#mostly-- i pulled it into sai for colours but yeah

[demi-pixellated]

a redesign: to sate my personal sensibilities

[suuooe]

-- Touch deprived boys

✧ or: touch- or not so touch deprived wind breaker boys ✧ featuring: Sakura Haruka, Suo Hayato, Umemiya Hajime, Hiragi Toma & Kaji Ren x gn!reader [separate] ✧ content: established relationship & fluff ✧ a/n: i dropped one suo fic and got busy the same week and fell ill the next week lmfao. hiragi may be a bit ooc - ya know when you know how the characters act and how they are in theory, but can't articulate that in your works? yeah. yeah. this is not proofread we post this without beta-reading like real men.

Sakura doesn't register the feeling at first. To be more precise, he doesn't know what the feeling is at all when it first appears.

I imagine Sakura having a significant other that's the polar opposite to him when it comes to physical touch - as in they would 100% at any given moment when they're together hold any part of Sakura that they come in contact with. (This boy cannot for the life of him shake off anyone he deems close away, grab his hand and lead him on and he will 100% complain the entire way, but he'll never shake off your hand)

Which means that ever since he did start to date you, he wouldn't even know the meaning of what touch deprivation even is - because not a day goes by when you're not touching him some part of him.

So when a day actually comes when you're not holding onto him, he feels genuinely put off. Something is wrong, but he can't put his finger on it. And oh boy does that clearly show on his face. Sakura is after all - an open book when it comes to his feelings.

He's moody, he doesn't snap and yell like usual - but he only mutters answers back whenever someone asks him something. Even to you - if anything, you would think he's mad at you. He's fidgeting with his hands, tugging at his sleeves and averting his gaze from you whenever you ask if he's okay.

He's an open book yeah, but he won't say a damn thing - pride and all.

It'll most likely be in a scenario where you're surrounded by more people than usual that you hold back a bit on showing affection. But still, you're mostly by his side, talking to him, handing him drinks and heck your shoulders brush against each other every time you laugh at something his classmate had said - you're that close to him.

And yet it feels wrong.

"Oh, Haruka your drink is empty. Want me to go grab another one?" you're not even waiting for an answer before you lean away from the wall behind you to head towards the refreshments table on the other side of the rooftop.

It's only when your presence once again leaves his side that Sakura springs into action, reaching out to barely grasp the fabric of your shirt to hold you slightly back. Puzzled, you turn around with a confused smile, only to be met with an equally confused, but frantic stare from your lover. "Everything okay, Haruka?" you ask again, ignoring the fact that Haruka's gaze is looking all over the place but at your own face.

"Y-yeah, why wouldn't it be?" although he says that, his hand is still grasping onto your shirt. A few seconds go by in silence before you feel a slight tug against them - and suddenly every dot in your confused brain starts to connect on his bizarre behaviour today.

Your eyes soften, and Sakura can hear your quiet chuckle when you turn around to face him, forcing his fingers to let go. But before he can ask what you're laughing about, he can feel himself being pulled into a hug, and he can feel your smile against his shoulders as you pat his back comfortably. "You're so cute, Haruka." he can hear you say through your quiet giggles.

You can hear a quiet "Shut up…" from him, but you can feel the way his posture drastically softens under your hug. But before your duo-coloured lover could wrap his arms around your waist, you hear a low whistle coming from behind you. "Naaw, Sakura-kun was missing [Name]'s touch for the day."

And in an instant you're yanked (gently) away by an arms length with Sakura yelling profanities at a laughing Suo. Well at least he's back to normal.

Suo's never "deprived" per say of your touch - because he's the one initiating it 90% of the time.

He's already physically affectionate. He's usually seen having an arm around your waist when you're peering at something, holding your hand when the two of you go for a walk or leaning over you when you're standing still to rest his chin on top of your head (if you're shorter, if not he'll bury his face into the crook of your neck).

And while you don't mind (in fact often times you lean most of your weight on him if he's standing behind you once you feel his presence) Suo does want you to initiate contact once in a while.

But alas those feelings is rarely shown on his face, always sporting a neutral smile to any situation he's put in - no one can tell that he's a bit more troubled than usual.

But what kind of lover would you be, if you weren't able to spot these miniscule changes in Suo? When he now only briefly holds onto your waist to silently announce his presence beside you before retracting his arm back and when he waits for your fingers to graze against his own before he tangles them together?

You do notice, and Suo also knows you've noticed the slight difference in your otherwise normal habits. How you peer up at him a bit longer than usual when he decides to sit next to you in the library instead of behind you like he usually does so you can rest against him. But he only gives you a wide smile in return to your confused glance.

"You know-" you say with a start, seating yourself down on Suo's lap the moment he seats himself down properly on the tatami floor of his room, your lover only wrapping an arm around your back to make sure you don't topple over. "This is a very elaborate way to tell me you want me to initiate physical contact more often."

"Hmm? Whatever do you mean?" he feigns ignorance, merely tilting his head slightly to the side when you twirl your fingers around the tassels of his left earring whilst resting your head against his shoulder. "Why can't you just ask like any other person for a hug or something?" you question.

"That wouldn't be fun. I wanted to see if you loved the physical touch as much as me, after all." he says, and you raise your eyebrow in confusion, "Me not reciprocating your touches was not an answer?" you inquire, raising your head to stare at him, Suo only giving you a smile that seems a bit too mischievous back while shaking his head.

"Initiating and reciprocating are two different things, dear. Initiating takes a lot more courage after all." you only hum in return, resting your head back on his shoulder before taking a hold of his hand to toy with his fingers, bending the appendages while admiring how smooth his skin was - even with all the fighting he does. "I like it when you initiate contact first though…" you murmur in the end. Suo, who had initially thought you had put the matter of his impromptu idea to the side hums in surprise at your quiet confession.

"Why?"

You shrug, deciding to intertwine your fingers together before resting them on your own lap, smiling softly at how Suo's thumb brush against the skin of your hand. "I don't know either. I just know that it's you whenever someone takes a hold of my hand, you do have the habit of grazing your fingers against mine before holding them after all. It's almost like your way of saying hello before we even make eye contact." you tell, "You always reach out for my hand first after all."

You're not staring at him, still busy looking at your clasped hands - but he still smiles down at your form, turning his head to press his lips on top of your head. "Well with such a sweet reason, who am I to not initiate it more then, hmm?"

He makes it known that he wants your touch before you can even tell he's deprived.

Which means he's never deprived, because when Umemiya feels that he needs a hug, he's making a beeline towards you to engulf you in his arms.

Which means there are two outcomes to this. If you're within his sights and he sees you as soon as he wants a hug, everything is A-OK! Umemiya gets his well needed hug to tackle the next set of duties and tasks he has set for himself for the next 3 hours.

If you're not in his arms within the next 10 minutes of him wanting a hug, he's going to talk to his plants like you've gone off to war and won't come back before the next year. Talking about how much he misses your presence, your favourite food, what kind of seed you would probably prefer, how he's found a new book that you love. At this point feel sorry for the person that has to sit through those 10 minutes of constant love declarations. (Hiragi)

And yes, Hiragi has you on speed dial because of this. It does not matter that you've recently been up on the rooftop spending time with him, it does not matter if you've just gone downtown to get some drinks - Hiragi does not get paid enough for this and he will personally escort you back to Bofurin's leader to make him shut up.

You better clear your schedule for the next hour because Umemiya will have you in his arms before making sure you're well fed and spend time with you. He doesn't necessarily have to constantly touch you then - if he can see you within his vision he's already beaming brighter than the sun in the sky.

"Hajime, you're about to squeeze my entire air supply out." you manage to wheeze out while laughing, Umemiya merely burying his face further into your hair while swinging you back and forth in the air.

"You could've told me that you were going to go shop for groceries for Kotoha! I would've helped." he exclaimed whilst putting your down on the ground again, though his arms were still snugly wrapped around your waist and still keeping you pressed against his front. Your own arms around his back when you noticed that he wouldn't budge from this position anytime soon.

"Last time you helped out, you crushed 2 dozens eggs remember? The townsfolk love you too much too, we would've needed more hands if you came along because of the amount of freebies they would give you. Besides she just wanted a few things and I was already out when she asked where I was, so it wasn't too much trouble to make another round through the town." you replied, stepping side to side while pushing yourself against Umemiya, a silent request for him to move backwards towards the wooden canopy so you both could sit down.

Once seated, you find yourself placed on top of Umemiya's lap with his arms still snugly wrapped around your waist, securing your body close to his own when you lean backwards to properly look at him while talking. At this point Umemiya has gone off tangent, eyes brimming with excitement over what had happened on the day you had mentioned the crushed eggs, only stopping his tangent when you bring a handkerchief up to his face to wipe away the dirt.

"… How long have you been in that position?" an exasperated gruff voice questions, and both you and Umemiya turn over to the entrance of the rooftop to see Hiragi leaning against the door.

"Hiragi! You want some water? Maybe some onigiri? Oh right, [Name] had also picked up some snacks!"

"It's been 15 minutes."

"Good grief, Umemiya, let [Name] go aleady, they're not your personal teddy bear."

Hiragi in general is not a physically affectionate person. He doesn't mind it, softens quite a bit when you grasp his hand whenever you join his group when they patrol the town and relaxes his posture while sinking further down the slope of the couch so that you can rest your head on his shoulder - even if the posture itself causes him a bit of discomfort after.

He's quite content just having you walk by his side - as long as he can see you from his peripheral vision or heck, just hear your voice speak from beside him or behind him, he's content.

He does however have his moments. Although it's incredibly hard to spot because Hiragi himself doesn't mind going days without getting a kiss even.

And even when you do initiate the first touch, he handles you like a porcelain doll - almost afraid you will break. You can hug him as tight as you can, he'll laugh and say he's not going to disappear anytime soon, but the hug you receive back is so gentle and full of love it almost brings you to tears alone.

Hiragi is aware of his position within Bofurin, and the fact that his name carries a lot of weight and is known beyond the town - as such he initiates the most contact when you're alone. And even that is a rare occurrence being that you're both busy most of the time.

As such, even though it's rare - Hiragi will show subtle signs that he wants to cradle you within his arms or hold your hand. A gentler gaze when he addresses you - a more carefree grin when you open your arms wide waiting for him to come to you, but even you can see the slight hesitation.

All in all, Hiragi is quite content and rarely gets touch deprived, but no one is immune to their lover asking for a quick hug, even when you yourself isn't much of a physically affectionate person.

"Can I have a hug? Please?" Hiragi blinks slowly in confusion, takes a look behind him before directing his attention to you. "… Did you have to ask me in a sketchy alleyway of all things?" he finally asks, which makes you laugh, hands still outstretched waiting for Hiragi to take the 2 steps to reach you.

"And here I thought I was going to get a lecture from dragging you away from patrolling." you say, now wriggling your fingers to emphasise your current need for a hug from your boyfriend. "Think of it like an energy boost for the day! I know you've been craving a hug from yours truly for a long time after all, it's been a while since your last recharge!" you add on, Hiragi quirking an eyebrow with a smile.

"You're keeping track of them now?" he scoffs, taking the two steps you desperately wanted him to take, reaching out his own hands to intertwine them with your own before holding onto your wrists to rest your arms on his shoulders. "Hehe, next time I should keep track on how many Gas-kun 10 you take." you can see the roll of his eyes as he wraps his arms around your waist while you lock your own arms around his neck, rubbing your face into his neck to breathe in the faint hint of cologne he dons each day.

The arms wrapped around your waist tightens a bit more than usual, and you can feel the stiffness of Hiragi's form loosen "You're on your lunch break?" he asks softly, to which you nod against his neck, "Mhm, have to go back within 10 minutes if I don't want my teacher to give me an earful again." he hums, giving you one last squeeze before stepping back.

He only pinches your puffed out cheeks, "Don't give me that look, I'll come pick you up after school okay? I think Umemiya misses talking to you as well." Upon hearing that, your eyes brighten immediately before skipping past him out of the alleyway, "Promise to not be late?"

"When have I ever been?"

Another boy who does not know how to function when he's touch deprived! But unlike Sakura, he does know when he is indeed needing for some more cuddles than normal.

But he's awkward, he doesn't know how to actually go on about asking for hugs. Yes in his mind it's logical to just straight up ask you for a hug, or if you can just sit in front of him so he can lean his forehead on the nape of your neck and just breathe in your fragrance. Very easy to do!

Easier said than done. Especially when he's the type to not do anything before you give him permission - yes he's still scared of hurting you even though when he's around you, he's fully in control of his emotions and reactions. But there's always a lingering feeling, you know?

Still jumps in surprise at times when you graze your fingers against any exposed part of his skin, but once he sees it's you - best believe he's holding onto you till someone calls him out.

He's more prone to initiate more contact when you're alone, being that in public he's prone to get teased (whether that's voluntarily by his classmates or involuntarily by Umemiya's comments on how soft he's gotten)

So as a compromise to his awkward self when you're in public, you'll get random visits from Kaji numerous times a week - which is a silent request to just have you in his arms.

Kaji's attention is taken away from his phone when he feels your fingers graze against his chin. Glancing down, he cocks his head to the side while pushing his headphones down to rest on the nape of his neck. "What's up?" he inquires softly, you don't say anything at first - merely directing your fingers towards his cheeks to graze against his skin there.

"Weren't you supposed to patrol today?" you ask, bringing your other free hand to push Kaji's hand that's holding onto his phone to your eye level. "In around 15 minutes yeah, I just left earlier." he answers, his fingers that were absentmindedly stroking your head grazing a few stray strands away from your forehead.

"It already takes 10 minutes from Furin to my house though? Shouldn't you leave soon?" you point out, but instead of rising from his lap to let him get up from the floor, you merely roll to your side to bury your face against his stomach before becoming still - leaving Kaji with both arms in the air, waiting for you to move.

"If you let me go, that is." he finally says after a second of silence, he can feel your slight nod before you plant your hands beside him to heave yourself up from his lap. And in the blink of an eye, you're at eye level with Kaji - his breath hitching at the close proximity.

"Don't come back with too many bruises, alright?" you remind, before slotting your lips briefly over his own. As you lean back you pull his headphones snugly over his ears again, mouthing something that makes Kaji roll his eyes. "You still let me inside regardless, so that threat doesn't work anymore."

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

older brother touya au !!, touya dyed his hair like once, scratching but not shigi level lol, touya has a motorcycle cus he's cool like that..pls don't ask it's just cool. asshat endeavor, big bro touya on top !! and maybe slightly ooc but he already is since hes big bro touya lol, uber touchy bubbly reader, hurt/comfort, lmk if i missed sum else !

on the first day at your new school, you immediately notice shouto. mostly because he's the only one in your class with different coloured eyes. you don't get much time to dwell on him, because you still have to introduce yourself to your classmates.

when break rolls around you're alone. it's not like this was new to you, but you're interested in the one other boy who's alone too. the boy from earlier with the different coloured hair and eyes. you can't help but wonder who his favourite hero is. that's always something people want to talk about. would it be all might ? he's always everyone's favourite. his favourite colour would probably be blue..or maybe green ?

you have to find out, so you march up to where he's sitting alone by the swings.

"hi !" you chirp, offering him your widest smile. he doesn't smile back, seeming a little startled. woops, maybe you were a little too loud. his eyes look even cooler up close.

"i'm yn !" you say, just a little bit quieter this time. he keeps observing you, recovering from his earlier surprise. "i know, i heard. in class." he responds, you blink at him.

"i didn't think you were listening. you were lookin' out the window and stuff, so.." he keeps inspecting you, he's quieter than you are for sure. he decides to simply not respond to you, continuing to slowly rock back and forth on the swing. suddenly, you get an idea for a new topic.

"say, do you know how to swing on your own ?" you bounce over to the swing next to him. his eyes follow you and they widen thinking of your question. slowly, he shakes his head. you beam, a lightbulb rises above your head. " i know how !" you boast, slightly proud to see his eyebrows raise.

the dual haired boy blinks "i didn't know you could do that." he says it a little airily, like it was truly unbelievable to him. you feel your chest burn a bit, you grip onto the bars of the swings and kick your feet.

"then how come you're sitting on the swings alone ?"

he thinks, then shrugs as a response. you don't mind, taking this as your cue to act. you pull yourself backwards as far as you can looking to see if the boy with the cool eyes follows your movements. he does, so you continue until you’re far enough and lift your feet off the ground, jumping onto your seat. kicking your legs forwards and back to gain momentum, you giggle at the air wooshing past your skin.

"you do it like this, see ?" you speak a bit louder, since you're swinging higher and higher. you briefly see him nod and then he's copying your previous actions. he gets the hang of it in a few seconds but he's still a little lower than you, so you drag your legs against the floor, that way you're going at the same speed. "see, it's super easy !" he looks at you again, but you think you see the lightest of smiles on his face.

"yeah." he responds simply, but his voice is just a bit louder so he's sure you hear him. and it makes you smile harder. after a bit of swinging you ask him his name, "shouto" he says. you can't help but think it sounds cool, so you tell him so. he looks a little confused, but he nods in thanks anyway.

you drag your sneakers against the floor to stop and launch off of your seat. you land almost perfectly, stumbling a little towards the end, but you quickly recover. shouto, the boy with the cool different coloured eyes and hair looks intrigued as he slows down too, but prefers to stay seated. you hop over to his swing, gripping onto the bars right above his hands and grin at him. shouto looks surprised, you want to see him smile again like before, except wider.

"hey, shouto. who's your favourite hero ?"

before you, shouto's never had any friends. so he's never had to feel what it was like to be ignored by one.

you're the first person who'd ever asked him who his favourite hero was, and he'd told you his was all might. he still doesn't know why you laughed about it, everyone likes all might.

you talking to him your first day of school made him realise how different you both were. you were way more outgoing than he was on his first day, but even then he never bothered to talk to his classmates. he'd been okay with that, but shouto doesn't like the idea that most likely, if you hadn't talked to him, if you hadn't taught him how to swing by himself, he never would've talked to you. because he wants to talk to you all the time, even if you don't want to talk to him.

after break and your argument, you return to class. you're sitting next to him in class due to assigned seating. you'd been happy about it at first, because now you were desk buddies and he could help you with problems you didn't understand. but now it's like you're practically sitting in the next class over. you act like he doesn't exist, it feels like you've pushed your chair the furthest possible from him. shouto can tell you're having trouble with some problems the teacher gave you, and you're supposed to work with your desk buddies for these, but you keep tucking your arm over your notebook and glaring at him. it feels like when the sun is beaming in his eyes, he doesn't like it.

you don't wait for him anymore when the bell rings. you don't stomp your feet excitedly and grip his hand to walk out of the gates with him, you don't tell him you'll see him tomorrow. you just shove your pencil case and your notebook and you trudge off away from him even as is hangs out of your bag. shouto realizes it then, that he's being ignored. and when he does, he's finished packing his bag neatly, not like usual when he's rushing just a bit because you're waiting and he wants to hold your hand. he takes his time. and when he does he can't move for a while. it doesn't feel normal not being with you. he's only snapped out of it when his teacher asks him if there's a problem. he shakes his head, and walks out of class dragging his feet a bit.

natsu-nii came to pick him up today. shouto stays quiet when he asks him how school went. his older brother offers him his hand, but he doesn't take it, he only wants to hold yours. they walk home in silence while shouto grips his bag.

getting ignored sucks.

"knock, knock."

shouto looks up to see his older brother touya, standing in the doorway of his room. the boy visibly brightens up, focus on him homework now gone. he doesn't smile visibly, but it looks like his eyes smile in a weird way only shouto’s could. and just because it's him, touya thinks it's a little sweet.

"hi." the boy's voice is a bit quieter than it usually would be, it makes the worry in the older's chest grow. he tries not to look too suspicious, tired eyes gazing around the room. "mind if i come in ?" he asks, to which his younger brother responds with a shake of his head.

touya settles down in front of his younger brother, sitting cross legged and resting his face in his palm. shouto hadn't talked about what had upset him when he got back home from school. blazer still neatly tucked in, hair still the same as when he was sent off. touya finds it ironic that that was alarming. shouto had walked off to his room looking gloomy, not saying a word to anyone and not coming to eat dinner even after he was told it would be his favourite. even their father found it strange, opting to leave him alone for once.

touya guessed it probably had something to do with him getting pulled out of school though. he holds back a scoff, of course the old bastard told him.

