#it has been occupying all my attention since i got my exam marks back

[crabsnpersimmons]

a little wip for a little thing i'm working on!

[wakaoujisenhime]

My congratulations with 200 followers! Can I ask scenario about Akashi's girlfriend suddenly finds out about his second identity, but she isn't scared and she accepts him?

A/N: So, with this one, I wasn’t entirely sure which setting I should put it in. I was between her finding out when he first ‘transformed’ and discovering it when he reverted back to his Teiko self. In the end, I decided to pick something in between and something entirely different, so I hope you’ll like what I came up with. ( ꈍДꈍ )

Tags: Akashi x reader ✅  SFW ✅  fluff ✅  slight angst ✅

image/art source: Twitter (art by eijo_q)

━━━━☆ ━━━━☆ ━━━━☆

A slight tint of red - Akashi x reader

You’ve been looking at these heterochromatic eyes for as long as you can remember—those cold and lonely pair of eyes that belonged to your beloved boyfriend, Akashi.

The captain of Japan’s most popular and most feared team was unrivaled in many aspects, and that trait made him a highly respected individual amongst his peers. Unfortunately, that respect also bore negative feelings such as fear, hatred, and jealousy that were the main reasons people decided to avoid his presence.

But you were different. Those rumors didn’t face you in any way; if anything, they motivated you to actually find out more about the man who earned himself countless titles.

The moment you two first looked into each other’s eyes, shivers went down your spine, and if your memory didn’t betray you, then he probably felt the same way. Back then, you felt like you couldn’t move for a slight moment, but thanks to your friends and his teammates, who brought you back to reality, the two of you snapped out of it quicker than you might have wanted.

It took you both quite a while to actually start a conversation since he wasn’t usually the type to initiate such things. At the same time, you, on the other hand, were either too shy or unsure whether you interpreted the short connection you guys had correctly or not. But when you finally succeeded, neither of you had to struggle and find a suiting topic; the conversation just started developing on its own. And after a few months during which you had several interactions with the red-haired young man, it became evident that you had fallen in love with him, so now came the question whether you should confess to him or not, when and how...

Much to your surprise, you had the support of many of his classmates and basketball team members. They repeatedly encouraged you, saying just how good the two of you got along and how his mood had improved when he was with you. Needless to say, that boosted your confidence to a certain degree and gave you the needed courage to begin your quest.

Unfortunately for you, your attempts didn’t differ much from how you normally treated and talked to him. Still, you were determined to continue giving it your best until he either realizes it or until you found the best time to confess.

But your plans weren’t including the most important chess piece in this story, namely Akashi.

While you were forging one plan after the other, you were completely unaware of how the red-haired young man had seen past your actions and was already aware of the feelings you harbored for him. He knew, but he chose to remain silent and wait until you felt prepared enough to tell him.

And then one day, you finally stood before him with your cheeks slightly flushed and your eyes wandering but never focusing on the person before you. You were an adorable sight for him to behold, but he didn’t want to uselessly torture you any further, so he decided to initiate the dialogue.

“Is everything alright (Y/N)..?”

The gentleness in his voice caught you off guard, but it also helped to get the ball rolling, and before you knew, your confession was already in full swing. Firstly, you began reassuring him that everything was alright, that he needn’t worry about you, and that the reason you called him was a positive one. After a short break, you then proceeded to reveal all the feelings you’ve been harboring for him...

When you were done, he remained silent for a short while and gave you his answer...an answer that surprised you.

“Then today marks our first day as an official couple.”

——

The first few months went by pretty well. Your boyfriend had even made sure to divide his time between his training and you equally. He even made a weekly weekend date customary for the two of you, additionally making sure that the place you went to or the activity you did never repeated itself.

But what is a relationship between two people if only one person does the entire work?

That’s what you asked him one day. Akashi was surprised, of course, but he quickly understood why you’d say that, so he decided to tone down a bit and allow you to plan some of the dates as well.

A good and loyal man whom you could call your boyfriend, who made sure you were treated like a queen and whose yellow and red eyes were always only focused on you and you alone.

Could your life get more perfect?

Or at least that’s what outsiders and bystanders would think...

You see, no matter how much Akashi tried to smile at you, there was always something bugging you about it.

At first, you decided to ignore it and thought that it was your imagination and that all he needed was a little time until he could tell you what haunted his mind, but the longer you waited, the gloomier his expression grew, and it worried you. Not only were you not used to him appearing that distanced at times, but what hurt you the most was the fact that he wasn’t even intending on sharing anything with you.

Instead of doubting his trust in you, a more direct approach was in order, so you decided to just ask him yourself; all you needed was an opportunity, and what worked better than everyone’s beloved test period?

Next to your weekly dates and your monthly horseback riding expeditions, the two of you also organized a small tutoring group where you or some of Rakuzan’s basketball members would seek Akashi’s help in topics they didn’t understand. Luckily they were not always up for studying more than they had to, so the two of you got at least some privacy from time to time. So when the exam period started, you prayed to whichever deity you believed in, to give the two of you some time together.

The moment your finger pushed the doorbell on your boyfriend’s extravagant front door, you expected to be greeted by one of his butlers, but instead were greeted by a warm embrace from your beloved.

“Hope you won’t mind that today is going to be just the two of us.”

“Oh no, not at all!”

You were overjoyed to hear this but tried to appear as calm as you could while Akashi brought you to the living room, where some papers were already splayed out on a table.

After you had taken a seat and placed the snacks you had brought with you next to the tray with some of your favorite beverages, the two of you discussed what subjects and problems you’ll be going through today. Since you truly needed some help with a few subjects, your plan to talk to him had to be postponed for a short while.

When the two of you were about to move on to the next pile of tasks, you looked at your boyfriend’s profile and began: “Hey Akashi...it’s not school-related, but I have a small question for you. Is that ok?”

You saw his red eye shift its attention to you as he nodded his head slightly, a small smile adorning his lips.

Here goes nothing...

“So, I’ve noticed that there are times during which you tend to look quite sad and troubled. At first, I thought that whatever it was, you just needed some time to process it yourself until you could tell me. Still, that plan backfired quite a bit, since your expression has been getting worse,” you stilled to let him process your line of thoughts first, and then you resumed, “I just hope that you know how much I care for you, and if I have given you the impression that I don’t, then let me apologize. Akashi, I truly care for you, more than you might think...and more than I sometimes show, so I would be really happy if you could at least entrust me with some of the thoughts that have occupied your mind.”

You took another break to look at the man next to you and immediately noticed how much his body had tensed up. Whatever you chose to say next was about to either provoke a change in your relationship or let it circle around the same iceberg as before. So you mustered all the courage within you, took his hand, squeezing it, and said: “I love you Akashi, but if we don’t talk this out now, I’m not sure if we’ll have another chance like this...”

Silence...

Whatever you just said had quite an impact on your boyfriend, more than you ever expected. His entire face went pale, and his eyes seemed unable to focus on you or your face anymore. You were worried that this topic might’ve been too big of a landmine for your fresh relationship, but there was no way for you to return anymore, so you had no choice but to go through with it.

Akashi sighed and stood up, his back turned to you. He looked so lonely that you couldn’t help but follow his lead and stand a few meters behind him, leaving your boyfriend enough free space but also maintaining a certain closeness, just in case he needed an embrace or anything of that sort.

Another short period of silence followed during which the red-haired young man looked out of his living room’s window and apparently tried to calm his nerves down for the upcoming talk.

“(Y/N), there’s something I’ve been...keeping from you for quite a while.”

I knew it...

It was no secret that you expected that to be the case, but you couldn’t help but be curious as to what that secret was, so in order to tame your curiosity and stop yourself from showering him with countless questions, you bit your lower lip. You already had a few hunches as to what that secret might or might not be, but you remained silent and waited for him to finally tell you what’s been on his mind for so long...

His lips were moving, his eyes were focused on one of the many random trees in his courtyard, his hands were trembling, and all you could do was stand there and listen...listen to the most unexpected confession.

“A...second personality, you say?”

Akashi nods, and even though he turns around, his eyes never meet yours; they just blankly stare at something behind you. Usually, you would’ve followed his view, but you already knew what those beautiful eyes of his were fixated on.

His childhood photos...

Even if his confession of having a second personality sounded quite far-fetched at first, now that the both of you were silent, you had some time to actually think it over, and much to your surprise, it made sense...to a certain degree, at least. His eye’s sudden change in color and the abrupt disappearance of his angelic smile from his middle school’s days were drastic developments in a brief span of time, judging by the intervals in which the photos were taken. When you first noticed this peculiarity, you thought that either something on a biological level or something bad in general had happened, so you had made up your mind to drop it for the time being. Who would’ve thought that you’d be getting an answer to that as well today?

“I-I’m sorry (Y/N)...if my story sounds too unbelievable or too unrealistic for you, then please feel free to label it as some kind of fairytale I came up with to put your mind at ease.“

You squinted your eyes, trying to comprehend just what kind of nonsense your boyfriend was coming up with, and before you could even think of an answer, your mouth was already open, throwing the first things that came to your mind at him.

“What if I choose to believe you, though? What would you do then Akashi? Would you push me away like all the other times, or would you keep on pretending that everything’s alright? Huh? Tell me...“

The young man was clearly taken aback by your direct questions, but he recovered quickly and turned his back to you, mumbling something about you not being able to grasp the true meaning behind his words and how you couldn’t handle his true self.

He must’ve thought that you weren’t going to hear his self-talk, but you did...and what you heard made you extremely mad. Pure rage clouded your judgment, and the next thing you knew was how Akashi’s back was pressed against the wall and how your hands were gripping his shirt’s collar.

“How dare you say something like that?! Do you really think that I’m that insensible and shallow?”

You continuously threw your feelings and thoughts at him, not noticing just how worked up you truly were. At one point, though, Akashi just couldn’t take it anymore and wrapped his arms around your trembling body, pulling it towards his chest where you could continue to cry. Now that you were enveloped in that oh so familiar warmth, you just couldn’t keep on screaming at him, so you just closed your eyes, held onto him, and tried stopping your tears from ruining his already crumpled shirt. While you were doing that, he placed his hand on top of your head and stroked it gently, calming you down even further.

“(Y/N)...I’m truly sorry, I never intended to doubt you; it’s just tha-“

“Don’t apologize Akashi...I understand”

He wanted to tell you just how scared he was of your reaction because you were one of the few people he trusted enough to tell this to, and all the others who saw, experienced, and even knew of his change ended up being either weirded out or too scared. 

But you were different, and even if he knew that, he just couldn’t risk losing the light of his life, and that’s why he decided to keep it a secret from you, up until now. When he saw how mad you got for his sake, how sad it made you the moment you found out just how heavy this has weighed on his mind, it made him understand that even if you were scared somewhere deep down, you’d still look for a way to make him feel better and try your best to understand him. 

That realization was all he needed as he gently planted a featherlight kiss on the top of your head and raised your chin so that you could look him directly into the eyes.

At that moment, you could’ve sworn that his iconic yellow eye had a slight tint of red in it. 

I love you...

[prince-toffee]

Villains

Part Two

The room was empty and bare. The room was very plain, no paintings or pictures hung or framed, no personalised items, no trinkets or mementos. The space was devoid of any personality or warmth. This partially due to the fact that everything personal was moved out of the room, and also the fact that the person whom once occupied these living quarters wasn’t one for forming close personal attachments. Shadow Weaver sat on a beautiful ornate wooden chair at the centre of the sterile room. She watched the blank dark green wall as she took a long sip from her glass of red wine.

That room was once hers. When she officially aligned with The Horde, she was given her own bed chamber as she had to live in The Fright Zone as an unspoken rule. Where else would have she been accepted? She had no where else to go. She was pleased with what she was given, the room was quite large, she had a queen sized bed, her own side bathroom, with a toilet, shower, sink, and bath all included. The bath in particular became a favourite location, useful in relaxation after a long day of dealing with cadets that made her blood boil and her blood pressure rise. Over time she did personalise the room, add various scented shampoos and what not, some artistic and yet horrifying paintings, and a study with all her work - reports, cadet exams, notices, and request forms over which she lost her mind too many times.

Her quiet pleasant contemplation was cut short as Force-Captain Cobalt’s voice invaded the room through the data-pad which leaned against one of the wooden legs of the chair she sat on. The blue porcupine man cleared his throat, “Umm, Sha- uh, Lord Shadow Weaver.”

“Speak.”

“All your personal belongings have been moved to Lor- to Hordak’s old Sanctum. But there’s another emergence that requires your attention.” Weaver sighed, she responded by saying she would be there in a few minutes. She downed the glass of wine in seconds, it was a good year, shame she couldn’t have savoured the taste, she had saved that bottle for a victorious occasion. And she couldn’t have thought of a better occasion.

The witch just discarded the glass by simply throwing it away, it shattered on impact, of course. But the brand new leader didn’t care. Not anymore. She was in charge, no consequences, it felt so freeing. The scarred woman shifted her mask over her grey face and moved out. She did not admit to another soul the fact that she was ashamed of her physical appearance, she never betrayed a weakness, she was distant therefore safe. There was logic and reason to her outfit - a frightening mask to deflect any questions about her face, a high collar to hide her neck, and then a layered robe to allow no part of her scarred, wounded, burned body to be seen. She implemented the opposite tactic to Hordak, he choose to show some flesh, some key areas of his body that were healthy and strong to deflect any suspicion or conspiracy of him being otherwise. Anyone who saw Hordak, as rare as it was, they all thought the dark Lord was a modern Adonis. Nobody suspected he was in fact a sick frail man who was slowly falling apart.

Shadow Weaver knew about Hordak’s ‘sickness’, and vis versa. There was a deal between them, both knew each other’s weakness, and so they formed a partnership to support one another. Hordak had the Black Garnet in his possession after acquiring the Scorpion Hill Kingdom, and so he handed the magical artefact to Shadow Weaver, he knew the Garnet was useless in his hands, he had no knowledge therefore no ability to utilise the Garnet. But Shadow Weaver could. She was brought in as his Minister of Magicks to advice the Horde in the magical ways, how to defend against magic, and how to weaponise magic in offense.

The rune stone gave her sufficient life force for her to leech off of, never again was she hungry. And she wielded the awesome power of the elemental mineral. In return Shadow Weaver took the spotlight off of Hordak, the duty of truly commanding the Horde’s forces, leaving Hordak free to do... whatever he did. Weaver never knew what Hordak did in his ‘Sanctum’, all she ever managed to get out of him was the fact he was working on a secret ‘experiment’, and she knew that much was a slip up. It didn’t matter now anyhow, all of Hordak’s secrets were going to be hers and if not, then they don’t matter anyway.

She waltzed through the corridors and hallways of red and green metal, pipes, and cables, at a leisurely pace. Unlike Hordak, who’s heavy metallic footsteps always alerted the soldiers ahead of time in the corridor, Shadow Weaver made no sound, didn’t allow any trooper to get ready, they had no idea she was coming. She scared the hellfire out of everyone she passed. They always jumped in shock, straightened themselves out and stiffened. Weaver liked that.

The noise of double doors sliding open marked her entrance into the throne room, her throne room. Her commanders turned to her and bowed. She liked that too. “Speak.”

“Lord Weaver, while we were breaching Hordak’s Sanctum, which was harder than we thought it would be, a lot of booby traps, we got around a dozen treating wounds in the infirmary. But anyway when we got in we acquired all of his personal belongings mostly just tech. One of his personal data-pads gave off a ping, some sort of automatic notification. It was a signal sent from an outpost in the Northern Reach in the frozen wastes, apparently the computers there have detected some new First Ones tech.”

“Ah perfect! That’s exactly what we need!” Shadow Weaver heard the vent being kicked open, only then when she lifted her head up to the high ceiling did she see the short purple woman descend to her to the floor. This. of course, was Entrapta the Princess of Dryl. Shadow Weaver didn’t like her much, she was the one to whom Hordak was going to give the Black Garnet. They didn’t see, but her face soured as her arms folded. “Have you briefed her about the power grid?”

Cobalt sighed, “I was about to.” It seemed that the Princess had interjected herself into Horde matters and into the command structure. She swung around like she owned the place. And Hordak would’ve probably let her walk all over him too.

“Well, since I’m here already I’ll explain. The Fright Zone’s power grid, a surprising intricate system that transfers power all around The Fright Zone keeping everything running, over heated. Meaning it’s stopped working, coolant systems have failed and ruptured expelling scolding steam through the corridors, a powerful and dangerous feedback surge has been created leading to the destruction through explosion of the main power-generators. Multiple floors are on fire. In Layman’s terms: It’s bad.”

“We are not imbeciles, Princess, do not treat us as such. You are not in command here, so I would watch your tone with me! You are only here, but I permit it.” Weaver pointed her finger at the hovering woman.

Entrapta looked down at the grey finger of the sorceress and then turned around, “Mmm, no, I am here because I want to be.” She began to stride across the throne room using her hair. Shadow Weaver still didn’t know if the purple tentacle hair was a magical ability or a technological aspect. Either way she followed the Princess. With a simple wave of her hand she dismissed her Force-Captains, its not like they wanted to stay around her so Cobalt, Grizzlor, and Octavia left without any further convincing. The witch kept up with the Princess. She made no sound when she walked, but the purple woman somehow knew she was close enough behind her to hear her, “As I was saying, the power grid can’t hold the amount of power it transmits, so we need a strong conductor, maybe a regulator too. That’s why the signal from the Northern Reach is a mighty convenient occasion. First Ones tech is ideal for the job. My recommendation: Send an excursion to the outpost, excavate the tech, transport it back here and install it in, solving the issue.”

“I didn’t ask for your ‘recommendation’... but that is a decent solution.” They passed the throne and moved forward through a thin hallway of pipes, as they reached its end a door slide open. Past it they entered a sort of  a corridor round-about, another door in front of them. The corridor curved around to multiple doors, opposite the doors were windows of one way glass looking over the landscape of The Fright Zone.

Shadow Weaver noted the burn marks and metallic plating torn and shredded, signs of damage caused by an explosion. The booby traps the Force-Captains spoke of. All disarmed, she hoped. The Sanctum doors opened, Entrapta entered first, Shadow Weaver followed close behind. Hordak’s Sanctum was a dimly lit tall box, computers all around it with data Entrapta couldn’t wait to get into. Various tech scattered around. To contrast all that were Shadow Weaver’s own belongings moved from her old room to her new one. “I like the paintings, good taste. I’ve got paintings too, back at home. But I prefer little cute big eyed kitties, rather than abstract horrific rorschach-like depictions of inner turmoil of anxieties. Hm, perhaps representing repressed and or traumatic memories. Interesting.”

Weaver raised a brow as she narrowed her eyes, “Uh huh. Thank you.” She was spot on. Her eyes could barely keep up with the Princess. She seemed very excited. She finally stopped dashing across the room madly and stood still at the centre of the room. Her pigtails split into multiple ends each tendril plugging into a different computer or any other data-holding devices, her hair fuzzed and the ends of each tendril lit up in a bright purple, on the boarder of being pink. The light moved inward towards her head in pulse-like motion. Weaver guessed, correctly, that Entrapta was downloading the information into herself.

“Oh, that’s fascinating.”

“What is it?”

“I’m not sure.” Before Shadow Weaver could ask any follow up questions from the corner of her eye she noticed a grey blur dashed across a higher scaffolding, accompanied by sounds of small footsteps scuttling about. She looked up to see a pair of small yellow luminous eyes.

It was Hordak’s tiny bat creature, Hordak seemed to have been close and appreciative of the creature. Whether it was a pet to him or like a child she did not know. All she knew was it was an annoying tattletale - spying, recording, and telling on people, completely loyal to Hordak in the way a child tells their parent on a sibling in return for candy, or chin scratches in this instance. The creature hissed. It clearly did not like Shadow Weaver, she did get rid of its creator.

“Cute.”

“What?”

“The hybrid, I think it’s named Imp. Fascinating little miracle of science.”

“Ugh, it’s as useful as a rodent. And twice as infuriating.” She said that like Imp wasn’t there in the room with them, he heard that and launched at the sorceress, biting her in her finger. The dark magician yelped and shook her hand in a cartoony comedic manner, a few seconds of the motion and Imp’s grip loosened and he flew through the air and landed in Entrapta’s hair where she brought him closer to her and gave him some soft scratches under his chin. He softened in her arms and pressed his cheeks against her shoulder. He stock his tongue out, and mouth farted at Shadow Weaver. Weaver growled and sighed.

“I’m getting the feeling you don’t like me.”

“What inclination makes you say that?”

“Oh just about anything and everything you do.” Entrapta unplugged from the tech and finally turned to face Shadow Weaver. She gave her a genuine smile, warm and well-meaning, “How about a dinner?”

“Excuse me?”

“You’re clearly not a fan of mine, and this might be a beneficial social experiment to let us know each other better, since we’ll be working closely together for the foreseeable future.”

“Heh, what makes you think we’ll be ‘working closely together’?”

“You do want to know what this Hordak had been working on, don’t you? Do you know anyone else who can comprehend this sort of stuff?”

“I... I suppose not.” It was true, she didn’t, so Entrapta was important. But she wouldn’t admit that, and she would certainly not go to a dinner with a Princess. Before she could scoff any further, she heard a shy voice clear its throat. Weaver turned around to face it. It was Scorpia. Princess Scorpia.

