#i am so far gone wish me luck on my exams

[devotedlystrangewizard]

its a little bit funny when people in msq roulette chat go "ugh prae" just. being me.

[a-whisper-in-the-forest]

Heyy! I'm here to request a writing about hero x villain but make it western theme, maybe hero's the sheriff and villain's the bad guy of the town. Do as you like, also good luck with the exam🌟

Omg, my first ask! (everybody stay calm) Thank you so much for asking! I really had fun with this one. The history nerd in me kinda screamed with excitement when I opened it. I hope you enjoy it, and that it somewhat lives up to your expectations!

(I'm totally not panicking because i'm afraid of messing this up, absolutly not)

~

Train ride

tw: blood, guns, violence, some swear words

Hero sighs as they look outside. It has been only a couple of hours since they left the station in Other Town. The sun has gone down by now and the moon shines proudly. They watch as the train rushes past the prairie, the speed blowing sand away as they pass. They notice the mountains in the distance and recognise them as the mountains they have spent so many days in, meaning they are not too far from their own town. The hero grumbles as they remember the disaster from earlier. They had to go to Other Town to discuss the increase of robberies. All the sheriffs from nearby towns had come together to try and find a solution, and each and every one of them was an enormous prick. They had spent three hours arguing about who had it the worst, who had the most robberies and who executed the most robbers. So, instead of finding a solution, they had wasted an entire day listening to a self-pity contest. 

Hero knew the gang that was doing all the robberies very well. It was Villain’s gang that had multiple groups in multiple areas. Their crimes varied a lot, but usually included a robbery. Stealing cattle, robbing banks, robbing carriages, robbing trains,... They could go on and on. At the head of it all was Villain. They were the ones that strategized everything and made sure no one betrayed them. Fill the latter in however you like… One day, a long time ago, they nearly had them. They were cornered with no weapon and a revolver pointed at their head. They got them, until one of their stupid sidekicks stepped in and knocked the Hero out by breaking a chair over their head. Every time they walked into the saloon, they could hear the jokes. ‘Howdy, Sheriff. How’s the head? Do you need to sit down on this wonderful chair?’. They became famous as the Sheriff that lost to a chair. The fact that they had cornered the Villain, was conveniently left out.

Suddenly, the train slowed. Must be a turn in the rails, trains have to slow down at those points, otherwise they’ll derail. Hero watches as the train slows and looks into the moonlit night. They are going to pick up speed again soon enough. As Hero waits for the train to continue, they get a gut feeling. This isn’t right, something seems off. They try to shake off the feeling. It’s probably their mind playing games. It has been a long day, they really wished they were in bed right now. The soft mattress, cozy blanket, the smell of their home,... No, something was wrong. There is no harm in taking a look to see what’s happening. 

Hero stands up and leaves their train compartment. Given it’s a late train, many compartments remain empty or contain only one or two passengers. They start going through them, door by door. Until they swing another door open, expecting an empty compartment, only for a dark figure to stand in the middle of it. A long leather jacket, boots, hat and a scarf hiding half their face… Villain. “Howdy, Sheriff,” Villain says behind their scarf, “I just need to pass, I have some business in one of the compartments behind you.” The Hero huffs. “You can’t be serious. I am not going to let you through. You are going to jail tonight.”

“I doubt that,” Villain answers and walks forward. Hero swings at Villain’s head but they quickly dodge it. Before Hero can recover, they get punched square on the nose. It was a well aimed punch because Hero could immediately taste blood in their mouth and feel a warm stream run down their face. Hero doesn’t give up though and throws two punches. One to the face, which Villain dodges again, and another one that lands on Villain’s ribs. Villain stumbles backwards and can barely escape Hero’s follow up punch. Villain lands on one of the benches in the compartment and Hero quickly towers over them. They’re not getting away today. That was easier than they thought. Villain really wasn’t that big of a threat without his revolv… A sharp pain shoots through hero’s leg. When they look up they can see a grinning Villain with a revolver in their hand. They hadn’t even realised that Villain had pulled it, let alone shoot it. Another wave hit Hero and they fell back on the opposite bench. They couldn’t stand anymore, it hurt too much. The Villain slowly rises. “Now, will you let me finish my assignment,” they say in a dangerous tone that makes Hero shiver. Not that they’d ever admit it. “Assignment? All the gold is in the front, you moron,” Hero bites back. “Oh, I know. And don’t worry the rest of my team is happily working on that. But, you see, somebody paid me a nice sum to take out some fella on this train, and I am a person of my word.” Villain says as they turn around. They start walking towards the exit door. “Coward! you’re nothing but a fraud! You can’t even fight without a goddamn gun!” Hero yells back. They felt the anger boil inside them. They were pretty sure there was steam coming out their ears. The Villain stops and looks over their shoulder. “You’re only alive because I like the little game we have going. Believe me, if I wanted you dead, you’d be nothing but a carcass left by the vultures,” they said. A threat, and they meant it. Hero slumped back into their bench. The pain became too great, they couldn’t move a single limb anymore.

Hero heard a woman scream and a loud bang. They really messed up. A few minutes later Villain walks back through the compartment. Hero meets Villain’s dark eyes, their face now decorated with splashes of blood. “Assignment completed, ‘till next time, Sheriff.” Villain passes them and goes to the next compartment. Not long after, Hero sees about eight people galloping away on horseback, bags full with as much gold as the horses could carry. Hero watches as they disappear into the dark night, heading for the mountains. They try to stop the bleeding in their leg by tying a handkerchief around their leg to keep pressure.

They really did mess up.

[a-vague-recollection]

Hello there...long time no see..(ig..if you've seen anything here that is),but anyways..I thought I'd log a 'crazy-something' that probably all of you here have already done..which is cramming for your finals..Thought that maybe doing this would -maybe-slightly-increase my nonexistent motivation. Idk why but I'm not scared in the least..maybe I've already given up internally..I don't think thats quite right cause I am aiming quite a bit high for a slacker you know but ig everyone does that on the eve of your exam. Also this is my final exam in this series and I can positively tell you that I've lazed the ones before this as well..

I'm kinda regretting the fact that I wasted 4 days for this particular exam. Yup wasted almost 4.5 days and ..here I am on tumblr to help myself study.

So to give you guys a context: I've got 4 modules and I've kinda skimmed through one module. 2 of these modules are lesser and not that important compared to the first two. I'm thinking of completing the first module in 6 hrs. And pull an all nighter for the 4th module and learn the 3rd module tomorrow. The time rn is 5.40 pm. My exams on 1.30 pm tomorrow

We officially start studying at 6.00 pm. Hopefully things will work out better than expected. Cheers to me,my bravery, my audacity and to my potato head. I will update whenever I feel like I've made progress or every 2 hrs 👍ig that'll be good enough for a start. Wish me luck..

Update 1

So now it's 9.00pm . 3 hours have gone by and I'm halfway through the first module. I had a 1 hr break in between ig..😅. Not in one stretch though.. I also had fresh watermelons 🍉 they were cold so that was nice. And..there's a change of plans I've decided not to learn the 4th module in depth that is just cover the bare minimum. Instead of which I'll revise both the modules and hopefully cover the third simultaneously. So far things are going good I'd say. Ig I'll finish the 1st module by 2 am. And from then on to 5 am I'll revise. I kinda want to finish off by 12 though..let's see..well that's the update

[aveer4732]

These past few days have been very weird for me, it’s as if I’ve been through a 100 roller coasters in the past 5 days. Idk, I’ve gone through about 5 panic attacks 6 episodes of ‘I want to cry and I can’t move’ and the most recent thing has been me being okay with everything around me. So far from what I’ve seen, this is the time I’m seeing all my friends getting together, my best friend back with the love of his life, my other best friend with someone she adores a person I used to like almost with a great guy and one of my exes together with a guy who she’s really really into. Naturally my mind expects more of this to happen for other people and it’s great, but it’s times like these where I’d try to be happy for others and wish them the best of luck while suffering inside wishing I had someone to enjoy spring with. But it feels a bit different? I’ve come to the Realisation that there’s no one I would settle for and I don’t want “fine” or “just fine” I want someone who can give me as much as I can give them and I have friends who surround me with love and compassion and those who make me laugh everyday. These friends may wake me up at 8 am to study cuz they know I won’t unless they wake me up, or they laugh with me if I’m feeling down, they may spend time with me even though they may have an exam, or say something dumb that makes me smile. The point is in the season of people getting together and couples walking around together holding hands and falling in love, for the first time in about 3 year, I don’t feel sad, I don’t crave a relationship and I don’t feel left out.

[jishyucks]

Eight Count ‣ lmh

‣ genre: fluff, enemies-to-lovers, hogwarts!au, I think it's a slow burn

‣ wc: 10.8k

‣ summary: "There's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." ; in which fate decides to be an ass and make you and Minho dance partners

‣ an: I'm sosososo sorry @ whoever requested this bc of how long it took. I didn't mean for it to be so long but it kept going and uni is to blame bc all of the work :(( but anyways enjoy !!

i.

You feel the beat of your heart quicken as you maneuver through the maze of corridors that you had begun to approach. Time was ticking. The first classes of the day had already started about half an hour ago, and here you were, racing down the stone hallways, tardy and a bit dazed.

It had only been a mere five minutes since you had woken up in the dormitories in pure panic, the realization that everyone had left and you were still cuddled up against one of the pillows in your bed driving you to act quick. You could accuse your housemates of not even bothering to check if you were alive, but you soon decided to place the blame on your body's restlessness and inability to go to sleep when you wished. You wouldn't call it insomnia, but your sleeping patterns weren't normal either.

Approaching the dance room with a quiet sigh of relief, you tug at the wooden door and peek in, hoping that you weren't barging in at such a humiliating time.

Scattered around the rather room, students were paired in twos. Each couple's bodies had been facing each other, hands sitting awkwardly in the other's while their faces were turned towards the dance instructors, Professor Shin and Professor Na. By the look on Professor Shin's face, it was evident that she was about to continue speaking, but the door swinging open had caught her attention.

"Ahh Y/N, nice of you to finally join us," she clasped her hands in genuine excitement, passion towards dance obviously bubbling up inside of her.

You grinned crudely and bowed your head, "W-what should I do, Professor?" Spotting your best friend Felix within the group of students, he tried his best to send you a look of 'we were supposed to be partners'. You shot him an apologetic expression back before turning your attention back to both professors.

After a brief pause in thought, Professor Na's face lit up, "Ah yes! Lee Minho lacks a partner as of now!" Following the eyes of your teacher, they brought your line of sight to the far corner of the room where Minho had been sitting. At the mention of his name, he raised his head to see that everyone had been gaping back at him in what seemed like total silence.

A sharp intake of air through your nose had replicated a gasp, eyes growing wide, "P-pardon?" Out of all the boys in the class, an amount you couldn't keep track of with your fingers, you had to end up with Lee Minho? The human embodiment of a wet sock?

Minho was… unbearable, to say the least. It wasn't that he had done something for you to hate him, which made you seem like a bad person, but in all honesty, your guys' personalities didn't seem to match. He was too arrogant, in your opinion. He has this energy that he carries that really didn't sit well with you, and by the looks of it, the feeling was mutual. It was as if you both ended up on the opposite bc end of everything.

It really doesn't help that you're a Hufflepuff, and he's a Slytherin. For some unknown reason, they always loved teasing the people from your house, though Hufflepuffs chose not to return their actions.

"Mr. Lee is the only student remaining with no partner."

You gulped and slowly approached him, only because your professors had motioned you over to him. If you could protest, you would, but what was holding you back was the attention given by the entire class and the teacher's who seemed too excited for their own good.

Minho pressed his tongue against his inner cheek, eyes lighting up in wrongly-fueled happiness. He hopped from the upper bench and down across from you. You blinked back at him dryly, maintaining calm yet trying to speak to him with your eyes.

Crossing his arms, he leaned forward and smirked, "Why the bitter face? You should relish in your luck for ending up with me."

"Stop talking, dead cells are coming out of your mouth… Luck my as–"

"Now! That everyone has a partner, I'd like you all to stick with these individuals until these classes are finished," Professor Shin had announced. It was quickly followed by groans and whining from many of your classmates. Though you hated your partner and wished you had arrived earlier and paired with Felix, you stood quiet, isolating the anger within your chest.

"And before we begin once again," Professor Na added, "I'd like to point out that this is still a class. We will be holding a class particularly focused on evaluation and your grade will be heavily based on participation over the length of this course." Once again, a chorus of grumbles had flooded the room.

You hear Minho curse under his breath, only because he was now two steps too far into your bubble, "This is utter bullshit."

This time it was your turn to taunt, "Why? Are you scared or something? Can't dance? Can't keep up with everyone?"

Narrowing his eyes, he scoffs, "Oh, shut your mouth, bumblebee. Just wait and see."

ii.

"Get up!" Felix tugged at your arm, voice sounding louder than it actually was. When you hadn't shifted at all in your bed, he sighed and tugged once more, "Y/N!"

"Wha– Felix you're not allowed in here!" You kicked at your blanket and sat up.

"We need to get to dance class," he clicked his tongue, "Let's go~"

"I really don't want to go," you whined, "I'd rather fail a class than hold hands with Lee Minho for an hour and a half." Felix dragged you out of your bed to see that you were already dressed in your robe, only your yellow and black tie had been carelessly tied.

"Wait, did you not change out your clothes from yesterday?" Felix jumped back in exaggeration, alarmed and slightly grossed out. His nose scrunched while he judged you through his eyes.

You glared at him and scoff, "Of course I did, you idiot. And don't act like you haven't done that." You take this as your victory as it was true, Felix had gone two days without changing, and it was a bit nasty considering all the places he's gone to in a day.

This time it was his turn to glare at you, "You shut your mouth! Now let's leave before Snape sees us roaming the halls once class starts."

Minho winced slightly, trying not to let your feet ruin the simple waltz routine that the class had finally run through, "If you step on my foot one more time, I'm shoving yours up your arse." His teeth were gritted in frustration, looking down at you with narrowed eyes.

"Then stop stepping on my feet," you muttered back, hoping that no one else, especially the professors, were hearing you two bicker.

It had only been about two lessons into the class and that amount of times that Minho had purposefully disrupted the routine… as if it were good, to begin with.

The two of you found it difficult to fall in sync with each other. It was always either going too fast or too slow, someone making an 'accidental' mistake, and Minho's favourite, holding your hand and hip with a tight and stubborn grip. It wasn't evident whether he was doing it on purpose, either, but you had pointed it out plenty of times, and he never seemed to loosen them.

"I'm not stepping on them," he pushed you back a little too early in the dance, causing you to stumble on your own feet. This caught the attention of those around you, though they carried on almost immediately after.

"Tell that to my bruised toe," you argued back.

As if you were being blessed, the music had finally come to an end. You promptly retracting your arms and to your body and taking a step back from Minho. He had done the same, going an extra mile to turn away from you and to the professors.

"Perfect! Perfect!" Professor Na's face lit up from excitement, "Now that we have learned this simple routine, next class we are moving on to one of the actual dances done in the Yule Ball as tradition. I hope you all are excited as I am!" Very few students had taken time to let out a "whoop" while everyone else, including you, chose to retrieve their books at the seats.

Felix approached you with a pitiful smile. He already knew what you were going to say, patting your back gently, "So how was it?"

Exhausted, you just shook your head and shrugged. Being partners with Minho honestly had been completely draining for you, mentally and physically, which was unusual as you could often live through such situations without feeling the need to scream.

"What else do you think?"

Felix nodded apologetically and puffed out his cheeks, "Is it as bad as the potions exam we had in fourth year?" He shuddered subtly and led you out of the classroom. Just thinking about that exam made Felix want to claw at his brain. If there was a way to take a particular memory and make it disappear from the chamber of long term memories, he would. Maybe then he'd be able to get a few more hours of sleep.

"Yes," you replied simply. The test was equally as horrible for you, but a test didn't force you to 'create chemistry' with a certain Slytherin.

"You're lying… can't be that bad," Felix laughed lightly.

"Easy for you to say," you sighed.

From behind, you feel someone bump your shoulder and pass by you, "Oops," he snickered, walking backwards to watch your reaction. The only thing he was missing was popcorn.

You turned to see Minho and rolled your eyes, "Ha-Ha, you're so funny, Lee Minho." Such a childish joke and you guys were almost leaving Hogwarts.

Though your reply had been dripping in sarcasm, Minho's wit had dodged it entirely, "Well thank you very much," he bowed, more like a manly curtsy, before he ran off, leaving Felix slightly puzzled at what just happened.

"Don't you see how much of a dingbat he is? He constantly chooses to pick on me just to get a reaction out of me," you utter, "He should be glad I was raised to be patient, if not I'd be hexing him like the world was near its end."

"I see a pattern," Felix hummed. The expression on his face looked as if he had come to an incredible epiphany.

Making a face, you click your tongue, "What do you even mean by that?" What pattern? Green, white, green, white? Minho and his constant need to be the crow to your crops?

Felix patted your head, "You're slow sometimes, you know that right?" He puffed his cheeks up and raised his brows as he looked down at you as if you were a kid.

"Can you just spit it out?" you narrowed your eyes at him before you physically pried his hand off your head.

"Minho does all of that just to get a reaction out of you," Felix presses his lips into a thin line, slowly forming a smile.

Finally arriving at the next classroom, you groaned, "You basically repeated what I said earlier…"

"If you didn't know this already, boys love getting attention from someone they are attracted to," Felix plopped into his seat. You followed right after, "I should know… I'm a boy."

You almost laugh at the tone of his voice. The confidence and the look he gave you to emphasize his statement; was all too funny, "So what you're saying is… Lee Minho has a – and god forbid– crush on me?" Felix nods like a young child, with eyes wide and a tight-lipped smile.

"Bollocks," You burst out laughing, "Felix, I love you, don't get me wrong, but you've never said anything more rubbish in the years I've known you."

"The chances are never zero," Felix put his index finger as if he were saying it in 'a matter of fact'.

You lean forward and sit your chin at your folded forearms. You eyed the teacher as she made her way into the room, "You're right there, Lix, but there's honestly no way Minho would like me. And me of all people would know that." You locked that statement in, feeling your words and emotions contradict.

Right?

iii.

"And then Y/N had the audacity to step on my foot," Minho kicked at the bench across from him, frustration released after what seemed to Seungmin was years of ranting. He didn't mind though, in years of being in the same house as him, he learned how to block him out yet still know what was going on when Minho asked for some sort of reply.

Minho tapped the end of his pencil against his textbook, eyes drifting off elsewhere in the grand hall. Students were clumped at their respective tables, studying for whatever class they had. Minho was trying to do the same, but his state of mind was not in the mood. But he was trying, he was pushing himself, that's what mattered in his opinion.

Turning his attention to Seungmin, who was seated next to him, he jumped, seeing that Seungmin's eyes were wide and directed at him, "What the hell!?"

"What?" Seungmin shifted back forward, facing his own books. In a sense, the scene was hysterical. He acted as if he hadn't done anything wrong or out of the ordinary, but Minho still tried to push an explanation out of him through looks.

"What do you mean what? Why were you looking at me like that?" Minho put his pencil down and closed his book on it.

"I was trying to see something," the boy shrugged and got back to his own work.

Again, Minho furrowed his brows at Seungmin's lack of detail in his response. What in the world was he even trying to do? "Trying to see what? If you don't answer me properly–"

"Okay! Okay!" Seungmin exclaimed a little too loudly, earning looks from other wizards in the room, "You know that saying that if you're in love, you start to glow?"

"No? What type of nonsense are you saying?" Minho scoffed, "Love? Are you sick or something?" Roughly, Minho brought the back of his hand to Seungmin's forehead, which Seungmin had thrown off almost right away.

"You've been talking about Y/N this entire period, you haven't stopped until moments ago," wiggling his eyebrows, Seungmin whispered his reply to Minho, making sure no one would be able to hear him this time.

Minho's face had contorted into one of disgust and confusion, "And?" Where was Seungmin even going with this? He was just relieving stress. It's not that deep.

"My point is that they're the only thing you've been talking about lately," Seungmin scribbles his pen at the top of his paper to get it to work, "Even if I start the conversation, it somehow just shifts to Y/N. Normally I'd be mad, but since you're in love, I'll let it pass."

"In love?" Minho's jaw dropped, a mixture of emotions swimming around inside of him, "In love!?" Trying to find words to perfectly reflect what he was saying, he fails, shoving Seungmin off the bench. Actions spoke louder than words, right?

Seungmin smirked and chuckled, unfazed, "What? Cat got your tongue?" He gets up, dusting his robe off before sitting back down, "It's because I'm right, aren't I?"

Minho gulps, "Will you quit it? You're…"

"I'm…?"

"You're confusing me. Quit it," Minho huffs, gathering all his things as he was planning to return to the dormitories. This was a different way of playing with emotions. There was a zero per cent chance that he liked you, or worse, loved you. That word was way too strong, dangerous like amortentia.

"I take that as a yes!" Seungmin stood his ground, just letting out a genuine laugh.

Minho held a finger up at Seungmin, who still laughed, unbothered. He didn't like you. And if he did, it wasn't wrong to do so. It was an ordinary mortal thing to have feelings. But that didn't matter right now because he didn't like you, not even a tiny crush.

But that slight state of unfamiliar panic in his heart says otherwise.

iv.

The muscles in your arm were aching from the horrible fact that Minho had been purposefully letting his arm go limp while he was holding your hand, which somehow led to you holding up his arm with your arm. You frowned at him, tempted to let your arm fall in the middle of the routine.

