#from what i’ve heard it seems like the activities are more engaging than the main story

[whoredmode]

i feel like i wanna play the reboot but i don’t wanna actually play the story like it just looks fun to run around in.

#from what i’ve heard it seems like the activities are more engaging than the main story #one day i’ll play it i swear. sooner rather than later too #and i will absolutely give it a fair shot #tbh i like to think santo ileso still Exists in-universe. just down in NV so it has no actual bearing on the story y’know #it has to still exist bc where else are anteros and troy gonna run off to in the non-canon ending of the LoP story

[emjiroki]

Prince Shoto x Court lady Reader

Warnings: Tense Family dynamics, Mentions of sickness/mutilation, lots of love

When you first got to the castle you assumed helping the kitchen staff clean and set the table was a part of your duties so when the Queen asked what you were doing as you took the tablecloth from one of the staff to spread across the grand table, you had said you were helping. That was the first time you had ever heard the Queen laugh. She had waved you on and said not to worry, that the “staff would tend to everything”, and that Princess Fuyumi was your only concern and the reason you were allowed to stay there in the first place. Being an attendant to the princess meant taking on any task to help her, and make her life easier. So joining Fuyumi at dinner had always been set in stone, never a request, having the person she could confide in like a diary seeing the display she endured only made things easier.  

Dinner time with the Todoroki family was always somewhat of a chilly event; the King and Queen actively avoiding gazes and only speaking to their children or snapping at the standing staff around them to refill their cups. Things were much more lively when the two eldest sons were still around, from what Fuyumi had told you due to it being before you had arrived, everyone seemed to smile a little more and breathe a little easier with the boisterous banter clogging the what are now long silences. Even with the Queen chattering away about the plans for Fuyumi’s engagement ball, the tension was still palpable; ever-present like a beast temporarily satiated by sacrifice. 

“I’ve sent invitations through two kingdoms, I just know this will be the event of the season,” Rei gushed, one of her attendants beside her filling her glass. 

“Why must we have these grand parties? Isn’t the announcement of a Royal engagement enough?” Shoto asked, slowly getting tired of hearing about these plans. 

“No Shoto. Of course, it isn't enough. This is an important moment for your sister,” Rei snipped, her dark gray eyes mirroring his right,  “her moment to step out into society as the future Queen of the Iida clan, you should be happy for her”.

“Of course, I’m happy for her,” Shoto insisted looking to his sister to see he had not upset her, that their mother had already made her prickle in her skin, shifting uncomfortably in her chair. “I just don’t see the point in some grand show that isn’t even about her, but showing off”. 

“That’s enough Shoto,” King Enji said sternly, making you tense in your seat next to Fuyumi at the sound of his voice. Even two seats away from him the rumbling baritone made your bones rattle in their sockets. You ate quietly, keeping your eyes on your plate to avoid any unwarranted questions or comments in your direction. Another tactic that you’ve found works wonders within this family.

“Have you ever asked her what she wants? You’re already marrying her off with no knowledge of this man, no thoughts of how he could treat her or what his assets bring for her. I feel as if she should get some say-”

“She does!” the response was sharp, almost aggressive in its insistence and just barely keeping her composure under a thin layer of ice, “and his assets have been looked into. He’s going to be the king of a very prosperous kingdom and that will be more than enough”.

“Of course, money is always your main motivation,” Shoto said begrudgingly, his foot shooting to tap yours under the table.

“We’ve made an excellent choice for her, just like we will for you,” Enji said with finality in his tone. Shoto tensed, the smell of burning cotton permeating the air as the cloth napkin in his left-hand burst into flames. One of the attendants scrambled to extinguish it, a water jug in hand even as it burned to ashes and fell away to the floor, Shoto apologizing quietly to them even as he fixed his father with a scathing glare, an irritated sound escaping past his bitten tongue. You nudged his foot back under the table, flashing him a quick look before dropping your gaze again. You didn’t notice the Queen arch her brow, lips turned to a frown and poised as if she wanted to comment but the heavy sound of the King’s cup hitting the table had her recoiling, deciding it best not to set him off any further. The remainder of dinner was quiet, Shoto staying tight-lipped and Fuyumi only speaking up once or twice to ask her Mother to pass her one of the dishes across the table. As soon as Enji had left his chair, the prince was up too, not sparing anyone a second glance as he stormed from the dining room. You audibly heard the Queen mutter something about “Men” under her breath.

“Fuyumi, I suggest you retire for the evening,” Rei said as she put her napkin down onto her plate, “Lots of plans for tomorrow”.

“Yes Mother,” Fuyumi said quietly, barely even looking up at her before excusing herself from the table.

“Goodnight your Highness, sleep well,” You said as you rose from the table, a shiver bringing goosebumps across your skin as she regarded you coldly, like she was hoping for you to drop dead at her feet. You curtsied with a hammering heart before following quickly after the princess, wanting nothing more than to be as far from the Queen as possible.

The moon was high as you shut your door quietly behind you, finally able to sneak out to the gardens with everyone but the night guards sleeping. The stone floors beneath your feet were cool from the balmy breeze flowing through the open windows, moonlight shining through in patchy streaks that shadowed you as you moved past the princess's room and down the stairs. You ducked just behind the curve of a doorway when you heard soft voices and footsteps, two of the guards having a discussion farther down the hall before turning out of your sight. 

You waited only a moment longer before rushing to the door leading to the gardens. The distant hooting of an owl greeted you as soft grass prickled against your feet, the soft sound of the breeze through the hedge leaves masking your footsteps as moved from the view of the door and windows. 

“I have no reason to be surprised by their lamentable attitudes, but they continue to leave me utterly speechless” Shoto muttered from where he leaned against the tree, one foot up with his arms crossed against his chest. The vest he had been wearing earlier was now discarded on the ground beside him, only the white cotton shirt hanging loose from where it had been tucked in, his clothing displaying the dishevelment of his mind better than the masked calm look on his face.

“I spoke with Fuyumi before seeing you this afternoon, while we fitted the dress for the ball, she seemed perfectly fine. Excited even” You said, walking up beside him and uncrossing his arms to take his hand. He gripped yours tighter and pulled you into his chest, circling his arms under yours around your back. 

“Do you think she’s nervous?” He asked quietly, concern lacing his tone. 

“Of course, who wouldn’t be nervous about their wedding day?” you replied, skimming the softness of his throat with your nose. He hummed a contented sigh under your touch.

“Me, because I would be marrying you and I would be the happiest man on earth”. Your cheeks heated, heart thumping rapidly as your hands tightened in his shirt.

“Why must you say such sweet things when you know they can not be true,” You whispered, breath hitching to stave away the tears. 

“Of course they can, they are true. The deepest truth a man can have” He said, holding you tighter. You pulled away slightly, wanting the space to look him in the eyes. 

“You’ve known you’d be betrothed to someone of your parent's choosing since you were a child,” You said dolefully.

“When have I ever cared what they wanted?” He implored, trying to hold you as you moved away from him. 

“It’s for your future-”

“There is no future for me without you!” Shoto burst, pulling you back around to face him, his eyes shining with unshed tears and fury, “You can’t expect me to live if I don’t have you by my side”. 

“I expect you to do what’s best for your kingdom, it’s your birthright Shoto”. It hurt so much to try and push him away, the sound of your heart breaking nearly audible in the face of his dismay. He was quiet for a moment, his hand holding yours with bated breaths. 

“Have I miss interpreted our companionship? Do you not care for me as I do you?” He said in almost a whisper, as though if he spoke too loudly the words would be true. 

“Of course I do, but I know the limitations of what our relationship can be, what someone of my standing can achieve,” You put a finger over his mouth as he opened to speak, “I will move on with your sister to her married kingdom and be with her, as she wants.  And you will go on to rule the Todoroki Kingdom like your father and his father before him”. ‘Without me’ it was said silently with only your eyes. 

“We shouldn’t condemn ourselves to such a fate with so little to hold it true,” He asserted, pulse thrumming like the wings of a bird through his lips as you move your hand away, only to be caught and held close to his chest, “as if that future is set”.

“It is. In the stars,” You said, leaning just slightly closer as if any inch from him were agony.

“As are we, carefully aligned in perfect harmony together, I know it. I feel it,” Shoto insisted, his grip on your hands never faltering as he too drew himself closer to your parted lips, “Do not cast me aside like I mean nothing, am nothing, to you. Do not freeze your heart of me and leave me without a purpose”. Your mouth was dry, unlike your eyes, in the face of his impassioned admittance. You could only pull each other in, lips a breath away from each other as hands gripped like lifelines until you both paused at the sound of footsteps.

“So this is where you go off to so late,”. The Queen’s voice was icy, chilling you down to the bone even on the warm late summer night. It was like your heart had jumped into your throat, choking off any sound you would have made as Shoto stepped forward slightly, angling his body in front of yours as if to shield you. It was silent, the moment so tense it was like a drawn bowstring, even the frogs and crickets going quiet.

“Mother I love her,” Shoto said, his jaw tight as he stared her down.

“Obviously you don’t know what love is or what it means if you are willing to do this to your family” She scoffed with a roll of her dark eyes.

“And you do?” He asked, an almost demanding tone surfacing past the anxiety causing him to shake lightly beneath your fingers still holding his arm, “Have you and father ever truly loved each other?”. 

“Do not speak to me that way Shoto. And Do not speak of matters you do not understand,” She hissed, the usually private almost stoic face she presented cracking and revealing that he had hit a nerve, “What you are doing is wrong. You know it is”.

“There is nothing wrong with loving the woman I will marry”. 

Rei looked as if her head would pop, cheeks growing flush from her gasping intake of breath. 

“Do you realize what you are saying?” She asked hands balling into fists at her side, “You are willing to condemn an entire line of flame users to disgrace. Your Father? Touya?” 

“DON’T” Shoto shouted, your hand tightening on his arm to keep him steady from moving towards her, “Do not use Touya’s name to shame me. Not when you and father were the ones to seal his fate”. Another gasp from the Queen drew your eyes to her face, stone hues glimmering with unshed tears. She cast her gaze to the grass beneath her shoes, A deep breath seemingly rattling through her lungs. 

“I’ve never forgiven myself or your father for what happened to your brother, how careless we were when he was sick, but we tried to stop him from destroying himself” Her voice was little more than a whisper and you could tell Shoto was just barely hanging on, his knees beginning to shake as he held steady. You knew he was remembering back when Touya had fallen ill due to the flame powers ravaging his body and then not long after that he too was made to drink the Elixir and had suffered permanent damage. The Elixir, made from harvesting a vile of the fire King’s blood and crushing lava rock to mix in a blessed mortar and pestle made from stone of a dragon’s cave, had only ever been granted to the Royal family whose body could withstand the change, or at least should have been able to. The after-effects of the powers on Touya’s body had never been seen before. Anytime he had tried to train the power he had been granted after going through the pain of the transformation, his skin would blister; charring and breaking open to bleed scalding blood. Touya had begged his parents to keep letting him try and get used to the fire, how him coughing up rags full of blood wasn’t an issue and he was fine. The King and Queen refused, arguing that it was far too dangerous and that he couldn’t rule the kingdom with his condition so it was better for him to step down from his crowned position. But then Touya refused, continuing to train and attempt to wield the powers before eventually falling into a coma from the internal damage and then passing away one autumn night in his sleep. Fuyumi had told this all to you last year on the anniversary of his death when you had accompanied her to the graveyard to put flowers on his tombstone, how much it had rattled the foundation of their family. 

“I know you don’t,” Shoto said with a withering sigh after the pause filled with the Queen’s crying whimpers as tears spilled down her cheeks and the sound of your blood rushing in your ears, “But can’t you see that you will lose another child, the only son you have left if you force me to leave her?”. Rei fixed her dark eyes on him as if really seeing him for the first time.

“So you’ll cast everything aside? For her?” She asked with an unreadable calmness in her tone, the waterworks halting in their tracks. You felt a cold chill roll down your spine.

“I would take my own life before I lived a day without her,” He said with certainty as solid as granite that shook you to the core. The Queen didn’t speak for a good minute, your heart thumping so loud it seemed as if it was outside of your body making noise in the open silence. 

“Fine,” Rei said so suddenly you jumped, “If you really want to do this, have it your way”. Shoto relaxed just a little, not stepping away from you. It felt wrong, as if she wasn’t agreeing. Like this was the bait in the trap. 

“Truthfully?” He asked the edge in his voice trusting and desperate to believe her.

“Wholly and truly. Do what you want,” She said looking straight at you this time, her eyes burning through yours like she was trying to set you on fire before turning back to him, “But don’t think you are exempt from consequences”. Rei was gone as quick as she came, storming out of the garden and back through the doors from the apparent slam. Shoto didn’t move for a moment and neither did you, the only sound was your shared breathing and then slowly the sounds of the night began to creep back in as if everything had been holding its breath. 

“I need to go,” You said with a shaky tone fighting tears from spilling down your cheeks, moving around him to try to rush away to your room, to try and think for a while.

“Please don’t,” He pleaded, clasping your hand in his and pulling you to a stop, “Let’s leave. Right now, please go with me”. 

“Shoto-” you started, getting cut off by him spinning you around so you were facing him and pulling you close.

“Please just go with me. Run away from here and leave it all behind like a bad dream and start over. Please” He said almost brokenly, resting his forehead against yours with his hands gripping your waist. You lifted your hands to his face, cupping his jaw and drawing his face to yours, tears running as your lips finally connected. It felt just as you had always imagined, warm and engrossing, stealing every thought from you and sending sparks through your chest. How many times had you thought about this? Picture perfect in your mind, under different circumstances of course. 

“You’re not thinking clearly Shoto, we can't leave. Not now” You said quietly as you pulled away, his hands holding you close as he chased your lips. His breath caught in his throat, his chest tightening as he fought to keep the tears at bay but he finally nodded.

“Y-you’re right, we need time. A plan" he breathed. Releasing his hold on you allowed you to step away, taking a shaky breath of your own. You wanted him to think, to not let his heart run away with his mind. 

"I need to go now before she sends any guards," you said as he simply nodded. It would be a while before he retired to bed himself, you could tell just by the way he was so quiet. He took your hand in his quickly, flipping it palm up to press his lips there and leave the sensation behind.

“To carry my love with you,” He said in such a defeated tone that he sounded tired, weary, but he let you go. You turned and made your way to the castle without another word, leaving him to the moonlight and the crickets.

#prince shoto todoroki #prince shoto todoroki x court lady reader #shoto todoroki x reader #Where You Belong #em talks 👄 #em writes ✍

[ikosburneraccount]

I’m the anon from earlier, thanks for correcting your mistake. I understand you didn’t realize what happened but the fact that you owned up to it means a lot because most blogs would’ve blocked me out of cowardice. It’s nice to see someone else standing up against the racism in this fandom especially from big blogs like IS (who really butchers asian culture in her writing, btw, idk why we’re letting yt people write fanfic in this fandom.) i’ve been in fandom spaces for 10 years now and as far as racism goes TLC is by far the worst considering most people still don’t even accept that the MC is asian. I’ve hated TS for years for her casual racism and the white supremacy themes/narrative implicit in her music and the fact that this fandom idolizes her is disappointing, but not surprising. No, Cinder would not listen to a deeply bigoted woman who openly and unapologetically condones violence against black women and hates jewish people. TS is more like Levana than any other tlc character. Anyways thank you again for taking me srsly and correcting your mistake.

OFC ANON!!!! Your ask was so informative and held me accountable (and let me know that some Swiftie blogs could still engage with my posts without my knowledge/consent). I will definitely be moving forward differently because of your ask, thank you so so so much <3

I don't block anons but I do delete anon hate from Swifties. And I KNOW the Tumblr culture that you're talking about, I've also been here for a while (10 years now). But I want to subvert that culture with my blog and with how I respond to my asks. I would rather take the time to respond and explain than be reactive, because 1) being reactive doesn't reflect well on me and the point I'm trying to make and 2) Engaging with anons with a thoughtful response makes them feel respected and validated regardless if we agree or not. I never want people to feel stupid, ignorant, or dumb by my responses, and that is never my intention as well.

Thank you for acknowledging and feeling the same way about the fandom racism. I do feel a bit isolated and lonely sometimes knowing a majority of the fandom are TS fans, but I remember that I would rather get 0 interactions on a post then engage with racists. And anons like you only validate my point that I'm not the only person who feels this way, I'm just the most vocal. I'm genuinely happy you feel seen and heard and feel this blog is a safe space to talk about fandom racism, because I do want people to ultimately feel safe as TLC fans of color to come and talk to me about how they feel. Despite being a small fandom, we still need safe spaces like this as we, tlc fans of color, can feel/have felt alienated by the overwhelming white presence of this fandom.

(And I think it speaks for itself when, after I blocked all swifties following my page, a majority of people who still follow me are other people of color.)

Talking about TS means talking about racism and people seem to elide the fact that I am hurt by their continued support for TS. Like that's the main point of racism, you're engaging in a power dynamic that reinforces the marginalize and violence towards marginalized and exploited communities. People don't understand that being born as and existing as a person of color is a political statement that we cannot evade but actively informs and filters our lives. And when people engage with open racists like TS, it reinforces the marginalization of people of color.

TLC racism is on a different level, but then again, this is the same fandom that where cresswell, a relationship between a 16 and 20 y/o is its second biggest ship :/ Like clearly people don't care about anyone they hurt as long as they can ship their faves. And yes, the race wars when it comes to Cinder racial/ethnic background are INSANE. It really has to do with the fact that a majority of white women see Y/A heroines as their self insert so Cinder not being white disrupts this assumptions and it's the same reason Cress is so popular. I was active in the TLC fandom back in 2014-16 and there was so much discourse about Cresswell (p*d* ship discourse) and about Cinder's race/ethnicity. I 100% agree with you that TLC fandom is one of the WORST fandoms in YA because of their extreme racism towards the Cinder and other main characters (the way I tear up when I see Black!Annabeth fan art being celebrated...why can't people here act correctly sometimes 😭).

I thought IS is Asian(Chinese)-Australian? Please correct me if I'm wrong though, I was just under this impression from how they responded to asks on their blog. If they're actually not Asian/Chinese-Australian I'm actually even more disgusted with their fanfiction now. But it also explains a lot.

"I’ve hated TS for years for her casual racism and the white supremacy themes/narrative implicit in her music and the fact that this fandom idolizes her is disappointing, but not surprising."

Anon you have NO idea how much I want to be your friend right now. YOU PUT HOW I FEEL PERFECTLY INTO WORDS. This is the EXACT issue I have with TS and why she attracts such racist, bigoted fans while still appealing to her liberal fanbase. She encodes her music with white supremacist messaging and simultaneously posits herself as liberal by perverting feminist ideology to deflect accountability for the harm she's caused. She is the PERFECT white woman because she straddles the apolitical white line to maximize her (white) fanbase. She's an evil person but a commercial and marketing genius, and because white supremacy reinforces the paradigm that wealth equates to good moral character, TS is consistently defended as a good person when she literally isn't. At all.

So that's why my original response to your ask was really weird because I couldn't tell if you were pro/anti-TS but still answered anyways just in case, you know? I'm glad to know that you aren't pro-TS and there are other people recognize the racist and white supremacist undertones of her music.

"No, Cinder would not listen to a deeply bigoted woman who openly and unapologetically condones violence against black women and hates jewish people."

If TS existed in the third era she would be bigoted towards cyborgs and lunars, point blank period. People thinking the TLC main characters would be swifties or love TS is 100% a projection of their whiteness (or delusional, or both) and basic misunderstanding of how PoC face and deal with overwhelmingly popular racist white artists. Also, I have so many thoughts on calling the Lunar people "the Lunar race" in both canon and fandom. That's definitely MM's whiteness not fully understanding how race is constructed and her white vision of a post-racial futuristic society. I could speak about that for hours (but that isn't the purpose of this post).

Also you aren't being dramatic with the TS Levana comparison. That's spot on: she literally manipulates people with her victim narrative despite being 33 years old and is able to make people forget the harm she causes with the amount of content she produces. TS since her debut has never taken direct accountability for her racist actions (like the antisemitic 2009 MTV photo where she poses with a guy wearing a swatstika t-shirt and her PR team justified the photo as her "not knowing." She was FIFTEEN).

I can literally write a completely separate post linking every single article by topic of all the racist and suspicious actions she's done and taken both as an artist and person, but this is a TLC blog and I want to focus on TLC content first. This isn't a dig towards you, nanny; this is just me saying I cannot be 100% responsible for educating people on TS racism, because it is a lot of emotional and time-intensive labor.

I hope this post makes sense. This was super heavy and took me a couple hours to write because you brought up so many brilliant points and I wanted to breakdown a proper response. Seriously, this has been my favorite ask so far. Anon, you are now my friend!

#the lunar chronicles #yes im tagging it there because it actually deals with the series #mine #ask #holy shit this took everything out of me #but this is seriously a perfect succinct description of everything im upset about w this fandom and TS #thank you for being brilliant anon #anti taylor swift

[carewyncromwell]

“Good day, everyone. It seems that we, once again, are on the cusp of that most wondrous time of year -- the Feast of Christmas. 

“I am called Bartholomew -- or more commonly just ‘Bat’ -- Varney...and this time of year is by far my favorite of the lot. To mark this occasion, my ‘mundane’ has once again given me access to her ‘Askbox,’ so that I may discuss aspects of this wonderful holiday with you, her followers, whether through historical lectures, editorials, or even lively debates. She encourages you to consult the ‘Bat Comments on Christmas!’ tag to see my previous entries to this series, to like and reblog these posts if you find them engaging and interesting, and to send in other holiday-related Asks to me, if you wish to see more. I was born in the mid-18th century and currently occupy what my mundane calls the ‘HPHL’ and ‘Fantastic Beasts’ timelines, but I have also been given access to the Fourth Wall, so that I can discuss aspects of Christmas Yet to Come as well.”

The single best aspect of Christmas is the fascinating way it has changed and will continue to change.

[Bat replaces the spent Blood Pop in his mouth with a new one with a grin that shows off his sparkling white fangs.]

“...Our subject today, appropriately enough, actually regards Christmases Yet to Come, as well as those of the Past and Present. Yes, my friends, it is time we discuss my favorite novel of all time, which arguably changed how Christmas is celebrated more than any other piece of text ever written -- Charles Dickens’s immortal classic, A Christmas Carol.

“Now, for those of you who have grown up with Christmas as a holiday, and even for many who haven’t, it would be silly to go into a full summary of the tale. It’s such a popular and well-adapted story, even back in my own era, that even those who haven’t read Dickens’s novel are familiar with it, simply through cultural osmosis...and from what I understand, over time, it’s only become more widespread. But truly, we’re not going to delve too deeply into the story of miser Ebenezer Scrooge, who initially scoffs at the thought of giving back to his fellow men and treating his employees and associates kindly around Christmas, before he’s haunted by three spirits who teach him the true meaning of the season. Instead, I’d like to talk more about the book’s publication, its themes, and ultimately why it both is a perfect time capsule of the up-and-coming Christmas fads of the mid-1800′s and ultimately came to popularize and set in stone customs we still associate with Christmas today. 

“Charles Dickens was a celebrity of his day. Originally the man had no concept of what he wanted to do with his life -- he even once considered a life on stage as an actor -- but writing truly ended up being his calling. First finding success as a journalist, Dickens then became famous across Britain when he wrote The Pickwick Papers and Oliver Twist. Even her Majesty the soon-to-be Queen Victoria was purportedly enamored with them. Unfortunately Dickens’s success ended up being a double-edged sword. John Dickens would frequently use his son’s fame as leverage to borrow money, only for Charles to have to frequently come to his rescue when John couldn’t pay the lenders back. And with his family still growing (three going on four, at that time), Dickens had to keep the money rolling in, in order to pay for his family’s lifestyle. They were part of what was called the ‘middling sort,’ or the ‘middle class,’ as I’ve heard it more frequently called, which had only just started to form about a century prior, as education and land ownership became more widespread in Europe and America. Just a century ago, that ‘middle class’ had been the main force behind the American and French Revolutions and the Enlightenment ideals that argued against the superiority of kings and nobles over the common Man -- now most of their members were trying to find comfort and contentment in their new status as the ‘petit bourgeoisie.’ But there was still activism and fresh ideas to be found in their ranks, if one were to look carefully.

“The wide publication of books via printing presses and that subsequent increased access to education and knowledge fueled a new appreciation for history in 19th century Europe. Not too long ago, as I’ve discussed previously, Christmas had been banned in England, only for that idea to blow up spectacularly in the Puritans’ faces. And well, with England having lost their foothold in the American colonies and having spent even more years and money warring with France under the leadership of Napoleon Bonaparte before finally defeating him soundly at Waterloo, there was a new sense of nostalgia in England for when their country was great and prosperous...namely, the Renaissance, under the rule of Queen Elizabeth I. The arts became more reputable and profitable again after the likes of Oliver Cromwell had tried to shut down theaters en masse; investment in new technologies and sciences were promoted, sparking an Industrial Revolution in England; and holidays of the Tudor era were reinvented for a new generation, including -- you guessed it -- Christmas. 

“But Christmas, as celebrated in Tudor England, was a very bawdy, raucous, messy affair. A public outdoor festival punctuated by drinking and debauchery didn’t really suit the ‘proper’ attitudes of the Victorian-era middle class. So, just as we always have with Christmas since the beginning, old traditions were attempted, adapted, and -- in some cases -- flat-out made up. One such tradition I’ve discussed previously that was likely completely fabricated around this time is the act of kissing under mistletoe. Other fads that were ultimately discarded was putting fruitcake under your pillow -- replaced with just eating it at holiday gatherings -- and wearing animal-themed costumes -- which I would argue was just shifted over to our celebration of holidays like Halloween. Even the idea of electing a ‘Lord of Misrule’ -- an aspect of the holiday I always enjoyed as a boy, which was also very popular back in the Elizabethan era -- didn’t last, under the Victorians. But still, these new twists on old traditions -- caroling at people’s doorsteps; hosting parties with friends and family; playing parlor games; exchanging presents; decorating the house with mistletoe, holly, and evergreen trees; eating lots of good food -- would become very fashionable among this new middle class and how they celebrated Christmas. And with the arrival of more Romantic ideals in Europe at the turn of the 19th century, the concept of children being evocative of innocence rather than sin became much more mainstream. This then prompted middle-class parents to want to make the old bawdy Feast of Christmas more family-friendly and to use some of their new wealth to give both themselves and their children some joy during the holiday season. 

“Dickens, like many members of the Victorian middle class, loved Christmas and the new fashionable ways it was being celebrated. Considering the man also greatly disdained organized religion, as well, it’s not entirely surprising he enjoyed the secular trappings that encouraged joy and extravagance without making it too focused on the church. But Charles Dickens didn’t just think Christmastime should be a time for the middle class to indulge for themselves. The true inspiration behind his novel A Christmas Carol ultimately ended up being Dickens witnessing the horrific conditions child workers suffered through in the new Victorian factories he saw in England, including the Cornish Tin Mines. He became convinced that something had to be done to combat the poverty and injustice he saw in the streets, and he ultimately thought that a story about Christmas might be a more palatable way to deliver that message to the mass public, including other members of the middle class, than a mere article would. And so Dickens partnered the Victorian fad of indulgence with social activism...which, ironically enough, perfectly adapted another tenant of Christmas back in my day, as well as its progenitor celebration of Saturnalia -- the redistribution of wealth. Whether Dickens realized it at the time or not, he had adapted the core of Christmas for a new generation -- this time, not by the poor having to beg or threaten the rich at their doors for their best food and drink, but by the new middle class and the wealthy being compelled by civic duty to give back to the needy willingly. 

“A Christmas Carol was an instant success. Thousands of copies were sold all over England from the moment it first hit shelves on December 19th, 1843, with the entire first run being sold out by Christmas Eve of that year and twelve more editions being published by the end of the following year. It is by far Dickens’s most well-known, read, and beloved novel, and it has only become more popular over time. And yet, in his day, Dickens didn’t enjoy the profits he probably should’ve from A Christmas Carol, after all his efforts. Part of this is because of how much money he invested into the publication of his manuscript. Dickens envisioned his book as something that should be bought and given as a Christmas present, and so spared no expense in making each book a work of art. The books were bound in red cloth, printed on gilt-edged pages, with hand-painted illustrations. All of this took a big chunk out of Dickens’s profits. Another problem, however, was that this expensive binding was the only way the book was published, which made it so that many poorer people who wanted to read this new book written by the great Charles Dickens about the virtue of giving to the poor didn’t have the five shillings needed to buy it. And this is why a lesser publisher ultimately plagiarized the novel, condensing it somewhat and printing it much more cheaply without permission, so as to cash in on those who couldn’t afford the full, official manuscript. Dickens later took that publisher to court for copyright infringement and won, but the whole affair still hurt his profit margin. 

“Even so, A Christmas Carol’s legacy is undeniable, and many of the Christmas traditions we love most today -- mere passing fads of Dickens’s era -- were popularized because of this very well-received and circulated little book. Christmas cards and gifts. Games and toys. Caroling. Childhood innocence. Christmas trees. Eating turkey, pies, and warm chestnuts for Christmas dinner. Giving to the poor. Even just the concept of the ‘holiday spirit,’ of ‘good will toward men’ -- of hope and charity, in the midst of the cold and hunger of winter. The ritual of taking time off work specifically just to celebrate at home with your loved ones, rather than go to church or go out drinking in the streets. All of this is what Christmas is all about in the minds and hearts of so many...but it wasn’t, until Charles Dickens wrapped all of these ideas up in a neat little package and gave it to the world, in the form of a manuscript he had to finish in less than six weeks and yet clearly put so much heart and soul into.”

[Bat removes the spent pop from his mouth. He reaches into the inside of his waistcoat, taking a sip of blood from his pewter flask. Then, clearing his throat, he puts the flask down and then reaches into the other side of his waistcoat, out of which he fetches out a very small, leather-bound copy of A Christmas Carol -- a present from someone, no doubt.]

“...And so...to close this out...let me quote one of my personal favorite sections of the novel. It’s a part of the story far less quoted than the infamous ending, but it’s a passage I’ve always found so striking, and one I think similarly embodies the beauty of Dickens’s work...”

[Bat opens his tiny copy of the manuscript and reads:]

“‘A small matter,’ said the Ghost, ‘to make these silly folks so full of gratitude.’

“‘Small!’ echoed Scrooge. 

“The Spirit signed to him to listen to the two apprentices, who were pouring out their hearts in praise of Fezziwig: and when he had done so, said, 

“‘Why! Is it not? He has spent but a few pounds of your mortal money: three or four perhaps. Is that so much that he deserves this praise?’

“‘It isn’t that,’ said Scrooge, heated by the remark, and speaking unconsciously like his former, not his latter, self. ‘It isn’t that, Spirit. He has the power to render us happy or unhappy; to make our service light or burdensome; a pleasure or a toil. Say that his power lies in words and looks; in things so slight and insignificant that it is impossible to add and count ‘em up: what then? The happiness he gives, is quite as great as if it cost a fortune.’”

