#prof just kinda blinked and nodded

[with-vorpal-sword]

professor brought up Neil Gaiman in class. asked if anyone knew who he was. i, an intellectual, raised my hand. she called on me, as it was the ONLY OPTION. NO ONE ELSE RAISED THEIR HANDS. i had been abandoned. despite this, i pressed on.

confidently, i began, "oh, i see him on tumblr a lot??1!" what had i been thinking? raising my hand in class? for what, a grade? confidence had all but left me.

"uh, he wrote..." mention good omens=be The Gay Kid forever and imply there might other opinions on religion then the ones held by this glorious christian institution!?

"... books."

Incredible work. one hundred participation grade coming my way i can smell it.

[slytherinboysappreciation]

OMG OMG i see ur fic abt prof riddle w the mreader n im in loveeee god its so cute 😭😭💖💖💖 have you ever thought when the roles were reversed? Like reader is a wizard that came from the future, he adopt tom from the orphanage n becomes a father to him n he's also the one that stopped tom from kill1ng ppl n shi omgg that would so cute give this man sum parental figure yall he needed it 😔🫶🫶

Adopted - T. R. x platonic male!reader

A/N: thank you so much for the request!! 💛 I’m so glad you like my fic!

This is the first part of a short series I’m planning for this request. It’s completely unedited and barely proofread. There’s no use of Y/N

CW: alternate universe, death mention, lying, manipulation, Reader is from the future, Reader lies to adopt Tom, slight Dumbledore bashing, slight fluff during the middle/end, this is kinda fast-paced sorry

691 words

In another universe, Tom Riddle was introduced to magic by Professor Dumbledore, a cunning old man who saw the evil before he saw the boy.

In another universe, Tom Riddle becomes Lord Voldemort, the most feared Dark Wizard since the old days.

In another universe, a couple dies for their baby, a boy too young to remember anything but his mother’s scream.

This is not that universe.

In this universe, Tom Riddle is introduced to magic by a very unconventional wizard. A man with no friends, odd mannerisms, and a habit of using strange spells.

You.

You appear in Tom’s life exactly half an hour before his fated meeting with Dumbledore.

You hurry up the steps to the orphanage and knock on the doors. They open to reveal a haggard woman with a sharp face. She questions you, and you lie as smoothly as still water.

A few moments later, you’re face to face with the boy.

Because that’s who he is, after all. An eleven year old boy with no friends, odd mannerisms, and a habit of talking to strange snakes.

He looks up at you, half scowling, half nervous. “Who are you?”

The lie rolls off your tongue with ease. “I’m your uncle.”

Tom waits till you get in the cab before asking questions.

“Are you really my uncle?” His expression clearly says he doesn’t believe it, but you can see the flicker of hope in his eyes.

“For all intents and purposes, yes.” You give him a slightly sympathetic look. “But no, I am not your kin.”

Tom wilts a bit. Then tries hard to hide it. “Oh. Okay.”

There’s a brief pause, then his forehead wrinkles. “Who are you, then?”

“You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

“Try me,” he challenges.

“I am a wizard,” you say calmly. “Sent back in time after an unfortunate mishap with a Time Turner artifact.”

Tom blinks. Stares. Tilts his head. “You’re… not lying… are you…?”

You give him an odd smile. You had to give it to him, the boy knew how to spot his lies.

“Of course I’m not lying. It’s far too ridiculous for me to have come up with something like that.”

You settle into your seat. “Besides, you’ll understand more once we reach my house.”

Tom, who still seems to be having a hard time digesting your earlier words, just nods quietly. You give him the silence of the car ride to figure his thoughts out. As a courtesy and all.

Tom seems to like your little house. It’s tucked away from the city, in a small village that’s used to your odd antics by now.

It’s quaint and cozy and just big enough for separate rooms for the two of you.

Tom surveys the house, then turns to you. “If you’re a wizard, I want to see your magic.”

You look down at him, amused. You can already tell he has a sharp mind, important for the days to come.

You pull out your wand and cast a simple spell. One that causes pretty blue butterflies to flit about the room.

Tom goes still, eyes wide. One of the butterflies flutters over to him and lands on his nose. He goes cross-eyed trying to look at it and you stifle a laugh.

“Is that proof enough?”

He waves the butterfly off, looking at you in awe. “You really are a wizard…”

You stifle a grin, trying not to seem too proud. “I am. And you are too.”

His eyes go wide. A slow flush creeps up his cheeks, his eyes gleaming with excitement.

“I knew it,” he breathes, “I always knew I was special. Everyone else called me crazy, but I knew.”

You pat his shoulder and smile down at him. “You are special. You’re a wizard, Tom.”

His answering grin is worth all the problems you know are coming.

Dumbledore, especially, will be furious once he finds out.

But you’ve done what you’ve done, and you’re prepared to face the consequences. As far as the wizarding world will be concerned, you really are Tom’s uncle.

And you’re going to keep it that way.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

professor steve or boss steve?

👀

I don't know what this is but I chose professor Steve

One is the Loneliest Number

“I’m sorry I’m late,” you bluster in through the door, “I got caught–”

You stop short. The room is empty. You check your watch, the small golden piece your mother got you before you left for college, and peer around once more. There is only one other body in the immense room. Your professor, Dr. Rogers.

“Oh, hi, I…” you sputter, “it’s not the wrong day, is it?”

The question strikes you as stupid the moment it hangs before you. No, he wouldn’t be here if it was the wrong day.

“Did I get the wrong time?”

He sits up, setting down the book on the desk before him. He looks unimpressed as he leaves on the hardcover of his copy of Wuthering Heights. Your own is a curling paper back with wrinkles along the spine. You bite your lip and teeter on your toes, turning your toes together.

He watches you, sliding the book loudly across the wood, “you are the only one. Seems like this wasn’t such a good idea.”

You frown and look above his head, at the face of the clock ticking on the wall. It’s almost twenty minutes past the hour. You feel worse for him now than you did running in late.

“I’m sorry, professor, I…” you look around awkwardly, “I was so excited but maybe someone else will show up. I don’t mind waiting.”

He seems less than heartened by your words. He sighs and looks down at the book, running his fingers across the embossed cover. You go to the middle row and lift your bag onto the desk, fishing around for your copy.

“Maybe we can get started without them,” you volunteer, searching for anything to kill the unease, “I really enjoyed the book, Prof–”

“Don’t bother. Go back and have fun with your friends,” he waves you off as he turns back up the aisle, “I won’t keep you. Obviously, you coeds have a lot more going on than some ancient tome.”

“Oh, uh,” you blink at his back, his broad shoulders stretching the tweed of his blazer. He talks as if he’s terribly old but he hardly shows it. There’s a few strands of silver in his hair but you can hardly tell as they blend into the golden highlights, “so, what do you think? Did Bronte mean to reprimand her protagonists or romanticise them? I thought the narrative was kinda condemning, don’t you think?”

He stops and pushes his head back. A long breath as he turns on his heel.

“Really? Most would say it’s overly praising, that it glorfiies Catherine and Heathcliff’s love,” he intones, “at least, most girls your age say so.”

“Well, I uh… found it almost annoying that Heathcliff refuses to change,” you explain as you sit down, “truly, but with Hareton, Catherine can grow…”

“Hmm,” he hums and walks along the next row, turning a chair around to sit, “tell me more.”

You rub your dry lips together before you find another thought. You don’t want to admit that you were scrolling on Reddit and a lot of your ideas were borrowed from the arguments there. Still, you came all the way here and you just couldn’t bring yourself to leave him. 

You go on about the mirroring of Heathcliffe and Catherine, how their similarities are almost detrimental, as if they are part of each other rather than lovers. He nods thoughtfully as you speak.

“I don’t know, I think I need to do a second read,” you shrug as you eyes meet his. The intent blue irises nearly make you wither.

“I think you got it,” he allows his mouth to curve just a little, “thank you for humouring me.”

“No, professor, I–”

“I’m not stupid, the letters beside my name would at least suggest that,” he leans back in the chair and frames his book with his thumbs and index fingers. 

You admire the cover, leather inlaid with the image of the literary amours, “yours is much prettier than mine.” You close the curling cover and try to hold it smooth, the blocked font offering little more than simplicity. “I got it from the second-hand pile at the student shop.”

“It has character,” he says as he reaches over, his thumb brushing yours as he slides it from beneath your grasp. He flips through the pages, the soft breeze of the flutter causing a short blond strand to droop down his forehead, “a special sort of beauty.”

He peeks up at you. You don’t know what to say. What he’s waiting for. You smile as his gaze follows your nervous fingers as they tap against your throat. You still the anxious gesture and look at the clock.

“Like you,” he breathes. 

Your eyes drop back to him and you shake your head, “pardon?”

“Hm,” he tilts his head, “I didn’t…” he cranes to look at the clock, “well, I won’t keep you any longer. I guess you should–”

“Have you been to Marge’s? The new cafe down by the arena?” You blurt out. Your habit of rambling when you're addled never fails to corner you, “I was going to go there after and have some tea. Maybe…” you touch your cheek, suddenly embarrassed. “Oh, shoot, I guess that’s too forward. I’m sorry, I’m not… I’ll go.”

You reach for the book but he keeps it in his grasp. Your eyes meet his as he watches you, “I like tea,” he offers, “if you don’t mind the company.”

[slashingdisneypasta]

SecretLover!Prof. Aaron Callahan x Fem!Reader || Oneshot

Plot: What the hell kinda luck leads you and Callahan to finally decide to date- and then immediately end up with him subbing one of your classes that day??

Part 1 Part 2

Warnings: Teacher/student relationship and sexual references.

"You want... to take me on a date??" Blinking, you look baffled at him. "... we can't go out." You exclaim, completely incredulous. "That's the secret part of secret affair."

A smirk slides across Callahan's face, looking cocky as usual. Like he knows everything, the handsome bastard. "I was actually thinking I'd cook for you. At home." The smirk broadens. "See,.. I know the rules."

"Well you should, you did help to make them."

"Mmm," He groans, annoyance laced in the tone. "Actually I think that you took control on that- but I digress. What do you say? I've cooked for you before, after all,.. its not like I'll poison you... "

"Uh, I stole leftovers out of your fridge. I don't think that constitutes as you cooking for me- but-- " Shaking your head, you taking a deep breath and think; drumming your fingers against the bench.

The two of you have been getting along better; that Halloween event was so much fun, and not just the bathroom rendezvous, you actually loved talking with him-- but do you really want to let this become... more? What would you even call him after you went on a date? Date is a hefty four letter word, filled with expectations and assumptions and a 'where is this going' conversation that you are completely unequipped for.

Callahan is an ass, though. A cold, manipulative, narcissistic ass. So... maybe... you shouldn't??...

Your eyes flicker up to his face then, though, and your moment of sobriety is over. There's just something in him that you like all of a sudden and the past week since Halloween, you've been all for him. Shrugging nonchalauntly, you give a grin. You cant help it. "Yeah. Cook me dinner- what do you plan on cookin me, then?"

Giving fully-pleased grin, rolling his shoulders. "Let's call it a surprise." He teases, leaning in and dropping a slow kiss to the corner of your mouth, his hand fitting to your waist. "I'll see you tonight- dress uhh... " He gives you a once-over and you gape. Excuse you???- "better."

Excuse y- glancing down at your pyjamas, just a t shirt and shorts, you give a sad pout. These pj's are cute! Hmph. "You know, I like you at the moment but you're still on thin ice." With a matter-o-fact, deadpanned look on your face now, you take a deliberate sip of your coffee/tea at him.

"Uhuh, whatever. Bye." One final waist-squeeze from him and an almost-sincere smile (on one side of his face at least) and he walks on out of the apartment for the day.

~

What the HELL?

"Alright class, as you can hopefully tell I am not an English teacher," Professor Callahan stands at the front of your class after making an entrance of himself coming in (He couldn't quote a law & order but apparently he knows Hamlet- the Claudius bits) and you're closest to him in the front row so you're the only one who hears the next part even though he doesn't look at you. "and to be honest I look down upon and each and every one of you poor hippie losers."

What the hell is he doing in this class?? This is YOUR class!! He's a law teacher- Before you can think it through, your arm shoots up into the air. He sees you and nods to your hand. "Where's Mr Bradford??"

"Sick." He responds, and does not elaborate- he quickly looks back to the class in general. "Now, I want you to do the modules I write on the board and if you have a question... I don't care. Email your ailing teacher. Go."

Narrowing your eyes, you watch him turn and write the appropriate modules onto the board; using your eyes and mind power to insist he turn around... but he doesn't, not once. The jerk.

Finally when Callahan turns back to the front, gives the room once sweep with his eyes and then sits down at the desk to do his own work without even looking at you for a second you sigh and open your laptop to start the modules... awkwardly... and immediately see an instant message pop up in the corner of the screen. From Aaron- the name you put his contacts under when you realised other people might catch a glance of your messages or your calls and you didn't want them getting suspicious about a last name (Or 'the professor', which was another option that had passed your mind).

Aaron: Stop staring.

Huffing, you roll your eyes and immediately start typing out an answer.

You: Oh so you noticed me?? Interesting.

You: Couldn't tell.

Aaron: What do you expect? Am I supposed to walk into class and kiss you- then introduce myself as the professor for the day and expect everyone to respect me?

You: No one respects you. They hate and fear you.

When you glance up to see his reaction to that, you see a smirk slither across his face as he types back to you.

Aaron: So?? That's infinitely preferable.

For goodness sakes. Stifling a grin by pressing your lips together, you shake your head and open your classwork. Whatever, maybe you can just ignore him and get your work done today. Pretend you don't know him. Try not to think about the fact you were bent over your professors bed with him behind you in his teaching suit, well-

Woof... you think, eyes rounding and shaking your head again; trying to shake the memory out of your head. Okay, mind outta the gutter, lets do some work. Come on.

~

For the rest of the 3 hour class you shift between actually doing work and sending Aaron random messages to try and get a visible reaction out of him (He does react, but he's subtle. Just soft smirks, a couple of headshakes... the biggest responce you got was an eyeroll). No one else notices because they're all terrified of Callahan, and are actually doing their work.

When 3 o'clock finally fits and its time to leave for the day, everyone else starts filing quickly out while you casually just pack up your things at your leisure and wonder what you're going to wear for your date tonight when you feel a tap on your shoulder. Turning around, you see Lewis.

Lewis, the guy you went on a date with a couple of weeks ago and Callahan - Aaron, - got weird about it. Before Halloween and everything... sorta changed. As Lewis gives you a cute grin, his tucked into his back pockets you look to the professors desk and catch Aaron the manipulative bastard pretending not to notice the cute guy approach you; busying himself putting his things back in his briefcase.

"Hey, Y/N. Sorry, I know we've both been really busy lately so we haven't had a chance to catch up, since... " Here Lewis gives a shifty-eyed glance between you two, reminding you of the almost-risqué moment the two of you had when he kisses you goodbye after the date. A wonky grin wibbles across your mouth, thinking about the worse, down-right-scandalous things you've done with the other man in the room- nearby- listening in... "But, uh, I was wondering! Heh- if you wanted to go on a second date??.. you know- with me? The new Five Nights at Freddy's movie is out and I got tickets." Oh- he remembers you love Five Nights at Freddy's!, damn him. Damn him and that cute lop-sided grin on his face. "Whadaya say?"

... Oh. "Oh."

You should say yes.

Lewis is cute, and he's sweet (He gave you his spare copy of Freddy Vs Jason on your date for goodness sakes! You cant get much better then that), he likes Five Nights at Freddy's!... and what you said to Callahan (To Aaron) two weeks ago still stands. You want to be married one day, you want something with someone that can last-

... But right now all you can think is that you have plenty of time to find that. You're young and you have years, and right now all you really want to do is be with Aaron.

A week ago the answer would have been yes but Halloween night changed everything.

You hear the sound of a briefcase clipping shut and take in a sudden, deep breath. "... actually Lewis, I already saw it- sorry!! You can take someone else, can't you??"

Lewis's smile falters, but not in a pitiful puppy-dog way- in a 'well damn, that's a shame' kind of way. You like that about him, after all you only went on one date together and he barely touched you. "Ehh, no worries. Maybe we'll hook up some other time."

"Maybe!" Giving a genuine smile, you nod; noticing Callahan at his desk waiting impatiently for the two of you, the last remaining students in the room, to move it and get out. His briefcase is stood up straight on the desk and his fingers are drumming against the leather. He can definitely hear what's being said, too, since he's barely 10 feet away.... and looking right at you both- "Uhh... well I'll see you next class, Lewis!"

"Yeah, see ya." With a last arm squeeze, and a kiss to the cheek, Lewis gives you casual smile and leaves the classroom.

... After a moment of embarrassed silence in which you think about where to go from here... you quickly glance at Aaron for a moment and pull your shoulder bag on right over your head. "Well what are you lookin' at?" You ask boldly, then go ahead and try to just leave. Like uh-yeah-no-see-ya-later-bye-

But- "Uh uh uh, not so fast." You were, of course, greatly mistaken to think he was just going to let you leave after seeing that. Sighing, you stop in your tracks and look nervously back at him. "... what was that?"

"I'm sure I dunno what you mean, Professor." You give him a pointed look. "Just chatting with a friend."

"A friend?... " He raises a brow. "Huh."

Welp. That 'huh' doesn't sound great. "... 'Huh'?"

"Mhm. 'Huh'." He agrees, folding one hand into one of his pants pockets and looking... thoughtful. Dangerously thoughtful. Oh lord- "... as your professor I feel I should warn you, Miss L/N,.. boys at that age are- " He pauses, considering his next words. " - fickle. And inexperienced. And... q u i c k." The last word comes out slow and you want to laugh.

You try not to laugh, wandering over to the desk and looking pointedly at him again. "Sir... I don't think its appropriate for you to be talking to me about this, is it? I mean- " Quickly you drop the good student act. "Not unless you're gonna gimmie good grades for listening to your jealous garbage, at least." You shrug, dropping your shoulder bag to the ground with a teasing grin.

Letting out a chuckle, he smirks and runs his hand that's not in his pocket slowly, wryly over leather of his briefcase. "... what else would you do for a pass, sweetheart?.. "

A snicker slips out of your nose, shaking your head. "You're not really my real teacher, Aaron, you have no power over my education."

"Well that's true... Also means its not against the rules- if I do this." After leaning across the table, Aaron presses his lips against yours in a hot, slow open-mouthed kiss that makes you dizzy. And you let him, in your classroom, where you learn about American literature 5 days a week. You even reach over and wrap his red tie around your knuckles, stroking his tongue with your own. When he pulls back, only a couple inches, he can obviously see the fog in your eyes from his kiss and you can definitely see it in his. "Or, this." He goes on, beginning to press kisses along your jaw and down your neck in a way that makes it hard for you to keep yourself together. "Or... "

Oh, fucks sake here we go, you're going to fuck him in the classroom. Pulling back with huff, you slowly let go of his tie; slipping the smooth fabric through your fingers. Your eyes flicker slowly from his lips up to his eyes and back. "... Professor I changed my mind, I'll do anything for that grade."

With a mocking smirk so close to your face, so pleased to have a girl in a classroom, even if its not his, Aaron holds one side of your face and rubs your jaw fondly with his thumb. "Is that so?.. What a good student you are. Hmm... go lock the door."

"Yes sir." You grin, heading off to do just what you're told.

~

15 minutes later you leave the classroom with slick on your thighs and a warm feeling in your pants, as well a whole new appreciation for Wattpad authors and their vision.

[leejungchans]

Hello! Congrats on 200 followers! Can I request some svt hoshi fluff where he tries to surprise fem!reader by cooking for her, but it kinda backfires and reader ends up showing him how to cook? Kind of an established relationship?

— backup plan.

word count: 0.8k

pairing: kwon soonyoung (svt) x female reader

warning(s): food mentions, implications of being in a pandemic

genre: fluff, humour, established relationship au, hoshi being the sweetheart that he is :(

summary: soonyoung thinks he’s ruined the surprise he planned for you, but there’s always a backup plan for everything.

a/n: tysm anon 🥺 this is such a cute idea and i hope you like it!! have a wonderful day and thank you again for the request 💕💕

There’s a loud clang from outside the bedroom when you’re finally done with your last lecture of the day. You wave goodbye to your classmates and professor before hastily leaving the online meeting so you can check on Soonyoung. Unless someone had broken into your shared apartment, he’s the only one who could’ve made that noise.

You find him standing in the kitchen, hands tightly gripping at the edge of the marble countertop as he frustratedly mutters to himself. He doesn’t seem to notice that you’re not in class anymore, rather observing him from the doorway of your bedroom.

“What are you doing?”

Your amused voice alerts him of your presence, and when he looks up at you in alarm you have to suppress a giggle at the flour smeared across his cheek. Normally you’d crack a joke so the two of you can share a laugh, but the disappointment on his face tells you now is not the time.

“I thought your class doesn’t end until six.”

You shrug while making your way over to him. “Prof is in a good mood today, I guess. What happened? Why the sad face?”

As you draw closer to the kitchen island, you finally notice the source of Soonyoung’s frustration—a (rather burnt) chocolate cake still in the baking pan, and you guess it must’ve just come out of the oven.

“Ooh, no wonder the place smells so good. But what’s the special occasion?” Your eyes widen comically. “I didn’t forget our anniversary, did I? What day is it? What month is it?”

Soonyoung cracks a tiny smile. “No, no, you didn’t. I just thought since you’re so stressed from finals these days, it’d be nice to surprise you with a cake... though I can’t say how happy you’d be with a burnt and dry cake,” he adds sadly.

“Aw, it’s okay,” you say softly as your hands reach for his, not caring that they’re coated in a thin layer of flour as you press a kiss to the back of his hand. “It’s really sweet of you to do all this for me, so thank you. I appreciate it, really.”

His smile widens even more at your comforting words. “But what do we do about the cake?”

You look around the kitchen, eyes landing on a huge mixing bowl full of what looks like chocolate frosting, and an idea pops into your head.

“That’s frosting, right?” At Soonyoung’s nod, you grin. “Perfect, then we can crumble up the cake, add the frosting to it, shape them and coat them in melted chocolate to make cake pops instead!”

“You can do that?”

“Yeah, there are tons of videos showing how, and theirs all came out great. No reason we can’t do it too, right?”

“Well, what are we waiting for then? Let’s go for it!” Soonyoung says, already reaching for the mixing bowl.

“Not so fast, tiger,” you laugh, heart warming at the sight of your boyfriend in his tiger-print apron. “The frosting will melt if you add it now because the cake’s still hot. We have to wait a bit.”

“The cake’s not the only hot thing in the room.”

You blink at him. “Huh?”

He gestures to the two of you with a shit-eating grin, and you can’t help but cackle.

“Cheesy, but fair.” You grab two towels and toss one over to him, hitting him squarely on the chest. “Now help me clean up.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

“Can we try them now?” Soonyoung asks from beside you, the two of you pressed together while leaning over the now spotless counter to admire your creations. Pinterest truly never disappoints.

To be fair, you don’t know if you can call them cake pops, as they’re more so cake balls since you didn’t have lollipop sticks. But they’re cute, and at the end of the day it’s still cake, so who are you to complain?

“So impatient, Kwon Soonyoung,” you tease, but your finger is already reaching out to lightly tap on one of the cake pops to test if the chocolate coating has completely hardened. “But the answer is yes, I think.”

Without wasting a second, he grabs one and holds it in front of your lips. “Ah,” he coos.

You oblige, letting him pop the whole thing into your mouth. You sigh in contentment while enjoying the decadent treat. Can’t go wrong with chocolate.

“It’s really, really good.” You reach for another one with a grin before holding it in front of him like he did earlier. “You try.”

Soonyoung’s cheeks puff up as he chews, and you can’t help but watch him adoringly because of how much he reminds you of a hamster. “It is good!” he cheers after swallowing, “and you can’t even tell that it was burnt! I can’t believe we managed to save my atrocity of a cake.”

“Don’t say that!” you protest with a frown. “It was just a little burnt, but nowhere near as bad as you think it is.”

“Still,” he says, pouting cutely, “It was supposed to be your surprise, and I kinda ruined it.”

You pinch his cheek gently in an effort to comfort him. “I wouldn’t say ruined, we have some pretty damn good cake pops right here, after all.”

Soonyoung moves to rest his chin on your shoulder. “Hm, I guess you’re right. But next time, we’re baking a cake together.”

“Deal.”

a/n: ngl i kinda like how this is short but sweet :’) hoshi bestest boy 🥺🥺 ugh i love domestic aus so much you have no idea 😭😭 when this semester ends i’m gonna start baking stuff!! one of the perks of uni is not having homework over breaks, which was definitely not the case in my secondary school💀💀

[kai-writes-fan-fiction]

In Hiding Part 4/?

Hey loves! Sorry it took so long for me to write part 4, I’ve had school and band. I like this chapter, so I hope you do too!

Word count: 1566

Warnings: Really un graphic violence, mentions of undiagnosed PTSD, OCD, and depression, and my inability to write good endings

The last 30 minutes on the Quinjet were pure hell. Tony kept trying to grill you, and you didn’t respond, which motivated him to ask even more questions.

Finally, he rolled his eyes and asked, “Where are your parents?”

Hundreds of locked-away memories flooded your mind. Your parents had sold you to HYDRA at age 5. You didn't know much about your parents or their identities.

After he asked about your parents, you broke eye contact and looked anywhere but into someone's eyes.

“I see.” Tony scowled but continued asking more questions, but you weren't in the mood, even more now than before.

You eventually drifted off into a daydream as Tony’s questions slurred together. You dreamt about what your life could've been if you had parents and weren't mutant. You could still have parents; you wouldn't have sustained all of that torture at HYDRA, and you would've gotten to go to school!

School, something many take for granted. You didn't have any higher education, and being 15 and more innovative and 99.99% of the world, it was a moot point. Still, being among everyday people, having friends, and discovering your passions, would be amazing.

Snaps in your face brought you back, courtesy of Tony.

“Kid. Kid! Hello?” He snapped in your face.

You had returned to Earth and- hey, look at that! Tony is within head butting distance. Maybe it'd get him to shut up, or would Loki attack again? He was staring at you from the back of the jet, unmoving, eyes trying to predict your following movements.

“KID!” Tony shouted.

You'd had enough of hearing him in your face, so you turned back to him, made eye contact, and-

“Don’t do that, girl.” Loki snarled from his seat.

Tony turned to him and cocked his head.

“She was going to headbutt you, obviously. Don't get within 5 feet of her.”

Tony thanked him quietly and sat in his seat, glaring at you. You made eye contact with him once more, and you smirked.

The rest of the ride was quiet, save for a few tiny pockets of conversation and Tony coming up with more dumb questions, which you elected to ignore.

——————————

You had finally reached the compound, and all you could think about was your impending doom.

Steve picked you up again, as your restraints render you immobile. You fell limp in his arms, head dangling. You were so tired and so worried.

Steve carried you into the compound and to a room, or rather, a cell. The space was empty except for a cot in the corner and a sink. The wall next to the door sported a one-way mirror.

“You’ll stay in here; Stark wants to ask you more questions; he’ll be in here soon.” He put you down on the floor, and you looked up to him. He uncuffed you and swiftly ran out in fear of you trying to bolt again.

Little did you know, he and many of the other team members were staring at you from the other side of the glass, observing you in attempts to understand how you worked and your erotic behavior.

The room was made of something that made you powerless, and the walls were a blinding white. There weren’t any windows, and a single notepad and pencil lay on the bed.

You sat in the center of the room for 5 minutes, staying stationary. Once more, scenarios of what the Avengers might do to you crowded your mind. Tears came again, and you sobbed quietly. Everything hurt, and you were once again reminded that you'd been awake for almost 24 hours. So you carefully laid yourself out on the ground, being mindful of your bruises, and cried there.

—————Avengers POV—————

“So- uh- what do we do now?” Steve pointed to you, still crying on the floor.

“Poor thing,” Wanda remarked, frowning.

“Poor thing? She may be a child, but she's evil!” Tony scoffed.

“She could be a beneficial asset to the team,” Nat suggested.

“I don’t trust her.” Tony crossed his arms and looked back to your shaking figure.

“Tony, I kinda volunteered to go talk to her.” Steve turns back to him. “She's got a notepad, and if she doesn’t open up, we’ll send someone else in.”

“Why the hell did you volunteer me? Kid hates me; it's obvious.”

“Just go see if you can get anything out of her, Tony,” Natasha ordered.

“Fine.” He rolled his eyes, stepping into your cell.

—————Your POV—————

Tony Stark stepped into your cell, the door shut with a loud ‘thud.’ His intentions were unclear, so you backed into a corner. He crouched in front of you and looked into your puffy, red eyes.

Now that the two of you weren't fighting, he noticed how truly young you were; you still had that childlike glimmer in your bright blue eyes. You had been turned into a villain, but it wasn’t your fault.

“Hey, kid.”

