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spitpr1ncess · 3 years ago

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Can I Call You Sir? / Nanami Kento x Fem Reader

--“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”--

Fucking bullshit.

You stare at the graded paper before you and seethe from the inside out. An F? A fail?! But you’d studied relentlessly! The only thought you were having was how your mother was going to kill you when she finds out, you can practically hear her shrieking, “I’m paying heaps of money to put you through university and this is what you have to show for it?

Professor Nanami is writing something that looks vaguely recognizable on the chalk board, his tall but slim body looking oddly out of place at the front of the long classroom as you glare holes into the back of his blue shirt. There wasn’t a single person you hated more than him in this never-ending moment. You yawn and allow your head to fall heavy onto your crossed arms, hiding your shameful test results. You could listen to Professor Nanami with your eyes closed based solely on the fact that you would be failing the rest of this term if your test results were anything to go by.

The rest of the lesson passes quickly as you fall victim to maladaptive daydreams, playing out every single scenario where you approach Professor Nanami and question his harsh grading. You aren’t a stupid girl, in fact, in every other class you were smashing your target or hitting above. What was this mans problem? You imagine slamming your paper down in front of him, arms crossed and little foot tapping the floor. “Do you hate me?”, “So you have favourites?”, or just a plain “what the fuck?!” were among the favourites you’d rehearsed. His face was cold as stone as he stared back before licking his lower lip and smirking, pulling his glasses atop his head, causing a pretty ripple in his hair as he stands absolutely towering over you. A large thumb lifts your chin to look at him as his eyes bore into you. Then his lips are on yours.

Wait what?

What?

You’re roughly pulled from your daydream by your hair as a pair of polished brown shoes stand at the foot of your worn school desk and a voice beckons your name. Professor Nanami is stood less than a foot in front of you waiting for an explanation. You shoot bolt upright in the uncomfortable wooden chair as your entire body feels like its been zapped by an electric fence. You can feel the blush in your face spreading to your ears as you push the strange daydream to the back of your degenerate mind.

“Sleeping through my lectures will not help you fix that broken grade, Miss Reader. Do you understand me? Or do I need to put it more plainly? It can’t be easy with a simple mind like yours, but I’m sure we could find a way to help you absorb what I’m saying.” His eyes are cold as steel and boring into your soul, he doesn’t even blink, he’s like a robot. You hold his gaze before risking a look around the classroom revealing that it is completely empty, not a soul to be seen, brilliant. So not only had you failed your test but you’d also voluntarily agreed to extracurricular activities whilst daydreaming about kissing your Professor, it sure was a great day to be you.

You panic, how were you going to salvage this? You needed to think quickly, but nothing was springing to mind.

Clearing your throat and calming your nerves you begin, “sorry Professor I didn’t get much sleep last night, I have a lot going on at home so am finding it difficult to participate in classes at the moment.”

You are?

He lets out a small snort as he sits at the edge of your desk, peering down at you through his glasses, a look of judgement plasters his incredibly chiselled facial features, he is beautiful, and you’re happy to admit that, whether or not it could get you in trouble.

What?

“Your lies won’t cut it here, you’re excelling in all your other classes, algebra, languages and biology. These are not easy subjects and geography is a breeze in comparison, so why are you failing? Are you doing it on purpose?” Your attention is drawn to his strong throat and his Adams apple lifts and falls again as he swallows and you wonder if he is anxious about approaching you, not that he has any reason to be.

You feel anger bubble in your throat as you argue back, “I’m not a liar. I’m having trouble concentrating here. Your teaching, the class size, the fact the class is the last of the day, maybe you’re grading me too harshly! Have you considered that? Nobody else failed, so why did I?!” Your voice is shaking now and your knuckles are white as you push your nails into your palms, drawing blood. Professor Nanami looks at you for a moment before standing and heading back to his desk at the front of the class where he picks up a piece of chalk and some papers and begins to write.

“Question one is on plate tectonics, lets begin there. Would you care to explain the theory to me?” He turns and gives you a weirdly friendly smile, you calm your nerves and take a breath, opening your paper and looking at your answer, you read out the sentences you had written and cringe as you allow Professor Nanami to correct you, taking notes on his tutoring. Your personal four o’clock class finishes at just past seven as you both wrap up the test paper and Nanami wipes the board clean.

“In future Miss Reader, you come to me when you need help. You’re a smart young lady really, you know that, so put your brain to use. You’re going to do great things after your course is up so don’t discredit yourself over one failed paper.” He sits at his desk and waves his hand to dismiss you. “You’d better go now, I’m sure you have a worried boyfriend wondering where you’ve gotten to so late in the evening.” He pushes his glasses onto the top of his head, much like in your daydream, and you appreciate how good he looks for a moment. He’s aged yes, around thirty yes, but still gorgeous. You know the girls at University fawn over him, fighting to get even a slither of attention, and here you were, in a private tutoring session of your own, and without even meaning to.

You ponder the boyfriend comment before packing up and heading for the exit, deciding to test the waters you address him, “I don’t have a boyfriend Professor you see I simply don’t have time, and anyway, none of the boys here are mature enough to interest me.” You turn and give him a smile as you catch his gaze flitting up from where your stockings meet the fat of your thighs, you roll your eyes at him and shake your head as you sigh and leave for the night.

This was an interesting development.

Sleep washes over you as you awaken in your dream. Professor Nanami is sitting before you, he beckons for you to sit on his lap, you oblige and as you nestle against his chest, his fingers find the edge of your stocking, he traces lazy patterns on your thigh, eliciting a small sigh of pleasure from you. He nuzzles his nose against your cheek and plants a soft kiss against your neck, he pushes your soft hair behind your ear and begins to litter kisses on your sensitive lobe.

“Sweet thing, you smell heavenly, I just want to devour you.” He whispers. You throw your head back and invite him to suck and nip at your exposed throat, completely vulnerable in his arms you entrust him with your entirety. He groans as you manoeuvre your little waist to create friction with the fat of your ass and you’re met with the impossible hardness between his legs, this moment between the two of you feels like fireworks, everything is at a standstill and there is nothing but your two bodies, completely entwined, obsessed with each other’s perfect anatomy. You continue to explore each other physically as you mewl and sigh rhythmically, nothing has ever felt better than your Professors loving touch on your absolute innocence. You’d been with boys yes, but never a man like Nanami.

“Nanamin,” you cry out as he finds the hotness between your legs.

“Sweet girl, I’ll take the best care of you, just relax.” he speaks like sweet poetry from his mouth that tastes like the most expensive organic honey. Your breath hitches as he starts to disappear, you reach out but he is no longer there.

You jolt awake as you feel wetness pooling between your legs, the hotness and lack of friction so unbearable you are torn from the dream of all dreams.

Fuck, this is weird now.

Daydreaming about your Professor wouldn’t be the worst thing if you weren’t now absolutely sopping wet and grinding against your own mattress. You dare to slip a tiny hand under the waistband of your pants and give a little release to yourself, it felt unreal, and without realizing you were picturing him as you drive yourself to the edge and jump off head first. You’re picturing his pretty features and strong hands, his soft lips and authoritarian stare. In your head he’s praising you, “sweet thing, sweet girl” he says. You shudder as you come down from the satiating high and allow shame to encase you completely, rolling over, you stare at the screen of your phone.

5:38. A notification flashes from last night.

baby nobara: maps said you left uni at 7! wtf were u doing?? ps, shopping tmorrow?

You open the notification and type a quick reply.

you: was just studying, nothing important hahahah. sure! meet me at 11?

With that, you roll back over and let sleep nestle you gently between her arms.

It’s twenty minutes after your planned meet time that Nobara turns up, and holding a Krispy Kreme bag full of donuts and a doc marten tote housing at least one new pair of shoes, she’d obviously done a pre-shop, not that it was particularly out of character for her. Her gentle face is plastered with a mischievous grin as she runs and embraces you like two sisters might embrace after a long time away from each other’s presence

“I had to warm up before we got started!” she laughs at you, and all is forgiven in a matter of seconds. You’re both giggling as she opens the bag and makes you a peace offering of a strawberry donut, you eagerly accept as you discuss what shops you want to hit up today. You both spend hours browsing, trying on and chatting about everything, you don’t get to see Nobara often as you have alternating days on campus and your schedules clash horribly so the times you do spend together are cram packed full of mischief.

You’re walking past a load of stores as you approach Victoria's Secret and you immediately flash back to Professor Nanamis eyes on your stockings last night and his comment about your supposed boyfriend. Cogs are turning in your mind but before you have time to make the connection, you’re being dragged in, you have no objections and are pleasantly surprised by the variety of lingerie this particular chain of store holds. You pick out a few different numbers including a black corset body suit and a matching garter with stockings, you knew the reason for picking it out was completely inappropriate but it didn’t stop you from taking it to the counter and paying nearly 100 dollars for it. You grinned as you schemed yet another daydream waiting for your friend to decide on the bits she wanted.

You both decide on a little sushi place for lunch and as you fill your mouth with miso Nobara asks, “Who are you fucking? It has to be someone at university, that’s why you stayed so late, right?” The question completely winds you as you try not to choke on your food. Your eyes are watering as you try to explain that it was just extra-curricular studies. Nobara nods and rolls her eyes, “You don’t have to lie to me, I’ll find out sure enough.” She laughs as you pray she lets this go, shovelling some nigiri into her mouth she waves you off. “Chill,” she says as you allow your heart to slow in your chest.

You give her a hug as you finally part ways and she ruffles your hair, “See you around”, and with that she’s gone. You begin the walk home as you reflect on the events of today, you reel as you come to the realization you spent 100 dollars on a lingerie set for a man over ten years your senior who would less than likely ever find out you’d bought it. Unless.

No.

You shake the thought of trying to bait your own Professor after barely scraping by the last term, expulsion for indecent behaviour seems somewhat worse, at least you think. It also doesn’t seem good for Nobara to now suspect you have something going on with somebody, she has to know all the top gossip and you don’t doubt she will find a way. Now that you think about it, you should turn your phone location off. You know your friend would stalk you for the sake of some scandalous news she can tease you about. You giggle to yourself, you and Professor Nanami, what a thought.

The bell rings as you finish washing your hands, you stopped to use the bathroom before your final class of the day, Geography. You’d been anticipating this class, having chosen the black corset body suit with stockings to match, you’d paired it with a mid-length black satin skirt and an oversized cardigan, it was enough to feel comfortable in, and not break any regulations but enough for Professor Nanami to notice, which was just perfect. You wanted to test the waters after his comment and wandering eyes, you’d had time to stew over your awful test results and were wondering if maybe he was a little harsh with the grading. Either way, today would tell.

You hurry up the stairs and down the long corridor to the classroom where he lectures, there were around 30 students already settled in class and you could see your Professor writing on the board. You slip in quietly and take your seat at the back of the class, you shed your cardigan, giving a frontal view of your chest and begin to take notes. You ensure you pay full attention to todays class, not taking your eyes off the man at the front of your lecture room. You meet his gaze a few times and you sense him trying really hard to not allow his eager eyes to flit downwards, you wish for him to give you anything more than a feeling to go off of but he’s stone cold and hard as steel. As the class draws to an end Nanami dismisses the students and you wait until the room has emptied before you walk towards his desk. You wait for him to address you.

“Miss Reader, can I help you with something?” he doesn’t meet your gaze and instead continues typing something on his keyboard, you’re frustrated with how nonchalant he’s being, how you’ve probably misread the entire encounter, how you’ve created a whole reality from nothing.

“I, I was hoping maybe you would assist me with some questions I have from the class today Sir, if you have time of course.” If he wanted to play games, he would get games, you might be younger than him but you’re not stupid.

“That’s okay, you’ll have to give me ten minutes whilst I finish this email, then I’m all yours. Feel free to take a seat.” He motions for the first desk in the front row and you roll your eyes as you decide to make a stand. You pull a chair from the side of the room to Nanamis desk and sit directly opposite him, you take out your textbooks and begin to lay them out on the space behind his computer, sitting down you cross your legs, brushing his shin with your shoe. You’re sure you see his jaw tighten, but he plays it off by cracking his neck, the loud crunch distracts from the tension filled silence and you lick your bottom lip in anticipation.

He finishes with his email and pushes the computer screen to the side of his desk then leans back in his chair and loosens his tie slightly, he catches you watching the space above where his shirt is buttoned and smirks, “So what questions do you have sweet girl?”, it’s an innocent enough question but you’re walking a fine line and need to be careful. You make idle small talk about today’s class for an hour or so before asking your Professor to quiz you, it’s a shot in the dark but you’re hoping he will catch on.

“I’ve been revising, ask me any twenty questions, if I get them right you can pass me for that test!” you grin, proud of the compromise you’d come up with.

“It’s a good idea, but what if you get questions wrong? Does the fail still stand?” he laughs quietly, like he made a personal joke that only he understood, he allowed his eyes to trail down to the black floral lace encasing your chest, it wasn’t overly provocative (you were in university after all) but it was enough to make his mind wander. You test the waters again, trailing a finger over the top of the hem, outlining the soft of your breasts, Nanami shuffles in his seat and adjusts his legs, brilliant.

You allow your Professor to test you, answering all questions and waiting for each correct answer like a patient puppy, sitting for its master. At the end of the test you grin, over the moon with yourself for showing him you deserve a passing mark.

“I told you! I told you I shouldn’t have failed. You were definitely marking me too harshly!” You brush your leg against his again, and he doesn’t make an effort to move himself, he drinks you in through the round frames of his glasses that are sitting pretty on the top of his nose.

“Sweet girl, I never thought you were stupid, in fact, I think you’re rather smart. So tell me, why are you really here right now?” He sits forward in his chair and leans across his desk, towards you. Your faces are so close that you can feel his warm and tempting breath on your lips, your eyes close of their own accord and you lean in. He teases you with soft pecks and you fight back, bringing a hand to his chin but he beats you to it. Your hand completely drowned by his own, the sheer size difference a shock to your system, he holds your hand against his desk where your forgotten papers sit. With his other hand he brings his thumb just below your chin and lifts your face so your eyes can meet his, “Is this what you wanted all along? To kiss your Professor? Is this what your little get up today is about? You thought I wouldn’t notice the pretty lace? Do you know how good you look?” His rhetoric questions causing your heart to beat a hole in your chest you inhale sharply, trying to take control of your breathing once again.

“You failed me on purpose.” It’s slipped out before you have time to consider what you’re saying.

What?!

“And if I did? It’s only proved what I thought to be true all along. You’re a little degenerate, like me. I just wanted to test you, to know if you wanted what I wanted. Seems like you do, so tell me to stop and I will. Tell me you’re leaving, I’ll let you. I’m not going to force you to do anything, I respect your boundaries, and I respect that this is wrong. It just, feels so right. So deny it.”

A grown man, your professor nonetheless, sits before you in what feels like a dream, asking for you to stop this.

So stop it.

You take your free hand and pull his face into yours, you’re kissing again, this time with more desperation. It was like you were parched, and Nanami was a stream of fresh water, you couldn’t get enough, and it was like your entire life depended on it. His desk was the only thing stopping you from jumping across and allowing him to devour you whole, you thought about straddling his lap and allowing him to grab the soft fat of your ass. Not yet.

You pull away from the kiss and stand, looking at the man before you, his tie completely loose, a few strands of hair falling on his forehead allowing him to look dishevelled, his glasses slightly steamed up. He was a sight to behold and your heart was beating to within an inch of your life with the idea that you had caused it. Internally you were screaming, DON’T FUCKING STOP. But you had to, had to make sure this wouldn’t be a mistake. You leaned across the desk and picked his glasses off of his nose, placing them on your own and pulling them up, to push the hair off of your face. He looked puzzled and opened his mouth to say something but you interrupted him.

“It seems I have forgotten something, looks like I’ll have to come back to get it tomorrow, what a shame.” And with that, you shot him a grin, turned on your heels, and left. Nanami sat staring at the door in utter shock and awe as you stalked out. He quickly fixed himself up sans glasses and packed up for the day, he muttered something about teaching you a lesson, and spare frames before he left, allowing the leftover tension to dissolve.

#nanami x reader #nanami kento #jujutsu kaisen #Nanamin #nanami fanfic #archive of our own #spitprincess #spitty #my own work #original content #nanami x femme reader #kento #kento nanami x redaer

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couchpotatoaniki · 4 years ago

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One Year ❣︎ Three: The Execution

Chapter Summary: Trying to cool off, you decided to spend the day by yourself. This couldn’t have gone any better for San’s plan.

Pairing: Mafia!San x Fem!Reader Genre: Mafia AU, fluff, angst, eventual smut, lotta crack and stupid shit ngl Chapter warnings: swearing, stalking, kidnapping Word count: 2.5k+ A 365 Days parody

Previous: Chapter Two For the rest of the series, click here

Speech in bold means they’re talking in Korean

Speech in italics is whatever the reader wants their native langue to be that’s not Korean or English

Speech without either means they’re talking in English

Buzzing came from your pocket, initially thinking your phone got a notification until it continuously vibrated. Yunho was calling you.

“Yo, where are you? Mingi told us what happened between you and Dom--and before you say anything, he’ll be having hell to pay, regardless of whether you approve or not.”

Chuckling, you sighed as you looked at your surroundings. “Fine by me. Do what you like to him.” Slowing down in front of a cute-looking coffee shop, you answered his first question...partially. “Just taking a stroll in the town.”

“Wanna be left alone?” You hummed as you entered the establishment, being hit with wafts of bakes goods. “Very well then. But we’re gonna hunt you down if you’re not back by midnight.”

“M’kay, Pops,” mumbling absent-mindedly while overlooking the menu on the screens above the counter.

You couldn’t see the gentle bitter smile on his face, knowing very well that you weren’t as stone-cold as the façade you masked yourself in. Had an idea that you just needed space. “Alright then. Look after yourself.”

“You too.”

Beeping over the line indicated to you that he had hung up. Shoving your phone back into your coat pocket, you let your feet carry you to the till, where a young teenager dressed in a pale blue polo shirt and evergreen apron on top greeted you with a nervous smile.

Must have been new, or had some sort of social anxiety, from the way they avoided your eyes and fidgeted with their hands. “U-Um, hello. Welcome... What would you like?” the taller kid practically whispered, but you caught on to their words.

Sending a soft, warming smile, you answered, “can I have a buttered croissant with a mango and passionfruit iced tea, please? Actually, would you mind adding a chocolate muffin to that too?”

Nodding, they tapped the till, pressing various buttons before saying, “that’ll be 6,500 won, please.”

Pulled out your wallet and paid the employee. As you sat down, waiting on your order, you began to reminisce from when you used to be that age too--then again, it was not hard at all since it wasn’t too long ago.

Seven years ago, you were only 16, enjoying life just before things took a turn you never expected and you were never the same air-headed, happy-go-lucky kid you once were.

All you needed at the time was someone who was kind, who gave you a breath from the onslaught you faced all around you. Mingi was probably the only reason you’re still alive.

Thinking about the old days did more damage to you than you’d like to believe, but almost seemed impossible with the Dominic situation.

Being betrayed again hurt like hell, and although he wasn’t as bad as what you had experienced, he still broke your trust. Trust you tried to rebuild after all you went through the last time.

Thoughts you spent so long trying to get rid of grew back like weeds of the concrete walls you put up five years ago.

And despite what you tried to convince yourself and Mingi, you actually really liked the guy.

“Here you go, miss,” the young employee mumbled as he placed a tray with your order on it. Almost everything was right, except that there was a vanilla and chocolate chip muffin instead of a complete chocolate one.

Oh well, a muffin’s a muffin.

“Thank you,” you grinned, handing the teenager a tip of 10,000 won.

Their eyes widened at your strange generosity before hesitantly taking the money you held out between your index and middle fingers.

Your lips wrapped around the straw as you took a sip of your ice-cold drink. Strong tones of mango, with a hint of passionfruit, slight sweetness from honey and faint tang of fresh lemon.

Iced tea was something you had grown to love over the past five years, first time being too bitter and flavourful for you. Then again, the events prior left a bad taste in your mouth. Seonghwa was the one who helped you, always getting you an iced tea every time he went to a nearby coffee shop.

Learned quite quickly that your tongue was sensitive to heat after being so concerned how you refused piping-hot meals he cooked for you often. Waited until it cooled a lot before digging in.

No doubt the four boys would do anything for you--Mingi the most out of the rest since you wouldn’t be where you are without him--but sometimes you needed to breathe by yourself. Enjoying the little things you like croissants and muffins rather than focussing on your soon-to-be ex boyfriend cheating on you for a reason that eludes you.

That’s how the rest of the day goes.

Aimlessly walking, window-shopping, sight-seeing. Nothing registered in your mind but it was better than something negative.

Your phone was on silent, growing cold in your pocket from the lack of heat being transferred from your hand. Even then, you doubt anyone (except Dominic) would be texting you since you told them you wanted peace.

Before you realised it, the sun crawled above your head and began to set in the horizon, a clash of beautiful blues, oranges, pinks, and purples hovering in the sky. Lampposts along the streets lit up and the sky grew dark, yet that didn’t stop the hustle and bustle.

Irritated by the noises of people, you turned to an alleyway which had significantly less lighting but also significantly less humans.

As you walked, you were deep in thought, not thinking much of your surroundings. Then the hairs on the back of your neck stood up and a chill ran down your spine.

Someone was following you.

You were about to turn around and defend yourself--and you had no worries that you would lose. But then bright LED headlights of a hidden black SUV had highlighted the hair of a rather short person who stood in front of it.

Shocking electric blue stands brushed against his porcelain-smooth skin from light wisps of wind passing by. The same colour hair you realised had been barely peeking in your peripheral since the airport.

Next to a man you had very briefly met on you birthday dinner while searching for the bathroom.

Exactly how long have they been following you?

Though you chided yourself for not noticing it sooner--despite all the excuses of being ‘on a holiday’--you found yourself pondering. You had never met those two funky-haired people before in your life, and you sure as hell made sure any dangerous people couldn’t find you (not without going through one of the other boys first) so who exactly were these people?

Perhaps you were like a bee, drunk on the honey in your tea, or maybe you wanted to get your mind off the situation, needing a thrill at the moment.

You felt the need to destroy something--or at least toy with it for a bit--and these cocky assholes seemed perfect.

Either way, you relaxed your muscles (only a little, as to not raise suspicion of the young man before you).

One foot stepped behind you as you kept your eyes trained on his coco ones, only to rip them away a moment when you turned to ‘run’. As expected, something else tried to stop you. Another black SUV with blinding lights swerved into the other end of the alleyway as you tried to leave.

You’d prided yourself on good acting, and it always seemed to pay off. Right now, to sell the part of a scared girl, you stumbled backwards--planning to fall of the cobblestone path, but only to be saved by something hard.

The mysterious man’s chest, his hands holding your arms as support.

“Sorry about this,” he whispered in your ear, covering your mouth with a chloroformed cloth. You didn’t really put up much of a fight (to your standards, anyway) and succumbed to the strong chemical.

At first you were floating in a sea of black, unable to connect with your senses. Slowly, after moments of nothingness, you could feel the world materialise around you.

Soft fabric was cushioned beneath you, cradling your body with warmth. Light began to seep through your closed eyelids as the gentle, sweet smell of sugared almonds filled your nose with every deep inhale. And finally, a headache that began to pound harder with every pulse.

Grunting, you pried your eyes open, immediately noticing what appeared to be a shower room in front of you. There were two shower heads on each side, with only pillars of soft light embedded into the tiled wall rather than a proper partition. To add to the lack of privacy, the only material separating the shower room and the eyes of the bed was simply a thin pane of sliding glass which hid absolutely nothing.

“What kinda perv decided to design this monstrosity?”

Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked down on the bed you were lying in, thankfully still in the same cotton dress, phone no longer in its pockets. The mattress was significantly softer than the one at the hotel--yet another indicator that your kidnappers were rich.

On the tables dotted around the space were lilac candles. Most likely the culprit of the amazing scent in the room.

Your eyes then caught the daylight peeking through the curtains, enlightening the room in a soft apricot glow. “Fuck,” you muttered, remembering Yunho’s words in the previous call she had, “they’re gonna kill me for staying out.”

Pushing yourself off the illegally comfortable bed, you inched towards the only door you saw. Fingers wrapped around the cold metal handle and pushed down, finding it much to your surprise that it was actually unlocked. Pulled it open without hesitation, though making sure you peered out to see if there was anyone.

There wasn’t.

“Great security, guys,” you sighed, actually feeling disappointed in the lack of effort you had to put in while walking openly around. After all, it was the reason you let yourself be taken.

Then again, this could all be a trap.

Now that was exciting.

You let yourself become familiar with the surroundings upon one glance, noticing the obvious luxurious colour scheme of gold and cream that had your eyes rolling at the basic rich vibes it gave you.

Then you found your breath catching in your throat as you continued to explore, eyes frozen on a portrait hung up on a wall.

Though the fact that it was a portrait of you had initially shocked you, it wasn’t the defining feature that had your heart palpitating at a dangerous speed. Your hair was short again, a pixie cut, while you were sat on a beach that looked a lot like the one you visited in Santorini.

“Fuckin’ hell.”

In fact, the painting was an exact replica of you from five years ago, down to the clothing of ripped jeans and loose top you wore. You, from one of your darkest and lowest moments.

“Are you lost, babygirl?”

The same voice rang in your ears, repeating the only sentence you heard spill from his lips. When you turned around to confirm who it was, it was indeed the same man you saw.

The damn muscular guy, with pitch-black hair and a lock of platinum blonde brushing just above an eye.

The blood was rushing too fast, fear in your eyes no longer an act. Just who the fuck was this guy?

You took one step back, knees buckling instantly but before your brain could process it, the man had wrapped his arms around you, catching your body before hit the ground.

San could smell the delicate citrusy aroma wafting from your skin and he tried so hard to not bury his head in the crook of your neck, to kiss the area and whisper sweet nothings into your ear.

Taking advantage of your frozen state, he lifted you up and place you on a nearby armchair, one beside a fireplace since he felt you were too cold for comfort.

Only until he had a ice cube pressed against your lips, did you snap out of it. “You should have it. Maybe you had a bad reaction to the chloroform. Sorry about that, by the way.”

Head turning the other way, your guarded eyes stayed locked on him rather than your painting behind his form. “English.”

“Why? You spoke perfectly good Korean at the dinner two days ago,” he said, pressing the ice cube onto your mouth once more.

“Simply because I feel more comfortable with English,” you remarked, swatting away his hand. “And stop putting that on my mouth.”

Sighing, he dropped the cold, melting cube back in the glass of whiskey before putting a bit of distance between the two of you. He could feel himself getting angry, that you won’t trust him, that you won’t listen to him.

But could he blame you?

“I feel like explanations are in order,” you said, narrowing your eyes down on his figure, flickering firelight resting on him to make him seem even more good-looking, shadows casted to make each feature appear sharper. But that wasn’t what you were focused on.

You wanted to deduce this stranger by his body language.

Stood tall, maintaining good eye contact, showed that he was confident. Classic black suits--expensive by the look of the fabric--showed that he as rich. Tattoos littering the skin of his hand showed a bit of a bad-boy nature. And the aura he emitted was that of a leader.

Corner of your lips twitching, you realised who--or what--he might be. The boss of a fairly powerful crime syndicate.

San, on the other hand, couldn’t see what you were thinking as you looked at him. Did you think he was as hot as he did you? Fuck, he hoped so--clearly not understanding how a normal person would react in such a situation.

“Hello? Earth to whoever the hell you are?”

“If you want answers, you certainly won’t be getting them if you act like a brat.”

Scoffing, you tilted you head, eyes boring into him with a cold glaze coving them. Like a lifeless doll. “Then how do you suggest I act then? Hmm? After seeing that you’ve been stalking me for the last five years,” you nodded towards coloured canvas, growing more unsettled every time you looked at it.

“Fair point,” he said, taking a seat on the chair opposite you. “But you should know that I haven’t been doing that. Stalking you, I mean.”

“The fuck do you call that creepy-ass portrait, then?”

“I call it a precious memory.” San shifted his focus from your gaze to the flames lazily dancing on charred wooden embers. Tongue swiped over his lips before chuckling, almost bitterly. “Doubt you’ll believe me, but I’ll tell you anyway.”

Lips pursed, you sat quietly as you listened to his story.

☕︎ Tag list: @little-precious-baby , @sparklychangbin ,

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julemmaes · 4 years ago

Note

Can you write more of the Nessian modern au where they have 5 kids plz?

Prompt ideas:

They go camping

Ezra goes on his first date

One of the kids (probably like Cal or Celia) feels like their parents done love them as much as they love the others / that they don’t get as much attention as they others

Obv u don’t need to use any of these prompts if u don’t want to, these are just some ideas

I loved your fic !!!

I Love You

Set in this universe, Nessian fourth child feels like she’s isn’t given the same amount of love her parents are showing her siblings and after a particularly bad day goes by, she bursts.

A/N: The ages: Ezra (23), Cal (19), Nora (14), Celia (12) and Andra (10). Nate is (18) and Iria (Emerie and Azriel’s firstborn) is (13).

It was hard to write this one, cause if one of my children came to me like this, telling me what Celia is going to say, I would probably kill myself you know. Hate these situations:(

Also, I’m definitely gonna write the other two too, cause they’re interesting and I think you all want to read about Ezra’s first date. So don’t worry, we’ll see them camping and struggling with love some more!

Enjoy!

Word count: 4,370

"Cal, can you help me with my homework?" asked Celia as she entered the boys room.

Her brother didn't even spare her a glance, waving a hand in mid-air, "I can't right now Cece, I'm playing with Nate and I can't pause, sorry." then burst out laughing at something his cousin had said to him through his earbuds. He cast her a quick glance over his shoulder, "Maybe when I finish."

The girl huffed, muttering a don't worry and closed the door behind her. She walked down the hallway, towards her room and Nora's. She didn't bother knocking, but froze in the doorway, staring at her sister with hopeful eyes. She knew she wouldn't find help there either when she heard her say Iria's name into the phone's microphone.

She could feel that she might be about to let out a scream of frustration.

She was about to leave the room when Nora noticed her, "Iria wait a second," she put a hand on the phone, smiling at Celia, "Do you want anything? I can leave the room if you need to study in silence," she offered her.

Celia shook her head, "I can't do this geometry problem." she said furrowing her brow as she looked at the strange figure on the sheet her math teacher had assigned her. She looked up at Nora and she had a bored look on her face. Celia had confirmation of what she had thought as soon as she walked in. Before her sister could find an excuse to escape that task, she smiled and said, "Don't worry, I'll do it myself."

Nora didn't even try to retort and resumed talking to her cousin, yelling at Celia to close the door when she left.

"Yeah, I'll close the door for you," she muttered to herself.

She didn't want to go to her mom and ask for help with her homework because she knew it would end with one of them yelling, but she had no other choice. Huffing for the millionth time, she headed downstairs, mentally ready to face an intense math session with her mom.

When she entered the kitchen, Nesta was leaning on her chair with her knees and half lying on the table, holding a yellow pencil and coloring one of the suns on Andra's exercise book.

Her sister was the first to see her, "Hi." she said in a flat tone.

Celia snickered, thinking "we're in the same boat sis". Doing homework with mom had always been tiring, whether it was math to solve or simple drawings to color, Nesta had the ability to squeeze their little brains to their last nerve.

Cassian had always told them that one day they would thank her, but Celia hadn't reached that moment yet. She was sure Ezra, who was finishing college, hadn't thanked her yet either for making him maintain that level of consistency in his studies.

"Mom," she called hesitantly, "could you help me with this problem?"

Andra glared at her, frowning, "She's helping me."

Celia knew she didn't mean it in a bad way, she knew she was probably just as tired as she was at that moment. After all, it was seven o'clock on a Sunday night for everyone, and if Andra had found herself finishing studying so late too, it was because she too had been given too much homework. She ignored her, waiting for Nesta to speak.

When he didn't answer her, Celia pushed with more annoyance in her voice, "Mom."

Nesta's head snapped toward her, and even this time, Celia knew the answer would be no. The weariness clear in her features. Nesta closed her eyes, scratching a temple with the tip of her pencil, "Can't you ask one of your siblings?"

"Nora and Cal are busy," she let her know, "I don't know where Ezra is."

Andra pointed her to the back door, "He's out with Dad, they're working in the gazebo."

Celia nodded, "Thank you." Nesta gave her a tired smile and then went back to coloring in the sun.

She clutched the book and notebook to her chest as she pushed the door open and the cold outside made her shiver. She could hear the hoarse laughter and low voices of her dad and brother, but she couldn't see them anywhere.

She stepped barefoot into the grass and wiggled her fingers through the blades of grass and then there was silence and Celia was suddenly afraid. If she turned around she could see Nesta and Andra at the table, but in front of her there was only darkness and silence, until a loud bang came from the gazebo and then she heard Cassian cursing, before Ezra burst out laughing.

She grinned, tiptoeing towards the two men.

As soon as she moved the curtain that was the door to the gazebo, a dart flew past her head and she jumped back, eyes wide. She felt her heart in her throat.

"Celia!" had shouted Ezra, sprinting toward her. His eyes, too, were full of fear and he had grabbed her by the arms. Cassian immediately behind him stroked her hair, checking to make sure he hadn't poked her in the face. They both let go a breath of relief when they saw that she was okay.

"Cutie you have to be careful when you come in here, you know that," her dad told her with a carefree smile on his face, "If I caught you, mommy would skin me alive."

All three cackled, Ezra pulling himself up and removing the darts from the board.

"Did you need anything?" asked Cassian.

Celia nodded, remembering the real reason she had gone there, "I can't do this problem-" she started to open the notebook, but Ezra interrupted her.

"Dad and I are just finishing up fixing this actually," he told her with a apologetic grimace, "Could you wait a half hour?"

Celia looked at Cassian hopefully, but her dad was already back handling tools and nails.

She turned to her brother, "But you were playing darts." she said impassively.

Ezra shrugged, "We were just taking a few minutes off, we've been working for hours." then turned to Dad, "Where's the wire?"

Cassian pointed to a spot on the other side of the gazebo and Celia took that gesture as her cue to leave them alone again.

"Nevermind." she whispered, closing the notebook and leaving the gazebo.

She eyed the table at which they ate breakfast every summer morning, thinking that if she started studying there maybe she would die of hypothermia and finally someone would deign to help her. Laughing at how extra she could be at times, she walked back into the house, passing her mom and Andra in silence and heading back to Cal's room. She was going to wait for him to finish the game and then force him to solve the problem for her.

She threw open the door and Cal let out a shriek, startling her.

"God, Cece you scared the shit out of me." he breathed, bringing a hand to his chest, finishing pulling on his pants.

Celia furrowed her brow, "Weren't you playing with Nate?"

Cal nodded absentmindedly, looking around, "See my wallet?"

She pointed it out to him. "Where are you going? You said you'd help me," she said in a whiny tone.

"I said maybe," he smiled slyly at her, "and Raina called me and I'm spending the night at her place." with that he turned and opened the drawer, pulling out two aluminum foil envelopes. As soon as Celia realized what they were, she brought her hands to her eyes.

"Gee," she sighed, then turned around shaking her head, "I didn't need to see that."

