#i always post little things on here that I never really put elsewhere until later so u guys get special treatment

[eggsdrawings]

hi to everyone new again. i have krbk sketches that i am cleaning up to post how are u all

[issaxcharlie]

Falling like the stars✨

Pairing: Alive! Luke Patterson x Fem Reader

Summary: Luke and Y/N never got to be a thing. Whatever they had ended abruptly when she settled on someone with far more status than the aspiring guitarist. Months later, now single, Luke entangles her in a scheme to make Sunset Curve more popular. The only thing she needs to do is fake date him for 2 weeks.

Songs used: Holy Ground by Taylor Swift, Loved You First by One Direction and Falling Like The Stars by James Arthur.

High school is a world by itself. It has its own system and everyone moves through it. It is something that although it is not discussed, everyone knows. Including the three members of Sunset Curve, who are lying in the yard trying to find a solution to their latest problem.

"We need more people to support our music. If we can't get this little school to support us, how are we going to fill clubs or sign with a label?” Reggie wonders aloud to himself, no matter how hard they try, they can't get the Los Feliz student body to listen to their band.

“We should have thought about it before, Reg. Now we're just the problem kids who most likely won't finish school. Why would they come to see us at those seedy little clubs when they can go show off at football games.” Luke stands up suddenly after Alex words, one of those huge smiles that comes out when he has a really bad idea on his face.

“Well it seems that the solution is easy, boys. We have to make them see us on the same level as those jocks.”

“Oh yeah, and how are we going to do that, genius?” Alex fiddles with his hands as he rests his head on Reggie, both tired of not being able to come even close to fulfilling their dream.

Luke points to the nearest post, on which there are at least 5 posters to support the homecoming king and queen.

“Really? Do you think someone would vote for you? Before all those star athletes who also have a cheerleader to back them up? You basically have just us and I don't think I can do one of those tricks.”

“We’ll think of something. Winning that stupid thing would put us directly in the top of the pyramid. We’ll find a way, we always do.” Before anyone can respond, some screaming and commotion can be heard.

“Savannah is accusing Y/N to mess with her man! Run, they are in the hall!" students mention as they start running to watch the discussion.

“Oh god, Y/N. I’ll better go and see if I can help her somehow.” Alex gets up and Reggie begins to follow him, but not before turning to make sure Luke is following too. The guitarist makes an irritated face but ends up walking behind his friends.

From the moment they enter the main hall they can hear the screeches of probably the most popular girl in school, Savannah Miller. One of those typical unbearable girls who for some reason always reach the top of the elite in schools despite treating everyone badly.

Y/N Y/L is on the other side of the discussion, she looks calm and even bored. The first thing Luke digests from Savannah's words is that she thinks Y/N was making out with her idiot of a boyfriend during third period. What's interesting about the situation is that Diego cheated on Y/N with Savannah maybe a week and a half ago and had been dating her ever since.

But that's not Y/N's style, no matter how angry she is.

Luke knows her well enough, or so he wants to believe. She was always good friends with Alex and Reggie, and her relationship with them remained strong over the years despite how unstable and fleeting her relationship with the guitarist was.

He's never going to admit how deeply he felt for her. How much it screwed him up that just when he finally began to believe they could be something else, she completely walked away from his life so she could date the man that would end up cheating on her just because he looked more promising at the time. Rich, popular, the quarterback of the football team, the ‘perfect guy’ she said to the boys.

But hey, that's past.

Luke looks up to meet Y/N's eyes on him. In the moment she realizes she was caught, she sneakily turns to Alex, who is just inches from the guitarist and smiles at him.

“Are you actually smiling? You think this is funny?” The girl looks furious, but she's smart enough not to make this a battle of strength.

“I already told you, Savannah. It wasn’t me.”

“I can count, Y/N. Neither you nor Diego were in class."

And that’s when it hits him. The possibility of getting to the top of the pyramid in front of him. Because maybe Y/N is not the most popular, but it is undoubtedly one of the most loved by everyone. Intelligent, caring, beautiful, talented. And she certainly has the status after dating Diego Hernandez for one semester. No one had managed more than 3 months with him and the guitarist thinks that was a good sign that that idiot is not a good idea but well, it wasn’t his choice.

Luke begins to walk towards the center of the circle, Alex tries to stop him but cannot catch his arm in time. Both girls turn to see him surprised, but neither says anything.

"You can go find culprits elsewhere, Y/N was busy with me at the time. You can ask whoever you want and they'll tell you that I wasn't in class during third period either."

Of course, he wasn't there because the trio got into Reggie's old truck to get some hotdogs but no one has to know that.

His hand goes to take her firmly by the hip, just like all those nights that now only remain as memories. He is looking at every inch of her face, searching for her reaction, and is surprised by the naturalness with which the girl accepts the gesture. As if his hand belongs there. And maybe, just maybe, it does.

“Do you really want me to believe this?” Savannah asks, clearly annoyed.

“Y/N and Patterson? There’s just no way in hell. C’mon babe, he’s just pathetic, you could do better.” Diego says out loud as he approaches the scene in the middle of Y/N and Savannah.

There's something about the disgruntled way they both said it that makes Luke want to prove that a girl like her could want him. He doesn’t know how to distinguish if it is pride or insecurity but at the moment he is not interested.

He's barely going to open his mouth to defend himself when Y/N starts talking. "No. You can speak as badly as you want of me but you're not going to bring Luke into this."

Luke lets go of her so he can step back a few inches and see her from a better angle. She’s definitely not calm anymore. Her face looks altered and she is undoubtedly in protective mode. She turns to see him when she feels his hand leave her body but he offers her his hand and she intertwines it between her fingers without hesitation. At this rate she is taking control of the situation so he is going to let her continue and try to achieve his goal along the way.

“I know you need a partner to have any hope of winning the crown, but choosing Patterson is a desperate move.”

And that’s his cue. "If my baby wants that crown I will get it for her. It's that easy.”

“What? I do-” At that moment Luke panics and pulls her by the hand that they have intertwined and with the other holds her face while bringing their lips together. When he reacts to what he is doing he is afraid that Y/N will push him in front of everyone but to his surprise she kisses him back instantly, releasing his hand to bring him closer to the neck.

The kiss is passionate and almost desperate, but it only lasts a few seconds since a voice brings them back.

"This feels like deja vu." Reggie whispers to Alex, they both walked during the discussion towards the circle and are so close that Luke and Y/N heard him clearly.

“Well, we already clarified that she was not with your boyfriend so, I’ll take my girl. It was a pleasure, we should repeat this another day... said no one ever." Luke takes her hand and leads her to the nearest empty living room, Reggie and Alex locking the door behind him.

“What the hell was that crown bullshit? Why did you even cover for me? What are you up to? At least tell me is fun... or that includes you shirtless.” She jokes, a cheeky smile spreads in Luke’s face.

“I need a favor and thought you’ll appreciate an alibi.” She raises her eyebrow in reflex.

“Why would I help you, Lucas?” Luke can only think of how she makes a name as simple and boring as Lucas sound so sexy when she says it. Is incredible.

“Cut the act, beautiful. We both know you've never been able to resist me.” Y/N laughs amused at the boy’s sassiness. She won't admit it but she missed his eyes on her. She missed the way he uses that cocky stupid voice that melts her when he wants something. How he gets closer with each sentence, or his lips on her mouth.

Before she can counter attack, Alex stands in front of the guitarist raising his hands. “I know he’s an idiot, but we really need your help, Y/N. If we want Sunset Curve to gain popularity we have to start here, and this is our last year. Gaining popularity among the elite of the school would help us a lot.”

“We are getting desparate.” Reggie adds, a sad smile on his face.

“And pretending I made out with Luke in third period and getting to be homecoming dance queen and king helps you... why?”

“That crown is literally a test of popularity and status. It would put Luke on the same level as the popular kids like Savannah and Diego. People would be more interested in Sunset Curve after that. For now, for them we are only three good for nothing that one day will not appear around here again. You heard yourself that those two didn't think Luke was good enough."

Her face flushes with anger as soon as she remembers the contemptuous tone of voice they used to refer to Luke. If they hadn't been in the middle of the hall, she probably would have said a lot more than she did. That single comment is enough to make her decide, so without thinking Y/N asks “What do you need me to do?”

“Just play perfect couple with Luke until homecoming dance. Then you are queen and king, Sunset Curve gets the fans we deserve, you get to laugh at Savannah’s face and you can separate next day if you want to.”

“I’m not sure If someone is going to believe it.” She blurts out loud as she glances at the guitarist.

“Oh please, you know each others mouth better than your own names.” Reggie says without thinking, Luke snorted with laughter and Y/N blushes like crazy.

“Yeah, and you used to spend a lot of time together too, two weeks shouldn’t be that hard.” Alex tries to recover the seriousness of the situation to close the deal.

“Okay then. If I can help Sunset Curve and get that smirk of superiority off Savannah's face then sounds good to me. Are you willing to date me, Patterson?”

Their eyes meet again and without a sign of hesitation her now officially boyfriend for the next two weeks, answers.

“Beautiful, you have no idea.”

There is something about relationships that never get to happen that make the heart weigh more, that nostalgia to be stronger, the person more difficult to forget. Luke can't help but remember during the last periods of the day just how good it felt to taste the girl's lips again. Feelings of desire, of familiarity, of belonging. All colliding and going deep into his bones.

He decided a long time ago he didn't do relationships, but if he did, it would have been with her. He was willing to break that rule for her, but she had the final decision and it wasn't him. He accidentally put himself in the perfect situation though. All those what if’s will finally have an answer.

For two weeks he can test what it would have been if Y/N Y/L had chosen him. And when he finally tries the experience he will be free. Free from all the what if’s, free from her, from her memory. And there's also the part of how much the band will benefit. The main objective of doing this, obviously.

The last hour is finally over and Luke sped off toward Reggie's truck. In front of it is Alex already waiting and he can see Reggie and Y/N also walking in the same direction. The four of them regroup and Y/N starts to discuss game plan.

“If we are going to do this, we are going to do it well. There will be a party at Finch's house this Saturday and the three of you are coming with me."

The three members of Sunset Curve make an annoyed face at the words of their friend. "That's exactly why no one supports you. You think you are too cool to hang out with the people but then you want everyone to happily buy your shirts and listen to your music."

“She has a point there.” Alex agrees, and puts his arm around her shoulder.

“Okay, let’s do this. If you all come with me, we can leave early and crash one of those places you usually play. Maybe even have some people of the party to come with us and hear you rock the shit out of that place.” All three smile with bright eyes In response.

“You got yourself a deal, pretty lady.” Reggie says in a flirting tone and winks at her. Luke gives him a light punch on the arm.

"I'll see you on Saturday in my house then, at nine. Goodbye boys." She winks at Luke and walks over to her car, making sure to do a perfect walk because she knows pretty well that the guitarist isn't going to stop watching her until she pulls out of the parking lot.

Luke gives her a perfect smile one last time before Y/N leaves school. These two weeks are going to be weird.

The four members of the band are in the truck, Bobby decided to get out of school recently but a party and a gig sounds like a rad Saturday. Luke gets out and walks to the door to wait for Y/N to come out. When she finally comes down he feels like all the air is coming out of his lungs.

She's wearing the black Sunset Curve t-shirt that he forgot one of the many times he climbed up to the second floor of the house to see her. A short black skirt and one of his red flannels that he probably left there several months ago as well. Black fishnets stockings which he can't help but imagine ripping out with his teeth, her lips in that tone of red that drives him crazy, and her classic black boots that he hadn't seen since she started dating the cheating idiot.

“Genius huh? Is there anything that says more ‘Luke Patterson’s property’ than this? I don’t think so." She smiles proudly and blushes when she notices Luke's gaze locked on her legs. Fishnets may have been included in the outfit due to a certain weakness that the musician has towards them.

The hair that the guitarist is used to seeing in a perfect bun lately, is now loose and tousled. As rebellious as the day he met her, moving in harmonious tune to the rhythm of Now or Never.

Luke reaches out to to entwine his hand in her hair and whispers slowly into her ear “You look... fucking hell, you are not playing fair, baby.” Lightly biting her lobe when he’s done speaking.

They both linger in a trance for a few seconds, considering whether they should just walk in and lock the door. But before they can decide, the boys that already know this story pretty well and are sick of waiting for them while they flirt, get out of the truck. Reggie carries Y/N like a sack of potatoes and between Bobby and Alex take Luke by the arms, putting them in the vehicle so they can finally get to the lame party and then, the gig.

When they finally arrive, the eyes of almost all the girls go to the members of the band, who are definitely dressed for the occasion. Y/N can't help but notice how most of the cheerleaders wink at her boyfriend. Yeah, it’s not real and will last two weeks, but for now she justs wants to forget that part and enjoy the feeling of him being hers.

So she makes a small, harmless gesture to mark territory and puts her hand in the guitarist's back pocket.

Luke turns to see her, an amused smirk on his face. “Jealousy looks so hot on you, I wouldn't mind if you marked my lips with that red lipstick too."

That statement resonates in Y/N’s head. All the times Diego refused to kiss her so as not to stain himself and even forbade her to use that lipstick that for her was part of her brand returning to her head. Followed quickly by every night Luke came down after finishing playing and instantly attacked her lips with his, caring for nothing more than the feel of their tongues fighting for control.

“Not jealousy, just a quick reminder to everyone. You are all mine tonight.” She puts a little more pressure on the hand in his pocket and stands on her tiptoes to kiss the corner of his lips.

“Dance with me?” She asks innocently while giving him a flirtatious smile.

“With you, always beautiful.” He smiles back, winking charmingly.

His hands find hers and she begins to dance and jump gracefully to the rhythm of the music as he spins her around, both singing the lyrics to each other with unmatched energy, happy to be together.

“Tonight I'm gonna dance, for all that we've been through.” She sings with a determined voice, taking the musician by the hair and bringing their faces closer.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you.” Luke returns the verse with the same passion, just inches separating their lips. His beautiful and trained voice tends to sound like a more country vibe when he gets carried away and especially in more pop melodies like this, and honestly drives her crazy.

The fact that the rocker at heart gave in to listen to other genres for her and even remembered the lyrics was enough to melt her heart. The last time she was able to let herself go and sing at the top of her lungs like this was with him, listening to a mix of their favorite songs in his car while going for their favorite icecream. Whatever they had was a lot more deeper than what they are willing to admit.

“Did we really just see Luke sing and dance to a pop-country song?” Reggie asks the band, Alex and Bobby behind him laughing at the guitarist who blushes and kisses his date's forehead. “I am not going to discuss this. I'll go get us something to drink." He winks at her and dissapears into the crowd.

“I’ll go too, be right back.” Bobby announces leaving Y/N with Alex and Reggie, who smirk at her.

“It seems that pretending is easier than you thought.” Alex can't stop smiling, Reggie playfully itches the girl's ribs who grins from ear to ear.

"Everything always fits when I'm with him. I ruined my chance. I'm totally aware, and I'm not expecting anything from him, because I honestly don't deserve it. But I plan to enjoy every second of these two weeks that came from heaven to the fullest.”

“You should explain hi-” Before Reggie can finish speaking, Diego appears behind Y/N and tries to forcefully pull her by the arm.

The guys manage to react quickly and release her arm while stepping in front of her. But right away his teammates get behind him.

“Save yourselves the pain, she is going with me.” Diego says confidently, his face showing arrogance.

“Guys, ple-” She tries to stop them from getting hurt, but both step a little forward, determined to protect her no matter the cost.

“You are not taking her, Diego. But you are more than welcome to try.” Alex's voice sounds cool and calm, but Y/N can see how much his hands are shaking and her heart hurts at the sight.

They are all so into their own business that nobody notices the guitarist's return until his lips collide with his girl, who is surprised for a few seconds but immediately recognizes him and gives him space for his tongue to taste her mouth.

They both lose themselves in the kiss for a few seconds longer than necessary and then slowly separate. Y/N grinning from ear to ear as she tries to wipe some of her lipstick off Luke's mouth. He just smirks, as happy as ever.

"Sorry guys, do you need something?" He plays the innocent card. After that kiss, most of the people at the party are watching the scene, so Diego, who looks furious, chooses to leave without saying anything. Right away they can hear a long restrained breath from Reggie and Alex.

“You are a cocky genius, I'm not sure we could have won that one.”

“I’m not sure? Did you seriously think we had a chance?” Alex asks, clearly anxious after what had just happened.

Y/N stands in front of them and throws herself into their arms, whispering how many thanks she can say in a row. They return the hug and begin to relax in each others arms. Bobby and Luke join in the hug, and Luke whispers his own thanks to his friends.

The band decides that it’s time to go and to their surprise, when they let people know that they are going to play at a small club in the center of the city, some decide to follow them. On the way, Y/N spends her time wiping her lipstick off Luke’s face with some wipes she had in her bag, struggling not to press her lips against his every time he made her an adorable grimace or a flirtatious smile.

“You know the drill, beautiful.” Luke turns to see her directly in the eyes, concern on his face just like every time before.

“Front row, not a second out of your sight, so if I need something better wait for you guys to finish performing to get it. Better safe than sorry." She recites, proud to remember every word.

“Thank you, baby.” He smiles a little more calmly, gives her a light kiss on the cheek and starts to help take out the instruments.

They are only doing a few songs from their repertoire, but the energy they transmit drives everyone in the little club crazy. The Sunset Curve members look at a Luke they haven't seen in a long time. The energy and passion in his voice dedicated entirely to the little woman in the front row who sings with all her strength every word and melody, imitating Luke's guitar solos or Alex's drums with her arms.

The 15 students who decided to attend are close to Y/N, trying to get her attention from time to time but nothing can take her eyes off her friends. Not even she knew how much she had missed seeing them play. The look of maximum happiness on their faces.

The last song is one that the little club seems quite familiar with, but she had never heard it before. So it must have been written in the last six months.

“Had my chances, could've been where he is standing.

That's what hurts the most, girl, I came so close

But now you'll never know. Baby, I loved you first.”

The lyrics leave her breathless. Luke, who had made contact with her practically all night, now seems to avoid her eyes like a plague. She definitely has to ask Alex about this song before getting any ideas.

The four bow and get off the stage, Luke launches immediately for Y/N, some of the girls try to get his attention and even try to grab him by the arm or waist but he remains firm until his hands meet his girl's hip.

“What do you think?” Luke's fingers shaking in the grip on her waist tell her he's nervous. The fact that her opinion of them matters so much to him that it makes him feel insecure makes her heart skip a beat.

“It was amazing as always, rockstar.” A huge smile appears on the guitarist's face, who gently takes her face with his hands and kisses her nose. After all, he has to remember that they are only pretending to date and for now he has no good reason to push his lips against hers. It doesn't matter how much he needs her.

The way home is uneventful, Y/N sleeping in Luke's arms while Alex puts the guitarist's red flannel over her.

“Will they ever stop pretending they're ridiculously in love with each other?” Bobby asks Reggie as he turns his head to see the couple.

“They are both stubborn and allergic to real feelings. Especially love. They are so terrified that they have to sabotage themselves somehow.” Alex answers for Reggie who just nods without taking his eyes off the road.

"Do you really have to talk like I'm not here?" Luke asks, resting his chin delicately on the head of the woman in his arms.

Tonight felt unreal. Felt practically like one of the many dreams he has had with the girl throughout these months. Seeing her in his clothes was enough to make the night special, but without a doubt dancing in her arms, savoring every inch of her mouth and seeing her energetically sing each of his songs to end the night with her in his arms is just perfect. Reggie parks at Y/N’s after dropping Alex and Bobby, and as Luke decides how to get her to bed without waking her she sinks deeper into his chest.

"Carry me to the door hotstuff, I like to be in your sexy arms." Luke lets out a cheeky laugh in surprise, another laugh coming from Reggie.

“She’s so asleep, I can’t. Adorable though.” Luke agrees and takes her bag before walking down with her in his arms and carrying her effortlessly to the door.

“Thank you for tonight. I didn’t think I could ever feel this happy and complete again.” She murmurs in his ear before giving him a sweet peck in the lips and enter the house.

What the two of them took from tonight is that indisputably, they are both still head over heels for each other. But it was like that the first time and it just wasn't enough.

Days go by with the couple being the school's favorite gossip. People talking in the hallways about the special way Luke looks at his girlfriend, comparisons about the dry way Y/N used to be with Diego compared to how she is with the guitarist, always touching him somehow and spending all the time with him as possible, visibly much happier. Some also talking about how good the band sounds and wondering why they hadn't heard it before. Everything going according to plan.

On Thursday afternoon, Luke arranged to pick her up for the two of them to find him something formal enough for the dance. When Y/N opened the door she met his beautiful greenish hazel eyes, and swears that for a second she forgot how to breathe.

She knows this scene. He smiles sweetly at her, takes her hand and opens the door of the car for her. Multiple interesting memories inside this car coming back to her mind. His firm hands on her legs, his tongue testing her mouth, his hot moans after biting his lower lip...

“Beautiful? Whatcha thinking?” Luke's voice brings her back to the present, his hand goes directly to her thigh as all that many midnight drives and without saying anything he plays the girl's favorite album.

That’s it. If she wants a chance with him, she needs to make this right. “I- We really need to talk.” Hearing the tone of her voice, Luke senses what is coming. He was here before. So he turns off the car that hadn't even started to move yet and turns to look at her.

"I know we've been putting it off, but we have to talk about how it all ended, I-"

Luke interrupts her before she can finish, his voice sounds broken, sad, angry. "I really don't want to talk about how you preferred an idiot for whom you don't feel the remotest thing just because he'll get a football scholarship and this perfect future.”

She spends a few seconds processing his words. Did he really say what she thinks he said? "It wasn't like that, Luke."

"I know it looks like I can't compete with him, but I would have done anything for you. And I thought you knew that.”

She doesn't know what to do or say. She was so unconscious, so selfish, so heartless, that she didn't even think about how he could have understood the situation. In how much he must have suffered these months watching her with Diego, believing he wasn’t good enough. Believing that she chose someone who wasn’t him, because he wasn’t good enough.

He stays quiet, examining the girl who seems about to cling to tears. The anger evaporates instantly and he leans into her seat to wrap his arms tightly around her. She starts sobbing, but seems determined to talk.

“R- Remember the night we met? It was the first Sunset Curve presentation. I had just entered the little club, but your voice dragged me to the front row like a magnet. And when I was finally in front of the stage, I knew it. It was you. The butterflies that everyone talks about for the first time in my stomach. I knew I could never feel again something even close to what I was feeling at that moment.

I got carried away in your voice, dancing to the rhythm of the melody and recording every sound in my head. And when I opened my eyes again, yours were staring at me. And I understood that you felt it too. It was me, and you knew it. It was so natural, powerful, magnetic, deep. I loved you since the first day, Luke. How is that not going to scare me?

When the feelings started to get so strong they burned, I knew I had to run. You always made it very clear that relationships were not your thing, I could not continue to wait for something that from the beginning you made it clear you could not give.

Then Diego arrived at the right time to give me an exit, and I took it. I knew he just wanted to have me around to raise his good boy status, and feeling nothing was safer than feeling too much. So I lied. I lied to you, to me, to everyone. And I’m sorry, but I was so scared. I was a coward who should have done things differently.”

When she finally finishes pulling out what she's been saving for months, she pulls away from Luke to see his face. His eyes look crystal clear, his cheeks red. But his beautiful white smile lights up his face.

"Next time you love me so much that you can't bear it, let me know, please? I can step on your foot or sneeze in your face. I was literally going to ask you to be my girlfriend that weekend. I even wrote you a song."

“You were? The one you sang the other night?”

“Okay, I wrote you a lot of songs. Maybe too many. But the one I'm talking about is different. Maybe I'll let you listen to it one day. If you stick around long enough this time.”

She smirks and kiss him lightly on the lips, enjoying the feeling of being able to. He knows he reacted way too chill. But he also understands her feelings. What is the point of reproaching her for something they can no longer change? A bad decision made by a love so immense that it left her blind. He is simply not willing to waste any more time. They are finally going to do things right. Neither of them is going to self-sabotage it this time, and since he doesn't trust it, he'll put Alex and Reggie in charge to make sure.

The night of the dance arrives. Y/N is wearing a beautiful black dress and her classic red lips. Luke tried his best to look fancy and he's wearing a pretty cool suit but in a sleeveless version. His still fake girlfriend couldn't stop smiling when she saw him. Just perfect.

Dancing in his arms, letting him go only once in a while to dance with the other three members of Sunset Curve made the night amazing. The rest of these two weeks they spent it talking, laughing... making out. Enjoying the most of the time they lost. Even completely forgetting why they were faking it in the first place, until they ask the candidates to take the stage.

"And your king are queen are... Y/N Y/L and Diego Hernandez!"

They all turn to see Luke in shock. Just hearing their names together is enough to make him frustrated, but there's not much he can do right now. And that's when he remembers what he asked the boys to play for the king and queen's first dance. Great, now dance they’ll dance to his song together. Just his damn luck. He sabotaged himself again without imagining it.

