#so that he could support her for the rest of her life

[burning-an-indifferent-hell]

"Sociopath," types the rabid, hysterical quasi-fascist whose driving purpose in life is to punch down at vulnerable targets to feel better about her own helplessness and inadequacy.

"When you claim women aren't oppressed for their sex. When you claim a woman is just a feeling inside someone's head." I do? Where? I'm not a liberal who believes in transcendental-idealism or sex essentialism, I'm a Marxist with a materialist view of sex-based oppression. You have no idea who I am or what I believe, you just pigeonhole anyone who disagrees with you into this vague straw man "gender ideology" because you're incapable of intellectually honest conversation. All of this bombastic deflection and projection is coming from the same place of insecurity and insularity that fuels the rest of your asinine prejudice and misguided rage. It might sound compelling or intimidating to people who lack an ideological foundation in the first place, but not to the rest of us.

"Unlike you, we are not a one dimensional caricatures—" More projection. Everyone is aware of the extreme case of tunnel vision that afflicts your movement. Go on any radfem's blog and it's just post after post obsessing over trans women and mythical "gender ideology". Go on X and look at JKR's page and it's nothing but the same. Even her fascistic billionaire comrade Musk was so disturbed by it that he publicly asked her to focus on something other than trans women once in a while. You bigots aren't feminists, radicals, or revolutionaries; you don't care about anything other than obsessively slandering and antagonizing trans people. You're reactionaries who align yourselves with the explicit enemy and throw vulnerable women under the bus in a heartbeat if it means achieving the singular goal of destroying trans peoples' livelihoods.

"Keep your mouth shut from now on, you smug piece of shit." Shut me up, faceless creep. There's nothing you could say that possibly could. Your ideology, empty threats, and insults are as useless on this blogging website as they are against the real-life patriarchy.

"You clearly don't know what the hell you're talking about, so stop embarrassing yourself." How embarrassing was it when the fascistic and fundamentalist right you allied yourselves with in the name of anti-"gender ideology" raped your movement both ideologically and literally, used you for political propulsion, discarded you, and taunted you with the fact that the rights to your bodies will soon belong to them? How embarrassing is it that you learned nothing from that and continue the same behavior that has accomplished nothing over the past two decades aside from effectively aiding and abetting patriarchal oppressors in their ulterior goal of splintering the feminist movement and destroying women's rights?

Anyways, my original point still stands and has only been reinforced by your response: you really hate trans people so much more than you care about women that you see femicide in action and jump to using those victims as a red herring to antagonize irrelevant and already disenfranchised people. Disturbing and pathetic. And get that picture of Dworkin off your profile, we both know you've never actually read her works and she wouldn't support this impotent, self-sabotaging heap of burning shit that the modern radical feminist movement has devolved into if she were still alive today.

Trans activists:

'Woman is an identity and a social construct'

Planet Earth:

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Chapter 36

Series Masterlist

Warnings: Allusions to abuse

A/N: This feels more like a filler chapter, just carrying the story further with no real plot. Maybe that’s just the way I see it. The prison is on the horizon!

That first conscious breath when waking was still such a treasured moment. You could smell nature, taste the crisp cold, hear the sequestered tunes of the wild, and even venture to forget that death walked. For that handful of invaluable heartbeats, life was normal.  

That particular morning was different. You still experienced those precious few seconds of tranquility, your lips nearly curling into a smile when your brain—still hazy from sleep—realized it was dawn. Walkers had not stumbled upon your camp. No one had died. There were no screams. It was pleasantly quiet aside from soft gurgles and coos. 

You felt no panic when your hand touched the cold ground, finding Birdie to be gone. Even without her verbal cues, you could sense she was close by and so was Daryl.

“Doin’ a awful lot’a jabberin’, lil’ Bird.” 

His reposeful tone harbored an inkling of amusement. Your eyes opened slowly as if you feared making a sound that would disrupt the moment. Daryl was sitting with his back against a tree, knees drawn up to pillow a blanketed bundle of Birdie. One tiny hand was wrapped around his index finger while her other limbs were secure beneath the warmth of the fabric. 

“C’mon, gotta keep ya snug here. S’too cold.”

Craning his neck, he pressed the gentlest of kisses to little fingers before pulling his own digit free in order to tuck her hand away. The baby did not care for the idea, grunting and passing gas in protest. Daryl huffed a laughed through his nose. 

“Gonna need ‘nother diaper if ya keep that up.”  

A tiny mouth opened as if to squeak but stretched wider in a yawn. The action had the archer laughing again, an actual quiet chuckle. Extending a finger, he tapped Birdie’s cheek and watched her root around for a source of food. You could watch him interact with her all day long without an ounce of boredom. Not if she had anything to say about it, however. 

“Guess m’gonna hafta wake up your mama, huh?” The blanket bulged and shifted with the movements of little limbs beneath it, squeaks and grunts heightening in their insistence. “Okay, okay. M’a get ‘er.” Daryl cradled the baby across his chest, her weight resting on his right forearm so that he could use his left hand to push himself up. Truthfully, he could have simply outstretched his leg and tapped your shin with his boot, but he never was one for making anything easy on himself, was he? 

You contemplated closing your eyes, feigning sleep in order to give him those few moments he had thought were private. Having waited a fraction of a second too long, you were caught blinking up at him just as he began to crouch. “Hey.” The image of his fury was a vivid snapshot seared into your memory. Were things really okay after everything the previous day? Daryl narrowed his eyes, staring almost coldly at you before bouncing Birdie gingerly. 

That was more than likely a no. 

“Bird’s hungry. Ya wanna—” He motioned broadly toward your torso. “Ya can do the thing an’ I can give ‘er a bottle if ya don’t want ‘er ‘round.”

Ouch. 

“Daryl.” You sighed, sitting up with your sleeping bag pooled around your waist, only then registering the other voices and sounds. Everyone was already moving about. You had been so transfixed on the moment between father and daughter that you hadn’t noticed. “Of course I want her.” You reached upward before withdrawing. “Do you want to feed her?”

“Wanna do everythin’ for ‘er.” He replied without missing a beat. “But she needs ‘er mama too.” He said while adjusting the baby to support her properly as he waited for you to make a decision. 

“I’ll feed her and then pump what I can so you can feed her next time, okay?” He jerked his chin in agreement. Shedding your jacket, you pulled one arm from your sweater and unclipped the bra. The fact that he turned his head when your breast was exposed unearthed so many emotions, bile creeping into your throat. 

“A’ight then.” Daryl offered the squirming bundle, softly shushing her in such a way that made your heart melt, the puddle of it aching in waves. With a forward tilt on his knee, he helped support Birdie’s head while you adjusted her at your breast, his fingertips brushing against the outside curve of your skin. The gentleness in his expression toward Birdie turned pained, his gaze averting quickly as well as his hand. “M’a go see if there’s anythin’ I can get for some meat.” 

Bracing the baby firmly with one arm, you leaned to clasp Daryl’s wrist, flinching when his attention snapped toward you. For so long, you had been prominent in your belief that he would never hurt you. Now? After his words from the day before? Your faith had waned.

“You could stay.” The way your voice vibrated, the words stuttering off your tongue, was awkward. Even through the rough patches, you had fought boldly to hold on to the woman you had been, the one that had filled your father with such pride. If he could only see you now. You had cried, begged, and made decisions that would have had him turning his back on you in shame. 

Daryl didn’t appear to know how to respond, to neither your words nor your touch. His eyes flickered from your fingers to your eyes and back again, blue pools so deeply betraying his uncertainty and confusion to a level so bare that you feared he would lash out. When he didn’t, when he remained stock still and silent, it occurred to you that maybe he didn’t know how he was supposed to react. 

That was it, wasn’t it? He knew you weren’t trying to hurt Birdie. He understood you were only trying to maintain a measure of safety, that what you were doing was something you didn’t want to do but felt you had to do it. 

On the opposite side of the same coin, the thought of your capability to consider such a method had awoken a fear in him, memories of a time when he had been defenseless. In the face of that onslaught, he did the only thing he could do to protect his daughter. He had run. 

You weren’t dealing with Daryl’s anger. 

You were dealing with his pain. 

That made the situation no less volatile. A vulnerable, confused Daryl was not the easiest version of him to manage. Honoring your theory, you allowed your fingers to loosen. It was important for him to have some sort of control and you would grant him that. 

“I’d like it if you’d stay here with us.” 

His eyes narrowed. Daryl was far from clueless. He could sense the shift in the atmosphere, but an opening had been left for him, a way to retreat. A sliver of tension melted from his muscles, you could feel the taut tendons relax beneath your touch. 

“A’ight.” He rasped, unceremoniously tipping back onto his ass. You weren’t sure if the space he left between the two of you was intentional. It didn’t matter. He had chosen to stay, the implications of that decision still unclear.

Your smile was a tight line, gaze lingering on him for a moment before you looked down at Birdie, her eyes heavy-lidded as she suckled, little hand wrapped around Daryl’s finger. When had he reached over? Her skin was so pale in comparison, soft and delicate where Daryl’s was tan and calloused. Those hands were so gentle with your daughter. With you. 

You longed to return to that time, when it was all new and a path was being carved toward a future together. Would you ever be that way again? You had to try. For Birdie and for the sake of your own heart. 

“I’ll never make a decision about her again without talking to you.” You blurted without looking away from the tender moment. There was an unnerving silence that awoke a nauseating fear inside you. “Please talk to me.” You continued to avoid meeting his eyes. “I’m not willing to lose this—us.”

“Ain’t losin’ nothin’.” 

Your head snapped up to find him watching you, expression hard and wary. “I’m—you’re not—”

“Nah.” Daryl shook his head and sniffed, rubbing his cheek against his shoulder as if alleviating an itch that may or may not have been actually there. “Just—I dunno.”

You wanted to tell him you got it, that you understood, but you didn’t. You couldn’t possibly. His trauma was wound so deep within the tendrils of his soul that it was possible some had become permanent, never able to heal. He would need to work through this, but he wouldn’t do it alone. You could still support him. Not understanding didn’t mean not caring. 

“I love her, Daryl. I was—I am—struggling, but I love her and I’d never hurt her.” You blew out a breath through pursed lips, holding his gaze despite the myriad of feelings that stirred behind your ribs. “I love you.”

He blinked fast, his eyes wet. He sniffed again, his jaw ticking as he looked away, side to side, up then down, anywhere but at you. “Y/N, I—”

“Hey, Daryl?” You turned to glare over your shoulder at Glenn. He was looking straight up, likely to avoid seeing your breast even as Birdie had the nipple sealed between her lips. One day, the lovable idiot would learn to read the room. “You think you can could go see about some game? I know it’s cold, I know, but we could use—”

“No, he can’t.” You snapped with a little more vexation than you had expected or meant, but from the way the man flinched and started backing away, your point had been made. 

“What’d ya do that for?” You found Daryl’s angry eyes awaiting you when you turned around, though he was working hard to heat the pointed glare. “Can speak for myself.”

The sigh that left you was nothing less than exasperated. “I know you can but we,” you freed a hand from beneath your daughter to gesture back and forth between her and yourself, “need you here.”

He was at war with himself, that much was obvious, blue orbs flitting back and forth. He had responsibilities tearing him in two, his duty toward the group in the throes of a never ending battle against his commitment to you and Birdie. You thought he would give in to the demands of Rick and the others, and you couldn’t fault him. Your heart sank when he stood and moved out of your view. 

“Daddy’ll be back, baby girl. He’s just going to—” The weight of a blanket settled across your shoulders seconds before Daryl lowered himself to sit at your side, his hip and shoulder pressing against yours. He didn’t smile, still tense and circumspect, but leaned closer, nearly resting his head against yours so he could stroke the baby’s cheek. 

“Told ya I can speak for myself.” He huffed. “And m’gonna stay right here.”

[yall-batman-fanfic]

Beyond | Terry McGinnis x Batsis with Batman

Synopsis:  Bruce Wayne has retired as Batman leaving Gotham in the hands of the Police, and young heroes to keep her safe, but with Batman gone criminals are no longer scared, and crime rate has increased. Just as Bruce has lost all hope, Terry McGinnis arrives at the scene.

NOTE: I refuse to believe that the epilogue of Justice League Unlimited exists. I prefer Terry McGinnis being simply Terry McGinnis and NOT Bruce Wayne’s son. That epilogue ruined everything about Batman Beyond. You don’t have to be a Wayne to be Batman! Bruce became Batman because it was his choice and he had a purpose, it has nothing to do with blood. So, for this story, Terry is NOT blood-related to the Waynes in any way.

It has been five years since he wore the cowl. Five years after he had that one night he thought he was dead with the last thing he would see was a low-life scum and not his family. His beautiful wife and his amazing daughter. Five years since he had to resort to using a gun to strike fear into his enemies. No more. Never again. Since then he hung the cowl, closed the cave, and finally accepted his wife’s gift – a watch. A gift given for retirement. Since then he would wear that watch all the time to remind him of why he needed to stop being Batman.

Time was always the enemy. With time comes age, and with age are illnesses and the deterioration of the body.

Many of his comrades have gone – Leslie has died long before, Jim Gordon as well, due to a heart attack while in his office), Alfred has died in the most tragic death doing one last heroic thing for his family: saving Valerie from a gun-fire.

Valerie was there to witness everything and see the life leave Alfred’s eyes as he succumbed to his injuries. They found her on the ground, behind the vehicle they used for cover, holding her grandfather’s body and refusing to let go.

Worse of all, at that same year, she almost lost her father too because he was too damn stubborn to admit that he was no longer in his prime. That he was now an old man who depends on his technology to support his aging body and all the ailments he keeps from his wife (unsuccessfully keeping from his wife, he’s just too damn stubborn to admit it).

“What’s it going to take for you to understand that enough is enough, Bruce?” Vivian said as she sat beside her husband who laid in his hospital bed. Tears falling from her eyes at the scare they got.

Their family gathered in the room — Damian–who was his doctor–listening to him with a disappointed look, then there were Tim, Jason, Dick, and Cassandra. And Valerie. Sweet Valerie, who just witnessed her grandfather die in her arms, was standing by her father’s side with an unreadable look on her face.

“Viv,” Bruce spoke. He reached out to his wife and took her hand. “My love,” he called for her again when she wouldn't look at him, this time she turned to meet his tearful eyes. “You can take out the watch.”

“Bruce, are you sure?” Tim asked.

“I’m sure… it’s time. It’s long overdue,” Bruce turned to his daughter and reached out for her. With his arm open, Valerie joined her father and laid beside him so she could hold him tight. “I should have retired the moment you were born. I am so sorry for missing out on so many things… and for scaring you like that.”

“I’m just glad you’re alive,” Valerie whispered.

“It’s official,” Dick began. “The Batman’s done.”

As soon as he was discharged, he went back to the cave to put away his latest suit, lining it up with the rest. From his very first one, to the latest ones lined with kevlar and a heavy cape for gliding, a transmitter cowl; then to the Robins’ uniforms from Dick and Jason’s original uniforms, to Tim’s, Stephanie and Damian’s. Then there was Nightwing’s line up, along with Red Hood’s, Red Robin, Orphan, Batgirl, Spoiler, the Phoenix… and the red cowl and cloak that gained the name Red Bat by Gotham’s broadcasting network during their short-lived reign over Gotham. 

He closed it all, shutting down the power, locking away the life he’s lived and turning the fortress to a museum that no one can ever see or know.

He spent most of his time with his family and running Wayne Enterprises with his wife who was now the Head of the Wayne Foundation. Vivian still works part-time at the university and does research, but most of her work is now with the Wayne Foundation, wanting to help more people. She joked that teaching was her calling and passion job, and philanthropy was her retirement job. 

The time he spends with his daughter were ones he cherished. In the morning, the three of them would wake to start on their chores. While Vivian would start on breakfast, the two of them would be at the garden, tending to the flowers at Helena’s grave. Then he would drive her to school – he was insistent in doing so – before going to work. When at home they would dine as a family and spend time as a family.

But whenever he would hear or see the news about the rising crime rates in Gotham, Bruce couldn’t help but feel defeated. He has lost in this war. In the war he has waged against crime in Gotham. And when he would be somber, Vivian and Valerie would try to get his mind off of it or talk to him. 

This was the truth of Gotham, he would tell himself and them. No matter how much I fight, Batman cannot change its people. The people themselves refuse, and those who do, know better than to stay here. Gotham is a test through fire. Gotham was and is purgatory. 

~*~

Vivian was on her way home, driving on the bridge when he spoke to her a couple of minutes ago, and there was a group of punks who call themselves the Jokerz terrorizing a kid who crashed at his gate. Checking at his phone, he monitored the GPS icons of his wife and daughter to see where they were. Vivian was almost to the mainland, Valerie was just about to leave Gotham University.

He wasn’t going to let them walk into this, nor was he going to let them walk into his property too… and there was the kid.

Walking down the path that leads to the gate, Bruce made the sound of his cane prominent in each step he took, informing the gargoyle that guarded the manor of his arrival and to stand guard but not engage. Greg the Gargoyle has made himself a permanent guard of the manor ever since he’s reached a certain age, vowing to protect the state and its masters. 

“Let’s carve a smile on this punk!” One of the Jokerz called out to his group.

Another tap.

Gregory opened the gates of the manor, startling the teenagers and the punks.

As they wondered in fear, Bruce made himself known: “Leave him alone. Get off my property. You’re trespassing!”

“Stand back, old man!” The teenager got up and tried to cover him.

A young man with a good heart, he thought. 

“Aw, is that right?” One of the Jokerz taunted him.

“It’s okay, old man, I got this,” said the teenager.

Bruce walked past him to face the group and one of them, the one who wore the Joker mask, grabbed him by his shirt. 

“Who do you think you are, old man? We’re the Jokerz!”

Bruce smirked. “Sure you are.” 

When Joker-face tried to punch him, Bruce easily evaded and whacked him thrice with his cane until he was knocked down to the ground. Then the others engaged, trying to stab him with knives and hit him with bats but they were no match for him. He was Batman after all. An easy fight, and he was glad to see that he still got it –

Pain surged through his body.

His heart.

Clutching his chest, Bruce fell to the ground as he had another heart attack. No, he can’t. He needs to make sure his girls get home safe. That Vivian and Val were safe. 

He wasn’t sure what happened but the next he saw was the teenage boy running to his side, the sight of Valerie appearing out of thin air and running to his side.

“Dad! Dad!” She skidded on the ground.

“Val,” he grasped her hand.

Valerie placed a hand on his heart and tried to help him. “Dad, please don’t. Please, stay with me. Please,” she muttered as she helped heal him.

I’m not going anywhere, Val, he thought. Not unil I know you’re safe.

~*~

“Go out now and you might find yourself in their trap,” the girl with black hair told him. “Stay. Wait for a couple of hours until you are bore out of your mind, then wait for another hour, then and only then do you leave. Better yet, stay and leave in the morning. There’s no bus here, so I can drive you to Gotham Central.” 

He can’t stay the night but he’ll wait. She does have a point. As he waited, Terry started to roam around the manor to figure out who these people are, and then he saw the large portrait in the study. How could he not realize sooner?!

That girl was Valerie Wayne! The only daughter of Bruce Wayne and Vivian Pryor-Wayne.

Then that means the old man was Bruce Wayne!

How the hell did he find himself crashing to the gates of Wayne Manor?

As he pondered about the luck he had to be there – he was sure Wayne was going to make him pay for the dented gate – he heard noise coming from the clock. 

A bat was stuck inside the clock.

~*~

She should have kept an eye on Terry McGinnis. After getting her father to bed, Valerie asked Terry to stay for a bit and wait for the coast to be clear before leaving. Crap, she shouldn’t have had him in their home in the first place. But she can’t just let him go to the Jokerz trap – she even informed her mother about the group of punks driving motorcycles that might cross her path heading to Wayne Manor.

Or maybe she should have locked him in the living room until she returned. But that’s not good manners – as her grandfather would say, or her mother, or Dick and Tim. So, she trusted him that he would stay put. But no.

For some strange luck that was not on their side, Terry fucking McGinnis found the clock and walked inside the Cave and found the biggest secret that Gotham hides.

The identity of Batman.

“Geez, no wonder he could fight,” Terry mused, but before he could explore some more, a strong gust of wind pushed him away from the line up of uniforms and was pinned to the walls of the cave. This was no ordinary wind.

And he was right to suspect because from the shadows Valerie Wayne appeared with eyes glowing bright blue, her hand stretched out with her palm facing his direction, and her black hair flying around with the gusts of wind.

“No one ever taught you not to snoop around?” Valerie mused.

“You’re a — you’re a meta-human?” Terry gasped.

“Close enough,” she smirked. “You know, I can’t let you out of this place with you knowing about all of this.”

“Valerie!” Bruce’s voice boomed in the cave.

The sound of her father’s voice had her release Terry from the winds that pinned him to the wall and fall to the ground with a harsh thud.

“Oops,” she muttered.

She did that on purpose.

Bruce walked up to him with a nasty glare and sneered: “Get out!”

 ~*~

Vivian was not expecting to see her husband and daughter in the Batcave after Bruce closed it for good. After receiving the alert on her phone from Bruce’s heart monitor, she sped up in her drive and used a spell to warp realities to have her car jump from the long winding road to the grounds of Wayne Manor. When she got home, she looked around for Bruce, scared to death if something have happened to him and she wasn’t there. 

And there was.

If there wasn’t he wouldn’t be in the Cave. 

“Bruce!” Vivian ran down the stairs.

“Viv,” Bruce greeted her and before he could ask how she was she tackled him to an embrace.

“What happened? What’s going on?” Vivian turned to her daughter and reached for her hand.

“Someone saw the Cave,” Valerie spoke.

“What?” 

“The Jokerz chased a kid all the way to the Estate. I had a minor episode after I…” Bruce trailed off.

“After you what?” Vivian narrowed her gaze at him.

“Nothing I couldn’t handle.”

Valerie scoffed. “Really? If it was nothing, I wouldn’t have had to jump from GU to here, Dad. What if that kid was some punk too?”

“But he wasn’t.”

It was a losing battle. She knew it, and Valerie knew when to just go with what her father says: “He helped me get Dad inside the manor. I told him to stay for a while and wait until we’re sure the Jokerz were gone and I left him for a bit. And he found the clock and the Cave. It’s my fault.”

“Is it something that we should worry about? I can contact Damian,” said Vivian.

“Damian took an oath, Vivian,” Bruce reminded her.

“Then Tim.”

He said nothing on the matter. As of now, Tim was part of Wayne Enterprises’ Board of Directors and is working as the Vice President on Wayne Technologies. Tim can easily track down the boy, Terry McGinnis, and keep an eye on him but Bruce didn’t want to disturb him for this. Besides, while he remains to be Red Robin in certain occasions, Tim has his own life now, a family with Bernard to take care of.

Seeing her father’s lack of response, Valerie said, “I’ll tell them in the group chat. They should know considering Batman has a support system that is the same size and demographic as the Wayne family anyway.”

Before Bruce could protest, Valerie had already hit send and her phone was getting chat notifications nonstop.

“Come on, let’s head upstairs,” Vivian took her husband’s arm and led him back. When she sensed her daughter’s missing footsteps, she turned back and saw Valerie looking at the Red Bat costume on the case. “Val.”

Valerie turned away from the uniforms and ran to join her parents.

~*~

Warren McGinnis was murdered in his home.

The name McGinnis caught Valerie’s attention when Bunny mentioned it during their meet-up lunch dates between Gotham University and Gotham Academy (since Valerie graduated three years early, she’s been going to Gotham University, taking engineering and criminology classes, wanting to wait for Bunny before they apply for Yale, just like their parents). As soon as she got home, she told her father about the news and just as she expected he said nothing about it. 

“It has something to do with Powers,” Valerie said.

“What makes you say that?” Damian asked whilst continuing his work in the kitchen, making dinner for everyone in the manor. 

“Warren McGinnis was is part of Powers’ team in Powers’ Tech. I remember him in Wayne Tower with Derek Powers when they’re proposing a partnership with Wayne Tech. Tim there was something bad about Powers and didn’t budge.”

“And the fact Father would kill him if he agrees to it. Powers is dirty. His whole company is,” Damian placed a small plate of food for Valerie to taste and keep her occupied while they waited for their mother to come home and for Bruce to come back from his walk with Ace II.  “You still need to work on your detective skills, little sister.”

“I’m working on it,” Valerie said as she ate. “But Damian, someone has to stop him.”

“Who?”

“Powers. You know that he rose to power as soon as Batman disappeared. He took advantage of the fact that the crime rate is rising and the system is total shit – no offense to Barbs.”

“Again. Evidence. I think you’re being too reliant on your magic, Val. You need to work on finding the connections that would lead to the truth. Magic can’t solve everything.”

Valerie frowned as the memory of that moment she held her grandfather’s body, hoping her magic would save him. “You don’t have to remind me.”

Damian sighed and messed with her hair. “Stop thinking about this, Val. It’s not your job. Let Red Robin or Nightwing do it.”

Valerie scoffed. “Nightwing is too busy leading the Titans since the Justice League retired. Red Robin is there with him too. Batwoman’s gone, along with Oracle… Cassandra’s traveling and doing her work wherever she goes. Steph has moved on too. And who knows when Jason’s coming home.”

Damian frowned. “Let them handle it. The best you can do is give them a lead with this theory of yours.”

“Be a bystander, you mean. I find it hypocritical that Dad let you do the hero thing and not me.”

“It wasn’t the life we chose, Val. Dick and Jason were given a chance to have a new life with it. Cassandra and I? We were born into it. We had no choice… it seems it was just Tim who really understood the job from the very beginning,” Damian sat beside his sister and took a piece of the food he made. “The war we were fighting then… to have to wear that mask is not something a kid your age should be doing, I understand that now. Trust me, I was throwing a tantrum like you when I was your age and when I was younger. The life you have now is the one we all worked hard fighting for. We want you to live without ever having to go through what we did.”

“I know.”

“You sure? Looks like you don’t.”

Valerie slumped on her brother’s shoulder and sighed. “I just… I have all of this power, and you guys practically taught me how to fight —”

“For self-defense, Gotham is not a walk in the park.”

“—and you expect me to just watch as Gotham go down like this… all your hard work gone. It’s like you just gave up.”

Damian sighed.

“You can’t save people from themselves, Val,” the sound of their father’s voice had Valerie sit up. Bruce entered the kitchen without making a sound – even when he had a cane – and looked at her with solemnity. “My parents. Your grandparents told me to never give up on Gotham, and I didn’t. I fought all my life until I ended up like this. The truth is you can’t save Gotham from itself. The people here refuse to change. They like how the system is now. And for those who the Batman has inspired and changed, they knew better than to stay here.

“Gotham is a purgatory, and the best way to start again is by leaving it. And the reason why we don’t ever leave… is because we live at that boundary between purgatory and paradise. We get the chance to have luxury but also seeing the suffering of those from afar. Reminding us of human nature.”

“Father,” Damian warned him.

“Your brother is right. The life you have now is the one we wish for all to have, and you know damn well why you can’t wear the cowl. Not after that stunt you pulled.”

Valerie winced and looked away.

“Alright, that’s enough. You made your point,” Damian stood and hid Valerie from their father’s gaze.

Bruce Wayne is a good and loving father, but he can also be cruel with his words. Especially when he wants to prove a point. 

“If you have anything on Powers, hand it over to the Commissioner,” Bruce told her. “But that’s it.”

“Yes, Sir,” Valerie muttered. Her response startled Bruce and he started to regret his harsh words to her. But before he could apologize, Valerie got up from her seat and said she was going out for a walk, then exited the kitchen through the backdoor and left. But she didn’t leave exactly, she stayed by the side of the kitchen and listened to what they were going to say.