[Bat looks up from his book with another fanged grin as he takes another sip of blood from his flask.]

“...Happy Christmas to you all.”

((OOC: HAPPY BATMAS!! 🎄🥰 Yes, friends, for all this month and next, Bat had free reign over the Askbox to chat Christmas with you all! Please consider sending in Asks, or of course, just liking/reblogging my entries to this series! It’s truly so much fun to work on, and I’m so thrilled to do some more fun installments to it this year!))

#bat comments on christmas! #bartholomew varney #roleplaying #christmas #a christmas carol #hphl #hogwarts legacy #history #harry potter

[hotsugarkrp]

jumping on the bandwagon to say i agree with the other anon post and their concerns. i’m reaching out as a mun whose muse has talked to the majority of the rp but only has a handful of dms and interactions weekly. i’ve also heard the same feedback from the few people my muse has talked to, so this may be an issue many are relating to.

i know there isn’t much the admins can do when a lot of socializing happens in DMs; you all are doing the best you can do and i see that and appreciate everything you’ve been doing thus far. from what i’ve been hearing though, it’s pretty daunting to reach out to the admins regarding one or a group of people they may believe are bubble rping because of a lack of proof to back up that claim besides “this person hasn’t replied to me in days but i see them actively posting on their story, main feed, and group chats.” you also don’t want to seem like /that/ person who doesn’t respect a mun’s time while they’re online.

additionally, i don’t know how plausible reaching out about a specific muse is if only one person is reaching out about them. it’s also not like members can reach out to other muses/muns about it either because then that’s gossiping. this is all to say that calling out a person or groups may not be something everyone is comfortable doing. on the other side of the spectrum, some muns may feel overwhelmed with the amount of attention their muse(s) receive, so wagging a finger at them may do more harm than good.

a potential solution could be encouraging mun’s to be more communicative if they’re swamped with interactions, or making a new system similar to the ‘emoji after 3 days for response’ method since many feel a little embarrassed to reply after ghosting for so long, and others do not feel comfortable double (or often triple) replying.

it is such a let down and a huge kick to the confidence when your muse tries to socialize but no one gives them time to get to know them, especially if they don’t have a group to fall back on. so rather than targeting specific people, it might be beneficial to create a system everyone can utilize to avoid people feeling overwhelmed or lonely at hot sugar.

Hi nonny.

Reaching out to us about something like bubble rping isn't as scary as you might think. We as a team are here to listen to you, and we genuinely care about the health of this community. If you think someone is engaging in this sort of exclusive behavior, chances are we as admins have noticed it too! But we like to give people the benefit of the doubt, so unless it's obvious that someone is face hogging or bubble rp'ing, etc, we don't usually initiate an investigation unless one or more of our members reports it directly to the mod account. Because even though we do our best to talk to everyone in the community that we can with our own muses, it very well could be that maybe our muses just don't vibe with theirs or they're interacting with a group of different muses we just haven't gotten a chance to yet.

Which is why we ask our members to come talk to us and report something if they notice it. When we investigate, we look at their public interactions first, like posts, comments, and any presence in public chats. And then, if those give us cause for concern, we approach them and ask them to provide proof that private interactions beyond their group or ship are happening. If our investigation shows that bubble rp'ing is not happening and they just might be behind on their dm's, that's fine! No harm done. Your report will be kept confidential and we can all move on.

At the end of the day, we are a large community and we expect our members to engage with that community in some capacity. Whether it's privately in dm's with people outside of your muse's assumed circle, interacting in public group chats, making genuine comments on posts (more than what's required for your ac), hosting/joining hyperbeams or listening parties, etc. What we're looking for here is the effort to interact with the community. We know it can be daunting for members to reply to a community of over 200, and that's not what we're asking for. But if you're making a genuine effort, we see and encourage that.

We do hear your suggestion, and we always want to encourage our members to be communicative about their ability to interact with others. If you're overwhelmed or just busy irl, post a checkin! If you feel the need to reach out ooc after ghosting for personal reasons, do so! 9/10 times, our members are understanding and happy to move past any awkwardness with a quick and simple apology. But at that point, it's on you to take some responsibility for how you're engaging in the community.

The mod team does what we can to be encouraging, but after getting a wide assortment of asks and messages about selective rping and face hogging, we have to do something about it to keep our community healthy. Unfortunately, that does mean removing some people who aren't interested in being or able to be a part of the community. But if you have ideas on how to encourage members to be more communicative and welcoming, we're all ears! ❤

#hotsugarkrp #asks #ask

[zuluc]

@kookieyachi​ requested: i hate to be that one person but i doubt they'll increase the rate but imma try my best & start saving for zhongli & childe 😼🤚 anYWAY-, i was wondering if u could write another diluc x reader whr they're in a secret relationship (only kaeya knew somehow-) & one of the mcs & paimon heard rumours of diluc having a s/o & decide to follow him, to see him gg on a date w the reader or summ,,, hope its not too confusing haha🥺💖

pairing: diluc x gn!reader

style & genre: written; fluff

warnings: none

notes: i meant rng rates those screw me over when it matters but i hope we get good ones when their banners come in, i wish the best of luck to everyone pulling may we get our dream teams; THIS IS CUTE ty for all your requests you know what’s good 😪😪

the mc in this is aether because i love aether

“I hear someone has Master Diluc’s heart!”

“Is that so?”

“Aw, man! I wanted him...”

It’s been the talk of the town for longer than he expected and wanted it to be: Diluc’s love life. He was always the private one and never shared anything about his personal life so it was only natural that no one, minus Kaeya it seemed, had a clue as to who took Mondstadt’s most wanted bachelor.

“Are they sure he’s even with someone? Isn’t it just a rumor?” Paimon asks her travel companion as they make their way into the tavern for a late night drink. The pair had travelled back to the town for a few days and while walking through they listened in on what the townspeople were gossiping about this time around.

“Not sure, he doesn’t seem like the type. Why not ask him, Paimon?” 

Paimon flies in front of his face and places her hands on her hips, “You don’t just ask him! He’s so secretive and... and well just that! Also, Paimon thinks he’d just avoid the question.”

“You won’t know it’ll work if you never try.” Aether suggests and opens the door to the tavern. He himself actually wanted to know the truth to those rumors because, well think about it, it’s Diluc and any information that made him seem more emotional than he let on was interesting. He steps inside, seeing the people inside drinking and laughing. They all greet him with their cheerful, yet drunk replies, and Diluc nods his head in acknowledgement. 

“Welcome back. What’ll it be for tonight?” He asks them. Aether places his drink order and Paimon hovers over the bartender with a judging look on her face. Convenient that he is working tonight. He raises a brow, “Can I help you?”

“U-Uh,” she turns her attention to Aether who simply looks back at her and sips his apple cider vinegar, a look of you’re on your own for this one on his face. “Have you heard what’s being said around Mondstadt, Master Diluc?” She asks in a way to slowly lead into the main question. Diluc picks up a glass and shakes his head, turning around to place the item on one of the shelves. 

“I’ve never paid attention to gossip if that’s what you’re referring to. And like I’ve said before,” he eyes the emergency ration suspiciously, “I don’t dwell on idle chat.” Those words, while they weren’t intended to be as cold as they sounded, prevented Paimon from pressing on. She pouts while flying, but her gaze lands on his hands. They are void of his usual gloves and Diluc wore them even while working. She brushes it off as a useless observation and the door of the tavern opens. 

“Evening!” Charles greets them. He waves a hand to Diluc who finishes the last of the glasses he is cleaning, silently thanking the bartender for taking the rest of his shift. He walks out the back and Paimon floats up.

“Does he have something else to do? He usually stays for the rest of the night.” She questions Charles who shakes his head in amusement.

“He must be working hard,” Charles comments, “or maybe taking some time for himself.” Paimon perks up at what he says and she looks at Aether. The traveller finishes his drink and narrows his eyes at her.

“What?” He barely gets another word in before she is rushing out the door. “Paimon!” He places mora on the counter and bids Charles a good night before following her. The door swings open and Aether is met with Paimon flying in front of his face.

“We’ll follow him!” She states confidently, a glint in her eyes.

Aether stares at her blankly. “Uh, why?” Again, she doesn’t give him an answer when she sees a flash of red hair behind his head. They keep quiet and hide behind the stone building when they see Diluc look side to side, almost catching them in his sight.

“He’s definitely going somewhere!” She is much more invested in this than Aether thought, but his own curiosity was overpowering the possibility of getting caught by the pyro user as well. He wordlessly agrees and they quietly tread behind him through Mondstadt, hiding behind every pole and wall whenever they thought he believed someone was following him.

Minutes into their mission Aether catches sight of the Knight of Favonius building and his suspicions are raised. Diluc wouldn’t be caught dead near this place, what more just by walking by it? He stops at the side and Aether tugs his hovering companion away from Diluc’s line of sight when it opens, a familiar person stepping out.

“It’s--!”

“Honorary Knight!” Huffman interrupts Paimon’s exclamation as he rushes to the both of them. “Would you be able to help us out near Windrise? Quite a lot of slimes showed up and the other knights are preoccupied with their own missions. I know you just got back but...”

“We’re good!” Another knight shows up, running to them, “Captain Kaeya helped us out!” Aether looks back and forth between then before looking at the door. It seems that the person and Diluc had already left. 

“Ah, I see. Sorry to intrude on your evening.” Huffman excuses himself and leaves with the other knight. Paimon flies towards the empty stairs, floating around premises as if looking for clues.

“Paimon saw y/n! Do you think they’re together?” She questions. 

“Isn’t that too much of an assumption?” Paimon floats to Aether’s face with mock anger on her features. “Maybe they could just be well-acquainted.”

“Let’s just see who’s right then! I bet...” she places a finger to her chin, “...5000 mora!”

“You don’t even carry mora.”

--

The commissions burned you out but you are more than happy to see what awaits you after you leave the building. Bidding Jean goodbye, you settle into your coat and push the doors open. He’s standing there waiting like he said he would and you notice there is no one around, though you had an inkling that someone was watching you. You are broken out of your thoughts when Diluc’s warm hand cups your face. He was initiating more touches after becoming comfortable in your relationship, so you felt happy that he could do so outside though with no one to see.

To you, it was hard to believe that you managed to attract him in the first place, considering his many suitresses, but despite that he insisted that it was you he was after.

“Something the matter?” He asks gently, removing his hand when he could hear steps behind him. You shake your head and smile at him causing his heart to warm at the sight. “Good, shall we?”

Your dates aren’t like the usual ones. You walk around the sides of Mondstadt when everyone is asleep as you both share what has gone on in your day. Sometimes, you even take a stroll outside the city and sit under the large tree in Windrise, watching the stars twinkle. Going on many secret rendezvous were fun and brought an excitement and mystery to both of your lives when they occured. 

But even so, sometimes you wondered what it would be like if the townspeople knew. 

Diluc never explicitly mentioned that he wanted the whole town to know and you both came to the conclusion that keeping your relationship from the public would be beneficial. He was known to be aloof yet protective of Mondstadt. He had a reputation to uphold and the enemies would otherwise have vital information to his weaknesses if they came to know of your connection.

You know he loves you, he tells you every night before you have to part until you see each other the next day. And any doubt in your mind is gone when your hand is held tightly in his.

--

“Paimon, we’ve been following them for too long. They’re just talking.” Aether felt uncomfortable doing what they were doing and spying on the both of you. He watches the both of you engage in a regualr conversation. After losing sight of you at the Knights of Favonious building they glided around trying to track you both. He couldn’t see that your hands were intertwined due to how your coat concealed it. 

“Ahh! Fine, we should go rest,” Paimon says defeatedly, “Paimon can’t believe she lost 5000 mora!” Aether rolls his eyes and jumps down from the roof to head to a nearby inn. The streets are quiet but there are audible footsteps from their right as they move through the houses.

“Hey, it’s nice to see you back in town.” Kaeya greets him with the usual lilt to his voice. “Why are you two still up?”

“We were following Master Diluc because we think he’s seeing someone!” Paimon really has no shame, does she? Aether thinks to himself and he looks up at the Cavalry Captain when the latter lets out a light chuckle. 

“What an interesting activity... I do hope you find your answer,” Kaeya nods his head to direct it behind them. Aether and Paimon follow his direction and see the two they had been trailing for the past hours. “Good night.”

“I almost forgot!” The duo’s ears perk at the sound of your voice. You and Diluc are at the front of your home and their eyes widen at the sight of your hand in his. You reach into your coat pocket to pull out his gloves, “You left them here.”

“Thank you,” Diluc replies, lifting the hand he held to his lips and kissing the back. “Good night, my love.”

“Good night, Diluc.” The smile on your face is ever radiant and he leans down for his kiss. You oblige but pull away to lean closer to his ear, “It seems that we have company.” Your hold leaves him and you open your door, disappearing inside. Diluc turns his head and sees the shocked faces of the traveller and ration. 

“Paimon wins.”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact scenarios #genshin impact headcannons #genshin impact fluff #genshin impact angst #genshin impact imagines #diluc ragnvindr x reader #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr #diluc

[magic-missle-blog]

Ghost division 2 – The belly of the beast

2nd story in what will hopefully be a series. Roughly 6k words. Hope you enjoy

:readmore:

Four missiles streaked through the darkness of space from the canadation destroyer as it smashed through the human battle group.

The warship TDF Glasgow rocked as a missile impacted the hull. Point defence had taken out three others but the fourth slammed into the starboard side.

“Damage report!” the captain shouted as he swivelled his command chair to face the tactical officer.

“The hull plating is scorched and buckled, but no internal damage. We were lucky.” The tactical officer replied, shouting to be heard over the various alarms and beeps in the small bridge.

“We cant rely on luck. If we get hit again its your head!” The captain growled. His hair was cut close to his scalp and a sheen of sweat reflected in the bright yellow light on his dark skin.

Tactical officer Rotchford nodded. Her brow furrowed as she quickly typed into her console. “don’t worry I’m on it, I’ve analysed the firing pattern and I can probably take out most of the missiles, its those fucking fighters and energy weapons I cant do a thing about.”

Just as she finished speaking a swarm of small locust shaped fighters buzzed passed the ship, pelting the armour with energy weapons.

Turrets tracked the fighters, spitting hypersonic tungsten shells. One of the Canidation fighters exploded, the rest of the group took evasive action and continued on the attack run through the human fleet.

The ship rocked again and various alarms clamoured for attention. Lights on the bridge flickered.

Captain Conroy nodded and straightened his uniform. He brought up a tactical display on the console built into his chair.

Five Canidation warships had engaged the fleet of seven Terran defence force destroyers and the humans were loosing badly. The Canidations had the firepower and faster ships. Fighters swarmed over the fleet firing kinetic weapons and lasers, some with great effect.

He watched as another of the fleet exploded. That was the second ship they had lost. The battle had been raging for what felt like hours but in reality it was only 30 minutes. The Canidations had dropped out of hyperspace in this remote system to ambush a Human supply run. The freighters had escaped unharmed but the escort fleet couldn’t leave, not without leaving this Canidation battle group free reign to attack other convoys.

“Shit. That was the Newcastle!” the first officer said “Fleet captain Broadie…he was a good man”

The computer screamed out a proximity warning as another salvo of missiles streaked towards them, but true to her word the tactical officers new point defence programme took them all out. She returned fire with the main cannon as the destroyer elegantly swung around, scoring a direct hit to the Canidations engines. The insectoid ship vented atmosphere and appeared to lose power as running lights flickered out and the ship drifted

The other enemy ships moved towards the remaining fleet.

“Scan that ship, is it dead?” Conroy commanded the science officer as the warship rocked under more impacts

“yeah it appears… Fuck” the science officer said as his console went dark and the lights cut out.

A few moments later the ships emergency power kicked in and the lights came back on, but dull red colour. His console lit up. “ yeah its dead. I think. Scans are all over the place.”

Conroy nodded, as the most senior officer left in the tattered fleet he assumed command.. “signal the fleet. Lets get the fuck out of here...but slowly, I want to draw them away from that damaged ship.” He plotted a course that would take them deep into the Oort cloud of this system.

The remaining ships of the Terran defence force broke off the engagement and retreated. Caught by surprise at the sudden change in tactics, The Canidations stopped dead, recalled the fighters then followed, slowly gaining ground on the slower terran warships.

Glancing at his command console captain Conroy opened fleet wide comms. Signalling the other commanders he said “Listen up people. Once we are in that cloud drop sensor decoys try to buy me some time . I’m going to double back and capture that ship.”

The crew looked at him in astonishment

“Damn” said the first officer. “And I thought today was going to be a quiet day.”

************************************

The war against the Canidations had been raging for 3 months, and the Terran empire was losing.

The Canidations ships were more advanced, and they had the numbers. The only saving grace is that the Canidations were fighting two other larger empires. Humanity, as a relatively new race to the galactic stage, hadn’t been seen as a concern. Almost an afterthought.

No one knew why the war started. Canidations were a reclusive species. They had no trade with the wider galactic community, no embassies, no contact at all. No one really even knew if “Canidation” was their species name. They stayed in their home systems, A group of a dozen or so stars a few light years around the Canadathon, their home world.

A decade ago the Canidations has blasted out of their home system with an over powering military force and attacked a neighbouring world without warning. Everything was a viable target to them and they didn’t take prisoners…or at least they didn’t keep them alive for long.

For ten long years they attacked and destroyed any neighbouring species, expanding their empire. The first races, unused to galactic warfare on such a scale had fallen quickly. Other species had tried to build up their own military force but simply didn’t have the infrastructure in place and couldn’t come close to the Canidations speed of production. It seemed like for every Canidation ship that fell two more would take its place.

The Canidations were an insectoid race, they looked like an unholy amalgamation of a spiders body with a praying mantis torso, like an insect centaur. They didn’t seem to capture any world they won, they destroyed it. Left it a lifeless husk, took any easily accessible resources then moved on like locusts. Maybe they would be back to terraform it later, maybe not. No one knew.

The destruction on such a scale seemed senseless, and completely alien. Not even the best human generals, phycologists or philosophers could come up with a reason for this carnage.

What was known was they had a lot of ships. More than every other military in this region of space combined. They had been building up for decades and it seemed like now was the time to unleash their might.

******************************

The Glasgow had ducked behind a dwarf planet in the Oort cloud and waiting while the remaining fleet had drawn the Canidations away, then used a risky in system jump to get back quickly to the battlefield. They had scanned for survivors of the destroyed Terran ships but unfortunately found plenty of debris but no life signs.

TDF Glasgow slowly drew up alongside the crippled Canidation vessel, comms jammers at full power blocking any communication from the hulk. It had been few hours since the shot had crippled the Bug ship, but it was still drifting without any main power, its engines dark and cooling.

It looked like reserve power had kicked in and there was several Canidations on the main hull close to the breach in what looked like dark space suits, although it could have been their flesh. Conroy didn’t know enough about the species to tell. It was obvious the Canidations were trying to repair the damage.

The insectoid ship was large, at least half again as big as the Glasgow and followed an unorthodox design. It was nothing like the sleek Terran ships, whose lines were reminiscent of the war planes that fought in earth’s skies in the 20th century. Human ships were long and sleek, with swept back retractable wings protruding from the mid section to allow atmosphere flight when fully extended. Canidation was bulky, and looked like a flattened pinecone and close range scans showed it be highly modular.

The bridge appeared to be at on top of the bulky front section. Conroy guessed below this would be weapons, crew quarters and the like. Engineering and the ships drive core, and sub light engines must be located in the tapering end. Cannons clustered around the front with turrets in two rows along the top and bottom of the ship.

Conroy assumed there would be about 60 or so crew on board. Terran destroyers had a crew of 30 plus 10 marines. Not good odds Conroy thought.

“Easy to build, quick to swap different sections out if needed” Science officer McCallum said as he looked over the data.

Conroy nodded to Commander Paulson, the first office. “Pauly, get a boarding party ready. Find any intel you can get your hands on but don’t take any stupid risks. Focus on engineering, medical, ship deployments, shit we can find to kill these things.” Looking at McCallum “what do they need?”

McCallum brought up all the information he had on Canidations, which wasn’t a lot.

“Scans show gravity and life support is still active and the ship has atmosphere, although I use the term loosely. Their air is made up of 30% oxygen, 15% Co2, 10% Hydrogen sulphide, the rest is nitrogen, water vapour and trace gasses. Average temperature is roughly 30 degrees Celsius and humidity is close to 70%. Gravity is low, roughly 0.6G. So basically your walking into a hot sweaty hellhole that’ll smell like Satan’s ass. Enjoy” he finished with a laugh.

Paulson looked at the captain “Gee thanks Boss, you give me all the best jobs. Breathing units all round then.” He saluted as he left the bridge.

“Mac…what killed this ship? Did we get a lucky shot?”

McCallum looked over his reading for a few moments. “Yeah, very lucky. Looks like there is a weakness around the main engine core on this ship. Plasma exhaust has weakened the hull armour in a small area right above the main power linkage, its little better than paper. Must be a design flaw…if that shot had hit even a few meters on either side it wouldn’t have made a dent.”

Rotchford laughed. “luck had nothing to do with it. It’s pure skill.”

She grinned

Conroy rolled his eyes.

“Yeah yeah if you say so” he said grinning. Conroy didn’t mind a bit of banter with the bridge crew. He felt it build camaraderie and they all worked better as a result.

Turning to Macallum he said

“Deep scan this bitch, I see what else you can find, anything that’ll give us an edge.”

From over the other side of the bridge the tactical offer said “Captain, I think I’ve found something too. The missiles on the ship are armed.”

Conroy looked over “So?”

Rotchford brushing her brown bangs that had escaped from the severe bun on her head said “Our missiles auto arm a second after launch to prevent any accidents, these appear to pre arm before launch, Probably as soon as they find a hostile ship. Once direct hit could detonate the entire missile battery. The armour is thick but the launch tubes are vulnerable . “

“Comms” Conroy said excitedly “Tight beam the rest of the fleet and let them know what we’ve found…might give them an edge.”

Turning back to tactical

“Why would they do that?”

Rotchford shrugged. “not sure. It does mean the missiles can be fired much closer then we can shoot. Out missiles travel so fast that by the time they arm they’re a couple of hundred kilometres away, makes them useless for close engagements. By pre-arming them they get around that problem. Makes it almost impossible to shoot them down when the bugs get in close.”

Minutes passed slowly. Soon the boarding party was on board a small ship to ship shuttle and on route to dock with the crippled ship.

The shuttle did a quick fly over the damaged section and fired small arms at the Canidations working on the damaged hull, Killing the repair team. The aliens magnetic grips kept the bodies stuck to the hull like bugs splattered by a windscreen.

McCallum looked up “I’ve found something else captain, it wont help us now but I think we can take advantage of it.”

He put his display on the main screen, All eyes turned to it.

“I thought about using some kind of plasma weapon to weaken the armour of the whole ship, and that’ll probably work, we don’t use plasma tech, but I’m sure the weapons experts back home can build something.” He took a breath “Anyway, that got me thinking, Plasma is basically really hot ionized gas. Its expelled as exhausts right away as too much heat inside the ship it bad. As you know its almost impossible to loose heat in space, so we use active cooling systems to…”

Conroy interrupted before McCallum could go into a lecture on the finer points of starship heat management. “Get to the point”

Mccallum looked sheepish “Sorry sir, anyway, the Canidations seem to use radiator panels, they’re well armoured but vulnerable to excessive heat. A focussed laser beam could overload them. If they cant loose heat they’ll cook inside the ships.”

“Well done Mac, get everything we’ve found so far and bundle the data ready for transmission back to HQ”

Minutes dragged as Mccallum compiled the data.

Everyone was on eggshells, watching the boarding shuttle latch on to the Canidation hull and begin cutting through. Tactical constantly scanning for any Canidation ships that might be inbound. Conroy wondered how the rest of the fleet was fairing. The TDF ships were more manoeuvrable than the larger Canidation warships, so as long as they kept in a dense part of the Oort cloud, dodging comets and dwarf planets then the TDF ships should have an advantage.

*****************************

Inside the shuttle the atmosphere was tense. Paulson looked over the assembled combat team. All had breathing units over their lower faces. The units would filter out the harmful gasses and reduce the oxygen pressure to something breathable, but as they weren’t full space suits or fully sealed Paulson knew the stench would get through, he grinned inwardly he hadn’t told the team what the Canidation air was like, he wanted to see the reactions.

The ten member boarding team all had dark grey combat armour, and each carried a small side arm and a combat knife. Eight also carried an assault rifle with enough ammo to take on a small army, the other two combat engineers carried various tools and computer equipment. Their mission was to hack into any systems they could find and mine it for data.

The shuttle bumped into the hull and latched on. A magnetic tube made an air tight seal around the hatch. It opened to show a sold hull. The engineers immediately started cutting to gain access. It was slow going. Armour that can withstand heavy ship weapons wont easily fail to small plasma torches.

Sargent Waltham stepped up next to Paulson. “We’re ready to go” She said coolly.

Paulson nodded. “Get in and secure the area. Set up fire lines kill anything that’s got more than two legs.” He said to Waltham.

She was tall, blonde, very pretty in hard way. People, especially men, tended to underestimate her due to her looks, thinking she was just a made up barbie doll. Paulson had thought the same thing once, until she kicked his ass in hand to hand training. The first round he went easy on her and he was flat on his back in 5 seconds. The second round he went all out, and to his credit, he managed to last a full 7 seconds before she had him pined, face pressed against the floor and his left arm twisted up his back. Waltham, like all the other,s had earned her place in the combat team, but unlike the men she had to continually prove she deserved to be there. This constant striving for perfection had made her one of the best solders Paulson had ever worked with.

The thick hull armour fell inwards with a heavy thunk. The sound echoed around the shuttle. The stench of rotten eggs filler the small enclosed space and everyone wrinkled their noses.

“For fucks sake… is this ship full of farts?” Jones, the lead combat engineer said.

Paulson grinned. “Ok move out. Slow and steady, I don’t want any fuck ups.”

The team moved slowly into the alien vessel. The interior was dark, smelly and hot, lighting was a deep red that cast odd shadows. Paulson didn’t know if this was normal or if it was due to low power.

Waltham took her place first in line as the engineers cleared the hull and opened a portal to the interior of the ship. She directed one of her team , Ramerez, a young marine on his first away mission , hang back and guard the shuttle just encase they needed to make a quick exit.

Ramerez took position just inside the the shuttle door, he pulled a couple of boxes containing emergency supplies across the entrance and dug in.

The rest of the team followed her lead, with Paulson acting as rear guard, scanning the corridor behind him with a quick practiced eye.

One of the marines whispered in a low voice “damn, this is weird.”

“what is? Looks like a normal ship corridor to me” Paulson said

“sir...that’s what I mean. I expected...well dirt..or tunnels like that old movie ‘Aliens’. You know, the one where the dildo bursts out of some guys chest and all these Marines hunt it down? I mean they’re bugs for Christ’s sake..but this just looks normal.”

Paulson shook his head.“Lay off the old horror flicks. Keep it together”.

Looking at a handheld scanner Jones said “looks like there might be a room down the corridor to the right, I’m reading power spikes, it could be a place I can hack into there systems.”

The team crept inward, the low gravity giving them a bounce to their steps. They were searching for a room with a computer access, but all the could see were long featureless corridors. The came to a junction and as they passed a blast of plasma energy almost took Walthams head off. She Pulled back just in time, lightning quick reflexes saving her life. As it was the plasma shot singed her combat helmet.

Risking another blast, Waltham popped her head around then quickly pulled it back. Three Canidations waited around the corner, plasma rifles at the ready for another shot.

Pulling a flashbang from her belt she leaned out and expertly tossed he weapon into the centre of the group, a second later a loud BANG and a FLASH of bright light lit up the corridor. She could hear a smattering of legs as the Canidations fell back. Her and two of her team ran around keeping low and opened fire. The sound of the assault rifles sounded odd in the dense air. the Canidations tried to return fire but there shots went wide, scorching the metal bulkheads, obviously still blinded by the light. The skirmish was over quickly.

The team crept up slowly to the dead aliens. One in the was headless. Its body twitched, a dark yellow fluid pumping from its neck. The other two were still. Red faceted eyes that took up most of the head were dull and lifeless. Mandibles closed tighter than a vice.

Bullets had ripped the skinny top part of one in half, and the others larger thorax between the spiders-like legs was riddled and leaking the same yellow fluid.

The team looked at the corpses, they were…creepy. They unnerved the humans just looking at them. Jones knelt down and pointed something out. “Look, this one has a couple of cybernetic legs. That one has a cybernetic head…That’s so weird. Gives me the creeps.”

Paulson looked. “Why weird?”

“Think of what this means. They use medical tech to repair wounds. Replace missing limbs like we do. You don’t think of bugs caring for individuals I guess. I assumed they would be like a hive, like ants or termites just mindless soldier’s, disposable and replaceable. Maybe they’re more than that.“

One of the other marines, Patel a tall solid build man with a cold gaze said in a whisper “They’re like spiders, I fucking hate spiders. Normal spiders are bad enough but these are super sized fuckers with guns. “

He shivered as a cold chill ran down his spine. Taking one last place at the dead Canadation he walked slowly past, rifle ready for another attack.

As the team moved on one of the corpses stood up with a clatter. It swiped at a passing trooper with its upper limbs, razor sharp claws sliced across his face and chest, cutting flesh and the scoring deep cuts on his combat armour. He fell back shocked. The headless alien thrashed about, seemingly attracted to the noise the shocked humans made. It tried to reach for another one but a burst of fire from Waltham’s rifle tore through its thorax . the alien twitched again then fell back. She crept up, gun ready and kicked the corpse. No reaction. It was truly dead.

Patel looked a mess, his face had been cut to the bone, but he’d live. Two others helped bandage him up.

“fucking fuckitty fucking spiders! “ he shouted and kicked the corpse, holding his wounded face and blood soaked bandages.

“get back to the shuttle” Waltham commanded him.

He nodded, his face screwed up in pain, The bandages soaking with blood. He got to his feet and headed back the way he came.

Paulson looked at jones “What the fuck?”

Jones shrugged “I’m no medical expert, but I guess a head shot wont kill them. Maybe they keep their brains in there ass or something, I guess the head is just for eating and seeing.” Pointing to the Canidation with the cybernetic head “Maybe loosing the head for them is just like loosing an eye for us? Or maybe they’re like cockroaches. We should drag these things back to the shuttle. Medical back at HQ would have a field day.”

Paulson nodded “team, forget headshots, aim for the centre mass.” He directed a couple of team member to take the most intact body back to the shuttle “Keep it under guard…just in case”

The diminished team made there way deeper into the ship. Paulson was aware of the time he was taking, he knew The Glasgow couldn’t wait forever, but he wanted more than a few dead bugs. Soon they came across an empty room. The door was closed but a kick and a shove and it slid back into the wall. The team entered. Looking around, there was a lot of electronics that Paulson couldn’t guess the function off. Jones quickly set up his scanner. Pulling open a panel he found circuit boards. After quick scan he attached a lead from his scanner to one of the chips.

