#avoid the silence of your own mind that leads to a deeper understanding of self

[brigitoshaughnessy]

🤐 (“Shhh, it’s okay Jack O’Neill. At least I understand you.”)

Sometimes you like the fandom favorite and that's annoying because you have to see all the wild takes that do not interpret them the correct way. Other times, you like the fandom's least favorite and that's annoying because you still have to see all the wild takes that do not interpret them the correct way.

[ahopkins1965]

SKIP TO CONTENT

Psychology

When Gratitude Leads You to Accept Less Than You Deserve

by Lan Nguyen Chaplin and Mike Chisholm

February 19, 2025



Francesco Carta fotografo/Getty Images

Summary.   

It’s no secret that practicing gratitude offers numerous benefits that can significantly enhance both individual and organizational performance. But excessive gratitude has its pitfalls....more

It’s no secret that practicing gratitude offers numerous benefits that can significantly enhance both individual and organizational performance. Research shows that it leads to increased engagement, higher productivity, and better retention rates. Gratitude can also be a tool for long-term success, fostering a positive mindset and leading to increased job satisfaction.

But what if we told you that gratitude also has its pitfalls?

We’re an unlikely duo—a gratitude and well-being scholar (Lan) and a CEO and executive advisor (Mike)—who connected on LinkedIn and engaged with each other’s content. During our discussions, we both reflected on our career journeys, realizing we shared a common regret: not having been more proactive in self-advocacy throughout our professional lives. This common ground stemmed from our humble beginnings, which had instilled in us a deep sense of gratitude for even the smallest of opportunities or acknowledgments, often at the expense of asserting our own worth and potential. As we delved deeper into the subject, we realized that an imbalanced approach to gratitude can have negative effects on our reasoning and decision making.

If you have ever accepted a modest raise, taken on a lateral move, or agreed to an additional project despite your full workload—all while feeling grateful for your manager’s recognition, yet silencing your true ambitions for fear of seeming ungrateful—you have experienced one of the pitfalls of excessive gratitude, without even realizing it.

But this isn’t as uncommon as you think.

Three Pitfalls of Excessive Gratitude

Falling into a gratitude trap could make us complacent and hinder professional development by creating a barrier to effective self-advocacy. Failing to balance appreciation for what we have and the drive to improve our circumstances can possibly lead to a career where your contributions are praised but the eventual outcome is missed opportunities for professional growth. As you embark on or continue your gratitude practice, be mindful of these three pitfalls—and learn how to avoid them.

Pitfall #1: Becoming content with the status quo or settling for less

Let’s say you get a chance to contribute to an important project. While it’s an exciting opportunity, it’s not exactly what you hoped for. You really aspired to lead this project. You might think to yourself, “I should be grateful I’m on the project. I’m better off than those who didn’t get this chance at all.” This is a classic example of downward social comparison, wherein gratitude can lead you to compare your situation favorably to others who may be less fortunate. While this perspective can be valuable at times, it can also be a barrier to self-improvement and advocacy.

How to avoid this pitfall: 

To avoid complacency and missed opportunities, understand that self-promotion is essential for career growth, and recognize that aspiring for more does not negate gratitude for present circumstances. In fact, aspiring for more reflects a healthy ambition and a desire for continuous improvement.

In a situation like this, engage with your manager to discuss your professional journey by highlighting your capabilities. Affirm your commitment to your ongoing project’s success. Then, clearly articulate your aspirations using “I statements” (e.g., I feel prepared to lead…).

“I statements” allow you to express your perspective assertively while helping listeners understand your viewpoint without feeling attacked, facilitating clearer communication. They also enhance emotional intelligence by increasing awareness of your own emotions. For example, instead of saying “You don’t give me enough stretch projects,” reframe this statement: “I feel ready to take on more challenging assignments that expand my skill set, and I’d like to discuss how I can contribute more to the team.”

This reframing avoids blame, centers a proactive mindset, and invites collaborative dialogue about growth opportunities.

Pitfall #2:  Avoiding critical conversations

An overemphasis on gratitude can make you hesitant to voice legitimate concerns, potentially missing opportunities for improvement. For instance, you may feel hesitant to broach topics such as racism, sexism, or discriminatory behaviors with those in positions of authority or influence, such as managers, donors, founders, or board members because you feel it is expected of you to be grateful for the support they have given you. Or you might hesitate to tell your manager that you might be experiencing burnout fearing you’ll appear ungrateful for the opportunity to work on important projects.

The fear of being perceived as ungrateful for opportunities “given” to you can create a barrier to open communication, where valid concerns are suppressed, perpetuating a cycle of silence around important issues that need addressing.

How to avoid this pitfall: 

Expressing appreciation for opportunities or support doesn’t preclude addressing uncomfortable topics, including systemic issues. One way to avoid this pitfall is by adjusting your mindset to focus on what you have earned (“I’m grateful my manager recognized my high performance and assigned this project to me”) more than what you have been gifted (“I’m grateful my manager gave me the opportunity to work on this project”). This shift in mindset can help you feel empowered to have difficult conversations with your manager.

For example, to address concerns about equity, you can try to frame necessary reforms as commitments to shared values rather than personal attacks on any individual or the leadership team. You could say, “Thank you for fostering a culture where feedback is valued, and we feel heard. To embody our commitment to inclusion, I’d like to work with you to address how promotion timelines disproportionately impact caregivers.” This approach creates a foundation of goodwill that can facilitate challenging conversations while aligning your concerns with the company’s broader mission, increasing the likelihood that your suggestions will be well-received and acted upon.

When discussing workload concerns with your supervisor, present concrete data demonstrating how your capacity has been exceeded. For instance, if you are experiencing burnout risks due to competing priorities, you might say: “I aim to maintain high-quality output on our key projects; however, my current workload is creating conflicting demands. I have three project kick-offs over the next 10 days. And each requires a prep of at least three days. Perhaps we could review organizational priorities to identify tasks that could be temporarily scaled back or reassigned, ensuring that I focus on the most critical areas and perform at high standards without experiencing burnout.”

Pitfall #3: Masking negative emotions

While gratitude can be a powerful tool for well-being, an excessive focus on positivity can sometimes lead to emotional suppression. This phenomenon, often termed “toxic positivity,” occurs when gratitude practices are used to bypass or minimize legitimate concerns and negative experiences. Research also shows that individuals may experience cognitive dissonance when they feel compelled to project positivity despite experiencing negative emotions. By constantly seeking silver linings, you may unintentionally avoid confronting difficult emotions or addressing the underlying issues that are contributing to them.

Say, you’re entrusted with every high-profile project on the team and that makes you feel proud, accomplished, and valued. But you also feel frustrated and overwhelmed at the sheer quantum of that work. You work weekends and nights to get through your to-do list. But you choose not to voice this because you’re grateful for the immense flexibility your manager has extended to you, which has made it easier for you to manage work and life responsibilities.

How to avoid this pitfall:

Remember that it’s normal to have a multitude of emotions and that all emotions are valid and serve a purpose, even the uncomfortable ones. Having the courage to feel negative emotions can be empowering—it can be the fuel you need to push for change.

Setting boundaries is an essential part of this process and it involves clearly communicating your limits and needs to others. For example, in the situation above, you can express your appreciation for another opportunity while transparently outlining how you feel about your current workload. You might say: “Thank you for considering me for another exciting opportunity. I’m eager to start, but I’m also committed to excelling in my current work on [projects]. It’s been challenging managing the competing deadlines for these three projects, and I was wondering if you could help me figure how we should we sequence this new initiative?”

By acknowledging all your emotions and setting clear boundaries, you create a healthier environment that supports self-advocacy. 

Gratitude is vital for mental wellbeing, but it is also important to be mindful of its pitfalls. As you navigate the complex landscape of modern business, it’s crucial to recognize that gratitude and self-advocacy are not mutually exclusive. In fact, when approached mindfully, they can be powerful complementary forces driving both personal satisfaction and professional success. By cultivating empowered gratitude, you can build the confidence and growth mindset needed to advocate for yourself and your organization effectively.

LC

Lan Nguyen Chaplin is professor of marketing at Northwestern University, Medill School of Journalism, Media, Integrated Marketing Communications. She is also the founder of QuanTâm, a nonprofit that creates opportunities for young professionals to expand their networks and sharpen their professional skills while serving their community.    

MC

Mike Chisholm is the Founder and CEO of Chisholm Consulting Group, specializing in strategy planning and execution, mergers and acquisitions, and business transformation. Mike has held senior executive roles in business services and supply chain and logistics, including, President & CEO of A & A Customs Brokers, CEO and COO of Canstar Restorations, and several senior executive leadership roles with Livingston International and Day & Ross.









Read more on Psychology

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[soulvedablog]

The Power of Practicing Silence: How Embracing Stillness Transforms Mind and Life

The Need for Silence in a Noisy World

In a world full of constant chatter, the art of silence often seems lost. We are surrounded by the hum of technology, social media notifications, and endless conversations. Yet, practicing silence is more than just avoiding noise; it is about cultivating inner peace, clarity, and understanding. The need for silence has never been greater, as it offers a sanctuary from the overwhelming demands of modern life.

In this blog, we will explore the benefits of practicing silence, why it is essential, and how to make it a part of your daily routine for a more peaceful and meaningful life.

What Does Practicing Silence Mean?

Practicing silence goes beyond simply staying quiet. It is a deliberate choice to tune out external distractions and focus inwardly. Silence can be observed in many forms—whether it’s in meditation, mindfulness, or even during moments of reflection.

Silence helps you listen better, not just to others, but to your own thoughts and feelings. It is about creating space for self-awareness, deeper thinking, and emotional balance. It is about being fully present in the moment without the pressure to speak or react.

Why Silence Matters

Improved Mental ClarityOne of the most immediate benefits of practicing silence is the clarity it brings to your mind. When the noise of daily life fades, you gain the ability to focus on what truly matters. Silence allows the mind to declutter, revealing insights that might have been buried under the hustle and bustle.

Emotional BalanceIn silence, emotions have a space to surface without judgment. When we stop to listen to our feelings without external distractions, we can process emotions more effectively. It’s a powerful way to reduce stress, anxiety, and even anger. Practicing silence helps you gain emotional balance, making it easier to respond rather than react impulsively.

Enhanced CreativityCreativity thrives in silence. Without constant interruptions, the mind is free to wander, explore ideas, and think outside the box. Some of the greatest thinkers and artists of history, like Einstein and Picasso, credited silence and solitude as crucial to their creative process. By practicing silence, you give your brain the opportunity to rest and recharge, leading to greater creativity.

Strengthened RelationshipsSilence can improve your relationships by enhancing your ability to listen. Often, in conversations, we are focused on responding rather than truly hearing the other person. Practicing silence teaches patience, encouraging you to listen more deeply and communicate more effectively. This leads to deeper connections and more meaningful relationships.

How to Practice Silence in Daily Life

You don’t need to retreat to a monastery to embrace silence. It’s possible to practice silence in small, intentional ways each day.

Morning Quiet TimeStart your day with silence. Rather than reaching for your phone or turning on the TV, spend the first few minutes after waking up in quiet contemplation. This sets a calm tone for the day and helps you gather your thoughts before the world’s demands start pulling you in different directions.

Mindful MeditationMeditation is a powerful tool for practicing silence. It involves focusing on your breath and quieting the mind. Regular meditation, even for just 10 minutes a day, can greatly improve your ability to stay calm, focused, and centered.

Silent Walks in NatureTake time to walk in nature without any distractions. Leave your phone behind and immerse yourself in the sights and sounds around you. A walk in silence can be incredibly restorative, helping you connect with yourself and the world in a deeper way.

Digital DetoxOne of the greatest sources of noise today is our digital devices. Set aside time each day to disconnect from social media, emails, and constant notifications. Use this time to be present, think, and reflect without the distraction of technology.

Silent Reflection Before BedEnd your day with a moment of silence. Before falling asleep, reflect on the day’s events without speaking or engaging in any activities. This helps your mind unwind and prepares you for a restful night.

The Spiritual Dimension of Silence

For many, practicing silence is a spiritual experience. Silence is often associated with deeper states of awareness, introspection, and connection with the universe or a higher power. Religious and spiritual traditions throughout history, from Buddhism to Christianity, have emphasized the value of silence in the pursuit of enlightenment and inner peace.

In moments of silence, we can connect with something greater than ourselves, whether that be a sense of purpose, nature, or a higher spiritual truth. Silence allows us to explore the mysteries of life, offering a space for reflection on our purpose and place in the world.

Challenges of Practicing Silence

Despite its benefits, practicing silence can be challenging in today’s fast-paced world. The constant stimulation from social media, work, and family can make it difficult to find quiet moments. Additionally, many people find silence uncomfortable at first, as it forces them to confront their inner thoughts and emotions.

However, like any skill, practicing silence gets easier with time. The key is to start small—integrate short periods of silence into your daily routine and gradually increase the duration as it becomes more comfortable.

Conclusion: Embrace Silence for a Fuller Life

Practicing silence is a powerful tool for personal growth, emotional well-being, and creativity. In a world that never seems to stop, silence offers a chance to pause, reflect, and reconnect with what truly matters. By incorporating silence into your life, you can cultivate a sense of calm, clarity, and deeper understanding—both of yourself and the world around you.

The next time life feels overwhelming, remember that peace is just a moment of silence away. Embrace the stillness, and allow the power of practicing silence to transform your mind, body, and spirit.

[spacedikut]

exam help ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid x gn!reader

summary: a self-indulgent blurb about spencer helping with exams :) 1.7k

a/n: first fic of the year :D happy 2021!

masterlist

Another anguish-filled screech reverberates from your and Spencer’s shared office, bringing even your pet fish in the tank to attention.

It’s the third one this hour. Spencer tries to ignore it, just like you told him to, but God you sound like you’re in pain and Spencer can’t exactly ignore that, can he? He loves you and cares for you and- oh. A thump reaches his ears. A textbook, maybe? Did you punch your textbook?

He considers for a moment that the neighbours will be alarmed, perhaps call the police or tentatively knock with a, “Is everything okay in there?”

It wouldn’t be the first time.

What would he tell them? Oh, my apologies, my partner has exams coming up and just told me they get why unsubs do that now. I am also terrified.

There are many instances where Spencer feels useless. During his job, when his mother would have an episode, when his friends have problems he just wouldn’t understand. But, somehow, and maybe controversially, this is the worst type of uselessness. The type that leaves him staring at the wall, questioning everything, the type that makes his stomach drop because all he can do is watch.

He’s been watching you for the last two weeks. He’s sick of watching, of being no help, and he needs to do something before he breaks and does something illegal.

(The illegal thing is doing your exams for you - not illegal as in, perhaps, murder)

Your frazzled head pops out from the office, one hand rubbing your eyes and a permanent frown etched on your face, and with a fragile voice you ask, “Can you make me a coffee, please?”

Now, Spencer feels hypocritical, but he has to say it. “Another? Are you sure?”

He sees the internal battle within you, how you try your hardest not to snap. It’s not his fault you’re stressed. He’s just trying to help. “Yes, I’m sure. Please, Spence,”

“Of course. I’ll bring it in.”

“Thank you.” With a pained smile, you’re gone again into the dark abyss of where you’re studying.

With quick, ingrained movements, Spencer makes your coffee with too much creamer and marshmallows. Unusual, yes, but your current diet consists of coffee and whatever he can force you to consume – like marshmallows.

But then, hello, he spots a chocolate bar haphazardly close to the bin, grabs it, and hopes you let him watch you eat it.

Stepping into the room as quietly as possible, he’s smacked in the face by the smell of lavender. It makes him nauseous, the intensity of it, quickly followed by a lurch of his heart because you poor thing, you’re being crushed by the weight of your degree – literally. The other day you purchased an insanely heavy weighted blanket and you’re drowning in it.

Now, if you were to ask Spencer who the most beautiful person on the planet is, he’d say you in a heartbeat. He’s thought that since you first met and, years later, still stands by that. But now, right now, glowering at him in the dimly lit, lavender drenched study that you used to love oh-so-much? You have the face of a French bulldog, all grumpy and furrowed and too many creases on your face to make Spencer feel like he’s actually helping when he places the coffee and snack on your desk.

Despite the crabby expression, your words are filled with love and appreciation – which happens to be Spencer’s favourite mix. “Thank you, my love.” You take a sip of the coffee, hum in delight, and for the first time in days there’s a spark of something other than torment. “You’re the best.”

Spencer’s hand holds the back of your neck and he places a series of soft kisses to your temple, mumbling, “I love you. Very much. Is there anything else you need?”

“Death.”

“Okay. I’ll work on it.”

At that, you grace Spencer with a weak half-smile. It’s enough to overwhelm Spencer, overflowing and only able to be shown through a chaste, encouraging peck on your lips and a half-hug, Spencer bent at the waist to hold you in your desk chair. He noses your hair, hoping his closeness will alleviate some stress, before stepping back and praying his eyes tell you everything he wants to say but know will elicit annoyance from you.

I love you. Take care of yourself. Rest, please. You can do this, but not if you over exert yourself. I love you.

Your eyes tell him, I’ll try. I love you. And that’s all he can ask for.

But when he leaves, shuffles past his bookshelf, his eyes catch sight of an old file that reminds him of when he was preparing for his own exams.

He gets an idea.

+++

It takes another two days, full of late nights involving work that isn’t staying up and distracting himself with books to avoid worrying over you and how late you go to sleep, and reading that leaves Spencer in awe of you and everyone in your field.

A part of him is amazed by how he wheelbarrowed the resources behind you without you noticing, another is worried about that fact, and the rest of him is excited that he can finally do something that will actually help. At least, he hopes.

(When everything is said and done, despite being endlessly grateful, you also inform Spencer that simply being there and being him and getting you coffee every time you ask is more than enough, really)

With pride, he leans back on the couch, observing his creations on the coffee table. There’s plenty of different colours, all representing a different topic, and he presses the thumbs up to like the Youtube video he was using to ensure his handwriting is easy to read.

Flashcards. Hundreds, if Spencer counted correctly. The textbooks he stole – borrowed – from under your nose lie next to his feet, the weight of them combined more of a workout than he’s (voluntarily) done in eons.

He only hopes you don’t think it’s too late, think he’s overstepping or-or that he’s doing those things that he’s been accused of before – thinking he knows best (he does, but whatever), overbearing arrogance, an unwillingness to hear and accept other people’s way of doing things.

He just wants to help. He wants you to know he’s here for you, no matter what you need. This is the thing that lets him believe he’s doing something, something good and useful. Spencer just wants to be useful.

He’s convinced you to eat a proper breakfast – fruit, oats, bread, meat, a whole buffet – and you sense something is amiss when you hear slow, tentative footsteps creeping from your bedroom.

Spencer, still in his pyjamas, glasses perched on his nose, approaches with a shallow box in his grasp. You swallow your bite, turn to face him. “What’ve you got there?”

The box is slid onto the counter next to your plate hesitantly, as if he regrets his actions as he’s doing them. Peering in, you see a blur of colour, stacks on stacks of rectangular paper filled with writing and questions and even a tips! section.

You pick up the first batch, all light blue, and flick through them, heart getting bigger and bigger with every word you read. And when you realise what they are, what Spencer’s done ­– for you – your heartrate has skyrocketed and the watch on your wrist is asking you if you’re okay.

“You made me flashcards?” You ask, in awe, again looking at the love of your life to find he’s already staring at you.

“I did,” He tells you, apprehensive and scared, already backtracking, “But, if you don’t think they’re useful, or-or you think I’m overstepping – I’m not trying to, I promise, I just thought…” He starts nervously shuffling and reshuffling some of his creation. “Flashcards are known to engage active recall and metacognition. Research consistently finds that applying metacognitive strategies tends to ingrain memories deeper into your knowledge, and that this kind of active recall retrieval practice leads to one-hundred and fifty percent better retention than passive studying, so…”

Your hands have a mind of their own, pulling what feels like an endless amount of cards out and turning them in your hands, from the questions on the front to the answers on the back, the ones with hints and advice and there’s several with doodles that are so Spencer you hold them to your chest. You’re so enamoured by this man that is still rambling and bumbling because he takes your silence as distaste.

“I just- I hate seeing you so stressed, so I made these. You don’t have to use them, of course. They’re not even that great. It’s not that I don’t think you’re capable, you’re beyond capable, or that your methods don’t work- Just, personally, I love flashcards. I used them all the time when studying, even though I didn’t really need them, so perhaps a change of medium would do you good-“

A warm hand on his own that keep fidgeting stops him mid-stream of consciousness.

“Thank you,” You say, earnestly, “Really. These are lovely.” You leap from your seat, wrapping Spencer in warmth and love and care, and he shivers when he feels your hot breath on his ear when you repeat your thanks again and again.

When he pulls you even closer, so your torso curves into his own, you feel the lightest you have in weeks. You’re in the arms of the man you love, who knows you love him too and you know loves you so much – enough to spend several nights reading your cursed textbooks so he could create something that might help – and now you’re confident that you can do it. With the help of Spencer and his lovingly hand-made flashcards, you can do it.

And if, somehow, it goes awry, that’s okay too. Because you’ll still have Spencer, your number one fan, who will be there to comfort you and advise you in any way he can. He’ll never let you doubt yourself, never allow a self-deprecating joke if he can help it, because if he has to, he’ll love and support you enough for the both of you until you can do it yourself.

The world feels a little brighter, your breaths feel a little lighter, all because of Spencer. So you kiss him, murmur love against his lips, and get ready to take on whatever dares to come your way.

+++

tags: @pinkdiamond1016 @bluerose512 @andreasworlsboring101 @roses-and-grasses @ta-ka-shi-ma @ogmilkis @chiffonchronicles @rexorangecouny @unmistakablyunknown @goofygubler14 @gublertoon @averyhotchner @wheeledup @shadyladyperfection @joodeduarte @calm-and-doctor @

[karasimpno]

Sunlight || Kita x Reader

“It's not about doing a lot of things, it's about being intentional about everything you do“ kita swooping in to make you set up a routine to escape d e p r e s s i o n lol I had to get undepressed before I could write this

contains: discussion of depression obviously, reader’s a little mean, kita is...kita and just wants the best for you

“Babe?” you hear the soft tone call out through the hallway.

You had heard the jingle of keys in the lock and the opening and closing of the front door but not a single muscle in your body can be willed to rouse at the moment.

You blink slowly instead.

Maybe the distant, periodic buzzing from your phone on the opposite side of your bed over the last few hours could explain the entrance of the former volleyball captain. A head of silvery white hair with traces of black appears in the doorway. Your eyes flick over your boyfriend’s neatly combed hair but avoid the molten irises you can’t bear to look at right now. Your eyes return to the nondescript blank wall adjacent where you lay on your side.

Every thought hurts. Including the most painful one—you don’t want him here right now. You can hardly focus your mind enough to watch as Kita silently treads over to the edge of the mattress. If your mind was anywhere else, you’d be irritated at him seeing you like this. But you can’t find it in yourself to care.

“Hey,” he whispers, gently but with firmness, now seated in the hollow carved out by your legs. You blink. “You have to get up,” he tells you.

Silence. His voice grows more stern and—is that worry in his voice? God, this is exactly why you don’t want him here right now.

“I haven’t heard from you in three days,“ he says simply. You inhale and you know he’s right. And of course you feel bad for it on top of everything. You apathetically reach out a hand to him, the brushing of the sides of your fingers against his outer thigh as close to an apology as you can muster right now.

Distantly, you feel yourself wanting to cry. Kita—loving Kita, caring Kita, perfect Kita—is the last person you want to be judging you right now. And he’s not judging you, not really. He’s only here because he loves you. But your mind won’t see that and your body doesn’t respond.

“What are you doing here?” is all you can manage. No “I’m sorry,” no “thank you,” no “you’re right and I know you just want what’s best.” None of the thoughts that would be pouring from your mouth if you weren’t so depressed.

“You have to get up,” your boyfriend repeats as your mind fights against the acknowledgment of how well he understands your current state, how intimately he knows you.

