#skip to the sparkles for me bullying his dancing

[usamey]

Cha cha slide and Uptown funk for Egon?

thanky Lux!!!!!!!! :0DDDDDD *yells for hours*

cha-cha slide - how many versions of your f/o exist? which version do you like?

OKAY SO!! short answer, there’s 5 or 6 but the original one is my favourite.

LONG ANSWER IS

there’s the movie version (the BEST one, mind you), there’s the 1986 cartoon called The Real Ghostbusters, the Extreme Ghostbusters cartoon, the VIDEOGAME Ghostbusters, and there’s the IDW Comic. there’s also a manga version im p sure (but i am looking AWAY)

i only acknowledge the existence of the movie version bc LOOK at these mfers

EWWWWWWWWWW. HALF OF THEM ARE FUCKING BLONDE!!!!!! WHAT!!!!!! WHY DOES ONE OF EM HAVE A MULLET. WHY IS THAT ONE PLATINUM BLONDE AND- oh my god- IS THAT A RAT TAIL???????????

i hate every single one of these guys SO much WHWNNSNSNSNS #notmyegon

uptown funk - is your f/o a good dancer?

okay, so he CLAIMS to be and people have SAID that he is, but we’ve yet to see any discernible proof. he dances once in the second movie, and he dances how he looks- like a fucking GRANDPA.

[jenosslut]

sugary euphoria

pairings: mark lee x fem!reader

genre/s: fluff, suggestive, angst, romance

details: strangers to lovers!au, high school!au

warnings: suggestive content, suggestive humor, explict language

word count: 3k

synopsis: where two sunset lovers experience feelings they never knew existed through the journey of adolescence.

a/n: i absolutely hate how this turned out im so sorry. a special thank you to @navyhyuck, @heartyyjeno and @neojaems for beta reading this. an even more special thank you to @hunjins for always believing in me no matter what.

taglist: @hunjins @neovrse @mrkcore @moonbeamsung @jjikyuu @mellowvoidexpertfriend

couldn’t tag: @markslovelymaid

02.09.2016

you got me breathless, got me begging you to drive me insane

The weather stays warm, in hopes of smiling on everyone. The buoyant sun rays travel directly into the brunette’s eyes, though he doesn’t whine in exasperation like many would do as he is surrounded by his most favored people.

Ecstatic is how he feels around people he loves, and Mark absolutely adores his friends. Those six people- whom he labels as ‘idiots’- aid him to hold onto an endless amount of belligerent days, especially at school.

Even though Mark isn’t exactly the best with words and doesn’t prefer to demonstrate verbal affection, the legitimately adorable laugh escaping his lips whenever he’s around them is enough to let everyone acknowledge the amount of adoration he holds for the six boys.

“Are there two butts or one butt?” He hears Donghyuck question, who has an over dramatically serious expression accompanied with lips shaped in a pout pressed on his face.

“One butt Dongfuck, one butt.” Renjun is the one to respond between gritted teeth and heavy breath, thoroughly devastated with the unnecessary discussions Donghyuck never seems to leave alone.

“There’s two! They’re separate!” Chenle exclaims in an avoidably resounding manner, causing a couple heads to involuntarily shoot towards their direction in inquisitiveness; silently judging the group of boys.

“Why are we having this conversation again?” Jeno states, wrapping his arm around Jisung’s shoulder who happens to nod, displaying agreement in the older’s words.

“Ask Dongtruck.” Renjun says, raising his arms upwards in defence.

“Yeah ask Dongtruck- wait what?” Donghyuck continues, then widens his eyes at the realization; turning his head towards Renjun as his jaw commences to part.

“I’m selling a Dingdong for free, contact me for details!” Chenle screechs, throwing his hands towards the air as the boys surrounding his figure stare at him in incredulity. Many people’s attention switch onto the group of boys again, allowing them- except Chenle- to give reactions out of embarrassment.

“When will you learn to like, shut the fuck up?” Renjun silently shouts at Chenle’s face in exasperation, biting his bottom lip as he runs his hand in between his hair.

“We’re supposed to bully Yuckie here, not me! Gosh, what a traitor.” Chenle responds, letting a dramatic sigh escape his lips, poking his tongue inside his cheek.

“If only you used the creativity you use for Hyuck’s nicknames for pragmatic reasons.” Jeno states, shaking his head.

“How do you even know what pragmatic means?” Mark questions- more to himself- in a lower tone, glancing at Jeno.

“I’m not Renjun, Mark.” Jeno replies, patting Mark’s back as Mark nods at his friend’s words.

The moment Mark Lee turns his head towards the side, his eyes witness a smile; looking dazzling as ever. The sight of you standing exquisite, the most guilelessly enticing expression sitting delicately on your features is enough to cast anyone under your spell.

Your friend says something, you laugh again. Your eyes meet as you involuntarily turn your head towards his direction. Mark’s breath gets caught in his throat, thoroughly overwhelmed. You send him a wave, then boom.

Spark.

Mark Lee bewitches under your spell.

13.11.2016

I see rainbows when i think of us

First Date

First dates are cute, adorably delighting. Kind of awkward. But that’s fine, because it’s delirious. Maybe not euphoric, but definitely a form of ecstasy.

A new experience, a new person. Something contrasting, something exciting.

It’s not the transcendence that makes it appealing, because no first date is perfect. It’s the imperfection, the sheepish smiles shared throughout the day, the embarrassing-feeling sentences that appear cuter than embarrassing.

Maybe the occasion is cliché, maybe it’s not worth enough to be included in a million-selling novel. But the experience is worth it. A simple exchange of ice cream flavors, simple exchanges of words as you amble around a keenly alive park. Cliché, but new. Cliché, but delighting.

Things are a bit less expected in Mark’s case.

The arid leaves fall as a gospel choir, harmonized in such a way that celebrates each hue and shows how they complete each other. The fallen leaves create an alluring pathway as you amble exquisite with Mark besides your figure, hand in hand.

“I think i’m seeing rainbows.” You state breathily, head falling on top of Mark’s shoulder; coming in contact with the soft fabric of his maroon jacket.

“Where? It’s dark though, i don’t think that’s possible,” Mark responds, his eyes scanning through the sky involuntarily as he takes your words legitimately.

“It didn’t rain, it’s not sunny either.” He continues on analyzing his surroundings, not exactly sure of what you meant with the words you had previously put together.

“You make me see rainbows.” You smile, astonished at his oblivious nature.

“How do i do that?” He asks, eyes slightly wide as his lips unintentionally form a small pout.

“I was trying to be poetic, Mark. I know it was bad, you could've just gone along with it.” You let out a playful scoff, the small yet absolute smile continuing its appearance on your lips.

“No no it wasn't bad, i just-” He rambles.

“Oh my god, i’m joking. Calm down, i was just trying to say how you made me happy.” You let out a full hearted laugh this time, clearly amused.

“Oh…” Is all that Mark lets out at the realization, head turning towards the side in embarrassment as his heart skips a beat.

Cute, you think to yourself.

And yes, Mark Lee is indeed an adorable boy who enchants you in even more bewitching experiences.

01.02.201

I love the way I light up when you call me

Your feet play with the treacherously empty and dry looking sand while concentrating on the undulating sound of the shallow turquoise ocean. The majestic ocean seems to be wrapped in a darker color, which could easily be blamed on the endless darkness of the sky caused by the time being nearly five in the morning.

Your head lays on Mark’s shoulder while the jacket he had given you minutes prior- insisting that you were shivering- sits on your shoulders. He holds your body close to his own, feeling an- what he labels as- unreasonable urge to protect you from anything that could occur.

You sit there, a serene feeling captivating you as you listen to each other's alleviating breaths and heartbeats. You throw small sets of words here and there to create some type of a conversation, delighting in the consolatory atmosphere.

"Your heart is beating so fast." You softly speak in incredulity, eyes slightly wide at the unanticipated moment.

Mark widens his eyes, a sheepish smile commencing to play on his lips. He starts mumbling and stuttering as he tries to put together meaningful words, though they don’t make any sense to say the least.

“Mine is beating fast too, if that makes you feel better.” You don’t know where the sudden confidence comes from, yet you keep on staring right into his sparkling orbs with your own; the most ravishing smile sitting buoyantly on your lips.

Mark muttres out a few “Oh”s before lazing his visibly tensed body, slowly melting in your arms as you pull his body even closer to your own.

As the sun begins to rise, a song along with a valse melody commences to play out of the speakers Mark had brought. You softly grab the brunette’s hand, taking it into your own; signaling him to dance with a playful smile on your face.

Mark lifts himself upwards as the sheepish smile from earlier commences to display its appearance back on his features. He uses some help from your hand as he lets out a nervous chuckle, youthful hysteria running through his body.

The two of you sway your bodies according to the mellifluous melody rhyming behind. You recline your head on Mark’s chest, getting into a more comfortable position.

"You're beautiful." Mark’s graceful sounding whisper is heard clearly in your right ear after finally gathering up the courage to state a compliment, causing the smile on your lips to grow uncontrollably.

Before leaning in, you go through a whole debate about whether to kiss him or not inside your head. Finally, you lean in; mixing both of your uniquely ambrosial scents as you catch his lips in between your own.

Although the kiss isn’t exactly perfect, the experience is.

“Be my girlfriend?” Mark asks in a whisper as he uses his right hand to keep your chin up, staring right inside your eyes fervently.

“Yeah.” You whisper back with a heavy breath, not able to control the smile growing on your lips.

The newly rising sun accompanies your bodies as you try to move your lips against each other’s in the middle of a beach. Youthful giggles get thrown around as you share your first kiss, a feeling unfamiliarly intriguing enchanting you.

Maybe, maybe you had a future with Mark. Maybe he was someone who would be there for you during your worst nightmares, a shoulder to cry on after calamitous fights, a soul to share your overwhelming ecstasy with.

Though, you don't know that just yet. You never know what the future holds for you. So you completely give your all to him, living through each second of one of the many euphoric moments you share.

Mayhaps this is the beginning of a new journey...

14.03.2017

I lose my mind when you whisper sweet nothings

Gratuitously, Mark guides your body towards his bedroom; hands all over each other’s bodies as giggles out of hysteria escape your lips. You run your hands through his brown locks, plunking them eagerly as your already plumped lips messily move against each other’s.

Mark lets out another breathy giggle as your noses brush, your hands traveling on his body. Your hands find their way towards the hem of his shirt, fingers fiddling with it; contemplating on whether to take it off or not.

Mark gives you a short nod, displaying approval within his actions as he sends you an adorable smile. You glance upwards to steal a glance from his features, only to get lost inside his doe orbs; sparkling in youthful enthusiasm.

He pushes your body onto his bed, trying to be as meticulous as he could. He helps you slide his shirt off as the kiss gets even messier. After unintentionally biting his bottom lip, you mutter out multiple apologies as Mark assures you; running his hands through your hair soothingly.

He pulls your body onto his lap, blushing when he sees your eyes glued onto his upper body. Your eyes meet when you move your head, both shying away at the shared stare. You land him a kiss, on his cheek instead of his lips. Giggles continuously flow through both of your lips as you keep on planting kisses on his cheeks.

Your lips land on his nose on accident when attempting to shower him in sweet cheek kisses, allowing another giggle out of timidity to be shared.

“I love you, like a lot.” Mark whispers admiringly, the adorably sheepish smile never washing away from his lips as the first ever “I love you” effortlessly falls out. You involuntarily smile at the statement, melting into his honeyed words.

“I love you too.” You whisper back, exchanging the specific three words for the first time.

You spend your night blissfully, not precisely knowing what you are doing. Yet you sure are delightful inside Mark’s tight embrace, heart clenching inside your chest at every amiable touch.

23.05.2017

You’re my favorite mistake

“Mark,” You speak out, fidgeting on his bed uncomfortably as your fingers fiddle with the hem of your skirt.

“Yes, baby?” Mark replies; not exactly paying the most attention as his eyes stay still on the laptop seated on his desk, trying to get an essay done.

“Love, are you okay?” He questions when you don’t respond, diverting is doe orbs towards your direction.

“I’m leaving,” You say as your teeth immediately find their way towards your bottom lip, biting and peeling the skin off in apprehension.

“For university, i’m moving.” You continue, explaining yourself when he doesn’t display any type of reaction.

Mark finally lets out a small yet heavy “When” as his lips part, staring at you dispiritedly.

“This sunday.” You reply faintly after a pause.

“And you decide to tell me about it now? Three days before you leave?” Mark’s eyes go wide as his voice raises, visibly accustomed.

“Calm down.” You attempt to calm him down, though it doesn’t exactly work as he shouts even louder each time he parts his lips.

“Do you even care about my feelings?” Mark clamors.

“Mark, what are you saying?” You ask in incredulity, aching to believe you didn’t hear him accurately.

“Look Y/n, I support whatever you do. But not when you tell me right before it happens!” He continues as a scoff out of mockery follows his words.

“I’m sorry i just-” You start rambling, not having an idea on how to ease his emotions.

“A sorry doesn’t fix everything!” He extends, not allowing you to speak.

“I know-”

“Good that you know! I hope you don’t make the same mistake next time with someone else.”

“Someone else? Mark, are you seriously breaking up with me over this?” You ask as a feeling of overwhelming incredulity captures you. His words allow your eyes to widen as your lips part afterwards.

“What’s there to not break up over, Y/n? How do you expect to continue this once you’re away?” He shouts again, making you pause.

“Okay, i wish you the best.” You state with a shaky voice as tears commence to gliss up inside your eyes, causing them to look glossy. You try your best to not blink, holding your tears in.

You can’t cry. No, you can’t cry in front of him.

So you get up and leave.

--

You are still young.

Not everything lasts, not everything is meant to last.

Each moment is worth living without allowing a knot to form inside your stomach in worry. Experiences have reasons, purposes. So do you, you have a purpose. Cry your heart out after agonizing fights, laugh in delight with all you’ve got; enchanted in an overwhelming euphoria.

You are shaped by awkward encounters, innocently sheepish grins, pernicious altercations, anguished tears. Mistakes you make at eighteen become experiences you thank at thirty.

Sugary moments come to an end, so do the bitter ones. Nothing is permanent, nothing is promised. You can’t live with worry, you can’t live in pain.

Life is short, short enough for you to give each moment a chance. Short enough to feel everything, to live and not just exist.

Somewhere out there, there’s someone for you. Someone willing to cherish all your imperfections, someone willing to shower you in love as immense adoration dances in their sparkling orbs.

Love...love is alluring, fascinating, breathtakingly dazzling. There’s so much to explore within love, so much to explore within a person. New euphoric moments to be shared, new eyes to get lost in, new hearts to beat together.

Love with all you have, give people every ounce of what they deserve without worrying about the ending. Every moment comes to an end. Every kiss has a final share, every breakdown has a final tear.

There is a beginning to each journey, there’s also an ending to those journeys. No time is worth spending cooped up in your room with tears drenching on your features, no time is worth contemplating on whether or not to do something in worry.

Although this is an anguished ending to the previous chapter, it’s a sugary euphoric beginning for another one...

[not-saying-revolution-but]

on the artistry of Loïc Nottet's "Mr/Mme"

We open to a cobbled, deserted Brussels intersection. The title appears in old-timey yellow against the grayscale. A white-clad Loïc Nottet enters as a piano teases the opening, and it starts.

I have a lot of emotions about "Mr/Mme," the last track on Nottet's second studio album (Sillygomania) and, to my knowledge, his first song fully en français. "Mr/Mme" dropped in April of 2020, which was still near the start of the pandemic in Europe and North America. I, for one, did not anticipate what the next year would hold. And yet when this song appeared in Spotify’s suggestions (as the algorithm knows my weakness for Nottet's vocal range and off-pop sound), it touched a nerve that has pulsed for the last 12 months.

To be clear, I'm not going to present any new revelations about this song. Nottet is indisputably a phenomenal artist, "Mr/Mme" is a perfect example of his skill, and that's that on that. I'm more interested in the raw emotions that this song explores and how the piece indicates a radical departure from Nottet's previous body of work. Or does it?

Born in 1996, Loïc Nottet is a Belgian singer/songwriter/dancer who made a name for himself on The Voice Belgique and ESC 2015. You can look up his Wikipedia page if you like. His first album, "Selfocracy," is entirely in English and handles themes of bullying, selfishness, the corruptibility of society, and related. I don't know what the Belgian and French reviewers said, but the album was fairly well received in the English-speaking places I inhabit. The songs are punchy and get stuck in your head. The lyrics feel clever but maybe a little strained. A Youtube star dropping his first studio album.

And then "Mr/Mme" came out. Nottet greets his audience with a "bonsoir Monsieur, Madame / aujourd'hui, j'te dis tout" (good evening sir, madame / today, I'll tell you everything). He proceeds to do just that. Nottet describes a living hell, a world that "m'étrangle, m'écrase et me brûle" (strangles me, crushes me, and burns me). The ensuing musical monologue swivels from individual anguish to a broader critique of humanity, described as nothing but a bully without love. Those who cannot afford morphine are refused the moon. Children turn into monsters and the rest of us pay rent.

About halfway through the song (which lacks a chorus), Nottet tells the listener how alone he feels while walking the glorious road to fame. He copes by drinking, poking fun at his youth, and grappling in the darkness for any sense of meaning (he's in his 20s after all). Despite living out his childhood dreams, Nottet admits to his own unhappiness.

While Nottet sings all of this, alternating between confessional and belting tones, the camera tracks his wanderings through the streets of Brussels. It looks utterly empty until we see another figure walking past. They look over their shoulder as they pass this strange young man who sings, skips, and spreads his arms in the way of music videos. With a bitter twinge of irony, his oversized white dress shirt has "enjoy yourself" written on the breast pocket.

Nottet takes us down the narrow, shuttered, and graffitied alleyways that spread out from La Grand-Place. He carefully avoids the Baroque square, though, taking rapid turns just when you think you're nearing it. The camera follows in its shaky way. The crowds increase as the song swells, now showing other young people in their sparkling little groups. Nottet breaks through, and everything stops as he sings "je n'sais plus qui je suis, j'suis perdu" (I no longer know who I am, I am lost).

And finally, finally. We reach La Grand-Place, and the lyrics shift. Nottet tells us how he feels when he’s on stage, which is far from the horrific picture he just described:

Car j'écris quand j'me plante

Et je ris quand je danse

Et je vis quand je chante

Et pour tout ça, j'te dis :

Merci

(Because I write when I mess up, and I laugh when I dance, and I live when I sing. And for all of that, I say to you: Thank you.)

Nottet’s figure paints a bright absence on the darkened Grand-Place. The song is officially over but Nottet launches into a series of ethereal "oohs" that transcend this mortal realm. He now shows off his dancing and spreads himself open as the "oohs" reach their highest pitch. Nottet looks like a broken bird, splayed open in La Grand-Place and suspended by his rib cage. The video ends with a few more leg kicks and spins before Nottet wanders out of frame. Everything was done in one take.

So what makes this song and music video so special? Is it not another artsy, indie production about a young singer struggling with fame?

I say to that nay. In "Mr/Mme," Nottet uses his extraordinary voice to access an emotion that is often trivialized. “A young man makes it big and then feels lonely, so what,” we could say. “Life is hard.” This is both true and not. Nottet's struggles are different from most of ours, but he speaks in terms that feel familiar. How many of us realize too late that success isn’t all it’s cracked up to be? "Mr/Mme" holds extremes that more often coexist than contradict in real life, including "humanity is fucked and we should burn everything to the ground" and "there are moments when life is worth living." I know of few other songs that capture both emotions in such a poignant way.

Moreover, the video is carefully done. Directed by Hugo Jouxtel, it seems almost self-conscious about its artsy look. The passersby may be hired extras, I don't know, but they react organically. It's almost embarrassing to see them hastily cross the street and give the singer funny looks. There’s a bit of self-recognition through the other, if you will, particularly if you’ve ever had a breakdown in public (hands, anyone? just me?). It is one thing to sing about feeling alone and quite another to be alone amid the crowds of La Grand-Place. La Grand-Place, a tourist attraction with very few things to do. A place that is good for milling about, snapping a picture, and then hurrying on with your life, oblivious.

Besides the video being aesthetically pleasing, it feels real. Nottet cannot step beyond the gated storefronts as he laments. Sometimes the camera captures an unflattering angle as he tilts up his chin in anguish. It's pretty but gritty. Like the song. Like fame. Like life.

The view from my chair is this: "Mr/Mme" signals a new moment of maturity for an artist who (I am convinced) will one day be known worldwide. It acknowledges the darker threads present in "Selfocracy" (the darkness inside us, the ever-watching “million eyes”) but strips it all down to the bare essentials. The song is honest. And for a popular artist like Nottet, who has already proven himself many times over, honesty might be the rarest thing.

*All translations are from yours truly. Any errors are, of course, my own.

[lov3nerdstuff]

Voluptas Noctis Aeternae {Part 7.26}

*Severus Snape x OC*

Summary: It is the year 1983 when the ordinary life of Robin Mitchell takes a drastic turn: she is accepted into Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Despite the struggles of being a muggle-born in Slytherin, she soon discovers her passion for Potions, and even manages the impossible: gaining the favor of Severus Snape. Throughout the years, Robin finds that the not quite so ordinary Potions Professor goes from being a brooding stranger to being more than she had ever deemed possible. An ally, a mentor, a friend... and eventually, the person she loves the most. Through adventure, prophecies and the little struggles of daily life in a castle full of mysteries, Robin chooses a path for herself, an unlikely friendship blossoms into something more, and two people abandoned by the world can finally find a home.

General warnings: professor x student, blood, violence, trauma, neglectful families, bullying, cursing

Words: 5.5k

Read Part 1.1 here! All Parts can be found on the Masterlist!

______________________________

"I had the choice between making you laugh and thereby forget about the pain I was unfortunately causing in the process, or to further said pain even more by talking about Morgan and his vile doings." He replied so easily that it made perfect sense now, as the most obvious solution ever. "As you see, it wasn't even a choice to be made."

"Thank you. That… was a really clever thing to do, actually." Robin sighed and gave him a soft smile, then took a moment to appreciate how the shadows of the flames danced across his skin before she spoke on. "So… no more pain for now?"

"Not as far as I can tell."

"Let's find out for sure then, shall we?" Her smile turned into a brighter one, especially when a spark lit up his dark eyes that didn't originate from the flames by their side. "I can't very well test it by myself after all… doesn't work like that."

"Pity." He replied with a not-smirk, as the amusement wouldn't stay off his face like the irony not gone from his words, nor the purest adoration out of his gaze when Robin took the one small step left to stand directly before him, on her tiptoes for their lips to almost touch when he leaned down just a little bit further. "You really are insufferable."

"I know." She got out in one whisper of a smile, before every word and breath was taken from her in a gentle brushing of lips, and a delicate tracing of fingers down her spine a moment later. Back were the shivers of unadulterated delight, now that the pain was gone for real. Whatever he had done, he had done it well. A part of Robin's mind couldn't help marveling at the sheer amount of talent that Snape possessed for just about anything of relevance, for such a variety of magic and wondrous things, while the rest of her soon was too distracted to think at all.

Eventually her toes started to hurt from standing up on them though, and her hands and arms grew tired from holding up her dress for so long, which led her to pull away just enough to look at him. "May I borrow something of yours to wear tonight? A ball gown isn't really the most comfortable thing to be sitting on a sofa in… and I'd like to have a drink before you tell me just what it was that Morgan did to my back."

"You can have anything you want, Robin, most obviously even if it is a thing as simple as a piece of clothing. It shouldn't come as a surprise to you however that the options in that regard are rather… limited."

"Well, if I don't find anything, I'll just wrap myself in your robes instead." Robin quirked an eyebrow at him with a small smirk, then sauntered over to the wardrobe where he kept his most mundane belongings. Even with her back to him now, she could tell that her comment had frozen him in place, while his eyes still seemed to burn holes into her skin. It made her shiver to have his full attention on her body like this now, but she still rolled her eyes to herself with a smile. "That was a joke, you know… I'll find something to wear. But I'm feeling quite underdressed, if you keep standing there in your dress robes."

"I wasn't aware that I was to keep up with your astonishing level of undress, my sincerest apologies." He replied in the most obvious sarcasm as he fell into action nonetheless, which made Robin snort and shake her head to herself as she picked up a long abandoned t-shirt she had discovered at the very bottom of the wardrobe, which only put emphasis on the point that he certainly would have no interest in wearing it himself. That would have to do… While the thought of wearing so very little made her heart skip a beat in itself, it also brought back a spark of insecurity. Teasing was one thing, but could she really be quite as bold in reality? It surely wouldn't bother him too much if she only wore his t-shirt and her knickers, would it? She hadn't worn that much more in the summer either… but there still was a difference between jersey shorts and underwear. The thought made her blush, made her heart beat faster and her skin tingle at once, but then again, the temptation of crossing yet another line that now lay broken before her was just too strong to resist. He'd said he wanted to keep her here after all… and he certainly hadn't expected her to sleep in her ball gown, had he?

It took a bit of fumbling with the last few buttons on her dress before Robin finally had it opened up all the way, but then she simply dropped the heavy fabric and let it pool by her feet while she pulled the shirt over her head instead. It probably wasn't the most exciting piece of clothing, soft and black and plain, but at least it covered her butt for the most part, and it was already comfortable seconds after putting it on. That really was all she had wanted. Sighing to herself, she picked her dress up from the ground and folded it in half before placing it with her shoes on the trunk next to the wardrobe where it wouldn't be in the way. This really felt strangely normal, somehow. All of this. Then again, they had been this close for ages. Almost, at least. Again, she realized just how little had actually changed. They still were just the same old dungeon bat and insane girl, only with more possibilities. The thought made her smile.

When she turned back around at last, the first thing she took pleasant notice of was the fact that he had shed some layers of coats indeed, which again left him in one of those linen shirts she liked so much. The second thing she noticed was the two glasses and the bottle of firewhisky on the coffee table, and she had to smirk at the fact that he hadn't even had to ask to know what she wanted to drink. It had become somewhat of a staple by now, and while they didn't drink too often, they usually ended up with firewhisky whenever they did. The third and final thing that caught her eye was his gaze on her, which she couldn't describe as anything other than awestruck even as she slowly made her way back to the sofa. Somehow, instead of feeling uncomfortable or nervous now, Robin simply had to smile while her heart was leaping out of her chest again. He really did look at her like she was the answer to the universe's greatest question… and it did unspeakable things to her in return.

With the same smile and a sigh she plopped down on the sofa next to Snape, then summoned a blanket from the shelves and draped it over her now crossed legs. Not out of embarrassment really, but naked skin and cold dungeon air just didn't go too well together for a longer period of time, no matter how lovely the fire or the company was. When her eyes finally lifted back to meet his, she found that he was still looking at her with that same expression of calm amazement, and she had to chuckle as she quirked an eyebrow up at him.

"What?" She finally asked, when after a few moments he still made no attempt to do anything other than observe her quietly.

"Never did I dare to believe I would get to see you like this. Be with you, like this." He replied calmly, and his words made Robin smile again, while for some odd reason this sufficed to make a subtle heat creep up her neck. Honestly, she hadn't expected it either. But then again, now that it was part of their reality, it felt like the most natural and inevitable thing in existence.

"And do you like it, now that you do… see me?" She asked, even though she had a rather vivid idea of what he was going to reply.

"Obviously. Even if 'like' is quite as much of an understatement as 'happy' was."

"Good." Robin smiled, then let out a humoured huff. "I still remember our sleepover in the lab… or that one time on my birthday. You let me wear your robes, and I was positively dying on the inside from the sheer excitement about it."

"So was I."

"Really?" She frowned at him with a small incredulous laugh, and her eyes followed his movements while he finally poured them a firewhisky each. "I mean… why?"

"Do you have any idea how insanely attractive it is to see you wearing something of mine?"

The stupid smile was back on her face in under a second in reply to that, and it prevailed even when he handed her a glass and rolled his eyes exaggeratedly upon seeing her probably very goofy expression. The smirk on his lips however told the truth of his thoughts.

