#personally birthdays mean next to nothing its just an excuse to hang out with people

[spookberry]

My least favorite plotline that shows up in like every single piece of media at least once is the "surprise birthday party". Literally cant stand it. I hate surprise parties so fuckin much. Even worse when the surprise is for a "i dont like surprises/parties" character OR they go with the "everyone pretends to have forgotten their birthday" plotline like i HATE it so so so much makes me feel like a rabid dog i wanna rip it apart with my teeth

[peace-for-levi]

And They Were 'Just' Roomates? [Levi Ackerman x GN!Reader]

Synopsis: Levi and reader are roommates and he is stuck with his feelings while you are dating Zeke Jaeger. Two years after graduating university, they now live together and Levi is still stuck pining for you whilst you're with Zeke... until you break up.

Tw: alcohol consumption, reader is a drunk, emotional mess, some drunk making out, levi being a diehard SIMP and Zeke being kind of an asshole.

This was part of july prompt event 'Roommates', hosted by @anlian-aishang ! thanks for hosting this!

--

From fellow students, to friends, to work colleagues, to roommates and… well, that was it, right?

Levi Ackerman walked down the hallway of the apartment, his hands trailing against the architrave. Leather satchel was thrown around his shoulder that was full to the brim of English papers and his other hand had a glass of water. He was wearing a buttoned up blue shirt and grey slacks and his nice shoes. One would say he was dressed nicely… but could the same be said about his roommate?

“[F/n].” He called out to you through the door after knocking.

It was Friday morning, and anyone would be in a good mood on a Friday, right?

Wrong; not you, anyway. After what happened last night, you traipsed into the apartment late at night and the sight of you made Levi stand up from the sofa and pause the nature documentary he was blindly watching while correcting papers. You walked through the door with the spaghetti straps of your dress hanging down your shoulders, your mascara dripping down your face from your tears and your eyes red-raw as you continued to gasp in massive strokes.

It was an ever-evolving situation with your ex, Zeke. He had grown increasingly angrier and more jealous of your living situation with your friend. Loads of fights and resentment from him towards you and the raven-haired man you lived with had you questioning your feelings towards him. And perhaps towards the end, your love for him had run out… You don’t know how they zapped up so quickly; you and Zeke had once considered marriage and a life together, and it was going well even when you and Levi moved in together initially. After all, Zeke was over at your apartment basically all the time.

And perhaps he noticed the way the raven-haired man looked at you, or the way his hand rested on your shoulder a bit too much, or the way he had your takeaway order memorised.

Perhaps he had figured out Levi’s secret feelings for you…

But that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he dumped you in public last night. At you two’s favourite café. At the place of your first date.

And so you wandered in late last night sobbing your heart out, instantly throwing yourself onto the couch next to Levi, despite you knowing he wasn’t the most touchy-feely person out there. Still, to your surprise, he wrapped his arms around you after a few seconds and rubbed your back in circles as you cried. You looked and felt disgusting; fat teardrops and snot dripping down your face, and yet he still chose to hug you

He was just such a kind person. Such a kind friend. A kind roommate.

He wasn’t an idiot. He had been listening to you cry yourself to sleep for the past month now, watching you intently type away on your phone when you two were probably having another fight. He heard you crying and yelling over the phone during arguments from your bedroom. After all, he had his failed relationships too. He knew the process and the path this was taking. And you were there at his side when his relationships had failed.

Being roommates and teachers at the same school did have its perks. Levi had rang ahead of you and told your principal you were taking a sick day.

Levi sighed when you hadn’t opened the door. He wasn’t running late by any means, but he loved to be early. Loved it.

They’re alive… right? Yeah, of course, he said to himself. He leaned down onto the door handle - hands being full and all - and pushed inside.

Curtains were drawn shut, your takeaway from last night knocked over on your desk, teddies and various gifts from the relationship were torn apart on the floor… Levi did his best to walk around every obstacle in his way until he came across the bundle of sheets and blankets. He walked over to the other side of the bed and sat down. He peered down at the floor below him and saw all the tissues you had tossed out over the side.

You wasted the entire box of tissues - the lavender scented tissues and that were his favourite! - but he’d lecture you another time. You were clearly not having a good time.

“[F/n]...” he called out gently. You shrivelled up in response and he sighed for the umpteenth time. “Will you at least crawl out of your blanket prison and drink some water? Damn it, I can’t have you getting dehydrated from your crying last night.”

Oh, but he couldn’t resist the urge to lecture you even the tiniest bit!

“And you used all my good tissues… Erwin got those for me.”

“Erwin can take those tissues and shove them up his ass!” you yelled.

Levi’s face softened at the fact you were still so miserably looking. You didn’t show it on your face - in fact, you looked totally emotionless and empty - and you didn’t respond to his advances. He peeled away the covers and saw you lying in a fetal position clutching your phone, eyes staring at the text messages intently. He snatched your phone and typed in the PIN - you two were that close that you knew each other’s PINs - and he saw you had been texting Zek And he had sent a few messages back.

Zeke: You still don’t know why I dumped you? Are you that slow?

Zeke: I have seen the way he looks at you. I have seen the way you look at him and the way you smile at him. You two are so-called ‘roommates’ but don’t pretend I have forgotten you two’s history in college! How can you two ever expect to be just roommates?! Never contact me again. What a damn waste of two whole fucking years.

The raven-haired man shook his head and he made the decision for you to block his number and delete all media and traces of him from your phone.

“You’re not texting him anymore,” he told you, “He wasn’t good for you. He was never going to be good for you, [F/n].”

Your hand reached out for your phone and you plugged it back in to charge it and you rose from your lying position. Good heavens, you looked… not good. The bra you had worn to bed was poking out of your camisole and your hair was a mess. Levi reached forward and pulled the strap up, being careful to not let his hands linger too long.

You didn’t seem to be in the mood for talking, and he didn’t blame you. He was just trying to look out for you, as a roommate… right?

He pressed down on his knees as he stood up and stretched. He reached down for his leather satchel and told you when he’d be back and to try not to let this take up more of your sick days. “Drink your damn water, too.” He warned.

Levi left with a ruffle of your hair and you collapsed back into bed, pulling the covers back over you. He procured his blazer from the coat hanger that he normally wore over a button-up and put it on. He felt around for the keys and wallet in his pocket and hurried down the stairs to the carpark. He opened the door to the car and buried his face in his palms.

Was he really not that subtle? Had Zeke seen through it all?

How could he help himself… not when he had been hiding his feelings for you for over two years now… He thought that by being roommates and by living with you, he secretly hoped your living styles would conflict, or you two may not have clashed as friends but maybe living together would be too difficult…

...Or was that all an excuse just to be closer to you? After all, you were two freshly out of college looking for an apartment each, but when he told you he found a nice enough place that was decently priced - and how he was your best friend - how could you say no?

Levi wasn’t one to fake innocence or naivety; he knew exactly what Zeke was referring to when. By which you two had drunkenly hooked up four times throughout your degree. And so started the intense feelings he had for you.

He remembered his feelings started out so innocently. You two were in the same education programme and you took a few modules together and naturally by spending more and more time together, you two got closer. Feelings developed and were repressed time and time again. You’d go out together all the time on walks in the middle of the night or grab a drink at the end of exams, but by not giving this a label, nothing came out of it. You two were just hanging out - not dating - and over time, you convinced yourself that that was all you two would ever be: just friends. Friends with feelings for each other, but friends nevertheless.

And this worked until you two got obscenely drunk at your twenty-first birthday party in your dorm, and woke up in the same bed together the following morning, clothes strewn about and his muscular arms wrapped around you.

And you both told yourselves that it would never happen again, and that it was a one-time thing. That you two would remain friends and never cross that boundary ever again.

Until it happened again not too long after… and again and again and again.

And you two both knew the last time that you two weren't even all that drunk…

He shook his head. No, he couldn’t allow this to clog up his mind and leave him feeling mentally congested. But of course his mind couldn’t help but wander to how good you looked - not including today - or how kind you were. And he recounted the sounds you made and the way you moulded to his touch those few times.

Fuck, I’m in too deep, he says to himself as he begins to drive.

.

.

.

By the time the clock ticked five in the evening, he checked his phone again having not checked it for a few hours. He was sitting in his car now and removed his blazer. He was sitting in the private teachers’ carpark but that didn’t stop a few people knocking on his car window. He would get startled initially but he would give a lazy wave of his palm.

[F/n] [L/n]: Hey Levi. Sorry for all the tears last night. But a few friends have invited me out to get my mind off of… everything. I’ll be heading out at around 5 for a meal and then I’ll be back a few hours after that I think!

Levi shrugged. At least you told him you were going out so he didn’t have to worry.

Alright, see you then and be careful. Don’t lose your keys while you’re out, he texted back.

A notification came through right away.

[F/n] [L/n]: You’re too mean! :( You have no faith in me bestie?

He rolled his eyes. No, he texted back and put his phone onto the phone holder and headed home. He was happy you managed to crawl out of bed as it is, never mind you heading out with your friends. This would do you some good. You normally hung around with the same friends from college too and he knew they’d take care of you in this more fragile state.

Good, he didn’t have to worry about you not eating properly - because, no, Ben and Jerry’s did not count as a meal - or you staying in your duvet prison. He could go home and relax and watch his favourite series he was watching. Perhaps he’d order food or do some yoga…

Wow, he was so easily pleased.

Normally you would text your roommate every couple of hours or so. By 10PM rolled around and no update from you, he eyed his phone and placed it down again. You were fine, surely. He just needed to know you still had your keys so that he didn’t have to stay up waiting for you.

They’re fine, hopefully, and I’m getting tired, he said to himself, his eyes fluttering shut. He reclined onto the sofa more, head connecting with one of the plump cushions and sleep overcame him for a short while.

Or so he thought.

He woke up again when he heard a crowd of young people parading outside the alleyway where his apartment block was located. He inhaled sharply and rubbed his eyes with the heel of his palm and leaned over to check his phone. Damn, still no update from you.

He stood up from the couch and knocked on your bedroom door. “[F/n]?” he called out. No answer.

Okay, clearly it was more than just a meal. You were probably out drinking. No, he wasn’t going to fret.

You didn’t drink too often, but if you were ever emotional while drinking, you were definitely wild and more prone to danger. As soon as the intrusive thoughts began, his phone began to ring. He could feel his palms sweating already. He wiped them off the slacks of his pants he had not changed out of and answered the phone.

“H-Hello? [F/n]?”

“Hi, this is Levi, right?” the female voice came. A little bit slurred but the person seemed okay. “We took a few classes together in college, it’s Christa Lenz.”

“Ah, Christa, yes. Is [F/n] alright?”

Christa seemed hesitant at first. “Um, well… no. Not really. We had a meal and whatever and they were fine then, and then another girl, Sasha, suggested a few drinks. [F/n] seemed up for it and it was all going okay. A bit tipsy but they--”

“Get to the fucking point.” He snapped.

“--[F/n] saw Zeke enter the bar around an hour ago, and they panicked and drank a lot more… Like they downed seven shots already.”

“Is [F/n] okay? Are they awake or conscious?”

“I mean… we’re outside Trost Bar now not too far from your place, but we’re sitting down because they feel nauseous standing. That, and they’re crying a lot. Uh. They’re kind of a mess right now.”

Christa didn’t hear Levi say anything else, but once she heard the footsteps, the door opening and the jingling of keys, she knew he was on his way. Levi momentarily stopped and ran back inside your apartment and grabbed a bottle of water, some painkillers, an empty shopping bag in case you needed to get sick and a few other essentials. He raced back down to his car as fast as his legs could carry him to rush and collect you.

He stepped on the gas. Thankfully, Trost bar was no more than a ten minute drive away but that didn’t mean he was going to take his sweet time.

He could recall the bar vaguely, it was an ideal location for students. It was spacious, but it was also popular so people crammed into it leaving little to no space for anyone else. The bar is hundreds of conversations all trying to compete with the rock music that dominated the atmosphere. It would boom in the speakers and there were speakers everywhere. At first he was confused how he could recall so little else about it but he remembered how much the loud music used to deter him and he’d only ever stay for an hour at a time.

He slowly came to a halt when he found your friend group sitting with you on the pavement. He parked across the road and after looking both ways, he ran across to you. Christa looked up, followed by Mikasa and Sasha. You on the other hand had your head buried between your legs. Levi knelt down and pulled your face into his hands.

“Sheesh, you’ve seen better days.” He remarked. You were clever to have worn waterproof mascara but everything else smudged and rubbed away. He pulled you up by your hands and slung your arms over his shoulder. “Thanks, you guys. I appreciate this.”

He walked you over to his car, but he heard the not-so-silent remark from one of your friends.

“There’s no way they’re just roommates, right?”

He only sighed, sat you down in the seat and passed you the shopping bag he brought from your apartment. He went round to the boot of the car and got you a bottle of water before sitting into the front seat. Leaning over to the glove compartment, he tossed your makeup remover wipes at you with the simple command “wipe” and he pressed on the accelerator.

You could say he was prepared, for sure.

An inexplicable feeling of anger had overcome the short man once you saw you in this drunken, emotional state. You would be able to see it in the way his thin brows had knitted together and the way his teeth ground against each other. Even in your drunken state, you could tell he was driving a bit faster than normal.

The ride home was silent, the tension was palpable. You finished removing the makeup and most of it had gone. Levi noticed you toss the wipe on the floor in your half-sleepy, half drunk state. Under normal circumstances he would have snapped at you to pick it up. Not tonight, though.

“Leviiii…” you drawled, your speech still slurred. When you didn’t get the response, you poked at his muscular thigh repeatedly until his hand reached down to seize your wrist. “You’re-” followed by a hiccup, “you’re angry at me.”

He was angry and he was trying to piece his emotions together. He felt anger towards you for drinking yourself into this state rather than dealing with your emotions in a more healthy way. He was thankful and appreciative that as a roommate, you never drank too often so he never had to come collect you like this, but he hated being held to that title.

Maybe he was angry he was only your roommate. Or he was angry at himself for being jealous of Zeke and angry that he wasn’t the one who got to wake up to you in the mornings after a night of euphoric, raw passion. Because, wow, that man had to grit his teeth and put on headphones many times when Zeke came over.

He was angry at Zeke for upsetting you this much and getting you so upset in the first place. For being so awful to break up with you in the place you two had your first date. He was angry at the thought of not realizing how much more you deserved. If Levi had gone to the bar, he was sure his first would have connected with the bearded-man’s jaw at some point. He was angry that Zeke never appreciated you the way he would have, even if he wasn’t the most emotive or touchy-feely person.

“I’m sorry, Levi…” you murmured, and Levi found himself slowing down. He didn’t want you to apologize, but the tone in your voice that was laden with guilt made his heart lurch forward. He saw a hazy light in the distance and began to glide towards the side of the road. In your blurry state you could make out where he was taking you to. “Levi?”

“Get out.” He said, plainly.

You blinked a few times as you prepared to get out of the car, knowing you’d probably wobble a bit. The dimly lit sign of the OPEN above the diner did make you suddenly hungry.

“I need coffee.” Levi muttered as he opened the door for you.

“Y-You could have used m-mine…” you mumbled, speech still slurring but you were becoming more lucid now.

He could have used yours, but he knew how nice it was to get some fried food after having a few too many drinks. Plus, he knew that you have gotten quite sensitive before when drunk or even a bit hangry. He walked to the double doors that were polished so clean you couldn’t see the glass. He walked in ahead and opened the door and held it open.

When the pair of you sat down, you ordered a cheeseburger and a vanilla milkshake which came with a side of fries. The already forming hangover was starting to hit but the smell of fried food was doing well to neutralize it for now. Fluorescent lights kept the counter lit and the slight hum that came from them was giving Levi a headache, but he tried to zone in on the jukebox in the corner that was playing some classics from the 70s. Still, Levi’s anger continued to brew and he knew he’d pop if he didn’t get home to sleep away his turbulent feelings. Once the food came, Levi quickly stood up to go to the bathroom and you eagerly ate, too engrossed in the saltiness of your burger and the sugar of your milkshake to even realize he had gone. He did swipe a chip from your bowl though and dipped it into some tangy garlic mayo once he came back, once he had shoved something into his pocket. You eyeballed him for a second.

“You didn’t actually go pee, you paid for me.” You deduced.

“You have no proof.”

“I can check your online banking,” you said, leaning over to swipe his phone. You heard him mutter something about how you didn’t know his PIN or login-details. “Two, five, one, two...” you whispered, the date and month of his birthday.

Levi only blinked and leaned over to snatch his phone. “Just shut up and eat your food.”

You munched in more tense silence. Once you finished, you two left and walked back to Levi’s car. Given how no one chased after you two, that confirmed that Levi had paid.

The more you babbled on the way home, the harder Levi gripped the steering wheel. The sooner you get over this breakup, the better for him. He knew it was just drunk rambling but he was getting so obscenely frustrated. He was tired, he wanted to sleep.

When you two arrived back home at the apartment, he walked inside and held the door open for you. If anything, he needed the paracetamol more than you now. He walked over to the counter to get a glass of water for himself until you beckoned him over.

You weren’t an idiot, you knew he was pissed. And you hated going to bed if you knew someone was angry at you.

“Sit next to meeeee!” you called out in a sing-song. You patted the seat next to you. “You’re so grumpy! Can we talk about it?”

“No. Don’t wanna talk about it. You’re drunk.”

“Am not!” you cried, standing up.

Levi leaned back against the countertop, chugging on the glass of water. “Oh, yeah?” he challenged. “Go on, then. Stand on one foot, hold it for thirty seconds.”

“Nooooo problemoooo…” you replied. You raised the sole of your foot to touch the side of your knee and calf and brought your hands into high prayer. You were doing it… you were doing it…

Until you stumbled and fell after four seconds.

“Hammered.” Levi declared.

You pouted. Okay, if he wasn’t going to talk, you’d have to make him. And what better way than to try to cheer him up?! You sprang to your feet and ran around behind the opposite side of the countertop, before crawling on top of it. You heard Levi beginning to question your actions but he had no time to react when you wrapped your arms around his neck and your legs around his waist. You just managed to force Levi into giving you a piggy-back.

“Smile for meeeee!” you beamed, pulling at his lips.

“Fuck off!” he yelled as he walked you over.

“Pleeeeeeeease!”

“NO! Get off me!” he cried, louder this time and flipped you onto the couch. “Fucking hell, you’re so fucking annoying and dense and you never know when to shut the fuck up!”

His uncharacteristic outburst shocked you as you looked up at him with doe eyes. He was tired and fed up, and he was feeling his jealousy simmering over. Like, hell, this never would have happened if you were never dating that furball to begin with. You never would have drank yourself silly. Even if you were dating Levi and you broke up, he could safely say he’d hate to hear you drinking away your emotions. He hated seeing you so upset over a man and he had to listen to this for over a month. For the past two years of him sitting with his feelings, he’s had to see you with a man who never appreciated you and you didn’t see just how much you deserved. Even if you didn’t find it with him, he was so convinced that anyone would have treated you better than Zeke.

In fact, he didn’t care if you never looked at him the same way he did you; just as long as you were happy with someone. He’d get over it eventually, even if it killed him in the process.

But how many more men would come and go because they could never accept the fact you lived with your best friend - your best friend you have been intimate with?

He’d never be able to forget those moments with you. Especially the last time you two slept together.

You two were basically sober, and yet you still wound up with Zeke not too long later…

Maybe hearing it from you as to why you could never give him an answer. He was your best friend after all… why couldn’t you tell him you weren’t interested?

He stood before you as the thoughts circled in his head like a never ending merry-go-round; one that had a scratchy, out of tune melody but still droned on and plagued him. He glanced up at you and saw your eyes were now beginning to water.

Shit, he forgot how easily sensitive you were when you were drunk.

"You know, Levi… I think you're so mean and grumpy at times, and that you don't understand me!" you cried. Even though you were deep in your feelings and a slobbery mess, you still threw your arms around him, always finding comfort in his arms.

Levi sighed and relented, guiding the two of you down to the sofa and he waited for the emotional, tearful outburst to pass. You sat on the right and he made what could be considered as a potentially suggestive gesture to rest his hand on your thigh. But that was it, he just rubbed your leg up and down as you continued to bawl and be a mess.

"Yeah, perhaps I don't understand you…" he murmured once you begun to calm down.

You sniffled and looked up at him. "What?"

"I don't understand you at times, [F/n].."

You blinked owlishly. "I don't get it. What are you referring to?"

Gosh, he was going to lose it. He knew he was going to lose it but he knew you couldn't help it if you were still confused, even if you were beginning to sober up.

Don’t say it, don’t say it, don’t say it, don't say it...

"Why him, why Zeke, huh? You knew I loved you two years back. I still do. I knew at the very least liked me. So, fuck-- why would you even tough it out with him that long if he made you so unhappy?"

Fuck, he said it.

“Why couldn’t you at least tell me you didn’t like me back?” he asked, smoothing his black hairs back. “It’s been both great yet simultaneously agony living with you.”

You were silent, uncomfortably silent. He wanted to just tell you to forget what he said, but how could you? Not when he openly confessed.

Why did you get with Zeke… He never captured your heart the way Levi did in the first place. You tried thinking back to two years ago, but your mind was still fuzzy. It was a shame he did this while you were still a bit drunk, but at least you’d be most honest this way, no? Drunken words are sober thoughts after all.

At the time, were you, perhaps, scared to get romantically involved with your best friend? Was the timing of it all too wrong, close to graduation, where afterwards Levi planned on moving away? Could you have coped with long distance after being with him for the four years of your undergraduate?

“Maybe because I knew we were graduating soon and you wanted to study more out of state…” you murmured. “Maybe because you were my best friend and that would have made things messy… And if you were going to leave, I guess I needed to find someone else because I assumed nothing would happen…”

Levi looked at you as he spoke. Sure, that was the original plan - to move away - but he realized he’d be better off finding a job first to pay him part of the way and maybe take a sabbatical of sorts a few years from now to further his education. And it just so happened you two both ended up applying and getting accepted at the same highschool. And that you had been dating Zeke for four months now so what could he do except live with it.

“Maybe I was scared you only liked the times we were physical together and nothing more…” you added.

Levi sighed heavily. He had watched you the entire time as you spoke before turning to look at the countertop in the dimly lit kitchen area. He pressed down on his knees as he went to stand up. “Look, I’ll just--”

“N-No!” you interjected, grabbing him by the hand. “Stay.”

Levi’s eyes widened marginally and he sat down again, not shaking away your hand. Your lower lips trembled as you continued to stare at him, and he back at you.

You leaned forward and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips. It lasted just a second and there was no time for you to savour it.

“I’m sorry, Levi.” You mumbled.

But before you could babble another apology, Levi raked his fingers through your hair and placed a kiss to your lips.

“Don’t be. But fuck, wow, we really need to work on communication. Even if we are just roommates.”

You shook your head and you quickly moved to straddle him. This action shocked Levi to his core, evident by his wide eyes but they quickly became clouded with lust as you ground against him and leaned in for a soul-sucking kiss. His hands found your hips and his mouth moved in tandem to your own. He let you explore the recesses of his mouth with your tongue and he could only respond in kind as he removed the jacket you were wearing. He could tell you were definitely eager by the way you hand cupped his cheeks and smoothed over them constantly, pushing yourself in for more and more.

He was displeased at how much you had dominated him so quickly and had his head spinning and was quick to tighten the grip on your hips and pushed you down onto the cushion of the sofa. The two of you continued to kiss and grind against one another, your fingertips raking across his back. You arced your head back as Levi moved to leave sloppy kisses against your neck, sucking and biting occasionally until he was sure to have at least left some sort of mark in his wake. You pulled his head back to yours and bit on his lower lip. He let out a soft yet animatlistic groan and it only spurred you further. Every blissful noise that escaped you made his blood overheat and left a burning desire in his bones.

Fuck, he wanted this so badly. He had been waiting so long. It was just perfect; you fit and moulded to him perfectly. He’d love to take you right then and there on the couch but his conscience just wouldn’t allow him.

You weren’t entirely sober.

This could all change in the morning.

He groaned and pulled away once your fingers tried to pull at the fly of his slacks. He was quick to grab your hand and sit back up. He looked down at you again. “I respect you too much to do this now, not until I know you want this as much as me.”

“But, I do--”

“You’re drunk, you’re not able to properly say you want this or to consent. I can’t allow myself to do this now. It’d be different if you weren’t.”

“I can sober up quickly, look!” you pestered. You closed your eyes for a few seconds before they opened again. “See? Sober!”

He scoffed. “You just counted to five with your eyes closed and opened them again. The answer is no, [F/n].” He said, and stood up. “I’ve waited too long for you not to properly enjoy this anyway…”

You couldn’t help but blush at his last words. “Alright, roomie, will you at least come to bed with me then?”

He scoffed but you could see him smiling amidst the murky darkness of your apartment. “I guess so.”

You two pattered down the hall, you stopping to remove your heels halfway. You opened the door to your bedroom and changed while Levi put on his nightwear. You shuffled into bed in just a vest and cotton shorts and Levi was soon to follow. He extended an arm and you sidled up next to your roommate.

“Depending on how this weekend goes, you and I may just need to take a sick day on Monday also.” He uttered after a few minutes of both your eyes being shut.

“What do you mean?” you asked, yawning.

“I haven’t had you in two years, ‘s been far too long…” he replied. He knew that alone would get you to blush so he settled in closer to you. He smirked and said, “sleep well, roomie” before heading off to dreamland.

You, however, continued to fantasize for the next hour or so before sleep overcame you too.

Was this the right decision to make after getting out of a long-term relationship just a day ago? You couldn’t tell. But you did realize back then when you were kissing him that there was something that was never there with Zeke. Maybe it was more love, or it was sensitivity. Maybe it was more attention to detail and consideration. Maybe it was the pining and the restraining he had to do that left to unbridled passion.

Well, you had a whole weekend to yourselves now - and perhaps Monday, too - and you were already excited for what was in store tomorrow.

.

.

.

Once your hangover goes away, of course.

[sabraeal]

Consider: Obi is green-red color blind

A Color by Any Other Name

Written for @aeroplaneblues for a surprise birthday gift! Many months ago she mentioned wanted to see a colorblind Obi, and I said, WELL WHAT A GOOD EXCUSE TO WRITE THIS PROMPT JOANNA GAVE ME. I hope your birthday is a good one, filled with a lot more nice surprises!

“Are you ever going to introduce me to your guard friends?” Suzu asks around a mouthful of dumpling. “Or are you embarrassed?”

To say Obi is unprepared, would be an understatement; there’s a pork bun lodged between his teeth, his gloves not only coated in pig grease but also far less effective against steam than he’d thought they’d be back when he’d just grabbed a plump little blob off the stall. He’d laughed off Suzu’s concerns about protective equipment; after all, if smiths use leather gloves, they’ve got to be just as good as an oven mitt.

They aren’t. Not to mention the roof of his mouth starting to have a real good think about peeling off and having a vacation. Maybe even with someone who doesn’t eat entire dumplings straight from the basket.

“Wha?” he manages eloquently, nearly drooling spicy meat drippings onto the street.

“I know I’m not cool like they are,” Suzu continues, warming to his new thesis. If his sudden flush of confidence is any measure, he’s spent more of time composing his arguments for this than Obi’s ever seen him work on his actual defense. “And I’m no good with a sword. Or fists. Or really any implement that isn’t a scalpel, and any opponent that isn’t already anesthetized. But I am very smart.”

There’s a thoughtful pause before Suzu adds, “Some people do enjoy that, you know.”

What Obi knows is that this kid tried this conversation on for size in front of Yuzuri, and she didn’t even bother to warn him as a courtesy. See if he buys her any more meat-on-sticks when she’s ‘left her purse in the lab’ now.

“That’s not--” he takes a hurried minute to swallow-- “not what’s happening. I didn’t...”

Even know you knew I didn’t work for the pharmacy. His teeth clamp shut around that winner, and its friend, I didn’t think you lot would want to hang out with a bunch of men without degrees. Not only would that encourage Suzu to make a scene right here, right now, but if it got back to Jirou-- well, if he thought Suzu could turn any day into a disaster, the lieutenant would make that seem like a vacation.

“I didn’t think you wanted to,” he settles on instead. Similar enough in feel, if...creatively edited. “You scholar types tend to flock together.”

“Well, sure,” Suzu murmurs, stymied, “but we’re friends too, aren’t we? If all my friends are your friends, then all your friends should be my friends.”

Only an academic could talk about arithmetic with that amount of confidence, especially the kind that involved transitive properties and letters, and all sorts of things that made Obi’s head spin.

“Well,” he hums, one boot scratching his calf. “You would know.”

Suzu whirls on him, staring down his long fox-snout of a nose. “You mean it? You’ll really...?”

“Sure. If that’s what you want.” He twitches his shoulders, more casual than he feels. “It’s fine if it’s you.”

There’s always been a lazy lilt to Suzu’s eyes, but it disappears now, all the sleepiness gone to surprise. “Me? You wouldn’t want to bring anyone else?”

“Well, definitely not Kazaha.” The glares he’d get bringing that twiggy pedant into the guardhouse might be enough to drop him dead on the spot. “And Yuzuri would be too popular.”

Suzu grimaces. “The number of admirers she’d get from a wink alone...she’d be unlivable.”

He can see it now, her ponytail bobbing with a buoyant glee, giggling through every painstaking penned line from her fan club-- “Think of all the bad poetry.”

“Honestly, that might make it worth it. At least I’ll feel better about not knowing the difference between a quartet and a quatrain.” Suzu takes a thoughtful bite of him bun. “And you couldn’t bring Shirayuki, of course.”

“Right.” Not a one of them could be trusted to keep their lips sealed; she’d hardly have to take a breath and someone would call her Obi’s lady, or ask how they met, or whether she’s still Mistress behind closed doors--

But Suzu wouldn’t know any of that. “Wait, why?”

“Well...” He has the grace to look chagrined about it, whatever it is. “You know. Her hair...?”

“Oh.” Obi shrugs. “Sure, I guess.”

“You guess?” Suzu stares. “Shirayuki has a non-zero amount of stories about being kidnapped for looking like a candied apple, and you guess there might be a fuss about bringing her ‘round to the guardhouse?”

“Well, none of you acted weird about it,” he snips, hiding his annoyance behind a bite of dumpling. “There’s no reason they will.”

