#turns into another guy but the long shoujo legs just make him look even more skinny and twink-ish

[dnangelic]

for every guy with huge muscles daisuke makes friends with he hopelessly drinks another glass of milk

[queenkeesi]

Sy-on Boy and the Teenage Anya Incident

—

It was a sunny day at Eden Academy, but the usual carefree atmosphere was clouded by the anxious energy in a small alcove where third graders Damian Desmond, Emile Elman, and Ewen Egeburg were huddled together.

“Bossman, are you sure about this?” Emile asked, his face scrunched up with worry.

While it wasn’t unusual for the three friends to concoct wild schemes, thanks to the ridiculous amount of resources at their disposal—being the children of obscenely wealthy parents—this time, it seemed like they might have taken things a bit too far.

“Yeah, Boss, this seems… kinda crazy,” Ewen added, his pompadour bobbing as he nervously adjusted it.

“Will you two just shut up?!” Damian snapped, frustration clear in his voice. He held up the items he’d painstakingly gathered—a rusty key, a quail’s egg, and a blue marble. “It’s gonna work, alright?”

“Uh, but what if you like… get old but not taller?” Ewen asked, scratching his head.

“Or worse,” Emile shuddered dramatically, “what if you turn into an old man?!”

“Stop being such morons!” Damian hissed, his eyes narrowing. “I’m not going to turn into an old man! I’ve got the circle, I’ve got the spell, I’ve got everything under control!”

Damian was fuming inside. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t outshine his older brother, Demetrius. Demetrius had just been awarded another honor for being the top student in the ninth grade. It was like the universe was rigged against Damian, and he was fed up. Six years ahead—what a joke. So, Damian had decided to close that gap, using a spell from an old book he’d “borrowed” from the Desmond estate library. Today was the day he’d make everything right.

“Now, I just need to stand here and read the passage,” Damian declared, his voice tinged with the kind of determination only a kid with a grudge could muster.

The chalk circle on the ground was a crooked mess, with lines smudged and uneven from where one of them had accidentally stepped. It was the kind of circle that only a group of overconfident third graders could draw—something they thought looked cool, even though it was totally lopsided.

Before Damian could start, a high-pitched voice pierced the air. “Beckyyyyyy!”

Anya Forger’s voice rang out as she bolted across the grass, her little legs pumping furiously as she chased after Becky Blackbell, who was clutching a photo of Anya’s father, Loid, like it was the crown jewels. “Oh my god, Anya, this new photo of Loid! I must keep it!” Becky squealed, too busy swooning over the picture to watch where she was going.

“But you have so many already! And he’s married!” Anya yelled back, their voices growing louder as they closed in.

“Oof!” Becky smacked right into Emile and Ewen, sending them both stumbling backward.

“Hey, watch it!” Emile yelped, juggling the marble like it was about to explode.

“Seriously, Becky! You almost messed up the circle!” Ewen groaned, looking at the chalk lines, now even more crooked thanks to Becky.

“What circle?” Becky asked, staring down at the haphazard chalk drawing. “What kind of dumb stuff are you guys up to?”

Just then, Damian finished reading the passage, his voice rising with excitement. He looked up just in time to see Anya charging toward him like a mini bulldozer. “Sy-on boy!” she shouted, crashing into him with enough force to knock him out of the circle and flat on his back. The next thing they knew, thick pink smoke billowed from the circle, swirling around them all in a chaotic cloud.

As the smoke slowly cleared, the four kids stood frozen, their eyes wide with shock. The figure emerging from the mist wasn’t the eight-year-old Anya they knew—it was a stunning fifteen-year-old version of her. It was like something out of a shoujo manga, complete with glitter, a pink glow, and rose petals fluttering around her. Her short, playful pink bob had grown into long, flowing waves, framing her face with a soft, ethereal beauty. She had high cheekbones, delicate features, and eyes that seemed to hold a depth far beyond her years. The girl who used to eat dog food and play with bugs had transformed into a young lady of grace and poise, standing tall and confident in an Imperial Scholar’s cloak that shimmered in the sunlight.

Damian’s jaw practically hit the ground. Anya was taller—way taller—than he was now. He had to crane his neck just to look up at her. She’s… taller than me?! The thought alone sent his usual bravado into a tailspin of confusion and panic. The girl who used to wear mismatched socks and make goofy faces was now… stunning. Everything about her radiated an effortless charm that left Damian feeling oddly exposed and vulnerable.

Anya blinked her now clearer, more mature eyes as she took in her surroundings. “Where am I?” she asked, her voice smooth and confident, startling the boys with its new, rich tone. Even her voice had changed—it wasn’t the high-pitched, eager sound of a child but a melodic, calm voice that seemed to command attention without even trying.

Her gaze landed on Damian first, and her eyes widened in recognition. “W-what? Damian? Emile? Ewen? Becky?!”

Becky, ever the dramatic one, was the first to react. “Anya? Is that you? You’re all grown up!”

Damian was still speechless, his brain struggling to keep up with what was happening. He felt a strange, unfamiliar sensation in his chest—something that made him feel flustered in a way he wasn’t used to. She’s got an Imperial Scholar’s cloak on… is she even real? And why did the height difference make everything feel so much weirder?

“Yeah, it’s me,” Anya said, her voice laced with uncertainty. “Why are all of you so young? One minute I was just outside with…” Her eyes met Damian’s, and she hesitated, “And now you’re like, seven?”

“Hey! I’m not seven!” Damian snapped, finally finding his voice. “I’m eight, thankyouverymuch! And I was supposed to age up, not you!”

“S-Syon boy…” Anya muttered, her eyes wide as she stared at him. He mistook her shock for something else and was about to tell her off when she suddenly squealed with delight.

“Oh my god, you’re so small and cute!!” Without warning, Anya grabbed him and pulled him into a tight hug, squeezing him so hard he could barely breathe. Damian’s face turned an even deeper shade of red as he struggled in her grasp, completely overwhelmed by the sudden physical contact—and the fact that she was now taller and holding him like he was the little one.

When Anya finally let go, Damian was left sputtering, his heart racing as Emile and Ewen rushed over to check on him.

“Are you okay, Bossman?” Emile asked, barely able to hide a grin.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine!” Damian snapped, his voice cracking as he tried to regain his composure. “Just… get off me next time, Stubby Legs!”

Meanwhile, Becky was circling Anya in awe. “Oh my god, Anya, you look amazing! You’re like, a woman now! Your hair! Your outfit! And you’re an Imperial Scholar! Does your cloak have diamonds sewn in?!”

Anya blushed and looked down shyly. “Oh, no, no. But you did alter it, though, Becky.”

“Wait, wait, wait!” Becky interrupted, her eyes wide with realization. “So you’re from the future! That means you can tell us about ourselves! Do I have a boyfriend? Do I have a lot of guys who like me? Am I still stylish? Do I still look pretty?”

Anya couldn’t help but smile at Becky’s enthusiasm. “Yes, yes, yes, yes, and yes,” she answered, watching as Becky squealed and spun around in a giddy circle. Even Anya’s smile was different now—more serene and composed, a reflection of the confidence she’d gained over the years. She wasn’t the clumsy girl who tripped over her own feet but someone who had clearly come into her own, with an air of sophistication that made her seem almost otherworldly.

“What about me? Do I have a girlfriend?” Ewen asked, his curiosity getting the better of him.

“Yes,” Anya chuckled, making Ewen’s face light up with excitement.

“Oh, oh, me next! Do I have a girlfriend?” Emile asked eagerly.

“No…” Anya replied, watching Emile’s face fall slightly before she added with a playful grin, “But only because you haven’t asked anyone yet!”

Emile’s mood instantly lifted, and he beamed at her. “Awesome! So I just gotta ask someone out. Cool!”

“What about Lord Dami—” Ewen began, but Damian, now boiling with frustration, shoved him aside.

“I don’t care about that stuff!” Damian growled, his frustration boiling over as he desperately tried to regain control of the situation. “But what I don’t get is how you’re still at Eden! If you’re really this old, shouldn’t you have been expelled or something by now?” He glanced over at Emile and Ewen, his voice rising, almost pleading for backup.

But Emile just shrugged. “I dunno, Boss. She seems like she’s got it together.”

“Yeah,” Ewen added, nodding nervously. “She’s got the Eden high school uniform on, plus the Imperial Scholar cloak. She’s probably super smart or something.”

Damian’s irritation spiked as he stared at them in disbelief, his face flushing with frustration. How can they be so gullible? he thought, feeling his composure slip away. It’s like they’ve never even thought about what high school is really like!

Anya chuckled softly, her eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and empathy as she saw Damian’s mounting frustration. “I guess we all change then,” she said, her tone gentle but with a playful edge.

“Hmph! I doubt I’d socialize with the likes of you by then, Forger,” Damian shot back, crossing his arms and stomping his foot like a child on the brink of a meltdown. “It’s only because they make us do kiddy stuff that we have to deal with each other now.” ‘That’ll show her’, he thought, his heart racing.

“Oh, no, all five of us are friends,” Anya said casually, the remark so offhanded and confident that it felt like a punch to Damian’s gut, causing him to stumble back as if her words had physically knocked him over.

Becky gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. “But you and I are still best friends, right?” Her eyes glittered with excitement, already picturing teenage girl shopping trips and sleepovers.

Anya nodded, smiling warmly. “Of course! We just got back from a girls’ holiday in St. Tropezinne.”

Becky started hyperventilating. “Oh my god, really?!”

By this point, Damian had picked himself up, his annoyance turning into a full-blown temper tantrum. “Look, none of us care about your girls’ holiday!”

Ewen and Emile, always eager to chime in, muttered in unison, “We would’ve liked to hear about the food… maybe what the weather was like… if there were other girls…”

“WILL YOU TWO SHUT UP?!” Damian exploded, his face red as he spun back to Anya, pointing at her accusingly. “Y-you!”

Anya stared at him, surprised, her calm, demure expression only making Damian’s heart pound harder, like the Anya from their time always did when she gave him any attention.

“If you’re really from the future, tell me… am I an Imperial Scholar?” he demanded, the question bursting out of him with desperate intensity. He had to know—he HAD to.

Anya’s smile softened, warm and reassuring, which only made Damian’s nerves fray even more. “Of course you are, Damian.”

For a brief moment, relief washed over Damian, filling his chest with a sense of triumph. ‘He was going to be an Imperial Scholar!’

But then Becky, always the one to stir the pot, leaned in, smirking mischievously. “Yeah, but how many Tonitrus Bolts does he have?” she asked, her tone light, clearly intending it as a joke to tease Damian.

Anya paused, tapping her chin thoughtfully. “Four, I think… maybe five… but I’m pretty sure it’s four.”

The words hung in the air like a bomb waiting to explode.

Emile and Ewen gasped dramatically, their eyes wide with terror. “FOUR TONITRUS BOLTS?!” they shrieked in unison, their voices trembling. “LORD DAMIAN?!”

Anya immediately cringed, realizing she had said too much.

Damian’s face drained of color, his earlier relief shattering as the implications hit him like a ton of bricks. His hands balled into fists, his body trembling with the effort to hold back the storm of emotions swirling inside him. “YOU LIAR!” he screamed, his voice cracking with the raw intensity of a little boy on the verge of a meltdown. “I DON’T HAVE BOLTS! HOW DARE YOU SAY THAT! YOU’RE JUST A BIG UGGO WITCH!”

“What is going on here?” a stern voice cut through the chaos. Demetrius Desmond stepped onto the patch of grass where they were gathered. Even at fifteen, he was still as gaunt and serious as ever, his hair slicked back in its usual style, his presence immediately commanding attention and silencing the group.

“Why are you screaming at…” Demetrius began, taking a step back in surprise. “This young lady?” He had expected to see the small Forger kid—someone Damian still shouldn’t be yelling at but always was—but a teenage girl? It was clearly inappropriate.

“Oh, Demetrius…” Anya said, recognizing him immediately. She straightened up and stepped toward him, her height now nearly matching his. The difference in their statures only made Damian feel smaller and more out of place.

“Do I know you…?” Demetrius asked, his usually impassive face showing a rare hint of surprise as he took in Anya’s appearance. She didn’t look like any student he knew, yet there she was, wearing the Eden high school uniform and an Imperial Scholar’s cloak.

“No, well, sort of. I’m Anya…” she began, her voice steady and confident, which only deepened the strange, unsettling feeling in Damian’s gut. Wait! He had started this!

“I took the book of spells and tried to use it to make myself your age!!!” Damian interrupted, his voice high-pitched and strained, as he tried to regain some semblance of control over the situation. This was his idea, after all!

Demetrius sighed, a rare crack in his usual composure as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “I knew you took that book. Jeeves called me—you’ve disappointed him, you know.”

“Yeah…” Damian flushed, having been found out. “I took it, and it was supposed to make me older, but this idiot got in the way!” Damian snapped, his voice cracking as he pointed accusingly at Anya, trying to deflect the blame.

“Wait, wait, so you’re seriously Anya Forger?” Demetrius asked, his sharp eyes narrowing as he studied her closely. A subtle shift in his expression hinted at something more—a faint blush dusted his usually pale cheeks as he added, almost to himself, “I suppose Mother was right…”

Damian’s eyes narrowed, instantly on edge. “Mother was right about what?!”

But before he could demand further explanation, both Anya and Demetrius raised their hands in unison, silencing him in a way that was both infuriating and strangely coordinated.

“Yeah… that’s me,” Anya confirmed, her voice thoughtful as she pieced it together. “I think the spell somehow… pulled me from my own time, where I’m fifteen, to here and now. It must have affected me instead of just aging Damian, which I’m guessing was his intention…” She glanced at Damian before turning back to Demetrius, who nodded as he absorbed the explanation.

The other Eden students stood quietly, unnerved by Anya’s sudden maturity and the calm, almost adult-like demeanor she now exhibited. It was impressive, but it was also deeply unsettling.

“My biggest concern,” Anya continued, “is that the eight-year-old me has switched places with me. Logically, she’s where I last was, which, if my memory serves, was walking home from school. Not the worst place, but definitely not the best.”

Demetrius nodded in agreement, his usually impassive expression softening slightly with concern. “Yeah, this isn’t a great situation, is it?”

Becky gasped, her eyes wide with worry. “Oh no, Anya! I mean, little Anya! Will she be okay?”

The boys exchanged guilty looks, Emile and Ewen both feeling a pang of responsibility as they glanced up at the older Anya and Demetrius.

Damian clenched his fists, trying desperately to mask the worry gnawing at him. He couldn’t help but hope that Anya—stupid and annoying as she was—would be okay. But the tension in his chest only grew as he watched her.

Anya noticed their concern and smiled warmly, attempting to reassure them. “I think she’ll be fine, actually. I was with my boyfriend, so she’s probably with him now. He’ll definitely take care of her.”

The mention of her boyfriend felt like a punch to Damian’s gut, making his fists clench even tighter. Boyfriend? The word echoed in his mind, making the sting of jealousy and frustration almost unbearable.

Becky, ever the curious one, couldn’t resist. “You have a boyfriend?! What’s he like?” she squealed.

A faint blush spread across Anya’s cheeks as her hand moved to fiddle with the chain of her Imperial Scholar’s cloak, her fingers brushing over the elegant design as she thought about him. “Well, he goes to Eden with us and he’s an Imperial Scholar too,” she said softly, clearly lost in the memory.

Damian’s breathing quickened, his frustration boiling over. “How is any of this possible? There’s no way you have a boyfriend, and no way you’re an Imperial Scholar!” he shouted, his voice cracking with disbelief and rising panic.

The others fell silent, the air thick with tension. They all knew that Anya had actually earned more Stella Stars than any of them in the present, yet the idea that she could have surpassed them so much, even in the future, was overwhelming.

Anya didn’t rise to Damian’s taunts. Instead, she simply patted his head, her expression affectionate and almost maternal. “Aw, little Sy-on boy,” she teased, her tone gentle, making Damian hiss in annoyance, his temper flaring.

Demetrius sighed, looking at Damian with a tired expression. “We’ve been over this so many times, Damian. Anyone can become an Imperial Scholar for a great number of reasons.” His little brother’s obsession with it was starting to wear thin.

“Yeah, Bossman! She’s got medals pinned to her cloak too! Look, a tennis one!” Emile pointed out, trying to lighten the mood.

“Ooh, a nebula one! What’s this one for?” Ewen asked eagerly, their voices overly enthusiastic as they admired Anya’s achievements.

Anya sweatdropped, feeling a bit overwhelmed by the kids’ eager, expectant faces all focused on her. “Oh, that’s just from the astronomy club…” she said with a nervous laugh, then quickly shook her head to refocus on the situation. “Demetrius, I know this is all really strange, and I get that you don’t really know me or enjoy working with others, but I really need your help. In the future, we’re more acquainted, and I promise I won’t be a bother.”

“We are? Interesting…” Demetrius pondered. “Very well then, I suppose we can’t just leave little Anya in the future. We should head to my dorm then and leave the kids.”

“What? We can’t help?” Damian’s frustration reached a breaking point. His eyes began to well up with tears he was barely holding back, his face turning red as his emotions spiraled out of control. Not only was Anya older now and benefiting from his plan, but Demetrius, who never solved problems with him, was willing to work with her. His fists clenched tighter, his nails digging into his palms as he fought to keep the tears from falling. ’Why does everyone believe this?! Why does everyone think she’s so amazing?!’ His voice cracked as he tried to speak and he felt the burning sensation behind his eyes intensify as he struggled to keep his composure.

Anya noticed the telltale signs of Damian’s emotional turmoil, and her heart softened. She bent down to his level, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Damian, it’s not that you wouldn’t be helpful,” she said softly, her tone full of understanding. “It’s just that it’ll be easier for Demetrius to help right now since we’re older… I know it’s frustrating, but it doesn’t mean you’re not important.”

Her words were meant to reassure him, but the tension in Damian’s chest only grew tighter. He bit his lip hard, trying to force back the tears, but his voice still trembled when he spoke. “B-but I did this!” he insisted, his voice barely above a whisper, thick with emotion. “I was supposed to be the one who got older! Not you! I—I—” He choked on his words, his eyes brimming with tears that refused to be contained.

Seeing Damian so close to breaking down, Anya’s heart ached. Without a second thought, she pulled him into a gentle hug, wrapping her arms around his tense shoulders. “It’s okay, Damian,” she whispered soothingly. “I know it’s hard, but you’re not alone in this. We’ll figure it out together.”

Damian stiffened in her embrace, desperately trying to hold on to the last shreds of his dignity. He didn’t want to cry—especially not in front of Anya, who seemed so much older and more composed now—but the warmth of her hug and the kindness in her voice made it almost impossible to keep the tears at bay.

Becky, unable to contain her admiration, tried to lift the mood. “Oh my god, she’s so cool!!”

“Wow, yeah, she is cool…” Emile murmured, while Ewen nodded in agreement.

Damian, still reeling from the whirlwind of emotions, could only manage a small nod in response, his fists slowly unclenching as he blinked rapidly, trying to clear the tears from his eyes before they could spill over. The overwhelming mix of embarrassment, anger, and jealousy left him feeling utterly defeated, but he fought to keep himself together, refusing to let his emotions fully show.

“Okay, yeah, let’s just all go,” Demetrius stated, giving in to the plan as the group made their way toward his dormitory, each of them still processing the bizarre events that had unfolded.

---

As they walked through the high school section of the campus, Damian and his friends felt increasingly out of place. The buildings seemed to loom larger, the older students looked impossibly mature, and everything about the high school section felt intimidating. But Anya and Demetrius, both moving with the ease of those who belonged, were completely at home.

Everywhere they went, people stopped and stared at Anya. No one except the kids and Demetrius knew she was actually the eight-year-old Anya Forger; to everyone else, she was a mysterious new girl who had suddenly appeared, radiating confidence and grace. Whispers followed them down the hallways as students speculated about who she might be.

“Looks like everyone notices Anya!” Becky said as she nudged Damian, “bet you don’t think she’s such a stupid uggo now do you?”

Damian rolled his eyes, “No people are staring cause they think she’s weird.”

Emile and Ewen, always eager to join in on the gossip, chimed in with wide grins. “I dunno, Bossman,” Ewen said with a snicker, “maybe they think she’s Demetrius’s girlfriend.”

Damian’s teeth clenched involuntarily at the suggestion. A strange, unfamiliar wave of jealousy surged through him. But he quickly shook it off, refusing to entertain the ridiculous idea. ‘There’s no way’, he told himself, though the thought still nagged at him.

Becky, not one to let things go, turned her attention to Anya with exaggerated curiosity. “So, Anya, is your boyfriend rich? Handsome? Tall?”

Anya’s expression softened, a small smile playing on her lips. “Yes, he’s all of those things, but…” Her cheeks flushed a delicate pink, and she added softly, “Most importantly, he’s kind. We’ve been through a lot together.”

Becky let out a dreamy sigh, clasping her hands together. “That’s so romantic! I want a boyfriend like that! Is he older?”

“No,” Anya replied, a hint of amusement in her voice. “He’s in our class.”

Damian felt his irritation spike, an unpleasant heat rising in his chest. ’What classmate?’ he wondered, his mind racing. ‘And why do I even care?’ But care he did, much to his annoyance. He tried to push the thoughts away, but they clung to him like stubborn cobwebs.

Before he could dwell on it any longer, a guy from the football team swaggered over, clearly interested in Anya. “Hey there, you new around here?” he asked with a confident grin, his eyes raking over Anya in a way that made Damian’s blood boil.

Before Anya could respond, Demetrius stepped in smoothly, his tone icy and commanding. “Move along.” Despite his slight build and typically aloof demeanor, there was something about Demetrius’s presence—the way he carried himself with that quiet, unyielding confidence that came with being a Desmond—that made people think twice about crossing him.

The football player hesitated, then slinked away, clearly not wanting to challenge the Desmond name. Damian felt a brief surge of satisfaction at seeing the guy retreat, but it was quickly replaced by a gnawing worry. ‘At least she won’t be stuck with that guy,’ he thought with relief. But then a more unsettling idea crept into his mind, one that made his stomach twist. ’But what if she ends up liking Demetrius?’

As they continued walking, Damian’s mind wouldn’t let go of the troubling thought. He imagined Anya and Demetrius together, laughing, studying, walking down the halls… His heart pounded harder, and not in a good way.

A group of girls nearby began whispering loudly, their voices carrying over to the group. “Who’s she? Is she a transfer student? Is she… Desmond’s girlfriend?”

“I don’t know, but she looks really cool though… But why are those kids following them?”

Damian’s hands clenched into fists, his fingers digging into his scalp as he struggled with the idea. MDesmond’s girlfriend?’The words echoed in his mind, almost too much to bear. He could feel an ill sensation rising in his throat, as if the mere suggestion was enough to make him sick.

“Bossman, you okay?” Emile asked, noticing Damian’s obvious distress.

“Yeah, you’re looking a little green,” Ewen added, peering at Damian with concern. Then, as if a lightbulb went off in his head, Ewen added, “Well, to be honest, Anya isn’t exactly Desmond material, right? But Demetrius is kind of… scary.”

Emile nodded in agreement. “Yeah, he’s always so calm, but you just know he’s thinking ten steps ahead. And remember when he just stared down that rugby player without even blinking? Creepy, right?”

Damian’s mind conjured up a horrifying shoujo manga-style image of a wedding between Anya and Demetrius—Anya in a flowing white dress, Demetrius in a sharp suit, the two of them smiling at each other with hearts in their eyes. The thought made Damian’s stomach turn. He could almost hear the nauseatingly sweet background music that would accompany such a scene.

Becky, always ready to poke the bear, snickered as she glanced at Damian. “Maybe he wants this Anya to stay so she and Demetrius can be together she can be his big sister-in-law! ” she teased, her voice full of mock innocence.

Damian shot her a withering look, his face pale and his heart pounding. Ice ran through his veins as he glared at Becky, knowing she was just trying to get a rise out of him, but he couldn’t shake the unsettling feeling gnawing at him. He said nothing, his thoughts too jumbled to respond. ’Why is this bothering me so much?‘ he thought, the question circling in his mind like a storm he couldn’t control.

As they finally reached Demetrius’s dorm, Damian kept his gaze firmly ahead, trying to bury the irrational jealousy and confusion swirling inside him. But the image of Anya with Demetrius lingered, refusing to let him rest.

Finally, they arrived at Demetrius’s dorm. Damian let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, glad to be off the increasingly unsettling campus. The tension hung in the air, especially for Damian, who couldn’t shake the turmoil churning inside him.

“Right, you three,” Demetrius gestured at the boys, “explain what you did.”

The boys took a deep breath and began to explain the process, as best as eight-year-olds could. Both Demetrius and Anya listened intently, which felt strange to Damian—Demetrius rarely paid attention to him, and now, combined with older, composed Anya, it was unsettling.

As Demetrius flipped through the pages of the spellbook, the conversation naturally paused. Becky sidled up to Anya, still fascinated by the entire situation. “So, Anya… when you get back to your time, will you tell your boyfriend about all of this? I bet he’d be super jealous if he knew Damian was helping you.”

Anya’s smile turned a bit mischievous. “Oh, I think he’d find it pretty funny, if I’m honest.”

Becky oohed, her curiosity piqued. “Nice! Yeah, I bet your boyfriend doesn’t get fazed by other guys at all.”

Anya laughed. “He definitely gets fazed sometimes, but with stuff like that, we can work it out.”

Becky gasped dramatically, looking like she’d just discovered a new life goal. “You’re so mature and cool, Anya! I love it! Am I as cool as you?”

Damian rolled his eyes, clearly fed up with the whole conversation. “Neither of you are cool!”

Anya stared at Damian for a moment, her expression thoughtful as she studied him. Damian’s face flushed red under her intense gaze, her big green eyes making him squirm. She was definitely Anya. “W-what do you want?!” he snapped, stomping his foot in frustration, trying to break the tension.

But she didn’t look away. “Sy-on boy… let’s go outside for a moment.”

Damian huffed, crossing his arms defensively. “Fine, whatever,” he grumbled, dragging his feet as he followed Anya out of the dorm room. She closed the door behind them, and he stood there, glaring at her.

“I can’t help but ask… why did you do this? Why did you want to be older?” she asked, her voice gentle but curious.

“That’s none of your business!” he spat, his bratty tone cutting through the air.

Anya didn’t flinch. Instead, she placed a hand on his shoulder, her touch soft. “I’m just trying to help, Damian. Please, tell me.” She smiled at him, and Damian felt that same uncomfortable squirming sensation he got when little Anya looked at him with tears in her eyes.

“I-I-I wanted to be older like Demetrius! If I was older, I could get as many Stella Stars as him—maybe even more!” He refused to admit the deeper truth—that he wanted to be more like Demetrius so his father might finally be impressed and spend more time with him.

“I see. Well, that took a lot of courage to admit,” Anya said, her voice calm and reassuring. She placed her other hand on his other shoulder and bent down so her face was close to his. “But don’t you think that even if it had worked, it wouldn’t have solved anything? You’d just be older, and you’d have lost all the time you could’ve spent with your friends.”

Damian’s heart pounded like crazy, and if she wasn’t holding him still, he would’ve bolted. This was like his usual Anya fluster times a million. “B-b-but…” He tried to speak, but the words wouldn’t come out.

Anya sighed and stepped back, giving him some space. “Can you just try to accept that you’re good enough?” she asked, tilting her head to the side with a soft smile.

Damian’s face felt like it was on fire, and he couldn’t bring himself to say anything.

“For me?” Anya added sweetly.

“F-fine! But you’re still a big uggo with stubby legs! And I bet your boyfriend smells!” Damian blurted out, his bratty tone flaring up as a defense.

Anya chuckled, unable to resist ruffling his hair again. “Aw, little Sy-on boy…”

“Hey!” Becky called from the door, peeking out. “I think Demetrius has found something!”

Anya and Damian quickly returned inside.

Demetrius looked up from the spellbook. “I think this is it,” he said, pointing to a passage. “But we’ll need the same items you used originally to cast it. Do you still have them?”

Damian nodded, pulling out the rusted key, quail’s egg, and blue marble. “Yeah, I’ve got everything. Let’s just get this over with.”

Anya looked at the items and then at Damian, her expression softening. “Thank you, Damian. For everything.”

