#just him finally being able to show off what he can do academically after winter break and starting off that rivalry for real just

[junowritings]

ABSOLUTELY OBSSESSED WITH THIS ACADEMIC RIVALS FOR THE WIN. This entire piece is so damn cute and ngl the idea of the prefect being able to just coast through all the exams without even studying and everyone just being like how??? was funny to imagine lmao

hello :) may i request scenarios of a reader who is the prefect of ramshackle, so from another world, who immediately starts excelling in their classes-

catch is, they seem to never be studying and they’re very laid back, but they still get top grades (higher or even as high as riddle/azul)

with riddle, azul, deuce and whoever else seems very,,, academically competitive

i’m such a sucker for the academic rivals trope, especially when one of them is trying so hard while the other seems to not try at all

thank you :) i love your works <33

AHH ACADEMIC RIVALS!! YES!

Writing these reminds me of all the studies I can do on these characters,, maybe when I have some time I'll sit down and write out fully fledged one shots about them,,,,,

and TYSM!!! Thank you for reading!!! :)))) <<3333

Slight TW: Hints of abuse and bullying (not fully described, but hinted at)

Riddle:

-I don't think he would mind too much

-You're oddly smart for being from another world, and you don't need to spend time studying? Goof for you

-That means he doesn't have to spend countless hours tutoring ADeuce, right?

-He's actually quite thankful that you're around to keep those in his dorm up to the standards he holds

-He is a little jealous that you don't have to spend hours hunched over a desk studying, but he tries to brush it off to the best of his ability 

-That is, until you surpass him in exams

-He's not so low as to try to sabotage you, but he cant deny the envy that runs through his veins

-How? You were from another world. If anything, you should have the disadvantage. He goes back to his dorm, vanishing into his room to study more to make sure that he gets above you next time

-He finds himself making excuses as to why you were so smart. Perhaps your world was similar? Maybe you were getting extra notes or amended lessons due to your circumstances? Perhaps you had some sort of magic or trick that allowed you to see the answers for the tests?!

-He can't get you out of his head

-Eventually he tries to bring it up casually, the bite in his tone enough of an indication what was happening. Of course, you tease him and explain that you never needed to study

-As someone who spent most of his life studying, he's baffled. He was intelligent, sure, but he was trained to be and you... weren't

-Eventually he can't stop thinking about you and your words. At some point or another, he finds himself looking forward to seeing your name so high up, the jealousy slowly dissipating. When they switch places, his name on top, yours on top the next, his, yours, his, yours. 

-He found himself staring at the two names, accidentally reading off your first name paired with his

-(Name) Rosehearts

-His face flushes and he scurries away from the board, away from Trey calling out for him, confused as to why his Dorm Leader had run off despite getting the highest score. 

-He was inexperienced, but he was not naïve. He knew what feelings he had developed for you.

-And he was sweating, losing his mind. This was not supposed to happen at all. 

The redheaded boy practically collapses next to you on the couch in Heartslabyul's common room, despite trying to make it appear dignified. You chuckle, putting your phone down as he sighs, pinching at the bridge of his nose. 

"Tough day?" You question him, sitting back as he unclips the crown from his hair and holds it in his lap, running his gloved thumbs over the sleek surface. 

"Absolutely. Can you control those two for once?" Laughing, you go to fix the piece of hair that had been displaced from the crown, making Riddle stiffen. You notice and pull your hands back, as if burned. 

"I-I'm sorry," You mumble. "Touching, right...Right."

Riddle frowns, swallowing the embarrassed lump that formed in his throat. He longed to feel your warmth, to feel your soft touches holding his face in both your hands, wiping his stressed tears away with your thumbs after a long day. To curl into your chest, arms wrapped around your waist and hold you close late at night rather than sleeping alone in his cold bed. To kiss you when you two part for classes, to hold your hand at each and every Unbirthday party, to hug you close, bury his face in the crook of your neck and to never, ever let go. 

You gave him a hug once. 

He'd recoiled and snapped, being unused to the affection. It was stifling to him, a realization that made him cry softly into his pillow that night. You promised to not touch him again, well aware of what he'd been through. 

"You can..." He mumbles, shaky hand reaching for your own, the butterflies now creeping through his entire system, making his stomach turn as if he was sick and his head all fuzzy. His face was a bright red as he inched his shaking, gloved hand forward. You nod, resting your hand on top of his own. 

"Is this good?" 

He nodded, despite feeling that familiar, claustrophobic feeling rise in his chest. 

"We can stop," You went to take your hand away from his and he shakes his head. 

"Keep it," He says much too quickly, stumbling over his words. "Please."

You nod, and Riddle knows that this little bit of overwhelming warmth is not nearly enough for now. He still longs to hold you, to have you hold him. 

But for now, your hand over his was enough.  

Deuce Spade:

-He was so thankful to have you as a friend. 

-He didn't think he was too jealous until he saw that you just... never had to study

-He was a little upset, honestly. 

-I mean, spending hours upon hours trying to understand a single concept that most people learned in middle school? Countless days hunched over a desk and staring at a problem until frustrated tears spill from his eyes?

-And you can just... do it. No effort involved. No struggling at all and you're practically outranking his own Dorm Head....

-He tries not to hold it against you, but he can't fight the feeling of resentment seeing your perfect test scores, and then watching you do practically nothing before the day of the test

-Unlike the other three, I think he would actually have a talk with you about it.

-You're one of his closest friends, and he hates the feeling of annoyance that grows in his heart whenever test season rolls around

-He asks for your help, or at least for tricks to pick up the information better

-He's so earnest that you can't find it in you to tease him

-So you study. And you study for hours, at every opportunity. You want him to succeed, especially after seeing his excited reaction when he got a 90 on a potions exam

-Flash cards, listening exercises...

-Deuce felt overwhelmed by the amount of effort you put into helping him, how you would often turn down plans with other friends to help him, the amount of money you would spend on materials to help him keep up, how you wouldn't give up on him, even when he snapped a few times in frustration (and then proceeded to apologize profusely)

-Ace pointed it out. Deuce had crushes before, but none of them were so... intense. He had thought you were attractive at first, and then as you two grew closer those feelings grew as well. Seeing how far you were willing to go for him was what made him decide that he had to do something

"Prefect!" He practically shouts, running and pushing past the other students in the hallway. "I did it!" 

"You did?!" You shout excitedly. He nods, a grin on is face. He holds up a slightly crinkled paper, reading '100' at the top. 

He had struggled the most with history, you both knew that. He never got anything above a 70 on one of Trein's tests. You smile and laugh, pulling him in for a hug, bouncing up and down and making the boy jump too, albeit a little embarrassed to be doing so in the middle of a crowded hallway. 

He can't help but wrap his arms around your shoulders, holding you close for a few moments, feeling your warmth through both of your uniforms. A warmth he'd felt many times before, and a warmth he will never get enough of. You would bump against his leg during sleepovers, play fight with him, play with his hair and style it in ways that you thought were hilarious. 

He loved every second of it. 

"Deuce?" He didn't realize you had stopped jumping and that he had been holding you for a moment, quickly backing away with a flushed face. 

"Sorry! I got a little excited," He chuckles nervously, meeting your eyes and grinning. 

"I'm so proud of you!" There it was. His face went alight as he looked away, stammering muffled 'thank you's and 'it's because you helped's. "Come on, let's celebrate! Floyd gave Ace a bunch of vouchers for Mostro because he kicked his ass at practice!"

Deuce smiles and links his arm in yours, looking down at you as you tell some story about your friend and the eel, unconsciously squeezing your arm a little tighter. 

"Thank you, (Name)."

Azul:

-I think he would be the most bothered by it

-He spent most of his life being told that he was dumb, and now he finally had physical proof that he was among the smartest in his school. He could wave those ranking paper in the air, pin them to his wall, do anything to them but at least they were there. At least he could see that he was not dumb

-And then you came along. And he was no longer at the top of the class. 

-He was now second best in the class

-While he had no problem being second best, as least, not as much of a problem as many in the school would have, it still hurt

-Especially knowing that you did practically nothing to get where you were

-He worked his (metaphorical) mer-ass off, days of perfecting his magic and his craft, of finding any way to get ahold of the best notes to get the best scores

-And then this magicless student strolls along and gets to be in the top of the class

-He tries to find out your tricks, sending the twins after you. They come back and report that you literally do... nothing. You go to class, listen to the lectures, then go home and do something else. No notes, no reviewing, nothing.

-He was already peeved, brainstorming ways to distract you enough to bomb at least one exam

-Nothing ever worked.   

-When you outsmarted him during his overblot? His self-esteem plummeted

-You felt bad and so, you offered to help him repair the dorm

-He vehemently denied, not wanting to feel as if he was your own little charity. The more you two talked, the more you helped him find out new promotions and deals for the lounge, he'd decided that you were simply kind

-He fell for you instantly

You two sit on the couch in the lounge, with Azul leaning against the side, paperwork balanced on a clipboard resting on the arm of the couch. He taps his pen to his lips a few times, eyebrows furrowed on his forehead as his lips rest against the end. He shed his coat and tie, trying to find a smidge of comfort despite not being in his pyjamas like he'd liked. The clock read 11:46 pm, and the poor boy still had a pile of paperwork to go through. 

"Need help?"

"No thanks..." He sighs, pushing his glasses up to his forehead and pinching the bridge of his nose, sighing. He reaches for his glasses and curses to himself. You look over, noticing the intense smudges on the lenses, likely from his ungloved hands. You watch as he fumbles to untuck the end of his dress shirt to wipe them off and you slowly take them, wiping them down with one of the actual lens cloths you'd learned to carry around upon seeing how often he smudged them- proof of his inexperience with things on his face all the time. 

You wipe them down, holding them up to the light every once in a while as Azul continues to scribble away, reaching out and sliding the paper on the desk before moving on to the next. You mumble his name, breaking the silence as he turns to you. You push his tousled hair out of his eyes, making him gulp as heat rises to his face at the tenderness and affection held in the action. 

You slowly slip the glasses onto his face and the mer allowed his eyes to close for a moment as to not see how close your faces had gotten. He didn't need to see you to feel your warm breath fan across his cheeks. Your hands rest on the sides of his face for a moment and he can't find it in him to open his eyes, despite how his mind is screaming at him to just do it. That this is what he was waiting for this entire time.

You were so, so heartbreakingly gentle with him. So gentle that it made him want to melt into your arms and never leave. It was a kindness he had only received from his mother and grandmother, nobody else had ever dared to get go close to him in such a way, only pulling at his limbs despite his panicked pleas. 

He opened his eyes once you pulled away, looking back down at his paperwork. You lay back on the couch, your legs over his lap as he watches you mumble what he assumes to be a 'goodnight' and closing your eyes, drifting off to sleep due to the late hour. 

He smiles, resting his hand on your knee as his other continues to write, listening to your even breaths as he takes his glasses off, lightly tossing his things to the desk and leaning his head back, following you into a deep, well-needed sleep. 

Jamil:

-He was resentful of you at first

-That could be him at the top if he didn't have to constantly limit himself. He worked hard, he studied harder, he was supposed to be the one at the top of the leaderboard

-Instead he always had to keep his test scores a little below Kalim's which put him in the lower half of the grade despite how bright he was

-That was a fact he could accept

-But learning that you were a magicless student from another world and still at the top of the class

-He was intrigued, and incredibly jealous that you were able to flaunt your abilities

-He ignored you, knowing that he shouldn't bother, that he couldn't be at the top no matter how hard he tried.

-That is, until after winter break

-He began to show how much he could do, quickly rising to the top alongside you. He was at the top for a moment, going head to head with you and your near perfect test scores. Despite everything he had done, he believed that that he could beat you once and for all

-He blamed it on not having enough time to study. You were busy with Crowley, sure, but did you have to arrange parties every other night? Did you have to cook for said parties? Clean up the entire dorm afterwards? He didn't think so

-You were still kind to him despite his visible irritation with you. You would offer to help him clean up

-He would tell you that he was capable of doing it himself, but you insisted every single time. What did you have to gain? Were you trying to find more dirt to dig up on him? Were you working with Azul? He didn't trust you one bit

-You got closer during the VDC, and he found himself able to relax around you more ,to freely laugh at your jokes

-He knew he was falling for you, but was unable to admit it, fighting back these feelings

-He didn't want to drag you into a life of servitude, a life forced to be less than what you are solely because of who you serve

-You pushed, and he backed up. You pushed. He backed up more. 

-It got to the point where you could no longer push, and he was against a wall

"It's not too bad this time," You say offhandedly, scrubbing away at a particular stain on one of the dishes that won't leave. Jamil hums monotonously, drying off the dishes and whisking them away to their proper places in the kitchen. It was the night after one of Scarabia's infamous parties. Most of the students were either back in their rooms or asleep in the common room, and both of you knew that you would have to go around and wake them up, sending them to their proper places so you could clean up for the next day. 

The night air in the dorm was chilly. Of course, there was a spell that regulated the dorm's temperature, but it seemed as if most of the residents were okay with the extreme heat in the day being balanced with the extreme cold. You shiver, pushing your arms further into the warm water that spilled from the faucet. 

You hear a snicker from beside you and you turn to pout at the boy, who shrugs. 

"How does it feel to be the cold one for once?"

"Not funny," You deadpan.

"Serves you right for making fun of me in the snow."

"It was one time," You argue, handing him another cleaned plate. He smirks and pauses, dropping the plate and pulling his sweatshirt over his head, revealing his worn t-shirt underneath. You scrunch your nose and he frowns. 

"What?"

"You wear something under your hoodie?" He flushes and shoves the fabric into your arms. 

"You don't?!"

"No?"

"That's dumb," He puts away the plate, holding out his hand for the next dish and sighing when you're still in the same spot that you were, staring at him blankly. 

"It's a normal shirt?"

"What if you get too hot?" He retorts, rolling his eyes. 

"Then you roll up the sleeves!" You laugh and put on the sweatshirt, feeling the lingering warm cover your entire torso. "This is nice."

He stays silent, busying himself with the rest of the dishes. He hoped that you wouldn't notice the slight quiver of his hands or how he fought the urge to glance back at you, biting the inside of his cheeks as he put the rest of them away. 

He was stronger than this. He had to hide his emotions from the very start, put on a nonchalant mask. How dare you break it so easily? He huffs, lost in his own thoughts. You smile. 

"You can have it back, you know?"

"No," He says quickly, smirking and walking towards you slowly, pulling the hoodie up and over your head, trailing his warm, calloused fingers down your cheeks, you gasp as you feel him trace his hands along your jawline. 

Truthfully, he was trying to hide his own expression. His determination to mess with you outweighed the butterflies in his stomach. He licked his lips, leaning in further as his hands rested on the sweatshirt, knuckles brushing the nape of your neck. You sighed and he chuckled, leaning in until your noses were nearly touching. 

And he grabbed the strings.

And yanked as hard as he could, tying them together deftly and laughing as you yelped and scrambled to untie yourself.

"Damn you, Viper!"

He laughs loudly, turning on his heel to leave the room and waving (not that you could see it).

"You can figure that out," He walks out the doorway. "I still have cleaning to do."

He was going to tell you someday, yes. But he was going to make sure that he could control his heart around you first. He'll settle with playing for you for now.

[tennessoui]

when is anakin going to get his revenge and kiss divorced obi-wan back

yes hello this got out of hand and the best moment would be in the hypothetical part two but here is a KUWSK directly post kiss from Anakin's pov. For context, this snippet and this snippet probablllyyyy should be read?

(2.8k, ffs @ kit)

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself after he drops the kids off at school and starts making the drive back home. His hands are tight on the wheel. He’s been trying to think about something else--anything else ever since it happened, but his mind refuses to let go of that moment.

He’s replayed it so many times in the last hour and a half that it doesn’t even feel like an actual memory anymore, just a combination of sensations.

The chill of the almost winter morning that made the hair on his arms stick up. The tacky feeling in his mouth because he had slept a bit later than he had wanted to and didn’t have time to brush his teeth if he wanted to make breakfast before the kids and Obi-Wan left.

The woodsy-spiced smell of Obi-Wan’s cologne, stronger than normal. They’d been standing closer together than normal too, but it had been so early and Obi-Wan’s mind had obviously been miles away.

Anakin had been saying something stupid, something that didn’t mean anything, and Obi-Wan had replied and then Obi-Wan had leaned in and kissed him, full on the mouth. His beard had felt so soft against Anakin’s skin, his lips even softer, if a bit chapped.

Had they been chapped? Now Anakin can’t remember, he’s turned this memory over in his head so often. It had been for less than a handful of seconds. A quick brush of lips, a taste of a life Anakin has dreamt about for well over a year now. And Obi-Wan had just turned and left, as if he hadn’t done anything extraordinary. As if he hadn’t just kissed Anakin on the porch for everyone to see.

Obi-Wan would never be that cruel on purpose. Perhaps to that one profesor who always tries to refute Obi-Wan’s papers, but not to Anakin.

Which means Obi-Wan hadn’t been thinking. He had been perhaps caught up in the domesticity of it all, of having someone wish him luck and see him off. And maybe Anakin has been doing something like that for the last two years, but there’s a person who did that for Obi-Wan for much longer. A person they ran into at the park just two days ago.

“He was thinking about Satine,” Anakin tells himself as he gets out of the car and unlocks the house. He tries desperately to keep the despair and jealousy out of his voice, but at least no one’s around. It’s not that he hates the woman or anything. Really, he doesn’t. He doesn’t understand her, but that’s a given.

He’d never have Obi-Wan’s heart and soul and throw it away. He’d never get tired of fighting with Obi-Wan if he was fighting to stay with the man. He’d never be able to run into him at a park and then just leave again as if seeing him stirred up nothing inside of him.

Seeing Obi-Wan always stirs things up inside of Anakin. It makes no sense that Satine, who had had Obi-Wan’s love--knew all those things about the man that Anakin did not and could not know as just his housemate--had just been satisfied with saying hello and then just as quickly goodbye.

The same cold sinking feeling that Anakin’s been trying to shake off for the last two and a half days returns, and he has to lean against the countertop in the kitchen for a second to ground himself.

They’re going to get back together. They will.

At the park, they had seemed so in their own world, as if everything else had disappeared except for them. Anakin had had to send Luke over, couldn’t stand watching that reconnection happen without at least trying to remind Obi-Wan that he has a family now, that he’s not alone anymore, that there are people who love him.

Obi-Wan had glared at him for his meddling, which hadn’t admittedly done wonders to his confidence. And when Obi-Wan had deposited Luke--Luke--on the ground to chase after Satine, when he had hugged her, Anakin knew for sure.

They were going to lose him.

Anakin had had his set of chances and had taken none of them, and now Obi-Wan’s going to re-fall in love with his ex-wife and Anakin’s going to have to be the supportive best friend who has to figure out how to tell his children that due to unforeseen and tragic circumstances, their Obi is probably going to elope to Paris and maybe send a postcard once or twice a year addressed solely to the children and Anakin will grow old and die alone and the name Obi-Wan Kenobi will be banned from his small, shadowy apartment, and all Anakin will have is a few memories of the two most important and heart wrenching kisses he’s ever been a part of in his entire life.

“He was thinking about Satine,” he tells himself. “He kissed me but it wasn’t about me. It hasn’t ever been about me.”

There’s no denying that Obi-Wan loves Anakin’s children and also no denying that his children love Obi-Wan. Anakin thinks he wouldn’t love Obi-Wan half as much if he hadn’t absolutely been charmed by the kids and vice versa. But he had been. They had been. Those few weeks when Anakin had thought about leaving a year ago had been absolutely awful because he knew he would be breaking his twins’ hearts, not just his. He’d be hurting Obi-Wan too, he had known that.

But he had had to try. Because he knew that if he didn’t try to leave then he’d have to be dragged kicking and screaming out of Obi-Wan’s life when it came time for the man to grow tired of his presence.

It had been a last ditch attempt at saving his dignity. And it hadn’t taken much argument from everyone else to get him to abandon the idea completely.

Now he can’t help but to think he should have put his foot down, gotten some distance. Because now he’s entrenched in Obi-Wan’s world, the same way Obi-Wan is entrenched in his and the twins’ world. Leaving now will feel like ripping himself in two. He’ll probably wake up in the middle of the night five years from now and wonder about the academic response to Obi-Wan’s most recent publication.

He’ll probably have read it. He’ll probably still be fielding questions from his kids’ friends’ parents about whatever happened to that handsome man that used to come in to help during Show-And-Tell Day? Do you remember who I’m talking about, Anakin?

If he had left then, the idea of leaving now wouldn’t hurt so much. But there’s a ticking clock in his head.

Obi-Wan kissed him.

But he was thinking about Satine.

He calls Padme, because that’s sort of what he does when he doesn’t know what to do. She’s never turned him away--with the rejected marriage proposal being the one glaring exception, of course.

Thankfully, she doesn’t start now, though she does sound a little stressed when she picks up.

“Hey,” he says trying to sound normal and as if he isn’t a few minutes alone with his thoughts away from crying like a baby.

“Ani?”

“Are you--are you busy? Something sort of happened.”

“My flight is boarding,” Padme admits, but there’s a rustle on the other end of the line like she’s just sat down. “But it’s not like I’m not assigned a seat. They won’t leave without me. What happened?”

Anakin smiles in spite of himself. She’s really just such an angel of a person.

“Are the children alright?” she asks, sounding worried the longer it takes for Anakin to respond. “Ani?”

“No, yeah, the children are fine. I dropped them off at school this morning. But. Um.” He takes a deep breath. “Obi-Wankissedme.”

“I’m sorry?” Padme asks.

“Obi-Wan kissed me.”

The other end of the line is silent. “And we’re calling this a problem now?” she asks faintly. “Is he a bad kisser?”

“He’s a great kisser,” Anakin defends, shifting awkwardly on his feet, catching sight of the fridge door and quickly turning away.

“Then I don’t…?” Padme trails off uncertainly. Anakin can understand this confusion. Padme has only had to hear about how much Anakin wants Obi-Wan to kiss him for about two years now.

“I don’t think he realized he did it,” Anakin confesses. “He just did it as he was leaving. Because I said goodbye. It--I don’t think he realized who he was kissing.”

Now Padme sounds a distinct mix of skeptical and sympathetic, a tone Anakin’s only ever heard her use with him. “What makes you say that?”

“Because--because we went to the park the other day and he ran into his ex-wife and they were together for, for years so--so obviously he just--he wasn’t--it wasn’t me he was kissing. He was thinking about Satine.”

The words sound dull and practiced and lifeless.

“Oh, Anakin,” Padme says.

“And they’re probably gonna get back together, and we’re going to have to leave, and he’ll never know that I--” Anakin cuts himself off and thunks his head on the countertop with a groan.

Padme hums disbelievingly. “Anakin, I know you’ve never believed me when I say this, but that man is gone over you. And I think if he kissed you long enough for you to tell me for certain that he’s a good kisser, then he definitely knew he was kissing you.”

Anakin bites his lip and debates the pros and cons of being completely truthful. But he had called Padme for help, and she can’t provide the best advice if she doesn’t know the full story.

“That’s not the first time he’s kissed me,” Anakin finally admits, rubbing bashfully at the back of his neck.

“What?” Padme exclaims, probably much louder than appropriate for a public space. “Anakin Skywalker, explain yourself right now.”

He exhales forcefully. “Last New Year’s Eve party.”

“That was almost a year ago! And nothing else ever happened between you two? What? We always thought that once the first kiss was out of the way we’d need to beat you both with sticks to keep you off each other.”

“Well--wait, who’s we?”

Padme tsks. “Myself and Obi-Wan’s coworker.”

“You’ve been gossiping about me?” Anakin asks, torn between being flabbergasted and offended.

“That’s not important right now,” Padme says airily. “What’s important here is the fact that you apparently kissed Obi-Wan Kenobi and never told me?”

“He doesn’t remember, okay?” Anakin snaps. “He. We’d been drinking. A lot. It was after everyone left. And. I was in the kitchen and he was in the kitchen and he--”

--had pinned him to the front of the fridge and just looked at Anakin for a few seconds like he was the most precious, important thing in the entire world, and Anakin had opened his mouth to say something and Obi-Wan had--

“--kissed me,” Anakin says out loud. “And then he--”

He had pressed impossibly closer to Anakin, one hand wrapped around his hip, caressing the thin skin there while his other hand ghosted down Anakin’s hair and back as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted to touch, as his tongue mapped out Anakin’s mouth for what could have been seconds or minutes, and Anakin could have stayed there forever, but his own hands had grabbed too tightly onto Obi-Wan’s shoulders, must have jerked him forward too roughly, because he had been pushed away and--

“--threw up in the kitchen sink,” he finishes.

There’s dead silence on the other end of the line before Padme bursts out laughing. “Okay, okay,” she says once she’s calmed down. “But how do you know for sure he forgot about that? Sounds like something he might just never want to talk about if it ended up with him vomiting in the kitchen.”

“I just know,” Anakin promises. And he does. Obi-Wan had no idea about that kiss. It was a secret Anakin thought about too often, but one he had kept to himself for nearly a year, too afraid to reveal it to Obi-Wan only for the man to say he hadn’t meant to, it hadn’t meant anything, he’d been much too drunk.

Even the idea of Obi-Wan apologizing for one of the hottest kisses Anakin’s ever experienced in his life has been enough to keep Anakin silent on the matter.

But now he’s been kissed again, this time by a sober Obi-Wan, and it still--it still doesn’t mean anything.

“It didn’t mean anything to him then, or he would have remembered,” Anakin tells Padme. “And this one doesn’t mean anything either. The timing is just...it can’t be a coincidence, Padme. He’s never once thought about kissing me, about...about coming home to me like that, and now, a few days after he runs into his ex-wife he’s suddenly planting one on me as he walks out the door? I know--I know you think he...he might...he might have liked me, or...or wanted me, but. There’s no way I can hold a candle to a decades long marriage. I just. I can’t compete with that. He doesn’t want me to.”

Padme’s Anakin is cut off on her end by what sounds like a flight attendant. “Yes, I’m coming,” Padme tells the person, and there’s shuffling and then the distinct sound of the harsh beep of the ticket scanner, before Padme’s heels are clicking on the flight tunnel. “Do not rush me,” Padme tells someone. “What are you going to do, close this thing while I’m in it?”

Anakin has to hide his only sort of watery smile in his hand as he listens quietly on his end.

“Anakin?” Padme asks, and she must be on the plane because there’s a buzz of other people’s noises around her. “Anakin, I know you won’t believe me, and maybe--maybe you’re right and they’ll get back together, maybe you’re going to lose him.” Anakin’s heart hurts quite painfully at these words. “But do you remember what you did the first time you proposed to me and I said no?”

Great, yeah. Just bring up all his biggest failures in love. Sure, why start with Padme? When Anakin had been five he had tried to kiss a boy and been shoved into the mud for his efforts. That’s a fine place to begin, really. Just drag up all the old hurts. He sighs. “I went and got you a bigger ring.”

“And do you remember what you did when I told you that I couldn’t raise the children, but my parents wanted to?”

“I threatened to take them to court if they didn’t let me have them,” Anakin says. It hadn’t been his proudest moment, of course, but Padme’s parents had never really liked him. They still don’t.

Someone’s trying to talk to Padme on the other end of the line. “Yes, fine,” she snaps. “Anakin. Anakin, what I’m trying to say is I’ve never seen you give up on anything without at least trying to fight for it. And I don’t know why this should be different. You won’t be able to live with yourself if you have to watch him get back together with his ex-wife and know you never even tried to tell him he had other options.”

Anakin opens and closes his mouth, speechless. “Then what--”

“So go,” Padme cuts him off. “Go tell him he has other options! For fuck’s sake, yes, alright I’m getting off the phone. Anakin, when I land I expect to have a very detailed account of events waiting for me on my email. Goodbye.”

She hangs up. Anakin stares at the phone in his hand for a handful of seconds, thinking over what she’s said. What she’s implied.

She’s right, of course. Anakin never gives in this easily. He doesn’t fully understand why he’s so ready to capitulate now. Maybe he knows full-well he can’t compete with whatever Obi-Wan had with his ex-wife. They have history. They grew up together, became adults together. Anakin’s just this weird twenty-eight year old man with a pair of kids too old for his age who crashed at Obi-Wan’s house during the lowest moment of his life. Of maybe both of their lives.

Love can’t bloom from that. Not really. Not...not the sort of love that turns into a lifelong marriage.

But. Padme’s right. He wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he doesn’t try. If he doesn’t know for sure.

So either he could putter around the house all day waiting for Obi-Wan to text or call or come home, talking himself into and out of confessing every emotion he’s harbored for the man for the past two years, or….or he could drive to his campus and confront him in his office, put himself on the execution block and hand Obi-Wan the axe. At least it would be a quick death.

He glances at the digital clock on the oven. 9:38. The idea of waiting ten hours for a resolution makes his skin crawl.

And besides. 

Obi-Wan hadn’t packed a lunch.

[andilovetowrite]

Enemies (To) and Girlfriends

NPeter Parker x Stark!Reader

Summary: Peter and Y/N are at each other’s throats all day. Every minute of every hour of every day. They hate each other. For whatever reason, these two brilliant minds absolutely despise the other one. At least, that’s what everyone believes.

Warnings: Suggestiveness and some bad words. Lots of fluff though

Here is my Masterlist in case you want to find more of my work :)

For as long as anyone can remember, you and Peter had hated each other. Well, hate is a strong word. You both had a mutual dislike for each other, and as years went by, the status of your relationship skyrocketed from people who can’t talk to each other, to people who can’t stop screaming at each other. You two had been friends for years when you were younger. But when Peter was recruited for Spiderman 6 years ago by your dad, you couldn’t help but hate his decision. It was a dangerous life, and you didn’t want him to be on the field. You’d rather have him safely tucked away in his room, where May could keep an eye on him, and he could have sandwiches with Ned.

Unfortunately, he thought the same thing for you. He accepted the job, not only to save and protect Queens but to protect you as well. Just like what you thought of him, he felt the same of you. He believed that a 14-year-old shouldn’t have been fighting every night against drug dealers, mob lords and god damn aliens. You should have been having movie marathons and singing karaoke on Fridays, not trying to stay alive.

You remember the night you both fought vividly enough.

It had just been when Tony had come to Peter’s house to bring him to Germany. You didn’t even know that your dad had gone over to Peters. For all he knew, Peter was just another school friend of yours who was wooed by the fact that you were Y/N Stark.

When your dad had finished talking to Peter, they both called you, Peter from his room, and your dad from the car.

“Y/N, you won’t believe who I just saw-”

“Y/N, I think you’ll be thrilled with who I just met-”

And that was the start of the issue. You had hung up on your dad when you heard Peter’s voice, and boy, were you glad you hung up on Tony. Because he wouldn’t have been delighted to listen to what came out of your mouth.

“What the fuck?”, you had asked, shocked. Running downstairs while still on the call with Peter, you had grabbed your suit, activating it as quick as possible. “What do you mean ‘coming with me to Germany’? You know that it’s just for Avenge-”

“That’s the coolest thing! Your dad just recruited me for the mission. But I think I sounded dumb. I mean, I said something about homewor-”

“Wait, hold up, recruited?!”

Flying next to his house, you saw the opened window. De-activating your metal armour and jumping in. You stood up, dusted off your arms and looked at Peter, tilting your head to ask him what the hell was going on.

Peter nodded enthusiastically. “Yeah, he came in, showed me a couple videos and asked me if I wanted to go with him to Germany. Not sure what’s gonna happen thought… “

You shook your head, shocked at the idea. “You are so stupid!”

Peter scratched the back of his head, not understanding what you were saying. “Yeah, I feel like I should know, but I haven’t really been following some media stuff…”

“No! Yo-you can’t go there! You can’t go to Germany!”

Peter looked confused, his lips sucked in. “Why? You’re going, plus… Mr Stark needs me!”

“Peter. You. Can’t. Go. There.” You shook your head, aghast at the idea of putting Peter in harms way. “Do-do you even know who’s gonna be there?! Captain America, Winter Soldier…Hawkeye! They are much more stronger than you…they could kill you!”

Peter looked down, but then glanced back up at you. “What about you then? They will hurt you as well! You are on the same team as me, aren’t you? How do you know they aren’t gonna kill you?”

You crossed your arms, scoffing. “They’ve known me for years Peter! At most, I just gotta keep the opposite team away from my dad and Nat. You? They don’t know you are a 14 year old kid. They will try their be-best to hurt you, because they don’t know what you could do?”

Peter glanced at his suit, then back at you, his face hardened. “Wh-why don’t you want me to do this Y/N?! This- this suit…Spiderman…. It’s the first real thing in my life since Be- his death. Why don’t you want me to pursue this? I-I could protect the city, make sure no one gets hurt.” He looked at you, his face disappointed. “I thought you, of all people, would be happy to work with me…”

You sighed, sitting down on his bed, frustrated. “Peter, this- this hero gig… saving the city… protecting lives. It’s alot of work… guilty and pain. Physical and mental.” You looked at him, worried. “You aren’t gonna be able to save everyone Pete. This comes with alot of hardships. I-I was born into this world, of fighting and crime fighting. Yo-you are just Peter Parker. You could go high places, just stay on the ground.” You looked at him, trying to make him understand.

But it didn’t work. He just laughed unbelievably. “Wha- Y/N, I-I’m not just Peter Parker anymore! I’m also Spiderman. I have been Spiderman for months. And I love it! I love saving people and helping them. Why don’t you think I can do this?!”

You gaped at him. “What-why would you- Peter! I love you helping people, but why don’t you just stay on the ground? Help people find lost cats and walk old ladies down to the grocery store? Why do you want to go fight people who might die any second? Be part of a group that might die any second!”

“Be-because you are part of that group! I have to be able to take care of you Y/N! Now that I finally can!”

You took in a deep breath and walked closer to the window, picking up the small bracelet you wore to change into your suit. “Peter, I can manage myself. You can’t! Leave the big stuff to other people.”

“Like who?!”

“The Avengers!”

Peter opened his mouth to argue but you beat him to it. “You aren’t part of the Avengers Peter! As much as you want to be! I know you have a talent, but why not just stick to being the friendly neighborhood Spiderman for now?”

Peter clenched his jaw, and diverted his eyes. You knew what that meant. He wasn’t budging on his decision. So you said the only thing that came to your mind.

“Peter, if I see you on the battlefield in a few days, th-then don’t bother saying hi, got it?” You both knew what this was implying, but neither of you wanted to back down, both too stubborn. All the 14-year-old-you could do, was hope you wouldn’t see any sign of the red and blue hero when you landed in the airport in Germany.

Sadly, the minute that your father had called out “Underoos!”, you had a sinking feeling in your stomach that things would not be the same any longer.

And it wasn’t. For the rest of your lives…

6 years later (Avenger’s compound)

“Fuck you, Peter Parker.”

“Oh, you wish!”

You laughed comically, glaring at him. “Oh please, I feel so bad for any one who actually does. Well, you know, if you can even fuck someone…”, you said, gagging exasperatedly. Peter’s glare tightened as his adam’s apple moved up and down.

“Hmm, at least I have a girlfriend, who do you have?”

“Please! I have half of New York after me!”

Peter looked hurt for a moment, but then his steel gaze returned. “I didn’t think some one could be as obnoxious as you, but guess once in a while, I’m proven wrong.”

“Really? Because I’m pretty sure everybody proves you wrong. Well… at least they prove your nerdy science theories wrong.” You knew this was crossing the line. You could insult his physique, his bed skills, his flirting skills…but never his academic skills.

You could practically see smoke pouring out from his ears, and so could everyone else.

“Oh shit”, muttered Sam from behind you, poking Bucky’s stomach. “Fight’s gonna go down, for sure.”

Bucky looked indifferent, probably used to us, but when he saw Peter’s red face, he backed up, hands up. “Damn, this is gonna be a bad one. You wanna stay and watch or get out before we both get killed?”

“Well I think-”, Sam began, but was cut off by you and Peter starting to yell at each other.

“You are a complete asshole!”

“At least I’m not a spoilt brat!”

“Oh, you did not just go there!”

“Yeah... I did, what are you gonna do-?” He looked you in the eye and muttered out the next word, almost whispering. “Brat?”

You gave a harsh growl and lunged at him, almost knocking down a vase on the table. He quickly jumped out of the way, arms snapping back at you. You could see Sam and Bucky running out of the room, yelling at other people in the tower to evacuate.

You turned around to see Peter, standing there, a smug smirk appearing on his lips as he pulled his webshooters out of his pocket, shooting them at you before you could react.

“Hmph”, you grunted, being pushed back against the wall. Peter leisurely walked to you, as if he was a tiger pouncing on his prey. His eyes were dark as he smiled at you cruelly.

He was really close to you, and he could have done what ever he wanted if he had reached you… Too bad you were more of the type of predator rather than prey.

You felt your knife spurt out of your wrist as it cut through the webs. Untangling yourself, you jumped with ease, twisting your arms and legs around Peter, as you both tumbled to the ground. Peter groaned, trying to get up, but you just pushed your weight further on him, jumping on his chest, straddling him.

“Can you get off?”, he asked, his voice strained. You smiled, knowing you had won. Coming close to his face, you smirked cheekily, before whispering in his ear. “You think they bought it?”

Peter smiled at you, kissing your neck. “Of course, we are great actors…”

You pulled back, kissing him back, fingers tangling in his curls. “Sorry…. Bout’… the theories thing”, you said between kisses, pulling back to make sure he was fine.

“Yeah, that was a good touch. What about the brat?”

You laughed hotly, moving down. “I loved it…probably more than I should have”, you said against his neck.

“Oh is that it? Well, there was one thing I didn’t agree with.” He flipped you over, pining your arms above your head. “You don’t think I can fuck my girlfriend well?” Just as he was about to reach down to catch your lips, you heard a glass shatter. Looking up, you saw the group, everyone having shocked face and Tony in the front, mouth wide open.

“What the FUCK-”

——————————————————————————————————

Tagged: @idkatee @eternalscribblesforthesoul @loudbluepancake @poisondevotion @scram1326 @t-hollanderr @305weasley @starknik22 @marvelfansworld @lou-la-lou @lomlparker @marvelfansworld @wowitsel @vanteguccir @fullcheesecakeengineer @ladykxxx08 @allegras-sunflower @a–1–1–3

Loved writing this one! Always wanted to try Enemies to Lovers, so I hope you enjoyed it! See you next time :)

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’

[kaitycole]

Love One: the love that looks right

Summary: Ushijima has been your neighbor and best friend for most of your life, so it's no surprise that you two end up being each other's first relationship. But can a relationship that's label as perfect from the beginning, that's seen as being 'The One', can it last?

Parings: Ushijima x Reader

Word Count: 4916

Warnings: Fluff? Light angst.

Rating: 16+

A/N: This series is based on an article that talks about how in live, most of us experience three types of love. I’ll link the article in the series master post for anyone who wants to read it!

2000 – 6 years old

“Toshi! Toshi!” You ran down the steps in front of your house, skipping across the yard and into the neighboring yard, continuing to shout out of the young boy. You found him, watering can in hand, inspecting some plant whose name you can’t remember even though he’s told you several times.

A smirk appeared as you slowed your pace, creeping up behind him before you jumped onto his back, yelling his name a bit too loudly and too close to his ear. He gasped, water spilled everywhere as the can fell, and before he could balance his footing, you fell off his back, landing directly on his plant.

“Oops, sorry Toshi.” You took the hand that he offered, fixed your eyes on the tips of your shoes, tears pooled in your eyes. “It was an accident. Promise.”

He didn’t say anything, gentle hands tried to get the plant to stand, but the broken stem caused it to just fall back onto the soil. His face remained stoic and you couldn’t help but feel terrible, waiting for him to get mad at you. But he didn’t, he just stared at the broken plant, small hands tightly gripped the watering can handle.

He finally looked over at you, tears fell down your cheeks as you stood there, trembling.

He looked around until bright yellow and blue caught your eye, walking to the other side of the yard he picked up the volleyball, turning towards you. “Let’s play.”

A huge smile tugged at your lips before you eagerly agreed, running over towards him, this time just throwing your arms around him. Even though you do most of the talking and he’s usually just going along with one of your various demands, Wakatoshi always seemed to know how to make you feel better. After all, you had both promised to be best friends forever.

*                      * 2010– 16 years old

You let out a sigh, tugging at the purple tie around your neck before glancing out the window. For some reason that day just won’t end, each minute creeping by at a snail-pace, but the blur of green catches your eye. You watch at Ushijima walks through the courtyard, carrying some large box for a teacher who seems to be repeatedly thanking him and you can’t help but smile.

The Ushijimas have been in your life since before you were even born, both of your dads had attended Shiratorizawa Academy back in the day and never really lost contact, even when Utsui moved overseas. Unlike Ushijima, you have a younger brother who’s five years younger than you, but most days the two of you would be found together, usually with either him suggesting volleyball or him just dragging his feet to follow after whatever you wanted to do.

The bell finally rings, signaling the lunch break and you eagerly pack up your books before grabbing your bag and heading out to the courtyard. At first you were worried about school, wondering how you’d be able to fit in, but you ended up going to the same schools with Ushijima and even if you’d only get a small head nod, you still knew he was there. The downside was the amounts of classmates that would try to use you to get close to him, those confessing their crushes for him to you in hopes you’d spread it along with a good word. Not to mention the lack of confessions you’d receive due to the intimidating aura that surrounded Ushijima and the well-known fact you two were close.

“Y/N!” Your best friend, Ren, smiles as she waves you over to your usual table. Ren is one of the only girls who hadn’t tried to get you to talk them up to Ushijima, her sight is set on Yamagata Hayato.

“You okay? You look tired.” Tensei asks, sitting across from you, unscrewing the bottle of juice in his hand.

“The day just feels like it’s dragging for some reason.” You let out a small yawn, excusing yourself as you start to eat the lunch you packed.

“Are you—” Ren starts before she’s interrupted, a random second year coming up to your table.

“Hey, L/N-san,” she starts, “is Ushijima seeing anyone?”

You want to roll your eyes, to let out an agitated sigh and tell her to just leave, but you don’t because it’s not entirely her fault that you get asked this frequently. You couldn’t blame her, he was easy on the eyes, but it didn’t stop part of you from getting a tad bit jealous.

“He’s actually in a committed relationship with Mizuna.” Tensei says, trying to hold back a laugh.

“Or was it Misaka?” Ren teasingly add, watching the second year cross her arms as she storms off.

“You two are trouble.” You laugh, taking a bit of the sandwich you brought, “what are you gonna do when she figures out they are sporting brands?”

“I doubt it. She’ll probably spend the rest of the term trying to figure out which year and class they are in.”

You just shake your head, completely entertained by that idea, mentally noting to use that next time someone asked you about Ushijima’s relationship status. Ren and Tensei are talking about something, but your focus shifts to Ushijima as you see him and Tendou walking through the courtyard, missing the smirk that your two friends share.

“Y/N,” you snap your attention to Ren, “speaking of Ushijima, when are you two going to date?”

It feels like the wind has been knocked out of you, but when you try to breathe in, it’s an icy sensation like winter air. The topic has come up before, several times in fact, but why did this time feel different? You feel your cheeks heat up when Ushijima makes eye contact, he throws up a hand, the closest anyone gets to a wave from him.

“You guys would make a good couple.” Tensei adds, getting an encouraging nod from Ren.

“We’re just friends.” You wave them both off, hoping they’d let it go.

Ren shrugs, “I don’t know. He looks at you differently than everyone else.”

You feel your heart start to thump against your chest, the heat from your cheeks rising to your ears and all you can hear is your racing heart. Did he? Was there a chance that maybe he felt the same way you had? It didn’t take a genius to see that he’s handsome or that even if he’s not the brightest academically, he makes up for it with his athletics.

It never bothered you when you had to help him study, in fact you preferred it because the little crease he got between his eyebrows when he was determined to get something, it was one of your favorite sights. You just never bothered to voice those feelings, hoping that maybe it would help things hurt less when he started dating someone else.

** “Y/N~”

“Tendou!” You jump up from the spot you’ve been sitting outside the gym, wrapping the middle blocker into a hug.

“Have you been out here the whole time? It’s cold, Y/N!”

You give him a sheepish smile, “I forgot my jacket and was waiting for Toshi.”

Tendou shakes his head before tightening his hug around you, he’s warm and you try to soak up the heat. “Ushijima, give me your jacket.” “You have yours on, why do you need mine?” “Just hand it here.” Tendou leans his head backwards to see Ushijima, “please~”

Unfazed, the wing spiker slips out of his jacket, handing it over. Tendou takes it and drapes it over your shoulders, it practically swallows your smaller frame.

“Thanks,” you mumble, basking in the warmth the oversized jacket brings you, your nose burying into the collar as you take in Wakatoshi’s scent. Your eyes widen when you realize what you’re doing, the heat you felt at lunch covering your face again.

“Y/N?” The tall olive-brown haired boy calls out to you and you slowly peak around Tendou, who has a mischievous grin on his face.

“Hey there, Toshi!” You grip the strap of your bag a bit tighter.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming, I’d have given you my jacket before practice.” There’s a flicker of concern in his eyes as he walks closer to you.

“I was fine, really.” You smile up at him before Tendou announces his departure leaving just the two of you. It’s not an uncommon situation, you grew up together but for some reason ever since lunch, just the topic of Ushijima leaves you a mess. Ren’s comment from lunch running through your mind repeatedly.

He looks at you differently than everyone else.

“Ren said we should date.” You tell him, laughing as you recall the conversation. The walk to your dorms is rather peaceful, the two of you exchanging highlights of your day, er well more of you talking about everything that happened while Ushijima listens.

“Okay.”

“Hm?”

“Let’s date then.” Ushijima says matter-of-factly, before he leaves you standing in front of your dorm, dazed and confused, as he heads towards his.

** Your eyes are closed, sleep still weighing them down as you sling your bag over your shoulder, opening the door of your room to head out. But you stop abruptly when you feel yourself run into something, or rather someone and looking up confirms it’s Toshi.

“Uh—” You’re at a loss for what to say, this wasn’t something that happened…ever. Sure, you’d both would sometimes hang out in each other’s rooms, but he never just showed up to yours first thing in the morning.

“Good morning, Y/N.” His voice is his usual even tone which confuses you even more because Ushijima didn’t do anything without a reason, everything had purpose.

