#the school want us to do this survey about what we think is good about it....and personal barley anything this school can get so much bette

[crossdreamers]

The majority of Americans want protection for transgender people, new poll shows

The current onslaught on transgender people in the US is extreme and destructive, and it is easy to get the impression that most Americans have become rabid transphobes. That is in no way the case.

On April 26 Fox News published a poll that showed that for the most part the majority of Americans do not support the Republican "culture war."

When asked about  the most important issue facing the country today, only 1% answered "Wokeness/Transgender issues".  

The fact that the survey saw wokeness and transgender issues as one and the same thing, says a lot about Fox, but the answer says even more about Americans.  Transgender people are not seen as a threat.

So what did Americans see as important? "Economy/Jobs" (24%),  obviously, followed by "Inflation/Cost of living" (16%) and "Gun control/Gun violence" (12%).

Targeting families with trans kids is seen as a major problem by Americans

60% of the respondents say that school boards banning books is a major problem. There is no call for censorship of LGBTQA books in schools.

57% say that "Families with transgender children being targets of political attacks" is a major problem. The number for Democrats is 69%, Republicans 43%. Let that sink in for a moment: 43% of Republican voters think the transphobia has gone to far.

Mixed views of trans people

This does not mean that a majority of Americans go all in on the transgender side. We have seen this in other polls too. Americans tend to believe that trans people have the right to live their lives in peace and without harassment, but they are skeptical, for instance,  of transgender women's competing in women's sports (57%).

However, if we look at this from a glass half full perspective, this means that the Republicans have not managed to turn the argument against trans athletes into a broader support for full fledge anti-trans hate, which is good.

The fact that 48% say that "Overly accommodating transgender policies" is "a major problem" can be seen as serious challenge for trans people. It is.  On the other hand, 50% see this  as a minor problem or not a problem at all, which tells us – again– that a majority of Americans are not buying the Republican driven moral panic.

Conclusion

This merits repeating: A majority of Americans support trans people's right to live their lives as they see fit. A great majority of Americans do not buy the Republican war against "wokeness".

This is a shortened version of an article originally published over at Crossdreamers.

See also: Americans’ Complex Views on Gender Identity and Transgender Issues

Photo: Дмитрий Ларичев

#trans #transgender #lgbt #lgbtqa #transphobia #woke #republican party #politics

[lovingksuki]

✰ SECRET ADMIRER pt.2

— highschoolers bakugo x fem!reader

synopsis: an anonymous love letter appears in your locker on valentine's day. surprised, you and your best friend start an investigation to uncover who was that person observing you from afar. meanwhile, a flushed bakugo tries to ruin your plans on the undercover alongside his shitty-haired buddy

cw: sfw; mostly fluff; lil angst; very insecure bakugo; romantic comedy; puberty; silly jokes; little swearing.

an: guyyyyss it's hereeee. i hope you enjoy since i had many people asking for me to continue with this. i hope it is as good as the first part that btw you can read here

wc: 1,3k

the two went on a mission walking around the school and very non-suspiciously investigating whose hand that might be.

"i'm telling you! there's sato, iida and..." counted.

"are they even suspects!?" you mocked. "we have to be coherent about it. i don't even have a major relationship with them..."

"how could you possibly know what goes on inside other's head? i think you're being biased about it."

"what do you mean?"

"i know you want it to be one of the hottest in our class!" smiled diabolically.

"i have no idea what you're talking about." you sweated.

"maybe we should call that double colored guy and just ask a few questions..."

"no way... what are you insinuating?" you almost screamed truly shocked.

"that you have a slight cru-"

"I don't have a crush."

"admit it already."

"I'm not admitting anything. quit pestering."

"you're no fun at all. so... are we talking to Todoroki any soon?"

"no."

"psst, isn't that sero coming this way?" mina whispered looking ahead of the corridor.

the duo telepathically agreed to their next move and mina quickly went in action.

"hey, if isn't our fave tape boy! can I have a high-five?" the pink cheered lifting her hand.

the jet-black haired guy smiled playfully slapping hands with her. watching everything, you caught that glimpse of time needed to take conclusions on the survey.

"what are you two up to? feeling extra energetic today..." sero stated.

absorbed in your own thoughts, you simply couldn't answer any of the questions made, so pinky said in advance: "we're just too excited for the... the-"

"for what?"

"the new movie...! yeah! that one with the clowns. everyone is so hyped to watch it!" mina came up with some excuse.

"oh, so you like 'bloody nightmare' series too? man, me and denki are gathering people to go watch with us." he cheered.

you and mina eyed each other nervously while sero kept rambling about horror films. pinky swiftly poked your side sending the 'make him shut up' signal and you quickly catch the message saying:

"y-yeah! it would be super cool, but we need to... to... go to the 1b room! to dis- discuss the next match-"

"we're discussing the teams for the next training match!" mina rapidly came with an excuse ready to push you up the corridor. "see ya!"

"but guys... their class is towards the other side." sero warned confusedly.

"r-right! it's been months, but we still get lost... hehe!" mina sweated. she spotted a purple voluminous hair meters away. "shinso! wait up!"

and you runned away. sero chuckled observing the girls as another duo approached.

"'sup pal?" kirishima greeted. "it's a important matter so, could you share what are the girls planning? we have business with them."

"it's no use, we're gonna lose sight of them." said the blonde ready to walk away, but his buddy was fast to grab his shirt stopping his tracks.

"be reasonable, it's creepy to chase them around the school." eijiro whispered.

"what are you two up to?" sero crossed arms curious about the situation.

"nothing particularly important. girly borrowed something from bakugo." his heart he thought slightly laughing. "did them say anything about where they're heading?" asked.

"mina said they have something to do with class 1b, and i think they left with shinso." sero explained.

"not that eraserhead wannabe..." katsuki gritted teeth.

"well, no time to lose then! thanks dude." kirishima dragged his best friend away.

when the two males finally found the duo they were shocked to see you holding shinso's hand while walking

kirishima panicked turning to the blonde who watched that scene petrified. it was the second time eijiro saw that expression on his face, the first was when they watched all might last fight. that expression that indicates he started malfunctioning, his thoughts are running wild, and he is about to break.

when he finally inhaled, kirishima's heart skipped a beat thinking bakugo would explode at any moment. he prepared himself to restrain his friend from murdering somebody or start yelling like a psycho, but bakugo just hollowed his lungs right after.

watching deadpanned as you walked away giggling.

that behavior... it was truly concerning coming from him.

"are you totally sure?" mina whispered excited.

"it's a great probability, didn't you see that monstrosity of a hand!?" you whisper-exclaimed. "his grip almost crushed mine!"

"okay, but let's don't get ahead of ourselves, there's other boys to analyze." mina said carefully.

"right, but he's a suspect! and did you notice how he didn't hesitate or felt uneasy to hold my hand?"

"i'm not jumping to conclusions but he seemed too chill! it's almost unnatural coming from a person who wrote a love letter." mina spoke wisely.

"you're right." you pouted.

"what am i suspect about? love letter!?"

"aaaaaack! for fucks sake!" you and mina jolted. "y-you heard us?" you asked shyly.

"were you eavesdropping!?" mina confronted.

the boy leaned in the doorframe crossing his arms unphazed by the pink's attitude. "you're not even whispering... some of 1b even heard about how i have big ass hands and shit." he chuckled.

you looked over shinso's shoulder only to encounter monoma, kendo, shiozaki and komori confusedly observing at some distance. "h-hey guys..." and kendo smiled amused.

"he caught us, mina. what do we do?" you said fidgety.

"there's no other way now that he knows our secret. we must kill you." mina stated creepily serious to shinso, making him falter.

"ha. you almost got me there." he laughed mindlessly. after a couple of seconds staring at each other he came to realization. " you're joking,,, right?"

_

"why did you have to scare him like that? what if he go out telling others?"

"it's quite the opposite. he won't tell anyone if he believes it's confidential information. you can question my methods but not my results!" the pink girl explained confidently.

walking down the corridor in search for another male friend. now that the lunchtime was coming to an end the school was less fuzzy, and the groups concentrated in their usual places.

