#i never know how to answer asks like these without sounding like an absolute goober hehehe ♥

[puppyluver256]

I keep wanting to shoot you an ask and then TOTALLY FORGETTING TO but I just wanted to say it's super surreal and also great that I'm seeing you around on tumblr in 2023 because I remember being like...a kid on deviantart tooling around looking for super paper mario fanart and i was like WOW! THIS PERSON HAS A LOT OF SPM FANART AND THEY DO PENCIL STUFF LIKE I DO!! COOL!!!! and then spent a while going through your gallery lol SO UH, THANK YOU? I remember having a lot of fun looking at your art and it makes me happy to see you're still drawing and enjoying yourself!

Awaaaaa thank you so much for all the kind words!! ;w; I remember following you a long while ago for SPM stuff actually, hehe. Glad I'm not the kind of person to unfollow just cuz someone doesn't post as much of (insert thing I followed them for) as it's been fun seeing your more recent stuff, both the cool original stuff you've come up with and the other fandom stuff from things I prolly woulda never looked into on my own. Hope you're still enjoying yourself too :D

[inspired-by-the-music]

Chapter 18: Letting Go

Ae-Young’s POV

After waking the next morning in the pillow fort we made the night before, Key decided that dressing me up for a day out was the way to cure a broken heart. I didn’t find that I preferred to be left alone to my thoughts, so I agreed without the slightest objection. 

“Oh, this is new,” he said when he pulled the blue sundress out of my closet. He examined it closely and gushed, “It’s pretty—”

He must have watched my face fall. Gathering its connection to Kyuhyun— or You-Know-Who, as Key had taken to calling him after watching Harry Potter— he amended, “Pretty— pretty ugly. Seriously, whoever bought this has terrible taste.” To prove it, he dropped it into the floor. 

Although I was grateful for his attempt to mind my feelings, I narrowed my eyes at his actions. Rising from my bed to pick the dress up from the floor, I said, “I chose it, you goober. And it’s beautiful, so I’ll wear it.”

“Fine, fine.” Key turned away from me and focused instead on finding a pair of shoes. “Has anyone ever told you that you’re, like, impossible to read?”

As I stepped into the bathroom to shimmy into the dress, I countered with a small smile, “Maybe you’re just illiterate.”

His laughter made my heart a little lighter. “Fiery! That’s my Ae-Young. Keep this up— I don’t want to waste my time doing your makeup if you’re gonna cry it all off.”

“Fine, fine.”

. . . 

Kyuhyun wasn’t supposed to be at that restaurant down the street from the firm on a Saturday, but I didn’t want to risk bumping into him before I got my emotions under control. But will I ever stop feeling this way? It didn’t seem likely or even possible. Then, does this mean I can never stand to see him again?

Key insisted, “I want to try that coffee you’re so obsessed with,” and he couldn’t be persuaded otherwise. Not even the torrential downpour outside would convince him to get brunch somewhere closer to home, so I found myself in one of the last places I wanted to be. 

Being in the place where it all began was too much to handle considering how everything had changed. I was no longer who I was when I walked in there months ago to discuss an uncomfortable arrangement— and being there made the difference between past and present too painfully clear to tolerate. 

I was turning to leave as Key requested a table for two when my eyes were drawn to him. He was sitting at our table in the corner, the one we sat at every time we visited the restaurant since the beginning. He was reading a book and stirring his coffee, continuing with his routines as if his world was completely undisturbed by my absence while mine— mine—

Key tried to contain my temper, calling, “Ae-Young wait, the hostess has to take us to a table,” and reaching for my hand. Once I tugged out of his grip, once he realized who I was walking toward, he hissed, “Oh shit,” and dashed out of the restaurant, I assumed, to give me privacy. 

It didn’t matter that the restaurant was filled almost completely with old couples. I had no objection to causing a scene in front of a bunch of strangers— it was embarrassing myself around people I knew that would make me a blushing, stuttering mess. 

As I approached Kyuhyun, I planned to comment on the weather, but when he looked up at me with eyes wide and surprised as if I was the last person he ever expected to see, the still-fresh wound re-opened.

Before I could stop the bleeding, I blurted— wanting him to feel for himself the injury he caused— “What the hell, Kyuhyun?”

This was a nice restaurant, remember— the kind of place where every woman wears pearl earrings to match her pearl necklace, the kind of place where every man wears a tie, the kind of place where I, the only person under the age of 30, looked out of place. At my language and tone, the patrons silenced and turned toward me. Their curious disapproving stares burned into me, but Kyuhyun didn’t seem to notice. 

His eyes were fixed unblinkingly on me. “I— what?”

Furious at how he could just gawk at me, I defaulted to a habit I developed during our time together and twisted at my engagement ring. I can’t wear this anymore. Rather than crying at the realization as I would have last night, I yanked it from my hand and demanded, “Did you ever plan to get your ring back?”