"hey.." he leans in a bit closer to his brother and talks in a hushed voice, looking around the room to sell the act. shouto tilts his head in confusion, his eyes slowly widen when his brother pulls out tiny fruit candies from his pocket, the oldest smirks "look what i got."

still a bit weary, shouto whispers as well to answer "i'm not supposed to..father said that.." he trails off, pouting to himself.

"what that old fart doesn’t know won't hurt him right ?" he taunts, nudging the treats in his hands towards the little boy. shouto smiles at the nickname used for his father, and finally takes one of the candies, popping one in his mouth as his brother does the same.

"how was school ?" touya asks after a minute, shouto visibly slumps, drawing little shapes on his homework sheet. touya's eyebrows furrow. "no good ?" wordlessly, shouto shakes his head.

"i know i'm not going anymore." the white haired boy sighs, shoulders slouching as his hunch was proven correct. "i heard you and the nanny talk about it."

"oh shit, you did ?"

"swear." shouto dodges, touya can't hide the roll of his eyes. "yeah, sorry, sorry.. you heard me ?"

the boy nods, "did yn get sad when you told her ?" at that, he frowns, bangs in his face but touya clearly sees his little lower lip wobble.

"yn said she wanted to get married. and i said okay, but then i said i didn't wanna anymore..and she got mad at me."

"oh yeah ?" he nods again, the movements of his pencil against his work sheet stop. he speaks so sadly, in a way touya has never heard his brother speak besides when he'd come to him crying at night and when their mother was taken away.

"she said she hates me."

touya feels his heart break. shouto's always been his weird little brother ever since he was born. he was ten years old when shouto had popped out and honestly back then he was weird too. he was pudgy and loud, and he always had this weird little look on his face, fuyumi would tell him that he was just copying the look touya would give him. but that was stupid, he didn’t look that ugly.

but then his weirdo little brother started crawling over to him, started toddling his little feet in touya's direction constantly the moment he managed to drag himself up on his two feet. pudgy little hands reaching out for him even as he pushed him away. and then he'd fall straight on his face and instead of crying he'd just..try again. reaching for his older brother with his big weird two coloured eyes and drooley mouth. touya knew he'd get in trouble if his brother fell over again and he ended up with a mark on his big forehead.

so begrudgingly, he let his brother cling onto him. and he keeps doing it at eleven, and thirteen because he'd get in trouble for pushing his little brother around. but as he reached fifteen, sixteen and seventeen, he could admit that he kind of liked being the favourite. the one his youngest brother always ran up to quicker and quicker the better he learned to walk. he liked being the oldest that his youngest brother could rely on to let him cling to.

he likes being touya-nii, the coolest older brother in the world in the drawing shouto had given him once. it was crude, he doesn't look like that at all. and he definitely didn't tear up when he'd gotten it. but he still has it in his desk drawer.

"i'm sure she doesn't mean that, shou.." he tries, putting a hand on his brother's shoulder, "'m sure she was just mad. you know how people get when they're mad."

"but yn isn't like that. she doesn't get mad, she's always happy. and she wasn't, 'cus of me. 'cus i lied." shouto's voice breaking breaks touya into a million pieces. "c'mon," he coaxes, opening his arms up for his brother to jump in, which he does, like he always has.

shouto's never had friends, or bullies that touya's known of, besides that no name brat that yn had beat up for him from what he'd heard (he laughed very hard when shouto had told him the news, you were sick as shit). he's never had to deal with this before, it must hit him just that much harder to have to lose a friend. for something he didn't even do or have a choice in. it makes touya's blood boil. touya the coolest brother in the world wouldn't have let this, wouldn't have let his fathers bullshit happen to his youngest brother who doesn't know any better like he once did. until he did, and then it was too late.

he was ruined, but shouto isn't.

"do you still wanna be friends with yn ?" shouto stiffens, but nods into his brother's chest. he blinks away little tears when touya pulls at his shoulders so their eyes could meet.

"do you wanna tell her that ?" shouto's eyes widen. he nods hesitantly, but his eyes drift towards the floor. "but she's ignoring me, i don't like it." he mumbles. touya squeezes at his youngest brother's shoulders to get him to look at him again, putting on his best smirk.

"don't worry about it, yeah ? touya-nii'll do somethin' about it." he answers easily. shouto's eyes brighten, and he hugs the older boy tightly, who hugs him right back. touya likes being the oldest when it's this, not when he has to take the blame for stupid shit, not when he has to set the example for his younger siblings. but when his siblings rely on him, when they trust him to make everything right, and he's big bro touya who gets shit done.

shouto doesn't know what to do now that he's not going to school. it’s been two days now he doesn't know why he bothered with his work sheet since he knew he wasn't going back, just routine he guessed.

lunch break should've passed by now, class would be out soon. he wonders how you're doing today. maybe you're still sad, or maybe you've already made some new friends. his teachers were supposed to be let known a day ago that he wasn't coming back as his father told him so this morning, so you must know by now. he wonders if you're happy about it, and that just makes him sad, so he tries not to. he tries not to think about it but all he wants is to see you.

maybe you're worried about him, or maybe you're hanging out on the swings with someone else already. asking them their favourite ice cream flavour and they're not weird like him, so they'll actually be able to give you one and not answer "i don't have ice cream enough to know." like he did. you'll ask them their favourite colour, and they won't think about it as long as him, they won't shrug like he did. they'll smile back at you and be able to match you and they'd be the one to hold your hand, not him.

shouto doesn't hate much. in fact, he can't think of anything he hates more than this.

training is tiring, but it was a bit more bearable because you'd tell him you'd see him tomorrow and he couldn't wait. but now he won't be seeing you again. and you hate him.

he itches at his scar, his father told him not to and his nanny said it would irritate it more. but he can't help it. because if he doesn't he feels like he'll cry. but that's not working either because he feels like crying anyway and his breathing grows heavier. he wishes he could see you and say sorry for lying. he wishes his mom we're here and he could say sorry for scaring her. he wishes he could cuss at his dad the way touya does, he wishes he didn't scare him so much.

the sliding of his door pulls him out of his gloomy thoughts. touya runs a hand through his hair with a heavy sigh, sliding the door shut behind him. one time when he was sixteen, touya had dyed his hair completely black. his mom had made a big deal about it, his father was more than displeased, natsuo found it really funny and fuyumi scolded him, telling him people might mistake him for some type of delinquent. "or even worse, a criminal !" shouto didn't see what the problem was, he thought it looked really cool. but he'd changed it back to white soon after. "i just felt like it at the time." is what he says every time.

"hey, you okay ?" he breathes, kneeling in front of his younger brother shouto nods. his eyebrows furrow as he brings a hand up to his face “stop itching at that.” he chides, pulling shouto’s hand away from his face before he continues.

"hey, today's a school day, yeah ? and yn's at school ?" shouto tilts his head in confusion, but nods. touya smirks. grabbing onto his brother's arm and pulling him towards the door where he tells him to put on his shoes. shouto obeys, but when he’s told to hop on the back of touya's motorcycle, he finally asks where they're going. his older brother sends him a lopsided grin, and drops his too big helmet onto his head roughly, tightning it and clipping it shut.

"we're goin' to school." he answers easily.

apparently, you’re going to the beach in two weeks.

last night during dinner, that’s what your parents had announced since you get a little break from school. you’d been ecstatic about it at first, you love going to the beach. except when it’s too hot, because the sand burns under your feet. but most of the time it’s fun even if seagulls are a little scary, and maybe you’ll even get to pet someone’s dog.

but now, you’re sitting in class and you realize. shouto didn’t come to school today. again.

but you don’t care.

you thought he was just late yesterday, that usually happened when his oldest brother touya (the super cool one) had to drop him off, but then first period passed, then lunch and then school had ended and he still wasn’t here.

you don’t care, though. you really don’t. but you’re desk feels so empty without someone sitting next to you so it’s awkward. and usually, shouto helps you with math problems you don’t get, but he wasn’t there during math. and you had no one to sit with at lunch, or on the swings either.

and you don’t care, but you feel a little bad about telling him you hated him.

shouto lied to you. that means he’s a liar and you hate liars, that was true. but you don’t hate shouto. you don’t think you can. you’re convinced you hate tanaka for what he did to shouto despite your parents telling you that hate is a strong word and you shouldn’t casually say it. but you do.

shouto made you angry just like tanaka did, and you hate tanaka. but you still don’t hate shouto. because shouto’s your first ever real friend. and you want to say sorry for saying you hate him. it’s lonely without him holding your hand, on the swings, or sitting next to you.

there’s a pit in your stomach and you feel like crying, you wish you could go to the beach with shouto. you don’t know if he’d like to swim much. he seems more like he’d like to make sand castles.

you really want to know.

when he comes back, you’ll say sorry for sure.

later that day, your teacher pulls you aside to tell you shouto won’t be coming to school anymore.

"i'm taking shouto to school tomorrow."

eyes identical to his settled on touya. endeavor remains silent as he briefly glances at his son.

“i keep telling you to knock before barging in.” he says coldly, fixing his gaze back on his paperwork.

“and i keep telling you i don’t give a damn.” touya says just as coldly, “we’re going tomorrow, and you’re going to let us without making a fuss.” he bargains, gaze fixed on his father’s back. he sees his fist clench and holds back a smirk, it’s always fun seeing the old man get mad.

“who do you think you are giving me orders ?” the older man grits out, voice still even “you’re in no place to bargain with me, especially not after i got a call from your school about your behavior again. touya scoffs, he never lets the school shit go does he ? it’s not like he really cares, simply trying to hold something over to boy’s head.

“ ‘m saying this for you, pops.” touya shrugs “you might not realize it, but shouto really wants to go to school. kid even made a friend.” endeavor scoffs harshly at his sounds words.

“so what ? he can easily make more.”

touya’s eyebrows furrow. he grits his teeth “no he can’t. kid’s a major weirdo. this is his first ever friend.” he feels his fists clenching despite telling himself he’ll keep calm, “he managed to make a friend who’s just as weird as him, and he’s really depressed about it. i doubt he’ll want to do any training right now.”

“he will.” his father answers smoothly.

“nah, he won’t.” touya answers just as smoothly, or he tries to. he’s sure his father can pick up on the anger in his voice because he sighs.

“it’s already been done, i’ve already warned the school about it.”

“so just tell them you changed your mind. what’re they gonna do about it ? you’re the number two aren’t you ?” touya tries not to sound too smug about the slight taunt. a sore spot that his father hated to be reminded of was that he was always a close second. in a way, just like he is.

“look, you can do whatever you want. but..” he pauses, his father looks back at him slightly. he keeps his eyes locked on his “shouto likes going to school. pretty sure it’s the highlight of his day, which in itself is fucking weird. but he’s just like that. he’s always been like that.” he chuckles humorlessly. “but he’s met someone he can be as weird as he wants to be with for the first time ever, and i don’t think he’ll take it very well if you just take that from him. might even impact his training..” he trails off, finishing with a shrug “but that’s just my theory.”

endeavor keeps his gaze and touya thinks this plan might be a bust. looks like his father really was a stone cold asshole. but he sighs gruffly, touya looks surprised as he grips at his temples and huffs out “i’ll do something about it. close the door behind you.” shooing him away with his hand, no more words leave his mouth. touya doesn’t say anything else either as he leaves. he wonders if he should leave the door just a smidge open to piss his father off, but he decides not to risk it for now. another time.

but for now, touya-nii managed to do something, and he smirks to himself.

shouto doesn’t really know what he’ll say to you. he’s worried you still hate him, because he’d been told that hate was a strong word and you shouldn’t say it thoughtlessly. he’s sure he hates tanaka, because he’d punched you that one time you fought for him. but he worries that you feel for him the same way you do for tanaka.

he wonders if his words can come out as smoothly as the main leads in the movies when they try to make up with their love interest towards the end of the movie, if he can woo you and make you want to marry him again and say you don’t hate him. he doesn’t have time to think anymore because touya’s bike slows to a stop, not in front of a red light. because he sees the shape of his school, he gets a bad feeling in his stomach.

“you see her anywhere ?” touya grunts pulling him off his bike. shouto always thought it looked really cool, but it was really loud and it hurt his ears sometimes when touya would rev it on purpose to annoy fuyumi. shouto scans the area, classes should be done by now. shouto knows sometimes your bag takes a bit of time to close properly, so he thinks maybe you’re taking a little longer. he shakes his head. he feels touya ruffle his hair, probably to reassure him. or to fix it after being under a helmet for so long. he hopes his hair doesn’t look too messy in front of you.

more people start leaving, and the more he sees of his classmates the more he worries. he sees some students pointing towards him, and he knows it’s probably because of his older brother’s huge bike. but it feels like they’re talking about him, about how you hate him. he doesn’t like it. he feels his older brother’s hands still in his hair. and he feels a bit better because he’s here.

“oh, isn’t there her right there ?” shouto’s eyes widen. and he sees you walk a but further from him. you’re kicking at some rocks under your feet and there’s a pout on your lips. you’re not smiling and shouto finds it extremely hard to call out to you. his lips just won’t move. then you’re eyes are wide as your eyes land on him, because his older brother calls out for you instead. shouto freezes as you march over, he thinks maybe you’ll push him again. but you just stand in front of him, eyes still wide.

“i thought you weren’t coming anymore.” it’s weird to hear you speak to him, your voice yelling at him hasn’t left his mind. he grips his hands together as his gaze locks onto the floor. he hears touya say that there’s been some changes done, changes that he knows nothing about but he nods anyway.

shouto doesn’t have a big speech planned. he doesn’t even know if he can look at you right now, but he thinks as long as he just says what he thinks, he can hope you'll understand.

“are you still mad at me..?”

you stay quiet for a bit “a little bit..” you admit. you don’t sound angry, shouto clenches his fists. he dares peek at you.

“..do you still hate me ?” shouto bites his lip, awaiting your answer. he sees you toeing at your shoe.

“..no,” shouto looks up at you then, wide eyed. this time you’re the one who won’t meet his gaze. “i lied..i was angry..that makes me a liar too then.” shouto gets closer to you after a pause. you blink at him, his eyes look even prettier now that you’re seeing them up close again, one surrounded by red. he shakes his head furiously.

“you’re not a liar..i lied first..” he trails off. shouto doesn’t have a big speech ready. he can’t woo you like the cool guys in movies can. but he can tell you what he thinks, because you’ll understand.

“ do you still wanna get married ? i lied when i said i didn’t want to, ‘m sorry..” he looks up at you then, a determined flicker in his eyes that stuns you, his eyes shine like this.

“i’ll ask you this time, if you want to. you won't have to ask me everything all the time. i’ll ask you again when we’re grown ups until you say yes.” you’re stunned. you don’t think you ever heard him say so many words in a row. usually you ask him questions and he usually responds, shortly. but he does anyway. you were happy with that, you were happy to ask and with him listening. it made you happy because he listened to you.

but shouto wants to marry you, and he wants to be the one to ask you. you’d been so proud of yourself for not crying throughout the day, but you feel tears cloud your eyes. you smack your hands against your face to hide them. shouto jumps, asking you if you’re okay.

“‘m sorry, shou ! i called you a liar an-an’ i said i hated you, but i didn’t mean it” you mumble, voice wobbly “c-cus you’re my best friend !”

“you’re my best friend too..” slowly, you feel him wrap his arms around you. usually, you’re always the one hugging shouto first, especially at his left side because it’s warmer. he says he doesn’t like it but he let’s you hold him anyway and when it’s colder you’re always standing on his left before you can realize it. he’s warm like this and you missed him, so you squeeze him back with all your might. he stumbles a bit but doesn’t let you go.

“i don’t like when you’re sad.” he says simply, pulling a way so he could smooch your cheeks together in his palms. it makes you laugh hard and smile bright, like the sun but not when it’s in his eyes. when it’s beaming softly against his skin and it feels nice. he smiles back at you softly and shouto’s sure he wants to be with you forever. even if natsu-nii had joked that he was too young to know he’d get married to you when he’d told him, shouto knows he’s wrong for sure. and he reaches for your hand. it feels normal again, shouto's sure it'll always feel like this as long as he's with you. normal and fitting perfectly just like your hand in his.

you cling to him and bounce on the balls of your feet like your argument had never happened, touya sees you talking his brother’s ear off about what he’d missed at school, that his classmate had gotten in trouble for fighting and that you had a test due next week. all he can think about is how…easy that was. sure, you’re both still kids. but..really ? he shrugs it off, maybe it was just a weirdo thing.

you ask shouto if he wants to go to the beach with you, shouto hesitates and before he can say anything, touya speaks “sure he can.” he says simply. you squeal, swinging shouto’s arms around and telling him about all the fun the beach is, touya personally doesn’t like it much. too hot.

shouto blinks up at him, and the older boy sends him a wink. touya thinks he’s never seen his little brother smile so wide about anything before. he can admit it's pretty sweet, it makes him smile just slightly too.

as they ride home, shouto rambles about what you’d told him at every stop light, touya hums and offers him a few “oh yeah ?”s and “that so ?”s even though he was literally there the entire time and heard everything. but he’s pretty sure his little brother had completely tuned him out with his sole focus being you.

what a total weirdo, how can you just completely tune out someone standing right behind you ? so weird. but touya can’t help but smile to himself as he rambles about his day at the beach two weeks from now. his weirdo little brother could tune others out all he wants, but he’s sure he’ll never tune you out. cus you’re just as weird as each other and touya’s sure he’ll be just fine.

[woso-dreamzzz]

Sharks

Meadema x Child!Reader

Summary: Viv comes to your house and you tell her about sharks

Viv's been at your house more often now.

It's a little strange.

Viv never used to come to the house by herself.

Always with your aunties and the other Arsenal girls.

Never alone.

But now, she's always at the house by herself. She comes home with Mummy from training and they sometimes have sleepovers in Mummy's Big Bed. Sometimes, she cooks you breakfast in the morning or helps pick you up from nursery.

It's weird.

The only person that's been around this much is Daan but she's gone now. It's not that Viv's taking her place but it's just a little weird to have someone around all the time again.

"Mummy!" You call," Need help, please!"

You're trying to get your favourite crayon set out but it's trapped by all the clutter in your toy box. You tug again but can't quite seem to get it.

"Mummy!"

"Hey, liefje." It's Viv instead of Mummy and you stop to look at her.

"Where's Mummy?"

"Beth's on a phone call. Can I help?"

You think for a moment before nodding. "My crayons," You say," Can't-Can't get them."

Viv peers into your toy box, seeing the way that your crayon pack is at the very bottom. Beth warned her about this, about the fact that you had a habit of drawing on everything you could (even the walls) so your crayons had been placed at the very bottom, buried under everything so you couldn't get at them as easily.

"Here, liefje," She says, pulling them out. She hands them to you.

"Thank you, Viv," You reply. You dump them onto the coffee table with your colouring books.

You've got more than one so you look back at Viv, who doesn't quite seem to know what to do with herself now that she's left completely alone with you with no Beth to act as a buffer.

You scamper back to her side, sliding your hand against hers. "Colour with me?" You don't wait for an answer, pulling her with you to sit cross-legged at the coffee table.

You shove a colouring book at her before flicking through your other one to decide which one you want to do. It takes a little while to choose, looking between the shark and the jellyfish.

You end up choosing the shark.

"D'you know that sharks have a lot of teeth?" You ask Viv as you colour," They lose 'em a lot so they need to have a lot more to make up for it."

"Wow," Viv says as she colours too, although she's mostly just watching you," You're very smart. Do you know any more shark facts?"

"Uh-huh. Baby sharks are born with all their teeth," You change your grey crayon to silver," Mummy says it's good I wasn't born with teeth because I used to try to bite things."

"Really?" Viv sounds amused.

"Yeah but I don't anymore."

You grab green to colour in some kelp. "Baby sharks are called pups," You continue," And baby sharks don't stay with their mothers. That's sad. I want to stay with Mummy forever."

"You're very smart," Viv says again.

"Sharks are my favourite animals!" You reply before shooting to your feet. You rummage through your toy chest before returning with arms full of stuffed sharks.

You lay them all out on the table, pushing off all your crayons. You sit extremely close to Viv, closer to her than ever before.