"So… seeing me in just your shirt now must be quite the sight." Robin mused in feigned nonchalance, swirling the amber liquid around her glass while she watched it sparkle in the glow of the fire. "Or does it step aside to seeing me in my underwear without having to look away for the first time?"

"You are such a tease."

"Only when it comes to you. You know that."

He didn't reply immediately, which is what made Robin look up from her glass just in time to see his smirk turning into a small but sincerely happy smile. "Indeed."

The leaping of her heart washed away every drop of tease in an instant, and left behind only the soaring adoration and burning excitement. With a smile mirroring his own, Robin raised her glass to him. "To everything."

"To you, for being braver than I was." He added on in subtle amusement at her grand expression, and finally clinked his glass to hers. Then they both took a sip of their drinks as they ought to, but their eyes stayed locked on each other the entire time nonetheless, sheer unable to look away. Robin smiled into her glass for a moment, then set it down on the table behind the sofa without even having to look at what she was doing. This was perfect… it was just like always, but it also was more after all.

For another quiet moment she simply observed him then, how he took another sip of whisky, and it once more brought the question of how it would taste on his lips to the forefront of her mind. She had been wondering about that for months now… every time they were drinking just this beverage, to be exact. It was due time she finally got an answer. But… could she just kiss him like that? Without warning? Technically, she had originally been the first to kiss him, but after that it had rather been more or less subtle prompting from her that had made him kiss her, and-...

"Talk to me, Robin… Getting lost now would be a shame. What is troubling you?"

Gods, he was too good at reading her. Robin sighed to herself, and had to smile nonetheless. There was no need to find a half truth to answer anymore… She could finally tell him absolutely everything that went on in her head, without restraint. That was bloody brilliant, actually. "I was just wondering if I could kiss you, just like that."

"What an inane question." He quirked an eyebrow at her with a humoured expression. "Obviously you can if you want to. What makes you doubt that now?"

"Doubt is the wrong word for it… I was just concerned that I might do something wrong, if I just… you know. Or that I'd make you uncomfortable." She shrugged with a half smile. "I just like to think about the consequences of my actions before I do something stupid."

"I'm well aware of that." The smirk was back on his lips, but it was surprisingly affectionate in contrast to the usual humour or scorn. "And to be honest, I am no stranger to the very same concerns."

"Really? But you seem so certain in everything you do… like you know exactly that what you're doing is right, and also what you're supposed to do."

"So do you." He replied, much to Robin's sincere surprise. She seemed like she knew what she was doing?! No way. And yet, he seemed to believe so. "Obviously these impressions can be quite misleading."

Once again, the thought and realization that in the end he was just as afraid to mess this up as she was herself made Robin's heart soar, made warmth spread out from her chest through her entire body, made her lose more of her own concerns. They would learn to navigate these new territories, together.

"You've never made me uncomfortable with anything you did…" She said with a smile. "You've only ever made me want more."

"I could say the exact same about you."

"Oh come on, I know for a fact that I've made you uncomfortable before."

"You challenge me, that is entirely different."

"How about we both stop being so stupidly concerned then, and just do instead of overthinking and worrying? Yes, how about we agree to actually tell each other what we think, want and what makes us uncomfortable instead?" Robin suggested with a hopeful but not remotely imploring look. She knew better than to push him. "We've been doing just that about work matters for ages now… talking honestly and openly, I mean. Would it be so bad if we did the same for everything else as well?"

"I assume not." He mused, then studied her for a moment before speaking on, in well considered seriousness. "I promise to try."

That, she knew and would never forget, was a truly extraordinary thing for him to do, to promise, especially such a thing, and it made her heart leap out of her chest yet again with an overwhelming wave of affection. But it also made her smile. "I promise to try as well."

"And just to test the functionality of that, what would you be thinking right in this instant?" He raised an eyebrow at her, then took another sip of whisky and set the empty glass down on the table at last.

"That I really want my answer now, to a question I've had for ages." She smiled in return, but before he could do anything more than frown in question, Robin was sitting up on her knees already, blanket long forgotten and abandoned as she moved closer to his side. Not even half a second later her lips were on his for a gentle, but all the more determined kiss.

If it wasn't for the subtle taste of firewhisky, Robin would have doubted the reality of the moment yet again the very second her body and soul were set ablaze. A small voice in her mind wondered if she would ever get used to these overwhelming feelings, if it was the whisky or the kiss that was making her dizzy in the most delightful of ways, if kisses were supposed to be this ineffably intoxicating. It certainly was the most delightful way to lose yourself, and find something far greater instead.

Perhaps that is why the gentleness, the seek for a mere answer was doomed and destined to grow into inevitable passion. Soft lips turned tongues and teeth and it sent yet another thrill through Robin when his hand settled on the curve of her hip to pull her as close as their awkward angle on the sofa allowed. It wasn't enough; she wanted to be closer than this, closer than just leaning into his side. She had to be, it was an irresistible calling, an impulse she couldn't ignore. On instinct more than by conscious thought her arms wrapped around his shoulders, tugging him closer in return now, but he wouldn't have it. Instead, not a fathomable moment later, the hand on her hip turned into an arm around her waist and just like that he pulled her into his lap without an effort. Robin thought it a change for the better, one that gave her new tingles all over. Straddling his legs now, her entire body curved into his in an instant as she pressed herself as close as she could, and he let out a quiet involuntary moan in return. Gods, he would be the end of her… even if she felt more alive now than she ever had before.

It was only his fingers tracing along a sliver of her skin below the hem of her shirt that sent a literal quiver through her, and when he placed his other hand on her thigh, a gentle caress of her bare skin, the heartbeat that echoed through her wasn't entirely her own. The thudding rhythm within her in addition to a serious lack of oxygen made her break away with a gasp at last, but she still found herself unable to speak, to act, to do anything but stay as close as she could nonetheless.

"If that was the answer, do I even want to know the question?" Snape was the first to speak, entirely out of breath no less, but he at least, thank god, kept on drawing circles on Robin's skin that made her sigh under her breath, while his question however made her croak a laugh.

"I have been wondering for months now what firewhisky would taste like on your lips." She made herself reply at last, and leaned back just enough to look at him with an amused smile.

"How curious…" He mused, and in a poor attempt to conceal his smirk he gave her an evaluating frown. "Do you happen to have wondered the same thing about other beverages as well?"

Now that made Robin chuckle even more, and display the very smirk she knew he was trying to hold off. "Let's say I wouldn't be opposed to a series of tests."

That sufficed to break his half hearted attempt by far, and he rolled his eyes with a snort, then didn't even bother to hide the smirk anymore. He certainly wasn't opposed to the idea either, if the way he was still holding onto her was any indication of that. Robin couldn't help but smile when his hold on her tightened the smallest bit as he shifted beneath her, and yet it also brought a subtle heat to her cheeks as it made her very much aware of the fact that she was sitting in his lap. In her underwear. If that wasn't enough reason to grin like an idiot and blush at the same time she didn't know what was. She found that she enjoyed it far too much to be embarrassed though, or do anything other than relish this closeness. As new as it was, it still felt absolutely and undeniably right.

"I think me seizing your space has gotten an entirely new dimension now." She said after a while, in a mixture of amusement and affection. "But I must say you make a very comfortable seat. And I rather enjoy the perspective."

"Don't get used to it." He quirked an eyebrow up at her, and even though their current position left Robin only minimally taller than him, the change in perspective was indeed rather nice for once.

"Whyever not?" Her smirk only broadened yet again, and she made a point of moving her face so close that her nose brushed against his while she spoke. "Is having me in your lap really quite so terrible? Or is it my astonishing state of undress, as you put it, that is troubling you?"

He didn't even need to reply with words for Robin to get a clear answer immediately, as his body definitely betrayed any attempt to deny the truth that was obvious as day. She could feel the twitch and shudder running through his entire being in rapid succession, his heart skipping a beat right beneath her fingertips. Another, when her lips just barely brushed against his for a fleeting moment of innocent teasing. And it was her heart indeed that went wild when his hand sneaked beneath her shirt once more as he gently traced up the sensitive skin along her spine, before pulling her in with a start for a kiss that was everything but a tease. Robin sighed against his lips in an immediate response, arching into his chest and his touch on mere instinct, and when she grazed her teeth over his bottom lip, his fingers dug into her back in the same delightful intensity the two of them shared with every missing breath.

"Do you think we will ever be able to stop?" She finally brought out in a breathless chuckle, playing with the rivers of black her fingers had at some point become tangled up in. "After all, you really are impossibly addictive, and I don't think I can ever get enough of the divine privilege that is having you as mine."

"Good." His sparse reply was accompanied by a small smirk that made Robin roll her eyes with a mirroring one of her own. If she didn't know better, she would've thought that her accidental poeticism had lost on him… but she did know far better indeed. For a moment they stayed like that, until at last, Snape spoke on. "Going by the state of the fire, we perhaps should consider calling it a night soon if we want to at least pretend that we made an effort to retire in time to get up for breakfast in the morning. With the magic worked on you tonight, I honestly cannot imagine you not to be exhausted."

"You still haven't told me about what exactly that magic worked on me was, seeing as I did a pretty good job distracting you until now. Which is a good thing, don't get me wrong… but I guess I still will have to know what Morgan did to me if I have to see that arse again tomorrow morning." Robin sighed, and she had to admit that she did feel rather exhausted indeed. All the dancing at the ball, the anxiety, the walk, the overwhelming amount of emotions and adrenaline… and on top of that, whatever magic Snape was talking about. "Let's get it over with; what did he do?"

"Do you really want to keep sitting like that for a serious conversation?"

"Just tell me." She gave him a defeated look, in the knowledge that he was obviously dreading the topic as much as she had been up until this point. "It's fine, I'm far too happy right now to let it ruin my night."

"He tried to kill you."

"He… wait, what?!" Robin frowned at him in an instant, in the sincere belief that she had misunderstood him somehow.

"He placed a curse on you that could eventually have led to your timely demise if it had stayed on you for any longer than it did." Snape repeated his words, in the usual yet shocking factuality and neutrality Robin couldn't help but admire. Perhaps this was his way of refraining from murdering Morgan right in this instant, or of trying to distance himself from the reality and gravity of his own words. Either way, it seemed to be working. "That is why it hurt without reason when he touched your back. As far as I could tell, the spell he used would have resulted in immense pain for you whenever someone other than him would physically touch you, up to the point where a mere embrace could be fatal. Initially the effect was obviously limited to your back only, but as you yourself noticed, it was already expanding both in the affected area and the pain caused by touch by the time I removed it."

"What fucked up kind of spellwork is that?! And why… I mean… He-... it's…" Robin groaned when she couldn't get her cluster of thoughts out as a stringent sentence, then hid her face in her hands to regain some order in her mind. This was madness all over again… Morgan was a bloody professor, he couldn't just curse her!!! People would know what he did if she'd made it to the infirmary. If she had made it, that is. Bloody hell, this really gave his insanity a dangerous twist now. This was the first time he had actively tried to harm her, and it obviously had been planned. Nobody just spontaneously came up with a curse like that! Then again, what-...

Her thoughts came to a sudden halt when she felt a gentle tug on her hair. Actually, what she felt was her wand being tugged out of the by now more messy than neat bun. She finally dropped her hands from her face when her hair softly spiralled down her back a moment later, and she couldn't help smiling at Snape when he brushed a strand of it out of her face. It really was her luck that nobody knew how amazing he was… a shame, but also her privilege. And he didn't even need to say a single thing for her to know exactly what he meant to say.

"I know… Sorry. I'm not getting lost again." Robin sighed after a moment. "It's just… I don't understand him at all at this point, and I'm not used to not understanding things. It's not only dangerous, but also very irritating."

"I see." He replied while setting her wand down on the coffee table behind the sofa, then his hand returned to her thigh to draw small circles which Robin found ineffably soothing now. She figured that it was the intention more than the gesture that actually made it more calming than exciting for once, and yet again she could only adore how he was able to do both. After a moment of calm silence, he asked, "Would you like to know more about the spell at least, if neither of us is able to make sense of Morgan just yet?"

"Yeah… How do you even know of such a spell anyway? And how did you know how to undo it?" Robin inquired with a frown, but thought better of it and went on even before he had a chance to reply. "You know what, nevermind. I'm not even surprised. You know just about everything, which really is my greatest luck."

"You might want to thank yourself for that in this particular instance. I only looked into historical spells after your knowledge of the renaissance helped us uncover my book's secret."

"But that was years ago…"

"I happen to have a decent memory, which is why I could recall this particular curse along with its countercurse from one of my casual reads I delved into at the time. The spell was mainly used in the late middle ages on supposedly unfaithful spouses or favoured mistresses, but given the timelessness of its intended use, it seems to have prevailed until the present day. In some circles at least."

"That level of possessiveness definitely fits in with everything Morgan has been saying to me for a while now. Guess he did put his mark on me like he wanted to after all." Robin scoffed, while absentmindedly playing with the buttons on Snape's shirt. "Did the scars stay on my back? After you removed the curse?"

"They did not."

"Too bad… I was hoping for some physical evidence of his doings."

"You certainly are peculiar sometimes. There has been enough undeniable evidence against Morgan at this point, and it has led to no results whatsoever, which is why I for my part appreciate the fact that there was no lasting damage done to you at least."

"Well-... You're probably right. Coming to think of it, I really have had enough injuries after the thing last summer. The girls were rather horrified when they saw the scar tonight; I don't need another to prove the case."

That brought a small but curious frown to his face, and after what seemed like a moment of internal debate, he finally gave in to it. "It has been months since, and they haven't seen it before now?"

"Nobody but you has." Robin shrugged with a humoured half smile. "It's not like I undress in front of other people regularly, you know… To be honest, I've always been rather afraid of it."

"In that case you are surprisingly at ease with it now."

"I'm at ease with you, that's different. When I said I want everything with you I did mean everything; no inhibitions and no conditions. I trust you, quite a bit more than myself for the most part."

"Terrible decision." He sighed exaggeratedly, which in combination with his words and expression made Robin chuckle.

"Seeing as I'm still alive and able to have this conversation, I beg to differ." She argued back with a smirk. "In fact, I think trusting you is the best decision I have ever made. Unlike my choice of underwear tonight, which was admittedly quite poor even for me. I'll try to do better from here on."

"Funny." He rolled his eyes with a not-smirk, then a sincere smile. "You really aren't uncomfortable with me in the least at this point, are you?"

"Obviously I'm not. I promised to tell you if I ever am, and you know all about my promises. They do come a close second to yours." She replied in a calm factuality that stemmed in the knowledge that it was absolutely true what she said. She trusted him unconditionally, and honestly, she had been doing so for the longest time now.

"In that case, this shouldn't make you uncomfortable either." He stated, half feigned neutrality and half feigned innocence, but with enough mischief in both to make Robin smile even before he slowly moved his hands up her thighs and to cup her bottom. It sent an immediate thrill through her, from the top of her head into every last cell of her being and down into her very core, and yet at the same time it also threatened to make her grin.

"In fact, it doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. Rather on the contrary." She replied in a half-hearted attempt to keep a straight face, but the frantic beating of her heart echoing through her as well as the sheer blazing tingles on her skin made that positively impossible.

"Good. Now hold on, yes?"

Before Robin could make any attempt to ask what he meant by that, his hold on her tightened in return and a second later he got up off the sofa while simply lifting her up with him. After a broken second of honest surprise, she clung onto him as tightly as she could by instinct, heartbeat going through the roof for multiple reasons at once, but she also couldn't help laughing a moment later.

"What on earth are you doing? I'm way too heavy to be carried around!" She protested very unconvincingly even for her own ears, especially with all those broken chuckles in between her words. Truth be told, she loved every second of it.

"Some of my books are heavier than you." He returned easily, but undoubtedly with a smirk to his tone. "And I am disappointed by your lack of faith in my strength."

"I do have every possible faith in you, just… don't drop me, please." She said a little wearily when he started moving away from the sofa and the fireplace and towards the far corner of the room.

"Never." His voice stayed surprisingly steady even as he moved up the two steps towards the bed and into the growing darkness. "But carefully setting you down should be alright, I presume, because otherwise we would be sitting on that sofa until morning."

Robin nodded into his shoulder, unable to speak without making a fool of herself and her squeaky, breathless voice, and a moment later her back touched the surface of the bed, soft linen sheets grazing the naked skin on her legs so lightly her breathing hitched in return. But when Snape pulled back after putting her down, withdrawing from her grasp way too soon, she couldn't help but refuse to loosen her hold on him in return, refuse to let him leave her without his warmth, and all it took was a little tug on his shoulders to make him lose his balance and fall forward. A tiny smirk found its way onto Robin's lips in an instant; He really should have seen that coming now, shouldn't he?

______________________________

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[wisteriashouse]

a little jealousy.

pairing: kamado tanjirou x sumiyuri hayami (oc)

genre: fluff; kimetsu academy!au

word count: 7429

remarks: another commission by @hinokami-s​!! honestly this one was a bit of a struggle trying to not make it too kdrama like but also with trying my hand with a new character who i don’t really know, so thank you for challenging me with this! i hope you enjoy it <3

The stage lights dim all at once, adding a dramatic flair as the curtains fall - slowly concealing the scene of a young woman bleeding out on the floor and the man cradling her in his arms. The theatre is hushed except for the sound of gears and wheels turning to move the heavy curtains, the audience still reeling in shock over the twist in the plot and the bittersweet ending.

Well, except one person, perhaps.

“Ooh, is the next performance Hayami’s?” Nezuko whispers from next to him, nearly bouncing up and down in her seat with excitement. She hasn’t been able to concentrate much on the entire series of performances showcased by the other clubs at their school, too distracted by the prospect of the finale. Tanjirou only gives a fond smile and nods. Although he’s a lot more calm than Nezuko is, he can’t help but anticipate the next performance as well.

After all, Hayami is going to be the one performing.

“I’m so excited,” Nezuko gushes. “Hayami showed me a bit of what they were working on a while back, and it was already so cool!”

“Well, she is the president of the dance club,” Tanjirou reminds his sister. “Whatever it is, I’m sure it’ll be amazing.”

Even in the dim light of the auditorium, he can see Nezuko’s teasing little smirk. “Of course you would think so, brother, with your massive crush on Hayami-”

Tanjirou puts his hand over Nezuko’s mouth before his younger sister can blurt it out to the whole world. “Shush, Nezuko,” he tries to say, but Nezuko only laughs playfully, looking far too amused for a younger sister who’s bullying her dear older brother. “What if someone hears?”

“All the better! You’d have more reason to confess to Hayami then!”

“Nezuko, I swear-”

All the stage lights suddenly blink to life in unison, nearly blinding Tanjirou and making Nezuko squeal in excitement. “It’s starting! It’s starting! Wait, I need to get out my phone and take some videos for Instagram…”

Tanjirou, on the other hand, simply relaxes back into the plush seat of the performance hall, intent on watching the performance properly. It’s rare that he has free time like today, oftentimes being too busy with school, his part time job or his responsibilities at the family bakery to really enjoy himself like a regular high school student would. But Hayami had insisted, even going as far to offer both him and Nezuko free tickets in one of the front row seats, just so the two of them could have some fun and relax.

Well, when she had looked at him so excitedly, explaining all the different shows the performance clubs would be putting on, how could he possibly refuse her good intentions?

Lights flood the stage, the curtains falling to the sides to reveal a group of performers standing on the stage in various confidant poses, their silhouettes outlined against the glowing backdrop. All around them, the speakers start to blare a song - one that Tanjirou is quite sure he’s heard before, but isn’t entirely sure what it is - and it sends the entire audience into loud cheers.

“Oooh, Really Bad Boy by Red Velvet! I approve of this song choice!” Nezuko cheers, waving her phone in the air as the group breaks into a dance. Squinting against the bright lights, Tanjirou tries his best to concentrate on the performance, but he always finds his eyes roaming the performers, as if searching for someone…

“Sing along with us!”

Tanjirou looks up at the stage in surprise at the familiar voice, and his eyes widen when he sees Hayami standing at the very edge closest to him. There’s striking makeup done artfully on her face and she almost glows under the lights of the stage, a fierce yet ethereal aura radiating from her. The sight is almost enough to take Tanjirou’s breath away.

Just at that moment, Hayami glances down at the front row when Tanjirou looks up, and their gazes meet for the briefest of seconds. Hayami’s eyes gleam like fine cut amethysts, sparkling in the light, her platinum hair swinging out behind her in a high ponytail. And when their gazes meet in the middle, Hayami grins at him - a bright, unrestrained sight that has Tanjirou’s heart skipping in his chest.

“Brother, your blush is showing, you know!” Nezuko calls over the heavy bass coming over the speakers, and Tanjirou instantly clasps both hands over his cheeks, feeling slight heat along his palms. At his mortification, Nezuko only laughs harder, tears nearly escaping her eyes and raising her phone to his face. “You’re so cute, brother! Let me take a photo, I’m sure Hayami would love to see it.”

“No.” Tanjirou tries to make a grab for the phone but misses, and he hears the telltale click of Nezuko’s camera phone. With a long, drawn out sigh, he simply gives up and slumps back into his seat, resigned to watching the rest of the performance. There’s no stopping Nezuko when she’s in a playful mood like this, he thinks to himself with fond ruefulness. Well, he doesn’t really mind it, though…

The performance ends with a bang, and Tanjirou joins the audience in giving a standing ovation as the rest of the performers stream onto the stage for their final bow. And as confetti rains down from the ceiling, gold streamers and coloured paper dancing through the air, Tanjirou thinks that Hayami looks absolutely radiant.

As soon as the performance night is over and the performers have all retreated backstage, the audience begins streaming out of the halls, chattering excitedly about all the different shows that were put on that night. Tanjirou, on the other hand, remains firmly rooted to his seat, his bag held tightly to his chest as if he’s carrying glass with him.

“Hayami’s performance was so cool! God, if I knew how to dance I’d join her club right away - wait, I’m not even in high school yet. That’s fine, that’s fine. It just means that I have more time to learn how to dance,” Nezuko glances back to see her older brother not listening to her in the least, instead dedicating his attention to checking the contents of his bag carefully. Curious, she leans over to catch a glance. “What’s that?”

Tanjirou jumps at Nezuko’s question, before he relaxes slightly, chewing at his bottom lip with nerves. “Oh, nothing much. It’s just… um, some flowers.” Nezuko’s eyes widen in interest. Who knew her brother had a romantic bone in his body? “Zenitsu mentioned yesterday that it’s customary for other students to bring flowers for their friends who perform as congratulatory gifts, so I stopped by Kanae-san’s flower shop after school today to get some for her...”

Nezuko immediately reaches for his bag, and Tanjirou holds it high out of her reach, suddenly feeling embarrassed for no reason at all. “What flowers did you get her?” Nezuko chirps, waving her hands high in the air as she attempts to get a look. “Please don’t tell me you got her a head of cabbage or, god forbid, a broccoli flower. Knowing you, brother…”

“Hey! What’s that supposed to mean?”

Finally giving up on trying to get her hands on Tanjirou’s mystery bouquet, Nezuko only pouts and relents. “Well, since you’ve got flowers to give to Hayami, let’s head backstage! I know a few friends in the drama club who performed today, so they’ll let us in.” Tanjirou frowns a little at how excited his younger sister seems to be in his place.

“It’s almost as if you’re the one giving the flowers to Hayami,” he says. Nezuko beams at him.

“Of course I have to be involved on your behalf, brother!” She explains, her smile all too wide to be innocent, before she leans in to nudge his side and give him a subtle wink. “Just remember to mention me as your wingwoman during your speech on your wedding day, got it?”

Tanjirou groans.

>>>

Backstage is more chaotic than Tanjirou would have thought.

Even though the performance is already over, participants still rush to and fro different rooms, their arms laden with crumpled costumes or props, faces still done with dramatic stage makeup that looks rather strange in the lighting of the corridors. Nezuko leads Tanjirou down to where the dance club’s room is supposed to be, coaching him on how to present a girl properly with flowers with words of advice such as, “don’t do anything Zenitsu-san would do” and “brother, why didn’t you dress up a little for today’s performance”. After reassuring her for the third time that, no, he hadn’t let Inosuke chomp on his bouquet (although the boy had tried to earlier), Nezuko comes to a stop outside an unassuming room at the very end of the corridor.

The paper stuck on the door reads ‘dance club’, the blank spaces decorated with smiley faces and hearts in various doodling styles. He recognises the wink done in purple ink as one done by Hayami’s hand, and a slight smile touches his lips at the sight of it. He’s seen it many times before - left scrawled in the corner of his exercise books when he visits the maid cafe and on post-its during exam periods - so he recognises her handwriting almost instantly.

“Your hair is awful,” Nezuko complains, reaching out to flatten the top of his hair. His hair looks the same as it always has, but it apparently doesn’t quite pass Nezuko’s standards, so he’s forced to stand stock still with his sister trying to fix his hairdo as people walk by. “You could have thought to dress up a little for today, you know?”

Tanjirou frowns, confused. “For what occasion?”

“You, brother,” Nezuko says delicately as she arranges his bangs, “are so dumb sometimes.”

“What do you mean-”

“Unfortunately, that’s the best I can do right now, and we really need to get going before the dance club needs to leave.” Both hands on his shoulders, Nezuko steers him to the door of the dance club before shoving something into his hand. When he looks down, he’s surprised to see himself holding a bouquet of light purple lilies - when had Nezuko taken them from his bag? “Come on, brother! It’s time to shoot your shot! Make Hayami yours! Put a ring on her-”

“I am not proposing, wait, I’m not even confessing to her!” Tanjirou cries, suddenly panicked. Confessing? He doesn’t even know how she feels about him that way! “I’m just giving her some flowers, like Zenitsu told me to do-”

Behind the two of them, the door suddenly swings open.

“Hey, what’s with all the racket right outside our door? If you have something to say, just-” Tanjirou’s wide eyes meet Hayami’s, and for a moment, the two of them simply stare at each other in surprise. Hayami still hasn’t removed her stage makeup, her lips painted crimson red and bold eyeliner only accentuating her clear lilac eyes.

She looks stunning.

“Oh, Tanjirou, Nezuko, I was just about to go find the two of you myself!” Hayami is talking, but Tanjirou doesn’t really hear her words, a deer caught in the headlights and the lilies growing all too weighty in his hands. “I hope you guys liked the performance! We had to rush to change the formations today since one of the members got sick, so I hope it wasn’t too noticeable.”

“I didn’t even notice, that was amazing!” Nezuko smiles, reaching out to squeeze Hayami’s hands reassuringly. “I really loved the performance, and all the song choices! Keep a spot for me in the team when I finally get to high school, yeah? Or better yet, how about you teach me dance? You were so cool today, I really want to be able to dance like that in the future!”

“Oh, it’s nothing much,” Hayami says bashfully, twirling a lock of platinum hair around her finger. Tanjirou catches a hint of a rosy blush on her cheeks. So cute... “I’m sure you’ll be able to do it if you just try!”

Next to him, Nezuko nudges him in the side and gives the flowers in his hands a meaningful look.

“Oh, right,” Tanjirou fumbles over his words, mind seemingly blank. Flowers. “Uhm, Zenitsu said that I should bring flowers as a congratulatory gift when there are friends performing, so…” He holds out the bouquet, and Hayami’s eyes widen in surprise, seemingly noticing it for the first time. Tanjirou can feel his own cheeks burning. “You looked amazing on the stage today, Hayami.”

Hayami looks down at the small bouquet of lilies in his hands for a moment, before she breaks out into an incandescent smile, almost too bright for Tanjirou to look at. “Thank you,” she says, reaching out to take the bouquet. “I’ll take care of them-”

“Darling!”

Right before Hayami can take the bouquet, a taller figure sweeps past Tanjirou with long, confident strides - making a beeline straight towards Hayami - and plops a massive bouquet of red roses into her outstretched hands. “For you!”