Damian felt his cheeks heat up again. The normal Anya never said his first name like that. “Whatever.”

“Just real quick…” Anya walked over to Demetrius. “I’m guessing there’s a memory removal spell?”

Demetrius nodded. “There is, yeah. I’ll use it on the kids.”

Anya nodded, relieved that he immediately understood.

Becky’s eyes widened. “What?! No! You can’t make us forget you—you’re so cool!”

Emile, Ewen, and even Damian reacted a little, clearly not thrilled with the idea.

Anya knelt down to their level, her voice warm and gentle. “Aw, guys, it’ll be fine. I’ve probably revealed too much, and I don’t want any of your futures to change.”

She hugged each one of them warmly, saving Damian for last. As she hugged him, Damian stiffened, not hugging her back. She whispered something sweet in his ear: “I think you’re good enough, and little Anya does too, we don’t want you to be like Demetrius”

Damian’s breath hitched, a mix of emotions swirling inside him. She knew. How did she know? He felt his jealousy melt away, if only for a moment.

Anya then turned back to Demetrius. “Thank you for your help,” she said, her tone sincere.

Demetrius looked at her thoughtfully before asking point-blank, “Anya… your boyfriend… he’s…”

“Yes,” Anya replied, smiling endearingly.

Demetrius nodded, processing the confirmation.

With that, Demetrius began the ritual, carefully following the instructions in the spellbook. The room filled with a soft glow as the spell took effect, and soon, the pink smoke returned, enveloping Anya once more.

When the smoke cleared, Anya was back to her eight-year-old self, sitting on the floor and looking dazed. She yawned and rubbed her eyes, blinking at her surroundings.

“Anya!” Becky exclaimed, rushing over to her. “You’re back!”

Anya blinked, her big, innocent eyes wide as she looked around. “What happened? Who woke me up?”

Damian let out a sigh of relief, glad to see that Anya was okay, though he couldn’t help but feel a strange sense of loss.

“What was it like?” Becky asked, her curiosity bubbling over.

“What was what like?” Anya asked, tilting her head, which made the kids collectively facepalm.

“The future! That’s where you went!! Did you see us?” Emile asked, his voice filled with excitement.

Anya just blinked, her expression blank. “No, I think I was sleeping.”

“Are you serious?” Ewen groaned, throwing his hands up in exasperation.

As the others complained, Anya stared at Damian, trying to piece together her memories. There was something fuzzy and warm in her thoughts when she tried to remember if she had been somewhere else. Damian’s face seemed to float into her mind.

Damian noticed her staring and immediately turned beet red, his bratty instincts kicking in. “W-what, uggo?! Stop looking at me like that!”

Anya blinked again, her thoughts swirling. “Maybe… I think I saw…” She paused, trying to grasp the fleeting memory of Damian’s face in her mind. “No, I don’t remember.” She shrugged, letting it go, though the feeling lingered.

“Can all of you sit in a circle?” Demetrius suddenly interrupted, his voice flat and uninterested, as if he was bored with the whole ordeal.

“No!” Becky protested, crossing her arms defiantly. “I don’t want to forget older Anya!”

Demetrius gave them all a stern, emotionless look, and they reluctantly gave in, shuffling into a circle. As he performed the memory removal spell, it was almost like magic—because it was—the kids suddenly forgot everything, blinking in confusion as they looked around, wondering why they were sitting there.

“I’m hungry,” Anya mumbled, rubbing her eyes sleepily. “I want peanuts.”

Damian, feeling oddly lighter and more relaxed, snorted. “You’re always hungry for something dumb like peanuts.”

Anya frowned, her confusion deepening. “Why are you so mean to me?”

Damian blushed, quickly looking away to hide his embarrassment. “Shut up, stupid. Let’s just get out of here,” he grumbled, stomping out of the room. The others followed, leaving Anya and the others to wonder why he was acting so strange.

—

Epilogue - The Future

The sun was beginning to set, casting a warm, golden glow over the city as Anya and Damian strolled down the quiet street, laughing about something trivial and enjoying the calm after a long day at Eden Academy. They had just finished studying for their upcoming exams, but the conversation had long since shifted to lighter topics—jokes about their classmates, teasing each other, and the occasional playful argument.

Anya, now fifteen and every bit as confident and spirited as she had been back in her earlier years, nudged Damian playfully. “You know, you still make that grumpy face whenever someone mentions Demetrius,” she teased, her eyes sparkling with amusement.

Damian rolled his eyes, though there was a fond smile tugging at the corners of his lips. “Yeah, well, old habits die hard,” he retorted, but his tone was light, and there was no real edge to his words. Being with Anya had softened his once hard lines—at least around her.

They continued walking, their hands brushing occasionally, the comfort of their relationship evident in every little interaction. Damian glanced at Anya, marveling at how much had changed since they were kids. He never would have imagined back then that they’d end up like this—together, and happy.

But just as the thought crossed his mind, Anya suddenly stumbled, her grip on his arm tightening for a moment before she swayed, her eyes fluttering shut.

“Anya?” Damian’s voice was filled with concern as he caught her, easing her down onto a nearby bench. His heart pounded in his chest, a surge of panic rising as he watched her seemingly lose consciousness.

And then, with a soft “poof,” Anya’s body shrank before his eyes, her teenage form dissolving into the familiar figure of an eight-year-old girl. She was now back in her original Eden Academy elementary school uniform, looking just as she had years ago—innocent, sweet, and utterly adorable.

For a moment, Damian just stared, his breath caught in his throat. He was overwhelmed by a rush of emotions he hadn’t felt in years. Anya, small and childlike again, was undeniably cute—so cute that it almost made him want to scoop her up and never let go. But then he remembered who he was, and what had just happened.

He had to hold it together.

Gently, he cradled Anya in his arms, feeling her head nestle against his shoulder as she drifted into a deep sleep, seemingly unaware of the transformation that had just occurred. Damian’s heart squeezed as he held her close, his protective instincts kicking in full force. She was so small, so vulnerable… and so not supposed to be eight years old right now.

His mind raced back to the odd conversation he’d had with Demetrius when he’d turned fifteen. At the time, it had seemed so out of the blue—Demetrius, with his usual cryptic demeanor, had pulled him aside and told him, “There’s a chance Anya might… revert, someday. If it happens, don’t panic. Just call me.”

Damian had brushed it off back then, finding it weird and typical of his brother’s strange way of speaking. But now, holding a tiny, sleeping Anya in his arms, the memory came rushing back with a cold clarity.

He needed to call Demetrius. Now.

Spotting a small convenience store nearby, Damian adjusted Anya in his arms and made his way inside. The bell above the door chimed softly as he entered, and the shopkeeper, an elderly woman with a kind face, looked up from the counter.

“Well, aren’t you just the cutest young father,” she said with a warm smile, her eyes twinkling as she noticed the sleeping girl in his arms.

Damian’s cheeks flushed a deep red at the comment. He quickly shook his head, ready to correct her, but the words got caught in his throat. Instead, he found himself inwardly admitting that the idea of having mini Anyas with his Anya someday wasn’t so bad. It was a thought that made his heart flutter—a future he hadn’t dared to imagine before now.

But he quickly refocused, pushing the thought aside. He had more pressing concerns at the moment.

“Excuse me, ma’am,” Damian managed to say, his voice a little tight. “Could I use your pay phone?”

“Of course, dear,” the shopkeeper said, gesturing to the old-fashioned pay phone in the corner of the store. “It’s right over there.”

“Thank you,” Damian replied, carrying Anya over to the phone. He carefully balanced her in one arm and fished a few coins out of his pocket with the other, slipping them into the slot before dialing Demetrius’s number. The phone rang once, twice, and then his brother’s calm, measured voice answered on the other end.

“Damian,” Demetrius said, his tone indicating that he already knew why Damian was calling. “It’s happening, isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Damian replied, his voice a little more strained than he would have liked. He glanced down at Anya, still fast asleep in his arms. “She just… poofed back into a kid. What do I do?”

“Bring her to the estate,” Demetrius instructed, his voice steady. “I’ll explain everything when you get here. And Damian… try to stay calm.”

Damian nodded, even though his brother couldn’t see him. “Yeah… sure,” he muttered, hanging up the phone. He took a deep breath, gathering his thoughts as he looked down at the little girl in his arms—the girl who had somehow stolen his heart, even if she was eight years old again.

Despite the situation, a small, fond smile tugged at his lips. “You’re lucky you’re so cute, you know that?” he whispered, more to himself than to her.

With that, he adjusted his grip on her and left the store, giving a quick nod of thanks to the shopkeeper as he headed toward the Desmond estate. His heart was filled with both concern and an odd sense of nostalgia. Whatever this was, whatever had caused this strange turn of events, he’d figure it out—with Demetrius’s help, of course. But for now, all that mattered was getting Anya somewhere safe.

[seijorhi]

If you have the time and feel like it, I'd love to read anything from you about Shigaraki/Reader. (Or maybe Shinsou??)The first thing that came to my mind was something involving chikan but anything that you can come up with is totally good with me as well!!!! Love your writing!!!

This is like months late I am so sorry, bby!! But I hope it’s okay? 🥺

Shigaraki Tomura x Female Reader

TW chikan, non-con, nsfw

Dirty

Staring isn’t a crime. 

It’s the mantra you kept repeating to yourself as more and more passengers slowly filed in. There is nothing wrong. You’re being paranoid.

Staring isn’t a crime, but you’d feel a whole hell of a lot more comfortable if the pair of red eyes boring into you from across the train carriage weren’t accompanied by a creepy, wide grin.

You tell yourself that you’re imagining things, that you’ve read one too many shoujo mangas, because the silvery haired stranger in his ratty oversized hoodie just happens to be facing your general direction, so of course it feels like he’s staring. It doesn’t stop you from trying to tug down the hem of your skirt.

Except when the tiny hairs on the back of your neck stand on end and you decide to bite the bullet and scamper across to the other side of the carriage under the guise of getting off, the stranger follows. 

He’s only staring. You’ve heard about men who like to scare girls on public transport, how they… get off on it. But the stranger seems content just to watch. There’s a Nintendo switch sticking out of his hoodie pocket, but in the fifteen minutes you’ve been riding together, he hasn’t made a move to touch it - while everybody else on the carriage is either sleeping, reading or absorbed in their phones, the stranger’s attention is fixed entirely on you.

He’s enjoying it, you think - your discomfort. The way you shift and try to subtly curl in on yourself, hiding behind other passengers, how your eyes keep darting up to see if he’s still watching (he is) before shifting your attention back to the phone in your hands. Should you text somebody? Your best friend, maybe? And say what exactly, ‘help, there’s a creepy looking guy staring at me on the train, please come get me?’

There were at least twenty other people on the carriage with you, and not one of them has noticed the silver haired man staring at you - or if they have, they’ve promptly dismissed it as nothing to concern themselves with. You’re working yourself up over nothing - he’s only doing it trying to get a reaction out of you.  

You don’t want to cause a fuss over nothing.

Breathing deeply, you decide to simply not give him the satisfaction, turning your back on him to face out the window by the doors instead. You still have another twenty minutes left of the ride until you reach your stop, with any luck he’ll lose interest soon enough.

At the next station, the doors slide open and a swarm of commuters flood into the carriage. You’re bumped and brushed past, jostled about as more and more passengers try to fit onboard - it’s uncomfortable, but for once you find yourself grateful for the teeming crowds. With enough people squished between you and the pale, hoodie-clad stranger, you comfort yourself with the knowledge that he’s probably lost sight of you (or at least the parts of you he’s interested in leering at) and allow yourself to breathe and just relax-

Until a sudden jolt of the carriage sends you reeling into the chest of the commuter behind you. 

On instinct you turn your head to glance over your shoulder, apologies ready on the tip of your tongue,  only for them to turn to ash in your mouth as you meet bloodshot vermillion eyes and a wide, unsettling grin.

“Whoops,” he chuckles, the sound dry and rasping, like nails raking down a chalkboard. “Better be careful, now. Don’t wanna hurt yourself.”

Your breath catches and you still, but there’s no room for you to move as pale, spindly fingers creep across your waist, sliding down the pleated fabric of your skirt. A tiny whimper, lost almost immediately to the droning hum of the carriage as it jolts along the tracks, escapes as rough fingertips graze the top of your thigh, dragging your skirt upwards in search of another prize. You feel the chest pressed against your back rumble with another laugh, dry, chapped, lips dragging possessively against the curve of your neck, and a deep, shuddering inhale.

(Is he sniffing your hair?!)

“You might wanna hold onto something, princess,” the stranger jeers. Goosebumps prickle at your skin, a deep, unsettling pit growing in your stomach. This isn’t staring - this isn’t harmless anymore.

He’s got you caged between his body and the doors, one arm shot out over your shoulder to brace himself, the other creeping up towards your panties with agonising slowness. There’s nowhere to go, but for the life of you, you don’t know why you can’t seem to make a sound. Your legs are quaking, heart thumping unsteadily as long digits probe at your panty covered sex, dragging teasingly against the outline of your slit. All it would take is a shout, a yell, and somebody would intervene - packed train or not - but despite the icy fear seeping into your veins, the rising panic as your pretty lace panties are yanked to the side, your cries are caught in your throat.

Your cheeks burn with humiliation as long digits roughly slither between your plush pussy lips. You’re not wet - how could you be? - but that doesn’t seem to bother the man violating you, not as those same fingers greedily tease at your hole for a split second before they plunge inside of you, his thumb rubbing at your crude circles around your clit like it’s a joystick. You wonder if anyone has noticed the hitch in your breath, the soft, whimpering whine that you can’t quite hold back as he fucks you on his fingers, stretching you out. Facing out the window, there’s nobody to see the tears that spill down your cheeks, the way your features contorts in pain - and something else - as his fingertips press and drag along your warm, tight cunny walls.

There’s no rhythm or technique as he roughly mashes his palm against your sex, but suddenly it’s not so much an effort to speak out as it is to smother your own noises - the thought of somebody catching you like this, seeing him finger fuck you in on a crowded, public train in the middle of the day making you want to curl up and disappear entirely.

His fingers are stuffed deep inside of your pussy, fucking you in earnest, it doesn’t matter if you were willing or not, you let him get this far without so much as a peep. Who’s going to believe that you didn’t want this, weren’t silently begging for it - that with every flick of his wrist this stranger is raping you in broad daylight in the middle of a crowded train?

You bite down on your bottom lip, hands clenching into pathetic fists at your side as the man behind you moans and grunts in your ear. There’s something hard and warm pressed against your ass - it takes you a moment to realise that it’s his cock, and his hips are rutting eagerly against your backside. 

His panting breath tickles at your neck, “Gettin’ all nice ‘n wet, such a good little slut. You -hah- you enjoying this, princess?”

Revulsion rises like a wave, crashing through you, but you can’t deny the building slick you feel easing his passage - your cunt is all but drooling around his fingers. You can’t bear to look around to see if any of the other passengers have noticed, if they can hear the lewd sounds of him fingering you like a man possessed.

Your forehead falls against the cool, glass window, your eyes squeezing shut as more tears fall. It doesn’t make a difference, you can’t disappear into your mind and pretend that this isn’t happening, he’s making sure of it. His hips are grinding faster against the swell of your ass, his fingers picking up their pace in response. It’s like he wants you to cum with him, and when a third finger slips inside of you, crooks and slams against that sweet spot that has you gasping, you know that it’s not far off. 

“Tomura,” he pants desperately into your ear as he ruts up against you like a beast in heat, “Fuck! My n-name is Tomura.”

You don’t know why he’s telling you. Does he think you’ll cry it out as his thumb swipes messily at your clit and your tight cunny walls unwittingly squeeze down on his fingers? Or does he just want you to know the name of the stranger about to make you cum in a train full of strangers.

You don’t have time to ponder the question, not as his teeth sink into the tender skin of your neck to muffle his growls and his fingers speed up, that tight coil of heat in your core pulling taut and snapping as unwanted pleasure explodes like fireworks, overwhelming your system as you convulse and shudder around him. 

Your vision goes white, a strangled sound somewhere between a sob and a moan leaves your lips.

Tomura snarls, riding out his own orgasm, warm cum spurting into his jeans as he all but collapses against you. For a moment, you two stay like that, his sweaty, larger frame draped over yours, his chest heaving, hand still caught up beneath your skirt.

In the wake of your climax, shame and humiliation rear their ugly heads. You came, you enjoyed it, your own violation. No amount of reassurance that it’s just your body's natural reaction to stimuli can stop the rising disgust that surges through you so violently it threatens to choke you. You feel dirty - filthy and used - especially with Tomura’s face nuzzled in your neck, his tongue laving at your flushed skin, the blood welling from his overzealous bite.

His hand slides out of your underwear, using your skirt to wipe off the syrupy wetness that clings to his digits. You stomach churns in response as the train pulls up alongside the station platform, passengers once again jostling as they prepare to disembark. Even now you can’t force yourself to move, can’t shove him away like you so desperately want to.

You’re pathetic. 

He sighs contentedly, chapped lips curling into a smirk as the voice over the p.a announces the incoming stop. If Tomura notices the tears that wet your cheeks, your shoulders shaking with quiet sobs, he doesn't pass comment, choosing instead to press a sickeningly sweet kiss to your temple as the train slows down to a halt.

“That was real fun, Y/N,” he coos gleefully. “We should do it again some time.”

And then he’s gone, disappearing into the crowd of exiting passengers, and your trembling legs finally give out.

[themidnightwriting]

a nervous confession

pairing : katsuki bakugou x fem!reader

word count : around 2k

genre: fluff

prompt : “what do you want? finally got the guts to profess your undying love for me?” (ua third year)

warnings : the reader being a nervous bean, swearing, and nothing else

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“i’m telling you momo, today’s the day! i’m finally gonna tell him”  you gush to one of her closest friends as you pull on your tights, getting ready for school.

“y/n that’s what you said yesterday, and the day before, and many days before that.” momo says unemotionally as she scrolls through her phone.

momo was the type to wake up hours before she needed to on school days, so the typical routine had become momo getting ready in her dorm room and then going to your dorm to make sure you got up on time and looked presentable before heading to class together.

“okay i know i said that those days but i can feel it” you exclaim excitedly when talking to momo. “I can feel it in my boobs.”

“what does that even mean?”

“honestly I’m not sure, whatever, anyway i think i’m gonna tell him on our walk back from class.” you and bakugou had been studying together after class for the past week or two, sometimes kirishima would join but today it was gonna be just the two of you.

“If you do end up confessing i hope it goes well.”  

“i hope so too, honestly this whole crush thing is getting annoying.” you admitted releasing a deep sigh.

“y/n, having feelings for another person is a normal thing, why is it so annoying to you?” momo questioned, finally looking up at you.

“well, for so long i could hang out and talk with him without getting so nervous, it’s just fucking boom boy so why am i always so gahhh” you gush. “i’d say he’s nothing special but that’d be bullshit and i’m sick of this. i just want to tell him so he can turn me down and i can move on with my life.”

you and bakugou become friends in your first year. you were already close with kirishima so when he started bringing bakugou around, you immediately liked him. you found his temper hilarious and honestly admired how confident he was in his abilities. overtime you also grew to appreciate the time the two of you would spend together in each other's dorms. the quiet being something that both of you had become accustomed to when studying. you were always comfortable with each other so that’s why your new found crush on him made you so upset. you just wanted things to go back to the way they were, before you got so blushy and flustered around him.  

“y/n. shouldn’t you be hopeful that this will go well and he’ll reciprocate your same feelings?” as she asked, she stood up and moved towards the door noticing that you were finally dressed and ready to go.

“i mean it would be nice but that wouldn’t be super realistic.” you responded following her out of your dorm room. you assumed that bakugou was too focused on becoming the number one hero to even think about romantic feelings, even if he does spend most nights reading shoujo manga.

“i guess we’ll just have to see then.” momo murmured with a gentle smile. 

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“MOMO, Y/N, WHY ARE YOU HERE SO LATE. AS CLASS REPRESENTATIVE I NEED TO MAKE SURE THAT YOU TWO ARE HERE ON TIME” iida shouted at the two of you as you made your way into 3a’s classroom.

“iida. please. we still have like five minutes” you groaned rubbing your temples at his antics. the night before you had stayed up late laying in bed trying to think of the best way to tell a certain angry blonde how you felt. so dealing with iida’s yelling was the last thing you wanted to do.

“oh. well still you should be here faster.” He reprimanded shaking his arms around.

“well I’m soooo sorry not everyone has fucking engines on their legs.” 

“Y/N! don’t be so rude.” momo exclaimed smacking the back of your head. she was usually the one to tell you when you went too far with your back talk. even if you didn’t think you were that bad. 

“OW! WHAT THE HELL.” you continued to yell at momo as she pushed you towards your desk at the front of the classroom. “that shit hurt!”

“HEY EXTRA STOP YELLING” bakugou shouted, turning to see you getting forced towards your desk. just the sight of him made you want the ground to open and swallow you whole.

“oh you’re really one to talk, my favorite walking megaphone.” you tease smirking as you sat down in front of him. sweat beginning to form in your palms as you egged him on. God he’s so pretty. How is he so pretty?

“WHAT DID YOU CALL ME” slamming down his fist on his desk.

“you heard me, want me to say it again.” a joyful tone lacing your words as you continued to push his buttons

“tch… whatever. just shut up.” he grumbled giving up on you, as he turned though, you swore you saw the hint of a smile on his face.

this time of the day probably your second favorite. teasing bakugou and watching him freak out always made you laugh and getting to mess with him before your school day actually started was amazing. you knew that no matter how much you teased him, he wasn’t actually upset about it. you always made sure not to make it too personal. just small jabs at him throughout the day. he never said it but you were pretty sure he liked it too.

“it’s time for class to start so everyone shut up and sit down.” aizawa muttered slowly making his way into the classroom.

you turned around and started to get out your books ready for class to begin.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

“that’s all we have for the day, class dismissed.” aizawa announced, taking his stuff and ambling out of the classroom.

“god finally.” you mutter getting up to pack your stuff, then following kiri and bakugou out of the classroom. it was time and you weren’t gonna chicken out. no, not this time. it was time to tell him and accept his answer. at least that was what you told yourself you would do. 

if you were coming up with all of the possible outcomes and there were a few that you were afraid of. the first was that this would ruin the friendship that you worked so hard to build with bakugou. along with the fact that he could just stop talking to you in general and that would be devastating. everyone finding out that he turned you down was also a possibility, and a scary one at that. you were the type to be nervous for social interactions but the thought of losing one of your closest friends over a dumb crush is terrifying. before you could think of more possible ways you could get turned down and alienated, a hand waved in front of your face and snapped you out of your thoughts.  

“yo little dudette,” kiri beamed at you “you okay? you look out of it.”

“um yeah sorry, I’m all good.” you mumbled shaking your while head looking up at your sunshine of a friend's face. you glanced over at bakugou who was looking at you with a confused expression. “guys really i’m all good. i just didn’t sleep a lot last night.”

“don’t worry I get it, just make sure to get more sleep tonight! anyway i gotta head out, i’m helping denki train in like an hour. i’ll see you guys later.” kiri grinned, moving to head towards one of the training centers.

“ciya kiri!” you waved before looking back at bakugou, butterflies erupting in your stomach. “ready to get studying?”

“duh. I’ve been waiting for your dumb ass forever.” he huffed starting towards your dorm.

taunting as you followed him you smirked “oh so you’ve been looking at my ass?”

“what NO. THAT’S NOT WHAT I SAID”

“suurrre, i totally believe you boom boy.” you mused finally catching up with him as the two of you made your way to the path that led to the 3a dorm building.

Aacomfortable silence filled the air on your way. thankfully even when it got quiet, it was never too awkward. the sun shone through the trees and the weather was pleasant with a light breeze. one thing you had always loved about attending u.a. was how beautiful the campus was. the bright trees that lined the pathways to the dorms almost made you feel like your school wasn’t in the middle of the city. taking a deep breath of the fresh air you turned to bakugou and stopped walking. finally gaining the confidence you need to enunciate your true feelings.

shaking you looked up at his bright vermillion red eyes and spoke “i have something to tell you boom boy.”

“what do you want? finally got the guts to profess your undying love for me or something?” he turned to your stopped figure with a haughty smirk.

your eyes widen in alarm at his response, how did he know? “um yep, that’s exactly what i was gonna do.”

the smirk on his face faltered as he met your eyes “.....what?”

“well i planned on saying it myself but i guess this will do.” you took another breath to calm your nerves once again and continued. “i really like you and not just as a friend. i’ve tried to not think about it and tried to push my feelings away but i just can’t.” you moved to look away but it felt wrong so you looked back into his shocked eyes. “i understand that this’ll be weird for you but i just needed to get this off my chest and hear you tell me that you don’t feel the same so i can just get over it and things can go back to the way they we-” before you could continue your explanation he interrupted you by grabbing you by the shoulders. 

“woah woah dumbass slow down, are you gonna let me speak or are you just gonna keep rambling like an idiot.”

his response shocked you, making you stumble back a little. “wha…? what i wasn’t rambling.”

“um you totally were but that’s not the point, dumbass. so let me get straight. you like me, as in more than just friends?” he muttered the last part, a look that almost seemed hopeful, but you didn’t want to get too ahead of yourself, in his eyes as glanced down at you.

your mouth was dry and you were too afraid to actually say anything so you just nodded.

“tch …  you think it’s gonna ruin our friendship?” Again too nervous to speak, you responded with a small nod. after waiting for your response he continued. “you’re really stupid you know that.”

well that wasn’t what you were expecting, “um what. bakugou if you don't feel the same, you don’t have to be so mean about it.” you pouted, shaking of his hold and turning to walk away from him “i just didn’t want to ruin anything…’

“oi…” he mumbled grabbing your wrist to stop you from leaving “that’s not what i meant, i meant that… well… you’re an idiot for thinking i don’t feel the same.”

before you could process his confession, he pulled you into a tight hug with his head resting in the crook of your neck.

“you need to let me speak before you just move to walk away… idiot.” his hot breath on your neck as you finally moved to return his embrace.

“i’m sorry i was just really nervous” you breathed with a small smile, allowing the weight that had been on your shoulders being lifted.

smirking as your adrenaline wore off, you decided to bring back a topic from earlier “does this mean that sometimes you actually do stare at my ass?”

you could feel his breath hitch as he pulled away from your embrace “WHAT NO… i mean umm… doesn’t matter, we need to go study.” the flustered boy reached for your hand and began to drag you towards the dorms as he worked to avoid your eye contact.

“i think that gave me my answer katsu. whatever, i mean i look at you ass too.” you admitted with a sly smile attempting to peak around to see his reaction.

“tch… whatever just stop.”

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AN: gahhh i hope who ever ended up reading this enjoyed it. this was a bit rushed but I just loved the prompt that I found too much to just not write about it and post it. i’ve never posted my writing before so please be kind. also i do have some other stuff that I’m working on if anyone did enjoy this. :) 

p.s. i know the aizawa probably won’t be their teacher when their in their third year but I’m too lazy to find a different teacher

[bruh-haikyuu]

A/N: ITS FINISHED WHAT THE FFUCKK 7000+ WORDS THIS IS A BEAST. ENJOYY!!! :DD Thank you for all your support!

Fem!MC in this is the guitarist/lead vocalist of the rock band PARANOIA! She also went to the same middle school as Konoha, but because she’s deemed as a prodigy, they didn’t get to talk so much. I hope you all enjoy the interesting take I’ve put in MC’s personality!! :))

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 (Coming Soon!)

ensemble. | konoha akinori

part 1 - overture.

word count: 7287

warnings: slight angst, a lil’ bit of manipulation

(n.) an orchestral piece at the beginning of an opera, suite, play, oratorio, or other extended composition

You’re not the type of person to care. Things flitted over your head so easily like they’re nothing more than a light breeze. But were you an airhead? Not exactly. President of the Light Music Club and one of Fukurodani Academy’s prized minds, people sought of you as a genius or a prodigy. But you never really understood what they meant.

Weren’t you just a high school student like them?

You just got bored very easily. That’s all there is to say. Sure, you hopped between multiple clubs and interests in your first year, but wasn’t that initial year your chance to discover yourself? At least that’s what your parents told you. And you did! Eventually. The Light Music Club was the only club you felt the most interest and where you could be your fanciful, “blunt” self without everyone else worrying about you.

