’t like Masaru, because cruelty is all she’s ever given him, and he refuses to fight for something that isn’t there.)

(No, he won’t seek her kindness or her affection. He doesn’t need something as superficial as his mother’s love to succeed.)

(And yet.)

(And yet he’ll never admit to the bitter ache he feels when he hears her tell Masaru she loves him.)

When Katsuki has the nerve to snap back, to match her loud volume, or (when he’s feeling particularly daring) to raise his voice first, she slaps him. But Katsuki doesn’t care - she smacks him all the time. What really gets under his skin is the question that follows, the “you gonna try to fuck me up like you did that gravity bitch at the festival?” Fuck, does it piss him off.

All of this, every word and hit and passive-aggressive taunt, her way of saying “See? The world agrees with me. You can’t be who you are and still be a hero.”

Katsuki refuses to believe the second part. But the first? Yeah. He’s a piece of shit. Makes sense that the world would hate him. He can’t say he likes himself much either.

...What Katsuki doesn’t realize is that Mitsuki’s sources are a load of bullshit.

That news channel? Filled with misogynists and homophobes and just about every brand of bigot out there. You’d be hard-pressed to find someone that actually takes them seriously - not in this day and age.

The blogs, the articles? She has to spend hours scrounging the internet to find people stupid enough to bash her son. And when she does, the comments are either filled with angry fans of his, or the comment section has been deleted entirely.

Katsuki doesn’t know that after the sports festival, UA went under fire from all directions. Furious parents, angry teenagers, various news outlets. The school was canceled on Twitter, and the hashtag was trending for a solid four weeks before the internet calmed the fuck down.

Then Kamino happened, and All Might fell. That one reporter that questioned Katsuki’s morality got demoted after a petition to have them fired received over a hundred thousand signatures. UA was canceled yet again, and it was even worse this time - because All Might’s fall is big news, and it was inevitable that its reach extended past Japanese borders. The whole world caught wind of All Might’s end, and with it the story of the boy who was stolen from right under the heroes’ noses. The infamous scene from the sports festival spilled across international borders, along with speculation that this was the reason villains targeted Katsuki in the first place.

And the fucking. Backlash. Good lord.

A couple thousand Katsuki stan accounts were created to go along with the dozens he had before, and anti-UA hashtags were trending in France and Russia for at least two days. UA ended up releasing a public apology for their actions at the sports festival and their negligence at the training camp (neither of which are seen by Katsuki, courtesy of his mother).

His classmates make jokes, sometimes, about all his “fans.” But Katsuki thinks they’re just that: jokes. He sees people staring at him on the street, and he assumes their looks come from a place of disgust. He knows that people are intimidated by him, but he doesn’t know that their trepidation goes hand-in-hand with their admiration - he’s powerful, to them, and he’s been through some shit. But he’s still standing tall and proud and unshakeable. He burns so brightly, and he has this air about him that makes you want him to like you, to be impressed by you - and that makes people nervous.

.

.

That was way longer than I intended, what the fuck.

tl;dr Katsuki thinks that the public hates him way more than they actually do, and thus does not realize that half of Japan’s population (plus a small percentage of the rest of the world) hardcore stans his oblivious ass.

(He finally starts to figure it out when some douchebag on the train starts heckling him, and he stays quiet because he’s learned by now that lashing out will make it worse.)

(He does not expect an enraged five-year-old girl to show up out of nowhere and kick that motherfucker in the shin.)

(He also does not expect for half the train car to back her up. Loudly.)

(All he can do is stare in blatant astonishment as a crowd of complete strangers rises to his defense; as some random teenagers approach his gaping visage and tell him to ignore that bastard, that he doesn’t know what he’s talking about, that his opinion means shit.)

(And Katsuki doesn’t know what this is - if it’s pity, if he should be angry - but it makes his chest burn and his eyes sting and for once, he thinks, it’s okay. Doing nothing and watching in heart-wrenching astonishment - it’s all okay.)

[everlarkficexchange]

Just Close Your Eyes, You'll Be Alright

Written by: @alliswell21

Prompt 154: Soulmate au where your soulmates injuries and scars show up on your body tinted in their favorite color. Katniss through the years as she discovers new marks, pondering what it could possibly be, finally figuring out that her soulmate is being hurt way too regularly and in very specific places. Do her parents figure out Peeta is being abused? How do they find and “rescue” him? Or does Peeta live his whole childhood being abused before turning 18? Does he runaway? How do he and Katniss find their way to one another? [submitted by @lovely-tothe-bone / @peetamewllark]

Teen and up

AU- Modern setting (but like without cell phones). One Shot. 

Warnings: Canon typical violence, Language, child abuse and neglect, injuries, implied (non-descriptive) underage smut. Nobody dies! Unbetaed. 

-lyrics of Safe and Sound by Taylor Swift, Feat. The Civil Wars - Songs from District 12 and Beyond (2012)

Author’s note: Thank you to @lovely-tothe-bone for her inspiring prompt and to the organizers of EFE, for bringing the challenge back so faithfully, you ladies rock! 

KPKPKPKP

“Look at her!” Papa screeched at the policeman, lifting the back of my favorite pink polka dotted shirt. “You have to do something about this, Sheriff Cray!” Papa demanded, angrily.

  The man just watched, like he didn’t care. Then sat back down lazily, “There’s nothing much I can do, to be honest. Unless you can produce the child sporting the actual bruises, my hands are tied.” Said the policeman.

  I had no idea what the problem was, I felt fine, but ever since my 5th birthday, every time Mama helped me out of my day clothes for my bath, she wept and held me close to her chest, whispering “No child deserves to be treated so poorly,”

  Papa too always made a face and looked sad and angry when Mama showed him my back after my baths. 

  It was funny how bath time could easily be my favorite time of day, but it made the grown ups upset somehow. I just liked that mama would rub ointments on my back, bottom and thighs, carefully and without fuzzing about the time she was spending away from my baby sister, Primrose. Is not that I didn’t like Prim— I thought she was as lovely as a doll— I didn’t mind sharing mama’s snuggles with her either, but it was nice to just feel mama’s warm hands caressing me to sleep every now and then. 

  Either way, I wished someone would tell me what was so wrong with my behind that had the grown ups acting so weird. 

  They were starting to scare me, really.

  “There has to be something we can do! There are genetic tests to determine matchless people, couldn’t we use the same technology to find the markers matching my daughter’s counterpart to identify him?” 

  “Mr. Everdeen, I’m not a geneticist. I wouldn’t know about anything like it… and who’s to say we could use it to find your girl’s soulmate? Then we what? It’ll open an unknown Pandora’s box situation, people would start tracking soulmates illegally or something less than honorable. It’ll certainly set a precedent we cannot foresee the ramifications of!”

  “You’re telling me that there’s some kid out there, somewhere, getting beaten week in and week out, and you’ll do nothing about it?! You’ll allow the abuse to continue uninterrupted?” 

  The man nodded slowly, “You said it yourself, Mr. Everdeen. The kid’s ‘out there, somewhere’, we don’t even know if he’s local, or his age. In any case, I only have jurisdiction over District 12, and I can’t very well launch a country wide investigation on an alleged case of abuse, specially if  we have no victim,”

  “But my daughter’s soulmate is suffering! Who knows what permanent damage this poor child may have as an adult! It’s my daughter’s future we’re talking about!”

  “Most unfortunate, sir. I don’t wanna seem unsympathetic, Mr. Everdeen, but unless your little girl can figure out a way to communicate with her soulmate, find… an address— at the very least a name— there isn’t anything we can do to help.”

  Papa huffed, his nose flared, “Fine. Thank you for your consideration…Sheriff.” Papa put his big ol’ hand on my shoulder and guided me away, “Come on Katniss, it’s time to go home.”

  I looked up at Papa and reached for his hand. I smiled at him, “It’s okay, Papa. Mama says to give grumpy people time, and they may be nicer the next time we talk to them.”

  Papa smiled at me, but it didn’t crinkled the corner of his eyes, like real smiles did, “That’s nice sweetie… although, that usually only applies to people just waking up from naps, like you and me,”

  I giggled when he picked me up and tickled my tummy. 

  Papa kept talking to grown ups about my back, but nothing was ever done about it. 

  ———————-

I was 11 when our world pitched upside down. 

  Papa was one the foramen on shift at the town’s coal mine when the earth shifted and an entire tunnel collapsed. 

  Prim and I were in school when the sirens went off. There’s nothing worse than to hear the end of your world being advertised so loudly and without mercy. 

  I grabbed my sister’s hand and rushed to the mines; we found our mother there, clinging to the yellow tape cordoning off the site. 

  I should’ve known something wasn’t right when I was the one seeking Mama out, trying to comfort her, instead of the other way around. It was the first time the concept of a soulmate stopped being an abstract notion, and became a reality, because my mother stopped functioning altogether the moment she realized Papa had been hurt.