"This is a hammerhead," You say, holding one of your toys," 'Cause their head looks like a hammer. And this is tiger shark 'cause it's got tiger stripes. And this is a whale shark. It's like a whale but it's really a shark."

"Wow."

Viv's pretty happy to sit with you and listen to your explanation of sharks. In all honesty, it's pretty impressive how much you know and you're clearly so happy to tell her so she's content to just listen.

Which is how Beth finds you both later, when she's finished her phone call.

You're practically in Viv's lap, excitedly explaining the new shark added to your collection.

"Hey, y/n," Beth says and you immediately stop talking.

"Mummy!"

You hurry to her side and hug her tight.

"Hey," She says again, a hand running over your head," Did you tell Viv all about your toys?"

"My sharks!" You nod and let Mummy pick you up, balancing you on her hip.

"Your sharks," She laughs, bouncing you slightly," Come on, Viv. Didn't you say that you knew some nice restaurant near here? Let's order dinner."

●～●～●～●～

Slowly but surely, Viv's things begin to appear in the house.

It starts small, some of her clothes and a phone charger. Next it's some of her books and then her trophies and medals. It happens so gradually that you don't even realise it happens until suddenly Viv's taking care of you on her own and never going back to her own house.

"Mummy," You say one evening as you lay on Mummy's chest while Viv does the dishes," Does Viv have a house?"

You bounce a bit from the force of Mummy's laughs. "What kind of question is that?"

You look at her. "Viv's always at our house. Does that mean she's not got a house?"

"Where have you gotten that idea?"

"You said that Daan didn't have a house anymore when she came to live with us."

Mummy sits up and you know this is going to be one of her serious talks.

"Well...Do you remember when I told you about dating?"

"When two people want to be romantic so they hang out and do stuff together."

"Yeah, that's right. Well, after people date for a bit, they move in together."

You think about that for a moment, trying to translate that into something you understand. Sharks don't do that.

"Er...Why?"

"So they can spend more time together."

Sharks don't move in with each other. Sharks don't date. It must be a human thing.

Mummy takes your silence as an invitation to continue. "And Mummy and Viv are dating so she's moving in with us."

You think about that too, finally putting together that Mummy and Daan must have dated as well but don't anymore because Mummy and Viv date now.

"Viv...lives with us?"

"She does," Mummy says," Is that okay?"

"Viv gave me a new shark," You say to Mummy instead," It's a basking shark. It's cool. Viv's cool. She can stay."

Mummy releases a long breath and affectionately rubs your cheek. "I'm glad. I like Viv a lot."

"I'm glad too," Viv says as she approaches," Otherwise I'd have to give this to some other little girl."

You don't know where she's gotten this new shark but you're very happy.

Mummy shrieks though. "Viv! That's disgusting!"

"Goblin shark!" You look between Mummy and Viv. "They're my favourite!"

It's horrifically ugly and you love it so much.

"Thank you, Viv!" You say, giving her a hug as you take it, hurrying over to what Mummy calls your 'shark shrine' to introduce your new friend to all of your old ones.

"It's so ugly, Viv," Beth complains as they both watch you play," It's going to give me nightmares."

Viv chuckles. "Just wait until you google what the real thing looks like."

[roosterr]

firewatch | day 04

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john price x gn!reader wc; 4.6k summary; maybe you shouldn't complain about having nothing to do, or some idiot tourists will change that

haha yeah it's been three months, whoopsie. started hating writing for a while there, but i'm better now lol. pls enjoy, this series is a labour of love 💕

you severely underestimated how fucking tedious this would be.

honestly, you thought you could handle it. all you have to do is look out the window, take note of the weather every now and then, fuck around for the rest of the day, then rinse and repeat for a few months – and you're getting paid, to top it all off.

sounds easy enough.

you look outside, no smoke. you check the weather, it's sunny. two hours later, no smoke and not a cloud in the sky. six hours later, still no smoke, and, would you believe it, it's still clear blue skies and suddenly three days have gone by and somehow you're going stir crazy in the middle of a beautiful state park where most people would go to cure their cabin fever.

it's one thing to be left completely alone with your thoughts for months and months on end, but when you're so adamant about avoiding said thoughts, it turns out there really isn't much else to do.

john was right then, you suppose. people only ever take this job if there's something wrong with them.

well, you weren't completely alone. you take a sip of your tea, lukewarm by now, and turn your eyes to the radio next to you. john isn't bad company, truthfully he's probably the only reason you haven't gone completely insane yet. it makes you wonder how he possibly does this every year, with no other–

"fuckin' hell, is that fireworks?"

john's sudden exclamation startles you mid-sip of your tea, a fit of coughs wracking your body when you accidentally inhale some. you're about to scold him for scaring the shit out of you, but his voice comes through the radio again before you can start.

"out your west window, have a look." he grumbles, low and irritated.

you twist your neck to look, wiping the remnants of your tea from your face with one hand as the other puts the mug down on your desk. your eyes narrow at the sight of the colourful sparks and smoke in the air. "shit, i see them. that's super illegal, right?"

"illegal, and just flat out stupid." john replies, the frustration in his voice rumbling even deeper than usual. "you're gonna need to get down there and stop 'em."

"is…" you blink as another firework explodes above the treeline, "...is that really my job?"

you hear him huff on the other end. "your job is whatever i say it is, rookie. no rangers nearby to call, it's just you'n me out 'ere."

"great." you mumble dryly, casting a mournful glance at the half empty mug of tea sitting on your desk. "so, what do i do? kick their asses?"

"if ya like," john replies in a chuckle, "just make sure they won't come back, and confiscate the fireworks."

"aye aye, captain." you raise your hand in a mock salute entirely for your own amusement, and though he doesn't respond, you hear the click of his radio and an intake of breath as if he wanted to say something, but changed his mind. you shake off his odd reaction and turn away to look over your fire finder at the various trails and paths. "so… how do i get down to the lake?"

"the trail north of your tower should take you." he says, prompting you to pull out your own map and quickly make a note of the trail he mentioned. it looked straightforward enough, a slightly meandering path through the forest leading to the clearing around the lake. "there's a shale slide along the way, so grab some rope. should be in one of your boxes."

your gaze finds said boxes exactly where you'd left them on the floor beside your desk, partially unpacked but still mostly untouched. you sigh and get on your knees, cursing your previous laziness as you rummage through them one by one. it's a mess of random supplies; a few boxes of matches, a candle or three, an old lamp that looks like something a coal miner would use, even a few rat traps that you keep a mental note of for future reference.

"got it." you announce, only a minute or two of searching later, standing again as you hook one of the clips onto your belt loop and let the rope coil hang there. "so you know this park pretty well, huh?"

john hums in agreement, and in the background you hear something that sounds like the door opening and closing, and then the buzz of the wind under his words. "this area, yeah. been doin' this quite a few years now. plus, i'm the one who drops off supplies at your tower."

"oh, so that's your handwriting on the boxes?" you grin, looking back at the boxes that still lay strewn across your floor as you grab your light bag and head out of your own tower. "maybe you should work on that. shit's barely legible."

"i'll make a note." he chuckles, and the conversation between you paired with the lovely scenery as you descend the stairs almost lets you forget about the reason you're going out in the first place.

unfortunately, your reprieve is interrupted by the echo of another firework in the distance, louder now that you're outside. the colourful sparks are still half visible over the treetops against the late afternoon sky, and you frown at the display.

you find the trail to the lake fairly easily, and cast a glance over at john's tower before it's blocked by the trees, just as yet another bang scares the birds.

you scoff as you watch them fly away, narrowing your eyes at the faint traces of smoke still visible in the sky. "can you hear those from over there?"

"just about." john answers, an amused kind of suspicion is his voice. "why?"

"oh, no reason. but if you happen to hear any screaming, do me a favour and ignore it." you try to disguise the grin in your voice, but you can't help the laugh that slips out when your heart john's rumbling chuckle through the radio.

"i'll tell the police it must've been the foxes."

another airy laugh escapes you at his words. john does seem to have a way of improving your mood, even when it had been decidedly soured by the morons threatening to set the forest alight. and, honestly, it’s difficult to stay annoyed when you’re surrounded by shafts of golden afternoon sun breaking through the canopy of leaves, and the soft rustling of the breeze through the branches. 

the forest feels almost dream-like in this light.

you’d mostly stuck to the southern trails on the handful of walks you’ve taken over the last couple days, taking to avoiding the lake since john told you it was somewhat of a tourist hotspot. it’ll be nice to see a new area of the park, you think, even if you’re only going there to yell at some people.

a twig snaps ahead, just off the path in the underbrush to your right, and you pause.

a dear trots into the patch of sunlight that falls through the trees to the centre of the worn trail, and it pauses too. you stare at it, and it’s deep black eye stares right back. it’s beautiful, you can just about think to yourself, your awe keeping you frozen in place.

and then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it’s gone.

"woah." you murmur, still gazing at where it disappeared into the trees. a smile pulls at the corners of your lips as you click the button on your radio again. "a huge deer just crossed the path in front of me."

a moment passes before john answers, a hint of a teasing laugh on his breath. "they do live out here, love."

you click your tongue, rolling your eyes to yourself as you step over a branch to begin walking again. "alright smartass, some of us don't spend ninety percent of our lives in the middle of the woods."

"i'd say it's more like sixty." he chuckles in response, wiping the faux annoyance from your face with ease. "what did it's antlers look like?"

you quirk an eyebrow and cast a look back over your shoulder at the trees where the deer had gone, but the point of his question still flies over your head. "uh, normal?"

another rumbling chuckle comes through the static before john adds, "which way did they point?"

"oh…" you hum, sidestepping a leafy shrub growing over the path as you think. "to the sides? like, outwards, I guess?"

"probably an elk then, not a deer."

you smile, somewhat impressed, but you're not exactly surprised. for whatever reason, john does seem like the type to know that kind of thing. "that's actually pretty cool. how’d you know that?"

"the informative poster provided by the park, which i understand is in both of our towers." he replies, a sense of smug amusement lifting his voice, which earns another eye roll from you that he'll never see.

"right, right. i definitely read that…" you mutter, which earns you a lighthearted scoff from john.

"did you at least read the one about the poisonous plants ‘round here?" he adds, and you grimace stepping over a ditch in the trail because, well, you know you should've, but there's only your own laziness to blame for ignoring it.

you clear your throat, stifling your grin as you answer in a decidedly unconvincing tone, "...yes–"

"christ alive…"

"–but, just to be safe, i'm not gonna touch any plants, so i don't have to worry." you continue – and as if on cue, a tall nettle waves in the breeze into your path, and you're only narrowly able to dodge it before it can brush your skin. you tut at the plant, like it can understand you, and it almost feels as if the park itself wanted to prove you wrong.

you'll keep that close call to yourself, you decide. what john doesn't know can't hurt him, right?

"i'm gettin' grey hairs talkin' to you." john mutters, and you can so clearly picture the disappointed shake of his head that no doubt accompanied his reply.

"you don't already have grey hairs?" you tease, unable to stop the laugh that comes through your words.

"oi, i'm not that old!"

"i know, i know," you chuckle, "but you do sound like a guy who's smoked a pack a day for twenty years."

"more of a cigar man, myself." he pauses, and you can hear the wind pick up in the background when he doesn't take his finger off the button. "not a habit you can keep up out here though, unfortunately."

"you could if you wanted, then we'd both have a fire to watch." you reply, your smile easy now, like you're talking to an old friend rather than someone you met three days ago.

"you're full of good ideas, aren't ya?"

the conversation dies down again after that, a comfortable atmosphere replacing it. the sun has gotten slightly lower in the sky since you'd started walking, and while it wasn't getting dark yet, it would be soon. wandering around the forest at night was possibly the last thing you wanted to be doing, so you'd better hurry this up.

thankfully you're not walking for much longer before you come to a break in the trees. the trodden path you'd been following gives way to the rocky ground, and just ahead you can see the sudden drop off that you assume must be what you're looking for.

you come to a stop at the edge, and gaze down at the steep descent in front of you.

"hey, i found the slope." you announce, clicking the talk-lock button on your radio so your hands are free to start unfurling the rope. your eyes drift to the slope despite how hard you try to keep them on what your hands are doing, and a spark of anxiety shoots through you as you look over it. "am i really going down this?"

"unless you wanna take the long way."

"i don't… but that's gotta be, like, a fifteen foot drop." you grimace at the sharp stones making up the ground below, your hands twirling the rope nervously between them. suddenly you weren't feeling so confident about this.

"that steep?" he sounds surprised when he asks, maybe even slightly concerned. "s'been a while since i've gone that way, must've had a landslide at some point…"

you seriously would've preferred he kept that thought to himself, because now there's an undeniable feeling, right at the forefront of your mind, that this was not going to end well for you.

"landslide. right." you murmur flatly. "that doesn't fill me with optimism."

if john's at all worried about this like you are, he does a fantastic job of hiding it. his voice is unshakably confident when he responds, "you'll be fine, just make sure your clips are tightened."

you sigh, hesitant to continue, but proceed to tie one end of the rope and loop it into the clip on the anchor point just before the drop off – a sturdy looking rock that you sincerely hope isn't going anywhere – and internally you debate over just cutting your losses and turning back, but considering how high the fire risk is right now, there's no way your conscience will let you delay getting to the lake.

you sigh, giving the rope an experimental tug to make sure it really is secure, which it does appear to be, before throwing the rest of it down the slope.

you really don't want to do this, but unfortunately, you really have to.

"alright, i'm going down. if i die it's your fault." you grumble, hearing a muffled chuckle from john as you take the rope firmly in both hands and tread backwards over the edge of the slope.

you only get two steps from the top before you hear the rope creak. the sound brings the taste of bile to the back of your throat, but you do your best to swallow it down. it's probably an old rope, a weird noise doesn't mean anything – it's the same as the noises your tower makes, right? old things creak, that's just what they do. no need to panic.

it's not like you have much of a choice. you're already suspended by it, and there's no turning back now. your palms start to sweat.

"don't do that." you scold the twine under your breath, willing the inanimate object to hear you. "don't make weird noises."

one more step and the rope creaks again, much louder this time and significantly more worrying. it sends a cold bolt of panic up your spine that you don't get to react to before you hear the unmistakable sound of fibres snapping. "wait– no no no no–!"

you vaguely hear john call your name, but it's muffled by your cut off shout as the rope snaps in half and sends you free-falling down the slope.

time seems to slow as you watch the rest of your rope get further away, your wide eyes meeting the vast blue of the sky above with only one thought on your mind.

this is gonna hurt.

a heavy thud reverberates through your skull when you hit the ground. hard. the impact knocks the air from your lungs and forces a strained whine from your lips. jagged stones dig into your skin through your clothes, only adding to the pain already radiating from your upper back.

john calls your name again, his voice a little more frantic this time, you note through the pain fogging your mind. "sitrep– uh, talk to me, what's happened?"

"ugh, shit…" another groan leaves your chest as you push yourself up onto your elbows, attempting to blink away the dark spots that float in your vision. "my fucking rope snapped. fell down the slope…"

"shit." he hisses. "you broken?"

"what? no," you mutter through a deep intake of breath, finally gathering the strength to sit up fully with a hand attempting to soothe the ache between your shoulders, but it doesn't do much to help. "my back just really fuckin' hurts…"

"right…" he murmurs, letting the silence hang between you for a moment too long before continuing. "the rope snapped?"

"yeah… made some fucked up noises and then broke clean in two." you send a withering glare to the other end of your rope, still hanging tauntingly from the top of the slope with a distinct air of mockery you didn't know an inanimate object could be capable of giving off.

standing requires a lot more energy than you currently have in you, but the distant sound of a firework reminds you again why you're even out here – so with a laboured grunt, you push yourself upright through the sharp ache in your back and brace yourself on your knees as your vision spins.

you hear john sigh absently over the wind on his end. "i'm sorry, this is my fault. i should'a checked the supplies 'fore i dropped 'em off at ya tower, i would'a noticed–"

"john, hey, it's fine, okay?" you interrupt his rambling before he can get too far into his own head, and frown to yourself. "but i'm not getting back to my tower that way…"

"there's– there's another path back, from the lake." his voice is quieter than usual, and he stumbles over his words – something so incredibly unlike him, it has you on edge from such a small change.

you hum, looking back up at the other end of your rope with a disdainful sigh as you brush the rest of the gravel from your pants. "as long as there's no more abseiling, i think that'll work."

john doesn't say anything more, which has you concerned, but you decide not to push it. he's clearly cut up about what happened, even if you don't completely get why, and you get the impression that moving on from the subject would be best for both of you.

the way the small valley is shaped leads you easily to the continuation of the trail, and before long the rocky ground gives way again to softer forest floor. you find yourself in another larger clearing, open enough that you can see ahead where the path disappears between more rocks and overgrown shrubbery. the lake must be nearby now, you think, because the distant sound of voices reaches your ears periodically on the wind.

the radio silence from john lingers in the air, heavy and stifling despite the great distance between you. the solitude leaves you with your thoughts, wondering why he was acting so responsible for something so beyond both of your control, and though you've resolved to leave the topic alone, you really can't seem to stop thinking about it.

another bang of a firework echoes around the clearing and you regret complaining about the tedium of the last few days. this was not what you wanted.

you drag your aching body across the rest of the clearing and brush a low-hanging branch out of your way as you make your way through the overgrowth between you and the lake. a clunking sound catches your attention, and you turn your gaze downwards to an empty beer can, followed by another further down path, then a few more, and a few more.

"holy shit, what is wrong with these people…" you mutter through gritted teeth, crouching down to gather as many as you can into your bag as you go – with only a short grumble at the pain it causes your back.

with a deeply exasperated sigh, you sling your bag back over your shoulder just as you come to the end of the trail and the bushes give way to the clearing of the lake. there's a small, raised island in the centre, where you can see the group lounging by the water with their music turned all the way up.

god, could these people get any more obnoxious?

you take a second to steel yourself, because this was not going to be easy, before cupping your hands around your mouth and shouting, "hey!"

they ignore you. of course they do.

"hey!" you yell louder this time, and thankfully they acknowledge you by finally turning off their music and glaring at you from their perch. you're probably supposed to handle situations like this with decorum, but as a result of the last hour or so your patience has worn incredibly thin, and you really can't find it in you to care. "fireworks? really? are you guys completely fucking stupid?"

they scoff and look incredulously between each other, before who you assume to be the ringleader yells back, "what the hell is your problem?"

"yeah, it's a free country!" one of the others adds.

"that's not how that works…" you sigh to yourself, pinching the bridge of your nose and willing yourself to keep at least some modicum of composure. "you kids better get the fuck outta here! right now!"

they scoff again, and pointedly turn away from you. good god, the urge to throw rocks at them was getting harder and harder to fight.

"ignore them, it's just some random fucking loser creeping on teenagers…" the ringleaders comment is only just audible from where you're standing, but you do hear it, and it only serves to fuel your temper.

"what? no, i'm–" you falter for a split second, debating the consequences of the lie you're about to tell, but the side of you that just wants these idiots out of your life wins over fairly easily. "i'm a park ranger! and if you don't leave now, i can guarantee the cops are gonna be waiting for you when you do!"

a beat of silences passes, before they begin to mutter amongst themselves.

"oh shit… are they for real?"

"i don't care dude, i can't get arrested again, my parents would kill me!"

"let's just get outta here, this is freaking me out…"

you fold your arms tightly over your chest and watch them scuttle to gather their things with a scowl. they collectively send you one last withering look, which you readily mirror, before they wade back into the lake and swim across to the bank on your left.

"fucking finally…" your gaze follows them until they weave between the trees and you can no longer see them. with a tired sigh, you bring up your radio and move to check where they disappeared to as you update john. "hey, they're gone."

there's a moment before john replies, sounding not quite as downtrodden as he was earlier, which you take as a good sign. "yeah? how'd it go?"

"i hope they drown." you grumble in response.

he laughs, genuine and deep, and you feel your lingering annoyance melting away with the sound. "let's hope they won't come back."

"are you…" you clear your throat, weaving your way between trees and bushes. "are you okay? about earlier, i mean?"

"yeah, i'm– i'm fine." john answers quickly, and you get the strong feeling that he's deflecting when he continues, "let's just get you back to your tower, eh?".