"uh... mina... you're not actually dangerous, are you?" you blurted.

she looked at you puzzled, as if that question was more complicated than it actually seemed. "why do you ask?"

"it's just because, you're my best friend, and if it were for me to have a psycho so close to me i would want to know..." you reasoned.

"don't be ridiculous!" she laughed. "but like you said, we're best friends, that does mean i would probably hide a body for you."

"wait. what the-"

_

"kirishima it's been thirty minutes." the blonde stated impatiently.

the boys were sitting casually at their class waiting for the others to come grab their keys to the closets. p.e was the next hour.

"just be patient dude, when she arrives, you casually get up and go talk to her. do you remember the three steps?" the red haired pointed.

"don't scream, don't curse and look at her in the eye." bakugo grumbled a little skeptical.

when they heard high pitched voices and footsteps approaching the blonde jolted in his seat.

"there they are." kirishima whispered. "good luck soldier"

katsuki got up with a sigh, heart beating fast, he didn't even notice his feet leading him directly to you and almost fainted when you looked at him with those doe eyes.

"h-hey."

"hey!" you greeted rummaging your backpack.

"i was... i recalled that time last week you shared your notes and... i"

"you came to say thanks? it's alrighty! just gimme a shoutout whenever you need!" you smiled

his ears reddened. "y-yeah. but i was trying to ask if ya wanna grab milkshakes sometimes, my treat for the notes." katsuki managed to spill

"oh! i didn't expect that" you giggled thinking that was a cute way to invite someone to hang out. "sure. i provide the notes, you provide the milkshakes." you extended your hand "deal?"

he smirked satisfied shaking you hand.

"deal."

#katsuki bakugou x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou x fem!reader #self insert #mha fluff #mha fanfiction #bakugou fluff #bakugou x you #katsuki bakugo x reader #mha x reader #katsuki bakugo x y/n #bakugo x reader #my hero academia

[spookie-bitch]

Mischeif

Pairings: Wednesday Addams X Fem!Demon!Reader

Contains: fluff, angst, comfort

Warnings: mentions of death, language, gore, and spoilers.

You tossed your bag down by your bed and sat down, "Why in the world does principal Weems think it's a good idea to give me another roommate," you think angrily, "It won't end any different than the last few and she knows it!" Nonetheless you still had taken the time out of your day to clear out half of the room to accommodate for them, even though they won't be there for longer than two weeks. Weems always said it was because I was just more than they were used too, but I think we both know that the're actually scared, everyone is.

Your thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door. "That's strange," you thought looking at your watch,"the're not supposed to be here for another hour." You make your way over to the door, opening it to be met my principal Weem's smiling face. "Your early," you say dryly. "Just wanted to check in before they arrive," she says, "But by the looks of it you've already got everything under control," she says in a proud tone, surveying the room. You say nothing, hoping that your silence would imply that you were already done with the conversation. "I know what your probably thinking," she says, " but I believe that you and this girl will become the best of friends." You sigh, slightly annoyed with the conversation, "That's what you said about the other ones too," you remind her.

She frowns, "Look y/n, I want you to try your best with this one," she says in a more serious tone, "I usually don't ask that much of you in these situations, so I ask that you just to your best." "Fine," you reply bitterly. She seems satisfied with your answer, "well then, I'll be on my way then," she says turning to leave. "No promises," you yell, closing the door before she has the chance to respond. You sit back down on your bed and put your headphones on, frustrated and annoyed, you tail flicking back and forth viciously as a sign of your annoyance.

After a while, their is another knock on the door and you groan, pausing the music coming from your headphones and opening the door. "Wednesday, this is y/n," Weems said giving you her usual smile. "Oh it has horns dear," remarks a tall, pale, woman with long, raven hair. "I am not an it," you growl, your tail wrapping around your legs definitely, causing Weems to look a bit nervous. The girl who you assume is Wednesday gives you a slow look up and down, her expression remaining cold and emotionless. After a few moments of awkward silence, principle Weems breaks the silence, "well why don't we go and get Wednesday's schedule and after Ms. Y/n can give her a tour of the school."

Nobody objects to the idea and they turn to leave, but before Weems closes the door she gives you a look that tells you not to do anything stupid while showing the girl around. After a bit, only the girl returned to the room, you had been sitting on your bed listening to music while waiting. "I believe you're supposed to show me around this prison," stated Wednesday, surveying you again. You look back at the pigtailed girl, guy up off the bed and walk towards the door, clearly agitated. "Someone's in a mood," Wednesday comments, following you.

Once you finish showing her around, you plop back down on your bed and begin to draw, praying that you will be left alone. Lucky, Wednesday minds her own business and stays on her side of the room doing God knows what when a thought pops into your mind. "Wednesday sure is a weird name," you blirt out almost to quickly, instantly regretting it as all motion in the room stopps. "So I've been told," replies Wednesday. "As far as names go, it's not the most traditional. But that's fine by me, I'm not exactly the most traditional person." "What's your deal anyway, you've barely said a word since you got here and you've just been silently judging everyone," you add, intrigued by the girls unnatural behavior.

"I find social interaction tiresome and pointless," she replies dryly. "Of course you do."

#jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x fem reader #jenna ortega x you #lesbian pride #lgbtq #wednesday x fem!reader #wednesday x you #wednesday fanfic #wednesday addams #jenna ortega #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x y/n #wednesday #jenna marie ortega #wednsday addams

[atinylittlepain]

hello bestie im back here again with a joel idea <33

ur smut is so fucking good but im in need of some nice fluff rn because I love the last of us but god that show is hard to watch i get so emotional its hard to keep watching sometimes

but for a fluff idea where the reader, joel, and ellie settle down in jackson and Joel begins to realize that he's happy again and he becomes unsure because he feels guilty about sarah but it ends happily bc its what all of them deserve

my darling, my comrade, thank you for bringing this idea to me. i hope i did it justice <3

gif by @maygrant

Good

Joel Miller x f!reader

joel miller masterlist

Stuck between the despair of the past and fear for the future, Joel struggles to accept the goodness he's found in the present.

warnings | 18+ angst, living with grief, lovely sweetness

..........................

“I still can’t believe that. All that time in FEDRA school and they never taught you how to swim?” Ellie huffs at that, stomping a little further ahead of Joel as she mutters.

“It’s not like we had a fucking pool to do laps in, old man. Give me a break.” He breathes out a laugh, glancing away from the kid and toward his woman as she falls into step beside him.

“No time like the present, kid. Gonna have you swimming like a pro by the end of the day.” He can’t help but smile at her words, and in anticipation of the spectacle that watching her teach Ellie how to swim is going to be. They had lucked out, all three of them having this perfect summer day off from class and shifts in town, and had packed up their day in rucksacks to hike out to the nearby lake with the promise that Ellie would finally learn how to swim.

Life has been– he won’t think the word good, not wanting to jinx anything– but maybe normal? They’ve been living in Jackson for a few months now, and he never thought he’d get used to things like running water and home cooked food ever again, but it seems like he has. Ellie goes to classes while they pick up shifts wherever they’re needed, and at the end of the day, they all come… home. He supposes it is home now, and that makes him nervous as hell. He knows better than most that the minute you get used to something in this world, it tends to disappear on you, and maybe that’s what has been making him hold his woman -  the same woman he crawled across the country with - a little closer when they go to sleep each night in their nice, comfortable bed. 

His thoughts have been swirling between these fears for the future, and a deep despair for the past. If he stays surface level, he usually concludes that he doesn’t deserve any of this, any of the smiles, the easing laughs with Ellie, the sweet press of his woman’s palm along his shoulders letting him know she’s still there. Not after everything he did to get by before. But if he needles past the last twenty years, he hits something that stings even more when he remembers that any happiness he gets, Sarah will always be gone. 

He’s starting to be pulled under by his mind as they continue hiking, but she keeps him buoyed with the way she tangles her fingers with his, offering him a smile as they near the lake. They all shrug off their packs in the grass, she and Ellie already toeing off their shoes. When he sits down with a groan, leaning back on his hands, she gives him a questioning look.

