#understand how he formats exams like i really think i could pull this off at the MINIMUM

[pallases]

okay well i don’t know what to do w myself now

[doodlegirl1998]

You know what's really funny to me? The trope of Bakugou in canon being super talented at everything that he does. In canon it's supposed to be for laughs when he's good at random shit, but I don't understand how it's supposed to be funny when the funnier route would have been that this guy has dedicated himself to nothing else but being extremely good at fighting with his quirk and to be a hero that he's actually super ass at everything else. But I guess having a complex version of Bakugou where he learns that there's more to life than heroics and maybe is way less of a demon isn't something that would have been interesting. ALSO ALSO, genuinely I'm confused as to why people think Bakugou is super smart. Like I get that he was excelling at school and was taking mock UA tests and shit, blah blah blah, but:

A) I can totally see his marks getting doctered by Aldera

B) Passing the UA exam doesn't tell me shit about his intelligence, since people who are "dumber" (Kaminari and Ashido) than him also passed the same exam. Without even knowing the proper format of the test (keeping in mind it's also a standardized test) there's no real way to gauge how "intelligent" someone has to be to do well. Also there's a bunch of General-Ed students who passed that test so again, doesn't tell me much.

C) For all the praise that he receives, there's nothing really like "intelligent" or complex about the plans that Bakugou comes up with when people suck him off for being such a good tactician. He fully somehow thought he could overwhelm fucking ALL-MIGHT with his explosions alone, if he's such a good tactician why would he all of a sudden fuck this up? Also, his "counter" to Uraraka's plan was just do bigger explosions, so again, nothing to do with his actual intellect, it's just his quirk. Which brings me to,

D) Bakugou fully should have been taken out by Uraraka's plan. I get that she was tanking hits and he wasn't, but he suffers no backlash at all from unleashing his quirk all day, and is even able to fire off massive explosions no problem. I don't care what bullshit excuse Horikoshi or the fandom comes up with, unless Bakugou has a second quirk that makes him indestructible or lets him cancel out forces, those massive explosions would have shattered his arms and legs from the recoil. But nooooooo, Todoroki suffers from acute frosbite and Midoriya shatters himself when he uses OfA. But Bakugou? Ah well, sometimes we'll remember that he's running out of sweat or his wrists will hurt a little or sumthin.

E) Why is Bakugou (and I guess Kirishima by extension as well) more ripped and buff then Midoriya when canonically somehow managed to balance a fucking small pick up truck on the last pile of garbage that he stood on when he cleared the beach. Midoriya should be jacked and stacked like Jotaro fucking Kujo in part 3 and be an immovable object, yet some how Bakugou is shown to be physically stronger than him??? Midoriya should be casually lifting couches with the entire class sitting on it so he can vaccum underneath.

PS. I think it would've been exponentially better to have IZUKU be the one who is good and talented at random shit. Like the kid who didn't have the one thing that is required of all heroes (a quirk) and tries to overcompensate for his "uselessness" by being insanely talented and skilled at tons of different hobbies would have been an awesome angle, he's genius enough to pull it off. Not only would it give us more insight on his life before All Might, but it would also make Bakugou less of a Mary Sue (seriously, the narrative bends over backwards for him) and Izuku less of an untalented loser (again, the narrative loves shitting on him, sweet Jesus). Having Bakugou be terrible at everything besides heroics and Izuku being good at everything "besides heroics" might've made for an interesting character parallel that Hori insists on shoving down our throats for 400 chapters straight 😒

Hi @stormiclown 👋

💯. I completely agree with this.

Bakugou being ass at everything that doesn't involve his quirk would have been much funnier, and it would have made more sense narratively for the reasons you listed.

In a good story, that fact would have also forced Bakugou to grow and realise that in UA, he's no longer a big fish in a small pond - he's just one of many talented children.

As you rightfully pointed out, it would have made much more narrative sense for IZUKU to be the ripped one, to be the talented and intelligent one. He would have felt like he would have had to prove he wasn't useless growing up, so it would have made more sense for Izuku to have dozens of hidden (and developed - where did Izuku's quirk analysis go?!) talents.

Then, for Izuku to feel jarred by the amount of praise and appreciation he is getting now, he isn't "useless quirkless Deku" that he felt like he was at Aldera. Then for Izuku to flourish and grow as a result.

[musicfeedsmysoul12]

You know what's really funny to me? The trope of Bakugou in canon being super talented at everything that he does. In canon it's supposed to be for laughs when he's good at random shit, but I don't understand how it's supposed to be funny when the funnier route would have been that this guy has dedicated himself to nothing else but being extremely good at fighting with his quirk and to be a hero that he's actually super ass at everything else. But I guess having a complex version of Bakugou where he learns that there's more to life than heroics and maybe is way less of a demon isn't something that would have been interesting. ALSO ALSO, genuinely I'm confused as to why people think Bakugou is super smart. Like I get that he was excelling at school and was taking mock UA tests and shit, blah blah blah, but:

A) I can totally see his marks getting doctered by Aldera

B) Passing the UA exam doesn't tell me shit about his intelligence, since people who are "dumber" (Kaminari and Ashido) than him also passed the same exam. Without even knowing the proper format of the test (keeping in mind it's also a standardized test) there's no real way to gauge how "intelligent" someone has to be to do well. Also there's a bunch of General-Ed students who passed that test so again, doesn't tell me much.

C) For all the praise that he receives, there's nothing really like "intelligent" or complex about the plans that Bakugou comes up with when people suck him off for being such a good tactician. He fully somehow thought he could overwhelm fucking ALL-MIGHT with his explosions alone, if he's such a good tactician why would he all of a sudden fuck this up? Also, his "counter" to Uraraka's plan was just do bigger explosions, so again, nothing to do with his actual intellect, it's just his quirk. Which brings me to,

D) Bakugou fully should have been taken out by Uraraka's plan. I get that she was tanking hits and he wasn't, but he suffers no backlash at all from unleashing his quirk all day, and is even able to fire off massive explosions no problem. I don't care what bullshit excuse Horikoshi or the fandom comes up with, unless Bakugou has a second quirk that makes him indestructible or lets him cancel out forces, those massive explosions would have shattered his arms and legs from the recoil. But nooooooo, Todoroki suffers from acute frosbite and Midoriya shatters himself when he uses OfA. But Bakugou? Ah well, sometimes we'll remember that he's running out of sweat or his wrists will hurt a little or sumthin.

E) Why is Bakugou (and I guess Kirishima by extension as well) more ripped and buff then Midoriya when canonically somehow managed to balance a fucking small pick up truck on the last pile of garbage that he stood on when he cleared the beach. Midoriya should be jacked and stacked like Jotaro fucking Kujo in part 3 and be an immovable object, yet some how Bakugou is shown to be physically stronger than him??? Midoriya should be casually lifting couches with the entire class sitting on it so he can vaccum underneath.

PS. I think it would've been exponentially better to have IZUKU be the one who is good and talented at random shit. Like the kid who didn't have the one thing that is required of all heroes (a quirk) and tries to overcompensate for his "uselessness" by being insanely talented and skilled at tons of different hobbies would have been an awesome angle, he's genius enough to pull it off. Not only would it give us more insight on his life before All Might, but it would also make Bakugou less of a Mary Sue (seriously, the narrative bends over backwards for him) and Izuku less of an untalented loser (again, the narrative loves shitting on him, sweet Jesus). Having Bakugou be terrible at everything besides heroics and Izuku being good at everything "besides heroics" might've made for an interesting character parallel that Hori insists on shoving down our throats for 400 chapters straight 😒

Honestly I think Bakugou is competitive enough he does excel in multiple areas. But it's cause he worked at it, and has no natural talent with them. And he doesn't talk about what he's bad at.

Like- I headcanon he sucks at sewing and doesn't talk about it. At all.

I also headcanon while he's a good cook, none of his food is safe for ANYONE but himself to eat thanks to his Quirk.

As for the rest: Bakugou is shown to take studying seriously, and I think he is a good test taker. I just also think that he's probably not as far ahead as others. Someone sent an ask pointing out how high end UA is, so Kaminari and Ashido are probably much smarter then we think they are, they just don't show it. Like- Kaminari has shown he's good with literature and I always picture him as good with languages. (He's also a nerd who thinks he should read things in their original language) Ashido I see as being really into stuff like sociology and social studies due to her introverted nature.

Just because they're the lowest in class doesn't mean they're complete idiots. Someone has to be bottom of the class.

For Bakugou- as I said I picture him as a good test taker. Some people completely flub tests but rock other forms of learning, but the opposite is true and that's how I picture Bakugou. He doesn't talk about how his essays aren't as good as some of the rest of the class, or does he brag about his other classwork. But tests? He rocks them.

I do like the idea of Izuku as being much better then Bakugou in multiple things, he just doesn't talk about it cause Bakugou would pitch a fit and/or society enforced that he's worthless.

I firmly think the sports festival was a dumbass plotline with Bakugou and Uraraka should have won, I agree. I think it would have been very humbling, and would have actually been a good start of a redemption arc for Bakugou. But then, I think he should have also been in the bottom five of the class because UA has different standards vs other schools.

Bakugou is such wasted potential as a character who introduces how society sets kids like him up to fail, but it's ruined. 'He is a top hero' oh come on, he should have been ranked lower and be completely fine with it because he realizes ranks are bullshit and being a hero means saving people.

Or he should have been tossed out of school because of his actions but it's a shonen manga, gotta cut some slack. It's just... so much potential. Wasted.

As for the buff stuff: some people just don't put on muscle well. I'm pretty damn strong for someone in my shape, but I don't have the genes for a muscle body. None of my family does, despite most of us being pretty damn strong. Izuku, we've seen, is pretty damn buff under his clothing. He just doesn't have the right genes to be like Bakugou or Kirishima.

It happens.

[lavenderslemonade]

hey ! how are you? i saw that your requests were open and wanted to just slide on in, so I’ve got finals coming up life of a college student🤪 and was wondering if i could request a hc format w/ rindou and inui with a g/n reader who just lost all motivation? like just tired and drained b/c of school? thank you!

I'm doing well! Actually one of the reasons I really wanted to work on this one is because I actually graduated from college today, so I understand staying up late and writing/studying for classes to the point of just wanting to be done both mentally and physically. So as it's exams season I wish everyone good luck <3

Requests: Open! Please specify if you want a HC or Fic! If you fail to do so you will have a higher chance of being skipped

Warnings: SFW

Rindou and Inui with a G/N Reader Who's Lost Motivation to Study

Rindou:

- Honestly, Rindou could care less about school, thus, he usually skips it. However, he understands how important it is to you, and actually enjoyed picking you up from cram school back when you were in high school together.

- You'd walk to the nearest convenience store and get a container of cheap ramen, eating outside together while talking about your day. Meanwhile, when the weather would turn cold he'd hand off a warm drink to you stating he didn't want the rest, thought you'd enjoy it, meanwhile the cup is full.

- You miss those days.

- Now that you're in college you feel like your very soul is being sucked out of you. You enjoy your major, however, some of the courses honestly proved to be more difficult than you'd expected.

- Your parent's praise of how well you were doing only did so much. You were grateful, yes, however as your eyes skimmed the book before you rereading the passage over and over again, your brain began taking a negative turn.

- It was about seven at night when Rindou found out that your parents were gone for the weekend to visit family, leaving you alone. He had honestly expected you to text him, asking for him to come over however he'd heard nothing over the past few days.

- He understands you have exams, you'd mentioned so a few weeks prior, but this was steadily becoming concerning.

- Thus, he stopped by your regular convenience store and bought your favorite ramen from back in high school and something sweet to surprise you with.

- His old brother likes to poke fun at him for doing such a thing, however, Rin simply scoffs and rolls his eyes. The amount of times you've patched him up, tried to help him study when he did have to take tests, etc. This was the least he could do.

- When he gets to your house, using the key under the mat, he thinks you're asleep.

- He sees the light under your door and peeks inside. You're hunched over your desk like a shrimp and at first, he thinks you're asleep. Walks over to try and take you to bed until he realizes that your eyes are open and staring down at the book before you.

- Rindou takes in the dark circles under your eyes, how red your eyes are from staring at books all day, and honestly it hurts him to see you this way.

- Doesn't snap out of it till he hears you sniffle, eyes swelling with tears before looking at him. You sob that you just don't get it anymore. You've reread the passage over and over but the words are just slowly molding together. Nothing makes sense anymore.

- He asks when the last time you ate was, and honestly you can't remember. You think you ate some onigiri that morning? Or was it the day before that?

- Everything is melding together. Time, studying materials, everything, and you just want to crawl into your bed, dragging Rin with you, and sleep.

- However, this is one of your hardest classes and you just can't bring yourself to do bad. Thus, you keep pushing.

- You tear your eyes away from the pages once more when Rin tells you that he's going to run you a bath and that he'd brought you food. He closes the book in front of you, and he's waiting for you to try and reach for it as he pulls it away.

- He knew it used to make you mad when he did such a thing, pulling you away from your studies so you'd give him attention. However, he watched as you just stare at the desk full of notes, before silently giving him an okay and standing up.

- He runs you a bath, allowing you to soak while he warms up your ramen. When you're out you're in a fresh pair of pajamas and flop into his waiting arms.

- Leads you both over to the couch so you can each and wraps you both in a large blanket while you watch your favorite show. He doesn't really care for it, but you really need to rest, so he pushes through.

- Stays with you the rest of the weekend to make sure you take breaks, eat properly, and don't overw

Inui:

- Another one that didn't really care about school honestly, but he admires how seriously you take it. During school when you'd stay behind to get a little extra studying done he wouldn't study with you, but he would watch you from over his phone.

- Loves how relaxed your facial expressions are when you're studying. Also loves when you get irritated with a question, furrowing your brows and biting at the bottom of your lip.

- Honestly makes him want to kiss them so bad.

- Doesn't pick you up from cram school like Rindou since he usually has to stay late to help Draken close up the shop, but he does stop by your apartment to spend time with you or to pick you up and take you on a date.

- However, ever since you started college it feels like he sees you less and less, which is understandable. You'll call him when you're getting off the train and walking home or while laying in bed discussing projects you have to do, papers you have to write, etc.

- Sounds like too much work in his opinion, but he's proud of you.

- You mentioned on your last date that you'd be studying for exams over the next few weeks, which he understood, however, he didn't really expect you to go quiet.

- He checks his phone on his breaks to see if you've messaged him to which on rare occasions you will, but on others, it'll be about two-three days since he hears back from you.

- He'll call you on the weekends to try and ask how studying is going but he can hear just how tired you are. Asks why you're up at nearly midnight to which it takes you a minute to respond, "It's already midnight? I thought it was only seven?"

- Wants to do something for you but he doesn't exactly make a killing at his job as he and Draken are still figuring everything out.

- However, he misses you and wants to see you at least for a couple hours.

- Randomly shows up at your apartment to see if you'd like to go out on a surprise date. Your parents are out for the evening on their own date and let him know that they'd leave the apartment door unlocked for him so he could surprise you.

- Gets concerned when they mention that they've been worried since you keep yourself holed up in your room.

- When he opens your door he's surprised to find you sitting on the floor, multiple books laid out and notes scattered around. You look exhausted, weakly reaching out for another sheet of paper to scribble on, but you're stopped when someone pulls the paper away from you.

- You think it's your mother getting ready to tell you for the fourth time that day to take a break and eat something, but you're even more surprised when your eyes connect with your boyfriend's emerald ones.

- Instead of pouting that he took your study material away he watches as you tiredly reach for another book to study. Even though it's your first semester in college he remembers you stating that your goal was to make top scores on all your assignments and exams but is it really worth this?

- Your eyes are red from crying and lack of sleep, the area under your eyes is darker, and the large hoodie you wear concerns him, knowing that if he were to look under it there's a chance you've probably lost a bit of weight from the neglect you're putting yourself through.

- You state that you just need a few more minutes and then you'll join your parents for dinner and take a break. He lets you know that they left about an hour ago and it's nearly nine at night.

- A silence lingers between the two of you as you realize that the day is gone and you're still trying to figure out this one section you have in class. It just won't stick no matter how many times you write it, no matter how many times you read the materials, it's not clicking and to make matters worse nobody including the teacher is responding to your emails asking for help.

- Your brain finally snaps back to reality when you feel Inui drape his work jacket over you. It smells like grease and sweat, but that's okay because it smells like him.

- He leads you out of your apartment and to his motorcycle. You don't even question where you're going, you just let him drive you around as you grasp onto him tightly.

- You finally end up at the beach nearly an hour later. Leaves you with his bike as he rushes to the convenience store across the street. Comes back with two bentos, premade onigiri, your favorite drink and some poki for dessert.

- He remembers when his dad would take him and Akane out when she had exams in high school, buying the same treats and sitting outside at the park near their home for a small picnic so she could get some fresh air and rest.

- Inui feels that the beach would help you relax with the crashing waves and keep you away from your books for a while.

- He sits in the sand with you in his lap, the two of you eating away, and at random points, he gently pokes at your bottom lip with his chopsticks trying to feed you.

- The two of you end up spending most of the night there, at least till you're about to fall asleep.

- Takes you back to your apartment telling you to pack some clothes and takes you back to his place for the weekend. Let's you bring one book to review that you're really struggling with and some notes, nothing excessive.

- Helps you study, and makes you take breaks outside.

[bruhstories]

Sticky, Saccharine & Sinful

Summary: Professor Jaeger asks his assistant to come over and grade some papers. Pairing: Zeke Jaeger x Fem!Reader (modern AU) Warnings & Content: language, protected sex, fingering, oral sex (female & male receiving), spanking, daddy kink, bossy Zeke, bratty Reader, tying up, bit of an age gap but no underage shit (we don’t do that here) Word Count: 2.5 k

A/N: Huehuehue guess who finally wrote a daddy kink smut? Also I have looped Cherry Cola by Kuwada the entire time i wrote, proofread and formatted this bitch, I think it works with the atmosphere

"Y/N, I'm gonna need you to help me grade some papers later today." Professor Jaeger pushed his glasses with his index finger as he looked up from his book.

"You got it, boss!" You nodded as you entered the staff lounge room at Stohess Uni, two cups in your hands.

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Zeke?" The man sighed. “Or at least call me professor.”

"But I'm your assistant, you're my superior, that makes you my boss, boss." Sarcasm dripping down your tongue as you placed his coffee down the table. "All black, two cubes of sugar."

"Thank you. And yes, technically I am your boss, but you're, what, six years younger than me?"

"Seven and a half." You pouted.

You've been working at Stohess University for a little over a year now as Zeke Jaeger's assistant. He was the best philosophy teacher, as well as head of the department, and you nailed your internship interview, aspiring to be like him one day. He even taught you Ethics during your masters, and currently you were doing your PhD research under his coordination. The man was a genius in his field, and you didn't dare disappoint him, but your personalities always clashed. He was calm and collected, you were bubbly and all over the place. He was nice and polite, you were sarcastic and rude. Zeke knew you'd make a horrible teacher for children, but undergraduate students would adore you.

"How can you drink hot coffee in this heat wave?" You asked him as you fanned someone's epistemology essay to cool yourself off.

"It's actually been proven that warm drinks hydrate better than cold ones during summertime." He inhaled the scent of freshly brewed coffee before taking the essay out of your hand.

"Whatever you say, boss." You shrugged and gulped on your iced tea, a few glistening amber drops dripping from the corners of your mouth, down your chin and your neck. "Ah, shit." You wiped the tea with the back of your hand, not catching Zeke watching you curiously. "Why did the AC have to break down today of all days?"

"Dunno." He shrugged and immersed himself back into his book. "Oh, I hope you don't mind coming to my place to grade the papers? I don't think you'll be able to focus in this heat. Besides, I want to take a look at your latest PhD chapter." Jaeger told you absentmindedly, eyes glued to the pages in front of him.

"Sure thing–"

"Don't say it."

"Boss."

"Jesus Christ..."

You adored pissing your ex-professor off, but deep down, Zeke couldn't deny the fact that he loved the authority he had over you. You were a very alluring woman, after all, and any sane man would kill to be as close to you as he was, let alone boss you around like he did. And he had the strong feeling you acted like a brat around him on purpose. You took your leave after downing the rest of your beverage, going to the library to borrow some books for your own research.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You rang the intercom and waited for Zeke to let you inside the building, dragging your feet down the hallway, tired from carrying so much shit with you – laptop, books, essays, papers, pens and highlighters – you were a walking, talking stationery shop and one could only wonder how someone with such a petite frame was so strong. Zeke waited in the doorway and took some of your things, relieving the weight as you sighed.

"Coffee?" He guided you to his kitchen.

"Water, please." You plopped on a chair and unbuttoned the first three heart-shaped buttons of your lilac shirt, tiny beads of sweat bundled up at your collarbone.

"You sure? I'll be keeping you up all night." Jaeger laughed. He was obviously talking about the papers, but to you, the sentence had a different innuendo — not that you minded, you had your fair share of sinful fantasies with the older man. Come to think of it, you were wondering why he was single. Zeke was undoubtedly an attractive man, he could have any woman he wanted. Yet you’ve never seen him on a date, never seen a picture of a woman when you accidentally glanced at his phone, never heard him talk about a significant other.

"Hey, mind if I smoke?" You asked, noticing the ashtray on his table.

"Not at all, I'll join you." He sat opposite you, mug of coffee in his hand. You pulled out a pack of pink cigarettes from your backpack and placed one between your lips, pocketing your jeans for a lighter. His hand extended over the table, lighter in his hand, and you slightly bent your head forward, eyes glued to his. You inhaled the smoke, not breaking eye contact, and exhaled with a sigh. Something about Zeke lighting up your cigarette made your little cunt tingle.

"Thanks, boss." The corners of your lips turned into a barely visible smirk. You really, really liked to tick him off.

"Don't mention it." He told you before lighting his own cigarette. What, no comeback? No objection? "How's your paper going?"

"It's... going." You shrugged.

"You haven't written anything in your last chapter, have you?"

"No, I have," you half-whined, "it's just that I can't find my words. I think I encountered writer's block."

"'S alright, we'll figure something out." Zeke pulled a stack of papers from his briefcase and dropped it on the table.

"Wow, no shit you need help, that's a lot of papers." You twirled the cigarette between your fingers before taking one final puff and crushing it in the glass ashtray.

"Told you." He picked his resting cigarette back from the ashtray. "You can do the first years."

"I'd rather do something else." You whispered to yourself, eyes almost rolling at the back of your head.

"What was that?"

"Nothing, boss. First years, got it." Your manicured fingers pulled the stack of papers closer to you. The exams were already annotated according to subject and year and you took everything you needed before shoving them back to Zeke.

•°☆°•☆•°☆°•

You were bored out of your mind, fiddling with the red pen in your hand and tapping your fingers on the table with no particular rhythm. It was already dark outside and you barely finished a quarter of your stack while Zeke was halfway through his.

"Could you please stop that?" He asked you without even bothering to look at you.

"Why?"

"It's annoying."

With a groan you rolled your eyes and stopped tapping your fingers, instead opting to fidget your leg, bouncing it up and down under the table. The wooden furniture shook at the movement and Zeke sighed, putting the pen down.

"I understand you're bored, but if you want to be a professor, this is part of the job description."

"I know, I know, but, like, can we take a break? Please? We've been at it for two and a half hours now and I'm just so bored." You looked at him with puppy eyes and a pout on your plump lips.

"Ugh, fine. What do you want to do?"

"I dunno. Got any board games?"

"Only a pack of playing cards." Zeke shrugged.

"Perfect! Literally anything is better than this. I mean look at what this kid wrote: the ship of Theseus ARE a thought experiment. Can you believe it? How can a nineteen-year-old not know proper grammar?"

"Careful, Y/N," he chuckled, "you made a pretty embarrassing error during your masters, too."

"Nooo, don't bring that up!" You got up and walked to the freezer, scanning the contents.

"Why not? It's funny."

"Yeah, for you." You rolled your eyes. "But I still proved my worth." You triumphantly told him, tongue playfully poking out of your mouth from behind the freezer door. Ugh, you were so cute, made to be ravaged. Your eyes settled on the single raspberry popsicle and you picked it up, closing back the door. "Can I have this?" Oh, he knew exactly what you were doing.

"Of course."

With Zeke's approval, you unwrapped the plastic, revealing the rose-tinted dessert, swirling your tongue around its tip. You were a sight for sore eyes, (not so) innocently licking at the popsicle, your gaze on him and his growing bulge. He didn't even bother hiding it, instead relaxing in the chair and drinking you in. It was no mistake that Zeke invited you over, and you weren't stupid enough to believe it was a mistake.

"Do you... want some?" You trailed off as the once cold dessert began melting from your hot lips.

"If you'd be so kind." He patted his lap and you accepted the invitation. His bulge was comfortably uncomfortable against your ass, and you put the popsicle onto his lips, one arm draped around his shoulder. Zeke's tongue moved languidly around the sweet snack and you leaned in, your own tongue licking both the dessert and his lips. It was sticky and saccharine and sinful, and your poor pussy couldn't take it anymore.

"Do you wanna fuck me, daddy?" You naively asked him. He wasn't surprised in the slightest by the name, already suspecting you had daddy issues, in fact counting on it.

"I very much do." His hands were already roaming your body. The popsicle was almost gone, and you deepthroated the last bit, taking the little stick out of your mouth with a pop. Finally, he crushed his lips onto yours and you could tell he had experience. You dropped the stick on the tiled floor, twisting your body to better straddle him. Zeke unbuttoned your shirt as you slowly began grinding your hips against his bulge, earning a groan from him. "Ugh, you bad girl." He threw his head back as you loosened the tie around his neck.

"Are you going to punish me?" You slowly, too slowly unbuttoned his shirt.

"What’s the point of a punishment if you’re going to enjoy it?" He mused, unclasping your bra. You had goosebumps all over your skin and Zeke took one of your nipples in his hot mouth, a hand pinching your other one. You whimpered at the slight stinging sensation

"Does it m-matter if I enjoy it?" His touch became rougher, almost animalistic.

"Of course," he stopped sucking your swollen, oversensitive nipple, "otherwise you won't learn your lesson." You got up and turned around, your back against him, taking your jeans and underwear off, bending down and exposing your cunt to him. "You're going to be the death of me, Y/N." Zeke shook his head, removing his own trousers.

"Allow me." You tucked your fingers behind the waistband of his boxers, pulling them down as you kneeled in front of him. His throbbing cock tapped your face after finally being unleashed from its textile cage.

"I suspected you were big, but this? This is too good." You sneered at his member, mesmerised by its size.

"Just shut up and suck it." Zeke pretty much commanded you and you wet your lips, pressing your tongue against the velvety tip. You worked your way around his shaft, enjoying this more than you should've. You pulled back, a string of saliva and precum attached to your lips as you looked up at him.

"Am I doing good, daddy?"

"So good." He grabbed a fistful of your hair and pushed your head back. You eagerly sucked and slurped until he got bored of your mouth around his cock. Zeke pulled you up, spun you around and bent you over the table. He brought your wrists together and tied them up behind your back with his tie before taking a step back and admiring the view. Ass up, face down, just like he loved it. His foot pushed yours to the side, spreading your legs for him before he gave you a good slap over your ass cheeks. You shot up with a moan but his hand forced you back down against the table.

"I think I know exactly how to punish you." Zeke announced, two fingers spreading your folds as his tongue dove inside of you, lapping at your wet cunt.

"Oh, God!" You groaned in pleasure. No man has ever eaten you out like he did. Most guys did it as a chore. Zeke? He was enjoying every single bit of it, passionately fingering you, his tongue moving in ways you didn't think were possible. "Ah, fuck– so good! Daddy, please! I'm coming!"

The way he venomously laughed told you that no, you were not going to come any time soon. Just as you were about to let loose, Zeke stopped, removing his fingers, another slap on your ass. Tears pooled at your Y/E/C eyes, frustration written all over your face. "No, no, no!"

"I told you, Y/N, you're a bad, bad girl." He bent over and whispered in your ear, his cock pressing against your entrance, his hand in your hair.

"Oh, pleaseee, I need to come! Will you let me come?"

"Hm, it depends." Jaeger straightened his back, hands resting on your hips. "Did you learn your lesson?"

"Yes, yes, daddy, I did! I promise I'll be good!" You tried to turn around to look at him, oblivious to what he was doing behind your back, cheeks crimson, droplets of sweat on your forehead.

"Convincing enough." He shrugged and you heard the condom snap against his cock.  Unexpectedly and without any warning, the man thrusted into your wet cunt and you, again, shot up, but he pinned you back. "Stay fucking put, you little whore." Zeke demanded and you tried, you really tried, but your body had a mind of its own. "I see you refuse to learn."