“Umm, Ms Weaver, the uh, the excursion transport is ready. What are our next orders, ma’am, sir, m’Lord, Lady, Shadow Weaver... sir.” The Scorpion Princess awkwardly informed, her large red claw raised up to her temple, saluting. Two or three drips of sweat rolled down her face. For being so huge and muscular walking-rectangle she was very shy and small.

“What transport?!”

“Oh I was the one who requested it.” Entrapta replied. Entrapta moved through the room past the new Lord and moved to Scorpia. She handed the bat baby to the Scorpion Force-Captain, the hybrid boy kept attempting to chomp on Entrapta’s hair. Scorpia cradled the batling, whom now moved onto biting the hard claws. “We should solve the problem as soon as possible, so I gave a go-ahead.”

Shadow Weaver’s hand instinctly went up to her face, her muscle memory told her to rub her nose in exhausted irritation, but of course her mask blocked her hand. “Fine. Go. Fix my fortress.” She waved her hand to dismiss them, Scorpia and Imp moved out swiftly, only once she moved out of frame did Weaver notice that Catra stood behind her. The cat was sweating, clearly very nervous, she didn’t say anything, and followed Scorpia out. Entrapta hanged behind.

“Dinner. When I get back. We’ll talk. Takes around four hours to get to the outpost, four back, and a day in-between for excavation. So in three days, at 7, The Fright Zone cafeteria. I’ll cook.”

[kosmosian-quills]

Bad to Worse

A very poorly written thing because I’m tired and tried to finish this for today. It also is probably not going to get used in the final version, but I wanted it written anyway.

Anyway, meet Tomasz! I have @cirianne to thank for the creation of this kind boy. I’M SORRY I HAD TO GET THIS OUT OF ME OK.

WIP: Angel

POV: Tomasz

Date: Monday, May 4th 2026

If exam preparations have taught me one thing, it’s that I really should listen to past me when they say go to bed on time, because it is now 8:52am, and I am going to be late for class if I don’t hurry up.

I look a mess, I know, I’m wearing yesterday’s jeans, a t shirt I found on the top of my clean clothes pile, and my backpack is slung over my shoulder as I hurried to grab it on my way out of the halls. I hadn’t even had the chance to grab anything real for breakfast yet. Urgh, I can’t be like this. Not when I have an exam tomorrow. I should be better than this.

It’s fine, calm down. I think I’ve still got that chocolate bar in my bag from yesterday. That’ll do until I can grab something else later.

The journey from halls to my lecture hall isn’t that far, about a 10 minute walk at most, but if I run like I am now, I can probably be there for just about 9am. I hope.

I had been awake until almost 4am this morning, so I’m running on nothing but will power at the moment. I’ve been so carefully diligent with my work this year, I don’t know why I thought studying at 3am was a good idea. I know that it isn’t an option tonight, not when one of my final exams is tomorrow morning. 9am sharp!

I make it into the lecture hall with barely a minute to spare, and find my seat with my friends, already seated and waiting.

“Running late, Tomasz?” Heidi smirked as I practically threw my bag down beside my seat, panting like a dog.

“I am not late, thank you very much,” I replied. “Class hasn’t started yet, has it?”

“Close enough,” Bruno nodded in the direction of the door, tapping his pen against his notebook, where the Professor was just coming into the room. “What did you do, sleep in?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’m here, and that is what matters,” I pulled out my laptop, turning it on and tapping it impatiently. I really need an upgrade for this, but it’s all I can afford at the moment. It does its job well enough, just when I am a little more punctual.

I settle into the rhythm of the lecture quickly enough, sat with the friends I’ve come to know and learn with for the past seven months.

The time does pass ridiculously quickly during these formal-informal study sessions in preparation for our exams, but even I was surprised that Heidi actually looked at her phone when it buzzed.

Heidi was a student from southern Germany, somewhere bordering Austria I think. She’s a lovely girl, even if she is easily distracted. I can’t fault her though, she does well in classes and tests.

Bruno is quite the opposite. He is normally the one telling us to stop slacking and get studying. He’s technically German, but his family lived over in Kosmos for a few years when he was younger. I have to say, it’s very comforting to have someone from home here, even though he and his family left a few years ago.

She passes her phone aside to me, whispering aside “Look, Tomasz. You’ve still got family over there, right?”

The screen was a breaking news report, something that had happened in the last ten minutes.

Terrorist attack in Kosmosian capital.

I took it from her, skimming through the article. An explosion rocked the main street in the capital city as the citizens partake in their independence day festivities… there are dozens of confirmed casualties and at least 7 deaths…

Explosion. Casualties. Deaths!

Oh, no!

Terrorist attacks in my country are virtually unheard of. I don’t think there has been one, ever! At least, in my lifetime. What is going on there? I had totally forgotten that today was the Flower Festival, especially since my attempts at staying up until the early hours of this morning, but that’s a despicable strategy in order to ensure a lot of victims. Everyone is out in the streets today, it’s tradition for many of them.

“Not… in the capital, thankfully. But that’s awful.” I whispered, being careful not to distract the other students here.

That’s not entirely true though. I don’t have family there, true.

“I’ve got a friend there, in the capital.”

“Maybe you should give them a call?”

“She won’t have her phone, she’s not allowed it during the day,” I tell her as I pull out my phone, scrolling through my instant messages to find her contact. Słoneczka, I have her noted as, the picture is of her smiling back at me, taken the day she left Obokplaży before she started her shiny new job.

“Not allowed? Why wouldn’t she be allowed her phone?” Bruno joined in.

“She works for the Royal family. It’s kind of, a rule. She’ll see it later, I’m sure.” I told them as I started typing my message. Hey, Słoneczka. I saw the news, I hope everything’s okay over there. Stay safe.

I feel awful that I don’t try and call her, but I know it’s useless to even try. She just won’t be able to answer the call, so there’s no point. I hope she’ll see my message later, though. Maybe she’ll be allowed her phone to call her parents when things have calmed down, and she’ll see my message then.

“Oh yeah, I remember you saying. She’ll be fine. They’ve got tonnes of security, though, right?”

“Yeah, yeah…” I murmured, waiting for the confirmation that the message had been successfully delivered. It had.

I sent a message to my parents too, even though they’re home in Obokplazy, so I know they’ll be safe, but I wanted to be sure. It’s a terrible thing to happen.

“Tomasz, if you need to go, just go,” Heidi whispered to me, obviously aware that I hadn’t been paying attention for the last few minutes.

“No, I’m fine, I’ll be fine.” I said dismissively, putting my phone away and finally getting back to my lecture.

--- 

Date: Monday, May 4th 2026

By the time our morning break arrived, it seemed more frightful news reared its ugly head.

Something had happened at the castle, it seemed, due to the sudden arrival of the military and the total communication breakdown. One of the most unifying days in our calendar and it’s chaos over there, it seems. The last update was over an hour ago, and we had heard no more.

All I can think about it Matylda, over there in that castle. Whatever’s going on, she’s in the thick of it. I find myself staring at the message I sent her – still unread, and I just wish she would answer me. The rational part of my brain knows that if something is going on inside the castle, her last priority will be returning to her bedroom to fetch her phone and answer a half-hearted text from me, sent when I wasn’t aware that this had happened. I am also aware that even if she had her phone, the chances of her calling me are slim. I know what she’s like, she’ll call her parents first. In fact, should I call them? Should I just let them know that I am thinking about her? Ask them to let me know if they hear anything from her?

No, I shouldn’t. It would be rude and presumptuous of me. She’ll let me know in her own time, I’m sure. Besides, what Bruno said earlier is true. They’ve got the best security they could possibly have against any potential threat. She will be fine.

I still can’t shake the feeling, though, that something catastrophic has happened there. The radio silence is not helping either.

And of course this is happening around exam time.

There was one other Kosmosian national beside myself in our class, and she was shaken by the news, but her family live in Wgórach, so they’re safe from all the chaos. I’m thankful all the same that my family aren’t involved in any way.

Hey Słoneczka – I begin typing again – I hope you read this soon, and that everything is okay where you are.

I send the message before I even process what I wrote, and I am aware that the message I sent is probably… not the best way to end that.

I mean, I know it’s not. But I hope you and everyone else is alright. Let me know when you can.

The messages are still left unread, marked “Delivered”. It seems like an insult, mocking me, that I don’t know any more. Damn it, I’m worried about her. I haven’t seen her in almost a year, and I hope that the events over there haven’t taken her away from me. Of course I’ve spoken with her, and had conversations with her, but it’s not the same.

I don’t want to say there was something special in that kiss she gave me, because I am probably thinking too much into it, but there was something. The way she had stood on her tiptoes just to reach my cheek, and how scared she looked afterwards. I remember being stunned by her action, and could do no more to make her feel better than to return the kiss.

It was wonderful to share that with her. I just hope she’s okay.

---

Date: Monday, May 4th 2026

By the time 4pm rolls around – a whole 6 hours since the first reports of a terrorist attack – things have gone from bad, to very bad.

The headline this time is simple.

Kosmosian monarchy overthrown.

---

Date: Tuesday, May 5th 2026

I tried to focus on my exam, I truly did, but I knew it was a lost cause all the same. I was too distracted from the task at hand. I had hoped that my endless studying would prove an effective enough way to keep me occupied until things had calmed down, but it’s not working. It’s a plague eating at me, and I can’t help but worry about the implications.

Heidi thinks I shouldn’t even try the exam, not when all this is going on, but I wanted to give it a try anyway, hoping that the distraction is enough.

But it’s not, it’s really not.

Things were bad, over there. I promised myself that I wouldn’t read any news articles until after my exam, but that was a fruitless endeavour from the start. Someone who had read the news this morning said that the only airport in the entire country had been closed. No flights in or out. Same with the ports, no boats leaving the country anymore. Total radio silence too.

What is going on? It’s been totally closed off.

I really shouldn’t have tried to do this exam. I can’t think clearly. My mind is filled with these painful thoughts. I previously, naively, stupidly thought that my family would be okay because they aren’t in the capital, but now I am not so sure. Total isolation, and I haven’t heard a thing from them. Not even since yesterday.

The worst part of this is the implications for me now. I am a student here, yet still a Kosmosian national. I am expected to return home for the summer after term has ended, but that seems unlikely. That headline last night made sure to strike that fear into me, well and truly. How am I supposed to get home if they’ve closed the borders? Will I be allowed to stay here? Just what can I do from here, when my country is in turmoil just across the sea? Barely a two hour flight from here?

What about my parents? My friends? Matylda? I have no idea if they’re even alive. Matylda was there, she must still be in the castle, at best. She could be dead right now, if that takeover was as violent as the article sounded –

Stop it. Don’t think like that. She’s fine.

But it’s still sickening to think about. I can’t be here, but if I miss this exam I doubt I will have the student visa to allow me to stay. I have to at least try. Heidi and Bruno seem certain that I could have missed this exam with zero repercussions because of what’s happening, the turmoil, but as I said to them – I want distracting whilst everything calms down.

I don’t think that will be happening.

I should probably just admit to the professor what a terrible piece of work this essay is becoming. We’re barely an hour into this exam and it feels like I have been here for almost a day. My head is throbbing, and I can’t focus anymore on this.

I somehow managed to make it to the end of the exam, not that I am proud of the little I did write, but when I turned my phone back on, what I saw made me physically ill.

Someone had livestreamed what was going on, and a news reporter had picked it up. Just two hours ago, whilst I was still in that hall, was the live, public execution of the King.

The news station couldn’t show the actual regicide, of course, but it was more than enough for me to be sure of one thing.

Matylda is probably as dead as he is.

[sunshinesukuna]

divine | nct jaehyun teacher!au x reader

Summary: The kids practically pushed you toward one another.

Genre: Fluff

“And that marks the end our lesson on cell structure and function,” you said. The students in front of you cheered and clapped. “Don’t get too excited, yet. You haven’t even done your exams.” The cheering turned into groans of dissent. You could hear someone muttering things about you in the back.

“I heard what you said, Jackson. Come see me after school later.” Jackson seemed to brush it off, scoffing and looking away. Somebody knocked on the door.

“Come in!” you called. Leaning on the doorframe in thin glasses and several papers in his hands. it was the school’s resident heartthrob, Mr. Jung Jaehyun. He taught mathematics, and you had often consulted with him when you were faced with difficult physics problems. 

“Well aren’t you being awfully mean to the students,” he remarked. “And I believe that the class period has changed.”

“Oh, hello Mr. Jung. I was just tidying up, no need to mind me. And Jackson needs to come to me after school because I was going to give him a few tips on his dancing with... GOT7?” You swiveled your head towards the blonde-haired boy. Jackson’s eyes were as big as saucers.

“Am I right?” you asked. “Your b-boying earned you that trophy at the Arts Festival last month, but your dancing still lacks technique, and you need a brushing up on the basics, Jackson.” 

You gathered up your books and laptop. Most of the class was still dumbstruck at what you had just said. You started walking to the exit.

“I see. By the way, your outfit looks good today, Miss (Y/N),” Mr. Jung said. You didn’t know what to respond with, so you simply nodded your head and went to your next class.

Over the next few weeks, you met Mr. Jung in small but sweet little encounters. You were moving between classes again and stumbled upon Mr. Jung. He was wearing a smart black suit. One of his hands ran through his hair. Suddenly, you got why all these people were calling Mr. Jung the school heartthrob. He was.. well... really damn handsome.

“Miss (L/N),” he said as he passed by during break one day. 

“Mr. Jung.” You wanted to ask him about some meeting results from last week, but you must not have been paying attention. A puddle caught you by accident. You felt yourself falling through the air. Trying to reach for something was impossible in the hallway. Nothing was there to cushion your fall except... Mr. Jung’s arm.

“Oh! Are you okay?” Mr. Jung asked. You hoisted yourself up. The students’ excited murmuring were all pointed at you. Some female students were glaring at you, but Mr. Jung paid no mind to them at all.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m alright.” Your brain was having trouble stringing together words. Small shocks of electricity prevented your body from being to function normally. You freed yourself from Mr. Jung’s grip.  “Don’t need to worry about me, ‘cause I’m... gotta go!” 

What, what, what, what, what, you thought over and over. You had just made a fool of yourself in front of Mr. Jung. Now he would think you were a total weirdo. You stopped by the bathroom to get yourself together. The person in front of you was sweaty with disheveled hair. After returning back to a better state, you walked out of the bathroom and went to go to your second class.

Fate would have you meet Jung Jaehyun again, this time, at break in the staff room. Your stomach let out a loud grumble. The last meal you had eaten was last night’s dinner, and your stomach was not putting up with it. Mr. Jung looked up at you.

“Are you hungry, Miss (L/N)?” he asked. You waved your hand. 

“No, not really. I just didn’t have breakfast.”

“Have mine.” He slid a sandwich from his table. You picked at the plastic covering it before sliding it back to him.

“No, it’s really alright, Mr. Jung. I’ll just buy something at the convenience store later at break.” You opened your laptop again, trying to get him to take back the sandwich.

“No, no, no. Just take it. You have a class after this, right?” 

“Well, yes, but-” He stood up. Picking up the sandwich in his long and nimble hands, he put it in your lap.

“Eat. And call me Jaehyun.” Mr. Jung Jaehyun extended his hand. The corners of his lips went up in a smile. Gosh, he really is handsome. You shook hands with him.

“Then call me (Y/N).” 

The halls were empty and deserted. Outside were some kids playing basketball for their extracurricular activities. There were bound to be some students inside too, but none of them were showing up. You passed an empty classroom with its door ajar. Walking up to it, you were prepared to close the door, when you heard your name. 

“And so we’re going to lead Miss (L/N) here, and you’ll be out here, and-” a student babbled from inside. From the crack in the door, you spied several students and... Jaehyun?

“I heard my name being called? Is there anything that needs me?” you said, bursting in. The students stuffed something into a drawer. You confirmed your suspicions. Ten students were crowded around two tables, with Jaehyun at the head.

“Um, oh, yeah!” a student said. You recognized them as the head of the student council. “The student council needs your help with these matters, and since your our supervisor...” The student led you out of the classroom. They began to talk about an upcoming student event and how the student council would step in. 

You nodded and gave bits of advice all while looking back at the classroom. Only one question was stuck in your head for the rest of the day. What was that man up to?

The rest of the week went smoothly. You still had your little encounters with Jaehyun, and each day he was getting sweeter and sweeter. One day, he gave you a ride home on his motorcycle when your car broke down. Another day, he bought you some food for lunch. 

Finally, Friday arrived. One last day and you would get two more days of more work! The only thing that relieved it was the fact that you got to do the work at home, instead of at school. 

It was a free period, so you were roaming the halls in search of a student you needed to speak with. “Miss (L/N)! Miss (L/N)!” somebody called. You turned back to find the head of the student council behind you. They were panting, exhausted after running.

“What’s the matter?” you asked. 

‘Well-” the student paused to take a long breath. “We’re setting up the gym for next week, and we wanna see what you think of it.” You put your hands on your hips. Well, at least this would occupy you for some time.

“Yeah, sure, let’s go.” On the way, the student chattered along about the progress of the event. He pointed out key locations around the corridors that they would use later on. However, none of his words seemed to be staying in your head.

Thought of a man snuck into your brain. A man with soft brown eyes that crinkled whenever he laughed. A man whose voice was as smooth as fresh hotel sheets. A man who had captured your heart. 

Jung Jaehyun.

The student had left you at the doors of the hall, saying that they needed to go check on something else. You opened the door.

In place of the harsh lights above, spotlights were installed up above. The dim light made it almost impossible to see. Suddenly, a huge spotlight on top of you lit up.

“What is-” 

“Oh, (Y/N). I don’t know how to say this, but let’s get it on,” Jaehyun said, scratching the back of his head.

“I really, really, like you. I don’t know, there’s this-” he paused for a while. “This warm, feeling in my heart whenever I see you. I feel really giddy and warm and just- just wonderful.”

“Oh Jaehyun,” you rushed up to him. Your small height was no match for his taller and stockier physique. He slinked his arms along your waist and pulled you closer.

“Be my girlfriend?” Jaehyun asked, bringing forth a single rose. 

And without you knowing it, your lips were on his silky ones. Jung Jaehyun’s scent was enveloping you all at once, loose strands of his hair touching your eyes, and it all felt divine.

[idratherstayslytherin]

Feelings We Can’t Let Go (A Drarry Fic) CHAPTER SIX

Summary: Harry needs to pass his NEWTs with a decent grade in Potions. The Ministry sends Harry to France so he can study for his exam with none other than Draco Malfoy, who has been blocked from Wizarding Society for almost a year now. It was supposed to be just a few months of tutoring, but it was so much more than that.

Read Chapter One HERE

Read Chapter Two HERE

Read Chapter Three HERE

Read Chapter Four HERE

Read Chapter Five HERE

Quick note: Posting re-edited chapter here and on ao3 again, because I want to improve my English and terrible writing. I added a bit of the text and re-written some parts that didn’t feel right or were ooc in my opinion, I also corrected grammar.

Do let me know what you think of it!

///////////

Soon Draco and Harry were spending most of their free time together, doing whatever they thought of, whether it was cooking, talking, going to museums or spots Harry had never time to visit, or Harry introducing Draco to new muggle things, and they enjoyed it thoroughly.

When Harry suggested that he and Draco made a bet on who was better at sports, both wizarding and muggle ones, Draco was more than happy to agree. They started with an easy one - bowling. The blond was disgusted when he saw that he had to wear rented shoes, so instead he just transfigured his own fancy boots to more suitable ones.  When Harry didn’t bother to do the same, Draco just flicked his wand and in a matter of seconds Harry had unusual, black shoes with silver decorative plant veins on. “I’m not risking opportunity of you getting some weird bacteria on your feet that could potentially transfer through your body and give you an infection, that could later on contaminate me. “

"Thinking about touching my body, are you? Harry teased laughing hard and at the same time making Draco's cheeks rose pink.

"Oh, please, who isn't." Draco drawled, walking over to their bowling station, acting as if Harry's comment did not affect him whatsoever. With two of his hands on his hips he examined the set up for the game. “Do tell me again, am I supposed to throw this ball towards those there?” he pointed to the pins.

“Yep, that’s pretty much it. Don’t get your hopes up though, you could never win the first time you’re playing this.” Harry started picking up balls, trying to determine which one fitted him best. He had been bowling few times with Ron, Dean and Neville the past year, and soon they got extremely addicted to it, and by the fifth time they got very competitive, almost like they were with quidditch (well, except from Neville, he was there just for fun). So Harry was pretty good at bowling and was sure he was going to win.

“Try me, Potter.” Draco moved closer to Harry and raised his eyebrow in challenge. “I’m a quick learner.”

In his first few attempts Draco missed every pin and Harry laughed at all of those occasions, remembering his opponent’s words “Malfoys never lose.” He eventually had to stop, because Draco was getting better and better, and in half an hour Harry was at losing by hundred and fifteen points. The urge to win was burning inside him, it was good kind of fire, the kind that he felt whenever he played a quidditch match against Slytherin, just without actual hatred, all he wanted to do was to win, to see blond’s face when he lost. This fire felt right, it was what he needed now. Something other than wedding planning to occupy his mind.

“So, how is everything going with your training?” They had taken a break to get something to drink and they were sitting on two sofas facing each other. Harry had his legs stretched towards Draco’s, he was drinking soda and studying blond’s hair that was falling to his forehead, and for some reason not sticking to it the way his own hair was. He wondered whether Draco was using some kind of potion for eliminating sweat? Was that why he didn’t have wet stamps under his arms either? He decided he would ask him about it later. He hated that he always sweated so badly during activities, that he looked like cat taken out of water, he needed whatever Draco was using. What did he use on his hair anyway? No one is born with that silvery blond hair. Do wizards use hair dye?