"Can you actually put in some effort?" you whispered through gritted teeth. Squeezing Minnho's hand, you directed a look of annoyance that only returned with an amused look. Underneath his robe, you could tell he had been intentionally dragging his feet, causing the both of you to slowly hold those partnerships behind you up.

"I'm not wasting energy on this," he shrugs quietly, "It's ridiculous."

"What don't you find ridiculous?" you rolled your eyes, "You Slytherins and the lack of interest in anything but yourselves. Where's the excitement in that?" No, you didn't want to generalize the entire Slytherin population, especially since you had family members from that house, but you knew exactly how to rev up Minho's engine. Just by the way his face twisted, you knew damn well you hit the right spot.

"Shut your mouth before I spin you a little too hard…" he said a little bit louder, "I don't find it ridiculous, I just find that us being partners is ridiculous… who in this entire school would want to be partners with you?" Before you could even reply, he had caught you, "That's not from your house."

"Jokes on you, I know plenty of people who would be partners with me," you scoffed, and it was true. There was Jisung who had somehow been sorted into Gryffindor, Hyunjin and their seniors, Bang Chan and Changbin. And there was Jeongin, who was a Ravenclaw. You could list a handful more, but that's beside the point.

"Silence is deadly," he stifled a laugh which had driven you to 'accidentally' stumble over your own feet. This caused him to stumble himself, only he wasn't prepared for it, "I'm blaming you for ending up being my partner. I was hoping someone else would've entered the room. But no, it had to be you."

"You're blaming me? For this?" You shake your head out of disbelief, not noticing that your voice had gone louder. You were catching the attention of those around you and the professors at the front of the room, "You could have found a partner you wanted in the first place but you probably decided to stay back and wait for someone to go up to you. No one wanted to be partners with you, which is why you ended up alone in the first place."

Minho's eyebrows furrowed, eyes almost on fire at what you had just said, "You know what?!"

Before he had been able to continue the banter, Professor Shin had cleared her throat. The glares that they both were sending your way had caused the both of you to stop with the squabbling, "Y/N, Minho, I know we've never talked to the two of you about your constant bickering, but it is simply interrupting the atmosphere of my classroom."

Taken aback, the both of you had stumbled over each other's feet, falling to the ground and causing a domino effect among the rest of the students.

Flustered, you turn to Minho, "That was all your fault, Lee Minho." You huffed and attempted to get up, failing once you noticed that Minho was practically lying on your leg.

"Oh be quiet," he rolled his eyes and dusted himself off, "That was all you! You and your two left feet." The rest of the room was silent, regardless of the incident. All ears and eyes were on the 'love birds,' not entirely sure whether or not they should blame you both on what had just happened.

Sliding out from underneath him, you scoffed, "Don't speak so highly of yourself, Minho."

Minho cackled, "Highly? Of myself?!"

"Stop this instant!" Professor Na had finally mustered up the courage to intervene, anger bubbling in his stomach, "Enough!" The two professors began helping the students up, scolding both of you as they did.

"Five points deducted from your respective houses," Professor Shin said sharply, "And you both are now in charge of polishing the floor every Friday for the following three weeks."

"But professor–"

Minho was cut off, "That, or ten points off for your houses…" And without another word, you both chose to polish the floors after all classes were done for the day.

Day one of polishing the floors was practically the most difficult. Not only did the professors restrict using magic to finish the chore, but the overall idea of doing something alongside Minho aggravated you, which was why you hated dancing with him so much. The comments he'd make, the taunting looks he'd give you, the jokes that were obviously uncalled for, they all were honestly bringing you to the point of near insanity.

At first, both of you had decided to start off on the same side, almost the same corner. But the moment you noticed Minho constantly glancing your way in the corner of your eye, you decided against it, "How about I start at that end."

"Whatever floats your boat," he mumbles, "I don't care."

The tone in his voice hadn't matched yours, which you assumed was polite enough not to spark some type of that energy in him, but it did.

"Whatever," you make your way to the other end, sliding your robe off on the way. You let it hang off one of the benches, making sure it wasn't touching the floor. You rolled up your sleeves and started polishing the further end of the room, a bit relieved that Minho wasn't hovering anywhere within your line of sight. It was better that way.

The second day, you were hoping that you could get through a period of cleaning without hearing Minho's ungodly voice. He had been moving back and forth from one corner to the other, feet squeaking seemingly endlessly against the floor. You wished that the volume of the music could be turned up louder.

"I'm doing more than you are," Minho pointed out. You turned to find that he was standing in the middle of the room, hair messy and beads of sweat lining his hairline. His collar was out of place, and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows just as yours were. Did he, for some reason, look attractive, or was it the lack of light in the room? Probably the latter.

"What do you mean you're doing more than I am?" you feel your eyebrows knit together in confusion, "I'm doing the same amount of work as you." And you were, but you were working just a bit slower than he was. He had probably sped through his area with the idea that the sooner you both finished, the sooner you were able to leave.

"Just hurry up," he groaned. Minho dragged his feet over to a lone stool, pushing it against the wall before plopping into it. The music continued to play, drowning out the shuffle noises of his feet.

"No," you replied, keeping your speed consistent. It wasn't like you wanted to stay longer. It was the fact that Minho couldn't leave until you were finished that was making you act this way. Maybe if he did his job well, he wouldn't be sitting around doing nothing.

Tile by tile, you continued to carry out the chore given to you, not paying mind to the pair of eyes that were burning holes into your back. You ensured that the areas you had worked on were basically spotless, reflection or not, you assumed that shiny meant clean.

Minho had been humming along to the somewhat catchy tune, foot tapping to pass the precious time he believed you were wasting. Nonetheless, he leaned back and sighed, hoping you could finish in time, so he had time to nap before dinner.

"Why do they even need classes for dancing?" He sighed out. At first, you weren't quite sure if he was speaking to you or if he was just thinking out loud, "I feel like we'd be fine either way…" You turn to look at him, seeing that he was already staring at you down.

"I mean it's going to look nice at the Yule Ball,"

You replied.

"Yeah but not everyone's going… it's a waste of time," Minho had a point, yet you still found it somewhat amusing that the school would want to organize such things.

"I don't see why you don't just skip class if you find it a waste of time," you moved onto another spot and sighed, "No one's stopping you."

"Yeah but who'd be your partner then?"

Not knowing how to react to his question, you keep quiet. Minho decided not to follow up on the problem, thinking that he had said something out of the ordinary.

The sun had reached the horizon when you finished your portion of the room. You stood up to stretch, hearing the joints of your knees and back pop out of exhaustion. It was satisfying to see the difference between the used, scruffy floor and the clean, polished floor.

"Okay Lee Minho I'm finished," without taking a glance at the boy, you made your way over to the record player. You lifted the needle off and picked the record up, slipping it into its sleeve. It didn't occur to you that Minho hadn't shifted in the past thirty minutes, silence filling the room because you turned the music off.

"Minho?" Finally turning to him, you found him sleeping with his head sat back against the wall. His mouth was wide open, practically becoming a makeshift trap for bugs that happened to be flying around. The rest of his body was limp, legs spread out beneath him. It was surprising that he hadn't fallen off yet.

You walked up to his sleeping figure and laughed lightly, wishing you had a camera to capture this moment. It would've been great blackmail. Maybe then he'd start being nice to you. Naturally, your eyes followed the slope of his nose, then to the two front teeth that stuck out from underneath his top lip.

He had bunny-like features, and you didn't mean that in a wrong way. His face was still sculpted nonetheless. Anyone with eyes would have to admit that he was attractive.

"Done staring at me yet?"

You screamed and jumped back, pressing your hand up to your chest as if to calm you down. Looking back at Minho, you find that his eyes were still closed, yet a smirk had replaced his gaping mouth. The number of curse words that threatened to leave your mouth was countless, the embarrassment creeping up to your cheeks. He finally lifted his head to look at you, eyes still a bit droopy from his nap.

"I-I wasn't staring at you," you denied, shaking your head a bit too aggressively, "Well I was… but because I was laughing at how foolish you just looked."

An offended look surfaced Minho's face, scowling at you as he stood, "I have this feeling that you're lying, bumblebee… Anyways, this is where I leave. Finally, after years." He shook his rolled-up sleeves so that the cuffs slid back to his wrists. You let him leave without another word from the two of you, still in a bit of shock at what just happened. You knew he was never going to let you forget that.

You slumped next to Felix as dinner was being served, an expression almost as heavy as your posture. He looked down at you, debating whether or not he should interrupt the mini montage you were probably playing through your head.

"I want to ask you how the cleaning today was but I think I already know just by looking at you," he stated, sliding a piece of roasted chicken your way, "Unless you do want to speak about it. Just eat and the day's over."

You gave him a grateful smile and gestured for him to eat too, eyes lighting up slightly, "I'm actually not tired from cleaning that stupid dance room, but it's just… this thing that happened. It was beyond embarrassing."

Felix snorts and stuffs his cheeks with food. His words came out muffled as he still chose to reply with a full mouth, "What happened this time?"

You glanced towards the Slytherin table, eyes scanning it quickly to get one quick look at Minho before you whispered, "Minho fell asleep waiting for me to finish cleaning. He looked idiotic as he did so I sorta just—how do I say this— stared at him? But it wasn't like I was admiring him, it was more like I didn't want that stupid look on his face to go away. It was amusing."

"And?"

"In the middle of that he went, 'are you done staring yet?' It was like he had a sixth sense or something," you muttered, "Now I feel like he's making fun of me."

"Doesn't he always make fun of you," Felix had yet again stuffed his mouth, so his words were still muffled, "Why does it matter this time?"

"It's different. It's not some useless situation… it was genuinely embarrassing," you poke the food before taking a bite of your own, "He's going to it against me, I already know."

"Don't worry, I'm pretty sure he'll forget it sooner than you will."

"Hey remember when I caught you staring at me?" Minho's voice echoed faintly throughout the room. He stood up to stretch before he crouched back down.

"I never stared at you," you sneered, "And why are you talking about that as if it happened years ago. That was literally last week."

"That's long enough in my book," he retorted, "Good times." A small reminiscing type smile appearing on his lips.

"Can you not start? I sorta want today to be stress-free and you're literally ruining it," you roll your eyes and move onto the next tile on your side. Minho had decided to choose a different record to play today, one the professors had never played in class. It had been hidden behind all the other records being used, and it took Minho a good five minutes to rake through all of them just to get to it.

The songs were more upbeat than the waltz music you were forced to listen to, which was actually much more perfect for cleaning to. It made it a bit more bearable than the last two times you had to clean.

Minho didn't reply, though you didn't see how he switched glances between you and the mechanical polisher in hand. The track had shifted into a faster song, something that was easy to dance to. From where he stood, he could see your knitted eyebrows, eyes dropping from the slight fatigue blanketing over you after a long school day.

Upon awareness that his shoulders were slumped, he straightened himself and sighed. This week had indeed been a long week, and it was evident in some way in both of you. This was the last of the week's labour before he could go and relax while mindlessly saving his homework for Sunday.

The music had been tempting to let go earlier than he should for the week, the steady beat and the catchy melody filling the room.

Putting the polisher and the rag down, he took a few steps towards you, still contemplating whether he should do what he was thinking or not. He was unsure whether it was bizarre for him to pull such a thing. But you did say you wanted a stress-free day, so he thought he should switch up a bit.

He started moving his body to the rhythm of the music, head bobbing as it took over him naturally. It was easier dancing alone than with a partner, that's for sure, but he wanted to invite you.

"Y/N!" He was freestyling, arms flailing and legs bringing him across the room with a swift movement.

You sighed, "What now?" Turning to Minho, you find him in the middle of the dance room, doing what the room was made for. He had a foreign smile on his face, not the usual smirk you'd find him sporting.

"What the–"

"Join me!"

You went through several different emotions in seconds, confusion, amusement, joy, contemplation… how were you supposed to react to a goofy Minho?

"Join me!" He repeated. This time he approached you, hands out in invitation, "C'mon it's fun!"

"Minho, we have to finish this so we can leave, remember?" You tried to keep a stern look on your face, yet you couldn't hold back the smile that had been forcing itself out. Minho suited this look; It was happier and carefree. You didn't know that his eyes would light up when he smiled a somewhat gummy smile.

"I know, but let's take a break," being the impatient boy he was, he took hold of your hands and pulled you up. He led you in a dance that probably wasn't considered a partner dance. He just pushed your arms back and forth like those scenes in the movies.

"Minho!" You finally let out a laugh, feet unable to keep up with his. He was sidestepping left, then sidestepping right, then back and forth, all unplanned. You stumbled, letting out joyful laughter that was rare around Minho. He laughed along with you, eyes disappearing the bigger his smile got.

When your legs had gotten worn out from constant movement, you tripped over one of them, sending you and your dance partner to the ground. Instead of erupting anger that would have usually washed over you, fits of laughter fell in its place, echoing throughout the room.

Before you could ask if he was okay, you hear footsteps enter the room, a confused Professor Shin staring the both of you down, "What are you two doing?! This is not polishing the floors!" The exasperation changed the normal hue of her skin into a shade of crimson.

Quickly apologizing, you get up and return to your so-called 'stations,' not being able to say another word about what had just happened to each other.

You wouldn't admit it out loud, not in front of Minho at least… but that was the most fun you've had in weeks.

Little did you know, Minho felt the same way.

v.

There was a part of you who had gotten used to Minho's horrible dancing after two weeks of dancing classes. After what happened last week, there was a tiny sliver of toleration that had surfaced from both of you. It was mutual. But obviously, neither of you were going to admit it.

Though Minho was starting to get somewhat bearable, there were still days when he'd begin to act up, smirk pinned tightly on his lips while he mischievously pranced about in the dance room. Today was one of those days.

When Professor had slipped the record onto the play, dropping the needle onto the very edge and starting it, Minho had chosen to let his body go heavy, relying on you to haul him around like a giant, weighted ragdoll. You knew he wasn't tired, just judging by the look in his eyes.

"Give it up," you tugged him roughly in one direction, then again towards another, feet hardly following the steps the class was taught the past few weeks. If Minho let his body grow just a bit limper than it already was, his head would have fallen directly onto your shoulder. If you were being honest, you didn't want any attention from anyone else in the room, "Lee Minho, I'm not in the mood for this today, okay?"

Minho's ears perked at the foreign tone that had slipped from your lips, sensing that you were being serious. You would tell him to quit it most days, but never with that tone; It was no fun if you weren't fighting back. Sighing quietly, he had picked his body up and started to follow the eight-count that Professor Shin was practically yelling out.

This minor change didn't go unnoticed by you, feeling his body grow lighter just moments after you'd ask him to quit it. Did he just…?

Other students in the room were surprised that you two were going more than thirty seconds without arguing like a married couple. Many sets of eyes didn't bother leaving the both of you, watching what would happen next in the twist of events.

Minho's feet carried his body swiftly; for the first time, he was guiding you like he was supposed to, but his eyes were glued to his feet, not wanting it to become weird if he were to make accidental eye contact with you. He didn't like how quiet it was between the both of you. The music didn't even do its purpose by filling the silence.

"Are you going to the Yule Ball?" Minho asked awkwardly. He twirled you as part of the dance. He recognized that look on your face which was basically a wordless reply, "That was probably a dumb question." Shaking his head, Minho mentally slapped himself. Never in his life did he fail with words.

"Of course I'm going," you replied rather expressionless, "Why would I not?" You were almost as confused as earlier. Minho trying to make a civilized conversation. Who the fuck was this? It wasn't Minho.

He shrugs, "I don't know… I guess you have a date…?" Minho, what the fuck. He squeezed his eyes shut as if the stone floor would swallow him wholly to take him away from this situation.

As puzzled as you were, you still decided to keep the conversation as it was, "Nope… I think I'm just going with Felix for fun." You tried to keep your tone calm when really you were freaking out. The only thing was you had no idea why you were freaking out, "Y-you?" Facepalm.

"No one."

None of you chose to speak after, not knowing where the conversation was going. The song was slowly reaching the end, which you had wished came sooner. Minho's hands were growing sweaty, and you wanted nothing more than to wipe your hand off. It was getting hot in the room too. Your collar was growing tight, throat itching for water.

Minho's heart was beating a bit too fast for his liking, but it was probably because he was growing tired from the moving. He wondered if you could feel how sweaty his hands were getting. Embarrassing.

"Final counts!" Professor Na called out before the static of the record player replaced the music. The two of the professors had clapped in adoration, overlooking all the students in the room.

Professor Shin had a broad smile on her face, "Beautiful! Gorgeous! Best one so far!" She twirled in place, "Thank you everyone! The Yule ball is in two weeks so I am very pleased with the effort you all are putting into this class! Remember we still have the final class in which you are graded, which I'm sure you all will ace."

"I couldn't care less," Minho mumbled, only so you could hear.

You turn to him, squinting your eyes and tilting your head to express your slight frustration, "You know I'm your partner right?"

"Oh no~ really?," he stuffed his hands into his pockets, "And?"

"And? I don't want to fail this class, even though I'm forced to dance with you," you stated, "So don't you fucking dare fail us both." That tone in your voice was evident once again, catching Minho off guard. The only reason that it had this effect on him was that he was so used to you choosing to fight back. It was like some sort of reminder that everyone around him was getting old, and soon all those around him were expected to be serious.

Nevertheless, Minho shrugs to annoy you, "Whatever."

Instead of answering, you eyed him once more. Your dancing just a few moments ago says otherwise.

You had practically sighed out the total capacity of your lungs as you hung onto Felix's arms on the way out the door.

"What are you sighing about?" He chuckled.

"You already know," you elbowed him.

Felix rolled his eyes and sang, "I saw you guys dancing earlier~."

You pushed him away gently, shock littering your face and posture, "What the bloody hell are you on about now, Lee?"

"You guys actually look cute together when you aren't babbling and all," he grinned innocently. Your heart had the audacity to skip a beat, startling you just as much as Felix did.

"Cute?" You scoffed, "First you said you think he liked me, now this? Are you his wingman or something? Are you trying to get me to like him?"

Felix skipped in his step, "I don't even talk to Minho, Y/N, don't be ridiculous… wait… did you basically just say you're starting to like him?" He gasped, hand slapping over his mouth, which had fallen in shock.

"No," you say flatly.

"Liar," Felix poked at your rib, "Liar. At least confess that you find him less bad."

"Sure, whatever makes you happy, Felix."

When you had fallen out of Felix's line of sight, you let the corner of your mouths turn up slightly. He said we looked cute, you think, only followed by you flicking yourself in the temple.

-

"I thought you were staying here until it closed?" you frown at Felix, who started gathering his stuff. You both had planned on cramming everything in for a test the next day, but plans didn't go as planned when Felix was eager to go back to the dormitories to sleep until the morning.

"My eyes are going to fall out of their sockets if I don't go and sleep, Y/N," he pats your head as if he were talking to a young child, "You can stay if you want. I know how much you hate studying in the common room." He double-checks his area to ensure he hadn't forgotten any of his belongings before patting your head once more. He grins and turns towards the door of the library, leaving you sitting alone at the table.

"Felix ~" You called out quietly, only for him to wave with his back facing you. You sighed and slumped back in your chair, resting your arms on the handles. Libraries were so much better when you had company.

The words in the textbook were starting to turn into blobs of ink, and for a second, you were thinking about following in Felix's footsteps. After moments of consideration, you shook your head and sat up. You'll stay, even if it was against the will of your fatigue self that had been prompting you to leave. This was all your fault anyway. Procrastination was a cruel thing.

Hunching forward, you let your eyes trace over the words, trying to process the information. You rewrote the info you wished to remember carelessly. Your notes resembled chicken scratch, but at this point, you didn't care because it was simply supplementary to your studying. The sun was close to its horizon, and the library was close to empty. It was somewhat more motivating.

Slowly the information had started to get more interesting. It was easier to run through the key terms and ideas listed in the textbook, and you could feel the exhaustion simply leaving your body. I'll finish this one last chapter and then save the rest for lunch tomorrow.

Your focus on the book had hindered your peripheral vision that the presence of another wizard floating over your shoulder went unnoticed. It was only until they had sat down next to you when you finally noticed.

You jumped in your seat, eyes growing wide. You had luckily suppressed your scream with your hand, which you had, out of defense, swung forward, slapping the person in the chest.

"Ow! What was that for?"

"You don't sneak up on people like that, Minho," you rolled your eyes at the Slytherin, shifting away from him before turning your attention back towards the textbook. He scooches closer with intentions of irritating you, pushing his face towards your book, "What are you doing?"

You push him away and stick one of the thicker books between you both, "What does it look like?"

"Studying?"

"You're smarter than I thought, Lee Minho," sarcasm dripped from your voice as you glared at him. Attempting to continue with the final chapter, you miserably fail when Minho interrupts your concentration by tapping his fingers loudly against the wooden table.

"Don't you have anything better to do?" you say numbly, voice muffled by your robe, "I was literally just sitting here and you decide to do this."

Minho shrugs and uses his arms as a makeshift pillow, "I was bored, saw you, here I am, I'm here to stay."

Your eyebrows furrowed at the fact that Minho decided to 'spend time with you upon seeing you. You had no idea whether to feel flattered or irritated, but you knew you were confused. He could've just gone back to the Slytherin dungeons to sit with his housemates, but he saw you and decided to sit with you.

Staring blankly at the bookshelves across from you, you huffed out the corner of your mouth, blowing a stray strand of hair by your cheek. You did say you wanted company. You just weren't sure if it was Minho's company that you wanted. Glancing down briefly at him, and looked back up to the bookshelves.

"Fine," you say after pondering about the idea.

Minho's ears perked up, raising his brows, "Fine?"