“Of course no one at Lilias acted weird, Obi!” he squawks, arms flailing as he talks. “You couldn’t pay them to look at anything but their own project. But when a bunch of normal men with eyes and, uh, other working appendages see a cute girl with red hair and a soft voice, they’re gonna go crazy!”

His palm hooks around his shoulder, thumb digging into the hard knot at his collarbone. “Aw, come on. It’s not that special.”

“Not that--?” Suzu whips around, eyes round as dumplings. “Obi, she’s the only person I’ve ever seen with red hair.”

“You don’t get out much,” Obi deadpans. “No offense.”

“That’s not--” Suzu grunts, throwing up his hands-- “She’s the only person anyone’s ever seen with red hair!”

“Her dad’s is kind of red.” That observation wins him an unimpressed look, one that says you’re missing the point. “And Yuzuri had blue hair when I met her. That’s way more interesting--”

“It was dyed!” Suzu wobbles over to a wall, sitting with his head in his hands. “Shirayuki has a hair color so rare that the birth records in Clarines haven’t noted it in more than fifty years! And you think Yuzuri dying her hair with woad is more impressive.”

“Well, even her natural color is brighter than Miss’s. Not--” he waves a hand between them, quelling-- “that Miss’s hair isn’t nice enough. But I’d think that people would pay more attention to that.”

“...Brighter?” Suzu murmurs after a long moment, stilted. “Obi, could you tell me what color that sign is, right over there?”

“The one for the tea shop?” He wrinkles his nose. “Why--?”

“Just...indulge me for a moment.”

“All right.” He squints up at the moon cresting over a wolf’s head. “Blue.”

“Right, and, um, that coat over there.”

“Yellow.”

“Right.” Suzu’s voice is tight, stressed. “And what I’m wearing?”

Obi squints. This one’s a little harder, but he’s confident when he says, “Green.”

“Ah, right.” Suzu stands, a unsteady on his feet. “That would explain that, then.”

Obi blinks. “Explain what?”

“Obi,” Suzu begins, with all the gravitas of both a grim prognosis and a terrible joke. “You can’t see colors.”

*

It’s not the first time Obi’s played hound to his prey’s fox, but there’s something distinctly unsettling about it being Suzu that leaves him lagging behind, unsure of himself. Especially with the way he scurries through the concourse, bounding toward the mess hall with this idea caught between his teeth like chicken feathers.

“I can see colors just fine,” Obi informs him with far less confidence than he’d like. “Some of them are just hard to tell apart. Weren’t you and Yuzuri arguing yesterday about whether salmon is orange or pink?”

Suzu waves a hand at him, dismissive. “That’s different. Salmon’s both orange and pink, and what color it looks most like has to do with the composition of your eye-- and it’s pink by the way, with orange undertones--”

Between the two of them, Obi knows who he’d trust to know their colors. “Uh-huh.”

“You can’t make out red and green, which is different entirely, and--” the doors to the mess burst open beneath his hands, a noise lost in the din of a hundred scholars trying to share the same table-- “YOU GUYS WON’T BELIEVE WHAT I JUST FOUND.”

The whole of Shidan’s lab-- minus the man himself-- have taken up right by the door, bags and coats piled to save them their places on the bench. Suzu makes short work of the pile on his seat, haphazardly shoving them to the floor as he sits.

Kazaha peers at him and ventures mildly, “A new way to avoid finishing your thesis?”

“No,” Suzu hums between his grit teeth, “but I have found out--”

“I don’t think we need to do this,” Obi murmurs, handing Miss her muffler. “It’s not--”

“Obi,” he intones with far more gravitas than his name has ever strictly deserved, “can’t see colors.”

“Not at all?” Kazaha turns those sharp eyes to him, like he’s a specimen under glass. “Just black and white?”

“I can see just fine,” Obi huffs, tossing Yuzuri her coat before he slides onto the bench, knee knocking into Miss’s in a way that puts his heart through its paces. “Suzu is just making a mountain out of a molehill.”

“Is that so?” he hums with a grin. “Then what color is Shirayuki’s hair?”

He stifles a sigh. It’s best to put all this to bed now, before he’s stuck playing what’s this color for the next two years. “Red.”

“What’s the point of this?” Yuzuri yawns, already bored. Obi shoots her a grateful look, glad that at least one of them isn’t going to play Suzu’s game.

It’s too bad he’s already puffed up with unearned confidence, like an evolutionist at a botany lecture. “And what’s the color of Ryuu’s cloak?”

He knows it by heart-- how could he not, when the two most important people in this city wear matching ones-- but still Obi glances up, anticipating a trick. Ryuu stares back, confused and guileless. “Blue.”

“Great, good.” Suzu’s grin stretches from ear to ear. “Now what color is your scarf?”

Obi’s fingers knot in the fabric, the weft tickling the pads of his fingers. “Well, it’s...sort of reddish, isn’t it?”

This is the wrong answer.

“It makes so much sense,” Yuzuri murmurs in wonder. “You really don’t know how ugly Suzu’s outfits are. That’s why you still hang out with him.”

“Hey!” Suzu pouts. “That’s not very nice.”

“No, that has nothing to do with color, it’s the cut.” Anxiety spikes through him. “But wait, it is red isn’t it? My scarf?”

“No,” Miss murmurs at his side, cheeks flushes. “Obi, it’s...it’s green.”

He stares down at it, trying to imagine what that might look like. “Green.”

“It looks very nice on you!” Her small fingers wrapping in the fur at his elbow. “It’s your color, really.”

“Oh, sure,” he murmurs, faint. “I guess it matches my eyes.”

“Hey, what do you mean ‘it has nothing to do with the color?’“ Suzu’s hands fly to his hips, brows drawn tight over the long line of his nose. “My clothes are just fine.”

“They aren’t.” Obi leans in next to him, grin feeling thinner than it should. “But I hang out with you anyway, which means you know we’re really friends.”

Kazaha rubs at his chin, where his ode to Shidan’s goatee is failing to thrive. “You know what this also explains?”

Obi blinks. “What?”

“All the black.”

It’s not Kazaha that says it, oh no. That would be too merciful for a mortifying moment out of his life. Instead it’s low and feminine, and when Miss Kiki leans out from the other side of Miss, it’s like a siren emerging from the depths, teeth bared to tear a man to shreds. “What an interesting thing I’ve learned today.”

“Miss Kiki! How--?” He gulps. “Why--?”

“I came to deliver a message from Wirant,” she drawls, too pleased. “And it seems I’ve earned myself a fine tip.”

“No,” he breathes. “You can’t-- you’re not going to tell Master, are you? Or Sir?”

“Oh,” she hums, looking particularly hungry for manflesh. “I certainly will.”

*

“Oh, there there.” Miss pats his back, the sensation lost among the dozen layers of clothing between them. “I’m sure Kiki won’t tell them, not until you’re ready! You asked her not to.”

“I think that just means,” Obi mutters, voice muffled by his arms and the wall he’s throwing himself over, “that she’ll just enjoy telling them more.”

“Ah...” He doesn’t need to see her to know her grimace. “Yes, that’s...probably right.”

He lets out a heavy, dramatic sigh. It helps a little. So does a bit of flailing.

“They won’t make a big deal out of it,” Miss says, changing tack. “It hardly changes anything! I’m sure they’ll just forget as soon as she tells them.”

He peeps one eye over his elbow. “That’s easy for you to say, you haven’t spent the last half an hour playing What’s That Color.”

“Well,” she wheedles, “they are scholars.”

Obi groans, loud and long, which doesn’t help; but it echoes out over the rooftops, returning back to him, which does.

“How...?”

Miss hesitates, a gloved finger pressed to her lips. He sighs, already braced for the onslaught-- how didn’t you know? how did you go so long without knowing your colors? how do you find people if you can’t even tell what hair color they have--?

“How did you notice?”

Obi lifts his head, unblinking. “What?”

“How did you notice?” Miss repeats, more firmly this time. “You’ve spent your whole life this way, haven’t you? It must have taken something really special to realize there was more than what you see.”

“Uh.” It’s nice that it’s darker here, that it’s cold. He has perfect legitimate reasons to be flushed. “Well, it was Suzu really. He mentioned that--” his teeth clamp down around his words, not letting them out without a hasty edit-- “that people think your hair’s pretty special, and I said I didn’t get why...”

Miss stiffens beside him, a statue that breathes, and he hastily adds, “Not that you aren’t special, Miss. It’s just, the red...”

“Right.” The words comes out stilted, strange. “You can’t see it. You actually...haven’t ever seen it.”

A silence settles on them like a wool blanket; not one of those nice ones at the castle, or the fleecy ones Miss stockpiles like one day the North might run out of sheep, but the itchy, coarse-woven ones of his childhood. Uncomfortable and smelling faintly of animal.

“So,” he coughs, fixing his gaze out over the city. “What did Kiki want?”

“Oh...” Miss shifts, mouth pulling into a guilty grimace. “She came to tell me that the Queen Dowager has invited me to dinner. Tomorrow night.”

His brows raise. “Well, well.”

“Don’t,” she murmurs, head giving the barest shake. “It’s not like that.”

“Are you sure?” He shouldn’t press, but if he doesn’t, no one else will. “After you told Master--”

“I told him a list of reasons why I thought I would be a better ally as a friend, and not as a...” Miss loses steam, letting her words sigh into the air. “I’d like to believe this has to do with my work with Phostyrias.”

He watches her, careful. “But do you?”

“I don’t know,” she says, which is as good as any no.

*

Obi’s barely stepped into the Protector’s solar when Master asks, “What color is my jacket?”

His head swivels, delivering a glare so flat carpets would be jealous. Miss Kiki only hums, shoulder lifting in a disinterested shrug. “I said I was going to tell them.”

Fair enough.

“It’s blue,” he deadpans, flopping onto the cushiest divan. He’s too long for it, his boots spilling off one arm a idling over the floor. “Apparently I can see that one just fine.”

According to Miss, at least; she’d unearthed a slip of a book from the university’s library, outlining the limits of his sight. Little Ryuu had pored over it for a day before showing up at his door, flushed faced and nervous.

Garrack always told me I had nice eyes, he’d admitted, lingering at the threshold. I was hoping you could see them.

Cross as he is about the whole thing, Obi can’t regret that. He might not have Miss’s hair, or Suzu’s coat-- thankfully-- but Ryuu’s eyes would always look true to him.

“But not red.” Master’s mouth twitches, far too entertained. “Or green.”

“I do see them,” he protests. “They just...don’t look very different to me.”

Just another shade of yellow and brown, if those books are right. Which they are, since he’d always thought so. Subtly different, like the way Suzu and Yuzuri fought over salmon, or Master and Miss Kiki would dither over chartreuse. Just enough that he’d been able to eke by on keeping his mouth shut and a fondness for black.

Still, there’s nothing worse than finding out something new about yourself this late in the game. Especially when--

“What about the curtains?” Master inquires. “Can you see those?”

--Especially when it’s so endlessly entertaining to everyone else. “I can see them,” he grumbles, sinking further into the cushions. “Just because I can’t see some colors doesn’t mean I’m blind.”

“Then what about the note?”

Obi rolls his gaze to where Sir perches at his desk. “Huh?”

“To our red-haired guest.” Sir coughs, a flush working its way up his neck. “It’s just-- you wrote that.”

“Oh, His Grace told me that one.” A lifetime ago, it seemed. “‘The red-haired girl, you’ll know her when you see her, I’m sure.’“

Master winces. Obi can admit his talent doesn’t lie with impressions, especially ones of dour old men.

“Right,” Sir presses, voice oddly tight. “But you don’t see-- I mean, how could you find a girl that looks just like everyone else?”

“Ah...” He grimaces, scrubbing at the top of his head. “Well, I just looked for the girl who didn’t belong. It--” he hesitates, suddenly aware of Master’s eyes on him-- “didn’t take very long.”

Master’s frown belongs above one of those prie-dieu, to remind penitents that forgiveness isn’t absolute. “What is that supposed to--?”

“So what does she look like?” No one could say that after a decade of dedication, Miss Kiki doesn’t know how to do her job; she deflects Master’s brewing sour mood with the ease of a professional. “What does her hair look like to you?”

“Uh.” He clears his throat, tugging at his collar. “I wasn’t lying when I said I bought my scarf to match...”

There is a stillness to the room that is too much, too pitiful. Much as he hated it, Obi would much rather be a joke than a charity case.

“Huh,” Sir grunts, gaze still fixed to his neck. “Now I wonder what we all look like to you.”

“Well, I sort of wonder what you all look like to yourselves.” Obi let a sigh float wistfully through his lips. “At least I know that me and Miss still have the same eyes.”

There’s silence again, but this one buzzes, filled with words no one dares to say.

“What?” he laughs, nervous, pulling himself upright. “Don’t we?”

Sir grimaces. “Ah, Obi...”

*

Miss is quiet when they walk the walls home that night, the winter stillness making the silence and heavy as any drift. Her mouth is pursed, not with anything like anger, but something closer to consideration. As if there’s words back there she’s sorting through, trying to compose a thought that just won’t come.

Well, she should know: she won’t get anywhere if she doesn’t air a few of them out to look at. “Something wrong, Miss?”

She blinks, shaken out from wherever she gone away. Her mind palace, maybe. Suzu’d told him about those once, with busts and painting and curtained alcoves. What she’d do with a place like that, he couldn’t imagine, but if anyone asked, he’d put his money on hers having apothecary drawers instead, and gardens too. The kind with half crumbled walls, ivies curled around every stone. Cluttered desks piled high with books, and one of them with curtain drawn to let its owner nap the afternoon away.

“Oh,” she breathes, finally. “No, no. Nothing’s, um, wrong. I was just...thinking.”

He lifts a knowing brow. “So something is wrong.”

“That’s not what I said,” she informs him, primly. “I was going over my meeting with Haruto, and...”

Her lips snap shut around the words, distress narrowing her eyes. “And...?”

“She didn’t know about my work,” Miss huffs, arms wrapping tight around her chest. “Or, she did, but only what Zen had told her. Which...”

Was far less than the whole of it. He’d heard that part of her argument that night, try as he might not to. “So she invited you as Zen’s ally?”

“No.” The word is colder than any he’s ever heard fall from her lips. “That I wouldn’t mind-- I’m still trying to be his ally, after all, and if she saw me as an asset...” She shook her head. “No, she wanted to meet his...paramour, even if she didn’t say as much.”

Obi grimaces.

“And even that wouldn’t be so bad if...” Miss took a deep, steeling breath. “When I came in, after all the curtsies and pleasantries, she said, your hair is just as red as he said it was.” Her knuckles are white where they wrap around her elbows. “All those years, all those letters, and the only thing he thinks to tell his mother is that my hair...”

The rest is lost in a sigh, a cloud of mist swirling off the wall.

“It must really be something,” Obi deadpans, gaze following it off the edge. “Since it makes all these people forget how smart you are.”

She’s watching him; he can feel it as she sidles up to where he stands, hands unclenching from her arms and splaying on the crenellations instead. “Obi, you really can’t...?”

Miss hesitates, falls silent. He lets her; she’s put enough words in the air to sort through, and now all she needs is time. Obi’s happy to give it to her.

Especially since there’s a rabbit down there in the dark. A small one, moving slow, hind legs churning like clockwork winding up. It’s nose digs into the snow, snuffling around, searching--

“Can you really see better?” Miss asks, startling him back to the wall. “In the dark, I mean. That book said you could.”

“Well, after the past couple days, I’m a little shaky on what’s normal.” He jerks his chin over the edge. “Can you see the rabbit down there? Right by that sapling?”

She blinks, pressing in close. “The what? It’s just...dark out there.”

“Well,” he says, grin tight on his lips. “There’s your answer.”

Miss settles back on her heels, one hand already cupping her chin. “It makes sense. Without the distraction of color, your movement tracking must be much more acute...”

Obi only half-manages to stifle a laugh. “Seems like it definitely distracts everyone else.”

Miss goes quiet; almost too quiet, enough to make his teeth sit on edge. The seconds tick by, and Obi might play at patience, but it’s not in his nature. He glances down, just from the corners of his eyes, but Miss is already watching him, eyes strangely shuttered.

“Obi,” she says, so clear his name rings in his ears. “You don’t...? My hair, it’s not...” Her mouth works, quiet, before she manages, “It’s not anything to you?”

Anything special, she means. Because that’s what he said so stupidly last night, nothing special.

She’d tied it up tonight, finagling the strange looping knots that were partial to the queen’s court, but already some of it’s worn loose, slipping from its pins. “It is,” he murmurs. “I like it.”

She huffs, unimpressed. “But you can’t see it, not really.”

“Of course I can see it,” he laughs, weary. “Maybe not the color, but that’s fine. I like it because it’s yours.”

She ducks her head, and Obi might not be good at colors, but he can see her cheeks flush in the lamplight.

“Miss.” Her gaze lifts to his, no longer shuttered, just full. “Can I ask you something?”

Her breath catches. “Anything.”

“Be straight with me,” he pleads. “We do have the same eye color right?”

*

“Obi!” Miss‘s laughter bubbles bright with betrayal as she hops down the stairs after him. “Obi, please--”

“Let me grieve, Miss,” he grumbles, hands shoved in his pockets. “I’ve been a real champ about the rest, but let me have this.”

“Obi!” She catches him round the wrist, mouth twitching as she turns to him. “Is it really so bad that they’re gold?”

“No,” he mutters sullenly, shoulders slumped enough that with two stairs between them, they’re nearly the same height. “It’s just...”

Her eyes flutter wide with curiosity. “Just...?”

“It’s fine enough that they’re unique.” He spits the word with more venom than it deserves. “I just I wanted this one thing in common.”

“In common?” Miss blinks. “You mean, me and...?”

Obi would lay down his life for his mistress, but even she can’t ask him to do this, to lay down his pride for her to walk on.

“Oh!” She flusters, limbs fluttering in the air between them. He’s half-tempted to turn away again, but she grabs his face and holds him steady, her cold, slender fingers caught behind his jaw. “Just-- just one moment...”

“Miss?” he wheezes. This is entirely too close, too much--

“Yes!” He breath flutters over his lips, her own parting in a celebration of teeth. “That’s it. I see it. There’s a little, right there.”

He blinks. “A little what, Miss?”

Her teeth flash around the word, “Green.”

It’s cruel to throw a starving dog a bone, but he snaps it up anyway, heart nearly clogging up his throat with hope. “D’you mean it? You’re not just saying that to make me feel better.”

“Really,” she promises, her nod serious and officious as any she might give Little Ryuu. “There’s a thread, right around the middle. Green. Just like mine.”

“Oh.” His own hands raise, leather muting the feel of her skin, but-- Master always told him about the red thread that bound him and Miss together, that drew them toward their fated meeting, but this-- Obi will take this too. “Thank you, Miss.”

She smiles, eyes shining bright in the lamplight. “No, Obi, it’s my pleasure.”

Not much different between green and red to him, anyway.

[fernpost]

looking forwards

[link to ao3]

Angus McDonald, boy detective. Greatest detective, if you asked him. And if you asked most of his clients.

He could solve any case, any mystery or murder or missing persons case. He’s always able to find the truth.

He just struggles sometimes, when it comes to himself.

His own emotions are swirling masses of weird bubbly feelings . He does not like how hard it is to decipher his own feelings.

Deciphering people's feelings about him is often just as hard. He knows social cues. He’s studied them thoroughly, and knows why people say what when he’s asking them certain questions and what they’re hiding when they ask him to leave.

Working a case is easy.

He’s solved plenty of murders before. Those are easy. Child’s play! And Angus is not a child anymore. He’s twelve whole years old, and had the first birthday party he’s ever really enjoyed to celebrate with all his friends.

Sure, most of them were adults, but he’s always gotten along really well with adults.

And they’re his family, so it’s fine-

Well. They’re not really his family. He’s not blood related to them. He’s not sure he has any immediate family now that his grandpa is gone. He’s never asked Taako or Magnus or Merle of Kravitz or Killian or- or any of them if they consider him family.

They’re his friends. That’s fine. He’s perfectly content with that (he thinks. Again, his own emotions are confusing).

But that’s okay. Because he’s going to school soon. It’s kind of far away from where most of them live, though. Far from the home Taako, Lup, Barry, and Kravitz have been sharing. Where Angus has been staying.

Very far from where Magnus has been setting up his school. And a whole day's ride away from Killian and Carey’s home.

The school is three hours away from Angus’s ho- from Taako’s house, where Angus is staying.

He hasn't- he hasn’t told Taako he’s going to school yet. He doesn’t know how to tell him he’s going to need to move out because obviously he would never ask Taako to uproot his whole life- all of them to uproot their lives just for Angus to be able to attend school. Not when they finally got settled down.

He really doesn’t even need school, but when his parents passed away and he went to live with his grandpa he dropped out. And if he wants to go on to college (if Lucas is serious about the potential teaching job) he needs to at least graduate high school. He was almost done too, but his grandpa didn’t have a lot of money like his parents did, so he started solving more and more cases to help out.

His parents didn’t give his grandpa any of their money because they didn’t expect him to be around when they passed on- not that they were bad people! He doesn’t mean to make them sound bad. They weren’t bad. They weren’t the best, he guesses. They’re not as fun as Taako, or as warm as Lup, and didn’t give as many hugs and Magnus, and didn’t talk to him about science like Barry, or-

But they were nice. They just weren’t really into parenting. They still left their small fortune to him, he’s just not old enough for it.

He’s thinking of petitioning the banks and saying he’s perfectly independent to get the money so he can move out easier.

He wonders if Kravitz would help, because he’s really good at that type of stuff, and the bank workers would be much more likely to listen to an adult than him.

Being young had its perks when solving cases, but it sucked for his day-to-day life.

It also sucked when his stomach churned for no reason that he could deduce. He’s just sitting in the kitchen, watching Lup cook in her still-slightly-fresh body as she sings a funny folktale song (Barry is sitting next to him, and he’d leaned over when she’s started singing to tell him how she learned this song early on in a world that had no writing system, and the song was about a man who could never remember where he left his pants. Angus didn’t really get it, but Barry kept laughing and smiling like it was the funniest thing in the world. Angus was pretty sure Barry would laugh at anything Lup did as a joke, though. He didn’t need to be a great detective for that).

But despite how good the food smells, his stomach hurts really bad. He’s barely eaten today, so it can't be food poisoning. Not that he’s had that since moving in- the Taaco’s are wonderful cooks and he trusts anything they feed him implicitly.

He tunes out Lup as he thinks.

The stomach pains are probably anxiety. Kravitz was telling him how he used to get them all the time, so it’s possible it’s just that.

But he shouldn’t be anxious . He’s a big kid- he’s just waiting for Taako to get home so he can tell him he’s moving out.

He has already looked for an apartment. Once Lucas' Academy of Arcane Sciences is fully up and running, he should have a highschool diploma and will be able to move on campus to work on his own degree. And be a student teacher while he works on it. It’s very exciting! If he should be feeling any physical effects from his emotions, it should be excitement, not this. This gross conglomerate of mushy feelings he can’t piece together.

He hates this.

Lup is holding a spoon to him, and Angus snaps back to the present to hear her softly ask, “you okay, little dude?” He doesn’t like the look of concern on her face- she’s been through too much to have to worry herself with him (he can’t get the century out of his head, these people are so amazing and they just let him hang around them. He doesn’t know what he’s doing right and he’s scared he’s going to stop doing that and they’re not going to like him anymore).

“I’m fine, Miss Lup! Thank you for asking.” He folds his hands tighter in his lap as he smiles. Whatever is on the spoon smells great, but he’s not sure his stomach is up for it yet.

Lup continues to stare at him for another second before pushing the spoon a little closer, “if you say so. Now, tell me, how’s it taste?”

Angus shakes his head and pulls back, “my stomach isn’t feeling too good right now, I don’t want to infect the rest of the food if it’s contagious.”

A hand appears on his head and he jumps a little, still not used to the casual touch-language of the household, and Barry’s nasally voice joins the conversation. “You don’t feel hot. Want us to call Merle over and give you a check up?”

The spoon is back, “it’s a good soup, Ango. It shouldn’t upset your stomach, and I can just get a new spoon. Barry can call Merle while you give me pointers.”

“You don’t need to, it’s fine really.” He waves his hands at Barry before turning to Lup. “And I’m not sure what help I can be with the cooking, I haven’t improved much these past few months even with Taako walking me through those other recipes.”

Lup snorts, “you’re improving much faster than Barry ever did. And I haven’t been helping Kravitz much with it, but he’s worse than anyone I’ve ever met at cooking. You’re doing just fine.”

Angus straightens up, discomfort momentarily disregarded, “Mr. Kravitz hasn’t needed to eat or cook in a long time, so he’s forgotten a lot of the basics so it’s not fair to judge me against him.”

“Sure, sure.” Lup waves her free hand in the air, the other still holding the spoon. “Still, this spoon is staying in the air until you taste it.” She glances at Barry, “and don’t worry about bothering Merle, he’ll never admit it but he likes the excuse to come over. Barry will pick him up; gives him more practice on perfecting the portal spell.”

Angus frowns, but reaches out to take the spoon anyways, “you really don’t need to call him. I’m sure it’ll pass by tomorrow.”

A hand is now on his shoulder, and Angus glances over to make eye contact with Barry, who speaks. “I won’t call him tonight, but if you still feel bad tomorrow we’ll tell him, okay?”

“Okay.” He’s not going to tell him if his stomach still hurts tomorrow, because it shouldn’t. Because he’s going to tell Taako right when he gets home and there will be nothing making him anxious or sad or excited or whatever that will make his stomach hurt. Because he’s going to do it.

He punctuates the thought by sticking the spoon in his mouth. Lup has turned back around, a fresh spoon stirring the pot, so she doesn’t see Angus’s eyes widen, but she turns back to face him with a smile when he gasps.

“This is really good, Miss Lup! Thank you.”

“Anything missing from it?” She crosses her arms, a new spoon dangling from her fingers as she twirls it around. It feels like a test, and the stomach ache is back.

Maybe it is from anxiety, because he used to get them before really hard tests. But why is he anxious? Taako is most likely going to take the news well, because Angus will finally be out of his hair.

(But maybe he doesn’t want that. Maybe Taako being okay with him moving out would hurt. Maybe the thought of Taako not just being okay, but being excited at the thought of him moving out is making him sick with worry and sadness and-)

“I’m not sure what else. It tastes perfect as-is.” He can’t think about cooking anymore. “I’m going to read on the couch, if that’s alright.”

The twirling of the spoon pauses, before she gives him a smile he knows is a bit forced, “okay, but when Taako comes home complaining that something is missing from the soup we’re blaming Barry.”

“Hey!”

Angus slides from the stool, moving to the sink and placing the spoon in there before heading to the couch. The living room is open to the kitchen and dining room, and he can hear Lup puttering around in there as she and Barry speak quietly to each other.

He’s unsure if they’re talking about him, or just being polite because he said he was reading, but his stomach twists again anyways. He picks up his book from where he set it on the coffee table this morning, and tries to read- he really does.

But he can’t focus.

The words blur together as he stares down at them blankly. He’s so zoned-out he misses the sound of the door opening, and the ensuing whispering in the kitchen.

It’s only when a hand is on his shoulder does he notice someone else is in the room, and he almost jumps out of his skin. Turning his head quickly, he catches sight of the gaudy sequin coat Taako had bought a few months ago. He’s paired it with a pair of jeans with tassels, and Angus doesn’t know much about fashion, but he’s fairly sure that’s not a normal outfit combination.

“Lup said your stomach hurt? Did you eat the so-called muffins Barry made yesterday? Because I told him those were toxic for human consumption. Probably dwarven consumption as well.”

Angus shakes his head, eyes following Taako as he slips his coat off and throws it on the armchair. He’d taken one look at those burnt muffins and slid them behind the milk, hiding them to prevent anyone from eating them. The elf walks around the couch and sits on the opposite side as him, tucking his knees under him as he stares at him with those eyes that are far more observant than most people think.

“Uh-huh. I’m throwing them out anyway. Don’t want to risk it.”

Angus nods, fiddling with the pages of his book. He runs a finger down the edge, finding a temporary calm in the weird texture of the uneven edges. He’s wearing a crease into the sides, he knows, but that’s fine. His grandpa liked to talk about the beauty of a well-loved book.

He’d spent all night planning on what he was going to stay. He wants to make sure Taako knows he isn’t throwing his kindness back in his face, and that he is going to be able to do this mostly on his own. He doesn’t have many belongings, so the move itself would be pretty easy. There won’t be much for Taako to worry about. Angus has always been very self-reliant. He isn’t a pushover, and is fine taking care of himself. While living here has been nice, he’s fine going back to living like that.

A foot knocking against his knee gets his attention, and he glances over to Taako. The elf’s face is pinched, ears flicking back and forth.

It’s a weird expression to see directed at him. Taako speaks, “you with me, Agnes?”

He nods, eyes flitting away. The nickname is an endearment, something he figured out soon after he started living on the moonbase. Their story being projected into his mind only reinforced that knowledge; seeing how Taako interacted with the others (and how the others teased everyone as well) proves that Taako being mean normally shows he cares.

He states instead at the fireplace; it’s still kinda dirty because no one has wanted to clean it out from when Lup caused it to flare up during a particularly intense board game night (they banned board games when the fire was going after that, at least while Lup was in her lich form. Far too much magical energy waiting to be released).

“Angus. You sure you’re feeling okay?”

He doesn’t mean to flinch, but seeing a hand come towards his face after already being stressed all day caused him to react unfavorably.

The hand yanks itself away, and Angus forces himself to look over at Taako, apology already leaving. “Sorry, sir. I just didn’t expect it- I’m fine, really.” He almost says ‘I promise,’ but stops himself. He doesn’t like lying, and it wouldn’t have been a lie but it wouldn’t have been the full truth.

Taako doesn't seem to believe him anyways, as he squints at him. “You’re a terrible liar.”

Angus starts, “I’m not sick!”

“I know you’re not sick, but you’re acting all weird.” He wiggles his fingers, and it almost makes Angus laugh.

He takes a deep, steadying breath. It only makes his stomach clench even more. His face gets hot, and suddenly his throat is tight and he can’t- he can’t do it- he doesn’t want-

“I need to move out.” The words leave him at once, just barely slow enough to be comprehensible.