"No, no, please!" You slammed your face onto the table, squishing your cheek in the process, desperate and helpless.

"That's better." He concluded, sarcasm dripping down his tongue as he rammed his cock deeper into you. The silken walls clenched around his hard member, and he grunted, no other woman pleasing him like your tight pussy did. "You like it when I take you from behind, you filthy slut?"

"Yes– oh my God, YES!" You bucked your hips against his for more pressure and pain.

"What would my students think if they saw you getting fucked like this on their papers?"

"Ah– I don't c-care!"

"What would the headmaster say if she knew you fuck your superior and- ugh- coordinator?" Jaeger thrusted harder and faster.

"Please, Zeke-"

His hand found its way to your neck, tightly squeezing it.

"Wrong name, Y/N."

"Shit, daddy!"

"That's right, I'm your fucking daddy and hell will freeze before someone else fucking touches you!"

"Fuc-k, fuuuck!" You both howled and panted as you climaxed, your entire bodies quivering. Zeke pulled out of you, carefully removing the rubber from his cock and giving you another slap on your perky ass cheeks. You stood up, arms still tied around your back, turned on your heels and pecked him on his cheek, giggling like a schoolgirl, marvelled by the fact that he chose you over anyone else.

"You know what, Y/N? Now that I've found you, I'm never going to let you go." He promised.

"I'm all yours, boss."

[futurequeenofravka]

Good Enough - Sirius x Reader

Summary:

After a spat with a Slytherin girl in your year, you’ve start to doubt your relationship with Sirius Black. While you are wildly in love with him, you start to question why he chose you, a “mudblood.”

Warnings: None, I don’t think? Just a little angsty!

A/N: this is my first piece! it’s a lil test of a fic I’d like to write eventually, and it was prompted by mmfd so I decided to tweak the dialogue from the show a little to make it wizarding world esque hahah. But I hope you enjoy! thank you so much for reading, this is the first time I’ve ever shared my creative writing online so please let me know what you think (also please send requests)! Also sorry if the formatting looks a lil weird, posting this from my phone made it kinda wonky.

Word count: 2.2k-ish words.

—

Pst. Psssst.

Sirius’s whisper grew louder until I looked over my shoulder to where he and James were sitting a few desks back from Lily and I. He tried to silently mouth a question as Professor Binns droned on about last night’s reading. James and Lily quietly laughed as they watched Sirius try to repeat himself a number of times before ultimately giving up. I shot him an apologetic look for my lip reading skills, or I guess lack thereof, as I watched him rip up a piece of parchment and scribble down a message. He waited for a spare moment in which Binns had his back turned to the class to write something on the chalkboard and then tossed the crumpled up piece of paper at me.

“What’s it say?” Lily asked as I unfolded the piece of parchment that Sirius had thrown my way.

“Blimey is he fucking annoying.” I said letting out a small laugh as I read the note.

“Well?” She leaned in closer trying to read the note from over my shoulder.

I slid the parchment across our shared desk so that she could read the message as well. Hi. I just wanted to say you look beautiful today. Meet me at the Astronomy Tower at 7? Lily sarcastically groaned as she slid the note back over to me and we pretended to go back to our class work. I turned back around to see Sirius intently waiting for my answer, I rolled my eyes at the silly gesture but smiled as I gave him a small nod to confirm our meeting later.

“You two are so sickly sweet sometimes, honestly I think I might have a toothache.” She said loud enough to provoke a laugh from James who eyed her from a few desks over.

“Beats the headache I get from watching you and Potter dodge your feelings for each other.” I retorted, quietly laughing as I tried to refocus my attention back to my textbook.

After class had ended I said bye to Lily as I made my way to the library to study for my potions exam. Sirius had already promised James that he’d come watch the Gryffindors practice for the upcoming Quidditch match so I’d have to study alone today, which I didn’t particularly mind because usually with Sirius around I hardly got any studying done. He pressed a kiss on my temple before we parted ways. When I got to the library I took a seat in the corner as usual and began to sprawl my textbooks across the table.

In the midst of studying I heard giggles from a herd of girls a few tables over. Looking over I met eyes with Ianthe, a Slytherin also in sixth year, who was sitting alongside Sirius’s cousins Bellatrix and Narcissa. Though I had never spoken more than a few words to either of them, I knew I was not favored in the Black household. If anything, they probably hated me; although Sirius would never burden me with that confirmation, I knew how his family felt about me and “my kind.”

Being muggle born was still a rarity at Hogwarts, and one that pureblood families often had strong feelings against. Lily and I became fast friends because of this. Being two of the only Muggle born students at Hogwarts made fitting in quite hard sometimes. There were often things that we didn’t understand or we lost on. We relied on Marlene, Alice, and Dorcas a lot for explanations and now as of recently on the “Marauders,” as they called themselves, as well. But it was comforting to have Lily around, to have someone who understood experiences unique to us. Someone who understood what it felt like to miss basic muggle things while away at school, like televisions or even just pens.

I rolled my eyes at the giggling girls and went back to reading the next chapter in my textbook. Several minutes passed before my studying was interrupted again, this time I looked up to see the three slender girls approaching my table, a wicked grin plastered across each of their faces as they surrounded my table.

“Can I help you?” I breathed looking up from my book.

“Yes actually. Would you mind backing off of Sirius?” Ianthe mused as she flipped her long blonde hair over her shoulder.

“Excuse me?” I asked, Bellatrix laughed at my response, a cackle echoing across the room.

“I thought dating you would just be his latest phase but it’s been almost 6 months. I expected that he’d come crawling back to me by now but you seem to be standing in my way.” Ianthe ran her fingers over my notes and shuffled my things around as she spoke.

“In your way of what? Stealing my boyfriend?”

“Precisely.” Narcissa chimed in from behind the blonde haired girl.

“Honestly, Y/N. It’s kind of pathetic how you constantly follow Sirius around like a puppy dog. One day I’m sure he’ll bore of having a little pet mudblood and finally come back to his senses.” Bellatrix said, her tone was cold and cruel as she knocked over a few of my things and proceeded with a sarcastic oops.

“I mean our families have been practically planning our wedding since before we were even born.” Ianthe said trying to refocus my attention back on her.

“Shove off, the lot of you.” I said trying to ignore anymore of their remarks.

“Feisty today aren’t we, Y/N. I would’ve never expected such boldness from a filthy little mud blood.” Bellatrix said cackling again.

“Just leave me alone please.” My voice strained this time.

“You really do ruin all the fun, don’t you, Y/L/N? But before we go, I just have to ask, dear. Does our darling Padfoot still like to have his neck kissed? You know, just above that mole.” Ianthe tapped her finger to the side of her neck.

“You’re all sick.”

“Maybe but at least we don’t have dirty blood.”

My heart beat fast as I picked up my belongings from off the ground, desperately trying to get out of the library as quickly as possible. I ran through the corridors back toward Gryffindor tower, tears welling up in my eyes and slowly beginning to fall despite my best efforts to hold them back. I ran past the other students and back to my dormitory praying that it would actually be empty for once. It was not. Lily was sat on her bed reading a book when she looked up to see me tears running down my face while I tried to keep a cool demeanor. Her face cloaked in worry as she asked if I was okay, her words triggered a visceral reaction as I finally let myself break down in tears. She came over to me and brought me back to her bed and hugged me for a moment, stroking my back waiting until I was ready to speak.

After my sobs and sniffles had mostly come to a stop I recounted the entirety of what had happened in the library. Sharing the words exchanged between me and the three Slytherin girls and the doubt that now seeped into my mind. Lily fumed, her anger rising as she listened to me talk about what had happened.

“Y/N, you don’t actually believe that do you?” She asked, her face still cloaked with worry.

“I mean why shouldn’t I? She’s right, I’ve seen the way people look at us.”

“What does it matter what they think?”

“It’s not what they think, it’s the fact that they’re right. You know exactly how Sirius’ family is, I’m probably just another conquest to him. Girls like Ianthe were bred to marry boys like him, to protect their bloodlines. They’ve basically been betrothed since birth, Lily!”

“Sirius is his own person. He is not his family. You should know better than anyone that that boy lives to break rules. And I seriously doubt it but if he doesn’t appreciate how absolutely brilliant you are just because you were muggle born then he’s not worth your time.”

I knew Lily was right, it was rare that she wasn’t. But my mind still wandered to a dark place that echoed with Ianthe’s comments. She stayed with me for another hour or so before she got ready to go over to the Great Hall for dinner. I didn’t realize how long we had been sitting in the dorm. I looked over at the clock surprised to see it was almost 7. I promised Sirius I’d meet him in the astronomy tower soon. Surely I couldn’t face him after what had just happened but my heart hurt thinking about standing him up.

“You going to be alright?” Lily asked before heading out the door.

“Don’t worry about me, I’ll see you later.” I reassured her.

“Alright, if you need anything just give a shout.”

I sighed as she closed the door and headed off. I looked down at my mascara stained sleeves and quickly changed into a clean shirt and wiped away the smeared makeup from beneath my eyes. Regardless of how I felt, I had to face Sirius.

I walked through the empty halls over to the Astronomy tower. Springtime at Hogwarts had an underrated charm to it. The weather was ideal, chill but not too cold. Tonight was no different, the air tonight was crisp, the wind blew gently through my hair as I made my way up the winding staircase. When I made it to the very top I saw Sirius gazing across the school grounds. His face looking intently over the beautifully crafted buildings and through the lush forests around us. I stayed silent for a minute just to admire him. The handsome playboy that I always thought I loathed but whom had somehow not only stolen my heart but had also become my best friend.

When he finally sensed my presence he turned around, my heart fluttered just looking at the kind, dopey smile wiped across his face as he held out his hand for me. When I grabbed it, he pulled me in close. My face buried into his chest as he held me for a minute. I looked behind him to see a blanket laid across the ground a small picnic set up for us.

“Remus helped me bribe the house elves into sneaking me some food so we could have dinner up here.” He excitedly motioned over to the set up.

“It looks lovely, Sirius.” I spoke softly as if my words could be broken with just a tap.

“What’s wrong? Oh Merlin, you hate it, don’t you?” He asked worriedly.

“No it’s not that, it really is lovely. I just, I just don’t get it.”

“Get what?”

“Why you’re doing this for me. You’re a pureblood and I’m...I’m a mudblood.” I took a step away from him, letting go on my grasp on his hand.

“What does that have to do with anything? You know I’ve never cared about any of that.”

“You should be going out with someone like Ianthe, not someone like me. Most people when they see us must be thinking, ‘oh he must be mad going out with that.’”

“That what” he said before raising his voice to echo the question, “that what?”

“You know exactly what, Sirius. Everyone does.”

“What the fuck are you on about? What does everyone have to do with how I feel about you? You don’t get to tell me who I can and can’t fancy. That’s mine and mine alone. Now are you going to stop being a git or what?”

“Stop calling me a git, you’re the git.” I said trying to shove him away but his hands grasped my wrists before I could make my move.

Before I could say another word he crashed his lips into mine. His hands now releasing his grip on my wrists and instead caressing my face. Sirius had kissed me many times before but never with such urgency, like his life depended on it. Like if he didn’t kiss me in this exact moment that he’d never get to again. My hands now pressed up against his chest pulling him in closer to me as I savored the taste of him until we were breathless.

“You’re the git.” I whispered as we pressed our foreheads together, he let out a small laugh at my comment before he spoke again.

“Those twats, they aren’t my family. You are.” His thumb caressing my cheek softly.

“Sirius, I just—“

“You are my family.” He said firmly cutting me off before I could finish my sentence.

“Okay, you say that now but I just hate the idea that you’re choosing me over them. I don’t want you to wake up one day and regret your choice and start to resent me forever. I mean they’re your family, Sirius.” I rambled as doubt still riddled my brain.

“Y/N, listen to me, I will always choose you. I choose you today, tomorrow, and I’ll choose you forever for the rest of our lives. You are the only thing in this entire world I care about.”

“Can I quote you on that?”

“Yes, just maybe not to James, Remus, and Peter. I think they might burst into tears.” He let out loud laugh as he responded to my question.

“I won’t lie, I’d like to see that.”

“I bet you would. Now can we please eat dinner, I paid off the house elves 10 galleons each just so that they would make your favorite!”



[iliveiloveiwrite]

Idol

A/N: I’m back to writing after my little break; I just needed this week to get back to enjoying writing again and I definitely am so here we are! I have so  many requests and yet here I am writing out a Draco fic. This is inspired by a conversation I had with the always lovely @dreamer821​ who loves Cassandra Clare just as much as I do - our conversations are making my day and I think you’re amazing. But it got me to thinking and this is the end result. I hope you all like! And yes, requests are still being written!

Summary: Bookshops, book signings. 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none - fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

You unzip your jacket the moment you enter the warm shop. Draco copies your movement, unbuttoning his suit jacket underneath it too.

You shake your head at him fondly. Only he would dress so formally to an event such as this one.

The welcoming scent of old books and worn pages washes over you as you step further into the bookshop. Your stomach had been full of butterflies all day for you were finally meeting your favourite author after being a fan for so long. Draco had surprised you with tickets to the event for your birthday knowing how much you adored her books but how rare it was for her to travel to the UK.

Draco follows you to where chairs have been set up in expectation. He leans close to your ear, murmuring, “Where are we sitting then, love?”

“I don’t want to seem too eager by sitting right at the front, but I’d like to have a good view and be able to hear her.”

Draco smiles, “What about the third row?”

You nod, letting him lead you to two seats furthest from the aisle. You sit in the final seat; turning your body diagonally for a better view. Draco sits in the seat beside you, carefully placing your bag of books down on the floor in front of him. He had insisted that he be the one to carry them as you had piled six hardback books into the bag after long consideration over which books you would take to be signed. Eventually, you decided on the original hardbacks of the series that made you fall in love with the author in the first place. Nostalgia and sentimentality winning the battle of choice.

A hand on your knee makes you realise that your leg was bouncing with nerves and excitement.

“You okay?” Draco asks, eyes searching your face.

“Nervous. Excited.”

Draco chuckles, watching you fondly. From his happier moments at Hogwarts, he remembers you walking around with your nose permanently hidden away in a book. There was always one series that you would return to over and over again – rereading the first books then reading the new book when it was released. He never stopped noticing how much you adored this author, even after you fell in love with him. He didn’t need to understand your love for this particular muggle author; he just accepted it as part of you. So when he caught wind that she was visiting the UK on a book tour for her most recent work, he immediately bought tickets and surprised you on your birthday.

It was the hardest secret he has ever kept from you. It was the only secret he has ever kept from you.

“Are you happy with your choices of books?” He asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod, grinning, “Very happy. And I get doubled signed thanks to you coming with me.”  

“What better use of your partner is there?”

“Very true.”

“Have you thought of any questions you’d like to ask her?”

You bite your lip, “I have but I don’t know if I want to ask anything.”

“Why not?”

“What if I mess up and make a fool of myself in front of her?”

“Then I’ll have to make a bigger fool out of myself to take the attention away from you.”

You sigh, sliding further into your seat, “I can’t help but wonder how you’d do that.”

“I won’t need to,” Draco reassures, “You aren’t going to mess up.”

“You astonish me with your faith in me.”

“As you astonish me, dear.” He takes your hand in his, tangling your fingers together. “Now, let’s meet your idol.”

Quiet falls over the expectant crowd as the interviewer and your favourite author take a seat at the front of the room.

Your hand tightens on Draco’s as you take in the sight of finally seeing your idol in the flesh.

Draco leans towards you, whispering, “Can you see okay?”

You nod at him as the interviewer greets the crowd and the event begins.

The latest book in her series wrapped up the previous plots from past books before bringing in new issues for freshly introduced characters. Angels and demons were using Earth as a battleground and it was down to a group of misfit teenagers to stop it.

A cliché plot but when you first read the books as a misfit teenager at Hogwarts, you fell in love with the world-building and character development. You had also formed somewhat of a crush on the sarcastic blonde-haired character that as you sit next to him, reminds you of Draco.

He hadn’t read the books, and he didn’t intend to, but he was happy to sit through the interview for you. Anything for you.

You sit entirely enraptured by the author as she details her inspirations for the novel as well as her hopes for the series.

You couldn’t be certain you weren’t dreaming.

Soon enough, the interviewer opens up to questions from the floor. Hand after hand shoot up, all wanting an opportunity to ask a question, to talk to the author.

Draco nudges your side with his elbow. You turn to him, catching his eyes. You stare at each other for a moment before he mouths, ‘go on’. Your hand raises itself in the air.

“Yes, you in the corner next to the blonde-haired man.”

Your eyebrows fly into your hair; you point down at yourself checking the interviewer meant you.

“Yes, you. What would you like to ask?”

You clear your throat. Draco squeezes your hand in support, reminding you that he’s here. “Erm… well my question revolves around the lore that runs through the series. It’s so heavy with mythology and that’s essential to the plot, so I was wondering where you got your inspiration from?”

Your favourite author smiles at you; she smiles at you and you are certain you stop breathing. “That’s a really good question. There’s a lot of biblical references throughout the series given that it’s angels and demons, but I drew inspiration from everywhere. Greek mythology especially, I love the story of Hades and Persephone, so I wanted to include that in some format. But I also enjoy researching the lore and history surrounding witches and wizards such as witch hunts and knew I had to involve magical lore somewhere. The series really is an amalgamation of those interests. Thank you for your question! Thank you for coming!”

You settle further back into your seat as the interviewer takes more questions. You sit there in disbelief at the conversation you just had with your favourite author. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline. You could cry from happiness right now.

Draco’s arm wraps around the back of your chair; he leans in to whisper in to your ear, “You did good, love.”

“I did?” You mouth.

He nods, smiling at you before turning his attention back to the Q&A session. You let your mind wander slightly, taking it all in. Her books had been your lifeline through Hogwarts where you felt lonely and invisible; they had been your comfort through exam stress, and teenage stress. You knew you could return to her books and feel as if you were being welcomed home.

You didn’t know that Draco had noticed you.

It was the perfect relationship, really. You both adored books; Draco loved his non-fiction and latest journals in the advancement of potion making and medicine. You loved your fiction; transporting yourself to different worlds for hours at a time.

The library in your home was split down the middle; your books taking over one half, his taking over the other half. In the middle of the room was a couch where you would both spread out on a weekend and either read or catch up with work.

Draco’s hand on your shoulder brings your attention back to the room, “They’re moving onto the signing. Are you ready to meet your idol?”

Excitement bubbles in your gut, “Never more ready.”

You both the join the queue where you give your names to the worker waiting with sticky notes to put in your book. Draco says your name when asked; you look up at him questioningly, but he shrugs it off.

You’re practically bouncing in your spot in line as you amble closer and closer to your favourite author. You can see her head over the top of the line where she signs book after book, personalising each one.

The line gets shorter and shorter and it isn’t long before you’re standing in front of her, “You asked the first question,” she says, recognising you.

“I did,” You say, somewhat in shock, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Well (Y/N),” she starts, signing the first of your books and pulling the second towards you, “I loved that question, so thank you for asking it.”

“Thank you for writing these books; they meant the world to me through high school.”

“I’m glad they mean that much to you. Thank you for coming today!” She says, signing your last book with a flourish before handing the pile back to you.

You smile at her before turning away; watching Draco as he walks up to her with his pile.

“Another (Y/N)?” She chuckles.

“Not really, she’s my partner. I’m getting them signed in her name.”

She looks taken aback, “That’s lovely.”

Draco shrugs, “She would read these over and over again in high school. I never saw her without them. I couldn’t let her miss this at all.”

“That’s… really very sweet.”

Draco smiles, “Thank you.”

She takes her time signing his final book, saying to Draco that she’s writing a special message to you. She hands it back to him with a smile and a ‘thank you’. Draco nods his head before walking over to where you’re waiting for him with barely concealed tears in your eyes. She cannot help but think Draco looks exactly what she pictures the protagonist to look like.

“Love?” He asks, taking your pile of books from you and putting them carefully in the bag.

“Oh Draco,” You say, wrapping him up in a hug. Your face hidden in his chest; arms wrapped around his middle. “Thank you,” You utter, words muffled by his clothes.

Draco chuckles, placing the bag of now signed books on the floor, and running a hand through your hair, “You’re very welcome, love.”

You look up at him, tears still in your eyes, “You’re the best, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but it’s nice to hear it sometimes.”

You step back, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket. Draco picks up the bag of books in one hand and holds your hand with the other. You walk out of the shop, taking a moment to fasten coats and jackets against the chill of the evening air.

“You asked a wonderful question, love.” Draco compliments.

“Thank you, darling. I wonder if she knew we’re a witch and wizard.” You muse.

Draco hums, “I do wonder myself. Is there a lot of witches and wizards in the books?”

You shake your head, “Not really. Though there is one figure that reminds me of Dumbledore in his description.”

Draco chuckles, “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he met her once upon a time.”

You laugh with him, “No, I suppose it’d make sense.”

You fall silent as you walk down the street; hands swinging between your bodies.

“What did she say to you?” You ask Draco after a moment, “You looked to be having a good conversation.”

“She mentioned that I was the second person with your name, so I said that I was your partner. She thought I was very sweet; I’ll have you know.”

You lean into his arm, “You are very sweet. The sweetest.”

“I’m about to be even more sweet. Shall we get some dinner while we’re out?”

You groan in happiness, “Yes, please. I don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

Draco barks a laugh as he leads you into a nearby restaurant. You’re seated in a small booth and are given menus before ordering your drinks.

“Thank you for taking me, Draco. It means the world.” You say as the waitress goes to grab your drinks.

Draco smiles at you softly, “Anything for you, you know that.”

“I love you.” You grin.

“I love you too. You want to look at her signatures don’t you?”

You squirm in your seat, “I really do. Is that nerdy? It’s nerdy, isn’t it?”

“It’s not nerdy at all. I know that she wrote a special message for you in one of them.”

Your mouth drops open, “What? Really? You’re joking? Don’t joke about this.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this. She really did write a message for you.” Draco states, handing you the bag.

You pile the books onto the table, moving the ones she signed for you to one side. Focusing on the books that she signed for Draco. You run a hand over her signature; still not truly believing you met your favourite author.

“I can’t believe we met her,” You whisper in awe.

“You best believe it, love.”

You smile at him before flipping open the last book in the pile. The first two had simple signatures addressed to you, but as you turn the pages to the title page, you see her message inscribed in ink:

“To (Y/N), Few find a love like you have with him. He’s a keeper.”

And underneath is her shining signature. She had seen it so clearly; his love for you, and your love for him. It radiates from the both of you.

You show Draco the message and he laughs at it in disbelief, taking the book from your hands to read the message.

Draco eventually hands the book back to you, “I have to say I’m rather inclined to agree.”

“I think I agree with you. You are a keeper.”

His eyes shine with love and adoration as he holds your hand across the table.

********

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @kalimagik​ @summer-writes​ @lupins-sweater​ @slytherinprincess03​ @mischiefsemimanaged​ @soleil-amaryllis​ @masterofthedarkness​ @bforbroadway​ @chaotic-fae-queen​ @peachesandpinks​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @siriusly-addicted-to-writing​ @firewhisky-kisses​ @deafgirltingz​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @harrypotter289​ @sprvpti​ @accio-rogers​ @potterverseimagine​ @figlia--della--luna​ @angelinathebook​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @cheapglitter​ @the--queen-of-hell​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​

[haliyam]

interim (v)

zeke x reader/oc

summary: You return to Liberio not long after the Warriors arrive home from their failed mission in Paradis and discover that things have changed. (Or they will, and maybe a little more with Zeke than you expect.) [Season 4 and manga spoilers ahead]

AO3 link | Ch 1 | Ch 4

Hi again! Forgive me for this chapter and the next few ones, guys. I offer you this art I commissioned and an itty bitty happy-for-a-millisecond Zeke/Reader oneshot in the meantime 😪 (Please notice this I am so happy with it)

As usual, Reader default name Lucy is a cis-female Eldian character with a set background and family name. But feel free to set the substitution for Lucy to your chosen First Name using the InteractiveFics browser extension!

Chapter 5

“Why are you helping me?”

You grit your teeth, peering over at Zeke as he lets go of your foot. He was helping you stretch, seeing as you’re too fatigued to do it yourself, not to mention you’re covered in a heated blanket and he’s put hot towels over and under your limbs. 

He ignores you, like he’s been ignoring you since he entered your room with all of these items, asking instead whether you wanted help or not. Like he’s been ignoring you since you arrived as a guest at the Yeagers’.

You don’t really like Zeke, and you’re sure he doesn’t like you either. You’re six, after all, with all the confidence the world can offer a child in your position, and he’s twelve, with all the arrogance of a boy already training to become the Beast Titan when the war in the South is over. 

That’s why his help is so strange. And without Mrs. Yeager forcing him into it, too?  It’s suspect, and you’re not even sure you know that word yet.

“Why—”

“Shh,” Zeke hisses, looking very displeased about having to respond in any way while you glare at him. When your brows unfurrow and you continue to stare at him expectantly, he rolls his eyes. Still, he finally speaks again. “Why are you like this, anyway? Aren’t you Magath’s new star would-be candidate?”

You were, until the ideology tests began. You don’t know they’re called that, but you’ve been doing terribly at the written exams which ask why Eldians are the dirt between the toes of  real  humans. Your answers show a well-read knowledge of Marley-sanctioned history, but distinctly lack the Eldian shame that comes naturally to your classmates. 

This is concerning to the program and to command in spite of your potential, so it’s up to your instructors to beat that shame into you by keeping you running for far longer than the others, leaving you out of meals, or shortening your breaks and then making you stay behind so you can do everyone else’s grunt work, especially after you dared to look Captain Magath in the eye the first time your class fell in to formation after the first round of exams. And every other time since, like an idiot. 

“Not anymore,” you answer, struggling to keep his gaze. You don’t really want to talk about this with someone who now must only wait to inherit his Titan. It makes you feel small, and nobody in Marley should have that authority.

Zeke wrinkles his nose. “That’s not an answer. It just seemed like you were doing great… and now you’re a baby that has to be coddled?”

Your glare returns, shame be damned, but the pain that suddenly pulses through your body as surely as your indignation quickly drains it. Your pride and your strength are depleted for the day, and you need to save what remains for tomorrow, when you have to face the instructors again. And besides—Zeke has already seen how weak you are. What’s the point? Tybur pride will do nothing for you now. 

You lower your gaze for once. “Are you going to tell the captain?” 

Zeke stares at you. “No? Why does Magath hate you now, anyway?”

You know why. Because you’re still a Tybur, and you refuse to be nothing. Even if nobody knows it. Even if you feel like nothing right now.

Zeke sighs again—a concession of his own, though that is unknown to you. “Fine. Just... my grandparents will get worried if they hear you crying because you can’t sleep.”

“I wasn’t crying,” you lie. Your body hurts so much that you haven’t been able to stay asleep for very long. You just didn’t think he could hear you crying.

“Sure,” he scoffs. He’s lied, too. It’s difficult to hear much noise inside your rooms from the hall—but you did pass him on the way to the bathroom with those puffy eyes just a little while ago. “Just make sure they don’t see you as pathetic as you look now—they already have enough to worry about. If you have to be pathetic… only do it in front of me. Understand?”

You still want to glare at him, but somehow, his words are almost as much comfort to you as the towels he’s heated for you. You don’t know the last time you let your guard down since the Warrior program began for your class, and you’re so tired. His words, however cold, warm you in your newfound frailty.

“Okay,” you murmur in defeat, relaxing in earnest. Your eyes are slowly starting to close.

“Hey!” he snaps within a whisper, quickly reaching for your shoulder and shaking it. You’re too sleepy to notice his reluctant concern. “Don’t fall asleep wrapped up in all this. It’s just a few more minutes, and then you have to go to the bathroom and put this ointment on your muscles like I told you. Remember?”

You do your best to widen your eyes and shake your head awake. The effort ends with you groaning in pain, but you eventually manage a nod. “I’ll stay awake,” you promise. When he sighs again and pulls the seat out from next to your desk to sit at your bedside, you murmur something else.

He frowns at you. “What was that?”

“I’ll stay awake,” you repeat, “but will you tell me a story?”

--

Are you surprised that Willy is coming to visit? Yes and no. Over the years, Willy has perfected the art of making his presence in your life known while somehow remaining completely absent. The nature of the new Lord Tybur’s existence in your world became immutable the summer after that fateful one, after you came crying to him and to Lara when you could no longer bear the loneliness of ignoring your friends’ letters for an entire year. Willy’s response, as with everything regarding Mila, was to turn away and change the subject. It was Lara who couldn’t resist your tears and confessed it all to you—what father told Willy hours before he became Lord Tybur, and then all she learned when she devoured him.