“- dozing off? Why do I even try?” Harry had to snap back from his thoughts and look at the boy in front of him, really look at him. Draco let out a sigh. “Oh finally got your attention. It’s like you’re in your own Wonderland and you’re beginning to get mad.” He ran one hand through his hair, combing it backwards, his other arm placed on the back of the sofa behind his head.

“What?” Harry sat up straight. Did he really just miss whatever the boy said to him, because he was thinking about Draco's hair?  No. He was trying to figure out how they were the way they were. Yes, that’s exactly what he did. Draco stood up, finished the drink he had in his hand and in a matter of seconds the empty glass vanished from his hand.

“I asked you how your training is going, but you kept staring in the distance like someone on crack.” Harry didn’t know if he should be offended or not, but he quickly resigned from doing so when Draco snorted softly and a little smile appeared on his face. Harry couldn’t help, but roll his eyes and smile back.

“My training has been going great, I can even cast fifteen different detecting charms now.”

“Show off.”

“It’s not like I’m the one who just vanished his glass with non-verbal magic." Harry enjoyed this back and forth between them. The eye contact they held made it even more enjoyable. He always had so much fun with Draco, thinking about it, he could actually say that he felt a bit like he actually was in his own Wonderland. No one here except Draco and couple of the employees knew who he was and they didn't really care, they knew him as a crazy guy who managed to spill coke all over himself when he was bringing drinks to his friends. Harry liked that. He felt relaxed wherever he wa with Draco, felt like he could be himself, be open about things that were troubling him and he would get an understanding look and if he was lucky a story from Draco that would make him feel better. Draco was not only his friend, but also his escape from reality and all the things that were going on in his life, escape from Ginny's serious looks when she was trying to get some information about his nightmares or sad face, out of him. He was Harry's escape from Hermione's worried looks and countless leaflets that advertised good mind healers, or books about mental health, or just her wanting to talk. He loved Hermione and he usually talked to her about a lot of things that were on his mind, she understood him best, she was with him through good and bad, but Harry found himself not wanting to share certain things with her. A, he was afraid of her getting even more protective of him, treating him as a hurt puppy or making him go to all of those mind healer visits; B, he just didn't feel like it. It was weird, they knew each other for so long and shared so many experiences, yet Harry thought that she wouldn't understand some things as good as Draco would. It was crazy, but everytime Harry shared a piece of him with Draco he got something back, not a pity, he got an honest opinion on the matter, maybe a pint, someone that understood some aspects of his logic and some of his fears better than anyone else, a distraction, very rarely a warm body to hold at night, and most importantly a piece of Draco back. He was so different in handling Harry's moods than anyone else, yet so perfect, as if it was his job. Draco was Harry's shield from everything bad surrounding him.

“Oh, please, muggles are blind, I used to be afraid of doing magic in front of them, but since I accidently used reparo next to a teenager in a bookshop and she told me I was a cool 'magician'-” Draco made quotation mark with the two of his hands in the air. “-I stopped caring. People take me as a muggle who can do tricks, can you believe? So no matter what I do, we’re safe.” He walked down to the bowling track and picked up one of the balls and held it close to his chest. “Are we still playing, or are you admitting to being defeated by the invincible Malfoy power?” If Harry didn’t know better he would have said that the look Draco gave him was flirtatious, but it couldn't have been, he was just challenging him.

“You wish.” Harry marched to the track, took one of the greenish balls and threw it at the pins, so hard that he hit all of them.

“That was a bit dramatic.” Draco teased.

"Tell me again that I'm dramatic, when you start one of your  "I'll die, Harry!" rants, while laying on the floor in your living room. It usually happens before your work on Wednesday, when you know you'll have to deal with Lindsay , Emily and Marcus by yourself." Draco growled at him.

“Anyways, it's your turn, Mr. 'I’m the best at every game, because of my gens'.” Harry leaned on the wall behind him and watched Draco, trying to make the boy pick up the challenge. Draco reacted immediately, which made Harry smile widely and he bit down on his lower lip. The blond hit eight pins, he would have hit nine, the ninth pin shook for a second, but stayed still in the end. The fear of losing to Harry wasn't really visible on Draco’s face, but his shoulders went stiff and the way he was biting the inside of his cheek gave his true feelings away.

They kept playing for another hour, doing the best they could to outdo each other, teasing each other, laughing and deciding on what punishment the loser will get after the game. Draco ended up winning by ten points, TEN STUPID POINTS. Harry was so close to winning, but then Draco hit all of the pins and LITERALLY pat himself on the back saying 'you did amazing Draco, I’m so proud of you' and Harry couldn't help doubling over with laughter despite the shock of losing.

Later on that night Harry had to wear fake rabbit ears and nose to the chinese restaurant they were heading to. He received many funny looks from the people on the streets and inside the restaurant. He felt his face heating up more as the minutes went by and every time he had to explain to the few kids that asked, that he in fact had an accident in his job and those items had stuck to his face and head. Draco tried to muffle his laughter with his hand, but failed when a little girl asked Harry if he was one of 'Humpty-Dumpty’s assistants', he held his hand on stomach and laughing hysterically to the point where his eyes filled with tears.

“Are you quite done yet?” Harry asked bluntly, glaring at Draco and putting a fork full of spicy noodles in his mouth.

“This is-” he covered his mouth again, his cheeks were filled out with air and his eyes were shut. Harry kept reaching to his plate for more food, which made all this situation bearable. " This is the best day of my life. I have to win more often.” Harry had rarely seen Draco so happy and vibrant, it was quite a beautiful view, he never smiled like that back at Hogwarts. Harry wanted to keep this expression on boy's face forever.

Harry shook his head in annoyance, but smiled. “I’m never letting you win again.” Draco took a bite of his noodles and watched Harry with intensity. “I’m going to make you regret ever winning and making up this horrendous punishment.”

“You mean, if you win. Don’t be so sure that you can win the broom race. I’ve been training since last year and I got even better than I was back at Hogwarts.”  The boy said when he chewed up his food.

“You’re being hopeful, Draco. I had time for some practice too.”

“Then we’ll see who is best on Friday.”

Next week Draco won the broom race indeed, but decided to only make Harry make them food while Draco read “Beauty and The Beast” out loud making comments every now and then on how 'impossible and illogical' those characters were and how Belle could have just made a rope out of her sheets, broke the window, stolen the horse and escaped home. Harry liked having Draco ranting about muggle books and being the smartass he was. It made him smile while he cooked pumpkin soup and baked brownies that Draco loved to death. It was almost like they lived together, almost like they were .... Harry stopped breathing for a moment in realisation of where his mind went, it wasn’t just it, Draco was standing behind him and looking over his shoulder.

“Did you add parsley and basil?” Harry inhaled deeply for no reason other that he wasn’t expecting Draco to show up so close to him.

“Of course I did. I’m a good cook, remember?” He turned his head towards the boy behind him. They looked at each other for a longer second, Draco’s eyes traveled down to Harry’s lips and he momentarily stepped back from Harry before Harry could react or think anything. He opened one of the cupboards and burrien his head there, shifting his hands through the spices. Harry looked down to pot embarrassed and started stirring the soup like his life depended on it. The situation was awkward, SO AWKWARD. Harry didn’t even know how to interpret it. Why did Draco look at his lips? And why did he get all weird about it? He was clearly embarrassed by the situation, but why? There were so many questions and no answer.

None of them said a word for a few seconds. Harry decided to break the silence. “Did you find what you were looking for to make the soup better?” Why was his voice so shaky, damn it?!

Draco turned back to Harry, but avoided looking directly into his eyes.

“Yes, you never remember to add smoked paprika, it makes food tastier.” He rushed to the pot and stood beside Harry, though not touching any part of his body to Harry’s which for some reason made Harry a bit upset. He got too used to having Draco being comfortable with having some physical contact when they hang out, now that it was missing he was worried if the bond between them just broke.

“You’re right” Harry said mindlessly. “I’ll be back in a minute.” Without waiting for response he rushed to the bathroom. When he got there, he uncorked the cold water and splashed some of it on his face. He did that several times. Why was he so hot?! Why did Draco make him feel like this? This was crazy. He was going mad. He didn’t have feelings for Draco. He just didn’t. Well, at least not like 'love' ones, he liked him, but he liked him as a FRIEND. Or did he? His heart wouldn’t stop racing. Oh God, he was going insane. Or maybe Draco was the one that was the problem. Maybe Draco just felt lonely and knowing that Harry had someone and Draco didn’t, he craved sexual… intimacy. No matter who was it. He might be frustrated. Right, yes, that has to be it. Draco is just lonely and wants what Harry has with Ginny. The tension fell from Harry’s shoulders and he felt his heartbeat slowing down.

“Draco.” Harry said as soon as he approached the kitchen were Draco stood over the boiling pots, his eyes fixed on the swirling liquid.

“Leave it, Potter.” he murmured not looking at Harry. He was sad. Harry was sure he was right, the other boy just needed a woman in his life.

“Listen to me and no, don’t say a word until I’m done.” he said when the blond turned his face towards him and opened his mouth. Draco's eyes went wide, and he set down the wooden spoon, with which he was stirring the soup. “I know what seems to be the problem there.”

“Pot-Harry, just let it go.” Draco’s voice was serious, but shaky.

“I told you not to interrupt me.” Harry marched towards Draco, but the boy moved away from him. “I know why you’re like that.” Harry tried to speak as softly as he could as to keep the blond in this room.

“You do?” Draco inhaled sharply.

“You’re just lonely and you crave attention of a woman. Before you say anything, I’ll help you find one.” Harry smiled to reassure his friend of his words.

“No, you don’t-”

“Of course I know, you’re jealous of my relationship with Ginny, I have something that you don’t and you simply want it. It’s a normal human reaction, I mean, to be jealous and sad."

‘No, I’m not, Harry-” Draco was frustrated, Harry could see it on his face. He picked the spoon up again, holding it in his hand so tight that his knuckles went white.

“It’s okay to feel that way.”

“HARRY!” Harry instantly looked Draco in the eyes. It was rare for the boy to raise his voice. “You’re wrong and I don’t need a woman, which you seemed to assume is a fact. I don’t know why you thought of that, but I simply got interested in your ... in your lips, because they are blue.” He sounded very convincing and not at all like he was just trying to finish this conversation. “Did you even notice that when you went to the toilet or are you that blind? And with your glasses on?” Harry touched his lips, pulled on the bottom lip with his fingers and looked down, sadly he couldn’t see anything, but the inside of his mouth. He rushed to the toilet. Fuck. His lips really were blue, how did he not see that before? Well that at least explained the awkward situation and why Draco did stare at his lips. They both might have just read each other incorrectly. Harry came back to the kitchen were Draco was sitting by the table with two bowls of steaming soup there waiting to be eaten.

“Do you believe me now?” Draco asked with no venom. Harry nodded and sat on the chair that had a bowl of soup in front of it.

“How did you not notice it earlier?”

“The bigger question is how you didn't notice." Draco snorted. "Anyway I might have been too busy reading the book. And, you stood with your back to me.” Draco responded quickly, almost like it was the answer to some test that he knew, because he learned it word to word.

“Why do I have blue lips?” Something still wasn’t making sense.

“It’s cold outside. We were out for more than an hour, your lips turn different colors in that weather." That made sense. “Can we eat now? I’m starving and I bet you are too.”  They ate their food and managed to switch the subject to new Quidditch teams that were being formed after the new year, then they talked about some other books Draco read in the past days, discussing some scenes Draco thought could be improved. It was nice, cozy, and Harry didn’t want the night to end. He wanted to stay and keep talking to Draco. He didn’t want to come home, not even the thought of Ginny waiting for him in bed made him feel other way around.

“Thank you, Harry. The soup and the brownies were really nice.” Draco said when they were cleaning up. Harry had to stop doing the dishes to look up at Draco. He had sincere smile on his face. “You are an amazing cook.”

“You helped me with the soup.” Harry blurted out, mostly, because he didn’t know what to say.

“Can’t you just take the compliment?”  

“Okay, thank you, you happy?

“Yes.” Draco grinned at him.

Harry was happy now that Draco and him started hanging out more, the blonde began to regain his strength; the colors were back on his no longer pale face; he didn't look like a skeleton anymore, bwell he still was underweight, but he was getting better and that's what mattered. Draco also smiled and laughed a lot more than he used to before, which warmed Harry's heart.

“Aren’t you supposed to be back home?” Draco said after a while and  took a bite of his half finished brownie then licked the fork clean. Harry knew it was a cue for him to go, but he didn’t want to go. He felt warmth in his stomach and a sweet taste of chocolate goodness on his lips. He wanted to stay for few more minutes, okay maybe hours. He had no responsibilities here and he could just be himself, he wasn’t surrounded by people constantly telling him what he should do and treating him like he was made out of glass. Draco treated him like a human, he called him out on his bullshit and talked to him about subjects he actually wanted to talk about. Time spent with Draco always made him feel … almost free, even when they went out, they rarely choose wizard spots to hang out, so Harry wasn't oppressed by people. He would have never thought that he would feel relaxed and happy in Draco Malfoy’s company, but now that he did, he couldn’t stop wanting to stay in this bubble for as long as he could. It was a weird feeling, yet somehow it started to become very natural to feel that way.

“Are you tired of me?” Harry wiped his hand on a dishcloth, walked to Draco and looked down at him.

“Yes, I actually need some space away from you and your tiring personality.” Draco flicked away a strand of hair from his eyes in diva kind of gesture.

“Alright, then. You will never see me again Mr. Malfoy.” Harry tried to sound serious, but he knew he couldn't keep a wide smile off his face. Draco’s eyes shined as the boy bit his bottom lip and gave Harry a questioning look.

“Oh, Mr. Potter, you won’t be missed, I assure you.” He stood up so that they were facing each other and having an eye battle before they both burst out laughing.

“I’m leaving.” Harry put one hand on Draco shoulder and was surprised the boy didn’t pull away. “But I’m going to beat you at Seeker's game very soon.”

“Sure you will.” The boy inhaled. Harry was about to turn back and apparate, but then Draco spoke again. “I meant what I said before, It was a really nice day, thank you.” The words made Harry want to touch the boy again, maybe even hug him. They’ve never hugged before, well, they did slept next to each other, spooning, but they weren't hugging constantly, like, it wasn't something they did.

But boy’s tone was so full of emotion, the words were sincere.

“You’re welcome. I had an amazing time as well, I always do with you.” He couldn’t help himself, he just said and waited for a response. Draco’s eyes burned into his, and Harry suddenly couldn’t breathe. He panicked and disapparated from Draco’s flat.

When he stepped into his house he was greeted by angry looks from Hermione and Ginny.

What just happened with Draco already made him want to go to bed and rethink everything, but THIS! Dealing with two scary women was even worse.

“Where were you?!” Ginny exploded walking up to him. “Harry, we were worried!” She searched for his eyes. He couldn’t look her straight in the eyes, he wasn’t sure if it was because he was stressed out, or because all he could see now were silver eyes filling up with joy; and he couldn’t risk getting lost in them now.

“Harry? Is everything alright? Did something happen?” A light hand laid on his arm, it wasn’t Ginny’s. It was warm and reassuring, Hermione was almost always able to calm him down and help him out, but sometimes she was going a bit too far with taking care of him.

Harry could handle himself. Yes, he still had times that he wasn’t feeling his best, times when all he wanted to do was to scream and cry, times when he thought that it would be much better if he decided to stay dead during the war, times when he had self doubt. But he was handling himself the best he could and his training going well was a proof of that. He was capable of casting more protecting and detecting spells, so he could protect himself and save people from dangerous curses. He still was haunted by nightmares, but weren’t they all? He wasn’t the only one who lost loved ones. He wasn’t the only one who was left broken. WHY DID THEY TREAT HIM LIKE SOMEHOW HE WAS MORE BROKEN?! WHY?!

“Met up with Neville and Seamus for drinks, forgot to tell you, I’m sorry, won’t happen again.” He murmured, still not looking at his fiancée and his friend. He had to lie, they didn’t know that he and Draco kept meeting up. He stopped talking about him to them. Harry thought that them hanging out irritated Ginny, he knew it irritated Ron, purely because he didn’t understand why Harry would do so, but Ginny… he wanted to make her feel like she was his priority. He also knew how his fiancée felt about the blond.

“Oh.” Ginny sighed. That’s when Harry gathered the courage to look at woman in front of him. “That’s fine then.” She was nervous and angry, Harry could see it, though her face softened and she gave him a slight smile. “Just tell me next time, okay?” Harry nodded slowly. The girl cupped his jaw with her hand and captured Harry’s lips in a gentle, long  kiss. He felt nothing, that’s why he didn’t respond to it. WHY DIDN’T HE FEEL SOMETHING?! He should have felt something. It was Ginny. GINNY - his soon to be wife, and he felt nothing when she kissed him. NOTHING. He needed to go to sleep. He was way too tired to think about it now. He excused himself, reassuring Hermione that he was fine and he’ll feel better tomorrow. He went to the bathroom, showered, put on his boxers and a night shirt and went to bed, not waiting for Ginny to come, he fell asleep. She wouldn't be happy about Harry having more fun with Draco than he did with her, she surely wouldn't

Days spent with Harry were one of the most joyous moments of Draco’s life, since they decided to call truce they have been meeting up almost everyday, they couldn’t get enough of each other. Draco smiled more, he was more optimistic than ever and more energetic than he had been in years. It was all because of the brunette’s presence and the easy way their new friendship was developing. Every meeting felt like stepping out of the persona that Draco was putting out everyday, he no longer wore his composed face, he laughed, allowed himself to show more emotions than he would with anyone else; his shoulders weightless, he could be his true self, without the need to put on a show, so people liked him. Not only that made Draco feel his best, but also the fact that the boy who was spending the time with him, knew him so well, knew his good and bad sides, yet still decided to treat Draco like a normal human being. They both were aware of their past, they just didn’t talk about it if there wasn’t a good reason to do so. They chose to live in the present, start a new life. Draco did apologize to Harry for his behaviour back at Hogwarts and during the war countless times, and Harry had to tell him 'We're fine now, Draco. I've forgiven you a long time ago.'.

Draco was grateful that Harry never brought up times before and during the war, they both knew what happened, they told each other almost everything when they were in France. Oh, France, if he could only go back in time and do something, anything, that would make a difference of how their last morning there looked like. But then again, what could have he done? It’s not like things would have been perfectly fine and not weird at all if Draco decided to open his eyes when Harry kissed his cheek. He would have probably been speechless, incapable of forming any sensible words, and Harry would probably have been embarrassed and confused, he would have probably said that meant nothing and that their whole friendship was a mistake. That would have hurt Draco way more than pretending it never happened. He wasn’t ready to hear the denial, even if he knew that some part of Harry regretted it; or maybe he just didn’t remember that kiss. Why would he? He is straight and has a fiance. Harry would never kiss Draco willingly, he must have been under some kind of weird influence.

The Golden Boy never left Draco’s mind, he was there when they were together, he was there when they were apart, when Draco was working, when he was making his food late at night, when he was falling asleep, when he was waking up. His thoughts wandered to Harry one way or another and Draco hated himself for that. Falling for your ex-rival turned friend, engaged, straight man wasn’t the best thing to do. Unfortunately the more time Draco spent with Harry the harder it was not to do so. He was brilliant, they shared the same interest and always became happier around each other, they knew each other’s body language, they knew how to act around each other, how to make the other feel better. There were moments that confused Draco, the moments when there would be this undeniable tension between them when they held eye contact for a little bit too long for it to feel casual.

*****

“Draco!” Harry screamed, apparating into Draco’s living room, dressed in a dark gray, puffy jacket.

“There is no need for screaming that loud.” Draco closed the distance between them.

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to scream if we weren’t running late.” Harry took one step forward. “...aaaand if I knew you were just here, being lazy.” Draco rolled his eyes at the comment, but snorted and smiled looking at his friend.

“Maybe I would be ready if you had invited me earlier than ten minutes ago.” Now they were both grinning.

“Okay, alright, mister 'I don’t do spontaneous meetings' ” the dark haired boy playfully pushed Draco’s shoulder with his hand.

“You know I don’t like spontaneous meetings.” He summoned his coat and the rest of his warm clothes. “I don’t have time to get ready, and besides...” Draco put black scarf around his neck. “-I could have been doing something.” He tried to look pretentious, but Harry just gave him a 'seriously?' kind of look. “Okay, I wasn’t busy, happy?”

“Yes, actually, if feels pretty good to be right.” A huge smile appeared on the other boy’s face. “Now, are you ready?” They were about to head off to the amusement park. Harry bought them the tickets without even asking Draco if he was busy, first. He gave the boy about ten minutes to respond and get ready. This was another thing about Harry, he liked being spontaneous and take Draco to all kinds of muggle places by surprise. He pushed Draco’s boundaries like no one ever did.  

He looked excited as he stood there in front of Draco, waiting for him with a smile on his face. Draco took a deep breath.

“I am, although I don’t know if I’m properly dressed. I don’t remember you mentioning any dress code.”

“There is none, you can go there looking your gorgeous self, just like that, and everybody will admire you.” It was a simple sentence, but it made Draco warm inside and he had to look away from the brunette to avoid the eye contact.

“Yeah, right. Let’s go then. I hope I won’t regret this.” Draco still focusing on the wall behind Harry held out his arm towards the boy.