Before he could answer, I threw it onto the table. He watched, not breathing, as it rolled onto the floor. He picked it up and put it on the side of the table closest to me. “No.”

I wheezed, “So you never planned to see me again?”

“No—” He stuttered and closed his book without marking his place. “Wait, yes— no— I don’t know.”

My face burned. How can he respond to me with broken one-word answers after he detailed my faults to Dad at length? How can somebody who has taught me so much through careful explanations be speechless at the time I’m most confused? How can he struggle this much to explain himself? 

Glaring, I suggested, “Since you’re not feeling too articulate today, let me explain things as I understand them. You can feel free to pipe up with a ‘yes’ or ‘no’ whenever you feel like it.” I took his blinking as an okay and started, “You agreed to marry me while I was away at college because you respect my father.”

Instantly, he agreed, “Yes.”

“Then, you agreed to ��court me’ to humor me.”

He thought for a few seconds before shaking his head. “No, I agreed to court you because I wanted to have a better relationship with you. I wanted you to be—” he fumbled for a word— “comfortable with me.”

“Whatever,” I said, unconvinced. I didn’t pause to consider how to phrase the next portion, which is probably why it came out so tactlessly. “You kept all this— this shit I sent you years ago in your desk at work for God knows how long like it means something to you—”

His head tilted as he likely wondered how I knew about the drawer. He recovered just long enough to counter, “It does mean something to me!”

Kyuhyun never yelled before, so it should have been enough to silence me, but I had gone deaf. “ — And you spent every day with me, made me fall deeper in love with you than ever— and that’s really saying something because I have loved you with my entire being for my whole life—”

He didn’t react except to drop his jaw, but I would have continued even if he dared to speak. 

“ — You made it impossible for me to enjoy another day without you, and then you broke up with me through my Dad?” 

The only vocal response came from the other patrons who murmured amongst each other. Feeling somewhat vindicated that they shared in my surprise, I laughed at nothing funny. “I mean— who does that? I guess it makes a little bit of sense, though. You started it through him, so it makes sense to end it through him with absolutely no regard about how I would feel.”

“I—” Unsurprisingly considering his behavior that day, he faltered, dumbfounded. “Can you repeat what you said?” Realizing that I couldn’t or wouldn’t, he asked, “Did you say that you were in love with me?”

Too angry to be ashamed, I answered, “It’s not so much a past tense thing. I don’t think I know how to not be in love with you.” His shocked expression was on my last nerve, so I snapped, “You don’t have to pretend to be surprised! I know it’s been obvious my whole life. And I understand that you still think of me like I’m a kid, so I don’t expect you to love me like I love you. I know you can’t. But you could have told me yourself. You shouldn’t have asked Dad to break my heart for you.”

“That wasn’t—” He held his reddening face in his hands briefly before trying to explain, “On the first day, you sad that this whole thing was such a shock, and you said that you wanted to focus on your career, and — I know that was a long time ago, but when you got that job offer, all I could think was that I was holding you back. You would resent me for it sooner or later—”

I wouldn’t resent you for something like that. I would give it all up for you. But I will resent you from running from me, I will resent you for breaking my heart without so much of a good-bye, I will resent you for never telling me how to feel okay when I’m not with you. 

“ — and even if you never resented me for it, I would resent myself.”

As if it would return things to how they had been before, as if I didn’t know that this specific job was not to blame for how things had ended, as if it would cure the still glaring fact that he wasn’t in love with me, I said, “I turned the job down.”

Almost angry, he asked, “Why?”

“I didn’t want to go so far away from you,” I answered, and he frowned. “Don’t look at me like that. There were other reasons, too. I didn’t want to leave my father and Heechul again. And the job wouldn’t pay enough to cover travel expenses. And then Key offered me a job, so it was the right decision.”

He wasn’t convinced by my reasoning. “I never want you to turn down exciting experiences for me, and that’s all our relationship would be for you: a cage.”

“I don’t think—”

Like everybody else always did, he interrupted me. Why did nobody care what I had to say? Why did their opinions matter more? Why didn’t I speak up more often in spite of this? Why didn’t I refuse to be silenced for another minute? 

“You’re so young,” Kyuhyun said, sounding very much like he had at the beginning, “you can’t even imagine what you would be giving up to be with me. You don’t know how many pieces of you are out there waiting to be discovered. And I— I can’t be the one who keeps you from finding yourself.”