Without looking at him, she raised a hand, smiling tightly at the empty space in front of her, "See you tomorrow, have fun."

Cal chuckled as he walked past her and darted down the stairs, "Sure will. See you tomorrow."

Celia shook her head again and then again, trying to erase the image of- she walked back down the hall, opening up the door to her room.

Nora in a completely different position was still talking on the phone and when she saw her she rolled her eyes, telling Iria to wait yet again. She turned on her stomach, raising an eyebrow, "What is it?"

Why is everyone so grumpy today?

Celia was fed up with that attitude and raised her arms to the sky, "Nothing, whatever."

Then they stared at each other for a few seconds and Nora nodded her chin, "Could you please go out? I'm talking to Iria on the phone and-"

"This is my room, too," Celia retorted, pointing out the obvious.

Nora huffed, leaning her head back, "Yes and I'm asking if I can please talk to our cousin in private."

Celia was getting even more nervous. "If you would help me with this problem I could go mind my own business in the living room and I wouldn't have to bother you every five minutes anymore."

Nora stood up, grabbing her by the arm and pushing her out of the room, "I'll help you when I'm done talking on the phone."

Celia didn't even have time to realize that her sister had literally just thrown her out of the room that the door behind her had already been closed. She wanted to go back in and throw herself at Nora and work it out the way they used to work it out when they were kids, when they could still hit each other if they fought - not that their parents ever let them go beyond the first slap or hair pull.

She walked into the bathroom in the middle of their rooms to see where Cassian and Ezra stood, but from the second floor it was impossible to see inside the gazebo.

She went to Andra's room so she wouldn't risk running into condom wrappers and having to breathe the testosterone-smelling air of her brothers' room and sat down on the bed. She opened the notebook on her lap, rereading the problem statement aloud.

"A rectangular parallelepiped has basic dimensions that measure-" then she stopped.

It was pointless. She couldn't figure out what formulas to apply to calculate what was asked of her in the fourth question. Rereading the text wasn't going to help.

She brought her hands to her hair.

Why is this so hard?

She heard Nora laughing down the hall and felt anger sizzle under her skin.

Ever since she'd gotten the phone for her fourteenth birthday, there hadn't been a night that was one in which she hadn't called Iria. And it had only been a few months since she'd started high school, but Celia didn't understand how those two things had managed to change her sister like that.

She knew Nora still cared about her, but it was getting harder and harder to spend time with her, and Cal was always out with Raina and the twins and it was possible that she didn't see him for days at a time. Although that last part had become an occurrence in recent years.

Nesta had explained to her that it was normal, that they were just growing up and there was nothing to worry about, that they'd get closer once she got older too, but it had hurt Celia to lose Cal in many ways and now she was just scared that the same thing would happen with Nora.

She had nothing against spending her free time with Andra, but she was still little and still liked to play with dolls and Celia would rather hang herself than pretend to be a Doctor Peluche one more time.

She chuckled again this time, imagining herself announcing her death to her parents after her little sister asked her to play.

Then she heard Andra scream with happiness and run up the stairs. She was just in time to get out of the bed and out of the room that her sister was at the top of the stairs.

"I finished my homework!" she yelled, balling up her fists in the air.

Celia smiled at her, "Great."

Then Andra sagged, "Now I'm going to go take a victory nap."

"You've earned it." she walked past her as she yawned and headed down the stairs two steps at a time.

"Mom!" she called skipping the last three, "Can you help me now?"

Nesta made a frustrated sound, turning to her with a bag of frozen green beans in her hand.

"I just finished with Andra, is there any way we could think about this after dinner?"

Celia was about to start crying, but nodded anyway. She went into the living room when her mom resumed cooking, turning on the TV and putting on a channel where they showed how food is made.

When her dad and Ezra came back into the house they were so dirty that Nesta sent them straight to get washed up with the threat of not letting them sit down if they didn't smell flowery and clean.

Celia would have gone along with her mom, adding a sassy retort to make it even more dramatic, but at that moment she couldn't speak.

Cassian had passed behind the couch to go to the bathroom and shower, ruffling her hair and leaving a kiss on her head.

Even there, Celia didn't respond or say any "I love you too" back.

She didn't realize until a few minutes later that she wasn't really watching the show, and when she felt she was about to start crying - from too much accumulated stress and frustration throughout the day - she decided she needed to find a place where she could blow off steam.

Her room was apparently off-limits, Andra's was occupied and she couldn't hide in either her parents' or her brothers' room because both Ezra and her dad would go there to get dressed after their showers.

This only added to all the bad things of the day and on top of all the crap, she knew her mom was going to go to sleep right after dinner. When Nesta was this tired there was no way she was going to be able to stay up a minute longer and even if she could convince her it would just be hell.

Doing math with a calm and rested Nesta was already a nightmare on its own, she didn't want to think about what it would be like to do it with a cranky and tired Nesta.

She silently opened the door that led into the tavern, where the brothers normally spent their Saturday nights with their cousins and friends. The girls still weren't allowed to go down there when everyone was there, and Celia was looking forward to high school so she would get a free pass to attend their nights.

That is, if they would accept her.

She closed the door carefully behind her and ran down the stairs, turning on the light first.

She threw herself on the couch and then hugged her legs, sobbing once. And then again and again until a liberating cry was wracking her body.

She didn't know if it was just the math assignment she couldn't do or if it bothered her to see how much everyone didn't need her at that moment. Andra had mom and Ezra had dad and Nora and Cal had their respective friends and Celia… she felt so lonely right then.

She sobbed particularly loudly and clamped her mouth shut with her hand when she heard her father's footsteps pass by the tavern door. She didn't want him to hear her, it would worry him for nothing.

Yes, it was just because she couldn't get a stupid math problem right. She was overreacting.

She didn't need her parents. Or her brothers.

Or her sister for that matter.

She was sure all of her classmates were getting the exercise done.

She loosened her arms from around her legs and lay down on the couch, closing her eyes and clutching one of the pillows to her chest. It had a vague earthy smell to it, but it smelled like Cal too, and it angered the girl even more as she grabbed a corner of the pillow and threw it across the room, yelling not too loudly.

She didn't know how long she'd been down there, but when Nesta called the family to let them know dinner was ready, Celia sprang to her feet. She pulled the sleeves of her shirt over her hands and ran them over her face to remove the residue of the crying in frantic movements.

She took three deep breaths and then walked slowly up the stair

s. She opened the door just as Ezra walked into the living room and their eyes met.

She immediately lowered her head, so he wouldn't see her face, but her brother put a hand on her shoulder, "Lia..." the silent request to look at him clear as day.

"What?" she replied too surly. She cursed in her head when she noticed her brother stiffen. It was as if she could see his surprised expression.

So much for playing dumb.

"Are you okay?" he asked, then squeezed her shoulder, "Why were you downstairs?"

She moved to escape his grasp, then ran a hand over her face, huffing, "I was looking for something." she replied evasively, trying to make her way to the kitchen. Ezra grabbed her wrist, spinning her around, at which point Celia was forced to look at him.

Ezra had a conflicted expression, somewhere between angry and worried, "What happened? Why are you crying?" he asked, in a tone that didn't allow for a non-answer.

Celia remained silent, her brows knitted in a frown as she tried to swallow the knot that was forming in her throat.

Perhaps he had spoken too loudly, because Cassian's figure appeared in the kitchen doorway, "Who's crying?"

Celia looked towards her dad and it only took a second of seeing him for the crying to return, only harder.

Cassian's face turned completely as he moved Ezra from in front of his daughter and hugged her, lifting her off the ground. Celia wrapped her arms around her father's neck, hiding her face between the crook of his neck and his shoulder, and only sobbed louder as Cassian's hand began massaging her back in circular motions.

She didn't care if she would be thirteen in a few weeks. She didn't care that her father was rocking her like he used to when she was little, she just wanted him to hold her close.

She wrapped her legs around her dad's waist and heard Cassian take a shaky breath, "Ezra why don't you go ahead? We'll be right there."

Celia didn't see or hear her brother's response, but she was grateful to her dad when he moved to the couch, settling down and bringing her to him. She pressed herself tighter against him.

"Lia, what happened?" he whispered in her ear. This only made her sob more loudly, "Ssh, cutie," he murmured as the little girl's breathing became more erratic, "It's okay."

"Celia." her mom's voice made her sit up and Nesta was there, who with only a few steps was behind the couch. She'd seen Andra and Nora's heads pop up from the kitchen as well, but Ezra had called them back and they were gone immediately.

Nesta took a seat next to Cassian, her arms outstretched toward her daughter, but her gaze fixed on her husband's. Celia launched herself at her mother, but kept an arm around her father's neck and Cassian took her hand, squeezing it in his.

The child's tears had soaked his pajama shirt and Nesta's chest tightened. She brushed Celia's hair until she had a clear view of her daughter's face, "What's wrong?"

"I have-" she sobbed, "I had to solve a problem and I couldn't and no one-" every breath she tried to take was broken by a sob. She sniffled, "And then Nora kicked me out of the room and Cal- Cal didn't want to help me and he left and you were-" she ran the hand that wasn't clasped in Cassian's over her face, "You were helping Andra." then she turned to her dad and started crying again, "And then you and Ezra sent me away."

Nesta felt tremendous guilt and was about to apologize to her, for ignoring her, but then Celia said something that completely broke her heart.

"You don't love me like you do the others," she sobbed into her mom's chest.

"Oh, Lia." murmured Cassian, in a hurt tone. He slipped a hand between Nesta and his daughter's stomach and pulled her away from her mother, forcing the woman's arms off Celia.

Cassian sat her back down on his lap and looked into her eyes, leaning down just enough to be at the same height as her. His brow was furrowed and she could see how upset those few words had made him.

"That's absolutely not true." he whispered in a firm tone, watching the redness of his little girl's face, the tears that continued to fall undisturbed.

Nesta stroked her hair, "Your father is right." she added.

"You are all on exactly the same level. There's no such thing as loving one child more than the other," he repeated, "It's not possible."

Celia took more shaky breaths, struggling to speak, "Cal and Nora hate me now."

Nesta felt bad for her little girl. She didn't dare imagine how long she had kept those doubts to herself, couldn't imagine how she could think those things. How she had let one of her children feel that way without even noticing.

"Cal could never hate you and you know it. He loves you too much. Exactly like me and Mom and Nora too, even though it might not seem like it." said Cassian. Then he ran a thumb under her eyes, wiping her cheeks. "I'm sorry if we made you feel left out today, that wasn't our intention, okay?"

Celia nodded, but resumed crying.

"We're a family, we all love each other so much, but we're also numerous," Nesta tried to explain, "It may happen sometimes that no one is available to help you at that moment, but that doesn't mean they don't love you or care about you less than the day before."

Cassian squeezed her hips, "Why didn't you tell us this before?" he asked her, later clarifying, "That you were feeling this way."

Celia shrugged, resting her hands on her daddy's chest, just as she did when she was little.

"I don't want it to get to a point where you can't hold back anymore and you have to hide to cry, okay?" said Cassian to her. Nesta looked at him and saw that his eyes were glazed over. She placed a hand on his leg, but the man's attention didn't shift from his daughter's face. "If you feel that Mama and I and anyone in this house are misbehaving with you, you come tell us and we'll talk about it, without the need to yell at each other and fight." he gave her a hesitant smile. Then he wrapped her up and pulled her against him, kissing her temple, "Please don't think I love you any less just because I'm a stupid, clueless big man who can't manage his time optimally, okay?"

Celia nodded against his neck, starting to play with the end of his hair strands.

"And I'm sorry if I made you think that for even a second," he closed his eyes as he whispered those words to her.

"I love you dad." said Celia in a muffled voice.

Cassian held her tighter to his chest, "I love you cutie."

Nesta cleared her throat, laying a hand on her daughter's back, "I'm sorry if I didn't pay enough attention to you today too and if I sent you out of the kitchen," she murmured, urging her to look at her. Celia broke away from Cassian, getting off his lap and launching herself at her mother, who caught her and stifled a laugh at the sudden weight.

God, she was growing up so fast, too.

"I love you, Lia." she whispered to her, "Don't ever doubt that, please."

"I love you mom."

They stayed rocking their baby girl for a few more minutes, then Cassian made a joke about the food that was getting cold in their plates, and all three of them got up from the couch and walked into a particularly quiet kitchen.

Nesta took a seat next to Andra and kissed her forehead as she took a green bean from the serving plate with her small hand.

Cassian glanced at all his children present and blew out a cough, "Maybe we should talk about eavesdropping as well."

Ezra turned to Celia, who was wiping her face with her napkin despite the fact that it was already dry, "Sorry for making you feel that way." he smiled at her, "I love you."

Celia nodded, focusing on her food.

"I want to apologize too," Nora said more softly, playing with the edge of the tablecloth. "I shouldn't have kicked you out of the room like that, and if you want to later I'll help you with the problem."

Her sister looked at her and opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, "I would love to."

"Sorry." said Andra, with a rather cute frown on her face. She probably didn't quite understand what had happened, but Celia appreciated either way. Even as she gave her the widest smile as she said, "I love you."

Celia looked at everyone at the table, swallowing noisily, "I love you."

She would talk to Cal another time.

They ate between jokes and pranks and after dinner they all jumped on their parents' bed, cuddling until they all fell asleep there. Cassian and Nesta were forced to give up their room for the night, taking refuge in the guest room instead, but not before showing their children how much infinite love they felt for each of them.

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buckys-black-dress · 4 years ago

Text

a fine line, part four

a/n: heyyy! sorry this part took so long :( i was feeling really shitty this past week, so here it finally is! i hope u guys like it :)

wc: 3.7k words

This week was going... strangely well.

And of course, it was because of James.

On Monday when you walked into your first ever shared lecture, everything was already set up. There was even a coffee and breakfast waiting for you, which James graciously handed to you with a bright smile upon your entrance.

“Good morning, Y/N. Did you sleep well last night?” He asks with an innocent smile, but you knew he wasn’t all that clueless.

“Good morning James. I did, in fact, sleep very well last night. I hope you did too, because we have a long day ahead of us.” You give a tight smirk with your words, looking at the coffee and bakery bag in his hands. “What’s that?”

“Oh! For you. This is day one, remember?” He says, handing you them and retreating to his desk. “Also, I spoke to Fury about the class sizes. Although he wasn’t much help and basically told me I was on my own, I did send an email to my students about the way they should behave while you’re here. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable, or anything.”

“O-oh. Thanks. I really appreciate that.” You mumble, looking down.

“Yeah, of course. Is there anything else you might need to do this?” He asks in a sincere tone. You felt so weird.

“Uh, no, I don’t think so. Thank you, though.” You smile.

“Well, let’s get started then.” James turns around to open the door, waiting for students to file in until class officially started.

You were extremely nervous, to say the least, but it was comforting knowing that he was trying to make you feel more at home in this space.

Tuesday was more of the same. He, again, brought you breakfast, and had his class in line. But the thing that was different today was the sweet note attached with the lunch he brought.

Y/N, I hope you know how serious I am about all of this. Part of that means paying attention to what you like and don’t like. I know you hate milk in your coffee, large crowds, and when people think English class is a joke. I also know you hate hot coffee, but love tea. And you love grilled cheese, which is what I got you from that café across campus. Enjoy :) -BB

You smiled down at the greasy paper bag, smelling heavenly as ever. Your stomach rumbled after a long lecture with James, and just as you were to plop down into your office chair, a knock sounded from the doorframe, and a large body appearing.

“Hey. Like the lunch?” James asks, his hands in his pockets while walking in slowly.

“Y-Yeah, how’d you know?” You ask, smiling down at the sandwich.

“I mean, I see you there a lot with Nat and Wanda, so I thought I’d treat ya to one. I pay attention to you more than you think.” He says, and your brows pull together as you try not to laugh. “I- that made me sound like a creep.” He looks down in embarrassment.

“It’s alright, James,” you smile, “I really appreciate it. Thank you.” You look down at the warm sandwich again. “Would you like the other half?” You extend it out to him, and he watches with wide eyes.

“Oh, n-no, I wouldn’t wanna impose like that, it was for you-”

“James, I insist. Please, sit.” You motion to your chair across your desk.

He sits with you and conversation flows easily between you two, and it was a huge change from where you two stood a month ago. If someone told you a month ago that James Barnes was trying to woo you, to make you accept his apology, then you would’ve laughed in their face.

But sitting here now, with him, you wouldn’t rather be anywhere else.

That is, until you hear the clicking of heels from the hall, and a certain redhead peeking her head in your office.

“Oh! Sorry, Y/N, I didn’t realize you already had lunch plans,” Natasha says with a smirk, moving to leave your office. You watched with wide eyes, and you knew she was going to have a word with you about this later.

“Great.” You say, hitting your head against your desk, while James is chuckling from his spot.

“Y’know, she’s definitely somethin’ else.” He laughs, looking at you carefully. “It’s not a bad thing, right?” He asks.

“What’s not a bad thing?” You ask, confused.

“That Natasha saw us in here... together...?” He sounds like he’s asking a question, but he’s not sure.

“No... We’re... friends, right? Friends eat lunch together...” You tell him, although you also sound unsure of yourself.

“Yeah... friends.” Bucky feels his chest tighten in a way he’s only felt a few times in his life before.

You both carry on eating, but you don’t see the way he’s looking at you. It almost looks like... longing.

Wednesday was slowly escalating Bucky’s promise to you. After a long day of teaching, there was a bottle of wine waiting on your desk when you returned to collect your things for the evening. Another note was attached to it.

Dear Y/N,

Here’s a little something to help you get through tomorrow and Friday. Hope you enjoy. :)

- BB

You look at the bottle, and it’s an aged Sauvignon from France. It was a nice bottle, and you know he took his time picking it out. It made your insides tingle knowing he thought of you and what would impress you.

You picked up the bottle, looking at it for another minute before sliding it into your bag and gathering your papers and laptop.

You wanted to knock on his door to say thank you, but it was already shut, so you assumed he was either already gone or speaking privately with someone.

You decided you would just text him to thank him, and with that you decided to leave your office for the night.

Little did you know, James was having a conversation with one of the students he had come to love and whom he had become very close with over the course of their time together.

“Dr. B, you weren’t being so subtle in class today, y’know?” The boy’s scratchy voice said.

“What’re ya talkin’ about, Parker?” His voice was tired from lecturing all day, but he couldn’t deny the way his heart rate picked up at the boy’s words.

“Well, with Dr. Y/L/N... I don’t know, you look at her like how I look at MJ...” He tells his professor.

“Well I sure hope so, ‘cause I like her... a lot...” Bucky shoves his head into his hands and takes a deep breath, while the student still stares at him.

“Well why don’t you tell her?!” Peter exclaims, hands flailing around with wide eyes. “You guys would be awesome together! Oh man, I can’t wait to tell MJ, she’s gonna love this- You know Dr. Y/L/N is like, her favorite teacher ever?-” Peter starts rambling, but is cut off by Bucky’s gruff voice.

“L-Listen, kid, it’s not that easy. I messed up with her before, and I’m trying to make it up to her. I did some things that... that I’m not proud of before, and now it’s time for me to win her over, but I’m runnin’ short on ideas, here.” He explains to the youngling.

“Oh- Well, what’re you thinking?” Peter asks, ideas already running through his head.

And once Bucky explains what happened and what he’d been doing this whole week, Peter jumped in his seat.

“Maybe MJ can help! She sees her like, every day anyways, so maybe we can like, ask her to do something. Something subtle, but something Dr. Y/L/N will know is from you. We all know she doesn’t like all that flashy crap.”

And so the two got to planning the rest of the week, and came up with ways to have MJ help as well, just to add that little somethin’ for you.

Thursday went by in a flash, but there was something by lunchtime that you couldn’t shake from your thoughts.

James hadn’t done anything today, and you were scared.

Scared that he gave up, that he doesn’t care anymore.

Scared that you’re not worth it anymore.

By 3 PM, you couldn’t help but feel small and like a fool. You were sitting at your desk between classes, trying to work on some grading to take your mind off the events of the day.

Or lack thereof.

Until there was a knock at your door, a knock you’ve known for almost two years now.

“MJ, come in! How are you today, hun?” You ask in the cheeriest voice you can muster right now.

One of your most treasured students walks in and sets her bag down on the chair in front of your desk.

“Hi Dr. Y/L/N. I have a message for you.” She tells you very vaguely. You raise an eyebrow at the girl, but allow her to continue with a brief nod.

“Uhm, alright?” You tell her.

“Y/N,” you raise your brows at the use of your first name, “I know I haven’t always been the kindest you. I know that I’ve made you doubt me and my honesty. And I know we got off on the wrong foot, but I’d like to change that. I’ve spent the better part of this week trying to figure out how I was going to make you understand just how sorry I am for the way I treated you. I made you feel like you weren’t enough, that you were the problem, but in the end, I had to sit and think.

This was all my fault. I made us this way, but now it’s up to me to fix it. I hope you know, you are one in a million, and I want you to see that. I want you to see yourself the way I see you. So, I have a simple favor to ask of you. Tomorrow night, be ready at seven o’clock sharp in your prettiest dress. Love, James.”

And before your brain could even process the fact that James was asking you out on a date and calling you beautiful, the door opened once again, and a student you’ve often seen milling in and out of James’ office.

He was holding a bouquet of assorted flowers of beautiful greenery and colors that you’ve never even imagined of.

“Hi Dr. Y/L/N. These are for you.” He hands them to you, and remember his name to be Peter Parker, MJ’s boyfriend.

“Oh- Oh my God, thank you, Peter. And you too, MJ. You’re both absolute gems.” You say with a severe blush dusting your face.

“Of course, Doctor. That’s all we’ve got for our part, have a good rest of your day.” MJ smiles as she grabs Peter’s hand and leave your office.

You wave them off and give them a sweet smile.

You stare down at the floral arrangement in your hands, and couldn’t contain the wide smile that you had spread across your face.

You had only seen James through class today, and it had gone extremely well. You gave a full lecture, and your lesson plans had been going over really well with the class. Although James hadn’t done anything today, it had lifted your mood to see you were doing well with this lesson.

But now, you were over the moon, and nothing could ruin your day.

You slowly bounded into James’ office, finding him facing away from the door, murmuring something to himself as he flicked his eyes from his computer to the papers in front of him.

“Hey, stranger.” You say with another grin that made James’ stomach flutter at the sight. You were leaning against his door frame, bag slung across your shoulder and the flowers in hand.

“H-Hey. How are you?” He asks, standing up from his chair.

“I’m doing great. Better than I was earlier today. I uh... I thought you’d...given up on me,” you try to laugh it off, trying to make it look much less dramatic than you initial thoughts.

“Hey, hey, look at me.” He walks up to you, tipping your chin up where your eyes meet his icy baby blues. “You... You are so important. Especially to me, and don’t let anyone make you feel otherwise. I know I did it in the past, and there’s nothing I wish I could take back more than that.” He looks at you with such conviction, such purpose, that all you can do is nod numbly and stare back.

“I, uhm, Lucy’s waiting for me at home, I have to go. But I’ll see you tomorrow.” You say softly, still holding his gaze.

“Okay, see you tomorrow. Have a good night, doll.” He says, softly smiling and backing away, but still facing you.

“Bye.” You smile, walking away.

“Bye.” James returns, a silly smile on his face.

“Bye.” You say again, laughing.

“Bye!” You hear him yell, but you were already out of his office.

You hear his laughter mixing with yours, and you couldn’t wipe the stupid smile off your face for the rest of the night. Not when you got home and fed Lucy, not when you put the flowers in a vase, and certainly not as you fell asleep.

Friday was possibly the slowest day ever. You were in class all morning, and you were still giddy from yesterday. The lesson had gone exceptionally well, especially after the breakfast James brought you.

You ate lunch with Nat and Wanda, having not sat down to have an in-depth conversation with them in quite a while.

“Soooo... what’s up with you and Bucky?” Natasha gives you one of her devious smirks, and she knew exactly what she was doing.

“Well, he’s been doing this... thing this week where he’s making it up to me for... everything, I guess?” You say. “And we’re going on a date tonight.” You don’t meet their eyes, but theirs widen as they share a look.

“And you didn’t think to tell us, you bitch?!” Wanda hits your arm, laughing out a scoff.

“I-I mean, it was a whole deal. He like- you know MJ and Peter? They came in and did this thing in my office, MJ read a whole note from him, and then Peter came in with a bouquet of these beautiful flowers. And then I went to his office to thank him, and we had this... interaction like... like it was magic.”

The way you spoke in awe had Natasha and Wanda confused, but also in awe. They were happy for you, after all you’d been through, it was comforting seeing you like this. You deserved to be happy.

“That’s really great, Y/N,” Natasha gently placed her hand over yours. Her smile was sincere, just like Wanda’s. You were genuinely happy in this moment. Not only with the prospect of your date tonight, but because of the people you were surrounded with. You were grateful for these two, because you didn’t know where you’d be without them.

“So, are you two gonna help me get ready for my date tonight?” You ask expectantly, to which both redheads say,

“Duh!” And all three of you burst into a fit of giggles.

So now, here you were. It was an hour before James was set to pick you up, and you were dat at your vanity while Wanda curled the ends of your hair. Nat had picked out a gorgeous black dress for you, with strappy heels and a short cardigan for some cover-up. You had a robe on while you were waiting for Wanda to finish, so you could do your makeup. That’s all that was left, and the anticipation for 7 o’clock was killing you.

“Y/N, I can practically hear you thinking so hard,” Wanda laughs, patting your shoulder.

“Sorry, I just- I’m nervous. I haven’t been on a date since... since forever. I don’t wanna mess this up, especially with him.” You explain to them.

“Y/N, think of like this... he’s making it up to you. You don’t have anything to worry about. He’s the one doing the impressing.” Natasha tells you, and you understand a little bit.

“Yeah, he’s the one owing it to you. You have nothing to worry about, dear.” Wanda reassures.

“Y-You’re right, guys. Okay, let me do my makeup, and then I’m ready.” You smile, because even though you were nervous you were also excited. This was a surprise, and you couldn’t wait to see what James had planned.

As 7 o’clock rolled around, Nat and Wanda eventually left. You were waiting by the door downstairs, waiting to see a car pull around, but instead what you saw made your eyes widen.

You peeked your head out the door, seeing James.

On a motorcycle.

“Absolutely not, James!” You yell, not even for a second thinking it was funny.

He doesn’t say anything, just moving off the bike and walking up to you.

“Y/N... you look... beautiful.” He takes your hand in his, completely ignoring how you were not amused by the bike.

“J-James, I’m serious. No.”

“Y/N, I promise, you’ll be just fine. You’re in good hands.” He leads you to the bike, pulling out a helmet for you.

“Do you not own a car?” You whine, really not wanting to get on this death trap.

“You know I do, but I like to keep the element of surprise, doll.” He smirks that smirk, and you know you’re not getting out of this.

“Ugh, fine. Let’s go before I change my mind.” You say, waiting for him to get on first.

As you climb on, you wait for him to adjust himself, and you hesitate when the time comes to wrap your arms around his torso; your hands were just awkwardly hovering around him.

“Don’t be shy, doll.” You hear him say, suddenly just planting your arms into place quickly.

As James starts to drive, you feel yourself moving closer and closer to his body, eventually hugging up against him.

Bucky feels your body against his, and he can feel your heart beating wildly in your chest and every breath you take. He can feel it when he does something just a little bit risky on the bike, and how your breath catches in your throat.

And maybe he was doing them on purpose to feel your arms tighten around him even further.

By the time you reach where he’s taking you, you’re sure you look like a mess. Helmet head, mascara smudged under your eyes. But Bucky can’t help but feel that this is the most beautiful you’ve ever looked.

You were perched on a lookout point of the city, and there was a large setup waiting for the two of you. A large blanket splayed across the grass, small lanterns scattered across the expanse of land along with a few baskets of food.

“Wow...” You couldn’t help but stare in awe at the scene. Bucky had really taken the time to arrange all of this... for you.

“Do ya like it? I know it’s not the ideal traditional first date, but I didn’t wanna take you to some fancy restaurant, and-”

“Bucky, it’s absolutely perfect.” You cut off his rambling and take ahold of his hand, leading him to the blanket and you both sit down.

“So, how did you even come up with this?” You ask, watching him pull out the food and a bottle of wine.

“Well, I’ll admit... it wasn’t all me. I had a lot of help from Steve and Sam, because at first I had no clue what to do. I didn’t know how to really make it special, so we sat down and planned this whole thing.” He explains.

“Well, make sure to pass on a thank you to them from me.” You giggle, taking a sip of the wine he poured you.

“You got it, doll.” He laughs, and you two continue to talk and drink until you felt a chill run through you from a cool breeze building up due to the cold air.

And of course, Bucky notices. You watch him pull out another blanket, opening it to cover himself, but he holds up the other end and looks to you.

“C’mon, it’s getting colder, isn’t it?” Bucky asks with a gentle smile.

You nod, scooting closer to him to get under the blanket. And maybe it was the warmth from the wine you had, or the blanket or being so close to Bucky, but you felt very warm and comfortable in that moment.

“The lights are so... pretty from up here. Everything looks so small from up here.” You tell him.

“Hmm... it is really beautiful.” You hear his gruff voice from his chest, and you look up at him from your spot with your head on his shoulder.

He was looking right at you, and you momentarily see his eyes flicker from yours to your lips. It felt like gravity was pulling you two closer together, and eventually your eyes both slip closed and all you can feel is the warmth of his lips on yours.

And you never usually kiss on the first date, but this was different.

Bucky was different.

When you pull away from him, you struggle to open your eyes again, for the fear that this was all a dream and you’ll wake up if you do.

“Angel, open your eyes. Look at me.” Bucky says, and you do as he says.

You looked like a real life angel to him. Swollen lips, hair flowing in all directions from his hands being run through it and the wind from the motorcycle. Under the blanket, your hands placed on his shoulders, basically in his lap.

And this is when Bucky knew.

This was heaven. There was absolutely nowhere else he ever wanted to be than with you.

Your eyes searched his, and all you could find was adoration, infatuation, and... love.

And this is when you knew.

You were in love with Bucky Barnes.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #college professor AU #professor!bucky #prof!bucky #prof!bucky x prof!reader #a fine line #bucky fic #bucky barnes series #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst

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kkaebsongtypo · 4 years ago

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01 | m.l | next

why wont you love me // hrj [02]

pairing: renjun x reader

genre: friends to lovers, slow burn, fluff, slight angst

wanings/notes: alcohol consumption (all parties are of legal age, drink responsibly!), mentions/symptoms of anxiety, mentions/signs of abandonment issues, jealousy, inspired by the song Why Won't You Love Me by 5sos

(warnings/notes are subject to change and updates if needed.)

word count: 2.1k

Renjun and y/n are an inseparable pair; they know each other like the back of their own hands. For the most part. Renjun keeps his true feelings hidden; y/n refuses to acknowledge their own. Both hold the fear of losing each other. But will one night out and a little too much to drink change everything?

a/n: hello part two is f i n a l l y here- sorry for the super long wait ;-; lmk if you want to be in a taglist ^-^

A week without Renjun and the boys proved to be a lot more difficult than you expected. On any other day, a normal day, you would have Renjun or Jisung on video call to keep you company whilst doing your work, cleaning the house, or just any other task. On any other day, you’d have a few of the boys lounging around your apartment, studying, doing project work, playing video games, spending their time in the comfort of your tidy home if they needed to get away from their own. Most of the time, it didn’t even feel like you lived alone.

Needless to say, with your main group of friends away on their trip, you were bored. With the boys doing their own trip activities, it was hard to get a normal, lengthy video call in. Procrastination was one of your biggest enemies in the deafening silence of your empty apartment. Without the company of your friends occupying your phone, and your current lack of self control, you were sprawled out on your bed scrolling through Instagram, your essay long forgotten.

You sat up abruptly when you opened Renjun’s story and were greeted with a photo of him and a shorter girl wrapped in his arms. Your chest tightened and at their bright smiles. You chewed on your bottom lip as you stared at the photo, the strange sensation in your chest growing. After a few seconds, you decided to close the app, the feeling (which, you concluded to be anxiety) building inside of you became overwhelming very quickly. You placed your phone face down on your bed and slowly laid back against the covers. You stared blankly at your ceiling and drummed your fingers on your bedsheets and chest.

A ding sounded from your phone and your hand flew to grab it. You hesitated to look at the screen though, unsure if you were hoping it was from Renjun or not. Ten seconds passed, and after a deep breath, you look at the message. A sigh fell from your lips when you read the contact name. It was from Jisung. You couldn’t tell if you were relieved or disappointed that it wasn’t Renjun as the anxiety in your chest continued to swirl.

bby chick <3: Are you busy rn bby chick <3: Can u vc bby chick <3: I miss you :(

You felt a pang of guilt for feeling slightly disappointed as you read the younger boys messages. You truly did miss him as well. The situation prior to his messages simply threw you off and into a frenzy of other feelings. Your fingers typed a response quickly.

: I miss you too :( : and no I am not busy, call me <3

It took no longer than 5 seconds for a video call from Jisung to pop up. After a deep breath to push down the previous discomfort within you, you put on a small smile and answered the call. The sight of Jisung’s face lighting up instantly when you appeared on his screen made your smile become more real, the photo of Renjun and that girl being pushed aside for the time being.

“Hii y/n!!” Jisungs voice was lively and excited. The setting sun shone a warm glow on him and the hotel wall. He waved to you, and you waved back.

“Hey Sunggie, how are you doing?” You asked. He didn’t hesitate to respond.

“I’m good, the guys and I miss you tons though! How are you?” Your chest tightened when he returned the question. It always broke your facade at times like this.

“I’m- I’m uh… yeah, I’m good.” Your feeble attempt at seeming okay was unconvincing as hot tears rolled down your cheeks with each blink. The uncomfortable feeling in your chest returned and your breathing quickened. Though your vision was blurred, you noticed Jisung’s expression fall into one of shock and panic.

“Wha- what’s wrong? Are you okay? Why are you crying?” He stuttered, reaching towards the camera as if trying to reach directly to you. You wiped your cheeks frantically with your sleeves and sniffled, a pathetic laugh falling from your lips.

“Yeah, I’m fine! Nothing is wrong, Ji, don’t worry-” Jisung cut you off gently. Tears continued to fall from your eyes involuntarily.

“Y/n… please don’t lie to me… you’re clearly not fine…” Your chest tightened more at the sadness in his voice. He didn’t like seeing you upset, it made him sad seeing his friend in distress. You tried to dry your tears again, but it was no use. With a quiet sigh of frustration, you ran your hand through your hair. There was no use in trying to lie again, your feelings were impossible to hide at this point.

“I- ugh. Yeah, you’re right. I’m not really okay- I’m sorry.” You looked down at your lap, fiddling with your fingers. Jisung furrowed his eyebrows at your apology.

“No!! Don’t be sorry!” He exclaimed. You glanced up at him and slouched further into yourself. Silence filled both of your rooms. You didn’t know what to say. You were embarrassed; your fear of being abandoned was consuming every bit of you with each passing second the longer you stayed in your head. Abandonment issues weren’t something you’ve ever talked about with any of your friends, there was never a reason to. Not until you saw that photo of Renjun.