Sensation growing ever so slightly in your body, you feel the bed shift as Kita removes his weight from it. You hear the shinking of blinds and growl out a “fuck you” when bright midday sun invades your cave of solitude. It comes out harsher than you mean it to and the rational part of your brain wishes you could take it back, but Kita doesn’t acknowledge it as he swoops back around to the head of your bed, dropping into a low squat directly in your line of sight.

The golden irises you had been fixedly ignoring meet yours, unavoidable, and you feel your jaw tense. There’s so much intensity to them and it jolts a small stirring into your central nervous system.

He doesn’t even say anything, but you begin wiggling your toes, shifting slightly on the bed as the warmth from the sun begins to grow uncomfortable. You sigh and roll over onto your back, unable to maintain the borderline-painful eye contact any longer.

“I’m going to go make you some breakfast. Get dressed and meet me in the kitchen,” Kita states. It’s not a request. 

You don’t even have the energy to groan as your boyfriend noiselessly rises to his full height and pads out of the room. Your chest feels like it might collapse in on itself as you watch him go—your ever-collected, always-caring boyfriend.

Shin... you find yourself thinking, and you’re impressed when the thought of his love and kindness slightly overpowers the wave of guilt that usually rises with it. You still feel dead inside and the thought of food isn’t very interesting to you, but you kick one leg, then the other, out from underneath the covers.

Sighing, you push yourself up, your head somehow feeling completely empty and like lead at the same time. Propping yourself up with your arms, you allow your mind to catch up with your body. You hear a gentle rustling of metal emanating from the kitchen. Shinsuke’s presence in your space is enough to raise you to your feet.

Standing sucks, and you promptly avoid the frizzy-haired, disheveled reflection of yourself in the mirror opposite your bed. It feels stupid to change out of the sweats you’re wearing into new sweats, but you begin stripping nonetheless, a part of you afraid of facing Shinsuke’s eyes if you were to ignore him.

You take a long moment to pull out a comfortable pair of sweatpants and throw on an old but cherished shirt. The slump of your shoulders hurts your neck but pulling them back would hurt more. You inhale heavily and lean against your dresser, watching the rays of sun filter through your bedroom. Your mind wanders as you get lost in the flecks of dust illuminated by the beams of light that have begun crawling across your floor towards the edge of your bed. You don’t remember the last time you left this room; the last few days have felt like a blur. Your body still has no desire to cooperate. And cooperate with what? you wouldn’t even be out of bed if it weren’t for....

The smell of Shinsuke’s cooking has begun to waft down the hallway and into your room. It smells delicious. But you’re not sure if you’ll be able to eat. Sighing, you shuffle slowly out of your bedroom and pad down the hallway to the kitchen. Your eyes are unfocused but as the sound of sizzling grows louder, you stop in the doorway to watch Shinsuke cook. He doesn’t look up at you, for which you are grateful, though you know he knows you’re there. You know he loves you, even looking how you do now, but seeing someone cook for you in your own home warms your heart just the tiniest bit, and you’d rather watch him unobserved.

Quietly, you make your way to the kitchen table as Kita pulls out two plates. You grimace - though unsure of what time it is, you’re certain Shinsuke has already eaten. He always eats at the same time. But you’re also certain that he must know that it would be even harder on you and make you even guiltier if he were to only cook something for you and watch while you eat. Instead, he plates one of your favorite meals on two dishes and sets one gently in front of you as he takes a seat opposite.

It is quiet.

You love Shinsuke and the silence is not uncomfortable. You feel him gazing at your face and you sigh, reluctantly bringing your tired eyes up to meet his. Their honeyed gold hue is warm, not incisive, and you feel safe. He extends his arm onto the table, palm up, eyes not leaving yours. You inhale and instinctually put your hand in his, which he quickly wraps his fingers around in a comfortable hold. He doesn’t say anything, only maintains your gaze and sighs as though seeing you in this state is painful for him but he loves you nonetheless. That much is clear, and you grow a little flustered under his gaze, cracking a slight smile at his apparent adoration, to which he responds with a squeeze of your hand before releasing it and picking up his fork.

You swallow and pick up your own, bolstered slightly by his presence. Maybe a few bites... you convince yourself and indulge in a forkful. It’s delicious, of course. 

After a few moments of enjoying the meal, Kita breaks the comfortable silence. 

“I want to help you come up with some things you can do every day so you don’t sink down into despair like this,” his words are precise but his tone is nothing but loving. All he wants is to help, and you know that. “Does that sound like something we could do together?”

You swallow the bite of food in your mouth and put your fork down, clearing your throat uncomfortably as you avoid his piercing gaze, gazing absently out the window. Feeling your distance, Shinsuke extends his hand to you again. And you take it, again, as you know you always will. You clear your throat once more and pause for a moment before answering.

“Yes. That is something we could do,” you feel him smile from across the table. He just wants to help. “But I can’t do everything you do,” you glance at his face, his brows furrow. 

“Shin, I see you and you’re like...this perfect example of routine and consistency. It’s incredible and I wish I could be like that but I just can’t -”

“Hey, hey, hey,” he interrupts softly, in that gentle but assertive way of his. “I’m not asking you to be more like me. Not at all. It’s just that when you have a routine, you have things you can fall back on. Things that keep you from not being able to get back up. Does that make sense?”

“Yes,” you think for a moment. “But I just...see your routine and...” you clear your throat again. “I could barely get out of bed today,” you admit, self-frustration and depression clawing at your chest in turn. “I haven’t been able to shower in days. I can’t do much more than that, like you do.” 

“So that’s where we’ll start,” Kita asserts, fervently. “It's not about doing a lot of things, it's about being intentional about everything you do,” his eyes are gentle but more incisive than they have been all day, like he’s looking right through to the heart behind your eyes. He grips your hand a little tighter.

“Does that sound okay?” he asks. Feeling his hand in yours you blink slowly and look deeper into the eyes so desperately seeking yours.

“Okay,” you whisper. He smiles, and it’s the most beautiful thing in the world.

“Okay.”

karasimpno masterlist

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[thegreatestofheck]

Only One [S. Snape]

part two of “The Other Her” 

warnings - mentions of death, angst mostly pairings - severus snape x reader synopsis - You return to Hogwarts years later to watch your son’s Quidditch match, only to find yourself a little bit in over your head.  a/n - So, this really didn’t end up the way I expected it. But, I had one (1) person ask for this, so I delivered. Thank you to @palegoopbearlight for being so encouraging. It really inspired me to work hard and produce something good, so I hope this is sufficient! It’s long lol. Also, not a song fic so I hope that isn’t too big of a deal? 

***

You never expected to find yourself back at Hogwarts after you graduated. But, there you were, standing in the courtyard and staring up at the large doors that would lead you back into the place of memories. They weighed in your shoulders like pounds of brick and you couldn’t shake them off.

A red haired girl ran past you and you found yourself almost calling out Lily’s name before you stopped yourself. Her name rested on the tip of your tongue like poison. 14 years ago, Lily Evans and James Potter were murdered by Voldemort, leaving their son behind. You heart still ached thinking about it. He was here, the boy that Lily loved so deeply. Part of you wanted to see him, just to see her one last time. Another part hoped you could avoid him completely so you wouldn’t feel the guilt of hating her for so long.

“Mama!” A boy cried out from beside you. Putting off your memories to greet your son, you turned to him with a smile. Perfectly painted lips pulled into a grin, you ran to meet him.

“I’m so glad you came,” he said, burying his face in your robes. You pulled back and ruffled his hair with your hand.

“I wouldn’t miss your first Quidditch match for the world,” you told him, making him grin wider. “Your father would be so proud.”

His smile wavered but he straightened his back and lifted his chin to show you that he would make the both of you proud today.

“I have to go,” he said. Already dressed in his blue and bronze quidditch gear, you could see the excitement in his eyes. “Catch you out there?”

“Of course, love.”

You watched him run away, not thinking you could possibly be any prouder.

“y/n,” an woman’s voice said near you. You turned to find Minerva McGonagall standing there. “It’s nice to see you again.”

“You as well, Professor.” You stepped forward to embrace her with a smile.

“It’s been too long. Are you hear for the game?”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“There is no need for such formalities,” McGonagall said with a simple wave of her hand. “Have you eaten?”

“Not yet. I’ve only just arrived.”

“Come. I’ll get you some food from the kitchens.”

You tried to protest, but if your seven years at Hogwarts had taught you anything, it was that McGonagall was not one argue with.

“Your son is exceptional at Transfiguration,” McGonagall told you as you walked beside her. “And Flitwick often boasts about him.”

You tried to cover a smile.

“He takes after his father.”

McGonagall fell silent.

“y/n, I wanted to say-“

You turned the corner and found yourself face first in the dark cloaks of a man.

“Pardon!” You said, stepping back before seeing who it was.

“Severus,” McGonagall said, her lips flattening into a thin line. Your heart sky rocketed into your chest at the sight of your old friend. It took him a few moments to recognize you. It was true that you had grown up a lot since graduating and you had seen him very little so you weren’t surprised.

“y/n.” His voice was deeper than you remembered, more monotone. There used to be a certain way he said your name that gave you butterflies. His eyes widened at the sight of you and you felt yourself smile.

“Sev,” you said, the old nickname coming to you so easily.

“What are you doing here?” His eyes narrowed again as he donned the mask that you could tell he worked so hard to build. All the confidence you had gained in the 13 years since you graduated evaporated and you found yourself back in the body of the timid student who wanted nothing more than to make her feel friends happy.

“I’m here to see my son play his first Quidditch match,” you said, feeling that blossom of pride burst again in your chest. Severus looked taken aback by your mention of your son, though you were unsure why. He talked about his “Professor Snape” (which was still a struggle for you to get used to) all the time in his letters.

“It’s against Slytherin today,” he drawled. You nodded your head, the air around you turning stale.

“I hear you’re the head of Slytherin house.”

“Yes.”

“I never saw that one coming when we were kids.”

Severus stiffened at the mention of your childhood, even though you had hoped that it would make him relax. He screwed his mouth shut and there was an awkward moment of silence.

“We’ll see you at the game, Severus,” McGonagall said, trying to move you forward.

“Yes,” was all he said in response.

“It was, uh, good to see you,” you told him and he nodded his head once. With a flourish of his cloak, he walked on.

“You two were close once,” McGonagall said.

“Once,” you replied simply.

“Whatever happened?” It was strange, this almost friendly relationship that had developed between you and your former teacher. Part of you felt like there was something she was hiding up her sleeve. Still, you had been aching to talk about it for years. Long buried emotions came to the forefront of your mind and your mouth started speaking before you could stop yourself. 

“It’s...it’s a long story.”

***

You remembered the fight that Sev and Lily had in your fifth year. You remembered hearing that cruel word cross his lips, spat like venom in her direction as she tried to defend him. It played like one of those moving pictures in your mind as you lay in bed that night. 

Everything was about to change once again. 

There had been some semblance of normalcy after you told Sev you loved him and you reveled in it. But after what he said to Lily, you knew there was no hope for going back. 

And you were right. 

Lily wouldn’t even look at him. No one else would either. Whispers followed to two of you wherever you went. Rumors started to spread, no doubt started by the self proclaimed “Marauders”. The more time you spent with Sev, the more you were at the center of these rumors. 

What little popularity you had before was gone and soon Sev was the only person who would even look in your direction. 

But then he left you too. 

He started to pull away, slowly and then all at once. Where you would once spend meals with him, he was now sitting with his own new friends, a certain group of Slytherins who were well known for their love of the Dark Arts and bullying others. 

It hurt you to the core to watch Sev make new friends that weren’t you. He smiled less, laughed less, and you couldn’t help but wander why he would be happier with them than with you. Then you didn’t even care about his love romantically, you only just missed the warmth of his friendship. 

As he drifted away, you found yourself alone. At one point, you tried to wave at Lily in the halls but her friends hurried away. Still, you couldn’t help but think that you saw a small smile creep up her lips. 

Then you met him. The boy who would steal your heart and refuse to give it back. His name was Cygnus Halcyon.

It was strange, how you and became friends. He found you in a corner of a hidden corridor one day, trying desperately to keep your crying to a minimum. He talked to you, quietly trying to reassure you that everything would be okay, even if he couldn’t really understand what was wrong through your incoherent sobs. 

And from that day on, he was your friend. You were suspicious of him at first, wondering why he even cared to talk to you in the first place. But he was persistent. No matter how hard you tried to push him away, he kept coming back. Even when he ditched the others to come sit with you at meals, part of you hoped that Sev would see and get so unbearably jealous like you had been of him and Lily that he would come over, but he never did. 

Eventually, you stopped thinking about Severus and started to actually see Cygnus sitting there in front of you. 

You weren’t entirely sure how it happened, but you found yourself in love with him one day. It wasn’t anything big or uncomfortable or dramatic. One day, you just felt it, out of the blue and completely comfortable. You kept it to yourself. You had been in this position before and you refused to let history repeat itself. 

He kissed you first, one day just sitting out by the Black Lake. 

“Why did you do that?” You asked him, eyes wide with shock. He laughed, but not in a mean way. 

“You know I love you, right?” 

You didn’t actually know that. You hadn’t even considered it a possibility. 

“I...I didn’t think...you can’t-” 

And then he kissed you again, just so that you would be sure that he was telling you the truth. 

It wasn’t until after graduation that you found out you were pregnant. You knew it was his, of course, there was no one else. 

You had your son at 18, too young, your parents said. But neither you or Cygnus cared as you stared down at the face of the baby boy the two of you loved so deeply. 

***

“He died not shortly after that,” you said, scowling to yourself ever so slightly as you watched a few of the students chase each other through the halls right past you and McGonagall. 

“I heard about Mister Halcyon’s death. I am sorry for your loss,” she said and you turned to look at her with the best smile you could muster. “Ah! It looks like we’ve finally arrived at the kitchens.” 

“Wonderful,” you said with a wider smile. “I’m starved.” 

***

Your cheers of joy could have been heard from the castle as the golden snitch was caught and Ravenclaw won the game. Allyn, who served as one of the chasers, turned to look at you with the widest grin on his face that you had ever seen. If you could snatch him right out of the air and envelope him in the biggest hug, you would have. Unfortunately, he had to go meet with his team first. 

“Your son is good,” McGonagall said from beside you with a smile. “Wish he was in Gryffindor.” 

“Oh, please, from what I’ve heard, your team is going rather well with Harry Potter as the Seeker.” 

You could have sworn you saw the tips of her cheeks tint pink. 

“It is true, he is exceptional. I am afraid, however, with the new Inquisitor, he may very well get himself kicked off of the team before we even get to play our first game.” 

Of course, you had heard all about Dolores Umbridge from Allyn, who sent you a letter almost as soon as the opening feast had begun. You sighed at the mention of her name. 

“I was actually wondering if you wouldn’t mind coming back to the school to take up a teaching position for a while,” McGonagall said as everyone in the stands started to rise. You were taken aback, but not totally surprised. McGonagall had been spending an awful amount of time talking to you today, especially for a teacher you had barely interacted with during school. 

“What do you mean?” 

“Well, it’s not a teaching position exactly. Madam Pince has been having some troubles in the library keeping everything under control. You spent so much of your time in the library during your time here I was hoping-” 

“I’ll do it,” you said quickly, starting to smile. “I’ll take the position.” 

McGonagall gave a wiry smile. 

“Thank you. How soon can you move in?” 

***

“Mama!” 

You raced forward as Allyn ran out from the Quidditch tent. Even at 14, he didn’t seem to care that the others were watching him run into the arms of his mama. Some of them snickered as she brought him into a tight hug. 

“Did you see all the goals I made?” He asked excitedly. You nodded your head as quickly as you could. 

“Of course! You were killer out there, little man.” 

“Do you think Dad was watching?” His grin was unsurpassable. You nodded your head as your throat ran dry. 

“Yes, of course he was,” you told him, trying to keep your voice from breaking. You leaned down just enough to look Allyn in the eyes. “And you is so proud of you. Almost as proud as I am.” 

Allyn hugged you one more time, his squeeze a little more firm than before. 

“Hey, Halcyon!” One of the players from the tent called. “You coming?” 

“Yeah, hold on!” Allyn turned back to you with the widest grin. “Everyone’s going out to eat at Hogsmeade.” 

“Go, have fun. I’ll be here when you get back.” 

Allyn tilted his head to the side. 

“What do you mean?” 

“McGonagall has asked me to take up a position working here,” you told your son with a sly smile. The grin on his face grew even wider, if that was possible. “You’re going to be seeing a lot more of me.” 

***

You somehow managed to stay out of Severus’ path long for the first few weeks while working at Hogwarts. You fell into the same pattern and rhythm that you had in your last two years of school, practically hiding from him so you wouldn’t have to look him in the eyes. It seemed like nothing had changed. 

You were surprised to find him in the library one day. Your first instinct was to hide behind one of the bookshelves. 

“Are you hiding from Professor Snape?” A student next to you asked. You turned quickly to find yourself staring down at Neville Longbottom. “I used to be afraid of him too.” 

You wanted to tell the fifteen year old boy that you weren’t afraid of Professor Snape, that you just had no desire to talk to him at that given time. Instead, you swallowed your pride and looked back over at your old friend. 

“How did you overcome it, Mister Longbottom?” You asked him. He looked up at you and almost smiled.

“I’ve spent too much of my life being afraid. I’m trying to make my parents proud.” 

You smiled and a warmth blossomed in your chest. 

“I’m sure they are very proud of you, Mister Longbottom.” There was a glassiness to his eyes as he glanced back down at his Herbology textbook. “And if it means anything at all, I’m very proud of you, too.” 

He smiled up at you then. 

“It means a great deal. Thank you.” 

Walking back to your chambers that night, you knew that you couldn’t avoid Severus any longer. He was your coworker now, your fellow employee. You weren’t sure that Dumbledore would take all too kindly to two members of his staff refusing to communicate. 

You sought him out the next morning, bristling with courage. You saw a lot of yourself in Neville. If he could overcome his fears, then so could you. 

“y/n,” Severus said when you walked into the dungeon where his potions class was. It was clear by the few remaining students that a class had just ended. You felt a twinge of fear strike your heart, but you pushed past it. 

“Hello, Severus,” you said. The last few students walked around you and you stepped forward to meet your old friend. He stiffened as you approached and you took that to mean you had gone far enough. 

“What do you want?” He asked. You cleared your throat. 

“We work together now,” you said and then shook your head. “I should say, I know we have a past...erm...we were friends once....I mean, we are still friends if you want to be friends still, but I just wanted to say....”

Pausing, you closed your eyes and tried to imagine Cygnus there beside you, whispering words of comfort in your ear. He was a steady ground and some place stable to stand. He never judged you for stumbling over your words or starting a sentence over three times in a row. If he was there beside you, you could do anything. 

When you opened your eyes again, Severus’ face was just as unreadable as it had been before. But you were no longer afraid. 

“I don’t want there to be any ill will or bad blood between us. We’re working together now and I would like that work relationship to be one of mutual respect. You’ve lived your life and I’ve lived mine. But we’re here now and it’s nothing like when we were kids. I would appreciate a having a professional relationship with you, Professor Snape.” When you finished, you could almost hear Cygnus mutter a congratulations. 

You almost smiled to yourself. Severus’ face never even twitched. 

“You don’t have to call me Professor Snape,” was all he said in response. “Severus is fine.” 

That sense of pride that had burned in your chest twisted and became like a heavy weight. Severus...almost like you were friends again. You were partially grateful that it seemed as if he had forgotten how to smile. You always loved his smile. 

All you could do was nod your head before turning to leave swiftly. 

You barely made it back to your chambers before you started to cry. Maybe it was the relief from the weight you had been carrying around your shoulders for the last few weeks that made you break down, but you had a feeling that it was standing in front of Severus again and feeling like you barely knew him. 

You tried to remind yourself as your tears continued to run from your eyes that Severus had long ago stopped being your friend and it had been his choice, not yours. He was the one who walked away, not you. 

And he would have to live with it.

***

Severus got his dream job the next year. You had spent almost your entire first year on the job trying very hard not to punch Dolores Umbridge in the throat that you had almost forgotten that it was always DADA that Snape had wanted to teach. But there was something off that year, a chill in the air. 

“You’ve gotta be careful, Allyn,” you told your son one day while the two of you were picnicking by the Black Lake. “You can feel the shifts in the wind, right?” 

Allyn nodded his head. 

“It feels...darker than last year,” he said, looking up at the sky. You nodded slowly. 

“But everything will be alright,” you told him with a smile. 

“How can you be so sure?” 

“I can be so sure because everything will be fine as long as I have you with me and nothing bad is ever going to happen to you.”

Allyn smiled up at you, a twinkle in his eye. He shifted his gaze out to the water. 

“Did you come here with Dad?” he asked. You breathed in deeply through your nose and followed his line of sight. 

“Yes. We came out here often.” 

“I miss him.” 

“I do, too.” Leaning over, you pressed a kiss to the top of Allyn’s head. 

The two of you sat blissfully in silence, both picturing Cygnus there with you. It was a happy thought. 

Later that day, you were in your chambers getting ready for bed when a hurried knock came to your door. 

Scowling, you walked over, part of you fearing that it was Allyn. But when you threw your door wide open, you were more than surprised to see who was on the other side. 

“Severus.” 

He looked a mess. Dishelved, paler than usual, his eyes wide with fear. He breathed heavily, leaning one hand up against your doorframe as if it was the only thing keeping him upright. 

“Severus, what’s-” 

“Can I come in?” He asked. His monotonous façade was dropped and you heard the fear in his voice, fear and worry. 

“Of course.” You stepped out of the way and let him inside. He crossed the room before you even had the chance to close your door, leaning his back up against your far wall. “Please, tell me what’s happened.” 

He pressed his lips together, as if physically keeping a secret inside his mouth. Your heart thrummed in your chest. Only once before had you ever seen him so out of state and that was the night Lily died. He came to your house to deliver the news, but he ended up crying on your bathroom floor instead. That had been the last time you saw him before coming to work at Hogwarts and here you were again in a similar situation. 

“I can’t,” he said finally, shaking his head. “No, I can’t.”

“Okay. That’s okay.” You stepped toward him with one raised hand. As slow as your movements were, he still flinched away. “You’re okay, Sev. You’re safe in here.” 

He shut his eyes, squeezing them as tight as he could as he leaned his head against the wall. He slowly slid to the ground, knees pressed up against his chest as he rested his face in his arms. 

You were frozen where you were. A thousand questions rattled through your brain that you knew would never be answered. You looked at him more carefully and on one of his arms you could see a series of scars that were unmistakable. The Unbreakable Vow. 

“Oh, Sev,” you breathed, your heart going suddenly still. What have you done? 

At the sound of your voice, he started to cry. It was such a shocking sound that for a few moments, you didn’t even realize that was what was happening. And the few moments after that, you weren’t entirely sure what to do. 

But then you reminded yourself that the crying man before you was your friend. And maybe you weren’t great with talking to people and maybe your social skills weren’t the best, but if there was one thing you were good at, it was taking care of the few friends you had. 

Pushing past whatever roadblock kept you from comforting him, you stepped forward, quiet on your toes so not to startle him. He flinched again as you slowly lowered yourself to the ground next to him. Moving as slowly as you could so you didn’t startle him away, you slowly put your arms around him. One arm behind his neck and the other wrapped around his front so you could rest your palm against the side of his head. 

He tensed against your touch for the first couple of seconds, but the he softened and then he collapsed, turning in toward you. He grabbed your arm for dear life, his fists stuffed full of your long sleeves. His tear stricken face was pressed to your chest, your chin resting on the top of his head as he cried. It broke your heart to hear such a closed down man cry the way he was. Even more so, it killed you to know that your best friend was suffering and there wasn’t a single thing you could do about it. 

“Shh,” you whispered gently, holding him as tight as you could. “You are safe, Sev. I’m here. I’m here.” 

Dumbledore was killed two months later. 

He had never been your favorite person, but seeing his lifeless body lay motionless on the hard stone ground sent chills down your spine. It didn’t help that there had just been Death Eaters storming the castle, Severus as their head. 

You weren’t sure what broke your heart more; the fact that he had been working with the Death Eaters all this time and put your son in danger or the fact that he had the chance to kill you but he didn’t. 

Allyn was sobbing as you held onto him from behind. Almost the entire school stood around their headmaster’s body, a painful silence hung over all of them. Without Dumbledore, it seemed like the fight against Voldemort would be a vain one. 