Damian sighed. “Just as we thought you’d ease it with the harsh words when you had Val. She’s not like the rest of us who can brush it off when you’re being a total asshold. She’s…”

Valerie knew that. She always felt like there was a huge difference between her and her family because they were in the family business and she was…

She was the ideal they have.

She loves them but there are times when she feels so alone.

Bruce narrowed his gaze at his son. “Your sister is strong and has a strong and kind heart, and full of hope.”

“Then why crush that hope with the things you say?”

“Because being too hopeful can also bring danger to her. It would lead to naivety or, worse, create an idealist or an extremist. It’s good that she understands how the world is. She’s stubborn too. Too damn stubborn…”

Damian watched as his father sat down on the seat and sighed deeply. “She still won’t go to Yale?”

“She refuses until Bunny graduates. But I don’t think that’s just the reason why.”

“Falcone and Maroni.”

The leader of the gangs who were partially involved in the death of Alfred Pennyworth.

Bruce nodded.

Valerie had enough eavesdropping and left. Joining her was Ace II and Andromeda — her pet dog — and they did not return until her mother came to get her at Alfred’s grave.

 ~*~

Terry McGinnis had guts. She’ll give him that.

Days after him calling out in their gate comms, asking to see her father, and then claiming that Powers had something to do with his father’s death and the nerve gas he’s been making with Kaznia, she came home to the sight of Ace and Andromeda tied to the gate with one line. She was about to release them when a batarang shot out and cut it. Valerie looked up and saw her father’s figure standing by the window telling her to get inside immediately.

Terry McGinnis has stolen the Batman suit.

“I’ll go after him,” Valerie told her father.

“No,” Bruce flatout said.

“But Dad!”

“I said, no,” Bruce turned away from her and turned on the Batcomputer. The old thing hasn’t been used for a long time now. “McGinnis, can you hear me?”

“Whose that?” Terry’s voice sounded in the speakers of the computer.

“It’s Wayne.”

“How are you –”

“There’s a radio receiver in your cowl. Now, you need to listen to me, McGinnis. I want that suit back and I want it back now.”

Right, a teenager is going to do what he tells them to.

“Now is not a good time.”

“THAT SUIT IS NOT YOURS! YOU HAD NO RIGHT!” Bruce exclaimed.

It was the first time Valerie ever heard him raise his voice outside of the training mat, and it made her flinch.

“Somebody had to do something. You weren’t going to,” said Terry.”

“I’m warning you.”

Through the camera of the suit they could see Terry running from the guards that were chasing him.

“The suit works better even better than I thought it would.”

Valerie smirked at his comment. Walking up to her father’s side, she watched closely at the feed they were getting. “I wouldn’t taunt him, McGinnis. The old man’s not as patient as he used to be.”

Bruce turned to his daughter with a frown and she just shrugged.

Terry chuckled. “Good to hear from you again, Princess.”

“This is for final warning,” Bruce said, but Valerie was sure that was directed at both of them. “This is your last chance. Better take it.”

“No thanks, I’m having too much fun.”

“Fun, huh?”

Bruce pulled up the protective casing of a button and pushed it. Activating whatever it was he programmed in the suit. In the middle of his fight, Terry’s body was paralyzed with Bruce shutting down the suit.

“Dad,” Valerie said as she saw Terry get beaten up and the teenager asking for help. Begging Bruce to release the system override. When he still refuses to move, Valerie was about to push the button to save him but her father grabbed her wrist, muted the comms, and said to her: “This is the first lesson. For the both of you.”

“He's going to die!”

“Until you understand what's at stake. The risks. You can never go out there.”

Valerie glared at her father. “I know perfectly well what's at stake. I saw it, didn't I?”

“I know. But he doesn't.”

They heard the gun cock. Bruce looked at his daughter and released her hand. Valerie pushed the button and unmuted their comms. 

“McGinnis, I gave you a break. Now bring that suit back,” said Bruce.

“Love too, but I got these guards all over me,” said Terry.

“There's a broom closet up against that wall. Can you get to it?”

“A broom closet?”

“Do it!”

Terry ran to the door and escaped inside the room. “Now, what? I’m sitting ducks –”

Bruce got up from the seat. “Your turn,” he said to his daughter. “Hurry, he needs your help, Penny.”

“McGinnis,” Valerie took the seat before the Batcomputer. “I’ll open a door for you at the far end of the wall.”

“What door? There’s no door there.”

Opening the map of Powers’ building, Valerie focused at the location where Terry was and focused on the image of the prints and creating a path for him. It was the first time ever used her magic at a long distance. Her magic, as her mother would call it, was mostly technological and reality bending magic. She is able to understand anything with a single touch, can recreate its form by understanding its components. She believes it was her interest in technology and engineering that influenced her magic’s outlet. Her mother had the forces of nature, fire, and life. She had technology and reality.

“Walk past it,” Valerie told Terry.

“What?!”

“Do it!” 

“If I walk into a wall…” Terry ran and instead of slamming into a wall, he went past it and was at the other side. “How did you?”

“Now, bring back the suit,” Bruce said at the comms. “If you don’t, I’ll shutdown the suit again. This time, for good.”

“I read up on you, Mr. Wayne. How you lost your folks,” Terry began. “The guy who murdered my dad is in that transport, this is my one chance to nail him.”

Maybe that was what got him. Dick did tell her that Bruce’s way to keep kids like them from joining the wrong crowd was to put them in a colorful costume, spandex, make them fight crime, and find closure. 

“The hover pad is at the Northeast Sector,” Bruce gave in. “After that you come back with the suit.”

Terry chuckled. “You got it,” he said and ran to chase the chopper about to leave with the man he was after. Turning the comms on mute for a moment, Bruce told his daughter. Whether it’s a success or not, you open a portal and you bring him back here when you think he’s in danger. Understood?” He said to Valerie.

“Yes, Sir.”

Bruce frowned. “Val…” he began.

“We can talk about it later, we’re still on a mission… and I still need your help,” she turned back on the comms. “Making sure this idiot comes back alive. I don’t want to have to get a corpse out of that suit and bury it somewhere in the estate where the cops won’t find it.”

“Don’t worry, Princess, this idiot isn’t planning on dying in this suit,” Terry spoke.

“Call me that again and I will shut that suit, McGinnis.”

Bruce smirked and leaned on the computer, watching as his daughter and this young man reminded him how it was before. 

Terry was able to reach the chopper before it could be airborne but it meant he had to find a way to get in while keeping a strong hold while using one of the gadgets in the suit to open it. Inside, he was about to attach the pilots but when he got to the front, no one was there. Who was manning this flight? The question was answered when the man who murdered his father appeared.

Their fight led to them sending the craft crashing to the water, but as soon as the helicopter touched the surface of the water, Terry felt an arm grab him and pull him through something, and one moment he was in a helicopter about to crash into water, the next he was at the floor of the Batcave. 

“What the –” Mr. Fixx began, utterly confused, to find a cave instead of the seafloor. Before he could see more —

WHACK!

Mr. Fixx fell to the ground with a sure concussion after getting hit with a staff. Looking up, Terry found the last person he expected to be wielding it, he was thinking it was Bruce Wayne but it seems everyone in the Wayne family knows how to fight.

“Thanks –” Terry froze when the staff was pointed at his face and at its very end, he saw the high-voltage taser that was threatening to electrocute him.

Valerie smirked. “You’ve had your fun. Now, the suit.”

“And I thought we were getting along well.”

“Wanna join him in the Dreaming?” 

“The what — you know what, fine.” Terry got up and removed the suit, leaving him in his underwear and shirt. “Mind if I borrow some clothes?”

Valerie took the suit and handed it to her father. “I can lend you some of my brothers’ old clothes. I’ll leave you two to catch up.” She turned off the taser from the staff and with a push of a button, the thing shrunk to the size of a baton. The last Valerie heard as she went up to the clock was her father telling Terry: “I’ll call in Red Robin and have him take this one to the GCPD. You don’t need to worry about the GCPD making under the table deals. A contact of ours will make sure that does not happen. And Valerie will open a portal for you to head home.” 

And that was it.

~*~

Mary McGinnis’ home was a lovely and modest place. After knocking on the woman’s door, the Wayne family was welcomed inside by the woman and excused herself to wake her son. Alone in the living room, Valerie helped her father to sit down, even when could do it on his own, and Vivian sat beside Bruce.

“I’ll do the talking,” said Bruce.

Vivian chuckled. “Worried we might embarrass you in front of your new friend?”

Valerie smirked at her father, and Bruce did not appreciate their teasing.

When Mary said that Terry will be out in a bit, she offered the Waynes some coffee and came back with a tray of black coffee with sugar and milk. 

“How old is Valerie?” Mary asked them.

“I’m eighteen,” Valerie answered.

“A few years older than Terry! I guess this is your last year at Gotham Academy, then?”

Seeing how awkward the question was for her, Vivian and Bruce answered it for their daughter. “Valerie graduated three years early from Gotham Academy, she’s now getting a degree in engineering at Gotham University,” said Vivian.

“Is that right? You must be a genius then!”

“After that, she’ll be heading to Yale,” Bruce said, mostly a reminder for his daughter who has been putting off the chance to go to an IV League university.

“I will, just as Bunny graduates,” Valerie muttered.

As they waited, Bruce then told Mary a proposition he had for Terry, one that he and Vivian agreed would be “good” for him. Their small talk got cut short when Terry finally got out of his room.

“Terence, sorry to disturb you at this hour,” Bruce said in a way that was not how Terry knew him to be.

“It’s okay,” Terry shrugged. “You’re Professor Vivian Pryor.”

Vivian got up and shook his hand. “It’s nice to finally meet you, Terrence. Bruce and Val has told me so much about you.”

For a moment, Terry was sure her brown eyes glowed gold for a second there.

“You never told me you knew the Waynes,” said his mother.

“Well, actually…”

“Why, I owe this boy my life. He defended me and my daughter from a bunch of hooligans once,” said Bruce. 

The sight of Valerie raising a brow and getting pinched by her mother almost made Terry laugh.

Bruce continued. “I tried to repay him but he absolutely refused.”

“Mr. Wayne wants to offer you a job,” said Mary.

“I find that in my old age, I can use a part-time assistant. With my wife working more at the Wayne Foundation, and my daughter at university –”

What?! Terry turned to Valerie in disbelief. But she looks like to be the same age as him!

“–I could use a part-time assistant. A goffer. Go-for-this, go-for-that. An ally as it were. Would you be interested?”

“Of course, he would!” said Mary. “It would be wonderful to work for someone as famous as Mr. Wayne.”

“Does it include driving the Princess to her classes?” Terry joked.

Valerie glared at him and his mother chastised him for it.

“I drive on my own,” said Valerie.

“You’re my part-time assistant. And Val doesn’t like having one. She never liked it whenever we would hand her to a babysitter then,” Bruce said, to ease the tension.

“Alright. Yeah, I’d take it,” said Terry.

“I warn you, I can be a difficult task master,” Bruce got up. “I expect nothing short but excellence from all who work from me.”

Vivian got up as well and added, “I’ll make sure he doesn’t take it too far. You’re still young and have a lot to learn.”

“I think I can handle it,” said Terry.

“Very good, Mr. McGinnis,” Bruce shook his hand. “Welcome to our world.”

~ Extra Ending ~

The knock on her bedroom door pulled Valerie from her work. Turning from her desk, she saw her father standing by the doorframe, like a vampire waiting for her to let him in. And like a vampire, indeed, he only stepped in when she gestured for him to enter.

“Need something?” Valerie asked.

“Yes… I simply want to talk,” Bruce sat on her bed and patted on the space beside him so she can join him there. Valerie left her desk to join her father, and waited for what he has to say. “Ever since I retired from being Batman… I know that I’ve changed. I became cold and full of frustration, and I would lash it out on those around me, and sometimes it’s you who gets it. Your mother called me out for it many times and yet she still stays at my side. Patient and understanding… and you have been patient too, my dear, and because of that, I am so sorry.”

“I understand why you’re like that. For almost thirty-five years you were Batman, you had a mission. You had hope, and suddenly something like that happened… then all the work you did is just going back to the very start. What you said is true, though. It’s Gotham who won’t change, and it will always need a Batman.

“And I think with you having McGinnis here as Batman would warm you up a bit. You would smile more, like you always do before.”

Seeing the sadness in her eyes, Bruce took his daughter by her cheek and had her look at him. “McGinnis has his strengths, and you have yours. Things changed between us since I retired but what hasn't changed is how much I love you, Val, and how proud I am to have you as my daughter… this is just your father turning to a senile old man.”

Valerie laughed and brought her father to an embrace. “I missed you, Da.”

Bruce smiled to hear the old way she would call him and held his daughter tight. “We’ll be fine, I promise.”

Releasing her from the embrace, Bruce placed a kiss on her forehead and got up, bring his daughter with him. “Your mother is in the kitchen making Jason’s favorite.”

“Jay’s coming home?”

“Only to visit, then he’s heading out again. Vivian mentioned that his leg was hurting more now, and he needs another session with her healing. But your mother has called Damian to come and check it out too, Jason’s just stubborn to turn to Damian for help sometimes.”

“Poor, Jay,” Valerie laughed.

“While we wait, mind helping me with the upgrades of the Cave, and to set up a training regimen for Terry? He has the will to be Batman, but he’s still not as good as a fighter.”

“Permission to kick his ass, Dad?”

Bruce laughed. “Granted, Penny.”

[darklinaforever]

My god. What did you smoke to think that was well written ?! At what fucking moment ?! And lol ! If people really think that this kiss will have an effect on the Daemyra couple, people are completly dreaming. That Rhaenyra will have a serious relationship with Mysaria ? Even less ! It is very likely that this stupid kiss will not even be discussed in the future. Also... at one point in the video, the girl tries to say in relation to those who would have reacted badly to the kiss : "But don't straight people also kiss when they are sad ?" THE FUCKING CONNECTION ?!

And the rest is WORST !

Except that fucking yes ! There could have been official sapphic content in HOTD without these shitty relationships that are Rhaenicent and Rhaesaria ! Why ?! BECAUSE THERE ARE CANONICAL LGBTQ+ COUPLES IN THE HISTORY OF DANCE ! INCLUDING SAPPHIC ! But obviously you're not complaining about the non-adaptation of canonical queer relationships which are therefore not doomed to go nowhere or break up like Rhaenicent and Rhaesaria ! Why are you happy with representation that won't go anywhere and the erasure of canonical queer relationships ?! Are you stupid or what ?!

And yes, Rhaenicent is what we call queerbaiting ! Pure and simple ! How can you even dare to say otherwise with such aplomb ?! The writers and actors are constantly contradicting each other about the Rhaenicent relationship ! Open your fucking eyes !

Pigeons, that's what everyone who supports these two shitty ships are ! And no, I'm not sorry to say it, and I will never sorry. Wake up people, damn it !

And you know what could have been good to confirm Rhaenyra's possible bisexuality, even if I don't think she's bi in the source material ? LAENA VELARYON ! HER FUCKING BEST FRIEND ! AND NOT WITH THE TWO WOMEN WHO RUINED THE BEGINNING (ALICENT / yes yes, in HOTD, Alicent is still Rhaenyra's abuser, because Daemon, outside of the OCC strangulation scene, never really abused her) AND THE END OF HER LIFE (MYSARIA) ! BUNCH OF IDIOTS !

Also, instead of fundamentally choosing to make Rhaenyra a bi person when she probably isn't in the book objectively speaking, well just adapt the true queer characters of the dance ? No ?

No one complains that the real queer characters and relationships aren't adapted ?

You prefer that we transform a potentially straight character into bi to make her be in relationships that will go nowhere because she will never leave her man ? Well you really are pitiful.

I'm so tired of the attempts to defend Rhaenicent and Rhaesaria, two shitty relationships that were poorly written in HOTD but when you take Fire and Blood become downright insulting.

Also, another thing I find ironic. The fact of always trying to say in defense of these two ships that we don't care about the source material that is Fire and Blood. Listen to me, you idiot, without Fire and Blood there is no HOTD. So you shut up about the neglect of the source material because you just come across as even more stupid than you probably are. But strangely, to talk about the so-called infidelities of Daemon, present precisely in Fire and Blood and not HOTD of these same fans, well there are people ! While these infidelities did not take place in HOTD and may never take place. And beyond that, at no time have these so-called infidelities been proven. At no time. And if you have a functioning brain in terms of reflection and analysis, it is necessarily probable that these infidelities of Daemon with Mysaria and Nettles are purely false. But of course, the fact is that most of these people are condemning Daemon for something he hasn't done yet and may never do, in the only material that matters to these people, namely HOTD. But strangely, Rhaenyra's infidelitie, no one cares about that. On the contrary, it's apparently great because it's sapphic "representation". Rhaesaria is representation ? An improvised scene that comes out of nowhere and has no impact on the storyline ? Let me laugh. And apparently, Rhaenyra would be justified, because Daemon strangled her at the end of season 1. You know, that other scene that came out of nowhere and made no sense. But obviously, critical thinking is dead in this type of person.

Put Fire and Blood aside if you want to justify these two shitty ships, but the reality is that they don't need Fire and Blood to be bad. They are simply poorly written in the context of HOTD alone.

These two ships make me so fucking sick.

[lucifermorningstxr]

Although he was prepared for whatever the night would throw at him, that didn't make it any easier for Lucifer to see Chloe like this. It didn't take the skills of a Jedi to see see was hurting over everything right now, and yet here she was, consoling him over his shame. "No, I know Detective. I know. It has been twelve hours..." He nodded reassuringly at her, his gaze set on hers. "We didn't really have for fun, you know, with my keeping the scene in one piece. This may come as a shock to you, but Eve had absolutely no idea what she was doing." Sarcasm, Lucifer's crutch. One of them, at least. But it was true, as was everything he'd ever said.

But now it was Lucifer's turn to soothe Chloe.

"You're right, Detective. I don't like it. I don't like any of this, of these past nine months. But I get it, and I understand it. In fact, I agree." He, in turn, rests his hands on her comfortingly. "If anyone wants to take this slow, it's me. I don't want to mess this up again, Detective. To mess us up. I know I've been unpredictable in the past, but I really want to do this time differently. Because, the truth is... every time I ran away, it was because I was avoiding the inevitable rejection myself. So while what you did recently really, really hurt me, if I'm honest... and you know I only ever am... I know I've hurt you just as much, and I want to stop that. More than anything."

Lucifer took Chloe's nervous hands in his to calm her fidgeting as he continued. "Most of the day I was managing Eve. I'd been questioning us for some time, but I never had the courage to act on it until that chat we had in the car. At least that's when it started, and today, your 'blow up' was the last straw. Rather, it was the reassurance of support I needed to know I'd be okay without her, without settling. Because that's what you've always done for me, Detective. You show me I deserve more than I think I do. I'm not sure if I deserve you, that's besides the point, but my plan is to stay around if you'll have me." He looks up at her with a look of total honesty, vulnerability, and a bit of pleading. It was humiliating, but it's only his human, so he'd be okay.

After what Chloe had said next, Lucifer was only ever more certain of his true desire to work his hardest to make this work with her.

"No, no... that's just it, Detective. That's why I like you so bloody much. Eve, Candy, the Britneys... where are they now, and where am I? I'm here, with the 'boring,'" He does air quotes for emphasis. "Chloe Decker because she's the one I want to spend my time with. She's the shoe to my pair, the one who taught me by example to be myself unabashedly, the one who has shown me that my, albeit extraordinarily glamourous, life could have more substance to it, and that's all because of you. You've shown me how exciting things can really be. You made me vulnerable, for Dad's sake, Detective! Don't you see how special that is?" Now Lucifer was the one rambling, being mushy and sappy once again, but it was the truth, and she obviously needed to hear his honesty right now. "And as far as I'm concerned, it's the past. I can't think of anyone I trust more... you saw me cry, Detective. Nobody sees the Devil cry, but you have. Are we perfect? No, unfortunately, I suppose we aren't, but we could be if we work together. So, I'm not jumping into anything, and neither should you, but I'm telling you what I want... what I truly desire. And that is to try this our damnedest."

Lucifer held Chloe even closer as she moved into him, pulling her so that they were lying back a little more in intimate comfort. "I don't need to have sex with you to know I want to keep going with you, Detective. Remember when we met, I'd always joke about getting you into bed, but when I had the chance, I turned you down because you're way more than a one night stand. You're way more than anything I've ever really had, so I'd like to figure out what exactly you are, what we are." Of course, speaking between kisses was his least favorite way to kiss, as he'd much rather be kissing his human than bearing his soul for far too many times that night, but again, it was necessary and he was ultimately happy to finally be in this place with her. Even so, the kisses were the sweetest he'd ever had, and he could go on for hours. In fact, as long as it didn't lead to more tonight, and if Chloe was okay with everything he'd just bore to her, he just might kiss her until they passed out.

Lucifer understood good and well the hesitation Chloe was feeling about everything after all that they'd been through, and while he respected it and even largely shared the same sentiments, he was more confident in them than ever before. If they were meant to do their damnedest to make it work between them, somehow, some way, they wouldn't be here together now. Even so, such a privilege was not to be abused, so Lucifer was more conscious of Chloe's body language than he'd ever been of anyone else's ever. So even as bombastic as the kiss was, no matter how badly he wanted every inch of her inside and out, forever and always, when she pulled back, as natural as it was, so did he, ever so gently. Not so gentle was the question his human posed next. It wasn't a pleasant one to answer, but the Devil understood it was a necessary one, and he could only answer honestly. "This morning, Detective..." He was a bit embarrassed by his answer, ashamed even, as he knew damn well he was squashing any and all chances of them going anywhere tonight, and likely tainting the moment they'd just had, but his honesty was a constant, and he wasn't going to start lying now, especially with his human and how far the pair had come. His gaze maintained hers, and he awaited her reply with an honesty in his eyes matching the moment.

[ikkyfics]

The Proposal

James Potter x fem!reader

Summary: You looked up, noticing his fixed and enchanted gaze, and raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “What’s up? Scared of the cake, Potter?” He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Just... you’re too beautiful.”

Warnings: none

A/N: yes, @meelusinee you convinced me to write this

Part 8 of Marry Me

Masterlist

James Potter was a walking disaster.

In his living room, he paced back and forth, his right hand making his already messy hair even more disheveled, while his left held a small blue velvet box with a tight grip. His footsteps echoed on the floor, a stark contrast to the carefree laughter coming from the sofa. Sirius, sprawled out as though he had no care in the world, watched his friend’s frantic movements with eyes gleaming in amusement.

“Prongs, you’re gonna wear a hole in the floor if you keep this up,” Sirius remarked, his voice laced with sarcasm. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “Seriously, why are you so nervous? She’s been with you for years. It’s not like it’s a big surprise.”

James stopped abruptly, spinning on his heels to face Sirius. “Not a surprise? Not a surprise?! Sirius, I’m about to ask the woman of my life to marry me! What if she says no?”

Sirius burst into laughter, the sound echoing through the room, so characteristic that Remus, sitting beside him, rolled his eyes with a smile. “She’s gonna say no? Oh, Prongs, get real. The only thing she’s probably wondering is why you didn’t ask her sooner.”

James huffed, clearly annoyed by his friend's lack of seriousness. “You’re not helping!”

“Maybe because you don’t need help,” Remus replied calmly as always. He extended his hand to Sirius, who took it reflexively, a gesture so natural between them that James didn’t even notice. “James, she loves you. That’s enough. But, of course, you could try looking a little less… desperate.”

James shot a pleading look at Peter, who was sitting on the floor, watching the interaction with a hesitant smile. “Wormtail, at least you’ll support me, right?”

Peter scratched his head, clearly uncomfortable. “Well, uh… I think they have a point, James. You’re kind of… hysterical.”

“HYSTERICAL?” James exclaimed, throwing his hands up. “I’m being rational! I’m preparing for one of the most important moments of my life, and you guys are here laughing at me!”

“Only because it’s adorable,” Sirius said, winking exaggeratedly at James.

Remus sighed, standing up from the sofa and walking over to James. He placed his hands on his friend’s shoulders and looked at him seriously. “Alright, James. Let’s sort this out. First, do you have the ring?”

“Of course I have the ring!” James replied immediately, pulling the small box from his jacket pocket and opening it to show.

“Great,” Remus said, nodding. “Now, the clothes.” He took a step back, examining James from head to toe. “Sirius, do you think he looks presentable?”

Sirius stood up, striking an exaggerated fashion critic pose, hand on chin, with a theatrical look. “Hmm… The tie is in place, the hair is… well, as good as his hair can get. But something’s missing.” He flashed a mischievous smile and pulled a small spray from his pocket. “Fresh breath, Prongs. We’re not taking any chances.”

James rolled his eyes but obediently opened his mouth as Sirius sprayed. “Happy now?”

“Almost,” Sirius replied, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. “But you could be a little less James. Maybe more charming.”

“That’s impossible,” Peter commented, glancing at the clock. “Guys, he needs to go. It’s almost time.”

“Alright,” Remus said, giving James a pat on the shoulder. “Breathe. Relax. You’ve got this.”

James looked at his friends, his heart racing but feeling a comforting warmth in their presence. “Thanks, guys. Really.”

Sirius winked again. “That’s what we’re here for, Prongs. Now go out there and crush it. And don’t forget to breathe.”

With the ring in his pocket and a nervous smile, James finally left the room, ready for the most important moment of his life. And, Merlin, he hoped he was up to it. Without daring to think any further, he left.

The heart in his chest seemed to leap when he appeared outside a small flower shop, softly illuminated by gentle lights. It was a simple place, but full of charm, the scent of flowers filling the air. He knew exactly what he was looking for: a bouquet of her favorite flowers, something that reflected everything she meant to him. The attendant, noticing the anxious expression on his face, quickly put together a delicate and perfect arrangement. The vibrant colors and the soft fragrance seemed to say more than any words ever could.

When James left the shop, the nervousness still clung to him, but the bouquet firmly in his hands was a reminder of why he was doing all of this. He took a deep breath before focusing on the next stop: her front door.

The world seemed to slow down when he knocked on the door. Each second between the sound of his knuckles hitting the wood and the echoing footsteps from the other side felt like an eternity. But then, the door opened, and there you were, and James felt the ground disappear beneath his feet.

You were absolutely radiant, and he needed a moment to remember how to breathe. The dress you wore seemed made for you, hugging your body in a way that left him speechless. Your hair fell in soft waves, and the night’s light seemed to play with the strands, illuminating them as if they were made of stardust. Your eyes met his, shining with genuine joy, and the smile you opened was enough to make James’s nervousness melt away like ice in the sun.

He gave a crooked smile, the one that was so characteristically his, and extended the bouquet toward you. “For you,” he said, his voice rougher than he expected.

Your smile widened as you delicately accepted the bouquet, holding it as if it were something precious. You brought the flowers to your nose, inhaling the scent with a graceful gesture, and James thought he’d never seen anything so beautiful.

“You know how to win me over, Potter,” you teased, your voice full of affection that made his chest warm.

He raised an eyebrow, his smile now more daring. “I think I deserve a kiss for that, don’t you?”

You laughed, shaking your head. “So modest.”

Before you could continue, James stepped forward, pulling you gently closer. The bouquet was carefully set aside because, at that moment, the only thing that mattered to him was you. His lips found yours with a sweet urgency, as if he had been saving that kiss for hours — and maybe he had.

The world around them faded away. It was just you and him, the heat of your bodies close, the touch of your hands on his face, his fingertips caressing your back. The kiss was slow, but intense, a mixture of passion and tenderness that made both their hearts beat faster.

You sighed against his lips, a soft laugh escaping as you tried, without much conviction, to pull away. “James, the flowers,” you said, your voice breathless.