He’s tall, taller than Hayami, with dark hair and matching eyes that shine with mirth. His ears are pierced with little black hoops. Tanjirou thinks he’s seen him around a few times before, constantly surrounded by different people while he remains the nucleus of the conversation. Who is he? From his athletic build and height to the easy way he carries himself, light on the balls of his feet… a sports player, perhaps?

“Hey!” Nezuko protests, possibly indignant at watching her brother’s future romantic relations being ruined on the spot, but Tanjirou doesn’t notice, eyes fixed on the newcomer with a furrowed brow. While Tanjirou normally tries to be patient and polite with everyone he meets (save for his first meeting with Inosuke, but to be fair, the boy had thought that Nezuko had stolen something from him), but he can’t help the strange awkwardness he feels around the taller boy. A little rude, but he seems to know Hayami, so…

“Ginjiro, you shouldn’t have,” Hayami lets out a sigh as she looks over at the bouquet. Her fingertips trace the velvet petals. “How much did this cost? A kidney on the black market?”

“Not quite, but close enough!” The boy, Ginjiro, grins wolfishly at her. There’s a sort of… easygoing, unruly charm to him that Tanjirou can’t quite put his finger on, but he can see why the boy is so popular. “Ninety-nine whole Ecuadorian roses! I’m sure you know what that number means, my dear Hayami.”

Hayami rolls her eyes, shaking her head, but she doesn’t look very put off by his blatant flirting, much to Tanjirou’s surprise and slight unease.

“Ninety nine roses… doesn’t that mean eternal love? Usually given to romantic partners…” Nezuko mutters from behind him, and Tanjirou feels his heart drop in his chest. His sister turns to Hayami, eyes wide with shock. “Hayami, don’t tell me this… guy is your boyfriend?”

“No,” Hayami says flatly, just as Ginjiro sings, “Not yet!” and proceeds to laugh merrily as if he hasn’t just declared his intentions to date Hayami in front of them all. To Tanjirou’s shock, Hayami simply sighs and places a hand on her forehead before turning back to him.

“Ignore him, he’s an idiot.” Hayami tells Tanjirou, attempting a smile to lighten the mood. Try as he might, however, Tanjirou just can’t seem to bring himself to give a genuine one in return. “Let me take those flowers from you. I’m really grateful that you made the time to come today, I know how busy you are at the bakery.”

Even as she does take the flowers from him, Tanjirou can’t help but feel that his lilies are dwarfed in comparison by Ginjiro’s scarlet bouquet, crimson red overpowering the delicate lilac. Tanjirou isn’t one to feel ashamed of his family’s financial situation, but in times like this… he can’t help but feel uncomfortable with the wealth displayed in front of him. And for Hayami to not even bat an eyelash, but seem so completely unimpressed...

The gap between him and Hayami seems to grow just a little wider.

“Anyways, I booked a table at the rooftop restaurant you like, just for the two of us,” Ginjiro continues, without giving Tanjirou a single second to speak. “Let’s go hang out, you’ve been so busy the past few weeks… it’s as if I haven’t seen your face at all for months! I am feeling extremely neglected.”

“It’s because I’ve been busy with planning the dance performance,” Hayami retorts with a shake of the head. “Besides, didn’t you just crash the Student Council meeting yesterday just to steal some snacks off me? Don’t lie about neglect, you little ass.”

“What?” Ginjiro puts a hand over his chest, batting his eyelashes so furiously Tanjirou wonders if they’ll fall off. “You know it’s because I missed you, Hayami dear.”

Tanjirou does not know how to act - not when another man is so clearly vying for Hayami’s attention. If he were making Hayami uncomfortable in any way, Tanjirou would have been more than happy to see him off, but Hayami seems to know him, and actually seems… rather close to him.

It makes Tanjirou slightly uncomfortable.

“Oh right, Tanjirou, Nezuko, you haven’t met Ginjiro before, have you?” Hayami says. Stiffly, Tanjirou nods in agreement, but Nezuko pipes up.

“You’re Sato Ginjiro, aren’t you? Captain of the basketball club? I heard Zenitsu complaining about him before, saying that he’s too popular with the girls.” She mutters, folding her arms over her chest and Ginjiro grins widely as Hayami only rolls her eyes. “He’s got quite a… reputation.”

As if trying to ease the awkwardness in the air, Hayami only gives a placating smile, stepping between the two of them. “Right, that’s Ginjiro for you. He’s one of my friends from back since middle school, but he can be overbearing sometimes.” Ginjiro gives a dramatic gasp, acting offended, which Hayami pays no attention to. She then gestures at the siblings, eyes softening slightly as they fall on Tanjirou. “Ginjiro, these are Tanjirou and Nezuko, both dear friends of mine. Nezuko is Tanjirou’s younger brother, still in high school, so you might not have seen her around before. I hope that you all get along.”

That might be a little difficult, Tanjirou’s lips press together uneasily. Nezuko, who’s far more vocal about her opinions, pouts openly. “I don’t want to-”

“Wow, didn’t know that even the middle school kids knew about me,” Ginjiro laughs, and out of the corner of his eye, Tanjirou catches Nezuko making a face. “Only good things, I hope?”

“Hmph, just so that you know, Hayami-” Nezuko begins, but before she can say any more, Tanjirou tugs at her arm lightly, stopping her words in her tracks.

“We should be leaving first, we need to catch the last bus home before it’s too late.” Tanjirou interjects quickly, giving Hayami and Ginjiro an apologetic smile that seems just a hint forced. Nezuko looks like she wants to argue, but a stern look from her older brother has her falling quiet. “I hope you enjoy your dinner later.”

Ginjiro doesn’t seem to notice the tightness of Tanjirou’s mouth nor the reason behind Nezuko’s sulking, only grinning in response. “Oh yeah, we definitely will! The restaurant is a Michelin star that Hayami’s been wanting to try for ages, so I had to tip the receptionist extra to get a reservation. Still,” he winks at Hayami, who only sighs in response, “anything for my dearest Hayami, don’t you think?”

“You’re always like this,” Hayami complains, and Ginjiro laughs, oblivious to the siblings’ discomfort. It feels as though they’re intruding, and Tanjirou would hate to do that if Hayami really did have feelings for her, well, long time friend. Turning to Tanjirou and Nezuko, Hayami frowns a little. “Sorry, I intended on spending some time with the two of you after the performance, but the restaurant’s booking is really, really expensive…”

“It’s no problem.” The words taste wooden in Tanjirou’s mouth but he forces them out, along with the reassuring smile on his face. “I’ll see you next Monday at school, then.”

Ginjiro steps forward, his ever present grin on his face as he extends a hand to Tanjirou. “It was nice meeting you.” As Tanjirou grasps his hand to shake, he swears that Ginjiro squeezes just a little harder than what would be polite. His smile seems more reminiscent of a smirk now. Tanjirou has to bite back a slight wince. “Hope to see you around, buddy.”

He doesn’t sound like he means what he says.

“Let’s go, Nezuko.” With a last wave at Hayami, Tanjirou turns on his heel and walks away from the two of them, Nezuko hurrying to catch up with her brother’s longer strides. Behind them, Hayami bites her bottom lip, wondering what on earth has just happened in front of her earlier. For her own sanity, it would probably be a good idea to keep Ginjiro and Tanjirou very far apart...

“So, shall we get going, darling Hayami?” Ginjiro turns around to look at Hayami, who quickly banishes the pensive expression on her face. Yes, Ginjiro might be an ass and his flirting might be overbearing at times (all the time), but he’s still one of her good friends, and he’s done so much for her too. With a sigh, she can only shake her head. “Don’t bully Tanjirou, okay?”

Ginjiro shrugs airily. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.” Reaching out, he tugs at her wrist. “Come on, let’s go! They have these artisanal doughnuts that I am absolutely dying for you to try… And of course, it’s my treat!”

Hayami allows Ginjiro to pull her by the hand to his car, but for the rest of the night she can’t help but think of the slightly bitter expression on Tanjirou’s face as he walked away earlier, and how she’s never seen him make such a face before. Slight worry builds up in her as she wonders if she’s done something to upset the ever placid Tanjirou, and Hayami makes up her mind to ask him about it come Monday.

But for now, even the doughnuts don’t taste as sweet.

>>>

Hayami does not get to ask Tanjirou anything come Monday, mainly because Ginjiro does not seem to have any intention of leaving her side and giving her and Tanjirou some alone time. The second her classes are over, Ginjiro appears at the door to walk her to the next, chattering to her excitedly about his new modelling gig and whatnot, and Hayami is far too polite to interrupt when he’s talking about something he’s clearly so passionate about.

It doesn’t help that Ginjiro is suddenly being a lot more…. flirty than usual, with an abundance of sweet and suggestive words paired with a lot of indecent hands that she’s had to slap away. She’s used to this sort of behaviour from Ginjiro, having known him for so long, but today seems more… excessive. Hayami doesn’t know what exactly is up with the boy.

Out of the corner of her eye, she can sometimes see a head of chestnut hair lingering behind pillars or around the bends at corridors, but the second she tries to approach it, Ginjiro either steers her attention away, or the person she’s increasingly desperate to talk to vanishes of his own volition. Tanjirou can’t possibly be avoiding her, can he? Worry gnaws at her insides, even as she sits down to have lunch with Ginjiro in the canteen.

What if he really doesn’t like Ginjiro?

Looking down at her food, Hayami chews on her bottom lip. Today morning has killed her appetite completely, to the point she almost doesn’t feel like eating anything. Still, she already skipped breakfast because she overslept, and it wouldn’t be healthy to miss two meals in a row…

Taking her hesitation for dislike, Ginjiro nudges her in the shoulder. “What’s the matter? Don’t like your bento today?” Hurriedly, Hayami shakes her head, moving to pick up her chopsticks.

“Oh, no, no, I was just spacing out,” she says, but Ginjiro only raises an eyebrow, the perceptive little bastard.

“Well, I have some strawberry mochi here for you, if you want something for your sweet tooth,” Ginjiro smiles, picking up the sweet and holding it up to her lips. Hayami stares at him with an exasperated face, but Ginjiro doesn’t let up. “Come on, Hayami dear. Say ahh-”

“Here, have some takoyaki, Hayami,” someone interrupts all of a sudden, and Hayami looks down to see a round octopus ball being put on her bento. Glancing up in surprise, Hayami is shocked to see the very person that she’s been trying to find all day - Tanjirou. If Tanjirou notices how shocked she is, he doesn’t mention it, only sliding into the seat next to her with his usual placid smile on his face. “I made that this morning myself. Try some and tell me what you think.”

“W-Where’s Inosuke and Zenitsu?” Why is she stuttering? “Don’t you usually have lunch with them?”

“Zenitsu had to go for remedials with Rengoku-sensei, and Inosuke wanted to try catching some of the fish in the school pond,” Tanjirou tells her calmly as he sets down his bento next to hers. Vaguely, Hayami wonders if she should inform Aoi about this so that the discipline council can stop the boar headed boy before the fish meet their ill fates, but then decides it’s better to pretend she never knew about it in the first place. Ignorance is bliss, after all. “Since I was left alone, I thought that I should join you for lunch, Hayami.” Tanjirou smiles politely at Ginjiro, who’s wearing an unusually stoic expression. “I didn’t expect you to be here, Ginjiro-san. I hope you don’t mind me intruding.”

“Not at all,” Ginjiro replies before Hayami can. Although he’s still wearing an easygoing smile, it’s one that he wears around prospective business clients he doesn’t like or when he meets with Hayami’s parents - not a genuine one in the least. “Please, feel free to sit with us. It wouldn’t be right of me to be possessive over a girl I’m not dating yet, would it?”

At Ginjiro’s goading tone, both boys’ eyes lock and Hayami feels electricity rise in the air, static prickling along her skin. Awkwardly, she picks up the takoyaki and puts it in her mouth. It does taste good, but she can’t really enjoy the savoury flavour when this is happening right in front of her.

“Right, just as it wouldn’t be to be possessive over friends, like you and Hayami. Don’t you agree?” Tanjirou says calmly, reaching for his sandwich. Ginjiro’s eye twitches at Tanjirou’s provocative words, but he keeps his cool. Hayami doesn’t understand what is going on.

“That’s true, although Hayami and I are more than just friends,” Ginjiro answers. Hayami frowns, opening her mouth to clarify Ginjiro’s words, but Tanjirou cuts across before she can answer.

“Oh? The two of you must be so close that she sees you as a brother, then. That’s really admirable.”

“You too. Hayami always tells me about how you take care of her like how you take care of your younger sister.”

At a total loss to what’s happening, Hayami slumps back in her seat, feeling the beginnings of a migraine coming on. Watching the two of them take verbal snipes at each other is somehow even less pleasant than watching her parents squabble, so she only gives up and shakes her head, letting them duke it out on their own terms.

Men, she thinks with a sigh. Hopefully, this will wear off by the end of the week.

>>>

Much to Hayami’s exhaustion, it doesn’t end there.

As if that little meeting had only spurred on their competitive urge, Ginjiro and Tanjirou both have started acting very differently from what they’re usually like. On one hand, Ginjiro has turned unbearably flirty, constantly dropping suggestive one liners and his hands somehow always finding their way to her in Tanjirou’s presence. On the other hand, Tanjirou has become excessively helpful whenever Ginjiro is around, offering to help her carry books or papers between classes. While his altruistic personality is something that Hayami has always admired, this goes far beyond what she’s used to.

Ginjiro and Tanjirou only act like this in each other’s presences, though, so Hayami works out that there must be some sort of tension between them - whether they’ve fought before or they just don’t like each others’ faces, Hayami doesn’t know. All she knows is that she doesn’t like being caught in the middle of this.

Which is why she will try her best to avoid having both of them meet, instead choosing to only hang out with one of them at the time. Today, Tanjirou has offered to help her clean the student council room (after Aoi had accidentally let this slip in the corridors), hence here they are, Hayami finally getting to enjoy Tanjirou’s presence for the first time in the entire week.

It’s already the end of the week, and Hayami realises that this is the first time she’s managed to get Tanjirou alone… without Ginjiro butting in some way or another.

When he’s not trying to one up Ginjiro at whatever little game they’re playing, Tanjirou’s presence is as soothing as a gentle summer breeze on a hot day. Instead of being overbearingly nice, with those strange half smiles and hard eyes directed at Ginjiro, his mouth is tilted in a slight, content smile as he wipes at the desk with a cloth, pausing occasionally to sweep his chestnut hair back from his forehead.

“Hayami, you missed a spot here,” Tanjirou points at the corner of the window, and Hayami startles out of her thoughts, suddenly very aware that she was staring. Quickly, she hurries to bring her cloth to the area, but finds it too high for her to reach. Her height has failed her.

Moving to stand on her tiptoes, she tries again, the cloth just inches from the spot of dust on the window. Slightly embarrassed now, Hayami turns to Tanjirou and gives him the most pitiful expression she can muster. The boy’s laugh is gentle, and the sound makes Hayami’s heart flutter in her chest.

“It’s no problem,” Tanjirou tells her, moving towards the back of the room. “I’ll just grab a stepladder from the storage room that we can use.”

“Thanks, Tanjirou!” Hayami calls after him, smiling. Right, this is the pleasant, well mannered Tanjirou that she knows.

“Hey, Hayami-chan, cleaning the council room again?”

At the sound of Ginjiro’s voice, Hayami has to bite back a groan, forcing a suitable smile onto her face as she turns around to face her friend. As usual, one of his hands comes up to rest on her shoulder and she has to fight the urge to bat it away. What is he doing here?

“Yeah, I was rostered for cleanup today since I drew the short end of the stick at the last council meeting. And you,” she pokes his shoulder hard with a finger to emphasize her point, “are not supposed to be in the student council room without express permission from a teacher. Who did you get caught by the last time you were in here, Shinazugawa-sensei?”

Ginjiro’s unflappable grin falters a little at that, looking more like a wince now. “That man chased me all the way to the school gates, I swear my ass was black and blue by the time he let me go.” Hayami rolls her eyes. “ ‘sides, I saw you cleaning the windows from the ground floor and thought I’d give you a hand. Aren’t I perfect boyfriend material?”

Hayami scoffs, fighting the urge to smack him. When on earth will he cool it with the flirty lines?

“Perfect pervert material, more like. It’s your own fault for giving yourself such an awful reputation for peeping.” Shaking her head, Hayami busies herself wringing out the cloth in her hands before returning her attention to the window behind her. When she does, however, she spots Tanjirou standing there with a stepladder in his hands, lips drawn into a tight line as he stares down Ginjiro.

He does not look pleased to see the older boy there.

As if noticing him for the first time, Ginjiro raises a hand in greeting before Hayami can intervene, a sly smile growing on his lips. “Hey, Tanjirou! Coincidence seeing you here.”

“Coincidence, much?” Hayami mumbles under her breath, exasperated. Can they please just let off for five minutes and let her clean her windows in peace? Shaking her head, she turns around to face the window so that she doesn’t have to look at either of them. Why can’t she just reach that spot?

“It’s a coincidence seeing you here too, Ginjiro-san.” Tanjirou’s voice is clipped. “I was just helping Hayami clean the student council room today. What are you doing here?”

You’re not supposed to be here, Hayami can hear the underlying meaning to his words. And while she does agree that Ginjiro really needs to stop sneaking into the student council room as and when he likes, Hayami feels like Tanjirou is being a little too hostile towards her friend.

“Oh, I was just coming by to ask Hayami something, but I guess I could help with the cleaning too.” To Hayami’s surprise, the cloth in her hands is suddenly plucked out of her grasp. Turning around, she sees Ginjiro standing there with a grin. “Here, let me help you out. I’m perfect boyfriend material, remember?”

Hayami is about to argue that Tanjirou is right there with a stepladder, but Ginjiro is already leaning forward to wipe at the window without giving her any time to move out of the way. As a result, Hayami ends up caught between the glass panes of the window and Ginjiro’s front, far too close for her liking.

“I can’t believe that for all your height, you’re still shorter than me,” Ginjiro teases in a sing-song voice, leaning over to wipe at the window. Part of her swears that he’s doing this on purpose, the little bastard. Hayami scowls, pushing at his chest with both hands in annoyance.

“Wait, Ginjiro,” Hayami snaps, patience quickly running out. “Get out of the way and let me out before-”

There’s a sudden crash behind both of them, and Ginjiro and Hayami whirl around to see Tanjirou standing there with a tense expression on his face. The stepladder lies at his feet, but he makes no move to pick it up.

For a moment, Hayami wonders if Tanjirou might say something unkind - the look on his face is truly something to behold. Tanjirou’s usually good at controlling his emotions (how else would he be able to put up with both Inosuke and Zenitsu at the same time), but this time, he doesn’t seem to be faring as well at reigning in his emotions. Ginjiro, on the other hand, doesn’t seem to notice just how much he’s managed to rile Tanjirou up, instead slinging one arm over Hayami’s shoulder.

“Right, Hayami, I wanted to ask if you’d like to come over to my house later after this. I’ve got some problems with literature homework, I just don’t get Macbeth.” Grinning, he nudges Hayami in the side. “We can catch a movie after, too. Sounds nice, doesn’t it? It’s a weekend tomorrow, and I’m sure your parents wouldn’t mind if you slept over at my house for the night.”

“I-” Hayami begins to say, but is interrupted by Tanjirou.

“Hayami usually comes over to my house on Friday nights, so I don’t think she’ll be able to go with you,” Tanjirou says tersely. Hayami frowns. She was about to say that herself, sure, but the fact that Tanjirou is speaking for her instead leaves her indignant. Hayami can speak for herself. “My mother’s already cooked for her, and besides,” he turns to her, “Nezuko misses you too. She says she hasn’t seen you for the entire week. Hanako, Shigeru, Rokuta, especially.”

Well, Hayami has been busy planning the next dance performance - it’s competition season for the performing arts, so she hasn’t had the time to go over to Tanjirou’s house as often as she likes. Still-

“Masako misses you too,” Ginjiro interjects, before Hayami can get a word in once more. “You know how my little sister is, she adores you. Besides, you’ve known my family longer, haven’t you? You should come with me, I’m sure you can visit Tanjirou’s family another day.”

At that statement, Hayami can feel her temper starting to rise. For Ginjiro to claim that his sister misses her is one thing, but to bring up their friendship to strong-arm Tanjirou’s aside is a huge no-no for her.

“I-”

“What exactly,” Tanjirou’s voice is completely level, and Hayami nearly has to bite back a shiver at his cold tone, “are you trying to imply here, Sato Ginjiro?”

She’s never heard Tanjirou like that before.

Ginjiro scoffs, shaking his head, that easygoing smile dropping to reveal a face full of seething jealousy. “Look here, Kamado, you’re the one who brought up the topic of family first. As if you weren’t trying to manipulate Hayami into visiting your house for your own gain-”

“Enough!”

At the sound of Hayami snapping, both boys immediately shut up. Hayami’s arms are folded over her chest, teeth gritted, and she pauses a moment to take a deep breath before she starts laying it all on the two of them.

“The two of you have been unbearable this entire week! I don’t care about whatever is going on between the two of you, but don’t you drag me into this! I already have my own issues with the dance performance coming up, and my parents,” she has to fight back tears at this point, the words simply spilling out of her as if a dam has broken somewhere inside of her, “are coming home sometime next week! I’m already massively stressed, and I don’t need the two of you adding on to it! So if the two of you aren’t done with your petty little argument, then I’m leaving first!”

With that, she storms out of the student council room, too angry and tired from her little rant to think too much about what she’s just said. Behind her, Ginjiro and Tanjirou stare after her back in shock at her little outburst, too stunned to respond.

Out of nowhere, the shrill sound of a ringtone fills the air between the two of them. Ginjiro fumbles to pick up his phone, pressing it to his ear.

“Masako? Yeah, yeah… I’ll buy some sushi for you on the way home. You’re hungry right now? Alright, I’m coming…” When he hangs up, Ginjiro gives Tanjirou a look out of the corner of his eye, the air between them so thick with awkwardness Tanjirou thinks he could choke on it.

“Okay, look, man, I shouldn’t have said what I said earlier.” Ginjiro says all of a sudden, words stilted as he fumbles with them. Tanjirou looks at him in surprise for a moment, before he sighs and relents.

“I get it. For what it’s worth, I’m… sorry for what’s been happening the past week.” Ginjiro gives an awkward laugh in response, before moving towards the door.

“Well, I gotta go now, so…” He purses his lips, glancing over at the Hayami’s bag on the table. “Could you take that to Hayami and tell her I’m sorry?”

“I got it.” Tanjirou watches as Ginjiro makes a face, as if he wants to say something, but he apparently decides against it and simply leaves without another word. Once left alone in the student council room, Tanjirou runs a hand through his hair and lets out a long, heavy exhale. What exactly came over him just now?

Regardless of whatever it was, it was still unacceptable behaviour for him, and Tanjirou knows that he needs to apologise. With a sigh, he picks up Hayami’s bag and moves towards the door, intent on clearing up this mess before he heads home for the day.

She’s nowhere to be seen, but Tanjirou has a feeling that he knows just where she is.

Walking out of the school gates, he makes his way towards a small neighbourhood playground nearby. And sure enough, beneath the large cedar tree that flourishes there, he sees Hayami sitting beneath it with her knees drawn to her chest, her chin resting on her knees. Her hair is undone, and slightly messy from where she must have run her fingers through it in frustration.

Tanjirou feels awful, but he continues to step towards her. If Hayami notices his presence, she doesn’t say anything, not even when Tanjirou moves to take a seat beside her, but neither does she tell him to leave her alone. He decides to see that as a positive.

“Your bag,” Tanjirou offers, setting down her bag next to her. Peeking up, Hayami gives the bag a look before she buries her face in her knees again.

“Thanks.” Short and curt. But not… angry. That sends relief flooding through Tanjirou, and gives him the courage to do what he came here to do.

“I’m sorry,” he offers meekly, but his words and intentions are genuine. For a moment, Hayami doesn’t respond, but eventually she seems to relax just a little before she speaks.

“Yeah, I’m sorry too… for blowing up like that.”

Tanjirou winces as he recalls Hayami’s anger on full display. “Well, we deserved it,” he tells her honestly, and Hayami turns her head so that she can pin him with a stare.

“I don’t blame you for being so tense, Ginjiro is unbearable at times and I completely understand that.” Tanjirou can’t help but nod along as Hayami speaks. “But I really didn’t know why you weren’t just… I don’t know, ignoring his antics or whatever! Surely you know better than to play into his hands?”

Tanjirou presses his lips into a line as he thinks about all the times during this past week that Ginjiro has put his hands on Hayami, or tried to monopolize her time, and the same, irksome feeling rises up in him once more. Ah, Tanjirou’s eyes widen in realisation. It was-

When he glances up, Hayami is still looking at him, waiting for an answer. However, Tanjirou can only give a slight smile, and shakes his head.

“Sorry,” he says. “I don’t know what came over me. It won’t happen again.”

“I hope it doesn’t,” Hayami huffs, but Tanjirou can tell that she’s calmed down now. Both of them sit in silence for a moment, until Tanjirou feels something tugging gently at his sleeve. Turning around, he looks at Hayami, who’s glancing away towards the playground where the children are running about, the sounds of their laughter filling the air. There’s slight colour dancing along her cheeks, but Tanjirou can’t tell whether it’s from the light of the setting sun or something else...

“Still,” she begins to say, looking slightly hesitant, and Tanjirou tilts his head to the side as he waits for her to continue. “Still… Can we go to your house for dinner? I mean, it’s like you said, I miss Rokuta and Hanako, and the rest of them as well…”

Tanjirou laughs. “Of course we can. You’re always welcome at my home, remember?” Rising to his feet, he extends one hand to Hayami. “Come on, Hayami.”

Hayami blinks at his hand before she reaches out to take it. Her fingers wrap around his calloused ones, and he hoists her to her feet. “We should hurry. Mother cooked takoyaki and karaage for dinner tonight, so if we don’t hurry, Nezuko and Takeo will eat them all.”

Hayami’s eyes widen at the sound of Kie’s home cooking waiting for her. “What? Why didn’t you tell me?” Tightening her hold on Tanjirou’s hand, she pulls him down the road towards his house. “Let’s go! Let’s go!”

Tanjirou only smiles, and follows Hayami with slower, steadier steps as she practically skips down the road. Although this storm has blown over without much incident, Tanjirou is more than aware that these affections for Hayami will only continue to grow with the passing of time.

He really should tell Hayami about these feelings that he has for her soon.

[highonchocolate]

Take Two: The Guardian in Gotham Chapter 12

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He’s a little boy again, laughing and racing through the halls of the Mansion, surrounded by the auburn warmth and love of his mother. Her green eyes, so similar to his own, sparkle down at him as she smiles. He reaches out for her, beaming hopefully, but as soon as he touches her, she crumbles, form blurring and fading. The warmth around him vanishes with her, and then he is alone. Stuck in the cold, silent, Mansion, a gilded cage for him to perform like an exhibit on display. He almost never catches a glimpse of his father, seeing more of Nathalie than him. Piano, fencing, Mandarin, photoshoots, the never ending cycle of activities goes on and on. He is a puppet, a doll. Dancing to their tune. He meets Ladybug, bounding across the rooftops, and the warmth sparks anew. It’s a different kind of heat, red, not the oranges and yellows of before, but still bright. He jokes and laughs, and keeps quiet to preserve the peace. Then, their identities are revealed and his world comes crashing down again. Chloé tells him about sexual harassment, screaming at him for being such an asshole to Mari, and he feels the familiar, numbing, cold creeping up his spine. What had he done?! He...had done… He goes to Ladybug-Marinette-and gets on his knees and apologizes. He apologizes for being too loud as Chat and too quiet as Adrien. He apologizes for not being there, for leaving her struggling in both aspects of her life, just so he could keep the warmth a little longer. But she smiles at him, and says they’ll work on it, and the fire blazes anew. He still loves her, but not in the same way. She is his sister, his sibling, someone to care for, and protect. She is not his lover, but his friend, and somehow, that's all he ever wanted.