“You’re not coming in?” He squints up at her, the mid-day sun a halo around her head.

“Someone oughta keep lookout. You two go on.” Her mouth twists up, but she drops it with a shrug, pulling off her t-shirt to reveal the faded swimsuit she had managed to trade for along with Ellie’s. The kid is standing with her hands on her hips, looking out at the lake like she’s surveying a new planet. She sidles up alongside Ellie, slinging her arm over the girl’s shoulder and murmuring something about “proving the old man wrong” that makes her laugh, the worry scrunching up her face quick to relieve itself. Joel doesn’t even have time to be annoyed at what she called him, times like these making him quick to thaw, when the kid actually gets to be a kid. 

As she is in most things, Ellie is a quick learner, after some initial trepidation, and soon Joel’s watching the two of them dip and swerve through the water, the picture of grace in the clear summer heat. He smiles to himself, remembering how Sarah learned how to swim. Tommy bribed her into the rec center pool with the promise of a strawberry milkshake, and by the end of the day, Joel had to bribe her out of the pool with the promise of fries to go with said milkshake. The pain is quick to settle in at the memory. He finds himself bringing a palm to his chest, trying to rub out the ache even though he knows it won’t ever go away.

His attention is pulled away by Ellie hauling herself out of the lake, bending over and shaking her dripping hair out before plopping down next to him to rummage through her pack. He glances down at his jeans, now darkened by spots of water from her aggressive shake-off, before turning and quirking his brow at her. Already scarfing down her sandwich, she shrugs, mumbling through a mouthful.

“What? I’m fucking starving, man.” He shakes his head, trying to look annoyed, but failing miserably with the smile he can’t fight off.

“Language, kid. And you’re gonna have to wait a while after eating that if you wanna get back in.” Her brow furrows at that.

“Why?” 

“Because– because you– look, that’s just the rule, ok? S’what they always said– gotta wait a while after you eat if you wanna swim.” 

“Who’s they?” That makes him huff.

“I don’t know, alright? Christ, do whatever you want.” He knows it’s too harsh, but he’s having a hard time staying in the present when the past is hanging so heavy over him. He sighs, resting his arms over his knees and leaning forward, his gaze unfocusing into the grass.

“Joel?”

“Hmm?” He keeps his gaze hung low, just tilting his head slightly toward Ellie to let her know he is listening.

“Are you ok?” The question catches him entirely off guard, his head whipping around to look at her, his eyes squinted. 

“I’m fine.” Ellie mirrors his own expression, eyes squinting, mouth in a close line as she nods.

“You deserve to be ok, y’know? I believe that.” She just keeps surprising him, and he coughs hard, trying to clear the tightness in his throat before he responds.

“I know, kid. Thank you– I’ll be ok.” She nods again, seeming to accept his answer as she looks back out at the lake. His eyes follow, seeing his woman, floating on her back with a serene look on her face, her arms lightly swaying in the water. He knows Ellie had slipped and called her mom the other day. Maybe it wasn’t a slip at all. 

“Well, if I can’t get back in right now, one of us might as well. Go on, old man. I’ll keep lookout.” He grumbles at the nickname that both of them seem to have settled on for him, but the heat has gotten to him just enough that he listens to her, getting up and shrugging out of his unlaced boots, his t-shirt and jeans quick to follow.

“Jesus, my eyes!” He huffs as Ellie cackles to herself, but is a little too focused on the look his woman is giving him from the middle of the lake to pay much mind to her jabs. 

The water is cool, a relief to every aching joint in his body as he wades in. He can’t remember the last time he did something like this. She meets him in the middle of the lake, an easy smile on her lips as she winds her arms around the back of his neck.

“Hey, handsome.” Even after all this time, he’s still prone to blushing when she talks like that, all syrup and sweetness. He scoffs to hide the creeping heat, his one hand coming to skate up and down her back. She tilts her head, seeming to search his face as she murmurs lowly.

“You’ve been scowling all day. Gonna tell me what’s going on?” She can read him like a book, always could, and it drives him insane most of the time.

“M’fine.” By the look on her face, he knows she isn’t going to accept that answer. He sighs.

“I just– this doesn’t feel real. Like– it’s too good to be true, don’t you think?” Her brow furrows at his words.

“I think it’s good for sure. But I can understand what you mean– waiting for the other shoe to drop, right?” He nods, both of them swaying lightly in the ebb of the water.

“It’s that– but I can’t stop thinking about– about–” His words fizzle out in his throat as he catches sight of something, a flickering of movement hovering just above the water. 

Wings. The smallest splotches of colors blinking like eyes. A butterfly. The only thing that runs through his mind is a name. Her name. His Sarah.

Suddenly, a breathy laugh is rolling out of him.

“What? What is it? Is this– are you having a stroke?” The ridiculousness of the genuine worry across her face just makes him laugh more, his hands finding purchase on her waist and pulling her closer. 

“Joel, this isn’t funny. What’s–” He cuts her off with a smacking kiss, her face stunned when he pulls away.

“I’m fine, darlin. I’m gonna be fine.” He glances one more time at the butterfly, alighted on the surface of the lake for a second before it flutters away. But he knows she hasn’t really left him. Wherever he goes, he knows he has her with him.

He kisses his woman again, this time to the much-vocalized chagrin of Ellie on the water’s edge.

“Gross! You guys are scarring me for life here!” She pulls away from him with a laugh, hollering at Ellie to mind her own business before fixing her attention back on him with a grin.

“Good?” He nods.

“Good.”

#joel miller angst #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller x you #joel miller x reader #joel miller #joel miller fluff #joel miller one shot #joel miller imagine #tlou fanfiction #the last of us #tlou

[maxidentscene]

strictly platonic

⚘ genre. a bit suggestive?? fluff?? idrk

⚘ members. ot8

chan just wants to chill in a hot tub

You knew that Chan would want to get in the hot tub the second you surveyed the Airbnb. You figured that one of the guys could join him, you weren’t sure if you’d be able to handle being in it with him and only him

Alas, he invited you anyway, to which you agreed to because you could never say no to him. Here he sat, right in front of you, head rolled back and soaking up the warm water. “This is the fucking best.”

It would be more enjoyable if he had a shirt on. Maybe then, you’d be able to stop drooling. You’d be able to focus on literally anything other than his body. He was your friend, your closest friend, you shouldn’t be looking at him like that

Who could blame you? Chris was one of the most handsome guys you’d ever laid eyes on. There was no denying your attraction, but times like these were the ones you hated the most because he seemed to catch your staring every single time

“Like what you see?” He joked with a laugh. Oh, if only he knew

lee know didn’t seem to mind sharing a bed

“How funny,” Minho scoffed, standing over the single bed that the two of you were supposed to share overnight. The managers must’ve forgot that they were supposed to book a double for this stay, since you’d be attending. “Well, what can we do? Just a night, right?”

It was his first priority to make sure that this scenario didn’t make you uncomfortable. If it did, he was ready to sleep on the floor, but he relaxed once you plopped down on the mattress. “Guess so. Go shower first, you stink.”

With a roll of his eyes, he did as told, leaving you to stare at the ceiling and mentally prepare yourself. This would be your first time sleeping side by side despite knowing him for over a decade. It would be easier if you didn’t have a raging crush on him

“You look nervous,” he teased from the doorframe, scaring you. With a laugh, he dried his hair off and got himself comfortable on his side. “If you are, just say the word. Speak now or forever hold your peace.”

You responded by getting under the covers as well, quick to turn out the lights on your side, hoping that’ll help calm yourself down. God, your palms were so sweaty. Everything went well until he started tossing a bit, back now pressed right against yours. This was gonna be fun

changbin can’t seem to find a good place for his hands

Going around with the guys meant that space was limited. They came as a pack and moved as a pack, all of them shoving into the same vehicle to go from place to place. So, when you were nearly sat in Changbin’s lap, you couldn’t even be surprised

You preferred being in his personal space than any of the others, only because you’ve known him since school. Most of the time, you were with them as you were his best friend, so you’ve gotten used to their presence. Just not quite at the point where you’d sit on them if need be

A pair of hands placed themselves on your lap and you instantly froze. Of course, there wasn’t a place for Changbin to keep his hands to himself. Of course, he’d have to reach over you to rest, why were you so shaken up about it?

