#pardon the late reply as well since i was at school

[snezhnayan-nights]

it’s impossible to have a reasonable conversation with people about why ramcoa is a dangerous term to use that harms communities targeted by the satanic panic and more current forms of those conspiracies like qanon pizzagate stuff because they will never listen and will throw a fit every time they’re asked to please please stop spreading this stuff. we CAN’T have a conversation because they refuse to take any information that remotely challenges their right to keep their special word. I understand they like using it and want to keep it for various reasons but you can’t always have everything that makes you feel good in the world. any attempt to have this conversation is shouted down as policing survivors - as if survivor status means a person can never be wrong or be held accountable for the harm they’re doing.

if a term is created out of bigotry and conspiracy then it is unsalvageable. this term was created out of bigotry and conspiracy. it might feel scary and unfair to lose it but that’s one of the awful parts about trauma. sometimes it’s unfair. sometimes there just ISNT a word that is both vague enough and specific enough for these peoples very exacting standards as they consistently reject every alternative suggested to them. they will accept nothing but continuing to propagate this conspiracy term.

they say it’s unrelated to the satanic panic. when they’re shown proof they say well okay it doesn’t matter im reclaiming it (as if that’s something they get to reclaim). it doesn’t matter, I WANT to use it. it doesn’t matter, that’s not real antisemitism anyway are you trying to say jews are satanists? sounds like YOURE the antisemetic one. it doesn’t matter, this word is important to me. they say that bigoted conspiracy theorists creating it has no bearing on its meaning and move the goalposts every time we try to show what we’re saying. no evidence is ever enough.

what conversation are we - jews in plural communities and survivor communities - supposed to have here? we can’t. we get accused of policing language because bigotry and dangerous conspiracies are meaningless next to people online getting to feel validated in one very highly specific way. we get told we’re bullying survivors because we get upset when we’re repeatedly ignored and told to shut up and stop trying to get people to care about our historic and continuing persecution (the connection between satanic panic and blood libel is WELL documented). we get told there was no antisemitism in the satanic panic in the first place. are we SURE we actually experience anything bad? aren’t we just big bad liars?

please. please tell me what we can do to get people to listen to us. because nothing works. fucking of course we’re a little upset and a little less than polite at this point. people are outright saying they don’t care that they’re parroting the vocabulary of people who want us eradicated because it’s important to them. because we don’t matter. we will never be safe in survivor communities and when we’re upset about that and angry that no one will listen we get told, again, that we are the problem.

oh boy. i'm not sure how to start this response. i'll preface this with the fact that i am simply a teen who is watching all of this happen and wanted to say something, since all the fighting while i'm trying to navigate through system tags is getting to me.

the "conversation" part, isn't just directed at one party. i meant it to everyone, as it just looks like everyone is making points and slamming at each other like unstoppable force vs immovable object. i'm also referring to the people who keep spamming anons to people who either say "ramcoa is antisemitic!" and "people can still use ramcoa!". more so aggressive anons.

i can't do much. i don't know much. a lot of us can't do much and none of us can automatically change each other's minds. i'm sorry that i don't know how to help you. i understand where your anger is coming from. i'm sorry that this is hurting you and you don't feel heard.

[simslegacy5083]

NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 92: A Captainly Conversation

While Luigi and Noemi were telling her family about their pregnancy, his co-captain’s gestation ended with the delivery of a healthy baby boy. 

The two had long ago arranged for Luigi to pick up the slack as sole team leader while his friend was recovering from surgery. Even though the extra work and his own baby prep stole the very last dregs of his free time, he jumped wholeheartedly into running the team. 

Luigi was feeling quite proud of his preparations, wishing that Beau was there to see how well his first solo meeting was going, when a text arrived. He followed the instructions for adding his buddy's laptop to the LAN remotely and soon his co-captain was spectating matches over voice chat.

It was clear Beau wasn’t just “phoning it in” either, as he popped in and out of games and private chats, mentoring their newest players all night.

“He certainly isn’t acting like someone still on painkillers” Luigi thought, right before another message popped up, this time asking for “the honor of an audience with His Highness tonight in my chambers (Post Birth Recovery Ward, Suite 3).” Sighing, Luigi let Noemi know he’d be home late.

Thanking his past self for the Seldom Sleepy trait that made that night’s visit bearable and the following day less of a concern, Luigi found Room 3 at last. He was surprised to see Beau still hard at play, rapidly pounding the life out of the opposing team of some random internet matchup.

“Your pardon, your grace, I’ll be with you as soon as these guys realize they’re completely outmatched and surrender.”

Sure enough, the game soon wrapped up, and Beau hit the restroom before gingerly lowering himself to join his friend on the small visitor couch.

Luigi couldn’t keep his curiosity in check. “Aren’t you supposed to be taking it easy? I thought they just got done gutting you like a fish!?”

“Eh, the surgery went off without a hitch, and honestly, the recovery isn’t nearly as painful as the BOREDOM! I’m stuck in this stupid room, and my wife is too busy between her job, her candle making, and taking care of baby Bruce to come visit. I’m dying in here!”, his friend whined.

Luigi suppressed a surge of annoyance. They could easily have caught up virtually, but clearly Beau was starved for company. Besides, now that he was here, with a new father eager to talk, maybe he could gain some insight into his own concerns about becoming a dad.

“Actually, since we’ve got some time to chat, I did have something I wanted your advice on.” Beau was by no means the first sim that came to Luigi’s mind as someone to confide in or dispense wisdom, but he did just get direct experience in juggling the demands of school, e-sports, and pregnancy. 

“Noemi and I haven’t told many folks other than our families yet, but…” he was interrupted by a sudden explosion of laughter as his friend exclaimed

“Oh my stars! You… I mean Noemi’s pregnant, isn’t she? His highness is going to have a little heir to the throne running around soon, huh?"

At Luigi’s confirming nod, Beau told him in a more serious tone “Well congratulations to you both, then. Adding a pregnancy on top of everything else was challenging, but nothing worth doing is ever easy. One foot in front of the other, over and over, is the only way to get to the finish line.”

He went on “Thanks for stepping up with all the prep work for tonight’s practice by the way. I’ll do the same for you when your little one comes.”

Luigi replied, “We’ll all be graduated before my baby arrives, but that’s the thing. I know how to prep for a game, for a class, for a meeting, but I feel lost when it comes to prepping for a child. I’m going from being a pro to being a complete noob, and I hate it. I don’t want to be a failure as a dad.”

“Well, I’ve only gotten to hold Bruce for a few hours so far, but you know he’s not really my first kid. When I married Brianne, I became a father to her daughter Bailey, much to her embarrassment. Parenting a teen isn’t easy, but I have a good partner, and got great advice.”

He looked firmly at Luigi and continued: “The number one thing you need to remember is that it isn’t about YOU. The only victory condition in parenting is when THEY win, and the best you can do is to help them along and don’t let your pride make it harder on them.”

They chatted a bit longer before Luigi eventually took his leave, thanking Beau for his advice and wishing him a speedy recovery. 

As he headed towards the exit, he reflected on what Beau had said. It wasn't all about him anymore, and Luigi realized why hearing that had hit a nerve. Although he'd always been happiest when he was in a relationship, managing to put his significant others first or, to be honest, even reliably near the top of his priority list, had always been a struggle. Someone brand new to the world would need a lot more from him! 

Could he shift his focus enough to provide his son or daughter with the care and attention they deserved and required? He honestly wasn't sure, but he knew that whether he liked it or not the time was fast approaching when he would have to give it his best shot.

View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here

[youngbounty]

Affectionate Touches

EDIT: I forgot to mention that this is for AsoBaro Week, tag @asobaroweek and include a read only dash line so this isn’t taking up the entire page. Today’s theme is Glass, Home and Significant Dates. The themes I follow are in the tags. Enjoy!

Ever since starting this relationship, Barok had begun learning how inexperienced he and Kazuma were romantically. Neither of them had ever thought about romance throughout their lives. Both of them had crushes growing up, but nothing came of them. Their relationship was the first one for either of them that went beyond the puppy love of grade school crushes. Most would believe that Barok would be the least affectionate of the two. However, it was the opposite. Barok was the one who enjoyed any and every physical affection, such as hugs, kisses, holding hands, and other displays of affection. Kazuma, on the other hand, felt discomforted by these things. Kazuma loved Barok, but he didn't feel comfortable with hugs or certain types of touch. Fortunately, Barok was sensitive to Kazuma's feelings and would always ask before hugging or touching him in a way that might make him uncomfortable. Kazuma was curled up on the couch, a book in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. The gas lamp created a warm glow on Kazuma's face. Barok couldn't help but admire Kazuma's beauty and grace. Suddenly, he felt the urge to hold Kazuma and kiss him. But as he took a step forward, he hesitated and cleared his throat. Kazuma turned to him, a questioning look in his eyes. "Excuse me," Barok said, avoiding eye contact. "I was wondering, if it's not too much trouble, could I...er...?" Kazuma raised an eyebrow. "Sure, go ahead. But, make it quick." Barok tentatively wrapped his arms around Kazuma's shoulders, savoring the warmth of his lover's close proximity. Kazuma patted his arm with a look of mild discomfort, but allowed the embrace to continue. After a moment, Barok planted a quick kiss on Kazuma's cheek and released him. Kazuma returned to his book, seemingly unperturbed by the gesture. Barok knew that physical affection wasn't Kazuma's forte, but he took heart in the fact that they were still making progress. In their relationship, they didn't need grand displays of love – they valued quiet moments of understanding and respect more than grand displays of affection. One day, Barok relished the opportunity to take Kazuma out to dinner. Barok toyed with the idea of a romantic picnic for just the two of them. With excitement bubbling up within him, he presented the idea to Kazuma that morning. “A picnic?” Kazuma asked once he was offered. “Indeed, I thought it would do us good to venture outdoors and enjoy some quality time together,” Barok replied. “Hm... what sort of nibbles shall we bring then?” “What sort of nibbles do you fancy?” “Well, most picnic-goers tend to opt for sandwiches. We could rustle up a few of those... also some savory bites, perhaps?” 

“Splendid idea. I shall also prepare some of your preferred tea,” Barok added with a small smile. “It seems you already have a plan in mind,” Kazuma teased, flashing a flirtatious look. “Perhaps just a rough outline. My true aim is to charm you with my company.” “I concur. I have been yearning for your company lately,” Kazuma admitted, lightly clasping Barok's index finger. It was his subtle way of showing affection. “Likewise. I have felt your absence quite keenly,” Barok confessed, moving to embrace Kazuma before withdrawing awkwardly. “I beg your pardon.” “No need to apologize,” Kazuma reassured him, smiling before proceeding to get ready for their date. Barok felt disheartened by how uncomfortable Kazuma was with physical affection. He knew that expressing love was different for Kazuma, but he yearned to connect with him through touch. Unfortunately, he struggled to find gestures of affection that didn't make Kazuma uneasy. Kissing seemed to be one form of intimacy that Kazuma was at ease with while hugging and holding hands were off-limits. Despite his sadness, Barok remained patient and understanding, hoping that someday Kazuma would feel more comfortable expressing his love in physical ways. Perhaps he was being too demanding. After all, he loved Kazuma for who he was, not just for physical affection. Barok reminded himself that he didn't need a fairytale romance; he just wanted to be around Kazuma and spend time with him. With a deep breath, he headed to the kitchen to make some tea and calm his thoughts. The prospect of a picnic with Kazuma lifted his spirits, and he looked forward to enjoying the day with his beloved. After wrapping up his duties at the Prosecutor's Office, Barok joined Kazuma to prepare for their picnic lunch. Kazuma brewed the tea while Barok made the sandwiches, mindful of avoiding any poultry after the chicken fiasco on their first date. Even now, Barok couldn't resist chuckling at the memory of Kazuma dumping all the chicken into the river, convinced it was poison. It was a humorous reminder of the quirks that made Kazuma so endearing to him, and Barok couldn't help but smile at the memory, though he knew he should have been clearer about the menu. The aroma of Kazuma's tea reached Barok's nose, filling him with anticipation. Kazuma always knew Barok's favorite blend. Looking over at Kazuma, Barok couldn't help but admire his serious expression. Whenever Kazuma worked on something he was passionate about, he threw himself into it with boundless dedication. It was yet another quality that drew Barok to him, among many others. Kazuma glanced back at Barok and let out a soft hum of approval at the sight of the sandwiches he'd made. A warm smile graced Kazuma's lips, then suddenly Barok's cheeks pinkened with self-consciousness. Kazuma chuckled at this reaction, then approached Barok and reached out a hand. Somewhat unsure, Barok accepted Kazuma's hand, feeling the press of a few fingers against his palm. It was an unusual gesture, but somehow endearing. Kazuma let out a contented sigh and smiled at him, and Barok couldn't help but feel his heart skip a beat. “You make quite good sandwiches,” Kazuma said, catching Barok off guard. “Y-Yes... I suppose I do,” Barok replied somewhat lamely. He wasn't sure what else to say. “I'll pop them in the baskets. Wouldn't do to lug everything about on your own.” “I don't mind, really. We haven't got much. Thanks all the same.” “I'm keen on carrying a bit, all the same. You're very much welcome,” Kazuma replied sweetly, then gently withdrew his hand from Barok's. There was something about Kazuma's gestures, the way he offered compliments and help in such a sincere and meaningful way. Barok had grown accustomed to these small acts of kindness, but they still left a lasting impression on him. He couldn't help but wonder about the significance of Kazuma's finger-grasping. Was it a cultural custom he wasn't familiar with? After packing up the food and drinks, they made their way to the park, careful to choose a secluded and quiet spot. Kazuma was quick to grab the basket with the hot tea kettle and step aside to give Barok room to retrieve the other basket. Barok soon realized that Kazuma's back was turned towards the road, protecting him from any dirt or dust kicked up by passing carriages. It was an incredibly thoughtful gesture, one that touched Barok deeply. As they settled down to enjoy their picnic, Barok couldn't help but feel grateful for Kazuma's unwavering kindness and consideration. He knew he was lucky to have someone like him in his life. “Shall we head off?” Barok asked, his voice betraying a hint of fluster. “Yes,” Kazuma replied, deferring to Barok to lead the way. Barok took Kazuma to a quiet spot among the trees. They could only hear the rustling of leaves and whisper of grass. Kazuma spread out a blanket and carefully extracted the tea from the basket, then removed his coat and boots to avoid soiling it. Barok followed suit, eager to make this a pleasant experience. As he unpacked the sandwiches and fruit, he offered Kazuma an apple. The smile that blossomed across Kazuma's face made Barok's heart swell with warmth. "Cheers," Kazuma replied before taking a bite from the apple. "I suppose you don't go on outings like this very often?" "No, I don't really get out much since I've got so few friends and loved ones," Barok poured a cup of piping hot tea for the pair of them. "I reckon Iris would be chuffed to go on a picnic with you." "Ah, perhaps," Barok replied, with a hint of a smile. "Her mother and Klint used to go on outings like these." "Sounds like all of you had a jolly good time." "Aye, we did. I used to love spending time with Klint. At the time, it was just the two of us as I wanted to live near where I was studying to become a Prosecutor." "I can't say I've ever met your folks," Kazuma said. Despite being together for nearly a year, Barok had never mentioned or invited him to meet his parents. "My father and I haven't been on good terms since Klint's death, and my mother passed away three years later," Barok's tone became saddened. "Oh, I'm terribly sorry to hear that. I had no idea." "It's a shame really. Klint's death affected the whole van Zieks family. My old man tried to curse the Asogi Clan, which I didn't agree with, and we haven't spoken since," Barok explained to Kazuma, whose eyes widened before staring at the grass with a look of contemplation. Kazuma finally spoke, "I received a letter after Father's supposed death about the Professor and... what my father did." "That was probably from my father. I'm so sorry," Barok replied, saddened. "It's alright. I did have my suspicions, but I'm glad it wasn't from you." Barok was surprised. Did Kazuma think he was the one who wrote the letter? It made sense, but... "When I suspected your lineage whilst were under my care, I wished to protect your name from being dragged

along with the Professor. Genshin told me he had a son and a student back home, and I didn't want them to suffer for his sins. If push came to shove, I'd rather it be me," Barok revealed before closing his eyes. "And what about Iris?" "I'm not sure. If she never finds out, then at least she won't be dragged into it. But secrets have a way of coming to light," Barok sighed, looking up at the sky. "At least I know my father won't pen such a letter concerning his granddaughter. But, then again, I am dubious he will ever come to know.” “I suppose if he chooses to remain ignorant. I think we're all guilty of it.” "Perhaps," Barok replied, smiling bitterly as he turned his face towards Kazuma. He longed to cup his lover's face but hesitated. "May I?" His hand hovered tentatively over Kazuma's cheek before finally making contact, their lips touching in a chaste kiss. Afterward, they stared at each other momentarily before Kazuma averted his gaze and focused on his tea. He did not seem uncomfortable, but Barok couldn't help but wonder, "Was that too much?" “N-No... it's fine,” Kazuma replied, stuttering. Barok paused momentarily. He was curious and had to ask, "Why do you not find comfort in physical affection?" "It's not that I don't, I..." Kazuma's face flushed red as he spoke. "I suppose it's different where I come from. In Japan, we don't hug or shake hands. We bow. We don't say 'I love you' to our family or lovers. It's not even required to love one's spouse like it is here. We express our love through action more than words. Most of the time, our words require reading the atmosphere instead of saying it bluntly. We consider bluntness rude." "So, it's simply a cultural difference?" Barok inquired, intrigued with the revelation. He had never pondered on it before. "You never hug or hold hands to express love towards another?" "Correct. We get plenty of it when we're kids, so we consider hand-holding something you only do with a child. Hugging can be considered invasive since no one would ever get that close with anyone unless they were... erm... married." "I see," Barok smiled a little. "And what about the fingers?" "Hm?" "You tend to grasp or hold onto my fingers or pinky." "O-Oh... that's..." Kazuma's cheek became dusted pink. "I suppose that's how we hold hands." Barok's cheeks flushed as he extended his fingers towards Kazuma's, now comprehending their significance. He grasped Kazuma's fingertips and gently kissed them, eliciting a flustered reaction from Kazuma. "I wish to stand by your side through all my days," Kazuma breathed. "I feel the same. May I ask, without making you feel uncomfortable, may I hold and touch you?" Barok requested. Kazuma smiled slightly and answered, "In due time. If you grant me some time, I will fulfill your request." "As you wish," Barok replied. Keeping in mind that Kazuma is from a culture where physical displays of affection are uncommon, it will take time for him to become comfortable with Barok's hugs and touches. However, like a blooming flower or growing tree, when he does, it will be a beautiful and powerful thing. Spending time together and cherishing every moment will lead them to that point. Patience and understanding are crucial in this situation. Barok must understand that Kazuma's cultural background will impact his comfort level with physical affection, and give him the necessary time and space. At the same time, Kazuma must also be patient with Barok as he learns to navigate this cultural difference. Expressing love through actions and reading nonverbal cues may not be common in Britain, but Barok is learning and growing in his relationship with Kazuma.

[beestalesofarcadia]

Hello beestrollhunterplace! Might I request either Blinky or Dictatious with a human librarian s/o? Maybe she had first joined the group when the kids asked for a ton of troll books, she notices all of their scars and bruises, she investigates and discovers their secret. She's not at ALL happy that a minor was picked to be the Trollhunter but she tutors the kids to help them in school.

This is literally so late I apologize 😭 

★・・・★⊱••✩••⊰•★・・・・★

Blinky with a human librarian s/o

Jim is super obvious when he’s trying to hide a secret, especially the first few weeks he becomes the Trollhunter. Toby doesn’t help either. Their time at the library would become more frequent than usual, with him visiting every so often to pick up books from the fantasy section. “Didn’t take you as an avid reader, Mr. Lake.” You remark one day, to which Jim sheepishly replies with, “Well Mrs. (l/n), I’m just… trying to find myself through uh… reading!” You glance at Toby, who normally picked out comic books or mangas, with a 1000-page textbook about ancient folklore. With the bruises littered throughout their body and the sudden change in personality, you made it your duty as a librarian to make sure these kids were alright.

One night, you decided to stay at the library and catch up on work. A loud thud had distracted you from your paperwork, and curiously, you couldn’t help but walk over to investigate. “Keep it down, guys-!” A voice hissed, sounding strangely like Jim. “Psh, relax man, it’s not like anyone else is in here.” You could recognize that voice anywhere: Tobias! Considering that they broke into the museum a few nights before, it wasn’t really far-fetched that they’d do the same here. Geek duo, you thought to yourself as you shook your head. With a sigh and roll of eyes, you popped out from behind the bookshelf, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Listen, kids, couldn’t you break in somewhere else…” Your voice trailed off as you saw a large, brute of a stone, and a pair of six-eyes staring right at you.

You thought it was bullies at first. You thought it was adults at first. Hell, you even thought that it was some mafia that was threatening these kids. Not once did you consider the possibility of it being trolls or any other magical creature that existed. Of course, you freak out, with your first initial reaction to grab a book and throw it at the larger troll. With ease, he opened his mouth and swallowed it. He smiled and rubbed his stomach, humming “tasty.” You pulled Toby and Jim back, shielding them. “BACK AWAY- YOU BEASTS-!” “Pardon me madam, but we are trolls!” Despite his best efforts to dwindle the situation, it was futile. It took Jim and Toby having to stand in front of you to calm you down. They assure you that they would explain the situation, but you just needed to take a seat. Shakily, you agree to do so.

After a recap of the events of those past few weeks, your fear had shifted into anger. Mainly directed at Blinky- as you were under the impression that he chose Jim to become Trollhunter. “He’s a kid! He has school, he has finals, he has girls to worry about-!” “I understand your frustrations about Master Jim’s current predicament but realize that is the amulet’s will. It is his destiny. That, we cannot change.” Unless he died, you soon realized.