  I saw how much a soulmate could affect you. It wasn’t only the marks on the skin— those came without conscious pain— it was the fear of knowing that someone you loved was hurting, sometimes badly, and not being able to do anything about it. 

  Mama’s left leg started glowing pink from the shin down at first, and the color began to shift to a darker red the longer Papa laid underground. 

  Unbeknownst to us, my father had been pinned under fallen rock and dirt after pushing a man to safety, risking his own life. The sharp end of a pickax perforated Papa’s leg in the cave-in. The pickaxe worked as a plug, keeping him from bleeding out while he waited for the rescue crew to reach him. 

  Papa laid on the floor of the very last lift to surface with rescued miners. He was unconscious. Had suffered extensive blood loss. The lone medic in the rescue crew couldn’t fix him up right away, but Mama was a nurse, and like a switch flipping on, she ripped off the bottom of her skirt, and tied a tourniquet around my father’s thigh, saving his life at the cost of his limb. 

  My father lived, but his leg had to be amputated. 

  He couldn’t work in the mines anymore, and what little money we got as compensation from his injuries, were put into paying off the mortgage, because Papa decided that having a roof over his family’s heads was far more important than having a leg. 

  The rub was, a roof didn’t fill our stomachs or put a coat around Prim’s shivering shoulders. Mama put a hold on her nursing career, obsessing over Papa’s care, despite his protests. Someone had to pick up the pieces, and that someone turned to be me. 

  I started selling everything I could carry out of the house in my arms: tools, kitchen appliances, small furniture, etc. But we never had many possessions to begin with, so my wares ran out soon, and I turned to our closets for their meager treasures.

  I sold my parents best clothes, along with my sister’s winter boots that didn’t fit her anymore. I looked at my own shoes with longing, but put them into Primrose’s shoe rack, deciding I could manage with Mama’s boots, if I stuffed them with newspaper. Mama never left the house anyway. Neither did Papa for that matter, but he wasn’t dead, just convalescencing, so I left him a pair of footwear just in case, and sold his work boots and his Sunday loafers. 

  The day I was down to the last pair of clothing, we had been slurping on mint tea for the third day in a row from a few old leaves I found in the very back of the pantry. It was the last of our food, besides Papa’s bland diet, but I refused to let on on how precariously stocked we were, until absolutely necessary.

  But, nobody wanted the hand-me-down baby clothes I had for sale, nor the slightly beaten stroller I was pushing around with my ‘merchandise’. 

  Icy cold rain, soaked me to the bone. I was so tired and downtrodden, I ran to the first awning I found, unwilling to go back home to Prim’s sunken blue eyes and chapped lips, asking for something to eat, while my hands were empty. 

  I tripped and fell face first on the umbrella stroller, breaking it irreparably and soiling the few onesies I’d been trying to sell. 

  With my wares ruined, and winded by a sharp pain shooting through my elbow, I limped towards a scraggly apple tree a few feet away. I recognized the place as the alley behind the town’s bakery, just by the smell alone. 

  I cupped my elbow, wondering if I’d broken it or merely banged it up? That’s when I saw the dumpster. 

  Big ugly thing, dirty and smelly. I climbed a wooden crate to dig for anything edible inside, but before I could lift the lid, a screeching voice shouted at me.

  “Get out of there, Seam brat!” 

  I jumped off the crate, startled, and cowed behind the dumpster when I saw the baker’s grumpy wife sneering at me from the warmth of her kitchen’s back door. 

  A boy about my age— I recognized him as one of my classmates from school— peeked his towheaded face around the woman, and although they were a good five yards away, I could see his blue eyes widened as he took me in. The boy slipped back inside, as his mother spewed threats of calling the police on me and whatnot.

  I started debating whether I wanted to trace back and drag my broken stroller over; pretend I was merely trying to dump it in the garbage, while inspecting the trash for food… but the baker’s wife was nicknamed the Witch by all the neighborhood children for a reason. 

  Before my mind was made, a loud, metallic bang resonated into the street from inside the bakery. Yelling ensued, then the sound of a meaty hand against a small face. 

  A few seconds later, the witch was chasing the boy out the back door, “Toss it in the trash, you stupid creature! Nobody will pay money for burnt bread anyway!” 

  The boy scurried by with his head down. 

  My eyes stuck on the bread in his hands, was probably the reason I missed the shiner under his eye. He stopped right in front of the dumpster, but instead of throwing the ruined loaves in, he tossed them in my direction. 

  I didn’t wait around to ask if he meant for me to grab them. I just scooped them up and fled like a bat out of heck. 

  When I got home, Mama gasped in horror. She grabbed me by the shoulders and pressed me to her chest. “Oh no! It’s getting worse. They don’t even care to hide the bruises anymore!” 

  Mama lathered my face with all the medicinal herbs she had at hand, while apologizing profusely for abandoning me and Prim to our own devices. She vowed to find a job, and to take better care of us. 

  “No child should ever suffer like this!” I couldn’t tell if she meant Prim and I, or whoever my soulmate was.

  Mama interrogated me about my whereabouts and how I came upon the bread in my arms, but she seemed to rest easier after a while. 

  When I was finally able to look at my face in the mirror, I was horror struck by the deep orange bruise swelling under my eye. It took three days for the bruise to go away completely even with mama’s careful fingers.

  Coincidentally, the baker’s son didn’t show up to school for the next four days. By the time he did, I had lost any confidence in myself to go up to him and thank him for the bread that fed us for a few days; the loaves were perfect! Only the crust had been charred, but I had a hunch the boy knew that when he threw the bread to me; I was also convinced he burned the bread on purpose, I was just too chicken to ask him why? Which made it even harder to hold his gaze when we crossed each other in the school hallways. 

  All I knew was that because of the selfless actions of the boy in my year at school, my mother seemed to wake from her single minded obsession. The boy with the bread gave our family a sense of hope, despite the fact that it would take some time for Mama to find work and produce enough money for the family. Papa’s medical needs had to be met as well, and he was due a new leg. 

  While those thoughts churned in my head, my eyes focused on a bright yellow bloom across the school yard. The first dandelion of the season! I picked the cheerful blossom, and the idea on how to feed my family until Mama was back on her feet, came to me. 

  After school, I took Prim’s hand and a clean bucket in the other; together we scoured the yard and the woods nearby for all the dandelions we could fit in the bucket. That night, we gorged ourselves on dandelion salad, and the next day, I pulled from under my parent’s bed, the only thing of value we had left in the house, Papa’s hunting bow. 

  “Are you sure you can handle it, pumpkin?” My father asked, watching me carefully.

  “You taught me how to do it,” I said, trying to hide my nerves.

  “I taught you with a smaller bow,” he pointed out, “why don’t use yours?”

  I shouldered the heavy bow, and took a few loose arrows in my hand, “I sold it. These are all we have left now,”

  After a handful of days practicing, I actually shot  something worth eating. Seeing my mother’s blue eyes pop in surprise when I dropped the dead rabbit on the table, was priceless. 

  ——————-

  One early morning, right before summer break, I happened across another hunter… a trapper, to be precise. 

  A lanky, scowling boy, with three fat bunnies tied to his belt, and a fourth hanging in the air by a simple— yet elegant— wire snare. 

  I’d seen his traps before, his prey with their dead eyes and lolling tongues, just high enough off the ground to keep other animals from taking off with them. Papa told me that hunter etiquette was to be observed; if I happened across a trap that wasn’t mine, I was not to touch it, out of respect for my fellow hunters. That still didn’t discourage me from looking! After all, the snares looked like works of art, and I had no idea how to set any on my own.

  “Stealing is a punishable offense, you know,” Snapped the boy, and suddenly I realized just how tall he was. 

  From up close, I could see the beginning of some stubble under his chin. 

  “I wasn’t gonna take it…” I stepped away from the twitching bunny, with my hands raised in surrender. “Admiring your work, that’s all. By the way, I’m Katniss Everdeen, what’s your name?” I asked, trying to be friendly. 

  “Name’s Gale. Hawthorne. So… you know how to use the thing hanging from your back, Catnip, or is that just for show?” He practically bumped me onto my butt, stepping passed me while pulling a knife from his belt to cut his kill down. He turned to watch me, smirking. “That thing looks bigger than you, are you sure you can lift it up?”

  I scowled at him, wondering if he was expecting to see me squirm or something. I was smaller than the average 12 year old, but I was fast and scrappy. 

  “My name is KatNISS. I can shoot my own food thank you very much,” I held my bow aloft and moved so he could see my quiver full of arrows, “my weapons aren’t props or fakes,” I said, haughtily.

  “Yeah, well, it still looks bigger than you,”

  I rolled my eyes, fed up. Any other time I’d meekly shy away, and let him be; but I was feeling stubborn and confrontational, so I pulled my bow, nocked an arrow and let it fly, all in a fluid motion. 

  Gale gaped with a hint of fear in his gray eyes. 