Was it because you’ve been helplessly in love with him for years? Yeah, that would sure do it. You felt that you couldn’t move a single inch, nearly jumping out of your skin once he started sliding them up and down, not even thinking about it because he was so comfortable with you

“You okay?” Hyunjin asked from beside you, laughing knowingly at your shocked expression. Changbin extended his neck to look your way, just barely catching sight of the sweat gathering near your neck. “You look a little hot over there.” Leave it to the boys to blow your cover

hyunjin has a staring problem

You thought you were going crazy when you felt something, someone burning holes into the side of your face as you slouched over the table, trying to get some work done as you waited for Hyunjin to finish up his meal

“Is there something on my face?” You quirk a brow at him, patting all over your cheeks. It was obvious that he was staring at you, and if you were honest, his gaze made you squirm in your seat. It was intense and usually you could read him, but right now, he was impossible

He barely shook his head, eyes locked on your lips. It was so blatantly obvious and you wondered if this was on purpose or if he genuinely couldn’t tell how forward he was being. Regardless, you could feel yourself heating up and there was no stopping the butterflies that flooded your stomach

He’s always just been stupid Hyunjin that all the girls liked. He’s always been a silly guy that liked to read and listen to stories and perform. He’s always been your companion, someone who you could go to without judgement and be yourself around

So why now? Why do you want to shy away from him? Why does he suddenly have such an intense effect on you with a single gesture? Why does his eye contact make your heart beat out of your chest?

han desperately needed you to shut up

Jisung had pulled a prank on Chan, and normally you were on board with these pranks but you weren’t warned beforehand. So, you didn’t hold back on calling out his name as soon as you saw him suspiciously hiding in a corner

“I was wondering where you’ve been!” You called out rather loud, announcing his position to the entire building. In a panic, he tugged you over to him and clamped a hand over your mouth. At first, you wanted to fight back, ask him what the hell his deal was

Then again, this was Hannie. He surely did something that caused one of the members to be turning the dorm upside down to look for him. So, understanding the situation, you shut your mouth

Yet, he didn’t let go. He still had a rough hand over your mouth, keeping your sounds quiet. You were sure that he could feel the heat in your cheeks, you were sure he could feel the rate of your breathing. You were held quite tightly against him after all

Everything was semi-calm until you locked eyes. You’ve always been able to communicate with a single look, but right now, you weren’t sure what he was feeling. It was new, he looked a way that you’ve never seen before. What was it?

felix invited you to watch him perform

Everyone knows that Felix’s duality is insane. He’s a beast on stage, a total 180 from the normal Felix that you’d see every single day. You agreed when your best friend offered you tickets to watch him do what he does best, after all, you’re a supportive friend

You couldn’t help but see him in a new light after watching him devour the concert. His movements when dancing are so precise, his jaw locks in place when he’s concentrated, his voice is killer and smooth at the same time

“Did you enjoy yourself out there?” Felix shot you a hearty smile and you almost felt bad for feeling so attracted to him. He just did what he always does, he gave every song and choreo his all. It’s not his fault that you’re now noticing the appeal that everyone else around you seems to see

You could tell that he was studying your expression, hopefully not examining the way that your eyes were shaking and the way that your chest started rising and falling a bit faster at the proximity. That would probably give you away.

There was no fighting him. He probably had you figured out already. With a large gulp, you gave a nod. “Great as always.”

seungmin doesn’t give a single fuck and flirts directly

It was hard to tell when Seungmin was playing with you or being serious. You’ve never been able to differentiate the two and it’s only gotten worse throughout the years, he’s gotten bolder with the comments he’d make and it’s starting to make your mind wander

Whether it’s offering his hand when walking across the street or changing out of his attire into comfy clothes over FaceTime, there are moments when you question what type of relationship you have with him

He does this all on purpose too. “Stop dressing up so nice lately,” Seungmin puts a hand over his heart, acting faint. Another one of those times where you aren’t sure if he’s just messing with you. “You’ll make me fall in love.”

Whatever he’s doing, whatever he’s aiming for, he needs to stop. It’s gonna start working because you’re noticing that you’re holding your breath, waiting for the next action or comment. Waiting for another old lady to tell you in public that you’re such a cute couple like the lady from last week

You don’t smile like you usually do. You don’t laugh. Instead, your eyes soften up and he watches the way that your breath hitches in your throat. Oh.

jeongin gets stuck in the heat of the moment

It wasn’t often that the two of you would bicker, but right now, Jeongin was very clearly not the happiest person in the world. You had gone against what he advised and went on a date with someone that had a sketchy history, especially without telling anyone

You’re allowed to do what you want but he just hates to know that you aren’t safe. You were told about yourself as soon as you came back to the dorm, ready to moan and groan about how bad it went

“Why didn’t you listen?” He asked from his spot on the table, watching you in his peripheral as you slumped against the kitchen counter. You could only shake your head and sigh because he was right

“I was curious.” He seemed to dislike your answer, erupting from his seat and backing you further into the counter, both arms locking you in place on either side. You weren’t scared or surprised, he’s always been a little protective about things like this. It was just one of the things that came with being his childhood best friend

The air seemed thicker and it was suddenly unbearably hot. You could feel his breath hit your cheek and you were sure that locking eyes was the worst idea. So, you sat this one out

#bang chan x reader #chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #han x reader #jisung x reader #felix x reader #seungmin x reader #i.n x reader #jeongin x reader #skz x reader #stray kids x reader #stray kids headcanons #stray kids scenarios

[bethanydelleman]

Why you should read Northanger Abbey

Northanger Abbey frequently scores second on polls of least liked Austen novel, but I honestly don’t know why because it's awesome. So let me try to convince you to read it...

Northanger Abbey: Everything you could wish for in a novel!

The Most Attractive Leading Man in Austen: I know you think you want Darcy, but do you really want a man who can’t take a joke? How about instead of insulting you at the assembly, he dances with you and makes you laugh! Surveys reveal that “makes me laugh” is a consistently attractive trait in a future spouse. Besides being extraordinarily funny, he also will willingly take you dress shopping, loves his sister, and reads novels. Shall we agree that he is the perfect man?

Most Relatable Leading Lady: Despite having a good education, are you sometimes a little lost in a conversation? Are you reasonably good looking, passably intelligent, and only somewhat accomplished? Catherine Morland is just a normal, everyday girl who stands up against peer pressure and falls head-over-heels in love with a cute guy. If she could be born to be a heroine, than all of us can be!

Villains So Well Drawn You Will Swear you Met Them Yesterday: Have you met a guy who constantly brags about his vehicle, talks without actually saying anything, and who assumes that girls will go for him even though he has nothing to recommend him? I have, and so has Jane Austen, its John Thorpe! Isabella is a classic drama queen who is dating a really sweet nerd but angling for the football star. You knew her in high school, I guarantee it.

Highly quotable one liners:

“I cannot speak well enough to be unintelligible.”

“The person, be it gentleman or lady, who has not pleasure in a good novel, must be intolerably stupid.”

“His departure gave Catherine the first experimental conviction that a loss may be sometimes a gain.”

Great life lessons: 

“No man is offended by another man’s admiration of the woman he loves; it is the woman only who can make it a torment.”

“Beware how you give your heart.”

“Our pleasures in this world are always to be paid for.”

and best of all, a passionate defence of reading novels from the Narrator, who continues to be sarcastic and hilarious throughout the novel.

Northanger Abbey, honestly, what’s not to love?