The weeks that followed soon became routine for you. You’d assist the kids, going as far as to help them even during school hours. Anything that they needed you’d get for them. Access to the classrooms after hours? You got it. Security camera footage of Strickler? That’s pushing it, but yeah. Your car keys? … There’s a line that needs to be drawn somewhere.

Outside of that, you become a frequent visitor to Trollmarket. Despite the other trolls’ blatant dislike of another human gracing their grounds, Blinky and Arrrgh are quick to be at your side. Vendel tolerates you since you seem sensible enough. But the minute you cause any ruckus around Trollmarket, you are out. Blinky assures him that it would never get to that point, to which you quickly agree. “I won’t tell a soul or cause any trouble,” You bow out of respect before continuing. “Cross my heart and hope to die.” “… A strange proclamation, but admirable effort nevertheless.” Now you gotta explain what idioms are.

Your intelligence is what initially draws Blinky. Whether it be from your wide range of vocabulary (as he’s seen whenever you’ve explained words that he couldn’t understand), or even the suggestions you’ve thrown into plans. Then it becomes your courage and selfishness, which you had demonstrated many times. From defending the kids to even fighting alongside them at the Killahead bridge. The determination and fierceness he saw in your eyes as you freed him from his bindings. No longer were you the little, fearful librarian he had met. You were now, as Tobias would put it, the “kick-a$$” librarian.

Post Killahead bridge is where you both get closer. Alone time becomes more frequent, as Arrrgh still remains Toby’s roommate/Wingman. You keep Blinky company, and his mood lively with the quick quips you often exchange with him. You tell him of the books you’ve read recently, even giving him a few copies to read himself. Although he’s more interested in historical fiction (“As a witness, I can tell you this is quite inaccurate-”), he doesn’t mind indulging in a few other genres here and there. Romance is a big guilty pleasure, followed by the occasional fantasy books (he thinks their interpretations are interesting). You two often find yourselves sitting together, reading and talking amongst yourselves. You would lay against him, your soft skin contrasting his own stone texture. It would always catch him off-guard, but that soft smile that grew along his face would always follow. Idle moments like those were what caused Blinky to realize his feelings for you.

Courting was difficult- mainly because Blinky can get in over his head. While he was going to go for the Troll customs, he then decided to go for the humans. But upon researching it, he found it so strange. Poisoning yourself, then actually turning out alive, then going back to your lover only to realize they offed themselves? Such oddity. Wait, that was Romeo and Juliet…

Blinky settles to do a combination of both. He manages to forge a small dagger for you (with Draal’s assistance) before shaping a crystal into a flower. Both are gifts that he hopes you would love, as small as they were. His confession was within his own library. He could never forget the soft expression as he handed you the gifts, the smile as he spoke, and the warm embrace that followed after his declamation of love.

★・・・★⊱••✩••⊰•★・・・・★

[marauders-venting]

Pardon My French

pairing: wolfstar (sirius x remus)

genre: fluff

warnings: none

words: 3556

note: thank you to @ probably_wizardingworld_artist on instagram for helping me translate things into french. also i got some of the lines that sirius says from this website https://www.fluentu.com/blog/french/french-pick-up-lines/

a/n: if you dont speak french (like me) dont look up a translation! everything will be clear by the end of the fic and its more fun if you find out along with remus. i mean, i cant really stop you if you want to translate the sentences but thats just my advice :)

Remus was sitting in the library, a French to English dictionary open on his lap, sighing in frustration as he flipped through the pages. For the past couple of weeks, Sirius had taken to murmuring things in French under his breath and it drove Remus crazy that he didn’t know what they meant. He had asked Sirius on several occasions but Sirius always refused to tell him. But the fact that he didn’t understand the words wasn’t the only reason it drove him crazy when Sirius spoke French. It’s not Remus’ fault that Sirius sounds really hot when his lips curve around the words in “the language of love”.

Remus tries not to think about it but it’s becoming increasingly more difficult because every time they’re alone together Sirius seems to find something to say in French (if only to piss Remus off).

The last time Sirius had said something in French to him had been last weekend. It was the first sunny weekend since the winter and Marlene had suggested that they all go down to the lake for a swim.

Remus’ brain could barely form a single coherent thought from the moment Sirius took off his shirt; he was too busy trying not to stare. He remembered jumping into the lake and trying to get warm by swimming to the far side, away from all his friends. Sirius had followed him to make sure he was okay.

“I’m fine,” he had said, smiling slightly at Sirius. “Just cold.”

“Oh okay,” Sirius said, looking relieved. He had glanced back at their friends before whispering, “On devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique” and submerging his head in the water and swimming back to James, Peter, Lily, Marlene, Dorcas, Mary and Alice. Remus had felt a shiver down his spine that had nothing to do with the cold.

Then there was the time that Sirius had skipped Quidditch practice to visit Remus in the hospital wing after a particularly bad full moon. James, being the captain, had been able to delay the practice so that he and Peter could come to visit as well but they had to practice for the game the following day. James had to be at the practice because he was the captain and Peter had to be there because they didn’t have another Keeper to fill in. But James had given Sirius permission to stay with Remus (which showed just how terrible he felt that he couldn’t stay as well). They watched a bit of the practice from the hospital wing but Remus was getting frustrated, having to stay in a hospital bed for so long. So, after clearing it with Madam Pomfrey, Sirius helped Remus climb all the way to the Astronomy Tower. They sat up there watching the sunset when Sirius said, “Il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes.”

“Ugh, do you make it your life goal to patronize me?” Remus had said.

“Of course, Moony, what else would I live for?”

“Are you ever going to stop doing that?” he asked.

“Probably not,” Sirius had replied, grinning at him. “It’s too much fun.”

“Why do you even bother?” Remus said. “You know I don’t understand a single word of what you’re saying. Why don’t you go talk to someone who speaks French?”

“Because then they’d know what I was saying,” Sirius replied simply. He had refused to answer any more of his questions.

Remus had needed to spend that night in the hospital wing again. All night, Sirius’ voice rang through his head but every time he tried to make something coherent of it, actually words or letters or even sounds, he couldn’t. He could never remember what Sirius had said long enough to actually look it up or ask anyone.

But lately, Remus had noticed that Sirius had been repeating the same sentence in French practically every day. He recognises the sound of the words in Sirius’ mouth.

So today, Remus waited until he was alone with Sirius, waited for Sirius to say what Remus knew he would. And when he did Remus repeated the words in his head a million times until he remembered them. And now Remus was in the library and looking up the words in a dictionary. 

He knew that he could’ve gone to Lily and asked her to translate it for him but he didn’t want to. He knows it’s stupid but he feels like this is something that Sirius is saying to him and only to him. Remus had never heard Sirius whisper in French to anyone else. And as much as Remus pretended to be annoyed by it, he actually liked that he had this with Sirius. He liked that they had something that was just their own. And even though it was probably nothing, he didn’t want to share it with Lily right now.

Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi. That was the sentence. Remus looked up each word individually and came to the conclusion that he must have heard wrong or maybe the words were spelt differently to how they were pronounced. Because there was no way in hell that Sirius had said these words to him. It was impossible. Right? Remus didn’t know. And he knew that the only way he could be sure was by asking Lily. He had asked Sirius a million times to no avail. And he needs to know what Sirius has been saying to him, especially now that there’s a chance… No, Remus tells himself, you just translated wrong. Don’t get your hopes up. So Remus gives in. He’d rather ask Lily and find out what Sirius has been saying to him every day for the last month than keep this to himself without even understanding it.

“Hey Lily,” he started, getting her attention. Remus had waited until the two of them were alone, just in case he had translated right. Which he hadn’t. He knows he translated it wrong. But he’d still rather nobody knew about it. “What does ‘chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi’ mean?” He fumbled across the words a bit, hearing how terrible his pronunciation was. Lily looked at him, her eyebrows raised.

“Where on earth did you hear that sentence?” she asked.

“I read it somewhere,” Remus lied easily. “So what does it mean?”

“It means ‘every day, I fall more in love with you.’” Remus’ jaw dropped open. “Remus, who told you they’re in love with you?”

“What? Nobody! What makes you think someone said that to me?”

“You said that you read that sentence somewhere but if you had read it, you would have no idea how to pronounce it. Besides the look on your face when I told you what it means is more than enough. So who was it?”

“None of your business,” he said. “But y–you’re kidding, right? That’s not actually what it means. Right?”

“No, I’m not kidding, Rem. That’s what it means,” she replied, laughing at the look on his face. “Come on, tell me who it was.”

“No fucking way,” Remus said. “Besides, they’re probably joking. I mean… no, they’re definitely joking.” Lily shrugged.

“Just ask them,” she said. “And then you have to tell me who your secret admirer is.” She poked him in the side.

“Stooooop,” he said, jumping away from her and laughing against his will. “I’m going.” He got up and started walking away.

“Have fun with your mystery lover,” she called after him without looking back. Remus rolled his eyes but his mind was racing. So apparently he hadn’t been wrong. That was what Sirius had said to him. What does this even mean? He’s teasing you, said a voice in his head, like always. Sirius doesn’t love you. Not like that. But he said he does. Don’t be stupid. Sirius isn’t in love with you. He’s joking. Like always.

The next time Sirius said it, they were in the Room of Requirement. Sirius had ambushed Remus in the middle of his prefect rounds with Lily levitating a cardboard box in midair. Typical. He had practically given Remus a heart attack by interrupting his conversation with Lily, leaving Remus to wonder just how much of the conversation he had overheard.

“So have you talked to your mystery French lover yet?” Lily had teased. Remus groaned.

“No, I haven’t,” he said. “And I probably won’t.”

“Why not?” Lily demanded. “They’re being very romantic, Remus, you should at least appreciate their effort.”

“I’d appreciate it more if they’d just tell me what the fuck they want instead of sending me coded messages that they know I don’t understand,” Remus grumbled.

“Moonyyyyy,” Sirius said, coming up from behind him. Remus jumped, turning around, heart racing in his chest.

“Sirius? What are you doing here?” he asked. “You know it’s after hours, right?” Sirius snorted.

“Yes, Remus, I am fully aware of the fact that I’m breaking a school rule,” he said, smirking.

“Are you aware that technically Remus and I have to turn you in?” Lily said.

“Ah, but do you really plan on doing that, Evans?” Sirius asked.

“That depends,” she replied. “Why are you here?”

“Right,” Sirius remembered, then he turned to Remus. “James forgot to put this box with the rest of the stuff for tomorrow so I said I’d take it. And you’re coming with me.”

“Remind me why again?” Remus said.

“Moony, come on, don’t make me go alone. I’ll be lonely,” Sirius pouted.

“You are insufferable, did you know that?”

“And yet, you’ve tolerated me for 6 years now.”

“Yeah, the keyword there is ‘tolerated’,” Remus said, rolling his eyes. “Lils…” he started, turning to her.

“Nope,” she said before he could even ask. “No way. You are not leaving me to do these rounds alone because then I’ll die of boredom. So unless you want me to tell McGonagall that your planning something for tomorrow, you’re going to finish this floor with me and then I’ll go back to the common room and you can do whatever the fuck you want.”

“Evans…” Sirius pouted.

“Nope, that’s non-negotiable, Black. Also, do I want to ask?” She gestured to the hovering box.

“The less you know, the better,” he said. “Although, I would avoid the classrooms near the dungeons tomorrow if I were you.” She nodded and Remus thought he saw her smile slightly for a second.

“You go on, I’ll catch up,” he said to Sirius, knowing that Lily’s mind would not be changed. He couldn’t blame her. He wouldn’t have let her leave him to finish this chore alone either. She was right, it was painstakingly boring. Which is why he would much rather be with Sirius. But it was only fair that he finished tonight’s rounds with her; she did cover for him around the full moon, after all.

Sirius pouted but knew better than to argue and turned to go to the Room of Requirement. Remus watched him and he disappeared up a flight of stairs. Only then did he notice Lily was smirking at him.

“What?” he asked, sounding a bit defensive.

“So Sirius is your secret French admirer?” she said.

“W–What?” he spluttered. “What makes you think that?”

“Well, for one, the look on your face when he showed up right behind us while we were talking about your mystery lover,” Lily said. “It was the look people make when you’ve just been talking about someone and then they show up and you’re worried that they may have overheard you.”

“That… is a very specific look,” Remus said, avoiding the question she was asking.

“Then you smiled at him when you called him insufferable,” she said.

“So?”

“So it was one of those I’m-smiling-at-you-while-I’m-teasing-you-cause-I’m-secretly-in-love-with-you smiles.”

“Again, that's a very specific expression,” he said.

“Look, I know you like him, so will you just admit it already?”

“Why? What good would that information do you? It’s for me to worry about and for Sirius to never discover, ever.”

“Remus, you’re kidding, right?” she said. “Sirius literally told you that he loves you, in French no less.”

“Exactly, Lily. In French. If he actually meant it, why would he say it in a language that he knows I don’t understand? He just knew that I would look it up and he wanted to make some joke.”

“I really don’t think so, Remus,” Lily said, shaking her head. “I think he really loves you.”

“He doesn’t,” Remus said. “He can’t. Not like that.”

“Remus, do you love him?” she asked. Remus closed his eyes.

“Yeah,” he said quietly. “I love him.”

“So why are you doing this to yourself? Just ask him what he meant when he said it. You don’t even have to tell him anything, just ask him what he meant.”

“But… what if he says it was a joke?”

“First of all, I don’t think he will,” Lily said. “But if he does, that’s what you’re expecting, isn’t it? It won’t be a surprise or anything.”

“I know, I know, I just…” Remus sighed and looked away from her. “I don’t think I’m ready to hear him say it. To be properly rejected.”

“Oh, Rem,” she said. They had reached the end of the corridor and Lily stopped to hug him. “Obviously I’m not going to make you do anything. You know what I think. Go find Sirius now, he’ll be waiting for you. Do what you think is right.”

“Yeah,” Remus said, hugging her back. “Yeah, okay.” So Lily went in the direction of the common room and Remus went to the Room of Requirement.

He found Sirius sitting with his back against the wall, the box beside him.

“You’re an idiot,” Remus told him, trying to put the conversation with Lily out of his mind. “You’re practically begging to get caught.” Sirius shrugged.

“I was waiting for you,” he said. “Come on, let’s go in.” They paced back and forth in front of the wall three times. We need a place to hide our things, Remus thought. A door appeared and Sirius opened it, leading the box in with his wand. They had been here before to hide loads of things. The room was pretty cluttered from years of students dumping their things in it but they knew where exactly to hide the box so that they’d be able to find it tomorrow when they needed it. Remus followed Sirius through aisles upon aisles of junk, looking at all the broken, discarded things people threw in here.

They found the corner where they’d left everything else and Sirius added the box to the rest of the pile.

“Are we done here?” Remus asked.

“Yep, we can leave now,” Sirius said. They had started walking back towards the door when Remus heard Sirius say it from behind him.

“Chaque jour je tombe plus amoureux de toi.” Remus turns to him and stops him in his tracks.

“Pads, why do you keep saying that? Who are you talking to?”

“Remus, you are aware that you’re the only one here right? I’m talking to you.”

“Then why… why are you—?”

“I know, I know, you don’t understand French,” Sirius says. “That’s why it's fun. It’s amusing to know something that you don’t, for once.”

“Sirius… I know what that sentence means,” Remus says quietly. Sirius’ neck snaps up.

“What?”

“I know what that sentence means,” Remus repeats.

“No, you don’t,” Sirius says, shaking his head.

“Yeah, I do. I asked Lily after the last time you said it. She translated for me.”

“Fuck, I didn’t know Lily could speak French,” Sirius says, rubbing a hand over his face. “So… so this whole time you’ve known what I’m saying? So you know that I… you know that I… oh god, Remus I’m sorry. I didn’t mean… I didn’t want to… I was just…” Sirius starts to back away, shaking his head and looking anywhere but at Remus. Remus reaches out and grabs his hand.

“Don’t go,” Remus says. “Sirius. Is it a joke? Are you making a joke? Actually, no, don’t tell me. Cause if it’s a joke I’d rather you bury me under all the crap in this room and spare me the pain.”

“What?”

“It’s not a joke, is it?” Remus asked, a pleading look in his eyes.

“No,” Sirius said, softly. “It’s not a joke. I’m sorry, Remus, I didn’t mean to—”

“Shh,” Remus said, pressing a finger to Sirius’ lips. “Sirius,” Remus tucked Sirius’ hair behind his ear. Remus was vaguely aware of Sirius stepping towards him, towards his touch. “I love you, too.” Sirius gapes at him

“Really?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” Remus says. He’s still holding Sirius’ hand. He pulls Sirius closer and lets his other hand graze Sirius’ cheek.

“Puis-je t'embrasser?” Sirius whispers.

“Pads, I… I don’t know what that means.” Sirius lets out a small laugh and looks down at the floor. Then he looks back up at Remus, his grey eyes glistening in the last sliver of sunlight. He’s biting his lip.

“Can I kiss you?”

“Please,” Remus says, without thinking. He feels the blush blooming on his cheeks but Sirius is already kissing him, rising on his tip-toes to make his lips reach Remus’. Remus feels electric currents dancing around his body, unable to contain the excitement. He’s kissing Sirius. Sirius is kissing him back. Sirius loves him. Sirius loves him in the same way that he loves Sirius. Sirius is snaking his hands around Remus’ waist pulling him closer. Sirius’ hair is soft, tangled between his fingers. Sirius is here, in his arms, and it’s everything Remus has been wanting and more.

“Wait, so now can you tell me everything you’ve been saying in French the whole time?” They’re sitting in the same large armchair, hands still linked together, legs tucked against their chests, knees and thighs and hips pressed together. Remus is very aware of every point where his skin is making contact with Sirius’. He’s counting them.

They found the armchair in the Room of Requirement; it’s unclear to them whether the chair is something that’s been dumped in the room by somebody else or if the room conjured it up because they were looking for it. 

Neither one of them wants to go back to the common room yet. Remus doesn’t want to see Lily’s smirk and to have to admit she was right at the moment. He’ll do that tomorrow. Right now, all he wants is to be with Sirius. To press little kisses to his nose, his cheeks, his jaw, his lips just because he can.

“Oh god,” Sirius says, burying his face in between Remus’ shoulder and the back of the armchair. “It’s like you want me to embarrass myself.”

“This surprises you?” Remus kisses the corner of his mouth. Then his jaw. Then his neck. Just because he can. “Please.”

“Ah fine,” Sirius gives in. “Um, what do you want to know?”

“What did you say that day at the lake?” Remus asks.

“Oh that. I said, ‘on devrait t’arrêter pour excès de beauté sur la voie publique’. It means uh… ugh, you’re going to laugh at me for this. It means ‘you should be arrested for excessive beauty in public’,” Sirius said, blushing. Remus rolled his eyes but he felt his cheeks heat too. He smiles a little.

“What about that day on the Astronomy Tower?” he continues.

“Ugh,” Sirius buries his face in his hands. “You’re trying to kill me. I said, ‘il y a tellement de soleil dans tes yeux que je bronze quand tu me regardes’. Which means, uh… ‘there’s so much sun in your eyes that I get a tan when you look at me.’”

“You’re quite the poet, aren’t you?” Remus smiles. “And what about tonight?”

“I thought you said you knew what that meant,” Sirius says. “Or were you bluffing the whole time?”

“No, I know what it means,” Remus says. “I just want to hear you say it. In English this time, please.”

“So demanding,” Sirius teases. “I’ve said it in French a million times already and you want me to say it in English? What difference does it make?”

“Well, none to you, you speak both languages.”

“Oh, alright,” Sirius says. It’s the first time Remus has seen his face really go red. He decides he likes it. “Every day I fall more in love with you.” Remus can’t hide his smile, nor does he want to, as he leans in to kiss Sirius. He brushes his lips against Sirius’ timidly before connecting them, his hand caressing Sirius’ cheek. Remus loses count of the points of contact between him and Sirius as their bodies melt together and Remus worries that he’s about to wake up from a dream. But when he feels Sirius’ hand gently tracing the scars on his hand he knows that this is real, that Sirius can really love him. Sirius does love him.

People come to the Room of Requirement to throw things away, to hide things that they don’t want anybody else to know about, to leave things they never want to see again. But that night, Remus didn’t just leave something in the Room of Requirement. He found something, too.

[potter-imagines]

Best-friends to Lovers (Fred Weasley x Reader)

Pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

Request: can we get like... a lil fred weasley, you guys are good friends and you don’t usually go back for the holidays, and Fred invites you back to the Burrow to spend the break there and y’all like totally fall for each other 🥺

Warning: None (I switched it up just a tiny bit to where they’ve already developed some feelings but they finally admit them sooo hope you enjoy!)

Word Count: 4.5k

It was a flurry and cold winter night, the kind of night when every breath stings the lungs and every exhale chills the lips. The frigid air, the slippery ground and the sheet of white covering the once green grass. All signs winter was here and cold times were ahead. Even in the highlands of Scotland, the winters were ferosus and unforgiving. You despised the freezing temperature, but Fred was far too convincing and a midnight walk with him was something you couldn’t find the words to turn down.

For the first time in the five years you had spent at Hogwarts, and the five years you had been best friends, you had finally accepted the twins offer on spending Christmas at the Burrow with their family. It was a turn of events in your typical holiday plans which were mostly spent alone at the castle. Your first two years at school you had traveled home for Christmas. It wasn’t terrible, but it wasn’t exactly a ‘jolly’ time either. Family time came few and far between. The sparse time you did spend around your family had grown… awkward. Being the only witch in your family didn’t help much either. As the years dragged on, you felt like a stranger in your own home. Your parents spent their entire year with your younger brother, so he had undoubtedly grown to be the favorite and the prized child. They still loved you of course, it just felt forced to engage with them at times.