The soft conversation in the kitchen stops at once, though neither of them walk over to the couch. Taako is staring at him, face blank.

He finds himself beginning to ramble. He hates it, he’s normally more composed, but working a case is much, much easier than navigating people he cares about. “Mr. Miller offered me a position at his school once I graduate, and the school is on the other side of town. I can’t make the commute each day, it’s too far and the walk would be too much. So, I found a small place that’s cheap, and once I get access to my parents money they left me I’ll be fine on that front. And-”

“Miller? Lucas Miller?” Taako cuts him off. He hasn’t done that in a long while, and it shuts Angus up immediately.

“Yes? He’s opening his school, the Academy of Arcane Sciences.”

“And he wants you to teach there?”

Angus' face flushes, and he gets hot with indignation. “I’m very smart, sir. I am very qualified to teach, and it’s not a stretch that he would seek me out and-”

Taako puts his hands up. “Not what I was implying. You’re just young.” He glares off to the side, before pulling his crystal out. “Thought Miller was above hiring a child.”

“I’m not a kid.”

“How old are you, then?” Taako glances back over at him, eyebrows raised in that annoying way he gets when he thinks he’s made an excellent point. He’s typing without looking down, and Angus wants to know what he’s doing.

“I- that’s not what I meant.”

Taako leans back on the couch, looking back at his crystal. “You should be focused on being a kid, not teaching nerds at Lucas’s subpar school.”

The indignation that started when Taako brushed off what he’s been worrying about has been building and building. He clenches his hands into fists, letting the book drop to the floor as he stands and yells, “stop trying to make me have the childhood you wanted!”

He regrets it immediately, but can’t bring himself to look at Taako. The room is so, so quiet. It’s almost worse than if they yelled at him. He runs past the couch, dodging the hand that reaches out as he passes by Taako. He slips into the room he’s been staying in, closing the door and locking it behind him. He sits on the floor, back resting against his bed, and shoves his face into his knees, pulling them tightly into himself.

At least he made it easy, right? He’ll wait for Taako to cool down, finish packing his things, and leave.

He doesn’t even know why he said that. He knows Taako was just being nice, even if he phrased it poorly. He just wants him to be a kid because he knows what it’s like to not have a childhood. Angus had no reason to say that. He didn’t mean it.

The hot press of tears builds in his eyes and he forces them down. He has no right to cry when he was the one in the wrong.

Knowing Taako, Lup, and Barry are in there, talking about him, is almost as bad as the guilt. Not knowing what they’re saying is disquieting.

It doesn’t take long for a soft knocking on his door to fill the room. He says nothing, but looks up at it. He stares at the handle, checking it’s still locked.

“Angus, it’s Lup. Can I come in?”

He considers not answering. They’ve been good about not barging in before, when he makes it clear he wants to be alone. He doesn’t want to be alone, though. He’s just not sure he wants to have this conversation.

“Yeah.” He stands, unlocking the door and holding the handle. Breathes. Opens the door.

Ears tilted down low, Lup stands there with hands in a neutral position at her side. Gods, she’s being so aware of her movements right now so she doesn’t startle him. He turns, walks over to his desk, and stands by it. He’s now very aware of his backpack and small suitcase against the wall, half-packed. Not enough to be obvious, but enough so that when he told them he was moving he could do so quickly.

Lup is staring at it. She hesitates, then goes to sit on his bed. She doesn’t shut the door all the way, leaving it just barely cracked.

He hates being treated like this.

“We’re not mad.” She begins, and Angus can’t bring himself to look at her as she talks, staring instead at his bags. “Taako isn’t mad either. We’re just confused as to why you want to move out.”

Angus furrows his brow, glancing over to Lup for a second before retraining his eyes on his bags, “I told T- I said that it was too far for me to walk there each day.”

“Me and Barry have basically mastered rifts, we could bring you there and back you know. So could Kravitz.”

“I already thought about asking you to, but you’re called to go help the Raven Queen randomly, and I wouldn’t want to be stuck on campus.” He closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, “I didn’t phrase it very well out there.” He forces himself to make eye contact, “I am very grateful for everything you all have provided me, and I’m not leaving because I’m unhappy or anything. I just know I’ll be fine on my own, and I really want to go to school.”

Lup purses her mouth, “I’m not going to argue that you aren’t responsible or that you couldn’t live on your own. But you are young, there’s no reason you should be teaching at this age.”

“I’m not though! I’m finishing high school, and then student teaching until I graduate from his school. I’ll just be helping the professors until I have the proper qualifications.” He clenches his hands, trying to keep himself calm. He doesn’t like when people don’t understand what he’s saying.

She takes in what he says, keeping her gaze steady. “Okay. That’s better. But, you still shouldn’t be living on your own, little dude.”

“I used to-”

She holds her hand up, “come on, this is a group conversation. The other two people living here should be here for this.” Angus casts an anxious glance at the door when she says that. She continues on, “before we go out there, though, we do need to talk about what you said.”

Panic fizzles through him again. “I know! I didn’t mean it, and I’m really, really sorry. I just got frustrated because he was patronizing me and I don’t like being treated like that. I’m very smart and capable- I’ve done- I’m just-” He feels his emotions begin to well up again, and it only makes him more upset. He knows he’s more mature than this. He’s caught numerous serial killers, solved murder cases, and helped so many people. He can keep up with serious adult conversations, as well as banter with everyone easily. He’s good at words. He hates getting sensitive like this.

“Hey, hey. Angus, it’s okay. Breathe.” She steps towards him, moving slowly to not startle him and he hates how he’s already shown that she needs to do that. “Taako was being rude when you spoke to him, no one is denying that. But what you said at the end was also pretty rude. And we understand needing to take a minute to ourselves, but we have to make sure we have hard conversations. You’re telling us you don’t want us to treat you like a child, and we are not going to baby you. But you are still very young, especially compared to us.” She closes the gap to him and rests a hand on his shoulder, kneeling down. “Being mature means hard conversations. Being nice means having harder conversations. All we want from you, Angus, is for you to be honest with us and listen to us when we want to be honest with you.” She removes her hand from his shoulder and spreads her arms wide, offering a hug.

If he says no, she won’t make a fuss. He knows this.

He crashes into her, smushing her face into her shoulder. Her arms tighten around him as she runs her hand through his hair. “Here’s the plan. We go out there, Taako apologizes to you for being an asshole, you apologize for snapping, and then we all talk about you moving out, okay?”

Pulling his head away from her shoulder, he nods. He knows if he tried to speak, he would devolve into tears. She smiles and pulls him back into the hug.

They stay there for another moment, before Angus pulls away. Lup stands and gestures for him to lead the way.

His stomach clenches again, but some it’s not as intense as it was a few minutes ago.

They walk down the short hallway, and find Taako and Barry sitting on the couch. Both are staring at them as they enter the room, and Angus finds his hands twisting into the hem of his shirt.

“I shouldn’t have said that, sir. I’m sorry.” Angus says it fast. He hopes it doesn’t sound dishonest, the way it tumbled out of his mouth, but he knows if he slowed down the tears would fall too and he doesn’t want that.

Taako moves to stand, but Angus watches as Barry’s hold on his hand keeps him on the couch. Taako, instead smiles. “It’s okay, Ango. I was being an ass first. Should have listened to you all the way instead of cutting you off. Taako’s better than that.”

Lup brushes past Angus, moving to sit on the armchair next to the couch. Angus stays where he is. “I am still moving, though.”

No one speaks for a moment, but all three of them look at each other. After a moment of silent conversation, the type born from living together for a long, long time, Taako speaks up. “Okay. We’ve been talking about getting a bigger house anyways. This one is too close to the city and when the others visit it’s far too crowded. We need more extra bedrooms.”

Angus blinks. Then blinks again. “What?”

Lup sighs. “That’s one way to bring it up. We’ve already been talking about it- there’s a chunk of land just outside of the east end of the city. It’s not far from the school we assume is the one you plan on attending. Magnus has already said he’ll help us fix up the house there.”

He is still wildly confused.

Barry gathers that, and he sighs, “we will all move. So you can be closer to your school.”

He starts shaking his head, “no, you guys just settled down, you don’t need to do that.”

“Do you really think you could make us do anything we don’t want to do?” Taako asks as he begins to walk over to Angus. He mimics the position Lup took earlier, squatting in front of him. “If you really don’t want to live with us, fine. But we had already been talking about getting a bigger place. This isn’t a sudden decision- if Krav wasn’t on some mission he could tell you the same thing. The house we were looking at was empty before the Hunger arrived, and it got fucked up even more during the fight, so the land there is cheap. So if you want to stay with us- and I’m not asking what you think we want, I’m asking what you want- then one of the rooms will be yours.”

The tears he’s been working so hard to hold back begin to fall, so he just nods quickly. He lets Taako pull him into a hug, “I’d- I like living with you. Are you- you sure?”

“When has Taako ever lied?”

Angus just laughs, and does so even harder when he hears a pillow thwack against the back of Taako’s head (it’s a common occurrence in this house).

He feels someone approach on the side, and their hug is yanked to the side, both of them stumbling as Lup pulls them towards her, and he glances up to see Barry hovers right beside them. Taako must see him too, “Come on, Barold. Looks like it’s hug time.”

It’s awkward, and not at all very comfortable, but it’s warm. Angus’s tears have dried up, and he’s about to pull away when the familiar zip of a portal being created precedes Kravitz’s voice.

“Oh, am I interrupting?”

Taako laughs, “just missing out on a group hug.”

“Come on,” Lup speaks up now, her voice coming from just behind Angus’s ear, “it’s a family hug.”

Angus barely has time to process that when Kravitz steps forward. He’s almost as awkward as Barry, but it’s nice.

They separate eventually, Lup heads back to the kitchen to finish the food, with Barry close behind. Kravitz gives Taako a hello kiss, the two of them sitting on the couch, and from their low tones Angus can tell Taako is giving him a quick rundown of… today.

Angus see’s his book was placed on the coffee table at some point, and sits on the armchair once he grabs it, pushing Taako's discarded jacket to the side. Opening it to where he left off, the page is bent with a large crease down the center, from when he dropped it on the floor. He reads for a minute, before Taako speaks up.

“Mending should get rid of that crease, if you like.” Taako says.

Angus just smiles and shakes his head. “It just proves it’s used.”

He shrugs, looking down at his crystal, and Kravitz nudges him. It causes Taako to huff and hold out the crystal. A flyer for a recreational soccer team is displayed.

Join the new Neverwinter recreational soccer league! Ages 10-14. Help your kids make new memories and friends- Create everlasting bonds!

Angus frowns, “what’s this?”

“Soccer team. Was looking for one in the area when we started looking for potential houses to move to. Planned on signing you up.”

Tears begin to well up in his eyes again, and Angus finds himself frustrated. Not with Taako, no, of course not. Not now, not with this. But with himself, and how emotional he’s being.

Because he’s been talking about Caleb Cleveland books at Taako for so long now, and he’d always assumed he’d only been tolerating it. But Caleb Cleveland was a part of a soccer team- it wasn’t even a big part of the books. Angus has probably only mentioned it once or twice. And yet, Taako specifically looked for a soccer team and-

“Thank you, Taako!” He grins, and the way Taako’s ears are flickering, he knows he’s embarrassed.

“Just thought you could use the exercise. You know, you can’t be running around solving crimes if you can’t run.”

The smile doesn’t leave his face as he snarks back, “but sir, you never do physical training and you saved the world.”

“I just transmute my legs to be strong and fast if I need it. Or get Magnus to carry me.”

He leans further onto Kravitz, who smiles. “Or he just calls me to pick him up.”

“Exactly!”

Snuggling back into his chair, Angus holds the book close to his chest, “thank you, really, sir.”

“Come on, little dude. We’ve been over this. The ‘sir’ thing is so formal.”

“Would you prefer me to call you ‘sappy bitch’?” He turns up his fake innocent charm, the one he uses often on cases, as he says it.

Kravitz bursts out laughing, and he can hear Barry and Lup in the kitchen do the same.

Taako flares up, pointing an accusing finger at him, “who taught you that kind of fucking language!”

“I’ve always known curse words!”

“Not in my house!” Taako stands, and Angus climbs out of the chair and starts running. He knows what will happen if Taako catches him, so he runs to Barry, calling out for help.

Barry, the traitor, only holds him still so Taako can grab him and ruffle his hair. He begins yelling at Barry, cursing his name, but it’s hard to get the words out through his laughter.

Kravitz is the one who saves him, pulling him out of their arms and holding him high in the air. “Do not assault the child, please.”

Taako steps towards Kravitz, “you heard what he called me, didn’t you?”

“And he was right.”

Taako’s affronted gasp is so loud, it must scratch at his throat as he begins coughing.

Angus is giggling, kicking his dangling feet lightly in the air.

Whatever Lup is pulling off the stove smells delicious, and he cannot wait to begin eating.

As they sit down, Taako looks over at him and says, "you know, you should be careful about accepting a teaching job at Lucas's lame school. Taako here is working on a much cooler idea, and he could use a smart kid like you, if you can pass the rigorous application process."

"What is it?" Angus asks, getting excited. He hasn't heard Taako talking about anything like this.

"Top secret."

Angus laughs, "it won't be for long!"

"You're pre-emptively fired, then."

"Wait-"

[fukurodaze]

five stars: part 3 | three words

IT’S EMBARRASSING: a third year cheerleader!reader x second year athlete!suna au

wc: 4.1k warnings: swearing

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you hate mornings. 

they feel restless and empty and full of longing to have something worth waking up to. sometimes it’s hard to even get up when your mind is full and your heart is worried.

but you do not hate suna rintarou. in fact, you’ve learnt a few new things about him.

one, he has a little sister.

two, he has a nice laugh.

three, he is only “occasionally lactose intolerant”, but not if he “tries his best”.

the things you already knew - his volleyball position, birthday, grade, home town - were never brushed up on, but somehow made their way to the forefront of your memory the more time you spent with him. you began to see him as simply ‘suna’, instead of ‘the boy you helped with physics last year’.

you wonder how you ended up spending every morning of the last two weeks with him. he seems nonchalant, almost lazy, when you see him around with his teammates: back slouched and face relaxed almost all the time. yet, when you let him walk you to class, he’s talkative. he’s eager. he’s walking slowly so you can keep up.

it’s a bit of a question for you, why he’s suddenly popped up into your life once more after waking you up on an unlucky monday morning. 

(he had told you that you had slept with your eyes wide open, and it took you some time to process everything as your chest fluttered with embarrassment.)

then again, you’re not complaining.

“if you notice over here,” suna leans into your side, pointing at the phone in your hand as the two of you walk through the school, “there’s a little cockroach at the corner of the room going out.”

“oh my god,” you laugh. the video on suna’s phone displays today’s fight between the miya twins at the gym. 

it’s your third week with him.

now, as he lets you hold his phone, the literal embodiment of all the volleyball team’s blackmail material, there comes the familiar urge of yours to steal a few glances, adjust your hair, or maybe do something absurd and see how he’d react.

it’s a strange feeling. stranger than when he walked you to your classroom once and you, in your half-awake genius, slipped him a tube of your lip balm in the open pocket of his bag in case you didn’t have an excuse to see him again.

“what were they fighting about again?”

suna shrugs, “osamu was having a bad day, and atsumu got pissed, so, naturally, osamu got pissed.”

“shit. everyone was crowding around i couldn’t even see them throwing punches,” you mutter.

“anything that the twins do usually gets a crowd, really.”

you pass the phone back to him. “yeah, the twins are crazy popular. especially with the girls. they’re like idols.”

“right,” suna pockets his phone, “you’re popular too.”

your brows are furrowed. “stop it.”

suna playfully tenses his shoulders up, hands shoved in his trouser pockets, “you’re, like, the kind of person that organises the culture festival and is like the secretary for the student council.”

“i actually am.” 

“you probably are.”

you two pause when the sentences come out at the same time, and it takes no time for the two of you to laugh it out, lightly, with snickers and giggles that you’ve never really heard from his mouth. 

“you know, i finally got to watch a movie last night,” you begin, changing the conversation.

he looks at you slowly, sweetly. “oh yeah? what did you watch?”

“uh, totoro...”

he stays silent, and you find his head tilted and his eyebrows raised. he looks amused. you ask him, “what?”

“solid movie.”

there is a questioning look that you give him, and you know he sees it, pupils focused to your side. he speaks again, “you like ghibli movies?”

“yeah. i think everyone does. don’t you?”

suna looks like he’s staring down the sky, thinking. he hums, and then tells you, “i don’t.” 

now he exaggerates his normally poor posture, chin tilting up to get a view of your reaction. the two of you keep walking, in an unusual silence, and you’re left watching his eyes as they stay indifferent.

“didn’t you just say totoro was a ‘solid movie’?”

the boy looks ahead, “yeah, so?”

you click your tongue, eyes narrowing, “whatever. i don’t believe you.”

suna has a satisfied smile on his face. he makes sure you don’t know it.

the two of you enter the building, even taking extra time to go to each others’ lockers. it’s only been two weeks since he had seen you laying on the bleachers, eyes embarrassingly open; two weeks since he had walked you to class the first time; two weeks since he had really started to know you.

when you reach your classroom, suspicious eye contact from classmates and the increasingly busy hallway tell you that it’s time for him to go to class, too. he sneaks in a cynical remark, and you playfully hit him on the shoulder, for the first time.

“i’m betting you and him get together by august.” your friend, honoka, chimes in as you enter the classroom. your neighbouring seat mates agree.

you’re starting to look forward to mornings.

unbeknownst to you, suna has a deadline.

the interhigh is only a week away, and so he’s told himself that he’ll do one thing before completely shutting himself out for volleyball training: asking you out on a date.

in other words, he is fed up with the volleyball team’s rendition of his “showoff mode”. he doesn’t lift his shirt up that much!

his first strategy is the straightforward, nonchalant way. he eagerly waits for you at practice.

“hey,” suna almost chirps, feeling a skip in his step.

“hey.” your squint your eyes at the unexpected energy, “are you- are you up to something?”

suna’s ears turned beet red at your statement. he couldn’t have possibly guessed that you knew what he was about to do.

a smirk crawls onto your lips. “oh, so you are up to something…”

“yeah, right. it’s nothing.”

you slap a hand on his shoulder, “hey, i get it.”

“what?”

“i mean, whatever pranks you and your friends are up to, just try not to get expelled, ‘kay?”

suna’s shoulders relax, but his eyebrows furrow, “wait, wha-”

“the volleyball team’s up to something, no?”

suna nods cautiously, not sure if he should be relieved or sad at the miscommunication.

“anyways, thanks for waiting for me after practice. i have a some paperwork to do for the student council, so you can go on ahead,” you give him a genuine smile. he always likes to see it, but it’s a little less lovely when the thought of a failed asking-out attempt is circling his mind.

“right. bye.” suna dashes off, hand fisted in his pockets. 

he tells himself it’s a work in progress.

“what the fuck am i doing making breakfast so well,” suna mutters under his breath one morning, preparing a cut of fish in the kitchen. he doesn’t even have practice this morning, and yet he’s skimmed through the entire oven manual and has found the joys of cooking fish meat. 

he even takes some of the fish and puts it in a metallic lunch box with rice to bring to school. normally, he would settle for the canteen’s average meat buns. 

“two bentos…?” he breathes. he has an idea.

it’s not long before he’s meeting you at the bus stop. he finds you sending him a small wave and an immediate groan about how your english teacher “is the definition of a nerd-bully equilibrium, what goes on.”

he laughs along with the complaints you have, even joining along with the flow of conversation. sometimes he thinks he changes a little bit when he’s around you, but he doesn’t mind. he likes talking and laughing and enjoying his time with you without worrying about what other people say.

he’ll give you a bento, maybe, he thinks, because he’s seen lots of girls give their boyfriends bentos in the past. maybe it would even give you a nod in the right direction.

right before the school’s building entrance, he stops you and takes you by the arm. it makes your heart skip a beat, but for him, all his heartbeats are centered around the lunchboxes in his bag.

“suna, why-”

your words are cut off when you see the boy eagerly rummaging through his bag, at first with a smile and then with a worried look. his hand is in his bag for a little too long.

there was only one bento.

so he gives you a beat-up ballpoint pen. 

it’s transparent, and from the outside you can see the ink tube only one-eighth full. it looks old.

“um, it’s a good luck charm... for your english test today.” suna keeps his mouth pursed and his look unfazed.

“oh.” you smile at the absurd charm. it seems questionable at first, but you try to convince yourself to trust in it. to trust in suna.

“i know, it’s kind of… beat up, and every-” it’s clear that suna is worried, for what you don’t know, but the way he hangs his head and his other hand fumbles with the strap of his backpack is enough to tell you to accept the surpising gift.

��no, i like it. even if it doesn’t work.” your hand keeps the pen in your fists. 

“it does work, by the way.”

you chuckle, “i’ll return it after class?”

suna shakes his head, “you don’t have to. if you do well you can keep it.”

you nod an okay, and he has a tiny look of satisfaction on his face. he had thought of giving you his lunch and not eating, but he decided against it when he remembered he didn’t bring any money to school that day. temporary success, fuck yeah.

(you get a ninety-two on the test. you keep the pen.)

as a last resort, suna tries through text. at least he’s proud that the two of you have been texting for two weeks straight. he still has you under “y/l/n-senpai (physics)”, and it makes him crack a small smile under his covers from time to time.

from y/l/n-senpai (physics): 2 notifications

suna slides the notification open. it’s always a pleasant surprise.

from y/l/n-senpai (physics): just watched arrietty its a ghibli movie

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): ik hv u watched howl’s moving castle

from y/l/n-senpai (physics): yes ofc

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): well. i havent

suna runs out of words to type. he’s not sure how to phrase it...

still, by the way that you’re typing, it seemed like he hasn’t messed it up. he rolls around to the other side of his bed.

from y/l/n-senpai (physics): then go watch it… (READ)

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): let’s watch together|

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): let’s watch tog|

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): let’s|

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): let’s go on a da|

suna sighs, thumb pressing the delete button like there’s no tomorrow.

except his thumbs are big. and phone keys are small. and his train of thought has jumbled up past usual cognition.

to y/l/n-senpai (physics): lets go, toge (SENT)

suna starts to stare down the volleyball in the corner of his room, wishing it would explode on command, when another ping lights up his phone.

from y/l/n-senpai (physics): 1 notification

he makes the slowest visit to his contacts to change your display name on his phone. he wants to stall.

but he always gives in.

from y/n: whos toge? (READ)

“fuck,” he grunts, burying his head into his pillow.

out of sheer shame and fatigue of asking-out attempts, suna doesn’t see you in the morning that monday nor text you for the rest of the weekend, having left you on read every time you sent a message. he thinks that if he reverted back to the time when the only interactions with you were stray thoughts in his mind, life would go on and this too would pass. 

it’s not like you would care, right? he would tell himself.

but suna seemed to forget that you were on the cheerleading team, and that the cheerleading team shares the gym with the volleyball club on mondays and fridays, not tuesdays and thursdays like he had very cleverly remembered.

“suna!”

you call out to him that afternoon. you have your cheerleader uniform on, having received them just today, and make sure to catch him while he’s on break.

big mistake.

you knew the volleyball team was tall, but you never really expected them to be slightly off-putting, too. it seemed like one call of his name made the entire team, consisting of over twenty boys, turn their heads at you simultaneously. then they looked at suna. then they smiled.

you find in your peripheral vision a wide-eyed kita, glancing back and forth once before going back to the volleyballs and game plans even during his break. 

you put on your sweetest smile, as expected of a cheerleader who’d just recently gotten her summer cheer uniform: v-neck, sleeveless top, pleated skirt, inarizaki lettering plastered across your chest in maroon and white.

he steps in front of you, eyebrow raised, “yeah?”

“can i talk to you about something?” your hands are behind your back, body weight shifting from left to right.

he nods, and as you take him out of the gym, you hear the volleyball team cheer and a certain miya twin shout, “fuckin’ suna!”

“fuck off, atsumu!” suna voices.

outside, your smile falters. you lean against the wall of the gym.

“did i do something wrong?” you say it softly, but firmly. you see his shoulders tense up, just slightly.

“um, no?”

you squint your eyes suspiciously, “but you’ve been ignoring my texts...?”

suna rolls his eyes instinctively. he regrets it when he sees a genuine frown on your face. “dunno,” he says.

your frown persists, and you start to bite on the inside of your mouth. “well, the last thing you texted me was, uh, ‘let’s go toge’. i’m so sorry if i missed something, or if it made you feel bad, so-”

“no, don’t be sorry,” he has his hands on his hips, “i never meant to send that.”

“what do you mean?”

“it was supposed to mean something else,” he looks down, scuffing his shoes against the brick floor.

“oh, was that message not meant for me? and who’s toge? sorry if i’m-”

suna gathers himself. he opens his mouth. he says eight words.

“i meant to ask you, ‘let’s go together’.”

the conversation comes to a halt. his words ring ambiguously in your ear, and it flusters you when the first thing that comes to mind is a date with the boy. you try to shake it off.

“like- like what do you mean?” you feel sorry for having him repeat the phrase twice.

suna shrugs, “i chickened out.”

“dude, you’re not making any sense.”

there’s a sharp pang in suna’s chest, and he visibly grimaces. “did you just call me dude?”

“maybe.”

“ouch.”

“wait, so what do you mean!” your arms flail around a little too dramatically for someone as tired as you.

suna contemplates whether or not to tell you that he wanted to ask you out. by the way you’d just called him dude, he wonders if you’d rather him give you a fist bump and tell you ‘nice toss!’ instead of hold your hand and take you out on a date.

so he counts his stars and he goes for the leap.

“actually, i wanted to ask if you wanted to watch a movie together.”

you back up into the wall at his words. there’s a heat that crawls through your body and beats through your heart.

“is that what let’s go toge meant?”

he nods, shoulders relaxing, arms to his side, “let’s go, together. like- like a date.”

his words take you by surprise. still, you’re nothing but glad.

“yeah,” you lick your lips, “i’ll go. and i take back the ‘dude’”

“oh, really now?” his shoulders relax. 

you roll your eyes.

“so he asked you out, right?” honoka asks during a water break in pe class. you couldn’t say no.

“yeah, i’m going to his flat next wednesday.”

“why not today? friday?”

you pouted, head turning slowly, “stuco meeting. we have our cultural festival late october, remember?”

“ah.” honoka sips on her water bottle, “i won’t be here by then.”

“what date are you leaving again?” you try not to darken your tone, pouting at the idea of losing one of your dear middle school friends to distance. 

“august eighteenth. a month away.”

you begin to slouch on your bench. there are more classmates that come to your bench after hearing honoka telling you her leave date. ‘oh my god!’s and ‘i’m gonna miss you!’s fill the corner of the gym, and soon the whistle blows, signalling the end of your water break.

the rest of the day proceeds as normal, and yet there’s that familiar emptiness that seems to continue to fill up even more of your days.

it’s tiring.

suna’s flat is extremely well put, for some reason. you’d always passed him for a boy who simply didn’t care, but now you see him at his own place, grabbing his laptop from his desk one-handedly.

you’ll admit going to a boy’s place alone is an awkward concept in itself, but it seems like suna doesn’t pay no mind. he’s plugged in his laptop to a charger, set it on the table, and has sat himself down on a floor cushion.

it’s a relief that you don’t know how suna’s heart is almost threatening to beat out of his chest.

“what do you want to watch?” you’re quick to sit down on the floor next to him.

he shrugs, “maybe you can convince me to like ghibli.”

you tsk at his line, yet it eventually brings you an ear to ear smile. you reach over to the laptop, scrolling through netflix. “i guess we could start with howl’s moving castle?”

your head turns to him, and he nods, before standing up all of a sudden. you look at him questioningly, but you find him walking over to his kitchen and returning with two paper bags and two glasses of water. 

your eyes follow him as he rests the items down on the table and scoots back on the floor. he gestures the paper bag towards you, “popcorn. it’s salty, so i don’t know if you’re into that.”

“ah. thanks,” you smile, and he reaches over to the laptop, pressing play. 

you don’t expect the movie to be the first thing on your minds - the both of you knew this. though you and him had spent some time marvelling at the movie, you find that for every other time you dip your hand into your popcorn, a pair of eyes turns to glance at you. 

you two spend your time silently during the movie, however. your eyes have developed a habit of simply tracing suna’s figure with your eyes, and it comes in embarrassingly when he had looked back and found your attention on him instead of the laptop at one point.

you’re surprised, though, because he does seem to be paying attention to the movie, more or less, and you can hear his small hums of amusement and surprise as the movie progresses. you colour yourself proud.

suna doesn’t even touch his food nor his drink, having felt too nervous to do so. he wants to know how you’re doing, silently, but whenever he meets your eyes, he decides that he’d rather fix himself on the movie. he wonders if a date like this means holding your hand or even saying goodbye with a kiss hug.

when the movie ends you ask him why he hasn’t eaten his popcorn, and how you feel kind of bad about it, but he ends up telling you how good the movie actually was.

“i don’t believe that you don’t like ghibli movies.” you squint playfully.

there’s a grin that grows on suna’s resting face, “i never said that i was saying the truth, i just said that i didn’t like them.” 

he stands up, bringing the food and drinks on the table to his kitchen counter, and you follow him over. the realisation hits you then, “oh. oh.”

“in truth i haven’t really watched many of them so i don’t know, but, yeah.”

“it’s funny because i feel slightly played.”

“well, you’re here now, aren’t you?” 

you watch as suna reaches into his refrigerator for some eggs. he glances at you, and you’re sitting on his tiny dining table. 

“do you want an omelette?”

your eyebrows raise. your heart skips a beat at the thought of eating his cooking. you tell him, “sure.”

suna takes the time he’s faced away from you to think about what’s next. he knows that you have some kind of inclination towards him, having agreed to his explicit naming of this hangout a “date”. still, his mind wanders towards the timing: is it too early to properly confess? hasn’t he technically already confessed? the omelette flips and suna thanks the world for having it look like the prettiest one he’s ever made. 

this one’s for you, he thinks.

when you do take the omelette in your mouth, you sigh a little bit. it looks pretty - almost beautiful, in fact - but also seems to be half-half-cooked. 

you don’t care, though, because it still makes your stomach flutter thinking about the fact that he had made this with his own hands. and if it takes some half-half-cooked omelette to eat, then, hell, you’ll eat it.

it’s not all bad, though, since he offers you some rice along with the egg as well, and it eventually turns into a filling meal. you hadn’t had one of those in a while.

when you look over to the other side of the table, you find he’s already finished with your food, and normal chatter makes itself more comfortable in the confines of his small flat. this is how it’s supposed to be, you tell yourself, just meaningless banter and humorous talks.

you find yourself growing to know him even better.