The world was no longer safe and there was no where to take your son away. Either Voldemort had to die or Allyn could never live in peace again. And for you, only one of those was an option. 

***

You gasped, jumping to the side as a spell flew overhead. Taking barely any time to recover from your fall, you fired a return spell at the Death Eater in front of you. 

You breathed in deeply through your nose, hoping to stifle the burning fear in your chest. This was a different kind of fear than you were used to. This was deeper, immediate, like gliding over a smooth surface. You were mortified, but there was absolutely no time to waste in being afraid. 

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught sight of the three children who had done the most for this school in the past seven years. Harry, Ron, and Hermione were scurrying across the grounds, heading toward to boat dock. You glanced back at the castle, knowing full well that the battle was raging heavily there and they could use every wand they could get. But you also knew that if those three were going somewhere, it was important. 

And you weren’t going to leave them alone. 

You supposed you were a bit braver knowing that Allyn was safe and far from here. He had protested wildly when you demanded that he go home, but you didn’t care how loudly he screamed. There was no way you were going to lose him to the same people who killed his father. As long as he was safe from here, you would die fighting Voldemort’s army if that was what it took. 

You hurried after the kids, keeping yourself at a safe distance away so you didn’t startle them. When they reached the boat house, you ducked behind a tree. There were voices inside the building. One was definitely the raspy voice of Voldemort. The other was just as easy to place. 

“Severus,” you whispered to yourself. Your heart panged painfully. If this past year with him as headmaster had taught you anything, it was that he was no longer the boy you once loved. He had grown up and made all the wrong choices. But you had grown up too. 

And then your heard the hiss of a snake and the sickening sound of a body hitting loose glass window panes. You covered your mouth with your hand to keep yourself from gasping too loudly. You knew before you even came from out behind the tree what had happened. 

Almost instantly, hot tears started to slide down your cheeks. You could hear Voldemort disapparate and as soon as he was gone, you pushed yourself out from behind the tree and ran toward the children. They snapped their heads toward you, wands raised, and you put your hands up. 

It took them a few seconds to recognize you, but once they did, they relaxed. 

“Professor Snape-” Miss Granger started, her face blanched from fear. You nodded your head. 

Mister Potter was the first one to move. He stood from where he was, his legs shaking as he rose. He moved toward the door like he was walking on glass. You supposed, as the adult, you should be the first to go inside, but you couldn’t bring yourself to move. Not until Harry was all the way inside. 

The boathouse smelled like algae. That stench was the only thing you could think about when you first entered. Staring down at Severus as he lay bleeding on the ground, all you could do was wonder why, with all the magic in the world, they couldn’t make the boathouse smell better. 

Ron kept a tight arm wrapped around Hermione by the door while you and Harry walked toward Severus on the ground. 

“Professor,” Harry said. Severus head lolled to the side and you could see the wide, bleeding gash on his neck. Your lips trembled as you lowered yourself slowly to the ground on the other side. The stone floor was cold, even through your pants. Severus didn’t even look at you. 

Silver tears rolled from his eyes, but it was nothing like that night the year before. These were tears of a tired man in pain, ready to let go. 

“Take them,” he said to Harry, his voice hoarse. “Take them!”

“Hermione, a vial?” Harry turned back toward his friend. 

“Here,” you said, pulling a vial out the pocket of your cloak. You couldn’t remember why you had put it there, but you were glad you did. Harry took it, his hands shaking, and dipped the rim underneath Severus’ tears, collecting them at the bottom. 

You were lost. The tears of a dying man meant nothing to you, but Severus seemed to relax once Harry had them in his possession. He took in a shuddering breath and you reached out to grab his hand. Still, he looked at Harry, who held his gaze. 

“You have your mother’s eyes,” Severus said. You pushed down a sob. Even with his dying breath, he still thought of her. You hung your head so the children wouldn’t see you crying. 

Severus breathed in another shaking breath and squeezed your hand as he let it out. You looked back up at him, but that was it. 

He was gone. 

***

You were still numb when the battle was over. It was all a blur to you, what happened after Severus died. Harry died but then he wasn’t dead, more fighting. You could barely hear the screams over the buzzing in your ears. Your mind was a blank, banking completely on muscle memory to keep you alive. 

But once it was all over, that numbness didn’t fade. You sat with Madam Pince in the Great Hall. It seemed smaller now. You weren’t sure why. 

Across from you, Remus Lupin and his new wife lay with their hands clasped together. That made you the last one. You were the only one left. Not even that thought produced a single tear. 

“Miss Halcyon?” 

You looked up to find Neville Longbottom standing in front of you and you somehow managed to smile. He had cut the head off the snake that sat on Voldemort’s shoulders. it was quite the spectacle. 

“Harry’s looking for you,” he said. Your smile turned into a scowl and you pushed yourself onto your feet. 

“For me?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Why?”

“Won’t say, but he’s in Dumbledore’s Office.” 

You nodded your head and took a step forward. Before you walked past the boy, you placed your hand on his shoulder. 

“You have made your parents very proud, Mister Longbottom,” you told him. His cheeks turned red, but he nodded anyway. 

“And you’ve made your son proud, Miss Halcyon.” You were going to ask him what he meant, but he gave you no time to do so. “Harry. Dumbledore’s Office.” 

“Right. Be safe, Neville.” 

“The war’s over.” 

“Still. Be safe.” 

“Will do, Miss H.” 

He turned away from you then, sitting in the place you had just been. That left you to go find Harry. 

It was a horrible thing, to walk through the castle when it was full of so much destruction. Nearly every corridor was destroyed to some degree. Large slabs of cement littered the ground. Blood splattered here and there. It was impossible to determine if the blood was from someone on your side or someone on Voldemort’s. Either way, you felt your stomach curdle at the sight of it. 

Most of the bodies had been cleared at that point, but some still lay around here and there. You tried to ignore them. 

You weren’t sure if you should knock on the door to Dumbledore’s office or if you should just go in. You decided that you were an adult and knocking wasn’t required when both men who once worked in that office were now dead. 

You pushed your way inside. 

Harry was just sitting there on the stairs, the same look of numbness on his face that you imagined was on yours. When he saw you, he looked up and stood. 

“Neville said you wanted to see me,” you said, pulling on the edges of your sleeves. The edges were singed and still hot from someone setting your cloak on fire. 

“I need to show you something,” he said, taking a few steps toward you. “Or, I guess, Professor Snape does.” 

You tilted your head to the side, eyebrows pinched together. 

“I don’t understand.” 

“You will.” 

He beckoned you over to a round bowl floating in the middle of the room. 

“What is this?” 

“A pensive. It shows you memories.” 

You remembered the tears that Harry had collected. They hadn’t been tears at all. They were Severus’ memories. 

“He showed me what I needed to see to defeat Voldemort, but I think he left something for you, too.” 

You shook your head slowly, tears gathering in your eyes like a storm. 

“I don’t want to see his memories.” 

“I think you need to.” 

You look at the water bowl, rolling your lower lip between your teeth. You looked back at Harry then and finally saw what Severus was talking about. He really did have Lily’s eyes. 

“Your mother and I, we were friends, you know,” you said. Harry almost smiled. 

“Yeah, I know.” 

“I miss her very much,” you told him. “Very much.”

Harry said nothing and you took that to mean that you had better get to surfing through Severus’ memories. 

When you placed your face in the bowl, you saw all the same things Harry did. You saw how Severus met Lily, all the time they spent together. You watched how he fell in love with her and how she fell in love with James. You watched yourself on the sidelines of these memories, never speaking, only there in passing. You watched him find her body, watched him as he went pleading with Dumbledore. You watched his horror as he discovered what Dumbledore’s plan for Harry was. 

You thought that was it. But then it seemed to start over. 

All the memories that had been so full of Lily were now full of you. You watched him laugh beside you at the Black Lake. You watched his little smile at you while you slept on one of your books. You had been studying for OWLs. You remembered that. You watched the two of you dancing horribly in one of the spare classrooms while the rest of the school was partying in the Great Hall one Halloween night. You watched as he held you in the darkness of your room, your parents screaming at each other downstairs. You watched as you stood between him and a spell shot his way by James Potter in third year. 

And then you saw him pull away from you at the end of fifth year. He watched on as you and Cygnus grew closer and anger bubbled in your chest. It wasn’t your anger though, it was his. 

“Why did you do it?” You wondered as you watched on. “Why did you push me away?” 

He seemed to have the answer for you. 

Those friends he had, the ones who all turned out to be Death Eaters. You watched them mock you and so many others, joking about how they would torture and hurt you. How, as Voldemort grew more powerful, people like you would be rid of. 

But once he had separated ties with you completely, your name was no longer brought up. They mocked and made fun of and threatened others, but not you, never you. 

As long as Severus was away from you, you were safe. 

You watched the night he came to your house after Lily died. Cygnus was still alive at that point, he was the one who opened the door. Hearing those heart wrenching sobs from Severus broke your heart all over again. 

You watched the day you first came back to Hogwarts. You saw yourself through his eyes. 

You watched the scene that sent him to your door crying. How the poor Malfoy boy was being forced to kill Dumbledore, but Severus knew he wouldn’t have the strength to do it. Severus knew that he would have to kill one of the only people he had ever trusted. 

The last thing you saw was Severus standing in front of the mirror. He was staring at himself, but he was looking at you. 

“If something happens to me, y/n, know that I...I am sorry. For everything.” 

For everything. Everything that he had just showed you. Everything that he had done. Everything that he was going to do. 

“Not all of this was for her,” he said. “Some of it was for you. You were the only one...the only one who stayed after it all. There is so much I wish to tell you, but I can’t. So, I just have one thing to say to you. Thank you.” 

There wasn’t even a lingering second before the memory disappeared. Your vision darkened, the murky water returning. 

You straightened your back, lifting your face from the bowl. Water trickled down your cheeks, but it wasn’t the water from the bowl. It was your tears. 

You ran your sleeve underneath your nose once before turning to face the empty room. Harry had left sometime while you were in the memories. Well enough, you thought. Better than him seeing you in such a mess. 

You left the office, leaving behind the last memories of your best friend. It was time to move on. He was gone. He had been gone for a very, very long time. 

“It’s time to move on.” 

“Mama!” 

You snapped your head to the side at the sound of Allyn’s voice. 

“Allyn?” Your voice broke. 

He was bolting toward you through one of the destroyed corridors, grinning. His face was covered in soot and dust and dirt, but he never looked so happy. His clothes were torn and singed like yours were. It didn’t take long for you to put two and two together. He had never left the battle. He had been here the whole time. 

But you had no time to be angry with him. Just at the sight of your son, your heart started to soar back to life. The numbness faded and you took one step forward and then another and another until you were running toward him just as quickly as he was running toward you. 

The two of you collided, holding onto each other for dear life. 

“You’re okay, you’re okay,” you whispered, more to yourself than to him. 

“It’s over,” he said when he pulled away. The sixteen year old boy in front of you was all you needed, you realized. Cygnus was gone, Severus was gone, Lily was gone, but you still had your son. As long as he was there, nothing else mattered. 

[zorkaya-moved]

19) one muse gets hurt trying to help the other which leads to an argument,  resulting in the one who was being protected to proclaim how much they care about the injured party.  / wait kalim & zar first (kind of) fight?

@jaxxmulti

This is a moment that’s been long in the making, the moment where the snow queen would finally grow like a beast she is to the one who was shining like the sun. The kindest of them all, the sweetest of them all, the most annoying of them all to Zarina personally. Gerda’s words echo in her mind once again, the accusations and the words that sound like prophecy now: you’ll forever be alone if you treat others this way. Then again, no one understood how she lived. No one understood the hell that she had to go through, from nothing to everything at such a young age. Even this, this protection that she had to hold onto to make sure that the current plan won’t go to shit. She already went so far, so ahead, so fucking far. From rags to riches, indeed, but it wasn’t enough. It wasn’t yet enough. This is why she felt that it was the time when something inside snapped, just one of the threads that held her self-control and her everything. Only one, but it was enough to show the appearance of a friendly bride to slip for that moment. 

Kalim always showed that he was afraid to make her mad, to make her upset, to do something she hated. Sadly, it was nigh impossible knowing her judgmental and her critical statue. She may not speak it out loud, but each move was criticized and judged inside her mind. Sometimes, she would lead him and guide him to do what she wanted so he would avoid making troubles for her. His safety meant the safety of her plan, but it seemed like he did not understand that trying to help her was the last thing she needed. It feels bitter and disgusting when she hears that he cares about her. Not because she despises Kalim himself, but because she despises the notion of such words without knowing everything. It feels fake, it feels forced, it feels so bleak and so unnecessary. They are to be wed, but does he really think that this mean he has to tell her this? Does he really care? As if. Her cynicism cannot accept this, he doesn’t know shit and it makes her even more irritated. 

“ If you do care, then why do you keep making everything harder? ” Zarina suddenly asks, breaking the silence as she finishes treating his injury. Her voice comes out sharp, cold, and much deeper almost like a growl. It’s enough to make the room go cold, the temperature dropping far more than anyone would like. It would feel dangerous, terrifying, stinging. Kalim would notice how his breathe would turn white when he would breathe out for that one moment, all until she would finish speaking. “ I’m trying to make this all work out. I’m trying to keep you uninjured for everyone’s sake. I told you countless times I do not need you... ” There’s a second of pause as she hurriedly finishes that thought, but the pre-pause is far more true to her. She doesn’t need him emotionally, but she does need him for other reasons. His life is of the highest value, the bargaining chip to her ascension. However, she doesn’t say it. She doesn’t mean it in these wording right now. “ ... to help me, to protect me. Do you think your father would approve of someone who cannot protect herself when his son is so carefree despite his knowledge and his status? ”

It comes off much sharper than anything she’s ever told him. It could be interpreted as ‘You’re useless’ but she doesn’t say it like that. However, the sharpness and the coldness of her tone might be taken as that. It’s rare for her to lose her cool like this, but it’s been one after another thing with Gerda and Kai appearing, with some of the plans getting disturbed, and now Kalim is being a nuisance in her eyes. He tries, but she told him several times not to overdo it. He did start to try and do things on his own, but does he not see where his knowledge ends and his burdensome weight on her begins? Perhaps, she gave him too much credit. It’s time to tug the strings. 

She sighs now, the cold in the room suddenly disappears as if never existed and Zarina looks up at Al-Asim with a troubled yet softer look. She must make him rely on her, want her to be by his side, to have him attached to her. Such is the best end of scenario. He must know she’s better, she knows a lot, and that she’s enough to keep him safe. 

Morozova apologizes to hide away her true nature and to alleviate some stress from him:

“ I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have spoken to you like that. I worry about you, too. You are always putting yourself behind everyone when you are a future ruler. You have so many people after you, ” her voice becomes softer as she controls the conversation yet again, reaching out with her hand to cup his cheek and gently caress his skin with her thumb. He must be controlled like a rabbit in a garden, well-fed and protected, served as a cute little pet with too much power thanks to his blood. 

“ Can I ask you... to let me protect you? ” To cage you, to chain you, to manipulate you, to let you remain my ‘king’ chess piece on this board. “ I don��t want you to get hurt for my well-being, it ... I will not lie, it does hurt my pride when I want to prove to you I’m strong enough to keep you safe when it’s just you and I. ” So you don’t get in my way, so you don’t fuck this up, so you don’t get used for your damn kind heart because I must be the one to capture this heart. “ Kalim, I... I need you to understand that if you get hurt, I will be in danger as well. ” He’s a kind-hearted young man, naturally he won’t listen if I say not to protect me but if I say that I will be in danger if he gets hurt? Surely, he’ll think it over to keep me safe in his own way. 

[curvingsunsets]

So This is The Fic I WroteAbout the Boys

idk what to call it but here it is

Quick warning before you read: parents fighting, implied homophobia, anything else I need to tag lmk

ALSO I listened to Jubilee Line by Wilbur Soot the entire time I was writing it 

I was also asked to tag @crybabyddl so here u go <3

Wasting your time

You're wasting mine

There was something in the air that night. Something that gave the boys a gentle switch of tone. A signal that they were the only family they’d need.

It wasn’t easy managing everything that he was going through. He’d barely been holding on to not only his grades, but the band and his social life. It wasn’t what he wanted to happen. He wanted a nice family dinner with his mom and dad. His dad just had to find out about his next gig. Tension grew around the table and it ended with a regretful “I hate you” spat into the living room.

The next hour was spent in his room. He couldn’t return to the scene, his mom’s gentle weeping could be heard through the hollow door of his room along with his dad’s attempt at reassurance. He stopped staring at the stars he stuck to his ceiling years ago and grabbed his bag. For once, he was thankful his room was on the first floor. He slipped out of his window and started the long, but calming walk to the only place he knew he could go to.  

~~~

Usually, it was easy for him to ignore the muffled screams through the walls of the house. Tonight was different, however. The insults his dad threw at his mom, who he supposedly loved, started to sting a little more than any other day.  He’d tried to muffle it out with a pillow over his ears, even tried humming to drown it out, but no luck. It was frustrating, having to be the only level-headed person in the house.

The longer he was alone with the fighting, the deeper he got into his own head. Whatever was going on outside that door couldn’t be love, he told himself time and time again. Yet, he never seemed to believe it. Just as he started getting trapped in his own head, a gut-wrenching curse was thrown from one parent to the other. That’s when he’d drawn the line. He pulled himself out of his own thoughts and unlocked the window, slipping out into the salty air.

~~~

The disapproving stares from his parents seemed to hit a little harder as he walked into the kitchen wearing the pink hoodie he knew they hated. He pretended not to hear the slur his dad muttered under his breath as he scanned the fridge. The word lingered in the air for a second longer than he was comfortable with. He’d settled for a bottle of water and escaped back into his room, avoiding the two pairs of eyes burning judgement into the back of his head.

He’d tried so hard to be “normal” for them. Until he realized that he was normal, and that they were just bigots. He laid in his bed with his headphones in, Whitney playing through the speakers quietly, afraid that they’d still hear her through the door. No matter how hard he tried, his mind drifted back to the disapproving looks that fell over his parent’s faces the day he’d come out to them. The clouding of his mind seemed to pull him away from his home and out of his window.

Hate to see you leaving

Fate worse than dying

Your city gave me asthma

That's why I'm fucking leaving

Your water gave me cancer

The pavement hurt my feelings

They’d all been suffocating in their own homes. The places they thought were supposed to be their safe spaces...yet they’d never felt truly safe there.

The cold air that hit his face was a gentle reminder of the tears that were slipping down his cheeks. As he pushed the pedals of his bike forward, he’d used the sleeve of his flannel to rid of the trails on his cheeks. His mind kept racing, still. The feeling of regret trickling in, but not deep enough to make him turn back. He’d pushed forward once again, letting go of the handlebars for a moment to simply exist in the calm.

~~~

The trail in the woods definitely wasn’t his favorite, but it helped him sift through his thoughts. The rustling of the trees provided almost a drone that kept him grounded. Of course, it wasn’t his prefered method of releasing stress, but it was the quickest route. So he pushed forward, picking a few leaves off the trees as he passed, tearing them apart so he could do something with his hands instead of picking at his cuticles until they bled.

~~~

The gentle breeze had drawn his thoughts away from the scowls and towards his safe space. He may not have been paying attention to where he was going, but he’d been on this path too many times to count, so it was basically second nature at this point. The passing cars gave no second glance to the seventeen year old they drove past on the highway, all too busy to get to their third party of the night. It didn’t bother him, though. He’d always made up stories for the people driving past.  

Shout at the wall

Because the walls don't fucking love you

Once he’d arrived in the garage, he dropped his bag on the couch and sighed, the stress from the night disintegrating into the concrete floor. He walked further into the garage, not even bothering to turn the lights on. He took a deep breath before kicking a pillow across the room. Pulling off his hoodie, he laid down on the couch, draping it over his chest.

It was silent for a moment before the second boy walked in. “Luke?” he asked softly, unsure if the boy on the couch was asleep.

“Hey, Reg,” Luke answered without even opening his eyes. “Bad time at home too?”

Reggie didn’t even have to answer before Luke was up off the couch, leading him up to the loft of the garage. They laid over the bags of clothing and guitar cases, the small hole in the roof letting moonlight seep through, illuminating the boys’ faces.

“Wanna talk about it?” Luke asked, running a comforting hand over the bass player’s shoulder.

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the tube line

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the rails

And he did. For a few minutes, he’d let out every thought that was lingering in his mind for the past month. Some of them not even the reason he left his house that night. But, although he was crying, it was a relief for him. Like any negative feeling that filled his being dissolved into the air above him and left the two with a sigh of relief afterwards.

Their comfortable silence was interrupted by the garage door opening for a third time that night. The blonde immediately noticed the faint sniffles of one of his best friends in the loft. To which he climbed the ladder and joined the pile, trying to hide the fact that he had been crying on the way here.

But, they noticed. And Luke asked him the same thing he’d asked Reggie twenty minutes before. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the tube line

There's a reason

That London puts barriers on the rails

And he spoke his mind. They let him release that tension. It came with some crying and self-doubt, to which they responded with supportive comments and comforting touches. But, he’d started to finally recognize the difference between how he felt about himself versus the way others made him feel. And on his face, a smile broke through for the first time that day.

“What about you, man?” Alex asked Luke, who’d been so generous to let the others pour every piece of themselves out on the floor.

He usually never shared in moments like this. He’d never admit it, but he always wants the others to be okay before he’d ever share what was on his mind.  Even then, he wouldn’t spill the whole story, just enough to make the others content.

And after they’d all spoken their hearts out, they looked at each other. And that was the spark that made them realize. There was another gust of wind that came through the hole in the roof that finally knocked out any negative feelings that were left. Reggie sighed contentedly, leaning further into Luke’s side as he played with his necklace. Alex tapped out a rhythm on his legs, staring through the hole in the roof, the stars laying out a familiar pattern for him to trace in his mind.

The silence ended with a sigh from Luke, “This is the only family we’re ever gonna need,” he explained softly. “There is nobody out there who understands us. Except for us.”

Both Alex and Reggie nodded. Alex laid back against the garbage bag filled with Luke’s clothes. Reggie curled further into Luke’s embrace, a soft sigh of relief escaping from his lips as he let sleep take over. Luke kept his comforting touch continuing for Reggie’s comfort. He waved Alex over to the pile, to which he complied, resting his head in the guitarist’s lap, tapping a different rhythm into his knee. It continued until Alex succumbed to the sleep that had been tugging at his eyelids for the past 15 minutes.  

Luke looked at his two best friends and nodded. Although this wasn’t the family he’d particularly wanted, it sure was the one he needed.

[pachitoherrera]

Pacho // safe – pt.2

a/n: alright my lovely angels, here is part 2! you can find part one here although it is not necessary to read it beforehand, as this part can be seen seperately! I hope you guys like it, and let me know what you think !🌸

You knew he was trouble from the moment you laid eyes on the self-confident smile and the gun that flashed under his jacket as he walked in. In fact, you should have seen it coming even before that, when the sound of motorcycles drowned out the music inside the bar and heads were turned to find the source of the disturbance, conversations ceasing.

You knew he was trouble before the whole country knew. You could tell by the expensive watch on his wrist, the golden chain hanging from his neck and by the way his eyes were watching you over his glass, dark and cold, hiding depths that you would slowly get to discover in the following years. 

You knew he was trouble the closer you got to him, slowly becoming one of his confidants, inevitably being dragged into the glorious and dangerous life of drug business. But never had you realized the reality of the danger until the wedding night of Gilberto Rodriguez’s daughter. It wasn’t the first time you had seen death, yet it was the first time you had felt true terror, fear for your life, fear for his life. 

The shuffling of footsteps outside your room made you snap out of your nostalgia trip, and soon a knocking was heard on your door. “Come in.” The man – one of three assigned by Pacho to guard you, endearingly labelled as Babysitters by you – appeared at the opening, his gun in its holster. “Navegante is here to see you.” “Oh?” You immediately got up, following the man to the entrance room of your small house. Navegante was no stranger to you, a peculiar man, although you always assumed he was hiding much more behind his silence. And so you knew that he was no man for small, insignificant message deliveries. 