So it came as a pleasant surprise when you walked into the Weasley’s home and were engulfed in a warmth you had never known. Molly Weasley was the first to greet you, popping out from the staircase with a shimmering grin. Before you could register what was happening, she pulled you into a bone crunching grip rambling on about how good it was to meet you. Arthur hugged you as well and teased about how much the twins would talk about you, especially Fred. Fred would turn bashful but he didn’t deny it.

Ginny showed you around the house, beating Fred and George to the chance. Molly set up a mattress on the floor next to the youngest Weasley’s bed, something Ginny was over the moon thrilled about. She had been longing for a sleepover with you for years now. Ever since her first term, she followed you around like a little puppy. So your first night at the home, Ginny coerced you into a slumber party immediately.

The twins, mainly Fred, weren’t too happy at this. They were the ones who invited you yet their little sister was stealing all your time. Fred was bitter when you hurried off from dinner to go join Ginny upstairs, not even bidding him a farewell.

George insisted his twin was being dramatic- they had an entire month for Merlin's sake! The feelings his brother developed for you, their best friend, was clear as crystals to George. They both shared a crush on you for the first year at Hogwarts but George’s feelings quickly shifted to a friendship, sister love. Fred on the other hand, well his crush only evolved further. George noticed it the second Fred started combing his hair before dinner and always placing himself the closest towards you. It was a topic they danced around for quite some time. He teased his twin for years until the idea came to him that Fred still felt this way towards you even after years. George had devoted his previous two summers to breaking Fred into admission. All he wanted was to hear his twin confirm his suspicions. Not that he needed that really, other people were beginning to notice as well.

One of them being your temporary roommate. Ginny was a top notch observer. During her second year, she started to catch on to the elephant that followed you and Fred into every room.

That first night, Ginny shed light on her theory by offhandedly making a rather large claim late that first night. While the two of you were chatting softly in the dark, the young girl declared out of the blue,

“I think my brother is in love with you.”

In an instant, your whole body froze over like water on a lake. You were thankful for the dark, it kept Ginny from seeing your wide eyed stare of shock.

“What?”

It was now you could see her small frame adjusting in her bed. Even with the lack of light, you saw her sitting up on her bed, propping her weight on one elbow. It could be assumed she had a devilish smile as she probed on.

“Fred… pretty sure he’s in love with you.”

“Why, what makes you think that, Ginny?”

“Quite a laundry list of things, actually. First, he never shuts up about you. Second, he’s always trying to be around you. Third, he’s always staring at you… bit creepy. Fourth, he’s told our nanna about you! Lastly, and most obvious, I heard him telling George right before school started.”

Laying back down, you fixed your eyes on the ceiling taking in her words. Does your best friend really share the same feelings for you? It was too good to be true, it couldn’t be true, you thought. This kinda stuff only happened in the movies and your life definitely was not a film gracing the silver screen. The butterflies went rampant in your stomach, fluttering about wildly. For a moment, you had forgotten Ginny was there, or that you were in her room, until she spoke again.

“So, what do you think of him?” She asked innocently. Tugging the fluffy blue blanket closer to your chest you replied,

“Pardon?”

Ginny wasted no time and reached over to flicker the light switch on her bedside lamp. A bright light broke through the pitch black darkness of the bedroom. You groaned at the act but Ginny spoke over your sounds of protest.

“Are you in love with Fred?”

Running your hand over your face, you let out a sigh. It was getting too late to be thinking about such heavy topics. You had a great friendship with Ginny, you really did, but if you couldn’t even deal with these emotions on your own, you really didn’t want to throw your thoughts on her.

Turning over on the mattress, you rolled your eyes.

“Ginny, I’m not even dating Fred.”

“But you want to.” She confirmed stubbornly.

“I mean… I-I don’t know, Ginny. Can we talk about something else, please?” You wanted to hide under a blanket and avoid the question for all of eternity. She had caught you off guard and although the feelings you felt towards Fred were strong, it wasn’t something you felt ready to face yet. It wasn’t easy being in love with your best friend- there was so much risk, so much to lose if things went south. You settled on keeping Fred as a friend rather than gamble the option of rejection and a change in your relationship forever.

Ginny perked her brow, opened her mouth as if ready to rebuttal, then deciding against it. The corner of her tip twitched to a smirk as she replied,

“Hmm, okay.”

The topic was dropped for the rest of the night as Ginny went to bed shortly after, but it wasn’t completely over. From then on, you began noticing the constant little redhead attached to your coattails. You noticed each time Fred shooed his sister off and demanded she find something better to do. He was edging closer and closer to his point of eruption. This break was supposed to be time for him to spend alone with you and finally confess his feelings. Not Ginny being your shadow and George tagging along for every outing.

Now on your walk almost a week later, your mind hadn’t stopped wandering to that conversation. Ginny hadn’t brought it up again, at least not vocally. During breakfast the next morning after your talk while you're placed between Fred and George joking around with them, she’ll send you knowing looks, giggling to herself. Harry started to pick up on this as well and you noticed Ginny whispering to him afterwards. It didn’t help that Fred would take any opportunity he could to make you laugh and be in your presence.

Last night you found yourself sitting in front of the fireplace with George, Ginny, Ron, Harry and Fred. A steaming mug of hot cocoa was clutched in everyone’s hand. After about an hour of talking softly and sharing stories, Ginny, Ron and Harry decided to call it a night and trudged up the stairs together. You waved to them as they disappeared up the wooden steps, the sound off their feet turning quieter with every second.

As the three of you sat closely, it felt like you were back at Hogwarts in the common room. George was gushing about a Muggle film you had shown him earlier in the day and Fred was silently listening in, a small smile kissing his lips. You were sat at Fred’s side, your backs against the couch and his arm thrown casually around your shoulder. George was laid on the smaller couch across from the two of you, rambling on to himself. As his talking continued, Fred slowly worked to move your body closer to his and nearly in his lap. He did it so naturally you almost failed to notice. The loud, booming tone of George simmer out within minutes. His voice seemed to sooth him into a slumber as his harsh snores suddenly cut through the air, having talked himself to sleep. This caused the both of you to start laughing. Fred’s arm gripped you tighter as his body shook with chuckles. The sensation sent an odd shiver down your spine. It felt… nice, really really nice to be in his arms.

Fred wondered if now was the time. It was the first chance he had gotten alone with you for almost a week, so there was a good probability he wouldn’t get another for a while. He needed to make a move, something at least! Fred hated not having the bravery like the Gryffindor he was to fess up and spit out the words to describe how he felt about you. Closing his eyes, Fred took a deep breath then peeked his gaze open once more. The nerves had calmed and for the first time, he felt ready and he knew he had to act on it. But as he looked down at you, all the confidence had vanished with one glance. His throat dried as your eyes met and a faint precipitation budded in his palms. All the words he had been rehearsing for a year now simply slipped out the back door.

You took note of the ghost white paleness that took over and immediately sat up, removing yourself from his arms to ask,

“You alright, Freddie?” The concern dripped from your words as you examined the face of your best friend. His eyes were lowered, glued to the flickering flames of the crackling fire.

“Of course, love. I’m sorry, was just thinking.”

“Aw, Freddie, we talked about this. You know thinking is no good for you- you’re brain can’t handle it, darling!” Fred’s heart leaped at the adorning pet name. Only recently had you started calling him more loving names, and it drove him absolutely mad. No girl could ever get his heart racing with just one word like you could. He loved hearing such names coming from your mouth, and directed to him. There was only one name he would die to call you and that was his.

“Can I take you for a walk, love?” The request came abruptly, completely out of the blue. Your eyes widen at his question. Any other time you’d say yes without a second thought. Although, it was late and the land was not a territory you were familiar with like Hogwarts.

Your eyes fell on the window behind the couch. Large white snowflakes swirled from the sky and coated the grounds. The heavy black winter jacket you packed was hung up neatly by the door, not having been touched for at least a day.

Turning your attention back to Fred, you realized his eyes were already trained on your face. At your glance, a hopefully smile reached his cheeks.

“It’s nearly midnight I… actually, why not? Sure. But if we run into any wolves, I’m sacrificing you to them, Weasley.” He laughed at your response and quickly jumped up. You set your hands to your side, readying yourself to stand when suddenly, Fred’s large hands attached to your sides and lifted you up to your feet. You stumbled trying to gain balance but once again, Fred was right there to help you.

Unexpectedly, his left hand extended out and intertwined his fingers in yours. Just as you had predicted, his touch was warm, addicting in a way. It set off a pool of security and protection. Instead of fearing what may lie in the open land outside his house, you trusted Fred.

The tall boy walked you towards the door and pulled your long coat from the hook then threw it around your body. You slipped your arms into the fuzzy material as he yanked his heavy jacket on. Watching the never ending snowfall outside, you worked your hands into the black mittens you had stored in the coat pockets. You hoped it wasn’t as bone chilling outside as it looked.

“Here, I think you might need this, love. You can use my scarf too if you’d like. Don’t want you freezing to death, that’d be hard to explain to George and the rest of our friends.” Fred placed an extra winter hat of his on top of your head. Heat slapped your cheeks at his movements. Fred was commonly sweet towards you but lately, he had been extra sweet. Small gestures here and there were adding up and raising a bit of questions in your mind.

You knocked Fred jokingly on the shoulder and remarked,

“Reckon they’ll send you to Azkaban for that one. I’m a saint, everyone loves me, Fred.” You teased him playfully before accepting his offer with a thank you. Instead of handing you the maroon and gold striped scarf, Fred leaned forward and wrapped it snug around your neck. Once finished, his fingertip tapped against the tip of your nose, grinning to himself.

“You’re not wrong about that. We should get going though. The killer trolls will rise from the ground soon!”

“Knock it off!” You scolded him in a hushed tone, careful not to wake his sleeping family as you chased out of the house after him. Running down the steps, you saw Fred waiting near the car for you. There was an open path behind the car, a makeshift road but the kids used it for a walking guide.

He motioned you over waving exaggeratedly.

“C’mon, darling! You’re taking forever.” Fred moaned on dramatically as he waited for you to catch up to him.  

“It’s freezing out here, be patient.” You waddled over to his side and stood close to his frame, egar for warmth. Fred took in your shaking body and wrapped his arm around your shoulder and tugged you towards his side.

Snowflakes landed on your eyelashes, conflicting your view. Despite the coldness of the winter air, the landscape was beautiful. There were miles and miles of open plains on all ends of the Burrow. In a way, they were isolated, but the atmosphere was live with activity. It was impossible to be bored when the Weasley siblings were around. There was so much to do, in an exploring sense. You had never felt so free, so open before. It was refreshing to spend time at Weasley's home. As the two of you walked together in the crunchy snow, Fred pointed to a large field, a makeshift pitch if you had to guess.

“Charlie and Bill taught George and I how to play Quidditch over there the summer after our first year. Percy hated playing with us! We’d all gang up on him- even if he was on our team- and try to knock him off his broom. I don’t think he’s played with us since! You would’ve died of laughter seeing how angry he got.” You watched as Fred’s features scrunched in laughed at the memory. His contagious chuckles infected you as you laughed along. It was a recollection you could imagine perfectly, even if you weren’t there. Percy was an easy target but he had done it to himself so there wasn’t much room for blame.

Shrugging your shoulders you said,

“I would say poor Percy but he turned me in for being out past curfew so, I’m proud of you, Fred.”

“Sounds like him, just try being related to him. He runs to our parents for everything! Every. Little. Thing. It’s infuriating.” Your cheeks began to sting from smiling so much, but when you were around Fred, it was a given. He had an affect on you that no one else seemed to earn. Even when you were on the brim of tears, Fred always found a way to bring a grin to your face.

But still, you thought about Ginny’s words and the change in Fred throughout your years as friends. Nights were lost tossing and turning over the thought of that prankster redhead who had occupied all your notions.

Lifting your hand up slightly, you grabbed for Fred’s gloved hand. He gladly accepted your gesture and squeezed on your hand as you continued to walk further from the home. Fred’s attention soon dropped as his consciousness drifted once again. Pursing your lips you drew him out.

“Freddie, what’s on your mind? You’ve been different since we got here. I mean, it’s not a bad different. It’s just… something is different with you and you’re my best friend so I wanna know.”

Fred’s eyes snapped up at your concerning voice and the startled expression met yours. This was definitely not a common act for Fred. Your mind raced at the possibility of what it could be but luckily, Fred didn’t make you wait long for an answer.

His pace slowed, but his feet still dragged in the powdered flakes holding your hand. You wanted to hear him speak so bad although you respected the time he needed and waited in silence as you continued to walk. It didn’t take long for Fred to shatter the thin air,

“Can I ask you a serious question? Like one that could change everything.”

“You can ask me anything, Fred. You know this. It won’t change a thing.” You replied seriously. Fred could hear the truthfulness in your words and it calmed him, only a little though. The looming fear, and reality, of rejection was becoming all too real. Even worse than rejection, Fred had a feeling if he didn’t take his chance now, he might never have the opportunity again.

“Do you see me only as a best friend?” The nervousness in his voice broke the peace of the air. Your feet halted at the cavalier inquest. Fred had asked quite the offhand questions before but this, this was new. Mentally attempting to connect the pieces, you tilted your head in confusion.

“Freddie…” The mummer was faint, almost failing to register from your lips. The Burrow was still in near distance and the moonlight provided enough light to search Fred’s face. You weren’t sure what to make of the inquiry exactly, but your heart race excelled in anticipation.

Fred Weasley shifted in the crystalline snow. His hands were shoved deep in his coat pockets and his legs bounced in his stance. You knew him well enough to see the contemplation written across his features.

“Y/n I really really like you. I promise this isn’t a joke or some prank. If you don’t feel the same I can find a way to accept it but I don’t wanna lose you in my life. I just can’t hold it in anymore. It’s been five years of tortue now and… I just needed to get it out, love. I think I might be falling in love with you- if I haven’t already.” As Fred poured his heart out openly, the dripping snowfall ceased all together. It was magically in a sense. The loud slush was now quiet, almost like drizzling rain. His gingerbread eyes were studied upon you, waiting for any sort of reaction to surface. You just gazed up at him scavenging for the perfect words to spill your emotions.

“You’ve liked me for five years?” You asked, stunned. That was impossible. All this time you had spent crushing on Fred and admiring him, stuck in the friendzone, you could’ve just talked to him and been honest. Fred’s eyes darted back to his house then to you anxiously.

“Yeah. I’ve just been too scared to tell you. I don’t want it to ruin our friendship, that’s the last thing I could take.”

Your heart dropped at his words. It was funny in a way, he had the same fears as you. In the same way, you felt guilty for putting him through the same torture you had been going through the last few years as well.

With a surge of confidence, you snapped your head up to Fred and quickly remarked,

“Will it ruin our friendship if I think I’m in love with you too?”

The stillness in the air was unreadable at first. Your gazes trained intently on each other. The uplift gleamed in Fred when he took in your words. All his fears went away like the swish of a wand.

Half out of adrenaline, the other half out of want for years of desire, Fred took one step forward and closed the small gap of space between the two of you by pressing his lips tightly against yours. His hands rested on your face, and the small of your back to keep you steady. This you were thankful for this as his quick actions took you by shock nearly knocking you off your feet.

Your left hand drew up to his hair, finding a tight grip in his shoulder length locks, something you’d been dreaming about doing. The kiss intensified as you indulged in the lock and pressed closer to Fred. Your mouths moved together as if snogging was naturally with you two.

Your lungs demanded air after a few minutes and you slowly pulled away from Fred’s lips and leaned away to regain your composure. You could hear Fred panting at your side, also processing what just took place. Your hands never left each other’s and he suddenly squeezed yours to earn your attention. A genuine look crosses Fred’s face as he whispered into the cold air,

“Can I ask you to be my girlfriend now or do you want me to woo you over on a date first?” His sweet words nearly melted your heart. As easy as you were to please when it came to Fred, this heartwarming exchange felt like the perfect night to declare as a first outing.

“I think I’ll count this as our first date, it was quite romantic.”

Fred rolled his eyes with a smirk. It made him happy that you weren’t demanding or the snotty type. He loved that the small things made you glow with happiness. Even with this, he was still mentally planning a date to take you on before break ended. Although you still had yet to answer his big question.

“So does that mean you’ll be my girlfriend?” You had to swallow back a laugh as you realized you never officially answered Fred. Despite your kiss, he still looked worried you’d turn him away. Shaking your head with a smile you replied,

“Yes, I won’t make you beg anymore.”

Fred wasted no time snatching you by the waste and giving you a small twirl around the snow. A yelp sounded from your lips and you hoped it wasn’t loud enough to wake anyone sleeping at the Burrow. Fred chuckled at your protests and placed you down delicately. Placing his hands on either side of your face, the joyful Gryffindor snogged you lightly, but his passion still seeped through.

“Merlin’s beard, can’t believe it took my stupid arse five years to ask you out. I could’ve been kissing you years ago!”

“Guess we were both missing out. Feel dim for thinking I was going to ruin everything between us if I told you how I felt. But I’m so happy, Freddie.”

“Here, darling,” His gloved hand jerk back to the house, “We oughta head back, now. Mum will kill me if she finds out we were out this late! She thinks you’re an angel so you’ll be fine but I’ll be six feet under by dawn. I can’t wait for morning, though. I can finally brag to everyone that you’re mine, love.” His lips pressed against yours again, desperate to relive the spark and it did not disappoint. Kissing Fred felt natural, like you melted into the embrace. Your lips molded in sync, matching up like magnets. His tongue drew a line across your bottom lips as he kissed you deeper.

Coming back to earth you detached from Fred with a light ‘smack’ noise. Neither of you could wipe the childlike grins off your faces. His plump cheeks turned crimson in the night. Unable to shake off the excitement of the night’s events, you leaned into Fred’s body, giving him a tight hug. He returned the embrace instantly and left a long kiss to the top of your head.

Leaning away, you planted one last kiss to Fred’s cheek then held his hand as you two walked towards his home. The light at the top of the Burrow, assumingly Fred and George's room was turned on. Brightness shone from the window and you pointed up at the sight. The house was only feet away and you started to wonder what George would think of the news.

It could be assumed he wouldn’t be shocked. George spent the last year making comments to you here and there, prying in on you and Fred. Ginny of course wouldn’t be too blown away either, but what about Ron and Harry?

Fred already knew what their reactions would be. He knew without a doubt all of your friends would be thrilled, but no one would be too taken aback by your new relationship. It seemed the only two students who were oblivious to your shared feelings, were Fred and yourself.

“You think they’ll be surprised to hear we’re dating?” You wondered out loud. Fred swung your hand in a back and forth motion as you approached the front porch of the house. Your question obtained a chuckle from Fred as he shook his head,

“Not one bit, love.”

[dawl-and-dapple]

rating: general word count: 1443

Essek and Jester being sweet, based on the non-sexual intimacy prompt 'escorting the other to a doctor/ therapist appointment' given by @mllekurtz

***

Can you drive me to the dentist next week pretty please?

It’s been almost a year since Essek had first been asked to give one of his friends a lift. The requests had slowed somewhat since Caleb finally got himself his own car two months ago, but he is not yet necessarily free from this particular duty. Now he receives a text asking to be driven out of town most often when Caleb is occupied with work, sick, or inebriated.

These texts used to make him wince. After some time they made him smile. These days, they tend to catch him a little off-guard.

Is Caleb not available? he responds.

No, Jester texts back, he’s got an appointment too. Are you gonna be busy?

No, I will be available. I’ll drive you.

Thank you!! I’ll meet you outside the school like usual!! Love you so much!!!!

Essek puts away his phone. He remembers where Jester’s dentist is from the last time she had him drive there. There’s a nice café two blocks away where he could wait out her appointment, reading and enjoying a cup of tea, before driving her home again. He puts his mind to picking out which book to bring.

Five days later, when Essek arrives in the small car park across from the art college, he’s twenty minutes early. He occupies himself by methodically checking his emails, texts, then social media.

Caleb has sent him a photo of Frumpkin playing with his television’s cables. Essek asks if he’s forgotten about his therapy appointment. Caleb responds with a photo taken through a windscreen of a city road, blocked with traffic as far as the eye can see, and a text reading, I wish I had.

Someone knocks on Essek’s window.

“Hey!” Jester’s nose presses up against the glass. “You got here early,” she says, muffled. “You should have let me know.”

“I am not going to encourage you to leave class early, Jester.” He opens the passenger door.

“Boo.” Jester flops into the seat and begins buckling herself in as Essek starts the engine. “We could have hung out a little! We’ve all been so busy since the summer and I miss you, you know. I wanna know how you’ve been! Do you wanna talk about work? Probably not. How about, um, how’s the new flat? I heard Caduceus helped you settle in.”

“I have been well,” Essek says as he pulls out of the car park. “You remember that miniature flower bed you helped me build on my windowsill? I have been growing a little basil plant there.”

“Oh! Have you used the leaves to make anything?”

Essek winces. Of the scant few recipes he could reliably prepare, most are from his home. He’d failed to find a Xhorhasian supermarket in the area after moving and had taken it as a strong sign to try working with what he’d been given. But his lack of experience cooking anything at all made adapting that much harder.

“The cooking part...I am working on that. I will be asking for Caduceus’ guidance again.”

“I’m sure you’ll get the hang of it,” Jester says airily while digging through the small collection of audiobooks and music discs in the door compartment. “How long have you had these? Caleb’s car doesn't even have a CD player. Oh, I bet Caleb could help!” She grins at his reflection in the internal mirror. “He can make some very tasty Zemnian meals, you know.”

“I do know. I believe I’ve eaten one or two prepared by him at a dinner party with the others.”

“You should ask him to teach you the recipes.”

“I might. What did you get up to today? Painting? Sculpting?”

Jester smirks. She answers him, goes on to talk about her current project (a ten-foot-tall collage of hundreds of vintage pinup photographs, though Essek cannot parse the meaning of it). Essek gets the distinct impression that she’s barely holding herself back from needling him more.