“Toshi?” He raises an eyebrow at your question, “don’t take this the wrong way, but uhm, why are you here?”

“Tendou said people in relationships do things like walking to classes and such together. Should I not have come?”

For the first time in 10 years, Ushijima looks unsure and even a bit nervous which is new to you. He’s always put together on the court and at school that it’s almost refreshing to know this was as nerve-wracking for him as it is you.

“I like that you came.” You smile up to him, closing your door before you both begin walking down the hallway. The warmth his hand brings yours causes your heart to thump against your ribs, his larger hand embracing yours. “Tendou tell you about that too?” “No, I figured this out on my own.” He clears his throat, looking away from you but slow enough for you to catch the faint blush under his eyes.

** A month had passed since you and Toshi started dating before you had been able to go home and tell both sets of parents. You felt that a phone call would’ve sufficed, if you were honest, Toshi’s mom scared you a bit, but he persuaded you that in person was better.

The first half of the dinner is awkward, the atmosphere feels heavy around you as you engage in simple small talk about your studies and clubs, luckily for you Toshi had lots to say about volleyball and took over the conversation.

“Anything new in your lives?” Toshi’s mom gave you a look and you could’ve swore that she already knew.

“Actually, Y/N and I are dating.” Toshi’s tone is flat and even, throwing you off on how he just continues eating after dropping such a bomb. It wasn’t lost on you that his family still has traditional views and part of you wonders if you’re good enough to fill the spot at his side. A comforting hand is placed on your thigh, as if he’s read your mind and you smile to yourself.

“That’s wonderful news.” His mother smiles, turning to yours before they start discussing officially announcing the relationship (whatever that meant) and how it was about time the two of you got together. Listening to them going on and on about things made a lot of your worries fade away, it was a relief that they both were so onboard with the relationship.

*                      * 2011 – 17 years old

It’s been a year since you started dating Ushijima and it’s been a lot different that you thought it would be, not that you thought about it that much. And while things didn’t seem to change all that much, they changed completely. You weren’t just two friends walking to classes, but a couple. You weren’t just watching his matches like a childhood friend, but as a supportive partner.

When you had thought of dating, of being in a relationship, there was always the anticipation of getting to know your partner, but with Ushijima, you don’t get that. With Ushijima, it’s just seeing what you’re always known within a different light, but somehow that makes you feel like he’s ‘The One’ because how romantic is it to fall in love with the one who has been by your side for as long as you can remember? Even with the deep level of comfort you two share, your face still heats up when he reaches down to grab your hand, when he leans to kiss you goodnight and even when someone refers to him as your boyfriend.

*                      * “SHIIIIRATORIZAWA!!”

The beatings of drums and cheers of support fill the gymnasium, your voice getting hoarse from chanting as loudly as you can. For as long as you can remember, you attended Toshi’s volleyball games and somewhere during one of the games you found yourself truly loving the sport. Nothing really changed now that you were dating, other than the fact you seemed your swell up with even more pride when he hit spike or made a service ace and you were also seen sporting one of his spare athletic jackets with a simple purple shirt.

There was just something special about seeing the person you love doing something they’re so passionate about that make it impossible to not smile the whole time you’re watching them.

“You two are the cutest couple!”

“Oh, thank you.” Even after a year, you still weren’t used to people commenting on your relationship, mostly because no other relationship was talked about as much as yours.

“Talk about a perfect match!”

Another classmate seems to appear out of nowhere, adding the other comments, “I’m so jealous!”

You try to drown out their conversation, not wanting to hear about their surface deep comments, but you can’t. Standing up you look at the court one more time, Ushijima clearly in his element, a few points away from taking not just the set, but the match. Then, for the first time since you started attending his matches, you left the game early.

** “So, Y/N, when’s the wedding?” Ren jokes, getting a glare from Tensei who wants to get back to the focus of their gathering: studying for their upcoming math exam.

“What?” There’s a lot more panic in your voice that you intended and you can’t help but feel your face burn with embarrassment. You grab your math textbook, trying to hide your face before either of them sees, but of course they do.

“You and Toshi, are you planning to get married out of high school? Or waiting until after college?”

“Clearly Y/N wants to get back to studying. You remember, the whole reason we are here?” Tensei side eyes Ren before shaking his head. The two start to bicker back and forth, arguing about if breaks are really needed during studying or if they just cause unnecessary distractions that derail the whole point.

Your thoughts have you far from their debate and more so on what Ren asked. Marriage, it wasn’t like you didn’t think about it happening…eventually. But lately the whole concept, even the word alone has you on edge.

Back when you first started dating, you two were quick to share the news with your families and while you had a feeling they assumed this would happen eventually, they still seemed thrilled. Part of you could barely contain your happiness that your relationship had been accepted so quickly, knowing from movies and books you’ve read, not all relationships get family support. Another part of you was filled with a sinking feeling, a fear that eventually as your relationship grew and matured, the expectations from your families would increase, and they were doing just that.

Just a few weeks ago, you heard both of your mothers talking about it between themselves, seemingly making plans without any consideration of you or Toshi’s feelings. After that it left you wondering about your future and how your plans would fit into the heavy expectations the Ushijimas seemed to already have. Remembering the almost pitying laugh Toshi’s mother had given when you mentioned going to college and how she was quick to remind you that someone had to be the stay-at-home parent with children and Toshi couldn’t since he had a promising future in volleyball.

** “Happy birthday, Y/N!” Ren, Tensei and Tendou shout at you, crossing the courtyard to get closer to the table you were sitting at. Embarrassment crept across your skin, feeling like everyone’s eyes were suddenly on you, something you hated.

“Thanks.” You give them all a tight ‘please never do that again’ smile which just makes them laugh.

“Y/N.”

The voice causes you to quickly turn and you see Toshi standing there, a slightly obnoxiously large bouquet in his hand and you wish you hadn’t felt so embarrassed over your friends because now you definitely knew people were looking.

It had been a while since you and Toshi had gotten together for more than ten minutes, his schedule had gotten busier, you couldn’t remember when he was ever this busy before. You couldn’t help but smile at the fact that he remembered your birthday and gotten you something.

“Toshi!” You throw your arms around him, smiling even more when he tells you happy birthday, loud  enough for just you to hear.

Comments about how cute you two were, how great a relationship you had start to fill the courtyard and while you usually get sick of hearing it, it reminded you that you didn’t have much to complain about. Sure, Toshi’s schedule seemed to get busier every day, but he still carved time out for you and that’s what really mattered.

*                      * 2012 – 18 years old

You look up and towards the door when you hear the bell ring, hoping that it’s Toshi. The two of you agreed to meet up at a café before seeing a movie, he was running a bit late because he had a meeting with Coach Washijō. A deep sigh leaves you as you realize that it’s not Toshi and instead you are still alone.

DING!

Toshi: Coach Washijō wants me to meet with some alumni players. (12:31PM) Toshi: I can’t make it today. (12:32PM)

You should’ve seen it coming, honestly. He has always been a force in the volleyball circuit, but with graduation coming up and professional scouters about, he seems to be in even more demand. You are proud of him, proud of all he’s accomplished, but as his partner, you felt like you were just getting the short end of the stick most of the time.

** “I’m all yours today, I promise.” Toshi says, standing at your room door, a small bouquet of flowers in his hand.

You can’t help but smile, you’re still upset about yesterday, but you know he’s trying and that the small amount of free time he actually gets, he spends with you. You step aside and let him in and he takes a seat in your desk chair, even after years of being friends and almost two years of dating, he refuses to just sit on your bed. He really could be a huge dork sometimes.

“Did you have something in mind?” You wrap your blanket back around you, originally planning to spend your free Sunday catching up on shows you missed.

“Anything you want to do, I owe you.”

A mischievous smirk crosses your face as you jump up, rushing into the bathroom. “Face masks!”

He nods, “whatever you want.”

** You look over at your calendar that’s hanging on the wall, today’s date is circled and you feel a little silly for being so upset. Today marks two years with Toshi, but for what felt like the hundredth time this month, you were in your room alone. He had sent flowers and a small gift, of course, he never missed sending something on anniversaries, birthdays or other holidays, but coming second to volleyball was getting old.

The part of you that is petty wants to think Coach Washijō is doing it on purpose, but what did you think would happen when dating one of the top 3 aces in Japan? Still, you just thought this time could be different. Then you were hit with an overwhelming feeling that this would be your life. At least your life if you ended up staying with Toshi. He would go pro, you knew that and with his family’s traditional ways, you’d end up staying at home with children your mothers had envisioned for you, not bothering to ask either of you what you wanted.

Waiting, that’s what their future held for you, just waiting for him to come home. And just like yesterday and today, every day would just feel the same.

Did you want that?

There was nothing wrong with those who wanted that life, but it wasn’t ever what you thought yours would be. You wanted to go to a good university, to join the career field you dreamed of and definitely saw traveling in that future.

What’s worse that the feeling of a bleak future is knowing if you told Toshi, he’d do anything he could to fix it. And what’s worse that that is the feeling that while you love him so much you could feel it deep in your bones, a future without him was more desirable that one with him.

How could a relationship that seemed so perfect to everyone around you, feel so wrong to those in it?

** “Mom?”

“Hmm?”

Finals were just around the corner and Toshi had thought it would be a good idea for the two of you to visit home, not to mention being at home meant less volleyball obligations and more time he could spend with you.

“I don’t think things are going to work out with Toshi.”

The room stilled, though you’re sure if it had been a movie scene, the glass vase in her hands would’ve shattered as it hit the ground.

Yesterday when you two got home, both your parents had been acting strange, so happy that it was like they were floating. It wasn’t until later in the night when you met up with Toshi for a walk that he told you his mother mentioned you two getting engaged, dropping not subtle hints of a post-graduation proposal.

The ground fell from beneath you, all the air in your lungs being sucked out, the only thing saving you was how Toshi told you that he didn’t agree with her plans. That you two should be the ones discussing it, not your parents and that his focus on volleyball blurred out things like proposals and weddings. Even with those words, you still knew how hard it would be for family-oriented Wakatoshi to go against his family; the thought of how different he would be if his dad had raised him crossed your mind.

“Whatever the problem is, I’m sure you can fix it.”

You snort, how cliché for her to blame you. “I just don’t know if our futures line up. We both want such different lives.’

She finally turns to face you, her jaw clenched, “nonsense, you two are perfect together.”

Perfect.

That word has long been on a list of words you hate, one you are tired of hearing, sick of being called that when you know it was far from true. By definition, it means having desirable qualities or characteristic, something that was as good as it could possibly. If you tried hard enough to see your relationship from an outsider’s perspective, maybe after you squint hard enough you could see it. Could understand why perfect was used, how great things looked. You had a boyfriend who would try to move the sun for you if you asked, one who did his best to be there for you and see every chance he got, on the surface level you really had nothing to complain about.

But on the inside, you were two ships passing in opposite directions. Maybe it was true that some relationships are just too good to be true, that some people are better as just friends, that some friendships can’t last when changed to a relationship.

** “Y/N~”

You look over to see Tendou practically skipping towards you, a smile on his face while he wrapped his arms around you from behind, leaning to rest his chin on your shoulder.

“Tendou!”

“What’s wrong?” He lets go of, taking the empty seat beside you. You had been sitting on a bench, hoping some fresh air could clear your head. It was just a few days until graduation and the looming expectations of both families started weighing down more, plus Toshi was even more busy with volleyball since word got out that he had gotten a few offers already, so you didn’t have anyone to really talk to about it.

“Nothing. Just tired.” As soon as the words leave your mouth, you know Tendou doesn’t believe you. He had an uncanny ability to pick up on things like that.

“Tell me, Y/N.”

That’s all it took for you to finally break, the mix of the gently words and his soft tone. He listened as you tell him about Toshi’s traditional family (most of which he already knows) and the over the top expectations both your families seem to have.

How a future together seems more like a nightmare than a dream come true but not because you don’t love him, maybe because you love him too much. Love him so much that you don’t want him pushed into some life just or being with you. And by the time you finish up by telling him how it’s been hurting you to hold everything in, not wanting to burden Toshi, you are in tears.

** “Can we talk, Y/N?”

You nod, biting on the inside of your cheek. Graduation had been a week ago and since coming home, your parents (namely mother) had been discussing wedding plans and wondering just when Toshi would pop the questions, so it’s no surprise when they light up when seeing it’s him at the door.

He takes your hand, gently squeezing when he feels you flinch, the notion instantly calming you. He motions for you to sit on a bench in the nearby park that you’ve been walking towards, but when he sighs, you start to worry.

“I spoke to Tendou a few days ago and he helped me understand a few things.” “Toshi, I—”

He holds up a hand, “please let me talk first.”

You nod, noting a small crack in his voice as he squats in front of you, taking your hands.

“My life has always been volleyball, it’s what I’m good at and I know that being a boyfriend isn’t something I’m good at. But even with that, you still carried our relationship even when you stopped being happy.” He keeps his eyes focused on your hands, leaving you to look at the top of his head. “Now It’s time for me to take the burden from you and I’m okay with being the bad guy if it means that you’ll smile like you used to. So, Y/N, will you break up with me?”

You burst into laughter and tear, knowing that he must’ve been given that words from Tendou and practiced them ‘because it didn’t sound like him. “Our parents are going to be disappointed.” He shrugs, “I’ll blame volleyball.”

You wipe the tears from your cheeks, the sleeve of your sweater gets a bit damp. “It hurts because I love you so much.”

He grabs your wrists, tugging you into his chest, the calming scent of his body wash soothes you. “I love you too.”

“Is it selfish to ask if we can still be friends?” You nuzzle your face into the crook of his neck, fresh tears pricking your eyes. How was it fair that two people who love each other so deeply, just weren’t meant to be? You didn’t have a breakup to compare this one too, but you didn’t think anything else could ever hurt this much.

“I believe someone declared we’d be friends forever. I might have been a bad boyfriend, but I think I’m a good friend.”

Smiling, you look at him, he wipes the tears away with his thumb, his hand cupping your cheek. “I don’t think you were a bad boyfriend, just a busy one.” “You were a perfect girlfriend.” He stands up, pulling you to your feet as well.

“I can still come to your games, right? Having an ex wouldn’t be too weird?” “No. I’ll always need my number one fan.”

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[malfoys-demigod]

Tutor, Tea, and Truth

draco malfoy x reader 

summary: Reader spends her Saturday mornings tutoring lower classmen by the library. Draco was intrigued with your enthusiasm and love for tutoring that he began watching you. When you finally noticed, he tried lying, saying that he never had the guts to ask you for help in the subjects he was having trouble with. Knowing that he was the second smartest wizard of your year, you didn’t buy his lie, catching him off guard. Being defeated, Draco begins a conversation with you and eventually asks you on a date.

a/n: i was really planning to continue this, and finally i have! 

word count: 6.1k

tag list: @the--queen-of-hell​ @bbeauttyybbx​

If there was one thing you could do effortlessly, it was giving a hand to help others. It could be through any way and it would still be considered helping someone out. 

Whether it be the simple things such as lending an extra quill, picking up the things that a person has dropped in the corridor, to much more complex things that required more will power such as being a third-wheeler at a date at Hogsmeade, walking someone back to the common room at night, and your favorite favorite thing which was tutoring. 

The act of tutoring either your batchmates or lowerclassmen was the most favorite thing of all the things you could do as help. There were so many advantages of being a tutor to students. It could help gain you more friendships with people around year-levels and houses, train your brain to remember new and old information, and strengthen your reputation as a helpful person. 

With these many advantages, your favorite reason was the idea of being able to see the smiles of people at the end of the session or seeing them come back to you, thanking you that they raised their scores, giving you all the credit when you tell them that it was them, that did it all. 

Helping other people made you the happiest person in Hogwarts. You were a smart wizard of your year, certainly not levelling Hermione Granger, but enough to help other people out. It didn’t bother you that there was the possibility of getting drowned with your own work because you could use this advantage and call on other students from your year to form a study group with you, doing the work together and helping each other. 

If they declined the offer due to many reasonable excuses, you still used this advantage to finish the work as quick as possible, with quality of course, so that when your classmates finally have the time to do their work, they can come to you and you could teach them what you learned, helping your brain remember more of what you had recently taught yourself. 

It was a way of boosting your knowledge and grades, making you one successful student. 

Tutoring was something you had gotten from former upperclassmen when you were still in your first year. As a newcomer to Hogwarts, you were very much nervous of failing classes at such a prestigious school. 

So one day at the end of your first week of classes as a first year, you decided to head to the library, hoping to seek a quiet time to celebrate that classes of your first week had ended. But what you arrived at was a study group led by seventh years. 

Not being intimidated by large and older students, you walked towards them, asking them if they could help you with school work. They surprisingly agreed to help you, also giving you the idea of becoming a tutor just like them. They showed you the ropes and shaped you into the person you were today. You were very thankful for them.

Years later, you became a respectful tutor, just like the seventh years in your first year. 

From starting a group only for students in your year, you built your reputation over the years as word passed by, telling other students of lower years that you were a tutor that could be of service for all lowerclassmen. 

Having word passed by from some students of their year, lowerclassmen were more encouraged to find the famous you, and grab seats in the library to circle around you. With more students now coming to see you on a daily basis, you started to treat them like friends rather than pretend clients who you were offering your services to. 

Today was the first week back from the winter holidays. 

Everyone was still acting as if they'd forgotten to switch off their mindsets from “Vacation Mode”, as all they could think and talk about was the holidays. This year’s holidays were somehow excellent for almost everyone where they were spending it in Hogwarts or outside of the castle. Wherever you went, people were smiling, daydreaming about possibly what gifts they received, which meals they enjoyed, and everything you could name. 

The fact that people were still thinking of the holidays meant that it was hard to return focusing on academics. People were so used to waking up late and doing anything they pleased during the holidays that it was quite difficult for them to continue keeping up their grades in school. Worse, if they were taught by the teachers who planned on giving them tests and quizzes a week or two after their first week back, to jog up their memories on the things they have learned from the month before the break.  

You yourself may have had a slight relatable feeling with most of the students at Hogwarts, but you were more lucky than them as you still managed to read a book or two about lessons you were had recently learned and lessons you will be learning when the holiday ended. This action wasn’t done frequently during the break but it was enough to feel more confident when it came to returning to school after the holidays ended. Your little tutoring business would also be booming as others would beg for your time, asking if you could help teach them the things they’ve forgotten and need to remember. 

Usually, people spent their Friday’s after classes anywhere but the library. It was their way of removing their mindset of school and into their weekend freedom. For you on the other hand, your next place right after your last class was the library, the place you happily held your tutoring sessions. You didn’t need to be asked if you could spare time for people as they assumed that you would already be there in the library, waiting for people to come and be helped. 

Their assumptions today were right. You had finished setting up your things by one of the long tables at the library, opening your notebook and bringing out your quill when all of a sudden, a massive group of second years were quietly rushing around your table, huffing and puffing tiredness. 

“Hello, Y/N!”

“Good afternoon, Y/N!”

“Good to see you, Y/N!” 

Were some of the small greetings that your second year students greeted you as they were relieved to see you. You waved at them, giving them a warm smile as you greeted them back. You fixed your posture, straightening your back as you made yourself ready to teach them. 

“Now, my dear little friends,” you spoke, “What are we learning today?” 

“History of Magic,” they all groaned, looking so distressed. 

You giggled, trying to show a sympathetic pout at them, “Ah, yes, let me guess,” you placed a finger on your chin, “Binns expected you to study over the break, which you all didn’t, and announced a test next week?”

“Exactly!” One complained, “The mad ghost is holding it on Monday, Monday! Can you believe him?” 

You nodded, smiling at the memories when you were required to take History of Magic, “I do, that’s how Binns handles his classes,” you sighed, “But not to worry, when you’re older, his class wouldn’t be required any longer, you could choose something else if you’d like.”

“What did you choose, Y/N?” They all asked, giving curious eyes. 

“I chose to have a free period,” you admitted, watching them gasp with big eyes, “I know, a ‘smart’ cookie like me should be taking up the extra classes for the sake of landing that dream job or simply showing that you're an excellent student, right? But the classes I’m taking already have me set with the many choices I have with whatever dream jobs I have in mind to be honest. Besides, there are many things I could do during my free time, such as studying and doing my schoolwork so I could use this time to help you desperate kids in need. Now come on, let’s head onto the most vile lessons in your class,” you said, encouraging them to open their books. 

—

“The last breach you should remember was in 1790 when an American witch named Dorcus Twelvetrees made a serious breach when she confided secret information to a muggle, or what Americans call it, a ‘No-Maj’ named Bartholomew Barebone. She told him not only about the existence of MACUSA and the International Confederation of Wizards, but also the location of their wizarding school named Ilvermorny School. Barebone stole her wand and showed it off to the press and called for No-Maj persecution of magical folks like us. Due to this, President Emily Rappaport of MACUSA instated “Rappaport's Law” which completely segregated witches and wizards from the No-Majs, and remained the law of the land until repealed in 1965.” 

All your second year students were slightly dazed, looking as if their brains had stopped processing the information you had been teaching them. Understanding what they’re going through, you closed their books with the use of your wand, closing yours and using the magic to pack up. “Alright, you kiddos,” you said, “It’s time for you to rethink about the things I’ve taught you today, I wish you luck in your test next week, and advise you to possibly not pick this subject as an elective when you’re older,” you joked. 

“She’s right,” said a new voice, “I completely welcome you to pick Astronomy or Potions. As a successful student from those classes, think of it as a recommendation from another top student like me.”

You looked to your left, seeing that Draco Malfoy was nonchalantly leaning by the bookshelves, crossing his arms with a smirk on his face. 

“Was it just a coincidence that you overheard the conversation and used the opportunity to lure my second years into your favorite subjects? Or were you here the whole time I tutored them and waited for the right timing to give us a grand entrance, because you look like you’ve been here for quite some time,” you asked, imitating your batchmate by crossing your arms out of curiosity. 

Catching Draco off guard, he tried recovering by placing a hand on his chest, appearing so offended by your words, “Heavens, Y/L/N, big with questions aren’t you?” he slightly chuckled, walking towards your table, “On you go kiddos, time to relax from all this young lady has been bombarding you with!” he joked, earning a laugh from the second years who were not aware of you, rolling your eyes at Draco. 

Draco shrugged, playing innocent as he dropped his sling bag as he pulled a seat, sitting down casually. He interlocked both his hands, placing them on the table as he gave you a small wink, “Y/L/N,” he formally greeted, nodding at you, “You come here often?” 

“Of course I do, Malfoy, everyone should know by now that I tutor people here,” you said, standing up from your table, “Shouldn’t you be elsewhere spending your Friday afternoon?” 

Draco may or may have not been lurking around the library, waiting for you to end your tutoring session for the day. He had been waiting ever since classes ended for him and had been wandering around the library in order to be caught stalking you endlessly for the entire hour as you taught your second years. 

 During the last twenty minutes of your session, he positioned himself by the nearest bookshelf on the other side in order not to be seen, as he was pulling out some books, peeping and watching you happily teach second years. 

When people passed by, Draco pretended to open the book he pulled, seeming ‘curious’ with the contents he was reading and if some gave him suspicious looks, he would quietly snap the book in front of them, eyeing them coldly and twitching his nose in a scary manner, causing them to walk away, looking anywhere but at Draco. 

“Is there something wrong with me being here, Y/N?” Draco asked, sounding so innocent, “It’s not like you own the place, dear.” he taunted, tilting his head for approval.

“You’re right, I don’t but it’s just highly unlikely for me to see you here, that’s all.”

“Would it be highly unlikely of me to ask if you could perhaps tutor me?” 

You shook your head slightly in amusement, looking at Draco who seemed so casual with the question he had just asked you. “You?” you pointed at him,  “You need a tutor?” 

“Is there something wrong with that?” he wondered.

“Well, yes,” you replied, “You’re a top student of our year, for Merlin’s sake, I doubt I’m even smarter than you!” you exclaimed, raising your hands in amusement. “You really have to be kidding me if you wanted a tutor.”

“What if I’m not kidding?”

“Okay, then, what do you need help with, Malfoy?”

Draco paused for a slight second, surprised he got far with this, a lightbulb went up quickly, so did his eyes when he looked at you and quickly said, “History of Magic!”

“Uh-huh, just like my second years?”, you asked, as he nodded in response. 

“I don’t remember you taking Binn’s class this year?” 

Draco clenched his hands as his heart started beating quickly, “And who are you to say that? I don’t suppose you’re in his class as well? Correct me if I’m wrong but I remember hearing you advise your second years not to take his class.”

“Right,” you said, with a raised eyebrow. He was correct, and you couldn’t say he wasn’t in Binn’s class, you wouldn’t know since you weren’t in his class. So you sat back down, placing your bag on the table as you removed your old History of Magic book and opened it. “So, what do you need help with?”

“Erm, Giant wars?” he asked, hoping to himself that was something people were learning this year. 

“Oh, okay, well you’re in luck because I happened to be reading that out of curiosity during the break. And well, my friends who were doing advance reading for his class were telling me all about it this week.” you said, looking for the page that had giant wars. 

When you found the page, you pointed at the chapter, “Ah, there we are, let’s start, shall we?”

“We shall,” he replied. 

--

“And remember, the conflicts between the giants and the wizards that had historical significance took place around the nineteenth century, alright?”

Draco calmly nodded, using his quill to write down the last thing he needed to remember for his class. Finished, he placed his parchment back in his bag and extended his hand, “Lovely,” he said, as you extended your hand, shaking his, “You truly are the best and by the way-

“Y/N!” said a new voice. 

Both you and Draco turned to the side of the open hall of the library to see Neville and Luna waving at you with beaming smiles. As Draco groaned to himself, Neville and Luna walked towards you, seeing that Draco was there as well. 

“Tutoring him?” Neville asked, looking at Draco who wanted to be elsewhere. 

“Surprisingly, yes,” you nodded, “Apparently he needs help with History of Magic and that’s understandable. It would have been more beneficial if you two were here with me, you could have taught him too considering that you three are in the same class.”

Neville looked at Luna with a puzzled look, then to Draco with a highly raised eyebrow. “That would have been beneficial indeed,” Neville said, as Draco gulped with a hint of fear, “If he actually took the class.”

“W-what do you mean?” you confusingly chuckled, looking now at Draco for reassurance, “Are you not taking History of Magic, Malfoy?”

“Nonsense,” he quickly replied, tightening his tie, “You’re confused, I’m probably in another period of Binn’s class, Longbottom.”

“There is no other class,” Luna innocently added, “Since there were only a few left interested in his class, we could only manage to create one class.”

You crossed your arms, giving Draco an open mouth, “Right,” you said, “Excuse us Neville and Luna, I think I can handle the interrogation from here.”

“Alright, see ya Y/N!” Neville said as Luna warmly waved goodbye, walking away from the scene to leave you, looking at Draco who was nervously chuckling to himself as he started packing up his things. 

Before he could stand up, you stopped him with a raise of your hand, commanding him to sit, “Don’t think you can just leave so quickly, Malfoy.”

He turned back to you, giving a small quick smile, “Right, I suppose you’re expecting a couple of galleons for your service.” He began getting coins from his bag, only for you to zip it shut with the wave of your wand. 

“Was there a reason for you to lie and waste, let’s see,” you looked at your pocket watch, “Hm, an hour of my time?”

He shrugged, smiling guiltily, “I don’t suppose it’s a waste of time, especially when you’re with me,” he said, trying to display a smirk in his mouth, which ended up looking as if he was giving his all for it. 

“Nice try, Malfoy, but really, why would you go all out and pretend you took Binn’s class?”

Draco exhaled, giving up the act of lying as he let out a small laugh, feeling ever so humiliated with himself as he looked at you and said, “Maybe I had something planned and things went too far that I wasn’t able to go back to the right track.” he shrugged, waiting for your response. 

Clueless yet interested, you leaned forward and asked, “Care to explain what your plans were?”

Malfoy smiled at himself, nervous yet ready to tell you the truth. 

“My initial plan was to wait till you were finished tutoring those little gits and ask you on a date, after all, I have been wanting to for awhile, figured it was time to make a move. I might have gone off script and used the opportunity of your tutoring sessions to… spend time with me.” 

You were vastly staggered as it was news to hear that Draco Lucius Malfoy was first, waiting for you in the library for Merlin knows how long, second, planning to ask you on a date, and third, has been wanting to ask you on a date! It wasn’t like you were head over heels for with such passion, but it filled your heart, discovering that one of the most outstanding students of your year was highly interested in you. Why you of all people? 

Still staring into the unknown, Draco’s spirits slightly started falling down as he had not received an answer yet from you. He wanted to make sure you had an answer, but at the same time, he didn’t want to make himself feel bad if he pressured you with time into giving him one. 

“You’re going to have to answer me verbally dear, contrary to popular belief, I can’t read minds.” he joked. 

You snapped back from all your lingering thoughts, chuckling to yourself out of embarrassment, as you saw that Draco gave you a faint smile. “Right,” you spoke, “I’m sorry, I was just thinking.”

“Thinking?” he said, probing. 

“Yes, uhm, first of all, my second years are not gits,” you said, pointing at him, then you looked back down, placing a hand on your chest, “Second, I’m flattered, and third-”

“You’re going to reject me?” he suggested, feeling defeat in his voice. 

You shot him a worried look, shaking your head, “Goodness no,” you opposed as you waved your hands in front of him, “I’m extremely flattered because I never thought you’d be interested in me, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Draco asked, walking around the table to come closer to you. 

“I always thought you were too good for me.” you laughed at yourself, looking down at the ground. 

Draco placed his hands on your shoulders, rubbing you sympathetically as he gave a small, exalted smile, “You have no right to say that, Y/L/N for I should be the one saying that.” he removed his hands from you, straightening his robe and announced, “This time, I offer you my time as I’d like you to spend tomorrow with me at Hogsmeade. We will have the most excellent first date, should you choose to accept.” he confidently said. 

You slung your back onto your shoulder, smiling at the invitation you were given. “Alright, Malfoy, you got yourself a date tomorrow. Should I feel free to dress to impress?” 

He shrugged, appearing as if it didn’t matter, “To me, you’d look ravishing with or without the need to do that. But if you wish,” he said, smirking. 

You rolled your eyes, “See you, Malfoy,” waving him goodbye as you left the scene. 

--

You were waiting outside by the gates of the castle, sitting down on the stairs, patiently and calmly waiting for Draco, who happened to be your surprising date as you were still processing the fact you were about to go on a date with him. 

You hadn’t really thought about the possibility of dating Draco. You were just a simple girl in Hogwarts, being always on the sidelines of everyone’s story. To you, you were always someone not worthy of a demanding person such as Draco. 

Why would someone important like him want to go out with you? That was something you would have to find out sooner or later in your life, and maybe this date would be the perfect opportunity to ask Draco about this, hopefully he would answer truthfully. 

All of a sudden, the doors behind you opened slowly, causing you to turn around and stand up as you saw your date, eyeing you with a smile. “Y/N, for a minute there, I thought you were going to bail. Looks like I was wrong,” he said, still smiling. 

You let out a small laugh, “Now why would I do that?”

“I was waiting for you by your dorm room, like the gentleman I am, until when the doors opened, I was greeted by your roommate, who seemed very flustered by my gesture.”

“What gesture?” 

Draco confidently pulled up a bouquet of flowers from his back, presenting it to you with such pride in his face, “Then I asked where you were, and she said you weren’t there, leaving me to think, ‘Did she either bail, or was she already outside?’ so here I am.”

Still presenting the bouquet, you received it, smelling the freshness of the flowers with a smile on your face, “Gosh, you’re one kind of gentleman. Thank you for the flowers.” 

“A pretty girl should always have a pretty bouquet.”

You grinned, hoping your blush wasn’t evident. Draco placed his arm up, “Now, shall we?”

“We shall,” you agreed, taking his arm as you started walking away from Hogwarts. 

--

To your surprise, Draco brought you to Madam Pudifoot’s Tea Shop. It was the place people brought their dates to, for a more intimate time with them. This was your first time inside the place, and you now understood why it was a place for intimate dates. 

The teashop was a very quiet and tranquil place that had walls and floors of pink shades, screaming ‘Love,’ in the air as the different scents of teas gave a relaxing aura around the shop. Aside from a serene and silent touch to the shop, there were barely people inside, making things more private and affectionate for dates. 

Draco again to your surprise, held your hand as he made his way to an exact table, which Madam Pudifoot reserved for the two of you. It seemed as if Draco already made reservations beforehand, and it was weird because you haven’t really recalled establishments in Hogsmeade accepting reservations.  

When the two of you sat down, Draco surprisingly gave a warm smile to Madam Pudifoot, who handed the two of you her menus. “Take all the time you need, lovebirds.” she chuckled, then turned around, leaving Draco with a flustered you. 

“Um, Draco?” you brought down your menu to give your attention to Draco, who had his menu up, as he was still scanning for the right tea. 

“Ready to order already, Y/N?” he asked in a nervous yet playful tone which made him chuckle after, “I thought this was your first time here!” 

“No, actually I haven’t even looked at the menu,” you admitted embarrassingly, “I was just curious.”

“About?” His face was still covered by the menu, but fortunately, he seemed interested in what you had to bring up. 

“Why do I have the feeling that you secretly went all out with this date and got the chance to persuade Madam Pudifoot a table for us?” you blurted everything out awkwardly, which made you feel like jumping off a cliff. 

Draco pulled the menu down from his face, flashing a smirk, chuckling, “Because it’s true?”

You laughed in relief for not feeling like the craziest person in the entire town of Hogsmeade, “Oh, brilliant,” you replied. Then you shook your head, but still smiling cheekily, “But why?”

Draco tilted his head with a raised eyebrow, “Why what?”

“Why would you go all out for me?”

Draco narrowed his eyes and mouth, trying to contain his laughter, “Darling, have you not heard of Draco Lucius Malfoy? I’d go all out for you.”

You scoffed, playing with the fabric of the table’s smooth cloth. “I think we barely know each other though. This is clearly our first time actually interacting with each other properly.” 

After clasping his hands, he pulled his hands away, tilting his palms to face each other, “Alright, why don’t we get to know each other then?” he suggested. You nodded, which made him speak again, “Okay, let me start.”

“What do you want to know, Draco?”

“What do you want to do after Hogwarts?” he prompted. 

Your eyes drifted away from the boy in front of you as you pondered on the many occupational choices when Hogwarts ended. 

“Either a Hit-Witch or an Auror,” you shrugged, “I haven’t given much thought about it but the last time I did, I was looking into those two.”

“Intriguing,” he acknowledged, sounding highly surprised and in awe, “I never imagined you as either of those, but I know you’d be one of the best that I can feel safe at night.”

“Oh, please,” you waved off the flattery in embarrassment, “Neither did I see myself as one of those jobs. But, their job descriptions really do call me. What about you, Draco?”

Draco shrugged as well, “Possibly an Auror as well. Father thinks I can make my way to the top easily and become the Minister of Magic later on.” 

“Right, and then I can TOTALLY feel safe at night with you as Minister.” you teased, earning a grin from his face. 

“Oh, shut it, Y/N, you better take that back or else when I become Minister, I’d gladly remove you from your job.” 

“Has your mother ever taught you how to threaten a lady?” 

“Now, now, Y/N, we mustn’t go there,” he playfully warned you. 

“You’re right, we actually should order something before Madam Pudifoot thinks we’re using her place just to have a thrilling conversation.” 

Draco scoffed, smiling cheekily at himself as he enjoyed being with you. After taking a quick look from the menu, he raised his hand, signaling Madam Pudifoot to come by your table. Once she saw Draco’s hand, she quickly hurried by. 

“I was suspecting to think you two lovelies were having a good time and forgot about the tea,” she teased the two of you. 

Draco smirked, looking at her confidently, “What can I say?” he shrugged, “Once you enjoy the company of someone as enthralling as her, you just forget that time passes by. I could spend the whole day talking to her, and I wouldn’t take notice of time going by. What do you think, Y/N?” he now looked at you, grinning. 

Madam Pudifoot, interested by the action going on between you two, looked rapidly to you now, wanting to know what you’d say. 

“I think we should order,” you pointed out the obvious sarcastically, to hold yourself from melting over Draco’s words. 

“Hiding how you feel now, are we?” he checked on you, still grinning with pleasure. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, finally in defeat, “Okay, so I agree with what you say,” you replied and shrugged, “And I possibly have a mindfulness of you as a wholebeing. Now, can we order?” 

Draco opened his mouth in agreement, his mouth was open, but it was with a big smile, “Ah,” he said, pointing at you, “Careful darling, you’re starting to sound as if you care. It would be... unwise, of you to lead on, something such as I.” 

“Alright,” you sarcastically shrugged. You now looked up to Madam Pudifoot, who seemed to be gushing over what she was witnessing. You ended her gushing by deciding to order, “Okay, Madam, I’ll have a warm chamomile tea. And you, Draco?” you asked, now looking back at Draco. 

“I think I’ll have the same,” he nodded at her. 

“Excellent!” Madam Pudifoot said, closing her notepad, which had her magical quill inside it, “Right away, you two!” then she turned around, briskly walking away. 

This left you and Draco once again, together alone. He leaned onto the table, placing his folded hands on the edge of the table as he let his body lean over to you slightly. “So,” he whispered, “So you do like me?”

“I think I said I possibly have a mindfulness of you.” you smirked.

“It’s another way of saying that you care for me, and thus, that leads to liking me.” he reasoned out. 

“Pansy and Daphne care for you, but do they like you?” you pointed that fact out. He shook his head, rolling his eyes, “That’s different. They’re not here with me on a date, are they?”

“True,” you said, eyeing and receiving the tea that Madam Pudifoot had given the two of you just now. “I guess I’m the lucky girl who's about to take sudden interest in me,” you half-jokingly said. 

Draco beamed, silently sipping from his warm cup of tea. After a good sip, he shook his head, patting a cloth of napkin on his lips softly, as his eyes were back onto you. “I’m afraid you’re far too late my dear, you already have me thoroughly captivated.” 

Your eyes smiled affectedly, highlighting the sudden blush you had on your face. It felt as if you skipped a heartbeat, surprised with his words as you gulped the sip you were about to swallow. After swallowing carefully, you slowly placed the cup back on the table, leaving the warmth from your fingers. 

Chuckling lightly at yourself, you said, “That fast?” 

“Don’t think you had me captivated just today, dear Y/N,” he pointed out, “I may or may not have had eyes for you for quite some time.” 

“You couldn’t have possibly, Draco,” you narrowed your eyebrows, light-heartedly denying his statement. 

“Oh, but I have!” he admitted confidently. He fixed his sitting position, causing him to enthusiastically lean towards you, “You my darling, are one unique girl.”

“Is that so?” 

“I’ve never met another girl who could be so patient and loving to tutor anyone. I would be vastly impatient and non-committal to such things. I couldn’t possibly handle dealing with those… children. And of course the low-brains of our year.” 

You were extremely flattered by what Draco had said, causing you to simply flash a warm smile at him, bringing back the tea in your hands as you started sipping your chamomile tea once again. 

--

The date you had at Madam Puddifoot had unfortunately come to an end. Once the teacups were empty and your stomachs were full, Draco had paid for the expenses of the teas like the gentleman he was and pulled you up from your seat, waving goodbye to a happy Madam Pudifoot. 

Now, you and Draco were walking together around Hogsmeade. While you were looking around the shops passing by you, Draco’s eyes were taking a few glances at his hand and yours, wishing he had the courage to hold your hand. 

Somewhere under his nervous thoughts, his confident aura had started picking up again, reminding him of the smooth person he had in himself. There was a small smirk in his face as he perfectly knew what to do. 

“Y/N?” he asked, sounding curious. 

“Yes, Draco?” you asked, looking at him now. 

“It came to my attention that it seems your hand looks heavy.”

“Heavy?”

“Yes, in fact, would you like me to hold it for you?” he nonchalantly asked, giving himself an innocent tone to such a smooth question. This leads you to widen your eyes with such flattery in your face. Aside from blushing madly, you chuckled in embarrassment, feeling so unprepared with words to reply to him. 

“Oh,” was all you could say at first, “I’d love that, they do awfully look heavy don’t they?” 

“Indeed, I’m surprised myself. Lucky for you I’m here to address the issue.”

“What if you weren’t, though?”

“From now on, expect me to always be around. I doubt there would be another soul at school who could point out that issue. They’re too blind to see the little things such as that.”

You smiled at yourself, taking in the compliment that Draco had bestowed upon you, waving your hand with his, back and forth merrily. 

“Draco?”

“Yes, Y/N?” he asked, imitating your voice from earlier, causing you to roll your eyes playfully. 

“Did you really mean it back at the tea shop?”

“Mean what?” He asked, stopping you and him from walking any further. 

“How you were captivated by me? Have you really been fancying me for some time?” 

“I know it sounds bizarre, you know, for me to come out suddenly to tell you how I feel but I do, I do have fancied you for some time. I-I like you.”

“That’s good then,” you truthfully told him, “Because I like you too.” you courageously admitted to him. 

Draco flashed the biggest smile he had ever shown in his facial expression. This smile may have had a smirk in his mouth, but it was also filled with genuine happiness, something he rarely felt and gave out.

Without hesitating, he grabbed you by the face, cupping your soft, smooth face with his hands as he shot a kiss on your lips. It was a short but whole-hearted kiss, which he had been dreaming about ever since he took interest in you. You were a little surprised that it was a short one, this was because he felt that he might have been overstepping his ‘first date boundaries’, so he was making his way on ending the kiss by slowly pulling himself from you. 

It was like you instantly read his mind, knowing that he was scared of overstepping his boundaries, but you answered his issue by pulling him back in, finishing the kiss with a much longer time given. Once you were done, the two of you synchronously pulled away from each other, looking at each other with such care in your eyes. 

Your eyes widened with realization, “Merlin’s beard!” you exclaimed, causing Draco to feel terror in his body. 

“W-what? Is everything okay? Did I do something wrong?”

“No! I did!”

Draco frowned, assuming you felt the kiss was a mistake. “Oh, I see,” he said, only for you to wave your hands in front of him.

“Heavens no! I mean, I should have kissed you first!”

Draco raised an eyebrow, deeply confused, “You? Why? That’s not the right way to go, it should be the gentleman first.”

“Well, that doesn’t matter if I could have got you back with a pick up line!” 

Draco laughed, exhaling a wave of relief to hear your explanation, “Bloody hell, Y/N, all for a pick up line?”

“Yes! I thought of a good one which came well with the situation right now!”

“Alright,” Draco chuckled, “Let’s have a go with it, then.”

You composed yourself, breathing in to say, “Draco, do these smiles come with kisses?”

Draco nodding in agreement that your pick up line was a good one said, “Of course they do. Would you like them now?”

“Without a doubt,” you replied, knowing that Draco was about to lean in and kiss you. 

[libsterslobsters]

I'm Gonna Crawl: Post 2

Post 1

Summary: Five years. That's how long the reader and Bucky have been apart (although for him, it was only five minutes) Now with Thanos defeated and both of them taking up the mantle of Avengers, can their relationship return to what it was? Or will they have to discover a new normal?

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x fem! enhanced! super-soldier! Reader (Reader can see pieces of the future in visions as well as speak every language)

Warnings: Angst, fluff, language, smut (IF YOU ARE UNDER EIGHTEEN, DON'T READ!!!)

*************************************************

One of the perks of being “enhanced” or in this case, a super soldier, is that you heal quickly. Within seventy-two hours, the bullet wound in his leg (not to mention the cut and black eye he sustained from several sharp blows to the face) and her matching one in the shoulder are almost completely healed, only a vague pink mark to show they were ever injured. The downside is-

“Do you want to punch sandbags until they fly off the hook, or run thirty miles around the compound first? I’ll start with whichever you don’t pick.” -they’re back to training as well.

He almost answers that he really doesn’t want to do either, it’s Sunday morning, for fuck’s sake, but it’s not like this is her first choice for what she could be doing this morning either, so he goes with-

“Punching things first. Think I woke up on the wrong side of the bed, so I’d best get it out of my system.” She nods and, squeezing his arm, takes off at a jog.

“See you on the other side.”

His instinct is to tell her to take it easy, she lost a lot of blood the other day and who knows if there’s been some bone or muscular damage that hasn’t quite fixed itself yet, but again, he swallows it down and focuses on the task at hand. Namely, taking out his bad mood on a punching bag.

Usually, when his body is in motion, his mind is at least somewhat at rest, but this time around, the exertion is just adding fuel to the flames. He’s too pissed off to just zone out and concentrate on hitting the target, still too busy trying to process what the hell happened three nights ago.

It was their first mission together. She’s been on a few separate from him, and he and Sam get called out together on the regular. Stupidly, he assumed that, since her specialty is translating or gathering intel, maybe being the little voice in someone’s ear to direct them through a maze of assailants and twisting corridors her visions had allowed her a glimpse of ahead of time, she’d be out of the line of fire. At the very least, most of the attention would be on him and Sam. But no, she was the bogey. She drew fire while he waltzed through a military fortress, recapturing stolen tech. When Rhodey so much as mentioned that possibility, he should’ve told him no, hard no. If anyone’s drawing fire, it’s him. Still, in his arrogance, he assumed it wouldn’t come to that extreme. Sam’s good at his job, and as much as he hates the reason behind it, so is he. They should’ve been able to hold the line without her painting a target on her back.

That, of course leads to yet another issue. He’s also pissed at himself for instinctively seeing her as more fragile, something that needs to be protected. Even before the same chemicals running through his veins infected her, she’d proven that she’s a damn capable person. He knows that she’s smart, both strategically and academically. Add onto that the fact that she’s fast and strong, not to mention she has visions (less than helpful ones most of the time, but they have their moments), and she’s a powerful ally. He certainly wouldn’t want to be on her bad side. And yet, when he saw that she’d been hit, his mind completely emptied. He wouldn’t have been able to remember which end of a gun to use if his life depended on it, because all he could think was, “Oh god. She’s hurt.” It’s old-fashioned, outdated. He should be past this mindset, at least when it comes to work. Out there, she’s his fellow soldier, not the woman he lies awake next to in bed, sometimes for hours, just to listen to her breath and know he’s not alone. Did Steve ever put Peggy in that box, he wonders? No, of course not, because Steve’s a better man than he ever was or will ever be. So yeah, he’s pissed off at himself.