"Just don't be loud."

Minho's head tilts in confusion, though he still complies, sitting next to you patiently. You continued to read through the final chapter, which you had underestimated in length. The chapter was a good half a centimetre in thickness. Though it didn't seem as much at first glance, the pages were practically dipped in ink, words covering it from one corner to the other.

You could feel your eyes grow heavy as you delve deeper into the chapter. Your bed was calling for you, but there was no way you were going to give. Not until this chapter was finished.

The library had been silent except for the occasional click of the pen from the librarian's desk. You had been mentally counting down the number of pages left to skim over, eager to feel that feeling of satisfaction you usually get once you finish a task. It was the same feeling as crossing or checking off a chore on a to-do list.

Minho had settled his eyes on the centre of your book, keeping them steady even as you flipped the pages. He felt the lids of eyes gradually get heavier as each page went by, and by the time you shut the book in delight, he had fallen asleep.

"Again?" You furrowed your eyebrows, remembering the last time he had fallen asleep in your presence. You darted your eyes away from his dormant figure, not making that same mistake twice, "Minho, wake up."

He stirs right away, head rising from his arms. This time he says nothing, pushing himself off of the library's chair before stumbling over his own feet as he makes his way to your side. He looked like a toddler, and it was admittedly adorable.

"Why didn't you just go straight to the dorms if you were tired," you snorted at his dumbassery. Some students still littered the halls even if curfew was nearing. Instead of parting from your side at the library's entrance, Minho stuck by your side.

"I wanted to spend time with you outside of class," he grumbles. He blinks at the long corridor in front of you two, eyes barely staying open from exhaustion.

Feeling your heart skip a beat, you tried to pick out if he was joking or not, but his tone screamed, 'I'm tired.' Any other emotion was hard to comb out, so you sighed and shook your head, pressing your lips into a smile, "Sleep that cheesiness off, Lee Minho."

Minho continued to walk next to you, silent and confused about what you just had said. It wasn't like he was drunk. He was well aware of what he just said. Nonetheless, he subtly walked you to the kitchen corridor, parting ways with you with an uttered 'goodbye.'

vi.

Sitting against the stone wall, you watched the rest of the class carry out the dance routine, formation changes and all. You ran through it with them, only mentally as your partner was nowhere to be found, and the class was halfway done.

There were barely any classes left before the final graded run through, and Minho really thought it'd be funny to skip? You would have let it pass if you guys weren't the worst duo in the room, but you guys are the worst duo in the room, which made the situation different.

"Professor Na," You asked quietly, "Has Lee Minho been excused from today's class. Is he ill?" You didn't want to jump to conclusions, keeping in mind that people did have their own reasons. Maybe he had caught a cold or was doing a missed exam that was far more important than dancing.

"No word from Minho, Y/N," the professor hummed back.

You frowned and thanked him, turning back to the main dance floor, students moving in sync. Where was he?

Just as you had finished your train of thought, the door had swung open just like it probably did on the first day of class. Minho stumbled in, hair a mess and a rather sheepish smile stamped on his lips.

"I apologize Professors," he bowed deeply, following the perimeter of the room. He bowed again as he reached the two instructors at the front of the room.

Professor Shin stopped her counting, "No need to apologize to us, apologize to your partner." She gestured towards you, already looking back. Minho nodded and approached you, though when he did reach you, he didn't apologize.

"And?"

"And what?" Minho ridiculed.

"Aren't you going to apologize like what the Professor asked?" You tried not to laugh at how Minho had been acting.

Minho let out a cackle, “No? Why should I? Can you stand up so we can start dancing or something?" His hand was itching to reach out for yours, feeling like he should pull you towards him, but he hindered himself from doing so, stuffing his hands into his pockets.

Instead of pushing the apology out of him, you decided against it, not wanting to waste any of your time, "Why are you even late?"

The two of you followed the crowd, joining in at the perfect time. Minho smirked, "Worried about me or something? I know I'm in your head twenty-four seven, but I didn't expect you to be so obvious about it."

Tightening your grip around his hand, you gritted your teeth, "I wasn't worried about you, nitwit."

"Then why are you asking?"

"Because you made me sit, doing nothing for nearly forty-five minutes?" You reply as if you were pointing out the obvious, "So why are you late and coming to class looking like a mountain troll?"

"Wow, ouch," he sighed, "I slept in. Am I going to hell for doing so? Because I can recall you did the same the first day and got us into this mess."

"This is about you, not me," you applied pressure onto his hands, causing him to stumble back slightly, ruining the rhythm he had built up. He furrowed his brows at you and did the same, only you were somehow ready for it.

"Oh please," Minho rolls his eyes, "You've done the same so you shouldn't even be mad at me."

"I'm only frustrated, not mad, there's a difference," you point out, "And I'm frustrated because we have that graded dance next week. If we fail, it's going to be your fault."

"It takes two to tango," he quoted, "And you already know where I stand on that. I don't ca-"

"Shut up, the professors are looking," you warned, flashbacks to the three weeks you had to polish the floors.

Minho laughed slightly, letting air blow out of his nose. He let his eyes drift down at you, keeping them there for a little too long.

"What?"

"Nothing," he shrugged, spinning you along with the other students, "You just looked way too terrified." The next move had the two of you closer than the initial space between you.

"I don't want to be spending an extra three hours with you after classes polishing the floor," you retort sharply. Instead of holding eye contact with him, you stared at the Slytherin crest on his uniform.

"I know you liked spending time with me, don't lie," he rolled his eyes teasingly.

"I'm not lying."

"You staring at me says otherwise."

"Oh hush about that already, I literally told you that I wasn't staring at you," Inwardly cringing, you felt relief once the music had stopped. You stepped back and eyed down the boy in front of you, "Why do keep bringing that up?"

Before Minho could give reasoning, Professor Na had spoken up from across the room, reminding everyone that the next class was the graded class. Though they wouldn't be strict with grading, he still wanted to see the students' effort 'flowing'. After a chorus of groans, class ended, allowing you to avoid Minho and find your way to Felix.

-

Someone tapping your shoulder had woken you up, head jolting up as if you were frightened.

"Oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Chaeryeong gasped sheepishly. She was hovering over you slightly, eyes wide. She was changed into her nightwear.

You sat up, only now realizing you had fallen asleep in the common room, "It's alright. What time is it?" You didn't even remember how you fell asleep, but you sure did have a good sleep.

"It's almost midnight," she replied, "I needed to grab water from the kitchen, then I saw you here and figured it'd be more comfortable for you to go to sleep in your own bed rather than this tiny couch."

You grinned, "Thanks Chae… I'll probably get something from the kitchen as well."

She nods and mumbles out a quick goodnight before disappearing to the girls' dorms. You return her farewell before standing up, eyes drawn to the wrinkles your nap had made on your robe. Attempting to straighten the robe and yourself out, you stumbled towards the Hufflepuff house entrance, exiting promptly.

The fireplace had been lit, a few house elves roaming about and carrying out their own duties. They paid no mind to you, as midnight snacks weren't out of the ordinary for Hufflepuffs.

You asked for what you needed, then was given it with no delay, "Thank you." The house elf nods before turning away with a grunt.

You sit at one of the tables, zoning out as you stared at the blazing fire across from you. School was getting a bit more stressful than it usually has, which was probably the reason why you had fallen asleep without knowing. You remember coming back from a long library visit. Maybe you collapsed on the couch once you did.

You made mental notes on the work still yet to be done before the following week, spontaneously creating a headache. Standing up, you figured it was best for you to go back to sleep. Slipping the dish into the sink, you started making your way back to the dorms.

You rubbed your temples and shook your head as you closed your eyes. It probably hadn't been a good idea to be wandering with your eyes closed as you had immediately bumped into something firm.

"Y/N?"

Looking up, you came face to face with Lee Minho, who was just as shocked as you were. He had been dressed down in a knitted Slytherin sweater and pyjama pants.

"Minho? What in the world?"

He backs up after noticing how close you were to each other, "Could say the same 'bout you."

"My dorms are right there," you point just down the corridor, "While yours is in the dungeon…"

Minho blinks before he tries to move around you, eyes avoiding yours.

"What are you doing here?" you grab his wrist, eager to find out why he was roaming the halls. It wasn't unusual for students to be breaking the rules, especially Minho, who loved living up to the stereotypes of a Slytherin. He smirks at the skinship, which prompts you to let go of him, heat rising up to your cheeks without warning. You're suddenly glad it's dim around the two of you.

"I was… taking a walk," he successfully pushes past you and into the kitchen, a glass of water already there for him. He thanks the house elf, leaving the glass, before turning back to you. By the looks of it, it seems like he's been doing this before, like a routine.

Rolling your eyes, you scoffed, "Taking a walk? You're painfully awful at lying." And the pause in his speaking gave that away. You followed behind him, expecting an honest answer as if you deserved to know.

"Weren't you just leaving?"

"But my question is unanswered," you shrugged.

"I answered you, I was taking a walk," he pushed the answer. Putting the cup down, he turned to you, "I have… sleeping problems."

"You just lied again," you nonchalantly, "Just tell me the truth. No judgment. A Hufflepuff's promise." You weren't usually one to push an answer out of someone, but this situation was different.

"You say no judgment but I already know how you're going to react to the truth," he takes another sip of water.

"So you were lying!" You raised your brows, "I knew it!"

"You don't deserve the truth," he sighs. Finishing the cup of water, he starts to make his way out, not even turning to look back.

"Lee Minho!" You groaned. Maybe it was your fatigue self or the fact this felt like some sort of game, but you weren't holding yourself back, "When I said I wouldn't judge, I won't. My mind's open to whatever you're going to say."

Minho spins around to face you, stumbling backward a few more steps before he halts, "I was practicing the dance steps."

No judgment.

The flat expression on Minho's face indicated that he had no intentions of lying this time. He had his hands hiding behind his back, eyeing you just to see if you would live up to your promise. Instead of his expected reaction, he finds you smiling, something he'd only see when you were around your friends.

"Wipe that smile off of your face, bumblebee," he mutters.

"Didn't you say you didn't care about that class?" you quoted, a smirk slowly replacing your smile, "Why are you practicing the steps?"

Minho licked his lips. He was at a loss of words, nothing but the truth occupying his mind… Why the hell not?

"Because you care."

You blinked back at him, lips parting and meeting several times as you tried to find the right words to say. The silence was deafening. "What?"

"Because you care," Minho repeated. He kept his expression still, eyeing you, trying to figure out how you were taking this in.

How would he further explain it? He didn't know. All he knew was that ever since that specific moment between the both of you the other day, he took it upon himself to better his partner dancing. He didn't want anyone else knowing, not you, and especially not his housemates, which was why he chose to stay up late to do this; it was the real reason why he had shown up late to class.

You weren't sure if it was because it was quiet, but you could easily hear your heartbeat as it quickened. You try to cover up the fact that you wanted to freak out, "I don't know whether I should laugh or–"

"Yeah, whatever, shouldn't have told you in the first place," he mumbles. For some reason, he felt his heart lub-dub in a way that it shouldn't. He frowned and sighed, "Just forget it."

"Wait, Minho," you call quietly. He stopped in his tracks and turned, partially facing the wall and facing you. He stared back at you with a vacant look, waiting for you to say something. If you weren't going to be saying something nice, he didn't want to hear it after exposing himself like that.

"'Because you care?'" you frowned, "You can't just say that and leave." You already made up a possible answer to the countless questions through your mind, but it was still unclear whether or not that was it.

"What else do you want me to say?" Minho stuffs his hands into his pockets.

"I just want you to explain it," you reply quietly.

Minho glanced out the window sitting by you both before sitting down on its pane, "Remember that other day… when I told you I didn't care?" You nod and move closer to where he sat, unsure whether or not you should sit next to him or not, "I don't know… you were really serious back then… I guess I wasn't used to that. So I figured…"

There was a quick moment of silence before he huffs, almost sounding defeated.

"Did you know that I genuinely don't dislike you as much as you think I do?" He says out of the blue, throwing you off. You wanted to tell him to sleep it off again—why did moments like this always happen at night?

"I don't either," you say back, "At first I did… but I matured."

"I only ever argued with you out of amusement. You're the only person outside of Slytherin that could out-talk me and it bothered me for some reason," he laughed as if he recalled a memory.

"Me intimidating a Slytherin? Just wait til the others hear about this," you joke. He glanced towards your direction and saw a clever glint in your eye.

"Don't you dare," he holds back a smile before standing up to face you directly, "Or…"

"Or what?" You challenged, "Imagine how Seungmin would react! Donghyuck and Renjun? What about Yeosang and Wooyoung?" You start listing the other well-known Slytherins off of the top of your head, holding back a laugh as you watch Minho's face crumble into an expression that looks far too close to fear.

Minho recollects himself and shakes some sense into himself, "Or I'll make you go to the Yule Ball with me." He hadn't planned on asking you today, but the timing was perfect. It fit with the situation. If you were to react unfavourably, then he could just joke about it.

His question shut you up. Your eyes widened at him as you processed what he had used as a threat, "What if I want to go to the Yule Ball with you?"

Minho takes a step towards you, a smirk appearing on his lips. His confidence was skyrocketing, and you can tell, "Then I guess it's a date?"

Rolling your eyes, you let a smile grace softly onto your lips, nodding, "It's a date."

Bonus:

"I told you to wear something with gold," you whined jokingly as you were greeted with Minho, who had completely dodged your request. Instead of the black and gold look you were going for, he decided to wear a black suit that had traces of emerald. As much you wanted to match with your date, you had to admit that he still looked as handsome as ever in the attire. He looked like a prince.

"And look like a Hufflepuff? No thanks," he scoffed teasingly. He pulls out a corsage, one that matches the clothes he wore, tying it gently around your wrist, "You look very beautiful."

"Well, you look very handsome."

Minho laughed as he sticks out his forearm, a brow raised in your direction. Music being played by the live band had been spilling out of the ballroom; the voices of everyone attending gave the ball more life. It was exciting.

"Minho!" Seungmin had called. Felix, who had slipped from your side the moment Minho approached you, was standing by Seungmin, smiling brightly. He had been hyping you up the entire night, telling you that there should be nothing to worry about.

He was right.

"Shall we?" Minho asked. It was cheesy, but it worked.

"We shall."

Hope you enjoyed it! A like would be appreciated <3

[bangtanloverboys]

part 30 // happy circumstance

series: good bad choices

pairing - stoner!yoongi x good girl!reader

genre - fluff

word count - 1.6k

warning - nothing

author’s note - im so so so so so sorry for not updating for a while, classes got busy. but i’m back! new part! let me know what you guys think!!

“Y/N, you’ve been in there for 15 minutes. You doing alright?” You heard Yoongi through the bathroom door you’ve locked yourself in.

“Al-almost!” You responded as you turned on the sink to splash water in your face for the fifth time. You’ve been trying your best to mentally prepare yourself for what was going to happen, for talking with Namjoon finally about his actions and how he’s made you feel the past several weeks. Taking a deep breath, you stared yourself down in the mirror. Gathering the small bit of courage you had tucked away, you shut the water and opened the door. “Ready.”

“You sure?” Yoongi questioned, no doubt sensing your anxieties as his hand moved to grasp yours. 

“Yeah, just nervous I suppose.” 

“Okay, remember that you agreed to talk to him. You made no promises to let him back into your life.” He gave your hand a reassuring squeeze, “This is going to help.”

You nodded, his words echoing in your head as he started leading you down the hall towards the front door. You agreed to meet Namjoon at a cafe not far from your apartment, so you and Yoongi decided on walking there. Usually you like the silence of walking around with Yoongi, giving you peace of mind and not having to fill it with small talk. But the quiet only made your nerves stand more on edge. 

When you got to the doors of the cafe, you could see Namjoon through the glass, anxiously checking his phone. It was your first time seeing him in person in a while, he looked practically the same yet something was off about him. His clothes looked rumpled and he was antsy, his hand tapping on the table. You swear you could hear the tip tip tip of his fingernail against the wood. 

Wrapping your hand around the handle of the door, you pulled it open, warm air of the coffee shop enveloping you as you walked in. Immediately, Namjoon met your eyes and frantically got to his feet. He gave you a stiff smile before waving his hand to beckon you closer. You couldn’t move though, you tried to move but it felt like you were glued to the spot on the floor. The mere sight of Namjoon has you frozen, you wanted to turn on your heels and walk right out the door. You couldn’t do this. It was better to leave things alone and over time the pain of losing your oldest friend will fade. Right? 

However, you felt your hand receive a gentle squeeze as Yoongi leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re going to be alright, you can do this.” Your head whipped around to face him, and he was giving you a small smile as he nodded his head in Namjoon’s direction. “Come on.”

You meet Namjoon’s eyes again and you see a twinge of fear. He must’ve been hurting as much as you had. With a sigh, you made your way toward him, Yoongi following a step behind. 

“H-Hey, Y/N.” Namjoon moved to hug you, but before he could even wrap his arms around you, you stopped him. 

“We’re here to talk,” you reminded him. You may not admit it, but you really did want to hug him at that moment. But the thought of hugging him and acting like nothing had happened wasn’t the way this was supposed to go. You needed to get straight to the point.

“Right,” his arms fell back to his sides, “please. Sit.” He gestured down to the two seats opposite of him. Yoongi pulled out your chair to help seat you, before sitting down beside you. The three of you sat in awkward silence, save for the continuous buzzing of the coffee shop surrounding you. “So, uh, you must be Yoongi.” Namjoon said, breaking the silence and reaching his hand over the table towards your boyfriend.

“Yeah,” he met Namjoon’s hand, shaking it firmly. “I wish we could’ve met under a better circumstance.” He quipped as he pulled back, your eyes quickly darted towards Namjoon who seemed to have been put off by the statement. 

“I- Right,” his head fell to look down at his lap. “I would like to apologize for that.” He started, “Despite the fact we’ve never met, I judged you harshly and said a few rude things to you. I’m sorry.”

“But why, Namjoon?” You questioned, now the attention of both of them is on you. “I went over every little thing I said about him and you- you just hated him. Even for things I told you were my decisions, you blamed him.” As you went on, Namjoon said nothing. He didn’t try to speak over you, or interject, he let you say your part before opening his mouth again.

“Y/N,” he sighed, “I know.”

Underneath the table, your hand went to grab Yoongi’s. His statement scared you, he knew what he was doing? You held your breath as he continued. 

“At first, it was with genuine concern. When he answered your phone that night and then you saying you smoked. . . I’ll admit the worst case scenario came to mind,” he shifted awkwardly in his seat, avoiding looking at Yoongi in the eyes. Yoongi however, remained calm and didn’t say a word, letting him go on. “I thought it was just going to be a one time thing though, that you’d be over it and never see him again. But it didn’t and the more you hung out with him, I-I got jealous.”

“Jealous?” You furrowed your brows as you tried to meet his gaze, but he looked away. “What would you have to be jealous of? You’re my friend, I don’t- Oh.” You couldn’t believe how you missed it, how obvious it almost seemed now. The way he jumped at any moment to your side whenever you asked, the vague tweets, it all made sense. “Namjoon, I-”

“Don’t.” He stopped you, finally meeting your eyes. “Don’t say anything. It was wrong of me to take my jealousy out on you. I said a bunch of things I didn’t mean because I let my feelings get the best of me. I know it’s not a real excuse, but I’m sorry. I truly am. To both of you, I hope you both can forgive me. But I understand if you don’t.” Namjoon finished, bowing his head. 

You glanced over to Yoongi, unsure of what to say. When he met your gaze, he gave your hand a reaffirming squeeze. Reminding you of what he had been telling you all this time, no promises were made or have to be made today. 

“Joon,” you watched as his eyes flashed at his nickname. “I forgive you but I can’t promise that I’ll let you back, at least not yet. But thank you for the apology.” A tight smile formed on his lips as he nodded his head in understanding. 

“Namjoon,” his attention turned to Yoongi, who spoke at last. “We got off on the wrong foot, but I think you’re alright. I hope we can get to know each other properly, if time allows it.” His hand reached out to Namjoon’s across the table for another handshake. He was a bit in awe for a second, but he took his hand and returned it. 

“Thank you,” he smiled as Yoongi released his hand. The three of you sat there for a moment longer, sitting in silence before the air around them began to feel awkward. “I uh,” he coughed as he gathered his few things as he stood, “I should go. Got an exam to study for.”

“Oh, yeah. Good luck!” You responded as he bade you two goodbye. Soon enough, he was out of the cafe leaving you and Yoongi alone at the table. “Wow, that was. . . unexpected.” You confessed.

“Which part? Because I found him apologizing to me, unexpected.” He replied as he relaxed more into his chair, now that the awkward tension in the air was gone.

“Him liking me, that’s just- I never thought he liked me like that.”

“I noticed.”

“You what?!” His admission took you off guard. “H-How? You never met him, or talked to him before?” You questioned him as he chuckled at your reaction. 

“I mean, I had a suspicion. Him getting mad at you for going out with me, for starters.” He explained, his eyes trained on your still locked hands. “He also blurted it out when I texted him-”

“You texted him? Why?” You felt your face begin to burn red with embarrassment, did Namjoon think you sent your boyfriend after him to leave you alone? Is that why the messages suddenly stopped?

“Don’t worry,” he met your eyes with his loving gaze, “I made sure that he knew it was coming from me, not you. All I said was how he doesn’t know me or my intentions with you, and that if he cared about you, he'd let you come to him.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Because I noticed that clearly what happened between you two still affected you, I don’t like seeing you upset.” He shrugged. “Plus, I figured since I’m the cause of all this I had to do my part in cleaning it up.”