They are crowned and Diego offers her his hand, not without first throwing a face of superiority to the guitarist. She walks but continues straight until she is in front of her lover.

Luke looks at her strangely, she smiles at him.

“But I don't wanna dance, If I'm not dancing with you. Remember?” She sings happily in his ear, and offers her hand.

“Dance with me?” He looks at her adoringly and takes her hand.

“Always, beautiful.”

They walk to the center of the floor, Alex begins to sing the first verse. Y/N rests her head on Luke's chest, her hands around his neck, as he presses her against him by the hip, wrapping her in his arms. His head bent to sing the song in her ear.

“I swear to God, I can see... you're still the girl in the club.”

Tears of happiness begin to flow from Y/N, the words that she never had the opportunity to know, finally getting revealed. Luke's sweet, soft voice in her ear. The perfect melody and the beautiful voice of Reggie and Alex in the background.

“And I need you to know that we're fallin' so fast

We're fallin' like the stars, fallin' in love.”

The moment he sings in love, Y/N lifts her head to meet his eyes. He lifts his hands to her cheeks to wipe her tears, gently holding her face to make sure she sees him recite every word.

“And I'm not scared to say those words. With you, I'm safe.

We're fallin' like the stars, we're fallin' in love.”

The second Luke finishes singing, Y/N stands on tiptoe and pushes her lips against his. Tears of happiness continue to fall from her face, wrapped in a passionate, slow, deep kiss. He's all she wants. Her heart chose him since the very first day.

“I can’t believe one of Luke’s random ideas it's what made them find their way back to each other. Reg, we tried for 6 months and we were never even close. Two weeks ‘pretending’ and bam! they are just fine.”

Both watch the happy couple dance now that they are official.

"You know what they say, Fake it till you make it.” Reggie smirks while watching Luke happily kiss Y/N.

“Fair. At least everything was fixed before we shoved Luke into the pool to see if Y/N would rescue him with a mouth-to-mouth kiss."

“We still could try, you know... for science.”

“Cool. Monday works for me. Do you think that even though he didn't win, we still have a chance to win some more fans?”

Reggie raises his head before answering, a smile appears when he sees the bunch of girls and boys who are spying on them just a few meters away. Probably waiting for them to finish talking to get closer.

“I think Sunset Curve will be just fine too, Alex.”

Thank you for reading✨

Taglist: @writerinlearning , @ghostofmgg, @strangerthanfanfiction713, @thebloodthirstyvampress, @kinda-really-lost, @kcd15, @magnet-girl, @aliandthephantoms, @stxrkspidey, @pinkrockstar19, @s0uz4s, @shycupcakealissa @cookiebuba, @fangirlangioma, @sageellsworth05, @twist3dtinkerbell, @sunsetcurvenotsunsetswerve, @caitsymichelle13, @ifilwtmfc, @luckylouiebug, @bibliophilewednesday, @totomoshi, @siennanoelle01, @lunashadow6955, @bookfrog247, @morganayennefertyrell, @kiss-themoongoodbye, @rachelle3musicals, @imsydneywalker, @really-dont-forget-it @agentstarkid @talksoprettyjjx @kaitieskidmore1

[zukkaoru]

hello all! today is the one year anniversary of me posting plum blossom aka my first oneshot to cross not only the 10k word mark but also the 20k word mark. it's also still holding it's spot as my most popular fic by both hits and kudos and it genuinely stuns me that something that started out as a silly little idea i had right after watching boiling rock is still getting reads and kudos

so anyways, to celebrate one year and to thank everyone who has read and left kudos/comments on it, may i offer you a little snippet from the Sokka POV rewrite i started shortly after posting plum blossom and never ended up finishing?👀💞

(it starts during the white lotus meeting when toph takes zuko to talk to jeong-jeong)

“Gossip doesn’t suit you,” Pakku states. His voice is steady, but underlined with a harshness Sokka doesn’t like. “It doesn’t do well to talk about the Fire Lord behind his back.”

“He’s my nephew,” Iroh replies in the same calm but also somehow harsh tone. “I would not ask you to refrain from ever speaking of your family when they are elsewhere.” Iroh sips his tea.

He and Pakku stare at each other in silence until Jeong-Jeong returns, trailed by Zuko and Toph. Jeong-Jeong and Zuko both look shaken up while Toph looks proud of herself.

“Thanks for letting us interrupt the Old Man Meeting!” Toph says.

Sokka tries to meet Zuko’s gaze, but his eyes are unfocused, almost glazed over. As Toph shoves him out the door, Sokka jumps up and follows them. Pakku tries to pretest, but Piandao silences him.

“Wait, Zuko!”

Zuko tenses, but once his eyes focus on Sokka, he relaxes.

“I just wanted to say bye.”

Zuko smiles. “Oh. Right. Sorry for showing up unannounced - Toph kind of neglected to mention you might be here.” He steps closer, and Sokka knows that means he wants to hug Sokka. Sokka, of course, obliges and pulls Zuko into a hug. Zuko’s breathing is shaky, but that’s to be expected with how off he’s looked since he and Toph first showed up. There’s something bothering him, but Sokka doesn’t want to pry. Not yet, at least. Not right now.

Instead, he just whispers, “I know we just saw each other a few days ago, but I’ve missed you.”

Zuko’s arms tighten around Sokka. “I missed you too.”

--

Sokka is studying the swords hanging on Piandao’s wall while he waits for Pakku to finish discussing whatever with Jeong-Jeong, when Toph bursts in through the door. She looks frantic beyond belief, and almost like she’s been crying.

“Are Sokka and Iroh still here?”

Sokka’s blood runs cold. Something is very, very, wrong.

Sokka feels a firm hand on his shoulder, which he realizes belongs to Iroh. “What is it, Toph?”

“It’s Zuko.”

“What?” Sokka cries. He doesn’t even care about what everyone else will think at this point. Toph never calls anyone by their actual names. Zuko is always ‘Sparky’ or ‘Fire Lord Hotman’ if she wants to mix it up. “Toph, what happened?!”

Toph shakes her head. “Not here.”

Sokka can’t get out of the house fast enough, but Toph waits until she, Sokka, and Iroh are seated outside and she’s sure no one else is listening in before she speaks.

“He passed out,” she starts. “He wanted to visit Azula--” she must feel Sokka tense, because she quickly adds, “it wasn’t Azula’s fault, though! He was really persistent on visiting her once we left the meeting, though, and you know how he gets. But anyways, he passed out while he was talking to her, and he--” Toph seems to have an internal battle with herself for a moment. “He’s fine now. That’s what the doctors told me. But I really think you two should stay in the palace, or at least the Fire Nation, so he can talk to you once he wakes up. ...I think he has some really important things he wants to say to both of you.”

Iroh nods. “I do believe that would be best. Sokka, I am sure Pakku will inform your family of your change of plans.”

Sokka comprehends what Iroh says, but he can’t figure out how to respond. His voice isn’t quite working, and he doesn’t even know if he can nod. The only thing he can think is Zuko.

“Snoozles, come on,” Toph says.

“Your eyes are red,” is what he ends up telling her.

“My eyes are white,” she snaps. “I’m blind.”

“No. You were crying. What happened, Toph?!” It takes everything in Sokka to not reach forward and grip Toph’s shirt. She would just throw rocks at his head or something if he tried that.

“I told you! He passed out!”

“TOPH.”

“Fine!” She crosses her arms. “Fine. It’s kind of, sort of, possible he passed out because he couldn’t breathe. I don’t-- he just--”

“Couldn’t breathe?” Sokka feels like he can’t breathe. “Couldn’t breathe?” he stands up. “Will they let me see him?”

--

Toph must realize that there’s no way Sokka will sleep unless he can at least see Zuko, so she all but barges them into the hospital where Azula was put and the doctors point them towards an infirmary room. It’s empty except for the bed Zuko’s lying in and a waterbender standing at his side. As soon as the door opens, the waterbender looks up. She starts, rearranges Zuko’s blankets, and then makes her way out of the room. She drops something in the trash can on her way out.

Sokka rushes over to Zuko.

He’s lying on his back, and his face is paler than it should be, but he’s breathing. Sokka can see his chest clearly rising and falling, though it does seem a bit unsteady.

“What aren’t you guys telling me?” Sokka asks. He doesn’t look back at Toph and Iroh; just keeps staring at Zuko. Like if he looks away, Zuko’s breathing will stop.

“It’s not our place to say.” Toph’s words echo Iroh’s from earlier. There’s something going on with Zuko, something that both Toph and Iroh know about.

And Sokka won’t lie, it kind of stings that Zuko hasn’t told him. He just spent several days in the Fire Nation, and there were plenty of instances where the two of them were alone with each other. Zuko should know he can tell Sokka anything.

But Zuko isn’t good at talking about himself. Sokka knows this. Iroh and Toph tend to find things out, whether you tell them or not. Toph has her seismic senses to alert her when anyone’s heartbeat is even slightly off and Iroh might as well be able to read minds with how he figures things out about people. So Sokka shouldn’t be hurt, but he still wants to know why Zuko didn’t talk to him.

Sokka reaches forward and brushes a strand of hair out of Zuko’s face.

--

+ bonus: after zuko confesses

And it makes sense now, why Zuko didn’t turn to Sokka. And why Iroh and Toph were so adamant about not telling Sokka the full truth. He can’t even be mad, really, because there’s nothing to be mad or hurt about. Except maybe Ozai raising Zuko to think he was worthless, but Sokka can dwell on that later. And if he accidentally wanders into the prison where Ozai is being held captive and accidentally punches him in the face, that is absolutely nobody’s business at all.

“What are you thinking?” Zuko asks. He’s rubbing his thumb over the back of Sokka’s hand.

“About how a lot of things suddenly make a lot of sense.” Sokka leans forward and presses his forehead against Zuko’s. “Also about how I really want to kiss you again.”

Zuko doesn’t say anything; he just tilts his head enough so he can press his lips against Sokka’s. Sokka sighs into the kiss and he feels Zuko smile. Sokka brings a hand up to Zuko’s hair, running his fingers through it. He could honestly stay like this forever.

[kindness-ricochets]

I’ve been seeing a lot of thoughts and hc of autistic wylan lately and you seem to also be a fan of the concept. May I ask why? Exactly? I could definitely kinda see it but wanna hear you thoughts you’re always so eloquent

Hey there anon! Sorry for the delay—I’m guessing you already found an answer to this elsewhere while I was off Tumblr for a bit, but just in case, here are my thoughts. This will be heavily personal, but… well, you can’t very well ask an autistic person about autism and expect neutrality!

Autism is different for everyone and can be difficult to pin down, so while Wylan is arguably autistic, he misses several beats that for me would have made him definitively and undeniably autistic. For example, when the bells start to ring, triggering black protocol—I work in a place with a lot of bells and am frequently caught too close to one and normally press my hands over my ears until it’s over because that sound is like shrapnel raking across my insides. All of them. Not just the ear and brain parts. Wylan doesn’t have that sort of visceral reaction, but that may just mean he doesn’t have the same sensitivities that I do, or to the same level. He also never, that I recall, eats meat—as weird as that might sound, eating meat is incredibly complicated with heightened sensitivities to taste and texture. I’m not sure how old I was when I realized it was strange to get up from the table to spit out my food because it viscerally repulsed me. So it might be that Wylan is autistic and has different experiences than I do. Those are things I would include in a story as major indicators of a character being autistic. This might also mean that his father’s way of raising him taught him to hide unusual reactions and stimming behaviors. It’s not that much of a reach to assume a man who tried to abuse the dyslexia out of his son would take the same approach to autism. (More on autism and abuse later.)

So while I’m going to lay out why I read Wylan as autistic, that’s why I think it’s valid to read him as not being autistic as well. Both are valid.

A final caveat, I am well overdue for a reread of the books, so I likely left something out or could have found better examples. Take this as a few of my reasons for a personal headcanon. Anyone who feels differently, that's fine! We can each read things our own way :)

1 - Hyperfixation: The way Wylan loves music

Most of the Crows’ backgrounds color how they see the world: Kaz’s shrewdness, Matthias’s tactical thinking and superstition, Inej’s faith and Suli wisdom, etc. That’s a sign of good character writing. But very little of Wylan’s upbringing seems to have influenced how he sees the world. It comes closest when he thinks about how his father would scorn his new friends, but we never see that scorn from Wylan.

The way a hyperfixation feels, it’s like you’ve always lived in a close parallel world, never fully been a part of the other one where it seems like everyone else lives, but suddenly there’s this bright shining piece of your soul laced through the other world. It lets you connect, it lets you exist in their realm, and you can’t help but filter everything new through that lens because it’s the brightest, most wonderful thing. (I had been between hyperfixations for a while when I started a new job; six months into that work, I read Crooked Kingdom. One of my coworkers thought I had fallen in love, it was that marked a difference.)

So, combining these: Wylan never really acts like he was part of his father’s world, and indeed is in some ways separate from the other Crows, but he parses everything through music, his hyperfixation. He sets words to music to remember them, like he does with the contract. Even his own anxiety is made sense of through music, when in his first narrated chapter, he sets it to music: what am I doing here what am I doing here…. When he’s overwhelmed, his thoughts are “a jangle of misplayed chords”. The Crows have backgrounds that influence how they react to the world, but Wylan’s hyperfixation is his means of experiencing and understanding the world.

2 - Literal thinking: Wylan responds to exact words

In this post, I went into detail on the line where Wylan suggested waking up men to kill them. Wylan is generally unsupportive of killing people—Oomen, Smeet’s clerk, his father… he advocates not-murder in each of these situations. Accepting his aversion to murder, his suggestion to wake men up and kill them seems like a genuine reaction to Jesper saying he doesn’t want to kill unconscious men. Wylan takes things literally.

This happens the most with Jesper, probably because Jesper talks to Wylan the most. Nina and Matthias don’t really register him past how he might be useful, Inej is usually quite direct, and Kaz is very deliberate when he speaks with Wylan. This really interests me because Kaz tends to vary his speech more than the others do, he adapts more to being around other people. He jokes a little with Jesper, spars with Nina, speaks more openly and more sharply with Inej, and he’s precise with Wylan. Kaz may not know what autism is, but he recognizes what’s effective with Wylan.

Another example is when Wylan is sketching the Ice Court plans and Jesper says it looks like a cake. There are plenty of valid responses here: pointing out that concentric circles look like lots of things, that it’s just a sketch, telling Jesper to stop looking over his shoulder. Instead, Wylan says that the Ice Court is sort of like a cake. That… doesn’t sound like something Wylan would normally say. He’s not addressing the whole situation, he’s addressing the specific words Jesper said.

One of the most heartbreaking examples of this (to me, anyway) is with Marya. Wylan does the same thing with his mother, when she asks if he’s there for her money and says she hasn’t got any, and his response is, “I don’t either.” We understand as readers that what Marya is communicating here is that she is so accustomed to being utterly ignored unless she is being used, and if she told Wylan that no one visited but to take advantage and she assumed he was here for the same reason, he would say it wasn’t the case. But he just responds to the immediate statement.

There are a lot of examples of this.

3 — 0% perception, 100% creativity

Wylan can identify things that don’t make sense or that he doesn’t understand, but at the beginning of the series he can’t make leaps, only ask questions. On the Ferolind, he wonders about the source of water at the Ice Court; though Kaz doesn’t say as much, he was clearly wondering, too, because he eventually figured out the underground river. There’s an interesting parallel here where, in the beginning of Crooked Kingdom, Wylan asks a question about how they’ll break into Smeet’s and Kaz tells him to use his eyes instead of running his mouth—at which point Wylan is able to figure it out. I don’t think this is because he never tried before, though, but because no one ever bothered to teach him. Kaz can be harsh but he gives harsh corrections rather than harsh rejections and Wylan learns from him.

It’s hard to understand the world for people with autism. The world is designed and run by and for people whose minds are fundamentally different from ours, whose thoughts and experiences are unlike ours. Imagine trying to learn English or Spanish or Mandarin or any other spoken language if your first language was olfactory. That’s sort of what it’s like for someone with autism to just get dropped into the world and expected to figure this out.

This can be attributed to Wylan’s upbringing, but I disagree with that because none of the others were brought up in the Barrel, either, and Wylan doesn’t understand trade or politics with any special skill. Kaz wasn’t born in the Barrel, but he managed to go from “stealing is wrong” to “wrong isn’t my concern” real quick; Colm Fahey didn’t raise his son on gambling and firefights; the Ghafas never expected their daughter to be away from the family. Only Nina has relevant training—and even that’s precious little, she left school way too early. The others figured it out; Wylan needed a bit more help. He also seems surprised by the way his father conducts business. Wylan takes things on face value—like the time he’s surprised someone would do something, simply because it’s unlawful. This is something he expresses to a group of gangsters. He’s never been taught the way of any world and these things are not intuitive to him.

But Wylan isn’t stupid.

He doesn’t know how to understand the world, but he does understand how things go together. Given a pointy diamond, a handle, and a screw, he cut through Grisha glass. He carries flashbangs and magic napalm, he recreates military hardware—Wylan understands how to make things interact for a specific result. But to me the most telling thing isn’t just that he puts together chemical pieces, it’s that he figured out Jesper controlled bullets. He saw the pieces and put them together.

Wylan can understand when things don’t make sense, but he can’t make sense of them—yet when he understands things at their basic level, he understands them without preconception, for what they are. This is a very autistic way of thinking about things, it goes back to the literalism. He can’t make the leaps of logic other people can, but he also doesn’t make the assumptions they do—“I’ve never heard of a bullet Grisha, so that’s not a thing” vs “Well Jesper’s an almost impossibly good shot and he controls metal and bullets are metal, so why not?”

4 - Broken brain/body connection

Wylan’s great at chemistry and drawing and playing flute or piano—but he’s something of a disaster other times. This is in particular contrast to the other characters, all of whom are physically adept. Meanwhile it’s a challenge for Wylan to climb a rope ladder and he spends a full paragraph trying to figure out what to do with his hands. It’s easy to say, well, he’s used to a sedentary lifestyle, but at this point he’s not. He’s worked in the tannery for months. He’s just physically awkward.

I have less to say on this point only because it’s about something I don’t fully understand myself. I don’t really understand what it would be like to have a body that just… does things? Like normal stuff? Without tics and stims. No idea. Only that Wylan’s discomfort in and seeming lack of mastery of his own body feels very relatable to me.

5 - Abuse

One of the most familiar things about Wylan is how he has been so thoroughly abused and broken down that he’s afraid to do or say much of anything. Again, this is a place his background can be an obscuring factor. Of course Wylan didn’t think to blow up the walls when the first met the parem-juiced jurda and got trapped, he’s a spoiled rich kid! Except, he also startled when Jesper said his name later. Wylan didn’t hesitate because he was spoiled, he hesitated because he had no confidence.

He also thinks Kaz would laugh at him for playing music at his mother’s grave. Now, personally, I can’t see Kaz laughing at Wylan—being indifferent, thinking it’s pointless sentimentality, shaking his head, maybe commenting sharply that they need to go if they don’t have the time. But not laughing. Kaz is a snarky, sharp-edged jerk sometimes, but he doesn’t go out of his way to criticize, he just lets people know when they inconvenience him.

Wylan has been trained to identify attention as negative by an overbearing abusive father who literally saw him as less favorable than a demon. Now, that may have been hyperbole, but Jan criticized everything he could about Wylan—art, music, emotion—and made clear that he was worthless and competent to nothing. (Jan Van Eck can suck a rotten donkey dick but that’s neither here nor there.)

A lot of people with autism experience levels of bullying that have similar impacts. Or as the kids these days are calling it: we go to school. We go to school where we are weird. Where we look weird and move weird and talk about weird things and there’s a whole little bevy of asswipes to makes sure we know it. I got teased more for playing Pokemon and sitting alone reading than the kid who pissed himself onstage at assembly. (This was before Pokemon was cool. I’m old.) And that is not unusual for autistic kids. It’s also not unusual for this to be compounded by relatives or even parents who may be trying to help but don’t understand and can make things even harder.

So we can’t read social cues and we’re taught at a vicious age that everything that comes naturally to us is wrong. Imagine trying to interact in society with that background. There is no guide and most advice from neurotypical people isn’t actually what they mean. It breaks you down.

Wylan’s anxiety isn’t definitive of autism, but isn’t something that was incredibly familiar as someone whose neurodivergent experiences created a strong level of anxiety.

6 — High Compassion, Low Social Competence

Wylan isn’t very good at making friends. In fact, none of the Crows likes him much in the beginning, and only some of them soften toward him by the end. (Matthias and Nina come to respect his skills as a chemist but neither seems to particularly like him.) But you can see throughout the books that Wylan wants to connect with them and be one of them, he just… isn’t. He’s off-beat. He’s weird. He asks questions and mimics behaviors (trying to be cool and tough like Jesper, saying “mission” like Matthias does, imitating Kaz’s scheming face) but he doesn’t quite get how to adapt.

But he still cares about people. Not just them. Everyone. He cares about the people they leave in the ditch outside the prison wagon, he cares about Hanna Smeet, he cares about Alys. He cares about the people who’ll take a hit from Kaz’s sugar caper.

Wylan’s awkward social skills have undeniable big autism energy. I posit his compassion does as well. This is simply who Wylan is, and that means being someone who cares about everyone. I have nothing to back up that this is related to autism. I can say that it’s like me. (Not to brag.) I can’t turn off the part of my brain that says everyone matters. Individuals can opt out of that compassion, but they have it by default. There’s a certain agony in feeling a pull toward and love for just about everyone and yet an inability to develop meaningful connections with them, and that keen loneliness… it just burns.

Again, it’s not definitive of autism, but it’s very similar to an autistic experience.

I said in the beginning that I didn’t think Wylan certainly had autism and I stand by that, but he is a powerfully honest reflection of many people who do. So he can be understood to have autism, and that’s part of the reason some people have that headcanon.

[iammyownvariant]

Reader (Ghosts BBC, Mentioning of Alison/Mike and Alison/Thomas)

SUMMARY: You grew up in a wonderful big house full of ghosts. But why did you see them anyway? Reader Insert Series: BBC Ghosts AN: As I haven't the time to fully write out this idea, here's a shortened version of a prompt that has been playing inside my mind. Based on a post I viewed recently: I have always thought that if I'd been Alison, I'd be scared to death about getting pregnant or having a miscarriage and seeing that ghost child all the time. Now I could write something angsty about this, or something funny. I decided to go for a different route and wrote how it would be to be born in that household, with Alison and Mike as your mum and dad. (So no miscarriages or creepy things, just growing up with ghosts). Enjoy! PS. If anyone feels like picking up this idea or exploring elements of it, please do <3 -- -- Seeing ghosts was a normality to you. As you grew up, you saw them around the house and they were your friends. You saw them in school, saw them in the streets and basically everywhere you went. And you more than often became friends with them.

So this was how mum felt, hmm?

You could not say that you led a normal life. Seeing the ghosts and interacting with them wasn’t the oddest thing of all. No. The oddest thing you found, was something only revealed to you at a much later date, when you were already grown. But let’s cut back to when you were little.

You grew up in a wonderfully big home that your mum and dad had inherited by pure luck (or was it misfortune?). The house cost them everything and more than often people had wondered why they had started having kids during such a stressful period in their lives – because the home was still a bit of a wreck when you were born.

The house was large and wonderful and yours. You had never known any other place and you felt no need to ever move elsewhere. You loved it here. It was a certain love that made your mum and dad all the more determined to keep the place no matter what.

Apart from living in a fantasy-like building, your life was pretty normal.

Except for the ghosts.

The first time your parents noticed you saw them was when you were just a toddler and your father freaked out because you seemed to be talking to someone who wasn’t there. Your mum, being able to see them after a nearly-fatal accident, confirmed his fears though. You were playing with one of the ghosts that inhabited the house. Your parents thought it was a one off, until your sister was born four years later and she exhibited the same signs as you had.

Thus, the theory that seeing ghost was inheritable came into existence.

But as you had been seeing them since you were born, you held no fear of the inhabitants of the house. And there were a lot of them. It meant you were never alone. It was soothing in a way. Whenever there was something wrong or you felt sad or down, one of the ghosts was bound to cheer you up.

You especially loved Humphrey as a child. You loved his soothing voice and the tales he would tell when you couldn’t sleep. Truth to be told, you had a bit of a crush on the late Sir Humphrey Bone as a kid, thinking his face to be really pretty. So pretty, you often helped when his head and body were apart. You would go searching for another of the ghosts to pick up his head and put him back together whenever he lost it again. Though sometimes it would just be his head on your nightstand. Others might think this depravingly morbid, but it brought you a sense of safety, knowing he was there watching you. It chased away any bad dreams.

You often held sleepovers with Kitty. She was a lovely giggling young woman, and she loved to play hide and seek with you and your sister in the grand garden surrounding your home. The three of you would often giggle way into the night when either your mum would come to tell you to please go to sleep – or Robin joined in and did some of his caveman word games with the three of you – which made the evening all the better (no matter how often Kitty would exclaim that it was supposed to be a girls night only).