"and far away from these fucking tourists…" you mutter, which earns you another light chuckle from him. just the memory of them has you cringing as you brush through a few bushes. "completely unrelated question, but would i get in trouble if i, hypothetically, lied about being a park ranger?"

"hypothetically, i reckon we could keep that between me and you."

a small grin finds its way onto your face, just as you reach where you assume those kids had been camping. there's more empty cans scattered by the worn dirt track, which you gather up with a string of curses under your breath.

following the trail of litter as you round the trees, the first thing that meets your eyes is the remains of their campfire, still smouldering and glowing orange in the evening shadows.

"idiots lit a campfire, too." you seethe, sharply kicking dirt over the embers until you're sure it's out. "the fire risk is colour-coded for assholes like them, and somehow it still went over their heads…"

john sighs. "don't think too much about it. knobheads like that wouldn't get it if it smacked 'em in the face."

"who knows? maybe one of these days i will." you're only half joking, but the smile must come across in your voice because john's rumbling chuckle follows again.

"right, and when they ask 'how on earth d'you get fired from a job where all you do is sit on your arse all day', what're you gonna tell 'em?"

"that i beat up some dumb kids and saved the park from being burnt to a crisp?" you grin, starting in the direction you vaguely remember another trail ending, but a glint of light catches your attention from the corner of your eye.

you crouch down, and forgotten behind the bush is a half empty bottle of cheap whiskey. nice.

you slip it into your bag and call it the service charge.

"i think the coppers'll be more concerned with the first bit." john quips. you laugh through the twinge of pain as you stand again, and hope he doesn't notice.

"that's their problem. i'll be the people's hero." you say, earning a other deep chuckle that grows a light feeling in your chest. you get a few more strides up the path before coming across a trail sign with a spoke for fire lookout seven, and tell john, "hey, i found the sign for my tower, so i'm heading that way."

"good. that way's a bit more of a hike, but it's shorter, so you should be home in time for dinner." 

"perfect. can't wait to get back to my room temperature tea." you reply, with a trace of sarcasm that you're sure is only just noticeable.

john breathes a short chuckle, before his voice turns slightly more serious. "how's your back, anyway?"

"fucking hurts, but i'll get over it." you answer, and the moment silence that follows has you wishing you'd just said fine. it had slipped your mind how odd john was being about your fall, and though you want to find out why, you get the impression that questioning him about it wouldn't get you anywhere.

he clears his throat uncomfortably. "...sorry, again. it was my fault you fell."

you frown in concern when he apologises, again, and do your best to ease his mind. "don't worry about it, alright? i didn't even fall that far, i was already, like, halfway down."

he doesn't have to know that was a lie.

"still, it shouldn't've happened in the first place." he replies, still sounding rather pitiful despite your efforts.

"i'm being dramatic. it's really fine, john." you try to keep your words light, to convey that you really don't blame him, and he shouldn't either, but he simply hums in response.

"if you say so."

"well, y'know how you can make it up to me?" you let another smile creep into your voice when another idea comes to you.

"how's that?" he takes the bait, some form of amusement present rather than the cynicism from before.

"you can tell me some of your war stories," you can sense his hesitation through the radio, but you press further with a more lighthearted tone, "the cool shit, like how mission impossible is based on your life or whatever."

"well, i'm no tom cruise, but i was at the piccadilly bombin', back in twenty-nineteen." john replies, a hint of smugness behind his words that you don't even register through the shock that stops you in your tracks.

"holy shit, what?"

[jo-speaks]

dinner

in which…

Quinn and fem! reader go out to dinner!

warnings: none!

fourth date in the alphabet dates series!

“All clear?” You asked from inside the car before taking Quinn’s hand and stepping out. 

He let out a soft laugh, “Yes ma’am. No paparazzi, no fans, no nothing. Just you and me.”

“And the staff.”

“And the staff.” He parroted, shutting the passenger door of his Porche closed. 

It wasn’t a shock when Quinn told you he had set reservations for the Canadian restaurant you had been dying to try since flying out to be with him in Vancouver for the season. He didn’t understand what drew you to the place. It was overwhelming, with its rooftop seating, and its whimsical dishes. 

However, the shock came when he told you it would just be the two of you. He loved keeping your relationship decently private, with a few posted pictures here and there, but mostly keeping it between you and him. 

As much as you wanted to show off your boyfriend to the world, you knew keeping it private was best. It wasn’t like people didn’t know you were his girlfriend, but social media is a vile place. 

You and Quinn walked up the short flight of stairs toward the restaurant entrance, toothy smiles covering both of your faces the whole way up. When you reached the door, Quinn let go of your hand briefly to open the door for you, quickly re-interlacing your fingers with his the second you stepped inside. 

“Excited?” He asked, following your trail of sight as you looked up at the massive chandelier hanging from the ceiling. 

“Very. Thank you.” 

He smiled widely at your response, “I should be thanking you. This view is to die for.”

You assumed he was talking about the breathtaking decor all around the restaurant, but when you flickered your eyes back to his, you realized he was looking at you. 

He eyed your lips, wanting nothing more than to kiss you right then and there. But the second he leaned in, he heard his name being called. 

“Reservation for Hughes?” The hostess asked, holding 2 menus in her hand.

Quinn pulled back, a slight red blush on his face, “Uh, yeah. That’s me.” 

The hostess smiled, “You two can follow me.” 

You laughed softly at his reaction to being caught doing, nothing really. You kissed his lips quickly before tugging his hand gently as the two of you trailed behind the hostess. 

She led you two up the staircase and onto the rooftop. The view from your table was stunning. The sun was meant to be setting in a little less than an hour, so an array of pinks and blues covered the sky. 

“A waiter will be with you in just a moment.” She smiled before walking away. 

Quinn murmured quickly, “Thank you.” before focusing back on you. He didn’t say a word as he took your hand from across the table and gently ran his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes met his blue ones, a smile appearing on your face as he admired your features. 

“I’m so lucky to have you, Y/N. You have no idea.” He spoke, giving your hand a gentle squeeze. 

You blushed at his words, “I love you.” 

He didn’t get the chance to say it back before a waiter approached your table with a smile.

~✩~

By the time you had finished your food, the sun was practically set, most of the light in the sky coming from scattered stars. You stood up without a word, walking over to the railing. 

You always knew Vancouver was a beautiful city, but seeing it at night was like nothing you’d ever seen before.

Colourful lights all over the city, the faint sound of street music being played in the distance. Quinn snuck up behind you, his suit-covered arms wrapping around your waist. You felt a shiver in your spine, unsure if it was because of the cool Canadian air, or the feeling of being so close to your boyfriend. 

He rested his chin on your shoulder, his stubble poking at your smooth skin. He tilted his head slightly, placing a sweet kiss on the side of your neck, before turning back to continue admiring the night view with you.

“What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours, eh? You look lost in thought.” He asked, softly.

You let out a quiet sigh, “Just thinking about you. About everything I would give to stay here with you forever.”

He smiled against your shoulder as you turned your head slightly to look at him. His eyes darted towards your lips before leaning in to connect your lips for the second time that night. You turned around, holding his face in your hands as his stayed gently on your waist.

The moment could not have been more perfect.

He couldn’t be more perfect.

[runningfrom2am]

cold nights // part fourteen

summary: you showed him colours he knows he can't see with anyone else.

pairing: coriolanus snow x fem!reader

wc: 3.1k

masterlists / nav / requests

tags/warnings: tribute!reader and mentor!coriolanus, r is very sweet (too kind for this world. literally.), sunshine x grumpy trope kinda, he falls first, violence typical for the source material, r is very smart (as she should), district twelve!reader.

a/n: finally reunited ahh!! (also a note from me while i'm trying to find pics for the header: damn this dude does not look happy very often huh) (okay so update we're settling for a flashback photo bc coryo in his curls era does not SMILE bruh)

my asks are also open to talk about this series! (i do have emoji anons open now too!)

send me any and all of your thoughts! here!

series masterlist // playlist

"Just right here." Lucy Gray stops on the gravel road, nodding up to the house in front of them.

"Okay, sweet." Sejanus smiles, already heading for the front porch but she grabs his arm, stopping him as Coryo just stares at the house, going slightly pale.

"Sejanus, how about you and I go figure out where you guys will stay, and come back for Coriolanus in a bit?" She offers, nodding toward him.

"Oh- uh, yes. Yeah. Good idea." He agrees, picking up quickly on what she meant. Coryo still hasn't said a word, just staring at the run-down shack that apparently was your home. It was clear that efforts were made to maintain the home, the fence had been patched in several places and there were flower beds outside. From what he knew about your family, that would make sense.

"Coriolanus?" Lucy Gray draws his attention again. "We're going to go find you a place to stay, and we'll come back for you in a bit. Does that sound okay?"

"Yeah that's... that's perfect. Thank you." He nods, in a trance-like state as he makes his way up to the door through some only slightly overgrown grass, before he has the chance to second-guess himself.

"He didn't even listen, did he?" Lucy Gray says, both of them watching him from the street.

"Not at all, no."

He can hear the two of them chatting as they disappear back down the road, and he looks for a doorbell that doesn't seem to be there, just settling for a knock instead. He waits a few moments after knocking on the wood, about to do it again when he hears a woman's voice come from inside. "One moment, I'll be right there!"

"I got it, Ma!" Comes from right behind the door as footsteps approach and it's swung open, a young boy standing there. "Hi." He says, eyeing Coryo up and down. It must be your brother.

"Uh, hi." He clears his throat. "Is Y/N here?"

"No, not right now." The boy answers. "Can I take a message for her?"

"Oh, well, my name is Coriolanus Snow, and-"

"Hold on! I'm coming!" The woman's voice comes again, much more excited as she rounds the corner from the hall, brushing her hands off on her apron. "You're Coriolanus?" She asks, a polite but delighted grin on her face as she gets closer.

"Yes, Ma'am." He nods in confirmation, a smile growing on his face. You look so much like your mother.

"Oh my goodness, come in, please! I didn't recognize you!" She gently moves her son out of the way, who is still staring at him with something unwelcoming behind his eyes. As soon as Coryo steps into the home, she's wrapping her arms around him in a hug. "Wow, it is so lovely to meet you! You came a very long way!"

"I did." He chuckles, hugging her back with as much politeness as he can muster behind shaking hands and a pale face.

"Come sit, Y/N will be home within the hour. She'll be just thrilled to see you." She pulls away, gesturing for him to follow her into the living area. "Are you hungry? You must be starving. Let me grab you something."  Your mother says, mostly to herself as he sits down on the couch.

"That would be great, thank you." He smiles, still nervous as he tries to adjust his posture on the slightly uncomfortable sofa, looking around. In reality, he hadn't been "starving" for some time now. It felt good to have a consistently filled fridge all the time, but he has hardly eaten since they left the Capitol. He was too nervous to even think about it.

"Why did you come here?" Your brother asks, making Coryo look away from the family photos that adorned the walls. Most of the frames were broken, photos blurry, but he could tell that to your family that didn't matter.

"I hadn't heard from her. I wanted to make sure she was doing okay." Coryo answers, stiffened by your brother's somewhat hostile energy and the thought of getting to see you so soon. Had you told him something you didn't tell your mother? Probably that he killed that boy, but it seemed unlike you to leave out the part where he had no choice. Unless Tigris was wrong.

Unless you still didn't see it that way.

Your brother hums, sitting in the chair across from the couch and leaning his elbows on his knees. To Coryo, this felt like an interrogation. Coming from a teenager, it was almost cute.

"Lennox, Honey, can you come help me for just a moment?" His mother calls him from the kitchen and he's shooting up again, glaring at Coryo as he walks away. He was confused, today alone he's gotten so many mixed signals on your feelings.

You stuck out the day at work, even though while you were reshelving returns you had to rush to the bathroom in the back to vomit after reading the back cover of an old book about a man who hunted humans. You were hoping by now this would happen less and less, but leaving the house had only made it worse. Getting a job was a mistake and you knew that, but your family was hardly scraping by before you were torn from your life- but neither of your parents could work the whole time you were gone. They were sick about it. Your mom still couldn't work, and you knew your father rarely ever slept these days.

You tried to hand over the winnings Coryo's Dean had given you as soon as you got home, holding it out to your parents with trembling hands as they opened the locked door for you. They wanted none of it. Not a dollar from your three thousand, which you had spent time counting and recounting on the train. They only wanted you home. You had hoped it would give you something else to talk about- that you could smile and be proud that you won and that now your family could live comfortably, at least for a little while. The idea almost made it worth it. As you counted your prize under the dim lighting in the train car, you had wondered if you would do it again for them. The money didn't make saying hello again any easier, though, and you cried for what must have been hours on the porch of your family home, the four of you tangled together in a hug bound together by tears.

It was hard to let go, but when they had, finally, your mother shoved the money back into your pocket and told you to save it. One day, you could buy your own home with it, and that wasn't a bad idea.

All you could do for them now that your money sat in a jar in your closet, the best you could do, was convince them you were fine enough for you all to move on and forget about it. The additional income of getting your own job helped, too. So, when your boss tried to send you home, you declined, and five o'clock couldn't have come fast enough.

You drink water out of an old jam jar on the way home, washing the taste of bile out of the back of your mouth. The fresh air made a world of difference. As much as you adored the smell of books, it got stuffy in there, especially in the summers. Even with the sun beating down on your shoulders over your button-up shirt, you felt better just making the walk home every day. The breeze blowing through the trees, the familiar paths beneath your feet, it was one of the very few things that could ground you in the reality that now, you were safe. That, and the meadow behind your house at night time. Reading under lantern light with the stars overhead and your family at your side, you never felt more real. It was truly over.

That's what you would do tonight, you decided, after a long nap following an unfortunate day. At the end of every unfortunate day, you still had that, and that meant the world to you.

"Oh! Here's Tybalt." Your mom smiles, now comfortable on the couch next to Coriolanus as the cat saunters into the living room, jumping up into the space between them. "This is Y/N's cat, she calls him Tybs." She explains, tears forming in her eyes as the cat crawls onto her lap and she quickly blinks them away, but he had already noticed by then.

"She told me about him." Coryo says, placing his now empty tea cup on the coffee table in front of them.

"Of course..." She chuckles sadly. "He took real good care of us while she was away. On particularly... hard nights," She clears her throat. "He would come out into the living room with her father and I and sit with us, he can purr like no ones business, you know, and then after a while, he would run over to our room there and meow at us. Made sure we got to bed. Then curl up with us and just made sure we knew that.... she was still with us."

A tear falls as she speaks and she laughs nervously, quickly brushing it away. "Gosh, I am so sorry..." She quickly dismisses it. "We have company and I'm crying like a little girl. Forgive me..."

"No, it's quite alright." Coryo insists, shaking his head. Of course, he was worried about you in the arena and every night up until then, but he never entertained the idea of what it was like for your family even though he knew about them. That under the same sky, they were sitting here in this very home praying that you might return. Now, he could see it, and you were the lucky one who made it home. He hoped he wouldn't have to see Jessup's family while he was here. "It must have been awful for you."

"Indeed." She nods, wiping her cheek again. "But, you know, it means so much to us that she had someone there to look after her." She smiles at him. It's genuine. Sad, but full of gratitude. He would no longer wonder where you got that habit from. "I decided I wouldn't be watching anything, but her father insisted. He was out at a bar in town, the only one with televisions, then came rushing back in the door twenty minutes later and dragged us back there with him to watch. I didn't want to go but he said 'No, you need to see this. She's not alone. She has a friend.' So down we went, and they were playing reruns of the two of you being dropped into that cage. I just... She looked so comfortable with you. The way you looked at her we could see you cared, that she was human to you, and that you were there to help. I remember thinking for the first time that maybe she had a chance." She's accepted her tears now, reaching over from petting Tybalt to grasp the young man's hands in her own as she spoke.

Your brother scoffs as Coryo lets her hold onto his hands, a small smile forming on his face that's quickly torn away by Lennox's reaction. "Yeah, and then that other boy had to be the one to bring her something to eat after days."

"Hey!" Your mother gasps. "Lennox, get-" She prompts him to leave if he isn't going to be nice.

He rolls his eyes, getting up to leave.

"I didn't have anything to bring her besides a flower." Coryo finds himself stating, shocking even himself at the confession which halts your brother in his steps. He had never told anyone about the poverty he faced at home, but with them, he felt safe to. Something about knowing you assured him that they were not judgemental people. He clears his throat before explaining. "My family lost everything after the war. When I first met her, I also hadn't eaten in days. I gave her everything I could."

Lennox hums before leaving, either not convinced or embarrassed that he'd even made such a comment. Coryo couldn't tell.

"Coriolanus... I am so sorry." Your mother is quick to apologize, and he's embarrassed by the look of pity in her eyes. Pity from a woman who had, for almost a month, believed she had lost her child, and was still struggling with it today. He felt nothing but guilt.

"Well, I must tell you, your daughter saved us from that." He tries to lift her spirits as a confused expression paints itself into her features, but he doesn't get the chance to elaborate as they both turn at the sound of the front door opening.

"Ma!" You call out, closing the door behind you and kicking off your shoes, preparing your smile to tell her about the absolutely great day you just had.

Your mother stands quickly, patting the boys thigh gently and wipes her eyes. "Hi, Honey, how was your day?" She asks, smiling at him through red eyes.

"Come what come may, time and the hour runs through the roughest day." Your groaned response comes slightly muffled from the other room, and Coryo can hear you shuffling about.

"Oh, no. What happened?" Immediately your mother's tone shifts to worry, and Coryo wonders how it took her less than a second to understand.

"Nothing, Ma. All is fine." You call back, putting your bag down in the kitchen, and heading for the living room, gluing a smile back on. "Guess what I saw on the walk home! A ladybug, it landed right on my-" You freeze as you walk into the entryway, seeing your mother and your previous mentor just standing up next to her.

"Oh, I should have mentioned, we have company." Your mother smiles, already gathering the used dishes from the coffee table, and brushing past you to bring them into the kitchen. Likely, to give you two a chance to talk.

When Coryo lays his eyes on you for the first time again, he can swear his heart stops. Yours definitely does as nausea comes over you in a wave again, and your calculated smile drops.

You don't say anything, just staring with an expression unreadable to him. "Y/N, hi." He breathes, smiling at you. You look beautiful but tired, still. Still, that girl he watched in the arena, it was hard to believe that every part of you made it out. You weren't the same girl he saw for the first time in the reaping- you were more. More of you, and more of something else; hurt, if he had to guess.

"It's good to see you." He continues, his voice a gentle whisper that cuts through the awkward tension in the room. Your heart races, emotions swirling like a tempest within you. Coriolanus Snow, your mentor and friend who had guided you through your time in that Capitol and the games, is standing in your living room, looking both apologetic and hopeful.

"Coryo," You manage to say, voice barely above a whisper as you swallow the sickness rising in your throat. The memories flood back- everything awful you had gone through. Meeting him for the first time as he handed you a flower, sitting on opposite sides of the bars of your cage and talking long into the nights. Everything you had done, everything he had given you, the people you both hurt in the process. He takes a step closer, cautiously navigating the fragile space between you.

"I... What are you doing here?" You ask quietly, your eyes unable to meet his gaze. The room feels smaller, the walls closing in on you quickly.

He clears his throat, a nervous habit you remember well. "I wanted to see you," he says, his eyes pleading for understanding. "I didn't know what you were up to and how you were adjusting and... I was worried about you."

The weight of unspoken words lingers between you, and for a moment, neither of you knows how to bridge the gap that only a month of time has built. You had been away from him longer than you had known him, and facing him again, you were embarrassed. Scared. Coryo takes a deep breath, summoning the courage to express the weight of what he's carried in his mind for too long.

"I never stopped thinking about you," He confesses, sincerity etched across his face. "I tried sending letters but I didn't get any response."

The vulnerability in his eyes mirrors your own, and the air crackles with a shared sense of everything you want to say but just can't find the words. You can't help it as you feel over and over again the countless hours spent together in the lead-up to the worst days of your life.

Tentatively, he reaches for your hand, a silent plea for connection. As your fingers take his, warmth floods through you, dissolving the distance. "I missed you," he admits, his voice barely audible.