You didn’t respond, just blinked. He grabbed the notepad and pencil on the bed.

“Since we haven’t heard you speak, we put this here for you to write on. Do you know how to write?”

Of course, you knew how to write. You stared at Stark, annoyed that he thought you couldn’t write, and slowly nodded your head.

He handed you the notepad and pencil and asked your name, which he knew. He was trying to create a sense of normalcy for you.

“(Y/N)” You wrote.

“You have great handwriting and a beautiful name (Y/N).” He said, reaching for your hand.

You winced when Tony touched you and quickly brushed him off.

“Understood.” Tony moved back and asked you, “Did HYDRA give you your powers?”

“I don’t think so. I was young. I don’t know.” You wrote. You did know, however. You were born with powers, and that’s why your parents sold you. You were too much to handle, and many people were willing to pay hefty prices for you.

You weren’t fond of visiting HYDRA memories, let alone talking about them. Memories of being tortured plagued your dreams every night, and it seems that HYDRA had found a way to torture you even after you escaped.

Often loud noises would bring back memories, as would needles and human contact.

“I want my clothes back.” You wrote. You thought they might bring some semblance of home, a piece of you to hold, and you’d be able to smell your apartment and yourself.

Tony nodded. “I’ll see what I can do. Do you need anything else?”

You shook your head and wrote, “Please leave now. And don’t stare at me from the window. It's creepy.”

Tony chuckled. “Ok, Banner is going to come to check on you at some point.”

You nodded and waved your hand towards the door, signaling him to leave.

Tony slowly got up, and you stared silently as he left the cell. Before he shut the door, he looked back to you, stationary on the floor, staring up at him. Once he was gone, you stared into the mirror, not at yourself but any unsuspecting souls behind it.

Once you thought the sufficient amount of staring was reached, you got up and went to the bed at the far corner of your cell. It was perpendicular to the door, so you could see if anyone entered and be ready to defend yourself.

–—————————

It must've been an hour or so until Banner walked into your cell. You jumped up from the bed and pushed yourself into a corner. He frowned and set down what he was carrying, which was a tray of food and your clothing.

He stepped away from said items, and you scrambled to grab them, scared he’d take them back. You backed yourself into your corner once more, shielding yourself with your clothing.

“Hey, (Y/N). Remember me?”

You scowled. You remembered him, and you weren't very fond of the memories you shared with him.

You didn't move, eyes still trained on him. He kneeled about 5 feet away from you, not wanting to startle you.

His voice was low and soft when he asked, “Can I come closer?”

You stared, not knowing how to answer. Would Bruce hurt you again? Could you trust him? It didn’t look like he was holding anything more to hurt you. You allowed yourself to creep closer, slowly inching towards him.

“See, baby steps.” He looked towards the window. You assumed some people were still watching the two of you.

You let yourself come closer, until you were about a foot away from him.

“Can I touch your hand?” He reached out and touched you, but you winced and pulled your hand away. You still didn’t trust him, you would need a whole lot more prof before letting him, or anyone for that matter, touch you.

“Ok, I’m going to go now, get some sleep.” He stood and turned away from you, heading to the exit.

He stepped out, and turned off the lights in your room. It was almost pitch black, except for a dim light coming through the window. You climbed into the bed, and stared up at the ceiling. You were exhausted, but sleep refused to come.

It must have been 45 minutes when you finally drifted off to a restless sleep. You dreamt about what would meet you in the morning.

Tag list: @sweetpeaflower01 @kinny-away @mangobangi @cumulonimbus34 @oakiedokie @moonbaejpeg @coollemonsaresour @screechingshepherddeputygoth @trinity-1002107 @padmoonyfeorge @laurenced1l @vaaalexandra

[shutupptara]

This pic killed me so uhh I wrote a drabble? Is it too long to call it that? Idek man but here, shitty, rushed nonsense under the cut bc there needs to be more Tanev content 🤷🏻‍♀️ I haven’t posted fic since I was 12 and I am v self conscious so I’m running now sry this sucks

Resident GDI, hockey star at Providence College Brandon Tanev is a joy to be around. You met early in your time at Providence, both in the school of management, though on different tracks. Your schedules overlapped quiet a bit and it didn’t take long for you to start gravitating toward one another. Senior year though, Brandon desperately needs your help with financial accounting. It’s at 8 am, and the prof truly does not give a fuck that he’s a little preoccupied trying to win the natty title. Everyone thinks he’s this fuckboy asshole, but he’s really soft for you because you’re so nice to him and you always smell so good, and yeah, you lend him your notes when he’s traveling on the weekends. But more than that, he just really likes being around you, and he doesn’t care if he’s simping, you’re definitely worth it.

After a grueling first round win, he comes in to class and just flops down in the seat beside you, absolutely exhausted because he had a lift at 6 am, and they got back to school at midnight the night before. But he still flashes you that winning smile when he turns his head on the desk, eyes blinking slowly while he gazes up at you. “I’m not gonna make it through class.”

And you just laugh at him. “I’ll wake you up, I promise.” Then he just kinda stares at you, smiling softly until you clear your throat. “Great game last night.”

His entire face lights up. “Yeah? You watched?”

You nod nonchalantly and try to pretend like his excitement hasn’t set off a crazy amount of butterflies in your stomach. “Now that Quinnipiac is out, I can be a full Friars fan.”

He tries to say something witty back, but he gets cut off by the professor as he walks in and addresses the class. He tries to find a break to start talking again, but then you hear the prof chastising him. “Mr. Tanev, you can socialize on your own time. If you’re not here to learn, see yourself out.” And you snort out a laugh as Brandon huffs. But he falls silent and eventually lifts his head off the desk to try to pay attention to what’s going on.

You shift your focus to taking thorough notes, only distracted when Brandon flicks a folded piece of paper onto the center of your notebook. You unfold it quickly, seeing “hockey house, tonight at 9? Drinks on me” scrawled in his chicken scratch hand writing. When you glance up at him, his eyebrows are raised expectantly, and you just nod, smiling widely.

__

You drag your roommate out to the hockey house with you. Truly it doesn’t take much convincing: she loves hockey players and she’s been trying to get you to make a move on Brandon since you’d met him. In her quest to do so, she dresses you in something you’d never pick for yourself but she insists he’ll love it and you let any protests die on your tongue.

You’re grateful you decided to pregame when you arrive: the party is already in full swing, and the hockey house is notorious for being rowdy. When you get inside you’re greeted by a group of younger players that insist they’ll mix you the best drinks and you humor them, because they’re babies and they’re adorable. So you follow them through the crowded living room and into the kitchen, listening to them chatter mindlessly about their upcoming tourney game, but you can’t keep your eyes from sweeping across the room. It isn’t until there’s a plastic cup thrust into your hands that you spot him: he’s leaning against the doorway to the patio, his arms crossed over his chest and a black hat backwards on his head. His hair flips out at the sides, and he’s got a knowing smirk on his lips. He raises his eyebrows to you, amused as he watches you bring the cup to your lips.

The boy standing in front of you glances over his shoulder, turning back to you wide eyed. “Oh, you’re Tanev’s girl.” He looks a little bit terrified, and you’d probably find it funny if your head wasn’t swimming from his earlier comment: Tanev’s girl.

Sucking in a deep breath, you step around him, and march right across the kitchen, until you’re standing toe to toe with Brandon. “Tanev’s girl, huh?”

Brandon doesn’t falter. His sly smile only grows, his eyes crinkling. “Only if you say yes, darlin.”

[shintorikhazumi]

“CABBAGE”

A/N: First, I wanna apologize to the Diakko day mods that reviewed a completely different fic for me that was supposed to be my entry, but then... boom new diakko day entry. I’m sorry ;-;, I just couldn’t figure out a flow that would still have what I had in mind. Uwu, sorry for using up your precious time.

Soulmate, non-magic? AU. Cliche stuff, common trope. STILL. I’m using it. Fun fact, I slaved away for this for two/three days hoho~ peak procrastination, don’t encourage it. Also on ao3, but I have a habit of posting full chaps on tumblr. Teehee. This is... long... (could have been a crazy multi-chap, ey?) but I guess that’s what you get for trying to fit a full story with an AU setting that needs to be established. Sorry if it feels slow with regards to reaching DiAkko, but don’t worry, from when they come along til the end, you’ll have loads of them. Sorry for the pacing tho :((( I also apologize in advance if there are some OOC bits that y’all might not like. Not too confident in it, but hope you all like it. I DID NOT BETA READ THIS ANYMORE BECAUSE I’M TIRED OF THE LENGTH OF IT LMAO. Anywho...

Happy DiAkko day! Enjoy?

~Shintori Khazumi

It was a normal thing, really. She had grown up with a thin chain slung around her neck, attached to another tiny metal thingy resting against the skin of her collarbone. On cold days, she would keep it in her pocket because god knows how weirdly tingly and-or painful that felt on bare skin. Sure she could have chosen to just wear it so that others could see it- actually, wasn’t she going against society’s rules when she hid it? She was, wasn’t she. Heck, it surprised her now that she’s realized it. Why hasn’t she been arrested yet? This is a crime isn’t it? Her mom, her dad, would they get to say their farewells once she got incarcerated-

“I can see it on your face, that you’re thinking about something totally stupid again.”

“Shut up, Sucy.”

“Just saying.” Sucy shrugs, going back to working on their chemistry lab activity. “I mean, I kinda just want you to focus on what we’re doing. Unless you want me to slip in some stuff in your project there.” She grinned in that evil little way the brunette had come to know her for.

“If I know you, which I do, you’ve probably already done that.”

“Akko! I can’t believe you’d accuse me of something like hurting my friends.” Sucy really couldn’t sell the ‘feigning shock’ act as her monotone words did little to convey emotion, and that forced gasp was probably just everyone else’s normal manner of breathing. Which was scary, now that she thought about it. Did that mean Sucy’s normal breathing was even less obvious? Oh god, now that Akko thinks about it, she would sometimes joke in her head about how she often wondered whether or not Sucy was actually dead during sleepovers.

‘I mean, come on! She sleeps like a corpse in a coffin! And she always looks so pale-’

“I knew you were thinking about something stupid again.” Once more, her thoughts were brought to a halt by that lazed, snarky voice that could only belong to her best friend who shared her mutual desire to strangle one another.

“I was just wondering if you were undead or something.”

“Screw you.”

“Wish I’d find someone to do that...” Akko muttered under her breath, to which Sucy sighed. She had heard it, and immediately knew what the Japanese was about to get hung up on. Again. Like she always did.

A hand reaching over to pat her back in consolation, but Akko felt a little worse, feeling that small, hard material lightly tapping the area along with the rest of Sucy’s hand. Sucy chuckled, sympathetically. “I know you’re constantly in a state of heat, Akko-” Or not.

“I am not, you bitch!”

Sucy could stand to ignore that. “-But really. Are you really that obsessed with finding your soulmate? We’re all young and all that jazz that those old hags keep yapping about. You have a lot of time, you know?” She smiled a sincere smile this time, trying her best to comfort her friend. “And besides, even though it’s something written on official print that most people find their soulmates at sixteen, most isn’t all.”

Akko felt a little better. Sucy could be an asshole, but as a best friend, she really knew what to say to Akko sometimes.  

“-That’s basic English that even you can understand.”

She takes it back. She takes some of her heartfelt gratitude back. “I hate you.”

“Aww, I abhor you with all of my non-existent heart as well.” Sucy smirked, swatting Akko’s attacking hand away. “Muah~” She threw in a wink for good measure.

“Ughh, oh gosh... Professor Croix!” Akko bemoaned to their supervising teacher. “Can I please use the emergency shower? And eyewash. I think Miss Manbavaran got her unholy sappiness spilled all over me.”

Croix sighed, rubbing the spot between her eyes with her thumb and index finger. Not this again. “Can’t you two ever pipe down in my class?” She sighed. “PLEASE?!”

“Nope.” -Was the deadpanned response.

“I now see why you guys are friends.” Croix groaned, walking over to their table. “You little shits just won’t give me a break. And yet, you’re so behaved with Chariot.”

“Hey! Sensei, cursing your students is bad!” Akko scolded, before adding, “Besides, this and that are separate matters. Prof Chariot is just sweet and so nice, you can’t bear the weight of guilt of hurting her. Right?” Akko turned to Sucy who just nodded.

“Shut it, Kagari. That is not a valid rea- wait... maybe it is.”

“See?”

Her head was starting to hurt. Just why had she decided to be a teacher in place of any other job involving chemistry? Really, there were so many other things she could have done!

Just as she was about to return the verbal jabs, a gentler voice inserted itself into their conversation. “Umm... guys, professor, the other students are being distracted by your... um... exchange.”

Three pairs of eyes blinked, before two widened in apologetic shock, while the other seemed to gleam in pleasure. “Sorry, Lotte.”

“Sucy, please try to look even the slightest bit sorry.”

And disappointment replaced them right away.

“Tsk.”

“Sucy... we will be having a talk back in our room.” Akko heard that audible gulp, reaching for her friend’s hand under the table, squeezing support.

“Don’t die.” She whispered.

“You too, Akko.”

“Noooo! How? I don’t even live with you two!”

Lotte was about to respond that Akko always stayed over, anyway, but the frantic screams of their teacher took the words far away from her mind.

“Akko! Akko! Your solution is bubbling! Wait, that’s not supposed to do that-” Croix’s concern was justified as in a matter of a split second, everyone in their immediate circle was covered in some bright pink substance. “SHOWER, EMERGENCY SHOWER-”

“W-we won’t all fit, Professor!” Lotte had begun tearing up, wondering if she was about to die from whatever toxic chemical their beloved dunce must have mixed in. Maybe if she prayed to something somewhere out there, the spirits of nature would take hers and maybe she could live as some kind of forest sprite in some alternate magical world, and crap, she was becoming delusional.

“Hoho~ What a nice outcome~.”

“Manbavaran!”

“Relaaaax, I switched out all of Akko’s components for some of my stuff. It was a precaution.” She smiled, unbelievably innocent-looking. “...and maybe added a little surprise.”

“Su.CY!” Akko lunged forward before being stopped mid-air, caught by the collar.

“Akko. Sucy. I’ll see you in the office later.”

“...your office?” They seemed amazingly unfazed. They’d probably been so used to being there that they must see it as a lounge of sorts. But no, Croix wasn’t going to be defeated by teenage rascals that were the cause of her hair prematurely turning white. No.

“Nope.”

“Th-then, Finneran’s?” They weren’t completely scared of the aforementioned teacher. She just gave them such an earful, sometimes they’d joke to Lotte about needing hearing aids at some point.

“No.” Croix’s smile grew despicably wide and dark. “Holbrooke’s.”

Lotte sighed in sympathy. Well, she’d expected this development sooner or later. “I’ll wait for you by the usual bench.”

//-//-//-//-//

A week of suspension. One week off school, no school or class-related updates allowed from classmates, and only check-ins and work drops from teachers. That was... surprisingly light after all the trouble they’d accumulated over the past first month of the semester. Or maybe it was because it was just the start of the school year that the headmistress really wanted as little to go wrong as possible. Preferably nothing would go wrong. Or it could also be the fact that they were in their senior year, and the teachers really wanted all their students to graduate.

But you could never tell with a group as rowdy as the ‘witches’ of Luna Nova International Institute. They were rightly labeled as such with the cursed terrors they had inflicted, every incident they’ d caused all over the school premises and beyond.

If it wasn’t Akko and Sucy, it was Jasminka somehow being able to sneak in and out of the classroom and buy out the entire snack section of the cafeteria, and making it back to class without anyone noticing. With her size, it was some kind of scary magic trick. If it wasn’t that either, then it was Constanze constantly installing who-know’s-what in the schools’ computers. It it wasn’t her, then it was Amanda and Hannah pulling at hairs, or cutting at each other’s necks, then the next thing you know they’re either making out in public, or making out in public... with Barbara. There was also Lotte when she was in her wild states of fangirling after a new Night Fall release. People tended to keep a safe distance from her during those times. (She’d once shaken a girl unconscious out of her sheer excitement at the mention of, ‘Oh, I read the latest release too’.)

Never a dull day with them.

Scarily so.

Holbrooke had smiled at them kindly as always, but there was just a little something else behind it that felt like Akko and Sucy were about to die on the spot.

“Please. I beg of you. Your first two years, we tried to overlook all your mischief as it did not pose any threat to the masses, only towards you and your friend group... well... physical harm or threat, at least. I don’t know how many people are psychologically scarred because of you.” She had said that, but they didn’t know if it was a joke, a serious statement, or both.

After being given twenty blank pages to write their usual apologies on- they shared a laugh, thinking back on when Amanda got fifty-, the pair made their merry way to the bench just by the school gate where Lotte sat, chatting alongside and excited Barbara, a Hannah with a fond smile directed at her life-time partner, and Amanda who was carrying both their bags for them, waving goodbye to Constanze and Jasminka who looked like they were just leaving.

“Aww, didn’t get to catch my little friend.” Akko pouted, wanting to hug Conz as she always did. She was so cute. And soft. Like a plush. Always calming Akko down.

“She’s gonna shoot one of her tiny lazers at you again. Those actually burn.” Amanda reminded, laughing as she remembered what Lotte told her about why they were late. “And I heard you two got some quality time with the big woman upstairs?” Her grin widened. “How many?”

“Twenty.” They responded in synch, hands aching from the memory.

“Heh... not bad. Doesn’t beat my record though.” She cackled, slinging an arm over Hannah’s shoulder, Akko not missing the glint on her left ring finger. How nice.

“Don’t egg them on, idiot.” Hannah sighed, peeling the limb off her. “And you all got nothing on these two.” She pointed a thumb to the still excitedly conversing pair. “They wrote a fucking novel for their apology. Literally. But the teachers were so tired of reading that they weren’t made to write apology notes anymore.”

“Hey! Cleaning the bathrooms aren’t the best either!” Barbara, now done with her talk with Lotte, turned to pinch the ginger’s arm.

“I mean, we all have cleaned them at some point.”

“True, true.” The group nodded in consensus.

“...”

“This is not a very good fact.” Barbara pointed out, and they all laughed, the ones seated slowly getting up, everyone ready to go home.

As they exited the gate, they all waved their goodbyes, Akko and her two best friends heading one way, and Amanda and her girls the other. Just as the sun was setting at that hour in the afternoon, red eyes caught the reflected glimmer of light against the three bands on each girl’s ring finger. Those same eyes traveled to similar hoops donned by the pair walking quietly in front of her, hands brushing by one another.

Really. She was happy all her friends had found their destined ones. Some partners may look to be as mismatched as Sucy and Lotte, and some cases were as rare as the three-way between the snarky British girls and their American idiot, but... the system had worked some magic in perfectly matching people, it seemed. They all seemed happy with who they had.

Akko didn’t know if this was some kind of spiritual occurrence like fate or the likes, or if this was just one ginormous scientific experiment on billions of guinea pigs across the globe, but... Akko wanted in on it too.

Placing a hand over where her heart was, she felt for the metal against her chest, clutching it through her uniform blouse.

Just when would her “soulmate” come?

//-//-//-//-//

Their first stop, as per usual, was the small apartment complex that Lotte and Sucy lived in. When their parents had discovered that these children had found the one meant for them, they were more than willing to help the girls move in together, and get used to a life-long companionship. They trusted them as they were both capable and level-headed, and Akko was so happy that her friends were happy. She always was.

Lotte invited her in. As always. And Akko should’ve accepted like she always did as well, but somehow, today... she just didn’t feel like it. So she made a random excuse, something believable enough, like how her parents had asked her to make dinner because they’d be home late, and the Fin just had to let her go, even if she felt something was off, and that the brunette might just be lying.

There had been a time when Lotte and Sucy had just gotten together that Akko seemed to distance herself from her best friends. They soon found out it was out of her concern that she might be intruding on their relationship, or bothering them, taking away from the time the pair could spend alone together as a couple. Obviously, they had never seen Akko as a nuisance, and were saddened she would think of such things.

With a talk, reassurances, and clarifications in place, their bond as friends became ever stronger, and more trusting.

But Akko still wanted to be considerate. Out of love.

...and maybe a little envy that made her want to distance herself from the sight of people with fulfilled partnerships.

Maybe she was just a sore, lonely loser who couldn’t truly be happy for her friends.

Who knows.

After jogging the rest of the way home, a simple five-minute distance away from the apartments, she reached that familiar wooden gate, the name plate “Kagari” shiny and clean, like her mother liked it. Pushing the swinging portion open, she walked up the driveway, smiling at her share little garden with her Mama. Looks like the vegetables were growing up healthy. Maybe she could try some new dishes out and have her friends give her feedback. The usual agenda.

“I’m home!” She called out in the foyer, shoes slipping off and set neatly to the side. A habit strongly instilled in her since childhood. “Mama?” The scents of vegetables and meat, and was that... cookies! Her mom was baking cookies! “Mama!”

Padding down the hall and entering the open living room, she found her father splayed out, snoring on the couch with a newspaper covering his face. Giggling to herself, she continued her way into the kitchen, spotting the one she’d been looking for, ear buds in and swaying to some music only she could hear. Akko smiled. Her mom was so youthful, she was such a girl. With her bright pink apron and bunny slippers, and impeccable manners and home skills.

“Ma~ma!” She called, hugging her mother’s waist from behind.

The older woman yelped, spatula flying into the air, but with Akko smoothly catching it and licking off some of the sauce on it. She tried not to look into those disproving eyes, and simply released her mother and went to wash the utensil.

“Akko...”

“I said I was home! You didn’t hear me, mama. This is revenge.” She grinned cheekily, her mother sighing before a fond smile played on her lips.

“Fine, fine. But just this once, okay?”

“Hai~” Akko gave a mock salute, enjoying this moment with her mother as the her co-brunette rolled her eyes fondly. Akko walked up to her, kissed her cheek, and attempted to “appease” her mother by offering her exemplary culinary services- or so her dad had once claimed. “Let me help you out?”

Unable to keep up the annoyed act longer, her mother slipped into giggles, turning to gather her daughter into her arms and pepper kisses all over her hair. “Thank you, baby. Please chop me up some of the veggies in the bag by the sink.”

“Roger!”

And they shared another laugh at the voice coming from the other room, screaming a sleepy, “WHO’S ROGER?! ANOTHER BOY-”

The usual always felt so good.

//-//-//-//-//

Dinner had been fairly uneventful. Her cousin- the relation fairly distant- who currently lived with them wasn’t home still, just like always. She knew he was always busy at school, and with the little business her father had him manage, so that was a normal thing as well. She had ended up just confessing to her parents what she’d done in school this time, in hopes that her being honest instead of them finding out via a phone call from school first would ease the inevitable punishment awaiting her.

It... kind of helped. Kind of.

Her father had laughed so hard, clearly amused at her and Sucy’s antics. Her mother sighed deeply, not knowing if she should even still be disappointed anymore. Akko and school accidents and incidents weren’t uncommon at all, after all. It wasn’t a surprise. Really, the biggest school-related surprise they’d gotten was the fact that Akko wanted to take a science-related course instead of an arts one. They knew it had always been her dream to be a performer. So why was she taking that when Luna Nova offered the Arts as well. It was something they would forever wonder about.

Akko was usually so open and honest with them in just about everything, but this was one thing she would never clear up with them. And they could never understand why. There was definitely a deep reason behind it. But why did she have the need to keep it to herself? They worried, but they also believed in her, that she would tell them if she needed to. She was that kind of child.

They hoped.

Kissing her parents good night, She walked away from the kitchen banter of who should wash the dishes between the two adults, and trudged up the wooden stairs to her room. Akko had offered, but they said she should just rest up. She looked like she had a long day. Besides, she had a week to help out at home. Akko shivered at the thought of being worked like a mule. That was a joke of course, but her mama could be so Spartan sometimes.

Her door clicked close, and she immediately found herself face-first in the soft covers of the lower bunk of her bed, lights of the room still down. Originally, the Kagari’s had been expecting twins because of how large Akko’s mother’s stomach had been. Apparently, they were simply blessed with a very healthy baby. (She was a fair bit taller than her mother, and had a good height for a Japanese woman). As Akko grew up, however, she insisted to keep the bunk as it seemed like it could be useful to turn into her own little fort. Plus, sleepovers wouldn’t be much of a problem in terms of space.

Flipping onto her back, she stared at the glow-in-the-dark stars pasted onto the top of her ceiling. It was fairly high up, with this side of the house being designed a little differently, the roof of Akko’s room forming a dome. This was at her request as a child after attending one of Professor Chariot’s public lectures on stars as a child. Akko had since then been hooked to them, the fading glow of the stickers allowing her sights of the constellations she’d painstakingly formed, sticking each point one by one with the help of her dad and a ladder.

She had been saving up lately to buy one of those small, portable planetarium projectors. She didn’t want to outright ask her parents for one, and she had taken a few secret part-time jobs to make up for the amount she needed. Little by little, she was getting close to her goal. She’d have one someday. One day.

Her eyes felt heavy all of a sudden, an arm moving to rest over them as her breathing slowed, thoughts drifting to stars and constellations, and myths, and tales, and fate, and...

Her world shut down.

//-//-//-//-//

“Atsuko. Atsuko, get up. Akko. Wake up, bloody hell, you sleep like a log!”

“Mmrrnghmm... eh?” Blinking her eyes open, she spotted a young man, brown hair just like hers, dressed in a cardigan and slacks, looking ready to go out on some date, or the like, or maybe he had more business as usual. “Andrew.”

“Akko.” He responded dryly. “It’s eight in the morning. I know it’s the weekend, but really, sleeping in isn’t a good habit.”

Rolling over to shield her eyes from the intrusive sunlight and man, she waved him away sloppily, ready to get back to rest, body feeling heavy for some reason.

“Akko!”

“You really do take my mom’s place when she isn’t around, Andrew.” Akko complained, sitting up, if only to get Andrew to pipe down. “Alright, I get it.” She rubbed the sleep away from her eyes, stretching her body out and taking in a breath of fresh air. “But if you’re here, I’m figuring my parents are out?”

She received a nod, followed by an explanation. “They said they had a picnic date planned for the whole day.”

Akko pouted. “Aww, and they didn’t think to take me along? How mean~”

“They tried to wake you up, believe me.” Andrew scoffed. “You could sleep through world war two without problem, however.”

“Gee, thanks.”

“You’re welcome.”

“Get out, please.”

“Later.”

“I’m asking nicely.” Akko whined, slipping out of her bed, realizing she hadn’t changed out of her uniform last night.

“After I tell you about our plans for today.”

A well-shaped brow raised in suspicion at the words. “Our plans?” Akko voiced. “What do you mean. ‘our plans’? I don’t have any plans of spending time with you today, as far as my knowledge tells me.”

“Not that you have mu-” Andrew was about to throw in the usual insulting jab, playful banter, but refrained. He did actually need Akko to go with him.

“Hmm?” The lack of a biting response didn’t sit quite well with Akko. Something was up with her cousin, and she was sure that she was about to find out just what.

There was an awkward pause in the air before the older boy cleared his throat; maybe he should begin with getting on her good side. “L-lovely weather we’re having today.”

“Just tell me what you want from me and leave.”

“We’re going to the mall, please help me.”

“Why?”

“...”

“Why?” Akko pressed. If Andrew wasn’t going to give her a good enough explanation, she wasn’t going to move a single inch.

“...It’s Denise’s birthday soon.” He confessed, and Akko actually backed off.

“Oh.” She immediately understood what Andrew wanted without him having to expound on his earlier statement. Really, he could be such an adorable dork sometimes, especially when it came to Denise.

Denise was Andrew’s set partner. She was a kind person, gentle, lady-like, intelligent, mild-mannered, but strong-willed. She was great. Too good for Andrew, Akko would tease at times. But really, they made such a good match. She liked Denise; she was sweet to Akko, exchanged treats with her, as well as tutored her from time to time, being in the same school and all. She also kept Andrew busy and out of Akko’s hair, so she was perfect! So if not for Andrew’s sake, Akko should at least do something nice for her friend.

“Give me half an hour. I’ll be ready by then.”

Andrew breathed a sigh of relief, offering Akko a grateful smile. “Thank you. I’ll see myself out then.”

“Finally!”

With a childish sticking of the tongue out at each other, a habitual thing they had formed, Andrew had closed the door to Akko’s bedroom, not forgetting to lock it behind him for privacy’s sake. Akko was thankful.

Instead of getting up, however, and preparing for the day with Andrew out of the room, Akko lay back down on the soft mattress, eyes trained to the top of the room again. As she saw her little clusters of stars and constellations, red ribbons connecting points one to the other, always to be linked even if they were far apart, never to be broken, her regular intrusive thoughts had begun making their way to the forefront of her mind again.

Fated people... soulmates, huh. Weren’t those terms just glorified ways of saying everyone was in some kind of arranged marriage they could never get out of? Wouldn’t there be at least one person averse to all this? Maybe? But why... did all the people she’s known, who’ve met their match-why did they all seem content?