--- He opens his eyes with a nostalgic smile on his lips. His eyes are wet, and he tastes salt on his tongue. He reaches out to his other half, his family, and she reaches back, grabbing him in a tight embrace. He hears the green hero telling him he’s not an enemy, but he ignores him, clutching Marinette like a lifeline. As Chloe steps forward, he loosens his hug, keeping his arm around her shoulders instead and turns to watch. She saw how they cried, relieving whatever horrific memories they had been subjected to. As she squeezed her eyes shut, blackness enveloping her, she couldn’t help but feel the familiar tingle of fear wrapping around her like a cloak. --- She is five again, watching as Mommy and Daddy scream at each other. Mommy’s mouth is open in a snarl, and Chloé can’t help but think she looks like a scary monster from her bedtime stories. The one that eats people. Seven years old, and every day they’re yelling at each other, screaming and shouting mean words in the other room. She hears Mommy say ‘This was all a mistake!’ And she huddles under her blankets, pulling Mr. Cuddly closer to her chest. She hears a door slam, and her Mommy is marching away to the helicopter, and there are suitcases being loaded inside. She sees her yellow suitcase is not in the pile, and Daddy is still standing on the roof, not in the helicopter. Her heart skips a beat and she clutches Mr. Cuddly even tighter as she stands beside Daddy and watches Mommy fly away. Does Mommy not love me anymore? She is eight and her Daddy is running for Mayor. He’s too busy to spend time with her, so he buys her a phone to say sorry. She takes it, but there is a weird feeling in her chest, like something is missing, and it doesn’t disappear as she sits alone in her room, playing some mindless game. Nine, ten, eleven, twelve. Daddy spends less and less time with her, buying more and more gifts to try and make up for his absence. The gifts fill her room, but they don’t fill the empty space in her heart. Sabrina tries, but Chloé knows she doesn’t really like her. She’s only doing it because Chloé gives her gifts too. Then Marinette comes along, and Chloé feels her hatred grow. How come her parents spend time with her?! What makes her so special? ... Why don’t my parents spend time with me? So she huffs and bullies and wraps herself in a cloak of thorns, keeping everyone at arms distance so that she won’t be let down and left alone again. She has Adrien, of course, but she knows she is using him. And he lets her use him, moving through the motions like a doll. 

Then Ladybug soars through the sky, catching her as she plummets from Stoneheart’s grasp, high above. Bright blue eyes and signature red, and Chloé watches from below as she flies, wishes and dreams kept secreted away in her heart. 

She finds Pollen’s comb, and suddenly her wildest dreams have sprang to life. She is a superhero! She can stand beside Ladybug and Chat Noir, and everyone will love her and her parents will be proud, and maybe now they’ll stay…But Ladybug is mad, and everyone hates her, and she knows Mommy Mother is already disappointed. So she carves a wall of ice and frost around her heart, and wraps her thorned cloak tighter around herself.

And then a Miracle happens, and Ladybug forgives her, and adds her to the team permanently. And they reveal their identities, and she apologizes to Marinette and Adrien because she knows she was wrong, and they give her a second chance. 

And her heart is racing and she can’t hear properly because the only thing she can understand now is the simple thought running through her brain over and over.

Permanently? They’re staying? I’m staying? They won’t leave me..?

And they are a family now, and she is loved, and there is Kagami, looking at her with that knowing glint in those deep brown eyes, reaching over to pull her into the warmth of her arms, and finally, finally, that empty space is full again. 

---

She saw the familiar darkness of her closed eyelids again, signaling the mind search was over, but she kept them shut for a moment longer, savoring the memories, the love. Only, she didn’t need to savor them, she remembered, because they were right here.

And so she opened her eyes, and saw her friends standing right there, arms already outstretched to pull her into their comforting embrace. Grinning, she let two sparkling tears roll down her cheeks. Only two, for the childhood she never fully had, and the family she finally found. 

Kagami was a creature of discipline, and as she closed her eyes, she willed her breath to stay even, her heart to continue its pulse, and her hands to remain steady. 

---

“Again!” Her mother’s harsh demand cracked through the air like a whip, sending ice skittering down her spine. Her face stung from where it had scraped on the concrete, it’s cold temperature soothing her scratched skin. Her arms trembled, refusing to bear her weight as she struggled to push herself up in time to block the next blow from her mother’s boken. With a grunt, she parried and thrust, only to fall flat on her back with a grunt.

“Again!”

A whirl of movement, then her knee screamed with pain-

“Again!”

She stood on shaky feet, raising her foil, only to get knocked down seconds later.

“Again!”

“Again!”

“Again!”

So she rose, and she fell, and she rose again.

Nothing she gave was ever enough. She bled, and she cried, and she worked herself to collapse, only to be rewarded with another training session, harsher criticism, and higher standards for her to meet. Nothing she did was ever enough. She was weighed down by the expectations of her mother.

And then she met Adrien, and she knew they were only forced together for their parent’s benefit, but how she longed for his love. For any love.

So she told herself she loved him, and he loved her, ignoring how she felt nothing as she looked into his eyes. She knew she was stubborn, and had a tendency to do things on her own, but even after she messed up as Ryuko Ladybug gave her a second chance.

It was...surprising to say the least. She had expected a scolding, and harsh, cutting, words, but instead she had revived another try, and words of encouragement. She felt a smile tug her lips upward, as she stood and charged into battle. And then, to her surprise, she was given a permanent place on her team. They never expected her to work herself to exhaustion, they accepted what she gave, only pushing her gently. And it was after their identity reveal, when they were talking about romance, and crushes, and that sort of thing did she realize she wasn’t messed up.

“Well, I’m totally bi,” Marinette giggled from where she lounged on a nearby chaise.

“Really? Nice. I’m lesbian as fuck.” Chloé spoke as she braided her hair.

“Ay, it’s a fellow gay!” Luka called from his seat on the floor.

“Aro and Demiace over here my people!” Adrien exclaimed, throwing up peace signs.

“Lesbian? Bi? What do those mean?” Kagami asked from her perch on the bed.

“Oh! Well bisexual is basically me liking men and women, lesbian means you’re a woman that only likes women, gay is a man that only likes men, and aromantic means you feel no romantic attraction towards someone, and demisexual means you need to form a strong emotional connection with someone before experiencing sexual attraction.” Marinette explained.

“Oh,” Kagami frowned in thought. “So it’s not..bad to like other women?” 

“Of course not!” Chloé exclaimed, looking scandalized at the thought.

Her friends had taken it well.

Her mother, however, did not. Although most Japanese were okay with homosexuality, Tomoe Tsurugi wanted a biological heir to continue their bloodline.

“You’re just confused, Kagami. This is why I don’t like you spending time with those friends of yours. They talk about all these things, and suddenly you start thinking that you are like...that. Stop this foolishness at once.”

She hadn’t raised her voice, but the disdain was clear in her tone. And with those words, the fragile shell of joy she had built around herself shattered in the face of rejection.

She opened her eyes, feeling as though someone had reopened her scars and left the wounds bare and bleeding on display.

Her eyes were dry, and the salt of tears was not present on her lips, but she felt bad though she had cried for hours. With a small shudder, she grabbed Chloé’s hand and allowed herself to be pulled into a warm embrace.

And then it was Luka’s turn, and there was no hint of nervousness on his face as he closed his eyes.

---

Scenes burst to life behind his eyelids in a flash of color and sound. He was five again, creeping down the hallway on their boat in the direction of the muffled sobbing emanating from his mother’s cabin. “Maman?” He questions uncertainly, pushing open the door and allowing a thin ray of light to shine on his mother’s tear-streaked face. “Maman are you okay?”

Anarka’s head jerked up at his voice, hands coming up to wipe at her cheeks.“I’m fine, baby. Mama’s just feeling a little sad today. Why don’t you go play with Jules, huh?”

“Okay Maman. I love you!” He walks back to his room on small feet, knowing even then, that his mother’s sadness stemmed from larger problems. Six years old and he still struggles with speaking to other kids. Miss Adeline says he’s just shy, but he isn’t. It’s just hard to find the right words to use. 

So he uses music to speak, and in every strum of his guitar there is a word; in every measure, a sentence; every song is an expression, an exclamation, a lament, that conveys more than words ever could.

He still struggles with the words sometimes, and he focuses on all his friends too much, so sometimes he forgets to focus on himself. But that’s okay, because everyone tells him to be empathetic, and put other people’s needs before his own, so that’s what he does.

And then Ladybug asks him to be Viperion, and he can’t say no. So he accepts, and watches time and time again as his friends and family die before his very eyes, bodies slack, eyes unseeing, blood everywhere. But he knows she can’t bear this burden alone, so he keeps marching on. 

And on.

And on.

He opens his eyes to the still-haunted faces of his friends, looking at him with concern.

He gives them a smile to assure them he is fine, he is not and then turns to Martian Manhunter with a polite expression on his face. “Now that we’re all cleared, what’s next?”

---

@laurcad123, @liquid-luck-00, @toodaloo-kangaroo, @stainedglassm

[with-love-anu]

Not meant to be (3)

PAIRING: Sirius Black x Reader

Series Masterlist

You sat in a quiet place in the library after collecting all the books you thought might be useful for the charms project. There was a tap on your shoulder and you turned to see Sirius looking at you.

“Sirius, oh hi! You’re early.” You said pointing at the time. Sirius shrugged sitting down beside you.

You looked down at the blank parchment. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t look at him for longer than two seconds. He made you nervous.

“(Y/n), I wanted t-“ Sirius started but was interrupted as Remus came in. Sirius clenched his eyes shut. Just the time when he had the courage to finally speak to you.

You three worked quietly on the project for the next few hours. You were mildly surprised when you saw Sirius giving in amazing ideas and you beamed at him. You realized what you were doing and immediately averted your gaze. You couldn’t. Not when he denied having a soulmate, not when he refused to acknowledge you. But would it be so bad? Forgetting about the whole thing for a moment? Your heart thumped in your chest as you continued to write down on the parchment.

Sirius heart swale when you looked at him brightly only to be deflated when you looked away. He wanted to you to look at him like that. It made him want to dance.

“So, today was productive.” Remus said as you all wrapped up.

“It was.” You said smiling.

“Care to join me and Sirius for a trip to the kitchens?” Remus said as your eyes widened slightly. In the kitchens with Sirius?

“Umm.”

“I promise it’s gonna be amazing. Please?” Remus said with such a face that you just couldn’t refuse. And Sirius’s eyes sparkled with hope too, but you didn’t want to admit that it was the reason you finally said yes. It definitely wasn’t.

“Okay.”

***

You all sat down on a small table as the cheerful elves asked what you all wanted.

“Have you ever been to another country?” Remus asked as you smiled taking a bit of the excellent sandwich the elves made.

“Yes, Bali. It’s so beautiful there. It’s calm and serene. The people there lead simple lives and well the trip was amazing.”

“Tell me more.” Remus asked

You launched into a funny story of having monkeys’ jump on your back in the forest at Seminiyak. And somewhere in between all the chat and the laughter you forgot about the whole soulmate thing. Sirius made you happy like no other. His jokes weren’t all childish but consisted of witty and cheeky replies. You couldn’t help the tears that fell as you rolled out grinning.

Sirius reveled in your laughter and everything you told about yourself. He loved that you opened up, if only a little. He realized all of a sudden how thirsty he was to know more about you, your laughter, the way you would wriggle your eyebrows after making a dirty joke. He felt… happy and… free.

“No, you didn’t” Sirius said in between laughs as you grinned.

“Yes I did. I may not seem to strong, but I am.”

“It’s not about strength per say,” Sirius said smiling at you. “It’s about how you didn’t think about yourself first and I think that’s a wonderful thing.”

Your heart thumped at his words. You couldn’t look away. His eyes shone like silver in the light provided by the fire and you felt yourself falling for them. You blinked and gave him a small smile looking away.

“It’s late. I should go now.” You said getting up.

Sirius nodded slowly. He wanted to whine like a child to stop you. He bit the inside of his cheek. He couldn’t.

“Saturday?” he asked looking at you.

“Saturday.”

***

The more you met Sirius, the more you liked him. His smirk, his laugh, the real one when his head would fall back and those stormy eyes would crinkle, when he looked as innocent as a child. You couldn’t help yourself. He was like a magnet drawing you near. You seemed to always almost forget about the mark you hid yourself each day. If this was the closest you could get to Sirius, maybe you’d take this. Because it felt better than nothing. Because you somehow couldn’t stay away. Because your days felt blue when he didn’t smile at you. Because of the unexplainable craving you felt to talk to him, to tell him everything that probed you.

Sebastian noticed this. Of course he did. He wanted to stop you, he really did. But then, he started seeing Sirius, the supposed ‘playboy’ constantly sneak glances at you. Having this huge loopy smile after you even so glimpsed at him. Not even looking at anyone except you. Sirius had stopped flirting around. And Sebastian couldn’t. Because maybe Sirius deserved another chance and maybe because you needed that too.

It was Wednesday. Your walk had a little skip to it and you went towards the library. You saw Remus but there was no sign of Sirius. Your face fell a little.

“Oh hi, (Y/n). Ummm… I don’t think Sirius would come today so it’s going to be just you and me.” Remus said and you frowned.

“Why?”

“He’s not in the right place.” Not in the right place?

“Why, what happened?” you asked and Remus sighed.

“Don’t tell anyone else, okay? Sirius has the shittiest of all parents. They are basically his biggest bullies. He got in a letter today. I could only imagine what filthy words it contained.”

You didn’t know that. You never knew he would be going through something like this. He was always this cheerful and lighthearted person.

“Do you know where he might be?”

“Possibly near the black lake.” Remus said and you gave him an apologetic smile.

“Can we do this next time? I want to talk to Sirius.”

Remus nodded and bit back a smile. “Sure.”

As Remus saw you go out of the library he sighed. Maybe there was still hope for you two after all.

***

You went towards the black lake and saw him sitting under a tree.

“Sirius.” You called out when you were near. He looked at you and you saw how red his eyes were. His face was pale and you felt all happiness suck out of you.

“(Y/n) I’m sorry but I am really not in the mood to study today.” He said and you nodded.

“Don’t worry, I wanted to just talk.” You said as Sirius shut his eyes.

“Yeah, I’m really not in mood for that too.” He quipped. You didn’t know what to do. You couldn’t possibly leave him alone. You sat down beside him noiselessly and looked over to the lake. Sirius looked at you in question and sighed when you didn’t say anything watching the lake’s water ripple. You did not know how time passed. The wind stroked your face and you could hear the distant mumbling of students. You did not want to force Sirius into telling you anything. You saw how he was depressed he was and wanted to offer him support and Sirius respected that.

“Am I really pathetic?” Sirius said out of the blue, sucking in a breath and you looked at him. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“No, you’re not. And I’m not saying this because I was compelled to, but because it’s true.”

“Well mother dearest, certainly doesn’t agree.” He said waving the letter and letting out a dry laugh.

“May I see?” you asked and he handed you the letter. You head zoomed as you read the absolutely disgusting letter you couldn’t believe someone could send, especially his parents.

“Sirius, you know that not a word of this is true, right?”

“According to you.”

“No, according to everyone. Every freaking person who may have met you, if only for a minute.” You gestured to the letter. “Not a word of this is true. This. This is something not meant even for the most gruesome of monsters. And you’re one of the most lovable people around.”

“Loveable, yeah.” He scoffed and you started to realize that maybe Sirius wasn’t the confident person he keeps up to be. You cupped his face and made him look at you. His eyes widened and his heart beat faster. He saw the soft expression you gave him and his heart melted.

“Sirius, you are. You really are. I have a hard time believing someone like that could be your parents. You’re intelligent, witty and an outstanding person overall. Just because they don’t acknowledge it doesn’t mean you aren’t. Stop trying to fit in their narrow structure of mind. You don’t need to. And I am not lying. I promise.”

Sirius bit back the tears. You looped an arm around his shoulder rubbing his side. He took in a shaking breath and looked at you.

“Thank you.” He whispered.

You shook your head.

“Why do you contain yourself so much? Why do you hide your emotions?” you asked and he let out a dry laugh.

“Because people don’t like seeing that. People don’t like seeing a sad broken person.” He murmured. You raised your eyebrows.

“Well, you’re not a thing to look at. You’re human and humans are allowed to have emotions. I would much rather have you full of life and the extremist of emotions than a puppet with none.” Sirius didn’t say anything just looked straight ahead. And yet again, you couldn’t decide what to do. He couldn’t possibly think that. You stood up.

“Come on, come with me.” You said giving him your hand.

“Where?” he looked at you questioningly.

“Just come.”

You took him with you to your favorite part of the forest. You smiled as he looked around in awe.

“This. This is my peace heaven. I come here to scream, to shout, just be an angry brat and vent.” You said and Sirius raised his eyebrows in question.

“It helps, you know, it really does, screaming out loud.” You said as you finally saw a small smile play on his lips. “And you’re gonna do just that.”

Sirius widened his eyes.

“No, no I’m not.”

“Yes you are.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“(Y/n), come on I’m not gonna shout like a bloody maniac.”

“No, you’re gonna scream at the top of your lungs like a complete and utter idiot just like I do. Come on, together” Sirius looked at you as if you had grown two heads. He eventually saw that you weren’t kidding around. He took in a deep breath.

“Fine.” He uttered.

You smiled, performing some silencing spells and counted to 3. You shouted loudly but Sirius didn’t. His voice was hardly louder than for a normal conversation.

“Come on, Sirius you could do better.” You said.

He shouted louder yet, it wasn’t enough.

“That’s pathetic, Sirius. You need to scream. Together, yeah?”

You both shouted louder.

“Louder.”

“Louder.”

Sirius huffed. He wanted to do it, he took a deep breath.

“LOUDER.”

Sirius screamed. His cry pierced through your ears and your stomach twisted as you saw the tears that he finally let go. He screeched and cried and shouted you felt yourself tear up too. You saw how much pent up emotions he had. You went towards him rubbing your hands on his sides consoling him. He took in gulps of air as he finally stopped. He looked at you and snorted, sniffing.

“Why are you crying?” he asked and you blinked.

“Huh?”

He smiled a little and wiped away the tears you didn’t know had formed.

“Thank you, I needed that.” He said and you gave him a small smile.

The two of you spent the evening just talking and laughing. Sirius hadn’t felt this good in a very long time. He felt lighter. And the fact that you didn’t bring up his breakdown again warmed up his heart. He felt connected with you. He realized he had come to really like you. It was way more than just likeness, but he didn’t have the strength to admit that just yet.

A/N: My deerest peeps, we are getting closer, but don’t you for one moment think all problems are solved. Written for Riley’s ( @wreckofawriter ) Cliche Month’s Challenge. Feedback is very much appreciated, it makes me and my work better each day ;)

[millenniumpuzzle]

maybe them playing video games at yugi's place after school?

so i know this is three days late, but in my defense, i wanted it to be good, and election stress, and also i finished it yesterday but didn’t want to post it because of, you know. everything. however, i have finally finished, and i bring you: wishshipping where they’re playing video games, but it’s also a first kiss story :) (g-rated!) thanks again for the prompt!!

Having a best friend that lived above a game shop came with certain benefits, Jonouchi thought as he sat down on Yugi’s bed, N64 controller in hand. The one he was most concerned with at the moment was Kame Game’s early access to the latest video games, and the fact that Yugi almost always got a free copy of any game he wanted from his grandpa as soon as they came in. As such, the only reason he was at Yugi’s house was to play the new Nintendo fighting game (named Super Smash Bros, of all things), no matter what Anzu tried to insinuate as she saw the two of them walking in the same direction after school.

“Hey! Did it boot up okay?” Jonouchi nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Yugi’s voice, but relaxed when he saw him in the doorframe, balancing two bags of chips and a two-liter of soda in his arms.

“Yeah, it’s ready whenever we are,” Jonouchi replied, before standing up and taking one of the bags and the two-liter from Yugi to set them on the coffee table in front of the small television. Yugi smiled gratefully, and Jonouchi carefully ignored the skipped beat of his heart as he watched Yugi set the remaining bag down. He was only here for Super Smash Bros. Nothing more.

“Ah, thanks, Jonouchi.” Yugi’s face was red, and he rubbed the back of his neck as he spoke. Jonouchi found himself fixated on the violet of his eyes, the movements of his muscles, the blush of his cheeks, even as he tried to put it aside and focus on the character-select screen. “Well, should we get started?” Yugi asked, clapping his hands together as he sat down on the bed entirely too close for Jonouchi’s liking.

“Sure thing, Yug’. What character do you want?” The urge to toss his arm over Yugi’s shoulders was almost too great to ignore, but he managed to push it down, instead swallowing and moving the joystick over the character portraits in a circle.

Yugi hummed, opening a bag of chips before grabbing his own controller. “I want…” he said, before selecting his character, with a cry of, “Kirby!” He reached into the bag of chips and popped a handful into his mouth, then, chewing at Jonouchi as though it were meant to be triumphant. Mostly, Jonouchi thought Yugi looked silly – and yet, whenever Yugi looked silly, he looked cute, so he couldn’t quite complain.

“The marshmallow, I should have known,” he said instead, arching an eyebrow at Yugi, who immediately erupted into laughter.

“Hey, don’t underestimate the marshmallow!” Yugi fixed Jonouchi with a stare that was surely meant to be intimidating, but was contradicted by the laughter sparkling in his eyes, and the twitch of his cheeks as he tried to keep them from smiling. “I can beat you with Kirby nine times out of ten, no doubt!”

“We’ll see about that!” Jonouchi laughed, selecting Link after not much thought. The guy’s got a cool sword, what could he say? Yugi hit the start button, and selected the first stage – thank goodness for that, Jonouchi had to figure out how the game worked before trying anything too crazy! After a brief loading screen, the game counted them down from three, and they were off.

***

“And that’s another win for me!” Yugi set his controller down and flung his arms into the air, eyes squeezed nearly shut from his smile as Kirby smiled from his first-place position, Link clapping politely in the background. “Yugi five, Jonouchi zero,” he continued, doing a seated victory dance that did little more than shake the bed underneath them.

Jonouchi only looked at the victory screen on the television for a moment before his gaze was drawn back to Yugi, unable to resist the magnetic pull of his bright smile. He didn’t much like losing, but it was worth it if he could see Yugi smile like that. “Guess I’m gonna need more time to get the hang of this game than you, huh?” he said, unable to keep the fondness out of his tone. “What’s your secret? How are you so good at everything you do?”

Yugi turned to look at him, then, cheeks immediately turning pink, which was cuter than it had any right to be. “Quit messing around, Jonouchi. There are plenty of things I’m not good at!” There was still laughter in his tone, like he was making a joke, but the way he rubbed the back of his neck told Jonouchi there was more going on.

“I wouldn’t joke about something like that! C’mon, you’re the closest thing to perfect I’ve ever seen.” Jonouchi put his hand on Yugi’s shoulder and shook it lightly. Yugi’s cheeks flushed even darker; whether it was because of the compliment or the physical contact, Jonouchi couldn’t be sure. He didn’t reply, choosing instead to stare at his lap and keep rubbing his neck. Jonouchi’s eyes narrowed; that had to stop. Without thinking, he grabbed Yugi’s hand and brought it to rest in the space between them, rubbing the back lightly with his own thumb to help comfort Yugi. “Hey, need me to run down a list?”

Yugi ducked his head, further avoiding eye contact, speaking his next words to the carpet. Jonouchi had to pause for a moment to fully comprehend what he said – it was always tougher for him to understand what people were saying if he couldn’t see their mouth move – but eventually he managed to process it. “No, you’re fine, I get it. You see me differently than I see myself, I guess.”

“Well that’s a shame, because I wish you saw yourself how I see you!” Jonouchi began holding Yugi’s hand with both of his, ducking his head so that he could see Yugi’s eyes under his bangs. “When I see you, I see the smart, brave, compassionate person who stood up for a no-good bully, even though he got beat up in the process.” Yugi opened his mouth to respond, but Jonouchi cut him off. “And I know you’re about to defend me, say that I was just trying to make you a man, or that I didn’t know what I was doing, and that’s the thing, Yug’! You always look for the good in people, no matter how deep you have to dig to find it. You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met, and it’s all focused toward other people. When are you going to find compassion for yourself?” He squeezed Yugi’s hand a little tighter, which made Yugi finally look up toward him, wide, violet eyes shiny with unshed tears. Jonouchi felt like his heart would burst at the sight, so he squeezed tighter still, until Yugi brought his neglected hand to join the other, squeezing back.

“I think I prefer to hear it from you,” Yugi finally responded, voice thick with the tears he had yet to shed. But he was smiling, now, and that made Jonouchi so happy, he didn’t think twice about leaning forward to close the distance between them and kissing Yugi.

As far as first kisses went, it could have been better. The way they were sitting, side-by-side on Yugi’s bed a foot apart, made the angle awkward, especially since Jonouchi refused to let go of Yugi’s hands. Not to mention, the way Jonouchi had rushed in made the press of lips hard and unyielding, and Yugi had gone stiff at their first touch. When Jonouchi pulled away, it was with regret, fear – had he ruined their friendship forever? “I’m sorry, Yug’, I didn’t –”

“Let’s try that again,” Yugi interrupted, pulling his hands free and scooting close enough that his shoulders and thighs were touching Jonouchi’s. He cradled Jonouchi’s face with a hand, and Jonouchi knew he must have gone wide-eyed, because Yugi laughed. Finally, he leaned in, and captured Jonouchi’s lips in a much gentler, less impulsive kiss. Jonouchi melted into the contact, reciprocating as best he could, before they both pulled away. Yugi looked fit to burst with happiness, despite the lingering tears in his eyes, and Jonouchi couldn’t keep the dopey grin off his face.

“Man, and you really think you aren’t good at everything? ‘Cause you keep adding to the list!” Jonouchi laughed, brushing a stray bang out of Yugi’s eyes. Yugi glared at him, but it was playful, and he combed his hand through Jonouchi’s hair as well. “Seriously, that was the best kiss I ever had! You oughta teach classes on this, I’m not kidding.”

Yugi raised an eyebrow at that. “Oh? You want me to kiss other people?” Jonouchi stared at him for a second, again taking time to process, before spluttering and taking things back. Yugi just laughed, and interrupted him with another kiss. “I’m just kidding, Jonouchi. If you’ll have me, I’m yours.”

Time froze around Jonouchi, the world reduced to nothing but him and Yugi. If he could, he would have sprinted out the door and ran through the streets of Domino, proclaiming that Yugi was his. As it was, though, all he could say was, “Yeah, of course. And I’m yours too.” Then, he kissed Yugi again, just because he could. And if pieces of Kirby’s victory screen were burnt into the television screen for some time afterwards, well, who could blame them for forgetting to turn the game off?

[nxrthmizu]

-Lordbug, Robin and Kitty Noir- Chapter Twelve: In Which Lila Lies

---

/Part One//Part Eleven/

---

The school was abuzz with chatter. Students everywhere gossiped about MDC’s show, everyone sharing their opinions about the newly-debuted designer. Some people sharing their opinions more than others. 

“I knew her since we were four!” Lila declared. “When we were kids, I used to be her model.” 

The girls in the class fawned over the fact that Lila, yet again, knew another famous person. MDC had bloomed into an overnight sensation- ‘Majesty’ crowded over magazine covers, but the Lordbug and Kitty Noir outfits were not overshadowed. Many pages were dedicated to the fashion show that had taken place the previous day, each and every article complementing on the designer’s skill and talent- And she was so polite, too! (Not to mention she was really pretty~)

Aurore was smiling widely as students flocked her, asking how she’s managed to get an interview with MDC before MDC even debuted. She smiled and brushed people off politely, saying that she was just lucky. The sour look on Alya’s face was unmissable, so Lila quickly jumped to the chance. 

“Oh, I’m so sorry, Alya.” The Italian pouted as she apologised. “I did mention you to MDC, but she said she already found a blog to interview her. I’m sure she’ll ask you to do the next one, though! She was really sorry that you didn’t get your chance since she already asked Aurore.” 