The new Lord Tybur was furious. It was only the second time in your life you had ever heard your brother so angry—but he never stays that way with you or with Lara for very long, and wouldn’t you have discovered the truth after thirteen years anyway? In true Willy fashion, he only smiled days later and expected you never to mention it again. The fact that you have, many times hence, is part of why your relationship is so frayed.  That and his tendency to appear, shower you with affection, and then shrink at the first sign of trouble. After all, how can anyone expect you to love a man who can’t bring himself to stand up for you?

Your resignation to this is mostly what keeps you from worrying too much the next morning, when Zeke leaves for HQ and you elect to join the Yeagers for market day. Part of it is guilt—apparently you and Zeke now consume much more than you did as candidates, and you want to make sure that you’re paying your share—and part of it is that you still feel ashamed for letting Zeke see you act the way you did last night. You still have to take care not to groan outwardly when you remember how you shrugged him off when he tried to be a friend, or how much you practically wailed into his chest. Never mind how you hid behind him from Mila when he let you, like the coward you are.

“You’re so pathetic, Lucy,” you mutter to yourself.

Standing not far from you by a vegetable vendor, Dr. Yeager glances over his shoulder. “Hmm? What’s that, Lucy?”

“Er—nothing, Dr. Yeager. I was just thinking to myself,” you smile sheepishly. Drawing closer to avoid getting jostled by the crowd, you search over his selection. “Oh! That’s… a lot of potatoes. You don’t need to avoid other items on my account. I’m happy to pay for my share.”

Dr. Yeager chuckles. “No, no. You know how much Zeke likes them. And don’t worry, Lucy, I can carry them.”

“No,” you say slowly, exchanging a look with the vendor when Dr. Yeager gives his smaller basket a faithful pat. You reach for it instead, tugging a little when he stubbornly refuses. “I’m taking these. You can carry some of the fish, but I’ll be taking most of the baskets. Hand them over and I’ll bring these to Mrs. Yeager.”

Dr. Yeager sighs. “Very well, Lucy. But only because I know how much you like carp from our friend down the road.”

You grin, and he lets you take his basket so you can fill your much larger one with (apparently) Zeke’s potatoes. As you part ways so he can go and buy you fish, you set out to find Mrs. Yeager. She should be waiting outside a little cafe not far from the market—Dr. Yeager likes doing most of the groceries nowadays, and Mrs. Yeager’s one very important task is to buy the household’s favorite seasonal dessert: grapes. Unfortunately, the best grapes in the zone market are sold by an old man who has a bit of a crush on her, and he doesn’t like seeing Dr. Yeager if he can help it. Or Zeke. Or you. 

That should be her only task, which is why you’re surprised when you find her with a man and a basket full of cured meats when you arrive. 

The truth is you almost miss her, if not for the sweet sound of her amused chuckle right as you decide to head inside to find her. Walking around the man blocking her from view, you approach. “Mrs. Yeager?”

“Lucy!” she waves. 

Her raised brows tell you she wants you to meet someone; evidently, the man carrying most of her baskets along his arms, wearing an apron over a button-down and slacks with his sleeves rolled up. You turn toward each other at your name, and after a blink or two between the two of you, you realize that the man’s shock is more familiar than you first realized—probably because it’s your second time bumping into each other this weekend. 

“Lucy?” he gawps at you.

You give him the same look. “Kellan? What are you…?”

He follows your gaze to Mrs. Yeager, and the way it dawns on his face is enough for you to trust that this is another funny coincidence. “Oh—” He gestures to her, “I was just helping, er…”

“Mrs. Yeager,” you help him.

“Right, Mrs... You’re Mrs. Yeager?” he asks, glancing at her. It’s clear he’s seen her unmistakable red armband, but it’s not polite to ask which child earned you Honorary Marleyan status. 

Mrs. Yeager is accustomed to his curiosity, which he soon realizes along with his manners with an embarrassed flush that makes you smile. Luckily, she takes over for him with a pat on his arm. “Kellan here was helping me with the meats I bought from his family’s shop. He was just telling me that he’s studying to be a doctor, and I thought, what a coincidence—but it seems you two already know each other! Isn’t he handsome, Lucy?”

Such a pointed question. You and Kellan meet each other’s gazes with mutual embarrassment. 

“You really don’t have to answer that,” Kellan laughs nervously, which helps you snap out of your stupor and look at him. You suppose he is handsome, even with his dark hair mired in sweat and slicked back today. He’s tall, taller than Zeke and maybe even Reiner, with a strong nose and gentle eyes that watch you hopefully in spite of his words.

The Warrior program and boarding school means no one has ever looked at you like that before, and the novelty has excitement blooming in your chest. Maybe a slight pink on your cheeks, too, which you try to hide with a smile. 

“I think so,” you say, his gaze and then his shock making you feel a new kind of brave. “And I have bumped into him a few times. ...Sorry again about yesterday.”

“That’s all right. Bumping into you isn’t so bad,” he says almost smoothly, very nearly matching your courage until he remembers Mrs. Yeager and, as such, his embarrassment. “...You know, because Mrs. Yeager bought so much. I’ve never seen my aunt so thrilled.”

You’ve never been this thrilled either—attractive boys were a constant topic for your peers at boarding school, but then you’ve never had the chance to meet one. You still haven’t. Kellan is an attractive man, a few years your senior and hardly a boy. And you aren’t a liar. He’s very pleasing to look at, especially when his eyes search yours so intently. 

“Of course,” you say, trying not to look nervous when you take a step closer and reach for the baskets he’s holding. “Well, thank you for helping Mrs. Yeager. But I can take those.”

Kellan withdraws the arm holding her basket, giving you a once-over. “What do you mean?”

“Lucy is our guest at home,” says Mrs. Yeager, who looks far too pleased with herself. “Even if she refuses to let us carry our own things.”

“Please,” you feign a sigh. “I haven’t kept up with some training for nothing.” 

Kellan looks confused as he glances between the two of you, but he’s determined when you meet his gaze again. “Lucy,” he begins, “remember that bookstore I mentioned yesterday? I was thinking—did you want to drop by after this so I can show you which books you can start with?”

“Really?” you ask. Perhaps you were hoping to see him again, make a friend or two at campus, but you didn’t think your encounters could actually move past hello and goodbye. But Mrs. Yeager was right. He is handsome, dark-eyed and tall, and the idea of more of those shy smiles is a flattering one. “Well… I’d like that. But I wanted to bring these home first. And aren’t you helping at your aunt’s stall?”

“I can take a break,” he says easily, smile growing just a little more confident. “And I can help you bring these home! You shouldn’t be carrying all these yourself. Er… If that’s all right with you, Mrs. Yeager. And I’d just have to change quickly. Been out here since early this morning.”

“Of course, of course,” Mrs. Yeager answers for you, giving you an openly suggestive look. You pretend not to see it, but stifle a smile yourself.

Politely averting his eyes to spare you the embarrassment, Kellan reaches for the basket on your right arm, and for a moment you understand the Dr. Yeager of a little while ago. But you’ve never experienced anyone’s chivalry before, excepting Bertholdt (and he was an angel to just about everybody and he was twelve). You can suffer Kellan’s for now. 

“Thank you,” you say reluctantly. “But only that one. I have my pride to consider, you know.”

“If you say so,” he chuckles, readjusting the baskets along his arms. When he shifts them all to just one arm so he can wipe the sweat from his forehead with the back of his hand, his damp hair glistening slightly, you imagine the tales you’ve read of countryside romances at the school library and remember to swoon a little. When he catches you looking and glancing away, Kellan smiles. 

“Where to, ladies?”

--

You find Dr. Yeager with your carp, and he is just as pleased as his wife to have another helper no matter how much he claims he can take another basket of his own. Your fears of Kellan’s talk of med school bringing out unhappy memories in Zeke’s grandfather come to nothing when Dr. Yeager expresses interest in the university system nowadays, and you’re happy to listen to the men converse about Kellan’s plans for specialization on the way home. 

“I’ll get it,” Mrs. Yeager says when you arrive, hurrying to unlock the door, and the three of you file into the house while she keeps it open. To everyone’s surprise, the door to the kitchen is already ajar: Zeke and Porco are sitting at the table, poring over folders together in silence. It seems they didn’t hear you come in.

“Good morning, you two,” Dr. Yeager’s surprised remark shatters their deep focus, and both of them spring out of their seats. They immediately turn the folders over and stack them next to a small paper bag.

It’s Zeke who relaxes first. “Grandpa,” he greets, casually nodding at each of you until he spots Kellan coming in from behind you. He doesn’t notice himself straightening up to his full height.

Before he can ask, Mrs. Yeager beams at the sight of Zeke’s guest. “Porco! What a nice surprise. You rarely come to visit.”

Porco’s suspicious brow slackens into a smile for her. It’s almost sheepish, and if that’s the case, is it really Porco? “Sorry, Mrs. Yeager.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Things have been really busy.”

“What are you two doing here?” you ask, rubbing your arms as you set the baskets down by the counter. You join them standing by the table at Dr. Yeager’s urging. “I thought you worked Sundays.”

It is Porco, because he snorts, only a little more politely since the Yeagers are around. “We were supposed to, until our Warchief realized he left work at home.”

Zeke shrugs helplessly. “It slipped my mind. I hardly ever bring home work.”

Porco remembers that you were the one in a hurry to leave HQ two days ago, prompting Zeke to forgo leaving the files in his office when Boy Wonder decided he would accompany you home, which is seriously stupid because you don’t really need any more babysitting. But then the two of you did pass by the family bakery and Mr. Finger—so he decides to stay quiet for now.

On that matter, anyway. He gestures to Kellan, who is quietly helping Mrs. Yeager unload the baskets. “Who’s the guy?”

You shoot him a reproachful, wide-eyed look. “Porco—!”

“This is Kellan. He’s studying to be a doctor, a few years ahead of Lucy,” Mrs. Yeager interrupts. She hardly knows him and she’s already proud of him, it seems, pushing him next to you by the table. He apologizes when the surprising force of her shove has him bumping into you.

“Right.” You steady him with a hand on his upper arm and are unsurprised to find muscle there. “Uh, Kellan helped us bring the groceries home. We’re heading out in a bit so he can show me some textbooks I can study ahead of time, regardless of which professors I get.”

“Textbooks?” Porco repeats with a chuckle. “Since when do you study, Blanchard?”

“Since a while ago, Galliard,” you say pleasantly, even with your teeth gritted, wondering if it’s possible to burn alive with embarrassment while hoping Porco catches alight himself. When the new Jaw only continues to look amused, you sigh. “Kellan, this is Porco, and that’s Zeke.”

You could announce their last names, but everyone in the zone knows who the Warriors are, and Kellan already seems uncomfortable. You hope it’s not because of Porco’s remark and consider throttling the man.

“Pleasure to meet you,” Kellan says anyway, politely offering his hand.

You hold back when Porco shakes it. It goes on for a little longer than you expect and their knuckles are paler by the end of it, but you suppose that’s better than nothing, which is exactly what Zeke gives when Kellan extends a hand to him next.

“The pleasure is ours,” Zeke says in lieu of doing anything else. He’s smiling, one hand in the pocket of his uniform while the other holds half the stack of folders. “Kellan, right? You’re pretty persistent, huh?”

Kellan presses his lips together as he withdraws his hand. “I’m sorry, have we met?”

Zeke stares at him a little longer before he chuckles. “Nah.”

You’re not surprised. Zeke always takes his time warming to people, if he ever does. When he meets your gaze, his amusement softens into something a little more natural.

You smile back, unsure why you feel embarrassed all of a sudden when Mrs. Yeager comes up from behind you. “All right, Kellan, thank you for accompanying us home. Now, off you two go.”

You survey the kitchen counters with a grimace. The groceries still need sorting. “But Mrs. Yeager—” you and Kellan start in unison, and then exchange glances. His light laughter is a little more than charming.

“Ugh,” Porco mutters, echoing more than just his own sentiments. 

“Don’t worry about it,” Mrs. Yeager says before you can notice. She rounds the four of you to pat the shoulders of Zeke and Porco. “I’ve found two new helpers in your stead. You can spare a few minutes, can’t you, dears?”

Kellan looks to Dr. Yeager. “But—”

“We can handle it,” Zeke cuts him off, but he’s decidedly ignored the man, waving at you instead. “Do what you need to, Lucy.”

“Thanks,” you beam at him, feeling oddly silly. Like a child playing adult as Kellan opens the door for you. “I’ll see you later.”

“Have fun, kids,” Porco calls out. He chuckles when you glance over your shoulder to shoot him a deadpan look, only to find Zeke giving him the exact same one once the front door clicks shut.

“What?”

--

“I’m sorry about that,” you say as soon as you leave the Yeager household and head down the steps toward the street. You glance back at Kellan, waiting for him to follow. “Zeke and Porco are nice when you get to know them. And vice-versa.”

Kellan nods, looking at you. “You seem close.”

“Yeah,” is all you can say. When you don’t say more, he doesn’t pry. 

He asks to drop by the market again so he can pick up his things and an extra shirt, and you walk in relative silence until you reach it.

“I’ll be right back,” he says, open palms pressing at the air as if you’ll disappear the moment he leaves. It’s cute from someone so much taller than you.

“Go ahead,” you smile, and he does too before diving back into the crowd.

You adjust your armband as you back into a nearby building and watch the coming and going of Eldians through the tightly-packed throng. Long ago, during your first foray into one of the zone’s open air markets, you were disgusted and confused. Only your growing regard for the Yeagers and the thought of Zeke’s sarcastic surprise at the little you knew of the world had kept your mouth shut. 

Over the years you came to accept it as part of this temporary home, and market day a time when Eldians could happily interact with familiar faces and keep one another apprised of their trials amid life in the zone. The strong stench of the place became a reminder of this affection you could only find within a community, one completely nonexistent in the grand, empty gardens of the Tybur estate. 

The first summer after you left showed you that to Eldians outside of Marley, the Liberio internment zone—a place you still consider a prison for people you care about, where stepping outside its gates to look for a pharmacy when those in the zone have nothing more to offer can end in a beating—is paradise. It’s the most ridiculous thing in the world, but it’s your world. The world that the Tyburs have allowed to flourish. 

Alone with your thoughts, you find yourself nervous. Why is Willy coming here? Only Mila was ever permitted to come and visit you—but that was when father was still alive. 

Perhaps if Willy sees Liberio, the place that raised you...

You find yourself hopeful. Maybe it was father all along. Maybe Willy isn’t a coward after all.

“Sorry about the wait. Lucy?”

Kellan stands before you, hair no longer damp but brushed down a little more properly. The apron has disappeared in favor of a new button-down, the strap of his messenger bag slung over his shoulder. 

His sleeves are still rolled up. You like that.

“Don’t worry about it,” you smile, readjusting the purse at your side. “Ready to go?”

Kellan nods, and is much more talkative now that he feels more presentable around you. He apologizes for his silence earlier—his own scent was bothering him, and he was embarrassed—and he starts to tell you about university as soon as you ask. 

The bookstore he mentioned is a little far from the Yeagers’, but it is useful. Many are secondhand, but the store is vigilant about keeping only those published in the last five years. It regularly gets donations, perhaps from sympathetic Marleyans, though how they would know about it you can only wonder.

Kellan advises you as to the best books when it comes to basic medical subjects, which are what you’ll be taking up in your first year. In spite of Porco’s little joke, you’re eager to get started working toward that degree. General List’s words may hang over your head, but now that Willy is coming to Liberio, you have time to wait to tell him instead of putting off writing Lara about it. 

“Wow,” Kellan remarks, once you’ve bought everything. “You really are serious about this.”

You glance up at him with a frown you can’t help. “You thought I wasn’t?” 

“It’s not that,” he says at once, holding the door open for you as you leave the shop. He offers to take the books off your hands, but you hold the pile to your chest, waiting for his reply. “No, it’s more—I thought I was the only one who did this kind of thing. Study ahead of the year if I can.”

You relax somewhat at his words. “You do this too?”

Kellan nods, and when he reaches again, you let him take half your books. “My friends made fun of me, but I mean to become a physician. There aren’t enough Eldian doctors to attend everyone in the zone, and… I want to help.”

“I see,” you murmur. Suddenly, Kellan seems a lot more charming than he is already. “I bet you’re at the top of your class or something.”

Kellan only smiles, and you blink at him.

“Are you?”

He looks embarrassed about it the way you know most men in your life wouldn’t be. “One of my professors said if I wasn’t Eldian, I might have been offered a scholarship.”

“That’s amazing,” you say, a mix of admiration and pity swirling in your stomach. You wish you could help him. Do more for a man like this. 

“Yeah, well…” Kellan shrugs, but he easily replaces his bitterness with a smile when he looks at you again. “You have a good study ethic yourself. You’ll do great.”

You can’t help but laugh at that one. “I don’t know. Sometimes it feels like passing the state exams was a fluke.” 

“You wouldn’t be here if it were.” It’s his turn to frown. “None of us Eldians would.”

You wish that were true. Of course, you took the exams as Lucy Blanchard, and for all intents and purposes Willy had nothing to do with your results. You studied ridiculously hard to earn your grades and the state exam score—it’s just difficult not to wonder when Lord Tybur has always known what you were up to.

“Look.” He stops, moving to stand in front of you. “I know we just met, but—I don’t like hearing you say that about yourself. Okay?”

You can only smile. You haven’t known Kellan for half a day, but you don’t feel like challenging him the way you would the others if they said that to you. It feels like he deserves more than that. “Let’s just say I was always the more sports-oriented type. But thank you.”

Kellan looks at you as though he thinks you might say something self-deprecating again and he’s ready to gainsay it. When you don’t, he nods with approval and looks ahead. “Uh, so I was thinking…”

“What is it?”

“My friends study with me nowadays on university grounds. We’re allowed to, and the university library does have some books the store might not. The cafeteria has great food we don’t have in the zone, too.”

He glances over at you, and when you continue to wait for his point, he asks, “Do you want to study with us, maybe tomorrow afternoon? We have lectures to attend this summer, but I can maybe… pick you up afterward? The permit office will let you if you show them that you’ve confirmed your slot. If you want to,” he adds.

His offer is surprising and exciting and daunting in equal measure, because of course someone wanting to spend more time with you is nice, even if you’re ambivalent about meeting new people. Of course, the new people you met at boarding school knew you as Lucy Blanchard, the daughter of some Eldian servant for the Tyburs, and they were Marleyan to boot. Kellan’s friends are Liberio Eldians too. Maybe they’ll be just like him.

“I do want to.”

His uncertain expression immediately lights up. “Great,” he beams. “Will you be at the Yeagers’ tomorrow?” 

“Uh… yeah,” you answer, after some thought. You’ll be at HQ most likely, but you can always leave ahead of Zeke. “Just tell me what time you’ll arrive and I’ll have my permit ready by then.”

“Okay,” he says, pleased. “That works.”

You exchange smiles, and he walks you back to the Yeagers with a more relaxed silence than when you left. He hands you your books once you’ve unlocked the door to the house.

“I really have to get back to my uncle’s, but…” He scratches the back of his head. “I’ll see you tomorrow afternoon, right? Maybe… four?” 

“Yeah,” you grin. When he waves, disappearing down the street, you hurry back inside toward the dining room. But it’s empty, with everything sorted in the kitchen. The Yeagers have left a note on the dining table about going out on a Sunday date, apparently presuming you would be out all day, but there’s another note from Zeke on the folded paper bag he and Porco brought home earlier. 

Crybabies only, it says. You thought it was part of Warrior work, but you open it and find a few jars of your old favorite fruit jam.

“Tch,” you chuckle, fishing out the jars and storing them, but you take Zeke’s note and bring it upstairs with your books. 

You get started on a simple lunch soon after. You want to re-wrap your new books in time for tomorrow afternoon, and make a note to replace Mrs. Yeager’s roll of plastic entirely since you neglected to buy your own. Once you get your permit for tomorrow, it’s still early enough that you have time to visit Mr. Finger, especially since you forgot to yesterday, and you end up sharing his dinner. You were embarrassed about dropping in when he was cooking, but he’s happy for the company, especially while Pieck is away.

To your relief, there are no guards in plainclothes outside the Yeagers’ when you return, and Mr. and Mrs. Yeager are in the living room chatting quietly between them. You greet them and hurry upstairs before they can ask you about Kellan, and allow yourself to linger in the bath when your reflection on Kellan inevitably leads to Mila and the night before. 

Given how angry she was yesterday, you already know what she would say to you if she found out about any man like him. Not that you have ever considered sharing your life with anyone, but surely she would accuse you of trying to find some way out of your duty again, even when she knows that the family made sure—

The doorknob turning to no avail rattles into your thoughts. It must be Zeke, since you share a bathroom, so you hurry to get out and get dressed into your pajamas again. Once you’ve brought your things to your room, you give his door a knock.

He opens it pretty quickly. It seems he wasn’t expecting you, because he looks surprised to see you still drying your hair with your towel. On his part, he’s still in his uniform—just without the coat and the belt, one side of his shirt unceremoniously tucked out of his pants. “Hey.”

“Hey,” you smile, more pleased than you should be. You feel like you’ve been waiting to see him all day. “Was that you? I’m done with the bathroom.”

“Ah. Thanks. I’m still finishing something anyway,” he nods, and leaves the door open when you don’t immediately turn and go.

You follow him inside, flopping at the edge of his bed while he goes to his desk again. “What are you working on?”

“Warrior stuff.”

Something must have him in a mood, but there’s no use poking him at this stage. “I saw the jam. Thanks for that.”

Zeke turns away from his desk, his serious countenance lingering just a little before it finally falls away for mischief at the reminder of his little gift. “Like my note?”

“No. And only because it means I’ll have to share it with you.”

“Heh. Yeah, sorry—just putting off turning in paperwork I should’ve gotten done before.” He sighs, obviously trying to settle down, at least until he seems to recall something else. He glances back at whatever he was writing, his pen swaying noisily between his fingers as it hits his desk. After a beat, he slides his work a little further away from him and asks, “How was the date?”

You’d almost forgotten about that. “Oh—it wasn’t a date,” you say, and realize how strange it feels to be discussing a boy with Zeke. “Kellan is just helping me study ahead of the semester.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, like a promise. You don’t care to mention that you’ll spend time with Kellan and his friends tomorrow afternoon. That was implied, right?

Zeke shrugs, sitting back against his desk chair. “When did you get so fond of studying, anyway?”

You shoot him a dirty look. “The way you and Porco tell it, it’s like I didn’t know how to read.”

“No,” he laughs, making the denial sound a lot more like affirmation, “I just mean you hated it. Before Bruning knew who you were, you were in the running for either the Jaw or the Armor for a reason.”

You peer at him. When Zeke only lifts a brow, challenging you to deny it, you click your tongue. “I guess. But I didn’t inherit anything, so what was I supposed to do? I was never interested in the varsity teams… not that they would have let me join as Lucy Blanchard. And I wanted to be useful somehow. I mean, actually useful.”

“I know,” Zeke says, watching your fingers lightly pinch at the hem of your pajama top in frustration. It’s almost amusing how your tells haven’t changed a bit, but he can’t deny that it’s endearing.  “Well… I’m glad you’re doing something apart from getting me in trouble for once.”

Your jaw drops. “I never got you into trouble for that long, did I?”

The two of you meet eyes for a moment, knowing the answer to that, but you both choose not to bring it up. He wouldn’t put you through that memory again.

“I don’t know,” he grins. “How long did I stand there getting an earful when you glued Nickel’s belt together?”

You stare at him, genuinely trying to remember—before you burst into laughter, hand over your mouth in sheer horror at the memory, as though you can’t fathom ever having done such a thing. Zeke is shaking his head, trying not to smile, when you finally calm down enough to present your defense. “That—that was Pieck’s idea!”

“No, Pieck said she wanted to do it. You actually did it.”

“But it was funny,” you grin. “And Nickel deserved it. Besides, I paid for that too.” 

“Yeah…” Zeke’s smile falters. He remembers. You had been about this close to being force-fed the glue you used that afternoon, when you found one of Magath’s fellow instructors asleep in his office. “Nickel deserved everything that came to him.”

He remembers what you looked like when they found you, busted lip still stubbornly set in a line, trembling as Pieck shed silent tears when Magath dragged Nickel out of sight. But then your foot nudges his leg, pulling him from his reverie so he remembers what you look like now. Not a bruised or bloody memory that still wakes him at night sometimes, covered in sweat, but Lucy in the flesh, with a knowing expression on your pretty face. Zeke supposes he’s just as easy to read when you know his tells, too. 

“Well... sorry about that anyway,” you say. “Pieck had a name for my brand of stupidity for a reason.”

Zeke knows what you’re doing. He grants it to you with a sigh. “No sense of self-preservation.”

“That. Don’t worry—I’ve developed one since then. Or Pieck’ll really give up on me this time.”

You give him a smile, as if he’s the one who needs comforting when it comes to that night. Why did he have to bring it up? He would put his foot in his mouth if that didn’t remind him of Paradis—of his most recent nightmare. The thought of everything you don’t know makes him feel like an ocean separates the two of you all of a sudden. Like you’re here, and he’s still on that island, a blade jammed into his maw. He shivers. 

You lean a little closer, elbow on the footboard. Of course you’ve noticed. “What’s wrong?” 

Leaving his pen on the desk, Zeke moves over to sit next to you on his bed. If nothing else, he can at least shorten the distance in one way. 

He has a lot to tell you, Paradis foremost of them all. He knows Pieck must have said something, but he’s managed to avoid the topic so far. 

He has a lot to ask, too—what was normal school like? Did you really not have any friends? You seemed to make easy enough friends with that Kellan character.

Zeke looks at you like he wants to say something, and then gets as far as opening his mouth before clearly thinking better of it. 

“It’s Pieck.”

Alarmed at his tone, you inhale sharply. “What about Pieck? Is she all right?”

He was holding his breath himself, but he relaxes with a chuckle.

“Yeah. She’ll be back with the Panzer Unit in less than a week.”

“Oh! Good,” you say, but then stare at him, obviously catching the lie in his old answer now. But he sees it when you shift priorities (Pieck was always one of them)—you’re clearly excited to have her home earlier than she promised, but the why of it is giving you pause. “So soon?”

“Yep.” He shifts away so that he’s moving up his own bed, at least until he catches you giving him a disgusted expression. You can’t stand it when someone still in their  out  clothes wears them to bed, and he knows that very well. That earns you an eyeroll, but you’ve had so many arguments about it at this point, many of which began with well it’s my bed and which ended only because he couldn’t stand hearing you talk any longer, that Zeke only sighs and practically vaults himself off his sheets so he can grab a change of clothes before you can start.

He makes a twirling motion with his finger when you look, and you turn to face the wall. This must be the quickest that Zeke has ever grabbed or changed his clothes outside the rush of Warrior training as a kid. He doesn’t know why he’s suddenly conscious with you in the room. It’s just you.

“You know it doesn’t count if you don’t shower, right?” you ask.

Zeke makes a snorting sound as he climbs back onto his bed in a shirt and a pair of pajamas, even if he feels like he’s twelve wearing the whole get-up right now. This time he ignores you until he’s got his back against his pillows and the headboard, legs stretched out over his blanket and his arms crossed over his stomach. “Do you want to know why Pieck is coming back soon or not?”

Your turn to roll your eyes. “Fine.” 

Smiling triumphantly, he pulls out one of his pillows and tosses it on the empty space next to him. You wrinkle your nose at him, but he did give you the clean pillow when he’s given you the other before, so you let yourself fall forward on your stomach and rest your head on your arms, both crossed over his pillow. Your hair looks warmer than usual against the light of his lamp as you peer up at him. “So?”

Zeke looks away and shrugs. He shouldn’t be telling you this. But if his room isn’t safe for secrets, then where is? “One reason. Lots of movement in the south these days.”

Between the old Southern borders of Marley and Ulodana lies its new Southern territories, swept off the board by Marley and into its net in years past through the efforts of the Warrior generation before yours. Mr. Ksaver’s, to be exact, before they started training children. You had heard of minor attempts at guerilla warfare within those former nations in their bid for freedom, but little else. After your summer excursion with Mila, you began to distance yourself from news of the world when it came to Marley’s expansion, the Warriors’ activities especially so. Ignorance was better than guilt back then, but Zeke doesn’t know that.

“The South… you quelled a small rebellion there, right?”

“Yeah, but…” One of his hands drums near your pillow, tugging once at its corner as he asks, “You don’t know?”

“The Tyburs aren’t told everything.”

“Fair enough. Between the two of us,” he says, giving you a meaningful look you return with an earnest nod, “a couple of the leaders escaped into the eastern peninsula. Who knows what support they’ve gotten since then?”