Before I could carefully consider what he said as I always had, I asserted, hands drawing into fists, “I know who I am! I know I’m immature in all the ways you told my Dad—”

“I didn’t mean those things—”

I didn’t listen to what he said. Instead, I finally shouted, “Don’t interrupt me! It matters what I think too, whether you want to listen or not, so I’m going to say it!” As if seeing me clearly for the first time, he snapped out of his daze. “The things you told my dad were true. It doesn’t matter how old I get— I won’t be the wife you deserve, so maybe— maybe this is best. I’d rather you be with somebody you truly love. I mean, obviously, I wish that someone was me, but—”

The entire room gasped when I stopped mid-sentence, especially following my outburst about saying my piece, but I couldn’t continue. 

What am I doing here, begging for something that never existed? If this makes him happy, who am I to object, even if it breaks me? I can learn to be okay. I can learn to let it go. I can make myself into somebody new. I liked who I was before— I loved who I was with him— and I can learn to love who I am now. 

One day, I won’t be hurt that it’s over; I’ll just be happy it happened, and I’ll be able to remember with a smile the things that hurt me now. 

I won’t beg like this for things that are not meant to be.

Making up my mind, I bowed. “I’m sorry for wasting your time, Kyuhyun.”

[tedtcnk-blog]

e.m.t. - intro

I’m abigail but I go by either abby or gail and i go by she her pronouns. I live in edt timezone and I’m a seventeen year old junior in high school. I’m a pretty busy student seeing as i take mainly ap classes and am involved with several extracurriculars so i may not be EXTREMELY active, but im going to try my best to get to know you all and interact with everyone!! <3

&&introducing your character

[ marlon langeland. seventeen. he/him. ] EDWARD TONKS  has stepped through the barrier to platform 9 ¾. the SEVENTH  year HUFFLEPUFF  student is most looking forward to FEELING AT HOME AGAIN.. their peers describe HIM as ELEEMOSYNARY & FACETIOUS, and has dubbed HIM as the SOILED DOVE. TED  feels FORLORN  about the war raging outside of hogwarts plans to JOIN THE ORDER when the year is up.

&&aesthetic loud and echoing laughs, summer rains, late nights sitting in the dewy grass, watching fireworks light up the stars, goofing around and wrestling for fun, catching fireflies in mason jars, hair frizzing in the humid air, faces lit by lampposts and the moonlight, poofy and patterned duvets, spending all day wrapped up in the sheets, the smell of freshly cleaned clothes, sad songs played on low, tattered jeans caked with mud, sneakers with the soles falling out

&&bio

Ted Tonks, born with the full given and strictly biblical name Edward Michael Tonks, was born to a family who had three very cut and clean rules. For most of his life, at least the first eleven of them, he followed these rules without a hiccup. The first one was fairly simple; never bad mouth mom and dad, seeing as they feed and provide for you after all. The second was that everyone ate together as a family every other night, and that meant the whole family, including great-grandma and grandpa. The last was the trickiest being that it seemed to be about 100 rules in one. It, however, was the one that was the most unforgivable if broken, that being that it demanded that everyone in the family was to follow, without question, every word the bible said.

Though Ted’s family was fairly huge when you factored in cousins and such, it was mostly easy for him to follow these rules. Being the only child, he absolutely adored his parents and they somewhat adored him back. As a child he was always on his father's heels, begging to go to work with him in the summers and waiting by the front door for him to get home on school nights. The second rule, as well, was easy because he never questioned spending moments with his family and enjoying the good food that was always passed around. It was the third, however that stopped Ted in his tracks.

The way his mother was, it seemed like everything he did broke some rule. She’d snip at him for running in from the garden and dragging mud into the house, claiming that he’d broken some holy rule when really all he’d done was get a bit of dirt on the floor which was mind you, fairly easy to get up. He bit his lip and dealt with it, however.

When he turned eleven however, and it came time to go back to school, everything in his family dynamic shifted. He remembers distinctly the day when he got home from a friends house to his mother who looked like she’d never been more angry in her life. Without a word he fled to his room, not daring to pester her about what was for dinner or when his father was going to be home. Dinner time passed, and as he heard the typically clanking of forks and spoons he also heard bitter voices, speaking in hisses and whispers. Not sure what he’d done, he sat at his door, feeling guilty at every sound he heard as he picked at the dirt that was still smushed into his hands.

Eventually his mother explained to him that he had done something wicked, though refusing to explain, she allowed him to come down and eat his food which had already grown cold. The whole time he ate, he felt his father’s eyes from the living room watching every move he made and the way his mother stationed herself at the kitchen sink made her look like a hawk circling its prey. He finished and was led straight back up to his room, where his mother shoved a letter into his hand and left him to his own devices to figure it out.

During the week that led up to the date that had been so bitterly circled on the paper, Ted had been kept under the hawk eye of both his parents. They hushed him at dinner when he attempted to get answers about what the school was like and his father look down right offended when he asked when they were going to go get his supplies. On the day of departure, Ted was more than ready to leave and finally get answers on to why everything was so hush hush. He known he’d seen something about wizardry around the logo of the school’s letter, but he thought it was merely a joke or some sort of metaphor. Surely he wasn’t being sent to do magic, his mother always told him that it was evil and not real anyways.