The ombre-haired girl brightened up immediately. “Gosh, that’s so nice of you, Lila! And there’s no need to apologise.” She cast a dark look at Aurore. “She got in by luck, I’ll get in for talent.” 

Across the classroom, Chloe snorted. The trio had been lounging at the back, listening to the conversation with… Various feelings about it. Damian was downright furious. How dare Lila claim she knew MDC when MDC was bullied by her everyday? Chloe was rather amused- She couldn’t wait to see Lila’s face when Marinette revealed herself after their graduation. Marinette was rather… Unbothered. Karma would be back for the Italian girl when the right time came- There was no need to get her own hands dirty. 

“I still feel so sorry you didn’t get the chance, Alya.” Lila pouted and shedded a tear. “To make it up to you, I’ll ask MDC to do a commission for you. She always said that since I helped her to her success, she’d make a dress for me anytime.” 

Awe and jealousy glinted in every girls’ eyes. Alya beamed enthusiastically. “Lila! You’re always so kind, thank you! I’d love to get a dress from MDC!” 

“Too bad she’s not actually getting one.” Chloe glanced at her nails, a bored expression on her face. Marinette shot her a playful look, which the blonde shrugged off. 

Luckily, Chloe’s remark was unheard by the excited girls, who continued to crowd around Lila until Madame Mendeliev snapped her book on the table, yelling for everyone to get back to their seats. Still, the excitement lingered in the class, and the skip in Alya’s pace spoke enough of how disappointed she’d be on the next day.

—

“Alya, please forgive me.” Lila sniffed pitifully as she cried. “I asked MDC, but she said she was flocked with commissions overnight and she can’t get to yours until she’s finished all the rest!” 

Alya’s face fell as her eyes dulled in disappointment. She’d been looking forward to good news from Lila, but clearly, the only thing that the day had brought was bad luck. The ombre-girl tried to keep a straight face as she reassured her friend. “It’s alright, Lila. I’m pretty sure she was really busy anyway.” She chuckled and shrugged it off, but everyone could see the stiffness of her body, the slump of her shoulders, and the tears prickling on her eyelids. 

Damian let out a little chuckle, his green eyes twinkling in satisfaction. “What did I say?” 

“Pft.” Chloe laughed softly, her amusement clear in her eyes and her relaxed position. “Too bad, Cesaire.” 

Marinette glared at both of them. “Play nice!” She hissed. Her two friends took one look at each other and shrugged, uncaring of the disappointment and lies that constantly hovered over that class. 

It was no longer, their class, after all. 

—

The call was pretty much expected. 

“Damian.” The stern voice of his father made it clear that it was unarguable. “I demand to meet the girl.” 

Although it was already a made decision, it didn’t mean Damian had to be happy about it. “Fine.” He grumbled. “I’ll ask her. But no promises.” 

Bruce made a grunt in his throat, his excitement not showing through his facial expression but his eyes. Blue orbs sparkled in excitement as the papa bat waited patiently to meet his little robin’s newfound mate. 

—

“Um, Marinette…” Damian coughed awkwardly into the phone. “My… Um, father wants to meet you.” 

The bluenette blinked in confusion on the other side of the line. “Um… Why? Did I do something wrong?” Damian heard his heart crack a little at the concern in her voice. No, you didn’t do anything wrong, my dad just wants to see you. Because he’s a busy body who can’t keep his nose out of my business. 

“No, no it’s nothing like that.” Damian sighed, shooting a sharp glare at Tikki, who giggled as she munched on a sugar cube. “It’s just- Um- He kind of guessed that you’re MDC and he’s impressed.” 

Marinette sighed in relief. “Oh, then should I bring Chloe as well?” 

The green-eyed Gothamite wanted to groan. No, not Bourgeois. But on second thought, Marinette would be more comfortable and assured with the blonde there. “Ye- Yeah, actually, why not.” 

“Great! I’ll call her now. Do I have to dress formally? Where are we meeting your father? Should I bring any gifts? Macarons? There’s still time for me to bake a cake!” Marinette’s frantic rambling made a little smile creep up the emerald-eyed’s lips. Tikki giggled at how hopeless her miraculous holder was- And at how frantic Plagg’s holder was. 

“We’re meeting him at a restaurant, so maybe dress formally. And no, you don’t need to bring any gifts, ange-” Before he could finish, he was cut off by the bluenette’s insistent rambling.

“You know what, I’m going to bake a cake. I saw a really nice recipe online the other day and I think it would be a good idea! I’ll, um, get started now, does your dad like cheesecakes? What about peaches?” 

Damian wanted to laugh. Gosh, he loved the bluenette. “Yes, he likes cheesecakes, and yes, I’m pretty sure he’s fine with peaches as well.” 

“Alright then! I’ll get going now, I have a cake to bake! See ya in a bit, Dami!” 

And then the phone call ended. Damian laughed to himself, Tikki watching with a warm smile as the emerald-eyed boy fondly thought of his bluenette classmate. 

—

Chloe was leaning leisurely on her bed, flipping through a fashion magazine. And then her phone rang. 

She frowned, picking up her phone. The caller ID read ‘Bluenette’. The blonde sighed, clicking the answer button. “What is it, Dupain-Cheng? This better be important. You interrupted my magazine reading session.” The blonde grumbled. 

“Damian’sdadwantstomeetusapparentlyheknowsI’mMDCandsoyouneedtocometoobecauseyouwereoneofthemodelsand-”

Chloe blinked. “Okay, go over that again, but slower.” 

Marinette took a deep breath. “Damian’s dad wants to meet us, apparently he knows I’m MDC and so you need to come too because you are one of the models and I’m baking a cake to bring and we have to dress formally because it’s going to be a formal dinner.” 

“Okay.” Chloe breathed. “And this has to do with me because I need to go?” 

“Yes, and I’m calling because do you want some peach cheesecake?” Marinette’s bright voice made a little grin dance across the mayor’s daughters lips. Really, it was impossible to not laugh when you were talking to the world’s brightest little bluenette. 

Chloe sighed as she got off her bed. “The cake better be good, Dupain-Cheng.” 

—

The bakery smelt of cream cheese and peach syrup; Chloe sighed as she breathed in the satisfying scents. “That isn’t actually half-bad, Dupain-Cheng.” 

Marinette giggled. “Well, the big cake will be for Damian’s father, you can have all the tarts if you want.” 

The bluenette baker had baked seven cakes- A giant cake, and six miniature versions of the cake- Tarts. The bottom of the cake was a strong layer of sponge cake, followed by a cream cheese mixture. Atop the cream cheese was a layer of raspberry jam. After that was a jelly made from peach syrup- And inside the translucent jelly was cut up pieces of peach. Marinette had garnished the cake with some decorative flowers, sprinkling some strawberry powder above everything for the final touch. The baker girl delicately slid the cake into a pretty, white box, tying a perfect ribbon to top everything. 

“That, is really not bad.” Chloe hummed. “I appreciate this, and much more, for my birthday.” 

The bluenette laughed. “Sure, Chloe.” She smiled warmly at her blonde friend, bluebell eyes twinkling in happiness. 

Ding! 

The front door of the bakery opened, and Sabine called out for the two girls at the back of the kitchen. “Marinette! Your friend’s here!” 

“Coming, mama!” Marinette replied, hastily (But carefully) lifting up the box, tugging the ribbon one last time to her satisfaction. 

“Marinette, that ribbon is the definition of perfection. Stop fidgeting with it.” Chloe rolled her eyes. “Let’s go!” 

The bluenette hummed, following after her blonde friend with a bright, happy smile on her face. 

Little did she know, she was about to meet her father-in-law. 

—

“You must be Marinette.” Bruce smiled warmly, holding a hand for Marinette to shake. The girl panicked, awkwardly trying to figure out which hand to use to shake Bruce’s hand as she held the cake box in her hands. Damian resisted the fond chuckle that was building up in his throat, reaching over to take the cake from Marinette as the bluenette shot him a grateful look. 

“You’re Bruce Wayne.” Chloe deadpanned, shooting glares at Damian. “Damian never said he was the Damian Wayne.” 

The boy shrugged. “I was going under Fu’s name since I was living with him.” 

Bruce nodded. “And you must be Ms. Bourgeois.” The blonde smiled, reaching over to shake the billionaire’s hand as well. 

“Um, I baked a little something for you.” Marinette smiled shyly. “I hope you like cheesecakes?” 

Bruce’s eyes conveyed nothing but surprise. “You can bake?” 

“Father, Marinette is a baker’s daughter. Her parents own the most popular bakery in all of Paris.” Damian cut in, his emerald eyes practically yelling threats at his father. 

“I see.” Bruce nodded approvingly. “Ms. Dupain-Cheng is truly a very talented individual.” 

The said girl blushed fiercely, spluttering out her thanks. Bruce smiled at how polite and awkward the girl was- Truly, his future daughter-in-law was one of a kind. 

—

/Part Thirteen/

---

A/N: Yes, I’ve been MIA for a very long time, sorry... Exams were clogging every part of my schedule. I’ll hopefully be getting back to writing so here’s an update for now! :) Have a nice day everyone, and thanks for putting up with my hectic update schedule... *Insert laughing face* 

My grandma’s birthday is today, so I rushed this before her birthday party! Once again, contact me if any mistakes are found. 

On another note, I’m sorry to announce that the taglist is closed.

Tag list! @yin-390@mysteriouslyswimmingfan-blo-blog@constancetruggle@the-navistar-carol@never-neverland@rayray384 @mystery-5-5 @black-streak@bluerosette23@seraphichana @you-will-never-know-how-i-think@mikantsume@graduatedmelon@thebookwormfairy@crazylittlemunchkin@shizukiryuu@screamingtofillthevoid@serenacross200@zestyzealot@redscarlet95@roseinbloom02 @beautym3@resignedcatservant@sizzling-fairy-oil@tinybrie @worlds-tiniest-spook-pastry@lunar-wolf-warrior@northernbluetongue@dannyelric301 @daminett4life@loysydark@sparkle9510@erick-rose99-stuff@nataladriana9@maya-custodios-dionach ​@myazael ​@sassakitty ​@clumsy-owl-4178 ​@emootaku-666 @moonlightstar64 ​@r0sebutch ​@maggiecc12 @gaeasun@miss-mysterys-blog​@bluefyoto94 ​@sam-spectra ​@toodaloo-kangaroo ​@queenmj10 ​

[marvelslut16]

Prom night

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Henderson!reader

Synopsis: The day for Steve to take (Y/N) Henderson to prom has finally arrived. While they have grown closer over these past few months, can he use this night to woo her and finally ask her out? Or will it be ruined by Tommy H. and Carol?

Word count: 2085

Warnings: Swearing, slight violence, Tommy H. and Carol being complete assholes. 

A/N: This is a sequel to milkshakes and fries, but can be read as a stand alone story. I was ecstatic when someone requested I do it (even though I was gonna write it anyway). So two long months filled with homework and injuries later, I’m finally posting prom night. I hope you guys enjoy this as much as I did. For some reason I absolutely adored this one, and it’s my new favorite thing I’ve written. 

Months have passed since Steve Harrington asked you to the prom, and boy did those months fly by. Steve hasn’t backed out of your ‘date,’ like you assumed he would, he has actually been spending more time with you. He comes over after school some days to spend time with Dustin and to get homework help from you. The biggest change that has happened are those pesky little butterflies you get when he accidentally bumps your hand, or when he smiles at you.

“(Y/N), Harrington is here,” Dustin pops his head through your doorway, whatever smart ass remark he is going to say dies in his throat as he catches a glimpse of you dressed up. 

Your hair is styled in an updo and you have a light layer of makeup on. Of course you used some of Dustin’s Farrah Fawcett spray to keep your hair in place. You decided to skip a necklace since the neckline of your dress went up your neck. You also opted out of chunky and large earrings for an elegant small pair of diamond earrings your grandmother had given your mother. Lastly was your red dress, the top was sparkly and slightly off the shoulder. There was an open portion in the back, and the bottom was plain and flowy. 

“Whoa,” Dustin’s eyes look like they're about to pop out of his head. 

“Is it that bad?” you spin around to face your little brother. “Maybe you should just tell Steve that I don’t feel good enough to go.”

“Are you shitting me? You look amazing, and your definitely fucking going,” Dustin gives you a stern look. “Steve is nervously pacing the living room, you better get out there.” He pushes you out of your room and towards the living room, where your date is waiting.

Date, that’s so strange to think about. Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington had asked you, a nerdy nobody to go to prom with him. Granted he’d lost his coolness when he got dumped by Nancy Wheeler. But the new, genuine Steve, he’s so much better. The Steve that cares about Dusty’s well-being, who wears his heart on his sleeve, and who embarrasses himself every time he asks you for help on his homework. If you didn’t know any better, you might say you were falling in love with the new Steve. But that’s impossible, right?

You’re breath catches in your throat when your eyes land on Steve. He’s in a black tux that fits perfectly, and he has a red bow tie that matches your dress to a t. You’ll have to thank Dustin for that later, he was in charge of helping Steve get the right color tie. 

“You look beautiful,” Steve breathes when his eyes land on you. A light pink blush colors his cheeks as he takes in the sight of you all dressed up.

“So do you,” your ears burn hot, feeling the heat raise up to your cheeks. Dustin is snickering at your mess up behind you as your mom grins from ear to ear. “Handsome! I mean, you look handsome Steve.” The two of you hold eye contact, with little smiles gracing your faces for what seems like an eternity. 

“Stop looking at my sister like that,” Dustin’s face scrunches in disgust. “It’s gross.”

“Shut up dweeb!” you turn and glare at Dustin.

“That’s enough,” your mom walks between you and Dustin. “It’s time for pictures!”

Steve nervously pulls a simple white rose corsage out from behind his back and places it delicately on your wrist. You hear the snap of the camera go off repeatedly as your mom takes multiple action shots. You giggle nervously as you attempt to pin a matching boutonniere on his jacket without stabbing him. Steve’s intense gaze isn’t helping either. 

After the flowers are situated, your mom poses you, with Steve behind you and arms wrapped around your waist, and your hands lay delicately over his. He keeps trying to resituate, accidentally tickling your sides causing you to giggle, making him laugh as well. You grin over your shoulder at him, and the way the lights reflect off of his hazel eyes is mesmerizing, it makes the green come off a shade brighter. The two of you reluctantly step away from the others embrace as you go to leave. 

“You hurt her you’re fucking dead Harrington,” Dustin promises, getting up in Steve’s face. The familiar flash of the camera goes off as your mom giggles. You grab Steve’s hand and pull him out the door. “Just remember I know where your bat is!” Your mom laughs at Dustin’s words, taking them as empty threats. But Steve takes a big gulp of air knowing he means every word he says.

“Bye mom, bye Dusty,” you call to them as you pull the front door shut behind you. 

Steve stutters through some jokes as he drives you to dinner, your jaw drops slightly as you pull into Enzos’ parking lot. Steve grins at you as you stare at the building in front of you, there's a little sparkle of amusement in his eyes.

“Steve, this is too much,” you protest when he walks around the car and opens your door for you. He offers a hand, and gently helps you out, briefly pulling you into his chest. 

“I want to spoil my date,” he grins at you, his stupid goofy grin. Not that ingenuine smirk he always had plastered on his face when he was King Steve. You don’t know how to respond, so you just grin at him and lace your fingers through his. 

Steve leads you into the fancy restaurant, where there’s a quartet playing and lights strung up. You grin at him and squeeze his hand. 

“Reservation for Harrington,” Steve smiles at you, barely even glancing at the pretty hostess. The familiar heat of a blush makes its way to your cheeks, and you smile down at the ground. 

While you and Steve are eating your entrees he tells you his good news, “I got the job at Scoops!”

“That’s fantastic!” you grin widely at him. You had helped Steve prepare for his interview. When he gets nervous he tends to clam up and make a fool of himself, and he really wanted this job. It was his way of proving to himself, his parents, and even you, that he was more than just a trust fund baby who lacked the basic skills needed in life. “I’m so proud of you! I have my interview at JCPenney’s next week, so we might work a few stores away from each other.”

“We can have lunch breaks together, and I can give you free ice cream as often as you want!” Steve’s so excited he looks like he could start bouncing in his seat at any moment. You grin at him, and reach across the tabletop to lace your fingers with his. For two friends, the two of you touch each other too often, always savering the warmth that went straight to your souls. 

“I’d like that.”

--

“I’ll get us some punch,” Steve’s hand ghosts over the small of your back as he whispers in your ear. The two of you had been at prom for almost an hour, awkwardly standing on the sidelines as happy couples danced. 

“Well if it isn’t Henderson, and looking extra grody I see,” a familiar and annoying voice says behind you. Steve has been gone for less than a minute and his ex-friends were already on you like vultures. 

“And dateless no less,” Tommy H. joins in on Carol’s teasing. “I didn’t know that was allowed.”

“I have a date,” you say quietly. 

“Then where is he?” Carol steps closer, laughing mere inches from your face. 

“Getting us punch,” you say stronger this time, fists clenching at your sides. “He’ll be back any minute now, so if you’ll excuse me,” you try to walk past them towards the table Steve walked off to. But Tommy H. stepped in your way, and you almost walked into his scrawny annoying chest. 

“You aren’t going anywhere sweetheart, not when you lie to us,” Tommy H’s fingers wrap tightly around your wrist. 

“Where’s your boyfriend Billy? I’m surprised you two aren’t attached at the hip,” you sneer at the bully. His face is so close his large nose is poking yours, and you can smell the cheap beer on his breath. “Now, could you please extract your ugly freckled face from mine, it would be greatly appreciated,” you deadpan, irritation growing as his grip on your wrist without the corsage tightens. 

“You better watch yourself,” Tommy H. threatens, his nails digging into your skin as hand tightens this time. 

“Let go of her,” Steve growls from behind Tommy H, punch long forgotten and discarded on some table. You sigh in relief at his arrival, not knowing how much longer you could have held them off. As soon as Steve sees that Tommy H’s grip loosened he whips him around, staring him down. 

“Don’t do anything stupid Harrington,” Tommy H. sneers. “Wouldn’t want to damage that pretty face of yours before you can convince your date to put out.” 

“Don’t talk about (Y/N) like that,” Steve’s hands grip threatening around the lapels of Tommy H’s jacket. 

“What are you gonna do about it?” Tommy H. laughs. “You never win a fight.”

“Steve,” he glances at you, the pleading look in your eyes makes him loosen his grip on Tommy H. He growls as he roughly pushes the shorter teen back, causing him to trip over a chair and fall onto his back. 

“Tommy!” Carol’s fake voice goes up one annoying octave louder before rushing to her boyfriend's side. 

“You stay away from (Y/N) Henderson,” Steve threatens. “And you best watch what you say about her and Dustin.”

Steve grabs your hand and twirls you onto the dance floor, and away from your bullies. “When did you get so smooth Harrington?” you giggle as he spins you into his arms. 

“When I wanted to start impressing you Henderson,” he admits softly, pulling you in closer to him. 

You don’t know how to respond, so you sway to the music with Steve. Being in his arms feels so right, but so wrong at the same time. He is Dustin’s best friend, and you don’t want it to be awkward for them if anything ever happened between you. The familiar beginning notes of a Foreigner song are being played by the band on the stage in the front of the gym. Steve’s voice joins, out of tune, the baritone voice from the lead singer.

“When you love someone, when you love someone, it feels so right, so warm and true, I need to know if you feel it too. Maybe I'm wrong, won't you tell me if I'm coming on too strong?

This heart of mine has been hurt before, this time I want to be sure,” you pull away from Steve’s shoulder and stare into his eyes. There’s nothing but sincerity in those hazel eyes as he sings to you. 

“When you love someone, yeah, really love someone. Now, I know it's right, from the moment I wake up till deep in the night, there's nowhere on earth that I'd rather be than holding you tenderly,” you sing back, causing Steve to smile shyly at you.

“I love you (Y/N),” he admits nervously, but never breaks his eye contact. 

“I love you too, Steve,” the words slip out of your mouth. Tears prick your eyes as you realize just how much you mean those words, you would be lost without Steve ‘the hair’ Harrington. 

Steve grins at you, cupping your face and pulling it to meet his half way. The moment your lips touch your breath leaves your body, a fire lights through your body and rests deep in your soul. For the first time in over two years, you feel safe and content. Happy. Who would have thought King Steve would have been the one to make you so indescribably happy? You’ll have to thank Dustin for this later. 

“I’ll follow you anywhere Steve Harrington,” you breathe out as your lips disconnect. 

“Well it’s a good thing I never want to be without you then,” Steve’s thumb caresses your cheek as he smiles the widest you’ve ever seen. You swear if his smile gets any bigger it’ll split his face in half. Then again, your sure your faces mirrors his.

Permanent tags: @crimson-knuckled-queen @rexorangecouny​

[hongyueg]

The Rejected Son

Zuko finally attends one of his private bending academy's dances and realizes something important. https://archiveofourown.org/works/27660980 ________________________________________________________________

The only reason Zuko was at the Spring Festival Dance was because of his uncle. He had skipped every single one of the thousand other school events that had been tossed at him. The Golden Dragon Dance. The Moon Spirit Dance. All those assemblies on bullying and mental health. It was humiliating enough being the rejected son of the Fire Lord. Zuko didn’t need his peers gawking at him as well.

The one good thing Zuko could say about the Spring Festival Dance was that it was outside. His fellow high schoolers were too busy gazing at the red, purple, and blue fireworks twinkling in the night sky above them to give him any attention. He could blend in with the other Freshmen of the International Bending Academy for once.

“Hey, Zuko.”

Or not.

He twisted to his right to see the pretty Earthbender Jin from his class striding over to him with a cup of tea in her hands. In the distance, he could see his uncle’s stand lit up by ruby lanterns and he could almost smell the sweet and bitter aroma of the leaves Iroh used in his drinks. As Jin approached, Zuko’s cheeks felt hot and he fought the urge to step back toward the school buildings behind him. It’s just Jin.

He gave the girl a curt nod. A slight breeze drifted over his skin and he felt glad for the moment of relief. It could get quite warm in the Fire Nation.

“Zuko,” Jin said. Thanks to the line of lampposts tracing the dance area, Zuko could make out a smile on her tan cheeks.  “You should come join in the dancing. It’s fun.”

He glanced at the large crowd of people swaying in front of him. He shook his head. “I don’t think anybody would want to see me dancing.”

Jin peered at him with sad eyes. He hated that she seemed to pity him. He suddenly felt self-conscious of the scar that striked the left side of his face and he turned his head away from the girl.

A boom shattered the silence as a red firework burst in the air, painting the people and grass below a pinkish hue. Beyond the crowds, the sparkling lights, the lanterns, Zuko could see the ocean murmuring in the background. The salty air stung his nose and he imagined that he could see the edge of the Earth Kingdom teetering before him. It had never made sense to him that the private bending high school he attended was in the Fire Nation. It made more sense for the international academy to be in the United Republic. It’s just another way my country is trying to regain the power it’s lost in the decades since the Hundred Year War.

“Your uncle’s tea is very good,” Jin said. Her light voice could barely be heard through the quaking of the fireworks.

Annoyance crept into Zuko’s mind. He didn’t understand why this girl wasn’t leaving and he definitely did not want to discuss his uncle with her.

“He’s a great guidance counselor, too,” Jin continued. “He helped me feel less homesick this year.”

The word “home” felt like a dagger twisting in Zuko’s gut. He was sure Jin had a lovely home in the Earth Kingdom that possessed a family who missed her, but wanted her to have the opportunity to attend the most prestigious bending academy in the six nations. She probably didn’t belong to a family that made money raging useless border skirmishes with other countries or trying to return to a time that was long gone. Jin didn’t have to worry about other people staring at her because her trauma had been made public.

A purple firework thrummed in the sky and rocked Zuko out of his thoughts. He focused on his fellow students’ laughter as they jumped around before him. He saw friends hugging one another with grins splashed on their cheeks. He cringed at the couples kissing along the fringes of the crowd. He smirked as teenagers’ stepped on one another’s toes and as his classmates snorted with exhilaration. The scene appeared beautiful in an amusing, chaotic way. Everyone was simply trying to dance and belong.

“You should go, Jin,” Zuko said. He made sure his voice was loud enough to be heard over the crackling of the fireworks. “Your friends are probably wondering where you are.”

Jim smiled at him and took a sip from her teacup. The sleeves of her mint green dress fell down to her elbows. “You know, Zuko. You can dance, too. I’m sure my friends wouldn’t mind.”

Zuko felt himself blushing again and he fought the urge to fiddle with the ends of the red dress shirt he wore. Why was Jin being so nice to him? She, like everyone else in this school, this whole world rather, knew that he was rejected, knew that his father had scarred him. Zuko was only here because his uncle had been the one person willing to care for a disgraced prince. He only came to this dance because that same uncle had requested him to be there.

His country was a mess disguised as perfection and everything about this school felt wrong. Still, as Jin beamed at him with his uncle’s tea in her hands, Zuko felt something. Something he hadn’t felt since he was eleven years old. He felt that he mattered. That somebody cared for him.

He shook his head at Jin. “Thank you, but I… I have to go. I have something to do.”

Jin nodded at him, her face slightly downcast. “Well, I’ll see you in class.” She gave a little bow to him before scurrying off in the direction of the crowd.

Zuko watched as the kind girl dashed away. Once she had disappeared into the masses, he turned around and headed toward the lone teastand at the edge of the grassy area. Another sea breeze tangled around his legs and the brimy air soothed him. A blue firework dazzled the night sky. After what felt like hours, Zuko arrived in front of his uncle’s stand.

His uncle looked up at him, his amber eyes welled with concern. A boiling kettle of tea wheezed on the platform between them.

“Hey, Uncle,” Zuko said. “Do you want help serving tea?”

Iroh grinned.

[borathae]

↳ Index [#03 Act Three: Melodies in the Night]

Warnings: feels, small fight, one curseword is used like once lmao

Wordcount: 6k

Your Monday starts off normal with you having to attend your lectures and spending your lunch break on one of the benches outside before you have to get back to your studies.

You are currently on your way to European History of Music with your heart racing in your chest from nervousness because of who you will meet, when you spot Jungkook in the hallways. His head is lowered, exhaustion is written all over his features. You call his name, making him look up. His face lights up, he fixes his posture before running up to you with a bright smile.

“Hey ___ how are you?” Jungkook gives you a quick hug like he always does.

“Good, practice is killing me but otherwise good.”

“Yeah, I feel you. The teacher in my jazz vocals class thinks it’s a good idea to make me practice scat for two hours straight”, Jungkook sighs, “I swear to god if I have to sing one more boobidibibidi today I’ll literally rip out my vocal chords.”

You snort, laughing afterwards.

“Hey, don’t laugh, okay? Do you even know how annoying it can get if someone yells at your face to ‘feel the music’ and to ‘become the trumpet’?” Jungkook throws his arms up in annoyance, “How the hell do I become a trumpet?!” he squeaks, widening his eyes comically big. 

The whine in his voice and pout on his lips makes you laugh even harder. He's so adorable sometimes.

“What’s so funny?” Jimin has joined you right at this moment. He had just finished his dance practice, his whole body sweaty from the intense training, when he saw you and Jungkook laughing in the hallways. He has the strap of his gym bag draped over his left shoulder, holding it with one arm.

“Jungkook needs to become a trumpet, according to Mister Jung”, you tell him between laughter.

“What the?” Jimin starts laughing with you, holding onto Jungkook’s arm.

Jungkook just pouts, staring defeated at the hallway in front of him.

“I hate you two so much”, he mumbles with a certain whine in his voice.

“No you don’t, you love us”, Jimin teases, draping his arm over Jungkook’s shoulder to hug him aggressively.

Jungkook accepts it with a cute frown.

“Come on, cheer up Kook. You know we are not laughing at you but with you”, you say, hugging his arm and looking at him with innocent eyes.