“No, no, Yoongi, it’s not your fault at all.” You turned to grab his other hand and squeezed it gently. “Every choice I made was mine, you just happened to be uh- a happy circumstance?”

“A happy circumstance?” He raised his eyebrows at the statement, not believing you at all. “I thought I was more than that, alright.” 

He began to feign getting up, “Hey!” You pulled him back down by his hands. He looked back at you with a smile pulling at his lips. The sight had you giggling in return you leaned forward to press a kiss to his cheek. “Thank you.” 

“Anytime, angel. Anytime.”

taglist: @yoongs-jeontae @chelsea-chee @hecticwonderer @absoluteyoongit @k-queen @murderyoursoul @thin-mint-yoongi @jeonjungkaka @igotyoongiverse @thatmelaninqveen @trashyemonerd @bbyjoonies @mariand @jaiuneamesolitaiire @angelbabymed @calling-dips-on-j-hope @imluckybitches @kimmalik @sammysammyswag @crazy4myself @preciouschimine @3sriracha @tipsymarklee @liriaus @misshale21 @ivywidogast @mute-chaos @xxxanimangxxx @cheesecakes-randomshitz @liveoffyou @secretlycrazyhummingbird @luv-u-2-death @sunnysideblog @chirokookie @mipetronella @minclangyyy @coffeeismylife28 @fairyunhappy @flersalomme​ @peterparkerspjsuit​ @thisetaernallove @yagirlsmiles @the-obsessive-fangirl

[arhvste]

can you maybe do some hcs w kuroo tsukishima and oikawa when their s/o is being bullied by people from school?

love me some savage haikyuu boys 😈

-

KUROO, TSUKISHIMA AND OIKAWA REACTING TO THEIR S/O BEING BULLIED

-

KUROO

kuroo is a perspective little shit 

he analysis’ anything and everything 

he isn’t called the scheming captain for nothing 

so when he notice’s his s/o feeling down or acting different from normal he will find out what’s bothering them

he’ll ask you first

and if you’re not willing to give clear answers he’ll just find out himself

he doesn't want to overstep privacy boundaries

but if you’re being upset by something he feels like it’s his duty as your boyfriend to sort it out

so one day you’re waiting for him after practice

and you both usually meet outside the gym doors to talk home together

however

this time you’ve unfortunately encountered the people who have been making school life unbearable for you

“look its stupid little y/n!”

“why are you still here? waiting for your boyfriend like some sort of lost dog?”

“i don’t know how he puts up with you”

“so clingy and desperate for support i feel so bad for him”

they have you cornered and you’re outnumbered by far 

kuroo has been waiting outside the gym doors for 5 minutes now and is confused 

you’re never ever late 

so he wanders around looking for you since you aren't answering your phone 

now kuroo is annoying but he isn’t stupid

he’s had a hunch about what’s been bothering you lately

he’s noticed a few kids often hang behind class until you leave and they seem to surround you when you’re trying to leave your classroom

he never intervened because he didn’t want to wrongly accuse them of harassing you in case you were friends with them

but you still didn’t look particularly thrilled when you got away from them

so kuroo hears some familiar voices and he heads straight over to them

“don’t cry y/n you don't want to look even more ugly than you already do”

“oh look y/n’s crying they can't even handle a few jokes”

“your boyfriend might even dump you when he sees you”

“the only ones who need dumping are all of you into a pit of fire 🥰”

there stands the 6′2, muscular built, powerhouse school national level volleyball captain with the coldest look he’s ever had

the kids surrounding you are dead silent

“what? nobodies got anything to say now? i thought we were all just laughing and joking with each other so why’d we stop now?”

kuroos eyes soften as soon as they meet yours 

he’s grabbed your hand and pulled you tightly into his chest

“i don't think much of a warning needs to be made but let me make this clear just this once because i don't like having to remind people things, come near her, approach, talk about or to her again and you’re going to have a personal problem with me and my team. got it?”

lmfao the little bitches nod trembling and run 🏃🏽‍♀️

kuroo is such a science nerd who makes awful jokes and has the worlds most obnoxious laugh 

but he’s also a man and a captain and sometimes it’s easy to forget that

he can pick and choose when and what he wants to be perceived as

and right then he has chosen to show you who he really can be 

“why didn’t you tell me angel?”

“i didn’t want to have to bother you”

“oh baby you’re never ever a bother to me. im sorry i couldn't help sooner please never hesitate to tell me if anything like this happens again”

kuroo’s warning sticks with your bullies and they don't bother you anymore

the volleyball team and coach nekomata are throwing dirty ass looks at them too nfjdsbfjs

all in all, kuroo just wants you to know he is there to support you

and he’ll do anything to make sure you’re happy and comfortable 

-

TSUKISHIMA

lmao all i’ve got to say to your bullies is good luck

because if tuski finds out you’ve been bullying his s/o

you’re done for 

this boy has no mercy

he doesn't even need to physically fight

his words can cut deeper than any knife and he knows it 

so when he notices you've been feeling more anxious around school and clinging to him a little more

he grows sus

he’s immediately closing in on who is bothering you and what insults he wants to throw at them

tuski has an exam and it runs a little into lunch 

he told you that if it runs over than you can just wait by your classroom and he’d come and get you 

however while you’re waiting you have a run in with the students who have been giving you a hard time 

just like tuski you’re a student who thrives in academics 

so a few of your classmates aren't particularly fond of your constant reign of lead in your class

“ew y/n you gross weirdo why are you here?”

“they’re probably waiting for their boyfriend to come and pick them up”

“such an entitled little shit, waiting to be collected who do you think you are”

so far you’d done pretty well ignoring them 

but that was in an environment with many other students who’d call your bullies out if they were to step out of line in class

right now you’re an easy target though

nobody to protect you

well that’s what you thought anyway

you feel your bag get snatched from your hands and thrown to the ground 

the bullies are kicking your stuff around laughing while you have no choice but to watch is despair 

that's until one of them is tripped up and lands face flat onto the ground

“you think i should kick them around and see if they can take it?”

tuski is standing there with a dark smile on his face

“so brave of you to pick on my y/n when you all have the audacity to look the way you do and don't even get me started on your academics”

“if i were you'd just apologise to your parents now because realistically what are you all going to do in your lives? success doesn't really look like it fits any of you to be honest”

the other students don't even know what to say

they can't exactly say anything

tsukishima is known to have a sharp tongue with an endless flow of direct insults 

“it’d be a shame if a teacher were to find out about this wouldn't it. im thinking suspension maybe? perhaps you should all call your parents up right now and apologise for your inevitable suspension”

the bullies look at each other nervously

he couldn’t be serious right

“im waiting”

these kids whip out their phones and are calling their confused parents trying to explain about how they could be suspended

“now off you all go, get out of my sight and don't you dare come near her again”

they be sprinting out the hallways 

“you weren’t actually gonna get them suspended were you?”

“it was depending on how fast they called their parents really”

tsukishima is on the floor helping you gather you trashed things

“im annoyed you didn't tell me. don't keep things like this from me yeah? cause not only am i here for you but, i get a kick out of it to. besides, im the only one who gets to be playfully mean to you.”

and he’ll make sure to keep a closer eye on you and keep you around him for a little longer just till he’s certain you’ve been left alone

OIKAWA

fangirls 

the absolute bane of his existence 

oikawa appreciated the support but it was overbearing sometimes 

especially when he just wants to spend time with his precious y/n-chan

in front of him, his fangirls would be so polite and supportive 

“you and y/n look so good together”

“i hope you’re treating them well”

“oikawa is is lucky”

but behind his back these girls were nothing but vicious and spiteful towards you 

you knew you’d have to deal with his fangirls at some point 

you’d decided to keep your relationship hidden for the first few months until oikawa suggested going public and you felt like you couldn’t say no

you’d hear comments as you walked through the halls

classes would’ve been a nightmare if iwaizumi wasn’t in your class

he knew you were struggling with oikawa’s fangirls but you pleaded him not to say anything to his best friend 

iwaizumi didn't exactly want to keep this from oikawa but he also didn't want to go against your wishes 

you compromised instead and told iwaizumi about everything the fangirls put you through and sometimes he’d even take it lightly into his own hand 

despite the fact you had oikawa’s best friend looking out for you, this was also a reason the bullying got worse

“you think you can get iwaizumi to back you up now? you want the whole team or what?”

yes

“stop being so overdramatic oikawa shouldn’t have to put up with someone as fragile as you”

“he can do so much better did you manifest or do witchcraft to get him to date you?”

the comments had become so common to you they started to have no effect

you slowly became more and more emotionally unavailable and this was something oikawa had started to pick up on

“y/n-chan you’ve stopped smiling at me so much. have i upset you?”

at first he’d think he did something wrong and he’d desperatly rack his brain for anything he could’ve done to offend you

“no you haven’t tooru i’ve just been tired lately”

you’d lie and give him a small fake smile 

but oikawa has given enough fake smiles in his life and is more than capable of being able to tell a real smile to a fake one

like kuroo though, he wouldn’t want to push any privacy boundaries and can only hope you’d open up to him soon

it doesn’t mean he’s not going to be watching you even closer now

he’ll ask iwaizumi whether he’s seen a change in your behaviour 

iwaizumi has finally decided this has gone too far

“idiot do you not see it’s your shitty fangirls that are making them miserable?”

“my fangirls?”

“yes your fangirls. y/n can’t catch a break with them around they’re really nasty to her and i don’t know how it’s taken you so long to see”

now that oikawa thinks about it you do cling to him a little tighter when they’re around

you don’t thank them for their ‘compliments’ about your relationship with the setter

you go extremely quiet and anxious when they’re around

oikawa had just thought it was nerves from sudden attention

he didn’t realise they had been secretly harassing you 

so oikawa goes to wait outside your locker when the day ends

“tooru shouldn't you be at practice?”

“come with me” he says sternly but he’s giving you a reassuring look as he grips your hand securely in his larger one

he walks you quickly through the halls and round to the entrance of the gym where his fangirls are usually waiting for practice to start

“oikawa-san! why aren’t you in uniform? is practice cancelled?”

“oh y/n is here... that's cute”

oikawa is beyond livid just from their presence alone

they even had the nerve to say your name?

“you know what isn’t fucking cute though? your disgusting behaviour”

the fangirls are look between each other innocently

“what do you mean oikawa-san?”

“don’t play oblivious with me you bitches! what was going through your heads when you all thought it was okay to harass MY y/n-chan?!”

the girls are silent now

oikawa is usually so charming and relaxed 

nobody sees him worked up outside the court

“there’s a reason none of you have even been allowed to be considered to have the chance to get to know me, you’re all fake. every single one of you. i hate fake people more than anything. this behaviour is gross i want none of you associated with me get out of here and if i hear one more thing about anyone upsetting y/n hell will be broken loose and that won’t just be from me.”

oikawa did not stutter 😌

king

the girls leave immediately 

“i think you’ve just lost yourself your whole fan club”

“oh y/n they were never fans if they have the nerve to upset someone they know i love. why didn’t you tell me i would’ve said something sooner”

“i just didn't want to upset you about your fans”

“you’re always going to be the first priority to me always if they or anyone else ever bothers you again, promise you’ll tell me straight away?”

“promise.”

after that he’ll take you to sit on the bench on the side of the court so you can watch him play and he can keep an eye on you

yeah oikawa may seem like a carefree people pleaser

but if you’re upsetting his s/o, you’ll be experiencing the side he tries to keep under control and he won’t be afraid to let loose.

-

ALL CONTENT BELONGS TO @KUROOSKULT ON TUMBLR 2020 PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, CHANGE OR PLAGIARISE

[flameo-firelord-hotman]

Fortune Cookie — Zuko x GN!Reader

Genre: fluff

Warnings: one (1) swear word and some implications at the end (characters are aged up)

Words: 2k

Summary: the Gaang orders Chinese takeout, and everyone reads their fortune cookie fortunes. Yours and Zuko’s spark a little something.

A/N: I had a fortune cookie the other day, and it reminded me of that episode in S1 when they go to the fortune teller. Fun fact: I used to collect those little fortunes! 🥠 Anyway, enjoy the fic :)

Masterlist

“What can I say?” Sokka shrugged with a mouthful of takeout, “I know the best places to eat around campus.”

“I hope you aren’t full yet. We still have our fortune cookies to eat,” Suki said, dangling a wrapped cookie from her hand.

You took it from her. “Oh please, like I’d ever pass on dessert.”

She then tossed a fortune cookie to everyone else.

“Let’s share our fortunes!” Katara suggested as she unwrapped her cookie.

“Don’t tell me you actually believe these things,” Sokka sighed while rolling his eyes.

“What? They’re fun to read! I’ll start.” She broke her cookie open, removed the tiny slip of paper inside and read her fortune aloud. “Mine says ‘you will be showered with good luck.’ Maybe that means I’ll do well on my midterms!”

“Hmm...mine says ‘nothing is impossible to a willing heart.’ That’s inspiring, I like it!” Aang said with a sweet smile.

“I’ll go next!” Suki said with a mouthful of cookie. “‘If you always do what you’ve always done, you’ll always get what you’ve always gotten.’ That’s quite true!” She nodded. Everyone hummed in agreement.

“Alright, you know what. I’ll read mine,” Sokka decided. He squinted his eyes at the tiny piece of paper. “It says...‘you will be hungry in one hour.’ Seriously?!”

Everyone burst out laughing. “I think we can all agree, of all the fortunes so far, yours is the most true,” you chuckled.

“Okay then, [y/n], what does yours say?” Sokka sneered.

“Let’s see,” you said as you delicately held the slip of paper to your eyes. “‘Your love life will soon be happy and harmonious.’”

“Oooh, that’s quite a fortune, [y/n]!” Katara commented.

“I wonder who you’ll be with?” Aang pondered.

Suki nudged you with her elbow. “Someone handsome I bet!”

You never really believed these things, but you wished it was true, and you wished it was Zuko. You’ve always had a crush on him. Since you met him, there hasn’t been a single day you didn’t think about him. You hoped that someday he would confess to feeling the same way about you.

For just a second, you glanced at Zuko. He was staring at you, so you quickly averted your gaze to not seem obvious. Was that a hint of blush on his cheeks? No, it must’ve been your imagination, or maybe the lighting.

Heat built up in your face from feeling a little embarrassed, not just because of Zuko, but also from all the teasing. “Oh, stop guys,” you giggled.

“Yeah, stop guys. I wanna hear Toph and Zuko’s,” Sokka said in a bored tone.

“You’re just upset that your fortune is so stupid, it’s true,” Katara snickered.

“Well, you won’t believe what mine says,” Toph said. “It says ‘you will win a million dollars!’” She cheered.

“What?!” Sokka shouted. Everyone stared at him with raised eyebrows. Then, the look on his face shifted as he realized. “I hate you, Toph.”

“Ha! Blind jokes never fail,” Toph said proudly.

“Here, I’ll read it for you,” you said, taking the tiny slip of paper from Toph. “Your fortune is ‘you will never know your full potential until you try.’”

“So what it’s saying is, I should try punching Sokka even harder,” Toph said, cracking her knuckles.

“Please don’t,” Sokka quietly begged.

“Toph!” Aang cried, “no violence allowed!”

Toph groaned, “you guys are no fun. But I don’t care, I’m going to kick your ass.”

“Anyway,” Katara interrupted, “that leaves you, Zuko!”

“Um...okay. It’s kind of weird though,” he said hesitantly.

“It can’t possibly be as bad as Sokka’s,” Katara jeered.

Zuko gulped before bashfully reading aloud. “Mine says...‘now is the time to pursue that love interest.’”

If you thought you were blushing before, you were really doing it now. Your face was like a tomato. Fortunately for you, everyone was staring at Zuko. They didn’t know your secret. Sokka began laughing.

“Okay, I admit that I don’t believing these things, but I know for a fact that that fortune is completely true. I mean, come on, buddy! What have I been saying for the past—“

“Ugh, shut up, Sokka!” Zuko barked, “it’s just a stupid fortune.”

“Wait, do you actually have a crush on someone?” Katara asked sincerely. He didn’t respond. Instead, he blushed and avoided everyone’s gaze. “It’s okay, Zuko, you can tell us. We can help you!”

“No,” Zuko grumbled, as he stood up. “I’m going home now.” And with the slam of the door, he was gone.

“Sheesh, Sparky sure is a drama queen,” Toph said, crossing her arms.

“Sokka, do you know who he likes?” Suki asked.

“Yes, and if I told you, he would give me a matching scar.” Sokka pointed to his left eye.

“Well, clearly he’s really upset about it,” you started as you stood to leave. “I’ll go talk to him.”

As Zuko rushed back to his apartment, he couldn’t help but think of you. Sokka and that stupid fortune were right. He should’ve asked you out long ago. But what if you didn’t feel the same way?

He felt so humiliated. It was bad enough that he was a coward, and that he had to deal with Sokka’s teasing on a daily basis, but now he had that little sheet of paper mocking him too.

He wondered what you thought of your fortune. Did it mean anything to you? When he heard it, he immediately thought of you and him together. But it was wishful thinking. So, he wondered if it was about you and someone else...and he felt jealous.

Zuko slapped his forehead. “I can’t believe how stupid I am. I’m getting worked up over some fortune cookies that probably don’t mean anything at all. This is pathetic!” He cried.

You should’ve brought a coat. The autumn night air was chilly. Nevertheless, you hurried to Zuko and Sokka’s apartment. You hoped to find him on the way—he couldn’t have gotten too far—but it was hard to see. Only the nearly full moon and the street lamps dimly lit the way for you.

Surely, he would tell you why he was so upset. You two always talked about your problems with each other. One of the best things about your friendship was how comfortable you felt with him. You could tell him anything...anything except that you liked him, and that you thought he was cute, and that the way he smiled made your heart flutter, and that whenever he whispered funny things about Sokka to you in that low raspy voice of his, you felt shivers run down your spine, and that you just wanted to hold him or be held by him, and that you wondered what it felt like to kiss him...no, actually, you could tell him anything except that you loved him.

You desperately wanted to ask Zuko what Sokka was talking about. Was it true? Did he really have a crush on someone? Who? And for how long? But maybe it was best not to know. Fear of finding out he loved someone else crept into your mind. Ignorance is bliss, after all.

Suddenly, you considered turning around and going back. Being so comfortable and open with each other might mean Zuko would tell you about his crush, and, had it been you, he would’ve said something by now, right? Sokka seemed to imply that this had been going on for a while. That meant it had to be someone else.

You stood outside his apartment building, staring at the door, debating whether to press the buzzer or not, debating whether to have your heart broken or not. Before you could decide, the door opened.

“[Y/n], what are you doing out here? You’re shivering,” Zuko said with concern.

“I j-just wanted to make sure y-you were okay.”

He gestured for you to come in, and you did.

“I saw you walking over in the front window. Why didn’t you just text me?” He asked as he poured a hot cup of tea.

You took the cup and shrugged. “I don’t know. I guess I didn’t think of it.”

“Well, I’m fine. I’ve been a little stressed lately over studying for exams, and I kind of exploded, because Sokka was being, well, Sokka. You know how annoying he can be,” he chuckled before taking a sip from his own cup. What a lie that was, but you wouldn’t know it.

“That makes sense. I was worried when you left so suddenly.”

You wanted to ask him, you wanted to know so badly, but you didn’t know how to bring it up. Zuko couldn’t help but wonder as well. His mind raced as he tried to think of a way to talk to you.

“Um, Zuko, I—“       //       “[Y/n], there’s som—”

Both of you stared at each other for a moment.

“Sorry, go ahead,” you said.

“Um, okay.” Zuko took a deep breath before continuing, “there’s something I need to tell you. I wish I had told you long ago, but I was too afraid. And I’m tired of keeping it bottled up, so I’m just going to say it now. I kind of...no, I do, I mean, I—ugh...I have had...uh, feelings for you...for a while. Like, I think I...I love you.”

By the time Zuko finished rambling, his face was flushed and his heart was pounding. You stared at him, stunned, elated and relieved. But he didn’t dare look at you, instead he dropped his head to stare at his feet.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for you to say that to me.”

Zuko shot up. He saw you smiling brightly and approaching him. You reached up to cup his cheeks. He rested his hands on your waist. His hands were slightly trembling from all the anxiety he felt in this moment.

“Really?” He asked in a shaky voice.

“Yes, really. That’s actually what I was going to talk to you about. I love you too, Zuko. I have for a while now.”

Zuko smiled. Without a second thought, he crashed his lips on yours. You leaned in and tangled your fingers in his dark, shaggy hair. Running a hand up your back and wrapping the other around your waist, he brought you closer and squeezed you like you were the only thing he had left. His arms were warm, his chest was warm, even his lips were warm. You melted right into him.

A moment later, the two of you pulled away, panting. The kiss was so passionate and long overdue, that it left you both exhausted. You rested your head on his chest and listened to his fast-beating heart. He rested his head on yours and rubbed circles on your back with his thumb.

“So...is your love life happy and harmonious now?” Zuko asked.

“Yes, all thanks to you pursuing that love interest!”

He laughed. “I can’t believe this happened, because of some stupid fortunes in a cookie.”

“I wouldn’t call them stupid. They’re the only fortunes that I’ve known to be true.”

Katara checked her phone for the fifth time. “[Y/n] still hasn’t responded, or even read my text. It’s been a half hour now!”

Suki rested a hand on her shoulder, “I’m sure they’re fine.”

“At this point, they’re probably making out,” Sokka mumbled as he mindlessly scrolled through his phone, not even bothering to look up. The room fell silent as everyone turned to him. “Shit, I said that out loud, didn’t I?”