What’s up with that, you asked yourself much too often to be comfortable. Worrying’s for old people like parents, or grandparents or even middle-aged women who’d found no hope for love. Exams are temporary, people are temporary, and if they’re going to last for only a while, why think so much about it? You could never get why everyone made being a high school student so complicated.

But it’s kind of frightening. Being a high schooler but not completely understanding what it means. What were you then? Maybe you were just as “alien” as everyone called you. Put yourself in other people’s shoes, was what you were often told by your bandmates when you’d told them about your woes.

“I’ve decided!” you announced today as your bandmates slash club members sat around you in a circle. “I’m going to get a boyfriend.”

“...L/N, this ain’t another one of your social experiments, is it?” your drummer Reo sighed, exasperation dripping in his voice.

“Yes, and no,” you said, crossing your arms. “Reeeooo, it’s not wrong for your little ol’ club president to find love, right? Besides, I’m already a second year, it’s only a matter of time until I graduate. So why not make full use of it now?”

Bassist Iori exchanged a glance with Reo before chuckling deeply. “Always the unexpected one, huh, Taichou*? Alright then, you have our full support, this is bound to be funny at a point.”

“What is your type anyway?” the first-year keyboardist Tsumugi (occasionally MugiMugi much to his dismay) asked. “Right now, I mean... Since you switch between interests so quickly, senpai.”

“Well it’s neither of you, if you’re curious. Reo’s got a girlfriend already. Iori-kun’s too stingy. And MugiMugi seems like the kind of guy who’d get married to his own mom.”

“Oi, senpai!”

It was true. They heavily reminded you of your three older brothers. And you were thankful to the heavens that they all decided to move away once they graduated high school. One more ounce of “brotherly defense” and you were sure you were going to run off to live in some live house.

“Still not sugarcoating your words, I see. But I’m glad you’re not going to force us to date you, ” Iori muttered, finding interest in the pegs of his bass. “Do you even have someone you like? You seem to be, uh...”

“Very much married to your guitar,” Reo followed. Your drummer and his short-cropped hair was particularly quick to catch on cues and make a humdrum comment about it. It’s very obvious that he tries (keyword: tries) to empathize with you, but the fact that you just become a deeper enigma everyday just pisses him off.

You frowned, getting up from your rickety chair. “Lennon-chan is a very valuable item to me, but I won’t stoop so low as to marry it! I’m interested in a human. Hu-man. We went to the same middle school, so if you were thinking that my affections are baseless, then think of another question for me to answer.”

How unbelievable. You didn’t understand how people thought you were less of a person than they were. You have a set of lungs, human skin without a zipper that opens up to your Martian scalp and a teenage heart for another to hold. What’s so hard to believe that you were able to like something long-term?

“So, who is it then?” Tsumugi asked.

Tapping your finger on your chin in mock wonder, you gave them an impish grin. “Konoha Akinori.”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Second-year student Konoha Akinori was not a big fan of surprises. He only enjoyed them when he was surprising the person. Other way around... not so much.

Which was not aiding to the reason why he was standing at an impasse with Fukurodani’s resident free-spirited prodigy L/N Y/N.

Your eyes twinkled brightly as you edged closer to him in the school’s near-empty courtyard. “Hello, Konoha-kun.”

“H-hello, L/N-san.”

What was going on? Why was this happening? Was this some sort of prank Bokuto had pulled on him? If it was, then how unfair. To have the prettiest girl in their grade approach him so suddenly... The entire thing reeked of craftiness, and Konoha resolved that Bokuto wouldn’t have gone so far to pull his leg. But why was this happening, again?!

“L/N-s-san, you’re a bit too close,” he choked, back pressed against a wall. Much to his gratefulness, you pulled back to let him breathe. If you had advanced one more step, he’d turn into an oversized tomato soon. Konoha Akinori the Human Tomato—that didn’t look so good on his college applications...

This girl’s danger, he thought. He knew about you. Heck, he even went to middle school with you. Sure, Konoha appreciated your beauty and talent as a person, but your alleged habit of jumping around interests just because “you were bored” terrified people to no end. You were a troublesome one, weren’t you?

“Konoha-kun, is it true you have a crush on me?”

Troublesome! Konoha cursed. His first real confrontation with an attractive girl and it had to be completely direct? No frills, no shoujo sparkles? How unpleasant. At least you shouldn’t pin him to a corner wall like this! Konoha just wanted to melt into a puddle and become absorbed into the soil.

“L-L/N-san, a lot of people have a crush on you!”

“I know. But I’m asking you. Do you like me?” your poised smile was the photograph of absolute nuisance. Blunt this, blunt that, was the way people described you, but Konoha never expected you to be this plain-spoken. Was there even a right answer when it came to your questions?

“L/N-san, you can’t just ask me something like this! I-I mean you’re pretty and smart and everything, so of course I had a crush on you, but isn’t this a little too late for that?”

Konoha swore your shoulders drooped at his words. But even that slight action was enough, to form a small incision to his heart. Just how human were you to have so heavy of an effect on him?

At that point, he was sure you were going to give up and leave him alone—possibly looking for another boy to meddle with... Until you chirped again in your nonchalant manner.

“But do you still like me?”

“I-I don’t know—”

“Then, why don’t we find out?”

‘Find out’? This was getting increasingly complicated. Out of all the people you could’ve trifle with, why did it have to be him? If only you were just more cute, instead of just plain out... surreal.

“We can go out for two months. You can find out if you do still have feelings for me, and I can learn why people make high school love seem more complicated than it should be,” you explained, counting off your reasons with a raised finger in each hand. “If it doesn’t work out by then, we’ll break up and I’ll leave you alone for good.”

In the silence that followed, Konoha was registering the information that had left your lips. Your words glitched in his mind like his mother’s old computer; always loading, never processing. There were so many questions he wanted to ask you, but he’d expected you to fling them back with more perplexing questions of your own. So he said nothing. In the silence that followed, he didn’t notice the glower that surfaced on your features as he let your offer dangle in the wall of space between you.

“We can go out and you can make Bokuto-kun and KomiKomi stop harassing you about being lame when it comes to girls.”

“How—” No. He wasn’t going to ask how you had his entire case figured out. Because he knew whatever reply was going to come out of your mouth was just going to be an indifferent: “It wasn’t a difficult process”. At least, Konoha knew that much about you.

Of course, the feeling of having a girlfriend—and someone like you, surprisingly—was going to be more than enough to rub into Komi and Bokuto’s faces. In fact, they’d leave him alone for eons if he did!  It was a tempting deal, and he ached to shake your hand and get it over with. But your own motives... “Complicated,” you’d said. The way you’d said it to him was almost pitiful. Konoha guessed you really did live on a different wavelength than other people.

Still avoiding your anticipating eyes, he replied, “Give me time to think about it.”

You didn’t particularly enjoy being forced to wait—not because you were an impatient person. “Thinking about it” only blooms ambivalence in return. And the longer someone thinks, the more doubtful they’ll become of their genuine resolve. If Konoha became cynical of the truth, your little ‘investigation’ would definitely go awry. What would happen to your ‘love’ then?

“Alright, but don’t take too long,” you spoke, raising your hands to your hips. “I’ve got your number so I’ll send you a text and you can save mine.”

Watching you spin on your heel and your back slowly shrink into the horizon, Konoha did a double take, finally taking in your final words to him.

“Wait, how’d you get my number?!”

Stopping in your tracks, you turned your head. Shooting him an impish grin, you broke the short absence of noise, and all at once Konoha really felt like he was in trouble.

“It wasn’t a difficult process,” you said.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“That’s...” Sarukui rolled the zipper of his jacket between his fingers before deciding on an appropriate word, “...very unsettling.”

In the privacy of the boys’ club room, Konoha crossed his arms. He’d made a face, just enough to border between pity and discontent. “Unsettling’s right. Do you think she’s a creep for just having my number like that?”

Tapping his chin with his index finger, the lax-faced boy replied, “I mean we are in the same grade. And she was class rep in our first year too, so it wouldn’t be much of a surprise if she just had our numbers kept with her.”

From the corner of the room, Washio rumbled, “She’s actually not that bad. Though I admit she’s very strange.”

Turning his attention to the burlier male, Sarukui put his hands together, “That’s right, you’re in L/N-san’s class, aren’t you?”

“I remember that time she offered to lend me her World History flashcards because I forgot mine,” Washio recalled, moving towards the center of the room. “It was great for a while since she’s the smartest person in the class... but then...”

“...Then?”

“It didn’t matter because I couldn’t read anything she’d wrote on it. There were a couple of cards where she wrote backwards and all while she kept switching between kanji, hiragana and katakana mid-word... A prodigy’s brain is truly terrifying.”

Even though the story was rather amusing, the three only let out a despaired sigh.

“Aah, but it’s true that Y/N-san’s a really nice person,” a voice piped up behind them.

Their manager Yukie silently trudged into the carpeted floor, her usual skittish smile broadening against her face. The four second-years pooled around the room, one visibly concerned, the other confused, the third conflicted and the last... slightly hungry. Drawing out her breath, the hungrier one explained.

“She doesn’t seem like she has any bad intentions to me, it’s just that she tends to look into things too much... I mean, Y/N-san always gets to the point without any reason for her actions. But that’s because she doesn’t know how to explain it in her own way. If you think about it... don’t you think she’s actually really shy?”

‘Shy’ had no business with the way you’d confidently strode up to him, asking for Konoha to go out with you. Though he was blatantly thinking of the fact that you’re just messing with his head, Yukie made a point.

You’d barely made any friends in middle school, always separated from the crowds... but you’d react like it didn’t matter. You were always on a different wavelength with the special treatment the teachers gave you, so he hadn’t bothered to talk much with you either. The whole time you were so quiet back then, was it because you were trying to understand the situation?

Now Konoha felt really bad for calling you a ‘creep’. “Geez...”

“Hey, hey, hey! G’morning!”

Like the heavens had heard his woes, they sent him Bokuto for God knows what reason. Barreling inside the club room, the wing spiker was an untamed ball of energy and mischief that Konoha didn’t want anything to do with right about now.

“Y’know, a couple of girls approached me today at lunch. I was super shocked and everything,” Bokuto trumpeted, unravelling his tie. “My chances have grown pretty big since I started using my straights, don’t you think?”

“Not bigger than your head, I hope,” the blonde scoffed.

Raising an eyebrow at him, Bokuto laughed raucously enough to make the entire room silent lest for the drop of a pin. Slinging an arm around Konoha, he poked at his sides making the boy flinch and jump.

“Heey, Konoha-kun... You don’t have to be so mean when you’re jealous~” he grinned. Konoha rolled his eyes in retort. “You’ll get your big chance one day.”

Bokuto’s attempt at being passive-aggressive was just so Bokuto that anyone in the right mind would’ve found it extremely annoying. Konoha didn’t even know if he was even “jealous” anymore; the entire concept of having the ace constantly pester him everyday for the rest of his life for being so lonely was exceptionally haunting.

And to think that he’d constantly thought the things that came out of Bokuto’s mouth could be genius... maybe it had just been provoking. Blood boiling. As the others stifled their quiet snickers, Konoha reached for his pant pocket, the stiff outline of his cellphone taking the shape of his palm. Perhaps he could humor you. Just this once.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Good morning, Aki-chan!”

Snapping his head quick enough for whiplash, Konoha’s widened stare locked itself on your beaming profile. Putting two and two together, he reddened at the affectionate name you had gifted him.

“L-L/N-san, you don’t have to call me that...”

As you bent down to slip your outside shoes from your delicate feet, the boy couldn’t help but to ogle at your tantalizing figure, but quickly averted his gaze once you smirked at his actions. Keep it together, teenage hormones! he scolded himself.

“Why not, though? I mean, we’re dating now. You can call me by my first name too if you want, you know.”

That’s right. Fueled by the frustration he’d harbored for his friends, Konoha took the action of texting you back, saying that he’d taken up your offer. Your reply was nothing short of innocent giddiness and delirium that he’d felt the searing tightness of regret in his chest.

But it wasn’t like you wouldn’t be able to see through his intentions soon enough. If anything, you’d even brought it up during your “confession”. You’ll be fine, Konoha had convinced himself. Like the rumors said, if you didn’t like it, you’d probably just leave. You knew that much, at least.

“I don’t think couples immediately start calling each other by their given names on the first day they go out. Besides, isn’t this just a trial run?”

“You’re supposed to get the entire experience in a trial run, right?”

“Well yes, but—”

“Don’t you want to get as much out of two months as possible?”

He’d almost forgotten about the limited time he’d have to use you against Bokuto and Komi before you mentioned it to him again. Two months is long enough, he thought, the effect will last even longer if they knew I was dating L/N-san.

“Right, L/N-san.”

“Y/N.”

“Um... L/N...chan?”

“Y/N-chan.”

“Anyway!” Konoha slammed the door to his shoe locker for emphasis, privy to his crimson cheeks. “Homeroom’s about to begin. D’you want me to take you to your class on my way?”

You looked up at him placidly, “Class 5 is on the end of the hallway though... Won’t that mean I’d be taking you to your class?”

Moving behind you to give you an encouraging push on your shoulders, your new boyfriend sighed hurriedly, “Yes, yes. Let’s just go already, L/N-san.”

And like it was your birthday, your face lit up like Christmas lights. Pulling the arms that rested on your arms so it wound securely around your torso, you looked over your shoulder to send the flushed second-year a grin.

“Oookay! The Aki-chan-Y/N-chan train is leaving the station, hold on tight~”

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

The face Iori gave you made you think your lungs would fall off from laughing. Your light-haired classmate blinked twice before realizing that his knife was close to grazing his finger. Giving the fragrant chocolate one last slice, the bassist turned to you for affirmation.

“Taichou’s cheating on Lennon-chan... How daring...”

Veins popping from the grip on the rolling pin, you leered at him from where you were standing. “Do the three of you still think I’m married to my guitar?”

“Of course—Ow! Don’t hit me with a pin if you know I’m right!”

“Now, now, L/N-san, Tsuyoshi-san, don’t get too excited about making cookies back there,” your bearded Home Economics teacher (who’d heavily reminded you of an endearing bear) guffawed heartily, before turning to the left side of the class in utter concern. “W-wait, Shirofuku-san, don’t directly eat the dough!”

Nudging you with his elbow, Iori whispered, “So... two months? How do you know the guy’s not just using you to get back at the Volleyball Club?”

Turning on the tap, you let the cool torrent of water pool in your hands before replying to your bandmate earnestly.

“Oh, he is using me to get back at the Volleyball Club. I figured it out when he texted me back. ‘S not a big deal, though.”

Iori’s shoulder drooped in melancholy. It was sad, on the verge of plain out pathetic. You were his friend, for Heaven’s sake. Yet, he knew you were lonely. Of course, he felt eternally relieved that at least he and the rest of PARANOIA could temporarily lift that despondency from you. But due to God’s intent, neither of them were fated to completely understand your dispositions. And for that, he lamented behind the wall that the world planted around you, unable to reach out nor sympathize. If this Konoha guy was your last resort to your long-term goal of universal comprehension, then it better not be a big deal.

“People say it takes about 2 to 3 months to fall in love with a person. If these two months don’t turn our relationship in the path we want, then... I don’t care if we break up too. It wasn’t like I expected much from myself in the first place.”

“Taichou...”

In the solemn silence that followed your words, your nose perked up at a certain toasty smell coming from behind your friend.

“Iori-kun, the chocolate.”

“Don’t change the subject. You need to consider if this “relationship” will really make you happy.”

“Iori-kun, it’s burning.”

“I know despite your flaming desire for love, you—Aagh!! My chocolate! Taichou, why didn’t you say anything?!”

You scratched your nape as you watched your frantic classmate splash the bowl of darkened chocolate with a flood of cold water, kindling plumes of sweet-smelling smoke to rise softly in the class.

Happiness. You frowned back at Iori’s words (as the latter sobbed at his valiant efforts in scraping his overly-meticulous work from the steaming bowl). I’m already happy enough though.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“L/N-san... You don’t have to follow me to lunch on the first week,” Konoha grimaced at the girl trailing behind him through the staircase.

“Why not though? We’re—”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he rustled, “We’re dating. Yes, yes... But don’t you usually sit with your band during this time? Won’t they ask where you are?”

You hummed hopping down the last few steps before turning around gracefully in front of your boyfriend. “Mm... I think they’ll be more thankful they’re getting a day off from me. Don’t worry though, I won’t say anything if I don’t have to!”

Oh boy.

“L/N-chan’s at our lunch spot...” Bokuto murmured blankly.

Amongst the burly volleyball players eating their lunches in the courtyard, you seemed like a dainty flower about to be devoured by a pack of Titans—as if you weren’t the more threatening one in the bunch. While the familiar third-years gawked with their heads short-circuiting in your presence, the meek first-year setter politely bowed, his obvious ignorance of you surfacing.

“L/N-chan’s eating lunch with us...” you watched Bokuto aimlessly mumble against the yakisoba bread in his mouth.

“Bokuto! Don’t go to the light! W-we’re sorry about this, L/N-chan,” Komi shook the owl-headed spiker in his trance. Thrusting his own box of food towards you, he reddened. “P-please have some of my sausages as an apology, O’ Great Deity!”

Sarukui pulled the libero back by his blazer, sending the boy flying backwards with his bento still thankfully intact. “Hey, Komi, don’t just suddenly ambush a girl like that... Say, L/N-san, you want to try some of my tamagoyaki*?”

“Saru, you leech!”

Anyone who was passing by could indefinitely tell that this group of people was undoubtedly hazardous. An overly-excited Bokuto who had sparks and smoke coming out of his head, an apprehensive Akaashi trying to calm their spiker down, Komi and Sarukui wrestling over their lunch boxes, a bulky but terrified Washio who was slowly edging away from the crowd, a Konoha who was gradually regretting his choices and a L/N Y/N, though seemingly frail, was able to create chaos with a bat of an eye.

Watching the entire ruckus go down, you did feel a bit bored. Gaze flickering to your side, your mouth watered, “Ooh, Aki-chan, is that spicy konnyaku*?”

“Huh? Yeah, you want some, L/N-san?” your boyfriend said, offering you his food nonchalantly.

Dipping your chopsticks into his box, you flashed him a beam brighter than any sparkling night. “Thank you for the food~ Mm, not spicy enough...”

In the silence where you chewed the stinging cake, the Volleyball Club’s bedlam had finally subsided. Their star-struck gazes at you replaced with incredulous glares at Konoha who proceeded with his meal in peace.

“‘Aki-chan’...” Komi repeated. “What’s going on with you two?”

Leering in mischief, Konoha grinned. Chest puffed out like a breasted bird, he set down his food before taking your hand and raising it for the rest to see. At the warmth of his hand, you couldn’t help but redden from the blood that rose to your face. Moments like this really did remind you why you thought he’d seemed so attractive from the beginning.

“Oh, I haven’t told you yet? We’re dating,” he smirked, making sure that he drew out each syllable, prolonging his announcement as much as possible.

“Huh?!”

Dwarfing the previous catastrophe into the size of an ant, the boys went frantic again. Even Bokuto who’d seemed so shocked by your attendance, snapped out of his daze from the outrageous amount of disbelief.

“E-eh?! Konoha and... L/N-chan... no way. That doesn’t make sense... something’s not right...”

You smiled behind the soft pads of your fingers. Noticing Konoha’s worried gesture, you played along, much to his delight, “What is it, Bokuto-kun? You also have girls surrounding you. What’s so different?”

“Ehhh? Lost your chances, Bokuto?” Konoha continued, the smirk on his face growing wider.

“Dammit! The Great Deity’s going to get stained... she’s going to get stained...” Komi wailed.

“Bokuto-san stopped breathing! Konoha-san, do something!”

He felt like it had rained after years and years of a drought. Refreshing. Cool. Satisfying. The same people who’d teased him for lacking a ‘chance’ was now melted in the head from his relationship. It was exactly how he wanted it to be. And you played it out so perfectly for him. A beautiful ‘girlfriend’ with a heart of gold.

Sighing, Konoha smiled at your giggling face. He wondered. For someone so advantaged and strange, you only seemed like a high school girl to him right now. Just his ‘girlfriend’ for two months. Not the genius L/N Y/N, not the zealous musician L/N Y/N. Just... L/N Y/N.

The shrill shriek of a chime brought you to wake, as you pulled him up from his seat while snickering. “It’s getting very loud here, isn’t it? Come, Aki-chan, I’ll take you to class again.”

Tightening his grip on yours, he gave you a knowing nod before following you to escape the scene in a trail of laughter. As the bell subsided in your wake, you didn’t even realize you’d arrived at the second-year hallways. And all that while interlacing hands.

Quickly retracting your hand, you sheepishly glanced at your shoes, “Ah, sorry. You probably don’t want to have that much physical contact so soon.”

Damn, if you were already pretty with even a poker face on, seeing your blushing face took the cake. “N-no, it’s fine. Thanks for backing me up back there. I don’t think anyone would’ve believed me if you didn’t say something.”

Tilting your head sideways, you said, “It was getting a bit dull, so I was glad we made it more lively. You’re very entertaining, did you know?”

“And so are you, Y/N-chan,” he smiled, ruffling your hair.

In the light of the midday sun, Konoha Akinori was blind to his own natural appeal. It was unfair and admittedly cool of him to just ensnare you with a dazzling twinkle, all while taking you by surprise with a reposeful call of your name. Your middle school classmate who’s now your temporary boyfriend... you just wanted to have him all to yourself forever.

He couldn’t deny it. You were magnetizing. Attractive in a way that lived beyond beauty and intelligence. Konoha couldn’t believe that someone so strange would make his chest go tight. It disappointed him that it would only be temporary. Once the two months expired, you’d treat him like no more than a stranger. But just this once, he wanted to relish this quiet moment with you.

Suddenly, like an iron wall had emerged from the ground between the both of you, your phone rang. You didn’t know if you felt relieved that your embarrassment was interrupted or were you annoyed because of it.

Quickly reading over the text, you smiled eagerly. “Ooh! Iori-kun finally finished the reservations for the live house!”

Konoha had almost forgot you were in a band. A rock band that consisted of you and three other male members. Lips faltering, he bit his tongue. They’re her bandmates, Akinori! What are you so jealous for? It’s not like you’re her real boyfriend or anything...

“Got a performance coming up, L/N-san?”

“Yep! It’s our first anniversary show since we formed PARANOIA,” you said, trailing off before a light bulb flickered in your head. “Do you want to come and watch? It’s in a few months.”

And like a cupid had shot his heart, Konoha found himself with a ticket for one to PARANOIA’s Anniversary Concert by the end of the day. Concert tickets that would expire the same day as your relationship.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

If you could list down all the things that happened this past few months, you’d probably end up describing it as “adventurous”. Even for you who’d expect a couple things or two from the start, the things you could do while in a relationship took you by surprise most of the time.

Little by little, your boyfriend had opened up to your usual audacious advances. Compared to the cuter, more nervous Konoha who you approached two months back, this Konoha was more bold, and vivacious. And unbearably even more attractive than you’d hoped he’d be. But he was considerate as usual—though you wished he wasn’t, because this ‘modesty’ of his was especially embarrassing on your end.

His friends slowly got used to your presence (while Bokuto was still slightly dazed from your relationship status). You came to the Volleyball Club’s practice matches, both under Konoha’s request and your own bored intentions. And it came to your attention that he flaunted his feathers more vigorously when you were around. Fukurodani’s Jack-of-All-Trades, Master of None... was much more of a show-off than you’d thought. How amusing, you’d think.

On the other hand, your bandmates had kept hanging on to their belief that you were still easily aroused when it came to your guitar (though you were very sure that it was more of a teasing gesture than their own immature stupidity). For this reason, you’d dragged a pale-faced Konoha to your practices in the Light Music Club more often than he’d hoped. He was your stamp of proof that even you had standards—a terrified-looking stamp that flinched whenever Reo spoke to him.

“Reo, you ever thought of putting on a Precure shirt on when you talk to people?” you’d said to him one day, as Konoha’s ears perked up from your conversation.

“No,” the drummer had replied vacantly, giving his other bandmates a boiling glare when they stifled their giggles.

“Ehh? Why not? Your gorilla face is just too intimidating for the world to get used to, so if you wear a shirt from the cute anime you love—”

“L-L/N! You promised to never say I liked Precure out loud! K-Konoha-san, please forget about this!”

And that day, you’d seen Konoha laugh. A genuine laugh not laced with nervousness or pity. A laugh caused by your own honest-to-morbid humor. It had been a pretty laugh. And Konoha admitted he hadn’t laughed so freely in such a long time.

There was also countless things he’d never done in such a long time, and all that was revived in a mere two months with you in tow. Eating spicy hotpot with you until his lips grew swollen, visiting a CD shop to spam all the music players in the store to play the same song, teaching someone to serve a ball, studying together in the library (though he ended up studying much less with your intricate rambling). Your penchant for boredom made you seem brighter to him. And Konoha began to wonder if it was a crime to finally realize he had feelings for you, even when he’d used you to get his friends off his back.

She’s better off not dating a jerk like me, he’d decided.

But it hurt. It was like a thousand daggers had pierced through his heart every second he thought that it’d be over soon. It hurt to admit that Konoha thought you were funny, pretty, smart and so goddamn endearing.

He loved you. He loves you. But just because he does, doesn’t mean you do.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“Thank you for your support for this past year! Please continue to give PARANOIA your love for the following years to come!”

Your throat felt hoarse from the singing, but as soon as you stepped inside the dressing room, it was all squeals and giggles again. Even the high-strung Tsumugi, forehead shining in sweat, was jumping up and down with an equally excited Iori in his embrace. And for a while, Reo seemed much softer than his usual demeanor.

“Reo-kun~ That a smile on your face?” Iori teased once the four of you had settled down.

“Shut up, ‘Ori, you’re grinning like an idiot too,” he shot back.

Tsumugi piped up, untying his tie from your stage outfits, “It’s good that we’re smiling, isn’t it? We played really well, we should at least appreciate ourselves for that effort.”

Moving towards your unsuspecting underclassman, you poked him behind his ear, amusedly watching him flinch and swat your hand away. “Ah, MugiMugi’s talking like a wise, old man, but that totally contradicts how much you were hopping around during our last song, right? Young people are cute, aren’t they?”

Blushing profusely, he scoffed, “Don’t call me cute when you have a boyfriend. That’s just troublesome, senpai.”

And like the devil had ushered for him, a knock sounded on the door. Reo, closest to the entrance, swung the door open and gave their guest a pleased smile.

“Ooh... it’s Konoha. Thought it’d be my admirers or something,” he muttered in a mock pout.

“Ehh, you have plenty of admirers out there, Mizushima-san,” Konoha chuckled. “But I’m here for your guitarist.”

When Reo, Tsumugi and Iori moved out of your way to rush to the exit to “leave the both of you alone”, you placed your hands on your boyfriend’s shoulders. “Say, Aki-chan, let’s go on a date right now.”

“Right now?! Where?”

“There’s an arcade nearby,” you chirped before leaning over to whisper flatly into his ear, “It’s our last day. Let’s make it count.”

He nodded, but his face faltered at your forced grin as you led him out the door in your typical “Aki-chan-Y/N-chan train” fashion. Last day, huh? That’s right. Konoha had nearly forgotten about it. And the fact that you’d brought it up panged across his chest. This “train” of yours could just be the last time he’d ever be so close to you. The real you.

After that, nothing.

Determination crowning his face, he grabbed your hand as you exited the live house and rushed to get to the arcade as soon as his legs could carry him. Too soon. Two months passed by too soon. Not yet. Not yet.

It couldn’t end like this.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“For someone with really good analytical senses, you suck at claw machines.”

You elbowed his side, laughter bubbling from your lips. “Look who’s talking! You looked like you were going to eat me when I scored a point in that air hockey game.”

Stopping in his tracks on the quiet sidewalk, Konoha winced at the memory. Perhaps he should’ve held back, considering you were a girl. But that would’ve been a stupid move altogether, knowing that you’d expect his moves. Konoha won anyway, much to his surprise—but only to have the game spew out a total of zero tickets before you realized the machine was faulty.

“What did you get with your tickets?”