  I felt smug and satisfied. 

  I wasn’t aiming at anything in particular, I just wanted the obnoxious boy to shut it, but by a stroke of luck my arrow pierced a falling leaf, and imbedded itself deep into the knot of a gnarly looking tree trunk. 

  “Wow! That was amazing, Catnip!” Gale said in awe. 

  “It’s Katniss… I’m okay, my father was better,” I said, puffing my chest a little, “I haven’t managed stealth yet, not like Papa before the accident, anyway. He doesn’t hunt anymore.”

  Gale frowned. “Was your dad in the cave-in?” He asked grimly.

  I nodded. 

  “So was mine. He almost didn’t make it.”

  “Same.”

  He just stood there, staring at the ground for a moment, then I tried to play cool, “Hey, I’d be willing to spare some shooting lessons, in exchange for some snaring techniques,” 

  Gale watched me, intently. He finally nodded and stuck his hand out for me to shake, “Deal!” 

  I smiled. Papa always said that good hunting partners were hard to find, and while I didn’t want a new hunting partner— I already had my father!— I could always exchange knowledge with a fellow hunter and improve my game. 

——————-

Papa was fitted with a basic prosthetic leg. He couldn’t run or swim with it, but having the ability to walk without crutches gave him a “new lease in life”, as he called it. 

  He found work doing odd jobs for Haymitch Abernathy, a hermit drunk, with more money than he knew what to do with, and no family to spend it on. The man needed someone to talk to every now and then, and seeing as he and my father were close in age, they developed a strange rapport between them. 

  Still, Papa wasn’t completely confident with his fake leg, no matter how many physical therapies he attended; he still walked with a pronounced limp. Yet, he always had a word of comfort for Mama. 

  My mother often blamed herself for Papa’s disability. 

  He’d tell her that she did the right thing, that it was thanks to her torniquete he was still alive, and she should never doubt her own healing skills. But every now and then, my mother would catch a glance of her permanently grey skinned leg, and silent tears would slide down her exhausted, pretty face.

  By then, I was old enough to know that the soft orange marks hidden under my clothes, meant a kid somewhere in Panem, probably my age, was getting beaten on a regular basis. It was sad to think about, but I’d grown so used to the marks, they felt like a distant happening without a meaningful connection to me. The bruises were there… just shy of a shirt sleeve, or around mid thigh, where they could be concealed by shorts; the way I saw them, they were like oversized freckles that came and went. A nuisance. That’s why watching my mother weep over her shadowy leg, was always unnerving and a little odd. 

  Was I supposed to despair the same way she did over my own soulmate marks? Was I broken or heartless if I didn’t feel as strongly? 

  Until I saw my mother’s grief over her soulmate’s leg, it didn’t register to me just how much the orange bruises were supposed to affect me. 

  I started to think if I wasn’t any better than the person dispensing the punches.

  One day, I was leaning on my parents bedroom door, watching Mama applying soothing oils to her gray leg with the utmost love and care.

  “Why do you rub so much medicine on your leg? It doesn’t seem to be bringing back your normal color,” I asked, staring where her fingers massaged into her flesh. 

  Mama stopped and called me over, to stand on her side of the bed. 

  “Papa is fast asleep, do you see?” She pointed out, kindly.

  I looked past her shoulder, where my father was sprawled on the mattress on his stomach, dead to the world. 

  I nodded.

  Mama smiled, “Do you remember all we’ve told you about soulmates? I’m sure they’ve taught you at school other stuff as well,” 

  Again, I nodded, just a little puzzled. “Soulmates have a very strong bond. They can’t feel when the other hurts, but they can see the marks, tinted in their favorite colors. That’s how we identify our soulmates, because we match and they can see themselves reflected back.” 

  “Exactly.” Said my mother, beaming. “Now, your papa and I are soulmates, and we love each other very much. When Papa’s leg was separated from his body, my body reflected that loss, despite still retaining my own leg. We match. The one thing most people don’t seem to realize, is that the connection goes both ways. I may not feel the physical pain Papa does, but I can still do things to my leg to help him feel better.

  “For example, when he feels phantom itches, I scratch and his itching sensation goes away. When he can’t fall asleep because he’s uncomfortable without his leg, I massage lavender oil on mine, until he relaxes and goes to sleep. Everything I do to heal my body, and take care of it, helps my soulmate feel better.”

  “Is that why you put lotions on my marks? To help my soulmate feel better?” 

  Mama’s lips thinned out; she didn’t like talking about the orange marks on my body. 

  “Katniss,” she said very seriously, “I tend to your bruises because I love you. I worry about your soulmate, because I love you. I try to keep you as healthy and happy as possible, because that will help your soulmate heal faster… because I love you. I can cure your soulmate’s body through yours, but I cannot protect his heart, mind, or feelings. Right now, you both are too young to feel the pull of your bond, but one day, when your bodies have matured, you’ll have this… yearning, to find one another, and then, I just hope, whoever your soulmate is, knows we tried to help.”

  I cocked my head, “Should I be sad every time new marks show up?”

  Mama inhaled a deep breath, “We should feel sad every time a child is mistreated, darling, no matter how we’re related,”

  From that day on, I paid close attention to every child in my class for bruises matching mine. I also kept pomades and tinctures in my school bag, in case I ever saw another kid getting hurt. I wouldn’t say I started to develop deeper feelings for my soulmate after that, but I did feel deeper empathy for my classmates… I just couldn’t stomach big injuries, gore or vomit, but smaller cuts and bruises… those I could manage. 

————————

“Silver Anderson figured out her cousin was dating her soulmate!” A girl in my year was telling a cluster of other 15 year-old girls in the locker room. “Do you remember how Silver has been wearing a turtleneck for the last two days with this darned awful heat?”

  The other girls hummed their yeses. 

  “Well, is because Silver’s soulmate had a hickey on the throat, given by Silver’s cousin, who was his girlfriend or whatever. But apparently the cousin went over to visit Silver with her boyfriend, and one look at the guy’s neck, and Silver recognized the mark!” 

  There were gasps all around. 

  It wasn’t rare to hear of soulmates having relationships with other people before finding each other, but it was almost unheard of a relative dating somebody’s soulmate so close.

  I finished tying up my shoelaces, and started rebranding my hair, making a mental note to double shampoo, to get all the sweat out.

  “What an idiot! Who gets hickeys from their ‘whiles’?” Snorted somebody. 

  I wasn’t much for gossip, but even I had to agree. 

  ‘Whiles’, weren’t permanent romantic interests, they were just to pass the time while waiting to find your soulmate. ‘Whiles’ were people to satisfy ones curiosity about dating and that kind of stuff, with no strings attached or substance; ‘whiles’ had a bad connotation associated with. 

  “Oh, the boy had never gotten one mark in his body that wasn’t his, so, he assumed he didn’t have a soulmate, and the cousin has already been confirmed to be a matchless.”

  A big “Oh!” Swept the room. 

  Matchless were born without a soulmate, which meant they could choose to be with whoever they wanted as long as they were matchless as well, or with nobody at all. 

  Sometimes I envied their freedom to choose, but other times I felt a sense of safety, knowing there was a person somewhere in the world meant just for me and me to them. 

  Soulmates were genetically evolved to complement one another, but some just wanted to experiment before settling down. Lately, though, matchless births were growing in number, and that upset people for whatever reason, as if the freedom of choice was scary or a curse, then again matchless were usually whiles and those were looked down on. 

  “That’s awful!” Said a girl.

  “I knew Silver’s near freakish obsession with keeping her skin pristine and hidden would bring her issues finding her soulmate someday,” Declared another.

  “I don’t think she wanted to find him,” whispered someone else.

  “Oh well, they did find each other! You can’t hide from your destiny. That’s just silly!”

  “Either way, I feel bad for the cousin, because apparently she and Silver’s soulmate were talking about marriage, since they thought they were both matchless.” Informed the first one. 

  I lost interest in the conversation when it turned speculative, and stood up to shove my P.E. uniform into my locker. 

  Someone suddenly called, “Everdeen, how about those orange blooms on your arms?” 

  My eyes widened, and immediately, I dropped my arms, pulling my sleeves as far down as they would go to cover my soulmate’s private marks.

  “Oh… um… yeah. My mother thinks my soulmate might be an athlete,” I stuttered; Mama had only said such a thing in passing once, when a couple bruises appeared that didn’t match the usual ones. “Also, he seems to work with his hands. Lots of nicks and scrapes.” I wiggled my fingers in front of me. That much was true, my soulmate probably wore those marks freely.

  “Oooh!” A girl, Delly Cartwright, reached to take a closer look. “Could be a carpenter. Or a locksmith? Maybe a farmer!”

  “It could be the blacksmith’s son! Doesn’t Silver have an unmarried brother?” Asked another girl.

  “Yeah… a kid like 10! Ugh, Everdeen, I really hope he’s not your soulmate… can you imagine being so much older than your soulmate?!” Interjected the same girl that spotted my bruises. 