Feeling for that familiar metal piece under her clothing, she pulled it out by the chain, observing it as it glinted against the morning light. Her finger traced over the engraving on the outside, admiring the workmanship, but frowning at the words.

She thought back on it all. How all this destined person stuff all started out, as the history books told them. Before the records of History ever existed, they said that the leaders of the ancient world had gathered together, seeing the ‘sorrow of the world’, and came to a decision of what to to do to make the world better in that regard. They decided that ‘LOVE’ was the answer, as cheesy as it sounded. And so a system was put into place that would overcome barriers and seas, both literal and figurative, of difference, and bring to mankind the meaning of true joy- Akko always found it incredibly sappy and cringey when it was laid out like that.

Like any system, there were the finer details that made it all work one way or the other. It is said that people are born issued with a ring to be worn on their person on all times. It was a mystery as well, how one could never seem to outgrow the ring. Like it was made to grow alongside you. It was made out of metal, however, and it made things all the more perplexing. Who knows what magic goes on behind all of this? No one knows who makes the rings, or who created this system; nor does anyone know who assigns partners to each other. All they’ve known are the facts that the rings were created, containing words that served to be a hint to who your soulmate is supposedly. When you meet that person, you’d just know. The words, they’d just make sense. It didn’t matter if it never did all your life. One day, everything would just click, apparently. That was how the words were chosen, they said. Then these rings would be distributed to countries and the government would be responsible in ensuring that they got to their rightful owners.

Honestly, this whole thing sounded like some deep cult-ish shit, and Akko was quite shocked that she- along with possibly millions, or billions- had never questioned it before. After all, it was the usual; as always, the norm. It could be something of a mysterious world movement that no one knew of, but with it simply claiming to have the goal of ‘bringing happiness to all citizens’, people hardly seemed to mind where it took them.

Akko remembered the first time she ever found it weird. She was in the fourth grade, and that day, they had learned the importance of the words on the rings. ‘Hints to finding your one, true love, their teacher had claimed, trying to rouse excitement from the students at the prospect of soulmates.

And while every other little girl squealed in joy and giddiness upon reading the words written on their rings, Akko had a look of distaste on her face at the sight of her words, immediately hiding the item from possibly prying eyes of her classmates who had already began to compare words with others.

She hated it. She had then ran home to tell her mother about it.

“Mooommm! Mom!”

“Akko? What’s wrong? You’re all sweaty and you still have your outdoor boots on-”

“Why does my word suck so much?”

“Huh?” The woman was lost for words, confounded by a simple question.

“Why does it suck so much? My word!  I mean...” Holding her ring out for her Mama to see, Akko continued on her rant. “What the heck does cabbage even mean?! IS HE A FARMER?! DOES MY SOULMATE LIKE CABBAGE THAT MUCH?!”

“Ah... well...”

“Why couldn’t it be something cool like yours and dads. ‘Eyes like rubies’, and ‘Rider from the north’ just sounds so badass and romantic! And then there’s me with CABBAGE.  Sure, the ring is pretty and all, but... WHAT IS CABBAGE?!”

“I... don’t know, sweetheart.”

Akko had felt so frustrated with her word, that she wanted to cry. “My soulmate sucks!”

Thinking back on those times, she sure was such a child. It wasn’t her soulmate’s fault that the government or whatever authority or higher power decided to describe him or her that way. If anything, her partner is a victim of slander. Even Sucy had it better with the description. Akko chuckled mirthlessly. What are those people thinking. Ah, her head was starting to hurt from overthinking all this.

“’Bring happiness to all citizens’, my ass. With a hint as weird and cryptic as this, how am I supposed to be ‘happy’ like everyone else?” Akko sighed once more, unclasping the chain from behind her neck, and taking her ring off, hanging it over her eyes, watching it dangle in the air, the elegant cursive of ‘cabbage’ pissing her off a little more than it should.

Along with the ring came a handbook of sorts. Akko’s sat atop her bedside drawer. In it were more rules, guidelines, and information to be taken note of, but they could only be read at certain ages, sections sealed off by some kind of technology that only unlocked come one’s birthday. An example of a rule was related to how to wear the ring. It didn’t seem to be a heavily imposed rule as Akko had done away with it all her life. It was that rings should be worn on your right ring finger so long as you hadn’t found your assigned partner, moving it to your left once you have. Akko had been ashamed of her word and had always carried it around her neck, hidden underneath her clothes. Her mother had scolded her for it in the past, but she didn’t care. She didn’t want to get teased by the other children for having such a strange hint. She had believed that it would give her a hard time.

And it still did. With it being so vague and odd, there was no way this hint made much sense to her, at all. Would she ever find the person her whole being was linked to for a lifetime?

Besides the rules came soulmate-related explanation for the rings and words. An instance of this would be that the meaning behind the words would only be revealed to them once they entered fourth grade. She never understood the significance of that. Why couldn’t one just read through everything and understand it all at once? Well, not that it mattered. She would soon be turning eighteen, and opening a section that made her feel just the slightest bit bitter.

[What to do if you haven’t found your soulmate yet.]

Sucy may have told her that each person had their own time, and that she was still young, and had plenty of years to go searching. But when everyone else around you had already found theirs by the “normal” designated time, you’d start to feel quite isolated and lonely, right? She was already different from the rest with the weird-ass word she was stuck with, and now she wasn’t even close to being on the right track to finding the person it was pointing to.

It was frustrating.

Three knocks and a voice followed suit. “Akko? Are you ready? It’s been about twenty-five minutes, but I didn’t hear any noise coming from your room. Are you actually okay?”

Right. Andrew.

“I’m fine! Sorry, I got lost in thought. Be right out! Maybe in fifteen! My bad, really.”

“It’s fine, I’m the one requesting a favor, after all!” Andrew responded through the wood, and Akko felt his presence leave her immediate area.

Hopping off her bed and grabbing her towel, she made her way to the bathroom. Maybe a cold shower would help her stop thinking about all of this for a few. She really should stop questioning the whole system of practically the whole world. It wasn’t good for her sanity.

Turning on the shower and soaking herself, her assumption of her endangered mental health was confirmed.

“AH, I FORGOT TO STRIP!”

//-//-//-//-//

“You sure took your sweet time getting ready.” Andrew commented, locking the door behind them and tossing the keys into his pocket as they got to walking. Opening the gate for Akko with a bow, they shared a laugh, going on their merry way down the street.

As often as they got on one another’s nerves, they undeniably enjoyed each other’s company. It was nice. Akko liked it to an extent. The conversation was fun, the exchanges never dull, it was time spent well. What she didn’t like about hanging around with Andrew were all the stares and glares she got from people around. Much like now.

It would’ve been great if it ended with just observation, but there was always that one brave (or maybe stupid) soul who would come up to the pair to ask if they were an item. The brunette pair would then proceed to do their usual schtick of jumping a meter away from each other, and pretending to gag whilst glaring.

“NO WAY. WITH HER/HIM?!”

And despite the denial, instead of feeling joy at the availability of Andrew- Akko assumed it was him that people always wanted to confirm about anyway- there was no delight, only some form of fear. The creeped-out kind maybe?

Continuing their walk, Akko slapped Andrew’s shoulder, hard. The boy looked like he could bite her.

“Ugh... it’s already such a pain in school when we have joint functions and people mistake us for a couple. I was hoping it was obvious we were related.”

Andrew scoffed at the statement. “I’m sorry, but I’m actually quite pleased I don’t look to be related to your ugly face.”

He deserved the stronger smack, Akko would say.

“AKKO! That hurt!”

“You know what else hurts? The fact that people can’t seem to get it in their heads that not every guy and girl walking next to each other are partners. Damn, and I used to think it was a good thing that I could use you to get out of awkward confession situations.” Sometimes people did that, despite the entire ‘destined partner’ situation. “Weird times.”

“You actually get confessed to? Hahaha, why? Guys must need glasses.”

The tall lad flinched at the held up fist. “I’m kidding. You’re actually growing up to be quite pretty Akko.”

Eyes wide one second, then smiling sweetly the next, a chill ran up Andrew’s spine at Akko’s reaction... that suddenly morphed into disgust, a hand pinching his side. “Ew, I kinda liked you better when you weren’t so gross and cheesy.”

“Ah- h-hurts, that, Akko, that stings, ouch! Let go! I was trying to be nice!” Andrew retaliated with his own pinch to Akko’s slightly rounded cheeks. “Let go!”

“You lwet gfho!” They released their holds at the same time, rubbing the sore spots on their bodies. “Why were you suddenly being all weird?”

“...ate...etter...man...”

“What was that?” Akko couldn’t understand any of Andrew’s incoherent mumbling.

“...My soulmate told me I should really try to be a better gentleman... to you...”

“Haha, she’s right about that! You’re such a dick!”

“Oi!”

Before Andrew could physically get back at her, Akko made a dash to the mall entrance across the street right as the street light turned green for pedestrians. “Loser has to buy the other ice-cream!”

“That’s cheating!”

“Maybe!”

//-//-//-//-//

“See? You’re all out of energy now because of how rowdy you were earlier today.” Andrew scolded, hands on his hips, a paper bag with the chosen gift in it, slung around one wrist.

“Y’think so? This is usually... hah... nothing... to me.” Akko panted, plopping down on one metal chair by the ice-cream bar. “Weird.”

Andrew sighed, deciding to cater to Akko’s needs since she was nice enough to help him out today. “I’ll get you a water. What flavor of ice-cream would you like?”

“Matcha-Vanilla~” Akko drawled, now slumped against the table, liking the cool surface against her somehow, heated cheek. “Go forth, my peasant!”

“Noted, your eminence.”

“Mm, mm!” Akko nodded in approval, arms going under her head to cushion it. Her eyes were getting heavy. Did all that walking around really make her that tired? Her head was starting to hurt, and her body still felt heavy. Just what-

//-//-//-//-//

“Akko. Akko! Atsuko!”

‘...Andrew?’

“Tsk. Should I call an ambulance?”

‘Andrew...’

“Excuse me, are you in need of any assistance for your friend? My family owns a hospital nearby and we could take her there.”

Akko felt Andrew’s hand supporting her suddenly tense. “Geh- Cavendish...”

“My, Sir Hanbridge. Date?”

“Cousin.”

“Hmm...”

Oh? Someone... A lady? What a nice voice. Somehow it was comforting to Akko. It felt warm, it felt kind, it felt gentle. For a voice to feel something rather than sound like something, Akko must really be out of it.

Hands.

Careful, tender.

“A-An... wha-”

“Akko! Don’t talk. Just rest.”

“Akko, huh. Is that her name? Miss Akko?”

“mmrm?”

“You’ll be alright.”

That voice. Akko wanted to believe it. Who...

Soft. Soft. Akko was leaning against something soft.

“You’’ll be alright.” Was said again.

“Akko, you’ll be alright.” Ah, Andrew. But somehow, Akko would rather hear those words from the other person currently holding her in her arms. She felt bad. Not just in the sick kind of way. What was she supposed to do again? Oh right, she was helping Andrew. Where was she? Was she causing trouble? Ah, what if she was bothering this sweet-smelling, comfortable-feeling, gentle-sounding lady.

‘Hey... you...’ Hmm, her voice wasn’t quite working like it should. Maybe she should try to express herself again. Clearing her terribly scratchy and dry throat, she managed to croak out a single word.

“So...rry...”

“It’s alright.”

//-//-//-//-//

White ceiling, the absence of sticker-stars. Dim lighting, the low thrum of the air conditioner unit, and the occasional sound of something dripping. The scent of antiseptic.

Her right hand felt uncomfortable, like something was stuck in it. She lifted it up, seeing a slim tube running out of some secure, clear tape.

“You’re in the hospital, idiot.”

“Never a quiet moment with you, Andrew.”

A sigh. “I was worried.”

“...Mm. I’m sorry...”

“You didn’t tell me you were feeling unwell.”

“I wasn’t.”

“Don’t lie.”

“Couldn’t tell.”

“Akko!”

“Say, Andrew. Who was with you earlier?”

“Don’t change the subject, Akko- huh?” Reprimanding words died on the boy’s lips as the question sunk in. “Ahhh.” Recollections of earlier events came in. “The daughter of the owner of this place.” He threw in a few other details he thought Akko would want to know. “High-class lady. This place does too.” He decided to humor her queries, knowing she didn’t want to argue with Andrew anymore. He didn’t either, not when she was like this. A time and place for everything.

“Hmm...” Akko hummed, sitting upright and looking out the window. Andrew panicked, stepping forward, but Akko shooed her cousin away. “She sounded nice.” Akko commented. “Was she pretty?” Somehow her mind wanted to know. Her heart was clenching in some unknown need to know more about a voice she barely registered, a touch she fleetingly felt.

“You could say that. I guess to most, she’d be considered gorgeous?” Andrew mused. “Weird hair though.” Was added as an afterthought.

“Heh...”

“Curious?” He didn’t say it in a teasing town, only genuinely inquisitive at Akko’s not-so-subtle expression of interest in someone she barely even met.

“No? Not really.” She responded, everything becoming still. “Can I go home?”

“Once your tests come in.”

“How long have I been here?”

“Overnight.”

“Mama and dad?”

“Dropped by while you were asleep. Uncle was sobbing buckets, but Auntie dragged him out because they both had work. They paid off the bill and said they’ll see you when we all get home.”

Akko sighed, dropping back against her pillows. “I can’t believe I’ve caused so much trouble in a span of, what, three days?” Covering her face with one of the pillows, she screamed lightly into it, the muffled sound concerning Andrew. “I have to apologize a lot to them. Have to make it up to them... I even had them spend a lot of money on -ow! Andrew!”

Retracting the hand he used to chop her head, Andrew huffed. “Stop that. Your parents love you, you’re not a bother. Shut it. If you really want to make it up to them, get some rest right now as we wait, and get better soon. I suggest you make some dinner if you’re well enough.” He knew she often had insecurities, and tried her best not to bother people so much. He’d observed it from her relationship with her two best friends. She really was just a ball of energy that she couldn’t help but cause scenes, though. People hardly minded, anyway. If only she realized.

“Duly noted.”

Andrew nodded, walking over to the bed and sitting at the edge, whipping his head about to glare at the  owner of the leg that had just attempted to kick him off.

“You’re making the foam awkwardly sink. It’s uncomfortable. You’re inconveniencing the patient’s recovery.” Akko grinned, trying to get rid of the stuffy atmosphere that had settled by stirring up another banter session.

“Could you settle down for once?”

“I mean, I could.”

“Unbelievable.” He chuckled. “Fine, fine, I’ll give you your space. I’m going to the store. Want anything?” He offered, since the ice-cream he initially was supposed to treat her to as thanks was long since forgone on some cemented floor, probably already cleaned up by the workers of the shop.

“Orange juice.”

“Coffee? Understood.”

“Ass.”

“The good ass genes run in our family.”

“Oh my gosh, you did not just say that.” Akko guffawed, waving her hands, eyes sparkling with pride at the crude joke of her prim and proper, perfect-gentleman cousin.

“I did not just say that.” Andrew smirked. “Now rest before your fever comes back from all that tension you release. Good thing you’re off school for a while.”

“Don’t remind me.”

“I’ll be back in fifteen.”

“Hai~”

“Don’t disappear.”

“...”

“AKKO!”

“I won’t, I won’t!” She giggled, dropping the tease. “Now scram!”

“I swear to god...”

And with that, she was alone again.

Great. More time alone with her thoughts. And what better way to occupy that blank space that was her mind then to fill it with all her doubts, insecurities, and questionings.

One particular question stood out at that moment.

“Who... was the owner of that voice...” Along with that single question came a wave of interconnected ones that Akko could not understand. Why was there this sudden desire to just... know.

What did she look like? How tall was she? Was she fair-skinned? Tanned? Long hair? Short hair? Curled or not? How old was she? Were they the same age? Was she an older lady? Was she maybe in the same grade? From the haze that was her memories, it seemed Andrew knew her? An acquaintance? Why couldn’t he give Akko more details besides insulting that woman’s hair? Where was she from? She had an accent. British? Scottish? Did she live around these parts? Why...

Why was Akko so curious?

Knock. Knock. Knock.

“Andrew, you know you can just, like... come in, right? You know I can’t even get up to open the door for yoouuu...huuu...” With the door swinging open to reveal the person on the otherside, Akko could only hope that she did not appear to be the stupid-looking gay dance she most probably was. “-...huuu...who...?”

‘Beautiful.’

“I apologize for the intrusion, but I just wanted to check on you. Oh, you may not even know me, I’m sorry. I should probably introduce myself, isn’t that right? Oh blood hell, Andrew, telling me to check on someone I barely know because you want to go off somewhere...” Akko heard her mutter that last bit under her breath before watching this gorgeous lady seemingly recover her senses. “-Ah, apologies, um... sorry! Wow, I suppose I’m saying that too much, aren’t I? We didn’t exactly ‘meet’ earlier, but... I don’t know, I was probably meddling in issues not concerning me, but... I couldn’t help but want to help you out. It was an automatic reaction as someone who has wanted to be a healthcare professional all my life, and I was so used to it, and then it just so happened to be Andrew and... well, you and- and I-” Fair skin, lithe, fairly tall frame, a melodic voice, gorgeous blue eyes hidden by long lashes and ...strange hair, due to an immediate bow upon spotting the confused gaze of the patient; this person was...

“You’re rambling, miss.”

Said Miss bristled, expression flustered and eyes darting about in her embarrassment. “S-sorry.”

Akko panicked at the saddened apology. She just made a pretty girl sad! “N-no! I-” Their eyes met and then it was one of the most magical and equally painful moments of Akko’s life, she concluded. “Hi.”

“Hello.” The girl nodded back in acknowledgement.

“Akko.” She blurted out. Then just like that she witnessed a world wonder contained in such a small room, in just one girl. There was just something in the way her eyes lit up that pleased Akko very much. It was as though she was the catalyst for such a breath-taking phenomena. Blue stars, passionately burning, brightly so, like her favorite celestial bodies. “...Rigel...” She murmured.

“Huh?”

“Oh? Huh? Eh, um...” Arms flapping about, she tried to graps control of the conversation, not knowing where it was going anymore. “Uh, my... name! My name is Akko! Ahaha, sorry ‘bout that.” --She scratched the back of her head sheepishly with the hand not attached to the IV tube.

“Miss Akko... Rigel?” She tilted her head, and by gods that was the cutest thing Akko had ever seen in her life. But Wait-

“Oh! No, nono... no hahaha.” She laughed, waving her hands in front of her, realizing that what she said had been mistaken as her name.

“I... My name is Kagari Atsuko, but you can call me Akko.” She clumsily reintroduced herself.

“And Rigel...?”

‘Is a blue star that is put to shame when in comparison to your ethereal ocean eyes-’

“Oh, it’s just... just a star I like, hahaha...ha..ha.” She needed to save this dying interaction, fast. She didn’t want this goddess of a lady to walk away just yet. Who was she? Why was Akko panicking so badly? Why was her heart running miles per second? Where did these confusing feelings stirring from her chest come from? Could this just be... Was this girl... Was she... could she be who Akko thought she was? She didn’t even know her name yet, but the way she made her feel, it was like some universal, natural phenomena that could only make sense in the context of... that. Who was she? Who was she? Who-

“Diana.”

Diana, apparently.

“Diana.” She tested, the name unfamiliar, but incredibly welcome and sliding off her tongue so naturally, and with ease. Like she was meant to know such a name all her life. “Nice to meet you.”

She patted herself on the back for a good greeting, with good manners, even happier when she received a soft smile in return.

“The pleasure is all mine.”

“No, no, the pleasure is mine, I mean... pleasure, I’m... feels good to meet you, I mean, because you saved me and all, from what I can understand, so pleasure, good feels- no- what am i saying?! I’m sorry, Diana, er miss? Diana? Miss Diana?”

“Diana is fine.”

Diana was indeed SO fine.

“Th-thank you for being so beautiful.”

“What?”

“Tha-thanks for saving me, I mean, helping Andrew out in saving me, but that means you saved me too, so I just thought I should properly thank you and all that and express gratitude because that’s the right thing to do, amiright? And of course I’m right so thank you, Diana, thanks for everything, and the hospital and the room and all, oh but you don’t own it, but your family does, so does that mean you own it-”

“Akko.”

“Yes?!”

“You’re rambling, Akko.”

Akko was a burning hot mess of foolishness, but if it prompted such heavenly giggles from such an angel- no a goddess, alongside her name that sounded divine coming from soft pink lips- that she was absolutely not staring at- then she hardly minded at all.

And then there was silence.

“So...”

“So...”

Diana awkwardly shuffled on her spot, the tip of her shoe tapping against the floor impatiently, hand fiddling with a button on her shirt. It took so much willpower for Akko not to direct her eyes there.

“I guess I’ll get going.”

“A-already?”

“Eh?”

“Eh?”

“Ah... I mean... if you have... stuff to do, I guess... I... shouldn’t be stopping you or anything of the sort, right?”

Akko didn’t like that frown, however miniscule it was, on Diana’s face.

“I... I’m a little busy, I apologize.” She spoke softly. Akko’s heart clenched, and she cursed her insensitive ways. “But... I can come back tomorrow? If you’d like?” -And it leaped up in joy just as quick. More time! More Diana! More getting to know her!

“Y-Yes! Of course! I’ll wait here for you! Pinky swear! I- woah...” The world was suddenly spinning, and Akko had to lean back for a moment, vision swimming in color.

“Akko!”

Said girl was beginning to get addicted to the feeling of Diana’s presence by her side. That was not necessarily a good or bad thing. She couldn’t get attached to her, not when she knew nothing about her. She couldn’t... be acknowledging these feelings blossoming out of nowhere without confirmation of whether or not this person was meant to be hers, and she was meant to be with as well. But she was addicting, Diana. A strong drug. Just one whiff and she was high on her existence.

“Geez, you should be resting. I’m sorry for bothering you, and keeping you up this long.”

Akko heard none of those words. Akko was curious. So Akko just had to check. Hands weakly grasping Diana’s cooler ones, fingers roamed, feeling around until they touched even colder metal... on Diana’s... left... hand.

“Akko?” The concern was palpable in her voice, Akko’s senses blurring the world out as her hands dropped to her side.

Frustrating.

She somehow hoped what she’d been experiencing these past few minutes were the signs of her finding her soulmate, but it seemed as though she may have been wrong. Maybe it was simply infatuation, or a shameless lust overtaking her in her weakened state.

It shouldn’t be this frustrating.

It shouldn’t be this painful.

She shouldn’t have been so impatient and jumped to subconscious conclusions.

Diana had already found her soulmate. Just like everyone else.

Everyone but Akko.

//-//-//-//-//

When she came to, it was dark. She felt much better than she had yesterday, and earlier on today. Turning to her right, she saw Andrew seated on a chair, back facing her as he was conversing with someone.

“I wonder what got into that girl? Her new friend seemed worried.” That voice...

‘Mama.’

“You mean Diana?”

Akko flinched at the name.

“Is that her name? My, she was so cute. If you weren’t already matched to someone, Andrew, I think you’d look good together.” Akko felt a twinge in her chest, only slightly soothed by the sound of Andrew choking on something, his drink maybe. Tea? Coffee?

“I’d rather not be involved with her like that.” Andrew responded after composing himself.

“Eehh-”

Akko couldn’t listen any longer. The pain of everything was just starting to come back. She just wanted to get away. Away from this place that kept reminding her of her chance encounter. She just wanted to go home. She just wanted to hug her mama.

“Ma...ma...” Her voice warbled. “Mama...” She tried, louder. Somehow her voice was so weak, the thought of it not being able to reach the person she trusted the most in the world, hurt. “Ma... ma... mama! Mamaaa...” Slowly, she regained her voice, cracked and unsteady. And finally she was heard. “Mama!”

“Akko!” Before Akko could even blink again, the woman was at her side, a hand brushing bangs away to clear her warm forehead, a refreshing kiss planted there. “Akko, my baby.”

“M-mama... Mamaaa...” She moaned out, engulfing the woman in her tight hold, sinking into a familiar scent. “Mama...”

“Yes, Yes. I’m here. I’m here, Akko.” She cooed, hands combing through chocoloate-colored tresses.

“Mama.”

“Yes?”

“I wanna go home.”

“Eh? But you aren’t okay yet-”

“Please. Let me go home...”

She felt her mother pull back. She couldn’t face the eyes seeking hers. “Akko? What’s wrong, sweetheart? You’re not feeling well, and yet you want to go home before you get better. Is something the matter?” Akko couldn’t lie to those.

But she could try.

“I just think I’ll be able to rest better at home. My... my fever isn’t that bad.”

“But you were just crying out for me...”

“I was just... feeling lonely. Please, Mama. Let’s go home.” She couldn’t say it was because she didn’t want to meet a certain lady, weird blonde hair and enchanting blue stars never leaving her memory. “Please...” Because more than the pain inflicted by her sickness, she couldn’t stand the squeezing of her heart, its labored pounding more burdensome than the throbbing in her head. “Please, mama.”

“Akko...”

“Don’t be such a selfish brat.”Andrew scolded, eyes burning into the Akko’s skin. “Didn’t you just say you didn’t want to cause anyone trouble?”

Akko deflated in her mother’s embrace, and the elder boy sighed. He really hated seriously hurting Akko, especially emotionally. “But... We can leave first thing in the morning tomorrow, if you prove to be alright.” He turned the other way, hiding his expression from the girl. “So just get better.”

“Andrew...”

“Get better soon.”

//-//-//-//-//

It was against institutional rules to be running about in the building at any given time. Crowded or cleared, the halls were not made for such dangerous sport. Workers constantly made their way through these corridors; some pushing wide carts carrying planned food and beverage for every patient in the hospital; some nurses walked along with important, and sometimes painstakingly prepared medicine and treatments for patients that Diana threatened to compromise should she bump into them. In other areas she could risk bumping into one of the sanitary maintenance people, infectious waste at the risk of being spilled all over.

And Diana grew aware of all these things, surrounded by them from a tender age. Yet at this moment, she was in complete disregard for them, her footsteps rushed and padding softly against a marbled floor. Her eyes scanned every plaque above each door she passed, counting off the numbers, and reading the letters, her trip on autopilot.

One more corner, just the end of that corner. If she rounded that, then walked past three more rooms- She was feeling a regretful that she couldn’t come by earlier, the colors of the afternoon sky telling her just how close she was cutting it to the end of visiting hours. Curse all the school-transfer procedures she had to sit through. They didn’t need to take that long, did they? But she had made a promise of sorts. She had promised her new... friend, Akko that she’d come by and see her. She must not keep her waiting. She didn’t quite understand what it was that made her so happy about the prospect that the other girl actually wanted to see her- Diana assumed as such with how she was acting yesterday. Really... it was amazing.

Diana herself couldn’t deny that she saw something different in Akko, a substance far beyond what others could offer her that suddenly shifted the usual motions of her world upon meeting this girl. All her life, so many people came along trying to woo her, claiming that she was the one defined by their flimsy phrases that never moved her heart. ‘Beautiful lass’, ‘doctor’s daughter’, titles among other things. She had even found out a few faked rings that had been promptly reported to authorities for the grave sin committed. Thus, Diana could trust no words written on silly little rings; only the one written on her own, worn about her left ring finger.

She hadn’t found her soulmate, no. And maybe this was against the universal rules of whatever matchmaking system had engulfed society, but Diana did not want to be caught in a trap of a forever she could not escape unless she was absolutely sure that this was it. Maybe it would be unfair to her soulmate; maybe it would throw them off; maybe they wouldn’t realize right away; but if there was one thing Diana believed in that was rooted in this entire system, it was that if you met the one meant for you, you would know.

Her mother told her so. And Diana trusted her mother’s words above all other words.

One more door, one more plaque. Diana readied a hand to knock against closed-...open? The door was... open. Did Akko have visiting doctors? They sometimes left doors open for quick checks to save time during rounds. But no, that did not seem to be the case. She was surprised to see one of the cleaning personnel of the hospital folding up the sheets of the bed, passing it to his companion before they changed the covers.

Approaching an elderly male of the pair currently clearing the room out of any trash possibly left behind, Diana respectfully inquired, “Um sir? Where is the occupant of this room?”.

“Hmm? Ah! Young Miss, what are you doing here? Oh, were you perhaps the friend of the little girl staying here recently?”

“You... could say that.” Diana muttered, unsure.

“Oh, then she must have just forgotten to tell, you ey? Already left, y’see. The little miss, along with her mother and some fine lookin’ gentleman. Do you think that could be ‘er soulmate? Ah~ young, concerned love.”

Diana tasted an inexplicable bitterness in her mouth, heart squeezing. “Y-young man?”

“Mm-mm! Handsome fella, looked kinda familiar, but maybe I’m just getting it on in years.”