“isn’t it funny, how, some weeks ago, i had only seen you as that ‘one guy i tutored last year’?” you say after the date as he walks you out of his apartment. he tells you he’ll be walking you home, and though you tell him no, you ride the bus, he says he has some extra money in his wallet for the month.

suna agrees, “yeah. i would’ve just carried on with my life.” suna lies through his teeth. he’s been through the volleyball team’s teasing for his obvious crush on you. hell, they’d even dubbed it suna’s “showoff mode” (ginjima calls it ‘beast mode’) whenever you were within a five meter radius of him. 

you tell him time flies fast, and he tells you it walks slowly. for you, getting to know suna rintarou has been something you finally look forward to after all your work. but for suna, getting to know you is something he savours every second of, remembering how he wants to make up for the times he used to pine over your unknowing self.

when the two of you get on the bus, you sit next to him, yawning. he wants to have an arm over your shoulder, or your head on his shoulder, but he doesn’t exactly know how.

“my house is actually a few stops from here.” you say. it’s already nine at night, and though you’ve spent over five hours at his flat, you don’t want to lose your time with him to sleepiness.

suna notices how you try to fight it, even having told him, “don’t worry, i usually sleep at two am everyday anyways. i’m not going to fall asleep.”

he tells you, “you shouldn’t be sleeping at two every night.”

“it is how it is.”

he chuckles, “i once got shouted at for sleeping at five in the morning during a training camp. they forced me not to train at all that day. it was-”

the bus comes to a stop and your head falls on his shoulder. he calls your name softly.

you’re asleep.

suna keeps still as the bus ride continues, remembering the stop you said was yours. he counts them - one, two, three, four, five stops - and with each, his breathing steadies. he feels like the luckiest boy in the world.

“what am i to you now?” suna’s head tilts back, whispered question dissolving into the atmosphere. he doesn’t expect an answer.

instead, your arm circles itself around his.

taglist: @maitenight​ @natszoo​ @ssuna​ @erens-piss-cleaner​ @osamus-onigiri​ @volleybloop​ @etherealiwa​ @agaashesmilktea​ @bicchaan​ @anngelllla​ @tycrackculture​ @sins-over-tragedy​ @tsumuluv​ @daichibrainrot​ @underratedmage​ @sunasexual @kenmei @daydreamingtetsu​ @sunareii​ @bebegi​ (if your url is bolded, it means i couldn’t tag you)

send an ask to be added to the taglist!

as always, thank you to roo @yooroomi for beta reading this series!

[thatasianstereotype]

Shit. I Got To Deal With This Bitch (Again). 

The third installment of my Adrien x Damian AU. 

First: Fuck. I’m Gay. 

Second: Damn, You’re Looking Fine. 

Well, would you look at that? I’m not dead after all. And this took a while to put together understatement of the fucking century. The reason is because life is a busy little shit the English language will not cooperate. I’m thinking of a scene I want to write and somehow words are lost in translating that into the computer and I end up with a white blank screen in the end. 

But moving on to the fic. At first, I was going to have the whole Gabriel-being-put-in-jail and former-friends-thing put as an aftermath because I really wanted to write Marinette and Adrien meeting the Waynes. But I decided to make the aftermath a full-blown fic from @michaelshadow7779′s ideas and extend the trilogy into a four-part series. 

This part will be focused on what happened to Liar-la, Ms. Bustier’s class trying to gain back their friendship with Marinette and Adrien, and Gabriel getting a special visit from both Robin and Ladybug. 

Again, this is a crack writing where creative liberties were definitely taken. 

.

.

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Lila Rossi is a fucking bitch and everyone —Like everyone this time— knew it. 

Her reputation was now in shambles (she’s now known as that pathological liar or that lying bitch) and Ms. Bustier’s class could only stare at her with hatred and anger —feelings that were once directed at Marinette. 

No one entertained her lies anymore. No one really hung out with her anymore. She sat at the back of the class, staring daggers at both Adrien and Marinette all day (just wishing for an akuma that will never appear).

Unfortunately for her, Lila couldn’t transfer out of class and with only 2 more months of the school year left, she couldn’t transfer out of school so she was stuck dealing with the consequences of her actions: being a fucking social outcast.

Because the class was not at all happy with their supposed friend. Tensions ran high during school. Things took a turn for the worse when Ms. Bustier tried to “fix” things in her own way, mentioning how the only reason Lila lied was because of her “disease” and the girl simply wanted to make friends. 

Needless to say, the class did not appreciate their teacher making them out to be fools all this time. 

It was Alya who ripped her a new one. Césaire definitely has a set of lungs on her. And Adrien would be lying if he didn’t say how utterly satisfying it was to watch.

Karma was a bitch. 

Payback was a bitch. 

And Adrien was fucking living in the aftermath. He wondered if it was mean (probably but he didn’t care) that he wished he had popcorn right now. 

All in all, life returned back to normal. 

Well, kind of. 

.

Unfortunately, with the 2 months left in the school year, Ms. Bustier couldn’t exactly be let go because apparently Mr. Damocles didn’t want to deal with the whole paperwork, trying to find a new teacher to replace her, and dealing with the so-called Akuma class. 

That fucker. 

So essentially, he left her at the mercy of her unhappy class, saying she will be let go at the end of the school year. 

Ms. Bustier was unhappy with the arrangement. The class was unhappy with it too. Probably even more so. Since they still got to deal with Rossi’s bitch ass on a daily basis. 

The remaining 2 months of school were spent in a passive-aggressive war. Teacher vs. Students. Where technically the teacher should be respected and they should learn from her but the class was unleashing their collective pettiness. 

And Caline Bustier was fucking done with this job. She wanted to go back in time to when she thought being a teacher was a good idea and shake her past self silly. At this point, she was just counting the days until she can leave for good. 

“Kim. That’s the third time you slept in class this week. If you don’t pay attention, you won’t pass the test next week.” 

“Hold up. I got to ask the certified pathological liar where I put all the fucks I give.” 

“Ok. Don’t forget to ask Marinette if you can actually trust her answer.” 

It was glorious. 

Adrien and Marinette were definitely enjoying the show. 

.

Marinette put down her sketchbook and stared at Damian for a minute. “You’ve been here for a month and a half already. Are you still doing business for your dad?” 

Damian Wayne became a common sight around Françoise Dupont High School and can usually be seen around Adrien and Marinette. After a week of constantly seeing him hang around lunch or in after school activities/clubs, seeing a Wayne soon lost its novelty and people accepted it as the new norm.

“I’m already done with what I need to do at WE’s Paris branch.” He casually plucked flowers from the ground to make a crown for his mon amour who was happily chatting with Luka and Kagami.

“So why are you still here? Don’t you have your own education to finish?”

“My schooling is of no concern. I already earned my diploma a few months ago. It was not at all difficult when I’m already light years ahead of my peers in regards to the dismal educational system my Father forced me to attend."

She raised an unamused eyebrow. “Uh huh. And your family isn’t worried at all about you, a minor, being in a foreign country all by yourself?” 

“They know I’m here. I already informed Father that I will be extending my stay here.”

“And he just accepted it? Just like that?”

"I’m responsible enough to handle myself. I surely do not need Batman watching over me. And you don’t need to worry at all. I’ve been away from home for far longer.”

“You’re completely missing the point.”

“On the contrary, I thought I answered the question perfectly.”

.

When they weren’t playing a petty war with Bustier, the class was trying to get back into Marinette and Adrien’s good graces by inviting them to everything and trying to include the pair in their lives again. They wanted to be friends with their Everyday Ladybug and Sunshine Child again. 

“Want to do homework together?”

“How about a study session?” 

“We’re having a sleepover at Juleka’s place, Marinette. We can talk about each other’s love lives like the good old times.” 

“Wanna see the new movie that came out, Adrien? I’ll even pay for your favorite snacks.”

“Come on you two. Let’s hang out in the park. We can get Andre’s ice cream too. It’ll be fun.” 

Spoiler alert: It don’t work. At all. 

.

“Hey Marinette, Adrien! Why don’t you sit with us today?” Alya eagerly waved at them from where she was sitting with Nino. 

It was a part of a long list of efforts that the class is trying to include the pair in. And it would be nice if it was just to be nice and friendly, you know. Adrien wasn’t going to be outright mean to them even though they fucking deserve it after how they treated the beautiful and kind goddess that was Marinette because Mari asked him to “Play nice, kitty”. 

But the class kept trying to slide the whole Liar-la thing under the rug as if it was nothing. As if they didn’t shit all over their good name for a two-faced bitch. As if they had no part in making them feel like outcasts just weeks before. As if they didn’t called them hateful names or gave them scornful glares. 

And that’s just fucking wrong. Because it wasn’t nothing. And they weren’t good pals anymore. So stop fucking acting like it. 

Adrien was so done with his former friends/classmates. Marinette even more so. 

Because apparently, saying “Yeah, We want nothing to do with you anymore.” is not fucking clear enough that the pair wanted nothing to do with their former friends. 

Like what the actual fuck. 

Luckily, Mari can sense her kitty’s bad mood and quickly laid a hand on his arm and led them to their seats in the middle row since Liar-la took the back and they will be damned if they sit next to her. 

Alya was utterly aghast. She and the others were trying their best to have things be back to where they were before. Doesn’t Marinette and Adrien want things to be like they were before? When everyone was friends and they were making happy memories together? 

Why won’t they accept their olive branch? They’ll be friends again and everything will be okay just like it was before Lila came. 

Let it be known that Alya Césaire was not a patient person. Like at all. 

She was fuming (like you could see the smoke coming out of her ears) as she walked up to Marinette’s desk, just bursting at the seams with frustration. “I don’t get it. Why are you so cosy with Adrien instead of us? Did you forget he supported Lila too? 

“That was—” Marinette spoke up in defense of her everything-that-actually-matters brother. 

But Alya ignored her and bulldozed right over, slamming her hands down on her desk. “Yeah. He changed his mind later on but the point still stands that he was on Lila’s side just like us so why are you willing to be friends with him but not me and Nino? We were best buds.” 

“Adrien was friends with Lila unwillingly, unlike you guys. His douchebag of a father wanted him to play nice with that harlot for some reason and he had to go along with it or risk being pulled out of school.” 

Alya rolled her eyes (She literally rolled her eyes at that) before crossing her arms in front of her chest. “Please. That’s probably a pretty little excuse he gave you be on your good side again. We all know Gabriel will never actually do it.”  

“Are you perhaps referring to the man who rejected the idea of a birthday part for his own son or makes Adrien attend constant photo shoots and a crazy schedule to follow that makes it hard for him to hang out with his friends regularly. That Gabriel?” 

At that, Alya faltered a bit as she uncrossed her arms. 

“Look, Alya. I’m fine with being friendly classmates but I’m not going to be your friend again.” 

And Alya —who wanted things to just be okay again and wanted to go back to being Marinette’s best friend, who was tired of days trying to put so much effort into being Marinette’s best gal again only to be rejected every single time— just let whatever came into her mind to slip out of her mouth. She didn’t watch what she said next and in doing so burnt the last bridge she ever had to Marinette. 

“Maybe Lila was actually right for once when she said the only reason you’re close to Adrien was to use him to get ahead in the fashion industry.” 

Oh shit. 

She really done did it now. 

It was at this point that Marinette’s infinite patience and kindness snapped. Adrien scooted his chair back a bit to get out of the crossfire. He’s a dumbass kitty but he still has self-preservation. 

The grip on her pencil tightened as her eyes narrowed and grew darker, her voice ice cold.  

“You were the one who decided we were done being friends, Césaire.” 

Alya was taken aback, frozen at the biting harshness Marinette directed at her. Whatever comeback she had died in her throat. 

Mari let out a deep breath and her voice was back to neutral. “Look. Maybe someday in the future we can be friends again. But not right now. Please respect my decision.”

And that was the end of that. 

Well kind of. 

Because the ice queen treatment didn’t deter her at all. Alya still persistently tried to get Marinette to be friends with her again until Nino pulled her away and forced her to stop it with her ridiculous antics which aren’t working. 

The rest of their former friends now classmates got the message and left the pair alone. They were friendly and cordial with each other as common courtesy dictate but they had no interaction beyond that. They were nowhere near as close as they once were before Liar-la happened. 

Anyway, school went back to normal. Well as normal as it could be with all the recent changes.

Nothing was as it was before. 

And Marinette and Adrien were fine with that. 

.

Mari was hanging out with Aurore and Mireille for the afternoon so Damian and Adrien had Mari’s room all to themselves. They were currently playing video games. 

And although the Wayne boy was the perfect gentleman who doesn’t let his hormones rule over common courtesy and a proper courtship, Plagg was there to supervise the lovebirds (with a boatload of cheese to keep him company of course). 

He likes to think of himself as laid back and chill who cares deeply about his kittens. And Adrien is a pure innocent little bean. 

Don’t get him wrong. He does like Wayne as a person. The kid’s attitude and personality is a fun riot to witness. But the major plus is how it is beyond obvious Wayne adores and cares greatly about Adrien. He is a good boyfriend to his chaotic gay sunshine baby. 

But after all the shit and drama that went down with his scumbag of a dad, Plagg was just feeling a tad protective of his kitty. 

Just a tad. 

.

They have been dating for close to a month now. He wonders if they are going to do a one-month anniversary. Is that excessive? Or was that normal? But Adrien still can’t get over how he landed such a hot and amazing guy as a beau. 

If only he could go back in time to visit his insecure and confused little self and reassure him that they had game all along. 

“Fuck. I lost.” 

Dami smirked. “That makes it 7 to 5 in my favor.” 

“I don’t care if you’re drop dead gorgeous. I’ll beat your pretty face in the next round.” 

Hot-And-Sexy had an amused grin on his face. “I love you too, babe.” 

.

Marinete and Damian are finally making a plan to get Hawk Moth to answer for his crimes. Needless to say, they have their differences on how to handle Gabriel Agreste.

“I vote to have Hawk Moth taste my blade.”

“We’re not killing Adrien’s dad no matter how much he deserves it.”

“I can get away with it.”

“So can I. But murder is still illegal.”

Naturally, discussing how to confront Gabriel and coming with a good solid plan that satisfies both teenagers took some time.

.

Adrien entered Mari’s room, humming a bit as he carried a tray filled with homemade snacks. He perked up seeing his two favorite people in the world getting along so well.

“Hey guys! What are you up to?”

Damian and Marinette glanced at each other for a split second. They didn’t want their Chaton to worry about Hawk Moth so they didn’t share any specifics.

It was Dami who spoke up. “We are discussing the legalities of assassination.”

Mari facepalmed.

Luckily, Adrien was a pure oblivious child. “That’s nice, babe.”

.

With all the strange things he’s seen (namely, the Miraculous and getting powers from tiny little talking animals), Gabriel will like to say he shouldn’t be surprised. 

But he was. 

Luckily, he had enough self-control to not show his surprise in an obvious way, just a raised eyebrow towards the two superheroes standing in the middle of his office. 

“To what do I owe the pleasure, Mademoiselle Ladybug and Monsieur Robin?” Pleasant and neutral. 

Ladybug he can kind of understand her presence. He is a supervillain after all. Wait. Maybe ex-supervillain now. Because he hasn’t been doing villain things for a while now since he misplaced Nooroo’s brooch and couldn’t find it no matter how many boxes of unsold Miraculous replicas he went through. And he went through a lot (that is not an understatement). Amazing how much free time he has when he isn’t stalking on the watch for negative feelings. 

But what was Robin doing here? He wasn’t aware the Gotham sidekick was in Paris in the first place. 

“We are aware of your alter ego, Hawk Moth.” 

He sighed internally. This wasn’t going to end well. But he hasn’t gotten this far by bowing down easily. 

“Just because I am a genius recluse does not mean I have supervillain tendencies.” 

Ladybug was unimpressed as she crossed her arms and stare at him with a deadpan look. “But you do have supervillain tendencies. I have yours and Nathalie’s miraculous who told us all about your plans.” 

Huh, no wonder he couldn’t find them. 

But anyway, the gig was up. Nooroo and Duusu were very emotional blabbermouths. The main reason why he couldn’t let them out of his sight —besides needing them to transform into bad guys of course. 

“Then you know I had a good reason why I became Hawk Moth.” 

“To bring your wife back. Yes, I am aware of your ‘master’ plan.” 

Maybe he can appeal to their sympathy. After all, heroes got to have empathy, right? “It was for Adrien’s sake to have his family back together.”

Apparently, that was the wrong thing to say. 

Because next thing he knew he had a razor sharp sword against his neck. He didn’t even see Robin move. 

“Do not speak of his name, you traitor scum.” The Gotham hero growled. “How dare you preach about your son’s happiness when you are the one who have been neglecting him for the past years. Do not say you care for the boy when you never once showed an ounce of love towards him.” 

Why is Robin so protective towards Adrien? Do they know each other well? 

But Gabriel’s questions were immediately banished to the back of his mind. Because right now, he was righteously fearing for his life. Prison sounded better than death. He glanced towards Ladybug. He knew she, at least, wouldn’t let him die. She was the picture perfect hero after all. 

Who was facepalming at the situation. “For the last time, we are not killing Agreste.” 

Unfortunately, Robin did not remove the sword. “And as I keep saying, no one will have to know.” 

“I will. I am literally standing right here as a witness.” 

“You may look away if you are squeamish.”

“...That’s not the problem.” It was time for Ladybug to pull out the big guns. “And if you go through with this, you will make your boyfriend cry and he will no longer want to date you.” 

It took a few seconds but Robin eventually lowered the sword and addressed Gabriel. “Do not presume that because you have no received death today that you do not deserve it. The only reason why your guts have not decorated this room is because I do not wish to make my mon amour shed tears for such a despicable man.” 

Ladybug spoke up next. “We are going to report you to the authorities. Robin and I have enough evidence to put you away for life.” 

To live for another day, Gabriel makes the smart choice of quickly surrendering right then and there. 

.

“Mon amour, I come bearing both good and bad news.” 

Adrien looked at Dami confused. “Okay? What’s the bad news?”

“Your sister have unfortunately stopped my attempt to slay your wicked father.” 

Aww. 

Adrien’s squishy little heart filled with endearing fondness at how much Hot-And-Sexy cared about him. 

“Killing my father isn’t worth going to jail, Dami. I’m sure you can pull off orange but Mari will probably bar me from ever visiting you to teach you a lesson.”  

He considered that for a moment. “That is true. Marinette is a frightening terror.” 

“She’s the greatest thing to happen to me.”Adrien swooned at his goddess before remembering his boyfriend was with him. “You’re a very close second.” 

But Dami was smiling fondly. “I know. I knew what I was getting into when I asked you out. I will never get in the way between your sibling bond.” 

Aww. 

He could feel his squishy little heart almost explode from all this sugary cuteness from his vain and egotistical Adonis.  

“You’re adorable. So what’s the good news you have for me?” 

“Marinette and I have finally dealt with your father. He will answer for his crimes in front of the Parisian authorities and you will not deal with the repercussions of being related to someone as vile as he.” 

“Does this mean I don’t have to legally change my name to Dupain-Cheng after all?” 

“You’re already one. Not sharing their name does not make you any less of one.” 

Adrien beamed, smiling brighter than any sun. He loved being part of the Dupain-Cheng family and it was nice to be acknowledged as one of them. 

“Of course. Being a Wayne is an honor too.” Damian said casually as if he was simply talking about the weather. Only the twitch of his fingers belied his nervousness. 

Adrien interlocked their fingers together. “You have to buy me a pretty ring first, Mr. Hot-And-Sexy.” 

.

The next week was kind of crazy to say the least. 

Gabriel Agreste was outed as Hawk Moth and Natalie as Mayura to the public. They were promptly put in jail. 

For all their contingency plans, Marinette and Damian had nothing to worry about after all. Adrien being a literal sunshine and Paris’ darling model was what saved him from being a pariah and outcast. The public knew that Adrien was the victim here and not part of Hawk Moth’s plans at all (Be serious. Can you imagine Sunshine child actually having an evil streak in him? No? That’s right. Because it is impossible). People were more sympathetic about Adrien having such a douchebag as a father than the possibility that he was evil like said douchebag. 

After that whole drama mess, Ladybug and Chat Noir announced their retirement to Paris’ dismay. But eh. Without akumas running around, they can leave Paris’ future to the police (since it’s you know, their job to keep the peace and not teenagers who is still winging it as they kick ass). 

Marinette and Adrien just wanted to focus on their future without any other crazy shenanigans.

He already said it before. But it still bears repeating.

Lila Rossi is a bitch.

The only thing Gabriel did right was throw her under the bus when he was caught. He told the police and superheroes how Lila helped him cause akumas with her lies and manipulation. Who knew her destroyed reputation could plummet even further? Understandably, her mother was not at all pleased with her daughter’s antics.

For being a terrorist and an indecent person, Lila was immediately arrested and deported to Italy (and that’s the last they ever heard of her thank everything Mari thinks is holy). 

.

With the whole Hawkmoth thing out of the way and he didn’t have to worry about his shitty dad ever again, Adrien can now focus on his biggest challenge yet. 

School will be over in a few days and summer will be here. Which means: It’s time to finally meet the Waynes. 

Oh fuck. He was going to meet the Batfam. 

And even though Dami assured him that his family will like him, he was still nervous. 

Fuck that. He was absolutely 100% freaking out!

Thank goodness Mari was coming along for the ride. 

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Taglist:

@iglowinggemma28

[kirishibi]

Kindred Spirits | Bubaigawara Jin (Twice)

My contribution to the BNHArem flowers collab!

Flower: White Chrysanthemum, meaning loyalty and devoted love 

Summary: you were born with a quirk that allows you to temporarily take other peoples’ emotions, though it makes it nearly impossible to create your own. every day, you sit out on city sidewalks hoping for people to let you borrow their unwanted emotions. Used to only feeling things like guilt, shame, and disappointment, you find yourself pleasantly surprised when a kind stranger comes along and donates happiness

Pairing: Bubaigawara Jin (Twice)  x Reader

Warnings: No manga spoilers! jin smoking a cigarette, light cursing, pining, brief angst (hurt/comfort), sickeningly sweet fluff

Word Count: 4.1k

a/n: this is officially the longest single piece i’ve ever written and my back is feeling it. i’m so excited to have been able to participate in this collab, especially since I got to write one of my all time favorite characters! thank you so much @jojosmilktea​ for making the masterlist - you did a great job!

You sat against the brick wall of a quaint boutique in one of the busiest areas of the city, a frayed cardboard sign in your hands and rusted tin can beside your feet. The neat, permanent marker words on your sign read, ‘will take unwanted emotions for $’. 

Your practice wasn’t entirely legal since you didn’t have a license, but with villain activity rising rapidly in the area, you were the least of the local authorities’ worries. Your tin only held enough change for a protein bar from the corner store and your muscles ached, stiff from sitting in the same spot all day, yet you told yourself to wait a little longer. Maybe you’d get lucky. 

A bus rolled by, on its side an advertisement for some hero school at the edge of town, the tagline: ‘You, too, are destined for greatness!’ plastered in bold letters beside a photo of comically fake, smiling heroes. You couldn’t help but scoff as you watched the bus round a corner and disappear from sight, remembering the vain hope you held as a child seeing similar advertisements on T.V. Back then, you truly believed you would become a hero once you got your quirk - in fact, most kids your age did, excitedly awaiting the day they’d discover their unique “super power”. 

On your fourth birthday, your quirk came in and tore away any hope you had for the life of a hero. That day, you discovered that you could steal whatever emotion someone was feeling with the touch of your fingertips, taking it for yourself and leaving them without until your quirk wore off. The catch, however, was that it became incredibly difficult for you to feel any emotion without stealing it from someone else. 

Your quirk had a habit of activating involuntarily, so at a young age you began to wear gloves. It wasn’t long before rumors spread around your school that you were secretly a witch, or cursed, and you were bullied relentlessly from afar for the majority of your early life. 

The treatment only worsened as you grew to adulthood. 

In your world where heroes and super powers were commonplace, if your quirk was problematic or - god forbid - nonexistent, you were nothing but a stain on society, a weed in need of pulling. As a kid, you were reluctant to learn this fact, so life beat it into you. You learned a harsh reality very quickly - emotions became addicting once you were unable to feel them by yourself, and in desperate times, even the bad ones were better than nothing. Anything was better than nothing. Hardships hit you in waves until you had nowhere else to go, finding solace in a ramshackle apartment in the middle of the city, begging for unwanted feelings with a side of cash during the day, spending all night searching for a job on the web. 

Without a useful quirk, wealthy upbringing, or a desire to turn to villainy, this was your place in society. 

After around half an hour, you stood from your spot on the pavement with a disappointed huff, stretching your aching muscles for a moment before crouching to collect your things. “Excuse me!” A gruff voice called out from behind you, the words “Hey, bitch!” following closely after, without pause for you to respond. You thought you heard the person whisper a quiet ‘sorry’ before you whipped around, startled. 

You found a tall, blonde man standing at the edge of the sidewalk, his hands shoved in patched jean pockets and his broad shoulders hunched sheepishly, as if he wanted to occupy as little space as possible. The man shifted nervously while you looked him up and down. A large, vertical scar ran up the center of his forehead to just shy of his hairline, and dark blond stubble dotted his sharp jaw. The faint frown lines bordering his lips and creasing the space between his brows told you he’d likely endured a life similar to yours. Most people who spent their time on these streets had, and after a while the signs became easy to spot.

You cocked your head slightly to the side, raising a brow. “Can I help you?” You responded curtly. Living in such an unpredictable area had certainly not made you any kinder. 

“You have an emotion quirk, right?  I, uh, saw the sign. ‘was wondering if I could donate.” His gaze evaded yours even as he spoke, the man instead opting to watch as his frayed sneakers anxiously toed the ground.

You bent down, grabbing your change-filled tin from the sidewalk and jangling the coins within, wordlessly telling him your service wasn’t free. He stepped closer, huddling at the inner edge of the sidewalk with you, hugging the wall so as not to block the path of those trying to pass by. He pulled a crumpled two thousand yen bill from his pocket and handed it over with a timid smile. To any of the businessmen who walked by, the cash would have been no more than pocket change, but to you, it was a fortune. 

Your expression must have shown just how much his payment meant to you, as the man's smile grew wider, stretching to crease the corners of his eyes. He didn’t say anything, only watched as you stuffed the bill into your pocket for safekeeping, slipped off one of your tattered, cotton gloves and held out a bare palm. “Can I see your hand? It only works through touch.” As he slid a hand out of his pocket, you recited the same speech you gave to all of your customers: “Bring forth whichever emotion you’d like me to take from you - really make yourself feel it. I don’t get to choose what I take, so whatever’s at the forefront of your mind is what will be transferred. Effects can last anywhere between three to four hours. Oh, and no refunds. Any questions?”

He reached for your hand, but hesitated, his fingers hovering just shy of yours as he timidly asked. “Is any emotion okay, good or bad?”

You sighed, “Yeah, I don’t judge. Whatever it is, it’s better than nothing.” 

He nodded and laid a heavy, calloused palm atop your own. You braced yourself for what you had grown used to - feelings of disappointment, shame, anger, hopelessness; the most common feelings of the dejected businessmen who worked in the area and passed your spot regularly. 

As your quirk took effect, however, you didn’t experience any of those things. You felt the corners of your lips pulling into a grin entirely on their own, a joyous giggle bubbling in your throat and spilling from you before you could halt it. Your hands flew to your face, feeling your cheeks as they flushed pink from excitement. “Wh-what?” Was all you could manage in your surprised, giddy state. It had been months- no- years since you’d felt this way.

The man’s kind smile remained, though it no longer spread to his eyes. Like you, he seemed used to faking it. “I knew a kid with an emotion quirk growin’ up. He was a total loser. Uh- it made it harder for him to feel stuff on his own, so I wanted to...” He paused for a moment before timidly continuing, his next word hanging in his mouth as if unfamiliar to his lips “help. Just in case it was the same for you, ya ugly hoe.” With his joy depleted, embarrassment quickly took its place. The man’s teeth found his bottom lip as if to keep himself from saying more, and you thought you could see a faint blush spread along his cheekbones as he turned to leave. 

You were startled by the way his tone shifted so quickly, yet his actions had been kind. You couldn’t help but think, maybe his quirk knocked a few screws loose in his head, too. Much to your surprise, you found yourself wanting to talk to him more, or at least pay him back in some way, but the man had donated joy, not courage. 

“Thank you, sir!” was all you could manage as he made his way deeper into the city, the distance between you growing with each step. 

He waved in acknowledgement before pocketing his hand once again and turning off into a darkened alley.

---

For the first time in as long as you could remember, you awoke the next day feeling refreshed. You felt a slight bounce in your step as you made your way to your typical spot, treating yourself to a cold drink from the cafe along the way. Thanks to the kind stranger from the night before, you could finally afford a refreshing beverage to fend off the ever intensifying heat outside.

You didn’t quite know why, but the sun seemed to shine a little brighter as it rose along the horizon, the colors that sunrise painted across the skyline more vibrant than previous mornings. 

Your day went by fast, and soon enough dusk began to fall. The street lights surrounding you kicked on, signaling that it was once again time for you to pack up and return home. You stood, gathered your things, and turned to begin your journey back to your apartment when a vaguely familiar voice caught your attention, “Hey, wait up- get outta here!” 

It was him. 

You turned on your heel toward the sound of his voice, almost as surprised as when he showed up the night before. “You’re back?”

“Yeah, is that okay? Got a problem with me or somethin’?!” You watched him wince as the second set of words passed his lips. He gritted his teeth, shoulders tensing. Like before, he preferred to watch the ground between you rather than meet your gaze.

“It’s fine.” He glanced back up at the sound of your voice, and you flashed him a reassuring smile. The tension in his shoulders seemed to fade if only for a moment. “My regulars just tend to be angry white-collar businessmen, not, ya know...” You let your words trail off, unsure how to finish.

“Not people like you?” He filled in the blanks with ease, and you nodded in agreement. 