A rush of conflicting emotions surges within you- that same embarrassment, anger, hurt, but also a flicker of the fondness that never truly faded. "I missed you too," You admit, your voice breaking through the emotional dam, built up from fear and trauma and the stacks of books in your bedroom that held it back all this time.

With those words, the barriers crumble, and the room is filled with a pitiful silence. The weight of what you had both done begins to lift, replaced with the realization that he did honestly care for you, the way you did for him. As you look into each other's eyes, the connection is undeniable, evidence of a bond that time could never change. You would always be connected to him.

"Do you remember when I brought you that blanket?" He asks and you take in a sharp breath. The few pleasant memories you had of your time together were so often overthrown by the awful ones, these days. His eyes flicker quickly across your face. He looks as scared as you feel. "And I said I wish I could get to know you as you are, not as a tribute, and you said you would show me the stars."

A small smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you nod, the nausea you felt steadily subsiding. "So you walk softly and look sweetly and say nothing. I am yours for the walk and especially when I walk away."

Coryo tilts his head at you, and smiles. That must have been a yes. "Please, don't walk away again." He whispers, and in that moment, he feels the tightness in his chest that carried him through the last month finally release.

taglist: @soulessjourney , @that-veela-girl ,  @dreamyysouls, @rockstarbfs , @maysileeewrites , @baybieruth , @kitscutie ,  @fratboyharrysgf0201 , @totallynotkaibiased , @stelleduarte , @secretsicanthideanymore , @bejeweledreverie , @drewsandsebastianswife , @niicole-87 , @queenofshinigamis , @innercreationflower , @nallasstuff , @scorpiolystoned , @iovemoonyy , @thatmarvelchick19 , @wearemadeofstardust0 , @regulusblackcore , @puredreamagination , @fantasticchaosthing , @becauseseaotters , @secretsicanthideanymore

okay suddenly tumblr isn't letting me tag more people than this so i just made some cuts unfortunately :') i just left the max amount of people i could whose users i recognized and see in my notifs all the time :) if you're not on here and you should be i'm so sorry!

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[nariism]

come out and haunt me

pair. itoshi sae x ghost!reader

content: fluff, angst/comfort with a happy ending, reader is a ghost, platonic + romantic interactions, strangers to friends (to more?), slight pining

synopsis. sae is 13 years old when he moves to madrid. his temporary apartment is old and cheap, and worst of all it's haunted. but he finds your company better than nothing, even if you do tend to knock all of his belongings over.

wc. 5.7k

You are dead.

As it comes to all mortal humans, you have died. You can't remember when, or how, or why— only that it is your duty to haunt this home, that you are abysmally cold, and that you are dead.

You don't know if you had any last words, what it was like to draw a breath, or how to stop feeling so cold. Cradling yourself somehow makes it worse. But you are dead, so what does it matter if you can't remember?

If you had aspirations and meaning in life, then you suppose you should try to find them in death, too. So you float around empty halls, deliberately bump into things just for the fun of it, and pretend that you aren't dead. It is purposeful enough.

There's a boy who lives with you.

You are dead, and he is alive, yet he seems completely unbothered by your loud, obnoxious presence.

Sae feels more dead than alive.

He is 13 years old when he moves into his temporary home in Madrid. It's old and worn. It is all his parents could afford with Yen in a foreign country.

His new home is despairingly lonely. It makes the heart in his chest sink into the pit of his stomach. He misses Rin. His parents. Japan.

He should be thankful. He doesn't mean to be a brat. But the small apartment is cramped and cold and smells like mildew. He's allergic to something in the walls. His light buzzes horribly when it turns on.

And, well. The place is haunted.

You are a ghost haunting an old, rickety apartment in Madrid.

You've never seen your reflection in the mirror, but you're pretty sure you look scary. There has been others before him— a young couple with a dog; a retired carpenter; a businessman complaining about how shitty work is over the phone. Each and every one of them have left you the same way: screaming, crying, colour drained from their faces and packing their suitcase before you could even say hello.

It's a little lonely, being a ghost. Sometimes you wish you came off a little friendlier. You have no ill intent, you're just bored. Bored and lonely and wishing to know why everyone thinks you're so terrifying.

The boy who lives with you is the first. He's the first to look you dead in the eyes and shrug you off. He's the first to fall asleep knowing your presence is watching. He's the first to leave out a bowl of warm, steaming rice for you even though he seems to know you can't physically eat it.

His company is silent, as is yours. It's better than nothing.

Sae is 13 years and 5 months old when he tells Rin his apartment is haunted.

"A ghost? Seriously?" Rin sounds unimpressed even through the static of the phone call. Take it from the kid who watches horror movies in his spare time. Freak, Sae thinks.

"Seriously. I have a picture."

He can hear his brother pulling his phone away from his ear to look at the image he just sent. The call goes quiet for a moment, and then Rin is scoffing in the microphone again.

"Quit messing with me." The younger Itoshi sighs. "This isn't funny."

Rin is only 11. He lives at home with Mom and Dad. He's not alone right now, in a place where everyone speaks a jumbled language he can't decipher yet.

He doesn't understand that even if Sae isn't being haunted, he shouldn't crush his brother's hopes that someone, or something, is watching over him.

"I'm not," Sae deadpans.

"Yeah, okay, and what does this ghost do, then?" He still sounds skeptical.

"Mostly just knocks over my books and stuff."

From his couch, he watches you bristle in embarrassment and scurry away into the darkness of the hall.

You are some sort of untethered soul, unsure of where your actual body rests. It could be 10 meters from this apartment. It could be in Antarctica, for all you know.

Okay, well, Antarctica is a bit of a reach, but you're certain that your body is somewhere. You wonder what kind of clothes you used to wear; what kind of music you used to listen to; what kind of hairstyle you used to prefer.

You wonder if these things are anything like Sae's.

He's all you have right now. It would be nice if you had some things in common. Maybe you could be friends, if he was ever going to acknowledge you to your face instead of gossiping to his brother.

You watch him quietly from the kitchen table, waiting for your bowl of rice. You must make some kind of face when he instead places a plate of eggs in front of you.

He almost laughs, you think. He hasn't shown any sort of emotion in response to you thus far, so it's hard to tell.

"Coaches told me I have to be stricter about my diet," he says out loud. It's the first words he has ever spoken to you. It's the first words anyone has ever spoken to you.

He eats his bland eggs silently after that remark, eyeing them disdainfully.

You have that in common, at least. You miss your warm bowl of rice.

Sae thinks you are funny.

He's only ever known ghosts to be malicious, benevolent beings. Things stuck in purgatory with no way out, forced to wander the mortal plane and thus turning into baneful monsters. Watching spooky movies with Rin has ingrained this into him—  hardwired his brain into giving him goosebumps whenever you're around even though he knows you're harmless.

He has to wonder how anyone could ever find a ghost like you genuinely scary, with your avoidant eyes and that patience while you wait for breakfast.

He doesn't mind doing twice the amount of dishes. Not if it means he doesn't feel alone.

You do silly things, like shoving his belongings over when you want his attention, or sitting on the floor and blowing bone-chillingly cold air into his face when he's taking his midday nap.

He's discovered that your inconsistent corporeal interactions with the world are quite amusing.

"What's your name?" He asks one day over eggs that he's shoving around on his plate.

Silence. Of course.

"Don't have one?"

You shake your head, but really, you don't know. You can't remember.

Sae has never been the talkative type, but for some reason he just can't keep his mouth closed. Being a complete shut-in and not having anyone to talk to outside of his team would do that to him, he guesses. He's thankful that you at least don't seem to have a language barrier when he speaks Japanese.

"Should I name you?"

Your offended expression screams: What am I, a pet?

He just smiles, placing his fork down and observing you carefully. And the name he decides on dances at the tip of his tongue, sounds so sweet coming from his lips.

You can't help but think the name was meant for you, in life or in death.

You like listening to Sae talk.

He has a voice smooth as silk, so charming and boyish. He's young, you think. He told you once that you also looked rather young, and asked you how old you were when you died.

Even if you had an answer for him, it's not like you could have told him.

Sae is famous for his age, you discover one night while watching television with him. You're sitting on the floor and he's on the couch. You cause the TV to frizzle and crack with static but he doesn't shoo you away. Maybe he finds your presence more valuable than the background noise of the screen.

He's in a recording, playing what he calls "football"— light blue uniform, eyes wide with adrenaline, sweat sticking to his forehead and a proud shine in his expression. He isn't smiling by any means (you've also discovered that he rarely does), but you can tell he's happy.

"I'm going to be the greatest striker," he says from the couch. He talks about his dreams a lot, which is apparently what he used to do with Rin, but you don't mind filling in that role temporarily. "I'm going to be the best in the entire world."

You don't know anything about football, but you believe him anyways.

Sae is 14 years old when he gets his first contract payment.

This is his chance, he realizes, to move out of his shitty little apartment and into an actual livable home.

He has to consider if you'll feel lonely, if you even can feel lonely, and if you'll like hanging out with your next housemate, whoever it is that's unlucky enough to have a ghost befall them.

He's getting soft. If it were any other point in his life, Sae would have taken the chance to move out without hesitation. But you've been there for him since day one, kept him enough company — no matter how quiet — for him not to go literally insane.

You're the only thing he has in Madrid that he can come home to right now. You’re the only reason he even comes home at night instead of just sleeping in the locker rooms.

If not him, who else would feed you crappy bland eggs in the morning?

You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. You, football, sleep. At some point, it became his routine.

"I was thinking of moving out."

Your head tilts to the side. You seem perplexed by his statement.

"Like, leaving. Leaving here."

You blink at him, head tilting the other way. There's a look in your eyes that tells him you understand. There's also a look that tells him it's not your first time being abandoned, left in this terribly lonely, smelly apartment.

"I can never tell what you're thinking," he huffs.

You're still for a moment, just staring at him as if you suddenly can't understand Japanese. But then you get up from the table, walk over to the container of dry rice that's been untouched for so long that it's gathering dust, and knock it over.

"Hey," he scolds sharply, chair screeching as he stands. "I have to clean that, you know?"

You start moving the spilled rice into place. He watches curiously as you sort dry rice into a pile. You don't know any Kanji, he isn't surprised. But you know enough to draw him a universally understood symbol.

When he peers over at the messy counter, he finds himself staring at a giant X. Stay, it means. Don't leave.

That night, when he knows you've retreated into the closet where you seemingly go to sleep, he crumples up the lease for his new place without signing and burns the paper.

It's because he needs to make you eggs tomorrow morning. Only he would know to do that.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?"

You raise your head from the edge of the bed. You've made it a new habit to protect him in his sleep, from what he can tell. Perching yourself on the floor beside the mattress and resting there, head in your arms, making his sheets cold.

You shake your head. Of course not, he internally smacks himself. What a ridiculous notion.

He rolls himself over onto his side, looking at you from under his duvet. "So when you sleep, you don't see anything?"

Another shake of the head. He isn't sure you're understanding him. There's another pause as he peers at you, and then he sighs, eyes sliding shut.

"Do ghosts ever have dreams?" He asks again, this time emphasizing his words in a different way and hoping you'll answer him the way he wants.

Your eyes shift away for a second, as if pondering. When you look back he's surprised to see that you look... bashful?

You point at him, then at yourself, then shy away again.

You. Me. Friends.

Sae feels silly that it makes his heart ache a little— the sadness carried in your face and a loneliness so powerful he feels it rattling in his own bones.

Well, the two of you have a lot more in common than he thought. How long had you been alone? Was that really all you ever dreamed of? Having a friend?

Suddenly, his doubts about his own dreams feel immeasurably small.

He reaches out to pat your head. His hand goes through you.

Sae is 15 years old when he packs up his belongings for a flight to Japan.

"I'll be back," he promises with a small smile. You believe him. He doesn't lie to you.

You wait patiently at the door for him for two weeks, three days, and sixteen hours. When he comes home, he finds you sitting on the floor like you always do with your head in your knees and a sleepy expression on your face.

He seems colder. More withdrawn, for some reason.

"Miss me?" Sae asks, but he's not even looking at you. He makes his way over to the kitchen and dumps a cup of rice into the cooker, suitcase abandoned at the door unpacked.

You trail behind him curiously, watching him in confusion as he washes it in the sink. He pauses, finally glancing at you before reaching over and dumping a second cup of rice in.

"I stress eat. Don't tell my coach."

The words don't make much sense to you, but you nod anyways.

For the first time in months, he places a bowl of warm rice in front of you. You do as he does, say thanks for the food in your head even though you can't eat, and observe him. You both sit quietly in the dim light of the apartment, moonlight beaming through your single rickety window.

He only gets four bites in before he puts his head in his hands and sobs.

You've never seen someone cry so hard before. Usually, they only do it when they first catch a glimpse of you and flee in terror. You've never known it to be such a painful sound— like a bird singing for the sky but never finding it.

Sae sits there for a long time just crying to himself, not caring that your presence is still watching. It's not like you'd ever judge him or have the voice to speak this secret, anyways.

"Fuck—" he hiccups, wiping up his face. "—Sorry."

You look at him funny. He has no reason to apologize. He's just a kid. A 15 year old kid who needs to stress eat in the solitude of his lonely apartment right now. It makes your chest squeeze; an unfamiliar, horrible feeling that's completely new to you. You wonder if this is what all the anime he watches calls a heart.

By the time he finishes crying, his rice is cold. And when he looks up, his eyes widen. Your lips are trembling and you look like you want to shout at him, but you can't. You are dead. You're a ghost. You can't yell some sense into him, even if you tried.

In the pale moonlight shining into the room, he can see tears illuminated on your cheeks.

Sae is 16 years old when he meets his first partner.

"They're nice," he reassures you as he slicks his bangs up with gel. You shake your head in disapproval and he rolls his eyes. You always liked his bangs down, thinks he looks better that way. "Well, I can't stay single forever."

You scowl at him and swivel on your heel to stubbornly deny his claims. He just laughs.

"You're seriously jealous?"

You shoot him a glare.

"If you really don't like them, you could always scare them away. You are a ghost, aren't you?" He reaches up to pat your head as he always does. And as always, his hand phases through you.

He turns around to fix his hair again, leaning into the mirror to see himself closer.

You're not sure if you even have human features. You can't see them in a reflection, anyways. Even if you did, you're sure they're pretty scary.

You glance at Sae in the reflection. He looks as good as ever, no longer a scrawny little 13 year old kid who eats rice for breakfast every morning. You wonder if his partner is pretty like he is.

He must notice the chill in the air grow ten times colder— a telling sign that your mood is dropping. He turns around to see what has happened, only to find you sulking.

"What?"

You pout, gesturing to the mirror. He looks to the vanity, then to you, and he shakes his head with an exasperated smile.

"I was wondering when you'd ask," he says as if this was a conversation he's been waiting for. And then he talks. Talks more than you've heard in a long time— since he came home from Japan, probably.

He's gotten meaner over the years. He was always a rude little kid, but being pushed around in football must have given him thicker skin and a sharper tongue. You've never known him to be a saint of a human, someone who speaks so eloquently in their descriptions. But here he is now, defying your every expectation like he always does.

He tells you what colour your hair is. Compares the shape of your head to a fruit you can't recall an image of. Gives you a detailed explanation of all your flaws and marks and why he thinks they're so perfect because it proves that you were indeed alive and human at some point.

"You're beautiful," he concludes casually, as if he's not turning the entire world on its head right now.

Silence fills the room as he waits for your response. You don't do anything but gawk at him, and he chuckles.

He doesn't show up to his date that night.

"Your hair got longer," Sae points out one day while he's scrolling through his phone.

Your eyes flutter open from where your head rests on the coffee table. You hadn't even noticed. Can ghosts grow? 

"You know, I used to think you'd stay the same forever, but you've been growing up with me. It's cute."

Have you? Is it cute? Are you seriously so tethered to him that you've been unconsciously changing to match him?

Sae puts his phone down at your confusion. "Should I give you a birthday if you're going to grow up?"

You don't know what a birthday is. When he tries to explain it, you're even more perplexed. Ghosts don't have birthdays. They have... deathdays.

He puts a cake in front of you anyways and lets you blow out the candles.

Sae is 17 years old when he gets the eviction notice.

Four years. Four long, hard, unbelievably painful years later, and he's finally being kicked out of his house.

13 year old Sae would have celebrated. All he feels now is despair.

He doesn't tell you. He can't. How can he explain that he won't wake up every morning at 6am sharp to make you eggs? That you won't have someone around who will tell you every little thing that's changed about you from the last day? That you won't be able to doodle him little incomprehensible blobs with dry rice anymore?

He shouldn't care so much. You're not chained to this Earth. You might just disappear once he leaves, inperceptable to anyone else. The thought makes him so sick that he throws up that night. He tells you he ate some bad food.

Sae doesn't want you to feel sad or lonely, but it's not like he can just become a squatter in this place. His dream is to play football, not be thrown into jail.

You wake up one morning, and he's gone.

There isn't a note. There isn't an explanation anywhere to be found. There isn't even a trace of evidence that Itoshi Sae ever lived here.

Well, except for the plate of eggs and bowl of rice sitting on the stove.

You thought you would have been used to being alone by now. For some time, you were used to it. But that was many years ago.

You're not sure how long you've been haunting this apartment in Madrid, nor do you know how much time passes after Sae leaves. The world seems to come to a halt, actually. Without him, what fun is being a ghost?

Now you're just a lost soul like all the others. There isn't anything special about you. You're just the ghost that used to haunt Itoshi Sae and wake him up from his naps.

For the first time in years, you only know one thing. A singular fact that keeps you bound to this world: it's your duty to haunt this home. There is nothing else.

No one moves in after Sae leaves. No one new comes to be haunted. No one dares to set foot into this apartment. You remember that there were moments when life flickered inside of you, if even for just a fraction of your infinite time. The reason for that has abandoned you without explanation.

There's a knock on the door one day. You can't open it, and the person outside doesn't bother sticking around to see you phasing through the door to look around.

There's a birthday cake on the floor with candles that say '19' sticking out of it.

Only one human in the entire world would have deemed today to be your 19th birthday. He's nowhere to be seen.

He moves back to Japan on his 21st birthday. Sae is having trouble remembering what you look like, despite seeing you in his dreams every night.

It's a terrible realization. So terrible that it makes him sob into his pillow at night when no one in the world is awake to hear his anguish.

Japan is lonelier than Madrid. He never thought it would happen, and he blames you entirely.

He doesn't have anyone waiting for him when he opens the door to his luxury penthouse apartment. He only washes one plate in the morning. He wakes up from his midday naps undisturbed and rested.

Sae misses you deeply. And he can't help but wonder if you feel the same.

(You don't know what the yearning ache inside of you is. You don't know what to call it.

You miss him, too. You just can't put a name to the feeling.)

He doesn't stop seeing you in wisps; little blurs in his peripheral that make his head turn fast as lightning. Wherever he looks, you're gone.

It's not fair that you're a ghost who both literally and figuratively haunts him. He'd like to move on in life and forget about those 4 miserable years he spent living in that damned apartment.

He can't. Sae is incapable of moving on from that place. The irony of it is that you actually can't move on from that place, for some reason.

He would give anything to have you haunting him again. It doesn't matter where in the world the two of you are, if you were together everything would be okay. He's impossibly lonely without you.

You start to think that you're the selfish one.

The idea of leaving this terrible apartment in Madrid scares you to your very core— whatever soul is resting in your incorporeal body. It's not fair to place the blame entirely on Sae. Not when you're too wimpy to leave this place and find him.

Death is lonely without him.

One step forward, one day at a time. It's the advice Sae used to mutter to himself while getting ready in the morning.

One step forward, one day at a time. One step forward, one day at a time. And day by day, you're slowly inching closer to the door.

Sae talks to Rin and all he can think about is your confused smiles and head tilts. He talks to his parents and all he can imagine is how cold the room would be if it were you. He talks to his fucking therapist and thinks that all of her shitty advice can't compare to your quiet understanding— that your tears of solidarity are the only thing that could make him feel better.

It's fucked up, really, that he can't move on. His body is in Japan going through the motions: playing football, being famous, being interviewed and going home to nothing. His heart is in Madrid. You took it with you and refuse to let go.

You're the closest thing to love he's ever felt, perhaps— his only friend in Spain. His only reason not to leave. A ghost from his childhood that protected him in his sleep and ate bland eggs for breakfast across the table from him every morning. A ghost that would sit on the floor and wait for him to come home every day. A ghost that kept him company when he had no one else.