“Don Pacho sent me to get you. Please pack your bag.” You scoffed, shaking your head. The events of the wedding hadn’t changed your mind about leaving the country, Pacho knew that. “Where to?”, you asked as gently as possible, trying to cover your annoyance. 

“A safe place.” 

“Thanks to these gentlemen” – you gestured towards your personal guards “ – my place is quite safe too. So I would prefer to stay here.” Navegante’s eyes hushed over the other men before looking back at you, nodding sympathetically. “I can’t allow that. Please understand that my orders are to not leave this place without you, no matter how. But truth is, I would prefer without force.” 

With a small suitcase containing your most important travel baggage and you in the backseat, Navegante drove up the driveway to the luxury villa. You faintly remembered this place, away from the city, surrounded by wild fields, a small paradise in the middle of nowhere. 

Pacho was already waiting, hands in his pockets, and by the cocky smile you could tell he was expecting your mood. “What‘s that all about?“, you asked slightly irritated, even before having fully stepped out of the car. He greeted you with a kiss on each cheek, his hands on your shoulders to hold you in place, knowing very well that else you would resist in your current state. “Change of plans. It’s safer for you to stay here.“ You stopped moving, eyes seeking his, looking for a hint to give away any worries. “What happened? Did you do something again?“ He tilted his head, fake indignation written on his face. „It hurts me that you think it is something I did.“ “Because most of the time it’s true. You attract trouble like a magnet, Pacho Herrera”, you said, watching Navegante carrying your suitcase inside. “So, where is my champagne reception? Is that how you treat your guests?” He laughed – a sound that had become rare lately, but made your heart smile – and leaned closer to you, lowering his voice. “Only the special ones.” His left hand gestured towards the entrance while his right hand found its place on your back, softly pushing your forward. “Why did you send Navegante?”, you asked while allowing him to lead you inside, admiring the paintings on the walls. “I figured he would be better at persuading you than I am.” “How right you were.” 

The place resembled a small holiday resort, big pool outside, even a small inside pool, a bar, own cooks, only the heavily-armed guards disturbing the picture of tranquillity. To your surprise, you spent a great amount of time with Pacho. Your conversations came naturally, reaching from complex political and business discussions to – after one or two cocktails too many – playful flirtations. When he was away, you tried to befriend the guards, engage them in small-talk or deeper conversations. You even managed to get Navegante to talk, and came to the conclusion that there was, in fact, a lot more behind his silence, true to the saying still waters run deep.

On the eighth day, you woke up to find yourself alone in the house, save the usual amount of guards. Pacho was gone, and to your surprise, it saddened you. Even though this place was a small paradise, the only reason that made your stay enjoyable was the time spent with him.

To make time run faster, and occupy your mind before worrying thoughts of Pacho’s whereabouts would start driving you crazy – after all, you cared about his safety as much as he did about yours – you decided to bring your baking skills to use, as long as the kitchen staff was absent. 

Humming to yourself, absorbed in your work, you didn’t hear the footsteps approaching. If you had turned around, you would have seen Pacho leaning in the doorway, his eyes soft and a smile on his lips that was so different from the smiles he usually wore. And maybe you even would have noticed the hint of confusion, as he tried to come to terms with this unusual feeling caused by your presence, the feeling that was the reason he felt as if every ounce of breath was taken from his lungs when you smiled at him, the feeling that ached his heart, but at the same time drove out the anger to replace it with warmth.

But you didn’t turn around, didn’t see the way he looked at you like a colourblind man, seeing a blooming garden of flowers for the first time. And when you finally did turn around, he was gone.

On the tenth day, you grew weary of your shortened wardrobe and sneaked into Pacho’s closet, a neatly organized room, filled with the most extravagant shirts. You let your hand slide over the different colours and fabrics until you pulled one out. The silk felt smooth under your grip, and you recognized the pattern immediately. He wore it on the day you first met, years ago in that small bar, a day that would forever change the course of your life. Unsurprisingly, the shirt was too large, and so you decided to leave it unbuttoned, only tying the ends together to cover what needed to be covered.

Pacho was on the phone in his office, by the tone of his voice you figured he was speaking to Gilberto, so you casually waved at him while walking past the room. He raised his hand, and just before you went out of view again, you saw his expression change. With quick steps you rushed to the living room, before he could stop you, picking an apple from the fruit basket. 

You barely had time to take the first bite before the soudn of steps could be heard behind you. “Why are you wearing my shirt?” You shrugged while swallowing.  “I ran out of clothes to wear. Besides – ” with a smile, you twirled around. “It looks much better on me.” The corners of his mouth twitched, but his expression remained the same, and for a short moment you wondered whether you had hurt him. And then you remembered who you were talking to, and that it took more than that. “I will send someone to get your things”, he finally said, earning an eye-roll from you. “Just let me go home already.” “No.” He leaned closer, face inches away from yours. “Just be patient, alright.” While you were trying to figure out why this physical proximity drove heat to your cheeks, he grabbed the apple out of your hand and took a bite while walking back to his office, leaving you frowning at him.

On the twelfth day, over a strawberry daiquiri, you admitted that you didn’t know how to dance properly. Through a detailed argumentation about the great importance of dance in Colombian culture, especially in the city of Cali, Pacho had persuaded you to “exclusive dance lessons – a once in a lifetime chance”, as he called it. The carefreeness evoked by alcohol prevailed against embarrassment,  and so you allowed him to take your hand and lead you to the dimly lit lounge.

You wouldn’t be able to recall what you talked about that evening, when his hands felt so naturally around your body, the familiarity between you bordering on intimacy. All you’d remember would be the way his body felt against yours when you touched, the way his eyes seemed to stare into your soul, his voice – husky but soft, and ultimately, the moment you realized that maybe it had always been more than just friendship.

Two weeks after you first arrived in this place, the news channels talked about the end of Pablo Escobar. Medellin went back to normal, life and laughter rising once again in the streets, the fear that had previously ruled the city was slowly disappearing, although the terror that was caused by one single man would never be forgotten. He wasn’t caught yet, but left without anyone to support him. And even though you grew used to this place, you came to the conclusion that spending any more time with Pacho would be challenging. Your latest realization only scared you, and as a natural human reaction to uncomfortable truths, you decided to avoid it. 

It was one of the hot days, where you spend the late morning lying by the pool and reading one of the many books you found in Pacho’s office. El viejo y el mar – the old man and the sea. “A classic.” You looked up to see Pacho standing in the entrance to the house, hands casually in his pockets. “Didn’t know you were that literate”, you said nonchalantly, putting the book aside. “All the good things in life.” He walked over to the sunbed next to you, sitting down. “My men find it quite distracting when you walk around half-naked, trying to engage them in conversations.” A short laugh escaped your lips, surprise mixed with confusion, the serious expression on his face indicating discontent. “Maybe you have the wrong men for this job then.” This time he laughed, face soothing, although the laugh didn’t reach his eyes. “Or listen, Pacho, maybe it is just time for me to go back home. Pablo Escobar is done”, you carefully started while watching him, noticing the subtle tensioning of his jaw. “He is still out there. As long as he is alive, he will be a threat. I don’t want to keep you here against your will, but it is for –” “Just for my safety, yes I gathered that”, you cut him short. “But is it really? For me? Or are you doing it for yourself, to have a clear conscience?” His eyes widened, only for a brief moment, but you had noticed. Body frozen, he then lowered his gaze, cigarette in his hand left to burn out. You waited, expecting him to brush you off, telling you to not be ridiculous in his usual sophisticated tone. But after a long pause, he just looked up, no words needed to express the guilt in his eyes. You stood up, taking the cigarette out of his hand in the process. Leaving Pacho speechless was not an easy achievement, and under these circumstances, you wouldn’t want to call it an achievement even. “I am tired of being treated like a prisoner, Pacho.” With a long drag, you finished the cigarette and leaned forward to put it out in the ashtray before walking back inside.

“Wait.” You stopped, turning around to face Pacho who was coming up to you, relieved that he didn’t let you walk away. “Do you really feel like that? Like a prisoner?” His voice was softer than usual, containing an insecurity that was new to you. It was strange, the way he managed to make you feel bad like no other, almost like out of the two of you, you were the cold, ruthless one. “I – no, I’m sorry. It’s nice here, but it’s not home”, you said, trying to take the weight out of your earlier statement. “We can make it your home.” You opened your mouth, but couldn’t think of an answer, astonishment sitting deep in your bones. “You are right”, he continued. “I am being egoistic, because I like this place better when you are here, and even the thought of something happening to you out there sickens me.” More than once had you tried to avoid the idea of the two of you being more than friends, afraid that it would be a ridiculous wish, which, in the end, would cause you more pain than a bullet in your body. And so, because it had been such an absurd notion, you had never thought of the way you would react in case it actually happened. You slowly forced yourself to awake from your trance-like state, knowing that Pacho rarely talked about his feelings, and your silence would only be unsettling him. And that’s the last thing you desired, because actually, you wanted him to know that he was the source of your happiness, that no safe houses, no amount of guards would make you feel as safe as being by his side. But you were afraid of blurting it all out, years of friendship and trust at risk. So instead, you reached for his hand, bringing it to your lips. “As long as you walk this earth, I refuse something happening to me”, you whispered against his skin, “after all, I need to look after you and all the trouble you cause.” He smiled, visibly relieved, and pulled you closer to place a kiss on your head. Moments of silence passed before you spoke again. “If I am to stay here longer now, we have to make a few changes to this place.” “Anything you want.”

[zero-rider]

A grim knight in the world

He didn't know why that new wolf-knight themed Grimm scared him, but at the same time it gave him a sense of familiarity. It was concerning for him, he was surprised by the hound when it took Oscar in Atlas, but this new Grimm scared him more than the first beowulf he saw when he was still untrained and on his way for his forged transcrips for Beacon. It didn't help the fact that he made him retreat from Atlas before he could enact the plan were he had fight Salem and endure so his friends could escape Atlas alive, maybe it was a bad idea, since he was talking about a freaking magical and inmortal old hag with probably TOO MUCH free time and an enormous grudge against his husband, who was in the body of a prepubertal boy... yep, normal as eff

But he was rambling right now

After they leaved Atlas, he, his team, RWBY, Qrow and Penny fought with the Grimm wolf knight him more than once, he always retreated with just a wound and followed them to everywhere, it was almost like he knew where they would go. It was curious that the knight Grimm always aimed for him only and occasionally Yang and Oscar, but in the end, he was always the target. Not Nora, not Ren, not Ruby, not Oscar or any other in his group, him. It was even curious that the Grimm knight tried to cut Cinder's head when she was about to kill Ruby and Penny in their way to Vacuo and he could only watch from afar, he and Ruby could swear that his topaz eyes changed to a deep saphire when he helped her to stand up. He was also skeptical about the identity of the humanoid Grimm, he called himself Alexandrine Arc, whose name was of his great-great grandfather, man whose history was as lost as Blake in a mall with only blond people and whose weapon was a sword and shield combo, not a great sword similar to his own after the upgrade in that village in anima

But again, he was rambling thanks to the nerves

it didn't took him too much to put two and two together and reveal the mystery of that humanoid grimm after some fights and some small chat with him when they crossed swords, it was clear to him who the masked man was, but he needed to be sure before jumping that bridge. That's why he made a plan for that in three simple steps, Step 1; wait for his ambush and made him bring Grimm or Salem's henchmen to distract the group. Step 2; find and make him follow him to a far away place to talk freely without breaking the mind of his friends. And lastly, Step 3; confront him. This plan was also a failure, the grimm knight sure as hell knew partially what he planned but followed his lead just to humor him. And when he finally got him alone to talk in a vast death forest in the frontier between Vacuo and Vale? Well, that was complicated

"... Alexandrine, that's not your name, Isn't it?" aske Jaune, whose sword was being sheathed on his shield, the grim knight only watched "i know your name... your true name..." that got an angry reaction of the grimm

"SILENCE!" he raised his sword and dashed to the blonde, who didn't move an inch, and when the name was said, he stopped, took a deep breath and cleaved his sword on the ground

"Jaune Arc... that is your name" the Grimm knight growled, his long sword changed to how it looked before, gold guard and a shining silver blade took the place of the stylish design on the blade and the bat wing looking guard. It was Crocea Mors again, looking as new as the day he got it from that blacksmith time ago "what happennd to you to leave you like this?"

"it was my fault... i made a dangerous wager and i lost, everyone died!" in that moment, the wolf mouth of his helmet open wide and leaved his head to reveal his face. Ashen white and long hair with only one blond fringe, tired red eyes with black sclera and veins popping out from his eyes and standing out on his bone white skin.The face and those words were enough to make him sheathed his sword on his shield sheath for an explanation

"plan?... then, that mean-" before his mind could go to think the consequences of his plan, his Grimm twin confirmed his suspicious

"yes, our plan failed, Salem won" he avoided his gaze, anger was found in his voice while he clenched his fists "they died... by Salem's word and by my own hand" this time his eyes moistened

"you... what..." tears came from him too, first was Pyrrha, now he had to lose all his friends too? and the worst of all, he was their executioner? "WHAT IS WRONG WITH YOU!!? DID YOU LOSE YOUR MIND!?" Jaune clenched his hands and even readied to fight with his fists, but the other Jaune didn't flinch

"lose my mind? how could i not?... all our life seems to be cursed by the twin gods, our family is tied with Salem and Ozpin, Remnant killed my family with reasons based in fear for the hypothetical power they could have. And after killing all my friends while i was not in control of my body, while she made me the general of her Grimm... my sanity, it died with them" he looked how his Grimm twin took his version of Crocea and give it back his dark form, only to be sheathed in a black, red and white sheath he generated with some weird looking black liquid

"did...did you also killed Ruby?" he knew very well the answer, and wondered if he was secretly a masochist for wanting to feel that wound in his heart, more tears hanged from his eyes as he downed his gaze to the dirt. As for the Ozpin and Salem being his many great grandparents, he just shoved it in the most deeper part of his mind, right now he needed his mind clear to try to understand his evil twin and his motivation, as dumb or inconsistent as they could be

"... i did, she said that she was glad to meet me at Beacon, that i was the best friend she could ask along with Penny... that she loved me... and then, she died with a smile on her face" that moment got a sad smile on his ivory face, even in her dead she looked so radiant and brave, not scared from him after their second meeting as huntress and Grimm. He only lamented the outcome and cursed that gift from his ancestor

"so?... you want my place don't you?" he asked, Jaune thought it was obvious. Both of them were family of a pair who didn't knew about couple therapy and killed possibly one, two or three of their daughters (not four, since his existence proved that one survived), so he wanted to kill him or made him take his place as the Grimm wolf knight

"in that your wrong, i came here with a task and a choice to do, those are, your world or mine?" Grimm Jaune circled him while he looked warily at his actions, how he calmed and was confused by his words

"mine or yours?" he was confused, but with the more information he had from his twin, the more he was lost at his reason to be there

"Salem stole the brother gods magic and gave me the choice to throw away everything in order to bring a dead world back to life i must sacrifice another self... That's the task i have. When someone of another world die, someone from this world is saved, in those terms, i must decimate your world to save MY world"

"... " he was lost of words, was he really that bad when his partner died or that only applied to his twin? either way, he was bound to stop him "you truly lost your mind"

"if it bring back my family, my friends... and Ruby. Then it's a price i'm willing to pay" Jaune knew he was serious, he was him after all, and that meaned that it would be a pain in the ass to fight against himself

"then i will not let you" he unsheathed his sword and pointed it to his twin, who was not amused by his answer

"just think about it for a moment, you can bring back Pyrrha, Clover and all the people who died by Cinder and Salem's hands. All this sorrow and pain can be avoided!" he opened his arms and looked around the dead grey forest they were

"if by destroying this word means that many more can be saved... then i will have to pass"

"let me say this again, you can save RUBY by doing that!" now his patience was giving up, how dared him to let his team die like that!? to let Ruby die on his arms!!? even his hands were shaking from pure anger at himself

"i know, but i would be saving your Ruby, not mine" that sounded as he didn't care about them, he did care, but those were the dead ones, the ones who were alive were fighting and succeeding to beat the small battalion of Grimm his twin brought with him

"so that's your answer? didn't we said that if our dead bringed time for RWBY's victory, then so be it!? why change that now!?" it was ironic, he disliked Salem, but right now he saw the resemble with her in his twisted version of him. it made him shiver just thinking about the process to make him look like the crazy inmortal ex-wife of Ozpin

"because that would make MY team and MY Ruby very sad, and that is something i can't allow" he did ready this time, he took his stance and prepared for the inminent fight with himself. That took the ‘you are your own sworn enemy’ thing to a next level on his mind

"and here i thought that you would understand since i am you" the Grimm looked at himself with a betrayed expresion, one that later passed to be an angered one "you will regret this!"

"i'm already regreting being me, being an idiot who didn't thought better" he ran at himself, semblance activated, shield up and sword ready for a strike

"what's done cannot be undone" his twin did the same, not before covering his face with his wolf helmet and unsheated his sword mid way to his human version

with the great sword on his right hand, he swinged his sword at Jaune, who got the cover with his shield and later did two opposite slashes at his Grimm version, the wolf knight dodged without moving to much and later crossed his sword with himself. After couple of seconds later, both of them took distance and ran at each other again

"HAAAAAAAAAHHHH!!!!/HOOOOOOOOOHHHH!!!" their part concluded with Grimm Jaune’s sword hitting Jaune's shield while the human one was preparing to parry his attack

Far away from the border of Vacuo and Vale

"so in the end i win despite Ozma's silver eyed pawn and my family on his side... this war has become more interesting" Salem laughed, watching the battle of his two descendants(one more perfect than other, in her opinion) from a seer Grimm in the comfort of her castle and surrowded of her minions, with mixed reactions from all of them

Watts was amazed from a scientific point view, and wondered if the process was the same as Cinder. Tyriand laughed and watched amazed the little huntsman he was interested, along with Neo. Mercury and Emerald while amazed too, they were actually a little scared about the Grimm twin of Arc. Hazel was wondering what to do about him, he was his queen child, so he was probably untouchable, but he was also Ozpin’s child, se he wanted to repay him with the same coin... what to do, what to do. And lastly, Cinder, she was pissed and hoped for both to die in a draw. It was understandable on her words, the guy not only give her a scar on her left eye in Heaven, but also tried to cut her head to save that damn red child

"watch carefully everyone, since he is my successor, the future general of my army and the key of my victory along with the maiden powers" everyone nodded, and waited for the end of the fight, if there was an end to this battle

To be continue

Part 1

[ahopkins1965]

SKIP TO CONTENT

Psychology

When Gratitude Leads You to Accept Less Than You Deserve

by Lan Nguyen Chaplin and Mike Chisholm

February 19, 2025



Francesco Carta fotografo/Getty Images

Summary.   

It’s no secret that practicing gratitude offers numerous benefits that can significantly enhance both individual and organizational performance. But excessive gratitude has its pitfalls....more

It’s no secret that practicing gratitude offers numerous benefits that can significantly enhance both individual and organizational performance. Research shows that it leads to increased engagement, higher productivity, and better retention rates. Gratitude can also be a tool for long-term success, fostering a positive mindset and leading to increased job satisfaction.

But what if we told you that gratitude also has its pitfalls?

We’re an unlikely duo—a gratitude and well-being scholar (Lan) and a CEO and executive advisor (Mike)—who connected on LinkedIn and engaged with each other’s content. During our discussions, we both reflected on our career journeys, realizing we shared a common regret: not having been more proactive in self-advocacy throughout our professional lives. This common ground stemmed from our humble beginnings, which had instilled in us a deep sense of gratitude for even the smallest of opportunities or acknowledgments, often at the expense of asserting our own worth and potential. As we delved deeper into the subject, we realized that an imbalanced approach to gratitude can have negative effects on our reasoning and decision making.

If you have ever accepted a modest raise, taken on a lateral move, or agreed to an additional project despite your full workload—all while feeling grateful for your manager’s recognition, yet silencing your true ambitions for fear of seeming ungrateful—you have experienced one of the pitfalls of excessive gratitude, without even realizing it.

But this isn’t as uncommon as you think.

Three Pitfalls of Excessive Gratitude

Falling into a gratitude trap could make us complacent and hinder professional development by creating a barrier to effective self-advocacy. Failing to balance appreciation for what we have and the drive to improve our circumstances can possibly lead to a career where your contributions are praised but the eventual outcome is missed opportunities for professional growth. As you embark on or continue your gratitude practice, be mindful of these three pitfalls—and learn how to avoid them.

Pitfall #1: Becoming content with the status quo or settling for less

Let’s say you get a chance to contribute to an important project. While it’s an exciting opportunity, it’s not exactly what you hoped for. You really aspired to lead this project. You might think to yourself, “I should be grateful I’m on the project. I’m better off than those who didn’t get this chance at all.” This is a classic example of downward social comparison, wherein gratitude can lead you to compare your situation favorably to others who may be less fortunate. While this perspective can be valuable at times, it can also be a barrier to self-improvement and advocacy.

How to avoid this pitfall: 

To avoid complacency and missed opportunities, understand that self-promotion is essential for career growth, and recognize that aspiring for more does not negate gratitude for present circumstances. In fact, aspiring for more reflects a healthy ambition and a desire for continuous improvement.

In a situation like this, engage with your manager to discuss your professional journey by highlighting your capabilities. Affirm your commitment to your ongoing project’s success. Then, clearly articulate your aspirations using “I statements” (e.g., I feel prepared to lead…).

“I statements” allow you to express your perspective assertively while helping listeners understand your viewpoint without feeling attacked, facilitating clearer communication. They also enhance emotional intelligence by increasing awareness of your own emotions. For example, instead of saying “You don’t give me enough stretch projects,” reframe this statement: “I feel ready to take on more challenging assignments that expand my skill set, and I’d like to discuss how I can contribute more to the team.”

This reframing avoids blame, centers a proactive mindset, and invites collaborative dialogue about growth opportunities.

Pitfall #2:  Avoiding critical conversations

An overemphasis on gratitude can make you hesitant to voice legitimate concerns, potentially missing opportunities for improvement. For instance, you may feel hesitant to broach topics such as racism, sexism, or discriminatory behaviors with those in positions of authority or influence, such as managers, donors, founders, or board members because you feel it is expected of you to be grateful for the support they have given you. Or you might hesitate to tell your manager that you might be experiencing burnout fearing you’ll appear ungrateful for the opportunity to work on important projects.

The fear of being perceived as ungrateful for opportunities “given” to you can create a barrier to open communication, where valid concerns are suppressed, perpetuating a cycle of silence around important issues that need addressing.

How to avoid this pitfall: 

Expressing appreciation for opportunities or support doesn’t preclude addressing uncomfortable topics, including systemic issues. One way to avoid this pitfall is by adjusting your mindset to focus on what you have earned (“I’m grateful my manager recognized my high performance and assigned this project to me”) more than what you have been gifted (“I’m grateful my manager gave me the opportunity to work on this project”). This shift in mindset can help you feel empowered to have difficult conversations with your manager.

For example, to address concerns about equity, you can try to frame necessary reforms as commitments to shared values rather than personal attacks on any individual or the leadership team. You could say, “Thank you for fostering a culture where feedback is valued, and we feel heard. To embody our commitment to inclusion, I’d like to work with you to address how promotion timelines disproportionately impact caregivers.” This approach creates a foundation of goodwill that can facilitate challenging conversations while aligning your concerns with the company’s broader mission, increasing the likelihood that your suggestions will be well-received and acted upon.

When discussing workload concerns with your supervisor, present concrete data demonstrating how your capacity has been exceeded. For instance, if you are experiencing burnout risks due to competing priorities, you might say: “I aim to maintain high-quality output on our key projects; however, my current workload is creating conflicting demands. I have three project kick-offs over the next 10 days. And each requires a prep of at least three days. Perhaps we could review organizational priorities to identify tasks that could be temporarily scaled back or reassigned, ensuring that I focus on the most critical areas and perform at high standards without experiencing burnout.”