“Zuko has a crush on [y/n]?!” Aang’s jaw dropped.

Toph shrugged, “it makes sense. I’ve noticed that Sparky’s heart rate goes through the roof whenever he’s with [y/n]. Theirs gets pretty high too when Zuko is around.”

“Well, that explains a lot. Those two are definitely making out then,” Katara nodded. Everyone else hummed in agreement.

“So, Sokka...do you want to stay the night with us then?” Aang asked.

“Yes, please.”

[voiceless-terror]

Hi ily and I love bothering people with prompts, so I'm requesting "a character who’s so exhausted his hands are trembling, his eyes are dull/unfocused, he’s starting to hallucinate… and his team needs him to stay awake" with Jon and literally anyone at any time (except s5 because it's too emotionally taxing for me to keep up with oop-)

Hello there, Shannon! Here you go! This takes place in Season Two, when all is not great with the Archives team. Hope you like! <3

“And you’re sure this requires all four of us?”

“Yes, Jon,” Elias sighed, his annoyance clear even through the phone. “Believe it or not, I am trying to help you. You’ve managed to alienate almost all of your staff, so perhaps this will do you some good. You seem to enjoy ‘following-up’ these days, unlike in your first months in the position.”

That stung a bit.

It wasn’t his fault someone had died in the Archives, and that someone happened to be his predecessor. It was a natural reaction to feel some paranoia, though he will admit he might have gone a little...overboard, in some of his investigations. Tim certainly thought so. Sasha was her usual cool, aloof self avoiding him as much as possible. Martin was the only one that treated him the same, probably better than he deserved after accusing the man of being a possible murderer. He dragged him out to lunches and hovered in the evenings when Jon stayed late. He was the one who accompanied him to the clinic after his incident with Michael. Jon couldn’t help the ache that went through his chest when he saw Martin still in the lobby, waiting to take him home and fussing over his bandages. 

Walking him to his door.

And now Elias, of all people, was deciding to be more ‘hands-on’ after the intervention. The intervention where even Martin held him at arm's length, though he was still the friendliest face in the room. If this meant keeping his job, he would do it. 

Though he wasn’t so sure he even liked his job anymore. But Jon kept pushing forward. He needed answers. 

Telling his assistants was another story. 

He stood in front of them, knowing he looked a mess. He’d seen himself in the mirror this morning after another failed attempt at rest. His hair was a mess, the dark circles under his eyes were turning a lurid purple. He looked waxy and gaunt and nothing he could do now would fix it. So he kept drinking his tepid black coffee and cheap energy drinks; frankly, they were the only thing keeping him going.

Nevertheless, he didn’t exactly inspire confidence.

“Seriously, Jon?” Tim wasn’t fond of using ‘boss’ anymore, not unless he was feeling particularly vicious. “It would be fine with two of us. Me and Martin can go and take shifts. You look like the living dead.”

“Tim,” Martin admonished, shooting him a look. “He’s right, though. You don’t look well, and I don’t think an all-night stake out is what you need right now. I mean, why are we even following up on this? It’s just some ‘vampire’ sighting that’s not going to pan out. Don’t we have more important things to be focusing on?”

“Elias insisted,” Jon tried for apologetic but must have missed the mark, judging by Tim’s narrowing eyes. “I’m- I wouldn’t make you do this, but I’m afraid-”

“Why does Elias even care about this?” Tim interrupted, slamming his drawer shut dramatically. The sound made Jon flinch- that wasn’t hard to do these days. “Did you even try to get out of it?”

“Of course I did,” Jon bristled. “I know- I know the last thing anyone wants to do is spend time with me. This wasn’t my idea-”

“That’s a bit hard to believe, Jon,” Sasha’s voice was mocking, though it remained light and easy. Sasha was always ready with a barb or a joke, mostly at Jon’s expense. “I’d think you’d enjoy this sort of thing- stalking, investigating. Or is that just with your co-workers?”

Tim snickered. Even Martin had a bit of a smile on his face, though he tried to hide it. Jon felt his face flush red. 

“That’s not,” Jon began a defense but quickly backtracked, knowing it would be futile. “Elias wanted us to go tomorrow night. It’s about thirty minutes away, so if you don’t mind driving, Tim-”

“Anything for you, boss,” Tim muttered. “If you could try sleeping before then, that would be great. I filled my quota on catching you collapsing on the job.” The words were unnecessarily sharp and hurt Jon more than he cared to admit. He remembered a time when Tim was always around to lend him a hand, conscientious and kind. But he’d gone and ruined that now, hadn't he?

“I’ll be fine,” Jon straightened his back, refusing to meet anyone’s eyes. Tim snorted and turned back to his desk, Sasha did the same. Martin just stood there, giving Jon an appraising eye. It made him feel like he failed an exam or came up short on an examination.

This should be fun.

_______

Sleep eluded him for all but an hour that night. The face that greeted him in the morning looked even more horrific than the day before; Tim wasn’t far off in his assessment. He said as much as Jon entered the office.

“Christ, this is going to be fun,” Tim rolled his eyes and leaned back in his chair as Jon hunched in on himself, defensively clutching his extra-large coffee.

“I did sleep,” he bit out, avoiding the man’s eyes. It was true.

“Sure. Just try taking a fucking nap this afternoon, okay?” The words sounded almost concerned, but Jon knew better. “I’m not listening to you snore in the backseat all night.”

“I’ll try,” Jon grumbled as he exited the room. A sudden sting hit his hand and he hissed; coffee had spilled from the lid of his to-go cup and was now running a scalding stream down his arm. His hand was shaking, a steady and insistent tremor that refused to calm despite his best efforts. 

I’ll sleep this afternoon, he promised himself. Something’s gotta give eventually, right?

_______

Jon was wrong. Just my luck.

After two fruitless hours of tossing and turning, he finally gave up, leaving the office to grab a couple of energy drinks that he could hide in his bag. And now he was loaded in the backseat of Tim’s car, his heartbeat erratic and his chest tight. Martin had provided them all with coffee, though he handed Jon his with some reluctance.

“Are you sure you’re okay-”

“For the last time, yes, Martin!” The words came out harsher than he intended and Martin flinched back, avoiding Jon’s eyes as he got into the passenger seat beside Tim. “Don’t yell, Jon,” Tim commanded as he started the car. “God, you always were a right bastard when you’re sleep-deprived.”

“M’ sorry, Martin,” he mumbled to the ground. It was easier to focus on something stationary- whenever he looked out the window, his vision blurred and nausea churned in his stomach. And that’s why you don’t have energy drinks on an empty stomach. Stupid, stupid.

“It’s fine, Jon.” It didn’t feel fine.

By the time they arrived at the park where the supposed sightings took place, it was already dark. Tim had the radio playing softly in the background as he and Martin murmured in the front seats, a low sound Jon couldn’t hear. He wondered if they were talking about him.

Not everything’s about you. He shivered in his seat, drawing his coat tighter around his body. Sasha shot him a glance; she always had the hint of a smile on her lips, cold and calculating. As if Jon’s situation was amusing to her. Maybe it is.

He wished Martin was back here with him. Martin was warm, solid, and steady; Jon craved that, embarrassing as it was. But Martin likely didn’t want to be around him; unsurprising, with how Jon’s behaved.

The steady drone of sound was pleasant, a nice background hum that relaxed him incrementally. The occasional heart palpitations were starting to slow, and Jon felt himself relaxing for the first time in days. It was a sweet, blissful relief- surely a small nap wouldn’t be terrible, just enough to keep him going through the night-

A sharp jab in his side jolted him awake. He shot up with a yelp to find Sasha smirking, her face unreadable. “Don’t sleep on the job, boss.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he whispered, rubbing at his eyes and wishing for just a short reprieve. But the blurriness was worse now and his heart was back to its erratic rhythm- Sasha’s rude awakening had done its job.

“Maybe try looking out the window,” Tim suggested sarcastically. “We are here to do a job, you know. Not so you can zone out and sleep.”

“R-Right.” Jon didn’t mention that nobody else seemed to be doing the same. Still, he focused on the dim light emanating from the one streetlamp in the park. It was just an empty field at the edge of the woods. It would be hard to miss anything.

This went on for an hour, Sasha continually nudging him awake whenever he started to drift off. She was probably doing him a favor- who knows what horrors lurked in his nightmares, and the last thing he needed was to wake up screaming like a lunatic. He imagined word getting round to Elias that he was falling apart, even more unstable than previously thought. 

And then something moved out of the corner of his eye- a small, dark shadow was standing in the middle of the park, barely visible by the light of the streetlamp. Jon let out a choked gasp as he leaned forward, hitting the back of Tim’s seat.

“L-Look!” he whispered urgently, pointing ahead. “Someone- someone’s there?”

“Where, Jon?” Sasha’s voice beside him was amused, playful. “I don’t see a thing.”

“Right there!” He insisted, and as if on cue the figure began moving forward, edging closer to the light. “It’s moving!” 

“Jon,” Tim started, looking back at him with an inquisitive gaze. His voice was slow and measured. “What are you talking about? There’s nothing there.”

“There is!” He was aware he was begging now, a pathetic plea to just look, it’s right there, can’t you see?

Martin reached a hand to his shoulder, all concern and worry. “Jon, I promise you there’s-”

And that’s when the figure revealed itself, standing clear under the light. It was a woman, tall and sad. Her long hair was pulled back from her face with a headband, and she had round glasses and looked so, so familiar-

Sasha, his mind supplied. That’s not right. Sasha’s right beside him.

Sasha. It was insistent this time. Jon put a shaking hand to the door handle and wrenched it open, practically falling out of the car as the others protested behind him. But he paid them no mind and stumbled forward on weak legs. There were footsteps behind him but it didn’t matter because Sasha’s there Sasha’s there-

And then she was gone.

The park was silent and still, almost serene. And Jon stood under the lamp, his chest heaving and his heart racing until he collapsed in the soft, dewy grass. Sasha was in the car. Sasha wasn’t here. But it doesn’t make sense. He gagged, hands and knees digging into the earth as nothing came up but a small amount of bile and coffee. A hand went to his shoulder but he wrenched it off, a frustrated moan bubbling out of his throat as his eyes filled with tears.

“Sasha was here,” he wailed, no longer caring if he made a scene. “Sasha was here!”

“Jon? Oh fuck, oh God what do we do, something’s wrong-”

“Just pick him up, Martin, get him back in the car!”

Jon was hauled to his feet but his legs were shaky and useless; Martin cursed and scooped him up instead, unbearably gentle. He tugged at Martin’s shirt, desperate for someone to listen. “Sasha,” he hiccupped but Martin just hushed him, squeezing him tighter to his chest. 

“Sasha’s in the car, Jon,” He whispered soothingly as Tim opened the car door. “See? Right there!” Sasha, with her wrong smile and her wrong face and her cold, cold hands-

Jon let out a shriek, thrashing and kicking as Martin tried to place him in the backseat by that thing. “No no no,” he cried and tugged at Martin’s jumper. “I don’t want to I don’t want to-”

“Get in the front, Sash,” Tim commanded, something unreadable in his eyes. “He’s not going to stop freaking out until you do. Martin can sit in the back.”

“So fussy,” she said mildly as she opened the door and did as Tim said. “Is he going to be okay?”

Jon could barely follow the conversation as Martin awkwardly crawled into the backseat and tried to maneuver him into his seatbelt. But Jon couldn’t let go because Martin was real and there and the only thing holding him together at the moment. 

“Just drive,” Martin’s voice was hard and unlike him, but he squeezed Jon tighter to his chest and that was all he needed to finally give into the darkness at the edge of his vision.

_____

When he next woke he was tucked into a bed- his own, strangely. Light filtered gently into the room and Jon felt like he’d been run over by a truck several times over; every part of him aching and groaning as he attempted to sit up. 

“Jon?”

Martin stood in the doorway, the picture of anxiety and worry. “God, I thought you’d never wake!” He hurried over to the side of the bed and placed a hand to his forehead that Jon leaned into. “You don’t feel warm. You’ve been asleep for almost sixteen hours. Are you okay?”

“Define ‘okay,’” Jon croaked, leaning back into the pillows. Sixteen hours but he still felt like hammered shit. “What- what happened? Why am I here?”

“You don’t remember?” Martin’s voice somehow managed to sound more worried. “God, you were- you were really out of it, Jon. Ranting about Sasha- you wouldn’t get near her. I thought we should take you to the hospital but Tim insisted you wouldn’t like that.” Tim was always the one who knew him best. “He had a key so we dropped you off, but I thought someone should stay behind- I mean, is that okay? I don’t want to overstep or anything, but you were really bad and I couldn’t-”

“It’s fine, Martin,” Jon cut him off gently. It was touching, in a way, that Martin would want to look out for him after the fit he apparently threw. “I, uh- thank you, I guess.”

“Really, it’s no problem,” Martin said, leaning back on his heels and fiddling with his hands. “I-I didn’t want to leave you alone, and I didn’t think you’d want to wake up to Tim or Sasha-”

“God,” Jon groaned and slumped over in bed, shame coursing through his veins. ‘“I’ll have to apologize to her tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Martin agreed, though not unkindly. “But I think she’ll understand. You were exhausted, it’s not like you meant it.” I suppose that’s true, he thought. Just my paranoia out of control.

“I’ll make us some tea. You stay in bed, okay?” 

“A-Alright.” Martin turned to leave the room but a thought logged itself in Jon’s brain and he reached a hand out to stop him. “Did you stop anywhere beforehand?” he asked. “Like the institute, o-or maybe Tim’s place?”

“No,” Martin replied, a puzzled look on his face. “Why?”

“Don’t worry about it,” Jon closed his eyes and leaned back into the pillows, feeling utterly drained. “It’s nothing.”

Martin exited the room and Jon tried not to think about the key he gave Tim ages ago, back when they visited each other with some regularity. 

And the idea that it was still on his keychain, waiting to be used.

ao3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27457939

[strayfreckles]

all on you.

☕︎︎ hwang hyunjin x reader (ft. ryujin, felix, & yeji); highschool au, friends-to-lovers au, barista au, bulletpoint fic.

maybe you would’ve gotten out of highschool with your emotions (and pride) unscathed if it weren’t for hwang hyunjin and his so-called romantic, obnoxious—and, in your case, unfortunately effective—antics.

includes: fluff, angst (especially in the middle), mutual pining, somewhat slow burn (?), gn!reader, barista!reader, a hefty amount of swearing, the only consistent thing you’ll see here is how utterly terrible this is, fluctuating humor

notes: this was requested by a wonderful anon! before you dive in, i’d like to inform you that this is my first fic of any kind, so please tread gently 😔✋ though constructive criticism is appreciated !! hope you enjoy (and hopefully not cringe too much sdkdnkdks) <33

wordcount: 2.8k

let me be the first to say that you absolutely abhor romance films with every existing fiber and cell in your body.

like, you cannot physically withstand the atrocity that is occurring right before your very eyes and you have to tear your gaze away before you bash your head to the nearest table.

and though you do admit that you’re overreacting sometimes

you also admit that you’re a massive dumbass for falling prey to one of the most common—and one of the most infuriating tropes—that is falling for your best friend.

yeah, hwang hyunjin? that boy holds your heart between his palms and with every smile you fall deeper and deeper

you’ve known that kid since you started eating crayons in elementary, and since then you’d been attached at the hip, clung to each other through all the clownery of middle school

finding each other in places is like a sixth sense; it only takes you both less than a minute to find the other before startling them with a quiet “hey, you”

but time is impatient, and that timid, starry-eyed boy you knew became the dimpled heartthrob come highschool—geared with the smarts and the talents and love-laced words that sent boys and girls running after him

but to you he was always just that kid who nearly consumed clay cakes because “it looked so real!”

until he wasn’t

it just came to you like a blow to the face, in the middle of sophomore year, sitting on hyunjin’s bedroom floor on a weekend trying to cram revise for your upcoming exams

you decided to take a quick break, and made the mistake of looking at hyunjin

and my oh my was he stunning

every laugh that tumbled from his lips sounded like a fucking symphony

and the bastard was just playing with kkami !!

he looked so damn soft as he planted kisses on his coat

every single constellation you knew was embedded in his irises

haha heartbeat go brrrrrrr

and maybe all you wanted was for him to never stop smiling, because he looked the most beautiful when he did, and maybe you wanted to brush his hair away from his face because you couldn’t see his eyes all that well and what the fuck—

you just malfunctioned

because that was your best friend

he noticed you staring, of course, and had the audacity to smirk, and in a second you wanted to set yourself on fire

“y/n, i know i look good, but at least try to be subtle.”

“you look like a low-budget minion, hyunjin.”

“i’d rather be a minion than a shabbier version of gru, thank you.”

(many fists were thrown that day, and hyunjin learned not to pick fun at your clothing lest that he face humiliation)

for the first few months you were in constant denial, even going so far as to blame hyunjin himself for forcing you to watch countless romcoms on your weekly sleepovers

but once you catch hyunjin staring at you with that fond look in his eyes, one he’s carried since childhood, your heart finally has the courage to murmur into the concaves of your chest, i am in love

it gets worse around senior year

the summer after junior year you land yourself a job at miroh café, a coffee shop at the heart of the town bc you’re broke as fuck and you need the cash

and, as expected, hyunjin becomes a frequent patron

he’s armed with a pickup line every single time he orders

and every single time you have to tell your heart to calm the fuck down he’s always been like this c’mon gimme a break

it’s even gone to the point where the regulars mistake him as your boyfriend

and as if your conscience nagging you 24/7 wasn’t enough mental baggage, your coworkers and fellow seniors, felix and ryujin, decided to weigh in

“if that isn’t the look of someone who’s simping over you then i don’t know what is,” ryujin nudges you, and from the repetitive force you’ve sustained from the past week you’re surprised your ribs aren’t bruised yet.

“you act like you’re not in the same dance crew,” you scoff, “ryujin, he flirts with everyone—he even had the balls to hit on chan!”

“let me remind you that denial is always the first stage of falling in love,” felix chirps, cheerful as he replenishes the pain au chocolat in the display.

“and let me remind you that i’m holding a very hot cup of coffee straight out of the machine; ‘accidents’ can happen, felix.”

of course, you weren’t in denial—you’d been past that stage long ago

it’s just that you didn’t wanna give yourself false hope

you didn’t want to lose this beautiful thing with him that’s lasted for nearly a decade because of your stupid emotions

so you’ve trained yourself to remain indifferent to the many compliments and lines he sent your way, hoping that if you could fool the others into thinking he didn’t affect you, maybe you could fool yourself, too

but oh ho ho, do i have some news for you (☞ ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)☞

you don’t know how hyunjin’s pulse speeds up whenever he sees a handwritten note on his coffee wishing him good luck

you don’t know how often he forces himself to stop staring at you whenever you’re not looking

you don’t know how stupidly happy it makes him when he sees you smile

especially when he’s the reason why.

maybe everything about you makes hwang hyunjin happy

and maybe if you weren’t so kind and gentle and considerate during the times he lost a competition then maybe he wouldn’t have fallen this hard

but you were (and still are)

during the times you cried from laughter at all his antics

or cracked a smile at one of his pickup lines

he’d think that maybe—just maybe—he could stand a chance

but every time he did, he’d spiral into self-doubt

because there’s no way you would ever fall for him

you’re the kindest, most talented person hyunjin has ever known who deserves the universe

and he’s just… him

even if he did plan to confess, he’d be putting everything at stake; you’re too important to him, losing you would be a loss too heavy for him to bear

so he’s content with playing this role

even if the idea of you being with someone else hurts him so much

he’s content with reminding you everyday—even if it isn’t direct—that your mind is like no other, and that anybody would be blessed to have you

you both think it's always going to be like this

with you struggling to keep your feelings from showing

and hyunjin battling his inner demons

and those left to perceive the “discreet” ogling across the room and the hidden yearning in your voices are none other than (you guessed it!) felix and ryujin 🤩

it was funny the first few months

but now it’s just plain frustrating and they want nothing more than to bash your two oblivious heads together because y’all !! are !! idiots !!

no matter how much they persist, they’re always met with either a sad, gentle smile with a shake of the head or a monotonous “ha. you’re really funny.”

both have considered dropping your asses but they can’t because they love y’all too much

so all they can do is hope for a change

and change does indeed arrive when september rolls around

dance practice has just ended and hyunjin feels hyped because it’s movie night and he can’t wait to cry to kimi no na wa again

and lowkey stare at you for the entirety of the film

he exits his dance crew’s studio and is about to go straight to 7/11 for snacks when he spots the team’s newest recruit by the road, waiting for a ride home

hwang yeji’s only moved here two months ago and in a short span of time she’s already become one of the well-liked kids at school

but she’s a kind & humble sweetheart who deserves all the love & attention !!

so being the good sport he is, hyunjin approaches yeji with the brightest grin, having only talked to her a few times prior

“hey, there! yeji!” when the girl turns to him, her smile looks and feels like liquid sunshine. “waiting for your date?”

yeji turns rosy when he asks, like she does when everyone teases her about her special someone, who she’s been crushing on for weeks and who she finally had the courage to ask out. “c’mon, stop that. i don’t even know if they like me like that—they probably think it’s just another friendly date.”

“they’re a fool if they don’t end up liking you after, then,” hyunjin quips, hoping the bitterness doesn’t seep into his tone and wishing he has half the luck and strength yeji has, and she laughs.

“you know them, actually.”

“oh?”