You take a deep breath and hum as you exhale. “...That explains why General List reached out to me.”

“List? He’s the one who called the meeting with you?”

You prop yourself up on your elbows. “Didn’t the commander say he was there?”

“He doesn’t tell me everything. So have you decided?”

You almost look amused. “You know I can’t move without Willy’s say-so.”

He shrugs. Needless to say he doesn’t care all that much for the new Lord Tybur, who sounds just as absent as your old man was back then. “I meant what do you want?”

When your surprise at his question starts to fade, you lower your gaze at his quirked brow, slouching a little. “I don’t know. List wants me to… ‘be the new face’ of the Foundation. Distance it, myself from the regime so we can build headquarters abroad and bring in intelligence. That way we can bring more Eldians into the safety of the organization, but...”

“What?” Zeke snaps, sitting upright all of a sudden, but all the reasons you shouldn’t do it skid to a halt behind his teeth when you recoil in surprise. He pauses, clearing his throat, and reaches up to scratch behind his ear instead. “...would your brother put you in danger like that? What about Tybur non-involvement?”

You scoff, eyes narrowed at nothing you can see here. “That’s not what the general thought. He only said Willy wouldn’t do it to Mila.” Zeke grunts at her name, and you shake your head. “I mean… maybe it’s moot. She would never give up control of the Foundation.”

“Yeah... Maybe.” Maybe it’s enough that you’re ambivalent. General List is one of General Calvi’s close allies, and he’s well-known in certain circles to get what he wants. But even he can’t change the century-old tradition of Tybur ‘neutrality,’ even if part of Zeke is curious to see if Mila Tybur or Hulbart List would win in a battle of wills.

He sets that aside when he catches a distant look in your eye. He’s only ever seen one reason you’ve looked like this. Or two. “She didn’t drop by again today, did she?”

You shake your head. “She had Foundation business yesterday. She must have gone from the city last night the minute she left here.”

“Then what is it?”

You look at him, and now he knows what it is. “I just… ugh,” your eyes fall to his sheets. “I don’t know. I was so pathetic yesterday. I wish I—I wish that I could have said something to her.” Your voice is quieter when you add, face flush with embarrassment, “I wish you hadn’t seen me like that.”

“This again,” he says at once. It was difficult not to cut you off from the get-go. “Have you forgotten already? If you have to be pathetic…” He reaches over to graze your chin with the curve of his index finger, tilting it forward so that you meet his gaze. “You can be pathetic in front of me. Understand?”

His soft smile is the same as it was in the hallway yesterday. Warm still, like the solid expanse of his chest when you wept in his arms, but suddenly his finger beneath your skin feels hot. Tingles where he touches you. Like your face, now that he’s looking at you like that. 

That’s not right. Zeke is either an annoying jerk who should shut his face forever or all comfort, blankets tucked up to your nose after a grueling day of work and a warm bath; a good night’s rest. Wrapped up in a hot blanket, the murmur of his voice lulling you into a deep and restful sleep. Not standing over a precipice with only the whim of the wind behind you or the rush of blood pounding through your ears without warning. 

This is not the Zeke you’ve wanted back for the past six summers.

His touch scalds you—or maybe the memories you keep closest to your heart, as if any closer, any longer and it might burn them away forever. 

You tremble, but not with pain, and decidedly ignore it as you stare at him, forcing a slight wince on your mouth. You hope he doesn’t notice you gulp. “That was probably more impressive when I was a kid.”

Zeke lets his jaw drop—it must have been a while since anyone denied him their awe—but he only laughs, so deep and hearty you feel his mirth in your own chest, before he flicks a finger at your nose. “You little ingrate. That was supposed to be touching!”

“Yeah, yeah,” you grin, a little too widely for your own good. Batting away at his hand, you sit up and slide off his bed. You’re strangely hyperaware of the way you gulp again once your feet find your slippers. When your eyes meet, he’s pretending to be cross with you. Maybe you like it better that way. 

“But thank you,” you say, rubbing an arm. “Really.”

Zeke only nods, pushing his glasses back up the bridge of his nose as you head for the door. “Lucy—you still coming to HQ tomorrow?”

You glance back only once you’ve got your hand on the doorknob. “Why wouldn’t I?”

“I don’t know,” he says, but he looks pleased. “All right, get out. Distracting me from work and then telling me I’m not impressive anymore…”

“Spend more time with the kids. They still think the world of you. Good night!”

Zeke could probably chuck a pillow at you when you give him a little cackle before shutting his bedroom door, but he lets you escape with your dignity intact. 

At any rate, he’s in a much better mood when he gets back to work.

////////

If you're worried about Kellan, you can click the fic list link on my bio for spoilers. (assuming you haven’t already read the other oneshots ahahha) 

The flashback at the start of the chapter (as well as the others in the next few chapters) is something of an edited excerpt from a long-ass oneshot I wrote detailing Lucy’s childhood from before she left the Tybur estate, going through her Warrior training, and until a little after the time Lara inherited the War Hammer which I was/am debating with myself about editing&posting maybe after finishing the sequel fic to this which occurs during the Mid East-Marley War. I wondered if I should keep flashbacks out except for 2 crucial flashbacks toward the end of the story, but I’ve been sad about the dumb leaks post-139, having this feeling of ‘what’s the point of all this then if it all ends in that’ (even if this will be canon divergent), and I decided I would like to show the most important bases for Lucy’s relationships with at least Zeke and Pieck before she left, plus editing this in made me happy, so yeah.

Also! I know Zeke was a sweet little boy... but he was alienated by his classmates when he did poorly at first and burdened with expectation his whole life. No doubt that alienation shifted to sudden praise, admiration, or jealousy as soon as he became a candidate, and my hc is it made him a cynical kid when it came to others his age and even older people. Of course, he does eventually learn to be more charming (or annoying) and does have friends (as much as you can have friends in his position and with his life view), but that to me is why he’s like that at 12. Mr. Ksaver is exempt from this obviously as he completely trusts the man.

Another note: This is tagged zeke x reader because it’s in 2nd person POV, but also zeke x oc because reader or Lucy has a set background and family name. If you've gotten this far in interim I'm sure you already know what that is. XD So... please don’t send me hate or frustrations about why she looks like she does in the commissioned art I linked in the top of this chapter. Her family name necessitates that she’s white, I'm sorry. I hate having to say this but I'm not white either, or white-passing or w/e, but as I said in my note in chapter 1 I want to write a Tybur OC. If you’re going to send hate about me making a Barbie doll to complete Zeke or whatever I’m just going to delete it. Lucy is much more than that, in fact Zeke is not an entirely positive force in her life though they may appear to implicitly understand one another, and I have an entire background story and development for her that I‘m excited to write and share. I’m (not) sorry if me taking the time out from that to commission art that makes me happy grinds your gears. Of course I hope that readers will enjoy what I've written for myself but if you don't like it, just click away please. I won't be responding to complaints about that from here on out.

Anyway, thank you as always for reading! Would love to hear what you think. Of the flashback, of Kellan, of Zeke, of Lucy's blatant denial of certain things (I love and hate this), whichever! (Also can you tell I love Porco? He notices everything. Or almost everything.)

[cheri-translates]

[CN] Gavin’s S2 R&S - Tempering (Eng Translation)

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers from an R&S (淬炼) which has not been released in English servers!🍒

This R&S features S2 Gavin!

[ Chapter One ]

Eight-year old Tang Chao wrote in his homework: My aspiration is to be free and easy, and get to sleep after a full meal. 

The teacher failed him.

Eighteen-year old Tang Chao wasn’t able to be free and easy, nor get sleep after a full meal. This is because he was recommended for admission into the police academy.

Everyone knows that he’s a “specially enrolled student”. When he entered the academy, he didn’t even have to go through the “Demon Test”. He wasn’t treated harshly by the officers during training. The first semester consisted of some foundational stamina training and a few superficial criminal investigation classes. In the first month, Tang Chao barely passed in every course. Yet, he remains unusually carefree.

Tang Chao’s roommate feels indignant. “It’s only because your Evol is special. Otherwise, you’d have been expelled from the academy a long time ago with such grades.”

“That’s right, my Evol is special.” Tang Chao arches his brows. “If the academy were to expel me, they’ll experience a great loss.”

Detecting lies is essentially an Evol meant for criminal investigation. And it’s precisely because of this ability that he was recommended for admission into this first-rate police academy despite his average physique. 

“Hmph. Anyway, you only have a few more days of being carefree.” His roommate flips over on the iron bed, sticking out half his head from above. “I heard from the instructors that the first month after entering the academy merely counts as a warm up. Actual training will only begin next week. The higher-ups even sent a third year student to supervise us. Guess who our class got?”

“Who?”

His roommate pauses with each syllable. “Gav. In!”

“Who’s Gavin?”

His roommate almost falls down from the bed. “You don’t even know who Gavin is?”

“Why do I have to know him...” Tang Chao mutters. “Is this person very famous?”

“Famous! He’s so famous! He’s celebrated!”

The famous Senior Gavin had passed, with record-breaking marks, the admission exam, physical capabilities, shooting, Close Quarters Combat, simulated sand tables... His marks for various segments have never fallen below the top three places. In his second year, he was already heading out on missions with full-time Evol agents. Even before graduating, he was so popular that police departments from various districts were already falling over each other in their eagerness to snatch him up.

“...but I heard that mission was pretty tragic. It seems a comrade from the same squadron as him lost his life... Hey, are you listening to me?”

“I’m listening, I’m listening.” Despite Tang Chao’s perfunctory words, he has to admit that this Senior Gavin is indeed more of a special police officer than he is.

Or rather, Evol special police officers ought to be like Gavin. 

“I should caution you. Apparently, he’s exceptionally haughty, and you might as well be a grain of sand in his eyes.” His roommate pats the edge of the bed. “You should be a little more serious next week.”

Tang Chao laughs. “What can he do to me? I’m someone with a special privilege.”

His roommate clicks his tongue, not advising him further. “Seeing that you have such virtuous conduct, you can ask for help after meeting him.

-

[ Chapter Two ]

After assembling in the field on Monday morning, Tang Chao realises that a young man in his twenties is standing next to their class leader. The other party looks fierce, his back even straighter than the Chinese fir trees along the field. At a glance, it’s evident that there’s a world of difference between him and this batch of newly enrolled students.

“This is Student Gavin from the Seventh Squadron. This semester, he will be a provisional supervisor and instructor. In the training from now onwards, I want all of you to be more spirited and driven, and prohibited from embarrassing our class.” The class leader exclaims. “Do you hear me!”

“Yes!”

Amid the uniform responses from the formation, Gavin’s line of sight sweeps across this batch of new students. Everyone holds their breaths and keep silent, thinking that this senior would be giving them a lecture. In the end, the other party simply nods. “In that case, we’ll officially begin. As a warm up, run 10km.”

How many kilometres?

Everyone looks at each other, thinking they must have misheard.

Tang Chao raises his hand. “Reporting to the instructor - We typically run 5km in the mornings...”

Gavin turns a deaf ear to him. “Turn to the right, get ready --- Run.”

[Note] I recorded the audio for his command because why not

At this point, everyone realises that Gavin is truly like what the rumours said, and is not to be trifled with. All they can do is gulp in resentment, running in formation. Tang Chao deliberately lags at the very end, then walks towards Gavin, giving him a salute. “Reporting to the instructor.”

Gavin looks at him.

“I can’t run 10km.” Tang Chao is straightforward. “I have a special situation. The class leader and the others know about it. If I were to run 10km, I’ll really die...”

“Since you’re enrolled in the police academy, there’s no special situation.” Gavin responds. “As for whether or not you’ll die, we’ll talk about that after you’ve finished running.”

“...”

In the end, Tang Chao finishes running. Or rather, he finishes crawling.

The other students in class have already finished running and have headed off for breakfast. He’s the only one who resembles a ghost, drifting on the field. Occasionally, some classmates would pass by. He usually laughs and jokes around while they’re still running, so seeing him - who entered through the back door - finishing last leaves them gloating a little.

Gavin, on the other hand, doesn’t gloat. When Tang Chao staggers to the end point, he speaks with a blank expression. “You’re late by 20 minutes. Have your breakfast. The class will assemble after 20 minutes, and we’ll start with the next training. 

Initially, Tang Chao was already too tired to speak. After hearing this command, he can’t help but do so. “Brother... ah no, Instructor Gavin, even if you’re just showing your authority at the first encounter, it should be enough.”

Gavin furrows his brows.

“Just look at how cooperative I’ve been. Seeing how I've ended up, the others in class will definitely listen and obey you unquestioningly.” Tang Chao cracks his knuckles. “But my physical constitution is really like this. It isn’t my choice to rank at the bottom of the class. Could you just close an eye and let me off?”

Gavin looks at his unwillingness to change, and speaks plainly. “Since you’re so unwilling to undergo training, what are you doing here.”

Tang Chao shrugs. “There’s not much reason. Someone needs me to be here, undergo some simple training, go through the motions, then graduate as a matter of course, then help crack some cases and make a living.”

“What I'm asking is - why are you staying here.” Gavin’s voice turns stern. “If someone didn’t need it, you wouldn't be here? When you were running, I asked your class leader for the training results from your first month. Most of your marks hovered around the passing grade, and you had to re-take a few tests.”

Tang Chao releases an “mm” sound -- even though it’s very embarrassing to be told this in such a straightforward manner, the results are black and white, so he doesn’t hope to get anything higher.

Gavin continues. “From the numbers of your make-up examinations, you actually have quite a lot of potential.”

Tang Chao is left dumbfounded.

“Since you have potential, don’t waste it.” After Gavin finishes speaking, he leaves.

-

[ Chapter Three ]

Gavin’s demon-like training continues. On the second day, he adds weight training and 200 push-ups to the training regimen. At this point, it’s not just Tang Chao who can’t handle it - the other new students in the class can’t endure it midway through. On the third day, he adds an obstacle course and forty minutes of wrestling on top of the basic training.

“I think I understand now. Senior Gavin doesn’t want me to die. He wants everyone to die.” Tang Chao feebly concludes during wrestling training.

Finally, a week goes by. A simulation tactics manoeuvre is added to the training. This is a rare course in which Tang Chao can attain high marks. With an Evol which allows him to detect lies, he’s especially skilled in courses related to psychological warfare. He looks at the holographic sand table before him. Filled with inexplicable courage, he suddenly raises his hand. “Report.”

“What is it?” Gavin’s voice drifts over from the front.

"I wish to challenge Gavin to a round.” Tang Chao raises his voice.

At this moment, soft discussions fill the surroundings. Gavin arches his brows. Amid the discussions, he walks to the other side of the holographic sand table, not engaging in superfluous words. “Which one do you want to start?”

“Rescuing hostages in a factory. I’ll storm the fortification.”

“No problem.”

Tang Chao’s palms begin to sweat slightly, but he maintains the provocative smile on the corners of his lips. “Instructor, if I win, could I be exempted from the remaining training for today?”

Gavin pulls open the map. “We’ll talk about that after you’ve won.”

The holographic sand table simulation is an entirely new course introduced to students in recent years. The maps in the sand table, the personnel’s Evol abilities, the weather and weapons are entirely constructed by the system. Because this is meant to train a students’ adaptive and judgment skills, there’s no such thing as a party gaining an advantage over another through undergoing a similar experience.

Not even after ten minutes after the round begins, Tang Chao’s moves have already garnered him sixty more points than Gavin.

In the lead over Gavin for the first time, his heart finally feels slightly pleased. He can’t help but lift his eyes to cast Gavin a glance. However, the other party doesn’t look frantic at all. Gavin’s line of sight is focused on the sand table in front of him, fingers continuously moving and tapping. The originally three-way defense team is quickly split into nine teams, intercepting and attacking Tang Chao from all directions.

At this moment, students observing from the side burst into an uproar. Having to command nine groups at the same time - is he human?!

Tang Chao is also very shocked. But in the next second, he loses his ability to be shocked. The symbols on the map representing each other’s movements flicker continuously. Gradually, he can no longer keep up with Gavin’s movements - there is too much false information. The moment he calculates that one path can’t be taken, many more paths around him have already been blocked. 

An increasing number of regions struck with red crosses appear on the map. When he finally grabs the hostage, the six teams he originally had have been reduced to a small four-person group by Gavin.

Gavin shuts the holographic sand table. “Any thoughts?”

Tang Chao remains stubborn. “At least I successfully rescued the hostage...”

“You think that’s called a success?” Gavin laughs coldly. “Do you know why the highest marks are awarded based on the number of people left in the simulation? Because every red dot on the map represents the life of a comrade in real life.”

Tang Chao feels as though something is lodged in his throat.

“In an actual operation, the situations you have to face are even more dangerous, and even more complicated than in the sand table.” Gavin looks around at all of the students. “The criminal will not give you as much time and opportunities to make judgement calls. Every wrong decision could result in the death of a comrade.”

His gaze returns to Tang Chao, his tone becoming more severe. “Give it proper thought.”

Tang Chao lowers his head. “Yes.”

“But you were courageous in bringing up the challenge, and it’s worth encouraging.” Gavin curls his forefinger and taps the sand table. “5km, go.”

For the first time, Tang Chao wholeheartedly finishes the 5km run. He pounds his aching and sore legs, preparing to return to the dormitory. Suddenly, he sees his opponent from half an hour ago at a corner not afar off.

Gavin is standing underneath a tree, holding a photograph in his hand.

Gavin doesn’t notice Tang Chao. All of his focus is channelled onto that photograph. In this moment, he seems to have unloaded all his defences, becoming a Gavin different from his usual self. Those perpetually stern eyes have grown dim, bringing with them a twinge of fatigue. 

Tang Chao holds his breath, subconsciously squinting his eyes to identify the photograph. On it seems to be... a female? Could she be Instructor Gavin’s...

But why is there blood on the photograph?

Before he can let his imagination roam, someone suddenly pats him on the shoulder.

“Hey, Tang Chao, have you seen Instructor Gavin?” His roommate asks. “I need to look for him.”

Tang Chao turns slightly, blocking his roommate’s line of sight. He points in another direction. “Oh, I saw him. He walked towards the canteen.”

The lies of a person who can detect lies will never be discovered by someone else. His roommate doesn’t doubt him, and gives him another pat on the shoulder. “Thanks.”

After his roommate walks a distance away, he turns his head once again to look at Gavin, before leaving quietly.

He doesn’t know what that girl in the photograph means to Gavin, but his instincts told him that the tranquil image before him wasn’t one which someone should have disrupted.

-

[ Chapter Four ]

Amid torrential rain, one group continues training on the field of the police academy. The gloomy weather and gloomy atmosphere seem to make the weight on their shoulders much heavier than usual. But this time, no one complains, including Tang Chao.

--Because yesterday, another comrade in the police academy lost his life in a hostage rescue operation.

The pools of water beneath their feet are akin to pools of blood. The wooden piles on their shoulders seem to be alive and breathing, weighing down on them, and leaving them unable to catch their breath. Tang Chao grits his teeth. Even if he’s at the very end of the formation, he doesn’t give up on pressing forward.

“Late by four minutes.” Gavin clutches the watch at the end point as always. “There’s improvement.”

Only Tang Chao knows just how much effort he expended for the few words “there’s improvement”.

In this moment, he vaguely figure things out in his mind. Even though it’s very unclear, there’s a life goal in his heart which is more definite and firm than being “free and easy, and sleeping after a full meal”. Carefree days are definitely good. If he were to cast down the wooden piles and shout “I quit”, he can have them. But as long as he remains in the police academy for one more day, as long as the vow he made upon entering the academy still remains engraved in his heart, his future is destined to have no fate with being free and easy.

Tang Chao releases a muddy breath. He unloads the weight, laying directly on the field. “Instructor Gavin, how did you tell that I had potential back then?”

Gavin is silent for a while. “...actually, that was a lie.”

Tang Chao bursts out laughing.

Perhaps it was indeed a lie from Gavin. But he had followed through with this lie, and enabled Tang Chao to believe this lie too - he had never given up on Tang Chao, and Tang Chao had never given up on himself.

The rain continues pouring down. After laughing, Tang Chao’s voice mixes with the clear water. “Did you know? I suddenly had the ability to detect lies overnight.”

Gavin doesn’t say anything, and Tang Chao continues. “At first, I didn’t even know how to control my Evol. I was so confused, and the people around me were also very alarmed. Because those around me could no longer conceal anything. No matter what kind of masks they wore, I could remove them. Many people were afraid of talking to me. They didn’t even dare to come near to me. That period of time was... pretty depressing. It’s such an incredible ability.”

“Afterwards, I fumbled around and became clearer on how to use this ability. I more or less figured out how to live in such an environment.” Tang Chao points at his head. “The secret is in not caring.”

“It’s not that you really don’t care.” Gavin says.

“That’s right.” Tang Chao smiles wryly. “It’s just that after pretending not to care for such a long time, I’ve become confused too. Instructor Gavin, do you think I can still find the reason for staying here?”

Gavin ponders for a moment before responding. “I can’t imagine how it feels like to be surrounded by lies. But right now, you’re able to walk out from those days, and maintain an independent judgement. It shows that you’re actually much more tenacious than the average person.”

“I don’t think that I’m strong...”

“No one is born strong.”

Tang Chao wipes at the rainwater on his face. “Including yourself?”

“Including myself.” Gavin says solemnly. “I was at a loss before, but afterwards... I found a reason to persevere. I think it’s only a matter of time before you’ll also find a conviction belonging to yourself.”

When Gavin speaks, his intonation doesn’t fluctuate much. It’s as though he’s elaborating on an obvious fact. At this moment, Tang Chao doesn’t use his Evol, because he knows that these are Gavin’s genuine words.

There’s no need to use a lie detector to determine this.

The rain gradually lessens. Tang Chao observes the ash coloured sky for a very long time. His voice is very soft, as though he’s speaking to himself. “I can’t think of any high-sounding reasons. In that case, my goal is to become a person who can live up to this ability.”

Gavin laughs. With neither too much nor too little force, he kicks Tang Chao’s arm with his foot, then blows the assembly whistle in his hand. “All right. Get up and prepare for the next training.”

Tang Chao sits up. “Big Bro, you should at least give me a compliment!”

-

[ Chapter Five ]

Without realising it, the semester is drawing to a close, and Gavin’s task of being an assistant supervisor is ending soon. The class had originally planned to drag Gavin along to a small New Year’s Eve farewell party. In the end, Gavin was sent to participate in a special operation that day, so everyone just brought the farewell party forward, and wish Instructor Gavin a smooth and successful mission.

After the students have left the classroom, Gavin realises that Tang Chao is still standing at the doorway. “Why haven’t you left with the others?”

“I heard this mission is pretty dangerous.” Tang Chao suddenly speaks.

“Every mission is accompanied with danger.” Gavin says.

“Not that kind of danger...” Although Tang Chao isn’t a participant in this mission, he has heard about its contents. “The moment it isn’t handled properly, the dissent between civilians and Evolvers would be aggravated. If the time comes, I’m afraid it wouldn’t end with just a few clashes and bloodshed.”

Although he’s often careless and relaxed, it doesn’t mean that he’s stupid.

“I know.” Gavin nods. “Since you’ve already heard about some of its contents, your class should more or less know about it too - did they ask you to inquire about it?”

“Not really. I wanted to ask you about it myself.” Tang Chao hugs his elbows. “If... and I’m saying ‘if’. If this operation contradicts with the convictions you’ve always persevered in, what would you do?”

“There’s no need for such hypothesis.” Gavin looks at him. “I’ll just use my own eyes to look at it, use my own mind to make a judgement, and not doubt it before the operation even begins. If conviction can be so easily swayed, it means it isn’t yours. Instead, it’s what someone else has forcefully given to you.”

Gavin pauses, glancing at his own palm. Even if its development clashes with my convictions, I’ll use my own methods to handle it.”

When Tang Chao hears this, he’s left dumbfounded. Then, he immediately laughs. “Ah, this answer is truly in line with Instructor Gavin’s style.” He moves over and crinkles his eyes at Gavin. “No wonder the higher-ups purposely trained you to become a leader. With such words, who wouldn’t want to be Instructor Gavin’s subordinate?”

Gavin shakes his head. “I’m not interested in being a leader.”

“Why aren’t you interested in anything? You said you weren’t interested in the competition earlier either...” Tang Chao grins. “It looks to me that the only interest you have is the lady in that photograph, right? When will you introduce Sis-in-law to everyone- ack!”

He receives a blow from Gavin’s elbow.

Tang Chao covers his stomach and pouts, looking aggrieved. “If you don’t want to be a leader, what about being a captain? I heard that after I graduate, the Special Operations Team proposed by the higher-ups will be formed. When the time comes, I reckon there’ll be many interesting and strong comrades joining the team. You can be the boss.”

“Am I the one forming the Special Operations Team? Can I be the captain just because I want to?” Gavin glares at him. “Why not consider whether or not you can join it first.”

“I think if it’s you, I definitely can.” Tang Chao laughs, showing his teeth. “If Captain Gavin can do it, I definitely can do it too.”

A few days later, Gavin sets out. Students from the class send him into the vehicle at the entrance of the academy. Tang Chao gives him a salute and a smile. “Wishing Instructor Gavin an early New Year’s, and wishing you a safe and successful operation.”

Gavin nods, returning a salute to everyone. “I receive your good wishes. Happy New Year. In the future, we’ll definitely meet again.”

Everyone watches as the truck leaves their line of sight. For a very long time, nobody speaks. Finally, with a deep breath, the class leader asks. “Are we continuing with training?”

“Of course we are!”

[canyouhearthelight]

The Miys, Ch. 127

Annnnd a-one, and a-two, and a queue-queue-queue!

This chapter has one of my favorite things in the world to write - Interpersonal relationships (if you are surprised, I’m going to assume you are new here....).

Specifically, one of my biggest pet-peeves is when friends or siblings are written in a way that shows that the author doesn’t actually have any friends or siblings they are close enough to that all rules of societal politeness go whizzing into some far-off dimension as soon as they are in proximity.

When I get to write a chapter with such close friends/ersatz-siblings and also have @baelpenrose cackling and egging me on, it literally makes my whole day.

P.S: If anyone has wondered about the ages of the characters, several are clearly lined out in this chapter......

EDIT: Fixed some insane formatting issues.

“The food festival, Sophia? Really?” an incredulous voice asked before the door to my office even opened all the way.

I resisted the urge to scream, but did surrender to pinching the bridge of my nose and breathing slowly. “Hello, Arthur. Do come in. Long time no see.  Of course I’m not busy…” My one day each week to have a few hours to myself - no mentees, no assistant, even Tyche was off work….

“We saw each other last night when I came over for dinner after sparring with Conor, and  you’re never busy on Saturdays, Alistair makes sure of it.” He dragged a chair in front of my desk for what I felt was the sole purpose of putting his boots on my desk instead of the conference table.

“I thought you two didn’t even like each other, how did you - “

He waved a hand dismissively. “Enemy of my best friend’s enemy is my friend, that sort of thing. Anyway - “

“Did you just call me my own worst - “

“You are, let’s not pretend otherwise. Anyway.” Arthur arched an eyebrow at me and waited for any further objections, but I couldn’t think of any. “The Food Festival. It’s my one favorite tradition on this ship until armed combat becomes a spectator sport, and you are putting Parvati and Hannah in charge of it?”

After a beat pause to make sure he was done, I glared at him. “Everyone has asked me that, and I don’t understand the issue.  They’ve both helped in the past, even before they started training to replace me.  I’ve handed more and more off to them each time, and they did great! Plus, they have three months, it will be fi - Wait, why do you even care, Arthur?”

He held up one finger with the authority of a deity who would have smited me if he could. “One, Parvati Fletcher does not like mapo tofu. You do. Specifically, you like it from that one vendor who grows her own Sichuan peppercorns and uses them like they are an infinite resource. Two, I spend entirely too much time working with Zach Khan, and he won’t shut up about how stressed Hannah is. Three - “ I was seriously starting to get concerned he actually could smite me at this point - “As much as I love you in the most platonic way possible, you are an obsessive, compulsive perfectionist who insists on doing everything herself and running herself into the ground so that everyone else has the time of their lives. So why are you trusting this, the largest and oldest event on the Ark, entirely to other people?” Dropping his boots from the desk, he leaned forward, palms down until we were nearly nose to nose.

“Sophia Reid, I swear on any god I can kill if you are dying…”

“WHAT!?” I squawked, jerking back and standing so fast I knocked my chair over. “For the love of little fish, I’m not dying! I haven’t had a near death experience in four years, thank you.”

“Three, not counting the fact that there is a reason Alistair makes you drink anything through a straw anymore.”