He opened his eyes, the mischievous glint returning. “I can buy more,” he murmured before kissing you again, and you gave in, laughing between the kisses.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless, faces flushed, eyes sparkling. You gently touched his face, wiping the traces of your lipstick that now stained his lips. “You’re a mess,” you commented, but there was so much affection in your voice that he simply smiled.

“Messy, but beautiful?” he teased, tilting his head.

“Beautiful doesn’t even begin to cover it,” you replied before picking up the bouquet again. “I’m going to put this in the vase before we head out, okay?”

James watched as you walked away, the bouquet firmly in your hands. He let out a sigh, smiling to himself. How had he gotten so lucky to have you in his life?

The restaurant he took you to was small, with dim lighting and candles scattered across the tables, creating an intimate and cozy atmosphere. The walls were decorated with old paintings and dried flowers, and the soft sound of a piano played in the background, as if the night had been made just for them. James held your hand across the table, his thumb lazily tracing circles on your skin, as if he needed the contact to remind himself you were there.

“Did you like it here?” he asked, his voice light, but his eyes watching every small change in your expression.

“Like it? James, this is perfect,” you replied, smiling in a way that made his heart race. “It’s so... peaceful. It feels like it’s just the two of us.”

He gave a small, shy smile, the kind that was almost bashful, but with a touch of satisfaction. “That was the plan.”

You spent the dinner talking, laughing, and sharing stories. He seemed more relaxed than he had hours ago, as though your company was the cure for any nervousness he might have felt. Every now and then, he’d make silly comments that would make you laugh, the sound easily becoming his favorite music of the night.

When dessert arrived — a small chocolate cake with berries — James made no move to touch it. He was simply... looking at you.

You looked up, noticing his fixed and enchanted gaze, and raised an eyebrow with an amused smile. “What’s up? Scared of the cake, Potter?”

He laughed, shaking his head. “No. Just... you’re too beautiful.”

Your smile faltered for a second, and you felt your cheeks warm. "You don't exist," you murmured, looking away at the plate, but James didn’t let you escape that easily.

He gently squeezed your hand, bringing your attention back to him. "I'm serious," he said, his voice lower now, filled with more emotion. "Every time I look at you, I think about how lucky I am to have found you. How lucky I am that you chose me."

"James..." you started, but he shook his head, interrupting you.

"I need to say this," he said, nervously laughing, but his gaze was fixed on yours, shining with something that made your heart race. "Since you came into my life, everything has changed. I never thought anyone could make me feel like this, you know? Like everything makes sense, like I've found my place in the world. And that place... is by your side."

You stayed silent, your eyes starting to well up as his smile grew wider.

"I don't want to imagine my life without you anymore," he continued, his voice growing firmer as he took a deep breath. "And I know I'm a mess, but I'm a mess that's in love with you. So..."

He slowly stood up, pulling the small velvet box from his pocket as his eyes never left yours. He knelt beside the table, his hand trembling slightly as he opened the box, revealing the ring he had chosen with so much care.

"Will you marry me?"

You blinked, a single tear running down your cheek as a huge smile took over your face. "James..."

He kept his eyes fixed on yours, his breathing slightly faster, as if he was holding himself together to keep from falling apart. The small distance between you seemed insignificant, and at the same time, every second felt eternal as he waited for your answer.

"Are you sure you want this?" you asked, your voice faltering as a knot of emotion formed in your throat. It wasn’t doubt — it was love, pure and overwhelming, spilling out in words.

His smile faltered for a moment, but only to give way to something even more genuine. He chuckled softly, the hand that wasn’t holding the velvet box gently reaching up to touch your face, his fingers gliding over your skin as if you were something too precious to rush. "I’ve been sure since the first day I saw you. Even before I understood what love was, I knew it was you."

Your tears fell freely now, but there was no sadness in them — only the overwhelming joy of hearing those words, of feeling his devotion in every syllable. You nodded, the smile trembling on your lips. "Yes, James," you whispered, then repeated louder, more confidently, so he would never doubt it. "Yes, I will marry you."

His eyes closed for a moment, as if absorbing the moment, engraving it into his soul. When he opened them again, there were tears there too, shining like a silent confession that he was completely, irreparably in love with you.

He took your hand with all the care in the world, as if he feared breaking something so precious. "Thank you," he murmured, his voice faltering as he slid the ring onto your finger. The gesture was slow, almost ritualistic, and when the ring finally settled into place, he leaned down to kiss your hand. His lips touched your skin with such reverence that you felt the warmth spread through your chest, the simple act, yet full of emotion, as if he were silently swearing that he would never stop loving you.

"Thank you?" you repeated, a soft laugh escaping as you wiped away the tears that kept falling.

"Yes," he replied, his tone husky and still full of emotion. "For saying yes. For existing. For being mine."

"James..." you began, but he shook his head with a small smile, leaning in a little more, so close that you could feel his warmth, the intensity in his blue eyes, which were even brighter with tears.

"No, let me finish," he asked, his voice softening. "I’m not perfect. You know that better than anyone. I’m messy, a little impulsive, and sometimes I’ll say or do something stupid. But with you..." He took a deep breath, still holding your hand. "With you, I want to be the best I can. Not because you demand it of me, but because you make me want to be better. You make me believe I can be."

You didn’t answer right away, because any word seemed too small for what you were feeling. So, you did what seemed most right: you leaned in toward him, your lips meeting his in a kiss that was both sweet and intense, a silent promise that you loved him as much as he loved you.

When you finally pulled away, your foreheads still touching, you whispered, a smile playing on your lips. "You’re already everything to me, James. You don’t need to change anything."

He laughed, the sound muffled as he placed his lips on your hand again, still holding it tightly. "If I’m everything to you," he murmured, his voice full of emotion and a touch of humor, "then I’m already the luckiest man in the world."

You laughed, shaking your head as you looked at him with eyes shining with love. "And I’m the luckiest woman."

"Then we’re even," he joked, finally standing up and pulling you back into a tight embrace, as if he couldn’t stand the distance anymore.

In that moment, the whole world disappeared. It was just you and James, and the certainty that this was only the beginning of something even more beautiful.

taglist: @hisparentsgallerryy

[altocat]

As much as I do love and support Lucretia's dubious science wrongs, I think it's important to remember everyone on the Jenova Project (sans Hojo) Really did believe that Jenova was a Cetra. To Lucretia her baby, if everything went correctly, would be no different from a human aside from having the ability to speak with the Planet and help find the "promised land".

Doing so would be the greatest feat in science, it would abate an inevitable energy crisis and make the entire world a better place, basically the ultimate repentance for wrong she felt she committed to Grimoire. She did not know she was putting evil alien genes into her baby, and it was Hojo's abusive ass who kept that information from her and everyone else. Her tragedy is more in the fact she was conned than her setting out to do evil science from go.

I would definitely argue that Gast is way worse than Lucrecia. From what I understand, he eventually found OUT that Jenova wasn't a Cetra and rather than take responsibility for his actions, he dumped Sephiroth in order to pursue something else, leaving him at the mercy of Hojo. I understand this is all offscreen subtext that they could easily retcon it in Part 3, but yeah. Lucrecia still did nothing wrong compared to Gast.

I frame Lucrecia's logic as her committing to the Jenova Project as a way to make up for what happened with Grimoire, as you said above. I believe she genuinely thought this was a redemption of sorts, and that she'd be permitted to be involved in Sephiroth's upbringing. There's nothing in her speech or motives that suggests that she would have EVER sanctioned Sephiroth becoming a weapon. I think that's probably why Hojo stole Sephiroth from her at the first opportunity. Lucrecia probably thought she was birthing some sort of child-savior that she could groom and nurture into becoming a protector of the planet, a Cetra that could revolutionize the foundations of the world. Her shock and horror at Sephiroth being taken AWAY from her suggests that she WANTED him in her life, and that she recognized that giving him over to Hojo was a bad thing.

I'd also like to point out that (also unlike Gast), Lucrecia left because there was no rational way for her to reach Sephiroth. Having failed to save Vincent, she likely reasoned that she was completely powerless in going up against a major organization like Shinra. If she can't even rescue her baby from Hojo, how could she possibly go up against the very SYMBOL of fascist capitalism? The very same organization that starts WARS with ARMIES of soldiers at its disposal? Sephiroth would have been heavily guarded. And Hojo could just as easily threaten his life if Lucrecia got any fancy ideas. Whereas Gast fled for his own selfish pursuits, Lucrecia fled out of despair and complete futility, looking to PUNISH herself any way that her body would allow in penance for her sins. She wanted her son. But she couldn't have him. It was one more life she couldn't save. And since she couldn't die on her own terms, she sought whatever means necessary to isolate herself from the rest of the world, to ensure that she couldn't do any more damage.

Do I think Lucrecia would have been a good mother to Sephiroth? No, probably not. I think she would have loved him, and would have done her best to be a good mother to him. But I also think her demons would have caught up with her and she would not always be the most stable presence to be around. I think having her in his life would have been infinitely healthier for Sephiroth than the canon alternative. But that doesn't mean that Lucrecia would be the ideal mother he fantasizes about.

I just think that Lucrecia is NOT the unholy satanic abomination that "fans" label her to be. She's a tragic character caught in a downward spiral. With no idea how to claw her way out. She's done terrible things, but not out of malice or the desire to cause harm to others. She wants to fix her mistakes. But she doesn't know how. And so she punishes herself over and over and over again, unintentionally making the situation worse. It's honestly kind of depressing. I don't think she needs to be a perfect, flawless, angelic character. But she's far from the worst offender in the Jenova Project.

[theflagscene]

My Top 10 Fave QL Characters of 2024 🤩

More end of the years lists from me, because clearly I have nothing to do for the rest of the week... I wish I was joking. Much like my pervious lists, my only rule for this is that at least some of the series needed to air this year. It can have started in 2023 or will be ending in 2025, as long as some—or all—of the series aired this year, then it's fair game.

1 ) God - Monster Next Door

What can I say about God that hasn't already been screamed from the rooftops by literally everyone who watched the series? He was aptly nicknamed, because this gentle giant was a gift from heaven. The greenest green flag, even when mad or upset, he was still as green as a damn emerald! The sweetest golden retriever character to have graced my screen this year, I will always love this character and this series, it's become a comfort watch for me, that's for sure.

2 ) Yai - The Sign

There aren't enough sweet himbos in QLs imo, typically whilst cute but dumb, they're also mean or bigoted or just not very likable. Yai broke all of those stereotypes, he was cutest himbo around, a perfect brother, friend, bro and husband. I knew I would adore him from the very first episode and I was not wrong, he did not disappoint. Every scene Yai was in wasn't enough, I wanted so much more of Yai (and his scary beautiful wife, Sand).

3 ) Joker - Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart

Joker and his emotional support idiots might have fumbled the ball at damn near every turn, but he was absolutely adorable whilst doing it. I think it's physically impossible for me to dislike a character War plays, so me adoring Joke was not a surprise to me. A master thief who really wasn't that great at not getting caught, a hopeless romantic, mama bear and perfect grandson-in-law? What more could I have asked for?... Possibly better fake tattoos, but we can't have it all lol.

4 ) Jeff - Pit Babe

I admit with no shame whatsoever that I found Jeff to be one of the most interesting characters on the show. His powers were the ones with the farthest reaching consequences and the most difficult to live with, he was tragic in all the ways I love a character to be tragic. I really wished I could've watched a version of the series from his pov, because I feel like I would’ve fast forwarded way less lol!

5 ) Tae Myungha - Love For Love's Sake

His depressive aura bewitched me body and soul, what can I say? The fact that he tried so hard to make everyone around him feel loved, wanted and important whilst he spent his entire life feeling none of that just broke my damn heart. He was the perfectly example of: the saddest people always try their hardest to make people happy because they know what it's like to feel absolutely worthless and they don't want anybody to feel like that.

6 ) JJ - This Love Doesn't Have Long Beans

Poor JJ has an idiot for a bestie and a douchebag (affection) for a love interest, this dude did not have an easy time of it lol. His forever exasperated resting bitch face and constant annoyance at literally everything that came out of both Plawan and Methas's mouths made me laugh so much, JJ had absolutely no time for any of their shit and yet he was constantly dealing with their shit. The poor guy needed a vacation away from the people in his life even though he loved them, which I totally understand lol!

7 ) Aylin - 23.5

While this wasn't my favourite series, Aylin was definitely one of my favourite characters. Her autistic coded self just spoke to me, I too dislike humans to a level that I would easily take the first alien spaceship off the planet lol. Aylin was so sweet and funny, I loved the way she spoke and her lil hats! I just wanted to squish her!

8 ) Fadel - The Heart Killers

Was I expecting to go into this series loving Fadel? No. Should I have? Absolutely. I have always loved the shrew characters when it came to adaptations of The Taming of the Shrew, which is the point of the character so ya know, duh! Lol. Any series with FirstKhao in it I always assume one of them will end up being my fave because well, it's them! But Fadel is the realest of the real when it comes to the slog of daily life, his routines, his annoyance with the general population, his need to remind himself that killing people whilst working in customer service is not worth the clean up nor the prison time. Sure, he's an assassin on the weekends, but hell, who isn't working two jobs in our current economy?

9 ) Rock - Cherry Magic TH

Rock was the perfect sunshine dope of a sidekick and I loved him for it, completely oblivious yet extremely caring at the same time. A man smitten with the idea of a woman who wants to eat fatty foods, will kidnap his Phi for a super secret mission no questions asked and respects a woman's right to say no without becoming an incel about it, he really was a joy to watch. It also helped that Sing played him, because Sing is an adorable ball of sunshine and I luff him.

10 ) Tan - We Are

The first person to get his man, and so easily. It made perfect sense why Fang fell for Tan, his hyperactive sunshine energy was like an instant 'smile' button. He was so genuine with his emotions and interests, he was a simp and made no apologies for it. He loved Fang so completely and unconditionally, he did whatever he needed to make sure that Fang felt safe and cared for. Tan really raised the bar when it came to clingy boyfriends that aren’t cringy, which is a hard thing to do.

[officialromaniantranslatiuni]

Everyone is talking about trad wives and I am just silent because trad wives are not a trend here but still a part of the norm.

[nonbinarycollector]

i just dont think king would ever fully switch to calling eda "mom". like he does sometimes but he still calls her eda too. and it means literally nothing about the closeness or legitimacy of their relationship he just had 8 formative years of calling her eda that only calling her mom feels suuuuper weird

[fabiansociety]

yakuza 6 is a much smaller game than yakuza 5, without the pervasive melancholy and the sprawling cast, and i'm not quite sure what i make of it at this point. i appreciate the tighter focus (even if i loved y5's picaresque), and particularly the ways the game is willing to really drill into the way kiryu is flailing as he settles into middle age, and how he's making the wrong choices as a result of it. the sidelining of haruka sucks; she's a character that is frequently ushered out into the wings for the endless second act of these games, but the way her agency is taken away in this game in particular feels faintly rancid. the fact that you learn that she's been the victim of some horrific violence in the same instant you learn that she's become sexually active is… not great. the series as a whole isn't terribly judgmental about women having sex—or, rather, it doesn't punish its women for being sexually active the way a lot of stories do—but it does have a bad habit of killing or harming its plot-bearing women, and the game using haruka's sexual activity as a proxy for her adulthood, and that adulthood meaning she's now available to be a victim of violence sucks. haruka's relationship with kiryu, separate from kiryu's relationship with haruka, has always been one of the series' strongest suits. haruka as a character is able to question him in a way other characters can't, because kiryu can't simply walk away from her, the way he does with adult women he gets close to, and he can't simply punch her into agreement, the way he does with the men in his life, and to have all that narrative tension resolved before the story even properly starts? it's a weaker story for it.

and the especially frustrating part is that haruka being awake and participating in the story doesn't do anything except improve things. the game can't function if kiryu is constantly saddled with haruto, so it has him hand his grandchild off to complete strangers repeatedly when he's in onomichi, and if haruka were awake, she could simply care for her own child while he goes off to try to find the father. she could be in onomichi with him, which would both streamline the bizarro logistical hoops the game hops through to park haruto somewhere and allow her to actively argue with kiryu about his fucked up decision to go back to jail. that decision—to functionally abandon his children for the sake of his own pride—is the real question at the heart of the story, and the game can only approach in obliquely, because it's silenced the only character who could make it more than subtext.

all that being said, though, the game itself is delightful? the substory writing remains world class, and the game's mood and tone and virtual tourism remain second to none. it's just frustrating that I'm something like 500 hours into this series and they still haven't figured out how to structure their A plots.

[lokissweater]

birds of a feather . ۫ ꣑ৎ .

{olympic figure skater!satoru gojo x olympic figure skater f!reader}

summary: you and satoru have known each other since childhood, two little birds navigating through life together as you shared one dream in common— to win gold at the olympics, you both a figure skating pair as you moved and performed and fell in love as the years went by, both balancing off a trembling tight rope and holding on to keep each other in place, a silent agreement that if you indulged and fell into the depths of the truth of what you were, you’d run the risk of losing your careers and each other, yours and satoru’s biggest fears. but you’re growing, and it’s getting harder to hold back… especially for satoru— that trembling tight rope on the verge of snapping in two.

warnings: MDNI. afab!reader, childhood best friends to lovers trope, cursing, DIABOLICAL ANGST BUT WITH HAPPY ENDING I PROMISE!, mentions of death and loss, mentions of injury and blood, FLUUUFFF, satoru loves loves loves you, SMUUUTT, unprotected p in v sex (wrap it y’all), creampie, pussy eating, dom satoru, pussy drunk satoru, DIRTY TALK, pet names, figure skating, the olympics, true love <3

word count: 22.3k (I KNOW PLEASE GIVE ME A CHANCE PLEASE—)

authors note: YYYOOOUUU GUUUYYSSS THIS ONE IS MY BABBBYYY AND IM CRYING NOW WRITING THIS LMFAOAOAO. i hope you all love it seriously i GLADLY worked day and night writing this and i’d do it all over again just to see y’all happy :) THANK YOU for your support it is UNREAL, and like always, I LOOVEEE YOUUU MWAAHHH <333

you first met satoru when you were six at the skating rink.

he was only a year older than you, both of your mothers coincidentally signing you up for the same youth ice skating lessons for beginners, meeting and chatting it up seeing as you and satoru were the youngest in age out of the rest of the parents there and their children, you both automatically put together by your coach and separated from the older kids to do warm ups.

and even though the age difference was only a year, satoru at first treated you like a little helpless tiny thing who needed assistance in everything— the cute pink ribbons in your hair doing you an injustice and further implementing the image of a little girl who had no clue of what was going on around her, thinking you were cutesy and he was determined to be your little knight in shining armor when the time came.

until he saw you skate.

what satoru didn’t know, was that you were a prodigy— related to one of the most famous ice skaters in olympic ice skating history, akira, as her talent was blessedly passed down to you through your fruitful system and the lucky processes of genetics— chosen as you barely even had to be taught, you catching everything right away by the coach without any sort of slip and fall… unlike satoru who was clumsily struggling to even glide through the ice without wobbling.

and little satoru was astonished by you and your talent, his first impression of you drastically changing by the end of the first lesson as he shakily slid across the ice over to where you were, patiently doing little turns on the ice while you waited for your mother to finish up talking to another lady (it was satoru’s mother).

“hi!” he had greeted you, a huge goofy smile on his face as you slowed down and looked at him, returning a shy smile of your own.

“hi.”

“i’m satoru!” he extended a hand, eyes shooting wide as he suddenly lost his balance and slipped forward, on the brink of face planting on the ice as his hands quickly flailed out and gripped the edge of the rink to save himself.

you giggled, tiny hands reaching and holding his arm steady as he tried to regain his balance.

“are you okay?” your shy voice asked, and he grinned through his wobbling.

“yeah! i’m okay! don’t worry!”

but he still couldn’t stabilize himself.

“maybe we should sit on the bench?” you suggested sweetly. “so you don’t fall…”

“okay!”

you gripped him as hard as you could (which really wasn’t a lot for a six year old) and slowly moved with him on the ice, supporting him until you were both out of the rink and seated on the bleachers.

“what’s your name?” he chirped, his hands clutching on the edge of the bench as he leaned forward and looked at you kindly, legs swinging.

“y—y/n.”

“nice!” he cheesed, looking at you. “i saw you skate. you’re really good!”

“t—thank you.” you mumbled, shy and alarmed that a boy was talking to you.

“when did you start skating?”

you looked at him confusedly. “um.. today?”

his eyes bulged.

“hah?! today?!”

you jumped at his outburst, cheeks pink as you quickly nodded.

“wowww!…” he gushed with stars in his eyes. “that’s great! i saw you doing turns and things. i can barely move on the ice… it’s slippery.”

“well—” you peeked up at him shyly. “my—my aunt taught me some stuff… but not a lot.”

“you have someone in your family that skates?” he asked excitedly with huge blue eyes. “how cool! hopefully i can catch up to you and at least move…”

“that’s okay...” you smiled. “i know you will.”

“really?!” he gushed again before leaning back, nodding his head cutely. “if you think so, then i know so!”

and you giggled at him, your timid wall slowly crumbling down at his bubbly and kind personality as he was a chatterbox and talked to you about anything that had to do with olympic ice skating— him knowing so much about it and nearly screaming his head off and panicking when he found out that your aunt was none other than akira, now knowing exactly why you were so good at skating in the first place.

satoru looked up to you. so much so that it was comical— seeking your approval over the following years during lessons and not even listening to the damn coach himself as he listened more to you, wanting you to teach him how to do bunny hops or backward crossovers and giving a big fat attitude to anyone else who tried to coach him, whining and snoring away until you and your little bows skated over to him to teach him.

and because of that you spent a lot of time with satoru in and out of lessons, even more than you ever spent with your own friends at school as you clung to him at all times— him cheering and encouraging you on when you were shy in certain situations, and you teaching him everything you could about skating and bringing him little bags of strawberry gummy puffs since he had the biggest sweet tooth you had ever seen, you both cemented and stubbornly attached to the hip with neither wanting to let go.

and when your mother’s planned a little playdate at the local outdoor ice skating rink on a chilly december day— an enormous christmas tree sitting tall and glorious by the rink with twinkling star-shaped fairy lights and jingle bells surrounding the plaza, you and satoru spinning each other around and dancing and giggling over the murmur of classic christmas songs, they saw the potential… an idea sparking in their heads amongst their cooing and picture taking.

you and satoru were both originally put into the ice skating world to train and be independent professional skaters, olympic athletes to be more specific when the time came.

but that concept quickly changed the second you met.

now— you and satoru were an olympic ice skating pair, the subject materializing when your mother’s pulled you out from those simple ice skating lessons (you both already way past getting the basics down since your skill combined with you teaching satoru had you both surpassing the class) and paying for a professional couples figure skating coach to get you guys started now and early.

and the both of you were over the moon, especially satoru, as he absolutely adored you and begged his mother literally every fucking day if he could go over to your house or over to the ice skating rink with you to dance, you doing the same and the two of you crying and wailing on the floor whenever times wouldn’t work out and plans fell through, your mother’s having to give in and drag you to each other’s houses so you would both stop crying.

when akira found out you were officially figure skating, she nearly drove into the side of a building speeding over to your house from being out of the country for so long competing.

“is it true?!” she burst through the doors, your mother rolling her eyes after being startled half to death over her bizarre behavior. “is my little niece gonna be a figure skater like me?!”

you gasped excitedly upon seeing her, getting up from your spot on the rug and running over to akira’s open arms, leaving your coloring book and crayons behind as she swung you around.

“she started when she was six you know that…” your mother grumbled, folding various kitchen towels.

“but you just told me now that she’s not independent!” akira countered, setting you down and holding you out at arms length, eyes wide and eager. “—but partner figure skating! like me!”

she shook you. “where is he?! your partner! is he here? is he your age? is he nice?”

you perked up and looked over to the kitchen. “oh mommy! satoru should come and meet—”

“his name is satoru? oh my goodness how cuteeee!” she cooed, pinching your cheeks. “is he handsome? do you like him? do you have a crush on him—”

your little cheeks blazed as your mother threw a kitchen towel at her.

“she’s eight aki! jesus christ.”

“love has no limits.” akira wiggled a finger, and you giggled.

your mother called satoru’s place soon after, his mother excitedly conversing over the other line about how the akira was finally back in town and how satoru was gonna lose his mind once he saw her— you knowing he was the biggest fan and sometimes told you facts during lessons that you didn’t even know about your own aunt.

and when they finally did arrive, satoru was stiff— frozen in place with tight arms at his sides by the living room as his alarmed big blue eyes looked at akira with a sickly pale face, you snickering behind him.

“hi satoru!” akira greeted, leaning down with her hands on her knees to look at him at eye level. “it’s nice to meet you! y/n tells me you like my skating?”

“u—uhuh.” he responded dumbly, and you slapped a hand over your mouth to stop yourself from laughing, knowing satoru would cry and whine about it later if he heard you.

“that’s great! i’m happy you skate too… and with my niece i should say!” she spoke kindly, ruffling his snowy colored hair up and standing upright, placing her hands on her hips and looking like a straight freaking superhero in satoru’s eyes. “you wanna compete in the olympics?”

“uh huh.”

a laughing breath hurled from your throat and your cheeks puffed up like a squirrel, clasped hands still over your mouth and face going red from how hard you were trying to keep it in.

“that’s what i like to hear.” she smiled, a shiny impressive one as satoru still stood there in a stuck daze.

“work hard okay? the both of you. so you can catch up to me someday, yeah?”

your hands slowly fell from your mouth then, eyes filled with admiration and determination as you both eagerly nodded, looking at each other hopefully.

“you think—” satoru stammered, looking at akira. “you think we can… win three gold medals like you?”

“oh absolutely!” she shrugged. “i don’t doubt it at all.”

you and satoru gushed, glittering little eyes as you stared up cutely at akira, her giving you both a silly grin.

“how long have they been doing partner work?” she asked your mother suddenly, watching the way you and satoru chattered then excitedly about the actual possibility of competing for the olympics someday.

“mmm, i wanna say for about a year and a half? maybe two?” she looked over at satoru’s mother, who nodded in agreement. “they’re with a couple’s figure skating coach right now.”

akira hummed and shifted her gaze back down between the two of you.

“i’m training them from now on.”

both mothers froze, eyes wide as they stared at her.

you and satoru hadn’t even realized what she said, still caught up in your little bubble of the olympics and metals and competitions until your mother caught your attention.

“did you hear?”

you shook your head. “hear what!”

“akira wants to coach you and satoru.”

his jaw dropped and he nearly passed out on the floor, you quickly grabbing his shoulders as he reeled over.

“are— are you sure?” your mother continued, looking at her sister now. “aren’t you busy? i thought you were only here for the weekend.”

she waved her off. “i need a break from skating for a little… at least until the next olympics.”

akira turned to you then and smiled warmly. “and i wanna coach my little niece and her new buddy! if that’s okay?”

“yesyesyesyes!—”

both you and satoru bounced up and down and cheered, arms up as you tackled and hung off of akira like a jungle gym, her laughing and smiling big at your enthusiasm.

akira was the most important figure in your life, right next to satoru as she became a mother figure to the both of you as well as your mentor.

and training with her was not easy— your age not an excuse at all whatsoever in her eyes to not learn proper figure skating moves and technique, saying it would only serve you right in the end if you started adapting your bodies to it now rather than later.

and like most things, akira was right. but even though practices were grueling and tough to the point where you had to drag satoru across the ice to get up, she always tried to make them fun in the end— cracking jokes and teaching you guys silly little tricks that you could do with each other on the ice that she figured out over her years of skating with her partner, taking you both out for ice cream frequently after and telling you of her travels competing around the world, the people she’d met, and the titles she’d won— all things that were you and satoru’s ultimate dream as you listened eagerly.

by the time you were twelve and satoru was thirteen, it was obvious you guys were meant to be olympic athletes together.