Having the ghosts around wasn’t always fun though. For instance, when you were a teenager and were playing dressing up and imagining all the boys who would swoon over you, only to see a head stick through your wall and telling you off. Auntie Fanny was a real pain sometimes, always talking about how you should be decent, how you should dress, how to hold your fork and knife during a dinner with guests. It was frustrating but she always managed to get on your nerves.

Your sister didn’t fare much better with her and suffered the same mouthiness of the former lady of the house. It didn’t help that the ghost woman still jumped out of a window in the midst of the night either. Your sister failed one of her exams once because she couldn’t focus on learning the material because Fanny Button kept her up each night with her screams. It was thanks to Thomas’ support that she was forced to focus on her schoolbooks and thanks to the other ghosts (and mum, who was pretty much threatening them to do as she said) to keep Auntie Fanny in check. In the end, your sister had changed back to a different room. The previous one she had occupied had been chosen by her because of the epic royal bathroom attached to it. Now she slept closer to yours again and took to using the shared bathroom without complaining. You didn’t mind, you liked having her close again.

Out of all the ghosts, you found the Captain to be the most tiresome as you were young. He was always drilling on about what you and the others should do. Always focusing on schedules that you should follow. Telling you off like you were a soldier.

Pat was way kinder, and often a bit too soft. You knew he often hung around your younger sister, because she was more outgoing than you were and he loved to be outside in nature. He helped her do all sorts of tricks, climb trees, shoot a bow and arrow – dangerous stuff even. But he taught her to do it responsibly, despite what you may expect of a man with an arrow lodged in his throat.

And then there was the one who frightened you like no other. Not even the plague citizens living in the cellar, who always kindly helped you with whatever issue you came to talk about. Yep, one of the ghosts scared you for a while: you usually tried to avoid Julian. As you were young, you thought he was an old man, wearing no pants, and he had a mean streak to him – jealousy you often found. He didn’t particularly seemed to like kids either, so you were fine with him going out of your way. As you grew older you realised Julian wasn’t actually as bad as you thought him to be. He even saved your life once or twice by pushing away or picking up a dangerous object that might have injured you otherwise. He was watching over you, like all the others were. And as you grew into a teenager and passed that sweet 16, you noticed a different gleam in his eyes. Julian changed. He became more gallant, more of a smooth talker when around you. But that behaviour ended quite abruptly, although the gleam of admiration never left his eyes. You wondered what had frightened him so to stop his advances on you. Whatever it was, you were grateful. Julian was not your type and never would be. (Later on you found out he had been challenged to a duel by Thomas who wanted to defend your honour, as child of the lovely Alison).

And then there was Jemima, she was the best friend of you and of your sister. As children she was just amazing to play with. First, she was older, and knew cool games you and your sibling had never heard of. Then, you grew to be the same age and she was the coolest girl you would ever know. And then, you grew older and she grew quieter. But you never ceased your habit of singing chilly songs with her.

You were a child, growing up between ghosts, and you felt safe between them. And though your father swore he could see them, most of his interactions with the house ghosts was initiated through you or your sister. He just didn’t possess the gift. But he was the greatest dad there ever lived. He loved doing stuff with you and your sister, going out, do fun things. He was a swell dad, filled to the brim with love for you and your sibling. He’d do anything to keep the two of you safe and happy and clothed and fed – even if things financially didn’t always go well for your family. You loved him to bits.

Your mum tried to warn you of the dangers of seeing ghosts. How those who could not see them would think it weird – would think you to be weird. You minded her words and sensibly, didn’t let anything show while in school. Even though, you were troubled with the ghost of a former teacher who kept sitting at a way too small child’s desk next to you and pester you throughout the lessons. You were glad when your mum told him off, some day after lessons. She had to sneak into the school with you. Oh boy, you had loved her firm voice, her confidence, and the fact that the ghost stuck to a different classroom from then on without coming near you again.

Your sister had a bit of a harder time. She let herself be distracted by the ghosts of a few children who had died in a school fire ages ago. While you had gotten away with explaining to them how you could not talk to them while others were around, your sister didn’t mind that rule though, and your parents struggled more than once with comments on how they should take your sister to see a doctor about this. Eventually, your sister learned, as she grew older. But more than often she would ignore what others thought of her and still communicate with the dead whilst other living beings were around.

But despite the fortune, or misfortune, of seeing ghosts, your life was pretty normal as you grew up. You loved all house ghosts for different reasons.

While Mary was easily one of your favourites, she was also a bit daft to the modern ways. Simple, might be a better word. She often promised to help you with your homework, but she never could attribute anything that you didn’t already know. So you often had to distract her with small tasks or tell her to hang out with Kitty or Robin instead.

And when Mary was gone it would be Thomas who would take over. Although he was easily distracted by art and snivelly poems, he would always try his best to focus and help you and your sister through each demeaning homework task. Sir Thomas Thorne was always nearby when you needed him. He had the tendency to sing songs to you as a baby, create old fashioned nursery rhymes when you were a toddler, play silly games with you as a child, motivate and guide you as a teenager.

In hindsight, you should have seen it coming. With all the care he held for you, with the warm tingling feeling it gave you whenever he was around. You should have known. And when you were a teenager and dated that ghost boy from two blocks away, it was Thomas who completely lost it and told you the boy would be no good for you, and that you deserved someone better. Someone more permanent. Someone alive.

Your mother and Thomas had a huge fight then – ("Someone more permanent than a ghost? That's rich coming from you!" your mum had shouted) all ghosts were listening in. But your dad was none the wiser. And so were you. Because you did not catch all references, and you did not understand each jab and insult thrown like a ping pong ball. And when your mum sat with her hands in her hair and Sir Thomas’ arm wrapped around her shoulder, you thought they had just made up. And then your father came in and he gave your mother solace. They hugged for a long time, and Thomas had just gone into the adjacent room. But that was all there was to it.

Of course it wasn’t though. Because your mother was strong. Darn strong. You loved it about her. The whole attitude she had, the air with which she wandered around the home and instructed the ghosts like she owned them. Your father said it hadn’t always been like that, that it had grown over time. In the beginning she had been ill-at ease, easily manipulated by the inhabitants of their home, had been often looked at funnily and ruined many a great business deal for talking or listening to the ghosts. She still did that – listen to them. She still embarrassed herself and your whole family along with it. Like that time you were at a beach party with family and friends and she had an entire conversation with a family of the 1960’s who were dead. Yeah, you’d rather not think back on that.

Or the one time one of she reported a crime to a dead officer.

Yeah.

But your mother was your hero. She was strong, fierce, and always stood up for you and your sister.

To find out a much deeper and darker truth then, about your family, was world shattering. And it was all because your sister had been in an accident and you came home to find Thomas in all states. And when you asked the other ghosts what had occurred they told you he was crying about his child. And that’s only when the pin dropped and you realised why this man was always working in your best interest and being so darn warm and kind for a person who was dead. Because you'd not missed the many times he showered your mother with affection. Or the way she would smile at him when he gave her another compliment. Or the way they would be just a little...too close. Could your sister be the child of a ghost? Impossible, right?

And you confronted your mum about it.

And she broke down.

Alison Cooper confessed to you, while your father was away at work, that she had been entangled with the ghost of Sir Thomas Thorne after a few heavy drinks and a way too fun party held at their home. Apparently, she had been incredibly drunk and had said things she otherwise wouldn’t have admitted. What happened should not have been possible by far. But Thomas had been able to actually feel her, and Alison had believed that no ghost could actually cause consequences with a human who was still alive. Perhaps her near-death experience had thrown something into the mix. We would never know. But Alison found herself pregnant after days spent without a touch by your dad, Mike. The first thought had been to terminate the pregnancy, but remembering the dove that still liked to terrorize their bedroom, Alison had grown scared. She realised she could not terminate the pregnancy or she might be faced with a ghost of her own baby. And you realised this was not your sister she was talking about. This was you.

So instead, Alison had pleaded Thomas to keep their secret (which he had done poorly and every ghost knew what had truly occurred, but luckily your dad could not interact with them), and your mum seduced your dad. They were already married, there were no contenders, your father believed you were theirs and never held a doubt. In hindsight, it explained your paleness- and the seeing of ghosts. It had been deemed the impossible, and for a long while, Alison thought and hoped that you were a child of Mike’s after all.

Mike took it all up really well, with you being what is called an accident. He was instantly smitten – as were all of the ghosts to be honest. Alison thought things would work our after all.

But then, when Mike wanted to have another kid, and though they tried, it took three years and a lot of desperation to admit to seeing a doctor. And then they were faced with the terrible truth that Mike wasn’t fertile at all. The news was delivered to your mum first, with Mike away and only the house ghosts listening in. It was a shock to all of them, mostly to Alison who had been pointed at the result by another ghost doctor. She managed to hide away the evidence, the true results, and together with newly found ghost friends she made at the hospital, fabricated a new lie. Mike was never to know that you could not possibly be his.

So instead, Alison was persuaded by Thomas and her undying love for Mike. He wanted another baby, she wanted them to be happy. Deal done. Thomas fathered a second ghost-seeing child with your mum. Your sister. The one who was recovering in hospital after a nasty car crash. (And luckily, she got out alive and safe and you got to hug her again tightly because no matter what, your sister would always be closest to you - all ghosts in spite).

So there you were, hearing your mother’s confession. The understanding dawning upon you that you did not see ghosts because of just your mum – but because you father was one. It all made so much sense. And it took a lot of strength to keep your mouth shut about it to Mike, your father.

Your real father, Thomas, you found, was understanding. And you were glad more than once that he could not interact with Mike. You had warned him that you would keep calling Mike dad, even if he wasn’t biologically. And Mike remained none the wiser. You still loved your non-biological dad as fiercely as you had before. You’d just glare a lot more in Thomas’ direction for a while.

In the end, you ended up marrying a young ‘living’ partner. You made sure that both Mike and Thomas were leading you down the aisle – even if Mike was never to know it. All Ghosts loved it, loved how you recognised Thomas to be your father. They also loved it how you never once dropped the truth on Mike or let him down. In your eyes, he would always remain on a pedestal as the perfect dad. It just so happened that you had two now.

As you somehow had expected, Alison died too young. An accident out of love, one of the ghosts had said. (She was furious at Thomas for many years to come, but she could not help but love him still.) During the years she was angry at Thomas, she tried to convey a message to Mike. She wanted him to know the truth, but he hadn’t understood her dying last breath, and he hadn’t understood her hauntings. ("It say's Thomas... dad? dad? Wait a minute, isn't Thomas one of the ghosts? Yeah, of course he is dead. Duh!") And he seemed delighted that she was still there, even as he started dating a new woman and ended up marrying her. (Alison was okay withit, but only after smashing a few vases and making that new woman's life a living hell). It was no wonder your dad wanted to move elsewhere quite soon after his second marriage. I mean, living with your deceased wife and your new crumpit was a bit weird, right? Your dad, Mike, handed the house to you and your sister. She chose not to stay and lived her live elsewhere, visiting occassionally, while Mike and his new wife settled somewhere close by. You remained in the huge mansion with your husband and your children, enjoying the way the ghosts watched over them as they had watched over you, feeling safe and happy. Because with these ghosts you were at home.

[simonsrosebud]

the one where someone doesn’t know who kevin day is, pt. 3

part one two four five

kevin has a talk with them the next morning before practice.  or more of just him storming into the lounge and going off.  the four freshman are there, too, but he doesn’t quite care.

“dalton isn’t fucked up like the rest of us!  there’s a reason i didn’t want any of you meeting or even knowing about him and it’s not because i hadn’t fucking come out yet.  he’s not a fox, and he’s not even thea.  he’s not involved with exy, he doesn’t know about riko and me and the moriyama’s and the rest!  there’s a lot of shit he doesn’t know about yet and none of you had the right throwing it all out in the air last night just to have a fucking laugh.  tell me, was it funny?  was it fucking funny getting him shitfaced just to get some answers and take the piss?!”

dan stands, and kevin holds a hand out.  she looks to andrew, but his silence sides him with kevin.  “kevin, we were just trying to-“

“you have no excuses, dan.  none of you do.  you were trying to make a fool of me and my boyfriend for nothing.  and now, i have to go cure his curiosity of the things you all said.”  and he storms out.

wymack doesn’t stop him.  if anything, he looks mad at those left.  “the fuck did you do to him to make him skip practice?!  you realize that’s never happened so long as he’s lived, right?!  we don’t have protocol for the day kevin skips exy.”

meanwhile, dalton doesn’t actually have that many questions.  the numbing of alcohol for a face tattoo is understandable, especially knowing that kevin’s sober and therefore must have had a problem.  the cracker dust he asks about just because he doesn’t know what it is- he doesn’t like it, but trusts kevin that he’s done with it.  he’s seen the scar along kevin’s hand, he already assumed it was from a surgery.  the edgar allen thing was too vague for him to be curious about, but he does ask- not about, the father comment, but if he’s okay about it.  kevin tells him this much;  that he transferred from edgar allen to palmetto because he’d known for a few years that wymack was his father, and that he didn’t have the courage to tell him until last year.

kevin thanks the gods that dalton doesn’t ask about or seem to remember any mention of the yakuza.

they’re at kevin’s suite because he knows they’ll have a few hours by themselves with everyone at the stadium, but only an hour in there’s knocking on the door.  dalton has his lips on kevin’s- he’d just said how he likes having access to his “real smile”.  “gonna get it?”  kevin shakes his head.  the knocking starts again.

“come on, kevin!  we’re sorry!  just open up for a second!”

kevin knows dalton likes when he speaks french, so he sighs and kisses him before whispering, “i hate them all.”

dan is at his door with matt and allison in tow.  “what do you want?”

“to apologize.”  kevin raises his eyebrows.  “look, we take the piss a lot and you never seemed to be visibly affected by it, so we didn’t realize that last night was upsetting you until you left.”

“you said never have i ever seen kevin have a meltdown.  why do you think you’ve seen that?  because i’m a toddler?  you know what i’ve had my reasons.”  riko.  the moriyamas.

“i know.  look, we don’t want to give you excuses.  i-i don’t have an explanation.  you’ve always kind of let us take the piss without saying anything, and we took it too far, especially last night.  andrew looked like he wanted to kill nicky for the yakuza comment, but neil talked to him about it before we went to the stadium this morning,” she whispers the last part because she’s not stupid, and kevin huffs.

matt jumps in.  “we wanna make it up to you, man.  you’ve obviously hid him from us for a reason and we proved you right.”  kevin honestly wants to get back to dalton and he wants it to just be over with.  “bring him to the winter banquet, we’ll be nice.  if anyone says anything i’ll punch em.  neil will chew em out.”

kevin grimaces.  the ravens will be at the banquet.  it’s in just over a month, the second week of december.  he’ll have to tell dalton some things by then.  and he might have to say something to the public.

he doesn’t tell him anything.  not yet, at least.  he still has three weeks until the banquet- he hasn’t even asked dalton yet.  he starts to like away games a little more than before, though.  he gets dalton a little postcard from every new state they go to.  he tapes them all to one of the walls of his room.

he’s on the phone with dalton at an airport general store, even, when he gets interrupted by two girls.  he puts on his press smile before he even notices.  “hold on, d.”

he doesn’t love fan interactions.

when they leave, dalton asks him with amusement if he’s got fans now, and kevin kind of decides he should probably tell him some more about his life because jesus, does he have fans.  he needs to tell him about he and riko.  what they were, what they were to fans of exy, what kevin was to fans of exy.  what kevin was to riko- without involving the yakuza.

but he doesn’t, because dalton never brings up the topic of “fans” again.

he doesn’t tell him until a week later, when he wakes up from a nightmare.

dalton’s leaning over him, speaking, but all kevin sees is riko riko riko.  it takes all of two seconds for dalton to back off.

“hey, hey, it’s me, it’s dalton.  you’re safe, you’re in my apartment.  no one else is here, i promise.”

kevin’s breathing so hard, dalton flicks the lamp on and he just crumbles.  he sits up and presses his hands over his eyes, “i’m sorry.”

“can i touch you?” he nods.  dalton’s sitting at his side, cross legged, and gently pulls kevin’s hands off his eyes.  “you don’t have to be sorry.  i know there’s shit in here,” he lightly lifts his hands to hold kevin’s face and taps his temple with a finger, “i don’t need to know what it is, just know you don’t have to apologize for it, and know you’re safe.”

kevin nods and twists to hug him.  and dalton wraps his arms securely around kevin’s back.  he presses a kiss to the top of his head and mumbles “c’mere” to prompt kevin into climbing into his lap.

dalton slides his fingers through kevin’s hair and it’s just so soothing, it nearly puts him to sleep.  and when dalton lays back down kevin stays wrapped around him with his cheek pressed to his chest.

when kevin wakes up it’s to find they’ve switched positions overnight.  dalton’s got his arm lazily draped over kevin’s waist, almost holding him close like a pillow.  his ankle is thrown over kevin’s, and his head is pressed into the back of kevin’s neck.

kevin doesn’t want to move.  in fact, he stays so still so as to not wake dalton, that when he stirs kevin just shushes him and pulls dalton’s arm back around him.  he holds his hand close to his chest.

dalton’s not stupid.  he knows kevin’s awake and nuzzles himself closer.  “you like being cuddled.”

“you’re the one doing it, not me.”  but he definitely tilts further into the pillow to expose his neck when dalton starts kissing up the side.

“you like being the little spoon.”  and pushes himself up over kevin.  “you like when you’re on the bottom, kev.” he kisses him deep into the mattress despite morning breath, and noses down his neck.  “i like it.”

kevin tugs at dalton’s hair.  “and what… what about it?”

ahaha.  aha.  sex.

anyway.

he tells dalton everything afterwards.  he leaves out the yakuza part, and the fact of neil’s past, because that’s another monster.  but he tells him the rest.  who his mother is and why he’s such a big deal in the exy world;  why he really left edgar allen and came to the foxes;  the tattoo that’s buried under his chess piece and what it meant.  what his relationship with riko was really like, and everything about their past and the abuse he endured.

and he fills him in on what triggers him because of that: small pitch black rooms, confined spaces without an easy way out, holding his hand too tight, the mention of riko moriyama, a lot of other things.

and dalton stays. 

so kevin asks him to the banquet.  when he says yes, he asks wymack for help arranging an interview.  there are enough people and press lingering outside the exy banquets, and he’d like to hold his boyfriend’s hand on the way in this year.

it’s scheduled to be live the morning before the banquet.  it’s with sophie silletti for espn college exy, and she posts about it as soon as it’s booked.

kevin sits with her.  it’s nothing like kathy ferdinand.  they talk strictly about exy and eventually, with his pre-approved questions, she brings up thea’s team’s most recent game.  “and forgive me if i’m wrong, but you and thea muldani split recently, yes?”

kevin nods.  “back in may, i’d say.  we’re still friendly, i have the utmost respect towards her.  in the end it just didn’t work out.”  i haven’t talked to her in months.

sophie nods.  “everything happens for a reason, i’d like to think.”

“of course.  it wouldn’t have led me elsewhere.”

“is that hinting at something?  i feel we don’t normally talk about this, but does kevin day have someone new in his love life?”  

kevin palms are sweating.  he hopes his face isn’t red with nerves.  “i do, actually.  i won’t say anything about him for his own privacy” i don’t want the public’s prying eyes “but we’ve been together for a bit, now.”

sophie is grinning, she feigns surprise.  “i heard you say him, did i not?  anything else to tell us?”

he keeps his smile easy, but he can feel the worry in the back of his head telling himself they can see right through it.  “if you’re asking, then sure.  i’m a bisexual man, so yes, my partner is also a man.  this is the first time i’ve ever announced it to the public, actually.”  as if that wasn’t the whole point of today.

“at least your fangirls can keep their hopes up, then, yeah?  still got a 50/50 shot!  and i’ve got to say, i feel honored you trusted me and my show with a milestone like this.  coming out certainly is a big deal, or at least nerve wracking!  how do you feel?” she laughs.  “is it like a weight lifted from your shoulders?”

“i was never too stressed about it.”  lies.  “some will hate, sure, but my job is the game.  if my fans are true then this won’t change that.  speaking of,” and then it’s back to exy.

wymack drives them back to palmetto, and when they’re close enough he says, “i’m proud of you for doing that.”

“thanks.”

“where am i dropping you off?”

kevin knows andrew and neil probably watched the interview, and he doesn’t feel like dealing with whatever they’ve got to say about it.  so wymack drops him at dalton’s who hugs him as soon as he opens the door.

“you watched?”

“of course.”  he kisses his cheek.

all posts/updates relating to this au can be found in the “OC: dalton miller” tag!

extra content

[boxofbadaddiction]

Those Three Little Words

Fred Weasley x Reader

This story is inspired from a request of my F.R.I.E.N.D.S Themed Prompt List.

Prompts: 10 & 11

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'Oh, crap!'"/"Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha."

Warnings: Swearing (per usual). Anxiety. Toxic Family. Emotional Trauma(?). Angsty. Post-War.

The War had been a sick wakeup call for Fred. He'd lived his life carefree and reckless, as he figured each day were a given. Mess up today it didn't matter because there was always tomorrow. He would strut through life as if he were invincible because, well, he always seemed that way. But death has a funny way of reshuffling ones priorities. A way of shedding light on what truly matters in your life.

Fred never considered himself as someone who lacked ambition. Frankly George and he never seemed to let anything hold them back. However, these days Fred could very well give Slytherins a run for their money - something George frequently teased him about. If there were something he wanted Merlin himself couldn't get in his way.

Not only in the case of work but his personal life as well. In love. And there was only one woman on Earth he loved. [Y/N].

He knew he loved her before the war. Before Umbridge drove him from Hogwarts in their final year. Before she left him.

It was only shortly prior, the boys epic departure, that [Y/N] had made the decision to call it quits. She knew their lives were destined to pull them in opposite directions and she never put much stock in long distance relationships. So, with a final kiss and a wish good luck, she walked out of his life. Albeit not completely.

After graduation she kept loosely in touch with the Twins, they had been friends after all, even visiting their shop on the off occasion when she could swing it. Although she was often far too busy to stay for long. Eventually she was relocated overseas for work, this officially terminating any of the limited contact had between the three.

The next time they would be in each others presence was the ill-fated battle.

[Y/N] had been keeping tabs on the events leading up to the fight. Even engaging in missions on behalf of the Order when necessary. She had proved quite a valuable asset. In the days before all Hell broke loose [Y/N] returned to Britian on 'urgent family matters' and of course she fought.

When Fred saw her again after so many years the rush of feelings that coursed through his body were nearly enough to knock him off balance. She was still so gorgeous. The [E/C] of her eyes reminding him just how deeply he loved her. Just how much he needed her. And he knew. Just knew she felt the same.

He saw it in the little things she did for him. Saw it in the tears of her eyes. In the way she broke down in his Hospital room when he finally woke, a fortnight, after his accident. Heard it in the tremble of her voice. In her 'I thought I lost you's. In the way she clung to him. He was so relieved she was okay and so happy to finally have her back in his life. Until suddenly...she wasn't anymore.

Recovery was Freds life now, but that wasn't hers. She was still needed elsewhere and as much as he wished she would stay he knew she couldn't. She still had a life left living. It were a miracle she managed to stay as long as she had. So...she left. And he wouldn't see her again for years. Six. To be exact.

Recovery had taken years from Fred. It was two and a half years before he could consider himself independent. After all that time wasted he wasn't about to let anything stand in his way. So when news carried to his ears that [Y/N] was back living in London, permanently, that after six years he could see her again, there was nothing holding him back.

In a second he'd apparated to her doorstep. Knocking on the withered wood door. Listening to the faint patter of approaching footsteps. Hearing the gentle click of the locks tumblers as they turned. Watching the steady swing of the door as it opened. Feeling the prick of burning tears behind his eyes as he stared back into her questioning gaze. Pulling her body into his as their lips collided. Relishing in the warmth that spread through his blood as she kissed back. Clung back. Loved him back. Everything he poured into her she gave right back. He swore right in that moment that he'd never let her go again. They'd wasted so much time already.

Over a year later the two could not have been deeper in love. She'd moved into the boys flat mere months after he appeared at her door. It's what Fred wanted, and Fred always gets what he wants.

Fred and Georges business had picked up quite quickly after the war. Fred insisted George begin work on the restorations while he recovered. Saying he wanted everything back in full swing by the time he was upright, to pick right back where he left off. George was sure he simply didn't fancy cleaning it himself and saw recovery as a pretty convenient excuse. Fred didn't deny his brothers claim.

They'd managed to open a second store in Hogsmead and were currently renovating the original store. Expanding the flat and lower levels. This saw the three residents temporarily relocating to the Burrow for a few days as the work was completed. Molly had insisted, saying the house were 'far too quiet' for her liking. Which was hard to believe as Ron and Hermione and Ginny and Harry all currently lived there. Of course Bill and Fleur, as well as Percy had all moved out ages ago, and Charlie was back living in Romania. Still, it beats paying accommodation elsewhere. And they couldn't deny that spending time back in their childhood home was enjoyable. It felt warm and safe and familiar, like the war had never happened and they were all just spending time together as a family.