“The worst thing that will happen is that you’ll have fun, which I know must be scary.” Harry sang theatrically.

“Ha, ha, very funny.” Draco now had to look at the other’s boy emerald green eyes. When Harry held his gaze, he took the boy’s hand  as quickly as he could to mask how affected by simple eye contact he was. “Are you taking us there or are we not running late, like you said earlier?” Harry clenched his hand in Draco’s  and they were gone.

When they stepped into the even area they were greeted with booming noise of the people either having fun or dying. Draco looked at all the attractions as they walked through the amusement park. There were really high tracks in the air with some vehicle on it with multiple seats, it went all the way up and then slipped down. All the people riding it were screaming. Draco swallowed heavily. He did just fine with heights, he played quidditch, he had to, but this machine was out of his control and that's what made it scary. There was a ride called 'ferris wheel', Harry explained to him how did it and every other machine worked, but refused to tell him how does it feel to be on them. Later on he admitted that he actually never been able to come here and it was his first time.

They went on a few rides, Harry had to challenge Draco to do so, because when he saw people getting sick on the rides he immediately wanted to apparate home. There was no way he was getting embarrassed in front of others, or especially Harry. The ride that went up, and then had sudden fall was so terrifying that Draco had to hold onto the the barriers, that kept him safe, very tightly. Though what took his breath away was not the fall alone, but a gentle hand on his own, squeezing it and giving Draco a mini heart attack. The gesture alone left Draco speechless for long time after they got off the ride.

After that they decided to take a bit of a break, just walking around, drinking soda and eating candy floss. As the late afternoon drew closer, the crowd was getting bigger, whole families with their kids back from school arriving. At one point Draco noticed that Harry was breathing very quickly and then taking really deep breaths and starting the whole process again. Draco took brunette’s hands in his, which took a lot of courage from him, and tried the best he could to calm Harry down. It must have been the crowd, Draco didn’t feel good himself, but he figured it would be bigger disaster if they both had panic attack rather than just Harry. The fear of being seen so vulnerable was stronger than his anxiety. He had to be the composed one.

“Harry, listen, you need to start breathing normally. I’m going to take you away from here, but you have to calm down first.” He tried his best to sound as soft and as quiet as he could. Harry didn’t respond, his breathing became even faster. His face turned towards Draco, but he wasn't really looking at him, and his whole body was shaking. Draco’s heart was going to escape his chest if he didn’t to something quickly. Harry might pass out, he knew that from his own experience. He dragged the boy to the nearest spot without any people.  “Harry, please.” he whispered, so that only Harry would hear him. “Breath with me, okay? Look at me and breath with me.” He didn’t want to do it, but he had to, he touched Harry’s cheek and then chin so that the boy would focus on him and him alone. When he got his attention Harry was trying to say something, but only gasps escaped his mouth. “Harry, you’re fine. I’m taking you away from here, okay? You need to calm down, so you want get injured or Merlin knows what.” He started to deeply breath in and then after a few seconds breath out. He counted the breaths in and out to show Harry how it worked and then proceed with looking into Harry's eyes, encouraging the boy to mirror the exercise. He held Harrys hands and mindlessly stated drawing circles with his thumb on one of them. He repeated the breathing technique until Harry started to breath with him in the same tempo. He apparated them to his flat as soon as Harry looked a bit better.

******

“Thank you.” Harry said later when they were sitting on the sofa and drinking chamomile tea.

“That's alright, you’d have done the same for me if I was in your place.” He observed Harry, looking up from his newspaper. The whole page was filled with 'cute', coupley pictures of Harry and Weasley-girl, predictions about their wedding, and letters from famous tailors who volunteered to sew the wedding dress and the suit. Most of the ideas were awful, they had absolutely no taste in fashion! Who would want to wear a fiery red dress with real lion’s hair on it? Even Weasleys had standards, besides, the happy couple weren’t going to pick any of those fashion designers projects, for all Draco knew. Harry told him Weasley’s mother is doing all the wedding work.

“Any new scandals about me?” The other boy’s voice made him look in his direction.

“No, just people wanting to kiss your ass.”

“Nothing new then.”

“No.”

They sat in silence until Harry blurted out. “They want me to become an auror.”

“Pardon?” Draco responded without a clue what Harry was saying.

“The ministry.” The boy specified. “They want me to become an auror, they said I’ll be much better there than in curse-breaking departament.” It was not unusual for Harry to talk a lot about his problems, but he never made himself center of attention, he always listened to Draco rant for hours about his patients and co-workers or something he didn't understand or was passionate about.

“Come again.”

“Robards himself came to me yesterday and offered a brief auror training, so I can become one as quickly as possible. They are still chasing some dark wizards and they need my help. I didn’t know what to say.” He sighed deeply and his hands fell into his lap heavily. “I just... I mean - what was I supposed to tell him? That I’m not really interested in that? That I don’t want to save people anymore, that I don’t want to risk my life like that? Maybe I would have done that before I saw how manipulative they were and how they could fuck me and people close to me, over. ” Draco put down his magazine and went up to sit beside Harry.

“Please tell me you didn’t accept the offer, because if you did, then I will be convinced that you are awful decision maker and total twat.”  

They’ve been there already. It was not the first time Harry mentioned that ministry wanted to make him a pawn in their game. They needed Harry’s fame and talent in their departament. Harry usually got what he wanted, he could be assertive and intimidating if he wanted to, and with Draco's help he knew how to word himself better to succeed. But now that once MInistry told him that if he declined their offer they would reconsider Hermione's position at the department of Law, Harry started to panic, he didn't want to be the reason his friend is losing her job. They could probably fire Ron as well and maybe even do something to Ginny. If the MInistry knew Harry was hanging out with Draco, they would probably redo his trial from years ago and plead him guilty, Harry knew they were capable of doings so, or even worse. He didn't want to risk anyone's life.

“I didn’t!” He looked like a hurt puppy with his frown like that. “But that’s not the point,” he rested his cup of tea on the table. He started rubbing his hands together.  “They said that if I won’t go with their plan then-”

“This is bollocks, Harry! I thought you would stand up for yourself, you of all people can do that much."

“And I did!” Harry got up from the couch, the furious and resigned expression on his face.

“Did you?” Draco decided to get up, he wasn’t going to speak to the boy from the couch.

“Of course I did! I told them that I’m not getting into this mess, I left the details and personal feelings out of it, but I said no.” He was pacing around the room now. Draco watched the boy pull on his green jumper in frustration. It was making Draco's head hurt.

“So what seems to be the problem?" He rubbed his temples. "And please stop circling the room."  Harry did. "Is the problem the guilt you feel? You think you should join them to save innocent lives?” Harry’s eyes said it all. Draco was right. “Haven’t you’ve done that enough in a war and before that?!” Now Draco was getting angry. The ministry has been pressuring Harry for years now, and he with his Gryffindor lion heart was blaming himself for doing what he wanted in life.

“They said that even if I pass the curse-braking training, they won’t give me the job in the fields.” His voice was shaking. It clearly meant a lot to him not to have a desk job, and Draco understood that, he wouldn’t have liked that either. The brunette ran his hands through his hair and pushed them back. His hair longer now, almost like back in fourth year, it fell behind his ear and a little more. He was utterly attractive even now, frustrated, with dark circles under his eyes, his glasses slightly lopsided to the right and his creased sweater. How could anyone resist this man? Draco knew he couldn’t, he was getting so close with Harry and it was becoming impossible not to think about them being together and domestic with each other. He wanted to have Harry for himself, to keep him close whenever things went bad at work, whenever he couldn't sleep, when he was being too serious and killing the happy mood, when he woke up, when he was happy or just making food. He wanted to spend all his life with Harry by his side. They thought each other so much, gave each other so much comfort and made each other happy. If Harry wasn't engaged and was interested in men, maybe then they would have had a chance of being in relationship, and a loving one.  Draco knew there was something between them, but either Harry wasn't telling him that because of his fiancée or because he truly didn't know he was attracted to man. The uncertainty was killing Draco.

His crush was getting worse, his heart was aching with fire that he never experienced. If he could he would choose to feel nothing at all, nothing, so he could never get hurt by his own emotions.

“You’ve to get out of there. What other choice do you see? I know it’s totally your decision and it only depends on you if you want to listen to my advice and your own heart and get this over with. I hate seeing you like this, all it does is make you grumpy and less fun to be around especially when you come here and throw hexes at my wall. It makes me feel depressed, and I don’t need more depressing stuff in my life." Draco felt a little guilty about making it sound like it was about him, but he hoped it would have some effect on the other boy as Harry always seemed concerned about his well-being.

“I don’t know what am I going to do.” Harry murmured sitting back down and taking his cup in his hands. Draco used non verbal spell to quickly heat up Harry’s tea without the boy noticing. He was too stressed out to care what Draco was doing. A little smile appeared on his face when the warm liquid touched his lips and Draco smiled at that sight.

They spent the rest of the night reading books on separate couches.

“What’s wrong?” Ginny’s concerned voice got Harry out of thinking about how miserable (and drunk) he felt, how awful his training was and how all he wanted to do was to cry, and maybe curl up on Draco's sofa with more alcohol, listening to Draco's soft voice reading yet another muggle book and leaving funny comments from time to time. Sadly, he was sitting in his kitchen with a bottle of firewhiskey, trying to drink his sadness away.

“Nothing." He muttered, more to the bottle than to his fiance’s face. He couldn’t bring himself to care. He didn’t feel like talking to Ginny about all of this. He couldn’t form sentences, his tongue was twisting and his head was pulsing. Apart from that, he knew she wouldn’t understand him and would try to make him feel better by telling him what she thought he wanted to hear, not what he needed to hear.

“Why are you so cold towards me these days?” She raised her voice, hitting a more accusing tone. "Yesterday you didn't even come to bed, you fell asleep on the couch. And last Friday you cancelled our dinner date. You never want to talk about the wedding planning, you seem like you don't even want it to happen anymore. All I got from you this morning was 'gotta go.', a kiss on the head and not even a 'thank you' for making you breakfast. On top of it all, you never share your feelings with me, and I'm here to help you, Harry." Harry looked up at her. He did feel guilty about all the things she mentioned, but at the same time he thought she was being a bit too harsh on him.

Ginny's lip trembled, but she stayed untouched by the whole situation. “Is it because of Malfoy? I know you're seeing him again, I'm nor blind or stupid. What did he do to you? I bet he’s telling you to break things off with me, he wants you all to himself.” Harry gasped, he was drunk, but not too drunk not to understand what she was saying. Ginny’s was furious, though her expression didn’t show that, it was only her eyes and eyebrows that told Harry that she in fact was hurt and angry.

“What?!” Harry opened his eyes wide in shook. He swallowed thickly. “I-Are.... We- What?!” Harry couldn’t form any kind of response. “Of course not!” His breathing began to fasten. Ginny gave him an odd look that he couldn’t recognize. She threw a piece of paper on the table, so that Harry could see the content of it. He took a look at it immediately. He inhaled deeply again. There, in front of him was a moving photo of Draco who was pulling Harry closer to himself with an amused smile on his face, both of them giggled. The blush on both of their cheeks clearly visible as they looked away from each other.

It was the day they had an ice skating competition. Harry suddenly didn’t know how to breath. He didn’t know they were being watched back then. He didn’t think the reporters were following him even to muggle parts of London. He remembered that day, it was about two weeks ago, him and Draco had some of the new ice cream flavour from their favourite spot, they went home to get warm, cooked vegetarian lasagna, talked about new Quidditch teams, drank some mulled wine, shared their stories from first year at Hogwarts and laughed a lot. They ended up falling asleep by the fire, away from each other, but after Draco woke up screaming for his life after a terrible nightmare that involved fire, Harry took him into his arms, put out the fire and led Draco to his room where they fell asleep holding onto each other, which no longer was weird. This day made Harry feel so many emotions at once, but also was one of his favorite days ever.  

Harry felt anger building up in him. He wanted to cry, he wanted to scream. His meeting with the blonde boy was supposed to be only his and Draco’s moment. No one else’s. Harry hated being famous. He hated it with passion, especially today. “Draco has done nothing wrong!” He screamed, he didn’t intend to. Ginny had no right to accuse Draco of such things, Harry told her a million times about Draco becoming one of his best friends and how much he changed. “And I’m allowed not to tell you things I don’t want to share with you.”

Judging by Ginny’s expression she didn’t see that coming. Harry stood up, ready to apparate the fuck away from here, he wanted to be alone, somewhere where he didn’t have  to deal with the red haired woman glaring at him.

“We’re getting married for Merlin's sake!” Ginny shouted, her eyes beginning to water. “We’re getting married and you don’t trust me!” She stood up to. Now they were both glaring at each other, the kitchen table serving as a safe space between them. "I thought everything was going well, I thought you loved me. Everything was like a fairy tale, until you suddenly became almost repellent by me."

“That’s not true! You just don’t like Draco and you’re making things up!” Harry took few steps back and brought the whiskey bottle to his mouth to take another gulp of it.  "And 'a fairy tale', Ginny? My life is not a fairy tale and it will never be one! If you expected to marry a prince harming or a hero, then you choose the wrong guy." He felt his throat burning and another warm sensation going down his whole body as he took another shot of the alcohol in hi hand. He began to have trouble standing straight. His legs felt like jelly.

“I have my reasons to hate Malfoy, and you of all people should understand it!” Ginny snapped. “I didn't expect my life to be a bloody fairy tale, Harry, it's an expression! I meant that we were doing so well, we were so in love... well, I was, am still.” With a flick of her wand Ginny managed to snap the bottle from Harry’s hands. Her eyes filled with tears.

“What the fuc-” Harry started, but he didn’t get the chance to finish because Ginny continued to shout at him.

“You spend all of your free time with him! Don't you? Every time you said you were meeting up with Seamus, Neville or Dean, or telling me that your training will be finishing late at night; you were with him." She was smart, Harry had to give her that. "Maybe you should marry him instead of me! If he’s so precious to you, more trustworthy than I, the woman you decided to propose to, am, then go ahead!” She threw the whiskey bottle out of the window, hearing it crash on the concrete of the yard. Now that Ginny found out about him and Draco and was incredibly rude about it, he couldn't take it anymore.

Harry apparated to one place he wanted to be in, Draco’s flat. He felt dizzy as he landed, full body on the floor of Draco’s living room. His head felt heavier and heavier at every attempt he tried to stand up.

“H-Harry!” Draco’s terrified voice reached Harry’s ears. "You bloody idiot, what have you done?" He couldn’t understand any word after that, he heard beeping in his ears and the loud thumping of his heart. Harry felt himself being lifted up sat somewhere soft. His eyes remained closed, the room was far too bright for his liking. Surprisingly enough the lights in the room darkened a bit, that made Harry open his eyes. He saw a fuzzy image of Draco on his knees. Harry blinked a few times to see the boy clearer. His face was a mixture of worry and concentration. He was holding one of Harry’s arms and HOLY SHIT! HIS WHOLE ARM WAS DRIPPING IN BLOOD. HOW HAD HE NOT FELT THAT?! Draco had his wand right above the cuts, he was murmuring some spells that Harry did not recognize. The blood was vanished away leaving Harry’s arm bare with only few visible cuts that were beginning to close and turning a lighter colour. They almost looked like healing burns. Harry’s headache was getting worse which resulted in him shutting his eyes again and letting out a growl.

“Drink that.” Draco commanded, putting a small, cold object in Harry’s hand as soon as he finished healing his wounds and noticed that the boy was awake. Harry closed his hand around it. It was some sort of glass, a bottle maybe. “Harry.” A soft voice reached his ears and a light hand landed on his back. “You’ll feel way better, just drink it.” There was something comforting in the other boy’s touch, something that made Harry trust the boy with the thing he gave him. Harry opened his eyes and took a look at Draco’s face that was in front of him. They stayed silent. Harry looked away and to the object in his hand. It was a phial with some potion. He looked back at the boy. Draco looked into his eyes and gave Harry a little nod. Harry uncorked the bottle, put it to his lips and drank it. His body responded to it immediately. His head stopped hurting, his body didn’t feel like he was going to fall over anymore, his muscles seemed to have restored their power. “Better?” Draco took his hand from his back, and Harry already missed it being there.

“Yeah.” Harry whispered. Draco didn’t take his gaze away from Harry for even a second. He looked... sad, but relieved. His shoulders fell and he rolled down the sleeves of his dark blue nightgown.

“What happened?” Draco’s voice haven’t lost the softness that it had since Harry apparated here. Harry wasn’t sure he wanted to talk about it. Especially with Draco. He just wanted to stay around the boy for now. “If you don’t want to talk then…-”

“NO! I-I just...I don’t know.” Harry let his hands fall between his legs. He looked around the room, and realized it wasn’t the room he remember ever seeing in Draco’s flat. It had a wooden desk and a chair, few art pieces on the gray wall that gave the room a bit of life, a lot of cupboards and a desk with the cauldron on it. Harry was sitting on the comfortable sofa in the corner of said room and Draco was right in front of him, still crouching on his knees.

“It’s fine. The guest room is on the - well you know where it is." A little sigh escaped blonde's mouth as he stood up. “Just tell me if you need anything.” He looked almost disappointed at the fact that Harry wasn’t going to share with him his night story, share with him why he was such a mess. “Let me know, really.” Draco gave him a small smile. Harry felt his chest tightening. Draco looked so sad, it pained Harry to see him like that. He missed the smile on Draco’s face, the real one. Harry reached out for the blonde’s wrist and pulled him towards himself. Shock appeared on Draco’s face. He didn’t say anything, just stared at Harry with puzzled look.

“Tell me what happened.” Harry lowered his voice. He concluded that if Draco was gloomy then he must have a good reason for it. He was so happy just last week when they went out to ice skate.

“Go to sleep Harry, I’m sure you had way more terrible day than I did.”

“But...” Harry squeezed Draco’s hand.

“Go to sleep Harry.” It sounded more like a command now. Draco tried to escape Harry’s clasp, but Harry wasn’t planning on letting go any time soon. He couldn’t go to sleep knowing that something awful happened to Draco. He would not be able to sleep well knowing that Draco did everything to help him and Harry didn’t even try to return the favour.

“Draco...” Harry stood up, he felt like maybe he would be taken more seriously like that. “I can see you are hurting.” Draco’s face remained unchanged.

“It’s nothing. You’re more sensitive now, it’s one of the effects of the potion.” He took his hand away from Harry’s and stepped back. “I’m going back to my bedroom. if you need water or tea you know where to find them. You know where most of the stuff is.” He turned back to leave. Harry sighed, but let him exit the room, doing the same himself not soon after, walking over to the guest room getting under the warm covers.

But however he tried, Harry couldn’t sleep. He moved around in his bed trying to find a better position, but none seemed to put him to sleep. He was afraid to close his eyes, he didn’t want to have any nightmares. He wasn’t keen of questioning his existence and life choices now. In an addition to this whole mess that was Harry’s life, his brain played tricks on him, he didn’t know which situations in his life were real and which were the creation of his mind. He was getting more confused and frustrated with his emotions towards Draco and men in general.

In this past week he tried to look at men, different men, on the streets, in the ministry and see if any of them made him feel something, if he could actually ever be attracted to men physically. He found himself staring at skinny brown haired man that worked in the coffee shop in the city center. At first he just thought the man was attractive, but then he took off his apron and Harry could see well defined muscles tagging to the man’s shirt, his lean, but strong arms, and oh god, his smile was breathtaking. Next time he caught himself staring at men was at the park. It was rather tall blonde man, who was average weight, and had the bluest eyes Harry has ever seen, they were like a stormy sea, Harry could get lost in them. He didn’t catch what the man was saying to him, because he was checking him out, CHECKING OUT A MAN! AND BLOODY HELL, HE WAS ATTRACTIVE. The whole situation was awkward, the man was asking for directions to the well known gay bar nearby, and Harry felt his cheeks heating up even more when he told him which way to go after getting himself together, and as he left, the man winked at him and flashed Harry a smile. These feelings were confusing and new and he didn’t know what to do with this knowledge. All he was sure of was that he did still love Ginny, he thought Draco was very fit and Harry wanted to spend all his time with him, he also knew that some men made him blush. That was not a lot of information, how could he make sense of it?  He didn't have the energy to think about it, but the curiosity was eating him alive. If he found the solution to one of his problems he could at least stop stressing about one of them.

Finally after laying awake for ages thinking about this, he fell asleep.

*******

Harry woke up screaming. The images of Remus falling into a hole in the ground to be eaten by killer wolves still flashed in his head. The little Teddy trying to take hold of his dark headed mom and their hands slipping from each other. Tonks falling through the hole after Remus. He couldn't stop tears dripping on his cheeks and saying "I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" like a mantra, under his breath.  He shut his eyes and covered his face with the blanket. Time seemed to stop, or it might have gone on for too long, Harry didn't know. All he felt was the sadness and anger within him building up to the extreme. He felt like his chest was prodded by thousands of invisible needles and his whole body felt heavy, like he was weighed down by stones. He couldn't move. He only snapped out of his grief when he felt strong arms around him, one of them was on his waist and the other was in his hair, caressing the back of his head smoothly. It felt nice, warm. Harry gave in to the comfort he was given. He looked up from his covers, and it was Draco. Draco was holding him in his arms. Harry once would have never have thought that someday he would sleep in Malfoy's flat and would be comforted by DRACO. FREAKING. MALFOY. It was so unexpected of the blonde to be even more sensitive than other times. Sure, they fell asleep holding onto each other countless times by now, but it wasn't always planned.