  I scowled. Age was a stupid thing to complain about. It wasn’t out of the ordinary to have an age gap between soulmates… my father was six years older than my mother, and Mrs. Sae from the Soup Corner at the market, was a handful of years older than her soulmate. 

  Still…

  “No. My soulmate is most likely my age. I’ve gotten his marks my whole life,” I shrugged, absently rubbing my arm, where the brand new bruise appeared that morning. 

  “Oh… at least that’s something. Knowing that your soulmate isn’t so much younger than you, and that he might at least have an apprenticeship somewhere,”

  “Right,” I said, turning away, wondering if it was awful of me to wish for a boy who never got marks on his body, like Silver’s pristine skin? At least that would mean my soulmate was safe and treated fairly. 

———————-

Papa and I shared many qualities. I inherited his coloring: olive skin, gray eyes, dark, straight hair, our penchant for singing mountain ballads, and the same quickening of the blood when we got a kill during hunting. Prim favored our mother more closely, with their fair skin, blonde wavy licks and blue eyes, they also were more skilled as healers and more soft-hearted towards animals. 

  The day Prim brought home a half dead cat, riddled with fleas and missing an ear to be patched up and adopted into our family, my first instinct was to drown the orange pelt and be done with it, but Prim got upset and worked up, and I just couldn’t stomach her cries over what I considered to be the world’s ugliest cat… his face was flat, like it’d been smashed against a wall…

  It took a long time to calm my sister down, and Papa made me pinky promise that I wouldn’t kill the fur sack and pretend it ran away, which I only did reluctantly, because I loved my sister and didn’t want her to be crossed with me. 

  Papa asked me to walk with him into the woods, afterwards, which I did readily. 

  Before he lost his leg, we used to go hunting all the time; everything I knew about hunting and foraging, I learned from him. But after losing his leg, we’ve only gone to the woods to hike and get him used to his prosthesis in the uneven terrain. 

  It was good exercise for him. The fresh air seemed to lift his spirits too. 

  We didn’t hunt together anymore. Papa’s tread wasn’t feather-like the way it used to be, prey scattered away before we even saw it.  

  It was alright. We enjoyed being out there together, and he still had lots to teach me about edible plants. Sometimes he’d find one of his old spiles, and then it would hit me: all his knowledge would’ve been lost if he’d died in that cave-in. I would’ve never known where to look for those spiles; I wouldn’t have the slightest idea how to harvest sap and turn it into syrup. 

  Sometimes, I had to sit down and catch my breath when those thoughts knocked the wind out of me. 

  I was having one such moment, when out of the blue, my father spoke in a low, calmed tone. 

  “There’s a new chief of police,” he said while sitting on a log, next to me. 

  “I heard.” I wasn’t trying to be snippy with him, but every time a new chief or sheriff was appointed to our district, Papa wanted to run back into the precinct, and demand they look for my soulmate. 

  Appealing to the police never led anywhere. It didn’t matter if they had new staff, they always gave us the same spiel: can’t investigate an abuse case without a victim. They couldn’t go looking for a person without a name or an address. 

  After a while, one just started feeling like it was an impossible task, to help one child feel safe. 

  Papa sighed. “We could try ourselves. I’ve been saving some money, and we could—“

  “What? We could what?” I snapped. “We could go door to door visiting every little town in Panem until we find the bruised up mutt matching me?” I was at the verge of tears. 

  Mama said that once my body was matured enough, I’d start feeling the pull. Well, I kinda felt it, calling desperately. It started around my 14th birthday, when I started having a regular cycle, and puberty was at its summit. 

  First, I was curious about my other half and began cataloguing all the soulmate marks I could see easily. Suddenly I had whole maps of my hands and arms, and legs. Mama suggested I keep track of my hidden marks too, just in case. The curiosity persisted and evolved into an incessant wondering: where was he? How was he getting along? How could I help him protect himself? 

  “Haymitch may have a way, sweetheart. He knows people, and he likes you… he says you’ve got spunk,” Papa smirked.

  I’d met Haymitch Abernathy countless times. He was rude and sarcastic. I usually responded to him in kind, earning myself a host of reprimands from my parents— although Papa still couldn’t hide his pride, despite trying his hardest. 

  “What would he know about soulmates anyway?” I muttered.

  Papa shook his head, standing up, “Haymitch lost his girl, mother and brother all at once during a special outing. There was a car crash. Haymitch was badly hurt, but survived. His family didn’t. His soulmate was 16, so was him. The government paid him excessively for damages and the loss of his soulmate, because it was proved the city had skimped on roadside safety that caused the accident. But money didn’t fill the void of losing his loved ones. Haymitch never recovered. 

  “He told me once that losing a soulmate is akin to drowning. Except you’re still breathing without filling your lungs with oxygen…” Papa picked up the bucket we brought to collect sap, and smiled sadly at me. “Katniss, I may be exaggerating by hounding the police about your soulmate, but sometimes I worry that if we don’t find that kid soon, you could very well share Haymitch’s fate. Believe me when I say that I’d do anything in this world, to keep that from happening to you.” 

  I turned 16 that spring.

  I started carrying a small mirror on me, to try and look over my shoulders into places I couldn’t reach, obsessing over every little mark that sprouted anew on my back. 

  I wasn’t sure if the all consuming watching, and the doubts that kept me up at night, not knowing what was being done to my soulmate, wondering if he’d survive another day, was the pull Mama talked about, or simply terror at becoming the next Haymitch Abernathy. Either way, I became more vigilant for injured teens around me, but a sinking feeling in my gut started nagging at me, that my soulmate was an expert at hiding in plain sight by now… how would I ever find him if he was as adept at camouflaging as I suspected?

—————————

“This spot is perfectly in the middle of the turkeys’ path.”

  I crossed my arms over my chest to glare at Gale, “You just spilled a bunch of blood there. No critter is gonna come this way anymore with that stink.”

  “Turkeys aren’t that smart, Catnip,” Gale looked up from his belt after securing his new catch— his pants were covered in gore from where the rabbit nearly cut its own foot off trying to fight the snare’s grip. “I’m more than confident that if we set traps here, we’ll catch at least a fat Tom…more if we set up a system wide enough,”

  After a somewhat rocky start, Gale and I learned to respect each other’s skills, even joining forces for certain seasons, like deer and turkey hunting. We also fished together on occasion. It was safe to say we had a friendship after three… almost four years of partnership in the woods. At 18 Gale was less obnoxious, but still a stubborn ass. 

  “And I’m telling you, the path is tainted now. We need to put feed on the other side of the bushes, to keep them in the area.”

  “That’ll take weeks!” 

  “Then you shouldn’t have let that bunny bleed to death in here!” 

  “Listen here, Catnip—” whatever he was about to say, died in his throat.

  “What?!” I demanded, angrily, when he just stared at me horror struck.

  “Your nose!” He roared. “Your eyes!” He tumbled forward, and squished my cheeks in his one, long-fingered hand. “There’s more coming!”

  I yanked myself away from him. “Cut it out!”

  “I think your soulmate is getting the shit beaten out of!”

  I grunted and brought my fingers to my face, as if I could feel the changes. 

  Gale had seen some of my bruises, enough to be sure I had a soulmate, but not enough to realize my soulmate was being abused.

  I rubbed under my nose, and the tip of my index came back bloody. 

  I gasped. That had never happened before. 

  “How bad is it?” I asked Gale, frantically. 

  “Um… orange keeps popping up all over your face. There’s some running up your arm right now.” He sounded careful, but frightened. “It’s like… burn marks,”

  I looked down, where indeed, long, fat tongues of intense orange glowed up my left arm. I’ve seen glowing marks before, but always in the tip of my fingers or the sides of my hands, I never connected the glowing with fire— burn marks— but it made sense. I guess my soulmate must handle fire regularly. 

  “What’s happening?” I pulled my little mirror from my pocket, to see my face, and nearly sobbed at the sight.

  One eye was completely covered in orange. Burn marks ran all the way from my elbow up to my cheek, and part of my forehead. My nose had a tiny, bloody smear, and my lip had streaks of orange here and there. 

  Whatever happened, was bad.

  “Fuck… Do you know where he is, by any chance?” Gale winced. 

  “No… but I’m about to find out!” I looked around for a place to sit, then pulled my small knife out of my boot. 

  Once seated, I examined my forearms. The flaming marks started at the elbow on my left arm, and went up on that side, my right arm was free of injury, except for my palms. Both were glowing orange, but not too bad. 

  “Okay… here goes nothing!” I gritted through my teeth, placing the tip of my knife to my arm, I traced the word, “WHERE?” crudely, and just deep enough to break the skin.

  Gale made a face, but crouched closed by, staring intently. “Do you think it’ll work?” He asked dubiously. “He might be unconscious for all we know,” 

  “We’ll see.”