He loves you. He doesn't. He needs you. He doesn't. He misses you. He doesn't. Whatever. What does it matter now?

"So playing football has always been your dream?"

Sae stares blankly at the interviewer. He's reminded of a distant conversation: he is laying in bed looking at a ghost with a lump in his throat, and then he makes his first and only friend in Spain.

"Yes."

"And now that you're back in Japan, will you be playing for the national team?"

"I have no interest in playing on such a weak team." In other words, he has no reason to stay in Japan.

"So where will you go?"

Anywhere but here, he wants to say. In reality, he doesn't know where to go anymore if not to his old apartment in Spain. He just knows that he wants to come home to your sleepy face.

(That night, he makes two bowls of rice. He cries like he's 15 years old again and just ruined his relationship with his brother.)

You've never been outside before.

You've heard about it, almost entirely from Sae but also from little snippets of anime he liked to watch. It's brighter than you imagined it to be, and warmer. You're not sure you've ever felt so warm before— it's hard to when you are a walking freezer.

There isn't anyone to tell you where to go. No one pays you any mind. You wonder if you even exist anymore outside of the small confines of that old apartment.

Something tells you that you do.

You don't know where to start looking. He could be all the way across the globe for all you know, though he did used to talk about his home country.

You have no map. You have no sense of direction. You have no one to ask for help. 

All you have is the soul caged within your ghostly body tugging in one direction, and wispy feet dragging your body along in response.

Sae is 23 years old when he finally signs the contract to play for Japan, after months of being pestered by Rin about it.

His relationship with his brother is complicated. On one hand, he feels as though Rin will never truly forgive him for what he did when he was 15. On the other, he looks so ecstatic to be playing football together again that Sae wonders if their discourse was imaginary.

Japan is just a smidge less lonely with Rin in his life.

He wants to tell you all about it. That everything worked out and it's fine now. That you can stop weeping for him and to wipe up the tears that fall into nothing.

He counts the distance between you. Fourteen thousand kilometres separate him from telling you how he's living his new dream: playing football with his little brother again.

Fourteen thousand kilometers, ten years of needing you, and a reminder set on his phone to buy you a birthday cake again this year.

His heart aches.

Japan is loud and busy and everyone is always in a hurry to get places.

You have to wonder if Sae really grew up in a city like this, and how he turned out so calm and unmovable. The street names are all in Kanji you can't read, but your soul tells you that you're going the right way, anyways.

There's a crowd gathering when your feet finally come to a halt. Lights flash and there are fancy looking people with microphones clamouring toward the center.

It's only a fraction of a second that your eyes meet, and then someone shoves him into the back of the car and they drive off.

He must be famous here, too.

Sae is 24 years old tossing and turning in his bed, wondering if you were just a figment of his imagination or if you were truly standing there under a streetlamp watching him.

It wouldn't be the first time he dreamed you into existence; on some occasions you feel so real that he nearly reaches out to attempt to pat your head, like he always used to do when he was younger.

He goes back to that spot a couple hours later. The crowd is long gone and it's the dead of night— no one would be around to witness Itoshi Sae looking psychotic.

He doesn't find you in that spot. Instead, you're two blocks down and crouched in front of the window of a 24 hour shop. There's an ad for sparklers, and though you can't read the poster itself, the picture makes you stare with wide eyes.

He crouches down beside you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

"Do you want one?" He asks. You look at him in a strange way and his knees grow weak beneath him. You nod.

He comes out five minutes later with a few packs in his hand, walking away from you down the street to the park. You follow him quietly as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

Sae holds one out, flicks the lighter in his pocket open and ignites the first sparkler. You watch it in fascination, ghostly form illuminated in warm orange and yellow light.

He smiles at you as if 7 years of distance never existed between you.

When the sparkler dies out, he lights another. And another. And another, until he's gone through all the packets he could afford with the Yen in his wallet right now.

As if 7 years of distance never existed between you, he reaches out to pat your head. His hand falls through you.

You think Sae's new apartment is pretentious, but it's clean and open and doesn't smell like mildew.

It's hard to imagine what kind of purpose you had before him— all your memories are flooded with his hands and eyes and bangs and small smiles reserved for you. You think that the only reason you were ever materialized into the mortal plane was to haunt him, and only him. Itoshi Sae's permanent looming presence.

He doesn't seem to mind. In fact, you've noticed he's been smiling more lately since you started waiting for him to come home by the door.

Sae is 25 years old when you fall asleep beside him in his bed.

You don't care that he's a kicker or a blanket hog in his sleep. It's not like either of those would affect you. He watches your sleeping face carefully, waiting to see if he would ever wake up from this blissful dream and be alone again.

But every time he wakes up, there you are.

You've grown since he left you in Madrid— you don't look like some lost little kid anymore, at least. He wonders if your souls are truly so intertwined that you would change alongside him, regardless of the distance.

Your eyes flutter open and his breath catches in his throat. You blink at him slowly in the pale moonlight, brows furrowed.

You point at him. Then yourself.

You. Me.

He nods in understanding.

When he drops a plate of protein pancakes in front of you for breakfast, you look confused.

"Oh, sorry. Do you want rice?"

You shake your head. You don't care what's for breakfast, as long as you're sitting across from him while he eats it.

"I'm going to be the world's best midfielder," he tells you one day. You're on the floor and he's on the couch, and it's like time had never even passed.

You don't know what that means, but it's his dream so it must be important. The most important thing in the world.

What you don't know is that it's not his entire dream. World's best midfielder doesn't mean a thing if he can't come home to tell you all about it.

You are dead.

You're a ghost haunting Itoshi Sae— one that followed him from Madrid all the way to Japan. You don't remember how, or when, or why you died. You can't remember what your face looks like either, no matter how much Sae tries to describe it to you. 

You are dead. You're a ghost knocking over Sae's belongings to get his attention when you want it. You're the ghost curled up in bed with him even though he has to wear two layers to stay warm because of it. You're the ghost watching him rotate through different breakfasts that he says could never compare to a good old warm bowl of rice.

You are a ghost, and Itoshi Sae gave you a name. A birthday. A purpose greater than being a loud nuisance.

You are a ghost who likes to watch him light sparklers on his balcony. Who feels the things described only in the books he reads to you. Who learned to love somewhere along the way.

You are dead, and somehow alive at the same time.

(One day, Sae will be brave. One day, he will tell you he loves you. One day, he will thank you for waiting for him at the door when he comes home.)

© ALABOADOA 2023 — please do not translate or post my works to other platforms.

[m1ss-n0mer]

Currently thinking about the DoA.

Nobody in that organisation had the same goals. Fukuchi wanted to end a war, Fyodor wanted to further whatever the fuck he's doing, Nikolai hoped that the organisation would bring him closer to freedom. Sigma wanted a home. Bram never wanted to be there in the first place, as far as we know.

They were all just people who were alone who ended up together, but unlike the ADA, they're only there to use each other. They don't become close, a lot of them can relate to each other, but it doesn't help.

All organisations in bsd have a colour scheme, and the Decay's is white and purple.

Fyodor wore a white hat for the majority of his time with the DoA, while the other members all had white hair, maybe because he always intended to betray the organisation and was just disguising himself. He also played victim with Ace in season 3 only to outsmart him by the end of the episode.

Fukuchi wore the red-ish hunting dogs uniform, but used Amenogozen, which is sometimes shown to be purple and sometimes white, since he knew how terrible all the Decay were and was just using them like a weapon for what he believed was a good cause.

Nikolai wears mostly white, but a bit of black. He joined for selfish reasons, but in the beginning it was with what he considered good intentions; he wanted freedom, and didn't come to the conclusion that he needed to kill the guy who introduced him to the DoA in order to do that until later.

Bram never wanted to join. What we see of his outfit at that point is all black, but it's not until the sword is pulled out and he's free from the DoA that he has a full body and therefore full black attire.

Sigma almost entirely consists of white and purple, because, until Atsushi tries to save him, he has no loyalties besides the DoA; no intention of leaving.

But Nikolai defects and saves both himself and Sigma when Fyodor most likely intended for them to die, in order to kill him in Meursault. Sigma is ready to join the ADA if and when he gets the chance. Bram escapes with the help of Aya.

And then Fyodor abandons all pretense of being at all loyal to the DoA by killing Bram and Fukuchi, and then his new outfit (Bram's) is entirely black, and he's not wearing a white hat to cover up that he's not like the rest of them.

But none of them are entirely loyal, so what makes him different? I can't say for sure.

What I DO know, is that the DoA have ceased needing each other, so I think all the ones that are still alive are going to get a colour scheme change pretty soon. (Bram is too dead for that, but Fukuchi is Amenogozen now and Fyodor, as mentioned above, is wearing all black.)

So, for Nikolai, his past outfit was black and white, but primarily white. Also what it means for his character that a clothing change may or may not mean he gets rid of his jester persona is, uh, content for another post once I think about it more because I feel like that'll be Big.

And Sigma? Probably, he'll be wearing something more ADA adjacent (beige and possibly soft sunset tones, I believe) at some point soon.

Anyways yeah in conclusion the DoA was never a proper organisation, none of them cared for each other nor were they working towards the same goals, their needs just happened to align at some point. Also this is reflected in their character designs.

[cinnamontoastcrunch-15]

Living in Secrecy

I couldn't stop thinking about this idea when I was in the middle of a uni class so ENJOY xoxo

"Hey, y'know Rose?" James starts speaking as soon as he's sat beside Sirius in the common room. He seems... antsy; Sirius watching his leg bounce, confused.

"Hufflepuff in our year, right?" He asks. He doesn't know her particularly well. Part of him thinks they were in the same charms class for a year, but he barely remembers fifth year charms. Too much was happening back then.

James nods emphatically, eyes brightening.

"Yeah! Her! I've heard she likes you. Wants you to ask her out."

"Oh, really?" Sirius asks. He tries to muster a sense of interest into his tone, but honestly? He couldn't care less. James, who unfortunately can read him like a book, picks up on this scarily quickly.

"I thought, maybe, it would be... good for you. Y'know, to go on a date." He's practically stumbling through it, but it's enough to make everything click.

Ah.

Right.

He's worried.

Sirius used to date around. He's not exactly proud of it, he spent a lot of time denying a very big part of himself, and he broke a lot of hearts in the process.

All of that ground to a halt when Remus kissed him on the astronomy tower.

He couldn't deny anything then. When Remus' lips met his, all he could think was that they'd wasted too much time not being together in this way. He's not quite there yet, but at least he knows that now. He knows he has a long way to go, but at least he has Remus. Even if he isn't ready to tell people yet, Remus understands.

That also meant no more girls.

He had gone from never being single in the eyes of the school to rejecting every advance thrown his way. He's been so wrapped up in the past few months with Remus, that he hadn't even thought about how confusing a switch that must have been for his friends.

"Prongs, I'm not really interested," Sirius says gently. He does want to tell James. It's pretty tempting, but he can't get the words past his mind and into his mouth. Not yet.

"How come?" James asks, confused. "I'm not saying you need to go back to the way you dated before!" He says quickly. "I'm glad you took a bit of a break, really I am. It's just... I don't know, I thought maybe you've had a bit of a confidence knock, or something. You've gone all quiet about your love life."

"Well, I mean, there's not much to tell," Sirius says with a shrug, panic creeping through him ever so slightly. James watches him carefully for a moment, before just nodding once.

"Okay."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah, just... think about it? Could get you back on your feet." Sirius nods dutifully.

Thank fuck that conversation's over.

He skips Divination. It doesn't matter either way, he'll pass that exam with flying colours.

Instead, he opts for laying on his bed in the dorm, lazily levitating shit with his wand. He's mostly just trying to whittle away the time, waiting for Remus.

The door clicks open, and Sirius can't help but smile before he even catches a glimpse of him.

Remus is humming Bohemian Rhapsody.

Christ, it's so bloody endearing, Sirius is grinning by the time he's stopped, noticing Sirius' presence. As he sits up, his eyes finally meeting Remus', he watches a slightly embarrassed blush spread across Remus' cheeks. He adjusts until his legs are over the end of his bed, revelling in the way his heart speeds up at the sight of Remus.

"Aren't you meant to be in Divination?" He recovers quickly, arching an eyebrow as he drops his books onto his bed.

"Mm, told Prongs to say I'd foreseen my own death and was feeling a little shaken," he answers with a shrug and a wry smile. Remus shakes his head, but Sirius can see the affection in it. He quickly gets close enough for Sirius to grab both of his hands and pull him close, before wrapping his arms around Remus' waist. He's rewarded with a hand in his hair and Merlin, he's never felt this way before. He relaxes into Remus, letting his eyes slide shut.

"You okay?" Remus asks gently. Sirius nods into him, letting him go long enough for him to sit on the bed next to Sirius. He doesn't waste a second in leaning in and connecting their lips.

He doesn't think he'll ever get over this. This feeling, this want that builds in his core whenever the two of them kiss.

How did he ever think he was straight?

"Oh," he starts, pulling away begrudgingly as the story comes to the front of his mind, "Prongs tried to get me a date, today."

"Really?" Sirius watches amusement cross Remus' face. He nods, squeezing Remus' hand once.

"Some Hufflepuff girl. I think he thinks I've lost my mojo, or something." As he talks, he watches thoughtfulness begin to flash in Remus' eyes.

"I mean... have you considered maybe telling him?"

Sirius doesn't mean to tense up; it's involuntary. The moment he does, he knows he needs to talk himself out of this. He promised Remus that they'd tell people eventually, but... no, not yet.

"Why? He'll drop it on his own, when he realises I'm not interested," he says, forcing his shoulders to relax and waving his hand a little dismissively.

"I know you don't... I'm not saying you have to tell everyone," Remus says gently, "but, I mean, it would make everything a lot easier, right? Prongs wouldn't be trying to set you up all the time." He smiles, and Sirius really wishes he could reciprocate it. His smile is just so lovely.

"I don't know. I don't think now's the right time, y'know? Quidditch has been stressing him out, NEWTs are getting closer, Lily's finally started looking his way, it's just- why dump one more thing on him?"

They both know that's not why.

"Sirius, it's okay. You don't have to tell him tomorrow, or anything, but... have you thought about it? You know he won't look at you any differently, it's Prongs."

He doesn't. Nobody knows that for sure.

Sirius doesn't really want to say that. He doesn't know what he wants to say, really.

"It's not the right time," he settles on, hurried. Honestly, he just wants this conversation to be over.

"Okay," Remus says tiredly, pulling his hand out of Sirius' to scrub over his face. "Do think about it though? Please? We can't stay a secret forever."

"Yeah, I know," Sirius says. "He doesn't need to know now, though. It's fine, it doesn't matter," he says quickly, waving off the conversation and turning back to Remus. "We've got half an hour..." Remus' face stops him in his tracks. He almost looks stricken. "Moony, what's wrong?"

"It doesn't matter?" He repeats, face going slightly dark. "What, us?"

"That's not what I meant. I just... we're not there, are we? There's no point right now." He's panicking a little, everything starting to come out wrong as the anxiety comes back in volumes.

"Right, yeah. No point. Haven't made up your mind about us yet."

"That's not what I meant," he says helplessly. He doesn't know how to tell Remus what he means, because he isn't even sure. He can't tell Remus why he's so scared, he just is. It's a little embarrassing, really.

"Mm. I don't think I want to talk about this anymore." Remus gets up, Sirius' heart sinking to his stomach.

Fuck.

God, he's really cocked this up.

"I'm going to the library."

Before Sirius can figure out how to make it better, Remus is already out the door. He drops his head into his hands and lets out a groan.

He's such a bloody idiot.

"Padfoot." James stumbles up to Sirius. He's leaning against the wall beside the portrait hole, watching the party go on and just trying to drink himself into oblivion. In his defence, he's in a foul mood, after what happened with Remus. He just needs to sulk and forget about it for a bit.

They can talk about it tomorrow.

It doesn't help that Remus is noticeably absent from a party that he helped organise. Sirius knows it's his fault. He knows that he shouldn't have said any of what he said. Sure, maybe Remus overreacted, but he knows how Remus' brain works, he should have been more careful.

So, yeah, he's feeling a bit shit.

"Wotcher, Prongs." He reaches a hand out to steady James a little as he settles beside Sirius.

"S'goin on? You're being all..."

"M'fine," he answers with a shrug, draining the rest of his drink. He can't exactly tell James why he's being such a moody git, can he? Instead, he opts for straightening up and staring at his empty goblet. "Need a refill."

With that, he heads over to the drinks table. He's starting to feel comfortably fuzzy, zoning out as he pours just a little too much firewhiskey into his goblet. Just for tonight. Tonight he can let himself go a little, and he can fix things with Remus once he's cooled off a little.

Things start to blur from there.

He's not drunk, per se, but he's getting there. He's tipsy enough that he doesn't question James talking to a girl who looks weirdly familiar.

He doesn't even question it when she walks over to him.

"Hi, Sirius!" She starts cheerily.

"Hey. Rose, right?"

-

Remus is sulking.

It's an embarrassing thing to admit, but he is. He's sitting on his bed, pretending to read as he listens to the party downstairs.

He also knows that he's not really in the right.

He told Sirius he'd give him time, and he knows that. The thing is, he's had two months of Sirius gently shutting the conversation down when it comes to telling people about them. Surely two months is enough time. Also, he did say there was 'no point' in telling James about them. Sirius' best friend, his brother, and there's no point?

Remus has a right to be upset about that.

The more he thinks about it, dwells on it, the more he realises that he needs to give Sirius some more credit. Yeah, he's not ready to tell James yet but, Merlin, Sirius is the best person Remus knows. He's scared. Of course he's bloody scared, with the upbringing he's had.

When they're alone, he takes every available opportunity to make Remus feel like the most important person in the world. He knows Sirius by now, he should know that Sirius needs real time to think on this. They need to have a real conversation about it.

That can wait, though. They shouldn't be ending the day like this.

Shit.

He needs to go and apologise.

Sirius needs to know that it's okay. That Remus really bloody likes him. It's okay if Sirius needs time, he just needs to tell him that. They just need to communicate.

Problem solved.

With that, he shuts his book, leaving it forgotten as he pulls the door to the dorm open. He feels lighter, somehow. Hopeful. They can work through this. That's what couples do, right?

He bounds down the stairs as quickly as his hip will let him, out into the thick of the party. His eyes scan the room, searching for Sirius.

It doesn't take long to spot him, talking to another seventh year. Remus recognises her, he's pretty sure she was in their charms class, a few years back. He's sure he can interrupt them, that's fine-

Until she leans in and kisses him.

Oh, fuck.

Just like that, Remus' heart stops.

For a moment, he just stares. He can't fucking look away. It's no more than a second or two, but it may as well have been hours.

God, he feels sick.

Finally, his brain decides to set him free. He manages to turn away as his soul fucking shatters. He loses all control of his breathing, going shallow as he's thrown into the depths of a panic attack he can't save himself from.

He's an idiot.

He's an idiot for thinking he would ever be enough, he's an idiot for letting himself get this far.

He's an idiot for falling in love with the prat.

The tears start before he has a chance to calm down, pulling the curtains shut around his bed. He cries until his throat is raw, until his head aches, until he exhausts himself. He only has one thought as he falls into a fitful sleep.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

Remus wakes up as early as he can, the next day.

The others are probably sleeping off hangovers, anyway. It gives him the chance to slip into the bathroom, unnoticed.

As he turns the shower on, he tries to figure out how the hell he feels. It's like he's having an out of body experience. His body isn't letting him feel any of the night before.

He doesn't know how long he stays there, letting the water hit him, staring into space and trying to figure out how the fuck he's going to tell Sirius.

They were going to go to Hogsmeade, today. Slip away from James and Peter so that they could spend some time together. Instead, Remus has to relive what happened last night. It's not exactly a conversation he's excited to have.

Still, he can't avoid it any longer when someone starts knocking the door.

"Oi, Moony!" James' voice rings out. "I love you, mate, but you've been in there for years!"

"Sorry," he says back, trying to force some semblance of brightness into his tone.

It doesn't take him long to switch the shower off, wrapping a towel around his waist and emerging from the bathroom. James smiles at him, but it quickly gives way to concern. Remus must not be doing a very good job at being fine.