Rummaging in your pocket, you pulled out a plastic package with a silver chain glinting inside it. “A souvenir for you. Mm, if I had more tickets, I would’ve gotten you a rice cooker or something~”

Taking your offering, Konoha raised his eyebrows. “A flower necklace? Shouldn’t you keep this sort of present? I mean, you won it and everything—”

“Keep it. It’s a gift for putting up with me this entire time.”

“Ah... thanks.”

Konoha wanted to say something. Anything to make the moment last. Alas, nothing. You didn’t say anything either—not like you could. It’s over now. Everything has ended. Did you grow to love him in the end? You didn’t know.

“It’s... getting a bit late. We should go home,” Konoha said. Though he wished he didn’t. “I guess this is goodbye... Thanks for being my girlfriend, L/N-san.”

You said nothing in reply as he slowly turned his back to you to leave. It was a temporary thing, things that come and go. And he’d used you to his own advantage against his luckless friends. But why were you so worried about his goodbye? You’d pulled off this entire thing in hopes to feel a romantic love that you couldn’t comprehend. It was supposed to be fluffy and heart-pounding like your mother and your brothers’ manga had described it to be.

But it was painful. Like a skyrocketing jolt of pain that nearly made your knees buckle. Why? You didn’t even know if you could love someone when you’ve been isolating yourself for so long... You loved your family, you loved your band, but did you love Konoha? You didn’t get it. What’s with that...

“I don’t understand...”

Hearing a quiet sniffle with a familiar lilt, Konoha spun around to be met with your teary gaze. And it was like the entire word had been sucked into a meaningless void, and the both of you were left to inhabit this desolate world.

“H-hey, L/N-san... d-don’t cry, come on,” he rushed to your aid as more tears rolled down your cheek soundlessly. Oh, how Konoha wished he knew how to comfort a crying girl. “Look, I’m here. I-it’s okay, it’s okay. Agh, I’m not very good at this... um...”

“I’m sorry I made you do this,” you wept. “I’m sorry I forced you into dating someone you don’t like. Everything’s all wrong...”

“Y-you don’t have to apologize! It was fun, everything was fun with you,” he blabbered, hands rubbing soothing circles on your arm. “I-it was my fault too... I just wanted to get back at Bokuto and Komi that I—”

Crap, he said it.

“I knew you were using me for that. I’ve always known.”

Konoha froze. Of course you’d find out, he’d established that point the moment he texted you in agreement. But something about your revelation made it feel like he had committed homicide. He really just wanted to crawl into a hole and die.

“I thought I wouldn’t mind if you broke up with me since you’d accomplished your goal... but I’m so upset. You used me but you treated me well. You used me but you made me feel loved. You don’t seem to have any feelings for me, but you made me like you... like like you. I don’t get what you’re trying to do. Konoha-kun’s so confusing...”

The entire time you’d been making him feel butterflies in his stomach... you were trying to understand him? Konoha frowned. Gutting any residual feeling of doubt, he grabbed a plastic package in his coat pocket and shoved it in your hands.

“You don’t have to understand anything if it makes you happy!”

Your blood ran cold. He’d never shouted at you. But the determined expression on his face urged you to open the package sitting daintily in your palm. It was the same chrysanthemum necklace you’d given him. Was he giving it back? No... this necklace was slightly different from the one you gave him.

“I got it for you when you were out to the restroom. I was planning to confess to you with this after our date, but you made it seem like you didn’t like me. What’s with that, huh? Of course I like you! You don’t think I regret using you for a petty revenge every single moment we went out? When you made it so hard for me to not fall for you?”

Konoha couldn’t even hear the words coming out of his mouth. Whatever they were, he hoped he got his message through to you. Good and honest. Honest and true. Panting, he watched your tears slowly subside.

Wiping the droplets with the sleeve of your jacket, you weakly punched him on the chest. “You’re an idiot for falling for me.”

Ruffling your hair, he sighed, “That makes two of us. Idiot.”

As the silence dwindled, you played with the hems of your skirt as you spoke quietly, “So, are you going to do it?”

“Do what?”

“Confess.”

“Ha... now? Right here?” he groaned with a cheeky cadence.

“Don’t mess around. I’ll definitely cry again if you don’t do it.”

Chuckling, Konoha pulled back from you with the necklace he’d gifted you back in his hands. “Yes, yes. How bossy...”

He bowed. In the middle of a public sidewalk. But it didn’t matter, because whatever was going to happen next was in your control.

“L/N Y/N-san! I’ve always liked you since middle school when we were on cleaning duty together and you helped me erase the blackboard. My feelings died out for a while because I thought you’d be too distracted to acknowledge me, but after two months of your “trial experiment”, I’ve grown to like you again. So please! Go out with me.”

“Ehh... that was much blander than I’d thought...”

Suddenly, Konoha knew how Reo felt when he’d wonder whether or not you were giving out enlightenment or backhanded comments. Clicking his tongue, he crossed his arms. “How would you do it?”

Proudly clearing your throat, you bowed as he did. “Konoha Akinori-kun, the ignorant fool from Class 2. I’ve come to realize my feelings for you. Though I don’t remember the ‘you’ from middle school, I’m glad you were there to remember me anyway. You were right. The time we spent together was fun; I don’t think I’ll ever get bored with you around... If you will, please accept my humble feelings. I want to keep understanding things with you. That itself would bring me the greatest joy in the world.”

“That... that was actually pretty good. Though, let’s talk about the part where you called me an ignorant fool—”

As Konoha spoke, you reached into his pocket to extract the necklace you’d given him earlier. Placing it in his palm, you smiled warmly, relishing in the blush that dusted his face. “I’ll be in your care, Aki-chan.”

Slipping his own necklace into your hold, he clasped your hands together. “So will I, Y/N-chan.”

And like déjà vu, your stomach rumbled loudly. Embarrassing, you groaned.

Taking one hand in his, the both of you walked through the sidewalk. “Wanna eat? I’ll pay.”

“...Sichuan hotpot*...” you said under your breath.

“No way! I’ll end up with diarrhea like last time. We’ll just eat fast food...”

“Ehehe, Aki-chan can’t handle spicy food~”

“Y/N-chan, pick on me one more time and I’ll split the bill.”

As the two of you burst out in laughter, your arms swung back on forth against the course of the wind. Neither of you even thought of letting go.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

“K-Konoha’s wearing a flower necklace... Dude. If you have a secret you want to tell us, we can always financially support you...”

“Bokuto, I don’t know what ridiculous things are going on in your head, but I know they’re absolutely wrong.”

Buttoning up the last button of his shirt, he slipped the silver chain behind the fabric, it’s steel coolness imprinting itself near his tepid heart. Noticing the faint chirps of little sparrows, Konoha turned his attention to the light streaming from the west-side window. Autumn’s here.

“Hey, are you going to eat with L/N-san again today?” the ever-smiling Sarukui called for him from the door.

“Ah, yeah. She said she wanted to show me a new song she was working on.”

Chuckling, his friend let out a long breath, “Lucky you.”

Konoha smiled. Lucky indeed, he thought as you waved at him from where you stood below. In the green of the plush fall grass, yellow, pink, red and white blossoms surrounded the courtyard where you’d first approached him. Yellow, pink, red, white, and two silver chrysanthemums to welcome the new season.

══════ ⋆★⋆ ══════

Glossary:

taichou - captain/leader

tamagoyaki - japanese rolled omelettes

konnyaku - japanese yam cakes

sichuan hotpot - a REALLY spicy hotpot with sichuan peppers

[kketilin]

A Handkerchief Love Story

Eijun tells the story of how he and Mei first met

[Part 2 of my ‘A Shoujo Manga Love Story’ Series!]

Ao3 link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32659480

Pairing: Narumiya Mei x Sawamura Eijun

Prompt(s): First Meeting / Transfer Student / Childhood Friends

Honestly, they don’t know if they were expecting it or not

It seemed like any conversation between one brunette pitcher and pink haired pinch hitter involving the word “Mei” ends with one Kominato Haruichi gushing

How did it even start?

Oh, right. Most of Seidou’s first stringers were hanging out in Miyuki’s room (bless his roommate that no one even knows for letting them stay there all the time) after another day of hard work at practice when a young pink haired second baseman named Kominato Haruichi crawled over to the side of the bed where Sawamura Eijun was settled down

That of course wasn’t really anything out of the ordinary considering how close the two first years were, what was unnatural was the words that slipped off the smaller teen’s mouth when he approached the pitcher  

“Ne, Eijun-kun... how did you and Narumiya-san meet?”

It wasn’t really a secret that the two southpaws had some sort of history together after hearing about a certain curry story

And they figured that the blonde southpaw probably had a crush on Sawamura

(Though they weren’t sure if he still did (Haruichi secretly wished he still did))

So, it really wasn’t a surprise people were interested in hearing more about their story

Sawamura blinked twice and put tapped his chin with a finger, probably trying to recall the events before he started to talk animatedly to one eager pink haired batter.  

The others tried to listen in (of course) but Sawamura’s voice was surprisingly quieter than usual and they couldn't hear a thing over Kuramochi’s annoyingly loud video games

It didn’t take long before one Kominato Haruichi started to squeal and giddily drummed his fingers on his lap, again.

Should they even be surprised?

“Harucchi?! What’s wrong?!” the southpaw exclaimed, confused as his best friend buried himself in a pillow, gushing

“What’s the story this time, Bakamura?” Kuramochi yelled from the floor, finally turning off his video games

“About how I first met Mei...?”  

“Yeah, we heard that much,” Sawamura frowned and opened his mouth probably to protest but Kuramochi spoke again “I’m asking you to tell the story”

The pitcher blinked twice before proceeding to tell the story “Well... I met him in a forest...?”

Well, that was unexpected.  

“Forest? Why?”  

“He got lost, I think.” He answered and someone (a catcher who shall not be named) laughed, earning him a cat-eyed glare from the pitcher “He probably tripped because knee was bleeding and he couldn’t really walk so I took my handkerchief and wrapped it around his leg then carried him back to our house”

“Let me guess, the next day you saw him standing beside your teacher as the new transfer student and the sensei made him seat beside you. Am I right?” Jun asked

Haruichi suddenly let out a small squeal

Sawamura on the other hand suddenly stood up (hitting his head in the process) and pointed a finger towards Jun “EXACTLY!! How did you know?! Are you psychic spitz-senpai?!”  

Oh my god... That’s actually what happened?

How was that even possible? Sawamura is a year younger than Narumiya

Then again, shoujo manga logic doesn’t really makes sense most of the time

And their story was basically like a shoujo manga already based on the two stories they’ve already heard

It was only a matter of seconds before Haruichi started to gush over the story all over again, Kuramochi was once again crouched on the floor with his face hidden in his knees, both Tanba and Masuko had their palms over their blushing faces while Miyauchi huffed with reddening ears, Nori and Shirasu (surprisingly) actually giggled, Tetsu’s face was unreadable as always but the corner of his lips curled into a soft smile and Ryousuke just smiled amusedly at the reactions  

Jun buried his (pink) face in his palm and groaned “goddammit what kind of shoujo manga is this?!”  

“Eh? Shoujo manga? What do you mean?” Sawamura looked at Jun, and everyone else, with a puzzled face

The team let out a chorus of groans, again.

...He’s so frustratingly dense

They really can’t help but feel bad for Narumiya  

The poor guy had a crush on one oblivious idiot named Sawamura Eijun

“Why are you all looking at me like I'm some kind of idiot?!” the pitcher screeched when he noticed all eyes in the room were on him  

“Because you are” Kuramochi spat before turning back to his video games

“I feel so sorry for Mei oh god” Miyuki started cackling “This idiot is too dense”  

Sawamura only hissed in response (he probably didn’t even understand what he meant but was offended anyways when he was called an ‘idiot’) and gave the catcher another cat-eyed glare before storming out of the room

- - -

“Hic... s-somebody...”

Eijun pushed through bushes as he tried to follow the sound of tears and the voice of a child trying to call for help.  

It didn’t take long before he found a blonde child around his age on the floor, sobbing

“Are you alright..?” he asked and the boy finally looked up to him, moist sapphire eyes that looked as if it was shining due to the tears met his

“I-It hurts...” Eijun followed the boy’s gaze to his bleeding knee which immediately made the brunette panic. He scanned the area looking for... something, anything, but soon realized that there’s nothing deep in the forest that could help. He took his handkerchief from his pocket and wrapped it around the bleeding knee before kneeling in front of the blonde

“Huh?”

“Hop on! I’ll carry you!”

- - -

“We have a new classmate today! He’s a transfer student all the way from Tokyo and he’s a year older than all of you since he started school late. go on and introduce yourself” The teacher gestured for the kid to move forward

Eijun’s eyes widened as he saw familiar pale blond hair and a pair of sapphire blue eyes, the same kid who he had helped yesterday was now standing in front of their class as the new transfer student

“I’m Narumiya Mei” he introduced as the teacher wrote the Kanji on the chalkboard.  

“There’s an empty desk besides Sawamura-kun, you can sit there” She points to the empty seat next to Eijun, making the brunette perk up as the blonde made their way

“Hi! I’m Sawamura Eijun! Is your knee alright now?”

He extended a hand and smiled at the blonde who turned away for some reason

“I-It’s fine!”

- - -

“Alright, class is dismissed! Don’t forget to do your homework!” The teacher reminded as he exited the classroom

Eijun quickly placed his pencils and papers back in his bag and was just about to stand up to leave the classroom when he noticed Narumiya approaching him, arms hidden behind his small frame, his eyes looking down as to not meet him and cheeks were... tinted red?

“Oh! Narumiya-kun!” He greeted “Do you need something?” he tilted his head sideways as he watched the blonde open and close his mouth like a fish, unable to get words out

“H-Here” the blonde held out his hand, revealing his handkerchief that he had used to wrap around the blonde’s bleeding knee yesterday washed and clean “Thanks for yesterday, Sawamura-san...”

“No problem!” Eijun beamed at the smaller kid “Call me Ei-chan! That’s what all of my friends call me!”

“B-But..”

“We’re friends now! Mei-kun!”

“Alright then.. Ei-chan!”

[melodiesofblueroses]

𝘍𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘧𝘭𝘪𝘦𝘴

→ 𝘠𝘰𝘰𝘴𝘶𝘯𝘨 𝘹 𝘙𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳

✣ Summary: Yoosung and (mc) spend some time together in a field filled with fireflies, all the while he is reflecting on his feelings for her. 

✣ Genre: Fluff

✣ Word count: ~1.5k

✣ 𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘴 𝘶𝘱: f!reader

“Why do fireflies die so soon?” Yoosung asked as he carefully observed the field before him. Amidst the tall grass, and quite frankly, pesky bugs that nibbled on his arms and legs, the glowing fireflies lit up the sunset sky. It was a breathtaking sight, only adding to its beauty as the sun continued to lower in the sky and the darkness of the night sky followed suit. This backdrop combined with the soft chirps of the cicadas and crickets of night life eased Yoosung’s messy mind. it was the perfect formula, but it was missing something, an important element that Yoosung was rather desperate for, a girlfriend.

Well, it wasn’t so bad. Yoosung was with his crush, after all, just sitting in the field and basking in scenic view as well as some cool night air to take their minds off things. Finals were right around the corner, and (mc) had invited Yoosung to watch the sunset and fireflies in order to destress a little. He liked to think of it as a date, an invitation or sign that (mc) did think of him in the same light, but Yoosung knew that he was probably pushing it. (mc) was very kind to everyone, after all, maybe moreso him since the two had gone to the same high school and now attended the same university. Heck, they even shared a few classes and breaks in between, but that was mere coincidence, although Yoosung did like to think of it as fate. Or maybe he was just imagining things. 

“mm, i’m not sure, but it’s just the way of life,” (mc) hummed, staring at the many fireflies that buzzed around the field. They seemed to flash their lights in almost a pattern-like way. It was mesmerizing in a sense. “But in return, they get to provide such a beautiful light show, so it isn’t such a bad deal huh, at least i don’t think so.” (mc) turned to look at Yoosung who was currently sitting still as to not scare off the firefly that landed rather abruptly on his nose. It was a cute scene, and Yoosung’s tense figure was priceless that (mc) couldn’t help but giggle. 

“Doesn’t seem like a fair trade though,” he huffed, careful not to scare off the little guy that was currently making his nose glow a neon green hue. It also didn’t help that (mc) had cutely laughed at his current position, which only made him flush a deep red, a look that Yoosung didn’t want (mc) to see him in. Therefore, Yoosung turned his head, the sudden motion scaring away the firefly as it flew off into the night sky. 

Contrary to his thought process, this action just made (mc) giggle more, which made Yoosung blush harder, and it was an endless feedback loop. As long as she was getting solid entertainment out of this though, then everything was fine. He wanted nothing more than to make her happy after all, even if his love was one-sided. 

“You’re so cute Yoosung.”

“I-I’m not cute, I’m a man you know,” was what he tried to respond, but the words more likely than not ended up as an incoherent string of words with a few stutters mixed in here and there. Hngg, it was so embarrassing for him, yet quite exhilarating (guess he is a bit of a masochist after all). In his mind, for his crush to call him cute must mean that she was at the very least quite fond of him. Regular friends don’t go around calling one another cute, right? For all he knew, (mc) might’ve meant it in a platonic way. But Yoosung wanted to live out his shoujo dreams, so for his beating heart, even if it was a delusion, he’d believe that (mc) truly thought of him as cute. 

Trying his best to calm his heart, Yoosung put up his best front and pouted, puffing up his chest a bit to show (mc) that he was, in fact, not cute but manly (although this probably just made him more cute in (mc)’s eyes). It wasn’t long, however, until he burst into a fit of laughter, breaking the tense atmosphere that had enveloped him, and (mc) followed suit soon after, laughing along with him. the relaxing insect noises were soon drowned out by the contagious laughter from the two lovebirds, and the tall grass that turned dark upon the fall of nighttime seemed to sway with them. 

There was the faintest of light coming from the horizon, the tiny sliver that presented itself just before the sun completely retired for the night, but the stars and fireflies still made their presence, larger than the sun had to offer. the laughter soon died out, and unbeknownst to the both of them, they had huddled in closer to one another, now touching knees and shoulders. Well, it didn’t entirely go over their heads but rather that it didn’t quite register within their minds yet. Soon enough, (mc) had unconsciously put her head on Yoosung’s shoulder, to which he responded by wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her in closer, if that was even possible. Platonic or not, cuddles were always appreciated, and so the two of them shared warmth and cuddled underneath the night sky as the fireflies started to die down and the wind picked up pace.

This was, in fact, quite the perfect time to confess, at least that’s what Yoosung was thinking at the moment. It was now only a matter of courage, which he, without a doubt, lacked. Yoosung wasn’t entirely sure whether or not she felt the same way or whether the bond they shared was platonic, and he couldn’t possibly think of the humiliation he would have to bear if she was to turn him down. It was just so nerve-wracking, but he knew that there was no choice but to do it. There was a chance, after all, that she would reciprocate his feelings, and even if it was slim, it was better than nothing. Yes, rejection was hard and an undeniable outcome, but Yoosung knew he would be worse off living with the guilt of not having confessed a few years down the road.

With that, the blonde took a deep breath and reset his system, clearing his mind of all things unrelated. He opened his mouth and tried to find the right words. This was it. It was now or never. 

“(mc)-”

“Hey, Yoosung,” she cut in at the same time. He immediately quieted down and stared at (mc) who was still leaning on his shoulder, not that he minded. Yoosung didn’t respond, but instead made a cute little ‘hm’ sound, which urged (mc) to continue. “Let’s do our best on finals, ok?”

Ahh, that was an instant k.o. for our dear Yoosung, a critical hit to the heart. nothing screamed love and affection more than caring for another, an action that made Yoosung all the more weak for his loved ones. There was just something so intimate and sweet about looking out for each other. It was just a reaffirmation that (mc) did care for him, that even if it was just her, Yoosung was loved after all. Honestly, it just made him all soft and melt on the inside. Was it even possible to fall for (mc) even more? Well, if it wasn’t before, Yoosung had just broken that rule. 

“Of course, we’ll both give it our all.” It was a typical shounen protagonist response, but it just seemed right in the moment. And right it was for it made (mc) smile too, not that he could tell in the darkness of the night. The stars and now retired fireflies didn’t provide enough light for him to see, but it was just enough for him to make out the outlines of the nature before him.  

For the next couple of minutes or so, the two remained seated and just took the time to breathe the fresh air. It had been a few weeks since the two of them had gone out, and this outing would be a nice change of pace, at least until finals ended and winter break came. It was a way to clear their minds for the upcoming week, at least that’s what it was supposed to happen. He didn’t know about (mc), but Yoosung’s mind was full at the moment, although it wasn’t inherently a bad thing. 

Yoosung was lost in his thoughts about, well, everything to be honest, but it was mainly geared towards his crush (mc). Tonight would be significant, a new step in their relationship so to speak, and one that Yoosung would always remember. It could technically be counted as their first ever date, well, maybe if (mc) were to accept his confession in a few weeks’ time. And for that, he had the fireflies to thank. Although they were mere background characters, he felt as if they allowed him to bond with (mc) more, with their little light show and buzzing around. They provided the backdrop for what Yoosung thought of to be the perfect date after all. 

[gone-daddy-gone]

hi hi : ) requesting a hinayachi one-shot based off this quote "Even so, trying her best even if she’s bad at it is better than being great at hiding things." (from good morning call) - ty friendo !!!!!

Paring: Yachi x Hinata (small bit of kags x yachi cause im weak)

Word count: 1,672

Rating: E for everyone 

                    Growth,

"Even so, trying her best even if she’s bad at it is better than being great at hiding things."                        

 Yachi didn’t have to try too hard at just about any big brian activity you name. Studying? She spent half of her freetime a slave to her books. Chess? She taught kids how to play chess at summer camp every year. Coding? Her mother taught her how to code when she was in her second year of primary school. Her achilles heel, however, was matters of the physical realm. She wasn’t unhealthy by any means, but her tiny legs could never keep up with everyone else in the mile they ran and she ended up near dead last. Next to the sweet boy in her class who had a heart condition, him and Yachi got very acquainted. 

 She had never really fathomed that she would be the manager of a volleyball club when she herself can’t do many physical activities. Yet, here she was admiring her boys as they jumped and dove for balls flying at, at least sixty miles per hour. 

“Yet another amazing match Hinata-kun!” She praised her carrot top.

“Thank you Yacchan! Your words inspire me.” Hinata responded with a firm tug on his shirt where his heart is. 

“Shut up idiot you are so dramatic.” Kageyama jabbed at the smaller one before taking a long swig of his water. 

“You’re just as amazing Kageyama-kun!” 

His whole face went redder than Tendou’s hair. “T-t-thank you..” Hinata snickered.

“Since when did you have a stutter?”

“Shut up before I put you in the trash!” Yachi began to sweat as the argument escalated. Somehow their mothers came into the argument. 

“Both of you shut up! Or I’ll bench you!” Daichi called from his third year gossip circle he had formed with Suga and Kiyoko. 

“This ain’t over!” 

“Seems like it is.” He watched Kageyama walk off pissed as per usual before he turned back to Yachi, she was looking down at her hands and feet. A almost somber look had adorn her cute features. Hinata couldn’t help but feel the aching pulse in his heart as he looked over the smaller girl. Somber did not look good on his sunflower. 

“Yacchan, what's wrong?” He said with a small cock of his head. 

Yachi seemed to have been pulled out of the deep abyss of her thoughts before she gave him a small wry smile. “Nothin…” 

 She sure was a godawful liar. Hinata decided he’d let it go anyway.

 Even if he did drop it in the moment, he couldn’t help himself from re playing and re playing that moment in his head over and over. She looked, almost dejected. Like she had failed at something. Yachi never failed at anything she did, she was amazing! She was beautiful, a model student, kind, her dainty body was perfect for...spooning. 

 He stopped his train of thoughts with a firm smack to his cheeks in the middle of the hallway. Ignoring the several students who stopped to give him a concerned look. Many kids in Karasuno had observed the shrimps weird antics. 

  For a long time he had known he had a crush on her, but now of all the times was not the time to be daydreaming about her! He was being selfish! Yachi was in real pain and all he could think about was holding her body close to his like pervert! Taking a giant breath he began to ponder to himself just what could be bugging the girl. Could it be a boy? Was a boy harassing her? Just the thought of some big guy cornering her and towering over her made his blood pressure go up. He would get Kageyama and Yamaguchi to show that boy what it feels like to be afraid! How could someone pick on someone so sweet! He shot straight up out of his seat before settling back in and forcing himself to re think what he was about to act out. He didn’t know all the facts. What was he supposed to do? Search the halls for some mystery boy he wasn’t sure even existed? Tell Yama and Kags that someone was harassing Yachi and he knew because he had a hunch. Not likely. 

 He moved on to the possibility that maybe she was depressed. He knew she had anxiety, but depression was very common amongst those with anxiety. That could just as easily be what it was! He nodded his head and decided to look up how to help friends with anxiety when he got home. He took out his notebook and began to write down his theories and why he had them. 

 Two weeks had gone by and he had at least forty theories with no proof, and dead ends. He sighed, he wasn’t gonna be able to help Yachi by sneaking around and taking notes on her! He needed direct action! Fourteen days of the guessing game and he decided he had enough, he was going to present her with all his facts and ask her straight out what was happening. 

 He had arrived at her classroom and questioned all the members of the class, only to get the same frustrating answer from all of them. “Haven’t seen her” “I don’t know you spend more time with her” “who are you again?” That last one stung especially, and he found it quite unnecessary. Feeling dejected, he decided to search every spot that she frequented. The library, the trees outside of the school yard, the roof for some reason he was feeling, shoujo. Still no results! Even still, he persisted. The last spot he decided, was his last ditch effort, the most unlikely of all the spots where she would be. The gym. She had no reason to be in there after all, practice wasn’t in session and, why else would she be in there after all? 

 He slid the door open with a harsh shove already half rolling his eyes before shutting his lids and taking a step back. Before him, was very sweaty Yachi, hands on her knees and bent over hyperventilating. It was kind of a nice sight to see. He would come back to that thought later. 

“What- what are you doing?” He asked, with genuine confusion scrawled all over his face. Yachi jumped up at the intrusion of her exercising. 

“I-I’m I uh, well you see..” She began to fumble on her words and fiddle with her fingers. “Well, I uh, I was just..” Hinata began to step into the gym and make his way towards the smaller girl. Only after stepping in did he get a bigger picture. 

“Yacchan? Are you...practicing volleyball?” The look they gave each other a look of clumsy understanding was a rare one. 

“I just... wanna be more like you and Kageyama…” 

“But, you’re perfect the way you are.” His words touched her, but she moved to look away from her friend.

“I knew you and everyone would say sweet things like that… And I am thankful! So thankful for your kindness… but I don’t wanna stay the same forever. I wanna grow, I’m sick of just always being deadlast in gym class, sick of being small and frail. I just… don’t wanna be me anymore.”

“First off, don’t say that about yourself Yacchan.” He stopped what he was saying to go for her wrists, wrapping his fingers around it gingerly to establish empathy. “You can grow, it’s perfectly normal to want to grow and change, but please, don’t degrade who you are now. Because who you are now, is...is amazing. Way amazing! Way more amazing than me and Kageyama, we just hit balls around but you… You never stop supporting us, whether it be coming to our games and helping set up tear down. You have the highest grades in class, and are generous enough to entertain stupid boys like me and Kageyama...How can you not like yourself Yachi…” 

 She fiddled with her fingers once more before she spoke. “Thank you…” Her voice came out as a meer quiver. She clenched her fists and tried to hold back the tears that threatened to spill over. “I should have come to you for help...I was just embarrassed.” She waited for a reply that would never come, taking her hair and pushing it past her ears. She mustered enough courage to look up and see he was holding the ball in front of him. A silent “let's do this, together.” She nodded and held out her arms. 

 The whole team found out about Hinata’s private lessons with Yachi and soon decided that they wouldn’t be private anymore. 

“Come on Yachi! That’s it! Dive!”

“You’re gonna make her scrape her cute lil knees! Don’t tell her to dive!”

 Hinata put his hands on his hips and gave a small sigh at the sight of Nishinoya, Kageyama, and Tanaka all trying to guide her body with their words. While on the other side of the court Daichi, Tsukishima and Suga were telling her tactics, and Enoshita was tossing the balls softly. All in all it was a team effort for the precious manager. It was a beautiful sight. 