The silence stayed for what felt like an eternity of being stuck in your own thoughts on a loop. No matter how many times you tried to tell yourself that Renjun would never just drop you out of the blue, the anxiety just pushed back. Part of you says “he wouldn’t.” but the other part of you fights back with “but he could.” It was a never ending loop; spiraling into yourself with no end in sight. Jisung snapped you out of your thoughts with a question that caused your cheeks to burn with anxiety.

“Do you want to talk about it?” You chewed on your bottom lip and tried to sort your thoughts before speaking. Tears began forming in the corners of your eyes again and they fell down your still damp cheeks when you blinked.

“It’s- ahh. It’s just- that photo of Renjun and that girl. It’s like, stupid but I think it was just anxiety saying like ‘oh Renjun found someone new he doesn’t love me anymore’ kind of-” The string of words fell from you lips quickly and in a mess, your insecurities growing and getting the best of you. Your voice cracked and you sniffled before taking a shaky breath and rubbing your eyes, giving Jisung the opportunity to speak. He was hesitant at first, his voice wavering slightly; he wasn’t exactly sure what to do.

“Hey- um- breathe for a second. Can you, uhm, can you show me the photo?” You nodded and picked up your phone to open Instagram. A feeling of dread grew in your chest and stomach as your finger hovered over Renjun’s story. With a deep sigh, you opened the story, the photo popping up on your screen. You stared at Renjun’s smile for a second before tapping on the small paper airplane icon and sending it to Jisung. You waited quietly as Jisung opened Instagram to see the image. You laid on your back and positioned your phone next to you so the boy could still see you when he returned to the call.

While you were swimming in your own variety of conclusions, Jisung stared at the photo you had just sent, unsure of his next words. He ran his hands over his face and through his hair, knowing that he could potentially make you feel even worse in one way or another.

“Y/n- oh my goodness. Okay- that’s not- that’s like Renjun’s second cousin. We just met her today!” You stared at your ceiling as Jisung returned to the video call.

“I… are you serious? Oh my gosh.” You groaned, tears beginning to fall faster again. Jisung frowned and furrowed his eyebrows, still hating to see you so upset.

“Yeah! Please don’t cry.” Jisung tried to comfort you as best as he could through a tiny screen. You sniffled and whipped the tears from your face, only for more to fall. He sighed softly, feeling slightly helpless.

“Look, even if that wasn’t his relative, I can assure you that all of us love you and we would never just up and leave you for anyone else. Renjun especially. y/n he…” He paused for a second, trying to pick his words cautiously to avoid exposing any secrets that weren’t his.

“You’re his best friend. He, of all people, would never, ever do that to you.” Your tears began to slow as you listened to Jisung, taking in everything he said. The external rationalization was reassuring, but the ache from the idea of losing Renjun continued to loom deep in your chest.

“I know that your anxiety clouds your judgement sometimes but if I can do anything to help at any time, please let me know.” He paused for a second, quickly realizing that you were keeping quiet.

“But if you can’t talk to me for whatever reason, try to remember what I just said.” You sighed softly. Jisung was really trying, and even though your thoughts continued to run wild, you were grateful for his efforts.

“Thank you, Ji. I really appreciate it. I’m sorry for all that; it was just a huge scare about my best friend leaving me over what turned out to be nothing.” You rolled your eyes at yourself. You jumped to conclusions and got upset over a misunderstanding; you felt foolish. Jisung perked up and was quick to validate your feelings.

“Oh! No, please don’t feel like you need to say sorry for feeling.” He frowned at you and played with his fingers. You pursed your lips and looked down at your lap. Silence lingered for a couple seconds before Jisung spoke up again.

“Um, okay. I’m sorry of this is a dumb question, but like- are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction..?” The question made you tilt your head and bring your eyebrows together in slight confusion.

“Uh? Yes? What do you mean?” Jisung turned away and scratched the back of his neck.

“Ah like, I dunno. The use of best friend- I mean like, are you sure you aren’t like, jealous?” Jisung turned his head down slightly, looking up at you with a careful gaze, nibbling the inside of his lip. Your eyes widened and you blinked a few times. Your lips parted to speak and you raised your eyebrows, but the words got caught in your throat. Why is this so hard to answer? You furrowed your brows for a second, regaining your composure enough to form some sort of coherent sentence.

“Oh- well I mean I guess maybe?? But no. What?? He’s my best friend and he’ll always be my best friend.” You tripped over your words as they came out in a mess. Your heart sped up and your cheeks warmed slightly. What is happening?? Jisung furrowed his eyebrows and tugged at his fingers as words began falling from his lips.

“Right- I’m sorry-” He started to panic, but you cut him off softly before he could ramble an apology.

“It’s fine Jisung, don’t worry about it.” You sent him a small, half smile. He chewed on his bottom lip and averted his gaze. Without letting the guilt-filled silence linger, you sighed and clapped your hands together.

“Enough about this stuff. Tell me more about the trip, what have you been up to?” You smiled softly. Jisung looked at you hesitantly and you nodded; an attempt at reassuring him. He took a second and raised his eyebrows before breaking into a smile.

“Well, the day after we arrived we just sort of slept in, but in the afternoon we went into the city...” You smiled as enthusiasm filled his eyes again, but his voice became mere background noise as you got lost in your thoughts once more. Jisung’s previous question coming back and lingering in your mind; “are you sure that was the only reason for your reaction?”

Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more.

You did your best to shake it from consuming you, wanting to focus on Jisung instead. But the tiniest voice in the back of your mind repeated in a loop, Renjun is my best friend. I don’t want anything more. Right?

Taglist: @lolibaaae @currentlyraisinghell

a/n: let me know if you want to be part of a tag list ^-^

disclaimer: updates will be stagnant. thank you for understanding :)

#neowritingsnet #thank you for reading!!#fic: why won't you love me #tw: anxiety #nct dream fluff #huang renjun #nct #nct dream #huang renjun fluff #nct fluff #huang renjun angst #nct angst #nct dream angst #huang renjun scenario #nct scenario #nct dream scenario #huang renjun imagine #nct imagine #nct dream imagine

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celebritytgcaptions · 4 years ago

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Requests (5/23/2021)

Hi lovelies! I’ve been getting so many requests & I’m working hard to get all of them in the queue. Thanks for sending them my way! I’m writing to let you know that the queue is now full until the end of June. I was able to get every requests from my May 8th post in there except for a few. Requests from May 8th for captions featuring Katy Perry, Jenna Fischer, Marisol Nichols, Addison Rae, Ariana Grande, Erin Kellyman, Taylor Swift, Billie Eilish, Jhene Aiko, & Kirstin Maldonado will be posted in early July.

But there have been an absolute ton of requests since then too, yay! So I’m listing all the requests that I haven’t gotten to below. If you made a request but don’t see it below that might be for a few reasons. 1) I’ve written it already and it will be posted in June. 2) It’s one of the requests I posted on May 8th so I won’t talk about it here. 3) I considered it a demand not a request (for example, I received two that said “Anything with,” that wasn’t really a request just telling me to do it. Sorry if this bothers some of you but it is an issue with me so make sure you word your requests AS requests). Either way, thanks for the love, lovelies! :D

Anonymous said:

Could you do one with either Kelley O’hara or Alex Morgan from the USWNT about a guy soccer player watching the US win the world cup and then want to be them or something like that?

I actually know who both those are (shockingly enough, I don’t really follow sports) so sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Could you do lorengrey captions? She’s so hot

Sorry sweetie, don’t know who that is. :(

Anonymous said:

Hi I just had an idea for a game you could do. It could be where someone has to say as a boy what they’re like physically in stages. So first stage is hair color for example, second stage could be height, third stage could be body type, etc. An example would be if I was a black hair, short height, thick body type, I would match up with someone like Nicki Minaj. Just an idea which you could extend on. Hopefully it makes sense. I appreciate you!

I actually have a game like this mapped out called “Build a Sissy” where you choose age, hair color, and bra size, but it would take a LOT of work to make so I haven’t written it yet. Maybe some day though. :)

Anonymous said:

I would love to see a Tori Kelly caption. Her hair and body are not typical but beautiful for a white girl. I say that last sentence respectfully. I think having a caption with her would be great

Sure thing! Tori Kelly is a cutie. :)

Anonymous said:

Ok I'm not sure if u'll know these 2 cuz even I had to look them up for the names but anne dudek and maitland ward theyre the 2 blonde sisters from white chicks not sure if uve seen it but if u can could u make a caption for them please?

I DO know who they are! I’ve been thinking about doing a White Chicks caps because there’s a lot of cute looks in that movie (especially for Busy Phillips who I just love) so sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Could u do Yvette nicole brown from community? Id like to see some big girl love

Sure thing!

Anonymous said:

I already know that this request is probably gonna be a No but I still have to ask whats the ruling on GCI enhanced celebrities like Taylor swift from Cats? Or is that too much like "Furry" stuff. Now I'm Feeling this will be a No for multiple reasons

So it is not an issue with CGI “enhanced” celebrities but for Cats it is because I do not have a Furry fetish and I get uncomfortable thinking about writing caps for it. But I write caps with “manips” all the time (photoshopped images of celebs) so I’m not ruling out CGI enhanced celebs all together.

Anonymous said:

Can you do one of Lindsey stirling? And for the story can it be a guy trying to learn Violin but he cant seem to focus he even tried hot female teachers but it didnt work then he gets a male teacher than he starts focusing and wanting to please the teacher he becomes a sissy sorry its a long request

Sounds fun, sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Hi big fan and I think you’ve been doing amazing work. Is there anyway you could do a story about a guy who loses a bet to sorority girl and is forced to get his nails painted and turned into a girl? I love the idea of having a boys nails painted against his will. I’d love one with Selena Gomez but if you think another celeb would be better I leave that cumpletely to you.

Totally! This sounds fun. :D

Anonymous said:

Can you do thelma and Louise?

I’m assuming you mean Geena Davis & Susan Sarandon from Thelma & Louise so yes. Yes I can. :)

Anonymous said:

Can you do a caption from the movie bridesmaids? Like when theyre all trying on dressess or something?

I haven’t seen Bridesmaids (I know I know) but I can try something. :)

Anonymous said:

it would be super cool if you could do some more games! They’re my fav

Glad you like them! As long as I’m not on hiatus, games will be posted every second Saturday. I’ve already got two set for June. :)

Anonymous said:

Hey huge fan of your recent work and super excited about new caps!! Do you think you could do one about a college guy who drops out in pursuit of being a stand up comedian, but the comedy club needs a female comic so they turn him into a girl? I was thinking maybe Nikki Glaser, she so funny and sexy. Thanks can’t wait to see all your new stuff!!

Oooo, Nikki Glaser is great. Sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Can you make a caption about a guy who makes fun of curvy and thicc women, where the women get their revenge and turn the guy into Nia Jax?

You got it!

Anonymous said:

Hi Me again on the topic of the assembly line worker caption sequel if you do it i just an idea for the story like before depicting the sissies "first time" but you can have it be that the coworker doesnt know and is telling everyone about the chick he slept with last night and the sissy is just thinking "if only they knew"idk i thought it was good anyways thank u again

So this message is in reference to a sequel caption that was requested & that I did write and will be posted in June. I’m sharing it here to let the anon know that I wrote the cap BEFORE I got this second request so there will be a followup but the story will be different. I hope that’s ok.

Anonymous said:

Hi idk if u watch wrestling or not I see u have some captions of wwe womens wrestlers but im not sure have far ur knowledge of it is? Could u do a caption of Rhea Ripley if u know her?

I have never seen a single episode of WWE, I do not watch wrestling, and yet somehow every time someone requests a wrestler I know who she is. Don’t ask me how because I do not know. Anyways, yeah I can do a Rhea Ripley one. :)

Anonymous said:

Could you do a caption about a janitor for sissy co. That finds out the strange goings on at work and tries to blow the whistle on the whole operation but is caught and turned into a sissy maid for the sissy co. Corporate office abit specific I know but ive been thinking on that awhile however u do it will be perfect thanks

You got it!

Anonymous said:

Could you do katheryn Hahn from wandavision specifically the 80s look with the Big hair and aerobics outfit

Oooo, sounds nice. I’ll type that up for sure. :)

Anonymous said:

Hi big fan of your caps!! Do you think you could do a cap where a football player wants to go to the NFL but gets hurt, so they turn him into a female commentator, maybe Lauren Rutledge? If you don’t know her, she’s been a college football reporter for awhile and was also a former Miss Florida. Anyways I just think any guy would be lucky to be turned into her and I love your caps keep up the great work!!

Me: *googles Lauren Rutledge to see if it’s who I’m thinking of* How do I know who this is? Anyways, yes I can write this. :)

...for some reason there are no GIFs of her though so I’m just gonna move on.

Anonymous said:

Hi I'm the one that requested the LONG list of celebs I'm still really sorry about that I didnt realize how many it actually was till I looked back so I wanna retract some for your sake tell ya what if you havent done any already just do the ones that are specifically marked (as in the ones detailed by movie or show theyre in) the ones that are just names you can leave out i knoe its still alot but hopefully that takes some weight off of ya sorry again

You don’t have to be sorry! Like I said, in the future I’d ask that folks limit requests to no more than 3 celebs at a time but you didn’t know that. I’d never said that before. I typed up every celebrity and they’re going to be sprinkled in during June. Hope you like them! :)

Anonymous said:

Hello ^^ I love your work. Can u make a caption with the name "jules" and Ariana Grande please? Thank you

Sure thing!

Anonymous said:

Hey, not really an ask, but something I needed to share

I'm the one that asked for the Stephanie Beatriz caption from a whole back, and I absolutely loved how it turned out. Each time you roll out a new caption is like a small thrill to me and I read them right as they're released.

Now this wouldn't be an ask if I wasn't asking something, right? Well, next month sees the release of the "In the Heights" movie, and there's an opportunity there to do a series of captions using stephanie Beatriz from that same movie.

In conclusion, I love your captions so much, you're amazing!

Awww, this is such a sweet message. Thank you! And YAAASSSSS! Ever since the first trailer for In the Heights dropped I was like, “I must write a caption with her in this!” So you can imagine how fun it’s been waiting this entire time. *eye twitches*. We’ll have to wait until the movie comes out for me to be sure I can find a good image but this IS a caption I want to write. :)

Anonymous said:

Hi I just recently came across your blog and fell in love with it!! The caption with the football player being turned into Bella Thorne is one of my favorites!! I’d love so much if you could do a sequel or something to that cap it was so amazing and I need to know what else happens to “her”. I’m not sure if this is possible or if you even do sequels but this cap was great and I look forward to all the others!!!

Glad you like it! I’m always looking for sequel captions to write on Throwback Thursday so you’ll get this for sure. :)

Anonymous said:

Hey big fan! Do you think you could do a caption where a short guy gets made fun of by all his girl friends for how short he is? Ariana Grande is fairly short and I think a caption of her (of age of course) would be awesome

You got it!

Anonymous said:

Can you do one with the bella twins as two guys who fought over the same girl then the girl turns them both into look alikes of her but then they start fighting over the same guy

Yep!

Anonymous said:

Do you know suzy berhow? Or angie Griffin? If so would love a caption of either of them please

Sorry sweetie, I don’t know who those are. :(

Anonymous said:

Would appreciate more Sia captions please when u get the chance

I will remember that. :)

Anonymous said:

Can make some Winnie Harlow caption please? I adore her style

Sorry lovely, I don’t know who that is. :(

Anonymous said:

How about instead of removing the captions with Demi in them ,the images of Demi were just replaced with another celeb and if Demi is mentioned by name in the caption then that could be edited to mention a different celeb. I respect Demi's decision I do but lets not lose some well made captions. Also if you could please make a caption where Amy Adams feminises a fan and raises them as her daughter and Kristen Stewart makes you her submissive wife that would be appreciated. I'm a fan of them.

So about the Demi Lovato captions: I understand your feelings but I’m still going to delete the original captions. Because of how my captions are made I can’t just go back in & swap out an image or edit the text, I have to remake it from the ground up. I am hoping to do that with some (maybe all) of the Demi Lovato captions & re-publish them, but I’m still going to delete the originals.

I can do the Kristen Stewart one for sure and I’ll TRY to do the Amy Adams one I just am not 100% sure I can find a pic for that but we’ll see. :)

Anonymous said:

If it’s possible before your summer hiatus could you do a caption with Amanda Crew (silicon valley, sex drive)?

I will do one with Amanda Crew but I can’t commit to doing it before the hiatus.

About the hiatus: I don’t know when it’s going to be. I want to TRY to make it to at least July 18th because I have a specific game in mind I want to post for 5 years of Celebrity TG Captions games, but after that I have no idea. I’ve been writing caps for a longer stretch of time since normal since I’ve switched to a part-time blog so I might burn out at any second but for right now I’ve still got some juice.

#Not a Caption #Requests #Request

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prettyboy-parker · 4 years ago

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favorite fics of 2020 (and a goodbye)

hi all!

first, i wanted to say this is inspired by one of my closest friends my bitch @honeybunstarker . thank u for that

secondly, i wanted to say a final goodbye. i know that i nearly left a few months ago, but i was still on the fence about writing for marvel then. now, ive lost all interest. thank you all for fueling my love for writing, and making these past two (??? i actually don’t know) years full of excitement and encouragement! from the ups (the blocklist, secret santa) to the downs (my favorite blogs and friends deactivating without a word), ive had the greatest time in this fandom.

in case you were worried, i am NOT deactivating. my fics will be available for you to read whenever you want.

but, i will not be writing for marvel anymore, nor will i be posting on this blog.

now that the sad part is done, i didn't want to leave you guys without anything to entertain yourselves with. so, here are my favorite fics, including some non-marvel, from this year!

(all descriptions are from the work itself)

my top fic from this year, which is also one of my favorite fics of all time, is a dog named sunshine.

“Bucky Barnes has issues. Mental health issues, and a whole lot of them, to be precise. Bucky is fucked up, and he knows that. His apartment looks like a dumping ground on most days, he can’t sleep through the night, sometimes he doesn’t shower for six days and doesn’t leave the house except to see his therapist once a week. Mostly, Bucky has no idea how the whole “talking about your problems” thing is supposed to help him, but sometimes his therapist has some really great ideas. Like getting a dog. Which is how Bucky meets Steve. Steve has blond hair and shoulders as broad as Bucky’s future if he wouldn’t suffer from depression and multiple mental disorders, and a waist as small as Bucky’s self-esteem. Steve also has a yellowish dog with floppy ears called Sunshine. And sunshine makes its way into Bucky’s life with a bounce in its step.”

a modern stucky fic which portrays depression in the best way i have seen in a fic so far. unfortunately, it has been orphaned before being finished :(

starker:

hey baby, slip between my beta-pleats and get to know my alpha-helix? By @starkerforlife6969 and @darker-soft-starker

“Even though Tony can't tell the difference between Manolo Blahnik and Jimmy Choo, Peter really has no other choice.

His heat is around the corner, so even though he loathes the party-going, booze drinking, smug playboy know-it-all that is Tony Stark-

He'll just have to do.”

if you asked me what my favorite starker fic of all time is, i’d tell you it’s this one

raising hybrid puppies by jaypendragon

“A non-powered Tony/Peter coffee shop AU with billionaire Tony and working-class, teenage Peter. Also, Toomes has a bakery and somehow Last Week Tonight is a genuine plot point.”

underage, slowburn, happy ending

even though it’s one of the most notorious fics for the ship, i never read it until the summer.

waiting for marriage by tuesday

“In which Tony gets married and kidnapped in that order.

—

Tony Stark went to Vegas to cause a scandal.”

just super fun!

push you out (pull you back in) by @lovelystarker

“So basically, Peter's kind of fucked. And not in the way that he wants to be-preferably by his mother's hot new boyfriend who has beautiful brown eyes and a disposition that's more than put-together. It wouldn't be so hard to ignore the crush, really it wouldn't, but Mr. Stark has practically moved in, so Peter can't avoid him if he wants to, and unlike his mom's past boyfriends, this one actually likes to spend time with him. So yeah, Peter's kind of fucked.”

just,,, wow. important to note that it is unfinished.

stucky:

you go to my head by alby_mangroves and brideofquiet

“Why would you do that for a man you don’t know?” Bucky asks.

Steve raises one slow eyebrow at him, then the other, till his expression turns from skepticism to disbelief. His forefinger and thumb reach into his shirt’s front pocket and draw out a wrinkled dollar bill.

Steve looks him in the eye when he says, very patiently, “For money, Bucky.”

40′s stucky is my favorite stucky

that boy is a problem by 2best friends

“In which a twinky little goth punk named Bucky puts a leash around Steve's dick and he's really into it.

(The leash is a metaphor. For now.)”

just porn

all the angels and the saints by speranza

“In which Steve Rogers loses God and finds God and loses God, and also: Bucky.”

if it makes you cry, it’s probably good!

sugar sweet by colorcoated

“College Student Bucky finds himself immediately attracted to Steve. He knows that Steve's a bit older than him, and that Steve himself is put off by the age difference. . . But that doesn't stop Bucky from wanting to climb him like a tree.”

the only slowburn i have tolerated

my bucky by cleo4u2 and xantissa

“Bucky finds a feral Alpha in the woods. Rather, the Alpha finds him. Bucky is sure it’s the end of his life as an independant Omega. It turns out to be the beginning of the strangest romance Bucky’s ever known.”

stony:

(i want you to see) the darkest side of me by ann2who

“In Monte Carlo, Steve meets the wealthy widower Anthony Stark. It’s love at first sight—at least for Steve—and he can’t believe his luck when Tony asks him to live at Stark Mansion, his large estate in Malibu. Never in his life had Steve thought something like this was possible… never had he been this happy. However, soon Steve realizes that Tony is still deeply troubled by the death of his first wife and haunted by the many ghosts she left behind. The longer Steve lives in her shadow, the more he understands that… He can never be what Tony’s wife had once been for him. And Tony might never truly love him.”

total mindfuck.

ironstrange:

let it be by lucifersfavoritechild

“While dealing with his son's car accident and a rapidly-dissolving marriage, Tony is drawn to Peter's surgeon, Dr. Stephen Strange.”

where severus snape is hot, not a stalker, and somehow gets the girl by utopiste

“Or: Peter Parker is sick and wants to cut his Neuroscience class. Tony just wants to help (and maybe date his son's hot teacher). Stephen Strange just wants to give his lecture in peace.”

miscellaneous:

geraskier: who needs plans anyways by NTK

“All witchers are alphas or betas by nature, since no omega has ever survived the Trial of the Grasses. Gerald has never had any problems with satisfying his needs on the occasional rut, for the whores from Poviss to Nilfgard were eager to be of service to a sturdy hunk like him. On the other hand, a certain omega/ bard/ occasional witcher tagalong has always made certain to acquire enough suppressants from local healers before setting out on a new adventure. That is, until the travels with his favourite White Wolf led the unlike pair into uncharted territory for longer than expected… life ensues”

philtriss: bound by sapphiresmoke

“Leashing involves a pupil being bound to their master in body, mind, and magic,” Philippa explained, folding her hands on the desk in front of her. “It is not something to undertake lightly, but if you accept, I will be able to share my magic with you, and instruct you in ways that would be otherwise be impossible if I were to only rely on verbal communication. It is intimate, it is at times invasive, but if you consent to this, Triss, it will make you vastlymore powerful, and from the look in your eyes, that seems to be exactly what you are looking for.”

vandermatthews: one more night like this would put me six feet under by jukeboxgraduate

“To be alongside the same person week after week, to share honesty and trust with someone day after day, is a rare treasure in a life that hinges on dishonesty. Hosea holds it close to his heart.”

din/cobb: every wave is a tidal if you hang around by wolfhalls

“Din comes to Mos Pelgo, and finds a lot more than he was looking for.”

and finally, rough day by @no-droids, because we all need to be a little indulgent sometimes.

#starker #stony #ironstrange #stucky #fic recs #geraskier #philtriss

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consumeconstantly · 4 years ago

Text

Small Buff Girl Sightings Ch. 5

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | ao3

3:00AM | CoffeeVamp: bb bat update us TheOG: ^^ more info on the situation in paris

3:28AM | Demonspawn: It is difficult to obtain information on Hawkmoth. The butterflies disperse after they are cleansed, and before they land their target, they don’t show up electronically. Coffee Vamp: o how the mighty have fallen i thought u said u could best me bb boi

3:42AM | Demonspawn: I’d like to see you do better. Coffee Vamp: IS THAT A CHALLENGE Coffee Vamp: ill take u up on that gimme 24 hours and ur going down TheOG: he has had a whole month so dont be too sure of that LadyLady: would you guys SHUT UP its two and some of us have jobs to do Coffee Vamp: cmon babs u luv us dont deny it LadyLady: Don’t make me hunt you down, Tim. Coffee Vamp: oOooO proper punctuation im shaking TheOG: just shut off notifications Babs TheOG: Bruce does Jesus: i don’t think the man has checked this chat in years Coffee Vamp: wdym brucie checks the chat all the time hes just a silent lurker Coffee Vamp: he doesnt even set himself to invisible

3:57AM | Daddy is away. Coffee Vamp: im so glad i have admin privileges imagine if i didnt bruce would have a boring normal nickname like his actual name LadyLady: good lord, why am I even in this chat?? Daddy: You’re supposed to keep them under control. Coffee Vamp: SEE I TOLD U BRUCE IS A SILENT LURKER> THIS. IS. SOLID. PROOF. IN YOUR FACE TheOG: nobody said otherwise Coffee Vamp: also how are the people have you made friends Jesus: Demon spawn? Making friends? Id be less surprised if he told us he has a new fling Coffee Vamp: is j right? Got a winter fling?

4:12AM | Coffee Vamp: ur lack of a response tells us nothing TheOG: im sure he’s just adopted his usual icy persona Coffee Vamp: haha hes the bb of so many things Coffee Vamp: bb vamp bb demon spawn ice ice bb Coffee Vamp: getitt im so funny

4:36AM | Coffee Vamp: guys?

“I told you I could get her to write her number on your cup,” Marinette grins with pride.

“And I told you I didn’t want her to.” Damian scowls and kicks a pebble in his path.

“You’re still wearing the clothes I picked out for you,” she points out.

“You told me to wear it. I wore it. I’m not interested in her.”

Marinette squints at Damian, evaluates whether he’s telling the truth or not. “Huh, you really aren’t interested. I guess it’s a good thing you didn’t wear the other outfit I picked out for you-- that one would have gotten her to ask you out on the spot.”

Damian groans. “We’re going to have to find a new coffee place.”

“Or we could just come when she’s not on shift and run away like mice when we do see her?”

Damian gives her The Look.

“But they have good coffee here,” Marinette whines.

“Maybe you should have thought about that before dressing me up and sending me to my death.”

“It’s not my fault! You only have your parents to blame for your looks.”

It’s true; both of Damian’s parents are good-looking. His whole family is, actually, adopted or not. All of the good looking people he meets are talented and have a tragic life story. Which is the cause and which is the effect, Damian isn’t sure. But it holds true even in Paris. All he has to do is look at Marinette or Adrien, though he’s not a hundred percent sure where the tragedy kicks in for Marinette. Probably the time when she was at odds with Lila, but he hasn’t looked much into the situation. He can even use Lila Rossi as an example. She has even worse color coordination than Damian is, but her features are model worthy. Lila Rossi is also definitely fucked up in ways that Damian doesn’t care to explore.

The effects of Marinette’s well-placed compliments has Damian thinking about himself in a positive manner that he never has before. Bruce is always stingy with praise, and the other senior members of the Justice League of America see him as another Robin that doesn’t need praise because competency comes with the mantle. Dick and Barbara compliment him occasionally, but that’s rarer now that his place is more firmly cemented in the family. Damian doesn’t think he’s ever had someone so willing to genuinely compliment him. Marinette’s compliments extend to more than just his looks, as well. She praises his technological skills as he sets up her website and has complimented him as he helps her out with whatever altercations she inevitably comes across on the streets. If he reveals his skills as Robin, reveals himself as Damian Wayne, will he receive even more praise?

“But since we did buy you that absolute knockout of an outfit, you’re going to have to wear it eventually. So whose heart do you want to steal?”

“I don’t want a relationship,” Damian repeats. They seem like more effort than they’re worth, and he always sees couples fighting and complaining about each other. Plus, they have to make time for each other and his alter ego doesn’t allow for that, though he supposes that he isn't Robin. At least, not right now.

“You don’t need to want a relationship just to flirt with somebody. Who’s it going to be? The intern at the Louvre? My parent’s newest hire? Oooh, how about Nicolette?” Marinette’s voice takes on a more mischievous tone.

Damian will give Marinette this much: her taste in the aesthetics of people is far from bad. The intern from the Louvre is two hundred pounds of lean muscle with a devil-may-care smile and a deep, belly laugh that makes people laugh with him, but Damian and he don’t have anything in common. Her parent’s new hire is knockout gorgeous, with warm brown eyes, and definitely the kind of girl Damian would have gone for as a one night stand back in Gotham. However, he’s also 98% sure that she has a very possessive boyfriend who stops by the bakery every time she has a shift. Nicolette is considered her college’s belle, and her intense gaze paired with her surprisingly friendly demeanor might have been appealing to Damian if she weren’t ten years older than him.

“I’m not into any of them,” he says, simply.

“Then who are you into? Surely someone has caught your eye in the past month?” Marinette looks genuinely curious, but her expression shifts into horror. “Oh my god. I’m so sorry. I never asked your preferences, if I was being insensitive, I’m sorry, I mean I’m pan, but you absolutely don’t have to tell me, it’s your right if you’re not comfortable.”

Damian does look slightly uncomfortable now that she’s looking at him more closely. His arms are crossed over each other, across his chest, and his hair is tousled. Then, he lets out a small laugh, and Marinette melts. “It’s fine, Pigtails. All of the people you listed are attractive, but I’m not attracted to them. I’m more of a personality guy, though I can’t say that personality has stopped me from things more than dates before.”

He’s had his fair share of hook-ups and makeout sessions in the past when feeling particularly frustrated with something that wasn’t going his way, though his primary method of relief is through sparring. Short missions and one night stands go fairly well together; he doesn’t ever have to deal with people wanting long term relationships, and even if they do, he’s gone before they know it. So far, he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in Paris, but then again, he’s only been here for a month and this is a long term mission. Whatever time he’s not with Marinette or at school is dedicated to piecing together the mystery that is the Miraculous and trying to figure out Hawkmoth’s identity.

“Oh,” Marinette continues to blush.

She’s clearly too embarrassed to bring up any other topic, so Damian decides that he’ll shoot the same conversation topic back at her. Marinette is attractive, and people she meets ask for her numbers and dates often enough. She’ll accept the former if they aren’t a total creep, but she always turns down requests for dates.

“And you? Why aren’t you out there questing for love? No crushes or significant others that I need to beat off with a stick?”

This does manage to lessen her flush. She frowns, turns something over in her mind.

“No crushes right now, no. I used to have a huge crush on Adrien just a year ago. He’s such a sweet person, but we don’t see eye to eye on important matters.” And also not into sex, either. Even physical affection hits him the wrong way sometimes, which makes Marinette worry even further for his well being with Lila’s constant touches. Still, he hasn’t said anything, and Lila hasn’t done anything more than grasp his arm or shoulders every now and then, to reassure the class that yes, they are the golden couple. Marinette also suspects that he is very unwilling to talk about the whole situation in general, and it’s not as though they’re super close.

Of course she had a crush on Adrien. Damian can see it now, Marinette looking at Adrien with her big blue eyes, her lashes fluttering when she gets close to him. Stuttering when she gets embarrassed or when she gets close to him. It makes his lungs constrict, but he’s not sure why.

“As for past relationships, there’s only really Luka. We had a pretty good run, but he’s out of the country, touring. He wanted to try long distance, but I didn’t really want that. But he’s respectful-- there’s no need to beat him off with a stick or anything.”

“I’m surprised a pretty girl like you doesn’t have more suitors,” Damian says, stepping over a crack in the sidewalk as they walk towards the park.

Marinette gags. “There are some other people who have been interested, but I wouldn’t exactly consider them relationship material. If you’re going after a girl just because she looks exotic, that’s sort of nasty. I guess I’m just unlucky in love.”

“At least you’re not as bad off as Ladybug is,” Damian jokes.

She looks at him strangely. “What makes you say that?”

“Well, first there was that creepy sculptor who must have been twice her age, then there’s Chat Noir who keeps flirting with her despite her requests not to, plus all of the random love akumas. I’m not even going to talk about the hordes of guys who chase after her, trying to get a date just because she’s a superhero. It’s not even like she can kick them between the legs because she has an image to uphold and all that.” He smirks, nudges her with his arm. “I’m surprised you haven’t done that with some of your stalkers.”

“Oh. You’re right, huh. Though, I don’t think Chat Noir has actually flirted for a while now.” Chat Noir has been very subdued as of late, and it makes Ladybug worry.

Marinette feels uncomfortable with the way the conversation has shifted. How does Damian know about all of these past akuma attacks? As far as Marinette is aware, most information about anything Miraculous related is difficult to get a hold of abroad, largely because the Miraculous try to hide their existence as best they can, and partially because Mayor Bourgeois doesn’t want word to get out that he hasn’t flushed a supervillain terrorist out even though he’s had three years to do it.

“Copycat happened three years ago.” It’s a question, almost.

“I figure I might as well keep up with the heroes of Paris. I’m here and they’re interesting.” Damian figures this is as good a time as any to bring up his interest in Hawkmoth. Marinette has been nothing but helpful and she’s definitely the kind of person whose heart is in the right place. Not to mention that she’s definitely smart and seems impartial; the one time he asked her about her thoughts on the heroes, he found out that she didn’t see them as perfect. She was able to critique Ladybug in full, which seemed pretty odd considering the rest of Paris seemed to have nothing but glowing praise for the heroine. “You’ve had some awful luck with akumas yourself. Weird how Ladybug didn’t show up when you got kidnapped by Evillustrator. One of the only times she didn’t show up for an akuma.”

“And what happened to the other heroes? It’s mostly Ladybug now. She must be in an awful state with her civilian life.” He looks off to the park, occasionally flicking his attention back Marinette’s face, evaluating her expression.

She catches his eyes and he swiftly looks away, looking almost nervous. Marinette stiffens. He knows, he knows, he knows, he can’t know. But how? How does he know that she’s Ladybug? She hasn’t let anything slip around him. She's been careful not to. Everything she’s ever said about Ladybug has been brief and curt, taking on an almost angry tone.

“If you’re so interested in Parisian heroes, I’m sure you saw the press conference Ladybug and Chat Noir gave last year about why the other heroes would be showing up less often.” Marinette keeps her voice carefully neutral. She needs to play this safe. She’s probably over reacting-- she’s been on edge with Hawkmoth sending out an akuma attack nearly every single day for the past few months.

Damian shakes his head. “It didn’t seem like good reasoning. Ladybug and Chat Noir are too untrained. They haven’t beat two villains in three years. They should let someone else take over.”