As they reach the edge of the city, the traffic slows. A heavy sense of doom overcomes Essek, while Jester flips through the radio channels.

Someone behind Essek honks. He grits his teeth.

“Oh, the traffic here is pretty bad, huh.”

Essek flexes his hands around the steering wheel. “Yes, it seems so.”

Jester turns the radio off. “Do you have to be anywhere after this?”

“No,” he replies. The car comes to a dead halt. “I do not.”

Jester bounces in her seat as if she might be able to peer over the roofs of the dozens of gridlocked cars ahead of them. “Oh man,” she says. “I’d get there faster if I walked.” She goes quiet. After a heartbeat she smiles and turns towards Essek. “Hey Essek? Do you have any sexy audiobooks?”

“What?”

“Like, do you have a CD in here of someone reading a porn book out loud.”

“No, why would I have–?”

“That’s okay, I can plug my phone into the dashboard.”

“Please, Jester.”

“Okay!” She laughs, tucking her phone back into her jacket pocket. “What CDs do you have? All the titles are in Undercommon...”

“Most are audio documentaries. There are two about special relativity, one about magnetism, and one on the life of a particular astrophysicist. There’s also a rock album in there somewhere; my brother gave it to me as a joke.”

Jester snorts.

“I am very boring, aren't I?”

“No!” Jester suddenly grabs his shoulder and shoves him around in his seat, which would have worried him were they moving at any velocity at all. “You’re not! Essek, you’re very fun and interesting.”

Essek smiles as he’s shaken from side to side, keeping his eyes on the traffic jam ahead. “I am very fun and interesting,” he repeats.

She finally stops shoving at his shoulder. “I should get you some new fun CDs for your car. I don’t even know where to buy CDs these days, but I'll get you some.”

“Can you promise there will be no more than one pornographic item in this collection?” he asks, raising his brow at Jester in the mirror.

“Oh, sure.”

“Then, as they say, go wild.”

“Neat. Hey! I know we’ve all been super busy lately but I bet we can do, like, a dinner party or something. Just one evening. Yasha got back into town this week and Veth says Luc has been spending most weekends at his friends’ houses so she can come over. Maybe a Saturday night?” She’s pulled out her phone already. “We can just hang out in my and Fjord’s flat for a while. Or yours!”

“I do not think I have enough space for nine.”

“But would you be free?”

He thinks. “Next weekend, yes.”

Jester pumps her fist in the air. “Awesome! I’ll text the others.”

The traffic moves ever so slightly. Essek watches the cars ahead of him like a cat watching a bird.

“Beau might be the busiest but I bet she’ll want to come. Oh, Caleb can cook something with Caduceus! One of those meals you liked.”

“Uh, maybe.”

“Maybe you can show him a recipe you know too. Try that sometime.”

“Hm.” The car in front finally budges. Essek inches forward.

“I bet he’d love that, Essek.”

“Uh-huh.”

“I know you don't think you’re a good cook, but I remember that rice meal you made when I came over last spring and it was good!”

Now they’re driving again, if at no more than five mph. Essek grips the wheel.

“Make that meal, put on a good movie, wear something cute — that black top with the long sleeves I think — and it’ll be smooth sailing. Trust me, Fjord was no match for the tried and true Lavorre Technique.”

“Hm.”

“And then maybe you can finally talk to him about your big fat crush on Cay-leb.”

The car directly ahead halts. Essek swears and steps on the brake. He stares at Jester. “Pardon?”

She just grins at him.

“I was not listening. Sorry.”

“Oh that’s okay,” she croons, “But guess what…”

Essek is familiar with this tone. It doesn't scare him as much as it used to; he’s developed somewhat of a pavlovian response to her mischief in spite of his initial displeasure. As her grin widens, Essek feels a mirrored anticipatory smile spread across his face.

“You’re stuck in here with me,” she sings, waving her index fingers side-to-side with each word, “and we’re stuck in here together, and I wanna know the truth. So…” She leans forward. “Don’t you like him?”

Essek, face hot, but still smiling, reaches for the radio fast enough to fumble the air conditioning.

[savagetrickster]

Stay with Me | BNHA

request:  Hi! Can I request a scenario where Bakugou thought that reader was starting to lose interest, but in reality reader is just really busy and doesn’t realize she’s treating baku differently and Bakugou confronting her about it then it ends with some fluff fluff. 💖 p.s luv ur work

anime | character:  bnha | bakugou katsuki x reader

word count: 1949

themes/warnings: soft!bakugou, insecure bakugou,  college AU

a/n: sorry for not posting a fic in such a long time, I’ve been SO busy. so anyway, okay I kinda went little off-track and ended up writing the way it is shown below but i hope you’ll still enjoy reading this, though i have to say I’m not really fond of how it turned out. this fic has not been beta-ed so pardon me if you find any cringey error.

The city of Musutafu moved as sluggishly as possible for a city of its size and caliber. It was one of those days when the moon was mostly hidden behind the clouds.

Kirishima let his eyes roam the street outside. The inhabitants of the boulevard were constantly on the move despite being a Saturday; it was a startling contrast to the cafe they sat in where a comfortable nonchalance clung to every aspect of the little business.

The slow, sleepy music playing from the speakers.

The casual yet practiced movements of the baristas as they prepared the orders. 

The lazy, idling manners in the way the customers brought their cups to their lips. Carrying every bit of thoughtlessness and indifference in their actions.

Well, almost everyone but them.

A perplexed frown pinched between Kirishima’s brows as he turned his gaze away from the window beside them.

Bakugou Katsuki had been sulking at the window ever since he plopped into the seat across him. 

He had been sitting in brooding silence for what felt like fifteen minutes and the expression on his face hadn’t changed. If there were any at all, it was only that his scowl grew bigger.

“As much as I like hanging out with you, I have to say this is getting a little…weird.” 

Kirishima briefly flitted to the counter to see curious eyes on them, “My colleagues are starting to think we’re dating.”

Tonight was the fourth time Bakugou had come to find him right as he was knocking off from his part-time job this week. 

“Who gives a fuck about what they think?” Bakugou muttered gruffly,  finally looking away from the outside.  

Kirishima had known him ever since they met in middle school to know the scowl on Bakugou’s face was…well, his default expression. 

Long enough for him to tell at one glance that the scowl he’d been seeing on Bakugou’s face was different. This one seemed to come right out from the depth of his fierce vermilion eyes — Bakugou was upset.

And it was about you.

No matter how hard Bakugou tried to hide how much he was a sucker for you, Kirishima could always tell. 

Even though they had matured into college students, Bakugou was still the same stubborn guy who wasn’t the most comfortable displaying his affections openly.

Mere mentions of you would soften the scowl on his face, and the rough edge in his voice. It was easy for anyone else to miss the difference but it was obvious to Kirishima. 

His grumpy complaints about how clingy and touchy you are were one of their common topics in their conversations. The annoyance scowling in his eyes when he did was always subtly soft and warm. 

But something changed, as Bakugou had mentioned, in the recent two weeks.

Nights in his dormitory room were spent alone. He was so used to falling asleep and waking up, to the sight of you curling up right next to him.

The last time he saw you were from afar, watching you rushing off to somewhere. 

Dates with you, even as simple as a meal in the cafeteria was scarce. 

Your replies to his texts were late and sometimes curt. The usual ‘good morning’ and ‘goodnight’ from you, if you didn’t spend the night with him, were no longer…usual. 

Sometimes his messages to you would be left hanging for days before you replied.

The tone when Bakugou was telling him about all these strange distances between them was nonchalant, but the scowl on his face told Kirishima a different story.

Kirishima tried to think of something to say, but all he could think of in the end was the same thing he’d been saying ever since Bakugou shared this with him.

“Stop worrying man, she’s probably just busy?”

Bakugou’s face carried a carefully blanked expression as he raised his eyes to meet Kirishima’s.

“…Or maybe she’s losing interest in me.” 

His arm was tucked between his pillow and his head as his other held his phone to his face. Vermilion eyes stared blankly at the quiet chatroom he shared with you, particularly fixated on your last reply to him.

Two days ago.

The gloom hung over his gaze these days were like the dreary seasons of dull, gray monsoons. 

The hopeful morning sun filtering into his room through the wooden window blinds above him was a startling contrast, and so was the lively laughter ringing out from the basketball court somewhere near the dormitory blocks. 

Probably some idiots shoving snow at each others’ faces, Bakugou thought seethingly as he clicked his tongue in annoyance at a particular spike of volume in the ruckus downstairs. 

It was Saturday and the morning was already—

His eyes flitted to the time written in the corner of his screen.

— halfway to noon.

A quiet sigh left him.

Like on Saturdays, he should be on the way to meet you for your usual brunch. Except things weren’t quite ‘usual’ anymore.

Bakugou released another sigh as he let his phone fall away from his face along with his raised arm, landing on the bed under him with a muffled ‘plop’.

His forehead ridged with a scowl. Just how did he fuck things up?

His memories sifted through the times he called you names and how you would still smile back at him like he was your whole world as if he didn’t just call you an idiot, a nerd, or a moron. 

A bitter taste of guilt entered his mouth.

Maybe he shouldn’t have assumed that you knew he was feeling affectionate when he did?

Perhaps you’ve grown sick of him? And realized that you didn’t need a shitty boyfriend who called you insulting names or would shrug off your affections as if they were annoyances.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth as a frustrated hiss slipped from him.

Shit, maybe he did fuck up afterall. Fucked up big time.

And he was probably going to lose you. Everything that made you…you.

The way you smiled at him with a loving, bright glint in your eyes as if he was the one who put the stars in the sky.

The sweet kisses you love to plant on his lips and forehead.

How your hand would hold onto his — small but warm with your love.

Bakugou felt his throat swell with the presence of forming tears as his heart twinged in his chest.

The idea of losing all that spurred a rush of panic in him.

Bakugou shot off his bed, put on the nearest shirt and jeans he could grab, and hurried out of his room.

The first place Bakugou thought to look for you was your dormitory but his worst fear made him hesitate at your door, with a hand hovering over its handle. 

In fact, he’d thought about doing this for the past two weeks but the wisps of doubts whispering nasty things wouldn’t let him.

His jaw clenched to his gritted teeth.

What if there was someone else— 

Bakugou shoved the unfinished thought aside; it was unbearable to even think about that possibility. 

His scowling gaze snapped to his hesitating hand and his lips instantly curled into a sneer to a spark of irritation within.

What was with him? He was starting to remind himself of Deku, hesitating outside doors with twiddling thumbs like a wimp.

He was Bakugou Katsuki and he should be announcing his arrival by bursting through one.

Man, you thought you could finally enjoy a good night’s sleep after countless of sleepless nights.

But no…nope. 

The heater just had to break down at an ungodly hour when you were still trudging through the last thesis for your project and you could find no other alternative places to work on them. 

Bakugou came across your mind but again, it was crazy late or more accurately, early to budge into your boyfriend’s room.

Like every other night, you’d been tirelessly working on it so you could finally submit the project you’d been assigned since two weeks ago.

It was the infamous final year project you’ve dreaded ever since you heard about it from your senior — dubbed as ‘the project from hell’.

And indeed, it was a project from hell. It seemed to suck out your very soul. The exhaustion weighing you down like lead ran bone deep, that even lifting your head off your pillow was such a struggle.

With a broken heater sitting uselessly in your room, you’d spent the whole night wrapped in your blanket, with the lingering winter chill prickling at your skin. 

So you couldn’t help sighing at the sudden warmth enveloping your body after spending the night shivering away under your blanket at the mercy of the dropping temperature.

Your arms found their way around the heat source.

You didn’t see the tender curl of his lips when you sighed blissfully and nuzzled into his chest or the softening glint in the usual fierce edge held in his vermilion eyes.

It was like nestling inside a warm cocoon that…

— awareness seeping into your groggy senses pried your eyes open.  

…breathed.

What or rather who greeted you lifted you right out of your morning grogginess and struck you with an overwhelming barrage of emotions.

“…Ka-Katsuki!” You missed him so much.

Along with how the shadows and sunlight filtering in from behind you fell across and highlighted his chiseled profile, there was something about the way his intense eyes looked down at you with his head leaning against an arm. 

This sight gave your heart a fluttery squeeze.

You weren’t sure why Bakugou looked so strikingly handsome like this — maybe it was because you haven’t seen him for awhile?

“When did you come in here?” Words started pouring out of your mouth. 

You’ve always wanted to vent and rant about the dumb project to Bakugou so there was too much you wanted to say, 

“Oh my god, you’ve no idea how much busy I was these few weeks-” but the brooding look that hadn’t left Bakugou stopped you.”…Katsuki?”

You’d never seen Bakugou look this down before, and it didn’t sit right with you.

You hesitated but asked anyway.“…What’s wrong?” 

The cloud that fell over his eyes told you that something was definitely wrong.

“…I’m sorry, (Name).”

You grew concerned as you tried to understand his unreadable demeanor. “What’s this about— ”

“Are you losing interest in me?”

Your next breath was caught in your throat at his strange question and the only thing you could do was blurt out a —“What?”

You watch him exhale carefully with a bewildered look. 

Bakugou didn’t even care how he looked to you now.

“Look, I know I’m a huge fuck-up as a boyfriend and you probably think I don’t care about our relationship cause I act like I don’t.”

There was so much to say, so much guilt brimming inside him. 

“But shit, I do care.”

He was desperate. 

He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t. He loved you but he was an idiot for not showing that to you. 

So he needed to let you know now.

His hand on your waist pulled you up to him and his eyes were pinned on yours.

Your mouth opened, then snapped close at the silent, blazing gleam in his gaze.

Your voice had fled at the way he stared at you. 

Longing and heavy with remorse.

“Stay with me,” His lips brushed lightly across yours as his voice cracked with an aching need.” …please.”

He kissed you and the world fell away.

[togetherwearerapture]

Boundary (Ethan x MC x Tobias?)

Pairing: Ethan Ramsey x MC (Elle Valentine) x (hints of) Tobias Carrick

Description: Tobias and Elle get to know each other while working on a case. Tobias pushes some boundaries.

Warnings: A few curse words, underlying health problems. Most characters belong to Pixelberry.

Word Count: 5.9k

Notes: Something a bit different, but I very much enjoyed writing this. There’s no overt Tobias x MC, so this is hopefully something Ethan stans can enjoy reading too. If PB won’t give me what I want, I guess write it myself lol 

*********

It’s early Fall, yet despite this fact and the hospital’s ‘Bloom-and-improved’ ventilation systems, the diagnostics office feels uncomfortably hot. Elle feels a prickling heat across her back, one that she has become accustomed to of late. The façade she’s wearing is beginning to feel like an actual mask, all clinical-scented and restrictive and artificial.

And yet, this is not a mask she’s wearing on a crowded, sweltering T carriage. Her discomfort is unwarranted; there are, after all, only three of them in the room.

Oblivious, Ethan and Harper continue their conversation. She’s tuned out long ago, but she catches the premise- something that Dr Yannick once said at a conference in New York several years ago.

If she really tried, Elle knows she could search for a moment to join in the discussion. But if she’s being honest with herself, she’s tired of searching for sidegates to enter their house of conversation, instead of ever being invited through the front door.

She tries her hardest to appear relaxed, unbothered, indifferent. But her uneasiness spills into her mannerisms, like water through a cracked pot. Manicured nails drum erratically on the top of her thigh. Her top teeth tug, over and over again, at her lips. The apex of her stiletto heel taps the diagnostic office floor like a furious knife.

She likes and respects Harper very much, and her feelings for Ethan, both as a diagnostician and as her romantic partner are unfathomable. But as juvenile as it sounds, she’s so tired of being shut out.

A whooshing of the sliding doors breaks her out of her reverie, and she and the two other occupants of the room look up. Tobias Carrick strides in, all beams and bravado.

Her own notion takes her by surprise, but somehow, she thinks, his arrival is the breath of fresh air she so desperately needs.

“Goooood morning team!” he chimes brightly. Once again, his arms are laden with a trayful of drinks.

“Morning,” Elle offers him a warm smile, Harper echoing her words.

Ethan nods towards the drinks.

“Another round on you?”

“Sure is, but this isn’t just any old round, Ethan,” Tobias replies. “Now I’ve spent a week on the team, I take great pride in this being the first drinks order that’s just right, for all of you.”

Ethan quirks an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

Tobias grins, and plucks the first drink off the tray.

“Harper,” he presents her with an extravagant looking drink. “Chocolate frappucino. Double the sugar, double the caffeine. The Friday OR schedule is always jam packed, so I reckon you’ll need it.”

“You got that right, I’ve got two laminectomies today,” she sighs, although the passion for her job shines through her eyes. She takes a sip from her drink. “No complaints from me!”

“Excellent,” Tobias grins. “Ethan- a Vienna for you. Classic, refined, and,” he winks, “only a little pretentious.”

Ethan accepts the drink with a roll of his eyes, as Tobias moves around the desk to Elle.

“And now, for you Elle,” he hands her the third cup. “I must admit, for you I went out on a whim. I just hope my guess is a lucky one.”

Curiosity piqued, Elle presses the rim to her lips. She is aware of the eyes of both Tobias and Ethan following her action with interest. Mild, pleasant citrus swims onto her palate.

“Lemon balm?” she asks Tobias. He nods. “You going to elaborate?”

He shrugs.

“Well, I’ve noticed that I’ve never seen you with a coffee before 4pm, so I figured you like to limit caffeine earlier in the day. And I’ve seen you make up a couple of herbal teas before. I took a gamble and figured you’d like this one.”

“Impressive guess, Carrick,” Elle nods, amused. She takes a sip. “It’s good, thank you.”

“Those are some very…astute observations” says Ethan stiffly, as Tobias takes a seat beside Elle. “Maybe you can put your perceptiveness to better use for our next case.”

He slides three manila envelopes across the table, and the team begin to peruse.

“Jake Adams. 17-year-old male admitted last night, with multiple cardiac arrests,” Ethan begins. “He collapsed at school, was unresponsive, no signs of life, but luckily a fellow student was able to perform high-quality CPR until the paramedics arrived. Heart rhythm on their defibrillator was ventricular fibrillation, he was shocked, back to normal sinus rhythm. Between the scene, being loaded onto the stretcher, in the ambulance and arriving here, he arrested and was shocked again 5 more times.”

“Jesus, poor boy,” murmurs Elle, a crease forming between her brows.

“Cardiology have asked us if we can determine the cause of the arrest, which will of course determine the treatment,” Ethan explains.

“This case only came in last night and since he’s now on life support, we’re able to bypass Bloom’s absurd judicial performance and get straight into it,” Harper adds. “Actually, Ethan and I discussed it at length before you both arrived, and we have some solid ideas.”

Elle looks up from the file, quirking an eyebrow.

“Oh?”

“So I’m thinking Long QT syndrome, or maybe Brugada,” says Harper.

“They would definitely explain the spontaneous cardiac arrest,” Ethan adds, “Harper and I have ordered genetic testing for both on immediate family members already.”

“Any family history of sudden cardiac death?” Tobias asks.

“Not that we know of,” says Ethan. “But that wouldn’t rule it out.”

Elle frowns slightly as she browses the file. The tests ordered so far are scant, and in her mind, there are several pieces of the diagnostic puzzle missing. But this didn’t seem to stop Harper and Ethan steamrollering ahead, and seemingly settling on a diagnosis before the case had even been presented.

“Does Jake have a-”

“Do you remember that patient with Brugada syndrome who came in for a study a few years ago, Ethan?” Harper turns to Ethan suddenly.

“Ah yes, Paul?” Ethan chuckles, “he was quite a character.”

As Harper and Ethan drift off once again, Elle glances up to see Tobias looking at her quizzically. She lets out a heavy sigh.

Tobias clears his throat.

“Hate to interrupt your…uh…stroll down memory lane,” he begins. “But Elle was about to ask a question about the case, and you both spoke over her.”

The three other diagnosticians turn to Tobias, and a tense silence hangs in the air. After a beat, Harper speaks up.

“I’m sorry Elle,” she says, sincerely. “That was out of line, please continue.”

Tobias turns to Ethan expectantly, who meets Elle’s eye.

Something flickers across his face for a moment, a mixture of shame, guilt, embarrassment, perhaps? It’s a look that Elle can’t quite place. Then, his eyes skim to Tobias and he coughs awkwardly.

“Yes…thank you Tobias. We did speak over you, Elle, I apologise. What were you saying?”

“I was asking if he had a 15-Lead ECG.”

“Not yet,” Harper replies.

“Then until he has one, I don’t think you can consider Brugada syndrome,” says Elle. “We’d need to do an ajmaline challenge too. I can see from the echocardiogram reports in here that he has a structurally normal heart, so we can definitely exclude congenital heart disease as the cause. But for me personally,” she gestures to the file, “there’s a lot missing in here. About what actually happened.”

“How do you mean?” Ethan asks.

“About the context of the cardiac arrest. All we know is that he was at school, but what was he doing? Was he doing anything strenuous, did it happen at rest? There’s a lot more I’d like to know.”

The rest of the team nod thoughtfully.

“I agree…if it happened during exertion, there’s a few other things we could rule out,” says Tobias.

“Exactly,” says Elle. “I think we should consider catecholaminergic polymorphic ventricular tachycardia.”

“You’re thinking CPVT?” asks Ethan, interested. “It’s a possibility.”

“Yes, and it’s one I’d like to investigate more by visiting the school, and finding out more about what happened” says Elle.

“I think that’s a good idea,” Harper responds, twirling her fountain pen between her fingers. “But unfortunately, I won’t be able to join you on your expedition. Like Tobias said, I’ve got a full day in the OR.”

The rest of the team turn to Ethan, who hesitates.

“I…have a meeting with Naveen and the board until lunch,” he says. “Which-”

“-means it’s just you and me, Valentine!” exclaims Tobias, clapping his hands together. “Oh boy, I’ve been looking forward to my first house call with the diagnostics team. We’re going to be on some scooby doo shit, Elle!”