“you need to pick your leg a little further up on the spin, toru.”

he stuck his tongue out. “says who.”

“says me.” you poked his cheek. “and i’m pretty sure aki told you before she left too.”

“yes ma’am!” he nodded, gliding a bit further away from you on the ice before picking his momentum up and reaching you, him bending his knees and wrapping his arms around your torso as you both went into fast spins, one leg extended for the both of you as your arms gripped over his shoulders— practicing the routine akira had given you for your upcoming competition.

“yeah like that!” you smiled, spins gradually slowing down and satoru coming back up from his bend until you both stood still on the ice. “good job toru!”

he grinned and ruffled your hair. “thanks!”

“mhm!” you responded, turning and skating away to the edge of the rink to hide the blush that was rising in your cheeks.

“what?!” he whined. “where are you going? do i stink?”

“no!” you laughed, shaking your head. “just the usual sweat and B.O.”

“aw no!” he quickly skated to the edge of the rink and out before flying for his duffel bag. “i hate being a man i hate puberty this is ridiculous—”

“i’m kidding im kidding!” you called from across the ice, cackling when he stopped and whipped his head over, glaring at you. “you’re fine toru— not stinky.”

“well you’re stinky for putting me in distress how about that?” he huffed, an eventual smile playing at his lips as he put down his duffel bag and went inside the rink again.

akira was currently on her way to compete at the olympics for her fourth gold medal in partner figure skating, you and satoru having no doubt in your minds that she was going to absolutely clear everyone else there and get it, as she’s never gotten silver or bronze or anything lower than that.

“when do we fly to see aki again?” satoru called from across the ice, gliding to and fro in figure eights. “don’t say tomorrow morning because i haven’t started packing yet heh… oops.”

you giggled. “it is tomorrow morning, dummy.”

“no!” he stopped and shoved his hands in his hair. “i haven’t even started planning my outfits! oh i was gonna take so many pictures what am i supposed to do now—”

you laughed loudly and skated back over to him, hands wrung behind your back as you looked at him cheekily. “you’re silly toru. outfits for what? literally just show up.”

“it’s not everyday we leave the country y/n!” he whined. “i wanted to sport my best and look cool, dang it.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and lifted your hand, patting his head.

“i’ll show up in pajamas and you show up in yours, and we’ll call it a day. hm?”

he grinned.

“matching? or seperate? and what color? plaid?”

“toru!”

he laughed and skated past you, nudging your shoulder with his in the process. “i’m just messing with youuu, matching obviously!”

satoru came back around, reached up and straightened the ribbons in your hair, little white bows sitting pretty as a blush rose to his cheeks when he was done.

“wanna run it three more times and call it?” he suggested. “i wanna make sure i get what you told me down before we go.”

you smiled and quickly nodded, taking satoru’s extended hand and skating together to first position.

watching akira win gold in person for the first time in your life was an experience you’ll never forget.

and she did it fucking beautifully.

with every precise move, with every articulate angle you and satoru screamed and yelled like crazy people in front of the rink while waving around your countries tiny flags, cheering with fat tears rolling down your faces when she successfully landed each time, holding each other so tight with mushed up cheeks throughout her routine with her partner and still in anxiousness when the time came for revealing final scores.

no one could skate like her. absolutely no one as she speedily glided across the ice and spun, prepped herself for the hardest most impressive turns you had ever seen in your life, and performed a quadruple axel rotation in the air all on her own— things that have always earned her the highest scores for three successive olympic years.

and four now— because when akira and her partner stepped up on that podium, you and satoru had to basically be yanked back by your mothers with the way you both tried to jump over the edge of the rink to her, her standing there like a beacon of light on the first place podium, a gold medal hung rightfully around her neck with flowers in her arms as she smiled so so big and happily, her eyes not once leaving you and satoru.

eventually when the ceremony was over, amongst all of the buzz and the crowd roaring and picture taking— akira quickly skated over to the two of you and leaned on the edge of the rink.

“akiiii!” you both wailed and flung your arms around her neck, her giggling and hugging you both back as best as she possibly could despite the mass amount of bouquets in her hands.

“did i do okay?!” she yelled over the noise.

you both pulled back and looked at her like she was insane.

“did you do okay?!” you gawked.

“aki— you won a fucking gold medal!” satoru yelled.

“HAH!” she laughed loudly. “don’t say that word in front of your mommy satoru she’ll chop my head off and kill me!”

you both giggled uncontrollably.

akira leaned her head in then and you and satoru followed through, all three foreheads resting against each others.

“listen to me for a second.“ she started. “you guys are birds of a feather, okay? you need to stick together and fly together as one.”

she let you both go and dropped the bouquets she was holding on the icy floor before placing a hand on yours and satoru’s outer cheeks, bringing you in. “don’t fight. don’t separate. don’t leave each other. you need to keep each other and what you have safe.”

you both quickly nodded, tears funnily gathering at the corners of your eyes at what she was saying, and she smiled.

“yes partner figure skating is about chemistry and technicality, but it’s about love… and sometimes just that. without genuine love, nothing will click.” she let your cheeks go and grabbed her shiny gold medal, holding it up. “this will be yours. i promise you.”

akira put down her medal, wiping both yours and satoru’s wet cheeks. “birds of a feather. stick together. keep each other safe. do you understand?”

the two of you sniffled and nodded.

“and i need to stop cussing in front of you guys during practices, don’t i?!” she smiled warmly, and you and satoru shook your heads frantically.

“no keep doing it!—”

“it’s funny please!—”

ever since akira told you that, it became you and satoru’s thing.

before and after every competition, with every hello and every goodbye at the beginning and end of the day, throughout the hours randomly whenever you both felt like it, you’d lock pinkies and reiterate ‘birds of a feather’ before kissing your thumbs and locking your promise in place— another one of the many other ways you’d show that you loved each other.

but whether it was platonically or romantically remained unknown until you both hit high school.

perhaps it had always been romantically… that you weren’t exactly sure of. but the way you and satoru had been treating each other since you were literally the age of six, made the technicalities of what it was blurry and a little confusing— for you couldn’t even remember when it was that you started loving satoru.

maybe it was that very first day when he skated over to you, wobbly and clumsy with a cheesy smile.

and as if it wasn’t already confusing enough of what the two of you were, the way you acted made it ten times worse.

but you’d been that way since forever— embracing each other a little longer than you should, innocently kissing each others cheeks and heads and hands, calling each other pet names and being each other’s dates to every single school dance—

but it was all harmless. not a single bad thought behind it and doing it like a reflex.

it was like you both were line balancing across the thinnest tight rope known to mankind— flimsy and unsteady, always on the verge of toppling over and falling completely into the darkening depths of the truth of what you were, but catching each other just before you did to regain balance back on the rope.

neither of you said it, but if you and satoru ever dared to be anything more than friends, and if something were to happen where you had to break up— you’d lose your first love, your best friend, and your entire career all in one.

the consequences were too drastic— you both knew that.

and you didn’t want to break your promise… so you acted blind to it.

by the time you were seventeen and satoru was eighteen, akira started training you for the international skating union competition to earn a spot for the olympics.

well— she actually started when you were about fourteen, but as the years progressed, her coaching and critiques got increasingly more difficult and nitpicky as well as the moves she taught you, wanting you both to build endurance to it and perfect it so that by the time you reached the age requirement for the olympics— it would be easier to train for it and be formidable competitors against the other pairs.

you and satoru wanted to be olympians more than anything else in your lives, and akira knew just how important this was for the both of you— making it her absolute mission to help accomplish solely that as she saw herself through the two of you.

your dreams were just like hers, and she respected and nurtured the fact with everything that she had.

“up! aaand up! and take her— throw— land oh shit—”

just as you had landed a semi complex throw jump, you lost balance and landed right on your ass, sliding across the ice on your side.

it was rare when you fell, and you absolutely despised when you did.

“fuck!” satoru quickly skated over to you and knelt down. “are you okay?!”

“why can’t i land that man?” you whined, covering your eyes.

akira smoothly traveled over to you both.

“it’s okay! we just learned it today sweets like— right now… you’ll have it down in the next five minutes.” satoru smiled softly, carefully helping you up on your skates and checking you over.

“don’t overly punish yourself, y/n.” akira reached and pinched your cheek. “i love that you’ve always been so serious about your technique, but you have to leave room for error my love or else you’ll choke yourself out.”

satoru ran a soothing hand along your back and you smiled cutely up at him, his heart jittering so much from it that he had to quickly retract his arm.

you nodded, always taking satoru’s and akira’s words seriously like inscriptions to a stone wall. “okay!”

he grinned and kissed the side of your head before taking your hand and leading you to first position like always.

akira smirked.

“are you guys together yet!” she blurted from across the ice and you both choked as she skated over.

“are we— are we—” you stammered.

“what?” she breathed out, placing her hands on her hips. “are you at least in love?”

satoru’s blue eyes bulged open with a furious pink tint to both of your cheeks.

“aki!” you whined, embarrassed. “stop it—”

“have you guys at least gone on one date?”

satoru pouted. “no.”

“i’m—” you played with your fingers. “i’m going on one today—”

“you’re what?!” he whipped his head in your direction, eyebrows furrowed.

“yeah…” you looked at him. “i’ve never gone on one and some guy at school asked me so i— i just thought—”

you thought it’d do you some good, since the one you wanted you couldn’t really have.

“are you actually..?” satoru trailed off, an unfamiliar strike of something in his chest making him a little upset.

but he knew damn well what it was.

“but—” akira stared at you wide eyed, pointing at satoru. “but it’s— it’s supposed to be—”

“aki!” satoru quickly grabbed her arm and lowered it, eyes snapping to you next. “is it that one guy you told me about? from your english class?”

“uh huh.” you fidgeted. “he asked me again and i felt bad saying no so i— said yes…”

satoru swallowed, nodding.

“oh you big dummies!” akira groaned. “we’ll talk about this later or else i’m gonna go into fucking cardiac arrest from frustration—”

she skated off to the edge of the rink and out, leaning on it from the outside with her head dramatically hung.

you both got into starting position, but you faltered when you noticed satoru was oddly quiet and stiff.

“…toru?”

he blinked down at you. “huh?”

“you okay?”

“oh!— yeah.” he smiled weakly. “i’m fine baby.”

“you sure—”

“what time is your date?”

you gnawed at the inside of your cheek. “it’s a bit after this... i told him to just give me time to shower and get ready.”

“if he can’t accept you stinky then he’s not for you.” he shook his head in distaste. “he’s already failing in my eyes sweets absolutely flunking. maybe you should cancel it? yeah i say cancel it—”

you laughed, heart in your throat as your eyes gleamed up at him. “i can barely accept you stinky so i wouldn’t blame him—”

“hey!” he placed an exaggerated hand on his chest. “it’s not my fault i literally put my heart and soul out on the ice just for you to skate all over me—”

you gasped offendedly. “i don’t skate all over you—”

“do too!”

“do not!”

“do to—”

“you guys!” akira called. “you know i love it when you guys love on each other it makes me so happy and envision your wedding but right now we have to grind!”

you both froze up and snapped your heads in her direction with red faces, whining.

“aakkiii!—”

you practiced what you had of the routine a couple of more times, a few new moves and jumps added after each run until akira called it a day upon noticing you and satoru were practically sweating your asses off and messing up several times out of exhaustion.

“good job today you guys!” she smiled, patting you both on your shoulders. “i feel like the next time we meet we’ll have the choreography down... from there we just need to perfect it and you should be good for the next competish, okay?”

you both nodded and thanked her, sweet smiles on your faces as she reached up and pinched a side of both your cheeks.

“my little babies.” she cooed. “oh how you’ve grown! you guys were so little when we started now satoru is huge man jesus christ—”

she lifted her hand and reached up to measure satoru’s height from his forehead, her passing it over the top of her head and eyes widening at the huge gap.

he laughed and puffed up his chest. “i got big and strong too aki see?” he flexed an arm. “see? eh?”

“that you did!” she laughed brightly, ruffling up his hair. “the strongest.”

you giggled and skated over to the edge of the rink to pack up, internally panicking a little that you guys went overtime and it was almost time for your date.

“satoru..” akira whispered, looking over her shoulder to make sure you weren’t listening. “what’s going on? you still haven’t asked her out? i thought you said you were gonna do it.”

“no..” he mumbled. “but we can’t. and she knows that too so— so what am i supposed to do—”

she gawked. “do you not see what’s happening?! she’s gonna go on a date with someone else! off with this stupid fear you guys have already seriously.”

“we caan’tt aki.” he pushed sadly. “it’s too risky.”

“but it’s not though!” she threw her arms out. “you guys have known each other since practically birth i feel like if it wasn’t meant to be you would’ve separated by now!”

satoru gnawed at his bottom lip in thought, eyes trained to the way your bows moved in your hair as you swung your duffel bag over yourself, smiling softly once he realized you had kindly packed his things for him too as you sat on the bench and waited for him to take you home.

akira sighed.

“it’s not my place to tell you guys what to do… but love has no limits. you know that.”

he nodded, smiling weakly at her as they skated out of the rink and prepared to lock up, akira hugging you both goodbye with a family kiss to your cheeks and you separating ways with her for the day, but not before her reminding you guys of practice tomorrow and that she loved you over her shoulder.

satoru was dreading you going on your date as he drove— the both of you normally talking about random things like always but his mind unable to stray from the fact that you were actually giving some random dingbat a chance.

it was rare when either of you would talk to or date other people, never even as your heads have always been so focused on figure skating and competitions… but also on each other— taking care and loving one another that you never needed anybody else since you were everything to satoru and satoru to you, and you were both confident that absolutely no one could ever step up to that level.

so why were you going on a date?

but he shouldn’t be like this. he knew that. there was a silent agreement between the two of you to never fall off that thin tight rope and keep each other balanced. and you were allowed to see and date whoever you wanted— something that he probably should do as well to try and get over the fact that you’d never really be his.

satoru pulled up to your driveway and shifted his gear into park.

“thank you toru!” you smiled sweetly, leaning over and pressing a kiss to his cheek.

“you’re welcome.” he murmured. “can i— can i come in with you? and hang while you get ready?”

you quirked a brow. “i thought that’s what we were already doing silly.”

“okay well invite me woman!” you both got out of the car and walked up the steps to your front door. “you can’t just assume. what if i was busy? what if i also had a date? hm?”

you gave him a sly grin as you twisted in your keys to unlock the door. “do you?”

“… no.”

you giggled and pushed open the door, the both of you immediately clasping your hands over your mouths to keep your laughs in at the sight of your mother sprawled out on the couch dead asleep with drool coming out of her mouth, the tv softly playing in the background as you quietly shut the door, went up the stairs and into your room.

satoru sat on your desk chair lazily while you quickly hopped in the shower to get ready for your stupid date, staring at the framed photographs on your nightstand that all consisted of you and him over the years, smiling softly at his favorite— a picture of the two of you when you were babies, cheek to cheek with huge smiles at the park as you held ice cream cones in each of your hands, satoru more than sure akira was the one who took that picture.

the sound of your door clicking shut pulled him from his thoughts as you walked in, drying your pretty hair with your little fuzzy towel and throwing it in the hamper once you were done.

“oh! i was gonna show you! i got these ribbons the other day—” you got down on your knees and looked under your bed, sticking a hand in and pulling out a white box as you picked it up and shuffled with your knees closer to satoru— sitting back on your ankles.

“—i was running out of ribbon so i got these!” you held up the box and satoru took it, examining the various pastel colors with warm eyes. “some of them are polka dotted and i thought that was cute.”

“it is sweets!” he agreed.

satoru loved the ribbons in your hair, and you’d always wear them without fail because you knew just how much he did.

“i wanna start wearing bows too.” he wiggled his eyebrows, and you giggled.

“are you saying you wanna steal my brand toru?” you picked up a blue roll of ribbon from the box, a color that matched satoru’s eyes. “thought you were an honest man?”

he gasped. “i am an honest man! is it not obvious enough when i help you with your math homework? when i sacrifice my dignity and text you answers during your tests?”

you giggled and unrolled a strand of ribbon. “not when you eat all of my sweets that you actively dig through my room for—”

“but they’re always the strawberry gummy puffs!” he whined. “they make me a slut.”

you playfully rolled your eyes and stood, grabbing your little scissors and snipping off a piece of blue ribbon from the roll, stepping in front of satoru and leaning.

“watcha doing?” he asked, placing his hands on your waist.

“i’m putting a little bow in your hair before i leave!”

he hummed. “don’t think it’ll look as good on me as they do on you.”

you blushed, taking little pieces of white hair from the top of his head and wrapping the ribbon around, tying it the same way you’ve been doing for yourself since you were the age of nine.

you took a step back once you were finished and laughed. “you look cute toru!”

he raised a silly brow. “do i still look big and strong?”

“big and strong and pretty—”

“please don’t go.”

you stilled.

“what?”

satoru looked down, his bangs hiding his gorgeous eyes as he did.

“on your date.” he mumbled. “don’t go.”

you placed your hands softly on his shoulders, and his hold tightened a little around your waist.

“why?”

“because like i said if he doesn’t accept you stinky then he can’t have you when you smell like vanilla—”

“toru...” you spoke sternly, softly. “why not?”

you didn’t know why you were pushing it so much… maybe you were trying to see if you could get it out of him— if he had the will to actually say it unlike you…

and you hoped to god he would say it.

he slowly lifted his head and propped his chin up on your tummy, a sour expression on his face as he puckered his lips to the side like a little fish.

“dunno…” he muttered, his gaze flickering to yours and a sense of guilt swarming his chest at the uneasy look you had, his face relaxing as he sighed.

“sorry.” he smiled sheepishly, pulling back and letting go of your waist. “i’m kidding you have every right to—”

“m’not going.” you mumbled as you slid your hands away, looking down and playing with your fingers.

“huh?” he furrowed his brows. “no baby go you should go—”

“i don’t want to.”

you never did in the first place. you had foolishly thought that letting someone else in like this would be good for you and help you establish some sort of… barrier with satoru so you weren’t always suffering so fucking much.

but you were absolutely stupid for that.

all you’ve ever wanted was satoru, and doing something to pull you away from the type of relationship you had with him (whether platonic or romantic you had no freaking clue), was not only hurting you, but hurting him.

you didn’t need anyone else, truly. all you needed was satoru and his silly smile and dramatic antics— to spend time with just him and skate and eat dinner together after practices every night while watching horror movies, laughing so much over his screams that your stomach hurt while he whined about how you were making fun of him.

that’s all you needed… just satoru.

regardless if there was something more in question.

“you don’t want to?” he repeated softly. “why?”

“you know why, toru…”

you had said it so softly he barely caught it, but he did, his breath hitching in his throat.

that was the closest you two had ever gotten to acknowledging it.

you both were silent for a moment, the soft murmur of your tv downstairs filling the void as you looked at each other, tense and waiting for either of you to say something… anything.

but it was like the gravity of the foreseeable consequences settled onto your shoulders, and the pair of you could only sadly smile.

satoru stuck his pinky finger out towards you then.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured.

you breathed out a little through your nose and looped your pinky with his, nodding.

“birds of a feather.”

he kissed his thumb and you did the same before locking the promise.

for the rest of the night, you and satoru watched a bunch of shitty unknown movies to try and see who would break and laugh first— you feeling bad that you had to cancel so last minute on that guy from your english class, but not regretting it at all as you watched satoru scarf down two slices of pizza in one sitting and nearly throw up, you almost falling off the bed from laughing so much and him having to catch you midway down and pull you back up, saying that he was your hero and therefore you should give him your last stash of strawberry gummy puffs as a reward.

it was nearly two am when you and satoru finally settled down, both sprawled over each other on the bed as you stared up at the ceiling and talked about literally anything that came to your minds— stubbornly fighting off sleep for whatever unknown reason in the dark.

“you know this is aki’s last olympics right?” you spoke softly, your arm propped up as you watched the way satoru played with your fingers.

“yeah..” he replied. “i don’t really know how to feel about that.”

“me neither.” you shook your head. “but she said it came at a perfect time because she’d been wanting to retire for a while.”

and now it was yours and satoru’s turn to try and fill the legacy she had built.

he hummed, delicately interlacing your fingers together as the outline of it through the darkness made you blush and smile, the nooks between his digits blessedly made entirely just for you as your fingers slotted perfectly in each spot every time.

and satoru silently vowed for the millionth time in his life that he would always be your hero and keep you safe, a promise that was already tied into your birds of a feather contract, but needing to repeat it to himself anyways while he listened to the sound of your voice talk about your excitement for the upcoming olympics.

and my god were you excited, the both of you— looking forward to seeing akira gracefully take home her fifth fucking gold medal like she always did with no repercussions, seeing her fans and the mass amounts of support she got every year with bouquets and teddy bears and picture taking, but also looking forward to spending even more time with her— for not just practices… but for forever, even more than you already did now as you two were greedy and just loved akira.

you were looking forward to forever, the three of you.

until akira’s accident.

“oh my god i’m gonna throw up—”

satoru hurled over just as you both stepped onto the bleachers at the olympic arena, you laughing and placing supporting hands on his shoulders as you followed your mother and satoru’s to your designated place by the front.

“toru i told you you’d make yourself sick if you didn’t leave that damn dessert table alone.”

“there were cinnamon rolls baby. cinnamon rolls how on earth could i possibly just walk by a platter of cinnamon rolls—”

“okay!” you giggled, carefully leading him to sit down and ruffling his hair once you settled. “i get it! you love cinnamon rolls.”

“not as much as i love you—”

“yuck!” you stuck your tongue out and pushed him away by his cheek, him laughing loudly as he shooed your arm away and grinned.

“toru— this is the last time we’re gonna be sitting here in the bleachers watching aki.” you mentioned. “isn’t that fucking nuts?”

“now i’m gonna cry and throw up.”

“no!” you giggled and nudged his shoulder. “then you’ll make me cry.”

he smiled and leaned over to plant a quick kiss to your cheek, reaching up and fixing the bows in your hair before looking straight ahead, his sparkling blue eyes staring at the rink.

the crowd roared suddenly and a mix of big and tiny flags of several individual countries waved in the air as you and satoru jumped and screamed when akira glided out with her skates and glittery dress, a huge dazzling smile on her face as she waved at the crowd, her eyes scanning around quickly before they finally landed on you and satoru.

as if she wasn’t already smiling enough, it grew bigger at the sight of you both practically over the fucking rink calling her name, her blowing you both a kiss and connecting her hands together to form a little bird, fluttering it up funnily and making you laugh before spinning around and going to starting position with her partner.

“oh she’s gonna wipe again.” satoru breathed out. “wipe absolute buttcheeks.”

you cackled as you both watched her routine— incredibly fast paced and technical, filled with spins and throw jumps and lifts as she made it known that it was her last year and wanted to leave with a mark, you and satoru absolutely mesmerized by the choreography as a dramatic symphony of a classical piece drummed through your ears by the speakers.

each move was executed beautifully, you and satoru at the edge of your damn seats as akira’s partner lifted her by the arms to settle over his shoulders into a split formation— halfway through the routine already.

“maybe we could do a move like that for when we compete!” you suggested over the music. “i feel like technically it could—”

a hand flew over your mouth as you watched akira topple and slam to the ground upon coming down from her split lift, the spinning blade of her partner slicing through her abdomen as her head nastily collided with the ice— the crowd screaming in terror.

“oh my god!—” your chest moved frantically and you and satoru looked at each other, horrified faces as you watched the backside of her limp body on the ground surrounded by paramedics, her partner hovering over her in complete and absolute distress.

and there was so much blood.

blood that pooled all around her figure and stained her shimmering dress, blood that wouldn’t stop fucking spreading as a stretcher finally made it out on the ice.

“baby.” satoru’s voice shook. “why isn’t aki moving.”

“i— i don’t know—”

“aki!”

you both snapped out of your shocked daze and screamed over the rink and jumped, shoes slipping against the ice as the two of you tried to reach her through your panicked tears and calls, security speeding through and pulling you both back as you watched the paramedics lift her frail body onto the stretcher and away from the rink.

“that’s—” you sucked in a sharp sob. “that’s my aunt please let us go—”

“you need to stay out of the rink—”

“fuck you!”

satoru shoved security away and grabbed your arm, wishing you had your skates on as you both practically crawled over to where akira was being carried out, not giving a single shit about the way your mothers yelling demanded you back as security had to literally pull you and satoru by the ankles, further and further away from the scene and away from akira until the only thing left was her pool of sickly crimson blood in front of you, you and satoru wailing.

akira died at the hospital later that night.

the collision of her head against the ice brought such blunt force trauma that it caused irreversible brain damage, and with the amount of blood that she was already losing from the laceration of the blade— those elements combined didn’t give her a single fighting chance at survival, her fate sealed from the moment her body hit the ground.

it was completely unexpected… an incident like that had never happened in not just olympic partner figure skating, but figure skating competitions as a whole— the severity of the situation so grave that the complex move akira and her partner performed that led to her death was banned from the olympics moving forward.

and you and satoru were fucking ruined.

ruined and crying and clutching over her arms and hands at her hospital bedside, it scaringly cold and stiff and not her usual warmth at all as you couldn’t accept that this was your reality, that akira had left you both all alone after not only her initial familial love that you’d gotten since birth, but after nearly a decade of giggles and skating, her picking you both up from school and cussing up a storm because it made you and satoru laugh as kids, buying you ice cream and taking you out for beach days because she said the sun was good for your skin, harassing you and taking a million pictures of the two of you as she uttered over and over again that love had no limits— your dream of forever with her cruelly severed over the sport you all loved most.

yours and satoru’s mentor, friend, your fucking mother figure— was gone.

your aunt was gone. your own blood.

the entirety of that bullshit situation sort of settled into your minds by the time her funeral came— painfully holding back tears as your family members gave their speeches and final wishes before the lowering of her casket, you and satoru not saying a single word throughout the entire thing until it was just you and him standing in front of her grave site— your mothers waiting for you in their cars.

you both chose not to give speeches. you couldn’t.

“toru.” you sniffled, drowning in your tears as satoru strained to keep his back, lips pulled into a thin line.

“yes pretty.”

“this is so fucked.”

satoru breathed out a weak laugh and let a couple of tears slip down his cheeks, wiping them with the sleeve of his black suit as he grabbed your hand and interlaced your fingers, squeezing it.

“diabolically fucked.” he responded.

there really wasn’t much you could say at that moment in time, the two of you staring at the carvings on her tombstone as the wind softly blew over the petals of her flowers and letters, the day cloudy and cold and just fucked as you silently choked back sobs and whimpers, satoru lamely trying his best to stay strong for you— be your hero as he pulled you into his chest and squeezed you with everything that he had, nose buried in your hair as his tears fell and dampened a few strands.

“birds of a feather, toru.” you spoke softly, both of your frames shaking as the saying itself came from none other than akira.

he firmly nodded, lifting his head and kissing your cheek twice hard before looking at you.