Marinette has come across a good number of Ladybug and Chat Noir haters throughout her time. Those who dislike the Parisian heroes often make the exact same arguments Damian is now. That they’re not fast enough. That they should have taken down Hawkmoth and Mayura already. This is nothing new to her, though it does hurt hearing it from Damian, for some reason. She can’t even argue with most of the points he’s brought up. Going mostly solo was because of her own, selfish reasons. She really should have beaten Hawkmoth and Mayura by now.

“The only thing they have going for them right now is that they’re keeping their Miraculous out of Hawkmoth’s hands.” She pretends that the reason why Chat Noir doesn’t show up to battle is to ensure that Hawkmoth can’t get both of the Miraculous in one fell swoop. It feels hopeless to fight villain after villain without any movement forwards. Her mind wanders to the increasing frequency of akumas and smiles, sardonically. “Some people think it’s only a matter of time until Ladybug and Chat Noir lose.”

“Hawkmoth almost seems to be the better strategist.” The two of them pass store front after store front. “Do you ever wonder what they look like, under the mask? Who they are?”

Marinette stares at the concrete underneath her feet. Hawkmoth, the better strategist? Laughable, and entirely incorrect. Even the people who hate Ladybug admit that her plans almost always work out, and that her plans are second to none. Really the only person who can possibly think that Hawkmoth is a better strategist is--

She can’t think like that. Damian is her friend. He’s just curious about Paris. Her lack of sleep and increase in paranoia re making her imagine things that are impossible. Besides, Damian isn’t on her list of suspects-- he told her he’s only been here for a short time, and Hawkmoth’s Miraculous definitely has a limited range. It’s a real pity that the world of Miraculous makes concrete evidence hard to come by, otherwise, Marinette likes to think Hawkmoth would have been behind bars already.

“No,” she lies. Hawkmoth haunts her dreams and every waking hour. She spends hours and hours on theories and scouring out information and people who fit the clues she’s painstakingly pieced together. “Not really.”

Damian’s eyes are a piercing green, and for a moment, Marinette thinks she stops breathing. “Is that so? I’m really interested in who Ladybug is under the mask. I’d love the opportunity to talk to her in person, especially about her Miraculous. The powers she has are… very interesting.”

No. There’s no way that Damian can be Hawkmoth, right? This is all just her paranoia speaking. Damian is just a foreigner who is interested in super heroes. It’s no biggie. Still, she can’t shake off the idea that there’s more to Damian than meets the eye. The way he walks-- no, prowls-- commands respect. Marinette can tell that he knows how to fight, and knows how to fight well. He’s very good at finding information on people-- she sent a whole case file to her on Renee and his situation with his mother within twenty four hours of going into the precinct, complete with video evidence Marinette knows should have been impossible to procure without hacking-- and keeps up with her critiques on Ladybug and Chat Noir’s techniques like he’s watched their battles over and over again. He remembers akuma battles Marinette has half forgotten, because they happened so long ago.

She stares up at him, hands shoved in the pockets of the jacket she chose for him when they went on their wardrobe makeover. Damian is surprisingly wealthy; he purchased anything she even glanced at with passing approval. He looks straight forward, apparently waiting for some response from her. Just because Damian is her friend, doesn’t mean she can immediately expunge him from her list of suspects. So far, she has taken all of Damian’s words at face value. It didn’t matter to her that he rarely talks about his family or his life before Paris. It didn’t matter that he hadn’t brought her to his home during all of the weeks that they’ve been hanging out together. Really, Marinette just figured that he had a rocky relationship with his family, and that he may have been on the poorer side and was embarrassed to show her where he lived. But clearly. Damian is well off enough to afford brand name clothes without batting an eye. Things aren’t adding up. All of the red flags that she’s blatantly ignored start to crop up in her head.

The book on the species of butterflies that akumas are made of, tucked under his arm. The way he showed up after every single akuma attack when she rarely saw him in the area before or during it. His knowledge of the three languages that form the basis of the Miraculous Tome-- Mandarin, Arabic, and English.

If he is Hawkmoth, what sort of emotions would he be feeling right now? Some sort of euphoria, maybe, realizing that he could get infinitely closer to Ladybug when she is Marinette. Anticipation, too. Has Marinette been hanging out with a super villain for the past month? Has she really come to the point where she can call a supervillain her best friend?

Marinette takes another look at Damian’s outfit. Master Fu said that the Miraculous Hawkmoth owns is in the shape of a brooch. Marinette sees no such object on Damian, which could either mean that he’s not Hawkmoth or that he’s just been taking it off whenever he’s with her. She’s really hoping it’s not the second option.

She needs to gather her thoughts, make a plan on how to proceed. When she’s sure that Damian isn’t looking, Marinette sets off the ringtone that is saved for her Maman’s texts and calls. This catches Damian’s attention, and she waves looks up from her phone as though she’s responding.

“Maman wants me to do a delivery. If you’re looking for more information on the whole superhero situation in Paris, I can get you Alya’s number. She runs the Ladyblog-- I’m sure she’d be glad to talk with you.” Alya also has some of the worst conspiracy theories that Marinette has ever seen. She doesn’t often keep abreast of what the Ladyblog’s portrayal of Ladybug is, but back when Marinette and Alya were friends, she was subjected to wild theories that made her stomach nauseous with how little logic there was. Which means that if-- if-- Damian is actually Hawkmoth, he might be thrown off by what she says.

“I’ll see you on Monday? Jagged texted me last night and wants me to change the embroidery on his commission.” This isn’t exactly a lie; Jagged wants one of the smaller details to be changed, but it certainly won’t take as long as she’s suggesting. Marinette hopes that it’s enough of an excuse to get Damian off her back for the rest of today and tomorrow while she reevaluates her game plans and life choices.

Damian waves her off. “I don’t think that Ladyblogger girl knows anymore than I do. She’s of no help to me. I’ll see you on Monday.”

Marinette’s reaction to Damian’s questions are weird. There’s an underlying tension that she exuded before they parted ways, and he’s still thinking about it a day later.

Marinette, who he always finds near an akuma attack right after it occurs. Marinette, who is emotionally and physically superior to most other Parisians. Marinette, who hasn’t been akumatized in a class full of idiots and other victims. Marinette, who doesn’t like Ladybug even though she seems like a fairly competent and kind hero, despite the fact that she hasn’t caught Hawkmoth yet. Marinette, who rarely talks about akumas despite all of the time he spends with her, which is highly unusual because even people he only briefly meets manage to slip in something about akumas into the conversation. Damian feels like there must be some sort of connection between Marintte and the akuma situation that he’s not getting, but it’s eluding him.

He sits down with his laptop in his apartment and looks up information about Marinette Dupain-Cheng. She’s definitely just as talented as he suspected; in her ninth year of schooling, she won a Gabriel competition, participated in a music video of Clara Nightingale’s, and collaborated with Jagged Stone on an album cover. So that was how she met him-- he wondered, but never asked. There are also a few instagram posts that have tagged her as a good samaritan and a few articles that detail a small, asian girl who’s going around Paris helping random people that are in need.

The weird things that Damian finds are contained in her school records. She’s apparently in very good company with her IQ, but what’s more interesting is all the dates that she is tardy or absent from school. They line up perfectly with all of the dates that akumas appear. He feels dread gather in his stomach.

A few more searches seem to cement his growing suspicions. Around the same time that Marinette obtained a truce with Lila matched up with when theorists believed that the Italian girl started working with Hawkmoth. He reads the instagrams and tweets of her classmates from the first year that Hawkmoth arrived, which talk about how excellent Marinette is at calming them down and guiding them to a better place. He also reads the posts of Chloe Bourgeois and Alya Cesaire and the articles about Marinette and Evillustrator that tell a slightly different story-- that Marinette is capable of manipulating others into more unpleasant situations.

Damian jolts. There is an incoming call from his father.

“Are updates on Paris, Damian?”

Should he give them a clue to his growing suspicions that Marinette is Hawkmoth? No, he can’t tell them until he gathers more information.

“No,” he says. “Information about Hawkmoth and the Miraculous are hard to come by.”

There’s a sigh and what sounds like the rustling of papers from the other side. “I figured. Tim and Barbara can’t find anything over here, either, but the Justice League is worried. They want results.”

“The Justice League and I agreed that having Robin make an appearance would be beneficial. Gain Ladybug and Chat Noir’s trust, or find Hawkmoth. Information might come easier with your alter ego.”

“All right.”

Another pause. He and his father have always had an awkward relationship. Bruce didn’t know of his existence until he was ten, and by that time, the most formative years of Damian’s life had already passed. Bruce Wayne may be many things, but good at dealing with children, he is not. Even after adopting so many children, he doesn’t know how to raise a child. Damian and his brothers have all raised themselves, with Bruce only stepping in when one of them is really going off the rails.

“Is everything else going well in Paris? School is good?”

“School is fine.” Damian wonders whether he should tell his father about Marinette. About the girl who is kind and capable and scarily efficient at dispatching criminals for a citizen and-- he can’t think about her like that. He decides against telling his father about her. She might be Hawkmoth, after all, and confirming her existence to his father means that he’s denying that possibility. “Gotham?”

“Nothing out of the usual. A few run-ins with the Joker.”

Another silence. The lapses in conversation aren’t awkward, but Damian thinks of the playful banter Marinette has with her parents and frowns.

“Goodbye, Father.”

“Goodnight, Damian.”

Damian looks around at his empty apartment. There is nothing in it, except for his suitcase and a few pieces of furniture. It’s nothing like the manor, where he knows that Tim is up at all hours slaving away on another project that Damian rarely gets to see, or that Jason is in the training room with Dick joining him occasionally. He can’t pick a fight with Tim or have Dick try to mediate the conflicts between himself and Jason. No nightly patrols with three or four people talking over the comms, or near instantaneous backup when he gets into a tight spot. There is no Alfred or Barbara or Cassandra or Bruce here. Only Damian.

He looks down at his laptop, at the various information and images of Marinette that he has up on his screen. In good conscience, he can’t continue being friends with her. Not with the possibility that she is the person he’s trying to hunt down.

He remembers her saying that being lonely is different than being alone.

Damian is lonely.

Patrol is a necessary evil.

Ladybug doesn’t hate patrol. She’s not very fond of it, though. It cuts into time that she could be spending sleeping or designing or anything else, really. In the beginning, it started as a way to figure out how everything worked under the guise of the dark and without the constant threat of an akuma hanging over head. Then, it progressed into disproving the theory about Ladybug’s age, because civilians aren’t inclined to believe that a teenage girl who has school the next day would patrol every day in the early morning. Now, it shows the Parisians how devoted Ladybug is-- that’s something that she’s struggled with ever since withdrawing the Miraculous from all of the part time heroes-- and lets Marinette blow off any steam that she has.

Right now, Marinette needs to blow off a lot of steam. Still, even as Ladybug, as much as Marinette wants to scream to high hell and back about how she’s been friends-- very close friends, she’d dare to say-- with the same person who has been terrorizing Paris for years, she can’t. If she screams, there will be media coverage on it, and she doesn’t want to deal with what the press would write up some article about how Ladybug was overworked and needed to bring back the other heroes, or that Ladybug wasn’t mentally sound enough to take care of Paris, she should just give up the Miraculous, or that Ladybug’s scream was [insert some poetic nonsense that English teachers wax about for hours even though the author never intended the audience to read that deeply into it].

Marinette doesn’t want to admit it, but she’s gotten close to Damian. She’s as close to him as she is with Kagami, Luka, Jagged and Penny. Damian knows that she’s MDC. He knows her hopes and aspirations. He knows her family, knows the majority of her friends, and knows what’s important to her. It will be so easy for him to tear her apart now. Marinette isn’t sure what Hawkmoth is waiting for, but she almost hopes that he’ll get it over with sooner rather than later.

What will Hawkmoth do first? Go after the website that he helped her make, probably. Cut off the financial support that she could use to run away and create another identity. Then, he’ll go after her friends, few and far as they may be. Renee next. Her family, last. She wonders who Mayura is, if he is Hawkmoth. She hasn’t seen anyone that’s close to him. Then again, Damian reveals next to nothing about himself. She’s never even seen where he lives.

There’s a shadow on the rooftops.

God, of course Hawkmoth would send out an akuma today. He knows how horrible her mental state must be. There’s no way he wouldn’t take advantage of that.

She yoyos over to the shadow, not close enough to strike or apprehend, but close enough to easily give chase without the akuma being able to give her the slip.

“Ladybug,” the akuma says.

“Cut the crap. We all know you want the Miraculous, Hawkmoth. Let’s get to it.” The shadow steps forward where a street lamp illuminates its costume, and once again, she is assaulted by the barrage of colors on her eyes. After seeing how awful Damian’s color coordination was, it’s easy to come to terms with the awful designs of all of his costumes. Still, she’s surprised that the boy who dresses in the same outfit every day creates such outlandish costumes for all of his minions.

The akuma frowns, tenses.

“I’m not Hawkmoth,” it insists. “I’m Robin, a vigilante from Gotham. I’ve come to learn more about the current situation and aid you in taking Hawkmoth down.”

Ladybug scoffs. She’s not sure what this akuma’s tactic is, but none of the others have tried to lie to her so blatantly about their identity. And ripping off an identity? That is a new low, even for Hawkmoth. She’s sure that the real Robin didn’t agree to this, and if she were close with the vigilante, maybe she could get him to throw a lawsuit or two at Hawkmoth once he was in custody, just for kicks.

Robin the akuma scrambles, apparently looking for something that can verify his identity.

Ladybug strikes. There’s no pride in striking an opponent when they are distracted, but it’s a means to an end. If Damian is dumb enough to send out an akuma confused about its identity tonight of all nights-- a night where Ladybug is distressed and it would be all too easy to take advantage of her-- then she’s going to take advantage of it.

It’s easy to bind the akuma. Startlingly easy. The akuma is different tonight, then. His powers have something to do with close contact, maybe? Ladybug looks on his person for things that could be the point of akumatization, eyes flitting from Robin’s waistband to his mask.

She comes to an unpleasant conclusion. The measurements and the coloring are a perfect match. Hawkmoth has come to meet her in person.

“Damian,” Ladybug hisses.

Damian’s eyes widen, like he doesn’t know how she’s pieced together his identity. How stupid does he think she is? He’s been dropping hints constantly. Information a transfer to Paris shouldn’t know. Never telling Marinette anything personal. Always being near an akuma attack when it happens. It’s almost like he wanted her to figure out his identity.

“How did you know?”

“Please, Hawkmoth, did you really think that Marinette couldn’t connect the dots? You must have thought awfully little of her if you thought that your constant appearances near all of the akuma and questions about the Miraculous didn’t lead me to your identity.”

“Hawkmoth? Ladybug, I’m not Hawkmoth, I’m Robin.”

“And I’m the queen of England. Renounce your Miraculous now, Hawkmoth. Or I’ll beat you until you detransform and take it from you.”

Damian looks confused before his face contorts to an expression of resignation. He recognizes a cold fury in her eyes that is distinct to people who won’t give up until they get their way, and there’s really no other way around this right now. He should have brought his comm with him, but he wasn’t expecting to meet Ladybug tonight; he just wanted to assess the situation as Robin, to get out from his apartment for a second. Rookie mistake.

True to her word, Ladybug beats Damian unconscious and also until he’s black and blue. She’ll be lying if she didn’t say she took out some of her fury from the past years on him.

But here’s the thing; Damian doesn’t detransform. He stays in his god-awful costume that has the same disgusting shade of mustard yellow as that one top Damian owns. That’s not what’s supposed to happen. When Miraculous users faint, they detransform because it takes a sort of mental awareness to handle the powers bestowed upon them. Is it different because Damian is an akuma? Is there some sort of Miraculous bylaw that if a Miraculous user gets akumatized, they get to stay in their alternate form? Oh wait, that’s right, he’s an akuma, not Hawkmoth right now.

Ladybug stumbles forward, breaking all of the weapons that are on his belt, taking off his mask and breaking that as well. No akuma comes out. She tries his gloves, then his boots. She pats him down, seeing if there’s anything she missed. She rips his suit, too. Nothing. There’s no brooch in his personal effects either.

What is she supposed to do now?

Seeing no alternative, Ladybug picks Damian up and yoyos back to Tom and Sabine’s Boulangerie to safely detransform and figure out what the fuck is going on.

He’s not Hawkmoth, is the conclusion Marinette comes to after a side by side comparison of pictures of the vigilante and Damian. The horrifying conclusion: the person lying on the floor of her bedroom is actually Robin, the vigilante from Gotham.

Marinette knows it’s better to err on the side of caution, but she still buries her head in her hands in embarrassment. How can she have gotten him so wrong? She really needs to get better at reading people, because deciding that random civilians are Hawkmoth clearly has not paid off.

She also cannot believe that the Justice League has decided to step in now, and with a sidekick from America, of all things--Marinette is pretty sure that she sent the videos to the European branch. It must have been three years since her first notification to them. She contacted them immediately after Stoneheart, and again, after Syren when she was distraught at the death that surrounded her. With no response, there was nothing she could do. She has to start relying on herself and her own skills.

Ladybug only contacted them once more, after Heroes’ Day. At that point, Ladybug had been thinking for a while that someone who was naturally superpowered or someone with a high grade of intelligence-- like the heroes affiliated with the Justice League-- would do more harm than good if they were allowed in the city. After the devastation of her teammates being akumatized, and the nearly week long battle that ensued, she was certain that she could barely fight her teammates, let alone trained professionals. So with shaky hands and red rimmed eyes, she said to please disregard her earlier messages; the situation in Paris wasn’t that bad, and Ladybug could handle it.

Damian groans. Marinette jumps; he is waking up far earlier than she anticipated. She wants to transform back into Ladybug. Being in her spots gives her a pseudo sense of security. First, though, she has to restrain him. Even though he isn’t Hawkmoth, she’s not sure whether he’s a threat or not. She makes quick work of it, using the thickest zip ties that she has on hand and restraining his arms and legs.

She doesn’t get the chance to transform back into Ladybug, but that’s just as well, because at the end of the day, Marinette is the foundation of anything that makes Ladybug a hero to the public. Damian opens his eyes almost immediately after she has finished restraining him, taking in his surroundings and the person in front of him.

“Marinette? Where’s Ladybug?” No questions of how he got there; Ladybug can clearly carry her own weight and more. No questions as to why there are zip ties cutting into his wrists and ankles; he has seen too many of Marinette’s victims on the streets.

“What do you mean, where’s Ladybug?” Marinette is right in front of him. She might not have the suit on, but at the end of the day, she does have the Ladybug Miraculous, which means she’s Ladybug through and through, and Damian must know that. Otherwise, there’s no real reason for Robin to be spending so much time with Marinette. The fact that she feels more real and true to herself as Marinette than as Ladybug probably means nothing to him.

“She knocked me out on a rooftop. Didn’t know that you two knew each other personally. I’m not Hawkmoth, by the way.” He twitches, then realizes that he’s been tied up. “Why’d she leave me with you?”

So he doesn’t know that she’s also Ladybug? This whole thing keeps getting more confusing. Still, the less people that know about her alter ego, the better. Marinette will keep him in the dark. She attributes his blatant misunderstanding to the identity concealment magic of the Miraculous. It’s powerful stuff. If it didn’t exist, she’s sure she would have found concrete evidence as to who Hawkmoth is by now.

“She asked me to assess whether you were a threat or not. Whether or not she casts the Miraculous Cure is contingent on my response.”

“Ladybug wants you to assess whether I’m a threat or not? Why’d she leave a possible super villain with a civilian?”

“I help Ladybug out with many things.” Her voice turns to clinical detachment. She uses this method to dissociate as Ladybug when things get overwhelming. Assess the situation. Get in, deakumatize, get out. Marinette needs to distance herself. It’s bad enough that the situation is this convoluted, but she doesn’t need Damian to doubt Ladybug’s capabilities as well. “Ladybug knows that you’re not Hawkmoth now, and she knows that I can handle myself with any run of the mill bad guy, even if they are a supposed vigilante.”

“Tell me, Robin,” Marinette spits the name like a curse, “Why should I tell Ladybug that you’re not a threat? That you are who you say you are?”

In all honesty, all Marinette wants to do is knock Damian out again so she can collect her thoughts. She’s not sure how she should address his presence as Robin in Paris and is still reeling from the whiplash of thinking he was Hawkmoth only for him to turn into a foreign vigilante. Next thing she knows, he’ll tell her that his name isn’t even Damian Grayson. Well, now that she thinks about it, he’s definitely not. After this encounter finishes, she’ll look up Damian and Gotham and see what she gets.

He looks flustered, like he never expected anybody to question his identity or presence. It’s laughable, really. Marinette doubts that the Justice League actually sent him; he’s probably here to explore on his own. That means he’ll only be a pain in the ass to deal with. Maybe she needs to get into contact with the Justice League again, if only just so she can deport Robin with more ease.

“I can call Batman,” he says.

Marinette doesn’t think this is a very good solution. There’s no way for her to prove that the person on the other side actually is Batman and not some actor. But after racking her brain, she can’t come up with a much better solution. It’s not like Robin has any superpowers that she can request to see, and she doesn’t have a direct line to anybody from the Justice League.

“Fine. Call Batman.”

“It’s in the pocket near on my right side.” Marinette doesn’t bother going closer to him. She destroyed everything on him earlier, in case it was the akuma’s vessel. Ladybug thought she came across a phone, but now she’s glad she smashed it and left it on that random rooftop. He probably has some sort of tracker on his phone. In any case, Marinette thinks it’s weird for a vigilante to have a phone on them while on the rooftops. Shouldn’t he have an earpiece or something?

“Your phone was destroyed by Ladybug. Tell me the number to call. I’ll put it on speaker.” Marinette isn’t sure if the number he’ll have her call will be some sort of secure connection or direct line that is only accessible through Damian’s phone, but she doesn’t particularly care because the Miraculous Communicators are exactly that. Miraculous. Master Fu assured her that all communications were private and impossible to crack unless they also had a Miraculous. Which is why she’s using the Miraculous Communicator to call Batman.

Damian winces, then speaks into the offered phone.

“Batman, it’s Robin. I need to verify my identity in order to proceed.”

“Are you with Ladybug?”

So he is on a mission, then, and not just playing hooky. If Batman is involved, Marinette has no doubt the rest of the Justice League will follow soon. This will be a dreadfully unpleasant call.

“I’m making it a video call,” Marinette says. “And no, he’s not with Ladybug. I’m Ladybug’s point of contact, and she doesn’t take kindly to people encroaching on her territory without permission.”

“Robin, what happened?” Batman isn’t accepting her video request.

Marinette cuts off whatever Damian is about to say. “Damian was suspicious; I reported his activities to Ladybug and she believed that he could be Hawkmoth. Then, she caught him on the roofs and took him back to my place after verifying that he wasn’t Hawkmoth. Video call, Batman. I’d like to see that you are who you say you are, before I send Robin back to the states.”

“She knows your civilian identity? Two people know that you’re Robin?”

“Turn your video on. If you can’t prove that you are who Damian says you are, Ladybug and I will do everything in our powers to deport him and make sure that the Justice League is not allowed in Paris again. Ladybug said that she doesn’t need any unknowns in her city, and I’ve been hoping Robin came here of his own volition. It sounds like that isn’t the case.”

Marinette thinks that Batman curses in English, but she’s not sure. Fluent though Marinette may be, she is not well versed in curses, colloquialisms, or American memes. The camera turns on. It’s Batman, or at the very least, an actor wearing a very good knock off costume.

It’s annoying that Marinette can’t see his eyes. There’s some white film where his eyes should be, and the fact that his cowl covers more than half of his face isn’t doing her any favors in letting her read his facial expression. She moves herself so that Batman can see both her and Robin.

“Why is Robin restrained?”

“Like I said: he was suspicious. I’m not taking any chances.”

A moment of silence.

“How do you want me to prove my identity?”

That’s good. He’s not asking who she is, though she’s sure that there are cameras pointing at the screen on Batman’s end, running facial analysis and background checks on her. The Miraculous magic will ensure that any connections between her and Ladybug will not come to light. Other than her identity as Ladybug, Marinette has nothing to hide.

“If you’re Batman, then you should have access to the League’s calls, European and otherwise. Play me the last video that Ladybug sent you. I know what she said.” She spares a glance at Damian. His jaw is tight, but when he looks at her, she finds what looks like regret. It’s not entirely Damian’s fault. A mission is a responsibility, and Marinette understands that in order to be a hero or vigilante, one must be willing to do anything to accomplish the mission. Really, she’s only Ladybug because she feels that heavy weight of the words duty and responsibility on her shoulders. Fu’s fault.

“Behave. If you try something, I’ll knock you out.” Marinette sets the communicator on her desk and eyes him. The zipties are so tight around his arms and legs that he is bleeding. Marinette feels a flash of sympathy, then pushes it away. It was his fault for-- why was he at fault, again?

“I have the video.” Batman sounds even peakier than when they started the call. He plays the video.

“Justice League. This is Ladybug. I rescind my requests for help; I can take care of Paris with my own team. Any help from you at this point would be a detriment and could potentially harm the citizens of Paris. Hawkmoth manipulates strong emotions, and I don’t need to handle a metahuman or tactical genius to gain more power to wreak havoc on my city. I will not contact you with any further requests for assistance.”

It’s an awful video. Marinette had to wait a day after the Heroes’ week fiasco just so her eyes wouldn’t be red. At least her voice doesn’t waver in it. There’s a conviction in the whole video that was unique to that moment.

Marinette looks at Batman, then at Robin.

“Clearly the Justice League refused to listen. Ladybug doesn’t want or need your help at this point in time. Why are you here?”

“The Justice League is at fault for not paying attention to Ladybug’s other videos. But Mayor Bourgeois and President Macron can only cover such alarming incidents for so long. Ladybug and her… team clearly need help in order to find and take down Hawkmoth, so once the American branch of the Justice League found out half a year ago, we started to investigate.” Batman speaks in lieu of Damian. Marinette briefly wonders if Damian knows who Batman is under the mask. She bets he does. They’re probably close, what with how worried Batman sounds.

“What makes you think that the Justice League is any better equipped to handle this situation? Ladybug and her team have been fighting for the past three years and resolved every akuma with no help from you. She needed your help in earlier years. Now she doesn’t.”

“Exactly; it’s been three years and she still hasn’t caught Hawkmoth.”

“You say that like the Justice League doesn’t have a team with more wealth and manpower than Ladybug does that’s been looking into Hawkmoth and the Miraculous for the past half year and clearly has not found any reasonable leads. Ladybug has only been actively looking for Hawkmoth for the past two years, not three. The police handled the first year, not that you’ve done any homework on the situation. Thought that a field agent would help your chances?”

There is fire in Marinette’s stomach. Batman sounds so dismissive of all of the work that she’s been doing. It’s been hard on her; she doesn’t have the support that she needs and doesn’t have the experience or expertise to hunt down Hawkmoth on her own. She trained briefly under Master Fu to learn spells and ways to expand her powers as Ladybug, but that was an equivalent exchange: she no longer trusts that other holders won’t be akumatized. Her growing cynicism and physical training from Maman came at the expense of Chat Noir; after the whole Lila incident in her first year as Ladybug, she found out that Chat Noir and Adrien were one and the same. And Gabriel Agreste is not afraid to use his son until Adrien is stretched far too thin, which forced Marinette to nearly bench her partner.

“Three years,” Batman says again.

“If the Justice League can’t figure it out nearly unlimited resources and funding in half a year-- both ordinary and super human-- then clearly it isn’t a question of time. It’s a question of capability. Get off your high horse, Batman. You haven’t given me any reasons why Ladybug and I shouldn’t deport Robin here, and you’re definitely not making a good case as to why she shouldn’t go to Mayor Bourgeois and France’s president to ensure that the Justice League and its affiliates and ban hero travel into Paris. Bourgeois already doesn’t want information on it’s supervillain situation to get out.”

“Marinette,” Damian pleads.

As Robin and as Damian, he doesn’t pose a threat. He hasn’t been helpful, but he certainly hasn’t messed with the status quo for the month that he’s been here. Still, he is a liability. If he stays in Paris, he is the gateway for the other members of the Justice League to fly in and try to commandeer the fragile balance that she has found. She can’t afford for something like that to happen.

“You’re not any better, Robin. Why did you even hang around me? Thought I was a threat?” Her eyes narrow in realization. It makes sense why he decided to hang out with her, despite his initial cold front. He was playing a role.“You thought I was Hawkmoth.”

His silence is an agreement.

“We just want to help,” Damian says, and against her better judgement, Marinette believes him.

Her shoulders round, and Marinette sighs. She can’t truly begrudge Damian for that train of thought, not when she believed the same about him. She’s been a little harsh on them so far, in part due to old resentment that they never responded to her in that first, awful year when she needed the help.

There’s a dull tiredness that comes with knowing someone who she considered one of her closest friends suspected her of being a supervillain, though she did believe the same of him, so maybe they’re even. It still hurts, though. It hurts like when Alya decided that Marinette was mean-hearted enough to stop the members of their class from reaching their full potential. It hurts like when Marinette finally realized that she couldn’t repair their friendship, not to what it used to be. It hurts like when she looked around the classroom and realized that she couldn’t talk to anyone there. It hurts like when Marinette decided that she couldn’t risk helping her friends the way she wanted to.

“What kind of help can you offer us? We don’t need any more of you to come out here.” Resources are nice. More money to fund therapy programs around town won’t hurt. Master Fu doesn’t help on that part. Really, he doesn’t help at all. Even though she has Chat Noir and had a team, she often feels like it’s herself against the world. Some days, she reaches up to her earrings and feels an aching emptiness, like there’s something more to the Miraculous that’s been sealed away.

“We can give you resources. Money, connections, experience. Robin is good with technology. He can help you track down where Hawkmoth is.”

Marinette’s laugh is bitter. “Sure, he can try, but the butterflies Hawkmoth sends out aren’t visible by the normal human eye or electronically until they’ve found their mark. Once they’re purified, they’re just normal butterflies, and they go off in random directions.”

“Normal human eye? It sounds like there are exceptions.” Damian readjusts himself. He has fidgeted his way into an uncomfortable looking seiza position, where his ankles are bleeding.

“A true holder can see the butterflies at all times.”

Marinette also decides to throw them a bone so there’s no questions as to why a mere civilian is working with Ladybug. “That’s why Ladybug recruited me. I was Multimouse.”

Multimouse was in the file that Damian sent his father, but he asks, just to make sure. “The one that can split itself?”

“That’s correct. I guess now is as good a time as any for the two of you to get your questions answered.”

“Why are you the point of civilian contact instead of any of the other more frequently used heroes? Didn’t you appear only once?” Damian avoids looking Marinette in the eyes, and that makes her feel slightly better. He’s ashamed of his actions. Good.

“Ladybug said that the other hero’s civilian forms were either compromised or not in a good position.”

“Ladybug knows who all the holders are.” Batman speculates. He looks less tense now that Damian is no longer tied up, but his voice remains gravelly and distrubed. Maybe that’s what he sounds like all the time. “Who else knows? Do you?”

“Only Ladybug knows.” Marinette lives in half truths. She’s not sure that they’re much better than lies, but they’re all she has. Secrecy is the only thing Master Fu has sincerely taught her.

“Why have all the other heroes disappeared?”

“Ladybug said that it was too dangerous for someone who could be akumatized to hold a Miraculous. Rena Rage, Shell Shock, Queen Wasp-- they were all frighteningly powerful akumas. It’s also why Chat Noir has been showing up less and less; his home life is not the best, and she’s trying her best to ensure that he doesn’t get akumatized.”

“She’s not worried for herself or,” Damian’s eyes flick to Marinette, away from Batman. “For you?”

“She knows that both of us are good at dealing with stress. We have our own methods of coping.” She looks at Damian, her mouth tightening into a frown. “If you want to stay in Paris, I’ll cut you a deal. We can work together for two weeks, and if we don’t get any results, you have to leave and the Justice League must promise that they won’t interfere again.”

“Two weeks isn’t enough time,” Damian objects.

“If you don’t think it’s enough time, just leave now. I’ll say now that I’m only willing to work with you during the night. That’s the time I work on Miraculous related stuff now, anyways. And stay out of the akuma battles.” She doesn’t actually think that working together will help anyways, and she wants Damian gone sooner rather than later. He’s been making her feel too much and emotions that are far more explosive and easy to take advantage of than Marinette has in a long time. She doesn’t want to be targeted by an akuma because of her inner conflict.

“Two weeks, then,” Batman agrees. “Robin can contact me if you need any extra resources.”

Marinette hangs up and assesses Damian. He looks almost pitiful, with bruising around his eyes, tousled hair, a ripped suit, and cuts where his skin is exposed. She opens her trap door in a clear gesture for him to depart. Downstairs is dark; her Maman and Papa have long since gone to sleep, and it’s only a few more hours until they wake up to start baking. “We start tomorrow. If you need Ladybug for anything, tell me.”

He’s half way down the ladder when he looks back up at Marinette, into her eyes.

“I’m sorry,” he says.

Marinette can’t breath. She feels like vomiting. His eyes are so green in comparison to the purple bruising on his face. She did that to him. She made him look that way. All she’s ever wanted to do as Ladybug is protect the people she cared for. But Damian-- Marinette doesn’t know. She doesn't know whether what Damian has done can actually be described as bad. He was just trying to do what Batman told him to do. Keeping an eye on a threat. Marinette wonders how long he thought she was Hawkmoth. She wonders if he ever thought they were friends.

“I’m sorry too,” Marinette says, and shuts the trap door.

They’re both sorry for very different things.

#miraculous ladybug #dcu #mlb x dc #maribat #daminette #batfam #jason todd #bruce wayne #dick grayso #barbara gordon #sbgs #original content #adrien agreste #lila rossi #marinette dupain cheng #damian wayne

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obsidianfr3sk · 4 years ago

Text

the star of my sky

@renegadesnet event 8: friendship february

↪ [ Kasumi Hasegawa & Evander Wade / “If you'll be my star, I'll be your sky.”]

Summary: She could imagine her future, but she couldn't imagine herself not being friends with Evander. Kasumi would never be able to take her things and move to another place where he was not part of it. Because Kasumi would never voluntarily leave her home. And Evander had been her home since the first moment he walked through that door.

AO3

Hi, there!! This is my entry for the event 8 of @renegadesnet. I hope I’m not too late x’d in my time zone, it’s 9:06PM right now, so... I guess I’m fine. I feel like an irresponsible high schooler summiting her homework at 11:59pm... No, wait, that’s actually what I am.

Well x’d as you could see from the caption, this a fic focused on Evander and Kasumi’s friendship. I don’t even know why I’m so invested in this... made-up relationship (since they didn’t interact at all in canon) but I think it all began because when I started writing fics about the Council, I remembered Hugh and Simon weren’t the only members of it and that the rest of them needed to have, you know, personalities and relationships between them, details that MM seemed to forgot jaja. And these two just inmediatly made click with each other, at least in my head, and I’ve been dying to write something about them for a long time, but I think I never worked up the courage to actually do it until now:’) I’m even thinking about a small sequel but yeah

Despite what I said before (that for me the interest in these two started when I began to write my own fics) my dear mother Dawn ( @honey-hippie-harper) had a lot of very interesting headcanons about the whole dynamic the Council had during the Age of Anarchy, and two of those headcanons are that they all slept in the same bed they had at Simon’s basement and that when Adrian was born they decided that it would be better if some of them moved somewhere else, so it would be harder for people to discover their true indentities. Georgia and Adrian moved to an apartment Simon got for them, Simon and Hugh move to another one, and Tamaya got her own place, while Kasumi and Evander stayed at the Westwood house. So, for this fic, I decided to write based on those two specific headcanons. All credits to her!