  The minutes rolled by and no answer came. I was starting to panic; all I could think about was would that be the day I became the next Haymitch Abernathy? At least he got to meet his soulmate and have a relationship with her before she died; I had no idea who mine was. Was it worse that way, knowing them and then losing them, or was it worst to never meet them at all? Would I become soulless? Would my entire body turn gray? Would I ever find another soulmate? Haymitch never said if he ever looked for another, but I knew it was possible to get a secondary soulmate if enough time went by. 

  “Look!” Gale shouted. 

  A shaky “D12” appeared under my message. 

  A relieved gasp left my mouth. 

  “District 12! That’s good! He could’ve been all the way in District 4, and then what were you gonna do? Call the authorities there?” Gale muttered, clearly invested in what was happening to me.

  Tears stung my eyes. I wrote: “ME 2” 

  We’ve been in the same district the whole time, and I still had no idea where to find him! 

  I turned the knife back to the first word, and traced a line under it “WHERE?”

  The answer came back faster. “S H”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” I moaned,  “What kind of abbreviation is that? Ugh! I’m trying to help you!” I screamed at my arm as if my soulmate could hear it.

  “Seam House?” Gale mused… “No, there are hundreds, if not thousands of houses in the Seam,” he said.

  The Seam was the poorer part of the district, where people like us lived: low income families, miners, laborers and the such. 

  “Ah! Ask if he means Slag Heap? If I was trying to pick a fight with someone, that’s where I’d go.”

  “He didn’t pick a fight!” I snapped, defensive and angry. “He’s been beaten every other day, since I can remember. My parents used to go to the police station every year to see if they could do something about it. Nobody ever did! They always said we needed to figure out a way to communicate with him… well, I’m doing it now!”

  Gale frowned, “That’s shitty. I’m sorry to hear that. The Slag Heap could still be it, though. Many people go there to be alone… if they’re running from someone, there’s plenty hiding spots,”

  That sounded logical, “Okay… but the slag heap isn’t exactly small, and there’s some woodsy area to consider too,”

  “Mmm… asking has been working so far,” 

  “Yeah, but the whole mutilation part is getting to me…” I glared, he wasn’t the one cutting his arm, “I’m starting to get woozy,” 

  “You’re a hunter, Catnip! Blood is nothing,”

  “Animals, Gale! Not my own blood,”

  “There’s no difference,” Gale cupped my face in his hands, to keep my eyes on his gray, steely ones. “we’re all animals. We all bleed the same. Your soulmate needs your help, if I knew who mine was, and I knew she was in trouble, I’d be rushing to them… you can do this, Catnip,”

  I took a deep, cleansing breath, and nodded. “I’ll ask him. As soon as we know where to go… could you please fetch my father? He’ll know what to do,” 

  “You got it, Catnip!” He let go of me, and I felt renewed courage after his weird pep talk.

  Once again, I trace the tip of my knife on my skin, “SLAG H? WHERE?”

  “YES    NE”

  “North East! I told you it’ll work!” 

  “Yeah,” I grumbled, spelling making one last message: “W8 4 ME”

  “K”

  With half a plan in motion, Gale rushed to find my father, and I made a mad dash to the slag heap, where years and years of dumping dirt and rocks removed from the mines had formed small hills and mounds at the edge of the district. 

  “Hello!” I called out loudly. “Can anybody hear me?!” 

  There wasn’t a whole lot of vegetation in the slag heap, only hundreds of disturbed soil pits and little mountains… some were tall and wide enough they’ll easily conceal a person or two looking for privacy. 

  “Anybody here?” I called again.

  A weak cough answered in the distance. 

  I rushed in it’s direction, hoping it was my soulmate, and not a couple trying to steal away a few minutes alone. 

  “Please, tell me where you are!” I called before another round of coughing reached me. 

  “Here to finish me off, sweetheart?” Came a weak, raspy voice from behind me.

  I turned around but saw nothing besides dirt, and sticks, and moss on rocks. 

  I swallowed, “Where are you?” I stepped closer to the heap in front of me, and then…

  “Well, don’t step on me!” 

  I jumped back and looked downwards, and finally saw dirty pieces of flannel and denim, incongruous with the area, and under all the debris, I realized a person had dug a little wedge at the foot of the hill, and thrown the stuff he’d dug out back on top of himself. The disguise was clever, camouflaging himself into the terrain. 

  I gasped and dropped to the ground, pulling handfuls of earth out of the way. A jolt of recognition hit me when a pair of bright blue eyes blinked open and shut, slowly, as if fighting off fatigue. 

  “Don’t go to sleep!” I warned.

  “I’m sorry, but it might be too late for that already. There’s an angel hovering above me, and I’m not sure I’m not dreaming it,” a row of white teeth appeared from the soil.

  My knee-jerk reaction was to chuff and roll my eyes, but if he was throwing me those cheesy lines, it meant he was somewhat lucid, and it was imperative to keep him that way. 

  “How do you know is not a nightmare?” I countered.

  “Because Katniss Everdeen coming to my rescue, and being my soulmate could never be a bad dream. On the contrary It’s only my deepest, most desperate hope, really…” he trailed off, and closed his eyes again. 

  I was momentarily frightened.

  “Keep talking,” I ordered, brushing dirt off his head. Some of it mixed in with his blood and sweat, turning into a thick mud. I could see more of his battered face; my heart beat erratically against my rib cage, there were so many bruises. “Peeta, keep talking,” 

  His untouched eye opened slowly, a lazy, sideways smile greeted me, warming me up. “You know my name?” 

  I chuckled, startled, “You know mine,”

  “Everyone knows you, Katniss ‘the huntress’ Everdeen!” He reached up, tentatively, and touched the tip of my braid, whispering under his breath, something that sounded like: unreal.

  Just saying his name felt otherworldly; like breathing for the first time. I’ve never uttered it before, for fear of bringing forward memories of that awful day in the rain, by the bakery’s scraggly apple tree. 

  “And you’re Peeta Mellark, the boy with the bread. I’ve known your name for a long time, baker’s youngest son, whose kindness saved my entire family from starvation,” I cupped his injured face in my hands, and I couldn’t help the slight tremble in my voice. 

  He seemed to melt at the sound of my voice; then his hands came to touch my face. “I can’t believe it’s you. I can’t believe you found me!” He said, an edge of incredulity and awe colored his tone, but then his face fell, “But, your sweet, beautiful face… it’s all…” a fat tear rolled down his muddy cheek, while his thumb gently caressed my temple and the side of my face. “I’m so sorry, Katniss… I never wanted you to look like this! I always tried to shift positions, so you’d never had to see how bad it got. I’m so sorry,” he was crying so hard, he started to shake and cough.

  It took inhuman strength not to cry myself; I knew he needed me to protect him, and there would be time later to fall apart and feel emotional. 

  “Shush, I’m here now.” I knelt next to him and locked my arms around his head, pulling him against my chest, so he could hear my heart beating only for him. “I’m going to take care of you.”

  “I really hoped it was you. I really did…” he heaved into my neck, his arms wrapping gingerly around my waist, “thank you for finding me,”

  “Of course I found you… I’ve been looking for you for ages,” I whispered, finally giving in, shedding some tears, relieved that the tension, fear, uncertainty, and frustration were finally gone. My soulmate was in my arms, where he belonged! “My parents started looking for you when we were little. But we’re together now,”

  Peeta calmed down some, but he was still breathing too fast, “Now that you have me… what are you gonna do with me?” He asked meekly. 

  I smiled down at him, “I’ll put you somewhere safe, where you can never get hurt again,” 

  He closed his eyes. “I’d like that…” 

  “Peeta, you can’t go to sleep just yet, okay?”

  “I’m so tired, Katniss,”

  “I know,” I cooed. I had no idea I was capable of speaking with such softness. “My father will get here soon, and then we’ll patch you up real well.”

  “I can’t go back to my house though—“

  “You ain’t going there, kid!” Papa said from a few feet away. Gale and two police officers followed closely. 

  I must’ve been completely enthralled with my soulmate, because I never heard them coming, 

  “Even if it’s the last thing I do, I won’t let you go back to that place!” My father stated. 

  And that was that!

  ——————————-

“Tell me what happened,” Officer Darius asked in a soft tone, trying to be encouraging.

  My soulmate inhaled; one eye was so swollen it was completely shut, his other one roved around the room nervously. Peeta locked his gaze with mine, beseeching, and I offered my hand in support. He clung to it like a lifeline. 

  “My mother asked me to burn a pile of leaves and branches in the backyard that had been there since fall, but the branches were damp and it was taking me a while to fire it up. Since it’s the last week to burn stuff, my mom got impatient. She screamed at me, called me incompetent and useless… the usual stuff—“

  “Does your mother call you names regularly?” Asked the officer. 

  “My mom calls everybody names. I guess that’s how she was raised. Her mom used to call her names too…” Peeta shrugged.

  “That’s no reason to keep the cycle going,” my mama grumbled quietly, so only I could hear her.”