A comfortable silence spread between you for a moment before he cleared his throat, pulling another creased bill from his pocket. You realized your hands were too full to take the cash and moved to set your things down on the pavement, but the man reached out a tentative palm, “I can hold your sign for ya. I don’t wanna. I won’t take it. I will. I- I just don't want it gettin’ all dirtied up if it’s your only one.”

You hesitated, “You don’t have to be so nice. I’ve lived here long enough to handle myself.” 

“I believe you. Doubt it! But what kinda guy would I be if I didn’t try ta help out a sweet lady like you?”

His genuine kindness was entirely unexpected, but you saw no reason to be distrustful. After all, what use could he have for old, water damaged cardboard. You looked him over once more before handing him the already filthy sign and taking his payment with a newly emptied hand. You stuffed it in your pocket, slid off your glove, and held out an open palm like before. “Need me to debrief you again?”

“Yes, please!” His words betrayed him as he shook his head ‘no’. “I got it, thanks.”

Suddenly, you were grateful that you had figured out which of his voices to listen to, and which to ignore. He rested a large palm against your own. A second later, you felt sparks of joy ignite a fire within your chest. The blond’s touch suddenly felt pleasantly electric on your skin, and you allowed your hand to linger in his, reluctant to pull away. 

Glancing back up, you realized that he had been watching you. The tender warmth in his gaze never left as he slowly, hesitantly slipped his fingers from yours. He reached into his jeans’ back pocket, revealed a half empty pack of cigarettes, “Got time for a smoke?”

You began to refuse on instinct, but the words caught at the tip of your tongue. Again, you found that you didn’t want to part with him quite yet. Something about him caught your interest, generous donations aside. A finger tapped your chin as you pretended to ponder your decision, then shrugged, “Yeah, I think I’ve got some time.”

Shoulder to shoulder, you propped yourselves against the boutique’s wall. He offered a cigarette, to which you declined with a slight shake of your head. When you reached to take your sign back so that he could focus on lighting up, he simply swatted your hand away and tucked it under his arm. “Aye, let me be a gentleman. It’s mine!” 

Your chest felt fuzzy, heart fluttering. There was something beneath your good mood, something heavy and intoxicating that you’d never felt before, but you didn’t dislike it. Quite the opposite, in fact.  “You’re weird” you teased. 

“You’re weird” he responded without skipping a beat. There was another brief pause as he lit his cigarette, then spoke again “So, what’s your name, weirdo?”

You giggled, playfully jabbing an elbow to his side at the title, and he laughed with you. It had a deep, melodic timbre to it, hearty, disarming, and beautiful. You wondered how sweet the sound would be under normal circumstances, without your quirk draining him. “(Y/n). What’s yours?”

“None o’ ya business!” He rolled his eyes at himself, frustrated, then took a long drag from his cigarette. “Bubaigawara. You can call me Jin, though.”

“Jin Bubaigawara” You repeated his full name slowly, savoring the way it felt on your tongue, and grateful to finally be able to call him something other than ‘sir’.

“Sounds prettier coming from you, but yeah that’s it.”

At his words, warmth crept up your neck, dusting your cheeks a rosy pink, and tugging the edges of your lips into a shy smile. 

Jin felt different from the people you grew up with. He looked at you with eyes entirely void of judgement or distrust, and even if only for a moment, he made you feel like someone understood -- like someone cared.

Hours passed as you talked about everything, yet nothing in particular. The two of you took turns just chatting, occasionally asking questions back and forth. You told one another of how you discovered your quirks, shared stories from school, spoke of your families, or lack thereof. He didn’t explain the scar on his forehead, nor his split speech, but you didn’t think to ask, either. They were a part of him, made him who he was, and you realized that night that you really liked who he was.

---

For the most part, your days passed as they always did, with little business in the mornings and a few agitated corporate underlings stopping by around lunchtime to rid themselves of the bitter frustration their coworkers gave rise to. However, during your long periods of downtime, your thoughts began to wander. 

Typically, they wandered to Jin. 

Often, as you got bored, you found yourself scanning passing crowds for a tall blond with tired yet kind eyes, sighing disappointedly when you couldn’t find him. As much as your quirk numbed you to most things, you weren’t entirely immune to simpler feelings, like the soft pang of missing someone or the nervous quickening of your heartbeat when you finally spotted him at the end of the day. You couldn’t deny that your draw to him only grew with each nightly rendezvous and slowly, butterflies began to appear in your chest even long after the effects of your quirk had worn off. You found yourself counting the minutes until he came to see you at the end of the day, and feeling melancholy when you parted ways late in the evening.

You had never been able to feel something without taking it from someone else first, but bit by bit that began to change.

---

One night a little over a week after you first met, Jin was ten minutes late to meet you - concerning, considering how punctual he’d always been until then. 

When he did show up, he seemed agitated as he tried to make conversation, and the moment his eyes met yours, you knew something was wrong. “Jin?” You questioned. Though he’d been slowly breaking the habit as you got to know one another, his gaze once again glued itself to the ground. He gnawed on his bottom lip as he desperately tried to avoid eye contact. You moved closer and bent down slightly, forcing yourself into his line of sight though he tried to evade. Only then did you notice he’d been biting his lip so hard it had swelled, threatening to bleed. “Jin, are you okay?” 

For the first time in your life, you felt genuine concern.

“Back off, bitch!” He clasped a hand over his mouth the moment the words flew past his lips, his eyes brimming with tears. “I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry, I-” His voice broke as he repeated the words over and over again. “I can't help it. Yes I can. I don’t mean it. I’ll hurt you. Gah- damn it, shut the hell up, wontcha?!” He yelled at no one in particular. 

You took a cautious step back to give him space, though you had no intention of running. You knew how it felt to find yourself stuck in a losing battle against your own mind. No matter what he said, you weren’t about to leave. Not like everyone else had left both of you.

Without a second thought, you reached out, entwining gloved fingers with his and tugging him down the sidewalk. He followed without hesitation, clutching your hand so tightly you thought it may break. You pulled him into a narrow alleyway for privacy, and the moment no one else was around, he hurriedly reached into his pocket, fishing out a two-toned mask. “Shit, I- I’m splitting up! I’m fine! I’m splitting all up- I love it!” Hot tears streamed down his cheeks as his bloodshot eyes finally found yours. “I’m splitting, (Y/n), you don’t understand I’m sp-!”

You put two and two together fairly quickly and swiped the mask from his trembling grasp, roughly tugging the skin-tight material over his head and down onto most of his face. You rattled off a stream of apologies as you helped him unceremoniously slide it the rest of the way on, certain you were pulling tufts of hair along with the fabric.

The moment his mask was fully in place, Jin exhaled a sigh of relief and dropped to the ground. You pushed away the countless questions racking your brain, instead forcing yourself to focus on the man before you. You lowered to sit beside him and placed a gentle hand on his back. Your thumb lightly rubbed the space between his shoulder blades as you sat together on the damp asphalt, barely noticing as small droplets of old rain periodically dribbled onto your shoulders from an overhead windowsill. 

You didn’t have to wait long before he turned his attention back to you, shifting so you were face to face and cupping your cheeks with calloused palms. “You’re an angel! Marry me!” he excitedly exclaimed. You leaned into his touch despite the confusion clouding your thoughts, and suddenly you found yourself grateful your quirk only transmitted through your fingertips. 

You didn’t know exactly what you were feeling in that moment - worry, adoration, compassion, panic - the lines between them all blurred together in your head, but it didn’t matter. The feelings were there, and they were yours. 

Without a second thought, you threw your arms around Jin. He gladly reciprocated, nearly knocking you off balance as he wrapped you in a tight hug. “Sorry, that musta’ been real scary for ya, huh?”

You shook your head ‘no’ against his strong shoulder, “You’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to scare me.” He chuckled weakly at your words, and you reluctantly pulled away to meet his gaze once more. “Are you okay? I mean-” you sighed, “that was a dumb question, but you know what I mean, right? Do you need anything? Water, juice?” 

“Juice! Stop stressin’! I’m fine now - when the mask is on, I become whole again! Good as new, see?” He flexed a bicep theatrically. The mask obscured his smile, but the slight squint at the bottoms of his eyes told you he was grinning from ear to ear. You nodded, letting out a breath that you didn’t know you had been holding in.

Hesitantly, you asked the next question on your mind: “Does that happen often?”

The man in front of you shrugged much too nonchalantly for the situation. “Most of the time I’m wearin’ the mask, so I don’t really gotta worry.”

Your brow furrowed. “I’ve never seen you in it before.”

“Duh, I always take it off to visit ya!” You cocked a brow questioningly, and he took the hint to elaborate further. “First time was an accident. You just caught my eye when I was on a walk without it, and I wanted to help ya out a bit ‘cause of that one guy from school.” He shook his head slightly, still smiling. “You’re so pretty, though - especially when you’re happy - I just had to come back. But you’d already seen me without the mask, so I jus’ took it off when I went to see ya.”

Whether his intention or not, Jin’s words forced a smile onto your face. The butterflies in your chest buzzed to life as he locked his fingers with yours, squeezing happily when he saw the blush on your cheeks. “The mask wouldn’t have changed a thing about how you make me feel, dummy!” you confessed before you could talk yourself out of it. “You’re still you-.” 

Not willing to let go of your hand, Jin dragged it along with his as he raised an index finger to halt your statement. “Did ya just say ‘feel’? You’re feeling things now? An’ you didn’t tell me?!” 

“I didn’t want to interrupt what was going on with you!” You argued, giggles dampening your fake-serious tone.

“Silence, woman! That’s amazing!” He leapt to his feet, pulling you up with him and twirling you around in a circle. The happy tune of your combined laughter bounced off the brick alley walls, only serving to make you laugh harder before he halted you with an embrace. “Good job, you!”

“Good job, you!” You chimed back.

---

Your routine continued normally the next day. The street lamps flicked on at dark and, like clockwork, you spotted Jin in the distance. Unlike previous nights, though, this time he seemed to be carrying something. As he neared, crossing under the bright spotlight of a streetlight, you realized it was a flower - a white chrysanthemum, to be exact. You bounded toward him, meeting halfway down the sidewalk and practically tackling him in a delighted hug.

Jin’s free hand found yours as you separated, so that he could keep holding onto some part of you as you spoke. His other hand slipped the stem of the flower behind your ear, making sure it was secure before pulling away and taking in the view. “Ug-lee! You’re so pretty!”

You blew a playful kiss, “Thanks, to both. How did you know I love chrysanthemums?”

“I just hoped, ‘cause I love ‘em too. Do you know the meanin’ behind ‘em?”

You shook  your head ‘no’.

“Devoted love, apparently. I’m pretty damn devoted to lovin’ you!”

You knew Jin was about to nervously ramble, apologizing after his second statement, so you halted him with a finger to his lips. When he fell silent, you detangled your hand from his, much to his displeasure. Working slowly so that he could stop you at any point, you hooked your thumbs under the hem of his mask. His breath caught in his throat as you carefully tugged it up, just enough to expose his mouth. 

You found yourself grateful for the desolate streets that late evening provided as you stretched onto your toes and pressed your lips to his. His hands found their way to your waist, pulling you flush against him as you deepened the kiss. After a few sweet moments, you pulled away just enough to whisper against his lips, “Good, because I’m pretty damn devoted to loving you, too.”

[thotsforvillainrights]

~Christmas with You~

(It’s days after Christmas as usual I haven’t active or slept  properly yet but I’ve been focused on my store lol. I hadn’t been super on my writing game in a hot minute so I decided to write how your partner would treat you during the holidays. This features EVERY single villain I write for from the list located in my bio IN ORDER. Also I apologize if you don’t celebrate Christmas and this doesn’t apply to you. I hope you still had a great holiday anyway, and I love you!)

~Toga💉-She begins her present shopping early because she wants to find you something that she’s sure you’ll like! Eventually she ends up buying a ton of things, but none of them satisfy her and she’s worried you won’t like any of them even though you will. So finally she settles on making you something instead. She will stay up all night long pushing herself to put together the perfect gift for you and will literally fall apart if you don’t like it. But I’m sure she won’t have to worry about anything like that.

~Dabi🔥-Hates the holidays. He tells you they hold some pretty shitty childhood memories for him and he’s honestly all for avoiding even just the thought of Christmas, but of course he looks at you and that changes. He’s really willing to try and take part in a little holiday cheer just for you even if it’s stupid to him. Call it cheesy, but when he celebrates with you it helps take away from the old bad thoughts. It gives him a chance to replace the bad memories with good ones. So he’ll bake some shitty cookies with you, and poorly wrap presents even if he knows that you know what he got for you. Of course he’s not opposed to a mistletoe kiss or two (or three). You help put the cheer in the holiday for him.

~Overhaul🥀-Hates Christmas. It’s not the holiday, it’s just how many people are buzzing around up until that point. So he gets ALL of his shopping done early. And and all emergencies are to be handled by his men (ex: in case he forgot something on the list). The number one thing he takes super seriously is you seeing your presents. You better hope he doesn’t catch you sneaking around the tree. He will lock you in the bedroom until the day of Christmas itself before he lets you open any of them early...even on Christmas eve

~Shigaraki🤚-Literally wakes you up super early on the morning of just so you can watch a movie with him in a fluffy throw blanket with the hum of his electric heater nearby. He loves this season with you more than any other because he can use the cold weather as an excuse to cuddle with you. “Oh well you know I’m kinda small here so I don’t produce a lot of body heat. You should come closer.” Aside from that, he loves the way you celebrate. You make it up to him for not having a childhood at all. Surprisingly enough, he loves doing all the little things with you.

~Tengai🏳-Doesn’t see a point in the holidays and never really supported it before. Now don’t get me wrong, he’s no scrooge. He would rather spend his time the way he usually did around this time of the year: working at charity spots and donation centers. When you find out he spends every holiday season serving food to people less fortunate it makes your heart soar. So if you have the time to join him, then by all means please do so. Help him spread a little peace this season

~Deidoro🍺-Being someone that knows a LOT about different drinks out there, he has never in his life heard about eggnog. It throws you for a loop at first and you laugh at him as he watches you in confusion. “Wait...you’re being serious about this???” So you have to sit him down, make it for him, and let him try it. I mean, how could he be the one person to not know about this when its alcohol related? Well let’s just say that not only does it stick, but Sakaki has been downing eggnog at the Hassaikai Christmas party all night, and now he’s trying to literally eat you in the bathroom while you’re washing your face. It’s ridiculous

~Nemouto✔-This man is 100% proposing to you on Christmas night after a long date with you. For someone that talks about feelings being pointless, he sure does have a lot of love for you. He pays attention to the details and the moods around him. This time was a boost in your happiness and it signaled the perfect time for him to pop the question to you. Add in all those romantic light attractions, and the snow with the carolers etc. Its free romance that he can ride on and use to his advantage. Catch him getting on one knee in the snow after you two are leaving a light show in the city.

~Setsuno��-Holidays are depressing to say the least. To him, Christmas and Valentines day were the worst 2 days to be alone out of any day of the year. Well WERE until you came into his life. He stares at you unwrapping presents under the tree while he sips some cocoa and he thinks about how lucky he was that you came into his life. Little moments like these help tie together the ideal that holidays aren’t so bad. Thanks to you, he no longer has to fight back tears of sadness in the dead of night as the snow falls against his window and sticks until it melts. Now he has to fight tears of joy blurring his eyes while you two lounge on the couch and try to get through a holiday movie without falling asleep on each other

~Compress🎭-Will do any and everything with you during this day. I mean he’s going to go all out for you on any day of the year, but this one is a little different. So bring in those matching Santa hats, and roll out the gingerbread house kits. Compress is down for it all. It’s not just for you, but all for the sake of letting loose for once during the year and allowing himself to relax as a civilian instead of a villain on the run. He’d rather spend time building a gingerbread house than trekking through the cold forest with the sounds of sirens in the background getting near. 

~Twice👬-This man gets a new ugly Christmas sweater like every year since 7 years ago. The only difference is now he can celebrate with you and his friends instead of celebrating with himself and his clones, alone somewhere in a storage unit. And yes: he’s the number one person to force the league into a Christmas party because he knows you’ll have fun hanging out with him and everyone else (since usually he keeps you away for protection). He’s also the most likely to make everyone engage in secret Santa with each other. Jin is also the one most likely to burn through Christmas movie marathons like it’s nothing at all to him. He runs on peppermint hot cocoa, and marshmallows so don’t challenge him at all

~Kurogiri☁️-Usually he wouldn’t think twice to celebrate it. It doesn’t bother him, but he’s not really focused on being cheerful when there’s work to be done instead. You have to be the one to help him slow down and enjoy the tiny things here and there. He’ll help you string up lights, decorations, and the tree. Believe me, he does an amazing job on it all because he doesn’t half-ass his work in any kind of way whatsoever. He’s also kinda in love with the Christmas sweater/vest combo you got for him (and he’s secretly wanting to brag about it). He’s not one for the sweets like the ribbon candy, or the candy canes but he’ll blow through holiday food that you cook or order. Most of all, he’s invested in seeing you smile 

~AFO💀-Christmas is just another excuse for him to spoil you. However, you have to step up and let him know it’s more than just gift giving that he needs to do. Where you would love some quality time with him, he’s more about giving you 1,000′s of dollars of gifts and handling work that needs to be done. But who can say no to those eyes of yours huh? (Don’t answer that. Just know he’s not one to deny you). He’s not really into the holidays but he treats it like a big important date night between the two of you. He’ll go above and beyond to ensure things runs smoothly. You’ll have to introduce him to ‘stay at home’ dates for once. If not

~Stain🔪- Isn’t down for it until you mention the tradition that some people go out and chop a real tree. For some odd reason, he’s attached to the idea of chopping a tree down. At first you thought you’d successfully got him into the Christmas spirit, but it just turns out he was eager to use a blade for big business for the first time. Either way, you shrugged it off and rode with it. And boy was that a mistake to make...You were shivering out there. Stain had you in the forest for at least an hour now while he hunted down the perfect tree. You swore to yourself that you’d be getting a fake one next year

~Muscular💪-”Celebrate Christmas? Okay, why tho?” You maybe could convince him by disguising it as a romantic time but he’s not big on romance either. You entice him with gift giving. More importantly the idea of hiding his gifts and not letting him see a single one till Christmas day. THAT is how you get him into the holiday. Be warned though, he’s mostly taking part in the other celebrations because he’s wanting those presents so badly.  

~Mustard☣-You’ll be lucky if you can get him to go Christmas shopping with him, let alone celebrate. No offense against the holiday itself but Mustard doesn’t celebrate ANY day. He doesn’t even like to celebrate his own birthday! He seems to be a bit more bitter around the holidays and the cheer isn’t helping. “C’mon don’t be a scrooooooge!” You poke at his cheek while he’s scrolling through his phone on the couch. “Y/N for the last time, kindly piss off.” He glares at you before turning his attention to his phone again. At this point you’ll either have to risk getting put under from annoying him too much, or you’ll have to find another way to convince him to loosen up. Good luck with it

~Spinner🦎-10/10 best person to spend Christmas with. He’s more into it than you are. As soon as December 1st hits, he’s putting up decorations. In fact, he put up the tree a week before Thanksgiving. The holidays remind him of when he was little and he sat in his mom’s lap while she sewed a Christmas tree quilt. Or when he and his sibling would have snowball fights in the backyard (despite his aversion to cold weather due to his quirk). Shuichi will sit down and write out a holiday movie watch list and watch a different Christmas almost every single day with you if you’d allow it. He’s the first to bake cookies, and the first to start buying gifts early. Most of all, he’s happy to spend this time with you. (Oh be prepared for those walks in the park to admire the Christmas lights)

~Katsukame🗿-Big guy is a lot more cheerful than you know, but he knows nothing about Christmas so you gotta show him all those old fashioned traditions. But please don’t tell him to deck the halls because he will pull a ‘Rappa’ move and punch holes in the hallway walls. Aside from that, he’s pretty open to Christmas cookies, and even decorating. But I have to say he draws the line at singing door to door at people’s houses because he hates to sing. He doesn’t even like to hum lol 

~Rappa👊-Hell yeah he’s gonna spend it with you! The big guy is literally sold on just about anything involving you (well as long as he doesn’t have to wear a stuffy suit for it). His excitement stems mostly from his curiosity. He never had a bad childhood but he still can’t remember much of the holidays back then. So who needs old memories when you can make new ones! At least that’s his reasoning after all lol. 

~Hawks🦅-This guy is the WORST at giving you presents. I mean his gifts are amazing, but he always slips up and tells you what they are too soon. In fact, he will buy you something and ask if you wanna see it within the next five minutes afterward. Its gotten to the point where you have to beg him almost to stop letting wanting you to open stuff. He can’t help it though! Keigo just loves spoiling you, and holidays are the exception where he can go crazy with his saved money.

~Magne🕶-She has this crazy secret collection that she finally busted out once you’ve gotten close enough to you in the relationship. Her secret collection ended up being a MASSIVE set of sweaters (specifically Christmas themed) While she’s beaming proudly about how she has a different sweater for every day in December, your jaw is almost on the floor. “Mag...don’t...don’t these cost like 50 bucks each? How long have you been collecting these?!” Anyway, you should expect an ugly Christmas sweater party with the League at least once this December 

~Tabe🍡-Forget celebrating the other stuff that comes with Christmas, you already know what he’s excited about...All that yummy yummy food!!! Oh God (if it applies) take him to your family (or friends) for Christmas and watch his face as he enters to see that table full of food. Oh man, he’s going to do his best to be respectful but on the inside he wants to destroy all of the food on that table. Oh and don’t worry about the whole baking cookies for Santa because Tabe is most likely going to eat them...and drink the milk too

~Hojo💎-He starts present shopping in late October, early November so that way he has everything he needs to get for you (which is a lot). He hides your presents at the base so you have no idea where to find them. Thanks to the base being an underground labyrinth, you’ll never see those gifts until Christmas eve (just one), and Christmas day (the rest of them). Hojo goes along with whatever you do to celebrate the holidays. He’s just perfect husband material to be honest. Not too rough around the edges, but willing to beat a man to death if his job calls for it. Who knew he’d be the most willing to celebrate the holidays with you.

~Chronostasis🔫-He will literally defy anyone that stood in the way of spending this holiday with you. That includes his own best friend/boss. Overhauls knows this, and he’s comes to respect your relationship so he purposefully doesn’t schedule Hari to work on Christmas (but he still pays him for the full day since he’s still his friend). Hari will absolutely kill anyone that got in the way of your cheer. Even if you were one of those people that believed in Christmas magic, he would support you. The world is tough, and it shows no mercy so little things like joy during the holiday meant a lot more than anyone could know in your household. He loves to see you happy so if that means celebrating with you, then he’s going to do it. Besides...he secretly likes Christmas himself

~Mimic💰-Literally loves to talk about how unnecessary it is while he’s also excited for it as well. Like he’ll talk down about decorating while he’s decorating. If you try to step between him he’s gonna tell you to: “Back off, you’re messing up my artistic flow here. Go sit on the couch. Make yourself useful and unwrap the candy cane boxes for the tree.” You can see by the way he steps back and puts his hands on his hips to admire his handy-work that he’s taken a bit of pride in things here. 

~Pops🇯🇵-The old man will take part in the celebration with you because he absolutely adores both you AND the holiday itself as well. He might mix in a few older traditions like Elf on a Shelf, and making a popcorn line to go around the tree. Most importantly you can look forward to opening one gift early as per tradition on Christmas eve. Pops is thankful every single year he gets to spend with you. 

~Giran👏-Christmas presents from him are on lock. You see he developed this tactic after brainstorming some ideas. He’s always buying you anything and everything but he realizes that it takes away from his Christmas gift pool. To combat this, he decided to cutdown on his generosity in the months of September, October, and November. That way, it’ll give him some time to get you a bunch of stuff on Christmas that you DONT already own. Or at least some stuff you don’t already need. 

~Geten❄-Of course he’s number one at hiding how he feels about you. Or maybe more along the line of being a total Tsundere, but believe me he loves you. If that means celebrating this holiday with you then he’s willing to endure it. His grumpy face is getting harder and harder to hide from you. Sometimes you can just barely catch a glimpse of his content smile while you guys build a snowman together. Wanna have some real fun with him? Challenge him to a snow building competition. With his quirk at play you’ll surely lose no matter what, but isn’t it fun to see him bragging his ass off about how he ran circles around your ‘shitty snow project’? 

~Slice💋-She doesn’t hate the holiday, but she DESPISES the cold weather. A lot of her clothes are shorter and sexier by far. Summer is her number one time of the year. Besides, winter dries her skin out, and she hates being under wraps of a thick jacket etc. She can’t even wear her open toed heels!!! Besides that, she’s down for celebrating indoors if you want to. Christmas movies, hot cocoa, and a few make-out sessions are her forte. That’s the best way to do Christmas in her opinion

~Nine🌪-Bake cookies? Sure. Volunteer at shelters? Absolutely. Hang lights around the house/apartment? Yes baby, anything for you. I mean Nine is a ‘yes’ man all year round, but he’s especially willing to agree to things during this time of year. He’s completely whipped for you and there’s nothing wrong with that. He celebrates however you’d like him to do so. There is just one thing he wants to do that he suggested first and that’s either driving slowly through fancy neighborhoods to see their lights up, or going to a Christmas themed petting zoo and feeding carrots to the reindeer. Let’s say he’s a child at heart during this time of year

~Chimera🐺-Literally sees no purpose in celebrating it at all. He’ll do the stuff you want but he’s going to complain the whole way. The only thing he’s big on is saving up his cash and getting you something. The only thing that matters to him is making you happy during the entirety of your relationship (which he hopes is the rest of your lives together). The rest of the stuff he’s just grumbling and putting up with so he can see your smile. 

~Mummy🥋-Christmas? For what? Well okay then, if you say so. Really doesn’t get the point but hey, why not. He’s got nothing better to do. He’s never really celebrated it, His family never really celebrated it either so he’s a little interested in how you get down for it. His favorite thing he developed was this odd present wrapping competition with you. You should already know how good he is at wrapping things due to his quirk (I’m sure he’s shown you how good he is at binding and wrapping stuff before). Add a little competition into anything and he’s ready to do it. Baking competition, Caroling competition, Decorating competition. He’ll even challenge you to who can cuddle each other better. Whatever floats his boat I guess lol

~Gentle Criminal☕-He wants to travel during the holidays with you and he wants to vlog it all. Only if you’re okay with it of course! If you give him the ‘okay’ then he’s whisking you away somewhere overseas for a more extravagant vacation. He ends up spending so much time with you and having so much fun that he stop recording like 3 days in. His reasoning behind travelling is that snow must be so much more fun elsewhere, so of course the rest of the holidays must be as well. In all reality he just wants to make sure you have a fun Christmas. Travelling during it and experiencing different places and cultures are a fun new way to experience the holiday. 

~La Brava📸-Handy with the tech, but mostly with the camera. She amasses an entire compilation of you throughout the day and she’ll stay up all night stitching it together. The day after Christmas comes and she sits you down on the couch to watch it with her. Honestly she’s the sweetest and most dedicated partner that anyone could ask for. The way she treats you makes you thankful not just for spending Christmas with her, but for spending any day of the year with her. 

[xonepeacelovex]

i kinda wish you’d talk to me more than you do

i’m happy for you

sharing you

Weddings.

He likes attending weddings. He loves seeing happy endings for the people who are close to him. Jisung, his roommate on university, his long lost twin brother because of their birthdays, is currently exchanging vows with his bride.

What’s there to hate about weddings? Weddings are a great excuse, his friends words, to mingle his single hopeless romantic ass. To be honest, he is fine being single. He lives a fun life. There are just time he feels lonely, craving for someone to talk to or hug but that’s all it is.

Yet you came to his life in a way he never expected.

“I’m sorry for your handkerchief.”, you said apologetically to the man. “It’s okay.”, he said. You are beyond embarrassed, you cried in front of a stranger. You want to go home as soon as possible.

“Do you…”, he hesitated. You look at him, “Do you have a ride to the reception? You can ride with me.”, he offered. “That’s… Thank you but I came with…”, you look around for your best friend. Ryunjin is talking to a stranger, laughing, giving that ‘look’. You gulped, there is something telling you that you will go home alone today. The man is also looking at the direction you are looking. “Yeah. With my best friend.”, you said horrified. You walked towards your best friend leaving the man.

Reception

One more thing he really likes about weddings is the reception. Free food, the drinks, the dancing, the music, the speeches before a toast, and the cutting of cake really excites him. The cutting of the cake, especially he is the one who made it, requested by Jisung.

The guests are dancing now on the dance floor. You are looking at the newly wed couple dancing, seeing Jisung smile made you smile too. He is happy n-… Someone bumped into you, “I’m sorry,”. You felt a liquid dripping from your legs to your shoes. You look up at the person, “Oh no. It’s fine.”, you said when you recognize him, getting the handkerchief from your purse, patting your dress. “No. Let me help you.”, he insisted. 

Thus, like fate playing you, the gentleman earlier from the church who saw you crying is waiting outside the powder room for you. 

Tell me what you wanna know, I’ll probably want it too

“So... why are you crying earlier?”, Felix, he introduced himself earlier, is playing with the champagne on his hands. “No. No. No.”, you said, pointing your index finger to him, “Its a happy tears. I’m happy for Jisung.”, you replied smiling. He smiled also smile at that. 

That night, you went home alone and with his phone number on your phone. 

Tell me where you wanna go, and I’ll go there with you

The next day, Felix invited you to hang out with him to show him around your hometown. You agreed, there is nothing left for you to pack at home. It is also good to visit the places where you spent your childhood for the sake of memories. Oh. You love reminiscing the old days. 

You visited the restaurant where you met Jisung. Yes, you are reminiscing but also the food there is really great. Felix treated you to a dinner, his payback for showing him around.

On the way out, you saw the newly weds outside the restaurant. You stopped walking which confuses Felix until he saw the two. Jisung was the first one to greet you two. “Hey. I never knew you know each other.”, he said surprised. “Yeah. At your wedding.”, Felix replied. Jisung looked at you and then gestured to his wife, holding her waist, “YN. This is my wife.” You stepped forward to shake hands with her then she introduces herself to you. When she smiles at you, you immediately know the reason why Jisung fall in love with her. She got that smile, that heart warming smile.