“birds of a feather sweets.” his red teary eyes made your heart ache. “you can’t leave me too, okay?”

you scoffed and wiped your eyes, a sad smile on your face. “i could never… you know that.”

it didn’t really get easier from there, as everything in your lives reminded you of akira.

and though your mother was grieving the loss of her sister, she wanted to be left alone, and the only person that really understood the level of mourning you were on was satoru— him always there in the blink of an eye when you would call him in the middle of the night crying your eyes out while he held you, or when broken sobs wrecked through satoru’s trembling body as he cried into your chest while you held him and vice versa, endless amounts of ‘i miss her’s’ and ‘bring her back’s’ as you took turns depending on the day rolling on the floor unable to physically breathe over the loss as you tried to anchor each other back to normalcy, wondering how the world could be so cruel and continue spinning when you’d just lost half of your hearts.

but it did. it continued to spin and turn and carry on as you and satoru day by day tried to patch over what happened, be there for each other and heal each other as you graduated high school and caught up with satoru in college, still together and still in your stupid limbo of ‘is there something more’ except worse, and still inseparable three years later after akira’s passing.

it didn’t hurt any less, but the days definitely got easier… some harder than others as the time you spent with her became cherished distant memories, feeling eternally grateful for the way she raised and took care of you, for the work she had done, and for the legacy she had built for figure skating olympians around the world.

and because akira was so good and taught you both just as so, satoru and you had a little name of your own as you’ve been sweeping competitions since the age of thirteen, ninety eight percent unbeatable and competitive as other pairs always knew who you were the minute you stepped onto the ice, eager and curious to see if you would make it into the olympics when the time came just like your mentor had done.

some deemed it cheating— unfair due to the fact that you had a four-time gold medalist olympian training you since childhood, but that assumption quickly diminished after her passing when you both continued to wipe competitions and take trophies home purely based on your talent.

and you both agreed to continue your careers without a coach, a decision that didn’t even need to be thought twice over— and you were twenty and satoru twenty one when the time drew near to try for the olympics.

finally.

“my legs are gonna fall off and my balls are gonna droop to the icy floor if you don’t give me a kiss right now.”

“toru!” you giggled loudly, pushing his face away as he puckered up his lips and made obnoxious kissy noises, pulling you in by the waist. “toru focus we’re on a time crunch—”

“time crunch where?” he whined, stomping his blade down on the ice. “we’ve been at it for so long already i’m cold i’m thirsty and i think we should go to that cute christmas festival patch thing you told me aboouuttt!”

“right now?” you asked. “i don’t know toru… i had a set goal for us tonight and if we don’t get it—”

“oh you damn perfectionist.” he scowled, letting you go and quickly skating to starting position. “fine.”

you gave him a knowing smile and skated over to his dramatic sulking figure, kissing his cheek softly and wringing your arms around his neck, pulling him in.

“let’s run it three more times and then we can go to the festival, okay?”

he jumped up like a little kid, eyes hyper and wild. “really? honestly? truly?”

you nodded, gleaming up at him.

“is this a prank?”

“jesus toru you’re making me think i’m keeping you hostage here with how excited you are—”

“yiiippeeeee!—” he grabbed your upper thighs and lifted you before spinning on the ice, the both of you laughing as he roughly turned until he gradually came to a stop, big goofy smiles on your faces as he did so.

satoru loosened his hold as you slowly slid down against his body, faces close and lovesick as his half lidded eyes looked at you, lips stinging to plant directly over yours after so many years of hopeless pining and avoidance, still refusing to acknowledge the situation, but it glaringly obvious at this point.

“what?” you whispered, your eyes fixed on his lips as your blades touched the ice again.

he softly shook his head, blue eyes greedily drinking in your pretty face as he retracted a hand from your waist and brushed his palm over your hair adoringly, hand raising to cup your cheek gently.

was he about to…?

you swallowed, hands gripping his black t-shirt as you waited… anxious, hoping that he would do what you thought he was about to do.

but satoru squeezed his eyes shut in a grimace and quickly kissed the corner of your mouth before turning his back to you and skating to starting position— leaving you incredibly dumbfounded and disappointed.

satoru’s skin felt like it was on fucking fire as he looked at your stunning doe eyes blinking at him from across the rink, heart pulsing uncontrollably as you slowly skated to him and got into position, neither of you uttering a word about it as you ran the choreography three more times like you had agreed on.

you and satoru have had plenty of moments like that… but lately?

it’s been borderline dangerous with how close you’ve gotten to breaking your unspoken rule.

by the end of practice you and satoru excitedly packed up for the christmas festival, more or less stumbling out of the doors of the rink and locking up before throwing your things in satoru’s car and speeding off to the main plaza, cheesy dorky smiles on your faces as you babbled on about all of the things you were gonna do once you got there.

“the s’mores stand! the s’mores stand!” satoru whipped his head comically back and forth between you and the snowy road. “we have to go there and get five nothing less and maybe more—”

“wait! i wanna get some of that hot chocolate we got last year!” you quickly reached and gripped his shoulder. “the one with the chocolate bits in it! and the whipped cream! and the drizzle—”

“oh fuck yeah how could i forget?” satoru made a turn, the shining glimmering lights of the festival and christmas trees coming into view and riling you both up in pure exhilaration. “i gulped down like four cups of those and then threw up in a bush.”

you laughed loudly and shook your head. “i forgot about thaaaattt! toru you always shove shit in your mouth and throw up we have got to work on that—”

“no we don’t!” he cheesed, reaching over and patting over your hair— the smooth ribbon of your thin bows sliding underneath his palm. “i love sweets even if they hurt me. what doesn’t kill you makes you stronger. where there is no struggle there is no strength—”

“the only strength i see is a man hunched over puking his guts out.”

“hey!” he pouted, pulling into the lot before parking and turning off the ignition, the both of you hopping out of the car and locking it as you walked towards the main entrance. “and i’ll do it again so what.”

you giggled and interlocked your fingers with satoru’s. “silly silly.”

the festival was lively— huge decorated christmas trees everywhere you went as twinkling fairy lights adorned every corner and direction of the lots premises, several open stands that continuously wafted chocolate and cinnamon and vanilla throughout the entire night that had satoru practically floating through the air following the scent, kids giggling and running around as the soft familiar tunes of christmas music hummed in the background.

“what do you want for christmas, sweets?” satoru asked while chowing down a giant s’more.

“a kiss!” you quipped, giving him a cute silly look as you blew a bit of air over your steaming hot chocolate.

he stopped chewing.

“really?” satoru spoke with his mouthful. “i can literally give that to you right now c’mere—”

“no toru!” your cheeks buzzed a vibrant pink, completely flustered. “you’re supposed to say a big fat no!”

“now why the fuck would i do that...” he grumbled, shoulders slumping from disappointment as he took another big bite of his dessert.

you giggled, looking at him apologetically before standing on your tippy toes and licking a bit of melted chocolate from the corner of his mouth.

and he blinked at you, dumb and still as his cheeks copied the same exact shade as yours.

my god.

you were about to turn him into a freak.

“okay now you have to kiss me.”

“why?!” you laughed. “you had chocolate on your face! i was helping you out.”

“yeah right you little minx.” he scarfed down the last bit of his s’more and threw his little paper tray in the trash can behind him, putting his hands together and shaking off excess crumbs. “that’s actually the most torturous thing you have ever done to me.”

“dramatic!” you exclaimed, laughs escaping you and increasing as you watched satoru’s flustered face pout and glare at you.

you breathed in deeply and settled down, standing up straight as you took a tiny sip of your hot chocolate and smiled. “now i feel bad.”

“you should.”

“can you forgive me?”

“not unless you kiss me.”

“toru!”

“what?!” he pushed. “baby it’s only fair! really! just once and that’s it. a harmless peck nothing more we aren’t doing anything crazier.”

you gnawed at your bottom lip in thought.

technically he was right… it was just one little peck, entirely harmless and cute and wouldn’t have you both falling off of that thin tight rope you guys were still balancing off of.

this would only shake it a little… but then you’d be fine! right?

you were too far gone in the considerations of his proposal as you looked at his absolutely breathtaking blue eyes and face, somehow looking even more angelic as his pinky cold cheeks and nose and scarf covered neck did nothing but make you fall deeper in love with him than you already were.

how someone could look as good as satoru was beyond you.

“just—” you peered up at him. “just one peck okay?”

his eyes widened.

holy shit.

“yes!” he breathed out. “yes yes just one.”

“toru.” you spoke sternly. “i’m serious.”

he frantically nodded, arms already snaking around your waist and bringing you in.

you both couldn’t believe it.

you were about to have your very first kiss.

the two of you leaned in then— softly, timidly, afraid as satoru’s chocolate breath fanned against your nostrils and filled your lungs, lips coming closer and closer until they met in a simple, solid, tiny harmless peck.

satoru felt like his veins were about to pop and explode at the feeling of your delicate soft lips finally on his, the feeling actually fucking unreal as his fingertips went numb and his body tingled all over.

but it quickly became clear that it was not just one harmless peck.

because when it was supposed to be the time for you both to pull away, you and satoru only opened your mouths and kissed deeper— eyelids blissfully closed as your lips smacked so slowly and tenderly, the two of you actively relishing in the moment and just drinking each other’s mouths in as they moved and shifted, deep breaths through your noses as you daze-fully made out with the faint fuzzy sound of jingle bells and christmas music growing increasingly distant.

you tasted so sweet. just like he’d imagined.

but the moment came to and end when you both snapped your eyelids open in realization and released lips, pupils frantic and wide as you searched each other’s eyes for any sign of anger since you both had slipped up and did way more than just a peck.

but there was nothing. obviously there was nothing like that as your shoulders relaxed simultaneously and bashful smiles crossed your faces.

“you taste like chocolate.” he grinned.

you bit your bottom lip in a smile. “so do you.”

“twins.”

“uh huh.”

“i love you.”

you stilled.

you’ve told each other that thousands of times for years, since childhood.

you’ve always said you loved each other and have both known it was laced with those unspoken feelings you had, and you accepted that for as long as you could remember.

but somehow… in someway… it just felt different this time around. profound. more serious.

“i love you.” you responded.

satoru smiled softly and leaned his forehead against yours, basking in each others authentic infatuation for a moment before pulling away.

“can i get another s’more—”

“no!”

satoru ended up getting his second s’more, and you surprisingly ended up partaking in satoru activities and downed three fucking cups of that hot chocolate you loved so much, your tummy full and about to literally burst, but not really giving a shit as you and him were having so much freaking fun— buying little christmas trinkets from the santa shop and building tiny snowmen in the snowy play area filled with a bunch of kids (satoru literally making a tiny dick for one of the snowman and you immediately destroying it and wacking him), even skating in the rink but purely just for enjoyment and not a single thought of what you do professionally crossing your minds.

you stayed there until it was nearly closing time, money absolutely spent from all the things you bought, but your souls happy and warm as you happily walked to the car so satoru could take you home.

on the drive there, you showcased all of the trinkets you both had bought, a particular one catching your eye that you remembered you hadn’t shown satoru yet.

“oh! i got this one—” you dug your hand in the white plastic bag and pulled out a little snow angel, beautiful and glossy as the angels face blushed and smiled. “at the santa shop!”

“it’s cute baby!” he smiled. “for you?”

you shook your head. “i got it for aki. for the next time we visit her.”

his heart softened, nodding.

you and satoru tried your best to visit her grave as often as you possibly could, sometimes nearing four times a week to pay your respects and chat with her for a little while, filling her in a bit on your lives to bring back the feeling of what it was like to just talk to her in any way you could, like you had the fortune of doing once before.

“it kinda looks like her.. doesn’t it?” he questioned, pointing to the figure.

“it does right!” you expressed. “that’s why i got it… it reminded me of her.”

“she’ll love it.” he grinned, gently running the pad of his finger against your cold cheek before turning his attention back to the road.

you and satoru didn’t mention the kiss again as you were funnily still in shock over it, but the butterflies in your stomachs and the sole memory of it did more than enough as you climbed into bed with an already snoring satoru, him sleeping over for the night (when was he not) as you nudged your way under his arm and cuddled yourself in his chest, his slumbered state pulling you in like muscle memory.

you both only had two more practices left before the international skating union competition. once there, you and satoru had to land a spot in the top three chosen by the national olympic committee to earn an official spot in competing for the olympics, a task that was already vigorous and exhausting and nerve wracking, but one you both were more than ready for.

general admittance to competing in the olympics was essentially fourteen years in the making, one that wouldn’t have been possible in the first place if it wasn’t for akira.

“i think we should add a spin to this lasso lift.” you suggested, you and satoru taking a break from running the routine and standing by the bleachers during practice— watching a recently recorded take of your choreography to point out mistakes that flew under your radars.

“a spin?” he asked. “how sweets.”

“so when you lasso me around into the lift—” you rewinded the video and pointed. “since you’re holding me up over your head and we’re balancing with our hands, i say you maybe push me up to kind of like— propel me to do a triple rotation spin back down.”

“and then from there i catch you?”

“yeah!” you nodded. “and we’re traveling across the ice.”

satoru pursed his lips. “that’s kind of hard… you sure?”

“we’ve done worse toru.” you laughed. “i feel like this would give us more points.”

“oh it definitely would.” he nodded. “okay baby.”

“yay!” you cheered. “let’s practice the lift and propel on the mats first because if not i’m gonna eat shit.”

satoru laughed and sat down on the bleachers with you, quickly taking off his skates before standing and kneeling in front of you, untying your laces and slipping your skates off for you as you cutely smiled, him feeling like your little hero and knight in shining armor even if it was for something so minuscule.

he loved doing things for you.

in the middle of you and satoru practicing the move on the mats, your mother came in through the front doors of the ice rink.

“hi!” she greeted, holding up two wide rectangular boxes. “your costumes came in!”

“oh thank god!” you breathed out, satoru setting you down on your feet before you both ran to see. “i thought they weren’t gonna come in on time!”

“are they cool?!” satoru tumbled out. “do they scream please let me in the olympics?!”

you snorted and shoved his shoulder playfully as you unwrapped your boxes, your eyes shining in delight at the sight of your rhinestoned pale baby blue dress, a shade you purposefully picked out as it matched the color of satoru’s eyes— you lifting it with your fingertips from the box and gushing.

you turned it around and held it up against your frame as satoru pulled his top out— a white, tight long sleeved low cut v-neck button up that you already knew was gonna hug his yummy biceps so good, the thought of it making you bite the inside of your cheek as he checked over his black slacks.

your mother clasped her hands together, holding it to her mouth as her eyes gleamed over the two of you.

“i can’t believe it’s happening now.” she spoke softly, you and satoru diverting your attention to her and smiling. “for so long it was always just a distant thing you know? but now it’s here. actually.”

“fuck i know right.” you responded.

“language, y/n.”

“but i’m twenty!” you whined, pouting as satoru snickered behind you.

your mother rolled her eyes and cupped yours and satoru’s chins under her hands.

“good luck next week, alright? i know you guys will sweep.” she pushed. “make aki proud.”

the smiles on your faces grew, nodding as she squeezed your chins and released.

“oh! satoru—” your mother picked up her jacket and swung her purse over her shoulder. “your mom won’t be home for the night her trip got extended until tomorrow… you can sleep over at our house if you want so you’re not over there alone? or y/n can stay with you?”

“oh okay!” he spoke kindly. “thank you for letting me know!”

she smiled and nodded, hugging you both goodbye before leaving the rink.

your head whipped in his direction.

“toru if i sleep over at your house we can watch horror movies and actually scream as loud as we want without worrying about waking anybody up.”

his eyes bulged open. “oh my god you’re right! dibs i get to choose—”

“fuck!—”

by the end of practice you and satoru mastered the addition you added into the lasso lift, performing it beautifully on the ice over and over again until it was like simple reflex, calling it a day after a while and packing your things up to drive to satoru’s house.

you both took turns stepping in the shower to get rid of the sticky sweat that lingered on your skin, changing into comfy pajamas after as you tiredly settled in satoru’s big comfy bed— him flicking through his selection of horror movies and debating which one to pick.

“do you wanna watch something gory or just horror.”

“gory!” you perked up. “i need to work on not being so queasy.”

“but you seem fine when i throw up?”

“that’s because i’m used to it.” you laughed, head resting on his shoulder as he picked a movie and threw his remote somewhere across the bed, his arm coming to wrap around your tummy and pull you in.

it wasn’t like the selection mattered anyways, because fifteen minutes into the movie you were already falling asleep, hand resting on satoru’s torso as he continued to watch it— for some reason still wide awake even after skating for hours.

your sleepy sudden movements from your hand made him weirdly stiffen and relax every single time, your brows furrowing at the feeling and eyes fluttering open when he wouldn’t stop doing it.

“toru… are you still ticklish?” you mumbled sleepily.

he stiffened again.

“no.” he answered softly. “why..?”

you lazily grinned.

“youuu suureee?”

terror struck him as he sensed exactly what the fuck you were about to do.

“please spare me please spare me—”

you jumped on him and tickled his entire upper body, satoru laughing and gasping as he smacked your hands away and twisted and turned, his strong grip making it hard for you to tickle him at one point as you stubbornly swung a leg over his waist and settled over his lap, attacking him while he yelped and screamed.

“baby!” he gasped. “baby please! have some mercy is this how much i mean to you?!”

you giggled and finally stopped, hands retracting as you settled them on your hips. “that’s what you get for lying to me.”

“i was lying for my safety.”

“uh huh.”

you both grinned, satoru’s eyes occasionally flickering down to you straddling his lap with your pretty plushy thighs and blushing, trying to keep his gaze on yours to refrain himself from doing something a little too mental and weird.

but it was too fucking late, because it took no time at all for the blood to rush to his pathetic dick and harden.

surprisingly though, you were the one that was mental— the feeling of his cock against your clit undeniable as the uncomfortable shifts of satoru’s waist only stimulated it against your little nub and made you bite down hard on your bottom lip, shaky breaths leaving your mouth as it was getting harder and harder for you to restrain yourself from satoru’s godlike existence.

and your body was just not listening as you timidly rolled your hips over his crotch— your short shorts criminally thin as you felt just how big satoru’s length was, mouth watering as your palms timidly settled over his chest for stability, grinding on his cock harder.

satoru’s eyes were blown out as he watched you do something so— so lewd, his mind wandering if you were fully and properly there as something like this was absolutely breaking your unspoken rule, and you were more strict about it than he was.

but he didn’t want you to stop. god no.

at this point, you and satoru were off that metaphorical tight rope and hanging on by two hands— having both failed at keeping each other balanced as you rolled and rolled your hips deliciously on his dick, his chest quickly rising and falling at the feeling of your warm pussy over his groin and at the sight of you using him to get yourself off.

your little needy mewls made his hands tremble as he threw his head back on the pillow, eyes pathetically fucked out over something so simple.

“fuck me..” satoru groaned, hands coming up to rub over his face as his hips lifted to meet your grinding.

him doing that broke you out of your haze and you stiffened, satoru taking his hands away from his face with pinched brows at the sudden halt.

what happened?

“okay!” you laughed nervously, an alarmed expression as you swung your leg off of his lap and scrambled under the covers, pulling it completely over you as you shamefully looked anywhere and everywhere but satoru.

but he was out of it.

undoubtedly out of it now that you did what you did… wanting more, wanting all of you as he snatched the covers off of your frame and you squeaking as a result.

“why’d you stop.” he whispered, thumb raising to trace your bottom lip.

“i don’t— i don’t know what you’re talking about—”

“yes you do—”

“absolutely not—”

“i want you.” he cut you off. “i want you bad and i know you want me too so let’s just— let’s just do this once, okay? once please just to see what it’s like and it’ll never happen again.”

your eyes remained wide as you looked at his desperate frantic ones, his hands already kneading at your waist and thighs.

he was entrancing you into his proposal again, exactly the same way as when you both kissed for the first time at the festival as he leaned down and nibbled at your jaw, slotting himself in between your legs.

“do— do what?”

“fuck.” he mumbled, rolling his hips down on your pussy rough and you gasping at the sensation of his big cock against your clit again.

you whimpered as he rutted into you, hands flying to squeeze his biceps as his wet mouth moved down to your neck, licking and gnawing as he waited for your response.

“but isn’t that—” you stifled a moan. “isn’t that too far toru?—”

“please baby please.” he picked his head up and looked at you. “just once i swear once so we see what it’s like and get it out of our systems and never do it again. i promise.”

he needs to kiss you right fucking now.

your eyes fluttered closed as he continued to hump you, licking your lips as you weakly tried to look into his eyes.

“you swear?” you breathed out. “swear it just once and that’s it—”

“i swear i swear i swear—”

“okay then fuck me toru please—”

satoru nearly cried as he ripped himself away from you to frantically pull off his shirt and pants, him slapping your hands away when you tried to take off your own clothes as he wanted to do it himself— lifting your shirt over your head and downright tearing your shorts in half as he flung them down and across the room, your little pink bra and panties set actually turning him into a complete mess as he hovered back over you and shoved his tongue in your mouth.

you still tasted just as sweet as he remembered.

“been dreaming of—” mmpf— “kissing you since you let me, sweets.”

“yeah?” your lips moved sloppily with his as you snuck a hand in your panties and dipped your fingers in your pussy, collecting your arousal. “you missed me toru?”

“uh huh.” he breathed hotly against your lips, hand coming to slide underneath your bra to cup your bare tit. “every fucking night i’d jerk my dick dry thinking about it.”

his words made your clit twitch as you pushed him off your lips.

“open your mouth.”

satoru did as told without a peep and opened it with his tongue out, your hands coming out from your panties as you reached up and slipped your fingers in his mouth, his lips closing in and sucking everything you had to give him as he salvaged up your arousal.

“fuck—” he released your fingers. “is this from your pussy baby?”

“mhm.” you moaned.

your arousal was even sweeter.

“my god—” he grabbed your wrist and licked a long stripe up your palm. “you dirty fucking thing m’gonna have to taste for myself and see.”

you gasped. “what?”

satoru sat up and pulled your wet panties down your legs, biting down on his tongue hard at the sight of your angelic bare cunt before him, slick and shiny and pretty as you unclasped your bra and spread your legs for him— eager and ready and not a single other thought in your brain besides the one that was screaming for satoru to stick his dick inside you.

“toruuuu!” you whined. “quit staring and fuck me.”

his cock pulsed.

“patience sweets, i wanna taste you first.”

you expected satoru to just lower himself down and shove his head in between your thighs, but you were dead fucking wrong as he stood, grabbed your waist and yanked you high up, sitting you on his shoulders as you squealed and gripped his hair.

“wait toru isn’t this uncomfortable i—”

he scoffed. “fuck no. i’ve been lifting you my whole life baby this is nothing.”

your speech lodged itself in your throat as you felt his tongue lap at your folds and clit, slobbering and filthy as he ate and scarfed you down just like his usual daily sweets, you by far his absolute favorite as he slurped your little pussy up and made you squeal and moan.

satoru walked over to the wall and leaned you up against it, taking your thighs off of his shoulders and placing his hands underneath as he propped you up and spread your legs wider, your jaw dropping at his slimy tongue flicking and him slabbering his mouth side to side rapidly until your legs shook and you saw stars.

“toru—”

he grunted, tongue prodding at your hole and you jumping.

“i think— i think i’m gonna cum and i—” pant “i don’t wanna—”

satoru separated his mouth from your pussy with a squelch and looked up, smiling big.

“too bad!”

“but—”

he spit on your cunt and you gasped.

“i said too bad.”

he dipped back in and fully devoured you as you mewled, messier as he slushed his tongue all over and you’d never experienced something like this, something that felt so fucking good as you started cumming all over his face in record speed regardless of how hard you were trying to hold back.

“yummy.”

he let go and you dropped down as he quickly caught you, turning and throwing you on his bed as he climbed over you— wrapping a hand around his cock and jerking as he kissed and swallowed your lips up again.

“you want me to make love to you or fuck you?” he slopped against your mouth before pulling back, yours and his eyes fluttering open to look at each other.

your legs were still shaking by the eat out he gave you seconds before, finding it hard to get your words together as his handsome deluded face stared at you.

“i— um—”

he placed his lips next to your ear.

“you want me to fuck you like my wife or fuck you like a little slut? or both?”

“both toru please—”

he grinned, coming back up as he parted your legs further open and lined his leaky tip with your hole.

“i can do both!”

satoru pushed himself in and you choked, hands clasping over your mouth as you felt him bully his big cock through and leave you a blabbering crying mess under him— his chest heaving at the warmth and softness and stickiness of your cute gummy walls, his years of imagining and theorizing how you’d feel wrapped around his dick all completely debunking themselves at the real feeling as you whimpered and clenched your hole.

“jesus christ—” he shivered, swallowing thickly as his trembling fingers settled on your waist, him slowly reeling his hips back before pumping in. “you’re— you’re warm.”

you dropped your hands and wiped your cheeks as you hiccuped, the feeling of his dick sliding in and out of your walls incandescently euphoric as you embarrassingly already felt yourself wanting to cum again when he had just stuck his dick inside of you— you wanting to ride out this moment for a bit longer and not finish so quickly like you had done on his mouth.

“am i being too mean pretty?” he huffed, thrusts now quick and curt as he gripped your bouncing tits and pinched your perking nipples, the sight of your little tears shamefully turning him on.

you frantically shook your head and tried to clear your brain. “n—no!—”

“good.” he smiled, a little crazed as he let go of your boobs, placed his hands on the backside of your thighs and pushed your knees up to your chest, picking up speed as you squealed and whimpered, utterly taken aback by how rough satoru was being considering the fact that he was such a goofy and kind and loving person on the daily.

oh… what years worth of pent up sexual frustration can do to a man.

satoru whined as you milked his dick, wheezing as he hammered his hips up and slapped against your skin, your body jolting and bouncing uncontrollably as his bed squeaked loud and obnoxiously.

thank god his mother wasn’t home.

“i’ve wanted this i’ve wanted this i’ve wanted this—” satoru babbled, his critical thinking out the fucking window as he just tumbled out totally random but honest confessions as your ears eagerly drank up every word and made your hole tighten.

“yeah?” pant “f—for how long baby?”

“for so long—” he whined loudly, fucking you faster as your mouth hung open and you gripped his wrists for support. “you’re everything i’ve ever w—wanted—”

“i— i’ve only ever wanted you toru— fuck! you’re big.“ you moaned, loving the way a huge deranged smile spread across his face as his hips pistoned into you and his hands pinned you down.

“cum on my dick baby please cum on my dick i want it i want it—”

your toes curled and you squealed, vision flashing white as you let out a high pitched scream at the intense buzzing feeling, your bodies hot and sticky and wet as satoru leaned over and shoved his lips in your ear.

“can i— can i cum inside?” he choked through gritted teeth as he came close to spilling his seed. “please i wanna cum inside—”

“but m’not on the pill—”

“please please baby i beg you—” hah! “i don’t wanna cum anywhere else—”

your eyes fluttered shut at his words and you quickly nodded, his hand cupping your face as he thrusted in one last time and pumped his cum entirely inside you without an ounce of hesitation for the consequences, his horny mind actually crazed and solidifying that there was no fucking way in hell he was gonna accept just friends from this point forward.

what a stupid thought.

“mmm…” you slowly moved your hips a little, feeling his cum all inside your ravished walls as you licked your lips. “your cum feels hot toru.”

not even warm, hot as it slushed and moved inside you with every movement you made, some of it dribbling and coating your outer folds as you bit your bottom lip into a smile and craned your head up to his neck, nibbling and giving satoru tiny kitten licks as he trembled and struggled to stay afloat and not give out his upper arm strength— trying to prevent himself from squishing you.

satoru pressed a soft tender kiss to your cheek then before sitting up and delicately sliding his dick out, running a soothing hand over your tummy as he did so and giving you a lazy smile.

he suddenly raised his pinky to you.

“birds of a feather?” he murmured, other hand running from your stomach over to your thighs now as he just lovingly felt you up, you smiling with rosy cheeks as you linked your little pinky with his.