And finally, although he can barely admit it to his own mind, he’s pissed off at her. Logically he knows it’s mostly fear, some primal instinct to protect what’s his, but every time he imagines her being shot, having a bullet pass by her lungs and arteries by a very narrow margin, and then telling Sam not to let him know that she was hit, it irks him. Did she think he’d come unhinged? Screw up? Or is she stuck in the mindset she seems to have adopted as a response to the last five years of “Screw looking after myself. It doesn’t matter.” A small part of him realizes that he didn’t call in either when he took a bullet, but that’s him! And, now he’s circling back to guilt for treating her like she’s weak.

All in all, he’s so damn furious that he doesn’t realize he’s no longer alone until she grabs hold of his arm just as he goes to swing again.

“Jesus, Bucky. I know you’re grouchy, but don’t you think destroying five punching bags in thirty minutes is enough? Save some aggression for the run.”

He looks up to tell her something (I’m sorry? Damn right I’m grouchy? Let me take you home and wrap you in blankets so that nothing will ever hurt you again?) and catches sight of her sweat-soaked face. He hates how far she takes things with the running. It’s like she’s trying to see what the limits are, how much she can punish her body before it gives out and she drops. That’s what it was in the very beginning after the snap. She’s told him that. Now he wonders if she’s really as recovered from everything that’s happened as she claims.

“Have you had anything to drink? Water, or-” She groans and reaches to detach the punching bag (there’s a decent sized rip in it where he was hitting it over and over), making her shirt ride up. Her clothes were already so tight that just seeing her out of the corner of his eye was making it hard to think, but now they’re completely adhered to her in a way that’s nearly obscene thanks to all the sweat. Dammit. Think about something else. He needs to think about something else.

“Yes, I’m on my second water bottle, thank you Barnes. I’m not stupid, you know.”

“Just self-destructive.” It slips out before he can stuff it down. Her mouth falls open in shock momentarily, but then she squares her shoulders and looks him directly in the eyes.

“You’re one to talk. Always running straight towards the fire instead of putting it out first.”

“That’s my job.”

“It’s your hangup.” She laughs bitterly. “Bucky Barnes, the big, bad Winter Soldier. You’ve decided you’re so fucked up that the only way you can make amends is to run headlong towards whatever’s trying to kill you, without backup I might add, and keep to your mission no matter what your personal damage is.”

“Says the woman who took a bullet and stopped Sam from announcing that you’re hit.” They’re teetering closer and closer to a fight with every nearly snarled word, but he’s powerless to stop it. In fact, he’s ready to go. Have it out. But not right now, because-

“Hey.” He catches her arm just as she starts to hoist another punching bag onto the hook. “Be careful! You’re still healing.” -she’s hellbent on hurting herself. Again.

She whirls around as if he’s slapped her.

“Oh my god. You have to stop.”

“Stop what?”

“Stop treating me like I’m going to break!” Her voice is shrill, rising higher and higher with each syllable. “I love you, but you are driving me insane. I am not your child-”

“No, you’re the person I want to marry!” He takes a deep breath, preparing to follow up with, “-and you keep acting like you have a death wish”, but before he can-

“You won’t even fuck me anymore!” Immediately, her eyes go wide and she slaps a hand over her mouth.

If her declaration surprised her, it absolutely stunned him so, not quite sure what else to do, he takes a few steps back and sits down. A few seconds pass before she approaches and, with a heavy sigh, sinks down next to him.

“Bucky, I am so sorry. I don’t know where any of this is coming from-”

“I think you do, Doll.” Her eyes dart nervously between his face and the floor. On instinct, he reaches over and takes her hand. “And so do I.” He takes a few moments to rearrange his thoughts before pushing ahead. “A lot has changed since-”

“The world ended. We lost. And then we won.” He nods.

“Yeah, and I don’t think either of us have quite wrapped our heads around it. I know I haven’t.”

It’s silent for a moment, and then, voice trembling, she tells him,

“After you went away, I was completely lost. Didn’t know why I had to stay. What kind of cruel trick is it, just when everything was starting to go right-” He finally had the poison of HYDRA sucked out of him, she’d found a safe place where she didn’t have to run and hide because of something she was born with, he’d worked up the nerve to ask her if she’d maybe one day be his wife. “-and then it’s wiped out? You finally went somewhere I couldn’t follow.” He still can’t imagine what those five years must’ve been like, not just for her, but everyone else who survived the snap. “I didn’t want to keep going. But I had to.” She chuckles. “Steve wouldn’t let me throw in the towel.”

A smile forms on his own face. “Yeah, he had a habit of doing that.”

“I guess…” She sighs. “I don’t know. I got harder, rougher around the edges. I thought I could just go back to normal once everyone came back-”

“But old habits die hard.” It’s not a question, but she nods.

“Yeah, and as much as I chip away at it, I’m not sure I’ll ever get back to who I was before.”

“You won’t.” She peers up at him, eyes wide in shock, maybe a hint of sadness. “I can tell you that right now from experience. You won’t go back, but-” He’s had a lot of time to consider this, so he can say it and absolutely believe it. “-I love the girl that’s here now. She’s pretty amazing, rough edges and all.”

She’s sitting so close. He could pull her into his lap, just hold her for a minute. So, that’s what he does, and just like the first time, they fit together perfectly, like she was made to fit in his arms, or maybe he was made to hold her. Either way, it leaves no doubt in his mind that they belong together.

“You changed. Everyone does. You got stronger and tougher, because that’s who you had to be. And I wasn’t there to change with you.” He can feel her shoulders shake, and even though she’s facing away from him, he knows she’s fighting back tears. “But I’m gonna catch up. It’s just taking me a while to get it through my thick skull that my girl’s a badass, and I need to ease off the bodyguard routine a little.” There. That’s more like it. A laugh, even if it’s a small one. “I just worry about you, is all. I don’t know how to stop it, and I’m not sure I can, but I’m working on it.”

“I worry about you too, you know.” She sniffs, swiping at her nose with her hand. “I’m fucking terrified because, now that I’m like you, I know what your limits are. I’m scared you’ll forget them, or you’ll ignore them because you’re trying to be a good man.” She cranes her head, meeting his gaze. “But you are a good man, Bucky Barnes. You never stopped being one, no matter what you think.”

“I think your picture of me might be more flattering than who I really am.”

“Shut up.” She presses her palm over his mouth. “I have visions, so seeing is never my problem. And it’s not the way I’m picturing you. We’ve known each other long enough for the shine to wear off.” Never. It’ll never be possible for him to know her so long that she’s not absolutely golden from where he’s standing. “It’s who you’ve shown me you are. And if the rest of the world doesn’t see it, that’s their problem. Not yours.”

He’s not sure if he buys all that, but it’s enough that she does. She sees him as that man, so he’ll try every day of his life to be just that.

“Come on.” Gently pushing her off of him, he stands and offers her his hand. “That’s enough training for today. We’re still wounded.”

She chuckles. “Is that your excuse for calling it early?”

He nods, barely suppressing a grin. “That, and you’ve gotta change into something that doesn’t fit you like a second skin before my brain permanently short-circuits.”

“Showers, then?”

“Showers.”

___________________________________________________________________________________

The compound sustained heavy damage thanks to Thanos crashing a ship into it, but in the past few months (helped along by Pepper’s billions and the entire galaxy’s appreciation towards the Avengers in equal parts), enough repairs have been done to make it partially usable. In this case, the locker room. Just the one, though. Which, of course means co-ed showers.

She won’t admit it, but she’s particularly appreciative of that little detail today. As she circled the compound on her last lap, she saw that the only two cars there are hers and Barnes. They’re the only two people here, and she fully intends to use that to her advantage.

“Join me? I don’t want to overextend my shoulder trying to wash my hair or back.” It’s a blatant lie, and from his expression, she can tell that he knows it too. But, he nods.

“Yeah, doll. I can do that.” Part one of the plan has been executed beautifully. Onward to part two.

She purposely leaves the travel sized bottles of shampoo and body wash on the floor so that, after rinsing off for far longer than is really necessary, she has to bend over to retrieve them. If it weren’t for her enhanced hearing, she’d completely miss the sharp intake of breath in response to her little show, but she catches it and can’t help grinning to herself. Part two: get him as worked up as she is. So far, so good.

The feeling of his fingers massaging her scalp, working the shampoo through her hair, is almost enough to make her forget that she’s a woman on a mission. Almost. As soon as she’s rinsed the soap out of her face, she turns to him.

“Your turn. Bend.” It’s not the first time they’ve done this, and as always, she has to fight back a laugh as he inclines his head towards her, the entirety of his hair falling forward to cover his face. “This used to take a lot longer before you decided to chop it all off.” He chuckles, eyes closed against the soap.

“What can I say? Seventy-three years without a haircut is my limit.” She can’t blame him, and although it was a shock at first, she’s come to like this new look. It makes him look…younger, somehow. More boyish. Like his life hasn’t contained as many horrors as they both know full well it has.

“You checking for lice or something?”

“Huh?” That jerks her out of her sentimental daze. “Looks like you’re clear.”

There’s no way to put it politely. She’s straight up ogling him as he rinses off. Five damn years…

“Ready to get your back?” And, she just got caught staring.

“Sure.”

His hands are gentle, putting as little pressure on her injured shoulder as possible, growing firmer as they work down her back. She holds her breath as she feels his palms ghost over the swell of her ass, but then he’s back to safer territory. At least, that’s what she thinks until the metal arm snakes around her chest, just below her breasts, holding her in place. His free hand runs down from her sternum to her middle, stopping just above her hips, then- fuck. Nothing. He’s backing away.

“Do you need help with your legs?” No, what she needs help with is located between them. Suddenly, the shower feels far too hot, and she’s desperate to cool off.

“That’s okay.” Her voice is shaky, and she mentally berates herself as she steps under the spray, rinsing away the soap.

She’s not at all sure that her excuse for leaving the shower and going to towel off made any sense, but with a few feet between them, she’s able to breath again. Alright, scratch the whole “shower seduction” idea. It wasn’t that great to begin with. She gets him as hot and bothered as she is, and then what? Shower sex is a slippery affair, and plus there’s the height difference… in the steamed up mirror, she catches sight of him climbing out of the shower and toweling off. Fuck it. What does she have to lose?

“Come here.” As he turns around, she hops up on the counter top (thank fuck Stark went all out and got the sinks that can easily hold the weight of an adult), allowing her towel to slip further down her chest.

She doesn’t miss the way his eyes flit down to her cleavage before settling back on her face as he stands in front of her.

“Yeah, Doll?”

“Let me get your hair. You’ll never get it dry yourself.” She’s really running low on excuses, but if she plays her cards right, she won’t have to keep up this ruse for much longer.

“You know-” She murmurs against his ear as she starts working a towel over his tousled locks, “-if you don’t take me right now, I’m gonna be really offended.”

His head snaps up, and she nearly drops the towel.

“Well, I can’t let that happen, can I?”

She has a smart-ass remark all planned out, but then his lips are pressed against hers, hard, insistent, and her brain completely empties of anything other than pure need. She’s not completely sure how, but somehow the towel wrapped around her torso (it’s so short, it didn’t even cover her ass sitting down) disappears, leaving them chest to chest, both still slightly damp from the shower. On instinct, her legs wrap around his back, bringing them so close together she can feel his cock twitch against her thigh.

“The floor, or-” It’s murmured against her ear between nibbles.

“No. Here.” It’s all she can do to hold back a moan as his whole body rumbles with quiet laughter.

“Someone’s eager.”

She leans back far enough to peer into his eyes.

“And you’re not?” The response is a thumb against her clit, and she has to bite down hard on his shoulder to muffle a yelp.

“If I’d known you were ready, you wouldn’t have gotten any sleep for the past two months.” That would’ve been a very small price to pay.

Five years is a long time, and her body tenses up at the intrusion of his finger inside of her, but she immediately forces her muscles to relax, and within seconds, it’s all she can do not to writhe against him.

“That’s it. Relax. I’ll take care of you.” It’s a lost cause. This is going to be noisy. She hazily thinks to herself that it’s all his fault.

He’s always been one for foreplay, making sure she’ll be comfortable once they actually get around to the main event, but finally enough is enough and, reaching between them, she stills his wrist.

“Get inside me.”

“Are you sure? You’re still tight-” Disentangling one of her arms from around his neck, she gives his hair a sharp tug.

“I’m like you now, remember? You’re not going to break me.”

He pulls back from her, hesitating, eyes darting between her face and the door.

“What?”

“I don’t have-” Oh. She quickly runs the calculations in her head. Given which day of the month it is, the likelihood would be-

“It’ll be fine. Just pull out.” To her relief, he doesn’t argue.

Her breath catches as he pushes inside of her, and if the panting against her neck is anything to judge from, she’s not the only one affected.

“It’s been too damn long.” Despite the situation (or perhaps because of it), she laughs breathlessly.

“You think it’s been too long? Try five fucking years!” His laugh tickles her neck.

“You’re never gonna stop using that one, are you?”

“Nope. I think I’ve earned the right.” After all, he constantly reminds her that he had to wait 98 years to meet the love of his life, so fair is fair.

“Then I guess I’ll just have to make it up to you.”

“Sounds like you just set yourself a challenge.”

“Guess I’d better get to work then.” As he says it, he pulls nearly all the way out only to slam back in again.

It’s primal, the way their bodies move together, desperate for a connection that’s been missing for so long. There’s no room or need for words to be spoken; their gasped breaths and strangled moans say it all. His hand sneaks between them, toying with her nub, and that’s what sends her over the edge. It’s the tipping point for him too because, muffling his cries against her shoulder, he pulls out just in time.

“We shoulda done that before the shower.” She’s still gasping for breath, but it forces a laugh from her. He follows suit, offering her a spare towel to clean herself up.

“You’ve been holding out on me, Barnes.” He shoots her a questioning look as she hops down on shaky legs. “I thought it was good before, but damn.”

He laughs, pulling on his jeans. “I didn’t want to risk breaking the bed. I’m a gentleman like that.” She knows the real concern was her safety, but if she concentrates on that too hard, she’ll start going mushy, and in this instance, crying after sex seems like it would kill the mood.

“You know-” She pulls her t shirt over her head, not bothering with a bra. “-I never really liked the bed I have now anyway.” It’s also really too small for two full-grown adults to share comfortably.

Sliding his duffle bag over his shoulder, he takes her hand. “Then maybe we should go home? Give you an excuse to get a new one?” Before she can answer-

“Go home. Please, I’m begging you, for the love of god, go.” Her eyes dart towards the source of the noise. The door, or more specifically, the other side of it. “Hearing you and the bionic man fucking once was enough. I’m gonna shoot you both and then myself if I have to listen to round two.”

Bucky catches her eye and mouths “Oops!”, sending her into a fit of giggles.

“You know Sam, you could’ve just walked away. You didn’t have to wait outside the door like a creep.” She has to bite her fist to keep from laughing out loud.

“Yeah, trust me. I could hear you from all the way down the hall.”

“Sorry.” She gasps it out between bouts of laughter, and she must be pulling a funny face, because he snickers to.

“No, you’re not.” No, she really isn’t. Just that they got caught.

“We’re heading out. You’ve got the place to yourself.” Giving his hand a tug, she pulls open the door, revealing a flustered Sam.

“I hope you remembered to wipe down the counter, you nasties!”

As they make their way down the corridor, Bucky calls out,

“See you Monday?”

“Yeah. And you’d better be wearing pants!”

[seostudios]

happy without me: all about luv - h.rj

ALL ABOUT LUV ‣ HAPPY WITHOUT ME

just face it, she’s happy without you. but i don’t believe it, is she really?

paring: huang renjun x fem!reader

genre: angst, fluff

word count: 2.5k

info: exes to lovers!au, non-idol!au, college!au, cousin!jaemin

warnings: sensitive themes, emotional abuse, verbal abuse, toxic relationship, mention of rape and sexual assault, sexual assault, explicit/vulgar language 

tag list: @jenotation @luvlyjaemin @woofie-nctzen-fanarts-320 @tzuqui @sunnyrenjunnie @nino7011 @thatanonymousgirl-as14 @minhehe @chrspychan @jimelonji @mykokorobeats4u @aminihhj @jeonjungkat @wishfulldreamss @ilymarkchan @ja3hy4n @beautifulbakerycookiegiant @jisungiepwark52 @sharamanne @commentgirl @littlefluu @chicksung​ @lixseu​ @jenosgirlllll​

a/n: i’m sorry this is so short i did renjun dirty :( i got writers block writing it but it’s ok! ill do better on the next one which is chenle or jeno (prolly jeno) i gotta chekc but yay finally part 2 to all about luv

APRIL IN JEJU

It's been 7 months since you've parted ways with your first love. You two were the supposed high school sweethearts of your year so it confused most of the other students when they found out. Renjun and you were meant for one another but the fact he decided on attending SKKU since had received a scholarship for his outstanding academic records, he couldn't turn down the offer and was determined on enrolling however you were attending Cheju Halla University which was all the way in Jeju City. That was a 55-minute plane ride away from Renjun! Avoiding the future relationship problems to come from long-distance you two would most likely face, the breakup was mutual and you two parted ways at the airport indulging in a rather pitiful hug.

Here you were, walking through the Department of Equine Science, trailing behind your friends Soomin and Mina. It was the first time you decided to skip class and it was thrilling in your opinion, "Come on, they're waiting!" Soomin whisper-yelled. They?

You make sure to ask her who 'they' were since you and Mina weren't standing dumbfounded and possibly in trouble. "The volleyball team dummy," Soomin says skipping to past the classrooms into Gym A. It brought you back to the old times, visiting Renjun during Soccer practice, making sure he's well-fed and not overworked. Quickly snapping out of it you join the girls on the bleachers to cheer on the boys. Although you are able to tell people you've moved on from your first love, you've spent restless nights looking back at your messages, pictures just reminiscing the past.

The butterflies he's caused you still flutter every now and then hoping their commotion was heard and you've finally made the big move back to Seoul but sadly you haven't gotten up and gone yet.

Tonight you were preparing for a mini-quiz, it so happened that Mina shared the class with you. Scheduling a sleepover at Soomin's place here you all are sitting in her living room stuffing your faces with whatever salty and sweet treats her mom had bought. "Oh. My. God." Mina tells you after reading your DM request on Instagram, "What?" you ask confused over what she thought was so extraordinary. She motions Soomin to look at your earning a surprised what the fuck from the girl. "Min-fucking-Ho wants to DM you... He's like one of the hottest guys in our division and has never been seen with a girl so wanting to text you definitely a what the fuck moment. You shake your head before opening the DM request..."He's asking me out for dinner?" You say which Soomin demands you to accept the offer before he moves on. "You've gotta move on from Renjun you know? He won't come by swooping you by the legs asking you for his hand in marriage. He's all the way in Seoul Y/n, I'm pretty sure he's moved on by now with someone else it's time you do too. Now hand e your phone so I can tell him you want to go on that date." Mina tells you after you attempt to reject Minho. She gave you the truth even if it hurt (a lot), you sigh in defeat handing over your phone.

"Can't believe you're going on a date with Minho," Soomin says watching Mina type away. "I know right, lucky girl" Mina replies as you nod. 

APRIL IN SEOUL

Meanwhile, at SKKU Renjun's majoring in Arts & humanities. Languages, Literature & Linguistics which has been taking up most of his time keeping his mind off his recent split. He was devastated the first week but had to obviously push it aside if he wanted extraordinary marks just like in high school, even if he wanted his thoughts to be occupied with your figure in his head he simply couldn't know his classes were paying attention to him along with the other honor students that attended on a scholarship.

"Is that your girlfriend?" Jeno, Renjun's only friend at Sungkyunkwan asked. He's got to know Renjun for who he was today but he's never really opened up about his life before University. Jeno noticed Renjun staring at your recent Instagram post for a little too long to not think you were at least flirting in direct messages. "No," He said quick and panicky before shoving his phone back into his pocket, after relaxing he turns to Jeno. "She's my ex, we broke up 7 months ago." Jeno's mouth goes agape momentarily in realization, "Why? If you don't mind me asking..." He asked the smaller boy beside him. "She went to Jeju for University when SKKU was just a 20-minute train ride from our neighborhood," Renjun replied with a scoff recollecting the memory of the day you told him you got accepted into Cheju Halla. Jeno nods understandingly deciding to continue studying instead of riling him up.

JULY IN JEJU

A full three months have passed and you were still in the first place you were in back in April, heartbroken. Although a lot of things have drastically changed since April it had only made you feel worse about yourself. For starters, you've been 'dating' Minho since April even if you realized on the first date he had only wanted you to fulfil his sexual desires. He's strung his act long enough and you've tried breaking up with the boy for a month now but he won't let you, he's always threatening you "I'll tell the school what type of whore you are."  or something about inflicting pain on someone close to you like Soomin or Mina, which is why you've kept quiet for about the last three weeks.

You were in pulled harshly by the arm by Minho as he pulled you into the supply closet of the Gymnasium, “Minho, I don’t want you to touch me there,” You politely ask the boy who’s currently taking advantage of his supposed spouse. “I don’t even want to date you! Why do you keep acting like this- Let go!” You whisper-yell to Minho who’s trailing his hands up and in between your thighs. "Shut up," He simply tells you before snaking his hand to your mouth shutting you up as you let out a choked cry.

JULY IN SEOUL

"She looks so happy with that Minho, right?” Renjun asked Jeno, scrolling through your tagged post. “I mean from what we know yeah,” He tells him. Renjun sighs, he knew he would genuinely be happy for you if you moved on but it had seemed rather quick. "It's almost been a year, she's moved on. Why don't you?" Jeno asked innocently. Renjun had a gut feeling of some sort; telling him not to move on and instead of ignoring it like you (which brought you nowhere since you're still deeply in love with him) did he's just kept a close eye on you. Shaking his head no he tells Jeno, "Something isn't right about.." He lifts the  phone to the photo of you and Minho, Mina had tagged you in, "That."

DECEMBER IN JEJU

"I promise I'll text you, I just need to get off this freaking island for winter break at least." You tell Mina and Soomin on Face-time, "Okay we will miss you! How did Minho take this? It's your first Christmas together and you leave?" She asked worriedly. You mumble a fuck before looking at the camera. "I didn't tell him," You say earning gasps from the two. "He's your boyfriend though.." Soomin said; "Who doesn't treat me like a fucking human being." Your words were strong, rippling a wave of awkwardness, "I'm fine by the way I’m staying with my cousin Jaemin, but if I don't come back it’s cause he spoilt me into staying."

DECEMBER IN SEOUL

"Merry Almost Christmas!" Renjun screeches before entering his shared apart with his new friend group, Jeno had introduced Renjun to his best pal, Jaemin and Renjun had taken in a very lonely Haechan later introducing him to the two. Today they were all celebrating their first Christmas together with a classic holiday film and cupcakes every day until Christmas.

"Guys we have a guest today!" Jaemin sings opening the door widely to show a shorter girl beside the boy with a suitcase in hand.

"What are you doing here?" Renjun and you said simultaneously as you locked eye contact. "I'm visiting Jaemin, my cousin." You tell him hands moving into the air to point towards the boy, "I am Jaemin's roommate." He responded before getting up from the couch brushing off the crumbs off his lap before walking towards the door to stand in front of you. He hadn't grown any taller still rocking his tiny 5'7 figure, but tall enough to tower over you, who hadn't grown since freshman year.

"She's here." Jeno tells Renjun who's head is under the pillow, "She's here." Jeno repeats, "She's here, She's here," Renjun whispered to himself taking it all in. He always wished for you to get off the fucking island go back into his arms, transferring to SKKU, knowing you had the skill to land a spot without hesitation, but finally seeing you after 10 months of no contact was frightening to him. Why did you seem so brittle? You looked pained, it wasn't his job to care about you anymore, but he couldn't help himself. He loved you more than himself and there's a (humongous) chunk of him that still did. Renjun gets up and sits crisscrossed on the single bed across from Jeno's bed where he was idling on his phone laying down "She's here but she's not here." He said which caught Jeno's attention, his face wrinkling in confusion. "She's not okay, something's wrong. I know it," He finishes getting up to walk out to you- who's catching up with Jaemin in the kitchen while preparing for dinner, stopping immediately as a rush of nerves came over him telling him to stop.

"Hope you boys like Hotteok!" You said facing Jeno and Haechan who were smiling in awe of your cooking skills, "I know Injun and Jaems like it so I made it tonight." You cheerfully smile towards the other two boys. “Glad to see you remembered,” It took a lot for Renjun to even say a sentence to you without having a gaze on you for a little too long afterwards.

It was his chance, he walked out of the bedroom the moment he saw you walk by his door towards the guest room. "Can I come in?" He asked. "Of course Injun," You couldn't believe yourself, being so calm and comfortable with all the tension. Had it really been ten months? He thought to himself as he sat beside you on the bed. "So," He rubbed his thighs nervously "How've you been?" Horrible. You stare down at the carpet admiring it while you figure a way to lie to the boy who knew you better than you knew yourself. "Fine,  I've been..." You sigh avoiding eye contact, "Fine." He looks at you concerned, "You can't lie to me Y/n." Grabbing your hand caressing it for a second knowing it relaxed you a bit in tough scenarios. Suddenly your phone began to ring, grabbing to read the caller id. "Oh, should I go?" Renjun asked after reading the contact name 'Minho' "No!" You shouted quickly grabbed his wrist pulling him back down before he walked out. Declining the call you spoke, "I'd talk to you over anyone any day." Damn, when did I get so smooth You mentally note that smirking to yourself slightly watching as Renjun bursted into a frenzy of laughter, "Smooth," He comments.

"So, was that Minho guy...your boyfriend?" He asked in which you replied with a strong No. "Well," You started "A boyfriend is someone who listens to me someone who values my opinions and beliefs. Someone who is truly interested in what you enjoy doing, or what you like most in life and interested in who I am as a person." You pause to see him grab you hand intertwining your hand, quickly signalling you to continue. "Someone who makes me laugh, or trusts me. But more importantly, disrespect me and force me into," Tears collected in your eyes threatening to fall, "Things." Renjun knows what to do to comfort you quickly pulling you into his embrace, melting when you wrap around him, head in the crook of his neck sobbing quietly. "He made me do things Renjun-ah. Horrible things. I hate him so much, I can't break up with him. Figured running away would've been a better option." He strokes your hair telling you it's okay and to relax. He couldn't help but smile though; he was right. He knew, he knew something was off and made it his number one priority to find out what it was, who would've known you would open up and make your first actual conversation with your ex- whom you dated for a nearly all of senior year about the toxic relationship you found yourself in after him.

JANUARY IN SEOUL

"I got to leave tomorrow." You told Renjun, whom you rekindled an old flame with over your stay. C

"Do you think about me sometimes? 'Cause I think about you sometimes" You asked Renjun looking at him from the mirror, as he watched you do your hair for an outing with your cousin. After that night in your bedroom, you decided on hanging out more and became close friends once more. But the butterflies in your stomach didn't leave, instead, they emitted flying more enthusiastically near him, with him. "I don't think about you sometimes 'Cause I think about you all the time," He said, which made you look down to the floor before turning around to face him. "It made me so jealous knowing you were so far away with that disgusting bastard happy without me" He grabs your hand; which you intertwine your fingers with happily a smile dancing upon your lips watching him reciprocate it.

"Stay." He tells you. You cuddle into his embrace as he caressed the top of your head. The two of your legs entangled under the sheets having one of your midnight talks. "You know I can't," You start quickly zipping your mouth not wanting to go any further, "Students who have outstanding academic records, or who have financial difficulties, who have submitted a complete scholarship application," Renjun said, which just made your jaw drop. Did he do his research?  "You can still enroll for the second semester which starts in two weeks. Have your friends send your belongings." He finished watching as you lifted yourself up resting your head in your palm. "Really?" You asked, breath taken away to say more. Could you really live here in Seoul? With Renjun? "Yes, I can kick Jeno into the guest room while we can have this room all to ourselves." He kissed the top of your hand watching the cheeky smile erupt from you with giggles. "We can be together." You said- asked to yourself, "We can be together" Renjun tells you before pulling you back. 

[magicalforcesau]

Dancing With Ghosts in Your Garden~ Chapter 16 - Year 2: December

(ao3 links)

Sidious always enjoyed maintaining collections.

He always considered himself a keen eye for artwork- taking special care to decorate and surround his space with intricate and often overlooked pieces that a meager outsider would deem worthless. As usual, their ignorance served to his benefit, allowing him to broaden a priceless treasure trove just beneath their noses. In a sense, it was most enjoyable that way- to accrue artwork and artifacts fundamental to preserving and cultivating the future of the Sith and for them to be none the wiser.

Little did they understand that the best costumes were woven with truth.

So, they could have their foolish little jokes about the junk he chose to decorate his environment with. They would not be laughing so merrily when the abstract paintings of enemy bloodshed cease to be so foreign to them. The carefully hidden devices that could provide centuries of torment would be useful one day.

As well as contingency plans that they might never know, because Sidious was nothing if not pragmatic.

He ran a long finger along a small wooden prism that sat upon his mantle, lips twitching upwards when it glowed red at his touch. He rolled it around his hand, practically shaking at the pure heat that emanated through him. Like Sidious, its walls remained intact and its passion while brimming at the surface, secured by purpose.

He took a deep breath and returned it to its place beside a cube that he didn’t need to touch to know it would not respond to him with such fervor, let alone at all. To him alone, it had no meaning.

But he would not be alone forever and he never did anything without meaning.

Sidious walked to his desk, taking a seat behind it as he took in his collection of pictures, each from a different era with different allies. Tyranus, of course, stood beside him in one of them, though surrounded by other faculty to maintain plausible deniability. Still, he couldn’t help but grimace at his supposed partner. It was no secret to him that Tyranus was taking his own measures. He would be dealt with should his insolence become too much of a problem for Sidious.

His yellow eyes drifted yet again to a picture only he knew to be cropped, one where there was once a Dathmorian smiling ferociously. He had half a mind to return it to its natural form, but as it were, there was no room on his desk for failure.

Besides, as he pulled out a fresh frame, he couldn’t help but feel a sense of giddiness overtake him.

He would need the space for the newest piece of his collection.

***

“I was under the impression that we were forbidding any holiday soirees this year.” Qui-Gon frowned and looked to his fellow Head of Houses for support, knowing he would find no such assistance from Palpatine in this particular situation.

“It’s hardly even that.” Palpatine said kindly, “It’s an academic dinner! And a necessary one, if I must say so myself.”

“And I have a feeling you will.” Qui-Gon muttered, earning him a warning look from Yoda, who always tried to remain neutral on such matters. “Regardless of intent, do you not see the hypocrisy of staging any sort of gathered event on school grounds when everything else has been banned?”

Including Qui-Gon’s own party, which this was only partially about.

“I’d say there’s a stark difference between a quiet dinner for 12-14 people and what has essentially become a rave over the years.” Palpatine countered with the barest traces of a smile, “And no offense to your own event, Professor Jinn, but do you not recall what happened last year at your party?”

Qui-Gon gritted his teeth, but held his tongue as the other professors eyed him carefully. He didn’t need to garner a reputation for throwing a tantrum every time something didn’t go his way, especially when it was being framed that he merely wanted to have his own holiday party.

“I am not saying mine or any other such parties should occur this year on property,” He said, “But if we are battening down the hatches, I don’t see why your academic dinner is exempt from the rules.”

“It’s essentially a networking event, Professor Jinn,” Palpatine twiddled his long fingers, “It would seem incredibly unfair to deprive Hogwarts’ best from learning how to navigate their futures.”

“Not a single person in this room received any such favoritism and I would say we turned out just fine,” Qui-Gon said, because really, at the core this was what it was all about. Every year, Palpatine hosted a private dinner for who he felt were the most prestigious and skilled witches and wizards of their year. This did not necessarily mean their grades or academic place guaranteed them a spot. It all depended on who Palpatine saw potential in.

“If I could possibly invite the whole student body, you know that I would.” The older man said with sympathetic gray eyes.

“Understand, I do.” Yoda nodded sagely, “Danger or not, continue school must, but safety precautions, there must be.”

“We’ll ensure it’s monitored.” Windu said with a curt nod, but whether it was meant for Qui-Gon or Palpatine was up for debate, “10 people tops, that includes plus one’s, and it will need to be over by curfew.”

“Ah yes, because Maul won’t show up until 10 pm.” Qui-Gon snorted, which earned him a glare from Windu this time. Shaak Ti, to her credit, seemed to be withholding a quiet laugh of her own.

“And all of us will monitor the dinner.” She said calmly, “We can’t take any chances by leaving students vulnerable.”

Qui-Gon eased a bit at that, though he still bristled at the way Palpatine’s smile took full form and then shrugged at him as though he were helpless to the decision. He’d never had any contempt for the older man, but he never appreciated smugness in any form.

“I’ll have to shorten my list a tad, but that can be done.” He nodded slowly.

As they were dismissed, Qui-Gon wasn’t surprised when Yoda asked him to stay back. After the door shut behind Palpatine and he was left alone with the little green Headmaster, he couldn’t help but feel like a student ready to receive detention.

“Feel your frustration, I do.” He said, “Find anything, have you?”

“No necklace.” Qui-Gon only stuttered a little bit, surprised that he wasn’t being chastised, “Though it no doubt came from Dooku’s office. And I’d know it if I saw it.”

“Scoured over everything in there, the aurors have.” Yoda said grimly, “Missing, a necklace was.”

“That’s what Anakin said too.” Qui-Gon revealed and off the curious look Yoda was giving him, he sighed, “I promised him immunity from punishment should he be honest about anything he knew.”

“Hm,” Yoda tapped his fingers on his desk, “Blame him for curiosity, I do not. Many close calls last year, he had.”

“That seems to be a bit of an understatement, Headmaster.” Qui-Gon said and stroked his beard.

“Twice as vulnerable, the boy is.” Yoda said, “After him, Maul is.”

He did know this. The entire school did after the display Maul’s “delivery” made. Aurors through the Ministry were able to detect that not only did the blade belong to Maul, but that the markings on the dagger were strangely reminiscent of an ancient diatribe. Qui-Gon knew they were dancing around calling it like it was: a Sith artifact.

“For what reason?” Qui-Gon scowled, “Maul cares not for prophecy or rules. Anakin is a twelve year old boy and hardly a challenge for him.”

“Tasked with finding that out, I am leaving you.” Yoda pushed his chair out from beneath his desk and stood. When he did, only the very top of his head was visible from where Qui-Gon stood. Using his cane, he hobbled around to stand in front of Qui-Gon.

Qui-Gon raised his eyebrows, “And why not Windu?”

He didn’t mean to sound like he didn’t accept the task. Quite the opposite, of course. He would have likely found himself involved anyway as it was in his nature. That being said, he certainly didn’t have the professional investigative experience that Mace had.

“Trust you, the boy does.” Yoda said matter-of-factly, “Because Shmi trusted you, the reason he goes here is.”

Qui-Gon was sure that was meant to be empowering motivation, but instead, his mind was taken back to the dark dreams Shmi told him of last winter holiday and how scarily they matched the ones Anakin had mentioned, not to mention the recurrence of snakes. He thought about how desperately Shmi did not want her son to be involved with the wizarding world and why now that seemed to not be so ridiculous on paper.

Still, he knew Anakin’s and the rest of the community’s best hope was to continue his training.

“That is true,” Qui-Gon said with a heavy sigh, “But Headmaster, we need to be able to ensure the boy’s safety for that trust to persist.”

“Agree, I do.” Yoda said, “Maul cannot get in, as long as here, I am.”

It was true. While small in stature and old in age, Headmaster Yoda was the most formidable foe to a loose cannon like Maul, who surely did not have enough hubris to believe he would be capable of taking down the ancient Headmaster. He was once a student at Hogwarts, after all, and had to know of the Headmaster’s abilities.

However, there was a far off look in Yoda’s eyes that did not bestow much confidence in Qui-Gon. There was something he wasn’t saying. Or perhaps, it was meant to be assumed.

“And you’re not going anywhere, are you?” He asked slowly.

His long ears tilted downwards and he sighed heavily, “On my own accord, I will not.”

Then, it dawned on Qui-Gon, “The Ministry?”

“A strong case of my failures, many lawyers are making.” He said, “Feel that prepared, I am not, to defend the school.”

“That’s preposterous, Headmaster!” Qui-Gon growled, “If anything, we’re sitting ducks without you!”

Yoda’s disposition steeled, “No! Strength, there are in numbers. Make this school, I do not. Protect it, you and the others will if you must.”

While there was nothing presently happening and no final words were said, Qui-Gon felt like his heart was racing beneath his chest. Did no one see what was transpiring all around them?

“There must be one of Dooku’s plants in the Ministry.” He said, “The Sith are rising and gathering numbers to try and weaken us.”

Yoda fiddled with the hilt of the sword that always stuck out of the large vase near his desk, twiddling it between his little fingers. It was designed as though meant to be wielded by Yoda, himself, though Qui-Gon never really came to such a realization until now.

“Many forms, evil takes,” He confirmed, “Are Sith, not all of them are. In the deliberately blind, bigoted, and silent, it lies. Fester, it will. Be vigilant, we must.”

***

“And remember class, your project on the fundamental purposes of gillyweed is due next Monday.” Palpatine smiled at the class, “I look forward to seeing what sort of creative functionalities you all come up with.”

Anakin hadn’t noticed that class dismissed and it seemed Rex wasn’t bothered much to let him know, leaving him staring into empty space as students filtered out of the room. He only blinked back into reality when his professor walked up and gently knocked on the desk in front of him, as though it were a door he was requesting admission through.

He flicked his head up, mind scrambling for an excuse to land on for being so lost in space, but found he had trouble lying to the older man.

“Oh, sorry, Professor!” He slid from his chair and stood up, “I didn’t get a lot of sleep last night.”

“How are you doing, Anakin?” Palpatine placed a hand on his shoulder and appeared to be studying him. “Really doing; not just what you might tell your other professors.”

“Well, I’m sure you heard of the little note Maul sent me.” He said with a shrug, “They confirmed that the blood on it was that Adi Gallia that he murdered at the prison.”

It was impressive that he’d managed to say that without gagging as he had the many times his thoughts reverted back to the moment. He had to blink a few times to shake away the images his brain had conjured up in his sleep. He’d heard the reports on how Maul picked off each of the guards on duty that night and it hadn’t been pleasant.

“He’s a sick individual, Anakin. And it’s just awful how he treated those poor guards.” Palpatine said, “But rest assured, no harm can befall you so long as Headmaster Yoda is on the premises.”

Anakin perked up, “Really?”

“But of course!” He said and twisted his own lips into a smile, “I’m not sure where this school would be without him, but I can assure you, he is a force that Maul would not dare to cross.”

Anakin relaxed at that, “I suppose I should be learning from him then. You know, if I’m to be a hero one day.”

“In my opinion, Anakin,” Palpatine poked his chest, “You are already a hero. And it is for that reason amongst countless others that I am formally inviting you to my annual academic banquet.”

“That’s awesome!” Anakin scratched the back of his neck, “Only, uh… What is it?”

He chuckled, “Only an exclusive dinner party hosted by yours truly. It’s reserved for only the witches and wizards, usually older, that I deem exemplary amongst their peers. It’s a way to recognize their hard work.”

“And you think I’m worthy of that?” Anakin asked.

Palpatine chuckled, “I would be a fool not to invite such a brilliant and promising young lad such as yourself. You may be significantly younger than the rest of the attendees, but I assure you that your skills match their own.”

Pride swelled through Anakin so suddenly that he found it quite difficult not to appear shocked. Still, he figured no one else but Palpatine was around, so it was likely acceptable this time. Besides, his mother always taught him not to expect gifts or invitations from anyone, even if it seemed deserved.

“Wow, this is an honor, sir.” He said, “Thank you.”

“No need for thanking me.” He insisted, “It is my pleasure to host! Now, it is usually a more formal event, so be sure you and your guest are dressed appropriately. You ought to look the part of the chosen one.”

“My guest?” He asked.

“Ah yes, invite whoever you like, but remember, they are to represent you!” He wagged a finger at him, “Not everyone is cut from the same cloth, shame as that might be. So choose carefully!”

Despite having never heard of such an event, he knew this would be a meaningful night and wanted so terribly for Palpatine to be right. Clearly, the seasoned professor saw something in Anakin if he already belonged amongst the most elite brilliant wizards at a banquet in their honor. He did not want to mess this up.

***

“Looking good up there,” Miraj Scintel, a Slytherin fourth year who was almost alarmingly feline in nature and physicality, purred from a position on the bleachers. Anakin hadn’t even noticed her thanks to the howling wind and the freezing rain that decided to bestow itself upon them for practice.

“Oh, hey!” He hoped he was smiling, but his face was feeling pretty numb from the cold. He forgot his scarf again and was going to be annoyed if he caught a cold. His mum certainly wouldn’t let him hear the end of that, or worse: Obi-Wan wouldn’t let him hear the end of that.

“I always knew you were gifted, Skywalker,” She smiled, bearing sharp teeth that looked ready to sink into her prey. Anakin knew that wasn’t him, due to his own powers that couldn’t be stopped, so he didn’t fear her. He just hovered nearby on his broom. He preferred being off the ground anyway.

“Thanks! Cody says we stand a good chance of a comeback.”

“As a Slytherin, I’m pretty sure commenting on that would be treasonous.” She said smoothly.

He wondered if the smooth beige fur that lined her skin protected her from the cold in the winter or worse, if it made summers brutal. He knew it was rude to ask, but he’d have to ask Obi-Wan later. He certainly wasn’t going to waste time looking it up in a big book.

“You guys were lucky we weren’t in the right headspace.” Anakin challenged.

“I’m sure,” She laughed, “I don’t play so… I don’t have much stakes in the game aside from knowing true power and talent when I see it.”

“Really?”

“Indeed,” She nodded slowly, keeping her eyes fixated on his, “And my father has an in with the Bulgarian professional team.”

Anakin didn’t even know where Bulgar was located, but it sounded impressive. Not wanting to sound dumb, he nodded and made sure to give her the kind of awe that she obviously sought out with such a reveal.

“Maybe I could tell him about you.” She shrugged, “If you keep doing such amazing things.”

“I don’t know if you’ll need to,” He smirked, “I am the chosen one.”

“That you are,” She raised an eyebrow at him, “In more ways than one. I suppose the true question, is who are you going to choose?”

“For what?” Anakin frowned.

“To take to the moon with you, Anakin.” She said as though it were obvious, “That broom looks like it's built for two at maximum capacity.”

He looked behind him and thought about that. He knew it was a metaphor, but he really only ever pictured Padmé riding on the back of his broom. He’d never admit that out loud, because it sounded incredibly corny and also impossible for his present image.

“Oh, I’m not planning on falling in love or anything like that, sorry.” He said honestly. He didn’t want Miraj to get the wrong idea.

“Who said anything about love?” She scoffed. “Love is for the weak. No, what you need is a co-conspirator.”

***

Cody massaged his temples as he tried to will himself the strength to focus on the textbook in front of him. For what had to be the millionth time, he pondered why there weren’t any memory spells that could assist in studying. Even magic had its limitations, sure, but there were spells to erase one’s memory. Why not the opposite?

With a dejected sigh, he slammed his head down to the pages.

“I know I say do whatever works, but I’m not sure that’s an effective study method.” Satine commented as she sat down next to him. He didn’t have to look up to know that Kenobi slid in the seat across from her and likely had a smirk that matched her own.

“You could shove this book straight between my ears and I still wouldn’t get it.” Cody groaned.

One of them patted him on the shoulder- presumably Kenobi by the firmness of it, while the other poked him.

“Once again, I think you’re just being too hard on yourself,” Kenobi said, “Over-thinking has never served you well.”

“Yeah you’ve always thrived on instinct.” Satine said with a nudge, “It’s like remembering Quidditch plays.”

“This is nothing like Quidditch.” Cody tilted his head up enough to lean on his hands, “If it were, I’d be attending Palpatine’s precious pet banquet with the lot of you.”

“Not to worry, Cody, I’m also not attending.” Satine said as she flipped open her own book rather indignantly.

“And just what are you protesting this time?” Kenobi asked.

Had Cody not been too busy commiserating, he would have likely asked the same question, but he was glad he didn’t, because it was immediately apparent that it was the wrong question.

“First of all, I’m not sure I appreciate the underlying exasperation in your tone.” She said, “Just because I choose to stand against social injustice does not make me some annoying zealot. Secondly, I am not protesting anything, because I wasn’t invited.”

Cody’s head shot up completely this time in a mixture of shock and affront. Kenobi seemed just as surprised too, because he didn’t even offer a counter-argument to Satine’s earlier point. They shared a look of disbelief before turning to her for an explanation that never came.

After a moment of likely feeling their gazes burning through her skull, she finally looked up, perturbed that she was interrupted from whatever nonsense she’d gotten herself into reading.

“What?”

“That’s impossible!” Cody complained, “Surely, there’s some sort of mistake.”

“Seriously, you’re top of our class.” Kenobi said, before finishing, “Besides me.”

She rolled her eyes, “Believe it or not, Ben, Palpatine doesn’t exactly choose based on academic placement, alone. He’s chosen quite a few bimbos in the past, actually. Sure, academia helps, but you need status in order to catch his gaze. And conveniently enough, he never invites muggle borns.”

“Are you sure about that?” Cody asked, “He’s never struck me as the sort to think so… What’s the term?”

“Single-mindedly? Aristocratically? Bigoted? Subservient to an archaic belief of blood superiority? I could go on if you need more.” Satine listed them off with such ease that Cody realized she must have thought about them more often than either he or Kenobi could fathom. Such a realization both saddened and surprised him, and even more so when he realized he shouldn’t be all that surprised in the first place.

“That’s not right.” Kenobi pinched his chin thoughtfully, “Perhaps, he was limited in spaces.”

“Well, he had no problem inviting your mentee.” She said pointedly, “Who is twelve years old, need I remind you.”

“Anakin made the cut?” His eyes widened. “Usually, only sixth and seventh years are invited.”

“Did you even pay attention to the list? Or did you stop when you saw your name at the top?” She asked. “Of course he did. He’s the chosen one! While a half-blood raised in the muggle world, his prophetic background immediately moves him to the A-list.”

“Palpatine’s pals.” Cody whistled, “An elite breed for a young kid.”