You stepped back, beside Felix, “Really. Jisung. I know her. I attended your wedding.”, you teased Jisung, rolling your eyes at him. “I know even though I didn’t catch a glimpse of you. Now I know why.”, he said looking knowingly at Felix. You want to kick his shin but decided to just smile at him. He stop immediately knowing the meaning behind your smile. “We need to get going. Bye.”, he said hurriedly, holding the hands of his wife, entering the restaurant.

“Jisung...”, you whispered while shaking your head, a smile on your face. is really happy.

Felix is quietly watching you looking at the couple.

Take my hand, I swear to God, there’s nothing we can do

In the back of your mind, you know Felix is interested in you. Spending time with him only prove what you are scared of, you are falling for him too. These past few days, you got to know Felix more. The conclusion you have is that he is a sunshine, a human form of sunshine. 

“I know you love here but why you never left this town?”, Felix asked you one night when you showed him the playground near your old house. You told Felix about your dream of visiting other countries when you were a child. Stopping the swing you are sitting on, looking at the moon, “I waited for someone to come back.”, you admitted.

Jisung. Felix knew who is that someone.

Tell me what you're scared of, I bet I'm scared of it too

That night you returned the handkerchief to Felix. “Thank you for this.”, you handed him the handkerchief. Felix looked at you confused, thinking that you still have time to return it to him. He told you his flight will be in two days from now. He accepted it with confusion. “I’ll return it now ‘cause tomorrow I might not be able to.”, you said nonchalantly. “What does it mean?”, he questioned. “Nothing.”, you said to him, standing up from the swings.

Felix stopped you from leaving, holding your wrist. “YN. Wait.”, he uttered. You look at him, patiently waiting for what he’ll say. “I like you.”, he confessed. “I know I just only know you for a short amount of time but that is enough for me to know and be sure of what I feel for you.” 

“I know Felix.”, you answered him. “But you see, tomorrow I’ll be leaving this country to achieve my dreams. I can't return your feelings.”

His face fell, removing his hand from your wrist, that’s what you meant earlier, he thought.

“Are you scared?”, he whispered. You hold his hands, “Yes. I am.”, you answered him truthfully. “I am scared of what I also feel for you, Felix. I will not ask you to stay for me cause I’ll leave this town. I will not ask you to wait because tomorrow is not promised.”

You initiated the hug, patting his back. You want to consol him, comfort him on how the fate is really cruel. You want to say it’s not his fault but yours.

When you are about to let go, he hug you tightly. “I’m also scared.”, looking at you in the eyes. “I’m scared of letting you go.” You chuckled, he makes it very obvious on how he is holding you right now.

“Then don’t let me go?”, you asked him. He lets you go, which confuses you. Felix stepped back, looking at you seriously. You look at him nervously, one moment he is holding you tightly then the next he steps back from you.

“Just so you know...”, he holds your both hands. “I’ll never let you go.” One thought crossed your mind when you saw Felix’s eyes. Maybe it’s my time to be happy. He cupped your face and kissed your lips softly.

Copyright © 2020 xonepeacelovex All rights reserved.

[oneofyatosfollowers]

Yatori Week 2021- Day 7

@yatoriweek2021

AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32090953/chapters/79500055

Fanfiction: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13905660/1/Yatori-Week-2021

It was a natural law in this world that humans were connected by ties. 

Individuals connected to one another through spiritual bonds, their relationship in it’s very essence. Most of these bonds are created as a person goes through life: best friends, bosses, classmates. There were only a handful of relationships that are decided before an individual is born into the world. The most suspenseful and life changing bond a person had no control over was who they fell in love with. Their soulmate. It was someone they were guaranteed to meet and whose existence was the only solid evidence of bonds people had. Unlike every other tie a person develops, an individual is given a hint about the bond before it’s ever really tied. Once the individual turns 16, the first words their soulmate will say to them appear as an unerasable mark on the person’s body. It is the only designation of the tie the two are destined to share. While a soulmate bond can never be broken, if they die, a new soulmate is matched to the individual. The words disappear as new words form elsewhere on the skin.

The entire thing was romanticized by society, especially newly turned-sixteen year olds. Of course Hiyori was no exception. She wasn’t as vociferous as her other female classmates but that didn’t mean Hiyori wasn’t excited the morning after her sixteenth birthday and searched her body. Which is why when she finally found the word, neatly scrawled out on the soft part of her arm, Hiyori’s entire future came crashing down around her.

“Hiyori!” Yama whined, “come on, why can’t you just show us what it says!” Her friend insisted during lunch break. It’s been over a month since Hiyori turned sixteen and since then she has put makeup on her arm every day. Thankfully this was not an uncommon practice, most people covered the words for their future soulmate for various reasons. Unfortunately, Hiyori’s reason was one of the more unsavory ones. Not that she could ever tell anyone that.

“Because Yama! It’s a- it’s a surprise! I want to be the only one who knows when I meet him. It has to stay a secret,” Hiyori answered. As her friends swooned and sighed she subconsciously tucked her arm against her stomach, taking care not to let the make-up rub off.

“Of course, it’s much more romantic that way! Lots of people do it,” Ami agreed. They giggled and turned the conversation to other stories of cute soulmate meetings. What Hiyori told them was common, it was natural for people to want to get to know their soulmate before telling others close to them. Part of Hiyori, on the other hand, would rather not meet her soulmate at all. She frowned at her arm later that day in the bathroom. It was best to re-apply makeup every four hours. There was some leeway with the rules of the universe. It wasn’t just the first ‘word’ that was written on the skin, it was more like the first sentence. For Yama, she had “You like that band too?” scrawled on her back while Ami just had “Excuse me, miss” on her hip. Hiyori only had one word. One word that would not disappear until he said it to her. That wasn’t the thing that bothered her. Despite hearing about the wonders love did for a person, how it felt, Hiyori did not want to fall for someone who’s first word to her is going to be “boobs.”

---

Yato stepped out of the convenience store with a sigh. He could already hear Yukine complaining about microwave food for dinner but pay has been rather tight this month. Since he never graduated highschool, despite self-teaching most subjects, Yato’s job opportunities were far and few in between. As such he could only do odd jobs around town and whatever else he could sweet-talk his way into. The past month was the convenience store during the day and bartending at night and on weekends; while next week he would spend his time window washing and move the convenience store to the night shift. They were lucky they decided to room with Kazuma at college and help split the rent and fees, but taking care of a teenager when you were barely 23 was a handful in various ways. Still, Yato didn’t regret it. He considered himself to be a rather lonely and standoff-ish person- having been raised by a violent, manipulating man- and Yukine was the same. Raising him was the least Yato could do with his sorry life; that way at least Yukine could feel better about meeting whoever he was destined for.

As Yato continued down the street he swerved around giggling couples and happy families. Part of him wanted to gag and roll his eyes, but that part was very old and small compared to the rest of him. The majority of him just glanced at them with blank eyes and a melancholy sigh, still unbelieving of the concept and its power. It wasn’t that he didn’t have one, of course he did. Yato just didn’t believe that- whoever they were- would truly love him as he was and would live happily ever after with him. Yato was aware he wasn’t the type of guy parents wanted their daughter or son to bring home, if his frequent homeless was anything to go by. Bad luck and misfortune followed Yato around like the plague to the point where Yato felt sorry for the person forcibly tied to him.

“I’m home!” Yato called into the house. He would have to pull himself out of his funk before Yukine got concerned. As he took his shoes off, Yato dug around in his pocket for the extra change he collected and let them clink into the glass bottle on the table. Kazuma was still working on his masters, which meant they would be able to live in this nice place for at least another couple years. The money in the bottle was originally for Yato’s proper education which then transferred to Yukine’s college fund. Of course that was still up for argument but they would need a place to live eventually. With another sigh, Yato walked into the kitchen to see Kazuma and Yukine eating a healthier looking meal.

“Welcome back,” Kazuma greeted. The third seat at the table had a plate with larger portions on it, steam coming from the top.

“How was work?” Yukine asked around his food.

“Don’t choke,” Yato immediately switched into mother-hen mode which caused the kid to roll his eyes.

“Rough day?” Kazuma asked as he watched Yato put the instant food away.

“Not really,” Yato shrugged. It was true, nothing particularly happened today but maybe that was the problem.

“Still haven’t talked to your soulmate, huh?” Yukine snickered. From across the table, Kazuma chided him but Yato just rolled up the newest edition of Yukine’s favorite magazine he picked up and whacked him lightly on the head.

“Well we can’t all be like Mr. Asked-Out-My-Soulmate-The-Moment-I-Turned-Sixteen over here,” Yato thumbed over to Kazuma who just stuck his nose in the air.

“I knew it was her before-hand. I could just tell.” He insisted.

“Yeah, well, knowing Yato he’s going to end up as one of those people who don’t meet their soulmate until they’re 80,” Yukine scoffed, “and with first words like that I wouldn’t want to anyway.”

“Yukine!” Kazuma hissed. Yato just waved him off, the kid didn’t mean any harm.

“You better be careful. You know they say it’s bad to make fun of another’s soulmate, especially when you haven’t gotten yours yet,” Yato grinned at the kid who happily took the gift.

“I thought a soulmate was chosen when you were born?” Yukine huffed.

“Hmm that’s up to the gods,” Yato sang, “two more years, two more years.” He held up a peace sign at the fourteen year old who just huffed again and opened the magazine.

“Yato,” Kazuma said as he walked by, though it was unclear what he was going to say. Not in the mood for pity, Yato just winked.

“I’m going to hop in the shower real quick.” He scampered off down the hall just as Kazuma and Yukine got into their bickering match. Yukine didn’t understand why Kazuma was so iffy with soulmates around Yato and that was understandable. There were many reasons as to why that the kid didn’t know. For one, Yato was the one who got Kazuma to his soulmate, introduced them in fact, but that was a story for another day.

Once the shut door cut off their voices, Yato sighed again and started to undress. First he took off his ascot, which revealed the words on the side of his neck, then his shirt which revealed his empty naval. Yes, Yato did have a soulmate, but the one that claimed his neck was different than the one he once had. One glance at his phone, and the date, revealed the reason he had been so down: it was the anniversary of his original soulmate’s death. Regardless of the fact that it had been years, or that Yato had lost track of the date, the loss of a soulmate was something he felt annually whether he acknowledged it or not. That very fact was one of the only reasons Yato still believed in the power of ties.

In the mirror, Yato’s eyes traced the empty skin under his belly button like he had done when he was younger. When he turned 16 he spent the entire night wide awake, waiting for the fabled words to appear. He remembered being so happy when they did, running to the bathroom much like this one to read the words “Aren’t The Cherry Blossoms Beautiful?” He had dreamed about the day he would meet her, spending most of his time hanging around sakura trees and attending festivals. He wondered what she would look like, what she would be like, what his words to her were. With a sentence like that, she sounded kind. The words made him want to be kind too, they were his saving grace that could never go away no matter how much his father tried. But then, just as quietly as they appeared, they disappeared. After six months. He had been frantic, panicked, pulling and tugging at his skin until it turned red, running down stairs with tears rolling down his face. Kazuma was there for him but even he could sense the effect it had on Yato.

“They must have died,” his father had said, “that’s what happens.” The picture of Yato’s mother hung on the wall.

“You’ll get a new one eventually,” he checked his wrist to look at his own second soulmate, “but whether or not you choose to remain loyal to the first is up to you. The gods are fickle that way.”

Shaking his head of the memory, Yato forced his eyes up to his new future. He refused to become miserable like his father, taking out his loss on the children a soulmate’s love produced. Yato would be kind to his soulmate and treat her like the precious blessing she was. At least, that’s what Yato told himself. When the new words appeared one morning on his neck years later- showing how much younger his soulmate was- his sister had laughed. She said that the gods made a mistake with the first and that he was destined to be with a gyaru. What even was a “Jungle Savate” anyway? At the time he had done a quick google search, the words were the name of a wrestling move, and Yukine laughed that he would fall in love with a beefy wrestler. Of course Kazuma said that there were wrestling schools across the country and that a spunky fighter would match Yato perfectly. Either way, Yato may or may not have gone to the supposed wrestling schools once or twice. Even thought about signing up if it weren’t so expensive. But Yato had long since decided to focus on taking care of himself and Yukine, allowing the soulmate to appear naturally.

“Gyarus aren't that bad anyway,” Yato muttered to himself in the shower.

“Just keep telling yourself that!” Yukine hollered from the hall.

“Yukine!” Kazuma gasped loudly. Despite himself, Yato chuckled and decided that whatever makeup skills he learned from his sister would be put to good use.

---

Even though soulmates were the biggest event in a high schoolers’ life, there were other landmarks that were also exciting to experience. The major event coming up for Hiyori was the culture festival. Since she wasn’t in any club, she would be helpling her class put together a cafe. She had been sent to the home-ec room to grab some essentials and was on her way back to the classroom when Ami came running down the hall.

“Hiyori! Hiyori!” She called, arms waving. This was rather odd for the no-nonsense girl to do so Hiyori stopped immediately. Her friend ran up to her with a breathless smile.

“Yama just found her soulmate!” Ami exclaimed.

“Really?” Hiyori gasped. With a nod, Ami ran back to the classroom with Hiyori closely behind. Entering the room, the entire class was still in applause for the new couple, taking turns congratulating them as they gushed over the event. Yama was not so shamefully showing off her now empty back while the young man standing next to her showed off a blank calf. He was tall with short black hair and a kind smile.

“Awe I missed it,” Hiyori sighed good-naturedly. She giggled with Ami regardless.

“His name is Abe! He’s in the grade ahead of us which is why she’s never seen him before! Turns out he was looking for his friend and accidentally walked into the wrong classroom. What a coincidence, huh?” Ami gushed.

“Seriously,” Hiyori gasped with awe, “that’s all it takes huh?” They mused for a moment before approaching their best friend and giving their congratulations. The merriment went on for about ten minutes before the teacher gently nudged the class back to work and Abe back to class. The two made plans for a date that night and Yama waved him goodbye. As Hiyori was directed to where she should put her things, she noticed even the window-wiping guy was applauding her friend. While the class continued to work, Yama went on about the event to Hiyori and Ami non-stop. Behind her the window man swayed back and forth on his elevated bench.

“So yeah, I just bumped into him and he saw my phone key chain and-” Yama’s chattering was cut off by loud laughter. A group of the more rowdy group of boys were slacking on their work in favor of snickering with the window cleaner. The teacher had left some time ago which allowed the man to splash suds on the glass and draw rather inappropriate images.

“Ugh,” Ami scoffed, “honestly some boys never grow up. It’s like they're looking at their future’s reflection.” With another roll of their eyes, Hiyori’s friends went back to their project while Hiyori kept watching. The minor pity and disgust she felt for the man quickly faded when he wiped the drawing away and instead continued on with his work. Instead of the regular rhythmic wiping he had been doing before, the man felt he still had an audience to put on a show for. With a new splash of soap, the man twirled the wiper with his fingers, tossing it in the air before spinning it along the glass. Even Hiyori found herself in awe as he kept it spinning along the window, seemingly on its own, while he pulled out a second one that moved at lightning speed to clean up after it. While he made quick work of the window, keeping the students who watched entranced, Hiyori found herself looking past the theatrics and the barrier at the man.

He was young, like someone who should be in college with her brother not washing windows in the middle of a weekday. He had nondescript black hair, white tee-shirt, scarf, and paint stained jeans with sneakers. His eyes, on the other hand, were something Hiyori had to stare at. From her spot within the classroom, Hiyori could tell how piercing they were. They were blue, bright blue that sharply stood out against the clear sky behind him like day time stars. They were amused, crinked by his slight smirk as he continued his dance, yet Hiyori felt they weren’t as bright as they could be. Even with the tiredness, or lack of happiness, she thought the man felt, his performance devolved into actual dancing with his wipers and water. He didn’t seem to notice most of the students went back to ignoring him but the perfect pigeon he managed to shape with the water had Hiyori sputtering out a laugh.

“Ooo Hiyori! Laughing at the attractive window man with the wet t-shirt? What would your mother say?” Yama suddenly teased, “not that I blame you.” They looked at the man together, Hiyori’s eyes catching onto the ropes holding up the bench.

“Yama, you literally just found your soulmate,” Ami huffed at her. They dissolved into giggles as the window washer did a backflip and landed heavily on the metal seat, the ropes holding him up stretching under the stress.

“Hiyori? Hiyori!” Ami’s called after her as Hiyori sprang to her feet. Hiyori ignored them and rushed to the back of the class, pushing her way through the group of boys to the window. By now the man had noticed her and stopped his dancing, but behind him one of the ropes was starting to unravel, unnoticed by everyone else.

“Oi! Iki!”

“What the hell?” The boys sounded in alarm as Hiyori unlocked the window and threw it open. It slid out of the way with a harsh clatter just as the rope untied itself. For a moment, Hiyori was face to face with the blue-eyed man, expressions a mirror image of intense fear. The connection between their gaze was shattered as he started to fall and Hiyori lurched her hand out to him, not noticing the way her knee was slipping off the edge.

Hiyori shut her eyes as she fell through the air, the fall seemed to take forever yet was over in an instant. As the wind whipped through her hair, roaring against her ears, Hiyori’s outstretched hand accomplished it’s task of grabbing onto his shirt. It was something she failed to notice, just as she didn’t notice the way his arms wrapped protectively around her, latching her against his chest to try and cushion her fall.

In a second, they fell to the ground with a harsh thud, Hiyori’s entire body jolting from the impact. It knocked the wind out of her. Hiyori kept her eyes screwed shut and she tried to breathe in and out, a tear squeezing from her eye. Somewhere she heard people shouting along with the groan of the man she pushed. Eventually she tried to get up, blinking away the spots in her vision as her balled fists pushed against whatever they were holding. She only made it a couple inches forward before the adrenaline and shock caused her arms to give out and she fell back down.

“Hiyori!” Yama cried from above.

“Hiyori, are you alright?” Ami exclaimed. More shouting came from above and Hiyori opted not to try and lift herself up.

“Yeah I’m fine!” She called. Which was surprisingly true. They only fell from the second story window but Hiyori figured something would be broken. It was then that the mass under her groaned and Hiyori realized the reason behind her lack of injuries. With a gasp she looked down, unable to actually see the man she was completely laying on top of. Her mouth opened and closed as Hiyori struggled to ask if he was okay, or apologize, or berrade him for dancing while suspended in the air. The man, however, was quicker to get in control of his limbs and frantically tapped her sides and shoulder. She could feel him fight the same battle as her, taking in a breath so deep, Hiyori felt herself rise.

“Boobs,” he wheezed. Hiyori heard herself squawk as her body temperature boiled from her feet to her head. The window washer batted her shoulder again, a little harder. This time Hiyori felt his mouth move, hot and gasping against her chest.

“Heavy. Can’t breathe,” he gasped. With another noise that sounded between a yelp of embarrassment and a cry of outrage, Hiyori was finally able to scramble off him. She couldn’t go far, just able to sit next to him with her arms wrapped around her top. With knitted brows, Hiyori watched him gasp for air like he just endured CPR. It was then that Hiyori realized three things. One, this man called her heavy; Two, she almost suffocated him with her breasts in front of the school; Three, he was her soulmate. With another gasp he forced himself to a sitting position, his fingers kneading his forehead as he groaned.

“Did someone get a teacher?”

“Are they okay? That girl just jumped out of the window!”

“Did he just say ‘boobs’?” The student chatter from the open windows finally flooded into Hiyori’s senses. Mortified, the arms wrapped around her breasts hugged them tighter against her. In her panic she stood sharply, stumbling for a second before catching herself. The action caught his attention and those bright blue eyes whipped up to her.

“Hey, are you okay?” He asked, concerned, “what were you thinking jumping out of the window like that?” It was as if he didn’t notice the bench that once suspended him in the air was now lopsided tilting down towards a nasty fall. The absolute nerve of him! The insult, the sexual harassment, the absolute lack of brain cells! Hiyori felt the steam from her fury and embarrassment cause her teeth to grind under the pressure. She seethed as the man before her- her soulmate no less- was just blinking up at her with honest worry, unaware that she was a smoking gun ready to fire. Hiyori didn’t even have time to think about this being the first thing she said to him as she pivoted her back foot.

“Jungle,” Hiyori lashed her leg out, “Savate!” With a twist of her body and an absolutely perfect form, the top of her foot landed squarely along the light blue targets. His eyes only had time to widen before his head was sent harshly back down to the ground. It took a couple of heaving breaths for Hiyori to realize- rather proudly- the man was knocked out cold. Then it took until after the teachers arrived, followed by the paramedics accepting Hiyori’s request to bring them to her parent’s hospital, for her to realize what her first words to her soulmate were.

---

When Yato came to, he could already feel the smile on his face. It was rather confusing at first, his brain couldn’t come up with the answer as to why he was happy. But when a white light blinded his retinas, Yato figured he must be in heaven. Before he could send an honest apology to his soulmate for kicking the bucket so easily, he heard the voice of another- less angelic- little angel.

“If you’re going to wake up just do it already, stop moaning like you’re dying,” sassed Yukine from somewhere at his side.

“Yukine please! He’s concussed with broken ribs and has a cracked rib cage,” Kazuma fretted from the other side. Smile already in place, Yato could only huff a laugh and rub his eyes. The headache had settled in but Yato forced himself to blink away the lights, eying the concerned way his friends were leaning forward. Even with Yukine’s scowl and glare Yato could clearly see the blonde’s red-rimmed eyes. The image was always adorable, the kid tended to be a cry baby, but Yato remembered he was smiling for another reason.

His soulmate. A spunky, feisty, beautiful young woman who was just as kind hearted as he had hoped. It was a bit off-putting that she was still a highschool student- laws covering soulmates would make Yato look a little better- but Yato figured she must have recently turned 16. It made him feel better that she had no problem cracking him across the face with one hell of a kick when he was out of line, not that he did it on purpose. Still, he owed it to her to go talk to her. He wanted to go talk to her! And make sure he was remembering correctly and it wasn’t the concussion talking. Looking around, Yato was in a hospital bed, that was for sure. Under a thin white blanket on a raised mattress. The LED lights showed that they were the only ones in the room, that no other beds were lined up next to him. Come to think of it, the room was ridiculously nice. Far too nice for anything in their budget. Maybe he really was in heaven and these were just fake roommates.

“Where am I?” Yato asked. His question was met with silence as Yukine and Kazuma shared a concerned look from across the bed sheets. Suddenly, Yukine slipped his hand into Yato’s and his big, baby eyes grew shiny with concern.

“Yato?” Yukine asked, “do you remember us?” He said it so honestly, so gently, that Yato’s expression dropped into shock. Biting his lip, Yato realized he had a golden opportunity here but there were more important things to do than making his kid cry.

“I don’t have amnesia, Yukine. I still remember the little munchkin that mooches off of my side gigs,” Yato snorted, squeezing their hands. With a grin, Yato and Kazuma snickered as Yukine hissed and tossed their hands off to the side.

“That was some fall though! I heard you saved a girl that jumped after you?” Kazuma said.

“She did jump!” Yukine gasped, “or did you grab her?” He accused with narrow eyes.

“I did not! She tried to grab me and we both fell,” Yato explained. So his memory wasn’t screwy. The first thing that girl said to him was ‘Jungle Savate’ the same as that famous kick. Even better! The first word he said to her was...was…

“What is it? Are you in pain?” Kazuma fretted when Yato groaned and let his head fall back against the pillow.

“What about her? Did she get hurt?” Yato asked, eyes closed.

“No actually. They put her down the hall and she walked away without any bruises,” Kazuma said, “in fact it was her that insisted on coming to this hospital. Apparently she has family here, which is why they put you up for free.”

“For free really?” Yukine blinked.

“Yeah, I was talking to the doctor. He was really grateful. On behalf of the family I guess.” Kazuma shrugged.

“Well that’s really nice of her,” Yato sighed, a smile growing back on his face. She truly was kind, and seemed to come from a loving, equally kind family. Yato made a vow to worship the ground she walked on. Before Yato could open his mouth to inform his friends about the amazing, life-changing, discovery he made in such an in-characterly unlucky way, they heard a group of girls down the hall.

“Are you sure you should be moving around, Hiyori?” One voice echoed. Yato’s heart leaped in his throat and his mouth clicked shut.

“Yeah Hiyori, and why do you even want to see this pervert anyway?” Another comment sounded even closer and stabbed Yato right through the heart. They were easily heard by the rest of the room and Yukine gave Yato a shoulder pat filled with mock sympathy. There was some harsh sushing from the group of gossiping girls as they approached his room.

“Cause he saved my life and got hurt that’s why,” a familiar voice whispered. It took a couple moments before a trio of highschool girls entered Yato’s hospital room, taking a moment to whisper about his name. They walked in like they owned the place, like they were going to kick Yato out of their lunch table. In the middle, Yato’s soulmate led the other two. She fit his memory perfectly, long brown hair with round brown eyes. Now that she didn’t have a look of absolute fear and panic, Yato noticed her eyes had specks of mahogany within their depths. He could stare at them for hours and happily get lost. Unfortunately, she still had a look of nervous anxiety and Yato was reminded of the elephant between them.

“Um, hello! Are you, um, the guy who was washing our windows?” The girl with the shortest hair asked.

“Yes I am,” Yato smiled, “and you can just call me Yato.” He let his eyes move from her to his soulmate, keeping his smile as tamed as he could.

“Thank you for saving our dear Hiyori!” The girl wailed, the other one with glasses comforting her. Hiyori suddenly seemed to straighten out slightly and Yato caught her pressing the inside of his arm against her side. From what he could see, the skin was empty, and he didn’t have to look to know his neck was just as clear. It seemed the short haired girl wasn’t the only one with bravery, as his soulmate cleared her throat and steeled herself.

“Hello Yato, my name is Hiyori Iki. It’s nice to meet you.” She came to stand next to Yukine, her eyes never releasing Yato from her gaze, and she stuck out her hand. Yato let his eyes flicker to the perfectly manicured hand then back up to her. Amusement curled his lips and sparked his eyes. But he just snorted and took the offered greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you too. I heard you are alright, is that true?” Yato asked. As happy as he was, the thought of his soulmate getting hurt because of him didn’t sit right. His question seemed to surprise her, shock shooting up her arm and spreading a pretty pink across her cheeks.

“Oh, um, yes, I’m alright. Thank you,” she sputtered, pulling her hand back. The room watched as they stared at each other, Yato’s grin only growing, the more red he watched spread across her face. Yato ignored the very intense way Kazuma was staring at his empty neck, watching their interaction with his famous meticulousness.

“What is wrong with you,” Yukine suddenly growled from his chair. This caught Hiyori’s attention and she looked at the blonde like she just noticed he was there. The little shyster was quick to slap on that adorable smile.

“Thank you for helping this guy out with the medical bills. He’s the type to insist he’s fine until he falls over dead!” Yukine tried to joke but Hiyori looked rather concerned.

“Ah!” Yato leaped forward only for his battered ribcage to knock the wind out of him. Yato wheezed as pain shot through his bones but when he saw the pretty Hiyori reach out in concern, he forced another wobbly smile. The last thing he wanted was for her to think he didn’t believe in self care, or worse, that he was dirt poor. Which he was.

“He’s only joking! Of course I go to the doctor! Just not one as nice as this,” Yato quickly said, “but yes, thank you for your generosity and please thank your family for me too. Let me know if they need anything. Anything at all!” His smile was the largest it’s been his entire life and a laughter bubbled up from his throat. Yato could feel the entire room looking at him like the concussion caused serious brain damage but he didn’t care. Hopefully they would write off the stray tears as part of his joy.

“Oh, well, I’m sure my parents don’t need window washing?” Hiyori, the sweet angel, tried. It was clear she was uncomfortable, her friends as well. Thankfully, Kazuma got over himself and became the ever so level headed friend. Standing up, Kazuma cleared his throat.

“My name is Kazuma and this is Yukine, we are Yato’s roommates and very close friends. We also wanted to thank you and your family for all your help,” Kazuma said, “and if I may, what Yato forgot to say is that he’s a man of many trades. A handyman if you will. So if your parents needed any sort of repairs done, he would be more than happy to do them for free.” His words smoothed over the tension in the room and Yato found himself sighing along with everyone else.

“Oh, well, thank you, I’ll let them know.” Hiyori said.

“You’ll need my number!” Yato suddenly gasped. The room’s air suddenly turned sour but this time Hiyori just blinked at him. There were a couple seconds where she said nothing. She didn’t look uncomfortable, just thoughtful, she held his gaze evenly with just as much knowing.

“Sure,” she eventually said. Her friends looked shocked at her, along with Yukine, but Kazuma just pushed his glasses with his finger to hide his smile.

“If you would, Yukine,” Yato pressed. When the kid did nothing but look at Yato like he just squashed a spider with his bare hands on his homework, Yato cleared his throat and pointed his head in the young lady’s direction. The kid scoffed and didn’t even bother trying to hide his eye roll but Yato considered it a win that he pulled his backpack onto his lap and took out one of Yato’s business cards.

“Oh! Thank you!” Hiyori took it a bit too happily. Then, to everyone’s shock, she took out her phone and started typing into it. Yato was eliated, so much so that his grin grew so wide his mouth started to open. Before he realized it, he was doing the one thing he shouldn’t: talking. From his side, Kazuma adopted a look of horror.

“Just don’t put me in your phone as the boob guy, alright?” Yato laughed again. His eyes were shut so he didn’t see the people surrounding him collectively flinch. The card was crumpled in the girl’s fist as she started vibrating with that mortified-fueled fury.

“Jungle Savate!” Her voice shocked his heart and it thudded happily while his head mourned the sudden impact. She really was incredible, for her foot to not only reach his face from that height but to hit the exact same spot as before. At least this time she didn’t knock him out again, but he wasn’t fully conscious when she spun around with a huff and walked away.

“Geez, what's your problem? You’re so creepy,” Yukine said, failing to hide his snickering.

“I’m in love,” Yato swooned, his sigh sounded a little more loopy than it should. The young men at his sides scoffed but for different reasons.

“You’re messed up is what you are. She’s in highschool. You just took too many hits to the head,” Yukine rolled his eyes so hard he didn’t see Kazuma making gestures to his neck and Yato’s neck. So, in his lull, Yato decided to help the kid out.

“She’s my soulmate.”