“yeah! y/n l/n?”

oh.

o h

hyunjin can only blink at her dumbly, feeling like a thousand arrows are digging into his skin

you… with hwang yeji?

is that why you asked about her the other day? because you like her back? and that her feelings are far from being one-sided?

watching a dark cloud loom over his features, yeji thinks about asking if he’s okay when he blurts out an inaudible excuse as he walks away, zooming past the convenience store when he does

when he heads off he doesn’t even look at where he’s going, relying solely on muscle memory

he feels like he wants to grow smaller, biting his lower lip and clenching his hands into fists

he doesn’t even know why he’s upset

you were never his to lose

why would he regret what couldn’t be in the first place?

when his feet instinctively halt in front of miroh café, all he can do is stare blankly at the glass doors, at your figure behind the counter

but he wills himself to move away again, and when he does he clashes with another body

“hey, watch where you’re... hyunjin?”

ryujin stares at him with her mouth half agape, and she flinches when she sees his eyes glistening, his face flushed with the shade of pure heartbreak

“did you know about them?” he’s afraid to raise his voice, because doing so would mean there’s no stopping his emotions, “about… y/n and yeji?”

the lack of response provides the answer, and hyunjin walks away from the block

that afternoon, a cup of coffee with his name scrawled on the front went forgotten on the countertop

that evening, hyunjin doesn’t show for your monthly tradition for the first time in five years

you spend the rest of your evening obsessively checking your phone for text from him, wracking your brain for reasons he couldn’t come

of course, there are multiple reasons: like schoolwork (you are seniors, after all) and the upcoming dance competition

but you know he would text you over the slightest inconvenience, so why isn’t he saying a thing?

you rack your brain for anything you might’ve done, and your chest tightens when you think that maybe—just maybe—he’s finally caught on to you

you try to distract yourself with other thoughts as you lie wide awake in your bed: like your midterm exams, the nearing debate tournament… your date with yeji

bright, splendid hwang yeji who shares the wittiest jokes in biology and has the most colorful personality around

the first time you spent time with her she made you smile so wide it made your cheeks hurt

her laugh is the loveliest one you’ve ever heard; like dewy lavender fields beneath the spring sunshine

but every time you hear it you’re reminded that it isn’t hyunjin’s laugh, that you aren’t with him and every time you realize it you wanna cry

bc yeji’s been nothing but sweet and considerate this whole time and you’re more than guilty at the fact that all her attentions will be wasted because of you and your stupidity

you barely escape the wrath of crying yourself to sleep when you finally doze off when the clock hit two am

the next day at school, you both barely even make eye-contact

even the underclassmen who’ve heard the frequent calls of your names feel uneasy when they don’t hear hyunjin’s high-pitched voice or your shrill tones

felix especially, who’s experienced the trauma of sitting in between you two at history and feeling the tension that nearly chokes him

you’re more than terrified to look at him at him in the eye, terrified that once you do you’ll realize he doesn’t gaze at you the same way anymore

something inside hyunjin aches every time he spares you a glance, because every time he does it’s painfully obvious that he’s always been hopeless

in all honesty, hyunjin wouldn’t have shown his face at all if it weren’t for the tiny thread of patience inside ryujin snapping

so here he is, inside miroh a quarter before closing time

felix’s eyes nearly bulge out of his head when he sees him, so he sends a pointed look to his coworker,

“what did you do?” he murmurs. ryujin’s eyes are sharp when she looks at him, and he feels his blood run cold.

“what i needed to.”

no, she didn’t threaten to kill his entire family, if that’s what you’re wondering

she merely gave him… a warning

so one can imagine the surprise you feel when you emerge from the staff room, and felix drags ryujin outside to give you privacy

you both remain silent once they’re gone, neither one of you moving in place

until quiet words escape your mouth, and the familiar greeting makes hyunjin’s heart clench:

“hey, you.”

he doesn’t make a sound, so you continue, the tension heavy

“you owe me three dollars, by the way. i just wasted a perfectly good iced latte with the other day when you didn’t…”

when you trail off, hyunjin opens his mouth to let out an apology, and he realizes with a start that the words tumbling out are completely different:

“why didn’t you tell me?”

“what?”

“why didn’t you tell me about yeji?” hyunjin’s eyes begin to quiver when they meet yours, “we’re best friends, aren’t we?”

your jaw tightens, i told you. best friends. nothing more. “because you worry too much about everything; if i’d told you about us then you’d—”

“y/n, we’ve been together for a decade!” hyunjin intervenes, “we’re always going to worry about each other, whether you like it or not. and this— this is… i…”

every coherent thought vanishes as hyunjin grapples for more things to say. he knows he’s being selfish, undoubtedly so, but he wants you. he wants you so, so bad. the fight in him leaves until, eventually, all that’s left to say is the truth: “please, don’t go. don’t go… with her.”

your heart is close to breaking your ribcage when you stare at his face, you wait for him to say anything, to justify why he’s said it, but when the quiet settles, all you can see is red

“this is why i don’t tell you about these things,” you grit, trembling violently. “when i do, you say— say stuff that make me believe that you feel the same way i do when you actually don’t.

“and i hate you so much but in the end it’s all my fault because i’m the idiot who caught feelings for their best friend and—”

hyunjin doesn’t let you add anything else, because his lips are on yours and you’re overwhelmed with the feeling of him, him, him

the kiss doesn’t leave any room for doubt; he’s shaking, and his legs might give out, but he wants you to know that everything he feels is real

you’re both gasping for air when you pull away, but his hands still linger on your face and he traces the edge of your mouth, and you can do nothing but pull him closer by the waist

“still hate me now?” he asks, and you chuckle breathlessly, putting your forehead on his.

“yes, very much so,” you look at him tenderly, and he yelps when you pinch him gently, “this is all on you, y’know. if it weren’t for your godforsaken romcoms, we wouldn’t have ended up like this.”

“but if it weren’t for me, you wouldn’t have ended up with a boyfriend, amirite? ow, shit— i’m kidding!”

bonus!

“oh, thank fuck,” felix exhales, looking through the windows one more time before ambling beside ryujin, who looks pleased with herself as she places her apron on the crook of her elbow. “so, spill: what did you tell hyunjin?”

she smiles, “i told him not to give up before he’s even tried anything; sometimes, there are people who are worth taking that risk for.”

just as felix is about to commend her for sounding the most wholesome he’s heard her, she adds: “and i threatened to revoke my tutelage—his ass is failing calculus so hard.”

[halothenthehorns]

All in the Family

Chapter 32: Cornelius Fudge

Lily was the lucky one. She seemed to have landed in a large, sturdy chair that didn't even fall over as she was slammed into it. Her luck didn't hold, as Potter came stumbling right into her and landed in her lap.

"Sorry," he muttered as he blinked dazedly up at her.

"So am I," she scoffed as she pushed him off. She watched with disinterest as he fell the rest of the way to the ground before looking around. "Are we in Dumbledore's office?" She asked in surprise. It seemed to be as Harry had described, a great circular room with many portraits hung all along the wall. Most surprising of all, the occupants were all present, eyeing the students with great looks of unease.

"No, this isn't right," Potter corrected as he adjusted his glass, though he was only looking at the desk before him. "Dumbledore's desk has clawed feet. This one's not the same, and I don't know why he'd have any reason to change it."

"Plus that's not a Hogwarts view," Lupin agreed, once again at the window. An orange glow of sunset bathed his face as he looked out onto a balcony, the terrace set up for a grand dinner party, the flat lawn beyond something Lily vaguely recalled seeing on her television once.

"We're in the Minister of Magic's office," Frank managed around an awed voice, staring more closely at all the portraits around, particularly the one right behind Lily in a large ornate frame.

"Tas right!" The woman told him, eyeing the lot of them with great suspicion. She had tightly curled grey hair and tiny little specks set upon a mushroom nose. They all vaguely recognized her as their own current Minister for Magic, Millicent Bagnold. "And just what are you lot doing in here? Ministry never allowed tours right into my office in my day."

"Err, tours?" Frank asked eagerly, wondering if they could finally get some sort of clue of what happened to the outside world. "Exactly how long has this office been empty?"

Her face went blank in confusion, before she kept going on in a sharp voice. "Never you mind, you lot need to get out."

"Wish we could," Pettigrew sighed as he once again tried the door unsuccessfully.

An ugly old wizard who resembled a toad with a muddy brown backdrop right next to the door snapped, "wishing never got you anything, how's about you get on with it." Peter eyed the name, Ulick Gamp, committing it to memory so on his O.W.L. exams he could fill in the blank for rudest Minister.

"Right, well, I'm just going to," Black tried to edge towards the bookshelf, eyeing all the titles and looking for the one they needed. Most of them were so boring he couldn't believe anyone had ever cracked the spine open, you'd think a Minister would have a more lively office. Instead, while the place certainly had a grand feel with the domed ceiling and columns of book cases, a few even did have the same knickknacks he'd once spotted in Dumbledore's office, the place felt more like a front than if anyone had decorated with a care for themselves.

Regulus clutched a hat stand to get to his feet, which only had one lime-green bowler hat upon it. He got himself upright and found himself face to face with Artemisia Lufkin, a woman who vaguely resembled McGonagall. He sort of recalled her name as the first Minister to hold a Quidditch World cup in Britain.

"I've found the book," Potter announced behind him, the sounds of him rummaging through the Ministers desk audible. "Here Evans, like a turn?"

She scoffed, but to Regulus' surprise he heard, "give me that, I'll read it just to get us out of here. How about you not go through someone else's things for a change of pace?"

The sounds of another drawer opening stopped, and he heard a deep sigh. "Sorry Evans, can't do that, might be something important in here!" Then the rustling noises of papers being rearranged began.

The red head stormed past him out of his peripheral, and Regulus rolled his eyes for the display. Didn't those two ever get tired of antagonizing each other? "Look alive sunny," Artemisia Lufkin told him with a pleasant sort of smile now, "that's one spit fire you're in the company of."

He turned away in disgust, his eyes falling on his brother and Lupin now chatting animatedly with Grogan Stump, one whom he definitely recognized from his fathers lectures. Of course his brother seemed to like that one, the idiotic Minister who decided to classify all the differences in the sort of creatures out there, but he was also the one who created the Department for Games and Sports. He was one of the few lectures both brothers had enjoyed.

Regulus instead turned to Longbottom now trying to have a proper conversation with a Minister he most certainly did know. Faris "Spout-Hole" Spavin. His mother loved that man, always going on about the story of his attempted assassination by a centaur. "You don't have another portrait anywhere? Can't leave this room and find out if something's going on in the outside world? Merlin, you don't have a clue how we're in this mess? This has to be one of the most collective knowledgeable people in history, and not one of you-

"Oh, they're not going to be of any help," Alice interrupted with a sympathetic frown to her boyfriend. "They're of no more use than our photos you know, they can only say what their real life counterpart was most likely to have. Nothing of the sort we'd need for help, it's beyond them."

"I've never looked into how conscious the portraits are," Frank admitted ruefully.

"I have," Alice shrugged. "They're fascinating, I was thinking about taking up a class this summer."

Evans looked just as disappointed, but finally turned to the book and began reading. None of them recognized the name of Cornelius Fudge, but given their environment it wasn't too hard to put together who he was.

Regulus didn't have much care of the Potter brats worry his friend Hagrid was now the main suspect. That Riddle kid who had tried to put the blame on him was ridiculous, but then, he was from a Muggle orphanage, it was no surprise he was wrong. Obviously Hagrid couldn't be the heir of Slytherin, as far as Regulus knew he wasn't even a competent wizard. No pure-blood of Slytherin's line would be riffraff about the castle grounds.

Lily was reading all of this while trying not to chew her lip up in thought. She unintentionally agreed with Regulus, someone must have framed Hagrid those fifty years ago and then stopped the attacks knowing it would be foolish to keep going. This did nothing to explain Harry's current predicament of who was doing the same now, and why such a long wait in between attacks?

James at least was enjoying hearing of Harry discussing his options for more classes. He could commiserate the feeling of wanting to drop some, and then sat up with interest a new subject was being added.

"Divination?" Peter demanded, circling around the desk as James was now on his knees with files circling him. "Why couldn't we have had that option, do you know how much easier our life would have been to make up shit for our homework instead of Ancient Runes!"

"But you're great at that class," James looked up at him in surprise.

"Yeah, but still, I'd have liked a dozer option," Peter shrugged as he sat down beside him, careful not to sit on anything and block James' progress. "Looking for anything in particular?"

"Not really," he shrugged as he kept going. "Decided not to pass up the opportunity to see what goes on in here though. Mostly it's just his signatures on final documents about imported goods, some minor law regarding trade with Eurasia, food that needs to be shipped out to Azkaban-"

He stopped in surprise and looked around, Peter and everyone else with him as Evans read out the trashed out common room they'd currently left.

"Who on Earth would do such a thing!" Frank asked in surprise.

"Besides the Marauders," Evans agreed with a glare at the two she could still see, knowing the other two were still at it behind the desk.

"It was like that when we entered," Black said carelessly, but there was a suspicious frown on his face all the same as he tried to figure out who would have done this and why. Hermione's suggestion it could only be a Gryffindor didn't make any sense, Harry and Ron had already proved this year anyone in the castle could have gone in. The real question was, why?

They all grew uncomfortably still when they realized the object that was missing Riddle's diary!

"Well, I say good," Remus muttered as he sat down in the Minister's chair and kept eyeing James' work. "That thing was no good and didn't need to be around Harry or anyone. Whoever came and got it from him can deal with such a nasty dark object."

"I don't understand what the point of it was," Sirius was starting to pace in agitation and kicked a file right into James' lap by accident. A few papers scattered out of it while he kept going. "Was Harry supposed to find it? Was him finding it some elaborate trap? Who would care if the point of it was for Harry to see Hagrid being framed all those years ago? Anyone who knew him would know he'd never actually turn on his friend."

"Idiots about the school who don't know him well at all," Peter suggested as he went to pull the last page out from under the desk, while James tried to haphazardly put the rest back into a neat pile.

At least as Evans kept going they had the promise of a good Quidditch match to look forward too, until that was also ruined by that voice once again appearing.

Remus shivered and sunk deeper in his chair, thankful the sun was still clinging to the sky outside even if the sky was turning blood red for it. At least they weren't back in the castle having to hear of such a thing happening again.

"I swear Hermione would stop in the middle of a fight just to go look up a spell!" James laughed in surprise as she darted away again.

"Prongs, look at this," Peter suddenly hissed, now crouching very purposefully under the desk while Evans kept going. He froze in surprise and the two hardly even registered their friends grousing loudly about Quidditch of all things being canceled.

Frank and Alice listened with trepidation, holding each others hands and standing as close to each other as they could in the large office. It didn't matter they weren't in the castle, they could feel the impending doom of whatever had caused such a thing, and were horrified to be right. A double attack, and one was a girl they well knew would affect Harry.

"Oh!" Lily yelped in surprise, dropping the book as if it had scalded her as she read out Hermione's name. Her stomach heaved, she looked near tears. A prefect and another Muggleborn! She may as well picture herself there, petrified forever!

"Shh, hey, it's okay Lily," Alice was at her side then, as if she could rub comfort into her through her arm. "I'll finish this, alright, everything will work out."

"N-no," she said stubbornly at once. "I was just, surprised."

"It's alright to admit otherwise," Frank said kindly, watching her shaking hands in concern.

"Well, I don't need to because I'm not," she snapped, stepping away from both of them. She refused to be pandered too when there was nothing wrong! She was being ridiculous, picturing herself as such a thing, they'd never be getting anywhere near whoever was doing this.

The two exchanged a look of concern but didn't protest anymore, letting her work this out how she saw fit.

The mirror made no sense to anyone, though Regulus shifted restlessly as he was sure an answer was piling up right in front of them. Those school rules McGonagall was suddenly trying to enforce wasn't going to help anything. Then he scoffed in disgust how easily swayed the house of Gryffindor was so ready to blame and throw out anyone of his own house. Of course none of those idiots would recognize a frame up job when one was presented.

"What are you two looking at over there?" Sirius finally demanded when James and Peter shared a dreadful look over mention of Harry going to see Hagrid again. It seemed like a good idea to him, see what the gamekeeper really did have to say about all of this.

"That we don't think Hagrid will be there when the boys come knocking," Peter sighed.

"Why?" Remus sat up in surprise to snatch the paper away now. "Think he's going to make a run for it, that's ridiculous."

"I know I would if that was coming for me," James said grimly when Remus went white in surprise.

"Oh for the love of-" Sirius snatched it away next rather than waiting for Moony to find his tongue, and then promptly lost his own. He swallowed uncomfortably and could only breathe again when the boys did it and found Hagrid indeed still at his cabin. His state though made it clear he was now as aware of his pending doom as they were. Someone would soon be calling to arrest him and take him to Azkaban, as this order by the Minister declared.

"They can't do this!" Peter whispered in a horror mirroring Hagrid's, he'd be doing much more than just breaking teapots around his own place.

"Oh but they can," James spat in disgust, suddenly on his feet and stamping across everything now without a care. More pages scattered about the entire room now, he had half a mind to conjure up more and create a mini-tornado full of all the Ministers most precious things and cast them away forever. He would never let this stand, Hagrid had done nothing to deserve this! If they'd had proof of this act he already would have been locked away, now they were just rehashing an old suspect, and for what? To put the blame on anyone? Or the half-giant.

Dumbledore's presence was the most mild of relief, and that was ruined anyways in the next second as the Minister himself was there to fill out the order.

There was nothing but stunned silence and nasty faces as Evans told all why Fudge was there, and things still only grew worse when Lucius Malfoy arrived.

Regulus tried to look relieved, but he couldn't find the feeling anywhere in him. The pure-blood stepping in would surely make all of this better and stop all this happening to kids, he knew that's exactly what his mother would say, but then he realized he shouldn't even be wanting this to stop. It was true the only ones being attacked were Muggleborns, and who should care if a few less of them were plaguing the school?

He did.

He hated to admit it, even to himself. It left him nauseous with the feeling a knife was going to sprout in his back any second for such a thought, but he couldn't deny it anymore. It just wasn't right, this happening to kids he shared a class with! How could it ever be right to see anyone so terrified for their own life, as Evans clearly was.

He didn't know who to turn to or what to do with this news of Dumbledore now being just as forcibly departed as the gamekeeper. He really couldn't think of much of anything past the idea this had to stop somehow. He couldn't imagine how things could get any worse as they were ripped from this place once more.

[yodawgiherd]

Red flag pt.2

>>>Read on AO3<<<

Q and A sessions are surprisingly fun to write. Rating still M, I'm not thErE yEt. ^^

A week.

One week was how long Mikasa managed before the curiosity killed the proverbial cat and her fingers tapped the name of the newest addition to her contact list. Eren picked up on the fifth ring, sounding sleepy, which she thought was strange considering that it was about two in the afternoon.

“Yeager.”, came his muffled voice, followed by a yawn.

It took her a second before Mikasa realized that she didn’t give him her number, as per their agreement, so he had no idea who’s calling.

“Hey, it’s Mikasa.”, she re-introduced herself, “Remember me?”

There was a sound on the other end, a shuffle of bedding as he sat up straight.

“Of course I do, the pretty girl with the pretty name.”

“The one and only. Listen, is that lunch offer still on the table?”

“Totally, just tell me the place and time and I’ll be there.”

“Really? I can pick anything?”

He chuckled at how excited her voice became.

“I’m not a picky eater.”

“And it’s still on you, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well then…”

The sushi place was fancy, far above her poor-ass student budget. She was there twice so far, once Levi treated her when the news of Mikasa being accepted at the university arrived, and once when it was her birthday and Sasha decided to splurge for her best friend. And boy did Mikasa love both those experiences. She felt a bit guilty, abusing Eren’s blind trust like that, but hey, he offered it first, and judging from the state of his flat, he wasn’t doing half bad for himself. If it came to the worst, Mikasa was prepared to split the bill, she did have some money from her part-time job. The food was worth it.

Eren wasn’t there when she arrived, so Mikasa picked a table, getting herself comfortable. When the waitress came, she almost sent her away, to wait for Eren, but then reminded herself that she’s , most likely, not paying. Appetizer it was. When he finally arrived, she was already halfway done with the fried chicken pieces, which earned a raised eyebrow.

“Hungry?”, he asked, removing his coat and sitting down himself.

“Famished.”, she agreed, “Forgot to eat breakfast.”

She skipped breakfast willingly to save space for this feast, but that was something Eren didn’t need to know. Most likely satisfied with her little lie, he nodded before picking up the menu himself. The evening progressed with somewhat casual conversation and excellent food. Eren asked her how she’s doing lately, and Mikasa described the procrastinating bliss she’s been living in since her last exam. That paradise was coming to an end, however, as she needed to get out of the city soon and back to her hometown.

“To visit your parents?”, he asked, understandably not knowing the bitter truth that Mikasa wasn’t ready to share yet.

Instead, she shook her head.

“No, I have a part-time work at my brother’s gym.”, she pointed towards herself, “One personal trainer, right here.”

Luckily, Eren didn’t press the issue. The way he knew when to stop asking was an amazing thing, and Mikasa secretly wished that more people would be born with that gift. To break the silence that followed, and to change the course of the conversation, Mikasa decided to strike back.

“So, Eren, how about we stop beating around the bush.”

His grin was cheeky.

“Whatever do you mean?”

“Please, as if you don’t know why I came here in the first place.”

He picked up one sushi roll that he was eating, with a fork like a damn savage, turning it against the light.

“The free food?”

She scowled at his amused expression.

“Because of my amazing company?”, he guessed again, getting a sigh in return.

“As if.”

“Wow, you hurt me.”

The smile present in the answer was infectious, and Mikasa had a hard time resisting it.

“You are quite the egoist, aren’t you?”

“So I’m told.”, Eren shrugged, unbothered by that accusation.