As dinner approached on their third day home [Y/N] and Harry could be found helping prepare tonights meal, under the careful instruction of Mrs Weasley, while the rest sat comfortably within the sitting room fondly reminiscing their times spent together just like they were now.

The group were laughing haughtily at a certain memory George had recalled in which [Y/N] turned Rons entire bedroom hot pink with the Twins 'Everlasting Dye', after he thought it'd be funny to turn her hair a similar shade. Much like [Y/N]'s hair the dye hadn't faded for well over a fortnight as the Twins found the whole thing all too funny and refused them the instant remover.

"God, I love her." Fred smiled brightly at the memory, "I'm going to marry that woman." He stated matter-of-factly.

"Sure she likes you that much?" Ginny quipped.

"Certain, dear Sister." Ginny simply nodded a look of uncertainty on her face. "What's that look for?" "Nothing." "Ginny." "well it's just...she doesn't really say it much does she?" "'Course she does. What are you on about?" "I just don't think I've ever actually heard her say she loves you before." "It's not like you're 'round us 24/7 now is it?" Fred scoffed, shaking off his sisters comment.

George meanwhile was staring towards the ceiling, brows furrowed as he contemplated Ginnys words deeply before letting out a low "hmmp" as realisation struck.

"Oh, what now?" Fred rolled his attention toward his Twin. "Nothing it's just I can't think of a time I've heard her say it either." Ginny had a look of 'I told you so' blatantly obvious on her face while Ron and Hermione thought hard on the topic as well. Freds gaze shifted quickly between his gathered family.

"Oh, so what if you've never heard it. Point is I have. And I know she loves me so it doesn't matter. But if you all must! Here," he leant back in his chair calling into the kitchen "Hey, [Y/N/N]!" "Yeah, Freddie?" She walked toward him with a loving smile. "I love you" [Y/N]'s smile faded instantly as she raised a suspicious brow, "What'd you do?" "What!?" Fred asked shocked as the eavesdroppers giggled. "No. Nothing, really! I just wanted to tell you I love you." "Oh...well I know that" she smiled, kissing him softly. Fred gave her an expectant look as she stood back. "...what?" "you love me too, yeah?" "Of course I do." There was a determination behind her words. Almost as if she were insulted by his question, to which the answer were painstakingly obvious. She soothingly ran a hand through his hair, "I've got to get back in there and help your Mother before Harry burns everything." She joked, placing a final quick kiss to his lips. He watched her leave a giddy smile on his face before turning back to his nosey family.

"See. Told you." He laid back in his seat confidently. The group all shared tight lipped, awkward, smiles. "Oh, what?!" "It's just she didn't really say it, did she?" George spoke. "Yeah she did. I asked her and she said 'yes'. End of conversation." "But she didn't actually say the words; 'I love you'." Ginnys voice intervened. "She doesn't have to." "Shouldn't it be sort of automatic?" "Like you and Harry say it every time." He rolled his eyes. "Pretty much" Ginny nodded, earning an unconvinced scoff from her brother. "Here, watch."

Ginny mirrored Freds earlier movements, calling to the kitchen, "Hey, Harry!" "Yeah, Gin?" Harry came to his fiancès call. She smiled up at him sweetly, "I love you". Harry looked around the group a little uncomfortable and unsure but smiled nonetheless. "I love you too" he placed a quick kiss to her temple. "Right, that's all I wanted you can go now." Ginny turned back in her chair as Harry walked away very confused.

"Automatic." She gestured widely with her hands, a triumphant look on her face. "Oh piss off." Fred scowled. "Doesn't matter if she 'says the words' or not. I know she loves me. Doesn't bother me." "Good for you, Freddie." Ron spoke encouragingly. "So you're on my side?" "Absolutely!" "It wouldn't bother you if Hermione never-" "oh GOD no! She has to say the words. I need the reassurance." He looked up to his girlfriend, who in turn lovingly took his hand in hers.

"Alright. So it's a little strange. But I bet I can have her saying it before we leave." "In four days?" George questioned, sceptical. "Yep. I'll make her." "How romantic. With charm like that it's a wonder why she hasn't said it already." His Twin chuckled. "Why don't you just talk to her about it? Maybe there's a reason." Hermione piped. "Nah. My ways better." Fred shook his head, tapping his knees lightly as he thought.

And so began, what Fred would soon discover to be, the most difficult challenge he'd ever attempted.

It started out simply enough; with a few added 'I love you's here and there. Whether the moment called for it or not. Although after the war Fred had become notably more vocal in expressing his love towards family and friends, he kicked it up a notch in an attempt to coax those very words from the mouth of his partner. Quickly escalating to more grand and romantic gestures.

The first was a ridiculously large bouquet of vividly yellow roses. Moving onto a private picnic for two atop the Hill which rested behind the Burrow. At sunset he had dragged [Y/N] from the home to where he laid a blanket and candles, with soft music playing in the background, as well as having organised a platter of all their favourite foods. Ending the meal rather...intimately. During which he was sure to further praise her and whisper sweet, loving words in her ear. Telling her just how much he loved her.

His constant showering of affection had granted him plenty of appreciation in return. His words always being met with the usual "I do too"s and "Me too"s even a couple "Dittos" they always had, though he was yet to receive any "I love you"s. Which hadn't bothered him before, but now was proving to be mildly infuriating and very disheartening, really.

Failure wasn't something Fred was used to anymore. To think he was unable to get his long term partner to say those three little words was quickly making him uncomfortable.

By the fourth and final morning, since setting himself this little challenge, Fred was spent. He was sure he'd tried everything. Grand gestures. Romantic dates. Surprise kisses. Great sex. He had even seriously considered proposing, as a last resort. But these were not the circumstances in which he wanted to do so under, when he did he wanted it to be perfect. Maybe the Imperius - NO! no. Too drastic.

Why was nothing working? Suddenly Ginnys amusing quip wasn't so funny anymore and struck a vein far too close to home. Was it possible he was wrong and she simply didn't feel the same way?

All manner of sickeningly worrisome thoughts began to flood through his mind as he lay awake. He starred at the woman he loved so fiercely, so passionately, he could swear she were the only reason his heart kept bleeding.

He watched her as she slept peacefully, tucked tight against his chest, whilst he absent-mindedly stroked her hair, contemplating a reality which he much rather never come true. One in which she didn't love him.

He used to be so sure but now...now he was terrified. He'd never thought much on what form his Boggart would assume if he ever were to face one. He knew in this moment though that is exactly what shape it would take. Her.

She'd approach him slowly. An evil grin and amused brow raised upon her features. She'd tell him what a fool he was. How stupid he was to ever think a woman like her could love a boy like him. That she only stayed with him out of pity. How humiliated and desperate he seemed that day on her doorstep. How it would have been better if he had just given up, never fought to survive after the explosion. How much better it'd have been if he just died in War. She could have found real love, lived a happy life away from the embarrassing one she led with him in it.

Tears burned red in the whites of his eyes as his chest shuddered with every quickened and panicking breath he took. His heart thundering in his ears as the room began to spin. He was suffocating. Sweat streamed down his temples. He had to get out. Escape.

Sliding as quickly and carefully as he could from beneath the covers without disturbing the sleeping woman in his bed, he took for the shower. Praying the steam would unfog his mind. That the water would wash away his doubts and anxiety.

The whole time he tried to rationalise why [Y/N] wouldn't say the words. Reassuring himself that it didn't matter. Shouldn't matter. He left the bathroom long after the water had run cold feeling only moderately better than when he'd entered. At least now he had a modicum of control over his body. His emotions on the other hand...

He slowly descended the steps of his childhood home, face emotionless, to the sound of light chatter and clinking of various dishes. Everyone was already gathered around the table eating breakfast.

"Ah, there you are!" George announced as Fred entered the kitchen, "clean now are we? Thought you'd must have drowned in there." He joked. Fred offered a light chuckle and forced smile as he sat himself between his Twin and partner. "What's this the wake then?"

[Y/N] leant into his side, placing a kiss to his cheek as her hand traced circles on his lower back. "Morning, Hun" she murmured tenderly, chin resting against his shoulder as she peered up at him. He didn't look at her, simply humming in response. His hand briefly came to squeeze her thigh before quickly retracting. This did little to evoke a sense of ease within his significant other.

Over the eighteen months they'd shared together [Y/N] had long since become accustomed to his dramatic morning greetings. Usually, as they'd wake up together, it'd involve him peppering her face and neck in countless kisses before joining George for breakfast. On days when they'd wake to find themselves alone under the covers, the other having obviously awoke long ago, he'd surprise her. Lifting her off her feet and spinning her through the air then, placing her back down, kissing her deeply.

The only times she'd seen him like this were nights when his dreams had been plagued with flashbacks from the Battle. She assumed he'd slept peacefully. He hadn't had any nightmares in months and would usually, unintentionally, wake her during them. "You okay, Freddie?" "Yeah."

Totally convincing.

The rest of the day Fred was cold. To everyone but [Y/N] especially. He was having difficulty even looking at her. She'd tried talking with him but he insisted there was nothing the matter. Didn't keep her from worrying.

After dinner everyone moved into the lounge, engaging in various bits of conversation. Everyone aside from Fred. No one was sure when he'd disappeared but his absence was noted nonetheless. [Y/N] was the one to search for him. Found standing within the garden over looking the sunset.

She could see the discontent held in his body, the way he stood so rigid. The hollow expression on his features, completely devoid of any emotion. It hurt her seeing him this way.

"Hey, You." She spoke hesitantly. Fred turned at the sound of her voice. Watching her standing tentatively before him as if unsure whether or not her presence was welcome. "Hey, You" he smiled sadly back, his frame visibly relaxing at the sight of her. "We're all missing you in there. What are you doing out here all by your lonesome?" [Y/N] said softly as she approached him, arms snaking around his waist. His hands fell to her lower back and pulled her into his body ever more so. "Just needed a bit of quiet to think" "'Think', huh?" He hummed in response. "That's never good" she grinned making him laugh lightly. "No, it isn't." He placed a slow kiss to her lips.

Breaking it shortly after as he teased, "So, you missed me?" "Every second you're not by my side I do." He rested his forehead against hers, their eyes falling shut contently. Fred exhaled comfortably,"I love you" "I do too" [Y/N] replied. "What love you?" Fred straightened himself with a cheeky expression on his face which was mirrored on that of his partners. "Stop it." "I'm serious." "You know what I mean" "Do I?".

[Y/N] had another quip ready on the tip of her tongue until noticing that cheery look he held had vanished and they were no longer standing in one anothers embrace. Her face dropped at the sight if a completely serious Fred Weasley stood in front of her. Awaiting the answer to a question she didn't fully understand. "Whats gotten into you?" She took a step toward him, to which, he took one back. "Do you love me?" "Of course I do!" "Then why don't you say it?" "I don't know what you're -" "you never say it." "I just did." "No, you agreed to a question I asked." "It's the same thing." "It's not."

The two were practically talking on top of one another. "Just...say it." He took a step towards her, to which, she took one back. "If I say it now it'll be forced and it may as well not mean anything." "Why can't you just say it!?" He snapped, more asking himself the question than her. But he needed to ask. He wasn't yelling at her but a part of [Y/N] wished he would. "I know you love me. Or at least I thought I did. I just...I need to hear you say it because sometimes I can't help but wonder - please just. Say it." Staring into her eye's pleadingly, hers stared right back in apology. "Fred..." "Forget it." He turned from her. "Fred, baby" her hand reached for his shoulder as his own ran through his hair in frustration whilst his jaw clenched. "I can't. I can't be near you right now." He shook his head, storming off towards the Hill. Ignoring her frantic, begging calls.

[Y/N] stood rooted to the spot from shock. This was one of the first fights the pair had had, and she wasn't even sure what brought it on. There'd been minor squabbles between them out of stress from work or other things but never something like this. They had such an open relationship it never got to this point, any concerns either held was always voiced and discussed. Why was this time different?

As she watched his figure slowly disappear amongst the dark as night was soon to fall, she made her decision. This time wasn't going to be different. They were going to talk about it whether he cared to or not. Even if that meant her admitting somethings she'd very much hoped never have to. So, she set off after him.

Fred stood with his back against the trunk of an old tree which grew tall on top the Hill. One hand in his pocket as the other ran his fingers over the markings carved into it's wood by the Weasley family. One engraving in particular. A relatively fresh one where he had carved [Y/N]s name next to his own last Christmas to "officially" mark her as apart of the family.

He recalled the moment vividly. How she questioned his actions, wondering if he'll still love her the same 'down the road', not to regret this decision. "Nah, you're right. I won't love you the same. I'll love you more." He'd said. "But the real question is; will you love me, or are you just going to break my heart?" To be honest. He truly hadn't expected the latter.

He was drawn from his thoughts by the approaching sound of footsteps. Turning his head he rolled his eyes upon realising it was her. "Not now." He growled. "Yes now." She shot back at him standing firm in place.

She'd planned a whole monologue on the walk to him but now that she was here, eyes meeting his, she hadn't a damn clue what to say.

"Until I was 25, I thought the only response to 'I love you' was 'oh, crap!'" She blurted out. Fred looked at her quizzically as the words settled in the air. [Y/N]'s eyes shut for a moment, kicking herself. That wasn't how she intended for the conversation to go. "I'm-I can't say the words" she began again to which Fred scoffed. "Yeah. I gathered that much." "Fred, just shut the fuck up, and listen to me!" Her stare shot daggers into the boy and he found his attention unwavering from her words.

"I didn't have a normal upbringing. I didn't get what you have. I came from a family where love was a weapon. A tool for manipulation. Something that was withheld until you were useful. Something used to excuse shitty behaviour. I didn't get the warm Christmases and intimacy you got. Before you I wasn't sure I knew what love was. My whole life had been cold. Then when you showed up at my door that day it was like hot blood began pumping through my body for the first time. You felt like life when my whole existence has been death. That's when I knew I couldn't live without you. When I knew that I...I can't say it. The words. But not just to you, I can't say them to anyone. It feels unnatural like there's a rope tied around my throat and it suffocates me. And it kills me a little bit. To look into your eyes and know that I - that I still can't - may never ... fuck. I-" [Y/N]s hand came to cover her eyes as tears fell and heartbroken sobs escaped her body.

Fred reacted on instinct, by her side in a second, pulling her into his chest. A hand gripped her back as the other fisted into her hair. "I'm sorry" she cried as he soothed her.

Fred was fighting sobs of his own, feeling as her body shudder against his and she clung to him for support. Because if she didn't her knees would buckle and she'd fall.

"You have nothing to be sorry for. I-I had no idea this was...look at me." He held her shoulders taking half a step back to look at her. "I don't care if you never say the words." "But then why-" "I listened to the opinions of four prats who had no business sticking their noses in our relationship." [Y/N] chuckled sadly, wiping tears from her cheeks. "Before they said anything I honestly hadn't noticed because I knew, I know you love me. You don't have to tell me because you show me. It's in your kiss. In your eyes. Your laugh. Your nostrils as they flare when you yell at me after successfully pissing you off. Never be sorry. I shouldn't have gotten so worked up over nothing. Okay?" [Y/N] nodded in response, unable to form a sentence. Smiling sweetly his hand came to caress below her jaw."I love you." "Now you're just rubbing it in." Fred laughed, leaning down and pressing a kiss to her lips.

He's pulling away before [Y/N]s pulling him back by the collar of his shirt for a deep and passionate one. Soon breaking in dire need for air.

Her chest is heaving as she catches her breath. His eyes fall shut, pressing his head against hers gently. [Y/N]s eyes are searching his face. Why can't she just tell him? The words, those three stupid little words, are right there tearing at her throat. Wanting to be said. This is real. He is not her parents, not her toxic 'family'. He's Fred. Sweet, caring Fred. Her one and only. He's different.

She swallows hard, mouth going dry, as that familiar tightening takes hold. Trying desperately to rid herself of that strangling sensation that plagues her a trillion times a day. She's staring at him, panic coursing through her bloodstream. Her eyes clench shut as she tries to muster as much strength as she can. "I-" the words are right there. Her voice barely a whisper as she fights that rope. "I love you." [Y/N] gasps for air as a knot in the rope snaps. Eyes widening as her chest shudders before she's smiling. Fresh tears falling in relief and joy.

Fred's eyes spring open, gawking. Did she just...is he-did he imagine that? No. There's no way. "You...you-" "I love you." Her voice louder this time, more assured as a second knot snaps. He doesn't know how to react. Body and mind still processing.

Soon though he's grinning like a madman, spinning her in his arms, feeling happier than he thought possible. Placing her back on the ground both hands cup her face as his lips crash into hers.

They stay like that for a while, in one anothers arms. [Y/N]s kissing him tenderly as she pulls back to whisper the words once more, "I love you." He smiles cockily down at her before his expression shifts to one of mock surprise. "Oh, crap!" he laughs as [Y/N] rolls her eyes. "Ah, Humour based on my pain. Aha-ha-ha. You're such a bastard." She turns to walk off but he grabs her arm. Spinning her back against his chest as his other hand comes to the nape of her neck.

"Not so fast, Princess." He licks his lips smirking, voice low "say it again." She bites her lip suppressing a wide smile. "I love you." He places one final kiss before a wicked grin spreads over his face and he's quickly throwing her over his shoulder.

"Come on, love!" He starts running for the Burrow. "FRED!" [Y/N] squeals. "No time to waste! I told them I'd have to saying it before we leave." "You...oh my god, FRED! Did you place a bet on me!? You absolute GIT!"

"Love you too, sweetheart."

[captains-writing-desk]

Changes of Winter

Universe: Harry Potter

Character: Severus Snape

Type: F!Reader Insert (You, Yours)

Words: 4,020

Prompt: Hello- Idk if you're still taking requests for Snape but could you possibly do one kinda based off the song Heather by Conan Gray? Like reader and snape are students and she likes him but hes too hooked on Lily to notice? Maybe even ending with like some fluff and them getting together in the end? Idk- up to you!   And sorry if you weren't taking requests I dont mean to be a bother. (Sometimes I mix posts up where people say they are taking requests and not) 😅

 

Notes: Am I obsessed with snow and winter??? Maybe... Are y’all obsessed with Snape? YES, I HAVE SO MANY SNAPE REQUESTS! 😂 I haven’t proofread this guys I’m sorry! Some platonic Lupin in here for you too!

Enjoy!

-

 

“Are you cold?” You were torn from watching your breath disappear with the cold but gentle breeze. Your feet shifted and creaked in the snow as you turned to see Severus approach you with a book tucked into his chest.

“Severus,” You gasped softly and smiled, taking a moment to release your breath slowly, “It is snowing.” You stated the obvious as if he didn’t notice and he smirked at your sarcasm.

“I can see that. Where’s your scarf?” He frowned when you averted your eyes then turned towards the lake.

“Out there somewhere.” You shrugged and shivered the cold from your bones.

“Why is it out there?” He ducked to catch your gaze and you glanced sheepishly at him.

“I may have said some things to some people in defence yesterday. So they may have decided to push me and my scarf into the lake...” You smiled awkwardly and he sighed.

“Is that why a certain someone went to the infirmary with a broken nose last night?” He raised his brow.

“Yes. Yes it is. I have detention later so...” You didn’t quite get away with your crimes and he sighed again as he always did when you got yourself in trouble, it almost got longer as each year was passing. You tried to laugh it off but a shiver crept over you instead. Severus saw this and removed his scarf then held it out to you. You stared at the scarf draped over his palms and tried to decline but he stepped forwards and stapled it around your shoulders instead, flicking one end over your shoulder to loop around your neck. His scent immediately filled your nostrils and ran through every fibre of your being as you subconsciously hugged it closer to you.

“Thank you.” You muttered through the fabric, hiding the huge grin plastered across your face. For a moment you had not locked gaze with each other as he earnestly muttered a ‘You’re welcome.’ Yet, as quick as the gaze had lasted, his eyes fell behind you and his whole form softened. You took a moment to register his distraction and followed his gaze to a plume of red hair that fluttered gently against the shoulders of none other than Lily Evans.

Even you were taken aback by her beauty sometimes, you couldn’t really blame Severus or anyone else for that fact in being completely enthralled by her. You couldn’t help the jealousy you felt and how you envied her. You wished Severus looked at you like that. You wished you could distract him simply by walking into his view. You wished you were Lily Evans.

Then again, you watched James trail behind her, pushing every compliment under the sun at her. That you could do without if you were her but you weren’t her and never would be, especially in Severus’ eyes.

Her eyes flickered over to Severus and she smiled, adjusted her course and made her way over. Your chin fell to your chest and you sighed as she greeted you both. Severus returned his sentiments but before you could even half ass some form of greeting, James spoke up.

“Aren’t you supposed to be staying away from me?” He puffed his chest out and you turned and lifted your head to meet him.

“You came to me.” You folded your arms as you stood your ground.

“You did break his nose.” Lily stated, not defensively but casually.

“He pushed me into the lake.” You defended yourself.

“Because you punched him.” She stated again and you stifled a bemused laugh and looked at James who saw he had been caught in a lie.

“Is that what you’re telling people?” You laughed once again, “Is it too embarrassing to tell people that I was standing up for my friend,” You motioned briefly to Severus, “as you belittled him and you got so angry that you pushed me into the lake? So hard that I broke the ice and cracked my wand. Might even have drowned if Remus hadn’t pulled me out.” You stared him down- hard, making him regret ever bringing it up in the first place as Lily turned slowly to him.

“You said it was in self defence.” She folded her arms.

“It was!” He insisted.

“Of what? Your pride?” She scolded him and they started arguing so you turned to Severus again.

“You were defending me?” He spoke immediately.

��Of course. I don’t like people talking about you like that.” You cleared your throat awkwardly. He opened his mouth to say something but his gaze once again wandered over to Lily, which honestly at this point was annoying. She had started walking away, telling James to leave her alone and that she had just wanted to talk to Severus in peace. You looked back to Severus who stared longingly after her, almost pained.

“Go.” You told him and after a beat, he was following her leaving you alone to sigh through the pain you felt.

-

You understood he had known Lily a little longer than you, but she wasn’t really there for him as much. You assumed that with each passing year he would get over her a little more but not once did his admiration for her dwindle. Even as she got together with James he still felt a burning desire for her.

Now that they were together, Severus had less time to spend with her, uninterrupted time anyway and he would find himself moping about it around you. He would never expressly talk about it, come to think of it he had never even mentioned the fact that he even liked her but you knew it and you knew what pain he was feeling just by looking at him because you were feeling that same pain. The only difference being that he was bitter about it, his pain made him bitter and resentful which was difficult to deal with. Half of the time you would tell him to let things be and not be so bitter but he would either end up storming off or resigning himself to complete silence for the rest of the time spent together.

The more this happened, the more you thought about distancing yourself from him, as painful as it would be it had to be less painful than watch him fall and break for another woman that wasn’t you. There were times you were almost successful in breaking away but watching his heart break with nobody to fall on felt worse. Really you were all he had, not that either of you really knew it.

You found yourself feeling more alone despite deciding to stay close with him still, especially when he would get angry and storm off, leaving you alone for a few days until he decided to speak to you again.

 

It was one of those days where Severus was off elsewhere, possibly cursing you judging by how your day had gone. Everything seemed to have gone wrong, nothing major but all these little things had built up which in turn built up your frustration. In your free period you decided to sit by the lake to read and breath in the autumn air that was quickly being chased away by the sting of winter.

“Bit cold down here for you to be sat on the ground isn’t it?” The voice of Remus Lupin made you jump and you leapt to your feet.

“I came here for peace until you came.” You put your hand on your hip.

“I came here for peace too.” He took a step towards you and you stepped back. He raised his hands as if he was taking a wild animal. “Calm down.” He chuckled.

“Forgive me for not trusting any of you snakes around lakes.” You weren’t really being rude but you did have a point. You found Remus to be the more tolerable of his little group, he was paired with you in some of your classes and you found he had a pretty decent sense of humour.

“I don’t blame you really.” He laughed and sat down next to where you had been perched against a tree, pulled out a book then patted the space next to him. You rolled your eyes and went and sat next to him, flipping your own book to the page you had been on before. You both read in silence for a while until he sighed.

“I am sorry that they’re rude to you.” He turned to you with furrowed brows.

“So you keep saying.” You spoke flatly, not bringing your eyes away from your book. Truthfully he would always apologise for anything that happened to you on behalf of his friends.

“I do mean it though.” He said sincerely but what difference would that make.

“No offence Remus but it means nothing coming from someone who did nothing. Nothing to me yes, but do you say anything about it to them? I don’t suppose you do. Besides, I’m not the one who should be getting the apology in the first place.” He knew you meant Severus. Severus got it worse than anyone in that school.

“I know...” He whispered and you fell into silence while reading again.

He walked you back to the castle and to your next class with him, then to the hall for lunch afterwards.

Shortly after you sat down and bid your farewells, Severus slid himself into the space next to you.

“Were you just chatting with Remus Lupin?” He asked immediately.

“Welcome back.” You simply said, waiting for his inevitable apology before doing the same thing again a week later.