He started to calm his breathing down and let himself grab one of Draco's arms and squeeze it. The boy responded momentarily. He looked into Harry's eyes, his eyes were red and full of tears. Harry noted just now how warm the other boy's body was and how much he was shaking.

"Dr-D-Draco." He was shaking himself.

"No." Draco cried quietly. It was so uncommon for Draco to act like this, to be this vulnerable. Well, not counting sixth year in the bathroom and few times in France. Harry looked Draco down. The boy was wearing burgundy, silk nightgown and probably nothing underneath, because part of his chest was left visible, even though the lights were out and Harry couldn't see much which was probably for the best, because it was making him feel a bit uneasy. Part of him desperately wanted to comfort the boy and the other couldn't stop imagining what his body looked like underneath the thin clothing. Was it as pale as the rest of his body? Was it as skinny and muscled as Harry thought it to be? Would the sight of it make him want the other boy as it happened with a girl's body? Harry hated himself for thinking about it now, when he was supposed to act like a decent human being. But he couldn't help his curiosity. “Don’t wanna talk.” The blond boy mumbled, burying his face in a crook of Harry’s neck. He suddenly felt warmth and weird explosive feeling in his stomach. He wanted to hold Draco and never let him go, wanted to give him protection and assure him that he’ll make all the bad things disappear. He wanted to do more than just sit there and be useless.

“Draco, please, talk to me.” Harry whispered in Draco’s ear. He tried to be brave and push his own problems away, but he was still shaken and under the influence of his dream and the undying guilt. The man in his arms made it harder to think. No one ever made him feel like Draco did. He made him the angriest, the saddest and the happiest man on the planet at the same time, and Harry hated it.

“Just let me stay with you.” Harry felt hot breath on his neck which sent shivers down through his whole body. He shifted in his place. His body felt no longer like a stone. Without thinking much he wrapped his arms around Draco and shifted so they could both lie down. He had never experienced such closure with anyone, not even Ginny, and they were almost married, they had sex and kissed and everything! Yet, Draco made Harry feel more than he could express with simple words. He felt understood and less alone in this whole mess. He snuggled up to Draco, which didn’t feel casual or a good idea at all, but something in him told him that he should do so, so he did. Acting on impulse was one of his specialities.

They both were breathing heavily, holding onto each other, not even considering letting go. Harry didn’t even realize when he fell asleep with Draco’s wet of tears face on his chest and the scent of the boy's skin in his nostrils which he could only describe as 'manly with a fruity hint' and Harry decided it suited the blond boy a lot, that along with the sensation of almost their whole bodies touching were the best ways of falling asleep.

[imdifferentshadesofpurple]

the Bad (?) Decision.

Date #6 of the Bad First Date Chronicles Pairing: Im Jaebum x Reader

You’ve done your best in life to make the best decisions possible.

You were the kind of person that thought of every scenario and every consequence, good and bad, before coming to a conclusion. 

But you didn’t think when it came to Im Jaebum.

You felt destroyed after that fateful phone call, angry at anything and everything. 

Which prompts you to drag Youngjae to a bar the following weekend, dressed to impress and feeling hollow inside.

The best combination, I’m sure you can agree. 

“Maybe not so many beers?” The look on Youngjae’s face is that of complete worry as he twists the bottle from your hand, placing the still cold drink on the table. You frown, “Choi Youngjae, never remove a drink from a lady’s hand. Now give it.” 

You make grabby hands for it but he moves the beer, eyeing you with an air of exasperation. “You look like you’ve been dumped.”

You roll your eyes, “I have. Or should we go over the past few months again? The too tall child that couldn’t even drink yet? The overly fabulous super model that needs attention 24/7? The sweet sunshine boy that’s a better friend than boyfriend? Or should we discuss Park Jinyoung? My shot at happiness that I went and screwed up somehow? Or we can go back to just awhile ago when the Jackson Wang said we shouldn’t see each other again? And now, now my supposed best friend that’s been ignoring me all this time has a girlfriend and I feel like my heart has been ripped out and crushed by every power tool in existence. Fuck Youngjae-yah, fuck. What does the universe have against me? Am I not a decent person, decent enough? Should I just give up, is this a sign?”

He can’t help but chuckle, “If it’s a sign, you’re not seeing it.”

You frown couldn’t possible deepen but it does. “Huh?”

“Look Y/N. We agreed a long time ago that this, this between us, is better the way it is now. You’re like...an amazing friend. Probably my best one. And I know that title, for you, belongs to Mark. But I just had to say it. Anyway, that’s besides the point. A sign. You’ve gone through these dates, they’ve ended up being complete busts, and now you feel empty and angry and very, very sad. Right?”

“...right. Right? Right.”

He can tell you’re not getting it. “You’re sad. You’re angry. You’ve been feeling this way since that phone call. Don’t you think that means something?”

You sigh and flail a little in your seat. “You know I’ve had too many drinks! I don’t have the brain capacity for this right now!”

“...you’re a pediatric surgeon.” “...right now I’m just a broken drunk girl.”

With a groan, he grips your shoulders. “You’re in love with Mark.”

Oh. Wait.

“I’m sorry, what?” You stare at him, eyes almost popping out of your head.

Youngjae shakes his head, “All this time, you don’t see exactly what’s right there. Right there. As in Mark. I’ve never met the guy but come on! You told me how defensive he got when I had asked you out! With all the stories you told me and now this whole girlfriend situation? You’re in love with your best friend, geez you’re like a generic romantic comedy.”

You’re silent for a moment - before you start to laugh.

“I am not, not, in love with Mark. That’s complete shit Youngjae-yah, no offense. I’ve known him my entire life! He’s Mark! It’s an insane idea and I won’t entertain it any longer.” You grab your beer before he can move it away, pressing a wet kiss to his cheek. “Now go on and go home to your girlfriend turned ex-girlfriend turned back into girlfriend. You told me she had exams today so treat her to dinner or something. I’ll be fine.”

He tries to argue, but you stop him with a hand to his mouth. 

“Nope! Nada! I don’t want to hear it, now go! Shoo!”

He’s groaning as you forcefully get his jacket on, mothering him (as best as you can drunk tipsy) and simultaneously shove him towards the doors. He looks extremely hesitatnt to leave you but you promise a million times to call if you needed something.

When he’s finally gone, you think about what he said, what he thinks you feel.

It’s ridiculous, preposterous, completely insane. You’re not in love with Mark Tuan. Absolutely, undeniably, not in love.

And you’re going to prove it.

Im Jaebum’s leather jacket was warm, material heavy over your shoulders as he leaned forward to whisper something in your ear. 

Your mind is hazy, most of it because of the alcohol, but he’s handsome (aka incredibly sexy) and you don’t mind the feeling running through your veins. 

You try not to think about Youngjae’s words as you press yourself against the line of Jaebum’s body, smiling as his lips graze your cheek. 

You know it’s a bad idea, you usually make them when you drink too much, but he’s saying nice things and making you feel good and you don’t want it to stop.

You don’t want to think about Mark, think about whatever feelings you (maybe) don’t have. 

But Jaebum is kind, underneath the all black and piercing eyes. He doesn’t try to make unnecessary moves on you, hands never drifting too far south, never says anything inappropriate that makes you uncomfortable. He watches out for you, talks with you, takes his time because he understands you’re not in the clearest of mindsets.

And when he drives you home, he helps you to your room, leaving your clothes on instead of ripping them off and trying to make the night more interesting. 

You don’t remember much of what he’s said, his voice muffled like you’re underwater.

And you drift to sleep that way, suddenly thinking about red hair instead of two moles under the eye.

You wake up with a desperate need for water.

It’s a little past four in the morning when you find your way to the kitchen in the dark, hands out in front of you as your eyes stay slightly closed.

You gulp down two glasses, sighing in relief as the liquid cools your body from the inside. You’re about to head back to bed when a light from the living room causes you to head there instead, confusion all over your face when you pick up a phone that isn’t yours.

You feel more awake when you see a text on the screen from Youngjae.

Thanks for helping Jaebum hyung, I didn’t want to leave her at the bar but she kept pushing me out. And I’m sorry you have to spend the night on the couch lol. I promise I’ll get you breakfast in the morning. Call me when you wake up.

Your confusion deepens as you read the text over again. 

When someone shifts next to you, you turn quickly to see Jaebum sleeping on your couch, arm thrown over his face as his feet shuffle under one of your blankets. His leather jacket, the one that had kept you warm earlier that night, was lying across the arm of the couch by his head.

With your ears ringing and a sort of buzzing prickling all over your skin, you kneel in front of him and shake gently at his shoulder.

“Jaebum-ssi...wake up...”

He groans, heading turning away from your voice, and you shake again. With a deep inhale, he slowly wakes up and faces you, eyes opening and recognition flashing across them.

“...I take it you’re wondering why Youngjae-yah is texting me,” he says, stretching a bit, the blanket slipping further down his body.

You nod, a bit in a daze, “Uh, yeah. That’s one of the million question running through my pounding head. Should I...wait until later?”

He shakes his head, pulling himself up into a sitting position, patting the space he was once occupying. You rise from the floor and sit, folding your legs underneath you. He spreads the blanket further to cover you as well and leans back to get comfortable once more.

“Youngjae is a friend of mine, we’re both in the same music classes at school. He saw me at the bar when you both arrived and when you started drinking a little too much, he had texted and asked me to keep an eye out for you once you shoved him out the door.”

“...he knew I would do that?”

He smiles a little, “He did. He insists he knows you quite well. He knew that the moment he suggested you were in love with your best friend, you’d deflect it and insist he went home to his girlfriend. He didn’t want to just leave you on your own so I agreed to take care of you.”

Your cheeks turn pink, “But you were flirting with me.”

He shrugs, “You’re pretty, which I’m sure you know. There’s no harm in flirting, at least in my opinion. And I couldn’t keep an eye on you if you lost interest and wandered to some other guy. I had to make sure to keep you occupied so I could eventually take you back here.”

“...I’m sorry. My couch isn’t comfortable.”

He chuckles, “I disagree. Youngjae’s is worse. Yours feel like clouds so don’t worry. But if it’s all the same to you, I’m hoping I can stay until the sun’s up. I have work later today and could use the sleep.”

You agree, there’s no way you’d kick him out now, and he grins in thanks. You get up so he can lie back down, blanket pulled up to his chin like a child. You’re on you’re way back to your room when he calls out again.

“I don’t know Mark, I barely know you except what Youngjae has mentioned. But maybe he’s got a point. You seemed more like you were drinking to forget rather than drinking for a good time.”

You don’t say anything, you actually feel a little dizzy, and head back to your room to climb under your covers. You send a quick ‘thank you’ text to the sunshine child (what would you do without him, really) before you’re on your back, staring up at the ceiling.

“You’re in love with Mark.”

You groan, covering your face, Youngjae’s voice clear as day in your head. 

There’s no way you were in love with Mark, he was your best friend and you weren’t in a cheesy romantic film. 

But you think back to the past few months without him here, the emptiness you had felt that lead to confusion and then to anger and then to heartbreak. You had been attached at the hip since you were both infants and couldn’t yet walk. He had seen all the ugly sides of you and still managed to not care, always there for you no matter what. 

And then you started dating, if dating was even the right word.

You had dated before, had a boyfriend or two that Mark never seemed to like.

But it was that first date with Yugyeom, when you really decided to try and keep an open mind, that he started to act odd - act jealous. 

Then, he disappeared. No calls, no texts. It was like he started a whole new life without you in Taiwan. 

And the girl. The girlfriend he suddenly had.

Something like that was worth being told. You told him everything! Told him about your dates and how they didn’t turn out the way you had hoped, ending the night early with him as you ate food and played whatever on the tv. 

But him getting a girlfriend, he couldn’t bother.

You roll around, heart achy and thoughts jumbled.

If you were in love with him (which okay, you were kind of starting to think you maybe sort of were), what did that mean? He wasn’t here, he had left. You haven’t spoken in weeks so how were you supposed to figure anything out if he wasn’t there to help you? 

How was anything supposed to work if you weren’t trying to make it work together?

Like Jaebum, you pull the covers up and drown out your frustrated screams with a pillow, only falling asleep an hour later with things still not making any sense. 

Jaebum is gone when you wake up, eyes heavy like sand as you pull yourself up out of bed. 

He left a simple note on your dresser (thanks for the couch and the chance to get some sleep after lifting a full grown woman back into her apartment lol) that you tuck away with a scoff and a smile before getting rid of last night with a shower. 

It’s when you’re dressed, hair dry and stomach empty, that you hear it.

The faint jingle of keys and a door being opened. The sound of suitcases being rolled against the hardwood floor of your entryway.

You’re frozen in your room, paralyzed because you know who that is.

You know, right then, everything becoming clearer than they ever were. And you’re suddenly terrified.

You slowly open the door, sock clad fleeting sliding against the floor as you make your way down the hall. Everything that’s happened is like a weight on your chest and you can hear Youngjae’s voice again.

“You’re in love with Mark.”

...yes, I think I am.

a/n: one left! tomorrow, we find out just where the fuck mark tuan has been lol.

[thenarator]

The Genius from Uzushio

so @kineticallyanywhere and i have been tossing around ideas for a naruto au. the basic premise is “what if uzushio was never destroyed?” and from there it kinda evolved into speculation about regional differences, academy curricula and what a typical member of the uzumaki clan would look like. this is a little drabble of a scene that was gnawing at my brain, so i just had to get it out and share it with you guys!

Ever since Hinata had been assigned to Team Seven, she’d felt like a third wheel.

Sasuke was a genius, top of their class at the academy and hailed as one of the most talented of their generation. Not as talented as his brother, but still destined to make Konoha proud. Sakura was clever, easily mastering new techniques thanks to her near perfect chakra control and always earning the approval of Kakashi-sensei. She still spent a fair amount of time fawning over Sasuke, but despite his outward disdain Hinata could see how he preened under the attention. He took it as his due, as a child of the Uchiha clan, still one of the village’s most prominent despite the rumors that they had tried to take over the village and been stopped by the Fourth Hokage some years ago.

Hinata was not a genius, and though she was from a prominent clan she was not someone they were particularly proud to claim as one of their number. She was not very clever at mastering new techniques, and she did not have perfect chakra control. As her two teammates basked in Kakashi-sensei’s praise and occupied themselves with admiring and being admired, Hinata could not seem to keep up or engage with them. Most of the time she felt like she was just one teammate too many.

It had surprised her more than anything when Kakashi-sensei announced that they would all be participating in the upcoming chuunin exams. It made sense for Sasuke and Sakura, who were practically a squad unto themselves, but for him to nominate Hinata as well seemed ridiculous. She was not ready for this, she knew she was not ready for this, but her sensei didn’t seem to care. Either he had more faith in her than she did in herself, or he was too interested in having two out of three of his students pass that he wasn’t worried about the third. Hinata was willing to bet it was the latter.

“Are you honestly thinking of going along with this?” Neji had asked her when he’d found out.

“Kakashi-sensei seems to think I’m ready,” Hinata told him, as firmly as she could, trying to believe it even as she said it.

“There will be ninja from other villages there,” Neji said, “ninja far more ruthless than you. Uzushio is sending a squad this year; rumor has it that one of them is a genius so gifted he’s hailed as the pride and joy of their village.”

Hinata had barely managed to contain her quaking at that piece of news. Uzushio was a small village, but they were a close ally of Konoha. Still, their ninja had a reputation for being fearsome, with the ability to survive nearly any attack thrown at them and live to unnatural ages. They didn’t send a squad every year, but when they were sent to participate in the chuunin exams they never failed to impress.

“Have you . . . heard anything about the other examinees?” Hinata asked Sakura softly as the squad walked toward training the day before the exams were due to begin.

“I hear a genius of the Hyuuga clan will be participating,” Sasuke interrupted before Sakura could speak. “Your cousin, right Hinata?”

“Yes,” Hinata nodded, “but I meant genin from . . . other villages.”

“I know a squad from Uzushio is coming,” Sakura said, confirming Hinata’s worst fears. “They’re supposed to have a genius with them too. A lot of talent on display this year, huh Sasuke?”

Sasuke made an unimpressed noise in his throat. “Itachi warned me about him, but I’m not worried. He might be from an allied village, but I’ll take him apart if he gets in my way.”

Hinata wished she could be so confident. There were clans in Uzushio, clans that produced ninja with such massive chakra reserves that ran so strong and so thick in their chakra networks gentle fist techniques had almost no effect on them. The Hyuuga clan held a wary respect for Uzushio ninja. She only hoped she would not have to fight that particular genius.

Sakura turned and began to walk backwards so she could look Sasuke in the eye. “I know it won’t be a problem for you Sasuke,” she said, hearts in her eyes. “I just know that with you on our team everything will be-”

She stopped, interrupted in both speech and step. Hinata looked up, over Sakura’s head, to see a boy much taller than her with his back to them. He and Sakura turned at the same time, until they were facing one another. The boy was dressed head to toe in black, with a large object wrapped in bandages slung over his shoulder. He wore purple face paint, and a headband that proclaimed he was from Suna. He did not look at all pleased at being bumped into.

“Sorry,” Sakura began, holding up both hands and she stepped backwards toward her squadmates. “So sorry, I-”

“Where do you think you’re going?” asked the boy. His hand shot out and gripped the front of Sakura’s shirt, halting her retreat.

“I-” Sakura stuttered, nearly jerked off her feet by the tug of the boy’s hand, “that is, I-”

“What do you say Temari?” asked the boy, a cruel smile on his face, and Hinata noticed a girl with four blonde pigtails behind him. “We’ve got a little time before he gets here. Let’s mess with these punks.”

As Sasuke advanced on the boy in black, clearly intent on a fight, Hinata began to back away. Fear gripped her, making it hard to breathe, making the edges of her vision blurry and the world tilt strangely on its axis. She had been so frightened of getting into a fight during the exams she’d never spared a thought to what might happen outside the exam. There were no proctors here to regulate, to break up the fight if it got too ugly. There was no one to intervene, no one to-

Hinata was knocked out of her thoughts as her back collided with something solid. She flailed, letting out a small yelp, but before she could fall to the ground two strong hands gripped her arms. They righted her, setting her back on her feet, and Hinata turned around slowly to face the person she’d bumped into.

She was met with the bluest eyes she had ever seen in her life. She’d though the Fourth Hokage’s eyes were blue, but this boy’s eyes were like the sky on a cloudless day. His sunny yellow hair spiked out from his head, three strange whisker marks fanned across his cheeks, and his smile . . . Hinata felt her face heat up. His smile was beautiful.

It took her a moment to realize he was speaking. “What?” she said, feeling stupid.

“I said, are you alright?” asked the boy, eyebrows furrowed in concern, and his voice sent shivers down Hinata’s spine.

“Yes,” she said breathily. She did not know what else to say. She thought she had never been as alright as she was right now, in this moment, staring into this boy’s blue, blue eyes.

“Good,” said the boy, smiling so hard his eyes were forced shut, “‘cuz for a minute there I was-”

He was interrupted by a voice from further down the alley calling “Enough!”

Hinata and the blue-eyed boy looked around, to see that the boy in black had released Sakura and was squaring off against Sasuke. The voice, however, seemed to have come from another boy, this one standing upside down on an upper branch of a nearby tree. He had a mop of red hair, dark circles around his eyes, and a large gourd strapped to his back. The word “love” was tattooed on his forehead, and his expression was deadly serious.

“You’re an embarrassment to our village,” the red haired boy was saying.

The boy in black took a hasty step backwards from Sasuke. “Gaara! I-I was just-” he began, but suddenly the blue-eyed boy was stepping past Hinata toward the knot of people.

“Gaara!” called the blue-eyed boy excitedly.

The red haired boy, Gaara apparently, turned his attention to where Hinata and the blue-eyed boy were standing. Immediately his face softened, a small smile playing around his mouth. The boy in black visibly relaxed, as did the girl he had called Temari.

“Naruto,” greeted Gaara as the blue-eyed boy went to stand below him.

Naruto, Hinata thought. The boy’s name was Naruto.

“What are you doing up there?” Naruto called, staring up at where Gaara was still hanging upside down. “Are you trying to look cool? C’mon, you’re better than that.”

A flurry of sand abruptly surrounded Gaara, and then he was standing on the ground next to Naruto.

“It’s good to see you here,” said Gaara, still smiling gently, as though he were very tired and was finally allowing himself to relax. “I wasn’t sure you were coming.”

“Wouldn’t miss it,” said Naruto, grinning broadly at Gaara, “but that’s no way to talk to your sibling. Kankuro was in the wrong, but you don’t need to call him an embarrassment.”

Gaara turned to the boy in black. “I’m sorry I snapped at you,” he said, dipping his head shallowly in apology.

“It’s cool,” said Kankuro, still sweating slightly, then turned back to Sakura and Sasuke. “And I’m sorry about what I said to you. Just having a little fun, you know?”

“See?” asked Naruto, folding his arms behind his head and beaming at Gaara. “It’s all good, no need for fighting. Hey, you wanna get something to eat?”

Sasuke did not look particularly inclined to take Kankuro’s apology. He looked back and forth between Naruto and Kankuro as though unsure who he was angrier at, but suddenly his eyes went wide as he looked at Naruto.

“You’re the genin from Uzushio?” he asked incredulously.