That... couldn’t be, right? While Diana wasn’t one to be guided purely by feeling, priding in her rationality, she just knew that that couldn’t be. After all... Akko was the only one she’d ever felt this strongly for in the lifetime she’s lived so far. She’d swear on her family’s motto of ‘affection’ that she’d only offer her fullest romances to the one the universe had destined for her, corny as that may sound.

She just knew it. She just knew it was Akko.

So who-

Andrew.

She suddenly chuckled. Of course. Who else could that young chap accompanying Akko be? He was the one who came with Diana to the hospital, he was the one who had told her go take that first visit. So of course, logically, without a doubt, the man that Akko should have been with was Andrew. Of course.

And there was nothing to worry about, soulmate-wise. Diana knew Andrew already had someone. She’d met up with them constantly at banquets. There was no obstacle, no other person for Akko. Right?

Akko... Akko who wasn’t here. In this room. Gloom encompassed her heart as she stared at the room dimming bit-by-bit as the staff turned off the lights. They told her that they should get leaving, and Diana nodded, informing them she’d just do one last look over the room for any possible missed items, then she’d lock the room herself, to which the workers reluctantly agreed, unable to go against the owner’s daughter. Well, she was known to be a good kid, so nothing should be wrong with that.

Diana, now left alone, remained stood by the doorway that served as the only light source to the room for a few more seconds. It wasn’t like constantly looking into it would magically make the one she was seeking appear, huh? With a deep exhale, she closed the door behind her, frown tugging at the edges of her mouth.

“You said you’d wait for me.”

//-//-//-//-//

Scritch. Scratch. A line, then two. A squiggle, a letter. A bubble from brew-

...huh?

“Aren’t you supposed to be helping me with my homework?” Akko frowns at her companion currently mixing questionable substances on her floor-table in her room. “That is why you’re here, right?”

“Course not. What fun would that be?”

“Should’ve known better than to invite you over.” Akko muttered under her breath, getting back to the unending pile of chemistry homework she was sure Croix assigned to them out of spite. “And how did you finish this all, anyway?”

“I’m smart like that.”

“You’re mean like that. Why can’t you help me out at least?”

“I believe that learning for yourself is the best teacher.” Sucy replied, emotionless as always.

“No you don’t.”

“True.”

“Hah...” Akko gave up. Forget getting help from Sucy. That wasn’t a possible feat, now that she thought about it clearly. The girl was just bored out of her mind so she easily agreed to come over. Akko was sure of it. Without Lotte in the house, and on their fifth and final schoolday away, Sucy- who had slowly gotten used to the concept of companionship- must have just wanted someone around, regardless of whether there was flowing conversation or not.

“Akko?” Andrew’s voice came from behind the door. Finally! A distraction! Wait, wasn’t Akko avoiding Andrew lately? Why was she avoiding him lately? “Akko?”

“Come in!”

“...huh? You’re actually letting me in?” The muffled voice asked, door now ajar. “Hey Akko, so... about what I’ve been telling you all week...” He began, looking nervous, and Akko had to wonder why. “So my friend, Diana, she-”

Ah. Right.

That’s why.

Quick on her feet, Akko gunned for the door, pushing it forcefully, and locking Andrew out, the boy’s yells the only things making it through the barrier.

“Akko! Akko! OH, COME ON! We’ve been at this the whole week!”

“And I told you this whole week, I don’t wanna hear it!!!” Akko hollered back.

“But WHY?!” Andrew’s exasperation oozed out of his voice. “Just give me a reason! Give her a reason! From what I’ve heard, you seemed to have hit it off pretty well?”

“Says who?” Akko asked.

“Diana!” Andrew didn’t like yelling, but Akko was being so hard-headed after he mentioned his blonde acquaintance. “Just what happened between you two?”

“Nothing! Nothing happened!!!”

“Then why does she keep bugging me about you, and why are you avoiding her like the plague?!”

...Why was Akko avoiding Diana? Was there any reason to? They’d met just the other day, had the most awkward conversation in her life to date, and then Akko felt something. Something she shouldn’t have, and let her hopes up, only to drop them lower than where they already were; and none of that was Diana’s fault. If anything, Diana could have proven to be another great friend she’d make along the way in life, y’know?

Akko didn’t know. She didn’t know what was going on; within herself, within her mind and her heart, in that one moment frozen in time between her and Diana, in a silent hospital room.

“I don’t know, Andrew. I don’t.”

Sucy’s potion stopped brewing.

//-//-//-//-//

“MY MADLADS! I MISSED YOU UGLY FACES!”

“Ugh, Amanda.”

“Oi!”

Akko grinned, messing up Amanda’s fiery mane in comfort from being rejected by Sucy. “Missed you too, Amanda.” A high-five rang out through the school lobby, the two energetic troublemakers missing that burning feeling on their palms.

“But man, you guys sure missed a lot. Who knew a week without y’all could turn the school upside-down.” Amanda whistled, their small group of eight finally assembling complete as Jasminka and Constanze walked up.

The small girl gave Akko this look that she completely understood, giving the girl a big thumbs up, and receiving a smile and nod. Jasna held out a lollipop which Akko gratefully accepted, and they all made their way to the corridors.

Suddenly registering what Amanda said a few moments ago, Akko’s interest was piqued. “What did you mean by turning the school upside-down?” She wondered just how much a school could change for her who was out for a week.

“Oh, well, maybe I was exaggerating a tiny bit.” Amanda chuckled, scratching her cheek. “Just that, some new girl came along and now everyone is all head over heels for her somehow.” Amanda fake-cried, sniffling up some. “She even stole my babes! Along with all my popularity!!!”

That earned her two smacks to the head from two certain British girls. “We already told you, she was our childhood friend! Of course we’re inclined to keep her company and show her around!” They defended, scoffing. “Besides, you didn’t mind ogling her at all the other day, huh? You should feel grateful we let you in our dorm the other day.”

“B-babies...”

“Oof. You brought that on yourself, hot stuff.” Sucy grinned, wickedly. “But now I’m curious. If she could even catch Amanda’s eyes then...”

“Total hottie.” Jasminka commented through a mouthful of chips. “Everyone can vouch for that.”

“Woah, even Jas...” Akko laughed lightly. “Alrighty, let’s meet this new kid in town then! Where is she and what’s her name?” Just as they were about to pass the headmistress’ office and head for their homeroom, a hand tugged at the brunette’s collar, along with Sucy’s.

“Wait a second, you two. You’re supposed to report to Professor Holbrooke first, right?” Lotte, ever the dutiful friend, reminded.

“Ah dang, right.” Akko scratched her cheek, throwing Sucy a beckoning glance. “Guess it’s better to just get it over with.” She shrugged.

“Whatever.”

“See you all in class!” Akko waved goodbye, smiling as Lotte left a peck on her pale friend’s cheek, enjoying her rarely flustered state. Her heart warmed when Lotte gave her one two, patting the blonde’s hair fondly. “Thanks, Lotte.”

“Anytime.”

With their friends out of sight, they faced the suddenly intimidating doors.

“Now or never.”

//-//-//-//-//

“I’m glad we got excuse slips for being tardy to class. I do not want more yelling. Though I guess Prof Chariot wouldn’t do that, huh.”

“What did you say? I think I’ve gone deaf.” Sucy complained, rubbing her pained ears. “Finneran yaps like a bitch.”

“OI! Don’t let her hear you say that!”

“Don’t worry, I’m not up for more ‘counseling and healthy reminders’.” Sucy mockingly mimicked the strict teacher. “Christ, that woman must be senile.”

“Shhh, we’re almost at the classroom.” Akko hushed her bestfriend, door coming into view. She could hear a Professor Chariots distinct voice posing a question to the class, and there was a quiet that Akko knew was due to no one knowing the answer, not very uncommon.

But then there was one. A voice very uncommon, but somehow familiar, attracting, pulling her in. With her curiosity getting the better of her, Akko slid the door open, planning to softly sneak into class, forgetting that the room’s backdoor had a tendency to-

SCRREEEEECCHHHH

...that.

“H-hi? S-sorry we’re late?” Akko tried, dozens of eyes now resting on them, most surprised. But one pair stood out the most. ‘She looks good in our uniform.’ Akko’s jaw hung slack, a fight or flight response hesitantly building up within her. Her legs tensed, ready to bolt or stay rooted depending on the next move the one she was staring at made. “...Rigel...”

“...Akko.”

Then a hand reached out, and she was gone. Like the wind.

//-//-//-//-//

It had been a difficult week. Amanda was definitely right when she said things had been turned upside-down. Akko felt like she was too. So Hannah and Barbara’s childhood, hottie, transfer student, best friend just so happened to be Diana. Diana, Akko met her in the hospital and became enraptured with, Diana.

This posed a problem, along with unbearable tension within their group. Akko would always want to run away, and Diana would always seek after her. After awhile, the blonde grew weary, and just distanced herself, her childhood bestfriends obviously sticking by her side. Amanda had girlfriends to attend to. And Constanze and Jas usually followed Amanda. So now, it was just Sucy, Lotte, and little ol’ Akko. Like old times.

“Akko, just why are you avoiding Miss Cavendish? How do you know her?” Lotte asked on their way home. “Please? Tell us? I can’t stand to not spend time with the other girls anymore just because you two are at unknown odds. You’re a kind person, Akko. And Miss Cavendish is as well, from how I’ve gotten to know her lately.”

“Lotte, you... you wouldn’t get it.” Akko sighed. She was tired of entertaining Diana-related questions. All the ‘why don’t you two get along’ interrogations wearing her down thin: with Andrew at home, and Hannah and Barbara indirectly hounding her in school at every chance they’d get, trying to fish out for an answer that Diana couldn’t give to them herself, apparently. Not that Akko blamed her. She must just be as confused as everyone else with regards to Akko’s averse reactions.

“M-maybe I could try?” Akko missed the shift in the Fin’s tone, irritation over the week threatening to make her lose self-control and lash out. But no, she couldn’t do that. Not too sweet Lotte. She still had her senses intact.

“No, I’m sure you wouldn’t.” She firmly stated through gritted teeth, not looking at Lotte as she replied, so unlike her.

“I-I-”

“Akko, Lotte just wants to understand you.” Sucy stepped in, feeling that change in the air that she didn’t quite fancy. “Why can’t you just tell us? I know I may not act like it a lot, but aren’t we your best friends?” Akko held back a hiss behind pearly whites. She didn’t want to be a bad person. She had to be considerate of people’s feelings. Like always. Everyone was just curious. They were all just confused... but then Sucy had to just say, “Don’t you trust us?”

And Akko couldn’t hear that.

“I trust you! I do!” She whipped her head about, pointing a finger to them one-by one. “But you guys, you wouldn’t get it because you have your soulmate by your side constantly, okay?!”

“Akko...” Lotte’s eyes widened.

“I... I’ve been waiting a lot, and I know you said I’m being impatient. It doesn’t have to be now.” Akko huffed. “But do you know how it feels to look at all of you, all happy with someone who can love you completely? Understand you completely? I don’t have that! Not yet! And sure, somewhere down the future road, I might.... and it’s stupid of me, but I’m a lot more jealous and selfish than I look, okay? Everyone has nice words, and has met the person those words described perfectly, at the designated time, normally, as the book says.”

“Akko, the book doesn’t completely control everything-”

“And here I am, always subconsciously looking around, because maybe my person is out there too, y’know? But how the heck do I know?” A hand reached for the chain on her neck, ripping it out of her shirt so hard, it broke, the ring flying onto the ground. “Stupid! Stupid chain! Stupid Ring! Stupid words! Akko marched the few steps to the item, bending and snatching it off the ground, hand going in too hard, too fast that she scraped her knuckles badly in the process, the area quickly leaking red. “Sh- damn it, stupid- gaahhh!”

“A-Akko.”

Lotte stepped back, retracting the hand that had been reaching out for the heated Japanese girl, stomping at the ground. This... wasn’t an Akko she knew. How many years of pent up frustration was going into this session?

“You guys,” Her eyes were scary, sharp and menacing. Sucy jumped in front of Lotte at the sight of Akko’s bloodied knuckles coming their way at eye-level. But then it stopped. “You haven’t seen it, right? My words.”

They couldn’t even react.

“Cabbage.” Akko spat. “Goddamn cabbage. How am I supposed to know what that fucking means. How are you guys supposed to understand when... I can’t either... these words... myself... why I’m so impatient... what I’m feeling... Why... I thought it could’ve been Diana, but...”

“...but what, Akko?” Lotte hated how scared she sounded, seeing Akko flinch, knowing her friend noticed her fear. She knew how afraid of hurting her friends Akko was. This was all just a shock. That’s all. “What’s... what’s with Diana, Akko? Diana and you?” She posed the earlier question for the last time. Was Akko hinting at what she thought it was?

“She wears it on her left.”

//-//-//-//-//

Orange juice didn’t taste as good when you drank it alone on the stairwell leading to the roof. It would have been better had she been able to stand under the cloudy mid-day sun, the refreshing breeze taking her mind off things. But then it just had to rain, hard, and that ruined all her plans of clearing her mind via the healing powers of nature. Maybe she shouldn’t have told Sucy and Lotte to stay away and give her space. Having no one to talk to really sucked. More so than the strange word on her stupid government-issued ring.

“Ahhh, should I just go and apologize to everyone?” She muttered, squeezing the juicebox she thought she’d emptied, but did not know had bits of liquid left. The purely concentrated citrus then spilled onto her exposed, skinned knuckles, making her hiss in pain. “Tsk, stupid. Grrr!”

“Ah-!”

“Ah?” The yelp caught her attention. She was alone in this place, right? “Hello?”

No response.

“Anyone there?” The only ones replying to her were the winds that howled behind the metal door that led to open roof. Those sounds were starting to sound like how she’d imagined ghosts would in the dead of night. “Helloooo~”

Still nothing.

“Maybe it was just my imagination?”

“STAY AWAY!”

Okay, that was NOT her imagination. That was a girl. Looking around for some kind of weapon, Akko readied herself to beat up whatever girl-harassing creep she’d find once she rounded the bend in the stairwell. Holding up a sturdy wooden broom, she tiptoed down, steps making no sound.

On three, she’d jump and smack the living shit out of whoever was there. One... two...

“Akko, please save me!”

And she slipped and fell in her surprise; her back was going to hurt like hell over the next few days. Alas! She must stay vigil! Save whoever this damsel in distress was- Diana... It was Diana. Diana Cavendish, as she’d learned the girl’s name, and a few other trivial details about her, over the course of their time not together. (Akko also denies any and all claims that state that she spent a lofty amount of time observing the taller girl. She didn’t know things like how she was Scottish, or how she loved horses and anything that looked like a unicorn, and that she was intelligent, and smelled like vanilla and mint.)

“I’ll save you?” She managed in her ruffled state. Before she could process anything more, the girl had clung to her, both now laying on the floor; one in an utter state of bewilderment, and the other... dealing with whatever it was she got going on before Akko had found her. “Umm... Diana?” She tried, forgetting her phobia of the girl over the past few days, and rubbing her back gently to gain her attention. She was shaking like the leaves outside in the storm. Just what had happened. “Diana? What’s wrong? What am I saving you from?”

There were no signs of any bad guys, as far as Akko could see. She was grateful for that. She wasn’t sure she could defend them in this position.

“Miss Cavendish? Heir to a billion-dollar hospital? What’s up?” She was trying to be nonchalant in an attempt to possibly calm the girl, and it worked somewhat, allowing her to see that beautiful face, tear-stained and all. “H-Hi.” How lame.

“Akko... the... there... it...”

“Hmm?” She lent an open ear, looking around, still not seeing any signs of danger. Then a well-manicured finger came up and pointed to one of the panels of the hallway’s windows. Akko squinted, not seeing anything. Had Diana seen some kind of floating ghost outside? Or was she seeing it inside, and Akko didn’t have the sixth sense for it? Did Diana have some kind of sixth sense? “What exactly...”

“B...”

“Buh..?”

“Bee.” She squeaked.

Akko gawked.

“Bee.”

“B-bee.”

“Bee?”

“Bee!”

“B-”

“Akko, please just get it away! I’m scared!”

“Y-yes, ma’am!” She scrambled to her feet, but not without gently seating Diana up, even if it was on the dirty corridor floor. Opening the window and grimacing as strong winds blew droplets of water into her face, Akko shooed the poor insect into nature’s claws of death. “Sorry, buddy. Princess doesn’t seem to like you.” Blowing it a kiss, she shut the window, wiping her face on the sleeve of her jacket.

Now... to face a larger problem... or not face it. Maybe Akko should get running again.

She should.

“Well, this was nice and all that, but I guess I should get- ouch!” Diana had caught her hand in alarm, accidentally pressing against her open, yet-to-heal wounds.

“M-my apologies!”

“It’s f-fine. It’s okay, please let... let go.” Akko didn’t like the way her heartrate spiked in Diana’s presence. It grew even more erratic, wildly jumping every which way in her chest as her hand was held more gently, blue eyes scrutinizing the reddened skin, the heiress didn’t seem to have any plans of releasing her. “Diana?”

“May I... May I treat you? That blue sparkle was redirected from her knuckles to her own dark reds. They were so hopeful and compelling that Akko, despite thinking that avoiding Diana would kill whatever held-back, buds of feelings she hoped to dash, just couldn’t help but consent, cursing the way her chest lightened, heart soaring.

She was absolutely doomed.

//-//-//-//-//

It was a quiet affair.

Torturous. No one said a word. To be fair, they’ve only had two somewhat proper conversations so far, so not knowing how to break the ice shouldn’t be that odd.

But it was, and Akko couldn’t take it. Diana had just finished cleaning Akko’s wounds under the sink in the infirmary, and was now dabbing them gently with antiseptic. She was so careful, touches feather-like soft. Akko barely felt anything, much less pain. So maybe she could start with talking about that. Maybe.

“You... You’re hands are real nice.”

“H-huh?”And down fell the cottonball she’d been holding.

“I-I mean... you’re really good at this. Tender and all that. You’d... make a good doctor.” Akko commented off the top of her head, running out of things to say, as she always did when faced with one Diana Cavendish. “A pretty doctor. Patients would... probably feel healed just from your... face. Or something.” Smooth, Akko. Smooth. Could Diana, like... at least help her out a little by responding? “Please say something.” Akko begged in a whisper.

“O-oh, I... thank you, Akko. Thank you for the compliment. I...” Momentarily lifting her eyes and meeting Akko’s gaze, the blonde averted hers, a thin touch of red spreading up to her ears, not unnoticed by the injured Japanese. “I appreciate your words.”

Akko hummed, not trusting her mouth to communicate properly anymore.

“I think you’re... face is a healing balm as well.”

Akko felt herself blush as well, head tilting up so she could face the ceiling. It was one of the most brainless compliments she’d ever heard in her life, and she knew she just said something along those lines as well. And yet it made her heart flutter like nothing else had before.

“Don’t mention it and... thanks.”

//-//-//-//-//

You never know when an event becomes a catalyst for reality to undergo great changes. Their little bandaging session had returned the next day. Akko was quite clumsy with these types of things. Each time she’d gotten hurt in an accident, she’d always ask Lotte to do it... but today... all their friends, and even the classmates they’d unintentionally dragged into their awkward little world, were staring in awe as Kagari Atsuko stood in front of Diana Cavendish’s desk, inviting her out to the infirmary.

“I-I’m just having her help me with my bandages! Don’t get the wrong idea!” Akko yelled as she guided Diana out, unknowingly holding her hand all the while. No one commented on it. Not even Barbara and Lotte who were exchanging curious little smiles. Something was changing. And it was a good change.

Reaching the infirmary, Akko headed straight for the sink, rinsing her knuckles under clean water while Diana gathered what she needed. Once done, they met by some chairs placed about the room and took a seat, the blonde girl looking over Akko’s hand.

“Come tomorrow, you might not need to bandage it anymore. Just apply some ointment. I think the nurse can recommend something.” Diana stated, looking up to smile at Akko who flushed at the attention.

“O-okay. I got it.”

“Great.” She then got to work, applying what needed to applied, and wrapping the clean white bandage after. Diana did this in her usual silence, focused. Sort of. There was one thing that had been nagging her for quite some time now, ever since she got to take a better look at Akko, now that they attended the same school. It was a  unnerving, however. It hadn’t been long at all since they... ‘got along’, and Diana didn’t want to present something that might cause them to drift apart again. But it was eating at her, the need to know about it. It would determine how she’d interact with Akko from now on. It would show her what kind of relationship she was allowed to pursue. She needed a confirmation. She braced herself. Trying shouldn’t hurt. She could change the subject after testing the waters.

“Akko.”

“Hmm?” Was the casual-sounding hum.

‘She’s calm. Calmer around me.’ That little detail made Diana happy. So happy. This was progress. “May I ask a question?”

There was a pause, and Diana considered backing out. It appeared as though Akko was thinking about it deeply. Before Diana could take it back, Akko responded, “Sure. Ask away.”, and the heiress breathed a relieved sigh. “What did you wanna know?”

“Well, um... I just happened to notice that... you don’t...” Diana was really hoping this wasn’t a sensitive subject. She’d finally managed to close the gap between her and Akko. Sure it was by unconventional, and very strange means- unintentional, above all. She had just been worried about the girl upon seeing that her friend group was all gathered in the classroom except her. So Diana had gone searching, and was planning to offer to stay away from her friends for Akko’s sake. She was glad that things turned out the way it did, though.

“Diana?”

“Um... Akko.” She finished her job, smiling at the neat covering on her.. friend’s... hand. (They were friends now, right? At the very least...)

“Yes?” Akko seemed to notice the hesitation, and her instincts guided her to take hold of Diana’s trembling hands, encouraging her to continue.

Well this was new, Diana thought. Now or never, she supposes. A deep breath, and the floodgates opened.

“I just wondered... why... don’t you have a ring? Did you somehow lose it? Is that possible? But how? Wouldn’t you get in trouble with... everyone, I guess? Have you found your soulmate or not? If yes then I should probably just say goodbye here and, oh but not in the way you think, you might not get what I mean, but I still want to be friends-”

“Diana.”

“Yes?”

Akko’s cheeks puffed up, trying to hold it in, but ultimately failing as she burst into giggles, instinctively tucking a stray strand of hair behind Diana’s ear as she leaned forward to bump their foreheads together.

Ah, screw fate and it’s ways. Screw Diana’s soulmate that existed somewhere out there. In this one moment, she just felt so at peace, and in place, she’d deal with all the raging storms in her mind later. For now, it was just the two of them, hanging out in an infirmary, the smell of antiseptic on them, stupid words be damned.

“You’re rambling.”

//-//-//-//-//

It had been a few weeks- maybe just shy of two months- of friendship (?) with Diana, and Akko had never felt more alive in all her years. They had even spent her birthday together! Well, everyone else was there to, but... Anyway. The afternoon the question had been dropped, she had ended up explaining to the Scot her story with the ring, leaving out the detail of what it had written on it. That was a little too embarrassing for her to share yet. Baby steps.

She’d never dare ask about Diana’s ring, and she appreciated that the girl never brought up any soulmate talk that involved herself. Akko felt that it helped her cope with this one-sided love a little longer. She would no longer deny this attraction. She was so undeniably into Diana, it was crazy. She didn’t understand how teenage hormones and falling in love worked, but somehow she just knew. She felt a little apologetic to her soulmate, no longer feeling the need to search for him and her, the section of, [What to do if you haven’t found your soulmate yet.] remaining untouched. But well... things happen sometimes.

And sometimes, you become so much of a fool that you invite the girl you are in love with, who already has a soulmate, to your house, to your room, just so she can be the first to see that portable planetarium projector you were finally able to get your hands on for an affordable deal. You wouldn’t even cry at losing months worth of saved allowance and work wages. It was all worth it, to see her entire being practically glowing in awestruck wonder as you lay on your backs on the cushioned floor, having the chance to flaunt years of star study to your crush. The impressed gazed directed at you felt so good. You could get used to this. Especially when the visage of wonder glimmering in the dear girl’s eyes was outright precious.

A Diana in awe was cute.

So much so that Akko was in awe.

“Hey Diana...”

“Hmm?”

“Do you believe in magic?”

What a strange thing to ask in that moment. That’s what Diana thought. Akko thought the same. Just what had gotten over her. Yet she still wondered, thoughts flying far off into space, just as they always did when she gazed upon the stars in the night sky- or her ceiling’s artificial one.

‘What are you saying, Akko?” Diana chuckled, right hand reaching out to grasp Akko’s, fingers lacing together. She felt her heart flip as it was squeezed tight, unaware of the inner turmoil Akko was enduring at the lack of presence of a ring on that hand. Their eyes remained trained to the glowing heavenly bodies above, stories of the past, of fate, and the like, written all over.

“Do you believe in other worlds, Diana?”

“Well, many studies propose that they indeed exist.” Diana responded.

“What about alternate universes? A completely different you out there, living a different life.”

Diana turned her head to face Akko, the brunette still facing upwards, eyes glistening with unshed tears, barely noticeable in the dim lighting; but Diana always noticed. Because it was Akko.

“Don’t you think that somewhere out there... there could be another version of us; maybe a clumsy me, and a fantastic you, saving the world with strange words not understood by the rest of the world?”

“Maybe...” Diana breathed out in a whisper, oxygen effectively stolen by the tear that slipped down shapely cheeks. The moment felt so fragile, she was afraid if she made a move, it would shatter into a million pieces, never to see the light of day.

And god forbid it happen. Diana wanted to boast this tender feeling out under the brightness of the sun, for the world to witness.

“Why do you ask?”

She listened in agony at the choked intake of air, followed by the frailest of whispers. “Because maybe... the impossible for the Kagari Atsuko here... is possible for the Akko there.”

The heiress pondered those phrases a moment. “...Impossible, like?” Diana replied in equally hushed tones, something hopeful in her pitch.

‘Like you being meant for me, and I for you.’

But Akko couldn’t just say that.

“As impossible as using magic here, maybe?” Akko laughed in a normal, in-house voice, volume not too loud, but no longer a whisper. She should just bury her illegal thoughts deep down.

“I guess so.” She deflated. What had she desired to hear anyway? “Magic does seem like an unattainable power, some unimaginable, impossible concept.” Maybe she should get ready to leave soon. There was something heavy weighing in the atmosphere and in her heart, and she did not wish for a memory as sweet as this to turn sour due to her mood.

“You think so?” Akko’s steadying voice kept her rooted in place. “What if it isn’t so impossible after all?”

“How so?”

“Well, don’t they say that when people put their minds to it, when they truly desire and wish for it with all their hearts... like how the song goes, y’know? ‘When you wish upon a star your dreams come true’, or something.”

“Like the law of attraction and manifestation?” Diana supplied. “If you think positive things, positive things will come to you. Your reality becomes better. Like that?”

“Hmmm...” Akko tapped against the back of Diana’s hand, still entwined with hers, with her index thoughtfully. “Yes, but no. Kinda, but not really...? I don’t know how to describe what I’m thinking at the moment based on existing principles. Not too good at remembering. Heck, is there a quote that already exists?”

“Why not make your own, then?” Diana proposed.

“Heh... good idea. Let me think.”

“Take your time.” Diana enjoyed the little sounds Akko made as she thought.

“Oh! I got it!”

“Hoh? And what would those words of wisdom be, Miss Kagari?”

“Ready the papers, Miss Cavendish. We’re about to make the headlines with this!” They both giggled at their antics. “Drum roll, please! Dugudugudugudugudugu....dan!”

Diana nuzzled into Akko’s shoulder, enjoying all these little sound effects, the brunette’s voice calming her gradually, lulling her to sleep.

“Just what are these magnificent words, dear Akko?” Diana was far too drowsy to notice the splash of color painted across her companions face, the shyness melting into tenderness as she felt her warmth shift closer.

“A believing heart is your magic.”

And sleep was nearly robbed of her, eyes widening in the dark, unseen by Akko as the thumb on Diana’s free hand now brushed over the engravings on her ring. It was for sure now.

“You really are... the one.”

//-//-//-//-//

Something was off about Diana today. Was it her hair? No, impeccably styled as always, that couldn’t be it. Was it her makeup for today? No, it wasn’t that either. It was still that natural looking glow that brought out her innate beauty in all the best ways possible.  Akko continued to check off boxes on her mental list, trying to figure out just what it was that was bothering her about Diana’s appearance today. Was it her clothes? But that was the uniform they wore daily! Did she... get any new jewelry? Hmm, she didn’t seem the type to wear any at school.

Then...

Was it the ring that painfully reminded Akko that the person she might be in love with was already meant for someone else? No, that couldn’t be it either. Last Akko checked, the ring was snugly fitted, definitely on... huh? The ring was... gone? No? Akko scanned Diana’s smooth looking left hand. No it wasn’t there. Not on the left, and her eyes couldn’t help but guide her hopeful soul to... ah. It really wasn’t on the left, but on the right.

Huh? That wasn’t right.

This confused Akko. Enough to make her approach Diana’s seat during lunch, tapping her attention away from her conversation with Lotte and Barbara.