 As happy as he was that she was getting more help and support from everyone. A small bit of him was saddened that his alone time with her was taken away. As selfish as it was, as dumb as it was, he missed it all the same. You see whatever small feelings he had for her before only intensified. With each and every time she missed, each time she hit, all the times he would walk her tired self home; he couldn’t help but fall for her. Be it out of pure cowardice, or being to young he kept his feelings to himself. 

“She does have quite a way to go.” Yamaguchi whispered to no one but himself, really. 

Hinata looked up proudly at the sunflower child before stating. "Even so, trying her best even if she’s bad at it is..” He trailed off to think before he spoke for once. “better than being great at hiding things." 

[advernia]

fic: heaven just called, said it wants you back

— y'see, things naturally fall from the sky. for example, rain. hail. dead birds. bird poop. oh, then there was you. - ace of spades & alice the second.

1: alternatively - fenrir godspeed gets a bad case of the shoujo eyes, made possible by cradle's local random substance-making association ╮( ꒪౪꒪)╭

Fenrir's hands are loose fists with tingling fingers, pinching away at the fabric of his pants. Were the Ace of Spades a couple years younger and seated in front of a desk again, Dean would've taken that as a sign of another beloved student forgetting that somehow, there was a hundred-point exam waiting to be finished in five minutes.

Ah, good times.

"So - how am I, doc? Am I still good to go?"

Kyle chuckles, looping the stethoscope around his neck. "What's with the jitter, Ace of Spades? You're in tip-top shape. Heck, if I could smack some of that health onto my worst patient, he'd be outta my hair for a month or two."

"Even an untrained eye can tell that you're energetic as ever, Fenrir," Dean adds, snapping his book shut. "What made you run after Kyle when you heard that he was done doing his rounds here in Central?"

"Yeah, about that..." a scratch of the cheek, a boyish grin. "One of the smugglers I chased down earlier suddenly threw some sparkly liquid to my face. Kinda stung, yeesh."

"Oh. Sounds like a regular morning to me."

Dean does not address that comment. At all. "I see. So you sought out a doctor to check if the liquid had some adverse effect on you as a precaution."

"Right you are, prof - but if Cradle's best doc says I'm fine, then I probably am!" Fenrir beams, rising up from the bench. "Should've known though, just the usual weird bunch making all sorts of stuff with bogus effects!"

"Hm?" Kyle frowns, leaning back on the bench. "So you're saying that the sparkly stuff wasn't just meant for distraction, but it should've had some actual effect on you?"

"I guess? The smuggler did say that it will make you powerless at the face of sheer beauty, hah!"

Doctor and professor exchange glances: the no-trace-of-a-single-expression variety, face-so-perfectly-neutral variety.

Then, turning back to face Fenrir and in deadpan unison:

"What."

"I know, right? Like, what kind of effect is that?!"

.

.

.

Fenrir scours the Central Quarter's streets for at least four more hours, and he doesn't go weak in the knees at all.

Oh no, Central was already loads of pretty to begin with anyway, with its tons of market stall rows and crowds of people and various shops open for business. There's all sorts of energy teeming about from every road and alley be it good or bad, and each day there's always something new just waiting to be discovered - that's the sheer beauty in Central, if Fenrir would say so himself.

But the thing was, everything in Fenrir's perspective still looked as fine like usual: no change on how he saw his favorite spots around town (they're still the best), no change on how he saw all the people he passed by be it the group of young ladies (charming, they're all wearing new makeup) or that old man by the bookstore (pudge and wrinkle galore), no change on how he saw those stuffy Red Army goons in all their whitewashed uniform glory.

But then again, no sparkle in the world could make any Red Army goon's toothy grin look the least bit prettier in Fenrir's book.

So, yeah. In conclusion: local smuggler's liquid that will make you powerless at the face of sheer beauty?

Bogus. Slip-up. Dud. The usual back alley magic shenanigans, nothing to see here, case closed. What would true beauty even look like, and how would that render him powerless, anyway?

Ah, well. Another successful patrol under his belt, Fenrir whistles a tune on his way back to Black Army headquarters, choosing the scenic Central Quarter market route.

He regrets that in five seconds. He cringes, a shiver running down his spine, legs moving faster.

Sheer beauty, my foot.

That one tomato stall could make him walk away, but it didn't mean that it was beautiful, dammit!

.

.

.

Making his way past the Black bridge, a couple more villages, a short hike up a hill, and at last stepping within the familiar grounds of Black Army headquarters; he passes by the old man and his raccoon-skin-wearing-imp for a pet.

Nope, nothing beautiful there, especially with those sharp rows of teeth. The blooming tulips look great though!

He runs into Seth by the hallways, who, for all his claims of being the prettiest guy in the whole barracks; still looked pretty manly to the eyes.

... Okay, so maybe his hair was far from manly - did he seriously brush all those strands every single morning?

Then, at long last, the kitchen: something lingering about in the air had become a siren's call to both Fenrir's nose and stomach, amplified to the extreme when he finally makes it to the source. He just sort of stands there by the doorway for a moment, taking in a strong savory scent.

Hmm, meat in brown sauce, maybe? Or some stew or soup that was heavy on the onions?

Another sharp inhale of Fenrir's catches the attention of one of the backs facing him, of the person standing near the stove.

"Oh - welcome back, Fenrir," Luka nods, a ladle in hand.

"Heya, Mister Head Chef!" a wave back, a couple of sure paces forward. "Sooo, what're you and our assistant chef cook... ing..."

Fenrir feels his breath abruptly catch in his throat, words losing their coherence the same time his feet just stop themselves from taking another step closer.

Eyes open wide like they've never done before, as if determined to capture every detail what was unfolding before him.

.

.

.

Illuminated by bright rays of midday sunlight passing through the windows, hair he had always perceived to be a shade of honey-brown has turned golden, shining with a beautiful luster that gold itself would envy and desire to possess. The vivid color has a dazzle to it that achieves a delightful balanced feast of soothing and fascinating to the eyes, not making one have the urge to turn away or squint due to its sheer brilliance.

Its waist-length entirety had been gathered together, pulled up high, and was held secure by a white ribbon, but every single strand and every lengthy lock of gold followed and swayed; a shimmering veil dancing along in accordance to the movement of their owner - a turn of the head to look back, an action almost so painfully slow as it was simple, and the veil gives way to reveal what it has kept hidden.

Fenrir could literally feel his throat go dry.

Oh boy.

An even skin tone with touches of rose-pink undertones, absent of any prominent blemish from the tip of the forehead to the base of a very bare neck -

A face longer than it was wide, with a soft jawline that tapers from the cheeks to a rounded chin -

Neat eyebrows with delicate arches towards the tail, plump cheeks and pert nose blooming with a gentle flush perhaps due to the heat in the kitchen -

Innocently round eyes complementarily framed by long wispy lashes, holding in irises painted repeatedly with the combined natural hues taken from the clearest summer skies and cleanest waters of the sea: the end result was such an alluring blue, a shade that not even the finest jewel in the world could compare to, a color that could capture passing gazes and never let go; rendering one lost in the wonder of those eyes -

Then finally, full lips with both ends perpetually curved upwards; unpainted yet bearing a delicate peach-like tint, drawn closed but parting themselves open to say just one na -

"Fenrir!" Alice the Second smiles and just like that her face lights up - she's the sun in that very moment and he's hopelessly drawn to her, to those eyes visibly crinkling at the corners, to those eyes that were set solely on him and him alone. "Welcome home!"

Oh, man.

Seth always called her cute, but that one word hardly gave any of her features a single shred of the justice they deserved.

Here in the kitchen, standing not so far away and with the sun generously bathing her in its light, she was beautiful. Lovely. Enchanting. Divine.

Perfect.

A shaking hand pulls up to cover his mouth, fingers press down on cheeks that feel warm to the touch.

Not good. So not good.

She and Luka exchange a glance when he doesn't say anything, when he doesn't as much move from his spot. Then she - she with the blue Mary Janes protecting her dainty feet, she with the pure white socks modestly hugging her shapely legs - takes a step forward.

Towards him.

His heartbeat roars in his ears. Quite loudly, complete with relentless echoing.

Oh no. Oh no, oh n -

"Fenrir?" those pretty, pretty lips spell, with a voice kind and beckoning. He grips his face a little tighter, takes a step back, tries not to look at her lips. Tries. For his efforts, his eyes reward him with quite the pleasant view of her clothed chest - two buttons of her blouse are undone, giving way to a tantalizing view of more unblemished skin and the shape of her very prominent collarbones, and -

She takes another step forward, her lithe figure still occupies his whole line of vision, and he swears something in him is slowly dying.

Aw, shit. Remember rule number three! Rule number three, you're not supposed to -

He bumps into something as he takes another shaking step back and he takes that whatever he bumped into was a person, so he quickly turns on his heels; eyes brimming with a desperation and sorrow of a sinner as he pleaded rather loudly:

"Punch me."

Behind Fenrir, two voices say: "What?"

And standing in front of him, the bulky Seven of Spades, with his understanding heart as big as his brawn; offers Fenrir a toothy grin and not a single question as he replied: "Okay!"

.

.

.

The Jack of Spades and Alice the Second could only stare in horror as the Seven of Spades demonstrated an uppercut right before their very eyes.

2: it's february and i should be writing lighter things, aka a crack prompt revolving around the wonder that are the many odd substances being smuggled in cradle asides from aphrodisiacs 乁( ◔ ౪◔)ㄏ happy valentine's day! (‘∀’●)♡

[axther]

(1/2) Ghost Anon: May I get a bnha matchup? I’m Vicente, a 4’11” pan trans-guy, who’s 18 years old and in college for art! I adore cats, halloween, video games, & death metal! My MBTI is INFP-T! I have trouble befriending others irl because I’m MAD standoffish & have an abrasive personality but for those I‘m close to I do whatever I can to cheer em up when they’re down! I have history with martial arts (abt 5/6 years) I LOVE sparring and get a thrill from fakin people out and landin a solid hit!

fuckkkk I’m sorry this is late… I am one (1) dumbass. Also under the cut for length bc I kept on deleting it and starting over and before I knew it the first matchup was four pages long (in the end it was 9 pages long)

#1 is…Tamaki! 

Okay so!!! 

We all know that Tamaki freaks out easily 

And let’s say there’s a meetup for young, promising students

Mirio and Neijre are thriving 

But Tamaki is stuck in a corner trying to not get noticed

 He’s panicking 

And then he sees you from across the room 

You look pissed as all hell 

Crossing your arms and watching three other students brag about their exploits 

He notices that you look like your gradually getting more and more annoyed 

Eventually, you huff and walk away, and Tamaki realises that you’ve got something perched on your shoulder

 He takes a bit of a look and sees that it’s a skeletal cat, walking back and forth and clearly agitated. 

You sit on a chair at one of the semi-fancy, plastic tablecloth tables, about two feet away from Tamaki 

He’s clearly ‘??’ and nervous as hell that he pissed you off

until you start talking 

‘What’re you doin’?’ 

Tamaki’s confused as all get out 

And it’s clear that he’s promptly terrified 

Until you glance at him out of the corner of your eyes 

And the cat is staring at him with hollow eye sockets, tilting its head 

And you say ‘You look lonely.’ 

Tamaki flushes bright red 

You noticed him??? 

Did he do something obvious? 

Was he pissing you off?

Did lonely people piss you off?

Did he make you feel bad???

You shrug at his silence, and though he can’t see it, you’re kinda hurt 

It’s not like you want to actually scare anybody (besides villains). 

So imagine your surprise when he manages to pipe up 

‘Wh-wh-what’s your…quirk…?’ 

It’s less than a whisper, but you catch it, and you look over with a raised eyebrow 

‘Death.’ You look away. ‘Psychopomp. Angel of Death. Grim Reaper. Whatever you wan’ to call it.’ 

Tamaki baulks 

He didn’t even know that quirks that severe existed

You’re kinda staring in the opposite direction and he can tell that his silence is definitely not helping 

But he’s almost in awe 

He’s heard of people with quirks like Wendigo, Reanimation, and Bodily Manipulation that had to be shelved away lest something happen and they use their quirks for evil

So he’s a bit confused as to why you’re allowed out and about 

But he’s most curious 

In fact, he’s very very curious

So he blinks up at you and takes a big gulp and closes his eyes tight 

‘Th…that’s cool…’ 

He did it!! 

Internally he’s celebrating like crazy because he managed to get it going!! 

He’s got this!! 

But then you just frown and look a bit angrier 

So then it all comes to a stop in Tamaki’s head 

And he eyes the cat, who’s nuzzling your neck 

And Tamaki decides to shoot his shot 

‘Who’s…the cat?’ 

You look back at him, clearly surprised 

You figured that your quirk scared him, with how he looked ready to die himself when he said it was cool, so you’re a bit confused. 

‘Custos. M’ familiar.’ 

Tamaki is definitely more curious now 

He wasn’t sure what to ask next 

But then Custos jumped from your shoulder 

You two are staring at Custos, kneading Tamaki’s lap

The shoujo gods are watching over you, really

 But then you look away again with a blush and a mumble of ‘I guess she likes you.’ 

Tamaki’s playing with her funny paws 

And there’s a second where he messes with it wrong, and the paw turns sideways, and then claws just appear out of nowhere until he fixes it again 

He’s talking to Custos and having a grand old time 

When you get out of the chair and plop down next to Tamaki 

And Tamaki’s starting to freak out again 

Did it seem like he was ignoring you? 

Was he being rude? 

He didn’t know what you were doing when you plucked Custos out of Tamaki’s hands until you murmured ’watch this!’ 

Then you  s t r e t c h  Custos 

She’s mewing happily, clearly enjoying it 

But Tamaki can see Custos’ spine literally separating, like a weird accordion 

You stop, and laugh when Custos bounces left and right, trying to get you to do it again 

And you nudge Tamaki, and he’s in awe

’It’s like givin’ her a kitty deep massage.’ 

Tamaki nods mutely, a little blush on his face 

Through this, you two develop a full-blown conversation 

And it’s going great! 

Tamaki’s genuinely surprised 

But then he hears muffled squealing 

And at first, he’s ’???’ 

But then he looks over to his right to see Neijre smothering her own cheer

And Mirio’s got a big ol’ grin and he’s giving a thumbs up 

Tamaki’s ready to EXPLODE 

But then you call his name 

And he jumps again but looks at you this time 

And you follow his original line of sight 

And almost immediately, you reserve yourself again 

Tamaki realises that the pissed-off demeanour was a reflex

You look at him, clearly taken off guard, and go ’Huh?’ 

Tamaki realises that he said it out loud, and smacks a hand to his mouth 

You both look shocked 

Tamaki’s sure that he’s messed up the entire thing and that you’re never going to want to talk to him again 

But then you give a bit of a sad smile before nodding 

’Yeah, I guess.’ 

Tamaki’s heart breaks at the tone of your voice 

He feels a weight in his stomach 

Custos begins rubbing herself across your face and purring, trying to comfort you 

And before Tamaki’s anxiety can catch up, he’s got his phone out and has yours so you two can exchange numbers 

He doesn’t have time to think over it or regret it before Fat Gum shows up for him so he and a couple of other students can train together 

And a different hero, with spikes and hair that hung in their face, shows up for you with several other goth-themed students in tow 

It’s later that night that he thinks back to it all, and he’s covering his face, bright red, and rolling left and right. 

Then, like a death bell, his phone goes off 

He stops rolling and just stares at the contact ’Vincente + Custos’ 

And he’s shaking and hyping himself up and nearly drops his phone three times and he’s near tears 

But he answers with a shaky ’H-Hello?’ 

And he hears Custos mewing a bit 

And then you 

’Hey. Tamaki, right? From the Elites Meetup?’ 

Tamaki takes a deep as fuck breath before speaking again 

’Yes?’ 

Yeah, it sounds like a question, but he’s nervous!! 

And he hears a sigh of relief 

’Cool! This is, uh, V. Vincente.’ 

There’s another moment of silence until you speak up again 

’But I can be whoever you want?’ 

This, too, is a question, but Tamaki doesn’t worry about that 

He hears someone’s vaguely cheering you on (it sounded like a sixteen-year-old, maybe?) 

But his face erupts in red 

’I-Well, that’s…I…’ 

Tamaki can’t really respond 

He’s too busy thinking ’?????!??!??! He’s into me?!??!??!’ 

You kinda sigh, and then say ’Sorry, that was kinda…’ 

And Tamaki starts stammering more over the phone 

It was a bit hard to decipher, but it was something along the line of ’it’s okay’ and ’are you free’ 

(yes, you made sure you were definitely free.) 

#2 is…Bakugou! 

We know this mf does not do anything half-assed 

So when you two are paired together for sparring 

He’s expecting you to have a quirk like Tokoyami’s, where light and darkness are important factors

So he goes blazing in, expecting the light from his explosions to be too much

But you’re just standing there, the fuckin’ cat on your shoulder and looking unbothered! 

It’s pissing him off! 

But then he feels something grab onto his foot 

And he looks down

And he doesn’t know how to describe it 

But it looks like a mix of a big, ripped out fetus and a malnourished child with huge, empty eyesockets and wrinkly, paper white skin and arms that didn’t fit its body 

(look up the messengers from Bloodborne, it’ll make more sense) 

And it’s quietly groaning while holding onto his ankle

And Bakugou tries ripping it off of him

But then another appears

And more and more until there’s a whole crowd around him 

’What the fuck is this?’ He can’t get them off, because, with every one that he shoots off, three takes its place 

And then, at once, they all start dragging him down 

’Hey! You goth fuck! What the fuck are you doing?!’ 

Yet the entire time, you’re unbothered 

And he’s trying to wade out of the tide that pulls him in

And it’s consuming him whole

The ground isn’t the limit anymore, he realises, and he starts panicking 

He’s blasting left and right 

But then he lets out one final yell, and he’s gone 

No one knows where

People have stopped to look, and your teacher gives you a stern look.

‘Bring him back, V.’ 

You only glance his way for a moment before, a couple of yards behind you, Bakugou is spat out 

He’s panting and sweating and looks like he saw hell itself 

You turn your head slightly to look at him, not even bother to uncross your arms. 

And when he looks at you he can only keep eye contact for a moment before lowering his head 

Very very quickly word goes around school

That the dark horse V took down the rowdy rude Bakugou that won the Sports Festival

Bakugou has rarely felt so humiliated 

So he approaches you later that day demanding a rematch

He���s gotten a better grasp of what your quirk is, so he’s certain he can take you on 

But all you do is shrug. 

This! Pisses! Bakugou! Off!!

‘Then no quirks, fucker. You and me and nothing else.’ 

Again, you shrug, and the cat on your shoulder hops of and perches on a nearby open window

Again, Bakugou is sure that he can take you on

You don’t look buff, nor scrawny. You look…moderate? 

Certainly like you wouldn’t blow away in the wind, but that you were more of a cuddler than a fighter 

So when he goes full offensive, he sees you start to lift your right leg and he’s all over it 

He’s thinking ‘dumbass!’ and goes to grab your leg when you switch in mid-air and clock him over the neck with your knee 

You let him get back up

But the rest of the fight he’s getting no mercy 

And he’s completely taken off guard

By the end of it 

He’s beaten and bruised 

Though you’re only a bit better off yourself

He’s pretty sure that some students watched in the middle of it but left near the end 

But either way, he’s been lowkey humbled

He’d never admit it, of course

But he now knows that he can’t underestimate you anymore 

When he takes a second too long to get up, you offer a hand 

And he nearly knocks it away when he looks up at you

And into your eyes

And he realises that it’s you putting yourself out there

You never really talked to anybody, at all

So he takes it 

‘It’s not me being nice’, he tells himself. 

It’s him just taking what is offered 

And he stands up and he’s taller than you 

And when he looks down he notices that hey

You’re kinda cute

So when the silence consumes you both he takes a hand to the back of his head and shoves a hand into his pockets 

‘I, uh…you’re better than I fuckin’ thought. You wanna…eat out sometime?’ 

Your face softens, ever so slightly, and if he squints hard enough he sees you smiling 

(though he would never admit it, he was whipped from there on out.)

#3 is…Midoriya!

When you first meet him he’s absolutely enamoured with your quirk 

It started with Custos 

And then when you started explaining the basics of your quirk 

He’s completely fanboying 

‘Oh my gosh, I didn’t know that quirks could have capabilities like that! To think that you can call on the armies of the dead…that’s incredible! Could I ask more?’ 

He’s a bit like Tamaki, but on a chiller level 

He ends up filling roughly half a notebook on you over the course of the train ride that you two met on 

And he realises that he probably hasn’t even scratched the surface of it 

So he demands (politely) that you guys exchange numbers 

You mention offhand that you don’t have too many friends because of how stand-off-ish you act 

And midoriya rises to the occasion! 

‘I’ll be your friend! Don’t worry! Actually, I have a voucher for some good katsudon at a stand down the road from my house, and it’s the next stop, would you want to come? Not that you have to! It’s just that I really wanna solidify our new friendship, and-’

‘Sure. I’ve got nothin’ better to do.’ 

Midoriya is ready to fly out of his seat with how happy he is!! 

He’s still not terribly used to having a ton of friends, so the fact that he’s expanding his circle, even more, makes him super happy!

You two go to the katsudon stand and Midoriya’s semi-swarmed by a group of old ladies that his mom takes yoga classes with 

And they’re pinching your cheeks with a feel of ‘Oh!! Izuku-Kun is this your friend! Is he your boyfriend? Oh, you two look very cute together! Don’t forget to eat well, Izuku’s friend! Please keep him safe and well!’ 

And to be honest, Midoriya’s not expecting you to take it all too well

He’s ready to shoo them away 

When you just give a really soft, sparkly, anime shoujo smile and take their hand 

‘I will, ma’am. You ca’ count on me.’ 

And Midoriya kinda stares in awe for a moment before one of the shrewder ladies nudges him in the side with a 😏

He’s like ‘!!! I-I-I-I-I-I just met him today! It’s not like that!’ 

And he’s flailing his arms and bright red and the lady is like ‘Uh-huh, sure, that’s what I said about my fourth husband’ 

Either way, the old ladies leave with a call for Midoriya to ask his mother to bring her soba recipe to yoga next Thursday

And he accepts while trying to drag you away from them because the last thing he needs is for the entire neighbourhood to try and be his wingman

So he’s talking with you about your quirk while eating and you two eventually branch of about anything and everything 

And by the time it’s dark Midoriya feels like he’s known you his entire life 

You decide to head out before it gets any darker and he waves as you leave 

He’s got a blush on his face and a lopsided grin 

Because you know what!!

You’re fuckin cute!! And smart, and funny, but you knew when to hold your tongue, and you’ve got a really cool cat, and he thinks that you’re really sweet, and…

And almost immediately, once you’re out of earshot, the chef leans over 

“Your boyfriend, huh?’ 

‘Aughhhh!’ 

@v0mpy

[smokingtomas]

Read Between The Lines

A/N: A Secret Santa gift (well, it’s not a secret anymore lmao) for @that-girl-at-the-corner​ whose works I adore so much. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to you, my friend! I was so stoked that I get to create for you and I hope you like this fic^^

Thank you @shokugeki-secretsanta​ for hosting this event! I always love being a part of an event for this fandom, and I hope you enjoyed hosting this event.

Merry Christmas and Happy New Year to all of you! I truly hope you guys enjoy this canon universe piece as well.

-MA

To Nakiri Erina, having Yukihira Soma walked into her office right after an important board video conference was nothing new-- well, without Hisako guiding the door, he would have just barged in like an intruder he is.

“Yo! Whatcha up to, Nakiri?”

“Not expecting you since you didn’t fill in my appointment sheet, obviously.” Erina shut off her laptop. “Do you need anything, Yukihira-kun?”

“What’re ya on about? Everyone’s waiting.”

“Waiting for what?”

Soma lifted an eyebrow in disbelief, “Uh… Elite Ten lunch meeting?”

Crap. Should’ve checked her schedule at the start of the day.  “Oh, r-right. Give me a moment to get my things.”

Amid the franticness of her trying to find the Elite Ten papers below a pile of documents, he shot her a question she’d never thought his stupidly dense self would ask.

“Hey uh, are those red roses over there from that Professor Suzuki?”

When he pointed to a large glass vase on her desk, Erina nods, “It is.”

“What about that one on the corner?” The redhead referred to a bigger transparent one next to the door.

“He gave it to me as well.”

“Also those lilies by the window?”

“Yes.”

“So… basically, the flowers in this room are all from that guy?”

Erina paused for a second. “I’ve never really thought about that, but it appears like so.”

“Wow.” He seemed taken aback by said fact. “So uh… you like him or somethin’? Yknow, because of this?”

“G-Geez, what is this, Yukihira-kun? 20 questions?” She reflectively avoided eye contact at the question. “I just think he’s nice. Nothing more beneath that.”

“Just nice, eh?” He chuckled, almost scoffing, “Well if it was me giving ya all these flowers, you’d pretty much be thinking a lot more of me, don’t ya?”

“Hmpf, wouldn’t you like to know.” Erina slapped his delusional self with her file as she passed him by, “Let’s just go. You are wasting my time already.”

She wasn't sure what he was saying after that, but it was only given since they were rushing to the lunch meeting two buildings away, which drained her even more than the board meeting-- it turned out that there were so much more to evaluate and prepare before the next Moon Festival.

Should’ve listened to herself back then before she decided to take the director position: Don’t do it. It’s not going to be an easy ride.

It might be caused by the display of her restless face, but when Soma asked her if she’d want him to walk her back to the office, she didn’t say no.

He matched her steady pace as they were walking through one of the greenhouses at Totsuki where middle schoolers grew a wide range of plants and flowers for home economics. Quite empty in an afternoon like this that they were all back in their classes.

She thought she heard Soma talking about a new cooking method he’d learned from some idiot on the internet along the way, but when her mind was left in the meeting room, it just seemed like another voice in her head.

“Uh… Nakiri?” She felt a hand on her shoulder, and it snapped her out of her endless thoughts.

“What?”

He chuckled at her absent-minded reply, “You alright over there?”

“O-Of course I am! The director of this academy has to be prepared at all times. What makes you think I am anything but alright?”

“Sure, sure.” He said.

They took a few more steps just glancing around the flower sections of the greenhouse in silence.

“Y’know,” Soma spoke again, “If I were your boyfriend, I could offer you a hug when you’re all stressed out like this.”

At this point, she rolled her eyes, “Would you stop? I thought we’ve dropped this conversation already.”

“I know. Just wanna point out that you’re the worst liar I’ve ever known. And you can’t clap back because this first seat ain’t the worst cook you’ve ever known.”

Okay, he might be kind of right about that. So of course in response to that, all she could do was to avoid his golden eyes.

“Aight, I can do somethin’ to cheer you up.” Soma offered.

“And that is by?”

“Music: A world so far away from cooking, yet closer than you think.”

As Soma plugged his earphones in, she complained, “Music never cheers me up, Yukihira-kun.”

“It’s ‘cause you don’t sing along. Trust me.”

When he stopped his track in front of her and placed a bud on her left ear, a song she couldn’t identify already played.

“Look, I don’t even know who sings this.” Erina raised a hand in confusion.

“It’s Do I Wanna Know by Arctic Monkeys.” He told her.

“Huh?”

“Just sing it! Do I wanna know~ if this feeling flows both ways~”

Seriously, this guy had never ceased to baffle her. “Yukihira, I just found out about this song. How would I know the lyrics?”

“You’re thinkin’ way too much. Just bob your head along with the beat, would ya?”

So with Soma walking backward to face her, she started mirroring his subtle head bobs-- not that she was less puzzled, by the way. Especially with the hilariously thick Japanese accent covering his pitchy voice.

But… it was strange how the movement of her head that matched the beat of the song got her to feel a newfound satisfaction feeling within her. It was as if she controlled how the music flow. It was addicting. And she didn’t want to stop.

“That’s right. Enjoy the beat.” He said and started air-drumming. “It gets better if you close your eyes.”

So she did for a few seconds, just to let her body levitate with the music. Occasionally feeling Soma’s index finger drumstick on her shoulder that triggered it to subtly dance along. Her head bob was getting more pronounced, and she hated to admit it, but she enjoyed this way more than she should.