Kenobi seemed to consider that for a long moment and by the end of his line of thoughts, it was unclear what his opinion on that matter ended up being. Like many times, he transitioned topics and kept his face neutral. If he wasn’t already set on being an auror, Cody would have suggested he become an actor.

“Well, it makes no difference in the end, I suppose.” He said, “I assumed you would be going with me anyway.”

“What do you mean?” Satine asked.

Cody couldn’t believe it. He looked back and forth between the two of them in amusement. Was this how it was going to happen? It was a lot less theatrical than he’d expected, seeing as the two of them seemed to always be quarreling when they weren’t “secretly” fawning over the other. He expected it to go a lot of ways, but never with Kenobi so casually putting it out on the table.

“We get plus one’s.” He shrugged, “Perhaps, that’s why Palpatine excluded you from the list. He figured I would automatically bring you because of our relationship.”

Satine raised an eyebrow, “Our relationship?”

“We’re friends.” He said slowly, as though he might have been reminding himself of that fact too.

Not the correct thing to say.

Satine clenched her jaw, “Yes, well, how was I to even know this little arrangement would be happening if you were never intending on mentioning it?”

“I’m mentioning it now.” Kenobi said. “It’s not like it’s a date or anything.”

Cody wondered how someone so smart could say the wrong thing so often.

“Yes, that would be ridiculous, wouldn’t it?” Satine said.

Kenobi seemed utterly dumbfounded, “Did you want it to be a-”

“-Why would I want that?” She cut him off immediately and Cody found himself bobbing his head back and forth between them. Sometimes, it felt like he was watching an exciting ping pong match.

“I don’t know.” Kenobi said, though he had the decency to look a bit offended by her immediate dismissal, “It’s hardly anything more than a networking event. You would likely hate the whole experience, anyway.”

“You are really selling this evening to me.” She frowned.

“You don’t have to come if you do not wish,” Kenobi said, though Cody could see his best friend stiffen, “It was just an offer.”

“And what an offer it is!” She flared, placing both hands on the table as though prepared to launch herself to her feet for a dramatic exit, “An offhand comment suggesting I essentially be your tag-a-along to an event that I was deliberately overlooked for. Sign me up! I should be so lucky to be your casual pick. You truly know how to make a girl feel special.”

“Satine-” He didn’t get very far, of course. When she was on a roll, she was on a roll.

“What were you going to do the night of the party if I had already found a date?” She steamrolled, now half-standing as she leaned forward towards him, “Or was that never an actual possibility in that head of yours? Answer wisely.”

Kenobi stammered, though Cody noticed he was obviously bothered by the implication, “Did you have someone you’d rather go with than your best friend?”

“Perhaps, I did!” She thundered.

Kenobi reverberated for a moment as though he suffered terrible whiplash before finally saying, “Well, it’s not a date anyway so-”

“Yes, you’ve made that abundantly clear, which works out quite nicely for me,” She said as she fully stood, “Seeing as it’s not a date and I’m a friend, which apparently means I’m unworthy of any notice, formal invitation, or courtesy. So, as a friend, I’ll feel no guilt in standing you up.”

“Well- fine!” Kenobi said back, “I’ll find someone else to go! Someone less mad!”

“Good luck with that!” She grinned sardonically as she turned to take her leave, “Because anyone who agrees to go with your passive arrogance would have to be bloody insane.”

Kenobi opened his mouth and shut it again, annoyed that she’d managed to get the last word in before she was fully gone- a tactic both have used in the past. Everyone in the library, including Jocasta Nu, was shooting unsure looks towards their table. He didn’t seem to notice from where he stewed, keeping his eyes trained on where she left.

“So, who are you going to ask?” Cody asked.

Kenobi groaned and flopped his head down towards his textbook with a thud.

“You wouldn’t happen to be interested in a free dinner, would you?” His voice was muffled from the book, but Cody always understood the language of food.

Despite how it might not resonate well with Satine, Cody couldn’t not agree to those terms. Unlike her, he would rather it not be a date.

***

“Rex, guess what?” Anakin came barreling into the Gryffindor common room with a burst of excitement that Rex had grown used to over the year and half of knowing his friend. Still, they hadn’t been hanging out nearly as much as they used to, so he found himself quite surprised to be the recipient of such grand news.

“What?” He asked, closing his History of Magic textbook for the night. He knew if Anakin got enthusiastic enough, that he would not be returning to his homework for tonight.

“I got invited to Palpatine’s Academic Bash!” He pressed his hands into the armrest of the couch, using it for stability as he bounced up and down.

“His… What?” Rex frowned. He distinctly recalled that unofficial school holiday events were banned per Headmaster Yoda’s call for safety. It was not lost on Rex that such safety measures were likely designed with Anakin in mind, specifically.

“It’s this end of the term banquet that he has with his most esteemed students where we all get dressed up and eat a bunch of fancy foods. It’s basically a big networking event where Palpatine helps set the older students up with connections to make them successful beyond Hogwarts.”

“And why are you invited, then?” Rex asked, much to Anakin’s incredulousness.

“Hello?” He gestured to himself, “Chosen One? Have you forgotten?”

“How could I? You scarcely let me do so.” He deadpanned, “I still don’t get why you would even want to go to that sort of thing. Sounds much more up Obi-Wan’s alley.”

“Well, he’s invited too, of course.” Anakin waved a hand, “It’s usually exclusive to sixth years and seventh years.”

All of the students that were amongst Palpatine’s “pals” as they were often referred to by outsiders, were all exceptionally gifted and intelligent witches and wizards. He didn’t see how Rex could be so confused by Anakin’s being lumped in with them. Sure, he was younger, but in terms of power and potential, he was right there.

“Still sounds stuffy.” Rex shrugged.

“Well,” Anakin couldn’t help but deflate a bit, annoyed that Rex wasn’t immediately leaping to his level of excitement, “Since it’s an academic event, the school is allowing it, so it’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

“I suppose.” Rex said.

“I thought about asking Padmé to go with me, but I don’t want her to get the wrong impression,” Anakin said, “Can’t have her falling in love with me. That would make things far too complicated.”

“I’m sure.” Rex snorted, “Well, if you need someone to endure the bureaucratic dribble with I guess-”

“-Miraj Scintel would probably want to go.” Anakin tapped his chin.

“What?”

“Miraj Scintel.” Anakin said simply, “You know, my friend from Slytherin house. 4th year Miraj? Super pretty, but not my type? You know, the popular girl who I’ve been sitting with at Dueling Club-”

“-I know who she is.” Rex spat, “Why are you taking her?”

Anakin sat on the armrest, “I dunno, we’re friends. I think she’d like it.”

“And what about me?” He asked.

Anakin frowned, “You just said you didn’t want to go.”

“You didn’t invite me! I thought you were just bragging.”

“When do I do that?”

“All of the time!” Rex said, “Were you even going to ask me anyway?”

Anakin paused and Rex launched up from where he’d been sitting on the couch.

“You weren’t, were you?” He accused.

“I never said that!” Anakin said, “I would just rather bring someone who wants to go is all. Plus, Miraj fits in a bit better with that crowd of people.”

“And I don’t?”

“Not really.” Anakin shrugged, “You always choose to hang back or walk away whenever I’m with my new friends.”

“Is that how you see it?” He laughed sardonically, “Boy are you full of it, you know that?”

“What are you on about?” Anakin crossed his arms.

“What am I on about? I haven’t been walking away from you! You haven’t invited me once to hang with you and your new friends. You keep flaunting this Chosen One title around like it’s such a great thing when in reality, it sounds like it’s only going to get really scary from here on out. I mean, my family has gone to Hogwarts for years and the professors have never seen it fit to have a club where students basically learn to fight.”

Anakin frowned, “I’m not flaunting anything around. I am the Chosen One. That’s what I am. And Chosen Ones are heroes, who don’t cower down from the future or when things get bad. Neither do Gryffindors in general, actually.”

“I’m not cowering down. I’m just trying to be realistic!” Rex barked back.

“I don’t expect you to understand what it’s like having all eyes depending on you to be brave, but that is the reality.” Anakin shrugged, “And a real friend would support me on that.”

“Are you kidding me?” Rex all but shouted, throwing his books aside, “Ever since this whole thing started, you’ve been ditching me like I’m Flobberworm fodder to you.”

“No, you have taken every opportunity to either avoid me or lash out any time anyone else treats me nice!”

“That’s because they’re only being nice to you because you’re the Chosen One!”

“That’s not true!” Anakin said and pointed a firm finger at his seething friend, “You’re just jealous that everyone likes me now.”

“But I liked you before any of that!” Rex shouted, “It didn’t matter to me if you were famous or if you were powerful. When no one else in this blasted school believed you, not even Obi-Wan, I did. I stood by your side and stuck up for you. You were the last person I’d ever think would fall for this stupid fame rap, but I guess I was wrong.”

Anakin’s mouth felt dry, but it didn’t stop his stupid words from taking form anyway- coming from a place of hurt so bleak that he didn’t realize it still existed there from his loneliness of last year,

“Well, you don’t have to worry about me being your charity case anymore. I’d rather have friends that are happier for me instead of sulking all the time anyway.” He said.

“Sure, have fun with Miraj at Palpatine’s stupid party! I’m sure she’ll just love puckering up to your arse every time you so much as breathe. See if she still likes you next time you fall flat on your face and don’t ask me to come pick you back up.”

“And good luck on the bench this year!” It felt mean even as he said it, but Anakin decided he wasn’t wanted here anymore as he stormed back down the steps towards the exit, trying not to look anyone else in the face as tears began to spring from his eyes. He ran into Cody on his way down, who tried to grab him by the wrist, but Anakin slipped from his potential grasp and descended the stairs anyway.

On his way out, he heard Cody ask, “What the bloody hell just happened?”

It seemed Anakin was out a friend. It was no matter, he told himself. He had plenty of other friends now.

He would just have to keep telling himself that.

***

Obi-Wan was surprised to find Anakin sitting by himself in the courtyard. It was far from a safe position for him to be in, given the price that was likely out on his head by Maul, but the boy was so sullen that he couldn’t find it in him to admonish him. He wasn’t crying, but didn’t look far from it.

“I don’t care if you give me detention, Obi-Wan.” Anakin said and pressed his forehead into his knees as he brought them closer to him, likely in an effort to keep himself warm. “Just leave me alone.”

Obi-Wan sighed through his nose and carefully pulled his robe off of him before draping it around Anakin, followed by giving him his scarf. There wasn’t going to be much of a Chosen One left if he froze to death in the December chill. He dusted the stone bench free of drifting snow and ice before taking a seat beside him.

“What happened?” He finally asked, breaking the silence that bounded them. The whirl of the wind whistled through and around the many towers and seemed to battle with itself in the heart of the courtyard.

Anakin had been having a great year from the looks of it, contrary to his previous year. He made new friends, grew a lot of confidence (perhaps, a bit too much), and was behaving better in class. Another psychopathic dark wizard was after him, yes, but he seemed to take it in stride in comparison to how he reacted to his fear of Windu before. This behavior seemed very out of the blue to Obi-Wan.

He sighed heavily, causing a wreath of frosty air to circulate around him, “Rex doesn’t want to be my friend anymore.”

Now, that didn’t sound right at all. Rex had stuck with Anakin through the thickest of thick and didn’t seem keen on going anywhere. He’d been a loyal and true friend, one that Anakin was lucky to have. It simply did not add up.

Then, Obi-Wan counted back to the previous months, thinking about how Anakin hadn’t been seen with Rex nearly as much, how his mentee had grown popular with other and older students, or how Anakin seemed quite boastful as of late.

“Did he say why?”

“He’s upset I’m taking Miraj Scintel to Palpatine’s banquet.” He huffed, “Which is ridiculous, because he hates potions and was dogging the event in general until I told him I was inviting someone else.”

“Ah, I see.” Obi-Wan slumped against the wall a bit, but it was colder than anything he’d ever touched and he straightened his posture again, “I must admit, I’m not sure I’m the best candidate to be giving advice on this specific matter. I’m somewhat in a similar pickle.”

“You’re also bringing Miraj Scintel to Palpatine’s banquet?” Anakin wrinkled his nose, “She never struck me as your type.”

“She’s not!” Obi-Wan insisted, “I’m not taking her, but one of my friends is upset that I didn’t elect to ask them more formally.”

“Why didn’t you?” Anakin asked, loosening his grip on his legs and letting his feet touch the stone again.

Obi-Wan breathed out his own cloud of air, admiring for a moment how picturesque it looked in the reflective light from the torches that hung above them. He was grateful for them, of course, because they provided at least a little warmth to fight off the freezing December. He couldn’t explain it, but he always liked the smell of the cold- the freshness of it. He just never quite enjoyed feeling it.

He rubbed his hands along his arms in an effort to warm up, “I thought… It went without saying that we were to go together.”

Anakin frowned, “That’s awful dumb of you. How is someone supposed to know they’re invited if you never say anything?”

Obi-Wan snorted, always amused at the sheer lack of thought that went into Anakin’s words sometimes, “Yes, I know that now, thank you. It is for that reason that I am now bringing Cody to the banquet.”

“Cody?” Anakin squawked, “He’s not going to fit in at all!”

“That doesn’t matter,” Obi-Wan said, “It’s about who you want to bring, not about who you feel would make the best trophy to show off.”

Obi-Wan was quite glad that Satine wasn’t there to call him out on the sheer hypocrisy of that statement. Being a Kenobi and hosting many parties, meant that most of his life had been surrounded by various upscale wizards flashing their trophy husbands or wives or children.

“But why would I want to bring someone who’s been nothing but negative this entire term? It’s like he’s not even happy for me for being popular.”

“Popularity isn’t everything, Anakin.” Obi-Wan said, rubbing his hands together now, “It’s better to have fewer great friends than more fairweather friends.”

“What’s a fairweather friend?” Anakin asked.

“The kind who only wants to be around you when you’re on top.” He explained, “So maybe, it’s not that you’ve invited Miraj, but that you neglected to think of Rex. It could quite possibly just be a buildup of feelings.”

“Well, how am I supposed to know the difference between a fairweather friend and a real friend?” He asked, bright blue eyes looking troubled and concerned at the difference.

“You’ll know when things get tough again.” Obi-Wan said and draped an arm around Anakin’s shoulders, partially because he was starting to lose feeling in his limbs from being outside for as long as they were.

“You’re a real friend.” Anakin said quietly.

“I’d like to think so.” Obi-Wan really did, too. He knew Satine was rightfully quite upset with him at the moment, but he liked to think that he was there for his friends when they needed him. He wasn’t perfect, but he did intend to show Anakin the proper values for him to proceed. “And it is my humble opinion that you should try to make up with Rex.”

“But how? He basically told me to bugger off and not to come back.” Anakin said, “And I don’t really want to, right now.”

“Sometimes, you have to be the better person and put yourself out there.” Obi-Wan advised.

“Just like you did with Satine?” Anakin arched an eyebrow at him.

“I- I never said I was quarreling with Satine.”

“When aren’t you is the better question.” He said, “It’s just a date. What’s the big deal?”

“First of all, it’s not a date. It’s a social gathering amongst intellectual acquaintances that she and I would merely be attending together in formal attire. Second of all, it’s past curfew and you’re lucky I haven’t taken to removing points from Gryffindor by now.”

“Sure, sure.” Anakin rolled his eyes, “Still not sure what I’m going to do about Rex. I already asked Miraj.”

“Just be honest with him. Give him some time to cool off.” Obi-Wan said and stood up, “Speaking of cooling off, I think we’ve done enough of that, wouldn’t you say?”

***

Anakin knew Obi-Wan had to be right in his advice to make up with Rex, but the trouble was finding the timing for such a thing. However, he reasoned this would be much easier to do once this silly banquet that started the quarrel in the first place was over. It didn’t make the way Rex refused to meet his eyes any easier.

In fact, Anakin began to understand some of what Rex had been talking about, as though he’d just noticed his friend’s absence. Even with Jax, Tru, and Ferus chatting with him eagerly about the banquet at breakfast, he couldn’t help but revert his eyes down the table to where Rex ate quietly with his brothers. All but Cody were present, who was actually sitting with Obi-Wan and Satine. Anakin wondered if his mentor was taking his own advice on that front.

He was relieved when Qui-Gon got up from his seat at the front of the Great Hall and walked over to him, making everyone else look rather small in comparison.

“I’m sorry to interrupt, Anakin, but may I have a word?” He asked kindly, nodding cordially to the other boys.

“Oh, sure!” Anakin slid out from his seat, “I’ll see you later, guys!”

As he followed the large Head of House out of the Great Hall, he met Obi-Wan’s nondescript stare from across the room, but didn’t think much of it. Whatever obvious disagreement was happening between Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan was their business. Anakin had enough trouble on his hands as it were.

They didn’t speak until they drifted down to his office, which was decorated aplomb with Christmas joy, even though his party wouldn’t be happening this year. He especially liked the charmed elf decoration that skated in endless crazy eights across the surface of his mantle. It was particularly interesting that Qui-Gon never seemed to stick exclusively to wizard-made decor. Instead, there were plenty of lights and trappings of garland that could be found in any muggle hardware store. It infused Anakin with the sort of merriment that felt akin to magic before he had a full grasp on his abilities.

“Is this about the necklace?” He asked.

“Yes and no.” Qui-Gon said as he leaned against his desk, “I heard you were invited to Sheev’s end of the year dinner party.”

Anakin scratched his head, briefly performing mental gymnastics to remember that Palpatine’s first name was certainly not “Professor” and that Qui-Gon likely didn’t call him by that when they were outside of professional settings. Still, he was also unsure what his invitation had to do with anything.

“Uh, and what of it?” He asked.

“Congratulations,” Though it sounded more of a formality than sincerity, “It’s unheard of that someone so young be invited.”

“Yeah, Professor Palpatine says he’s never met a wizard like me.” Anakin shrugged, trying not to boast lest he prove Rex correct.

“No one is the same as each other.” He said, “Everyone offers their own different strengths and weaknesses that deserve to be celebrated.”

“I think he just likes to do something nice for the gifted kids.” Anakin said.

“I’m sure Professor Palpatine means no malice in his little get-together, but segmenting chosen students with no official system for doing so can be… Misleading. All students at Hogwarts are gifted and regardless of grades, skills, or social standing, no one is overall better than the other.”

Anakin really didn’t see how that could be true, even if he weren’t the chosen one.

“So, you don’t want me to go?” Anakin asked.

“I did not say that.” He poured himself a cup of tea and sighed, “Quite the opposite, actually, I think it’s important you do attend the dinner.”

“No offense, but you’re not making much sense, Qui-Gon.”

He chuckled, “I’m not, am I?”

“No, sir. It doesn’t sound like you agree with Palpatine having a party at all. So, why encourage me to go?” Anakin decided to make himself comfortable and take a seat. Qui-Gon had a tendency to be long-winded, so he might as well prepare for a lecture.

“I have nothing negative to say about his having a party,” Qui-Gon said, “Do I wish he were a bit clearer in his system beyond picking favorites, perhaps? There are bigger issues at play, though, and it’s not my position or place anyway.”

“So, what is it?”

“As you know, Palpatine has a tendency to adopt people, so to speak, and not in a bad way, but with the hopes of passing down his own wisdom from past experiences.” He said, “And he’s included many interesting cases in this little club of his over the years. One of whom, many years ago, was a sixth year Slytherin boy who many considered to be… Troubled. Immensely talented? Yes, but it was how he used that power that was always concerning the professors.”

“How did he use it?” Anakin asked.

“You see, outside of the classroom he didn’t have many friends. He was aggressive and would occasionally perform some rather sinister tricks on those that crossed him. He was gifted at charms and transfiguration above all else and was even caught performing some rather… Disturbing spells on animals and leaving them in students’ beds.”

“Who was he?” Anakin asked.

He lifted a navy and silver leather bound book from his desk and flipped through some of the pages before finding what he’d been looking for. Wordlessly, Qui-Gon turned the book and pointed to a moving school portrait of Maul.

The rock that dropped in his stomach made Anakin question the company of this exclusive club that he was being invited into.

Anakin wrinkled his nose, “That’s terrible! Why would Palpatine want to take him under his wing?”

“I’m not sure,” Qui-Gon frowned, “I suspect he wanted to help him, but…”

“But what?”

He placed his teacup down delicately before folding his hands in front of him, “It would benefit us to learn whatever we can about Maul and his potential motives for seeking you out. As of right now, Palpatine is the only person I know who was close with him.”

“So, you want me to go to the banquet to get information from Palpatine?” Anakin clarified and for some reason, the task didn’t sit right with him. In fact, it felt an awful lot like spying.

“I warn you to act with discretion, of course,” Qui-Gon raised a hand, “Sheev has never mentioned Maul once in the years I’ve known him. The only reason I’m aware of his previous kinship with Maul was because I… Stumbled upon this information as a first year. I’d not thought much of it then, but now… It would certainly be wise to see what he knows.”

“Will it upset him?” Anakin couldn’t help but ask. After all, he was already out one friend right now. He really didn’t need to go cutting off all his ties.

“I think it would upset him more if anything bad were to happen to you as a result of his own silence.” Qui-Gon clarified, “The truth, while not always easy, must come out.”

***

Padmé was having a difficult time figuring out what she wanted to get her friends for Christmas. It was to no surprise that Hondo tried to weasel his way into her decision making process, armed with t-shirts, trinkets, and buttons with Anakin Skywalker’s face plastered all over it. She would have laughed if the exploitation of the younger student wasn’t a little sad. It was even worse that Anakin didn’t seem to have a grasp yet on why this wasn’t ideal.

She was in the process of knitting a scarf for Yané with a new spell she learned in charms, when she noticed him walk by looking quite out of place in an oversized suit. For once, he was alone and without his newfound posse of older students.

“Anakin?” He halted right in his tracks at her call, appearing uncharacteristically lost in thought.

“Oh, hey Padmé!” He chirped, but lacked some of the boyish excitement that usually emanated off of him. She was beginning to wonder if the stress of Maul’s looming presence was getting to him. She knew she would be afraid if there was not one, but two, bad guys on the hunt for her.

“What’s with the suit?” She gestured to his outfit.

“Oh, you know, gotta fit in with the big boys.” He did that thing where he was trying desperately to seem like he belonged. She wondered briefly where that stemmed from.

“Ah, I heard you were going to Palpatine’s dinner party.” She said.

“Yeah, I’m actually on my way to pick up my date.” He leaned against the doorframe, clearly trying to impress her with such information. For what reason, she didn’t understand, but didn’t doubt it had to do with this macho facade he had clearly been building for the other students.

“Date?” She played along.

“Miraj Scintel. Don’t take it personally.” He waved her off, “She really wanted to go.”

Padmé wasn’t shocked by that. She didn’t know Miraj too well, given she was a grade older and a Slytherin, which meant they essentially walked different circles here at Hogwarts. However, she knew enough to know that her crowd of people wasn’t exactly notorious for being warm and fuzzy. Her parents, like Padmé’s, were dignitaries, though not known as a very merciful and kind sort.

In fact, there were some dark rumors about how they ran their government.

“Why would I take it personally?” She snorted.

“Because you know…” He trailed off.

“No…” She said slowly.

“Oh,” Anakin ran a hand through his floppy blond hair and winced, “Well, sometimes girls get jealous when you ask someone else to go to dinners or parties or something. Pretty sure that’s the gist of what’s happening to Obi-Wan and Satine.”

Padmé straightened, “We’re not like them of course.”

Anakin floundered a bit at that, “No no, of course not! They’re… Weird and we’re…”

“Friends.” She finished with a smile.

“We are?” He asked, which made her laugh.

“Yeah, why wouldn’t we be?” She asked.

“I dunno, really,” He smiled shyly, “Age differences and all that.”

“Aren’t you taking an older woman as your date tonight?” She asked wryly.

“Obi-Wan says this isn’t a date.” He said, “I think he’s just saying that because he didn’t want Cody getting any ideas.”

“Why’s he taking Cody?” Padmé gaped.

“He mentioned something about being a fool, but he really does not like to talk about his feelings.” Anakin sighed, “Guess he’s got some growing up to do on that front.”

That got Padmé legitimately laughing. Maybe it was because the kid who lost Gryffindor 5 points for getting caught calling Windu a “doo-doo head” behind his back was doling out advice on maturity.

He glanced at the automatically moving knitting needles that worked next to her, “What are you making?”

“A scarf, probably,” She turned to resume with her hands, “I know it’s not as exciting as an elegant dinner party with the fellow elites, but if I want to get it ready by Christmas I’ve got to get a move on.”

“I’m sure you’ve had plenty of fancy dinners.” Anakin stuck his hands in his pockets.

“Yeah, they’re not all they’re cracked up to be.” She smirked, “So, if you get sick of the party life or the tiny little finger sandwiches, please feel free to lend a helping hand. I could use someone to untangle the yarn.”

“Surely, there are spells for that too.” He said.

“Maybe, but some things are better when you put a little earnest hard work into it.”

“You kinda sound like my mom.” Anakin smiled softly and after a moment of gazing somewhere in the distance he sighed, “Yeah, well, I better be off.”

“Have fun on your hot date.” She teased.

“I will.” He said, though he no longer seemed so sure of it.

***

“No flowers?” Cody teased as Obi-Wan met his friend outside of Gryffindor’s common room as previously agreed upon. Obi-Wan truly should have expected Cody to miss the memo about dressing formally (even though he, himself, reminded him), but he was still aghast when his friend emerged wearing his Quidditch sweater and dark jeans.

“What happened to black tie?” He answered instead.

“Oh, I don’t have one.” Cody shrugged.

“But you do have a collared shirt and dress pants seeing as you wear them every school day.” Obi-Wan countered and referred to his own attire of a black and white tuxedo set of dress robes. “Is that a stain on the collar of your sweater?”

“Could be.” Cody tugged on the hem of it and ducked his chin to inspect before allowing it to snap back into place, “Seems like ketchup, though. Luckily, it practically blends in with the red.”

“It doesn’t.” He said.

“Look, if you wanted someone who would have looked a little more to your fancy, you would have just sucked it up and apologized to Satine.” He said and smacked him on the back, “But since the both of you are more stubborn than two bulls in a stare down, this is what you get. Frankly, you’re quite lucky I showered beforehand. I did have practice today.”

Obi-Wan rolled his eyes, “Let the record show that I have tried to apologize to Satine. She just never makes it quite easy.”

“She’ll come around,” Cody said, “Plus, I doubt she’s solely mad at you.”

“You’d be surprised how easy she finds it to be mad at me.”

“And likewise.” Cody said.

“The only difference is, I struggle with staying mad at her.” It was a bit too honest, it seemed, because Cody was regarding him with a smug look on his face that he didn’t quite appreciate. He’d rather be in on the joke, after all.

As they drew nearer to Palpatine’s office, they passed Ventress, who was dressed for the event in a black low-cut gown with a slit down the side. Her short-cropped hair was slicked back and her makeup was even harsher than usual, making her bone-white cheeks appear so sharp that they were almost hollow. She seemed to be waiting for someone, presumably whatever sad sack was to be her plus one, and was sure to glare at them as they passed.

“I see you’re slumming it, Kenobi.” She taunted, “Couldn’t get a date?”

“At least I didn’t likely have to bribe my guest, Ventress.” He responded swiftly and kept them moving.

“Or threaten.” Cody added offhandedly and when they got out of earshot said, “I won’t mention that I’m mostly here for the food.”

“Yes, thank you.” He muttered. “Let’s just get this thing over with.”

“Satine’s right, you really do know how to send the tones of a date.” Cody chuckled.

“This isn’t a- oh, nevermind.” He sighed, realizing that he wasn’t much in the mood to defend his case on that just now, “Who do you reckon she wanted to go with?”

“What do you mean?” He asked as they took their seats around the round clothed table. They were some of the first to arrive to the group that was unsurprisingly mostly composed of Slytherins. Palpatine was their Head of House, of course, so it made sense he spent the most time with them.

“Satine.” Obi-Wan unraveled the cloth napkin and smoothed it on his leg, “She was offended that I never considered if she’d want to go with someone else.”

“I don’t know if that’s the bit she was harping on.” Cody said carefully.

“Yes, I know, and she isn’t wrong about the company being a bit… Obvious.” Obi-Wan did see a downcast Anakin trailing behind who he presumed to be Miraj Scintel, whose Zygerrian feline features made her look much older and more sophisticated than 14 or 15. Her dress was long-sleeved and dark turquoise in fabric, but contained several plates of ornate gold to match the headband clasped at the front of her forehead.

“Anakin, dear, do fetch me some sparkling cider.” She said in a haughty voice that was meant to be heard. Her yellow eyes narrowed at him when he didn’t immediately leap at her request. “I have many words to exchange with the grownups.”

Anakin, who never leapt at anyone’s demands, shot her a sideways look and seemed ready to fire back his own opinions on that idea, but ended up just huffing and moving over to the concessions table.

“No,” Cody frowned as he noticed what was happening too, “She isn’t.”

***

Satine had far better uses of her time than sitting around a table, trading dull conversation with even duller people that were somehow measured as more impressive than she. Despite what she said to Cody and Obi-Wan, not being invited hadn’t really offended her all that much. That wasn’t to say she approved of Palpatine’s obvious biases. She wasn’t sure if the man even truly noticed he had them. He was never unkind to her or other muggle-borns explicitly, but there was certainly a bit of tokenism that came with their interactions. Truly, even if Obi-Wan had asked her in a more ideal manner, she wasn’t even sure if she’d go.

She sighed, because that was a lie and she knew it.

It certainly would have given her the opportunity to show just how flagrant Palpatine’s oversight had been. Beyond that, she wouldn’t have felt so utterly annoyed at her friend’s own obtusity.

How dare he just assume they’d go together without even asking? Even if they were to attend as friends, which she prided herself on questioning him about (if she weren’t so riled up, she was unsure she would have otherwise had the courage), it was only common decency to ask a person to go.

Really, she knew, it was the fact that he seemed dead-set on letting her know that it wasn’t a date that infuriated her beyond measure. Maybe that was a tad immature, since he certainly didn’t owe her dates or anything of the sort, but she couldn’t help but feel he was constantly sending her mixed signals these days. She should know, seeing as she couldn’t seem to stop hyper-analyzing every interaction they had together.

As she passed a bunch of fourth year girls that were gawking over Kit Fisto’s old Quidditch portrait, she rolled her eyes. She needed to ensure that she never got that boy crazy.

She decided on a trip to the library to return the books she’d borrowed on cursed objects. It was the simplest way to try and get Obi-Wan’s stupid incredulity off her mind. Besides, she never returned a book late before and she certainly wasn’t going to start now.

Professor Plo Koon had once again outdone himself with the decorations around the castle to commemorate the holiday season. It wasn’t the same without the promise of Qui-Gon’s party this year, but she could still take the time to appreciate the glittering icicles that hung along the ceiling. Only these, she noted, would have no risk of truly causing harm. She did have to reserve a chuckle at a startled first year, who leapt out of the way when an icicle “fell”, but they relaxed when it puffed into mist just above his head.

“Good evening, Ms. Nu.” Satine smiled at the older librarian, who never once looked like she was having an unpleasant day.

“How are you tonight, Miss Kryze?” She returned her mirth. Jocasta Nu always dressed for the holiday season and tonight was sporting a pair of earrings that looked like little red jingle bells adorned with holly.

“I’m well, thank you.” She nodded and handed over her stack of books to the bin, “Hoping to get a little light reading in.”

“Nothing new there!” She chuckled, “Though I was surprised to see you have a different studying partner for a change.”

Satine furrowed her brow, “Pardon? I haven’t got a new-”

She peered down the aisle to where she usually sat and noticed a set of legs from the seat opposite. She gave Jocasta Nu a sidelong glance before excusing herself to go investigate. It was silly, really, since it wasn’t like her name was inscribed in the wood finish. However, she spent more time in the library than most and everyone seemed to automatically know where she would be sitting.

Who she found was none other than Fenn Rau, who looked up immediately from his borrowed copy of Quidditch Through the Ages and offered her a small smile. He set down the book and placed a navy striped bookmark to save his spot.

“Forgive me if I’m intruding.” He said.

“It is a free library.” She joked, “You are free to sit wherever you choose.”

“This really is the best spot in the library.” He admired and looked around them. “No draft, away from the rubble, close to the most interesting books, and not too far from the entrance for comfort. You’ve chosen well!”

She followed his gaze around them and smiled, “I didn’t actually choose at all. Though I’m sure Ben took a lot of what you said into consideration. He’s a great deal more introspective than I am for such things.”

When his mouth twitched ever-so-slightly, Satine couldn’t help but think back to her conversation with Aayla and Stass. Still, when he made the friendly gesture for her to join him, she didn’t have much of a reason not to. She meant what she said to Jocasta Nu about getting some reading done and Fenn didn’t seem like the type to be noisy.

“Did you know Cody has the record for renting this book out the most?” Fenn laughed and showed her the inside of the book, where the library card had Cody’s signature embedded on several lines.

“When it comes to Quidditch, Cody doesn’t do anything in small doses.” Satine smiled, “I am surprised you chose to go out for the team. I don’t recall you ever having much interest in it before.”

“Things change.” He smiled, “People change.”

“Well, you’ve certainly proved yourself capable.” She said and moved to pull a book out from her bag.

“You know all about having to prove yourself, of course.” He said.

She raised an eyebrow at him and he quickly amended his statement, “I just meant being muggle-born and all. I get it. I mean, I’m not one. I’m a half blood, but it’s still strange, right? That there are different expectations for each of us based on something stupid like how we’re born. We’re all wizards, right?”

Satine felt a fire stoked within her and she straightened, “Exactly! And the fact that so many people don’t see that is beyond frustrating.”

“Well, some people don't know any better.” He said, “Look at the Kenobi’s. They’re one of the highest ranking families in the wizarding community. Do you think they could possibly understand what it’s like not to be born into wealth and status? I think they just assume they deserve it because they’ve had it for so long.”

She bit her tongue, because while she definitely agreed with some of his points, she wasn’t completely comfortable making them vocal right now.

Despite there not being any real cause for it, since Rau didn’t say anything explicitly, Satine still instinctively found herself saying, “Ben’s not like that, of course, so it’s got to be more than just a thing of nature.”

“Oh, of course! I never meant to insinuate otherwise.” He cleared his throat, “I know the two of you are quite close. I just… You’re just as good as him and yet you aren’t viewed as such. And between you and me, I don’t think I could ever go to some party where my friends aren’t wanted or welcome.”

She swallowed, unsure if he meant for that to sting the way that it did. He couldn’t possibly know he was uncovering one of her buried insecurities on the matter. She once again could not help dashing to his defense, which felt quite stupid given the circumstances.

“Well, originally he wanted to bring me.”

“I think.” She thought to herself. It wasn’t like he’d exactly seemed all that enthusiastic about the prospect of taking her.

“As a date?” Fenn perked up, even if he seemed to try and subdue any immediate reaction.

“No.” She rolled her eyes, “We’re just friends.”

“Ah, I see.” He nodded several times too many, but then shrugged, “He’s lucky to have a friend like you though.”

“Thank you. I know.” She chuckled, because perhaps Aayla and Stass were wrong about Rau’s intentions. It wasn’t like she ever saw him trailing along any friends. Maybe he was just a little awkward and in need of a friend. It was only a bonus that he seemed to have at least some critical understanding of the prejudice that still existed in their world.  

“I do hope he knows it too.” He teased.

“I think he does,” But she felt a biting indignance return to her, “Well, usually, anyway.”

Fenn frowned, “Usually?”

She shook her head. She wasn’t going to have this conversation right now and burden someone else with the stupid annoyance that plagued her. Oftentimes, her feelings confused her too much as it were. No need to dump all of it on someone else.

“I’m not at the party, am I?” She said and hoped she did so with the impression of wanting to leave it at that, “Besides, I don’t require validation from the potions professor to determine my value. I will be just fine on my own.”

“I’m sure of it.” Rau said, “He’s a fool for not choosing you in the first place.”

Whether he was talking about Obi-Wan or Palpatine had yet to be seen, but Satine couldn’t help but agree either way. Try as she might to argue otherwise, she did care that things were the way they were. She did care that she had to try twice as hard to be considered half as much. Even though Obi-Wan was her best friend, she knew there were opportunities he would always receive despite being on essentially the same playing field.

“Yes,” She said ardently, “He was.”

***

Anakin was beginning to understand why Palpatine’s annual dinner party was rarely occupied by younger students. He was having an impossibly difficult time staying awake. Miraj, as beautifully alluring and sophisticated as she was, wasn’t exactly the most loyal type, and sat between Ventress and Tarkin, the latter of whom she was obviously flirting with.

He was actually a bit relieved in a sense. It became despicably clear that the two didn’t have much in common beyond their intrigue in the darkness that hung over the horizon. She couldn’t seem to stop fixating on the dementors or the numerous near-death experiences. Anakin was wondering why he was tired of talking about them all the time now.

Classical Christmas music from a harp that played itself enveloped the room in a sleepy spirit and to Anakin felt a bit like a lullaby. Most of the chatter cycled around what each wizard’s prospects were for the future or what their parents did. It seemed mostly everyone already knew, so Anakin wasn’t quite sure why it bore repeating.

“So, mummy and daddy told the prime minister just where to shove his chilled water.” Scoffed Miraj, “Where I come from, presenting anything less than room temperature is enough for banishment.”

He didn’t quite get where she was from, but he made the mental note not to visit. Obi-Wan and Cody seemed to be making the same notation for themselves, because they both exchanged a surprised glance. Anakin was suddenly very glad that he was sitting with them instead.

“Truly, very few know how to behave around noblemen and women.” Tarkin, whose face always looked stretched stiff across his bones, showed the barest of smiles, “I’d have liked to see how you would have handled such an incident.”

“I’m merciful at the core, of course,” Miraj said, “But it does make one think about the divides in society, doesn’t it?”

Obi-Wan shifted in his seat beside Anakin and when he took a better look at his mentor, he couldn’t help but notice his jaw looked set with tension. His posture was perfectly straight and he’d hardly touched the sweet-soup that was in front of him. Anakin, on the other hand, couldn’t stop doing so as a distraction from this nonsense.

“That’s for your fingers,” Obi-Wan whispered and stretched out a napkin for Anakin.

“What?”

“That’s a finger bowl.” He nodded his head towards the little bowl, “For cleaning.”

Anakin looked down to the glass bowl to scrutinize it. He bent down, smelling the soft scent of lemon that was barely much more than a spritz for ambiance. When he shot back up, he glared at Obi-Wan.

“Why would I do that?” He asked.

“It’s meant to be cleansing before dessert.” He added gently, “Just go with it.”

“This is stupid.” He muttered and proceeded to dip his fingers in the bowl as instructed.

“I think it’s time our resident chosen one spoke of his impressive background.” Ventress practically hissed from across the table. Only difference was that Anakin would trust any snake before her, no matter how poisonous.

“Go on, Anakin.” Professor Palpatine smiled encouragingly, “I, too, am quite curious, actually.”

Had he really never mentioned his mum in detail to Palpatine before? He supposed it was possible. He was often so preoccupied when around the professor.

For some reason, he didn’t feel like he belonged anymore as he looked around the table. Even Miraj, who was supposed to be his plus one to the event, was looking at him in scrutiny.

“Well, I’m a half-blood.” Admitting this felt like lead on the tongue and he didn’t know why. He realized then that it was the first time he’d openly said such a thing. Sure, most knew that his mum is a witch and his dad was a muggle, but he’d never used the vocabulary to describe it in plain speech.

“I’ve no connection to my father.” He added, “But my mum is a witch and went to Hogwarts.”

“Why?” Ventress asked, her eyes narrowed and looking at him scathingly, though unlike Sebulba, who he at least returned some retaliation to, Anakin couldn’t quite figure out what he’d done for Ventress to hate him.

“Now, now, Ventress,” Palpatine said firmly, “That’s quite personal. If Anakin does not wish to share, that’s his-”

“-I never knew him.” Anakin bit harshly and looked at every single person at the table in the eyes, if only to make them a little uncomfortable by the truth, “He left before I was born and I was raised with the knowledge of being a wizard in an all-muggle world.”

“You poor thing.” Miraj said sadly, “That must have been dreadful.”

“Agreed,” Tarkin leaned back with crossed arms, “To not only bring a child into this world as a natural… Misfit, so to speak, but to bail out on one’s duties as a father.”

“Anakin is not a misfit, Tarkin.” Obi-Wan warned.

“Oh, I never meant it that way.” He held up white gloved hands and smiled a bit, “Just that it must be confusing to be raised that way, right Skywalker?”

Anakin shrugged, “Yeah, I was always getting into trouble.”

“Exactly! Like a square peg trying to fit into a circle.” He clapped a bit and then raised an eyebrow, “You know nothing of struggling to fit in, do you, Kenobi?”

Anakin didn’t understand the daring nature of Tarkin’s tone, but it did bring a decent amount of tension to Obi-Wan’s already stiff posture. He didn’t see how this would be much of a low-blow. Obi-Wan’s family was one of the most affluent in the wizarding community and surely never wanted for anything. Still, there was something about his mentor that reflected differently, like he never really wanted to be a part of all that.

“Everyone must struggle to find themselves.” Palpatine said as he swirled what must have been wine around his glass, raising it to inspect it in the emerald low-light, “I’ve helped many a student find their way.”

Was one of those students Maul?

“If only the muggles had your assistance, Professor.” Miraj said dutifully.

Obi-Wan cleared his throat, “Well, muggle-borns would probably be a decent start.”

Everyone stopped eating and looked at Obi-Wan in surprise. Even Cody seemed shocked by the candor of his friend. Anakin, on the other hand, was just realizing that he was the only person in the room that wasn’t a pureblood. Surely, that couldn’t have been intentional. Professor Palpatine was nothing but kind to every student he had. Maybe, this year he didn’t see any other students worthy of invitation.

Then again, there was the glaring omission of Satine that seemed to hang over everyone’s heads.

“Professor Palpatine can invite whomever he chooses fit, Kenobi.” Tarkin said stiffly.

Palpatine didn’t appear the least bit affected by the comment and instead raised his glass in Obi-Wan’s steely direction, “A good point, my dear boy. We, as a community, are moving forward in a diverse direction. I just do not wish to invite someone based on tokenism, but of their truest merit.”

“And what defines such a thing, Professor?” Obi-Wan asked, keeping his voice cordial. “Clearly, it cannot be solely academic prowess or athleticism.”

“Why, I simply like to invite students I’m closest with! Those who I’ve seen grow and become brilliant young witches and wizards over the years and who I believe I’ve had a hand in molding.” Palpatine shrugged with a small smile, “I truly wish some of the muggle-borns and half-bloods would follow Anakin’s example and allow themselves to accel in my potions classroom.”

Anakin nodded at this. It was true that he had been gravitating towards Palpatine since the beginning of his time at Hogwarts. While he never fancied himself a teacher’s pet in the past, he didn’t understand why people were so afraid to talk to their professors.

“Good enough for you and your sudden zest for socio-political justice?” Ventress asked and the condescending tone she was giving Obi-Wan was what made Anakin angrier than anything else.

“It will have to be.” Obi-Wan said with a sip of sparkling cider.

Cody grinned as he ate more lambchop.

“Do tell us about your mother, Anakin.” Palpatine said with a smile, “Contrary to popular belief, I am quite curious what your life in the muggle world was like.”

“Oh, I lived a pretty regular life.” Though Anakin realized not a single wizard at this table really knew what that entailed for him, “My mum is a waitress and serves food to people.”

“We’re not stone aged, we know what waitresses are.” Ventress sneered.

“They don’t use magic to deliver food.” Anakin said, “So it’s a lot harder and they have to balance everything on this big tray. She works for this creep named Watto, who never gives her any holidays off or anything like that.”

“That’s awful.” Bail Organa, the sole representative from Hufflepuff house, said.

“Sounds like slavery to me.” Cody murmured.

“But she makes decent money.” He said, “Keeps a roof over our head and food in our stomach.”

“Who would have thought the bar was so low?” Miraj sighed.

Anakin ignored that and went on, “One thing muggles definitely have over wizards is television, because I’ve grown up watching a good deal of that. There’s all these fictional programs both animated and live-action and they act out stories.”

“Like in a play.” Obi-Wan said, utterly transfixed, “I’ve heard of it before, but I’ve never actually watched. Is it occurring live or is it pre-recorded?”

“Both!” Anakin chirped, “Reality TV is crazy and super weird. My mum says that’s staged too, but I don’t know if you can make some of that stuff up. I used to think the TV could hear me, but there are writers that make up the plots and stuff before they film.”

“And how does one operate such a device?” Tarkin asked.

“Oh, by electricity and stuff!”

“Electricity.” Cody said reverently, “We’ve actually got some of that in my house now.”

“No kidding?” Obi-Wan turned to Cody.

“For light bulbs and stuff. Ninety-Nine managed to figure out.”

“Well, he’s got not much else to do.” Snickered Faro Argyus, who had accompanied Ventress as her date.

“What did you say?” Gritted Cody as he placed firm hands to the table.

“Oh, nothing, just that he isn’t in school is all.” Faro’s smile feigned innocence, but had a shit-eating quality that made Anakin’s skin crawl. The fact that he chose now to join the discourse was a very poor decision on his end. Cody, meanwhile, looked like a blood vessel might burst in his head.

“If you’ve got something to say, spit it out. Just a warning that you might be spitting out some teeth too, if you say the wrong thing, mate.” Cody said tightly.

Everyone looked to Faro, who just snapped his trap shut like the coward he was and leaned back in his chair. Palpatine gave him a disapproving look before sighing.

“Please maintain decorum. This is meant to be a celebration, not a brawl.”

“Tell that to pretty boy.” Cody argued.

“I do not want to have to remove any points this evening, especially not from two guests.” Palpatine said it like he was reminding them that they didn’t need to be there. They were merely courtesies to Obi-Wan and Ventress.

“Don’t be a fool, Faro.” Ventress said, “We all know everyone’s capable in their own way.”

“Right you are, Ventress.” Palpatine smiled.

“For instance, Skywalker’s mum can screw more than just a lightbulb.” She fluttered her icy glare to Anakin, “Obviously.”

Anakin only remembered grabbing a fistful of bean dip before seeing nothing but white.