  “After insulting you, what else happened?” Prompted the police woman, Officer Purnia.

  Peeta scowled. “I told her I’d pour some lighter fluid on the pile and let it soak for a few minutes, but she wouldn’t hear it. Said I was doing it wrong, I was too stupid, I would never accomplish shit if I couldn’t even light up some dead branches… and, well. I got fed up. I told her she could start the fire herself if I was doing such a lousy job… my mom… she—She doesn’t like to be talked back…” He sagged on his hospital bed, and turned his face away. 

  “What do you mean?” Asked officer Purnia, taking notes, trying to keep an impassive mask on.

  “The first slap landed across my ear because I dared to move away from her flying hand,” Peeta said tersely, “She didn’t like that either, so she took aim again, but with the bottle of lighter fluid on her palm. She practically smashed it against my face.” He stopped to gasp for air, while his good eye filled with tears. “I think fluid squirted everywhere, I smelled like my hair and clothes had been doused in the stuff,” he raked a shaking hand over the singed hair at his temple. 

  I caressed his arm to sooth him. 

  He smiled gratefully at me, and faced the officers to continue. “I’d just put a piece of burning cardboard into the pile. I guess the leaves caught fire during the squabble with mom, and I must’ve lost my balance after taking a plastic bottle full of liquid to the face, because next thing I know, I’m bracing my hands on the ground, on burning sticks, and then I’m on fire myself.”

  Peeta sustained first degree burns on the different spots from his left forearm, up. Luckily, his wounds were managed as soon as we got to the emergency room, and his treating doctor said he would recover, with minimal scarring.

  “How did you end up at the Slag Heap?” Asked Officer Darius. 

  Peeta sighed, “My mom kind of freaked out when she realized I was on fire. She picked up a rag from somewhere and started hitting me with it…” he paused, “in retrospect, I think she may have actually been trying to help me, but… I just saw it like she was still trying to beat me, so I ran off. I tripped, fell, then rolled on the ground, she started calling my name, coming closer to me. I was scared. I took off again and didn’t stop until I fell at the foot of that mound of dirt in the slag heap. That’s when I noticed my soulmate’s note.”

  Officer Darius quirked up a reddish eyebrow, “Your soulmate’s note?” 

  “Yeah… these,” Peeta tried to peel back the bandage over his arm, but my mother put her hand over it, and shook her head. 

  “Here!” I said, immediately shoving my own arm in front of the officers. 

  Both examined my arm. “How did you think of doing that, Miss Everdeen?” 

  “I was inspired by your bosses actually,” I snarled.

  “Katniss!” Mama chided, and then politely addressed the officers. “You see, my husband and I have come to the authorities for many years, urging them to find a way to locate our daughter’s soulmate. You see, she’d started exhibiting her soulmate’s bruises from a very young age, which in my professional experience, were inconsistent with normal toddler scrapes and bumps—“

  “The chief of police always said to find a way to communicate with him, ask where he was… so I did,” I interrupted, haughtily. “I got you a real life victim to investigate. You’re welcome.”

  The officers stared at me, flabbergasted. 

  Mama made a dismaying noise in the back of her throat, but Peeta’s face— burnt, bruised and swollen— lighted up, with the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen a person direct at me. 

  Mama interjected, conciliatory, “My husband and I believe, your department should have enough evidence to investigate Peeta’s case, now?” My mother’s searching blue eyes seemed to x-ray the officers. 

  “Well, Miss and Mrs. Everdeen, Mister Mellark, I think we have everything we need for now. Thank you for your cooperation. We’ll be in touch.” Said Officer Purnia snapping shut her notebook. 

  “Mr. Mellark, your case worker, Miss Trinket, will be in as soon as the matter of your emergency custody is settled.” Informed Officer Darius, right before wishing us a good evening.

  Peeta frowned, “Are they sending me to like a home or something? What about my brothers? They can’t stay home with my mom… she’ll go nuts on them!” 

  “No, no, Peeta,” Mama spoke softly, “Miss Trinket is already on it. Haymitch Abernathy has offered his house for your brothers to stay at for a few days while things get sorted out. You’re welcome to join them, of course, but your injuries need supervision and several cleanings daily, so Mr. Everdeen and I feel it is in everyone’s best interest if you stay with us, at least until you’ve healed enough.” Mama hesitated, and then patted my soulmate’s hand, “I hope that’s okay with you, but if it isn’t—“

  “It’s absolutely great, ma’am! Yes, I—thank you,” 

  Mama nodded, “Well, I’m gonna go get some stuff taken care of, and check on that case worker. Then they’ll hopefully let us go home… Katniss, I’ll need your help with something before we leave, alright?”

  “‘kay.” 

  “Mrs. Everdeen…thank you,” Peeta said meekly. 

  Mama just stood stoically by the door, “You’re family, Peeta, it’s the least we could do for you.” The door clicked shut leaving me alone with my soulmate.

  We were both silent for a minute. Then Peeta said half amused, half shyly, “I think the guy cop liked you. I caught him smirking a couple of times after your ruthless answers.” His smile was crooked. Boyish. I almost swooned. 

  I shrugged. “I don’t think he cared that much,”

  “Are you serious?” Peeta laughed, “Katniss, you have no idea the effect you can have,”

  I scowled at him, and he just shook his head. I couldn’t tell if he was teasing me or complimenting me. He changed the topic before I could decide which. 

  “So, you’ve been looking for me then?” He sounded nervous, and a little uncertain, “isn’t it weird…we are soulmates, but the only thing I know for sure about you, is that your favorite color is green?” He rubbed his fingers together, then showed me the tips, where he had dark green spots, exactly on the same place I had permanent calluses from pulling on my bow string. 

  I bit my lower lip, studying the thin spidering of green nicks and scratches, were I surmised my own marks have appeared after my daily trips into the woods. 

  “Your favorite color is orange. Not bright, but muted…”

  “Like the sunset,” he finished for me. 

  Mind bonding wasn’t out of the realm of possibilities between soulmates, but my understanding on the matter was, that the bond had to be physically sealed before a pair could develop those empathic connections, where soulmates shared perfectly synchronized thoughts, as if they had one mind. Peeta and I weren’t there just yet, but it felt like we understood each other pretty well already. 

  He just stared at me in fascination, before his face fell, “I hope you don’t get permanently disfigured, if my burn scars don’t go away completely… you are so pretty.”

  I rolled my eyes, pleased that he thought I was pretty, but not really knowing how to respond graciously. I’d never been called pretty by a boy before, not that it’d have the same effect as when Peeta said it… “You’re just saying that I’m pretty because I’m your soulmate,” 

  He smiled sadly, “No… I really mean it. I’ve had a crush on you since I can remember. I just new I belonged to someone since I was like 4, when I saw my first soulmate scratch on my knees. Your favorite colors back then were teal and pink. Your marks were always swirls of the two colors. I liked them. I liked that I belonged to someone who enjoyed colors, like myself… I wondered what your marks looked like, but then, I hoped you never had to see my marks. I was ashamed of them.”  

  My chest tightened, I climbed onto his bed, and pressed my side right against his, “Hey… I’ve like your marks.” I stuttered, “my parents never let me see the ones on my back until I was older, but I liked the ones you got in normal places. Yours appeared as rainbows where we were little.” I held his hand in mine. “I don’t care if we stay fire mutts forever, Peeta, the important thing is that we are together now,” 

  “Thank you for finding me,”

  “Thank you for leading me to you,”

  We leaned our heads together, and fell into an easy silence.

  “Katniss…”

  “Mmm,”

  “We are soulmates.” 

  I tilted my head away, to look at him, “Yeah. We already established that,” I said suspiciously.

  Peeta smirked, “You know, we’re supposed to be madly in love…so, it’s okay to kiss me whenever you want to,” 

  I snorted and rolled my eyes, but he was right. In any other circumstance, I’m sure we would’ve already progressed into couple-y, lovey-dovey stuff. 

  “If you’re already fishing for kisses, that means you’re healthy then!” I kissed his forehead. “But let me tell you right now, cheek and sass won’t take too far, sir,”

  “It won’t?” he pouted, “then I’ll just have to swoop in when I see an opening,” he leaned into me, and I let him plant a peck, full on my lips. 

  My first kiss ever, and all I could register was how chapped his lips were… besides the small fluttering of butterfly wings in the pit of my stomach, of course. 

  “Well, time for a sip of water, and you should rest some too.” I said feeding him the straw in the Styrofoam cup full of icy water by his bed. 

  After he drank, we gravitated towards each other, meeting in the middle. Our second kiss was short, sweet, and full of relief. 

  I liked it. In fact, I wanted another, but Peeta was drowsy after the day we’ve had. 

  “I remember you used to sing, so beautifully, even the birds would stop to listen,” Peeta said, shyly… “would you… mind singing for me?”