Also this is gonna sound super weird but here I mention that Evander wears a cap x’d and that’s based on my other mother Wins ( @healing-winston-pratt) design of him, which you can find here! You know the drill, gente x’d go, like and reblog it!

Dawnie, Winston, this is a fic dedicaded to the two of you. Thank you for being such good mothers and friends to me✨

Since this an “unpopular” brotp I’m not quite sure who to tag, I really don’t want to bother anyone x’d but, @all-weather-is-bad and @ifyouhadntbutyoudid, I know you guys also love their dynamic so I think you may be interested on reading this! And if you also like my work, please like and reblog, it means the world to me <3

Also please forget any grammar/spelling mistakes, I feel phisically sick right now because I took a pill and it’s making me so freaking dizzy I think I’m gonna throw up or something x’d

I live to let you shine,

but you can skyrocket away from me,

and never come back if you find another galaxy,

far from here, with more room to fly.

Just leave me your stardust to remember you by.

The last days they spent living in the house were somewhat chaotic. Perhaps a part of it was due to the fact that now that Adrian was with them, they were all deprived of sleep. However, Kasumi was sure that it also had a lot to do with the fact that they had not realized how much of a mess the whole house actually was until the time to move out came and they couldn’t find their things.

Well, she wasn't moving out. But the rest of them were.

And that was something that Kasumi had been thinking about a lot since the moment that Georgie's pregnancy was made public, but that she had never dared to say it out loud because she was too afraid of the answer.

She didn’t have to say anything though. They gave her an answer as if she had asked them; her family loved to give their opinions even when nobody asked them to do it.

It turns out that they could no longer live in Simon's house.

At least not the six— seven of them.

The city had gone crazy with Adrian’s birth (or Baby Indomitable, as they had affectionately named him), and while it was a good type of crazy, it also made them a little nervous that this new member of the family would put their secret identities at risk. Now, every time they came out in their civilian form, people were going to be looking everywhere for a woman who looked like Georgie, was holding a newborn baby and, as a bonus, was accompanied by some blond or brunette guy, a red-haired boy or a girl with dark hair.

Yes, they couldn’t take that risk.

“… But when you want to open that door,” Simon was telling her, “you have to push it with your shoulder, because if you don't—”

“It will not open,” Kasumi said.

“It's not going to open,” Simon agreed.

“She lives here too, Simon,” Tamaya said washing the glass in which she had been drinking water. “She knows how to open the door.”

All six of them were sitting at the dining room table. Georgie was nursing Adrian, while the rest ate a tasteless soup that they had made three days ago and that was surely going to spoil if they did not eat it that night.

“Yes, but there is anything wrong with remembering important points,” Simon noticed. “It is the first time that she will live alone.”

“She won't be alone,” Evander exclaimed suddenly. “She's going to be with me,” and he continued sipping the soup.

Hugh scowled at him. “Stop sipping your soup, Evander.”

But that only made him sip the soup harder. Hugh rolled his eyes and Georgie put Adrian on her shoulder to make him burp.

“I still can't find my cap,” Evander continued, touching his hair. “It seems to me like you have it in your box and wanna steal it.”

“Why would I want to steal your cap?”

“Maybe because you don't have one.”

At that moment, Adrian burped and Hugh's face lit up.

“That's what I think of your stupid cap,” he replied, pointing at Adrian.

Even Kasumi laughed at that joke. But Evander didn't find it funny.

“Good thing you're leaving now,” he said, clenching to the spoon with which he was eating his soup. “I don’t like any of you.”

“You don’t even like Kasumi?” Georgie asked, pretending to be surprised. Simon took Adrian in his arms so she could adjust her blouse properly.

Before Evander could answer, Hugh did it for him. “I heard him say in his sleep that he hated Kasumi the most.”

Evander tried to throw the spoon at him, but Tamaya grabbed his wrist and nearly ripped off his hand.

“Not in my watch, you fu—”

“Tamaya,” Georgie scolded her. “Remember what I told you.”

Tamaya looked at Adrian for a second and then focused her gaze on the ceiling. “Not in my watch, you ... f-u-c-k-i-n-g punk.”

“Are we spelling curse words now?” Simon asked.

“Jesus fu—“ Hugh stopped himself. “Wait ... f-u ... c ... k ...”

“Uh, someone can’t spell f-u-c-k-i-n-g,” Evander laughed out loud.

Georgie chimed in before Hugh threw his spoon at Evander. “At least when we're in Adrian's presence,” she said. “I don't want him to learn those words from you. Now that you are his aunts and uncles, you have to set a good example for him.”

Simon passed Adrian to Georgie again, and Kasumi stared at him, wondering if she was going to be able to set a good example for him and what things could she teach him to do.

Perhaps she could teach him to swim. Or to dance. Although Kasumi did not know how to dance, and the truth was that she did not think she would be able to explain why she knew how to swim. No one had ever taught her to do it; she just knew it. She wasn't quite sure how swimming worked on people who didn't have water-related powers. (Tamaya had once told her that babies could be thrown into the water and their instinct to swim would come out on their own, but Kasumi would never throw a baby as pretty as Adrian into the water.) (She would never throw a baby into the water in general though, even if the baby was ugly.)

Or maybe she could teach him to play with dolls. Several Christmases ago, the others bought her an old rag doll with their savings, which she named Aiko. Kasumi took her everywhere, pretended to share her food with her during dinner, and tucked her every night in a shoebox that she had found and now used as the doll's cradle. The others realized how much she liked her gift, so for her ninth birthday, they gave her a beautiful doll with blonde hair and a pink princess dress, named Isabella. Kasumi didn't realize how much she was playing with the new doll, until one day she was having a tea party with Hugh and Simon (because that's the kind of thing Georgie told them to do, so Kasumi wouldn’t feel alone), and Hugh asked her, very into in his role of a rich lady from the Victorian era, why Duchess Aiko hadn't attended that afternoon. Then, Kasumi remembered that she hadn't gotten her out of her bed that morning and she began to cry.

Simon immediately went over to hug her and asked Hugh to hand the doll to him, but Kasumi was so embarrassed, she didn't even want to look at her in the eyes. When Hugh tried to give her the doll, Kasumi screamed as if she had seen a rat and not her favorite toy, which made Tamaya go downstairs to see what was happening, probably thinking Hugh and Simon were bullying Kasumi into insanity or something.

Now that she thought about it, it was kind of funny to remember the face Tamaya made when she saw Kasumi screaming, clinging to her two friends with all the strength she had, and without them taking off the fake pearl necklaces and hats they had put on for the occasion. It had probably been very funny to her too because as soon as saw the scene, she called Georgie and ran away from there, with one hand over her mouth and making strange noises.

Georgie played dolls with her more often from then on. When Kasumi overcame her fear of running out of love to give her toys (and made it known to her friends as if she had learned how to drive or graduated college), Georgie bought her a third doll, which had bunny ears, a white apron, and had Mimi embroidered on her hand. Now that they had three dolls, Tamaya was able to join them during their games, but Tamaya always came up with very morbid ones, such as that the dolls were a family of poor girls who had to play the guitar to earn some money or that they were housewives of wealthy gentlemen who mistreated them, so they planned to poison them during a business dinner to keep their money. These games scandalized Georgie, but Kasumi did like them and when they started to stop playing with her, she would sit her three dolls in a circle and stare at them, fantasizing about the outcomes of those stories they had left incomplete.

Those were the kinds of things that made Kasumi think that she had a good childhood. And that wasn't something many child prodigies could say.

If Adrian turned out to be a prodigy, she wanted to be a part of those kinds of stories so when Adrian grew up and remembered how his first years were, he would be able to say that they had been good and that Kasumi had the honor of being part of them, in the same way Kasumi could say that Georgie (his mother) had done the same for her.

Simon had told her that the place Georgie and Adrian were moving to was not too far from the house, but Kasumi wasn't so sure.

Everything would be easier if they all stayed together.

Although she supposed that having her family separated was better than having no family.

Right?

***

Not all prodigies were lucky enough to have a home.

Kasumi, for a long time, had been one of those prodigies. Her parents abandoned her when she was a baby, and she didn't think orphanages could be considered homes. Mainly because "home" wasn't the brick structure with four walls and a roof that protected you from the heat in the summer or the freezing winds in the winter.

A home was made by the people you lived with.

And they had proved it to her.

Georgie had told her a little bit about the days she lived on the streets after escaping from her father's house and told her that while she was wandering around town, she had seen a few children (who clearly were all prodigies) looking for food in the garbage or fighting each other over a piece of blanket to cover themselves from the sun. That she, at the time, had criticized them for behaving like savages, but that now, she could only feel sorry for them because it was probably the only thing they knew and it was their way of surviving, wondering if she had ended up like that too.

Kasumi… all of them had been very fortunate to have found a home in each other.

That was why it hurt so much to close the door behind her and realize that the house felt completely empty for the first time in all her life.

The first hours being in the house alone, Kasumi tried to distract herself by embroidering. She took out a pink sweater that she had wanted to embroider daisies on for a while now and she sat in the living room. She thought about whether it would be a good idea to turn on the television, but the only thing she could watch were very tacky cartoons some cheap animation studio made about the Renegades, and she didn't have the strength to be angry at the horrible (and even offensive) way they were drawn, especially the girls, Simon, and herself, so she just tried to blank her mind and focus on the task.

Georgie had taught them to embroider and Kasumi was obsessing over it. She had already embroidered their names on all the pieces of clothing they allowed her until Hugh had to put an end to it because they simply couldn’t be giving away personal information to strange people on the streets (“Yes, Kasumi, having our names embroider on our clothes is giving personal information to strangers, I’m sorry.”). Simon also no longer let her do that whole name thing, but he did let her embroider a tiny skeleton with an arrow going through his heart on the edge of his jeans. Tamaya was the one who had more difficulty learning how to do it, but over time she kind of got the hang of it, and Georgie spent much of her pregnancy adding details to the simple onesies she bought for Adrian.

Kasumi didn’t want to brag, but she was the one who had learned to embroider the fastest. She remembered taking Evander’s old clothes to practice and even embroidered golden stars on his white pajama pants. She wasn't quite sure if he was still wearing them, but she thought they look really well, especially when she (unintentionally) compared it to the other’s work.

However, Kasumi couldn't smile right now.

She may have learned to embroider faster than them.

But she was growing up slower than them.

She was not talking about her physical appearance or things like that. Despite eating a very poor diet, Kasumi had managed to grow ... what she had to grow. She was not abnormally short and, when she got up, she did not get dizzy, like Simon (who spent a week having panic attacks every morning, thinking they were signs of early anemia). Yes, Tamaya and Georgie already looked like grown-up women, but it was because they were grown-up women. Besides that, Georgie had told her all girls were different and beautiful in their way; the important thing was that Kasumi was healthy and that she felt comfortable in her own skin. Now, Kasumi did not feel super comfortable in her own skin, but perhaps it was because she was a teenager, and as someone who had lived with teenagers before, she knew they could be deeply insecure about their body.

(Kasumi practically grew up listening to Simon crying about his body hair, Georgie complaining about how greasy her skin got when she was about to have her period, Tamaya ranting about his wings and nose, and Hugh saying that he felt he was too big and grotesque to be a real human being. She did not understand why they thought such things. She considered that if Simon grew a beard in the future it would look very good on him, Georgie had a beautiful smile, Tamaya's features reminded her of those of a goddess, and... fine, she wasn't quite sure what exactly Hugh was complaining about, but it didn’t feel right to tell him how to live his insecurities and tried to be as assuring with him as she was with the rest of her family when she heard them make those comments about themselves.)

No, what Kasumi was referring to was that they all seemed to be growing in other areas of their life.

And she did not.

Georgie was a mom now. A single mom, who had her own apartment, in a beautiful area, near a park where she would surely spend hours fooling around with her baby. Hugh and Simon were officially a couple, and they had moved in together in a seedy, filthy, smelly apartment, but they talked about it like it was their dream house or something. Lastly, even though Tamaya wasn't living with anyone in particular, she thought that moving into her own place was a big step and that it could be good for her.

And again, maybe it was because of her age, but… But Kasumi didn't see herself doing any of those things.

She couldn't imagine having kids. She perhaps could imagine herself holding someone's hand and looking at each other with the same adoration that Hugh and Simon looked at each other, but that person still did not have a face in her imagination, which according to her family, “was the most vivid imagination it had ever existed”. Much less did she see herself capable of taking her things and simply moving to another place, as if it hadn't taken her years to find a place (find people) that she could call home.

Kasumi pricked herself with the needle.

She knew they weren't abandoning her. They would continue to see each other very often, at the Headquarters or during the missions. Tamaya had assured them she would visit them constantly to make sure the house was not on fire, and the others had said similar things, hinting that they would be doing the same thing.

The backyard door opened. “Kasumi!”

But even if she knew it, even if she was aware that all those feelings of abandonment were completely irrational, her anxieties were more powerful.

“Hey, Kasumi.”

What if they found another Kasumi? What if they found someone who loved them the same way she loved them? What if their interests changed over the years? What if, after meeting new people and having new experiences, Kasumi seemed more and more replaceable over time?

“Kasumi ...”

What if Kasumi was left so far behind that she ended up getting buried by all their new memories, forgotten behind the door of an empty room, which was as dark as a starless night sky?

“Zoomie!”

She pricked herself with the needle again and realized that Evander had been talking to her.

She put her finger to her mouth and raised her eyebrows. Evander wasn’t wearing his shoes, but the edges of his pants covered in mud, hinting that he had been playing outside. He was wearing his cap. Apparently, Hugh hadn't stolen it.

Kasumi wondered where he had left it and how he had found it.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” he announced. “Or… do you wanna take a shower first?”

Kasumi shook her head; she had already showered earlier that day.

“Well—” she looked at the sweater that Kasumi was embroidering. “What are you doing?”

She took a look at the sweater; the daisies were pretty nice. However, when she looked out the window, she realized that it was already dark outside and that her eyes were getting too tired.

“I’m… I’m going to sleep,” she replied.

Evander nodded and she headed for the basement.

***

If she believed that being in the lonely living room had been a nightmare in which her most invasive thoughts had taken complete control of her, it was because she had no idea what kind of things awaited her in the basement.

The basement. That basement where they had all slept together for so many years, and that a few days ago had seemed too small for them, but now it looked huge.

Never in her life had she had a bed to herself. At the orphanage, she shared a bed with other girls, and when she arrived at Simon's house, the five of them took turns to sleep in the twin-sized bed. Later, when Simon's parents left the house, instead of going to sleep in one of the upstairs rooms like normal people, they brought the double bed to the basement and put them together to create a larger bed.

There was something about sharing a bed with your family. A new kind of intimacy that Kasumi never thought she would ever experience.

Because she never thought that she would ever have a family in the first place.

She had to admit that it could be awkward at times. In the summer, the basement got very humid, and Kasumi, who slept between Georgia and Tamaya, felt like she was suffocating, and during winter, it was an eternal battle for the blankets.

There were also times when Georgia and Tamaya would talk late into the night. Kasumi didn't participate in those conversations but she did pay a lot of attention to them, turning to see the one who was talking and then turning to see the other, as if her eyes were following the sound of their voices. Although they tried to keep their tone down, they couldn't contain their giggles. One time they were so loud that Simon told them to be quiet while calling them “scandalous chickens”. Tamaya went wild over that comment and only calmed down because Simon almost burst into tears as he begged her to forgive him and assured her that he wasn't trying to make fun of her.

And, a few years later, he arrived.

“Zoomie—”

This time he didn't have to call her twice for her to hear him. “I already got out of the shower.”

Suddenly, she could see Hugh and Tamaya sitting on the bed. She was lying on her stomach and he was leaning against a pile of pillows, loudly arguing about why putting ketchup on the pizza was a crime against humanity and that Hugh should see a psychiatrist for thinking "that fucking shit" tasted good. But when they listened to what Evander said, they suddenly interrupted their discussion, and said, “Thanks for telling us— ” “ —but literally no one asked, ” before starting to yell at each other again.

If she didn't feel like she was going to cry at any moment, she probably would have laughed a little. She always laughed at Hugh and Tamaya's jokes.

“I mean… in case you wanna take a shower now.”

Simon was there too. He was pulling his pajamas and a pair of socks (that used to be white but had turned pink after finishing in the wrong batch of clothes) out of the drawers, and said, looking disapprovingly at the others, “Well, I did ask him because I do want to take a shower.”

He and Kasumi had that in common: they like to shower every day, and if they didn’t, their anxiety kicked in.

“Or if… you know, you want to brush your teeth. I already brushed mine.”

Then Georgie walked over to them, gently took Evander by the cheeks, and said, “Let me see; blow” in the same tone she used to order him to show her the empty plate after making a dish that had lots of vegetables on it, or when she asked him to close his eyes each time they came across a particularly violent scene while they were strolling through town in their civilian clothes.

She never needed to ask her to do that. Kasumi didn’t lie about brushing her teeth, she ate all her vegetables and she did close her eyes when she saw people (not villains or heroes; people) fighting in the middle of the street without anyone having to remind her.

In a blink, they all disappeared.

But Kasumi was still there.

And Evander too.

“I WANT THIS ONE!” he squealed before getting into the larger bed. He took one of the pillows and began rubbing his head against it. “Finally ... a bed all to myself.”

At least one of them was happy about it.

***

When Kasumi came back from brushing her teeth, put on her pajamas, and braided her hair so it wouldn’t get all tangled during the night, Evander was staring at the ceiling, completely still. He did not greet Kasumi when she entered, nor did he say anything to her when she sat on the twin-sized bed.

The beds were still together, but Kasumi felt like they had already separated them.

Then, she remembered that they had left the blankets drying in the backyard. Terrible decision. They were going to freeze to death.

She sighed and fumbled for something to cover herself while she went outside to get them when Evander stood up on the bed and spread with all his might a heavy (and filthy) red blanket they weren’t able to fit inside the washing machine and was left there on the floor like it was nothing.

Kasumi felt the blanket as the warmest of hugs. It covered most of the twin-sized bed and half of the other.

“If you steal the blanket,” Evander said lying down again, “I'm going to put my cold feet on you.”

She lay down too.

She did see him capable of doing that.

Evander was capable of a lot of things.

***

When Evander arrived, one of the first things she did was ask Georgie where he was going to sleep.

Oh, because Kasumi knew they were going to keep him. They just had to.

Georgie told her that he would sleep with the rest of them, and that was completely fine to her. At least until problems started to appear.

To begin with, he didn't fit in the boy's bed; he and Simon would do it perfectly, but Hugh was too big and took up much of the mattress.

“You are a monstrosity of a human being,” Evander blurted out. “No offense.”

“I'd take it as a compliment,” Hugh assured.

In the double bed, they were going through a similar situation. The three of them fit, but barely, not to mention that Tamaya had to sleep in very specific a position so she wouldn’t hurt her wings. Georgie assured that she would not let anyone sleep on the floor.

So Evander ended up sleeping in the space between the two beds, one part of his body over one mattress and one part on the other.

Kasumi wondered if he had difficulties adjusting to this new lifestyle. Although he hardly spoke about what his life had been like before joining the Renegades (as he had named them), she had heard Georgie tell Tamaya about how much he kicked her during the night or that Hugh confessing to Simon that it saddened him to hear him cry for his mom during the night (“Don’t tell him I said that though.”)

Maybe it was that Evander was not used to sharing a bed with other people, and he was even less used to those people taking years to react when the two beds accidentally separated, making him fell and hit his head.

‘Cause that happened.

“Georgie… the kid fell.”

“Hey, you asshole, stop cuddling with your— friend and help him.”

“We’re preparing him for the blows life is going to throw at him.”

“Simon, darling, I'd expect that kind of comment from Hugh, but from you��”

“I think I’m bleeding…”

That was enough to make Kasumi react. She got off the bed (kicking Georgie and Tamaya in the process), helped him get up, and, after making sure he was not bleeding, dusted off his clothes and hair.

“Are you okay, Vandy?” she asked him.

Evander looked at her with teary eyes and told her he was fine. Hugh put the beds back together (after Tamaya threw a shoe at him to make him react) and Georgie cuddled with her (probably to prevent her from throwing more shoes), so he and Kasumi slept next to each other the rest of the night.

She did not quite understand what Georgie and Hugh were talking about in those conversations that she overheard them having with Tamaya and Simon. Evander didn't kick her and she didn't hear him cry.

The next night, a few hours before making their first public appearance as the Renegades, Kasumi was in the living room, playing with her dolls (or staring at them while imagining the scenarios) when Evander appeared.

“How old are you?” he asked her.

“Excuse me?”

“How old are you?” he repeated.

For some reason, Kasumi had a little trouble remembering how old she was. “I'm thirteen,” she finally answered.

Evander nodded and sat on the floor, between two of her dolls, without Kasumi inviting him. She didn't quite know how to feel about it.

“Georgie is nineteen,” she kept saying. “And Tamaya eighteen, and—”

“And Simon and Hugh are sixteen,” Evander finished. “Yes, I know. I've asked them.”

Kasumi looked down. Thanks for telling us, but literally no one asked.

“I’m nine years old—” and he showed her nine of his fingers.

She wanted to tell him she thought he was a lot younger, but… yes, no one had asked. So she kept quiet.

The next thing Evander asked was:

“Do you like to play with dolls?”

So Kasumi smiled, and answered him:

“I love playing with dolls.”

“I never play with dolls,” Evander told her wrinkling his nose. “It’s for… girls.”

“Georgie says that all games are for girls, boys, and anyone who falls in between those,” Kasumi quoted solemnly. “Hugh and Simon played dolls with me all the time.”

Now it was Evander who looked away. “I don't think Hugh and Simon want to play with me,” he muttered.

“Why?” she asked him.

He shrugged. “It seems to me that… older kids have other things they worry about. Also, they’ve been friends since before I arrived.”

Kasumi thought that the word "friends" was not the most appropriate word to describe their relationship. Or that was what she had heard Tamaya say that afternoon, and when she was thirteen, all her opinions were opinions that other people had before, like the one about “All games are for girls, boys, and anyone who falls between those” that Georgie told her.

Speaking of them…

“Tamaya and Georgie don't want to play with me anymore,” she confessed quietly.

“Were they friends before you arrived?”

Kasumi shook her head and played with the loose thread on her skirt. “No, but I guess… people grow up. People grow up and that's it.”

Who knows if Evander understood what she meant by that. Kasumi herself didn't know what she had meant.

But Evander asked another question again.

“Can I play dolls with you, Kasumi?”

And Kasumi smiled.

Again.

“I'd loved if you played dolls with me, Evander.”

“You can call me Vandy.”

Kasumi smiled even more. “Seriously?”

“Yes, I really liked it when you called me that yesterday,” he replied. “Actually, I hadn't spoken to you all day because I was looking for an equally cool nickname to give you.”

She supposed that if he was already talking to her, that meant he had found a nickname. “And which one is it?”

Evander smiled at him too. “Zoomie.”

Zoomie was the best nickname anyone could have come up with.

It turned out that Evander was even better at imitating Victorian lady voices than Hugh and Simon. He was also not scandalized by the dramatic stories she invented, and even came up with the plot’s darkest moments. They had to be dragged to bed, and Georgie made the serious mistake of letting them sleep together again; they talked for hours until Simon asked them to be quiet with a not very family-friendly vocabulary. He even used the F-word (the same one that Hugh apparently couldn't spell). It was kind of shocking, but they let it go because it was Simon, and Simon would have done the same if it had been the other way around.

The third night they slept together, Tamaya snapped and threw her other shoe at them. In her opinion, the situation had become insufferable and others supported her. Georgie sat them at the dining room the next morning and told them that although she was very glad they were friends, she will have to go back to sleep between them because they were messing with everyone’s sleep schedule.

It was the first time that someone addressed them as "friends." Kasumi was so happy about it that she didn’t even complain about Georgie’s decision.

She had never had a friend just for herself.

But even after this new adjustment, Evander kept being… a mess. He kept talking before going to sleep, just that this time, his partner in crime was Hugh. At first, Kasumi thought Hugh was going to ignore him, but he genuinely seemed interested in the comic books Evander talked him about and even began reading some of them. Tamaya threw at them all the shoes they had, but not even with that she managed to shut them up, and they had to took away all the objects that could be thrown that were on her side of the bed so that she did not end up seriously hurting someone. Simon once remarked that he almost fell out of bed because Evander just moved too much, and when they hinted that he was just angry that Hugh no longer cuddled with him while he slept because he was too busy talking with Evander, he ignored them the rest of the day. Georgie kept waking up feeling her body all soar (“Evander kicks like a soccer player, I swear”), but she still was the first to comfort him when nightmares haunted him in the middle of the night.

She had never seen him like that though.

Not until now.

Kasumi felt the bed so empty that she couldn't fall asleep. Her eyes were closed, but her mind was racing, thinking about all the scenarios in which all had gone wrong and now her family (Adrian included) was being taken to the cathedral to be publicly executed by Ace Anarchy himself. She felt the other bed's mattress and the blanket moving at the same time that Evander did, while he babbled things that Kasumi couldn't understand.

At least until she felt a warm pair of her hands grip her wrists so tightly that it made her open her eyes violently and scream.

Her first instinct was to think those hands belonged to some anarchist, ready to pull her out of bed and drag her into the depths of limbo, but it didn't take her long to recognize them.

They were the same hands that played dolls with her when she was younger, that gently pulled her ponytail when she zoned out in the middle of interviews and wanted to make her react, and they were the same hands that took hers and rubbed them during cold days because he knew Kasumi didn’t like wearing gloves but her hands were still so cold that he feared they would get all frozen and fall.

Evander was so close to her, that even in the dark, she could see that he was frowning and clenching his jaw while moving his legs as if he was trying to get away from something.

“Stop… stop, stop… stop,” he pleaded with someone who wasn't really there.

But Kasumi was there.

“Evander, Evander, it's me,” she whispered. “Evander, it's me.”

Evander kept kicking, kept running, and kept pleading.

“Stop, stop…”

“It's me, Evander,” she insisted. “Evander…”

Then, she remembered what the keyword was.

“It's me, Vandy—” she put a hand in his hair “—It's me…”

Evander progressively released her wrists, and as he did so, he opened his eyes, filled with tears and fear.

Kasumi felt her lips tremble, and she…

Understood. She understood those conversations she heard them had.

But what she did not understand was how they did not break with him to see him like that. All trembling, teary, and…

Small.

Really, really small.

She really didn’t.

However, a part of her must have understood because although Kasumi felt a bump in her throat, she did not shed a single tear. Not even when he, with a voice more broken than she had ever heard came out of him, whispered:

“Zoomie?”

She didn't stop stroking his hair. “I heard you talking in your sleep.”

“Zoomie—“ he put a hand on her cheek “—Zoomie, I had a bad dream.”

She was not surprised.

Kasumi put her free hand over his. “Do you wanna tell me about it?”

She had always been told that sharing dreams, especially unpleasant ones, could help. Kasumi was very lucky that most of her dreams were pretty ones, like days at the beach, swimming with dolphins, or romantic boat rides because she dreamed pretty often. Simon also dreamed a lot, but they were more nightmares than anything else, like when he dreamed that a couple dressed in black came to the house and wanted to take him out of the city, speaking in a language he did not understand and calling him “Simón” instead of “Simon”. The others did not dream as often as they did, but Georgie once dreamed that she crashed into a plane while flying and the plane exploded with a lot of people inside, Tamaya that some goats chewed the feathers of his wings, and there was a time when Hugh claimed to have constant nightmares about everyone in the house dying of a mysterious illness and school recitals (“... and I've never even been to a school recital!”)

She knew all that because many times they had come to her and to tell her, “Kasumi, I just had a horrible nightmare and I hope you can give me tell what it means.”

Maybe if Evander told her what his dream was about, she could help him.

However, Evander told her that he didn't feel like talking about it.

Kasumi got it. After all, it was the first time she woke him up from a nightmare.

Nightmares could be very private.

“It's okay ... will you ... will you let me rub your back, then?” she asked him.

He nodded very slowly and Kasumi moved closer to him, to the point that they both were practically over the space between the two beds. She had half of her body on one mattress, and him in the other.

Kasumi had war flashbacks, and Evander too.

“This are the blows Simon told me life will throw at me,” he stammered with a sniffle.

Kasumi gave a soft laugh and started rubbing his back. She discreetly smelt his hair. “Your hair is really soft after you wash it.”

“Thank you.”

“You should probably do it more often...”

Evander didn't respond.

He just burst into tears.

“You aren't gonna leave me, are you?” he asked her.

“What?”

Evander tried to wipe the tears away with the blanket, but that only made him cry even louder and his sentences get more incomprehensible.

“Like— you ...” he sobbed, “you aren't gonna leave me like the rest of them, right?”

Immediately, Kasumi knew who he was referring to and her heart shrunk as her brain was able to process what he had said.

“They didn’t leave us,” she replied, brushing his hair behind his ears, “they just—”

“Grew up.”

Kasumi got chills. His tone had felt so cold and distant for a moment. “Yeah. That’s kind of how life is.”

Instinctively, the two of them pressed their foreheads against each other, and Kasumi noticed that Evander was sweating, but she was not disgusted by any means.

She was just deeply concerned about him.

“You're getting older,” Evander whispered. “You're probably not gonna like me in a couple of years.”

She already had the answer for that on the tip of her tongue. But she remembered all her insecurities and she stopped being so sure if she would be telling the truth if she were to answer him at that moment.

And she would never lie to him on purpose.

So although Kasumi did not like to imagine how her life would be in the future, she tried to do so, only to confirm her idea.

She imagined herself as an adult. A little more confident, powerful, and, God willing, a little taller. She envisioned a future in which none of her family members would forget her and she could become part of Adrian's childhood memories. She would help Georgie to take care of him so that she could spend time by herself because only God knew how much that woman needed time for herself. Tamaya would introduce them to the young man she had talked about so much lately, the doctor who helped her heal when her wing got hurt and he would be as nice as she had promised. She was even able to see herself being a bridesmaid at Hugh and Simon's wedding when they finally made her relationship public and reminded the whole world that it was still possible to love in a city that seemed so full of hate.

She could imagine her future, but she couldn't imagine herself not being friends with Evander.

Kasumi would never be able to take her things and move to another place where he was not part of it. Because Kasumi would never voluntarily leave her home.

And Evander had been her home since the first moment he walked through that door.

“Don’t be silly. I'll always like you,” she assured him, stroking his hair again. “And most importantly... I will always be here for you.” And unintentionally, she added, “Even when you grow up, and you do not like me anymore.”

Evander pulled away slightly from her and stared into her eyes for a long time. She thought maybe that's how she looked when she was imagining something too.

Only... with a less puffy face.

“I'm always gonna be there for you too,” he replied. “And I’ll always like you, and I’ll always love you. You know that, right?”

Kasumi didn't know how to answer.

She… she didn’t.

Like— she knew he liked her, but she didn’t think he loved her.

It was a nice thing to hear.

“No,” she mumbled, brushing off the tears that rolled down his face with her thumb. “But ... thank you.”

Then, Evander was able to regain his composure and rubbed his hands all over his face tightly as if he was trying to wipe the tears out of his eyes. Kasumi took that opportunity to change her position and allow him to put his head on her chest.

“When I'm rich and famous, I'll buy you a house,” Evander told her, trying to hide the nasal voice that had remained after crying as hard as he just did. “It will be near my mansion.”

Kasumi pinched his cheek. “So you get a mansion and I get a house. How nice of you.”

“I know” he replied with a proud smile.

The audacity.

But that was not the time.

She took the tip of the blanket. It almost fell from the bed during the attack.

“Come on ...” she whispered, covering him up to his chin. “Go back to sleep.”

“Are you going back to sleep too?”

“Yes,” she lied to him.

But as Evander immediately knew he was lying, it didn't count as a lie at all.

“Liar,” he laughed. “Don’t be silly. I wanna stay up with you too.”

Kasumi didn't find a reason why she wouldn't let him.

After all, there was no one to throw shoes at them or to shut them up unkindly anymore. There wasn't even someone who would leave them on the floor if they fell out of bed or who would come between them anymore because they all thought putting them together was going to cause the apocalypse or something.

It hurt a little bit to think about that, but at the same time, it hurt less than before.

“Did I tell you I found my cap?”

Kasumi remembered the entire cap fight. “No, but I noticed.”

“Do you wanna know where it was, Zoomie?”

“Where was your cap, Vandy?”

Evander not only told her about how he had found his cap; he also talked to her about her whole day in detail and made jokes that made Kasumi laugh out loud and her eyes itch.

She didn’t know if it was because she had been holding back her tears for so long, or if it was because it was during the night when one could see the stars, and Evander was pure light in those very moments.

The next morning, when they saw the others again at the Headquarters, Kasumi no longer felt abandoned, or as she was going to fuse with the darkness of that empty room where they supposedly left her because there was no room to begin with. But even if that did happen, and she ended up becoming one with the night sky, she knew that she was going to at least have one star to shine on her and assure her that neither of them would ever truly be alone if they had each other.

#renegadesnet #renegades #archenemies #supernova #renegades trilogy #kasumi hasegawa #evander wade #obsi's writs

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juvinile · 4 years ago

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* LOGAN LERMAN , CIS MALE + HE / HIM | you know SEAN O’MALLEY , right ? they’re TWENTY - SIX , and they’ve lived in irving for , like , THEIR WHOLE LIFE ? well , their spotify wrapped says they listened to FREAKING OUT ON THE INTERSTATE BY BRISTON MARONEY like , a million times this year , which makes sense ‘cause they’ve got that whole CHIPPED BLACK NAILS ON CALLOUSED HANDS , STUMBLING BLIND THROUGH DAEDALUS’S LABYRINTH , SKATEBOARDING ALONE ON HOT PAVEMENT thing going on . i just checked and their birthday is AUGUST 4TH , so they’re a LEO , which is unsurprising , all things considered .

TW INCLUDE divorce tw , alcoholism tw , bullying tw

hi hi hi it’s alli previously known for less strange things than playing my own muse’s sibling but i hope u can overlook my faults and my hubris bc i love sean and he’s . something . ok he he he

GENERAL :

full name: sean thomas o’malley

age / dob: twenty - six / august 4th

gender: cis male

pronouns: he / him

occupation: mechanic

zodiac: leo

orientation: bisexual & biromantic

faceclaim: logan lerman

pinterest: HERE !