Unsure how to continue, Mikasa massaged her forehead. This guy was something else.

“Since it’s so important to you, “ Eren offered, “Why don’t you just ask?”

“Fine.”, looking back up, she met his emeralds with her own eyes, “What do you do for a living?”

“Care to guess first?”

More games? Fine, you’re on.

“Okay, sure.”, putting her chopsticks down, as she was a civilized person, Mikasa rested her chin on her intertwined hands, “Let’s go over what I know then. First, there is this strange… rope fixation you have, and you said that was caused by your job, right?”

“It’s not only ropes,”, he corrected her, “But it is related to my job, yes.”

“Second, when I called you yesterday you were still in bed, and it was around two, which means that you work late at night, right?“

“I could have been gaming all night, didn’t think about that?”

“Maybe, but maybe not. I’ll take my chances.”

“All right, then put the two together. What do you think I am?”

“A smug bastard.”

Of course he grinned at that.

“That’s true. But professionally?”

Putting on her best thinking hat, Mikasa rolled the facts around in her head.

“A policeman?”, she tried.

“Not a bad guess, handcuffs and night shifts.”, Eren took the time to have a dramatic sip before finally revealing the truth, “But you’re wrong. Try again.”

“Some sort of artist then?”

His eyes narrowed.

“I guess you could say that. But what kind do you have in mind?”

“Singer?”

“Nope.”

“Painter?”

“No.”

Mikasa tried a few more art-related jobs that would fit Eren’s profile, but he shot down all of them. At the end of her rope, she pulled out a trump card. Even looking objectively, outside of that “he was totally her type” thing, Eren was very attractive. Combine that with strange working times and….

“Are you a model?”

“Yea…..Nope.”

Damn it. Out of ideas, Mikasa put up her palms in the international gesture of surrender.

“Ok, I give up.”

“Guess we will never know then.”, Eren leaned back in his chair, smugger than ever before, “What a disappointment.”

Out of words and completely against her usually serious character, Mikasa kicked him under the table. Hard.

“Ow, what was that for?”

“Spill the beans, Eren.”

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick you again.”

Rubbing his shin and not sure that his bones would survive another kick like that, Eren decided that the teasing stage was over.

“Very well then.”, leaning closer, he put both his elbows on the wood, looking right into Mikasa’s eyes when he spoke.

“I’m a dom.”

The clueless look on her face was priceless.

“H-Huh?”

“Dom, master, and a hundred other ways you can call it.”

In slow motion, Eren watched as that clueless expression changed. With words falling and clicking into place, the not-understanding look was replaced by a blush that began creeping up to her cheeks. In short, it was adorable.

“Y-You mean like… like….”

“Yes.”

“Err… I…”

And Eren waited patiently, finishing his drink, while Mikasa kept trying to say a word and completely failing at it. It took her about five minutes before she finally closed her eyes, took a few deep breaths, and steadied herself.

“So you’re like a s-sex worker? P-Prostitute?

“No and yes.”

“Huh?!”

“Technically, you’re right. But since I don’t have sex with my clients, I don’t usually call myself sex worker.”

“Ok, I’m lost.”

“Well, it's actually quite easy. I fulfill the fantasies of the client, I take care of their needs, I make them…. Err..”, he looked around to see if no one was around – they were in public after all, “…finish, but I don’t do it myself.”

“So what you’re saying is…”

“I’m saying that I can satisfy my clients needs without doing it the old-fashioned way. God bless technology.”

Mikasa was rubbing her forehead now, taking the information in.

“And your clients… what are they?”

“I deal with women exclusively if that’s what you are asking. But if you have a male friend in need of similar services, I know a great dominatrix, mistress A, that can take them, she’s a real top of the class. She was my…”, his gaze slid over Mikasa’s face, lingering over the shape of her eyes for a second, “ senpai back when I was beginning.”

She groaned. He had to use that word to tease her, abusing the weakened mental state she was in right now – she couldn’t think of a comeback. And, to salt the wound, he was grinning again.

“You can’t dump something like this at me without any explanation.”, Mikasa demanded, “How did you even end up working like this?”

“It’s…”, kind of personal, he was about to say, but then he met Mikasa’s eyes and that defense he usually held up around his secrets melted.

It was crazy, he didn’t even know the girl that well, he had no idea what she was truly like. But she was here, sitting across the table, and her grey eyes saw right through him. And he… he simply told her.

“When I was a kid, I was a bit fucked up. My dad…. He was not exactly a great role model. My mom was his second wife, he left the first after having a kid with her.”, he answered her follow-up question before she even asked, “Yes, I have a half-brother but we are not in contact. After leaving her, he married my mom and had me. I can’t say that he was a bad guy, from what little I remember, but he was hardly ever home. And one day, he completely disappeared. I don’t know if he’s alive or dead, neither does mom, and the police couldn’t find him. He’s gone.”

Mikasa, who had her own tragic parents-related story, remained silent, knowing that even years later it is hard to talk about stuff like this. Eren took a small break, a sip of water, and went on.

“I had a lot of issues from that, anger mostly. I lashed out on anyone or anything that I didn’t like, punching before asking. Bloodying people and getting bloodied myself was the only way to get the anger out, I did not know any better. You can imagine that didn’t go well in school. Mom did her best to keep me in line, but it was hard for her, too hard at times. Through sheer luck and endless patience of my teachers, I managed to graduate, but the anger inside me didn’t die. Even as an adult, I was a colossal dickhead. But all that changed shortly after I turned eighteen and moved to college.”

“Why?”

“Because I met her.”

Who? and How? were on the edge of Mikasa’s tongue, but she held those questions in. Eren would tell her.

“It was one of the college parties, you know how those go. I was there mostly to get drunk and get into a fight with someone because that was about everything I cared about back then. I succeeded in that too, I punched some blonde dude in the face and he didn’t take that lightly.”

“Did you beat him up?”

To her surprise, Eren tipped his head back and laughed.

“No. The dude completely wrecked me. He was a titan, both taller and heavier than me, and I later learned that he was a boxer as well. When I woke up from the beating he so generously gave me, I saw that a blonde girl had dragged me out on the lawn and was standing there still, waiting. Naturally, as I was a real gentleman back then, I spat out the blood in my mouth, told her to fuck off and tried getting up. Do you know what she did?”

“No idea.”

“She slapped me. Hard. I called her a stupid bitch, and she slapped me again. The third time, I got about two syllables out before her palm made another imprint on my face. And after all that, she kissed me, and I realized I was never so turned on in my life.”

Mikasa honestly didn’t know what to say.

“That’s….random?”

“I was a raging asshole back then Mikasa. I know that saying it now, it looks like she was acting out of her mind, but you weren’t there.”, Eren shook his head, “Anyway, that’s how I met the future mistress A. Annie.”

“How did she even know that you won't just flip out after she slaps you?”

“She didn’t. Later she told me that it was a hunch on her part, that watching me get into a fight with that giant for no good reason tipped her off, showed her that I might have some anger issues.”

“So, after that, she showed you the ropes?”

He didn’t miss the reference, it earned a respectful nod from him.

“Yes. She was already working as a domme, on her own back then, and mostly for fun and the experience. Annie was older than me by a year, and she spent that year mostly half-assing school and perfecting her skill for her future job.”

“What happened after that party? Did you two became a couple?”

“Not really. We didn’t date, like at all, but we became good friends, and Annie would train her techniques on me.”

“So what, she like tied you up from time to time?”

He nodded.

“That and other things. We practiced on each other, but we never made it sexual. I know it sounds crazy, but you didn’t meet Annie, she’s can drip hot wax on your nipples without batting an eye. I’d say that’s part of her charm, she’s completely stoic while working.”

“And you?”

“Honestly, in the beginning, it was weird as hell. But when we kept doing it, I realized that my anger was subdued by it, that this helped me overcome it for the first time in my life. With all the discipline and focus this required I managed to be in control of my life for what felt like the first time.  It was still difficult for me from time to time, I admit, but Annie was always there to put me back to my place.”

“How did she know that this was what you needed?”

“Annie also had… issues when she was younger. And this thing helped her through it, so she thought I might be the same. For the record, she was right.” Eren was having a pleasant memory trip, and Mikasa kept silent, not wanting to interrupt, “Anyway, after I realized that I prefer being the top, Annie found me a girl who liked being the bottom.”

“Finally a girlfriend?”, Mikasa tried again, but he chuckled.

“Nope, this one had a catch too. She was mostly a lesbian.”

“Mostly a lesbian?”

“Yea, she’s bi, but prefers women.”

“You’re kidding, right?”

“Why would I? She was tiny and amazingly flexible because she does gymnastics. Incredible performance partner, I still work with her from time to time.”

“But why didn’t she find a female partner then? If she prefers women that is.”

“She did, sort of, Annie worked on her too sometimes, I think that was why she even agreed to do it in the first place. But with a blindfold around her eyes and tied up so she couldn’t touch us, she kind of stopped caring who’s holding the vibrator.”

Mikasa felt like this was all a big joke, but Eren was completely serious.

“You had this little triangle of fun for how long?”

“Till we graduated. After that, Annie and I found the agency and got employed there, and Krista went on to become a doctor.”

“I’ll presume that Krista was that flexible one?”

“You’d presume correctly.”

“She’s a doctor, but she still does… things? With you?”

“She performs with us sometimes if that’s what you’re talking about. Nothing else.”

“You want to tell me that you’ve been doing BDSM…. stuff to each other for years and never fucked?”, Mikasa shook her head, “I don’t buy it.”

“You don’t have to, but it’s the truth. My relationship with both Annie and Krista was strictly professional, however crazy that sounds.”

“Then how did you develop your “can’t have sex until the girl is tied up” thing.”

“I dated in college normally, not much mind you, but a few flings found their way to me. Then it was pretty simple. When I had normal sex, I didn’t find myself half as aroused as I was when Annie slapped me for the first time. So I tried getting my hobby into play.”

Hobby, that’s one way to call it.

“And how did it go?”

“Not great. The first two girls said that I’m a creep and left. But the third one agreed and…”, Eren leaned back again, folding his hands behinds his head, “best sex of my life.”

“Fine, but if you enjoy it, why don’t you do it at work then? I’m sure some of your clients would appreciate it.”

“I’m sure they would, but I have this strange need to differentiate between work and pleasure - I think I caught it from Annie. I can’t get into it when I know that the person I’m tying up paid for it.”

“Strange.”

Eren didn’t argue.

“Strange indeed.”

All right, cool info dump and all, but Mikasa was more confused than anything. He was a sex worker BUT he didn’t have sex with his clients BUT he preferred to have the toys in bed while doing it. What the hell?

“Can you like, describe what you do then? I still can’t wrap my head around it.”

Eren shrugged.

“Sure. After making the initial contact, through the agency of course…”

“You’re still at the same one?”

“Yup, much easier that way. Don’t have to deal with things.”, Eren scrunched his nose, “Like taxes.”

“Okay, so some bored lady picks you at your company’s website, and then what?”

“Then we do the first meeting, through phone, email, or in person, that’s up to the client. There, we discuss important things, like what my hard limits are.”

“Which means?”

“Things that I won’t do, for various reasons.”

Mikasa didn’t ask what those were, so Eren continued.

“With that out of the way, we talk about what my client wants, what sort of fantasy I would be fulfilling. Once I have a picture in my head, I recommend the place to meet – one of the places owned by the agency, dungeons if you want, or even the clients own place.”

“You go to people’s homes with that?”

“If they want it, yes. It fits the best for certain scenarios, and people usually feel much more comfortable there.”

“And they trust you? I mean, you could tie them up and rob the place.”

“Would you believe me if I told you that I never thought of that?”, Eren scratched the back of his head, “That’s a valid thing what you said, but I have the agency to vouch for me.”

“Okay. And then?”

“Then we meet at the place we picked, have a quick recap to make sure I’ll do everything she wants, pick a safeword and we are good to go.”

“And you do what?”

“Mikasa, my range of services is very wide.”, putting one hand on the table, Eren began counting, finger by finger, “Bondage, suspension, pain stuff like caning, whipping and more. Waxplay, petplay, some electro, and…”

“Ok, ok! I heard enough!”

“I’d imagine so. From how you reacted when I put the rope around your hands, let me guess that you are very vanilla, right?”

“Huh?”

“It means like basic – that you don’t do anything strange in the bedroom.”

“No, I…”, Mikasa ran her hand over her somewhat heated forehead, “I’m very vanilla.”

“Weird.”

She fixed him with a look.

“Why is that weird?”

“It’s just…” he gestured towards her, “People with your style are usually into it.”

“My style? You mean black?”

“Dark, goth, however, you want to call it.”, he reached up, tapping his ear, at the same place where Mikasa’s cartilage was pierced, “And those things are also not completely usual.”

“I guess I am a bit strange, but nothing compared to you, sir. I never even imagined….”

“Well, the big mystery is over, the cat is out of the bag.”, he looked at her with a strange emotion in his eyes now, one that Mikasa couldn’t quite decipher. It looked like… worry?

“We can still be friends, right?”, he asked.

It was not like Eren did anything bad to her, and while his job was a bit shocking, he was still nothing but the perfect gentleman.

“Right, of course. I… I’ll need some time to digest this, I think.”

Eren watched her, tapping his fingers against the table, teeth chewing his full bottom lip. He was thinking about something, Mikasa could tell, but before she could ask, he dropped the bomb at her.

“Come to one of my shows.”

“Huh?”

“My shows. I don’t do individual clients only, I perform at clubs too. BDSM clubs that is. I’ll write the address down.”

She was shaking her head before he even finished the sentence.

“N-No, I.. .No... I’d never.”

“I’m not asking you to take part, there will be plenty of people as spectators. And don’t worry about being recognized or something, the club is members only and you can grab a mask at the entrance if you want, your identity will be safe.”

His words burned with intensity now, but his eyes did even more, and Mikasa was drowning in it.

“W-Why is it so important to you?”

“Because I can see how you look at me now. You think that I’m some sort of pervert, that I what do is unnatural, not normal. I want to show you that it can be beautiful too, that there is nothing wrong if two consenting adults have a go at something like this.”

“I.. Uhm…”

The address written on a napkin, Eren slid it over to her.

“Listen, I obviously won’t force you into anything, this is your choice. The show is next week and then again in two weeks. You said that you are leaving the city soon, right?”

She nodded, wordless.

“Is it far? Or could you theoretically come back for the evening?”

“It’s not that far.”, Mikasa replied, finding her voice again, “Like an hour and a half drive.”

“All right. Let’s put it like this, if you want, come to the second show, the one that is two weeks from now, the club will be less packed, and I will tell the bouncer to let you in. Just let him know that Eren sent you. If you don’t want to, that’s fine too, I will understand.”

She nodded, once again retreating to no-words strategy. Eren took it as a cue, standing up.

“I’ll go settle the bill.”

When he came back, he grabbed his coat, putting it on while Mikasa sat there, gears in her head turning.

“If you won’t show, I’ll know that you are not interested in that part of my life, but that doesn’t mean we can’t meet again. Right?”, he smiled at her, “If you ever want a free lunch, give me a call, okay?”

That said, Eren half-turned towards the exit, ready to go when Mikasa’s voice interrupted him.

“Eren?”

“Yea?”

“Give me your phone.”

He did so automatically, even unlocking it for her. It wasn’t like there were any more dirty secrets he had to hide from her, not after today. Mikasa worked for a while, tapping the screen before she set it back on the wood and slid it over to him. Picking the device up, Eren saw that he had a new contact added – certain Mikasa Ackerman.

“This will be easier if we have a way to get in touch with each other right?”

Now he was the one dumbly nodding.

“Right…”

“I don’t know if I will turn up for your show, but I want to meet again. I don’t want to cut and run because of what you told me today. You’re a nice guy.”

“You’re saying that because I bought you lunch.”, Eren accused her with a smile, getting some bravado back.

She winked at him.

“Perhaps.”

Still smiling, Eren pocketed his phone, feeling like he got more out of this meeting than he even dared to hope for.

“Well, I’ll see you around then, Mikasa.”

“Take care Eren.”

She watched him leave the restaurant, her own lips curved upwards. When he disappeared from view, she ran her hands through her hair, a half-amused/half-nervous giggle falling from her lips. She had never asked this many questions in her life, not even in her classes. And the answers she got were…. something else.

This guy? This guy was getting more interesting by the second.

[theroyalmile]

No Returns, No Exchanges

Disclaimer: I have debated for quite a while whether or not I should post this blog.  Social media is such a curated space for joy and happiness, it can feel oppressive at times.  There is so much life-changing positivity, from engagements to new jobs; and don’t get me wrong, that happiness is great to see.  But on the other hand, all of that positivity makes me feel like sharing any kind of negative information is attention-seeking and an immense overshare.  So let’s ask ourselves why I feel that way.  Why is happiness celebrated while the sad, sometimes harsh realities of life are thought to be oversharing?  More specifically, why do we feel like life-changing news can only be shared when it doesn’t make other people uncomfortable?  Our expressions of pain should not be regulated by the comfort levels of the people who surround us.  There comes a time when not sharing something begins to feel like hiding something, and hiding something turns to shame.  That is a feeling that I refuse to welcome into my life right now.  So here we go. 

It has been a while since I posted anything… a really long while.  It has been rare, these past few years, that I have even felt I had anything much to say let alone write anything, mostly because my life has been fairly normal, fairly unextraordinary, and I am rather blessed to be saying that during such a difficult time for so many. The few moments where I have felt like I had something to say have been fleeting, and after a good 2am word vomit on paper, I have filed these musings under “not to be seen by the light of day” which is probably for the best.

 Sometimes in the past I would find myself wishing I had something interesting going on in my life, something worthy of commentary… I don’t know, I was thinking like a cool hobby, an interesting skill, a kick-ass career, or a run in with Tom Hardy like I’d always dreamed of… something.  

 Well, to whoever is in charge, this is not what I meant, and I would like to request a refund. 

 Because as its final parting kick in the ass 2020 decided to gift me with breast cancer.  This isn’t a bad punch line, it’s just the truth.Let me give you a second to process that one.  I certainly needed a few.

 The thing is, a little itty bitty 3-centimeter tumor- that’s not something I can give back, as much as I might want to.  It’s not a too-large sweater you can return with a gift receipt, and it’s not a bad haircut you can complain about and get your money back (though it certainly will include one in a week or so!)

 A lot of you already know this story and frankly it’s not one I can tell with much finesse or humor, so I will keep it brief.  It was a dark and stormy 6pm when I found a lump in my breast in the shower back in November.  My initial thought was “you’re a crazy lady and a hypochondriac, let’s give it a few weeks since this is probably nothing.”   A few weeks, when my imaginary lump seemed to not actually be imaginary, I figured okay, it’s time to see my doctor, it’s probably nothing but we need to make sure.  I was in fact so unconcerned about it that I didn’t even see my regular doctor. I figured I just needed a medical professional to feel me up and let me know what to do next.  I didn’t even bother mentioning it to my parents. (For context of my laissez-faire, when I was 14 I found a lump in my breast that turned out, after little fanfare, to be a cyst which was unceremoniously drained on a cold metal table by a male doctor in a somewhat traumatizing but ultimately benign event.  That’s a longer story for later). 

 Cue a physical exam, confirming I was not crazy and there was a lump, but it was probably nothing; an utltrasound, confirming the lump was a shape that they did not like, but it was probably nothing; and an ultrasound guided biopsy, in which the probably nothing was sampled.  The week between Christmas and New Year’s was spent impatiently waiting for the news, increasingly feeling that my probably nothing was maybe, actually something.

 On December 28 around lunch time I received a phone call in the middle of the work day from the radiologist, who while very nice, was someone I had only met once while she shot a needle in and out of my boob.  She asked me how I was doing and then told me my test results were in.  “I’m sorry to say it’s not good news,” she said.

 And believe it or fucking not my immediate thought was “It’s not good news… it’s great news!” My brain supplied this as if on autopilot like some kind of 90s game show host, knowing fully well that I would not be so lucky because we are not living in a Brooklyn 99 episode.  It’s weird where your brain goes under duress.

 It was one of the most uncomfortable phone calls I have ever had, wherein I found myself trying to reassure a complete stranger that I was okay and I’m pretty sure I even said, “it is what it is.”  I was told a breast surgeon and oncologist from my provider network would be in contact and the call ended. Ultimately, I was diagnosed with Stage 1B Triple Negative Invasive Ductal and Lobular Carcinoma.  No returns, no exchanges.

 I am two months into my diagnosis, and 1/8 of my way through chemotherapy, the first part of a three series treatment (to be followed by surgery and then likely radiation.)  This Friday, after my second chemotherapy treatment, I will begin to lose my hair.  Anyone who knows me at all knows that the hair loss will be a pill likely far harder for me to swallow than the chemo itself.  And while the look may have worked for Demi Moore in GI Jane, I do not have her bone structure, nor her body.  I anticipate I will look more like the yellow peanut M&M, which while obviously the best M&M of the bunch, I think we can all agree is not a cute look for me.

 I do not say this to be melodramatic, I just say this because I am cynical and pragmatic by nature: I am not particularly surprised that I have cancer.  And this is for several reasons, some of which probably deserve a longer blog later.  To put it simply, I have been surrounded by cancer, both by choice and by cruel fate and happenstance, my entire life. 