"You okay?"

He just nods once, a horrible lump forming in his throat that he knows will have him breaking down if he's not careful. Thankfully, James is slightly too hungover to ask, so he just squeezes Remus' shoulder once and disappears into the bathroom. The moment the door shuts, Remus realises.

Sirius is awake.

Awake, hungover, and watching him with concern.

"Hey," he starts at a whisper. Remus glances over to Pete's bed. The curtains are drawn tight.

There's no getting out of this.

"Can we talk today?" He asks softly.

For a moment, Remus just watches him. He hates the pang of worry that hits him when he notices the furrow in Sirius' brow, the way his teeth worry at his lower lip.

Well, until the night before comes screaming back to him.

He shakes his head, walking over to his bed.

"No, I don't think we can."

"Moony, what-? Are you alright?" He asks, and Merlin, he really thinks Remus doesn't know? He pulls his chest open, rooting through it for something to wear.

"I think you can answer that," he says blankly. When he doesn't get an answer, he turns to face Sirius. He just looks confused. "That Hufflepuff, from last night. She's the one James was trying to set you up with, right?" He watches as the realisation flits across Sirius' face. His eyes widen, Remus letting Sirius clear his throat a little in his shock, sitting up straight.

"Shit. Moony, you know that wasn't what-"

"What, wasn't what it looked like?" He asks. "I really don't want to hear it, Sirius. You said you weren't sure, then got with a girl. Message received." He shuts his chest a little too hard, wincing as the sound reverberates through his skull.

"Wait, Rem, please. Prongs was just-"

The curtains around Peter's bed slide open, and Sirius' mouth snaps shut. Remus turns and offers Pete a half-hearted smile, before climbing onto his bed and moving to close the curtains.

"Remus," Sirius whispers, eyes pleading.

For a moment, Remus wants to relent. He wants to pull Sirius into a hug and make everything okay. Forget that this happened and draw a line under it.

No.

Not this time.

"Leave me alone, Sirius."

With that, he shuts the curtains and bites back tears.

He almost misses breakfast, in the end. He sits and waits until he hears everyone else leave the dorm, not willing to face any of the marauders, really.

When he does eventually get to breakfast, he sits with the girls instead. Lily shoots him a concerned glance, a question in her eyes. He just shakes his head. No talking. Not right now.

He spares a glance in the direction of his usual spot. James and Peter are sat opposite one another, whispering with confused frowns. Sirius is nowhere to be seen, James throwing Remus a glance every few seconds. When he spots Remus watching him, face blank, he falters.

"You okay?" He mouths across the table.

No. He's really bloody not. He's actually a little worried that if he opens his mouth he'll burst into tears. Instead, he opts for a shrug, turning back to his food.

He feels a little like he's underwater, like nothing's real.

Breakfast is excruciatingly long, even though he's the first one finished. He needs to go. Get away from everybody. From everything.

Usually, he doesn't want to go to class around the full moon. His skin is too busy crawling, his head buzzing to the point that he can't focus. Right now, he'd fucking kill to go to class and distract himself. He stands quickly, desperate to leave. The moment he does, his heart rate spikes and he practically blacks out, stumbling a little over the bench.

Shit.

Yeah, he needs to sit down.

Lily's up in a flash, guiding Remus back onto the bench by the shoulders. She swings her legs over and stands in front of him.

"Slow down, take a breath," she says gently.

He watches James' walk over, before letting his eyes slide shut and forcing himself to breathe slowly. He just needs to hurry up and calm down. They're not going to let him leave if he doesn't.

“Come on, let’s go.” She offers him her hand, slowly helping him up.

“Go?” He asks with a frown. To be perfectly honest, he wants to go and lock himself in his bed, wallow for a little where nobody can bother him.

“The hospital wing,” she answers, James nodding like it should be obvious. Remus goes to protest. He’s not that unwell, this happens all the time around the full-

Hold on.

The hospital wing. Nobody can bother him there.

Lily’s just given him the solution.

With that decided, he lets her lead him out of the Great Hall, trying to ignore the eyes on him. James and Peter are close behind, as they walk together to the wing. Madame Pomfrey’s bound to give him something to let him sleep through the day, if he asks.

The moment he arrives, Madame Pomfrey’s sitting in front of him. He doesn’t say much, Lily explaining on his behalf. Poppy nods, listening carefully.

“I think I have just the thing. One moment, lovely.” She pats his knee, standing and walking away.

“D’you want us to stay?” James asks, offering Remus a small smile.

Thank fuck. He shakes his head, trying to mirror James’ smile.

“I’ll be fine. See you later?” They all start to leave, Lily squeezing his hand before she leaves.

It doesn’t take long for Madame Pomfrey to come back, potion in hand.

“It’ll slow your heart down a little,” she explains, as he pulls the cork off and drinks it dutifully. He can still feel her eyes on him, watching him carefully. “How are you feeling, Remus?”

“Oh, it’s nothing,” Remus says back with a shrug. “Freaked Lily out more than me.”

“Mm. How about in general? You seem a little dejected.”

He stiffens a little at that. Poppy’s scarily good at this stuff, but he was hoping that she’d think he was just stressed because the moon’s close. For a moment, he goes to say exactly that; he’s just feeling antsy, what with the moon being so close.

The moment he opens his mouth, a lump forms in his throat. He can’t form the word fine, it just won’t happen.

God, he’s actually going to cry.

The tears spill over before he has a chance to blink them back. Before he knows what he’s doing, he’s telling Poppy everything. He’s careful to leave Sirius’ name out of it, but that’s about as much control he’s capable of. Embarrassingly enough, Poppy hears everything. The conversations they’d had about secrecy, the argument, the fact that Remus wanted to tell him he loved him. Absolutely everything, through tears and a fair amount of hyperventilating.

To her credit, Poppy listens to it all. She sits and lets him vent everything, quietly empathetic right to the last word. Once he’s finished, he feels a bit stupid. The hospital wing isn’t meant for this. He’s taking up her time. He forces himself to take a deep breath, swiping the tears away quickly.

“Sorry.”

“Remus, dear, you have no reason to apologise.” She pulls her wand out, seamlessly bringing a bar of chocolate from her office. “Here. You can stay a while, if you want to.” He fiddles with the wrapper, nodding gratefully.

“Thanks, Madame Pomfrey.”

“Of course. Have a bit of a break.”

She leaves him alone, then. Standing and leaving with a reassuring smile. He practically exhausted himself with all of that. He doesn’t even realise that he’s about to fall asleep until he’s out.

When he wakes up hours later, James and Peter are talking next to his bed. He blinks harshly, sitting up. He didn't mean to sleep for that long, but at least it got rid of his headache.

"Hey," James says. "Feeling better?"

Remus nods once. He actually feels like he's a being a bit dramatic about everything, but it's not like James can hear that, can he?

"Yeah. Ready to go, actually." He swings his legs out of bed, quickly shooting Poppy a grateful glance.

They walk back to the common room slowly. Remus doesn't really speak much. He doesn't have anything to say.

"Padfoot's pissed at me," James says suddenly, scanning the map. "I'm pretty sure he's spent the whole day trying to avoid me. Look, he isn't even in the dorm!"

Remus wants to say something, then. Say that Sirius just feels awkward after what happened between them. Still, he bites his tongue.

"Well," Pete pipes up, "you did get a girl he didn't know go and kiss him."

Remus practically stops in his tracks, stunned. It takes way too much effort to keep his legs moving.

"I didn't know she was going to kiss him!" James protested. "All I told her to do was ask him out!"

"Yeah," Pete shrugs. "He doesn't know that though, does he?"

The realisation starts to dawn on Remus, like ice water running down his back.

"He stopped her in her tracks, anyway. I don't know, I feel like it should have blown over by now, y'know? Nothing even happened!" James says, frustrated, guilt laced through his voice.

"Oh, fuck," Remus groans to himself. He's really fucked up.

"Moony, you okay?" James asks.

"Yeah. No. I don't- I'll see you later," he says quickly, grabbing the map from James and practically running off. He doesn't even think about how confused his friends must be. He can't. His mind is stuck on Sirius.

Merlin, poor Sirius.

With a quick glance at the map, he runs across the castle. It's like his brain has woken up, adrenaline feeding him, letting him ignore his hip. Nothing feels as important as getting to Sirius right now. He's jumped to the worst conclusion of his life.

It doesn't take him long to get to the One Eyed Witch passage. Sirius hasn't moved, as Remus shuts the map, pulling the entrance open. He jumps a mile at Remus' arrival, and Remus catches him subtly wiping the tears from his cheeks. His heart tugs painfully, guilt following along with it.

"M- Remus, sorry, I-"

"I, er..." Remus starts quickly, cheeks pinking a little. "I actually came to find you."

Sirius' eyes widen, and Remus steps inside, shutting the passage behind him.

"I- Padfoot, I'm so sorry."

"You're..."

"I should have let you explain. I shouldn't have just... assumed that you'd do something like that." He says gently, sitting opposite Sirius in the small passage.

"Moony, I didn't- she- I promise-" Sirius' face twists awkwardly as he stumbles for the words.

"I know," Remus answers, reaching out and grabbing Sirius' hands in his. "James said. Honestly? I should have known. It was awful of me, not letting you explain. I'm so sorry."

"No, I get it. Really, Moony, I do," Sirius says hurriedly, squeezing Remus' hands once. "After what I said, I get it. I'm- Christ, I was an idiot saying any of that." Remus tries to wave him off, but Sirius doesn't stop. "No, really. I don't think any of what I said. I'm sure, Remus. I really am sure. I just- I don't know, I freaked out. I was still thinking about Prongs not finding out, but I also wanted to tell you I love you, and I didn't-" He cuts himself off, and Remus can see the shock ripple through him.

Sirius loves him?

"Shit. Bugger. I didn't mean to-" He buries his face into his hands, groaning. "Sorry."

There's already a smile growing on Remus' face, though. This is the last thing he expected.

"Sirius," he says gently, reaching up and pulling Sirius' hands from his face. "I love you."

Sirius' breath catches in his throat, eyes darting over Remus' face.

"You- Merlin, Remus, I love you so much. I'm so in love with you," he says quickly, and Remus just can't take it anymore. He leans in and connects their lips without a second thought. Sirius lets out a muffled noise of surprise, hands moving to cup Remus' face.

It dawns on Remus, in this moment, that nobody else needs to know. He's been so worried about how Sirius felt, that he'd essentially taken the fact that Sirius isn't ready to tell people as a sign that he didn't like Remus.

Who else needs to know? This is theirs.

They can stay secret for a little longer.

[ramen8008]

Imagine one day Inej ends up mentioning that Kaz's birthday is coming up soon (because if anyone knows his birthday it's her) to Nina and Nina being Nina decides they HAVE to throw a surprise party even though it would be almost impossible to surprise Kaz.

So all of them plan a surprise birthday party and Kaz is freaking out over why is everyone acting so suspicious because Kaz being Kaz could never suspect a surprise birthday party for him. Hell even he forgot his own birthday.

And then the surprise birthday freaks him out and breaks his facade (only for like 3 seconds) where he is so confused as to what the hell is this and why is everything so colourful and why is everyone smiling and singing? And Nina should really stop singing.

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

Everyone: SURPRISE!!

Kaz: *shook*

Kaz: what the hell is going on?!?

Nina: jeez Kaz could you show some enthusiasm we threw a party for you, be a little grateful.

Kaz: a party?!?

Jesper: it's the thing where people get together and celebrate for something you know like fun-

Kaz: I know what a party is

Wylan: we just thought since it's your birthday we could throw you a surprise party

Kaz: My...what

Inej: It's your birthday. You know? The day you were born? When you came into this world? When the saints for some reason thought that the world needed you so you were born.

Kaz: I know what a birthday is. I ju-

Kaz: ...why

Nina: for food and also wanted to see how you would react to something fun....mostly food tho

Jesper: I mean it's a party I just needed an excuse to party

Wylan: I mean it would be nice to let loose a little and party after everything we went through we never threw a victory party and your birthday just happened to be around.

Inej: We all thought it would be fun to celebrate together. We also wanted to throw you a party to maybe get you to do something fun that doesn't involve crime and hopefully you let yourself relax a little.

Kaz: ...

Wylan: Kaz you good?

Jesper: OMG! He is frozen in shock

Nina: No he isn't. This is Kaz Brekker he isn't startled much less frozen by anything

Inej: *shakes Kaz* Kaz, say something!

Kaz: I am just confused

Wylan: what do you mean?

Jesper: You party like you have never partied before

Nina: I swear to God if we have to explain to you what a birthday party is

Kaz *composes himself*: no I just... Don't know what happens in a party much less a birthday party

Everyone: WHAT!?!

Wylan: have you NEVER had a birthday party?!!? Even I have had one when my father thought I could read

Kaz: I've had a birthday par-

Nina: ABSO-FUCKING-LUTELY NOT! You are SO having the party of your life

Jesper *grabs Kaz and pulls him towards the food*: HELL YEAH YOU ARE GOING TO PARTY AND YOU ARE GOING TO MEAN IT.

Inej just stares and smiles as they all take Kaz.

Nina: INEJ WHAT ARE YOU DOING THERE COME JOIN US!

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

Before the heist when only Inej knew about his birthday. Cause like I said if anyone knew his birthday it would be her. She remembered even though Kaz forgot (obviously). And since she knew Kaz would never want a birthday party or gift she decided to do something he would like.

The night of his birthday she crawls up to his rooms and sits on his window sill. Like always they sit in comfortable silence until.

Kaz *lifts his gaze and looks at her*: whatever you want to say just say it

Inej: well there is this one really expensive jewel being auctioned tomorrow...

Kaz: *raises an eyebrow for her to continue*

Inej: I mean what I am trying to say is pretty obvious. I just thought since you weren't exactly busy we could go grab the jewel, it would look good on your table.

Kaz: What value will it have since we won't be able to sell it.

Inej: jeez Kaz not everything is about the money I just thought it'll be a fun adrenaline rush for both of us since there haven't been any challenging jobs lately

Inej: you know what since you don't want to go I'll go by myself.

Kaz: wait-

Kaz: let me grab my cane.

After successful jewel heist.

They are out of breath and finally back in Kaz's room where Inej sits on the window sill and Kaz on his desk.

Inej: here *throws him a cupcake*

Kaz *confused*: what's this?

Inej: I grabbed it from a nearby stall. *takes a bite from her own cupcake*

Kaz: ...

Inej: just eat it it's not like I'll try to poison you.

Kaz: you wouldn't bother trying to kill me with poison since you know it won't work *looks at the cupcakes skeptically"

Inej: *motions him to eat*

Kaz: *rolls his eyes but takes a bite*

They both eat in nice comfortable silence

Inej: oh and Kaz?

Kaz: *looks at Inej* hmm

Inej: Happy Birthday *disappears out the window*

They don't mention it afterwards but it ends up becoming a tradition and now every year for Kaz's birthday they steal something expensive and secure just for the fun of it and then enjoy a cupcake in silence.

(The DeKappel being one of the stolen items from Kaz's birthday tradition.)

[soldateins]

As Sweet As Honey

Shane (Stardew Valley) x Reader Oneshot

Vibe/Warnings: Wholesome with a dash of spice because it's Shane and he's just a spicy guy imo. No warnings for this fic it's just cutesy.

Words: 1,013

Notes: This is a super cute request from @drnoblesix! I hope you like it! It ended up a teeny little bit saucy dialogue-wise near the end because I just feel Shane is like that, but it's mostly super wholesome and I enjoyed writing this prompt! Reader is neutral just because that's how it turned out so anyone can enjoy!

Summary/Prompt: A wholesome little oneshot where Shane tries some food that the farmer (Reader) has made.

For the fourth day in a row, Shane was an hour late from work as he arrived at your farm. You had just shut the chickens into their coop when you spotted him trudging up the steps, “Goodnight, ladies,” You said as you flicked the lock of the coop door before making your way to the house.

Grabbing a crate of empty jars on the way up the steps, you held it up with your knee as you opened the front door to the cabin and pushed it open all the way. Entering your home, you were greeted by your project of the week. A multitude of jars of many sizes were scattered over the kitchen table and sides and piled in crates on the floor, many of them filled to the brim with different kinds of honies and donning specific colours of fabric lid covers that you had assigned them.

The faint thrumming of the pipes in the bathroom notified you of Shane’s whereabouts as you placed the crate of jars onto the kitchen table with a clunk before continuing to jar the honey. After a few minutes of content humming and honey-pouring, Shane entered the kitchen. His hair was damp from washing his face and his eyes that usually matched the stems of the young spring flowers this time of year appeared almost drained of colour. He opened the fridge and pulled out a can of soda. 

“Hey, hey,” You stumbled over to him, hurriedly twisting open the purple-marked lid of a jar before Shane could open the can. He tilted his head, peering down at you with tired but curious eyes. “Try this, it’s really good, I promise.” You said eagerly, bringing the jar of honey up to his face for him to smell as you snatched a spoon from the side and dipped it into the gooey substance.

“Smells flowery.” Shane pursed his lips, watching you as you carefully twirled the golden honey around the spoon, making sure not to spill it anywhere as you brought it to his lips.

“Taste, c’mon, I’ve been working on this all week. I need my trusted taste-tester.”

After a brief pause and his eyes flickering from yours to the spoon, Shane took the small spoon into his mouth. His eyes wandered as he tasted the honey and then widened, finding their way to yours.

“Good?” You asked, raising your brows and letting go of the spoon.

“Mhm, mmm.” Shane nodded, grabbing the spoon and pulling it from his mouth. He swallowed and spoke, “That is amazing. What is it?”

“It’s honey!” You beamed, putting the jar onto the kitchen table and shutting it tight.

“Well, yeah. But what have you done to it?”

“It’s special flavoured honey. I’ve been experimenting with growing different flower species around my bee hives to flavour the honies; what you just ate was lavender honey!” Your heart fluttered at his enthusiasm and pride swelled within your chest. Shane placed his soda can on the kitchen side, shaking his head.

“You’re absolutely incredible.”

“So I’ve been told.” You leaned in towards him with a smile.

A beat passed and that familiar warmth of attraction surged up through your chest like a fountain as you scanned one another’s faces. That feeling you got when you first made him look at you with those sarcastic, defined features after saying something completely ridiculous. As though you could burst out laughing in his face and never stop.

Shane furrowed his brows as he looked at you, a small smirk twitching at the corners of his mouth.

“What?” You breathed.

“You’ve got honey on your face, honey,” He licked his thumb and rubbed it gently over your cheek, “And flowers in your hair.” He moved the same hand up into your hair, running it through a couple of times before softly resting it against the side of your head. His fingertips massaged your scalp and you exhaled slowly.

“I adore you, you know that?” His voice was gruff and sleepy.

“That I have been told, too.” You quipped and Shane rolled his eyes before pulling you close and pressing his lips to yours. The sweet, floral flavours of the honey still lingered on his lips and you sighed against his mouth. Shane’s stubble tickled your face as he slowly parted your lips with his tongue; you both hummed, pulling each other closer, your hands holding his collar and his arms cradling you warmly. You broke the kiss, looking up into his eyes,

“I adore you too. More than you could ever know.” 

Your hand snaked around to the back of Shane’s head and began playing with the hair at the nape of his neck. His lips twitched and he inhaled deeply before his eyes started darting around, taking in the messy kitchen around you both.

“Where the hell are we supposed to cook?” He chuckled and you felt it vibrate through your body from deep within his chest. You pursed your lips and hummed,

“How about… dining out tonight? The Stardrop?” You suggested with a tilt of your head. Shane smiled and you felt the muscles of his back relax against your hands.

“As long as it’s with you, I don’t care.”

A teasing smile danced upon your lips, “Are you sure? Because tomorrow your day is going to be full of honey-tasting.”

“Oh, I am more than okay with that.” He lowered his head, his drying hair falling over his forehead in gently waved clumps as his gaze caught yours, “Especially if the tasting ends with you.” Shane breathed and barked out a laugh at your steadily reddening face. You swallowed before exhaling, “Uh- Well, we- we better get ready and leave before Gus runs out of pepper poppers!” You shuddered as Shane dragged his fingers down your spine.