AESTHETIC :

chipped black nails on calloused hands, stumbling blind through daedalus’s labyrinth, skateboarding alone on hot pavement, a broken stopwatch, the burn of whiskey and the ash of discarded cigarettes, clipped wings, no one taught icarus how to fly, earbuds that always manage to tangle themselves in your pocket, liminal space

CHARACTER ANALYSIS :

kyle scheible ( ladybird ) , alyssa ( end of the fucking world ) , klaus hargreeves ( the umbrella academy ) , steven hyde ( that 70s show ) , tony stonem ( skins ) , jonathan byers ( stranger things ) , frankie ( beach rats ) , alexander vass ( if we were villains ) , angie ( the oa ) , lip gallagher ( shameless ) , literally every deadbeat stoner skateboarder side character in any tv show ever he literally modeled his personality after them

BRIEF BIOGRAPHY :

sean thomas o’malley was the eldest born to patrick o’malley, an on again off again construction worker, and aoife o’malley nee murphy, a checkout clerk at the local supermarket.

he was a wild thing from the beginning -- always tugging on his mother’s hair and biting at his father’s hands, so much trouble that his parents, in their happier years, affectionately coined him “scrap”.

his sisters came a few years later, first sloane and then fia, the three o’malley alley cats. their childhood was a decent one, poor as dirt and left to rot in lilac ridge, but a close knit bunch all the same.

sean was always grinning, even that time he chipped his tooth, lopsided and warm, and his parents usually weren’t drunk until long after the children had gone to bed.

though sean himself couldn’t see it for a while, his parents had a sort of reputation around town. the o’malleys were too poor, had too many kids to take care of, spent too little time at home, were too friendly with the local bartenders. and though they didn’t know exactly what they were echoing, the kids at school had a way of letting sean know exactly what their parents thought of his. he found that sticking up for himself meant sticking up for his sisters, and he learned he didn’t particularly hate getting into fights.

sean isn’t really sure himself when things started to change, perhaps when his mom stopped work at the supermarket, or when his father broke his ankle and had to take off from the construction site, but the facade of happiness at home never lasted.

they grew apart, all of the o’malley’s, aoife and patrick ending their marriage in a divorce, sean and the girls spending more and more time away from home. to escape, it seemed, from the ghost of a family.

he fell into his group of friends like he always falls into things, seemingly at random, and bless their hearts because he’s never been the easiest person to get along with. he’s combative, and indulgent, and maybe those parents were right when they used to warn people to stay away from the o’malley boy, but he’s got his heart in the right place. if only he knew how to properly express it, maybe he wouldn’t be so on edge all the time, so starkly defensive of what little he has.

he still takes care of his dad, who moved into an apartment in delphinus heights. he makes sure he gets out of bed in the morning, even if it means being late to his own crappy job. he makes sure he’s eating enough. he tries to borrow the one family car as little as he can, knows his dad needs it more. he tries to shield his sisters from having to know the extent of a deadbeat their dad is, wants better for all of them but knows he isn’t going to be the one to give better to them.

sean cares for them all deeply, his family and the few friends he has, but he’s never been great at expressing his emotions, not with them and certainly not with anyone else. he does what he can, working whatever job he manages to secure and sticking around irving ( currently he’s taken to fixing cars but .. how long can sean really be good for fixing anything .. ) , but there’s an undeniable pull he feels in his gut, whispering that it doesn’t have to be this way. that there’s more, somewhere, anywhere else. he’s never had a problem listening to his gut before.

POSSIBLE CONNECTIONS :

an ex, probably someone who ended up leaving and things were maybe never even that serious to begin with ?? everyone always knew sean would never make it out of irving and they just wanted really different things. maybe they’ve stayed in contact or maybe not, maybe it ended badly or maybe they just both knew it was coming and sean isn’t exactly the type to care enough to try to hold on.

skate crew, i think a few other muses skate or possibly even just go to the skate park to watch others skate ?? little social gathering thing going on. picture parties at 3am in the in ground pools, drunk half pipe usage, sliding down ramps on mattresses, chaos.

his childhood friend, maybe they stuck up for him when he was a kid getting bullied and has just been there for him through everything. his parents’ divorce, everyone leaving, his many failed attempts to hold a job. maybe they grew apart and now its awkward when sean skates by like hi :P

antagonistic, no matter how hard they try not to, they’ve always butted heads. sean’s so confrontational and he can’t keep his head on his shoulders. he’s always been an easy target, but he’s also always been so jealous. isolated himself and pities himself and it’s infuriating. they’re polar opposites, but they can be at each other’s necks one minute and grabbing a pint in the next. it’s complicated.

someone innocent, maybe someone who has come to him because they want to loosen up ?? they want to put themselves out there more. they’ve always been the voice of reason and they want to cut loose, they went away and now they’re back and they don’t know what to do, etc. just think it would be fun for sean to be the father of bad influence lmao

#irvingintro #divorce tw #alcoholism tw #bullying tw #this is kind of short and sloanes has #more family history i think bt #im going w it

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ickle-ronniekins · 4 years ago

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- u n d e r n e a t h t h e w i l l o w t r e e -

Age 10 The summer breeze picks up its speed; eagerly, she jumps to her feet and brushes the grass off of her shorts before running forward. She presses the bottoms of her sneakers into the trunk of the willow tree, not listening to the calls from her sister. “You’re silly!” her sister calls, sticking out her tongue. “You’re going to hurt yourself!”

Of course she doesn’t listen, because when has she ever let people dictate what she should and shouldn’t do? Never. She’s halfway up the tree and she can feel the roughness of the thick branches digging deeper and deeper into her skin, but she wants to keep going. She’s got to get to the top.

Perhaps she should have listened to her older sister though, because suddenly the wind whips her hair into her eyes and she loses her grip, tumbling through the leaves and branches and crashing dramatically on the thick bed of grass beneath her. She wants to scream, because the truth is that the pain of the fall is almost unbearable, and her sister is already screaming in horror at the sight and immediately runs inside for their parents.

And then someone appears next to her: the boy from across the street, the one who’s always fiddling with some type of baseball playing cards on the bus with his friends. The one with the turquoise eyes and the blonde hair. The one who likes to cook with his mom. The one who always waves to her when they’re both playing in their driveways. He peers down at her with concern. “Are you okay?”

She huffs in annoyance. “Does it look like I’m okay?”

In response, he giggles. “Glad to see that the fall hasn’t affected your ability to be funny!”

And alright, she can’t help it: she laughs. And he does too. The dimple on the right side of his face is quite noticeable, she realizes.

“How come you didn’t listen to your sister?” he asks, kneeling down next to her. “She was right, you know.”

“She may have been right, but I was gonna climb that tree whether she liked it or not,” the girl announces, folding her arms across her chest. Then she winces in pain, cradling her ankle that’s already beginning to swell. She’s forcing herself to not cry, not cry, not cry. She’s about to get up when the boy places a hand on her shoulder. “Don’t try and move. Trust me. Your sister went to go get your mom and dad. I’ll stay here with you until they come, is that okay?”

She nods slowly. Then he sits down next to her and leans back against the tree. To her surprise, the tears fall down her cheeks, but the boy doesn’t say anything. Instead he smiles at her and says, “I would’ve climbed that tree, too.”

And to think: this entire time, he’s been right across the street. Why haven’t they been friends this entire time?

Age 15 “Don’t you see!” she squeals in horror, staring at something in the mirror he can’t quite see.

He’s standing behind her with an expression filled with confusion, his hands in his pockets. The bus will be soon and we haven’t had breakfast, he wants to say, but he knows if he rushes her, she’ll lash out. So instead, he impatiently says, “Um... no?” except, it kind of comes out as a question.

The girl throws her hands up in annoyance and violently rubs a brush along her jawline, careful to cover whatever it she sees that the boy cannot. “I’m going to look like such a fool! The first day of high school, and I can hardly even cover up the disaster that is my face. Why don’t they just lock me in a dungeon and be done with it! Clearly I’m ugly enough to be kept in one, far away from society!”

The boy, who’s now speedily following his friend down the steps of her house as she makes her way begrudgingly toward her refrigerator, which she opens and stares into without saying another word.

“You’re too pretty to be locked in a dungeon,” he says suddenly, catching her by surprise. They lock eyes and for a moment, things between them become still -- weirdly still. Then he clears his throat and scoots past her to grab the milk for his cereal. “Come on, it’ll be fine. You’ve got me, haven’t you?”

“You’re supposed to say that, you’re my best friend,” the girl replies, stealing the piece of toast from the toaster oven that is most definitely meant for her sister. Then she turns back to her friend and lowers her voice a bit. Her eyelashes flutter as she asks, “Do you really mean it? That I’m too pretty for a dungeon?”

The boy stops for a moment, his mouth full of Cheerios, and he wonders if she’s able to hear the steady, drumbeat pounding of his heart. He swallows and speedily stuffs another spoonful of cereal into his mouth. “Nah,” he replies jokingly, “Actually, you fit the description of ‘dungeon creature’ quite perfectly, actually.”

He supposes he deserves the giant shove from her that nearly knocks him off his stool, but the two of them laugh anyway. He stops for a moment to watch her as she turns the piece of toast over and over in her hands, as if she’s examining it for any minor flaw. He realizes now that she was probably peering into the mirror, looking for flaws of her own. He wants to tell her that she won’t find any, no matter how hard she tries to look. But maybe now isn’t the right time.

“It’ll be alright,” he says finally, grabbing her attention. She doesn’t want to start high school, and he knows it. Elementary school was so easy, wasn’t it? High school has heartbreak waiting to happen. And so he tries to be as reassuring as he can. “And if it isn’t, and the world does lock you away in a dungeon, I promise to join you down there.”

Now, the idea of being locked away in a dungeon sounds better than high school ever has.

Age 18 She’s not sure when she started crying. Maybe it was when things had started to feel a bit off a few weeks ago, and she tried a bit too hard to get him to tell her what was wrong. Maybe it was when he started canceling dates, telling her he’d reschedule, but never did. Maybe it was when she found him with her, tucked away in a corner of a restaurant, when he’d told her that he had to work that night. But either way, she’d been crying forever over him, this stupid boy from school who lead her on and lied, and never, ever comforted her when she cried.

She finally opens her eyes for a moment to look at the world around her, hoping it won’t look as dismal and awful as she feels. But the purples of her walls are duller than usual, her bed unkempt and messy, and she can hear the rain and the wind outside whip furiously through the trees. It’s mimicking her, the weather. It’s a carbon copy of how she feels inside. And yet, through her blurry vision, the sight through her windowpane is as clear as day: the boy from across the street, jumping through puddles and pulling his hood tight over his head, and within seconds, he’s sitting himself down next to her on her bed, tentatively placing a gentle hand to her shoulder.

The two of them sit in silence; it’s been eight years since they first met, and they’ve become strangely comfortable being together in complete silence. He lets her cry. He lets her throw things at her already broken closet door. He lets her start to yell and relay the whole damn story through bouts of anger, before she starts crying again. And he lets her fall into his shoulder and cry some more, her tears staining the collar of his button down shirt.

The clouds have turned dark and the rain has subsided, and her parents are calling for the two of them that dinner is ready. He’s absolutely starving, but she doesn’t feel like eating, she says. And so he stays put on her bed, massaging gentle circles into her back and speaking in soothing tones so she won’t be able to hear the grumble of his stomach.

“He wasn’t the one, you know.” he tells her, and she finally peers up at him with tears in her eyes and a small grin painted onto her face.

She nods slowly, and her lip wobbles as she opens her mouth to speak. “I know,” she squeaks, and he can hear the future cries that have yet to escape her. “I just wanted him to love me. I just want to be loved.”

“You are,” he replies, “and you will be.”

She snorts a little, and he’s trying hard to contain his laughter. He’s always found her snorts wildly hilarious. And then an involuntary, hoarse cry escapes her once more. “When?”

She peers down at her shoes, and she doesn’t know what exactly what he’s thinking, but his eyes are speaking the words he wouldn’t dare too: not here, not now. It isn’t right. And so instead, he says,

“He’s on his way, and he’s getting here as fast as he can, alright? I promise.”

Except, he’s already here, isn’t he? At least, he hopes he is. The truth is that he realized it a long time ago, and he’s been holding it close to his heart, along with her and every single small thing about her. The way her hair falls over her shoulders, the way she scrunches her nose at the sight of fish, the nervousness in her eyes when change is on its way.

It’s up to her to realize it now.

“You’re always helping me,” she whispers, not quite certain of why he’s always there in her rearview mirror, with all the drama she brings.

He grins. “Yeah, and don’t you forget it.”

She snorts again and throws a pillow at his head, and he begins to see shades of his old friend again, his friend before the heartbreak.

One day. One day he’ll speak the words he’s just swallowed, and one day, she’ll realize it, too.

Age 26 It’s funny, the way things can unfold.

Through injuries after falling out of trees.

Through painful days of high school, when kids can be so cruel.

Through failed tests, awful jobs, and a whole bunch of firsts: a first school dance, a first kiss, a first driving lesson. A first heartbreak, a first chance encounter, a first realization.

There were boys who lied and played with her heart, and there were boys who cradled it as if it were the most precious jewel in the entire world.

It’s funny, how things should have been like this years ago.

But perhaps they needed to go through all of these things to find one another, right?

These things that were theirs: like endless ice cream sundaes after being hurt by groups of friends who were manipulative and catty, like Friday nights in with tons of movies to help ease the pain of a broken bone from a rough game of football, like countless mornings watching the sunrise, just because they could.

Like that time they tried to bake a cake from scratch and they nearly added salt instead of sugar. Or the time that they (he) backed his dad’s car into the mailbox and needed to quickly come up with a story as to what had happened. Or all those times he swallowed his feelings for her, just to be a good friend.

She wished he hadn’t done that, she told him one day, in the spot she figured it all out. Underneath the willow tree.

But he’s glad he waited, he told her. He needed her to realize it on her own, just like he did.

He’s cradled her heart in his his hands for years. Because it’s precious, even more so than a jewel. He never did quite understand why people had treated it with anything but the utmost love and care. But it doesn’t matter anymore. Not when he’s promising to cradle it for the rest of his life.

She thinks she’s yelled out ‘Yes’ before he’s even finished, but the truth is, she said yes a long time ago. She said yes when realization struck. She said yes to him years ago when she let him sit down next to her in the grass, waiting for her parents that time when she broke her ankle, underneath this same tree.

She’s swimming in his turquoise eyes, and he’s getting lost in her violet ones, just like he always has. And after moments of laughter and tears and tight embraces, she looks above her, into the branches of the trees, and teases him. “Race you to the top.”

Him, her fiance, her forever. He grins at her. “You may end up with a broken ankle.”

“Maybe,” she replies, gripping the lowest branch and digging her shoes into the trunk, and suddenly, she feels ten again. “but I think it’s worth it.” And they both think back to that day, the one when they first met.

And to think: it’s been him, the entire time, all these years. The boy from across the street.

#im sad #its fine #writing #prose #my writing #fiction #fiction writing #pls do not steal ok this is very very very close to my heart #prose writing #write #literature #fiction literature #short story fiction #short story

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keepyourpantsongohan · 4 years ago

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Ayesha Liveblogs Death Note

I’m watching this show specifically because of that text post that said, “Watch how quickly this one guy decides to be the worst person ever” and he has killed two people in the first ten minutes

Though 2 be fair he’s killing people to save people so it’s a trolley problem kind of thing for now

“In fact I’ve been waiting for you... Ryuk” ok weird flex Light but u do u

“You’re the first one to use to this extent in five days” WAIT DID HE MURDER ALL THOSE PEOPLE IN FIVE DAYS I THOUGHT HE WAS JUST LOOKING AT A LIST OH MY GOD??

“So there isn’t a price to using Death Note?” said Light, as if killing people is just a normal thing that we all do

Fhkjfhfkjb Ryuk really went ‘u used the book so we’re friends now’

I was wondering why the book was in English, and I guess that makes sense British and American imperialism really Did That

“I can write down the names of criminals, and slowly reduce the number of evil people” uhhhh doesn’t u being a Book Murderer also make you a criminal Light

“Human lives shouldn’t be taken so lightly” bah dum tss

Also I guess that revelation lasted about thirty seconds for you huh

Update from 15 seconds later: Even less than that

“I would create a world of earnest, kind humans” really because I don’t think places that allow the death penalty are generally nicer societies

It’s interesting that they use English in the classes and the notebook but the conversation at Interpol takes place in Japanese (despite the implied internationality and Ryuk’s aforementioned claim about English being most common)

Huh I won’t lie I do think it’s confusing that the main characters are L and Light, which also starts with L

“I am justice” I mean if anything this show just proves that no one should be allowed to use the death penalty on apprehended suspects in criminal justice cases ever

OH SHIT PLOT TWIST HIS DAD’S A COP (IT WAS IN THE TEXT POST I THINK BUT I FORGOT)

Wow this show is full of mind games already I guess I can see why like, crime show fans would dig it

“But I’m going to say this as your roommate” OH MY GOD THEY WERE ROOMMATES KJHRGKJHKJHG

Interesting that someone is following Light specifically already

I mean not to poke too many holes in your plan Light but wouldn’t it clash with your plan to become God if you die at like 35 or smth

“You’re already much more of a shinigami than they are” Ryuk said my friends are BORING I want to hang out with this MURDER TEEN

“I may not look it, but I’m pretty popular” Light is exactly the kind of guy who ends up in a true crime special where a bunch of people say he seemed like a nice, charismatic young man

Man this poor girl that Light brought on this date is going to be straight traumatized after this

I mean isn’t it MORE suspicious if someone dies around someone with direct ties to the police even if it’s not a heart attack

“You were indeed a brilliant FBI agent once, but now you’re my fiancée” kjhfkjhg WHAT FBI AGENTS CAN’T BE MARRIED

“Once we have a family, you’ll be so busy that you’ll forget that you were an agent” I’m not a fan of Raye Penber

What’s the point in killing Raye at all???? He told you he was part of a special investigation so clearly he’s not that suspicious of you

Light sure is bold to announce his Killing People Experiments in the middle of a busy sidewalk

Incredible that consistently no one notices Light’s increasingly threatening declarations????

Fjkfkfhk these five cops finding out their Hail Mary is this strange little goblin man,,,, wow

This woman has really pushed Light to the brink just by giving a fake name, I admire her tenacity

Cops wearing fake IDs really did not age well oh boy

SERIOUSLY HOW DOES NO ONE EVER HEAR LIGHT SAYING SUSPICIOUS THINGS IN PUBLIC THOROUGHFARES HE LITERALLY JUST SAID “I AM KIRA” AS A DETECTIVE WALKED BY, WHILE HE WAS TALKING TO SOMEONE HE KILLED IMMEDIATELY AFTER

Wow it really took only eight episodes for L to track Light as close as one of two families

“You have a wife and daughter, right?” “I know!” I mean..... not 2 be that guy but... cops

“To me, apples are like... Well, like cigarettes and liquor to humans” Vcvhcjhj every once in a while Ryuk says something that really tickles me

I know the word sociopath is kind of outdated but man does Light have actual interests outside of school or does he just do stuff to fill the void of his lack of interests (outside of murder)

JKHGKJHGKJHKJHG I cannot believe that this has turned into a fake classmate situation first of all 1) are you going to become friends and 2) How old are you Ryuzaki/L?

“Where is that rich kid from? And he’s even at the top of his class? What a jerk” honestly a mood

I DESPERATELY want Light’s mother or sister to overhear his evil cackling will someone finally eavesdrop on this god complex

“If I sit normally, my reasoning skills drop by 40%” weird flex but same

Sidenote: I can’t believe how many episodes of this show I already have watched

Ngl I was VERY shook that Mr. Yagami had a heart attack. Also does Light care if his family lives or dies or is he kind of neutral on the subject?

“If Kira is an ordinary person who gained this power, then he is a very unlucky person” Dad and L said ‘if u ARE Kira could you please stop murdering thank you <3′

Light really underestimated how much cops hate anyone who has killed a cop oops

OH SO IT’S NOT LIGHT I WAS WONDERING WHY HE HAD NOT MADE AN APPEARANCE THIS WHOLE EPISODE U MEAN THERE ARE TWO GUYS WITH THIS EXACT SAME IDEOLOGY AND PLAN? INCREDIBLE

Update from ten seconds later: Two people, I guess

Well this explains the girl in the short dress which serves as the Netflix thumbnail of this show I was wondering when she would show up

Also she sounds like she’s very young? Clearly Shinigami don’t have a minimum age of informed consent when it comes to their Murder Eyes Contract

Hahah I bet Light didn’t imagine that his petty and fucked up apple joke would bite him so quickly in the ass

Dhkjdhdkjhd Misa is so bold dropping her Death God deets in a video for anyone to see

“The way to kill a Shinigami, is to make them fall in love with a human” does this mean that Ryuk is going to fall in love with Light or Misa? Both would make me uncomfortable

Oh wild guess Misa became a Death Note Wielder through the Power of Unreciprocated Voyeuristic Love

“Yeah, I have a girlfriend now,” said Light, after a girl contacted him through a series of anonymous video tapes implicitly vowing to be his disciple

“No one could tell who he’s attached to if I’m with this many people” [20 seconds pass] “Found him!” HAHAHA the funniest part of this show is consistently watch Light going “got ‘em” before it immediately is revealed that he doesn’t got ‘em

Why is Light so incredibly searchable??? I think the only way people people could find my height online is if I happened to answer it for one of those Facebook note memes in 2007 lmaoooo

“There are many places that will go and sell your personal records” ah, data breaches; a problem that has not gotten any better in the last 15 years since this anime came out

HKJHFHKJFHF Light immediately jumping into fake-dating his weird disciple in front of his mom... what is this show

“Please make me your girlfriend” OH MY GOOOOOD

This is one of the weirdest romantic dynamics I’ve seen in recent memory but you know what? Whatever, at least it’s not Anxiety and Murder

“Does that mean I’ll have to deal with her until she dies?” Light is truly exuding some Ladybird Book of Dating Energy rn:

The fact that to kill L all Light had to do was get an obsessive girlfriend... astounding

Beautiful that it took Misa less than a week of knowing Light to ruin his whole 15 episode game plan and also life

“I think I may be Kira” Well this show keeps taking one escalation after another this is exhausting why can’t Light just be a normal person who found it, tried it out of interest in the occult, discovered he’d committed a horrible atrocity and then went to therapy for the rest of his life only to confess to Magical Murder on his deathbed while his family goes, ‘Wow, Grandpa’s crazy’

Does L not think that keeping three different people imprisoned for days on end will lead to some psychological repercussions for him

FOR WEEKS ON END????? OH MY GOD???? The fuck L, I know two of these people are murderers but there are some minimum conditions of correctional facilities and this seems a little Stanford PE

THE DRAMA OF THIS EPISODE I KNEW IT WAS GONNA BE A BLANK BUT HOW FUCKED UP TO PUT EVERYONE THROUGH THIS L I THINK YOU NEED THERAPY!!!!!!! I MEAN LIGHT AND MISA ARE MURDERERS BUT FORCING A MAN TO HOLD HIS SON AT GUNPOINT AFTER IMPRISONING THEM FOR OVER A MONTH IS REALLY A REFLECTION OF A COMPLETE LACK OF EMPATHY (especially when you think that this version of Misa and Light don’t know anything!!! Oh my god!! The fuck)

“I will make arrangements so you and I are together 24 hours a day” call me crazy but I would not want to spend 24/7 with the man who imprisoned me for over a month while playing cruel psychological games all the while

“I’m one of those people who’ll accept Kira, I’d think of ways I could help him” Misa said Bimbo Rights

“I could never toy with a woman’s emotions like that” Light’s dating life and personality has gotten a LOT funnier since he forgot he was a murderer I kind of wish THIS could be the whole show

Also: Nice to know Light USED to have standards of how to treat women

Honestly fair play to both L and Light they both deserved to be punched and it’s funny to see eighteen episodes of mind games culminate in punching and kicking each other in the face

“Matsuda’s being an idiot again” “Well, Matsuda is a natural at that” wghkjhgkj what has Matsuda done to any of you

"He’s punishing criminals as a front, and killing people for the benefit of this company” is Light unknowingly going to solve the murder chain he himself started... inspiring

“I was testing you” this is why Light is your only friend, L, Aizawa has kids and it’s a dick move to ask him to put his convictions before them

Poor Matsuda realizing he’s got the least to offer to their team... me in high school science labs

I understand Aizawa’s moral crisis but why do NONE of these cops care about their wives or daughters they’re just kind of like, ‘I will provide for you but I have no interest in or fulfillment from being part of your life’ (ACAB)

Matsuda is truly about to die for being dumb and eager to help 😔 Rest in Pieces

“We must not allow Yotsuba to figure out that we are investigating them,” said L, just after it cut from Matsuda being obvious about investigating them. Oh Matsuda 😔 you’re so bad at your job 😔

MATSUDAAAAAAAA oh thank goodness; Bimbo Rights save the day

“I can’t go along with your idea, it’s wrong!” said Light, despite the fact it took him 15 seconds to get over murder the first couple of times he did it

Staaaaaaaaay Good Light, I don’t want ur Deathnotesona I want this young man with moral convictions!!

The level of hubris it takes to answer a phone call during your secret Murder Meeting while people continue to talk about their Murder Plans is just out of this world

“If I die, you could probably become the successor to the ‘L‘ name,” said L, to the person he has been trying to catch for twenty episodes

“I won’t say anything under any kind of torture” “Yes that’s true” Which he knows because he tortured her for six weeks!! You see that that’s fucked up, L, right? RIGHT??? RIIIIIIIIGHT? (LIIIIIIIGHT???)

Seriously not to beat a dead Shinigami but Light is so much better like this. He doesn’t want to throw people’s lives away for the investigation! He wants to protect Misa! He thinks Kira is wrong! Why does he have to be a murderer!!! Why can’t this show be about a nice young man!!!!

“Hey Ryuzaki, that’s messed up!” THANK YOU LIGHT AGAIN I KNOW YOU BOTH HAVE KILLED PEOPLE BUT YOU DON’T KNOW THAT RIGHT NOW SO FOR ALL MISA KNOWS HE’S JUST A GUY WHO TORTURES HER AND TELLS HER CRUSH WILL DIE IF SHE DOESN’T HELP

Wow Rem is so ride or die for Misa protecting Misa from creepy Higuchi, giving her info and telling her to trust Light, that’s love bitch

Props to Misa for getting a confession out of Higuchi after one (1) car ride

Why do I feel like L is going to be responsible for reawakening Bad Light is it because he psychologically tortured him for six weeks? Had his dad hold him at gunpoint? Forced Misa to investigate on his behalf? Constantly and unerringly presses him on what Kira would be thinking as he’s handcuffed to him 24 hours a day? Maybe!! This is like Build-a-Bear but he’s customizing his Teen Murder Friend

“Only Mr. Matsuda can do [the mission to lure out Higuchi!Kira]” Death Note really said the Himbos, Herbos and Thembos shall inherit the Earth

They keep saying they don’t know how he kills but it seems pretty obvious that he writes down their names to kill, they literally saw him do it

I really don’t want any of the investigation team to die but things are not looking hot :(

“Ryuzaki, I never knew you could fly a helicopter” “It’s just intuition” what does that MEAN

“Those aren’t allowed in Japan,” said Light, about a gun, as if he had not killed probably thousands of people without one

In spite of this fact I really do want Good Light to stay 😔 Why! Can’t! This! Show! Be! About! A! Nice! Young! Man!

Also they really are playing into this father-and-son duo I will be very sad when the dad inevitably dies as I’m sure he will

Family side note: I’ve been wondering this since the prison ep but where do Light’s mom and sister think he IS now that he’s dropped out of first year uni to be a teen criminal investigator handcuffed to a maladjusted homebody private eye

AIZAWAAA and also the other two guys I guess there was a plot relevant reason for him to rejoin the police huh

Well what a clean ending to this Kira arc. No one died and the killer was caught! Yikes that the next ep is called ‘Revival’ tho 😔 Rest in pieces Good Light

Also a new and very threatening intro???? What happened to the Twilight Apple Hands

BOOOO I knew Light would get his memory back but I was hoping it would at least fuck him up for a while he sorted out his two personas but I guess all roads eventually lead to Bad Light

Full disclosure I stopped watching for a few days just after Light got his memory back and let me tell u coming back later hasn’t made it any more tolerable I am truly not built for this EUGH

“Do you really want to halve your life a second time” “Well, that can’t be helped” REALLY???? CAN’T IT BE HELPED MISA??? WHY ARE YOU AND LIGHT SO CRAZY

Oh I guess we’re back to Light saying incredibly suspicious things right near the investigators lmao what if those cameras secretly had audio or you know, L simply knew how to read lips

“Misa, let’s make a new world together” Remember a bunch of episodes ago when Good Light was all ‘I could never toy with a woman’s emotions’?? What was the reason!!!

“Have you ever told the truth at any point in your entire life” L cutting straight to the core lmao (also the answer is obviously ‘no’)

This show has taken a jarring tonal shift why are they having a post-rain-confrontation massage and towelling each other off this is a level of intimacy I was not prepared for I NEED PEOPLE TOOK LOOK AT THIS:

OKAY OKAY OKAY I KNOW THAT IT WAS PROBABLY NOT THEIR INTENTION BUT THE ONLY WAY I CAN READ THIS SCENE IS AS “Don’t kill me Light~ 🥰 I’ll fuck you~ 🥰”

I guess L knew he was forcing Rem’s hand to kill him if he disproved the rules written in the book?? But to what end omg how does this help anyone

“In April 2012, Light Yagami, age 23, joins the National Police Agency” should’ve known we’d land here eventually (ACAB)

Ah, I see another person who doesn’t know how to sit, clearly they will inherit the L title next lmao

Update from the first few mins of the next ep: “Near should succeed L” told you

“There’s no way I’m letting Sayu marry a detective” ahjfkhkjf he’s a little old for her I think but it wouldn’t be the worst thing this show has done romantically lmao; maybe Sayu would get to investigate her brother

“I might’ve considered going out with you, if you were a little younger” HA GOOD FOR HER

“[...] the Japanese police are unreliable. In order to solve this case, we want you to hand over the notebook to our country.” Of all the Japanese-speaking Americans in this show, this is the most accurate jkhfkhf the US government really is Like That

Ah, so that’s where Mello’s gone, oh how the turn tables

Also way to sell your subordinates out immediately, NPA Director, will you give them the Kira task force’s home addresses too

The real question is if Light actually cares about his sister enough to prioritize her over the notebook

“Call me... N” Oh my good L... M(ello)... N(ear)... Oooooooooooooooo

It’s my saving grace that I only need to get through 9 more eps but as always I must wonder where this is going will Light just die and end up in Shinigami purgatory while the people who knew him after the fact go, ‘hey, that guy was fucked up’

“If things get bad, I’ll have to kill Sayu” well I guess that answers that question, my expectations of Light are so low and yet he continues to find new ways to be awful

Good for Mr. Yagami and Sayu for getting out of that alive I guess but hoo boy I think this is going to have some psychological repercussions for both of them

Uh oh this episode is called ‘Father’ I’ve been dreading this one bc I think that means Mr. Yagami is about to die 😭😭😭

“It was an institution for brilliant children, to raise them to become L‘s successor” okay calm down Professor Xatari that’s not what children are for lmao

Well I guess it’s a lot easier to track down info about these two guys than it was to figure out L lmao

HAHAHA Sidoh haunting Ryuk to ask for his stuff is a fun addition to this madness

“He’s scary for a human” jkhhfjh how unhinged does Mello have to be to threaten a literal Shinigami

I truly don’t understand the logistics of how they revealed Ryuk to the police force isn’t the second Kira notebook supposed to belong to Actual Kira, in the police force’s eyes????? I do not understand how Light can just turn up with another notebook and everyone’s like ‘sure cool’ did I miss something

Mr. Yagami killed for being unable to take human life ugh this is the worst

“You’re not Kira. I’m really glad.” WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THIS IS SO SAD MR. YAGAMI NOOOOOOOOOO THAT’S WHY HE RENOUNCED OWNERSHIP OF THE NOTEBOOK

Neither Mello nor Near seem overly concerned with the lives of people around them does being a Super Genius Investigator also mean you have to be a dick (is this Benadryl Coddleswab Sherlock syndrome)

Lmaooo genuinely love how it’s constantly apparent that Light is the least smart of all of the smart people Light spent five years working on his reputation and it took Near one (1) phone call to destroy it

Ghjkhgkhgkgjh Light outsmarted by Near yet again never think people will prioritize principles over money

Lol yeah Aizawa needn’t have given a name after he said the “Deputy Director Yagami would kill Kira and then himself” thing, you don’t do that just for anyone who was he fooling

How does Light keep track of all the renunciations and notebooks bc I certainly can’t

Ffhkfjhfj Mikami truly looks like the son of L and Light it’s like Light missed him and was like, “Miss u boo :( (even tho I kinda killed u) I’ll adopt An Evil 27-year-old in ur honour :)”

Is Mikami’s story really, ‘I got bullied in high school and have mommy issues so now I think people I don’t like should die’ ok Shonen Snape

“I just want you to meet with me and hear me out” Light really proving to Aizawa that he can lie AND manipulate people’s feelings

“The truth is, she’s not smart enough to be my partner” first of all Light I think this show has proven you’re not that smart, and Misa’s Herbo Energy is effervescent and will outlast you, and third of all go to jail

“He’ll look suspicious if he doesn’t say something soon” “Ide, have you ever been in love” Matsuda continues to be the only good part of this show

“You’re the only man I’ve ever respected and admired in my life” GET SOME THERAPY KIYOMI

“You’re going to be the goddess of the new world” so it’s not enough for Light to be a murderer he must also be a cheater

Lmao Near’s powers of perception do seem a little B/BC S/herlock because L tried for literally months to work out the possibilities and Near is just like ‘I KNOW IT NOW’

“The only thing I can deduce from this is that Light Yagami is popular with the ladies” HEAVEN KNOWS WHY (PUN NOT INTENDED)

Every moment Aizawa gets closer to proving Light is Kira is another step closer to death 😔

“This is definitely Mikami’s handwriting” Not to be a know-it-all, Near, but handwriting analysis has been proven faulty many times in multiple courts of law

This truly is a game of Cat and Cat. All these hidden plans give me a headache fkjhkfjh call me Misa-Misa and spin me sideways I don’t have the braincells to spare

Well this is definitely some kind of s*xual assault absolutely fucking hate it wow this show truly just drains the life out of you

“Matt, I never thought you would be killed” why wouldn’t you think that at this point anyone who comes close to this investigation eventually dies (also wjkhkjhgk why is Matt special didn’t you kill all those thugs you had before -- Mello said ‘the lives of my allies are only important if they are drawn in handsome protag style’)

As of yet I haven’t really talked about Near’s wild toymaking but hoo boy is that L finger puppet something to observe

“Everyone who knows about the existence of the notebook will die” I’m still pulling for their survival, particularly Matsuda (himbo rights!!!)