***  

After finally calming the calamity of flying food that ensued shortly after Anakin had made the first decisive throw, Professor Palpatine had deemed that the night was to be put to an abrupt end since it seemed most of them could not behave like civilized adults. This was fine with Obi-Wan, who hadn’t bothered to remove points from Anakin for starting the whole fight. After all, Ventress truly had something coming to her for speaking so far out of turn for no reason other than to be cruel.

Palpatine dismissed each of them except for Anakin, presumably to receive a firm talking to based on how impulsively he’d acted. Obi-Wan hoped he wasn’t too hard on him. It wasn’t like it hadn’t been deserved.

But that wasn’t how things worked at Hogwarts or in the real world, as his parents had been sure to teach him. Life wasn’t always fair and sometimes the wrong person got blamed simply for not being able to control themselves. It was why the aspect of controlling his emotions was always so important to them.

And for the most part, he thought he was quite good at it.

He still hadn’t been able to resist countering Palpatine’s charitable view of himself when it came to his invitees- not when there was a glaring omission. It wasn’t like Obi-Wan was particularly close with Palpatine. His parents might have been in their day, so he supposed there was a favor to be had there (one that likely would not be handed to him next year).

Guilt nagged at him as he considered the lack of empathy that dripped in Tarkin, Miraj, and Faro’s voices as they talked about the muggles or even Anakin’s situation. Even more so was it disturbing that Obi-Wan had clearly shielded himself from seeing just how clearly people were opposed to the other side of living. He didn’t get it, truly. Why did it matter? It wasn’t like muggles were exactly hunting them out. They would have a clear disadvantage if they were.

But maybe that was his own biases talking. Satine had gone on to tell him in excessive detail over the years about the various enhancements in modern technology that placed muggles far ahead of wizards. Maybe that’s what scared so many at the Ministry.

Still, Obi-Wan knew it wasn’t right. He saw the way Anakin looked so small under their questioning and he cringed at being unable to protect him completely from the scrutiny that would surely follow the boy. It certainly didn’t help his case that his father wasn’t involved. Wizards would grasp onto that for something to point to for certain, as if there weren’t plenty of wizard or witch deadbeats in their era.

His dress shoes clicked across the stone floor towards the library almost mindlessly. He knew he wouldn’t rest well if he didn’t express a true sentiment of apology. In a way, he was glad Satine wasn’t there. She didn’t deserve to be exposed to that sort of thinking. She could handle herself, of course, and while he was often beguiled by her, it had been obvious that she was upset by his manner of asking.

It wasn’t very proper of him, thinking back. His parents would have been very disappointed in how he’d gone about it if it were someone else.

So, he smiled at Jocasta Nu as he stuck his hands in his pockets and prepared himself to approach Satine with his tail between his legs. He couldn’t help but smile to himself about the fact that she was so often ahead of him and was likely expecting an appearance any second from now.

“Oh, Mr. Kenobi?” Jocasta Nu’s kind voice cut him off before he could get too far.

“Yes, Madame Nu?” He asked.

“You’re… Er, you’ve got some potatoes in your hair, dear.”

Obi-Wan frowned and turned his eyes up, noticing that his hair, while in disarray, was also coated in a white fluffy substance. He groaned as he reached up and grabbed a sample of it.

“That explains why Zeb asked me if I’m saving food for later, now doesn’t it?” He laughed half-heartedly. He glanced down towards his usual aisle and sighed. It seemed he would not only be giving Satine an apology, but something to tease him about for a very long time. At least that would make it a lot easier to accept his apology.

He tried to pick what he could from his hair and frowned even deeper at the realization that his clothes were covered in random splotches of food substance as well. He would certainly need to perform some cleaning and ironing spells on these later to get the stains out.

He was just about to vocalize a pun about wearing his dinner when he stopped dead in his tracks at the familiar sound of Satine’s laugh. Unless she was reading a particularly humorous tome, which he doubted, she wasn’t alone. As he slowly crept down the aisle and remained careful to be eclipsed by the bookcases around him, he peered around the corner to see none other than Fenn Rau sitting across from her.

Obi-Wan wasn’t sure why it suddenly felt like he’d eaten something bad at the dinner party, but it certainly wasn’t settling well. Rau was sitting in Obi-Wan’s usual seat, which bore a greater sense of unease in his chest as they chatted excitedly about what appeared to be the ridiculousness of wizarding politics.

It seemed Rau had found his in.

If Satine didn’t seem to appreciate the present company, Obi-Wan surely would have made his presence known and a small part of him- the part that made his teeth bite down on his tongue incredibly hard- still wanted to. For what? It felt strangely similar to the analogy of a pissing contest at the core and he didn’t know why he would be so eager to butt his way into their conversation.

It certainly wasn’t the way Satine’s laugh lit up the room or how Rau seemed to relish in just being in her mere presence. It absolutely was not that he’d beat him here or sat in his seat. It wasn’t like the guilt that once pooled in his sternum was now slipping into regret, as it so often easily could.

No, not at all.

As Rau talked about how passionate his wizard-father was about activism and his mother was practically an environmentalist, Obi-Wan suddenly felt like he didn’t belong here at all. It was as though he’d fallen so far behind on a race he never intended on running and to his perspective, could not catch up.

Did he want to?

He shook his head. Since she was happy and clearly not sulking over not attending Palpatine’s disastrous dinner party, he supposed he would just catch her at a different time.

***

Anakin didn’t quite remember lashing out at Asajj Ventress, but everyone, including Miraj, looked at him with a decent dose of apprehension. It was a stark reminder of what it felt like to be the freak last year. He didn’t like it, but it was sobering.

What worried him most was how Palpatine would react to his reaction. He wasn’t sure how anyone in their right mind could possibly allow Ventress off the hook for what she’d said. Even Obi-Wan hadn’t provided some lecture about how he could control his own actions and not the words of others. Instead, his mentor tried to quietly guide him out of the room to cool off. Instead, Palpatine had stopped him to have a chat.

The music had abruptly stopped, though Anakin had been so busy trying to garner some form of revenge on Ventress for what she said to notice. Everyone else had completely wrecked the place with scraps of food. Those finger bowls had truly been terribly placed and more of a mess in the end. Anakin, like everything else around the room, was covered in the five course meal.

It was at least a little good to know that wizards couldn’t resist a good food fight either.

He wondered when Palpatine was going to speak. He looked around the room in disappointment before raising his wand just above his head.

“Tersus Sursum!” He dashed his wand in an arched movement and before Anakin’s eyes, a mop and broom came flying out of the cupboard and got to work. A rag wiped down the walls where stray splatter had gathered. Even the ceiling was being tended to, which neither of them could have possibly reached if they wanted. Dishes raised themselves in the air and started to move to an already running sink. Palpatine didn’t even have to focus on them to continue their routine.

Anakin, despite likely being in massive trouble, couldn’t help but yearn for such a trick when he had to do chores at home. Still, if he wasn’t going to make Anakin clean the place, he wondered what punishment would seem fit.

“I apologize for the mess, Professor.” Anakin said quietly.

The only thing Palpatine took the time to clean for himself was a strange contraption that sat across his mantle. It was a little wooden prism that had to be a paperweight, that Palpatine touched only with the washcloth in hand before setting it back down.

“What Ventress said upset you.” He said instead.

Anakin frowned, “Well, yeah. Where I’m from, you don’t disrespect someone’s mum like that.”

“Indeed, mothers are often a soft spot,” He folded his hands behind his back, facing the darkness of his room as the cleaning tools worked on their own accord, “You do not need to apologize, Anakin.”

This surprised Anakin even more, “Really?”

If Windu had it his way, Anakin likely would have been writing a 5000 word essay on why throwing potatoes at a girl was worthy of the death penalty… Or something along those lines.

“Something was done wrong by you and you evened the score.” He said and finally turned back to face the light, a small smile on his lips, “You really should not fear your anger, my boy. It is only healthy to explore it, to understand it, to become the kind of powerful wizard you wish to be one day.”

“Thank you, Professor,” Anakin said.

“But of course, my dear boy.” Palpatine smiled, “If I could make a recommendation, it’s that next time you wish to get back at Ventress, please ruin your own drapes.”

He chuckled, “Yes sir.”

Through the fog of relief and surprise that was overcoming his senses, Anakin finally remembered his purpose for truly attending the banquet. It had been hard in the midst of the chaos that he’d brought and was even more difficult to fathom when Palpatine was being so understanding.

He stopped in his tracks, which had obviously caught Palpatine’s attention.

“Is everything alright, Anakin?”

“Yeah, I just… I wanted to say I’m glad you’ve chosen to take me under your wing…” Anakin lingered in the doorway. “Any student would be lucky. Pureblood or half-blood or not.”

“It matters not to me what you are, Anakin.” Palpatine said, “I believe you will go on to do great things. I’ve believed that before we discovered your prophecy, have I not?”

Anakin nodded, “You have… But what was it about me that made you believe I was special?”

“I’m older than you can imagine, I’m sure.” He laughed a bit to himself, “One develops a knack for it after all these years.”

“Did you see something in Maul?” It wasn’t as discrete as he’d hoped to be, especially based on the way the smile flickered on Palpatine’s face before he shook his head numerous times in curious denial.

“Maul was a very troubled boy.” He shivered, “Quite troubled, indeed. A very different situation than you. I wanted to help him, whereas I believe one day, you will help me and the rest of the wizarding community.”

Anakin swallowed, “So, you weren’t close?”

“I mentored him as best I could,” He said sympathetically, “He used to live in that Shrieking Shack during the summers. He had nowhere else to go. I only wanted to help him. Opened up my office to him at any time, because I did see power in him. It was a dangerous sort, of course, so I knew I had to limit him in what he could learn. There were certain spells and paths to darkness that while someone like myself could merely study from an objective perspective, Maul could use for real damage.”

“What happened to him?” He asked.

“He…” Palpatine sighed, “He lost control one day. A young Twi’lek girl named Eldra Kaitis was found impaled by none other than Maul’s dagger.”

Could it have been the same dagger found in the parcel Maul sent him?

Anakin gasped, “But… Why?”

“I asked myself that very question.” He said as he walked over to the window to look outside, “And the only answer that allows me to properly sleep at night is knowing that there was no helping him. There are people who choose darkness, Anakin. Those people can grow to be strong and wise in their own right. Look at Dooku, for instance. While evil, of course, he still maintains his sanity and decorum. Maul, on the other hand, was born of it. And there is no use trying to sustain it.”

He swallowed, “You must have taken that quite hard.”

“Oh, I did.” He said, “It was my greatest failure to date.”

Anakin shook his head, “I’m sorry to bring this up, Professor. I’m sure it upsets you talking about it. I’ve just been trying to find out why Maul would ever want to come for me. It’s not like I’ve ever done anything to him.”

“Well, we are turning up on the anniversary of his first kill.” Palpatine said, “And in many ways, I believe Maul fancies himself set up.”

“By who?” Anakin frowned, “He did it himself.”

“And admitted to it.” He said gravely, “We can’t really trust the tongue of a mad-man, though, can we?”

“No,” Anakin said, “We can’t.”

After he’d turned to leave and bid Palpatine goodnight, the old man waited a long moment, choosing to retain the sullen and sympathetic mask he wore so well, before curling his wrinkled lips into a devious smile.

“Sending the boy to spy… Well played, Professor Qui-Gon.”

***

“You were right…” The apprentice said to the flames that crackled softly in Slytherin house. Not a single soul dared to be awake after the embarrassment they’d just been through. The luminescence of the green fire felt like a reflection of her soul.

“Good…” A hushed voice responded. “You know what you need to do.”

“Yes.” They said, eyes practically glowing in anticipation for what was to come next. “So, long as that monster Maul doesn’t get in our way.”

“I’m sure he’ll be taken care of.” Dooku’s sly grin could send chills even so close to the hot flames.

“How can you be so sure?” They asked.

“He has a bone to pick with my master,” Dooku said, “The inadequate brute is never wise enough to know his limits. He believes he has none.”

“I see,” They said, “And what of me?”

“Do you have the sword?” His deep voice rumbled in his throat.

“I do.”

“Oh, there will be plenty more where that comes from,” He said. “Plenty more indeed. I will see you over break so we can reconvene.”

***

Satine yawned as she finally made her way up the spiral staircase and into the Ravenclaw common room. She’d been intent on going straight to bed, but was stopped immediately by a very disheveled-looking Obi-Wan as he practically launched up from his spot on the couch, where he’d obviously been waiting for her.

“You’re back.” He said and it was immediately apparent that something was off with him.

For one thing, he looked like he’d just paced back and forth enough times to accumulate the steps for a full marathon. His face was red and he looked quite anxious over seeing her. It was clear he had been waiting for her though.

Another, was that he was covered in food.

She’d almost forgotten how cross she was with him when she saw how silly he truly looked. She moved to pick a piece of lettuce that was stuck to the collar of his shirt. “Did you happen to get into a fight with a blender this evening?”

“I won’t even start with you on asking what that is,” He said, “I just wanted to have a word with you regarding this evening.”

She closed her eyes and sighed, “And here I wanted to go to bed without an argument beforehand.”

“I’ll keep it brief, I swear.” He was so earnest, even with what looked to be potatoes that coated his hair to droop into his face.

“Alright,” She crossed her arms like she wasn’t about to listen to him anyway. She still wanted some clarification on why he looked like such a mess.

“You deserved to be asked out tonight on a proper date.” Obi-Wan said and Satine suddenly felt like the air in her lungs had been replaced with jelly by some cruel spell and he didn’t stop there, “In a way that made you feel like the beautiful person that you are… With the person you fancy.”

“I- Er- Uh”

“Anything intelligent would be good right now, thank you, Kryze.”

Luckily, he showed no signs of noticing the way her brain stopped producing normal and coherent thoughts.

“And more than anything, I want you to be happy.” He insisted, almost like he was convincing himself and he took her hands in his, “Trust me when I say you weren’t missing much tonight, aside from possibly seeing me get my face dunked in a pie…”

She felt laughter bubble up at that and was relieved for it, because she thought she might pass out soon if she didn’t have the excuse for a dramatic inhale of breath. Her cheeks might pop by how hard she must have been smiling.

His smile was radiant and nervous as he said, “But I promise you… This person you fancy… Feels the same way back.”

It was quite possible the angels were singing and a warm glow of sunshine prematurely hung over them in that moment. Her eyes flickered to his mouth as she stepped closer to him. She’d never seen someone look handsome while covered in casserole, but Obi-Wan Kenobi was an enigma in and of itself.

“Oh, does he?” She was finally able to say and could have patted herself on the back right then and there for not making it sound like a little chipmunk squeak. It definitely ran the risk of doing so by how little oxygen her brain was getting right now.

“He does.” His mouth twitched and if she wasn’t so busy buzzing off the shock that rattled through her from how unexpected this confession was, she would have thought he looked a bit green. Then again, he was never great with handling his feelings.

“Is he going to do anything about it?” She asked after a long beat of Obi-Wan searching her face with his calculating eyes.

“I don’t know, why don’t you ask him?” He said, “I think he’s probably a bit intimidated.”

“There’s absolutely no reason for that.” She said, “He can tell me anything.”

“Yes, well, I’m glad for that.” Obi-Wan said, “You should tell him.”

“Alright then,” She took a deep breath and squeezed his hands in an attempt to both center her courage and tamper down the butterflies in her stomach, “Ben, I-”

“Oh, Satine, you forgot your quill in the library!” Fenn Rau trotted up the stairs behind her and she swore, pacifism be damned, that she almost shoved him backwards. They shared a laugh or two this evening, but had drawled on and on to the point where her eyes felt they might droop shut earlier. On top of that, he did have the awful tendency to pop up at the worst of times.

“Ah, Rau, brilliant.” Obi-Wan didn’t seem as enthusiastic as his words tried to make him out to be, “Satine wanted to talk to you about something.”

Satine shot back around to Obi-Wan, eyes wide in shock, “I what?”

“You know, what we were just discussing.” He said, “Literally three seconds-”

“-I wasn’t- You weren’t- He is not-” And just like that, Satine’s brain stuttered back into the present and realized what had unfortunately been going on.

“Are you alright?” Poor Rau, who never asked for any of this, was looking at Satine like she was having a stroke. Then again, she very well might be.

“She was fine a moment ago.” Obi-Wan placed a warm hand on Satine’s arm, which would normally be a very comforting gesture. Except right now, it felt sweltering under the circumstances.

Where there had once been the sweet and soft sensation of what she’d hoped to be verbalized mutual affection, there was now the fervid storm that was just how stupid they both were at the same time.

Him, for failing to use that brilliant mind of his for anything outside of reading a book and her for ever believing that it would be that easy.

“What is it?” Fenn asked.

She knew that because of Obi-Wan’s idiocy, she had to say something, but she was having a difficult time wrapping her head around anything except for the fact that after all of this time, Obi-Wan was under the impression that she fancied Fenn Rau somehow.

“I’d like to switch patrol times.” She spat, “I fear if I have to look at him in the morning I might just turn him sunny-side up.”

“Er… Alright.” Fenn said slowly, but likely more because he was a bit nervous to say anything else. Because one boy in this room had to have a little bit of sense, he slithered away from them to finish whatever was obviously going on. She only wished Obi-Wan exercised that sort of intuition every once in a while.

After the door shut behind him, Obi-Wan turned to her with a frown.

“What was that?”

She pointed a finger at him, anger spewing out every which way, “That was you being an absolute moron!”

“Satine!” He called after her as she shoved past him towards the staircase, “I was only trying to help you get a bloody date!”

“I didn’t want a bloody date!” She fired back, venom pumping heavily through her veins. Oh, if only softer words came as easily, “I wanted you to stop being a fool and it seems that is a lost cause of a wish, now isn’t it?”

“I resent that!” He countered, “You’re the one who’s been snapping off at me like I’m supposed to be a mind-reader! I saw the two of you together and I know he likes you. What else was I to think?”

“That if I were ever given the choice between you and anyone else in the entire cosmic universe, I would always always choose you. Even when you’re being positively ridiculous and have unsavory food in your hair and on your clothes. There’s not even a competition as far as I’m concerned. I just want you to know that.”

“That I shouldn’t have to spell everything out for you!” She argued, “That he’s not my type, I don’t know! You’re just supposed to know! Not pawn me off to the first person that expresses interest.”

“I didn’t mean it like that.” He said with a lot less fire than before, “I’m sorry.”

She sighed through her nose, finding it difficult to be mad at him when he was looking up at her with sad eyes like that. “It’s alright.”

He slowly traversed up the steps to meet her and then stand over her in height, “I didn’t mean to embarrass you.”

“I know.” She said quietly. “Did you want it to be him?”

“Heavens, no.” He blurted out and then coughed, “I’m not sure who I would have liked it to be, though.”

She almost wanted to shake him to get him to process that thought just a little more and he reached out and hesitantly took her hand, “But whoever he is, he’s quite lucky.”

“You’re still an idiot.” She said, meaning it quite thoroughly.

“I know.” He said just as gently, “But I’d like to think I’m your idiot.”

Yes, indeed. And Satine was too for her treasonous heart’s increase in pace at his quiet words. They hadn’t been the ones she’d wanted, but they would do.

***

Cody shoved his things into his duffle bag. He never necessitated bringing that much home for Christmas break. He didn’t see why he would need to. He had some winter clothes at home and most of what he would be doing consisted of playing outside anyway. Underwear, socks, toiletries, and his winter outerwear would more than do.

And of course, all of his Quidditch stuff, which admittedly tended to provide a bit of weight, much to the prefects’ verbal complaints when they got stuck with luggage duty. Another large part of his exit duties was to ensure his brothers were ready to go. His father would have his head if he didn’t make sure the other boys were well-prepared.

The twins were mostly attune to this routine by now and despite their tendencies of playing around, knew better than to test the formidable stoicism of Jango Fett. It wasn’t like Rex was keen on being a bugger, but he was still a little guy and often unprepared for leaving, no matter how many times Cody asked him if he’d started packing.

“Why do you get to pack last minute and I don’t?” He complained.

“Because I’ve got it down to a science and you forgot to bring socks home last year,” Cody said plainly, “You’re lucky we all had hand-me-downs ready to go.”

In all fairness, growing up the youngest of seven likely resulted in Rex never being short on hand-me-downs.

“We’re wizards, I could have just washed them.” He said.

“Muggles can wash their clothes too, mate.”

“Don’t act like you know how.” He complained as he dejectedly sat back on his bunk. Cody had already inspected his littlest brother’s bag and approved that he’d packed everything necessary, but his forlorn expression was towards the already made up bunk across from him.

Rex was still quite cross about his falling out with Skywalker, of which the boy absolutely refused to budge on speaking about. He claimed he was fine and better off without him, but Cody caught him more than once pulling out the issues of comic books that Anakin had given him the previous year.

A couple weeks off would do the boy some good, clear his head and all that. Cody, meanwhile, was just looking forward to having time outside of classes to scramble up a strategy for the back half of the year. So, their team hadn't gotten off on the show stopping start that he’d wished for them. A little bit of stakes was good for any team. They were very much still in the game and so long as Maul or any creepy possessions didn’t cancel the season, they had nothing to fear.

“Alright, well, I’m heading down to the train. Are you coming?” He asked.

“Yeah, I’m coming. I’ll wait for the twins.”

“Right, well don’t wait up,” Cody snorted as he looked over to Echo and Fives as they were debating which pranks from Zonko’s to bring home and more importantly, which to unleash on their older brothers first.

“I’ll keep an eye on them,” Rex puffed out his chest.

“Good man,” Cody smiled.

The boy needed some more confidence and Cody learned by now that it was no good in taking him down right now, even in a joking matter.

He clapped the shoulders of a few of his teammates on his way down and out the Gryffindor common room, his trunks floating aimlessly behind him as he went. Many other students did the same as he entered the chaos that was the hallway outside of Gryffindor’s entrance. Prefects led and escorted younger students, reminding them to also bring the necessities home.

He perked up when he caught a glimpse of Kenobi’s pristine head, who was just finishing a side conversation with Bail Organa. It seemed the two were trading notes of some kind.

“What’d you get stuck with this time?” He asked.

Kenobi sighed and looked down to his clipboard, “I’m to count heads once aboard the train.”

“Right on, you’ll be along soon then.” He said.

“Hopefully,” He shrugged, “Everyone’s running around like it’s a madhouse today. Not sure why everything feels different.” He leaned in, “Between you and me, I awoke with a horrible feeling in the pit of my stomach.”

Cody snorted, “Probably lingering food poisoning from that rich food from the banquet.”

“I mean it, Cody,” He said seriously, “Bail said no one in his house slept very well last night.”

Cody scratched the back of his neck, “Well, that’s pretty unusual for the Hufflepuffs. What do they have to worry about? Not like they’re concerned about winning the House Cup.”

“It’s just uneasy that all of the students will be free from Hogwarts protective barriers for the first time since Maul released himself.” He sighed heavily, clearly trying to convince himself, “That’s all.”

“Yeah, well, I reckon Maul is trying to hide deep in the mountains or something, away from people that are going to catch him,” Cody waved him off, “You just need some fresh air.”

“You look green,” Fenn Rau approached them unannounced and while Cody didn’t have nearly the same level of beef with the fifth year, he also didn’t appreciate his unprecedented arrivals in the middle of private conversations.

“Thanks,” Kenobi frowned.

“Satine must have really let you have it last night, huh?” He smirked, which made Kenobi look like he would take great pleasure in smacking the smugness from his face. Kenobi was a great deal more cordial than Cody, though.

Unfortunately, Cody was merely just flabbergasted at what he could possibly be talking about.

“What happened last night?” Cody asked Kenobi, whose face went a shade pink.

“Just a bit of a misunderstanding,” He shrugged and Cody knew by now not to take his casual aplomb so literally.

“Oh, you should have seen it!” Rau laughed, “Satine looked like she wanted to mess him up! If she wasn’t so committed to her stance against any form of violence, I’d say she would have! Prefect status be damned!”

Wow, that must have been quite the fight for them to be so caught up that they didn’t stop on Rau’s behalf. Cody would need details later.

“I’ll have you know, everything is perfectly fine. Don’t you worry,” Kenobi said tightly and looked back down to his clipboard, “Don’t you have guard duty with Zeb?”

Rau blew a breath out through his nose, “Yeah, I just hope he doesn’t still have such awful gas. I don’t know who thought it fit to give him leftovers, but it was cruel.”

When Kenobi smiled a bit at the fifth year Ravenclaw’s departure, Cody nearly fell over in a fit of laughter.

“Maybe you should have been a Slytherin!” He smacked his arm.

Kenobi fully broke his pristine facade for a moment, offering him a grin, “I’ve no idea what you’re talking about.”

***

“Need help with that?” Professor Fisto asked as Anakin struggled to drag his suitcase behind him. Normally, his stuff wouldn’t be so heavy, but Cody had insisted they practice over break and that meant bringing equipment home. His mother was going to kill him when this weighed down the trunk of her car.

“Yes sir,” He nodded eagerly as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor easily plucked the bag up and carried it by the handle. They walked in tandem down the winding path that led them towards the Hogsmeade station. A few giggling girls were not far behind them, likely not in awe of Anakin.

He looked up at the aquatic professor in scrutinization. He was, no doubt, a great professor and taught them more dueling tactics than Anakin could count, but he really didn’t see why they all drooled over him.

“Where do you live?” He asked.

“I’m from the coast.” Professor Fisto smiled, “I do look forward to dipping my toes in some real water.”

“Do you live underwater?” He supposed a lake didn’t count, but then again, Anakin did prefer swimming in the ocean.

“People like me kind of have to,” He smiled, “Aside from wizarding settlements, muggles might have some questions when looking at me unless I’m in disguise.”

“Living in disguise would be pretty hard,” Anakin nodded, “I don’t get why everything needs to be so divided.”

“Blood-torn history,” When he shook his head, his long green tentacles wiggled and shifted on their own accord, “I hope that someday we can find mutual peace. I don’t think I’m alone in that hope either.”

“You want peace?” He raised an eyebrow, “But you’re the one who started the dueling club!”

“To teach you to protect yourself,” Kit Fisto said, “I’d prefer diplomatic negotiations towards a fight any day, but that isn’t how the world works right now. They say you’re going to be the one to set it right.”

“I don’t see how,” Anakin admitted. Talking to Kit Fisto was surprisingly easy, considering they didn’t know each other that well outside of class. Anakin had a good grade in DADA and was top of his tier in the dueling club and up until now, that seemed more than enough.

“You’ll have help,” Fisto nodded, “Everyone needs it.”

“Even bad guys?” He asked.

“Bad guys think they don’t need help, which is part of their weaknesses that can be exploited.”

“Some people think Maul had help back in the day, but I don’t know much about that,” Anakin shrugged and glanced towards the Shrieking Shack. It had a different connotation now that he understood it was Maul who committed that awful murder there that Rex had referenced previously.

“Maybe he did, but he’s on his own now,” Fisto shrugged, “Evil, like the Sith, don’t flourish with teamwork. They always get too big for their britches in my experience. That’s why grouping together to fight is the best laid plan we could have. To combat an evil like Maul, for instance, it’s going to take an army.”

Anakin hoped that’s all it took.

***

Winter break had crept up on her this year. With the dementors still lurking on the premises and the threat of Maul and Dooku looming over them, the holidays just didn’t feel the same. Satine had been tasked with roll call of every fourth year and Obi-Wan, who was working beside her, was in charge of the fifth years. They worked steadily beside one another until every single student had been boarded onto the Hogwarts express.

“I’m only missing Rau,” He tilted his head, scrutinizing his list, “He should still be with Zeb guarding the first car.”

“I’m missing someone...” Satine was running through her list again, double, triple checking before she raised her hand waving over Professor Qui-Gon who looked at her very concerned to have been needed, “Bultar Swan’s not here,” She handed her list to their professor who frowned.

“Obi-Wan?” He asked, tucking her list under his arm, “Are you finished?” He nodded and handed over his as well, “Alright, the two of you need to get on the train, I’ll check this out.”

He waved them off. Obi-Wan watched him walk away with a glimmer of sadness in his eyes, but when Satine touched his shoulder, he shook her off with a smile.

“After you,” He bowed at her gesturing for her to get on the train which she did happily.

“Such a gentleman,” She joked, leading them towards their usual cabin.

Things were much more strict this year, that much she could tell as she settled into her seat across from Cody. The train wouldn’t leave until everyone was accounted for, which perhaps made more sense than just making everyone who missed the train stay at school for the holidays. They weren’t allowing many students to stay this year, only those who made a case to the Headmaster himself, which were few and far between. She supposed the threat was just too big.

“You’re going to Qui-Gon’s ��unofficial’ holiday party aren’t you?” Obi-Wan’s voice shook her out of her thoughts and she turned to look at him. Why was he asking her that? Did that mean he wanted to see her? She mentally chastised herself. Of course he’d want to see her, and Cody. Anything was likely better than spending more time in that house of his, though the thought did make her heart hurt.

“I am,” She confirmed, “Are you?”

He nodded, “I’ll find a way.”

“Cody?” She broke away from staring into Obi-Wan’s grey-blue eyes that always looked just a little melancholic when they sat together on the train.

“Of course!” He perked up, “Free food and a party! The Fett boys love a good time.”

They were interrupted by Professor Kit Fisto, who popped his head into his compartment, marked them down on his list and then with an apologetic smile closed their door. He needn’t explain, Yoda had warned them that morning that there was to be no moving about the train, their doors were magically locked and would only open in an emergency. In little time at all, the train whistle blew and she felt the lurch as it pulled out of the station. Her thoughts felt lighter as she realized they must have found the elusive Bultar Swan. She had likely just slipped through Satine’s fingers.

***

“Send the train,” Windu had instructed even over Qui-Gon’s rather loud objection.

“Mace we’re still missing a fourth year-” He had called, but once the train started there was really no stopping it.

“We’ll find her,” Windu nodded towards the castle, “We can take her home through the Floo Network, but there’s no use halting the train any longer for one student,” Qui-Gon didn’t look like he much agreed, but he could do nothing else to protest so instead he just looked down at Satine’s careful handwriting.

“Well, let’s get a move on then,” Qui-Gon turned towards Hogsmeade, they had a bit of a walk back to the castle gates. A walk that Windu spent searching for any traces of a possible kidnapping. He doubted Ms. Swan was valuable to the likes of Dooku or Maul, but then again, he was hardly sure what they wanted with Mr. Skywalker. Prophecy or not they chose quite a handful of a student to go after.

He found nothing amiss, not even a broken stick, by the time they entered into the castle, the large doors slamming shut behind them. Wordlessly both he and Qui-Gon took out their wands and latched the door shut. There would be no need to open them again any time soon.

“Headmaster Yoda,” Qui-Gon greeted and sure enough when Mace turned around he was greeted with the sight of his old friend. Yoda hadn’t been standing there before and never moved very quickly, yet always seemed to appear places where Mace felt he should have heard him coming. If apparition wasn’t forbidden in the school, he would have blamed such a feat on that.

“Back so soon, you are?” He questioned and Qui-Gon frowned.

“We’re missing a student,” Qui-Gon seemed not to know when such things should be kept on the down low. Mace crossed his arms already looking to see if anyone had overheard. Yoda frowned, a grave sort of expression crossing his face.

“Find this student, we will.”

Mace knew that Yoda was under immense outside pressure. The Kenobi’s had of course let their anger with the Headmaster show at the conferences, but they weren’t the only family to express several grievances and concerns.

“We will,” Mace repeated as he nodded to both the Headmaster and Qui-Gon before turning and heading off to check the dungeons.

Qui-Gon would check the Ravenclaw common room and the Headmaster would likely check amongst the students. Mace had to frown when he remembered that because of the tunnels, there was much more ground to cover and she could even be in another common room with her friends. With that thought in mind he paused in front of a rather unassuming wall.

Pressing his hand to the wall he muttered a quiet, “Sneezewort,” before the wall practically sucked him inside. It was an unwelcome feeling and he wasn’t sure how the Slytherin’s had become immune to the way the stones scraped against their skin as they phased through. Perhaps they hadn’t.

The inside of the common room glowed green from the light filtering down through the lake's surface. He was greeted with a couple very confused looking Slytherins. A third year boy who had been watching a few of the aquatic residents swim around and a 7th year girl with a few books spread out before her. Both stared up at him as if they were waiting to get in trouble. When he did nothing, but march to check the boys dormitory, the girl stood up.

“What mysterious thing are you looking for now?” She huffed. Mace turned back towards her. She had her arms crossed and was looking up at him in annoyance, “You think we have Maul locked up down here or something?”

He shouldn’t be so surprised, of course the students were on edge, especially the older students. School hadn’t been as chaotic and dangerous before last year, certainly the extra stress was getting to the older students, especially the seventh years trying to take their NEWT exams.

“I’m looking for a student,” Mace decided not to give her the full details, lest Ms. Swan was trying to hide from them, “Would you check the girls' dormitories for me?” The seventh year straightened, she looked appreciative to have been given such a task. With a nod she hurried up the stairs.

Neither of them ended up finding anyone else and Mace left their common room without another word. The rest of the dungeons were just as boring as they usually were. He barely even looked in Palpatine’s office, there certainly seemed no where for anyone to hide in there unless they curled up under the desk or managed to fit in the chest in the corner.

As he ascended the stairs, of course he nearly ran right into a first year Ravenclaw girl who looked particularly upset. She looked surprised to see him, looking up at him with the wide eyes of a child before she stuck a finger out, pointing towards the far end of the school.

“The Headmaster and Professor Qui-Gon are looking for you,” She let him know with a head nod, “No one can enter Ravenclaw tower.”

***

The train hissed into the station and students piled out chatting amicably with one another. Despite the rather dangerous nature that the year had begun with, the holidays seemed to have lifted spirits well enough. Or perhaps, Anakin considered, it was once again being with your family.

Anakin felt a little out of place just standing in a sea of students trying to stand on his tippy toes to see over their heads. He managed to pick out Hevy in the crowd, and his heart panged. Rex was still rather angry with him, Anakin hadn’t sat with him on the train. He’d actually ended up stuck between Miraj Scintel and Asajj Ventress in a compartment full of Slytherins. It hadn’t been his favorite company to keep. Especially since none of them seemed particularly interested in the Christmas cartoons he was hoping to catch on TV.

He tripped and nearly fell into what seemed to be the eye of the storm. Students still pushed and shoved all around them, but all were avoiding this particular space.

“Oh Anakin,” He recognized the voice and sure enough when he looked up he was looking into the eyes of Obi-Wan’s mother. She was smiling down at him as if pleased he’d landed in her presence. Obi-Wan was standing a little behind her and although he was standing at attention his eyes seemed to hold a lecture that Anakin was grateful he couldn’t deliver at the moment, “How wonderful it is to see you.”

“It’s nice to see you again too, ma’am,” He nodded at her, but tried to look behind her for a hint of the woman he really wanted to see.

“Lost?” Obi-Wan’s mum looked concerned and even Obi-Wan opened his mouth to ask him, but Anakin shook his head.

“Nope! I’m just looking for my mum,” He assured them, “She said she’d pick me up at the station, but I wouldn’t put it past that sleazebag Watto to make her late.”

“Late for picking up her own son though,” Obi-Wan’s mother tsked as she looked at him, “Perhaps we could accompany you home?”

“Mother-” Obi-Wan didn’t seem to agree, but a glance from his mother was enough to get him to stand down it seemed.

“No that’s ok,” Anakin shook his head, “She’ll be here, I just have to be patient,” He grinned, “I’m sure Obi-Wan knows that’s not my best skill, but as the Chosen One, I’m sure I can handle it.”

His mentor seemed to disapprove of his joke, but it made Mrs. Kenobi laugh so he guessed it wasn’t too bad, “If you’re sure. We could always take you back to our place.”

“No thanks,” Anakin had to admit, the offer was tempting. He was curious to where Obi-Wan lived especially since his family had quite a bit of money, but he was far too eager to get back to his own abode, “Thanks for the broomstick by the way, it flies great!” He’d sent a thank you note already, but his mum always said doing things in person looked better.

“Glad to hear it-” She was likely going to continue their conversation, but Anakin caught a glimpse of wispy brown hair.

“I think I see her!” He pointed over the crowd, “Got to go, bye!”

He dipped and dodged through the crowd again before finally reaching her.

“Mum!” But the women who turned had a rounder face and deep green eyes. Anakin nearly tripped over his feet, as to not run into her, “Oh.”

That certainly wasn’t his mother.

***

Qui-Gon was pondering.

A difficult feat as the raven door knocker was spewing riddles faster than anyone could answer them. Such noise made it hard to think at all. Headmaster Yoda was doing little to help reign in control, he simply answered riddles that had been asked nearly 5 minutes prior. It wasn’t getting them anywhere.

“Mace,” Qui-Gon heard the other man’s footsteps before he saw him. Gryffindor’s Head of House seemed just as confused as he was.

“What’s all this?” Mace questioned inspecting the brass knocker before raising an eyebrow at Qui-Gon.

“I was hoping you would know,” He answered with a sigh, “It was like this when I got here. Must have been some kind of spell.”

Mace frowned, “Not one I know. It would have to be fairly powerful to break such an artifact,” That much Qui-Gon had already known.

“Do away with the door, we could,” Yoda suggested, but Qui-Gon jumped between the Headmaster’s wand and the door.

“There must be another way,” Qui-Gon grimaced, he really didn’t want to have to find a fair replacement for his house. Such lines of thinking reminded him of the tunnels. There weren’t any leading to Ravenclaw house of course, but tunnels were not the only way for wizards to get around, “The fireplace!” He shouted suddenly enough to scare off a stray Hufflepuff from the area.

“Are our fireplaces within the Floo network?” Mace questioned looking towards the Headmaster who shook his head.

“Officially, they are not,” He put a small hand to his chin, “However locally, hmmmm.”

“My office is closest,” Qui-Gon recommended and hurried off with Mace and the Headmaster following behind.

***

Mace had to admit, this was a rather clever idea. Qui-Gon was consistently proving himself as both a Ravenclaw and the best choice for their Head of House. Still the man was notoriously messy and Mace nearly tripped over a stack of philosophy books piled just high enough to not be noticeable at first. It was a far cry from Mace’s rather organized and clean office. Despite these barriers, Qui-Gon never seemed to lose anything. In fact he pulled his pot of Floo powder out from under a pillow as if it had always been there. Mace quite doubted that was the case.

Qui-Gon was about to thrust his hand into the powder when Mace held out his hand to stop him.

“Wait,” Mace gestured for the man to pass him the jar which he did with a rather skeptical look, “We don’t know if we’re going to be trapped on the inside and the school certainly can’t be down 3 caretakers,” Both Qui-Gon and Yoda exchanged hesitant looks. Mace was glad that he had been with them, if he hadn’t the other two may have gotten themselves trapped within the common room for hours before someone would have noticed.

“I’ll go,” Qui-Gon suggested, “It is my house after all.”

“Admirable,” Mace nodded, but refused to hand back the jar to Qui-Gon, “I have more experience however,” Qui-Gon gave him a foul look, Mace paid him no mind, “I’ll go, if the girl is there I’ll find her.”

“Wait on the other side of the door, I shall,” Headmaster Yoda decided with a nod, “Meet Professor Windu when he is done searching I will.”

“So what? I’m just supposed to wait here?” Qui-Gon frowned at Mace’s nod of affirmation, “And what is the point in that?”

“You never know,” Mace frowned, “Opening up a Floo network, even within the school could make us vulnerable for attack, someone should monitor it,” He wasn’t really sure if it would or not, but he felt they couldn’t be too safe. They’d already found a fatal flaw when Skywalker had been able to previously use Dooku’s fireplace to attempt traversing to Hogsmeade.

“Alright fine,” Qui-Gon relented, stepping aside, “We’ll do it your way, but do be swift, Ms. Swan may not even be up there.”

“I’m not the type to doddle, Jinn,” Mace reminded him as he stepped into the fireplace.

“Ravenclaw Common Room.”

The world bended and stretched. Qui-Gon’s office was replaced with bricks and entryways of several different choices, but thankfully the common room was a relatively short trip. If there hadn’t been for such odd circumstances, this would be considered a rather lazy move even by wizarding standards.

He stepped out of the fireplace and the blue and silver of the common room came into focus past the green of the fire and he looked around for anything out of place or odd. He fingered his wand, not eager to draw it, lest a student would be at the other end, but he certainly didn’t want to leave himself unguarded from attack. It was the sort of thinking one didn’t unlearn even after leaving the aurors.

Nothing so much as swayed in the breeze however so he let himself relax just a touch. He wasn’t in Ravenclaw’s common room much, but he knew which book to look for on the shelf to reveal the girl’s dormitory. He’d check there first as it was more likely that she had simply run up to grab something and gotten locked inside.

The bookshelf creaked softly as it bowed to the side to admit him. There was no one on the stairs and no one made an appearance even as he tried stepping loudly enough to give away his presence.

“Hello?” He called, his students should easily recognize his voice, they heard it at least twice a week.

There was no response. It felt almost too silent and his fingers brushed against his wand once more. Well if no one was around, it wouldn’t hurt to draw it. Pointing his wand low in case he did encounter a rogue student, he pushed the door open to the 4th year girl’s dorm slowly.

At the far side of the room, facing away from him was Bultar Swan, but she didn’t make any movements at his entry.

“Ms. Swan,” Mace called, stepping carefully across the room. Still she didn’t move so he put a gentle hand on her shoulder before rapidly pulling away.

It was a cool sensation rather than a warm one that had him ripping his hand away from the lost girl. Now that he was close enough he could see an unnatural sheen across her skin. As he walked around her his heart seemed to freeze just like the expression of shock and terror engraved on the girl’s face. Her eyes were wide and her mouth open like she was going to scream. Her hands were going for her wand, but she hadn’t made it in time. It seemed that neither had he.

***

The streets of London were rather busy as the sun lowered in the sky. It was likely rush hour and Anakin was just trying to get home. He’d let Artoo out to fly on his own, it was one less thing to carry and he already had his massive trunk he was dragging behind him.

He’d waited at the station until even the train had disappeared and he was starting to wish he’d taken the Kenobi’s up on their offer, even if Obi-Wan hadn’t seemed to like the idea. It would certainly beat carrying everything. He bet that a family like the Kenobi’s had a big broom or a lot of Floo powder. Or maybe they could have even apparated him there. He knew Obi-Wan was in a special class for it and he assumed nearly every witch or wizard got their license out of convenience.

If he hadn’t been in a fight with Rex he supposed the clones would have helped him out. They had lingered at the station for an awfully long time before finally departing. He thought he’d felt eyes on him, but every time he looked over they were busy wrestling with each other or talking too loudly. Anakin felt quite a lot of envy towards their antics. He missed Rex more than he’d admit.

At least he’d finally made it to his street. He could see the sign for Watto’s seedy pub and he would have made a run for it to show that greedy bastard where he could shove it the next time he made his mum work a shift when she had other, more important plans, but his luggage was holding him back. He pushed the door open and was greeted by the smell of stale booze and grease. It would have been pretty disgusting if it wasn’t a little nostalgic. As much as he despised the likes of Watto and the way his mum had to break her back just to afford the rent for their apartment, it was still home.

“Oh if it isn’t little Ani!” Watto crowed nearly knocking over one of his waitresses, “Tell your mum rent’s due.”

“When is it not due,” Anakin muttered under his breath before speaking loud enough for the owner to hear him over the din of patrons, “Have you seen her? She was supposed to come pick me up,” He made sure to say it in an accusatory tone even if such things were lost on the man.

“Eh, not today, grab the spare and go on up,” He shrugged, “Maybe she forgot.”

“Not likely,” Anakin whispered as he pushed past him. It was much more likely that she’d fallen asleep, Watto never had her working consistent hours and often she worked more than she was home. It wouldn’t be completely out of the question for her to have slept through an alarm. Still it was the first time she hadn’t shown up for him and he did feel a twinge of sadness at the thought.

Anakin snatched the spare key to their apartment off the pegboard in Watto’s smelly office before dragging his suitcase up the stairs. He had to use two hands since he couldn’t use magic and had no one else to help him. He was certain that if he had asked the owner he would have just gotten laughed at. He didn’t want his stupid help anyways.

He knocked on the door first, “Hello? Mum? It’s me! Anakin!” When there wasn’t any response, Anakin fumbled with the key until he felt the tumblers in the lock click. He pushed the door open and hesitated.

The air felt… stale.

Not eager to step inside, he called out again.

“Mum! You forgot to come to the train station! It’s okay though, I’m not mad!”

There was no response.

Anakin felt his throat tighten and his heart pick up. He pulled his wand out of his pocket, he wasn’t really supposed to use magic except for studying, but he doubted such rules would really stop him.

He took a deep breath before stepping inside. The door creaked shut behind him.

The first thing he noticed was their dining room chairs strewn across the floor. That was pretty weird because Anakin always got in trouble for not pushing them in when he was done. He rationalized that sometimes his mother got to do things he wasn’t allowed too, maybe she didn’t always have to replace the chairs. He stepped into the kitchen, nothing else seemed out of place, but when he opened the fridge he nearly vomited at the smell.

Sour milk.

His mother was always really good at getting fresh groceries, but maybe she’d just forgotten, it had happened once before.

“Mum! The milk’s gone bad!” He called again and strained his ears for an answer.

Silence.

He swallowed past a lump steadily growing in his throat. Was this some sort of joke? He hoped not, because it really wasn’t very funny.

There was nothing amiss in the living room, but also, no sign of his mum. He didn’t bother checking in his own room, as she was rarely in there. She always said she wasn’t very interested in his comics, but she was a good mum and listened to him talk about them anyways. He felt his eyes water, it must be a little dusty.

He knocked on his mother’s bedroom door, certainly not wanting to enter without notifying her; she always said it was always good to be polite. With no answer though he had no choice but to push the door open.

Feathers.

There were feathers everywhere. It was like the pillows had exploded and it coated the room. He stepped on inside and nearly tripped over a fallen book. That book only fell off the shelf when he opened the door too quickly. His mother knew that and he knew that, so why had it fallen?

Unless someone else was there. Had been there.

“If someone’s in here! Come out!” He managed to shout, clutching his wand like a lifeline and trying to think of a few dueling spells Professor Fisto had drilled into them. He supposed a good stupify would work. He’d have to explain it to the school, but it would save him and his mother.