“That’s us,” said a voice from behind Hinata. She turned, to see two people standing behind her, clearly having entered the alley just behind Naruto. One was a girl with dark red hair and glasses obscuring eyes of the same shade, and the other was a boy with bright blue hair and a piercing below his lower lip. They both wore headbands with the Uzushio symbol on them, and when Hinata turned back to Naruto she could see he wore one too.

Immediately Hinata’s heart rate picked up. Whatever she had expected from the fearsome Uzushio ninja, it was not this bright and smiling boy who caught her when she fell and stopped fights before they started. She had not expected Naruto.

Sasuke was giving Naruto a look that said that Naruto wasn’t what he had expected either.

“I heard there’s a genius in your squad,” he said, looking between Naruto and the other two Uzushio ninja. “Or is more than one squad from your village participating in the chuunin exams?”

“That’s Naruto,” said the red haired girl proudly, crossing her arms over her chest. “He was top of our class at the academy, best student of his generation. He’s the pride and joy of our village.”

“Aw Karin, quit bragging,” said Naruto, but he did not look entirely displeased. His eyes met Hinata’s, and she quickly looked away.

Naruto was not only an Uzushio ninja, but he was the genius, their pride and joy? But he seemed so . . . nice.

Sasuke scoffed. “There’s no way you’re a genius,” he protested. “You’re way too loud and brash to even be a ninja.”

“Hey!” said the girl, who Hinata assumed was Karin. “You take that back!”

Out of the corner of her eye, Hinata saw Kankuro and Temari take a few steps backward, out of the way.

“I’m not apologizing for saying things that are true,” said Sasuke, apparently oblivious to the retreating ninja. “If you’re what passes for a genius in Uzushio then that village must have really gone downhill.”

“You shouldn’t say things like that about other people’s villages,” said Naruto, eyes narrowing. “Someone might take you seriously.”

“You’d better take me seriously,” Sasuke insisted. Immediately he began flipping through the signs for his fire breathing technique, and then he was raising his hand to his mouth and blowing through his fingers.

A jet of fire shot towards Naruto. Before it could reach him however he snapped his hands into a seal of his own, and a row of what looked like clones appeared before him, directly in the path of the flames. They were more solid than clones though, as each absorbed a bit of the fire before disbursing, and by the time Naruto was left standing alone once more the flames had gone out.

Shadow clones. Multiple shadow clones at a time. A jonin level technique.

Sasuke stared, apparently flabbergasted that his technique had not worked. From behind herself Hinata heard Karin laugh. Sasuke’s head snapped around at the noise, eyes flashing.

“You got something to add, you worthless little-“

Sasuke did not get the chance to finish his sentence. One moment Naruto was standing a few feet away from him, his expression neutral but serious. Then, less than a moment later, in the blink of an eye, he was standing right in front of Sasuke with his fist sunk into Sasuke’s stomach.

Sasuke made a retching noise and stumbled back, hunched over and clutching at his stomach. Sakura cried out his name and went to support him, but he shoved her away, and with a slight growl stuffed a hand into his pouch of weapons and pulled out a kunai.

“Why you-” he began, but before he could advance on Naruto the other boy was suddenly standing in front of him again, so fast that he didn’t appear to have moved at all. He was holding the wrist of the hand that held the kunai, and his other hand was drawn back. The nails of that hand looked remarkably like claws, and it was clear he was about to slice those claws across Sasuke’s face.

“Stop!” screamed a voice. At first Hinata thought it might have been Sakura’s, but when Sakura turned to look at her in surprise she realized it had been her own.

Naruto froze, his hand still drawn back to strike at Sasuke. His lips had been pulled back in a snarl of anger, but suddenly he looked only surprised. For a moment no one moved, all of them standing there frozen as they waiting for Naruto’s decision. Then Naruto looked at his own wrist as though in confusion. Hinata reluctantly tore her eyes from his face to see that a thin trail of sand was plucking at the sleeve of his jacket.

“Naruto,” said Gaara, in a voice like sandpaper. “Leave the idiot and let’s go eat.”

Just like that Naruto was suddenly standing beside Gaara, several feet back from Sasuke. Sakura hurried to put her weight behind Sasuke as he stumbled back, looking faintly shocked at what had just transpired.

“Sure!” said Naruto, suddenly all smiles once more. The two ninja behind Hinata came around her and hurried to Naruto’s side, falling into step beside him as he and Gaara began walking in the other direction. Kankuro and Temari went with them, and they all began chatting amicably amongst themselves.

When they had readed the other end of the alley however, Naruto turned.

“Hey cute girl,” he said, looking directly at Hinata. “I’ll catch you later, ok?”

Not knowing what else to do, too shocked to do anything else, Hinata nodded.

[samingtonwilson]

Marriage Material - Part 15

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6 / Part 7 / Part 8 / Part 9 / Part 10 / Part 11 / Part 12 / Part 13 / Part 14

Summary: in this chapter, you’ve changed.

Warnings: language

A/N: we’re going from a jim chapter to, like, the exact opposite.

You wanted to jam a scalpel into something. Not someone, thankfully, but something. Like a pillow, or a biobed mattress, or a CPR dummy. You wanted to dig the scalpel into an inanimate something and tug, and rip, and tear. You wanted to dig the cotton from the pillows, the sorry lack of cotton from the mattresses, and you wanted to pull the rubber covering the CPR dummy apart.

It wasn’t common for you to have such violent urges. You weren’t the most gentle, feather-like person in the least, but you certainly never felt like ripping sheets and thick rubber apart. You usually fought the urge to scream if you were angry— a lot of the time you gave in, too. You screamed into pillows, screamed in the shower, screamed in the confines of your quarters back when you lived solo.

Now that you lived with Jim, your space was his space, your pillow was his pillow, your shower was his shower. Unfortunately, you two would be in that space, near that pillow, and in that shower at the same time frequently. That meant you couldn’t scream non-sexually, you couldn’t release non-sexually.

All of that build-up, all of that clutter, all of that sudden spike in reason for said clutter, it just gave you the strongest frustration you’d ever felt. Your hands itched, your head ached, your chest felt weirdly contradictory.

You didn’t understand the feeling— the strange full but empty, too fast but too slow, anxious but calm feeling that you got each time you saw Jim, you heard Jim, you were near Jim. You hate it— all the clutter, all the feeling.

You were frustrated and angry and tired. You wanted to rip a goddamn pillow with a scalpel and scream while doing it.

You hopped off the biobed you were seated atop, your boot almost slipping on the deck plating you’d spilled a little water onto earlier. You caught yourself on the edge of the adjacent counter, laughing in relief and mild embarrassment. “Fuck.”

“Maybe don’t consider acrobatics as an alternative career, sugar.”

You made a face— eyes narrowed, single eyebrow raised, lips turned down in a frown. “We’re all good here? I can leave?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Leonard answered with a dismissive wave of his hand. “You’re healthy, whatever.”

“A little dissatisfied you could find nothing wrong with me, Len?”

He clicked his tongue with a single shake of his head. “Sweetheart, it’s a doctor’s dream to one day find every patient healed, every patient healthy, every nonpatient the same— you should know that.”

He set his PADD down and crossed his arms over his chest. “I’m dissatisfied because of that,” he added with a flourished motion towards your face.

Your smile was sarcastic and a little outraged. “Don’t boost my self-esteem too much now.”

“You’re lookin’ a little troubled is all.”

You shook your head. “Not troubled.”

“Yeah? Could’ve had me fooled with all the frownin’ and sighin’.”

A sigh, a wave of your hand, and a shrug later, you replied, “Just tired, Bones.”

“Bones?” he repeated, eyebrows skyrocketing. “Good fucking lord, darlin’. You’re turnin’ into your damn husband.”

“It just came out,” you laughed, shaking your head again. “Holy shit, he’s really— That man’s changing everything.”

“We need to be gettin’ you out of those quarters of yours more often.”

“Are you insinuating that I’m having too much sex?”

He snorted. “Only your mind went there.”

“It’s because I genuinely think I am having too much sex.” You laughed and nodded when he shot you a look of disgust. “You’re my doctor! I should be able to tell you these things!”

“I trust you’re bein’ responsible about it.”

You nodded. “I’m keeping up with my birth control and we’re safe. Also, I haven’t slept with anyone else since my drunken wedding, I’m hoping he hasn’t slept with anyone else since my drunken wedding— he was clean before it, I was clean before it. We’re good.”

“Assuming? You know better than anyone that man hasn’t so much as looked at anyone else since your drunken wedding.”

You smiled wider. “Yeah, you’re right. Turned a new leaf, that one.”

“He’s turned an entire fuckin’ tree.”

Laughing as you walked toward the door, you nodded in agreement. “Tell him I can’t stand him when you see him tonight. Tell him the sight of his ugly mug brings me so much devastation, I feel like my insides set themselves on fire.”

“Tell him you’re deeply in love with him and that the sight of him brings you so much joy, your insides feel like they’re jumpin’. Got it.”

He wasn’t far from the mark.

“Something here was lost in translation,” you mumbled, rolling your eyes as you left the exam room and started down the empty, plain white corridor to leave the medbay.

You hissed through gritted teeth and wore your most apologetic expression as you strolled through the medbay doors and saw the disappointed look over Uhura’s features. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry! Physical ran late! Len thought he saw something in my ear— Batman, or something.”

She scoffed. “What?”

You nodded toward the hall so she’d follow you. “Your pediatrician never did that? Look in your ear and tell you some weird cartoon character or superhero was in there.”

“She did, I just didn’t think my grown ass friend would use that in a joke.”

“Listen, I could have been a comedian.”

“And audiences everywhere thank their lucky stars you decided against it.”

You mouthed her words imitatively, leaning against the back wall of the turbolift you were now occupying, calling out for the deck of your quarters. “I’ll ignore that and pretend to be interested now when I ask you how everything’s going. So, how’s everything going?”

“Oh, incredible,” Uhura laughed with a roll of her dark eyes. She smoothed her hand over the top of her tied hair, her fingers trailing back to her ponytail and tightening the elastic band there. “Not overworked, not tired at all.”

“Ah, yes. The Enterprise is home to the most well-rested officers in the fleet.”

She laughed again, walking down the corridor beside you once the lift doors slid open. “What about you, starlight?”

You stuck your tongue out at her playfully. “Everything is stellar. I’m living the fucking dream.”

“I know you’re being sarcastic but I’d kill for this little dream you’re living.”

“Yeah?” you asked, entering the code on the control panel beside your door. “Is that why you decided not to marry your green-blooded, pointy-eared—”

She pushed at your shoulder and you laughed, amending your words with a quick, “Spock. Is that why you decided not to marry Spock?”

“That decision was made based less upon living a potentially wonderful life where you and the one you love are committed to one another and based more upon not wanting to get married in the same place that one popstar married her sixty-six minute third husband.”

Once the door slid open, Uhura slipped through and plopped onto the couch less than gracefully. She dramatically draped her arm over her eyes, lying back as you sat on the floor. “No offense, of course.”

You threw your boots aside, stretching your legs before you. “None taken, Ny. Marriage isn’t a huge dream, though. I mean, look at my parents— they can’t stand each other.”

“Yes, but look at you and Jim.”

“We’ve been married for seventeen seconds and look at me.” You pointed at your frown. “Do I look happy?”

She frowned in consideration, setting her arm at her side again. “Everyone has their problems.”

You snorted. “Right. According to literature on the subject, we’re still in our honeymoon phase. Me walking around angry isn’t—” you sighed and shook your head. “It’s not how I’m supposed to feel.”

“How are you supposed to feel?”

“I’m supposed to be happier, I’m supposed to run around telling everyone how much I love him, I’m supposed to tell him how much I love him.” You bit down on your tongue for a second. “I mean, I obviously tell him that— we wouldn’t be married if I’d never told him I love him.”

“I get what you’re saying. You feel like you don’t say it enough.”

You nodded slowly. “Sure.”

“Why are you angry anyway?” she asked, sighing dramatically as she rose from the couch and walked to the replicator in the kitchen. She set the first plate she could find under the machine and called for something you didn’t pay attention to, leaning her hip against the edge of the counter. “He do something?”

You shrugged a shoulder. “It’s stupid.”

“Doesn’t matter, I want to know.”

“He just—” you shook your head again, clicking your tongue. “Nothing, eat your…” you craned your neck to sneak a peek at her plate as she passed you with it. You were unsuccessful in your attempts. “What is that?”

“Mango.”

“Give me some!”

She shook her head and sat cross-legged atop the couch. “Not until you tell me what he’s doing to make you angry.”

“You know, there’s more to our lives than just the men in them,” you said, pushing yourself off the ground and sitting beside her. You tried to take a piece of the cut fruit, growling when she pulled the plate away.

“No one knows that better than I do. But your marriage is a big part of your life— it’s supposed to be.” She set her hand on both of yours, her eyes meeting yours as she smiled a little. “Plus, I want you to smile again. You were doing that a lot just a few weeks ago.”

“I was younger then. More naïve.”

Uhura snorted, rolling her eyes. She set the plate between the two of you. “Now tell me.”

You took a deep breath. You picked up a perfectly ripe, slippery piece of peeled mango and took a bite— it could never be as good as the mango you got on Earth, but it was an adequate replacement. “He just— He looks me in the eyes all the time.”

“And?”

“It’s just—” you groaned when you felt like the words wouldn’t make sense, shaking your head. “I don’t make eye contact usually. You know that! I almost passed you yesterday when you said hi because I was busy looking at my damn boots. And he— He’s always making eye contact with me. When we’re talking, when we’re fighting, when we’re having sex. He just keeps his eyes, like, in mine all the time.”

“What’s wrong with that?”

You shrugged. “Nothing, I’ve just never had that before. No one’s ever wanted me to keep my eyes on them, no one’s ever been that interested in how I feel nonverbally. Which isn’t even that bad but he looks at me like he really sees me, not like he’s looking past me like my parents do and not like he’s looking through me like most guys do.”

“All of that sounds amazing,” she laughed. “But I do understand it being a little uncomfortable if it’s new to you.”

“Exactly. And he’s one of those people, you know? The ones that always want to touch you, or hold you, or kiss you, or just be around you. And, God, it’s so nice that he’s like that because it’s all I want, too, I just suck at actually doing it.”

You tipped your nose to the ceiling, your eyes sliding shut as a small smile pulled at your lips. There was warmth in your fingertips, in your stomach, on your eyelids— you felt as if the sun was shining on you just from thoughts of Jim. “And there’s a lot inside of him. A lot of love, a lot of light and he just wants to give it away. Obviously you don’t grow up the way he did without a touch of the opposite filled in you but he channels it so well and he just— Fuck, he’s so good. Everything about him is so good.”

Uhura was smiling at you. “Still not getting what there is to be mad at here.”

Your eyes opened. “I’m not that good. There isn’t that much inside of me and, if there is, I’ve never acknowledged it. I’m also scared of all of this— of everything in him, of how good he is, of how he just never looks away. Because I—” you shook your head and took another deep breath. “Nyota, I’m so in love with him I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore. I hate him for making me fall so deeply in love with him, I hate myself for marrying him, I hate all of this because it’s scary, and I don’t deserve it, and it’s so real. I’m not playing house with my best friend, I’m married to him, and I’m in love with him, and I’m admitting to myself that I’m in love with him.”

She was still smiling when you brought your eyes back to hers. “You’ve changed.”

“What? No, I haven’t,” you scoffed. “Say something else, I’ll say something snarky back. Watch.”

“You really have changed. A few months ago you were barely able to admit you loved your favorite movie because you were embarrassed that you felt so strongly about it,” she said, her smile hurting your cheeks just to look at. “Now look at you. Marriage suits you.”

You couldn’t help your own smile. “Everything suits me.”

The two of you were a good ten minutes into a discussion about a medical journal you’d just read suggesting the potential end to the common cold on Earth when the door chimed and slid open. Your eyes immediately flitted in its direction, heat spreading over you almost insultingly so. You looked away when blue eyes met your own.

“Captain,” Uhura said simply, a nod in his direction and a sly smile in yours. “We were just talking about you.”

Jim raised an eyebrow. “Yeah? Someone once told me if you talk bad about another person, you’re actually wiping out their bad karma.”

“Who said it was something bad?”

He snorted, walking to kitchen but taking a detour to press his lips to the top of your head. “It’s the two of you, Lieutenant. Of course it’s something bad.”

You shook your head. “We stopped talking about you ages ago and it was nothing bad, soțul meu. I can’t believe you’d think so little of me— your actual wife.”

“I know you too well to fall for that,” he told you, motioning towards your widened eyes and pouted lips. “Might’ve worked on me when we first met but not anymore.”

“I’m serious, you know. I was being very nice. I said you’re only mildly irritating.”

“Can you hear that?” he asked, narrowing his eyes before he lifted a glass of ice water from under the replicator. “It’s the sound of my ego inflating.”

“I’m surprised it hasn’t burst yet.”

Uhura nodded to herself, handing you the empty plate that was in her lap as she stood. “That’s my cue to leave. All of this married banter is disgusting.”

“You’re only leaving because Jim being here means Spock’s free now,” you pointed out, hopping off the couch plate-in-hand.

She gasped playfully, walking out of the door with a shouted, “How dare you!”

You set the plate in the sink, laughing quietly until you noticed Jim watching you. You turned to face him. “What?”

“Nothing,” he answered with the hint of the smirk. He crossed his arms over his chest. “Bones told me something.”

“God, if he told you looking at you brings me so much joy that my insides feel like they’re jumping—”

He snorted. “He didn’t tell me that. He told me you called him ‘Bones.’”

You shook your head. “I didn’t.”

“You did.”

“I didn’t. You’re going off what Bones told you, that’s hearsay.”

“You just called him ‘Bones’ again!” he laughed, reaching for you and wrapping his arm around your waist to pull you closer.

“It’s your fault! He’s all you talk about and that’s how you refer to him.”

“He isn’t all I talk about.”

“Yeah? You sure about that? You even talk about him in your sleep. Last night you told him to stop chasing you around the ship with a hypo.”

Jim’s eyes widened. “Wh— I didn’t—”

Laughing, you grabbed a fistful of his uniform and tugged him even closer. “You didn’t, but the fear in your eyes was real, sunshine. You knew it was a possibility.”

PART 16

lil tag list: (tell me if you’d like to be tagged): @feelmyroarrrr @to-pick-ourselves-up-7@star-trekkin-across-theuniverse @webhoard @dirajunara @the-space-goddess-16@whiteandblackkeys @sugarshai @goodnightwife @anyakinamidala @iwillstaywiththemforever @majisean @bbparker @heyjess-marie@kirkaholic123@thepjofanqueen@buckybuckling @da1120@dudahmautner@purelittleblueberry @insposcollective @our-chaoticwhispers @procrastinace @misbehaving146 @thenextdoorangel @equineaddictx @sarkastodon @20th-centu-fairy-girl @arrowswithwifi

[rcthschiild-blog]

y’all i literally spent 25 hours just choosing a gif for this intro & lbr all the gifs i had were of joey bc who doesn’t love some joey ?? but ANYWAY !!!! the war is over ?? the day is Finally here ?? JSFGHJK

HEYYYYY GUYS I’M SHAN … & if u couldn’t tell already , i’m so excited to be here !! i’m 19 , from the gmt timezone , & use she/her pronouns !! i’m here 2 introduce u to my trash bag son , although although by trash bag i mean a thousand dollar coco chanel hand bag bc he wouldn’t settle for anything less !! anyway , i have a development tag for theo HERE that has some lil tidbits in it !! if u wanna plot just give that lil heart a press or hmu & i’ll come runninG to u !! I HAVE A CONNECTIONS PAGE IN THE WORKS I PROMISE THE CONSTRUCTION DUDES HAVE JUST BEEN SLACKIN !!

pls wander carefully bc there are triggers of GUN VIOLENCE & MURDER !!