Imagine if they just shot Light Yagami on sight how ironic would that conclusion to all these mind games be

“I’m waiting, for the one who will solve everything, to arrive” Lmao if it turns out L is alive I’ll pee laughing this show is so fucking stupid

Take a shot every time there is a Humpty-Dumpty-in-Puss-in-Boots style explanation about how everything actually happened

“I’ve won, Near” I bet/hope what gets Light caught is his inability to hold in his hubris for one (1) minute

Although the last episode is called New World, in which case maybe he wins in a very weird ending to a very weird show

Sjkfhkjhfkhfkjhf well I guess what gets Light caught is that the person he invited to be his murderous disciple keeps calling him God

“A second ago, you said ‘I win.’ That’s as good a confession as any” HA hubris strikes again also bold of Aizawa to clap Light on the shoulder knowing he is a mass murderer

Ohhh Matsuda he’s so nice and believed the best of Light :((((((((((((

Watching Light become increasingly desperate and crazed is very uncomfortable give it up dude u’ve been beat (though I suppose there is time for everyone here to be murdered still lmao)

LMAO LIGHT SAID “IF YOU CAN’T BEAT ‘EM, CONVERT ‘EM”

Yeah I figured if one of them was gonna shoot it would be Matsuda :( :( Good for him for not killing Light tho!!

Huh I guess that’s the end of the show I thought Light would die but I did think we’d at least get to see him in Shinigami Purgatory or smth... what a wild ride. This certainly was a show.

#ayesha talks anime #ayesha liveblogs dn #liveblogging #long post #sorry for any dn fans who stumble across this lmao i don't have the constitution for it

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taelme · 5 years ago

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High school classmate!Lucas

genre: it’s kind of set in like the past? like u know those like Taiwanese school dramas like that kind of vibe mixed with like reply 1988 vibes idk how to classify it , so high school!au (fluff, slow burn, angst with a relatively happy ending)

pairing/s: Lucas / Reader, ( some of nct/superm/wayv appear in this!! ( just Kun, Ten, and Sicheng ) )

word count: 12k+

tw: like domestic abuse like,,, tough family situations,,

a/n: this was kind of inspired by a dream I had of Lucas and like I’m honestly really in love with like the vibes of those like Taiwanese school dramas like ‘Our Times’ and like those dramas with the vibes of like the Reply series, so I thought I would try something different and do something for Lucas inspired by that,,, so enjoy!! I had a lot of fun imagining how Lucas would behave if he were in this situation..

Usually, Lucas would have stuck to just pacing around the stretch of field near his house whenever he left his house out of boredom when his parents weren’t home, but he didn’t regret wandering into the market on the day of his 8th birthday, after a ritual cutting of a small cupcake his housemaid had prepared for him. Because if he hadn’t decided to wander, his life wouldn’t have changed, according to him. ( which really meant he wouldn’t have stumbled across your grandma’s noodle shop )

“Hello,” your grandma smiled in greeting, waving at the young boy who looked fascinated at such a place, never having been to any eating place other than a restaurant before. Lucas waved shyly at her, carefully climbing onto a stool near the table next to the kitchen, watching in fascination as your grandma cooked.

“What’s your name, dear?” she asked the rosy cheeked boy, who fiddled with his short bangs before replying a quick, “Huang Xuxi,” to her.

It didn’t take long for your grandma to realize why the name sounded so familiar, realizing this boy was from the rich family that had just moved into the neighbourhood barely a month ago.

“You want something to eat?” Lucas considered her offer as seriously as any 8 year old would, glancing between the kitchen to your grandma, before reaching into his pocket and being only met with fabric, frowning upon realizing he hadn’t brought money with him.

Shaking his head in reply, rather sadly at that, he told your grandma, “I don’t have any money with me....”

She had simply laughed in reply, shaking her head, “Oh, that won’t be necessary, Xuxi. You can have it for free.”

His eyes widened in delight, smiling at her appreciatively.

She’d brought a small bowl of her dumpling soup noodles back to where the boy sat. Watching with a motherly smile on her face as he took his first sip of the soup, his eyes widening.

“Aunty...I love you,” your grandma guffawed, reaching out a hand to pat the boy’s head endearingly.

Lucas’ eyes widened in realization, “you know...” he leaned closer to your grandma with the intention to divulge a big secret, his eyes widening the closer he got to her, his voice lowering to a whisper. “A girl in my class gave me a dumpling that tastes just like this!”

Your grandma tilted her head at him, having a feeling she knew who he was talking about. “And what might this girl’s name be?”

“Y/N!” he told her with a grin, munching on an amount of noodles that seemed too much for his tiny mouth.

“I’ll tell you a secret,” your grandma leaned closer to his ear, “she’s my granddaughter.”

The noodles threatened to slip out from Lucas’ mouth when he gasped loudly, giggling after as he covered his mouth so his noodles could stay inside.

“What do you think of her?” your grandma asked him, seeing him stare at his noodles with a smile playing at his lips, shrugging repeatedly.

“She’s....cute,” he mumbled, making your grandma laugh.

“I’ll tell you what, whenever you come here you can get a free bowl of noodles,” his eyes widened, nodding profusely till your grandma continued, “on one condition.”

He nodded at her, putting on his best serious-looking face to show her he was ready, “Help me look after Y/N in school,” Lucas figured at that time that this was a simple request, bringing his hand up in a salute position.

“Will do, aunty!”

===

Now, 18 year old Lucas had developed his ‘efficient fool-proof system’ to do small things that would make things easier for you without you knowing.

For instance, using his good rapport with the market vendors to make sure you would already have the freshest possible selection for the noodle shop, to even silently going out of his way to make sure nobody in school gave you trouble for your background ( which meant that he would personally pay for your new set of uniform every school year, passing it to Sicheng and instructing him to tell you it was given by the school )

“You look lovely, dear,” your gaze fluttered to the figure standing at the doorway, which was none other than your grandmother, dressed in shoddy clothes and an old apron, what you recognized to be her work clothes.

Your family wasn’t well off ( well by family, you meant your grandma and yourself since it's been that way since you could remember ), you barely scraped by off of the profits your grandma made from her noodle shop that you occasionally helped out with, but you still received supplies from the school.

Such as the uniform you were wearing now. Ironed crisp and clean, you passed off as any other average student in your school. You were thankful your school decided to implement uniforms earlier than other schools, since you really didn't think your normal clothes could compare to the other girls in your school, not wanting a repeat of the episode you experienced in the past.

You picked up your school bag from where it was on the bed, walking over to kiss your mother on the cheek, “bye mama, I’ll be home by 6.”

Your grandma waved her hand at you in dismissal, clucking her tongue at you disapprovingly, “It’s okay, it’s okay! Take your time. Have a good day at school!”

You picked up the pace as you walked, eager to avoid bumping into Sicheng and his friends, especially not at this time of the morning. But you seemed to have spoken too soon, hearing the familiar sound of bicycle wheels whirring and boyish shouting.

They would call you with a teasing tone, making you wince, avoiding eye contact with them until one of them wheeled their bicycles in front of you, stopping your path.

“What do you want, Sicheng,” You huffed, staring up at him impatiently.

The boy scrunched up his nose as he shot you a mischievous smile, “is it such a crime that i wanted to say good morning to you?” his words were all meshed together in a combined mumble, a habit of Sicheng's ever since he was young, but the black haired boy never seemed to care too much about it- since after all, to him it didn't make a difference as long as you understood him.

“Yeah, okay fine, good morning. Now would you please get out of my way so I can go to school?” Believe you, you loved Sicheng, but sometimes you really did miss your quiet walks to school to enjoy the scenery at your own pace.

“C’mon, your grandma wouldn’t be happy if I just let you walk even though I have a bike, let me give you a ride.”

You knew this could go either of two ways. Either you stand firm and have a long battle with Sicheng to let you walk to school on your own, or you suck it up and let him give you a ride to school.

The ride to school would have seemed harmless to anyone else, since Sicheng was a friend of yours for as long as you could remember, but it was just that you would rather not hang out with him while he was with his friends, since they didn't exactly have the best reputation in school.

You did a once-over at his friends that were with him currently, a senior named Ten with short choppy black hair and many piercings (and very expensive shoes, you noted), and a boy your age that went by the name of Lucas. Although you could talk and joke around with Ten one-to-one, you don’t think you’ve ever had a proper sentence spoken to you by Lucas before.

The boy was all expensive sneakers, sports brand bags, the latest music tapes that were extremely hard to get if you didn't save up. He lived pretty near you, so you would usually walk past his giant- at least compared to yours -house whenever you were on your way to the market, sometimes even catching a glimpse of his mother leaving the house to go to work on rare days when the car was parked in the house. It was almost as if the placement of his house was just a daily reminder for you that you were both from different worlds.

Sure there were times you would think was cute, and you may have given him your last dumpling when you were younger as an unspoken love offering, but as you grew older, you felt like maybe you and Lucas just shouldn't, and wouldn't happen. After all, you figured your heart was too weak to get put up for rejection.

You were pulled from your thoughts when you saw Sicheng snapping his fingers in front of your face, snatching your gaze from Lucas.

"So...?" he raised an eyebrow.

“Alright, but don’t drive too fast,” you told Sicheng, hurling yourself onto the back of his bicycle with your back facing his, making sure your skirt was covering whatever it needed to cover, grabbing on tighter to the seat when the abrupt start of the bicycle moving almost made you lose your balance.

Ten had gone ahead and rode his bicycle faster than Sicheng, which had only meant Lucas was directly in your view. He pedalled effortlessly, his gaze on you intent, as if he had wanted to say something, but decided against it in the end. You had almost let yourself get carried away watching how he would do things with a certain amount of charisma that you found almost difficult not to look at, even the small smirk he gave you when he caught you staring at him left you breathless.

“Don’t flirt with Lucas behind my back, okay.” Sicheng sing-songed, earning a hearty eye-roll from you, your eyes darting nervously to look at Lucas for a reaction but strangely he had seemed absolutely unaffected. Instead, he simply huffed and pedalled faster, overtaking Sicheng and maintaining his pace there.

You felt almost hurt at this unspoken rejection, not knowing how to come back from the incident, tried your best to push any kind of curious thought you had about Lucas away from your head during the ride.

What was so special about him anyway? you huffed at the thought. Other than the fact that he was the son of a prestigious lawyer and company owner, and that he was the star of the school's basketball team, there wasn't much else for you to work with when it came to unraveling who exactly Lucas Wong was. ( well other than the occasional rumour that he was in a gang and got into fights frequently )

Though Sicheng was your closest friend, you had never spoken to him on the topic of Lucas any further than simple things like how well he played at a game or how nice his hair looked that day. There were rumours floating around that his family situation was rough, but you knew it wasn't your place to ask.

Little did you know, Sicheng wasn't as well informed about it as you thought he was; only aware of the fact that Lucas would leave home occasionally, and skip school a few days after.

"Hey! Wait up! Oh-I guess he isn't gonna wait up after all," you peeped your head around to see Lucas having disappeared from sight.

"Let me know if you see him at class today, yeah? God, it's the first day of the school year; he can't possibly be skipping already," Sicheng huffed with the tone of a worried mother, but instead of laughing, you couldn't help but sympathise with him, wincing slightly out of pity.

You shrugged your shoulders, your hands still gripping the seat of the bicycle, "to be honest, I just wouldn't care if I were you, I mean, what's the point if he's not gonna listen anyway? I wouldn't be surprised if he gets kicked out of his house again, he's asking for it with those bad grades he brings home all the time," you were taken aback by the sharp thump on your head you received from Sicheng after that statement.

"Don't ever say that again. I'll tell you this once and I won't say it again, Y/N. Sometimes for Lucas, just a little care is all he's asking for."

===

"Class, please look at the notice board in front of the class for your new seating arrangement," your class representative had announced amidst the sound of reunions and loud chatter before the teacher arrived.

Making a beeline for the notice board, you analysed the seating plan as you munched on the dumplings your grandma had packed for you for breakfast, your index finger finally landing on your name on the square at the corner of the room, looking at the squares to your seat’s perimeter, you noticed that the table behind you, at the very back corner of the class next to the window belonged to the very boy you were hoping you wouldn't need to be in such close contact with, Lucas. The sound of the girls at the table near you chatting animatedly suddenly becoming deafening.

"Did you hear? Lucas Wong rejected Hana from year 3's confession? She looked so afraid I almost felt bad for the poor girl!" you heard one of them lament, and you made to walk past them as slow as you could so you could hear more.

"When did she do it?"

"This morning!" you tuned out the rest of the conversation, figuring this was just another reason to add to your list of reasons 'why you shouldn't go after Lucas Wong'.

You figured if you wanted to continue to lay low in school, you would stick to admiring him from afar, instead of putting yourself up to get hurt like that. There were only a few ways to look at Lucas for people in your school: you either didn't want to get involved with him, were scared of him or you liked him ( sometimes all three for people in situations like yours )

You reassured yourself that seeing Lucas wouldn't be a problem if you just didn't try to cross paths with him, until you looked for your seat and realised that there was Lucas seated at the desk behind yours. His long legs stretched out on your chair, hoodie-covered head leaning against the windowsill, eyes closed peacefully with earpiece plugged into his ears.

Your hands unconsciously clenched harder on the dumplings, anxiously contemplating finding another chair since yours was currently being used as a leg rest, but you couldn't see a free chair in sight, eventually deciding to munch on the dumpling you had, in the hopes that it would give you strength for what you were about to do.

Just as you were going closer to Lucas, he was already very aware of your presence next to him, the dumpling you were eating awakening his senses to the very first time he ate that same dumpling. His stomach growling softly, making him flush in embarrassment with his eyes still closed.

Your gentle fingers prodded at his shoulder lightly, and you had to remind yourself to keep chewing as you saw the way his eyelids fluttered open and his gaze landed on you. Shifting his upper body slightly to face you, Lucas lifted a hand to remove the earpieces from his ears, giving u an expectant look.

"Uh...sorry, I know you were sleeping and all but uh..I kind of...you know, need my chair," you pointed at the chair his legs were currently resting on, "and there's no extra chair here so uh...yeah if you could just...you know, give it back?"

Lucas looked at you with a curious expression, setting his earpiece down on the table, and you found yourself almost afraid to make eye contact with him, lest your face turn red from the attention he was giving you.

"What do I get in return?" his voice shocked you, seeing as you've never heard it in a while, you never noticed it could get this deep.

"Uh...what do you want? I'm not sure if I can get you those branded stuff, then again you probably have them already-"

His gaze flickered between you and the item of food you were holding in your hands, "I want the dumpling," he spoke.

You cocked an eyebrow at his unexpected request.

"This? You want this dumpling? Are you sure? You've probably tasted a lot better.."

He shot you a smirk, tilting his head at you, "I said I want the dumpling, not your house. You don't have to fight me." He held out his hand expectantly, making you reach out hesitantly before finally placing the small plastic bag onto his hand with a shaky breath leaving your lips, seeing him shoot you a smile and use his free hand to pat your head twice.

"Good girl," he lifted his legs off the chair with a thud that seemed both harsh yet dramatic, "the chair's yours."

You turned around and hauled the chair back to your seat, all sorts of confusion washing over you from that interaction, completely oblivious to the stares your classmates were giving the both of you. God help you if you wanted to get through this year sane.

===

“Y/N, I packed an extra breakfast, pass it to cheng cheng for me would you? His mother is out of town so he doesn’t have lunch.” You hummed as you packed the blue lunchbox with white flower patterns on it into your bag, though you knew for a fact that Sicheng had no problem with his mom not cooking lunch for him, since it gave him an excuse to loiter out later with Lucas and Ten.

You proceeded to school as per normal, handing Sicheng’s lunch to him when you passed by his class in the morning, assuming it was very much enjoyed by him judging from how the lunchbox would come back to you practically clean at the end of the day.

You noticed that Lucas was coming to school more often, tending to see him hanging around with Sicheng. But you weren’t sure for exactly what since you were on a short school break now, and the only reason you went to school was because you had to prepare for the sports fest as part of class committee.

After which, you would usually wait for Sicheng to be done with soccer practice before you two would go home together. So there was your routine for your break thus far, and now, on an absolutely blistering Tuesday afternoon, you found yourself sat in the spectating area overlooking the soccer field, using your textbook to shelter your head from the heat.

You contemplated filling your water bottle since you were thirsty and well, had nothing else better to do, but figured stealing from Sicheng would be a lot more convenient. Making your way down the bleachers carefully, you straightened out your messy skirt, smoothing out the creases that had formed after sitting for so long.

Quickly locating Sicheng’s bag from the messy scrawl of his name in white marker on the bag strap, you shuffled around in it and was about to take the water bottle from his backpack, until you realised there was something missing from the bag; your extra lunchbox.

You found it a little strange, not knowing why Sicheng would have misplaced your lunchbox like that, about to turn around and pull him out of practice to give him an earful about it before you saw Lucas jogging towards you, standing abruptly still upon spotting you, his hands behind his back and his gaze looking elsewhere as he quickly made a sharp turn, walking away from your direction.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, completely forgetting that you were thirsty since Lucas had definitely seemed as though he was going to go towards your direction before he'd seen you, so you decided you would carry out a little experiment.

Stepping away from Sicheng's bag carefully, making as if to walk to the water cooler, you'd hid behind a pillar where you would be blocked from Lucas' gaze, watching said boy indeed making his way back to the bleachers carefully, his long legs stumbling and stretching over the bags to bend down to Sicheng's bag, finally pulling out what he was holding behind his back, your gaze practically burning holes into the lunchbox as you watched him shove it back into Sicheng's bag quickly.

Sicheng was going to have to answer to this.

After practice, you bounded down the spectator stand, standing with your hands on your hips next to Sicheng, a deep frown on your face.

“What’s got you looking so ugly?” He smirked, using his knuckle to nudge your head lightly, flicking his hair away from his face as he reached over to pick up his bag and sling it over his shoulder.

“Dong Sicheng, you’d better get some answers ready.”

===

“Alright,” you began just as you both turned onto the road of your neighbourhood, the clicking of his bicycle almost unnoticeable from how long you both had been walking, “have you been eating my grandma's lunch boxes?”

Sicheng shot you a look of disbelief, his sudden slip of his hand on his bicycle giving away that you had caught him off guard, though he straightened up quickly, replying ever so stoically.

“Yeah, of course, I mean, they come back to you empty don’t they?”

“Oh yeah, they do. D’you remember what she made for you yesterday?” Sicheng's eyes darted in so many directions within a span of a few seconds. Praying to God that what he would guess would actually be correct.

“Noodles with soup?” you frowned at him, earning a sigh from Sicheng, knowing he had trapped himself then and there.

“You’ve been giving them to Lucas, haven’t you?” you accused, like a parent who had found their child doing something they weren't supposed to behind their back.

You held the silence, watching Sicheng squirm visibly before he gave in.

“Okay, fine! I did. But what’s so bad about that?!”

“God, Sicheng, he’s rich! Why can’t he get his own lunch? Why does he have to eat yours! What have you been eating for lunch then?”

Sicheng sighed, “Look, he doesn’t get lunch either, alright? And I mean, isn’t it good that he loves your grandma's cooking so much? What’s with you and always thinking people have bad intentions?” He told you, disbelief laced in his tone.

Ignoring his last question, you scoffed at him, “that wasn’t my grandma's cooking, Cheng, it was mine. Mama told me to start making them on my own because the restaurant needed to open earlier and she couldn’t get enough sleep so I did it instead. All those extra dumplings ‘you’ asked for? All me.”

“Oh,” Sicheng murmured, making you groan loudly, “Lucas doesn’t even acknowledge my presence on a daily basis, and I’ve been making lunch for him for two weeks now? You’ve gotta be kidding me, Sicheng.”

“Okay, Y/N, I’m sorry. But there wasn’t much I could do, he looked really happy eating it. It's the first proper meal he’s had in ages.”

“He should pay me.”

Sicheng shot you a pleading look, “can’t it be service for a friend?”

You glared at him, “No. He’s not my friend, he’s your friend.”

“And any friend of mine is a friend of yours, am I right?” he smiled at you sheepishly, flinching slightly when you snapped at him.

“Cut the crap, Cheng. If he wants more noodles, he can come to the store and pay for them himself.”

===

“Hey, Y/N, can you stay back to finish up the boards for next week? we sort of need them by the end of this week” you were stuck in the dusty classroom trying to design, draw and colour the signboards for the sports fest, only halfway done when you heard a knock at the door, from the class representative informing you she was about to lock the classroom so you had better find another place to do the signboards and hold the flyers.

You complied, albeit reluctantly, stacking the boards and boxes of flyers ( which were atrociously heavy you may add ) until they piled up so high you couldn’t see the stairs as you were heading down them.

Hoping to God you wouldn’t bump into anything, you slowly made your way down, but soon you heard the loud thundering of running on the steps.

“You’d better run!” you heard a boy shout before something hard smacked into you from behind, causing you to lose your balance, sending you falling down the stairs with a yelp.

You tried to break your fall but were too late, your wrist coming into contact with the floor and feeling as though you had just had it run over by a car, the boxes and boards strewn about around you. Hearing light footsteps in a run, you felt a hand on both your shoulders, looking up to see Lucas in his sports attire, his hair messy and slightly damp with sweat, looking at you with concern, before turning to the direction of the people that had bumped into you, shouting what would have sounded like a threat if you weren't too focused on the pain in your wrist to pay attention.

“Are you okay? Are you hurt anywhere?” you tried to recover from the shock that he was actually talking to you before replying him,

“I hope not, I mean, I think I’m okay? My wrist really hurts though, I feel like it's broken.”

He made a grim face, “come with me,” he easily helped you up.

“Can you walk?”

You nodded in reply, watching him scoop up the boards and carry the boxes along with an ease you were almost envious of.

You let him lead you to the school nurse's office, though you were still a bit tense regarding the whole lunchbox exchange you had with Sicheng earlier that day. You found that Lucas was very familiar with the nurse from always faking sick to get out of school.

“Hey doc, she fell down the stairs, can you check if her wrist is messed up?”

“It feels like it’s broken,” the nurse smiled, letting a small laugh escape her lips.

“For the last time, I’m not a doctor, Lucas. And it’s not broken, honey. Looks like you’ve just sprained it. You might find it a little difficult to write or do things with your hand the next few days, so just be careful, hmm?” she scribbled something down on the paper attached to her clipboard, noticing the way Lucas stared at her and nodded intently with a pensive look on his face as if she was giving him life advice, almost making you smile.

But that moment was short-lived when your gaze shifted to the incomplete signboards you were supposed to send for approval the next day, not knowing how you were going to complete all of that in time with your bad wrist.

The nurse kindly wrapped your wrist, and once you were done you noticed the sun was already setting, making you sigh once again. You weren't even able to push your worry aside to have enough time to refuse Lucas' help to bring the flyers and banners to your house, being an unspoken agreement.

You found yourself almost nervous during the walk home, afraid things would get awkward again given Lucas' non-existent urge to talk to you on the daily. But what had happened instead gave you a surprise, and a rather pleasant one at that.

“Are these the signboards for the sports meet thing?” you nodded with a hum of confirmation.

“I have no idea how I’m gonna finish them by tomorrow with my wrist like this..” you lamented, kicking at the ground as you walked.

He bit his lip, cutting in quickly before you could continue, “I can help you...and stuff. I have nothing on tonight...and it's not like you can do everything yourself with that wrist and all....” Lucas offered, his lips pressing into a thin line as he looked away from you to try to calm his heart which was racing so much.

“Are you sure? It’s not exactly the fun-est thing in the world..”

“No, really it’s fine, I want to,” he dismissed you, making you scrunch your nose up in distaste but agreeing anyway, not in any position to refuse.

===

“My grandma's still at work, so is it alright with you if I just heat up something from the fridge?”

He nodded profusely, setting the materials down with a rather loud thump on top of your dining table, “yeah, that’s fine by me. If you need help just tell me, alright? I’ll just get started on the boards first.”

You decided to take a quick shower first, undoing the wrap around your wrist so it wouldn’t get wet, after which, you changed into your more presentable pyjamas since Lucas was over, you quickly went to the kitchen and looked in the fridge to see if there was any leftover noodles.

Doing your best to heat it up and pour it into a nicer-looking bowl with your bad wrist, you slowly carried the bowls one by one to the living room, seeing his head shoot up at the smell wafting in from the kitchen. It was safe to say you wanted to present the best you could to him, not wanting him to think lowly of you or anything.

“Oh my God.” His mouth dropped open at the sight of the food before turning into a big smile, staring intently at the bowls before glancing at you, his gaze moving to your wrist and realising it was unwrapped.

The smile disappeared from his face, being replaced with a slight frown, letting out a little upset sound, a ‘tsk-tsk’ leaving his lips, he grabbed the bandage he saw lying on the table, “come here, sit down,” he instructed you.

You nervously watched as his big hands carefully wrapped your wrist just like how the nurse did, delicately but firmly, seeing how careful he was in tucking the ends into the bandage.

Letting a small smile of satisfaction appear on his face after he was done, “there, better?” he looked to you for affirmation, and you finally looked up from your wrist to make eye contact with him, seeming awfully similar to a little boy with that expression as you gave him a smile in return, nodding.

“Much better, thank you.”

You pushed the bowl towards him on the table, a little part of you feeling happy at how his smile grew bigger at the gesture.

“Thank you,” he murmured with a gentleness unlike anything you’ve seen before when it came to Lucas. Usually when one thinks of Lucas they would think of rowdiness, or big, rough actions, nothing like the Lucas you were currently witnessing for yourself.

“You really like the noodles, don’t you?” he looked at you mid scoffing down the food upon hearing your voice, making you let out a giggle.

Slurping the rest of his mouthful, a shy smile graced his face he nodded at you. “It tastes really...nostalgic.”

“How so?” you asked, curiosity taking over you.

“I uh..it’s a funny story actually, but...maybe for next time.” you hummed, nodding because you didn’t want to push him to do something out of his comfort zone.

After you ate, he had insisted on helping you to wash the dishes, claiming you had to let your hand rest.

"I noticed you've been coming to school more recently," you murmured casually, standing next to where he stood at the sink washing your dishes, seeing Lucas turn his head to look at you with a smirk.

"Well someone's pretty observant," he teased, a giggle leaving his lips as he looked back at the soapy dishes.

“What made you want to come?” you asked him, watching him pause his scrubbing at the dishes.

Lucas hummed in thought, pursing his lips before giving you a shrug, "Just, felt like it I guess."

“So...you didn't come to school before because you didn't feel like it?” you helped to put the dishes aside as he washed his hands, wiping them on his uniform as he let a small huff of half-hearted laughter leave his lips.

"Guess you could say that," he murmured.

“Weren’t you scared?”

Lucas turned to look at you with an eyebrow raised, “Of what?”

You frowned in confusion, “you know, don’t the teachers give you shit for not coming to school?”

He shook his head, walking back with you to your small dining table where the banners and posters were laid out. “They don’t really care anymore. But I’m planning on making a change this year!” he grinned at you, making you raise your eyebrows skeptically.

“You serious about that?” slightly surprised at his determination.

He nodded. “The serious-est.”

You let the conversation topic drop, with him taking a seat next to where you sat at the table and picked up on where he left off on the board, and you made yourself useful by doing whatever you could with your left hand, as well as telling him your ideas for the layout of the signboard and how you wanted to use the various materials. Though after a while Lucas had noticed you kept forgetting your wrist was injured and trying to help him cut things, nagging you for still trying to work when you should have been resting according to him.

“Lucas seriously, just let me help,” you insisted, a small pout on your lips.

“You can help me by resting,” he remained stubborn as ever, eventually leaving you to sit there and watch him.

You were surprised at how quickly he finished up the boards, just in time for when your grandma came home.

“Y/N! I’m back,” she called out, and you heard her soft shuffling get louder as she got closer to the dining table.

“Mama, I have a guest over,” you called out, hearing her squeal, practically running over to your room, her eyes lighting up when she saw Lucas.

“Xuxi?” You swore you'd never seen such a soft look in Lucas’ eyes before, seeing him get up to hug your grandma as if they’d known each other forever. “You’re so big now! I haven't seen you in so long,” she frowned playfully, making you even more confused.

“Do I wanna ask why?” you muttered, seeing Lucas’ cheeks tint pink in embarrassment, stepping back from your grandma and picking up his bag.

He brought a hand up to the side of his mouth in an action as if to whisper to you, mouthing a 'next time' to you with a soft smile,

“I hope Y/N has been good to you while you were here,” she looked at you pointedly, making you huff in exaggerated offence.

Lucas was quick to reply, shaking his head in dismissal, “oh, no it’s fine, I brought her home because she fell down the stairs in school, kind of messed up her wrist,” he gestured to his own wrist as he spoke, and your grandma's eyebrows knitted in concern.

“Oh gosh, sorry, she’s a clumsy one," she laughed, her hand reaching out to hold Lucas' hand in a rather delicate way, leaning in to whisper something to him you couldn't quite catch. You were beginning to feel as though you were the outsider here.

“Mama,” you whined, seeing the tiny crow’s feet beside her eyes appear as she laughed, shaking her head at you.

“You’d better be getting home, love, it’s getting late,” her tone was gentle as she spoke to him, and he nodded, bidding her goodbye before she left the room.

Lucas turned to face you, and you stood up, taking a step toward him, “I’ll be...heading off now,” he sounded almost breathless. “Rest your wrist, okay? see you,” he smiled at you, waving goodbye before he turned to leave.

You hadn't noticed you called him until he turned around, looking at you expectantly with his eyebrows raised, making you flush when your voice had sounded softer than you intended it to.

"Thanks, by the way, for helping me with the banners....I couldn't have finished it tonight without your help," you pressed your lips together in a tight-lipped smile, your hand reaching up to play with the lobe of your ear.

Stepping forward so he wasn't so far from you, he shook his head, "I'm glad I could help."

You felt for the first time as if you were watching yourself from a third person’s perspective, the way the wind suddenly seemed to be blowing at a perfect speed, and the music you could hear wafting outside from your grandma’s radio, to the way the streetlamp outside your house was casting the perfect shadow on Lucas’ face, right down to the way he smiled at you as if you were in a scene of a romantic drama ( that you were pretty sure if you were watching with Sicheng this would be the part you both start hitting each other excitedly )

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

You were lost for words, almost breathless at his soft shy smile. “Goodnight, Lucas.”

===

The next time you had lessons and your wrist was already starting to heal, you braved through the soreness you felt in your wrist and did your best to make lunch for both you and Lucas, even adding a small compartment where you placed a small packet of candy you had in the house.

Wrapping it up nicely, it was safe to say Lucas was shocked when you had handed the lunchbox to him directly, gaze darting between you and the lunchbox as if searching for some sort of affirmation that it belonged to him.

You felt eyes on you from some of your classmates, all eager to see how Lucas would reject you like how he usually did to girls who gave him things like this, but you barely noticed their gasps and murmurs from how happy you were when he took the lunchbox into his large hands, smiling so widely to you his happiness practically radiated from him.

"Consider it...a 'thank you', for helping me the other day," you told him, seeing him nod at you gratefully,

He lifted the lid of the lunchbox slightly, eyes widening when he saw its contents and looking at you with bright eyes, "I really, wow uh, I just, I wasn't expecting this...you made this?" he gestured at the half-opened lunchbox with his index finger.

You nodded in reply, "I've been making almost all of Sicheng’s," you swore you saw his face flush at that, his eyes widening but went back to normal quickly.

"You're really good at it," he said firmly, as if trying to convince you. To which you simply shrugged in reply.

"Wasn't sure why you liked them so much, but it's... all I have to offer, really." You took your seat in front of him, doing your best to suppress your racing heart when he leaned forward, as if he knew your heart was racing and he intentionally wanted to make it worse. ( But little did you know his heart was practically pounding in his chest he almost couldn't concentrate )

"Trust me, it's all I need."

"How are you gonna pass it back to me?" you asked him after class, watching how he slung his bag over his shoulder so smoothly, watching the way his eyebrows would raise as he thought, his lips pushed out resembling a duck.

"I'm working after this, so you can just pass it to Sicheng, he'll hand it over to me," you suggested, not very keen on Lucas seeing the ruckus of the noodle shop during peak hours.

Glancing at your watch, your eyes widened in realisation of the time, "I've gotta get going, bye Lucas!" you waved, seeing him wave back with a smile, his loud "Bye!" making you laugh.

What you didn't notice until now was that Lucas was the kind of person that would seem quiet on the outside, but once he was comfortable enough with you ( which for him, seemed to have happened after you injured your wrist ), he would let his true colours show. For example, especially with regards to Lucas, you tended to hear him before you actually saw him in most situations.

Now when he saw you in school, he would bellow your name from afar before jogging up to you, his hair ruffled and his shirt untucked, tie askew. He was the kind of boy to get through the crowd and go through all the trouble of getting to you for the sake of a 'good morning' greeting, or wanting to walk to class together.

Of course you couldn't refuse, because of how he'd already gone through the trouble of finding you in the crowd, simply choosing to enjoy his company instead of pay any attention to the girls who stared at you with such envy or shock. But you barely paid them many attention, since Lucas himself seemed to command all of your attention whenever he was with you. You couldn’t say you were complaining though, not when he’d been smiling a lot more and looking happier in general.

Your grandma was out of town temporarily, since she had to visit her sick sister. You were currently in the noodle shop on a weekday evening, trying to wait tables as quickly as you could since the dinner crowd was starting to come in.

With your hair pulled back into a ponytail, you wiped the sweat on your brow with your sleeve, trying your best to take orders and make the food at the same time, all the while trying to ignore the soreness you felt in your wrist whenever you carried things on the heavier side. You had just seated a group of middle aged working men who clearly had a few drinks before coming here. They had always given your grandma trouble, so you were praying in your heart that they wouldn’t be as troublesome to deal with today as well.

You had brought their food to their table, the narrow aisle between the tables preventing you from manoeuvring yourself around the table to serve them individually, choosing to stand at the same place and trust that they could pass down their bowls themselves since you knew your wrist wouldn’t be able to take it.

“How have you been? Haven’t seen you helping your grandma out in a while,” the uncle next to where you stood had let his hand linger on your arm, an uncomfortable warmth lingering there as you tried to calm your racing heartbeat.

You hadn't noticed Lucas’ bicycle pulling up next to the store over the loud chatter in the store, as he stepped into the doorway of your humble shop, his eyes practically glaring daggers at the uncle whose hand was starting to creep down your back, resting on your bum as you wriggled in his hold.

The rest of them were busy in their own tipsy state, telling you just how much you’ve grown.

“I have to get back to work-” you felt a presence behind you before the uncle in front of you had his hands roughly taken off you by Lucas.

Lucas pulled you back protectively behind him, “I don’t think that’s very appropriate of you, she’s clearly uncomfortable.”

The men had recognised Lucas to be his mother’s son, looking at him with evident contempt before cursing under their breath and resuming with their meals.

He followed your quick steps into the kitchen as you hurriedly cooked another bowl of noodles.

“Thanks, for that, by the way,” you said in choppy intervals, the steam from the wok giving you a good excuse for the blush creeping onto your cheeks.

“There’s no need to thank me,” he murmured from where he stood in the kitchen, his arms folded over his chest as he leant against the doorframe yet making sure he didn't get in your way.

“What are you doing here?” you looked away from your cooking to stare at his ruffled hair and messy school uniform, and almost lost it at the smile he gave you when you made eye contact with him.

Lucas' hand came up out of habit to cover his mouth, trying to regain his composure before he remembered he wasn't at one of his family dinners with corporate guests and that he could just be himself without you, slowly lowering his hand and letting his smile show.