Not so much as a feather moved and Anakin tried to calm his racing heart enough that he could hear something beyond the rushing of blood through his ears. He picked his way across the floor. What if his mother was here, but hurt? He certainly didn’t want to see that, but if she was, he would have to help her. Maybe he should have tried to learn some healing spells. He’d ask Madame Nema after this all got sorted out.

He peaked quickly over the side of her bed and was almost relieved when he saw nothing. He checked under the bed in case anyone was hiding under there, but saw nothing, but dust and feathers.

He walked over to check the bathroom and something crunched underfoot. Kneeling down he brushed aside a feather and gasped. A shattered frame, glass scattered across the floor. It was a picture of Anakin, standing proudly in his wizard’s robes. The picture didn’t move, but Anakin sure did- running out the door of his Mum’s bedroom and back into the living room.

She wasn’t here. There was no sign of her and the house didn’t look very lived in. All but the chairs and the bedroom with all the feathers. He felt like he was being watched and kept looking over his shoulder as he nearly shattered another picture frame reaching for the pot holding their small emergency Floo powder. He wanted to leave, but what if his mum did come home? She could walk in at any minute and they could be scared together about the possible house burglary. Still, that didn’t mean he wanted to be here alone.

Another thought came to him, he could call using the fireplace. Qui-Gon had taught him and he knew the offices at the castle were connected to the network. He just had to hope the Professor was in his office.

“Coniunctionem,” Anakin’s voice shook as he said the spell, sprinkling the powder into the fireplace. Flames sprung up where there hadn’t been any and Anakin blurted out, “Professor Qui-Gon Jinn's Office!” Before shoving his head into the fireplace.

Anakin nearly jumped when he saw Qui-Gon immediately, already staring into the fire in surprise.

“Anakin!” Words sounded weird through the fire, the tones of Qui-Gon’s voice being translated into crackles and pops of the fire.

“Qui-Gon!” He practically cried, “I need help!” He was the Chosen One, he’d been reminding himself of that all year and he shouldn’t need help. Here, however, he felt helpless, scared, and alone.

And Professor Fisto had just said that everyone needed help sometimes.

“What’s wrong?” The lecture likely on the tip of the Professor’s tongue disappeared instantly and concern took its place.

“It’s my mum! She’s-” He suddenly felt like he couldn’t speak, tears welling up in his eyes and threatening to pour over. He tried to hold them back not wanting to accidentally extinguish the fire, but it was hard. He hadn’t really even acknowledged the truth in the situation and trying to say it out loud felt horrible, “She’s-” He couldn’t say it, even needing Qui-Gon’s help, it was all too sudden.

“Hang on I’ll be right there!” Qui-Gon was already ripping the lid off the jar that held his own Floo powder.

“Go you must,” Anakin hadn’t even noticed Headmaster Yoda, who was standing just in the doorway, “Handle everything else, we will,” Anakin didn’t really care whether or not he’d interrupted something important.

Hogwarts could burn to the ground for all he cared. His mother was missing and that was the only thing he cared about.

***

Qui-Gon held onto the boy’s shoulder as he sobbed uncontrollably while the police, both magical and muggle swarmed the apartment. He’d called the auror’s first of course, but he couldn’t deny that Shmi’s disappearance could be because of muggle means.

The owner of the dirty pub had shrugged and said Shmi hadn’t shown up for her shifts for awhile, but it hadn’t yet caused him financial trouble so he hadn’t worried about it. Anakin had said some less than kind things to the man and Qui-Gon made a note to talk to him about it later, but he supposed it was hard to fault a twelve year old when his whole world had just gotten uprooted.

“Why,” The word was spoken so softly Qui-Gon thought for a moment he may have imagined it.

“Pardon?” He leaned down to be able to hear better.

“Why’d they take her away?” He managed to speak louder, though his voice wobbled and the threat of more tears was not far off, “She never did anything wrong, why her?”

Qui-Gon let out a long breath, that was not an easy question to answer. Not like such questions about where the boy would live. He would stay with Qui-Gon of course. And as for what they should do next, it was a waiting game unfortunately.

It was certainly not the time to mention his earlier suspicions. However, Qui-Gon never would have guessed that this ominous danger would befall Shmi, who was practically disconnected to the wizarding world in total.

“I’m not sure,” Qui-Gon admitted, he always found it was best not to lie, not at a time like this, “Sometimes bad things happen to good people-”

“It’s not FAIR!” Anakin stomped his foot on the ground.

“Life isn’t always as fair as it should be,” Qui-Gon knelt down so he could be at eye level with the boy.

“I want her,” He sniffed, tears already falling once more, “I want my mum.”

“I know, I know,” Qui-Gon said solemnly, “But I’ll promise you this,” Anakin looked up through the droplets on his lashes to meet Qui-Gon’s steady stare, “I’ll do everything I can to help find her, ok?” It was a weighty promise, but one that Qui-Gon was willing to make. He didn’t want anything bad to happen to Shmi and he certainly wanted her found for Anakin’s sake.

Anakin managed to give him a nod even as he cried harder at the thought and Qui-Gon pulled him into a hug so he could have a shoulder to cry on, quite literally. No longer looking into the face of a child he felt his face fall into a dejected frown. What was the point of all this? Was it the prophecy? Was it simply an act of villainy? All concerns for his own safety at the hands of the missing necklace went out the window. Anakin’s safety was really his only concern. He had the Chosen One, a young boy, in his care and he would do everything necessary to keep him safe.

***

Despite the bustling holiday cheer that warmed the walls and everything between at Professor Qui-Gon Jinn’s humble abode, Obi-Wan found himself occupying the kitchen more often than not. He knew from experience and constant nagging from his mother that hosting was a complicated and exhausting duty and grew up shouldering part of that burden in order to keep up critical appearances. Of course, the parties his family hosted were nothing like this.

It was more than just the homemade decorations and the physical vibrancy of the room. Yes, the many streams of garland and tapestry were lovely. The lighting was soft, but colorful as it had been donned with twinkling Christmas lights and scented candles that were transfixed to never burn out. Stockings lined the mantle of the fireplace, which was situated right beside a beautiful Christmas tree.

Even from here, he admired Anakin’s work on the tree. He wondered if it was how his mother had done it every year. Judging by how methodical the whole process had been, he would assume so.

It all felt like home in a way his house never did.

The smiles, for one thing, never met their eyes at his parents’ famous shin-digs and there certainly weren’t quite as many children. The only other person his age was usually Asajj Ventress, who was far from his first choice in company. Buoyant holiday music didn’t play from an enchanted piano nor were the eating arrangements as casual as simply helping yourself. His house was usually filled with an eerie classical music that his mother worshipped and had nothing short of a five course meal consisting of exotic foods he’d never heard of.

He couldn’t cook to save his life, but knew many efficient spells at assisting the task. Qui-Gon had it partially covered, of course, because all of the appliances were working at full and seamless speed without an error along the way. Obi-Wan would hastily run stuff out, ensure that everyone was still having a grand time, and then disappear again to continue helping.

It was important for this Christmas to go well. Anakin had just lost his mother and was rightfully very maudlin as of late. Qui-Gon had taken him in and sought to give him a good home, which was wonderful. It was truly fantastic. Obi-Wan, himself, hadn’t seen much of his former mentor at all this term, let alone this evening, but it was more than understandable. He was included just enough to be invited early for his annual Christmas party to help setup.

It was a good idea for Qui-Gon to throw together the last minute-affair and wise all the same to be able to skirt around Headmaster Yoda’s rules in such a way. It didn’t seem most of the professors minded much or maybe they also terribly needed a distraction from current events, because many were in attendance. Of course, the stiffer ones, like Professor Windu, had opted to skip.

It was also a decent distraction from how horribly his Winter Holiday had been going, not that it was anything new. He wasn’t much for lying and knew the repercussions of getting caught, but he’d told his parents he was meeting with Ventress for the evening. They were absolutely ecstatic to hear that and sent him on his way with flowers and all. Technically, Ventress was at the party, so any scrutiny could simply be met with that.

He’d awkwardly given the flowers to Anakin instead, who’d rightfully responded with a weird look.

His parents had been especially cross with him lately when they discovered he was taking the advanced class of Defense Against the Dark Arts against their wishes. They’d nearly elected to lock him in his room for the remainder of break when it came out. Luckily, he was able to save some face by mentioning seeing Ventress at some point.

His family was also surprisingly concerned over Anakin’s home situation as of now. They expressed great distaste for his mother being so cavalier in her choice of guardian for him. Apparently, Obi-Wan’s mother had gone to school with Shmi and felt she was gullible to fall for a silver-tongued cad in the muggle world. They claimed she should have been more careful with the boy, since he was precious beyond measurable worth. It was interesting that Obi-Wan’s alignment with Anakin, which was initially viewed as a foolish errand, was now being heralded by his parents and grandparents.

He released a heavy sigh and picked up another plate.

As he exited the kitchen to bring out another serving of deviled eggs, he took in the sight of the party. Joy and laughter filled the air much to Obi-Wan’s relief. Even Anakin seemed as though he was having a good time. He’d found a good friend in Padmé Amidala and knew it was wise of Qui-Gon to see that she was invited.

The Fett’s were all rough-housing in the living room, displaying some wrestling moves they’d recently learned over break. It was their newest and most recent obsession. He did note that Rex kept glancing towards Anakin every now and then. While Anakin certainly had larger issues at hand, it was apparent that the boys, who no longer seemed to be outwardly fighting, were still not quite on the same level that they once were.

Anakin was practicing catching gumdrops in his mouth, which was likely an ill-advised attempt to impress Padmé in some way. She seemed partially invested and partially concerned he would choke, which was the right amount of attention for the boy.

Professor Plo Koon slow-danced with an inebriated Professor Shaak Ti, who was being photographed by Professor Yaddle, likely for a later laugh or a reminder of the events of the evening. Professor Depa Billaba was chatting with Caleb Dume, but he seemed to be distracted by the gentle snowfall from outside.

All was well.

In his search, he caught Satine’s passing stare. She was currently perched on the couch with a mug of warm butterbeer in her hands and was chatting with Bail Organa and Fenn Rau. Her hair was down in flowing waves that cascaded down to her shoulders. She was trying to grow out her bangs and had them clipped back with a little green barrette that matched the long sleeve dress she wore. Her eyes were warm with mirth and inviting for him to come over. Despite the bubble that seemed to grow in his chest, threatening to pop, his feet remained still. He simply nodded at her with what he hoped was a friendly smile and turned to go back to work.

He was just about to wonder where Qui-Gon had disappeared off to when a large hand was splayed firmly on his shoulder.

“What are you doing?” Qui-Gon’s deep voice asked.

He was startled, even if he had no real reason to be. It wasn’t as though he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar or anything.

“I’m setting out the food.”

“You’ve been doing that all night.” He said. “You’re working like a servant except nobody asked you to do so.”

“You know how important it is that this party goes well, Professor.” Obi-Wan said and nodded over to Anakin.

“As a matter of fact, I do, actually. I’d say he’s having a nice time too.” Qui-Gon said sagely. “Doesn’t explain why you would think spending your entire night in the kitchen is going to improve his spirits.”

Obi-Wan bit his tongue from remarking how this was the first real conversation they’d had in weeks and that somehow it was layered in criticism. Obi-Wan was used to appraisal and scathing speeches of failure and the tightening noose of expectation, but not from his former mentor.

“Like you said, he’s enjoying himself. That’s what matters.” He said shortly.

“I’d like you to enjoy yourself too every now and then, you know.” Qui-Gon leaned against the counter, but Obi-Wan still had to crane his head to look the larger man in the eyes. “So, what is it you’re actually avoiding?”

Obi-Wan straightened. “I’m not avoiding anything! I’m just-”

“-Distracting yourself from what’s bothering you. I know it when I see it, Obi-Wan. You’ve been one of my pupils for six years now and despite how you may try, even you have tells.” He smirked, “Every time you come out of the kitchen, you do a perimeter scan of the room. Some may take it as a neurotic need for everyone to be safe and accounted for, but I know better.”

“You don’t exactly become Head of Ravenclaw House without knowing better.” Obi-Wan said, though his mind briefly sifted back to the previous Head of Ravenclaw and debated that statement.

“Good, so hear me when I say that you need to live your life.”

He furrowed his brow. “What does that mean?”

“I’ve watched you leap through hoop after hoop to please everyone, Obi-Wan and it simply cannot be done. You’re even doing it tonight! The sooner you make your peace with that, the happier you’ll be.”

Obi-Wan inspected the long-haired professor to see if he’d perhaps engaged in too much eggnog this evening.

“I know I can’t please everyone.” He said sharply but maintained his tone so as not to disturb the other guests. “I’ve learned that the hard way, thank you.”

Qui-Gon’s eyes softened. “I never meant to insinuate that it was easy. I know I’ve been busy with Anakin recently and it would be normal for you to feel neglected-”

“-I don’t.” Obi-Wan lied and perhaps the swiftness of his response made that more obvious. He wondered if it really counted as a lie if he didn’t want it to be true. He felt selfish and guilty for feeling the inklings of that. Anakin’s mother was missing! He had no reason to feel like he was the one going through the hard time right now simply because he wasn’t receiving as much attention as before. What bothered him more, was that he somehow made this transparent enough to be seen. He desperately hoped Anakin didn’t notice.

Qui-Gon nodded. “Look at Hondo.”

“I’d really rather not.”

“Humor me, please.” He sighed and Obi-Wan obeyed.

Hondo Ohnaka was planted firmly beneath the mistletoe as he had been all night. He called over to just about every living and breathing body at the party to come over and share “the Christmas cheer” with him. Even his bright and sparkly sweater implored people to “meet him at the naughty list”, which blended in with the many counts of jewelry that always draped around his neck and wrists. Some of it, Obi-Wan had to admit, looked quite expensive.

As far as Obi-Wan had seen, Hondo hadn’t had any takers. He could try to have more tact in his approach. Simply going for every single person at the party just didn’t feel in line with the spirit of the holiday. He kept glancing around, looking quite intently at him and Qui-Gon for a long moment before turning rather suddenly to face the other way.  

“Hey, baby! I’ve got something sweet for you to taste… And some cookies!” He laughed as he held up a plate of Christmas cookies to Stass Allie as she passed by without giving him any thought.

“I think he needs to call it quits.” Obi-Wan mused.

“Hondo is eccentric and uninhibited… He needs to brush up on his manners and probably shower a bit more… Also, I’m fairly certain he was the one who stole Headmaster Yoda’s quill set.”

“What’s your point?” Obi-Wan asked.

“Hondo lives his life shamelessly. He is who he is. When he sees something he wants, he does everything in his power to make it happen. His execution probably needs a little refinement, but the point is, he takes chances and he’s happier for it.”

“Yeah and he’s doing so well tonight.”

“Maybe not.” Qui-Gon said. “But you can’t win the games you refuse to play.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes seemed to naturally return to Satine, who was now quite heatedly making some point with Tarkin and was being backed by Fenn Rau on some injustice. He doubted she needed the help by how she was reaming into Tarkin. However, Rau seemed eager to assist, much to Obi-Wan’s chagrin.

Even with the knowledge that Satine supposedly wasn’t interested, it still bugged him to some end.

He cleared his throat and turned back to his amused Professor. “That’s why I’m taking DADA this year again. I want to be an auror.”

“And you’ll make a mighty fine one. You came to that conclusion all on your own, eh?”

He hadn’t and they both knew it. There was no use denying it.

“I… Had some help.” Obi-Wan said.

Qui-Gon smiled and looked out at the party. “So, what are you going to do about that?”

“I’m going to be an auror.” He said with renewed strength.

He tapped the watch on Obi-Wan’s wrist, “I’m talking about tonight.”

He felt his cheeks go red and was irritated when Qui-Gon tilted back his head and laughed so loud that the entire room was drawn to their conversation Eventually, when it subsided, they all turned back to their respective conversations.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about! We’re friends!” He hissed.

“She’s not going to wait around forever, my young apprentice. Even if she isn’t sure she’s waiting. Take it from an old fool who knows what it’s like to miss out.”

And with that, he left a very bashful and embarrassed Obi-Wan to his own thoughts again. Hondo tried to call Obi-Wan over, but it was easy to ignore as he was trying desperately to sink into the floor and away from everyone else. He couldn’t believe Qui-Gon thought his friendship with Satine was the equivalent of Hondo trying to kiss practically every person in the room.

They were friends. That was all. He didn’t understand why that had to make their relationship less meaningful.

So, occasionally he felt a little light-headed when she touched his arm or laughed at his jokes. Maybe his gaze lingered on her when she stretched or crinkled her brow in contemplation while they studied together. Sometimes, his hands grew sweaty if hers accidentally brushed against his while they walked. She always smelled wonderful, but he’d only noticed because they were always together!

And just because they were always sitting together or took the same classes and always worked together on projects, did not mean there was anything else going on.

Yes, he trusted her with his life and would surely give his for her in a heartbeat. He might have been slightly miffed whenever Fenn Rau or Tarkin or any of the other boys commented that she was beautiful. She was beautiful, but anyone with eyes could objectively make that conclusion.

And that she was charming and self-reliant. She was utterly brilliant with a wit that crushed his into dust. She was above all else caring to the extent of wishing no harm even to her enemies and wanted peace before anything. She was stubborn and defiant, but also incredibly altruistic and fair. Her humor was the exact same as his and was never afraid to go for the jugular.

Of course he cared for her and noticed how she ran her hands through her hair when she was nervous or how she bit her bottom lip when she was confused. It wasn’t like he fixated on such things… All the time.

He’d be a liar to say there wasn’t tension, but a great deal of that had to do with how often they disagreed! He was getting riled up just thinking of how different his conversation would have been with Qui-Gon if Satine had been there with her disapproval of his family’s ways.

Yet he missed her when she wasn’t around. Her honesty was so rooted in a deep sense of caring that he couldn’t entirely fault her for it. She would never steer him wrong and wanted what was best for him. He knew that in his bones even when they wanted to pounce on each other.

She knew him through and through and cared for him even if he came from a family that would despise her if they knew just how important she was to Obi-Wan.

And, if he was honest, he looked for her at every Quidditch match, every meeting, every get-together, because…

She was his best friend!

Just that.

***

Satine blew softly to ease the steam that permeated from the mug in her hands. She’d unexpectedly traded her butterbeer for hot chocolate when Fenn Rau slid the mug in her hands after she mentioned she wasn’t a big butterbeer fan. The little gingerbread man shaped marshmallows that floated on the surface were enchanted to dance until they melted away into frothy foam.

“You do have an eye for detail.” She commented as she watched one of them disappear into nothing. To Satine’s chagrin, when she looked back up to Fenn, he was standing much closer than he had before. He must have been participating in the ugly sweater contest, because the little cotton balls that were supposed to be snowballs on his blue and red sweater were atrocious.

It had become impossible to ignore the cold truth that was Fenn Rau’s sudden romantic interest in her. In the beginning, she thought he was just looking for a new friend or someone to show him around as a prefect, but then he started to appear everywhere and seemingly intent on impressing her in every way possible. She could have sworn he had recently gotten more competitive with Obi-Wan, which just felt plain silly at the core.

Especially since he basically tried to pawn Satine off to Rau- a reality that she tried not to groan at- the moment he had the opportunity to do so.

She didn’t love having Aayla and Stass’s incessant “I told you so” voices ringing in her ears on repeat, but pretending to be ignorant now was doing far more harm than good. For instance, she didn’t want Rau to be under the impression that she was leading him on. That was something Satine did not want to do.

“I notice everything,” Fenn said with a smile and took another step closer. Soon, if he kept moving as he was, that wouldn’t be possible anymore, and Satine really didn’t want to consider what possibilities lurked after that.

Clearly, not everything.

“Is that so?” She asked innocently, though she had a lurking suspicion that she wasn’t going to be too fond of where this conversation was going.

“Yes,” He nodded and shifted in his stance, clearly trying to keep his cool and appear taller than he was, “Like… How you always carry your books in the order of when you have class or how you aren’t fond of your food touching or how you never wear your hair the same way two days in a row.”

That last one sounded made up to Satine, if only because it was unintentional, but it seemed Fenn couldn’t be stopped even though she desperately wanted him to. In her opinion, this wasn’t the time for this sort of confession. Cody was glancing at her from the piano as though silently asking her if she needed help. Aayla and Stass, who were giggling amongst themselves by the staircase, clearly could also tell what was going on.

“Or how you absolutely despise morning rounds,” Fenn kept going, “Or… Or how there’s no one presently standing under the mistletoe and I couldn’t help but notice that you can’t seem to stop glancing in that direction.”

The last bit came out frantically, like he’d been so nervous that he forgot how to properly speak and breathe at the same time. Because of this, it took a beat for Satine to comprehend what he was insinuating, until it finally felt like a bubble popped between them.

Well, there was no more denying it after that jumbled suggestion.

“Oh! Um, with you?” She glanced back in the direction towards the mistletoe and it seemed Hondo had taken a bathroom break, because it was presently a vacant spot. Had Rau known her like he believed he did, he would have realized that she wasn’t deviating towards the mistletoe, but the array of dishes that lay beyond it and more importantly, who set out those dishes at a dizzying pace and seemed to refuse engaging with the masses.  

She’d taken too long to answer, because quickly, Fenn shook his head aggressively, “Not that you have to go under there with me… I mean, it would be nice, but you don’t have to. I haven’t been- It’s not like I’ve been thinking about it all night. It just came to me, as an idea, maybe. If you wanted- I’ve been told I’m a decent snogger. Not that I’ve snogged a lot of girls. Or boys! I’ve never actually snogged a boy, but if I had, I’m sure they would say I’m-”

“-No, no, I’m sure you are decent!” Satine waved her hands out in front of her as though trying to physically stop him from the painful stilted tangent he was trying to constantly start and stop, “But it wouldn’t be right as I would never want to give you the wrong impression.”

“And what would that be?”

Did all boys require such deliberate specifications? Or just the ones in her life?

She sighed, “You’re brilliant, you really are, and I’m sure there’s a girl out there for you, but unfortunately, I don’t believe she’s me.”

Smooth, clean, and to the point. For someone who had spent the better part of this term denying that Rau had these sorts of feelings for her, she sure was relieved to have cleared the air. It was what was best for the both of them.

He blinked, “Is it someone else?”

“I’m sure.” She said kindly, “Frankly, there are lots of girls who-”

“-No, I mean, do you fancy someone else?” He corrected.

“Well,” She had to tamper down the indignant side of her that wanted to explain that there didn’t need to be anyone else for her not to return his affections, but she was momentarily distracted by Obi-Wan walking from the kitchen with far too many plates balanced in his hands. They wobbled back and forth in tandem with how he moved before meeting an unseemly and cacophonous end as they shattered against the hardwood floor.

Fenn, like everyone else, turned towards the commotion, but looked back at her with a sort of sad understanding that she hadn’t noticed at first, seeing as she was a bit caught up in how quickly Obi-Wan had whipped out his wand and gathered all the missing pieces and reassembled the plates.

“I see,” He cleared his throat and she gave him a curious look after Obi-Wan disappeared into the kitchen.

“I’m sorry?” She frowned.

“It’s alright,” He said, “I won’t stand in the way.”

“What are you-”

“-I think it’s a little less insulting to not further deny it.” He said tartly, but not completely absent of compassion, “He’s a lucky bloke, even if he doesn’t know it yet.”

Satine had to swallow the rising bitterness that was definitely her pride for being seen so thoroughly, “Truly an eye for detail.”

He quirked a small smile at that, “I don’t know if it takes an eagle eye to notice that.”

“Still,” She shrugged weakly, “I’m sorry.”

He raised a hand, “You’ve nothing to apologize for. Trust me when I say I hope it works out for you two. Though if you ever change your mind…”

“You’ll be someone’s first choice someday, Fenn.” She gave his hand a squeeze, “I’m sure of it.”

Despite it not working out how Fenn Rau thought, Satine couldn’t help but internally thank him for what transpired. She learned that maybe, she needed to take more risks.

***

One thing about being a wizard was that it wasn’t completely necessary to learn musical instruments, much to Anakin’s amusement. Some people still did, as Qui-Gon demonstrated for everyone, but others just merely enchanted the piano to play whatever they pleased.

His mum would quite enjoy that. She always loved classical Christmas music.

As another wave of sadness rose through his senses and nearly gave way of seeping out of every pore, he stamped it down in determination not to cry in front of everyone at the party. It was bad enough that it felt like every person that came up to him was trying to perform some sort of circus act to distract him, but he didn’t want to deal with the explanation.

It was a party and while he felt like the center of it, it was designed to be fun for everyone. It wouldn’t bring his mum back to him, but the thought had to count for something. Padmé had been sweet enough to check on him a good bit, especially when she could have been spending time with her friends or with Satine, who looked like she’d rather be anywhere but with Fenn Rau.

Anakin might have been more excited about it a mere two weeks ago, but despite the beautiful colors, everything seemed to be painted in gray.

Even Hondo seemed to lack some of his luster when he returned from the loo, wearing a stern sort of melancholy that reminded Anakin of Watto when he suffered severe indigestion after an awful meal. Anakin had at least been expecting him to try and pawn off some more merchandise opportunities on him, but it seemed even he got the holiday blues every now and then.

“Not making enough sales this year?” Anakin couldn’t help but ask, because really, if anyone had the right to be upset this Christmas, it was him.

Hondo, as if realizing he was still at the party at all, shook his head, “Oh, er- never! Hondo knows how to push his product beyond anything. I assure you, you will see that 15% very soon and it will be chunky!”

Anakin narrowed his eyes, “My mum just went missing and you’re trying to slate me 5% of my profits?”

It wasn’t about the money, but it was worth mentioning.

Hondo’s big brown eyes widened beneath his goggles, which were beyond unnecessary in their current setting, even if it did snow an ample amount the night before. “Did I say 15%? I meant 20%! Silly me! I forgot to mention your holiday bonus.”

“It’s not like I’ll be able to spend that money on anyone.” He sighed and crossed his arms, “I was going to get my mum a new history book so she could catch up on everything she missed in the wizarding world. Word on the street is I’m actually in it.”

“I’m sure you are! What were they paying you?” Hondo asked and he was seeming a bit more like himself by the moment.

“Not everything is about galleons, you know.” Anakin said pointedly.

“That is what the rich people want you to think, Skywalker.” Hondo showcased the array of shiny necklaces that strung around his neck and jangled the bracelets on either wrist, “Do you know what makes these priceless?”

Anakin frowned, “They’re pretty ugly, which I suppose rich people tend to think gives it charm.”

“Exactly,” He smacked him on the back, “But I was going to say that they’re all stolen. Surely, you know that a pirate’s stolen treasure gives it a great deal more oomf. Nobody can resist that sort of quest. Stolen goods are absolutely the most valuable trinkets on the market.”

“That’s what my mother essentially is to her kidnapper.”

“Then you need to steal her back.” Hondo winked.

Anakin stood taller at that and looked over to Qui-Gon as Hondo did the same, seeming to have the same thought in his eyes (though Hondo might have been planning on lifting some of the expensive china that Obi-Wan had just dropped everywhere).

He was going to get her back. No matter what it took.

***

“You need to talk to him.” Cody said as he crossed his arms and looked at a rather shy and sullen Rex.

“I’m not sure how.” He said quietly, “I’ve been trying to wrap my head around all of this and I can’t figure out what would even be the proper thing to say.”

“Sometimes, it’s not saying anything at all.” Cody said.

“Was that supposed to be deep?” Fives complained, “You’re not exactly a philosopher, I’m sorry to say.”

“Yeah, don’t quit your day job.” Echo shook his head, “Just tell him you’re there for him, Rexy.”

“But I haven’t been.” Rex said.

“Yeah, and no one else is right now either.” Cody referred to Anakin’s “friends” who had been spending the whole term surrounding him like the leeches that they were. Now that the kid was dangerous to be around again, they weren’t nearly as keen on spending one-on-one time with him anymore. Ferus, Jax, and Tru all had their backs pointedly turned to the boy by the concessions table, literally boxing him out.

“I know.” Rex frowned, “I said some pretty awful things. And so did he.”

“And are you still mad at him?” Fives asked.

“No! I just… I don’t know. I don’t want to make him feel any worse than he likely already does.” Rex said, “I just want him to feel better.”

“I understand.” Cody said with a firm nod, “Remember the winter that mum left? What we did to get all of our aggression and sadness out in a good, healthy way that also exhausted us into the best sleeps we ever had?”

“Don’t say Quidditch right now, Cody.” Echo groaned.

“Shut it, I’m talking about-”

“-SNOWBALL FIGHT!” Rex shouted.

***

As everyone else tugged on their coats and jumpers to protect themselves from the blistering cold and to better support themselves in the brawl that would surely ensue on Qui-Gon’s vast snow-covered lawn, Hondo lingered behind, nodding at a passing Ventress before looking towards the dining room, where Qui-Gon Jinn sat.

Alone in the shadows, this command shall ring,

An undeniable voice will repeatedly sing.

With this necklace you will slay,

The protector who lies in the way.

Unless completed, the task will burn,

Or removed for another person’s turn.

It should have frightened him that it felt like a swan song, but it danced through his ears with the allure of a temptress guiding him under the sheets, swimming in them, bathing in golden glory. His mind’s eye was eclipsed and he knew no other than the clarity that was brought before him without a moment’s notice.

A smile stretched across his face as he envisioned succeeding in destroying his prey, in pleasing his master. Doing so would rid these chains from around his neck, would give him freedom. He would be a hero of the new age and paid handsomely.

The witch’s voice whispered seductively in his ear.

“Now’s the time… Do it.”

He couldn’t think of anything he wanted more or before this moment, except snuffing the light out of the putrid Muggle Studies professor. It would not bring about freedom to his people, but it would be a start. He had waited so long, missed so many opportunities. Every time it felt he nearly had his hands around the large professor’s neck, the spell was gone.

But not tonight.

Tonight he would-

He blinked awake when Kit Fisto emerged through the back door with a large cake in his hands.

“I don’t suppose you could show me a thing or two about muggle weapons, Qui-Gon? I was always curious if there were some properties that could resist magic.” The charming DADA professor grinned.

Hondo rubbed his eyes. He really didn’t know what was going on with him lately. It was as though he was blacking out while standing on his own two feet. Afterwards, he felt as though he was locked inside a dark room without any light. Or worse, a piggy bank without any galleons.

Qui-Gon smiled at him from his place at the kitchen table. “Everything alright, Hondo?”

He stammered, “Uh, yes! My apologies, just tired is all.”

Or so he hoped.

***

Anakin thought that regular snowball fights were fun, but with magic, anything was possible. The Fett’s had constructed a catapult of sorts, clearly experienced in their endeavors of war, and developed an entire war-based strategy on snuffing out the enemy. Anakin was surprised when Cody had dragged him over to their base, seeing as he’d been such a jerk to Rex. However, he was glad for it, because Ferus and Jax made it incredibly clear by their sudden shunning of him that he was not to be a part of their squad.

He would be more peeved by their sudden change in tune if he already didn’t have larger worries at hand. He almost didn’t agree to playing in the snow right now, but Cody had been so insistent that he couldn’t deny, which was a point that Obi-Wan had made when even he took a break from playing maid and pulled on his winter coat and gloves. Anakin knew at that point that there was no going back.

The fluffy snow that pillowed across the rolling landscape of Qui-Gon’s homestead was something found in Christmas cards, topped off with the soft beacon of light that the rainbow strings of lights around his house offered. Snowflakes still trickled around them, albeit at a slower and more manageable pace, decorating their hair and hats with a sparkling white texture.

The cold air was rejuvenating as it was sobering and Anakin felt for the first time all week like it was possible to romanticize anything ever again.

Well, until a ball of snow hit him right in the face.

“Skywalker, you can’t just leave yourself exposed like that!” Cody hollered at him.

“Yeah, you’re wide open to the enemy!” Fives added.

Anakin shook his head, blond bangs now damp with ice, and crouched down beside the boys as they planned their onslaught. “Who threw it?”

“That coward, Olin.” Rex, who’d materialized beside him, pounded and shaped an ice ball in his hands and extended it out to Anakin. Anakin looked at him curiously. Why would Rex want to help him get even with the people that Anakin had quite literally ditched him for all term? Maybe he hadn’t meant to, but that was certainly how it played out.

“Rex, I’m-” He began, but Rex more insistently put the snowball in Anakin’s hand.

“-Don’t mention it, mate.” He said with a coy smile, “Let’s go kick some arse.”

Anakin swallowed the ball of emotion that once again rose in his throat- an easy thing to do when Cody shouted “CHARGE” and they all went sprinting forward. He and Rex remained back-to-back, through it all, never once abandoning the other.

He knew for sure now what made for a true friend.

***

Obi-Wan managed to force himself into the festivities, despite Qui-Gon’s words biting at him. They’d all engaged in a big snowball fight in the backyard, spearheaded by Cody and Anakin. It ended up being a competition divided by houses, but Satine still managed to get Obi-Wan in the face with a ball of ice.

She’d claimed it was an accident, but laughed when he retaliated in kind.

Hondo continued his excursions under the mistletoe with consistently negative results. It was for the best, in a way, because none of the couples felt the desire to show off and put themselves under the mistletoe if Hondo was there.

Eventually, like all good times, the party had to end and he found himself feeling a little lighter afterwards. His parents didn’t expect him back until morning, which meant he had at least the remainder of the evening to retain levity before it was back to studies and silence.

Anakin had tuckered himself out and fell asleep in front of the fireplace not too long after everyone began to depart. The Fett’s offered to stick around and help, but Qui-Gon dismissed them as Obi-Wan and Satine already had a good handle on most of it.

He picked the unconscious Anakin off the floor like he was a bag of grapes and smiled at Obi-Wan and Satine.

“Thank you two for sticking around and helping.” He said in a hushed tone.

“Of course. ‘Can’t let Ben get all the credit.” She smirked, but her eyes were bright and merry. Obi-Wan realized how close they’d been standing and carefully leaned back to grab another dirty dish to put in the sink.

“If you don’t mind, I’m going to put this one to bed. He’s had a long day.”

More like a long year, but neither teenager commented on it.

After he ascended up the stairs, Satine sighed, “He sure knows how to throw a good time, doesn’t he?”

“Yeah,” Obi-Wan said lightly. “He does.”

“I noticed you were gone for most of it.” She said carefully.

“Qui-Gon did too.” He muttered.

“Is everything alright?” She knew it wasn’t, of course, but he guessed she was asking to see if anything else had managed to go wrong in the past 24 hours. “You haven’t written all break.”

“My parents found out that I’m pursuing DADA this year. I think they’ve connected the dots about my hopes of becoming an auror.”

She frowned. “You hadn’t told them.”

He shook his head and turned away, busying himself with washing a plate. He knew the spell for that but preferred to have something to do with his hands. Besides, he already knew the look that was blooming on her face without seeing it. She likely already had her hands on her hips and steel in her eyes.

“Well, you had to know they’d find out eventually.” She said. “When the grades for the semester came back.”

“Yes, well, it went about as I’d expected. They’re quite cross with me.”

Where he expected a rant of “I told you so” or something else that he really didn’t need to hear, Satine once again, managed to surprise him. She placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“Is that what you and Qui-Gon were talking about?”

“Kind of.” He was glad he wasn’t facing her so she couldn’t see how red his cheeks had gotten. “He’s been a little busy as of late. Expectedly so. I mean, Anakin is young and requires guidance. Now that this chosen one stuff is going around, everyone’s apparently going to be gunning for the boy… Plus, I’m practically done at Hogwarts. Just over a year and-”

“-He’s not replacing you.” She cut in.

Silence. All Obi-Wan could hear was the ticking of the clock as it echoed through the old house. He stilled his movements and turned to find she was standing very close to him. So close that if he just leaned forward a tiny bit…

“Ben, you know that, right?” Satine was firm in her position and did not want to let the topic drop. Nothing new about that.

He let his shoulders drop. “I’m not trying to say that he is. I don’t own him. He’s not my father and he doesn’t owe me anything. I have no business being hurt over that when there’s a child that requires care and he’s absolutely the right person for it.”

“You know that from experience.” She said in a quiet voice.

“Yeah,” He nodded. “I do.”

“Well,” She moved the plate from Obi-Wan’s hands and set it on the counter. “You need care too sometimes.”

“Have you two been conspiring this evening?” He questioned. “Because that’s what he was saying.”

“No, but I’ve known you for the better part of six years and would like to think that I have at least become a little well-versed in your mannerisms. We care about you.”

He wondered if this meant she saw what Qui-Gon had apparently taken notice of when it came to how he acted around Satine… How she was the same as pursuing being an auror somehow.

“I know.” He smiled. “I care about you too… Both of you.”

Standing in the ambient low-lighting of the dining room, only illuminated by the last vestiges of Christmas lighting, he could still make out every detail of her lovely face. Her eyes had drifted above them in confusion and eventual bashfulness and he followed her gaze to see a small sprig of mistletoe precariously hanging where it hadn’t been before.

“I thought… I thought it was near the closet.” He said, but when he looked past Satine to where Hondo had been standing all evening, there was no longer any mistletoe.

It glittered with the remnants of enchantment and seemed to grow from the very ceiling. While he knew someone was definitely behind this, he didn’t have the presence of thought to think of anyone in particular.

Instead he looked quickly back to Satine, who was staring at him in a curious way. Her eyes were practically sparkling and seemed to rove over his entire face, settling ever so briefly on his mouth. He hadn’t missed it though, because he’d done the same thing.

“Hondo didn’t have much luck with that this evening.” She said gently.

“No,” He chuckled. “I don’t suppose he did. He’d certainly paid his dues. I wonder if he rigged it with a love potion of sorts.”

She smiled softly and he couldn’t bring himself to steer his eyes away from hers, like they were locked in a trance.

“I don’t think he did.” She said. He’d argue he was spellbound, if that didn’t sound so absurd, but he wasn’t sure which one of them moved first as it felt more like gravitational pull that they were both leaning into. His heart was in his throat and every thought that troubled him so deeply the entire evening washed away in a single second’s time. He’d closed his eyes, completely wrapped in warmth as their noses brushed together.

Just as he felt her soft breath hitch against his, a loud clang from up the stairs jolted them apart. As soon as the moment started, it had been shattered and both were the color of rubies.

“Anakin?” Obi-Wan called.

“Just… Uh, just brushing my teeth. Dental hygiene.” The small boy called and the patter of hasty footsteps followed before the bathroom door closed.

Oh, how he wanted to melt away right there.

Satine cleared her throat, avoiding his gaze. “Yes, well, I should get going.”

“I’ll walk you out.” He said, also unable to look her in the eyes for fear of what he’d find.

“No, no that’s alright. I’m just using a portkey anyway.” She shrugged and then began to walk away. However, he thought she might have forgotten something, as she paused for a long moment at the door, one hand on the knob. Then, faster than he could comprehend, she quickly turned around, marched over to him, leaned up and pressed a firm kiss on his cheek, just barely catching the corner of his mouth too.

He caught her flushed gaze for a second as she’d lingered a moment longer than anticipated, which was fine because he also felt like his brain had melted to his shoes.

“Happy Christmas, Ben.” She said before steering herself back towards the door.

He gently raised his hand to where she’d kissed him. “Happy Christmas, Satine.”

[keichan]

Paint Me This

Request: DUDE I LOVE YOUR BLOG SM CAN I REQUEST KAGEYAMA X READER?? Liek the reader loves to paint and becomes manager because she knows Yachi and they fall in love and kags tries to confess and fails like the bab he is 🥺🥺? Fluff please!

A/N: AHHH THANK YOU SM! This is my first request ever! I don’t think that this is as fluffy as I wanted it to come out but I still enjoyed writing it 🥺I hope you like it

Genre: fluffffff, pinch of angst

WC: 2262

★Kageyama x Reader ★

”Y/N! I’m so glad you were able to come!” Yachi grinned, beckoning you to meet the team. It was you and Yachi’s second year at Karasuno and you have yet to meet her volleyball team she manages, though now was a better time than ever. Your club that you have attended for the last year had unfortunately shut down due to lack of members, but luckily your best friend was able to save your ass, per usual. Not only is it your first time meeting these guys, but your first managing gig as well 

“Yachi-san, who’s this?” A small, orange haired boy peeked between two of the taller members of the team, his mouth agape. A taller boy with bluish-black hair nudged him to silence.

“This is my friend, Y/N! Since our goal is nationals again, she’s here to help us out this seaon! So be prepared to see her more!.”

“A new manager?” Two boys practically yelled in harmony with each other.

Yachi giggled before nodding in agreement. She quickly turned it over to you for your self introduction.

“My name is L/N F/N. I’m a second year. I’m in class 2-3. Uhhh- I really enjoy painting in the courtyard during lunch so you can always find me there.” You laugh nervously at all the sets of eyes staring at you.

“Nice to meet you!” You said abruptly before dipping your body into a bow. As you drew your head your line of vision met with the tall bluish, black-haired boy from earlier. That’s when it clicked in your mind.

“Kanayama! We’re in the same class aren’t we?”

He automatically stiffened before nodding his head jerkily. A pink hue barely painted his features.

A tall blonde behind him snorted.

“Are you even going to say anything?”

“It’s Kageyama!” He stuttered.

“I’m so sorry!” You laughed rubbing the back of your head. You gave him a warm smile before breaking off to individually meet everyone else. Not before long, practice began. 

Kageyama and Hinata silently peered over your shoulder in the courtyard to see what you were painting today. With your headphones in, you quietly hummed to the rhythm and your brush strokes followed. 

He usually passed you everyday to see what you were painting, but today was the day that Kageyama accidentally lost his footing leaning forward and toppled onto your picnic table, rather hard. You jumped in your seat as the tall setter awkwardly regained his posture. He sent a glare to Hinata who instantly scurried away.

Kageyama cleared his throat and brushed off his pants.

“Sorry, I- uh was tryna see what you were painting there and I uh”

You quickly set down your brush to wave your hands.

“Don’t worry about it Kageyama-kun! You can help me judge this peace if you wanna! Go ahead and take a seat.” You absentmindedly patted the bench beside you.

He stepped his long legs over the bench before firmly sitting next to you. You presented a small canvas in  front of his face and his mouth morphed into a small ‘o’. It was the scenery of the mountains behind Karasuno high. He saw it everyday on his way home. It was a beyond perfect painting.

“Beautiful.” Was all he could manage.

“Me or the painting?” 

He froze in place before you nudged his shoulder playfully. Your eyes traveled from the painting to his with a smile so wide, your eyes squinted shut. “I’m just kidding, Kageyama-kun! Thank you!” 

A small shadow appeared on the boy's lips.

“Of course.”

Now that he thought about it, he meant you.

A month later, it has now been integrated into your schedule that Kageyama sits next to you at lunch time bearing a carton of milk for himself and a canned coffee for you. Some days he chose to paint with you, though his paintings never came out as well as yours, you definitely acted like they did. He was definitely becoming a prodigy in your world  as you were learning his. Anything that you mentioned you like, he’d attempt to paint. Meanwhile, he was more than happy to explain volleyball to you. Sometimes you’d pretend to not understand, only to see how happy he becomes when he gets to talk about what he is passionate about. You adored the setter with all of your heart.

Today the two of you sat against the wall of the school, with a sketchbook in your hand you were jotting down new ideas for personal projects when you felt a weight gently press onto your shoulder followed by a faint snore. Kageyama had passed out, though it made sense with the boys overexerting themselves for the upcoming game. With a faint smile on your face, you slid your phone out of your pocket to take a quick picture of him. He was precious, though it was definitely a  potential blackmail photo. You closed your sketchbook and rested your head atop of his until the bell rang.

Months later and the boys volleyball team had become your family to the extent that it felt like you’ve known each member for years. You knew their quirks, their antics, what made them tick. Especially Kageyama. If anything you’ve been spending more time with him than Yachi. You always put in extra hours to help him practice and study.  One could not be seen without the other. 

Though for the last two weeks you haven’t been at your usual place on the courtyard. When   Kageyama asked, you told him that you had supplementary lessons, though it didn’t make sense to him due to the fact that you have never struggled academically as far as he knew.  In fact, if he ever needed a tutor, you were always there to help him.

Now he handed you your daily canned coffee in silence at the start of each after school practice. Anytime he’d attempt to talk to you, you’d shy away and stutter nervously. If you wanted to blatantly avoid Kageyama after all this time, he was just hoping that you’d be a little more direct. After a while , he finally gave up on showing up to the courtyard for lunchtime

The evening breeze was chilling to the bone as the cold front rolled in. It was now late December and Kageyama was zipping up his jacket to begin his walk home. At the edge of campus he heard his name being called.

“Kageyama-kun!”

He turned on his heel to the sound of your voice with his heart beating rapidly. 

He stood in place until you ran up to catch him. 

“Kageyama-kun!” You panted. “I have something that I need to give to you

The setter dug his hands in his pocket with a blank stare on his face. He tilted his head. “Y/N-san, we’re about to go into winter break, I’m sure this can wait until we get back.” 

However he felt the opposite.

You were already digging through your bag before the words finished pouring from his mouth. With both hands on a canvas you presented it to him with your head dipped.

“Happy early birthday, Kageyama-kun!”

He carefully took the canvas from you and gazed at it with awe. It was a painting of him setting the ball. You perfectly captured his features. The face he always makes concentrating. The details on his fingers, his hair, his nose. Everything. It looked lifelike.

He studied it for minutes in pure amazement. It was one of the kindest things anyone had done for him. The joy in his heart was overwhelming.

“I’m so sorry that I’ve been distant from you lately, Kageyama-kun. I wanted to do something really special for you, though, I’m not good with painting people so I’ve been going to the art teacher’s classroom for lunch. I’m awful with secrets and surprises, so I apologize for acting the way I have I-”

You were pulled into a hug. Long arms wrapped around your body as Kageyama’s head buried into your neck. His warm breath tickling your skin against the cold.

“Thank you.” He mumbled. “I love it. You're the best.”

The compliments sounded odd rolling off of his tongue, but you couldn’t help but smile.

“So I’m forgiven?” You pulled away from his embrace, a sly smile resting on your lips, your faces inches apart.

“Of course, Y/N-san.”

Luckily for Kageyama, mother nature was on his side or else his face would be beet red.

He walked you to your home with many questions in his mind. The main one being how can he make you his?