“If i can hack this, this should give me access” he worked quickly The rest of the team took up positions around the door. Paulson moved to the back of the room and signalled Waltham.

“thoughts? He said after she walked over

Waltham shrugged “they don’t seem too tough. Decent weapons though.“ she pointed to the plasma rifle she’d captured.

“hows things between you two?” he nodded to Jones

Relationships were against regulations but as long as it was discreet no one really minded. It could be lonely in deep space.

Waltham smiled. “he’s sweet, like a puppy. Always eager to please. But utterly fearless too. He could be a great soilder, but likes his gizmos too much.”

“Yeah jones is a good one.” Paulson agreed. He’s been friends with jones for years. They grew up in the same town went to the same high school, and went through training together.

Minutes ticked by. Jones had attached a large data cube to his scanner. He came over to the pair while the data downloaded “. I can copy the full ships hard drive. Shouldn’t take long. There’s not a lot of data, mainly seems to be the ships opperating system. Seems pretty basic. I did find something interesting though, I found ship schematic. We’re not far from a path to fire control. Its down the end of that corridor out there. “

Paulson thought for a second. “no, we have enough we need to get back”

Just as he said that his communicator beeped. It was the shuttle “Sir, get back here we need to go! A Canidation warship is on approach, ETA 7 minutes!”

“Ok people pack your shit up, we need to get out of here! Double time!”

The team grabbed there gear and quickly made there way back into the corridor. Several canidations ran down the steel hallway, the hack had triggered some kind of security protocol. These Canidations didn t have weapons but they moved so fast in the lower gravity that the quickly closed the distance, soon it was a melee, claw against fist.

****************

Alarms cried out for attention on the bridge of the Glasgow. A Canidation warship was closing in.

“eta?” asked Conroy. His calm voice a counterpoint to the frantic activity on the bridge.

“roughly 7 minutes until weapons range. I’ve contacted the shuttle”. maccalum replied.

Conroy nodded. Looking at the helmsman her said “keep that bug ship in between us. We’re smaller and so keep us in its shadow and hopefully they won’t get a weapons lock.”

Nodding, through helmsman fired up the thrusters.

“’ll try time get a target lock on the missile batteries.” Rotchford reported as she programmed the ships turrets.

Captain Conroy starred at the main screen, his fingers tapping a rhythm on the arm of his command seat.

Paulson tried to get a clear shot as a canidaton reared up on its four rear legs. It brought its full weight down on Waltham. Its mandibles opened and snapped closed right over her head. Only her quick thinking and combat helmet saved her from decapitation. She ducked her head and trusting the hardened carbon nanotube and ceramic construction she head-butted the bug right in its open mouth. Mandibles crunched against the helm. The force of through blow and the weight of the bug staggered her for a second, but years of hand to hand training came to her and with a twist and a flick she grabbed the alien and slammed it against the bulkhead. The lower gravity and adrenaline giving her almost superhuman strength.

Her combat knife flashed on the low light as she stabbed the mantis like torso. There was resistance then with a crunch she forced the blade through the carapace. The bug shuddered and wrenched. Flailing its limbs then it was still.

The skirmish was over as quickly as it started. Looking around Paulson shouted “sound off”

A chorus of voices said “here” or “i’m good”

A few troopers took minor injuries but no fatalities.

They sprinted down the corridor. The sound of gunfire brought them up short. The bugs were trying to capture the shuttle. Paulson knew if they lost that they were dead.

A scream echoed down the steel corridor. One of his men had fallen. Canidations pressed on.

“We need a distraction” Paulson shouted to Waltham over the blaring alarms.

“i have an idea. Hold here for a few seconds”

With that she sprinted back the way she came. Moments later an explosion rocked the ship. The lights and gravity cut out, then seconds later they came back on. The unprepared soilders hit the ground but were quickly back on there feet, the Canidations were not as lucky, they were a tangle of legs and claws further down the corridor.

Seizing his chance, Paulson shouting a battle cry and his boarding party fell in the bugs from behind. The battle was short and brutal but they pushed through just as Waltham returned. Her hair was burned and armour scorched.

“What the fuck did you do?” shouted Paulson

“I overloaded that plasma rifle and tossed it in the fire control room. I think we need to get out of here, that room is burning and it’s right next to the missiles”

Once everyone was on board the hatch slammed shut and the shuttle detached then raced back to the Glasgow, just as another explosion ripped through the Canidation warship. A series of smaller explosion’s rocked the ship them with a blast like a supernova the power core blew up. The shuttle was caught in the fireball but escaped with minor damage.

Paulson looked at his and bruised team as the shuttle pilot plotted a course back to the Glasgow.

Paulson pushed one of the Canidation corpses to the side, making down room in the small shuttle. He sat next to the body of a young man, almost a boy. Ramerez. It was his first tour, he was 18 and fresh out of boot camp. Ramerez had taken a plasma blast to the chest. His armour was burned through. Mercifully he had been killed instantly.

************

Conroy watched as the Canidation ship exploded. The shuttle streaked towards the hanger.

“well... shit” he said “get the shuttle on board and get ready to bug out”

calls of “aye” and “yessir” Echoed around the bridge..

The Canidation warship closed in, spitting fire and death at the Glasgow. Point defence destroyed the incoming missiles but the ship rocked from impacts

The Glasgow returned fire, turrets pounded the underside of the Canidation ship as it passed overhead passing through the expanding could of gas and debris.

The helmsman kept a steady course until the shuttle was back in then started evasive manoeuvres, he would have to hold the ship steady for a few moments to allow the hyperdrive to spin up, but the Canidation ship was not making it easy.

“Shuttle is on board. Prepare for Jump in 3...2...1...”

The ship lurched to the side and spun almost 90 degrees, crew members were thrown around the bridge like sticks caught in a hurricane. Alarms blared.

The main lights were down, red emergency lamps cast an eerie glow. Groans came from the crew

Rochford pulled herself back into her seat. Blood running from a head wound. She checked her console “sir..the hyperdrive core has been hit. We’re venting plasma and atmosphere...main power is down. Weapons down....the Canidations are coming around for another pass...”

Before Conroy could respond an explosion tore through the bridge as a missile impacted the armour surrounding the command center.

A ceiling panel that had been knocked loose earlier in the fight fell with a resounding crash pinning Conroy to his command chair and knocking him unconscious. Bones snapped under the force of the impact.

Rochford as the most senior officer left standing opened ship wide Comms “all hands. This is commander rochford. The captain is incapacitated abandon ship. I repeat abandon ship”

She moved as quickly as she could to try to help Conroy, Macallum was at his side trying to move the panel. “mac..leave him. We need to go...” she grabbed his arm “come on...move it soldier” macallum looked at the damaged viewscreen. The Canidation ship was baring down. Any second now it’s main cannons would finish the job. They were out of time.

White hot plasma blasts leaped from the Canidation vessel tearing across the cold black darkness. Promising death to the Glasgow.

A flash and a massive lurch pulled maccalum and Rotchford off their feet, but it wasn’t a weapon impact. It was the lurch of a gravity field forming a few miles away as a ship dropped out of hyperdrive.

A dangerous and potentially fatal move – a single miscalculation could have dropped the new ship right on top of them - but it saved the Glasgow. The rest of the fleet, the few ships that remained had jumped back to help. The TDF New York had jumped In front of the plasma blasts. Taking the hit that would have finished the Glasgow off. It opened up with its main cannons, rail guns blasting the armour above the Canidations missile batteries. Another Terran defence force ship TDF Cardiff jumped in behind and opened up on the bugs with everything it had. The Canidation vessel was powerful, but it couldn’t withstand the combined firepower of the vengeful human warships.

Explosion and explosion, hit after hit. The Canidations withered under the combined firepower and with a final flash it vanished as it’s fusion plant exploded.

The TDF Glasgows communication system beeped for attention. Maccalum moved slowly across

“This is captain Yoshimoyo on the New York. Prepare to receive medic and engineering teams. Your information won us the day Glasgow. All Canidation vessels have been destroyed. This is the first human victory in this war...”

“This is science officer McCallum. “thanks for the help. That was a risky move I owe your helmsman a beer. Captain Conroy has been injured. We don’t know how bad, the ship has taken heavy damage.

*****************

Weeks later Captain Conroy stood in front of admiral Wong.

Conroy had spent most of the time unconscious. His injuries sever, but with advanced medical skill, talented doctors and a dash of luck he had made a full recovery.

“Captain” the admiral began “I’m glad to see you’re back on your feet. I’ve out an official commendation for yourself and your entire crew. The information you fought so hard for will prove invaluable in this conflict”

Wong continued “The data contained ship specifications, technical manuals, training documents and recent fleet movements. With that information we’ve managed to push the Canidations back in a number of theatres , you and your crew have saved thousands of human lives. We all owe you a debt captain.”

“Thank you sir...i'm eager to get back to the Glasgow sir, to get back in the fight.”

The admiral shook his head

“I’m afraid not Conroy. The Glasgow was heavily damaged and will require months of repairs and refit. We can’t have a seasoned crew out of action for so long. You and your crew are being reassigned.”

Wong passed a pad to the captain

“Our newest, most powerful warship. The TDF Lucifer. You’ll be part of a task force – the ghost division. The Canidations are throwing more and more ships against us, and while we’ve slowed the advance to a crawl we are still loosing. You’ll go behind enemy lines and fight a guerrilla war. Do everything you can to bring the bugs down. Everything is a viable target, including the Canidation homeworld. Teach them to fear the wraith of Earth.”

End

#humans are weird #ghost division #ghostdivison #hfy #humans are space orcs #humanity fuck yeah

[cupofteaguk]

let the games begin

PART OF THE REPUTATION SERIES

summary: in hindsight, acting out against prankster Jung Hoseok wasn’t entirely good for your sanity. after all, it’s not very fun to have hiccough sweet mixed in with your morning breakfast—a feat that goes about as well as one would think. 

pairing: hoseok x fem!reader 

genre: hogwarts au, pranskter!hoseok, enemies to lovers | fluff 

warnings: there’s mention of Nayeon in this fic and yes it’s the same Nayeon from new romantics because i love crossovers lol, talks about Hogwarts curriculum (definitely not technically accurate but I tried my best), slow burn, ~banter~

word count: 19.5k 

a/n: a birthday fic for jung hoseok <3 

.

As soon as his name is called, a silence falls across the dungeon as students stand a little straighter and become a little more alert to the situation about to unfold. Murmurs rise up amongst the crowd as people look around, stand on tippy-toes, poke their head up, all trying to seek out the owner of the name—the brash individual who has piqued interest and has guaranteed an excellent show of skill for today’s lesson.  

There’s a moment of silence, before a hand raises briefly into the air. “Present, professor.” It’s a voice from the back, a low tone but full of confidence. All the eyes flicker towards the source, a boy stepping away from his group of friends in order to walk towards the center of the room. At the center sits a long table, stretching across the expanse of the class. The surface is colored blue with decorations of wands and colliding spells, explosions of rainbow patterns. The perfect backdrop for a dueling lesson. 

“Ah, wonderful Mr. Jung!” The professor announces, curling her fingers into each other. Professor Wong is the new Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher who has recently employed a dueling class once a week as part of her curriculum to interweave real life practices with academic intentions. 

For every single duel that has been conducted, it’s always the same: pair two students against each other who have one assignment: disarm the other. There’s always a comment on the form, always a comment on the reflexes of the participants, and never a repeat of students who are volunteered for the activity. 

With the exception of this one. 

Jung Hoseok steps onto the table with practiced ease, his arm sweeping his cape back so he can step towards the center of the table. A light flurry of giggles pass through the air, of students already in awe of a move as simple as moving his cape. Hoseok doesn’t react outwardly to the shower of affection, he merely looks down to fiddle with the rings that decorate his longer fingers. 

“And the student who will go against Mr. Jung today is…” Professor Wong refers down to her parchment. “Kim Mingyu. Mr. Kim?” 

For a brief second, silence envelops the room until a distant voice is heard. “Oh fuck, Professor Wong is trying to get me killed.” 

Professor Wong lowers her parchment. “Language, Mr. Kim. And facing off against Mr. Jung shouldn’t be a problem—his form is good but you’ve had weeks to study the art of dueling from previous students who have come up before you.” She pauses for a moment as Mingyu makes his way towards the center of the room. “And I have every confidence that you’ve been preparing.” She lowers her neck to fix him with beady eyes. “Did I presume correctly, Mr. Kim?” 

Mingyu hoists himself up onto the table, managing an uneasy smile. “Of course, professor.” 

“Filling me with confidence as always, Mr. Kim.” Professor Wong sighs. But she steps off the table and whirls around to address the two now situated atop the dueling table. “Now, the purpose of this duel is to provide real world context to this aspect of wizard combat. You two are not to injure each other but simply disarm your opponent. Nonverbal spells or verbal spells are allowed. Now, you know the rules. You may begin.” 

Hoseok turns to Mingyu as the pair approach each other, the air weighing down in tension and anticipation. Once in the middle, the two bow before turning around and making their way to their respected ends of the table. Mingyu shuffles around nervously, while Hoseok whirls with the spin of his robe. 

Mingyu launches first, stepping forward as a bright burst of light flickers out from the end of his wand and zaps straight towards Hoseok. A nonverbal attempt at expelliarmus—one that is immediately thwarted by Hoseok’s deflection. The light of the spell reflects off, creating a sound of hollow space, before the pair are once again back to where they started. 

Hoseok attacks next, his own silent spell flying towards Mingyu, who mirrors a shield charm. But Hoseok steps forward and another attack flies at Mingyu, who has to step back hastily to reflect the spell. The latter boy looks exhausted, as nonverbal spells are still a challenging subject to master. Most seventh year students have the concept of casting spells nonverbally down, but require more practice beyond what a single year can provide. A lot of it comes down to practice, discipline, and mental fortitude—all things that Mingyu is losing hold of right now. 

His opponent, however, doesn’t seem to be losing steam. Hoseok merely narrows his eyes and continues stepping forward. With every step he takes, he attacks with yet another expelliarmus spell aimed at Mingyu. After the second spell, Mingyu has reached the end of the table before the wand flies out of his hand. In the midst of the confusion, his foot slips off the edge and everyone gasps as Mingyu teeters, about to fall.  

Bringing his wand towards him, Hoseok brings an end table from the other side of the room, lining it up to the edge of the long table so Mingyu has an additional surface to step on. The latter boy stumbles but maintains his footing at the higher ground. 

Hoseok smiles slightly. “I can’t have you breaking your back during a disarming duel.” 

There is a moment of stunned silence from Hoseok’s save, but as soon as the silence passes, the crowd erupts into claps and cheers. 

“A wonderful benchmark for fair dueling practices once again, Mr. Jung,” Professor Wong starts up again as she steps onto the table. She waits for Mingyu to step back onto the main long table, waits for Mingyu and Hoseok to bow to each other again, before she’s turning back to the class. “Alright class, what did we learn from today’s duel?” 

As the class engages in conversation about what has just occurred, several gazes flint over to Jung Hoseok. The boy appears calm and composed as always, making sure to pocket his wand before he’s running fingers through his hair and creating a curtain in his hair that exposes his forehead. Several more giggles arise from the movement. No doubt the conversations would carry on after the class time about Jung Hoseok is confident, posed, and absolutely—! 

. 

“Dreamy…” Nayeon sighs as she finishes recounting the events of the duel to you, ending it on the kind of note that makes you want to stab yourself with a fork. “You should have seen him—it’s like he gave Mingyu a chance to go on the offensive before Hoseok just tore into him. How do you think he did it? I’ve never seen anyone our year be able to conjure up so many nonverbal spells in a row.” 

“Seems like Jung Hoseok never has anything better to do than learn that shit,” You grumble under your breath as the pair of you step into the next lesson of the day: potions. Your statement is dripping in sarcasm because it’s entirely false. Jung Hoseok can conjure up many nonverbal spells in a row for a variety of reasons, and most of those reasons have nothing to do with burying his head into a book. 

Nayeon doesn’t seem to hear you as she slides into the seat next to yours to continue gushing about how attractive Hoseok had looked sweeping his robe back or pushing the hair out of his face. Although talking about Hoseok makes your eyes roll all the way back into your skull, you indulge her infatuation because she’s a friend. A new friend, but still a friend regardless. 

Nayeon is the Seeker for the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Despite the six previous years spent in the same castle, Nayeon is not someone you were very familiar with as you were growing up. The pair of you just ran in different social circles throughout the previous years, and her popularity as a player for the house team has always made her seem like some faceless figure in your conversations with other people. That is, until a few weeks ago when you ran into Nayeon leaving a party in the Room of Requirements. It was after the first Quidditch game of the season—Ravenclaw versus Gryffindor, and Gryffindor had lost out on the opportunity to advance to the next round. 

To be fair, Jeon Jungkook is a monster on the Quidditch field. 

Regardless, Nayeon had gone to the party and had been seconds away from being caught by Head Boy Min Yoongi had she not run into you heading back from the library. You saved her from detention that night, had played along with her claim that the pair of you were partners for some upcoming project. As the pair of you were walking back to your respected houses, you both made good conversation and decided to start hanging out in between classes. Nayeon is unlike some of the other friends you have within the castle walls—she’s much more outspoken and extroverted, but she is really sweet which is why you’re indulging her the way you are right now. 

Because despite Nayeon’s parading of how cool and amazing Jung Hoseok is, he definitely is not. 

“Yeah, wasn’t I so cool? Mingyu tried his best, but he just couldn’t handle me coming after him with my spells.” 

You sigh through your teeth, and don’t even bother watching as Jung Hoseok himself appears in the potions classroom. His Slytherin friend Park Jimin is at his side, and they both slide into the seat behind you as Hoseok continues to brag about his victory during the dueling match. 

This carries on for a little before the potion lessons start. In preparation for the upcoming N.E.W.T.s, there are less students and higher expectations than ever before—all lessons expertly crafted to help students prepare for their examinations. 

And it all starts here: with an assignment from the professor to construct a potion for dreamless sleep. “Some of you might need this in the coming months, depending on how many N.E.W.T.s you have to take,” He had remarked humorlessly, before sending the class off on their own. As with many classes during a seventh year at Hogwarts, students are usually left to their own devices to finish up whatever assignment may be in store for them. 

In the case of the potions class, it’s typical to get an ingredient or a potion to either write a paper on or recreate the mixture where a grade would be received on the spot. For today’s potion, ingredients are situated in the back and the textbook on Advanced Potion Making in the reference tool. With everything set up, you go off to gather your ingredients before returning back to your desk. After setting up your cauldron, you get to work setting up your station. 

As you’re turning around to gather your textbook from your bag, an unwelcome figure approaches his own desk in order to set his own materials down atop the table. He notices you immediately, and flashes you a smile. “Hey Y/N, you should have seen me today in my Defense Against the Dark Arts class. I kicked ass at our dueling lesson.” 

“Unfortunately for you Jung Hoseok, I’m not taking that class,” You sneer, whirling back around to focus on your current assignment, trying to focus. You can do this. Every grade distributed in your classes is important and you cannot afford to be distracted. 

“You mean Dark Arts isn’t in your wheelhouse,” Hoseok says as soon as you’ve tried to settle yourself into a comfortable silence. Nayeon watches from next to you, eyes flickering in confusion between the two of you. 

You turn back around to give him a sweet smile. “Herbologists aren’t required to have a Dark Arts N.E.W.T. Not that matters much, since it doesn’t affect you in any way.” 

You turn around, staring down your first ingredient of the day: a sopophorous bean that needs to be cut in order for the juices to help with the construction of the potion. 

As you start your chopping (or attempting your chopping), Park Jimin’s voice resumes from behind you. “So how exactly were you able to go like three nonstop nonverbal spells against Mingyu? Doesn’t that require a lot of concentration? At least, according to the textbooks.” 

“It does,” Hoseok answers. “But I like to think I’ve had a lot of practice in casting spells. It requires a lot of mental commitment and you really have to think about what spell you’re trying to use as you’re using it. Luckily, I think my skills are pretty solid so Professor Wong is pretty smart in having me be a good reference point—!” 

Unable to take it anymore, you place your knife down on the table and turn around once more to face the two boys behind you. Hoseok and Jimin look up, but you only focus your attention on Hoseok. “Jung Hoseok,” You seethe. “Some people are actually trying to do well on these assignments and pass this class so we can set ourselves up for success. Not everyone here is protected by a family name.” 

At your final sentence, the people within hearing range react immediately. Jimin’s eyes widen as he lowers his own knife to study you. Even Nayeon looks over her shoulder to stare at you. 

Hoseok, however, just raises an eyebrow at your attack. He takes in a breath of thinly veiled frustration before giving you a nod. “Fair enough. Focusing is really important in class, I get it. Here.” He picks up his wand from his desk and gives it a wave. “Consider this water under the bridge.” 

Your eyes follow the movement of his wand with narrowed eyes, before you turn back around without saying a word. You turn back to your ingredients, not thinking anything of it as you manage a clean cut through the sopophorous bean. You pick it up, sprinkle it into the cauldron—! 

And the contents inside immediately implode. You jump, Nayeon screams, and the ends of Hoseok’s lips tug up into a grin. 

Professor Slughorn is at your table. “What seems to be the problem, Miss. Y/N? Put the wrong ingredient into the potion so soon?” 

“N-No professor, I promise!” You stammer, frantically sorting through your materials before settling on the pages of the textbook you’ve been referring to. “It says to put the juices of the sopophorous bean into the cauldron first. I did and it just—I don’t know…” You continue, borderline helpless as your eyes shift. 

Professor Slughorn is quiet for a moment before he leans forward to pick up one of the ingredients you have on the table. He observes it before placing it back down. “No worries, Miss. Y/N. It seems like your ingredients have been tampered with—with an aging charm no less. If ingredients like these are past a certain threshold, they lose their magical properties and end up damaging the potion. I know you wouldn’t do such a thing, so go ahead and grab the correct ingredients once more—Mr. Jung?” 

Hoseok falters slightly with his own mixing as Professor Slughorn turns to face him this time. 

“Now, Mr. Jung, just a quick word.” He lowers his chin to give Hoseok a more beady look. “Considering the wastefulness you’ve treated my ingredients, I am partial to just removing you from class for today. But I’m willing to give you the benefit of the doubt. Next time I’d be a little more mindful about picking up my wand before threatening another student. Just detention for you this time, Mr. Jung.” 

Hoseok hardly seems fazed by the punishment, like he has been expecting it. He lowers his head slightly. “I’ll be more careful, professor.” 

Professor Slughorn walks away, unable to see the wink Hoseok throws at you, unable to see the way your lips part in realization and the way your teeth clench together. Because Jung Hoseok has done it again. 

. 

“Argh!” You scream, bringing your curled fists up to your hair, ignoring the curious glances you receive from your classmates. The fingers land into the strands as you make an extra note not to pull too hard. “I’m gonna kill Jung Hoseok one day, mark my words.” You catch Nayeon’s wide-eyed stare. “He’s not that pretty to look at, come on.” 

Nayeon blinks for a moment, before her lips curl into a smile. “You seem to know Hoseok pretty well.” 

You groan. “I’d rather not go into it right now, I think I’ll burst a vein in my forehead.” 

Nayeon keeps quiet at that, giving you the few seconds you think you mentally recover from the day. You did manage to get your potion done for the day, no thanks to Hoseok, and now you and Nayeon are walking through the outdoor pathway that drops off into the courtyard. The greenery is fresh underneath your shoes as you and Nayeon continue until you see another familiar figure laying atop a picnic blanket with a book in her hand. 

But this time, rather than irritation, the sight of this person brings a smile to your face. You exhale the last bit of your frustration. “Sana!” You sing, quickening your pace with Nayeon following closely behind you. 

Sana looks up from her reading material and waves wildly at the two of you. “Hey guys, how was class?” 

“Pretty calm,” Nayeon starts as she carefully slips off her shoes and steps onto the blanket Sana had laid out. “Until someone got into a fight with Jung Hoseok.” 

Sana gives you a side glance. “What did he do this time?” 

Nayeon blinks, having not expected that. “Wait, you know about that?” 

Sana laughs, gesturing to you with the point of her book. “They’ve had bad blood since year one. Jung Hoseok has done a few hair-pulling pranks throughout his Hogwarts career. Sometimes they’ve affected just one person or sometimes they’ve affected a whole dormitory. But Y/N is usually caught in the middle of it all and thinks that Hoseok is full of shit.” 

“Whoa, whoa, wait, what stuff? I’ve heard of a few pranks going off in the Hufflepuff Common Room and an incident with house arrangements but I didn’t think—!” Nayeon starts. 

“Yep, all Hoseok’s fault,” You cut in, digging into your bag and pulling out a bag of food. 

Nayeon’s eyes light up. “Sounds like there’s a lot of tea to unpackage then—I honestly figured something was up. Hoseok seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons and your insult about his family name seemed very specific. What was that all about by the way?” 

You give her a look as you rip apart your bread. “Oh that’s right, I forgot that a lot of people outside of Hufflepuff don’t really know Hoseok’s history. But I’m sure you know about the Jung family line in the Auror department.” 

Aurors were highly trained law enforcement officials who dealt with crimes relating to the Dark Arts and the dark witches and wizards who engaged in that dangerous magic. The training to obtain an auror position was known for being vigorous and intense and the reputation of the job was even more so. Despite that, wizards and witches who worked as an Auror were highly respected. It’s usually rare for even one wizard from a family to become an auror, but to have an entire family with the skills, talent, and grades to become an auror is a rarity in of itself. 

Knowing that, Nayeon nods. “Of course. The Jungs are legends. Not only did they have generations of family members both heads and regular aurors in the department, but they have such an impressive streak of finding dark witches and wizards. But wait—are you saying—?” 

“That Hoseok is from that Jung family? Yes, one hundred percent.” 

Nayeon’s lips part as her eyes widen. “Wow, that’s pretty crazy. I’m guessing Hoseok is expected to become an auror too.” 

“At this point, just being a Jung is enough to probably get him in. He just needs to get the right number of N.E.W.T.s and he’ll be smooth sailing. I don’t even think he’ll need the grades to get in.” You move around in your blanket so you’re resting on your stomach. “That’s why I think Hoseok is full of shit. He doesn’t take school seriously because of his family. His job and way of living has already been predetermined, so he just spends his time creating havoc everywhere he goes and literally dampening everyone else’s day with his horrible pranks. Seriously, now that I think about it, he pulled some crazy shit once a year.” 

“Oh, like remember that time during first year when he set off a dung bomb in the Hufflepuff common room?” Sana asks, shuttering at the thought. “Sometimes when I close my eyes I can still smell the bomb in my nose. It was awful. The smell was in the room for days.” 

Intrigued, Nayeon listens in as you and Sana briefly recount the annual party of pranks Hoseok created for everyone around him, or for you more specifically. 

In second year, while trying to impress a student, Hoseok tried levitating a bottle of ink into the air during a lesson but lost control of the bottle. The actions caused the ink to spill all over your white blouse, colored with an ink so poignant that it required help from the Headmistress. You doubt Hoseok even knew you existed before then. 

In third year, Hoseok spread quick dry glue all over one of the moving staircases—a product that, like the name implies, dries quickly when activated by the movement of a person, place, or thing. Unfortunately, you and Sana had been the person, place, or thing, to arrive atop the moving staircases. It was following a post-dinner bliss, seeing you and Sana trying to head back to the Hufflepuff common room before the plan was promptly thwarted by glue. 

“Oh hello there, I remember you,” Hoseok had said, teary eyed and grinning from his previous laughter—just appearing from the shadows. “I spilled ink on you last year, nice to meet you!” 

It had been your first conversation with Jung Hoseok, and the first time you wanted the ground to swallow him whole. But sadly, it doesn’t end there. 

In fourth year, Hoseok made everyone’s quill disappear throughout the whole duration of the lesson only to have them reappear moments before class ended just to chase the poor professor out of the classroom. And of course, the final cherry on top had been a firework of feathers, the byproduct of the quills colliding and exploding over the whole class. The feathers had stuck to you for weeks, and Jung Hoseok had been laughing the whole goddamn time. 

He had even cornered you after class with his classic shit-eating grin. “You look like a bird,” He commented. 

In fifth year, he did something that surprised you: he walked to your desk and gave you a present. 

“I hear you’re into plants or whatever,” Hoseok said, placing a small pot onto your desk. “So I found this and thought of you!” 

He had seemed polite enough for you to indulge him. “It’s herbology,” You corrected him, but you wave it off. “But it’s fine. Uh…” You take the pot, curling your fingers around the edges. “This is very nice of you, Hoseok. Thank you.” 

But turns out it was not a very nice gesture for you because the plant had been jinxed—a bewitched thing that became dangerously overgrown through the night and latched onto you in its path. You had woken up the next morning with branches and leaves curled over every part of your body, your entire bedpost covered with greenery and you right at the heart of it. You, lifted several feet above the bed, trapped in the plant Hoseok had given you. The Headmistress was called to help you out, and you refused to stand next to Hoseok in the greenhouse for the rest of the year. 

And finally, the cherry on top of pranks was during sixth year. In an attempt to fix an admirer’s robes, Hoseok ended up bewitching the entirety of the housing system. The crests people wore on their robes were mixed around and swapped out. The gesture ended up fucking up who was allowed or denied access into the different houses—a crazy day that you remember extremely well. The paintings that guarded the common rooms couldn’t let in certain students, especially the first years because new students are still trying to be adjusted into the school. The day had been an overall frenzy where the attention of the Headmaster was needed to undo the mess. Hoseok had gotten a week of detention following that incident. 

“Wow,” Nayeon says, back in the present, with her chin in her hand and her eyes wide. “I didn’t even know most of those pranks were done by Hoseok.” She looks at you. “I didn’t know you were the one who got attacked by the plant overnight.” 

“Yeah, yeah,” You cut in, looking embarrassed. “It was all very terrible and horrible and Jung Hoseok is a gigantic piece of trash—!” 

“Piece of trash? You don’t mean yourself, do you?” 

The familiar, shit-eating grin in his voice causes the three of you to jump as you pivot your waist to find Jung Hoseok and his stupid equally-as-naturally-talented friend Jeon Jungkook by his side. They’re both staring down at you. 

You glare at him. “Are you stupid? If you’re selectively eavesdropping on a conversation not meant for you, it’s clear that you know I was talking about you.” 

Hoseok slides his hands into his pockets. “Tactful as always. Anyways, this is my friend Jeon Jungkook. You may know him.” 

“What’s up,” Jungkook introduces himself, eyes flickering to Nayeon as he grins. “Hey Nayeon.” 

Nayeon gives him a weak smile in return. You wonder if she’s still upset about her loss against Jungkook in the Quidditch match. Or, deeper than that, you wonder if she’s more upset that he invited her to that party in the Room of Requirements and never showed up.  

“Pleasant,” Hoseok comments in regards to the atmosphere that has been crafted before he’s turning back to you. “I’m hearing about a potions exam coming up.” 

You nod. “You’re correct. Why, you’re gonna try and study this time?” 