Lucas gestured to the lunchbox he'd placed on the empty table in the kitchen. “Here to return your lunchbox, remember?” you made an ‘o’ shape with your mouth in realisation, nodding in understanding.

“Is it just you running the store today?” you nodded, seeing him shake his head, not seeming to like the answer you gave him.

“I’ll help you, alright? I’ll wait the tables and seat them and all that stuff, you just focus on cooking here, we’ll get the crowd cleared in no time,” he flashed you another of his optimistic smiles, his hand coming up in a fist to cheer you on before putting on a small apron and carrying the bowls you made to where you told him to bring them to, figuring you weren't in any position to say no to him right now.

And he was right, in no time you were finished tending to the dinner crowd and he had sat himself at the counter as he watched you take a seat next to him, rolling your wrist around slightly in an attempt to soothe it.

“God, that was fast, like really fast, thank you so much. I can’t imagine how much longer I would’ve taken if it weren’t for you helping me,” you told him. Lucas shook his head with a loud sound of dismissal, waving his hand at you, “It’s no problem. How come your grandma's not here?”

“She’s out of town for the month...her sister’s sick so she went to visit her, so I stayed here to take care of the house and the shop and all, since it’s pretty much...all we have," you sighed, refusing to look at him as you anticipated a look of pity or for Lucas to look at you as if you weren't good enough.

“I like it,” you shot him a confused look, and he was prompted to continue, “the shop, I mean. It’s cozy and warm.”

“What are you talking about? We can barely feel the heating in here unless you’re in the kitchen,” you laughed, shoving his shoulder playfully, seeing him shake his head.

“The feeling,” he explained, making you smile at how genuine he sounded.

“Hey, you know, if you could use some help here after school I don’t mind helping you...you know, since your grandma is out and everything..” he trailed off, looking away nervously as he anticipated your answer.

You pretended to contemplate even though you knew what you wanted to say, but then reality hit you again.

“Lucas, you know, as much as I would love some help around here while my grandma is gone, we can’t afford to pay you.”

His answer came back in a heartbeat, looking at you with the most serious expression you’d ever seen from him, “I’ll work here for free.”

You scoffed in shock, not finding it in you to be able to believe him, “What? wha- why would you do that?” you frowned, seeing him shake his head at you, insistent on his proposal.

“I don’t want to work here for the money, I want to work here to help you.”

You felt like all of it was so surreal, even as you outstretched your hand for him jokingly, “well, then you’re hired, Lucas.”

“On one condition, though,” he added quickly before he shook your hand, so it stayed clasped in his, the warmth of his very much bigger hand causing butterflies to flit wildly in your tummy, “call me, Xuxi, it's my actual name, not Lucas.” You smiled, nodding as you shook his hand.

“Sure thing, Xuxi. ” The smile you saw on his face after that was your favourite by far.

===

Before you knew it, seeing Xuxi became a daily thing, you had started to get used to the way he would get flustered when he knocked things over in the kitchen, to the way he did silly dances for you to see from the kitchen when he was wiping up tables and stacking chairs.

The shop had attracted quite a new number of girl students as well, all eager to see Xuxi look charismatic and charming when he was working, but you had to admit you enjoyed seeing the different side of him for yourself when you two were closing up the store or preparing ingredients before it opened.

You absolutely loved how the Xuxi you got to know now was so different from the Lucas you had all thought out in your head. For instance, he would ask for you to teach him how to make the dumpling, then never make it ever again and insist you make it for him, since his ‘didn’t taste the same’. He would walk you home every day, and take you on his bike to school sometimes ( much to Sicheng’s amusement ), as well as drive you to the shop whenever he didn’t have basketball practice.

And with Lucas in the shop, that brought Ten and Sicheng's presence occasionally as well, always teasing you and Xuxi as if you two were a newly married couple that opened up the store, never failing to make Xuxi blush and make you scoff. And you had enjoyed getting to know Ten more, with how he would recommend you new music and lend you his cassette tapes and you would share with each other your reviews on the different artists.

What Sicheng always loved the most from this entire new arrangement was telling you how Xuxi was so excited to work every day that he could, so excited to go to school, a side he’d never seen in Xuxi before, which you would never admit to Sicheng that loved to hear you played a part in.

Out of your own pathetic attempt to keep modest, you would always tell Sicheng to stop making things up, but the boy was just dying to tell you how much Xuxi actually talks about you when he’s with Sicheng and Ten, which of course you didn’t hear because if you did Sicheng would be dead meat.

But you hadn’t known the fact that Xuxi thought you knew this fact all the while, and you only discovered this when you were walking back from the store one night, after he had bought your favourite ice cream for you as a means to celebrate the end of a long day. Enjoying the way everything ( which may or may not include Lucas ) looked and felt warm with the sunset in your line of sight.

“You know, I never would’ve thought you’d be this nice,” you murmured around a mouthful of ice cream.

You heard a gasp on his end, feigning hurt as he placed a large hand against his heart, “I’m hurt,” he laughed.

“For real! I always got scared when I saw you rejecting those girls who would write you love letters and buy you buns from the bakery in school.”

He made a face at that, licking his ice cream before replying you, “That’s because I was never interested, and I figured might as well let them know straight up instead of lead them on.”

“Why not? Some of them were actually really nice, you know?” you wondered out loud, licking a particularly substantial amount of ice cream at one go that it made the roof of your mouth sting, your features scrunching up in a grimace.

He shrugged simply, glancing down at you and smiling at the expression you made from the ice cream, “guess I wasn’t paying too much attention to them.”

“Yeah, cause you were too busy paying attention to my grandma?” you joked, searching his expression for a reaction only for him to remain unfazed.

“Maybe ‘cause she had such a pretty granddaughter,” he said nonchalantly, making you choke on your ice cream, stumbling slightly only for him to reach a hand out to steady you.

“Careful what you say, Xuxi, people might start rumours you like me,” you joked, trying to calm yourself down both from choking and from his words that caused you to choke, turning to frown at him when you heard no answer. Looking at him with your eyebrows raised expectantly, he made no move to act as though you were saying anything he objected to, simply shrugging at you.

"Not something entirely possible if you think about it," he told you, finishing up his ice cream. "I win!" he cheered, pointing at your still half-eaten ice cream, making you roll your eyes with a laugh.

"Doesn't count, I didn't know we were competing," you shoved him playfully, laughter bubbling out of your lips uncontrollably at the way he stumbled back dramatically, using his bike to hold him up.

You were interrupted by his phone ringing, and his expression changed the moment he saw who was calling. “I have to go, I’ll be seeing you soon, then?”

You frowned. “Not tomorrow?” he shook his head,

“I’m pretty packed this week with basketball finals, you can uh...come for my game if you want.” you nodded, bidding him goodnight.

“Goodnight, Y/N,” you chuckled at how cheesy the scene was, feeling once again like this was a scene you would see in those dramas you would watch with Sicheng on his tv, waving him off as he laughed cutely, cycling off home, leaving you smiling like an idiot to yourself.

===

Lucas returned to his house, only to see his mother exactly how he had a feeling he would find her--in the living room with an almost empty bottle of wine next to her, her glass perched dangerously at the edge of the coffee table she was sitting next to, crying into the empty glass, not even bothering to look up when she heard Lucas enter the house.

She sobbed, grabbing the sleeves of Lucas' shirt when he had crouched down in front of her, the impact causing his bag strap to slide nearer to his neck uncomfortably. His mother had hiccupped, her breathing erratic from how hard she was crying, letting her head slump on his shoulder. The sight being nothing new to Lucas, he carefully nudged the wine glass nearer to the centre of the table, slowly peeling her hands from his sleeves.

"Ma. Hey, listen to me, you need to stop thinking he's still coming back," he looked resolutely into her eyes that resembled his so much, except hers were so filled with pain, whereas Lucas' were just filled with pity at how his father had managed to leave his mother in such a state once again- without even having to be physically there to cause it.

Lucas hadn't seen his father in months, the only sign of his existence being that he would send money to his family at the start of each month, and the action would always leave his mother at a loss, since he knew he spent each month hoping that the start of the next month would be greeted with his person instead of just his money.

"You don't understand, Lucas. He told me he was coming back," she cried, hot tears streaming down her face quickly, making anger bubble in Lucas, spilling out before he could control it.

"Yeah, when? That was months ago," he told her, making her frown at him.

"Don't say that. He loves me, he wouldn't do this to me."

"Don't say what, ma? I'm telling you the truth! He's left and he doesn't plan on coming back anytime soon, it’s not like he’s contacted you ever since he left," he told her, his voice raising in an attempt to get his words in her head more.

"Don't raise your voice at me!" she stood up, abruptly, albeit a little unstable, judging from how she leaned on the armrest of the sofa for support.

"You can't keep waiting for him, you know. You're going to reach your limit at one point," he told her, desperately wanting to get through to her and put an end to both their suffering.

"You," she pointed a finger at him condescendingly at him, prodding at his chest roughly, "don't get to decide my limits for me. I need him to come back, he's all I have." Lucas’ mouth shut at that, he knew his mother’s first priority was his father, but she had never said anything like this to Lucas before. And now that he had heard it, it hurt him more than anything.

"So I’m just nothing, then? Just someone to clean up your shit every time you get drunk and you act like a goddamned child?" Lucas was blinded by his hurt now, his words escaping him faster than he could process them, "please, if he loved you so much he wouldn't have left in the first place."

Lucas's mother was absolutely furious, not knowing how to retaliate, so she did what she always did. Looking for the nearest moveable object near her, which just so happened to be the empty wine bottle, she hurled it towards her son, Lucas having to bring his arms up to try and block it as she looked for more things to throw at him, seemingly directing her anger towards her husband to her only son.

"Ma, stop it!" Lucas' shouts went unnoticed, his mother picking up a pillow to hurl it at him roughly, his mother chucking the wine glass at Lucas, which had happened to shatter on the wall where he was standing next to, the glass pieces shattering and nicking Lucas on the face slightly. Only upon the sight of blood on her son’s face did Lucas’ mother realize what she had done, already feeling absolutely horrible about it.

Her grip on the item she was holding loosened, letting it fall with a soft thump onto the cushion of the sofa. Lucas’ eyes widened, his hand coming up to touch his cheek and wince at the sight of the red on his fingers when he pulled his hand away from his face.

“Honey-” Lucas held a hand up, flinching slightly when his mother tried to take a step towards him, taking steps away from her as he felt himself shaking from sheer anger and hurt.

He didn’t want to fight with her, that was the last thing he wanted, yet it seemed to be the only thing he got nowadays.

Shrugging his bag onto his shoulder, he left the house as quickly as he could, not bothering to close the door gently in his hurry to leave. He made his way to Ten’s house, who simply greeted him with a sad smile and let him in, no questions asked, when he saw Lucas at his doorstep, face cut and chest heaving from the angry tears he was shedding.

===

You weren’t surprised when you hadn’t seen Lucas show up to school the next day, not daring to ask any questions when Sicheng showed up at your doorstep to send you to school with a very tired-looking Ten.

You had no means of contacting Lucas, only hoping that he would decide to come to the noodle shop or even to basketball practice so you could talk to him, but even that didn’t happen.

Sicheng noticed the slight dulling of your mood after a few days had passed and Lucas still hadn’t shown up to school, trying to make you feel better by telling you he was okay.

“That’s not the point, Sicheng, I want to actually see for myself that he’s okay. I thought he was actually getting back on track, you know?” Sicheng nodded, understanding where you were coming from but not knowing how to comfort you.

Ten had told him prior to that day that Lucas absolutely refused to talk about what had happened, choosing to simply coop himself up in Ten’s guest room all day, only ever coming out to eat and even then it didn’t look like he was enjoying himself very much. Which of course was an abnormality in Lucas’ case.

What Ten wasn’t aware of was that when Lucas had returned to the house the day after the incident, he’d found a note his mother left for him, saying she was going to look for his father, and that she wouldn’t come back unless she was coming back with him. The last sentence of the letter not even a small ‘I love you’ but instead a reassurance that she would send him allowance every month.

Lucas figured he needed time to cool off and figure out what he was going to do now before he could even go back to see you- despite desperately wanting to do so. But he didn’t want to see you like this, not when he was preoccupied with all his thoughts you knew nothing about.

“I know,” Sicheng murmured, turning to you with a tight-lipped expression. “Just give him some time, he’ll be back in time for the game, then you can have a proper talk with him or whatever,” Sicheng sighed, standing up and offering you a hand to help you up.

“How about some ice cream?”

===

The day of the sports meet had arrived, the basketball nationals being the highlight of the day, and almost your entire school had gathered at the spectator stands to watch the game. With Sicheng next to you, you saw the home team arriving in the court, a small part of you relieved when you saw Xuxi on the court, next to Ten, looking perfectly fine and happy.

So you went through the game doing whatever you figured a supporter should do, raise your giant banner with Sicheng and cheer for your school’s team, especially when Xuxi or Ten would make a particularly impressive pass or score.

Thankfully, they had won, so you figured their spirits were still high by the time they finished their team debrief and were dismissed. You were standing outside the room waiting for Xuxi and Ten with Sicheng. You looked up expectantly when you heard the double doors of the school entrance open, only to huff in disappointment when you realized it was just another one of Xuxi’s teammates, Kun.

You kicked at the ground absentmindedly before you felt Sicheng start to nudge you, his nudging growing more rapid as the seconds passed, making you look up at him with an annoyed expression.

“What?” you asked, seeing his face scrunch up, trying his best to gesture to your opposite direction with his eyes without making it to obvious.

“Hey,” you turned to the direction of the voice only to see that it was Kun, looking at you with a soft smile, his hand gripping the strap of the duffel bag he had slung across his chest. Sicheng looked away so his staring wouldn’t make Kun uncomfortable, though he was intently listening to your conversation with Kun.

“Y/N, right?” you nodded. “Uh...I wanted to thank you for coming to the game,” he smiled sweetly at you, his voice matching his expression.

You shook your head in dismissal, “Oh, it’s nothing, really. I mean, Ten and Xu- I mean Lucas, are my friends too so I just, you know…thought I should support them.” You saw him nod in understanding, glancing up at you again, looking almost nervous.

“I was actually wondering if you would like to go watch a movie with me one of these days? It’ll be my treat, I kind of want to get to know you better....I mean, you don’t have to say yes but it’d be nice...if you did.”

Sicheng let out a small snort, making you kick his leg firmly, all the while still smiling at Kun.

I mean, it wasn’t as if you didn’t like the idea of a date with Kun, you just...would prefer if it was a date with Xuxi, to put things simply.

“Would you let me have some time to think about it? Can I let you know by like…next week?” you asked, seeing him nod at you, that same sweet smile appearing on his face.

“Of course, no problem, have a goodnight,” he smiled at you, Sicheng taking that as his queue to turn back around and exchanged a nod with Kun as a goodbye, practically bursting into laughter when Kun was out of sight.

“Poor Kun, doesn’t know he’s gonna be waiting the whole weekend for a rejection,” he snickered, making you roll your eyes, shoving him as you saw the double doors open again and Ten and Lucas walk out, laughing about something while looking for you and Sicheng in the area.

“Okay, shut up, no more talk about this or Ten will mock both Kun and me,” you shoved him, your glare softening and a small smile appearing on your face when you saw Xuxi.

He smiled widely, waving at you and Sicheng, the both of you making your way over to them and walking out of the school grounds together.

You walked in pairs, Ten and Sicheng walking in front on purpose so you and Xuxi would have to walk next to each other.

“You played really well, today,” you told him as a passing comment, seeing him let out a shy laugh, muttering a small ‘thank you’ to you.

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” he asked you, you shook your head in reply.

“Not yet, I was kind of just feeling like some ice cream.”

His smile brightened at that, nodding at you eagerly, “Me too!”

He bent down, half leaning towards you to whisper, “should we ditch them?” he used a finger to gesture to the pair walking in front of you, watching you give him a hesitant look.

He shot you a pleading look, his eyes closed and his palms together in front of him, rubbing them together in a begging action, making you smack him on the shoulder, covering your mouth in a poor attempt to stifle your laugh.

Ten and Sicheng already having anticipated your next sentence with all the giggling they were hearing behind them.

“Hey, uh guys, me and Y/N are gonna detour and get some ice cream. Catch you guys next week?”

Not without shooting each other a knowing look, Ten and Sicheng pretended to be upset before waving the both of you off quickly, wanting this to happen more than anybody.

You walked with Xuxi in the silence to the small convenience stand, Xuxi paying for the ice cream, and you ripped open the packet quickly, walking with him back in the direction of your neighbourhood.

“Thanks for paying for the ice cream,” you said, a little belatedly, making him huff in amusement, using his free hand to ruffle your hair in reply, the action making you blush unexpectedly.

Xuxi started to walk towards the direction of the small playground you were nearing, the both of you silently taking a seat on either of the two swings, Xuxi ditching his bag on the ground to sit comfortably.

“Are you okay?” you asked, chewing on the small bit of your ice cream you’d bitten off by accident, “you were gone for really long.”

Xuxi scoffed teasingly, “I was gone for like 5 days.”

“Well it was long for me, okay,” you huffed, “It was weird...going from seeing you every day to not seeing you suddenly.”

Xuxi bit his lip, licking the ice cream that had gotten on his lips as he turned his head to glance at you, his legs pushing the ground gently to swing himself lightly.

“My mom left,” he murmured. Abruptly raising his hand for his palm to face you, “And before you start feeling stressed ‘cause you don’t know what to say and all that, I’m alright if you don’t know what to say. I mean, neither did I, I spent 4 days not knowing what to even feel about it.”

You ate your ice cream quietly as he spoke, processing what Xuxi was trying to tell you. A small part of you understanding a little bit of how lonely he may have felt since you had found yourself in a somewhat similar situation when you were young.

“She told me she wasn’t coming back until my dad comes back with her, so...I took that as a ‘I’m not coming back at all’,” he used his fingers to make air quotes, shrugging afterward as he took a bite from his popsicle, “but I’ll live, I guess....I have to.”

“That’s really strong of you, Xuxi,” you murmured, seeing him turn to you, expression blank before he smiled softly.

“I have you by my side, so I’ll make it through this no matter what,” he grinned, turning his attention back to his ice cream.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you joked, suddenly thinking of Kun’s proposal just now after the basketball game, debating on whether to tell Xuxi but something inside you ( that strangely sounded like Sicheng ) was telling you to just do it.

“Kunaskedmeout,” you blurted, seeing him turn to you with a raised eyebrow, a small hum of confusion leaving his lips.

“Kun, he...asked if I wanted to go watch a movie with him when I was waiting for you and Ten to come out just now,” you told him, gauging his expression carefully as you told him, “I mean, at first I was kind of hesitant because I was kind of worried about how I would pay for the movie ticket but then he said he was paying and all so...I guess it’s not so bad?”

Tell me not to go. Your eyes pleaded, watching intently at the way he took his time to nibble on the last bits of his ice cream, holding up a hand as if telling you to wait as he stood up from the swing, taking your empty ice cream wrapper to dispose of them together, returning to you with a serious expression on his face. Stopping in front of where you were sitting, he leaned down so his head was level with yours, eyes narrowing at you, before straightening up.

“Don’t go.” he told you casually, sitting back down on the swing.

Your mouth gaped, unsure of what to make of his reaction. You looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, pursing your lips before speaking.

“You don’t think I should go?”

He looked at you with a blank expression, shrugging nonchalantly, “you shouldn’t go if you don’t want to,” he reminded you, his shoes scuffing on the ground as he rocked the swing back and forth.

“What makes you think I don’t want to?” you narrowed your eyes at him.

He shrugged, “maybe the way you told me about it? But of course, I could just be assuming, so go, have fun with Kun if that’ll make you happy,” he laughed, making you frown at him.

“But...” you started, though there was no other way to say this other than to admit you wanted Lucas to tell you not to go.

Lucas stopped swinging, looking at you expectantly, with a small glint of mischief in his eyes and a smirk playing at his lips.

“But? Is there a problem with what I just said?”

“Yes, a very big problem,” you told him, a small pout playing at your lips.

“Why is that?” He prodded you some more, to the point where you threw away your anxiousness, exasperatedly admitting to the tall boy,

“The problem is that I don’t wanna go ‘have fun’ with Kun because I like you!” you blurted.

He looked at you, pressing his lips together, before his eyes crinkled into crescents as he smiled.

As if nothing had happened, Lucas stood up, dusting off the imaginary dust from his track pants, slinging his bag on his shoulder, using his hand to shield the non-existent sun from his eyes as he looked up at the sky, “It’s getting late, let’s get you home.”

It was an understatement to say you were upset as Lucas walked you home. You felt so humiliated, that he would have the audacity to ignore the fact that you’d just confessed how you felt towards him, making you huff in annoyance when you realized you had reached your doorstep.

Not looking at him, you glared at his chest, being the only thing at your eye level, about to say goodbye when you felt him pull you into a hug. Not just any kind of lazy armed, lean-in goodbye hug, but an actual, warm, comforting hug, a hug of greeting instead of parting.

He let his head rest on top of yours gently, and you heard his laugh vibrate in his chest slightly, as his hand went up to pat the back of your head gently.

“I’m glad,” he told you.

You frowned, pulling away to see him look down at you, his hair flopping over his eyes only slightly as he gave you what you had deemed as your favourite smile of his, where his eyes would shut tightly and his mouth form the cutest grin you had ever seen.

And for the third time, you’d felt transported into one of the romantic dramas, you could practically hear Sicheng saying matter-of-factly, ‘he’s totally gonna confess’, which you would always reply with a shush, wanting to savour the moment.

Opening his eyes, Lucas reached one of his hands reached down to hold your hand, “because I like you too.”

It was as if you had become hyper-aware of your surroundings, the way your heart was beating at a steady pace for once, and how gently Lucas was holding your hand, to the way the moonlight was so bright today, being the perfect backdrop for this moment you wanted to capture in your head and remember forever.

Letting go of your hand after a while, it was as if things were moving in slow motion when Lucas leaned over to plant a shy kiss on your cheek, pulling away and covering the lower half of his face with his hand, hiding his blush from you.

This time, you smiled at him first, “Goodnight, Xuxi.”

He had to look away to compose himself since he was smiling so widely, turning back to you and nodding at you, waving his hand as he’d started taking slow steps back, desperate to run home so he could giggle and be shy about this in the privacy of his room.

“Goodnight, Y/N.”

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m34gs · 4 years ago

Text

A Little Brick House

Based on prompt 29: Brick House, from the March Prompt List posted by @creativepromptsforwriting. (Link to prompt post here)

Blue Exorcist fanfic beneath the cut

Izumo and Shiemi, non-exorcist au.

Izumo couldn't tell you how long that brick house had been there. But she noticed it every day on the walk to school. It was old, with broken windows and no door. She'd looked at it many times, angling her head and raising herself on tip-toes to try and get a look inside, childhood curiousity overcoming her sense of what is socially acceptable. But regardless of the missing doors and the broken windows, she could never really see what was inside.

Izumo was thirteen years old when she first saw her; a pretty little blonde girl with large sparkling eyes. She looked to be about the same age as Izumo, maybe a little older. And she was walking in and out of the little brick house, as calmly as a child would in their own home, carrying bundles of something wrapped in her little apron. Izumo was so transfixed that she stopped walking to stare. Her friend, Paku, kept walking, babbling on about their homework, but her words were nothing more than a buzzing background noise to Izumo. The girl was kneeling now, among the tall grass of the old ugly lot.

The more Izumo watched her, the more everything else seemed to fade away to the background. The sunlight was warm and hazy, as if a filter had been placed in front of her eyes. A high pitched ringing sound rang in her ears, growing louder and louder. And then the girl looked up. Her startling green eyes met Izumo's sharp maroon ones and Izumo couldn't look away. It was odd. Like there was something...not quite right about this other girl.

Just as suddenly as their eyes had met, the weird feeling was shattered. "Izumo! What are you doing? We'll be late for school," Paku called. Izumo blinked and turned to her friend, startled to realize she was several meters ahead of her.

"Ah!" Izumo turned back to the old lot, but though the brick house and everything else was still there, the young blonde girl was gone. She shook her head and trotted to catch up to her friend. "No, nothing, I'm sorry. I must have spaced out. Let's keep going," she apologized.

***

It was weeks before Izumo caught another glimpse of the girl. This time, she was walking alone, as Paku had gone to school earlier to help with an upcoming partner project. Izumo wished she could be so lucky. The boys she was paired with were both highly annoying and lazy in her opinion. They were lucky if they made it to school on time, there was no way she could get them to be there early.

It was out of habit that she looked at the run-down brick house in the little lot. She never admitted to herself that she was looking for the other girl again, but she couldn't deny the surge of satisfaction she felt at seeing her again. Izumo looked at the little watch Paku had given her as a birthday present. She had time. With a deep breath to steady her nerves, Izumo stopped on the sidewalk and faced the house. The blonde had yet to notice her. Izumo frowned and chewed her bottom lip. Her heart pounded in her chest and her palms were clammy as she gripped the strap of her bookbag.

"H-hey!" she stammered, quietly at first. The girl didn't look up, didn't even blink. Izumo frowned. "HEY!" she shouted this time. The blonde girl looked up with wide eyes.

"A-a-are you talking...to me?" she asked hesitantly, her voice high pitched and soft. For some reason, the hesitancy in her tone grated on Izumo's nerves. She frowned and crossed her arms, feeling her confidence come back.

"Do you see anyone else around for me to talk to?" she snapped. Why am I the weird one in this situation? Why does she look scared of me? She's the strange person in that house, should she even be there? Izumo wondered. "That's private property, you know. You can't play games there."

The girl blinked. "O-oh. Um. I know. I live here."

Izumo narrowed her eyes. What? She has to be making fun of me. There's no way she can live there, the girl concluded. "No you don't," Izumo protested. The girl tilted her head, looking more at ease than she had a moment ago.

"I do," she answered with a small smile. "Would you like to come and see?"

Izumo almost took her up on the offer, if only to laugh at the girl when Izumo was inevitably proven right. But the barking of a nearby dog grounded her back in reality and she glanced at her watch. "I...I don't have time for that right now! I'm going to be late for school," Izumo replied, feeling as though she was making excuses. "A-and you should be going to school, too!" She jabbed a finger at the other girl. The blonde girl just gave a small, timid smile. And that timid smile only annoyed Izumo further. She huffed and turned on her heel to continue walking. Her ears burned red, even though she told herself she wasn't the one who should be embarrassed, she wasn't the one claiming to live in an old run-down house as if it was something to be proud of.

The girl was not there on her walk home.

***

It was two years before Izumo caught a glimpse of the girl again. She was walking with Paku again, on the way home from school this time. She'd looked at the house again and again on their way to and from school over the past two years, so much so that glancing at it now became a habit. Over time, the feeling of disappointment she got when she didn't see the girl there had lessened. Which was why now, when she caught a glimpse of blonde hair through one of the broken windows, she stopped to do a double-take. Sure enough, it was her. She had the same blonde hair, same bright eyes. Her expression was less pensive and more relaxed, but it was her.

Paku stopped walking with her, and glanced between her and the house. "Izumo? What are you staring at?"

Izumo blinked...and the girl was gone. She frowned slightly and shook her head. "U-um. It was nothing. I thought I saw...someone in that house. But it must have been a trick of the light," she answered as she continued walking. Paku tilted her head.

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense. I've had that happen before too, where the light makes it look like someone is in the window or something," she agreed with an easy smile. She fell back into an easy chatter next to Izumo. Izumo did her best to pay attention, but her mind couldn't help but wander back to the conversation she'd had with the blonde two years ago.

Did that even happen? she wondered. A quick look snuck over her shoulder revealed the blonde girl now standing in the front of the lot. The blonde met her eyes and smiled, raising her hand in a tentative wave. Izumo blinked and her eyes widened before she quickly turned away.

***

Months flew by. Izumo had sighted the blonde girl a few more times. The other girl would smile and wave, but Izumo never responded. Truthfully, most of the time it was because she was with Paku, and she was nervous that maybe this girl wasn't one-hundred percent real. After all, Paku never mentioned her. And wouldn't Paku mention someone who acted so oddly and appeared to be living in an old run-down house?

So she pretended the blonde girl she saw didn't exist. And she pretended she didn't feel a pang of guilt each time she turned away, just barely catching the flash of disappointment on the other girl's face. Izumo would turn away and keep walking.

***

Izumo muttered to herself as she jogged through the rain on her way home, book bag held over her head. "Of course I forgot my umbrella," she reprimanded herself. "Of course." Water splashed up against her stockings as she ran through a puddle and Izumo cringed at the feeling of the wet cloth on her skin.

Even in her haste to get home, Izumo couldn't stop herself from looking over at the old brick house. What she saw made her stop dead in her tracks.

The blonde girl was out in the rain, kneeling in the grass, with no raincoat, no umbrella, barefoot, in a long skirt and light blouse. Absently, Izumo's brain wondered at the girl's sanity, but that thought was soon pushed aside by the fact that the girl was not wet. She didn't have a drop of water on her, though she sat so blatantly in the rain. Izumo blinked, almost certain her eyes were playing a trick on her. She squinted at the girl and stepped forward, her arms going lax at her sides. Her bookbag slipped out of her hand and landed with a wet plop on the sidewalk. Izumo jumped slightly and looked down at the bag. When she looked back up, the girl's eyes were on her. Her head was tilted and her lips parted slightly, a small crinkle in her brow, as if she was confused by what she saw. She blinked a few times, and then looked upward, as if only now becoming aware that it was raining. Izumo flushed, embarrassed she had drawn the girl's attention by dropping her bag in the rain. She bent down and picked it up, wincing at the cold wet cloth and the realization that her homework and books were likely soaked now.

When she stood up again, the blonde girl was right in front of her. Izumo jumped back a step. "Wh-what are you doing?" she demanded. The girl just grabbed Izumo's hand.

"Come on, you're soaked," she answered, and she turned around and dragged Izumo behind her toward the brick house. Her hand was as cold as the rain water and Izumo almost shivered.

Izumo really didn't see what going into the abandoned house would do in terms of helping her dry off, but she didn't argue. She was too shocked to string two words together. Where did this sudden bravery come from? This girl always looks so shy, she pondered.

She didn't realize the rain was no longer coming down until they were inside the house. Izumo looked around herself, and just about stumbled out of the house. It looked totally different inside. There was a table, chairs, a rug on the floor, a short hallway leading to the back, and a fire in the fireplace. Izumo frowned at the fire, trying to remember if there had been smoke coming from the chimney, but she didn't have too long to ponder it, as the other girl had let go of her arm and was now fussing about a tea pot on the stove. Izumo watched her for a moment, before she remembered she was soaking wet and dripping water on her host's floor. In a panic, she looked down and started to apologize, only to realize that, although the water dripped off of her, none of it was making the floor wet. It just seemed to...disappear.

Izumo blinked and looked around, a dizzy feeling coming over her. Her eyes caught sight of the window and she stumbled backward, falling onto her bottom. The windows were fully intact, showing a vibrant scene of a warm day with a beautiful yard and a small garden full of various herbs and vegetables.

"I...I...what?" Izumo stammered weakly, drawing the attention of her host. She turned back to face the doorway. It was still empty of any door and she could see the rain falling down outside. Izumo kept looking between the window and the door, whipping her head back and forth so fast she almost got whiplash. A feeling of unease rose steadily inside of her and nausea washed over her. "What is going on?"

"Oh," the other girl spoke. "I'm so sorry. I didn't realize how disorienting this could be." Her voice was soft and gentle, and she offered a hand to Izumo. Izumo stared at the hand in front of her before taking it. The other girl helped her to her feet. "Come here. Have some tea. It will help you feel better, I promise. And you can stay here until you're warm and dry." The girl guided Izumo to the table and helped her sit. Izumo was still too stunned to say anything. The girl continued to bustle about the kitchen now, talking as she fixed up some tea and gathered some cookies on a plate. "My name is Shiemi. I've lived here for some time," she stated. Izumo just nodded, still lost for words. She listened as Shiemi talked about her garden and how much she loved it, and how her mother had raised her in this house until she regrettably passed away. Izumo only spoke then to offer her condolences. Shiemi gave her a soft smile.

Izumo really couldn't find her voice, or the nerve to ask questions at all. She just drank her tea and ate the cookies in silence as Shiemi spoke enthusiastically. She did notice that her clothes had dried, and that she felt much warmer. Also much sleepier.

After Izumo's fourth or fifth head bob where she fought against sleep, Shiemi exclaimed "Oh, I'm sorry. You must think I'm terribly rude! You're so tired. Come, you can stay in my spare room." She ushered Izumo up and led her out of the kitchen and down a short hallway to a small bedroom. Izumo was too tired to protest. Her limbs felt heavy, and her vision was a little blurred with exhaustion. She curled up easily on the little mattress, and Shiemi draped a blanket over her. As she left the room, Shiemi spoke over her shoulder softly. "Thank you, you've given me everything I needed." Then she closed the door. Izumo couldn't ponder over her words too long before she fell into a deep, dreamless sleep.

***

Izumo woke with a shiver. she frowned and reached for the blanket, but she couldn't find it. There was something hard digging into her back and something gritty under her cheek. Blinking blearily, Izumo propped herself up and looked around. She was in a dimly lit room, with no furniture. The only source of light was the light of the rising sun that filtered in through a filth-covered window. She was laying on the floor, which was covered in dirt and dust. With a cry of disgust, Izumo leapt up and brushed herself off frantically. She looked around, trying to recall what happened the night before. She vaguely remembered a nice house, and there being rain, and that blonde girl...Izumo's brain latched onto that thought. The girl! Shiemi! I'll ask her!

Izumo opened the door and burst into the hallway...which was just as dirty and barren as the other room. A nauseous feeling crept up in her gut. She swallowed and peered into each of the rooms, one by one. There was no evidence of the house having been inhabited. When she reached the front of the house, she recognized her bookbag on the floor, next to the doorway. But there was no other furniture. The windows were broken and grimy. The fireplace was empty and looked as though it had been unused for a very long time.

With shaking hands, Izumo picked up her school bag. She looked down at her uniform. It was full of dirt and dust. Wincing, Izumo peeked outside. The sun was just barely rising. She glanced at her watch. There was lots of time for her to get home before she would have to get ready for school. Izumo dug into her bag to grab her phone and checked it. Five missed calls. From mother.

Crap, Izumo thought. She looked at the time. Well, better get it over with. She dialed her mother's number and waited for the anxious outburst to begin. Izumo forced all thoughts of Shiemi from her mind as she frantically apologized and tried to soothe her mother's worries on the walk home. She ended up not going to school that day, her mother too anxious to let her leave home after being out all night.

***

Izumo never saw the blonde girl again. She looked. Every day, she looked at the house as she passed it on her way to and from school. And on her days off, she found every reason she could to walk by it. But she never again saw the shine of blonde hair or the sparkle of Shiemi's green eyes.

A few times she went inside the house, alone. But it was the same as it had been when she woke up inside it; a little brick house, abandoned and covered in dirt and dust.

#blue exorcist #ao no exorcist #shiemi #izumo kamiki #au #non-exorcist au #prompt #march prompt #brick house #fic #fanfic

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