You were startled to see Kageyama waiting at the gates, you figured that he’d be at the gym in the early morning with the spring interhigh right around the corner.

“Good morning!” He said with a smile painted on his lips. Slightly unusual, but you couldn’t help but mirror his expression.

“What’s got you in a good mood?”

He glanced over to you with the corners of his lips upturned. “So there’s this girl that I really like-” Your heart automatically sank to the ground, but you kept an eager expression on your face.

“I really want to ask her to get dinner with me at this place in town this weekend before we all leave for Tokyo. I think she’s super pretty, she helps me out in a lot of ways…” She must be so lucky to catch his eye. After all, a lot of girls at the school fawned over Kageyama Tobio. The two of you halted at your classroom door before he turned to you.

“Y/N, I really like-”

The morning bell rang.

You rest your hands over his and give him a reassuring smile.

“I’m sure she’ll say yes.”

You quickly walk into the classroom, leaving the setter with his chest aching.

“So, how’d it go?” Yachi popped in front of you as you silently flipped through the pages of your manager notebook, practice for the evening was finally drawing to a close.

“What?”

“Didn’t Kageyama-kun ask you out? He texted me that he was going to do it after break?”

“WHAT?” You shouted making the entire gym come to a screeching halt. Balls quickly thudded to the floor. You quickly used your notebook to shield your face from everyone else.

“Are you saying he didn’t?” She whispered as if the whole gym’s eyes weren’t on the two of you. 

“C’mon guys! Keep it moving!” Enoshita called. You lowered the notebook slightly only for his eyes to meet with yours briefly. With a nervous look on his face he quickly hustled back to his position on the court.

“He was talking about some girl he liked today!” You yelled in a hush whisper.

Yachi gasped. “That’s you! He really did try! Well it was the best he knew how to. And I’d like to say it’s obvious that you two like each other. I’m pretty sure the whole school knows”

Heat rushed to your face and you did your best to hide how flustered you were. Your eyes followed Kageyama as he played with the team.

“I thought I did my best to hide it.”

“I think your three-week long painting project of him kind of gave it away.”

“Shut up.”

After cleaning up, you waited at the stairs of the clubroom for Kageyama. At the top of the stairwell he paused before walking down and carefully tapped your shoulder.

“Y/N, I-”

“Kageyama-kun!” You turned to smile at him, nerves eating you alive.

“I-I just wanted to apologize for earlier. That was out of character for me-” he looked off into the distance with his hand messily running through his hair. “Just don’t worry about what I said I-”

You swiftly walk towards him taking the collar of his team jacket nervously in your hands. You catch his gaze and his speech slowly comes to a halt. You gently pull him down to your face to place your lips softly on his. Kageyama’s lips move slowly against yours as his hands travel quickly along your sides to cup your face delicately. He pulled away with his lips lingering on top of yours, his eyes searching your features for an answer to his silent question.

“I like you, Kageyama-kun. I really really like you. Sorry I misread your confession earlier, I… I uh kinda thought it was for someone else...”

A sheepish smile appeared on his lips as he leaned in to capture your lips once more. Your arms traveled around his neck to gently move into his hair while his hands moved down to hold your hips.

“Well I’m glad that’s cleared up now. Also, just call me Tobio.”

Your eyes twinkled as you studied his face.

“Give me another kiss, Tobio-chan!” 

“Get a room you two!” Tsukishima’s voice cut the atmosphere like a knife. Yamaguchi snickered behind him.

“Shut the hell-”

You grabbed his sleeve and gave it a slight tug. He smiled down at you before giving Tsukishima a scowl. Interlacing your hands together he began to walk you home. You waved goodbye to the boys before using your free hand to wrap around his arm.

You swung your intertwined hands marvelling at Tobio under the streetlights. The walk so far has been quiet, but calming. Suddenly Kageyama came to a halt, pulling you by his side.

“Y/N… Would you uh. Um… Be my- err- be my- uh-”

“Yes, Tobio.”

You quickly gave him a peck on the cheek before walking ahead of him. 

He grinned from ear to ear.

“Wait up!” 

[stardew-imagines-me]

Hi!!!! Uhm, can I ask a short story, where the farmer (in your Highschool AU) was looked down on when they first arrived at the school, but soon climbed up the ranks with their academic ability and skills in other fields, which impressed the students and caught the attention of the Top 12?

I, uh... I got carried away ;”-) I just love the high school au so much

The first days of school were hell. They were always hell regardless if you were returning or transferring, but to transfer in the middle of the year? That's basically a death wish. You knew that, but what other choice did you really have? You had no home back in the city, your mother made that clear through tear filled apologizes and painfully tight hugs goodbye. You didn't have a home in Stardew Valley, this was just some place your grandfather gave to you in case you ran into trouble - it makes you suspicious sometimes about how good he prepared everything.

You can't blame either one of them though, it just had to be this way until it was safe enough to go back. But when that would be? You weren't quite sure, mom made it clear to not wait up though. Your new years would start here.

Start here... in the personal bathrooms once again. Another lunch spent hiding away from people who would only whisper to each other about your sudden appearance, your clothes, your family. The hot topic of the school for being the city kid outsider.

The rude remarks about your intelligence or  simple existence didn't bother you. Neither did the rough pushing in the halls, or the pitiful looks you'd receive. Even having no friends made a difference. You stayed quiet and calm despite the undeserved harassment, always focusing on your school work or eating your food with your head down. What would be the point in showing a reaction when you didn't feel anything?

There was only 5 things you liked since moving to Stardew Valley. The first was shopping; you could spend your whole day in the florists shop looking at all the different types of home grown flowers, or picking out new vegetable seeds to grow inside during the winter. You visited so often you were practically best friend's with the owner; an elderly man without a wife or kids. He soon became someone to vent to when a letter from your mom arrived.

The second would be the silence of the semi medium town. You could walk for hours in the woods and find that it was nearly silent always. Sometimes living on the outskirts of town was beneficial for your mental health.

The third had to have been sleeping. Now with no running children in the apartment above you, or your mom passed out on the only bed available, you were able to sleep for as long as you wanted without disturbance. That's practically your whole weekend, just sleeping the hours away until your body refused anymore.

The fourth, surprisingly, was the students. Not the normal ones, or the ones who pushed your head into the lockers whenever they felt like it, the ones who you had to observe from far away with everyone else because they were practically the royalty of your school.

Every single one of them had a different personality, had some sort of contribution to either a large organization, or came with talent unmatched by anyone. They were all so interesting, but one thing was you had never seen them all together.

You'd think, being some of the most exceptional students, they'd be together all the time - that wasn't the case though. You'd be lucky if you even saw three of them hanging out.

They were all so busy, so the possibility of them sparing a glance at someone the likes of you was.. small.

The last thing was the garden at school. That was something you would always admit you were a little too fond of.

Gardening was the only thing you had back in the city; your cups of bamboos and pots of orchids, the baby blooming orange tree that had finally grown it's first blossom since being potted or the mint you'd talk to whenever your mother was too busy at work.. she was always busy. To have the blank, nearly dead slate of the school garden was a gift from the cruel gods who put you in this situation to begin with.

Nevertheless, you signed up for the gardening club after your 2nd month at Stardew Dew High.

You understood when the three other gardening students were distraught by the death of their beautiful green sanctuary, you would've been too. You took it upon yourself to arrive at school extra early in order to turn the compost beds, pluck the monstrous amount of weeds from the dry soil and gather what seed was left in storage.

Late afternoons when you'd spend time talking to the acting president, Sei, she would share stories about the past gardening president and how he made Star Dew high into what attracted so much attention in the first place; private school gardeners were put to shame with his natural green thumb.

"It's kind of crazy, to think that we just started out in classroom with a few tiny pots of tulips. Without Boari, we wouldn't be here now," She smiled painfully towards the dug up flowerbeds, tapping her nails against the dirt path and resting against the greenhouse.

"Well, without the sponsorship from a few of the top 12, we wouldn't have any of this," she motioned to the large expansion of land the gardening club owned, "Bless Boari's soul for being so caring, he's the only person I've seen the top 12 so fascinated with,"

You nodded, arms propped up on your knees as you glanced at Sei every now and then.

"Amy and Kai? Bless those girls souls for trying so hard to keep everything running after Boari left. We all tried out best, but in the end it wasn't enough,"

That small conversation shouldn't have meant so much, but Sei had looked so sad, Kai and Amy always worked so hard. You knew they sacrificed a lot for this club, and even despite your sad reputation in the school, they never once put you down for just existing. They always offered their table when it was open, or encouraged you during classes you had with them - the least you could do was try to bring back whatever they had before.

And that's what you did.

Since that day, you spent your lunch time in the library studying for tests that were months away and finishing packets of homework that counted for the rest of the year. You spent every morning and afternoon planting, growing, watering, turning. You trimmed the mazes', you fixed the broken shelves in the shed and even took money from you own pocket to decorate the greenhouse.

You saw less of your garden mates, you hadn't been pushed in a good few weeks and your teachers praised you every chance they could when you turned in finished packet after packet. You had secluded yourself with good reason, and the lack of attention, negative or not, wasn't unwelcomed.

But there was one thing that left you scratching your head; the amount of letters, small gifts, sticky notes and even a pack of strawberry seeds had all fallen from your locker when you opened it one morning. To be fair though, you never used the damn thing, the lock was sticky.

As you watched the garden bloom almost impossibly fast, you noticed that no one touched you anymore, in fact, everyone offered bright smiles and shameful expressions. Odd.

-

"I want you to be the gardening president," Sei held out the green leaf hairpin towards you, proud grin stretching across her face while Amy and Kai stood to the side, clapping their hands and shouting excitedly.

"What..? Why?" Club hairpins were sacred, those were the absolute deciding factor on your reputation as a student. To be the president of an important club was to join the class royalty in some way.

But to you, it was just a leaf hairpin.

"You're like the plant whisperer! What do you mean why? You've literally regrown the garden single handedly, thrown yourself into being one of the top academic students in our school, and somehow stayed modest the whole time,"

"You mean oblivious, Sei," Kai teased, snickering behind her hand while Amy smacked her arm.

"Are you sure? I mean, I don't want to impose anything," Sei shook her head so hard you were scared she would knock herself unconscious.

"Without you, our dream wouldn't have stayed. Please, take the pin before my arms break off,"

-

And with the official announcement of the garden president change, and the garden fairy's arrival, you were classified as one of the elite.

Now students asked to sit with you at lunch, or begged to be in project groups with you - you even found yourself cornered by a few students who admitted they had always loved you and want to take you out on the weekend. That was a little extreme.

You couldn't care any less about the title though, sticking with eating lunch in the green house or staying silent during class. You had to be one of the most antisocial elites so far, and with Penny or Sebastian? That's kinda saying a lot.

"Hey, you're the garden fairy, right?" You recognized that voice anywhere, if it wasn't the one and only Alexander, football prodigy.

"Huh, you are cute aren't you? Should've found you sooner," Haley too?

You turned around, empty pot clutched in gloved hands and dirt smudged across your cheeks. Dear lord, it wasn't just Alex and Haley.

"I've seen you around!" Sam said loudly, his smile really was brighter than the sun. You looked to his side where Abigail hushed him and Sebastian waved, arms crossed over his chest.Elliott pushed the glasses that were drooping down his nose up as you caught your glance, and Leah smiled next to him.

"Did we catch you at a bad time?" Penny asked quietly, tucked behind a blue haired Emily, and a frantic Harvey. You were about to shake your head when Shane injected.

"Of course we did," Maru patted his shoulder, and gestured to you again, "You shouldn't talk for other people, Shane,"

Every single one of the 12 stood in front of you, watching as you stared at them, wide eyed and clutching harder onto your pot. Out of every moment they could've found you, it had to have been when dirt was smudged across your face and your gloves soaked and muddy.

"Uhm.." You started, everyone lighting up as you finally found your voice. For some reason, all the attention shook you, and all you wanted to do was retreat to the green house and contemplate your life.

"You probably don't know why we're here, sorry," Leah said, ducking her head quickly in a tiny bow.

"We came here to see who the person was that brought back the garden," Harvey seemed all too enchanted by the very mention of the garden.

"Yes, we also wanted to see who it was that our peers were regarding as the 13th addition," Elliott's voice was comforting in the overwhelming aura each one of them produced. You nodded again, slowly and trailed Haley's hands as they reached out to touch your hair.

Emily quickly snatched her sisters hand away, giving a frowning Haley to Alex, "Manners, Haley,"

They stood there, expecting for you to say something, anything at all, but all you did was stare at them. That was until your brain completely shut down.

"Uhm.. yeah," And with that, you shuffled quickly out of the empty classroom and all but bolted down the corridor into one of the main halls and down the stairs to the gardens.

You knew as you threw off your gloves, set down the pot and grabbed your backpack in a rush, your life wouldn't be the same from then on. Still, you would go home and spend one last night alone until you walked back into school the next day a completely different person.

[anotheronechicagobog]

Mouse Gerwitz x reader Letters

written by @anotheronechicagobog​

Requested by @confusedpimp​

Warnings: swearing, mature themes, implied smut

A/N: I’m asexual and terrible at writing kissing scenes, so sorry if that part sucks. I’ve been sick, had school stuff going on, and had some writer’s block, so I really hope you like it!

(Not my gif)

When you first met Mouse you were sixteen, he, Jay, and Will were all back from being away. Jay was on his first leave from the Rangers and Will was back from Uni for winter break. After spending the full day with you and Will Jay decided to hangout with Mouse. You threw a fit over that, you’d spent over a year terrified that he’d come back in a body bag and that you deserved to spend the few weeks he was there with him. So instead he invited Mouse to hang out the three of you instead. He was handsome, funny, and a Harry Potter fan so you didn’t mind at all. The three of you went down to the boardwalk and just spent time together, talking, going to the river museum which wasn’t your thing in all honesty but it was more about being together than anything else, and ended the day with deep-dish pizzas at home and a movie marathon. It was when your dad came home drunk off his ass that the mood changed. Jay and Will suddenly remembered what they left you home with, and Mouse was sitting there awkwardly, not knowing what to say or do. You sent an apologetic smile his way and stood up. “Hey, dad, it’s time for bed. C’mon, I’ll sing to you again.” Your brothers exchanged shocked and horrified looks as they say you leading your very drunk, very handsy father, up the stairs quickly and efficiently. You’d learned how to handle yourself when your brothers were gone.

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

When you returned downstairs you heard furious voices in the kitchen. You turned to Mouse who was sitting on the couch with wide-eyes. “I’m really sorry you had to watch that Mouse. You look really uncomfortable, can I get you something to eat or drink?”

“Uh... How often does that happen?”

“Why?” Mouse looked at you with guarded eyes. You were confused, Mouse sounded concerned and he didn’t really have any reason to be. Jay was your brother, not Mouse. “What do you mean ‘why’? That shouldn’t be happening to you.”

“Mouse, I only met you this morning so I’m a little surprised at your reaction.”

“Jay’s been showing me and the others pictures of you and sharing stories since basic training, he talks about you all the time, he’s so protective of you, it’s kinda rubbed off on the rest of us.” You nodded slowly, processing his answer. “Look, I get that my brother and his overprotective ways influenced you, but I can handle myself.” Mouse didn’t look convinced.

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

After Mouse left you walked into the kitchen and jumped up onto the counter. The mood was thick and tense and you dreaded the conversation that was coming. “Alright, let’s get this conversation over with.”

“Are you being serious right now?” Jay huffed angrily and threw the dishtowel into the empty but still soapy sink. Will threw the remaining cutlery in the drawer and slammed it shut. “Why are you being so calm about this?”

“I didn’t want you guys to put your lives on hold. You two basically raised me, you’ve sacrificed enough. Yes, he’s been drinking more, yes he’s gotten handsy, but I can handle myself I promise.” Jay screwed his eyes shut and balled his hands into fists. “You should have told us.We’re supposed to take care of you.”

“And what could you have done Will? Jay’s been in the middle east fighting a war, and you’ve been in med school in Seattle. You’ve tried to get custody of me before and it fell through, we just have to face it, this is the situation for now. It sucks but its doable.”

“Are you kidding me?! ARE YOU FUCKING KIDDING ME?!?! Y/N, we are your big brothers, it’s our responsibility to help and protect you! You need to tell us when stuff like this starts, so that we can deal with whatever shit’s going on!” You sighed and watched Jay catch his breath.

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The rest of the boys’ stay was tense. They walked you to and from school, Mouse and some others in Jay’s unit were coming over to stay with you when your brothers couldn’t (including ‘introducing’ themselves to your father), and you were never left alone with your father. You were annoyed at all that your brother was orchestrating, but you were also low-key relieved you didn’t feel the need to barricade your door at night. Two days before Jay and Mouse were scheduled to head back you were introduced to Mouse’s family. His parents were wonderful and Katie was so freaking adorable. You’d all decided to go out to dinner to an Irish restaurant. Right before the Celtic band was set to play Mouse’s mom pulled you aside. “Sweetheart, Greg told us about your dad. We just want you to know that you’re always welcome with our family and at our home. Just call and we’ll be there as soon as possible. Okay?”

“Okay, thanks.”

When you both sat back down Mouse’s eyes caught yours and he smiled sheepishly. You smiled in return, feeling grateful about your overprotective brothers

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TWO YEARS LATER

You cheered silently as you skipped down the steps of your childhood home. You had all your possessions in your backpack and a small suitcase. You were finally eighteen, legally able to walk away without being dragged back. Greg’s family invited you to stay with them until you started university in the fall. They’d been a godsend over the years, to the point where you started sending letters to Mouse as well as Jay. While your brother initially thought it was weird but stopped complaining when Katie mailed him a picture of flowers she drew. Your relationship with Mouse grew.you swapped stories, created inside jokes, and confided in one another. For the next few months, you were going to be living in his old bedroom. It looked like how he left it.

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

You sat on the edge of the bed and looked around the room you’d called home for the past few months. You were excited but apprehensive about starting university. Not just because of the daunting aura of university, but because of the financial aspects. You’d started applying for scholarships and bursaries before your application was even accepted. While you’d been awarded a decent amount of money, it wasn’t anywhere close to covering one semester, forget the rest of your academic career. So you’d turned to something your brothers would murder you for if they ever found out- being a stripper and a sugar baby.

In all honesty, it hadn’t been as bad as you’d expected. You’d found a website where you could... advertise yourself. You’d posted some nice photos of yourself, selfies where you’re smiling in a park and the boardwalk, and made it clear on your profile that sex was NOT on the table. It had taken you a while to find a sugar daddy, for that reason, but you’d found one and your... allowance was pretty good. You’d been contacted by a guy in his late 30’s who was gay and came from a very conservative family who expected a serious girlfriend. He wasn’t ready to come out, terrified of the backlash and possible violence he’d receive from his family, he decided to go another route. So while everyone thought you were moving into an apartment you were really moving in with your sugar daddy.

You’d have your own room, and were free to use any room in his apartment except for his ensuite bedroom and office. The same applied to him, he wasn’t allowed in your room either. He’d been nervous about the arrangement, much like yourself, and had offered to assist you in decorating your room, a kind offer you’d decided to accept to try and form a friendship with him. You’d need to be a convincing companion, after all.

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

ONE YEAR LATER

“Well well well, if it isn’t the girl who put Van Gogh posters up in my room.”

“Mouse! It’s good to see you. You’re on leave with Jay, then? Also, who doesn’t like Starry Night?” You’d gone with Jay to hang out at a bar with him and some guys from his unit, Jay had gone off with a pretty blonde twenty minutes ago and hadn’t returned. Mouse smiled and took another swig of his beer. He sat down across from you, where Jay had been sitting and folded his hands together on top of the table. His arms were even more muscular than the last time you’d seen him. His shoulders were broader, he had a tan, and his eyes looked sharper. “So who’s the lucky guy? Everyone’s been writing that you’re seeing someone, and I know you, you don’t buy jewellery for yourself. Yet here you are, with a lovely necklace, dainty rings and bracelets. C’mon, spill.” Mouse looked tense, and his hands were clenched, almost like if they weren’t so tightly coiled together he’d be doing something else with them. “He’s none of your or anyone else’s business.” You smiled coyly at him and took another sip of your screwdriver. Mouse’s eyes flickered dangerously before going blank, a tense smile forcing its way onto his face. “Well alright, then. Let’s talk about something else.” You felt confused as Mouse started to ramble about the Blackhawks.

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

Things seemed to be frosty between you and Mouse after your talk in the bar. Letters were still exchanged, but he wasn’t as open with you as he used to be. He stopped opening up to you, doodling goofy little cartoons in the margins, sweet words to you, monologuing about his goals and dreams (most of which involved you but you tried not to read too much into, despite how it made your heart flutter), and describing how badly he missed your famous chocolate cookies. You sighed, before placing his latest letter in the decorative box you’d gotten to keep them in. You gently placed that box next to your suitcase before returning to packing. You and George had ended your arrangement, he’d fallen in love with a wonderful man and now that things were serious, and that he felt ready to come out, you were moving out. You’d met him and surprisingly you two had developed a friendship, even with him knowing what you were to George. He’d thought it strange at first, but moved past it quickly when he considered the circumstances. And since he was a successful real estate agent, he’d volunteered himself to find you an apartment. The one you’d settled on was a steal and absolutely beautiful. Taping up the last box you were thankful that you didn’t have more belongings. The new furniture you’d purchased from IKEA was set to be delivered and put together tomorrow, deciding to leave most of your furniture with George since you weren’t overly attached to them and George had, y’know paid for them. So you were going to load your boxes and large suitcase into your car tonight and leave in the morning. Then the room you’d been living in would go back to being a guest room.

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

The sound and smell of sizzling filled your apartment as you cooked up some sausages to accompany your toast and boiled egg for breakfast. They were almost done cooking when there was a knock on your door. Leaving them on the element for a moment you went and opened it. Surprised to see your brother standing there. “Jay! Will! What are you guys doing here?”

“We came to visit your new place, you know, since you actually told us the address this time.”

“Oh come on, you’re not both still on that, are you? I just didn’t want your overprotective asses descending on my life all the time!”

“Hey! Is that any way to talk to the guys who brought doughnuts?” 

“Is that any way to talk to the chick who cooked sausages that she’s willing to share with her brothers?”

“Touche.”

“So why are you guys really here? We were supposed to have shepherd’s pie and stuff tonight.”

“Well, we are here in part to celebrate because I got assigned to Chicago Med and Jay is finally back after getting medically discharged.”

“Also, I was wondering if you’d heard from Mouse.”

“What? No, I haven’t, did something happen?” You stomach dropped and ice bolted up your spine.

“He didn’t handle everything well. After he was allowed to leave the facility, no one’s heard from him. Not even his family. We were wondering if he’d contacted you.”

“No, he hasn’t contacted me. I don’t know why you thought he would, we’re not very close.” Jay narrowed his eyes at you. “Then why were you exchanging letters with him while we were overseas? You don’t do that with someone you don’t care about.”

“He was out there with you Jay. It felt good to talk to someone I know had your back, he was willing to tell me things about you and that was going on that you wouldn’t. We formed a friendship for a while,” Jay and Will let out a snort, you raised your eyebrow, “but things got cold a while ago. He stopped telling me stuff about himself, the genuine things we corrisponded about.” You sighed. “Why are you acting like I’m super close to him?”

“Oh come on, don’t tell me you don’t know.” You shrugged and shook your head, feeling completely confused. “Mouse fell in love with you.” He and Will jumped when they heard glass shatter. You’d dropped your mug when you heard the shocking news. You could feel your jaw hanging open and your heart pounding in your ears. 

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FOUR MONTHS LATER

You were cursing under your breath, your first date since high school stood you up in a pretty bad part of town, huddling closer to yourself, trying to remain unseen. Your plan had failed though, as a hooded man had been following you for the past thee blocks, even circled one behind you. You were officially scared. You were thinking of a plan to attack him that didn’t result in you get raped and/or murdered when you ran into someone. “Sorry, I have to go-”

“Y/N?”

“Mouse? What are you doing here?”

“The question is what are you doing here? You shouldn’t be here.”

“I’d like to catch up with you but there’s a guy following me-”

“Blackhawks hoodie covering his face? I see him. I’ve got you.” He wrapped his arms around your shoulders and started to direct you down the street. “Let’s get you home.”

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

Mouse was sitting at your kitchen island with a coffee and grilled cheese in front of him. His face looked shallow, he had bags around his eyes, he looked like he hadn’t had a decent meal in ages and he couldn’t stop fidgeting. You didn’t need to look at his arms to know that there would be track marks. “Jay’s been worried about you. So have I. You dropped off the radar.”

“It’s my life not his.”

“I know.”

“So... You moved.”

“Yes.”

“You and your boyfriend broke up?”

“Yeah, we did, he wasn’t really my boyfriend, though, that’s a story for another time. How have you been, Mouse, really?”

“It’s complicated.”

“Whatever you say. What have you been doing?”

“Please don’t pull that with me Y/N. I know you can tell that I’ve been doing drugs.”

“I know we’re not as close as we used to be, but I’m here for you, okay? I miss you and what we had. Let me help you. I’ll even leave Jay out of it if you want, I know he can be kind of over bearing.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

“Okay.”

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EIGHT MONTHS LATER

Mouse was curled up on your couch with you stroking his hair. Therapy had taken a lot out of him and he just wanted to be held. You obliged, letting him rest his head on your lap and running your fingers through his hair. He wasn’t moving or making any noise, and he was cold to the touch. If you didn’t know any better you would’ve thought he was on death’s door and called for help. After escorting you home from the disaster of a stand up, you’d gotten close again. Mouse went to rehab for six months and while he wasn’t using anymore it was clear he was still struggling so you’d suggested therapy with the VA. He’d been hesitant, and you hadn’t wanted to push, but he realized you were just trying to help him the best way you knew how. This included letting him live with you and not telling Jay you knew where he was. Mouse hadn’t wanted to ask that of you but he felt much more comfortable with as little pressure on him as possible. You sat like that for hours. Surrounded by silence, the only movement in the room was your hand going in soothing rounded movements along his scalp. You stopped when Mouse started to sit up. “I’m feeling like Thai food tonight, how about you?”

“That sounds like heaven, Y/N. I’m going to take a quick shower.” He dropped a kiss on your forehead and padded down the hall to the bathroom. You placed your usual order and then took a moment to dwell on your current living situation. Mouse meant a lot to you, but he also meant a lot to  Jay, and not telling Jay he wasstaying here could seriously damage your relationship. And your relationship with Mouse was shifting too. Your apartment was only one bedroom, so while Mouse had started with sleeping on the pull-out couch, it hadn’t stayed that way. He’d found you comforting and since his nightmares often woke you up and prompted you to stay with him anyway, you’d started going to bed together. You’d made space for his things in your dresser and closet. All that with the subtle intimate gestures it made you feel like you were dating, and it had dragged all of your buried feelings back into the spotlight. It killed you to be so close, to be tangled in one another, to have your faces so close, and not being able to express how much you loved him. Crushing on your older brother’s brother in arms was one thing, but what the two of you were doing now was something else. Your thoughts were interrupted by the doorbell. You were sitting the food on the island when Mouse stepped out of the bathroom in jeans and... nothing else. His lean chest and arms were exposed, they reminded you of the warmth you felt when he used those arms to pull you close and tuck your head into the crook of his neck. You swallowed thickly and forced yourself to turn away. “Are you okay, Y/N? You’re looking a bit flushed.”

“Yeah, the food’s hot, that’s all.”

“Alright, if you’re sure.”

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

BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP

The monotone sound of your alarm blared into your ear, reminding you that you had class. You moved to get out of bed but were held in place by Mouse’s -deceptively- strong arms. “It’s early. Stay.”

“I can’t, today’s my last class before my thesis is due.”

“No.”

“Greg.”

“Oh, it’s ‘Greg’ now is it? When will you be back?”

“Twelve-thirty.”

“Let’s meet somewhere for lunch.”

“Diner?”

“Diner.”

“Alright, now that that’s settled, let me go.”

“Fine. But I want it made very clear that I would rather be holding you against me.”

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Class dragged on and you were glad when it ended. Your thesis was already complete, all you had to do was meet with your supervisor to go over it.  You stretched your neck to try and remove some of the tension as you stood on the bus that was heading in the direction of your and Mouse’s favourite diner. A small family-owned place that was run by a single mom and her two kids, one of whom was a firefighter at firehouse 51. You got off at your stop and entered the diner, you spotted Mouse almost immediately. He was facing the door and smiled, gesturing to the two cups of coffee on the table. The sight made all the remaining tension evaporate.

Lunch with Mouse always relieved some stress, talking to him, being with him, made everything better. Always. Your burgers were served promptly and with a twinkling smile from Peter. The exchange was not missed by Mouse who muttered under his breath, as he did every time Peter was your server. “Mouse, why do you always do that?”

“What? Get annoyed when he flirts with you while I’m sitting right here?”

“We’re not dating Mouse, why does it matter if he flirts with me?” He tensed and swept his tongue over his lower lip. Taking a deep breath he sat up straighter in his seat and looked you in the eyes. “I don’t like it because I do want to date you, and I know that wanting to date you isn’t the same as actually dating you, but he knows how I feel about you. His mom pulled it out of me when I was doing a freelance job on my laptop here a couple of weeks ago and not only was he standing right beside her, but he told me that he thought we’d make a cute couple.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah... I get it if you don’t feel about me like that, I mean I’m a train wreck-”

“Mouse.”

“Jay would kill me-”

“Mouse.”

“I’m not good enough for you-”

“Mouse!”

“Y/N, please stop interrupting me. I just, I get that you don’t love me back and that’s okay and completely understandable.”

“Mouse I love you.” He gazed at you softly, reached his hand had closed around yours gently. “Do you mean it?” His voice was deep and soulful. “Yes. Mouse, I love you.”

“Thank God.” He leaned across the table and enclosed his lips around yours. His hands were delicately cradling your face, your heart swelled. All you could do was wrap your arms around your neck and smile into his lips. When you parted neither you nor Mouse could stop beaming.

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ONE YEAR LATER

Three months after your first kiss with Mouse he decided to get back in contact with Jay. Your brother had responded by tackling him in a bear hug, getting him a job at intelligence as the tech guy, and waving off your apology citing that you brought out the best in Mouse. While you and Mouse were still going strong and continued to love each other with everything you have, neither of your brothers knew. The only people who knew were Sarah Reese, your best friend, Trudy Platt, because she’s a genius, and Voight, because that man knows everything. They all encouraged you to tell your siblings, and you wanted to, you really did, but Mouse didn’t want to. He said he just wanted to enjoy your little bubble a while longer, but in truth, you knew he felt guilty about dating his best friend’s baby sister.

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

ONE YEAR LATER

You and Mouse still hadn’t told your brothers, while more members of med, PD and firehouse 51 knew, they were all sworn to secrecy. You wanted to tell your brothers. You wanted to be able to kiss your boyfriend when you visited the precinct at lunch, to hold hands without Mouse looking over your shoulders. It was starting to wear on you honestly, but you still loved him. And you understood that the time really just hadn’t been right recently. You both had agreed to tell them, but then catastrophe after catastrophe prevented you from doing so.

Sarah was frog-marching you to the ED because you’d been throwing up violently almost non-stop for days and was furious when she found out you hadn’t told Mouse you were sick just because he had a case. “Sarah-”

“No. You’re sick. Something’s wrong, and if you don’t get checked out I’ll tell Will and then he’ll drag you down here.”

“I was going to say you’re right this definitely isn’t a little stomach bug, that I’m grateful for you as a friend, and that your goddamn claws are digging into my shoulder, but okay.” Her hand fell from your shoulder, you rubbed it tenderly as the pain flared. “Sorry, I’m just getting really worried.”

“I know, I am too. Because I realized upstairs before you made the decision to manhandle me down here, that I haven’t gotten my period in two months.”

“Fuck.”

“Yup, that’s how I ended up here.” She rolled her eyes and hooked her elbow in yours. “I call godmother.”

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“Hi Y/N, what’s wrong?”

“Nat, I think I’m pregnant.”

“Well okay, then. We’ll do an ultrasound while we wait for your blood test results.” You lifted up your shirt and tried to control your nervous breathing. “This might be a little cold, okay.” She pressed the gel-covered wand on your abdomen. She smiled and turned to you. “Congratulations, you’re seven weeks pregnant.” You let out a sigh and looked at the monitor your brother’s wife had turned towards you. Your heart felt so full, remembering Mouse’s numerous comments about what he thought your children would look like. The moment of peace and joy was disturbed when Will, in his regular clothes, pushed the curtain aside. “Hey, Nat I need- Y/N? Why are you here? And- oh god. You’re pregnant, you’re- how are you pregnant? Y/N?” Will was in full freak out mode and he wasn’t paying any heed to Nat who was doing her best to calm him down. Sarah accidentally chose that moment to distractedly walk into the room. “Y/N I found the cutest way to tell Mouse you’re pregnant on pinterest-”

“Mouse?! Mouse knocked you up?! Does Jay know? Forget it, I’m going to kill him.” He stormed out of the room and ED, presumably to confront your boyfriend at PD.

“Shit, I didn’t think he’d be here, I’m sorry Y/N.”

“It’s okay, I have to get to the precinct before Will does.”

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

After pleading with your boss to let you go early, citing a family emergency, you rushed to the precinct and to Trudy’s desk. “Will’s upstairs isn’t he?”

“Got here a minute before you did, what’s wrong?”

“He found out about me and-”

“Say no more. Head on up.”

You took the stairs two at a time and ran into the bullpen to a full-on screaming match between Will, Jay, and Mouse. “Back the fuck up Will! Jay doesn’t get to make this decision for me and neither do you!”

“NO WAY GREG! NO WAY IN FUCKING HELL!”

“Will, calm down, he’s my best friend and I don’t want him to reenlist either but there’s no need to yell like that.”

“YES THERE FUCKING IS! GREG GERWITZ YOU ARE NOT RUNNING OFF TO THE RANGERS AFTER KNOCKING UP Y/N!”

“What?! Mouse, you did what?! YOU HAD SEX WITH MY BABY SISTER?!”

“DOES SHE EVEN KNOW YOU’RE GOING BACK TO THE RANGERS OR WERE YOU PLANNING ON TELLING HER BEFORE ASKING FOR A RIDE TO THE AIRPORT?!”

“HOW DARE YOU HAVE SEX WITH Y/N-”

“You’re reenlisting with the rangers?” Your voice was so quiet you weren’t sure how the three arguing men heard you but they did, as well as the rest of intelligence who were huddled in the break room. You were shaking and your vision was blurring from tears. You’d spent years worrying about him, as well as Jay. You didn’t think you could handle that, especially not now. You felt light-headed and like you needed to lie down. “No, I’m not.” Mouse crossed the room to you quickly, guiding you into Antonio’s chair and holding your face in his loving hands. With the pads of his thumbs, he wiped away your tears. “No, I’m not reenlisting. I got the offer from my old SO, I briefly considered it before chucking that idea out the window because I don’t want to leave you, Y/N. The only reason I haven’t outright told Jay, and consequently the rest of intelligence, is because they were trying to control my decision. I was never going to go, I won’t leave you, especially not now. How are you feeling sweetheart? Do you need something to eat or drink?” Still shaken up, you could only sniffle out, “I don’t know,” before bursting into tears. You felt him bend down more and wrap himself around you. He ran his hands comfortingly up and down your back while murmuring words of reassurance to you. “I’m right here.” “I don’t ever want to leave you.” “I love you so damn much sweetheart.” “I want to spend the rest of our lives together.” “I love you.” You finally lifted your head out of the crook of his neck, and looked into the gentle eyes you love so much. “I’m pregnant.” He smirked playfully. “I heard.” Laughter escaped your lips before you could realize his joke wasn’t all that funny. He pressed his forehead to yours. “We’re going to be parents.”

“Yeah, we are.” Mouse captured your lips in a loving, searing kiss that was interrupted by someone, or someone’s, ‘aheming’ right next to you. Still tangled with Mouse you turned to your brothers, “how do you guys feel about being uncles?”

“We feel great but,” Will looked at Jay who finished the thought you knew they were both dying to ask, “are you going to explain any of this to us?”

[annecoulmanross]

Bridgens/Peglar Egyptology AU

(for the @theterrorbingo square “modern AU” | word count: 1k fic + 1.5k AU details | rating: T | warnings: mild spooky; talk of mummies; description of a panic attack)

The Terrors are all members of the Classics (Greek & Roman Studies) department. The Erebites are all members of the Egyptology department. These two departments share the beautiful Barrow Hall building on the campus of their university, but they do NOT get along….

….until Henry Peglar, a first-year graduate student in Classics, decides that he wants to learn how to read Egyptian hieroglyphs. 

(Drabbles and AU info below the cut!) 

It turns out that most students who want to study hieroglyphs have already finished the introductory course, however, because Henry ends up in a tiny winter-term class with only two other students. The three “hieroglyph 101s” all show up a bit early to their first day of class, fumbling into a dimly-lit classroom in the basement of Barrow Hall, across from the archaeological store-rooms.

They exchange quick introductions while waiting for the instructor to arrive. Both of Henry’s classmates are undergraduate Egyptology majors: Tom Hartnell is a bright young freshman with a passion for Egyptian mummies (and, admittedly, a slightly spotty undergraduate record), and Henry Collins is a terribly anxious junior who recently switched majors from Engineering (“Please call me Collins,” he says, after Henry begins to comment that they share a name. “Everyone else already calls me Collins.”)

The moment of revelation for Henry Peglar, though, is when he first sets eyes on their instructor: a senior graduate student named John Bridgens, who walks in just a minute after the hour, with a thermos of what smells like mint tea.

John Bridgens looks almost mournful for a moment, his dark eyes soulful, a thick pea-coat sitting heavy on his shoulders (which he quickly shrugs off; it may be a chilly January outside, but Barrow Hall is toasty and warm). When John looks over to his students, though, he smiles, and his face is transformed: Henry feels like the sun has suddenly come out from behind the blustery clouds.

Henry quickly realizes that learning Egyptian won’t be like learning Greek or Latin, but fortunately John is a very good teacher. Even though John holds office hours at an ungodly hour of the morning, Henry shows up to every office hour with a bright smile and a long list of questions.

What Henry doesn’t yet know is that he’s in for the most exciting semester of his life…

(Featuring such hijinks as: John and his students Henry, Tom, and Collins get locked into the archaeological store-room with the mummies, in the dark! Henry and Tom Hartnell uncover a secret that could overturn the Egyptology department! Henry develops an unfortunate crush on his instructor! What could go wrong!)

+ 

“We’re Trapped in Here, Aren’t We?” (Bonus Drabble)

The four of them have now been locked in the basement, in the dark, for over an hour.

Collins is quietly freaking out, sitting on a storage crate in the corner of the main room of the museum storage space. Henry watches Tom Hartnell deftly trying to help Collins regulate his breathing to a pace approaching normal, with some success; Henry decides not to intervene.

“We’re trapped in here, aren’t we?” Collins asks. He doesn’t sound panicked anymore, just stressed; it’s an improvement.

Tom rubs Collins’s shoulder reassuringly, and says, “I don’t know for certain, but I’m not going to let it worry me – we’re going to be okay, alright?” Tom then turns to Henry Peglar and tilts his head, adding: “Eddie Hoar told me that there used to be a secret passage that ran between Barrow Hall and the library, and that the door opened up somewhere here in the storage-rooms. Maybe we can find it?”

Henry nods, flashes a grin that feels fake but must seem genuine in the low light of the storage-rooms’ emergency lighting, because Tom smiles back at him. “I’ll go check on John,” Henry says. “See if he doesn’t know anything about a tunnel.”

Slipping in between the shelves of Greek ceramics, Henry winds his way toward the back workroom where he left John Bridgens, who had been convinced that there must be an extra key somewhere in the workroom desk drawers.

Henry is so caught up in thoughts of tunnels that fails to notice the packing box sitting next to the shelves and he manages to trip right over it. He takes the fall hard, feeling the chilly linoleum under his now-aching arm, his eyes squeezed shut against the pain. When he opens his eyes, though, Henry feels a bolt of fear run though him – for a moment he thinks he’s gone blind, because he sees nothing but darkness. A moment later, the ancient emergency lights flicker back on, and that’s worse because Henry is face-to-face with the mummy.

Henry had forgotten that she was stored here, under the shelves of Egyptian faience. He distantly remembers Dr. Blanky pointing out “the Egyptian girl, our princess,” in her lovely painted coffin, on a tour through the storage rooms last year when he had been a prospective student – but the fact that she was down here (trapped with us, his mind whispers) had escaped his mind.

Shuddering, Henry pushes himself up from the cold floor and backs up against the wall as the lights keep flickering. He knows, he knows, that there’s nothing to fear here, but the sight of the girl’s skin, drawn tight against her skin, her eerie grimace, had shaken him.

“Henry?”

Henry jumps about a foot in the air, but it’s just John, peering out from the workroom door.

“Henry, are you okay?” John continues, his brow furrowed with worry.

Henry swallows. “Yup, yeah, just took a tumble.” He straightens up, tries to collect himself. “Did you find an extra key?” he asks John.

But John isn’t so easily dissuaded. “Are you sure you’re alright?” He steps up next to Henry, a hand hovering over the arm that Henry’s cradling to his chest (Henry’s certain it isn’t broken, but he knows it’ll be bruised a bit).

Henry looks up into John’s eyes and exhales softly to see the loving concern written there. John’s so close now, lifting a hand toward Henry’s cheek, and Henry wants this, wants to reach out and embrace; he finally feels his limbs stop shaking now that John’s here, even as his heart races and his face tilts up…

…. and that’s the moment when the emergency lights finally flicker their last, and the corridor goes dark as a tomb.

+

Some Background on the Humanities Departments of Barrow Hall

The Department of Classics

The Classics program at Barrow Hall is small but powerful. Most of the faculty get along well with each other, professionally, although they don’t socialize much. There aren’t many graduate students in the program, but most of the grad students they do have are quite active on the university campus.

Classics Faculty

Dr. Crozier is the department chair of the Classics program. He teaches early Roman history, with a focus on land surveying, and he takes a very scientific approach to his material.

Dr. Little is an associate professor who teaches Greek military history and gets very excited about ancient weapons. (“Like the shot that killed Leonidas at Thermopylae!”)

Dr. Hodgson is an associate professor who teaches Greek drama; he’s particularly obsessed with the tragedies of Euripides – the more ritualistic violence the better.

Dr. Irving is an assistant professor who teaches later Roman history, and can turn any conversation into a debate about the early history of Christianity. His most recent book was titled “Coming Out Christian in the Roman World: How the Followers of Jesus Made a Place in Caesar's Empire.” * Despite Irving’s own Christian faith and his social justice outreach work with the campus Queer Interfaith club, Irving’s a bit of a chronological traditionalist when it comes to academic research, and tends to dismiss any literature written after Augustine.

Drs. Peddie and MacDonald are actually part of the History Department, but because they teach Medieval Latin, they’re considered honorary members of the classics faculty. (MacDonald teaches a wildly popular undergraduate seminar – cross-listed with Classics and History – called “Witches, Ghosts, and Potions: Medical Mysteries in Medieval Europe.”)

Dr. Blanky is the exception to the “we hate the Egyptologists” rule – Thomas gets along quite well with a certain Dr. Reid, both of whom have a passion for film studies, and together they’ve organized a weekly historical film series for the undergrads. Dr. Reid’s top picks are old-school classics like Cleopatra (1963) and Julius Caesar (1953); Blanky, on the other hand, is partial to Gladiator (2000). He’s also the exception to the “this department doesn’t socialize rule,” being, himself, a long-time best friend of department chair Dr. Crozier.

Classics Grad Students

Thomas Jopson is an older graduate student – he’s just a breath away from receiving his PhD: Dr. Crozier, who has been supervising his thesis on the systems of enslavement in the Roman Republic and the lived experiences of Roman slaves, is extremely proud of Thomas’s sensitive eye for historical evidence. Thomas also works for the campus mental health office, leading a therapy group for adult children of those suffering from addiction.

Billie Gibson, another grad student, is part-way through writing his dissertation on the reception of Greek ideas about homosexuality in the Victorian period, under the supervision of a confused but supportive Dr. Irving. (“Isn’t this more of a History department topic?”)

“Hickey” started the PhD program at the same time as Billie, and he’s begun writing his thesis on cannibalistic imagery in Greek poetry with Dr. Hodgson. Everyone just calls him Hickey, and Henry Peglar hasn’t been able to figure out his full name (or whether “Hickey” is a first name or a last name, or even whether “Hickey” is part of his real name at all) because no one ever updates the Classics department website. Hickey is part of a student organization called the Dionysians, but they’re not listed on the university’s roster of sanctioned clubs, and no one seems to know what it is that they do, exactly.

Henry Peglar is the newest member of the department, a first-year grad student. He’s planning on studying depictions of ancient history in modern fiction, hopefully with Dr. Blanky, who also happens to be his first-year advisor.

The Department of Egyptology

The Egyptology program at Barrow Hall has been having some hiring problems in recent years. Not only did several older professors retire, but the young Dr. Gore decided to move into museum-work full-time and Dr. Fairholme was ‘poached’ by the rival Egyptology program at another university. As a result, the Department of Egyptology has been under-staffed, with too many grad students and too few professors, resulting in two controversial recent faculty hires.

Egyptology Faculty

Dr. John is the department chair of the Egyptology program. He teaches ancient Egyptian literature and has a rather old-fashioned perspective on middle Egyptian grammar.

Dr. Reid teaches courses on the history of archaeological discoveries in Egypt, and the culture of artifact (mis-)handling by European excavators. He’s friendly with Dr. Blanky in the Classics program, and he lovingly crafts discussion questions for the film-showings that he and Blanky run. (He’ll never admit it, but he secretly loves the 1999 Mummy movie.)

Dr. Stanley teaches classes on ancient Egyptian medicine. He’s known for his severe grading policies and for his impressive ability to ruin the fun of topic that involves things like magic spells and fever-demons and having sex with crocodiles.

Dr. Fitzjames is one of the two new faculty members, a dashing archaeologist with an impressive résumé of excavation in Egypt – although, as Dr. Crozier has wryly observed, some of his funding sources for those digs haven’t always been completely above-board.

Dr. Le Vesconte is the other new faculty member, an associate professor with an equally flashy history of excavation and publication. Rumor is that he and Dr. Fitzjames once found a live cheetah in an Egyptian tomb and tried to keep it as the excavation’s mascot.