Pitfall #3: Masking negative emotions

While gratitude can be a powerful tool for well-being, an excessive focus on positivity can sometimes lead to emotional suppression. This phenomenon, often termed “toxic positivity,” occurs when gratitude practices are used to bypass or minimize legitimate concerns and negative experiences. Research also shows that individuals may experience cognitive dissonance when they feel compelled to project positivity despite experiencing negative emotions. By constantly seeking silver linings, you may unintentionally avoid confronting difficult emotions or addressing the underlying issues that are contributing to them.

Say, you’re entrusted with every high-profile project on the team and that makes you feel proud, accomplished, and valued. But you also feel frustrated and overwhelmed at the sheer quantum of that work. You work weekends and nights to get through your to-do list. But you choose not to voice this because you’re grateful for the immense flexibility your manager has extended to you, which has made it easier for you to manage work and life responsibilities.

How to avoid this pitfall:

Remember that it’s normal to have a multitude of emotions and that all emotions are valid and serve a purpose, even the uncomfortable ones. Having the courage to feel negative emotions can be empowering—it can be the fuel you need to push for change.

Setting boundaries is an essential part of this process and it involves clearly communicating your limits and needs to others. For example, in the situation above, you can express your appreciation for another opportunity while transparently outlining how you feel about your current workload. You might say: “Thank you for considering me for another exciting opportunity. I’m eager to start, but I’m also committed to excelling in my current work on [projects]. It’s been challenging managing the competing deadlines for these three projects, and I was wondering if you could help me figure how we should we sequence this new initiative?”

By acknowledging all your emotions and setting clear boundaries, you create a healthier environment that supports self-advocacy. 

Gratitude is vital for mental wellbeing, but it is also important to be mindful of its pitfalls. As you navigate the complex landscape of modern business, it’s crucial to recognize that gratitude and self-advocacy are not mutually exclusive. In fact, when approached mindfully, they can be powerful complementary forces driving both personal satisfaction and professional success. By cultivating empowered gratitude, you can build the confidence and growth mindset needed to advocate for yourself and your organization effectively.

LC

Lan Nguyen Chaplin is professor of marketing at Northwestern University, Medill School of Journalism, Media, Integrated Marketing Communications. She is also the founder of QuanTâm, a nonprofit that creates opportunities for young professionals to expand their networks and sharpen their professional skills while serving their community.    

MC

Mike Chisholm is the Founder and CEO of Chisholm Consulting Group, specializing in strategy planning and execution, mergers and acquisitions, and business transformation. Mike has held senior executive roles in business services and supply chain and logistics, including, President & CEO of A & A Customs Brokers, CEO and COO of Canstar Restorations, and several senior executive leadership roles with Livingston International and Day & Ross.









Read more on Psychology

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[lilith-lovett]

Found Families - Home is Where the Hart is - Chapter Twenty Three

I am back (hopefully for good this time). I am in my second semester of University and because of the situation in the UK I am at home for the first couple of months but hopefully I will able to move back into my accommodation by the end of the month. Okay little life update over, I have a short chapter for you today but I honestly really like it, I had a burst of inspiration the other day so I decided to get this chapter finished. I was giving a lot of trouble in the beginning but I managed to get it done super quickly and here it is. I hope you enjoy.

Masterlist

Summary: Patton opens up

Word Count: 2841

Warnings: Past child abuse, past emotional abuse, homophobia, homophobic parents, anxiety, self-deprecation, food mention (If I have missed anything please let me know)

Logan repeated Patton’s words over and over again in his mind. Knowing Patton, it presumably wasn’t some insignificant comment. He often had secret meanings behind his words Logan couldn’t always decipher but he had began to recognise when they appeared. Patton had something else to say but felt like he couldn’t. Perhaps, Dot and Larry had told Patton of their conversation and Logan’s rather invasive questions about Patton’s childhood? Maybe he was upset with him for his prying? What had he done? He should have known not to ask questions? Logan should apologise and allow Patton to select an appropriate punishment for his behaviour. Perhaps, it wouldn’t be to late. Maybe, if he took ownership of his actions now Patton wouldn’t be so upset. However, Patton was entitled to his anger and Logan deserved it. Logan deserved to be punished. He did something wrong. His curiosity became invasiveness and he obviously hurt Patton and he needed to make it right.

Logan stood up from his bed and took a deep breath. Gathering his nerves and mentally constructing his apology. He looked to the bear sat limply at the head of his bed for courage but all it gave him was another reminder of everything Patton had done for him, not only the monetary contributions like the clothes and furniture he had purchased for him but the continuous kindness Patton had shown him ever since they first met and every day since. Patton had given Logan a home. An escape from the hell he was living. He needed to apologise. To explain himself and hope and pray it wasn’t to late.

Logan walked downstairs, seeing Patton making preparations for dinner tonight while Declan slept on the sofa, swaddled in one of the several blankets Patton decorated with and a toy clutched in his hand. Patton was singing along to a song which was playing on the radio so hadn’t noticed Logan yet and he didn’t want to disturb Patton but the longer he waited the worse he felt. Logan walked slowly towards the kitchen, a lump forming in his throat. He hoped Patton would turn around, saving him from this drawn out torture, the spiders crawling up his throat, preventing any words from coming out. After what felt like an eternity but Logan knew it had realistically only been a couple of minutes, Patton looked up.

“Oh, hello, Logan,” Patton said switching the radio off and giving Logan his full attention which made Logan feel worse. Patton was trying. He had been trying since the day they met. To understand all of Logan’s quirks and habits, his learned behaviours and rather unconventional ones for which even he didn’t understand but Patton always tried to and for that he was grateful. Logan wasn’t easy. He was aware of that fact above all others. Yet Patton despite his own clear struggles did everything in his power to create a safe environment for him, a home. But he could not allow himself to enjoy it, to show to his true gratitude and be normal for once but he had to go and ruin everything again. “Are you alright, kiddo, you look like you have a lot on your mind,”.

“P-Patton, I feel I must apologise to you,” Logan blurted out, hoping it would expel the horrible tension weighing on him. “For my meddling and invasive questioning, it was wrong of me to pry into your childhood and invade your personal privacy. You have been nothing but kind and accommodating to me and I will accept any punishment you see fit,”.

Logan’s breath caught in his throat as he finished, he hadn’t realised how quickly words had been exiting him until he was fighting for air. He finally glanced up at Patton, having had been staring at the ground throughout his speech. The shame he felt when looking Patton in the eye was too much to bare but the heavy silence present in the air was far worse. Patton’s expression was difficult to read, it often was for him despite others describing him as an ‘open-book’ or that he ‘wore his heart on his sleeve’ both idioms Logan struggled to comprehend. His eyes were wide and his mouth slightly agape indicating surprise but Logan failed to gauge anything further. Then Patton did something Logan hadn’t expected. He hugged him.

“Let’s sit…I think we need to have a talk,” Patton said in a soft, sombre voice, it was unlike Patton’s regular sunny disposition which only heightened Logan’s anxiety yet he complied and allowed Patton to lead him to the sofa.

 Patton lead Logan to the sofa, indicating for him to sit while he sat across from him. Logan looked at him quizzically but complied, none of the tension leaving his body as Patton hoped it would yet he wasn’t surprised. Logan was cautious by nature, Patton was sure he had envisioned…no convinced himself that this situation would go in an very different direction and was sceptical of the outcome. Patton had wanted to address Logan’s belief that he was always doing something wrong and he would be punished for simply existing in time, as he believed Logan wasn’t mentally ready for that conversation but his behaviour was extremely distressing and Patton didn’t know how they could carry on as normal with so much still unknown. Perhaps it was time. He had expected his words would strike a cord with Logan but what he hadn’t expected was Logan’s reaction, maybe he should have. Patton knew Logan’s mindset had been warped after years of abuse. Of course, his brain immediately went to the worse case scenario and convinced him he was to blame. He had experienced that same thing his entire life.

“So, I want to make something clear, you have nothing to apologise for, it is me who needs to apologise. I should have been more careful with my words, it wasn’t my intention to cause you any more stress so I am sorry,” Patton said as he observed Logan, his eyes scanned his own face as if he were searching. Searching for an ulterior motive in his words but from his confused expression he could not find any. “I’m being serious Logan, I should have been honest with you from the beginning. You’re so smart kiddo, I’m not surprised you figured out something wasn’t right,”.

“B-but, I shouldn’t have pried,”. Logan interjected, withdrawing further into himself.

“I’m not upset with you for asking questions, it is a good thing, I just wish you felt like you could come to me with them but I understand why you found it easier to ask Dot and Larry, the whole situation is still a little bit of a sore spot for me,” Patton confessed, he hadn’t expected to ever be talking about his childhood again. He attempted to avoid discussing it all costs much to Emile’s annoyance but he didn’t have many happy memories from that time in his life and would much rather forget it existed at all. But that wish would be hypocritical of him considering how much he encouraged everyone around him to be open and honest with their feelings. However, he seemed to struggle with taking his own advice. “But I am willing to answer any questions that you might have,”.

“Okay…Dot mentioned that you haven’t seen nor spoken to your biological parents since the day the kicked you out,” Logan stated bluntly, Patton flinched at the sudden reminder. “Why?”.

“Um…uh…well,” Patton stuttered, he should have expected Logan to immediately begin with the question he asked himself on a near daily basis up until recently but he took a breath and then another before shifting closer to Logan. “I think it easier if I start from the beginning. My parents weren’t exactly the warmest people, they were very traditional and conservative, they had a lot of expectations…for me especially. To do good in school, go to College, get a good job as a Doctor or Lawyer...marry a…women and give them grandchildren. A lot of parents want that for their children, they want them to live happy, successful and fulfilling lives but...for my parents it was a requirement,”.

“For them nothing was more important than image and reputation, they had theirs to maintain and I couldn’t do anything that would harm it. Like get a bad grade in school or date someone they didn’t approve of. It was a lot of pressure for a kid at the time and it was hard,” Patton continued burying his hands into his shirt as he recalled the painful memories. “I wasn’t the best student. I tried but my grades didn’t reflect the effort I was putting in but I still wanted to be a doctor. They were so proud of that. That their only son was going to be a doctor but it didn’t stop their expectations from growing.

“I didn’t end up getting good enough grades to pursue medicine, so I aimed lower, I wanted to be a teacher, something attainable that I was actually passionate about but they didn’t approve. We got into so many arguments about that. I didn’t want to disappoint them but it was all I was seeming to do,” Patton trailed off, it had been years ever since Patton had told anyone about his parents or his childhood. He hadn’t expected it to be so difficult to talk about. He could feel his hands beginning to tremble as he wound his hands deeper into his shirt, he felt a nudge on the side of his leg. It was Logan. Patton hadn’t noticed Logan gradually inching closer as he told his story, the gesture was so sweet it almost completely distracted him from the growing sadness in his chest. He continued. “I-I was just figuring out my sexuality, Emile and his parents knew, they helped me a lot even back then. I wanted to come out but they didn’t think it would be a good idea. I understood why, my parents were hyper-religious and extremely intolerant to anyone they considered ‘not normal’ but I guess I was holding out hope because I was their son that they would accept me…They didn’t,”.

“I think that was the worst day of my life…it was like they didn’t know me any more and the past seventeen years I did everything for them meant nothing. They kicked me out and I moved in with Emile and his parents. It took some time but I eventually got back on my feet and I never spoke to them again,” Patton finished with an exhale, slumping over as exhaustion overtook his body, when he glanced up Logan was still by his side.

“They never reached out?” Logan asked.

“No, I haven’t heard from them since that day, they disowned me,”Patton answered so many times in the first few months he prayed for his parents to visit or call or text him, something to tell him that they still cared but nothing.

“Do Roman and Virgil know?” Logan inquired.

“Little bits and pieces. They know that Dot and Larry aren’t their ‘real’ grandparents but they never questioned it beyond that, I never told them the full story,”. Patton explained Roman and Virgil never asked any questions about their extended family. Roman had been in orphanage since he was born and as such never knew anything about grandparents while Virgil’s biological family was isolated from the rest of their family so Virgil and Dee had no relationship with them. Emile, Dot and Larry had been apart of their lives ever since they entered Patton’s and viewed them as their grandparents so he never felt the need to explain. “Do you have any other questions, I want you to feel like you can ask me anything?”.

“Your parents were not kind people,” Logan said quietly, his head down-turned and his hands wound into his trousers.

“They were not,” Patton admitted. That was the first time he had ever said it aloud. He had avoided criticising or speaking badly of his parents despite the several conversations he had, had with Emile about this very subject. They made Patton feel horrible about himself, made him believe he could do nothing right and he would never be good enough for them. Yet he couldn’t admit to himself they were wrong.

“I apologise Patton, no parent should abandon you for simply being who you are,” Logan said Patton noticed Logan’s hands twitching every so often, as if he were trying to reach it out towards him. Patton had to restrain a squeal at Logan’s attempt to comfort him. “Family should accept you,”.

“Thank you Logan, it was hard to handle for a while but I have a new family now. Roman, Virgil, Dee, Emile, Dot, Larry and now you Logan. Family doesn’t have to be blood related, it is the family that you chose for yourself that is truly special. You deserve to surround yourself with people who support you and you feel safe and happy with and I have finally found that,” Patton said reaching out to take hold of Logan’s hands and he didn’t pull away from his touch. Patton squeezed his hands and Logan returned it.

“I am pleased you found it,” Logan said softly, before dropping Patton’s hands, Logan’s words made him feel somewhat sad. Once again he was distancing himself from the family. Patton knew it would take awhile for Logan to grow comfortable enough to truly accept that he was apart of the family but hopefully in a short while he would be to convince Logan that he was an irreplaceable member. “Patton?”.

“Yes,”.

“I’m not ready to talk about it yet,” Logan said his head hung low as his entire body tensed. Patton didn’t need to ask what Logan was referring to. He knew very little of what Logan endured at the hands of his parents and while he was aware of some of what he experienced during his years at the orphanage, having been present for Logan’s police interview, he knew it wasn’t the full story. Patton knew this was the next step for Logan in order for him to settle in fully, Patton could only do so much but Logan had been through so much hurt and pain this was only the beginning.

“That is okay, I’ll be here to listen when you are,” Patton responded stretching a tentative arm out, ready to withdraw it if needed but Logan moved into his open arms, pressing his cheek against Patton’s chest. Patton hugged Logan close, resting his chin on his head, rubbing the tension out of his body.

Patton couldn’t tell you how long they sat their, Logan wrapped up so small in his arms, all of his stress and worries dissipating from his body. Patton could have stayed there forever but a quick glance towards the clock forced him back to reality. How had it gotten do late? Roman would be returning from Elliott’s shortly and both Virgil and Dee would be wondering where dinner was. Patton glanced down at Logan, only just now realising he had fallen asleep, the deep frown lines had smoothed from his forehead as he softly snored. If only Patton had his camera but he didn’t want to disturb him. He knew Logan struggled to sleep, yet another issues they needed to discuss but now wasn’t the time. Patton glanced towards the clock one more time then back towards Logan. Perhaps it was a pizza kind of night.

It feels really good to be posting again and I hope I will be able to keep up with chapter updates but I am taking a lot of classes this year so I may be a little behind with updates. I have no intention of abandoning this series, I love it way too much. If you have any questions about the series or have a request for me please do not hesitate to send me an ask.

Taglist;  @i-do-not-dislike-fudge @poems-art-darkness-n-more @alex-cain @amber1594 @darkrainbow333 @falseh0od @lovingcreatorstrawberry @mason-does-a-thing @callboxkat @tacohippy56900 @anxiousangel121 @comicsimpson @harrypotternerdprincess @cobythinks @whatschooldoesntteachyou @fandomkitty8 @coloursintheblur @read-write-inspire-repeat @clinicalawesomeness @deceit-sanders-deserved-better @scared-ghosthunter @silverstarlinedart @winterrose42 @alotofstupidstuff @imalwaysthatoneperson @glitchybina @dumbgayemo @quietwords-loudthoughts @altruistic-skittles @thecrimsonstoryteller 

[miss-noo-na]

And Then There Were Three (Part 5)

Title: And Then There Were Three

Rating: Mature.

Warnings: Smut; rough sex, dirty talk (vulgar language this chapter), choking

Summary: After catching you with Jooheon, Changkyun becomes distant. You’re determined to find out if he’s as jealous as you think he is.

Note: See masterlist for parts 1-4!

Just as you were able to read the shifts in Jooheon’s moods, you could do the same with Changkyun, but he was less subtle about it.

There was a heat that radiated off of him when you came near, and not the kind you were used to. His tone was deep and curt when you spoke at work, though it wasn’t unusual to appear casual in your professional environment. But this was different. This read like anger.

You hadn’t had the chance to be alone with him since he walked in on you and Jooheon at the dorm. Their schedule was getting hectic again and they barely had the time to breathe, much less do anything else. 

“Do you think he’s avoiding me?” You asked Jooheon in a hushed tone as you stood at the back of the room, looking busy with accessories.

Jooheon shrugged, feigning ignorance, but when he glanced at his friend you could see his gears turning.

“If he was upset about it, I feel like he would tell us. He’s not exactly shy about his feelings.” Jooehon offered with a small, reassuring laugh. 

“Has he said anything to you?”

“Not really.”

You sighed, knowing you would have to bring it up to him eventually.

For now, you focused on your job, or at least tried to. Every day, you asked yourself if this was a mistake, if all the fun was worth the turmoil you might find yourself in if someone got too jealous. You didn’t understand why now, when he had never once expressed even a hint of it before. He made it apparent since day one that it was exclusively physical, and he didn’t even bat an eye at sharing you with his best friend and co-worker. If anyone should be okay with it, it would be him.

There was more to it than that, though. You couldn’t help but think back to what it felt like being alone with Jooheon, his care and precision, his tenderness and his words. He didn’t treat you like a thing to be discarded and it was becoming apparent that you were more than a physical fancy to him. 

He could hardly help himself sometimes. The way that Changkyun felt compelled to seduce and play with you, Jooheon often had to stop himself from being too affectionate. It was getting to the point that the others teased him about it, and that didn’t help your situation with Changkyun one bit.

The worst part was that you liked it. You blushed and felt the slightest hint of butterflies from time to time that you put a great deal of energy into squashing. Catching feelings was the last thing you needed, and you were convinced it was only because it had been so long since you felt something other than lust. Plus, there was this profound sense of guilt you had for it, like you were cheating on Changkyun somehow.

Just as you were formulating a plan for how to approach him, you received a message out of the blue. He would be alone tonight and he wanted you to come over. The abrupt and welcoming message threw you off-guard, but you happily accepted the invitation. 

When he invited you in, his cold demeanor hadn’t changed much, and you wondered what his intentions were. You were anxious, watching him put something on the TV and meander around the kitchen before coming to sit next to you. He was surprisingly relaxed,  but you could feel the invisible wall he put up, even if he didn’t realize it.

“Are we going to talk?” You asked after a few minutes of silence.

“About what?” He asked almost too quickly in response. His gaze was hard-set into you as he turned and you felt challenged. That’s when the fear started to dissipate and boil up into anger. You had nothing to be sorry for.

“You know, I don’t appreciate all this attitude you’ve been throwing at me lately.” You said sternly, and you could tell he didn’t anticipate push-back this early into the conversation.

“I’ve barely spoken to you.” He laughed, and there was something smug about it that only pushed you further. You remembered being in relationships in the past and just knowing that a fight was brewing, and this was exactly like that.

“You’ve been passive-aggressive for over a week now, will you just tell me what's wrong?” You sighed, already exasperated. You thought being in a physical relationship only meant that you could escape these kinds of conversations. Apparently not.

 He turned away and you could see his jaw tighten, like he was holding back.

“Is it about me and Jooheon?” You asked, knowing that was the only thing it could be.

He looked back again just as quickly, eyes narrowed. “Maybe it is, but what does it matter?”

Finally, something you could work with.

“You couldn’t just tell me you were jealous?”

He laughed, “Who said that?”

“Oh my God,” You rolled your eyes and reacted with your entire body. “This is exhausting, why are men such babies about everything? Just communicate like an adult, Jesus. Why are we even fighting? We’re not married, this is pointless.” You rambled, not even looking at him because you were lost in your own frustration. When you stopped, he was half-smiling at you.

“I like when you get all flustered.”

You blinked and closed your mouth, then scowled as the words sunk in. “What?”

“You’re right, there’s nothing to fight about. I got a little upset about it, so what?”

“Oh, so you’re admitting it now?”

He edged himself across the couch so he was closer to you. “Fine, you want the truth?”

“Preferably,” You nodded.

“It wasn’t anything as petty as jealousy, I don’t get jealous.”

You narrowed your eyes, unsure what to make of his response, but curious to let him continue.

“I felt something different, and I didn’t really know how to process it quite yet, so I took some time to myself to think about it.”

He reached up and ran a finger from underneath your chin across your jaw line, his eyelids hanging low. You felt your heart rate speed up and cursed yourself for it.

“And what was that?” You asked quietly.

“I felt, hmm,” He mused for a moment before grinning. “Possessive.”

You swallowed the sound that threatened to part from your lips. Instead meeting it was an inquisitive “Oh?”

“I don’t own you.” He clarified, then let his eyes drift down, “But I do, don’t I?”

It was all part of the game. Realistically, out in the waking world, you were two capable adults with independent minds and the freedom to feel and do as you pleased. But once the door closed and you were under him, you knew you would let him do almost anything. It was the dynamic you both agreed upon from the first night, letting go of your inhibitions and self-imposed restraints and letting him have the control. It was the thing you longed for, the thing that kept you coming back to him.

“I’m a rational person, so I knew I couldn’t just be upset with you over something so normal and something you have every right to do.” He explained, then his voice deepend as he leaned in closer, “But I also couldn’t help picturing all the ways I was going to make you mine again.”

That word, mine, echoed in your head. Someone else had also uttered it to you in a moment of passion recently, and it sent a shiver down your spine. You had two people who seemed to want you desperately, and while you knew logically this was dangerous, it also excited you.

“You put me through all this just to tell me something I already knew?” You asked, and he smiled. 

“Would an apology help?”

You thought about it for a moment before answering. “I think that’s fair.”

He took you swiftly by the wrist and stood up, tugging you along. You fumbled for a moment before you stood and let him lead you to his bedroom.

You barely had time to process what was happening, one minute arguing on the couch and now here he was sitting you down on the edge of the bed, leaning down and kissing you before he knelt on the floor in front of you.

“What are you doing?” You asked, his hands trailing up your bare calves, up to your knees where the bottom of your skirt stopped and rested over your thighs. He then gripped your legs and pulled them up off the ground, causing you to lose balance and fall back onto the bed with a squeak. He pushed your legs open and the skirt fell back, too, exposing what was underneath.

“I’m apologizing.”

The initial shock wore off and you felt your cheeks warm as he laid a hand over your clothed center and pressed, teasing you for a moment before slipping his fingers underneath and feeling between your folds.

“Hm, you’re already wet but I know you can do better than that.”

He gripped the fabric and pulled it hard, forcing your legs up and together to rid you of the garment. When you let them fall back on either side of him, he wasted no more time, pushing your thighs apart and ducking his head down to taste you.

A sharp moan left you without warning and your hands fell to his hair. It had been a long time since he’d done this, and you almost forgot what his tongue felt like bearing down on your clit, rolling over the flesh and sucking you into his mouth. Changkyun abandoned this stimulation to travel downward, and you gasped unexpectedly when his tongue forced its way inside you, hands pressing back on your thighs to get deeper. Your fingers gripped his locks tight as you arched back and almost couldn’t take it. 

He pulled back for a moment, mouth glistening as he observed you, a low satisfied hum emanating from his chest.

“Look at what I do to you, you’re a mess.”

You blushed and closed your eyes tightly, feeling both aroused and embarrassed, and could only moan in response.

“Turn around.”

His voice was gruff as he stood up, and you let your feet fall gently to the floor as you sat up and stared up at him in awe for a moment. He was undoing his belt, looking down at you as he licked your juices off his lips.

“You heard me.”

You quivered as you went to turn over, and as your knees hit the bed he was already yanking the skirt and the rest of your clothing off you. Suddenly you were naked, kneeling on your hands and knees and arching your hips up as you peered back over your shoulder. 

He had discarded his own clothing and took his hard cock into one hand, stepping forward and deliberately brushing it against your entrance. You mewled and pressed back, trying to let him enter you, but he resisted.