“How did - Nevermind.” I shook my head and tried to focus on the topic at hand. “No, I’m not dying. Nor am I injured, having a midlife crisis, rethinking my life choices any more than I ever do, or so much as in possession of a stuffy nose.” Taking a deep breath, I rolled my eyes and started counting off before I could stop myself. “Conor and Maverick and I are fine. No, I’m not arguing with Tyche again. Yes, I’m still going to therapy. Else is fine. No new sentient plagues or rogue cult leaders that I’m aware of. Nor have I become immortal, queen of the universe, savior of humanity, pregnant by Noah, or possessed.” Carefully, I picked my chair back up and sat down.

“Good...to… know?” He gave me a funny look. “Who asked the most disturbing one?”

“Immortal or Savior of Humanity?” I asked for clarification. “Those were Maverick and Derek, respectively.”

The look only got worse. “I meant ‘pregnant by Noah’, but fascinating to see where your priorities lie….?”

“Oh. That was Charly.”

“Dammit,” he swore softly. “I had her pegged for ‘possessed’.”

“I’m pretty sure she is, but the suggestion that I am came from Tyche, on no fewer than 3 occasions, by 4 different entities. She seemed pretty hopeful that Else was potentially mind-controlling me in an effort to make me take a nap,” I admitted.

“That tracks.” A nod of approval prefaced the question I had been avoiding - successfully, thus far, I might add. “Now that you’ve ruled out every possible plausible reason that you would entrust this to literally anyone other than a clone of yourself, why?”

“Why what?” My face was composed in an expression of innocence so convincing that I probably deserved an Oscar.

“I can and will convince Charly to turn all your coffee to decaf, so help me, Sophia.”

Realizing that he was, legitimately, worried about me and at the limits of his usually-impressive patience, I held up my hands in surrender. “Fine. You get the scoop.  Please record this and send me the loop, so I can just flick it at people who ask, please?” When he nodded, I exhaled slowly.  “It is no secret to anyone that I never wanted this job. I made the mistake of establishing the Food Festival, which as you point out is the largest event of the cycle on the Ark - the last three years, literally everyone attended in some capacity.” When he opened his mouth to argue, I held up a hand to stop him. “Don’t get me wrong. I love the Festival. What basically started out as a potluck because we were homesick and needed to meet - you know, the rest of humanity - is a huge, three day holiday.  It’s amazing!” I spun in my chair, arms flung wide for emphasis, before stopping to face him. 

“It also consumes my life, for months, to prepare for.  And that’s just implementing changes to make it more accessible so people don’t miss out! That doesn’t include adding things to make it more interesting or keep it from getting boring, or whatever. I literally don’t have time to do any of that!”

“So, you’re inflicting this on them instead?”

“Inflicting?” I snorted.  “Hardly. This is their final exam, their capstone project, their dissertation.  If they pull this off, I will gladly hand the entire office over to whoever is elected, cheerfully and knowing the Ark is in good hands.  But, they have to pull this off.  It’s the only major part of being Councilor of Resources and Relations that they haven’t done yet by themselves.”

He rubbed his face, looking somewhat impressed. “That’s honestly not what I was expecting.”

“I don’t think it ever is, honestly.” I shrugged at the question he glanced towards me. “For Evan, it was coordinating the weapons exhibitions.  Charly managed to pre-empt her own by designing more efficient aqueducts and filtration for when we reach Von - you know, the ones that also produce light?”

“Of course she would invent glow-in-the-dark plumbing. Who else?” Something caught up with him. “Evania Josue got away with planning an event? Seriously?”

“Oh, that’s right… you weren’t on Level One…” I murmured. When he only looked more confused, I clarified. “She was Maverick’s co-pilot when we needed people to pilot the Ark, which was not designed to pilot manually, via dead reckoning, using cameras pointed out the few viewports we have, for several weeks after the sensors were sabotaged.”

“She was whose co-pilot?”

“You really never heard this story? You practically live with seven people who were there…”

“Usually I get the bits about ‘Sophia nearly got her brains bashed out’ and ‘that traitorous bitch’, then start tuning out while I try to decide what it would take to get Charly to teach me necromancy… If Evan was the co-pilot, then why is Maverick….”

“Not in line to replace any Councilors? Arthur, we know that would be a disaster for him.”

He nodded reluctantly. “Your younger partner is a nice boy.”

“For fuck’s sake, he’s thirty seven!” I groaned.

“Nice man, whatever,” he waved off. “Which is exactly what I would like for you as a partner. You need nice partners, and blunt siblings. But I see what you mean about him being a Councilor… he’d be miserable.”

“What was yours?” I asked mischievously, dropping my chin onto my hands.

That earned me a flat stare, until he finally surrendered when I didn’t flinch. “The Twentieth/Early Twenty First History curriculum.”

“Seriously?” That had literally been the first thing he had done when Eino tapped him as a possible successor.

“I didn’t budge on points even he admitted he would have, out of fear of offending people.”

“Which is a fear you very much lack,” I pointed out.

“The truth is the truth. Coating it in sugar only makes it taste worse.” He shrugged nonchalantly before suddenly looking dangerously like he was thinking again. “There’s two of them.”

“Yes, Arthur. Hanna and Paravati are, in fact, two distinct and separate women-type-lady-people.”

“Thank you, Fee, I was well aware.” I suppressed a growl at the nickname - he knew I hated it. “I meant, only one can win the election, smartass.”

“Better to be a smartass than a dumbass,” I muttered.

“Sophia, you are forty five. Please grow up just a hair?”

“Tyche doesn’t want to be HR forever, you know.”

That brought his mind to a visibly screeching halt. “Wait, what?”

“What what?” I asked. “She does it because she is phenomenal at it, but it isn’t her passion.  She only stuck around as long as she did to make sure I didn’t trip over a chair and brain myself while I was at work.  When I’m gone, she’s gone, loser take the spoils.”

He whistled softly before shaking his head. “It’s bizarre to think of you two retiring around the same time I’m just starting the position.”

“I’ll have been a Councilor for a decade when I step down,” I pointed out.  I almost included unless I die first, but that never seemed to be as funny as I thought it was.

“But you aren’t that much older than me,” he sighed dramatically. “Anti-aging technology is frustrating.”

“Annnnd this is a natural extension of your career, with a ten year break thereabouts the middle.”  My grin was so bright it made him scowl before I finally got a begrudging smile.  “Think of it as getting elected head of the school board.”

The groan he let out probably echoed for several levels throughout the ship. I had basically just pointed out that he was becoming that which he most hated.

Or not. He seemed to recover with a gleam in his eye. “Pfft. Dean of Students, at the very least.”

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[quickspinner]

Hi, I kind of have some questions that I’m curious about. Let’s say ML is getting a reboot and you were a writer hired for the show. 1. What would you change? And which episodes would you remove? 2.How would you have written Luka into season 1? 3. How would have made the interactions between Luka and Marinette work? 4. How would you write Lukanette to be endgame?

I feel like this is an essay question on a final exam! 😆 I’m going to have to be general by necessity here or I’d be writing several pages of thesis for weeks. (edit: and even so it is super long and wordy, so just imagine how bad it could have been) 

1. What would I change?

Honestly, I don’t think I would change a lot of the basic premise. I like the show and I like the characters as a whole, but I would definitely tweak a few things in the storytelling approach. 

a) I would remove some of the restrictions they’ve placed on themselves, such as their commitment to each episode being as stand alone as possible. It’s possible to have continuity and still have an episode format where young kids can jump in at any point and understand what’s going on. You can have character growth and consistent timelines without making it so that anyone who misses an episode is lost, and you can have the occasional two-parter episode if you have a heavy point to make. If this ultimately ends up shifting the target audience a little older, then so be it, although I don’t think it’s especially necessary. I feel like one of the show’s big problems is that they’re trying to tell a story that’s outgrown their framework, and it’s something that should have been planned for from the beginning.

b) I would rework their ‘forumula’ of having Marinette make a mistake and then learn from it. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with the idea of ‘each episode should teach a lesson’ but they’re not committed enough to it, and it’s a mistake to think that just because Marinette is the protagonist, she has to be the one making all the mistakes and learning all the lessons. As a result we end up with Marinette suffering for no good reason and apologizing in situations where she did nothing wrong, and the ‘lesson’ she was meant to learn ends up muddled and confusing. It’s okay if not every episode has a lesson. As a parent I don’t ask that every single moment of my children’s entertainment be educational, just that it not be actively harmful, and the current presentation often is thanks to their determination to blame Marinette and the confusing messaging that results. So, follow through with that lesson formula most of the time, but let the appropriate character learn a lesson, and address it more clearly. 

Gamer 2.0 is a perfect example. The worst thing Marinette did was disregard Max’s feelings about the tournament so that she could play with Adrien, and they could have acknowledged that while also having Max learn the lesson that sometimes you have to learn to lose gracefully, and that just because effort isn’t rewarded the way you wanted it to be, it doesn’t mean it was without value. Or Reflekdoll; both Juleka and Alya had lessons to learn about communicating clearly and paying attention to other people’s feelings respectively. 

c) Expanding from that, I’d have the narrative hold people accountable more equitably across the board. A good 90% of my frustration with Adrien/Chat Noir is that the narrative never holds him accountable for his actions (I’m excluding NY here because I have a whole other essay’s worth of Stuff to say on that, but yes, I will acknowledge that it was at least a minimal step forward towards holding him accountable). What I mean by that is, there is never any doubt that Chloe is behaving badly. There is never any doubt that Lila is not a good person. The narrative makes it clear through their presentations, the other characters’ reactions to them, and the consequences of their actions, that the way they behave is not okay.

Likewise, the narrative never fails to condemn Marinette for her mistakes, often through ridicule and humiliation and sometimes by consequences far out of proportion of her actual mistakes. 

Adrien/Chat is never on the receiving end of that. None of the things he does that we’re all so salty about are ever that bad, certainly no worse than many other characters. However, he’s never held to account for it. There’s never any apology, and rarely any consequences. Copycat is maybe the closest episode to holding Chat accountable, but even so there’s no acknowledgement or apology required for Chat himself. Because, as per point b above, Marinette is the one who makes mistakes and learns lessons and so it’s her mistakes that we focus on. I was utterly shocked in Frozer when he leaned forward and told her to use her lucky charm instead of saying “hey, sorry I ran off and left you to face the villain alone, which might have gotten you seriously hurt if I hadn’t happened along in the nick of time.” It wasn’t fair of him to be upset with Ladybug in Siren when she agreed to do what she could to get Fu to fill him in (and followed through) but there was no apology for that either. He was right to be upset but he was mad at the wrong person, and at the end of the day he got what he wanted without actually having to admit that he did anything wrong or unfair, and that’s frustrating. Glaciator came close, when he graciously accepted Ladybug’s rejection, but there was no change after that to drive it home (and he wasn’t held accountable for lying to his friends to ditch their ice cream plan either). Again, none of these things individually make him a bad person or a horrible character, but it’s grating to see him constantly let off the hook, usually with Marinette having to take responsibility instead.

Not only Chat, but Alya as well, and we’ve actually seen Nino do some apologizing so that’s a positive start. Get past the idea that Marinette is the only one who can make mistakes and learn a lesson; the kids will learn it just as well from someone else. Go watch some 80′s cartoons, geeze, they were masters of the morality-based narrative. 

Let us see Chat (and others) apologize and then (per point a) improve his behavior, maybe getting upset and caught up in his feelings again but this time recognizing that they have a job to do first. Let everybody grow, instead of pounding on Marinette again and again and again. 

d) More time with the side characters. I don’t know how I’d manage it tbh, half an hour is not a lot of time, but I would love to see more of the friendships and especially the art club. Perhaps if the show were less focused on making Marinette the lesson of every episode, there would be more time for the other characters to grow and learn and be explored.

Which episodes would you remove?

I don’t think there are any episodes that I would remove...maybe Party Crasher because that episode was just...weird...but I did like the friendship aspect of it (this is one of those ones where their formula gets muddy and confusing, because...”don’t tell lies and make crappy excuses to your friends” is really what we were supposed to get from that? So, I don’t know if that episode was salvageable. Almost all the other episodes that really give me cringe (hello, Puppeteer 2) contained important moments that could have been delivered in a less upsetting matter if the points above were addressed. Stormy Weather 2 was pretty pointless, but it wouldn’t have been if there had been any actual continuity for a clip show to catch you up on. (while we were chatting today @verfound made a great point though about how Puppeteer 2 could have been used as a clip show as they walked through the wax museum, and I had to agree that would have been much more effective).

2.How would you have written Luka into season 1?

I honestly don’t think I would have? I think he came in at right about the right time. I would have maybe given him a cameo in Reflekta just to set up Captain Hardrock a little more, but other than that, I don’t think it was time for him to come on the scene yet.

3. How would have made the interactions between Luka and Marinette work?

I actually really like how things are now. I would like to see Marinette be more direct and honest with him. Right now, Luka consistently arranges everything so that she never has to admit anything she isn’t ready for. He addresses her feelings without her ever having to bring them up, admit to them, or voice them on her own, and while that’s very kind and I feel like both Luka’s perceptiveness and his kindness and desire to make her comfortable are very central to his character, I would like Marinette tp at some point acknowledge his feelings and her own to his face. Right now their relationship has a level of honesty that I feel like is lacking in most of the others, but it’s mainly due to Luka’s perceptiveness and willingness to be honest himself than it does with anything Marinette’s done, so I’d like to see her exhibit a little more agency there. 

4. How would you write Lukanette to be endgame?

Ooof...I mean, I feel like I addressed some possibilities for that in Finding Harmony and in Second Chance. Marinette has to get over her feelings for Adrien, either by recognizing that she’s just ready to let go (Finding Harmony), dating him and letting the relationship come to a natural end (Second Chance), or confessing her feelings to him and being rejected so that she can get through the heartbreak and move on. The push-and-pull situation the show has her in right now was sustainable for a while, and for seasons one and two it felt like there was some growth there so her constant flailing didn’t seem totally useless. It seemed like she was getting closer to telling him, like she was getting more comfortable with him over time, like there was still the possibility of him liking her back. Up through Despair Bear I was on board with the Adrien is oblivious/in denial of his feelings theory and all was well. 

But as he continued to choose Kagami over Marinette over and over then Marinette’s flailing began to be more pathetic and hopeless, and I became less willing to believe that Adrien had any real feelings for Marinette beyond friendship, and that’s where the ‘Whatever chance there was, I think I missed it’ conversation in Finding Harmony came from. There was a moment where maybe if she had been able to confess they could have been something, but she didn’t, and the moment has passed and now she has to move on.

So yeah, to me there has to be a breaking point of some kind that gives Marinette that push to start making an effort to get over her feelings (Puppeteer 2 would have been the perfect place for it, and I think it was after that episode that I actually started writing Finding Harmony). She’d have to put in effort, it would be hard, and she would do everything she was attempting to do in the NY special and more, and it would take time and support and it would hurt. There’d be Lukanette comfort and support just like there has been up until now, but they wouldn’t date until Marinette reached a point where she really felt free. 

Second Chance was more along the lines of what I expected to actually happen, in that Marinette and Adrien would get together for a while, and then post series there would be a breakup and a reunion with Luka where they rekindle their feelings. 

I haven’t written a fic where Marinette confesses and is rejected because I just don’t want to deal in that kind of pain. But, Miracle Queen is honestly an acceptable substitute, where she sees Adrien’s budding relationship with someone else and resigns herself to it and commits to moving on. I just would want season 4 to pick up at that point, and move her through that difficult time of trying to break all those old habits, trying to find a way to be his friend without indulging in ways that are unhealthy for her (like long tight hugs and sniffing his cologne). I don’t think rushing straight into another relationship is a healthy answer for either Marinette or Luka. This is something Marinette has to work through, and Luka can support her, but she has to do the work herself. 

So that’s my off-the-cuff, didn’t study, winging it exam answer. Hope it satisfies some of your curiosity!

[jubans]

title: pinky promise pairing: chigasaki itaru/fem!reader rating: g (general) premise: promises were made to be kept, but damn did itaru have a sharp memory.

Back when you were still a kid, you had a peculiar friend.

Your fathers were best buddies in college and your mothers got along just as swimmingly as well. Whenever either couple would go out of town, the other would follow suit—both parties bringing along their young kids so they could bond with one another. 

Itaru was a quiet boy. The first time you met him, he was like a hermit that couldn't be coaxed out of his shell. Eventually, you gave up on trying to get him to play house with you; retreating to the living room with a gaming console in hand. You've been wanting a Gameboy for a while now, and your father did love spoiling his little girl. While you were in the middle of catching your first Pokémon, however, you noticed that Itaru was watching you play over your shoulder, interest sparkling in his pretty eyes.

"Itaru-kun, do you play Pokémon?" you wondered, hoping he'd finally open up to you.

The young boy nodded timidly. "My Gameboy is in my backpack..."

And that's how you started growing closer than you'd initially expected. You challenged him in Pokémon battles every chance you got, but Itaru defeated you every single time. Something about IVs and EVs, he said. But you didn't really care about those. You just wanted the pretty looking Pokémon on your team. 

In your usual outings with his family, Itaru would often play off-handed pranks on you—putting weird bugs he found behind your dress, spitting watermelon seeds at you, and even pushing you into a shallow part of a lake. But despite his outlandish behavior, you didn't cry about it like most girls your age would when a boy was being mean to them. You returned his mischief sevenfold in your own way, and that only made your parents think what a lively duo the both of you were.

But like most childhood friendships, it didn't last as long as you'd liked. 

With your father having gotten an opportunity to work in America, that meant you had to move residences. The news was hard to take in at first. You grew up in Japan. All your friends were here! And what will happen to Itaru when you were no longer there to keep him in check? But, you've always been more understanding than most children. You accepted it faster than your parents had anticipated.

One day, you decided to tell your him about your sudden moving-away with a proposition that would ensure he wouldn't step out of line while you weren't around. 

"We're going to get married someday, right Taruchi?" 

Itaru blinked at you in nonplus, surprised by the strange nickname. "Taru...chi?"

"Itaru Chigasaki!" You giggled, clapping your hands together in unhinged glee. "It's my nickname for you, so no one else is allowed to call you that, 'kay?"

He spared you a small smile. Even at a young age, he already looked breathtaking. Eyes of carnelian and hair spun from almonds and vanilla—there was no reason for you not to crush on the boy who lived the next door over. 

But then, he did something you've never seen anyone else do with you before. He held out his hand, holding up only his pinky, as he gazed at you expectantly. You craned your head to the side, not knowing how to react. Itaru laughed softly before taking your small hands in his own, manipulating your right hand's fingers so that you were doing the same gesture he was.

"We'll pinky promise on it," he said, entwining his stubby finger with yours. "It's a promise that we can never ever break. No matter what."

"You promise to marry me when I get back?" you asked, curling your own pinky as well. 

He snickered. "I'd hate to be stuck with an old hag like you, but if you insist..."

"Hmph!" you simpered, folding your arms across your chest as you turned away from him. "I'm only eight, Taruchi!" 

"You'll be eight-y when you return," he retaliated. 

You spent the afternoon trying to beat Itaru in another Pokémon battle, but he came out victorious as usual. Just before you could start up another match, however, his mother told the two of you that they'll be attending an event hosted by the company she works for, and that you could come back and play tomorrow again. 

"See you soon, old hag," Itaru imparted, waving a hand goodbye as you stuck out your tongue to blow a raspberry at him. 

Stupid Taruchi. Why do I even like you?

"Mom, was it really necessary for me to fly back to Japan for this?" you groaned into your cellphone, asking the question for the hundredth time. 

Your mother merely tutted at you from the other end of the line. "You know how much your father loved the MANKAI Company, sweetie. We even flew here a week early so he could take a peek at the final rehearsals." 

"Yes, I know that part of the story," you sighed as you slowly unpacked your things from the single duffel you brought. "But why do I have to tag along? I had to find a substitute for all my classes this week, and I think the head professor will give me a piece of her mind when I get back to California."

"I'll have your father talk to her, then." The sound of her laughter was jeering in your ears. Why your mother had always been so carefree was a mystery to you. "Unwind a little, sweetie! I think you're going to want to see one of the new Spring Troupe's actors."

"What?" Your tone came out exasperated, but at the same time, your eyes were trained on the ample view of Veludo Way from your hotel room.

Your father used to be one of the members of the original Spring Troupe back when you were still a kid. Though he was one of the most academically proficient professors you knew today, he always had an unbridled passion for theatric arts. But with how swamped he's become with his work at the university you both teach in, him flying to Japan to watch amateurs stage a production was the last thing you think he would do.

Lost in thought, you didn't realize that your mother had been telling you something over the phone. 

"Anyways, if you want to see him, I got us tickets for the closing night this Saturday." Your mother sounded disappointed for some reason. "The earlier showing dates sold out by the time we bought them."

You didn't even bother finding out who this so-called actor she was pertaining to, your mind too preoccupied with the lesson plans you forgot to leave to your substitute. With an exasperated groan, you pulled out your laptop from your luggage, booting it up. You loved your mother too much to point out that she could have just told you to fly over here at a later date so you could minimize your absences. 

"Sure, Mom," you relented. "Do you want to grab some dinner later?"

"No way."

Eyes of carnelian. Hair spun from almonds and vanilla.

"No. Way." You had to physically look away from the stage to contemplate for a moment. Was that... Was that who you thought it was?

From your right, your father spared you a sideways glance, confusion painting his features. "Hm? Something the matter?" 

It's him. The boy with the pretty eyes and the smile that masked his mischief. Itaru. Taruchi. 

"I-It's nothing, Dad," you reassured, forcing yourself to train your eyes on the scene playing before you. "I just remembered I haven't started formatting my midterm exam yet."

"Oh, don't fret about work here," he chuckled, gaze trained fondly on the stage. "Plays are where the actors give it their all to put a smile on people's faces. I've always wanted to see you up on stage, but what kind of father would I be if I imposed something you didn't want?"

His words made you relax back into your seat, watching as Itaru's character, Tybalt, conversed with one of the leads on-stage. He delivered his lines so naturally, like the character was moulded to fit him in particular. He looked so...different now, too. Itaru had lost the fat in his cheeks—angular cheekbones taking its place instead. His voice was set into a much deeper tone, given that he was probably in his mid-twenties, just like yourself. Who knew a gamer shut-in like himself would pursue theater, of all things?

"It's nice to see good old Chigasaki's son up there, though." Your father smiled. "That kid was almost like a son to me."

The scenes breezed past before your eyes, each one leaving you at the edge of your seat. Their twist on Romeo and Juliet was comical, to say the least. But each time Itaru stepped under the spotlights, you noticed the strain in his movements. Whenever he had to walk to the opposite side of the stage, his steps came off a bit wobbly. This was a critical scene where Romeo and Tybalt were going to duel to the death, too. 

When you spared your father a wary look, the set in his brow told you that there was definitely something up. 

"Boy's got a sprain," he concluded. "Goodness. He should've known better than to perform with that dead weight dragging him around."

You frowned. "Then Taruchi, I mean, Itaru should—"

"Tybalt, stop! The battle's over!"

Romeo's little ad-lib caught the attention of the audience, no one daring to draw a breath to see how things played out. 

"Lower your blade!" he shouted, voice carrying the emotion in his eyes.

Even Itaru was taken aback by Romeo's resolve. His mouth twitched into a smirk that reminded you of the days he would show you the stag beetles he's caught over the summer to freak you out. You haven't even said two words to him fifteen years later, but somehow, you knew that he hadn't changed. Not one bit. 

"(Surname)-san, hello!"

A woman that seemed right about your age greeted your father with a shake of hands once the two of you arrived backstage. Your mother had insisted that she would wait for the two of you at the parking lot as you gave your congratulations to the actors. So here you were, standing awkwardly behind your father as he animatedly conversed with the said woman, who seemed to be the director of the show.

"Kid, as much as I'd like to tell you about your dad, it isn't my place to tell," your father chuckled. 

She sighed. "Ah, that's what Yuzo-san told me, too..."

"Say, this is quite out of the blue, but my daughter here wants to have a word with one of your actors. Itaru, to be precise."

Wait, what?

"Oh, sure!" The director nodded, twisting the knob to the dressing room behind her before you could even protest. "Itaru-san, someone wants to talk to you!" 

"Oho? Itaru-san has stans?"

"Fans. But you're not too far off, huh, Citron?"

"Wah! Itaru-san is so popular!"

"Tch. As long as it's not her, I won't complain..."

The sound of cheerful laughter hit your ears, and the next thing you knew, he emerged from the doorway—still in costume without a single hair out of place. Itaru grew up to look like one of the princes in the fairytales your mother used to read to you, and it grated on your nerves more than it should. How could the kid with the most rotten attitude you've seen be blessed with a growth spurt like this?!

Too busy wallowing in your own frustration, it took you a moment to register the utter shock on Itaru's face once his vibrant eyes landed on your father. But when his gaze shifted to you, his lips parted in muted surprise before spreading into a disbelieving smile.

"So you finally thought about coming back, huh, old hag?"

Before you could even think, you seized the collar of his costume with your fist, familiar irritation festering in your chest faster than you could blink. "It's the first time we meet in fifteen years and that's your opening line?"

Itaru hollered loudly at your aggression, but the gesture didn't even faze him one bit. Maybe it was because he stood about a few inches taller than you now. Nonetheless, he held your hands in his own—holy shit they were smooth—before prying off your hard grip on his clothes.

"Ah, Izumi!" your father called out to the director. "I want to discuss something about the MANKAI Company and how I might be able to pitch in. Itaru-kun, you can keep her occupied for the time being, right?"

"What? Dad, don't leave me with hi—"

"She's in my care," Itaru spoke over you, a gloved hand going up to ruffle your hair. 

As you watched your father and the director disappear right down the corridor, you gulped when you felt Itaru's piercing gaze on you. Turning around, you saw that his lips were still affixed with a condescending smirk, like he had some dirt on you that you didn't know about. Slowly, you backed away from him, but the hallway was cramped and you ended up with you in between the wall and the man in front of you.

"So," he began before he braced his palms on either side of the wall, trapping you in place. How could someone who had the regal air of a prince look at you like a wolf in sheep's clothing?

You felt your heart racing hummingbird-fast in your chest, breath hitching when he leaned in to ask:

"When's the wedding?"

[kim-seungmine]

dream the night away

title: dream the night away

characters: (fem) reader x hwang hyunjin of stray kids

genre: slice-of-life, romance, angst, best friends to lovers au, idol au, idol!hyunjin, hyunjin centric, inspired by 3racha’s cloud 9 but not really?

warnings: minor character death, sometimes heavy, slow burn (aka i wanted it to be but i wasn’t patient enough), i tried to proofread, i gave up trying to format text convo on tumblr, i think they kiss a lot.

word count: 11.6k i’m so sorry

synopsis: one night, hyunjin wonders how he long can stay floating on cloud 9 before he loses his balance and falls all the way down to the pits of hell. After that, nothing feels right.

disclaimer: this is idol!hyunjin so i just wanna say that this is not how hyunjin is in real life and im not trying to convince you that he feels the things in the story. some parts are inspired by the things they’ve said but everything that happens here is pure fiction... which actually goes without saying since this is a fanfic, but i just feel the need to say it. for my personal long ass author’s note, you can read it below.

Hyunjin is met with darkness when he steps into the dorm. It used to be more packed, it used to be messier, and it used to be really loud. Now he only shares the dorm with the 00z who are surprisingly quiet if you think about it. Seungmin sleeps early, Felix has his headphones stuck to his ears and plays games until the sun rises, and Jisung is snugged somewhere watching movies. On busier days, Seungmin and Felix are at the company for lessons and Jisung spends the night at the studio with Chan and Changbin. Hyunjin, meanwhile, usually has some photoshoots.

However, tonight feels unnaturally quiet, especially since Hyunjin has just won his first Bonsang as a solo artist. He switches the lights on, and his friends are soundlessly huddled together by the fridge, Jisung holding a small cake.

“Surprise!” Seungmin exclaims rather flatly as Hyunjin drops to the floor out of shock, shouting profanities. Felix proceeds to grab some candles from the kitchen counter and lights them up. “Come on, blow the candles."

Hyunjin lets out an amused sigh, rising to his feet before blowing all the candles out. “Please tell me these aren’t those candles that stay lit n—what the hell.”

He continues blowing, his friends giggling while Seungmin groans. “Why did you have to curse? I was about to post that on Instagram Story!”

“Why are we doing this anyways? We’re not 18 anymore,” Hyunjin protests half-heartedly. He can’t really remember the last time they gave each other a proper surprise. It feels like ages ago. Jisung scoffs, searching for a knife inside one of the kitchen drawers. Slicing the cake, he retorts, “Your dramatic ass loves surprises, stop denying it.”