#austen ads #northanger abbey #such a great novel #jane austen #I think people know it's weird and so avoid it? #but I don't get the hate #It is delightful #and you don't have to read Mysteries of Udolpho first #the tropes this novel satirizes are still common today #henry tilney supremacy #catherine morland #henry tilney

[centrally-unplanned]

I have been seeing a bunch of buzz recently online about a possible "decline in value" of the ivy league+ degree - Nate Silver didn't start it but he certainly accelerated it. And while there is nothing robust you do see things like surveys of hiring manager opinions out there to suggest its possible, its not a crazy idea even if its far from proven. So assuming its real, why would it be happening?

1: This discourse is obviously happening because of the recent protests at top US schools - essentially its the idea that elite students are hyperpolitical, coddled, and out of touch with reality. This causal path should be very, very silly. The vast, vast majority of students at Columbia are not protesting. They don't really care about this topic! Sure, if asked, they agree Israel Bad Right Now, but otherwise they are busy with finals and job apps. This is of course equally true at most other schools, its just not a mass movement in that way (protesting to be clear rarely is). This is a specific instance of the general trap of selection bias - the visible students aren't the median ones.

Stacked on top of that is the second level of selection bias - the median protestor is not a business major or engineer! They are exactly the kind of students for whom being a politically engaged activist is *good* for their career, not bad, or at least neutral. Schools produce a large diversity of career outcomes, and those students self-select on how they spend their time, there is no "median" student to observe really.

And ofc all of this has to rest on the foundational reality that people are products of their context - jobless 20 year old's surrounded by young peers protest a bunch, that is what that context produces. The large majority of them will become mortgage-paying white collar workers by the time they are 30, this identity will not stick with them. If they become political activists it will, sure! But if you are the hiring manager for Palantir this isn't going to be the trend for your hires. There are "politically liable" hires out there but you aren't going to predict them via the sorting algorithm of "was at Columbia in 2024", that is for sure.

Now, as much as this is a silly idea, humanity are zeitgeist creatures - I can't actually reject the idea that, despite it being silly, hiring managers might use this moment to feel like they are "over" the Ivy League and start dismantling the privileged place their applications currently get. Cultural tipping points are vibes-based, and amoung elites (unlike the masses, who don't care much) Israel/Palestine has an awful lot of tense vibes.

2: Still, I don't think this is explaining those survey results people are throwing around, and I don't think its explained (very much at least) by the general "woke uni" trends of the past half decade. It is instead downstream of wider trends.

There was a time where companies really did want "the smart guy". You could major in English at Harvard, write a good thesis on Yeats, and be off to the trading desk in Chambers St two weeks after graduation. Those days are over - for complex reasons we won't get into - and nowadays people expect their new hires to be as close to experts in the field as they can manage. Students have internships, consulting clubs, capstone projects with real clients, specialized sub majors, the works. These are all ways of saying "signaling quality" has gotten more legible and more specific over time. Why would I choose a Harvard English major over a University of Illinois finance major who did a research internship with our specific Chicago firm on midwest agricultural derivates markets? Students like that exist by the bucketful now, and the Ivys cannot monopolize them. Partially because they choose not to; Columbia could actually say fuck it and make its school 90% finance majors, but they don't want that, they specifically recruit intellectually diverse students. Which means State School finance types will fill the remaining slots slots.

The other reason they can't monopolize is much simpler - numbers. The US has way more "elite" jobs today than it did in the past. Programmers and their adjacencies are the biggest growth sector, but everything from doctors to analysts to lawyers is all up up up. And do you know what isn't up? Undergraduate enrollment at elite schools! Columbia's has grown by like 10% over the past 20 years; Harvard's is essentially unchanged. For, again, reasons, these schools have found the idea of doubling or tripling their undergraduate enrollment, despite ballooning applications, impossible. Which means of course Microsoft can't hire from Stanford alone. So they don't, and they have learned what other schools deliver talent, and no longer need Stanford alone. The decline of Ivy Power is in this sense mathematical - if a signal of quality refuses to grow to meet demand, of course other signals will emerge.

I therefore personally think, while minor, the Ivy+ schools are experiencing declining status, have been for a while, and will continue to do so (though there are offsetting trends not mentioned here btw). But its structural way more than cultural.

#Do not take anything here as a moral/value judgement of any specific group of course - its all from the analytical lens

[dellalyra]

𝙛𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙙 - 𝙛𝙖𝙢𝙞𝙡𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙧𝙢𝙖𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨

A/N: request from my wife @soraya-daydreams - this is almost crack I stg.

Summary: The kids try edibles. Yuuji - maybe went overboard.

CW: the kids do edibles, swearing, crackfic, one or two suggestive sentences idk. mdni shoo go away

“But where would we even get it? It’s not like I have many drug dealing contacts.” Nobara hisses, as the three first years discuss their plans in a secluded part of the grounds.

“Fushiguro - your parents would definitely know where to get some, why don’t we ask them?” Itadori pokes his boyfriend’s shoulder.

“Yeah they probably would, but they don’t do that shit anymore - Dad never could because of … all the eyes. Plus, with Akio being so young I don’t want them to have something to worry about if they start to fuss over us all smoking.” Megumi muses.

“Valid - when we started dating your Dad gave me lube and condoms and asked if I needed the sex talk, I think I died again that day.” Itadori nods, solemnly.

“Back to the issue at hand! Where do we obtain one bag of weed?” Nobara says, hands slapping the desk she sits at.

The three first years had decided that they wanted to do teenage stuff - since their lives were so crazy, Megumi was a potential heir for a large Sorcerer family and the son of the strongest sorcerers alive - Itadori was Sukuna’s vessel and Nobara was well on her way to a first grade, as well as the issues with being a young woman in sorcery. Because of their guardians (self-appointed) being as chill as they were, they didn’t really have anything to rebel against, so there was no point in sneaking out when they can just say where they are going with a ‘text when you get there’ from Y/N. There was no point in trying to sneak their parents alcohol, because there’s a ‘you can drink with us, or under our roof safely’ policy in place too. There was no secret dating, Itadori and Megumi were together already and Nobara… well, she hoped it wouldn’t be long before a certain Zen’in girl realised she was crazy about her. So that left smoking a joint, but Itadori said he had tried a cigarette before and hated it when he was at a party in school and Nobara didn’t want to smoke and stain her nails - so it was decided Yuuji would make brownies… special brownies.

“We could ask someone? Todo, maybe?” Yuuji suggests, before being answered with a unanimous ‘absolutely not’.

“I don’t know anyone else we could ask for weed from!” He responds, his sole idea shut down.

“You guys need weed?” A voice asks from behind them.

In the archway to the part of the garden stands a tall, beautiful woman with long blonde hair - holding a motorbike helmet under her arm and smiling.

Megumi thought he knew the woman from somewhere, photos maybe? Or was she at the wedding?

“Tsukomo-san! It’s - absolutely amazing to meet you!” Nobara says, shooting up from the bench.

“Wait - Yuki Tsukomo?! Who was Todo’s mentor?!” Yuuji adds.

“Ah, so you know that little knucklehead. Crazy kid, whole lotta balls I’ll tell ya that much. So - you guys need weed?” She says, leaning against the arch and shoving her hand into a pocket inside the jacket, before producing a small bag of greenery from inside.

“Eh! It’s - not what you think, we’re not - wait, is that weed? You have some?” Nobara asks.

“Sweetheart, I’ve travelled the world and back twice, of course I have some good - here, take this - share with the boys if you want.” She says, winking at Nobara who, for the first time in 6 months, swoons over someone who isn’t Maki Zen’in. Yuuji doesn’t fare much better.

She turns to leave, but gets caught by the sight of the boy beside Sukuna’s vessel.

“Holy shit, kid. Frightened the fuck outta me, fuckin’ clone of your old man.” She says, surveying him.

His head snaps to look at her.

“You knew him?” He asks.

“Yeah, cool guy - pretty fucked up, but still pretty cool. If ya ask me, you were way better off with the Jujutsu Royals - Y/N’s a badass, love that lil’ lady. The beanstalks alright, too - got some talent. She have the baby yet?” She asks, as she clips her bike helmet on.

“Um, yeah. He’s 10 months old now, just started walking.” He says, flabbergasted by this woman.