  “I don’t sing all that much nowadays, but if that’s what you want…”

  He stared at me expectantly, so I had no other choice. I combed back his freshly washed hair, and started.

  “Just close your eyes;

The sun is going down.

You’ll be alright;

No one can hurt you now.

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound...”

  When Mama came back, Peeta was asleep, and so she took me outside while my father sat in the room with the case worker, signing in my soulmate’s release papers, waiting for him to wake up. 

  “I want you to take these,” Mama produced a packet of medicine from a white, pharmaceutical baggie. 

  “Birth control?!” I groaned, embarrassed. 

  “Don’t look so scandalized, Katniss,” Mama rolled her eyes, “You and Peeta are healthy, newly acquainted teenaged soulmates, who will suddenly coexist together in close quarters. Papa and I agreed that starting you on contraceptives is the right thing to do,” she fixed me with a stare that broker no protests, “That said, we are not giving you carte blanche to act on pure hormonal instincts, Katniss. While we aren’t so naive to believe you won’t explore intimacy with your soulmate, we fully expect you to use caution, and make responsible decisions. Is that clear?” 

  I nodded, and snatched the pills from Mama’s outstretched hand. My face was burning with mortification, but I was grateful for my parents’ wherewithal and openness. 

  The next few days proved harsh and blissful at the same time. After 11 years pestering the authorities, Papa finally got the law to prosecute my soulmate’s parents for abuse and neglect. To call it a victory, was understatement. 

  Peeta’s father was declared another victim of the Witch’s abuse, but court ordered him to see a therapist and get evaluated by a professional, before he could come back home to his sons. 

  Mrs. Mellark was charged with endangering a child, battery, abuse and arson. She was court ordered to seek anger management and psychological counseling. She had been abused as a child too, and after watching her son in fire, it finally clicked in her head, that she needed to put a stop to the cycle… late as it may be. She went willingly when the police served her arrest warrants. 

  Since Peeta and his middle brother were still minors, they were temporarily placed under their eldest brother’s care; but the eldest brother was only 19 and had no idea how to be a father figure, so strange as it was, my parents insisted on having them all bunk in our tiny house, which was comically insufficient. Thank heavens Haymitch Abernathy was still willing to help. 

  The grumpy old drunk invited the lot of us to stay at his place for as long as we needed, and after cleaning up all the empty bottles and general messes around his huge house, we could enjoy the place at our leisure. 

  The boys kept working at the bakery, since they needed a source of income, and something to keep themselves occupied. Mama said they needed the normalcy of their business to cope. 

  It was a good thing Haymitch’s house was so big, since Peeta started having horrible nightmares after his mother was released from holding, after making bail; her trial was still pending, but my poor soulmate suffered severe PTSD from the events that brought us together. Neither of his brothers wanted to share a room with him at night…which allowed me to slip in when I heard him crying out desperately and fearfully.

  Peeta would only go back to sleep after I laid beside him and sang, while carding my fingers through his sweat-damped, ashy blond waves. 

  “I’m not okay until I can see you’re safe,” he told me once. 

  After the third night in a row of this happening, I just stayed with him in his bed. My parents didn’t exactly approve— we were still 16— but there wasn’t much they could say to stop us. After all, our soulmate bond trumped any other familial bond; we just couldn’t legally get married and apply for housing until we were both 18. 

  Peeta still woke up in cold sweats at night, but my arms were there to fend off the terrors, and so were my lips. 

  On the night I felt a hunger so consuming and devastating, gnawing at me from my core, radiating to the tips of my being, I was glad my mother put me on birth control. 

  My soulmate gently, but steadily joined us together, cementing our physical bond for the rest of time, while branding his love and adoration to me into my very skin, with fevered lips and shaky hands. We gasped and whispered vows of devotion to one another, and then an explosion of feelings and emotions went off… I couldn’t tell where his life force started, and mine ended. We were one. Sharing a single soul. 

  After, we laid tangled together, our hearts beating as one. Peeta kissed my knuckles, and asked.

  “You looked for me, for years. Real or not real?”

  “Real.”

  He kissed my forehead, “Will you sing?” 

  “Of course,” I combed back his hair with loving fingers, and sang.

  “Just close your eyes;

You’ll be alright;

Come morning light,

You and I’ll be safe and sound.”

[hexalianrebel-blackfeathers]

No Flash Photography

Panda's Notes: @rosileeduckie IT'S DONE!! >w< This story was inspired by Ro's story "Pics or It Didn't Happen, Bro", which is an awesome little story that I love going back to. I couldn't help dying for a sequel, and I somehow got their blessing to make an unofficial one of my own. >w<

Find it/both on AO3!

Iida fiddled a bit anxiously with his phone, just trying to decide if he was willing to take the risk. To throw himself back into the proverbial lion’s den just for…what? Nothing really.

Nothing material, at least.

His phone buzzed against his palm, making him flinch and nearly drop it. Of course, it was another in a long list of messages in the group chat egging each other on. He rolled his eyes before skimming over—

Wait.

Sero: Look, I know we’ve all been saying it as a joke, but I’m stepping up.

Sero: Class Rep, since this is your fault, I dare you to “win” another #ticklefightwithBakugou. Pics or it didn’t happen, right guys?

There was a new onslaught of quick messages and shocked or laughing emojis as the class gossips alerted Iida to the callout.

Iida: You’re really calling me out, huh? What’s the catch?

Mina: Pretty sure the catch is getting the pics before Bakugou finds out you took the dare lol

“If you don’t quit texting and fucking move, I will flip this board onto you.”

Joke’s on them; he was already toeing the line there.

Iida chuckled softly, setting his phone face-down underneath his leg and looking over the chess board between them. He pushed one of his rooks forward, and he tried to resist a smile when Bakugou tsked under his breath.

“Why did you have to pick fucking chess, Four-Eyes?”

“You said you didn’t want to help with the puzzle; you could have said no.”

“Mmph…” Bakugou tapped one of his pawns on the board before shifting it forward. “So, what are those losers talking about anyway?”

It was a little interesting knowing he wasn’t included under the “losers” umbrella this time, and Iida tipped his head to look over the board.

“Oh, you know…” He hummed, unsure how much he could let on. “Same memes every week; Yaoyorozu’s scheduling study sessions for that test we have coming up—” He set down the pawn he’d chosen, his eyes searching for something of interest.

“Any new bets going around?” Bakugou snatched up the pawn, and swapped it with his bishop, smirking slightly across the table at Iida.

Iida tapped his fingers on his knee for a moment, biting his lip as he tried to keep his face in check. “Ah, well, I haven’t really been in that channel lately. Why?” He shifted another pawn forward.

Bakugou huffed and shrugged his shoulder. “No reason, I guess, just…” And the bishop took the offered pawn. “That #ticklefightwithBakugou thing is still going around, isn’t it?”

Iida let a chuckle slip, putting his hands up when Bakugou glowered at him. “You’re still thinking about that? Are you afraid someone might take advantage?” The question was emphasized by Bakugou’s bishop getting unceremoniously trampled by Iida’s knight. If looks could kill, the class rep’s head would have exploded.

“Don’t even think about putting fucking words in my mouth, four-eyes.” Bakugou practically snarled, moving one of his own knights out from its starting position. “I asked because I’m still catching shit from Pinky and Tapeface asking if you were lying or not.”

“Did you tell them?” There might have been a teasing little note to Iida’s voice as he castled his king and rook, and he yelped when Bakugou gave him a swift kick to his shin.

“If I had told them; they would have told the whole damn school, dumbass. Of course I didn’t tell them.” A pawn was inched forward as he buried his pouting mouth in his hand.

“You’re scared they’ll find out you’re all ticklish, huh?” One of Iida’s bishops was advancing.

“You shut your fucking mouth.” Bakugou grumbled, moving his rook halfway across the board as he attempted to cover the hint of red crawling up his face.

Iida couldn’t help smiling as he scooted a pawn. “That’s kind of adorable, Bakugou. What if…I got you again?” He asked softly as Bakugou was reaching for a piece.

Bakugou’s hand flinched, and the lone bishop clicked as the magnet in its base reattached to the board. He glared over at Iida again before a smirk spread across his face. He picked up the bishop again, and he set it down with a renewed confidence. “I knew you were up to something, you little shit.”

“What?!” Iida feigned offense, crushing one of Bakugou’s pawns under his rook. “I’m not up to anything. You brought it up.”

Bakugou hummed and looked over the board as Iida was putting the captured pawn to the side. “I wonder why I don’t believe you.”

Iida shrugged a bit himself, glancing away when Bakugou looked up at him again. “Perhaps you’re a bit paranoid? I can relate, actually; I remember when the year started, a few of our classmates made a similar bet targeting me.”

Bakugou snorted, remembering that couple of weeks back in May. The others had taken turns cracking bad jokes and sneaking pokes to the class rep’s sides in attempts to make him laugh. “Oh, yeah, that’s right…” He smirked as Iida was moving a knight, moving his bishop into an attacking position. “You’re pretty ticklish yourself.”