“H-hey Diana, I have a question... “

“Yes?” Said girl gave Akko her full attention. There was something different about the way she smiled at Akko today as well, it seemed. Odd. Nice. But odd.

“So like... uh... W-Why is your... your ri-” Akko could feel droplets of sweat forming on her brow, threatening to trickled down the side of her face if she so much as twitched.

“Ri?”

“Why’s your ri- r....r-r- Right ear larger than your left?!”

Dainty hands shot up to cover her ears, blushing shocked and mortified. “WHAT?!”

Whoops, Akko messed up. “HAHA AHA.. KIDDING! Nah, I was messing with you!” The brunette forcibly laughed, patting Diana’s back in uneasy comfort.

“Akko, that wasn’t very nice.” Lotte scolded, and the said girl nodded, sighing.

“I know. Sorry guys.” She apologized properly, looking to Diana in particular. She received a gracious smile and a pat on the cheek, the skin underneath the ringed-hand warming speedily.

“It’s alright.”

That kindness allowed her to gather bits of courage to finally state her inquiry. Diana would answer her just fine, right? Akko had to when asked about the whereabouts of her ring. It was fair trade?

“I was just wondering, because I recalled you wearing your ring on your left hand until recently. But now it’s on your right. I guess you could say I was just curious?”

“Eh?”

“Is that so, Diana?” Hannah questioned, eyes wide. “But why would you move it in reverse? Now that you’ve actually found- mrrrpmmphhh.”

Akko shot a puzzled glance at Hannah and Barbara, the latter clasping a hand over the ginger’s mouth.

“N-nothing. You didn’t hear anything.” She covered. “You heard nothing, are we clear?” She threatened, and Akko actually shivered.

“Holy crap, your women can get so scary, Amanda.” She mentioned to the redhead seated in front of the other girls.

She heard her release a heavy sigh before getting up from her seat and turning to face the group. “It’s because you two are such a pain, that’s why. Just get it over with, Cavendish! What’s holding you back? It’s as simple as this, see? When you have a dense mofo like Akko, you just gotta give her a little push. A literal one.” And that was the only warning they got before Diana felt soft, slightly chapped lips barely missing her own, brushing against the corner of her mouth.

Akko removed herself so fast, they all worried she’d get whiplash. “S-s-s-s-s-sorry! Sorry Diana, I didn’t- it was... AMANDA!”

“I was helping.”

“You little...”

“Rather than giving me your attention, shouldn’t you talk it over with miss salad head over there?”

Akko blinked, the cogs in her mind slowly spinning, then clicked. “Did you just... insult... ah, screw you!” Akko yelled, blush burning so hot, it was hard to keep her eyes open.

Heeding Amanda’s advice nonetheless, she turned to an equally red Diana, unable to meet her eyes. Akko didn’t think her face could get any hotter than it felt right now, but at the sight of Diana’s tongue quickly swiping across her lips, Akko’s face might as well be venus.

She should at least try to say something, right? Something comforting... or witty... or clever.

“Sorry...” That would work.

“It’s alright.”

//-//-//-//-//

She stared at her invitation. Wow. Did Andrew really take her to shop for Denise’s birthday gift months before it happened? The neat script spelling out, ‘You are cordially invited’ underneath the older woman’s name with the date of the ball kind of set her nerves on fire.

She was not one for formal events. But then Denise had been nice enough to hand it in person, looking like she’d be willing to beg for Akko to come. Andrew stood behind her menacingly, a pressuring force looming in the room.

But really, how was she supposed to do this? Sure she had experience with the arts and dancing. She had wanted to be a performer at some point in her life before deciding on her current course, keeping the arts as a hobby. That covered her bases in terms of the ballroom dancing part. But as for etiquette and all that jazz, Akko had no clue. She was just a normal girl, living a normal life, having met amazing people, and... the love of her life.

She groaned in remembrance, pulling out a slip of paper, an extra entrance voucher. ‘Bring a plus one’, Denise had said. Well... that wouldn’t be a problem, Akko supposed. Maybe... She could always ask Diana.

The thought of the girl set flurries of butterflies wild in her stomach, face warming up along with her heart. She fiddled with the band situated around her left ring finger. She was still getting used to it, the metal feeling awkward in that spot. That’s just what she gets for never wearing it all these years. Kind of a nuisance, if she were being honest; but... at the same time... it was a reminder that...

[“So you’re... my soulmate...”

“Looks like it.”

“Did you... know about it?” She watched fluffy hair bounce along with the bobbing of a shy girl’s head. “How long...?”

“I had a feeling right from when we met... then confirmed it after you first showed me your planetarium.”

“...that’s a few weeks back.”

“You’re just so slow.”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s alright. It really is now.”]

“AAAAHHHH!!” Akko hollered, ridding herself of the embarrassed tension in her body. “Hnnnggghhh...” Holding in all her squeals, she flew onto her bed, hugging a pillow tight and rolling about. Maybe she should call Diana right now, if only to hear her voice. Oh, and she should just pop the question while she’s at it, the invitation.

A few rings, one, two, three fo-

[“Hello?”]

“Did you know I love your voice? It was the first thing I fell in love with, ever since you saved me from the clutches of death.” She couldn’t hold back the adoration she felt for the Englishwoman any longer.

[“Oh my god, Akko. Did you really just call me so you could be such a sap?”]  Her giggle was always the best, Akko reveled.

“No~, or kind of yes, but not entirely.”

[“Is that so?”] Diana teased through the line.

“Don’t believe me?”

[“Of course I do! After all... it’s my magic.”]

“Who’s the sap now.”

[“I learned only from the best.”]

“Amanda?”

[“YOU, you idiot!”] Akko laughed at the reaction, squealing inwardly in delight. Diana’s laughter alongside hers died down, the phone going silent for a bit. And then, [“You’re the best.”].

Akko just couldn’t handle it.

“I love you.”

[“I love you too, sweetheart.”]

“I love you, I love you, I love you.”

[“I love you more.”]

“I love you! I love you! I love you!”

[“I love you more than anything in this world.”]

Akko was not crying.

“I love you... be my plus one?”

[“...”]

[“Always.”]

//-//-//-//-//

“My baby... so grown up now and looking all gorgeous.” Mrs. Kagari wiped a tear from her eye, admiring her daughter in a russet-toned gown, sleeveless, with a low dip in the back, fitting, and at the same time, flowing off her frame and onto the floor. It was simple, yet elegant. It matched well with Akko’s hair; usual bangs side-swept, signature ponytail gone, her long brown hair slightly curled and hanging off on one shoulder, exposing the other. All this topped with a little make-up, and even Andrew commended this picture of Akko that could pass as part of high society.

“Shall we?” He held out an arm for her to take, door open with a car waiting right outside. Akko’s father sobbed loudly, holding onto his wife for dear life.

“M-Mama! MY BABY! MY BABY IS BEING TAKEN AWAY BY SOME RICH YOUNG BRAT WHO JUST LOOKS GOOD, AND IS A LITTLE SMART, AND OWNS A HOSPITAL.”

“Well, don’t those sound like amazing specs.” Akko’s mama laughed, consoling the poor man. “You sound like a father sending his daughter off to meet her groom.”

“I AM.”

“But Diana-chan is so cute, though?”

“Man or woman, whoever takes my baby away from me and ends up hurting her... they will never see the light of the afterlife.”

Diana felt a chill run up her spine as she waited in the car.

“Oh, hush you. You’re overreacting.”

“AM I?!”

“Byebye, papa. I’ll be home soon. Love you~ Love you more, Mama!”

“Ah- bye, my darling daughter, my baby, my sun, light of my world, my angel!”

“You can stop embarrassing her now, darling.”

//-//-//-//-//

“Akko, don’t be so stiff.” Diana whispered into the girl’s ear, a hand caressing the small of her back to ease away the nerves. “You’ll be fine. Just think of it as any old party.”

“E-e-e-easy for you t-to say. You g-grew up with th-this.” Akko retorted, a hand with some champagne shakily approaching her lips.

“Really, you’re too high-strung.” The blonde sighed, pointing to Akko’s best friends. “Look at Lotte and Sucy, they look normal.”

Akko glared at her best friends who seemed to be enjoying themselves without a worry in the world. Oh, golly, what a treat. Maybe she shouldn’t have offered their extra tickets to them so she wouldn’t feel as bitter.

“Hey.” A flick was sent to her forehead. “No mean thoughts.”

“I wasn’t-”

“Di.A. NAAAA~” Here came a wild Denise, flying through the air to hug an alarmed Diana, barely catching her. It would appear as thought they were good friends, and Denise, not knowing anything about the relationship between her two dear bosom buddies, had sent them each an invitation with the hopes of bringing a plus one to introduce to her (so she could tease them about it), all the while, being kept in the dark that their plus one just so happened to be each other.

Which also explained the extra tickets that had gone to Lotte and Sucy. Akko was afraid it would be rude to just hand them away, but Diana reassured her it would be just fine. They both knew how kind-hearted and open-minded Denise was anyway.

“M-miss Walsh... please let me breathe.”

“Diana~ It’s Denise!”

“D-Denise... please... my airways...”

With greetings out of the way (Akko being squeezed to death as well, to be fair), the announcement were made, and the party commenced, music playing as the floor opened for the dances.

...

Akko swore she was a good dancer. Really! She was the ace of their studio. She could dance almost anything after learning it over the course of a few weeks at most, and so few days at the very least. So she couldn’t understand just how she’d suddenly acquired two left feet, constantly, and clumsily stepping on poor Diana’s feet.

One step. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

Another miss. “Sorry.”

“It’s alright.”

“S-sorry!”

“...”

“Oh my gosh, I really am sorry!”

“I-it’s quite alright...”

“...”

“Wanna get some fresh air?”

“Pleasured.”

//-//-//-//-//

The Walsh’s family gardens were certainly award winning, Akko admired. As someone with a hobby in that field, this was a dream come true, to see such stellar workmanship. With flowers o’er the earth, and stars up above, the moon reflecting ripples into a still, small lake just a few yards down, it was the picture of beauty.

Yet nothing could compare to Diana by her side. Akko admired the way the woman’s gown clung to her curves in all the right places, how midnight blue reminded her of the skies they were under, and the dear stars in the heiress eyes sparkled ever brighter. How the earrings that dangled sparkling silver matched Akko’s own, only in gold, how her hair was fixed to the side as well, a portion of her bangs tucked neatly behind her ear, held back by a pin Akko had gotten her recently.

Akko was transfixed, as though she were under a witch’s spell. A very gorgeous, kind-hearted, hardworking, and sincere witch. A woman she loved with every fiber of her being, with the entirety of her heart.

She watched the moonlight caress ivory skin, glistening under its kind rays. Akko wanted to do so as well. Touch it, and know she was real and not just a figment of her imagination.

“I love you.” She murmured, reaching forward, arms wrapped around a slim waist, lips pressing against a bare shoulder. “I love you.”

Diana hummed, hands resting over Akko’s latched on to her abdomen. “Dance with me, Love.” She beckoned, leading them to sway under the night sky, the crickets and the breeze playing them a song of romance solely for their rapture.

The moon as their only witness, they vowed silent words, moving along the area, spinning, swaying, dancing, laughing, smiling, crying.

Akko never felt as lucky as she did in this moment. She was beyond fortunate. This moment she’d never forget, a memory never to be destroyed all her life, reminding her that she was blessed.

Blessed, and still a little foolish.

“I still don’t get it, you know. Why ‘cabbage’?”

Diana laughed into the tranquil night. Slapping Akko’s bare arm in fondness. “Did you really just ask that? Now of all times? With a romantic mood set up like this?” She shook her head in disbelief. “You are amazing, Kagari Atsuko. I love you to death, really I do... but are you seriously still hung over that?” She inquired, spinning her fated partner about, bringing her back in close. “Does it have to make sense? Isn’t it enough to know that you’re meant to be mine, and I’m forever yours?”

Akko returned that tender smile, leaning up to place a kiss against Diana’s throat. “Well, yeah, I guess; but... like... doesn’t that defeat the rings’ purpose, then?”

“Does it matter?”

“...It doesn’t. Not anymore. Not when you’re by my side, because that’s all that matters.”

“Great answer.”

“Diana?”

“Hmmm? What is it now?” Diana asked, amused that the peaceful mood didn’t look like it would settle back down anytime soon.

“For ruining the moment.... sorry.” All Akko’s laughing refuted that statement. Diana knew they both didn’t regret it one bit. Not at all. So with a smile only meant for her world nestled in her arms, leaning down and closing the gap bit-by-bit, what else could Diana reply with except,

“...It’s alright.”

And they saw stars.

//-//-//-//-//

This... was an unexpected development.

“...Wanna come over?”

“I’d love to.”

Cold, soaked and dropped off by the Cavendish’s service car, they made their way up the drive way, Akko fumbling for her house keys in the wee hours of the morning.

“Sorry, I really didn’t expect it to rain when I invited you out.”

“It’s fine, it wasn’t something within our control at all. The night looked perfectly clear, too.”

Flipping on the lights by the threshold, Akko guided Diana in, drenched shoes flying off, but immediately retrieved and set to the side to drip properly. They’d have to clean and dry those tomorrow better, but for now, a bath of warmth was in order.

Akko had insisted Diana take one first, but ever the gentlewoman, Diana did not move an inch until she was absolutely certain Akko would be alright. Her strongest argument stood to be, “Just who was it that I had to take to the hospital upon our first encounter.”, and Akko could only pout, begrudgingly accepting her defeat and warming herself a bath, but not without leaving Diana a towel and a temporary change of clothes so she wouldn’t get chills.

As Akko tagged Diana with a kiss to the lips, switching places after drawing the girl a fresh warm bath, she made her way to the kitchen, deciding to make them some vegetable soup to warm them up from the inside. Would Diana like that too?

Choosing and gathering her ingredients, she began prepping, chopping up everything as her water in the pot was brought to a boil.

It didn’t take her long at all to finish. By the time the food was ready, Diana was back downstairs, clad in one of Akko’s oversized shirts and pajama bottoms. It did strange things to Akko’s dear heart. On Diana’s part, just the sight of her future wife (she was a woman with a vision for tomorrow) preparing her a meal, fresh from a bath, in their own little world... How could she not fall deeper in love? So in love that she could just kiss her!

And she did just that.

Walking up to the shorter girl, Diana coaxed her into warm arms, a hand making its way into brunette strands, entangling them around her fingers, ring shining amidst them. This was bliss. This was everything to her.

This was everything to Akko. Everything she’d hoped for and wanted, and even more.

“I love you.”

“I love you.”

Soft. A little salty, maybe the soup’s seasoning. Warm and gentle, yet pressured and emotional. Tenderly passionate, and passionately tender, their lips danced a song that they’d forever remember.

And as they sat down to eat, seated in front of each other, they motioned for cheers with their chopsticks, a leafy green clipped between one pair.

And that’s when Akko realized that it all made perfect sense.

The rings weren’t wrong, and the words would always be right.

“Ah...

Cabbage.”

~end.

A/N: Can you believe it? All that, just so I could say in the end, “Cabbage”. Honestly, Akko is so slow. Somehow I’m not quite satisfied with this, and maybe I should’ve gone with a different approach or piece, or simply edited my original plan to fit safely within the guidelines, but... Idk. Maybe I’m as much of a fool as Akko, that way. Was it worth the thousands of bothersome words to read? Haha. Feedback is appreciated, as always. Hope you enjoyed.

~Shintori Khazumi

[kewltie]

college au katsuki is prelaw who gets the thrill of verbally eviscerating people in court just as he does outside of it, trading fists for words but the punch is all the same and izuku is a premed student who wants to save the world one person at a time but also lives on 24hr caffeine addiction. they're former childhood friends who got reacquainted again as dormmates in their freshman years in college and now they're sorta maybe something more but who the fuck even know because they refuse to acknowledge this tentative and fragile relationship between them especially with the turmoil of their shared past.

So katsuki would go out of his way to deliver five coffees for izuku's late night study session in the library. izuku often helps katsuki practice his mock trial and supports katsuki in his mission to tear into his opponent and make them cry. OK MAYBE NOT THE CRYING PART but still proud as fuck. izuku's sleep cycle is consistently fucked because he's always pulling late night studying sessions plus he got all these volunteerings so katsuki would find izuku sleeping randomly in odd places so to make sure he doesn't FUCKING ROLL OVER AND DIE he quietly tucked izuku into bed whenever he catches him sleeping on his desk or some random bench at their campus’ courtyard. While katsuki get really obsessed and competitive with maintain his consistent ranking as the stop student in his class and often hounds the professor when he get a 98 instead of 100 on his term papers and they're like, 'please someone get me midoriya-kun' as an emergency to wrangle katsuki back.

They have a super close and intimate non-relationship where it is THE RUMOR AND SPECULATION OF THE ENTIRE CAMPUS!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! katsuki coming to pick izuku up from his late night study sessions and dragging his tired ass back to their dorm across campus!!!! izuku attending every one of katsuki's debate competition and CHEERING HIM ON and professore is tired of saying, ‘midoriya this isn't a concert please calm down’. like they the fact they AREN'T DATING make the rumors even worst because everyone either assume they're FUCKING DUMBASS FOR NOT SEEING THE OBVIOUS or they're having a secret relationship on the downlow but still being obvious BECAUSE THEY'RE DUMBASS but either way they're still dumbasses lol.

worst is that the campus has a yearly best couple competition and bakudeku had been crowned three times since their enrollment and THEY'RE NOT EVEN DATING,,, or so they claimed but pictures of them holding hands, snuggled up in a reading nook in the library, and aggressively feeding each other food say otherwise. it became the biggest joke because they're IT COUPLE ON CAMPUS and THEY'RE NOT EVEN DATING. JUST TWO DUMB BROS being so intimately close that izuku wears katsuki's debate team jersey to class one day with BAKUGOU KATSUKI NAME ON HIS BACK and doesn't even blink when someone point it out.

i have this image of katsuki dragging izuku's sleepy ass across campus because they ARE NOT GOING TO BE LATE for their 8:30am class. izuku spent all night revising his term paper for another class due online at 8am so he's lon living on 9 cups of coffee and an hour of sleep. izuku doesn't even have time to change out of his pajamas before katsuki literally hauled izuku out of their dorm because katsuki had never been late to a class let alone MISS A DAY so he's not letting izuku DRAGGED HIS ASS DOWN lol even though he could have easily gone without him.

they scrambled across campus ground with izuku in his pjs still and NOBODY EVEN BLINK when they burst into the lecture hall with a min to spare. katsuki dumps izuku's sleepy ass in the seat next to his because everybody is kinda use to the 'bakugou and midoriya's show' by now. they dont often take the same course together because of their different majors (law and med) but they always lean toward taking the same elective when they can. so every semester there’s a hotly combative debate about what elective they should take together where it eventually into a war everytime lmao. izuku tends to pick wiLDLY DIFF ELECTIVE EVERYTIME that is humanity base (they took human sexuality one semester and katsuki is still mad about it) while katsuki leans toward classes have real world practicality like ceramics where izuku still kept all of katsuki's cutely shaped mugs.

izuku doesn't even have his notebooks or even his bag because katsuki had grabbed him and go, but katsuki is diligently taking notes next to him, his cellphone is recording the lecture and he got the lecture powerpoint outline printed out. he always come prepared and ready to destroy the class' curve!! while izuku is TRYING V V HARD not to doze off but when he nods off a little as his head about to drop, katsuki without even pausing mid-writing just pulls him back by the collar of his shirt so his head doesn't bang on the desk and it's JUST--!! so simple and dumb but it's INTIMATE!!

when izuku seems to lose the fight with sleep, katsuki brings a hot thermo with coffee in it to izuku's lips and lets him take a sip of it. NOT TOO MUCH because izuku doesn't need anymore to feed his caffeine addiction, but enough to keep him awake just few more mins. izuku is barely cognizant but sometimes the fact that he would raise a hand mid lecture to ask a serious question about the topic at hand is scary to the other students because they all remember that katsuki and izuku are top ranking in their class for a reason even if izuku is a zombie right now. this elective class is about erotica in classics because lol it's izuku turn to pick elective this semester and even tho KATSUKI ABSOLUTE LOATHES IT he's going to fucking ace this damn class even if he has to stare at several thousand years old art of people fucking on a wall.

bkdk are like giant enigma for the class because they take their grades V V V SRLY and consistently wreck the class average but they look like they dont give a single fuck about it because izuku is in his PJs and NODDING OFF IN CLASS while katsuki looks like he would rather die than be here. bkdk is fame not only because they (jokingly) keep winning best campus couple award every yearr EVEN THO they're not dating but because they do shit like izuku is nodding off on katsuki's shoulder while he doesn't seem to even care and/or notice as he debates the prof on a finer detail of the lecture.

once the class is over katsuki half drag and half-carry izuku out of there. he has a class right after this I ten mins and izuku doesnt, but he doesnt have time to drop izuku off at the dorm so he takes izuku with him to his next class like he's just an extra accessory he could bring LMAO. izuku is not even enrolled in the class which is political science class but katsuki deposits him in the seat beside him and lets izuku actually NAP this time as he pay attention to the lecture, throwing his coat over izuku's sleeping form as he snuggles up to katsuki while entire class tries not to stare too much. by the end of the afternoon the entire campus sns is lit up with receipts, recaps, and slyly taken photos of bakudeku's shenigans. there is even a popular running blog where anons can submit their bkdk's encounter stories chronicling their 'WEIRD MATING HABITS OF BAKUDEKU' lol because they are the cryptid bfs of the entire campus that everyone warn each other about but nobody can stop watching this trainwreck from happening.

[junhaoshua]

say my name like it’s something sacred

summary:  everyone is born with black words written on their wrist, the first words their soulmate would say to them, and the words turn red when you hear them. you’ve heard your words a dozen times, but they only turn red after you knock into a boy then run away. how are you going to find him again?

genre: fluff, soulmate au

word count: 2,506

A/N: happy birthday to the lovely chey of @soonhoonsol​!!!! she gave me two prompts: Soonyoung and World Toilet Day for her birthday fic. Chey, you’re wonderful and I’m so happy we’re friends, and I hope you like my take on your ideas ~ 

Everyone was born with black words written on their wrist, the first words their soulmate would say to them.

For some people, their words were delightfully straightforward. “Hi, my name’s so-and-so,” their soulmate’s name disclosed right there.

Some people had phrases that were so out there or so easy to misunderstand. One of your friends had the words “You actually like the devils?” on her wrist. She’d spent her teenage years hanging around screenings of soccer matches, only to hear those words from the older brother of kids she was babysitting.

And then there were phrases like yours. “Hey, it’s fine - are you okay?” Generic words, the type that you might hear a thousand times in your lifetime.

When you were younger, you’d checked your wrist every time you heard those words, hoping that this was your soulmate. The one who would make the black letters turn as red as the string of fate that tied you together. The one whose mark would appear below the words immediately after.

But it never came. The black writing still adorned your otherwise bare wrist.

---

“Alright, let’s have a ten-minute break before you start your groupwork,” your Visual Communications professor announces, and you breathe a sigh of relief.

Your two friends in the class, Mingyu and Minghao, roll their tables over to join you in the corner. “Finally, I feel like my brain’s going to short-circuit,” Gyu groans, tipping his chair to stretch out his long, long body and nearly overbalancing.

Hao grabs his hand before he can fall, glancing at you with a dramatic roll of his eyes. “Mingyu,” he says, and even though there’s exasperation in his voice, he still says his name like it’s something sacred. It’s utterly romantic.

“Sorry, Haohao,” the older boy says with a grin.

You laugh at their couple-ness. “I’m going to stretch my legs, watch my stuff?”

“See you!”

You grab your water bottle and head out of the freezing room, appreciating the warmth of the outdoors. The water cooler’s at the end of the corridor, which will give you some time to bask in the sun.

As you approach the water cooler, bright yellow tape catches your eye. OUT OF ORDER, a handwritten sign says. Ugh. This is going to take a while.

Second floor cooler broken, you text your best friend Hansol as you head towards the stairs. His class is just a few doors away from yours, and you don’t want him to make a wasted trip.

He replies instantly. They said water supply in this wing has been cut for now? Burst pipe downstairs. Prof just announced.

You send him a frowning emoji and a sigh, before pocketing your phone and picking up the pace. 

It’s quite a walk from the east wing to the central block, and you let out a sigh of relief as a working water cooler finally comes into sight, taking a long drink of cold water before filling up your bottle. 

If you hurry, maybe you can make it back in time. So you turn to go, trying to screw the lid back on as you go -

- forgetting that the water cooler is right outside the toilet, which means that you only see the boy exiting the washroom when you run right into him.

Your open water bottle splashes on him, drenching his white t-shirt, and you fall on your butt. Hard. “Sorry! I’m so sorry!” you exclaim in mortification.

“Hey, it’s fine - are you okay?” he asks, reaching down to help you up, and for a moment his soaked t-shirt is in front of your eyes. Partially hidden by his black-and-orange jacket, but still, that’s a fine chest.

Heat rushes to your cheeks as you grab your water bottle, averting your eyes. “I’m fine - I’m sorry!” you squeak, not daring to look the dark-haired boy in the eye.

Before he can say anything else, you turn tail and run back to your class.

You’re panting by the time you slip into your seat across Gyu and Hao. “Sorry for keeping you guys waiting.”

“It’s okay,” Minghao murmurs distractedly, tapping away at his phone. Gyu hums, and you notice he’s frantically texting too.

You turn your laptop on and pull up the files while waiting for them to finish. This isn’t really like them. Something must have happened.

Finally Gyu puts down his phone. “Sorry about that, one of our friends - oh my god you’ve met your soulmate!” he screeches, making most of the class turn to look in your direction.

“Keep your voice down,” Minghao chides him with a smack to the back of the head.

You slowly look down at where the long sleeve of your sweater has slipped down. The words are red. Red. And there’s a cartoony little sketch of an animal head on your wrist - the stripes suggest tiger, but the chubby cheeks and little ears look like a hamster.

“Where did you go? When did you meet him? Why didn’t you say anything?” Mingyu peppers you with questions in an excited whisper.

“I didn’t realise it,” you hiss back, as what just happened slowly hits you. “God - I ran into him, right outside the toilet - my soulmate’s gonna think I’m a huge klutz -”

“Outside the toilet?” Gyu parrots, his eyes wide. “That sounds like -”

Minghao slaps a hand over Gyu’s mouth. “Like you were really fated to meet, even at such an - interesting location. And he’s your soulmate. I’m sure he’s overjoyed to meet you at last.”

“But I didn’t even get a good look at his face,” you groan, covering your face with your hands. “He was kinda lean - black hair, striped jacket - but that could be anyone, how on earth am I going to find him - go to the Soulmate Registry saying oh hey can you ask if anyone bumped into a girl outside a toilet and got water splashed on them? Yeah, that’s my soulmate -”

Gyu looks like he wants to screech again, but Hao shoots him a glare. “If fate brought you to meet each other the first time, fate’ll make sure you meet again,” the boy says, giving you a gentle pat on the hand. “I met Gyu on his last day working at the bubble tea shop, and I thought I’d never find him once school started, but we ended up being introduced by our friends.”

You bury your face in your hands. “Can we get to work now?”

Thankfully, they drop the subject, and the rest of the time is spent working on your project.

“Gyu, you were supposed to ask her something,” Hao reminds him, as class ends and you all start packing up to go.

Mingyu snaps his fingers. “Right, I nearly forgot. You know the showcase that’s coming up?”

You nod. It’s part of being a college specialising in the arts. Every semester, they hold a huge event for the students to showcase their talent - art, fashion, photography, music, dance, et cetera. “You’re going for it?”

“A group of us are, actually. The rap crew, Hao’s dance crew, and Woozi’s vocal group - you know him, right?” 

Minghao facepalms at the question, and you let out a giggle. “You mean Hansol’s soulmate?” As if it was possible to forget the person your best friend was destined to spend his life with. The short, fiery older boy was a perfect counter to Hansol’s easygoing attitude.

Gyu lets out a bark of laughter as you head out the door together. “God, my brain isn’t working today. We’re going to audition for the showcase together, as one big group. And we were thinking that our application would look a lot cooler if we had a nice video - kinda like a trailer, something to show us off, three talented groups -” Hao coughs at the casual boast “-coming together.”

You nod slowly. “It’ll be a lot more interesting than taping your performance.”

“Great!” Gyu claps his hands. “So Hansol recommended you to the group as the best person for the job, and we’d love if you could help us make it!”

“What?” you yelp in shock. “I’m not that fantastic - Why can’t you or Hao do it?”

Minghao shrugs. “I’ve seen your work, you’re pretty good. And we can’t exactly film ourselves while performing, not if we want nice angles and closeups. You’d be a great help.” 

Warmth blossoms in your chest at the compliment, but you still have reservations. “But - I don’t know your theme, your concept -”

Gyu waves a hand. “That’s no issue, you can come down and watch us practice and help to think of a concept. Please?”