 

-

Winter had come in thick and fast as it did every year, but seemingly quicker this year. Perhaps because it was the final year and not long until you would be done for good.

“Does she even know?” You interrupted Severus’ thoughts as he watched James and Lily dance at the Yule ball.

“Know what? I thought you weren’t coming.” He tore his eyes away from her for a split second to glance at you, taking in your dressy appearance and you sighed.

“You’ve been badgering me all week to come so you wouldn’t be alone. It’s our last year here you know and there’s not much left of it at that.” You twiddled your thumbs nervously as you watched him carefully and leaned up against the wall.

“What are you getting at?” He suddenly snapped his head towards you and you averted your eyes momentarily, trying to bide your own time and calm your nerves somehow.

“I don’t know. It’s just been a long time Severus. Perhaps it’s time to let go.” You barely whispered but he knew what you said, perhaps ignoring it this time because it was Christmas and he did not want to storm off on you now. Though in reality you were perhaps talking more to yourself than you were to him in the first place.

A shadow cast itself between the two of you then and you looked to see Remus stood to the side of you.

“Can I help you?” You asked a little amused at the odd smile that graced his lips.

“I came to ask you for a dance.” He announced almost smugly.

“Is this a joke?” You looked around him for his friends, trying to catch a glimpse of them snickering away somewhere.

“No.” He had a goofy smile on his face that you were still trying to decide if it was genuine or not..

“Drunk?” You narrowed your eyes in amusement.

“A little.” He admitted with a chuckle.

“That explains it.” You laughed and glanced at Severus who still had his eyes on his prize but was listening in for sure because he rolled his eyes at Remus’ demeanour.

“Aw come on, I would actually like to dance with you. I thought we were getting on!” He slurred slightly and you started to wonder where he was finding whatever alcohol he had been getting at, perhaps it would have helped your nerves.

“Yeah I guess you’re right.” You had to admit you had become quite accustomed to his company.

“Yes! And I saved your life once so let’s say you owe me.” He flicked a finger gun my way and I laughed again.

“Alright. So if I get up and dance with you, and it’s all one big joke, you know I’ll break your arm right?” You shifted your body in preparation to follow him.

“I promise you, I just want to dance.” He said earnestly and held his hand out to you. With a quick glance at Severus who was still engrossed elsewhere, you took his hand.

“Don’t say I didn’t warn you.” You pushed yourself from the wall and saw Severus out the corner of your eye finally turn to look at you as Remus towed you away.

That had been the last time you had seen Severus as your friend before school ended, the next time you had seen him you had gotten into a big argument with him about the whole ordeal. He wasn’t happy that you’d made friends with the likes of him let alone danced with him. You said he was being stupid and you defended Remus for not playing a part in the teasing and bullying but as you had said to Remus, he hadn’t tried to stop it, so you supposed Severus had every right to be mad.

 

-

 

If you’d have known he would end up being a Professor at Hogwarts with you perhaps you wouldn’t have accepted the position but then again, Dumbledore practically begged you to come and it couldn’t all be bad could it? It would be easy enough to avoid him or ignore him for the most part, aside from your gut practically kicking you every time you saw him.

 

There was a full moon out and you needed moon water so you chucked a warm robe on and meandered down to the lake, perhaps your favourite place despite almost dying in it. You opened your pouch of empty vials and crouched by the water, taking your time to carefully bottle the water and take in the crisp autumn air of September.

A shadow came over you and you moved slightly to glance at the reflection in the water.

“Severus.” Your heart stopped for a moment and you almost choked on the breath you didn’t even know you held. You stared at each other through the reflection of the lake for a while, neither knowing what to say. You were shocked he had approached you and perhaps he was a little shocked too, only that he was bold enough to do it.

You studied his features that had grown stronger as he had matured and he studied your own features, each of you coming to rest in the eyes that had not changed really, only that his held a different expression as they watched you now. Mind you it had been a while since you’d seen eachother.

He crouched beside you and held his hand out beside you, after a moment you passed him one of your empty vials which he promptly filled as you placed the bag between you so he could help. A silence fell between you for a while. Not an awkward silence but it was fairly jarring.

Once your vials were full he pulled out a different shape and sized vial and rolled it between his fingers before finally looking at you to tell him what you wanted in those. You looked at the vial then slowly at him, finally seeing not just a reflection.

“Mugwort.” You practically whispered and he raised his brow.

“I have Mugwort you know.” He pursed his lips.

“I like to do my own foraging. Besides I’m willing to bet you’re the kind of man who resents anyone coming to you for supplies.” You mirrored his expression.

“I know.” He thought for a moment, “You’re right, yes.” A very low chuckle escaped him, almost as quiet as a breeze but you heard it and things felt almost normal- too normal. You could feel yourself melting for him all over again, not that you didn’t melt when you saw him around but the acknowledgement of eachother changed the whole thing and it scared you. The small smile that had graced your lips watching him chuckle crept away, as if your memory had been wiped.

“You should know... I..” He trailed off and looked at the ground between you with his brows furrowed as he tried to speak. He took a breath and calmed himself before looking dead into your eyes.

“I really made a mess with you. I wish I hadn’t gotten so angry for no reason.” This was his attempt at making amends- beginning to at least.

“I understand.” You assured him you bore no I’ll will against him for his anger, after all you had understood why he was angry.

“It’s not just that really, I suppose. I wish I’d seen you more.” He was being very cryptic. What he was saying was difficult for him and though didn’t quite know what he was saying, you understood that he was trying to talk sensitively which was hard for him.

“Right?” You pressed him, ignoring the knot in your stomach.

“I’ve missed you.” He sighed, deciding he had said enough for now but it wasn’t the end of it. You on the other hand were lost. You hadn’t expected something like that from him but not only that, all hopes of forgetting him and moving on vanished like a shooting star. Would you let yourself be drawn back in by him? Of course you would. Who were you kidding?

“I missed you too.” You practically clawed for breath trying to respond to him then he smiled. A small smile but it was there, and it was beautiful .

 

-

For almost a month you we talking regularly like old friends again but something seemed wrong. There were some things he wasn’t telling you and you knew it. You didn’t want to ask him nor did you want to pressure him but you became increasingly agitated be this niggling feeling in the pit of your stomach that something was off but you pushed it down further and further but you felt the need to be close to him, increasingly so. Perhaps it was your lovesick ways coming back stronger everyday though deep down you knew it was something else. You asked him to spend Hallowe’en with you rather randomly although he knew it was perhaps your favourite time of the year so he agreed.

The feeling you had got worse and worse that week until the Hallowe’en feast came and it disappeared completely. Even the fact that Severus was not in attendance hadn’t phased you much because you would see him that night but the night came and you did not see him. You decided to take a trip to his room to see what was up but on your way there an overwhelming sense of dread and misery washed over you, stopping you dead in your tracks and clinging to the bannister of the staircase for support. You heaved yourself to stand straight and found yourself marching to the Headmasters office where you slumped against the door and knocked repeatedly. The door opened and your arm flew across the frame to keep yourself steady.

“Are you alright my dear?” Immediately Albus’ arms came to support you.

“Something is very wrong. I came to find Severus, I don’t know why I’m here.” You were oddly calm for someone practically panicking internally. It was an odd sensation.

“Come inside.” He led you into his office and sat you down asking why you thought something was wrong.

“I can feel it. I’ve felt this odd sense of dread for a while now until this morning when it left. Not five minutes ago did it come back worse than ever and I feel... Pained.” You thought about the feeling for a moment. Yes it was pain you felt now and Albus’ stared at you for a long time until he closed his eyes.

“It isn’t my place to speak for Severus so you must ask him but I can tell you this, He is going to need you more than he ever has now. Not as a second choice but as the only one he has ever needed truly.” You were absolutely baffled by what he said. It made no sense but all you knew was that Severus needed you.

“Should I go to him?” You whispered and he shook his head.

“I would advise you not to. He will return soon then I will take my leave.” You nodded slowly as he spoke.

“Might I stay here until he returns?” You asked flatly and stared at his desk.

“Of course.” He touched your hand.

 

 

You had fallen asleep at some point waiting for him, the numbness putting you to sleep but you woke up to Severus gently touching your shoulder with no sign of Albus.

“I’m sorry I missed Hallowe’en with you.” He sounded exhausted.

“It’s alright. What happened to you?” You had your head tilted back and looked directly into his eyes.

“Come.” He instructed and walked you to his living quarters where he sat you down next to him on a small sofa. He explained to you that Lily and James had been murdered by Lord Voldemort. He continued to explain his own hand in the scheme and some things you’d never expected nor wanted to hear. Though you were glad he seemed on the right path.

“I’m sorry, Severus. I know she meant the world to you.” You gently placed your hand in his in comfort but he flipped his palm up to take hold of your hand instead.

“I loved her, yes. She was not the one for me however. I ignored everything from you, even when it was my own pain I felt being mirrored back to me and I only came to realise that when you left to dance with that Lupin boy. I was angry at myself for not seeing you there all those years and I still took it out on you, as if you hadn’t tried. I suppose I’m telling you this now so no matter what you think about my choices right now, at least one of us got to say something.” You’d never heard him ramble like that before, only when he was arguing but this was a different type.

“It’s a lot to take in, Sev. I can’t deny that I’m happy you told me all that and frustrated that it took so long to get to this moment plus with all the extra information.” You paused for a moment and watched him retract his excitement from the situation. “I’ll adjust though. For now let’s take it one step at a time though?” You proposed and he nodded, a small smile creeping across his face but it was shadowed by the events of earlier.

“I’ll stay with you.” You whispered and leaned over to him, gently wrapping your arms over his shoulders and kissing his cheek. Neither of you knew how long you could stay with him but one step at a time right?

[tundrainafrica]

All the HCs and side materials aside, who do you think was closer to Levi, Erwin or Hange? While there was this acker host thing with Erwin but it was debunked. Meanwhile he hasn't even acknowledged Hange's sacrifice even once so theres that too.

Oh god, so yes I have wanted to answer this ask for a while, thought of pushing it until night time today but I got locked out of the office though thirty minutes before my shift so let me just cope with the stress by giving my feedback on this because I feel like I have already explained my side to a lot of people but I’d rather have it immortalized in my blog at this point. 

Okay first question

Who do you think was closer to Levi, Erwin or Hange?

I find this question thought provoking but I don’t like these types of questions because they tend to start fights? And they tend to cause unnecessary drama both in real life and online. And relationships are so hard to quantify like of course there's a clear line between acquaintance and best friend but the nuances between siblings, lover, best friend and parent are a little more complex because we all have a lot of people we care about deeply but can we easily say who we love more?

(this is still a great question though anon, thank you for asking it.)

It’s literally like the epitome of asking ur parents “who’s your favorite child” or “who do you love more your best friend for so many years or your girl friend of like two years who you met, clicked then realized they were the love of your life.” Who will you save when in a burning building? your wife? Or your parents? Or your siblings? Your best friend?

Such problematic questions which I think a lot of us in our lives would rather never have to answer, especially in front of our loved ones. 

I am not making assumptions about what type of relationship Levi had with Erwin or what type of relationship Levi had with Hange in this post because I don’t wanna start shipping wars in this very peaceful website. (But, I ship Levihan and will probably die with this ship close to my heart so you can make assumptions about my opinions on Levi and Hange’s relationship based on that.) 

But the point is, Erurihan has always been special. Levi held a lot of people close to his heart over the years but I found that trio to have notably been the closest and Erwin and Hange have changed Levi’s lives the most. 

Would Levi have played favorites between them?? NO. Because Erwin and Hange were such different people that putting them side by side and thinking “who did Levi love more”  is like comparing apples to oranges, putting them side by side and thinking which fruit tastes better.

Because Hange and Erwin offered different things to Levi. Literally, Erwin became that next purpose for Levi after he lost his two best friends. He saw wonder in Erwin’s eyes, he saw a leader, he saw someone who can guide him to a bigger purpose and he trusted Erwin so deeply and Erwin trusted him back and even as a Levihan fan, I might actually admit that early on in the series, Levi was probably much closer to Erwin than Hange. Fine I admit it he probably was. 

But Hange offered something else to Levi. While Erwin offered a path, Hange offered wonder, curiosity. She offered Levi things to think about beyond the survey corps job. I mean Erwin was practically married to his job right. Hange was practically married to her job too but I found Hange more... approachable? Warmer overall? I mean if you actually see Eren’s interactions with the three of them or you watch from Season 1, you would realize that Hange was really the most approachable survey corps veteran from the start (other than petra).

And I think Levi really appreciated that part of her and saw it as something worth entertaining. He completely believed in Erwin, Erwin gave him a purpose in life but Hange was the one who added color to it, she actually added something beyond that purpose. She made him feel things he probably wouldn’t have felt elsewhere. 

Annoyance? Anger? Defeat at how someone could be so enthusiastic and dense? Curiosity? Someone who might have made him think that maybe, soldiering and survey corps-ing and almost being eaten by titans everyday wasn’t so bad. And maybe there is joy in the domestic in betweens?  

Another thing, here’s what Hange had that Erwin didn’t have, she had the luxury of time, she also had the luxury of circumstances on her side, of having been the only one left out of the veterans for Levi to cling on to. This made it more natural for a deeper friendship and relationship to develop between the two. So if Hange is closer to Levi than Erwin is, then it’s because of the circumstances that it made it so, post season 3.

If Erwin lived, the dynamics of erurihan would have definitely developed differently. But I never considered the possibiliy of Erwin living instead of Hange since Levi picking Armin just felt really in character and right for me. So yeah, it’ll probably stay a shallow speculation until the end haha.  

And about this second question...

“Meanwhile he hasn't even acknowledged Hange's sacrifice even once so theres that too.” 

Yo. Just a reminder, Hange died like roughly an hour or two ago manga time. Levi is literally internally bleeding, the shit show just never stopped for a second and for some reason people are expecting Levi to give a nod at Hange’s death. 

Okay yes, she did mean a lot to him. But lemme give you the explanation which has been sticking to me for a really long time.  

Levi is clowning. Like literally, I don’t think he has even acknowledged that Hange is dead yet. We have concrete hints that he is. After ‘dedicate your heart’ he just walked away and didn’t look back. It’s in the fact that he didn’t even look out the window to watch her die and in the fact that his last words were “see you later” like I’m pretty sure he’s thinking to himself “Yeah, like I know she is probably gonna die objectively but… Just, what if… she lives?? 

Just like all of us Hange stans in the website yo with our beast titan theory, Levi is just the biggest clown of us all (since he is the biggest Hange stan anyway...).  He decided (unconsciously or consciously) to ‘pretend’ that Hange’s still alive maybe until the end of the war just so that he could possibly function at least (?). 

I mean I’m pretty sure we’ve all done this in our lives. Especially when we’ve lost someone we’ve loved dearly or maybe when we’re saying good bye to someone in the airport where we’re just laughing our heads off with that person all the way until the departure gate when they say good bye and we only break down when we’re home alone. Like I’m pretty sure it’s similar for people who have lost someone, kept themselves busy with funeral preparations and memorial services and only start experiencing the loss when they go back to normal life and realize they have to clean out someone’s bedroom or fix their daily routine to adjust to the loss of that loved one.

Maybe Levi will finally acknowledge it when everything goes back to normal and he finds Hange’s office empty and he realizes he doesn’t have his buddy to have tea with every night. And if Yams decides not to write or insert that, I’ll probably just speculate it myself and keep this theory alive. 

I actually wrote a drabble about this a long time ago. You can read it here.

Anyway, thanks for reading! 

[hercleverboy]

turning page

spencer reid x reader 

genre > fluff 

wc > 1.6k

spencer has loved the reader for as long as could remember. when they meet again years later by chance, will everything fall back into place? 

Spencer had loved Y/N for as long as he could remember.

He recalled how they’d met when they started school together. She was his only real friend, his best friend. They walked to and from school together, he taught her how to play chess, and sometimes even let her win. She always defended him from the bullies who relentlessly tormented him. He’d never forget that she was the one who’d untied him from the goal post his tormenters had strapped him  to humiliate him. How she’d offered him her jacket, walked him home. She’d even offered to let him stay the night at her house, aware of his mother’s condition. He’d politely refused, but was also so grateful that she’d bothered to ask. They were young, but he knew he loved her. 

When he moved away for college, it was one of the hardest decisions he’d ever had to make, leaving her behind. He wanted to ask her to come with him but he knew she couldn’t leave, even if she wanted to. She had family and commitments she had to uphold. (”I can’t just drop everything and go, Spence. But if I could I’d be with you in a heartbeat.”) The last time he hugged her, he relished in the feeling of his skin on hers, tried desperately not to think about how this may be the last time he’s fortunate enough to hold her in his arms. They loved one another, that much was certain. 

but it went unspoken, the fear of rejection, the innate human need to protect themselves from being hurt. 

So he’d said goodbye to her, and for years after he wished he’d told her he loved her before he left. She lingered in the back of his mind as he grew up, still evading his thoughts from time to time. His heart would still race at the thought of her, at the crystal clear memories he still held so close to him.

It was four years after joining the BAU that he met her again. Completely by chance, in a random coffee shop a block from his apartment. Initially, he couldn’t believe it was her. She still had the same smile, the one he could still remember as if he last saw it yesterday. She was still so beautiful, in fact, her beauty almost put his memory to shame. Eidetic or not, it couldn’t possibly encompass her beauty. It radiated from her like the sun, and he just knew he had to talk to her again.

“Y/N?” He’d asked, the nerves creeping up his throat and making him nauseous.

She turned around, her confused gaze leaving her features and being replaced with one of shock as the realisation hit her. “Spencer?”

He nodded with a timid grin, and she smiled. “I’m so glad to see you! It’s been so long, how are you?”

And they talked for hours, just as they had all them years ago. They chatted and laughed as if not a day had passed since they’d last spoken. As though they’d simply picked up where they left off.

It didn’t take Spencer long to realise that now she was back in his life, he wasn’t going to let her go so easily.

It only took him two months to ask her out.

Nothing prepared me for

What the privilege of being yours would do

After an entire year together, Spencer still couldn’t seem to comprehend just how lucky he was. Every morning he got to wake up beside her, his girl, he thanked every star for giving him a woman so incredible, so loving and compassionate.

It was a privilege to love her, and to receive her love in return.

Whenever he woke up early on days that he knew were going to be hectic, he liked to take a moment to watch her as she slept. Her head would rest on his chest, soft snores leaving her slightly parted lips. He’d noticed how the early morning sunlight that streamed through a gap in the curtains seemed to perfectly frame her natural beauty. He let his eyes travel over her face, remembering the place of every freckle, how her eyelashes brushed so delicately against her cheeks. He buried the memories deep in the crevices of his mind, hoping he’d never have to face a day where he couldn’t remember those details. The details he treasured so greatly.

On days like that, he would think back to all those years he’d lived without her (and he couldn’t understand how he’d managed it, now his life would be so empty and incomplete without her warmth). He would think back to the late nights that he stared up at the ceiling, recalling conversations they’d had many years before, analysing them, berating himself for letting her go.

He recalled how he’d cried one night, when it finally seemed to hit him just how much he missed her, and how the chances of finding her when he had no idea where to start were astronomically small. He was so sure he’d missed his shot with her, that he’d had his chance already, that he wasn’t lucky enough to be given a second one.

Luckily for Spencer, the universe had other plans. (It does work in mysterious ways, you see.)

Every kiss is a cursive line

Every touch is a redefining phrase

Spencer learned to indulge himself in every moment they shared. To really take in how her lips felt against his, how they made him feel so safe and happy and home.

He thinks he would kiss her forever if he could.

When a case was rough and he just needed her to hold him, to press light kisses to his forehead and assure him that everything was okay.

He truly treasured every touch, no matter how small, every kiss, no matter how quick. In his line of work, the little things are what mattered at the end of the day.

She was what mattered.

Y/N was everything to Spencer. His only constant, the one who held him through pain and anger and upset and never questioned or ridiculed him. He knew how important his job was, and he knew that every day he went to work he was making someone’s life better, he knew that his work mattered.

But he also knew that jobs would come and go, that he could easily find another job elsewhere, it would be no hassle at all. He would never find another her, however. She was it for him. He’d seen relationships crumble because of the job, he’d watched Hotch lose his wife because of the job and he knew he never wanted to lose Y/N to the job either.

He’d quit the BAU tomorrow if she asked.

(But she would never ask.)

I surrender who I've been for who you are

For nothing makes me stronger than your fragile heart

On the really bad days when all he needed was her arms around him, for her soothing voice to fill his ears, he realised exactly what he’d give up for her. For the love of his life, he not sure there’s anything he wouldn’t do. For her.

He recognised how his heart swelled with true happiness whenever he was with her. He recalled the time they decorated their apartment together for Halloween, Y/N had been hanging decorations from the ceiling when Spencer had spooked her. She’d squealed and given him a death glare that was soon broken by a fit of giggles as he swarmed her with tickles and kisses. (She could never stay mad at him, and Spencer was sure that her laughter could cure any illness and right any wrongs.)

He found strength in her. In how she would gently place her hand over his when they were in loud public places and he began to get anxious. In how she would send him reassuring smiles from across the room whenever she watched him give a guest lecture to a room full of aspiring agents, which would immediately soothe his nerves. In how she’d let him rest his head on her chest on the nights where he needed immediate reassurance that she was safe in the form of her heartbeat.

He always worried that he wasn’t as good of a boyfriend as she deserved, as she always seemed to do more for him than he did for her.

(She’d shut that down quickly by shaking her head and whispering, “Spence, you do enough by just being here with me. I’ll never ask for anything more from you.”)

Spencer guessed he was just lucky like that.

Although Spencer had never been a lucky man, he didn’t even really believe in luck. To Spencer, everything could be explained scientifically. He didn’t like to think that things in his life were a result of luck, a result of pure chance. He didn’t believe in such a factor until he met Y/N.

Because how else could he explain how someone like her wanted, loved, someone like him?

If it wasn’t luck, he didn’t know what it was.

But he’d like to think that him and Y/N had come together on their own. That there was no luck or change involved, no will of the universe wanting them together.

No. He chose to believe that they were simply meant to be. That their love could withstand the weight of the world and not crumble.

And for Spencer, that was more than enough.

Though we're tethered to the story we must tell

When I saw you, well I knew we'd tell it well

With a whisper we will tame the vicious seas

Like a feather bringing kingdoms to their knees

[cavvaje]

Hearth and Rime | Ch. 1

Pairing: M!Eivor x Reader

Summary: Eivor has had a rough day and you make him feel better :)

Words: 1600~

Genre: Fluff, Comfort?

Warnings: Spoilers for end of Cent Arc! | Somewhat suggestive fade to black

Note: Still a bit new to writing fics, so sorry if its a bit rough around the edges!

I actually finished this in time for valentines but just kept editing it and being too nervous to actually post it? Then decided to retake all the photos lol... 

This is also a continuation of the first fic I put up, BUT you don’t need to read it to understand (it was like 200 words). Here’s a link!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The home is modest for its outwards appearance. According to Eivor, the last occupants were runaway Saxons, who fled the day after they saw him in the area. They didn’t leave much behind, but it’s serviceable.

“Smells good!” Eivor stands by a cooking pot in the corner, setting down the bright torch in his hand. He turns to you with a cheeky look.

“Here,” He says, untying his cloak. The Viking comes to you as you stand in front of the doorway. His cloak needs to go over, and so you squeeze your head through the hole. “This should help you warm up.” 

Gentle arms reach around your shoulders, and instinctually, your arms begin to trace his waist to his back. Adrenaline surges in cold shivers: from your arms through to your spine. Your face is practically buried in the nook between his neck and shoulder. You hold each other a moment, checking off an imaginary checklist of things that make him real. His warmth, his scent, his breath...

A tight tug wakes you up; the cloak has been set, albeit loosely. He lets go of the embrace. Even as he leaves, the cloak maintains his warmth.

“It smells like blood…”

He chuckles lightly, “Does it now?... Surprise?” he flips his axe in one hand, starts drying the rainwater off the metal, then sets it down. He motions towards the steaming pot. “Can I dig in?”

You stare at him as he pulls off the bracers and his hidden blade. He looks back a moment later, puzzled.

“I missed you, Eivor.” You say, plainly.

“Ah…” he pulls you in for a proper hug this time; his arms hold you tight. “I missed you too.” 

“Mmm… what’s bothering you Drengr?”

You feel the sigh heavily from the movement of his chest against yours. “Please, let me eat…”

“Of course! Sorry. Must’ve been a long trip...” 

“No no, don’t be.” He lets go, but locks his eyes on yours, and gives a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “I’ll explain, I won’t be like Sigurd.” 

“Like Sigurd?” 

His weight falls heavy on the stool, as he grabs a bowl. 

You pace towards him slowly, a hand gentle on his left shoulder. “...Did you find him?”

“Not exactly.” 

You feel his rage beginning to simmer on your hand, but it sizzles down quickly. You wait for a few minutes as he ravages his stew, and then places the empty bowl down calmly and precisely. 

“We found an arm.” 