“I beg your pardon?” says Ethan, scowling. Elle can’t help but burst out laughing.

“That settles it then, me and Elle will go to the school,” says Tobias, standing up from his chair. At the same time, Harper gets a page that her surgery is starting and bids them a hurried farewell.

“I was going to say, which means the three of us can go this afternoon once I’m finished,” Ethan says stiffly, as Harper heads out. Tobias shoots him a bemused look.

“I’d rather not wait,” says Elle flatly.

Ethan has wasted enough time in their meetings by bringing up pointless anecdotes with Harper, and she’s very keen to revert her focus to the patients, to diagnostics- the things she loves.

“Me and Valentine will be just fine, E. After all, I’m sure what happened with Jake is still pretty raw to the kids and staff, we’ll need to handle it delicately. Two’s company, three’s a crowd, right?” Tobias flashes Elle a smile.

The same look as before flashes across Ethan’s face, although this time, Elle thinks, it has less of the awkwardness and embarrassment and more of the…something else. His bright blue eyes seem to narrow a fraction, as he looks between Tobias and the woman of his affections.

“Alright,” he sighs finally. “We’ll reconvene when you’re back.”

“Let’s get this show on the road!” says Tobias happily. “To the mystery machine!”

He crosses the room to retrieve his car keys from his bag, while Ethan turns to Elle, and this time, the look of concern is undeniable.

“If you need anything,” he closes some of the distance between them and lowers his voice just a little, “just call me.”

“I think we can handle it,” says Elle, not unkindly. “Enjoy your meeting. And tell Naveen I said hello.”

And with that, she and Tobias leave the office.

********

A short while later, Elle and Tobias are riding in his blue Mercedes S-Class on the way to Jake’s school, a short drive away in South Quincy.

“Not exactly the mystery machine, huh?” says Elle, glancing around at the plush interior.

Tobias shrugs.

“The same colour, at least.”

Boston blurs by as Tobias pulls into a main road, and Elle turns to look at him. His side profile is unmistakably handsome. He drives one handed, the other resting on his thigh.

“So, how’s June?”

He gives a wry half smile, and glances at her.

“Is that your way of asking if we’re still sleeping together?”

“No!” says Elle, honestly. “I’m just wondering how she’s fitting in at Mass Ken. I mean, she left Edenbrook when she thought the ship was going to sink. I got the impression she was pretty keen to be working on your team, now I can’t help but think now you’ve come here, Aurora too…don’t you think she’s been left kinda high and dry?”

“In all honesty, I haven’t seen her for a while, and don’t expect to again anytime soon,” Tobias admits. “But trust me, Hirata will be just fine. She’s head of the team there now.”

Elle raises her eyebrows, impressed.

“I’d say she moves fast, but actually, that doesn’t surprise me in the slightest.”

“She was pissed as hell when I said I was leaving, don’t get me wrong,” says Tobias. “But she’s the strongest diagnostician on that team, and the strongest player too.”

“Player?”

“She knows how to play the game. She’ll have no trouble asserting herself as the new leader, running the show the way she wants to.”

Elle thinks back to her time working with June. The way she changed her personality to gain patients’ trust…and Elle’s. Distant anger simmers at the back of her mind, as she remembers how June stole her employee file.

“I agree…office politics was always child’s play for June.”

“Speaking of,” says Tobias as they stop at a red light. He turns to look at her. “The meeting this morning seemed very…uh…political.”

Elle pauses as feels the uncomfortable tingling rise in her chest. She could ask “what are you talking about?”, but she knows exactly what he’s talking about. And there’s something about Carrick that makes her want to cut the crap, to be upfront. So she is.

“You mean Harper and Ethan…”

“Yeah, that. Whatever the hell that was.”

Elle is silent.

“Does that…happen a lot?”

“More often than I’d like.”

“Well, good job I’m here then,” he grins.

Elle’s head whips around.

“Excuse me?”

“C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t appreciate the out.”

She rounds on him.

“Ok, let’s make one thing clear, I don’t need you to fight my battles” says Elle angrily. “Since Harper joined, every time the two of them have gone off track, I’ve steered them back on. I’m here for the patient, to solve the case, and nothing is going to detract my focus from that. That’s the way it’s going to stay, with or without your “outs”, Tobias.”

Tobias chuckles.

“You’re feisty Elle, I like it.” His eyes sweep over her from head to toe, which makes Elle feel more angry, but also, inexplicably, makes her stomach flutter a little.

“What I mean is,” Tobias speaks more seriously; sensing her anger, but mercifully oblivious to the other sensation, “I hope you know you’ve got someone else in your corner Elle. I know how much you care about your patients, and I know Bloom’s going to make life for the team difficult, and try and undermine our every move. That’s not helped when it feels like you’re not listened to by the actual people in it. You’re an excellent doctor Elle, and I value your input. The others should too.”

Elle is dumbstruck. She still doesn’t know what to make of Tobias Carrick; she had picked up pieces and hints from the scattered stories she’d heard from Ethan, most recently in their walk through the rose garden. But while considering the perspective and feelings of the man she so deeply cares for, she acknowledges it is biased. Elle knows that she has good reason to be wary of Tobias; it was not just Ethan he had toyed with, after all- Aurora had been burned by him too.

But, Tobias had helped to save her life. And the genuine smile that he gave her through the contamination screens of that cursed room, on the worst day of her life, had always stayed with her.

So, with a pinch of salt ready between her fingers, Elle decided from the moment he joined the team, that she would form her own opinion of him.

It occurs to her then, just how much Ethan sees the world in black and white. But Tobias Carrick is very much a shade of grey.

Before she can respond to him, the GPS on Tobias’ dash declares that they are arriving at their destination, and sure enough, Elle sees the school up ahead on the right.

“Here we are,” murmurs Tobias as he pulls in through the school gates. “Looks like we’re expected.”

They park up and head over to the school steps, surrounded by blossom trees, where a middle aged woman offers them a watery smile and extends a hand.

“Ah, hello…the doctors from Edenbrook, I presume?” she asks. “I’m Helena Brady, the principal of Greenview High.”

“Yes, we spoke earlier on the phone,” says Elle. “I’m Dr Eleanor Valentine, and this is Dr Tobias Carrick. We’re here to speak to the people that were with Jake when he collapsed?”

“I’m afraid it’s just the one person,” says Helena gravely, leading them through the school. “His friend Charlie was the only one who saw it, and then ran for help. How is Jake doing?”

“He’s still in a coma, but stable,” says Tobias. “The most important thing for us to help him, is find out from Charlie some more about the collapse, and go from there.”

Helena nods, as they come to a stop outside a small office.

“We’ve all been praying for him, it’s so tragically sad…nothing like this has ever happened to a student before,” she sniffs stoically. “Thank you for your work doctors, but please, be gentle with the boy. He’s still very shaken.”

Elle smiles at her reassuringly.

“We will be, don’t worry.”

As Tobias and Elle knock and enter the room, the boy springs to his feet, eyes wild.

“You’re the doctors…how’s Jake, is he-oh god is he-is he dead?” he cries.

“No, Jake is ok. He’s been through a lot, but he’s recovering,” says Elle gently. Charlie sinks back into his chair, though his knees are still quaking.

“It’s Charlie right?” Tobias asks, pulling up a chair. “I’m Tobias and this is Elle. We’re Jake’s doctors. Do you know why we’re here today?”

“Y-yes, that’s me,” Charlie sniffs. “Principal Brady said you were here to talk to me about Jake…I was so scared, I thought, I thought that meant he had died.”

Elle kneels in front of him, laying a gentle hand on his knee.

“I’m really sorry that us coming made you think that, Charlie,” she says. “It must have been really tough watching Jake collapse like that, I’m not surprised you’re thinking the worst. But we think we can help Jake get better, we just need your help.”

Some of the tension seems to leave Charlie’s body upon hearing this; his shudders subside. He pulls anxiously at the strings of his hoodie, unruly teenage bangs falling over his forehead.

“So, Charlie,” Tobias asks as Elle pulls up a chair beside him, “do you think you could tell us a bit more about what Jake was doing when you saw him collapse? Had he been running, exercising, working out?”

“No,” Charlie says quietly. “He wasn’t doing anything like that.”

“That’s really helpful Charlie, thank you,” says Elle. “Can you tell us if he standing up or sitting down? Did he lose his balance or seem dizzy? Did he complain of feeling ill, or funny in any sort of way before it happened?”

Charlie stiffens.

“No. He was-we were-we were arguing.”

Tobias and Elle exchange a quick look.

“Is Jake your friend, Charlie?” Tobias asks.

“No! No he’s not, and I’m so sick of pretending he is!” Charlie shouts. “Jake’s my boyfriend!” Tears begin to roll down his cheeks.

“Oh Charlie, I’m so sorry,” says Elle. “You said you were pretending…does anyone else know that?”

Charlie shakes his head.

“No. That’s what we were arguing about,” he accepts a tissue that Elle offers, blowing his nose.

“Take your time, Charlie,” says Tobias, leaning back in his chair and folding his arms. “It’s ok.”

After a few deep breaths, Charlie steels himself.

“We’ve been dating for three years, kind of in secret, kind of not,” he explains. “My parents know I’m gay, and they’re fine with it. They’ve met Jake before and they love him, they know we’re together. But he’s not even out to his parents, they just think we’re friends.”

He sniffs.

“Now we’re in senior year, we’re both looking at colleges, and we want to go to different ones. We’d be living five hours apart. I don’t know if we can make the long-distance work, especially if his parents don’t know about us. In the times we’d both be back home, they wouldn’t understand why he’d want to spend a lot of that time with me. But the one thing I just really, really wanted, was for us to go to senior prom together. As a couple, you know? To just dress up together, get photos together, dance together, one last time before we leave.”

“And Jake…wasn’t on board with that?” asks Elle.

“He was,” says Charlie. “He said he really wanted to. He just…wasn’t on board with the part of that which meant he’d have to come out to his parents.”

“I see,” says Tobias.

Charlie’s eyes begin to fill with tears again.

“I was saying, before he collapsed, that he didn’t love me,” he cries. “That he must not love me if he’s not prepared to come out. He was getting so upset, begging me, telling me of course he loved me, he was just scared, and then-” he sobs. “Then he was on the floor.”

Elle kneels beside him again, taking both his hands in her own.

“I’ve been googling stuff that could have caused it,” Charlie sniffles. “I saw there’s this condition, some long one beginning with, a C, I think, that means people’s hearts can give out when they’re stressed.”

Tobias raises an eyebrow, somewhat impressed at the boy’s diagnostic skills.

“What if-what if I could’ve killed him, because of the argument? And I told him he must not love me, I didn’t even mean it, I know how hard it is to come out, I didn’t mean to-” he buries his head in his hands.

“Charlie- Charlie listen to me,” says Elle. “It’s true, that we think Jake might have a condition called CPVT. It means that certain situations, like exercise, or stress, can cause the heart to go into an abnormal rhythm. But that does not mean, whatsoever, that any of this is your fault. We all say things we don’t mean in the heat of the moment, when we’re angry. If Jake does have this condition, and we’ll have to run a couple more tests to know that for sure, then it means that we can treat it, and stop it from happening again. It could have happened to him at anytime, anywhere, but he was lucky enough to be with you. You’ve helped him have a lucky escape.”

“R-really?” asks Charlie.

“Really,” says Tobias, who is on his feet. He lays a hand on Charlie’s shoulder.  “Your principal was telling us earlier that you did CPR on Jake while you got others to run for help?”

“Yes,” Charlie mutters, looking up at Tobias.

“Well Charlie, I think you saved his life.”

Charlie’s eyes gleam with hope.

“What are you applying for at college?” Tobias asks.

“Um..cardiac nursing,” he says.

“Very fitting. You’ll always be welcome at Edenbrook for some work experience.” Tobias smiles, genuinely. It’s the same smile Elle remembers from after the attack.

“Do you think, then, that he’ll be ok?” Charlie asks tentatively.

“Yes, I do,” smiles Elle. “And I think that you and Jake will be ok too.”

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

Some time later, Elle steps out of the school. After speaking at length with the school counsellor, she had made sure that Charlie had some extensive therapy sessions in place. Tobias is waiting for her at the foot of the steps, beneath the blossom trees, and she is surprised to see he has a cigarette in hand.

“You smoke?” she raises an eyebrow at him as she approaches. “I thought you’d know better, Tobias.”

He takes a drag.

“Vices, Valentine,” he quips. “We all have them.”

Elle vaguely remembers Ethan had once said the same thing about butter.

“Carcinogens, though. Really?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I’m dirty, what can I say?”

He dutifully puts out the cigarette, as Elle gives him a reproachful look, and turns to her.

“You were good in there, with him,” says Tobias.

“Thanks…so were you.”

“We make a good team,” he smiles, and his expression softens a little. “That was kinda heavy though. You bearing up ok?” he asks.

Elle nods.

“I’m fine. I just hope Charlie will be ok, I really want to make sure he starts therapy as soon as possible.  I know how much of a difference it made for me, after the attack.”

She trails off, and Tobias seems to sense the darkness clouding over her eyes. The mild September breeze sifts through the blossom trees above them with a gentle sigh.

“I don’t think I ever actually said this to you,” says Elle quietly, “but thank you. For helping to save me and Raf, that day.”

“No thanks needed,” he responds. “I wanted to do everything I could to help.”

He pauses only briefly before continuing.

“You know, out of everything that happened that day, all the work we did in the lab trying to find an antidote…the one thing I remember most is how Ethan was in that room. In all the years I’ve known him, I’ve never seen him like that before. About anyone, or anything.”

A sudden chill trickles down her neck, goosebumps erupt on her forearms; a million tiny foothills.

Since their conversation in the car after Danny and Bobby’s funeral, Ethan had never really spoken in depth about his own feelings during the attack. Sometimes, in early hours when they laid in bed together, with the rain hammering against his window, she would mention it.

And every time, she would see his eyes darken with so many unsaid words. He would fix his gaze desperately on her like she was evaporating steam, set to vanish from existence in a matter of moments. His hold on her waist would tighten, fingertips tracing her soft skin as if to remind himself she wasn’t a ghost.

There had been whispers in his bed in the stillness of the night, when they were both half asleep. He had uttered sleepy confessions and declarations to her; some so heartfelt and moving, she still questioned whether they were real or if she had dreamt them.

More often straight after the attack, but still now sometimes, she would wake in his arms to find him already looking at her, his eyes filled with wonder, pain, and something else that she was starting to place.

‘Why are you awake?’ she would gently murmur.

‘I couldn’t sleep. I-had a nightmare.’

She would press herself closer to his chest, feel his strong arms encircling her as he pressed a kiss to her forehead.

��I’m here, Ethan.’

‘I know. I’m…so glad you are.’

She is jolted to the present with Tobias’ voice.

“Even if he didn’t show it this morning…Ethan’s got it bad for you, you know.”

Elle cranes her neck to look up at him- at the man who shares so much history with Ethan. He’s almost as tall as her lover, but slightly less built, shoulders not quite as broad. Alike in many ways, but different in so many others.

“Why are you here, Tobias?” she asks, without breaking eye contact. “You had it all at Mass Kenmore. You’re an excellent diagnostician, you could have gone anywhere. Why, of all people, would you want to come and work for Ethan, someone you have such a complicated past with?”

Tobias’ hazel eyes, a contrast to Ethan’s azure blue’s, look into hers deeply. She knows that there’s something hiding beneath their golden depths; either earnestness, an ulterior motive, or perhaps something more complicated- a mixture of both.

He takes a step towards her, raising his hand towards her face. Her breath hitches, then climaxes in a soft exhale, when he simply removes a lone blossom petal that has settled on the lapel of her white coat. She wonders what exactly she had been expecting him to do.

Tobias twists his tongue between his teeth, a half-smile playing on his lips. Once again, his eyes roam over her from head to toe. This close, Elle can smell his cologne. It’s good; notes of leather and pine and exotism drift to her olfactory nerve. It’s a contrast to her favourite aftershave of Ethan’s, which smelled like bergamot, cedar, and home.

Tobias drops the petal to the floor, his eyes never leaving hers.

“I’m here Elle,” he murmurs, “because I want to push boundaries.”

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

Ethan leans against his desk, fingertips drumming impatiently. His meeting had been finished for a while now, but he was still waiting for Elle and Tobias to return.

His old rival’s keenness to go on an outreach call with Elle had stirred something within him. Something in his head had switched on. A distant alarm bell that had been silent for some time, had started to ring.

Lost in thought, he mulls over the events of the morning.

He’d done it again.

He, and Harper, had spoken over Elle when she was trying to talk about the patient. Not only that, he recognises now, but before Tobias had entered the room, the two of them had been reminiscing about something that didn’t involve Elle in the slightest.

He doesn’t know why he keeps slipping up. He harbours no romantic feelings for Harper whatsoever, but he’s been enjoying the chance to work more closely with her, the friendly conversations, to share stories and experiences.

But they haven’t just been work related, he thinks. Did I really need to bring up the flamenco lessons? Or Gaston’s? He recalls the look on her face when he’d told Elle he planned to take her there because of its intimacy, immediately after discussing it with Harper. Before Elle’s forced smile and her gracious reply of “I’d like that,” he’d always thought he had caught a flicker of dismay, of hurt, on her features.

Now he’s certain it was more than a flicker.

I don’t deserve her, he thought.

With a swoosh, the doors of the diagnostics office open. He sees the familiar head of immaculately coiffed blonde locks, and as his eyes travel down to Elle’s beautiful face, his heart soars, and he can’t help but break into a wide smile.

“Elle!” he says happily, pushing himself up of the desk.

I missed you, he foolishly finds himself wanting to say, despite the fact that like most days at work, it’s only been a few hours since he’s seen her. But as his eyes travel to Tobias following her in, he keeps the admission to himself.

“We have an answer,” says Elle triumphantly. “We’ve listed Jake for an ICD insertion tomorrow morning.”

“It was CPVT?” Ethan asks.

“Yep,” says Tobias. “Elle’s hunch was right. Turns out it was an argument with his boyfriend that brought on the cardiac arrest. We ran a test for CPVT as soon as we got back, while you were still in the meeting, and it’s positive.”

Elle smiles brightly.

“Jake’s going to be okay.”

Ethan beams. He’s exceptionally proud of her.

“Excellent work Elle,” he leans forward to squeeze her arm, as bold a gesture as he dares while they have company. “And thanks Tobias, for helping out.”

“The pleasure’s all mine,” says Tobias. He looks pointedly at Elle, then adds, “believe me.”

An unpleasant sensation coils in the pit of Ethan’s stomach. He tries to push it down.

As Tobias crosses the room to take a phone call, he steps closer to Elle, lowering his voice.

“Listen Elle, about earlier. I’m sorry,” he says sincerely, tentatively taking her hand in his own. He caresses her tiny fingers with his thumb. “It’s unacceptable for me to talk over you in meetings, and I…know that this isn’t the first time it’s happened, and that there are, uh, other things. I’m sorry if my actions have ever made you feel excluded.”

Elle’s bright green eyes look into his thoughtfully, though she says nothing; silently willing him to continue.

“I’d like to make it up to you. I think a date night between us is long overdue. Can I take you for dinner tonight?” he asks. A flash of hope, along with the tinge of dismay he remembers from before, travels across her face. “Not Gaston’s,” he adds quickly. “I want to find somewhere new with you. For us.”

Her face floods with warmth, eyes gazing into his searchingly. He desperately scans her beautiful face, seeking some inkling of her true feelings; the ones he knows she’s bottling up.

“You’re right, it is long overdue,” she says finally, her gaze steady. “And I’d really like that, to find somewhere new to go to dinner with you. But I can’t do tonight.”

His heart sinks a little, and as if sensing this, like she always seems to, she squeezes his hand reassuringly.

“I’m out for drinks with Si, Aurora and Jackie tonight. But we’ll go soon.”

She offers him a soft smile, which he returns.

It doesn’t quite quell the slight but unmistakable feeling of anxiety in his stomach. It’s guilt, it’s the gnawing thought that he will never be good enough for her, the idea that he’s taken her for granted.

Worst of all, there is the completely irrational, but terrible notion that he could lose her.

And somehow, the thought that he could lose her in living rather than in death, as he had once feared, is almost more terrible.

She gently lets go of his hand. On the other side of the room, Tobias hangs up the phone.

“I’m going to go and speak to Jake’s parents,” says Elle, slipping off and readjusting her white coat.

Ethan’s eyes travel over her form-fitting pencil skirt, clinging to her delicate body in all the right places.

He doesn’t miss the way Tobias’ do the same. Then, as if knowing he’s being watched, he looks up at Ethan. His eyes narrow, and the corners of his lips twitch.

Ethan wants nothing more than to sock him in the jaw.

“We’ll check in later, once Harper’s finished surgery?” she asks, breaking the two men out of their reverie.

Ethan nods, and Elle bids them goodbye. The click of her heels on the linoleum echoes into the tense silence. Then, he can’t hold it in any longer.

“Could you be,” Ethan begins through gritted teeth, “a little more fucking subtle, Carrick?”

Tobias chuckles.

“I can’t help it, Ethan, and clearly neither can you. A woman like that, body like that…we’re just as powerless as any other red-blooded male.”

Ethan curls his fists in the pockets of his coat.

“Don’t talk about Elle like that. I won’t have you disrespecting her in that way,” he spits, taking a step towards him.

“You want to talk about disrespecting her?” counters Tobias, unflinching. “Because I think taking a stroll down memory lane with your ex, every five minutes, is pretty disrespectful to the woman you’re currently fucking.”

Ethan is stunned. Had she told Tobias that it had happened before? Did she tell him they were seeing eachother, or had Tobias clocked it himself? What exactly had they talked about while they were away?

“Elle is- she’s off limits,” he snaps, the only response his seething mind is able to come up with.