It’s impossible to refuse those huge puppy eyes. You let out a sigh. “I’ll come watch, and think it over, and decide whether or not I feel up to the job after that, alright?”

“Yes!” Gyu shrieks, making everyone look over at you again. “I mean - yes, that’s fantastic, we’re going to have a practice later and you can meet -”

“The rest of the group,” Minghao cuts in. “We’ll let them know you’re coming, it’s right after your last class with Hansol.”

---

After class, you pull Hansol aside. “Okay, spill.”

Your best friend blinks at you with wide eyes. “About what?”

“Gyu was practically bouncing when I agreed to watch you guys practice, and you’ve been shooting me looks throughout class. You’re up to something.”

He flushes. “It’s just… we haven’t let anyone else in to see us perform before.”

You eye Hansol. Part of growing up together is knowing exactly when the other person is hiding something. And everything about his too-wide smile is screaming I have a secret. He’s always been an atrocious liar. “Are all the others okay with it?”

“Yeah! Yeah, they are.”

You hum. “Is there anything else I should know?”

“It’s - no, not right now.”

You eye him for a moment longer, but he looks at you with the same fixed smile. Never mind.

“So… I hear you met your soulmate,” he says after a few moments of silence.

“I should’ve known those two wouldn’t keep it a secret.”

He grins. “It’s going to make a great story to tell people, you know. How many people can say they literally fell for their soulmate?”

“Outside a toilet,” you say, flushing at the memory. “And aren’t you getting a little ahead when I don’t even know his name?”

“Yeah, so all you need is to know his name,” Hansol says, shrugging. “You’re soulmates, the rest will sort itself out.”

“What if I’m not what he wants from a soulmate? What if he’s not what I want?”

Hansol glances over at you. “What do you want?”

You sigh, thinking back to your childhood imaginings, to what you’ve always imagined your perfect other half would be like. “Funny. Bright - I don’t mean like smart, though that’s nice, I mean his energy? Loud and enthusiastic, but someone who’s okay with just sitting back and being chill too, or it would be tiring trying to keep up with him. And he’s got to be kind, and wholesome, and gentle - someone comforting, someone good...”

Hansol’s grin has been slowly growing as you talk. “I’m sure he’s going to be all of that. He’s your soulmate, he’s going to be perfect for you. And you’ll be perfect for him.”

“But -”

“No buts, I know my soulmate, you don’t, I’m the expert here.”

...he’s got a point there, not that you want to admit it. So you change the subject to something useful. “Tell me more about the performance?”

By now, you’ve reached the door of the studio, and he pushes it open with a grin. “Why don’t you see it for yourself?”

“Hansol got you to come along!” Seokmin cheers as you come in, leaping up.

You laugh and give him a hug. “Just to watch. I haven’t promised anything yet.”

“You will,” Jeonghan says knowingly as you settle down on the floor, offering you a bag of snacks. “You won’t be able to trust anyone else to make a video that captures our magnificence adequately.”

You burst out laughing, but it’s true. You know all the people in this room, and you can already imagine how to show them off. Seokmin had been your friend since middle school, and you’d been there when he met his soulmate in the new transfer student, Seungkwan. The four of you had been inseparable since. And you’d known everyone in the rap crew since high school. The leader, Seungcheol, was one of the lucky few blessed with two soulmates, who just so happened to be the last two members of Jihoon’s vocal group - Jeonghan and Jisoo.

And that’s when it hits you. “What about the dance crew?” Minghao and Jun are conspicuously absent, and you’re fairly sure there are a couple of others you’ve never met before.

“On their way, Hoshi wanted to run the choreo by them one last time before meeting us,” Seungkwan tells you, taking a sip of his iced Americano.

“Hoshi?” you echo. “I don’t think I know him?”

Jeonghan smirks. “Oh, you’ll recognise him when you see him, I’m sure -”

“He’s their leader and choreographer, you must have seen him at last year’s showcase,” Jisoo chimes in.

“I was sick, remember? So I wasn’t there to support you guys.”

Wonwoo gives a little oh. “Well, that explains - but there’s him, and Hao and Jun, and their other choreographer Dino, he’s your age.” His gaze softens when he mentions his soulmate’s name, and you can’t help but hope your soulmate will look like that when he talks about you.

“Hoshi and Dino,” you repeat, the names echoing oddly in your mind. 

“Their real names are Soonyoung and Chan,” Jihoon clarifies. “Those two, one wants to rock the stage like a dinosaur, the other one thinks he’s a tiger -” he stops when Hansol nudges him.

Just at that moment, the door opens.

“Are you sure you can do it?” the one in front asks as he comes in, waving his hands around. “It’s going to look flashy, but if you get injured -” He’s walking backwards, slim and black-haired, wearing a jacket with black and orange stripes.

Your breath catches in your throat.

“I can do it,” Minghao says, exasperation in his tone. “It’ll make a great ending.”

“And you need to watch where you’re going,” Jun says, gently taking the boy by the arms and turning him around, giving you a broad wink over his head as he does so.

The boy stops short the moment he sees you, and when you lay eyes on his face, you know.

“Soonyoung?” you ask, caught between hope and yearning.

“That’s me,” he whispers. “Hi, soulmate.”

You tell him your name and he repeats it, the word falling from his lips like it’s something sacred. “I’ve been searching for you my whole life,” he murmurs, and at that moment, you feel something missing in your heart click into place.

Because you’ve finally found the person who’s perfect for you, and you’re perfect for him, too.

[jbbuckybarnes]

Professor Sugar - 2/7

Pairing: Student!Reader x Professor!Bucky Description: Like tons of other students you struggle with finances, but you can’t get any aid since your parents are filthy rich. The system doesn’t care that they broke off contact after you came out as bisexual. There is, however, someone else that cares. The prof of your class on PTSD and trauma. Professor Barnes. Written for: @fanfictionaries​ & @star-spangled-man-with-a-plan​‘s challenges. Warnings: Financial Instability, not beta read.

Professor Sugar Masterlist // Masterlist 

Books & Coffee

You sat in the student café next to the building Mr. Barnes held his classes in. An hour is what he said. An hour on your phone and staring up at coffee prices that were worth multiple instant noodle packs. Last semester you could sometimes indulge in a cup of coffee if something was left at the end of a month. Now that you were one job down that wasn‘t a possibility anymore unless you had an absolute reason to celebrate or were seriously down.

„I see you‘re doing your homework.“ You heard and looked up at your favorite professor. „Yeah. It feels weird not doing anything.“ You commented and let your fingernails clack on your phone case. „You could read a book.“ He suggested and sat down on one of the chairs. „I don‘t really have the concentration for that and audiobooks are too expensive.“ You shrugged and started playing with the hem of your shirt. „The library has a lot of their books as audiobooks. In case you didn‘t know.“ He continued suggesting. „Yeah, but it‘s mostly the boring stuff. I want some true crime or deeply researched investigative journalism.“ You smiled a little awkward, thinking about your oddly specific book interests. „Oh, that‘s your type of thing, huh?“ He grinned and took note of how your interests connected perfectly to the field you studied. „I have this really cool book on my list about the Pentagon and how it works. $35 for the audiobook. Nobody can tell me the government doesn‘t want the less stable to stay unstable.“ You got a little political. „$35 you say?“ You heard and looked up from the café menu you had been spinning around. Confusion clearly written across your face, „Yeah.“ „How about you write a B+ or better on the first test and I get you your book?“ He smiled over at you and made you blink in disbelief. „I can‘t take th-“ „Yes, you can. I‘d buy any student a book if they wanted one.“ He held out his hand to you. „Fine.“ You shook his hand, „But it‘s on you if this isn‘t allowed, Mr. Barnes.“ „Promise.“ And with that sweet smile he was all the way over by the counter, ordering a black coffee. *Cute Prof just told me he‘d buy me a book on my reading list if I land a B+ or better!* You texted Samantha a little nervous about the whole thing. *Academic sugar daddy!!!!* Was the only message coming back. *Of course, your mind goes there.* You sent back while rolling your eyes.

And like that you went and studied harder than ever for that course. Having a professor that actually felt like he believed in you made quite a difference. After every lesson you went and showed him your neatly organized study notes from the previous lesson and every time you got a thumbs up or a good suggestions from him. You looked at study accounts and tried to emulate their notes so you had more fun studying and you regularly watched „study with me“ videos to keep yourself going on the bad days. The other courses were still hard, but you knew you wouldn‘t have to be as concerned about them compared to Barnes‘ class.

After a few weeks the first test came around and you felt prepared and motivated...until you got the results back. „B-“ He handed the paper to you with an almost apologizing smile. „Fuck.“ What did that mean for the rest of the year if you already were so under average in the first test? „Hey, it‘s alright. I saw how much you worked your butt off. You‘re trying.“ He said encouragingly. „Apparently not hard enough.“ You mumbled and walked out of the classroom under worried eyes. How was it so hard for you to learn about trauma and then put it onto paper in a test? You really liked the topic too, so why didn‘t it feel easy to you?

You went into the coffee shop, mind kinda clouded and ready to just plop into bed. But instead, you decided to order a drink. „A caramel macchiato, please.“ You got out a little more depressed than intended. „Make that two.“ A familiar voice said behind you. You turned around to see your professor again, „It‘s on me.“ „Miste-„ „I said what I said, put your money away.“ He grinned and you rolled your eyes while putting your wallet away. Was he like this to everyone? Damn it, this is why you should be more social with people in courses you‘re in!

A few moments later you were sitting on your usual table with him across from you. „Found your Goodreads account. And a few others‘ in the class. Why do my students keep using their full name as nicknames? Whatever. I saw the book you mentioned last time. Pulitzer, huh?“ He smiled impressed. „Yeah, and she reads her audiobooks herself. Super calming voice.“ You drifted off a bit until you saw him take something out of his wallet. A card that he slid over to you. „An Amazon gift card...Mister B-“ „-I said in the first lesson, you all can call me Bucky.“ He grinned. „That‘s too much. A coffee? Fine. But this?“ You raised a brow and pointed at the card. „I‘ve seen your hard work and you‘ll finish on time if you keep working like that.“ He gave you a proud smile. „I can‘t take that Bucky.“ You said again and it felt strangely good saying that name and it also felt good to hear out of your mouth. „Yes, you can. I‘m not taking it back.“ He held up his hands a bit with a dramatic face. „Fine“ You grumbled and put it in your worn off wallet. Your phone lit up, a screen with a few scratches was illuminated. *And? What‘s the grade?* *B-* *Fuck...but that‘s still way better than the C‘s and C-‘s you had last year.* He looked at you a little more. The only really nice thing you had was your iPad Pro with the Stylus. You constantly used it in his classes. The rest? He didn‘t see financial instability, but if he looked closer, like right now, he could see the little things. The old phone, the fact you never really get coffee here, the torn-up wallet, the old backpack you used for your study materials. „Can I ask what happened with your parents?“ He asked a little softer. „Came out as bisexual to them.“ You mumbled, staring at your coffee, shrugging lightly. „That‘s all?“ His eyebrow raised and he was surprised that this was everything to it. You nodded, „Wow.“ „Jup. Just don‘t know if my psyche would‘ve suffered less around those people, compared to living with my friend and barely paying rent.“ You commented on your weekly recurring thoughts. „I‘ll look into more potential study aids, alright? I know you‘re not the only one in the class with that problem. I hate to see that happen more and more.“ He frowned concerned. „You don‘t have to.“ You mumbled again, still holding onto your coffee. „Yes, I do. You keep studying. No reason why you should also have that on your mind all the time if I have more than enough time for it.“ He insisted. „Bucky?“ „Hm?“ His eyes went up and you were met with a glimpse of a puppy face. „Thank you. You do more than a professor needs to do.“ A big smile was interchanged before you brought out your iPad again and flipped open the case to reveal the keyboard. „How‘d you afford that handy thing?“ He pointed at it nonchalantly. „There are aids for digital study material, and tax benefits, so I took the opportunity that I saw.“ You grinned proudly. „I see you frowning every time that pen runs out of battery and you need to switch to typing with the pen attached to it.“ A wide grin was spread across his face. „Glad I‘m entertaining.“ God, why was it so easy to flirt with him? It shouldn‘t be so easy to flirt with him. „Well then, my office hours start soon. Tell me how the book is.“ He said standing up. „Will do.“ And he was out of the door.

[holylulusworld]

A & X - Perfect Mix

Request: Could you perhaps do a fic where you’re part of the Avengers and you have to work with the x men. Logan catches your attention and you catch his. You both flirt and it’s sort of a love-hate thing. End smutty if you do that?

Pairing: Logan x Reader, Steve Rogers, Professor X, Natasha Romanoff, Bucky Barnes, +another reader (you’ll see)

Warnings: angst, language, arguments, smut, unprotected sex, dirty talk, size kink

X vs. A Masterlist

6000 Followers BINGO CARD kink: Size Kink

(I combined the next part of this mini-series with the kink card)

6000 Followers Celebration Masterlist

Around six months later…

“That’s great, Professor. Shall we practice some more, or did we wear Wolverine and the others out?” Chuckling you feel your boyfriend ogle your ass in your tight suit. He’s licking his lips, ready to pounce on you every moment.

“I think the training went well and we should have a break for today. Dinner is ready soon and I think our guests and my team need a shower and some hours to relax.” Charles explains as Wolverine subtle moves closer and closer till he can bury his nose into your hair.

“Logan…” Scolding the tall mutant as he started groping your ass in front of his ‘team-leader’ and Steve you curse under your breath as Logan shamelessly nips at your neck.

“Going to fuck you so hard the moment we are out of this room.” 

Steve is clenching his jaw. His advanced hearing makes it possible to hear all the dirty things Logan is whispering into your ear. Almost choking on air Steve must listen to Wolverine calling you his dirty girl and that he loves to manhandle his tiny girlfriend.

“I’ll kill you! I swear I’m going to ram my shield into your face and break it.” Steve storms toward your boyfriend but you step between both men. 

“Dude, what the fuck is wrong with you?” Wolverine slides his claws out, ready to attack your friend but you turn around to place your hands onto his chest, trying to tame the wild beast Logan occasionally turns into.

“Wolvie, calm. Steve got something wrong, I guess.” Looking over your shoulder you search your friend’s face. “Right, Stevie?”

“He said that he likes to manhandle you as you are smaller! A man should never hurt his girl!” Steve tries to get hold of Logan but you shove him away.

“Steve, fuck…” Giggling you feel the heat creeping into your cheeks. “I like it, okay. Damn, Logan is good at pinning me to the wall and…” Clearing your throat you look up at Steve to watch his face flush red. Flustered the tall Avenger suddenly finds his shoes interesting.

“I didn’t need to know that, Y/N. If he ever hurts you, tell us so and we rip him apart.” Steve’s stormy blue eyes give Logan a warning glare before he excuses himself to talk to Bucky about what he just heard.

“Is Captain America a fucking prude? Dude, he should fuck from time to time. Blue balls and all…” Chuckling Logan grabs your waist to toss you over his broad shoulder. “Prof, I’m out, giving it good to my girl.” Shameless Logan walks out of the room as Jean, Scott, and Natasha watch the scene wide eyes.

“I have to excuse Logan’s behavior but close to Y/N he becomes very…” Coughing Charles glances at his hands. “Territorial. Steve is a competitor to his claim and that’s the reason he has to prove he can satisfy Y/N in every possible way…especially…” Clearing his throat Charles looks at Natasha, flustered. “Sexually.”

“I wouldn’t mind if he dragged me out of the room. What an animal…” Natasha swoons and Clint makes an odd noise as he enters the room. 

—-

“I’m telling you this is not a healthy relationship, Buck. We have to do something about this animal abusing our sister.” Steve is pacing around the garden as Bucky nods.

“What exactly did he say?” Bucky searches his friend’s face, enjoining the struggle on Steve’s features.

“That he likes to manhandle her…” Steve is flustered, not liking the way Bucky smirks. “…something about her size and more…dirty girl…”

“Punk, I guess they have a size kink, okay. Y/N is not in danger and for sure she could break Logan’s bones if she wanted to. You know that she even mopped the floor with you…” Bucky pokes a finger into Steve’s chest, still chuckling.

“Only that once and I was unconcentrated, Buck.”

“Just keep on telling yourself so…” Walking back toward the Mansion Bucky smirks as Steve runs after him. “Wait! What about the animal using her?”

“Stevie, our girl likes that punk, let her have some fun. The last seventy years weren’t easy for her, just like for me. We experienced abuse and manipulation.” Bucky’s features soften as he pats his friends’ shoulder. “I can assure you Wolverine is not abusing her, nor does he hurt Y/N. She’s relaxed around him, Steve. Give her this…”

“OH…you sure?” Steve is searching his friend’s face, sighing as Bucky places one hand onto Steve’s back to lead him back into the Mansion.

“Maybe you should release some steam too? I heard there is a hot chick which just arrived, and she will train with us back at the Avenger’s tower. Hell of a girl…” Bucky smirks as Steve licks his lips.

“I think you are right. Revenge for the Wolverine using our girl…”

—-

“Look at my girl.” Growling Wolverine licks his lips as he can see your eyes darken at the sight of his naked form circling you like his prey. “Such a tiny little snack.” 

Humming Logan purrs before he grabs your waist to pick you up. Your legs are around his waist in a blink and he smirks as you bite his neck hard enough to mark him.

“The little snack will eat you alive, you tall mountain of delicious meat. Chuckling you feel Logan’s hands grope your ass, groaning as he can feel his cock press against your slit.

Your hands play with his hair as you plant soft kisses all over his face, along his jawline, even to his nose. Enjoying your attention Logan moves one hand between your body’s, lining his cock up with your entrance, before he presses you against the wall, snapping his hips forward.

“Oh, fuck…” Splitting you open Logan buries his face into your neck as he starts pumping into you. His hands hold your body in a tight grip to move you along his length.

Head threw back you moan his name, not caring about the dirty noises you make. Wolverine’s eyes darken with every snap of his hips as he enjoys the view of your tits jerking.

“Such a dirty girl, taking my dick so good.” Logan’s words come out as a low purr and you press your hands to the wall behind you, bracing yourself for his harder coming thrusts.

Your toes start curling right before Logan pulls out to toss you onto the bed. He’s groaning, a smirk on his face as he stalks toward you like a wolf ready to devour his prey.

“My little lamb…” Logan purrs crawling onto the bed to cover your body with his way taller frame. “The big bad wolf will devour you completely.” His rough hands slide over your legs before he settles between your thighs, sinking slowly back into you.

Logan is watching your face contort, as shallow breaths leave your lips with every hard thrust of his thick shaft.

“Logan…Wolvie…” Hands pawing at his shoulders you watch your boyfriend moving on top of you. He’s close, you can feel his cock twitch, so you move one hand between your connected bodies, flicking your clit to squeeze him tightly.

“Come for me, little lamb…” Logan purrs into your neck and you curse his name.

His thrusts come slower now; he’s just lazily pumping into you to ride your pleasure out. “Fuck Wolvie come on. Wanna feel you cum…” Fisting his hair you lock eyes with Logan, as you meet his thrusts, causing him to let go with a loud grunt or rather growl…

“I think…” Nipping at your neck Logan chuckles. “I marked my territory, little lamb. Do you think Captain Prude got the message?” Confused you look up at Wolverine as he points toward your phone.

“Holy shit…don’t tell me. No, you didn’t…” Logan shrugs, busy to mark your shoulder with his lips. “He will kill you Wolvie…”

“He can try…” Biting your shoulder Wolverine growls. “But he won’t succeed. I’m older, harder and fuck…in love. No one kicks my ass when I have better things to do…”

—-

Please be aware (the reader) in the last lines is a different one. 😉

“I swear I will kill him…” Steve smashes the phone against the wall, glaring at someone entering the room. 

“Oh, did you break your phone, Captain?” Holding out her hand (the reader) smiles at the tall Avenger. “I already met the other Avengers, along with Logan’s new girlfriend. I’m (the reader). Nice to finally meet you, Captain. I’m Logan’s stepsister as he kinda adopted me.” 

Steve’s eyes darken and he can barely concentrate as the young woman let him hold her hand way too long. “I’m pleased to meet Logan’s lovely sister. I’m sure we will become good friends, very good friends.” Steve purrs pecking her hand.

“I’m glad to hear, Captain.” Smiling sweetly, she tries to ignore her brothers growl behind her back as all she can see is Captain America’s smile and the way his blue eyes are glued to her face. “I need to go but I would talk to you some more during dinner, Captain.” Turning to leave she smiles at her brother as Steve clears his throat.

“Steve, call me Steve, doll.” A smirk all over his face at sight of Logan’s angry face Steve needs to hold back a chuckle.

Looking over her shoulder (the reader) smiles, nodding. “Steve it is then. See ya…”

Logan waits for his sister to leave before he storms toward Steve, sliding his claws out. “One wrong look, one false word and you are dog food.” Wolverine snarls as it’s Steve’s turn to smirk.

“I think…” Chuckling Steve gives Wolverine a wink. “It’s time to get to know your sister better. Such a tiny girl…so sweet…”

Gulping Logan watches Steve walk out of the room, cursing under his breath as you gently pat his back. “Shhh…Cap is a smooth lover, Wolvie.”

Retching Logan shakes his head before he grabs your hand to run after his sister. He must make sure Steve can’t touch her…

There will be another part with Steve x Wolverine’s sister ;)

All works Tags

@yolobloggers​, @meganywinchester​, @shikshinkwon​, @miraclesoflove​ , @mogaruke​​, @shatteredabby​, @soryuwifeyxx​, @letsdisneythings​, @i-love-superhero​​, @psychicforest​, @thevelvetseries​, @deanmonandnegansbitch​, @sabascio​​, @goodgodimaweirdperson​​, @that-place-called-middle-earth​​, @the-broken-angel-13​​, @mblaqgi​​

Marvel Tags

@stuckys-whore​, @notyourtypicalrose​, @voltage-my2dlove​, @thedoctorscamanion, @officialmarvelwhore​, @randomgirlkensy​, @juniorhuntersam​, @lumar014​, @doctorswife221b​, @sister-winchesters99​, @sweetkingdomstarlight-blog​, @the-soulofdevil​​, @chonisberonica​ , @redroomproperty​​, @natura1phenomenon​​, @chaoticfiretaconerd​

[quinnybee-writes]

Title: On the Same Page (Of A Slightly Different Edition)

Fandom: Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia

Rating: G

Words: 6350

Summary: Hogwarts/Harry Potter AU; Sequel to Leap of Fate ( Tumblr / AO3 )

Shouta Aizawa isn't just a Hufflepuff, he's the Hufflepuff, which means Hizashi has to do everything in his power to make sure today goes exactly to plan.

Which, of course, is why a rainstorm, a stray kitten, and a whole host of jitters, insecurities, and inopportune timing decide to invite themselves along for the ride.

On AO3

Hizashi frowned hard at his reflection in the common room mirror. His hair wasn’t doing anything out of the ordinary but today wasn’t the day for “ordinary”. He sighed, fluffing it out of shape and then back in, hoping that would make it stop annoying him. It didn’t.

“I’m gonna shave my head,” he groused under his breath.

“I wouldn’t if I were you,” Nemuri replied from one of the nearby armchairs. “It’ll make your forehead look big. Well, bigger.”

Hizashi scowled at her through the mirror. “You always know just what to say,” he replied flatly. Nemuri blew him a kiss.

“Seriously, though, you look fine. Aizawa already thinks you’re a total cutie, you don’t have to try so hard,” she said.

Hizashi felt his face going red for the thousandth time that morning. As much as Nemuri seemed to think he and Aizawa were some kind of sure thing, the anxiety-riddled basilisk squirming in his gut had other opinions. If Aizawa was just some random good samaritan Hufflepuff he’d met a week ago, he could have shaken off his jitters and still had a great day in the village whether they ended up clicking with one another or not.

But Shouta Aizawa wasn’t just a Hufflepuff, he was the Hufflepuff. He had been ever since he’d glanced across the table during a blended Potions class their third year, diagnosed Hizashi’s disastrous mixture as being the result of the nettle extract not emulsifying, and suggested he mix both clockwise and counterclockwise to make it come together before returning to his own work without another word. That had been the first time in three years of Potions lessons that Hizashi’s sample had come out right without at least a half dozen revisions, and like a song from a genre you never thought you’d like, Aizawa had been stuck in Hizashi’s head ever since. Hizashi had tried to thank him for it a thousand times, but could never manage to tamp down the nauseous mix of intimidation and infatuation that bubbled up in his stomach the moment the two of them made eye contact. Not until Aizawa had risked literal life and limb to rescue Hizashi from his own inattentiveness and the infatuation momentarily won control of his tongue, anyway.    

“Oi, Yamada.” Nemuri snapped her fingers in front of his nose, jogging him out of his thoughts. Hizashi blinked and looked over at her.

“Sorry, yeah, what?” he said. Nemuri gave him a sympathetic smile despite her raised eyebrow and took his face in her hands.

“Look me in the eye and listen close, okay? This boy is crazy about you. He jumped out of the stands to save you from a nerfed Bludger during a school-sanctioned Quidditch match. He wants. To smooch. Your face,” Nemuri said, squishing his cheeks to punctuate.

The thought of not just hanging out with but kissing Aizawa hadn’t occured to Hizashi until now, and it sent a whole new sharp flip through the pit of his stomach. His face burned and prickled like it was trying to flush and grow pale at the same time. “I think I’m gonna barf. Thanks, Nems,” Hizashi said weakly.

“Hey, it worked for him, didn’t it?” Nemuri pointed out, standing on tiptoe to give him a peck on the forehead. “Now stop stalling and go get your man.” She took him by the shoulders and turned him towards the door, giving him an encouraging swat on the backside to get him moving. Hizashi took a deep breath, squared his shoulders as best he could despite his whole body feeling like it was going to shake apart, and forced himself to start walking.

Aizawa was already waiting for him on one of the courtyard benches. Hizashi felt a little overdressed in the skinny jeans, concert teeshirt, and sleek leather jacket he had pestered Nemuri into helping him pick out as he took in the scuffed cuffs of Aizawa’s faded black jeans and the well-worn thumb holes in the sleeves of his hoodie. Aizawa looked like he’d rolled out of bed looking effortlessly cool and casual, slouched forward with his free elbow on his knee and his attention buried in a paperback novel he’d folded in half so that he could read it one-handed. Hizashi swallowed hard, his throat dry and his palms starting to sweat.

C’mon, Yamada, this is no time to be gutless, he reminded himself sternly. “Hey!” he called to Aizawa. It came out louder than he had really intended, echoing in the mostly-empty courtyard. As with everything, though, Aizawa took the noisy greeting in stride. He looked up from his book, shaking hair out of his face, and unfolded himself from the bench as Hizashi strode over.

“Morning,” Aizawa replied with a nod.

“Sorry if you were waiting long,” Hizashi said with an awkward laugh. “I was, ah. Um. Sorry.”

Aizawa shrugged. “I don’t mind,” he said, holding up his book as evidence before stuffing it into his back pocket. “I think most people already went on ahead,” he added. “We should get going before the pub gets too crowded.”

“Sure, yeah,” Hizashi agreed.

Neither of them spoke much on the way down to the village. The short walk seemed to grow longer and longer the more Hizashi tried to think of ways to fill it. He wished he’d spent less time picking Nemuri’s brain about what he should wear and more about what people actually did on dates. His brief middle school romance with her in his second year followed by several years of long-distance crushing on someone he had been too terrified to speak to had left him severely underprepared. He was pretty sure holding hands was a thing, but was it a first date thing? Maybe not this soon after meeting up with the other person. Conversation was the most obvious answer but a vast chasm of blank nothing opened in his brain the moment Hizashi tried to think of something to say.

“You like the Weird Sisters?” The question silenced the panicked claxons going off in Hizashi’s brain instantly. “Your shirt,” Aizawa went on when Hizashi just stared at him without answering. Hizashi reflexively glanced down like he’d somehow forgotten what he was wearing, then nodded with a sheepish grin.

“Yeah, they’re cool,” he said. “My sister Haruko was super into them when we were kids and it kind of rubbed off on me. We went to their show in London last summer for her birthday, that’s where I got this,” he added, tugging at the hem of his shirt. “How ‘bout you?”

Aizawa nodded. “They’re one of my favorite bands,” he said.

“Really?” Hizashi asked, secretly thrilled that they’d already found something to agree on.

“Yeah. I’ve never gotten to see them live, though. Kinda jealous.” Aizawa flashed a sliver of a smirk that made Hizashi’s heart seize hard in his chest.

“We should go together sometime!” Hizashi blurted out before he could stop himself. He flushed as a few people ahead of them glanced back to see what all the noise was about. Aizawa, though, grinned again and shrugged his uninjured shoulder.

“Yeah, maybe,” he half-agreed. His face was mostly hidden behind his hair, but Hizashi could have sworn he was blushing too.