“Do you want it bad?” He asked with a smirk.

You thought about making a sarcastic remark, knowing he was enjoying playing this game with you, but instead you countered him the only way you knew would actually make a blow to him.

You reached back and pulled yourself open, biting your lower lip and giving him a wanton yet demure stare. “Yes, please.”

His eyes darkened and the smile fell away from his face, he let out a rough, low sound as he grabbed your hips and aligned his cock with you. 

“I know I’m not the only person who can turn you on,” He started before leaning forward, sinking his cock deep into you just as he grabbed a handful of your hair and pulled your head back so his lips came as close as they could to your ear, “But I’m the only person who can give it to you like this.”

With that, his hips snapped into a pounding rhythm, fucking you like only he could, hard but with intent, making you grip the sheets in your hands and your legs to tremble. This was the moment when you were his, when he made it clear you belonged to him, at least for right now, and you embraced it. You craved it.

The harder he fucked you the weaker you became, arms starting to wobble in an attempt to hold yourself up. His thrusts were unrelenting, like he had been storing up all his energy just for this moment. 

The hand that still held your hair dropped down to your shoulder and he stopped briefly to pull you up. You wavered, dazed and shaky as you fell back against his chest and his arms circled under yours. One came up to lock your throat in his hand, and the other forced itself between your thighs, slick with your arousal. You groaned and arched against him, not sure which one you liked better.

Then he started to move again, thrusting up into you steadily, burying his cock to the hilt before letting gravity pull him back out just to do it again. His fingertips found your clit and he rubbed circles around the wet, swollen flesh as his other hand tightened around your neck.

“All of this is mine,” Changkyun growled against your ear. “Your body, your pleasure, your cunt. I own this.”

He was always rough, always commanding and always made you feel like you were his, but this was different. Unlike his typical playful candor, he sounded serious. The passion and possessiveness was overwhelming, somehow equal parts terrifying and exhilarating and you didn’t even consider stopping. Instead, his consuming words rasped heavily into your ear were pushing you toward a toe-curling, full body orgasm you couldn’t stop even if you wanted to.

You felt so exposed like this, nothing to hold on to, so you reached back and dug your nails into his thighs as your pleasure mounted. 

“I can’t,” You near-sobbed, trying to tell him you couldn’t hold on anymore.”I’m-it’s too much.”

He knew, he could read your body like the back of his hand; your shallow breaths and clenching muscles, slurred words, all tell-tale signs that your end was near. 

“Don’t hold back,” He said through his teeth, “Give me what's mine. Come for me.”

You sucked in a lungful of air as your eyes slammed shut, body pulling taut, then released it all in a long moan, bowing into him, squirming in his arms as you pulsed around his cock and sank your nails deeper in his skin. As you rode the last wave, he released you, letting you fall forward onto the bed and grabbing onto your hips to pull you flush against his pelvic bone, spluttering moans against the back of your neck as he came deep inside you.

You couldn’t hold yourself up anymore, collapsing face first on the bed and wrapping your arms under your head, breathing hard and dripping sweat. Changkyun managed to hold himself over you, but rested his forehead between your shoulder blades and panted against your moist skin.

He finally pulled himself from you and fell heavy on the bed next to you, and you peered up from over your arm.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, eyes glassy as he stared up at the ceiling, trying to control his pounding heart.

“For what?” 

“I kind of got out of hand there,” He rolled his head toward you and forced an awkward laugh. 

“It’s okay,” You rolled over on your side facing him, cheeks tinged with pink. “I liked it.”

The humor eased from his features as he looked at you for a long moment. “Can I tell you something?”

“Of course.”

“I sort of lied earlier,”

“Oh?” You gave him a curious look, though you could guess what he was going to say.

“I may have actually been a little jealous. I was just trying to save face before.”

“I mean, the way you just fucked me made that abundantly clear.”

For the first time in all the times you had been with Changkyun, he blushed.

“I didn’t want to be petty about it, I don’t know what came over me.” He looked away. “It was fine when it was the three of us, it felt more like Jooheon was just an addition to something you and I already had. But when I saw just the two of you….” He trailed off with a sigh.

You couldn’t help but smile a little bit, it was nice to see him vulnerable for once. 

“How did it happen?” He asked suddenly, looking back at you with a sense of urgency, to your surprise.

“What do you mean?”

“I mean did you call him? Did he call you? I’m curious.” He said, trying to seem vaguely interested but you already knew it was more than that. You decided to humor him.

“I came over to talk to him. He had been acting distant, as you recall, and I wanted to know why.” You answered with a half shrug.

“Why was he distant?”

“Same reason you were. Feeling a little jealous and being too proud to just talk to me about it.” You smiled and he had a laugh at himself.

“This is going to sound weird, and probably selfish, but..” He faded out, waiting to continue. 

“But?” You encouraged.

“What does he have that I don’t? I mean, what does he do, that makes you want to be with him?”

You hadn’t expected that question, but it did seem natural now that he asked it. His ego was hurt, he was used to being the one who satisfied you, the one you came running to for your urges. 

“It’s...different with him. Not necessarily better, just different.” You tried to explain.

“Care to elaborate?” He asked, becoming visibly antsy to find out.

“I don’t know, he’s ...tender.” You struggled to find the words. “It’s not rough but it's passionate. And it’s not boring, but it's kind of soft and makes me feel precious.”

Changkyun’s face looked troubled as you spoke. “That makes sense.”

“Like I said, it’s not better. I like what you and I have, but sometimes I just want-”

“You want to feel loved.”

You blinked at him in surprise. The word love was troublesome to you. You had thought you were in love, once. It was foolish and naive and ended terribly, so you decided you would avoid those feelings if at all possible. But maybe he was right? Maybe you missed that feeling. But that didn’t mean you were in love, or that Jooheon-

“Jooheon is in love with you.” He spoke bluntly, cutting off your thoughts. Now your eyes widened even more and you spluttered out a laugh. “What? No…”

“He hasn’t told me or anything, but I can tell.”

You couldn’t believe that at all. Maybe he had a crush on you, but love?

“The problem is,” Changkyun reached out and pushed a stray piece of hair away from your eyes.

 “I think I might be, too.”

[yuusa]

-ˋˏ 𝐔𝐧𝐜𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐚𝐬𝐭ˎˊ-

         -ˋˏ 𝑼𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝑻𝒉𝒆 𝑷𝒂𝒔𝒕 ˎˊ-

                 ✧ 𝑪𝒐𝒅𝒆 𝑽𝒆𝒊𝒏 𝑴𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

·  ·  ·  · ✦ 𝑺/𝒐 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒉𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒈𝒉 𝒑𝒓𝒆𝒗𝒊𝒐𝒖𝒔 𝒎𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒘𝒉𝒊𝒍𝒆 𝑳𝒐𝒖𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒓𝒊𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒐 𝒕𝒊𝒆 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒔𝒆 𝒆𝒏𝒅𝒔 𝒐𝒇 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒊𝒓 𝒑𝒂𝒔𝒕.

𝑺𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚: 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒖𝒏𝒄𝒐𝒗𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒆𝒈𝒊𝒏𝒏𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒐𝒇 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒖𝒏𝒊𝒗𝒆𝒓𝒔𝒊𝒕𝒚 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒑𝒂𝒕𝒉𝒔 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒌 𝒊𝒏 𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒐 𝒈𝒆𝒕 𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒕𝒐𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝒀𝒐𝒖 𝒂𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒘𝒊𝒕𝒉 𝒚𝒐𝒖𝒓 𝒐𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒘𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒍𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒅𝒆𝒂𝒕𝒉 𝒐𝒇 𝑪𝒓𝒖𝒛 𝑺𝒊𝒍𝒗𝒂 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑶𝒑𝒆𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝑸𝒖𝒆𝒆𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒚𝒆𝒓.

Your eyes widened as you watched your former self stand outside the hospital room, their back pressed against the door as they listened to the conversation from the other side. A man and woman’s voice communicating with each other with a loving tone, albeit one sounded much more somber and remorseful than the other. Your old self clenched their fists together before slowly walking away from the barrier between the rooms, making their way down the halls with a grim and bitter feeling left on their heart. 

You followed them down the hall until the light grew dimmer, the blacks of your surroundings engulfing your vision as it slowly cleared up once again. Your former self held their head high towards a man of great power, his muscular arms crossed over his chest as you stood firmly in front of him. 

“So. . . You want to join the military. . . For what reason?” He asked, raising one of his thick white eyebrows towards you. Your former self restrained a gulp as you brought your arm behind your back, your (e/c) eyes peering up at him. 

“I. . . I want to be involved in the Revenant process.” You replied, clutching your fist behind your back, “as a medical student, I would like to be personally there to further develop my research.”

He delivered a faint smile, filled with sympathy, while his eyes softened, “you’re not afraid of leaving anyone behind? Your family? Friends?”

“No,” the faint calling of your inner self wailed in disbelief at your word choice. The air around you grew colder as you watched your other body stiffen with hesitation but pulled themselves together, “I believe that I am more than capable of taking on this job to further help with the Revenant development.”

“I heard you declined an offer to work alongside a research facility for the BOR Parasite, why have you chosen to join us instead?”

The former you eyed him with strict determination, “I believe that this will lead me to a greater path that will benefit me more than that previous offer.”

The man’s smile grew much wider than before, his eyes closing for a brief moment, “you got a lot of courage to waltz into my office for such a demand. . . I’ll see your skills on the research facility and battlefield. Prepare to live up to that bargain.” 

He reached out to you with his bulky arm, his hand gesturing towards you as you raised your arm. The two of you shook hands before the scene faded to black. You pressed your lips together at the scene, unable to form any words to say towards your once forgotten past. 

You continued to walk through the path that was slowly rebuilding itself, watching the scenes from the sidelines as your old, human body explored the different uses of the parasite. Eventually. . . After the news of your former friend’s death at the hands of the woman dubbed “Queen”, you decided to take matters into your hand by turning yourself into a Revenant. After years of research, you’ve seen your own capability scores well enough to prove to the white-haired man that you were a capable fit. 

The memory began to blur and twist into a new one, showing you resting on a medical bed with a peaceful expression. Your eyes widened slightly at the sight of the parasite slowly coexisting with your heart while the man on the other side of the deal loomed over your sleeping body, waiting for your awakening for you to prove your worth. 

As time passed, your old body groaned as they lifted themselves from the bed, touching their heart as they looked up at one of the doctors who hurriedly gathered the attention of the others to proceed with your medical check. They winced slightly at the sudden pain they felt within their head, a sudden thirst growing within their throat as they looked up to the white-haired man. 

“So. . . This is what it feels to be a revenant. . .” The former you said, looking up to the man in surprise. 

“Welcome to the military (Y/n) (L/n) you’ll be placed in Sector 5 with the others. Do not falter when your journey has just begun.”

You wondered about the origin of this memory. It was much different from when you entered the battlefield within your previous vestige, you were much more naive and inexperienced yet your eyes told a much more different story within the old vestige. You wanted to know more about the scene with the hospital, to understand more of the feeling you saw when your old self turned away from the ones she formerly called friends. However, time was short as steps formed at the bottom of your feet, leading you towards the opening door that blinded you with light.  

You were met with the face of Io, her eyes filled to the brim with concern as she touched the side of your cheek, a cold liquid coating her fingers. 

“Your memory. . . It made you. . . Sad. . .” She whispered, your face showing a hint of grimace as you tried to pull yourself away. 

“It’s not that important Io.” You replied, slowly guiding her hand away from you as you forcefully wiped away the remaining tears. You forced a smile while she responded with a blank expression, unsure about what to say to truly comfort you in the situation. 

“Sorry, I’m going to the baths to relax, we have a long mission ahead of us.” Io stayed silent as you turned away from her, the sounds of your footsteps leaving the area of her bed as you made your way towards the large door leading to the warm waters. 

You brushed back your hair, sinking in deeper into the waters as your hand held onto your white towel. You dipped the lower half of your face under the water, leaving you with enough space to breathe through your nose as you looked out to the broken, ruined city. The lights of burning areas filled the dark skies, the stars shining down as the cries of the Lost echo in the distance. 

You inhaled a deep breath from your nose,  tilting your head back towards the upper levels of the sky. The memories from your Vestige was still deeply ingrained within your mind, your undead heart pulsating with curiosity as you wondered about the bitter feeling you once experienced. You didn’t know why the dark-haired man felt so familiar to you, or why the woman’s voice from the other side sounded just like the Queen. You didn’t want to assume that it was the memory you’ve experienced with Louis, it wouldn’t make sense for you to be there. . . Would it? 

You had once never given thought to the idea of you being a bold medical student, your life on the battlefield was the only one you could truly see yourself living as. Your past was slowly unraveling but you couldn’t believe the sights you were seeing. They were hard to put your faith within but you couldn’t deny the fact that you heard your voice from the shards. 

The sound of the water rippling filled your ears as you saw the black-haired man dip himself into the steaming liquid. His bare, lower body was merely hidden away by the same white towel you had wrapped around your (s/c) skin. 

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Louis asked, leaning against the stones which were lining the edges of the hot spring. 

“My muscles are surely relaxing now after that long exploration we had,” you replied, brushing aside the wet strands of hair that covered part of your vision, “it is nice to have a break here.” 

The two of you sat in relative silence, merely a few feet away from each other as you avoided his gaze. Louis silently stared at you, unsure of what to say after his encounter with Io before he came into the hot springs. It seemed as if Io was growing extremely concerned about your wellbeing ever since you asked her to store a certain vestige for you. 

He has not discussed with you his complete past as he was nervous to bring up something as irrelevant as his medical school journey. However, the doubt that sat at the pit of his stomach grew with each passing glance at you, wondering how many years it has been since he last saw you during medical school. 

He had brought you along to check with Cruz’s medical status but you were forced to stay outside by the other doctors, being told that you weren’t a close figure to Cruz. Although he had the chance to reject the other doctor’s decisions, you merely nodded and watched as they closed the door in front of Louis and Cruz’s bed, locking you away from what seemed to be a friendly visit. 

He couldn’t believe that the day he saw the door close, you would vanish. You had pulled out of medical school to be enlisted as one of Silva’s lower level researchers for the military before finally being promoted after your rebirth. Being shocked at your appearance at the cave sent shivers down his spine, it was a mere coincidence that the two of you would cross paths again like you once had in school, your eyes slightly dulled out and an unfamiliar look is given to Louis. 

Although he wanted to bring up the memories of the past with you, he feared that perhaps your disappearance was for the better for your slowly decaying heart which was being eaten away by sorrow. Perhaps you had left him for a good reason. . . This thought made him feel uneasy as he continued to watch as you stretch your muscles in the bath, your warm breaths mixing with the steam as they floated to the dark sky. 

“(Y/n). . . Can I ask you about what you saw?” He cautiously asked, clutching his fist underneath the hot waters, “if it's not too much to ask that is.” 

“Sure. . .” You pressed your lips together as you looked towards him, “I was a former medical student. . . Waiting for a friend I presume.” 

Louis stared intensely at you, the air growing slightly tense as you parted your lips, “I left for the military shortly after to work under Silva. . . I guess that's when I became a revenant and I woke up to take a position. . . That was the end of it.” 

“Did you see anything about who you were visiting?” He asked, albeit with a tinge of hesitation within his voice. 

“Not really. . . Their voices were a bit muffled but it was a male and female so. . . Does that help with what you need?” Louis slowly nodded his head while you responded to his actions with the same gesture. He watched as you rose from the waters, your hair dripping with the warm liquid as they slid down your skin. He couldn’t tell if his cheeks felt hot from the atmosphere or if it was his slowly blossoming feelings for you. 

He began to feel guilt for his emotions towards you, especially after his relationship with Cruz which he assumed tore the two of you apart. After meeting up with you at the cave and witnessing your skill, he wondered at first if you retained any memory with him but it seems as if fate was cruel enough to erase those memories of university. Although he knew that parts of his memory were lost, something about your presence never left his visions, it was a strange and surreal experience to meet you after several years. 

He desperately needed to bring up the crumpled image hidden away deep within his pockets but he couldn’t bring himself to show you painful memories. He merely watched as you left through the door.

You exited the bath, leaving your room to properly dry off your hair. You dropped the white towel onto the floor and began to change into your dry clothes, using a spare hair towel to wipe away the remaining waters. You didn’t understand what you had done to catch the attention of Louis within the hot springs, but you were beginning to think it was because of your memory restoration. Perhaps he was connected to your memory in a way. . . That hospital room must have not been a coincidence then. 

You groaned, throwing yourself onto the bed and burying yourself within your pillow and blankets. You clutched at the area of your heart, still feeling the ache you received during the restoration. You shook your head in frustration, it was simply a memory but it made you angry to see how vague your vestige was. You wanted answers but you knew with time, you will come across another vestige that may provide you with answers, maybe even to the ones you wanted to ask Louis in the hot spring. 

You slowly closed your eyes, forgetting the hidden gaze from behind your bedroom door as you fell asleep, your body exhausted and melting into the bed.

Louis trailed behind you, following in your footsteps while Yakumo eyed his body motions, noticing the way his movements have become much more hesitant and restrained, almost as if he was trying to reach out to you. Yakumo reached out to his shoulder, whispering next to his ear as everyone continued down the dusty path. 

“What's going with you? You’ve been looking tense lately,” Yakumo asked, Louis’s eyes widening in surprise. 

“You. . . Noticed?” 

“Obviously, we’ve been as a team for a long time already. What’s on your mind?” The red-haired man leaned his two-handed sword on his shoulders, the weight of his weapon seemingly so light compared to the strength of his arms, “there must be something on your mind if you keep staring at them.”

Louis brushed aside his hair with his gloved hand, keeping a steady grip on his weapon, “I. . . Do you. . . Know how to approach someone you used to know?” 

“Hm? Well. . . If I haven’t seen my old buddies for years. . . I’d give them a bone-crushing hug of course, but I guess that’s not possible for you, is it?” Louis shook his head as Yakumo hummed, “I guess you could try to ask them if they remember.” 

“But. . . What if they don’t remember at all?” Louis replied, gripping the handle of his sword tightly, “what if. . . They didn’t want to see you anymore? What would you do then?” 

“Then I guess you should try to make it up to them or something, does this involve (Y/n)? Did you know them from before they were a revenant?” Yakumo watched as he nodded towards his question, his sharp eyes nearly bulging out of his skull at the realization, “wait. . . So how do you remember them?” 

“I don’t know exactly what the reason was. . . But the only thing that was left in my pocket at the time of my awakening was a class photo,” Louis pulled out a thin sheet from his back pocket, Yakumo peering over to see that you were standing with the rest of the class, smiling brightly and happily, “I guess an object like this jogged my memory or something.” 

Before you turned around to face the group, Louis snuck the photo back into his pocket, not wanting to reveal to you the hidden truth of your past due to his doubts. He worried that if you were to find out the reason why you left, the relationship that you built with him would change. There will no longer be shared gifts or exchanges, the warmth of your friendship would be replaced by what he assumed to be anger and disgust towards him. 

“Is something wrong?” You called out, the rest of the group looking towards you casually while Louis and Yakumo stiffened. 

“Nothing, we were looking at the edges to see if there were any spots we missed out on,” Louis lied, covering the tracks of his discussion with Yakumo quite fluidly to the point you merely nodded in response. However, as your group reached the location, a faint voice could be heard. 

“You’re really funny Louis. . . Did you already finish your assignment already?” 

Yakumo tilted his head around, “(Y/n), are you talking to Louis right now?”

“What? That wasn’t me. . .” You observed your surroundings, noticing the piles of boxes lined up at the edges of the area. The soft voice of your own called out to you, edging you to find it quickly, “it must be a nearby vestige. . .”

Louis remained calm as the rest of the group began to search through the area, breaking through the surrounding boxes to reach the origin of the voice. He didn’t want to outright tell you not to search for your own memory. . . He was simply paranoid about what they were about to witness. 

“I’m sorry. . . I can’t do this anymore. . .”

You broke through one of the larger containers, at the center was your glowing vestige, your own voice calling out to you as you reached for it. The shard pulsated slightly, tempting your hand as the voices grew louder. Louis tried to reach out to your shoulder but you had already had a firm grip on the shard before your surroundings became engulfed in bright light. 

Everyone was met with the halls filled with only two people, one with black hair and the other with (h/c). The two of them stuck by each other’s side, laughing and smiling in joy as if they had known each other since forever. 

“The teacher spent hours cleaning up after one of the other student’s pranks, I couldn’t believe they got away with that kind of stuff,” the former Louis laughed, “it would be pretty nice to play some tricks on some of the older teachers with that level of confidence.”

He and you walked down the halls of a university, textbooks, and notes shoved within your arms as you chuckled. The sounds of your footsteps bounced off of the walls as your group watched you and Louis interact. Your hands felt clammy at the sight of Louis and your old self talking, not once had you believed in the chance that the man who caused this aching pain would be Louis, your own team leader who promised to watch your back. 

“You’re really funny Louis, did you already finish your assignment?” The old you waved around your textbook in your hand, “frankly I’m not even done with my paperwork yet, I’m still annotating the document about BOR Parasites.”

“Eager for the knowledge I see. I already finished my assignment but I can always give you a copy of it, just in case your research paper on the parasite gets too overwhelming,” he suggested, “I heard from the other teachers you were getting a recommendation from a research facility. Do you plan on going there during the summer for their course?”

“You’re a real lifesaver, Louis,” they smiled, their grin stretched across their face with visible joy, “can’t imagine a life without you having my back. . . About that research facility offer, I had to turn it down.”

Louis looked back at them as if they had grown two heads, “why? That would have been a great opportunity for you.” 

“What do you mean why? We were going to have summer with Cruz, aren’t we? I don’t want to abandon you guys for something like research,” you laughed, “besides, I want to be sure of my own abilities before jumping into something as big as joining a group of researchers.” 

“Dedicated aren’t you? Thanks for having our back, I know I could always count on you being by my side,” Louis smiled, a soft tinge of a blush appearing on your cheeks as you rolled your eyes, trying to play the situation coolly. 

As the memory faded away and the road in front of you began to rebuild itself, you felt your blood grow cold. 

“. . . Did you know about this Louis?” You asked, turning towards him with a shocked expression, “were. . . We really classmates?” 

You could see the way his movements faltered slightly, the twitching of his hands proving to you all that you needed to know. You pressed your lips together at his lack of words but continued down the path, trying to piece together the memories you had once forgotten. As you made your way downwards, your memory began to reappear once more. 

The former you stood in the same hallway, except it was empty with only your body left. In the distance, Louis walked with Cruz to the next class, laughing and you had once believed that perhaps it was better not to mettle in their long-built relationship. You feared that by expressing your feelings towards the man, it would tear apart your own friendship and might even destroy the one he had with Cruz, especially if they were in a relationship like you assumed. 

To be honest. . . I was scared to know that Louis and Cruz were together, the former you monologued, If I were to tell him. . . I found that it might do more harm than what is to be expected. 

Maybe is it for the best that I leave them alone, the old you held onto their heart, I don’t want to burden Louis as much as I already have. 

So the former you stood alone in the hall, staring at your distant friends laugh together. One’s eyes filled with love and adoration while the other smiled gleefully, the other stared at them with a hurt expression. 

“I’m sorry. . . I can’t do this anymore. . .” They muttered, gripping onto their hair in frustration, “I promised to be by your side but. . . I don’t think I can do it.” 

“I’m sorry, Louis.” The leader standing next to you gripped his fists tightly. 

How could he be so foolish to your own feelings? 

You quickly walked ahead, eager to see the next clip of your missing life. Your footsteps echoed in the empty room while the rest of the group followed you close behind until they reached the final part of your vestige.

The old you was sitting in an office chair, exploring and revising many of your documents regarding the parasite until the door burst open with a sweating coworker. In his hands was a new document covered slightly in dust and blood, alarming you greatly to the point you stood up from your chair, knocking it over in the progress. 

“W-We have a discovery, a new one! It’s urgent as well!” The man cried out, “the BOR Parasite fused with the host body, she already slaughtered everyone within the hospital facility! It was a genocide I tell you! We should leave now and evaluate our next plan with Silva!”

Your former heart shattered into pieces, tears filling the corners of your eyes as you listened to the man franticly explain the horrific event. 