The great Nakiri Erina, before this greenhouse fiesta, was someone who thought music was just a classical backsound in gala dinners or other glamorous events she had attended. She liked them, but it was never the main attraction in her life for entertainment purpose.

And now that her eyes were opened, in front of her was a boy. Who was smiling cheekily, but it was almost like he didn’t realize he’d managed to break open another wall to a bigger world for her to see and embrace.

Really-- where had he been all her life?

“Bet you wanna sing now, eh?”

The chorus that came after Soma’s assumption was enough to make her timidly sing the catchier lyric along with him. Of course, he’d sung as if he’d never sing again, and of course, she had to reflectively laugh at that.

And he stopped right when Erina was trying to contain her giggle.

And what stunned her was the look he gave her.

“W-What?” She asked plainly.

“Nah, it’s just--” He paused, “I don’t think I’d ever get used to seeing you all… laughing and smiling like this.”

Oh no, her cheek better not get any color. “Wh-What do you mean?”

“I mean y’know, you’re always so serious, grumpy, and all business every time.” Now, Soma was scratching his head. “But I feel like when you’re smiling, it’s almost like I…”

If it was up to her uptight self, she would really like to make a comment on the grumpy thing (she was most definitely not a dwarf, thank you very much), though it was impossible when he stopped his track and offered her his perplexed features.

If only she had known what he was thinking, it’d have been easier. If only this song on his earphone would have stopped playing, maybe she would have been able to figure why he fidgeted the inside of his lip while occasionally throwing his glance to his tiptoe.

Or the very least, she could’ve figured out why her heart was racing like a freight train in this very moment, but she was sure that her dilating pupils had something to do with him. Enclosing their distance.

But then he froze and said, “Y’know what? Doesn’t matter.”

She didn’t expect to have that sinking, unsatisfied feeling when he turned away, but Erina couldn’t really afford to have the thoughts linger on too long, so she tried to shrug the feeling off when they were walking side by side silently to the front of her office.

“Thank you for walking me back, Yukihira-kun,” Erina said. “I will see you on tomorrow’s meeting.”

“Wait, Nakiri.” He stopped her from opening her door. “Here.”

She couldn’t believe her eyes; Yukihira Soma was handing her a flower-- a white carnation.

“Eh?”

“Just accept it.”

If it was up to her haughty, hair-flipping, Totsuki director self, she would’ve told him that he wasn't supposed to pick anything from that greenhouse. Unfortunately, it was the reddened cheek, shoujo-geek version of herself that showed.

“B-But why?”

“No need to have reasons, eh?” Soma explained. “Just thought it kinda looks like you when you’re smiling.”

And she thought she was stunned before. This was another level-- warmed her heart, weakened her legs kind of stunned.

“Well, see ya tomorrow, then.”

It only clicked when Soma was leaving. She looked at the white bloomed flower smelled so heavenly and realized why she looked at him differently. Why it never felt like that with any other guys who’d been trying to woo her.

And why every time she thought of the future, she thought of him.

“Y- Yukihira-kun!”

His eyes immediately turned to her.

“T-Thank you.”

And with that smile fetched to her by the redhead, she knew those ten roses on her desk could easily be replaced with one single carnation.

[grandmasterofwangxiancultivation]

SV ch.59

i am finally finding a bit of time to sit in front of my pc and read this freaking chpater, you’ve been teasing me, but i’m ready now sovjoirjgw

After a pause, he continued, “Those two people from just then aren’t easy to deal with. Even if Shizun doesn’t want to stay at my place, I still hope that you will not go with them.”

i love when lbh tries to act cool but the only thing his mind thinks about is protect shizun protect shizunifjirjfisdofw

EDIT: sooooooooo... lbh doesn’t know that’s his father? wow okay

EDIT 2: okay okay wait my heart toppled over in, like, five lines!!!! shizun is feeling feelings for lbh that make him wanna help, so he tries, but light goes out and lbh just crashed over him IS THIS A SHOUJO MANGA? lbh you are too much for my little maiden heart to handle

EDIT 3: i’ve been thinking about it and i was rightx that rain was toxic!!! and lbh PROTECTED HIS SHIZUN WITH HIS BODY!!!!! THIS IS MORE THAN LOVE, THIS IS PURE DEVOTION, OMGGGGGGG, NOW SHIZUN’S HEART RESEMBLES THAT OF A MAIDEN, BAAAAAAABE

EDIT 4: 

Shen Qingqiu reached out a hand and touched him. His forehead and cheeks were both scalding hot like he had a fever. But there was no way that the concept of a ‘fever’ would exist in Luo Binghe’s body.

SHIZUN IS TOUCHING IS FACE. AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH

also, A FEVER??? WHAT HAPPENED TO MY BABY?

EDIT 5: shizun is touching lbh all over soijvsopkefpowfk

Shen Qingqiu placed a hand behind Luo Binghe’s head and massaged the area that had just knocked against the wall.

“Binghe, can you hear me?”

THIS IS SO SOFT OMG i need them cuddling together snfowjef

EDIT 6: shizun thinking about how many hardships lbh suffered to get there and my heart just warms in front of it ‘cause really, i love lbh so much i can’t even begin to cry, i just hug myself and pray for a lbh in my life-

EDIT 7: SHIZUN FIGHTS AND PROTECT LBH AT THE SAME TIME

*breathes in, breathes out*

i feel like... like he sees him a bit like his disciple again, it makes me feel so freaking emotional omg.

EDIT 8: 

He originally wanted to stuff Luo Binghe inside a different coffin, but he didn’t have time for that anymore. Hugging Luo Binghe tightly, Shen Qingqiu flipped the two of them over and they tumbled simultaneously into a stone coffin.

(I AM SORRY WHAT

THEY ARE LAYING IN A COFFIN TOGETHER?!?!? SQQ IS H U G G I N G LBH GUYS OKAY I NOW IT’S FOR PRACTICAL PURPOSE BUT THEY ARE HUGGINGGGGGGGGG

IS THIS MXTX’S IDEA OF A ROMATIC TIME??? WHAT’S NEXT, A DATE IN A GRAVEYARD?!?!?!? BLESS THIS I AM IN LOVE)

Luo Binghe was on top, Shen Qingqiu on the bottom.

(ptf. as if we needed you to confirm that, shizun-)

EDIT 9:

Shen Qingqiu remained calm, lying on his back. Luo Binghe pressed down on top of him, face-down, his head buried in the hollow of Shen Qingqiu’s shoulder. The heat spread onto Shen Qingqiu’s neck, so hot that it was uncomfortable. Even he felt uncomfortable, so Luo Binghe must naturally be even more uncomfortable.

i mean, i know. okay? i know. they are running away from strange candle-like things and hiding in a coffin and there is no need to get all excited because LBH IS LAYING ON TOP OF SHIZUN OMFG OMG OMG yup, no need whatsoever to become so giddy and happy and laugh like an idiot 

LBH’S HEAD IN THE HOLLOW OF SQQ’S SHOULDER, my head tells me that’s cuddling enough-

EDIT 10: lbh’s mark on his forehead is flashing, i dunno, this make me laugh so much-

EDIT 11: 

He couldn’t free his hand to cover that disastrous mark. He subconsciously turned his head abruptly and pressed his lips against Luo Binghe’s bright and clean forehead.

It actually looked sort of like he was kissing Luo Binghe’s forehead.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAH OMG OMG OMG OMG OKAY SQQ’S LIPS TOUCHED LBH, THIS IS NOT A DRILL, IT’S HAPPENING, WHO CARE HOW AND WHY, THAT’S A KISS.... SORT OF... BUT... SDKFJWPOFOPWE 

WHAT IS THIS CHAPTER DOING, SQQ FUMBLING AROUND WITH LBH’S BODY LIKE THIS WITH THE EXCUSE OF HAVING TO RUN AWAY I AM DOOMED

EDIT 12:

As its hand moved lower and lower, Shen Qingqiu grew tenser and tenser. It was about to touch Luo Binghe’s back when Shen Qingqiu gritted his teeth and extracted his right hand, which had almost gone numb, and pressed down on an area of Luo Binghe’s back that was still fairly intact.

With this push, Luo Binghe’s upper half pressed completely against him. Originally, there was still a small space between them, but now the two of them were basically one person, chest against chest, stomach against stomach.

(OKAY. I AM GONNA FAINT. THERE IS NO AIR OR SPACE BETWEEN THEIR BODIES.

OMG

*breathes irregularly* no, i really wanna see what sqq will tell himself about this. i am very curious.)

The stomach should naturally be the human body’s softest area, but Luo Binghe’s abdomen jabbed terribly hard into Shen Qingqiu’s. The more he pressed down, the more he was convinced that Luo Binghe definitely had an eight pack. It was hard enough to kill someone.

(I AM LAUGHING SO HARD I CAN’T EVEN BREATH, ABS THAT KILL PEOPLE???? ARE YOU GETTING EXCITED ABOUT THOSE ABS, SHIZUN? WHAT A STRANGE THING TO NOTICE AT SUCH A TIME, DON’T YOU THINK.)

EDIT 13:

When Shen Qingqiu saw that it was about to touch Luo Binghe’s calf, he hardened his heart and parted his legs, allowing Luo Binghe’s left leg to land between his.

*SCREAMS SILENTLY*

IS MXTX LISTENING TO MY PRAYERS, MY IMAGINATION OR ANYTHING? IS THIS A GIFT?

LET LBH WAKE UP.

LET HIM WAKE UP RIGHT NOW I AM BEGGING EVERY GOD IN THE UNIVERSE FOR THIS

EDIT 14:

Their position right now was truly too unseemly. If someone poked their head over and saw them, they would think that Shen Qingqiu was someone burning with desire for sure, holding onto Luo Binghe firmly without any intention of letting go like he was doing all he could to squeeze him into his embrace.

how is it that you don’t sound so troubled by it, shizun-

EDIT 15: there it is, another demon character ready to have tea with the main one. this uncomfy/calm atmosphere in the worst situations is one of the things i love the most about mxtx’s novels

EDIT 16: who did you say is on the brink of death from serios illness. who. I DARE YOU TO REPEAT IT, BUT BEFORE THAT JUST WAKE LBH UP AND SHOW US EVERYTHING IS FINE OMG

EDIT 17:

The Dream Demon rambled, “Serves this brat right. In the past five years, he wastes his energy summoning the soul all day long and recklessly slaughters his own creations in his dreamscape at night. I’ve long since instructed him that doing so would be the same thing as destroying his own primordial spirit. Sooner or later, this day would come. In order to preserve your flesh Seed body during these past few days, he wasted his spiritual energy, and that demon sword was just waiting for an opportunity to revolt. What’s more, he forcefully broke into the Holy Mausoleum, and faced off directly against the most gifted descendant that the demon race has seen for generations.”

Shen Qingqiu gripped Xiu Ya sword so tightly that it hurt. He looked back at Luo Binghe, who was lying unconscious in the coffin, and said, “… Elder has no way of awakening him either?”

I AM CRYING LBH WENT THROUGH SO MUCH FOR HIS SHIZUN AND I AM SO HAPPY THAT SHIZUN IS HEARING ABOUT THIS RN I HOPE THIS IS GONNA BE GOOD FOR THEIR RELATIONSHIP AND IMPROVE THE WAY SHIZUN SEES LBH 

MY BABE, LOOK WHAT HE DID JUST TO BE WITH HIS SHIZUN AGAIN OSJFOPWKFW

EDIT 18:

Shen Qingqiu opened his eyes and sighed. “But right now, besides me, his Shizun, who else can protect━or should I say, will protect Luo Binghe?”

(BESIDE ME, HIS SHIZUN, HUYS I SWEAR MY HEART JUST BURST OUT OF MY CHEST AND WENT TO THE HIGHTEST SKYSCRAPER IN THE WORLD TO JUMP DOWN BECAUSE THAT’LL ACTUALLY HURT LESS THAN THIS -and it hurts so good omg-)

Chaotic emotions came thick and fast. Shen Qingqiu’s thoughts were in turmoil, but he was very clear about one thing: no matter what, he couldn’t leave Luo Binghe to die here.

The Dream Demon said coldly, “After so many years, you’re finally willing to acknowledge once more that this brat is your disciple and that you are his Shizun?”

Shen Qingqiu: “It has indeed been a very long time.”

(IT FEELS LIKE I HAVE BEEN WAITING SO LONG FOR THIS I CANNOT EVEN EXPLAIN I AM SOBBING SO HARD)

He was still waiting for the Dream Demon to continue ridiculing him mysteriously, but that old man suddenly gave a sigh. He said, “If this brat could wake up and hear what you just said, I wonder how happy he would be.”

(EVEN HIS MASTER-DEMON KNOWS!!! this is truly perfect)

EDIT 19:

Shen Qingqiu’s face was full of black lines. What did he mean, “if he could wake up”? This kind of uncertain-about-life-or-death tone just made him even more uneasy, okay!

look at sqq being scared and fearing for his cutie’s health. 

like- who told you to do this to my heart? who?

EDIT 20:

The Dream Demon’s anger suddenly surged up, and he shouted loudly, “I’m clearly this brat’s Shifu, how many things have I taught him?! Ah?! The ability to know everything under the sky, the method to control people’s hearts! But he refuses to call me Shifu; all he ever says is ‘Elder,’ ‘Elder’! You’re just some average cultivator that taught him a few superficial fighting moves and one or two coarse mental cultivation methods, yet he chases after you crying and calling for Shizun! It’s infuriating!”

YES YES YES GIVE US MORE PROOF OF LBH’S DEVOTION, LET SHIZUN HEAR, THIS IS TOO GOOD, TOO BEAUTIFUL, THIS IS ALL WE NEED AND MORE AOJFSPOAèAPFJK

EDIT 21:

He was about to fight back when the Dream Demon started to walk back and forth across the coffin, hands behind his back, saying with agitation, “If I had secretly eliminated you back then in the dreamscape, this kind of incident wouldn’t have happened today. This brat was originally a talent with great prospects ahead of him, but the moment he met you he became this good-for-nothing that only makes people angry. He stubbornly continues to put on an act in front of you too, pretending not to feel anything! If it were up to me, he should either just kill you or do you. Putting up such a fuss, wavering in between━it really makes someone mad when they see it!!”

I LOVE MASTER-DEMON EVERY SENTENCE MORE. THANK YOU. ‘cause if it weren’t for scenes like this, sqq would just conveniently keep to ignore the truth, which is a big N O P E. 

lbh loves his shizun so much, that he stubbornly continues to put on an act in front of you too, pretending not to feel anything totally killed me and i don’t know if i’ll have the strength to read the rest of this novel without crying and wanting to hug lbh and just push these two together PLS-

EDIT 22:

Thank heavens, that bothersome old Dream Demon spirit finally agreed to let him go. Shen Qingqiu was about to sit up in a single movement when his right leg suddenly seemed to brush against something that poked stiffly into his inner thigh.

(NO. YES YES YES YOU’VE GOTTA BE KIDDING ME OMG-)

Shen Qingqiu thought it was a sword hilt at first and absent-mindedly stretched out a hand to go push it aside. He had just touched it when the System’s announcement suddenly exploded:

【YOOOOOOO~~Cool points +1000┏(┏^q^)┓~ Congratulations for obtaining the achievement “Physical Relationship Development”!!!】

(AHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHH SHIZUN I LOVE YOU SO MUCH, HOW HARD MUST LBH BE FOR YOU TO EXCHANGE THAT FOR THE HILT OF A SWORD I AM DYING HELP I CAN’T FEEL MY LUNGS FUNCTIONING CORRECTLY ANYMORE-)

EDIT 23: HE CALLED IT SKY PILLAR I CAN FEEL DEATH DESCEND UPON ME MY LUNGS STOPPED WORKING

also, he doesn’t know what to do and if he should help or just leave everything as if he didn’t notice it and you’re telling me I NEED TO WAIT NEXT CHAPTER TO FIND OUT!?!?!?!??!?

[dreadhaus-literature]

{Valentine’s Collection} #14

Note: Happy Valentine’s Day! We’ve reached the end of another collection, and I hope it’s been enjoyed! ♥ It was definitely nice to write, to do something to commemorate a holiday that really suits me as a romance author, haha.

This last piece is something special, and a little different from the rest of the collection--it’s a true one-shot, with an involved, AU plot that I’m pretty proud of. It may evolve into a chaptered story at a later date, depending on Monica’s reception of it; it definitely has the potential to be.

As always, thank you for starring in another collection for me, love! 💕 Enjoy. 💋

“If you’re tempted to say no, then think of the tax benefits.”

“Oh, he did not say that,” Dot Dreadful tossed her head back, cackling loudly. “Girl please tell me he did not try to hit you with the tax benefits line!”

Felina Frenzy, known more intimately as Monica, joined in the laughter even as she rushed to affirm, “He did! He fucking did, like what kind of idiot even tries that?!”

“Only a straight white male.” Dot was quick to quip, hazel eyes locking with emerald as she gave Monica a look over her glass. “How many times have I told you to take a dip with some melanin?”

“It’s not my fault the guy was white,” Monica raised her hand, shifting on her high-backed bar stool. She hooked her stiletto around the bottom rung of the chair, crossing one tantalizing leg over the other without a second thought to the gazes that turned just to watch her move.

“How many times?” Dot pressed, tapping one long nail on the reflective bar’s surface.

“A ton, but you’ve also told me to switch to women indefinitely.”

Dot sat her glass on the bar with both eyebrows near her hairline. “Has it steered me wrong?”

“Are you or are you not alone just like I am on Valentine’s Day?” Monica countered. Logic would have pinned Dot to the ground but emotion’s like nailing jello to a fence post--can’t be done, and Dot cupped Monica’s chin, pulling her in for a loud, affectionate smack right on the lips.

“Oh, but I’m not alone, my love, I have the light of my entire life with me.”

Monica fought off the urge to blush at such a public display of affection, whether or not she returned it. “Sweet-talking me doesn’t change the fact that we’re celebrating Valentine’s Day single.”

“That’s why it’s a Gal-entine’s Day,” Dot released Monica’s chin, taking another sip of her Bloody Mary. “Who needs men, or women for that matter? Who needs anyone.”

“Now whose being the sad panda?” Monica teased, turning back to her sea-sapphire blue cocktail. It was some confection made in honor of the holiday and Monica couldn’t remember what the hell it was called, but it was strong and it tasted good, so she was content with the buzz warming her middle.

“On the contrary, my beautiful gal pal, I am embracing my singlehood with a pack of AA’s and a brand new purple best bed buddy.” Dot rocked side to side on her bar stool. “And I bought you a matching blue one.”

“The fact that our friendship has evolved to us sharing vibrators--”

“Ooo, that was not at all my intention but we should totally share!”

“Having a gay best friend is not at all like how they make it look on TV.”

“Oh yeah, if you’re of the same sex we’ll totally hit on you until we wear you down with our wicked gay ways,” Dot wiggled her fingers, pursing her lips in an ‘o’. “That’s actually #7 on our gay agenda.”

“What’s #6?”

“Find an attractive best friend of the same sex, naturally.”

Monica laughed, clinking her glass with Dot’s. “Naturally.”

Around the two best friends, Zealot was abuzz with activity of the rich, affluent, and famous of New Senzannini out to celebrate the most romantic day of the year. The expensive, high-class lounge was currently the hottest spot in the entire city, which was a feat considering the millions of people who called this capital of the world home. Monica and Dot had been living in New Senzannini for a couple years, now, each making their way in similar career paths, side by side. Dot turned to written word, and Monica double-dipped, releasing a series of wildly popular Young Adult novels that transcended simple novels into graphic novels, illustrated by her own hand. Getting your hooks into the upper crust of New Senzannini wasn’t easy to do, but the girls had done it. The problem was, it seemed dating here was the same as it was anywhere else in the world--which explained why Monica and Dot were single and spending Valentine’s Day as a Gal-entine’s Day instead, drinking together and telling horror stories of suitors past. It was easy for Monica to laugh at her most recent ex, who honestly thought proposing to her on the second date (after a very unsuccessful first date, on top of that) with a line about tax benefits was the right way to win her heart. Monica may be a logical girl with a good head on her shoulders but she had a heart that was still soft--even if she hid that from everyone. She’d thought she wanted a man who could meet her logic, but all that seemed to produce were walking, talking business degrees who thought it was romantic to treat marriage like a contract to extract extra tax benefits from the government. Monica may not watch romantic comedies but she did read shoujo manga--she deserved a little romance, at the very least!

“Excuse me?”

Monica turned, locking eyes with a green-eyed stranger dressed to the nines in a well-tailored, three piece suit. He flashed her an attractive smile, his teeth perfectly straight and white, and his $500 haircut was a compliment to the room lights...but Monica just wanted to yawn.

“Yes?” Monica put on a small, tight-lipped smile but the potential suitor didn’t seem to notice.

“I was wondering if I could buy you a drink.” The business executive extended his hand to the beautiful woman he was hoping to win over. “My name’s Reagan.”

Monica shook his hand, but she also shook her head. “I appreciate it, Reagan, but I already have a drink--”

It may not have been apparent to anyone else that Monica cut her sentence short, but she had. All at once, she became acutely aware that she was being watched. Her spine slowly stiffened the more her awareness rose, and she felt goosebumps raise on her flesh without really knowing or understanding why. Reagan was saying something to her but she wasn’t hearing a word he was saying; the lounge itself seemed to drop away, other sounds muting out, from the jazz singer in the far corner to the murmur of a hundred different conversations. As the world quietened as if someone had turned the volume down like a dial in her head, Monica became aware of an exhale, a rush of smoky air over her shoulder and it sounded so close she was surprised she didn’t feel the smoke caress over her skin. She turned, slowly, and was even more surprised that the exhale she’d heard was across the lounge, a ways from her seat at the bar. It came from the VIP section, and she watched the smoke curl like beckoning fingers as it drifted from lips she couldn’t see. Whoever was smoking that wicked, exotic looking pipe was leaned back against the lush couch and even as she squinted, she couldn’t make out anything but a tall, well-built frame. She could see his legs, the long limbs crossed elegantly, one over the other, and the silk she could see looked expensive, even by Zealot standards. The hanging lamp that was illuminating his legs was doing an excellent job hitting the glass table beneath it, and Monica could see a large, long-fingered hand move that smoking pipe from his mouth to rest over the back of the couch; the way he moved reminded her of smoke itself. He was elegant, whoever this was, and before Monica could look away, he opened his eyes and nailed her to her stool.

They were a shimmering, luminescent sapphire blue. They glowed, glittered like precious stones worth more than the entire outfit she’d painstakingly put together for this evening--

❝Don’t sell yourself short, beautiful girl. I think you look ravishing.❞

The voice that shimmered in her head reminded her of sunlight filtering through the ocean; it glimmered, caressed like fingers so she shuddered from the echo in her mind. That voice belonged to someone who wasn’t human, someone who carried himself above everyone else, and Monica had a feeling she recognized it simply by the way her entire body tightened at the intimate way he spoke to her. He all but purred at her, and by contrast, Reagan speaking to her sounded like a donkey braying.

❝Amusing, pretty little girl. Tell him to get lost.❞

That purr took on a decided sharp edge with the second part of his sentence and it did not come out like a request. It came out a command. And Monica wasn’t one for just...doing what she was told. People didn’t boss her around, they didn’t tell her what to do; she was independent and she had a mind of her own...except right now, her mind didn’t feel like her own. There was another presence within it, making himself quite at home amongst her thoughts so that she could feel his masculine smirk at her immediate want to defy him.

❝Your defiance is...adorable. I’m not unreasonable. Allow me to give you some incentive to do as I say.❞

Monica wasn’t prepared for him to lean into the light, but the second he did, she knew right away she’d been right--

Zaos Lakhani was the one staring at her, speaking to her telepathically, in a way no human could ever hope to do.

The Zaos Lakhani, the most famous Sorcerer in New Senzannini.

New Senzannini was known as the capital of the world for many reasons, but one of it’s shining examples of affluence was it being a gathering hub for all beings found in the known world. Humans, mutants, meta-humans, superheroes, supernatural creatures--it was a veritable melting pot here and as a result, was it any wonder certain races of creatures found themselves at the top of the food chain? The Elites, they were called, and while the government made no real acknowledgement of them...everyone knew they existed and they knew who they were. Zaos Lakhani was an Elf, and that put him in the shining light of the Elite as Elves were considered an Elite race. Monica may be biased but she felt Elves deserved to be there; she had something of a fixation on them. Dot called it a fetish, but Monica wasn’t going to do that even if it was 100% true--if only because it made her blush anytime an Elf so much as walked past her. Now one of the world’s most famous Elves was openly staring at her?!

❝Now that we have an...understanding, do as I say. Get rid of your little admirer. I detest competition.❞

Monica’s throat ran dry; the way Zaos spoke the word understanding made her think he was aware of her thoughts about his race and the blush that swept up her neck was the color of roses. She was finally able to look away from him, but not before she caught sight of his smirk revealing one elongated fang splitting his perfect, pouty mouth. Zaos was gorgeous and she was in way, way over her head.

“E-Excuse me, R-Reagan, but I really need you to walk away, now.” Monica was barely aware of what she was saying; she couldn’t focus, what with Zaos’s eyes still so clearly on her.

“I’m sorry?” Reagan was surprised by Monica sudden change in demeanor, but he’d been so busy talking about himself he hadn’t noticed she’d missed every word he said. “Was it something I said?”

“Who the hell could tell,” Dot muttered. “You haven’t shut the hell up since you came over here. She’s not into you. Hit the bricks, Wall Street.”

Monica knew the only reason Dot spoke up was in her defense; she probably took Monica’s stammering to mean she was uncomfortable with Reagan and Dot had a tendency to get overprotective real quick. Case in point, both women were staring at Reagan in silent challenge until he rubbed a hand along the back of his neck and excused himself. Dot rolled her eyes and signaled for another drink.

“And men say we talk to much,” Dot leaned back in her seat, doing a double take when Monica didn’t move to comment. “You okay, love? Did he actually say something that upset you?”

“N-No, no,” Monica shook her head rapidly. She cleared her throat and then leaned in, watching Dot mirror her movement. “...Z-Zaos Lakhani is here.”

Dot’s face showed she recognized the name, but then one would have to be living under a rock to not. Without having to be told, Dot’s gaze shifted to the VIP section and she pursed her lips; she didn’t share Monica’s fetish for Elves and she found Zaos to be a little conceited. That, and his Family was from the same island she was from, and she knew all about the Lakhani reputation. It was not a good one; there were nine men in the Lakhani line and not a single one of them was good news. From the tyrannical Patriarch with more blood on his hands than Vlad the Impaler, to the homicidal youngest set of twins who were rumored to be serial killers, getting mixed up with that family was asking for trouble. Zaos was one of the nine heads of the Tribe and he’d made his name in magic, dark sorcery that meant people often spoke his name in whispers, and he’d risen to the top of the magic game on a pile of cash from shady deals in other’s misfortune...and death.

You just didn’t mess with a Lakhani, and there’s nine big bad reasons why.

“I see him.” Dot turned to take her fresh drink from the bartender. “What’s that got to do with kicking Wall Street to the curb?”

Monica chewed on her lower lip, doing her best to ignore that Zaos was still staring at her. He’d called her a, “Good girl,” for getting rid of Reagan and Monica was grappling with why that made her feel so good. The longer she didn’t answer Dot, sneaking glances at Zaos, the more suspicious Dot became.

“Baby...I know you’ve got your thing for Elves, but maybe you should...find a different one.” Dot cautioned.

❝As if that would stop me.❞

Monica clenched her thighs together at that masculine purr; Zaos speaking to her so intimately was as though he was speaking against the shell of her ear, with her seated upon his lap, and it took Monica a moment to realize he was projecting that into her mind. Without having to look back at him, she could see his handsome smirk, the ambient room lighting flirting with his cheekbones until she would have sworn he couldn’t be real. With the mental picture he was building she could see him clearly; he was dressed like royalty from a far off land, silk draped over a physique carved from porcelain marble. He had no a single scar on his entire body, and his outfit left only some to the imagination; his chest was bare, the silk draping down his chiseled abdomen in a V-shape that revealed deep grooves in his hips, his pants slung invitingly low. The silk over his arms ended at his wrist, drawing attention to long, painted claws still cradling a pipe that smelled of a rain forest. Monica could smell it, smell him; he smelled good enough to make her mouth water, or maybe that was the way he looked? He looked an entire temptation, his long, pale blond hair framing his head like a halo...but it was a halo that would have to be propped up by horns. There was nothing innocent about Zaos Lakhani and as she continued to helplessly notice every single thing about him, she was unaware he was doing the exact same thing to her.