Jungkook looks between you and Jimin before he scoffs.

“Yeah, whatever. Just get off of me, you are too hot”, he murmurs, shaking his body vigorously.

You let go of his arm, still giggling.

“But now that we have so miraculously met in the hallways, do you guys want to hang out down by the pond?” Jimin asks.

“You two go ahead. I still have a lecture in like ten minutes”, you tell him, stopping in front of a coffee vending machine.

“Noo, ___ come on please just skip it and join us. We haven’t seen you in ages”, Jimin whines, pouting.

You shake your head, pressing the button for Latte Macchiato. The machine gets to work, humming its familiar melody. Coffee pours out, light brown and watery, definitely not the most delicious looking coffee, but it has to do for the time being. Sidenote - it is definitely not worth the outrageous four bucks this godforsaken school asks for it  - sidenote end.

“I really can’t. I’m sorry guys”, you take the cup of coffee out of the machine, handing it to Jimin, “hold that for me, will ‘ya.”

You press the button once again, watching the machine work. Coffee as black as the night pours out and into the cup, it looks a lot more appetizing than your coffee, rich in color with a faint smell of roasted beans hanging in the air. Is it worth four bucks however? That is a question worth asking.

“Why do you need two cups of coffee? Or are you buying us some?” Jimin asks, his eyes sparkling in excitement at your alleged present.

You shake your head, pulling out the now finished black coffee from the machine.

“It’s not for you sorry. It’s for someone else.”

Jimin pouts, huffing out air. He was really looking forward to that coffee.

“Someone else?” Jungkook asks.

“Yep, Min Yoongi.”

Jimin nearly drops your coffee, Jungkook’s mouth falls open. They look at each other for a moment then back at you.

“Min Yoongi? What the hell ___. Why?” Jungkook asks with his brows furrowed.

You shrug your shoulders, putting a lid on both yours and Yoongi’s coffee cups.

“I don’t know. I just feel like it”, you say nonchalantly.

Jimin and Jungkook exchange another look, an annoyed one.

“Didn’t we tell you not to hang out with him?” Jimin asks, his voice is deep.

“Yeah you did and I decided to get my own idea on him. Everyone deserves a chance to prove themselves.”

“Yeah? Well, not this creep. He is dangerous ___, didn’t Jieun’s story convince you?”, Jimin looks beyond angry.

“His ex? Jimin, there are some pretty mean exes out there, who like to badmouth the other.”

“I mean, the whole school’s talking about it, so there must be some truth about it”, he retorts.

“Oh so just because the whole school is talking about it, it means that it is automatically true? You do know that that’s how bullying starts? Believing everything the others say and joining in on the hate train. But not me. Innocent until proven guilty, not the other way around, that’s my motto. So let me give him this coffee or so god help me.”

Jimin lowers his head, grinding his teeth. His eyes shoot daggers your way, they are as cold as ice, not an ounce of fondness in them. You have seen this look before, when he had yelled at Yoongi on your first day of school and you don’t like it one bit that it is directed at you this time around. But you won’t give in, you had decided to give Yoongi this coffee yesterday night when your thoughts had kept you from falling asleep. There is nothing against a little gesture of goodwill, or in your case a gesture of apology for disturbing his late night practice.

You look at Jungkook for help, only to see him gawk at you with widened eyes. But his expression changes as soon as he feels your eyes on him, now concern is washed over his face.

“Come on Jimin, control your temper. She is just trying to give him a coffee”, he says, throwing a protective arm over your shoulder.

New anger burns in Jimin’s eyes as he stares down his friend.

“Then go on and give him that stupid coffee, but don’t come crying to us when you find him taking pics of your ass or some other fucked up shit”, Jimin growls, handing you back the cup before stomping off. The cup nearly crushes in his fingers from how tightly he had pressed it into yours.

So he is actually going to just run away and leave you standing, all because you decided to give Yoongi a chance? How much hatred does Jimin have in his heart for this man? You feel sick to the stomach.

You shake Jungkook’s arm off of you, looking at him. His eyes are big, looking after the disappearing figure of his friend before looking back at you. You both stay silent for a moment, staring at each other with clenched jaws.

“I’m not going to change my mind”, you growl.

“I know you won’t, you are stubborn like that”, he murmurs, scratching the back of his head.

“Thank you Jungkook for not trying to stop me”, you smile.

He hums, nodding his head.

“Just be careful ___. I mean it”, Jungkook whispers.

His eyebrows are creased, his lips turned downwards. He doesn’t seem to be angry at you, worried yes but not angry like Jimin.

“I’m always careful”, you reassure him.

Jungkook relaxes, sending you a lopsided smile, averting his gaze to the ground shyly.

“I’ll see you soon?” it is more of a question than a statement.

“I’ll see you soon”, you tell him, nodding.

Jungkook turns on his heels, running down the corridors to catch up with Jimin.

“Oh! And Jungkook!”

He turns around with curious eyes.

“I know you two aren’t bad people, just-“, you swallow down the words you actually wanted to say, “-take good care of Jimin, yeah?”

Jungkook nods obediently, giving you a thumbs-up.

“I will, don’t you worry”, he assures you before he turns around and rushes down the long hallway.

You release a sigh. Telling them about your plan went better than you had feared. You were sure they were going to just throw you away and start treating you like they did Yoongi in the hallway all those weeks ago, but they didn’t. Your heart was right about them. Sure Jimin is angry with you, but at least he didn’t officially end your friendship and call you a ‘weirdo fetishist” in front of everyone to witness. There is still hope. You are going to prove it to them, to yourself and to Yoongi that he is worth it. With your mind set on making your goal happen, you strut to the lecture hall. Hopefully he is here today.

The lecture hall is already filled with students when you enter, most of them chatting lively over last week’s lecture. You look around the room, scanning the rows and rows of students for the man you are burning to see. You finally spot him, one row further up than last week. His hood is pulled over his head and the cords of his earbuds tangle down the side of his face. His fingers move over the table surface as if he was playing the piano, it looks mesmerizing as always. You watch him for a moment, gathering courage. You can do this, just walk up to him, smile and hand him the coffee. It’s no big deal.

Your heart beats faster with every step you take closer to him, you clutch the paper cups in your hands, they feel hot, burning your fingertips. Just two more steps. The song must have changed, Yoongi’s fingers speed up, dancing over the surface. One more step. His eyes are fixated on the sheet music on the table in front of him. The last step. You are right in front of him, getting a good look at his hands. They are big, his fingers are long, almost boney, and thick veins scatter all over his porcelain skin. His hands are the total opposite from his delicate face and petit figure. Just like his deep voice, they almost seem fake, like they don’t actually belong to him.

It takes Yoongi a moment to notice your presence. His fingers stop, his head raises. He looks at you through his lashes, being obviously on defense mode if you decide to just dump the coffee on his head. It wouldn’t be the first time someone had tried it.

“Hello. How are you?” you send him a smile.

Yoongi cocks up an eyebrow, he is suspicious of you.

“Umm, I-I bought you this coffee. It’s, it’s still warm”, you stutter, putting one of the cups down in front of him.

He stares at it, looks back at you, stares at the cup again.

“It’s not poisoned or anything, just normal black coffee”, you had only realised now how suspicious it must be for some random girl to walk up to you with a coffee she had bought for you.

Yoongi stays silent, still waiting for you to make your move and burn his skin with the second cup of coffee you are holding.

“I didn’t add the three extra shots of espresso, I really wanted to but the machine sadly didn’t let me”, you joke in reference to your run-in at the coffee shop last week.

Yoongi looks at you again with his eyes twice the size. Did you actually buy him coffee? So you aren’t here to call him a pervert and throw boiling hot liquid at his body. His lips part slightly in a silent gasp, words seemed to have left his brain.

You clear your throat, scratching the back of your neck. It seems that he is not going to answer you.

“Umm, yeah, anyways. You don’t need to drink it, you know, just throw it away if you want to. But I promise you there's not something disgusting in there or dangerous. I-I’ll get going now, the lesson’s going to start soon.”

You turn around, starting to walk back to the stairs to get to your seat, when you suddenly hear the tiniest of voices.

“T-thank you.”

You turn on your heels. Yoongi is staring at you with big puppy eyes, holding the cup in his hand. Warmth fills your chest. You smile, your eyes sparkling.

“You are welcome”, and with that you turn around and finally walk to your seat with the biggest grin on your face.

It turns out to be impossible trying to concentrate on today’s lecture. Not only because the current topic is deadly boring, but also because Yoongi is just so much more fun to gaze at. You have found the perfect seat to sit in to get the best view of his side profile. He takes cautious sips of his coffee first, probably not to burn his tongue. He stares at it with big eyes, it seems almost as if he is surprised to taste coffee in his mouth. What else had he expected? That you had pranked him and had actually gotten tea or hot chocolate? You wouldn’t do that. Yoongi looks around for a moment before he dares to smile the smallest, most delicate smiles you have ever seen. It feels like someone decided to squeeze your heart in your chest. Your present made him smile, gosh you are so happy right now. Yoongi takes another sip, longer this time. His tongue darts out, licking the coffee off his pouty lips. As if someone had pushed a button Yoongi’s face begins to practically glow, his smile growing.

He puts the coffee down, hiding his hands between his legs and lowering his head. He is still smiling, closing his eyes and scrunching his nose up, his shoulders rising to his ears. He is actually getting giddy over a cup of coffee, your heart does somersaults in your chest.

The lecture soon finds its end and as quickly as you had sat down you are up again, rushing down the stairs to catch up on Yoongi. He had walked out of the lecture hall before the professor even announced this week’s readings, throwing the empty cup of coffee into the bin and buckling his backbag. You thankfully meet him in the hallways, his head lowered and his books pressed to his chest. You tap his arm, making him flinch. He turns his head, looking at you for the briefest of moments.

“Did you like the coffee? It seemed like you did.”

Yoongi nods, clutching his books tighter to his chest.

“You know I wanted to ask you something.”

Yoongi swallows, slowing down his steps. It almost seems as if he is getting anxious.

“No, actually first I want to apologize for disturbing your practice last Saturday, I really didn’t mean to be intrusive or anything.”

Yoongi wets his lips, his fingers play with the corner of one of his textbooks.

“I-it’s okay.”

He speeds up again, seemingly less anxious than before.

“But what I wanted to ask you. Where did you learn to play like that? I have never heard anything like it before, it was amazing.”

Yoongi’s face heats up, his cheeks become deep red, so does his cute button nose.

“I t-taught it m-mys-“, Yoongi starts only to get interrupted by two girls rushing up to him.

They press themselves between you and him, their faces contorted in anger.

“Get away from her you fucking creep!” the taller of the two girls screams, pushing Yoongi back by his chest.

He stumbles backwards, nearly bumping into a guy before he manages to catch himself. The guy tells him to “be careful freak” and continues strutting down the hallway afterwards.

One of the girls turns to you, looking worried. She cups your face, examining your features.

“Did this pervert harass you? He didn’t touch you, right? Or worse, hurt you?” she asks, genuinely worried.

You shake her off.

“What? Of course he didn’t. Why should he?” you growl furrowing your brows in annoyance.

The girl's face lights up in anger. She quickly turns around now staring at Yoongi.

“You think you can get through with this, freak? I swear if you keep talking to her I’ll kill you myself”, she screams, nearly jumping at Yoongi if her friend wouldn’t hold her back.

Yoongi lowers his head, blinking rapidly.

“I-I’m s-sorry”, he whispers.  

It sounds as if he is in pain, his voice hoarse and little. It breaks your heart, your eyes burn in unshed tears.

“What was that? Speak up!” the girl yells.

Yoongi flinches, blinking again, breathing quickly.

“He said he is sorry! Are you deaf or something? Even I could hear him and I am standing right here behind you!” you say loudly, circling the two girls to stand next to Yoongi.

They stare at you as if you were crazy. As a matter of fact everyone was staring at you, frozen on the hallway and as quiet as the night. It feels as if everyone was holding their breath, waiting for what you will do next.

“Come on Yoongi, let’s leave”, you turn to him.

Gasps echo in the bright hallway before everyone starts to whisper loudly. The girls' mouths fall open, their eyes becoming big. Yoongi looks at you, just as confused as everyone else. You give him a reassuring nod, smiling. It is everything Yoongi needed to finally start moving, following you down the hallway with small steps. Eyes follow you, judging you with so much disgust it makes your chest feel tight. You try to tell yourself that this was the right decision, that you don’t need their approval and fake smiles, that being nice to someone is worth a thousand times more than getting a better “status”. But as the stares don’t stop and the mean whispered words get louder, every step you take feels heavier and heavier. Only when you are finally outside at a quiet spot in the school garden and no other person is close to you, the suffocating feeling in your chest subsides. You sit down on the bench, Yoongi follows you.

“Are you okay? Do you want to be alone?” you break the burdensome silence.

“No”, Yoongi whispers shakily. He shakes his head, having his eyes pressed closed.

“Then I’ll stay with you.”

Seconds pass, minutes, maybe even hours in which you stay by his side in complete silence. You don’t need to talk to him and he doesn’t need to talk to you, you both understand how much you each need the quiet right now. Just sitting next to each other, getting lost in your own thoughts, is enough comfort for you and him. You can watch the sun set behind your back, the shadows you and Yoongi cast getting longer and longer with every passing minute. With the warm sunlight disappearing behind the tall trees the air is getting a lot colder, cooling down your skin until goosebumps appear on it. Yoongi seems to be cold too, shivering just the slightest bit and keeping his folded hands between his legs.

“You know”, you say quietly as to not startle him too much.

Yoongi hums.

“I don’t believe the rumors, you don’t seem like a bad person to me. On the contrary, I actually think you are pretty nice.”

Yoongi turns his head to stare at you dumbfounded.

“I mean it, maybe it’s because I’m new here and didn’t really witness any of the real drama, but I just don’t believe that you are a bad person.”

Yoongi blinks as if he wanted to get rid of tears before he looks away.

“W-why n-not?”

“Why not? Well, because I just, I don’t know, I just have this feeling about you. You may be a little shy but you sure as hell aren’t evil. Also being shy isn’t a bad thing, so if that’s what people dislike about you then fuck them, I won’t join them on their stupid hate train. ”

Silence hangs between you and him as he thinks your words over. You can see his brain practically realise the importance of your words. Confusion, hurt, relief, happiness his face changes emotions every second. He blinks, a means to clear his mind and get him back down to earth.

“Thank you”, he breathes, not daring to look into your eyes as his words bare far too much importance to him and he can’t seem to get enough courage to look at you.

“Don’t mention it.”

You lean back on the bench, sighing in relaxation. The street lamps have turned on minutes ago, illuminating the white gravel paths in a cool light. Thousands of insects buzz above your heads, hyptnotised by the blinding lights. A few people have walked past you in the last hour, giving you a quick judging look before quickening their steps. Not one dares to actually talk to you. Good, you think, at least they won’t stress out Yoongi again. Let them stare, if they think this is what brings them joy in their sad lives then let them stare.

The air gets even colder, wind had started to blow, making both you and Yoongi shiver.

“It’s getting rather cold don’t you think?”

Yoongi nods, wrapping his arms around his torso as a means of keeping himself warm. His legs are shaking, the holes in his black jeans doing little to shield him from the wind. Would it be weird to offer him your scarf? Most likely it would.

“Do you perhaps want to go somewhere warmer? The cafeteria perhaps or the practice rooms?” you suggest instead, but Yoongi shakes his head.

“I want t-to go h-home”, he says, shivering even more than before.

“Home? Oh, alright sure that’s also a plan. Do you want me to accompany you?”

Yoongi shakes his head again.

“No just”, he sighs, “just s-stay away from me. It’s better for, for y-you”, he says, breaking your heart.

“But-“

“I-I’m sorry for, for e-everything”, he looks at you, his eyes glistening sadly in the dim lights.

He stands up, clutching his books like always, pulling his hood further down his face.

“Yoongi come on, don’t do this again. I’m trying to be your friend, not your enemy”, you plead, standing up as well.

You know he must be scared of the foreign feeling of someone offering him warmth, but he shouldn’t keep himself from experiencing it. He deserves to have a friend, to have someone to lean on to and someone who will be there for him when the world seems to be against him. Why can’t he see that he is worthy of friendship?

He seems to hesitate for a moment, gnawing on his lower lip.

“T-thank you for the, the c-coffee”, he mumbles finally.

“I-“, you sigh in defeat, “sure no need to thank me”, you mumble, letting your shoulders sack in sadness.

He stares at you for a moment. His whole body screams at him to reach out and pat your shoulder, to take your hand and shake it as a means to thank you. His heart yearns for him to say the right words, to tell you that he would love to hang out with you some more, that he thinks you are a good person too. But he just can’t, he can’t exploit your good heart just so he won’t be so alone anymore. It wouldn’t be fair to you, you deserve to be popular, to run around the hallways without people instantly starting to badmouth you for you to hear and you deserve to have friends, who actually know how to be a proper adult.

So just with everyone, who had tried before, Yoongi does the one thing he is best at, pushing you away, building a wall around his heart and refusing to let in the warmth you offer him.

“Bye”, he murmurs, turning around.

“Bye”, you whisper, sounding so painfully hopeless it breaks Yoongi’s heart.

You watch him walk down the gravel paths, biting your tongue to stop yourself from crying in frustration. All you do to try and get his trust seems to be wrong. You should just give up, accept that he will never accept your friendship, but dear god does this thought tear your heart apart. He may be walking away from you tonight, but you know he won’t be walking out of your heart for a long time, you grew too fond of him to let him go that easily.

Two very restless sleeps later your situation seemed to have worsened. People seem to dodge you when you walk down the hallways, giving you a wide berth when you pass them by on the hallways. You don’t hear them whisper yet, thankfully they don’t seem to dislike you that much already. But it still sucked, being practically the new attraction to stare at just because you defended a man innocent of all accusations. You really start to hate this school, you should have stayed in your little town with the mediocre music program, at least people didn’t seem to care about status or titles back there. The only important thing in their lives was music and the desire to create pieces so beautiful it made your chest glow in happiness. But now the only thing people seemed to care about was stupid rumors and how popular someone was.

You scoff, rolling your eyes when three guys pass you with judging looks. Words really seem to spread fast in this school, it seemed like everyone was against you now.

Suddenly Jimin and Jungkook appear in your vision, both of them leaned against a locker talking to a blond-haired man. You can’t make out his face, all you can see are his broad shoulders which shield half of Jungkook’s face from you.

You walk closer, watching the three men with curious eyes. Are they going to ignore you too?

“Hey guys”, you say loudly, stepping into the circle of the three men.

The conversation stops, the blond-haired man looks at you from the corner of his eyes.

“Isn’t that the girl that defended the freak? Why is she talking to us?” he asks, cocking up an eyebrow.

Jungkook and Jimin seem to be clearly embarrassed, both of them scratching the backs of their necks whilst chuckling awkwardly.

“I have a name, you know?” you spit, sending the tall man an annoyed look.

He scoffs, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“Really? You do? That’s good for you”, he almost sounds amused by the whole situation, grinning.

“Okay Seokjin I think that’s enough now”, Jimin throws in, putting his hand on the blond man's shoulder.

Seokjin scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“Sure whatever, I don’t think I want to be here anymore. You know how to reach me if you decided what to do. See you tomorrow guys”, he says, giving both Jungkook and Jimin a brotherly pat on the shoulder with a bright smile on his face.

“See you tomorrow hyung”, Jungkook smiles, bowing his head at the blond man.

Seokjin looks at you for a moment, his eyes scanning over your features before he chuckles amusedly. He shakes his head in disappointment, turning his back to you before he walks down the hallway to chat with someone else.

“What a douchebag”, you grumble, sending a dark look down the hallway where Seokjin is currently standing.

“What else did you expect? We warned you, didn't we?” Jungkook murmurs.

You look back at your friend, surprised by his harsh words. His eyes are ice cold, his jaw clenched and veins are popping out on the side of his neck.

“So you are against me too?”

“I’m definitely not on your side no. Unlike you, I actually care what other people think of me”, he retorts.

“Are you serious right now?” you gasp, swallowing down the painful lump in your throat.

Jungkook can’t be serious right now, he wouldn’t treat you like that.

“Do I look like I’m joking to you?”

Your mouth falls open, you blink rapidly. You seem to be lost for words, dumbfounded and hurt by his cold treatment.

“Alriiight guys I think it’s time we relocate this conversation to somewhere more private”, Jimin throws in, taking both yours and Jungkook’s hands and pulling you down the hallway.

“Where the hell are you taking us?” Jungkook protests, wiggling his arm to get himself free of Jimin’s tight grip.

“The bench. You two need to talk about everything. In private”, Jimin says determinedly, pushing himself through the crowd of people.

“Yes, good idea let’s walk through the whole school where everyone can see us”, Jungkook presses out through gritted teeth.

“Hush now”, Jimin spits, squeezing Jungkook’s hand painfully hard.

The latter whines quietly, scrunching his nose up in pain. Jimin’s rough handling works, Jungkook quiets down, accepting his fate all whilst suffering in silence.

You can’t contain your smile, Jimin’s hand holding you gently comforts you in a weird way. It had been ages since someone last granted you any kind of physical affection, so it is nice not feeling like you are poisonous to touch for once.

Thankfully your spot is empty when you arrive, two birds singing in the tree the only company you have. Jimin sits both of you down, wiggling himself between you and Jungkook. He puts his hands on each your thighs, caressing your skin with gentle strokes of his palm.

“I really don’t like you two fighting like this. I know a lot of things happened lately and a lot of things changed, but please guys don’t let this get between us. We are better than this”

Jungkook scoffs, turning his shoulder to you and Jimin, crossing his arms in front of his chest.

“What are you trying to do here hyung?” he mumbles.

“Saving our friendship, so behave Jungkook”, Jimin retorts, sending Jungkook a warning glare.

The younger man grows smaller underneath Jimin’s dark eyes, gnawing on his lower lip.

“Hyung, why are you putting this on-“ he starts but Jimin interrupts him.

“Kookie, do you really think people staring will keep me from loving ___? She is our friend and I don’t abandon my friends that easily.”

“Neither do I”, Jungkook growls, “but I still don’t know why you are trying to make me the villain here”, he adds.

Jimin scoffs in frustration.

“Jungkook”, he warns, “I’m trying to help you guys here, can’t you see that ___ needs us right now?” he says as he puts a gentle hand on your thigh.

Jimin’s words hit deeper than you would have imagined. You blink, your eyes are tearing up, your lips quivering. You lower your head, folding your hands on your lap before your shoulders suddenly start to shake.

Both Jimin’s and Jungkook’s heads snap into your direction, staring at you with big eyes.

“No ___ please don’t cry, hey sweetie I am here, don’t cry anymore”, Jimin says, wrapping his arms around you and squeezing you to his chest.

“I can’t stand these people, I really can’t. Why is everyone so obsessed with status here? I hate it, I hate it so much”, you hiccup, clutching onto Jimin’s shirt.

Deep down Jungkook knows you had also meant him and his obsession with keeping his white vest clean. He lowers his eyes in shame, starting to play with the sleeves of his sweater.

“I know I’m stupid to make it my goal to befriend the one person everyone seems to hate, but do I really deserve to be stared at and ignored just because I offered someone friendship?”

You look up, staring into Jimin’s eyes. Jimin cups your cheeks, brushing his thumb over your tearstained skin. He shakes his head, not daring to speak.

“And Yoongi isn’t a bad guy. Everyone got it wrong, he is neither a pervert nor is he a creep, so stop calling him a freak, alright?”

You can’t help but send Jungkook a dark look. He starts to blush, gnawing on his lower lip.

“He really isn’t evil or dangerous, the only reason why people treat him that badly is because they know he is too shy to defend himself.”

“But everyone said that it’s true, I just followed everyone”, Jungkook mumbles, his own lip quivering.

“And you see that’s your problem Jungkook. You don’t need the opinion of every single student here, the only opinions that matter are the ones of the people you love and your own, the other ones are unimportant.”

“But I don’t want to be alone, people will hate me”, Jungkook confesses, suddenly holding onto Jimin’s hand as if seeking comfort.

“You are not alone, you have us”, Jimin says, nudging Jungkook’s chest with his shoulder, "now come here and get your cuddles.

Jungkook’s lips twitch up into a shy smile, his eyes fluttering shut before he rests his forehead against Jimin’s head. His right hand comes to rest on yours, engulfing you in warmth.

"Now apologize Kookie", Jimin whispers, playing with Jungkook’s hair.

“I'm sorry ___. You weren’t stupid, the only one who was stupid here is me. I'll trust your judgement from now on”, he gives your hand a gentle squeeze, nuzzling his nose against Jimin’s skin as he chases the comfort it brings him.

“That’s good to hear Kookie, I’m glad that your opinion on my plan changed”, you smile.

“Yeah”, Jungkook chuckles breathlessly.

“___?”

“Yeah Jimin?”

“Can you maybe tell us what exactly made you decide to give Yoongi a chance? I mean, we did warn you and you could have believed us and followed everyone but you didn’t. Why?”

“Because when I looked into his eyes, I couldn’t sense anything evil behind them, he gave me a feeling of innocence, of fear and panic, but not that of an evil mastermind planning to creep on me.”

“Hm, okay”, Jimin says.

Both Jungkook and Jimin exchange a quick look, silently communicating about your choice of words. His eyes? His eyes were the crucial factor to your decision? And they thought he may have helped you with something or rescued you out of a tricky situation.

“If you think so”, Jungkook mumbles, not daring to look into your eyes whilst speaking, too scared you may think he is insincere.

He doesn’t even know himself if he means his words or not, it’s a lot of getting used to right now, having to accept your plan on making Yoongi your friend and the judging stares that will be send their ways as well for still hanging out with you. But Jimin is right, he can’t abandon you like that, his heart would ache too much for you. So he just needs to get over his fears, no matter how hard it is.

“So we are still friends right? And I can count on you not to ignore me in the hallways?” you ask, looking between Jungkook and Jimin.

They nod without a second of hesitation.

“Sure you can”, Jimin assures you, smiling brightly.

“Thank you”, you giggle, giving Jimin’s hand a gentle squeeze.

You both look at Jungkook, waiting for his answer. He bites his lower lip in contemplation.

Jimin nudges Jungkook’s knee with his own, sending him a warning look.

“Y-yeah, you can”, he breathes, nodding his head.

“Great, I’m glad”, you pat his hand.

It makes him smile a lopsided smile, his eyes not daring to look into yours.

It’s a lot of getting used to, for all of you, but you will get through it, you are sure of it.

[dvjjikook]

Why do people hate BTS Jimin?.( A topic that needs to be explained. )

So I thought to create a post about the reasons that made some people to hate Park Jimin, also known as the lead vocalist + dancer of the popular Kpop band BTS. There are plenty of reasons that led some people to hate Jimin and today i thought to explain few of those.

Why do some people hate Park jimin?. Let’s begin.

1. Because he is gorgeous.

Yes, being gorgeous also attracts other’s hate. As far as i know, some fan girls who call themselves ‘armys’ post hate comments about jimin in social media but when someone asks them to stop because it harms jimin’s reputation, they never accept that they did wrong. They just try to get away from the situation while defending themselves.

I have seen a lot of comments about jimin looking feminine. Some people use this one excuse to humiliate him but let me to say this one thing. Looking feminine is not something that you should be ashamed of but using someone’s appearance to bully him/her is something that you should definitely be ashamed of. 

Jimin is not the only one who looks feminine to these people who are from different countries, all around the world. They compare majority of kpop idols to females because they ware makeup.The Korean body type in general is a little bit of skinny and less muscular than the other races. Also average height of korean men is a bit shorter than the other races. Koreans have less facial and body hair than stereo typically other races. So in Korea this is what most of the boys who are in their 20′s look like. Kpop idols also ware makeup and take good care of their skin. They also have to dress well in order to look good when they perform so there is nothing to be surprised of them looking a bit feminine. Even though some guys who are famous for being muscular in south korea are not all ripped or overly muscular. So it’s not wise to label jimin as a feminine boy without getting to know things well.