“Anyone has anything to do tonight? The hyungs want to come over,” Felix informs while typing on his phone. Hyunjin’s vibrates after a few seconds; everyone on the Stray Kids group chat must be congratulating him.

Seungmin opens the chat, frowning. “Where’s Jeongin?”

“He hasn’t been replying since hours ago. That brat probably fell asleep. Just ask his bro if he’s home,” Hyunjin suggests, about to reply to Chan’s message when another message pops up.

y/n: sorry i couldnt watch the show

y/n: but i saw the news! congratulations!!

y/n: so proud of you, as always!

Hyunjin’s eyes light up at your messages. It’s been months since he saw you; he’s been busy with his solo debut and you’ve been busy with school. When both of you were children, you often pictured how life would be. Hyunjin would be a famous soccer player for Manchester United and the captain of South Korea national team. You would be studying to become a doctor.

He finds it funny that you’re doing the exact same thing while he’s doing something he never even imagined before. Hyunjin is always amazed at how well you planned your whole life and executed every single plan, albeit not always instantly.

After all these years, though, he dares to say that both of you turned out okay. Amazing, even.

“Order whatever you want. I’m eating outside but I’ll be back soon,” Hyunjin tells his friends, bombarding you with messages before you turn your phone off, the thing you always do when you’re about to cram.

Seungmin arches an eyebrow. “Y/N?”

“Yeah. I asked whether she wants to eat gopchang with me.”

“You should really be careful.”

“Everyone knows we’re best friends. No one will make a weird rumor or anything.”

Jisung clicks his tongue. “Well, do you?”

Whenever someone talks about you, it always leads to this very conversation. Hyunjin decides to let Jisung’s question (sarcasm) hang in the air, but he knows the answer. Yes, he knows you and him are just best friends. Does he like it that way?

Hyunjin knows the answer to that too. He only pretends that he doesn’t.

You’re already slurping your soup when Hyunjin says hi to the restaurant owners, Mr and Mrs. Jang. “Oh Hyunjinnie, I just watched you on TV. You won something, right?” he asks. His wife ushers him to sit down, putting extra servings of kimchi on the table.

“Why didn’t I get extra kimchi?” You pout, shooting a jealous glare at Hyunjin who’s busy explaining what a Bonsang is to the owners.

“You did a good job, then,” Mrs. Jang coos. “You don’t need to pay today. It’s on us!”

You quickly put your spoon down. “What about me? I barely sleep thesedays, and I’m not as rich as Hyunjin!”

“Aigoo, you started eating before your friend came then demand for free food. You’re lucky we love you as much as we love Hyunjin.”

The couple laugh at your reaction, jokingly scolding you for being whinier than Hyunjin when it used to be the other way around. He smiles, remembering all the times he forced you to eat his eggplants for him and the times when he begged you to help him study because he needed to beat all of his friends.

“Eat,” you scowl. “You only have half an hour to brag. I have a night shift.”

Out of the times you’re being petty towards him, you were only seriously petty once: when he beat your English score in ninth grade although you were the one teaching him. He had to bribe you with a week’s worth of Haribo jellies before you stopped ignoring him.

Hyunjin giggles. “When’s your exam? Tomorrow?”

“Next week,” you whine. “But I have so many things to do! And I think someone stole my notes, I can’t seem to find them anywhere. Do you even understand half the pain I’m going through right now? All I need is one solid hour of sleep.”

“Hmm,” he hums. “Tell me something I don’t know.”

You widen your eyes, eyeing Hyunjin from head to toe. “Sometimes I forget you’re Stray Kids’ Hyunjin.”

He pretends to stab himself on the chest. “That h-hurts,” he fake-groans. “Then who do you think I am?”

“My neighbor,” you answer. “—who doesn’t even live at home anymore.”

“To be fair, you’re practically holed in hospital now.”

“Yeah but I go home every two weeks? You go home twice a year.”

“Excuse me?! I went home on your birthday… in the middle of a tour! I could’ve been sleeping or practicing, but I came home!”

He always “argues” with you until both of you are out of breath, clutching your chests because it somehow feels hilarious. You drink the last few drops of the soup right from your bowl, setting it back on the table and empty your glass in one go.

“I don’t have enough energy for this,” you sigh dreamily, prepping your head on your arm. “Tell me about everything. Your first Bonsang.”

Hyunjin can still hear his fans’ voices chanting his name and cheering for him as he delivered his speech while sobbing (this is what he hates from solo promotions, nobody else is there to stop him from crying or taking over the mic from him so he could calm himself down). He remembers every single word he said and the proud faces of his fellow artists. The thrill, the triumph, the satisfaction, the love… it’s making him emotional all over again.

He grabs a tissue to blow his nose. “I was surprised when the company said that I was invited. Our group hasn’t made a comeback this year, and although my song did chart quite well, I never expected they would even invite me.”

“They gave me a 5-minute stage! I was so happy, I sent you my rehearsal videos, right?”

You nod, imitating one of the moves in his dance break.

“Everything was even more amazing on stage, with Stays watching me. I think I was possessed during the performance… I was goddamn nervous though.”

“Yeah, I watched it on the way here. You kept licking your lip, I don’t care if your fans think that’s hot. To me you’re just a nervous mess…”

Hyunjin has started to pout when you add, “… who did a very great job nevertheless! It’s just that I’ve known you so long. You can’t hide anything from me.”

He notices how you’re holding your breath, waiting for him to respond. After years, Hyunjin thought he would take negative comments much less seriously, but apparently it didn’t become easier. It became harder, so hard that he had to take a 3-month hiatus last year.

With you, everything is different. You can tell him that he sucks big time and he’ll take it seriously, but he never gets offended. There are a lot of times when people treat him like he’s made of glass (or a snowflake, Seungmin once said), but you treat him the way you’ve always treated him and he loves it. None of his other friends understands, but your honesty is priceless. It’s what keeps him going; he knows you’ll never cherish him less no matter what you say about the way he dances and raps, or the way he looks and behaves. And he’s sure that his honesty also means the world to you. You are each other’s toughest critic, but it will never change anything.

“Hyunjin.” You place your hand over his, eyes wide. “I’m sorry. It just slipped out of my mouth.”

He chuckles, flipping his palm to squeeze your hand. “You idiot. You just stated the facts.”

You squeeze his hand back before pulling away. “I’m looking at Hwang Hyunjin of Stray Kids who sold over 100.000 copies of his first solo album, who won Bonsang for the first time, who gets worshiped by everyone he locks eyes with—except for me of course. I’m a very proud friend.”

“Stop it.” Hyunjin rolls his eyes, but unable to hide his smile once he sees you grinning like a happy child. “How much time do we have left?”

You glance at your phone, sighing when a reminder for you to study pops up. “5 minutes. I have to go back to the hospital soon.”

“Can you even study during your shift?”

“I have to,” you mumble. “Anyways, thanks for dragging me out. I did miss you after all.”

“I missed you too,” Hyunjin says, probably too quick for his own good but he doesn’t regret it.

“I’ll be going now.” You stretch your limbs, grabbing your bag and slinging it over your shoulder. “Any last words before I go to war?”

“I should be the one asking you that.”

“Oh, right.”

Chan is the only one awake by the time Hyunjin gets back home. He huffs in regret, knowing that the hyungs decided to stay over to celebrate his Bonsang win. The leader greets him with a bear hug, carefully avoiding Felix and Minho who are fast asleep on the floor. “We’re so happy for you!” he whisper-yells. “How was Y/N?”

Hyunjin returns his hug with an even tighter one. “Thanks hyung. You composed the song after all! And sorry I came back too late.”

Chan shakes his head. “Nah, it’s fine. At some point we forgot why we were here and just started playing mafia.”

“Y/N is fine, anyways, just tired.”

“She’s always tired, isn’t she?”

“Yeah. It turns out that medical students are probably more tired than us.”

Hyunjin leads Chan to his bedroom. Each of the 00z has their own bedroom now. It’s much more convenient and they can arrange their stuff however they want to (they avoid entering Jisung’s room as much as possible), but Hyunjin misses the mess at times. The old dorm was cramped, either too hot or too cold, and way too noisy, but it was home for quite a long time.

Chan seems to be having the same thought. “We miss you kiddos sometimes,” he laughs. “But we fixed that sliding door. It closes properly now.”

“As long as Changbin hyung keeps opening it with too much force it will be broken again in no time. Trust me.”

Both of them are lying on Hyunjin’s king size bed, staring at the sideboard table he dedicates for his music show—and now, music award—trophies. “The kids don’t really say it but they’re all so proud of you. I’m proud of you. I raised you well, didn’t I?”

“Yeah, you kinda did.”

“Kinda?!”

“I’m joking.” Hyunjin scrunches his nose. “You raised all of us. We raised Jeongin. And we raised each other.”

“3racha are almost finished choosing the final songs, you have 2 weeks to relax then we’ll start production right away. Our next tour won’t start until May, so we have plenty of time to prepare everything.”

“Ohhhhh I can feel my bones breaking already. We’re getting old,” Hyunjin whines.

Chan pats his thighs, cracking his knuckles before jumping out of bed. “You’re getting old,” he teases.

“I’m glad, though. Everything finally works out the way we wanted to. I guess we can say that we’re doing well now, right?”

Chan doesn’t wait for Hyunjin to answer and leaves the room right away. The latter ponders the rhetorical question for a while, recalling the goals they have reached for the past few years. Entering the Melon chart (and staying on Top 20 for a week), having one of the most successful world tour, winning prestigious awards at prestigious music awards, 3racha getting acknowledged as the industry’s top composers, 00z winning music shows for their unit debut last year, Jeongin getting drama roles, and last but not least, Hyunjin’s successful solo debut.

Feeling nostalgic, he scrolls through his phone, looking at old photos and silly videos. Looking at the lyrics he wrote on his note app. Then he goes through @realstraykids’ posts on Instagram, from when Jeongin still had braces until tonight. The latest selcas on his own official account are still getting likes, the fans showering him with praises.

Hyunjin has ticked off everything from his wish list. He has reached every goal he set a few years ago. They are doing well. He’s doing well.

He looks at his surroundings, immersing himself in the space and peace of his room that he once craved desperately. He’s supposed to be at peace now, but his mind won’t stop buzzing, asking himself what to do next.

For the very first time, Hyunjin realizes that he’s now floating on Cloud 9. Everything is perfect, he’s living his dream life. But at the back of his head, he can hear the clock ticking, ready to push him over the edge the moment he loses his balance, watching him fall all the way to the pits of hell.

Everything is perfect, but why does his heart feel so empty?

Hyunjin’s brows furrow as he tries to catch some comments the fans are posting. When he was a rookie he couldn’t get used to how fast the comments come in, and it’s something that doesn’t quite change. Probably he got used to it at some point, but they kept gaining fans that the comment section is always extremely active.

“Hyunjin oppa,” he pronounces the words slowly. ”Spo-spoiler please!”

He lifts his head to give the viewers a secretive smile. “Nope.” He wiggles his forefinger. “You have to wait for the teasers!”

“Ohhh the comments! You guys are so excited I can’t keep up!”

More comments flood in, and Hyunjin has to press his phone screen in order to read the one comment he’s been trying to read. “Recommend me a song, please!”

“Uhhh—” He takes some time to think of the songs he’s been listening to, tapping his fingers against the surface of the table while the comments keep coming in, but this time he spots words that stab him right on his gut. With trembling hands, he lifts his phone, clicking the report button as subtle as possible. His vision grows blurry as he reports every single comment that has the word “fuck you”, “die” or “talentless” in it.

The pause has become too long and too awkward, so he stops himself from reporting more and stares at the lens. “Ah, song recommendation!” he exclaims. “I have quite a lot but thesedays I’ve been listening to 00z songs a lot. We had so much fun promoting together.”

Hyunjin feels his other phone vibrating in his pocket, probably his mother checking in. It gives him a boost of energy, and he tells his fans he’ll stay with them for 10 more minutes. “When we’re just talking like this, I’m always reminded that we’ve come so far,” Hyunjin says, a smile on his face. “It feels good to know that all of you are making time for us, for me, after your busy day. And no, I’m not sleepy. Don’t worry, everyone!”

He reads some more comments, mostly cheesy pickup lines to cheer himself up as his brain is still trying to get all the hurtful words out of his system. “Ah, I think I have to go now,” Hyunjin announces lowly. “I have to go back to practice, if not Chan hyung will barge in and drag me back to the practice room.”

“What? You want me to get scolded by Chan hyung? Why are you so mean?!”

Hyunjin ends up staying for 20 more minutes before finally ending the broadcast. Conversation with his fans is something he values a lot; it gives him strength and makes him laugh. It makes him feel loved and he wants his fans to feel the same.

But it’s equally tiring. He has to brace himself for some less-than-nice comments, sometimes they are way too severe for him to handle that the company sues all the commenters. You’ve told him over and over again that those people aren’t his fans.

Everything could’ve been worse. Hyunjin still considers himself very lucky that he has much more fans than haters. Still, he often imagines how it will feel if he has no hater at all, since he does have some friends who seem to only hear pretty words.

Hyunjin stays inside the room for a few more minutes, replying to Seungmin’s messages and assures him that he’ll be back soon. He idly plays one of their songs he hasn’t heard for years, the song that was always included in their setlist before being replaced by some other songs. Hyunjin initially thought he wouldn’t need that song anymore, but tonight, he needs it. Maybe he needs it more now than before.

After making a mental note to ask the other boys to add the song back to the concert’s setlist, Hyunjin leaves, cursing himself for taking too much time to regain his composure.

Should I stop or not? Should I give up or not?

“Hwang Hyunjin, stop coming into my room without my permission! You literally trespassed into someone else’s property!”

Hyunjin groans into his pillow, instantly regretting his decision to pick up your call at midnight. “I didn’t!”

“Don’t lie to me. You took Gureum with you!”

He takes a quick glance at the rabbit plushie he placed on top of his pillow. Last night, he did go home because Kkami (everyone calls him old man now) got a little sick. “I miiiiight have made a quick detour next door when I was about to leave.”

“You’re pathetic. You got soooooo many plushies and toys and cute headbands from fansigns and you stole my Gureum.”

“Stop guilt tripping me! I missed Gureum, okay? Why didn’t you take him to your dorm?”

Hyunjin senses your hesitation as you clear your throat. “Well, sometimes seeing Gureum only makes me miss everyone more, so I just left him at home.”

Now he feels guilty. Your parents are currently staying overseas to take care of your sick little sister. He pictures you coming to an empty home every two weeks, exhausted and not having anyone to welcome you.

“Do you want me to come over?”

“Our superstar isn’t busy?”

“I am, but I’m willing to sacrifice my precious time for my best friend.”

You scoff over the phone, but telling him to hurry up before ending the call. Hyunjin packs his clothes and toiletries, along with Gureum—his birthday present for your 11th birthday. You almost never sleep without it, yet the plushie still looks brand new.

Unable to hide his smitten smile, Hyunjin grabs his keys.

The apartment complex where Hyunjin lives has changed a lot over the years. The soccer field he used to play at is now a playground. The little bookstore you loved so much is now a bakery. Now there’s a big shopping mall right across the building. After saving up for a while, Hyunjin asked his parents whether they wanted to move to a bigger place. He kind of hoped that they wouldn’t want it because he wanted to stay close to you (although coming home is a real challenge for him). Luckily, his parents said no.

He enters your door password leisurely, recalling the time when your parents told him to take care of you.

So far, you’ve been the one taking care of him.

Hyunjin heads straight to your bedroom, opening the door and sees you curling on your bed. The mattress he sleeps on whenever he stays over is already laid on the floor.

“Gureum!” you yell when he throws the squishy rabbit to you. Hyunjin drops his bag and settles himself on the mattress, staring up at you.

“How’s your sis?”

You scoot towards the end of the bed, showing him a photo on your phone. Your sister is smiling; she looks much better than before, but still very pale and thin. “I haven’t called her,” Hyunjin admits. “But she got the albums I sent to her. Sent the ones signed by the others too. That kid loves Jisung, do you know that?”

“I got her into Jisung.”

He sits up, looking almost offended. “Your bias is Han Jisung?”

“This world doesn’t revolve around you, superstar.” You flash him a cheeky grin. “I wanted to ask you to let me go to the backstage again last tour, but I restrained myself. As your kind best friend, I shouldn’t abuse my privilege.”

“You know that he never cleans his room, right?”

You hum, “Nobody’s perfect, Jinnie.”

“Oh come on!” Hyunjin protests. “If it’s Jeongin I understand although he also never cleans his room. But Jisung? And you’re calling yourself my best friend!”

“He’s funny!” you argue. ”He has a nice voice—it’s really sexy when he raps, he dances well, he wrote all my favorite Stray Kids songs, and he actually had the balls to fight you. A real champ.”

Hyunjin rolls his eyes, making a gesture to snatch Gureum away from you. “And at the end of the day, you love him,” you add. “He makes you laugh too.”

Well, it’s a fact he can’t refute. You ask, “Do you think I should hit on him or something? Will people call me out? Does he have someone?”

“We are not having this conversation Y/N. I don’t care if both of you are my best friends, you’re not dating Han Jisung. What happened to that ‘hot senior’ Jung Jaehyun? The last time we called, you were so in love with him.”

The mention of Jaehyun’s name causes you to slump into your bed, covering yourself with your thick blanket. “I sort of blew it up,” you mumble. “He asked me on a real date and I said no.”

You seem to hit realization that’s way too late, and now you’re hollering, “I said no to Jung Jaehyun! Oh my God Hyunjin… I’m such an idiot!”

Hyunjin can’t contain his giggles. Relief washes over him; you and Jaehyun seemed rather serious and while he wished you well, the thought of you being with someone else always pains him. He knows he’s not allowed to feel that way just because you’re best friends.

Most of the times, he can’t help it.

“He’s a real gentleman and he said he was into me. ME. Everyone would throw themselves at him but he came up to me and I flat out rejected him. What the hell is wrong with me?!”

You’re rolling on your bed, whining and kicking at the air. “I tried not to think about it but… it was just a date? Even if I didn’t end up dating him at least I could tell my grandchildren that I went on a date with Jung Jaehyun!”

“Is he really that great?” Hyunjin asks, out of curiosity but laced with jealousy he hopes you can’t see. His words sound distant to his own ears, triggering his fear of losing you.

“Yeah, I guess?”

You nudge his legs when he doesn’t respond. “How about you? Everything���s fine? You don’t look happy thesedays.”

Hyunjin never lies to you. You have a full access to his heart; he lets you in on his happiest days when life feels like the shiniest summer. He also lets you in even after the messiest thunderstorm when he feels that everything is fucked up. This time, he wants to lock you out. There’s nothing to see, there’s nothing to fix.

His heart is empty—he is empty, and he wants to protect you from the bleakness of it.

“I’m fine, just been arguing with Felix and Minho hyung over the song we’ll perform. It feels too monotone for me, but they think it’s perfect,” he explains, not completely lying. “I don’t know if I’m being selfish but somehow I just can’t let it go.”

“Have you tried explaining to them? Not how you feel, but how the song is. You can always go technical, you don’t need to worry just because Minho is more experienced.”

Hyunjin sighs. “I did, but probably it’s just me.”

“Do you wanna talk things out?” You yawn, squishing Gureum into your chest. “Or do you want to just sleep?”

He glances at the clock. “We both need sleep. It’s almost 3A.M.”

“Alright. Good night—I mean good morning!”

Hyunjin stretches his neck to look at you, your eyes are already closed. He relaxes his body and tries to sleep, but his jumbled mind keeps him awake. Hyunjin waits until you’re fast asleep before scooting closer, softly taking your hand in his before closing his eyes once again. He did it a lot when he was younger, holding your hand until he fell asleep. You nagged at him because it woke you up, but you never told him to stop doing it.

Tonight is no different.

“Hyunjin?”

“Sorry.”

You turn to him, “It’s okay.”

He mumbles a thank you, ready to go to sleep when you move to the mattress. Hyunjin gulps at the close proximity, it’s been too long since you slept on the same bed as him.

“Hyunjin, I missed you.”

Hyunjin heard a theory somewhere: 3.A.M-conversations are the most honest. It’s a little over 3A.M now, and he doesn’t how much of that theory is true, but your words fuel something deep within him. The feeling so strong he has to tear his gaze away from you. Hyunjin slowly pulls you into his arms, patting your back in rhythm with the clock.

He grazes his lips on your shoulder, mouthing his reply quietly, “I missed you too.”

You nod against his chest, pulling your hand out of his grasp so you could circle your arms around his torso.

Hyunjin falls asleep almost immediately, succumbing to the warmth and comfort you radiate.

He’s going to be alright.

“Do you think I’ll ever debut?”

Hyunjin takes off his SOPA jacket, plopping onto the bed while you’re munching on a pack of jelly. “Let me sleep for 10 minutes. I have to go to the company after this.”

You slap his thigh. “Why do you always sleep in my room? If I got a dollar everytime you sabotage my bed I’d be really rich now. Get out, you have practice!”

He reaches for your knee, using it as a pillow. Hyunjin feels you soften as you card your hand through his hair. “Is it hard? Are those mean hyungs still bothering you?”

Hyunjin shakes his head. “Changbin hyung told those motherfuckers to mind their own business.”

“Stop cursing!” you hiss. “It’s not cool, and what if you accidentally curse on broadcast later? You have so much to learn…”

Hyunjin opens his eyes and smiles when he meets your gaze. “Do you think I’ll ever debut?” he repeats his question.

“Have you seen yourself dancing? You’re better than most of the trainees I saw at the open showcase. Plus you have so many girls screaming your name. No offense, but that is definitely a plus point.”

You give his head a little smack when you notice doubt flashing through his orbs. “I believe in you, Hyunjin. Don’t doubt yourself,” you tell him softly. “And if you need someone to give those ‘motherfuckers’ a lesson, just call me. I know some people who can shut them up.”

He lets out an obnoxious gasp. “Are you a gangster now?! Your parents are going to be so disappointed in you. Looks like you have to say goodbye to medical school now…”

You sigh, now it’s your turn to look at Hyunjin with doubt in your eyes. “I’ll get in, right? What if I flunk my results later?”

“This is why I hate smart people,” he bemoans. “You rank first in the whole school, stop saying nonsense.”

Both of you a few more minutes lying in silence. When he waves you goodbye, Hyunjin feels like he can soar.

He’s safe with you, and you’re safe with him.

“Hwang Hyunjin, get off me!”

Hyunjin wakes up to you trying to untangle your legs from his. He catches your flailing legs, removing his before examining your face. “It’s almost noon. Aren’t you running late?” you pester, pointing at the clock.

“Lunch?” he asks.

This is supposed to be awkward. Hyunjin can’t recall what happened a few hours ago before blushing—he’s never been that intimate with you before. You two have had a fair share of platonic cuddle sessions, but last night felt different.

“Not yet,” you mutter. “I just woke up. Oh God my back hurts.”

He wants to know whether you feel the same, but you’ve made your way to the bathroom before he could ask anything. “What do you want to eat?” you yell, almost incoherently due to the toothpaste in your mouth.

“You’re not going to shower?” Hyunjin playfully shrieks.

“It’s my day off!”

“My mom must’ve cooked something. Gimme 10 minutes.”

Although he’s done this at least a hundred times, it’s still hard for Hyunjin to leave home. Seeing his he’s never able to stop his heart getting heavier at the sight of bidding his family goodbye until God knows when.

“Please come home more Y/N,” his mother asks you, raising her eyebrow. “Hyunjin seems to randomly pop up whenever you’re here, so please, come home more.”

You smack his back loudly, causing him to let out a choked groan. “I’ll teach him a lesson, don’t worry.”

Hyunjin gives his mother a sheepish smile, knowing all too well what she meant. He pulls you out before she starts grilling him for information, yelling one last goodbye before closing the door. You search for something inside your bag, stopping him from pressing the elevator button.

“You left something?”

“My dorm key,” you answer, walking back to your own unit. “You should just go,” you say. “It’s in the middle of the day anyways, we shouldn’t be seen together.”

Hyunjin follows you inside, watching you rummage through one of the buffet drawers. He notices how your shoulders are slumped and the way your eyebrows furrow. As his mind wanders to last night once again, you jab at his stomach lightly. “Hey, you’re spacing out.”

“Oh,” is all Hyunjin can say. He takes a good look of you, something he always does before he parts ways with you. Before he can stop himself, Hyunjin has wrapped his arms around you, letting you hear his erratic heartbeat. He still misses you, even after spending the whole night together.

Eventually, you pull away. “I’ll go first.” You ruffle his head. “See you when I see you?”

“See you soon,” he corrects you.

You smile, taking your bag from the floor and when he blinks, you’re gone.

Hyunjin still misses you now, even when you were just in his embrace a few minutes ago, burying your head into the crook of his neck. The empty space in his heart seems to expand whenever he thinks about you.

It hurts.

Minho ends the dance practice and everyone collapses on the floor the moment the music stops playing. Hyunjin immediately restarts the discussion they had before practice started.

“We used to sing both Grow Up and You Can Stay, why do we have to choose one now?” he demands while all of them are sprawled on the floor. “Our fans miss it too, I think it’s the perfect chance to bring it back.”

Chan takes a deep breath, nodding at Hyunjin. “I can’t see why not,” he says with a chuckle. “I don’t even remember why we abandoned it in the first place.”

Hyunjin does, and he knows Chan does too. It was simple, really. The song that once gave them comfort turned into this big monster made out of their worst nightmares. Each member had cried to the song during some of their concerts, and now performing it in front of everyone always brings back the painful memories.

“Yeah, we should sing it again,” Felix adds, kicking Jisung’s leg so the latter would sit up and voice out his opinion. “Well.” Jisung scratches the back of his head, “I’m cool with it.”

The rest of the group mumbles similar answers and Chan claps, giving Hyunjin a thumbs up. “Hyunjinnie is all grown up,” he praises before gathering his things and leaves. Hyunjin snorts at the leader’s compliment, but his sparkly eyes can’t fool anyone.

He pulls out his phone to relay the happy news to you, but the sparks in his eyes quickly fade when his messages from hours ago are still unread.

“What time are we leaving tomorrow?” he asks.

Seungmin checks his phone. “5A.M.”

Hyunjin wipes his sweat, chugging his water. Their American tour starts in a few days, and while he’s ecstatic because they’ll be performing at LA Staples Center for the first time, he also feels uneasy.

He takes out his phone, opening his contacts and stops when he sees your name. He stares at the number he remembers by heart.

“You okay?” Seungmin asks. “If you’re worried about District 9’s formation change, don’t. You nailed it today.”

“District 9…” Hyunjin trails off. “We’re getting too old for District 9.”

Jeongin grunts in agreement. “Whenever we finish my head always spins for like a minute. It’s been too long.”

“Yah,” Seungmin scolds him. “You need to get it checked. What if there’s something wrong with your head?”

The youngest does an exaggerated head banging, earning a kick from the puppy-like boy. Hyunjin chuckles at the two’s antics; some things never really change, and he’s grateful that this is one of those things.

Seungmin throws a playful punch at Jeongin’s stomach one last time before focusing his gaze back on Hyunjin. “Seriously though, did something happen?”

Hyunjin’s brain has a lot of template answers to questions like this, but the cliché words on tip of his tongue feel burning. His friends wait patiently as he fumbles for words, blinking his tears away when he fails to find the right words.

“I don’t even know if there’s anything,” he finally concludes. “It’s just—ever since Bonsang, it’s been hard. It’s been… nothing. Empty.”

Seungmin and Jeongin only nod, as if they understand how he feels. They probably do, Hyunjin thinks. Maybe he’s not the only one. Maybe all of his members have experienced it at some point, although at different times. Hyunjin feels slightly relieved at the thought. I’m not insane.

When he was a trainee, he thought everything would be fine once he debuted. It was, to some extent. But he was young and naïve, and when things beyond his control happened, Hyunjin barely managed to stay afloat. People told him how to handle stress, how to voice out his concerns, how to manage his body, mind and soul. He knew how to survive, theoretically.

No one actually taught him nor the other boys, and for an 18 year-old boy, feelings got intense quickly. After some trials and errors, everyone figured that it was best not to bottle up their feelings. Once again, it sounded easy in theory. In reality, with so many things happening at once, most of them eventually created a space in their own heads to seal everything in. They endured.

Jeongin looks at him with hesitation, rubbing his hands together. “It happens,” he reassures him. “It’s okay to worry about it, hyung. But worry about it with me, please!” Jeongin raises his tone. “You can barge into my room anytime. You can annoy the hell out of me, but stop suffering alone, will you?!”