Sure enough, only after a few minutes aboard the Hogwarts express did he really understand why his parents had been so quick to mute him and hide him away. Feeling awful, his first few months at school were awful. The kids laughed at him for not having the right supplies and wearing homemade robes that his mother had very obviously made with no care in the world.  Even after he finally was provided with the right things and fully grasped what Hogwarts was, not many seemed to even bat an eye in his direction. He learned, however, to make the laughing into background music and grew accustomed to the fact that both of the two worlds he belonged to would never fully see him as a member of their society.

&&some place magical

Ted has always adored the magical and home-y feel that hogwarts has given off. Though both parts of his life have it’s downsides, he finds hogwarts more of a home to him than his official “home” He adores the way the whole castle is detailed unlike his old shed-like house he grew up in. He was raised well off enough, but seeing as his family had a shared farming business, his parents never found it sensible to upgrade from their first home they’d ever gotten together. The house was fine, just bland. The walls were bare, the house was small, and felt more temporary than anything. It just felt like a home until they got a new one, like a halfway unpacked house.

The detail of the castle, the nooks and hidden halls and ornate paintings, all of it, captured his fascination. He never gets tired of roaming the halls, finding new places to stop for a quick moment of silence or a spot to do homework when his roomates get to loud.

&&anything else

Ted himself can be a bit opposite of his parents fuddy-duddy ways, and while this is a good thing, his childish like humor and attitude can get him into a bit of trouble at times. Its been with him since he was young. His mother was always on him for trekking mud through the house or spending too much in the yard and not inside studying. Now that he’s a bit more mature he knows better, yet his childish ways still sometimes get ahead of his conscious mind at times.

&&ted vs. tech

Ted is actually really well versed with technology and it’s ins and outs. Probably seeing as he grew up in the muggle world, he was used to always being surrounded to these devices and working with them from a young age. That and the only real way he connects with his father anymore is through their love for technology. His father, though his professional occupation is a lot more boring and repetitive, really enjoys messing with technology and figuring out how everything works. While Ted isnt THAT interested in the mechanics of it, he pretends to like it anyways. He’s more interested in the social media side of things.

That being said, Ted is a snapchat GOD and don’t you dare break your streak with him. He’s that bitch that sends streaks every HOUR to make sure none of them are broken and will give his password away to someone if he gets in trouble and has his phone taken.

He’s that person to put his phone on airplane mode as well while he reads dms. Rather be safe than sorry bc that way he can avoid whoever he wants :))))))

His twitter is also nothing but retweets from the account @garyfromteenmom

Want to see Ted go buck wild bananas? Literally play 1 second of goofy goober rock and he will be up and dancing faster than you can turn it off

[mrandmrsvex]

Rating: General Audiences Relationships: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III/Vex'ahlia, Vax'ildan & Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Vaxleth (implied) Characters: Percival "Percy" Fredrickstein Von Musel Klossowski de Rolo III, Vex'ahlia (Critical Role), Vax'ildan (Critical Role), Keyleth (Critical Role) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Modern AU, Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher Series: Part 2 of thursday nights and friday mornings

Summary:

It was almost a completely normal 90 minutes of class. If her head wasn't constantly spinning around that argument before class. Her stupid question and his stupid answers and their stupid fight. Could you really call it a fight, though?

Notes:    

You do need to read the first part of this series to understand anything.

This is pretty much a transitionary chapter. I promise there's gonna be more, well, action? In later chapters. But it takes some work to get there. So far we've only seen friday mornings. Once we get to the first thursday nights, things will pick up

[Part 1]

It would be okay this time, she told herself standing in front of the classroom door. She'd be more awake, less hungover than last time, and he'd have no reason to constantly call on her and nag her for it. It would be a regular class, like it had been every friday morning before he showed up to teach it.

„Good morning.“ It was just a harmless greeting, but it made her jump nonetheless – Percy was standing far too close for comfort, talking almost directly into her ear. She brushed him with her shoulder while turning, ending basically face to face if he wasn't so damn tall. As it stood, she was pretty much just staring at his throat and collarbones before looking up.

„You're quite early.“ he continued before stepping past her to unlock the door, not even waiting for her to reply to his greeting.

She couldn't form a single word, couldn't stop staring, for some strange reason, at the part of his neck where white hair faded to almost as light skin.

„Well, in you go, if you please.“ He turned to her – damn it – and motioned into the classroom. „Class doesn't start for another 10 minutes, I'm afraid, but you might as well sit down already.“ With that, he was heading for his desk.

Vex stood in the doorway for a second, realising that going straight for the back row as she usually did would be the single most awkward thing to do right now.