“What? The hospital?!” You grabbed onto his arms tightly, an expression of disbelief mixed with sorrow, “was. . . Was Louis there? Louis Amamiya, he’s 20 years of age, he is a close partner to Cruz Silva!”

The man shook his head, “if he was at the hospital then I’m sure he’s already gone, we need to hurry and deliver these documents to Silva!” 

The memory warped once more, showing you standing in front of a grieving man you knew as Silva. He had his arms crossed as he stared down at you. 

“You’re making a new proposal. . .” He muttered. 

“Yes.”

“What is it that you want to do now?” Silva asked, eyeing your strict form, “where will you go now? Are you going to stay with us or return home to grieve?” 

“I. . . I want to become part of the new Operation Queenslayer. I’ll become a Revenant if it means. . . I’ll protect everyone else left behind,” you bit the bottom of your lip, feeling your blood drip from your skin. 

I don’t even know if Louis is alive. . . Perhaps there is a chance that he too became a Revenant but it was a slim chance that I was counting on, the group listened to your silent monologue that echoed from within your memory’s mind, however. . . If there is a chance that he is still alive, or at least sleeping as a Revenant. . . It’s best to complete Operation Queenslayer to protect what is left of him. 

I’m sorry Cruz. . . I can’t let you go on like this, the old you said, . . . I’m sorry. . . Please forgive me, Louis.

The door slowly opened, revealing the light of the outside world. You stood there, completely stunned at the realization that your former friend and old love would be the man you encountered deep into the caves. 

“So. . . You really did know Louis from the past. . .” Mia said, reaching out to touch your shoulder. 

You slowly nodded, unsure of what to say in the situation that would soothe your still aching heart. Your eyes turned to Louis with a heartbroken expression, “did you know about this the entire time?” 

He spoke no words.

[kindrednerdspirit]

Sometimes a Thing Feels so Right: Part 4

Excerpt: This revelation, however, is not without its issues, because Casey now finds herself in the tricky situation of knowing it’s best to avoid private moments with Iz, but she also wants private moments with her.

Monday, first block. Casey’s perspective.

It’s 20 minutes before track practice starts and Casey has one goal: avoid any potential private moments with Izzie. Her decision is influenced by her most recent talk with Elsa. In a bizarre turn of events, the universe decided Casey would connect with Elsa on a deeper level twice in one week. Their first talk about Casey’s grandma helped her understand Elsa’s helicopter parenting and why she gets, well, annoyingly intrusive. Their second talk was an accident. A host of Izzie feelings reached a boiling point for Casey and her Izzie issues spilled out in front of Elsa.

For context, this is how it all went down:

The smell of roast fills the Gardner house. Sam works at the kitchen table as Elsa takes dinner out of the oven. He is sketching a new piece for his art class. 

“Sam, honey, do you mind telling your sister that dinner is ready?” Elsa asks as she cuts the roast.

“I do mind. I have to finish this sketch by tomorrow.”

Elsa is not surprised by her son’s very literal answer. He had been in flow for hours, sitting in the same spot since he got home from class. This is not a battle she wants to take part in, so she walks up the stairs to get Casey. Strangely, the door is ajar by a few inches. Curious in a way that any parent is interested in their teenager’s “secret” life, Elsa peers in before announcing dinner is ready. Casey is lying on her bed, curled toward the wall and sniffling.

She acts like she hasn’t been spying, and quietly knocks. “Case, dinner is ready.”

“Uh, sure. I’ll be right down.” Casey’s voice is soft.

Don’t meddle, don’t meddle, don’t meddle. Elsa repeats the phrase over and over in her head as she walks back into the kitchen and takes dinner into the dining room. A few minutes pass before Casey makes her way downstairs.

She sees Sam drawing at the kitchen table. “Why aren’t you eating?”

“I need to finish my sketch. It’s due tomorrow.”

“So, take a 10 minute break, eat, then finish it.”

Sam avoids eye contact and looks at the table the entire time he speaks. “Professor Shinerock says you have to find your peak time to achieve flow. My peak time is in the afternoon around 2:30, so this is when I have to start working on my art, because it’s when I’ll be at my most creative and productive. Professor Shinerock says to continue working in flow state for as long as possible.” 

“You know what else helps creativity and productivity? Not starving.”

“Of course, starving ruins creativity and productivity, because you’d be dead!” Sam tilts his head and furrows his brow. “That’s a ridiculous thing to say.” Without another word, Sam puts on his headphones and returns to his sketch.

“If you’re not eating by the time I’m done dinner, I’m pretending you’re an egg.” Casey walks away with a smile, knowing that Sam did not hear her warning. She sits at the table with Elsa and starts helping herself to potatoes. The two sit in silence for a minute, save for cutlery clanging against their plates.

“Sweets, I know I shouldn’t meddle--”

“So don’t.” Casey finishes.

“--but I’m just going to say one thing, then nothing else. Promise.”

Casey rolls her eyes but let’s her mum continue. Elsa takes a deep breath to collect herself. “You just found out that UCLA is interested in you, but you seem sad. And you haven’t had Izzie over in weeks, you mope around the house, you’re unexpectedly crotchety...”

“Mum!” Casey groans. “Please, get to the point.”

“I don’t know if Izzie is jealous about UCLA scouting you, but whatever is happening between you two... it will sort itself out. Try not to fret too much.”

Casey stares at her plate and pauses to mull over her mum’s words. “How do you know?” She’s afraid to look at Elsa. Afraid that if she does, all her emotions will flood out.

“Because of how you two look at each other. It’s special.” Elsa smiles, reflecting on when she first met Doug. When they first met, they shared the same long stares and goofy smiles as Casey and Izzie. Boy, that seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Thanks.” Casey is surprised by her mum’s kind words. “I don’t know if it will, though.” Her voice cracks. She shuts her eyes, because she can feel the tears forming. Elsa practically leaps out of her seat to embrace her daughter. She kisses Casey’s head, then soothingly brushes back her hair with her fingers.

“She’s… embarrassed to be seen with me.” Casey murmurs.

Elsa nods, knowingly. “I’m sorry, love.” She tucks a strand of hair behind her daughter’s ear. “Not everyone is as confident and comfortable with themselves as you.”

Casey smiles sheepishly and swipes away the tears. Of course, Elsa feels protective of Casey. She doesn’t want anybody breaking her daughter’s heart. At the same time, Elsa also understands Izzie’s situation to a certain extent, making her feel like a protective momma bear toward her, too. They have the shared experience of growing up with an absent parent, and perhaps, similar insecurities. Not to mention that both Casey and Izzie are just beginning to understand their sexual identities, so it's not surprising that this self knowledge is leading to difficult feelings.

Elsa is suddenly very grateful for reading up on parenting tips for LGBTQ+ kids. She chooses her next words carefully, so as not to imply to Casey that she knows about Izzie’s home situation. “Give her time, hon.” 

“I think I love her.” Casey sniffles.

“I know.” 

“Love who?” Doug walks into the room looking for dinner. He just got back from work, and somehow slipped into the house without the girls noticing. The question hangs in the air a few beats too long.

“Uhm, Izzie.” Despite not wanting this conversation to happen in this moment, Casey looks her dad in the eye.

“Yeah, I love her too!” He grins and pulls out a chair, completely oblivious to what is going on. Casey is not sure what to do, so she looks at her mum. The two watch as Doug happily sticks a fork into the roast beef, then proceeds to scoop carrots. The girls stifle some laughter. Maybe it’s best to let this one slide, considering Casey and Izzie’s relationship status is currently unknown.

“What?” Doug asks after noticing the girls’ looks.

“Nothing, Dad. Girl stuff.” Casey looks at her mum as she says it, knowing it will mean something more to her. She then grabs her plate and excuses herself from the table before dropping her dishes in the sink. Sam is still in the kitchen, completely absorbed in his art.

“I warned you!” Casey shouts. “Prepare to be egged!” With that, she scrambles onto Sam’s chair and sticks her butt on his head.

“Hey, stop! What are you doing?!” Sam protests.

“Don’t blame me. You’re the one who compared me to a penguin, so now, you’re my egg.”

“Why would that make me an egg? That makes no sense! You ruined my flow!” They continue squabbling, wrestling, and yelling.

Meanwhile, Doug looks at Elsa with a bemused but impressed expression. “Girl talk? Really?”

Elsa cannot help but beam.

***

Needless to say, when Casey found herself stretching on the field 20 minutes early, it was a calculated move. It’s amazing how saying something out loud can make things so clear. Once she told Elsa that Izzie was embarrassed to be seen with her as her girlfriend, something clicked. Casey could never pretend to be just friends with Izzie, it would never work out. She simply wasn’t the type of person to pretend, the type to play a role, even if it meant keeping Izzie close. 

This revelation, however, is not without its issues, because Casey now finds herself in the tricky situation of knowing it’s best to avoid private moments with Iz, but she also wants private moments with her. 

While she works on her quads, Izzie jogs past and veers off to stretch on her own. She’s wearing the tight Adidas shorts that show off her beautiful curves. Casey always considered her own muscular legs to be tall and lanky, but Izzie’s… they were shapely in all the most appealing ways from her legs to her hips. The same hips she held onto whenever she pulled Izzie close. She fit so comfortably in her embrace, with her delightful warmth and faint smell of vanilla beans.

The best part was when Iz was really close and her chin would dip up. Casey would look down and see the same desire in her eyes as she felt all over her body. A shiver would go down her spine, her breathing would quicken. And everything else would just, sort of, disappear. Fade off into the background. Iz would smile, showing off her button dimples and Casey would want to devour her right then and there for being too adorable.

Oh. My. God. Casey! You have one job. Actually, two jobs. No private moments with Izzie and no getting turned on by Izzie because it’s a slippery slope, my dude. Quick, think of gross things. Zahid kissing Gretchen? Zahid in a robe? Ew, ew, ew! Too far. Poor Zahid. I love the guy for being Sam’s friend, but he’s a serious vagina mood killer.

Izzie looks up from her stretching and their eyes meet. She has the longing eyes and Casey knows exactly what she wants. Shit. It’s too hard, so she looks away. Much too hard. The rest of track practice follows a similar pattern of eyes meeting and diverting. 

***

After 60 minutes of failing miserably at ignoring Izzie, Casey is relieved when Coach blows the whistle. She hustles to the locker room with a few other teammates. Casey is talking to another teammate when Iz jogs over, her high ponytail bouncing with each step. She cannot help but disassociate from the conversation, because she sees the infamous Adidas shorts. And just like that, she’s done for. Blood rushes toward her southern regions. The Zahid tactic fails. Once again, Casey curses her body and heart for betraying her brain. 

“Yo, Newton! Wait up!” Iz shouts.

At the sound of her voice, Casey wavers for a millisecond. She decides to continue listening to her peers, pretending not to hear. But Iz is persistent. Casey’s words from the other night with Elsa race through her head.

She’s embarrassed to be seen with me.

The words are upsetting. There’s so many reasons why, it’s hard to pick only one, but she mostly feels frustrated. Frustrated that she cannot hold or kiss Izzie in public, that she cannot share her love with the world, despite their mutual feelings. Worst of all, she feels the immense hurt that comes with knowing she cannot pretend to be just friends. She hates that it has to be all or nothing. But to do otherwise, would be to betray herself. All these complicated emotions build up inside her until she finds herself towering over Izzie.

“I don’t know how to make this more clear. I don’t want to talk to you.”

Her cold tone surprises even her. She watches Izzie’s eyes widen, then feels her heart clench in response. Despite everything, her instant reaction is to make Iz feel better. And she easily could. Casey could slip her arms around her, up to the small of her back. Then, she could gently pull Izzie toward her and lean in. She could hover in front of her lips to tease Iz, the two sharing the same, delicious air.

“I--”

“Please, don’t follow me.” Casey cuts off Iz with a firm response. She gulps--that was close. Her feet hurry toward the locker room, whisking her away as quickly as possible. She hated feeling like an overdramatic school girl or like she was in some terrible rom-com. Big deal. Just be friends, right? At the same time, though, she knew there was no other way.

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: ITS FINISHED WHAT THE FFUCKK 7000+ WORDS THIS IS A BEAST. ENJOYY!!! :DD Thank you for all your support!

Fem!MC in this is the guitarist/lead vocalist of the rock band PARANOIA! She also went to the same middle school as Konoha, but because she’s deemed as a prodigy, they didn’t get to talk so much. I hope you all enjoy the interesting take I’ve put in MC’s personality!! :))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 1 - overture.

word count: 7287

warnings: slight angst, a lil’ bit of manipulation

(n.) an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera, suite, play, oratorio, or other extended composition

You’re not the type of person to care. Things flitted over your head so easily like they’re nothing more than a light breeze. But were you an airhead? Not exactly. President of the Light Music Club and one of Fukurodani Academy’s prized minds, people sought of you as a genius or a prodigy. But you never really understood what they meant.

Weren’t you just a high school student like them?

You just got bored very easily. That’s all there is to say. Sure, you hopped between multiple clubs and interests in your first year, but wasn’t that initial year your chance to discover yourself? At least that’s what your parents told you. And you did! Eventually. The Light Music Club was the only club you felt the most interest and where you could be your fanciful, “blunt” self without everyone else worrying about you.

What’s up with that, you asked yourself much too often to be comfortable. Worrying’s for old people like parents, or grandparents or even middle-aged women who’d found no hope for love. Exams are temporary, people are temporary, and if they’re going to last for only a while, why think so much about it? You could never get why everyone made being a high school student so complicated.

But it’s kind of frightening. Being a high schooler but not completely understanding what it means. What were you then? Maybe you were just as “alien” as everyone called you. Put yourself in other people’s shoes, was what you were often told by your bandmates when you’d told them about your woes.

“I’ve decided!” you announced today as your bandmates slash club members sat around you in a circle. “I’m going to get a boyfriend.”

“...L/N, this ain’t another one of your social experiments, is it?” your drummer Reo sighed, exasperation dripping in his voice.

“Yes, and no,” you said, crossing your arms. “Reeeooo, it’s not wrong for your little ol’ club president to find love, right? Besides, I’m already a second year, it’s only a matter of time until I graduate. So why not make full use of it now?”

Bassist Iori exchanged a glance with Reo before chuckling deeply. “Always the unexpected one, huh, Taichou*? Alright then, you have our full support, this is bound to be funny at a point.”

“What is your type anyway?” the first-year keyboardist Tsumugi (occasionally MugiMugi much to his dismay) asked. “Right now, I mean... Since you switch between interests so quickly, senpai.”

“Well it’s neither of you, if you’re curious. Reo’s got a girlfriend already. Iori-kun’s too stingy. And MugiMugi seems like the kind of guy who’d get married to his own mom.”

“Oi, senpai!”

It was true. They heavily reminded you of your three older brothers. And you were thankful to the heavens that they all decided to move away once they graduated high school. One more ounce of “brotherly defense” and you were sure you were going to run off to live in some live house.

“Still not sugarcoating your words, I see. But I’m glad you’re not going to force us to date you, ” Iori muttered, finding interest in the pegs of his bass. “Do you even have someone you like? You seem to be, uh...”

“Very much married to your guitar,” Reo followed. Your drummer and his short-cropped hair was particularly quick to catch on cues and make a humdrum comment about it. It’s very obvious that he tries (keyword: tries) to empathize with you, but the fact that you just become a deeper enigma everyday just pisses him off.

You frowned, getting up from your rickety chair. “Lennon-chan is a very valuable item to me, but I won’t stoop so low as to marry it! I’m interested in a human. Hu-man. We went to the same middle school, so if you were thinking that my affections are baseless, then think of another question for me to answer.”

How unbelievable. You didn’t understand how people thought you were less of a person than they were. You have a set of lungs, human skin without a zipper that opens up to your Martian scalp and a teenage heart for another to hold. What’s so hard to believe that you were able to like something long-term?

“So, who is it then?” Tsumugi asked.

Tapping your finger on your chin in mock wonder, you gave them an impish grin. “Konoha Akinori.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Second-year student Konoha Akinori was not a big fan of surprises. He only enjoyed them when he was surprising the person. Other way around... not so much.

Which was not aiding to the reason why he was standing at an impasse with Fukurodani’s resident free-spirited prodigy L/N Y/N.

Your eyes twinkled brightly as you edged closer to him in the school’s near-empty courtyard. “Hello, Konoha-kun.”

“H-hello, L/N-san.”

What was going on? Why was this happening? Was this some sort of prank Bokuto had pulled on him? If it was, then how unfair. To have the prettiest girl in their grade approach him so suddenly... The entire thing reeked of craftiness, and Konoha resolved that Bokuto wouldn’t have gone so far to pull his leg. But why was this happening, again?!

“L/N-s-san, you’re a bit too close,” he choked, back pressed against a wall. Much to his gratefulness, you pulled back to let him breathe. If you had advanced one more step, he’d turn into an oversized tomato soon. Konoha Akinori the Human Tomato—that didn’t look so good on his college applications...

This girl’s danger, he thought. He knew about you. Heck, he even went to middle school with you. Sure, Konoha appreciated your beauty and talent as a person, but your alleged habit of jumping around interests just because “you were bored” terrified people to no end. You were a troublesome one, weren’t you?

“Konoha-kun, is it true you have a crush on me?”

Troublesome! Konoha cursed. His first real confrontation with an attractive girl and it had to be completely direct? No frills, no shoujo sparkles? How unpleasant. At least you shouldn’t pin him to a corner wall like this! Konoha just wanted to melt into a puddle and become absorbed into the soil.

“L-L/N-san, a lot of people have a crush on you!”

“I know. But I’m asking you. Do you like me?” your poised smile was the photograph of absolute nuisance. Blunt this, blunt that, was the way people described you, but Konoha never expected you to be this plain-spoken. Was there even a right answer when it came to your questions?

“L/N-san, you can’t just ask me something like this! I-I mean you’re pretty and smart and everything, so of course I had a crush on you, but isn’t this a little too late for that?”

Konoha swore your shoulders drooped at his words. But even that slight action was enough, to form a small incision to his heart. Just how human were you to have so heavy of an effect on him?

At that point, he was sure you were going to give up and leave him alone—possibly looking for another boy to meddle with... Until you chirped again in your nonchalant manner.

“But do you still like me?”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Then, why don’t we find out?”

‘Find out’? This was getting increasingly complicated. Out of all the people you could’ve trifle with, why did it have to be him? If only you were just more cute, instead of just plain out... surreal.

“We can go out for two months. You can find out if you do still have feelings for me, and I can learn why people make high school love seem more complicated than it should be,” you explained, counting off your reasons with a raised finger in each hand. “If it doesn’t work out by then, we’ll break up and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

In the silence that followed, Konoha was registering the information that had left your lips. Your words glitched in his mind like his mother’s old computer; always loading, never processing. There were so many questions he wanted to ask you, but he’d expected you to fling them back with more perplexing questions of your own. So he said nothing. In the silence that followed, he didn’t notice the glower that surfaced on your features as he let your offer dangle in the wall of space between you.

“We can go out and you can make Bokuto-kun and KomiKomi stop harassing you about being lame when it comes to girls.”

“How—” No. He wasn’t going to ask how you had his entire case figured out. Because he knew whatever reply was going to come out of your mouth was just going to be an indifferent: “It wasn’t a difficult process”. At least, Konoha knew that much about you.

Of course, the feeling of having a girlfriend—and someone like you, surprisingly—was going to be more than enough to rub into Komi and Bokuto’s faces. In fact, they’d leave him alone for eons if he did!  It was a tempting deal, and he ached to shake your hand and get it over with. But your own motives... “Complicated,” you’d said. The way you’d said it to him was almost pitiful. Konoha guessed you really did live on a different wavelength than other people.

Still avoiding your anticipating eyes, he replied, “Give me time to think about it.”

You didn’t particularly enjoy being forced to wait—not because you were an impatient person. “Thinking about it” only blooms ambivalence in return. And the longer someone thinks, the more doubtful they’ll become of their genuine resolve. If Konoha became cynical of the truth, your little ‘investigation’ would definitely go awry. What would happen to your ‘love’ then?

“Alright, but don’t take too long,” you spoke, raising your hands to your hips. “I’ve got your number so I’ll send you a text and you can save mine.”

Watching you spin on your heel and your back slowly shrink into the horizon, Konoha did a double take, finally taking in your final words to him.

“Wait, how’d you get my number?!”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned your head. Shooting him an impish grin, you broke the short absence of noise, and all at once Konoha really felt like he was in trouble.

“It wasn’t a difficult process,” you said.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“That’s...” Sarukui rolled the zipper of his jacket between his fingers before deciding on an appropriate word, “...very unsettling.”

In the privacy of the boys’ club room, Konoha crossed his arms. He’d made a face, just enough to border between pity and discontent. “Unsettling’s right. Do you think she’s a creep for just having my number like that?”

Tapping his chin with his index finger, the lax-faced boy replied, “I mean we are in the same grade. And she was class rep in our first year too, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if she just had our numbers kept with her.”

From the corner of the room, Washio rumbled, “She’s actually not that bad. Though I admit she’s very strange.”

Turning his attention to the burlier male, Sarukui put his hands together, “That’s right, you’re in L/N-san’s class, aren’t you?”

“I remember that time she offered to lend me her World History flashcards because I forgot mine,” Washio recalled, moving towards the center of the room. “It was great for a while since she’s the smartest person in the class... but then...”

“...Then?”

“It didn’t matter because I couldn’t read anything she’d wrote on it. There were a couple of cards where she wrote backwards and all while she kept switching between kanji, hiragana and katakana mid-word... A prodigy’s brain is truly terrifying.”

Even though the story was rather amusing, the three only let out a despaired sigh.

“Aah, but it’s true that Y/N-san’s a really nice person,” a voice piped up behind them.

Their manager Yukie silently trudged into the carpeted floor, her usual skittish smile broadening against her face. The four second-years pooled around the room, one visibly concerned, the other confused, the third conflicted and the last... slightly hungry. Drawing out her breath, the hungrier one explained.

“She doesn’t seem like she has any bad intentions to me, it’s just that she tends to look into things too much... I mean, Y/N-san always gets to the point without any reason for her actions. But that’s because she doesn’t know how to explain it in her own way. If you think about it... don’t you think she’s actually really shy?”

‘Shy’ had no business with the way you’d confidently strode up to him, asking for Konoha to go out with you. Though he was blatantly thinking of the fact that you’re just messing with his head, Yukie made a point.

You’d barely made any friends in middle school, always separated from the crowds... but you’d react like it didn’t matter. You were always on a different wavelength with the special treatment the teachers gave you, so he hadn’t bothered to talk much with you either. The whole time you were so quiet back then, was it because you were trying to understand the situation?

Now Konoha felt really bad for calling you a ‘creep’. “Geez...”

“Hey, hey, hey! G’morning!”

Like the heavens had heard his woes, they sent him Bokuto for God knows what reason. Barreling inside the club room, the wing spiker was an untamed ball of energy and mischief that Konoha didn’t want anything to do with right about now.

“Y’know, a couple of girls approached me today at lunch. I was super shocked and everything,” Bokuto trumpeted, unravelling his tie. “My chances have grown pretty big since I started using my straights, don’t you think?”

“Not bigger than your head, I hope,” the blonde scoffed.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Bokuto laughed raucously enough to make the entire room silent lest for the drop of a pin. Slinging an arm around Konoha, he poked at his sides making the boy flinch and jump.

“Heey, Konoha-kun... You don’t have to be so mean when you’re jealous~” he grinned. Konoha rolled his eyes in retort. “You’ll get your big chance one day.”

Bokuto’s attempt at being passive-aggressive was just so Bokuto that anyone in the right mind would’ve found it extremely annoying. Konoha didn’t even know if he was even “jealous” anymore; the entire concept of having the ace constantly pester him everyday for the rest of his life for being so lonely was exceptionally haunting.

And to think that he’d constantly thought the things that came out of Bokuto’s mouth could be genius... maybe it had just been provoking. Blood boiling. As the others stifled their quiet snickers, Konoha reached for his pant pocket, the stiff outline of his cellphone taking the shape of his palm. Perhaps he could humor you. Just this once.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Good morning, Aki-chan!”