Seungmin can’t miss the chance to tease the maknae. “Says the one who cried alone all night long in the bathtub after losing his voice.”

“If I hadn’t found you, you would’ve passed out,” Hyunjin adds. Jeongin lifts his hands in defeat. “Whatever. But I meant what I said.”

“Our Jeongin is so dependable,” Hyunjin coos.

“You say that all the time.” Jeongin rolls his eyes. “And then still baby me.”

Seungmin takes Hyunjin’s phone from the floor, passing it to the owner. “Call Y/N.”

Hyunjin panics a little. “Why?”

Seungmin shrugs. “Better days start after meeting the person you want to see the most!”

“Speaking of you and Y/N,” Jeongin quips. “You guys aren’t in high school anymore, stop flirting with each other and date already.”

Hyunjin gets a surge of bravery and dials your number, but immediately regrets his decision with each passing minute. He almost ends the call when you finally answer. “Hyunjin?”

“H-hi,” he stammers. “Busy?”

“Kind of... What? What happened?”

“Can we meet? I only need a couple of minutes. You’re in Seoul, right?”

“I am. Hyunjin, what’s going on? You’re scaring me.”

It’s scaring me too.

“I want to tell you in person. Where are you? I’ll come to you.”

Hyunjin isn’t sure when the lines between best friends and something more started to get blurry. The worse thing is, he realized it way too late and things got complicated before he could do anything about it.

“It’s too late to back out,” he mouths to himself while opening the stairwell door in the hospital you’re currently at. You’re sitting on one of the steps, dozing off as your head hits the wall every now and then.

Hyunjin runs his hand through his hair, guilt consuming him. He sits beside you, pulling your head to his right shoulder. The two of you always attended the same school until high school, when he decided to enroll in SOPA instead of a regular school. Since then, he never really knows what’s going on in your life. You told him about your close friends, the small fights, medical students’ inside jokes, the good looking boys, all the knowledge and experiences you’re grateful for despite the never-ending suffering and constant lack of sleep. You told him everything, but he’s never actually seen you in your world.

You’ve seen enough of his world—you’ve gone to his concerts, awards shows, even fansigns (as a prank because you wanted to see him getting all flustered while pretending not to know you). Hyunjin never has the time or makes an effort to do the same, and while it’s completely understandable due to the nature of his job, he feels like he’s going to lose you.

As he brushes your hair out of your face, Hyunjin asks himself whether he’s good enough for you.

“Whoa,” you suddenly whisper, straightening your body. “Did I fall asleep?”

Hyunjin stops you from getting up. “You must be tired.”

“So are you.” You remove his hand from your head. “So tell me. What’s going on?”

You’re here, sitting beside him, only wanting truth to come out of his mouth. Hyunjin bites his lip, the urge to just let go is eating him up, his soul begging him to get some answers. The familiar hollowness is back, and tears start to roll down his cheeks.

This isn’t the first time he cries in front of you, so you just pat his head, waiting for the tears to stop. “I’m sorry,” he groans. “I’m so sorry Y/N.”

You lift his head, eyes looking straight into his. “What for?” you mutter. “Hyunjin, please tell me.”

Hyunjin makes a silent plead at himself to toughen up, but it’s hard when you’re staring at him like this, wide eyes filled with raw concern and sincerity that never fail to touch the deepest part of his heart. “Hmm?” you prompt, still patting his head ever so softly.

“It’s been hard,” Hyunjin sniffles. “It’s hard to look forward to the future. I feel restless all the time. I have nothing to fight for. It’s…,” He makes gestures with his hand in attempt to explain it better. “… empty.”

You wipe his tears with the sleeve of your white coat. “Do you know why you feel that way?”

Hyunjin nods. “We’re doing well, we really are… and that’s probably why. Everything is going too well I don’t know what thrills me anymore. I thought I’d feel content once I reached all of my dreams, but that’s not the case.”

He examines your face, rehearsing the next lines in his head again and again. You cock an eyebrow, encouraging him to continue. And the last bit of Hyunjin’s defense crumbles with every blink of your pretty eyes.

“And you… I miss you all the time. Even when you’re right here with me, I still miss you. I have to hold back whenever I’m with you because I don’t want you to run away from me. I love you, Y/N. I don’t know when it all started but maybe I’ve always loved you and it hurts me not being able to tell you that. The emptiness… it gets worse whenever you tell me we shouldn’t be seen together or that you have to go or when you have other boys like Jaehyun who are clearly better for you than I am because they can be there for you. I love you so bad you don’t know how hard it is to go through days without you, without kissing you good night, without hearing you laugh for me. I keep thinking, ‘what if you’re suddenly gone?’ Maybe you’ll leave me someday, maybe you’ll tell me that you can’t be my friend anymore, but I need you, Y/N. I love you and I need you here with me to keep going. I—”

Hyunjin watches you slowly—very slowly—retract your hand from his head as words fail him, and he feels as if his guts are being hammered to pieces. He can’t read your eyes, can’t even try to define what your gaze means.

You eventually stand up, pulling him up with you. “I’m not the answer, Hyunjin,” you mutter. “You can’t expect that you’ll never feel empty again once I say that I accept your feelings. It’s just—it’s not fair. This isn’t just about us not being together.”

“But—”

“I know,” you cut him off, your body start shaking due to all the tension. “I know. That’s how you feel, and I can’t dictate you what to feel and not to feel. Think about it like this…”

You pause to check if he’s still listening to you. He nods, weakly.

“… you spent years working your ass off to get recognition from everyone, and you did it. Don’t ever forget that, I’m begging you. So all of your dreams have come true and you feel lost now… it’s okay. You have a lot of time, Hyunjin. You can always have a new dream, you can have a thousand more. Don’t make me the answer to everything just because you haven’t found any other answer.”

You wait for him to respond, but Hyunjin is frozen to his spot. His world is now upside down, and he doesn’t know how long it will take to fix everything.

Your phone rings, snapping him out of his trance. You look at him apologetically. “I have to go.” Those damn words again. “Ask Seungmin to help you ice your face, you don’t want to show up at the airport with swollen eyes, do you? Call me before you take off, okay? Hyunjin?”

He can only nod, trying his best to give you the most reassuring smile. He feels everything all at once: shock, shame, sadness… but mostly regret because you’re right.

You always are.

“Have fun on tour! Send me all the photos you take!”

Now it’s turn for Hyunjin’s phone to ring as you make your way out, leaving him alone. He’s about to press the green button when the door opens once again. Hyunjin lets his phone ring, watching you fidget with your hands.

He’s still pretty much tongue-tied, but forces himself to ask, “Did you ever… love me? As more than friends?”

To his surprise, you take quick steps towards him, tiptoeing to press your lips on his. Your eyes are closed, your hands are tied to your sides and it takes Hyunjin his whole willpower to refrain himself from pulling your body closer, wrapping his arms around you and kissing the life out of you. He closes his eyes and just stands there, accepting whatever you’re willing to give him because there’s nothing he yearns more than your love and trust.

Hyunjin almost whines when you pull away with red cheeks and teary eyes. “Come back to me when you’re ready. I’ll wait for you. Only you.”

It’s Hyunjin’s 10th (or 11th? He can’t really remember) visit to New York, but he’s still as excited as a kid with his lollipop. After years of traveling from country to country, Hyunjin realizes that he just doesn’t get bored, ever. Each place holds a special memory he keeps close to his heart, something sentimental that motivates him to go back every chance he gets.

“Stand there,” he motions at Seungmin—the only one who’s willing to accompany him walking around the Empire State Building for the nth time—to stand at the spot he points at. Seungmin follows his instruction, smiling when Hyunjin starts counting. They examine the result and Seungmin shoves his leg. “I guess you finally learned something.”

Hyunjin feigns hurt, setting his camera’s focus on a group of kids, holding his breath before pressing the shutter. “As if you taught me anything.”

He glances at his bandmate who’s busy taking photos with his own camera. Photo hunting with Seungmin is always in Hyunjin’s “limited free time” itinerary. They’ve strolled around so many cities together, sometimes it takes the whole day if time allows them. Strangely, Seungmin never gets bored of it either and although it’s no surprise since he loves photography more than anything else, Hyunjin is grateful.

“You never say no whenever I ask you to take photos with me,” Hyunjin states. “Why?”

Seungmin frowns. “What kind of question is that?”

“Just wondering,” Hyunjin mumbles. “We do pretty much the same thing everytime. Sometimes I force you to go to the places we’ve been to… don’t you get bored?”

“It’s always different everytime, I thought that’s why sometimes you take photos at the same place? It’s never exactly the same, don’t you think?”

Hyunjin goes through the photos he took in New York last year, smiling at some of them as he recalls the funny anecdotes behind them. When he slips his phone back into his jeans pocket and lets his eyes wander… yes, nothing is exactly the same.

“You truly are a photographer. When’s your next exhibition, Photographer Kim?”

Seungmin snaps his finger. “Ah! Exhibition! I forgot to ask you, why don’t we held a joint exhibition this time?”

“You want to show your photos along with my photos?”

“Why not? Yours are amazing too! And you’re my best friend, it’ll be fun.”

Hyunjin imagines having his photo framed on the wall. Small placards pinned underneath, containing the words he constructs to explain each of them. The fans will come to feel how it feels like to be here behind the lens. Maybe people who don’t even know him will come too, and get a chance to actually know him.

He reaches his phone to relay the idea to you, smiling to himself when he finds messages from you instead.

y/n: [sends a picture]

y/n: ahreum finally woke up today! isnt she pretty?

me: everyone is prettier than you

me: you must be happy!!

y/n: ??????

y/n: oh. she asked me to recommend boygroup songs

y/n: i made her listen to every single skz song

y/n: and your solo songs!!!!

me: awwwwwww

me: and you cant be doing this for free right?

“Is that your best friend slash girlfriend?” Seungmin is suddenly standing behind him, reading over his shoulder. “You guys are so cute it’s making me feel sick.”

Hyunjin sighs, gazing at the busy street upon him. “We’re not dating. At least not yet.”

“What happened? Just realized that I never really asked.”

“She asked me to come to her when I’m ready.”

Seungmin looks at him quizzically, but decides not to press him further. “Are you ready now?”

They’re flying back to Seoul next week, and while he thought he wouldn’t be able to enjoy the tour, he truly did. He thinks of all the good things that have happened: the sold out shows, the happy tears, his improvement, the upcoming exhibition with Seungmin, and lastly, you—the one who’s patiently waiting for him.

There have been a lot of times when Hyunjin feels like he’s everywhere but nowhere at the same time. It sounds scary, but now he realizes that he only needs to admit that he’s indeed everywhere, but never nowhere.

“Almost.”

The instrumental of Grow Up starts to play and all the boys rush back to their designated positions. The atmosphere turns a bit more sentimental as the bridge approaches, they’re just looking at each other while Minho is singing his part. In the past, they often teased each other during this very part, afraid that they would break down if they let their emotions overtake them. Hyunjin averts his gaze to the audience, watching the beautiful color of their lightsticks light up the huge stadium. As he gestures at some of the fans to stop crying, Hyunjin thanks himself for convincing the others to add the song back to their setlist.

The song comes to an end, and Chan gathers everyone to make a circle. Hyunjin feels pats on his head and back, Chan’s voice drowned by the fans who are still singing. He can’t resist the urge to turn around, so he does just that, and what he won’t trade what he sees for anything.

Their fans are standing there, eyes focused on everyone on stage as they sing each syllable perfectly. Changbin follows his gaze, and soon all of them are facing the audience again, listening to every wish, every hope, and every message relayed through the lyrics of the song.

Hyunjin lifts his mic, eyes darting to Chan who gives him a nod of approval. “Thank you,” he begins. “This is our last stop for this tour, and I can’t be any prouder and thankful to all of you.”

He lets the translator translate his speech before continuing, “I had a lot of worries before the tour started. I honestly thought I wouldn’t be able to go through everything.”

“You made our dreams come true,” Hyunjin continues. “You made my dreams come true and I naively thought that was the end of everything. But I learned a lot during this tour, and once again, you made this happen. All the pretty words you told us, they mean a lot. They always will. I realized that this will always be my dream, no matter how many times this has come true. I want to make you, who stay with us throughout everything, happy. I want to be here for a very long time. I want to be with you, to be with the members and our family, for a very long time.”

He stops when he feels he can’t continue anymore, letting the others take the spotlight. He gives each of his bandmates with a loving gaze, stopping at Minho who lets tears roll down his cheeks this time. Jeongin is giggling beside him, walking over to wrap the tsundere hyung in a firm hug.

Hyunjin thinks they’ve really come a long way.

Being back home usually gives Hyunjin a peace of mind, but when he sees no notification on his phone, he feels weird. He dials his mother’s number, his heart grows even more anxious when she picks up.

“Oh Hyunjin-ah, did you just land?”

“Yeah.”

“Can you come over here? Or do you have an important schedule?”

“No, we get 2 days off. What’s going on?”

“Y/N’s sister passed away. Sorry we didn’t tell you sooner, we didn’t want you to panic.”

“Eomma! How could you?”

“I’m sorry. This is Y/N’s request as well. She’s been here for 2 days and no one can make her eat anything. Can you take her home?”

“I’ll be there soon.”

“You’re going to live in Germany! You’re such a lucky kid!”

The little girl smiles bashfully as you pout at her. “The luckiest girl on Earth,” you add, fixing her messy hair.

“If you’re so jealous of me, why don’t you come along?”

“Are you kidding?” you exclaim. “I’m on my way to be the greatest doctor in this country. You can’t change my mind.”

“Alright, it’s time to go,” your father interrupts, giving you one last hug before whispering things into your ear. Hyunjin steps back to allow you say goodbye to your family, tearing up at the painful sight. Your father, a doctor, accepts an offer to work in a hospital in Germany and takes the whole family with him since your sick little sister needs more intensive treatment.

But you’re staying to become a great doctor like your father, hoping you’ll get a chance to cure your sister later.

“Please take care of her, Hyunjin. We trust you,” your mother tells him. Hyunjin nods, enveloping your hand in his. “Don’t worry, I’ll be here monitoring her every move and drag her back home whenever she spends too much time at the academy.”

Your sister laughs, bowing to Hyunjin. “I also want a boyfriend like Hyunjinoppa! Please take care of our unnie.”

You yank your hand away from him. “He’s not my boyfriend!”

Hyunjin seems unbothered by your statement, bowing to your family to annoy you more. “Our family will take care of her, you can trust us.”

Your sister’s smiling face greets Hyunjin as he enters the funeral home. He stares at the photo then closes his eyes to pray, whispering strings of apologies that’s always too late. I’m sorry I never visited you. I’m sorry I failed to take care of your sister. I’m sorry I didn’t call you enough.

He bows to your family, the first bow since years ago, and he wishes he could turn back time. Hyunjin turns to you, gazing into your tired eyes. Your mother pulls him towards you. “She hasn’t eaten at all. Can you please bring her home, Hyunjin? I hope you’re not too busy. I’m sorry that we meet like this.”

“Hyunjin just landed in Seoul. How could you force him to come here?” you snap, returning his gaze. “Go home. I’ll call you later.”

Hyunjin almost yells in frustration, but swallows everything before dragging you out, only tightening his grip on your wrist when you try to pry his hand off of you. You keep shouting at him, yelling at him to stop, but Hyunjin doesn’t budge. He drags you all the way to his car, opening the passenger door for you.

“Get in the car, Y/N.”

Without waiting for you to move, he lifts your body and sits you down, fastening your seatbelt. “Please don’t push me away,” he pleads. “Why do you always tell me go home, go back to practice, to leave… why?! I promised your parents to take care of you. I promised your sister, why aren’t you letting me do that?!”

“I never asked you to do that,” you mutter through gritted teeth, causing Hyunjin to grip your shoulders.

“You only said that to hurt me,” he replies. “Even now you’re still trying to push me away. I want to be here Y/N. Don’t you want me here?”

You avoid his eyes, keeping your gaze on your clasped hands. “Tell me,” Hyunjin challenges. “Tell me that you don’t want me to stay with you, and I’ll leave.”

He waits for you to respond, letting out a relieved sigh he doesn’t bother hiding when you shake your head. “Want you here. Thank you.”

“Have you cried?”

After your sister was born, you were told not to shed tears in front of her. Your parents always scolded you if you started crying when you saw her in pain, and after some time, it became a habit. A habit that Hyunjin absolutely despises since it makes you suppress your feelings, as if punishing you for having feelings.

“I don’t know… maybe I haven’t.”

“You lost your sister, you can cry. Your parents cried a lot too, it’s fine.”

You nod, resting your head in the crook of his neck when tears start to well up. Hyunjin presses a kiss on your temple, finding himself tearing up the moment you start sobbing, something he has never witnessed although he’s known you for almost his whole life.

“Is this your Armani suit?” you manage to voice in the middle of sobs and snorts. He takes you into his embrace, chuckling, “Yes, but you can ruin it however you want. Another privilege as my best friend.”

“Can I abuse this privilege?”

“Ruining my expensive suits?”

“No,” you laugh airily. “Crying when you’re with me.”

Hyunjin cups your wet cheeks, gently pushing your hands away when you want to wipe your tears away. “Anytime. You can cry, laugh, curse, get angry, get drunk… you can do anything when you’re with me.”

And that’s all it takes before you start sobbing into his suit again. Hyunjin is standing there for the longest time, sandwiched by the passenger seat and door of his car with you in his arms. He doesn’t care, he will do it all over again, and he will do much more. For you, and only you.

“Where are you? It’s past midnight already!”

“Hwang Hyunjin, you’re lucky I’m willing to go home when I have a morning shift tomorrow,” you scold him over the phone.

“It’s my birthday! Wait, it isn’t even my birthday anymore!” he whines in an obnoxious tone that never fails to upset you. He giggles when he hears you huff, the sound of the elevator signaling that you’ve already arrived.

“You asked me to buy you a cake right before I left,” you hiss. “Now open the door, I’m outside.”

The call ends and Hyunjin rushes to the door. You’re carrying the red velvet cake he requested, the candles already lit and Hyunjin tries not to melt at the way you look at him. He did ask you to buy him a cake and “surprise” him at your apartment, but he is nowhere near ready to see you like this: all smiley and cheery for him despite sounding annoyed over the phone.

“Happy birthday,” you sing song, your smile growing wider as he blows the candle. Hyunjin returns your smile before taking the cake from you, pulling you towards your room. “Go get changed, I’ll slice the cake for you.”

A few minutes later, both of you are seated on your couch, talking about every little thing while enjoying the cake. Hyunjin tells you about Stray Kids’ upcoming comeback, a very special one since Minho choreographed the title track. You tell him about various cases that happened in the hospital while wondering if you’ll ever finish medical school and actually be a doctor.

Everything feels the way Hyunjin expects it to be, until you put your empty plate on the table and look at him straight in the eyes. “Hyunjin…”

He quickly swallows and places his plate on the table as well, never breaking eye contact with you. “What?”

You gulp. “Do you remember when I asked you to come find me when you’re ready?”

“Feels like yesterday.”

“Well,” you murmur. “I’m just wondering if you’re… ready.”

Fire lights up in his stomach, and before you can continue, Hyunjin is already trapping you between his body and the couch. “I am,” he says. “Are you?”

You brush his fringe with your fingers. “You were waiting for me?”

“You told me to start dreaming again, so I did,” Hyunjin recalls. “And I realized that all of my dreams are right in front of me—you, my family, the hyungs, Jeongin, the fans… keeping you guys with me is something I’ll always dream of although all of you are already here.”

You pout at him, but Hyunjin doesn’t miss the proud gleam in your eyes. “Then what’s taking you so long?”

He pinches your nose. “I waited for you to be ready, as you said before, it wasn’t just about us being together. I don’t want you to choose me only because you feel like you need me. I want you to… want me… to love me with a clear head. Just like what you wanted me to do. I want to give you the world, but only if you allow me to.”

You circle your arms around his neck, sighing happily, “You gave me the world, Hyunjin. You listen to me, you console me, you give me a shoulder to cry on. You’re the only one I’ve ever waited for, and I’m so glad that you came back to me.”

Hyunjin is sure that his whole system has stopped working, the words you just uttered feel like the strongest, yet the sweetest liquor he’s ever tasted. He is drunk on the love you offer; he’s drunk on your touch, your smile and everything you want to give him. You’re driving him nuts, completely nuts, but it’s the only thing he wants to feel. You are the only one he yearns to feel.

You seem to sense his burning gaze and start nibbling on your bottom lip. “So this is the part where you kiss me…”

“This is the part where I kiss you…”

You shake your head. “This feels weird. You’re my best friend.”

“You kissed me,” Hyunjin reminds you. “It’s not like we’ve never done it before.”

“No, but—” You pause to let yourself breathe. “I kissed you. This is different, I’m not going to survive you kissing me.”

“For the love of God Y/N, just—”

You point at your lips. “And I still have my lipgloss on!”

Hyunjin is caressing your reddening cheek now, trying to destroy the last bit of your defense. “And what’s wrong with that?” he asks softly.

“It’s sticky! Our lips will get stuck and it won’t be romantic.”

“So what do you want to do? Go into your room and wipe it off with a cotton pad or something?”

“Yeah, let’s do—”

Hyunjin doesn’t let you finish as he finally dives in, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that set both of you on fire. He hums when he feels your body relax in his hold, allowing him to savor you with so much longing and want. Hyunjin lets his heart take the lead, kissing you harder whenever you tug the ends of his hair and making him putty under your touch. It never feels enough, it feels like he only gets hungrier everytime you return his kiss, the feeling of your lips moving against his almost destroys him.

Nothing is stopping him now, he came back to you and you welcomed him with open arms. Hyunjin leaves one more open mouthed kiss on your lips before pulling away with a loud pop, taking in the sight of you trying to breathe. You slowly meet his eyes with flushed cheeks, eyes mirroring his own and Hyunjin tries to remember every single detail. “God I love you so much,” he hears himself whisper.

You smile, lifting your hand to trace his face delicately. “I love you.”

“Are you mine now?” Hyunjin knows this is childish, but he wants to hear it. He longs to hear it.

Thankfully, you’re willing to play his game tonight. “Only yours.”

“No more mourning over Jung Jaehyun?”

“Jesus Christ, do you need to stoop that low.”

“Yes.” Hyunjin pecks your nose. “He doesn’t listen to K-pop, right? Introduce him to me.”

You roll your eyes. “I love you, why the hell are we talking about Jaehyun now?”

“Then what should we talk about?”

“Since we’re on a competition to ruin the mood, lemme burst your bubble: my parents are moving back in next week so we need another place to do... this.”

“Okay,” Hyunjin answers. “What are we gonna do now?”

You wrap your legs around his torso, making him gasp. “I don’t know, kiss me again? I’m gonna tell you this just once, but I, along with thousands of other people, have always wanted to kiss you. It made me feel pathetic, but it is what it is.”

Hyunjin blushes, but refuses to lose to you. “You tried to make me not kiss you a few minutes ago and now you’re desperate to kiss me. Was I that good?”

“Hmmm I guess so,” you hum.

He swiftly lifts your body, grinning when you tighten your hold around his neck. “Well, I’m yours to kiss now,” he teases, trying to walk into room without knocking into things. You leave soft kisses all over his face, prompting Hyunjin to walk faster so he could just kiss you already.

When your back hit your bed, Hyunjin stops to admire your face. “I kissed you a long time ago, don’t you remember?”

Your eyes widen. “You? Kissed me? With those plush lips? When?!”

“You don’t remember? But it was our first kiss!”

You spend the next few minutes racking your brain before nodding. “Ah, it did happen a long time ago.”

“It’s okay, maybe you wanted to forget that moment. It was your darkest time, and I probably shouldn’t have done that.”

Shaking your head, you run your thumb along his lip. “Thank you for staying with me all these years.”

Hyunjin closes the gap between you once again, hoping to chase away all the sorrow inside your soul. You pull him closer, making him practically lying on top of you, feeling your chest rise with each touch of his lips on your skin. “Thank you,” a kiss on each of your eye, “for,” a kiss on the tip of your nose, “making me,” a kiss on your lips—this time he lets it linger, “dream,” a kiss on your chin, “again,” and a kiss on your neck.

It took Hyunjin so long to understand the world, and now he still hasn’t understood even half of it. But in the middle of his journey, he met you. He learned to dream, he learned to love you.

And he learned to love himself.

The door opens with a bang, revealing an incredibly panicked Hyunjin. He just finished training when he received a call from you, who said nothing but, “I won’t let you walk home alone.” You wouldn’t end the call throughout his way home, but refused to say anything else and almost making Hyunjin dash to the police station.

Hyunjin sees your shadow, letting out a small scream when he spots you lying on the floor in the dark. He runs to you, about to carry you back into your room when you stop him. “I feel like crying,” you rasp, choking on your saliva. “I can’t stop it.”

It’s been a month since your family left, and while you’re trying your best to be a big girl and live the way you always do, it’s not easy. Hyunjin lies beside you, eyes locked on the tears rolling down your cheeks. You never cry loudly. You never sob nor wail. You just cry silently, mostly in the dark so you can’t see yourself crying.

Hyunjin takes your hand in his, hovering over you before tracing your tears with his lips as if it can stop them. He pecks every wet spot, slowly getting to your lips. He leaves a chaste, barely-there kiss before wrapping his arms around you, whispering comforting things until you start falling asleep on the hard floor.

Hyunjin hopes you’ll allow yourself to cry however you wish to someday.

a/n: i was so happy writing this that i almost cried when i finished because i know i’m going to miss writing this one. this story feels so sentimental, happy and sad at the same time and probably that’s why i feel so attached to it. ive wanted to write this since last year, even before “give my heart a chance”. i always wondered what would happen after we reach our dreams and i hope you’ll feel a little better after reading this (especially if you’re experiencing the same thing). this story is a long journey, but i hope you’ll enjoy it. 

[imaginetings]

if you love me don’t let go - eggsy unwin

Y/N - Your Name

M/N - Middle Name

L/N - Last Name

M/O - McDonalds Order

Word Count - 2471

Requested? - Nope

Warnings? - Swearing, mention of dying and injury, flashbacks that may get you in feels

Notes - I’m in my feels okay :( also it’s formatted more space for paragraphs and i canny be bothered to fix it sorry. also would you guys want a second part of this in eggsy’s pov??

part two

When they say you’re meant to see important parts of your life flash through your head before you die, they weren’t wrong. Yet after all that I’ve done there is one common denominator in these flashes, Eggsy. The man that has held a significant part of my heart for most of my life ever since we met in infants and he had that glimmer of hope in his eyes, we were the terrible twosome as Michelle loved to call us.

I never believed this would be the way I would go, alone in an alleyway, bleeding out because of a mugger or possible enemy of Kingsman. The details I didn’t care for, all apart from the fact that I didn’t have Eggsy with me.

Yet with the strength I have left, I reach for my phone and whilst my initial thought was to call Eggsy I know that if I am to get out of here alive, it’ll have to be the emergency services. After all, Eggsy is probably out with someone who’s most definitely not me. Best friends, that’s all we’ve ever been yet I love him more than that and I guess he’ll never reciprocate because it’s just plain old me.

Smearing blood on the phone screen as I typed in the one digit thrice I could only feel myself start to grow weaker as the time flew by. I can assure you that although time is flying, i’m not having fun.

“Hello, Emergency Service Operator speaking, which service do you require?”

“erm, the one with the ambulance thing. Yeah that’s it, ambulance please,” I ask and the operator who connects me instantly “Hello? I’m currently in an alleyway on Chiswick High Road and I was attacked and I’m bleeding really badly and I think they might have shot me, I don’t know it happened so fast and I just need help please,” I explain swiftly to the operator who keeps a calm tone.

“Okay miss can you stay on the phone? There’s an ambulance heading your way now. Can you stay on the line as I ask you questions?” The operator asks.

“I can try, but things are getting fuzzy.” I explain.

“Okay, so what’s your name miss”

“Y/N M/N L/N”

“What’s your age?”

“Oh erm what year is it again? Oh yeah 2015, so I am 23” I figure out.

“Okay miss, now what’s your blood type?”

“Red? I don’t know for the life of me Jesus Christ this is bad, i’m sorry,” I say to the operator as things start to fade in and out and I try to fight it, I really do yet black spots cover my vision and as I feel myself start to fall the last things I can hear is the operator on my phone asking me to stay awake.

——

“Okay class settle down today we are going to be doing work with partners so buddy up!” The teacher explains and I look around to see everyone buddy up with their best friends whilst i’m on my own. “Y/N, come here. Now you’re going to pair up with Gary okay?” I nod and we sit down at his table.