“Shit…”

“Aye, shit.”

He turns to you suddenly, his eyes focused. “Don’t tell the ravens. Please.” He scans your expression. “Can I trust you to this?”

You nod.

“..Thank you.” He sighs and slumps down onto the table.

You stand idly, unsure of how to proceed. The silence fills the room like a cursed fog.

“Perhaps we should talk more in the morning? After you’ve rested from your journey?” you perk up, sitting down next to him. Your hand moves to the Viking’s back reassuringly, and he arches to greet it. “For tonight, let me take care of you, ok?”

He stifles a small chuckle and looks at you earnestly. “That sounds great.”

You smile and get up from your seat. He follows, holds your hands, and leans in close. “Thank Freyja I found you…” His eyes meet yours. You put your hand up to his scarred cheek and… after a moment of hesitation, kiss him. He tastes like a paradise gritted by blood and steel, or maybe it’s the venison... A kiss that feels like a surging tide effortlessly enveloping you. His hands move to wrap around your waist and the back of your neck, and as you break the kiss, it moves back to fall on your cheek. 

He lets out a satisfied breath and slowly removes his hands as well, instead moving them to hold yours. “I needed that.” His voice barely a whisper, yet still raspy and impassioned. 

You coyly move away, tracing your fingers over his own as you leave. “Come… get comfy. Let me help you away with the stresses of your life, Wolf-Kissed.” You begin to move towards the other end of the room.

“Are you just telling me to take off my clothes, lover?” he returns, just as coy, but begins to remove his top anyway. His now shirtless figure is darkened against the light of the fire.

“And you? It’s only fair…” His voice and eyes gleam with a newfound playfulness.

“Ah… but my cloak is so heavy…”

He quickly moves to uncloak you, then slower to unclothe. His lightly calloused hands ‘accidentally’ feel your stomach and arms as you two connect in this growing heat. Both of you a little more exposed, you sit on the bearskin by the bed, absorbing each other’s presence. 

“New scar?” A faded but deep red streak across the top of his wrist into the forearm. He smiles and shrugs. You feel it… still a bit fresh. “It looks good on you.” 

He traces it with his other hand in empty thought, while you grab a nearby satchel containing medicinal herbs. He tries his best not to wince as you apply your treatment... he doesn’t wince once. He’s simply watching you in admiration. 

“What’s that look for? Something wrong?” You ask, knowing the answer.

"You are stunning. Like a painting, framed in a lantern-lit gold. In comparison to you, even its fire seems dull and cold...” 

You shove his shoulder playfully and he laughs, but his eyes stay on you to look for your smile, and he finds it, blushing. He looks proud of himself. Bastard. 

You get behind him and slowly begin to unbraid his hair. It’s matted in parts, likely from blood and dirt. You move him to an empty spot in the room and begin to wash his hair with a nearby water basin, trying not to get him too wet...

“Mmph, you treat me too well…” He mumbles.

“Only what you deserve, and well, much more than just this,”

“...Why’d you say that?” his voice is sweet and innocent. You laugh in surprise.

“What? Eivor, you’re the leader of our clan! At least until Sigurd comes back...” You watch as his head swoops down in thought. You place your hand on his shoulder cautiously. “Hey… what’s this about?”

He doesn’t respond, and you continue to work through his hair. Eventually, though, you decide to break the silence. 

“Why exactly… did you want to meet away from Ravensthorpe?” 

You think back to the letter you got, Synin being a talented messenger bird. He never mentioned why you were to meet here, except that he wanted to meet first for a romantic getaway before he was whisked off elsewhere. At first, that was enough, but now...

“I just wanted to see you, is that too much to ask for?” he retorted.

“Eivor…”

“Fine. Why do you think I asked then?”

You pause. “Honestly, I thought you were gonna have a private issue that needed taking care of, one that needs my particular skill set…”

He looks at you with wild eyes and a smile about to be broken into laughter. “Well! I suppose that too!” he laughs. 

“What? No! I mean if you needed someone, you know...” You imitate a neck being sliced. He laughs again. You slap his shoulder.

His laugh slowly trickles out, and he returns to his thousand-yard stare after a moment, but his mouth moves. “I think… I just needed a break from it all. Just for a moment.” He looks back at you. “With you.”

…You resist the urge to defuse the moment and hug him tightly from behind. “Well if you need anything else, I’m all ears.” 

He shakes his head and gives a quick kiss on your cheek. “Let’s save that for tomorrow...” 

He pauses. 

"Because tonight..." He turns to you and puts his arms over your shoulders. His face slowly approaches yours— and you make eye contact, your face clearly anticipating the worst. He nearly laughs but quickly turns to whisper into your ear. "I have other plans..." he smiles, and lightly nibbles on your earlobe, pulling it ever so slightly. This is not what you meant by ‘all ears’. The actual sensation is nice enough, but the sudden waves of euphoria that washes through your headspace is what makes you a little dizzy. 

"H-hey, I'm nearly done with your hair..." You manage to say, barely. He smiles both warm yet seductive, then turns around to let you finish.

As you finish up with his hair, he gives you a sweet look followed by a grateful kiss. It was a... mostly calming activity. As you get up, he childishly hops on the fur bed with a thud. You turn away to tidy up. However, a shuffling sound catches your attention.

He’s striking a pose... one eyebrow raised. He extends forward his hand and winks at you. 

“Come… play with your Drengr, love…” he recites dramatically. 

You stare at him, incredulous, then laugh in protest when he grabs your arm. He yanks you in... you fall, barely lit by the low lantern light, into your love dance.

~

Sleeping next to him is a warmth you always regret not cherishing more. Just his presence makes this cold and dangerous land feel safe. His fingers trace your arm ever so slightly— not enough to wake you, but just enough to send tingles rushing through to your brain. You return the favor and he smiles surprised, but welcome in his half-sleep. 

…Time passes immeasurably through the night, as it always does. So when all you feel is a vacuum of cold air rushing in, you aren't sure what time it is. You try to open your eyes... you see him, barely.

But your eyelids hang heavy, and you fall back asleep.

Note: haha get it “barely” I hope this was ok and the warnings+genre were accurate! I didn’t wanna put earlobe nibbling as a warning so lmao. Also I hate small cottages and I’m never taking photos in them again.

If anyone has any advice/feedback I’d actually really love to hear it! Especially about how to make Eivor’s voice feel more accurate, or if the Reader character has too much personality. No pressure though!

[macbookpro-hard-drive]

promise [connor m. x reader] pt.2

because i think this is a fitting end to this story. actual notes at the very end of this post, after the fic.

warnings: general swearing. this is a part 2 to a fic on @pacman-tattoo though.

12:23 AM   connie: you still awake? 

12:26 AM   connie: babe.

12:35 AM   connie: i’ll be home soon, ok?

12:36 AM   connie: traffic is weirdly fucking awful rn and i wish you were here

12:37 AM   [y/n]: sorry, i’m here. i was almost asleep.

12:38 AM   connie: sorry

12:39 AM   [y/n]: make it up to me <3

12:39 AM   connie: i will

With a quiet hum, you left your phone back on the nightstand where it had been charging up until the vibrations against wood had pulled you out of your state of near-slumber. Connor rarely worked late, but sometimes he was roped into cleaning more than just the bar itself. It was temporary, he told you over and over. Eventually, he’d get his stupid book of stupid poetry (his words, never yours) and maybe he could go from there. Write more books, make things work, and one day he’d be staying at home and writing poetry while you continued to be the breadwinner once you were out of school for good (your words, occasionally his). Sure, working in an office when you weren’t swamped with classes and making pretty okay money in the meantime hadn’t been your plan originally, but... things happen. Life changed. Connor was a constant for you, though. True to the promise he made to you almost six years ago at eighteen, he never disappeared again. Not the way that he had used to. Sure, there were fights, and he would leave you alone in the living room while he shut himself up in the bedroom and dealt with the flow of emotions that rammed through him, but things worked out. On the worst nights, he’d come back out to find you asleep on the couch, and he’d end up waking you up and the two of you would fix things. He opened up to you, slowly and surely, and things worked. It was hard, certainly, but... the two of you made it work. 

And now you were lying in bed in the little apartment that you shared, waiting for him to come home from bartending (Connor Murphy, working in customer service? You never could fully believe it, but he managed) and to climb into bed next to you, and maybe the two of you would talk until you fell asleep. 

The sound of jingling keys from the living room caught your attention almost half an hour later, followed by the slamming of a door, and then heavy footsteps. Before you could call out to him, Connor came in through the door, fighting his way out of his shoes, his jacket, his jeans, and soon enough he threw himself directly into the space next to you. For a moment, he was hardened by whatever bullshit he’d faced during the day, but one look at you was enough to soften his gaze.

You sat up, reaching out to brush his hair from his face. “Long day?”

“The fucking worst.”

Despite the aggravation in his voice, you chuckled. “You wanna talk about it?”

He shook his head, hopping back up. “It’s stupid shit,” he said. “Don’t worry about it.” But he paused before he could move away, dipping forward to press a kiss against your lips. “It’s fine,” he said again. “I promise.”

As he walked away, you merely watched as he began to strip out of his clothing before changing into a faded band t-shirt that often was used by one of you as a sleeping shirt. You admired him for a moment. Six years ago, he was... thinner. Bonier. Ever since things had shifted between the two of you, he’d put on a bit of weight (enough to become less of a bean-pole and more... okay) and he generally seemed brighter, if you were honest. Maybe that was what getting out the Murphy house did for him. He’d cut his hair, although it still stayed long enough to hang in his face if he wasn’t careful. As much as you missed the long locks, you were happy. He’d begun taking care of himself. He had his off days, and you knew that, but he seemed to genuinely be trying for you, and he was trying for himself, too. 

“You like the show?”

You couldn’t help but snort. “Maybe I do,” you reached toward him, doing grabby hands. “C’mere,” you whined quietly. “I wanna cuddle.”

He scoffed at the notion, but climbed into bed next to you a moment later nonetheless. Instead of folded into your arms, he pulled you closer, wrapping himself securely around you, cocooning you in his warmth. The faint smell of his cologne still stuck to him, and you happily buried your face in his neck before pressing a soft kiss against his skin.

“Sometimes,” his voice vibrated in his chest, and although you went to move, he kept his hold on you. So you relaxed into him, and he continued, “I think about when we got together.”

“Mmhm?”

“I was dealing with a lot,” he said, lowering his voice. “Fuck, you know how many problems I had, and...” He paused for a moment, nuzzling his face into your hair just for a second. “And I’m glad I got help.” He corrected himself barely a second later, “I’m getting help.” When you didn’t respond, he continued on, “I’m glad it’s working.” 

“I am, too,” you admitted against his skin, and he hummed in acknowledgement. “I’m glad you’re here.”

He ran a hand up and down your back, and the motion soothed you slightly. “I was scared I was depending on you entirely,” he shut his eyes. “I thought that if you weren’t here, I couldn’t be happy. But... I got better,” he said. “I’m better. I have... friends,” he said after a moment of hesitation. “I’m writing. I’m not fucking paranoid all the time. But...” He drew away from you, hands reaching up to cup your face, smushing your face slightly. “I do have you. I’m glad you stayed.”

“Someone’s sappy tonight,” you pulled a hand away. “I’m glad you stayed, too.” 

“Sometimes I think I don’t deserve you,” he said, and the air grew tense for a moment. He... wasn’t being sappy, he was being honest. “But, I think... I think now I’ve learned that even with my bullshit, I... I think I deserve good things, sometimes.”

“You do,” you reached up to trail a thumb along the apple of his cheek. “Just because you fucked up and got angry at people and dealt with a lot doesn’t mean you’re not worth loving.”

He chuckled, and he said your name gently. “No wonder you’re trying to become a therapist.”

You leaned forward, pressing your forehead against his own for a moment. “I wanna help people,” you said. “I wanna help teenagers like you who needed it. I didn’t give up on you then, and I don’t want to give up on my future patients.”

“Even if you’re not what they need?”

“Especially if I’m not what they need,” you said. “I’ll find them someone else. Just because I can’t help them wouldn’t mean that I can’t help them find someone who can.”

There was softness in his eyes as he kissed you gently. No more scent of cigarettes and the taste of smoke (he’d given that up long ago, just so he could have longer with you), but he still held the same warmth he did the first time you kissed. “I love you.”

So you settled into his arms after giving him one last kiss. “I love you, too, Connor.”

-

So... I’d like to take a moment to talk, since, uh, it feels right to. 

I started writing musical reader inserts back in 2017, shortly after my 17th birthday, and the first one I wrote was a Connor Murphy fic titled “Promise.” Which... is why I feel that this is a fitting ending for my writing. I don’t remember the last fic I wrote for this blog, but I never felt completely satisfied in saying “I’m done writing reader fics for musicals” since... nothing felt like an ending. 

Of course, I’ll still sorta be lingering around this blog if anyone wants to DM me or send in an ask, but I’m not gonna write anymore. I sorta stopped once I got to college since I didn’t exactly have the time to do it as often anymore (and I sorta lost interest in writing for musicals, actually, since I do write elsewhere sometimes), but... that’s beside the point.

A... lot has happened since I posted that first fic. I dated someone for the first time, ended things with them, and then I fucked up majorly with some things that happened afterward. I’m still atoning for it, and maybe I never will fully do so, but it’s one of my deepest regrets. Of course, I’ve... learned I’m not the only person at fault in the situation (more like I was manipulated, but I’m not going to deny my own part there), but I think coming to the realization that I wasn’t alone there... helped. I lost a few friends, and I kept everyone else for the most part. For a really, really long time, I always wondered why. I had fucked up so majorly, I couldn’t comprehend why my friends stayed with me.

And... It’s because we love each other. I fucked up, sure, but... they knew who I was as a person. These people didn’t abandon me because they saw me for who I am. I explained what happened, I showed anger and frustration and melancholy for everything that I (and the other person at fault) had done, and... they weren’t going to cast me out in my hour of need. I had made the group chat we all met in, and I tried to take an interest in everyone as best as I could. I became a different person when I was with my ex, and... and I never want to be that person ever again. I was petty, and spiteful, and when I look at who I became, I realize that I’d been changed for the worst. I like to think I’ve gotten better, and maybe that’s because of the stupid fucking trauma making me realize my place. 

But... I love my friends. I love them so, so much. I don’t think I’d still be here if it weren’t for them. It’s been a pretty wild ride, and I’ve written so much for these fandoms (although admittedly not in recent years) but... I’m proud of what I have done. I love writing so, so much, and it’s always going to be a part of who I am, no matter what route I end up taking. While I can look back on some of my writing and laugh because it’s cringe-y and clumsy and I’ve definitely improved, it’s still something I did. 

Even if this post doesn’t get a single note, I’m... still proud of what I’ve done and how far I’ve come, and I thank anyone reading this for coming with me on this journey. Please, take care of yourselves. Be kind. It’s okay to have bad days: even flowers need a little rain to grow. 

But most importantly: love yourself and love the people that want you to be better. 

Thanks, gamers. Feel free to hit me up anytime.

~ Minerva “Minni” @mango-juiiice

[tk-writer]

Jealous. [Haikyuu!! - Tsukkiyama]

Tsukishima fights an intense ler mood at practice one day when he sees Yamaguchi and Nishinoya messing around.

Word count: 2693

hi there! i stole this idea from That One Scene in the baseball anime Ookiku Furikabutte (Big Windup!) i’d link it here but of course i can’t find the post with the video kajsfhajks. anyway, here’s tsukishima with a Phat(™) ass ler mood & cute boi Yamaguchi as tribute. enjoy!

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Tsukishima could barely focus during practice that day, and it was all Yamaguchi’s fault.

The blonde barely uttered a word that afternoon, even when his fellow teammates addressed him directly. They figured he was finally taking the game seriously for once, not wanting to get left behind as the rest of them soared to greater heights. But in truth, volleyball was the furthest thing from his mind.

His thoughts - and his heart - were set on his childhood best friend, whose antics that day made it impossible to focus on read blocking, on spiking, on anything. All because of that stupidly infectious laugh of his.

While Tsukishima was taking a quick break, his steely eyes fixated on his freckled friend as he got ready for another round of serving practice. Lately he'd been flopping most of his jump floats, so today he had dedicated almost all of his time to perfecting them. He was working harder than almost anyone else, which earned him Tsukishima’s respect even though he never said it aloud.

However, instead of heading to the court to take his place, Tsukishima saw him walk towards Nishinoya with cheeks ablaze. His ears perked up as he caught the tail end of their conversation, finding it difficult to pull his attention elsewhere.

“Hey, uh… Nishinoya?”

“What's up?”

“Can you… umm… do ‘it’ again?”

Nishinoya tilted his head in confusion, but beamed with joy when he realized what Yamaguchi was asking.

“Ohh, you want me to do ‘it’ to help you relax?”

“Uhm, y... yes, please!”

“Alrighty! Lift up your arms! Hehehe…”

Tsukishima had a gut feeling about what was coming next and turned away before anyone could notice the blush creeping across his own cheeks. 

A couple seconds passed before an all-too familiar laugh rang out through the gymnasium, capturing the attention of all but one blonde haired blocker who refused to look. An unfamiliar emotion swirled in the pit of his stomach, one he couldn't put a name to until much later when the two of them were alone.

“-Aheeheehaha! Gaaaaah!”

“Stop moving around so much! You’re making it difficult!”

“I cahahahahan’t!!”

Their fun was soon interrupted by the team captain, who was less than pleased to see his juniors messing around once again. As soon as the two underclassmen heard Daichi’s stern voice yelling at them from the court, they froze up and stood at attention.

“Stop fooling around you two! Yamaguchi, get out here and serve already!”

“Right! Sorry!!”

The pinch server regained what composure he could before racing out to the court while Nishinoya zoomed over to the other side. Tsukishima watched in disbelief as his friend took a deep breath, got a running start, and then successfully completed a perfect jump float, one that even Nishinoya couldn’t receive. 

So that ‘it’ thing really worked, huh? He tried his best to fight the smile creeping across his face, kicking himself mentally for being so soft. Seeing that unfold before him was so lame, so ridiculous, so undeniably and indisputably...

…adorable.

Nishinoya ran up and gave his teammate a double high five, then poked him in the ribs to throw him off. Yamaguchi doubled over, clutching his sides while his high pitched laughter floated through the air. 

Tsukishima pretended not to notice.

He saw it happen again later, while Yamaguchi was sitting next to Suga on the bench during break. The third year was much more subtle about it, doing sneaky things like poking his side repeatedly and whispering mean teases in his ear. Tsukishima could make out a few words here and there scattered in between Yamaguchi’s tittered giggles. The first year was doing his best to stay quiet, clamping a hand over his mouth while he squirmed in place, probably to save himself the embarrassment. 

Tsukishima glanced over his shoulder, trying not to make it too obvious he was watching.

“...does it tickle here?”

“Pfffft, bahahaha!”

“...here… or what about here…?”

“Eheheheehee! Sugaaaa!”

He couldn’t tell which was worse. Suga’s soft, yet sadistic teasing, or Yamaguchi’s breathless begging. Watching his nose scrunch up, bunching the scattered freckles across his face together while he threw back his head and finally erupted into full blown belly laughs. It was all too much for the middle blocker. In his head, a single sentence repeated itself over and over again like a mantra for the rest of his time at practice, one he couldn’t ignore no matter how much he tried to repress it:

I should be the one getting him.

~~~~~

When the sun began to dip under the horizon, the two of them left the gymnasium together and walked side by side as they headed home, like they always did after practice. Tsukishima was as quiet as ever, still mulling to himself while Yamaguchi tried making small talk. He didn’t really register what he was saying, as his mind was still replaying the scenes from earlier. He was so deep in thought that he barely heard his friend calling his name.

“...Tsukki? Earth to Tsukki! Helloooooo?”

The blonde perked up, finally coming back to reality. Yamaguchi was staring at him with his big, brown eyes, like a puppy dog seeking attention from its master. He thought about the way he squeezed them shut when Nishinoya tickled his sides, and then how sweet his giggles sounded when Suga was poking him. He thought about how much he wanted to hear him laugh like that again, right here, right now.

He couldn’t deny it any longer. He really, really wanted to tickle Yamaguchi.

Without saying a word, Tsukishima slapped the back of his neck and began to give him gentle squeezes. 

“Aaaaaah! Tsukkiiiii!”

Yamaguchi’s reaction was as predictable as always. He raised his arms to try and grab Tsukki’s hands, leaving his midsection wide open for an attack. The middle blocker jabbed into his sides, the corners of his mouth turning up slightly in amusement while Yamaguchi tried to fight the tickles from both ends. It was funny how much those subtle touches affected him. No wonder everyone else on the team enjoyed teasing him so much.

“Are you still spending the night tonight?” He asked, keeping a straight face as he feigned ignorance to Yamaguchi’s suffering.

“Ahahaha! I already said yeahahahaha!”

He gave him a few more rapid squeezes before letting him go. Yamaguchi let out a few more breathy laughs, then immediately started to whine, but it went unnoticed by a brooding Tsukki. He was still unsatisfied, but this little taste was enough to blow him over until they reached his house. Maybe then he’d feel a bit more bold.

~~~~~

As soon as they got back to Tsukishima’s place, they kicked off their shoes and went straight for the couch to watch some stupid TV shows. It was a Friday night, and they basically had the place to themselves since the rest of his family was out of town. Yamaguchi sat on one end of the couch, shoving fistfuls of cheese-itz into his mouth while Tsukishima sat on the other end, looking bored as ever as some dumb cartoon episode played on the screen. In reality, he was using all of his willpower to fight back his embarrassing little urge. His fingers twitched in place, tapping against the arm of the couch incessantly as if relieving pent up energy.

“Hey,” he said after an hour or so of silence.

“Yeah?” Yamaguchi mumbled with a mouthful of cheese.

“What was up with that whole ‘it’ thing earlier,” he asked casually, hoping his curiosity wouldn’t betray him.

“Huh?” Yamaguchi gulped down his cheesy snack. “Oh! You mean…”

He trailed off, the end of his sentence barely audible. Tsukishima noticed a pinkish hue forming on his cheeks as his gaze fell to the floor. It complimented his freckles quite nicely. God, why did he have to be so cute?

“Uh, well… Nishinoya suggested it ‘cause I kept getting nervous, and he said it could help me relax…”

“Uh huh. Did it work?”

“Actually, yeah! I felt like it helped loosen me up.”

“Uh huh.”

There was a brief moment of awkward silence that fell between them before Yamaguchi spoke up again.

“Uh, why do you ask?”

“You know,” Tsukishima said, leaning over his friend who was sprawled out across the cushions. “You can ask me. If you ever want ‘it’.”

“Wha, what?!”

Tsukki grabbed both of his wrists and held them down firmly, with little resistance from the pinch server who stared at him with a dumbfounded look, as if he hadn’t expected this to happen at all. He donned his most convincing poker face, hoping it was enough to mask his nervousness. His heart was beating so fast, it felt like it was climbing up his throat. There was no going back now.

“Tsukki…? What, what are you doing?!”

“Do you like it?”

“...Huh? Like what?”

Tsukki flashed a knowing smirk before he asked his next question.

“Do you like being tickled?”

There it was. He managed to spit it out, after all, as much as he hated saying that word. It looked like it bothered Yamaguchi just as much, who was already writhing beneath him.

“Whahahat?! Me? Wh, why do you ask?!”

He was giving  himself away with his nervous laughter and skittish babbling. Tsukishima hadn’t touched him at all, and he was already so worked up. His smirk turned into a grin as he shuffled the trapped wrists into one hand and hovered the other over his head. 

He was really going to enjoy this.

“You didn’t answer the question.”

Yamaguchi pulled weakly at his trapped arms, not really trying to get away but not surrendering either. He wiggled with what little room he had, and the sight made Tsukishima even more eager to get started. He noticed that the hem of his shirt had ridden up, exposing a bit of his belly button, and snuck his hand underneath so that it rested against his bare skin. It felt warm in his palms, and it twitched a lot just from the slight movement of his hand.

“Ehehehe, Tsukki!! Wait!!”

“Not gonna answer? Mmmk.”

Unable to hold out any longer, Tsukishima wisped the tips of his fingers against Yamaguchi’s stomach. His skin was soft to touch and quivered like jello. The freckly-faced boy squealed loudly, arching his back and pushing himself further into Tsukishima’s hand. The blonde couldn’t help but smile; only he knew how weak his friend was to light tickles, and he was going to exploit that fact for as long as he could.

“Tsukeeheeheehee!! Wahahahahit!!”

“It's really obvious that you like it,” Tsukishima stated matter-of-factly, continuing to spider in a circular motion around his navel. “You were so shy about asking, and you never said stop.” He moved towards his side, raking the entire length of his waist as Yamaguchi shrieked, squirmed, and protested. His torso bounced up and down like he was on a trampoline, contorting himself as much as he could with what little room he had to move. He accidentally brushed against his hip and remembered how bad it was there once Yamaguchi shrieked in ticklish agony.

“Ahahahaha, nghhhh, noHOHOHO NOT THEHEHERE!!”