As predicted, the main room of The Three Broomsticks was packed with students and staff getting in one last relaxed moment before the end-of-year exam crunch began. The two of them put in their orders at the bar, then sought out one of the last remaining open tables.

“I’ve never seen so many people trying not to make eye contact at one time before,” Aizawa commented as he looked around the pub. Hizashi laughed.

“It’s like avoiding the T-Rex in Jurassic Park,” he joked. “If nobody moves, the students can’t beg for extra credit and the profs can’t remind you about your career counselling appointments.”

“Terrifying,” Aizawa said dryly.

“It is for me,” Hizashi admitted with a laugh. “I’m pretty sure Torino’s going to run me down the next time I tell him I still don’t know what I want to do after graduation.”

As if to prove his point there came a badly-muffled snicker from a couple tables away. Hizashi glanced over to see Professors Torino and Shimura along with Shimura’s TA Toshinori Yagi commiserating over drinks and stacks of grading. All three waved, Torino with a somewhat more meaningful smile than the other two. Hizashi felt himself flush and gave a vague flail of his hand in return before quickly looking away.

“See?” he said, turning back to Aizawa. Aizawa gave a kind of “well, when you put it that way” half-nod, half-shrug.

“I assumed you were going to be a professional Seeker somewhere,” Aizawa said. “Slytherin’s been unbeatable ever since you joined the team. With your talent you could easily get scouted for at least a semi-pro league right out of school.”

He said it without any hint of flattery or exaggeration in his voice, like it was simply an immutable, commonly known fact; water was wet, the sky was blue, and as far as Aizawa was concerned Hizashi had what it took to be a pro Seeker. Hizashi tried to cover the flustered catch in his throat by grinning and miming flipping his hair over his shoulder.

“Well, obviously,” he joked. “But...I dunno. I think if I’m gonna to do something for the rest of my life it should be something I’m gonna have fun doing, y’know? And the most fun part about playing Quidditch is getting to hang out and play with Nemuri and the others,” he said. “If I can figure out a way to group all of my friends together into a new league for just us I might consider it, but it doesn’t look like that’ll happen anytime soon.” Hizashi laughed apologetically, suddenly worried he might be straying too far into “Oversharing My Insecurities” territory for this early in the day. He was saved the additional discomfort of backpedaling by their lunch arriving. Looking at food made his stomach double-knot but he tried his best to not show it.

“How about you? What do you want to do after you’re out of school?” Hizashi asked, dumping too much ketchup on his fries as an alternative to eating them.

Aizawa shrugged and shook his head. “I don’t really know either,” he admitted with a slightly grudging tone to his voice. “Shirakumo keeps telling me I should become a teacher, but I’m not sure.”

“Oh yeah? I think you’d be good at it,” Hizashi said, thoughts of a solemn-eyed thirteen-year-old saving him from certain disaster drifting through his head. “You’re one of the top brains in the year and you’ve definitely got the guts for it. My sister Hinako’s studying to be a linguistics instructor and she always says all you need to be a good teacher is a high tolerance for bullshit and enough raw nerve to tell someone to fuck off without stammering.”

To Hizashi’s surprise and delight Aizawa let out a sharp bark of laughter at that, clapping his hand over his mouth to muffle it a split second later. Hizashi beamed, a swell of pride growing in his chest at getting Aizawa to break character, even momentarily. “I thought you said your sister’s name was Haruko,” Aizawa said, clearing his throat around another laugh.

“Other sister,” Hizashi clarified. “Haru and Hinako are the older twins, they graduated two years ago. My brother Hiro and my sibling Hoshi are the younger twins, they’ll be ten in August.”

Aizawa stared at him, dumbfounded. “You have four siblings?” he asked with the kind of wonder-filled shock that picked him out instantly as an only child. Hizashi grinned.

“Yep,” Hizashi said, nodding. “Middle child of five, and the only single birth on either side of the family for, like, two or three generations back. Haru swears I ate my twin in the womb so I wouldn’t have to share a birthday.” About halfway through he had the too-late realization that the joke might not be funny outside of his family, but to his relief Aizawa let out a hard snort at it.

“Not a bad plan,” Aizawa said.

Hizashi shrugged. “It worked,” he said. “So what d’you think you’d teach if you did end up back here?” he added.

“Muggle Studies,” Aizawa said. The way he said it without any hesitation made Hizashi wonder if he was actually as reluctant about the idea as he claimed.

“That’s cool,” Hizashi said, nodding. “I took Muggle Studies as an elective third year but I ended up dropping it before fourth. It wasn’t terrible or anything, it was just kind of. Um.” He tried to think of a nice way to phrase the fact that he had maintained a perfect grade in the class while using it as an extra study hall.

“Boring?” Aizawa suggested flatly. Hizashi flushed.

“I wasn’t going to say that,” he hedged. Aizawa sighed, shaking his head.

“No, I’ve taken three years of it, I know it is,” he said. “The curriculum might be Ministry approved, but that doesn’t save it from being complete garbage. No matter who the teacher is it’s always some Pureblood, and they just stand at the front of the class acting like it’s some incredible miracle that Muggles managed to invent solutions to problems without magic to help them.”

Hizashi nodded; that sounded about right from the hazy half-forgotten memories he could dredge up.

“If they had any sense, they’d have someone who knows what they’re talking about teaching and it would be part of the core classes in first and second year. Then it would actually make sense to let you decide if you want to stick with it as an elective,” Aizawa went on. “That way the kids who don’t know anything about non-magic technology will learn alternatives for when they run into something magic can’t fix. The way it is now just ties everyone down to a single way of thinking with no alternatives until after they’re used to relying on magic for everything anyway. It’s completely illogical.” He grew more animated as he spoke, eyes bright and spots of enthusiastic color rising in his cheeks. This was the most Hizashi had ever heard Aizawa say at one time and he was enraptured by the sudden force in Aizawa’s voice. To his disappointment Aizawa seemed to realize he was getting riled up and deflated slightly, sinking back into his usual neutral holding pattern.

“But that’s just the Muggleborn in me, I guess,” he muttered.

“Nah, your plan sounds way better to me,” Hizashi said encouragingly, trying to pep him back up. “If I was gonna send my kids here, I’d be way more likely to suggest they take your class than if it stays like it is now.”

Some of the glow seemed to come back behind Aizawa’s eyes and the corner of his mouth twitched up into almost a smile. “Noted.”

Their conversation hit a short lull as they finished lunch and headed back outside to the main street, but the silence felt less disquieting now that the ice had broken. Hizashi was used to being around constant noise, growing up in a family of extroverts and living in a House where half the residents were in a constant duel of one-upsmanship with the other half. Being around Aizawa, though, was like hanging out with the human form of a comfortable silence. Bits of short conversation passed between them as they ambled, happening and ending in a breezy ebb and flow.

Aizawa stopped in at the used bookstore to trade the book he’d been reading--or rather, re-reading for the third time, as he told Hizashi--for the next in the series, which was even thicker and more battered than the last. At some curious prodding from Hizashi, Aizawa began to give a synopsis of the books up to the current volume. His energy from before returned, but in a lighter tone bordering on excitability as he explained the truly surreal level of bad luck that seemed to be constantly befalling Simon Snow and his friends. Aizawa talked like someone who held his words in as long as he could when he didn’t think it was appropriate to use them, but couldn’t help the way they spilled out when given the chance. Reserved, Hizashi thought. Not so much the taciturn, easily bored loner his reputation presupposed, just more comfortable keeping to himself when he wasn’t sure the other person was actually interested. Hizashi counted himself as fully interested despite having only a vague idea of what Aizawa was talking about. He was more than content to just walk slow circuits of Hogsmeade next to Aizawa as he monologued, sharing a bag of black licorice from Honeydukes that Hizashi had bought and offered without thinking and Aizawa (to Hizashi’s private delight) had accepted without hesitation.

The two of them perched on the fence around the Shrieking Shack, giving their feet a rest as Aizawa went on a fascinating tangent about the books’ author getting investigated on suspicion of illegal experimentation because their fictional magic system was too water-tight. Aizawa fell silent mid-sentence, blinking in surprise, and rubbed at something on his nose.

“What--” Hizashi started, but his question was answered as three large raindrops plopped down onto his face as well. “Well, crap,” he added, squinting up into the murky grey sky and getting rewarded with another drop on his forehead.

In unison the two of them hopped down off the fence and began to quickly walk back down the lane towards the row of shops. The rain picked up its pace with them, turning from a sprinkling to a drizzle to a full-bore downpour as they rushed back. Hizashi pulled his jacket up, doing his best to keep it over their heads as they scampered for shelter. A distant growl of thunder followed them as they darted past the flat front of the post office building to the sanctuary of the bookshop’s awning.

“Perfect time for the sky to open, huh?” Hizashi laughed, using the display window to try to slick his soaked hair back into a decent style. When Aizawa didn’t reply, Hizashi paused to look over at him. Aizawa wasn’t under the awning anymore; glancing around the corner into the alley between buildings Hizashi saw him crouched down prodding at something next to a trash bin. Hizashi deployed his makeshift umbrella again and hurried over to see what had caught Aizawa’s attention. Drawing level with him, Hizashi saw that Aizawa was pulling at the melting top flaps of a cardboard box, trying to keep them open as they collapsed inwards. The word “free” was just barely visible scrawled in marker on the front of the box and peering inside Hizashi could see the small trembling body of a kitten. It was hard to tell what color the poor thing was under the dirt and bits of cardboard that had fallen in and stuck to its fur. The kitten made struggling attempts to paw at Aizawa’s hand, giving off long pennywhistle yowls at the top of its voice.

“I think it’s stuck on something, but I can’t get to it,” Aizawa said over his shoulder.

Hizashi squatted down next to him to get a better look. Sure enough, he could see where the rubber band serving as the kitten’s collar had tangled in a stray thread from the tea towel that had been stuffed into the box to serve as a bed. The towel was fully soaked and melded with the bottom of the box, becoming a sodden weight around the kitten’s neck. As Aizawa reached in to help, the collapsing box and having to use his off hand made him awkward and clumsy and the kitten kept dodging away from the perceived attack from above.

“Let me try,” Hizashi said. He shrugged off his jacket and balanced it on both of their heads to free up his hands. “Easy there, tiny,” he added to the kitten in as soothing a voice as he could, slowly reaching into the box. The kitten squawked and squirmed at the indignity of being gently scruffed in one hand while Hizashi tugged the rubber band from around its neck with the other. “There. Not so bad, was it?” Hizashi asked, doing what he could to wipe some of the cardboard flecks off of its head. The kitten peeped irritably and gave a hard full-body shiver. “Let’s get somewhere drier,” Hizashi suggested.

Aizawa noded. He unzipped his sweatshirt and bundled the kitten into the pocket of fabric caused by his immobilized arm, then zipped it up again most of the way. The two of them--three now technically--made back under the bookstore’s awning just as a new wave of rain came down. Hizashi shivered as a stream of cold water ran out of his hair and down the back of his neck.

“Looks like that’s it on today,” he said, watching as the last few stragglers other than themselves fled the street for somewhere dry.

“Guess so,” Aizawa agreed. He had opened his jacket just a little again and was letting the kitten attack his finger, gnawing at his knuckle with the two stubby baby teeth it had. He gave a quiet, delighted chuckle, pulling his finger away to scratch under its chin. It was the first time Hizashi had ever seen him look truly relaxed, no hint of his usual stiff practicality as he looked down at the ball of fluff tucked into his elbow. Hizashi couldn’t help the warm glow that spread through him at seeing such a gentle smile on Aizawa’s face. Aizawa had to quickly muffle a sneeze in his shoulder as water dripped from his hair onto his nose. He tried to shake his hair back but only succeeded in sticking more strands to his cheeks in the process.

“Here,” Hizashi said, reaching out a hand to smooth Aizawa’s hair back behind his ears. Aizawa looked over at him with the same easy, soft smile still on his face.

“Thanks,” he said. Hizashi was too caught off guard and suddenly tongue-tied to reply. Instead, half on instinct and half on impulse Hizashi leaned in and kissed him.

It was brief and a little awkward from the inopportune angle he had to take to avoid leaning on Aizawa’s injured arm and the kitten, but for the moment it happened it was glorious. Hizashi pulled back, heart hammering at his own nerve. Aizawa had gone stock-still, his eyes owlishly wide and his face blank as he stared at Hizashi. He blinked once, hard, as if he was trying to process what had just happened. Then a dark flush spread through his face and his head snapped down to stare at his shoes. A cold, guilty weight dropped into the pit of Hizashi’s stomach. His mouth worked open and shut around words of apology or explanation or both that didn’t want to form. Hizashi forced his jaw shut, clearing his throat around the knot trying to form and looking back out into the rain.

“We should probably get back to the castle. It doesn’t look like it’s going to let up any time soon,” Aizawa muttered, not taking his eyes off of his sneakers.

“Y-Yeah, probably. I, uh, I think I saw them selling umbrellas inside, I’ll go check. Be right back,” Hizashi jabbered on.

He ducked past Aizawa and into the bookstore. Aizawa’s red-faced non-reaction was not at all what he’d been hoping for. In the golden high of the moment Hizashi had thought it was kind of sweeping and spontaneous, if not outright romantic, but now common sense was setting in on him with a vengeance. He grimaced, grabbing the first novelty pocket umbrella he saw on the store’s display rack and taking it up to the front to pay. He was an utter idiot, of course something like that was going too fast. They might have clicked for the most part during the day but that didn’t mean he could go around smashing his face against Aizawa’s willy-nilly. Nemuri’s assurance that Aizawa did in fact want to “smooch his face” came floating back but Hizashi shook it away. In a general sense maybe, but not now out of nowhere with no provocation. Hizashi tried to console himself that Aizawa didn’t seem to be angry with him at least, but even that fell flat. With how good the other boy was at hiding his feelings he could have been angry to the boiling point right now and Hizashi would never be able to tell. He’d have to apologize, sincerely and quickly, that was all there was to it. As soon as they got a free minute back at the castle without distractions or onlookers Hizashi would explain and apologize and hope he hadn’t utterly ruined any chance he had at least staying friends.

Aizawa hadn’t decided to leave without him, which felt encouraging; he also didn’t make eye contact as Hizashi opened the umbrella over their heads and they started walking, which felt less so. As they approached the school gates, Aizawa zipped his jacket up all the way under his chin and rested his free arm on top of the arm in the sling, his hand on the kitten’s back to keep it still and quiet. He looked calm and assured, eyes trained forward and face neutral as they passed the teachers monitoring the groups scuttling in out of the rain. No one batted an eye at them the whole way inside and down the stairs towards the dungeons.

“Smooth,” Hizashi commented under his breath. The corner of Aizawa’s mouth quirked up just slightly.

“Not my first time,” he replied in an undertone.

He led the way to one of the lower-level bathrooms and locked the door behind the two of them after confirming they were in there alone. “Can you run some water?” Aizawa asked, pointing at the row of sinks with his elbow as he scooped the shivering kitten out of its hiding place. “Just warm, not hot. There should be spare towels in the cupboard, they usually don’t run out until later in the week.”

Hizashi did as he asked, running a shallow bath of water and gently setting the kitten down into it. Aizawa hovered at his elbow, giving instructions on how to test the temperature so that it wouldn’t be too much for the kitten to handle and how to scrub the grime away from its fur without getting soap near its eyes or ears. Slowly but surely a small white tom kitten with a thick stripe of tabby orange down its back emerged from under all of the muck. Washed and dried and swaddled in a fresh hand towel, the kitten’s eyes blinked sleepily shut as Aizawa held him cradled in his elbow again.

“What’s his name gonna be?” Hizashi asked. He reached out and ruffled the tuft of fur between the kitten’s ears with the tip of one finger as he began to snore. Aizawa frowned, shaking his head.

“He’s not mine. I couldn’t leave him out there, but I don’t think my Housemates would appreciate it if I took in another stray,” Aizawa said grudgingly.

“No room for a common room cat?”

“We have three already,” Aizawa said sheepishly. “Well, two. Mikey was mine to start with.”

Hizashi grinned in spite of himself, remembering Aizawa’s comment about this not being his first smuggling operation. “If he was a little bigger we could probably just let him loose to be a mouser, but right now I’m pretty sure the mice would win,” he said.

“Whoever does take him will have to coddle him for a while,” Aizawa said. “He’s not actually old enough to be on his own, no matter what the scumbag who abandoned him thinks.”

That sparked an idea in Hizashi that made his grin grow even wider. “I think I have just the person,” he said. “Follow me.”

“Oh Nem-my,” Hizashi said in a singsong voice, leaning down over the back of the sofa Nemuri was stretched out on. Nemuri looked up from the book she’d been reading, seeming surprised to see him.

“Back already?” she asked. “I assumed you’d still be off somewhere sucking face with Aiza--”

“It started raining so we came back early,” Hizashi said quickly, trying to drown her out as his ears burned. “Not the point. I brought you a present.” He reached down and booped her on the nose.

Nemuri looked dubiously up at him. “If it’s another half-finished bag of licorice, I’m locking you out of the dorms for a week,” she replied sweetly, booping him back.

“That was one time. And joke’s on you anyway, I’ve found someone with taste,” Hizashi said. He nodded towards Aizawa. Nemuri sat up to see where he was looking. She nodded hello to Aizawa, then looked back over at Hizashi.

“Mind telling me why there’s a Hufflepuff in my common room?” she asked.

“Because, I brought you a present,” Hizashi repeated. “Close your eyes and hold out your hands.”

A look of deep skepticism crossed her face, but Nemuri did as he asked. Hizashi took the towel-wrapped kitten from Aizawa and placed it in Nemuri’s hands, guiding her arms to her chest to make sure she was supporting the little bundle.

“All right, open them!”

Nemuri squinted open one eye, grimacing like she was bracing for impact. Her whole face lit up as she saw what had been put in her arms. “Look at you!” she said breathlessly, cradling the kitten. The kitten squeaked up at her as the sound of her voice jostled him out of his nap.

“Aizawa found him caught in the rain while we were out,” Hizashi explained. “Aizawa’s full up on cats and Ai-chan’s enough for me, but I thought since you had to leave Oni home this year you might want to look after the little guy.”

Nemuri tried to put on a begrudging, put-upon expression, but her obvious adoration leaked through around the edges. “I mean, if there’s no one else I might as well,” she said in a faux-haughty voice. “Can’t leave him on his own, can we?” Her sentence trailed off into a sweet baby-talk tone as she directed it more towards the kitten.

“He’s still too young for solid food. You’ll need to feed him soft food and bottles until his teeth come in,” Aizawa said. He pulled out the top drawer of a nearby side table and ran his wand around the edge of it, muttering a spell under his breath. He reached into the shallow drawer up to his elbow, retrieving a few small baby bottles and a canister of powdered kitten formula. He sat down next to Nemuri on the couch and talked her through all of the steps to prepare bottles and how to support the kitten while he ate. Again the cool detachment melted away as Aizawa spoke and his more passionate side peeked out. He explained everything in simple, direct instructions with the kind of calm competency and depth of knowledge that made Hizashi wonder how Aizawa could ever doubt he was meant to teach. Even Hizashi’s haughty black cat Ai-chan seemed impressed with him; she hopped up into Aizawa’s lap as he was speaking and forewent her usual first impression greeting of a sharp nip on the hand, content to accept a lengthy backscratch from him instead.

“If you have time between classes to come check on him while he settles in, it would be best,” Aizawa finished up.

“Right,” Nemuri said, nodding. “A baby’s a baby, even if it’s got four feet and a fur coat.” She smiled down at the kitten as he finished his meal and flopped down onto his full belly with a yawn.

“So, what’re you gonna call him, Nems?” Hizashi asked, relieved his plan had worked.

“Sushi,” Nemuri said instantly.

Hizashi laughed. “Big bro Onigiri will be thrilled,” he teased.

“He’ll adore him,” Nemuri agreed primly. “Now go take your Hufflepuff somewhere else so we can take a nap in peace,” she added, making a shooing motion towards the door.

“Rude. I give you a kitten and all you give me is lip.”

“Don’t make me call a hall meeting about fraternization, Hizashi Yamada.”

“Fine, fine,” Hizashi said, holding his hands up peacefully. “Sheesh. You give someone a Prefect badge and suddenly they own the place,” he added in a loud mutter, rolling his eyes dramatically.

“What was that? You’ll have to speak up, my Plebeian is rusty,” Nemuri said in a lofty voice.

“Don’t worry about it, Nems, have a good nap,” Hizashi said. “C’mon, I’ll walk you out,” he added to Aizawa, nodding towards the door.

“Nice meeting you,” Nemuri said to Aizawa as he got up to leave.

“Er. You too,” Aizawa returned with a nod.

Nemuri popped her head up over the back of the couch as Hizashi held the door open for Aizawa. She grinned at him, waggling her eyebrows meaningfully. Hizashi gave her a short, tight smile in return and flashed a weak thumbs-up before he followed Aizawa out. The common room door shut with a snap behind him, sounding louder than it needed to in the empty hall. The two of them hovered awkwardly, the last buffer between what had happened before and where they should go from here now safely tucked away behind them.

“She seems nice,” Aizawa said finally.

Hizashi gave a weak chuckle. “Nemuri can be kind of extra, but she’s cool,” he assured him. “She was pretty gutted when she had to leave her cat at home this year but he’s about ten billion years old, so she couldn’t really help it. I think she’ll be a good cat mom for that little guy.”

“Yeah, I think so too,” Aizawa said.

A second silence stretched on longer than the first, as if they were both waiting for the other one to take the next step. Aizawa cleared his throat and seemed to be about to excuse himself. Hizashi forced himself to speak before Aizawa left.

“H-Hey, um. About before,” he blurted out. Aizawa hesitated, his expression guarded. “When...When I kissed you. I just wanted to say I’m sorry?” Hizashi said, hating the way his voice cracked upward at the end. “It’s just. Today’s been so great and I’d never seen you look so happy like that before and I guess I kind of...got ahead of myself. Not that that’s an excuse or anything!” he interrupted himself quickly, wishing he could just shut up and say what he meant for once. He took a deep breath, raking a hand through his hair, and tried to rally his thoughts. “What I’m trying to say is I really, really like you and today has been totally amazing, and I’m sorry if I made you uncomfortable and screwed all of that up.” Hizashi gritted his teeth, bracing for what would come next.

To his surprise, instead of agreeing that the kiss had been uncalled for and requesting that Hizashi keep his distance going forward, Aizawa just looked quietly confused. “I-- That’s not it at all,” he said.

Hizashi felt the heavy lump in his chest break apart into a flock of hopeful butterflies. “N-No?” he sputtered, not sure what else to say.

“No. I really like you too,” Aizawa said, sounding a little breathless with the effort of making himself say it out loud. “And today has been great. Earlier, I just. A lot was happening all at once, and then you seemed kind of embarrassed about it so I didn’t want to make it worse by bringing it up. But I didn’t not like it. It was a nice surprise.” The soft smile was back, accompanied by a quiet self-deprecating chuckle as Aizawa reflexively ducked his head and rubbed the side of his neck.

Hizashi’s face was on fire and his chest was so full of fluttering thrills of energy he felt like he might start floating away at any second. “Oh. Cool!” he said, mouth running off into the distance and leaving his brain to catch up a moment later. He winced hard, wanting very much to disappear into the bricks of the corridor wall and never be seen again, but the snorty chuckle Aizawa let out pulled him back. Aizawa hesitated a moment, then braced his hand on Hizashi’s shoulder as he leaned in and kissed him.

A million panicky thoughts about what to do with his hands, nose, face, everything flashed through Hizashi’s head in a split second before being wiped out of existence by the singular thought that Shouta Aizawa was kissing him, and it was awesome. Both of them lingered in the kiss, no one around to interrupt and neither wanting to be the first to pull away. Finally Aizawa leaned back, a full-blown cheshire cat grin on his face.

“Cool,” he agreed. He bit his lip, then said, “My common room is probably going to stay pretty empty until later, even with the weather. We could go sit by the fire and talk some more, if you wanted?” He said it like there would be any question in Hizashi’s mind that today should keep going as long as possible.

“Yeah! I mean, if you’re sure that’s okay?” Hizashi asked, thinking of all of the rumors he’d heard about the intense security around the Hufflepuff dorms.

Aizawa shrugged. “Fair’s fair, right? If Kayama’s going to lecture us about fraternizing we might as well deserve it.”

Hizashi barked out a laugh. “You got me there,” he agreed. He held out a hand, gesturing for Aizawa to lead the way. Instead, Aizawa reached up and took it, lacing their fingers together as they started off down the corridor. Hizashi thought he might very well have a heart attack before he ever got a chance to cross the Hufflepuff threshold but right now it seemed more than worth the attempt.

[prplzorua]

Because I Can: Chapter 4

Art, Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 (here)

----

The Dream:

AN//: Fluff on this fine Sunday? Yes. Yes indeed.

-----

He was warm.

Very warm and very comfortable.

He could sleep here forever...

He wasn't supposed to be asleep though, right?

Was he supposed to be doing something?

Work! He had work to do...

Did he?

But...he was so warm and comfortable.

It wouldn't hurt to just sleep for a little while longer...would it?

Yeah, that sounded like a good idea...

He'd sleep...just...for a little while...

"Hey!"

"...y!... Are you listening?!"

"... wake up!"

He shot up ramrod straight, heart pounding.

"Woah! Easy there Virgil! Didn't mean to scare ya but you fell asleep- and Prof Quill is coming-"

Virgil blinked...

Just like that the torrent of classroom noise assaulted his previously sleep deaf brain.

He blinked again dumbly; this time rubbing his eyes in an attempt to return somewhat to wakefulness.

Looking to the warmth of Sky Blue he was pressed against- no the person he was leaning against; and by the damp spot on the Other's shoulder- the one who he was drooling on.

Virgil wiped his mouth with the back of his hand

"Srry Pat...I-", he yawns, " I was busy dealing with the lights, the Set, the costumes and the props, all last night and today I had to deal with the Actors-"

"Yikes, that sounds like a lot of work for one person to be doing-"

"I know!" He runs a hand down his face as he sighs, exhausted. "But I'm the head Techie and the last one standing my entire stage crew came down with the Flu because Rico couldn't bear to miss rehearsals even when Joan sent him home"

"Joan's the Director right?"

"Yeah. Them and their Date-mate Talyn- wait you met Talyn right?"

"...Uh short, looks adorable but could probably kill me with a pen?"

"Yep that's them. They're responsible for makeup and costume design; they also help Joan with scripts-", Virgil cuts himself off with a yawn, "they were up with me finalizing everything for tomorrow"

"Oh yeah! The Play is tomorrow, I wouldn't miss it for the world! But will you guys manage? How many actors are sick?"

"None of the Actors are sick, well not anymore at least, it's literally everyone else, even Joan's sick"

"Oh noo!-"

"Yeah, but the show must go on y'know?" He shrugs, rubbing his eyes, unaware that he was starting to slump back onto his desk partner's shoulder. "I just need to survive tomorrow and I can get more than eight consecutive minutes of sleep for the week"

"Kiddo no! After class, you're eating lunch and taking a nap mister!"

Virgil laughs softly at his friend's mothering. "Sure thing Pat, but I don't think I can stay awake for lunch...but I can probably eat a sandwich or something in Ms. Audrey's English class, she's chill-"

"Hmm, ok...we can go sit by that big shady tree across from the water fountain. You can take a nap there!"

"I guess, I mean I kinda don't want people to be staring at me when I'm asleep... but I mean it's college, so no one cares right?"

The other shrugs, " so..?"

"Yeah, ok, sounds like a plan"

....

"Hey!"

"...You need to wake up!"

"....come on!...Wake up!"

Virgil shot up, eyes wide and wholly disoriented.

"Easy V! You're so jumpy you silly goose!"

"...mnh?"

"You're alarm went off five minutes ago bud, you gotta get to class.

"...oh..."

"You didn't have time to buy a sandwich so I saved half of mine for you! And no buts! I'm heading home so I can make some noodles when I get there- take it ok?"

Virgil nodded, dumbstruck by his friend's kindness.

"Thanks Pat"

....

"Hey! You need to get up!"

"...You'll be late... come on sleepy head!"

"....Wake up! ....the play is in an hour!...get up!"

-----

Roman opened his eyes slowly.

The sunlight streaming through the leaves only made him squint into awareness faster.

He wanted to stretch but found one of his hands trapped-

He looked down and blushed...

His Shadow was curled up and clinging to his chest- effectively pinning his left arm as his did so- sound asleep and peaceful. The Deer was right next to him; in a cute little curled up ball of its own.

Roman smiled, what a wonderful sight to wake up to.

Gently, he ran his free hand through the Shadow's hair, it was so soft!

There was a sound.

Roman's brows furrowed, he tilted his head left; right; left... but he couldn't hear it anymore.