“Sick one, tell her good job from Yuki. Enjoy kids.” She says, and saunters away - and second later they hear the rumble of an engine.

The three are silent for a minute.

“What the fuck just happened?” Yuuji asks.

“Um… a special grade sorcerer just gave us a bag of weed.” Nobara says, equally as confused.

“I’m too tired for this shit. C’mon, let’s go inside.” He says, as they all begin making their way to the dorm rooms.

“Bone apple feet!”

Yuuji plops a plate of really delicious looking brownies down on the desk in front of his two fellow first years.

“So… do we just… eat a brownie each?” Nobara asks.

“Well, I made 6! So there’s 2 for each of us? Or we could ask the second years -” Yuuji is cut off.

“Ask the second years what?” Came the voice of Maki Zen’in from the doorway.

“Oh! Are they brownies?!” Panda asks, immediately making a beeline.

“They’re eh… special brownies.” Megumi nods.

“Shit - you kids make edibles?” Maki asks, a pleased smirk on her face.

“Do you guys want some?” Yuuji asks.

“Shake!” Inumaki says, sliding past Panda to grab a brownie as he turns away to pull his mask down and eat.

Maki looks at Nobara, who flushes and smiles, as Maki takes a seat on the bed beside her and takes 2 brownies - passing one to the flustered girl beside her.

Yuuji and Panda go next, each almost devouring their brownie in one bite - with Megumi taking his and deciding that you actually can’t taste the weed.

They all sit there for a few minutes.

“Yuuji - are you sure you put enough in? I’m not feeling anything?” Megumi asks, perplexed by the lack of effect.

“Well, I used the whole bag - but it was pretty small I guess.” They all just sit and chat together until out of the blue, a highly unusual sound comes from the corner of the room.

Inumaki was hysterically laughing at his phone, tears streaming down his face.

He spins the phone around, and immediately Maki and Megumi lose it laughing - true, belly shaking laughter from both the ex-Zen’in’s.

The video in question that made them all lose it was a man doing a voiceover on a video of a bird.

Maki’s laughter doesn’t seem to disturb the girl beside her, who - apparently within the last 30 seconds - passed out asleep, drooling on Itadori’s shoulder, and cuddling his arm.

Itadori on the other hand, had never looked so serious in his life. In his head, he was desperately trying to answer the universe’s biggest questions.

Are we alone in the universe? Is there other intelligent life? What is life, what are we here? Are human’s the true villains? Which Disney villain has the best fashion sense? Who closes the bus door after the driver gets off? Is this a simulation, am I being controlled by a greater being? What is God, was Ariana correct - is God a woman?

His mind was running through every profound thought a man could ever have, the universe’s question’s suddenly becoming his main goal and a quest only he can achieve.

Megumi’s interest in the multitude of videos that had Maki doing impressions of birds and Inumaki cackling had dwindled, growing distracted by the beautiful boy in front of him. Yuuji was so pretty, so perfect, so kind and so sexy. That thought flushed through his mind as the memories of times they had… ‘spent the night’ together made him giggle like a schoolgirl and flush bright red. He made his way over to Yuuji and sat himself on his lap, stroking his hair and pressing kisses to his cheeks.

“I love you, Yu - you’re so pretty. I wanna be your husband someday and I’ll help you make meatballs every night and we can get a dog.” Megumi started his enamoured rant, as he realised he’d never said these things out loud before and wondered why the hell hasn’t he? They’ve been dating for 4 months now, he must have just forgotten. He continued gushing over his boyfriend and pressing kisses to his nose and cheeks - Yuuji was externally smiling and had the Nobara free hand wrapped around his love’s waist but inside his mind was a whirlwind.

Is the s or the c in scent the silent letter? How does glue not stick to the bottle? What is colour? How many holes does a straw have? Is this real - am I real?

Panda, on the other hand - had never felt more paranoid in his life. This room, eyes everywhere. They we’re watching him, the walls we’re watching him. He abruptly stood up and stumbled to the door, and tried the handle.

It didn’t budge.

(It was just locked, he just needed to slide the lock.)

He tried again.

Nothing.

By now he was panicking and pulling at the door with all his might. He was Panda - he will not be imprisoned! So he did the only thing he knew and slammed his way through the door. It flew off its hinges and lay in two pieces on the hallway floor.

In the corridor, looking at a cheering Panda, running away and chanting ‘freedom’ - stood a tall, white haired man and his wife.

They just exchanged looks with each other before poking their heads into Nobara’s dorm room - where they had originally planned to knock.

They both surveyed the scene in front of them for a moment, before you just whispered:

“What the fuck…?” Your voice alerted the kids who all immediately froze.

“Is this opposites day? What’s going on here, kiddos?” Satoru asks, leaning against the wall.

“Nothing! Nothing is going on! We’re just - we’re having a girl’s night!” Yuuji spouted.

“Yeah! A girl’s night.” Megumi agreed.

As you both looked at all of them, you poked Satoru and pointed to your eyes - desperately trying not to laugh. The red eyes and droopy faces and flushed cheeks were painfully obvious and highly recognisable from your school days.

The kids were high as shit.

“Oh - what are you all doing?” Satoru says, thoroughly enjoying torturing them all.

“We’re eh - Nobara and I - we’re talking about boys! Crushes on boys and things. Penis talk.” Maki tries to explain.

Inumaki can’t deal with this and can’t hold back his laughter as Maki says ‘penis talk’ he loses his mind and flops laughing onto the desk.

“Maki honey, you’re a lesbian.” You say, and she raises her eyebrows - forgetting the ultimate flaw to her excuse being that she has no more interest in penis possessing men than she does going on a date with a curse.

“Also - Nobara doesn’t look like she’d make for a great conversation right now.” Satoru smirks, looking at the slightly snoring Kugisaki.

“Yuuji? Megumi?” You say, excited to hear what they say.

“I am doing homework! Studying, learning about eh - curses.” Yuuji says, picking up a blue object from beside him.

“Oh? I didn’t think you could do homework on a Nintendo Switch?” Satoru can’t help it now, the frantic excuses might be the highlight of his week.

“I do my homework beside a switch everyday.” Megumi says, smirking a provocative smile and pinching his boyfriend’s cheek.

That’s the final straw for you and Satoru who can’t help it anymore and the dam breaks.

You fall into him, head in his chest as he almost collapses from crippling laughter as you all survey the whacked out teenagers.

“Shit, ‘toru - were we all the obvious?” You ask, wheezing.

“God no - you guys were way better, how high are you?!” He asks, tears falling from behind his blindfold.

“I’m 5ft 11 inches.” Megumi says, smiling brightly and patting the top of his head.

That sets you both off again.

“Oh fucking hell, this has gotta be edibles.” You say, trying to catch your breath.

“That’s a fun word - isn’t it, edibles? ED - IB - LES. edi-bles. Wait - am I saying that right? Hold on, am I talking or is this in my head?” Maki considers.

Megumi stands up at this point, and puts a hand each on you and Satoru’s shoulders.

“Mom. Dad. You guys - you guys. You’re awesome. I love you both, Mom you are so badass and scary and you give the best cuddles and shit! You made a baby a while ago and then like? You can make flowers kill people? That’s so awesome. Dad you’re like, an idol, you’re so cool and it’s so fun that you have so many eyes, you’re like a spider! And I like your fancy hair.” He says, before throwing his arms around you both and hugging you tight into him.

Who the fuck was this kid?

You pet his head and thank him, and Satoru says that you both love him too - and that he also likes his fancy hair as he desperately tries not to laugh.

You notice Yuuji is deep in thought.

“You okay, Yuu?” You ask.

He looks at you, the most contemplative look you’ve ever seen on anyone.

“Is a gingerbread man made of house? Or is a gingerbread house made of flesh?” He asks, eyes wide with realisation.

You and your husband sit on the bed, megumi curling back up in Yuuji’s lap as Maki and Toge continue cackling over videos of dumb animals.

You settle in, Satoru’s arm around you.

There’s no way in hell you’re missing this show.