Hoseok laughs at that. “Nah,” He brushes off. “It doesn’t seem that important. I’ll look over a guide or something, but that’s it.” 

Your stare hardens slightly. “I think it’s a little more important than you’re making it seem. You do realize that if you fail your exams, you won’t even make it to the N.E.W.T.s, and it seems like that’ll definitely fuck up your chances of doing anything significant with your life.” You pause. “Don’t you need to continue that family legacy or something?” 

Hoseok laugh melts into a frown. The group you’re surrounded with becomes significantly quiet, as everyone seems in shock about the direction you’re taking the conversation. “Why don’t you just mind your business? My ‘family legacy’ or whatever dumb shit you want to call it isn’t of your concern. More than that, how I decide to go about my business is up to me.” He smiles, all teeth but no humor. “Your concern for my grades is cute. But I’m a Jung. I don’t need help and certainly not from you.” He readjusts the page on his shoulder. “Have a good rest of your day.” 

As he and Jungkook take their leave, you roll your eyes and turn back to Sana and Nayeon. You smile. “He’s a dick. So, Sana, What kind of food did you bring out for us?” 

. 

When Jung Hoseok said he didn’t think the upcoming potions exam struck much importance to him, he didn’t think the universe would actually take him seriously. That is all that can run through his mind as he stares at the POOR classification written across his test. 

His mind whirls a little as he starts to flip through the parchment, to figure out what had happened. Sure, he didn’t study specific ingredients closely, but he’s always known the gist of what different potions were meant for. That is, after all, how he passed his O.W.L. in potions.  

“Yeah… I guess the more advanced courses look into what certain ingredients can do,” Jimin says, where his OUTSTANDING classification is over his own exam—of course. “When you get out in the real world and need to make something specific, it’s better to have the foundation of materials. Anyways I thought you knew that. I gave you a copy of a study guide for you to reference.” He narrows his eyes. “Unless you were out with Namjoon again.” 

Hoseok sighs. “Whatever. It’s just one exam, I’m sure it’ll be fine.” 

He’s about to collect his belongings when Professor Slughorn’s voice calls him from the front of the room. “Have a bit of trouble studying for the test, Mr. Jung?” He asks as Hoseok steps towards the desk. 

Hoseok looks down at his test and plasters a smile. “Just wasn’t sure what to focus on, Professor. It won’t happen again.” 

“I hope that it won’t, Mr. Jung.” Professor Slughorn puts down his quill before folding his fingers atop one another. “Because if you fail another one of my exams, it’ll be clear to me that you aren’t fit to take the N.E.W.T. for potions. And I understand you’re interested in the auror program after graduation. That is something I can’t guarantee right now. Unfortunately, just being a Jung won’t be enough if you can’t even make it to the examination period at the end of the year.” 

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows, pressing his lips together. “So what do I need to do?” 

Professor Slughorn ponders for a second. “An Outstanding classification would do you well, Mr. Jung. Good luck.” 

With that, Hoseok leaves the confines of the dungeon with a head full and a panic brimming at the corners of his consciousness. An Outstanding was a Park Jimin level of smart and a 24/7 level of commitment—something Hoseok himself has only accomplished once. What the fuck was he going to do?

He ponders this question as he leaves the dungeons of the potions classroom, where Park Jimin is waiting near the entrance. 

Jimin grins, detaching himself from the wall to approach his friend. “Are you still my potions partner?” He asks jokingly, matching Hoseok’s pace as the pair of them make their way towards the Great Hall for breakfast. The tall glass windows bring in that morning light, the haziness of morning stretching out past the horizon of the mountains outside. 

Hoseok huffs. “Maybe not for long. Professor Slughorn says I need an Outstanding classification for his next exam or he’s gonna kick me out of class.” 

Jimin whistles. “That’s the highest grade in the school from one of the hardest classes you’ll take at Hogwarts. Potions exams are no joke.” 

“I know that,” Hoseok snaps. “I took the exam. I’m aware they’re hard. Otherwise I wouldn’t be in this fucking position right now.” 

“Spicy,” Jimin rebuffs, nudging Hoseok with his shoulder. Hard. “But hey, don’t be a dick to me. You failed on your own merits. You’re lucky Professor Slughorn is actually nice and is letting you off with a warning. If this was first year and he didn’t know jack shit about you, you’d be gone.” 

Hoseok sighs. He doesn’t apologize, however, but it’s implied with his momentary lingering glare. “So, uh,” He starts. “You got time to help me out during study periods? Outstandings require like… near perfect scores. I only got that score on the O.W.L. for Defense.” 

Jimin gives Hoseok a long look. “I would help you Hobi, but I recently got roped into some Ministry of Magic project with that transfer student from Ilvermorny. Professor McGonagall’s orders. It’s a pretty heavy assignment, so I could still try to arrange some time for you…” 

“Nah, it’s okay,” Hoseok cuts in, waving him off. “I’ll figure something out.” 

Jimin ponders this for a moment as he and Hoseok linger outside the Great Hall, waiting for their other friends to show up as per usual. “You sure? I could make time. No worries dude, seriously.” 

“Like I said, it’s fine,” Hoseok brushes off once more, eyes roaming around the hallway. Several unfamiliar students pass the pair of them before you show up and catch his eye. “Uh,” He starts with Jimin, looking at you but directing his voice to Jimin. “If the guys show up, go ahead without me. I’ll catch up in a second.” 

Jimin looks over Hoseok’s shoulder, looking vaguely curious about where Hoseok’s interest in engaging conversation with you has come from, but shrugs it off when Kim Taehyung appears. 

“Hey!” Hoseok calls, saying your name and making you look up from your conversation. “Hi,” He repeats, smiling from you to Sana and back to you. “I need to talk to you.” 

You roll your eyes. “No, Jung Hoseok, I didn’t rat you out to Professor Slughorn and no, I didn’t imply that you were the one to mess with my ingredients.” 

Hoseok snorts. “Okay first of all, I know Professor Slughorn figured that out on his own. I know you weren’t smart enough to piece anything together—!” He cuts himself off when your glare narrows into something that implies you’ll murder him in his sleep. “Right.” He readies himself. “I need to talk to you.” 

You look at Sana and sigh before looking back at Hoseok. “What is it?” 

He’s quiet for a second. “You’re good at potions, right? Like, you’re actually good at knowing ingredients and shit?” 

“Where exactly is this going?” You snap back, looking slightly hurt that your expertise in potions was being put under question. Not that it was ever Jung Hoseok’s responsibility to know your grades. Not that he cares, anyways. 

“She’s good,” Sana interjects politely. “She got an Outstanding classification on the recent test.” 

Hoseok brightens. “Thank you Sana.” 

“Hey,” You protest. “Who’s side are you on?” 

Sana gives you a look. “Are you saying that you were just going to ignore him? While he’s standing right in front of you?” 

Your glare deepens. “Why don’t you go and save me a seat for breakfast? I’ll catch up.” 

Sana laughs. “Alright then.” She turns to Hoseok. “See you around, Hoseok.” 

Hoseok tilts his head up. “Later, Sana.” He waits until Sana has entered the Great Hall before he’s turning back to you. “So, an Outstanding classification. You’re pretty smart then.” 

Your glare doesn’t go away. Instead, your eyes narrow in suspicion. “What do you want?” 

He seems to ponder this. “I’m giving you an opportunity. I’m in need of a tutor for potions and you seem…” He waves towards all of you. “Vaguely qualifiable. What do you say?” 

You look like he’s grown a third head. “Are you serious? If you’re actually trying to get me to help you out, you’re not doing a very good job of selling yourself. In fact, you’re coming off as more of a dick than usual.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Why don’t you ask your actual smart friend over there?” You gesture towards the entrance of the Great Hall, where Park Jimin is only now sliding into one of the tables. Around him are the company of Jungkook and Taehyung—all three of them laughing mid-conversation. 

Hoseok turns back to you. “Jimin is busy.” 

You give him a tight smile. “And so am I. Goodbye, Jung Hoseok.” 

“Hey, wait, come on,” Hoseok cuts in, not entirely used to rejection of this degree. He’s more accustomed to friends rearranging schedules for him, to students watching his movements with awe. Not disgust, which is the look you’re giving him right now. “Don’t be like that. I need help.” 

“Wow, you’ve really built up a case this time. I’m jumping out of my seat with glee and anticipation,” You remark sarcastically. 

Hoseok bites his tongue. He speaks without thinking. “You should be honored I’m asking you for help. I’m a Jung—people part for my family because they know how important we are. What’s up your ass anyways?” 

Your gaze on him turns from annoyed to appalled. “What’s up my ass?” You echo. “You think I give a shit about how you’re connected to your family? Based on your work ethic alone, you’re unrelated to them for all I care. The fact that you’re using them to justify your dick behavior is blowing my mind right now,” You sneer, taking a step back away from him. “Tutoring you isn’t an ‘opportunity’, Hoseok. It’s an anchor.” With that, you turn around and Hoseok alone in the hallway. 

To say he’s frustrated would be an understatement. He lingers, watching you make your way into the Great Hall to join your friends. For some reason, your rejection just makes him even more attuned to your actions and gestures—the way you join your friends at the table, the way you reach for the food lined up along the center of the long table, the way you smile as if you hadn’t been snapping Hoseok out just seconds ago. 

With a huff, he too steps into the Great Hall and slides into the corner seat along with his friends. 

Jimin laughs, sticking his fork into some bacon and eggs. “What happened?” 

Hoseok scoffs. “What makes you say something happened?” 

“Dude, it’s written all over your face,” Jimin retorts, gesturing to Hoseok with his fork. “She pissed you off. What happened?” 

“Does it even matter?” Hoseok returns, reaching over to grab the cup laid out for him. It immediately fills up with the morning drink of his choice—coffee. “Just being frustrating and yelling at me, as per usual.” 

Jungkook laughs. “That is true.” 

“Anyways…” Hoseok starts up, craning his neck just slightly to see you further down the table, still smiling and joking around with your own friends. “She said something that really bothered me. So I think I’ll send her a little present of thanks.” 

Very slowly, he takes his wand out of his robe and rummages through his bag for a box. With the mutter of a spell underneath his breath, the box turns invisible with only the vague shimmering blurriness of its space to give an indication of its location. Hoseok raises his wand up, and the box follows, as it floats soundlessly down the table and past the other small clusters of students partaking in their own morning eating. Most don’t notice, too involved in their personal conversations or trying to shake off the morning exhaustion in time for lessons. 

The box lingers when it reaches you, and Hoseok drops his wrist so the contents inside the box sprinkle all over your breakfast food. 

“Accio box,” Hoseok hisses, watching as the box flies towards him before catching it with one hand. At his friends momentarily bewildered look, he flashes the now visible product towards them. “Hiccough sweet,” He explains, tossing it to Jungkook when the latter opens up his arms with a silent question. 

Jungkook catches the box and turns it over to read the product description on the back. “A Zonko’s Joke Shop Product,” He reads. “Induces a hiccoughing fit when consumed.” He looks up. “So you just need to eat this and…?” 

An utter of your name is heard from across the table. “Are you okay?” 

You cough, hitting your chest with the palm of your hand. A round of hiccups escape you as your whole body jerks with each spasm of your diaphragm. “Maybe I—hic—ate too fast—hic—!” You try for a glass of water, but your hiccoughing makes you choke just before you can down the liquid, causing only further coughing and discomfort. 

Hoseok watches the whole thing with a grin on his face. 

In the midst of your coughing fit, you catch Hoseok’s eye and don’t have too much trouble deceiving his grin this time. It also helps that he’s waving the box of Hiccough Sweet at you. 

Your lips part in shock. “Jung—hic—HOSEOK—!” The noise of your hiccups grow louder to echo through the breakfast hall. The increasing silence doesn’t help as your struggles only become more and more apparent. 

Your lips part in shock as the noises of your hiccups grow loud enough to echo through the breakfast hall. The increasing silence doesn’t help as your struggles only become more and more apparent. 

Sana seems to catch wind of this and places a hand on your back as you gasp in between your fit of hiccups. “Maybe we should go to Madam Pomfrey and see if she can fix this,” She says, helping you out of the seat as you cough in between your hiccups. 

You point to Hoseok as you and Sana make your way out of the Great Hall. “I’m—hic—going to kill you—hic—so you better make sure I don’t—hic—see you in the hallway—hic—you dick!” 

Hoseok is still mid-laughter as you and Sana leave the hall, bringing the curiosity of whispers and rumors along with you.

. 

You don’t return to the house dorms that night, something about how Madam Pomfrey couldn’t figure out how to combat the hiccough sweet and had to take some time to figure out how to settle your diaphragm down. Hoseok had giggled about it then, and continues to smirk about it hours later as he exits the castle and makes his way down to the Gamekeeper’s hut along the edge of the Forbidden Forest. Today is Saturday, and the breeze is calm but the clouds are collecting along the edges of the sky with the telltale signs that a storm is coming up soon. 

Regardless of the weather, Hoseok is still making the trek out as he crosses down dirt pathways and rocky inclines—finally reaching the hut and the gates of magical creatures that are housed within the area. Today, Kim Namjoon is out there begrudgingly combing through the cages of the Blast-Ended Skrewts. 

Hoseok lingers outside the cage for a moment, watching his friend partake in the very activities he had talked about and laughed about months prior. 

He speaks finally. “If I decided to hit this cage, would the skrewts start shooting fire at me?” 

If Namjoon is surprised by the visit of his friend, he doesn’t show it. “No, they’d start shooting fire at me so for the sake of our sanity, I’d appreciate it if you didn’t.” 

Hoseok grins. “I’m sure that the zookeeper who is supposed to be mentoring you would appreciate the sentiment.” 

Namjoon flicks him off instead, and the pair wallow in silence as Namjoon continues cleaning up the cage until the area is spotless. Quickly, he opens the cage and shuts it behind him to signal his completion of the task. The silence stretches on as Hoseok reaches into his bag and pulls out a roll, referring to a common activity between the two of them, as the air quickly fills with purple smoke that smells of berries. 

“What about your problem?” Namjoon asks after a few minutes. He shakes his roll. “The potions girl had a bit of trouble recovering from your hiccough sweet prank, so I’ve heard. Is that supposed to help convince her that she should tutor you?” 

Hoseok blows smoke. “Probably not. But she called me an anchor!” 

Namjoon snorts. “Because you’re asking someone to help you study when you can be pretty shitty at studying because of your even shitter attitude? Especially regarding potions, AKA your hardest subject?” He looks out. “I’m surprised she didn’t say anything worse.” 

Hoseok narrows his eyes at his friend. “You dick. You’re not exactly a model citizen either. What the fuck do you think got you into this position in the first place?” 

The pair of them bicker for a little longer—conversations indulging through the activities of different classes and the different affairs going on amongst their friend group, before the aforementioned heavy clouds groan from above. It’s an angry sound, a crackle of noise that splits through the sky and gives a warning of what’s to come. 

It’s a warning that only lasts a few seconds before rain starts pouring down from the sky, loudly pittering and pattering against the ground. Taken aback by the sudden nature of the weather, as well as the heavy weight of the rain drops themselves, Hoseok and Namjoon scramble to collect their belongings. Namjoon turns his attention back to the magical creatures around him, the rain starts to soak through his hair. 

“I need to clean up,” Namjoon says, slightly begrudgingly, but firm nonetheless. 

So Hoseok nods. “I’m gonna try and head back.” The pair of them exchange one last final parting before going their separate ways. 

Despite Hoseok claiming a trip straight back to the castle, he doesn’t follow through immediately. He takes a bit of a detour, towards another place he knows he can remain alone and unbothered—a place that usually allows him to wallow in his thoughts given how it’s always unoccupied during certain days. 

He heads towards the greenhouse. 

But the time he’s reached the outskirts of the house, he’s soaked through his robe and his hair is promptly sticking to his forehead. The cool temperature invokes a slight shiver as Hoseok still pushes open the door of the greenhouse and closes it behind him. 

He basks in his alone time for a grand total of five seconds before—! 

“Jung Hoseok?” It’s your voice, and Hoseok groans. You’re not exactly the first person on the list of people he wants to see right now, especially after the whole hiccough sweet thing the other day. Not that he’s actively trying to avoid you, but seeing you is like salt in the wound. It’s definitely vice versa for him to. 

He whirls around to see you having stepped out from an enclosed area of the greenhouse, a separate place of the building separated by more glass for advanced herbology students. It’s closed off from the main portion of the greenhouse to ensure that curious first-years don’t accidentally mess with plants that could alter one’s memory or other forms of dangerous enchantments. You, however, are prepared for this—with your dragon-hide gloves and rolled up sleeves of your white polo shirt. 

When he doesn’t say anything immediately, you only further narrow your eyes at him. “What are you doing here? Last time I checked, idiots don’t need to drop by the greenhouse.” You jerk your chin towards the outside. “In the rain of all times.” 

He ignores your insult to approach you instead. “I was just escaping the rain, thank you very much. Very cozy in here. And I’m totally fine, thanks for asking.” When you don’t say anything, he clears his throat. “So, what are you doing here?” 

You gesture towards the area of the greenhouse you’ve just emerged from. “Do you have eyes? I’m here for an assignment.” 

“Ah.” Hoseok nods. “That’s right, I forgot you like the play with plants.” 

You frown. “It’s not playing with plants, I’m observing them—!” You cut yourself off, seeming to decide it wasn’t worth fighting this battle. You raise your hand and make a noise of self-protest in the back of your throat. “You know what? Whatever. I’m done for today anyways so I’ll let you roam free in here. Touch a plant and lose your memory for all I care.” You disappear back behind the advanced herbology section of the greenhouse once more to put your equipment back in the proper place, leaving Hoseok back at the entrance.

A few seconds pass before you’re emerging once more with your school blazer over your shoulder, brushing past Hoseok and turning the knob to exit the greenhouse—leaving Hoseok behind. 

Watching you leave, somehow, is even more frustrating than enduring a conversation with you, which is why Hoseok dashes towards the door you’ve just closed to pull it open again. You’re up ahead, blazer over your head and your shoes splashing into the puddles on the ground. 

“Y/N, wait!” Hoseok calls, closing the door and jogging over to catch up to you. 

Your pace doesn’t let up. Neither does your disdain for him as you look over your shoulder to continue barking at him. “What do you want, Hoseok? Doesn’t putting hiccoughing sweet into my breakfast fulfill your quota of torturing someone for the week?” 

“What?” Hoseok shakes his head. “No, no, it’s not about that. It’s about the thing, the—the other thing!” 

“The other thing…?” You trail off, before stopping dead in your path. Hoseok would have crashed into you had he been running behind you rather than next to you. But alas, he slows down into a standstill. The rain continues to pour down on the two of you, further soaking Hoseok past his already wet clothes. You yourself lower the blazer off your head, allowing the rain to touch the strands of your hair. “Are you seriously bringing that up with me again?” 

Hoseok swallows. Every little micro aggression you direct towards him only eats at his confidence more and more. Not used to being rejected as many times as he currently has, he finds that he has a harder time trying to formulate the right words into the right sentence, he actually stammers. “I just thought…” 

“Thought what?” You interrupt. “That avoiding me would make me forget how much of a dick you are? That’s right, you don’t think I noticed what’s been going on for the past few days. You’re filled with guilt and you think ignoring the problem will just make me forget it long enough to be your stupid tutor. But let me tell you something, Jung Hoseok.” You take a step closer to him, close enough where he can see the rain drops clinging to your lashes. “Nothing can make me tutor you.” 

You step back, turn around and start your walk towards the castle once more before Hoseok sighs loudly into the air. He says something that he hasn’t said since he was ten. “I’m sorry!” He calls out, yelling it through the space between you. 

That makes you falter slightly, having never heard those two words spoken to you before. You stop walking, looking over your shoulder to stare at him—give him a chance to further explain himself. 

Hoseok sighs again, trying to quickly formulate his thoughts into words before you lose interest and continue to think he’s full of shit. “Professor Slughorn called me in the other day and said that if I don’t get an Outstanding classification on the next exam, I’m basically out of the potions N.E.W.T.s. If that happens then I won’t get into the auror program after graduation—and yeah, I’ll be a disappointment to my family. So I, uh… need your help. Please.” He says the last word more as an afterthought, more of a grumble. 

It’s quiet for a moment, save for the sound of rain pattering against the grassy pathway. A part of Hoseok really thinks that you’re going to curse him out again, tell him to piss off now and forever. But you speak. “What was that?” You say. “The last part.” 

There’s a slight smile in your voice, as if you know what he said but just want to hear him repeat nonetheless. 

“Please,” Hoseok tries again, a little stiffer but a lot louder. 

“One more time?” 

Hoseok glares harder, but he’s not sure you can see it through the rain. 

Finally, you take a step towards him. Your shoes squish against the mud, stopping when you’re arms length away from him. “You must be desperate,” You say at last, running a hand across your forehead to rid of some of the water that has collected there. At last, you yourself emit a sigh as you rummage through your bag for your wand. You pull it out, pointing it up to the sky as a clear veil comes out from the tip—an invisible umbrella. The rain hits the surface of your spell-produced umbrella, but it’s a protection that only covers you up. Hoseok continues to feel the rain soak through every part of him. “Fine,” You acknowledge after a moment. Hoseok feels his heart lurch in his chest. “I’ll tutor you—but, if you fuck with me even once… if you show up late or don’t take this seriously, then I’m out. I won’t even give you a warning. This is my warning.” 

Your strong-hold and straightforward attitude about your conditions to tutor him leaves Hoseok vaguely starry-eyed. Not that you aren’t normally no-nonsense, but to see you take so much control over something he is a part of makes him stunned. 

So he utters the only thing he is capable of uttering with a full head. “S-Sure,” He manages. 

That seems to be enough for you, because you give him a curt nod. “Tomorrow afternoon, 2pm,” You throw out. “That’s when I’m done with lunch. Meet me in front of the library.” 

“Y-Yeah…” Hoseok says, trailing off as he watches you leave, taking your energy and the pitter-patter of your umbrella with you down the pathway and back toward the castle. 

.

He doesn’t even want to try and entertain the possibility of fucking around the following day—doesn’t even want to see if you were perhaps joking around when you threated to back out of the tutoring arrangement if he so much as breathed wrong in your direction. He shows up five minutes before the agreed time.

You show up a minute before, readjusting the strap of your bag, but you stop at the sight of him lingering outside the library. You wear an unreadable expression as you approach him. 

Hoseok stares right back. “What?” He says, trying to keep the bite out of his voice. 

You shake your head. “Nothing, nothing. Nice to see you passing the first test of showing up early..” Without another word, you make your way into the library with Hoseok hot at your tail. 

The two of you eventually settle into a tiny corner booth encompassed by shelves of books. The library is quiet considering it’s a Sunday afternoon when most normal students are probably fighting the food coma of lunch. Normally, Hoseok would be one of those people—would prefer to just relax outside in the courtyard with his body laid out amongst the grass and the conversations of his friends putting him to sleep. The momentary visual of that is contradicted to his current predicament: inside the library and the uncertain nature of the current situation leaving him apprehensive. It’s an emotion he isn’t accustomed to. 

“So,” You start just as Hoseok is settling into his chair. You lean forward, fingers lacing together as you regard him with a curious look. “We need to figure out how much you know. Can you tell me what bezoars are and what it’s good for?” 

He stares at you. 

You kiss your teeth as you twist in your chair to collect parchment from your bag. “Alright. This’ll be a good next few weeks.” The dryness in your tone is hard to ignore. 

Hoseok furrows his eyebrows. “Why, what’s wrong? What’s a bezoar?” 

You sigh. “What’s wrong is that bezoars were the first things we studied this year in class. Honestly, Jung Hoseok, how did you even make it to this level of potions?” 

“Hey,” He exclaims, actually pouting at you. Just a little, but the defeat in his tone is present—still guilty for not knowing what bezoars are. “The O.W.L.s were easier. And Park Jimin is one of my best friends, he usually tutored me right before the exams. And exams from last year were made for more memorizing rather than actually giving me a foundation for this shit.” 

You waver in the collection of your materials to give him a look. 

He looks right back at you. “What?” He asks again, a little sharper this time. 

You lift your hands up as if to deflect his self-conscious attitude. “Nothing, it’s just—you’re pretty observant about that kind of stuff. And I would even go so far as to agree with you. Those tests were pretty brutal.” 

“Yeah, exactly…” The notion of you actually agreeing with him feels like a few weights off his shoulders. Hoseok settles himself deeper into his seat. “So I honestly just forgot the information as soon as I finished the test.” 

You nod slowly. “Okay… that’s fine. It’s a problem, however, because you really need to know all this information if you’re gonna need to pass the upcoming potions exam and even further for the N.E.W.T. exam. Just memorizing and forgetting for each test isn’t going to work this year. But, for this upcoming potions test, this is what you’ll be tested on.” You produce another parchment that contains a small list of ingredients and actual potion brews. “Professor Slughorn said that the next exam will be a combination of concepts learned from the first test as well as the lessons after that.”

Hoseok takes the parchment from you and feels his eyes almost bug out of his head. The list itself isn’t too long—just a handful of ingredients and potions—but the subheaders are filled with different points that would need to be covered in the exam. Like where specific ingredients could be found, what season would be the best time to grow them, if they could be grown, what potions from class one would find this ingredient, and the general purpose of the ingredient. For potions, pointers you’ve written cover the intention of the potions and the ingredients required. 

The new knowledge that he would need to know all this information fills Hoseok with a sense of dread, before the doubt settles in. “There’s no way it has to be this detailed.” 

You glare at him. “Hey, why would I take the time to write out all these different subheaders otherwise? Last time I checked, I was the one who passed and you were the one who failed.” 

“You don’t think I know that?” Hoseok snaps. “Why else do you think I’m here?” 

You slam the textbooks and parchment you’ve brought over onto the table. “Are you seriously trying to pick a fight with me over this shit right now?” You run both your hands through your hair. “Look, you don’t like studying and memorizing and applying yourself—I don’t get it, but who the fuck am I to spare brain cells in trying to make sense about you. But this is the reality of the situation. You get out what you put in. If you would prefer Park Jimin to tutor you and whisper the answers to you when the professors aren’t looking, then be my guest.” 

“No! No, okay, fine, I’ll stop,” Hoseok interjects tensely. “I guess you just make me a reactionary person.” 

You make a side-eye at that comment, but don’t say anything to further drive the wedge already in place between the two of you. “How good are you with retaining information?” 

“Depends how mean you are to me,” Hoseok mutters. 

You ignore his jab to open up your copy of Advanced Potion Making. “Alright, well, I guess we can start with going over bezoars…” 

.

You can not fathom why you decide to tutor Jung Hoseok. Thinking clearly about it, there isn’t a gain or a loss to come out of helping someone who has done nothing but make your many years at Hogwarts challenging and terrifying at the same time. You know that he doesn’t purposely single you out, and more often than not it’s just the misfortune of being at the wrong place at the wrong time—Hoseok doesn’t have the bad blood in him to target one person (unlike his friends), but his carelessness doesn’t excuse years of frustration and annoyance. 

Given those feelings, you almost said no. In the beginning, you had been fully prepared to reject his ass over and over again until he gave up. It wasn’t difficult at first, with his arrogance shining through and doing well to push all the right buttons that drove you to a rejection in the first place. 

But that day in the greenhouse had changed some things. Hoseok had been the most vulnerable you had ever seen him, showed the most humility, and actually seemed human. And you’ve always had a soft spot for vulnerability—makes you feel guilty if someone poured their heart out only to get rejected once more. So you accepted. 

Besides, even though you aren’t sure how to tutor, you painted yourself as a good student and assumed that teaching someone concepts that have already been reviewed before would be simple. 

But you were very, very, very wrong. 

“For the last time, Jung Hoseok,” You seeth, fingers pressing deep into your temples as you rub. “A fluxweed is part of the mustard family, grows purple flowers, and is known for its healing properties. Knotgrass doesn’t sprout flowers—it’s used for polyjuice potions and is brewed to make knotgrass mead. How do you keep fucking this up?” 

“They both have a grass differential in their name!” Hoseok whines, throwing himself back into his seat. “Weed and grass is very confusing! How does a grass ingredient not sprout a flower but a weed ingredient does? That’s too weird!” 

“It’s not weird, it’s just the way things are!” You snap back. 

“The fact that you say that only makes it more weird!” 

You have to zero in and read an excerpt on fluxweed to calm the nasty flare of anger that lights up in your stomach. Not only is tutoring Hoseok not simple, but it turns out he has difficulty memorizing very basic ideas of things he has zero interest in. How on earth did he pass his O.W.L. for this fucking subject in the first place? 

The pair of you were in your third week of tutoring, still reviewing concepts from the beginning term. With the next upcoming potions exam rapidly approaching, the seeds of doubt start to grow in your mind, an unsure feeling that the pair of you could catch up to the rest of the material. Your growing frustration over Hoseok’s inability to retain the information is also starting to get in the way of proper tutoring sessions. 

Basically, you’re at your ropes end. The hour-per-three-days you have spent tutoring Hoseok could have been spent studying for your own assignments and own weaknesses. Or perhaps seeing a therapist on how to stop letting people like Hoseok take advantage of you. 

“You’re being so impossible right now!” You shriek, ignoring the wandering eyes of other students who glance over at your outburst. “How are you not retaining this information? It’s almost like the only time you’re studying for this class is during our tutoring sessions…” You glance over at him, seeing the vaguely guilty expression in his eyes, and you feel your heart race pick up—the feeling of fight or flight coming over. “Please do not tell me that’s what you’ve been doing for the past three weeks.” 

“Hey…” Hoseok protests. “That’s just how I studied with Jimin. Maybe if we met everyday I’d retain the information better.” 

You turn to face him completely this time, eyes wide and body shaking with only thinly veiled irritation. “Do you think…” You start, voice already rising. “Do you think I have the time or the patience to go that far when I’m already sticking my neck out for you? Why can’t you just work around what I’m giving you—?” You begin to feel it, the anger settling in your throat and the heat of your face bringing tears to your eyes, the absolute frustration of the situation and the fact that you have only yourself to blame for the outcome. 

But, someone new swoops in to interrupt your raging. 

“Hey, there you are Jung Hoseok.” You manage a quick glance in the direction of the voice before turning away to collect your thoughts. It’s Kim Namjoon—one of Hoseok’s good friends and lead writer for the Hogwarts Daily. The thought of being seen and reported on by Namjoon brings you enough nerves that you choose not to make eye contact. You merely look away to blink away your anger and swallow your frustrations. 

It’s hard though, especially when Hoseok and Namjoon start to have a conversation as if you aren’t even here. 

“What’s up?” Hoseok asks, after the two of them engage in their handshake. “Is everything okay?” 

“Yeah, same as usual.” Namjoon stuffs his hands into his pockets. “I just wanted to ask if you were free. Jungkook wants to go down to the Three Broomsticks.” You’re in the middle of flipping through your copy of Advanced Potion-Making when Namjoon adds on one more line: “It doesn’t seem like you’re doing anything important anyways.” 