“birds of a feather.”

you both kissed your thumbs and locked your promise, deciding then that you should probably shower once more before getting into bed to officially sleep— but deciding to shower together as you softly and steamily made out under the misty hot running water, body and mind relaxed as you just swallowed in the ambience of each other, you both not only holding on to your metaphorical tight rope with one hand now, but it actually on the verge of snapping as a whole and sending you both free falling.

and for the next couple of days, you and satoru were feral.

years and years of doing fucking nothing with pure restraint and fantasizing did a number on you both as any chance you got you were making out on your bed, his bed, and even in satoru’s car after your lectures— your hand teasingly going lower and lower until you’d shove a hand in his pants to pull his dick out and pump, your body leaning across the console and mouth going down to bob and suck as he moaned and pulled your hair into a makeshift ponytail to guide you and your pretty bows and fuck your mouth just to hear the sounds of you choking, eyes from time to time frantically looking around to see if no one was around as you blowed him.

and you did that basically all of the time for the next three days until the final practice just before the international skating union competition, satoru physically unable to leave you alone and unscathed as he constantly pinned you down to eat your pussy or suckle on your soft tits, his hand tightly clasped over your mouth in your room when your moans would get too loud as he fingered you, his long fingers squelching and abusing your cunt until you were finishing all over his hands again and again.

but you two having actual sex didn’t happen again apart from that night— satoru a man of his word since he promised you would only do it once… unfortunately. but that didn’t mean you couldn’t do other things, right?

except by the final practice, satoru was absolutely fucked off at the fact that neither of you had brought up the potentiality of being more than just friends, especially after doing all of those lewd acts.

he was so sick of it.

and so were you, quite frankly, but instead of being completely over it like satoru, you were afraid… afraid of what could happen and the possibility of losing him if you both indulged, if you let yourselves put your freaking careers on the line.

and satoru was the one person you couldn’t bear to lose. not ever.

“we look good sweets!” satoru cheesed, rotating around in the ice rinks dressing room mirrors as you had your costumes on for dress rehearsal and refinements, both of you glittering and shiny and looking like a professional ice skating pair as you examined yourself, readjusting your straps and hugging your torso.

“cold.” you shivered. “maybe i should’ve had it as a long sleeve… shit.”

he laughed and placed his hands on your arms, rubbing up and down quickly to create frictional heat as you smiled at him gratefully. “nah, it’s cute like this! you’ll warm up once we run it a few times on the ice.”

you nodded, the both of you walking out of the dressing room and to the rink, skillfully putting on your skates before pushing yourself on the ice and gliding across.

“can you show me the uh—” satoru looked to the side in thought once he was on the ice in front of you. “the part where we skate in unison and have our arms up in an L? it’s in the chorus of our music—”

“oh!” you nodded and skated a bit away from him to demonstrate.

“i just wanna see if my form matches yours and we look clean.” he smiled. “and then show me the triple axel after that.”

you gave him a cute thumbs up and pushed yourself off, gliding gracefully and smoothly across the ice as satoru was supposed to be watching you to try and fix his form, but finding himself transfixed once again by the way you seamlessly skated with no sense of struggling effort— arms poised and flowy as your dress moved and fluttered with every twist and turn until you gradually propelled yourself up into the triple axel and landed correctly without a slip or wobble.

the level of difficulty and technicality you skated reminded him of akira— but your style, your movement, and the way you carried yourself was entirely your own.

you made figure skating look beautiful.

you were beautiful.

you slowed down on the ice and skated over to satoru.

“were you able to see? did you match me?—”

“you skate just like her.” satoru spoke softly, and you faltered.

he didn’t need to clarify who he was talking about, as you always knew.

“you’re just saying that.” you pursed your lips to keep yourself from smiling, or crying, you didn’t know.

but a compliment like that meant the absolute world to you.

“i’m not.” he shrugged, skating over to you and taking your hands as he glided with you to starting position. “you always have baby. and i know that’s what you’ve always wanted. i’m sorry i don’t say it enough.”

your eyes softened. “toru that’s not something to be sorry about at all…”

satoru was so kind.

you both skated together and ran the choreography a couple of times, spinning simultaneously and satoru lifting you again and again throughout the routine and still performing your lasso spinning lift successfully, arms around his shoulders and faces close as the wind whipped through both of your costumes and hair from traveling across the ice at such a speed before coming to a sudden choreographed halt at the end of your number.

you had slid down satoru’s body to plant your blades back on the ice when he had enough.

“please stick your tongue in my mouth.”

you choked on your spit and slapped a hand over your mouth.

“toru no! absolutely not we can’t anymore okay—”

“what are we.”

you froze.

“huh?”

“what are we.” he repeated, eyes dead locked on yours and hard. “are we together? are we not? are we friends? what are we—”

“we’re— we’re friends toru—”

“oh fuck no.” he let you go and created a little bit of space between you. “don’t give me that shit we’re not friends.”

“w—well we can’t—”

“i’m your man.” he stated firmly. “i’m your man i’ve been your man for years and i’m tired of avoiding this sweets! it sucks!”

“we’re putting everything at risk if we do toru we can’t!”

“i’m your man.”

“no you’re not—”

he cut you off. “your mouth has been on my dick. we’ve had sex. we’ve kissed we’ve made out we’ve told each other i love you if that doesn’t tell you that we’re together then what the actual fuck?!”

“oh my god toru i know i know!” you groaned, hugging yourself as you anxiously looked at him. “what happens if we break up? huh? what do we do?”

he shook his head. “we won’t.”

“you don’t know that.” you laughed bitterly. “if that happens we lose each other satoru understand that. we break birds of a feather, we ruin our careers, and we ruin us.”

“first of all—” he started. “our birds of a feather promise is to stick together, keep each other safe, and not seperate or fight, is it not?”

“it— it is—”

“so do you really think if we continue to keep each other in this fuck ass limbo of friends that we aren’t already breaking that?” he threw his arms out in emphasis. “we have never been just friends. i’ve known you for fourteen fucking years and we have never been just that.”

you blinked back tears.

“i promise you baby—” he slid closer to you and cupped your cheeks. “that we won’t leave each other. i will fight and try every single damn day to make sure that that shit never happens even though i already know it won’t because you’ve been made for me since birth and we haven’t separated since we’ve met.”

satoru wiped your cheeks. “but i also promise you, that if we continue as just friends, we will break. we’re gonna string each other along so fucking much that we’re gonna go absolutely insane and drive each other away. that is for certain.”

“but— skating—”

“i don’t give an ever living fuck.” he spat funnily and you laughed through your tears. “skating is nothing without you. all the trophies and medallions and the god damn olympics itself with that gold medal is nothing without you. i would give that shit up in a heartbeat if it meant keeping you in my life in exchange.”

“and i would do the same for you toru!” you sobbed, his arms immediately wrapping around your shoulders and pulling you in as you sniffled and hiccuped into his chest, him kissing the side of your head repeatedly and soothing a hand down your back.

“don’t cry pretty i didn’t meant to make you cry...” he mumbled, cheek mushed up against your head as your shoulders shook, a huge disgusting pit of guilt in his stomach. “fine it’s okay we can be just friends for a bit longer please don’t cry—”

“no!” you sputtered, pushing him back a little to face him. “i don’t wanna be just friends anymore either toru… it hurts me so much.”

“it does?” he asked softly and you nodded.

“it hurts me too.”

satoru wiped your remaining tears again and fixed the little bows in your hair, a soft liberated smile on his face as he reached down to cup your cheeks and bring your perfect lips to his, kissing you lovingly as the both of you felt like you could finally rest and stop ridiculously hiding your love in the shadows after so many years.

the thin tight rope that you had both been toppling over and rebalancing and holding onto to keep the other from falling, had finally snapped in two, and you and satoru were now in the darkest depths of the truth of what you both were.

except it wasn’t dark at all.

it was light and airy and heavenly, and you wondered why you had been so afraid when there was nothing to be afraid of in the first place, since the one you were falling with was satoru.

silly.

he pulled apart and looked at you, his striking blue eyes and white fluffy hair especially beautiful.

“tomorrow—” he began. “we’re gonna absolutely destroy everyone else there and land a spot in the top three, and then after i’m gonna take you out on a nice dinner and buy every single fucking dessert off the menu, and then i’m gonna ask you to be my girlfriend. okay baby?”

you giggled then, the brightest rosy cheeks on display from the both of you as you eagerly nodded and threw your arms around his neck.

and tomorrow could not come soon enough, because not only were you looking forward to making your dreams a reality and competing against other figure skating pairs from around the world and the olympics itself, but also the thought of officially being satoru’s after years of wishing on little stars and day dreaming about what that would be like for hours on end.

until the moment was here. happening.

the indoor arena was electric and rowdy the minute the competition commenced, you and satoru in absolute awe of the energetic atmosphere as many individuals in the crowd waved their banners or screamed their loved ones names, an ambience very similar to the olympics as you both watched pair after pair perform their hardwork and dedication on the ice, goosebumps on your skin as you fidgeted and jittered.

out of twenty of your countries competing pairs, only three of you would be chosen for the olympics.

and you hoped to god you and satoru would be chosen.

“we’re almost up baby.” satoru patted your head, sitting on a bench in your designated area. “i think it’s two more pairs then it’s us.”

you nodded, nerves closing up your throat as your eyes darted over the rink.

satoru frowned.

“hey.” he placed a hand on your thigh, suddenly wanting to rip your nylon tights off so you could actually feel his skin on yours. “you nervous sweets?”

you nodded again, and he gave you a silly grin.

“don’t be! you’re literally akira the second. we’ll be fine!”

you laughed lightly and leaned your head on his shoulder.

“and even if we don’t land a spot, that’s fine too.” he kissed your head. “it’s our first year anyways… we’ll know the game for next time and we’ll try harder.”

you picked your head up and smiled at him, his words settling your nerves just as soon as the last remaining pair took their places on stage, yours and satoru’s turn right after.

what you didn’t know, was that satoru was just as nervous as you.

but he knew you needed a rock and someone to comfort you— wanting to swoop in like a little hero and save you again… so he kept it hidden.

“fuck i almost forgot!” satoru jumped up and dug into his duffel bag, pulling out a roll of pale baby blue ribbon that matched your dress exactly. “you told me you didn’t have ribbon that matched your costume so i went and tried to look.”

he held it out for you cutely on his palm.

“does this one match?”

you picked up the roll, astonished and mushy inside that satoru actually went out of his way to find this specific ribbon color for you because you had expressed how unhappy you were with the darker shade you had, your eyes looking up at him in complete adoration.

“oh my goodness— thank you toru!”

you quickly undid the bows in your hair and slipped off the former ribbon, digging through your duffel bag for scissors and cutting off pieces from the new ribbon before looping them through your hair and tying, not needing a mirror since you’ve done it for as long as you could remember.

satoru’s cheeks went pink as he looked at your new pretty bows.

“does they look okay?”

“beautiful.” he responded, pecking your lips before taking your hand and leading you to the entrance of the rink.

“okay—” you breathed out. “this is it.”

“what kind of food do you think they’ll have at the dinner place we picked—”

“toru!” you giggled. “not now!”

he smiled sheepishly at you before leaning his forehead against yours.

you stuck your pinky out.

“birds of a feather?”

satoru grinned and looped his pinky with yours.

“birds of a feather baby.”

you both kissed your thumbs and once again, locked your promise.

the announcer over the speakers iterated your names and your country as you and satoru glided across the ice poised and graceful with your arms up, waving at the crowd and giving your mothers a special frantic wave before moving to starting position, unknowing of the way several other pairs and the judges themselves murmured about your reputation and your association with akira.

and you hoped she was watching over you both now. somewhere.

the music begun, contemporary and lyrical as you and satoru slid across the rink, already impressive and entertaining as you performed moves and lifts right off the bat, the sounds of your blades scraping against the ice oddly keeping you in time with your choreography as the number went on.

and you and satoru were feeding off of each other, the chemistry undeniable to a strangers eye that had no idea of your story as you conveyed passion through your expressions, each technical movement bleeding with the fact that you both had been olympic level trained since the age of fourteen and fifteen.

you were halfway through your routine now, the lasso lift coming up next as satoru harbored in his strength so he could properly propel you into that newly added spin.

you skated around him and he lifted you up into the air, the crowd cheering and excited at your beautiful remarkable forms.

except satoru’s hands were slippery.

why?

nerves. he quickly deemed it nerves as he had no time to deliberate since it was almost time to propel you up into the spin, his mind already racing over the fact that the slip in his hands was hindering his strength to keep you up there, and he worried that if he pushed you up, it wouldn’t be enough and you’d come tumbling down— hurting yourself.

but satoru had zero time to decide again as he went with protocol and pushed you up as hard as he possibly could and prayed you would go into your triple axel spin successfully and that he’d catch you.

but the minute that he did, the force yanked him back and his skates flew up in front of him, you falling down and your thigh hitting something sharp before you both went slamming to the ground— sliding apart from each other on the ice.

the crowd screamed and gasped in terror, sounds you were all too familiar with to what you heard three years ago filling both your fuzzy minds as satoru struggled to get back up, his head turning slowly around to see if you were okay and just sore like him—

until he saw your limp body on your side, your back to him with blood slowly pooling out on the ice and staining your pretty blue dress.

satoru scrambled up and skated straightaway in a panic to you before sliding on his knees as he reached you, turning you over and paling as he saw you were unresponsive and out fucking cold.

“baby?“ he shook you. “hey— baby—”

nothing.

why weren’t you answering him? why weren’t you awake?

his brain flashed images of akira’s body the day that she died, suffocating deja vu as the way you looked when he saw you like that on your side was a carbon copy of her from three years ago, his chest picking up speed as you continued to lay limp even after he shook you desperately numerous times like a madman.

and why was there so much blood?

blood that looked sickly bright red against the white ice, blood that stained his sleeves and shirt and hands as he held you up and supported your head, and blood that wouldn’t stop fucking oozing out of your leg as he trembled.

“hey— hey can you hear me?” satoru tapped your cheek rapidly, shaking you gently again with horrified eyes and still not getting a response.

“fuck! why is this happening this isn’t supposed to happen—”

how could he be your hero? how could he stop the blood and wake you up? how could he— how could he fix this how could he take it all back how could he fix this—

“no no no baby please—” he sobbed. “not like aki baby not like her man—”

he shook you again, your head lolling to the side as if— as if you were—

no.

“baby— birds of a feather right? birds of a feather we have to stick together you can’t— you can’t leave right?” he cried, chest heaving and vision blurry and you just felt so cold.

“you’re not leaving you’re not leaving me please not like aki please god—” he cradled you up to his chest in his arms and rocked. “you can’t leave me you’re all i know and i don’t wanna know anything else please baby—”

satoru’s frantic repeated heartbroken wailing echoed throughout the arena as the crowd erupted and moved around in hysteria, him still rocking you in his arms as he turned his head with terrified bloodshot eyes to look at both of your mothers, yours hunched over in a fit of screams and cries as his had her hands in her hair in utter disbelief and tears.

“fuck what do i do!” he sobbed, legs shakily standing as he slipped one arm under your back and the other under your knees, picking your limp body up as he saw a huge group of paramedics run over to him on the ice as he carried you over.

“help—” hic! “h—help me please—”

why couldn’t satoru be your hero when it mattered most?

several of them lowered the stretcher and took you from him, laying your lifeless self on it before hoisting you up and swiftly carrying you away, all of it horrifyingly and painfully similar to akira’s inevitable death.

were you gone?

satoru looked down and saw your baby blue ribbons on the ice, wet and stained with blood, once perfect bows in your pretty hair when he had you awake and breathing.

were you breathing? had you hit your head?

he couldn’t remember.

he couldn’t remember anything but your unresponsiveness, the way your skin was colder than the ice itself as he picked up your ribbons and looked at them in his hands— and the way your blood stretched over for what looked like miles and was still there.

in front of him. taunting him.

was the world so cruel as to take you too?

it wouldn’t. it couldn’t.

you’d never done anything wrong. you’d never treated anybody indifferently as you were sweet and beautiful and talented, always in servitude of others— in servitude of him as you taught him how to ice skate when you didn’t need to at six years old, you already kind and gentle at that young age when you could’ve easily shooed him away like a little bug and told him to fuck off.

and throughout your life too, as he was well aware he was an annoying dramatic piece of shit that whined and cried and ate your stashes of sweets all of the time— but you always just giggling and looking at him with adoration in your eyes, with your cheeky smile, with the little ribbon bows in your hair he loved so fucking much.

oh how he wished he didn’t always take your sweets at that moment. how he wished he wasn’t always an annoying blockhead and made you mad at times with his persistent personality and neediness as he stood there frozen in the rink staring at your blood— dark now and dull, wishing it was him instead of you.

you were knocked out for five days at the hospital.

you and satoru also didn’t make it into the top three at the international skating union competition.

you should’ve, as your score was already higher than any other pair there and only halfway through the routine too— but that’s precisely why you got knocked out.

if you had finished your number, you would’ve landed in the top three, but it ending halfway cut off the opportunity for accumulating more points, and eventually another pair surpassed your halfway score by two points.

but satoru didn’t give a shit. fuck the olympics and fuck the international skating union while your body laid still on the hospital bed for hours on end, him refusing to leave your side as he sat there and stared off into space with nothing in his head but hatred for himself as it was his fault that this happened and his blade that sliced you— eyes red and sunken and tired and refusing to eat or drink.

you had hit your head on the ice, but thankfully the trauma wasn’t anywhere near the severity of akira’s, it only inducing a strong concussion and sending you flying out of consciousness upon impact.

but it was the loss of blood that was the problem.

you had lost so much, too much of it.

it made you weak and frail and unable to do much and satoru worried that that’s what was going to take away your fighting chance of survival.

“you should go home satoru…” your mother sighed, standing by the door of your hospital room, her own eyes red and swollen.

he shook his head no silently.

“she’ll still be here… you need to eat something or sleep please. you look awful.”

satoru smiled weakly and shook his head again.

“m’fine.”

your mother pursed her lips to the side and she sighed again, nodding.

“i’ll come by early in the morning, alright?”

he hummed, giving her a tiny wave as she left and closed the door behind her.

satoru had brought a roll of pink ribbon from your little white box in your room, unrolling the pieces he chose and lifting his hands, taking the ends of your hair and trying to tie little thin bows the way you always did, but huffing softly in irritation when they just looked like shit.

he undid the one he was working on and settled for feeling the material of the ribbon between his thumbs instead.

satoru brought you bouquets everyday too.

sometimes three at a time as he continuously swapped out old flowers and replaced them with new ones, changed their water and poured fresh quantities into each vase to keep them alive, and often picked some more from the hospital garden when he went down to get some fresh air for a minute— the least he could do for nearly killing you.

and satoru had a lot of time to think while he waited for you to wake up— bitter and resentful at the world for letting him sit there healthy while you were out, so much so that he started thinking stupid shit like how he wished you would’ve forgotten him and dismissed his yapping dreams about ice skating when you met so you would’ve been an independent skater instead, so you then wouldn’t have gotten hurt by his idiocy and you wouldn’t be laying in a hospital bed like you were now.

or swapped places. him instead of you so he could beat up the fucks that took akira away and beat up zeus or— or aphrodite or whoever the fuck that was responsible for keeping him from you so he could come back to you… unsure if you were doing the same thing as he stared at your resting face.

you should’ve just left him behind.

but he was sleeping when you woke.

arms propped up and crossed next to you on the hospital bed, his cheek mushed up on them and face to the side as you blinked your eyes open and was straight up confused, not a single memory of the incident flitting through your mind… until it did.

and it hit you bad.

your mind reeled with a pounding headache, tears prickling your eyes at the events that plagued through your mind— a part of you knowing there was absolutely no way you and satoru made top three and gutted about it, feeling shaken from the memory alone of you falling and hitting the ice.. but grateful.

grateful to be alive, for you knew akira wasn’t as lucky.

was it because of her that you had lived? had she pulled some strings to change your fate?

your eyes trailed down to a sleeping peaceful satoru, your gaze softening at how tired and broken he looked, bags dark and purple as he snored away next to you, your hand lifting and delicately settling over his fluffy white hair as you smiled that he was here next to you— caressing.

satoru shot up wide awake then as you jumped and retracted your hand, the both of you alarmed and frantic.

“baby?” he grabbed your hand and felt around it, feeling warmth for once as he stood up straight and shoved back one of the sleeves of his hoodie.

“you’re awake? are you actually?—” he pinched his arm hard over and over and you giggled.

you giggled— the sound filling his ears and lifting an undeniable dark ton off of his shoulders as he relaxed, tears automatically brimming his eyes.

“i thought i fucking killed you sweets.” his voice shook, arms gently coming around you and pulling you into an embrace.

“killed me?” you frowned. “toru what are you talking about—”

“oh god you have amnesia—”

“no!” you laughed. “what do you mean by almost killed me? you didn’t do anything.”

“i did everything.” he spoke flatly. “i fucked up that lasso lift. i pushed you up too hard and we fell. i cut you with my blade i made you bleed—”

“toru that was an accident.” you pulled back and your chest hurt over the devastated look on his face, wiping his tears and kissing his nose. “remember— aki’s partner felt just like this and we had to tell him too it was an accident. you can’t control something like that. at all. it’s just unfortunate circumstance.”

“i know but i still feel like—” he wiped his eyes and swallowed. “i still feel like i could’ve done something different. it should’ve been me and not you and i should’ve—”

“toru don’t even don’t think about things like that.” you shook your head. “there wasn’t anything you could’ve done, baby. and that’s okay.”

you gently scooched over on the bed and patted the spot next to yours, satoru immediately climbing and settling in, clinging on to you as he placed his head on your chest with his arm firm but careful around your waist, suddenly feeling how exhausted he actually was from the days he spent restless.

you couldn’t have imagined the pain satoru must’ve gone through waiting for you to wake up. you didn’t know how he even fucking managed as you would’ve been torn into bits and pieces not knowing if he was going to live or not, looking at his limp bloody body the way he had to look at yours and it reminding you of the event that brought you both the most trauma and grief.

you couldn’t believe you almost went out the same way.

satoru confirmed your thoughts later and filled you in on the results of the international skating union competition, rubbing salt into the wound a little more upon learning that you landed fourth, nearly there as you couldn’t help but cry a bit in your hospital bed when he told you that you could’ve had a spot, satoru hugging you and reassuring you that you’d both have your shot at it in the next four years.

your family was relieved that you were awake, tons of people piling in and giving you sweets and food that satoru hungrily eyed and gawked over, you laughing and passing him the ones he particularly enjoyed most as you conversed with your relatives.

and recovery was thankfully easy— doctors orders being just you taking it light and being careful not to bonk your head against anything, as well as taking care of the laceration on your leg— changing the bandage frequently every morning and night, satoru insisting he help you with that and with many other things that you needed as he tried to make up for what he still thought was his fault.

two weeks had gone by of just rest and peace and no figure skating, thinking you and satoru deserved this break, but also secretly petrified of stepping on the ice again after what had happened— neither of you wanting to hurt the other as you avoided the topic of training for the meantime at all costs.

“maybe we should work at a water park.” you suggested one day, the two of you seated on a park bench through the chilly mid january air as you shared a plate of chocolate drizzled strawberries you got from some nice lady and her fruit stand. “be lifeguards!”

“oh hell no!” he spoke with his mouthful before swallowing, readjusting the black round sunglasses resting on the bridge of his nose. “you think i’m gonna be fine with watching random old men savoring after my wife in her little red bikini while i’m off saving some drowning kid? oh no thank you. let the kid drown.”

“toru!” you laughed, smacking his shoulder. “okay then what else?”

“janitors.”

you shrugged. “i like to clean. sometimes.”

“and your entire body is covered in those jumpsuits no stinky old men looking at—”

satoru’s phone buzzed against his jeans and he paused and pulled it out as you giggled, him barely glancing at the caller i.d before answering.

“hello?”

you mindlessly carried on plopping strawberries in your mouth and chewing.

“this is he…. oh hello! yes! how are you?”

you eyed satoru quizzically at his sudden formal change in tone, his eyes glued to the cement below.

“uh huh… really? o—okay! no yes for sure! thank you so much for the opportunity!”

opportunity?

you slowed your chewing and nudged his shoulder gently, wanting him to give you some kind of sign as to who it was on the other line.

“okay, we’ll keep in touch! thank you again!”

satoru slowly removed his phone away from his ear as the other line went dead, staring at his screen and you curiously leaning over only to see his call history log, a random number at the top.

“holy fuck.”

“what?!” you leaned in closer and tried to catch his eyes with yours, his shocked wide gaze slowly flittering to your face.

“that was the national olympic committee.”

you froze.

“shut the fuck up.” you covered your mouth. “toru what did they say what did they say—”

“one of the pairs that made it in the top three got disqualified.” he spat out quickly, shooting up and digging his fingers into his hair as he walked back and forth slowly in disbelief, spinning to face you. “i— i don’t know why i didn’t ask but we got bumped up.”

silence.

“we—” your chest rose and fell erratically, eyes darting around as satoru knelt down and grabbed your hands.

“baby we made it.” he tightened his grip. “we’re competing in the olympics—”

you squealed and jumped up and down and pulled satoru in, the both of you comically bouncing off the walls as you wailed and cried and blabbered on about how you couldn’t believe it and how a chance like this was even given to you, satoru lifting you and spinning you around but stopping and freaking out and apologizing profusely over your injured leg, you shaking your head and laughing, kissing him in return.

“we can’t avoid skating toru.” you spoke once you and him had settled down. “it’s literally what brought us together… and what brought us to aki. and even from you spinning me around like that it reminded me how much i missed skating with you.”

“i feel the same sweets.” he smiled, big and bright and handsome as he leaned over and kissed your rosy cheek. “i miss lifting you up and catching a glimpse of your ass underneath your—”

“toru!”

even though you and satoru were finally on board and accepting of bringing skating back into your lives, it wasn’t to say at all that the fear itself went away when you tried to do lifts or spins in the air with each other— apprehensive and scared as you practiced on the mats way more than necessary before moving choreography to the ice, satoru multiple times chickening out and needing a moment as he was petrified of hurting you again, and you glued in place at the thought of falling and slamming on the ground when you had just survived mostly unscathed.

but this wasn’t the time to be afraid over that anymore, and if akira were here, you both knew she’d smack you upside the heads and tell you to move… to get on the ice and do the sport you both loved and cherished most.

to finalize your dream and make it a reality.

and throughout the month that you and satoru spent before the commencement of the olympics, you trained like never before— no excuses as you worked tirelessly day and night with sweat literally dripping from your faces until every single goal was met and beyond, until every single throw from satoru was perfected and until every axel from you was delivered.

sometime during this month too, satoru finally got to take you out on that romantic candle lit dinner like he promised and asked you to be his girlfriend, him giddy and grinning the whole time and literally spoiling the moment as he meant to give you a chocolate dessert plate that said ‘will you be mine’ in chocolate syrupy letters, but accidentally eating it and smearing the words when he confused your plate with his, smacking his forehead repeatedly on the dining table as the silverware clattered— muttering about how dark it was and how he couldn’t fucking see, but you laughing so fucking much and clutching your stomach that your makeup smudged up at the corner of your eyes.

satoru was reminded again how much he loved you that day, because anyone else would’ve gotten tremendously annoyed and called him an idiot, but you…

you just giggled. giggled and hiccuped like always while he stared at you softly.

the love you and satoru shared stretched far beyond the concepts of what a platonic and romantic relationship was.

the love you and satoru shared was sacrifice. genuine sacrifice and yearn and absolute unadulterated love as you both without another thought would drop your careers for each other, would swap places if it meant the other would be safe from harm’s way, and would endure years of swallowing and pushing back feelings if it meant just keeping one another in your lives forever.

because that’s what birds of a feather was for to begin with.

a promise to stick together. a promise to keep each other safe.

a concept so pure and devoted that it translated onto the ice like no other pair when it came time for the olympics.

“you ready sweets?” satoru breathed out as you both stood in front of each other by the outside of the rink with interlaced fingers, shaking each other’s jitters out. “no matter what happens, we’ve already come so far and done so much, okay? we’ve done what we needed to do.”

“mhm!” you quickly nodded, satoru leaning down before you both rested your foreheads against each other’s with massive smiles on your faces, thunderous cheers echoing throughout the giant arena totally drowned out in your ears as you stared into satoru’s sparkling blue eyes.

“make aki proud.” you repeated softly, and he nodded, you hoping once again she was watching over you both.

you both stuck your pinkies out at the same time and looped them together.