“My names not Gary, it’s Eggsy. It’s such a cooler name than Gary,” Gary, no. Eggsy says to me. I smile at him.

“Okay, Eggsy. I’m Y/N and you’re going to be my new best friend.”

“But you’re a girl.”

“So what if I am?”

“Do you pinky swear that you’re not gross like other girls.”

“I pinky swear.”

“Now we can be best friends,” Eggsy says with a toothy grin and I return it with him and we begin to work on the poster that the teacher had set for us.

——

“Wooo! Go Eggsy!” I shout in the stands next to Eggsy’s mum. Both of us cheering him on in his gymnastics competition.

“That’s my boy!” Michelle shouts and I shout alongside her cheering for my best friend as if the noise I make will make him win even more.

He pulls off the routine effortlessly as per usual and I sit there restlessly with a cheshire grin on my face, waiting until I can congratulate him because that’s some talent needed.

It was no surprise he won the competition, again, yet to congratulate him we went to the one place anybody goes for celebration, McDonalds. He orders a big mac whilst I get a M/O and we sit down and eat across from one another and Michelle is sat next to Eggsy with her meal as well.

“Well done babes,” Michelle says.

“Yeah, well done Eggsy!” I say with a mouthful of food and Michelle gives me a motherly glare. “Sorry.”

“Did you see me out there? I was flying like a bird and just swinging and it was amazing!” Eggsy explains rushingly which Michelle just chuckles at and I nod and carry on eating my meal.

——

“Oh come on Y/N what’s one night going to do to your study plan? We’ve literally only just started year eleven you’ll be fine, you’re a clever clogs anyways.”

“Eggsy, we had this conversation when it came to mocks in year ten and what did I do? I flunked it, so we are not going there.”

“Don’t be a spoilsport love come onnnn, you know you want to,” Eggsy eggs on with a shit eating grin on his face.

“Fine. I’ll take the day off and we can do what you want.”

“Oh you’re going to regret saying that now,” Eggsy chides and I roll my eyes at his antics.

“Are you trying to make me change my mind?” He shakes his head and we leave my room to go and follow whatever antics he had in store.

That night ended up with us in A & E because Eggsy got into a fight and I attempted to break it up and a for sale house sign ended up hitting me in the face.

A busted lip with a scar to remember it with since the sign managed to break through into my mouth.

The look on Eggsy’s face when it happened seemed to be one of pure anger and fear, but I could’ve been seeing things. Yet at fifteen I knew for definite after all the years I’d known Eggsy Unwin, I loved him. For the following weeks he was so protective of me that it was almost overbearing. Almost.

I managed to get him to watch some movies with me and we even ended up eventually on watching My Fair Lady which I fell asleep to within ten minutes whilst Eggsy watched the whole thing.

——

It was one of them nights, I instantly knew when the phone rang. It was Eggsy, Dean was being a dick again. He came over to my house and I put aside all of my a level revision and brought him into a hug. “Why did she pick him of all people Y/N?”

“I don’t know Eggs, it’ll get better eventually, I promise.”

“How can you promise that?” he asks and that’s when I know he needs a pick me up.

“Because i’m psychic okay, and obviously I can see your future which is extremely blinding to the naked eye that you’d need factor a thousand sun cream okay?” I explain to him with a sorrowful smile on my features, he simply nods and I pull him back into a hug although it’s an awkward angle due to the height difference.

“I was thinking about joining the marines.” Eggsy blurts out.

“That’d be great for you Eggs, I mean it’s what you want to do right?” I ask him looking into his green eyes.

“Yeah, but.” He stops.

“But what Eggsy?” I ask.

“I don’t want to leave you or mum.” He explains.

“Look, if you do just know I’m with you every step of the way regardless, and i’ll be there for your mum as well. I’ll look after her.” I explain and rub his back soothingly. He gives me a incredulous look. “Oi, don’t be cheeky. Need I remind you on how I got this scar?” I nudge him and he chuckles.

“Okay, you’ve got me,” he sighs and loops his arms around me and brings me in tightly. “How do you always know to say the right thing?” he asks.

“I’m an a level student, I’m smart what can I say?” I say cheekily with a wink and that causes him to tickle my sides and I have no escape. “Eggsy! Stop! Please!” I plead.

“Say uncle!”

“Neverrr!” I laugh out and it starts to pain me. Yet he is relentless in tickling me. “Okay okay! Uncle,” I relent and he laughs before launching himself on my bed.

“So… rom com or horror?” he asks.

“which would you prefer?” I return.

“Romcom.”

“Horror it is then,” I retort and he gasps from behind me. “Deal with it Eggboy, you prefer the romcoms and I like the horror movies I thought we had established this by now. Okay, now pick. Left or right.”

“Right.”

“It’s…. Saw!” I exclaim pulling the movie out from behind my back and he rolls his eyes at my excitement for the franchise. “Don’t worry, you can hide in my arms if you get scared,” I tease as I put in the dvd.

“Oi!” he shouts and throws a pillow which hits me square in the face as I turn around.

“What? It’s the truth and you know it,” I chastise.

——

Eggsy was halfway through training before his mum went mental at him not wanting to lose him like how she lost his dad and I could understand and so did Eggsy to the point that he dropped out.

When he returned home I had my final exam of my whole a levels. Three and a half hours of pure writing and by the time it was done my hand had cramped up into the position of how I hold my pen. Yet when leaving the building he was there waiting for me in casual clothes. “Eggsy!” I exclaimed as I ran to him to which he brought me into his arms with ease.

“Hello love,” he states with a smirk on his face. “Pub?”

“Yes, you read my mind. Especially after that exam,” I state and we head to my car that I had saved up for with work.

——

All throughout the time I was in university, Eggsy was by my side. Even when I dropped out because the band that I had been working with was starting to take off and I decided it was for the best to drop out of my degree.

He was there when my family kicked me out after learning of me dropping out and helped me find a flat as well.

There were many lows and many highs. There was always the almosts. The almost love, the almost kiss. Yet it never happened.

And thus darkness, the only familiar thing throughout, when I was attacked it was dark and that’s what it’s like for me without him, dark.

Yet in the near distance a rhythmic droning beats. It sounds almost like a heart monitor. Wait. I must have made it to the hospital. I was found in time.

Fighting to open up my eyes was probably harder than it should have been but I was determined. Although it was bright, I soon adjusted and I’m met with the clinical space of a hospital bedroom. Flowers are dotted around the room and I notice a small teddy bear in a suit amongst them all. I smile at the gesture. Then the door swings open where two nurses are chatting amongst themselves and that’s when they notice i’m awake.

The next few days were a blur and before I knew it I was heading home, alone. Although the days were a blur, nobody visited. Lying in my bed for the first time in what felt like forever was luxurious yet it was interrupted by a knock at my door and a groan from my mouth following suit. I grab my crutches and hobble to the door, ready to tell the person to fuck off yet when the door opens I’m met with the familiar green eyes.

“You’re okay!” he exclaims and goes to hug me which I recoil against.

“Yeah, as much as someone who was attacked can I guess.” I say and hobble back in leaving him to follow me in and I head back towards my bedroom where my bed beckons me.

“Are you okay?” he inquires. I just nod and sit on my bed. “Okay now I know you’re not okay, talk to me Y/N.” Tears start to well in my eyes.

“I don’t know okay. One minute I’m walking from Amy’s and the next I know someone is attacking me and asking me about your job and then I was alone and it just felt so cold and it felt horrible, like I haven’t felt like that since my parents were screaming and shouting at me for dropping out of University. Yet I was on the verge of death. But the worst thing Eggsy, it was being there bleeding out in the middle of London alone. I don’t think I can be alone again if I’m honest.” He pulls me into his side gently and motions for me to carry on. “I realised that all of the best moment in my life are with you and I don’t know what I am going to do with myself if I don’t tell you that I love you Eggsy. I have done since we were kids and I mean in a romantic way, not a platonic way and if you leave i’ll understand but I had to say it.”

“Y/N, when I got the call from the hospital saying that you were there, I froze. I don’t freeze. I was with Merlin and Roxy and I broke down hearing that news because guess what, Y/N M/N L/N I am in love with you and I have been for years okay?” He confesses and we lean into one another, it was like it went in slow motion and then the next thing I knew we were kissing. “God i’ve waited years to do that,”

“I can bet I have been waiting longer than you Eggs,” I smirk and cock my eyebrow at him. That’s when he tries to lay me down. “Ah ah ah, nope mister. I’m not allowed to engage in any physical activity for six weeks until the stitches can be taken out.” I explain to which he huffs and decides to just cuddle me instead. “But this, I can get used to,” I mutter and lay my head on his chest.

“I love you Eggsy.”

“I love you too Y/N”

[gtseven7]

My Seven Idols

Summary:

Got7 as highschoolers as they deal with graduation and college at the same time starting up their own Youtube channel as idols.

A/N: Second chapter skskskskssks updates are slow but it’ll be slower coz i have a job now lol and i just realized that my format (for all my fics) looks horrible on pc but it looks ok on mobile (thats where i used to do everything) imma be editing those bc they’re so awful i apologize. 

//prev

--

2

The big doors of the gymnasium opened, allowing a certain man in. Walking with confidence and steady feet, the murmurs of the people slowly dies down. At the very front, the reason of the crowd gathering together, stood oblivious to the person who just came in. They were still dancing to the beat of the music, trying to charm the ladies watching. Until the music abruptly stopped. Jinyoung holds the plug on his hand. The five guys, known as Five Roses, who were dancing earlier paused and looked for the source of disruption.

The audience parted as if it was the red sea as Jinyoung, the student council president walks towards them.

See, Jinyoung has a perfect face, perfect grades, perfect hair, perfect uniform, probably perfect everything. Many girls and some boys has a crush on him, obviously. But the fact that he's strict, cold and savage dwindles the affection the student body has for him making him the not so desirable anymore.

"What the...this guy again...dammit." Ji Woo, one of the Five Roses said upon seeing the sour look on the President's face. "Why is he here again?!"

"I should be asking that. Why are you here? Don't you have class?"

Knowing better for themselves, the rest of the people dispersed and went back to their respective rooms. No one wants to anger Jinyoung. No one wants to be in his bad side because he's scary. Nobody could say what would happen if they did disobey him. There was no brave soul who dared.

Maybe Jung Hwan will dare, as he speaks. "C'mon man, leave us alone. We're practicing for the idol competition. Our school's name is at stake here." He was only rewarded with a scoff and an eye roll. Jinyoung finds idol competitions between schools funny. It was a well-known fact that he doesn't support it. At all. Especially if you disregard your studies in favor of it. His nonchalance about the matter slowly aggravates the five boys. "Our school's academic performance is at stake. Adding you bunch of idiots skipping classes will not help it." The leader of the group, Yeon So, feeling a little less happy with how things are going, strode towards Jinyoung. "Pres, we could care less. But since you took the effort to go here and nag us, we'll follow you. The next time you do it again though, I wouldn't care if you're the president."

Face to face. It was like a two wolves staring each other down ready to bite off the other. There was an air of crackling electricity between them, trying to win and make the other back down. "You think that would scare me Yeon So?"

"No. But that was a warning. Stay in your lane, teachers' pet."

The five boys walked away with a grudge, leaving an exhausted Jinyoung. Don't get him wrong, he understands the passion they have what they do. He thinks it's a wonderful thing: to be passionate about something. To do something that you love. He might be a little jealous of them for having something that he doesn't despite the fact that everyone thinks he's perfect. It also irks him that they sacrifice learning to do it. More so that their school's academic standing compared to other schools is pathetic. Add the humiliating downfall of their sports team.

Everything's not going right for their reputation. The only good win they have is the idol competition, which is not really saying much. It's Jinyoung's second term as president and his last year. The pressure he has on himself to exceed his performance from last year before he graduates lays heavy on his shoulders. Resulting to him being more uptight than he usually is.

"Thinking too hard there, aren't you?"

Turning to see who spoke, even though Jinyoung knows that voice very well. It was Jaebum. He's scratching his head while yawning, worsening his bed head. The president's eyes turned into slits. "Do I have to reprimand you as well?" His long time friend only shrugged, already used to the president's stern warnings. "It's our break, I took a nap." Jinyoung sighed. He already knows making the other follow him is a lost cause. It doesn't mean he'll stop though. "You weren't in class before the break."

Both walked out of the gymnasium to head back to the main building. "Mrs. Kim called me in her office. Apparently I'm the only senior who hasn't submitted college plans." Mentioning college made Jinyoung stop in his tracks. The big elephant in his life. Something that he avoids to think about these last few months. "I heard you submitted late as well. Who would've thought Mr. Perfect Jinyoung had doubts as well." Jaebum teased his friend. He had seen him struggle to finish the forms. Conflict clearly written on his face every night as he stared at the piece of paper that probably has his future. Hair disheveled when he pulls it out of frustration.

The man in question can't help but to huff out. Even after submitting his half-hearted plans, he couldn't help but still ask himself what he wants to do with his life. "Have you thought about it? College, I mean..." Jinyoung asked his companion. A light breeze flew by them as he waited the other to answer. "I know what I want to do. I've always known."

Music. Im Jaebum's first love. Of course. Why did Jinyoung ask anyway? He knows it well.

“What about you?”

 They both walked the side field, mulling about the future and what awaits them.

 “I don’t know. My parents want me to take Medicine, but Mrs. Kim said I’ll fit in well with a business course.”

 “Do whatever you want man, whatever would make you happy.”

 “Hmm…”

What would make him happy anyway? He doesn’t have an answer to that. He’s been asking himself for a long time but Jinyoung comes out with a blank space in his heart waiting to be filled by something he himself can’t answer what. Now with their graduation looming, entrance exams coming closer, Jinyoung felt like he’s out of time.

  “If you knew what you wanted, why submit late anyway?” He asked his friend condescendingly, his JB hunter mode on. “I lost the form.”

 And Jinyoung’s signature eye roll with a dash of an exasperated sigh came out as usual whenever Jaebeom does anything stupid. “I don’t even know what to say about that.” They both stopped walking, the president ready to rant again, his back facing the field where their prestigious basketball team were playing (prestigious my ass, they lost four consecutive games already). “You could have…” But Jaebeom wasn’t entirely listening, seeing the orange ball flying towards them. Specifically, at his friend.

 “Jinyoung!”

 Jaebeom held the other’s shoulder and pushed him aside. He shielded Jinyoung with his body, the ball hitting him directly on the back. He was almost hugging him, bracketing his smaller shoulders with his wider ones. "Ugh. What?" confusion was what Jinyoung felt. 'Why is he hugging me all of a sudden? If this is because I was being a bit sentimental… I'll hit you Jaebeom.'

 "Omo! Sorry! Sorry!'

 Jinyoung peered over his friend's shoulder and saw Jackson, one of the members of the basketball team. "Didn't mean to hit 'ya! Sorry." He was cringing and had his hands in pleading. Their president was almost hit with a ball. They might get suspended! "Next time, watch where you're throwing the ball." Jaebeom's reputation isn't that great to be honest. With his biting stares, long hair and seasonal peircings, he's known to be the school's bad boy. A man you shouldn't cross. Someone to avoid at all costs. It's also well known that even the great disciplinarian Park Jinyoung can't handle him. Now, Jackson who's receiving ill intent from the other, he didn't seem to mind and his apologetic smile just bounced off Jaebeom's scary aura. Jinyoung was quite amused.

 "It wasn't me though! Sung Hwan threw the ball. I was only asked to fetch it. I'm sorry in behalf of the team though. Jinyoung, we're sorry for almost hitting you." He then bowed politely to express his sincerity. Jaebeom was dumbfounded at the boy who did not seem to mind his usual scary air.

 When Jinyoung realized that Jaebeom was still holdong him protectively, 'Tsk, what a worrywart.', he released himself indignantly and smoothened his uniform. Seeing the other still bowing to him, he felt uncomfortable. "Hey, it's okay. It was an accident."

 Jackson immediately straightened up and beamed. "Thank you! Anyway, are any of you hurt? The ball's a bit hard."

 "No not really." Jaebeom answered nonchalantly. Trying to look like a cool senior. Again, the president rolled his eyes at him.

 "We're fine Jackson. How about you, how's the team going? Are you still benched?" The athlete rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. He laughed lightly, but his smile decreased. Way to go Jinyoung. You officially made him feel bad. "Yeah… But that's okay! I can now do my other hobbies other than sports so…" Jackson covered his embarrassment with a hearty laugh, waving off the dampening of the mood. "No but really, I'm totally okay with it Jinyoung. No need to worry." He gave his most convincing smile to Jinyoung as the other frowned. Jackson's a foreign student who transferred to their school because of his parents' business in the area. Before he went to East High, he's already a great athlete with a bright future ahead of him. From what Jinyoung heard, he had already collected a ton of medals and trophies.

 "Are you sure? I can talk to the coach. Seriously that Coach Jang has favoritism. Only letting Sung Hwan to shine."

 "No no no! Don't worry about it. It's okay. I prefer it this way."

 Jinyoung was not convinced but bit his tongue from saying anything further. He just nodded and it seemed to satisfy Jackson as well. But Jaebeom on the other hand looked like he didn't like the friendly way of speaking of the other. "Hey. You're a junior aren't ya? Pay some respect on your seniors."

 Jackson looked at Jaebeom curiously, a teasing smile already on his face. "I'm older than Jinyoing though." The long haired senior's eyes widened. He turned to his friend to confirm and Jinyoung was not reacting to it. "He is?"

 "Yes. You guys are the same age. And you both make it sound like I'm so much younger. It's just a few months "

 The laugh that resounded the area was cheerful. Jackson's mood lifted up again. He bid goodbye to the two after grabbing the ball and jogged back to the court. But Jaebeom was stuck in his position, floored by the surprise of the fact and most likely because the foreigner wasn't really all that faltered in his presence unlike other people "Why is he a junior though?"

 As the subjects from his old school were quite different from what they have, some were not credited. Thus making him repeat his junior year. Having no choice but to accept, since it was an urgent migrate. Jackson got into the team with his natural sporty abilities, even better than the current players they have. But unfortunately, Mr Jang doesn't care and only fluffs up his favorite, the captain ball Sung Hwan. Which was such a waste and irks Jinyoung to the core. They lost consecutive competitions already even if they have someone like Jackson, they never bothered to bring hin out anyway.

 "You seem to know him well."

"I toured him around campus on his first day."

 "Oh aren't ya such a good student president?" Ah, Jaebeom was joking around once again. A feat that most people don't see. "Apparently not, you won't cut your hair and remove that metal on your nose."

 As if he was wounded by his friend's ribbing, he put his hand on his chest feigning hurt. "Yah! You said long hair suits me."

 "My opinion outside school doesn't mean a thing inside. Cut that hair."

next//

[eltanin-malfoy]

Lay All Your Love On Me

based on the song by ABBA

pairing : draco/fem-y/n 

word count : 2.1k

warning(s) : implied sex

requested : yes

a/n : i’m not a fan of the stereotypical ‘songfic’ format, so am just going to write it up more so in a manner to reflect the tone of the song? hopefully it works out.. also, this is nowhere near as upbeat as the song, so, sorry.

It had started as a short-term thing, really. Whatever it was the two of them had started to pursue. They were both sexually frustrated and stressed, but their timing was just absolutely off.

It was close to the end of their fifth year. Y/N wasn’t doing particularly well in her classes and with the widespread fear of You-Know-Who coming back into power, she found herself searching for some kind of an outlet. As unlikely as it was, she saw herself getting interested in a certain very infamous student : Draco Malfoy. 

They’d all heard about what Potter had said about his father. They’d all grown afraid of the sneering blonde who passed rude comments about their less privileged upbringings. But, for some unknown reason, Y/N couldn’t help but wonder what lay beneath the surface of this monster of a boy.

She’d seen him that one summer morning. It was supposed to be their last Hogsmeade weekend before they were off for the summer. She’d stayed back in the castle, desperate for some peace and quiet after the end of their exams. After an unusually lonely lunch, she’d decided to take a stroll as she sipped at a tall glass of ice cold pumpkin juice. She passed through the courtyard and caught sight of his white hair. 

She didn’t think he’d wanted her to find him the way he was, tall frame slouched back against an unfrequented corner, staring out at the sunlight in some all solemn way that was totally uncharacteristic of him. Why is he alone like this in the first place? She’d carefully taken a couple steps closer, curious to see what lay on the other side of the dark cloak slung across his shoulders. 

Crunch.

Before she knew it, he’d turned at the sudden noise. Her gaze immediately fell and she stared down at the ground, noticing that she’d managed to step on some kind of crumpled bunch of papers. 

“What are you doing here? You-” He paused the instant he noticed her bending down to pick it up. “Don’t.” His usual taunting voice had turned weak and she couldn’t help but sneak a glance at him again. The usual silver shine in his eyes had faded, and they’d turned glassy. She disregarded his words and picked it up, unravelling the paper to look at what was written on the paper. 

It was a copy of the day’s Daily Prophet. Why is he getting all touchy about this? She skimmed through the pages, opening up the front page again.. and suddenly.. it hit her.. 

The Battle of the Department of Mysteries. 

It’d only be a few days since everyone said it had happened. Only a few days since Dumbledore and Harry Potter and his so called army had gone and fought against He Who Must Not Be Named. And Malfoy’s own father had been said to have been in attendance, and according to that issue, was said to be attending a hearing which would seal his fate. 

He pulled it out of her hands, tossing it to the side. She practically jolted backwards, the glass in her hands falling to the ground with a crash. Their gazes met and she could practically feel her knees getting weak. She didn’t really know him, to begin with, their only contact had been the few words uttered in class which neither of them remembered for much after. Their sudden intimacy shocked her and she looked to the side, shutting her eyes as she felt blood rushing through her ears. 

He held her hand, probably having noticed her buckling knees. "I'm sorry about that, Y/L/N", He whispered softly, voice quivering. She returned the favour with a gentle clasp on his palm. He was warm. No not warm, burning. 

Was it that hot a day? Or…

She slowly peered up at him and noticed how flushed his face was, and felt her own getting hot. Why did he have such an effect on her? She couldn’t even understand it herself. 

***

It really hadn’t taken much for her to agree to it. Really. Barely anything at all. 

Just a day after that first meeting, the few conversations they’d managed to have by themselves had worked their charm. She liked to think it was just pity, really. They were at the brink of the Second Wizarding War, and somehow, his family had ended up on the wrong side of things. At least, in her perspective.

It’s not that they talked much anyways. She wasn’t even sure if they had much in common. It had all started in the least romantic way possible. They’d forced themselves into an abandoned broom closet on the seventh floor, desperate to find a place to discover each others’ bodies for the first time.

Even after that first time, Y/N could not find a way to explain that almost juvenile rush of feelings she felt every time she even thought about Malfoy. She tried her very best to ignore it, to remember every horrid thing she’d heard of him doing. But she just couldn’t stop herself from thinking about him. Every other second she spent with him before they left the castle was almost ethereal to her.

Every single experience before him suddenly seemed inferior. Every single person she’d ever felt attracted to suddenly felt secondary. She just couldn’t wrap her head around why.

***

That ridiculous infatuation had followed her through the summer and she couldn’t help but feel giddy as she got back on the Hogwarts Express for their sixth year. For some reason, his stupid pale face had given her a sense of security whenever she’d thought about it, and without it, she’d feel that same shiver up her back. She couldn’t help but feel a bit hopeful, wishing that the time they’d spent together before break had truly meant  something to him, but to her displeasure, they’d crossed paths, even locked eyes, but hadn’t said a word to each other. 

So.. it was nothing, then? Should I just ignore my feelings till they go away? 

She shuddered slightly as she noticed who he was with. Zabini, of course. She narrowed her eyes as she saw Pansy Parkinson sitting beside him. She tried her best to look away, drudging her trunk along with her as she followed her own companions, but she looked back, and what she’d seen in front of her hadn’t helped much with the sudden lurch of anxiety she felt in her abdomen.

Why is his head on her lap? Are they together now? Is it really true he goes through girls the way he does?

She grit her teeth and felt a pang of anger, but forced herself to turn away before she did anything she’d later regret. But, again, she found herself questioning her feelings. Why the sudden jealousy? He isn’t even yours to begin with, you silly old prat. Why had she suddenly become so bad at not catching feelings? Every single actual relationship of yours has suffered because of a lack of the same, right? 

She shut her eyes as she followed her friends into an empty compartment, shrugging away the memories and engaging in conversation as if nothing had even happened.

***

It didn’t even shock her, to be honest, when she smelled all her memories of him in that stupid cauldron of Amortentia Slughorn showed to their class. Pumpkin juice, parchment, that smell of the outdoors in the summer, that broom closet and his dumb, fancy cologne. She stared over at his own blank face, wondering what it smelled like to him, or even if it did at all. 

He stayed stone-faced every time she caught sight of him, seemingly not even realising how much she’d begun to stare at him whenever she got the chance. She’d noticed how he’d begun to change. That usual smug expression had faded to something a lot less confident, and she’d be lying if she said she hadn’t noticed how much paler he’d seemed to have gotten. 

She couldn’t help but feel worried for him, but she didn’t even know if she should care. 

It clearly meant nothing… right?

But yet again, she couldn’t control herself. She found herself writing to him on a spare bit of parchment, quill shaking in her grasp.

Malfoy,

I need to see you. (She’d then scribbled through ‘I can’t stop thinking about you.’) Meet me at that same spot in the courtyard, right after lunch, next Hogsmeade weekend.

- Y/N.

She’d folded it up and taken it to the Owlery right before breakfast, fastening it to the leg of one of the many school owls. She’d watched as it had flown into the Great Hall that morning, and as it dropped her letter into his lap. She watched him intently, but yet again, he was silent, barely eating anything on the table in front of him. Her heart sank, but she forced herself to keep going with her work. 

***

That day arrived and Y/N couldn’t help but feel optimistic about it. She’d spent those few lone hours between breakfast and lunch reminding herself of every moment they’d shared, every time their lips had met, every- 

She felt herself come back down to reality. He’s not going to be there. He’s probably off doing whatever it is he gets up to these days.. don’t even see him in the corridors much anymore.. I wonder.. She sighed. He’s probably with Parkinson. 

She made herself go down for lunch, even though she couldn’t stop looking across the hall in search of that lanky idiot. She scarfed down her meal and left the hall, carrying a glass of cold pumpkin juice again. She walked through the courtyard, and couldn’t help but think about how similar it was to that one day.. all that had changed was the weather. 

A steady autumn breeze blew onto her face as she took a sip from her glass, staring around at the reddening leaves falling from the trees around her. She tried to take the same path she did that very day, but before she knew it, stumbled on something and felt herself slipping forwards.

She groaned and braced herself for her fall, stretching her hands out in front of her, but suddenly felt someone grip her waist and pull her back onto her feet. 

“Can’t seem to watch your feet, can you, Y/L/N?” drawled out a certain someone. She turned almost instantaneously, hands over his on her waist. She looked up at him, silent as she looked over his face. 

Close up, everything seemed all the worse. His eyes seemed red at the rims and puffy. His face was obviously even more pointed and thin. His usually wellkept hair seemed stringy. He looked over at her face with his eyes narrowed as if he was very bored at the sight of her. “Cat got your tongue?” He remarked, slowly drawing his hands back as they grew jittery at her touch. “You’re the one who called me here, you know? I deserve some kind of explanation.”

She took a shallow breath, looked to the side, then back up at him. “Well.. I.. I.. I’ll.. “ Draco was now looking at her with some perplexity in his expression. “I’ll be frank with you, alright? I haven’t been able to.. been able to stop thinking about you.” She surveyed his face for some kind of reaction, but he remained unreadable. “All summer. It’s just.. I don’t know. Ever since we.. since that time in the broom closet. You’re all that I can think about. You probably haven’t even given it a second thought.. but.. I guess I just needed to know.” She gulped. “Did it mean anything? Or have you.. have you moved on, with Pansy?” 

He almost scoffed, lifting his hand up dismissively, but instead he just looked at her with that same blank expression. “Pansy? She’s just a friend.. she fancies Blaise. She wanted to get him jealous and I didn’t mind the..” He took a deep breath and smiled almost reluctantly at her. “It did mean something. Us. But, not anymore. I have.. responsibilities now. I don’t have time for this anymore. Good day.” 

He walked off without another word, running a hand through his hair, but instead of his usual confident stride, he paced off nervously with his eyes fixed on the floor beneath him. She felt that same rush of curiosity, practically a need to know what was behind those stormy grey eyes. She wanted to call out his name, wanted him to look back at her, but couldn’t move a muscle.

She wished she could have taken Pansy’s place. She wished he could tell her what it was that was troubling him so much. She wished so much that she could be his. But she knew, deep within, that none of these wishes could ever come close to coming true.