Dismissing it as his imagination, considering he didn't sense any danger - and neither did the Deer for that matter- he resumed his ministrations.

There it was again!

A soft sort of echoey sound- like rolling thunder at a distance.

It stopped.

Roman frowned. "..hmm.."

It was back agai-

The Shadow?!

Roman blinked. The sound was coming from his Shadow- was...was he purring?

Indeed he was! As Roman carded his hand through the Other's hair and softly trailed his nails up and down his back; the sound only grew louder and the Shadow seemed to melt further into his hold.

Roman bit back a chuckle, who knew his Shadow could be so cute?

----

Eventually Roman managed to wriggle his arm free from his adorably clingy captive. His Shadow had fussed and stirred but did not wake, instead he clung tighter to Roman, sleepily snuffling his chest until Roman himself soothed him back to calm by playing with his hair again.

Seeing as his Shadow didn't seem ready to wake up any time soon, Roman resigned to his fate as being a Pillow. Not that he minded, this was the closest he had ever been to his mysterious Shadow; seeing him like this was surreal.

"AHHP!"

Roman looked to the right to see the Deer now awake.

"Well Good morning to you to my little forest fawn friend! Did you sleep well?"

The Deer came up to him and gave him a gentle lick on his cheek.

Roman chuckles, " I guess that answers my question!"

"...ngh..."

Roman froze, looking down at the Shadow; his brows were pinched and he was frowning.

Roman attempted to soothe the Shadow like he had done before but still the frown remained.

"Should I wake him?...Is he awake?" He whispered to the Deer.

The young creature stared at him, before tentatively sniffing the stirring Shadow and then licking his cheek.

The Other's face squinged, eyes fluttering.

"...mnh?...noo... fve mre minz Pat... 'm tired..."

With that he buried his face back onto Roman's chest; breath even and slowed.

"AHP!"

Roman snorted at the Deer, "Yeah, I guess not"

----

AN//: Shut up I'm soft ok? Blame my Best friend, I miss him and we'll actually get to hang out Wednesday! His class is coming to my school for a seminar; what are the odds, huh?! Anyway that's all for today, enjoy the Prinxiety cuddles...for now ;)

See y'all in the comment section!

------

Tagging some peeps: @sugarglider9603​  @broadwaytheanimatedseries​ @hi-i-love-u-bitch​ @randomslasher​ @thuriweaver​ @davidthetraveler​  @storytellerofuntoldlegends​ @princeanxious​ @princelogical​ @princeyandanxiety​ @prinxiety-logicalitysanderssides​ @prinxietyhell​ @anxietyandlogic​ @ana-logical​ @altruistic-skittles​ @lrnightingale @logicallysanders​ @k9cat​ @megaitcouldbeworse-help​ @trashsinsunrelenting​ @sympathetic-deceit-trash @joygaytrash​ @tinysidestrashcaptain​ @vigilantvirgil​ @virgilsanders​ @virgilnotvirgin​ @parano--vigilant​–vigilant–vigilant @insanelycoolish​ @fangirltothefullest​ @romanssippycup​ @romanasanders​ @what-even-is-thiss​ @notafeeling​ @not-so-innocent-bi-sander​ @notalwaysthevillian​ @notallpotatoesarefrenchfries​ @nyxwordsmithwrites​ @nyxwordsmith​ @crankywhenprovoked​ @justisaisfine​ @justanotherpurplebutterfly​ @you-can-call-me-monte​ @the-prince-and-the-emo​ @under-the-b1tcheltoe​ @ironwoman359​ @organizeddiscord​ @officialwaterfairy​ @overly-analogical​ @prettyinaccurate​

[cinnaminsvga]

💎 social media au where y/n gets locked inside her local gym and accidentally calls pornstar policeman roleplayer park jimin to help her out 💎

A/N: The next few parts will be mostly written in prose. Anyway... today is centered around Yoongi and Seungcheol, so let’s fucking get it! || W.C. 1.6K

prev // part 49 of ? // next masterlist here.

[updates every 12PM PST]

Min Yoongi sits waiting for Seungcheol on the steps outside Serendipity. His back is slouched and his hair looks like its been run through with his fingers at least a dozen times. He isn’t wearing his usual button-up shirt and black slacks, and Seungcheol has to stop and let himself take in his young professor in nothing more than a plain t-shirt and ripped skinny jeans. Something in his stomach––something that Seungcheol had thought was dead for months, resurfaces and flutters about. He swallows hard, and walks towards the brooding man.

“Professor.” Seungcheol keeps his voice low, almost afraid to startle him. Yoongi looks up from the ground slowly, eyes squinting at Seungcheol as if he was the sun whom he hadn’t seen in years. It takes a while for his eyes to adjust, and the younger waits as he blinks blearily back at him.

“Cheol.” His voice is hoarse, as if he had spent another twelve hours in the recording studio, screaming about the demons the always seemed to haunt him. Seungcheol wouldn’t be entirely surprised if he had. He scoots over and pats the small space beside him, and Seungcheol has to take a deep breath before placing himself beside his professor. From this close, he can smell the faint smell of alcohol and something that is just entirely Yoongi. The wings in his stomach tremble about.

“What are we doing here, Prof?”

Yoongi doesn’t answer for a while. He looks up behind him, and the two of them stare at the worn wooden sign spelling Serendipity on the front of the shop. Yoongi remembers the day Seokjin had bought the property, remembers telling him that the red paint clashed with the neon green lettering, but the eccentric man had brushed him off. Over the years, the neon green had washed off to look more like a muted green.

Kinda like me, Yoongi chuckles to himself, and Seungcheol only gazes at him in confusion. Yoongi doesn’t offer an explanation. Instead, he says “Have you ever wondered why all the bad shit almost always seems to start in this damned cafe?”

Seungcheol bites his lip, still watching his tired professor with hesitation. This conversation doesn’t seem like it’s going to be about school things, after all. “Not in particularly,” he says finally, fiddling his thumbs together. From the corner of his eye, he can see Yoongi watching the movement, and Seungcheol feels inclined to quicken his pace for whatever reason. “I think most of the shit that’s been going on recently all happened because we’re surrounded by the wrong people.”

Seungcheol only belatedly realizes what he said, and he’s about to splutter out an apology when Min Yoongi surprises him again by letting out a loud laugh. He’s never quite heard Yoongi laugh like this, with his head tilted back and gums on full display. He watches slack-jawed as his normally taciturn professor’s laughter dies down, tears of mirth lining his eyes. Yoongi shakes his head, a smile still present on his lips.

“Damn. You really got me there. You are absolutely, one-hundred percent correct, my young padawan.” He rubs Seungcheol’s shoulders amiably, and the younger can’t help but stiffen at the contact. Everything about this meeting was… weird. He couldn’t quite place what was wrong, so all he could do was wait until Yoongi finally decided to spit out what was going on inside his head.

He doesn’t have to wait long. “Cheol, tell me about Y/N,” he says suddenly, gaze turned to the empty street in front of them. Seungcheol takes this opportunity to memorize the lines on Yoongi’s face, the way his forehead was scrunched up and the purple hue underneath his eyelids was darker than it had been in weeks. As terrible as it was to admit, Yoongi looked old. Worn, tired, and in need of rest.

Seungcheol tries not to show his surprise. “What about her?”

Yoongi shrugs, waving his hand vaguely as he tries to find the proper words to ask. “I guess… I wanted to ask about your thoughts on her. She’s quite the special lady to you, is she not?”

Red petals bloom prettily across Seungcheol’s skin, and he coughs into his hand to hide himself from him. Yoongi peers at him from the side, a wistful smile peeking itself onto his own face. “Sorry, was that too direct?”

“No, no, it’s fine,” Seungcheol chokes out, thumping his own chest to try and calm his racing heart. It doesn’t work. “Just… It’s a bit sudden, that’s all. Why do you want to know?”

Yoongi shrugs again, except this time his shoulders seem to slouch deeper into his body, as if he was bracing himself from the cold. “Just… I wanted to know if what I’m doing is the right thing.”

“The right thing?” Seungcheol repeats, brows scrunched. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t pretend, Cheol. We both know about the rumors surrounding me and her. How I… seemed preoccupied by her presence,” he says, grinning despite himself. “Wow. That was such a shitty way of putting it. Anyway, you get what I mean.”

Seungcheol squirms uncomfortably in his seat, hands turning clammy at this sudden interrogation. Was Yoongi literally here to stake his claim on you? “I… I guess so. But yes, to answer your question, I do have a thing for Y/N. I’ve made it clear to her for a while now, and she rejected me once before.” Seungcheol chuckles darkly, shaking his head in defeat. “What a weak man I am… Like a moth unable to stay away from a flame… Yet, I find myself purging myself in her fire.”

Suengcheol isn’t quite sure what he expected Yoongi to do at his confession. Maybe he’d scream at him, telling him that he never deserved Y/N anyway and that it was great that he’d been rejected. Maybe he’d laugh at him, basking in the glory of knowing that he had thought he had a chance with you anyway. There were a number of ways for Yoongi to react, and Seungcheol was ready to brace himself for any of them.

He definitely hadn’t been ready for a hug.

“Prof?” Seungcheol gasps, feeling his professor’s thin arms wrapping him in a tight hug. He keeps his own arms by his sides, too awkward and too confused to do anything but gape at the elder. When Yoongi pulls away, there is a sad smile on his face, and he shakes his head in disbelief.

“Wow. We really both got rejected by the same girl, huh?”

Seungcheol freezes, staring incredulously at the other. “You confessed to her too?”

Yoongi nods his head, that devilish smirk still on his face. His cat-like eyes twinkle in the afternoon light, still as bright and alluring as when Seungcheol first met him. “I asked her last night. After the meeting, I brought her to my house to lay my feelings on the table. I got myself a bit drunk too, just so I could have the courage to say the things I wanted to say, but then she got herself a little too drunk too. In the end, I didn’t feel like it was right to tell her my feelings while she wasn’t herself.”

“But wait, you said she rejected you. You hadn’t even told her, though.”

The elder shakes his head, and finally the smirk drops. He wrings his pale hands, picking at the cuticles. Seungcheol notices that his knuckles are red and bloodied, and he is about to start fussing over him and run to grab some band-aids when Yoongi places that same bloodied hand over his. The wings in his stomach escalate to a crescendo.

“I didn’t have to ask. She already told me before I could even let the words escape my mouth,” he whispers, eyes downcast as he stares at his entwined hands. Seungcheol squeezes imperceptibly, but Yoongi still notices. He whips his gaze onto him, piercing through his skin. Seungcheol feels the butterflies reach his throat.

“She said many things, that night. The alcohol had loosened her tongue, but she only spoke about one man the entire night. Even if I had tried to stop her, she would switch the conversation back to him. It was no use.” HIs voice is low, as if he was sharing a secret with him. For whatever reason, his head is tilted closer to Seungcheol, and he has to suppress a gasp when the elder’s nose almost touches his own. It’s like being locked in a trance––a predator keeping his prey at bay as he slowly inches his way to him until––

Yoongi drops his head, nuzzling his face into his neck. Seungcheol lets out a winded gasp, almost as if he had the breath knocked right out of him. He tries to remove himself from his professor’s grasp, but his hold is stronger than it seems. In the end, Seungcheol doesn’t want to let go either.

“Professor?” He murmurs, placing a hesitant hand on his back. His other hand is still clasped around the professor’s. “Are you okay? Are you still drunk?”

Yoongi takes a staggering breath. Then, “No. I’m not, Cheol. I’m really not.”

Behind them, the coffee shop bustles on like normal. The college student working the cashier that day doesn’t bat an eye at the odd couple sitting outside the café’s steps, and he doesn’t think to report it to Seokjin.

For once in their lives, they can have their peace––even if it’s not for long.

Even with his tired, worn professor in his arms, Seungcheol can’t help his curiosity from escaping his tongue. “Who was the man Y/N was speaking about last night?”

Just as Yoongi was about to answer, a phone rings.

[huphilpuffs]

between the lines

summary: Dan’s failing his English class, so Phil is enlisted to tutor him. University AU. word count: 3350 rating: g warnings: none a/n: Written for @phanfictionhoe for @phandomficfests holiday exchange! I hope you like it! And big thanks to @insectbah for beta’ing.

ao3 link

“Hey Dan?”

He looks up, hands hovering halfway to his backpack. The only good part about English class so far is that he doesn’t have a textbook to carry around with him.

“Yes, sir?”

His tutor smiles, kind.

All the staff here seem too kind. Dan kind of wishes they were scary. That would make it easier to hate them.

“Do you have a class now?”

Dan swallows. “No, sir.”

“Can we talk for a moment, then?”

He lifts his hands from his bag. Walking into his tutorial today had already been dreadful. The heavy feeling he’d been carrying in his chest since a few days ago comes back. He settles back into his seat, listening to every other student leave the room with rustling papers and loud footsteps.

The doors at the uni are too heavy. They always fall closed with a loud thud.

His tutor comes towards him only after the last student’s left. Nathan, he told them to call him during the first tutorial. Calling people with actual PhDs by their first name still feels foreign on Dan’s tongue, though.

He sits down across from Dan, still smiling.

“I’m sure you saw your grade on the first essay,” he says.

Dan swallows. The pressure in his chest is worse. “Uh, yeah.”

Nathan nods. “As you know, a 36% is a failing grade.”

“I know,” says Dan. “Am I–”

He cuts himself off. Asking if he’s in trouble sounds stupid. He’s supposed to be an adult now.

Supposedly.

Nathan shakes his head. “No, you’re okay. There’ll be opportunities to bring your grade up,” he says. “Actually, the professor is working with the university to help students who are struggling. We’re trying to match students up with student tutors. Are you interested?”

He isn’t, not really. But Dan nods anyway.

Nathan smiles, again. “Okay. I’ll email you once I know the details, okay?”

Dan just nods dumbly, slumped back in his seat.

“You’re free to go,” says Nathan.

“Oh,” says Dan. He stumbles to his feet, slings his backpack over his shoulder, and rushes out the door.

He has almost an hour left before his metaphysics lecture.

And he really needs coffee.

---

He gets the email with the details on a Tuesday.

A few hours later, he gets another email from a guy called Phil that’s a little less formal, a little more nerdy. It’s almost enough to put Dan at ease.

He reads it sitting in his ethics tutorial, waiting for the class to start.

Hello,

My name’s Phil and I’m going to be your tutor for ENGL10021. I’m a third year student doing English Language and Linguistics, by the way. I’ll be on campus tonight if you want to meet up. Let me know!

Phil ^.^

---

His brain feels numb when he leaves the tutorial.

Ethics is confusing. His brain is all muddled. There’s an essay coming up and the thought of it has his breaths coming quicker, tighter, a little too desperate. Dan clutches the straps of his bag and rushes down the stairs, almost stumbling over his own feet.

He needs more coffee.

Not that it fixes anything.

Dan ends up at Starbucks, one near campus that’s always too full. Someone pulls the door open. Dan rushes in before it falls closed. He feels jittery. His heart’s beating too fast.

He takes two steps into the store before realizing he’s not paying attention.

“Fucking shit. ”

Dan blinks. He’s standing still, suddenly, and there’s a boy standing in front of him, staring with wide eyes. His shirt is stained, wet and sticking to his skin.

It takes Dan a moment to realize he’s drenched in the shit, too.

“Fuck,” he repeats. “Watch where you’re fucking going, why don’t you?”

“I–” says the boy. He looks almost defensive, but it fades into something softer. “Sorry, I will. You should, too, though.”

Bitterness flares, angry, in Dan’s chest, but he doesn’t argue. The boy lingers there for a moment. He has black hair, cutting across his forehead in a fringe that mirrors Dan’s, and his eyes are still just a little too wide.

“I, uh, have a lecture,” the boy blurts. His coffee — iced, thankfully — is half empty, the plastic lid hanging off the straw, but he doesn’t bother to fix it before leaving.

Dan leaves without getting coffee.

---

His leg is bouncing when he sits down at the library.

The floor, Green 2 because it’s the only social one in the main library, is full of people chatting with their friends and Dan feels stupid, sitting at a table by himself. He didn’t even have time to go back to his room to pick up his English books.

He should have gotten coffee before coming, he thinks. It’s the only thing keeping him going by this point.

“Dan?”

He jumps, swivels in his chair and–

“Fuck, please don’t say you’re Phil.”

The boy standing there offers half a smile. “Sorry to disappoint?”

Dan’s leg starts bouncing again. His chest feels too tight. He tries to remember the topics for his ethics essay to distract himself, but all that does is make his breaths come faster, his mind go a little more hazy around the edges. He doesn’t want to think about philosophy.

Uni’s making him not want to think about anything.

“Hey, you okay?” says Phil.

He forces his eyes open. Phil’s sitting across from him now, his bag on the table. There’s a coffee-coloured stain on his shirt.

Dan helped put it there.

“I can’t fail this fucking class,” he says. “You can’t let me fail.”

Phil frowns. “Why would I let you fail?”

Dan shrugs, motioning vaguely towards Phil’s chest. He’s still not breathing properly.

“Oh, this?” Phil’s smile quirks wider, happier, a little more crooked. “It’s nothing. I’ll get my mum to wash it tonight and it’ll be fine.”

He sounds so genuine that Dan manages to stop jittering for a moment.

“Now, tell me about yourself?” says Phil. “What are you studying?”

Dan manages half a smile back. “Philosophy,” he says. “Since English clearly isn’t my strong suit.”

Phil laughs, and the tightness in Dan’s chest starts to fade.

---

“Did you get a chance to meet your tutor?” asks Nathan after the next tutorial.

Dan’s hand is hovering on the doorknob. Everyone else has already left, and part of him wonders why he didn’t rush out of his seat to avoid this conversation. He turns around, smiling.

“Yes,” he says. “Thank you for arranging it.”

“Of course,” says Nathan. “Do you think he’ll be able to help you?”

His smile grows a little more genuine, then. He tries not to think of Phil telling him about the time he forgot to study for his first exam because he was too busy binge-watching Buffy for the too-manieth time. Dan had told him, in turn, about the time he forgot to study for A-levels because of Mortal Kombat.

“Yeah, I think so.”

Nathan just nods, and doesn’t say another word as Dan slips out the door.

---

“So I looked at your essay,” says Phil as he sits down at their next meeting.

He booked a room in the English department this time, one with big windows open into the hallway that make Dan want to squirm in his seat every time someone walks by. Not that it matters what the English profs think of him. He’s probably never going to come back after he’s done this course.

“And?”

Phil smiles. He drops Dan’s essay, annotated in red ink, onto the table between them and his backpack onto the floor. There’s a little Yoshi plushie hanging off the handle.

Seeing it eases just a bit of Dan’s anxiety.

“I think you overanalyze.”

“That’s what Nathan said, too,” says Dan. “I, uh, don’t really know what it means.”

Phil chuckles, but it doesn’t seem mocking. “It is kinda vague, huh?”

Dan nods. He reaches forward, grabbing the essay to read some of the notes Phil made, written in messier handwriting around Nathan’s.

“You’re a philosophy major, right?” says Phil.

He hums. “Yup.”

“That could explain it.”

“Oy!” Dan looks up. Phil’s leaning forward in his seat, grinning. “Is that a jab at my major?”

Phil lifts his hands, hitting himself in the forehead as he does, swiping his fringe away from his eyes. He laughs, and his tongue pokes out between his teeth, and something goes tight in Dan’s chest.

He tries not to think about it too much.

“Not at all,” says Phil. “Or maybe a little. I don’t know. You just seem like someone prone to overthinking things. But that’s not a bad thing.”

He seems sincere. Dan can’t bring himself to be upset about it.

His finger drifts along the edge of his essay as he looks back down.

“Fine, then tell me about this overanalyzing thing.”

---

By their fifth session, Dan knows more about Phil.

He knows about his schedule, which leaves his Tuesday afternoons free at the same time as Dan’s are and usually has them booking their meetings then. He knows he plays Mario games, like Dan does, and grew up playing something called Bubble Bobble that had Dan teasing him about being old.

Phil’s favourite type of book is horror, Dan had learned last week, after wondering if it was the type of story they were analyzing that made the class so hard.

“I couldn’t have done lit,” Phil had said. “All the character-driven plots would have driven me insane.”

Dan had bit at his lip, offered a grin. “I like them,” he’d said. “Even if I over-analyze them.”

Phil had nudged their feet together under the table, back at the library that time. “That’s why philosophy’s perfect for you,” he’d said, smiling.

He’s smiling again today, over the edge of his syntax textbook, as Dan highlights passages in a short story called The Yellow Wallpaper they were asked to read. Dan has to force himself to stare at the text instead of the way Phil’s eyes seem to shine in the too-bright light of the English Department.

Dan drops the highlighter when he’s finished reading. Phil’s textbook is already closed and resting on his lap when he looks up.

“You did well,” he says.

“You haven’t even looked over my work,” says Dan.

“I saw what you were doing.” There’s a hint of laughter in Phil’s eyes as he says it. He leans over the table, closer to Dan, and tugs the text towards him. “What’d you think of the ending?”

Dan groans, letting his body collapse onto the table. “Now you’re just asking me to overanalyze.”

Phil laughs, warm and happy, and knocks their knees together under the table. They’re sitting closer today.

That’s another thing that’s changed over the past few weeks.

“Unless you come up with a true conspiracy theory,” he says, “I really don’t think you can overanalyze this ending. It’s pretty abstract.”

“Pretty? It doesn’t even make sense.”

He glares at the story, groans, and presses his head into his elbow to ignore it, just for a moment.

Then Phil’s hand is settling on his shoulder, squeezing gently.

“You don’t have to write an essay on this one, remember?” he says. “You just have to understand it enough for a quiz.”

Dan smiles even though Phil can’t see it.

Phil’s hand stays on his shoulder until Dan lifts his head and gets back to work.

---

Their sixth meeting is back in the library.

Phil shows up with his backpack on his shoulders and two cups of coffee in his hands. He sets one, the one with Dan’s name scribbled across the side, in front of Dan, grinning.

“Do you like caramel macchiatos?”

Dan reaches for it. The cup is warm against his palm, the drink too hot when he takes a sip, but Dan smiles at the sweetness anyway. Of his drink, and, he realizes a moment after the feeling settles in his chest, of Phil, too.

“Yeah,” he says. “I like them.”

Phil’s smile only widens.

He takes the seat next to Dan, humming around a sip of his own drink as their knees brush together under the table.

“Good,” he says. “It’s getting chilly outside, you have to take care of yourself.”

Dan nods, presses his leg back against Phil’s. “You didn’t have to.”

“I wanted to,” says Phil. “Besides, I have, uh, YouTube money to spend.”

His cheeks go a little pink, and Dan knows he should be taking out his essay outline to have Phil help him look it over, but he doesn’t want to. Not when Phil’s scratching at the black ink scribbled on the side of his cup with the tip of his fingernail, staring at the tabletop. Not when his leg is still pressed against Dan’s.

“You do YouTube?”

Phil’s chuckle is quiet, almost embarrassed. “Just a bit. It doesn’t actually make me enough money for Starbucks, but it’s fun,” he says.

“I do too,” says Dan, and Phil looks up, eyes wide. “Not enough to make any money, but it’s, uh fun. Yeah.”

“That’s awesome.” Phil’s smile has spread across his whole face again. “What kind of videos do you make? Would I like them?”

“Um, how do you feel about self deprecating humour and attempts at self-analysis?”

His gaze flits over Dan’s fringe, over his hoodie. “Let me guess, you went through an emo phase, too?”

“I’m not sure if I resent or appreciate your use of the past tense,” says Dan.

Phil laughs so much his tongue sticks out between his teeth and his shoulder presses against Dan’s.

Dan has to try very hard not to let warmth bubble up in his chest again, without coffee to blame this time.

---

They meet up at Starbucks the eighth time.

Dan has another caramel macchiato in his hands, his final essay laid out across the table between them. Phil has a croissant that has his fingers a little buttery, so he smudges oil on the paper whenever he points out an error. He picks it apart and pops bites into his mouth, grinning around them as Dan marks the recommendations in red pen.

“There’s not much to correct this time,” says Phil.

He still has a little bit of food in his mouth. Dan thinks he should probably be more disgusted than he is.

“I already corrected most of it,” he says, smiling to hide the warmth he feels in his cheeks.

Phil shrugs. “Still, you’re learning how to write for English instead of Philosophy,” he says. “It’s getting easier, isn’t it?”

The corner of his mouth is quirked up, his smile crooked. Dan doesn’t realize he’s drawn a slash of red ink across the page until Phil’s eyes crinkle with a quiet giggle.

“End of the semester getting to you?”

His foot nudges Dan’s. He blames how small the two-person Starbucks tables are, wedged into a corner like this with their long legs. It doesn’t keep his chest from going warm, though. He’s grown used to that, when Phil says something nice and he feels his whole body react to it.

“A bit,” says Dan. “It’s not even done yet. We’re just getting a break then it continues.”

“With exams,” says Phil. His nose crinkles, and Dan’s stomach goes tight. “It’s pretty much a study break.”

“I’m just gonna procrastinate studying until the last day, I already know it.”

Phil’s smile softens then. He takes another bite of his croissant, swallowing it with a sip of coffee, letting the silence linger. Dan takes a sip of his drink to fill it, to ignore the way his heart is suddenly pounding for no reason whatsoever.

“Maybe I could remind you to study?” says Phil. His cheeks have gone pink. He’s fidgeting over the table so much Dan’s fairly certain he’s going to tear his bread to shreds. “You know, if you give me your number.”

Dan wants to quip that they’d probably get too distracted talking to actually study, but his throat goes tight before he can. He hands over his phone, and tries not to let Phil see his smile.

Tries not to admit he’ll miss this, once his English class is over.

Phil texts him, and grins when Dan’s phone vibrates on the tabletop. He doesn’t go to grab it at first, but Phil keeps staring at him, all wide eyes and expectation.

Dan can’t help but smile when he reads the messages.

Hi it’s Phil ^.^ I was thinking we should meet up after your exam

if you want I mean

no pressure

He grins as he types back: ill text u when i get out

Phil clicks his tongue. “Grammar, Dan. You’ll never get your grade up like this.”

Dan’s laugh rumbles as they both set their phones down to finish their drinks, to look over the rest of Dan’s paper.

Their legs are still brushing under the table.

---

They text over winter break.

There’s a conversation on the train about whether all the snow is melting as he gets further south. And another where Phil asks about his childhood bedroom, for whatever reason. Dan sends him a picture of Bangy just so he can sit down on the sofa and imagine the way Phil’s eyes gleam when he’s happy.

He gets a message on Christmas morning that comes with a picture of Phil in his pyjamas, hugging a gift box to his chest.

Dan smiles so wide his mum asks who he’s texting in the lilted voice that makes his cheeks burn red. He hopes Phil can’t tell in the photo he sends back.

They do talk about schoolwork, sometimes, in timed study sessions. Dan’s pretty sure he’s too distracted to remember anything about Parfit or Kant or Plato, but he can’t bring himself to care. Not when he needs to catch up on studying, alone late at night, and not when Phil admits studying together is a little distracting, too.

One time, Phil makes a comment about how they’ll need to play their new games together sometime.

Another, Dan insinuates that Phil will see his room back at uni, and Phil doesn’t protest.

And there’s a text on New Years, at midnight, that makes Dan’s whole body go warm and giddy, just a little bit of alcohol in his stomach and a lot of thoughts he probably shouldn’t have in his head.

He’s dreading finals when break ends, but he smiles the whole train ride home.

---

They meet up outside Starbucks after the final.

Or, well, between Starbucks and the lecture hall when Dan wrote the test, because Phil’s walking towards him, bag slung over one shoulders, bobble hat on his head.

Dan’s steps are bouncy. His shoulders feel light, his bag filled with only his wallet and pencil case, a whole semester of work falling away. He doesn’t mean to when he reaches out, wraps an arm around Phil’s shoulders, but Phil’s arm curls at his waist and he’s pretty sure it’s okay.

Phil’s grinning. His cheeks are rosy, the tip of his nose red with winter cold. Dan smoothes a bare hand across his cheek. His heart is racing with the knowledge that he can, that Phil isn’t flinching away.

And he kisses him, soft and warm and grateful.

Phil kisses back.

His whole body feels warm when he pulls away, even as the wind sweeps under his jacket. His cheeks, he knows, are bright red. So are Phil’s, though.

“Shit,” says Dan.

“What?”

“Didn’t mean to do that.”

The corner of Phil’s mouth quirks, eyes falling to the ground between them. His blush blooms up his cheeks, pinkening the tips of his ears more than the cold already had. Dan’s not sure if it’s intentional or caused by nerves when Phil squeezes his hip.

“I’m glad you did,” says Phil. His voice is shaky. He draws away slowly, tucking his hands into his pockets and tilting his head so the bobble on his hat flops to the side. “Still want coffee?”

“As long as you’re not going to tutor me again.”

Phil laughs and leads the way to Starbucks.