( neels visser. cismale. he/him ) // did you see who walked past just then ? couldn’t really tell from the distance but i think it’s ( theodore ‘theo’ rothschild ) actually ! the ( twenty-one ) year old is a little ( ostentatious ) if you ask me but they’re also ( beguiling ). i heard that when they opened the capsule, they took out the ( popsicle sticks ) that they’d left seventeen years ago. i wonder what that even means to them especially now that they’re a ( ceo ) ?

ok where do i start lmao

alrIGHT so basically his birth name is theodore rothschild , but if u ever call him theodore then u better hope u have a good lawyer for when he tries to sue u sO just call him theo

he was born to an artistic mom & ceo dad , & had an older sister called sofia

i’m not gonna get supeR into detail abt the family business bc tbh i’m too lazy kfghjk but do y’all know the company that asshole owns in transformers: dark of the moon ?? wELL that’s where the inspo for the family company comes from lmao they basically just showcase cars

so basicallY they’re super into cars & all that , want to celebrate them by doing exhibitions & stuff it’s rlY weird but they’re lowkey a weird family ??

the thing is tho when the kids got a little older & were comfortable in their home , their mom decided she wanted to delve deeper into her career as an artist which left theo & his sister left for a nanny to take care of

so imagine a smol theo , a spoiled 4 yr old trying his best to get his parents’ attention in whichever way possible , including stealing something sentimental

basically it’s tradition for each rothschild to write their name on a popsicle stick & put it in a box for other generations to do the same , dating back to like 30 / 40 years ago on a beach where one of the weirder rothschild’s decided it’d be a good idea idk like i said they’re weirD jsfbk

so yeaH he stole this box , obviously not understanding that it was important like who keeps popsicle sticks that’s just strange af ?? but he picked it up , even tho he didn’t know what he was gonna do with it but he was foUR yrs old his imagination was running wild

give or take a few days & along came the carnival , aka theo knew what he was gonna do with the sticks !! he heard abt the time capsule , even tho he didn’t know whaT it meant & when his sister & nanny weren’t looking he snuck the box into the time capsule & carried on like nothing was wrong

but obviouslY something was wrong !! when his father noticed the box was missing he was pisseD tf off & demanded answers , so theo being theo , not rly thinking & lowkey being a coward blamed his sister , who after trying to prove her innocence suffered the consequences

this lil event shook the household tbh. theo’s dad spent even less time at home , instead throwing all his time into work & not his family. his sister never spoke to him the same way again , their once incredible relationship ruined & replaced by something close to hatred. in fact , the only person who theo truly felt connected to was his mom

even though he loved his mother more than anything & enjoyed watching her draw & paint , his one true love was cars. he got that trait from his father , much to his mother’s disappointment buT his sister enjoyed painting too so she settled. theo , however , didn’t

sure , his love of cars got SOME attention from his dad , but ofc it wasn’t enough. theo wanted to feel like he had a father , no matter what he had to do & so he walked along a stray path

he was a smart kid. at school , he got top marks in near enough every class & often got letters of appreciation sent home about him. but realising this wasn’t going to get his dad’s attention , theo decided to go in the oppositE direction & just flunk school all together

his teachers couldn’t understand it ?? likE one minute he was the star pupil & the next he was the one with bad attendance , bad listening skills & bad math. it was a complete 180 , but it seemed to work bc his dad started chastising him about it. not the sort of attention theo wanted , but it was a starT

theo didn’t realise the consequences of his actions until high school , when classes got harder & things were more difficult to understand. he basically got himself into this rut where he wasn’t trying anymore & knew that was no way out of it , but not wanting his father’s attention to divide he carried on even though he was failing nearly every class

one day his father pulled him aside & told him that if he ever wanted to take over the family business , he’d have to get better grades in school & work for it , but by this point theo didn’t want to work. he wanted the business , sure , but at this point school was boring him & he was searching for ways that would keep him occupied. so , instead of actually TRYING he figured a way out of it. he started to pay some of the smarter kids to do his work meaninG while he focused on cars & being a teenager other ppl carried him

ANYWAY it was like this throughout his entire freshman year , but during the summer after thar his grandfather ( who was the only reason his parents stayed in lorfield ) passed away , & after his funeral his parents dropped the news that they’d be moving to the city

theo was shooK bc he loved small time life , esp for a rich family who’s private life wasn’t very private at all. like i’m p sure he didn’t know abt it until the day they moved ?? so he didn’t have the chance to tell his friends lmao

buT moving to the city did give him a wake up call !! esp in senior year when he realised he’d be on his own in exams so ?? he at least TRIED ??

with a lot of help tho bc lbr this lil shit has never done anythinG for himself in his entire life

but he did it !! he passed !! & actually got into college which was a miracle , & to his surprise his father actually started paying attention to him , so much so that he invited theo & his sister to his office one night

ok this is where the triggers come in tread carefully my dudes

the night was pretty fun , theo was hype af bc he could finally learn how to manage the business ?? & spend time with his dad ?? what a blessing ??

but u know .. the calm before the storm & all that

lmao

it all happened so fast tbh like theo didn’t even realise what was happening until the bullets started coming & his dad & sister dropped to the floor ?? & the wake up call was when he was shot himself ??

theo’s dad & sister passed away that night , october 15th to give an exact date , but theo survived with a scar in his chest & a hole in his heart

after the funeral & once theo had recovered enough , the investigation took place. nobody understood why they were killed , since the rothschilds generally keep to themselves , but after some digging they found out that the person who killed them , a woman called martha myers , who was his father’s assistant & ex-affair. apparently , he broke it off a week before the shooting & she took it in the worst way possible

theo didn’t quite believe it at first , but after countless , sleepless nights & terrible nightmares he realised it was true. it took a while for him to wrap his head around it , & in all honesty he blamed the city for corrupting his father into having an affair in the first place

after the grievance period , theo took over the family company & after a couple of years moved back to lorfield. he’s been back for a couple of weeks now , long enough to settle down but short enough that he hasn’t seen many people yet

he’s matured a lot since the shooting ?? like , he takes work v seriously despite having his managers run the business while he’s at home doing everything he can there , bc he likes to avoid taking trips to the office as much as possible

theo can be intimidating but quiet , thoughtful but introvert , charming but deceitful

he tries to keep to himself ?? like , he can hold a good conversation without revealing too much about himself

people call him arrogant & self-righteous , but he’s actually a nice guy ?? he tries to keep a cool front & associate himself with as little people as possible ( a typical rich kid smh ) but he has a lot of emotions that he’s battling

he’s a vegetarian & a HUGE animal lover

#thecarenthusiast2k17

if u value ur life pls don’t call him theodore . i meaN it y’all

there’s a hELL of a lot more but ,, i’m lazy

A FEW CONNECTION IDEAS BC I CAN’T HELP MYSELF

a best friend pls

exes ??? y’all

enemIES pls

old friends

good/bad influence ???

siblinG like friendship pls !!

an ex fling maybe idk idk jdghjj

thank u for ur time

[rainsonata]

Play Date

Fandom/Pairing: Elsword; none Rating: K Word Count: 5,805

Summary:  The school knew Mastermind by first name for Arc’s bi-monthly trips to the principal’s office because of “boredom.” That changes when Arc makes a new friend.  MMLP Modern AU developed with @blazingsnark, where MM and LP are single dads to AT and PT.

Note:  Rest of MMLP Modern AU can be found here.   

Mastermind placed his morning coffee mug inside one of the cup holders close to the driving stick and took a bite out of a bagel before wrapping it in napkins and placing it in the other cup holder.  He too cheerfully fiddled his hands at the steering wheel while waiting for Arc to get in.    

Arc grumbled as he took the lunch bag from Mastermind and climbed into the car, sticking his head out of the window as the car engine roared to life.  His legs dangled from his seat and he closed his eyes as they backed out of the garage and onto the streets, car jerking to the side when Mastermind made a sharp turn too soon.   A white backpack with purple outlines lay sandwiched between his legs, surely to smoosh the books and snacks packed inside if he wasn’t careful.  He toyed with the cat keychain attached to one of the zippers when he opened his eyes to peek and saw that they were minutes away from school.

Mastermind commented at a stoplight and glanced to see the bulging backpack.  “Are they already giving you lots of homework?”

He shook his head, “No, they’re books I borrowed from the library.”  Arc scrunched up his eyebrows to mirror his father, “So I won’t be bored.”   

“Third grade might be different,” Mastermind said, but didn’t believe a single word of it.  “You might make a friend.”  The unimpressed look Arc gave him was telling that he didn’t believe it either.  Phone calls home and parent-teacher meetings a few weeks into the year were enough evidence that not much has changed from the year before.

“It’s the same kids from last year,” Arc complained.

Mastermind sighed, already seeing where this was going.  Already a preteen, Arc was too old for arranged playdates and was never enthusiastic for them when he was younger.  He was more than aware that there weren’t a lot of options for Arc to make friends when they were already familiar with most of the children and their parents after years of sharing classes and teachers.  There were exceptions of course, but if there were, he didn’t hear a word about it from Arc.

“If the teacher calls me in again this week-“

“She called because she didn’t like my writing,” Arc protested.

“You wrote that she liked to pick her fingers during exams,” Mastermind reminded him.

“How can I pay attention if she keeps doing that?”

“Arc,” Mastermind sighed.

“You can drop me there,” he pointed at the sidewalk when Mastermind drove into the parking lot crammed full of other parents dropping their children off.  Arc grabbed his backpack and threw it on his back with lunch bag in hand, “Bye, Dad!”

Mastermind planted his face on the steering wheel for a few seconds and groaned.  Stupid, Masi, he scolded at himself at the failure to talk to Arc about making friends.  Flashbacks of being told who he could befriend and locked in the house to do extra homework haunted him even as he looked up to drive his car out of the parking lot.  He didn’t want Arc to go through that.  What was he doing wrong?  Arc was given more freedom on what to do, outside of academics and a few extracurriculars, and yet he never brought a friend home once.  What if Arc became friendless like him?

He grabbed the coffee from the cup holder beside him to take a sip and inhaled the fragrance of the drink.  Today was going to be another long day.    

Fiddling with his pencil for what felt like the millionth time that day, Arc looked down to his paper with a hunched back, the teacher’s voice droning in the background.  When he looked around the classroom to see that half of his peers were hardly paying attention like he was, Arc leaned in his seat with a quiet sigh.  This was so boring!

On his lap and underneath his desk was a book he brought with him to class.  Every now and then, after checking to make sure no one was looking, he would scoot his chair back to read a few lines before looking up again and pretended to be interested in the lesson.  His notebook was on his desk with some notes written down, but most of it was occupied by cats and cubes.  Ever since Mastermind taught him how to draw cubes, he couldn’t stop drawing them.  It was more fun than listening to his teacher talk about stuff he already knew.  He tried playing tic tac toe with himself, but it wasn’t fun if his pretend opponent kept blocking all his moves with x’s.

Arc pulled his textbook out from his bag, something he should have done at the beginning of class, and flipped over to the page to glance at the math problems set before him.  “What number?” He asked his neighbor with reluctance.

“Ten,” his classmate replied.

Arc thanked them and drew a line below his notes to mark his paper for the new math problem.  It only took him a few seconds of adding them up and carrying the numbers over to get his answer.  Was that all?

He went back to his book to read a few more sentences, but held his breath when it was the scene where the kids were caught in a misfire by the people chasing them.  Turning his head around to see what his classmates were doing, Arc saw that most of them were still writing in their notebooks.  He returned to the book to where the kids were trapped underneath a lake and there wasn’t much time to escape, the older character wasn’t going to make it…

“Did you already finish?”

“No, I’m only halfway through-“ Arc looked up to see the teacher standing over his shoulder.  He slid the book underneath his desk, but knew she already saw it on his lap.  Aw nuts.

“Meet me in the principal’s office after school,” she said quietly.

Luckily for him, this teacher was not one to cause a big scene.  She didn’t raise her voice when she waited for Arc to hand her the book and tucked it under her arm.  The teacher smiled, but he could tell she wasn’t pleased.  Arc held his breath.

“All right, now who wants to solve the problem on the whiteboard?” The teacher asked.

Arc sighed, burying his face into his arms and squeaked when he accidentally knocked his pencil off his desk.  Bending over to grab the rolling pencil, he stopped when he caught the stare of a student sitting next to him.  What was he looking at?

Crossing the soccer field later that day at recess, Arc ran to the area furthest from the classrooms, the one close to the fenced gate facing the streets.  He dodged a flying ball and scurried over to the big oak tree, sitting down happily with his legs crossed.  Arc tried not to think too much about being called to the principal’s office after class.  It didn’t bother him sitting with the principal – in fact, it was easier to talk to him than some of his peers - but he wasn’t looking forward to listening to the teacher and his dad talking about him.

“Hey, you’re the kid that always gets his book taken away in class!”

Arc looked up to see a boy running up to him, panting to catch his breath.  With the wind blowing, his messy white hair made him resemble the fluffy clouds above them.    

“So?” Arc scowled at him for stating the obvious.  Hugging the other book he brought with him to school, he turned his head in hopes of driving the other guy away with his display of disinterest.  What did he want?

The boy grinned, “That’s the new book that came out, right?  How far did you get?”

It took Arc a few seconds to realize that the boy wasn’t joking because he was jumping up and down in excitement.  There was no way anyone could fake that kind of enthusiasm, not if they were this happy to be talking to him at a speed that was almost impossible to understand.     

“Arc, right?” The boy stuck out his hand and beamed, “My name’s Psych!  Nice to meet you!”

“I knew that,” Arc lied.  He couldn’t recall the boy’s name because he never had a class with him until this year, but Psych didn’t need to know that.  “Why are you here?”  He wanted to get through a few pages before the bell rang, where he would soon have to face his dad.   

“You’re always by yourself,” he whined.  “So I thought I should join you!”

Arc look up to get a better look at his classmate.  Dressed in a black hood and a pair of jeans, there was nothing extraordinary about him, but his ever-smiling face made the sun behind him pale in comparison.  Oh yeah, they’ve been sitting next to each other all year.  They even did a few in-class assignments together.  How could he forget?

“Don’t you have something else to do?” Arc looked over at the children kicking the soccer ball around the field, watching it fly several yards over their heads before landing into the grass to be passed around.

He shrugged, “Not really.”

Now that Arc thought about it, he never recalled seeing Psych talk to a lot of people around him either.  He sometimes saw Psych playing tetherball by himself at recess, but he thought the boy was waiting for someone.

“So did you finish reading it?” Psych asked him again.

“Not yet,” Arc admitted.  “It’s a big book.”

Psych nodded and stage whispered, “I got the book yesterday, so don’t spoil it for me!”  

Arc rolled his eyes at how dramatic the boy was, but he didn’t complain.

“Want to go see my new Lego set?” he asked. “They have the characters from that book, and I didn’t open it yet.”

“Now?”

“It’s at home,” Psych shook his head.  “I can show it to you if you come to my house?”

Arc shook his head, “Can’t.”

“Oh, right, principal’s office.” He laughed, “You go there a lot, don’t you?”

“You have no idea…”

“How about this weekend?” Psych laughed again. “Can’t be in the principal’s office on the weekends, right?”

“Sure,” Arc wasn’t sure if he should have taken Psych’s comment as an insult or not, but he didn’t dwell on it when the bell rang and groaned.

Psych took him by the arm and pulled - nah, dragged - him across the soccer field to line up at the classroom and waited for the teacher to open it for them.  As they rushed to their desks to grab their bags, Psych dropped a paper ball at Arc’s desk and gave him a wink as he exited the room.  When Arc unraveled the paper ball and smoothed it out with his hand, he found Psych’s address in messy handwriting.

Pride rose inside Arc’s stomach at the realization.  He made a friend.

It was a quarter past two in the afternoon when Mastermind looked up at the sound of his name.  For once, he wasn’t bombarded with assignments at work, so he dropped by the coffee shop across his workplace to grab something to drink before having to pick up Arc from school.  It had been the barista calling his name, so Mastermind clicked his phone shut and walked up to grab his coffee.

“Heeeey!  Long time no see!”

He turned to see Elesis behind the counter in her barista uniform with a bright expression.  Resting her arm against the counter, she had her red hair tied into a high ponytail and winked at him.

Mastermind snorted. “We see each other every day.”

“Which is sadly not enough.” She feigned a teary look and ignored his rolled eyes.  “Very tragic.”

Mastermind shook his head at the dramatic display and laughed. “I’m going to guess it’s slow business today.”  He sometimes wondered why didn’t she go into theatrics when they were college students.  She always seemed ready to dish out bizarre one liners and entertained him and their other friends with her antics.    

“Hey, don’t be hasty,” Elesis waved off his comment.  “My shift ended with your drink.”

“As always.”

“That’s because you live here,” she teased.

“If only.” Mastermind laughed.

“So what is it today?  No phone call from the school?” Elesis hopped over the counter and followed Mastermind to sit with him at the table closest to the window.

“Not yet.” Mastermind tried to smile, but it felt like a herculean effort.        

Her eyes softened. “I’m sure Arc’s okay.”

That’s not what the teachers tell me, Mastermind wanted to say, but he kept his mouth shut.  He knew Arc wasn’t a bad child, but he was worried thinking about the kind of trouble his son may come into because of his mouth.  Of course…that was partially his fault.  From physical looks down to his favorite food, Arc inherited a lot from Mastermind, including his sharp tongue for better or worse. Usually it was for the worse when talking to people.

“He says he has no friends,” Mastermind ran through his roots with one hand.  “His teacher asked if something was going on at home.  She said he never talks to other children.  I told her no, but what if I’m wrong?  Maybe it was something I said or did wrong.”

“You’re not the only one taking care of Arc,” Elesis snapped at him.  “What about me?  Blade, Elsa, my husband?”

His phone vibrated in his pocket with irritation with a song he was too accustomed to playing in the background.  Mastermind stared at his coffee cup for a split second before fumbling through his pockets.  He almost dropped it when he found it and clumsily pressed to answer it.

His heart dropped in recognition of the phone number flashed across the screen, his breath hitched and his hands shook at the sound of the woman’s voice.  Arc’s teacher greeted him on the other side with the same tiredness he had, but her voice remained restrained as she told him the news.  No, he didn’t correct her again when she was trying to teach new material to the class.   Arc was caught reading a book in class and was sitting in the principal’s office, waiting for Mastermind to pick him up.

“I understand,” Mastermind’s senses grew numb.  There was a short pause on the phone before the teacher asked if he had any questions.  “No, I’ll pick him up.  Thank you.”

Elesis’s face was serious when he hung up the phone.  “His teacher?” she asked.

Mastermind nodded, “It’s nothing serious.”

“Doesn’t look like it,” she said.  “You look like you haven’t slept.”

“I’ll tell you more about later.” He stood up and gave Elesis an awkward wave with coffee in hand.  “Thanks for the coffee.”

Mastermind turned to sprint out the door, but squeaked when he bumped into someone and tumbled backwards.  His eyes widened when his coffee spilled over the person’s shirt and cursed to himself for his damn luck.  He didn’t even get past the halfway mark for that drink!  Rubbing the back of his head, Mastermind looked to see who it was.      

The person was a man with the face of a thug, or at least that’s what Mastermind thought.  He wore a collared shirt like Mastermind did, so he must have come out of work too.  He had his hand on his hip and scowled when Mastermind lowered his head to apologize.   

“Sorry,” Mastermind said sheepishly.  “I can help you with that.”  He backpedaled to the nearest table, flicked some napkins out of the dispenser, and held them out to the man.

The man grabbed the napkins and wiped the brown stains off his shirt (Who wore purple?). He patted it several times until it was all soaked up, then rolled the napkins into a ball and tossed it into the trash bin from across the room.   

“I can pay for your coffee,” Mastermind mumbled when he saw the man still glaring at him as if it was all his fault.  Okay, maybe it was, but he wasn’t sure on what else to do or say in this sort of situation.

The stranger sighed, “Forget it, it’s just a shirt.”  He turned to face Mastermind with brows relaxing to reveal the man was around the same age as him.  The man’s hair stuck up on one side like the wind blew in one direction.   

“All right,” Mastermind wasn’t convinced, but let it slide.  That person was a stranger after all, no need to make a big deal out of it.  He opened the door to leave the coffee shop, but couldn’t stop from looking back to see the stranger again.  The man’s hair was white.

Arc swung his legs in his chair, watching them dangle over the carpeted floor with a bored expression.  His textbook was opened to a page, but he couldn’t concentrate long enough to remember what the question was.  The eraser at the end of his pencil was almost all gone from erasing his writing for every time he misspelled a word.  He ended up drawing the neighbor’s cat he ran into this morning, and was giving it stripes when the door to the principal’s office opened.       

Shifting in his seat with discomfort, he peeked from behind his book with worried eyes, half expecting the person to be a teacher or another parent.  Arc squeaked when he saw it was Mastermind.  He shuffled his stuff together and tried to make himself presentable as possible, textbooks stacked with one opened on his lap and papers lined up with his pencils.  Arc gave Mastermind a cheery smile, but shrunk when he received dead eyes from him.  Oh no…what did the teacher tell him?

His mind and heart raced at the worse scenarios he could imagine.  Did the teacher say he talked back at her again?  Or was it because he corrected her on a math problem?  Could it be from the time he turned in a three-page book report when the rest of the kids wrote one page? Arc watched him walk into the office with the usual formal greeting, stuff adults did, but he noticed that Mastermind looked more tired than usual.    

“Mr. Grenore,” the principal greeted him.  “We’re glad to see you could make it today.”

“You were lucky to catch me on a day with light workload.” Mastermind laughed, but it was a hollow one that didn’t suit him.

Arc mentally groaned at the petty talk between the adults.  Why did they do this all the time?  He tuned out their conversation to look at the reading passage he has been stuck on for the past minutes or so, but sometimes looked up to pretend he was paying attention.

“Must be tough with those assignments,” the principal said sagely.

Mastermind shrugged, “It’s something you get used to, but I managed.”

“Arc was caught reading in class again,” his teacher interrupted the small talk.

Arc almost pushed his book onto the floor when he rested his elbow on it.  He caught the book from falling over and stopped himself from fussing when his pencil left a mark on the pages.  Arc rubbed his eraser on the pages, careful that the pages didn’t crumble and hoped that it was enough to take out the marks.    

“Yes, as you told me on the phone,” Mastermind crossed his arms.  “Is there anything else I need to know?”

“He keeps disturbing the class and correcting me last week,” she rambled.  “I’m trying to teach the material to my class and he’s making them question me.”

“Well that’s the teacher’s job, isn’t it?  If they ask you questions, then you should answer them so they can learn.” Mastermind looked down to ask Arc.  “Did you finish your work before reading?”

Arc, who had his arms on the chair’s arm rest and looking up between the adults, was relieved to see his dad finally talk to him instead of the teacher.  He meekly replied, “Yes.”

“I don’t see the problem then.” Mastermind closed his eyes. “If there’s nothing else to talk about, then we’ll be leaving.”  He went to gather Arc’s books and said, “You ready?”

Arc threw his books and pencil into his bag and pulled the zipper to close his backpack, eager to grab Mastermind’s arm to pull him away from his teacher and the principal.  Finally, they were leaving!    