On the other hand, is that a crime to look feminine?. I had to ask this because some people assumed that jimin is a transgender. Is that one of your business?. It doesn’t matter to us aka his fans since we are here to support him and bts, we are not here to dig into his personal life. Personally i don’t think that he is a transgender because there is no proof. His childhood photos proves that he is a male from birth.

Even though i have explained some things about how is it a normal thing to look a bit feminine in south korea, i like to say this too. If i am being honest, i accept that jimin looks a bit feminine than his fellow band mates. I think that’s because he wears dangling earrings, sparkling necklaces , silver rings and some times even chokers. He posts pictures on twitter with all fluffy hair, pouty lips and wide eyes. He also filters his photos to look more attractive but is that a crime.? He just likes to look beautiful and no one can judge him for doing that. He can do whatever he wants with his life and with his body.

These fan girls who are into their different biases want to find an excuse to throw hate at Park jimin and that’s why they keep using his appearance like this. They are just jealous because he is more good looking than them even though he is a boy.

The simple word’ handsome’ is not worthy to describe jimin neither the word ‘beautiful.’ The most suitable word to describe his amazing looks is the word called ‘gorgeous’. 

2. Because he has a kind heart.

Jimin truly has a kind heart. Most of the armys know this fact. When something bad happens to someone jimin knows, he is the first to get worried. He cares about other’s opinions and their needs individually. When it comes to taking care of his band mates, he is unstoppable. He cares about his band mates so much and he shows it often to the whole world. There is no need to show, his band mates have already accepted that he is the most caring one in their group. When someone from his band gets injured, he is the first to worry. He proceeds to make them happy no matter what. He often tells others to not to worry about him even though he gets hurt some times.

Not only his band mates get to see this emotional side of jimin. He also loves animals a lot. The way he treats to v’s puppy is so amazing. It makes me to think that he will be a great dad in the near future.

Jimin often make donations to educational programs. He helps his school a lot and he is so sweet to his tutors. 

I can’t still believe that a person who is sweet as jimin getting this much hate from some people. so i want to remind this,

People who are heartless can’t stand people who have hearts.

3. Because he is talented.

“Why jimin got selected to bts?”. I saw this comment when i was reading some comments of a jimin fmv. I laughed at the second i finished reading it. This is what called jealousy. When these people see jimin getting popular because of his hard work, they start to talk bad about him instead of genuinely being happy about what he achieves. 

Anyways, i have the answer to this person’s question. 

Jimin got selected to bts just because he is talented enough. I can talk about how talented he is for days, still his list of talents will not end. He is the most talented person i have ever seen if i am being honest. He is a dance god and he proves it every time they perform on stage. Plus he is not a member of the bts dance line if the way he dance is not that good. Him, j hope and jungkook are the ones who help other members when it comes to learning new choreographies. Jin himself admitted that jimin helps him a lot to learn new techniques when it comes to dance.

Also he is a great singer. I don’t have to explain this since practically everyone in this fandom knows this. But i gotta say that he can nail those high notes so well. That’s what most of the people expect from a great singer right?. Also his voice suits him really well. The way he sings can make you feel like you are floating in the air. His voice can make you feel relaxed and calm.

All the members of bts admired the way jimin performs on stage. 

By the way if jimin is not this much talented, bts would never be able to get this much popularity. So people who always find bad about jimin should know that jimin plays an important role in bts.

4. Because he can be both sexy and cute.

People also hate him because he is sexy. He got some nice abs and sexy thighs. Even though he is not that much tall, his body is still perfect. I found him so sexy in blood sweat and tears era. He was just so amazing, he still is. He has this sexy look that can attract both males and females alike.

He is also very cute if you ask me. Especially when he does aegyo. Even the members can’t handle his level of aegyo. Personally i think that he has this natural cuteness and sometimes he behaves like a cute lil kitten. I am so done with this human jimin who can play both cute and sexy roles.

I figured out that some of the shippers who ship different ships label his cute and clingy behavior towards his fellow members as a slutty thing. This is a serious situation. i know that everyone has a right to ship members with each other but no one has the right to call him slutty. He can’t be a slut just because he likes skinship with his band mates. It’s just his nature and he likes to get love and attention from others. if it doesn’t bother his 6 band mates then why does it bother you?.

If you don’t like him, then simply skip his pictures, videos and stuff. if you love your ship, then live with your ship forever even if it’s not real but never try to throw hate at him.

5. Because he is popular.

Yes, No matter how haters try to let him down. There are people who love jimin from the bottom of their hearts. There are people who adore his hard work. There are people who think that he deserves everything he got so far. He got some great friends, got so many fans who love him and adore him. He is indeed lucky. He got the attention of famous american hosts and even khalid likes him. 

but i still think that he deserves more.

He don’t deserve to get a single hate comment according to me because he have done nothing wrong other than giving his best to us, armys.

6. Because BTS loves him.

BTS loves jimin a lot, not only because he is another member but because of his amazing personality. Even though he is not the youngest, they still treat him like that. They all know that jimin has some insecurities due to these hate comments. so they are ready to protect him no matter what.

There are people who are jealous about this too. I have seen the way of some jk biases are complaining about jimin being treated like the youngest. i mean how immature can a person be.?. they are all like an one family, so what if they treat him like the youngest?. jungkook is obviously the youngest but in korea , the youngest one is the one who always acts cute. so they treat him like the youngest sometimes. jungkook himself treats him like that too.

7. Because some people marry his posters.

All of you know this right?. i am not going to add salt to it. No way but there are people who are even ready to marry jimin’s posters. Not all the people and fans are jimin haters. So haters hate him for this too. They are quick to label him as a gay idol just because this man married his posters.

Being gay is not a crime, he can be gay if he wants to. What’s your problem?.

So i wrote this just because i felt like doing so. I did not mean to hurt anyone’s feelings but if someone gets hurt from this post, he or she is a person who hates jimin.

I want you to say this loud with me.

‘Haters gonna hate , players gonna play’

‘live a life man.’

( Thank you RM )

So if you like this post, please leave a comment.

[torestoreamends]

Harry Potter and the Cursed Child Recap: Cast Four – 22/23 & 26 May (Part One)

On Wednesday and Thursday I saw Cast Four for the first time. I came out of those performances unsure how I felt about the cast and the changes to the show. There was a lot that I didn’t like, and I didn’t feel excited about the year ahead at all. Looking back now, I was exhausted when I was watching those shows. I didn’t take much in, and when I was trying to write my recap I knew I was missing a lot. I felt neither passionate about nor proud of what I was writing. 

So on Sunday I got another ticket and tried again. I ended up sitting further back than I have in a year and a half, but also in the second most central seat I’ve had in a year. And it helped. 

I’ve always found that sitting close to the stage you focus on the action close to the front a lot more. It’s difficult to get the depth of what’s going on. When you sit slightly further back it’s far easier to take in the choreography, and what I was unhappy with on Wednesday and Thursday was largely the choreographic changes. 

My Sunday seat gave me a view like I was looking at a model box of the show — it was the sort of view the show was designed to be seen from. All the shapes came out, the lighting, the details of the movement, plus it was an absolute gift of a show. I fell in love with portrayals and changes I hadn’t been certain of, and fell even more deeply in love with the things I’d already enjoyed. 

So, without further ado, here are some thoughts about the new portrayals we’ve got (including our first cover of the year — the wonderful Gordon Millar as Karl etc.), followed by a recap of Sunday’s show, combined with thoughts from Wednesday and Thursday. 

Because this got exceptionally long (my second longest recap ever), I’ve split it in half. Part One is below, and Part Two can be found here.

*

David Mara — Station Master

If I had to pick anyone to step into Martin’s shoes, it would have been David. He was great in every role I saw him cover last year, and he was great in this role too. I like the strange whistle he does at the start of the scene — it reminds me of someone else who used to do proper signalling style whistles — and it’s fun to watch him looking with confusion at the boys as they chat in their corner (although I am concerned by how much he must overhear). I can’t wait to see this scene develop over the year.

Lucy Mangan — Myrtle

I think Lucy’s going to be a really excellent Myrtle (and I can’t wait to see her cover Delphi too). There were some great over the top little touches to her portrayal. When she did ‘the weeping after he was taken’, she cried once then stopped, cried again then stopped, then one of the boys started trying to talk so she held a hand up to stop him while she cried a third time. It’s ridiculous little details like that, which make me most excited to see her again. 

Blythe Duff — Professor McGonagall

They honestly couldn’t have found a better person to take over from Sandy. Blythe is the first McGonagall not to have the Maggie Smith look, but that actually made me love her more. It was her warmth and charm and sparkle that made her feel like McGonagall, and I would probably fight to the death for her already.

Her Trolley Witch was also gorgeous. I’ve seen many Trolley Witch debuts over the years, and even ones I ultimately come to love have felt disappointing first time round, but not this one. She captured the right feeling of ancient, authoritative power so perfectly. I cannot wait to see her again.

Gordon Millar as Karl

Our first cover of the year, and what a good one. On Wednesday and Thursday he went straight onto my ‘must watch’ list, so a big part of me deciding to go for a ticket on Sunday was the desire to see him. 

His Karl is actually quite sweet (which I think stems from Gordon being a lovely, funny human being), but in the St Oswald’s scene Gordon’s character is an absolute — to put it bluntly — dick. He’s a bully, a nasty piece of work, and it really helps the scene (more on that later). I also loved Gordon’s Krum a lot. This one has great movement (like seemingly everyone in the cast), and I cannot wait to see more of him.

Luke Sumner and Emma-May Uden as Yann and Polly

I feel bad lumping these two together but in the show they really did come as a pair. They were perfect fake, popular, nasty individuals. I’ve never hated Yann and Polly more, and I mean that in the best possible way. They were just the sort of people who would bully Albus and Scorpius, and I loved it.

Ronnie Lee as Craig

My heart belongs to Ronnie. There was just something so likeable about him. Sometimes Craig feels like a little ray of sunshine, and that’s just how it should be. Also, I appreciate the boldness of someone who’ll full on lie on the death table, with both feet in the air, so it looks like they’ve been blasted off their feet and are falling to the ground in slow motion. That was an excellent death.

Another thing I noticed about Ronnie was his dance talent. There was a Mackley-esque fierceness to his Death Eater dance, and he was just generally brilliant at the movement. This whole cast is so noticeably strong on the movement — possibly the strongest so far.

Also, while I’m talking about Ronnie I have to mention the other two members of the most adorable trio of Slytherin boys ever — there’s Gordon, as mentioned above, and Duncan Shelton. They had some chants going on in the first task, some excitable stampy feet, and just lots of general sweetness. I can’t wait to get to know these three better. They’re going to be brilliant.

Kathryn Meisle as Umbridge

One of our very first Hogwarts foreign exchange students. I thought she did a really good job, and I particularly thought her Petunia was good. Also, she did a little skip when she was going off after telling Scorpius he was ruining Voldemort, which was just the perfect touch of sweet, girlish, disgusting Umbridge.

Madeleine Walker as Delphi

I had two first impressions of Madeleine as Delphi. First, I don’t know how many of you have seen Puffs, but in terms of attitude and eyeliner she looked just like Megan — like she’s trying to be edgy but is actually just a nerd. My other first impression, related to that, was that Delphi was exactly the sort of person that Albus and Scorpius would want to be friends with. 

She’s awkward and nerdy and has the same vibe as they do. It’s easy to see how well she’s playing them, especially in Part One. But at the same time, once she’s revealed her true self she doesn’t change much, and there’s something very creepy about that. This person who seems so harmless and nice has all this evil lurking literally right under the surface, and she holds very little of herself back. 

It should also be said that at some point this year, Madeleine is going to deliver the wildest Torture Scene we’ve ever had. Even on Sunday she absolutely blew me away, and it’s only going to get better. I’m so excited. 

Michelle Gayle as Hermione

I liked Michelle‘s Hermione. She had a bit of the know-it-all vibe, and her Hermione felt quite young. There was this obvious relation to book Hermione that worked well. I particularly liked her scene in Harry’s office right at the start of the play. She felt like Harry’s friend from the books. I also think that she’s got a lot of great thoughts about the character, and I can’t wait to see her engage with them throughout her performance and develop them over the year.

She made a great attempt to play Delphi Polyjuiced, which I really appreciated. That was a big highlight from her. It’s surprising how rare it is to see the adults actually try to replicate what the kids are doing (aside from Jamie B, who’s a master of the art).

Rayxia Ojo as Rose

Rayxia’s back, and it’s wonderful. Her Rose has always seemed so grown up and mature, and next to Dominic’s Albus she feels particularly so, just because she looks so tall beside him. It’s weird because in all the ensemble scenes she’s one of the shortest people around. Anyway, it’s great to have her back in the show, she works wonderfully with Michelle (there’s a similarity of character there that’s really nice), and I can’t wait to see more from her.

Ryan Mackay as James

I’ve seen Ryan as James a few times before, and always enjoyed him, but he seems to have come into his own with this cast. He particularly owned the Lily and James death scene, and it was uncanny how much he and Dom looked like brothers when they were standing near each in the opening scene. I also adored his Cedric, particularly on Sunday, and he has a very fine background moment in St Oswald’s that I truly think helps make the scene palatable. I’m so pleased he gets an expanded role with this cast and seems to be flourishing with it. 

Dominic Short as Albus

Sometimes when I watch someone play a character in this show for the first time I feel an instant comfort in their portrayal, and that was how I felt with Dom. It was a mixed blessing because I felt so comfortable and confident in him that I didn’t pay him as much attention as I should have done (there was lot to take in), but I really loved him. Thankfully, on Sunday I get to pay a lot closer attention to him, and he absolutely blew me away. Even from near the back of the stalls his expressiveness drew me in. 

His Albus has a certain happiness to him. He’s less broken than the last couple have been. There’s genuine jubilation in his portrayal at certain moments, like when he casts some of the spells successfully and when they figure out how to get a message to Harry.

There are many moments when he reminded me vividly of Sam’s Albus (which will never be a problem), and I loved the flashes of anger and emotion. On first viewing I felt that he was quite a young Albus, especially after Joe whose Albus was quite mature and surprisingly thoughtful. However, on second viewing he felt a lot more self-aware, and there was some real tenderness there. Some absolutely beautiful moments.

One of my favourite things about him was that in Part One he feels wrapped up in his own problems, and you can clearly see the spiral from an enthusiastic boy looking forward to going to Hogwarts to an angry, miserable, withdrawn young man by fourth year. The transition scene was perfectly played in that regard.

I really was very impressed by him. I think he’s the Albus they’ve been trying to cast since the show opened. He has Sam’s fierce anger and prickliness, with Theo’s emotion, Joe’s humour, and an ability to adapt and change to what’s going on around him. We’re only at the start and already he’s sparking my imagination and making me desperate to see more. This is going to be the most excellent year.

*

So, with those first impressions out of the way, let’s get into some changes and great character moments.

Opening and transition scene (Act One, Scenes One to Four)

The weird thing about a first show, especially one in which the person playing the Sorting Hat is staying the same, is that for the first few seconds nothing feels different. It could be any other show. But then the first member of the ensemble walks out and you realise that everything has changed.

There’s a new bit of choreography in the first scene that I was pre-warned of but of course completely forgot about until it happened, so it took me by surprise. The Sorting Hat (who now wears glasses as part of his costume – fun facts) stands in the middle of the stage and manipulates the people around him. There’s a whole group that he diverts with a flash of light, a man he turns round with a gesture, and he makes the woman at the front of the stage walk round her suitcase.

As someone who loves the Sorting Hat, his role in the play, and what it means, the whole interaction felt a bit random. It’s obviously a flashy opening to the show, with a bit of magic, but I’ve never seen the Sorting Hat as a manipulator. I’ve realised recently that he’s a protector and guardian of the boys (particularly of Scorpius) in the same way that Hagrid is a protector of Harry, and he’s also the bringer of magic to the show, but this doesn’t seem to add anything to that. If anything, there needed to be more of the manipulation – there were only three interactions, so it didn’t actually make that much of an impact on someone seeing it of the first time. To me it ought to be go big or go home.

On the second viewing I realised that technically bringing Harry onto Platform 9 3/4 could count as one of the manipulations (it’s got the same sound effect associated with it), and I also realised that he never seems to touch a group that has Delphi in. So maybe there is some meaning in there if you dig a bit.

The first big line change is Lily’s line in the opening scene, which is no longer ‘Are they here? Maybe they didn’t come’. It’s not her wondering whether the Granger-Weasleys are late, and lamenting that they’re always late. Thankfully this isn’t a line from the epilogue, so the change doesn’t really have that much impact. It’s another of the random changes that we now see throughout the show – ones that don’t really make much of a difference, and it’s unclear why they were made.

In this opening scene, seeing Dom and Ryan side by side showed how perfect their casting as brothers is. They look so similar, particularly in face shape. 

Watching this cast for a second time from a distance let me appreciate a really cool James moment properly for the first time. When Albus is being sorted, James and Scorpius are on complete opposite sides of the stage, perfectly symmetrical, and they’re the only two people in the crowd picked out by a spotlight, which illuminates both their faces. It’s like Albus’s Sorting is visibly tearing him between his family and his new best friend, and it lets you see both their reactions perfectly — James’s bewilderment and Scorpius’s disbelieving excitement. 

Going back to the opening scene, we got to see the first glimpse of Dom’s Albus before anything happens to him. There’s a youthful joy there. He laughs at Ron’s jokes and seems to be relaxed around his family. He’s genuinely excited to be going to Hogwarts. Until he gets there…

There are directions throughout the transition scene that with each passing year, Albus gets more withdrawn and miserable, and that’s just how Dom played it. You could see the process of Albus becoming increasingly demoralised with life at Hogwarts, and it was wonderful. Right from the start, Dom had such ownership over Albus, putting his stamp on the role, and even just the first scene made me excited to see him in Part Two – it was an excellent start.

In the first show everything was technically perfect, but in the show on Sunday, the fire didn’t work on the Incendio trick. However, Dom’s cover for it was perfect, and added something to the character. He just sighed very heavily and sort of threw his hands in the hair as he said he didn’t expect it to work anyway. I never realised before how that line is so open to all possibilities.

The next few obvious changes came in the transition scene: Scorpius now offers Rose a rose in London (is it a trick rose? It looked like it had a collapsible stem to me), also, when the boys’ potion explodes, the kids around Albus and Scorpius flop forwards instead of bending backwards. And then, of course, you get the wand dance.

Dominic was so bold in the wand dance, which I really enjoyed. Nothing was held back and everything was extended and gone for. There was actually lots I loved about the new choreography in this scene too (I think it was one of the biggest successes of all the changed elements). There are lots of circles and lines, and my favourite moment was when all the other kids circled round Albus, leaning in and looming over him. I also liked that he got a moment to fit in and help the others – just a brief flash of success, that must be all the more painful for being so fleeting.

The new wand dance begins with a big flashy trick – the current shot of fire now connects up to a sort of flaming rope on the ceiling, so that brief spark flies all the way from the bottom to the top of the stage. It ends with the usual red smoke, and one of the other kids taunting Albus: “Even his wand wants to be in Gryffindor”.

To briefly backtrack, I need to give a quick shoutout to Dom’s “I stayed for your sweets” from Sunday. He did a little dad dance as he said it, and I can only describe it as like he was milking a cow. A little up and down motion with his hands, fists clenched. I know it sounds weird (this show has made me write some very bizarre descriptive phrases) but he made it work, even if he did look like a ridiculous nerd doing it. 

Blanket Scene (Act One, Scenes Six and Seven)

I really liked the introduction to Delphi in the scene before the Blanket Scene. Her conversation with Albus is really sweet, and she curtised to him before she went off to talk to Amos (the first of two curtsies in the show — the second was to Scorpius when he called her The Augurey). 

One of her finest moments was when she shook hands with Harry and looked at the scars on his hand. You could feel her reading ‘I must not tell lies’ and mentally calling him out for lying right in front of her. After all, he does know about the Time-Turner, she knows he does, and she also knows that he’s lying to Amos. It was such a powerful, silent moment of judgement. A gorgeous little detail.

In the Blanket Scene itself, I adored how Dom’s Albus interacted with his siblings. Because I was so far away for the Sunday show I couldn’t actually see or hear Albus laughing at James’s antics, but I could see his shoulders bouncing from the laughter. And then when Lily comes in looking for her Potions book, Albus holds his hands up to say it’s not his fault. It’s only when Harry comes into the room that he finally sits down, perched on the edge of the bed, and from that moment he never really relaxed or seemed comfortable. His space had been invaded, and he tensed up almost immediately. 

Once they got into the scene itself, we found an angry Albus, who wasn’t afraid to raise his voice and fight back. At no point did he seem even close to accepting the blanket, and there was an expression on his face that said that he hated his dad’s reasoning for giving it to him. He knew the gift was all about Harry, and he detested it right from the word go.

One of the things I noticed about Dom’s Albus was how he always shrank back, never holding his ground. He ended up occupying parts of the stage that people don’t normally go to – only by a few centimetres sometimes, but it was still noticeable. In this scene he was pushed well back beyond the bed, and again in the final scene he hid among the graves, keeping a physical distance from Harry. In this particular scene it worked really well, the shrinking away, closing himself off, as Harry got more heated. I also loved that he said the final line of the scene the original way round: ‘No luck or love for me then’. 

Dom’s is one of the angriest Blanket Scenes we’ve had for a while. He really explodes, and it’s wonderful. He fully unfolds the blanket when he describes it as mouldy, and gives it a look of disgust that Harry is so upset by. 

St Oswald’s (Act One, Scene Thirteen)

I have now seen the new St Oswald’s three times (once on Broadway, twice in London), and I still can’t say that I’m convinced by it. 

At first I hated it. With a passion. It starts off alright, with a biscuit palace appearing onstage, then quickly descends into something quite distasteful. The stage direction in the script for this scene is about magic being done for fun. It’s supposed to be joyful, people who can do magic because they love it rather than having to do it for work or study. It should be colourful and vibrant, as well as chaotic.

What we get is certainly chaotic, but as the employees of St Oswald’s play various tricks on the residents, there’s an uncomfortable feeling to the scene. There’s not a nice spirit there. Previously the scene has been hilarious and delightful. Now it’s just mean, and borders on elder abuse, which just isn’t necessary. The scene could have been remade without going anywhere near that territory, and I do think it’s a serious misstep. Not to mention the fact that some of the tricks are so juvenile and fake (one lady gets stuck inside a sofa, with a pair of legs that are so clearly not her own sticking up in the air). 

On Sunday, my third viewing of it, however, I did start to see sort of what they were going for, and there were a couple of redeeming features. When you sit close to the front it’s difficult to see the choreography going on towards the back of the stage, so sitting further back allowed me to see Ryan’s role in the scene, and I loved what he brought to it. 

His staff member has a very brief role in proceedings, but I think it’s essential. While Gordon was bullying the residents (which he did with incredible viciousness), Ryan was looking utterly horrified. There was an expression on his face that just said ‘this is so far from okay, I’m not doing this’, and that was the point when he exited the scene. 

It was really good to see someone in character acknowledging how bad what was going on was, and showed a self-awareness that I hadn’t realised was there before. There was also the fact that at the end of the scene, when the nasty staff member gets his comeuppance (he ends up holding a teacup that’s spilling over with fire), the residents of St Oswald’s all started dancing and enjoying themselves. Those two things combined really helped me with it, and I think with further viewings I might come around to accepting it. 

It is still frustrating to have to work so hard on it though. I’ve always loved this show for its artistry and joyful magic, and this scene feels like an unnecessary step away from that. What was wrong with the original, very funny, perfectly good spirited version of the scene? 

Around the map (Act One, Scene Seventeen)

The scene where the adults talk around the map, trying to work out where Albus and Scorpius might be, is always a bit of a dark horse of a scene. It doesn’t feel that important, but there’s always so much fascinating character work going on there. And so it was in this show.

I caught Harry and Ginny having a silent conversation, in which Harry told Ginny not to mention what he said to Albus. I’m pretty sure that was because he didn’t want Draco to know, and if he had to tell Hermione he’d rather tell her in person. And yet of course Ginny brings up an opportunity for him to tell everyone. It made it feel almost as if she was betraying him, which did actually work.

There’s a lot of conflict during the show between Harry and Ginny. It’s hidden because their relationship is so strong and they do spend so much time interacting. They obviously love one another. But Ginny does find Harry’s actions difficult to swallow sometimes. She calls him out on them. And that tiny interaction in this scene really laid the groundwork for that.

Ginny’s priority throughout the play is Albus. Harry is a grown man who can look after himself, and while she loves him, she knows that Albus is by far the more vulnerable party here, and she’s going to fight every step of the way to find him and help him. In this scene, getting Harry to admit what he’s done is the best way of achieving that, so she makes it happen. She doesn’t actively tell everyone what Harry’s role in Albus’s disappearance was, but she puts him in a position that enables him to tell the truth.

To know that that came from a silent conversation between the two of them was so fascinating, and it added an extra dimension to the journey they take through the rest of the show. We could not be more lucky. Jamie and Susie are such fantastic actors, and the thought they bring to their characters is game changing.

Opening of Act Two (Act Two, Scene One)

Here were a couple of changes that I loved straight away. Before in the dream sequence, young Harry has been haunted by a single, ghostly hand, and that’s still the case. Except in the new version, by the end there are three hands reaching for him.

This might be a bit random, but I really liked the fact that there were three hands, not four. The odd number threw things off and added to the creepiness of it. There was something even more unnatural about the dream. And actually what I noticed throughout the show is that in the moments that are meant to be unnatural and wrong, tiny bits of choreography have been tweaked to make that vibe feel so tangible. 

The other great thing about this new version of the dream is that Harry finally does look like he’s wet himself. It’s a detail that should have been added years ago, but I’m glad it’s here now. Also, Harry’s clothes are now genuinely too big for him. They look like adult’s clothes, just the way they should. Those little things make all the difference.

The adults visit McGonagall’s Office (Act Two, Scene Three)

There were so many reasons to love Blythe as McGonagall, but one of my favourites came in this scene. As they were leaving the office to go and find the boys, she saw Ron with the napkin tucked into his top, and reached across to take it off him with a tut. It was so brusque and no nonsense, plus it hinted at her familiarity with him and the others. Although she holds power over them (even Hermione) by virtue of being one of the most wise and respected figures in the Wizarding World, this group are also colleagues in a sense — fellow soldiers who have fought through a war together — and the respect goes both ways. Respect and fondness. Almost a familial bond. It was such a sweet little touch. 

Expelliarmus Scene (Act Two, Scene Four)

This is one of the big trick scenes that can go wrong, but I’m pleased to report that it didn’t in either show. There was an air of confidence from both Madeleine and Dom, and the trick worked really smoothly. Being able to pull that one off with such panache must take guts, especially first time out, and they did a great job. In fact they were both very good with the magic throughout.

Another excellent Delphi moment came at the end of this scene (only in the first show — sadly it wasn’t repeated on Sunday). After she kissed Albus on the cheek, Scorpius did his normal flailing routine in front of her, and she was having none of it. She rolled her eyes and, from several metres away, did a fake little ‘mwah mwah’ in the air, roughly directed to either side of his face. It was sarcastic, impatient, and designed to let him know that he needed to get out of her way fast, which he did. It was a great way of handling his ridiculousness.

Bane and the search for the boys (Act Two, Scene Five)

One of the little details I noticed during the opening of this scene, when everyone was searching the forest, was that Harry wasn’t quite alone when he started calling for Albus and Scorpius. On Wednesday I assumed this was just because the ensemble were a little bit slow getting off the stage, but it was the same on Sunday too, and I was really pleased. I liked it as a sign of Harry’s desperation. Even amongst all these other people helping him, he starts shouting for his son. No waiting for a private moment. No embarrassment. Just his guilt and his need to get his son back safely.