“Hah. Yeah,” Yukine peaked out the hallway and let his eyes wander up expensive shoes, long legs, swaying hips, a highschool uniform, and smooth hair, “sure she is.”

[jpegjade]

Take Care - Spencer

diana has made an appearance for something! i have rewritten this 3 times and i feel like this time is the one. 

Request: I’ve never seen this story anywhere written but like Spencer x reader where the reader is a caretaker of Diana’s and Diana is always talking about Reid and reading y/n the letters he sends and Diana always talks about how good spencer + the reader would be together and then they meet and fall in love ugh 🥺

Warnings: none that i can think of. 

_______________________

“You look bright today, Diana.” You said, bringing her mail for the day. 

“I’m getting a letter from Spencer today.” She said, opening the letter for the day. 

“Yeah, that’s great!” You said, handing out the other residents letters from their loved ones. 

Diana was the only one who got something everyday because her son was some kind of big shot fbi guy, according to her, so he was able to tell her all this cool stuff. She reads the letters to you very formally, as you were letting her believe she was still a professor and she was just holding office hours. That always made her happy, when you played into the delusion. You weren’t on her detailed staff so you didn’t know everything but you knew enough. 

One day, a letter came in the mail, addressed to you. Your relatives didn’t write letters so you didn’t know who it could be from until you opened it. 

“Dear y/n, 

My name is Spencer Reid. I am Diana Reid’s son. I assume she has told you about me as she mentions how cute you and I would be together when I actually have the chance to talk to her on rare occasions. She speaks highly of your service to her. I wanted to thank you for that. I can not do so in person at the moment but I figured a letter is a personal way to thank someone for their service.

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

Standing in the lobby, you read the letter a couple of times. What in the world? Why would he thank you? Why you? You must not have been special. He must have hand written a letter to all of the people who help his mom. But… You’re the one person who hangs out with his mom and isn’t on the official staff list assigned to her. You were obviously perplexed but you figured that you should write one back. 

You got out a piece of paper and started writing. Then scratching out. Then writing again. Then scratching out again. Finally, you got something solid and closed the envelope, dropping it in the building’s outgoing mailbox. 

You pushed it to the back of your mind and moved on with your day. You couldn’t wait to hear about Spencer’s “adventures,” as Diana calls them. Sure, they weren’t the most interesting things but he told her secrets that no one else knew. It was like you were in on something special without prying. 

Diana read you her letter and then you got her up and moving for lunch. After that, your morning shift was over and it was time for you to return home. You bid Diana goodbye for the day, although she wasn’t going to recognize that you were leaving. She had been in a weird space lately so it was harder for her to really know what was happening. 

Life went on, going through the motions of bringing Diana her mail of the day for a few days in a row. As suspected, she was the only one with mail today until you saw your name in the same handwriting as the last one. As you rushed to open it, something fell out. A piece of paper labeled, “read me to diana.” 

“Dear y/n, 

Yes, I am an FBI profiler with the Behavioral Analysis Unit (or BAU). Yes, I know you aren’t in my mother’s healthcare worker detail but I also know that you spend time with her every day. I may not see my mother but I might stop by every now and then to check in on her, even if she doesn’t know I’m there. And if she doesn’t know, you don’t know. But I know you. I know you were nervous to write to me, your handwriting was shaky and wouldn’t stay on a line. The way you gripped the pen was probably tighter than normal. You slant down, meaning something is weighing on you, but not low enough that you aren’t on a relatively straight line. I suspect you’re a little younger than me, based on the way you dot your i’s and cross your double t’s. It suggests that you still believe in impossible things. And of course, you’re curious because you asked me to profile your handwriting. I’ve also seen you before so I know we’re about the same age and yes, you are very cute. My mother is a schizophrenic but she’s not completely delusional. 

How did the letter reading go? 

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

How had you never seen him? How did you never see him, as long as his mother has been here. Maybe you did see him but he was unremarkable? Diana was hardly unremarkable so her son must be of similar construct, right? 

You thought about this before you wrote him back. It was a quick message, nothing too intricate. You were a little bit more careful about how you held the pen, since he knew you were nervous last time. You wrote to him about how the letter reading went: she loved the poem. You guessed that Spencer would know that but sent it anyway to make her happy. But that still doesn’t answer the question, “why you?” 

Another few days passed but you couldn’t stop thinking of Spencer. You tried looking him up on the internet and found out he was just as brilliant as his mother. That was a plus. Negative was he was not on any social media unless it was an article about him. Eventually you gave up and just went back to trying to imagine him in your head. Was he tall? Was he short? What did he like to do in his free time? He has seen you but you haven’t seen him… That wasn’t fair. 

When you opened his next letter, you were sitting outside in the grass, across from Diana sitting on the bench. She was having a particularly tough day so she wasn’t up to reading you her letter. You told her you would still keep her company until your shift ended and she seemed to like that. 

“Dear y/n, 

You ask a lot of questions. Are you sure you’re not profiling me? And yes, I have witnessed your connection with my mother before but you wouldn’t recognize me in a crowd. I’m average, nothing special. You care for her in a way I never could… That’s why I wrote to you. I’ll see you on Friday.

Sincerely, 

Spencer W. Reid”

You didn’t think about how you interacted with Diana that made a difference. You just thought about why Spencer would want to talk to you… He said Friday. Which was today. Today was Friday… He could be anywhere! You had to find him and get some questions answered up close. 

You looked for anyone who might look remotely like Diana, frantically searching while looking nonchalant. Of course, he knows what you look like so you can’t seem desperate and like you’ve lost it. You also didn’t want to worry any of the residents. 

“Excuse me.” You said, trying to get past a guy who was standing in the doorway. He turned slightly and looked at you. He had a sad smile on his face and his hands in his pockets. He looked like someone who didn’t fit into the sea of people visiting their family members. Fridays were busier than the rest of the week so he could be anyone but you had a hunch by the way the guy was staring in the direction where Diana was sitting. 

“Spencer W. Reid?” You said, watching the sad smile get a little bigger. 

“You figured me out? How did you do it?” He said, scooting over so he wasn’t standing directly next to you. 

You didn’t take that as an offensive action. His mom did the same thing. They both had a thing about people touching them. 

“You were standoff-ish. And you’re dressed like you’re important.” You said, confidently. 

You had been googling what a profiler was and how to do it since the second letter. You thought it was the coolest job in the world but you liked where you were at, caring for people close to home. 

“So you profiled me.” Spencer turned towards you a little more.

“Yes, Dr. Reid, I did.” You triumphantly put your hands on your hips. 

“I never told you I was a doctor.” He said, knowing your nonchalant facade was going to fall apart that minute. 

“Well… Okay, I googled you.” You sighed. 

“The internet has its uses... “ He said, looking over at his mom again. 

He looked like he was getting cold feet of some sort. You saw him moving a little bit more and his eyes becoming a little flighty. 

“Do you want to step outside, into the lobby?” You asked, to which he nodded. He almost looked relieved not to be forced to go over there. 

“You don’t have to go over there. I don’t have to tell her you were here.” You said, sitting on the opposite side of the lobby bench to you. 

“No, she should know I came for her birthday.” He said, looking down at his hands. 

It wasn’t very often that the visitors got anything special on their birthdays. Unless their family did something within set guidelines, there was no celebration that happened here because it could set off one of the other residents in the facility. 

“That’s sweet. She would enjoy that.” You said smiling a little bit. 

“She’ll get her wish.” He said, wanting to chuckle. 

“And what’s that?” You wondered what he could possibly be talking about. 

“Seeing us together. I mentioned it in a letter previously, that she occasionally mentions that you and I would look cute together.” He said, finally looking up at you. 

“Oh, yeah. She has said that I needed to meet you once or twice before. We talk about you a lot. I feel like I know you.” You said, breaking eye contact. You were embarrassed that you told him that you talk about him when this is the first time you’ve ever met him. 

“Well, I don’t know much about you.” He paused. “Do you think you would want to tell me more?” 

“Oh well sure. Where do you want to start? My whole backstory is wild.” You looked up at him. 

It took a second for you to recognize what he was saying. 

“oh , you mean. Yes, that would be fun.” You said, attempting to remain calm. You just scored yourself a date and you didn’t do anything but write letters. Maybe you should be a pen-pal more often.

[writeyouin]

Tfa request #1: what is the thoughts of bumblebee/jet twins/ blurr/ sari ( when she’s a teen! ) who has a crush on a dorky yet kind hearted person and what is thier reaction of when they kiss s/o, she fainted or got a nosebleed...( this happened to me but I fainted =u=|| )

TFA X Reader Inserts – Blowing a Gasket

A/N – Hey anon, hope you had a good birthday. Here is a gift for you.

Warnings – None.

Rating – T

Bumblebee

“YEAH,” Bumblebee cheered, punching the air victoriously. He was the only one who had opted out of the nature walk that Prowl had planned, and without Sari who was with her father for the day, he was left alone with the video game console.

You had dropped by only a little earlier to see everyone and had opted to read your book until they all came back. Normally, you would have played something with Bumblebee, but he seemed to be enjoying the single player game so you had left him to it.

“Nice job,” You said, looking up at the screen and seeing that he had finally gotten the golden relic he was after.

“Nice job?” Bumblebee repeated cockily. “I think you mean that I’m the king of ALL videogames.”

You snickered, “That is so precious. You want to talk to me about being the best player, then come back when you’ve got a platinum relic.”

Bumblebee tutted, “Those are impossible. Nobody can win one.”

“Move over amateur,” You said, taking the controller from Bumblebee and moving the small bandicoot on screen onto a level you knew well.

Starting the time trial, you caused the character to jump, spin, crush boxes, and generally beat the score Bumblebee had set. By the end of the level, you were the proud owner of a platinum relic.

“NO WAY!” Bumblebee goggled at the screen. “HOW DID YOU DO THAT?”

You stretched victoriously, “Years of practice. You know, if you play the second game and jump on the head of the polar bear in warp room two ten times-”

Bumblebee tried to look as if he was hanging onto your every word while internally, he was freaking out. How had he never noticed how cute you were before? It was so obvious. Maybe you had a crush on him too? Wait- A CRUSH! Colour rose to Bumblebee’s face plates.

‘Oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no, oh no. What if (s)he doesn’t feel the same? I need to know, right now. Why is (s)he still talking about the game? Can’t (s)he see what’s going on here?’

Unable to be patient and wait for an opportune moment wherein Bumblebee might learn if you had feelings for him, he dove at you, pressing his lips against yours, making you let out a muffled yelp.

Pulling away, Bumblebee stared at you, waiting for you to say something. Blood rushed to your face, turning it beet-red. You squeaked as blood started trickling from your nose.

“Primus!” Bumblebee screeched, jumping back.

“It’s okay,” You tried to explain, cupping your nose to catch the blood.

“HOW IS THIS OKAY? YOU’VE BLOWN A GASKET!”

Bumblebee practically drove off to get Ratchet, forgetting his comm-link in his panic. You meanwhile, were left to mop up your bloody nose and search for an explanation by the time Bumblebee came back; all in all, it wasn’t the smoothest first kiss.

The Jet Twins

Jetfire and Jetstorm were listening intently as you talked about the movies you were going to show them back at the base. You had a feeling they would like your old favourites as much as you did. The twins both loved that you took the time to teach them about Earth media and its origins. You were like a walking dictionary of what was cool and what wasn’t, yet if they liked a character or plot that you didn’t, you welcomed the new opinion.

The three of you came to a busy crossing where you had to wait for the traffic lights to change. As you chattered away, the twins gave a small nod to each other, indicating that it was time for something they had been planning since Megatron’s defeat.

Bending down to your height, they simultaneously kissed your cheeks. Afterwards, your head swivelled from Jetfire to Jetstorm, who were both grinning triumphantly.

“I- I- Uh-” You opened your mouth to say something more, but nothing came out. Instead, in a rush of nerves, you crumpled to the floor in a faint.

Jetstorm picked you up, watching you curiously, “Brother, I think she may have-”

“-overheated, yes it seems to being that way,” Jetfire finished his brother’s statement.

“Do you think her cooling fans are to be working?”

“I am thinking that human fans may be slower than ours, brother.”

“Let us be carrying her home then.

“Yes, lets.”

With that, the twins took turns to carry you home, each eager to hear what you thought of their kiss once your heating systems returned to optimal condition.

Blurr zipped back and forth in front of your house, waiting for you to come home. He had repeatedly run this one stretch of path for four hours; he’d been at it so long that the path was a mess of tire marks and scraped concrete. Far too anxious to stop for even one second, Blurr remained a prisoner of his thoughts, running to keep a hold of his sanity.

During the war, Blurr was only consumed with thoughts about the Decepticons. Now that those dark times were behind him, Blurr had time to think about other things… mainly you. He’d always known that he had liked you as a friend. You were one of the few people that could keep up with his fast mind and faster mouth after all. However, he had only realised that very day that he liked you.

Blurr hated the anxiety of wondering what you would think of him romantically. It made him erratic, like there was a swarm of scraplets living in his brain, threatening to tear him open from the inside out. There was really only one solution and that was to tell you how he felt; whether you accepted or rejected his affections, Blurr would at least have an answer and that would be enough.

Finally, Blurr saw you coming around the corner of your street. He rushed forward to you and started jabbering.

“(Y/N),IhaveromanticfeelingsforyouandIthinkyoumayreturnthemifyoujustgivemeachance.Itdoesn’tmatterthatwe’refromtwodifferentspeciesifwedon’tletitmatter,therehavebeenweirdercouplesinthepast.Whati’mtryingtosayiswillyougooutwithme?”

You stared blankly at Blurr. Usually, you were able to keep pace with his fast talking but there was no way to understand the fast-paced speech he had just given you.

“Excuse me, what?” You asked, dumbfounded.

Panicked by the prospect of repeating himself over such a delicate manner, Blurr pressed his lips quickly against yours, pulling away just as fast to stare at you.

Only a few seconds later, blood started dripping down your nose. Blurr was sure he had hurt you, and cursed himself for his behaviour, starting a rant about human fragility, though you only caught snippets.

“BLURR!” You shouted exasperatedly, surprised that the usually confident bot was so nervous now. “I’m fine, it’s just a little nosebleed. I- I like you too.”

Blurr, somewhat exhausted from the override of emotions flopped onto the floor. After cleaning your nose up, you laid down next to him and the two of you relished a few minutes of calm, each momentarily lost for words.

Sari

You and Sari walked through the park on the way to meet the Autobots for a game of improvised baseball. As you talked, you noticed how subdued Sari was. She hadn’t been herself all day; clearly something was on her mind.

“A penny for your thoughts?” You asked, drawing her attention back to you.

Sari sighed, then forced a smile, “It’s nothing (Y/N), don’t worry about it. I guess I’m just distracted.”

“C’mon Sari, something’s bugging you. You may as well talk about it. I won’t judge, whatever it is.”

“I know you won’t. It’s just… I was thinking about by dad.” That first sentence seemed to unlock a flood-gate as Sari began spilling her guts, “I just worry that one day Megatron might want him back. What if he decides to take him again? My dad is totally defenceless, and he could end up building something way worse than a space-bridge. I get that it’s not likely, but I still worry, y’know?”

“Hey,” You said, grabbing Sari’s hand reassuringly. “It’s all gonna be okay. No more bad stuff is gonna happen to you, but if it did, then you’ll have the Autobots to help out, and me as well, even if I can’t punch Megadork through a wall.”

Sari giggled, and smiled at you. You always knew what to say. She only wished she had a way to show you how much you meant to her. Blushing at the idea that just crossed her mind, Sari kissed you before she could lose her nerve.

As soon as her lips left yours, you let out a nervous croak, fainting soon after. Sari stood over you for a minute.

“Hmm.” She prodded you a few times in a small attempt at waking you up. “That didn’t go exactly how I planned.”

She called the Autobots to let them know that she would be late to the baseball game due to an ‘unexpected delay,’ and then she laid down on the grass next to you, awaiting the moment you would regain consciousness.

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[simpforfictionalboys]

Secrets REQUESTS ARE OPEN FOR PETER PARKER!

Request- Yes @thollandx

Word Count- 2.7k

One party. You could so do that. One tiny party for your boyfriend. You are the Goddess of Magic. You could handle a small party.

Well apparently you can’t.

“Ned! Can’t you just keep him occupied for a couple more hours? The party is tomorrow and I swear to Od- God if he finds out before-”

“I will but you have to make up an excuse.” Ned rushed out before he continued on “I got to go. Don’t screw this up- he deserves this,” You thanked Ned for the trust that he put in you with a roll of your eyes.

You were currently working out a plan with May so that he would be busy until the party when someone else texted you other than May.

Peter.

Peter- Hey can I swing by and talk to you?

Shit. You couldn’t do that- you had already had tons of balloons and decorations stacked in your house not to mention the other plans you had.

You- Sorry, I am hanging out with a friend. Can I talk to you tomorrow.

Peter- Of course.

You didn’t quite realize that he meant of course by ‘of course you were busy’ and not that he agreed for him to talk to you tomorrow.

After a couple of hours you were sure that you had everything set up to perfection- ever since coming to Midgard to do you godlessly things you always seemed to stick to Peter.

He was just an ordinary boy in the eyes of your father or your uncles- if they knew about him- but he was everything to you.

He didn’t even know that you were from an entirely different planet- he just thought that you were home schooled somewhere in a place called Idaho.

He showed you Queens as well as a lot of other things and he opened the world up to you and you wanted to show him how much that he means to you.

A knock rang out from the front of your house- your mom wasn’t going to be home because she was at the lab so you didn’t know who it was.

You looked over at yourself hair messed up from painting the banner for his birthday a bit of black paint smeared on your inner arm and forearm.

As we walked over to the door you started to wonder who it could be, your family was- interesting.

As Thor Odinson and Jane Foster as your parents you honestly never thought about what could walk through that door.

And at the moment you didn’t think you would be answering the door to your loving boyfriend who looked as though he was going to punch a whole through your door.

“P-Peter-” You stuttered out shoving the door so that he couldn’t see into the house and to your birthday decorations.

“We need to talk.” He motioned to go inside before you shut the door quickly behind you with a nervous look to him.

He knew you were hiding something.

“What’s in your house that you don’t want me to see. Or Who?”

“No one is in my house, just me- my mom is working.” You confessed truthfully as another look crossed his face.

“I thought that you were hanging out with a friend.”

He got you there, he really did get you- you stumbled to come up with an excuse but nothing showed up in your vocabulary.

It was like you were frozen. Not able to do anything other than watch your boyfriend come to false conclusions.

“I should have known.” He scoffed out running a hand through his hair a hurting look on his face.

“Peter- it’s not that. I swear-” Cheating. He thought that you were cheating on the love of your life. You don’t think that you could even think about doing that without throwing up.

“No- I’ve wanted to talk for the past couple of months and you are always disappearing. I should have known about girls like you.”

“Girls like me? What do you mean-” A stark bit of anger slid its way into the conversation.

“Beautiful, Popular. I should have known that you were lying when you said that you loved me. Did you enjoy seeing me fall for you even though you were just playing me behind my back?”

Father- Come to Avenger’s tower. There is a family matter that we need to attend to.

“Is he in there right now? Texting you. Asking why you are talking to your nerd boyfriend?” He had it all wrong and he should have known that.

“No, this is my father.” The truth squeezed its way out as looked as betrayal crossed his features.

You- Dad, I can’t right now.

“You absentee father is texting you. Really Y/n?” Tear started to leak from your eyes, you were caught in a lie- it wasn’t a good one and it would risk everything that you built for yourself.

“Were done.” Those to words shook you, he was breaking up with you. You couldn’t tell him who you were- it would put everything that you built to ruins.

“Peter!” You screamed out but it didn’t seem to help well he was already walking away at an almost inhuman speed.

Father- Your uncle is trying to take over Midgard again. He has the cube.

Your angry tears flooded down your face as you watched Peter leave you broken-hearted. You had to go- this was your civic duty as a Goddess on earth. And your couldn’t leave that behind you swore to it.

***

Slamming his door Peter Parker grounded his teeth his face red from the tears that he shed over his girl- ex girlfriend.

“What’s wrong?” Ned came over to his broken friend who seemed as though he was dying.

“She is cheating on me. She has to be.”

“What? No she’s not. This is Y/n that we are talking about. She loves you so much, Peter. Please tell me that you didn’t do anything irrational.”

“I broke up with her.” Peter quietly choaked out still believing the worst as he sunk his head into his hands.

“Peter. You just ruined your life.” Ned yelled at him.

“How can you believe her over me? I thought you had my back, Ned.” Ned grabbed out his phone before pulling out the conversation with you.

His eyes scanned over the text as his heart broke all over again. She was texting Ned.

Y/n- I just found out that I can’t hold a paintbrush to save my life. Remember to keep Peter busy today.

Shit, I just spilled paint all over the carpeting.

Ned- Y/N! How do you do that?

Y/n- I am trying to do something nice for my boyfriend so hush, Ned!

I just called May, you guys are going to do something tomorrow and don’t ruin it. Please. Peter needs a break.

Ned- I know that, Y/n. And you don’t screw up either this is going to be important for him. I’ll go to him to go to like Lego land. He loves that.

Or get him a light-saber! We could watch all of the star wars movies at my house!

Are you still doing the Iron Man theme he is a slut for Iron Man.

And Nachos. Get him Nachos too and he will love you forever.

Y/n- My boyfriend is a slut for a 45 year old man. Okay.

Just found out that I am bad at writing on cakes with icing.

Ned, I miss my boyfriend so much. Can’t I just see him really quick, I miss cuddle times.

How do you work a fire extinguisher. My curtains are on fire!

We’re good now.

Ned- why are you in charge of the party?

And no! You wait until the party then you can have all of the ‘cuddle time’ that you want.

The party. They were planning a birthday party for him.

“You better fix this. Now, Peter.” Ned yelled at the boy who looked shocked at the phone. He had just broken up with the love of his life for no reason what so ever.

He ran over to the door getting your number on his phone and dialing it over and over again but you didn’t answer.

His phone buzzed and he immediately grabbed it hoping that it was you but his heart dropped at what he saw.

Mr. Stark- Come to the tower now kid. Bring your suit. Loki’s going bat shit and trying to take over the world again.

***

"You guys stand back. This isn't your fight." Thor Odinson commanded to the Avengers as he watched his brother try to take over New York Square, shooting bursts of light every so often.

"The Hell it isn't. What are you going to do it yourself?"

"Just evacuate the people. We will take care of the rest." Before anyone could question the God he roared into action slamming his hammer in the direction of his brother in which he barely ducked.

Slam after slam Thor hit after his brother only to get caught of guard not really feeling as though he should electrocute his brother.

Sending a bolt of lightning towards his brother he barely made it to the ground before catching a a side of the building sending a crack into a side of a main building.

You crept towards the side of the building seeing two people rushing others through the boundaries- Iron Man and Spider-Man. You didn't know that Peter was the Spider Man but he knew who you were as you were wearing civilian clothes.

As soon as he saw you he sprung forward trying to get you out of the area but Iron Man yanked him back keeping him from going anywhere near Loki.

"You don't want to do this, Loki!" You commanded to him as they watched your father coming to your side 2 gods next to each other.

"But I do, Y/n darling." Reaching into your pocket you grabbed a small pocket knife and cut your palm Peter bounded forward only to get stopped by Tony.

"Peter, I think that she is the back-up. Friday get Peter out of here." Peter looked at Tony about to tell him off when he was jerked to the ground- to the safety of a building, you slammed your palm into the ground.

It was euphoric as you felt your asgardian battle gear took over your form another person materializing next to you and behind you. Sif.

Lightning struck to your outreached hand your blade appearing in front of you, a blade forged by your own father.

Loki did what he did best he created illusions and one by one you sent strikes of electricity and of your own powers through them to determine whom was real and whom was fake.

Your father was doing something similar as you narrowed in on the staff that your uncle was holding.

"Komme" You muttered in Norse the staff coming you you immediately but it was redirected as he sent a force towards him.

Barely having a moment to duck you bared to the ground Sif sending her shield ricocheting away the blast. Again and again he sent it after you as you absorbed the blows with your blade before sending another blast causing him to fall over giving him a moment of weakness.

Sif gave the last blow her shield to his side as you grabbed the staff. It felt cool in your hands as it rested. Your father coming over to you as though to check if you were okay his hands wrapping around your waist to hug you softly.

"I missed you, dad."

"I am that great you know, I was only in Asgard for a week." You rolled your eyes trying not to think about the whole Peter situation and cry about it with your mom later.

Your dad was going to kill Peter if he ever found out that you were even dating. As you pulled away you saw the harsh gaze of your mentor on Asgard. The Iron man and Spiderling were coming closer to you- close enough to hear your conversation.

"Lady Sif..."

"Not a word, Princess. Thor Odinson, I thought that you were making sure that your daughter wasn't getting into any trouble on Midgard."

"Well its not my fault that my uncle is a narcissistic backstabbing little wanker." Loki made a sound from his mussel. "Not another word uncle otherwise I am going to hit you with a God bolt."

"What can I say, she is like her father."

"Dad- I want to go back with you." He looked over in conformation as you softly said it and he could tell that there was something on your mind.

"Wait here. Metal Man, Man of Spiders come here." You watched as the males came closer to you and Sif, Loki made a move to escape and within one moment you struck him with a bolt rendering him unconscious.

"Y/n!" You gave Sif a sly look as shifted out the staff and your sword still in your hands.

"I will take this, thank you very much." You glared at your god mother as she plucked the sword from your grasp.

"Who are you?" The Iron Man asked you his face thing off as you saw a sly smile on your face that you didn't know why was there.

"Y/n-"

"Thordottir. She goes by Foster on your planet. Jane thought it would be a better idea than Thordottir, she already has enough attention on her from having my godly good looks."

"I'm a god too remember, Father? And I'm more powerful than you." He scoffed at your audacity before pushing you behind him jokingly.

"Princess, might I remind you that he can send you to the Jotunheim for the next hundred years. As for the Princeling here, we will seek him to Asgardian justice."

"How many other Asgardian people live on earth, I'm just wondering."

"In one moment none. My daughter, Sif, Loki, and I will be returning to Asgard." Even if it was just a day you wanted to go. Peter wouldn't want to see you anyway no matter what you said to him.

"What?" A deep almost fake voice said from the spider suit as you looked over to it.

"Do I know you?" You questioned as though feeling some sort of familiarity with it, like you knew who it was but you couldn't put your finger on it. But when he tugged his mask off it all came into place. "Peter?"

"Wait, how do you guys know each other?" Your father asked as you stuttered out the truth without thinking using the language your father taught you.

"We are- were courting." You guys were done with he had made that clear but- he was spider-man. That didn't seem like it was coming at all.

"Courting? Are you joking? No, you are only 210 years old. What? Hold on. With the spiderling. Is he the reason you want to go back to Asgard?" Before your father could say anything else you grabbed onto Peter's arm and teleported back to your house.

It was almost a reflex for you, to teleport without a second thought, but it certainly wasn't for Peter. The look on his face showed that.

"Sorry, my father can get a bit overprotective when it comes to me. I totally understand if you want to go-" Before you could do anything the male stepped next to you holding you to him. On habit you changed out of your gear and into your regular Asgardian silks.

“I was stupid. I’m so so sorry, Y/n. Please take me back.”

“I should have told you and not snuck behind your back but then again we were both keeping secrets from each other.” You came up with an idea as you stepped away from him- he looked scared almost as you looked onto him in his suit.

“Hello, I’m Y/n Thordottir. I am Asgardian.” A silly grin went back on your boyfriends face as he noticed what you were doing.

“I’m Peter Parker, I’m from earth. And I’m spider-man. Would you do me the honor of courting me?” You laughed at the language that he used on you as stepped closer to him wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I would love that, Peter Parker.” 

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[jbbarnesnnoble]

Hello lovely humans!

I’ve recently hit the 500 follower milestone and want to celebrate with another challenge! This time, dark fics are welcome! 

I have a lot of prompts here and what doesn’t get used will probably be put aside for a future challenge. I like to make sure there is a wide array of prompts to be chosen from and tend to go overboard. Whoops. 

The Rules: 

1. Use the hashtag #JBBNN500 

2. Dark fics are welcome - Just be sure to utilize trigger warnings and indicate that it is a dark fic. 

3. Even if you aren’t writing a dark fic, use trigger warnings if the content warrants it. If you write something that has heavier themes, like those that delve into mental health topics, be sure to label it appropriately. 

4. Selecting Prompts: Just let me know which one you want to do! 2 people per prompt! Tell me which subheading and the number of the prompt so I can mark it down! If it’s a lyric prompt, please give me the song and the number! 

5. You don’t have to be following to participate! 

6. Deadline: January 11, 2021

Yes, I’m giving about 3 months for this. January 11 also happens to be my birthday, so I figured that would be a good date to choose. 

The subheadings are: dialogue prompts, sentence prompts, quotes from popular media, and song lyrics!

Find the prompts under the cut! 

Dialogue Prompts

“Life is made up of maybes and regrets. I don’t want this to be one of them.”

“You can’t do this. It’s my choice to make, and mine alone. If you don’t agree with it, the door is there. Feel free to use it.”

“I used to be afraid of the dark, you know. Until I learned that the real monsters thrive in the light.” 

“So, what you’re saying is if I gave you a nickel, you’d do it.”

“No, I don’t know how the cheese got there, and honestly, I don’t think I want to know.” 

“You’re sounding more like a cult leader every time you open your mouth. Don’t think I’ll be accepting any Flavor Aid from you anytime soon.” 

“How did you...you know what, I’m going to forget I saw a thing, and go read a book. Or bathe in Holy Water. Or both. Both is good.” 

“If you say one more word I swear--” “One more word” “I hate you” 

“You can’t come in here singing my favorite song and expect forgiveness, that’s not how this works!”

“No. You mean nothing to me. You never did. You never will.” 

“But if it did, it would work and you can’t convince me otherwise.” 

“You are simultaneously the smartest and least intelligent person I have ever meant. Truly, an amazing accomplishment.” @bonkywobble​

“Next thing you’re going to say is that ghosts are real...please tell me that’s a joke” 

“All I’m saying is, I could do that blindfolded.” 

“But why was there pizza on the ceiling?” 

“If you write me a four thousand word essay on why you think that’s a good idea, then sure.” 