It was Iida’s turn to flinch a little, a nervous smile forcing itself across his face. A few syllables tripped and stumbled out of his mouth as he moved his knight to escape.

“And!” Bakugou piped up again. “If I remember correctly, you kind of like being tickled.” His bishop zipped forward, catching a pawn off guard.

“I—What? W-Where would you get that idea?” Iida cleared his throat when his voice came out squeakily, shifting his rook to snatch one of Bakugou’s pawns.

“Because, Speed Racer, you are a shitty liar. Plus:” Bakugou’s knight suddenly appeared and nudged Iida’s rook, and his fingers moved with a bit of wiggling flair before he snapped them sharply and pointed to himself. “My eyes are up here.”

Iida blushed brightly. He hadn’t even noticed that he’d been watching his opponent’s hands that closely. And being redirected to that smirking face and piercing stare didn’t help him at all.

Bakugou chuckled softly, watching as Iida hesitantly moved his only unseated pawn. “So, what was your little plan, huh? Did you even have one?”

“Mm, I suppose not.” He admitted, releasing a shaky breath when none of his pieces were taken this time. “It’s not exactly an easy win condition, you see.”

Bakugou hummed and gave a slight nod, picking up his Queen. “Pics or it didn’t happen, right?” He set it down with a resounding tap, pulling the now defeated knight off the board as Iida stared across the board at him. “Check. Your move, bitch.”

Iida pounced.

The chess board clattered as one of their flailing legs kicked it off of the couch, most of the magnetic pieces zipping back to the board while the others went AWOL.

“When the fuck did you get so heavy?!” Bakugou snapped, pawing at Iida’s arms as the taller boy was attempting to straddle his legs.

Iida sacrificed his arm, grabbing at one of Bakugou’s wrists while his free hand pulled his phone out of the pocket on his leg. Bakugou reached and attempted to slap at his arm, a fiercely determined smile on his face as his struggling nearly pushed Iida over.

Iida couldn’t resist the giggles that were slipping out of him, and he nearly lost his balance when Bakugou’s free hand suddenly attacked his side with scribbling nails. But his camera was open, and he tightened his grip on Bakugou’s wrist as he quickly looked for an opening while keeping his phone out of his victim’s reach.

And he spotted it. He held his phone up over Bakugou’s face, and when he tried to snatch it, Iida released the wrist he’d captured in favor of shoving that hand into Bakugou’s exposed armpit.

That previously smug face was caught in full view of the camera as is shifted instantly from shock to splitting open with a loud laugh.

“Y-You fucker!” He barked out, both of his hands retreating to press against his ribcage as he started to writhe a bit. His feet flailed and pushed against the couch behind Iida, a hint of red quickly filling his cheeks as a snort broke out of his chest. He immediately covered his face when the sound escaped, unable to stop the two others that followed it as his free hand tried to slap Iida’s phone again. “Fuck off, four-eyes!” He barely squeaked out through helpless giggles.

Iida’s face lit up as he finally stopped recording, taking a victory lap of sorts by giving a few more teasing scribbles as he navigated his phone with one hand. Bakugou struggled and clutched at Iida’s arm, and the class rep nearly buckled when those nails dug ticklishly into his elbow.

“Ha!” Iida suddenly exclaimed, laughing a bit himself. “I got it!” He grinned playfully down at Bakugou as the group chat came to life from his universal tag.

Sero: HOLY SHIT MAN I WAS KIDDING

Mina: LOL A true king!

Ochacco: He’s so cute!!

The comments went on like that and spurred a bout of conversation in that channel, several of their classmates following Mina’s lead and spamming the video with crown reactions. Half of the ones in attendance were also tagging Bakugou for confirmation, as if this weren’t literally happening right now.

Iida giggled softly, letting his fingers still and pulling his hand back. He turned his phone to give Bakugou a glance. “You’re trending, Katsuki.”

Bakugou panted softly, but his eyes fell on the screen within a second. “I’m always trending, fuckface.” He scoffed, crossing his arms and shrugging.

Iida shook his head and chuckled, scrolling back to play the video back for himself: the way Bakugou broke so quickly from that one spot; pulled his hands in tight and just laughed; The way he smiled and just succumbed to—

Wait a second.

“You…” Iida murmured, his eyes widening slightly as he realized he was still straddling his former victim. “You let me win.”

“Hm?” Bakugou hummed, resting his head on his hand as he propped it on his elbow. “What do you mean~?”

Iida’s face fell into a pout at that playful tone. “Why did you… Why would you?”

“Hm…” Bakugou sighed and hummed, scratching casually at his face and running his free hand through his hair. “Why would I let you win…? Why would I basically throw a bet to let you look good?”

Iida crossed his arms, scooting back slightly as Bakugou moved to sit up.

“Well, I don’t know.” Bakugou sighed with a shrug. “Oh, wait.”

He suddenly lunged forward, and Iida only noticed his phone being snatched from his hand before he was being manhandled. The pair of them wrestled; okay, Iida tried to wrestle, but Bakugou managed to get behind him and yank him back against his chest.

“W-What are you doing?!” Iida cried, attempting to flail as Bakugou’s free arm wrapped across his chest. A squeal jumped out of his mouth as fingers scribbled softly at his ribs.

“Take a wild guess, four-eyes.” Bakugou smirked, wrapping his legs loosely around Iida’s waist before holding up the stolen phone and tapping the screen a few times to start a video call. “Anyone who’s not a fucking coward better get on call right the fuck now.”

“Wait, that’s not fai—!” Iida shrieked as both of their faces appeared in a small window, getting cut off by his own loud giggles when Bakugou started to tickle him again.

The text chat lit up again with shocked comments and laughter before several small windows popped up in the call, with Sero and Ashido, of course, being the loudest.

“This is your king, huh?!” Bakugou asked teasingly, skittering his fingers up and down Iida’s ribs and toward his stomach and smirking broadly at his captive’s writhing. “This giggly, string-bean bitch?!”

“Don’t let him win, Iida!” Ashido laughed, waving at her webcam.

“Pfft, rest in peace, class rep!” Kaminari taunted, and Kirishima covered his mouth with his textbook beside him.

“This is why I don’t play the hashtag games with you guys!” Midoriya insisted, trying not to laugh. “Kacchan’s mean!”

Bakugou chuckled as he watched the text conversations go on beneath the excited chatter on the video call, sneaking his hand up to scribble under Iida’s chin.

“You losers better believe I’m fucking mean.” He growled, grinning wider. “You want a tickle fight; I’ll bring you a fucking war.”

He moved his hand up quickly, pulling Iida’s head close so he could press a loud raspberry against the side of his neck. The class rep’s shriek was parroted by a couple of the girls squealing excitedly along with taunts and jabs from all of them.

“B-Bakugou, please!” Iida whined, trying to paw at Bakugou’s hand as he giggled and laughed.

“Which one of them dies next?”

“What?! I-I—No!” He wailed as Bakugou blew another raspberry on his neck.

“Pick one of them, or I will end this call and find your kill spot.”

There was a chorus of chatter as cameras quickly shut off, but their friends’ voices still cheered them both on. Bakugou’s fingers were attempting to worm under Iida’s arm, and he curled in tight as he laughed a bit louder.

“Tick-tock, bitch~” Bakugou purred, leaning into his neck again.

“Sero! I pick Sero!” Iida cried out, his face running red as he felt Bakugou’s lips pressing gently before pulling away.

“Oh, my gods, you narc!” Sero laughed, and most of the others started to tease him too.

“You heard him, Tapeface. You’d better be ready.” Bakugou growled playfully, curling his fingers into a claw and digging them into Iida’s back to get a good shriek before finally cutting the video call.

Iida leaned heavily against Bakugou’s shoulder, lost in a haze of giggles as the blonde gave him a few more teasing scribbles. Turnabout is fair play, after all. He recognized the sound of his phone’s camera clicking before Bakugou finally gave him a push and slipped out from under him.

“I think #ticklefightwithBakugou is going to need its own channel soon.” Bakugou chuckled, tossing Iida’s phone onto his stomach after another moment.

Iida flinched a bit at the impact, only making a move to catch it when it felt like it would fall. As he finally caught his breath, he looked at the screen. Four new photos: all of them selfies of the pair of them with Bakugou mugging and Iida laughing himself silly; and a fifth one: Bakugou planting a kiss on Iida’s cheek while the boy’s glasses were skewed off of his face.

“Well, four-eyes,” Bakugou called with a sneer, having already made his way halfway to the stairs. “You coming or what?”

Iida blushed again and swallowed the lump in his throat, fixing his glasses before pocketing his phone. “You know what, why not?” He smiled back, hopping up to follow.

It wasn’t until he shook a little magnetic rook from his slipper on the third landing that he remembered the mess they’d left. Bakugou just laughed at him when he suggested they go back.