#submission #jjk #jjk x reader #gojo satoru #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #anime #family formations extras #dad!gojo

[hunieday]

Isumi Haruka Rabbitube Mini - Rabbit Chat

Please note that I am not a professional translator and I'm only doing this to share the side materials to those who cannot access them, if you notice any mistakes please let me know nicely. Enjoy!

Isumi Haruka: Thanks for your hard work. do you have free time rn? (1)

Isumi Haruka: Right now*?

Momo: I do have time rn

Momo: Right now*! ;P

Izumi Mitsuki: Same, I’m free rn

Izumi Mitsuki: Right now*! 😆

Isumi Haruka: Sorry, I accidentally sent the predicted text...

Momo: Don't worry about it at all! I thought maybe Harukacchi felt comfortable with us, so I was actually happy 🥺

Izumi Mitsuki: Me too! I felt like I was talking to Tamaki, feel free to be casual! 😆👍

Isumi Haruka: As if I were talking to Yotsuba!? lol

Isumi Haruka: No, that would be dangerous,  we always talk about who's gonna treat the other 💦

Momo: Sounds fun~~~~~~ I wanna go back to high school and play rock-paper-scissors to decide who buys juice at the store ‼‼😭.

Izumi Mitsuki: I know right! Then go buy sweet red-bean soup and play tricks on each other! 🤩

Isumi Haruka: Sounds like you guys were really enjoying your time

Isumi Haruka: Um, onto the main question! Please let me conduct a survey on what would be good for next week's Rabbimini after-party!

Isumi Haruka:

1. visiting a ramen shop 

2. Panda-man taste testing

3- Divination

4- All-you-can-eat dim sum brunch

Izumi Mitsuki: Ooh~~!!

Izumi Mitsuki: You really thought this through! Thanks 😭 well, we still haven’t decided on anything yet!

Momo: Let's go to aaaall of them!! your big brother here will treat you guys to everything 😭‼

Isumi Haruka: Nah if we go to all of them our stomachs will be too bloated lol

Isumi Haruka: I wanted to do something for you two since you guys took me out for yakiniku after the shoot

Momo:Isn’t he so admirable? ol’ friend Mitsuki-san…

Izumi Mitsuki: What a lovable boy, ol’ friend Momo-san… (2)

Isumi Haruka: You're becoming grandpas lol

Momo:

Izumi Mitsuki: 

Izumi Mitsuki: Alright then, do you have any recommendations among these choices?

Isumi Haruka: Erm...

Isumi Haruka: Panda-man. They look cute and I think it’d be fun

Isumi Haruka: I know it’s somewhat childish but...

Momo: It’s fine, I wanna chomp chomp it!! It's cute like Momo-chan, right!? 😍💕

Izumi Mitsuki: I might have seen it featured on TV! 😆 They have different panda faces on them right?

Isumi Haruka: 😉🥺😤

Isumi Haruka: ↑ Yeah! Like these

Isumi Haruka: People take pics of themselves making the same face as Panda man as a trend

Momo: Oh no we totally have to do a photoshoot too 🫰

Izumi Mitsuki: Now you sound like a gyaru lol

Momo: But it's been a while, so teach us how to take photos 🥺 waaggghhh

Isumi Haruka: I'll definitely teach you everything 🫰

Izumi Mitsuki: By the way, there's a photo of the three of you in our fridge! The one you, Iori and Tamaki took together 😆.

Isumi Haruka: Huh!? The fridge!?

Isumi Haruka: At the IDOLiSH7 dorm!?

Izumi Mitsuki: That's right! lolol you took it to commemorate getting a large king pudding stuffed plushie right?

Momo: Wait a minute!! You’re telling me you can see that incredibly cute picture if you go to the IDOLiSH7 dorm ⁉

Izumi Mitsuki: You sure can 👍

Momo: We'll bring a hot pot set and come visit you.

Izumi Mitsuki: We'll be waiting 👍

Isumi Haruka: Please stop, it's embarrassing lololol

Isumi Haruka: But I wonder if Izumi got mad when you stuck it there?

Isumi Haruka: Ah, I mean the little brother! Iori-kun

Izumi Mitsuki: It's confusing since we're both Izumi! 😂 

Izumi Mitsuki: He was a bit nervous about it, but Tamaki told us that you three worked really hard together to get that stuffed plushie, so he was really happy and wanted to stick it everywhere!

Izumi Mitsuki: He couldn't help but forgive him when he heard that ✨

Momo: That's so precious... I'll bring beer in bulk on top of that hot pot set.

Izumi Mitsuki: Thank you!? lololol

Isumi Haruka:

Isumi Haruka: 

Momo: Haruka sounds embarrassed! so cute (*σ･ω･｡)σ

Izumi Mitsuki: This is youth :pudding cheer:

Isumi Haruka: I'm not embarrassed!!!

Momo: What other poses do you usually strike? (*σ･ω･｡)σ

Isumi Haruka: Well, since Izumi doesn't pose so much, Yotsuba and I go extra to make it more exciting, or something...?

Izumi Mitsuki: more exciting lolol thank you!!

Iori smiles when he looks at the picture in the fridge, so I’m truly happy!

Isumi Haruka: Is that so

Isumi Haruka: Yotsuba said he's gonna be fine, but there were times when I wondered if I was pushing him too hard. I'm glad!

Momo: Mitsuki,,,,, I think I'm going to cry,,,,,,

Izumi Mitsuki: Me too,,,,, the big bro in me is so happy,,,,,

Isumi Haruka: p-please don't cry!!

Momo: 

Isumi Haruka: I wanna take a picture with a pose that only three people can pull off! What do you think 😳

Izumi Mitsuki: Sounds good! I think we should pose like we did in Rabbimini, right?

Isumi Haruka: Maybe we could clasp our hands together in front of our chests and strike a kung fu pose? Like what we did at the start of Rabbimini! 🙏

Izumi Mitsuki: That's a good idea! I practiced a lot while watching videos! 😆

Momo: You could doodle something cute like ramen, that’d be adorable!! 😆💕

Isumi Haruka: I'll draw a panda too 🐼

Momo: That's the best!! What will you draw, Mitsuki!?

Izumi Mitsuki: Uh, something related to Rabbimini !? let me think

Izumi Mitsuki: A colander,,,?

Momo: a colander lololololololololol

Isumi Haruka: lolololololol

Izumi Mitsuki: I'll practice drawing it lololol

Momo: looking forward to seeing the result of your practice lolol

Momo: Momo-chan and Mitsuki are gonna drive and pick you up from school on the day of the shoot! ✨

Izumi Mitsuki: I’ll rabbitchat you when we get there! 😆

Isumi Haruka: You were serious about that?!?!

Isumi Haruka: I'm happy, but I think Izumi and Yotsuba will get jealous lol 🫣 🫣

Momo: I was serious about it, Harukacchi…!!

Izumi Mitsuki: They’ll definitely be jealous, so I’m gonna spoil them by making their favorite things before and after the outing 🥹 I'm sure both of them will understand that it’s to celebrate your hard work at the shooting!

Isumi Harukai: Um, just to be clear, please be careful not to stand out! Yotsuba told me that when Momo-san came the other day, the whole school was talking about it!

Momo: no way...!! I'm gonna park a little further away from the school so I won’t bother anyone.

Izumi Mitsuki: Let's put on a disguise so that we don't stand out!

Momo: 

Izumi Mitsuki: 

Isumi Haruka: I'm getting really excited for some reason..!

Momo: I'm glad! After the shoot, let's go to the arcade together when we’re less busy >u< I like that one game! The one where you kill zombies!

Isumi Haruka: Isn’t it great?

Isumi Haruka: I compete with Yotsuba in the high score board, so I'm good at it!

Momo: Huh that’s cool!! Haruka can really do anything >u<

Isumi Haruka: Hehehe

Mitsuki-san, is there something you’d like to do if we go together?

Izumi Mitsuki: Ah! Then, the crane game! I know a guy who’s gonna be over the moon if he gets a Kokona-chan or something 😆 you'll have to teach me all the tricks!