When they sat in the car, he was at the front seat as always with Mastermind at the steering wheel, but why weren’t they starting the car?  Arc hugged his backpack and looked at Mastermind to see that his dad wasn’t angry, or at least he wasn’t frowning or scolding him.  Not yet.    

Mastermind tapped his finger on the steering wheel without looking at Arc, closing his eyes and breathing in to calm himself down.  Arc blinked and looked down.  There was no familiar coffee cup at the front of the car, was that why Mastermind was tired?

“Are you mad at me?” Arc broke the silence.

“No,” Mastermind said, without an ounce of anger in his voice.  “Arc…this is the second time in the office this month.  I know you finished your work, but this teacher isn’t as forgiving as last year’s.”

“She doesn’t let any of us have fun,” Arc grumbled, but low enough so that Mastermind couldn’t hear it.  He said out loud, “Guess what, Dad?  I made a friend today!”

He waited for a response from Mastermind, who straightened his back and turned to give Arc a wide-eyed look in disbelief.  Arc grinned when his dad asked, “Who is it?”

“His name is Psych,” Arc said with excitement.  “He invited me over this weekend to see his new toys.  Can I go?”

Now that he earned Mastermind’s full attention, Arc bounced in his seat, waving the crumbled paper with the address to show to him as proof.  The writing was messy, but he read it out to Mastermind and said, “He doesn’t live far from here.”     

Mastermind rubbed his forehead, “You’re still in trouble for being in the principal’s office.”  He saw Arc’s smile waver and said, “But…I’ll let you go only if you promise not to get in trouble again by the end of this week.”

He knew Mastermind was disappointed in him for the trouble he caused, and he did feel bad about it, but it was hard to control himself when it felt like his teacher and most of his classmates were ignoring him.  But still, all he had to do was keep his mouth shut this week.  That’s all it took.  Arc crossed his fingers, promised, and prayed that this week would be over already.      

True to Arc’s promise, there were no phone calls from the school for the rest of the week, earning Mastermind more downtime, although the habit of checking his phone for every notification was tiring.  Without the need to wake up for class or work on Saturday, it was a lazy morning where they could finish breakfast at a table for once.  Mastermind smiled when Arc eagerly reminded him what day it was.

“Come on, dad!”  Arc had on a t-shirt, a pair of jeans, and a backpack again overstuffed with books and toys.  “Let’s go!”

“Psych’s house isn’t going to run away from us.” Mastermind chuckled at his son’s impatience.

Mastermind wondered if he was being too lenient with Arc.  While he thought the reasons for his son landing in the principal’s office were stupid, he still had to be the responsible parent and at least remind Arc not to get in trouble.  He thought he was being fair about it.  Arc wasn’t allowed to touch the TV or even his books until he was done with homework and chores throughout the week and had to sleep earlier than usual.  Mastermind made sure of that and kept an eye on him despite the complaints he received from Arc.  Going by that reasoning, it wasn’t wrong for him to go play with a friend on the weekend, right?   

They had trouble finding Psych’s house because of the messy writing, with both trying to decipher the letters and a few occasions of Mastermind missing turns or taking the wrong street.  Even after finding the right neighborhood, it took a few minutes of them searching for the house.  Mastermind was ready to give up when he heard Arc shout.

“Dad, I found it!”  Arc pointed at the address number lined down from the side of the house with happiness.  It matched the address from the paper they were looking at for the past half hour or so.  He waited for Mastermind to catch up to him before ringing the doorbell with anticipation.

Mastermind looked down at Arc to see that his son was bouncing on his feet.  He hasn’t seen that bright eyed look from Arc since the first day of kindergarten, a sight that made him feel a mixture of happiness and sadness.  What if it turned out that Psych didn’t like Arc or something happened that this would be the only time they meet up?  His muscles tensed the more he thought about the possibilities.    

His son made a few friends in school, but they weren’t long lasting friendships like he would have hoped for.  They were “invite all the classmates” scenarios, not mandatory, but might as well have been because parents did it to avoid making a child feel left behind.  It felt like invitations out of pity and that didn’t sit well with Mastermind.  They weren’t personal, and he had learned over the years that they didn’t mean much to the children themselves when they had their closer friends to be with.  They usually ended with the children sticking to their close friends and leaving Arc sitting by himself.  

“They’re not answering,” Mastermind frowned.  Were they at the wrong house?  Could it be that Psych gave them the wrong address?  It was autumn, so the driveway was covered in leaves when he went to see a car parked outside.  He sneezed when a small leaf fell on his face and snorted.

“I’ll try again,” Arc refused to be discouraged and rang the door a couple of more time before knocking.  The door opened midway through one of his knocks. Arc nearly fell over, but was caught by Mastermind.

Behind the door was a child that managed to be shorter than Arc, who was small for his age.  His white hair was a mess and grinned when he saw Arc and waved.   

That must be Psych, Mastermind thought when he noticed that the child was still in his pajamas – purple ones with cat imprints on them and a pair of cat slippers to match.   

“Who is it?” An older voice floated out of the house, and a man came to the door.

Mastermind did a backtrack at what he thought looked like an older version of Psych.  This man looked like he had just rolled out of his bed.  Like Psych, his white hair was in disarray, standing up all over the place, and he wore only a tank top and a pair of boxers.  The man rubbed his eyes when he squinted at them.  Mastermind’s breath grew short when he got a better look at the man’s face.

It was the guy from the coffee shop!  

Wait, he was Psych’s dad?  Mastermind couldn’t take his eyes away from the man’s face, shocked to see how young he was from the typical parent.  He couldn’t be more than a couple of years older than him.                               

The man yawned, “You’re here early.”

Mastermind glanced at his cell phone’s clock and bit his lip from blurting out, It’s 10:41 in the morning.

He gave Mastermind a tired expression as if to say, Yeah, but it’s Saturday, dumbass, but acknowledged them with a nod and ushered them into the house, closing the door behind him.

As they walked in, Mastermind saw the living room was well lived in.  Stacks of books sat at the coffee table with notebook paper laid out to reveal a child’s drawing that was hard to identify under the dim light.  Occupying at the front of the room, taking up almost half of the wall was a big flat screen TV with the plastic tape still applied to the frames.  A video game console behind the TV cabinet had video games lined up next to it.  He didn’t miss the bookshelf sitting in the corner of the room, many of the books worn out from the binding when Mastermind examined them from afar.     

The man blinked as if he finally noticed the mess and said to Psych, “Why don’t you go change clothes while I show them where to sit?”

Mastermind stared at the sofa cushions on the floor and the blankets sprawled across the wooden floor, “Sit where?”   

Perhaps he was too tired to respond to the sarcasm, but the man went to grab the pillows, tossing them to the sofa and folding the blankets to place it in the storage box that doubled as the coffee table.  Gathering the loose-leaf paper to form into a neat stack, he waved his hand, “Psych and I were up last night trying to finish a game.”

Had this man and his son slept in the living room?  Mastermind was starting to wonder what kind of person let his son stay up late to game, but nodded in understanding.  Once the area was cleared, which didn’t take too long, he and Arc sat on the sofa with the man sitting at the far end of it, opposite of where Mastermind was.

“Oh, I forgot to introduce myself,” the man gave him a lazy grin.  “I’m Lusa, Psych’s dad.  And you must be Arc!”

Arc, who was busy looking at the bookshelf crammed with books with interest, but jumped in his seat when realizing he was being talked to.  He looked up to nod his head at Psyker and turned pink in embarrassment.

“He’s shy,” Mastermind excused his son.  “He’s-“  

“Let him talk,” Psyker stared at him.  “He has a mouth, doesn’t he?”

Mastermind felt the heat traveling up his face and through his ears.  Try as he might, he could not will himself to avoid his cheeks turning pink and looked away.  Who was this guy to interrupt him like that?  He was trying to justify Arc’s actions, wasn’t he?  Or was that wrong and he should have let Arc speak for himself?  Arc was eight years old after all, old enough to be trusted with many things.  He didn’t have to look at Psyker to know that he was being judged.  What was the other thinking?

“Hello,” Arc said in a quiet voice, gripping on the backpack straps, but made eye contact with Psyker with a small smile.   

“Hopefully it won’t take long for Psych to get ready,” Psyker said. “We didn’t think you would come here before noon.”

Mastermind nodded, recalling that the paper did say to meet up at around noon.  Arc wanted to come earlier, but Mastermind also wanted to come along to see what kind of house Psych lived in.

“I’m here!” Psych popped from behind the sofa with his face in between Arc and Mastermind.  The small child wore a t-shirt with a popular video game character that looked like a yellow rabbit (or was that a mouse?) and a pair of shorts going down to his knees.  However, his hair remained spiky and stood up to make him appear taller.  He went over to grab Arc by the arm and laughed, “Let’s play!”

“Not until you eat first,” Psyker chided lightly.  He turned to Mastermind, “Masi, right?  Join us for brunch.”

Mastermind looked at him in surprise at the sound of his own name being said by a stranger he had just met minutes ago.  He and Arc had breakfast earlier, but he knew that wasn’t the right answer.  Psych pouted on the side, but was happy when at the sound of him and Arc joining them for brunch.  Mastermind felt guilt for ever considering that Psych would try to trick Arc into being friends.  What was he thinking?

“How do you know my name?” Mastermind asked.

“You spilled your coffee on me,” Psyker said.  “Your name was on the cup.”  

Of course.

Mastermind forced himself to stop blushing from embarrassment.  It wouldn’t hurt to stay, right?  He wanted to see how Arc would get along with Psych too.  The look Psyker gave him was understanding, as if he knew his internal struggle, but that was ridiculous.  He slowly nodded.

“Great!”  Psyker grinned. “I’m going to go change.  Be sure not to break anything while you’re here.”   

Mastermind couldn’t tell if this man was joking or not.

Arc thought it was funny and giggled at Psyker’s comment.  Well, at least someone found this entertaining!  Mastermind rolled his eyes and started to question if it was a good idea to stick around.

With Psyker gone, Psych and Arc were quick to start a conversation and were talking to each other, something about a new video game.  He saw Psych’s animated eyes move around as he reenacted something from the game with exploding sound effects.  His expression softened when Arc took out a book to explain something to Psych, eager to share with the smaller boy.  Much to his surprise and relief, Psych shared the same enthusiasm, with both talking back and forth at a pace that was hard for Mastermind to keep up with.

When Psyker came back, it was in a t-shirt with the logo of a company and a pair of jeans.  Like Psych, his hair was spiked up.  Compared to Psyker, Mastermind felt like he overdressed with his collared shirt and vest.        

He saw Mastermind sitting by himself and approached him. “Hey, I know we didn’t have a good start today.”

No kidding, Mastermind thought about the spilled coffee or seeing Psyker half-dressed at the front door.  

“I feel bad about you losing your drink,” he scratched the back of his head, a peculiar behavior that was hard to ignore.  “Want to grab coffee sometime?”  

Really?  He looked at Psyker for confirmation, but the other gave him a bright expression, lighting up when Mastermind took his invitation and nodded again.  He tried not to dwell on the idea too much, his ears grew warm again and it was difficult for him to think straight. Mastermind pretended to be interested in joining his son and Psych in the kitchen to help set up the table while Psyker went to prepare the food.  

A coffee date didn’t sound too bad.   

[shop5]

So I think this is my first time writing real fanfic? I don’t know but it’s a post-Rogue One everyone lives AU where Bodhi settles into base life on Yavin and ends up adopting one of the Jedhan refugee children--because happy single dad Bodhi-- also the rest of the crew shows up to help too--

2262 words ll Rated G ll fluff it’s just fluff ll AO3 Link

Bodhi was finishing up his last shift for the day when the shuttle arrived. He’d been working with maintenance helping repair ships and retrofit collected imperial parts into the rebel fighters. He liked his job. They’d been here for nearly a month and he was finally getting used to his new surroundings and getting comfortable with how things were run. Most of the main fighting force had been recently relocated to Hoth and the base on Yavin IV was mostly being used as a way station for repairing ships, medical leave, some intelligence operations were still being run off the moon and most recently it had become a sanctuary for the small numbers of fleeing Jedhan refugees who hadn’t yet found a place to take them in. Some of the unused barracks had been converted to temporary housing and the locals were starting to warm up to their new neighbors. The Rogue One crew might have been permanently grounded but it didn’t bother Bodhi—after everything he was happy for a bit of rest--some of the others seemed restless but even they were settling in a bit.

The shuttle that had just arrived was—as far as anyone knew—the last of the refugees who would be arriving. There were only a handful and they all looked tired. They’d been traveling for weeks in a personal shuttle craft built to comfortably hold about half of the eight people who currently occupied it. A temporary registration booth had been set up on the landing platform and two lieutenants were helping the people fill out forms to give them safe passage to republic territories. Bodhi watched them while he got cleaned up from his shift. One by one the people were let through and guided across the platform to the mess and barracks. Everything seemed to be going smoothly until they came to the last two in line, after a few minutes of desperate shuffling one of the lieutenants spotted him and waved him over. Bodhi looked around to make sure the gesture was aimed at him before finally walking over.

Two older Lorrdian women stood at the table. One held several bags the other held a baby and they both looked frazzled. Almost as frazzled as the lieutenant who was trying desperately to understand what they were saying. He looked up at Bodhi. “I can’t make heads or tails of it—”

Most of the refugees had spoken basic but there was the occasion when they didn’t. Bodhi listened carefully to what they were trying to say and reassured them he understood. They were speaking Jedhan but with a heavy Lorrdian accent. He nodded and listened to their whole story before turning back to the lieutenant at the table.

“She says that, they were on one of the last crafts off the moon, um—her and her wife. She says the baby is not theirs—that there wasn’t room for her mother but her mother pleaded and they took the baby. She says she heard there was a foster program here, that they are not prepared to take care of the child and they want us to find her a good home—“ The Lorrdian woman put her hand on his arm, said something else and Bodhi nodded. She handed the baby over to Bodhi who took her gently.  “She wants to make sure you know that the baby is—to the best of their knowledge, human.”  

“Why would that matter?” said the Lieutenant absently, bringing up the forms on his datapad.

“It would matter to the empire,” Bodhi muttered. It was still strange how little the people here seemed to consider what life was like for normal people under imperial flags—they seemed to forget most people from occupied territories didn’t want anything to do with imperials and that not everyone who worked for the empire had a choice in it—he’d gotten into several fights over that fact since he’d gotten here.  

The lieutenant helped the women with the rest of the work for their visas bringing up the Jedhan version of the forms to make things run smoother. Bodhi smiled down at the baby in his arms—a cute round thing with a smattering of freckles and a soft tuft of dark hair. She smiled up at him and one of the women remarked how she hadn’t seen the baby do that the whole trip. That fact made Bodhi smile more and he lifted one of his hands to let the baby play with his fingers. It all felt like second nature and she reminded him of his little sister.

On good days, he still liked to imagine the rest of his family had managed to find a safe place somewhere.

When the forms were filled out and recorded the women were escorted away by the second lieutenant but not before handing Bodhi a small bag with a few the baby’s things—from her mother one of them had said. The bag was handmade probably from an old canvas tank cover judging by the material—after years of imperial occupation the people of Jedha had become resourceful in how they crafted things.  The bag had Amilah in Jedhan embroidered in red thread on the front. He repeated the name and the baby squirmed and clapped. Bodhi smiled.  

The Lieutenant sitting at the desk pulled up the list of fosters still available—it was a short list. “I really hope that is the last of them—we’re running out of room. How old do you reckon she is?”

Bodhi barely registered anyone talking. He looked up. “Oh, can’t be more than a year? Maybe a year and a half?”  

The lieutenant shook his head. “That won’t do all these are slated for older children.” He drummed his fingers on the desk. “I wonder how full the nursery is?”

Bodhi hesitated. “I could take her.”

The lieutenant raised an eyebrow. “You?”

“Yes. I have a room I’m stationed here permanently now—”

The lieutenant brought up a new file and started typing in information. Bodhi’s heart was racing a little he wasn’t sure if he was prepared for this or why he had said he’d do it but it felt like the right thing to do.

“Are you single?” said the lieutenant.

Bodhi hesitated. “Well yes but…I know how to take care of children I had several younger siblings—I’m sure base commander Andor would vouch—“

The lieutenant held up his hand. “Relax, son. I just need to mark it down. Your reputation speaks for itself.”

“Oh—yes. Sorry.” Bodhi looked back down at the baby.

The lieutenant waved a hand. “Not something you have to be sorry for. What’s her name?”

“Amilah,” Bodhi said. He typed in the information and entered it.

“Well congratulations, Captain Rook,” he said in a tired voice. “Take her to medical, have her checked over—barring any problems they should give you some things to take care of her.”

Bodhi adjusted the bag over his shoulder and carried Amilah close to his chest as he made his way over to the med bay. He was mentally making a note of all the things he’d need to get for the baby. Some sort of carrier was definitely near the top of that list she kept squirming around to look at her new surroundings. “Shh shh, Amilah, we’re almost there,” he said quietly. She seemed to pay attention when he spoke and she reached up to tug at his beard. He chuckled.

When they got to the medbay he signed them in at the front and went to take a seat. He noticed Baze sitting outside one of the rooms and looking distracted so he walked over to him.

“Hey,” Bodhi said. “Is everything alright?”

Baze looked surprised to hear him and shook his head. “I am fine Chirrut broke his stitches open again because I am married to a child.”

“I can hear you, you know.” Bodhi heard Chirrut shout muffled through the wall.

Baze rolled his eyes. “He was showing off for some local kids and he fell—”

“I was teaching them self-defense!” Came Chirrut’s voice again.

“You are a crazy old man—and you are doing nothing but teaching those kids bad habits.”

Bodhi could hear Chirrut laughing through the wall. The baby in his arms crawled over to Baze and Baze seemed to notice her for the first time.

“Hello there little one,” Baze scooped her up and Bodhi watched them. “Who is this?” Baze glanced over at Bodhi. The baby laughed and clapped her hands again.

“Her name’s Amilah—she came with the others today, on the shuttle? I’m going to be caring for her now, I suppose.”

Baze brightened a bit. “Hello Amilah it is nice to have you join our family.” The baby reached out her hands for Bodhi and Baze passed her back. “She has certainly taken a shine to you already.”

Bodhi picked her up. “I hardly know what I’m doing.”

Baze clapped him on the shoulder. “You are a natural I’m sure she will be very happy and you have all of us to help.”

Before Bodhi could open his mouth to say anything else the nurse and a med droid were waving them over. He said a quick goodbye to Baze and went to the exam room. He’d never been fond of medical—anything, but Amilah was surprisingly calm through the ordeal. Her vitals all came back fine and after a quick booster she was given a clean bill of health and okayed to leave. The nurse directed him to the PX to pick up a care package they’d been giving out to refugee families with all the essentials you need to start off she’d said, which he gratefully accepted. He picked up a soft cloth carrier while he was there and set her gently in it so he could carry her and the box of supplies back to his room

By the time he got back he was worn out, Amilah had fallen asleep on the way there and he laid her on the bed so she could rest. His room was small but serviceable—it was still bigger than anything he’d had in his time with the empire. He had a trunk for his things, some cabinets a hot plate, running water and the bathroom was right up the hall. There was room for a second bed but he hoped by the time Amilah was old enough to need one he could find an off-campus house to live in.

He sat on the floor next to the bed and started going through the box he’d gotten from the PX. Two sets of sturdy clothes, some reusable nappies, two bottles, packets of formula, some soft food and a blanket. There were instructions on how the box could be made into a makeshift bed and he decided it would work until he could make something more substantial. In the bag the Lorrdian women had given him he found a holotape and what appeared to be her mother’s engagement ring. He carefully replaced the items and put the bag in the top cabinet for safe keeping.  After rearranging some things, he set up the baby’s bed near his own and carefully put the other things away. When that was done he sat down by the bed again watching Amilah sleep until—without realizing it, he dozed off himself.

---

Bodhi woke a few hours later with Amilah poking at his face and babbling and a knock on the door. “Just a minute!” he said, quickly pulling himself together, he picked the baby up to answer.

“Oh she’s adorable can I hold her?” Was the first thing out of Jyn’s mouth when he opened the door. They were all standing there.

He looked at Baze who shrugged. “It’s seems Chirrut can’t keep his mouth shut even when I tell him to—I’m sorry if we’ve disturbed you.”

Chirrut patted Baze’s chest lightly with the back of his hand and scoffed. “He has a baby, Baze and babies are meant to be celebrated—we’ve brought dumplings, Baze made them, they are delicious.”

“I don’t know what to say. Um,” Bodhi gestured to the baby. “This is Amilah.” Bodhi smiled and looked around he was happy to see his friends. He passed Amilah over to Jyn and she held him so Cassian could get a better look. It was still strange seeing Cassian in uniform but he wore the base commander bars well. They all stepped out into the common area to have more room. Bodhi only went back inside to retrieve some of the soft food for Amilah. When he got back everyone was already sitting on the floor playing with the baby. He stood back and watched them for a few seconds feeling very warm inside. Amilah seemed over joyed at the attention and even K-2 seemed less grumpy then he usually was.

When he came over to sit down the baby crawled right over to him. Bodhi gave her a piece of the soft fruit and she babbled happily. They spent the rest of the evening eating the good food that Baze had prepared, talking about the baby and taking turns holding her. When Bodhi finally returned to his room with her that night he was feeling much more confident about his decision to take her. He waited until she had fallen asleep again before getting into bed and finally getting some real sleep himself.