Zaos had been staring at her since the moment she arrived; he had simply hidden that from her. He’d been content to watch her, study her like a predator from the shadows as she drank and shared laughs with her friend. Zaos had not gotten to his lofty position as a godlike Sorcerer by rushing his hand, but then he should have known others would take notice of this Felina Frenzy...Monica as she was known to close friends and family. Zaos immediately counted himself amongst them; he was entitled and he was demanding, and he saw something he wanted. Needed, until the rest of Zealot dropped away and it wasn’t like anyone or anything could hold his attention for long to begin with. Zaos was a Prince, had been born with a silver spoon in his mouth and now that he was an adult, a formidable Sorcerer with access to realms others couldn’t even dream of, he could get anything he wanted. He’d seen it all, or so he’d thought, until Monica sauntered into the lounge looking like all the world’s treasure encased in red silk and stiletto heels. Zaos had actually commanded the entire VIP section to silence when she’d entered, waving his hand with an absent spell to silence his entourage because he wanted not a single distraction. The way she moved stirred heat in his belly, made his mouth water as she lifted herself onto her bar stool and her thighs parted just so she could cross her legs--as an Elf, his senses were nothing to scoff at and the scent of her was easy to pinpoint amongst the riff raff around them. Like a piece of forbidden fruit dangling out of his reach, he longed to sink his sharp teeth into her flesh.

Would she cry? Scream? Gods, he hoped so.

It had been unexpected, due to his own distraction, that someone else moved on her before he had but that was remedied easily enough. Zaos was not one to lose, ever, and if Monica hadn’t succeeded in getting that cretin to walk away, Zaos would have easily manipulated his mind and caused him to enter the bathroom, open one of the windows, and leap out to his death several stories below. Zaos had no regard for other life and he was certainly not going to apologize for being so...possessive over what he was pursuing. Who wouldn’t be possessive of such a delicious little treasure? Zaos’s clawed fingers actually twitched with the want to feel her soft skin, to trail his hand up her bare legs to delve between her thighs--he imagined her panties were silk like her dress, but she had to be in a tempting little thong. He couldn’t spot any pantylines on that round little bottom and he’d been staring at it, hard, for what seemed like hours. Her waist tucked in, and he knew just by looking at her that it would compliment his large hands; her waist tempted his eyes further up to her full breasts and his mouth watered, again, so eager was he to delve his tongue between them. To taste, sample, savor, and maybe he would pierce her nipples with his fangs, listen to her cry as he fitted her with two crystal barbells so that he could monitor where she was at all times. It wouldn’t do to have her out of his sight, not when she was so breath-takingly gorgeous. The world didn’t deserve her but he did. He deserved to be the one to fasten his lips, his teeth to her throat and mark her, drain her so that her sweet blood flowed like nectar down his throat and he could carry her in his heart, always. He imagined she’d struggle, push weakly at his chest but he would take her resistance and shatter her into a million pieces...only to put her back together again just to show her he was the only one who could.

Well...the only one of nine, perhaps.

Zaos’s free hand extended and with practiced, unconscious ease, his wine glass lifted from the table and floated into his waiting fingers. He took a casual sip, but even the expensive wine tasted sour when what he wanted was Monica. Now that he’d made up his mind, or rather she’d made up his mind for him by being so tempting, he knew he’d never be satisfied without her. He replaced his wine glass upon the table with a wave of his hand, ignoring the stares of awe he received from the others in the section; he knew he was impressive and he didn’t need the masses to tell him so. Instead, he was focused on his phone, retrieving it from it’s resting place in his lap. There was no shyness as he raised it, snapping a picture of Monica seated at the bar.

« Our new Pet. Thoughts? »

The group message between himself and his Tribe was scarcely used and thus, when it was, everyone paid attention to it. His father, Atamu, was the first to respond to the message and the attached picture.

« Do not come home without her. »

Zaos smirked; he was used to the abrupt, demanding way his father spoke and he wondered how Monica’s stubborn, fiery temper would handle standing up to the intimidating Patriarch.

« Gorgeous...What does she smell like? »

The Omega, Tod, was arguably the most...creepy of the Lakhani Tribe, and it was no surprise he asked this question. Zaos typed out a response with ease.

« Like heaven, Tod. »

« Send me her panties. Tonight. »

Zaos’s smirk only mildly concealed his laugh.

« But of course. »

It would be no consequence to port them to Tod and the poor boy deserved it; he needed a good release, and Zaos knew that was exactly what he would be doing--with those panties pressed against his nose, his other fist wrapped around his thick, weeping cock.

The next three to respond to the message were also no surprise; the Alpha Triplets, known to others as the Von Triplets, responded in their birth order. Cavon, then Savon, then Luvon, one right after the other in rapid fire succession.

« I’m gonna fuck her until she bleeds. Bring her home NOW. »

« Exceptional as always, Zaos. She is by far the prettiest Pet anyone has ever had. And I cannot wait to ruin her~ »

« The only good Pet is a well-bred one. I will make sure she is, until she is so round and swollen with child she won’t be able to think of leaving. »

Zaos looked impressed, which was saying something considering the source--for Luvon to be so vocal must mean Monica was truly calling to him, as she was doing to the entirety of his twisted, perverted Family.

« Is she as soft as she looks? As...breakable? »

That one was Markus, and Zaos could almost hear the controlled, measured tone. Out of the entire Family, Monica would likely fall the easiest for Markus because he was a master manipulator. He would seem her knight in shining armor, her safe place amongst monsters, while all the while he took from her greedily because he had both the most and least self-control of any of the Lakhani. He was needy, lonely, and Zaos could hear the desperation in his tone without needing to speak to the man. Monica was a tangible need in his life immediately, simply by a picture alone.

« You’ll have to tell me yourself once she’s home, Markus. »

« Send me a few more pictures, please. »

Zaos would indulge that for Markus, for the rest of the Tribe, and himself once he had Monica here beside him.

« Is she going to be our new Mommy? »

That was Jax, the youngest Lakhani but there was no mistaking he was one of the most dangerous because he had absolutely zero control over himself. He was maniacal, unhinged, a broken boy in desperate need of someone to cling to and while the question of wanting a new Mommy might sound sweet...Zaos knew his little brother better. The boy was going to pervert his relationship with Monica the second he sunk his teeth into her; she would be gaining two sons in the youngest twins, but it would be the most taboo Mother/son relationship in history.

« ...Mother. »

The last response was Jax’s twin Lucca, but like Luvon, the fact that the boy spoke at all was a momentous occasion. The text message read as if he was staring Monica in the eye, his hands reaching for her face before he pulled her in for a kiss that would steal her breath and her rejection all in one. Lucca was the void beside Jax’s tornado of a personality but he was just as insane as his twin. The two boys were young, freshly into their twenties, but they would behave like sick, depraved little boys for Monica. Their new Mommy.

« Lovely you all approve. I’ll bring her home to the Island in the morning, once I’ve got her life all packed up here. »

Zaos knew what he was bringing Monica home to, and he knew she had no idea what was coming her way--but he didn’t feel remorse for that. Why should he? The life of a Pet was a privileged one.

The secret life of Elite Society came with plenty of perks, but the most depraved was the buying and selling, the acquiring of Pets. It was an entire sub-culture of the Elite, and it was exactly what it sounded like. Anyone who was not an Elite could be considered a Pet, and it doesn’t matter the species. In other lifetimes, perhaps in other realities, one might compare it to the rich and famous wanting to own a tiger, to show off their wealth with such an exotic pet. Here in New Senzannini, the Elite have taken it a step further and begun owning people as Pets.

While it could be seen as a status symbol, owning a Pet, it also ran much deeper than that. For supernaturals, the acquisition of a Pet could mean a lifemate, a bond so deep it transcends lifetimes. Some Elites, supernatural or otherwise, take numerous Pets, either by trafficking or through more “legal” channels of purchasing them legitimately from Pet websites. To any who were not Elite, the life of a Pet may seem glamorous. Yes, one essentially gives up their freedom and becomes property of another, but becoming the Pet of a caring Elite means never having to work again. It means living in the lap of luxury, doted upon and spoiled much like one would expect from a Sugar Daddy/Mommy. Pet websites don’t list kidnapped victims but show willingly applicants wanting to become Pets, which says something for the lifestyle. Some aspects of it are legal, others...not so much. Usually there are contracts involved if an Elite wants a legal Pet, but kidnapped Pets are not uncommon. Zaos was hoping to meet Monica...somewhere in the middle. He was a persuasive man; he had every confidence he could get her to sign her life away to him, to put on a Pet ring and give herself over to the Tribe.

Unfortunately for her, he would not be taking no for an answer.

None of the Lakhani’s had ever taken Pets before. There was simply no interest, no desire, no one good enough to incite that primal need to possess, to claim, but Monica had changed all that and she had no idea. It amused Zaos, to know that her life was about to become their life, and the burning desire to keep her was a tangible thing, sitting heavily upon his chest. This was what they had all been waiting for. She was who they had all been waiting for. It was time to make his move.

“--and they’re just...they’re no good,” Dot was in the middle of trying to explain to Monica just what was wrong with the Lakhani but she didn’t feel she was making much headway.

Monica was listening, of course she was, but she couldn’t...help but find that aspect of danger a little...exciting. She licked her lips and sat up a little straighter. “They’re from your island, right?”

“Yeah, but it’s not like they just live there, love, they own that island. Rule it.”

“So most of them are still there?”

Dot nodded. “I think Zaos and Markus are the only ones who aren’t there very often.”

“Markus?” Monica tried to keep the interest out of her voice, but the more she learned about this Tribe...the more she wanted to learn.

“He’s a Skinwalker, not an Elf. Their whole Family are Shapeshifters. Most of them are Werewolves, but the Chieftain is a Werelion.” Dot realized a little late she wasn’t necessarily warning Monica off...more like feeding the flames. “Babe, you are hearing me, right? They’re seriously dangerous.”

“I know! I know, I hear you, I do.” Monica gave Dot a reassuring smile. “I really appreciate you looking out for me but really, it’s not like anything is going to happen! I’m definitely not just going to walk up to Zaos and--”

“Miss?”

Dot and Monica turned, spying one of the Bouncers from the VIP section standing in front of them. His focus was on Monica.

“Y-Yes?”

“Mr. Lakhani would like you to join him in the VIP Section.”

“Oh lord, here we go,” Dot muttered.

Monica couldn’t help it; she turned surprised eyes on Zaos, who only made it worse by lifting his hand, beckoning to her with two clawed fingers in a “Come here,” gesture that should be illegal, it was so sexy.

“I-I...I.” Monica trailed off, unsure what to say. She floundered for a moment, looking over at Dot, who had her eyebrows raised and was shaking her head. “P-Please tell him t-thank you, but i’m here with my friend--”

“Mr. Lakhani offered to pick up her tab if she’d be willing to relinquish you for the evening.”

“He thinks he can buy my date with free Bloody Mary’s?” Dot asked. The Bouncer nodded, once.

“Yes.”

Dot shifted her gaze from the Bouncer, to Zaos, then to Monica...and she had to admit, she could see the desire in Monica’s eyes. The Lakhani weren’t exactly...the sort of people you’d want your best friend hanging out with, but Dot also wasn’t going to ruin Monica’s Valentine’s Day. This was akin to a celebrity asking her over for drinks and Dot knew she wanted to go. Besides, what was the worst thing that could possibly happen? It’s a public place.

“...Aight, fine.” Dot gestured with a wave of her hand.

“A-Are you sure, Dottie?” Monica turned to the Bouncer. “Maybe she could come sit in the section with me?”

“Mr. Lakhani has already cleared the section. It will just be you two.”

That started Monica’s heart like a drum, and she barely had time to reason as to why he’d do that before Dot was giving her cheek a kiss--and speaking lowly against her ear.

“Text me the ❥ emoji if you need me to come get you,” Dot picked an emoji that wouldn’t raise alarms if Zaos happened to notice her sending it. “Be careful, sweetheart. These guys are the big leagues.”

“I-I will,” Monica returned Dot’s affection with a hug, before Dot took her fresh Bloody Mary and slipped off the bar to wander toward the couches by the pianist, still nearby if Monica needed her.

The Bouncer offered Monica his hand to help her down from her chair, but her knees nearly buckled when Zaos’s voice brushed against her mind again.

❝It amazes me how much I detest other people touching you.❞

She didn’t know what to say, and she wasn’t surprised when the Bouncer released her almost immediately after helping her down. She didn’t have to ask to know that was all Zaos’s doing, and it gave her a pause at just how powerful he really must be. Dot had been serious with her warnings and Monica knew enough about Zaos to know he was infamous and to some, feared, but there was a part of her that just couldn’t ignore the attraction, the want to bask in the attention he was giving her. Was this a bad idea? Probably, it was more than likely a terrible idea, but Monica had never said she had a ton of self-control. He was an Elf, and she’d never even had the opportunity to talk to an Elf before, much less sit down and share Valentine’s Day drinks with one.

True to what the Bouncer said, the VIP section was empty when Monica arrived. Zaos stood when she entered, an Old World gesture that was extremely flattering, but also showed Monica this Elf was over seven feet tall. Zaos was stockier than most Elves tended to be; with well-defined muscle mass that was easy to see now that she was so close to him. He offered his hand as she came to stand in front of him and as she placed her hand in his, he bent his spine to kiss the back of her hand.

“At last, Monica, we meet formally. You are even more beautiful up close.”

“T-Thank you, Mr. Lakhani.”

“Zaos, darling, please.” Zaos stressed, and he kept hold of her petite hand, urging her to sit upon the couch. He lowered himself beside her, extremely close, so that their thighs touched and she was nearly beneath the hollow of his broad shoulder. Only one they were seated did he release her hand, moving his arm around the back of her seat, his hand falling to her bare shoulder and she had to fight off a shudder at the touch of his sharp claws against her skin. “I’m delighted you accepted my invitation.”

Zaos had a...peculiar way of speaking; what he was saying sounded polite, charming, but Monica could hear that distinctive purr beneath his baritone, and it was a purr she knew could crack like a whip if he wanted to. He was an Elf, so his voice would be naturally, beautifully smooth, but on top of that he was a Sorcerer and their voice is half their power; Monica realized perhaps a little too late that he could probably get her to do anything with that black magic voice alone. His words seemed to be sentient, trailing over her skin like his fingers upon her shoulder and now that she was so close, his pipe was heady, a rich scent of incense that was a pleasing tickle beneath her nose. When he moved to take an inhale on the hand-carved long pipe, a jingling caught her attention and she was finally able to see his ears. They were long, splitting his tawny blond hair and they were pierced all the way up; the bells he wore jingled merrily when he moved and when he noticed her staring, he wiggled his ears. The bells rang and Monica had to fight off the urge to squeal excitedly.

Zaos Lakhani certainly had a presence to him and she was falling beneath it very quickly.

Zaos was not immune to her presence, however. There was nothing, nothing that could have prepared him for how much sweeter she smelled so close. He swallowed thickly, exhaling a plume of smoke from his nostrils in a desperate attempt to clear his head but every time he inhaled, he took her a little deeper into his body and he could feel her twisting around his lungs like rose vines. He had absolutely made the right decision in picking her out of the crowd and no matter what the outcome of this conversation, she would not be without him, without the Lakhani’s, again in her life. It mattered very little to Zaos how she might feel about the arrangement, about the offer to be a Pet--it didn’t matter what they called it, what label she was given, the bottommost line would be that she would be theirs, she would be his, and that was all that mattered. In the scant time Monica had been in his life, she’d taken it over--so it was only fair that he do the same for her with a Pet ring, right? Of course he was right. Zaos was always right. If Monica wasn’t happy with the arrangement initially...she’d come around. She wouldn’t have a choice, because he was not going to give her up and if she tried to flee, the other Lakhani would come. They’d had a taste and like sharks with blood in the water they would be relentless in their pursuit. Zaos traced intricate, ancient patterns into the bare skin of her shoulder with the tips of his claws as he smirked to himself; his Tribe was not known for many nice things but what he found nice was to have their support. Yes, it meant he would have to fight his possessive nature to share her with the rest of them but she would find it so much harder to escape all nine of them. It put the Sorcerer at ease, and he crossed one long leg over the other, fully aware as his body brushed against Monica’s.

“Tell me, Monica,” he drawled, his unique accent adding to his exotic appearance. “Why are you alone on Valentine’s Day?”

Monica could have no way of knowing she was walking in a minefield; Zaos was asking because he needed to know if there was competition to take out. He could pluck the information from her mind, and he would, just to make sure she wasn’t downplaying some idiot’s interest in her (how could a woman so beautiful not have a hundred suitors?) but if he were honest with himself he was desperate to hear her voice. She had a voice that made one long for the bedroom, for candles and silk sheets and hours to spend with her wrapped around him, milking him while she cried, screamed for him and him alone. Zaos’s touch became a bit more insistent, moving from her shoulder up into her hair, crushing the soft strands between his strong digits.

“W-Well I,” Monica tried to think around Zaos playing with her hair, touching her, but it was near impossible. “I-I just d-don’t have a b-boyfriend this year?”

Zaos’s smirk was downright savage, a thing of masculine beauty and Monica found herself helplessly staring at those rows of sharp teeth, right down to his elongated fangs.

“What a loss for the rest of the world,” he mused, turning those brilliant eyes down to her. “But not for me, hm?”

Monica didn’t know how to answer that, and she had to look away, fidgeting until she crossed her own legs--the pressure on her clit felt nice. She’d just been so...hot, since Zaos started talking to her.

“What if I could make you a promise that you would never have to spend another Valentine’s Day alone, ever again?”

There it was. That black magic that slithered over her skin like a mamba, and Monica’s gaze snapped back up to Zaos without her consciously aware of the movement. He towered over her but still he pressed closer, leaning down into her space so that their noses nearly touched.

“Everyone shames Eve for taking the apple, for biting into the forbidden fruit, but I have always applauded her initiative,” Zaos’s sharp teeth clacked audibly as he took a deep drag off his pipe, his eyes nailing Monica to her seat. When he spoke, the wisps of his rain-scented smoke wafted between them, caressing along her cheek and throwing a haze of magic like an unbreakable spell. “Why shouldn’t she have what she wants? And on that same hand, my dear, sweet girl, why shouldn’t you?”

“H-How...” Monica cleared her throat, desperate to look away from the ocean in his eyes. “How do you know...what I want?”

“Because it is the same thing I want, my darling.” Zaos brought his hand up, his fingers brushing against her temple as he pushed her hair from obscuring her face from him--he would have nothing between them. “Are you going to tell me you don’t want me?”

“I-I--”

“If you force me to play this game of Cat and mouse, I’ll slip my fingers between your thighs and feel that slick heat for myself,” Zaos’s whisper was sin against Monica’s mouth--when had he gotten so close?! His promise tinted her cheeks a beautiful rouge and he made a deep noise of approval, turning his head to nuzzle her heated flesh. “I bet you taste of honey and strawberries, don’t you, little girl?”

“Z-Zaos, w-wait,” Monica shakily reached up to push at Zaos’s chest but that was a mistake. His open silk suit was a trap in and of itself and as soon as she felt the heavy muscles beneath his unblemished skin, she forgot her objections. Zaos smirked against her cheek, his lips moving to her ear.

“You know who I am, Monica. What I can do,” Zaos tempted, his hand curving around her waist to ease her closer still, hating even the scant few inches of space between them. “I could give you anything in the entire world with the snap of my fingers.”

Monica exhaled shakily, all too aware of Zaos’s deep inhale in response, as if he was taking her into his lungs. Her trembling fingers slipped up to his throat for some sort of anchor and he made a deep noise of approval at the slide of silk skin against his own.

“W...What would you want in return?”

“Clever girl, knowing nothing in the world is free.” Zaos drew back from her ear--but not before leaving a teasing lick against the shell, earning him a startled whine that hardened his cock unbearably in an instant. He exhaled in a quiet groan, before giving up on fighting his desire and in a moment’s time Monica was in his lap, straddling him. Zaos was so much larger than she, it forced her thighs so far apart she was forced to settle right over his thick, straining cock and her startled eyes flew to his but he was already smirking. He knew he was...gifted, and he knew she was so petite it would be a delicious burn when he fitted himself between her thighs and claimed her for the first time. That tight little cunt would be sore for days afterward.

Now that she was in his lap, Zaos knew he held all the power, and he knew she would be too distracted to realize he was just as much under her spell as she was under his. Obsession is funny, that way.

“Are you aware of the Elite concept of Pets, Monica?”

She bit her lip, nodding, but it was a gesture Zaos nearly missed--he was too busy focusing on those little teeth fitted against her plump lower lip. Everything about Monica was petite, a small gift from the heavens and Zaos kept one hand around the small of her back, ensuring she didn’t shy away from him. He couldn’t tolerate space between them, right now--perhaps never again.

“Then you know what I want from you.”

Monica met Zaos’s gaze, her heart stopping and then starting so loudly she could barely hear anything else. The entire lounge seemed to cease to exist and if she had the presence of mind to ask, Zaos would have reassured her that he was the only one who could see her; it was effortless to obscure them from prying eyes, and Zaos had been desperate to keep her attention, her beauty, all to himself all evening.

“Y-You want...?”

“I want you to be my Pet.” Zaos was not exactly lying; he did want Monica to be his Pet. He simply wasn’t telling the entire truth; that if she agreed to be his, she was agreeing to his entire Tribe. That was a conversation for a later date, when she’d already signed her life to him and could not possibly hope to escape him. Right now, he conjured up his Pet ring (all Elites had them, whether they decided to use them or not) and as he held the shimmering, expensive piece of jewelry toward Monica like the apple that tempted Eve, he gave her a charming, serpent’s smile. “I want you, Monica. If you give yourself to me, the rest of the world can be yours.”

For the first time in her life, Monica understood that old biblical tale and she understood why Eve gave in. Everything about Zaos was otherwordly, from his appearance to the casual way he manipulated time and space with his magic; she knew he hadn’t had the ring on him, that he’d conjured it up from whereever he’d been keeping it. It shimmered even in the ambient lighting; it appeared similar to a normal wedding ring but she knew, she’d read they were different. They bind a Pet to their Elite, linked by magic or maybe technology or maybe it was some combination of both--that she didn’t know, but she knew if she put that ring on, she would never be able to remove it on her own. Elites take their Pet ownership seriously...and she had no doubt that Zaos would be the type to take it extremely seriously. She wouldn’t be able to leave him...but would she want to? If Zaos was trying to confuse her, to use his sexuality and his obvious advantage over her for so many reasons, it was working. For a fleeting moment, Monica thought to her phone upon the couch cushions but even as she turned toward it, Zaos caught her chin with his fingers, the ring in the palm of his large hand.

“I won’t have you paying attention to anyone else right now, little one.” There was little room for argument, even as Zaos ran his sharp claw over her lower lip, his eyes devouring her as he stared down at her. He was so much taller, she couldn’t even see over his shoulders. “Say yes to me. You know it feels right. It feels...good, doesn’t it?”

There was pressure exerted as Zaos gripped her ass through her dress, forcing her to grind against his covered erection and the pressure on her barely covered clit had her parting her lips in a gasping pant. In the back of her mind, she knew this wasn’t fair, this was cheating, a tactic Zaos must be using to throw her off her logic. But it was so hard to think...because it did feel good.

“Say yes, Monica, and I will satisfy that ache you feel,” Zaos slipped his hand around the nape of her neck, pulling her forward so her forehead against against his, his smoky breath a caress against her mouth. “That’s what you want, isn’t it? To feel me, deep inside, claiming you?” Zaos’s eyes were sin incarnate, his words a mirror of his actions and Monica could hardly think for drowning in him. His tone silken, imploring, so tempting she couldn’t imagine saying no. “Be a good girl and tell me what I want to hear. Tell me you’ll belong to me.”

“...Y...Y-Yes,” Monica was barely aware of what she was saying, but her body was betraying her and so was her heart. Her mind could hardly keep up with the assault on her senses, and all she knew...was that she loved how it feel when Zaos purred out--

“Good girl,” he urged her forward, claiming her mouth in a searing kiss that curled her toes in her stilettos. There was no space between them, her body forced to his and she found she didn’t...want to resist. Her shaking fingers were pressed to his chest, trapped between their bodies as Zaos drank from her mouth, kissing her so thoroughly she knew she was in over her head. No one should be able to kiss the way Zaos could; he was all silk heat and Dominance, so that she was parting her lips for him without needing to be told. His tongue swept along hers, claiming, exploring, tasting every inch of her he could reach and she was so distracted by his kiss that it took her a moment to realize he’d slipped the ring over her finger--but when it bonded to her flesh, she drew back from the kiss to stare down at it. It didn’t...hurt, but she’d have to cut her finger off to get the ring off. The only one who would be able to remove it was Zaos--

“Don’t be silly, little one.” Zaos pressed a kiss to her forehead, finally able to relax now that he’d cemented her forever--by claiming it. “That ring will never be taken off. You are mine, now and forever.”

Monica took a shuddering breath, feeling her lips beginning to swell from the force of Zaos’s claim. Her heart was hammering in her chest, and she was such a strange mixture of excited and petrified. Zaos slipped his hand up from her perfect little ass to her back, urging her to lie against his chest as he picked up his phone with his free hand, swiping to open the camera to take a picture of her lying on him, the ring clearly on display upon her finger.

“Smile, my love. We have to tell the others the good news.”

“T-The others?”

Zaos’s smirk could be felt against her hair as he snapped the picture to send to the ravenous, waiting Tribe. “Oh, darling. You have so very much to learn.”

The End...?

[foxesandferrets]

Under an Umbrella

This is a collab piece for @ainudraws’ 31 Day Art Challenge Day #6! You can go see her lovely lovely art here! (And check out her other inktober pieces!)

I had a lot of fun writing this (when I saw the sketch I was like GWAAAH!) so I hope you like it!

(p.s. you guys should keep an eye out for more collab pieces coming soon ;))

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

The sound of the rain hitting the classroom window rings out like an assault rifle, a militarized attack on Hinata’s fun. He frowns at the wavering view of the schoolyard through the water streaming down the glass, everything soaked and gloomy in the gray darkness, washed of all color and happiness. Nothing fun ever happens on rainy days, at least not at school. At home he can wrap himself and Natsu in thick plastic yellow coats and rubber boots and head outside to splash in the mud until she starts to shiver and they head in and argue over who gets the first warm bath. He always lets her win, but the arguing is the fun part. At school, though, everyone is forced to stay inside, keeping safe, dry, and bored out of their minds.

“At least volleyball practice won’t be cancelled,” Hinata sighs, turning to Yachi sitting across the desk from him.

Yachi looks up from her manga and smiles, nodding. “See? The rain isn’t all that bad. And in the few days everything will be so green and pretty outside.”

“And muddy, so we’ll have to run in the gym.” Hinata slumps down, dropping his chin onto the desktop.

“It’s not so bad. Cheer up, everything will be back to normal soon.”

Hinata sighs, unhappy with how much of a damper the weather has put on his usually cheery mood. He feels like a plant, growing weaker and crankier by the second from the lack of sunlight.

Yachi turns back to her manga, and Hinata squints at the pink cover littered with sparkles and cherry blossom petals. He wrinkles his nose at the boy and girl on the cover. He’s never understood what girls found so interesting about shoujo; there’s no action, no volleyball, and the girls are uninteresting. Though, Hinata has never been particularly interested in girls in general.

“Oooooh, does Yachi have a cruuuush?” Hinata asks, lifting his head and wiggling his eyebrows. Yachi immediately goes scarlet, shoving the manga under the table.

“What? No! Of course not, this is just a really good series,” she tells him, refusing to look him in the eye.

“Let me see!”

“Shouyou!” She yells, but she’s not quick enough to stop him from reaching under the desk and snatching the manga.