“birds of a feather?” satoru beamed.

“birds of a feather.”

and you kissed your thumbs before sealing your promise.

you both watched the pair that you were going right after perform their routine, beautiful and difficult as you gnawed at your bottom lip in distress.

“toru…”

“yeah baby?”

“some of these pairs are crazy good…” you spoke over the music. “i’d honestly be happy with getting in the top twenty i don’t know if we can—”

satoru scoffed and shook his head, a sly smile as he looked over the rink with his arms crossed.

“nah, we’d win.”

and just like akira had done in her final olympic year— in her final moments, you and satoru made it known that it was your debut, that you had been hungry and desperate for this moment since the ages of six and seven, that you’d been raised and trained by a four-time olympic gold medalist for a decade as you executed the most technical and intricate moves and turns, you and satoru moving as one on the ice and identical as he took your hands and glided on the ice with you, raw emotion in your expressions that read love so clearly that it was impossible to miss.

with each lift, with each time satoru took you in his arms and spun, and with each time he simply held you close and tenderly to his chest as his blades scrapped across the ice with your pretty bows in his view— were all reminders for the two of you that partner figure skating was nothing without satoru and nothing without you.

the privilege of having another way to convey just how much you loved each other through the language of artistic expression and skates and ice, through the feel of each other’s skin, was one you nurtured and looked after and loved as the wind whipped through you and satoru due to the speed of your skates, performing quadruple axels like nothing while dropping the jaws of other figure skating pairs.

and because of this fact alone, how you both truly appreciated each other’s entities and had the indescribable power to correlate that into competitive sport—

was the reason why you and satoru won gold that day.

you and him, on your knees, gripping and hugging one another so hard and crying tears of joy as you both had come so far and gone through so much to get to where you were now, your dream now a complete and total reality as you stepped up onto that podium during the medal award ceremony just like akira had done— representing your country excellently with a big fat gold medal hung over your necks and a big fat kiss from satoru as he lip locked with you up there, flashings of cameras and bouquets and teddy bears scattered all throughout the ice in dismay.

“i love you!” satoru yelled to you over the roaring as you waved at the crowd, your mothers crying and blowing their noses and taking pictures from the edge of the rink as you and satoru cackled and pointed at them.

“i love you, toru!”

“no like seriously!” he put his waving hand down. “i wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. thank you for recognizing that i have love and dreams too baby and for not forgetting about me even when i’ve been the most annoying dipshit of your life.”

“you’ve never been that to me my god toru! where is this coming from?” he hopped off the podium once you two were given the all clear and he held a helping hand out for you to take, you doing so and carefully stepping down.

“reeaally?” he cheesed, cheeky and silly as his big pearly white smile made your cheeks flush. “so you love me then?”

“i literally would not be with you if i didn’t—”

“hooray!” he cheered, throwing his arms up as flower petals flew from his bouquets and around. “my girlfriend loves me! and we’re gonna have rough passionate olympian sex in our hotel room—”

“toru!—”

the love you and satoru shared wasn’t something silly like ‘i like you, you like me.’

it was call me when you get home.

have you eaten yet?

here, let me help you.

whatever you need.

yours and satoru’s souls were exactly the same— blended, intertwined, and stubbornly knotted together as no amount of tug and pull could unravel you both apart, satoru finding over the years that loving you was like muscle memory from the moment he met you, his nerves and reflexes gravitating him towards you on the ice that first time even when he knew there was a huge chance of him slipping and falling, but not being afraid of it at all as long as he just got to you, convinced he knew you in another life as you just felt so familiar the moment he saw your pretty little face.

and you’re so glad that he did get to you… that he stayed with you.

fourteen years of ice cream trips and sleepovers and horror movies from the moment you were teeny tiny babies to adults, experiencing the hardships of your teenage years of loss and grief, to then adulthood and college as you had the privilege of learning to navigate it with another being that was just like you, two little birds with no sense of direction other than to each other.

and it was all thanks to one woman and one woman alone.

“i honestly believe that if she was there, she would’ve brought one of those confetti poppers with dye in it and set it off.” you commented, you and satoru sitting on the grass at her grave site as you leaned your head on his shoulder and his head on top of yours, having literally just come off the plane from being at the olympics— your countries olympic button up thick jackets adorning your figures as your gold medals gleamed radiantly against the sun.

“i wish she was there.” satoru hummed, and you nodded softly in agreement.

“me too… but i’m sure she was! as a little birdie.”

he chuckled, finding your hand and interlacing your fingers as you stared at her tombstone like you’d done so many times before already… except this time it was bittersweet, you having accomplished what the three of you had strived so hard for at last.

“i miss her.” you murmured. “i miss her cussing.”

your eyes flickered down to her peace offerings, the little snow angel trinket you had gotten her still pretty and glossy and her as it sat happily on her stone platform.

satoru picked his head up and kissed the top of your head, propping his chin up on it.

“i miss her too baby.” he responded softly. “everyday.”

“but— i can’t thank her enough for giving us the bullets to fire with for skating.. y’know..” you ran the pad of your index finger along her tombstone, rough and scratchy as you traced little hearts along the edges.

“and she brought us closer together, did she not?” satoru pointed out.

she did.

a woman who was clumsy and loud and erratic with the biggest potty mouth you had ever heard that was passed down to you and satoru in the blink of an eye… but man did she know what love was as she taught it to you and reminded you both of exactly what it was each and every day.

you and satoru had accepted the fact that your hearts would never be whole again, for akira had taken half of them elsewhere and into the depths of the unknown.

but you were okay with that. completely and utterly okay with that.

for love had no limits.

you wanted her to keep it, as you and satoru stitched the remaining halves of your hearts together to create a new whole, as there was no one else you both would rather have that part of you with them forever besides akira.

and yours and satoru’s stitched up hearts grew increasingly bigger and fonder even after a couple of years later, even after winning three more olympic gold medals, you and him back at the same place in front of akira’s grave like always, sitting and laughing and chatting— but with two little baby toddlers that were half of you and half of satoru as they blubbered on about ‘mama aki’ and her trophies, a delicate twinkling ring on your finger and a golden band around satoru’s as your little family had a picnic over her final resting place.

“papa!” your son exclaimed, satoru immediately turning his attention to him in the midst of scarfing down a turkey sandwich.

“yes my offspring?”

you playfully glared at your husband.

“why do your eyes look scarier in the day?”

“HAH!” you slapped a hand over your mouth to hush your cackling, satoru’s face absolutely taken aback and offended.

“they do!” your daughter giggled. “they do! they do!—”

“baby do something!” satoru whined, shoulders slumping as he threw his head back. “i’m being bullied by five year old’s!”

you giggled and kissed his cheek, his pout quickly turning into a soft little grin as his face flushed pink.

“but your papa’s eyes are pretty you guys! and they match yours!”

“mmm— nope! scary!”

your two twin toddlers giggled uncontrollably as they thought being mean to their dad was the funniest thing in the world, you laughing with them as satoru flopped back dramatically and completely laid down on the grass with his eyes looking straight up at the bright sky.

“s’okay.” he spoke flatly. “if even my pretty little wife thinks my suffering is funny i’ll just burn my eyes to a crisp—”

“toru!” you slapped his knee. “too graphic in front of the kiddies.”

“but my suffering!—”

“mommy mommy!” your daughter tugged at your sleeve and pointed to the top of akira’s tombstone, a cute perfect white and brown bird perched up on the edge and peering curiously at the four of you, the creature not alarmed whatsoever of your children’s sudden movements as they scrambled to get closer to it.

satoru propped himself up with an elbow and stared before you both locked eyes, knowing growing smiles on your faces as he fully sat up— leaning and planting a gentle kiss to your forehead, letting it linger.

aki.

and it was like you and satoru were reminded again of your promise that you still told each other every day.

a promise that consisted of your years together… of your love, of your undying fervor of sticking together, of your need of keeping each other safe…

of birds of a feather.

taglist!! <33 (THANK YOU THANK YOU!):

@cupcaketeddybehr @soobiary @roachfun @waterfal-ling @saebaey @reneinii @luvvmae @cake-with-the-cream @pixie-dix @2ukika @cramelmacchiao @hy3phiren @umemiaa @wil10wthetree @jameinfrau @pancakeszs @drftnzume @k0z3me @k4zivy @dindjarins1ut @starrnai @tinyray-lovesfood @iloveoldermenn @dazqa @applepi25 @aria-chikage @rose-tinted-kalopsia @runfrme @unofficialsapphire

[puppmeo]

And the cycle begins anew . As it does every week

[harrysfolklore]

nepo boyfriend - fc43

summary: franco colapinto is dating leo messi's daughter, which makes him a "nepo boyfriend"

folkie radio: GUYSSS HERE IT IS! took me a minute to do this requests but there you have it. i had to educate myself on messi lore for this and omg he has the cutest love story with his wife, im obsessed lol. anyway, i hope you like this!

MASTERLIST | MY PATREON

liked by francolapinto, olliebearman and 202,826 others

yn.messi home 🤍🇦🇷

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username1 IT GIRLLL

username2 coolest nepo baby

username3 ESPERA is that franco colapinto??

└ username1 she's been dating franco for years now 👀

└ username4 our boy stealing messi's daughter's heart purrrr

username5 little messi has a boyfriend???

└ username1 yeah he's literally argentina's next f1 star

francolapinto mi hogar está dondequiera que estés ♥️ [home is wherever you are]

└ yn.messi 🫂🤍

username6 imagine your dad being the most famous sportsman ever and dating a cute guy and wearing cute outfits. she has the dream life

username7 i can’t wait for franco to make it to f1 so they become the paddock it couple

liked by francolapinto, yn.messi and 509,268 others

williamsracing BREAKING: Franco Colapinto joins Williams Racing for the rest of the 2024 season. Welcome to the family, @/francolapinto!

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username1 OMFGGGGG

username2 poor logan but franco is really talented he deserves this chance !!

username3 HES SO CUTE HELLO??

yn.messi mi campeón 🫶✨ [my champion]

└ francolapinto ❤️‍🔥❤️‍🔥

└ username1 LEO MESSI’S DAUGHTER??

alex_albon Welcome to the team mate!

└ francolapinto gracias Alex! Ready to learn 💪

username4 ARGENTINA IS BACK IN F1

leomessi 👏🏼👏🏼👏🏼

└ username2 LEO COMMENTING ON F1 POST??? history

└ username3 argentina’s pride and joy already

username5 IS HE SINGLE??? PLEASE TELL ME HE IS

username6 new fans you better learn the franco lore bc there’s plenty of it

username7 WAIT UNTIL YOU FIND OUT THAT-

liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 389,766 others

yn.messi first of many. orgullosa de vos siempre 🤍 [proud of you always]

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username1 awe 🥹🥹🥹🥹

username2 MY BABIES

username3 THEY’RE TOGETHER ???

francolapinto gracias por todo mi amor ❤️ [thank you for everything my love]

└ username3 HE CALLED HER MI AMOR I'M CRYING

└ username1 someone check if i'm breathing

└ yourinstagram i love you!

username4 THE WAY SHE'S BEEN THERE SINCE FOREVER

└ username1 that's real love right there

└ username2 watching them grow together >>>>>>

williamsracing Our favorite supporter 💙

└ yn.messi 🫶🫶

lilymhe welcome! 🥹💗💗

username5 my girl really said forget football i'm going racing

└ username1 leo watching his princess date a racer instead of a footballer: 🧍‍♂️

└ username2 the crossover we didn't know we needed

username6 remember when we thought those pics in buenos aires were edited??

username7 THE MINI MESSI AND THE F1 DRIVER, THIS IS MY ROMAN EMPIRE

username8 first we got leo bringing us the world cup now franco in f1 🇦🇷

└ username2 and yn connecting both worlds, iconic behavior

username9 the way he looks at her in the first pic >>>>>

username10 IM SO CONFUSED RIGHT NOW

liked by username1, username2 and 56,827 others

f1gossip 🚨 Williams driver Franco Colapinto spotted with YN Messi (yes, THAT Messi's daughter) at dinner in Monaco

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username1 WAIT WHAT??? HOW DID WE NOT KNOW THIS

└ username2 they've literally been together for like four years 😭

└ username3 where have you been living?? under a rock??

username4 messi's daughter dating an f1 driver?? didn't see this coming

└ username2 she's been at every race supporting him!

username5 they're literally the cutest couple in f1 rn

username6 probably just wants messi's connections for sponsors tbh

└ username2 he literally got the williams seat on merit stfu

└ username3 tell me you know nothing about franco without telling me

username7 she could do better than a pay driver

└ username2 clearly you haven't watched a single f2 race

└ username3 worry about your own life challenge

└ username4 he's literally argentina's biggest racing talent in years

username8 why isn't she dating a footballer instead??

└ username2 because she can date whoever she wants??

username9 they've been together for ages, internet using internet internet explorer fr

└ username3 real ones remember their first spotting in buenos aires

username10 the amount of sponsorship money williams must be getting

username11 this is actually so cute. from f2 to f1 together

liked by username1, username2 and 5,028 others

francoupdates here are some pics of franco and yn messi through the years since some of you are new to this

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username1 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭

username2 power couple since day ONE

username3 that pic of her at the pitwall watching him race >>>>>

└ username1 the way she still does this at every race 🥺

username4 REAL ONES HAVE BEEN HERE

username5 they were so tiny i can’t

username6 LOS AMO

username7 young yn watching franco race vs now analyzing his data

username8 here to spread the colapinto x messi agenda

username9 argentina’s it couple since forever

username10 SIMP BABY FRANCO I CANT

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liked by landonorris, yourinstagram and 1,023,477 others

francolapinto Points ✅ BZRP cap ✅ Nepo boyfriend things ✅

Gracias por el apoyo! [thank you for the support]

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username1 FRANCOOOO 😩😩

username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend thing go i love him

username3 this divaaaa

yn.messi and they said dating messi's daughter got you the seat... weird way to spell pure talent

└ francolapinto clearly i'm the worst nepo boyfriend ever

└ francolapinto te amo hermosa ❤️

└ username1 HELP THEY'RE SO FUNNY TOGETHER

williamsracing More of this please! 💙

username4 worst nepo boyfriend ever actually delivers results

username5 embarrassing nepotism attempt tbh

username6 not him actually being talented and making us all proud

username7 THE ROOKIES BRINGING POINTS HOME

leomessi 🙌🙌 Vamos!

└ username1 JUST ICONIC

└ yn.messi the payment for his permanent seat is due next week don’t forget!

└ username2 IM SCREAMING

username8 the way they're both trolling the haters i love them sm

liked by francolapinto, alexandrasaintmleux and 402,277 others

yn.messi mi lugar favorito [my favorite place] 🤍 pit stop before mexico city

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username1 AWEEEEE

username2 how can anyone hate this couple

username3 THE. HAND. PLACEMENT.

francolapinto perdiste en fifa mi amor [you lost in fifa]

└ yn.messi te dejo ganar 😌 [i let you win]

└ landonorris exposed by your own girlfriend mate

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SO BAD

leomessi ❤️

username4 this is what we mean by relationship goals

username5 THE WAY SHE EXPOSED HIM ABOUT FIFA 😭

username6 football royalty 🤝 f1

username7 this is such a great crossover i can’t

username8 LOS AMO [i love them]

lilyhme 💗💗

username9 taking franco to her dad’s matches 🥹🥹

username10 i’m so parasocial about them

liked by username1, yn.messi and 12,043 others

francoupdates Franco opens up about his relationship with YN Messi in recent interview:

"I met her at an event in Argentina back in 2019. She didn't even know what DRS was back then and now she corrects my racing lines in the sim. We grew up together through all this - F3, F2, now F1. She's been there through the tough times, sleeping in paddocks, the uncertain seasons. The nepotism jokes are funny because if you knew how many nights we spent budgeting for the next race... Being Leo Messi's daughter was never part of our story. It was just YN and Franco, trying to make it work while chasing a dream and loving each other very much”

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username1 NOT ME CRYING OVER THIS

username2 NOT HIM SAYING SHE CORRECTS HIS RACING LINES 😭

└ yn.messi someone has to 🤷🏻‍♀️

└ username1 HI YN I LOVE YOU 😭

username3 "just YN and Franco" 🥺

└ username2 this is actually so wholesome

username4 "budgeting for the next race" but they said nepotism 🙄

username5 THIS IS THE PUREST THING EVER

username6 MY CORAZON [my heart]

username7 haters don’t know a single thing about their story, they have been soulmates for years now

username8 cute but we do need messi connections for that seat 😩

username9 IF THEY DONT GET MARRIED ISTG

username10 real ones have been here since that buenos aires spotting

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francolapinto added to their stories

[the prettiest is ready for vegas]

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liked by yn.messi, williamsracing and 678,923 others

francolapinto 3 more races let's gooo! ready to prove nepotism requires talent sometimes 😌✌🏼 (yn stop rolling your eyes at my jokes mi amor)

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username1 I LOVE HIM SO BAD

username2 he’s never letting the nepo boyfriend jokes go

yn.messi i'll stop rolling my eyes when you stop missing apex points honey 😘

└ francolapinto MI AMOR WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIS

└ alex_albon she's got data to back this up mate

└ williamsracing YN: 1, Franco: 0

└ username1 I LOVE THEM SM

username3 NOT YN ROASTING HIS RACING LINES IN THE COMMENTS

└ username4 MOTHER CHOSE VIOLENCE TODAY

username5 no one can convince me they aren’t the best couple ever

username6 bro got called a nepo boyfriend once and now that’s his brand

landonorris 😂😂😂

username7 okay but when is messi going to get franco a seat fr

username8 worst nepo kid ever he doesn’t even have a seat yeat

liked by username1, username2 and 43,022 others

f1gossip Franco Colapinto and YN Messi spotted getting cozy at XS Nightclub in Vegas after qualifying 🎰 Apparently someone forgot Papa Messi might see these 👀

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username1 FRANCO BABY WHAT ARE YOU DOING LEO'S GONNA SEE THIS 💀

└ username2 man's risking it all before his first full season

username2 breaking: franco colapinto will not race tomorrow due to mysterious disappearance

└ username3 leo messi spotted buying a plane ticket to vegas

username4 it was nice knowing you franco 😭

username5 WILLIAMS RACING SUDDENLY LOOKING FOR NEW DRIVER

username6 someone check on franco pls

username7 pov: you forgot your girlfriend's dad is literally lionel messi

username8 leo messi about to show up at williams garage

username9 THEY’RE SO CUTE THO

username10 MY PARENTS ACTUALLY

liked by francolapinto, lilymhe and 401,827 others

yn.messi vegas was fun ‼️ papi please don’t check your phone

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username1 HEEEEEELPP

username2 BESTIE YOU’RE INSANE

alex_albon Kids these days.. they don’t know how you behave

└ username1 imagine alex just babysitting them at the club 😭

username3 BABY WE ALL SAW THE PICS

username4 just in: leonel messi spotted planning vehicular manslaughter

username5 FRANCO MOVE TO ANTARTICA ITS NOT TOO LATE

francolapinto i’m scared..

└ username1 WE ALL ARE

└ username2 THIS IS TOO FUNNY

francolapinto hermosa 😍😍

└ username3 he said yup my gf’s dad could kill me but i’m still thirsting over her

username6 CAUGHT IN 4K AND FULL HD

landonorris 😂😂😂😂 never a dull day with y’all

username7 franco consider witness protection

username8 DROP THE HAIR ROUTINE QUEENIE

alexandrasaintmleux been there donde that…

username9 there goes your possible seat franco leo messi is not paying for it anymore

username10 MENACES

liked by username1, username2 and 29,726 others

francoupdates Franco with one of YN’s little brothers in Qatar! The Messi’s are there to watch him race 🥹

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username1 OH MY LORDDDDD

username2 THIS IS SO CUTE IM MELTING

username3 her dad is there to have a chat with franco about those pictures in las vegas

username4 FRANCO SEAT CONFIRMATION INCOMING

username5 this is so adorable and the fact that yn’s brothers know him since they were born lrettt much 🥹🥹

username6 FRANCO YOU’RE SO LOVED

username7 leo be like: hello franco i just want to talk

username8 ARGENTINA’S ROYALTY

username9 yn tried to hide her dad’s phone and he just showed up at the paddock with the whole fam

username10 I LIVE FOR THIS

liked by username1, username2 and 43,098 others

f1gossip"Yeah, no pressure right? But honestly, they're like my second family now. Leo's probably more nervous than me - he keeps sending me good luck messages. Thiago and Mateo have been explaining F1 to Ciro all week. And YN... well, she's in bossy mode so she's more focused on telling me where I'm losing time than giving good luck kisses. But having them here means everything." - Franco talking about his girlfriend's family watching him race in Qatar!

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username1 THE WAY HE GETS SHY TALKING ABOUT THEM

username2 leo sending good luck texts is killing me

username3 YN REALLY SAID RACING LINES > KISSES

username4 imagine getting good luck texts from messi 😭

username5 VAMOS FRANCOOOO

username6 messi family taking over qatar paddock we love to see it

username7 NEPO BOYFRIEND THINGSSS

username8 yn's dad is there to buy franco a set soooo trueee

username9 GOOD LUCK KISSES 🥺

username10 the way he lights up mentioning yn though └ username1 even if she's roasting his racing lines 😭

liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,026,287 others

francolapinto Special helmet for Qatar 🇶🇦Celebrando la copa del mundo [celebrating the world cup] ⭐️⭐️⭐️ Had to honor the greatest of all time and well... my future father in law 😅 Gracias Leo por todo [thank you for everything], specially for not killing me for dating your daughter

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username1 FRANCO OMFG

username2 HE REALLY DID THIS

yn.messi "future father in law" someone's feeling brave today

└ francolapinto had to shoot my shot mi amor

└ username1 HE REALLY WANTS TO DIE TODAY

└ leomessi 👀

username3 DID HE JUST- IS THIS A PROPOSAL HINT???

└ username2 MAN'S REALLY ANNOUNCING HIS INTENTIONS ON MAIN

username4 FRANCO CHOOSING VIOLENCE TODAY

username5 bro using a helmet reveal to ask for blessing, respect

landonorris At least the man’s got game 😂

username6 HELP DID HE JUST SOFT LAUNCH A PROPOSAL

└ username1 leo reading that caption: 🔪

username7 future father in law... franco woke up fearless

username8 LATINO GANG RISE UP VAMOS FRANCO

username9 THE WAY HE JUST ANNOUNCED HIS DEATH WISH

williamsracing Lovely helmet design! Also, security has been increased around the garage

alex_albon might need witness protection after this one mate

└ yn.messi don't worry guys papa already knew about the helmet

└ francolapinto MI AMOR YOU COULD'VE LED WITH THAT 😭

username10 never beating the nepo boyfriend allegations

username11 buttering messi up so he can buy him a seat we know

liked by lilymhe, francolapinto and 402,389 others

yn.messi my nepo boyfriend who couldn't even get a point in his first race just finished his first formula 1 season 🥹 so proud of you mi amor, from watching you race karts to F1... i'd say dating the goat’s daughter worked out pretty well 😌❤️ @/francolapinto

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username1 THIS IS SO CUTE

username2 the second pic i’m SOBBING

francolapinto from being the worst nepo boyfriend to getting points... all thanks to you mi amor ❤️

└ yn.mesi you're still the worst nepo boyfriend but i love you

└ alex_albon get a room you two

williamsracing Nepo strategy successful ✅

username3 living the nepo dream fr

username4 THE WAY SHE'S ALWAYS BEEN HIS BIGGEST SUPPORTER 😭

username5 from karting girlfriend to f1 wag upgrade

username6 they keep bringing up the nepo boyfriend thing 😭

└ username1 she'll never let him live it down

username7 YN AND FRANCO SUPREMACY

username8 the nepo jokes never get old

alexandrasaintmleux 🥹🥹🥹🥹

leomessi Estamos muy orgullosos ❤️

└ username1 THIS IS SO ADORABLE

└ username2 franco you’re so loved

username8 SHE'S SO PROUD OF HIM I'M CRYING

└ username2 the way she never stops teasing him though

username9 MY PARENTS SINCE THAT FIRST BUENOS AIRES SPOTTING

username10 OUR BEST WAG NEEDS TO STAY

liked by yn.messi, landonorris and 1,011,965 others

francolapinto What a year... Couldn't have done this without my biggest supporter since karting days @/yn.messi ❤️ Thank you for believing in me even when I was "the worst nepo boyfriend" 😅

And to the entire Messi family - gracias por hacerme sentir parte de la familia desde el primer día. Leo, gracias por confiarme lo más precioso que tienen (y por no matarme todavía).

[thank you for making me feel part of the family since day one. Leo, thank you for trusting me with your most precious treasure (and for not killing me yet).]

Time to work harder for 2025 💪🏼

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username1 FRANCOOO OMFG

username2 this is so CUTE

yn.messi still the worst nepo boyfriend but i guess you're MY worst nepo boyfriend ❤️

└ francolapinto te amo mi amor

└ username1 THEY’RE THE CUTEST

username3 “trusting me with your most precious treasure” IM DEADDDD

username4 man wrote a whole love letter to the messis

└ username1 AS HE SHOULD

leomessi You’re family 🤍 [eres familia]

username5 NOT LEO SAYING HE'S FAMILY I'M CRYING

└ username2 from fearing leo to being adopted by him

williamsracing Family ✅ Points ✅ 2025 loading...

└ username3 GIVE HIM A SEAT

username6 THE SECOND PIC, THEY WERE LITTLE BABIES

username7 THE WAY HE THANKED THE WHOLE FAMILY 😭

└ username1 securing that messi blessing

[whirlybirbs]

— CAN'T WE BE SEVENTEEN? ; shoto todoroki ; 焦凍

summary: he's loved you since he was seventeen. pairing: f!reader x pro hero!shoto ; reader was a 1-A student tags: mutual pining, heavy make-out, thinly veiled sugar daddy shoto, reader does not go pro, touya might be a dick but he's a hero now, shoto is bad at feelings wordcount: 5.6k a/n: i do not fucking know what came over me, enjoy your food my little todorokinas. yes the title is what you think it is. no i will not elaborate.

You never did go pro.

Truthfully, you thought there would be more pushback when, in your senior year, you announced your plan to pursue a degree in early childhood education with a focus on non-conforming quirk development. 

The War changed a lot. It changed you, your classmates, and the world. But, through it all one thing stuck with you:

What if someone helped Tenko Shimura?

How different would his life have been? How different would history have spun? 

You graduated at the top of your class and joined the faculty at Chiba Prefectural Preparatory School for Quirk Specialties two years ago. 

Chiba Prep was opened eight years ago in response to a societal cry for more infrastructure around what was dubbed "non-conforming quirks": a nice way to say quirks that can injure, maim, or kill. Maybe even all three on a bad day. Some parents still see their child being labeled as a non-conforming quirk user in the national database as akin to social suicide. 

You see it differently.

Your quirk allows you to manipulate emotions — anger, sadness, betrayal, love, hatred. If you can feel it, you can sink it into another's psyche deep enough to drive them to act. You can even imbue things with feelings. For example, a cup of warm milk can transform into more than just a simple comfort, now it can hold the feeling of home and safety, or even exhaustion strong enough to put even the biggest foe to rest. 

You could easily use your quirk with nefarious intent. 

You could steep hatred in someone's bone so deep it drives them to harm themselves. You could sew fury so solid into someone's mind it drives them to violence. 

Just a touch and you can control others with something so intrinsically personal it only exists within themselves: their feelings.

What makes you any different from little Asuke, a shy little girl with a quirk that allows her to see people's greatest fears, and then manifest and control them? You're convinced she can use this for good, if only with practice. In your mind, her future is bright and glimmering. Perhaps she will become a therapist, focusing on exposure therapy? Or, maybe the most prolific horror novelist in their time? 