Then, Hoseok laughs. 

That final sound makes you feel like something has snapped inside of you, with that white hot anger coursing through you once more with no force inside you willing to stop it. Without a warning, you slam the textbook shut. The sound of it crashes through the library. 

For the first time since Namjoon’s arrival, Hoseok looks over at you. “What’s wrong?” 

“Oh, okay, now you want to ask me what’s wrong,” You snap, standing up so fast that the bottom of your chair scraps against the floor. You start to collect your parchments and textbook into your hands. “This was a mistake. I should never have agreed to this.” 

Hoseok frowns, standing up as well. “Wait, hold on—are you mad at me?” 

You slam your bag onto your seat. “WOW, okay, for someone who was all signed up to take five fucking N.E.W.Ts, you do know how to lack critical thinking skills in all shapes and forms! Of course I’m mad at you! You lack respect, initiative, and any self-sufficient skills that could make you a fraction of a good student! It’s like you seriously expect me to solve all your problems and tell you exactly how to handle your situation and be honored that you chose me to do this, when in reality I just felt bad and I thought you reaching out to me would mean a change in your attitude. But clearly, I was wrong. You—you’re impossible to deal with! I can’t believe that I wanted to help you in the first place!” You spit out. your chest heaves up and down, the tears pricking in your eyes. The wetness makes your vision glossy, so you miss Hoseok’s expression drop. “I’m sure you can figure out your own way of passing the class.” 

With a final huff, you turn on your heel, ignoring the gaze of other students who watch you leave. You even brush past Madam Pince who looks seconds away from a scolding. The action leaves Hoseok alone in the library to mull over what has just happened. 

But would he even process what you’ve just said and actually take it seriously? Debatable. But you don’t even care. Your main focus is just to get out of the library as quickly as possible and find somewhere to scream.

You just heard towards the first place that comes to mind—the Hufflepuff common room. You brush past the painting, storming past the group of students conversing near the fireplace and up into the girls dormitory. After going through a maze of different hallways and doorframes leading into different bedrooms, you stop at your own—the door leading to your own bedroom. Inside, Sana is sitting atop her bed, flipping through the pages of a History of Magic textbook. She looks up from the book as soon as she sees you. “Hey, how was the tutoring session?” 

You don’t respond immediately. You brush past her, beeline straight for your own bed and throw yourself atop the covers. Landing face-first onto your pillow, you yell right into the cushion.

Sana jumps at the sound, immediately sliding off her bed to make her way towards you. “What’s wrong?” She asks, sitting on the edge of your bed. 

You pout to yourself for a moment, before you huff and proceed to flail your body atop your bed. Your arms and legs wiggle around, hitting the mattress before you stop and perform a 180 so that your back is resting on the mattress. The tears have disappeared from your eyes, but the angry weight still sits in your chest. “Hoseok is an ass, and I effectively quit from being his tutor today.” 

Sana tilts her head. “But I thought you guys were getting along okay.” 

You snort. “Understatement of the fucking year.” You push yourself up into a sitting position. “That bitch was only using our tutoring sessions to study for potions. The fact that he can’t even fit in supplemental lessons just to make sure he remembers what we’ve gone over. And when I brought it up he was so disrespectful about it! As if I don’t have other things to think about, and like he just expects me to worry about him on a daily basis!” You give Sana a look, before sighing and throwing yourself back onto your bed. “Whatever, it’s done. I can just go back to focusing on my own studying. Hoseok can drown for all I care.” 

Sana smiles as she reaches over to brush the hair that has fallen across your face. “How about we go down to Hogsmeade. I’ll buy you some candy, that should help you get over that jerk.” 

You lift your head to focus on your friend, the corner of your lips quirking up at her offer. 

“Okay, but I’ll just let you know that I won’t hold back,” You say, sliding off the bed and digging through your trunk to get your coat. 

“Since when do you ever?” Sana retorts, as the pair of you break off into giggles, making your way down the stairs into the common room and out into the castle halls. 

.

The crush of footsteps against the grass underneath gives away the arrival of new company. You’re laying in the courtyard outside of the castle, blanket under you and your own copy of Advanced Potion-Making at the edge of your fingertips. All it takes is one glance up to know who has decided to visit you. 

You close your eyes and let out a sigh. “Didn’t I say you should figure out your own way to pass potions?” 

Above you, Jung Hoseok shifts nearly on his stance, switching from one foot to another before he settles on standing straight. He’s doing something you haven’t seen him do in the many years you’ve been in his company: he’s staying quiet. 

His silence leaves you with little choice but to follow along. You push yourself up into a sitting position and lean back enough for your arms to aid in the upcoming of your posture. “How was the Three Broomsticks?” You ask. “You seemed excited to go off with your friend.” 

Hoseok winces at that. 

You catch it. “Yeah, I heard you laugh when Namjoon said it looked like you weren’t doing anything. How do you think something like that makes me feel? Invisible? Like shit, perhaps? Well then, you would be right.” 

Hoseok sighs. His eyes flicker down to an open spot on your picnic blanket. “C-Can I… Can I sit?” 

You only continue to glare at him. “No.” 

He ignores you, electing to just sit down anyways. 

You sigh. “First you can’t even respect my wishes, then you just go off and do whatever you want to anyways.” 

Hoseok glares right back at you. “Because I know you won’t listen to me otherwise. Just hear me out, alright?” 

You engage in a staring match with him, before scoffing and returning the attention back to your book. “Don’t you have another date at the Three Broomsticks to attend to?” 

Hoseok blinks once, twice, before looking down to fix his attention on the edge between the picnic blanket and the grass. “I didn’t go,” He admits quietly, under his breath. 

You tilt your head back, eyes rolling back momentarily before you train your gaze back onto him. “I can’t hear you—why even show up if you can’t even have an honest discussion with me—?” 

“I said, I didn’t go,” Hoseok cuts in, louder this time with a tinge of frustration in his tone. “Just because I laugh with someone doesn’t mean I agree with them. That’s why you were so mad, am I right?” 

Instead of denying or confirming his answer, you keep your mouth shut. 

That seems to be enough for Hoseok, who sighs as he runs a hand through his hair—the frustration over whatever miscommunication he thinks occurred between the two of you clearly affecting him. “Anyways,” He continues. If he’s baffled by your silence, he chooses not to comment on that. A good choice, honestly. “I didn’t go, so can we just continue our tutoring sessions?” 

You keep your gaze on him for a moment, before you look back down at your book. You pucker your lips together. “Nope,” You answer, emphasizing the ‘p’ sound. 

Hoseok recoils, taken aback by your response. “What? Why not?” 

You shut your book, a silence acceptance that you weren’t going to get any reading done at this rate. “If you think I’m just mad about you laughing at some stupid comment your friend made, then you’re a lot dumber than I thought and you would drive the auror department right into the ground. I don’t need that energy around me right now, so good day to you.” You open your textbook right back up and look down. However, it feels as if you’re staring straight through the page, not really absorbing the material and rather just waiting for Hoseok to make his next move. 

He does react with a scoff, looking away for a moment before training his gaze back on you. He’s quiet, and you think that he really is going to walk away, but he goes for his bag. Rummaging around, he produces a stack of ripped parchment papers. He stares down at his collection, before he hands the stack to you. “Here.” 

Your eyes flicker from the papers to his face. To your surprise, Hoseok actually looks embarrassed by what he’s showing you. His meekness gives the encouragement you need to reach out and take the stack. “What is this?” You ask, looking down anyways to find your answer. 

Your heart beats a little quicker at the sight—but it’s not an acceleration due to frustration or irritation. It’s something softer and quieter—touching. 

In your hands is a stack of flashcards ripped from a roll of parchment: potion ingredients on one side and all the requirements you had mentioned previously scribbled on the other side. 

Hoseok watches you carefully. “I, uh,” He starts. “I turned down going to the Three Broomsticks yesterday to work on these. Uh… I’m sorry. For being a dick. I shouldn’t have laughed at what Namjoon said. What I should have been doing was studying on my own though, especially since I know that I have my own shortcomings as a student. I shouldn’t have taken advantage of you going out of your way to help me. I should have been a better student, so… yeah. I understand if you don’t want to tutor me anymore. But I didn’t want us to end on terrible terms.” He reaches his arm back out to you, silently asking for the return of his flashcards.

It’s a request you don’t follow through on immediately. You stare between Hoseok and the cards he has just handed you and feel a soft flutter in your stomach—a notion of fondness? Or perhaps is it pride? Either way, it feels like you are seeing Jung Hoseok in a somewhat different light. His meekness and shy nature is coming out in more ways than you had ever expected it too and you are taken aback, and yet it heightens the curiosity you have for him. What other layers does Hoseok have? And are you willing to take the risk and find out? 

Hoseok raises an eyebrow at your unmoving stance. He jerks his hand up and down a few times to get your attention. “Hello? You good in there?” 

You snap out your trance, staring at Hoseok for a moment before looking back down at the flashcards. You skim through a few of them, thumbing through the parchment and flipping over a handful just to see what he’s written. He’s… surprisingly thorough. 

You close your eyes and let out a heavy sigh. You better not regret this. 

You extend your arm to return the stack of parchment back to Hoseok. “If you want, we can go over the details to make sure you can be as thorough as possible.” 

Hoseok takes his flashcards back, looking up to meet your gaze at the statement. He seems to be analyzing your expressions, waiting for you to tell him to piss off all over again. But when you don’t say anything, he speaks up. “What are you saying…?” 

“Look,” You cut in softly, looking down and refusing to make eye contact this time around. “You have already put in all this effort to apologize to me and I can see that you’re working hard. At this point, it seems like a waste if you aren’t able to pass your exam.” 

Hoseok looks stunned at your answer. 

You look away again. “Besides,” You continue. “I don’t want you to come bitching me if you happen to fail your exam and tell me that I held your fate in my hands—I don’t want you to make me feel guilty about this. That’s all.” 

Hoseok processes what you’re saying quickly, because he nods and flashes you a grin. But you can see the weight of tension and stress melt off his shoulders, because he holds himself up a little higher as nods a few more times. “Yeah, yeah, of course. I’ll, uh, let you get back to your own studying.” He straightens up, but keeps his gaze on you. “At the library after lunch tomorrow, right?” 

You kiss your teeth, pointing an index finger at him. “Sounds good, Jung Hoseok.” 

Rather than look back down at your notes, you find your gaze trailing after Hoseok’s retreating form. You watch the way he walks over to Jimin—the way the pair of them talk briefly before Hoseok is gesturing to you with the wave of his arm. Jimin looks at you, makes brief eye contact with you, before you’re turning away to gaze back down at your textbook. 

You cannot pretend you don’t feel the weight of Jimin’s stare as you wait for the two of them to disappear from your line of sight.

.

Hoseok is waiting by the entrance of the library by the time you show up, and the nervous shift in his weight tells you all you need to know about his apprehension. 

“Hi,” You greet, approaching him as Hoseok looks up to regard you almost cautiously. “Are you ready for today?” At his nod, you lean back in your body weight. “Just because you apologized doesn’t mean I’ll go easy on you, okay Jung?” 

He just nods again. 

“I just have one little quiz to give you before we can get started,” You continue. “If you can’t answer this, then you really are hopeless. But if you can answer it, I’ll tutor you and we can forget all this other shit happened. Tell what bezoars are and their purpose.” You ignore the face Hoseok gives you when you bring up the potential hopelessness of the situation. 

Bezoars—a reference to the very first question you asked him when you started this whole tutoring session. 

The vague allusion makes Hoseok laugh. Just a little though, because the smile disappears when he notices that you aren’t fucking around with that question. So he settles down and opens his mouth to answer the question. “Bezoars is an antidote for most poisons with the exception of basilisk venom, and it’s taken from the stomach of a goat. It’s formed from the collection of hair or plant fibre that settles in the gut of the animal. Most effective when you swallow it whole.” He wavers slightly. “That’s pretty much the basics.” 

You nod. “Impressive.” 

He shrugs half-heartedly. “I uh, pretty much stayed up all night working on those flashcards, which is where I learned all about bezoars.” 

You nod again. “Alright, that answer satisfies me.” You gesture towards the entrance of the library. “We are free to continue on with the lessons.” 

As you walk into the library, Hoseok is right behind you. “Are you saying you would have just walked away if I didn’t know the answer?” 

You snort. “Of course. It’s been a month since we started the tutoring session—if you didn’t know what bezoars were I would have run for the hills. Hence, me calling you hopeless.” 

“But naturally you aren’t going to do that,” He says, sliding into the seat at the table booth you’ve selected for the pair of you. “Because I’m awesome.” 

You glare at him, letting his self-praise settle for the matter of four seconds. “Okay,” You say, standing up and collecting your books in your arms once more. “It was really nice knowing you, Jung Hoseok, but I’m about to go run for the hills now—!” 

“Wait, wait, okay, I’m kidding, nevermind—!” 

.

Things get better after the conversation in the courtyard. Two weeks and two tutoring sessions later, Jung Hoseok is already in the library at your usual sitting spot by the time you arrive. You’re still in the haze of your lunch coma, but you become more alert at the sight of him hunched over his textbook. 

You pull your seat back, causing Hoseok to jump in surprise at your arrival. There is, however, a bag in your seat, one that Hoseok quickly tugs back onto his own lap. “S-Sorry,” He manages, flashing you a small smile. “I was just saving the seat for you.” 

You press your lips together to hide the momentary gap in your expression. “Thanks,” You return, sliding into the now vacant chair and placing your bag on the desk. “What are you working on today?” 

“I’m reading about garrotting gas,” Hoseok answers almost proudly, straightening up enough to flash you his textbook and the parchment he has set aside to take notes. After flashing a quick peek, you are clearly able to see the long line of bullet points he has made. 

“Wow,” You say, impressed by how far he’s gone. “You’ve covered a lot. When did you even get to the library?” 

Hoseok smiles sheepishly. He touches the back of his neck, a habit you’ve noticed recently that takes form in the presence of nerves. “About thirty minutes ago actually. I know garrotting gas is pretty advanced stuff so I wanted to get a head start. Plus… since Professor Slughorn taught it about a month ago I know I’m still behind.” 

“Nah, you’re catching up rather quickly, actually,” You interject with a smile of your own. “The fact that we’ve been able to cover all the first exam’s topics within the week is awesome. Your flashcards have really helped out.” You turn your attention to your own bag, missing the soft look Hoseok sends your way. It vanishes as soon as you look at him again. “Plus garrotting gas will be on the N.E.W.T. Nice to see that you’re planning ahead.” 

Hoseok actually rolls his eyes at that. Playful, but unbelieving. “I need to pass this potions exam first before I can think about the N.E.W.T.s. “ 

You laugh, reaching across the way to rest your hand on his shoulder. “At this point, if you don’t pass that potions exam, I will literally throw you off the Astronomy tower.” 

The next tutoring session comes on a Sunday, per Hoseok’s request. 

“I just want you to test me on the two potions we went over right after the first exam,” He explains. He’s selected a different spot in the library today: a table in the main area with enough space for the pair of you to sit opposite of each other. Something about you sitting directly across from him feeling more official, or something like that. You don’t understand it, but Hoseok seems eager to try. 

So you nod, folding your fingers atop one another as you give Hoseok a look. “Alright. So garrotting gas and the garnish pink blended poison, correct? Just to make sure you didn’t skip ahead.” 

Hoseok feigns a gasp, pressing his hand to his chest. “I would never.” 

You snort at that, closing your eyes and shaking your head. Clearly, it’s a rejection of an attitude Hoseok once held for the potions curriculum. The fact that you are able to joke about it and earn an equally sarcastic reply back shifts something in your heart—he’s now smiles with teeth. 

The pair of you go at it for a little bit—“garrotting gases are colorless that causes choking or even suffocation because the gas catches people by the neck if someone were to walk through it, and garnish pink blended poison are pink in color that have ten different components for ingredients. According to Golpalott’s Third Law, the effects of the poison could be countered with the adequate antidote or a bezoar.” 

You nod, corner of your lips turning up. “Good job. And you brought Golpalott in as well, which is always a plus. I would say that you pass the review then.” 

Hoseok grins and makes a little noise of satisfaction, a quiet little burst of excitement that makes your stare linger for an extra moment. Having never heard a sound like that from him, it makes you wonder what more he’s hiding from you. It’s also such a happy sound that you cannot help but smile back at his own happiness. 

Hoseok drums his fingers on the table, the smile still plastered to his face. “Hey, uh, want to cut this session early and enjoy some sunlight for once? Jungkook is in the middle of Quidditch practice and sometimes I like to go watch what he’s up to. Want to join me?” 

You blink at his offer, surprised that he would ask you something so forward. Not that Hoseok is a stranger by any means, shapes, or forms, yet you would never consider the pair of you friends or even people that hung out outside the barriers of your normal interactions. Which is why you are shocked by his offer. “You want me to join you?” You ask instead. 

Hoseok flushes at your question. He may have softened around the edges but it’s hard to let go of old expectations and it shows. “I-I mean,” He starts. “Obviously you don’t have to come with if you don’t want to. I just figured that you’d still be here studying when you could go get out and get some sun. Not that you couldn’t have gotten sunlight on your own, I just thought—!” 

“Hey, Jung Hoseok,” You interrupt, unable to hide the smile of pure amusement that takes over at the sight of him being so flustered. You’ve never seen him stammer through anything before. “What are you so nervous for? I’ll go to the Quidditch practice with you.” 

He blinks. “Really?” At your expression, he springs right into action. “Oh yeah, of course. His practice just started so let’s get going!” 

The pair of you start packing up you belongings, albeit not much was taken out to begin with given that Hoseok had only asked to meet up for a single purpose, so it doesn’t take long until you’re exiting the library and making your way through the hallways that will lead to the entrance of the castle. You and Hoseok talk briefly about Jungkook and some old memories, but most conversations fade out into a comfortable silence. 

You don’t mind the lack of talking. Hoseok’s presence has never made you uncomfortable per say. Irritated, annoyed, or frustrated would definitely be a better word to describe the nature of the dynamic you’ve always shared with Hoseok. Yet lately with all of your previous interactions, it seems to have softened the frustration into something else. What that something is, you aren’t entirely sure yet but you aren’t opposed to finding out. 

“You’re right, the sunlight is pretty soothing,” You speak up as the pair of you continue through the grassy fields and the flags and hoops of the Quidditch field grow larger with every step. 

Hoseok hums. “Was I right in that you were just going to continue studying on your own as soon as I left?” 

You cough. “W-Well, you weren’t wrong.” At his laugh, you immediately whirl to glare at the boy. “What’s wrong with studying huh!” 

“Nothing, nothing!” He protests, waving his hands back and forth. “Actually, I guess it’s good you’re a nerd who likes to study so much. Otherwise we wouldn’t have become friends.” 

“I think the word you’re looking for is an anchor,” You grumble, ignoring the fact that he’s just called you a friend—and further ignoring the fact that you aren’t completely grossed out by that label. 

Hoseok scoffs. “You dare use that word of insult against me? After everything we’ve been through!” 

“It’s not an insult,” You protest wildly despite the fact that it is, indeed, an insult. “It’s… well…” 

Hoseok raises an eyebrow. “Go on,” He beckons. “I’m listening.” 

You’re quiet for a moment. “Oh! Hey, look, it’s the Quidditch field!” You exclaim loudly, gesturing to the now extremely tall structure of stands and hoops above. “Shall we head up?” You ask, pointing upwards to indicate the higher elevation the pair of you will have to take in the hopes of seeing the Quidditch practice in its full glory. 

Hoseok points at you. “This conversation isn’t over.” He does, however, drop it long enough to lead the both of you into the tent and up the wooden stairs. It’s a long trek up to the top of the stands where the seats are located, but you make it eventually. Several other students are scattered across the area, some are grouped together with friends and others are watching the practice with bright eyes and wide smiles. 

Hoseok seems to notice you staring curiously at the solo watchers because he leans over to whisper something in your ear. 

“Those are some of Jungkook’s fangirls,” Hoseok explains, subtly gesturing to a few. “I recognize that one. And that one. And the one over there too.” 

You snort. “Seems like you’re also one of Jungkook’s fangirls if you can point some of them out so easily.” 

Hoseok chokes, taken aback by your analysis. He recovers quickly however. “Hell yeah I’m one of Jungkook’s fangirls. And I actually get to sit with him at lunch.” He winks. 

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Cocky as ever, I see.” 

The pair of you continue walking until you reach a more secluded area of the stands, less occupied by other students, so you and Hoseok can continue to converse amongst each other. 

“Not cocky enough, apparently,” Hoseok notes quietly, stuffing his hands into the pockets of his coat and looking out to watch the Quidditch practice. Up ahead, Jungkook performs some sort of twirl—a movement you aren’t super familiar with given that you aren’t the biggest observer of Quidditch technicalities. But it seems impressive, if the little shrieks and screams coming from the fangirls’ Hoseok pointed out to you are anything to go by. “You agreed to still tutor me even after calling me out on my bullshit.” 

You laugh. “Well, I would argue that me calling you out made you less of a cocky person.” You turn to him, nudging his arm with your own. “I never got to bring this up, but you’re actually a good student and you’re actually really good at studying. I didn’t know you were holding back on me, Jung.” 

Hoseok hums. “Not even.” He goes quiet for a moment, lacing his fingers together at his lap. “Well, I’m sure you know my family.” 

You snort. “As if. I probably expose that fact to people at least three times a day—!” 

Hoseok’s eyes glint. “Wait, you’re the reason I get auror-hopefuls coming up to me at random intervals of the day?” 

“Uh…” You trail off. “You know what, never mind about that. Keep going, you know, you and your family and stuff. Sounds like you were going in an interesting direction.” 

His glare softens the more he looks at you. “Well, coming from such an impressive family, honestly I never saw myself as someone who needed to apply himself. Things were always just sort of… handed to me, I guess? I grew up with Jungkook—I took him to his first Quidditch match actually. And then we just took more people into our group. Anyways, since things were handed to me, it just feels like I never have to try so hard because rewards were always the expectation.” 

You nod slowly. “That’s why you poured hiccough sweet over my breakfast food when I refused to tutor you.” 

He nods back, surprisingly acknowledging his past prank on you. “Yeah but since you’ve been cool about helping me out, it feels different. No one in my family has ever praised me or told me that I did a good job on something. So having you around fills me with pride. It’s getting to my head honestly, so you might need to stop otherwise I’ll revert back to my old ways.” 

Realizing that he’s slowly transcending back into his arrogant mode, you scoff and roll your eyes as you look away from him. “How about you just use your common sense and stop yourself before that happens.” 

Hoseok blinks. “I can’t tell if you’re being serious or not.” 

You make a face at him. “I’m always being serious.” With that, you turn your attention back to the practice session in front of you, missing the way Hoseok stares at you before smiling to himself and fixing his own attention back on the flying broomsticks ahead. 

.

One week before the next potions exam, you tell Hoseok to meet you along the edge of the Forbidden Forest where you are waiting with a textbook and a task in your mind. Hoseok shows up moments after you’ve gotten settled. The boy is all bundled up in a scarf and a long coat—all prepared to fight the winter weather that is threatening to overtake the school. 

You smile at his arrival. “Hello, Jung Hoseok.” 

Despite the layers that Hoseok is sporting, he still finds himself shivering slightly from the cold that seems to pass through him like nothing. “Aren’t you cold? What the fuck are we doing out here?” 

You shrug half-heartedly, a smirk dancing across your lips. “Oh I’m fine. See, I like to come prepared.” And prepared you are, with your thick fluffy scarf, fur-lined coat, and beanie that covers your ears. “This is a metaphor for our lives.” 

“No it’s not.” Hoseok deadpans across from you. 

You ignore him. “But alas!” You continue, opening your arms out wide for him. “The potions exam is one week away. Are you ready?” 

Hoseok presses his lips together, giving you a shrug. “I don’t know, probably, I guess—!” 

“Wrong answer!” You interject. “You should be ready. Do you realize how much time we’ve both put aside for this moment? Have more confidence!” 

“Is that why we’re out here?” He grumbles. 

You sigh after a moment, lowering your arms and leveling Hoseok with a glance. “No, that confidence should have been second nature to you by now. We’re here because I want to give you one final test.” 

“Oh.” Hoseok seems to straighten up at the mention of a final measurement to see how much he’s learned thus far. “Okay…” He ponders this for a moment before settling back down—probably just to acknowledge to himself that this was actually happening. “What kind of test?” 

You untuck your copy of Advanced Potions Making from under your arm and wave the book at him. “A finding test. This is really important, not just for Professor Slughorn’s exams but for the N.E.W.T.s as well. I like to kill two birds with one stone. I want you to find the ingredients for a potion of my choice. The one I’ve picked should make it easy for you to access the ingredients around this area—that is, if you know where to look.” 

“Okay… okay….” Hoseok replies, shifting the gears of focus in his mind, mentally preparing for the challenge. “What potion am I working for?” 

You smile at his question. “Elixir to Induce Euphoria, if you please.” 

Hoseok ponders that potion deeply for a second before he looks over at you. “When can I start?” 

Your grin widens. “Now.” 

So Hoseok runs off to gather the materials, to search high and low if necessary to find what he is looking for. You imagine that the ingredients necessary must be engraved in his mind, since this particular elixir is something the pair of you have just recently gone over in your tutoring sessions. Based on the reading you were both doing on the elixir, you know that all the ingredients could be found within the forest—albeit, the difficulties could be found from not knowing the specific flower to pick or which trees produce which kind of leaves. In the wintertime, with everything as bare as it is, it adds a level of challenge in identification. 

Yet, you are still confident in Hoseok’s abilities. The book knowledge he’s gained from the readings and the random quizzes you’ve had together definitely leave you with the sense that a practical test is fully possible considering how much progress he’s made. 

Hoseok comes back within twenty minutes, fingers clasped around the various goods and materials he has collected from the forest. 

You hold out your hands to inspect the ingredients, but Hoseok doesn’t hand them over right away. He holds them back, bringing the materials closer to his body. “Hold on,” He says. “I should tell you how to use the ingredients right? I’m sure that would be part of a test.” 

You think about this. “Fair point,” You agree, but you still hold your hand out. “Here, you can just give things to me in the right order.” 

Hoseok nods, looking down to sort through the various ingredients before he’s lifting up the first. “First, you add shrivelfig.” He holds up a purple fruit, roughly the size of his palm. “Originally from Abyssinia, but it’s an aggressive root allowing it to grow anywhere. I’m guessing that’s why Hagrid and Professor Sprout made a magically controlled garden for them near his hut.” He puts the fruit down into one of your open palms. “Next, add some porcupine quills—from porcupine, naturally.” He puts the few spines he has collected carefully into your hand. “Then you…” He searches his mind, finally snapping his fingers when he finds his answer. “Right, you stir four times in an anti-clockwise motion.” 

You watch him carefully, the corner of your lips turning up as you feel that rush of excitement and pride starting to take over you. He’s getting it all right so far. 

Seeing your smile, he continues. “The possible side effects of the elixir of induced euphoria include excessive singing and nose-tweaking so to combat that you should add a spring of peppermint right here…” He places the spring of peppermint in your open palm. “Add sopophorous beans… and finally some wormwood.” He, to your surprise, produces a tiny flask. 

Your eyes widen at the sight. “I-Is that where you put the wormwood?” 

The wormwood part of the ingredient is actually derived from the wormwood plant, meaning that there was a certain level of extraction required to gather this particular material. Knowledge that Hoseok had to put an extra level of thought into acquiring the wormwood makes your smile only grow wider. You don’t even have half the mind to ask where he got the flask. 

Hoseok gives you a tentative look. “D-Did I get it?” 

“You did!” You exclaim, throwing the ingredients up into the air and out of your hands. You start bouncing in place, unable to contain your excitement. “Y-You exceeded my expectations, and the fact that you wanted to tell me the process and you had a storage container for the wormwood plant? That just blows my mind right now!” The fact that Hoseok has gone from someone who once refused to pick up his own textbook to someone who voluntarily wanted to relay information from you, to someone who has become so prideful and confident about the straight facts he’s ripped for you—it gets to you. 

So much so that without warning, you find yourself cupping his cheeks and kissing him right at the corner of his mouth. 

The reality hits you as the icy cold realization washes through your veins. You back up immediately, holding your hands out as your heart takes to pounding as loud as it can in your chest. What the fuck did you just do? It was a spur of the moment reaction, sure, but again, what the fuck? 

Hoseok looks just as shocked as you, looking across with equally wide eyes at what has just transpired. 

Quickly, the humiliation floods through you. “O-Oh my god Hoseok I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” You brush off, taking a few necessary steps backwards and trying to wave off the previous action with your hand—as if something like that is even possible. 

Hoseok snaps out his trance quickly, leveling you with an unreadable gaze. “Hey, no, it’s okay—!” 

“No, no, it’s not okay,” You interject, feeling yourself start to spiral slightly as you run a hand through your hair. “That was such an unwanted advancement on you. I just… I don’t know what happened.” 

Hoseok becomes a little bolder at that, stepping towards you. “Y/N, I said it’s fine, I—!” 

“You don’t need to say anything,” You cut in again, giving him a tight smile. “I’m already embarrassed enough as it is—no need to chew me out for doing something stupid.” Without looking to see his next reaction, you kneel down to gather the ingredients (and the flask of wormwood) into your hands. You don’t make eye contact with Hoseok as you practically shove the materials into his chest. “Y-You did really well, I’m confident you’ll pass the upcoming test for sure.” You continue to stare at the ground. “I’ll, uh, see you around then.” 

Without waiting for him to say anything—for him to reject you—you run off, knowing that this time, you yelling into a pillow or crying will be for something entirely different from frustration. 

. 

Hoseok doesn’t see you until the potions exam, and even then you are a blur of robes and colors as you shuffle past him and into your seat right in front of him. Before he even has half the mind to reach over and talk to you, Professor Slughorn passes out the exams and the class is reduced to complete silence. 

You hand your test in before Hoseok even reaches the last page. 

But when Hoseok turns in his exam, he is confident—which is an emotion that doesn’t usually accompany him in these types of situations. The fact that he knows all of this confidence came from you only widens the gap of loneliness he feels when he knows he won’t be able to celebrate the completion of the exam with you. 

Professor Slughorn eyes Hoseok carefully as he takes the exam from him. “Why don’t you come by tomorrow to see your grade, Mr. Jung, so you can act accordingly.” 

Hoseok nods, ignoring the way his heartbeat is pounding through his ears. “Of course, professor.” 

That night, he sits in the Three Broomsticks, surrounded by friends but feeling alone. Not even Park Jimin, who lifts up a glass of his butterbeer in congratulatory graces, can shift Hoseok into Party Mode. So much so that Hoseok excuses himself from the restaurant to linger outside and dig his feet into the snow. 

He’s wandered off for so long that he isn’t surprised by Jungkook exiting the restaurant to check up on him. The latter boy shivers slightly, hands digging themselves into his coat pocket as he runs up to his friend. “Hey, everything okay?” He asks, tilting his head, big doe eyes watching his friend curiously. 