Snapping his head quick enough for whiplash, Konoha’s widened stare locked itself on your beaming profile. Putting two and two together, he reddened at the affectionate name you had gifted him.

“L-L/N-san, you don’t have to call me that...”

As you bent down to slip your outside shoes from your delicate feet, the boy couldn’t help but to ogle at your tantalizing figure, but quickly averted his gaze once you smirked at his actions. Keep it together, teenage hormones! he scolded himself.

“Why not, though? I mean, we’re dating now. You can call me by my first name too if you want, you know.”

That’s right. Fueled by the frustration he’d harbored for his friends, Konoha took the action of texting you back, saying that he’d taken up your offer. Your reply was nothing short of innocent giddiness and delirium that he’d felt the searing tightness of regret in his chest.

But it wasn’t like you wouldn’t be able to see through his intentions soon enough. If anything, you’d even brought it up during your “confession”. You’ll be fine, Konoha had convinced himself. Like the rumors said, if you didn’t like it, you’d probably just leave. You knew that much, at least.

“I don’t think couples immediately start calling each other by their given names on the first day they go out. Besides, isn’t this just a trial run?”

“You’re supposed to get the entire experience in a trial run, right?”

“Well yes, but—”

“Don’t you want to get as much out of two months as possible?”

He’d almost forgotten about the limited time he’d have to use you against Bokuto and Komi before you mentioned it to him again. Two months is long enough, he thought, the effect will last even longer if they knew I was dating L/N-san.

“Right, L/N-san.”

“Y/N.”

“Um... L/N...chan?”

“Y/N-chan.”

“Anyway!” Konoha slammed the door to his shoe locker for emphasis, privy to his crimson cheeks. “Homeroom’s about to begin. D’you want me to take you to your class on my way?”

You looked up at him placidly, “Class 5 is on the end of the hallway though... Won’t that mean I’d be taking you to your class?”

Moving behind you to give you an encouraging push on your shoulders, your new boyfriend sighed hurriedly, “Yes, yes. Let’s just go already, L/N-san.”

And like it was your birthday, your face lit up like Christmas lights. Pulling the arms that rested on your arms so it wound securely around your torso, you looked over your shoulder to send the flushed second-year a grin.

“Oookay! The Aki-chan-Y/N-chan train is leaving the station, hold on tight~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

The face Iori gave you made you think your lungs would fall off from laughing. Your light-haired classmate blinked twice before realizing that his knife was close to grazing his finger. Giving the fragrant chocolate one last slice, the bassist turned to you for affirmation.

“Taichou’s cheating on Lennon-chan... How daring...”

Veins popping from the grip on the rolling pin, you leered at him from where you were standing. “Do the three of you still think I’m married to my guitar?”

“Of course—Ow! Don’t hit me with a pin if you know I’m right!”

“Now, now, L/N-san, Tsuyoshi-san, don’t get too excited about making cookies back there,” your bearded Home Economics teacher (who’d heavily reminded you of an endearing bear) guffawed heartily, before turning to the left side of the class in utter concern. “W-wait, Shirofuku-san, don’t directly eat the dough!”

Nudging you with his elbow, Iori whispered, “So... two months? How do you know the guy’s not just using you to get back at the Volleyball Club?”

Turning on the tap, you let the cool torrent of water pool in your hands before replying to your bandmate earnestly.

“Oh, he is using me to get back at the Volleyball Club. I figured it out when he texted me back. ‘S not a big deal, though.”

Iori’s shoulder drooped in melancholy. It was sad, on the verge of plain out pathetic. You were his friend, for Heaven’s sake. Yet, he knew you were lonely. Of course, he felt eternally relieved that at least he and the rest of PARANOIA could temporarily lift that despondency from you. But due to God’s intent, neither of them were fated to completely understand your dispositions. And for that, he lamented behind the wall that the world planted around you, unable to reach out nor sympathize. If this Konoha guy was your last resort to your long-term goal of universal comprehension, then it better not be a big deal.

“People say it takes about 2 to 3 months to fall in love with a person. If these two months don’t turn our relationship in the path we want, then... I don’t care if we break up too. It wasn’t like I expected much from myself in the first place.”

“Taichou...”

In the solemn silence that followed your words, your nose perked up at a certain toasty smell coming from behind your friend.

“Iori-kun, the chocolate.”

“Don’t change the subject. You need to consider if this “relationship” will really make you happy.”

“Iori-kun, it’s burning.”

“I know despite your flaming desire for love, you—Aagh!! My chocolate! Taichou, why didn’t you say anything?!”

You scratched your nape as you watched your frantic classmate splash the bowl of darkened chocolate with a flood of cold water, kindling plumes of sweet-smelling smoke to rise softly in the class.

Happiness. You frowned back at Iori’s words (as the latter sobbed at his valiant efforts in scraping his overly-meticulous work from the steaming bowl). I’m already happy enough though.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“L/N-san... You don’t have to follow me to lunch on the first week,” Konoha grimaced at the girl trailing behind him through the staircase.

“Why not though? We’re—”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rustled, “We’re dating. Yes, yes... But don’t you usually sit with your band during this time? Won’t they ask where you are?”

You hummed hopping down the last few steps before turning around gracefully in front of your boyfriend. “Mm... I think they’ll be more thankful they’re getting a day off from me. Don’t worry though, I won’t say anything if I don’t have to!”

Oh boy.

“L/N-chan’s at our lunch spot...” Bokuto murmured blankly.

Amongst the burly volleyball players eating their lunches in the courtyard, you seemed like a dainty flower about to be devoured by a pack of Titans—as if you weren’t the more threatening one in the bunch. While the familiar third-years gawked with their heads short-circuiting in your presence, the meek first-year setter politely bowed, his obvious ignorance of you surfacing.

“L/N-chan’s eating lunch with us...” you watched Bokuto aimlessly mumble against the yakisoba bread in his mouth.

“Bokuto! Don’t go to the light! W-we’re sorry about this, L/N-chan,” Komi shook the owl-headed spiker in his trance. Thrusting his own box of food towards you, he reddened. “P-please have some of my sausages as an apology, O’ Great Deity!”

Sarukui pulled the libero back by his blazer, sending the boy flying backwards with his bento still thankfully intact. “Hey, Komi, don’t just suddenly ambush a girl like that... Say, L/N-san, you want to try some of my tamagoyaki*?”

“Saru, you leech!”

Anyone who was passing by could indefinitely tell that this group of people was undoubtedly hazardous. An overly-excited Bokuto who had sparks and smoke coming out of his head, an apprehensive Akaashi trying to calm their spiker down, Komi and Sarukui wrestling over their lunch boxes, a bulky but terrified Washio who was slowly edging away from the crowd, a Konoha who was gradually regretting his choices and a L/N Y/N, though seemingly frail, was able to create chaos with a bat of an eye.

Watching the entire ruckus go down, you did feel a bit bored. Gaze flickering to your side, your mouth watered, “Ooh, Aki-chan, is that spicy konnyaku*?”

“Huh? Yeah, you want some, L/N-san?” your boyfriend said, offering you his food nonchalantly.

Dipping your chopsticks into his box, you flashed him a beam brighter than any sparkling night. “Thank you for the food~ Mm, not spicy enough...”

In the silence where you chewed the stinging cake, the Volleyball Club’s bedlam had finally subsided. Their star-struck gazes at you replaced with incredulous glares at Konoha who proceeded with his meal in peace.

“‘Aki-chan’...” Komi repeated. “What’s going on with you two?”

Leering in mischief, Konoha grinned. Chest puffed out like a breasted bird, he set down his food before taking your hand and raising it for the rest to see. At the warmth of his hand, you couldn’t help but redden from the blood that rose to your face. Moments like this really did remind you why you thought he’d seemed so attractive from the beginning.

“Oh, I haven’t told you yet? We’re dating,” he smirked, making sure that he drew out each syllable, prolonging his announcement as much as possible.

“Huh?!”

Dwarfing the previous catastrophe into the size of an ant, the boys went frantic again. Even Bokuto who’d seemed so shocked by your attendance, snapped out of his daze from the outrageous amount of disbelief.

“E-eh?! Konoha and... L/N-chan... no way. That doesn’t make sense... something’s not right...”

You smiled behind the soft pads of your fingers. Noticing Konoha’s worried gesture, you played along, much to his delight, “What is it, Bokuto-kun? You also have girls surrounding you. What’s so different?”

“Ehhh? Lost your chances, Bokuto?” Konoha continued, the smirk on his face growing wider.

“Dammit! The Great Deity’s going to get stained... she’s going to get stained...” Komi wailed.

“Bokuto-san stopped breathing! Konoha-san, do something!”

He felt like it had rained after years and years of a drought. Refreshing. Cool. Satisfying. The same people who’d teased him for lacking a ‘chance’ was now melted in the head from his relationship. It was exactly how he wanted it to be. And you played it out so perfectly for him. A beautiful ‘girlfriend’ with a heart of gold.

Sighing, Konoha smiled at your giggling face. He wondered. For someone so advantaged and strange, you only seemed like a high school girl to him right now. Just his ‘girlfriend’ for two months. Not the genius L/N Y/N, not the zealous musician L/N Y/N. Just... L/N Y/N.

The shrill shriek of a chime brought you to wake, as you pulled him up from his seat while snickering. “It’s getting very loud here, isn’t it? Come, Aki-chan, I’ll take you to class again.”

Tightening his grip on yours, he gave you a knowing nod before following you to escape the scene in a trail of laughter. As the bell subsided in your wake, you didn’t even realize you’d arrived at the second-year hallways. And all that while interlacing hands.

Quickly retracting your hand, you sheepishly glanced at your shoes, “Ah, sorry. You probably don’t want to have that much physical contact so soon.”

Damn, if you were already pretty with even a poker face on, seeing your blushing face took the cake. “N-no, it’s fine. Thanks for backing me up back there. I don’t think anyone would’ve believed me if you didn’t say something.”

Tilting your head sideways, you said, “It was getting a bit dull, so I was glad we made it more lively. You’re very entertaining, did you know?”

“And so are you, Y/N-chan,” he smiled, ruffling your hair.

In the light of the midday sun, Konoha Akinori was blind to his own natural appeal. It was unfair and admittedly cool of him to just ensnare you with a dazzling twinkle, all while taking you by surprise with a reposeful call of your name. Your middle school classmate who’s now your temporary boyfriend... you just wanted to have him all to yourself forever.

He couldn’t deny it. You were magnetizing. Attractive in a way that lived beyond beauty and intelligence. Konoha couldn’t believe that someone so strange would make his chest go tight. It disappointed him that it would only be temporary. Once the two months expired, you’d treat him like no more than a stranger. But just this once, he wanted to relish this quiet moment with you.

Suddenly, like an iron wall had emerged from the ground between the both of you, your phone rang. You didn’t know if you felt relieved that your embarrassment was interrupted or were you annoyed because of it.

Quickly reading over the text, you smiled eagerly. “Ooh! Iori-kun finally finished the reservations for the live house!”

Konoha had almost forgot you were in a band. A rock band that consisted of you and three other male members. Lips faltering, he bit his tongue. They’re her bandmates, Akinori! What are you so jealous for? It’s not like you’re her real boyfriend or anything...

“Got a performance coming up, L/N-san?”

“Yep! It’s our first anniversary show since we formed PARANOIA,” you said, trailing off before a light bulb flickered in your head. “Do you want to come and watch? It’s in a few months.”

And like a cupid had shot his heart, Konoha found himself with a ticket for one to PARANOIA’s Anniversary Concert by the end of the day. Concert tickets that would expire the same day as your relationship.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

If you could list down all the things that happened this past few months, you’d probably end up describing it as “adventurous”. Even for you who’d expect a couple things or two from the start, the things you could do while in a relationship took you by surprise most of the time.

Little by little, your boyfriend had opened up to your usual audacious advances. Compared to the cuter, more nervous Konoha who you approached two months back, this Konoha was more bold, and vivacious. And unbearably even more attractive than you’d hoped he’d be. But he was considerate as usual—though you wished he wasn’t, because this ‘modesty’ of his was especially embarrassing on your end.

His friends slowly got used to your presence (while Bokuto was still slightly dazed from your relationship status). You came to the Volleyball Club’s practice matches, both under Konoha’s request and your own bored intentions. And it came to your attention that he flaunted his feathers more vigorously when you were around. Fukurodani’s Jack-of-All-Trades, Master of None... was much more of a show-off than you’d thought. How amusing, you’d think.

On the other hand, your bandmates had kept hanging on to their belief that you were still easily aroused when it came to your guitar (though you were very sure that it was more of a teasing gesture than their own immature stupidity). For this reason, you’d dragged a pale-faced Konoha to your practices in the Light Music Club more often than he’d hoped. He was your stamp of proof that even you had standards—a terrified-looking stamp that flinched whenever Reo spoke to him.

“Reo, you ever thought of putting on a Precure shirt on when you talk to people?” you’d said to him one day, as Konoha’s ears perked up from your conversation.

“No,” the drummer had replied vacantly, giving his other bandmates a boiling glare when they stifled their giggles.

“Ehh? Why not? Your gorilla face is just too intimidating for the world to get used to, so if you wear a shirt from the cute anime you love—”

“L-L/N! You promised to never say I liked Precure out loud! K-Konoha-san, please forget about this!”

And that day, you’d seen Konoha laugh. A genuine laugh not laced with nervousness or pity. A laugh caused by your own honest-to-morbid humor. It had been a pretty laugh. And Konoha admitted he hadn’t laughed so freely in such a long time.

There was also countless things he’d never done in such a long time, and all that was revived in a mere two months with you in tow. Eating spicy hotpot with you until his lips grew swollen, visiting a CD shop to spam all the music players in the store to play the same song, teaching someone to serve a ball, studying together in the library (though he ended up studying much less with your intricate rambling). Your penchant for boredom made you seem brighter to him. And Konoha began to wonder if it was a crime to finally realize he had feelings for you, even when he’d used you to get his friends off his back.

She’s better off not dating a jerk like me, he’d decided.

But it hurt. It was like a thousand daggers had pierced through his heart every second he thought that it’d be over soon. It hurt to admit that Konoha thought you were funny, pretty, smart and so goddamn endearing.

He loved you. He loves you. But just because he does, doesn’t mean you do.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Thank you for your support for this past year! Please continue to give PARANOIA your love for the following years to come!”

Your throat felt hoarse from the singing, but as soon as you stepped inside the dressing room, it was all squeals and giggles again. Even the high-strung Tsumugi, forehead shining in sweat, was jumping up and down with an equally excited Iori in his embrace. And for a while, Reo seemed much softer than his usual demeanor.

“Reo-kun~ That a smile on your face?” Iori teased once the four of you had settled down.

“Shut up, ‘Ori, you’re grinning like an idiot too,” he shot back.

Tsumugi piped up, untying his tie from your stage outfits, “It’s good that we’re smiling, isn’t it? We played really well, we should at least appreciate ourselves for that effort.”

Moving towards your unsuspecting underclassman, you poked him behind his ear, amusedly watching him flinch and swat your hand away. “Ah, MugiMugi’s talking like a wise, old man, but that totally contradicts how much you were hopping around during our last song, right? Young people are cute, aren’t they?”

Blushing profusely, he scoffed, “Don’t call me cute when you have a boyfriend. That’s just troublesome, senpai.”

And like the devil had ushered for him, a knock sounded on the door. Reo, closest to the entrance, swung the door open and gave their guest a pleased smile.

“Ooh... it’s Konoha. Thought it’d be my admirers or something,” he muttered in a mock pout.

“Ehh, you have plenty of admirers out there, Mizushima-san,” Konoha chuckled. “But I’m here for your guitarist.”

When Reo, Tsumugi and Iori moved out of your way to rush to the exit to “leave the both of you alone”, you placed your hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders. “Say, Aki-chan, let’s go on a date right now.”

“Right now?! Where?”

“There’s an arcade nearby,” you chirped before leaning over to whisper flatly into his ear, “It’s our last day. Let’s make it count.”

He nodded, but his face faltered at your forced grin as you led him out the door in your typical “Aki-chan-Y/N-chan train” fashion. Last day, huh? That’s right. Konoha had nearly forgotten about it. And the fact that you’d brought it up panged across his chest. This “train” of yours could just be the last time he’d ever be so close to you. The real you.

After that, nothing.

Determination crowning his face, he grabbed your hand as you exited the live house and rushed to get to the arcade as soon as his legs could carry him. Too soon. Two months passed by too soon. Not yet. Not yet.

It couldn’t end like this.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“For someone with really good analytical senses, you suck at claw machines.”

You elbowed his side, laughter bubbling from your lips. “Look who’s talking! You looked like you were going to eat me when I scored a point in that air hockey game.”

Stopping in his tracks on the quiet sidewalk, Konoha winced at the memory. Perhaps he should’ve held back, considering you were a girl. But that would’ve been a stupid move altogether, knowing that you’d expect his moves. Konoha won anyway, much to his surprise—but only to have the game spew out a total of zero tickets before you realized the machine was faulty.

“What did you get with your tickets?”

Rummaging in your pocket, you pulled out a plastic package with a silver chain glinting inside it. “A souvenir for you. Mm, if I had more tickets, I would’ve gotten you a rice cooker or something~”

Taking your offering, Konoha raised his eyebrows. “A flower necklace? Shouldn’t you keep this sort of present? I mean, you won it and everything—”

“Keep it. It’s a gift for putting up with me this entire time.”

“Ah... thanks.”

Konoha wanted to say something. Anything to make the moment last. Alas, nothing. You didn’t say anything either—not like you could. It’s over now. Everything has ended. Did you grow to love him in the end? You didn’t know.

“It’s... getting a bit late. We should go home,” Konoha said. Though he wished he didn’t. “I guess this is goodbye... Thanks for being my girlfriend, L/N-san.”

You said nothing in reply as he slowly turned his back to you to leave. It was a temporary thing, things that come and go. And he’d used you to his own advantage against his luckless friends. But why were you so worried about his goodbye? You’d pulled off this entire thing in hopes to feel a romantic love that you couldn’t comprehend. It was supposed to be fluffy and heart-pounding like your mother and your brothers’ manga had described it to be.

But it was painful. Like a skyrocketing jolt of pain that nearly made your knees buckle. Why? You didn’t even know if you could love someone when you’ve been isolating yourself for so long... You loved your family, you loved your band, but did you love Konoha? You didn’t get it. What’s with that...

“I don’t understand...”

Hearing a quiet sniffle with a familiar lilt, Konoha spun around to be met with your teary gaze. And it was like the entire word had been sucked into a meaningless void, and the both of you were left to inhabit this desolate world.

“H-hey, L/N-san... d-don’t cry, come on,” he rushed to your aid as more tears rolled down your cheek soundlessly. Oh, how Konoha wished he knew how to comfort a crying girl. “Look, I’m here. I-it’s okay, it’s okay. Agh, I’m not very good at this... um...”

“I’m sorry I made you do this,” you wept. “I’m sorry I forced you into dating someone you don’t like. Everything’s all wrong...”

“Y-you don’t have to apologize! It was fun, everything was fun with you,” he blabbered, hands rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I-it was my fault too... I just wanted to get back at Bokuto and Komi that I—”

Crap, he said it.

“I knew you were using me for that. I’ve always known.”

Konoha froze. Of course you’d find out, he’d established that point the moment he texted you in agreement. But something about your revelation made it feel like he had committed homicide. He really just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I thought I wouldn’t mind if you broke up with me since you’d accomplished your goal... but I’m so upset. You used me but you treated me well. You used me but you made me feel loved. You don’t seem to have any feelings for me, but you made me like you... like like you. I don’t get what you’re trying to do. Konoha-kun’s so confusing...”

The entire time you’d been making him feel butterflies in his stomach... you were trying to understand him? Konoha frowned. Gutting any residual feeling of doubt, he grabbed a plastic package in his coat pocket and shoved it in your hands.

“You don’t have to understand anything if it makes you happy!”

Your blood ran cold. He’d never shouted at you. But the determined expression on his face urged you to open the package sitting daintily in your palm. It was the same chrysanthemum necklace you’d given him. Was he giving it back? No... this necklace was slightly different from the one you gave him.

“I got it for you when you were out to the restroom. I was planning to confess to you with this after our date, but you made it seem like you didn’t like me. What’s with that, huh? Of course I like you! You don’t think I regret using you for a petty revenge every single moment we went out? When you made it so hard for me to not fall for you?”

Konoha couldn’t even hear the words coming out of his mouth. Whatever they were, he hoped he got his message through to you. Good and honest. Honest and true. Panting, he watched your tears slowly subside.

Wiping the droplets with the sleeve of your jacket, you weakly punched him on the chest. “You’re an idiot for falling for me.”

Ruffling your hair, he sighed, “That makes two of us. Idiot.”

As the silence dwindled, you played with the hems of your skirt as you spoke quietly, “So, are you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Confess.”

“Ha... now? Right here?” he groaned with a cheeky cadence.

“Don’t mess around. I’ll definitely cry again if you don’t do it.”

Chuckling, Konoha pulled back from you with the necklace he’d gifted you back in his hands. “Yes, yes. How bossy...”

He bowed. In the middle of a public sidewalk. But it didn’t matter, because whatever was going to happen next was in your control.

“L/N Y/N-san! I’ve always liked you since middle school when we were on cleaning duty together and you helped me erase the blackboard. My feelings died out for a while because I thought you’d be too distracted to acknowledge me, but after two months of your “trial experiment”, I’ve grown to like you again. So please! Go out with me.”

“Ehh... that was much blander than I’d thought...”

Suddenly, Konoha knew how Reo felt when he’d wonder whether or not you were giving out enlightenment or backhanded comments. Clicking his tongue, he crossed his arms. “How would you do it?”

Proudly clearing your throat, you bowed as he did. “Konoha Akinori-kun, the ignorant fool from Class 2. I’ve come to realize my feelings for you. Though I don’t remember the ‘you’ from middle school, I’m glad you were there to remember me anyway. You were right. The time we spent together was fun; I don’t think I’ll ever get bored with you around... If you will, please accept my humble feelings. I want to keep understanding things with you. That itself would bring me the greatest joy in the world.”

“That... that was actually pretty good. Though, let’s talk about the part where you called me an ignorant fool—”

As Konoha spoke, you reached into his pocket to extract the necklace you’d given him earlier. Placing it in his palm, you smiled warmly, relishing in the blush that dusted his face. “I’ll be in your care, Aki-chan.”

Slipping his own necklace into your hold, he clasped your hands together. “So will I, Y/N-chan.”

And like déjà vu, your stomach rumbled loudly. Embarrassing, you groaned.

Taking one hand in his, the both of you walked through the sidewalk. “Wanna eat? I’ll pay.”

“...Sichuan hotpot*...” you said under your breath.

“No way! I’ll end up with diarrhea like last time. We’ll just eat fast food...”

“Ehehe, Aki-chan can’t handle spicy food~”

“Y/N-chan, pick on me one more time and I’ll split the bill.”

As the two of you burst out in laughter, your arms swung back on forth against the course of the wind. Neither of you even thought of letting go.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“K-Konoha’s wearing a flower necklace... Dude. If you have a secret you want to tell us, we can always financially support you...”

“Bokuto, I don’t know what ridiculous things are going on in your head, but I know they’re absolutely wrong.”

Buttoning up the last button of his shirt, he slipped the silver chain behind the fabric, it’s steel coolness imprinting itself near his tepid heart. Noticing the faint chirps of little sparrows, Konoha turned his attention to the light streaming from the west-side window. Autumn’s here.

“Hey, are you going to eat with L/N-san again today?” the ever-smiling Sarukui called for him from the door.

“Ah, yeah. She said she wanted to show me a new song she was working on.”

Chuckling, his friend let out a long breath, “Lucky you.”

Konoha smiled. Lucky indeed, he thought as you waved at him from where you stood below. In the green of the plush fall grass, yellow, pink, red and white blossoms surrounded the courtyard where you’d first approached him. Yellow, pink, red, white, and two silver chrysanthemums to welcome the new season.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

taichou - captain/leader

tamagoyaki - japanese rolled omelettes

konnyaku - japanese yam cakes

sichuan hotpot - a REALLY spicy hotpot with sichuan peppers