After a moment of hesitation, she put her giant travel mug of coffee on a table in the second row and began unpacking her bag. She hoped he wouldn't notice. The way his eyebrows rose above his glasses while he was still looking halfway down on his papers told her he did.

Vex was desperate to break the awkward silence, but with what, she couldn't figure out. 8am was too fucking early, she thought, even without a hangover. Her mouth acted before her brain could stop it.

„I had a question, actually.“ Fuck. What? No. She did not have a question. She had no idea what to ask. She barely remembered the topic of the last class right now.

„Oh yes, of course.“ Percy sat up straight, obviously expecting her to talk about just that class, considering he'd offered to answer any questions last time they spoke.

„How did you know I was out drinking with old men last week?“ Oh balls, it was only getting worse. Vex, you idiot, you absolute fool, what in hell's name are you doing. She wasn't sure if the voice in her head was her own or her brother's. Sure, he'd probably still want to know, being the one who'd brought that question into her mind, but just maybe he might've been smart enough not to corner the guy he considered a possible threat in an otherwise empty room, at an almost empty school.

Percy's reaction at least assured her that he was most definitely not a threat, stuttering and blushing and awkwardly fidgeting with his papers.

„Oh god, you remembered.“ He whispered more to himself before clearing his throat. „Again, I'm very sorry for that comment. It was uncalled for.“

„That's not what I asked.“ She realised she had the upper hand in this conversation, for now, and was most definitely enjoying it. Percy blushing even more was definitely helping.

„It was a bad assumption. I remembered seeing you outside the Strongjaw pub with that weird musician.“ He paused. „You seemed quite drunk, to be fair.“

„And what exactly were you doing at a seedy pub on the other side of the town?“ She tried hard to keep her upper hand, but it was already slipping. The question had sounded far too biting.

„I'm pretty sure that's none of your business.“

„How drunk I get and with whom is none of your business, either.“

„Indeed, and I've apologised twice now. You decided to bring it up again.“

Silence. She downed her coffee more angrily than ever. Before she could give just as angry an answer, though, two students came in. The way Percy greeted them made it more than obvious how relieved he was to see them.

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

It was certainly not as bad this week as it had been last time. He'd only said 'Vex' during attendance. He never once called on her. She actually, voluntarily, raised her hand for two answers – and she even got them right. The topic was getting more and more interesting, the way Percy presented it, full of energy and obvious enthusiasm for his subject. It was almost a completely normal 90 minutes of class.

If her head wasn't constantly spinning around that argument before class. Her stupid question and his stupid answers and their stupid fight.

Could you really call it a fight, though? Vex remembered proper fighting, with shouting and door-slamming and cursing and saying things you could never really take back. She remembered Vax fighting with their father. Vax fighting with unstable patrons when they worked at the pubs. Vax fighting with drunkards outside pubs who tried to make a move on her.

Vax was getting into a lot of fights, she realised. Her worry was cut short by everyone around her suddenly getting busy packing up. She hadn't even noticed that Percy had ended class.

„Vex, could you stay a bit?“

Almost. She'd almost slipped out of the room unnoticed. She needed to work on her stealthiness. Now she had to face another definitely awkward chat with this, this goober.

Steady, she tried to calm herself while sauntering over to his desk, you might actually be lucky enough that this is not about the drunk old men again.

„Yes, Mr. De Rolo?“ She leaned against the table across him, trying to act nonchalant, and failing hard when she realised how agressively raised her shoulders were in this pose.

„I've been going through Mr. Myers' notes this past week. What with taking over this class and having to be actually prepared.“ Percy was shuffling through said notes, not looking at her. „Luckily he left pretty detailed info on everything and.. everyone. Attendance, student evaluations, all sorts of info.“

„How fascinating.“ That was not nonchalant either. That was teasing, she realised. Why, why in god's name was she trying to tease her teacher? Why did it cause him to look up, actually look at her, with those blue eyes, why was he even allowed to have such blue eyes, and why the hell were they so concerned right now?

„Vex, you're failing this course.“

Oh.

Her heart dropped all the way down into her stomach.

„I'm what?“

„According to Mr. Myers' notes and your review. Apparently your participation is sub-standard, and your short-exam results...“ He shuffled to another paper. „He's also noted down that rude answers on questions you don't know the solution to are not going to earn you extra points.“ He couldn't hide a short, but amused snort. At any other time she would've found it endearing.

„I'm failing the course? Actually failing?“ Her hands were grabbing the desk under her so hard the knuckles turned white.

„At the moment, yes.“ Percy tried to smile at her, tried to soften the blow any way he could. „I don't really share Mr. Myers' opinion on your participation, but as it stands... your current grades will be hard to turn around.“

„I can't fail this course.“ Her heart, still down in her stomach, was racing. She didn't even know what would happen if she failed a non-mandatory course. All she could think of was being told that for some reason she couldn't continue her studies. That she'd have to leave the school, or spend a year making up for this stupid engineering class, paying out of her ass for another year she didn't want to-

„I can't fail this course.“ She simply repeated, her face almost as white as her knuckles now.