Hoseok regards Jungkook momentarily before he’s looking back out at nothing. “Yeah, I just have a lot on my mind.” 

Jungkook hums. “I thought you’d be happy. You’ve dedicated so much time to studying for that potions exam, after all. I really imagined that you would be through the roof. Maybe you’d celebrate with that girl who’s been tutoring you. I saw you guys show up to my Quidditch practice game that one time, it seemed like you were pretty close.” 

Hoseok huffs. “Well, I thought we were. I don’t know.” 

Jungkook tilts his head. “You want to talk about it?” 

So Hoseok talks. Only for a little, as to not bore Jungkook with useless details like the color of your eyes or the prettiness of your smile. He sticks to a storyline, discussing the nature of your relationship—starting from the arguments, going through his apology, and ending on your kiss. “She started apologizing like crazy,” He continues. “And going off on how uncalled for it was for her to do that. I was surprised, sure, but I wasn’t opposed to kissing her! Or her kissing me for that matter. But I tried to tell her and I guess she thought I was gonna reject her? Anyways that’s when she left and I saw her for a bit during our potions exam, but she seems hell bent on ignoring me.” He looks over at Jungkook, gauging for a reaction or even just a piece of advice. 

Jungkook remains silent, lips pressed together. 

Hoseok rolls his eyes. “Nevermind. I forgot you’re a womanizer and don’t need to worry about this kind of stuff.” 

Jungkook pouts. “When you put it like that…” 

Hoseok ignores him, choosing instead to straighten up into a standing position. “Anyways, let’s go back inside.” 

.

The following day, as Hoseok is heading towards the dungeons to get his exam score from Professor Slughorn, he spots you sitting at one of the open window sills with Sana. Blame his sixth sense for being able to detect your position, but his feet move before his brain can. One second, he’s standing at the edge of the hallway, and the next second he’s standing in front of you and Sana. 

Sana parts her lips in greeting, the smile ever-present across her lips. “Hey Hoseok—!” 

“I need to talk to you,” He interrupts, reaching for you until he’s grabbing your wrist. Without warning, he hauls you up and drags you up onto your feet. Ignoring your flabbergasted expression, he pulls you down the hallway into a secluded corner. Most of the general area lacks people and footsteps, but he prefers the privacy. 

He doesn’t even realize you’re trying to yank out of his grasp until he drags you forward to stand in front of him. Noticing your struggle, he lets go of you immediately. He manages a quiet apologize, one that you don’t notice because you are already opening your mouth to argue. “Are you crazy?” You shout. “Do you just always go around interrupting people’s conversations and being rude to my friends? Did you take some crazy pills this morning?” 

“Yah!” Hoseok cuts in. “I wouldn’t have had to do that if the person I’m trying to talk to wasn’t actually a child who thinks avoiding me can retroactively erase a month’s worth of interactions!” 

“I’m not trying to erase anything!” You argue back. Hoseok gives you a look, and you retreat slightly. Only slightly. “Intentionally, anyways,” You mutter. “But okay fine! What does it matter to you anyways? I’m embarrassed alright! I did something uncalled for and I wanted the ground to swallow me whole but I couldn’t do that so just being away from you seemed like the next best thing.” 

Hoseok maintains his glare on you. “Why would you be embarrassed?” 

You look like you want to snap his neck. “Because!” You start, voice initially loud and projecting clearly through the halls. You lower your voice into a hiss. “Because I kissed you,” You grit out between your teeth. “And just exposed the fact that I kind of like you now—!” 

“Okay but,” Hoseok interrupts. “I really like you too. And I didn’t mind that you kissed me.” 

You stop short, craning away from him. “Wait, what?” 

Hoseok gives you a small smile, but he diverts his gaze as to not embarrass himself fully. “I think you’re cool. And you would have heard me say that yesterday if you hadn’t run away like a dumbass!” 

Your face feels hot suddenly. “Hey, you were just staring at me! How else was I supposed to react!” 

“You had kissed me when I wasn’t expecting it! Sorry for trying to process things like a normal person!” He snaps back. 

You pout. “You should have run after me then. I felt like shit all day yesterday!” 

Hoseok makes a face back at you. “I’m not a mind-reader, how was I supposed to know that?” 

You sigh at that, bringing your fingers up to press against the bridge of your nose. “Okay, okay. At this rate, this argument will go back and forth for years.” 

“Sure,” Hoseok relents, backing away for a moment. “But I’m not a mind-reader.” 

You clench your hands at your side. “Fine, fine, I got it. I shouldn’t have run away, but—!” You raise a hand up to point a finger at him. “You should have been more transparent about your feelings!” With a huff, you lower your arm back down and cross them over your chest. “Anyways, uh…” You glance over at him, raising an eyebrow as you try really hard to keep the smirk from taking over your lips. “You like me too, huh?” 

Hoseok purses his lips out, also trying to hide his smile. “Maybe.” 

You start laughing, twirling your hair around your finger. “What was that, Jung Hoseok?” 

He glares. “Actually, what I need to tell you isn’t that important.” 

“No, no, c’mon,” You say, reaching out to latch around his arm. “Tell me.” 

Whether it’s the pout in your voice or the glint in your eyes daring him to refuse you, he relents. “I’m going down to the dungeons right now—Professor Slughorn offered to grade my test early so I could, uh, prepare any next steps. I was just wondering if you’d like to come with me.” 

Your gaze softens. “Yeah, I’ll go with you. Let me just let Sana know what’s up.” 

You make a quick detour back to Sana, still sitting at the windowsill, but she nods when you update her on the situation. Together, you and Hoseok make your way down the hallways and towards the dungeon. Hoseok doesn’t even realize how nervous he is until he reaches the steps leading downwards and his heart is thrumming to its own beat. 

You notice, because of course you do. “Hey,” You call softly, reaching over to take his hand. You squeeze it in your own. “You’ve prepared so hard for this. If you don’t get an Outstanding, I will go up to Professor Slughorn myself and tell him to stick his grading up his ass.” 

Knowing that you’re just trying to reassure him, he gives out an airy laugh of appreciation. “Thanks.” He squeezes your hand back before letting go. “I’m going in now,” He says, taking the stairs down towards his destiny. 

Professor Slughorn is in the dungeons when Hoseok pushes open the room—the older man is at his desk at the front of the classroom, papers folding from one pile to another on its own. With every sheet of paper that settles in front of Professor Slughorn, there’s a few movements of his quill, before the paper moves on to its next pile. Overall, a very efficient system. 

Professor Slughorn looks up at the sound of the door. “Ah, Mr. Jung. I was wondering when you were going to come in.” For a greeting, the statement is much too passive and neutral for Hoseok’s liking. Any indication of Hoseok passing or failing the test doesn’t shine through at all. “Well come in, come in. I have your exam ready.” 

Gulping, Hoseok steps deeper into the classroom, the heels from his shoes clacking against the stone floor. As soon as he approaches the desk, Professor Slughorn draws his wand and a single wave is required to have an envelope move from one corner of the table into Hoseok’s awaiting hands. 

“Best if you review your score outside, if you please,” The professor interjects, doing absolutely nothing to raise Hoseok’s confidence. The man hardly even spares him a glance as Hoseok turns around and exits the classroom—strangely filling like a dog with a tail tucked between his legs. 

You’re waiting near the stairs when Hoseok exits, and you’re all ears and attentive stares as Hoseok reaches the top. “So? What happened?” At Hoseok’s solemn expression, your gaze hardens. “Alright, I’m talking to the professor.” 

He stops you by tugging harshly at the sleeve of your robes. “I haven’t opened it yet.” 

You stop in your trail, eying the envelope. “Well then, take a glance!” 

With one final sigh, Hoseok looks down and tears open the parchment. He pulls out the script from inside—the paper with his exam grade. The red letters dance across the paper, the words PASS written next to Potions Examination. His eyes trail further down to see the ranking of his grade, to see if his hard work has paid off… 

On the bottom, written in Professor Slughorn’s fancy cursive: 

Classification: Outstanding

Hoseok jolts, his whole body moving backwards momentarily as if the words from the paper have slipped out to slap him across the face. He reads the single word once more, twice more, before he’s looking up at you with the widest grin. “Outstanding,” He relays. 

And you’re moving towards him at once, jumping up and down until you’re wrapping your arms around his neck. Hoseok doesn’t even care for the suddenness of the gesture, instead wrapping his arms around your midsection and lifting you up into the air. “Jung Hoseok!” You’re gasping out, pulling away from him to place your hands on his shoulders. “You did it!” 

“Hhhhholy shit,” Hoseok replies back, placing you back onto the ground but moving his hands to your waist instead. He sees you in front of him, bright eyed and full smiles with all teeth. “Thank you so much, I wouldn’t have done this without you.” One of his hands moves up to cup your cheek. “I could kiss you right now!” 

Your grin widens. “Should have done that yesterday too, Jung.” 

The smile slips off Hoseok’s face. “You’re really gonna bring that up against you son of a bitch—!” 

You lean forward and kiss him. It’s just a peck, a press of your lips against his own, but your lips are so soft that he cannot help but lean forward himself as you pull away as quickly as you had come in. That grin is back on your lips. “I did say too,” You say with a twinkle in your eyes. 

Hoseok almost rolls his eyes, before the door to the dungeons opens and you both hear a voice sound from the bottom. 

“I look forward to seeing you in class tomorrow, Mr. Jung,” Professor Slughorn calls, waving towards the pair of you—that smile finally pasted across his face. “Hopefully with a much better attitude from now on.” 

You and Hoseok step away from each other, but Hoseok doesn’t let you go too far as he draps an arm around your shoulder. “Oh don’t worry professor,” He replies, looking down at you for a moment. “My girlfriend will make sure of that.” 

#btswritingcafe #bangtan-bookclub #hoseok scenario #hoseok x reader #hoseok x you #hoseok fluff #hoseok angst #bts scenarios #bts fluff #bts x reader #traci writes #hp reputation series

[cheri-translates]

Hello cheri! How is your day? Im a fellow gavin stan but recently there is a guy stealing my attention and its shaw hahaha bt i still love gavin my 1st love on game. anyway on your opinion how did mc fell for shaw? And when shaw finds out he likes mc? Thank you ❤

(´･ᴗ･ ` ) Hello Anon! My day is great after receiving this interesting yet challenging question~ The development of a relationship requires the involvement of both parties, so I ended up discussing both questions simultaneously!

Here are the short answers to your questions, but do note that these are just my personal opinions:

1. She uncovered and accepted his complexities

2. Exciting Moment Date

A summary of the Shaw x MC dynamics can be found in these lines from Exciting Moment Date: 

Let’s dive deeper into each line.

-

1. “Emboldened by the straightforward response, I couldn’t help but move closer to him.”

For this, we have to chart the development of MC’s impression of Shaw across the dates.

Shaw’s first event (i.e. Night Fire) took place one week after MC entered the Winter World. In a world where nobody else recognised her, it was perfectly natural for MC to gravitate towards Shaw despite not knowing him well:

At the same time, her instincts cautioned her to stay away from him. After all, how good could a person be if he seemed to dye his hair in a flamboyant colour, wore a riveted jacket, and handed out fake identities like it’s nothing?

Her instincts also warned her that he was the one who attempted to strike Victor in Ch 10 of the main storyline:

At this point, she was likely experiencing two conflicting emotions. On one hand, she was very dependent on him and filled with gratitude for the emotional and practical help he gave her. 

In a world where she had no idea how to proceed, Shaw’s straightforwardness and self-assured nature likely provided her a huge sense of comfort.

At the same time, her instincts sounded the alarm bells in her head.

But being the kind and good-natured MC she is, she continued sticking around with Shaw and was even concerned for his well-being. 

Within the span of one day in One-Day Date, she didn’t just move closer to him physically, but also learnt that he’s actually a graduate student in Loveland University who takes his exams seriously. She also learnt that he’s a talented bass player, and also talented in graffiti. 

She learnt that perhaps there’s greater substance to this young man than she originally thought. And this led to her curiosity being aroused - what more could she uncover about this mysterious man?

One glaring commonality in Shaw’s early dates is that MC asks A LOT of questions. Just as Shaw was intrigued by MC, MC was equally intrigued by him, and actually expressed it even more clearly.

There are too many questions to list down, so here are Shaw’s reactions to them instead:

In the Rosa Rubus event:

In the Genuine or Fake Call from Seeking Date:

In Exciting Moment Date:

MC can’t help but draw nearer to him.

-

2. “The music was being played at a low volume. But because Shaw was wearing only one earphone and the room was quiet, I could still hear the sound of music coming from the other earphone.”

As mentioned at the start, both parties needed to take a step for the relationship to develop successfully. Hence, it didn’t matter if MC barraged Shaw with questions if he wasn’t receptive to them. 

He needed to take the initiative to “wear only one earphone” so that MC was able to understand him through the other. At the same time, MC needed to listen carefully to the “low volume” of Shaw’s genuine feelings.

To elaborate on the above paragraph, we have to understand the way Shaw operates.

In a recent Ask where someone asked about his personality, I mentioned that he’s straightforward like Gavin yet mysterious like Lucien. This might come across strange because how could such a contradiction exist?

But that’s exactly how Shaw is. The reason why Shaw behaves like this is due to a mix of nature and nurture. 

He’s naturally impetuous (e.g. drawn to adrenaline-stirring activities such as skateboarding, performing rock, sneaking into places he shouldn’t be sneaking into). But he was taught by experience and in the study of archaeology to be patient.

Basically, this mixture of nature and nurture results in push-pull dynamics when it comes to Shaw, and a beautifully crafted slow burn where Shaw has to grapple with his feelings for MC. I’ve done a post on his early feelings for MC which you can check out here!

[PUSH] In One-Day Date, he asked her out yet left her to dry:

[PULL] Afterwards, he invited her to indulge in his hobby, and even asked her keep her art on the wall even though he insulted it 5 seconds ago:

[PULL] In Exciting Moment Date, he wanted to spend time alone with MC:

[PUSH] But he didn’t have a concrete plan on what they’d do:

[PUSH] He made it seem like holding hands wasn’t a big deal:

[PULL] But he vehemently refused to let go:

[PUSH] In Exciting Date, he closed himself off:

[PULL] But relented soon afterwards:

Remember how I mentioned before that MC tended to barrage Shaw with a ton of questions in his earlier dates? Interestingly, Shaw didn’t actually mind them.

We see this in his Genuine or Fake Call from Seeking Date:

And also in his Future Bass Call from Exciting Date:

Deep down, Shaw wants to be understood. He wants to be heard. But he needs someone who’s thick-skinned enough to handle his sharp tongue, and to care enough to understand the hidden meaning behind his words, whether said or unsaid. I’ll return to this point at the end.

And at the same time, MC listens. Aside from asking questions about his present motivations, she also wanted to know about his past, and about him as a person:

Anger reveals a lot about a person’s true concerns, so let’s break down this particular line when MC went off on a little rant about Shaw:

In other words, “You’re a contradiction and I can’t comprehend how your mind works. I’m feeling frustrated because I can’t seem to understand your thought process. I wish you would stop disagreeing with me because I want to be on the same wavelength as you are. I really want to understand you."

-

3. “To my surprise, it was an instrumental - slow, deep, soft, mixed with the sound of rain.”

While Shaw engages in this this pull-push tango with MC while she tries to understand him, she is surprised when she sees that there’s more to Shaw than his bravado.

In One-Day Date, she notices his vulnerability:

In Seeking Date, she gets a glimpse of -

His seriousness:

His quietness:

His kindness in the way he kicked the stone away to prevent others from tripping over it:

His meticulousness, albeit slightly delayed:

In Exciting Date (including the prologue), she guesses that there’s more depth to Shaw that she realised:

She is also a recipient of his kindness:

Again and again:

-

4. “Gingerly, I moved another step toward him for a clearer listen.”

These traits drew her closer to him. She started trusting him without even realising it.

In Seeking Date:

In the prologue of Exciting Date:

She also picked up the way he speaks in the Rosa Rubus event and Exciting Date (and even more so in future CN content):

How did Shaw respond to MC’s incessant drive to know him more? He imbibed the words of his mentor:

He was very patient.

He tested her tenacity in running errands as his informant. He tested how well she kept to her promises. He tested how much she cared about the Dragonfly Eye bead he gave her. He tested how much she cared about not making a fool of Isolated on stage.

He also took his sweet time grappling with why he was inexplicably drawn to her, which manifested in the form of the push-pull dynamics mentioned earlier in Point 2. 

Was he simply an observer toying with MC? Was he simply deriving amusement from MC’s reactions?

And after all that testing and waiting, he finally knew for sure:

Shaw not only offered to let MC into his world. 

He also carved out a space in his world for her.

And that’s when the Shaw x MC ship sailed.

#teatime with cheri #THIS TOOK ME SO LONG #I have 5 days to climb out of the Shaw pit hnhgnhgn

[wisehq]

Mission Debrief: Chapter Forty-two

...It's all coming together.

I'm just going to come outright and say it; I had no idea what to write for this review- not because there wasn't anything to discuss, but rather this chapter gave us so much that I didn't know what to focus on first. Chapter forty-two has single-handedly thrown open the doors to a hundred different theories, and believe me when I say that after a whole night of redbull and theorizing I couldn't come up with any clear answers (the folks over at the Strix discord group can attest to that).

So here's what we're gonna do; I'm not going to focus on the chapter itself.

It was cute. Cardshark Anya is hilariously awesome. Damian is a little shit (whom I adore), and the chapters where the kids can just be kids are- in my opinion- the best.

That's all I'm going to say on the matter. For the rest of this review, I want to go over all the facts we know so far about the story and setting. All of the things Endo has been slowly building up in the background and the pieces that we can stitch together from them, starting with this chapter. Two key things stuck out to me.

In the entirety of the story up till this point, this is the first time we have heard mention of a royal anything- and not only that, but this chef is a former royal chef. This of course implies that a) said chef was fired (not likely given that Eden wouldn't likely associate with someone who was disgraced like that) or retired, or b) that there is no royalty anymore. Ostania is a totalitarian state and the main power of the government- from what we've seen- lies with the ruling political party, i.e the National Unity Party, a.k.a Desmond's party. Such a political structure would have no room for royalty in a governing capacity, and therein begs the question; is there still a royal/noble class- albeit in a non-governing sense- or was it abolished sometime in the recent past?

Classical language is not proper speaking and diction like I had originally thought. Classical language is a specific term typically used to describe a dead language or dialect (think Latin, or Hebrew before it was revived). I find this particularly interesting because under no circumstance would a child as young as Anya know anything about a dead language unless- as Loid points out- she was exposed to it as a toddler. It would have had to have been when she was very young, as she herself doesn't realize she knows this information. This would mean she likely learned it from her birth family; Anya was old enough to remember the lab and scientists, meaning she became Subject 007 later on in life- otherwise she would have remembered knowing classical language.

These two concepts are incredibly important to keep in mind, both now and later on as the story progresses. We now know that a royal class plays a factor in the political game that Twilight and everyone else is playing, and we know that Anya knows information that she shouldn't know otherwise (even with her mind-reading powers). So where does that leave us?

Honestly, for the first time...I'm kind of stumped?

Let's look back at the story and see what else we can piece together- maybe there's something in there we can extrapolate for our purposes. Another clue to point us in the direction that Endo is seemingly funneling us towards.

From chapter forty-one

Franklin Perkins was a man who believed in making his country a better place to live. In his eyes and from what he saw, Ostania wasn't going in the right direction- but why? He blames his lack of money for his mother's death, and we see him hold resentment towards the government over socialistic policies. Wealth is something to be shared with others, not hoarded for ones self. That seems to be where Ostania's moral compass is pointing towards, but is that really the case?

From chapter 39

Mr. Green mentions that people have been fleeing to Westalis; from the way he says this it sounds like this is happening currently- not in the past- and people are going so far as to travel through a third country just to get to Westalis. Such a journey isn't without its perils, so anyone attempting to crossover from Ostania would likely be taking a huge risk in doing so. Not only that, but most of what we've seen in the story is Ostanians loathing Westalins...so what would compel people to do this in the first place?

From chapter three As Anya reads the minds of people gathered at a politcal rally near the start of the manga, we see their disgruntled thoughts behind her. There's multiple mentions of losing jobs and not having enough money- some people are even hungry. Most of these people blame Westalis for their troubles, though not the leader of the rally, ironically.

Also from chapter 3

We find out (and often forget) early on that there are multiple political parties in Ostania. Donovan leads the National Unity Party, whereas the political rally we see here is hosted by the Nationalist Party. The latter preaches peace with the west, but many of the people gathered reject this outright. This is important; the N.U.P is the most successful political party in Ostania, which means a majority of the country's citizens approve of their platform. If we're to assume the Nationalist Party's platform is to advocate for peace with Westalis, then we must also assume that the N.U.P stands for the opposite; direct aggression with the west.

From chapter 31 The Zacharis Dossier, though ultimately a bust, hinted at rumors that have permeated East and West since the start of the cold war. We know for a fact that human experiments did indeed take place in Ostania, so it also stands to reason that there is at least a kernel of truth to the claims of P.O.W (prisoner of war) massacres conducted by the west. It's a heinous crime, and also one that leads to another question; why would any country go through with it in the first place? In addition, piggy-backing off the former point;

From chapter 19 While Loid details Project Apple, he uses the word 'regime' to describe the former Ostanian government. The literal definition of a regime is a government, especially an authoritarian one (Oxfrod Dictionary). I won't highlight all the specifics of what is and isn't authoritarianism, but essentially the point I'm trying to make here is that the current Ostanian administration is still very much a regime. Donovan acts as the authoritarian ruler (or would-be ruler; we don't know if he's actively in charge or is looking to usurp power for himself) and continues on the legacy of the former government. We know for a fact that this is the case because Anya is only at most 6 years old, likely even younger. That would mean the experiments being run on her had to have been recent, which fits with the time frame that we established at the beginning of this rabbit hole- it also aligns with what we know about what Donovan has been doing on the back end of things. Those who have kept up with my reviews know what I'm talking about; gloom pharmaceuticals, the truth serum, OSO-R, etc. All of that, which then leads us to...

...right back where we started. So...what then? What can we conclude from all this? At least a few things;

Anya is tied to Desmond- either directly or indirectly.

Anya's past is also Ostania's past; she's familiar with a dead language that's no longer spoken, and there's definitely a reason why no one speaks it anymore.

Ostania is in a period of political and economic turmoil. This also comes on the heels of a (possible) former monarchy, and the struggle of a country willing to embrace authoritarianism so long as it means staying alive.

WISE and Westalis are not innocent in this game of chess with Ostania and the SSS, and more than likely have committed atrocities that may or may not be directly tied to Ostania and- possibly- Anya's past.

And...this is as far as I can go. I've hit a wall, as have other people I've talked to. We're still missing pieces to the puzzle. Endo will of course provide us with more clues and theory fodder as the weeks and months progress, but for now this is as far as I can go on my own. On the one hand I feel defeated because I can't come up with a meaningful explanation for everything and present it in a neat little bundle for you all to read, but on the other hand I'm thoroughly enjoying this. I'm more engaged with this manga and story than any other I've read before; I'm at the edge of my seat every week, and I'm sure most of you are, too. For now, I'll leave the review here. I find it fitting to leave it open ended, just as Endo did with Loid's self-imposed question. Hopefully, like him, we can find answers in the near future.

Also, BONUS...

...No fun panel with a snappy comment this time. Instead, I’m going to humbly ask for your help.

If you have any ideas about where you think the story is going, theories as to how everything fits together, or just really want to discuss the manga with other fans- please check out our forum and share with us. We’d love to hear what you all think; not only that, but a lot more heads makes theorizing both more productive and a whole lot more fun. Check it out if you have the time, or- if you don’t feel like clicking on any links- you can always leave a comment either on this post or send us an ask or message. Anytime, any reason, we’d love to talk SxF.

Again, thanks for reading, and we’ll see you all next chapter!

#spy x family #chapter forty-two

[nerdygaymormon]

uhhhh david have you gotten the liahona yet bc idk how to feel about an article i found in there yesterday. it was pretty comforting and basic, but did use ssa the whole time. BUT the youth one was pretty crappy, it used ssa to the max and gave no real hope, was pretty bland and annoying about oh itll be find just believe and jesus and get hatecrimed <3 i would like to hear your thoughts on it, its the first time ive seen any queer topics in church magazines

Thanks for bringing these to my attention.

"Same-sex attraction" (SSA) is the preferred term of Church leaders. They say it's a way of not making it your identity, that this isn't part of who I am but rather is something I'm dealing with. In other words, people "have" same-sex attraction, not that they "are" gay or lesbian or bi.

There have been a few leaks from behind-the-scenes where the apostles say they use "same-sex attraction" because it's the term that people like least. People like it less that same-gender attraction or gay/lesbian. SSA includes the word "sex" and I guess the idea is it gets people to think of sexual acts and feel queasy.

SSA is the term normally used in Church magazines because they follow the lead of the First Presidency and apostles.

There's 3 items in the Church magazines this month about queer people! That's a lot for one month.

————————————————————

The first is a bishop talking about how to understand and include LGBT people at church. After becoming bishop, 3 sets of parents contacted him distressed that their child is gay or transgender (I note that the parents used "gay." He also mentions contacting someone who 'identifies as gay").

His first recommendation is to follow the living apostles. (which explains why the bishop uses "SSA" even though everyone else around him used "gay"). It's a good idea for a local leader to find what the current leaders are saying because it's changed. He also says to read the Church's websites titled “Same-Sex Attraction” and “Transgender.” He provides two lovely quotes from those pages about diversity at church and being loving to people who are different.

His second recommendation is to not be afraid to talk to people who identify as gay, but instead try to have love for them and then let the Spirit guide you in what to say. We're just people, it shouldn't be scary to talk to us, that shows how different he thinks we are from the other people he interacts with in his ward.

The bishop's third suggestion is to speak to people who are familiar with LGBT "issues," share your testimony, and apologize for hurtful things you say. His list of people to contact for help understanding was a little disheartening because he starts with his stake leaders, ward leaders, other bishops, and so on, actual queer people were the last people on his list.

He continues by saying to pull aside members who are saying homophobic or transphobic things and give them some personal guidance, don't share private information that a member shares with the bishop, and just because someone has these "attractions" doesn't mean they're acting on them, and if they aren't "acting" on them then you can let them have a calling.

I have a few comments about the last few things. If no one corrects the homophobic/transphobic comments in public but instead privately suggests the person do better, every one who heard those comments thinks they stand unchallenged. The atmosphere created by the comments is unchanged. Especially if the bishop was present to hear those words, if they go uncontested then people think this is what is acceptable.

You'd think bishops know not to share private information a member shares with them. I've been around long enough to know that when a bishop is unsure what to do, he starts contacting his network (stake presidency, other bishops) asking for advice. Some bishops are discreet when doing this and others name the individuals.

While it seems basic, I recently had a counselor in a bishopric who didn't think gay people could get a temple recommend, that there's a zero-tolerance policy. That is an attitude that is outdated by a couple of decades, but it shows that people need to learn that simply existing as a gay or trans person doesn't automatically mean we are committing great sins.

I do find it interesting there appears to have been quite a few queer individuals in his ward, at least 4 or 5, and reading between the lines it seems they all stopped attending.

The bishop's heart is in the right place. I get he's following the Church leaders and that limits some of what he can do for queer people in his ward. I think his perspective primarily is of making the parents feel more welcome in the ward and not ostracized for having queer kids.

————————————————————

The second article in the Liahona is written by a person with same-sex attraction and his work to overcome the shame he felt.

It's a much better article than the one written by the bishop. This person shares about the shame they felt at having gay feelings and working with a therapist to overcome that shame. He shares 3 lessons that helped him with this process.

1) God and Jesus love and accept him as he is. This is a message that doesn't often get conveyed to queer members and it's important they know this.

2) The Atonement of Jesus Christ offers healing. At first he was wanting the Atonement to cure him of being gay, but instead it helped him be healed of the shame he felt. I hear so many members who think the Atonement can change us from gay to straight, and that's not true. I'm glad he made this distinction. Our Heavenly Parents don't view being gay or trans as something that needs to be cured. I wish that message was taught more openly in the Church.

3) Build deeper connections and show compassion. Loneliness and feeling like you don't belong at church are two of the most troubling aspects an LGBTQ+ person has to deal with if they are active in the LDS Church. Developing close friendships will help with that. Also, queer people tend to be more compassionate than the average person and I believe it's because of the experiences we had to deal with of living in a heteronormative world that isn't made for us.

He includes a few useful tips at the end on how to engage with queer people.

All in all, a much better story than the one written by the bishop. He shared part of how it feels to be a gay member of this church, the idea that he should be ashamed for who he is, that being gay isn’t a burden, that he doesn't fit in.

I appreciated he said this is part of his layers of identity and at the core of his identity is that we're children of heavenly parents. That's more nuanced than the apostles who reject being gay has anything to do with identity and our only identity should be a child of God.

————————————————————

The final story is from For the Strength of Youth. This piece seems like it's written by a queer person, but it's anonymous and given as general advice to show that people with same-sex attraction belong at church.

This article makes 3 main points. The first is that God loves you. That's true, although accompanying quotes to back up this principle aren't specifically about queer people.

The second point is "you belong." All sorts of people attend church, and God is no respecter of persons. Then they have a quote from Elder L. Whitney Clayton that people with same-sex attraction are welcome to come to church. To me, he's an odd choice to give this message as he led the Church's fight in California on Prop 8 to make gay marriage illegal again. Words aren't enough. Saying I'm welcome is not the same as making a welcoming climate.

The third point is that God will help you. They include a quote from Laura F. who experiences same-sex attraction. She writes about prayer, scripture study, temple and church attendance. However, she also says she doesn't know what her life will look like in 20 years, she seems to be leaving open the possibility her journey with God will lead her to romance and out of the church. I thought that was very honest and important.

————————————————————

I found it noteworthy that nowhere in these 3 articles does it say being alone and celibate is good and what God wants.

I appreciate the idea that we can make our local congregations less homophobic/transphobic. The suggestions from the bishops shows that the bar is pretty low and it doesn't take much to make an improvement from how things are now.

The voices of the two gay members was important, what they shared was useful but nuanced, didn't make commitments to staying in the church long-term or testify that what the church requires is what God wants for them.

Even so, it's clear the publisher is very careful. They use "same-sex attraction" so often, I think readers would be surprised the preferred term of most same-sex attracted people would be gay, bi or lesbian. While they addressed some things, like homophobic/transphobic comments, feeling shame & not fitting in, I think they largely skated past the things that make queer people decide that this church isn't for them.

There's a part of me that says I'm glad we're having this conversation in the Church magazines, but another part that says this is too sanitized and doesn't get at the heart of things. These are very hopeful messages that make it seem that queer people could easily choose to stay in church if a few adjustments were made and if they only understood God loves them, which avoids the "doctrine" that excludes queer people from the highest blessings and joys and makes us essentially second-class citizens in the kingdom of God, at least according to our church.