 Cruel Fate and Happenstance: Having several relatives who have gone through cancer, and a mother with a BRCA 1 genetic mutation (which I had a 50% chance of inheriting, and in fact did) I always figured it would eventually happen to me.  The odds this condition dealt me? “About 13% of women in the general population will develop breast cancer sometime during their lives. By contrast, 55%–72% of women who inherit a harmful BRCA1 variant… will develop breast cancer by 70–80 years of age.”  That 55-72% is the kind of percentage you want winning the lottery, but the lottery this most certainly is not, and that much I understood. So, I always figured something like this would probably happen.  Did I think I would be 28? No. But I figure that just makes me an overachiever. 

 Choice: I volunteered at a cancer support non-profit from the time I was 12 to the time I was 22, and I wrote my college senior thesis in anthropology on women with ovarian cancer, the cancer that killed my aunt Lizzy when I was 4 years old.  I have likely read more books on cancer than your average newly diagnosed person, which I find to be both a blessing and a curse.  On one hand, I know some of what’s coming.  On the other hand, I know some of what’s coming.  Of course I don’t think any of these things gave me cancer but you might say I have been training for this my whole life.  I think this joke is far funnier than pretty much everyone I say it to except my immediate family, because the Tenney/Koss folk are very big on gallows humor, in which case this is hilarious.  Comedy is our family coping mechanism, and I am guilty of occasionally forgetting not everyone is wired like that.   

 So where are we right now? Taking it day by day.  Do I frequently find myself wallowing in self-pity these days? Sure.  But all the same I feel truly lucky.  This is a feeling I am trying to hold on to, because I think the other options might be truly unbearable.  Why? Well, I found this tumor.  I’m 28-years-old, which means I am hardly old enough for a regular mammogram and MRI.  My last yearly physical was a TeleHealth appointment (hence no actual physical) and I will be honest, I never made a habit of regularly checking myself like I should have.  But this tumor just presented itself casually during a shower.  Breast cancer, when caught early, is highly treatable and curable, and I am fairly confident, knock on wood, that is where this particular nightmare is headed.  The fact that it was caught early: pure luck. 

Another reason I feel lucky is for the most part, I feel like I actually have the stability to handle the oncoming struggle.  I have a large and wonderful support system, an incredible and supportive partner, a savings account with actual savings in it, and a job where I am cared about as a human.  If this had happened to me three years ago, almost none of these things would be true.  There will never be a good time to have cancer, but some times are apparently better than others.  Of course, the ongoing pandemic means I can’t have people go with me to chemo, or my wig fitting, or my surgery consultations, and alone a lot of this seems much more daunting and difficult than it might otherwise have been, but I am trying to make a habit of counting my blessings, and despite this terrible thing I’ve been given, my blessings are many.

 There isn’t a “right way” to have cancer, but I think there might be a “right way” for me.  I am a private person and I find sharing some of these details difficult and more than a little uncomfortable, but I am also intimately familiar with the healing nature of writing and comedy, so I am going to give it a shot.  

 And now that I think of it… the peanut M&M is going to make a really great Halloween costume. 

[ibijau]

mdzs worst engagement au!xisang! Would lxc save nhs from jalouse lxc admire ?

Worst Engagement

Warning for bullying and threats of physical violent

Stay toward the middle or end of Nie Huaisang’s first year in the Cloud Recesses, when he’s still trying to be a Good Boy TM

Another class finishes, and Nie Huaisang has no idea what it even was about. Talisman, he guesses, but it might very well be manners. Quite possibly, it's the etiquette for using talismans. He's been trying to concentrate harder on lessons lately, terrified of failing and getting scolded again by just about everyone he knows, but it's just impossible to focus on something so boring. His mind keeps wandering to painting, to birds, to that minuscule crack in the ceiling of the classroom. 

He's not even sure what will happen if he fails the exam. He just knows that it'll be awful. 

That's the only reason why when a group of boys encircles him as he exits the classroom and asks if he wants to study with them, Nie Huaisang actually considers it.

The group, sadly, is led by Jin Zixun. There's little love between him and Nie Huaisang, though in fairness there's little love between either of them and anyone else. Only the Jin disciples seem to like Jin Zixun, and they don't have much of a choice when his mother is the sect leader's sister. Jin Zixun is a bully and, quite frankly, an idiot, but he's still doing better in class than Nie Huaisang. That makes studying with him and his friends… tempting. 

"What do you want in exchange for letting me work with you?" Nie Huaisang asks with justified suspicions. Just a few days ago, someone threw a wet inkstone at him, ruining of set of white guest robes, and Jin Zixun looked too amused to be fully innocent. 

"It's just sad to always see you alone," Jin Zixun replies. "The heir apparent to Qinghe Nie should try to make friends." 

That's rich coming from the one person who made sure to ruin all of Nie Huaisang’s efforts. But it's true also that Nie Huaisang can be shy. Some of the other boys did try chatting with him, early on, but they only wanted to hear about Nie Mingjue at best, about Lan Xichen at worst, and that quickly got old. 

"Come with us, Nie gongzi," another Jin boy insists, his smile less sharp than Jin Zixun. "You seemed a little lost earlier when master Lan explained things, but together we can all figure it out." 

Nie Huaisang shoots the boy a surprised look. Nobody usually pays attention to him, so this is pleasantly unexpected. Much as it pains him to admit, Jin Zixun isn't wrong: it'd be nice to make some friends. 

"I am very grateful for your generous offer," Nie Huaisang says with a bow. "I hope we can all work hard together." 

Happy with that answer, the other boys lead him away from the classroom, chatting about dinner and what they'll do for their next free day. Nie Huaisang doesn't say much, happy to listen and let himself be led along the way.

It's not until they pass the last cabin and step on a path to the mountain that Nie Huaisang realises something isn't right. Before he can ask about that, Jin Zixun gives a signal. Instantly, two boys grab Nie Huaisang’s arms and push his back against a tree, hard enough his breath is knocked out of him. 

"I thought we were going to study," he stutters, immediately earning a few laughs. 

"Who'd study with you?" someone says. "Has there been a single class you haven't failed?" 

"Yeah, you're annoying," Jin Zixun adds. "You're a shame to the entire cultivation world already, but you had to make it worse by laying a claim on Lan Xichen?" 

Nie Huaisang blinks a few times. 

"It's not like I chose that!" 

"I could have been the one engaged to Lan Xichen," Jin Zixun argues. "It was considered for a time! I would have been far more worthy of him than some stupid little cowardly mouse like you.”

“Go to your uncle and ask to have him then,” Nie Huaisang mutters. “Good luck. I don’t think Lan gongzi will want you.”

The slap is no surprise, but Nie Huaisang still cries out when the blow is sharper than expected.

“He doesn’t want you either,” Jin Zixun spits. “Everyone knows he’s ashamed of being engaged to you. Qinghe Nie is barely respectable to begin with, and then they had to give birth to someone like you? Everyone knows you don’t even have a golden core!”

“I do have one!”

It’s only half a lie. His core has almost finished forming. For better or worse, the discipline of Gusu Lan has actually helped quite a bit, which annoys Nie Huaisang to no end. He doesn’t want to owe that to the sect that will someday already own him.

“I don’t think that’s true,” another Jin boy says, the one who was so nice earlier and said he’d noticed Nie Huaisang struggling to follow the lesson. “Nobody with a core would squeal like a pig over just being slapped.”

“He did sound like a pig,” Jin Zixun agrees. “Maybe we should open him up like one and check? Maybe those Nie butchers messed up and raised a pig instead of a cultivator. Or maybe his mom’s a sow instead of a dancer. I mean, it’s the same in the end, isn’t it?”

Nie Huaisang shouts in rage at the insult, and manages to free himself from the other boys’ hold just enough to kick first Jin Zixun’s knee, and then his chest when he doubles down in pain.

"Talk about my mom again and you'll see what a butcher can do!"! Nie Huaisang roars, trying to launch himself at Jin Zixun only to be tackled on the ground by the other boys. "Fight me alone if you dare!" 

A boot on his face silences him (still that nice boy, Nie Huaisang is never trusting anyone’s kindness ever again), pressing his cheek into mud and grass. Nie Huaisang still manages to look up when Jin Zixun stomps in front of his nose. He has one hand on the handle of his sword, and yet all Nie Huaisang can think of is how unflattering that angle is on the other boy. It’s a stupid thought to have, and it’s stupider still that it makes him snort, because of course Jin Zixun only gets angrier.

“Maybe I can’t cut open you like a pig,” he says, “but I can cut your face. If you really have a golden core, healing it won’t be a problem. If you don’t… it’ll just leave a scar and everyone will know you’re a fraud.”

Nie Huaisang cries out and struggles as hard as he can, but without the power of surprise he can’t free himself again. To his horror, Jin Zixun actually unsheathes his sword. When he puts it against his cheek, Nie Huaisang goes deathly still and closes his eyes, feeling tears of terror and frustration pool behind his eyelids. The blade is cold against his skin, the tip of it digging slightly, not yet hard enough to actually cut, but Jin Zixun starts to press down and…

“What’s going on here?”

Everyone jolts, but thankfully Jin Zixun is just smart enough to lift his sword and not leave any mark on Nie Huaisang.

Nie Huaisang who opens his eyes and sees Lan Xichen coming their way, radiating the sort of calm anger one might expect of a martial god. For the first time in their engagement, Nie Huaisang is sincerely happy to see his fiancé, so much so that the tears he barely managed to restrain before start spilling.

“Lan gongzi!” Jin Zixuan exclaims, putting away his sword. “How are you doing today? Isn’t the weather nice?”

Lan Xichen gives him such a cold look that Jin Zixun cannot help stepping backward. He then turns his gaze to Nie Huaisang, and frowns.

“Let him go,” he orders the boys still holding him, and is obeyed without hesitation. “Fighting is not allowed in the Cloud Recesses. Surely you know this by now?”

"Lan gongzi, we were just playing!" 

"Where you?" Lan Xichen asks, his eyes still on Nie Huaisang who looks away. 

"Yeah, we were playing," he mutters, carefully getting back on his feet and wiping the dirt from his face. "Sorry if we were too rough, Lan gongzi. It won't happen again." 

It's a huge lie, and one Nie Huaisang isn't selling well with his red eyes and snotty nose. Lan Xichen rightfully pinches his lips, but can't say anything without calling both Jin Zixun and Nie Huaisang liars, which would be a serious accusation. Nie Huaisang knows he's making yet another bad impression on his future husband, but between that and alienating someone who's currently so high in the inheritance line for Lanling Jin… Lan Xichen's anger can be dealt with, but Jin Zixun's hatred would probably never be pacified. 

"I see. Then please, play more peacefully next time, and in a more appropriate place," Lan Xichen notes with a smile that doesn't reach his eyes. "If you seek such an isolated place, people might think you are trying to hide mischief. Now go back to your cabins. I'm sure you have a lot to review after today's lesson."

They don't need to be told twice. Some of the boys are probably older than Lan Xichen, but he radiates such authority that nobody would dare to contradict him, especially not when they all know they're lucky not to be punished. Even Nie Huaisang could have gotten in trouble. He's not sure if the rules against fighting apply to self-defence as well. 

"Nie gongzi, stay with me a moment," Lan Xichen orders. "I wish to speak to you."

Nie Huaisang freezes on the spot. In all the time he's spent in the Cloud Recesses, this is the first time Lan Xichen had asked for a chat. In fact, isn't it the first time for the all of their acquaintance? And by the look of it, it's not going to be a pleasant one.

But then again, when has anything about this engagement ever been pleasant? 

"Do not pick fights you cannot win," Lan Xichen advises when everyone else is gone. 

"I didn't start this," Nie Huaisang grumbles, feeling like a child being scolded. "They're the ones who attacked me!" 

"Then be more careful not to give others the occasion and incentive to attack you," Lan Xichen said, never once dropping that kind, condescending smile. "Just because we are set to marry doesn't mean I will always be there to save you. If you can't defend yourself, if you can't make friends, at least have the good sense to stay away from bullies." 

That hits a little too close to home. Of course Nie Huaisang should have known something was wrong, he should have guessed Jin Zixun couldn't have turned nice all of a sudden, but… 

He just wanted someone to want to be around him. The other Nie disciples don't count, they have to be nice to him. But apparently, friends are too much to ask. 

"I'm sorry, Lan gongzi. May I go now?" 

"You may."

Nie Huaisang strides away, as fast as he can without running. When he reaches the cabin he shares with the other Nie disciples, he doesn't even get changed and just starts studying right away. 

He has to pass his exams when the time comes, at any cost, so he can go home and be away from this fiancé who hates him.

[rantylawblr]

Hi, been following u for some time

I am a CLAT 21 aspirant. Quick background, been attending a coaching from past 2 years so I would say my basics are as clear as they can be. My parents, teachers, friends everyone around me has such great expectations form me but I am scareddd, (could be performance anxiety maybe?)

I literally feel so anxious, as yk CLAT is on 23rd july and i am freaking out badd,

As my senior I would appreciate if you could send me some tips for these last few days, anything some words of affirmation I have no one to talk to about my fear and I am literally in tears

help

Heyy, so one thing I need you to remember is that you need to do this for yourself and not to meet the expectations of others. It's your future, not theirs, so whatever you're doing, do it for yourself.

Clat is an exam that's very unpredictable, and I'd honestly say of your basics are clear and if you're getting a decent score in mocks, there's nothing more left to do except to keep polishing what you've done. You've got this, and this anxiety is very relatable because even my parents had great expectations from me.

In my year, there were 4 questions wrong in the paper, and on top of that the system didnt recognise amy answer changes, something I unfortunately found out after the results came out. These things weren't in my control, and now if I look back I wish I'd gone easier on myself. And right now that's what I'd tell you too. No matter how good you are, there are things that may be out of your control, and that's okay because shit works out. I am now in a college where they cater to my strengths far better than an nlu would have.

The people who have expectations from you aren't seeing how hard you work, and will simply look at the result at the end. Don't worry about them, and ik it's easier said than done but you need to if you want to stay sane.

Remember that every person giving the paper rn is in the same position as you, you've got this. If you need someone to talk to, dm me, I might be able to help. You need to be mentally healthy and this time, and remember that a few months later you won't be feeling this anxious. You've got this

Best of luck for clat, and please please take care of your mental health, it's as important as prepping your material as when you get to the centre, both factors come into play

[crowgale]

Resident Evil 2 AU

Claire Redfield x Elza Walker

Generally the characters are the same, but with a kick of real so they aren't blank slates. Elza herself is a street-smart, confident young woman with a troubled past.

Born Elizibeth Walker in Anchorage, Alaska to parents separated before she was born, her father was an fortuitous yet endearing construction worker who took custody of her until he went missing during the construction of an Umbrella Research Facility in the Rockies during her early teens and was then sent to Connecticut to live with her mother, who was an abusive drug addict.

In her teens she developed a keen interest in motorcycles while overstudying in a library to avoid her mother and further strengthed it with part-time jobs in various mechanics. Eventually she lost hope in her father being found and her increasingly hostile mother drove her to runaway from home, using connections she developed through gangs and mechanics to move to Florida and join an amatuer racing contest in Daytona under the alias 'Elza' (Her father's nickname for her)... where she broke the track record 4 times (The first was the previous fastest lap time, she then broke her own fastest laps 3 times).

By her 18th birthday she had left her criminal ties behind and became a minor celebrity on the fast track to becoming a professional bike racer. She had sponsers ready to pay her into any university she wanted, emancipation from her mother and enough money saved up from work and victories to let her live as an independant young woman.

Elizabeth was gone. She was Elza now, and she had found her path to happiness.

~

By 1996 Claire had enrolled in the University of Houstan, Texas. Chris hoped she would enrol in Kansas City so she'd be closer to him but she wasn't going to be his little sister forever. She had grown up quick after their parents died... they both did.

Elza and Claire first met the week before classes started, Claire having just moved into the dorms a day before; Elza arriving like a perfect storm the next day on an customised kawasaki sports bike and a trailer full of her belongings.

Claire recognised her of course, her debut into the racing world made national headlines. So like a dork Claire was shy and tried to avoid Elza as she rode in on her Harley Davidson, after running an errand off campus.

Elza however, heard the sound of a Harley and wanted to know who owned it. She took one look at Claire in her red leather shorts, that 'Made in Heaven' jacket tied around her waist and that tight black bodysuit she had no business looking so sexy in, decided 'Yeah, I'm chilling with you!" and was having none of it.

There was, what a native of Northern Ireland like myself would call, a fresher's fair that night and like a hawk Elza seeked out the introverted Claire and started asking about her bike.

By the end of the night, Claire's shyness vanished upon realising that the seemingly untouchable queen of bikers, whose body was covered in tattoos and whose hair was as wild and untamed as the wind, was actually a massive dork. Elza however found someone who had quickly seen her and not the racing queen. The dealbreaker came when Elza asked what made her get a bike to begin with.

"Well... my brother owned a Suzuki before but... I guess I saw the film 'Akira' and that's what made me do it"

"Oh my god bitch me too!!!"

The two would then become firm friends. Elza being the misadventurous one who managed to talk Claire into actually leaving the library and give herself a break from studying; Claire being the one to get them out of trouble and keep Elza grounded. The two became a power-couple without realising, defending the other from rude people who mocked Elza for daring to be a woman racer or harassed Claire for her looks or for trying to latch onto a celebrity. It went without saying no one could harass these women if they wanted their hearing and face intact.

Things would eventually become more personal between the two. The week after New Years, Elza received news that her mother had died from a drug overdose. Although she didn't need to, Claire bought a side-car for her bike and rode her to New London for the funeral.

The service itself was tense. Elza being uncharacteristically silent and the lack of relatives worried Claire as the service ended. She never saw Elza's eyes look so cold as she gave her eulogy, which she soon realised was a stock eulogy the minister gave to those who didn't write one.

A while after she was buried in the a man approached Elza in the cemetary, introduced himself as her mother's dealer and decided that since she was a famous racer her mother's debt would pass on to Elza and that she would pay him else there would be cpnsequences; it goes without saying she refused to pay off the debt and apathetically asked him to leave.

Claire was on him like a wolf the moment he slapped her and was ready to kill him when he started to threaten her with a knife.

She very nearly did.

They left New London that evening amidst a police BOLO for a woman with auburn hair seen kicking the living shit out of a man in a graveyard. They made it to Kent Island before a blizzard rolled in and they had to say at an inn along the Chesepeake Bay.

That night Claire meant to apologise for her actions, stating she saw her get hit and just... reacted. But Elza pulled her into a tight hug and finally released her pent up emotions. She told Claire about her fathers disappearance, about the years of torment at her mothers hands, that this wasn't the first time something like this happened, that she doesn't understand why she's crying if she hated her mother so much and how much it hurt to remember all those terrrible things and have someone make her feel like that scared little girl again.

Claire, feeling her best friend shake in her arms, doesn't know what to say. She's silent for a time as Elza holds onto her like a lifeline, as if letting go would make her fall off the Earth itself. She finally tells Elza that she isn't that little girl anymore.

"You are Elza Walker! Yhe Woman who can never be slowed! You're unreachable! Unstoppable! And no one will ever hurt you again!... I... don't want to see you hurt again"

Elza didn't speak for a while after that... but eventually she did and what she said broke Claire.

"I've wished for someone like you my whole life Claire"

~

Life returned to normal soon after that. One tournament race was enough to bring Elza Walker roaring back to life and with a vengeance. She was faster, she was braver, her smile after each weekly victory able to light up the world... or at least Claire's, who now made it a point to go to every race, or at least watch it on TV if the race was in a city too far out of reach.

Elza knew Claire was watching her... she figured that's why she was doing better now.

~

Spring came and went, the summer exams now already a fading memory to the pair, but foreshadowed by Claire losing her part-time job and being unable to find another one. With no means to pay for her student fees it looked like she would be forced to drop-out.

But Elza wouldn't have any of it.

"I know how you can pay off your fees. A guy in my pit crew retired a month ago and I've been short two hands ever since. It's hard work but the pays good and if I make pro next month it'll be even better"; she said idly at a bar one evening.

"You... you want me in your pit crew?"; Claire asked incredulously.

"No, I want you as my personal pitbabe so I can drool at you in a tight spandex jumpsuit looking all cute with dirt on your face"; Elza said with a lop-sided smile.

"Ha!"

"Hm... seriously Claire, I want you there with me. I can't imagine anyone better to look after me on the track"; Elza said confidently.

"...You do take way too many risks"; Claire mused, before Elza held her cheek in her hands.

"You told me once that I am the woman who can never be slowed... well Redfield, I'd slow down for you!"

~

Elza's manager might have called her decision to hire Claire personally driven and entirely unprofessional. However, Claire proved herself highly compotent within a week of employment, being able to keep up with the repairs, adjustments and tyre changes her job demanded.

It was also found that Elza actually listened to Claire whenever she was pushing her luck, which turned out to be a blessing in the final race of the season in San Francesco. Her main rival who was tied for 1st with Elza didn't want to lose to a woman, and in the final 3 laps had begun making poor judgement calls to try and keep up with her. Risky overtakes, tight cornering and high speed was equally met, and soon Elza found herself in a dogfight she refused to lose.

If Claire hadn't screamed at her to brake before the last corner, she would have been thrown off her bike with her rival after an attemped inside lane overtake resulted in them losing control of the bike and wiping out.

Elza won of course, making it into the professional league. It was a dream come true. At no point after she took off her helmet and locked teary eyes with Claire could she make any expression that wasn't a bashful smile or tears of joy. It also seemed like she couldn't stop looking at Claire during the victory reception or later that night on the train ride home... where she had too much to drink, leaving Claire having to help Elza meander into the sleeping car after the 8th Buttery Nipple.

She helped her move herself onto the bed, but Elza didn't let go of her hand. Instead she brought her hand to her lips and kissed her knuckles and held it to her cheek as she openly wept.