„You don't necessarily have to.“

Her head shot up, staring straight at Percy. His eyes were more hopeful than her entire mind was right now.

„As I said, it will be hard to turn your grades around. But I think you can do it, if you put in the extra work.“ Another paper shuffle. He was doing that a lot. „You need to do more in class, obviously. Get at least a B on your next exams. And to make up the missing points from the past lessons, I've collected some additional tasks you can hand in, like an essay and some research-“ he was almost nervous looking for those papers now „- and if you just turn these in bit by bit during the rest of the semester, and do them well, I'm pretty sure you'll make it through, even if your final grade is not, well, the best you could do.“

He handed over the papers he finally got together. Her hands were shaking as she took them, they both noticed. Staring at the pages, she had a hard time focussing on the text.

„So I have to hand all these in.“ Was all she could say.

„Whenever, basically. The only real deadline is a week before final class, so I can mark them in time. Or earlier, of course, if you get it done.“

„This is a lot.“ She flipped over the pages. What the hell, Vex? Are you complaining about being given a chance to make up for your fuck-up? Percy's look seemed to echo her thoughts.

„Well, there is a lot to catch up. You can try to turn this ship around, or“ he shrugged „you let it sink and just drop the class.“

„No!“ That may have been a bit too quick of a reaction.

„It's not mandatory for you, though, is it? People drop extra classes all the time.“

„I'm not dropping anything. I can do this.“

„I hope you do.“ Rude. Was that rude? She wasn't sure. It was hard to make out his intentions right now, what with staring at pages of pages, full of equations and questionaires and graphs. As it was, she just huffed indignantly.

„I can. I will.“ Maybe she shouldn't be quite so rude in return. „Erm, thank you, of course. For letting me make it up, I mean.“

„It's the least I can do.“ He smiled, thank god. She was feeling more at ease, seeing that. Maybe a bit too much.

„Or you could just fudge some numbers and let me pass.“ As soon as she said it, she regretted it. That was definitely a step too far into teasing again.

Percy snorted again, trying to hide a short laugh.

„Don't push it, Vex.“ It could be just her imagination, but she was pretty sure there was teasing in his voice too.

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

„Vex!“ A voice from the other end of the street called. „Vex, wait!“

For a second, she hoped it was Percy trying to come after her. It was a ridiculous thought, though – he wouldn't have been fast enough to match her speed, he definitely wouldn't follow her all the way home anyway, and besides, she would've recognised his voice (it was hard to admit that, even to herself).

Instead, when she turned she saw a woman almost as tall as Percy come jogging, her bright red hair trailing behind her. Vex tried to smile as best as she could when she recognised her.

„Oh Keyleth, hi! We don't have study group today, or did I miss something?“

„Oh nonono, don't worry. I'm, I'm just on my way over to- Vax and I were gonna meet up-“ Keyleth began to stutter and blush. Vex had been wondering what was going on between those two, but it was becoming pretty obvious by now.

„He didn't tell me he had a date. Do you want the flat to yourself?“ She winked and got the expected result – the poor girl in front of her went almost crimson.

„Oh gosh, oh, no, we wanted to get some, um, just some lunch. Down at Gilmore's. You're, uh, welcome to come along if you want!“

„Don't worry, I won't bother you. I haven't got time, anyway. Gotta do a whole lot of extra homework tonight.“ She kept walking towards her apartment house, Keyleth now in tow.

„Oh, what, extra homework? What for?“

Vex sighed dramatically. „This stupid as shit engineering class my idiot arse signed up for. Apparently I'm falling behind.“

„The one with the horrible substitute last week?“ Well, wasn't Vax a chatterbox, apparently. She didn't remember telling Keyleth anything about that.

„Yeah. Except he's not a substitute anymore. He's taken over the class now.“ She stopped dead in her tracts, and Keyleth only noticed after getting quite a few steps further. „Oh god, don't tell Vax that, okay? He still thinks that guy has it out for me, he's only gonna worry about it.“

Keyleth quickly nodded, but raised one eyebrow. „Um, I mean. If he's giving you extra work now, Vax is sort of right, though? Is the teacher picking on you, maybe?“

„No, no. The work is help for me. I'm, uh, I need to get my grades up, and he offered it for extra points.“

Keyleth's worried face lit up just as quick. „That's nice! If you need any help, just ask – I mean, I don't know much about engineering... nothing, really... but we could do a library date if you need to? Additional study group?“

„I might actually take you up on that.“

They'd arrived at the twins' front door now, and Vex tried not to think about everything she'd been fretting over on her way home. She especially tried not not think about Percy's worried look when he saw her pale face. Or his hopeful smile when he offered the help. Or his face at all.