“I didn’t think you were serious. Do you know how illegal this is?!” 

Sentence Prompts

Feel free to change the pronouns used to suit your needs, even if they aren’t bracketed! You can also change the tense if you need to! 

The January rain fell, feeling like razors against [your/her/their] skin as [you/she/they] stared out over the horizon.

This was it, the moment where life as [you/she/they] knew it ended.

 [His/her/their] gaze fell on [her/you], like a lion circling its prey. 

You never thought that it would come to this, come to being the one to end it all. 

You took a moment to calculate [his/her/their] next move, figuring out the perfect counter. 

Hanging by your ankles from a tree was most definitely not how you planned on spending your Saturday. 

Glancing around the room at the decor, one thing was obvious: it was [his/her/their] doing. 

Hurt was the only thing you felt, the only thing you could cling to in this abyss.

Lies, it had all been lies and they were crumbling around you. 

The screech of tires on the pavement sent a shiver down your spine.

He/She used to love this time of year, the beauty of it all. 

It was like climbing Everest: ambitious, dangerous, and maybe a little insane. 

Forgiveness was not something you were willing to offer so freely, not this time. 

Chaos may as well have been the code name of this mission. @nekoannie-chan​

Silence was your new best friend, one that never seemed to leave you alone.

That smile, that smile was something you could get used to waking up to every day. 

Your face twisted in disgust as you realized what you had fallen into.

You were beginning to wish you had taken [him/her/them] up on that trip to Madrid. 

Quotes from Popular Media:

With these prompts specifically, you can use the full thing, paraphrase, etc, since some of them are quite long, or just write something based off an idea it sparks. 

“There are so many stories where some brave hero decides to give their life to save the day, and because of their sacrifice, the good guys win, the survivors all cheer, and everybody lives happily ever after. But the hero... never gets to see that ending. They'll never know if their sacrifice actually made a difference. They'll never know if the day was really saved. In the end, they just have to have faith. Ain't that a bitch.” -Epsilon, Season 13, Red vs Blue 

“We're so arrogant, aren't we? So afraid of age, we do everything we can to prevent it. We don't realize what a privilege it is to grow old with someone. Someone who doesn't drive you to commit murder or doesn't humiliate you beyond repair.” - Daniel, P.S I Love You 

“After centuries of men looking at my tits instead of my eyes and pinching my ass instead of shaking my hand, I now have the divine right to stare at a man's backside with vulgar, cheap appreciation if I want to!” - Denise, P.S. I Love You

“Life isn't just death. Don't ignore the living.” - Vada Sultenfuss, My Girl

“Life's full of barbaric customs. But I hope they all end with a kiss like that.” - Vada Sultenfuss, My Girl 

"You're a little scary sometimes, you know that? Brilliant ... but scary." - Ron Weasley, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone 

"It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends." - Albus Dumbledore, Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone 

"I’ll be in my bedroom, making no noise and pretending I’m not there." - Harry Potter, Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets 

“Sweetie, this is one of those times when I know what's right and everybody else is confused.” - Angela Montenegro, Bones, Season 3 

“Oh, God. I'm in the middle of something, aren't I? Oh, look! Dead guy!” - Cam Saroyan, Bones, Season 5

“Don’t make it sound trivial when you know it isn’t. You keep talking about how we just need a little more time, but you’re not the one having to struggle.” -Nora, RWBY, Volume 7

“It's called survival. But I forgot, you two at best are functional morons.” - Crowley, Supernatural, Season 5, Episode 10

“I once had to judge a tighty-whitey contest for Lambda Kappa Pi. Trust me, I can handle anything.” - Elle Woods, Legally Blonde 

“How were we supposed to know? It's not like we run background checks on all her boyfriends.” - Kathryn Kennish, Switched at Birth

“Don’t try to get on my good side. I no longer have a good one” - Ouiser, Steel Magnolias 

“I would rather have thirty minutes of wonderful than a lifetime of nothing special.” - Shelby, Steel Magnolias 

“You have the handwriting of a serial killer” - Clairee, Steel Magnolias 

“I didn’t know if you would hire someone who might be married to someone who may or may not be a criminal” - Annelle, Steel Magnolias 

Lyric Prompts

What Do You Think Of - Lauren Alaina ft. Lukas Graham

What do you think of when you think of me?

When you look back on us what do you see? Is it the good times, is it the bad times, is it somewhere in between? 

I can’t even drive down 8th Avenue because the whole damn town reminds me of you

Hurts to Know - 1551

But you stayed when I made another promise to keep

And you waited and waited for the life you saw in your dreams 

You walk in and begin to try to heal me again, but each night is a fight that’s getting harder to win.

Sick - 1551

Everyone I meet feels like another target

I’m feeling sick, I’m feeling twisted, I wasn’t home before this feeling existed 

I never knew that wrong could feel so right

seven - Taylor Swift

Sweet tea in the summer, cross your heart won’t tell no other, and though I can’t recall your face, I still got love for you

Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long

I think your house is haunted, your dad is always mad and that must be why 

We’ll hide in the closet, and just like a folk song, our love will be passed on 

the last great american dynasty - Taylor Swift

How did a middle class divorcee do it? 

The wedding was charming, if a little gauche 

And they said “There goes the last great American dynasty. Who knows if she never showed up what could have been.” 

epiphany - Taylor Swift 

With you I serve, with you I fall down 

Something med school did not cover

And some things you just can’t speak about 

Chapters - Brett Young

Chapter one, I was raised on the Dodgers 

There’s no perfect life, you can’t hold back time

Everybody expecting perfection 

Things change in the blink of an eyelid, guess my body knew way more than I did

The Daughters - Little Big Town

Girl, know your place, be willing and able 

Girl, watch your mouth and watch your weight

Pose like a trophy on a shelf, and dream for everyone but not yourself

I wash the dishes, feed the kids, and clean up all this mess, do my best, forgive myself, and look good in this dress

It Won’t Always Be Like This - Carly Pearce 

I remember how I couldn’t wait to get out of my hometown, now I’m looking for every excuse to go back on the weekend

I remember hearing the door slam, twenty-two, didn't have a clue who I was, who I could trust, and who were my real friends

The heart won’t ache forever, no matter how hard it gets, it won’t always be like this

Next Girl - Carly Pearce 

You overlook a lot when he looks like that

He’ll charm your mama with that smile, hide the red flags for a while 

He’ll make you think it’s love, but I promise you it’s not 

Bar Back - Lauren Alaina 

You can have that coffee shop we went on our first date

I’ll give you back that sweatshirt, that one you know I love

I’m taking back that little hole in the wall, the red door sign saying “come on in y’all”

If I Was a Beer - Lauren Alaina

Honey you’re in luck, ‘cause I’m a fine, fine, wine. I’m a slow sweet pour, I can be a little bitter, but I ain’t a hard hitter, like a 30 from the grocery store

Waiting for Superman - Daughtry

She says “he’s still coming, just a little bit late” 

She’s talking to angels, counting the stars, making a wish on a passing car

If life was a movie, then it wouldn’t end like this 

Before You Go - Lewis Capaldi

When you hurt under the surface, like troubled water running could, well time can heal but this won’t

Before you go, was there something I could have said to make your heart beat better?

Our every moment, I start to replay, but all I can think about is seeing that look on your face  @arrowsandmixtapes​ 

Hard to Forget - Sam Hunt

It's kinda funny how I can't seem to get away from you, it's almost like you don't want me to

You’ve got a cold heart and the cold hard truth

Told me to leave all your things out on the porch on the swing

Oh you’re breaking my heart, baby you’re playing hard to forget 

This is It - Scotty McCreery

You can open your eyes

Can’t you see forever 

On top of the world here together

If there ever was a time for a perfect kiss, this is it 

Wish You’d Miss Me - Chase Wright

I was good for you, you were bad for me 

I was solid ground, you were broken wings 

I gave you love you gave me pain

You gave me hell, I gave you grace 

I knew all along that you were gonna leave 

What a Man Gotta Do - Jonas Brothers

I’m not trying to be your part time lover, sign me up for that full time @unnuevosoltransformalarealidad​

This Feeling - Chainsmokers ft. Kelsea Ballerini 

I lay out all my reasons you say that I need help

They tell me think with my head, not that thing in my chest

They got their hands at my neck this time 

I tell you all my secrets and you tell all your friends 

Hold onto your opinions and stand by what you say 

What Are You Gonna Tell Her - Mickey Guyton 

She thinks life is fair 

But what are you gonna tell her when she’s wrong?

What are you gonna tell her when she figures out that all this time you built her up just so the world could let her down? 

Do you tell her not to fight? 

Can you look her in the face and promise her that things will change? 

[e-of-west-glendia]

Happy birthday to the wonderful @imliterallyvirgilandlogan!! You are an absolutely amazing person and I love you to death.

(Apparently I’m incapable of writing fluff without angst so um enjoy this fluffy angsty mess. To be fair Sirius Black on Mother’s Day is basically a recipe for an inevitably angsty disaster.)

Something About Mother’s Day

(I can’t come up with creative titles)

Sirius sat on the edge of his bed watching Peter, James, and Remus finalize cards and wrap up gifts. It was Mother’s Day. His absolute least favorite day of the year.

Sirius had had bad experiences with Mother’s Day in the past. At the Black residence it was never a time of sweet celebration and kindness, it was always some dull party that was really just an excuse to showcase their wealth. Alternatively it was a meeting with all the Sacred 28 members. Sirius has found that those were the worst Mother’s Days. Sitting at a table, back straight, giving small, perfunctory nods to everyone he encountered and answering awkward questions about being in Gryffindor and producing heirs (he was 16 for god sake).

It had to be around noon when he finally decided that he should leave. There was no use in bringing everyone down with his feelings about this holiday.

Hopping off the bed, Sirius made his way to the door.

“Honestly, my mum is too nice for her own good. Last Mother’s Day she sent me a gift— Sirius where are you going?” James had stopped halfway through his sentence, glasses slipping down his nose as he peered over the top of them at his friend.

Sirius shrugged. “Nowhere in particular.”

Peter cocked his head to the side curiously, while James and Remus narrowed their eyes in suspicion.

“Sirius is something—“ but Sirius was gone before Remus had even finished his question.

Peter turned to the other two boys. “Do you think it’s because…” he started.

“Probably,” James and Remus said in unison.

~~~~~~~

Sirius found himself sitting by the lake. If he was being quite honest with himself he couldn’t even remember how he’d gotten out there in the first place. His mind had been swimming with images of that past winter.

Drunken screams and broken glass. Flashes of light of every color. And pain. Excruciating pain. The faint crack of broken bones— it had taken him a while to realize that they’d been his bones broken — and the sharp metallic scent of blood. Everything had been hazy after that. Regulus’ hands on him, silently cursing and muttering about something that Sirius had been too pain weary to try and listen to. Two flashes of green light— one that smelt sickly sweet and poisonous, death laced in every syllable. The other, light and warm and smelling slightly of ash and burnt wood. Then he passed out in the Potters living room to the sounds of James screaming for his parents.

A light tap on his shoulder almost made him jump. He looked behind him and almost jumped again when he saw who it was. He quickly schooled his features into something befitting the infamous Sirius Black — Marauder and mischief maker extraordinaire.

“Ms Evans, to what do I owe the pleasure?” He asked.

Lily rolled her eyes at him. “Shut up, Black.”

Sirius laughed. Since becoming a prefect Lily and Remus had begun to hang out more. Which meant that Sirius saw more of her than he had in previous years and it also meant that she seemed to hate him significantly less. By significantly less he meant he would say hello to her in the halls and she wouldn’t completely ignore him. Unless of course James was around. Then she’d just leave.

Sirius raised an eyebrow at her. “What’s up? This has to be the longest conversation we’ve had all year.” A grin lit up his face. “What, have I finally started to grow on you?”

Lily turned slightly red and scowled at him. “No.” She said firmly. Then, “I just saw you sitting outside alone and I thought I’d make sure you didn’t get eaten by the giant squid. Actually, on second thought, I wouldn’t mind if the giant squid ate you.”

Sirius laughed again. “Isaura wouldn’t hurt me. We’re best friends.”

Lily snorted. “I’m sure that’s exactly what she thought when she threw you out of the lake last summer.”

Sirius shrugged. “Our relationship might have its ups and downs but I promise you we’ll withstand the test of time.”

“You’re an idiot,” Lily sighed. Then she peered down at Sirius. Sirius got the odd sense that she was analyzing him with that piercing green gaze.

“Something’s wrong, isn’t it?” she asked. He’d been correct.

Out of instinct he said. “Nope. Everything’s all good.”

Lily didn’t buy it for a second. “Uh huh sure. You’re sitting outside, by yourself, skipping stones across the lake while staring forlornly at the horizon. Not to mention it’s fucking freezing outside and you’re not even wearing a jacket. Meanwhile I just came from the common room where your friends are being idiots as usual.”

Sirius winced. She had a point.

“You don’t hide your emotions nearly as well as you think,” Lily finished.

Sirius grumbled something about meddling redheads that made Lily smile.

Lily chewed her bottom lip for a second before sighing and plopping down next to Sirius. Sirius glanced at her in confusion.

“Not going to run away screaming this time, Evans?”

“Har har.”

It was another few seconds of silence before Lily turned to Sirius.

“I heard about what...happened...over winter break,” she said cautiously.

The small smile that had been creeping onto Sirius’ face died immediately.

“I suppose Snivellous told you then.”

Lily bit her lip, fighting a retort against the nickname.

“Doesn’t matter where I heard it from. I just— what I’m trying to say is...I get it.”

Sirius snapped his head to her so quickly he almost gave himself whiplash.

“You get it,” he asked, voice nothing shot of venomous. “Oh I’m sure you ‘get it’. Because everyone understands what it’s like to be—“ he stopped short at the silencing hand the girl held up.

Sometimes the power Lily Evans commanded over people amazed him.

“Easy, Black. That’s not what I meant.”

Sirius gave her a look that clearly said well then what did you mean?

Lily sighed again, it sounded sad this time. Sirius almost felt bad for snapping at her. Almost.

“What I meant was...I know what it’s like to not have the best relationship with family members. And my situation is definitely nothing on yours,” she said quickly when she heard Sirius’ scoff. “But I know what it’s like to be the hated one— the outcast. And it sucks. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone, least of all you.”

Sirius stared at her but Lily kept speaking. “You’re a good person, Sirius. Annoying? Yes. Arrogant? Totally. A bit self absorbed? Definitely. But you’re a good person. You care about your friends and they care about you. Nothing your bitch of a mother says or does will ever change that.”

Sirius snorted at that last part. “Thanks.”

“Anytime.”

Sirius was silent again, debating on whether or not he should ask Lily the question that was now swimming in his mind.

“Hey Lil—“

“My sister,” Lily cut him off. “You were going to ask who in my family it was, right? It’s my sister Petunia. She’s hated me since I got my letter.”

Sirius winced slightly. He definitely knew a thing or two about difficult sibling relationships.

He didn’t apologize though. She wouldn’t want to hear that. Instead he said, “Yikes.”

“Much yikes,” Lily agreed.

“I meant what I said, y’know. About your friends. They really love you, Sirius. I mean you and James are basically brothers — practically joined at the hip. You and Peter are always laughing about something. And Remus,” she paused for a moment, as if debating on what her next words were going to be. “Remus, especially. He cares.”

For the millionth time that morning Sirius gaped still Lily. “What do you mean especially Re—“

“Speak of the devils,” Lily said, interrupting him and climbing to her feet. “I think I’d best be off now.”

Sirius squinted into the distance. He could vaguely make out his three friends picking their way across the wet grass towards them.

“Well Black it’s been fun. I swear I’ll kill you if you let it slip we ‘hung out’,” Lily said, framing her words in air quotes. Despite her menacing tone she was smiling.

“I don’t doubt it,” Sirius laughed.

Lily sent him one last smile before quickly setting off across the grass.

She was halfway to the greenhouses when the other three arrived at Sirius’ side.

James, in typical James fashion called out, “Hey Evans! How about you come with me to Hogsmeade this weekend?”

Sirius snorted at James as he watched Lily flip him the finger and shout something that sounded like “In your dreams, Potter,” over her shoulder before she disappeared around a corner, red hair flying around her face.

“Trying to steal James’ girlfriend?” Peter teased.

“Yeah!” James said, rounding on him. “What was that about.”

Sirius barked out a laugh. “You wound me Jamie. You really think I’d steal the future Mrs Potter from you?”

James spluttered incoherently at him. “Besides,” Sirius continued. “I’m not really into girls that psychoanalyze me.”

Remus snorted. “Yeah, she does that.”

Sirius looked up at Remus, reveling in the way the early morning sun turned his brown hair gold. He couldn't help staring at him, but could you blame him? Remus Lupin was beautiful in just about every way you could be. Inside and out. His mind flashed to what Lily had said about Remus. She couldn’t know that he was in love with Remus...could she? And she certainly hadn’t meant...had she? No, he thought firmly. She definitely hadn’t meant that. The odds of Remus liking him back were about 1 in a million and Sirius had never been high on good luck.

It seemed as though James had just remembered how far off the straight spectrum Sirius Black was because he said, “Oh...right...yeah…”

Sirius laughed at him. James’ face suddenly turned serious. “Right. Back to what we’re here for,” He said. “It’s Mother’s Day and Mumis fully expecting a card from both of her sons.”

Sirius gave him a confused look. “What do you mean both...?”

“Oh please,” James scoffed. “You heard what Mum said to Walburga on the platform back in January.”

Sirius very clearly remembered. Euphemia had looked down right murderous when she’d said, “And if you ever touch my sons again, Walburga, I won’t hesitate to kill you.” Even his mother, the unshakable Walburga Black, had taken a step back. Sirius had no doubts that Euphemia would make good on her threat. He smiled to himself. She kinda reminded him of Lily.

“And anyways you’ve been a Potter since the moment I met you.”

“He’s right,” Remus said, nudging Sirius with his foot. “You were a Potter long before you were formally adopted by them.”

“Exactly,” James said, nodding at Remus. “Now hurry up and sign the damn card. There’s going to be hell to pay if she doesn’t get a gift from both of us.”

James extended a hand to Sirius, which he accepted and allowed himself to be pulled to his feet.

“Best get started on that card then,” he said.

The four of them headed back across the lawn. Remus leaned down close to Sirius, his hair tickling the side of his face.

“What’d Lily say,” he asked softly in his ear.

Sirius repressed a shudder, mentally chiding himself at his reaction. Just friends. Just friends, he thought to himself. He sent a glance in Remus direction. Curious green eyes met grey and Sirius sighed. Taking what Lily had said to heart would really just be wishful thinking.

“Nothing,” he said.

“Hmm,” Remus said, unconvinced, but he didn’t press it.

Sirius grinned at him.

Despite the answer that Sirius had given Remus, something definitely had changed between Lily and Sirius. And though neither of them would ever admit it at the time, from that day forth Lily Evans and Sirius Black were most definitely friends.

[scriptaed]

it isn’t love.

genre: heavy angst/fluff; 

pairing: yoongi x reader x namjoon;

length: 2.4k;

synopsis: it all happened too fast. first, he held you in his arms in the couch of your living room, and next, he had packed all of his belongings and left you to an abandoned apartment without warning. now, he’s known as suga of bts and the only way you can cross paths with the renowned star once again is to win a date with his bandmate, kim namjoon. 

commissioned by @minyoongail​. thank you so much for supporting me and what i do! it means the world to me. enjoy c:

Wait, how did you end up here again? 

The boy’s face hovers just an inch or two above yours, alluring you back into reality. His tannish bangs hanging over his widened eyes obscure that look of his that tells you nothing in the world mattered at that moment except for the woman before him—you. His usual shifty gaze of tonight remains unusually affixed to yours. Calm, serene, pristine, the soft edges of his remind you of all that is good and deserving of nothing but good in the world… a stark contrast from the apple of his eye. 

Because there she is, peering up at the boy and shivering by the chill down her spine over her own frightening reflection. She came here not for the butterflies that she's felt and scorned throughout the fleeting romance, nor did she come here for love like the foolish man above her must have been led treacherously astray by. She came here on a mission for vengeance—yet here you are, neither capable nor willing to escape the aftermath of the fall. Eyes shrouded and chest heaved, the haze refuses to bid you farewell.

And you begin to wonder to yourself… what is it that you originally came here for? 

You weren’t always like this, for tonight had played out perfectly according to your plans. After submitting an impeccable design for BTS’s highly anticipated return and winning the worldwide competition hosted by BigHit Entertainment, your prize arrived as what should have been a one-time conversation with the one and only Kim Namjoon. Having gone to the lengths of pulling numerous all-nighters, nearly questioning your intentions and teetering on the edge of insanity, there really was no return from your perilous quest. So you pulled every trick of yours that had captivated Yoongi’s attention years ago. Like a sorceress and a swirl of her hands, you played your cards with the right words and the right time; and him, like the sacrificial pawn of your chest game, falls foolishly for your feigned infatuation. 

Your eyes had been on the prize all this time, so why does the beacon of light seem to dim by the second as you fall deeper into the rabbit hole? 

“H-Hey, I, um,” Namjoon scratches the back of his neck as he shuts his studio door behind you, “I’m sorry, I realize how dumb of a date this might seem.”

“No, it’s okay,” you assure him, because even if his role in your intricate plan has been fulfilled, you can’t bear the thought of hurting a friend close to Yoongi. “I’m sure your company has its own reasons, being an idol and all.”

Or in other words, the very reason he left you.

“Thanks for understanding,” he presses a smile at you, as if his heart wasn’t about to jump out of his chest at any moment; those dimples of his, however, blow his cover and threaten that of your own. You have no obligation to smile anymore, and yet, you do. The gullible continues, grin stretching from ear to ear. “I recall you mentioning something about movie nights and all… so I tried to create something cozy for tonight.”

The boy beckons for you to take a seat on his cushioned couch surrounded by what appears to be a pillow fort and you can’t help but wince in place at the all too familiar sight. It isn’t too long ago when another boy had stood in his place. Sure, he stood much shorter, much paler, and much less outwardly doting than the boy before you, but he was yours. He was yours before he was the rest of the world.

He was Yoongi before he was Suga. 

“Oh, I-I’m sorry,” he runs a nervous hand through his hair, “do you not like it? I tried my best. I even brought some Ryan cushions…”

“N-No,” you blurt the second something falls in your stomach for the most mysterious of reasons. Hastily, you shuffle toward the couch before the guilt could plague you further. “I like it. It’s just that… it’s been a while since someone’s done this for me. Thank you—”

—one second later, one step forward, one trip over his foot, and you’re sent tumbling into the couch just as he holds you between his protective embrace. 

And here you are, gazing at the victim of your hands and glaring at the reflection in his eyes. 

“You should be more careful,” you utter. 

“What? I think I should be the one telling you that, Y/N,” he furrows his brows, chuckling at your remark. “You know, we’re a funny pair. I’m usually the clumsy one.”

His words leave you silent and baffled. He’s too gullible, too trusting. He’s the worst nightmare personified for people like you. Here he is, inviting someone he thought he had a connection with, a spot millions of others would have done anything to be in. And here you are, taking advantage of a man in the hopes of meeting his colleague, his best friend, or in other terms, your ex. 

You should be careful of who you trust, you clarify inwardly to yourself, because even a shameless person like you can’t convince yourself to stain the gem before you. 

“I’m sorry,” you gulp, turning your head so that your eyes could stare at anything but his pristine eyes and your grotesque image, “can I use the restroom?”

“Huh? O-Oh,” his eyes widen when he realizes his position, hastily sitting up and releasing you from his hold with a bashful chortle. “Sorry. I just got caught up in the moment—um, the restroom should be down the hall on the left.” 

“Okay,” you say under your breath, excusing yourself without further explanation, “thanks.” 

Here you are. Closing the door behind you, the silence of the apartment Namjoon had so affirmatively emptied for movie night envelops you. A long breath in fills your aching chest and you take one irrevocable step forward into the dark path. Your heart beats harshly against your walls—whether from the painstaking guilt of betraying Namjoon or from the fear of what you’re about to do, you’re unsure—and it’s almost as if a red string of fate keeps you tethered to the man of your dreams as your feet find its way into the room you’ve long striven for. 

The aching nostalgia that comes with this dream of yours hits you at full speed, unapologetically and unwarranted. Because his scent surrounds you and has you swirling in a daze over the ephemeral moments he had wrapped his arms around you on the unconvincing excuse of being cold. Because his walls adorn the familiar drawings you had gifted him on his birthday and Christmas and any other day that you just can’t find an excuse to shower him with love. Because his tidy room and peculiar way of placing things remind you of the days when you had whined to him for being too perfect. 

Now, standing here in the flesh where you can neither confront nor spill your heart to the catalyst of your crestfallen state, you drown in the flood of regretful memories. Because you wish he hadn’t hugged you, otherwise you wouldn’t be craving for his touch like the way you do now. Because you wish he had tossed your gifts in the trash like he had with you on the fateful day when he left, for at least that would’ve further fueled your quest for revenge. Because he’s too perfect, too enigmatic, you just can’t seem to decipher the reason why he left you in the first place. 

Clutching the crinkled notes in your pocket, you vainfully muster the courage to bid your final farewell onto his desk when—

“—Y/N?” 

Low, familiarly croaked with a tint of surprise, his voice is like a bullet to your chest. Slowly turning around, your eyes trail from your feet, along the hardwood floor, to another pair of feet, up his jeans and sweatshirt, slowly, ever the more slowly, until your gaze locked with his. 

“What’re you doing here?” he asks, all too knowingly, because a few seconds of silence are enough for him to figure you out; and when his face contorts to one of disappointment intermixed with concern, your heart sinks at the inevitable turnout. Why is he pretending to care now? He shouldn’t care. “Oh. So you’re the winner.” 

“What?” you crack a wry laugh. “You’re surprised that I won?” 

“No,” he deadpans, burying his hands into his pockets. “I’m surprised you decided to win. I thought you wouldn’t want to see me anymore.” 

“Who said I won because I wanted to see you?” you snap, even as you stand in the middle of his room. “Why would I want to see my ex who didn’t even bother breaking up with me? Why would I watch you all this time on the other side of the TV, stupidly waiting for a man who couldn’t even face me in person?” 

“Y/N, babe,” he utters, taking a step forward and hesitantly reaching a hand out for yours, “I wanted to pursue this career and I couldn’t do it with—”

—his words come to an abrupt stop when you roughly slap his hand into the air. 

“Couldn’t what? Couldn’t do it with a dead weight like me? Because your company told you to abandon me? You tossed me aside for the sake of fame? You don’t get to call me babe,” your piercing glare has him silent, only augmenting the fire in your eyes. “And you dare to write songs about me? About us? You can’t do that. You can’t force me to listen to your stupid songs in the car or in the stores, you can’t subject me to you and your stupid apologies that I can’t even use my voice to stand up for myself. You can’t act like you’re the bigger person and you can’t apologize because I won’t accept it. You just can’t.”

And like the enigmatic way his darkened eyes peer down at you, unreadable and riddled with a swirl of your reflection, you find your resolve breaking down brick by brick. 

“...so you came here with Namjoon?” he questions, gaze never budging from yours. “To taunt me? To flaunt your new fling? Say it plainly, Y/N, you came to hurt me.” 

Your silence is the most telling answer of all. 

“...does Namjoon know?”

The answer which falls meekly from your barely parted lips has you as equally devastated as the boy standing before you. Who knew you would have fallen to such despicable tactics? 

“...no.”

Neither of you thought he could be any more disappointed until he twitches at your reply, brows furrowing and anger broiling under his composed facade. 

“Do you know how much Joon has been fawning over you lately? Do you even know how excited he was for tonight?” his voice crescendos along with the fury he holds in his clenched fists. Quickly, his fists retreat into his pockets and his voice returns to that irritating mumble of his that you’ve always found offence to. “He’s going to be broken if he finds out—”

“—then don’t tell him,” the words slip before you can take them back, “please don’t.”

Yoongi frowns at your shameless pleas, brows cinching and teeth grinding. Hesitantly and warily, he asks his next question. “...do you like him?”

Do you like him? 

You pause for a long, stagnant second. The very boy you had purposefully wrapped around your finger with the sole intent of hurting his friend, the one your heart truly remains betrothed to—do you even have the right to confess your feelings? If it weren’t for your wavering resolve, you could have easily refuted his leading question; but somewhere along the way, you’ve found yourself on a detour and now you’re standing before a fork in the road. 

“Y/N?” the both of you turn to stare wide-eyed at the man towering beside the door. He exchanges a confused look between the two of you and a pang of guilt hits you. “What’re you doing here?” 

 “Nothing—”

“—it’s not nothing,”’ you refute Yoongi’s attempt to cover your tracks, gulping with your head lowered in shame. “I… I used to date Yoongi. I came here because… b-because…”

The two boys watch you stumble over your own words. Yoongi stands there, wanting to help but knowing all too well that he just can't. The other boy, however, takes two wide, confident strides toward you and thaws your freezing hands in the warmth of his own. He presses his lips into a thin, upcurved line, “you said you used to date Yoongi, right? And you came here because of me, right?”

You’re just about to clarify when he squeezes your hand tightly, as if to usher you away from the incorrect answer and plea for you to speak a comforting lie. Head lowered and bottom lip bruised by your nibbling teeth, you nod reluctantly. 

Yoongi watches from afar, hands confined helplessly to his pockets. The boy remains affixed to his spot, somewhere far away and out of your touch—neither willing to spoil the nightmarish dream of his roommate nor willing to hurt his beloved’s next chance at a more deserving man. To him, he does out of love; but is this really love? 

Namjoon holds your hand, pulling you close where you could no longer slip from his sights. The boy refuses to acknowledge the truth, a trait you’ve come to know is a rarity for the man before you. He ignores your faults because he claims to love you, unwilling to lead you to an inevitable crash that you, yourself, had set on trek for; but even he questions his own proclamations of love.

And you, following the guidance of the boy before you and staring at the frightening reflection of the girl in his eyes, shiver at the top of a cliff that just never seems to end; because there she stands, too cowardly to face her spiteful ways and too eager to accept the help from the very victim of your underhanded quest. She says she does it out of love for the blossoming feelings long intoxicated by vengeance… but is it really love? 

Everyone knows the answer, all three witnesses of the fateful incident that night, but no one speaks the truth. 

It just isn’t love.