Tobias smiles, satisfied at seeing the other man riled up. Then, infuriatingly, he turns away.

“Who decided that, Ethan?” he says quietly over his shoulder “Her or you?”

And with that, Tobias turns and leaves.

*******

Author’s Note: Thanks for reading this far! I wanted to explore the dynamic between Elle and Tobias, and the way I wrote him in this fic reflects my own thoughts about him; I think he’s a good guy, as demonstrated by him helping to save her life and his thoughtfulness, but I’m definitely suspicious of his ulterior motives and his past actions. I also wanted the sexual tension between Ethan, Elle and Tobias, and was hoping that PB would make Tobias call out Ethan shutting her out of meetings. They didn’t deliver so I did it myself lol Also wanted Ethan to start feeling insecure about the way he’s been treating Elle since his behaviour has been trash thanks to the OOC writing, but I still love him

[skiyoosmi]

— caramel frappucino | 23

marga’s notes. and lemme welcome you all to (hopefully) the final arc of this smau;;; i feel like i had to write this short fic so that you can all see the start of the development of their love story so please pardon me, the usual texts will be back soon!!

♪ CHAPTER PLAYLIST ♪

winter bear by v // promise covered by sierra eagleson  

previous | masterlist | next

 “You’ve been literally staring at me the moment I entered the room and that was two hours ago. Can you stop it?” you hissed at the black-haired lad beside you, eyes still on your oblivious professor who was busy writing his life away on the whiteboard in front. Sakusa merely shrugged, making you huff at his indifference. You will never understand this boy no matter how hard you try to, honestly.

“You look like a dead person who came back alive just to go to class,” he replied as he finally decided he had enough of looking at your exhausted wellbeing and proceeded to jutting down notes on his limelight notebook.

“Gee, thanks for calling me a zombie, you mutt,” you grumbled, following his actions when your professor finally began his tedious discussion.

Kuroo’s words echoed in his mind as he recalled the moment they stumbled upon the hallway before going to their own classes, “she called me last night, hiccupping and sniffling because the boy she loved from kindergarten to high school… you know Iwaizumi? Yeah… apparently they loved each other before… by the way, yeah, she was in love with her best friend…. but don’t worry now, she got over him already so it’s too late for him… such a shame honestly… plus you’re here now so try to make her happy today, yeah?”

He has never been the type to care about other people’s backstories; he found them too complicated to understand or for most of the times, he just didn’t have the interest to do so. But for some reason, stumbling upon you in that café when you spilled your favorite drink on him changed a lot of things in him… not that he’ll let you know that, of course.

Seeing you trudge into the classroom with your shoulders slumped, he felt a hard tug in his heart as if it was screaming at him to see if you were alright. As soon as you plopped down your seat beside him, he noticed the bags under your already-swollen eyes that seemed darker than usual.

The eyes that usually sparkles and shines whenever you look at him is absent, melancholy and guilt swimming in them instead. Your cheery morning greeting replaced with a rather forced smile. Since when did he become so observant of you? He didn’t know himself.

“You know… if you loved him that much, you shouldn’t have rejected him, right?” he spoke up after the bell rang, signaling that it was the end of your class. Other students lined up by the doorway, ushering others to speed up since your next class is not until the afternoon – one of the main reasons you loved Mondays, unlike high school students.

You gaped at him, wondering how in the world did he find out, at least not until your cousin’s mischievous and very much annoying face popped up your mind, mocking you as he cackled. Damn you, Tetsurou.

“I… I don’t love him that way anymore,” you quietly replied, shaking your head as you both gathered your things before heading towards the now-empty doorway. He scoffed quietly at your pathetic attempt of a response; did she not try looking at the mirror before going to school?

“Then why do you look like that?”

For yet another unknown reason, he found himself feeling annoyed and hurt as he scanned your face. Why would you look so depressed if you didn’t love that Iwaizumi anymore? He doesn’t understand one bit. Before you could reply though, the face of Oikawa Tooru appeared in front of you both, chocolate eyes sparkling at the sight of you.

“[Y/N]-chan, my lovely baby! There you are, we’ve been looking all over for you,” he told you loudly, excitement very much evident in his voice as he did so while you only winced. As if on cue, your other best friend appeared behind him, hands deep in his pocket… just like yesterday as he gave you a tightlipped smile. Sakusa felt you stiffen beside him and soon, the air was filled with awkwardness that even Oikawa felt it.

“Now, now. What’s with this unfamiliarity I feel in the air? Let’s eat together,” the ex-captain of Seijoh exclaimed as he began pulling you with your hand. You opened your mouth to say something but no words came out, not finding it in your heart to break Tooru’s enthusiasm. Much to your relief though, Sakusa beat you into it, stopping the brunet from pulling you further.

“She’s eating with me… starting today and the following days,” he declared, this time pulling you in the other direction while the duo stood still. Iwaizumi was the first to snap out of his thoughts, smiling genuinely as he watched the two of you bicker until your figures become dots in his vision. I’m glad you’re doing what I asked of you, [Y/N].

“HAH?! Is… is he stealing my baby from me?! How dare he?!” Oikawa screamed in disbelief, hands going in different directions while at the same time, gathering the attention of the other students who just looked at him weirdly. Hajime just sighed and began to walk, leaving the brunet in the middle of the hallway.

“Iwa-chan, not you too! Don’t leave!”

“Stop! Wait! You giant with long legs, stop!” you panted, glaring at Sakusa who finally decided it would be nice to stop walking. You grumbled incoherent words before pointing at him.

“You! How dare you decide who I get to eat with. I will go with people I like to eat with!” you exclaimed, huffing and crossing your arms while he stared at you with slight amusement. Well, at least you think so since you couldn’t really see anything aside from his eyes that were not covered by the face mask he regularly wears.

“Don’t you like me though?”

You blinked a few times at him, trying to recall if you heard him correctly. With an eyebrow raised, he lightly poked you on your cheek with a finger, pulling you back from your thoughts. Soon, your face became red as you tried to stutter out a reply but to no avail, you couldn’t stop he fast beating of your heart that almost feels like it’s about to burst out of your chest. What? What the hell?!

“W-wha… What are you saying, baka?!” you shrieked when he was about three feet away from you. You could’ve sworn you saw him smirk when he pulled down his face mask and shrug as you began running after him.

[artemis-fowl-angst]

Part two of the fic I posted recently

(Anyone have name suggestions?)

TW: Ed mention, sleep deprivation, obsession, paranoid thoughts, this is an Atlantis complex fic

—————————————————-

Chapter 2:

Wednesday, 1:46 AM, a cafe about .5 KM from St. Bartlebys school for young boys.

Nearly a month had passed since that conversation with Dr Po and the two had since met two more times, once to discuss the texture issues that Artemis had mentioned, a meeting Artemis had managed to weasel his way out of by setting fireworks up on the roof and setting them off 35 minutes before the session was to start, and then framing a kid who had made some less than kind comments about Artemis’s sexuality. Killing two birds with one stone.

The other meeting was to discuss unrelated events involving a murder of crows being set loose in the gymnasium.

Artemis was sitting alone at a table in a small cafe’ that was, for some inexplicable reason, still open at this hour. He was quite busy ignoring the rational part of him that was insisting that he go back to the dorms and sleep for the first time in two days.

This was always the most tedious part of an invention, sorting all the calculations and running digital tests before making a prototype. He had to do it all manually because numbers like these would crash any sorting algorithm, and Artemis hadn’t gotten around to creating his own yet. So here he was, doing 6th algebra to save the world.

Time passed, he wasn’t sure how long, over an hour, maybe two

4x

+

2=2(x+6)

…

5

Five, it’s a good number, it’s solid and it’s predictable

5 10 15

An easy pattern, it’s safe

“Artemis Fowl?”

He looked up, shaken from his thoughts, coffee refill.

“So… not to intrude, but don’t you think that 10 cups of coffee is enough for one night”

Artemis nearly snapped back at the barista but caught himself. She didn’t deserve it, she was trying to do her job and help him, gods why are you always suck a dick to everyone? They don’t deserve it. You always drive everyone away what is wrong with you? It’s your fault, your fault, your-

“Yes I suppose you’re right”

She looked relieved, all the cafes Artemis frequented knew of the vampiric kid who would come in, order an obscene amount of coffee, and tip £100. But if you pressed the wrong button you would have your ego destroyed.

“Goodnight” he picked up the last coffee and his laptop and stood. Leaving behind nothing but a warm seat and an overzealous tip.

10 cups of coffee, 5+5 two fives, ten. five, a reliable number, a steady number, a good number. Maybe with enough time and patience, he could figure out a way to make all numbers a multiple of five...that… makes absolutely no sense, what? Artemis pondered as he walked under the streetlamps on his way back to Dublin.

He felt like his sanity was slipping, eh, probably just the sleep deprivation. Despite the ration line of thought, however, something still felt off. He checked his phone, 2:01 AM. it’s not safe to be walking outside in Dublin at this hour, especially without Butler. Someone could be following him, someone could mug him, or kidnap him, one of his enemies could send someone to assassinate him. Oh gods why did he make too many enemies that was so stupid, now they’re all gonna kill him because they all hate him, it’s his fault they hate you it’s your fault your faultyou r f au l t yourfalut yourvfalutht y o u r f a u l t.

That’s irrational, you’re panicking, calm down, you know what to do. Breathe, in and out and in and out. That’s it, good job.

He took a deep breath, attempting to assuage the feeling, as he entered the dormitory doors.

“Why are you still awake? It’s 2 AM.” the voice of someone he really didn’t want to talk to right now.

“I could ask the same of you Principal Jones sir” Artemis replied, tongue practically dripping with sarcasm. He clearly had a retort, but it died in his throat as he got a look at the boy.

“Are you okay?”

“I beg your pardon.” he responded, putting emphasis on each word and phrasing it less like a question, than a chance to change the sentence. That second chance was not taken.

“You look… sick” he hesitated before speaking the last word, as if searching for a more polite way to phrase it, before giving up.

“Name a time I haven’t.”

“No, I’ve been teaching for 16 years, and I know when somethings wrong”

16, that’s four times four. Four fours, bad, bad luck, death, no-

“Yes well you dont know me, so maybe you should reevaluate your position on the matter.”

“Still, when was the last time you ate? Or slept?”

Artemis rolled his eyes. “I just got back from a cafe, and i was planning on going to sleep before you interrupted. On that note, what are you doing in the commons so late?”

The man just shrugged dismissively, Artemis decided to drop the topic, afterall the idea of that plush blanket on his bed was far too tempting to pass up.

He slipped into room 93, changed into pyjamas, and hit the covers. After all those days of work, of the ice cube project consuming all of his energy, he allowed the sleep deprivation, mental and physical exhaustion to overtake him.

@avid-author-activist @tell-the-stars-hello @artemisfowl-chaos @four-makes-my-bottom-sore @pokegeek151 @xxfanenbyanonymousxx

[love-amihan]

| ʜᴏᴍᴇ | ᴊᴊᴋ | ᴀᴏᴛ | ʜǫ | ꜰɪʟᴏ | ᴛᴀɢʟɪsᴛs | ᴍɪᴍɪ |

PERSEVERANCE // OIKAWA TORU

word count: 2.0k+

warning: slight angst, reader is blaming themself due to failure of past relationship, might have spelling and grammar errors

song inspo: next to me by imagine dragons

amihan’s note: temporary banner bcs haven't got the chance to edit oikawa's. ahhh, i love this fic too, pardon my horrible transitions. here's your request bb @okakamaki happy reading!

!! small manga spoiler

best friend!toru x gn!reader (aoba johsai’s vbc manager)

“what comes to your mind when you hear ‘oikawa toru’?” the interviewer smiles brightly, holding the mic in front of you for your voice to be heard loud and clear.

the question makes you stop and think about it carefully. you look at the interviewer who’s standing out of frame, “oikawa toru?” you repeat after them, they nod at your words.

“ah him, oikawa toru... is a patient man,” you look at their eyes before looking around. “also a reliable person who puts everyone before himself,” the interviewer hums, letting you continue.

“most importantly, oikawa toru perfectly embodies egalitarian,” the interviewer retracts the mic to ask, “would you care to elaborate us on that, mx?”

you nod and lean down to say, “he believes in everyone,” your eyes staying in contact with the camera lens.

“thank you, mx,” the interviewer bows to you as you do the same, bidding goodbye with a smile before going back to your table.

────────────────────────────

oikawa toru is known by all, he has a lot of girls swooning over him, heck some male players have at least a small crush on him.

who wouldn’t? he’s perfect, positive energy is surrounding him everyday. he’s there to lift up everybody’s spirits, even yours.

“y/n-chan!” toru’s cheerful voice echoes in the gym. you turn and give toru a disappointed look. hajime, who was talking to you not long ago, follows suit, “the hell are you doing here, shittykawa?”

toru huffs, “to play volleyball of course,” approaching the two of you, he opens up his arms about to give you a hug.

you put a hand out, “no, it hasn’t been a day since you had your injury.” the captain, being the stubborn guy he is, “i’m all good to go.”

hajime grumbles, “i’ll kick him out,” you nod at his words, “please do.” toru looks at the two of you with his mouth hanging open, “don’t talk like i’m not he- hey iwa-chan! nooooo!” toru’s whines fade as he’s dragged outside by the wing spiker.

after taking care of toru, hajime looks at you with concern in his eyes, “are you sure you’re gonna be alright?” you snicker at him, “can’t believe i’m saying this but toru’s right, are you my mother?” you say in a teasing manner.

but instead of facing his wrath, the boy just sighs, “how many months has it been since you’ve last seen him?” you shrug, “don’t know and don’t care, haji” you say while avoiding eye-contact.

────────────────────────────

after the practice match ends, “y/n...san,” wakatoshi calls after you. you stop from speed-walking, back still facing him. shiratorizawa's ace stares at your back, mind running on what to say next.

he slowly approach you, hand reaching out. taking a hold of your wrist, he spins you around and engulfs you in a hug. tears start running down your face, your head pressed firmly against his chest.

meanwhile, toru, who did not listen and stayed even with your and hajime's protest, his smile falters watching the scene unfold.

issei blocks the view and turns him around, ushering him back inside the gym. “come on, i’m sure that’s nothing” the middle blocker tries to assure him.

“it’s not your fault,” wakatoshi mumbles, pulling away as he wipes your tears. you close your eyes, nodding along his words, “you’ll find someone better, i'm sure of it.” he's not one to cry but seeing him with red eyes and hear his sniffles makes your heart clench.

“but i want you,” you whisper, holding the hand on your face, looking up to him. wakatoshi shakes his head, “you know we can’t," his tone firm and stern.

he leans down, forehead touching with yours, both your eyes fluttering close, “it’s not your fault, okay?” wakatoshi reminds you once again, as if to engrave it in your mind.

“no, it is” you say while shaking your head, he holds your face still, with a stern voice he says, “none of this is your fault, y/n.”

slowly, he lets go of your face, whispering, “i’m letting you go. you’re free, y/n.”

your tears continue to stream down, taking some deep breaths trying your best to calm down. wakatoshi takes a few steps back, the two of you looking deeply into each other’s eyes.

────────────────────────────

your lips tremble at his words. he bows down to you, taking a moment before turning on his heel. your hand reaches out for him as his frame slowly disappears from your sight.

months had passed yet you can’t seem to forget wakatoshi, the closure is still fresh on your mind, replaying like it just happened yesterday.

you sit down on the floor, back leaning on the wall. good thing, there’s nothing much going on for today.

you hear some shuffling next to you, “toru, i said no. i’m not ready,” you say, not opening your eyes to check on the person, “ouch, you’re brutal. i’m surprised oikawa hasn’t given up yet,” takahiro states while wiping his sweat.

you sigh, looking at the boy beside you, repeating your words, “i’m not ready.” he hums, downing the rest of his water.

“you won’t get rid of him easily though,” he smiles, bringing a hand to ruffle your hair, “it’ll get better soon.”

────────────────────────────

toru’s smile gets wider seeing the gift you have for him, “i’m sorry, it’s not that much valuable,” you say as he takes out the hand-made bracelet, “what do you mean? i love it!” his hand fumbling, thrilled to wear the gift.

“you love anything that comes from y/n,” issei says, snickering at their captain. “but i do love it,” toru replies, “i’m glad,” you smile at him, his heart skipping a beat. “toru..?” you call out, the boy frozen in place, “this dork..” hajime mutters.

────────────────────────────

you hug your knees closer to your chest, sobs getting uncontrollable. destiny must have its ways with you two because like always, toru finds you in your vulnerable state. “y/n,” he mutters, approaching your fragile frame.

you look up to him, “i’m no good toru, it was all my fault,” you mumble against your knees, eyes red and puffy from crying. toru cradles you and pulls you close to him, his presence making you feel at home and secure.

“why would you even want me?” you sniff and wipe your tears harshly with the back of your hand, “you have everyone at your will yet…” you sob, “yet you’re here.” you can see the pain in his smile, “because the world seems to stop if i’m not with you.”

────────────────────────────

toru smiles at the camera, waving at it before looking back at the interviewer, “before leaving the country, as one of the well-known monster generation, do you have something to say?” the boy nods, looking at the camera.

“i’ll get everything i want and will be the one standing at the top with a big smile on my face,” confidence overflowing in his words.

hajime’s face scrunches up from their ex-captain’s words, they've graduated college and he’s still as ambitious as ever.

takahiro peeks from behind hajime and points at toru’s hand as he waves goodbye to the camera, “he still has that?” their eyes fleeting down on toru’s hand.

your eyes widen while watching toru’s last interview before going abroad, “toru…”

────────────────────────────

you groan, your phone’s been ringing for a while now, peeking at the clock, the red bold ‘2:00 am’ staring back at you.

not caring about the caller, you press the green button and mumble, “hello?” eyes fluttering close.

toru gasps and mutters apologies after apologies, “y/n-chan, i’m sorry i didn’t mean to call you,” he exclaims. you hum, “uh huh,” your mind on auto-pilot, his words not registering to you.

the boy on the other side of the phone smiles fondly, “do you find me attractive?” you nod, “yes,” you mutter.

he chuckles, “alright, i’m hanging u-” his farewell getting cut off by his own thought, ‘should i?’ he ponders, at least he can hear those sweet words even if you don’t mean it.

he gnaws on his bottom lip before uttering, “will you be my other half?” you mumble incoherent words while toru presses the phone against his ear more to hear you better, “i would love to,” his eyes widen, cheeks beginning to shade red.

“damn it, it's not fair how you still make me fluster even if you’re not aware,” he mutters behind his hand.

“have a nice sleep, love. sorry for the disturbing,” he ends the call with a sigh, his teammates looking at him weirdly, he sheepishly smiles and turns his back on them.

────────────────────────────

hajime groans, his expression screaming displeasure. “come on haji, he’s not that much late,” you say while poking his side, “ah, y’all missed me too much,” toru’s voice makes four heads snap in his direction.

it seems like nothing has changed, the group is still buzzing with never ending stories, it’s like no one aged at all. you smile to yourself looking around the table, “you okay?” you turn to toru and nod, especially him.

as toru strikes a conversation with you, takahiro opens up a topic that has not been brought up ever since high school, “you two are still not together?” toru shakes his head, holding his chest and fakes a hurt expression, “why must you break my heart like this, y/n.”

glancing at hajime, he nods to you while gesturing at toru, issei raises a brow to this, “wait… no way,” he mutters while takahiro looks at him, “what?” he whispers to him, you take toru’s hand where he wears the bracelet on.

his dramatic script coming to a stop, he looks at you, confused by the actions. “y/n-” you turn the bracelet around, a different color from how he usually wears it.

“you know i’ve always wondered why it’s a different color from each side,” he looks into your eyes, oblivious to what’s happening.

“that means yes, toru” you smile up to him, his eyes widening, “yes..?” he echoes you. “finally,” hajime mumbles with a big smile, you nod to his words, his eyes welling up in tears. “please tell me this isn’t a dream nor a prank,”

you shake your head and open your arms for him, he lets out a breath and tackles you in a hug. you chuckle at his actions while petting his hair, “thank you for taking a chance on me,” you mumble against the crook of his neck.

────────────────────────────

“congratulations on your win!” the same interviewer exclaims, a big smile on their face as toru clasps his hands together bowing in gratitude, sweat dripping down his pretty face.

“i have one question for you,” toru turns to the side leaning forward to hear the interviewer better, “ah yes, ask away” a charming smile plastered on his face, the same smile that made people all over the world swoon.

“what comes to your mind when you hear ‘oikawa y/n’?” the same question as yours, he continuously nods while taking a deep breath looking around as he thinks of the word.

he looks back at the interviewer, leaning closer to the mic. he stares at the lens, “oikawa y/n is my world.”

the interviewer smiles fondly, the action exactly like yours. “do you want to know what they thought of you?” toru looks back at the interviewer and wipes the sweat from his forehead. “but don’t tell them you told me,” he says while holding his index finger in front of his lips.

the interviewer chuckles and recites your exact words, “oikawa toru is a patient, reliable, and an egalitarian person,” the last word perking his interest, “egalitarian?” he repeats the word, looking at them.

they nod, “it means you believe in everyone.” toru’s eyes immediately softened, his fatigue fading away like magic, “did they really?” the interviewer eagerly nods, somehow feeling like a real-life cupid.

toru looks back at the camera smiling and shows the bracelet, kissing it together with the ring on his finger, “i’ll keep that in mind, mx oikawa,” he says while pointing at the lens.

copyright © 2021 by love-amihan all rights reserved. do not repost in other platforms. reblogs are welcome and highly appreciated! <33

taglist: @foxxtrot-116 @lumpiang-toge @chibishae34 @kirakirasaku @tohman @gay-bitch23 @crybabyjabby

[dingdongitsbees]

Hi, i was thinking of Attack on castes and i really like the idea of janitor levi, wannabe Hitch and so, would you write a one history teacher Erwin x lawyer reader, where she is friend to Frieda who is a teacher in the school asked her to pick Historia up for her and that's when Erwin sees her for the first time and immediately fell for her.... Hope you can accept it

offer up your heart

↪ WC: 3.3k ↪ Ao3 Link ↪ Genre: fluff, light-hearted, soft

Attack on Castes for those who haven’t read it! (it’s the reason some characters may seem oc)

Just send an ask to be added to the Erwin taglist!