It was easier to forget his face when she saw Vax's behind the door – giving a bright smile to Keyleth, which quickly turned into absolute shock and embarassment when he noticed his sister behind her. Now this was definitely the right place for teasing.

[Part 3]

(other fanfics: -non-AU-)

Percy being a wreck about having babies

Percy being a wreck about protecting his new baby

Proof that his kids are doing just fine with him as a dad

Percy is a wreck after Vex kills him in his dreams

[writing-wyns]

seven years

I had an idea, and then I did the idea. And then it spiraled out of control. 

Happy Valentine’s Day everyone!!!! Here’s some pointless fluff featuring your fave boys except they’re like almost 30 years old and still gross as ever. 

Enjoy!

AO3

Bokuto swears that there is something definitely up about sci-fi movies. Not a bad something, but it whooshes around in his stomach, making it twist and knot and he wants the feeling gone. It’s makes him wiggle in his spot on the couch like he’s got a bad case of the ants in the pants and for all he knows, maybe he does. He’s happy, for sure, he’s happy because Kuroo is there, sitting on his feet like he always does and looks damn good in their home: the lights from the TV are soft on his form, contrasting the nightfall shadows, it highlights his angled nose and dyes his already dark hair with shades of pink and red.

His hands are clammy and he touches his fingers to the palms before wiping them on his tshirt with a look of mild disgust. It’s not a bad feeling he has, he knows this for a fact, but he’s positive his stomach just folded in on itself, and that is definitely not good. It’s when he wiggles his toes, where they’re wedged under Kuroo’s ass does he realize just what in the hell is up.

“What are you smiling for?” Kuroo asks, looking at him now. His eyes are squinted because of how dark it is, but the TV flashes onto his face for a quick second and all Bokuto can see is pure joy.

“I’m not smiling,” Bokuto says, but he knows it’s a lie as soon as he says it because his cheeks burn, like he’s been smiling all this time, and - holy hell - he has been.

Kuroo is smiling too now, it grows slowly, creeping up on his face like the morning’s sunrise. “Yes you are,” he singsongs.

He’s giggling -giggling of all things - like a fucking school girl, and he throws his head back on the armrest of the couch, slaps his hands over his face as a cover, and mumbles out around a laugh, “I am definitely not smiling.”

“You are clearly smiling you goober,” Kuroo’s laughing too now. Bokuto’s thinks they’ve caught some weird new disease. Where the symptoms include: spontaneous smiling, random outbursts of laughing, and in severe cases - like himself - not being able to look your boyfriend in the eye. “C’mon Kou, spill the beans,” Kuroo says, his hands are on Bokuto’s knees now and he’s shaking them, as if he could shake an answer right out of him.

“I’m not telling.” His cheeks ache now, and he’s one hundred percent positive that if you looked up ‘face splitting grin’ in the dictionary it would be a picture of him at that exact moment.

Bokuto can feel Kuroo crawl up his body, laying on top of him til they’re face to face, the only thing blocking them from looking at each other is the permanent fixture of his hands on his own face.

“I can’t believe you’re really gonna leave me hanging like this,” Kuroo says to his hands. Bokuto can feel him tug at his wrists and he presses his fingers to his face in resistance. “It can’t be that bad can it?”

Bokuto wants to scream. His heart is in his stomach, or maybe his stomach is at maximum whoosh, maybe his whole entire organ system has exploded, or - or something. “It really is that bad,” he mutters into his hands, “It is so so bad.”

“Like on a scale of one to ten, how bad is it?”

“Thirteen.”

Kuroo is laughing so hard at the admission that Bokuto can barely make out the “oh my god” he manages to choke out. It’s a pretty opportune time to sneak a peek at the man above him, Bokuto thinks, but dear god was he wrong,; because Kuroo’s face is bright and grinning, beaming that lopsided grin he does when he just can’t help himself. Where his eyes crinkle at the ends, and his teeth show, and his nose scrunches up ever so slightly; and Bokuto doesn’t know what the fuck his organs are doing, but it is so goddamn painful that all he can do is let out the weakest of groans as he slides his body even further across the armrest and off the couch.

Kuroo slides down his body with the movement, his chin coming to a rest on Bokuto’s chest, nothing but amusement in his voice when he asks, “What now?”

Bokuto huffs out a breath, his hands haven’t left his face for a single moment, and presses his fingers even harder to his skin, desperately trying to hide that stupid smile that just won’t go away. “You promise you won’t laugh?”

“I will not make a single sound,” Kuroo promises.

“Okay?” Bokuto breathes out the question to himself, and he hears Kuroo echo the word. He takes in a deep breath, filling his lungs, lets it go all in one breath, and says, “I like you so much, like a whole lot, and I am physically dying.”