“Yeah, I guess dessert’ll have to wait until we get home.” He pressed another quick but heavy kiss to your lips before letting go and heading off to pull on his boots, leaving you breathless and hungry for more than just pepper poppers.

[bakugou-katsukis-wife]

Pairing: bakugou x fem!reader

Genre: fluff.

Summary: katsuki and you are out to stock up on groceries at the local mall. The stock up turned into a spending spree when you spotted a sephora from the corner of your eye. (This includes trying makeup on katsuki's hand.)

Warnings: swearing, Reader has she/Her pronouns, afab reader, Reader and katsuki are dating, established relationship, Reader likes makeup and she's not insecure about it, bakugou calls Reader names (dumbass, idiot, princess, woman ,sweets, etc.), not proof read , ... (spare me if I missed any-)

"Hurry up dumbass" katsuki chimed at you as you were still picking out the strawberry boxes, you had to get the one with the perfect strawberries in it! " 'sukiiii none of these look pretty though!".

He scoffed and pushed her aside as he examined the pile of boxes himself, "Here.." he mumbles as he picked two boxes from the left and put them in the cart "they are the best ones out of these" He mentions as he started to push the cart towards the self-checkout counter.

You skipped your way behind him. All excited and giddy as he picks up all those bags full of groceries in one hand and pays with his card in the other. "Can I help hold some of those?" You ask sweetly, he grunts in response. A simple no.

"The fuck do you think 'm here for princess?"

As You two exited the grocery shop, you spotted sephora right in front you to the right. You started to tug at his free arm, pulling his pinky with you towards the store "Hah? What now idiot? Don't ya wanna have dinner at home?"

"Just wanna check this out! Please kats???" Those puppy dog eyes worked on him like magic everytime. He sighs in defeat and follows you.

Once you're in the store, oblivious to all the eyes on you two, well mostly the blonde.. i mean who would've thought seeing dynamite, the no.2 hero in a.. sephora?..

you drag katsuki into all types or different aisles. You take a stop infront of rarebeauty, Wanting to try out the blush shades.. you take katsuki's free hand and start putting the blush samples on the back of his hand. His veins were so prominent-. No that's not what your here for. You have to check the shades.

"How's this one?" You ask him at this shade called Faith. He brings his hand closer to his face to check it out, "It's nice, it'll suit ya sweets" He looks at the other blush samples on the rack and picks up the shade Grateful. "How 'bout this one?" He asks as he put a small dot on the back of his hand himself to show you "hm... it's pretty! Will it suit my Skin tone?" She's skeptical

" 'course it will , I picked it. " He says all smug and proud. You giggle and stand on your tip toes to throw you arms around his neck, nuzzling his nose with yours "your the best katsu!" You peck his cheeks and come back down.

"Oh I almost forgot, I need to restock on my lip balm-" You rush to the dior section and pick up your true and trusted lip glow lip balm in your usual colour. You turn around to face katsuki "this is all I need!" He looks at the items in yours' and his hand, two blushes and a lip balm.. nah you should get more he thinks to himself. That's when he remembers you were out of your mascara two days ago, "dont'cha gotta get a mascara too? I thought yours was over?"

"Oh yeah! I almost forgot-" "But.. wanna go home, I don't need it right now so let's go?"

Katsuki just looks at you and nods, "ya go to the car, I'll pay and come" he hands you the car Keys as you agree and walk out of the store.

He walks to the rarebeauty section, he remmebers seeing your mascara on the vanity, that's the brand your mascara's from. He finds it pretty quickly and looks at the mascara, 'it's too small to last long' He thinks.

Either way he walks to the counter, pays for all the items and walks back to his car.

Once he's reached his car, he opens the trunk dropping all the grocery bags inside and shuts it

He walks over to the drivers seat and settles inside, handing you the spehora bag

As he starts the car, you peer into the bag noticing way more stuff then you had picked out.. 4 blushes, your lip balm, 2 of the mascara you use.

"Picked those 2 blushes cause they looked pretty, and it'll look nice on ya sweets"

"And I know you wanted the mascara."

I swear to God, this man never fails to make you fall for him all over again every single day.

You check the 2 new blushes, the shades being joy and love, he takes a turn into your neighbourhood.

"Suki?"

"Hm?"

"Yk I love you alot right? If I could, I'd literally squish you into oblivion. Istfg your too sweet."

"Hah?!, I'm not sweet you woman." He takes a pause before continuing,

"I love ya too" He chuckles pulling into the drive way, stopping the car.

"What do ya want for dinner sweets?"

"Hm.. how about your sticky rice and green Thai curry, please please please???"

He smiles and shakes his head, "Whatever ya want sweet girl"

You guys then enter your home and spend the night basking in the presence of the other.

This mans too good to be true.

After all, katsuki's the best of the best.

Comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!!

Masterlist

(Asks open!)

© BAKUGOU-KATSUKIS-WIFE 2024, DO NOT COPY OR REPOST ANYWHERE

[luveline]

Slightly different request but maybe we can see Eddie and roan having a close loving and cuddly moment together that mostly centres them? You’ve just characterised them so well and I love their daddy daughter dynamic

thank you for your request! eddie and roan ♥︎ fem!reader 1k

"Hey, pumk-min," Eddie says, "whatcha doing?" 

Roan looks up at her dad and squints. She's as Munson as they come, pale-skinned with dark curls, dark brows set over big brown eyes that look adorable when narrowed. 

"You're being 'spicious," she says. 

Eddie kneels down, knees in the soft rug Roan has claimed as her colouring den, and huffs. His pyjama pants are yours, purple with black and dainty flowers, and his t-shirt is a washed out charcoal grey that Roan's seen all her life. His hair is half dry, half damp from the shower, curls weighed down with water. He looks young, though Roan doesn't know that. To her, Eddie just looks like her dad. 

"I do have something to ask you," he admits.

She hums and makes an expression beyond her years. Yeah, I thought so. "What?" she asks. 

"I need help making dinner tonight cause Y/N's going out." 

Roan smiles at the mention of you, then frowns when she remembers you're leaving on a Saturday. "Where's she going? I want to go." 

"She's going to see her friends," he says. 

"I'm her friend," Roan whines. 

"You're my best friend!" you call as you rush down the stairs. 

You walk into the living room where they're sequestered, not so much as perturbed by the bombshell mess of pencils and crayons. 

"Like, in the whole world," you add, threading an earring through your ear before pressing on the back. "What do you think, do I look pretty?" 

Roan stands up and a collection of pencils fall from the fluffy skirt of her princess dress, shiny layers of turquoise blue that dance around her ankles as she rushes to climb up onto the sofa. She leans over the back and you receive her for a short hug.

She complains as you pull back. 

"I know, I know, I'm sorry," you say, smushing a kiss to her little forehead. "I won't be gone too long, princess, and that's a promise." 

Eddie stands too to see you out the door. Roan deflates against the couch cushions but doesn't cry, just says, "Bye, mom," in a sulky mumble.  

Eddie takes your hands. 

"Why does she always call me mom when I'm trying to leave?" you ask. Roan calls you mom sometimes, your name mostly, and sweetheart when she's feeling funny. 

"'Cause she knows it'll make you wanna stay," he says, which you already knew. "You look beautiful. Tell your other boyfriend I said hello."

You hug him and you smell like lots of things, perfume and hairspray and soap, arms behind his neck. Your jewellery sparkles almost as much as your smile. He squeezes your waist. 

"See you later. Love you." You poke your head around the door jam as you step back. "Love you Ro!" 

"I love you!" she shouts cheerfully. 

A quick kiss and you're gone. 

Eddie's glad to see, despite your departure, that Roan is in good spirits. She puts her hands under her face and holds herself up by the elbows, a poster child for pretty babies in her dress and her messy hair. 

"What's for dinner, anyway?" she asks curiously. 

"Anyway," Eddie repeats, laughing, "I was thinking we'd have what we always have when Y/N's not home."

Roan squeals and holds out her arms. "Cheeseburgers!" she shouts, climbing up into Eddie's chest as he wraps his arms around her. 

He'd been planning on carrying her to the kitchen. It's been a couple of hours since lunch and Eddie knows she must be hungry, but he gets a whiff of her jellybean shampoo and holds her closer. 

Roan melts into the affection. Her tiny nose jabs him in the chest, her silky soft curls tickling him all over as she cuddles in. He drags his hand up the breadth of her back. 

"It's not so bad, is it? Spending time with dad?" 

"It's the best." 

Eddie spins her around. He holds the small of her back and let's the momentum carry her head back, prompting a wave of delirious giggles. She enjoys it, and Eddie assumes that'll be the end of it, but when she gets her bearings back she wraps her warm hands behind his neck and stares up at him lovingly. It's the only word that can describe her little expression. 

"I love you," she says, beaming. 

"I love you, too. You're not just saying that because you want extra cheese, are you?" 

"I do want extra cheese," she says honestly. "But I will still love you if you don't give me any. Maybe." 

He hikes her up higher so they're face to face. For Eddie, it's like looking into a cuter, younger mirror. She's so funny and quirky and lovely, he gets a stab of emotion, heat behind his eyes. 

"I love you," he says, kissing her cheek. "Love you so much," —he kisses her other cheek— "you can have every slice of cheese in the house." He kisses her cheek again, too many times. 

When he pulls away, she's pink in the face. 

"As long as you don't–" 

"Don't tell mom, I know." 

They gather their resources and make the best burgers ever. Eddie melts the promised cheese on the griddle in the patty grease and Roan eats what won't fit on her burger with a spoon. She's crashing hard from a food coma when you finally get home, but she still makes a point to tell you how much cheese Eddie gave her. 

"Like, the whole packets," she brags sleepily, face half hidden in Eddie's chest. 

You press wine cooler kisses against their foreheads. "Yeah? Leave any for me?" 

"Oh…" Roan blinks at you with wide eyes. "Sorry." 

"In the microwave," Eddie mouths. 

You grin and dance away, clearly tipsy and humming. When you find the burger he'd made you, you laugh. "Aw, yis. My boyfriend's the best," he hears your say, awed. 

"Don't forget that ring on your finger!" he calls. "God knows my savings account won't." 

"My fiance is the best," you amend to yourself. 

Roan snuggles into Eddie's chest. Eddie pets her hair. 

"Love you, pumk-min," he says. 

Roan snores.

[taesnix]

BACK from the void to present to you: Nico, who wears the most absolutely ridiculous socks ever because no one can see them.

Gods, he has so many.

Most of them are thick and warm for maximum comfort, and they go up to just under his knees with the stupidest little things and patterns on them. For summer, he has an equally impressive collection of crew socks that are still thick enough to not get easily worn out, but don't make him sweat buckets trudging under the sun.

Nico knows that he'll forever be a collector at heart but it's not like he wanted to choose socks of all things as his next prized possessions. He didn't wake up one day and decide "man, these things are pretty great, let's go amass an army's worth of SOCKS!" It just happened. He had no control over that. They just feel nice, okay. And perhaps the colour combos and sheer variety of everything makes him happy.

Is it kind of embarrassing? Yeah. Would he cease to exist if anyone found out? Holy shit, maybe. But it's not like anyone has been able to tell underneath his daily go-to of heavy jeans and combat boots, so he's been in the clear so far.

Until he gets distracted for a split second while sparring with Percy and riptide cuts a huge slash across his leg.

Nico's fast, so he's able to jump back just enough so that the sword barely catches any flesh, but his jeans unfortunately don't come out unscathed.

"Keep your head in the game, Neeks!" Percy teases with a grin. He's got an annoying glint in his eye to match and Nico just knows he's about to say something worse. "No matter who walks in."

And—shit. Nico feels his face flush scarlet despite him screaming internally at his body to not react. He pointedly does not look at the new blob of neon scrubs sitting next to Kayla in the stands. "Shut up, Jackson. Like you're any better when Annabeth so much as blinks at you."

Percy shrugs. "Hey man, at least I acknowledge it."

And—fine, he does. Nico will give him that. Jackson was peak levels of embarrassing about his girlfriend on a good day.

"I think you should go get that patched up," Percy smirks. He then makes a big show of squinting at the stands, pulling a similar face that Jason makes trying to read highway signs without his glasses. Basically, he looks really fucking stupid. "Impeccable timing, too! Whaddya know? There seems to be a free medic right there."

One day, Nico will kill him. It'll fix almost all of his problems, and gods know he'll always have too many at any given point in time. But he'll do it. Maybe Annabeth will even take pity and give him a pass.

Before Nico can even open his mouth and retort with something snarky, Percy raises his hands and hollers. "Hey, Will! The King here is in need of some dire medical attention!"

"No, I'm not!" Nico shouts when Will's eyes grow wider. "Nothing happened, I'm fine."

Percy snorts and claps him on the shoulder. "As if that's worked before. Good luck, little man. Same time tomorrow?"

And he doesn't wait for a response, just gives a one-handed salute and begins to make his way to the stands. Percy says something to Will as they pass by each other and Will's brows furrow.

One day.

"What happened?" Will asks as he jogs over. His blond curls rise and fall with every step and if you zeroed in on only them, the loose coils look like they're in zero gravity. Bouncing with an impossible grace as they get closer and closer.

Not that Nico was looking. Or that he'd even noticed at all. Man, is it getting hotter here? He should definitely drink some water soon.

"Nico?" Will waves a slow hand in front of his face. "You alright? Percy said his sword mostly caught your jeans, but you never know."

"Huh?" Nico chokes. Right, this is the dire medical attention part.

Will gives him a wobbly smile, like he's trying not to laugh but failing miserably. "Okaaay then. Can I check your leg?"

"Um, sure."

He's still so out of it that he doesn't hear his subconscious screaming at him why Will kneeling down to lift the denim is a terrible, horrible idea.

Nico feels the lithe fingers carefully cut down the fabric with scissors that have seemingly appeared from nowhere. He feels them gently peel back his jeans with a confident precision, minimizing the disturbance to the wound. He hears the faintest of gasps and he feels the other boy go completely still.

He tilts his head down to see what the issue is—surely Percy hadn't slashed him that bad—and then, like a statue, he freezes in place too.

In the most obnoxious shade of yellow possible, rows of mischievous rubber ducks beam back at both of them. He says mischievous because they've got annoying smirks and eyebrows strong enough to rival the Stoll brothers on the first of April. Which is quite a concerning amount. The smallest flecks of red from his cut take the whole "sinister menaces" thing to an unholy level.

Neither of them breathe for the next 30 seconds. Or maybe it's 30 years. Hell, if Nico knows now, his damn heart stopped working properly ages ago.

Then, either his saving grace or the final nail in his coffin, Will sucks in another shaky mouthful of air and clears his throat.

"You know," he starts, scarily neutral. Not a single waver in his voice. "I'm beginning to think Kayla's got a point."

Kayla talks a lot, running through an average 5 conversation topics in a record of 7 minutes with Nico himself, so that narrows it down by exactly nothing. "Uh, about what?"

Will doesn't reply, simply carrying on with cleaning and dressing his injury like he hadn't said anything. It drives Nico crazy, but he knows Will's priorities, so he holds his tongue. Will had drilled them into Nico's brain during his first infirmary stay; treat first, talk second.

So he waits. He lets Will dab the tiniest bit of nectar across the cut and wipe away blood. After a minute or two, his leg is wrapped neatly with a bandage, and suddenly, there's no more treating to be done.

"We're matching," Will finally says.

Nico blinks. Because—what.

"I mean, it's a slightly different shade, but eh, close enough to count."

Nico breaks out of his stupor when Will traces one of the ducks with his nail. Soft but accurate, light but impossible to ignore, like everything else he does.

"Yellow?" Nico whispers. He can't seem to muster up his voice to be louder than that.

Will looks up at him with a particular glint in his eye, and Nico's heart stops a second time.

"Mhm," he grins, dusting his knees as he stands up. He winks and it has no right to kickstart the thumping in Nico's chest. "Same wavelength."

"You're ridiculous," Nico lightly shoves at Will's shoulder and prays that his face isn't burning red.

Will just laughs and catches his hand, holding it in place. "Sure, but I'm also right."

"Are not."

"Are too."

"Are n—"

"Okay," Will interrupts, "I hate to break it to you, Neeks, but we're both wearing obnoxious shades of yellow. You've got the added bonus of sly rubber duckies, and my scrubs glow in the dark. Ergo, we're both ridiculous and both on the same wavelength."

Gods, who the hell says, "ergo". Why is Nico so enamoured with such an idiot.

"And how, exactly, does Kayla have a point here?" Nico sighs, ignoring that his hand is still on Will's shoulder and that Will is still holding it there. He'll take his silent wins as they come.

Now, Will's cheeks become a rosy red. It makes Nico want to trace a finger around his freckles to check if his skin has become warmer, too.

"Well..." He trails off. He glances down to Nico's leg again, where some of the damn ducks are peeking out behind his jeans.

With a grounding deep breath, Will shuts his eyes for a moment. When they open, he meets Nico's gaze head on, calm yet confident once more.

He's beautiful like this, like he always is.

Against his own will, Nico smiles. Will shines underneath the sun and his stupid blond curls are golden.

"She said we're soulmates. And I think she's right about that."

And Nico thinks she's right about that, too.

[bruisedboys]

𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗧𝗟𝗘 𝗪𝗢𝗠𝗘𝗡 — james potter w the prompt “you are half my soul.“ where they are just cuddling on the couch

hehe old 3k ask hi!! I went with a different scenario than you asked for I’m sorry </3 but this one just came to me so I had to write it

summary: james tells you he loves you in a diner parking lot

fem!reader 0.6k words

James walks two steps behind you, partly because he’s so dizzy on his feet he can hardly keep up with you. But also because your skirt is short and he’s worried someone’s gonna see something they shouldn’t if he doesn’t stand directly behind you.

He watches you as you practically skip through the parking lot. You’re excited about something, he can barely remember what. The neon lights from the diner wash over the side of your face and he remembers. You’re getting milkshakes. Your favourite.

“James, you’re straggling,” you say, throwing him a dazzling smile over your shoulder. The lights from the diner ahead paint your skin an array of colours.

James almost trips. Not for the first time tonight. “Sorry,” he says pathetically.

“No, it’s okay,” you say sweetly. You shrug and hold out your hand to him. “Come on.”

James takes your hand because he can’t think of anything else he’d rather do right now. Except maybe kiss you. This is a good compromise. Your hand is warm and soft and your rings press into his fingers.

You drag him the rest of the way to the diner and you make it to the door before James decides he just has to say something to you. Something romantic, something spectacular, because he’s just so in love with you he could die.

“Y/N,” he says suddenly, and your name feels familiar as home in his mouth.

You stop where you’re about to pull the door open. Twist to look up at him, an angel in the fluorescent lights.

“Yeah?” You ask, a little perplexed but mostly just freaking adorable.

“I— um. You know I love you, right?”

You giggle, probably because he sounds like a lovesick idiot. “Yeah, James,” you say, and you’re grinning like mad suddenly. You squeeze his hand. “Obviously.”

“Yeah, but— but.” James struggles to find the words. He wishes he could tell you just how much he feels for you. In his head, it all makes sense, but when he tries to say the words, he’s not sure they make sense at all. He tries again. “You’re like, half my soul, Y/N. You know?”

You blink up at him. Stunned. Looking a bit lovesick yourself. “Half your soul?” You say quietly.

“Y-yeah. Or all of it, I don’t know.” James scrubs his face with his free hand. He sounds pathetic, he knows. He’d be embarrassed if you weren’t looking at him like that. Like he means as much to you and you do to him. “I just— I love you. A lot,” he finishes lamely.

“James,” you say. You sound equally lovesick, if not more. James thinks you’ve forgotten all about milkshakes because you reach up to hold his face in your free hand, your fingers greedy where they push over his skin. You get up on your toes and speak into the tiny space between him and you. “I love you a lot too.”

James thinks he might pass out you’re so close. He’s struck, not for the first time, by how pretty you are. Up close you’re even prettier than usual. He could count your eyelashes if he wanted to.

“You’re my whole soul,” you say quietly, and you’re beaming. “And more.”

James thinks he might cry. Or scream. Something along those lines. He lets go of your hand in favour of your face, his palms hot on your warm face.

“Stop trying to one up me,” he says, glaring.

You giggle and open your mouth to argue back. James kisses you before you can. Right in front of the diner full of people.

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