“Not where? Here? You mean your hips? You’re really weak there, aren’t you?”

Tsukishima proved himself by tickling that hyper-sensitive area, putting his thumb in the crease of his thigh while his other four fingers dug into the side of his hip. Yamaguchi bucked his hips in response, involuntarily trying to shake him off but instead pushing himself further into the blonde’s grip once again. His laughter was bubbly and wild, jumping through multiple octaves until he lost his energy and fell into silent laughter. That’s when Tsukishima knew he was getting to him. He eased up, still stroking the waist of his shorts but at a much slower pace so he could catch his breath.

“Such a big reaction from a little touch,” he whispered, ghosting his fingers up his chest until they reached his collarbones. He fluttered against them with a feather-light touch, relishing Yamaguchi’s small squeaks and flinches. He climbed further, skittering the backs of his nails against his neck while the pinch server shook his head from side to side. He tried fighting back his giggles, but they burst through despite his best efforts.

“NgghhaahAHAHAHAHA! Pleeeeease! Tsukeeheehee!”

Tsukishima moved up to his ears, jumping from one to the other as he nearly tickled his friend to hysterics. Every time he turned his head, he’d just go to the other, making it impossible to shake him off. Yamaguchi was unable to form words, once again succumbing to silent laughter. 

“What’s wrong? Can’t talk? Maybe this will help,” Tsuki poked one of his underarms and nearly got bucked off the couch from how violently Yamaguchi thrashed. After grounding himself a bit more steadily, he focused his efforts on this new spot, poking the center of his pit again and again while his friend convulsed beneath him. Tears pricked the corners of his eyes as he tried hiding his face in one arm, perhaps from shyness or embarrassment. That just made Tsukki poke his other armpit, which elicited another goofy cackle from the trapped server.

He kept it up for several more minutes until Yamaguchi’s face was bright red and his giggles turned into wheezes. Tsukki gave him a few seconds of respite, allowing him to catch his breath before things got too intense. He put his hand on his stomach again and lazily traced random patterns into his trembling skin.

“I don't think it's lame, by the way,” he said, tracing a line from one side to the other while the brunette snickered from the light touch. “You can ask me whenever.”

“Aheeheehee… aha! ...I… I cahahan?”

“Yeah. Just don't be weird about it,” Tsukishima released him at long last, taking a moment to enjoy the blushing, disheveled sight that was Yamaguchi. The guy had curled himself into a ball in case Tsukishima decided to attack again and was still giggling, even now when Tsukki was at least a foot away.

“So… you don’t think I’m lame?” he asked, sounding genuinely concerned about what his friend thought of him. The blonde shrugged his shoulders, acting nonchalant while his insides fluttered like butterflies.

“Nah. You’re a pretty cool guy. I guess.”

Yamaguchi sounded a bit hoarse, so Tsukki went to the kitchen to fetch him a glass of water. He chugged it down so fast he started coughing, and Tsukki rubbed circles in his back until he was breathing normally again. 

“Wait… why were you watching me so much at practice?” the brunette suddenly asked while staring at his friend, who looked quite taken aback from the unexpected question.

“I wasn’t. I just…”

“Hold on! You were jealous, weren’t you? Did you wanna do ‘it’ to me at practice? Did ya? Did ya?” Yamaguchi poked at his friend’s ribs, moreso to annoy him than get a reaction, and luckily the blonde was able to stifle his own vocalization. He slapped away his hand and furrowed his brows in a fake display of annoyance.

“Stop. And how bold of you to assume I was focusing all my attention on you, dummy.”

Seeing him don a shit-eating grin only spurred Tsukki’s irritation on. He felt his own cheeks burn with humiliation now that he’d been discovered. It wasn’t often that Yamaguchi got the best of him, and when he did, he made sure to rub it in as much as he could. 

“Awww, Tsukki!! If you wanna tickle me that bad, you can just ask too!”

“Shut up. And don’t say that. It’s embarrassing. For you, I mean.”

“Hehe, what's the matter Tsukki? Can't say it? You can't say t-EHEHEHEHEE NOOOOOO! Please no I'm sohahahahree!!!”

Yamaguchi spluttered out pleas for mercy through more wild laughter as Tsukki latched onto his sides, tickling with much more ferocity than before. They stayed there for a while longer, just enjoying their closeness now that both of their little secrets were out in the open. Yamaguchi’s laugh rang out like musical notes, filling the house with a wonderful, heartwarming sound.

And for once, Tsukki actually laughed along with him.

[sighjeongguk]

↳ request!

↳ part three!

↳ part one, part two!

↳ jeongguk x reader

↳ words: 2645

↳ brief summary: what happens when management decides that you and jungkook should take a break from your relationship until the rumours die down.

“You’re kidding, right?”

           You slant your eyes upwards to Jungkook, standing with hands on the table, eyes narrowed at those who sit on the other side. You follow his glare with a softer gaze, meeting the sheepish stare of Manager Sejin. He doesn’t like this idea, either, but he has no choice. This order comes from somewhere higher than him.

           “I’m afraid not,” a man you have only known for thirty minutes says, “We think it would be in your best interest to put a hold to your relationship with Miss. YLN.”

           “But—why?” Jungkook asks and he sounds defeated. The wall is getting bigger, you think bitterly, growing taller without either of your input. You can’t stop the bricks from being lain. You’d always hated climbing.

           “It’s only temporary,” the man reiterates, “Just until things have calmed down. A few months, at most. People will be keeping their eyes on YN, and I’m sure you don’t want her to suffer any more than she already has.”

           You open your mouth to say that you’re alright with the suffering if it means you can stay by Jungkook’s side, but something stops you. You’re not sure what it is, if it’s fear or exhaustion or a mix of the two. “Maybe they’re right,” you say instead, and Jungkook’s eyes are on you in an instant. “Kook, if people start to suspect we’re together… this will just carry on for longer. We should at least… I don’t know… take time to recuperate before that happens. I need—I don’t think I can handle any more of this right now.”

           “Are you sure?” He asks, dropping back into his seat, and you can see as the fight leaves him. His shoulders sag, his glare dissipates and leaves behind a tired boy. He is just as tired of this as you are. You and him and Jimin. You and him and Jimin and the others. The article has been pulled down, a statement has been made, but people still have something to say. Your photo keeps cropping up on Twitter pages and Tumblr posts. You have to close the page when you find the one with your eyes crossed out.

           “It’s only for a little while,” you tell him, reaching across to take his hand in yours. “Until this... until this has calmed down.” You smile, but you worry it isn’t convincing. Worry that Jungkook picks up on the strain, on the ingenuity, because Jungkook knows you better than you ever thought anyone but Tae could. He knows when your smile isn’t genuine, knows when it doesn’t reach your eyes.

           But he also knows when you’ve made up your mind, so he squeezes your hand. “Okay,” he says, quietly, “Until this has calmed down.”

 “This is—what?!” Taehyung stops his ranting to turn towards you, eyes wide, frantic, like he’s about to go down to the company and sort this out himself. You’re afraid he actually might. “Are you okay?”

           You shrug and bring your knees up to your chest. “It’s only temporary,” you say, but you think maybe you’re trying to convince yourself more than you are him. Your heart has felt heavy ever since you left that office, ever since you parted ways with Jungkook in the elevator.

           Taehyung knows this, too. You know he knows, because he comes to sit at your side and wraps an arm around your shoulder. “You’re right,” he says, “It’s only temporary. You and Jungkook… YN, I’ve never seen you love someone like you love him—and I’ve never seen him love someone the way he loves you. That’s not going to change after a few months. You know that, right?”

           You sigh and slump against his shoulder. “I’m worried that this is… that it’s too much for me,” you quietly admit. “Tae, I just—am I strong enough to endure this? Me and Jimin aren’t even dating, but I feel like I’m not good enough to even be friends with him. What will it be like with—with my actual boyfriend?”

           “It’ll be hard,” he says, and he rests his chin on your shoulder in an action that is all too familiar between the two of you. Taehyung has always been by your side; his shoulder has always been yours to cry on. You love him more than words can explain, and you are so often reminded of the intensity of that love, especially in moments like these. He isn’t supposed to be here, at your apartment, approximately ten minutes away from his own and so much smaller, but he is. He’d turned up just after sundown to hear your side of this mess, to fill in the gaps that Jungkook or Jimin may have forgotten to fill. “It will be,” he continues, “But we’ll do everything in our power to pull you and Jungkook to the other side. This… this is just letting us know what we can expect. Next time, you’ll have control over it. The ball is in your court.”

           You sniffle against his shoulder. “I hate sports.”

 It isn’t until weeks later that you’re able to set foot in the guys’ apartment again, stepping tentatively across the threshold like you might be trespassing on sacred territory, like you’re not supposed to be here. But Taehyung takes your hand and tugs you along to the living room, and it’s just the two of you. The others are elsewhere—you’re not sure of where, but you can faintly hear Yoongi humming a tune from his bedroom. He must be the only one left in the apartment besides the two of you. Taehyung mentioned something about lunch or shopping or buying new shoes because Namjoon spilled coffee on them in his text to invite you over.

           He leads you to the coffee table in the middle of the three sofas you had spent so many nights curled up on. Your head was always on someone else’s shoulders, but since you’d started dating it’d primarily been Jungkook’s. You remember Hoseok pouting about you pushing him to the sidelines now that you and Jungkook had finally crossed that line between more than friends and relationship.

           “What’s this?” You ask, eyeing the coffee table with furrowed brows. There’s a lot going on there; two placemats sat side by side, a packet of strings in all colours, and boxes up on boxes of beads and gems and other little things. You settle down on your knees besides Taehyung despite your confusion, turn your head to meet his grin.

           “Friendship bracelets,” he says, turning to look at everything he’s laid out. “I thought it’d be fun.” He looks back at you. “Don’t you think so?”

           “I really love you, Kim Taehyung. You know that, right?”

           “I love you, too, YN.” He picks up the packet of string. “I’m making yours with purple string. What colour do you want for mine?”

           “Purple, too,” you say, “We can match.” And because purple means a lot to him, you know this. You know that it’s meaning is also why he is choosing it for you, to prove that he loves you—to put as much of his feeling as he can into something so small, so inconsequential. A friendship bracelet that you used to joke about making as teenagers who made fun of everything. A friendship bracelet that you knew, without a doubt, that you were going to cherish for the rest of your life.

 You’re doubled over with laughter when footsteps approach, tears spilling from the corners of your eyes and your breath laboured. It isn’t until the newcomer asks, “What are you two doing?” that you remember all that you have been suffering.

           Jungkook looks down at you with knitted brows, eyes skirting across the mess you and Taehyung have made of the coffee table and landing on the smile that graces your face. He hasn’t seen you smile so brightly in a while. Jimin and Jin stand somewhere behind him, shrugging out of coats, conversation of the movie they are just returning from dying on their tongues.

           “We’re making friendship bracelets,” Taehyung says proudly, lifting his half-finished creation to show him. It is the third time his bracelet for you has been half-finished. Yours has been finished for nearly an hour, but Taehyung is a perfectionist—Taehyung has so many ideas that he scraps and revamps. Everything he makes is crafted so delicately, so passionately, and you cannot fault him. This is how he cares.

           But even so, you tell Jungkook, “He keeps dropping the beads,” because you cannot say you miss him. You are not sure if it is allowed here, in this space between together and not. You are broken up, but you are going to get back together. You are still together, but your heart aches like you are not.

           For a moment, you are sure that Jungkook’s jaw locks, that his hands twitch, but it is gone in an instant. He smiles at you, and he sits on the sofa behind you, leaning forward to look at the mess you have made of his coffee table. “It’s nice,” he says. Jin and Jimin file into the room like they, too, are intruding on something they shouldn’t be, weary eyes on Taehyung who has returned to his bracelet. He doesn’t speak because this—this is between you and Jungkook. Jungkook opens his mouth only to close it again. “How—?” He says but the question dies on his tongue. Neither of you are sure how to navigate this mine field. You are beginning to feel more and more like this is real.

           To quell that thought, you say, “Soon.” Because a part of you knows what he was going to ask. How much longer? How much longer until the two of you could hit play again, until you could turn to the next page of your story? This intermission is getting long and painful, and you are so close to the good part.

 A little while later, Taehyung slips his bracelet onto your wrist. A perfect fit, he lets you do the same to him, and the two of you sit with your wrists together for a few minutes, just looking, just admiring. This is over a decade of friendship; this is tears and laughter and memories. This is Taehyung telling you that things are going to be alright, that he will always be by your side. This is you telling him all the same. You are grateful and you love him, you are not sure what you did to deserve a friend as wonderful as him.

           “They’re cute,” Jungkook comments over your shoulder, and you turn to meet his gaze. You don’t say anything for a minute, or maybe two. You just look at him and feel. You feel the unsteady thumping of your heart and you’re sure your heart is smiling. It likes it when he’s around. You like it when he’s around. Taehyung feels like home but so does Jungkook. Taehyung is childhood home, is comfort and warm hugs, and Jungkook is the home you found yourself. Taehyung is tea parties and Jungkook is slow-dancing in the kitchen. You love them both dearly, in very different ways. One’s your brother and the other… the other is the love of your life. You wonder why the rest of the world tries to paint every boy you are close to in the same shade of love. You wonder why Jimin is painted lover when he, like Taehyung, is brother.

           “I miss you,” you say, finally; the words slip out of your mouth without much thought, without much consideration. They just fall, like autumn leaves. They fall, and Jungkook catches them with a smile.

           “Soon,” he echoes, and he leans forward to press a kiss to your forehead. “Soon.”

@username1: okay but can we have bts’ next comeback already???

@username2: there hasn’t been much tae and yn bff content lately and i’m sad :(

@username3: jimin looks so good wtffffff

 For four days straight, your timeline is void of any death threats, notifications cleared of insults and unwarranted demands. On day one, you thought maybe it was a momentary silence, a lull to let you catch your breath before the next onslaught. On day two, you had hope that maybe, the silence would last. On day three, you made up your mind.

           On day four, you stand at the door of Jungkook’s bedroom with your heart hammering inside your chest. Soon, you had told him nearly two weeks ago now. Soon, but you hadn’t known how soon. There is shuffling inside the room as you lift your hand to knock, and the door is pulled open before your knuckles can even graze against the wood.

           He stops upon seeing you, hand curled around the metal of the door handle, eyes blowing wide and lips parting just a little. “YN? What—are you here to see Taehyung?”

           You shake your head. “It’s—it’s calmed down,” you tell him, “Things have—they’ve calmed down, Jungkook. Nobody wants me to die right now.”

           His eyes light up, and you can see the stars that you have so badly missed seeing. Stargazing isn’t so boring when it’s with him. “Does that mean—?” He clears his throat, tries to quell the excitement growing in the pit of his stomach. “We’re back together?”

           “We’re back together.” You nod. “If you’ll have me—.”

           You’re pulled against his chest before you say the words. The movement is quick but the action is gentle, one arm encircling your shoulders and a hand on the back of your head, anchoring you close to him. “Thank god,” he breathes against your hair. “These past two months have been… they’ve been hell, YN.”

           “I know they have,” you say, “I’ve missed you.”

           He pulls away from you, smiling sheepishly. “I, uh, I got you something,” he admits, stepping backwards into his room. You follow automatically. You don’t want to be apart from him when you’ve finally gotten him back, when the riots have finally come to an end and you can live in peace. “After you—after you and Taehyung made the friendship bracelets?” He pulls a box from the top drawer of his dresser, where you keep your spare clothes, just in case, because you live here more than you do your own home. “I guess I—.”

           “You were jealous,” you accuse playfully, and you would smile if you weren’t already, if your smile hadn’t permanently fixed itself to your face.

           He sends you a withering look. It drops as he looks back at the box in his hand, a sigh passing his lips. “I guess I was, a little.” He shrugs. “Not of him, but—I was jealous that he could match with you and not worry about starting a war on Twitter. I know we can’t do couple jewellery right now, but…” He holds the box towards you, and you take it in your hands cautiously. Whatever it is, he seems to have put a lot of care into it.

           You open the box, and inside there sits a necklace. A simple, silver chain made remarkable by a dark gemstone cut into the shape of a rose. It’s beautiful, you think, and you say it aloud as you meet Jungkook’s nervous gaze. “I love it,” you say, “Jungkook, you shouldn’t—.”

           “That’s not all,” he interrupts, and he pulls a ring from his finger. Plain silver, but he tilts it towards you, showing you the inside. A black rose, engraved into the metal. Hidden from the world, but so clearly there. “I thought—I didn’t want to put you through that again. But I wanted something we could both… have, as a set.”

           “I love you,” you say, “I love you.”

           Jungkook smiles. “I love you, too.”

[notdonesimpin]

It Takes Time ~k.b.~

koutarou bokuto x reader

warnings: angst (but not with bo), fluff (with bo)

synopsis: After breaking up with your boyfriend of three years, you find yourself falling for Bokuto’s antics to cheer you up.

a/n: okay so this started as purely self indulgent and i just typed whatever felt right lol so it’s kinda long. hope you enjoy :)

“We’ve been at this for ten minutes, why hasn’t he cheered up?” Sarukui huffs. 

Akaashi sighs, watching the first years fail to lift his spirits. He’s pretty sure they have tried everything that usually works, but none of it had any affect on him. 

“We’ve got about ten minutes to turn his mood around or we might be doomed. We need him at his best performance when playing Nekoma,” Komi reminds. 

Nekoma… Y/L/N could fix this, Akaashi thought.

“I’ve got it!” Akaashi exclaims, “I’ll be back as quickly as possible!”

He rushes off to find you, leaving all of them in confusion as to what he’s talking about. 

“Y/L/N!” Akaashi yells, running towards you as you fill up the water bottles with the other Nekoma manager.

“What’s up? Aren’t you supposed to be warming up right now?” You ask and look up at him as you tighten the lids on all of the bottles.

“Are you swapping out this game? Are you supposed to help the other managers with something?”

“I am swapping out, but the other managers don’t have anything planned. We just kind of chat.”

“Good.” He grabs your arm and drags you in the direction of the gym. 

“Akaashi! Why are you dragging me?” You try to keep up so he at least wouldn’t drag you.

As soon as you get in the gym, he rushes you over to his team and pushes you in the direction of Bokuto. 

“Fix him,” he requests.

You look at him in confusion. “I don’t know how to do that!”

“Just do what you normally do! You don’t have to do anything special.”

You huff and walk over to Bokuto.

The team looks at Akashi in confusion as Komi speaks up. “You got Y/L/N?”

“Just watch.”

“Bokuto?” you walk up to him, “Are you okay?”

As soon as he hears your voice, he perks up and looks at you with a wide smile. “Y/N! You’re here to watch me play!”

“Do you want me to watch?”

“Yes! I want you to see how awesome I am! I worked on a crazy good line shot that’ll blow your mind!” He overemphasizes with his body, making you laugh a bit.

“You showed it to me last night during free practice, Bo.”

“Oh yeah…” he pouts for a quick second but then recovers, “But it looks so much better in a game!”

“I guess I can stay and watch. Don’t go too easy on us, okay?” you tease, walking over to Nekoma’s side of the court.

The entire team was in shock by how your presence alone was able to change Bokuto’s entire mood.

“Bokuto has a crush on her,” Akaashi briefly explains, “but she has a boyfriend.”

“Shouldn’t that make him even more sad?”

Akaashi shakes his head, “They are on thin ice right now, so he’s trying even harder.”

“Guys! What are you doing standing around? We have to warm up!” Bokuto yells, gaining the entire team’s attention.

Later that night, you were hanging around Kuroo at his free practice with Bokuto, Akaashi, Tsukishima, Hinata, and a deceased Lev. 

“Y/N?” you heard the voice of your boyfriend at the door.

Everyone paused with wide eyes and looked between you two.

You sat the water bottle for Lev down beside him as you asked, “What are you doing here, Seijuro?”

“We shouldn’t be having this conversation over text. Can you please come with me?” he requested. You nodded and walked over to him, giving Kuroo a look as you passed.

As soon as you were out of sight, Bokuto started to make his way after you, but Kuroo grabbed his arm. “Bokuto, not this time.”

“What if he hurts her? What if she’s crying?” Bokuto says. They could hear the sadness and desperation in his voice to make sure you were okay.

“She’ll let us know when she feels like it. Let’s practice some more. I promise if she isn’t back in fifteen minutes, we’ll look for her,” Akaashi adds in, managing to focus Bokuto’s attention elsewhere for the time being.

Meanwhile, you were sitting on the hill with Seijuro beside you.

“So you did cheat on me,” you started.

“Y/N, really?” Seijuro looks at you with disbelief.

“I asked you two days ago if what Kuroo told me was true. Two days, Seijuro. Instead of just telling me no, you ghosted me and then showed up here. You wouldn’t do all of that if it wasn’t true. I don’t want to believe you did it, and I’ve never thought you would. I’ll ask you again. Did you cheat on me?”

After a few seconds of silence Seijuro confesses, “Yes, I did.”

You could feel your heart ache and your throat close up as the tears began to well in your eyes. You got up with fists clenched, trying to keep your composure.

“I’m done, Seijuro. We’re done.”

You walk away as Seijuro follows behind you with pleas for you to just let him explain. “She didn’t mean anything! It was a mistake.”

“It was a mistake?” You pause and turn to look at him as you spat, “How long did you see her behind my back?”

He became quiet again, but this time it only made you angrier. You shook your head, taking off the necklace he gave you and tossing it on the ground in front of him.

“Three years. We were together for three years, Seijuro. Does that not mean anything to you?” Your voice began to raise with every question you asked, “Was I just an easy lay? Did you ever even care about me? Was I not pretty enough? Not good enough? Was everything you ever promised to me a lie?”

“Six months!” Seijuro cut you off, “And, no. You mean so much to me. I just got caught up because you were focusing so much on the volleyball team, and I missed you. I was selfish and stupid, and I should have talked to you about it instead of cheating.”

You shook your head in disbelief, “You played me like a fool for six months. Would you have even stopped if Kuroo didn’t catch you. Would we even be having this conversation right now?”

“No, I would have figured that what you didn’t know couldn’t hurt you.”

Your lips were tightly pressed together as you took in this information. “Thank you for being honest. Also, thank you for showing me how much of a joke I am. I hope you treat her better than this.”

“Y/N-Fuck! Listen to me.” Seijuro grabbed onto your wrist, squeezing tight enough for you to feel pain.

“Let go!” you wince and try to pull your arm back. 

As you stepped back, you ran into someone’s chest, looking up to see Kuroo staring Seijuro down. “Do we have a problem here?” Kuroo seethes.

The air was thick as Kuroo stared Seijuro down.

“We’re just talking, Kuroo-kun,” Seijuro grip slightly tightens as he tries to pull you closer.

“Then why does she look terrified right now? Also, I believe she told you to let go.” 

Kuroo’s eyes narrow as a dare for Seijuro to try anything again. Seijuro hesitated, contemplating on if he wanted to make this harder than it had to be. 

“Look at you being her protector. Where’s the other guy? The knight and shining armor?” Seijuro drops your wrist as he steps forward to get in Kuroo’s face.

“Seijuro, please leave. I’ve heard everything I needed to. It’s over between us. It was over as soon as you cheated the first time.”

Seijuro became quiet, backing away from the both of you as he clenched his jaw. You and Kuroo stood there in silence and watched as he walked away.

“Are you okay?” 

You nodded as you looked down and rubbed your wrist.

You walk back to the gym with Kuroo close behind you, putting on an emotionless face as you come through the door. 

Bokuto immediately noticed you and spoke up, “Y/N? Are you okay?”

You plaster a quick smile and give a small wave as you help Lev up. “Don’t worry about me! I’m just going to get Lev in bed and probably turn in myself. I’ll see you guys tomorrow!”

“Okay…” Bokuto says, holding back everything he wanted to ask you.

He figured it didn’t go well since you looked like you were about to cry. Plus, he noticed that you didn’t have the necklace Seijuro gave you on anymore either.

After getting Lev back, you went to the bath since no one was in there and let out silent sobs as you sat in the water. 

You’d never felt so used and useless in your life. Maybe it was karma getting back at you for all the things you did when you were younger.

Maybe you just weren’t meant to find love. You were stupid enough to give everything to the first guy that ever showed interest in you. You’re a fucking joke. You always have been. 

What made you think that being with Seijuro would make it any different? 

You hadn’t realized that you’d been in there for almost thirty minutes until your phone went off from a text.

Bo: *sent a photo* Thinking of doing this next halloween. Opinions?

You giggled to yourself, looking at the photo of a Sailor Moon outfit and imagining Bokuto in it.

Y/N: you definitely have the legs for it lol

Bo: I KNOW RIGHT ;) 

You laughed a little more, wiping some of the tears from your eyes as you waited for his next message.

Bo: did that make you smile? I figured you probably left early so you wouldn’t make us worry. 

You furrowed your eyebrows, finding yourself shocked by his text. 

Y/N: yeah, it did :) plus, you guys don’t need to worry about me. I’m a big girl.

Bo: I know I don’t NEED to, but I do. 