Attack on Titan Masterlist  | Main Masterlist

You were already late and by god did you not want to be there. You were glad to leave high school behind you when you graduated, promising yourself to never set foot in one ever again. Gossip, bullies, shitty teachers, stupid drama and a mind crushing amount of work. Sure, good things too, but nothing that couldn’t be found in the adult world.

In the adult world you got adventures. You got to fight to bring people the justice they deserved, their livelihood in your hands. They offered up their hearts begging you to save them. It gave you purpose. Whether or not they shed tears of grief or joy would be for you to decide. Nothing quite came close.

Or that’s how you would have felt if your current client wasn’t being such an annoying little shit. He had lied to your face with three wildly conflicting stories about what happened, and then when he got cross-examined by the prosecutor, he decided to go completely off script and implicate himself even further for something he didn’t even do.

The evidence against him were fables and rumours at best but he had begun to make it look plausible through his shifty character. You would get the “not guilty” verdict at the end of the trial, but you were going to have ripped out most of your hair by then.

When you were busy screaming in your hands during the intermission, your friend Frieda rang you and asked you to pick up her younger sister from school because their bastard of a father surely wasn’t going to. You nearly yelled at her then.

Frieda had done favour after favour for you in the past years with your insanely busy and gruelling schedule, so refusing the one time she asked for something in return would put you up with the likes of your client. You agreed, for some reason not asking what time, and then promptly forgot about it.

So there you were, heels clicking rapidly against the school’s hallway, the oranges hues of the sunset streaming through windows and the entrance. You really should have asked for Historia’s number, though you weren’t sure if the girl would bother to reply.

Historia was the epitome of “I think I will cause problems on purpose” simply because she’s bored. To be fair, you couldn’t really blame her, you had no such positive attitude towards school either, but with her being at the top of the pecking order she had the ability to make those problems quite substantial. Freida’s hair was probably going to go grey soon.

You thanked any god that would listen that she had cheerleading practice or you might have genuinely cried. The amount of stress that blonde girl was putting you through simply because she refused to take the bus home was nearly unparalleled.

You looked around the school, each corridor breaking off into another. The same basic lockers and same ceiling lights, same everything. You were fucking lost.

You jogged down some corridors hoping to find someone, turning your head frantically, letting you slam full force into something hard, tall and…blond?

 .

Erwin may love being a teacher but my lord did it get tedious sometimes. He loved the younger ones, brimming with hopes, dreams and potential. Though nearly all of them seemed to be misusing it, putting it on the backburner or simply didn’t care. Kids were good but they certainly could be better. Of course, there’d be the standout kids like Armin and Marco who took their schooling seriously and asked questions that allowed him to gush about things that weren’t just on the set curriculum. But what he would give so all of them were that engaged…

He just wanted them to offer their hearts to him, to trust him and put faith in the information he was giving forward. History is something, that he believed at least, was unparalleled in its importance. You learn from the mistakes done by the generations before you, using the knowledge to guide the current decisions needed to be made. On top of that it just let you understand the world around you; how it came to be and your place within it. History was unparalleled in its importance.

That’s why he was still at the school, marking very obviously last-minute written essays, so he could give them back with thorough annotations and advice that he was sure most of them wouldn’t even glance at.

He had popped off to the teacher’s lounge to get a cup of tea, and was making his way back, eyes glued to the swaying liquid as not to spill it, when a smaller figure came barrelling into him. He instinctually moved the tea away, not wanting the scalding water to hit this unfortunate stranger full in the face. Some of the brown liquid dripped to the floor, Levi would surely have his head for it later, but it was better than any burns.

When he was sure the tea was steady, he looked to the stranger on the ground.

He swore he saw a deity.

Erwin peered down at you in pure awe. Albeit being a bit dishevelled and frazzled, you were clearly a force to be reckoned with. Your pant suit was tailored to fit you perfectly, your heels matching your simple jewellery and watch, your hair which was now a little ruffled, was obviously put together with precision in the morning. You were immaculately put together.

And your face, your face. Everything was right where it needed to be in the exact size and proportion to everything else. It was like you had been perfectly carved for over a millennium by only the best sculptors available.

Your aura was something else. Even if he had found you in pyjamas, the power you would exude would be to the same effect. Something in the way your face shifted as thoughts flew across your mind, the way every bit of movement seemed controlled and purposeful. Erwin had read hundreds, maybe thousands of myths all around the world, and none of the gods in them had never been as ethereal as you.

You were the definition of a muse.

You on the other hand were trying to keep down your groans about your ankles as much as possible. Heels were a mistake enough to attempt to run in let alone fall in, god could this day get any…better? Oh no. He was hot.

You swallowed harshly as he looked down at you, tilting his head and eyes wide. You noticed the tea spilt in a little puddle behind him and felt a little guilty, but he seemed to pay it no mind, his piercing blue eyes only on you.

After a silent moment he offered his empty hand. You took it with a hasty thank you under your breath and gripped on. His hand was so warm, so steady, so comfortable to hold. The moment was over quicker than either of you wanted it to be.

You looked to the ground, smoothing down the ruffles in your clothes, some that existed and some that certainly didn’t, so you could reset yourself. You were not going to be flustered by the first man you saw outside of work though to be fair he would be a good reason to let that rule lay down. He was certainly a fine specimen.

You looked back up, coughing to clear your throat. His gaze was already glued to you, it hadn’t been torn off since the moment you bumped into him. His eyes didn’t even shift now you were staring into his. His mouth was slightly agape, his cheeks dusted pink, his eyebrows raised. You were getting nervous but wanted to know what was going on in that head of his.

“Uh, hi…” you started, leaning your head to the side, “Didn’t mean to bump into you there, sorry for spilling your tea.”

He blinked.

“You’re…” he trailed off, having caught himself before he said something stupid. He coughed into his fist, finally looking away, the student poster about splitting atoms on the classroom becoming suddenly riveting. “Sorry, could I help you in anyway?”

You scratched the back of your head with a small smile and Erwin short circuited. “Yeah actually, I’m meant to be picking up a friend’s sister, but I got lost.”

“What’s the student’s name? I may be able to direct you?”

“Historia Reiss.”

“Ah.”

“Ah indeed.”

It was no question that the girl would be infamous to teachers as well, the girl tended to make quite an impression. Hopefully she wouldn’t be rolling her eyes at you more than necessary when you finally found her.

“Miss Reiss is likely at the gym.” He pointed down a corridor, the one you had come from.

You opened your mouth and closed it again, you would probably get lost again but you couldn’t convince yourself that’s why you asked the next question. “Sorry, do you think you walk me there?”

A colourful array of curses flew through your mind as he stilled, a deer in the headlights. You were about to apologise for being a bother and go on your way when his face brightened to an almost blinding degree and his eyes crinkled with his accompanying smile.

“It would be my pleasure.”

The walk started in silence for a few moments as you both scrambled for something to talk about.

“So um,” you said, “What do you teach here? You are a teacher, right? Not just some random guy taking advantage of the tea?”

He was already panicking being in the vicinity of you, so he almost didn’t pick up your teasing tone. The fact you were making fun of him just made his heart hammer even harder.

“I can confirm I’m not some stranger, to this school at least.” His added smile made your heart skip a beat; you should sue him. “I teach history here, but I won’t burden you with the specifics.”

“Do.”

“Pardon?”

“Burden me with the specifics. The teaching path wasn’t for me, but I admire those who followed it,” you sent a smile of your own back, “Plus, you seem like the kind of guy to know your stuff. You look like a passionate teacher. I wish there were more of those when I went to school.”

He took a second to compose himself, you being very cruel to him right now. He’d known you for approximately two minutes, but you were making it increasingly difficult for him to not declare his inevitable love right then and there.

“Oh well um,” he stumbled over his words, trying to string a few sentences together that would be worthy of your time. His hands were already extended, ready to add a visual focus. “War is quite an obvious favourite to go to, but I’ve always been more interested in the things that went on behind the scenes, the life of soldiers and nurses who lost their lives, the lives of those who stayed behind, anyone trying to look for peaceful solutions. Those have always interested me more. And then going far past the world and civil wars of the past three centuries, going back to when England and France were nowhere near the superpowers they became, and of course focusing all around the world. Europe has honestly been pretty lacklustre with their stories compared to everywhere else.”

He looked back to you, half-expecting you to be twiddling your thumbs, but your sight hadn’t moved. Your eyes were wide and bright like the ones he had seen in Armin and Marco except with an added adult understanding and perspective. This was quite unfair on his heart.

He turned his head down a corridor, taking the opportunity to calm down his heated cheeks. Really quite unfair.

“So what do you do?” He tried his best to make the words come out as smooth as he hoped. You didn’t seem to take notice that they didn’t.

“I’m a lawyer, so definitely a different world from yours.” Your laugh was awe-inspiring, he wished it were his morning alarm. There was no way he could come to hate it.

“It suits you,” he noted. It made perfect sense, everything about you commanded attention, thinking about you controlling a court room was easy to picture.

You sputtered out a few sounds, not sure if they were sophisticated enough to be called words and looked down a corridor as you passed, trying to figure out what the angry looking janitor was thinking about instead of what your brain was. This man was having quite the effect on you, and it wasn’t even his looks! Rude!

“Thank you, assuming that’s a compliment.”

Erwin simply nodded, not wanting to let you be privy to his thought processes right then. He would never recover.

“What area do you work in if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Currently represent for murder and manslaughter cases, anything that usually ended up with a person dead or nearly dead.”

A different world from yours indeed.

“I imagine that’s quite intense.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “The paperwork numbs a lot of it, honestly most of my clients aren’t any different from students.”

“I’d hope not.”

“You’d be surprised. Some of those annoying kids in school tend to keep being annoying, annoying enough to land themselves as a suspect for a murder case.”

Now he couldn’t stop thinking about you intimidating a client into submission and to just listen to you and let you take the reins. He would like to see that. He may possibly want to be subjected to it if he was in the right mood. He towered over you, but he would fall to his knees in a second if you told him to as a joke. He hoped that was a wild exaggeration done by his brain, but he knew most things come from a semblance of truth.

You really were something else.

You couldn’t believe you were talking to someone like him. He seemed so self-assured and at one with the flow of life, not needing to seek more to find contentment. He clearly loved his job as much as you loved yours, both acknowledging the downsides but knew it was worth it in the end.

He seemed to be taking up more and more of your brain as he continued to talk, only adding to the list of positives, there hadn’t seemed to be any negatives yet. You were concerned that there didn’t seem to be any. From his looks to his personality to the way he held himself, it was honesty too good to be true. Right?

When he looked at you, your cheeks would burn, and you’d feel like you were in high school all over again. That was one of the things you had forgotten, although small, they had been of the good parts about school. Crushes had always been a little fun.

But the way his lips pulled into an easy smile should be illegal. You could deal with murderers, not this. If he was ever on the stand in court, you would be a stuttering mess when trying to cross-examine him.

As you two kept talking, you’d take turns left and right, seemingly with no real reason. You were pretty sure you had seen those maths posters before, but you didn’t mention it. You were plenty happy to let this be dragged out a little longer. You were flattered to say the least.

Erwin knew that he couldn’t “trick” you without you noticing eventually, he couldn’t do that to save his life, but he also knew that if you had caught on to his little game, you would mention it if you wanted him to stop. That fact made his chest flutter, though perhaps it probably was time to take you where you needed to go so you didn’t have your friend yelling at you. He wasn’t that cruel.

The sound of cheers reached your eyes, your shoulders deflated. Guess this is it then. The gym doors came into sight and you could spot the cheerleaders practicing their formations through the open door. They all looked exhausted, so it was probably near the end by now.

Against the wall you could see Historia’s “friends” watching and applauding whenever Historia so as much breathed. No wonder she got bored.

Your feet came to a stop, just outside the entrance and you looked up to him. He shifted slightly, unsure of what to say.

“Thank you um…” you said before your eyes few open, “Holy- I can’t believe I didn’t get your name?”

He chuckled, deep and clear. “Erwin, Erwin Smith.”

You gave your name to his and his lips mouthed around it silently, feeling the shape of all the letters. It made you a little flustered how earnestly he was printing it into his brain.

Neither of you moved, you didn’t want to go into the gym, and he didn’t want to leave. To put it simply, you were smitten with each other and it was embarrassingly obvious to everyone including the both of you.

The cheerleaders stopped, grabbing their bags and chugging down litre water bottles. Historia would snitch on you in an instant if she saw you hitting on her teacher, so it was time to depart.

“I guess this is it then…” You dragged out the sentence, still trying to stall.

“I suppose it is.”

“Thank you, I do mean it. I guess I’ll see you when I see you.”

He nodded, swallowing. “I guess I will. Have a pleasant evening, both you and Miss Reiss.”

You cracked a grin. “I can’t promise she will have one, but I know you definitely made my evening a good one. See you, Erwin.”

He smiled softly. “See you.”

He waved as he walked back through the corridors, he snuck a look over his shoulder when he had almost disappeared from view to find you still looking at him. Both of your faces burst into flames and you looked away from each other.

You took Historia home after she (mainly her friends) questioned why you were there instead of Frieda. Reiner, you believed his name was, offering to take her home as suavely as he could to be shot down so quickly by Historia you got whiplash. Her friends bid her dramatic goodbyes which she didn’t reply to, and you two made your way to the car.

“Were you talking to Mr Smith?” She didn’t even bother taking her eyes off of her phone to ask.

“I…I was. I got lots trying to find you so he helped me get to the gym.”

Her eyes narrowed suspiciously. “He didn’t need to take you all the way there though.”

“He was…he was just being nice.”

She hummed, no emotion behind to hide whether or not it was full of doubt. You really didn’t want her to tell Frieda or you’d never live it down.

“I finally get your ass out of the court room and you flirt with the first guy you see? Bold as ever.”

Though maybe, just maybe, it meant you could offer to pick up Historia more often. Maybe.

Everyone knew it wasn’t a maybe.

Erwin made his way back to his desk and he plopped himself down on his chair with a sigh. He leant his head back to look at the ceiling, projecting the past minutes on the white ceiling.

He didn’t even ask for your number.

He cursed at himself and dragged a hand over his face before getting back to his mountain of paperwork. Perhaps it was too bold to offer up his heart this quickly.

But you had said “see you”, and maybe it was too much for him to assume, but usually that meant a second meeting was anticipated. Maybe.

Everyone knew it wasn’t a maybe.

His tea had gone cold, but that was alright. He had met a goddess that evening after all.  

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.

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a/n: to the person who sent this in sorry it took so long! this was my first time writing for Erwin so i hope it’s alright! thank you for reading :)

Just send an ask to be added to the Erwin taglist!

Attack on Titan Masterlist  | Main Masterlist

Ko-fi

[lavenderbexlatte]

office hours

nct 1.8k words gender-neutral reader insert Reader x Qian Kun SUGGESTIVE/NSFW

🖤 warnings: vaguely inappropriate work relationships, kissing n’ touching, a boner 🖤

connect with me! / masterlist

“Any final questions before I let you go?”

You glance out over your small class of undergraduate seniors, anticipating the usual last-minute queries about due dates for next week or term definitions from your lecture today. These students are pretty bright, all things considered, and extremely attentive even though your senior seminar class meets in the morning.

That’s why the question that one of your back-row girls asks bowls you over as much as it does.

“Doc, do you think Professor Qian is cute?”

“Professor Qian? In the music department?” you ask, trying to hide how flustered you are.

“Yeah. D’you think he’s hot?” the girl repeats, grinning as she shoves her notebook into her bag without breaking eye contact with you.

“I guess…I’ve never really thought about it,” you say honestly.

The girl hums. “Well, I think he’s pretty hot.”

You get the feeling that she’s got an agenda, a feeling that’s only solidified when you see a few of your other students struggling to hold back laughter and smiling into their books. This is not gonna fly. They can’t make things weird for you, these little punks.

“Any other final questions?” you ask, “About the material?”

Heads shake around the room.

“Okay. Go home, and you better have your summaries to me by Sunday night!”

The students pick up their bags and their books and their Hydroflasks, and they leave the room in their ones and twos. As the last one bids you goodbye, and you’re left alone with your notes again, you sincerely hope to yourself that this isn’t going to become…a thing. These kids (young adults, actual grown adults, though you always think of them as kids) are far too old to be pulling shit like this on you.

Truly, deeply, sincerely, you hope that your 22-year-old student is not planning on trying to bag the music professor. That would be way too much trouble to have on your radar.

You sling the last of your class materials into your bag, and head for your usual stop after your ten o’clock class: the nearest dining hall. The school gives you free lunches on the days that you teach, so you might as well take advantage.

One trip through the buffet-style lines later, you’re balancing your full plate as you scan the room for an open table. The only one you can spot, however, is right next to a group of students, and holding court is none other than your senior girl with the apparent penchant for older men.

“-like a fucking idiot!” you hear one of the other students laughing, “He’s faculty. He’ll get fired.”

“Only if I snitch,” your student is saying.

“Or if literally anyone finds out,” says another one.

“No one would find out. No one would care,” your student dismisses. “Unless they’re in the music department, no one even knows who Qian is.”

So she’s really trying to fuck Qian Kun, huh?

It’s none of your business, really. But if this actually happens, and it even gets out that you knew and said nothing, it’ll be your ass on the line, too. And you’re really not one to fight important shit like Title IX. But the girls at the next table aren’t letting up, the conversation turning more and more raunchy and giving you a growing desire to plug yours ears with the shitty cafeteria napkins for some sense of deniability.

You stab at your meal, annoyed at the position that you’re in now, the liability you hold. Fuck.

You’re gonna have to go see this other professor, and head off this mess before it begins.

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

It’s rare that you’re on campus in any place but your own department, but you find yourself in the music building later that evening. You’d done a quick snoop on the faculty page and found Professor Qian’s office hours, and decided that sooner is better. If you can get to him before your (admittedly pretty and fit and 22) student does, then maybe you can spare everyone the headache.

His office is tucked at the end of the hall, farthest from the doors into the building. Lucky him, you think. Your own tiny office is smack in the middle, with essentially no privacy as other faculty and students come and go all day long. The door is shut when you reach it, but the light inside is on, so you knock.

“Just a sec!”

You oblige, waiting and praying to anyone who’ll listen that you’re not about to see a very familiar coed behind this door.

But no. When finally, the door opens, all you see is Professor Qian.

He’s not someone you know well, or someone you see often, and maybe that’s why you spend such an awkward amount of time just looking at him. Your first extremely stupid thought is that your student is kind of right: he’s cute. Thick brown hair, neat eyebrows, a jawline that makes him look like a goddamn marble sculpture…

“Can I help you?” he asks.

You nod, mentally kicking yourself for being weird. “Yeah, hi. Can I come in?”

Qian Kun gives you a brilliant gentle smile that reveals deep dimples, and gestures you into his (blessedly empty) office. You introduce yourself, give him your name and your department, and after a cordial handshake and pleasantries, stood in the middle of the tiny space, you decide to just come right out and say it.

“I have a student who I think you know,” you say, “She’s a senior and a double-major.”

He asks for her name, and you give it.

“Yeah, she’s in my senior seminar,” Professor Qian tells you.

“Mine, too,” you say, “And she’s gotten a little…TOO comfortable in class, lately.”

His grin turns lopsided. “Are we talking eating without permission, or something less tasteful?”

“She has made it clear that she’s interested in some things involving you. And her. And sex,” you tell him, fighting to keep your voice level and not actually die of embarrassment.  

Now the grin disappears entirely. “Seriously?”

You nod, “The exact words I heard were ‘he’s super stacked and I want to-‘”

“Whoa, okay!” Professor Qian cuts you off, “Okay, yeah. No.”

“Professor, I’m sure you know this, but I can’t let anything like that happen. We’ll both get canned,” you say.

“Kun.”

“Pardon me?”

“Call me Kun,” he says, “We’re colleagues, don’t need to dance around titles.”

“Kun,” you repeat, “Alright. But you – you’re not going to-”

“Christ, no,” Kun says emphatically, looking scandalized.

“Good. This has been the most thoroughly uncomfortable conversation of my whole career, but good,” you say.

“I would rather you bring it up to me than let things get worse,” he assures you.

“I’m sure it’s flattering to know that students are interested,” you joke. “Sort of wish I was that kind of attractive.”

Kun laughs. “Well, for what it’s worth, I’ve always thought you were attractive.”

Your brain comes screeching to a halt so quickly, you’re sure Kun can hear as it slams on the breaks and leaves you confounded and blinking at him. He has the presence to look a bit sheepish, having just turned this around on you.

“I’m sorry, was that too much?” he says, running a hand through his hair nervously.

“Unexpected but appreciated,” you reply. “And what do you mean, ‘always?’”

Kun shrugs, leaning back against his desk. “We share a lot of students. They talk about you, that makes you stand out, I see you around. Frequency bias.”

You crack a smile. “So, I come here to save you from one of my horny students, only to find you’re my secret admirer, is that it?”

“You could say that.”

He looks amused but not smug, satisfied but not cocky. The way he’s leaning his weight back on the sturdy wooden desk makes it really difficult not to notice his strong thighs in their fitted slacks, or his chest against the thin fabric of his shirt.

Maybe you were a little harsh, before, judging your student’s attraction to him. You can see the appeal. Completely.

You take a step closer to him, which isn’t difficult given the extremely limited space in the office. “You spend a lot of time thinking about me?”

“A completely normal amount of time,” he replies.