There’s one whole second of silence til Bokuto tentatively moves his hands away from his face and chances a look at Kuroo, his hand flying back up immediately at the sight.

“You said you wouldn’t laugh!”

Kuroo’s lips are pressed so thin, mouth twisted off to the side, that he can barely manage an, “I’m not!” without completely losing it.

“You’re smiling,” Bokuto accuses.

Kuroo takes a deep breath, a sad attempt to smother the bubbles of laughter that are threatening to escape. “You didn’t say I couldn’t smile.”

Another pained groan makes its way out, and Bokuto’s face is so flushed and red he doesn’t think he’ll ever return to his normal state. “I can hear you laughing you know,” if Kuroo wasn’t laying on top of him, Bokuto would have kicked him. Off the couch, preferably.

“We’re already dating,” Kuroo can barely talk he’s laughing so hard, “for years!”

“I knoooooow,” he says dragging the word out like it hurts.

“I can not believe I am being confessed to seven years into a relationship,” Bokuto interjects with a ‘shut up’ but it doesn’t look like Kuroo wants to let this one go anytime soon. “And you’re embarrassed? Gotta admit it, that’s my favorite part.”

“I take it back, I don’t like you at all. You’re the worst.”

Kuroo wiggles back up, like a giggling little snake on a mission, til he’s right in Bokuto’s face, all smug smiles. “Seven years, and you ‘like’ me? Honestly Kou, I’m a little insulted.”

Bokuto lets his head fall back against the armrest, muttering “when will you stop?” under his breath, Kuroo ignoring his obvious suffering all the while.

“I mean, you’d think after seven fucking years, someone would be, oh I don’t know, in love? Is that what you meant? Don’t tell me you were too embarrassed to tell me you love me? I won’t judge you, ya know, I’m pretty irresistible.”

“That’s it!” And Bokuto is slapping a hand over his mouth because obviously Kuroo does not know how to shut up on his own. “What can I do to make you drop this?”

Kuroo pries the hand off his face, fixing Bokuto with a look that speaks trouble.

“Say it,” Kuroo demands, like he’s got Bokuto right where he wants him.

“Say what?

“Tell me you love me and I won’t mention any of this.”

Bokuto is trying his best to glare at him but he must be doing an awful job because the smile that was already on Kuroo’s face only grows bigger. He slaps a hand over his lips again, but he can feel the upward tilt of his lips in that signature grin of his, and if that wasn’t already enough, Kuroo had taken to wiggling his eyebrows. And it is both the worst and the cutest thing Bokuto has ever witnessed in his life.

I’m a goner, Bokuto thinks. He has died and gone to heaven because of this man, he’s been resurrected and only to die again because of him and he’ll do it a thousand times over. It’s something he knows for a fact, something that is indisputable, and it grinds his weak, fragile heart into a pulp. A small little pulp because the world’s biggest idiot is lying on top of him with a smile that has reached his eyes, a pulp because it’s been seven goddamn years and he’s still not over it.

And he never will be.

“Kuroo Tetsurou,” he moves the hand from Kuroo’s mouth to his cheek, cupping it gently, thumb stroking in small circles. There is nothing special about the way Kuroo looks in that moment, there’s a day old beard on his jaw, his age has long since started to show, and he’s wearing that same old ratty tshirt from college, and yet - Bokuto is positively melting at the sight. “Kuroo Tetsurou, I am positively and absolutely head over heels and disgustingly in love with you.”

“Disgustingly?” Kuroo asks, his own personal way of trying to keep cool.

“Disgustingly.” He affirms, and Kuroo is nuzzling his cheek into his hand at the word.

The happiest little sound filters out of him, bubbling over til it fills the entire room. Its contagious and Bokuto can’t stop himself from laughing too. “Lucky for you,” he says, scooching closer and closer, their eyes crossing, “I too am positively and absolutely head over heels and disgustingly in love with you.”

They’re giggling way too much to kiss properly, like a couple still stuck in their honeymoon phase, and maybe they are. Maybe they never learned how not to be in the honeymoon phase, still caught up in the whirlwind of crushes turned first dates and tentative kisses on their parent’s doorstep.

It’s been seven years, still stuck in their honeymoon phase, and Kuroo is smiling way too much when he tries to kiss him, his lips instead finding the bridge of Bokuto’s nose and it only makes them laugh even more. He is content and pleased and thrumming like he’s on cloud nine itself with Kuroo peppering kisses all over his face, their laughter never coming to an end.

“Seven years?” He says, kissing Bokuto on the cheek and snorting.

“Shut up! Shut up! Shut up!” And Bokuto is squealing, pushing his face away but it’s been long seven years and he couldn’t be any happier if he tried.