First Task (Act Two, Scene Seven)

If anyone was afraid that the First Task might be a little quiet without the Mackley, Josh, and James Phoon show, you needn’t be. There was plenty of chaos going on, enough to make it difficult to watch the main action.

This was the scene that made me fall in love with the trio of Slytherin boys – Ronnie, Gordon, and Duncan. They were simply wonderful, and absolutely adorable. They had a little chant that I couldn’t quite catch (I think it might have been Cedric related), and then there was some excitable chanting of Krum’s name when he was announced. Also, Ronnie kept stamping his feet to emphasise his applause, and it looked like the three of them were having a whale of a time.

On Sunday, when Gordon was in Hufflepuff, Ronnie went on a Josh-style excursion to visit him, which was very sweet. When he got back to Slytherin there was a lot of hat stealing and Krum chanting and just general chaos. 

Hospital Wing (Act Two, Scenes Eight and Nine)

Albus had a little nightmare while Harry was talking to Dumbledore. He didn’t thrash around as much as Theo used to, it was quite contained, but he was definitely bothered by something going on in his head. There’s something nice about an Albus waking up with a shout of his dad’s name. Even after everything, he still subconsciously loves and needs his dad.

Another little detail from this scene was that this Albus actually ate some of the chocolate. It’s always fun to note who does and doesn’t (Joe very much did not).

One of my favourite Dominic moments came in the scene after this one, when Albus tells Scorpius that he can’t speak to him anymore. He was sharp with Scorpius, but it seemed to be driven by his desire to at least try and do what was necessary to make peace with his dad. However, he was certainly not happy about it. After he’d told Scorpius they’d be better off without each other, he turned to his dad to say ‘okay?’ It was spiteful, spat out, as if saying ‘are you happy now?’ As much as he wants his dad’s affection, he hates the things he has to do to try and get it.

Staircase Ballet (Act Two, Scene Twelve)

This was the first scene where I really noticed the difference in height between Jonathan and Dominic. I obviously knew that Jonathan is the tallest Scorpius we’ve ever had and Dominic the shortest Albus, but there’s something about seeing it in person that makes it all so much more real.

The two boys came together at the top of the stairs (the point when they’re standing side by side, and Albus is trying to avoid Scorpius’s eyes) and there they were. Tall and tiny.

The other thing I really loved about this staircase ballet came from something I’ve noticed before. While Scorpius moves through Hogwarts with ease, from staircase to staircase without a thought, Albus hits dead ends and has to wind his way through the school. It’s like the school accepts Scorpius, but is rejecting Albus. And in both these shows, when Albus walked out from the wings to climb the staircase and meet Scorpius in the middle, he was faced with the wrong end of the staircase. Instead of having steps leading up, there was an unattainable ledge high above him. It was just another sign of the school shutting him out. Another barrier. Sometimes he must feel that he can’t possibly get anywhere – even the building is against him, let alone the classes, his magic, and his fellow students.

Library Scene (Act Two, Scene Sixteen)

I don’t remember much from this scene on Wednesday, but Sunday was vivid, so let’s talk about that. In fact, let’s just talk about Dominic. 

In every scene, but in this one particularly, his body language alone carried right to the back of the theatre. While Scorpius was yelling at Albus, most of the time he was on the verge of stepping forward. He wanted to interrupt, to defend himself, to just say something, maybe even apologise. He was constantly on tiptoes, half stepping forward, half rooted to the spot, shoulders hunched, Time-Turner cradled in his hand. 

Then Scorpius started talking about his mum, and that was when Albus finally stopped trying to interject. He stepped back, bowing his head. He seemed to shrink, and all the fight went out of him until there was just despair. 

When I first saw Dom’s Albus I thought he might be selfish, but on Sunday I realised just how self-aware he is. Especially in the library scene he was so conscious of everything he’d done and said, and what Scorpius was directing at him. It was heartbreaking to see him crumble like that. And when he got onto his apology there was such softness to it, but also power, this drive to let Scorpius know the truth. It was such a beautiful apology, and I’m so pleased that by Sunday Dom had already found Albus’s softer side, because (probably down to nerves) that was the one thing I was lacking on Wednesday and Thursday. 

The other big thing to talk about in this scene has to be the hug. I don’t even know if it can be described as a hug, because there wasn’t much of the boys holding onto each other. While Dom did attempt to do some hugging, Jonathan just draped himself over Dom’s shoulders. He was hanging off him, arms dangling down his back. Only very briefly did Scorpius actually pat Albus’s back, before they parted. It was one of the most awkward disasters of a hug I’ve ever seen. I loved it.

Act Two ending

A couple of little things to finish off Part One:

McGonagall absolutely embraced ‘I solemnly swear that I am up to no good’. She did the most epic wand swish, and was really going for it. Rebellious McGonagall might be my absolute favourite thing to come from the show.

When the boys are under the lake, they now have wild static hair. I noticed it first because I spotted how wild Dom’s hair was. Then I noticed that Scorpius’s wig was sticking up. It took me a second to twig that it was because they were meant to be underwater. At first I thought it was a nice touch, but then I realised that, because the hair doesn’t move like they’re underwater, it kind of just looks like they’ve been attacked with balloons backstage. Also, I feel really sorry for Dom who has to brush that mess out before he can go and have lunch. A little puff of wind or something to make the hair move might make the whole thing more effective. It’s difficult to tell. But for now I guess I’ll just be entertained by how wild they look.

Umbridge did a very creepy skip as she went off after telling Scorpius about Voldemort Day. It was chillingly perfect; just the right amount of gross girlishness.

The Dementor on stage left is wild. Both on Wednesday and Sunday it kept pogoing up and down like mad. I kind of love it. It’s very excitable. 

*

So that’s Part One. Click here for Part Two and a little bit of summing up >

[haloud]

take a chance and don’t ever look back: chapter 2

ao3

Senior year is everything and nothing like it was supposed to be. Maybe if Michael had more chance to watch television as a kid, he would have had a clearer expectation of what was to come; or maybe he just would have had a false hope to rail against.

Whatever the case, in real life he flew blind.

But it’s almost over now. He photocopies his scholarship letter from UNM and sticks it to the roof of his truck so he can look at it when it rains and the stars aren’t out. Final exams are a few weeks out, but for the first time in his life they don’t feel like the end of his world knocking down the door. He did it. He’s in. Everything else is just the credits rolling.

Only one more hurdle to jump.

Michael and Alex still don’t really know each other. Their circles brush a little more these days than they used to—Michael goes where his siblings go, Isobel goes where Max goes, so all three of them go to the Crashdown every day ending in Y. It’s not such a big deal, though, not yet. Prom has always been Michael’s endgame. A big gesture. Something deserving of Alex Manes and his smile and the nose piercing he got over the summer. Max keeps talking about how he and Liz are running out of time, but Michael doesn’t see why things have to end the second he hits the highway. People say long distance relationships never work out, but people also seem to think they’re alone in the universe. Clearly, people need to start using their imaginations.

Now, Michael never skips class, and he’s never really had to put up with bullies despite the rumors he’s homeless because everyone’s too scared of Isobel. But it’s a matter of course that he’d have a handful of hiding places across campus. Last time he grew he ended up too tall to fit in his old spot under the east stairs, but the new spot is even better: a little-used janitor’s closet sandwiched between two auditorium access doors. Spring is his new favorite season, because sometimes when he posts up in there during lunch or after class, he can hear the orchestra practicing for their upcoming concert.

It’s there where he gets the idea to kick off his master plan with a little bit of petty theft. Not the best idea, but Alex hasn’t gotten any easier to talk to, not when Michael’s heart still starts to tap dance whenever they’re in the same room. At least this gets his attention.

Smoothing his hands over Alex’s guitar feels all at once both sacred and utterly profane. He feels it under his palms for hours after giving it back.

And then…Michael always knew Alex was kind, but he doesn’t even have words for what it is that Alex offers him in a steady voice. Nothing to say but thank you, each word like the sound of a gonging bell between them. He doesn’t even get to ask what he was going to ask, too overwhelmed and grateful and awed and small inside.

On prom night, it seems like the whole school’s gone stag this year. There’s Liz and Valenti, of course, but everyone else Michael knows is only coming to party. Even Isobel doesn’t even play at wanting a trophy on her arm this year. When Michael asks her who she’s taking, she goes wan and tense the way she spends too much time going these days and snaps that of course she’s taking him, why, does he not want her to? Some college girl from Albuquerque already making the drive for him?

It stings a little—or, okay, a lot, but Michael gets it better than anyone else possibly could. Sometimes it feels like he knows people best by the way their backs look shrinking in the distance. He doesn’t want that for Is; she deserves to know that she’s always gonna be his best girl. So he spends half the night showing her a good time, making her laugh on the dance floor, keeping her company even when Max drifts away to follow Liz at a distance. It’s a bit of a dent on his plans, but nothing’s more important to him than Is knowing she’s gonna be loved.

The party’s in full swing when she turns to him, eyes sparkling, cheeks pinker than her dress, and says, “Isn’t there anyone else you’d rather dance with? Not that I’m not flattered, of course!”

Michael turns pink too. He feels like he’s been hearing Alex’s name whispered all night, but he can’t be sure because that’s just kind of normal for him. Isobel smiles—not her teasing grin, but a resigned twist of her lips.

“Go,” she says, punching his shoulder lightly.

“Are you sure? I don’t have to—”

“Go, Michael. You’ve done enough. I mean it.” Isobel leans in and kisses him on the cheek. As if to prove her point, she then turns sharply on her heel and stalks like a lioness to some random guy on the dance floor. Michael laughs, shaking his head. Oh, Isobel.

Oh, Alex.

It’s now or never. Michael has to find him in the crush of bodies somehow, has to seize the moment before it’s gone for good. He’s sweating a little too much, though, he’s a little too disheveled, a little too emotional. He just needs to catch his breath, maybe splash some water on his face. Slipping out the side door—really, it shouldn’t be this easy, aren’t these things chaperoned?—Michael sucks in a breath that chills his lungs, the building’s AC cranked up high to compensate for all the grinding, grasping bodies packed into one room. He heads straight for the bathroom, his secondhand dress shoes bouncing eerily off the walls of the deserted school. He rounds the corner, only to slam straight into the sharp shoulder of someone waiting on the other side. It clips him right in the center of his chest and he sprawls back, arms windmilling, until his back hits the lockers with a bang.

“Guerin?” The person almost-shouts. Michael jerks his arms up to cover his face before the voice registers to his brain.

“Oh god, oh god, Guerin, I’m so sorry, I thought you were someone else—” Alex babbles, and Michael jerks his arms down as quickly as they came up. Alex grabs his shoulders and pulls him forward, presses at a few places on his back to feel for bruising. Michael feels himself ragdoll with a combination of adrenaline leaving his body and the sheer sweet relief of Alex touching him with care, but he manages to coordinate his mouth muscles enough to speak.

“It’s okay, Manes, it’s okay. I’m fine.” He straightens up, holding his arms out to demonstrate. Alex relents slightly; the last thing he does is tug the lapels of Michael’s jacket so it settles neat back over his shoulders.

(He really hopes Alex doesn’t look down.)

The silence rattles around the cavernous hallway. Nothing but linoleum and concrete and emptiness in every direction, but Michael and Alex stand occupying the same foot of space, breathing in each other’s air.

Clearing his throat, Michael says, “Uh, I was just—got a little hot in there. What are you doing out here?”

Alex’s eyes dart off to the side, and he chews on his lower lip. Michael is about to say he doesn’t have to answer if he doesn’t want to when the door Michael came through bursts open and spills out four or five loud voices. The color drains from Alex’s face, and Michael doesn’t think, just says:

“I know a place. Come on.”

The two of them take off, cutting through all the shortcuts Michael knows until they reach the narrow auditorium accessway. Even this late at night, the door to the janitor’s closet remains blessedly unlocked.

One thing he didn’t plan for though: it’s a little cramped for two people. Michael’s “don’t look down” problem is going to become a different problem entirely if Alex gets too fidgety. Luckily, it’s at least too dark for Alex to see how he’s lighting up pink.

Potential for embarrassment aside, Michael doesn’t like the angry hunch of Alex’s shoulders, the ducked head, the clenched jaw. He wants to reach out and, and hug him, but he doesn’t know if he’s allowed. Doesn’t know if comforting him like that would be okay.  So he stumbles out, “Hey, a-are you okay? I know it’s probably a stupid question since it’s prom and we’re standing in a janitor’s closet, but—"

“I’m just pissed. It’s Valenti. He keeps popping up, and he hasn’t said anything yet, but I know he’s going to. And everywhere I look there’s a football player staring back. I shouldn’t let Valenti get to me. I kept telling myself this year would be different after last year was so boring and crappy but I’ve spent all night avoiding his stupid cronies instead of having any fun. And then I almost decapitated a perfectly innocent guitar-stealing weirdo.” At that last sentence, his eyes flick to Michael’s and he makes an attempt at a smile, at lessening the tension.

Michael’s shoulders drop in relief, and heart skipping a beat at Alex’s mention of last year, he licks his lips. Last year wasn’t boring for Michael. He’s kind of been measuring time in terms of before last year and after he started waking up with Alex’s name on his lips.

“Night’s not over yet. Pretty much everyone’s still out there. But hey, as Roswell’s resident guitar-stealing weirdo, I totally get it if that’s more your idea of a good time.”

Alex laughs an actual laugh, and Michael has to glance down to make sure he’s just being a sappy dork and hasn’t actually floated off the floor. Then Alex gets serious again and shakes his head.

“Going out and dancing by myself would just encourage them. ‘Get a load of Manes, he’s a loser and a—”

“Who says you’d be alone?” Michael’s voice comes out embarrassingly high-pitched, and he jams a knuckle against his lips. Alex glances at him, one eyebrow cocked, sharp dark eyes flicking left to right like Michael is a puzzle he’s been trying to solve for days.

Maybe even longer.

Outside their little sanctuary and a hallway over, a locker door crashes and the voices from before whoop loudly. The two boys flinch together, and without thinking Michael grabs Alex’s elbow and tugs him slightly behind him, putting himself between Alex and the door. They stay like that for a long moment, as the bangs and shouts move away and go silent. Michael’s head is tilted so he can still look Alex in the eye. Alex’s pupils are dilated in the dim light, but the effect is the same as if—Michael feels a little devoured, just then, a little eaten up. He’s never felt like this before. He wants to bury himself in Alex’s chest and trust Alex to hold him tight. Those long, dark eyelashes flutter every time Alex blinks, and Michael wants to feel them against his cheeks.

Alone again, the outside world feels so far away. Michael turns fully and rocks up onto his toes to bring their mouths closer together, just because he can. “Whaddya say, Manes?” he asks, jerking his thumb in the direction of the faint, faint music.

Alex draws himself up so tall and close it makes Michael’s heart beat faster. His heart falls again, though, when Alex shakes his head.

Then Alex says, “Nah. Not here. If you really want to, you can take me out some other time, where we don’t have to put up with those assholes. Deal?”

He skims his fingertips over the back of Michael’s hand. It restarts Michael’s heart in double-time, makes goosebumps erupt all down that arm. His curls bounce up and down as he nods his head. It’s scary—god, how is he going to come up with something for them to do?—but also Michael can’t stop smiling.

“Maybe I kind of wanted to dance with you, though,” he says.

Alex chuffs a little laugh. “Then maybe I’ll just have to go to dances more often.”

“We-eelllll…” Michael can’t help the spread of his grin, even though all the smiling makes his cheeks hurt. “When you do, maybe you’ll save a spot on your schedule for me?” He knocks his scuffed-up shoe against Alex’s. He’s so warm in this little space they’ve made together. He always picks his hiding places because they feel safe, but he had no idea he could feel like this.

“Yeah.” Alex swallows twice, Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “I will. I’ll save a spot for you right at the end.”

“The end? That gonna give us enough time?”

“Last song’s as long as you want it to be. Sometimes it even keeps going once you get home.”

Just like that, Michael’s uncomfortable problem is back. His heels hit the floor again flat, and he splutters all undignified as the closet lights up white with Alex’s feral grin.

“I think they’re gone. Shall we?” Alex says while Michael tries to collect himself.

“U-uh, yeah. After you.”

They climb out of the closet into the now-deserted hallway. Alex reaches out and steadies Michael when he stumbles over the lip of the doorframe, but the weight and sensation of his hands just makes Michael feel like Jell-O. At the intersection of the hallway—one side leading back to the dance, one side leading outdoors—Alex stops, grabbing Michael’s wrist to jerk him to a halt too.

“Alex?”

He doesn’t get a response, just intense, calculating eyes boring into him, staring him down. It’s been Michael’s greatest lifelong fear, being dissected, but he lets it happen now. Alex’s eyes pin him down spread-eagle on a steel table, but standing so close to him, leashed by that hand around his wrist, he only feels drifting and docile like a beehive smoked out. He wants to ask what’s wrong but can’t make his brain connect to his mouth to make words.

Slowly, oh-so slowly, Alex reaches out and, with just two fingers, smooths that loose curl back behind Michael’s ear. Michael’s mouth pops open on a breathy little sound as Alex follows that path again, stoking his forehead, combing through his hair. Then Alex nods, just once, like he’s come to some decision. Michael doesn’t know what it might be, but it’s okay, he’s cool with Alex calling the shots from now on as long as they can stay close like this.

“I’m going to the bathroom to freshen up a bit,” Alex says. “Meet me outside by the trellis? We can get food or something before everywhere closes.”

“Y-yeah, sounds good. I’m here with Isobel, but I’ll—I’ll let her or Max know.”

Alex gives him a little smile before he walks away. Michael sways in his direction just a little bit before he collects himself and goes the other way.

Standing under the latticework and the fairy lights, Michael closes his eyes and lets the night feel magical. He lets the whole, vast night wrap around him like the scent of Alex’s cologne pressed up against him in a tiny janitor’s closet. His mind whirls and crashes but for once the noise just sounds like singing.

What if Alex kisses him? Michael’s lower lip tingles, and he bites at it to make it stop. He’s not some blushing virgin; just because Alex is tall and his dark eyeliner makes his eyes look even darker, doesn’t mean Michael should be acting like a princess.

Alex has never had a boyfriend, at least not that Michael knows about. Maybe Alex is a virgin. Maybe Michael could be his first—

The thought makes Michael’s heart skip a beat, and he almost slaps himself before remembering that he is, technically, in public. You’re getting way ahead of yourself, he thinks. Who says Alex wants to be anything more than friends? Maybe Alex doesn’t even want him just because he’s offering. Besides, Michael’s never been with a guy either, so maybe he’d be crap at it…

Great, now he’s just depressed.

“Dude, are you okay? You just went on one hell of a face journey.”

Michael startles bad for the second time tonight, but this time when he whirls around it’s just Max.

“Dude, you know not to sneak up on me.” He smacks Max lightly on the shoulder, and Max rolls with it, nodding.

“You’re right, I know. Seriously, though, you okay? Where have you been all night?”

“Spent most of it with Is, why?”

“Well, she was alone a little while ago when she drove off.”

“She left?”

“Yeah. Said she wasn’t feeling it or something.”

“She was fine when I left her. Hell, she was the one who told me to go.”

They face each other under the fairy lights. Max won’t stop staring. Michael’s skin feels too small for his body.

Finally, Max says, “I’m sure she’s fine. There are a hundred Isobel reasons why she’d want to leave early.”

“Yeah. Yeah, you’re probably right,” Michael replies, weak with relief. “How’re you going to get home? I’ve,” he runs his hand through the curls at the back of his neck, “made plans, but, uh, what about you?”

“I’ll figure something out.” Max’s voice trails off, his attention already wandering. “I don’t want to leave until Liz does, in case…”

Michael lets out a little bubble of laughter. Shine on you crazy diamond.

“Why don’t you go find her? I’m sure Valenti will stop pissing on her leg long enough for you to get in one dance. Also I’m meeting someone here, so like, would kind of love to not have my dork-ass brother hanging around.”

Max scoffs and shoves at Michael’s head. “Shut up. I’m the cool brother and you know that.”

“Uh huh, says who? Tolstoy? Dostoyevsky?”

“Sholokhov, plebian.”

“Ugh, you disgust me.”

Max laughs again. Then he glances up at the building, brow furrowed. Michael follows his line of sight, heart leaping when he sees Alex hurrying down the stairs, then plummeting into his stomach as Valenti and the rest of the starting line spill out in pursuit.

-----------------------------------------------------------------

The night ends sudden after that. The football players disperse, and Max does too, either home or wherever Liz Ortecho went, Michael doesn’t really care. There’s a cold little grain of disappointment in his chest, but the skin of his shoulder still burns where Alex squeezed him as he left.

Michael trails his path out to the parking lot, in no particular hurry, now, for the night to end. Alex is long gone. Michael hopes Liz managed to give him some comfort before he drove away, left angry to a house that hates him, and—

He decides then and there that he’s going to the toolshed that night. He hadn’t been sure if he would before, not sure how taking Alex’s charity would affect things between them. But all he care about now is being there, being close enough that maybe it brings Alex a little peace, as if he can feel him, even if he doesn’t know he’s there.

Something rustles under his foot as he steps off the sidewalk, and he moves his foot aside to reveal a champagne-colored rose, delicate and tightly-furled. The same one that had been threaded through Alex’s buttonhole when they stood so close their chests nearly brushed.

Michael cups it in his hands like it might fly away. That night, he fills one of his cupholders full of water and floats it there for want of a vase.

And there it stays.

[michael-langdon-appreciation]

Omg please 22 and 23!

#22. You’ve been sending me those pictures of your pretty pussy while we’re in school, naughty girl.

#23. Shut up, or I will destroy you tonight. (Amended slightly to fit my scenario) 

Warning: Cunnilingus! virgin!Reader! softdom!Jim 

AGAIN PLS NEVER SEND PICTURES TO ANY GUY! BREAK-UPS HAPPEN AND PICTURES REMAIN FOREVER!

There’s no real way to define your relationship with Jim. He’s a talentless, show-off who likes to throw his weight around just for kicks. He’s a bully, he hangs out with the Bay Boys and you’ve seen him deck a guy twice his age for wanting to surf on his territory. Jim Mason takes drugs all night till he collapses against your car and you have stuff him inside and drop him off at home.

You feel obligated to, you don’t know if he’d make it without your help.

Not that he ever thank you for it, Jim just swaggers to his front door without a word. Once he sent a salute back at you, nearly falling into the flowerbed, and one time he kissed you. It was gross, the taste of weed and god knows what else smothering you senses. You had to push him away, had to see how the light died in his eyes at your rejection, how he stomped up the driveway and smashed his fist into the nearest window. 

Jim Mason wasn’t someone to get involved with, so why are you lying under the bleachers at school with your skirt hiked up to your breasts, Jim Mason’s tongue slathering in and out of your cunt? 

His eyes peer up from his treat, Jim offers you a wicked grin. ‘Enjoying yourself?’

‘I wouldn’t have dragged you under here if I didn’t want it.’ You admit, knowing how wanton you sound. 

Jim slurps away at you, ‘I thought after you pushed me away that night you didn’t like me.’

‘I didn’t appreciate you being stoned.’ You tell him, ‘Or your violence.’

His tongue runs up from end of your pussy all the way up your belly button. His eyes sparkle, a shaft of light shining down on your both from your position under the bleachers, shadows dance across occasionally when someone takes a seat, the thumps of footsteps making your little rendezvous all the more scandalous. ‘What made you change your mind?’ 

You don’t answer, the first picture you sent to him was because of Heather’s dare. It wasn’t even your pussy you sent him, just a random one off the internet. But Jim didn’t know that and he’d jumped you in the hallway at lunchtime, his fingers pawing under your skirt, desperate to know what your goal was. You’d skipped away from him that time, leaving Jim frustrated and alone. You had to send him another picture, his reaction had stirred all kinds of illicit emotions in you. You’d thought about his lips on yours the entire way though Biology and made it your top priority to find him after class. 

‘I wanted to see if your really liked me, or whether you only kissed me because you were high.’

Jim kisses your stomach, ‘I cut my hand open on a window.’ He points out, ‘And you were still unsure?’

‘You’ve got a damn temper.’ You remind him, ‘Not the first time I’ve seen you act out.’

He starts running kisses back down to my vagina. I press him closer to me, wanting to feel his velvet tongue back where I’m aching for him. Jim swirls his tongue round my clit and I clamp a hand over my mouth as a moan escapes me, he feels so good. 

‘I think you like it when I’m bad.’ Jim observes, ‘I think you can’t resist wanting to look after me.’ He’s got a point and I keep very quiet. Jim tries to coax a response out of me by rubbing a finger against my most sensitive area, ‘You want o save me do you?’ He asks, ‘Take me in your arms and soothe my tortured soul.’

‘That’s some girl’s dream,’ You answer.

‘Yours?’

‘I don’t know.’ You admit, ‘You’re a bully, Jim Mason.’

I can see he likes the idea of being a bad boy, ‘A bully you wanna fuck.’ He pushes a finger inside. He’s absolutely merciless and you bite down on your hand as you scream from the penetration, ‘You’ve been sending me those pictures of your pretty pussy while we’re in school, naughty girl.’ 

You’re too busy focusing on the tight sheath of Jim’s finger inside you, ‘Mmm that’s so good, Jim.’ It is pleasurable and also wickedly painful. You’ve never had anything inserted into you before, only your own fingers. Jim’s feel entirely different and you hold your tongue, desperate to keep it together. You don’t want him to know you’ve never fooled around before, that you’re still a virgin.

Jim smirks, ‘You’re so wet.’ He says, ‘So wet and so tight around my finger.’

I feel the tip of his second finger prodding at my entrance and I clench up instinctively. Jim frowns at me and I do my best to relax, ‘Gonna slide another inside you.’ He warns, ‘Gonna take two of my fingers.’

‘Do it.’ Your bravado is back in place.

This time the stretch does hurt, Jim working in two fingers nice and slow. Your head falls back as you try and get accustomed to the sensation of Jim’s warm fingers penetrating you, loosening up your hole. 

He seems to be debating something, his other hand tracing circles over your hipbones, ‘Is this…your first time?’ 

You go silent and Jim smiles, ‘It is, isn’t it?’

‘No.’

‘No?’ Jim’s voice lifts up an octave,a hand shirking down his trousers. His cock is rock hard as Jim pumps himself once, twice and then lines you up with him, ‘Then you won’t complain when I destroy you?’ 

You feel the tip of Jim’s cock press against you and a bolt of pain has jerking away from him, ‘Okay. I am.’ You admit, ‘I haven’t done this before.’

Jim moves over me at once, ‘Why don’t you want me to know?’

‘It’s embarrassing,’ You snap back. ‘I want to, but I know it’s gonna hurt.’

His eyes soften, all traces of the dominant gone. Jim’s hand reaches out to you face and his fingers gently stroke your cheek, ‘I don’t wanna hurt you.’ He murmurs, eyes glancing up at the people sat above us, so unaware of what is unfolding below them. 

Jim gets off me and does up his trouser, the hard line of his erection is visible still and I feel so ashamed for having made him stop, ‘You don’t want to?’

‘Not like this.’ He says, casting an eye over you. 

You’re a sight to see, whimpering on your back in the grass with your legs spread wide open, your underwear bunched at the side. Jim reaches his hand out for you and helps you sit up. Questions race through your mind, ‘Is it because I’m a virgin?’

’No.’ He says, ‘This isn’t the right time or place for this. You want to lose that somewhere special,’ His eyes divert from mine, ‘With someone special.’ 

This is the Jim you didn’t know existed, the one who compulsively kissed you and went through a world of pain at your rejection. You lips meet his gentle and soft, ‘I’d be happy to lose it to you.’ You tell him, watching the words process through Jim’s brain. 

He kisses you again and fixes your skirt back into place, ‘Come round mine tonight.’ He says, ‘We can pick things up on my bed and I promise to make it worth the wait.’  

 @confettucini, @petersfern-fics @Sodanova, @Sloppy-Wrist @langdonsoceaneyes @Langdonalien @alexcornerblog