[cozy-the-overlord]

Funny Little Ups and Downs

Summary: Loki is having a bad day. The love of his life is being sent away to marry some ridiculous Vanir prince, and there’s nothing he can do about it. Then her little sister shows up to give him a pep talk.

Word Count: 3,824

Pairing: Loki x Sigyn

A/N: Sound the alarms! Alert the media! Cozy wrote something happy! I actually wrote the majority of this over three months ago, then got stuck on the ending and forgot all about it until a few days ago. It’s inspired by “I Love Melvin,” a silly little musical from 1953 starring Debbie Reynolds and Donald O’Connor that employs my favorite trope of all time: the main character’s little sibling bonding with the romantic interest. It’s fun, it’s cute, and I just had to write it. Consider it an apology for all the angst I’ve been throwing your way XD

Warnings: None

Tags: @lucywrites02 @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @the-emo-asgardian @imnotrevealingmyname

If you want to be tagged, feel free to send an ask/message :)

Read it on Ao3!

Spring in Asgard was truly something to behold. The last dredges of winter melted into memory, leaving behind a crispness in the air and a radiance in the land as vibrant life bloomed across the planet. It was a kind of brilliance that one could hardly resist, and so it was no surprise that the palace gardens were alive with activity— novice warriors sparring in the field, strolling couples engaged in lively conversation, giggling children chasing each other through the labyrinth of brick and shrubbery.

It seemed the very universe was mocking him.

Loki held his head in his hands, huddled in a despondent heap at the edge of the garden bench. It was truly amazing how quickly the sweet spring air turned foul. The day had started with such promise, and now …

“Hi your Highness!” Loki jumped when the little girl plopped down next to him without a warning, crumbs spilling into her braids as she munched on a cookie.

He sighed. “Oh, hello Milla.” He couldn’t say he particularly cared for company at the moment, but he couldn’t find the energy to shoo her off.

Milla studied him, chewing intently. “Are you crying?” she asked.

“Of course not!” Loki bristled. Was he now so pathetic that he was garnering the pity of a child? He huffed in indignation.

She patted his arm as if in consolation. “It’s okay to cry, Prince Loki. I cry all the time.”

Norns.

He swallowed the temptation to shove her away and abandon the bench, electing instead to change the subject. “Did Sigyn send you?”

It wouldn’t have been the first time she delegated her little sister to the position of messenger. Perhaps Milla was here with some kind of news, that the whole thing was a misunderstanding and Sigyn wasn’t getting married after all. But deep down, Loki knew that was nothing but wishful thinking. If that were the case, Sigyn would have come herself.

“No,” Milla said, dashing what little hope he had against the brick walkway. “I saw you leaving from my window. You looked sad.” She paused, cocking her head to the side. “Was Sigyn mean to you?”

It was such a childish question that Loki laughed, although there was no humor in the sound. Sigyn didn’t have a mean bone in her body. It was something of which he was in perpetual awe. It didn’t matter how badly her day had gone, how grievously she had been wronged—she always had a kind word or a sweet gesture and an eagerness to help. There was a grace about her, a grace that Loki had never seen from anyone else in court.

The way she had broke the news to him, pushing him into the hallway outside her apartment before he even had the chance to knock … it was cruel, but it wasn’t a cruelty she had chosen. He understood that at least.

Loki heaved another sigh. “It wasn’t her fault.”

For a moment, Milla was quiet. He turned away from her. It seemed he really was that pathetic.

“Sigyn got all upset after you left,” she finally said. “She went running upstairs and hid in her room. Now Daddy’s mad because Prince Sverrir is coming over and she’s not ready.” Sverrir. Loki dug his fingernails into his palms. Milla didn’t seem to notice his tension.

“Do you know Prince Sverrir?” she asked.

Loki grit his teeth. “I’ve met him.” It was astonishing how his opinion of the Vanir Crown Prince had changed from aloof indifference to outright hatred within a matter of words. Loki had known Sverrir since they were both children, when Vanaheim’s royal family had come to Asgard for a few weeks to celebrate the millennial anniversary of the end of the Aesir-Vanir War. He had found him to be tiresome as a boy, a trait that did not improve upon adulthood. Loki had avoided him when he could.

Sverrir had only become relevant to him within the last few years, when after one royal visit he began to express an interest in Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir. At this point, Sigyn and Loki had been seeing each other in secret for quite some time, and while a public courtship was still out of the question, Loki had no intention of allowing the foreign prince to pursue what he already called his own.

The court was appalled when it discovered that Sverrir had been hiring harlots and bringing them into his chambers—his guest chambers, the very rooms in which the Asgardian royal family had so kindly allowed him to stay! His insistence that he had never even interacted with the ladies of the night, let alone allowed one on to palace grounds, fell upon deaf ears and Sverrir was forced to return home to avoid further scandal. Loki remembered watching him cross the Bifrost, with his unnatural posture and his idiotic attempt at regality, certain that they’d seen the last of him.

But now here he was again, back with a few years distance and an ailing father, and suddenly every woman in Asgard was ready to fall at his feet. Which would’ve been fine, except for the fact that he decided upon the only woman who didn’t want him in return.

Loki groaned, rubbing his temples. Besides him, Milla prattled on.

“He’s very dull, isn’t he?” she was saying, brushing the cookie crumbs off the front of her dress. “The last time he came over he just sat in the parlor and talked about how much Sigyn would like Vanaheim. I don’t think she was all that interested. And he kept calling me Mina!” She scowled at the ground, as if Sverrir was there, sitting at her feet, before turning back to Loki. “I like you better. You’re nice to me.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Am I?”

“Yeah!” she grinned, tapping his shoulder enthusiastically. “You know my name, at least. And you gave me my good-luck charm!”

She pulled the charm out from under her top, fastened to her neck by thin strip of leather. It was nothing special, just a simple wooden carving of a cat’s head that he had whittled himself during his time serving as diplomat in Alfheim. He didn’t have near the talent for woodworking of the Elven carvers, but he was patient in his practice. By the end of the trip, he had spent hours upon hours working on the carving of a wolf’s head, Sigyn’s favorite animal, to give to her upon his return. Milla’s cat had been something of an afterthought. Still, he hadn’t been able to hide his smile at the way she squealed in delight when he presented it to her, and Sigyn had seemed more touched by the fact that he thought of her sister than at her own gift.

“Has it worked for you?” he asked.

“I think so,” Milla said, running her finger across the cat’s ear. “Good things happen when I wear it.”

Loki laughed bitterly. He could use a bit of that now. “Have good things happened today?”

She didn’t look up. “I’m still waiting to find out.”

A silence fell over the two of them, heavy and stiff. He wondered what Sigyn was doing, if she was still hiding in her room as her sister claimed. She had been waiting for him that morning, ready to push him out into the hall with shaking hands the moment he arrived at her doorstep. He knew immediately that she had been crying—if her swollen eyes weren’t enough of a giveaway, then the little hiccupping gasps that peppered her words certainly were.

“You can’t be here right now,” she had hissed. “If Father sees you, he’ll lose his mind!”

“What happened?”

“Sverrir made an offer for my hand. My father—Loki, he accepted.”

It had taken a moment for those words to sink in. When they had, he had demanded to speak with her father.

“Loki—”

“He can’t do this! He can’t sell you off like cattle—”

Only he could, and they both knew it.

“Prince Loki?” He turned away from his thoughts and back to Milla. She was looking up at him with wide eyes, her voice suddenly very small. “Is Sigyn going to marry Sverrir?”

Loki found he couldn’t answer. There was a threatening lump in the back of his throat, making him unwilling to trust his voice. Sigyn … she was always supposed to marry him. He had been sure of it from the moment he met her, back when they were taking their lessons together. He had pretended to trip when walking by her desk and spilled his potion all over the floor just to have an excuse to talk to her. Thor had rolled his eyes when he heard of it (“could you not just speak to her like a normal person?”), but Sigyn had laughed and offered to help him clean it up, just like the angel she was. And when class ended, he offered to walk her back to her apartment.

Sigyn had smiled, that shy little smile she seemed to reserve for only him. “I’d be honored, my prince.”

Loki was smitten.

And now he was heartbroken.

“You know she doesn’t want to marry him, right?” Milla asked, tugging at his sleeve. “She doesn’t even like him.”

Loki inhaled. “Marriage isn’t just about who you like.” Sigyn had explained this to him just now in the hallway. Her family may have been prestigious in her great-grandfather’s heyday, but a series of poor investments and bad choices had set them on a steady decline. Her marriage to Sverrir would secure their position permanently. Her father would condemn her to a life of loneliness to maintain their status. And Sigyn would accept it, because she was far too good a person to refuse. “You have to think about your future, and your family, and Sverrir is a prince—”

“But you’re a prince too!”

“I don’t have a throne.” Loki sighed. He had never been jealous of Thor’s position as Crown Prince, not really—kingship came with hundreds of little hinderances and headaches that Loki was perfectly content to live without. But if he could stand before Sigyn’s father, not as Odin’s forgotten son but as Asgard’s future ruler … well, he wouldn’t be having to stomach discussion about some Vanir prince, that was for sure.

Milla yanked on his sleeve even harder. “But Sigyn loves you.”                        

Loki’s eyes widened. “She told you that?”

“No.” She said. “But I know she does. She reads your poems every night before she goes to bed.”

He flushed crimson. “Does she?” Oh, those poems. He had never considered himself to be much of a poet, but there was a soft sense of familiarity in words that he had never found anywhere else. And Sigyn … how could one not write about Sigyn?

He never had the courage to read them to her in person, silly, romantic things that they were. Instead he kept to leaving them hidden in spots where only she would find them—wrapped up in her napkin at dinner, buried in her bag at the healing ward, slipped into her dress pocket as they danced. She never said anything about them to him, but he lived for the way she’d squeeze his hand after he passed one to her.

Milla nodded, grinning. “She has them all in a little book, and she keeps it under her pillow.” Loki smiled too at the image, just for a moment, but then reality came crashing back down. She could hold on to as many poems as he could write—it still wouldn’t change anything. He buried his face in his hands once more.

He felt another tug at his sleeve, and he turned to find himself face-to-face with a creased brow. “You love her too, don’t you?” Milla asked. “That’s why you’re so upset.”

Loki huffed. “What I want doesn’t matter.”

“Yes, it does! It has too!” she insisted, shaking his arm. “You can make it matter.”

“Make it matter?” Suddenly, looking at her there, with her braids and her “good luck” charms and her childish hope was too much to bear. “What would you have me do?” he snapped. “Kidnap your sister?”

Milla flinched. “No … But—”

“There isn’t any ‘but.’ Your father will never allow her to settle for me when there’s a superior option. My father will never care enough to intervene on my behalf.” Norns knew he had tried. But Odin had nothing to gain from a marriage between Loki and Sigyn, and if Odin had nothing to gain, he saw no reason to act. “It’s useless to pretend otherwise. Now are you just going to sit here and bother me all day or do you have somewhere else to be?”

She gulped, abandoning her place besides him on the bench. “I’m sorry, your Highness. I’ll go.” Loki watched her slink off back towards the palace, head down like a whipped pup. Somehow, he felt even worse.

…

Dinner was miserable.

Loki picked at his food out of a sense of courtesy, with no real appetite to be found. How could he eat, when four seats to his right Sverrir was regaling his audience with descriptions of his perfect bride-to-be? The prince hadn’t yet mentioned Sigyn by name, but he didn’t have to. Loki could see the way his gaze lingered on her table as he described her “perfect form.”

It made him sick.

He had still barely touched his meal by the time many of the merrymakers had moved to the dance floor. Sverrir had gone, too—Loki watched him practically slither across the room to Sigyn’s side to ask her for a dance, watched Sigyn’s nearly imperceptible nod in assent. Now, they commanded the whole of the floor, gliding through the steps as flawlessly as a couple could, Sverrir grinning ear to ear and Sigyn the epitome of quiet repose.

Loki wished he could return to his rooms. He didn’t want to sit there, watching his heart spin and twirl in the hands of another man. But he couldn’t seem to rip his gaze away from her. Her sea-blue skirt matched Sverrir’s cape as it twisted about her, giving her the appearance of some sort of oceanic goddess. He wanted to hate the color, but of course it was beautiful on her. Everything was beautiful on her.

“Prince Loki!”

He was startled out of his despondent silence by the child shrieking his name. Loki barely had the chance to turn around before Milla was upon him, grabbing at his arm and trying to pull him to his feet.

He frowned. “What are you doing up here?”

“Come on!” She yanked at his cape. “You have to dance with Sigyn.”

Wary of making a scene, and too flustered to push her away, Loki stood. “Milla, I—”

“You have to,” she insisted, giving him a push towards the dance floor. “Go! Dance with her!”

He stumbled forward, but the little girl kept corralling him down the podium stairs, towards Sigyn and her aggravating prince.

“Milla!” he hissed. “Can’t you see she’s already dancing with someone?”

“Who cares?” she hissed back, shoving him again. “Dance with her!”

And so Loki made his way down to the dance floor, cheeks burning, holding himself with as much dignity as one could after a literal child herded them like a sheep away from their meal. Luckily, few in the the ballroom seemed to be paying him any mind.

One of the positives of being the forgotten son, he supposed.

Sverrir and Sigyn were in the middle of the floor, still wrapped up in the music. At least, Sverrir was. Sigyn was holding herself as if someone had strapped a wooden board down her back. He couldn’t remember a time where he had seen her so tense. The sight made Loki stiffen.

With a sudden burst of confidence, he tapped on the Vanir prince’s shoulder. “Excuse me,” he said, not bothering to hide the tightness in his voice. “Would you mind if I cut in?”

Sverrir started. “Oh. Uh—” he glanced back at Sigyn. “Do you mind, darling?”

She shook her head, features still perfectly neutral. Only then did Loki notice that, while she was wearing blue, the ribbons weaved through her braids were emerald green.

“Oh!” Sverrir seemed surprised, but quickly shook it off. “Well, then, of course not!” He stepped aside, making a grand gesture towards Sigyn as Loki took his place in her arms with a rigid nod.

For a moment, they only stared at each other, slowly swaying to the notes of the waltz in silence. Sigyn looked away first, turning to watch her feet on floor as if she were a girl in pigtails still learning to dance.

Loki swallowed the desert on his tongue. “How are you feeling?” he asked.

“Well enough, I suppose,” she murmured. When she looked up again, her eyes were glossy, her features twisted in an attempt to hold back the tears. “Loki—I’m sorry.”

There was a lump in the back of his throat. He wished he could hold her to his chest, cup her cheek and promise her that everything was fine. Instead, he only shook his head. “You don’t have to apologize.”

“I just …” She inhaled. “I wish things were different.”

Don’t we both?

“Is he kind to you at least?” he asked. He would at least be able to rest easier knowing that Sigyn was well cared for, and as irritating as Sverrir was, Loki had never seen anything to suggest that he was cruel. Although … he almost wished Sverrir was a beast of a man—horrible, vicious, barbarous— just so he could have another reason to despise him.

Sigyn shrugged. “He talks a lot.”

“Oh? About what?”

“Absolutely nothing!” she cried. “I’ve never heard of a man who could go on so long without a single thing to say. It makes my head ache.” Sigyn sighed. “But Father finds him interesting.”

Loki scoffed. “Your father would be fascinated by grass growing.”

She laughed. “Probably.”

They danced in silence for a while longer. He liked the silence—the soft, soothing movement was almost enough to make him forget why this night was different from every other he had spent dancing with her. But soon enough, the song came to an end, and he made ready to bid her farewell.

A familiar voice cleared his throat, rasping across the hall. The hum of conversation stopped as everyone turned to face the royal podium, where Prince Sverrir stood, smiling over the masses.

“Ladies and gentleman, if I may have your attention!” he called. “I would like to make an announcement.”

“Here we go,” whispered Sigyn. She reached out to grasp Loki’s hand.

When the crowd thronged around the podium had appeared to reach a size to his liking, Sverrir continued.

“As many of you know,” he said. “My father’s health has been failing for the past several months, and he has voiced that it is his greatest wish to see me married before he passes. Therefore, I am overjoyed to announce my engagement to one of your very own Asgardian ladies—” He stretched his hand out towards Sigyn, grinning widely as the rest of the nobles whipped around to follow his gaze. “The lovely Lady Sigyn Yngvarrdóttir!”

The ballroom erupted into applause. Sigyn sighed, but quickly masked it with a gracious smile, letting go of Loki’s hand in order to make her way to the podium.

To her fiancé.

Loki didn’t even think. When he grabbed her wrist and pulled her back to his side, he was acting off pure instinct.

“That’s impossible!” he cried to the crowd, to Sverrir. “Completely impossible, your Highness. She can’t marry you.”

The applause fizzled out as quickly as it begun. Confused whispers began skating through the onlookers.

“Loki!” Sigyn hissed. “What are you doing?”

Above them all, Sverrir frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand, Prince Loki,” he said. “Lord Yngvarr had given me his permission, and Lady Sigyn has accepted. Why can I not marry her?”

Loki didn’t blink. “Because she’s already married to me.”

The crowd exploded into outraged gasps.

Besides him, a wicked grin was blooming across Sigyn’s face.

Sverrir seemed to have been rendered incapable of response. He stood stuttering on the podium, any words he did manage drowned out by the commotion of the entire court processing what was turning out to be even more of a scandal than the last time the Vanir prince came to visit.

Until finally one voice cut through the chaos.

“Liar!” yelled Yngvarr, pushing his way through the crowd. “My daughter would not betray her family in such a manner.” He turned back to Sverrir, fuming. “Your Highness, I’m afraid Prince Loki seems to be playing a prank, and a decidedly unfunny one at that, at the expense of my daughter’s reputation.”

Loki opened his mouth to protest his offense, but before he could find the words, yet another voice joined the foray of madness.

“It’s not a prank, Daddy!” Milla grinned, materializing seemingly out of thin air to pull at her father’s sleeve. “It’s real! I heard them talking about it a week ago.”

Yngvarr whipped around so quickly that one of his whiskers caught on his shoulder plate. “What?”

“Uh huh,” she nodded. “Prince Loki came through the window! They were talking about how they were going to get married as soon as possible, because they love each other so much and they’re soulmates and … and …” she trailed off, seeming to only just be realizing that every pair of eyes in the ballroom was on her.

“And what?” snapped Yngvarr.

Sigyn stepped forward. “And I’m pregnant!”

The roar was deafening.

She turned back towards Loki with a smirk. He could only gape at her.

“What?” she asked. “Did you think I was going to let you have all the fun?”

Loki didn’t bother trying to find words. He just planted his lips on to hers. “I love you,” he whispered when he pulled away. He had never meant anything more in his life.

She laughed. “What now?”

“Well,” he said, grinning as he offered her his arm. “It seems we have to get married. After that—” he stopped abruptly. There was something in his pocket, something that he knew hadn’t been there before, bulky and solid. Frowning, he pulled it out to find the rough carving of a cat’s head tied to a loop of worn leather.

He looked up again in confusion. His eyes landed on Milla, beaming at him from across the room. She winked.

Good things happen when I wear it.

Loki smiled, slipping the charm back into his pocket. Next to him, Sigyn tugged at his arm.

“After that?” she repeated.

“After that?” he shrugged, smirking. “We improvise.”

#loki marvel #loki fanfic #loki x sigyn #funny little ups and downs #cozy writes

[dangerdangerhighvoltage]

Night Off (MC x Kojuro x Tsunamoto)

MC and Kojuro are trying to navigate their relationship after finally hooking up, only for Tsunamoto to crash the party with his chaotic ass. it's double daddy duty featuring one of supporting cast's finest. nsfw!

You never were one to concentrate on one thing at a time. 

As you scooped porridge into a bowl, you mentally listed all the letters that were awaiting a response from Kojuro. You carefully laid the soft doughy orb of mochi on top of the porridge while noting you needed to track down that retainer to get his report on how the crops were faring this season. As you attempted to remember the name of some Western book Lord Masamune had requested, the boiling water you meant to pour into the teapot had instead landed on your hand. 

“Ahh!” you hissed. Chastised by your own folly, you finally focused on the task at hand, assembling the tray for Kojuro’s afternoon tea break including an extra tea cup for yourself. It had been a few weeks since the incident, and you were relieved that things were starting to feel normal again, if not a little awkward.

The month before last, the clan embarked on a particularly brutal campaign. Upon their return, an abnormally shaken Kojuro promptly made love to you, after a year of working closely late into the night, nursing each others’ hangovers, confiding in each other different ways to help Lord Masamune not be so hard on himself. Kojuro fucked you on his desk on the heaps and heaps of his letters and notes and then again in his bedding, drawing from you something he had left on the battlefield. You were genuinely surprised Kojuro had made good on the attraction between you, but the next day, you could have sworn you overheard Shigezane distributing to a handful of retainers what sounded like payouts for a bet. 

You and Kojuro decided that while you both enjoyed yourselves that night and were clearly well suited, it was not the best time to pursue something real, not with the Ashina acting up as they were. The others teased Kojuro endlessly about making an honest woman out of you, and for some reason, a part of you believed he actually wanted to. But the thing about Kojuro was he would never be forced to make a decision about you so long as he had that endless pile of work on his desk to hide behind. 

It’s not as if you wanted to be an honest woman anyway.

And so it was as though you started your relationship from scratch, relearning boundaries and reacquainting yourself with some professional distance. The only acknowledgment of your intimacy—other than the fact that he ceased referring to you as his “precious girl”—was the fact that you had started to join him for his afternoon tea every day. And that’s exactly what you were looking forward to doing when you walked back into his office, tray in hand, only to find a brawny, effortlessly disheveled, scar-faced sight sitting in your spot.

“Look what the winds blew in,” Kojuro said to you mischievously.

“Lord Tsunamoto!” you exclaimed, shocked to see the handsome man before you. “To what do we owe the pleasure?” 

Whereas Kojuro was seated rather formally at his desk, Tsunamoto sat back outstretched, his chest peeking through his signature, generously loose robe. You’d always been a bit nervous around the man, his lingering eye contact, and general aversion to modesty. You dismissed him as not your type more as a form of self protection, like a chest of gunpowder dodging a spark. Despite being polar opposites, he and Kojuro were thick as thieves when reunited, Kojuro bringing a calm patience out in Tsunamoto, and Tsunamoto reviving a roguish edge in Kojuro. 

“Surprised to see me?” Tsunamoto declared more than asked. Why did everything about him seem flirtatious?

“Did you send a letter?” you asked, knowing he hadn’t. “I’d have planned a feast if I knew you were visiting!” 

“No need for the fanfare. I’m just passing through for a few days.” 

"Too late, I already have a menu in mind,” you said, picking up the teapot. Tsunamoto’s eye locked on the second cup as you poured the tea. Your face heated up as you watched him realize the second cup wasn’t meant for him, that maybe he was interrupting something. You wondered if from just one mundane piece of ceramic, he deduced everything about your and Kojuro’s past. Tsunamoto cocked his head, and directed an inquisitive smile toward Kojuro who was suddenly couldn’t seem to drink his tea fast enough.

"I suppose there’s no point in trying to stop you,” Tsunamoto relented, graciously accepting the cup you offered.

“Believe me, I’ve tried,” Kojuro quipped.

“Uh huh.” Tsunamoto noted. His gaze flickered to you.

“Let me bring you some oshiruko,” you said with a firm smile and a desperate need to catch your breath. 

“No need,” Kojuro waved away. “Bring him his favorite dessert.”

You cocked your head at him in confusion. The two men looked at each other in a way that made your cheek tingle. 

“Sake,” Kojuro said slyly.

The next morning, you arrived at training, where Tsunamoto had stepped in to lead. After sparring one-on-one with every retainer, he finally approached you. 

“Solid form,” he offered as your wooden swords cracked against one another. You had been on the defense the whole time, allowing him to gain ground or at least think he was. Luckily for you, his strength made him slower, and as his body twisted to strike at you, you quickly maneuvered under his swing, striking him in his side in a full low lunge. He let out a laugh as you smiled shyly to yourself. 

“I’ve taught her well, huh?” Kojuro called out from afar, who had apparently stopped by to observe training.

“Technique was always your strength,” Tsunamoto called back to him. 

You resumed sparring, Tsunamoto hitting a bit stronger and moving much faster than before. With every step you took, he met you there, almost predicting your movements. The confidence you gained now sputtered out as you barely dodged his attacks. Running out of ideas, you tried a new gambit Kojuro taught you but as you spun around, you felt yourself caught in a vise-grip, your back to Tsunamoto’s chest as if he was simply waiting for you to fall into his trap. His arms easily restraining yours, he brought his lips to your ear and lowered his voice, looking directly at Kojuro who was watching the two of you intently.

“See, I know a few of Kojuro’s weaknesses as well,” he said, sending a shiver down your spine.  

“Besides, who do you think taught him?” He let you go and jogged back over to the rest of the retainers as if nothing happened. Straightening out your hakama, you looked over at Kojuro who hadn’t taken his eyes off you.

After a full day of cooking and preparing, you tried to make yourself scarce during that night’s feast. You spent the evening running back and forth between the kitchen and main hall, hauling food and empty dishes until someone, you weren’t sure who, grabbed your hand and pulled you down to sit between Kojuro and Tsunamoto. Despite your initial protests, the two of them finally convinced you to stay and enjoy your own handiwork. You relented, and jovially ate, drank, and chatted with the rest of them, until you remembered something.

“Hells, I never spoke to Shiroishi about the crops today,” you confessed with a grimace. 

“Yeah, I'm not sure Shiroishi is in any state to discuss much of anything,” Tsunamoto said. Across the room, the retainer in question was somewhere between laughing drunk and falling asleep drunk.

“What kind of master am I?” Kojuro bemoaned. “My own page sitting here thinking about work when she should be enjoying herself?”

“She learned from the best,” Tsunamoto joked under his breath. 

“Milord,” you started, “You’re a good ma—”

He turned to you, his face serious. “I want you to forget about all your work. Take the night off and just have a good time, okay?” Since you and Kojuro slept together, “good time” had become something of a loaded term. 

“But Milord,” you teased. “Who will keep your desk clear?” 

“I can keep my own desk clear for one night, thank you very much!” 

“You didn’t even clear it when we—” 

You cut yourself off abruptly and bowed your head in embarrassment, suddenly realizing how much you had drank. Tsunamoto let out a satisfied laugh, and you thought Kojuro would strike you down then and there for your slip up. But he merely smirked at you, amused. It’s not like anyone else had heard outside you three—by now all the retainers were completely intoxicated and Lord Masamune had excused himself long ago.

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time, precious girl,” Kojuro fired back with a small, unbearably winning smile. You were at once delighted and flustered by Kojuro’s familiarity and Tsunamoto's presence. You didn’t know what to make of him playing witness to this charged tête-à-tête. 

Sensing the tension, Tsunamoto spoke up. "That’s our Kojuro, always with the last word.” 

“You see what I have to work with every day?” you fussed, turning to him with a big smile.

"You poor thing,” Tsunamoto said, playing along and touching your cheek. You were surprised by the gesture, but played it off well. You happily sipped your sake, oblivious to the glance Kojuro and Tsunamoto shared, an entire unspoken conversation transpiring above your head.

It was late into the night when the last of the retainers drunkenly shuffled off to their quarters for the night, and Kojuro asked you to bring a jug of sake to his office. When you arrived you were astonished to find the two of them seated across Kojuro’s desk boisterously engaged in a heated match of arm wrestling of all things. Only Tsunamoto could convince Kojuro to engage in such nonsensical activities.

“So these are the brilliant, visionary advisors of the Date clan,” you huffed as they cheerfully welcomed you. You sat down at the edge of the desk and looked back and forth between them before pouring the sake. With great effort, Kojuro finally pressed Tsunamoto’s knuckles into the wood. 

“Damn,” Tsunamoto grumbled. They downed the sake and immediately put their elbows back on the table, ready for another bout. You poured more sake and sipped on your own. "Alright, this is the tiebreaker,” Tsunamoto said, flexing his fingers.

“And what is the prize?” you asked. 

“A kiss from the beautiful page,” Tsunamoto cracked. 

“And smart,” you added.

“Right, a kiss from the beautiful and smart page,” Tsunamoto beamed.

Kojuro looked up at you, concerned. “[Y/n], you don’t have to—”

“Okay,” you said simply. Kojuro was dumbfounded.

“What?” 

“I said okay. I will kiss whoever wins this stupid competition,” you said with a shrug. Did those words just come out of your mouth? The two men looked at each other again, and again you felt that tingle in your cheek.

“You heard her, Kojuro,” Tsunamoto said.

“I suppose I did.”

The two readied themselves on Kojuro’s desk, grasped hands and began, but this round was different. For the first time since Lord Tsunamoto arrived, the two men went silent as they strained to defeat the other. 

“Kojuro, finally putting up a fight. Desperate for a kiss, old man?” Tsunamoto jeered.

"Put as much effort into training as you do into talking shit and you’d have unified Japan yourself by now,” Kojuro taunted back.

Unable to fathom the scene playing out in front of you, you simply took another shot of sake. It was a total deadlock for minutes until suddenly with a loud crack, both men were sent to the floor. Apparently Kojuro’s poor desk gave out from the pressure of the match or perhaps it had simply lost the will to live after years of neglect and misuse. The three of you devolved into a fit of laughter as you pieced together what had occurred.

“A draw!” Kojuro howled. 

“We both lost? How pathetic!” Tsunamoto asked, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye and trying not to laugh again, though you sensed he was relieved at the outcome. The two men sat up on either side of the broken desk, looking down in amused pity.

“Or maybe,” you said timidly. “You both won.” 

You couldn’t believe what you had just said. What you had just implied. The two men froze and looked at you, waiting for the catch, for you to burst into laughter and exclaim, “Gotcha!” and tease them endlessly for thinking twice. But you didn’t. 

“[Y/n]?” Kojuro asked softly with a nervous smile. 

With the latest shot of sake taking effect, you leaned over to him and gave him a firm kiss. His body froze before you, and you instantly cursed yourself for being so stupid and so forward. What were you thinking? You expected him to pull back, graciously reiterate the need for professionalism, and dismiss you for the night, but to your surprise, he dug his fingers in your hair and deepened the kiss. His tongue grazed your lips hungrily and bit your lip the same way he did when you first kissed just weeks ago, and you felt the same rush of sensual relief.

The two of you parted with a small, uncertain smile. You took a breath and looked deep into the torrent of Kojuro’s eyes.

“I’m going to kiss him now,” you said. “Is that alright, Milord?”

“Of course,” Kojuro said with a genuine smile. “He earned it just as much as I did.”

Kojuro watched as you leaned over to Tsunamoto. For perhaps the first time ever, Tsunamoto looked thrown off, almost nervous, which exhilarated you. You lips brushed over his. He looked over at Kojuro questioningly, and Kojuro nodded encouragingly. Satisfied with this, Tsunamoto closed his eyes and drew you closer, hungrily lapping at and biting your lips. You expected him to be an aggressive kisser compared to Kojuro, but there was also a sweetness about the way he gently swept his tongue against yours. 