He flips it open to a random page, squinting at the boy and girl fro the front cover standing beneath in front of their school. The girl is small and blonde, just like Yachi, and the boy is tall with dark hair and glasses, a mole near his mouth making him almost look like a boy version of Kiyoko. Yachi reaches to take it back but Hinata easily keeps it away from her, one of the only people he knows with shorter arms than his. He flips forward a few more pages, where the girl steps out into the rain without her umbrella, and the boy rushes to share his so she won’t get wet.

Hinata frowns again, he can’t even escape the rain in the fake shoujo world. The girl stands close to the boy, commenting on how warm he is, and Hinata suddenly remembers a time at the training camp when he woke up late at night closer to Kageyama than either would have voluntarily been when awake, but all his sleepy brain could make sense of was how warm the other boy was. Suddenly blushing, Hinata shoves the manga back towards Yachi, folding his arms and looking away.

“Whatever, take it. It’s boring anyway.”

Yachi takes it and puts it in her bag, dropping her burning face into her hands.

“That’s not real, is it?” Hinata asks, and Yachi shoots him a quizzical look. “I mean, people don’t really act like that, do they?” “Hm, I’m not sure,” Yachi replies, shrugging. “One time Kiyoko let me borrow her jacket to walk home when I forgot mine. I’ve seen things like that in manga before.”

A brief image flashes in Hinata’s mind, of Kageyama standing close, that same feeling of warmth pressed to his side, heavy raindrops falling all around them but not touching them. He shakes his head, forcing the thought away. What is he? A lovesick sitcom protagonist? He has other things to worry about than dumb tall boys with pretty blue eyes, like volleyball and meat buns. Things that matter.

The image sticks, though, no matter how hard Hinata tries to force it away, lasting all through practice and causing him to stumble a few times and miss tosses when he looks at Kageyama. He even contemplates taking a volleyball to the face to clear his thoughts, though he’s tried that before and it never managed to work.

“Hinata! Watch out!”

Hinata turns towards Daichi’s voice, but the words don’t register fast enough, and a volleyball lands hard on the top of his head, knocking him down. There’s a flurry of footsteps and shoes squeaking on the gym floor, the team appearing around him.

“I’m sorry! I misjudged my serve!” Yamaguchi apologizes, while Suga presses softly on the tender spot on Hinata’s head.

“Is your vision blurry?” He asks, while Daichi lifts Hinata into a sitting position.

“No, I’m fine. It wasn't that hard, really.”

“How many fingers am I holding up!” Noya calls out, holding up all ten fingers while Tanaka adds another handful to the side.

“You know, if he has a concussion and falls asleep he’ll die,” Tsukishima says bluntly.

“Tsukki!” Yamaguchi gasps, glaring at him.

“Shut up, he won’t die,” Kageyama says, finally wandering over to the rest of the group.

“You never know.”

“Tsukkiiiii!”

“I don’t think you have a concussion, but you should sit out for the rest of practice,” Suga tells Hinata, smiling gently in that way only moms should be allowed to do.

“Awww, but I-,”

“Suga’s right, rest for a while,” Daichi interjects, voice stern but caring. “Why don’t you head to the clubroom and change?”

“Yeah, fine,” Hinata grumbles, thankful to have a team that cares about him but feeling as if this day is just getting worse and worse. Volleyball practice was the one thing he was looking forward to, and now he can’t even finish that.

It’s all because of this rain, he tells himself as he makes his way to the clubroom, sticking his tongue out at the dark gray clouds hovering over him so close it's suffocating. If it weren’t for the rain he wouldn’t have seen Yachi’s manga, and he wouldn’t be having dumb thoughts about Kageyama acting like a proper shoujo boy, and right now he’d still be playing volleyball and everything would be fine.

Hinata changes quickly, grimacing at the way that everything in his bag seems to be slightly damp and cold, the rain water that found it on his way to the gym sinking in and pressing wet fingers to everything inside. He shivers as he slips a shirt on, his jeans snagging against his skin as he forces his legs in. At least his hoodie survived, adding a fraction of warmth and comfort, though not as much as the Kageyama daydream.

He shakes his head again, groaning loudly. “C’mon, Shouyou, pull it together!”

He fishes his umbrella from his bag, making to leave and get home early to spend the evening moping on his bed, when an idea strikes him. The only real way to combat a problem is to face it head on. Tanaka and Noya taught him that, and they haven’t failed him yet. If it’s a shoujo scene he wants, then it's a shoujo scene he’s going to get, and hopefully then things can return to normal.

Practice should be ending soon, so Hinata acts quickly. He steps outside, looking around to make sure no one is watching, and flings his umbrella with all of his strength, watching it glide through the rain and land heavily with a splash on the roof of the club room. Well, that’s one way to get rid of it, though he’s sure he’ll regret it next time it rains.

The gym doors open, laughter reaching Hinata’s ears through the sound of rain, and he quickly retreats back inside, positioning himself nonchalantly on the floor. When the rest of the team files in he pretends to dig through his bag, painting a concerned look on his face.

“Everything okay, Hinata? Are you feeling better?” Suga asks, kneeling beside him.

“Yeah, I’m fine Suga, I just can’t find my umbrella,” he says, speaking loudly on purpose to make sure everyone hears him. “I must have left it at home this morning.”

“I saw you with it earlier. The cute green one with the froggy eyes,” Yamaguchi pipes up from his other side, and Hinata’s cheeks flare red.

“No, I was just holding that for a friend! Besides, my umbrella is way cooler than that,” he laughs nervously. Yamaguchi knits his eyebrows together, confused, but doesn’t comment further.

“Well, maybe someone can share with you for part of the walk home,” Suga suggests. “We don’t want you getting sick after all.”

Yes, this is all going according to plan! “Yeah, sure, I’ll ask someone.”

After everyone is dressed the team leaves together, walking the familiar path towards Ukai’s store. Hinata hangs back, walking close to Kageyama but trying to seem casual.

“Where’s your umbrella?” Kageyama asks him, as if he hadn’t heard the conversation in the club room at all. Though, knowing Kageyama, he probably hadn’t.

“I forgot it this morning,” Hinata sighs, trying to look cute and pathetic. His mother always said he had good sad puppy dogs, so he might as well use them to his advantage.

“Dumbass. Didn’t you see the forecast?”

“Yeah, but I was in a hurry and left it by the door.” He shoves his hands in the pocket of his hoodie, kicking at a puddle of water.

“Don’t get sick. I need someone to hit my tosses.” And with that, Kageyama keeps walking, his long strides leaving Hinata behind. His jaw drops open, starting to shiver as the rain water soaks through his hoodie and touches his skin. He was so sure that would work, but now he’s cold and wet and even more upset at the rain than before.

“I am a dumbass,” he mumbles, ducking his head and continuing on his path. The rest of the team is far ahead of him now, but he doesn’t care, he wants to be alone to wallow in his failure. He hopes he catches a cold, he deserves it.

By the time he passes the store the rest of the team is already gone, and he doesn’t bother going in, knowing they bought all of the meat buns. He keeps walking, when a flash of blue to his side stops him.

Suddenly the rain stops, or at least it stops just over his head, and a warm arm slinks around his side.

“You’re soaked, dumbass. What were you thinking?” Kageyama’s voice is in his ear, and Hinata doesn’t know what to do or say, frozen as his mental image comes true, though not quite in the way he’d pictured it. Kageyama must have been waiting for him here. The thought makes Hinata’s heart flutter. “Here. I got you this.”

Kageyama holds out a bag with a meat bun, and Hinata silently takes it. There’s a bite taken out of it, but he can’t formulate the words to comment on it. He’s almost too shocked to even eat. Almost.

“I...I forgot my umbrella,” he mumbles around his stuffed cheeks, the food restoring his ability to speak.

“I saw it on the club room roof. The green frog one,” Kageyama says, starting to walk again and pulling Hinata along with him.

“No, that’s not-,”

“Yes it is.”

There’s a pause as Hinata’s brain frantically searches for an excuse, but he can’t think clearly enough, his entire mind focuses on Kageyama’s chest pressed against his shoulder and the hand resting on his hip.

“Alright fine, yes it is.” He looks up, meeting Kageyama’s eyes that seem to shine a brighter blue in the gray of the rainstorm, and he swears he sees a hint of a smile pull at the corner of his lips.

He doesn’t question him further, and Hinata is grateful, finishing his meat bun in the silence.

“You’re a dumbass,” Kageyama says, pulling Hinata a fraction closer, the wetness of his hoodie seeping into his jacket. “You’re going to get sick.

“You could’ve offered to share with me earlier,” Hinata replies, unable to stop himself from smiling.

“It’s not my fault you ‘forgot’ your umbrella. What is this, a shoujo manga?”

Hinata’s face burns, warmer than Kageyama’s touch. “No, of course not. Who reads those anyway?”

Before Hinata knows it they’ve reached his front door. He was so engrossed in the scene, in Kageyama’s warmth, that he hadn’t realized how long they’d been walking or where.

“You didn’t have to bring me all the way home,” Hinata says, feeling immediately cold as he steps up to the door, fishing his keys from his bag.

“Like I said, if you get sick I won’t have anyone to hit my tosses,” Kageyama shrugs, starting to turn away.

“Hey!” Hinata calls after him, not sure why or what to say. “Uh..thanks. For coming to my rescue.”

Kageyama doesn’t reply, just waves goodbye before continuing on his way home. Hinata watches him go, growing smaller and smaller on the horizon before turning and disappearing completely.

The raindrops seem different somehow, lighter and less assaulting as they patter against Hinata’s window that night. He lays awake listening to them like music, the walk home replaying over and over in his head like a happy movie. Maybe if he’s lucky, the rain will last a few more days, and Kageyama’s warmth will last even longer.

[sevensity]

Hey hey,,, what about some scenario-ish things for Vanderwood & Saeran protecting MC from maybe some thugs/wild animals/anything you'd like and then comforting her as she's still scared (poor&trembling, needs love)?? Hope it's not /too/ cliche... But even if it is, it'd be nice if you wrote it... But only if you feel good with it! Hope you have a nice day~

sorry I kinda wrote a lot ^^

Vanny Vanster:

In many ways, Vanderwood was much like Saeyoung, though the mostcommon trait they shared was their inherent avoidance of the outsideworld. 

He would not even open the windows to let a breeze circulateinside, defending his position by stating that the wind would carry germs andmore dust to clean into the house. 

He never went to visit anyone, and nobody ever came over

In other words, Vanderwood was a hermit. 

He stayed within the boundaries of his own home, ever sosuspicious of even the smallest mouse - not that any every made their way intohis immaculate living space. 

But today was the day. You vowed to make him leave the house foronce, by any means necessary.

From an outside perspective, your plan was a rather silly one,with at least a 70% chance of failure, but you didn’t care, it was all for thesake of getting your loved one out in the big wide world. 

 The plan went like this: tell Vanderwood you’re going fora walk in the forest, call him, suddenly panicked, saying that you’re beingchased by something, and then queue Vanderwood swinging down from a tree orsomething to rescue you. You would then both proceed to have a lovely stroll onthe sunlit path, arm in arm. 

This vision of yours was tinted a rosy pink, with imaginary flowerpetals flowing across the scene, and accompanied by random sparkles and billowinghair in  a wind that did not exist; allthe components were there to fit the part of a typical shoujo manga, except thepart of it actually being a shoujo manga.

But this was real life, and of course, things didn’t go exactlyas planned.

The ‘thing’ that was supposed to chase you were actually twoof your friends, dressed as dangerous animals, just so that when Vanderwoodarrived on the scene, there would be proof – if not horrible proof – that something was in fact, chasing you. You justsincerely hoped that Vanderwood wouldn’t permanently damage your friends.

As you reached the large butterfly bush that signaled thebeginning of your distress call to your significant other, something unexpectedoccurred. 

The sky darkened. A reasonably explanation could be given if onesimply described it as being a natural weather phenomenon, but the change frombright and sunny to grey and gloomy sent a shiver ran down your spine, and youforgot that such a thing as clouds existed.

You gazed around, aware of how completely isolated you were from everything else.  Your fiends were nowhereto be seen, yet you felt something watching you.

Straining your ears for any sign of movement, you heard adistorted whisper, like the sound that’s made when you’re a few digits off aradio station, so the words fade in and out, interrupted by white noise. 

And the sound was growing closer. 

“Guys, this isn’t funny!” you call out, wondering if yourfriends had decided to pull a prank on you.  But of course, no answercame. The distorted whispering only grew louder.

You quickened your pace, pulling out the phone tucked away inyour pocket.  Vanderwood’s number was dialed a moment later, and you heardhis voice, momentarily comforting you.

“H-hi!” you say, cringing at how squeaky your voice sounded.

“Is everything okay?” he asked right off the bat. Vanderwood hada seventh sense for knowing when things were off.

“Um well..I’m a bit…scared, actually,” you responded, glancingover your shoulder again. Was it just your imagination, or was the path behindyou beginning to darken?

“What’s wrong?” he said.

“I’m in the forest, as I told you, taking a walk, but um…things just…don’tfeel right.”

You hear him sigh. “That doesn’t tell  me anything at all.”

“Vanderwood please…I know you can track my location…can youjust, come here for me? Please, I-I’m scared,” you whisper. Your legs began toshake.

He probably heard the urgency in your voice, and gave you ashort “Fine,” before hanging up.

Another thing that Vanderwood had in common with Saeyoung washis uncanny knack for appearing out of nowhere. You were sure it had taken youat least twenty minutes to arrive at your location from the house, yet not twominutes passed before you saw him step out from behind a tree. What a trulymysterious person.

You ran to him, heart beating wildly. You felt as if everythingwas slowly getting darker and darker, you wanted to leave, to be safe again,to-

“MC? Are you okay?” he said, his arms quickly wrapping aroundyour waist. You collapsed against his chest.

“Shh, it’s okay, I don’t know what’s going on but..I’m here now,”he murmured, rubbing your back.

The snapping of a branch behind you broke thesemi-romantic moment as Vanderwood went straight into God Mode. He spun youaway from him while he roundhouse kicked atthe shrubbery behind him.

There came a muffled whomp, a low, pained groan, and then “Shit, Juhyeok, I knew this was a badidea.”

You recognized those voices. Your friends who had agreed to helpwith your plan.   

Peering around Vanderwood’s arm, you see the both of them on theground, dressed in the most obnoxious animal costumes you’d ever had themisfortune to lay eyes on. It would seem you had forgotten to stress the dangerous animal aspect of the entirething.  

Juhyeok, the victim of Vanderwood mighty foot, had been KOed,and he now lay on his back, cow costume complete with a large pink udder, whichrather grotesquely protruded from his belly. 

The other friend, a girl who went by the name of Gaeyon hoveredover him, face hidden by the hood of a bright blob of fluff that could havepassed for a duckling should it not have been neon green. 

How the hell did I not see them? you ask yourself, before spotting a large cameoblanket and a tiny handheld radio, which seemed to have taken the brunt of thekick and had broken in half. Everything made sense now. 

“You forgot to tell us that your partner was akung-fu master!” Gaeyeon exclaimed. You stared at her pointedly, trying toremind her through your gaze that for the sake of the operation, you weren’tsupposed to know each other.

She quickly shut her mouth, apparentlyremembering that part.

Vanderwood looked from you to the people on the forest floor,then back to you.  He tilted his head to one side, a quizzical look on hisface.  You answer with a wry smile and a half shrug.

“If you try any of these things every again,” he finally hissesat them, “I’ll wedge by foot so far up his ass ‘he pointed atJuhyeok, “that he’ll still feel the shape of by boot by the time he’s inis nineties.”

With those words and a dramatic flick of the cloak thing healways wore, Vanderwood whisked you away and back through the forest, like princecharming but with more rugged hair and the ability to kill you with cleaningsupplies. 

You still felt a bit jittery, but having his warm hand aroundyour own made you feel better.

Vanderwood clucked his tongue. You looked to him just as he shookhis head:

“Damn furries.”

SaeRAN ε=ε=ε=ε=ε=┌(；　・＿・)┘

You’d always wanted to be strong, to be able to defend yourself,to not be a damsel in distress at such times and instead rely on your ownprowess to get out of sticky situations. . 

But there you were, cornered between a brick wall and the backof an ice cream parlor, finding yourself face to face with two large guys andabsolutely no idea what to do. Well, you knew calling for help was a sensible idea, but shock does strange things to you and the way you think,especially when it’s not a sensation that you’re used to.

Things weren’t supposed to have turned outthis way. Today was supposed to bea date between you and Saeran, you were supposed to havespent the day with him in town, eating ice cream from the parlor and strollingthrough the streets. 

But life has a funny way of twisting your expectations around.

“Hey sweetheart, how about you hang  around with us instead of that punk?” one ofthem leered, taking a step towards you. He reeked of cigarette and sweat.

You opened and closed your mouth, desperately trying to make anoise, any noise, but you foundyourself to be as mute as a fish. 

“Yeah, and we’ll give you something so much better than icecream,” the other chuckled.  You felt goosebumps starting to spread acrossyour skin, and you willed yourself not to collapse onto the pavement.

Saeran,  you thought desperately, Saeran, please, help me. 

You pressed yourself closer to the wall behind you, trying toget your voice to work, dimly aware of the hand reaching towards you, almost inslow-motion, getting ever closer, and closer…

And then you saw the eyes. They were like two angry, pale orbs,glowing in sheer fury against the shadowy darkness behind your assailants. 

“Touch her and I’ll kill you,” Saeran hissed, his voice as coldand sharp as the blade he wielded in his hand.

“Wha-?” began the guy on the left, turning towards the source ofthe voice. In one swift motion Saeran hit the man’s knee, a sharp rackresonating through the air upon contact. He also struck out at the back of hishead, and the assailant crumbled to the ground, leg bent at an awkward angle. 

The other guy took one look at his partner, glanced at the knifeSaeran held in his hand, then turned tail and fled back to the street.

At long last, your will gave out, and so did your legs. You slid down against the wall, until you were kneeling on the ground.Everything was a bit hazy, and you felt cold, so, so cold. 

“MC?” Saeran called out to you. But you could only mumble anincoherent reply. 

As suddenly as Saeran had appeared, you began to cry.  Youdid not know exactly why, but it was probably a mix of stress and relief, sobsracking your body as you held your face in your hands.

Saeran sauntered over to you and crouched down to your level,his blade disappearing into a hidden pocket in his boot. You sensed him observeyou for a moment, before something rustled and you felt a weight settle acrossyour back.  Confused, you paused and looked at your arms, which werecovered by a thick leather jacket.

It smelled like Saeran, like home, like the warmth of hischaracter that he was convinced he no longer had. 

You sniffled and hugged it closer to you.

“Th-thanks,” you mumbled.  

Saeran lifted a hand and placed it gently atop your head.

“Look at you, little miss troublemaker,” he chided, a softnessto his tone that he reserved only for you. 

You giggled weakly at him and leaned forward.  He caughtyou, pulling you close, your ear pressing against his chest. The sound of hissteady heartbeat was a soothing melody, like a tonic to your rattled nerves.Your breathing came and went in time with his own, and you slowly relaxed intohis warm embrace.

The rest of the world fell away, and right at that moment, itwas just the two of you, living alone together on another plane of existence.

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad date after all. 

[missmeikakuna]

(GL/Yuri) Shoujo Heroine… and Friends Chapter 1

It's heeeeeeeeere! Please comment your thoughts and like it if you, well, like it.

Rated: T

Fandom: Original story

Relationship type: F/F with some F/M

Description:

Sahana is friendly, innocent and optimistic, making her the perfect shoujo anime heroine… except she’s not the main character of this story.

When school prince Toyomi asks her out, she starts hanging out with him and leaves her friends behind. Prim and proper Masami and tomboyish slob Kunie don’t seem to have much in common outside of their friendship with Sahana, but they try to make the best out of a lonely situation.

So why is the god of love and marriage watching them, red string of fate at the ready? CONTENT WARNING: Some homophobic language and bullying.

Chapter 1: I guess we’re friends 

Sahana was one of those kids who smiled more than she should. Yes, even when surrounded by five girls whose glares screamed, ‘He’s ours!’

She was going to be doubly late if the girls didn’t leave her alone, so naturally, she finished the now cold toast in her hand. No way was she going to risk choking to death by running to school with it in her mouth.

This would be the time when I’d tell you about how she was an ordinary girl who somehow got whisked off to a magical land or something. You know, ordinary except for the bright pink hair in short pigtails and the gigantic blue eyes that I could compare to some gemstone. Yeah, no. I mean, for one thing, this isn’t a fantasy story. Also, she isn’t our main character.

A girl with a bright red ponytail and matching eyes sprinted to Sahana and used her arms as a barrier between her and her bullies.

‘Back off before I cook your intestines and feed them to my dog,’ she said in the voice of a noblewoman. You know the voice.

One of the girls claimed that such a threat didn’t scare them, but they all took a few steps back at the exact same time, stopping when one of them bumped into someone. This time it was a tall and thin but muscular girl with short blonde hair and icy blue eyes.

 ‘Now, Masami, that’s a bit extreme,’ she said to the redhead, her voice deep and slightly hoarse. ‘I doubt your dog would want to eat these girls’ intestines. Don’t be so cruel to him.’

The girls ran as far as they could, then turned around and headed to where they were supposed to go.

‘You guys didn’t have to do that,’ Sahana said in a sweet, high-pitched voice, looking up at these girls who were much taller than her. ‘But thanks!’

Masami and the blonde girl enveloped Sahana in a bone-crushingly tight hug. It didn’t take long for Sahana to notice the crumbs on the blonde-haired girl’s face, which gave her an excellent opportunity to namedrop the character. Thank you, Sahana, for making my job easier.

‘Were you running late too, Kunie?’

Masami let go of Sahana and crossed her arms. ‘She was eating breakfast in the classroom. Honestly! Crumbs everywhere! I was just about to tell her off when I heard one of those girls badmouth you.’

Kunie yawned and stretched her arms. ‘Whatever. Sorry I don’t have a butler serve me a three-course meal every morning and wipe my face with banknotes.’

‘I don’t either! That’s no excuse! Honestly, you are so….’ Masami and Kunie looked at Sahana with apologetic eyes and Masami coughed until her word disappeared. ‘Anyway, what caused you to be late?’

Sahana dropped her smile and furrowed her eyebrows. ‘When I woke up and looked through my window, I realised that my drapes don’t match my carpet.’ Masami covered her mouth to stop herself from doing what Kunie was openly doing: laughing. Sahana continued. ‘I wonder if I should dye my carpet to match the drapes. What do you think?’ Kunie started wheezing. ‘What’s wrong? Did I say something weird?’

Kunie patted her shoulder. ‘You’ll find out when you’re older.’

Sahana pouted because of course she did. Whenever she does this I kind of want to pinch her chubby cheeks, not going to lie.

‘I’m the same age as you,’ she murmured before returning to her smiling state. ‘Hey, do you know where Toyomi is? He messaged me about how he wants to talk to me about something.’

Before getting an answer from either friend, she heard trumpets and turned around. I don’t know where they came from either. That’s Benzaiten’s realm.

Whatever the answer may be, what’s important is that the trumpets signalled the arrival of Toyomi. Toyomi with the peacock-blue hair in a bob and oceanic eyes. Toyomi with the smile that made those miniature oceans look warmer. Toyomi with the hordes of fangirls who looked at each other like snipers preparing to shoot.

With a flick of the wrist he held out his hand and Sahana graciously took it. Well then, I guess she really did get whisked away, just to a secluded spot so he could recite a poem he had written for her. He also handed her a little bag of chocolates he had made, which she immediately began eating.

‘Would you like to go out with me?’ he asked her with soft eyes and a saccharine voice.

‘Of course!’ Sahana answered with pink cheeks and a grin that could melt the paint off a door.

Toyomi jumped up and clapped quickly. ‘Thank you! I knew that manga was right. I got to your heart through your stomach.’

The two held hands and stared at each other in a way that passers-by would have found weird but was perfect for them.

Now let’s get back to the actual protagonist of this story. After heading back into the classroom, Masami smoothed her knee-length skirt behind her as she sat in her seat. Unlike Sahana, her seat was at the front of the classroom rather than near the back by the window. Kunie took the middle seat at the very back, completely opposite to Masami. She sat with her legs open, a certain region only just covered by her short skirt, and picked her ear.

A girl from another class entered the room and handed Kunie a letter with a crown sticker on the front. Before Kunie could respond, the girl zipped out of there.

Our protagonist scowled at the empty food packets on Kunie’s desk. She had no clue why anyone would want to go near that desk without a vacuum cleaner. Fair enough.

Kunie read the letter and sighed. A petit girl with long, wavy, light golden brown hair leaned towards her from her seat next to her. She wore a smirk that made it increasingly difficult for Kunie not to groan.

‘I’m sensing a pattern here. Maybe if you showed an interest in Prince Toyomi, this wouldn’t keep happening. Honestly, how many lezzos are in this school anyway?’

Kunie shrugged. ‘You tell me. You seem to be the expert, Dooru.’

The girl looked at her like she had just been accused of throwing a baby into a river. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.

‘Then again, I guess a prince and a prince don’t go together. I mean, can you imagine it?’

Kunie slammed her hands against her desk. ‘I’m not a prince!’ she yelled.

Dooru snickered. ‘Sure, your highness. I will ignore the love letter on your desk, my liege.’

Before Kunie could respond, the trumpets returned and Toyomi took his seat, followed by Sahana and eventually the teacher.

Masami actually, no, really, actually clicked her tongue in scorn as she looked at the clock. Ten minutes and thirty-two seconds late. Miss Date ran her fingers through her oily red hair and breathed a sigh of relief.

Another click of the tongue from Masami. Any more and her tongue was bound to hurt. ‘Um, excuse me, Miss Date, may I ask why you are so-’

‘That’s Ukiwa to you,’ the teacher said with a grin and finger guns.

I apologise. Ukiwa opened the roll book and called everyone’s names. Masami noticed a hickey peeking out from behind the teacher’s shirt collar.

Masami reached under her desk for her pencil case but felt plastic wrap. She pulled out a bag of cookies and a tiny teddy bear. She didn’t even have to look at the tag to know who it was from.

She turned her head and saw Fumie, a thin and frail-looking girl who wore her mint hair with violet tips in high pigtails. She had eyes of different colours, one matching the top of her hair and the other matching the tips. A cross hung from her neck. The girl had a hopeful face and one thumb up. Masami saw her clean desk and smiled at her. When she turned back around, she noticed other students holding bags of cookies.

When lunch arrived, Sahana bowed her head and held her hands up as if praying. ‘I’ll hang out with you guys next time, I swear! I just want to have some alone time with Toyomi.’

Masami and Kunie were about to respond but Sahana and Toyomi had already disappeared by that point. All they could do was look at each other and shrug.

They both took their lunch to Sahana’s desk and giggled. ‘I guess we should go somewhere else this time,’ Kunie said.

They sat at Kunie’s desk because Masami refused to let Kunie dirty hers. Masami held up her bento box rather than attempting to fit it on the tiny rubbish-free space on Kunie’s desk. They ate lunch quietly, Masami picking her own brain for a topic of conversation.

All she could contribute was, ‘So, uh, it’s kind of weird, isn’t it? How we haven’t hung out by ourselves before.’

Kunie nodded, swallowing the piece of fish in her mouth before continuing. ‘Yeah. I mean, we’re supposed to be friends, right?’

‘Yeah, I guess we’re friends.’ Masami almost corrected her blunder but she kept her mouth shut in case she made another.

Now I know what it’s like to pray to the gods and hear nothing but silence.

As if answering my own prayers, eventually the trumpets returned and Toyomi sauntered in the classroom, followed by Sahana. Gitan, a stocky boy with messy black hair and a tan, sneered at the peacockish boy with the glowing face.

‘Finally got yourself a boyfriend?’ he asked.

Toyomi gave him a smile. ‘I’m not sure I understand your question. Why would I want a boyfriend? I already have a girlfriend and I don’t like boys that way. But thank you for caring about me!’

Gitan rolled his eyes, muttered some slurs under his breath and turned in his seat towards Masami and Kunie, grinning when Sahana grabbed a chair and sat in between them. He took a pencil and sketched Masami and Sahana holding hands between their chests and looking into each other’s eyes. In reality, they were simply sitting and talking.

‘So what did you get up to without me?’ Sahana asked her friends, who shrugged in perfect unison.