Or, bright and sunny Tao — a transplant whose parents sought out Chiba Prep's specialized education — whose heteromorphic quirk makes his bodily fluids, namely saliva, eat through nearly anything but his own biologics. A sneeze is quickly the most dangerous thing in the world for the cheery, lizard-bodied class clown. 

He's just a boy given a quirk that needs more care. 

He isn't a villain-in-training. 

None of them are.

It's important to teach them that young — and as their teacher for Year 3 of their elementary schooling, you aim to hammer that in as much as possible. They deserve to feel normal. To feel loved and supported. They aren't scary, they're children. 

So, you take it upon yourself to insist on pushing for privileges like field trips. There aren't many public spaces that welcome the classes of Chiba Prep with open arms. Over the years, there have been plenty of incidents. But, a day trip into the city to visit Tokyo's Hall of Heroes is green-lit with bubbling excitement from both faculty, the children, and their parents. 

You usually keep your history as a graduated member of Class 1-A quiet. 

After all, you never did go pro.

And even still, Shoto Todoroki never stopped thinking about you.

He remembers that weekend everyone moved back in for their last year before graduation. He remembers you smiling at him, and helping him drag up a duffel of luggage from the common room to his dorm. You made a joke about how you're sure he got taller over the summer, and how his hair is longer now. You said you liked it. 

It was the beginning of the end, then.

His crush was a silent, smothering thing. It made it hard to think. Shoto had enough on his plate thanks to Touya's acceptance into the Villain Rehabilitation Program and his father's insistence on staving off retirement. Not to mention his parent's divorce — no matter how amicable, it was still a separation. Add on training, tests, studying, finals, and j-term classes... And a desperate, writhing, burning crush on the nicest girl in class? 

Touya's elbow digs into Shoto's side.

It drags him back to reality — to the stifled quiet of the historical Hall of Heroes. 

Suddenly, the doors to the wing squeak open, and a tour guide ushers in the elementary school class. The buzzing excitement and wonder are visible on each of their faces as the attendant — one of the HoH's lead tour guides — excitedly explains the newest, in-progress addition to the Hall:

Endeavor's wing. 

There's a whisper of awe that ripples through the children as their teacher and co-teacher follow, and as the class moves through the large, open space. They're staring up eagerly at the gilded statue in the center of the room. It's larger than life and intimidating. Years ago, Shoto might have had to fight the odd tremble in his knees at the reminder it brings: to be small in his father's shadow again. But, things are different now. 

Very different.

Touya scoffs. "I thought this wing wasn't open to the public yet."

"They're just children," Shoto hums, turning his back on the gaggle across the way to inspect the large mural winding along the back end of the installation, "I'm sure it's—"

"Oh, ho, no way!"

Shoto quirks his brow at his brother's outburst. His elbow digs into Shoto's ribs again. 

"Ain't that the pretty girl you never got the balls to ask out your senior year?" comes the rasped drawl of his older brother's voice. Touya is clearly amused, his white hair hanging in his eyes as he leans forward to squint, "She is cute, Sho'—"

"Shut up," Shoto grits, turning his head over his shoulder; he tries to bite back the flurry of nerves that ignite in his gut, "Stop talking."

It is you.

You look... good. 

Happy. 

You're crouched by a small, timid girl in the back of the crowd. Your hand is in hers, and you're pointing upwards at the large paneled screens replaying Endeavor's most historic fights. You're explaining something to her, your knees bent as you squat. You look... the same. As if in the six years since they graduated, you sat still in time. 

For a second, it's like he's seventeen again.

It's his senior year, and he's stuck at the corner of the gym's edge with a half-empty glass of punch in his hand. The lights are low, and there's slow music playing. His tie feels too tight. Bakugo keeps telling him to 'ask her to dance already', and Kirishima is considering bashing his head through the wall. Even Midorya is trying to persuade Shoto. 

"It's prom, man! C'mon, this could be your last chance—"

Touya is about to be a real pain in the ass — his favorite pastime — and make some comment about your ass, but when he turns to lob the one-liner at his baby brother, Shoto's gone.

Shoto is on the move.

The crescendo of gasps draws your attention first.

Then, the cry of "WOAH, IT'S SHOTO!" leaves you dumbfounded. The rippling murmur of excitement bleeds into the children as their eyes — and the eyes of the tour guide — widen at the sight of the approaching Pro Hero. 

Shoto Todoroki.

He looks... good. 

Really good.

He's a bit older, and a bit more filled out than when you were both teenagers. You can see the strength in his arms and shoulders — it's a distant echo of his father's physique, though Shoto is so much more elegant and much... prettier. He's always been.

For a second, you're seventeen again.

It's your senior year, and you're sprawled across Momo Yaoyorozu's bed.

They had finally wrangled out of you who your crush was: something they hadn't been able to do in all their years as classmates.

There's a sticky, Miss Midnight-themed face mask clinging to your expression as you try to flip through the large magazine in your hands as nonchalantly as possible. Mina's voice, as she paints Ochaco's nails a bright pink on the floor, is sweet and saccharine as she looks up at you.

"I think you and Shoto would be, like, the cutest couple ever." 

You're still crouched when the tour guide nervously — like she was caught doing something naughty — introduces The Pro Hero Shoto to the already-aware crowd of elementary school students and their teachers. It's like igniting a match; the uproar of excitement leaves you laughing as three of your boys push forward to bombard him with questions about his quirk. 

Asuke is smiling shyly, now. That's a small win. She's intrigued by the appearance of a real hero, not the "scary statues" — and her big, fat tears stopped rolling the moment you laid a gentle hand on her to quell her anxiety over the new environment with a push of comfort through your quirk. She unhooks her pinkie finger from yours as you guide her towards your co-teacher. 

"Boys," you call with a crisp air of authority as you stand and lead Asuke toward the bulk of the field trip group, "What have we learned about personal space?"

"It's fine, really, Insight," comes Shoto's voice; as warm and placid as you remember. 

"Insight?" mutters your co-teacher at the presumed hero-name; a look of confusion plasters itself on her face, and her big, feline ears perk up. She leans in to whisper in a way that borders on conspiratory, "Do you two know one another?"

"Old classmates," you confirm, not daring to get into the finer details.

Shoto's attention is entirely rooted in the way you manage the kids. There's something beautiful about the ease with which you handle the bouquet of students; you quell the excitement into a manageable decibel like it's as easy as breathing. 

"Shoto," you start as you gesture to him, "Has a very special quirk — Toyamai, he has ice like you. And, fire like Tojiro. He can regulate his temperature. Can anyone tell me what that means?"

There's a wave of hands shooting up, a few me, me, me's rise from the gaggle. 

You're using him as a teaching moment.

Shoto's smile is soft.

You nod at Ogomi, excitedly nodding as the reserved child speaks up. Normally, he hates public speaking. But, recently, he's started working with the speech pathologist during lunch. The boy bounces a little as he answers. "He doesn't g-get too hot, or too c-cold."

"Exactly! Isn't that cool?" you grin at the lazy attempt at a pun, "This is why it's important to learn about our quirks as much as we can!"

Touya thinks this whole thing is just too cute. 

You're different than he remembers — but, granted, things were sorta different last time he saw you. He was a little too busy tryna kill his old man and lil' Shoto. He's different now, too. A changed man! A real licensed hero. Support items and all. 

He hangs back. 

He... I mean, he is a jack-ass but he isn't gonna ruin this for Shoto. 

...It's kinda cute.

Just about as cute as Fuyumi said it was. 

Apparently, Shoto had opened up to her and Natsuo about his feelings after graduation — about how he regretted not doing anything about it. Fuyumi then told their mum, who then off-handedly mentioned it to Touya... and well Touya dug in because, duh, he is a whore for good gossip. He might be the family's black sheep, but Shoto is the glue that binds. 

And he deserves to be happy.

Your co-teacher is ushering the kids to the next installation — a viewing of All Might's Legacy, a new documentary following the retired pro's teaching career. It will be a good wind down for them, in comfy seats and the dark. It's hardly the sort of content an elementary school student would find riveting, but it is All Might. And they love him.

You hang back. 

Shoto's heart is hammering in his chest.

"Hey."

"Hi," you greet back, closing the door to the theater and stepping forward as you weave your arms around you, "Long time no see."

"Yea," Shoto breathes, his hands in his pockets as he meets you halfway across the museum's marble floors, "I... I see you're teaching."

His eyes are as pretty as they were back then. Slate grey and piercing turquoise. "I'm in my second year," you confirm softly, fiddling with the material of your sweater, "Congrats to your old man."

You gesture up at the statue, then wave around to the rest of the installation.

Shoto inhales, then nods; he's staring at your face, blissfully realizing you're just the way you were all those years ago. Kind. "I'll pass it along."

"How's he handling it?" you ask, your eyes raking across his expression and trying not to stick to the sharp slope of his jaw, or the bob of his Adam's apple, "Retirement, I mean."

"He's happy, I think. Touya and I are working together and... things are...  good."

Last month, Endeavor finally retired. He cited his age, and his dedication to passing his legacy to his two sons: Shoto and Touya. Shoto has planted himself firmly within the Top Ten in the last year or so, and shockingly, Touya isn't far behind. People love an underdog's redemption story, you suppose. 

And the underdog in question can read a room. 

This is getting a little too sexually tense for even him.

"Heeeeey, girl," he rasps out, staggering backward with a thumb over his shoulder, "Nice t' see ya. I'll let you two catch up, yea? I'm gonna go pop my head into the theater, see how the kids are handling the snooze fest on screen—"

You jump.

How long has he even been there?

"Hi, D— Touya," you strain, wincing a little; the rehab'd villain doesn't seem to mind.

"Hi, teach'. That cool with you?" he asks, wobbling his thumb and quirking a pierced eyebrow; it's comical, like he's trying to disarm you with humor, "Don't want you thinkin' I'm corrupting your youths—"

"It's fine," you breathe, ignoring the sting of age-old mistrust. You know better. Shoto wouldn't be here, with him, if Touya Todoroki hadn't changed. Endeavor wouldn't be entrusting his legacy to the ex-League of Villain member if he didn't believe in his capacity for good, "Just don't be disruptive."

Casting judgment on someone whose life was nearly destroyed by his own non-conforming quirk would go against everything you taught the kids anyway.

"Touya's whole thing is being disruptive," Shoto grits as his oldest brother slips silently through the doors, "I apologize for him—"

"No," you wave him off, laughing a little, "Don't. It's... nice to see you two together."

Shoto's expression is soft as he wanders a little closer. "It took time — and a lot of therapy — but we've all managed to come out the other side."

"That's great to hear, Shoto," you breathe, your eyes flitting across his face, "I'm really happy for you."

There's a long silence, then — and you can't help but ignore the roil of butterflies in your stomach. The eye contact is heavy with some unspoken thing, and both of your tongues are weighted by secrets-never-turned-confessions. 

It's like finally this dance you've been doing around one another for years breaks — and the two of you throw caution to the wind at the exact same moment. 

"Would you like to—"

"Are you free—"

Hesitant, slow grins bloom on both your faces.

"Dinner?" is all he manages after a sweet moment of soaking up your soft smile, "If you're available...?"

You make yourself available.

Yaoyorozu almost dies when you call her that night — winded from tearing through your entire wardrobe. You explained you had nothing to wear a-and you needed something nice, and you only have an hour to get ready, because Todoroki — yes, stop screaming, Todoroki — is picking you up at 8pm.

Little bro is nervous. Touya can tell. 

From his spot on the sofa, the white-haired ex-degenerate scoffs. Natsuo is digging around for some cufflinks in Shoto's dresser.

"Seriously, Sho'? A suit?" 

"It's a nice restaurant," his brother says tightly, adjusting the collar of the black button-down, "I booked the upstairs dining room for privacy." 

"Who the hell told you t' do that?" Touya quirks a skeptical brow.

"Father was the one who suggested it."

"...That old dog." 

Natsuo rolls his eyes at the exchange before throwing his hands as he emerges from the closet. "Do you have any links that aren't emblazoned with U.A. High School's crest?"

The ones in Natsuo's hands have his graduation year on them.

Shoto winces.

"Want me to ask dear ol' dog of a dad?" Touya snarks from the corner, his posture becoming less and less upright as he scrolls on his phone.

"Already did," comes the soft voice of Fuyumi; she's smiling, padding into Shoto's room with a velvet box, "He offered up his nicest pair. He also says not to screw it up with Insight. He likes her."

Of course, he likes her. You worked under Endeavor for a brief work-study period during your third year. Shoto remembers hearing grumbled praise over dinner one night about your talent for de-escalation.

"You told him who I was seeing?" Shoto asks incredulously, taking the box and working the cufflinks on. He's starting to feel exasperated.

Fuyumi nods, popping down beside Touya. 

"He asked. I'm not gonna lie to him."

"Did y' tell ma?" Touya rasps, peeking up over his phone to inspect Shoto's outfit. Not half bad, honestly. He looks good in all black. A man after his own heart, "M'sure she's gonna be real excited—"

"Yes," Shoto grumbles, "I called her earlier—"

"Chiba Prep is a really good school, y'know," Natsuo buts in as he tries to find a tie that matches Shoto's outfit. Ultimately, though, the middle brother decides against it and tosses the options over his shoulder, "They're, like, on the leading edge for quirk therapies."

"Hey, nerd? Quiet down. The big kids are gossiping," Touya shirks, turning back to Shoto, "What did mum say?" 

"She wants me to call her after—"

"One, you're gonna call mum the morning after," Touya raises a finger, "Because if you don't get laid, I'll be so fuckin' disap—"

Fuyumi slaps Touya's chest. He lets out a pained yelp at the solid smack.

"Uh, ow," he rubs his sternum. "An' two, take a deep breath. You look like you're gonna shit yourself. Those are my pants and they're expensive."

Shoto lets out a long breath. 

Fuyumi's smile is sweet like honey. "Aw, Sho'! It's gonna go great. You two have known each other for such a long time, and catching up is going to be amazing. Just be yourself! Confident and kind—"

"—Hold the door open for her, and pull her chair out," Natsuo adds as he adjusts Shoto's collar for him, "Car door, too—"

It's Touya's turn. He's dead serious. "—And do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night. I swear to god."

Easier said than done.

You never did go pro.

Those years of hardened battle instincts have lost their edge. You try to remind yourself this is just Shoto, not The Shoto — but you're a little lost in the whole celebrity of it all when he picks you up in a very nice, sporty little car with ENDVRplates. 

You answer the door and he forgets how to breathe.

He has flowers for you. They're blue and blooming and beautiful. 

Fuyumi's contribution. 

You settled then you were going to kiss him at the end of the night.

The restaurant is... nice. Really nice. The sort of nice you could never aspire to experience on your teacher's salary. Even the valet is a concept that has your head spinning. But, Shoto handles it all with cool ease. The entire time, his hand is settled on your lower back. 

It feels like you've been lit on fire.

You're glad Momo was able to create a dress fitting for the occasion. It's sleek and black. Comfortable, too. Not much can be said for your heels on that front, but it's fine. 

Somehow, Shoto managed to book the entire upper floor of this place in all its glimmering glory — it's just the two of you alone in a sea of tables. 

The waiter is pouring you a glass of the chef's suggested pairing of sake.

You thank him, smile, and take a sip as Shoto unbuttons his suit jacket and watches you. 

For a second, you're seventeen again.

Sero and Kirishima were always in cahoots when it came to parties back then — somehow, between the two of them, they always managed to smuggle enough booze onto campus to obliterate any semblance of promised sobriety from even the most stoic members of 1-A. 

You remember one night, after a lot of hounding, you finally gave in and joined a few of your classmates on the back lawn for a few drinks. 

A few beers turned into a cup or two of wine, and then another big gulp of whatever deranged jungle juice concoction Kaminiari managed to cook up. It tasted terrible, but you were too drunk to really care. Shoto was no better. He was nursing his fourth drink of the night — a rarity he was even drinking at all — and seemed completely fine with the way your arms brushed as the two of you sat close in the grass. 

He was always so nervous around you. Now, he just seemed... happy. 

"I can't believe there is only one week left until graduation."

Graduation day was the last time you saw him. 

Until this morning, that is. 

You smile into your drink. 

"What?" you ask when his eyes never leave your face.

His fingers twitch towards his own glass. Shoto blinks, then rolls his jaw. He was caught staring. He clears his throat, looking a bit shy. "Nothing."

"Nothing?" you press playfully, cocking your head to the side.

"You..." he starts, then bawks. You're stunning, and it's making it hard to even think straight. He thought these feelings might have mellowed out over the years but seeing you again has just reignited everything. He feels like a hormonal teenager again, "You look beautiful."

Your expression falters into something lovesick. You chew your lip. "You're not so bad yourself, Todoroki."

He manages a half-smile. "Touya had me worried the suit was a bit much."

The idea of Touya offering him advice on his outfit strikes a chord in your heart. It makes you smile even bigger than before. "Well, you can tell Touya that I like it. A lot."

You rake your eyes up and down him. On purpose.

He notices.

Shoto's face feels hot. 

He tries to shake the bone-deep want that has swept his entire body up in its grip, but it's difficult when every single word out of your mouth reminds him just how in love he was with you back in school. You explain, excitedly, why you chose to teach at Chiba Prefectural Prep and catch him up on where you've been living since graduating. He's pleased to learn you're still in the area, living in the city, and decidedly in love with the commute to the school. 

Shoto's always been a good listener — but you can see how much he's changed when he begins to speak about his career. He seems so much more sure of himself than he was all those years ago. It wasn't that he was... unsure... but, no. He was shy. Quiet.

Now, less so. 

It's adorable. 

Dinner comes and goes with conversation over sushi that is far too good for you to even process. It's easy talking to him. It was easy talking to Shoto back, then, too but... Things are different. You're both different. Not in a bad way, but in a way that feels like coming home. 

While you both wait outside for the valet, Shoto shrugs his jacket off and puts it over your shoulders without a single word. Suddenly, you're cradled in a warmth that's very Shoto — his cologne clings to the collar and you bury yourself a little deeper into it. 

Shyly, you step closer and steal his hand. It's calloused and warm. He laced his fingers with yours as if practiced. You bite back a grin. You give his hand a little squeeze when you spot the car coming around the corner.

His silence is calming — and he squeezes your hand back. When you look up at him, you realize he's already looking at you. 

His face is close. It's so... intimate. Very. Nearly better than a kiss. 

But, you've wanted to kiss Shoto Todoroki since you were seventeen. 

The valet driver interrupts the moment with a respectful call of Shoto's name and offers the keys with a shake of the hand. With a little bit of hesitancy, Shoto remembers the thing Natsuo said — the car door, too — and moves around the passenger side to open the door for you. 

It's sweet.

Really sweet. 

The car ride back to your apartment is punctuated with easy conversation — you ask him about Bakugo and Midorya, and you're pleased to hear they're both doing well. He asks about Momo, and if you still keep in touch with Mina and Ochaco. He smiles to himself when you admit you did call Momo for help with an outfit. 

"She did a beautiful job," Shoto breathes, a palm moving from the gear shift to brush over the dress' fabric on your thigh.

His hand settles there. 

Your stomach does a flip. 

You chew your lip, swallow down a sudden burst of nerves, and let your hand rest over his. You squeeze it. Shoto tries to focus on the road. His gaze drifts for a moment at a red light, his heterochromatic eyes dancing across your figure. 

Keep it together. 

He isn't seventeen.

He's twenty-five. He's a Professional Hero. One of the Top Ten in all of Japan. He's more than capable of keeping it together in the face of physical touch from the woman he's dreamed about for years. 

...Right?

Green light.

His hand is still on your thigh when he pulls up to your apartment. 

The touch is relinquished in favor of putting the sports car in park. 

It makes your chest ache.

Shoto swallows thickly.

Do not chicken out on kissing her at the end of the night.

He'll never forgive himself. But, admittedly, he's bad at this. He's not good at reading body language, or even knowing himself enough to realize he looks mildly terrified as you blink up at him in the passenger's seat. His heart is hammering a mile a minute.

What if you don't want to kiss him?

When would he even kiss you? Now? Or at the door?

Why does he feel like he's going to die?

"This was really... Shoto, are you okay?" you ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt; you pause, your brows knitting tightly. 

"What?" he asks, blinking back to the present moment. The look of fear disappears, "Sorry. Yes. I'm fine."

You're working his jacket off your shoulders, gently leaning to fold it neatly in your lap. Your voice dips low, into something playful. "You didn't look fine..."

"I—" Shoto clamps his mouth shut as he leans an elbow on the center console, "Sorry. I suppose I'm just nervous."

"Nervous?" you grin, a little giggle punctuating your words as you wriggle in the red, leather seat, "Why?"

Your expression makes his expression crack. He ducks his head as he huffs out a laugh. You continue to egg him on via expression alone. "I... Stop it."

"Stop what?" you push some more, your back pressed to the door as you face him in the car, "You're the one being weird—"

"I'm not being weird—"

"Then what's wrong, Shoto?" you tease in a sing-song voice.

"I'm nervous because I want to kiss you."

His words are punctuated by a slow look that takes in every inch of your face. Butterfly wings kiss your stomach walls. And your knees. You feel a little tremble in your chest. 

It feels like someone has sucker punched you square in the sternum. Shoto's no better. He isn't entirely sure what the expression on your face means. Is that... good? Are you happy?

Your voice is a little quieter now. You duck your head and fiddle with his suit jacket as you lean back against the seat, a little closer now. 

"You don't need to be."

Shoto's breath catches at that.

So, he makes his move.

His hand comes first — his calloused palm settles nicely against your face, his thumb brushing your cheekbone as his pointer finger brushes the underside of your jaw. Shoto is slow. Methodical. It's like he's trying to ground himself in the moment. 

Truth be told, he thinks he might be blacking out.

Your eyes flit up his wrist — a dark leather band around his wrist with an expensive watch face, a dark dress shirt with glimmering cufflinks, strong arms and a broad chest, and you can see the dip of his collarbone where the top two buttons of his shirt remain undone. 

He looks so damn handsome with his sharp jaw, pretty eyes, and his trademark white and crimson hair. Even his scar is beautiful. 

The touch pulls you in like he's got his own personal orbit.  

Your elbows are braced along the center console, your eyes flicking across his face as his fingers continue to brush along the soft expanse of your cheek. You wring your fingers together. 

Then, his eyes stick to your lips.

"Can I kiss you?" he whispers, his breath fanning across your face. 

You never did go pro.

But, Shoto did. 

It shows. 

Because, at this moment, all you can do is nod feebly before you're swept into the sort of kiss people go to war for. It's the sort of kiss that sticks to your ribs, that feels like warm, fresh food. It's the sort of kiss that would drive you to the brink, that would make you nod and agree sure, let's get married and have three kids, let's name one after your father, and paint the house blue like your mother's favorite flower—

His mouth is eager, but not in an overbearing way. It's gentle. Slow. As if he needs to remind himself this is real and not some midnight fiction that leaves him aching and alone. Shoto reminds himself to be tepid, pliable, and easy, which is easier said than done when somewhere deep inside of him there's a seventeen-year-old screaming in victory. 

It's better than anything he could have ever imagined. 

And then you whimper. 

It's a sound tied between bliss and relief and it's muttered against his mouth as you lean in and let your fingers brush the fabric of his dress shirt. The tips of your fingers brush his abdomen and he flexes, the feeling foreign and warm. It warrants his other hand to drift to your face and you break for a breath; he doesn't care that there's lipstick smeared across his mouth. He's kissing you again — this time a little bit more feverish, a little bit more aching. 

You melt against him, this time your hands trembling to grip his wrists.

He needs to slow down.

He is not having sex with you in his father's car.

That's shameless.

He needs to slow down.

He has to, or he'll lose himself in this and he refuses to fuck this up. 

Shoto's breath is ragged when he finally peels himself away, his lip parted and eyes half-lidded. His grip on your face is still so soft, so gentle. It's very him. 

You're glad you didn't do this when you were seventeen.

It would have permanently altered your brain chemistry, you're sure of it. How could you ever kiss someone else again after that? 

He's rubbing your cheek with his thumb. You swallow, and try to level out your breathing. It's hard when he's still so close, when he's so... perfect. 

"I've wanted to do that," he murmurs against your cheek, "Since our last year at Yuei."

A well-kissed smile breaks across your face. You reel back, your nose wrinkling as you shake your head in disbelief. Shoto is smiling. A real smile. The sort that's so rare you can count on one hand the amount of times you've ever seen it in person. 

"Are you serious?"

"Very," he says, chastely pressing another to your other cheek as he leans back.

"Me too," you admit shyly, "Can we... do it again sometime?"

Shoto's eyes widen incrementally. Then, his smile eases back onto his face. 

"Are you free this weekend?"

"I can be," you reply easily with a honeyed look, "And I will be. For you."

"I get off patrol on Saturday around seven," he explains before asking timidly, "We could... do dinner again?"

"Works for me," you breathe as you move for the handle of the car door, "After all, I never went Pro. Weekends are free."

Shoto scoffs. 

Then, as you open the door and swing a leg out:

"Oh, and tell Touya I thought the suit sexy."

Shoto's laugh is dry. You leave his jacket on the seat and scurry into your apartment with a lovesick wave. He swears he sees the silhouette of a familiar ponytail greet you at the door, but he doesn't dwell on it. He waits until you're inside and the lights to the front door are shut off.

Then it hits him. He has another date with you this weekend. 

Not so seventeen anymore, Shoto Todoroki. 

[strangelittlestories]

After the occupation, the princess was confined to the palace.

Once a month she'd be taken on a walk around the city, heavily guarded of course, to show the people that she still lived. It also served, of course, as a reminder of what they stood to lose if they made trouble. The princess did her best go wave and smile and give the people what encouragement she could.

The rest of the time, her life was spent in musty rooms and dusty towers. She filled most of her time scouring the castle for materials which she would sew into more and more elaborate outfits, which she would show off on the days when she was allowed outside.

Indeed, the public loved their princess and her dresses so much they'd often sketch or paint them along the route and pass the images on so that all could see the princess at least was well.

This pleased the occupiers for two reasons. First: it kept the princess out of trouble. Second: it gave them a reason to sneer and they did love a good sneer.

"What a vain creature she is!" They would remark.

"Doesn't even care we murdered her brothers so long as she gets enough satin to make her little dresses!" They squawked.

This was unfair, of course, for to call her creations "little dresses" was to call Queen Murderfun the Needlessly Genocidal "a tad piquey". Her dresses were gravity-defying wonders lace and pearl. They were thunderstorms captured in velvet and waterfalls summoned in silk. She was a wizard with silk.

Still, she bore their mockery with a tight smile and careful deference.

"Please, good sirs, my home, my people and my city now belong to you. Let me keep, at least, this one last joy."

And they sneered and they crowed most unpleasantly, but they let her keep her sewing room.

Of course, they would have known their mockery to be doubly unfair had they realised the true purpose of the princess's elaborate designs. For hidden in the intricate embroiderings across her gowns, jackets and fans, the princess had encoded secret (and very detailed) messages. When she would go on her monthly walk, the city's loyalists would line the route, sketching down the patterns to decode later.

Thus did the princess transmit all the occupiers' secrets (unearthed while supposedly 'searching the castle for old fabrics') to the city and thus did she build her resistance.

On the day the revolution finally came, she girded herself in armour of thick spider silk and whale bone. She cut a fine figure with a lacy handkerchief in her top pocket and a razor sharp knitting needle keeping her hair up.

As she waltzed through the castle to open the door for her army, the Usurper King tried to stop her and she simply unfolded her handkerchief and showed it to him.

Upon seeing the impossible arcane pattern emblazoned across it, he fell to the floor with blood streaming from his eyes.

She always had been a wizard with silk.

---

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