Tsunamoto broke the kiss before you were ready. You hadn’t even noticed that Kojuro had moved the broken table aside and moved closer to you. The two men stood up and pulled you up between them. 

“Are you sure you want this?” Kojuro asked. You looked at the dizzyingly handsome men on either side of you. “Want us?” 

“Yes,” you panted as you kissed Kojuro again, grabbing his collar. You felt Kojuro loosen your obi as Tsunamoto stood behind you and began to kiss your neck, his hands loosening your collar. You reached to grasp at both of their hair as Tsunamoto opened up your kimono, exposing your breasts. 

Kojuro leaned back and took the sight in before leaning down and taking your nipple into his mouth. From behind, Tsunamoto took your other breast into his hand and possessively turned your head to kiss you. 

“Nghgh,” you moaned as both the men worked your breasts. Kojuro finally removed your obi and your body was completely exposed. He licked his fingers and placed them between your legs, where he began stroking you. You were already wet, but you had to admit you missed his touch. Tsunamoto slid the kimono completely off your shoulders, his hands trailed down the sides of your body and he grabbed a handful of your ass. 

“Fuck,” Tsunamoto exhaled. “You have this parading around your office all day?” You caught a glimmer of pride in Kojuro’s eyes as you set to work on Kojuro’s obi, freeing him of his robes. You were pleased to find he was already hard. You grasped him, and looked behind you to find Tsunamoto removing his own robe. 

“Come here,” Tsunamoto said as he lowered himself to the floor and lied down. Kojuro guided you to Tsunamoto’s head and gently pushed you down onto your knees until they flanked Tsunamoto’s ears. You could feel the warmth of Tsunamoto’s breath on your slit. Kojuro stood in front of you, his member in hand. You grabbed it and held it to your lips, teasing his tip with your tongue as Tsunamoto ran his fingers in and out of your folds, spreading them. You finally took Kojuro fully into your mouth just as Tsunamoto pulled you down fully onto his lips and eager tongue. You immediately felt a pulse of pleasure shoot from Tsunamoto’s tongue to your extremities, and you let out a loud moan around Kojuro. 

You started to squirm, but Tsunamoto held you in place like a clamp as he lapped you up. There was clearly no escaping your own pleasure—the only thing you could do, really, was take it out on Kojuro. You furiously swirled your tongue around him. Cursing, Kojuro ran his fingers through your hair and pushed further into your mouth, which in turn, made you grind your hips harder on Tsunamoto’s face, who moaned as he sucked on your clit.

“Ride him,” Kojuro growled and you looked up. “I want to see.” He was wearing the same face he was when he watched you at training earlier that day. Feeling your climax start to build up, you began to ride Tsunamoto’s face harder, thrusting your hips back and forth whimpering, his fingers clenched deep in your hips, his tongue unabating. You started to lose focus and could barely hold onto Kojuro, abandoning his pleasure in search of your own. “You’re so beautiful,” he said, captivated, as you grabbed your own breast and unraveled before him on Tsunamoto’s face with a full-throated sigh. 

You got off Tsunamoto and collapsed as he got on his knees. "God I hope she feels as good as she tastes,” Tsunamoto said, licking the corners of his mouth.

“He would know,” you said boldly staring down Kojuro.

“Find out for yourself,” Kojuro said. The two men looked at you and you nodded.

Tsunamoto pulled you to him. He sat back on his heels and guided you into his lap, wrapping your legs around him as his tip teased your opening before pushing himself in. 

“You feel incredible,” Tsunamoto uttered in amazement. He stretched you out gently.

You surveyed the scar that trailed down Tsunamoto’s brow and onto his regal cheek. Your gaze locked on his other eye and as he began thrusting in earnest, it suddenly became so clear why Tsunamoto carried himself with endless confidence. You watched him roll his hips tantalysingly slow and deep into you, hitting all the right spots.

“How does he feel, precious girl?” Kojuro asked. He was stroking himself at the sight of you. 

“He feels so—uuuunnnh!” Your response was interrupted by a particularly deep plunge Tsunamoto took. 

You looked back at Kojuro and reached for him, but he leaned back just out of reach with a mean grin. “You need to learn to focus on the task at hand,” he said lovingly. He watched as Tsunamoto drove into you harder and faster, his strong arms essentially keeping you floating as he slid in and out of you. Kojuro was completely entranced, savoring the way your eyes glazed over as his oldest friend in the world fucked the woman he loved if only he'd let himself, wondering if the most precious things weren’t meant to be shared. 

Tsunamoto slowed down in an attempt to stave off his own climax. Kojuro kneeled behind you, steadying you as Tsunamoto pulled out of you and you got your bearings.

“Are you alright, precious girl?” You nodded, catching your breath. 

“Good. All fours,” Kojuro directed. You did so, swaying your hips in an attempt to further tempt him. Kojuro sidled up behind you and caressed your back, kissing the dimples on your lower back. Your eyes met Tsunamoto’s as Kojuro positioned his cock between your folds and pressed in. You let out a long, lusty moan that bloomed more for every inch he filled you. He hadn’t taken you from behind before, and you wondered how you’d be able to work alongside him anymore after this.

You lost yourself in Kojuro’s languid thrusts and found yourself again, grinding back against him. He whisked you up on your knees, pressing your back against his chest. 

“Not a day has gone by that I haven’t thought of you,” he professed softly into your ear. “That I haven’t dreamed of feeling you like this again.” He wrapped his arm around your torso to keep you in place as he dove in and out of you. Tsunamoto crawled over to you and bent down, pressing his tongue squarely on your clit.

“Ahhnn!” You cried out as he raked his tongue up and down from your clit to your opening where Kojuro was thrusting into you. 

The sensation was too much too soon, so you grabbed Tsunamoto’s hair, pulled him to your face, and gave him a frantic, sloppy kiss as you took his cock and stroked him. You felt Kojuro lean over your shoulder, and you pulled away.

“She taste as good as she feels?” Kojuro asked as Tsunamoto approached. You watched as the two men took each other by the lips. You joined in, the three of you licking, biting, sucking each other as you pumped Tsunamoto to Kojuro’s rhythm.

Tsunamoto stood up in a frenzy and placed his cock on your lips. You knew he was close, and you took him into your mouth. “You are taking us so well,” Tsunamoto said as you devoured him. As Kojuro devoured you. You whined as you felt the electricity build up in your core. 

“Don’t stop,” you pleaded. “I’m so close!” 

Kojuro managed to fuck you even faster and harder. He brought his hand between your legs, his fingers fluttering on your clit as Tsunamoto all but fucked your mouth. Kojuro groaned as you screamed in pleasure around Tsunamoto’s cock. 

“I’m coming,” Tsunamoto rasped as he ejected into your mouth. You did your best to take it all as you reached your own climax. You felt feverish, heat tearing through your body and cracking you open. 

“Come for me my precious girl,” Kojuro snarled in your ear. 

You let out a cry as the pleasure rushed through you, leaving you trembling. You tightened unbearably around Kojuro’s cock, and he finally released into you with a curse.

The three of you collapsed on the floor, sprawled in a heap of pleasure and exhaustion and a giggle or two. 

“If only every trip to Oshu was this fun,” Tsunamoto simpered. You sighed a chuckle in response.

Kojuro reached up for his kiseru. You caressed his back, muscular by training, worn by war. “You know, [y/n],” he panted. “You should take the night off more often.”

You and Tsunamoto shared a knowing look, both helplessly endeared by the precious, precious man. 

#slbp sasuke #slbp smut #slbp kojuro #slbp tsunamoto #katakura kojuro #oniniwa tsunamoto #tsunamoto

[songbirdsingingthings]

Chapter Nine - A New Friend

DISCLAIMER: I do not own any of these characters, they belong to Kohei Horikoshi

Previous Chapter ~ Next Chapter ~ Series Masterlist ~ Main Masterlist

Word Count: 1.5K

A/N: YIKES I haven’t updated in a while....... welp here’s the new chapter :D

The house was much quieter without Izuku around. With your father still on the mend and confined to his room and Izuku now living with his wife, you were left to your own devices. And you didn’t know what to do. You dabbled in painting, but the watery lines and strokes you painted left you feeling disappointed in your work. You tried to needlepoint a lilac design to go on a pillow as a gift for Lord Bakugou, but one too many pricks in your index finger caused you to stop. So, you were left with a sore arm, a pricked finger, and nothing to do.

“Y/N!” Mei’s shout did nothing to rouse you from the little couch you were perched on, staring out towards the garden. “Y/N?” Mei placed a light hand on your shoulder and shook you once, then twice, then three times before your eyes met hers.

“Yes, Mei, what is it.” You said with a dejected sigh. Your head maid frowned and smoothed out the chiffon material that looked as if it was fluttering off your shoulder.

“Why don’t we go out today? I’ve heard that little boutique in town, the one you adore, has received a new shipment of dresses and accessories. We do need to start building a much larger closet since the winter balls are coming up. Perhaps we could peruse the newest additions for some yellow?” A hint of a smile quivers over your lips.

“Perhaps we shall,” you decide, making haste to grab your little purse, along with your gloves and furred shawl. The Autumn winds had recently decided to descend upon Musutafu, and you intended to escape the chilly seasons of both Autumn and Winter scot-free of a cold or flu. “I’m going to speak to Father quickly before our departure. Could you ready the carriage?” With a quick nod and a dash, Mei was off towards the front of the house while you ascended the stairs and stopped in front of your father’s door. It only took two light raps on the wood for your father to beckon you inside. You find him sitting up, this morning’s newsletter in one hand and a cup of tea in the other. A wash of relief brushes over you as you see that his cheeks have become fuller and his eyes have brightened.

“Hello my dear, are you going out?” He asks, setting the newsletter gently to the side so he can pat the empty space on the bed, inviting you to sit down. You oblige and nod.

“Yes, Mei and I both decided that it would be in my best interest to purchase some new dresses for the winter balls… and for me to get out of this house for a bit.” Your Father smiles knowingly and holds your hand lightly.

“It is difficult, not hearing Izuku’s muttering all day, hmm? I remember it would be an incessant bother to you when you were younger. What was it you would say? Ah, yes. ‘Izuku, there is no need to force your thoughts aloud. I’m younger than you and I contain them just fine within my own head.’” Your father chuckles, earning a sad smile from you.

“I never thought that I would miss it much. Now I feel that there is a void within this house.” Just as you finished speaking, a realization struck you. Izuku was off and married, living in one of the many houses owned by your family. When it comes time for you to be married… that would leave your father all alone.

“Tell me what troubles you.” Your father gives you a kind smile, but it doesn’t do much to soothe your worries. “Your mother always held the same expression when she was perplexed on some matter.”

“It’s nothing, Father.” You say, more trying to reassure yourself than him. “I was merely… thinking about my current status.” You couldn’t open a window into your father’s mind, but if you were able to, you would’ve known that he knew the issue you explained was not the one troubling you the most. But, he played along.

“Oh, I don’t think you need to trouble your mind and heart too much over that thought Dear. I wouldn’t be surprised if within the next couple of months we will be planning another wedding.” Even though Shouto had already told you about his intentions, your eyes still widened at your father’s words.

“Has he met with you in regards to an engagement?” You ask quickly, a frantic tone laced with your words. Your father chuckles and closes his eyes, leaning back against the pillows propping him up.

“Now Y/N, that would ruin the surprise, would it not? You should probably run along now downstairs, I’m sure Mei is patiently waiting for your company. With a smile of disbelief, you shake your head and squeeze your father’s hand in lieu of a hug.

“Alright. I’ll be back before supper.” You say, letting the skirt of your chiffon dress swish as you hurry downstairs.

“This one is too poofy. That one, not enough. My word, look at the colors on that one? What on earth were those seamstresses thinking?” Says Mei, thinking aloud. The both of you, donned in your winter petticoats and shawls, peruse through Henrietta’s, your favorite boutique. They always seemed to have the dresses and accessories that fit you best, both to flatter your physical features and to speak to your soul. You thought all of them were quite nice. Mei, on the other hand, had a harsh opinion on which ones needed to be purchased. You remove your gloves to let your hand trail over the material of a couple dresses, the different materials creating an interesting sensation on your fingertips. From lace, to tulle, to silk and chiffon, they all seemed quite appealing to you. Especially one in a baby blue, looking light and airy yet perfect for the icy winter months to come.

“Mei, what do you think of this one?” You say, your eyes still glued to the dress as you trail your fingers along the soft silk.

“That one’s too… actually it’s quite nice.” Mei says, taking a step forward to get a closer look.

“Nice? I believe the word you’re looking for is beautiful!” Both you and Mei spin around to find the speaker, only for your breath to be sucked tightly back in. In front of you, with the kindest smile you think you’ve ever seen on a person, stands Lady Todoroki, Shouto’s elder sister. In your brain, you try to configure several conversation starters or comments, but you just kept coming up empty, leaving you speechless and a bit embarrassed. Lady Todoroki, though, with the grace that seemed to flow through her naturally, continued for you. “And on you, my days Lady Yagi, you would just take every thought and word and snatch them right out of my younger brother’s mind and mouth!” She says with a giggle, earning a shy smile from you. “I’m sorry the last time we spoke you were privy to… an unfortunate, but common, occurance in our household.” With a sheepish smile, Lady Todoroki’s gaze flits across the room. Your mind is brought back to that day inside the Todoroki estate and all of the painful, heartbreaking things that followed. You shake your head a bit to try and chase away those thoughts, and instead offer Lady Todoroki a smile.

“Well, what’s in the past is in the past. What brings you here today?” You ask sweetly, earning a grin from Lady Todoroki.

“Henrietta’s is only my favorite boutique! I’ve heard a little rumour that they got a new arrival - from France!” A gasp is heard from beside you.

“France?!” Mei squeals, earning giggles from both you and Lady Todoroki.

“Mei, could you perhaps ask the shopkeeper if we could potentially be privy to those new arrivals?” With an eager nod and a faux salute, Mei scurries away leaving you and the man who was courting you’s sister. “So, Lady Todoroki-”

“Please do call me Fuyumi. My brother talks about you so constantly, I feel as if we’ve been close friends all this time!” You laugh and nod.

“Then call me Y/N.” You see Fuyumi nod.

“Are you here shopping for the winter balls coming up? I can’t believe they are being held so soon!” 

“Indeed,” you say, letting your fingers run over more fabric. “Mei insists that my wardrobe be better than it has ever been. It either has to do with her pride in me or just an excuse to grab the latest fashions.”

“Or it has something to do with Shouto.” Fuyumi says, making your expression flush. “But believe me, you could be dressed in any color or dress style, and he would be at your beck and call.” 

Fuyumi, you discovered, was a friend like you’ve had before. With quick wit and intelligence paired with a kind demeanor and heart, the two of you got along fast and wonderfully. So wonderfully, in fact, that she invited you - along with Mei, who had boxes upon boxes of dresses and accessories, all newly bought, with her - to her estate. You had nothing but happy thoughts about the activity. The thought of having tea in what you assume to be the most exquisite parlors to have ever been built sounded like a fantastic way to spend an afternoon. The servants you saw during your last visit were kind and helpful, taking the boxes from you and Mei and putting them in a holding place while you and Fuyumi made your way towards the parlor. You had a smile on your face and a pep in your step. Oh, how quickly they can fall into a stationary stance and a petrified expression once your eyes meet the ones of the tall Duke of Endeavor. And oh, how fast the feeling of sudden dread and fear creeps into your soul as the man stares you down, no emotion but animosity behind his eyes. I guess tea is out of the question now.

#Shoto #Shouto #todoroki shouto #shouto todoroki #shoto todoroki #shouto x reader #mha shouto x reader #shouto x you #shouto x y/n #shouto x #todoroki shoto x reader #shoto x reader #shoto x y/n #shoto x you #shoto todoroki x reader #bnha shoto #shoto x #todoroki x reader #todoroki #todoroki x reader fluff #shouto todoroki x reader #shoto todoroki x you #shouto fanfic #shouto fic #shouto fanfiction #shouto fluff #shoto fanfiction #shoto fanfic #shoto fic #shoto fluff

[aewhore]

Rhea Ripley x fem!reader.Where the reader is Shane’s adopted daughter.So the reader and Rhea are secretly engaged and Vince decides to put the reader in a storyline with Adam Cole.Of course the reader doesn’t like it, and after a few months it’s getting closer to the wedding and Vince decides to start setting up for an arranged marriage,which causes Rhea to confess to their engagement.And reader ends up setting Vince and the McMahons (Not Stephanie) straight with some colorful words.

Hello, my love @mrsbaszler I’m so sorry this took so damn long to write, Thank you so very much for being so patient with me so I hope you love this as much as I do!!!  

Word count: 2500 

WARNINGS: slight hints towards NSFW activity in beginning. Hinted at homophobia. 

  Fighting for my family ~ Rhea Ripley x fem! reader.  

The morning sun beamed in through the window and straight into your face. You rolled over into the chest of your fiancée, Rhea Ripley. Her arms tighten around you, tangling your arms with hers. “Good morning sunshine” Her morning voice was deeper and raspier than her normal voice. You groan as you bury your face deeper into her chest trying to avoid the reality that you will have to leave the safe haven that is your hotel room bed. Rhea laughs at your attempt to hide away from your responsibilities. She starts to move to leave the bed much to your protests. “Come on sleeping beauty, I have to go shower and I think we both know you’d like to join me” Rhea leaves the bed and walks into the bathroom leaving the door open behind her. “Damn it! Your good” You had no choice but to leave your fort of comfort to join your fiancée in the bathroom before you have to leave.  

Coming out of the bathroom after showering and drying your hair, you and Rhea jump slightly when your phone blasts out your ringtone. You rush over to check it and see it's your dad. You look back to see Rhea staring back at you with a raised eyebrow at the identification of the caller. ‘Dad’ you mouth before picking up. “Hey Pops” You try to sound as cheery as possible but you already know what he’s calling about. “Y/N! Where are you? Do you know what time it is?” You check your phone and see it’s 9:30, You’re half an hour late for the morning meeting at the WWE headquarters. “Ugh shit, I must have overslept, I’m on my way now.” You’re lying through your teeth but your dad seems happy enough with your excuse as he ends the calls after a quick “Get your butt her ASAP” after hanging up you realize you’re still naked and rush around to find your clothes to get dressed. “Overslept huh?” Rhea says interrupting your hunt for your pants. “Rhea” you warn, knowing what she’s going to say next. “I know I know, you can’t tell your family because they’d never accept it but Jesus Y/N, we’re engaged. We’re getting married like to each other in less than a year and-” You interrupt Rhea as your frustrations get the better of you. “Rhea! I love you and I love your family but you don’t understand my family wouldn’t accept us. Being Shane McMahon’s daughter means I have to fit a certain mould. If they found out about us… I don't know what they’d do.” You break eye contact with Rhea to locate your shirt after zipping up your jeans. “You told Steph and she was fine with it. All I’m saying is I’m tired of being your little secret.” You freeze at Rhea’s cold words. “Rhea-” You know you don’t have a good defence to her claims but still she interrupts you. “Don’t. Just don’t. I’ll see you later at the P.C.” and with that she turned on her heels and reentered the bathroom, leaving you in stunned defeated silence.  

You arrive at headquarters a half an hour later with a guilty pit in your stomach. Rhea’s words ringing in your head as you sit in the meeting room, hearing your family bicker around you about the product and the plans of this and that and the other. You worked on NXT with Uncle Paul and William Regal, that's how you met Rhea in the first place. Onscreen you were a commentator with Vic Joseph and Wade Barrett, you were damn good as well. You had been commentating for the last 5 years and you loved every minute of it. “Y/N!” You’re snapped out of your thoughts to the realization that the entire board meeting is staring at you. You straight up in your seat “pardon?” You try your best to at least sound polite despite the fact you hadn’t heard a damn thing that was said. Your Grandfather stared daggers into you as he began to speak again. “Well, had you been listening you would have heard that we are setting a storyline between yourself and adam cole into motion as soon as possible” Your face scrunches in confusion as you speak up. “Wait what? Why?” your voice comes out more frantic and high pitched than you had hoped. Triple H turned in his chair to address you “Well we want to put Adam in a program against Johnny again but Adam needs someone to balance out against Candice” Like Beetlejuice or the devil himself, there's a knock on the meeting room door, Vince breaks into a grin as he welcomes the interruption in and in walks Adam Cole with his infamous smirk already pasted onto his face. 

“Adam! So glad you could join us” Triple H warmly welcomes the UE leader as he sits as close as possible to you in the seat next to you. Why him? Of all people, it just had to be him. When you started your job as a commentator he made it his business to berate your work on Twitter until he came to NXT where he could belittle you in person. You can already tell this will be a horrible time for you. “I’m so glad to be here Paul, Vince thank you so much for this opportunity and Y/N, you actually look really good today, good job” Adam’s voice rang through your head as he made it his mission to get under your skin as soon as possible. Thankfully Vince intervenes in Adam's mission but that tankful feeling is short-lived “Well Adam we’re thankful you suggested this story and we truly feel that Y/N is a perfect fit.” You turn in shock back towards Adam only to come face to face with that sly smirk that you wished you could scrape off his face with your boot. “Wait, how can I have a storyline against Candice if I’ve never wrestled before?” You took a leap of faith, hoping that someone would see how insane this was and put an end to it but alas no luck. “Oh don't worry sweetheart you won’t be getting your pretty little hands dirty in an actual match or anything but if we need you for a brawl or something I’m sure I could teach you a thing or two.” Adam punctuates his sentence with a wink, he leaned in closer to whisper “or maybe you could ask your little friend Rhea for help, I’m sure she’d be more than happy to help ya out”  

The blood rushed away from your head. You felt like you had been sucker-punched, how dare he? Did he know? No surely not. How could he possibly know! Your father, Grandfather and Uncle had carried on the conversation so they had missed Adam’s potential bombshell but they brought the two of you back into the conversation when Shane said: “So what do you think Y/N?” You felt all eyes in the boardroom on you as the pit in your stomach grew and grew and you had hoped it would swallow you whole. “Sure, I’ll give it a shot for a week.” the second you agree the entire room erupts as scripting the rest of NXT begins. Once the meeting is dismissed you rush back to your car to call Rhea but you’re interrupted by your father as you near the exit. “Jeez, someone’s in a hurry, where’s the fire?” Shane laughs out as he stands between you and the exit. “Oh sorry dad, just wanted to go back to the hotel because I forgot my laptop” Your eyes were darting around to avoid your father’s gaze. “Is it important sweetie because I need you to run a few errands for me” your eyes snap to your father. You know you’ll look suspicious if you turn down your father but you need to talk to Rhea ASAP. “Will it take long?” you begrudgingly grumble. 

That's what put you in this situation now. You were running around the performance centre helping out with the writing and distribution of the scripts for the NXT tapings tonight. The hours before NXT were ticking away and your anxiety about your new “storyline” was only building and building. Before you knew it, it was showtime and you were rushing out to the commentary desk, nearly shaking with nerves. You almost physically facepalmed when you remembered that you haven't spoken to Rhea and your storyline was starting tonight. Your stomach sank as the show began, you had to put on your game face but inside you were dreading tonight's events. The show ticked by and you calmed as the storyline slipped to the back of your mind as you focused on the action happening in front of you. Before you could even truly settle in to enjoy the episode of NXT that you were commentating on, the main event came and the air was knocked out of your lungs when you realized what you had to do in less than 15 minutes.  

The main event of the show was going to build towards the men's war game, Pat Mcafee would approach the commentary desk and cut a promo on Vic and Wade, then he will turn his attention to you and start to insult you before Adam run down to be your knight in sweaty armour to save you from the big bad football man thus starting an on-screen relationship between you and Adam. The segment was going so far so good, Pat was doing his job and Adam came to your defence exactly on time. Just as you're about to sit back down at your desk Adam suddenly grabs your hand and kisses your knuckles before he struts back up the ramp to close out the show with Undisputed Era standing tall. If you didn't have to act like a blushing little schoolgirl then you might have thrown up at Cole’s horrible attempt at romance. The show finished and you gathered your things from the commentary desk to return backstage. You politely say good night to your coworkers as you pass by them on your way out to your car to return to your car. The drive back to the hotel was quicker than you expected. The exhaustion of a long filming day was settling into your bones as you entered the hotel and made your way up to your room.

 The loud beep of the key card being accepted rang through your ears as you pushed through the door. The door clicked behind you as you dropped your bags and coat on the floor with an unenthusiastic thud. You see Rhea is already on the sofa in the room and once your eyes fall on your fiancee, you quickly move towards her to fall into her arms. “So you and Cole huh?” it feels like your heart stops beating, shit… you never warned Rhea about your new storyline. “Baby, I’m sorry I-” you start to apologize but Rhea cuts you off “Don’t baby me Y/N, What the fuck was that? You can’t tell your family about your fiancee but you can give fuck me eyes to Adam cole on national TV?? I can’t believe you sometimes” you hang your head in shame as the severity of the situation settled in. “Rhea, I’m sorry. I meant to tell you beforehand but I didn't have a moment to myself at all today” You start to explain yourself but Rhea rolls her eyes at your excuse. “Enough Y/N… enough, I’m done with being your dirty little secret. I love you more than anything but I can't stand it as you allow your family to play pretend with you.” Rhea was standing now as you both stood eye to eye, you were only 3 feet apart but it felt like an ocean between you both. Your eyes brimming with tears as Rhea starts to walk past you. “Rhea, please.” She doesn’t stop and once you hear the door open and close behind, you break out in sobs. The future of your engagement lies in your ability to come clean to your family. 

The phrase hell hath no fury as a woman scorned never rang truer than you making your way into WWE HQ to meet with your family to reclaim your destiny. You realize you’ll have to get your father alone to tell him about your relationship with Rhea first before hopefully, you both go to your grandfather to scrap the Adam Cole storyline. So as you sit down to the morning meeting, you already feel yourself zoning out as you work out what you’ll say to your father later on. The meeting goes by faster than expected but sadly the meeting deviates towards the future of yours and Cole’s storyline. “You want to book a WHAT?!” your shock overtakes your body as you nearly yell at your grandfather. “Well Y/N. As you should have guessed by now the end goal of this storyline will be a wedding angle between the two of you, I think the fans will love it. it was trending last night.” Vine had his selling hat on but you weren't having it. You were ready to put your foot down and finally stand up to your family before the doors to the meeting room burst open. 

Rhea stood at the entrance of the room, a shocked silence fell over the meeting room. “Rhea, how can we help you?” Triple H breaks the silence. “Oh, you could help me out her trips, How bout you give me my fiancee back?” Your heart skipped a beat as your knight in shining armour came to rescue you. “Excuse me?” Vince's confusion echoes through the room as your breath catches in your throat as you stand from your seat. All eyes in the room dart to you as you finally catch the courage to speak. “It’s me, I’m her fiancee, I have been for months and they’ve been the happiest months of my life.” you and Rhea lock eyes and smile at each other. “Excuse me? I can't believe you Y/N, how could you not have told us this?” Your father stared up at you with a shocked expression on his face. “Jesus Christ Dad, how would I tell you? You never listen to me anyway. At every meeting, I’ve ever been at you’ve all ignored my input. Then you forced me into a dumb storyline with that idiot Cole and then you wanted me to marry HIM? I’m gay dad and I love her and I refuse to be ashamed of my love anymore” 

After your rant, you move towards Rhea to hold her hand and lead her out of the meeting room. “Let’s get out of her babe” you put on your best cool girl face as you lead your gorgeous fiancee away from HQ. Rhea suddenly stops your stride and you snap back towards her, “You wanna do something crazy?” you furrow your brows at your fiancee’s question. “Go on?” she’s piqued your interest now so you java to know. “Let’s just go to Vegas and get married now” The request takes you by surprise but the answer leaves you as if it's been sitting in your brain for years. “Yes, let’s go right now” You both break into giggles as you run towards your (hopefully long and happy) life together!

#Rhea Ripley #rhea ripley imagine #rhea ripley fanfic #rhea ripley fancfiction #WWE NXT #nxt imagine #nxt fanfiction #WWE #wwe fanfiction #wwe imagine #im v proud of this #love me?

[itburnedlikesummer]

Obligatory Birthday Post/Looking Back and Forward

My birthday gift to myself as I enter my 31st year of life is to not let myself feel like a second choice anymore. I should not feel the need to apologize for the fact that I’ve been so busy because I work 45+ hours a week, and I should not allow myself to wallow in the feelings that people are simply humoring me instead of genuinely enjoying my presence. 

This last year has been a ride. The amount of things that have happened/changed is intense, but overall (like 95%) has been positive and I will forever be grateful that Travis pulled me out of Maine and convinced me to move to Philadelphia. 

When I woke up on my birthday last year, we had our approval letter for this apartment -- the same apartment that we are leaving at the end of June to move into a smaller, more affordable, one bedroom. This place has become home, and daily I am amazed by the dazzling sunsets and the beauty of the neighborhood we’ve found ourselves in. I love being able to walk to work, even if it takes me nearly 20 minutes to walk just down the hill, versus 20 minutes got me damn near across town in Biddeford lol

Travis and I are officially five years strong, and while I know there’s no engagement on the horizon (he never wants to get married, and I’m okay with that), we have discussed what we want in a future condo and started looking at what some in the area are going for. It’ll be another 3-4 years until we can afford to do so, as I work to pay off my massive dental bill, but it is a future goal and one I’m looking forward to us doing together.

I was always worried about working at a daycare because I’d heard a lot of the ones in Maine were clique-y and while I had the schooling and the personality that make for a decent teacher, co-workers aren’t always the best in places. I lucked the heck out with my current place of employment -- aside from a few youngin’s (18-21) that have no real desire to do anything except play on their phones we have a good staff and my Director is accommodating and very nice. And our Secretary is absolutely amazing and always willing to let me vent about rough days and surprised me yesterday with a slice of cake and a new hair clip (because I wear my hair up every day).

My kids, while absolutely insane most days (as any class of 2 year olds would be) are the highlights of my days. To the point that I am even babysitting one of them today lol

Looking forward, I’m excited about seeing my dad on Thursday. I’m excited but anxious about moving all of our stuff from our 2 bed, 2 bath into a 1 bed, 1 bath (Jared is taking his stuff home, obvi, so it should be doable). And I’m looking forward to continuing at my job and maybe getting to an Eagles game later this year and definitely to some more Union games with Travis. Even if I’m still not big into sports, the look on his face and the enjoyment he gets from it is enough for me to enjoy it too. x3 Maybe we’ll even get to an attraction or two in the city, that would be really nice.

The biggest point is the promise to myself: I will not let myself spend time sitting there and wondering why I’m not good enough, or why people who used to actively reach out when I went into a depressive state seem to no longer care. I am taking care of myself, and my family, and hopefully finding a little bit of time to write with someone somewhere in all that. But I’m not letting myself stay somewhere I’m not wanted anymore. I’m too old for that shit.

Here’s to 31, hoping it’s (somehow) even better than 30 was x3

#personal #person: J #;ecrivain #person: ecrivain #;birthdaypost #way too much information #read at your own risk #person: the writers