Bo: want to join me to get popsicles?

Y/N: can you wait 20 min?

Bo: OF COURSE! Meet you outside of your building!

You rushed out of the bath to put on some clothes and meet him outside. 

As soon as you walked outside, he stood up and softly smiled at you. “You ready?”

You nod, watching him jump for joy as he walked beside you. “There’s a store about five minutes away. I hope that’s okay.”

You lightly laugh, “It’s fine, Bo. I needed a post break up snack.”

His eyes widened, “Oh, I’m sorry about that.”

“You don’t need to apologize. It wasn’t your fault.”

He shoves his hands in his pockets, kicking a few rocks on the path. “I know,” he mutters, “I can’t imagine how bad you feel, though.”

You shrug, “I don’t even know how bad I feel. I know that I’m upset about why it happened, and I know that I’m the one that broke up with him. I guess it just feels like a fever dream.”

Bokuto nodded, letting the two of you fall into silence for the rest of the way there. He didn’t want to seem like he was pushing you for answers that you weren’t ready to give and you appreciated it.

As soon as you got in the store, Bokuto grabbed a small basket and handed it to you. “Go get your feel better snacks. I’ll get the popsicles and some ice cream.”

“Bo-”

He cut you off before you could respond. “I’m covering it, so don't worry about it. I know you like to eat your feelings when you’re sad. Even though you think you put on a good mask, I can always tell when you’re sad, so please get your comfort food. However much of it you need.”

He walked off towards the freezer section before you even had the chance to respond.

~

The next morning, Kuroo was carrying you on his back to the gym since you refused to get up. 

“Does this count as kidnapping?” you question.

He rolls his eyes, “No, but it will count as a murder if you don’t stop sulking and doubting your worth. He was the one in the wrong, and he is the idiot. Not you. So, I’m not going to let you wallow in self pity. You’re gonna stay busy.”

You mumble out a few curses, “You could have at least let me put on a fucking hoodie before dragging me out here.”

“I will drop you and feel no mercy.”

You pout, “I need a new best friend.”

“Well, good luck finding one.”

You hear Bokuto chant and look his way to see him giving Akaashi a high five.

“Kuroo, why is Bokuto so nice to me?” you question, “I don’t think I’ve done anything to deserve it.”

“Being nice isn’t something people have to earn. Do people need reasons to be nice? That’s just the kind of person he is.”

“I know… I just figured- nevermind.”

Kuroo stops and you jump off of his back, immediately going in his bag to steal his jacket. 

“Nope, now you have to tell me,” he snatches his jacket from you.

You let out a huff, “Last night, he took me out for popsicles and bought my snacks because he knew I needed it. Plus, he told me that he always notices whenever I’m upset and hiding it.”

Kuroo laughs as he hands you the jacket. “You are so oblivious.”

He grabs his bag and walks off as some of the other managers call you over before you could ask him what he meant. 

~

A few months later, you were at nationals with Nekoma. 

As soon as you walked in, you heard your name get called.

“Y/N! I’ve missed you! Are you going to watch me play today?” Bokuto questions, practically jumping up and down.

You softly laugh, “Yeah, I think I can be there for the first match before they have to get warmed up.”

His eyes brightened, “Really?”

“I wouldn’t want to miss my favorite Ace playing,” you grin.

“Hey!” Yamamoto exclaims, but you dismiss him.

“I have to help them register, but I’ll see you later, yeah?”

Bokuto nods as you walk off with a wave.

“Kuroo,” you start, “At the training camp… you said that I was oblivious to why Bokuto paid so much attention to me.  I think I get it now.”

Kuroo raises an eyebrow, “You do?”

You nod, “Yeah because I could tell how sad he was that I couldn’t watch his entire game and how disappointed he was that we couldn’t talk any longer. I guess I never really noticed that I’d begun to like him until we were face to face again and not talking over the phone. Does that mean Bokuto likes me, too?”

“Ask Akaashi to steal his other jersey for you to wear and see what happens when you walk in before the game starts. You’ll get your answer.”

A few hours later, you tossed on Bokuto’s jersey over your long sleeve shirt and walked into the small gymnasium to see him.

There weren’t many people in there yet since it was the first game of the day and it hadn’t even started yet.

You leaned against the railing and yelled, “Bokuto! Akaashi!”

Akaashi gave you a small wave and thumbs up as Bokuto ran over to you excitedly. “You made it!” He glances down at your shirt with wide eyes and points.

You feel your cheeks heat up and stammer, “Oh! Akaashi gave it to me! I wanted to support you as much as possible, but I can take it off if you want me to!”

You fumble with the hem as Bokuto places his hand over yours. You look up to see a soft smile on his face as he shakes his head and his cheeks redden.

“Keep it on. You look really cute,” he confesses.

“O-Oh… thank you. I’ll give it to your manager before I leave.”

“No!” he exclaims, clearing his throat out, “I don’t need it today, so if you could keep it on… I don’t want any guys trying to hit on you or anything.”

“Bokuto-san!” Akaashi yells, motioning him back over.

“Okay!” Bokuto looks back at you and taps his cheek, “Good luck kiss?”

You laugh but comply, earning a cheer from him as he rushes off. 

You watched as much as you could of his game, cheering him on every time that he made a great play and cheering him up whenever he seemed to get down on himself.

Bokuto noticed when you left, feeling upset that you couldn’t watch the rest of his game; however, he saw your disappointed face as well and decided that he’d keep playing his best game so he could tell you all about it.

At the end of the day, you were laying down on one of the practice gym floors as you waited for the rest of the team to show up when you felt someone poking your cheek. You scrunched up your nose, refusing to open your eyes as you say, “Let me rest in peace.”

“I would, but I kind of need my jersey tomorrow. How about we trade?” Bokuto says with a wide grin as you open your eyes.

You notice one of his old team hoodies in his hand that he never let anyone touch because he didn’t want it to lose it’s luck.

You shrugged off his jersey as you say, “I thought this was your favorite.”

“It is, so take good care of it, okay?” he grins, “Plus, you need something that’s actually warm when we head out.”

You tilt your head in confusion. “Head out?”

“The next few days are going to be hectic for all of us, so I figured we should have a little bit of fun while things are still decently calm,” he shrugged, “I already told Kuroo, so just meet me at the by the side gym after your team meeting, okay?”

“Okay…”

He grins and ruffles your hair before rushing off to find Akaashi.

~

Thirty minutes later, you were met with Bokuto’s beaming face. “You ready?” he softly asked, walking up to you.

“Lead the way!”

You found yourselves in a park and sat on the ground to chat about random nonsense.

“Y/N, look at me,” Bokuto requested. You complied, watching him tuck a flower behind your ear with a grin.

“How do I look?”

“Perfect,” Bokuto muttered as his eyes glanced down at your lips and his hand caressed your cheek as he leaned towards you.

As soon as you felt his lips ghost over yours, you pulled back and placed a hand on his chest. Bokuto opens his eyes, failing at hiding his disappointment at your action.

“It’s too soon, isn’t it?” he softly asked.

“Wait, I-” you look down embarrassed, “I’m sorry.” Your hand drops from his chest and onto your lap.

He gives you a reassuring smile, “Don’t be. I should have let you make the first move when you were ready. I just got excited since I’ve never been able to act on my feelings for you.”

“Bokuto, I like you. I really do, but I don’t know if I’m good enough. I wasn’t good enough for Seijuro, so there’s no way I can even be a fourth of what you need. I gave so much of myself to him just to make him happy and it still wasn’t enough to keep him from finding someone better.-”

“I’m not him,” Bokuto cuts you off, visibly becoming upset that you think so lowly of yourself. “You can’t judge what I need based on him, either. Y/N, you are a lot more special than you give yourself credit for.”

“I’m really not…” you mutter, looking away from him.

“I’ve liked you for over a year now, Y/N. If you weren’t special to me, I wouldn’t still want to be the one holding your hand down the street or even coming to a park late at night just to talk because I love hearing your voice.”

You both fell in silence as he laid down to look at the stars. Without thinking, you laid beside him and admired the sight of the night sky.

“You remind me of a star. Without you, my life would be pretty dull,” he looks over at you with a silly grin on his face. 

“Was that supposed to be some corny pickup line?” you giggle.

“Yes, but I meant it. Without realizing it, I began to try to always play my best to make sure I had a good story to tell you. Even just thinking about you during a match would get me really hyped up and I’d play better. I would do anything to never see that pretty smile leave your face.”

“Now you’re just trying to make me feel better.”

“Y/N, I’m serious.” He turns to face you, “You are everything I need and more. You don’t have to pretend to be anything you aren’t with me because I like you the same when you’re bumming it out at Kuroo’s or Kenma’s house and when you’re glammed up for a girl’s night out.”

“When did you realize how you felt about me?”

As if Kuroo knew where the conversation was headed, you both got a text from him in your group chat.

Ku: Alright, love birds. Y/N’s curfew is approaching. I expect her back in 15 minutes on the dot. We ALL have an early morning.

You roll your eyes as you send back a quick text while Bokuto laughs and gets up.

Y/N: Get a life, Kuroo…

Bokuto extends his hand out to you with a cheeky grin. “May I have the honor of walking your highness back to her temporary castle?”

You grab his hand, letting him pull you up with a laugh. “Only if you promise we can stop for hot chocolate.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” he hums and laces his fingers with yours as you begin to walk in the direction of your hotel, continuing the conversation, “I think I’ve always liked you at least a little bit. I mean, it was hard not to like you when I finally met you since you were really sweet. So, when I heard you had a boyfriend, I just kind of brushed off those feelings like ‘as long as she’s happy, I’m happy.’ Then, when you introduced me to him at that practice match during our second year, I just felt that he wasn’t good enough for you. I knew you could do better, and I could be better for you than that pretentious asshat. I guess what really made me realize that I liked you was actually seeing you with him. I was disgusted that he got to touch you and hold you in ways that I never could. I felt like he’d built this wall between our friendship, and I hated him for it.”

“How come you never told me you felt that way about him?” you question.

“How was I supposed to? Was I supposed to tell you that your boyfriend was a piece of shit so come date me?”

“Maybe not in that exact way, but yeah. You’re usually pretty honest, and I trust your judgement most of the time.”

Bokuto dramatically places his hand on his chest with a drastic sigh, “Most of the time? You wound me.”

The entire walk consisted of cheerful banter and jokes, making fun of each other. 

As soon as you were in front of the hotel, Bokuto’s shoulders slumped. “I wish we could hang out a little longer.”

“Well, I wouldn’t be opposed to hanging out again after nationals are over,” you hum, turning to face him.

“Really?!” 

You nodded and his eyes lit up. You could tell that he already had a million different things to do running through his head.

“I can’t wait! We’re going to have so much fun!”

Another text from Kuroo came through: Can you guys kiss already and go your separate ways?

“I guess I should go before Kuroo actually storms over here,” you huff and continue, “I just wanted to say thank you for not getting mad at me earlier…”

He tilted his head with a wide grin, “I could never be mad at you! I understand that getting over an ex takes time, so we can go as slow as you’d like. I want you to be comfortable with me.”

You feel a weight lift off of your shoulders as he pulls you in for a hug. You both pull back and you give him a quick kiss on the cheek before heading inside.

“I’ll see you tomorrow!” you grin, opening the door to walk inside.

Bokuto smirks, “You act like you aren’t going to call me in an hour.”

You flick him off, earning a laugh from him as he waves you off and walks away.

“Do you get it now?” Kuroo raised an eyebrow as you walked over to him and sat down on the couch.

“Can you not pry into my love life?” you huff.

“Love life? I was just talking about his crush on you! Are you guys together now?”

Your phone buzzes with a text from Bokuto: the next time we go out, i’m taking you on a date! 

Kuroo peeked over into your phone as you typed a quick reply back: looking forward to it :)

“Finally!” Kuroo chered, “You’re acting on your feelings, and it’s not a shitty guy!”

You rolled your eyes, unable to come up with a witty response since you knew he was right. 

Maybe healing wouldn’t take much longer with Bokuto by your side.

[kokkoro]

Okay I have a funny prompt for you: Clarke gets a flat tire and doesn’t know how to change it and doesn’t have a ton of money to call someone. She orders a pizza and in the special instructions says she’ll tip $20 if they help her change her flat. Two workers arrive and she thinks it’s gonna be the tall muscled dude (Lincoln) but he’s like oh no, idk I’m not into cars, she’s gonna do it, and out comes Lexa. Clarke is gay the whole time watching her biceps as she works

“Absolutely not.”

“And why the heck not?” Raven asks. “Do you really want to sit on your butt until my 4 o’clock class gets out and I can come save your ass?”

“No,” Clarke says dejectedly, watching cars fly by on the highway.

“Then what’ve you got to lose? The worst that can happen is you're stuck there for another three hours with some pizza.”

“I guess,” Clarke mutters, glancing over her shoulder. She stares at the deflated shape of her rear passenger side tire and exhales a pitiful sigh, bringing up her right hand to rub her forehead.

“Alright, then. Keep me posted, ‘kay?” Raven says. “I’ll check in on you during break.”

“Please,” Clarke replies, but it’s quiet and lost to the wind the second Raven hangs up the line. And with nothing but the highway and her thoughts, it only takes a minute for Clarke to google the nearest pizza place.

Polis Pizzeria. Just fifteen minutes away despite being in the next town over, and Clarke’s pleasantly surprised to find there’s even a deal for a five dollar small two topping pizza when purchased in pairs. It’s easy enough to pay for with the little bit of money still left in her checking and altogether manages to scrounge up 20 and change from various nooks of her car. A couple of ones under the seat, one ten and a five in the glove compartment, and then another random dollar bill in between the center console and the passenger seat. Combined with what was left in her wallet, it gives her the necessary courage to press the order button, this short note in the comments section stating a nice tip for anyone willing and able to change a tire. 

Two small pizzas and a Pepsi later, Clarke opens up the passenger door of her beat up sedan and waits, scrolling through various feeds on her phone and ignoring the way her car rattles as cars fly by on the highway. A little bit of a breeze filters through the open windows, cooling the otherwise warm interior as the sun overhead finally begins its descent. Autumn could not come fast enough.

Clarke catches sight of the red hatchback in her rearview mirror what feels like a second too late. Taken off guard, she scrambles to right herself from her recline with her feet kicked up onto the dash and loses her phone somewhere in between the seats. She hears a door behind her close, and manages to pull herself upright onto solid ground just in time to see a tall muscular man most likely only a year or two older than herself, round the corner of her car holding two boxes of pizza. His smile is warm, his shaved head hidden under a black and red baseball cap sporting a now familiar looking letter P.

“Hey,” Clarke manages, clearing her throat.

“I’m guessing you’re the one with car trouble, huh?” he says, not even bothering to hide the amused quirk to his lips.

“Is it that obvious?” Clarke says, giving an awkward half shrug as the embarrassment takes hold.

He chuckles, handing over the pizza. “We’ve all been there, trust me.”

Clarke cracks a smile, the boxes warm under her arms. “Is this something you do often, then?”

He raises a confused eyebrow, and Clarke's stomach drops. It’s at this point that, if she had been paying more attention, Clarke would have heard the sound of the hatchback trunk as it swings shut. “Do what?”

“Change people’s tires?” Clarke says, voice a pitch high as her heart drops.

The man laughs, reaching up to scratch the back of his head underneath the hat. “I don’t know anything about cars, sorry. I’m not into that kind of thing.” He pulls his hand away, pointing back over his shoulder with his thumb. “That’s why Lexa is here.”

“Lexa?” Clarke repeats, eyes narrowed. She leans to the left to peer around the tall bulky form in front of her, and feels her jaw drop. Just for a second at least, as Clarke takes in the sight of the woman with a hat between her teeth as she deftly gathers up the thick mane of her hair using the reflection in the window.

The heat of the day is already curling the hair near her temples and the woman named Lexa tries unsuccessfully to tuck the pesky strands behind her ears with little success. She gives up, taking the hat from between her teeth and tugging her hair through the back, adjusting the bill until it sits comfortably on her head, shading her eyes. When she turns toward them, picking up the duffel bag near her feet, Clarke scrapes her jaw off the ground, catching a hint of green as Lexa’s eyes dart in her direction.

“Need any help?” the man asks. Lexa snorts, quiet, shaking her head, and Clarke's stomach swoops.

“You’ll just get in the way,” Lexa says as she comes to stand by her coworker. “No offense.”

“None taken.” He waits a second and then, “You two okay if I hang out in the car? I brought a book.”

“No, no, it’s fine, I’m not--” Clarke says, fully aware that the end of this sentence is just as much a mystery to herself as it is to everyone else. Coherency lost somewhere between flustered and too bi to function.

Lexa sets down her bag of tools and they clamber against the pavement near the flat tire. The man nudges her in the shoulder. “I’ll be back at the car then.”

“Sure,” Lexa replies, bending down to pick up the wrench. She squats, and Clarke watches her pop off the five plastic caps covering these large bolts with her free hand. Once they’re all off, she looks right, and Clarke straightens under the stare. “Do you have the car in park?”

Clarke nods.

“Good.” Lexa looks away, lining up the wrench with one of the large bolts. There’s a little bit of force required with the initial twist as Lexa leans into the wrench with her weight and Clarke isn’t blind to the way the veins in her hands and wrist become subtly more pronounced, the muscles in her forearms flexing.

Clarke clears her throat. “You, uh, do this often?”

“You could say that,” Lexa grunts, putting her weight into the next bolt. It loosens and she turns the wrench a couple full rotations before moving on to the next.

The sun seems warmer now, mid afternoon and the breeze all but gone save for the passing cars along the highway. A little bit of shine catches Lexa’s upper lip as she continues to work and she turns her head to wipe it off against her sleeve, the bill of her hat blocking her eyes from view.

“I take it you’ve never done this before?” Lexa asks, her focus elsewhere as she rummages through the bag at her feet.

“Uh, no, not really,” Clarke says, watching as Lexa pulls out a brick from the bag. Satisfied, she gets up to place it diagonally opposite the flat tire before returning to her spot. Squatting down, Lexa rolls up the sleeves of her work shirt, in preparation for what Clarke isn’t sure, but she isn’t going to say no to the view. Especially when the black ink of a tattoo pokes out beneath the sleeve.

“Do you want to learn?”

Clarke blinks, eyes darting up to find Lexa watching, arms draped over her thighs.

“It might save you some money in the future,” Lexa adds, the slightest of smiles at the corner of her lips.

“Sure,” Clarke says, a little breathless. “Yeah, I guess.”

The smile spreads just barely. “You might want to put the pizza down then.”

Clarke looks down at her hands, the warmth from the underside of the boxes seeping into her skin. A blush rushes to her cheeks. “Right.” Clarke turns towards the front passenger seat and the still open door and sets the box inside.

“All set?” Lexa asks once she returns, watching as Clarke crouches down beside her.

Clarke pushes the hair back from her face, brows pulled together. “I’m ready.”

Their knees bump as Lexa shifts, tugging off a hair tie from around her wrist. She offers it wordlessly, and after a second of thought, Clarke holds out her hand. Lexa drops the elastic into her palm.

“Thanks,” Clarke says, reaching back and gathering her hair in a loose bun.

“Don’t mention it.”

Lexa starts off by naming the little bits and pieces, gesturing to each of the tools in her duffel bag and explaining their intended use. She helps Clarke find the appropriate spot underneath the car for the jack using the user’s manual Clarke never thought she’d actually use, and from there, it's relatively simple.

The tire comes off easily once the car is jacked and the rest of the lugnuts are removed, set in a neat little pile by the bag. Lexa does most of the heavy lifting, removing the now flat tire while Clarke attempts to wrangle the spare from the trunk.

She doesn’t get far before Lexa appears in her peripheral.

“I can grab it,” Lexa says, stepping close. A pleasant scent fills Clarke’s nose, their shoulders touching, and it feels far too warm.

Clarke pulls away, and Lexa steps into the now unoccupied space at the back of the car. “All yours,” Clarke replies, but Lexa is already finishing the job, hefting the spare tire from where Clarke had managed to prop it onto the lip of the trunk and up under her arm with a grunt.

Clarke follows without anything else to do, standing by as Lexa fits the new tire into place. “See this?” she says, pointing to a nub along the rim once the tire is fitted back onto the axle. “It’s the air valve. This should always face out.”

Lexa reaches down beside the nearby bag, picking up the lugnuts. She double counts them in her palm and then looks up. “Would you like the honors?”

“Okay,” Clarke says. She takes her place down by Lexa's side, holding out her hands for the bolts. Lexa carefully deposits them into her hands before reaching down for the wrench and with her help, the spare is secured and stable and the car is back on four wheels in no time. Lexa stores her tools back where they belong in her bag, slinging the strap over her shoulder as she stands. She reaches up to tug off the hat, and Clarke has the misfortune (pleasure) of seeing Lexa run her hand through it, scratching at her scalp, before pushing it all over her left shoulder in one curly wave.

“Hey,” Clarke says, the word stumbling from her lips. Lexa looks in her direction and for a second her heart stops. Clarke clears her throat. “Thanks.”

Lexa’s lips tilt upward. “Anytime.”

When she turns to leave, Clarke acts on instinct. “Wait--” She reaches for the first thing within range. Which just so happens to be Lexa’s shirt. There’s a specific kind of mortification that seizes the air in lungs, but she pushes through it. “Wait,” she says more firmly before letting go and bolting back over to the passenger side door. She leans in over the seat, scrounging up the pile of money left in the center console.

She scrambles back outside in a rush, almost knocking her head on the door frame, but Lexa patiently remains where Clarke saw her last. Her shoulders are relaxed and she looks almost bored. It’s the sparkle in her eyes when she catches Clarke's stare that convinces her otherwise.

“Thanks for saving my butt,” Clarke says, handing over the money.

“You don’t need to,” Lexa says, her eyes not leaving Clarke's.

A blush burns gently under her cheeks, pleasant and warm all the way down to her neck. “Uh, yeah I do.”

Lexa’s fingers close around the money, folding the bills in half and then fitting them into the back pocket of her jeans. “Thank you…?”

“Clarke,” she answers.

Lexa’s smile is small but infinitely soft. “Drive safe, Clarke,” she says, and turns around toward the red hatchback idling behind her car.

“Bye,” Clarke replies. It's barely an exhale, lost completely beneath the wind.

--

“You have some explaining to do,” Raven says, startling Clarke where she’s sat at the kitchen table, her phone slipping from her fingers and hitting the table with a loud thunk.

Clarke scoops it back up, quick to close out of the recent calls section of her phone app. “I already told you what happened.”

Raven hums, looking wholly unconvinced as she sets down her laptop bag and various books onto their already crowded table. “And I’ve known you long enough to realize when you’re withholding juicy information.” She takes a seat across from Clarke, and waits what seems like minutes before continuing. “You can’t just mention that a pretty girl showed up to help you change your tire and expect me to leave it at that.”

“Yeah I kinda am.”

“Did you get her number?”

“What?” Clarke blinks. “No, of course not. She was working, I’m not going to do that to her. Besides she’s probably not even gay.”

“She showed up to change your tire, Clarke. And not to stereotype but that’s pretty lesbian of her.”

Clarke rolls her eyes, busying herself by checking through her emails. Nothing holds her attention long enough and she soon finds herself back where started. The Polis Pizzeria number stares back at her and for once in her life Clarke decides not to think.

It’s probably the worst decision of her life.

Even without the phone pressed to her ear, the ringing is undeniable and Raven’s eyebrows shoot up as her eyes dart between the phone and Clarke’s equally surprised face. A second and then two pass and Raven stands up from the table just as Clarke raises the phone up to her ear in time to hear:

“Polis Pizzeria, how can I help you?”

“Yeah, hi, uh...” Clarke swallows, her cheeks burning. A feeling she thought she had long since abandoned back in high school. “I’m looking for Lexa. Is she there? This is Clarke.”

“Speaking.”

It’s like a shot. The sudden nerves that come hurtling back and her palms go clammy with sweat, tongue thick and sticking to the roof of her mouth, and all rational thought decides to leave her in an instant. On the other side of the room Raven falls into an insistent fit of giggles.

“More car trouble?” Lexa says, breaking the awkward, drawn out silence.

“No. I mean, yeah, I--” Clarke swallows around the lump in her throat. Raven wheezes. “Maybe? I don’t know, I--”

Raven lets out a squeak of laughter, and Clarke picks up the closest pen and chucks it in her direction. It unfortunately misses by a wide margin.

“Clarke?” comes Lexa’s voice over the line.

Her attention returns immediately. “Look, I’m...I’m sorry, I don’t know why I called you.” Clarke stops, dropping her head into her hand. “Do you want your hair tie back?”

Lexa chuckles and somewhere in the background Clarke thinks she hears someone call Lexa’s name.

“How about this,” Lexa says softly, and the sound of that voice in her ear nearly makes Clarke melt. “I’ll give you my number. Feel free to text me if you have any car questions.”

Clarke picks up her head, staring out across the kitchen. “Really?”

“Yes,” Lexa answers, and for some reason Clarke can picture her smiling. “Really.”