Egyptology Grad Students

Edmund “Eddie” Hoar is a senior doctoral candidate, working dedicatedly on a massive dissertation about Egyptian stamps and seals. He’s been working with Dr. John because his old advisor recently retired, and with Eddie’s advisor gone, Eddie’s pretty much the only person on campus who knows his way around the dusty archaeological collection in the basement of Barrow Hall.

John Bridgens has been with the program about as long as Eddie, but he’s closer to finishing his thesis, a sprawling dissertation on Egyptian poetry under Dr. John’s supervision.

Charles “Freddie” Des Voeux is part-way through writing a thesis on Napoleon’s excavations in Egypt; his advisor is Dr. Reid. (He’s also roommates with Eddie Hoar, and the two of them are known as “(Fr)eddie” in the grad student group chat.)

Harry Goodsir is a first-year PhD student, who entered the program at the same time Henry Peglar started in Classics; the two of them met at the university-wide graduate student orientation, and Harry encouraged Henry to take hieroglyphs, which Harry had learned himself while he was an undergraduate, while volunteering with his siblings at an Egyptian museum in their hometown. Harry’s interested in Egyptian archaeology, hoping to study with Dr. Fitzjames and Dr. Le Vesconte, but there was a paperwork mix-up that placed Dr. Stanley as Harry’s first-year advisor (Harry is unhappy about it; Dr. Stanley is even more unhappy about it).

Members of Associated Departments in Nearby Ross Hall (& Their Drama)

Dr. James C. Ross is the co-chair of the anthropology program and a dear friend of Dr. Crozier in classics. Though he does have a complicated legacy with the university – being a descendent of the famous (if problematic) explorer, Sir John Ross, for whom Ross Hall is named – Dr. James is well-liked by his students and forward-thinking about his discipline.

Ross’s co-chair, Dr. Silna Kamookak, thinks Ross could stand to apply his anthropology to real-world problems a bit more intensively. Dr. Kamookak is a rising star in applied archaeology and she publishes on issues of museum collection ethics and heritage management; the graduate seminar she teaches on Inuit oral history documentation is known to be one of the best courses in the department.

Dr. Jane Franklin is the chair of English Literature; her research interests revolve around the writings of Charles Dickens. All the students in Barrow Hall call her “Dr. Jane,” and call her husband “Dr. John,” because neither would agree to let the other be called “Dr. Franklin.” A memo was circulated. It was messy.

Dr. Sophia Cracroft is an assistant professor in the History of Science department, and a frequent collaborator with Dr. Crozier in an ongoing interdisciplinary project about ancient cartography; although Dr. Cracroft has often tried to get Dr. John Franklin to permit a collaboration with the Egyptology department, Dr. John has always refused. Cracroft’s grad students say that it’s because Dr. John heard something “unsavory” about the relationship between Dr. Cracroft and Dr. Crozier. None of the grad students know what this “unsavory” thing is, but gossip ranges from the vanilla (an affair) to the bizarre (a papyrus smuggling ring).

Other Details

Goldner’s is a purveyor of textbooks of dubious quality. For some reason, all of the introductory language classes in both the Classics and Egyptology departments are always assigned Goldner’s textbooks, much to the students’ and instructors’ displeasure.

* “Coming Out Christian in the Roman World: How the Followers of Jesus Made a Place in Caesar's Empire,” is a real book! (It was not, however, written by John Irving.) I had a fantastic time reading it a few years ago – go check it out.  

[bluemoon-writer]

Childhood Friends AU: Max and Markov (Marxkov)

Part 1- In which Max ‘makes’ a friend

(2.6k words)

Masterlist Here

A/N: I got a bit carried away while writing and this became less of a list of bubbly making headcanons and more of a tragic origin story, so it’s a little different from the Marikim headcanons, so let me know what you guys think.

------

-Max’s mother, Claudie, gets pregnant with him at age 18

-he was an accidental pregnancy

- his father, Adam Kante, had just enlisted in the French Armed Forces and his mother was just starting university

-it wasn’t ideal circumstances, but his parents loved each other and didn’t want to give up

-So his dad proposed, and was stationed in Paris until Max was born

-unfortunately, then he was sent off to an overseas base

-Luckily, Claudie’s brother steps up to help out.

-Two years older than his sister, he was very different from her and her husband. While both of them were disciplined and fact oriented, he was more laid-back

-His dream was to be a stand-up comedian, and his stage name was Mark Oz

-He worked at night so he was able to watch Max during the day so Claudie could go to school

-With Adam away for so long, Mark became a father figure of sorts to Max

-They would spend most of the day together, and Mark realized early on that he had a child-genius on his hands

-So he bought extra learning material for Max

-He encouraged Max as much as could to peruse whatever academics interested

-Max was only 3 though, so nothing truly interested him more than Transformers

-Mark played the cartoon as background noise one day, and Max was instantly hooked

-He watched every episode

-For his birthday, he received only Transformers figurines

-when he started school he would draw new transformers in Art class

-For his 5th birthday, his mom bought him a robotics kit (a child-friendly robotics kit)

-and his Uncle bought him a coding Manuel

-Max found his new passion

-him and his uncle spent days building simple robots

-he was so fascinated by robots that he spent most of his free time learning more

-he dreamed about one day creating his own transformer

-and his Uncle helped him.

-He was never super academic but was still had the family brains.

-He full heartedly threw himself into Max’s passion

-inadvertedly, it helped his career. He created one of the most unique stand up comedy routines ever heard in Paris, those lucky enough to see it raved about it for years

-Mark Oz was finally hitting it big time, and he did not give a shit

-the only person he cared about making smile everyday was his nephew

-together, the two of them continued to hone Max’s robot building skills

-Mark bought a big black notebook and in it he wrote down every robot Max wanted to build

-max would dictate the details and Mark would write it, and then Max would attach a picture he drew of it

-despite being a child genius, he was still a child and had atrocious handwriting

-Slowly they were crossing robots off the list, starting with the most simple

-a basic walking robot

-eventually, and Mark didn’t know how long it would take, but they’d get to their last robot

-a fully functioning AI

-When Max turned seven he started taking advanced classes

-His mom had just finished her PhD, one of the youngest ever to complete the program, and was considering applying to become an astronaut

-Both Mark, Max, and her husband encouraged her to go for. Adam offered be discharged from the military to look after Max, but Mark insisted that he wouldn’t mind taking care of Max

-“Neither one of you should put your dream jobs on hold. I’ve been watching Max for seven years, I love the kid, and I’ll take care of him for the rest of my life if he still wants me around.”

-And Mark kept that promise

-Unfortunately, he kept it because his life was cut short.

-It was after a late show, the driver was intoxicated and didn’t see Mark crossing the street.

-Claudie withdrew from the astronaut program and took up a job as a train driver so she could be around for Max

-Adam returned from his deployment, but things just weren’t the same. He enlisted in a third campaign after a month

-Max was devasted. His uncle was the only one who understood him.

-He didn’t speak a word to anyone for a year.

-His mom is concerned, but therapists insist that Max just needs time

-Meanwhile, Max works his way through his robot list.

-His mom offers to help him, but he refuses.

-If he can’t build them with his uncle then he’ll build them alone

-a year later he’s halfway through the list

-His mom almost cries when he asks her to come see his robots

-He spends the entire day showing her the different ones and explaining what they do

-After that, their relationship improves greatly. Max talks a lot about everything he’s interested in

-Claudie is barely able to keep up

-She’s afraid that he might have an unhealthy attachment to his robots though, and is afraid of what will happen when he completes his list

-So she introduces him to a new hobby, video gaming

-Mark had tried to get Max into it a few times but Max was more interested in Robotics and programming at the time

-Now though, in memory of his uncle, he gives it a go

-and fucking loves it

-He and his mom spend the weekend playing old games that his uncle had

-He doesn’t give up on his robots though

-Two years later, he’s down to the very last robot on his list

-His father comes home that same week, his three year campaign ended

-Once Max started speaking again, his father would video call him. Max would show him his latest robot, and his father, who didn’t know a thing about robots, would ask him as many questions as he could come up with about it

-It was slightly awkward at first, seeing his dad in person, but soon it faded away

-Max still didn’t want help with his robots, but he was more than happy to play video games with his father

-his dad was skilled, particularly in fighting games, and Max almost never beat him

-at first

-his dad taught him a few tricks, and Max practiced and practiced until he could beat his dad

-Max was doing pretty good

-Still, though, he seemed to have an aura of sadness around him

-His dad asked him one day what games he liked to play with his friends

“I don’t have friends”

-It was the advanced classes. They were filled with older kids, and none of them wanted to befriend a 10 year-old

-His parents decided to pull him out at the end of the year.

-For college, he’d be going to a regular (though very good) school with kids his own age

-Francois Dupont had a great reputation, and offered him an academic scholarship

-His dad enlisted in another campaign

-Max was sad to see him leave, but was feeling happier than he had been in a while

-He continued to work on his last robot

-He turned 11 and started school at Francois Dupont

-He had no idea how to interact with kids his own age

-He was seated next to a hyperactive kid who introduced himself as Kim

-They were in the very front row and Kim joked that the teacher was already trying to keep an eye on them

-it wasn’t very funny, but Max almost fell over laughing

-“Wow, if you thought that was funny, just wait till you meet my friend Marinette!”

-“I’m sorry its just that…I would never disrupt class. Knowledge is the most valuable thing we can gain, and I intend to gain as much as I can.”

“I don’t know man, that sounds kind of like something a mad scientist would say.”

“well, I am trying to build the world’s first sentient AI in my mom’s basement.”

-Being at a regular school is a relief to Max

-The homework is extremely easy in comparison to what he’d been doing before, which gives him more time to work on his robot

-(bare with me through this next part guys, I do not know anything about science, mechanics, or engineering so this will probably be a heaping load of bullshit)

-the biggest difficulty in the creation of this robot was not creating an AI, many people have done that before, but rather figuring out how to allow it to feel without programming emotions into it

-Max had been doing a lot of research on Markov chains lately

-He believed that being able to code the ability to predict events would lead to a breakthrough on how to code the comprehension of emotions

-but the Markov process and chains were extremely complicated

-but, Max was out of ideas

-so he spent weeks reading about all the research and experiments. He read about modern day applications of it, analyzed the codes he could get his hands on

-and then he made his own.

-He didn’t need his AI to study systems, but rather humans

-ideally, if he did his code right, the AI would scan the web for all examples of human behavior to catalog and process it. Hopefully, then it would gain the ability to comprehend human emotion

-Max figured he would know if it worked if it was able to predict how people would react to different things being said to them

-sure enough, he was right…in a way

-Max didn’t think he’d be able to achieve true sentience like what the transformers had

-He was trying to give his AI the ability to understand emotions, not the ability to feel

-and yet, somehow, from the first day the robot was online, he seemed to have emotions

-it confounded Max

-He spent all of winter break talking to the robot

-trying to determine if it really felt

-He started just by talking to it

-it had access to all the knowledge on the internet, yet it seemed to have trouble grasping many theories about philosophy and morals

-Max accidentally stayed up the entire night discussing moral relativism with it

-He counted it’s ability to ask questions and hold a conversation in it’s favor

-however, that’s what Max was aiming for in the first place, and it didn’t convince him it had feelings

-he had to admit though, he truly hoped it did as he was quickly considering the robot as his first true friend

-in the weeks they spent talking Max told the robot his life’s story

-and the robot replied with genuine sympathy

-Max connected with it in a way that he’d only connected with one other person before

-he showed it a video of his uncle’s stand up routine

-when the robot started laughing Max was blown away

-not by the laugh, but by it’s reaction to it

“Oh no! Max, I am afraid I had a malfunction! Do you think it is possible for auditory signals to transmit a virus?”

“What? No, that’s laughter. It’s natural, especially when you’re listening to someone as funny as my uncle.”

“Yes, the brother of your mother. You mentioned he had a career as a comedian, and a quick scan of the web shows that he was quite successful.”

“Yeah, he was.”

“You sound sad. Were you close?”

(it’s only because it’s a robot and has advanced hearing sensors that it’s able to hear Max’s “Yes”)

-Max really hopes the robot truly is sentient

-What finally convinced him is when he heard it cry

-He’d left it in the basement to get eat dinner, promising to be back in half an hour

-but got drawn in to a round of video games with his mother

-sure enough, a few hours past before Max remembered he left the robot in the basement

-he shrugged it off as an accident until he got to the basement door and heard quiet sobs

-when he went down the stairs it was the robot crying

-when Max came into hearing range, the sounds stopped

“Max! You’re back! I thought you had abandoned me!”

-it didn’t seem possible, but Max could hear the happiness in the robot’s voice

-in that moment, Max made a decision

-“How do you feel about the name Markov?”

“Like the chains?”

“Yes, but Markov also sounds like…Mark Oz.”

“…I would be honored to be named after someone who was so important to you.”

-Max introduces Markov to his mom

-She’s literally at a loss for words

-like, she knew Max was a genius, but this was something on a whole other level

-She’s incredibly proud though

-and wants to tell everyone about it

-But Max stops her

-Markov isn’t just a robot, he’s a sentient being, and more importantly, he’s his friend

-if people learned about him, they would want to take him apart to figure out how he works

-Max doesn’t want that and neither does Markov

-So his mother keeps silent

-Plus there’s still more work to be done

-Markov might be built, but there’s still a lot that could be improved

-For starters, he’s huge

-Max built him out of three old computer monitors and can’t even lift him

-luckily, Max doesn’t have to do all the work himself

-Markov creates the blueprint for a smaller body

-they go from three monitors to two to two

-but it is slow going

-the first downsize took six months because Max didn’t want to risk accidentally destroying Markov

-he’s the happiest he’s been in a while

-but Markov thinks he could be even happier

-Max hasn’t been interacting with his classmates much

-he’s on good terms with them. No one trips him or throws things at the back of his head, and he talks to some of them every now and then

-his seatmate, Kim, asks him how he’s doing every morning

-Max doesn’t realize that he could be getting an even better experience out of school

-but Markov does, he’s analyzed enough books to know that it’s vital for a young child to have multiple human friends

-so he encourages Max to reach out

-Max is hesitant, but asks Kim if he wants to come over and play video games sometime

-Kim’s response is a resounding HELL YES

-(minus the swear word bc he’s like 11)

-Max is nervous as all hell, but the moment he has a game controller in his hands it goes away

-Kim is pretty tough competition, but Max still wins most of the time

-before they know it, it’s dark outside

-The next day when they need to partner up for an assignment, Kim asks Max if he wants to be partners

-Max smiles for a week straight

-With Markov’s encouragement, Max slowly befriends most of his classmates

-He’s particularly close with his seatmate Kim and a girl from Class A named Alix

-He also meets Kim’s friend Marinette, who’s in Class A with Alix

-and her friend Nino

-Still, Max considers Markov to be his best friend

-He sits in the basement with him everyday and tells him everything that happened that day

-Markov eagerly listens to all of it

-he wants more than anything to be able to go out and things for himself.

-but for now he’s stuck in the basement

-he’s sure that one day Max will make him small enough to transport

-for now, he’s happy to listen to his best friend’s stories

-----

Bonus:

------

A/N: I didn’t mean to make Max’s life so tragic, I swear.

If you want to be added to the childhood friends taglist or removed from it, please send me an ask or message me.

Taglist:

All Miraculous Ladybug fics:

@ravennightingaleandavatempus @crazylittlemunchkin

All Childhood AU fics:

@charlietheepic7 @krispydefendorpolice​

[ezmodo]

Mom’s Workshop

Ruby sat at her workbench, enjoying a quiet Saturday afternoon. The house was silent save for the booming bass of Grimmplosion’s latest single blasting out of the headphones that rested around her neck, the noise drowning out the happy panting of the corgi beneath her feet. The family pet luxuriated under the attention, Ruby rubbing her feet up and down the dog’s velvety belly along with each riff, playing the corgi like an electric guitar. She was still in her PJs (it was a PJs sort of day), consisting of a supremely comfy, if ratty, old shirt and equally worn pajama pants.

Crescent Rose lay disassembled before her, each part resting at its designated spot. It didn’t need maintenance - she had given her baby a thorough cleaning after returning from her mission three days ago - but it helped her visualize future upgrades. She flipped through the weapons magazine on her lap, coming back to the page she had dogeared earlier that showcased hard-light dust. She could tinker up a way to surround and reinforce her main blade to provide extra piercing power to counter the thick hide of a Goliath or maybe install a mechanism at the base of the pole that could sprout a second scythe blade to surprise human opponents! Hard-light dust was so dang cool! And so dang expensive. Too expensive for now. Maybe she could call up Weiss and ask for an early Nondescript Winter Holiday present…

The dog beneath her suddenly stirred, rolling to its feet as it stared past Ruby to the door behind her. Looking back towards the door, Ruby clicked her headphones off and listened.

tmp tmp tmp tmp tmp

Ruby smiled to herself. Somebody was finally up.

tmp tmp tmp tmP TMP TMp tmp tmp tmp

The sound of little feet went zooming past the workshop and faded as they padded further down the hall.

“Drei.”

The corgi looked up at Ruby, its entire backside wagging in anticipation.

“Fetch.”

The dog shot off like a rocket and squeezed out through the cracked door to chase down her target. Ruby placed the magazine and headphones on the table before standing to stretch. She only had to wait a moment before she could hear giggling off in the house and soon enough the tmp tmp tmp of feet approached the workshop.

Drei pushed the door the rest of the way open as the dog barged in, giving a single bark as she sat proudly at Ruby’s feet. Ruby knelt down to give the dog a scratch behind the ears in reward as the boss of the house herself came to a stop in the doorway.

Primrose Arc stood just beyond the door rubbing the last bit of sleep from her silver eyes. Her blonde hair was pulled up into a loose knot on top of her head for her nap, some bits that came loose sticking out at odd angles. She was, like her mom, still in her pajamas from the night before, a purple top and bottom Yang had gotten her that barely fit the four-year-old. ‘I Can Sleep All Day. What’s YOUR Semblance?’ it read, something that always made Ruby grin. It probably was time to retire the set, even though Prim loved everything her aunt got her - she was growing like a weed. She could practically hear Jaune correcting her in her head; like a flower he would say in that cheesy yet completely serious way that only a doting dad could that would leave the rest of the room cringing.

“Have a good nap?” Ruby asked.

“Mmhm,” the girl mumbled back. She tugged the shirt down, trying to stretch the too small shirt down to cover her stomach. Whenever she stood straight the cloth would come up, exposing her belly button.

She lingered there by the door, distracting herself by messing with her shirt but kept sneaking glances up at Ruby. The workshop was off limits to her, after all, ever since Prim had snuck in and nearly cut herself on Crescent Rose. Jaune had freaked out a tad much about that in Ruby’s opinion, but it’s not like that rule applied if Ruby or Jaune were in the room.

“C’mere sweetie,” Ruby said, extending her arms out to her daughter.

Prim crossed the room in an instant, clambering into her mother’s arms to hook her chin over Ruby’s shoulder. Ruby stood in one fluid motion, bringing the girl up with her as Drei settled down on the floor for a nap of her own.

Ruby noticed something - someone - missing. “Where’s Pete?” Ruby asked. The girl took the stuffed bunny with her everywhere. It was a hand-me-down, the very one Jaune had as a boy that his mother had patched up for her granddaughter. Ruby was surprised she still had the thing. Would she end up being that crazy?

“Daddy still needed him,” she said, nuzzling further into her mother’s neck.

Go ahead and mark her down as crazy. Prim had both of her parents wrapped around her finger and neither cared. Ruby kissed the girl on the cheek and began to sway in place as she held her daughter.

Jaune must have fallen for Prim’s naptime trap. First she asks for a story. Then, a song. And for the finishing blow, she asks you in the sweetest voice imaginable to lie with her until she falls asleep. Before you know it you wake up three hours later and you’re half falling out of her tiny bed with a serious crick in your neck. Prim would usually still be there, waking up early but playing quietly by herself or fiddling with her parent’s scroll. It was scary how a girl so little could already navigate the device as well as her mom and dad.

“That was very sweet of you,” Ruby told her. “Daddy needs all the rest he can get for his big mission tomorrow.”

“Mission?” the girl asked, tightening her arms around Ruby’s neck. “Daddy’s turn?”

“Yup,” Ruby replied, “Daddy’s turn this time. It’s a reeeaaaaal short one though.”

---

Even before Primrose was born, Ruby and Jaune knew that they both couldn’t keep going on missions together full time. Though they had a near endless line of grandparents and aunts ready and willing (some aggressively so) to look after Prim while they were out on missions, it would be unfair to their daughter to leave her without her parents for the majority of the year. And if one of them stayed home with Prim while the other was out on a mission they’d be effectively cutting their income in half. They’d built up a nice nest egg over the years but between buying a home on Patch and Prim’s birth they’d be running dry in no time with only one of them getting paid at any given time.

Jaune confessed that he had been thinking about teaching for a while now, back when they spent most of their time out on missions together, only coming home to their crummy little apartment for the occasional recharge. He had even spoken with her father and Ren, who had started teaching himself at Haven years ago, about it without her knowing. It seemed like the perfect fit - they’d have a stable home for their daughter, be able to live comfortably financially, and Ruby would be able to dial down the number of missions she had to take on so she could be home more. They’d even have a couple months out of the year when school wasn’t in session where Jaune would be able to go on the occasional mission with Ruby. Not to mention the sweet, sweet benefits that the teaching staffs of huntsman academies got to enjoy. With the second salary and the dirt cheap healthcare, they’d finally be able to start adding to their family.

Leading up to and following Prim’s birth, Jaune worked towards getting his teaching license. Academics were never his strong suit but those days he rarely went long without a book in his hand, Prim often occupying his free arm. With Ren and her dad’s old study guides and Ruby’s surprise pop quizzes keeping him sharp, the written exam didn’t even slow him down.

Huntsman experience he had in spades, easily meeting standard mission requirements. The necessary teaching hours came easily too. He bounced back and forth between Signal and Beacon to observe and assist with classes and before long was escorting Beacon teams out on their school-directed missions. He earned his teaching license before Prim’s first birthday.

But there were no open positions at Signal or even at Beacon. Headmistress Goodwitch’s glowing endorsement brought offers from several other academies on other continents, none of which they would take. Patch was their home and they planned on keeping it that way.

For the next three years they kept doing exactly what they had tried to plan against - they took turns out in the field. When Ruby was away, Jaune was home. Thankfully, when Jaune was home he had opportunities to visit Beacon for work. Glynda Goodwitch, the scourge of their short time at Beacon, had become their savior, practically inventing temporary positions and jobs for Jaune to work around the academy to further beef up his resume and earn lien on the side. Goodwitch herself would watch Prim when Jaune was working at Beacon - the headmistress adored the girl and showed a tenderness that Ruby didn’t know a woman as tough as her could possess. Naturally, Beacon’s headmistress walking around campus with a blonde baby and meeting regularly with an equally blond temp teacher led to all sorts of embarrassing rumors that made Jaune the butt of many a joke once word reached their friends.

Her dad kept assuring her that once a spot opened, Jaune was guaranteed a teaching job at Signal. The current combat teacher, a hardened old lump of a woman, was the closest in age to retirement but showed no signs of stopping. She could still swing her staff for hours on end, busting the backsides of any student who thought they could give “grandma” a run for her money.

It was frustrating. They were getting by just fine but Ruby wanted more than ‘getting by.’ It felt like she only saw Jaune in passing, only ever in the house at the same time for a few days at most before one of them had to head out on another mission. She wanted her daughter to have the normal childhood she deserved and she wanted to give her a little brother or sister, maybe more. But with not enough money in the bank, especially not enough for her to stop working entirely if she were pregnant, they had no choice but to hold their current course.

But the end was in sight. The combat crone finally decided her time teaching the future huntsmen of Remnant was over and now she could spend her twilight years relaxing by traveling Remnant...with some Faunus dude young enough to be her grandson, according to her dad. Good going, granny.

So finally, finally, Jaune would get her spot. Tomorrow he’d board the bullhead to Argus to spend a week at Sanctum for a final assessment. He’d take the role of a full professor - teaching classes, grading papers, counseling students, the whole shebang, all while being observed by a third party. They had gone with Sanctum because it was a school he’d never visited before and they didn’t want to give the impression that he’d gotten the job at Signal based off family connections. Not that it mattered, really. Goodwitch said it was mostly formality at this point and, even if it weren’t, Ruby knew Jaune would pass with flying colors.

Professor Arc would soon be born and more Arcs would follow.

---

Ruby hummed happily as she shared an impromptu dance around the workshop with her daughter. In a week’s time things would be settled. She wondered if Prim would understand - as far as her daughter was concerned, Daddy already was a teacher.

Prim was fully awake now, sitting up taller in her mother’s arms. Ruby could feel her head turn this way and that depending on which way she danced and realized just what the girl was looking at. Ruby came to a stop in front of the workbench and watched as Prim shifted in her arms to get a better look at the disassembled Crescent Rose.

She’d worked on Crescent Rose in front of Prim before and it was hard to miss how enraptured the girl was with the process, asking an endless string of childish questions. Ruby couldn’t help the pride that bubbled up in her chest. Her daughter was on the road to becoming a weapon nerd.

“Wanna help Mommy put Crescent Rose back together?”

“I can?” the girl asked, eyes still glued to the weapon.

“Yup. But,” Ruby said, turning the girl to make sure they were looking each other in the eye. “You can only touch when I say you can. Okay?”

“Kay!” she exclaimed excitedly, rocking back and forth in her mother’s arms.

Laughing, Ruby nudged the chair closer to the table and set her daughter down, letting her stand on the seat. Prim immediately leaned forward, placing her hands on the table to get a better look. Her eyes darted from part to part, never able to stay still for long.

Ruby took her place next to Prim and placed a steadying hand on the girl’s back.

“Okay,” Ruby said, taking the upper receiver and bringing it closer for the girl to see. “What’s this?”

“The…” Prim paused, wracking her tiny brain for the made up word Ruby had taught her before. “Thingamabob!”

Ruby sucked air dramatically through her teeth in an exaggerated wince. “Oooo, so close! This is the thingamajig! This part over here is the thingamabob…”

Jaune slept most of the afternoon away while mother and daughter rebuilt Crescent Rose. One day Ruby would teach her the real names for each part and watch Prim put it back together again without help. Ruby might even, if Prim decided to follow her mother’s footsteps even further, help her build a weapon of her own. Or maybe she’d change her mind somewhere along the way and pick up some other calling, possibly something Ruby didn’t know the first thing about. 

Ruby couldn’t wait to find out.

[howrry]

forbidden fruit

a/n: i made something new! self indulgent high school enemies with benefits ok! i was high writing a lot of this so.. hope it doesn't show. tiny bit of 5sos sue me. this will probably have a pt 2 eventually

warnings: smut, and harry’s a jerk

w/c: 4.3k

You pushed the front door to your school open and the A/C of the building blew your hair back a little. You adjusted your bag on your shoulder and let the door slam behind you. The halls were loud with student chatting and lockers slamming and feet scuffling before first period began.

"I love your skirt, Y/N," one of the school aristocrats complimented, beaming a bright white smile.

"Thanks babe! From the boutique off 2nd street," you said with a wink.

"Hey Y/N!" some girls with wet hair called from the lockers. The volleyball team practiced before school and had to shower before going to class, and most girls couldn't be bothered to dry their hair.

"Hey guys! See you in history," you waved, tucking your textbook closer to your body.

You finally reached your locker and popped the door open. You switched out your books for your first class and checked your face in the mirror you'd taped to your locker door.

"You look great, no need to even look," a voice said from behind the door. You shut the door to reveal Luke, the school's star baseball player and one of your academic rivals.

He stood a bit taller than you, with his hands shoved into his bomber jacket pockets. The corners of your mouths curled up bashfully. "Aren't you sweet? What's going on, L?"

His head lulled over and rested on the locker. "Just wanted to say hi. And thanks for the help in trig-- you could've left me in the dust with that one to be valedictorian, and for that I'm very grateful."

You giggled. "It's no big, Luke. Let me know if you need help on other stuff, like your times tables," you teased, readjusting your bag again.

It was Luke's turn to laugh, but his was more hearty. "Ah, your banter is the highlight of my day." The bell rang, indicating it was time to go to class. "Saved by the bell. I was out of stuff to talk about. I'll catch you later?" It was a statement, but him walking away gave it a bit of in inflection. You were still smiling by the time you got to your first class.

Life was so good. You never understood where the stereotype about hating your high school years came from, because you were having quite a good time. You never found the curriculum too difficult and thus were near the top of your class, you were overall liked by your teachers, and you got along with everyone at your school.

"Good morning, babe," you heard a new voice call, making your insides shrivel and your face pinch.

Well, almost everyone.

"What do you want, Harry?" you groaned, intentionally pushing past him to get to your desk.

He feigned being hurt, clutching a ringed hand to his broad chest. "And I thought Bradley Cooper over there would have put you in a good mood this morning. Why so sour?"

"Being within even a hundred feet of you can kill flowers, no wonder it kills my mood."

Simply put, you couldn't stand Harry. He was arrogant, selfish, condescending, and for the past couple of years the two of you had been at each other's throats. Neither of you were quiet sure who started this feud (though, knowing Harry's behavior, it was probably his fault) but neither of you could even look at each other without making a biting remark or glaring at the other.

"Styles, get your feet off the desk," your teacher reprimanded. You looked at the desk next to you and saw Harry had kicked his boots up onto his table and laced his fingers behind his head.

He sighed heavily and slid his legs over lazily until they drop off the edge of the desk, choosing instead to lean his chin on the heel of his hand, one lone dark curl dropping into the center of his forehead.

As much as you couldn't stand his personality, you hated how attractive he was. He had such an aura of power that on some rare occasions rendered you speechless. Not only was he was gorgeous, but sometimes the two of you would make eye contact during an argument in class that would make your knees go a little weak. You were pretty good at keeping your composure, but it still bothered you from time to time. He was like forbidden fruit; so beautiful, yet so hate-able.

Today he was in a black jacket and dark jeans with a white t-shirt. Across his chest laid a simple cross necklace and his fingers were adorned with rings. His hair always looked like he just pushed it back with his hands and left it as is, but there's always one curl on his forehead giving him a Clark Kent kind of look. His head was cocked to the side, showing off his jaw. Son of a bitch probably didn't even realize how hot he was being-- that's just Harry in his natural state.

Then you were suddenly reminded that you were totally staring down Harry, and your eyes tore from him to the board in the front of the class. You made a note to yourself to get your thoughts and your life in general together.

Fortunately, you only had one class with Harry. For the rest of your day you could go about being yourself, without having to deal with his attitude and desire to annoy you in addition to your weird thoughts about how hot he is.

The next day, your car wouldn't start in the morning because of the cold front that swept over your area. Your parents had already left for work, and you were left with the only option of walking to school. You didn't live too far away, but the freezing weather made the walk miserable.

Perhaps Harry had sensed your already bad mood and decided not to make it worse, but he was actually quite tolerable during the school day. The rest of your school day went without incident, and you thanked the universe for being so kind to you after your rough morning.The walk home was slightly better, as the temp had warmed up a little bit, but the small remedy quickly ended when Harry rode up next to you walking down the sidewalk on a blue bicycle.

"Hey, Y/N," he chirped, immediately irking you. He pedaled slowly to match your walking pace.

"Should I call Harvard and let them know there's a strange kind of ape who learned to use a human tool?" you bit, shoving your hands in your jacket pockets.

"Mm. Seems like you've put on a little weight in these winter months," Harry noted.

You whipped your head and glared viciously at him. He was smirking a little but kept his eyes on the sidewalk. "So how am I supposed to respond to that other than punching you in the face?" you growled. Frankly, it wasn't even true-- your heavy coat just added a lot of volume to you. And even if it was true, how dare he?

He pretended to think. "You could start by taking off some of those clothes and proving me wrong."

"Ugh!" You grabbed a stick next to the sidewalk and jammed it into the spokes of Harry's slow moving bicycle, effectively snapping the branch and making him tumble off the bike.

He lied on the ground in a daze, blinking a couple of times before jumping up and catching up to you. "Alright. I deserved tha' one."

"Glad we agree about something," you muttered, then turn back to look at the abandoned bike. "What about your bike?"

He shrugged. "Wasn' mine anyways."

At this point you should expect this of him, or at least not be surprised when you hear about it, but you can't help but sigh. "Ah, right. Always forget you're a criminal."

He threw an arm around you, pulling you into his chest. It was awkward to walk like that, but you were just sure-footed enough to make it work. "'M a fun person to be around, though, aren' I?"

"On the contrary," you groaned, jerking your way out of his grip on you. "Actually, for someone who claims to hate me, you sure do bother me a lot. What's up with that?" you hissed.

He stopped in front of you and towered above you, staring down. This... was one of those times where your stomach flipped when his green eyes locked onto yours. "Well, am I annoying you?"

Your eyes rolled back almost involuntarily. "Yes!"

"That's why."

All you could do was glare. "Go find someone else to annoy, I have to go study for a midterm tomorrow. Ya know, that thing you've never heard of because you don't care about school or anything, for that matter." At this point you were just unleashing random things you didn't like about him, but it still felt good to vent.

"I care about some things," he said bluntly, raising and dropping his shoulders.

You scoffed a bit, but then sighed in defeat. "Glad you took something important from that. Now please, fuck off for the rest of the week." Before Harry could counter that, you'd already slipped past him and went back home.

That Thursday, after school had ended and you were getting things out of your locker as the halls quickly emptied of the eager-to-leave students. You'd nailed the exam you'd taken that day and were ready to go home and enjoy the rest of your day. A friendly voice said your name, and you glanced up to see Luke.

You smiled at his presence. "Hey L!"

"So, Y/N," Luke began. "Some of my friends and I were wondering if you like to party." He flattened his hands against each other and pointed them at you.

A little laugh escaped from your lips. "Uh, yeah, I do. Why, are you offering one?" One of your eyebrows shot up in curiosity.

The corners of his mouth lifted a bit and he leaned his shoulder against the locker next to yours. "Actually, yeah. We throw this cool rager every year after midterms. Josh's parents always go skiing in the Poconos and leave us the house, and his older brother buys us so much alcohol. It's a good way to kick off winter break, and you should totally co--" Luke was cut off by none other than fucking Harry marching up.

"Luke. Coach Bass needs you," he spat, eyeing the athlete up and down.

"What for?" Luke asked, irritated.

"Fuck do I look like? Your secretary? He didn't tell me, just saw me and asked to find you. Which, mind you, was generous enough on my part." Harry punctuated his sentence with his big arms crossing over his chest.

"Can it wait like 5 minutes? I'm trying to have a conversation here," Luke gritted, gesturing at you.

Harry's eyes drifted over, as if he hadn't even realized you were standing there until then. Without looking back to Luke, he muttered, "Nope. Think yeh should leave now."

The blonde boy groaned and stood up off the wall. "Fine. See you around, Y/N, I'll text you about the party!" he called, waving goodbye and headed off to the coach's office.

"The hell are you doing talking to 'im?" Harry questioned the second Luke was out of ear range. He replaced his spot leaning on the lockers.

"Not really any of your business, is it?" you snapped back. You couldn't even look at him, so you grabbed all your books out of your locker.

Harry caught on quickly. "Oh... I see. Yeh don't wanna be messin' with him, love," he advised with a small smirk on his lips.

"What are you talking about?" you asked, exasperated.

"Heard he's been seeing Sierra lately." Harry rolled from leaning against his shoulder to leaning on his back, staring across the hallway.

You stopped your movements. "What does that have to do with me? That's her business."

His head lulled back to look at you. "Jeez, Y/N. Didn't think you'd be fine dating a two-timer."

"Who said anything about dating?" It was your turn to smirk, giving Harry a little glint in your eyes before slamming your locker shut and walking away from him.

Harry's eyes widened as he chased after you. "Yeh little minx. Perfect little Y/N doesn't mind being the other woman. Or any woman at all. Who woulda thought?"

You rolled your eyes. "See. You don't know shit about me. And you definitely don't know shit about Luke. What were you even doing near Coach Bass's office in the first place for him to have asked you?"

He snickered. "Oh, I lied. I think Bass already went home."

Your jaw dropped a little as the two of you reached the door at the end of the hallway. "You little scoundrel. Why did you do that?"

He shrugged, following you outside. "I lie to get things I want. I wanted him gone. This isn't uncommon for my behavior, Y/N," he explained without emotion. "Anyways, 've got to meet up with someone soon. Great talking to you," he concluded sarcastically, before simply turning and walking away.

"Hey Harry!" you called after him, making him stop and do a 180. "Is Luke even really seeing Sierra?"

He smiled. "Nope." Harry turned again leaving you with a swirl of emotions.

The party had been on Friday, the night after Luke invited you. Your parents were glad you were finally getting to relax after your obsessive studying for the past week or so. You excitedly got ready to go while listening to Break Up With Your Girlfriend, I'm Bored, and made plans for a DD to drop you off and pick you up at the end of the night.

You were just tugging on your short boots and fluffing your hair when you got the text that it was time to go. One jacket, a quick wave to your parents drinking wine on the couch, and you were off.

By the time you finally arrived to the party it was late in the evening and the house was bumping. The lights inside had been replaced like blacklights, turning everyone's white clothes into ultra bright purple and some girls' bad bleach jobs appeared green.

You showed up just in time; and by just in time, you mean when Mo Bamba started playing and all the people dancing and screaming the lyrics provided a good cover for you to sneak around the house to find someone you knew. You fought your way through the hot living room, back to the kitchen where freshman sorority girls from the local university were trying to steal alcohol from kids, to the backyard.

You opened the door to the back porch to find a group of seniors passing around a bent joint. Your nose instinctively wrinkled at the smell and you bounce back inside, slamming the door behind you.

"Y/N!" you heard Luke call. You whirled around to see him holding a cup in one hand and a Juul in the other, arms extended to hug you. He engulfed you and you breathed in the cologne clinging to his jersey. You couldn't lie... he smelled good. "Glad you made it. Can I make you something to drink?"

"Vodka soda, please," you requested, and Luke poured out a drink for you. Meanwhile, you scanned the room to see who else had come to the party.

Hmm. There was Andrea from trig, the host, Josh, Hannah from chemistry, Lucy, Sam, Harry, Claudia from English. You cocked your head a little, surprised that Claudia partied, and Luke handed you your drink.

Wait. Your head whipped back to see Harry talking to one of his friends, and his attention drifted towards you with a devious smile. When he realized who you were with his smile was replaced with a grimace.

You immediately start drinking from your cup, trying to forget who you just saw. Nearly half the drink was gone before Luke stopped you. "Slow down, there, cowgirl," he laughed, taking the red cup from you. "You drinking away your problems or what?" he teased.

You rolled your eyes flirtatiously, and intentionally avoided his question. "Give me my drink back! Or we will have a problem."

"Feisty," Luke noted, handing you your cup back. "Redirect that energy to dancing," he suggested, gesturing over to where everyone was bouncing to the music. He grabbed your free hand and pulled you into the middle of the crowd where the two of you started dancing... pretty close. The music was well selected so that there were no awkward pauses in between songs, and you and Luke danced until your drinks were empty and you were too sweaty to keep dancing.

He led you to a corner of the living room, where not as many people were. "Damn, it's dead," he declared after pulling his Juul out of his pocket and tapping it twice. "My charger's upstairs, I'm gonna go plug this in."

"I'll go with you," you offered, trying to get out of the party area and away from Harry. God knows how he'd try to bug you if you were alone.

Something in Luke's eyes glinted, but he nodded and the two of you trudged up the stairs and the noise quickly died down. He casually walked into a room and you guessed it was the host's room. Luke plugged in his Juul and plopped down on the bed.

"So, do you wanna go back downstairs?" you guessed, though Luke appeared too comfortable to be getting up any time soon.

"Nope," he responded casually, affirming your suspicions. "Can you do me a favor? Hand me that guitar." He pointed to the corner of the room, where a shiny guitar was nestled in a stand.

You passed the instrument to him and he began plucking out the song Twin Sized Mattress. He hummed some of the lyrics and dropped off just after the first guitar solo. You were amazed while watching him.

"Luke! You're so talented, I had no idea!" you fawned, making the blonde boy blush a little.

"Thanks, that means a lot. I've always loved playing but never told anyone so I wouldn't look like a hipster or anything. But honestly, I wanna be a musician." His eyes gazed over the strings, then up to yours.

"Sounds like a glamorous lifestyle. Think you could handle it?" you cooed, leaning in slightly.

He matched your movements. "I think I could," he practically purred. You and Luke were inches from kissing, and all you wanted to do was close the gap, but you were unfortunately interrupted by the door swinging open, making you jump back from Luke, frightened.

None other than fucking Harry, stood in the doorway. You groaned and Luke blurted annoyedly, "You again?!"

"Yep, s'me. I'd love to verbally have it out with you some other time, but I'd like to talk to Y/N right now, so find somewhere else to be, Wonderwall," Harry announced, filling your veins with anger.

"Seriously, Harry? You can't leave me alone for five fucking minutes?" you jumped up to face him, but any attempt at being menacing was futile as his sheer height dwarfed you.

Luke placed the guitar on the ground leaning on the wall and awkwardly creeped out of the room. "I'll, uh, I'll just go," he noted before slipping out.

But you weren't distracted by Luke ambling around, and still had a bone to pick with Harry. "You follow me around, you go to parties you know I'll be at, you interrupt my attempts to get laid. Why won't you just go away!"

The corners of his mouth curled up. "Because you're so cute when you're angry." He reached up to pinch your cheek but you smacked his hand away.

"You make me so mad I wanna slap you sometimes," you huffed, shrugging your shoulders.

Harry's green eyes rolled dramatically. "Yeh won't." Several heavily silent seconds passed, and the palm of your hand collided with his cheek.

His hand drifted up and cupped his red face. "Did yeh just fuckin' slap me?" he asked, in awe.

"Yeah," you deadpanned. "You stupid or something?"

Harry stared at you, his eyes not showing much emotion other than shock. Without even saying anything, he lunged forward, grabbed your face with both of his large hands, and pressed your lips together. Your knees immediately buckled, Harry's scent infinitely better than Luke's. His mouth was so soft and he easily kissed into your mouth, licking and biting at you.

You came to your senses, trying to pull away, but Harry had his arms wrapped around you. You made a move to escape his grasp, only making him tighten around you. "Stop being so scared of what yeh really want, Y/N," Harry huffed, eyes scanning all over your confused face.

"What?" was all you could say.

"Tell me yeh don' want this, n'I'll stop." His eyebrows lifted slightly, in almost an amused manner. You really, really, really hated yourself to say it, but you didn't want this to stop. So you closed the gap between you two yourself.

When Harry kissed, there was no option of being gentle. He wanted to devour you, kissing so deeply your back was starting to tilt backwards a little and you could feel the electricity on your lips.

"Yeh're a real minx, yeh know tha'?" he huffed over your lips in between kisses. "Actin' so cute and innocent when yeh're really a good time and a half. Trailin' around school and parties with that other guy. Then, when I kiss the life out of yeh and make y'weak in the knees, you've got the audacity to act like you 'aven't wanted this all along. Hmm," he tsked, staring down at you, making you feel tiny. "I truly believe the only way I can get yeh to behave is to fuck yeh into bein' good," Harry hypothesized, staring up and down your body until settling for staring at your heaving chest (and you were glad you picked a good bra to wear to this party).

His words sent sparks to your core and a whimper left your lips when he pressed his against your neck, licking and sucking at the soft flesh. One hand gripped your waist, bunching up your shirt with his fingers.

"S'that what you want? To be silenced with m'cock?" he mused, breath fanning across your skin. All you could do was nod and you felt his mouth curl into a smile. "Fine. But keep quiet, pet, we don' wanna disturb the other party goers. Do we, now?" he purred, making you shake your head no.

Harry's hips bucked into your thigh involuntarily, and you dropped down to your knees to be eye level with his crotch. Your nimble fingers ghosted over the zipper of his pants, making him exhale shakily, but when you lifted your gaze to his, his face was extremely focused on your actions.

You decided not to beat around the bush and popped open the button on his trousers, and the zipper practically undid itself. You licked him through his black boxers, making him groan a little and thread his ringed fingers through the hair on the back of your head. It was easy to read what he needed, so you pulled down the elastic of his underwear to free his cock.

It was big. You weren't a stranger to seeing big dicks, so you knew one when you saw one. The last thing you wanted to do was feed into his ego, so you dove into sucking it before he could read any surprise in your face.

You went about as far down as his head resting on the middle of your tongue. You sucked around his cock and fluttered your tongue, stimulating the super sensitive spot on the bottom just below the head. Harry was nothing if not responsive, and groaned while trying to push you down further using his big hand. Normally you would refuse and take it at your own pace, but something about him fucking your mouth sent even more sparks to your center.

You relaxed your throat and let him slide down your throat. It burned, you had to admit, and breathing through your nose with a huge cock in your mouth is no picnic. Just before you were about to gag, he pulled you off his member and let you breathe for a second. A thin strand of spit connected your now red and puffy bottom lip to the tip of his cock.

"Fuck, pet, tha' feels way better than I'd like to admit," he huffed as you took him back in your mouth again. You swirled your tongue around him with your cheeks hollowed out, your comparatively small hand gripped the base while you paced yourself. When your jaw got tired from accommodating to his size, you stroked him from base to tip.

Harry was starting to lose his composure; you could see it in his eyes. You decided to play all your cards and made the most innocent look you could muster with his cock buried between your lips. "'f yeh keep lookin' at me like tha', no chance I'll last."

So you went wild, licking, sucking, stroking his cock with your hand, pushing it all the way down your throat until your nose was buried in the coarse dark curls at the base. This sent him fully over the edge, and his grip in your hair was tighter than ever as he came.

He emptied himself down your throat, pulled his cock out, and wiped the head on your lips before pushing himself back into his boxers.

"Wait, wha--" you stammered, shocked at his sudden motions to leave as you were still on your knees with glassy eyes.

Harry rebuttoned his pants and straightened himself out. "'m going to go home. Thank you for helping me out, love, I'd love to reciprocate another time. Let me know." He nodded at you scrambling to stand back up and left you in Josh's room with pink cheeks, puffy lips, and a racing mind.