“What kinds of things do you think about?”

Kun reaches toward you suddenly, and then hesitates, leaving his hand hovering in the general direction of your hip. Fascinated, you cover his hand with yours and bring it down to meet your side, as he intended.

“How you always look so put-together but act so cavalier,” he says, finally. “How the kids say you curse in lecture and sit cross-legged on your desk and watch TikToks on your phone, but also grade harder than anyone in your department.”

You hadn’t known that anyone noticed those things. Not your students, and least of all some random colleague.

“So what do you wanna do about it?” you ask, genuinely curious.

“Well,” says Kun, taking hold of your hip more firmly, “Since you’re right here, and the door is shut, and you’re not one of my students…”

You laugh, and his smile makes those dimples pop out again.

“Then,” he says, “Then I think I wanna do this.”

You can say with absolute certainty that you didn’t come here to kiss Qian Kun, but that’s exactly what’s happening. He kisses calm and steady, and you’re ready to about melt into his arms. It’s just a few gentle presses of your lips against his, until he suddenly grabs you around the waist and spins the both of you, so that you’re the one up against the desk.

He lifts you the little bit so that you can sit on the cold surface of it. You move your legs to either side of his hips, and he groans a bit as he draws even closer. As he settles his body against yours, you can feel the barest beginning of an erection pressing against your inner thigh.

“Excited already?” you ask, amused, as Kun traces a path of kisses across your jaw.

“Maybe,” he replies, “Are you complaining?”

“Not at all.”

He laughs at that, which makes you laugh, and you hook your arm around his neck to bring his mouth back to yours. You could get used to this, you think, as one of Kun’s hands sneaks down to jerk your button-up out from where it’s tucked into your nice jeans. As soon as he has access, that hand goes right up your shirt to find purchase-

KNOCK KNOCK.

You jump, and Kun glances over his shoulder at the door, panic evident on his face. Before he can call out to tell whomever it is to wait a second, the door swings open.

“Hey, Qian, I had a question about the performance review for-”

Of course, it’s her. Your student, the very same one with the hots for Kun, walking headlong into the office. When she finally looks up and sees you there, on the desk, legs spread and Kun between them, she freezes.

“I…” she sputters, “I – I guess I’ll come back later.”

“Close the door behind you,” Kun agrees.

She nods, looking mortified. “Yeah, yeah, of course. S-see you on Monday, Doc!”

[limitlessgojo]

Blood Bound: Red Strings of Fate (Ch 9)

Warnings: Action, Coarse Language, Fighting, Descriptions of Blood

Previous Chapter: Red Strings of Fate

Next Chapter: Invisible Ties

Tags: Soulmates AU, Angst, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Fem!Reader

Taglist: @lessie-oxj @rizzo-nero @whoreuc @fkngkumiko @isl3t @gojoussunglasses @onepotatostand-blog @s-t-f-u-b-i-t-c-h @sunaswife

Notes: If you want to be tagged for every update, please mention it in the comments below ty <3

Chapter 9: Wait for Me

After the mission, you got back to the Kyoto High School campus. Both of you were still a little awkward, not knowing exactly how to proceed with your relationship. Are you dating now? Not necessarily.

Noritoshi reached out to you from behind, but thought better and retracted his hand. You seemed to have zoned out for the rest of the mission, so he thought it would be better to give you a bit of space.

You both were outside your dorm room after having submitted the report about how the mission went.

You turned back to face Noritoshi, “Thank you so much for accompanying me on my first ever mission senpai. It was definitely a different experience from just sparring with other jujutsu sorcerers. I’ll do my best to improve.”

You lowered your head, but he bent his knees so he could face you, “You definitely have talent and raw power. Please be more logical in your tactical and in-fight responses next time. Thank you for protecting me.” He spoke quietly so as to not disturb the other students who are already in bed.

You smiled tightly, “Just… doing my job.”

You looked up to face him. There was something cloudy and stormy in his expression that you couldn’t quite read.

He was such a hard man to read, Kamo Noritoshi. Now that you think about it, you really don’t know much about the man who is your soulmate.

Noritoshi pulled back with his usual solemn expression. “You should go on ahead and get some rest. Good night.”

“Good night Noritoshi senpai.” You weakly called out, before going back into your room. Your heart had never pounded this hard and fast before, you were sure. You had trouble going to sleep that night, remembering the second vision you both shared.

On the other hand Noritoshi’s head was spinning by the time he got back into his room. He could still feel the ghost of the kiss from the vision and wondered how it would feel to hold you close to him like that.

◇◇◇

During the weekend, Noritoshi went back to the Kamo Clan estate and told his father of everything that had occurred between the two of you. As soon as he finished his father softly slammed down a fist on his desk out of excitement.

“It’s been how many years since the last known living pair of soulmates existed? They were so highly regarded that most pairs chose to live in complete isolation out of fear of being targeted. We need to be careful, but this is truly a blessing from the heavens.” His father smiled.

Noritoshi’s dad pushed a book towards him. “We were able to find a very old record of soulmates from our clan’s history. Kamo no Hotaru. A man who lived quietly, after eloping with his soulmate away from the Kamo clan. His partner was said to be a woman from the Abe clan. They supposedly died in battle, according to records. This happened during the rise of curses right before the Heian era.” His father spoke solemnly.

Noritoshi felt chills run up his spine upon hearing his words. “The woman’s name is unknown. But her parents were known to have not approved of her involvement with Hotaru kun. This was as written in the diary entries of Hotaru. Curses and curse users alike were drawn towards their synergy and tried to break them apart or at least kill one of them.”

“They might have survived had they stayed with their families, but they chose love above all. Back then it was not yet widely known about how soulmates’ offsprings could have a power far greater than their parents’, but now we do. But even apart from that, a soulmate bond is said to make both halves grow stronger. So make sure that you don’t let go of her. Charm her and make sure she stays with you. A stronger bond will give you strength as a Jujutsu sorcerer.” His father orders him.

The words were swimming in Noritoshi’s head. But… “If it’s simply falling for her and making her fall for me, it should come naturally with time father. To be frank, I’ve been attracted to her since our first meeting. I will do my best.” Noritoshi said firmly.

◇◇◇

Days after your first mission, Noritoshi’s words from your first mission together still bothered you. It was so dumb on your part. “You don’t know me.” Those words just kept repeating in your mind. It wasn’t wrong.

Make no mistake, Noritoshi didn't mean to offend you at all. From his point of view, he only wanted you to tell him the real reason as to why you saved him without thinking of your actions. He didn't mean to hurt you with his words.

You tried to let it go, knowing that he was just extra worried at that time. But to be honest, it was something that still hung over you. You wished to know him better, not only as a soulmate, but also as a friend.

Everytime Noritoshi came around you and greeted you hello, your heart would tighten just a bit. He could start to feel the weighted heaviness on your soul that he didn't realize was yours via the bond.

He simply thought that he was also feeling down for no reason. It was a long way, distinguishing whose emotions were whose, as the bond is still so fresh between the two of you.

And so he gave his mother a call and scheduled a meetup with her.

“Hello? Mother. Yes, I am well. How are you? …. That’s good to hear. Are you free this weekend? …. Nothing really, I just wanted to see you. …. Yes, me too. …. All is going well here at school, you don’t have to worry I promise. … Yes father is okay. …. Thank you, I’ll see you this Saturday then. Goodbye.” Beep.

◇◇◇

In the following weeks, Noritoshi had been incredibly busy to say the least. He was finally getting promoted to a semi grade 1 as long as he does well in his next mission.

His father was constantly reminding him to make sure he makes you fall in love with him as his soulmate, and hurry it up so that the rest of the clan can meet you already. And he just really wanted to see his mother.

One afternoon you tried to cheer him up after noticing his bad moods. You made senpai some coffee and brought him pastries in your free time.

You sent him a text saying you had something for him. He replied that you could stay for a bit in his room.

“Pardon my intrusion!” You called out as you went in. The door was left unlocked for you. “Come in.” Noritoshi looked up tiredly. His eyes had heavy bags and he looked so exhausted.

“I’m sorry to be bothering you. I just brought some coffee and pastries here so that you can regain a bit of energy senpai.” you whispered, not wanting to be too loud for him.

“It’s not a bother. I’ve just been swamped with so much work as of the late.”

"Senpai, have you… considered getting a bit of rest first? The TOEIC is still a long way to go." You stared at the papers that read "TOEIC 990" stacked on top of his desk.

"I have other matters I’m attending to. Family business and other missions." He grunted while continuing to write down on his paper. He was definitely stressed and overworked.

Maybe he needed someone, like a family member. You tried to empathize with him, "I see. Have you heard from your mom and dad lately? I also understand if you're feeling homesick, I feel the same…" You trailed off upon seeing his face tighten at the mention of his mother.

Your heart dropped.

"That's none of your business." He whispered coldly without thinking.

Fuck y/n. You stepped on a landmine.

You inhaled sharply, backing away. “Ah, I’m so sorry to be intruding. I stepped out of bounds. Please get as much rest as you need.”

You quickly excused yourself from his room feeling so confused from his sudden cold demeanour.

Noritoshi reached out to you, “Wait! I didn’t-” but you already closed his door and stumbled out of his room faster than he could react.

He gave a deep sigh, not meaning to offend you or anything. He just wasn’t in the mood to be around anyone else, and that included you at the moment.

He was just feeling stressed, because he had to cancel his meetup with his mother since his father demanded to talk with him about other clan matters.

He groaned out in frustration. “I’ll have to talk and apologize to her later.” He noticed a heavy and sharp tugging at his heart. He dropped his pen in surprise and stared at his chest in confusion.

"This… these aren't my emotions…" it dawned on him finally. Finally, you both are starting to share very strong bursts of emotion.

Pain and sorrow. Your emotions washed over him like a tidal wave, so sudden that he didn't realize tears were running down one side of his left eye.

He felt guilt and regret like never before.

◇◇◇

A strong wave of regret and guilt stabbed through you. You were pretty sure that these were Noritoshi's emotions.

You finally started feeling something from his end, but you just felt heavy. Was it supposed to be tiring to be a fated pair? Or was it just the bond that was messing up both of your emotions?

You couldn’t even ask anyone else for help, because currently there are no known living soulmates. Besides you and Noritoshi that is.

◇◇◇

The next time you met each other, it was a bit awkward. You tried to give him space during the past few days, understanding that it must be what he needed.

After all, he didn't seem too keen on the way you tried to connect with him last time. You probably overstepped your boundaries. It's true, even though you're soulmates, you're still just friends at this stage.

But Noritoshi found himself looking for you. Trying to catch you in his free time, he finally found you in the weaponry, training with your twin blades.

He stared at your figure. You looked like you were dancing rather than fighting. Smaller daggers controlled by your cursed energy flew around you, covering for any blind spots.

They came to a halt as you set them down and deactivated your technique.

"May I help you Noritoshi senpai?" You asked without turning to look at him. He felt his throat tighten up.

"I came to apologise." Your fingers twitched as though itching to throw your dagger at him. But of course you would never.

"Ahhh, it's okay, Noritoshi senpai. I'm sorry for rudely not minding my own business. Even though we might be soulmates, you're not my boyfriend. We are just good friends aren't we?" You said as you finally turned to face him.

‘Set the boundaries and define the relationship’, you thought to yourself.

Every word you said felt like you were pushing the needle deeper in your heart. It hurt, and you both knew it.

He stepped towards you, standing inches away and shaking his head. "I took out my anger and stress on you, and that was wrong of me. I'm sorry. I do care about you deeply, and you're much more than a friend. You are a very special person to me.``

"Don't say words you don't mean Noritoshi senpai. Please." Your heart was slowly crumbling. He looked pained. "I am not lying. Please believe me.”

But you shook your head and stood your ground. You could feel a fraction of his emotions at this stage of the bond. And you knew in your heart that he was just as confused as you are, trying to feel his way into this relationship.

Noritoshi’s father’s words echoed in his head, ‘Don’t let her go.’

"Don't be unfair to me y/n. If I need time I need it. And I will surely fall for you. If you need time, I’ll also give it to you." He whispered out urgently. "We have a lifetime together."

How did he always sound so sure of himself? Of the future for both of you? You looked back up at him with teary eyes. It sounded so wrong, like he was forcing himself to love you just for the sake of the bond. Does that even count...

"To be honest with you, I don't know what to feel right now senpai." Your voice cracked. His heart broke upon seeing you like this. But nothing can be done.

Does the knowledge of a soulbond always bring a pair together or does it doom two people who are not yet ready to love?

"Wait for me." He promised as he took your hands in his and looked you in the eyes. Your marks felt warm.

You finally felt yourself calm down. And it was so frustrating that you're becoming so dependent on him, turning to him for physical affection. He was the cause of your sorrows and joys altogether.

Blood Bound: Table of Contents

[mammonshuman92]

- Sapphire -

(Mammon x MC)

| part two | part three |

NOTE: F!MC

It’s here, in the endless sapphire pools, that I could get lost swimming, forever. The sheer power that they hold over me is otherworldly, and to be honest, quite unfair.

“MC! Are you listening?” Satan was looking at you with slight irritation, closing his book. The two of you have been studying for an upcoming test in the common room since you got home from RAD.

You jumped a little, abruptly interrupted from your daydream.

“Hmm? Oh, sorry. I guess I zoned out.” You replied sheepishly. You sat up in your chair, looking at your textbooks trying to regain some kind of memory of what you and Satan had been studying, but it was no use. As of late, there was only ever one thing on your mind. Well, one demon anyway.

“It appears that your mind is elsewhere. Maybe we should take a break and pick it back up after dinner?” he suggested.

You checked the time on your D.D.D., and jumped up from where you sat. Satan looked at you, shocked by your sudden rash behavior.

“Oh, umm.. I can’t tonight, I have a....thing. Tomorrow though?” You rushed around gathering your books and notes into a disorderly pile. Satan looked at you suspiciously. What has gotten into her? He thought.

“Alright. Are you actually going to be present? More than just physically, I mean.”

“Yes, yes. I’m really sorry. Thanks!” You yelled over your shoulder as you ran from the room.

As you rounded the corner of the hallway, you ran right smack into something, sending you and all your books and papers flying. 

Great.

“Oof!” 

That thing you smacked into? Yeah, that was Mammon. You both landed on your butts with a *thud*

“What the Hell are ya runnin’ for?!” He griped, confused as to what had just happened. When he noticed who had run into him and his attitude changed. “MC? What are ya doin'?”

“I’m sorry, Mammon! I didn’t mean to run into you, I’m just in a hurry.” You quickly explained, trying to gather all your papers, again. He grabbed the small bit of papers near him and handed them to you.

“In a hurry for what?” he asked curiously, cocking his head to the side a little.

Shit! He can’t know where I’m going! I need to make an excuse and fast!

“Oh, umm.. I, uh, I-I’m going shopping with Asmo! Yeah.” That should work. He ususally follows you everywhere, especially shopping but once it comes to shopping with you and Asmo? Yeah, he’d rather sit that one out. Although, I’m sure he’ll complain that you’re not hanging out with him anyway.

You quickly grabbed the last bit of papers and took off toward your room without another word to Mammon.

“It’s movie night, ya know?!” He called after you.

“I’m sorry! I’ll make it up to you, I promise!” You yelled hastily, before quickly shutting your door.

“Hmph. Guess I’ll just do movie night by myself then” He pouted, sticking out his bottom lip a little like a small child.

As he turned to go to his room, something caught his eye. 

A piece of paper the two of you had missed. He picked it up and looked it over. 

It’s for sure MC’s handwriting. Is it song lyrics or somethin’?

He shrugged and shoved it into his pocket.

--

“I don’t have time to change, so my RAD uniform will just have to do. I just need to grab my bag, then I can go. Ugh! I’m gonna be late!” You said aloud while darting around your room.

I’m pretty nervous. I’ve never read any of the stuff I write in front of anyone, much less a crowd or people. Maybe I won’t choke since none of the brothers will be there. Could you imagine reading what you wrote in front of HIM?

*Shiver.* No thanks. Pretty sure I would spontaneously combust.

You grab your things and hurriedly rush out of your room. Hopefully I get out of here without being seen. I’m not sure how many lies I can come up with.

As you made your way down the staircase, someone came through the front door.. Dammit! It’s Asmo.

After a quick discussion, you were able to slip away from him.

Checking your D.D.D. for the time, you quickened your pace. “If I hurry I can make it there before the first reading.”

--

Mammon laid sprawled out on the couch in the common room, scrolling through Devilgram. He sighed heavily. “I’m so bored.”

He heard someone talking just outside the doorway.

Is that Asmo?

He went to investigate only to find Asmo walking down the hall with an arm full of shopping bags.

“You guys are back already?” Mammon questioned him. 

“Pardon?” Asmo asked, visibly confused.

“You and MC only left like an hour ago and you’re already back? Are ya sick?”

“Mammon what are going on about? I left to go shopping right after school.”

Huh? She ...lied?

“MC told me she was goin’ shopping with ya and left in a hurry earlier. If she ain’t with you, where’d she go?”

“Maybe she has a date.” Asmo shrugged and headed toward his room. Mammon stood there motionless and shocked like he’d been slapped in the face.

A date? The thought clawed it’s way around his brain. He felt a pang in his chest.

He’s always with her. To and from RAD, after school, through dinner, and until bed. Always together. They’re best friends.

So how did she manage to meet some other demon without him noticing? He started to get antsy and decided to go look for evidence in her room.

He looked everywhere. All over her desk and dresser, he couldn’t find a single shred of information on this mystery demon. Feeling defeated, he flopped across her bed with a groan.

Am I not good enough? I mean, she already spends all her time with me, what’s she need someone else for?

Thoughts of MC being with someone romantically ...intimately, started flooding his mind. He tried to shake it, but they just kept coming. The pain in his chest got worse.

He’s always been fond of her. In the beginning, when she was still new, he acted like it was such a burden to watch over her, but he secretly enjoyed it. There was just something about her. As hard as he tried to fight it, he found himself developing a sweet spot for the human. She’s always so nice and sticks up for him when it comes to his brothers. She always seems happy to see him and is down for whatever crazy money making schemes he can come up with. Before she got here, it had been a long time since he had felt this happy. He’s pretty sure he’s never laughed so much in his entire existence than when he’s with her.

As much as he tries to convince himself that he doesn’t care about the human, he doesn’t want to go back to life without her. Truth is, he cares about her. A lot.

All the thinking was starting to depress him.

He decided to get up and go to his own room and sulk for the rest of the night. Maybe he could stop by Lucifer’s study and sneak off with a bottle of Demonus. 

As he made his way to the door, he noticed something. The little calendar on your desk had a date circled in red. He picked it up to get a closer look. The date circled was today.

“Coffee shop, 6pm”

Boom. Re-con was successful! He found out where your date was!

He put the calendar back on your desk and checked the time. Crap! It’s almost 7.

He bolted from the room. If he had any chance of seeing what kind of punk lesser demon you were on a date with, he needed to hurry.

--

“This has to be it. She only goes to one coffee shop.” Mammon whispered to himself as he tried to peak inside the front window of the establishment. He couldn’t see you anywhere from where he was and decided to go inside and sit at a table in the very back. Maybe she won’t notice me. He thought. 

He scanned the room, but still couldn’t see you anywhere. Maybe she went to the bathroom?

As he kept scanning the room, the lights started to dim and everyone focused their attention to a small stage with a lone microphone at the back of the shop.

Huh?

A light shined on the stage and a man stepped up to the microphone.

“Thank you all for coming, we have a great turn out tonight. Without any further adieu, let’s get open mic night started!” The crowd applauded and the man walked off stage.

"Open mic night? I didn’t know she liked this kinda stuff.” Mammon said quietly to himself.

Maybe that’s why she’s on a date. He probably noticed all the stuff I didn’t. Mammon sat back in his chair, arms crossed across his chest, pouting. She’d never wanna be with an idiot like me anyway.

--

A couple people read poems, one girl sang, and a few people played instruments. Still no sign of MC.

Maybe she does know a different coffee shop. He started to fidget in his seat, mentally kicking himself. You shoulda told her, ya idiot!

How could he though? He is one of the seven rulers of the underworld. How is he supposed to tell a human that she makes his life so much better? That your laugh is like music and his favorite smell is that of your shampoo? That when you fall asleep next to him on the couch on movie night it’s the best night of his week? 

“Our final act of the night is new to the stage and a little nervous, so go easy on her.” said the emcee. The audience started to applaud as the man walked off stage.

Mammon scooted his chair out and stood to leave. She obviously wasn’t here and he needed a drink.

He was making his way to the door, when he heard it. 

That voice. MC?

He turned to see you standing on the stage, spotlight shining on you. He listened as you spoke.

Is that ...a poem? The words sounded very familiar, like he had heard them very recently. Then it clicked. 

He fished the piece of paper out of his pocket. The poem you were reciting on stage was the same thing written on the paper he found in the hallway.

She wrote this?

He looked up at where you stood on the stage. You hadn’t noticed him so he made his way back to his seat. As he watched you, he started paying attention to the words you were saying. You spoke so softly.

“It’s here, in the endless sapphire pools, that I could get lost swimming, forever. 

Gold flecks, warm like sunshine, adorn the precious gems he dare call an iris.

The sheer power that they hold over me is otherworldly, and to be honest, quite unfair.”

So there really is someone. He thought. There was a stinging feeling in his chest. You don’t talk like that unless love is involved.

“Warm skin, the color of caramel, electricity felt in the slightest of touches.

Hair born of the winter, soft as the Heavens from where it once reigned.

Completely enamored by this creature, I would also happily fall from grace.”

Hair born of winter? Fall from grace? Tan skin?

Wait. That sounds like..

Realization hit him like a truck.

“..It’s about me..” He whispered, barely audible even to himself.

His chest felt like it was going to explode. His stomach so full of butterflies he felt nauseous.

He couldn’t believe it..

| part two |