Isumi Haruka: Yes!! I'll take care of it 🙌

Momo: Then Mitsuki, give me tips on how to draw a colander ;P✨

Izumi Mitsuki: I don’t think there are any tricks to that lololol i’ll think about it lolol

Isumi Haruka: lolololol

In the original text, Haruka sends a casual text to the group chat, then corrects his tone by adding “ですか” (desu ka) in a separate message. Momo and mitsuki tease him about it by sending casual messages then following it up with “ですか”. This kind of polite speech doesn’t exist in English, so this was the closest way to convey the OG conversation’s tone

This is another joke that can’t be properly conveyed in English without further context, Momo and Mitsuki start adding “や” (ya) at the end of their messages which is a form of speech under a style called “yakuwarigo”, used in manga/anime (amongst other forms of media) to indicate age. The “ya” in this case is added to elderly characters’ speech, hence why I chose to add the “ol’ man” so that Haruka’s comment makes sense.

#idolish7 #i7 #idolish7 translation #isumi haruka #sunohara momose #momo re:vale #izumi mitsuki #rabbitube mini #rabbitchat

[blueskrugs]

sleeping with someone | Nick Blankenburg

I used parts of this fic to cope with the fact that I graduate in a few days. pay no mind to the existential crisis. I think I also listened to too much of stick season while writing this

this one got away from me a teeny, tiny bit. i promise all 14,000 words are worth it. 

length: 14.2k words

Nick Blankenburg breaks up with Mikayla Williams three weeks after he gets back to Michigan after Worlds. She doesn’t see it coming until Nick’s standing in front of her and saying, “I don’t think this is going to work out.”

Mikayla blinks at him. Nick looks determined, the same stubborn look that she’s grown to love on his face. 

“Sorry, what?”

“I don’t think long-distance is going to work anymore, Mikkie.”

They’d barely had a chance to do long-distance at all. It had only been a few weeks between Michigan crashing out of the Frozen Four, then Nick signing a contract with Columbus and finishing out the season there, before being whisked off to Worlds. She thought it had been going fine—they texted often and Nick called when their schedules lined up enough to allow for it. Nick clearly didn’t think the same thing. He’s still looking at Mikayla with that stubborn set to his mouth, waiting for her to respond. She’s not sure what she’s supposed to say next. 

“You’re really breaking up with me? Just like that?” They’d been together almost three years. They’d started to talk about their plans for the future. 

Nick shrugs. “I’m going to be getting a new contract this summer, probably, and I really want to be able to experience the NHL fully, y’know?”

So that’s how it is. Mikayla lets out a humorless laugh. “You’re saying that you want to sleep around without the guilt of a girlfriend back home.” Nick blushes, but refuses to back down. “Have a good life, Blankenburg.”

She pushes past him, unlocks her apartment door at last. She’s glad Nick at least waited to dump her until after they’d finished brunch, after he had walked her back home. Nick’s still standing by her door with his hands in his pockets when the door slams behind Mikayla.

Mikayla wishes she could say she moves on easily after that. She’s too angry to feel broken-hearted over it, at first. She collects all of Nick’s clothes that she’s pilfered over the years: sweatshirts and T-shirts and one extremely comfortable pair of sweatpants she’s actually pretty sad to give up. She shoves it all in a box and leaves it by her front door for another week. 

She makes a detour to Washington on her way back home to Saginaw for the summer, drops the box off on the Blankenburgs’ porch after she knows Nick’s just had knee surgery and can’t come out and talk to her. 

After that, she tries not to think about it. 

This is the first summer Mikayla has been single since she started college, and she’ll be damned if she lets moping about Nick ruin it. There will be time for that later. 

So Mikayla drives up to the Bay and tans on the beach with her friends, she spends time on Haithco Lake, and she goes out to the same bars as everyone else in her age in Saginaw. She deflects questions that her friends from high school ask about Nick—“We’re taking a break,” she says, drunk in the back of the bar, getting sunburned in a kayak on Haithco. “I’m fine,” she tells her mom, getting home late, stumbling over the sandals she’s just kicked off by the front door.

It’s her best friend who sees through her first, only a few weeks into the summer. 

“What?” Mikayla asks flatly, popping another grape into her mouth as she watches Jake watch her, a serious look on his face that she can’t read. 

“You’re really okay with Nick dumping you like that?” he asks. “Everyone thought you two would get married in a few more years.”

Mikayla forces herself to shrug. She’d been one of those people who thought she and Nick were going to get married, too. “We just grew out of each other I guess. Nick wanted to move on.”

Move on in life, move on from her. 

Mikayla surveys Jake back. They’d been inseparable themselves since middle school. A lot of people had thought they’d be the ones to fall in love and get married, until Mikayla stayed in Michigan for college and Jake had fucked off to Mississippi State to play baseball. All they had these days was the summer. 

“Things change, shit happens,” she adds. 

Jake doesn’t look impressed by her flippancy. “What really happened?” he asks.

Mikayla’s first single summer is also the first summer she’s turned up without Nick in tow in years. People noticed faster than she would have liked. She’d been trying her hardest to run away from the truth, but she’s always known it would catch up to her eventually. 

She forces another shrug. Jake’s still looking at her, too-serious for the sunny summer day, so she doesn’t think she’s coming off as casual as she wants to be. 

“Told me he wanted to ‘experience the NHL fully,’ whatever the fuck that means,” she says after she lets the silence drag on too long. She bites down on another grape, the satisfying crunch of it soothing her flaring temper. She barrels on, “He decided he wanted to be able to fuck other girls, that I wasn’t enough anymore, I don’t know. I guess it’s better than just cheating on me.”

Jake stares at her. “That’s shitty,” he says. He shoves his sunglasses to the top of his head. “You know what you have to do, right?” he asks eagerly.

“Spend the summer getting drunk and then focus on graduating?” Mikayla asks. She doesn’t like the mischievous glint in Jake’s eyes.

Jake scoffs. “You’re so boring. No, if Nick’s going to fuck around, what’s stopping you? Hot girl summer it up, baby! There’s nothing holding you back!”

Mikayla bursts out laughing. “Please never say hot girl summer around me again.” She throws a grape at Jake, considering his words; he flails, trying desperately to catch it in his mouth and narrowly avoiding toppling out of his chair. “Who exactly am I supposed to fuck around with?” she asks. Jake straightens up and shoots her a maniacal grin. She holds up a hand. “Not that I’m considering it, just—“ 

Saginaw isn’t a small town, but it functions enough like one. Everyone they went to high school with still runs in the same circles, the same friend groups coming together at parties when everyone flocks home for the summer. They’re not close enough to the Bay to garner a real tourist presence. If Mikayla were to sleep with anyone in Saginaw, everyone and their mother would know within a week. Sleeping around is way, way out of the picture. 

Jake falls silent. Mikayla thinks he’s going to drop it, until he says, “I’m single.”

“No, what? I’m not sleeping with my best friend,” Mikayla protests. Jake knows her well enough to tell that the protest is half-hearted, judging by the raised eyebrows he points at her. 

Jake doesn’t push. He’s smirking, though, waiting Mikayla out. 

Jake had been Mikayla’s first kiss, tucked away in a hidden corner at one of Jake’s baseball tournaments their sophomore year of high school. They’d never really entertained the idea of going any further than that, no matter what everyone else thought they would do. 

Jake’s still the only guy Mikayla’s ever kissed, other than Nick. Maybe he’s onto something with the hot girl summer idea. 

“I don’t want another relationship,” Mikayla warns. 

Jake holds his hands up in surrender. “Strictly friends with bennies,” Jake promises. “No catching feelings allowed.” He reaches to tug at Mikayla. She doesn’t move much, sweaty skin sticking to her lounger. “God, come over here already.”

Mikayla doesn’t even protest Jake’s weird vocabulary as she unsticks herself and clambers onto his lap. They’re on the back deck of her parents’ house, in the middle of the day. Anyone can see Mikayla in a bikini and Jake in just shorts. She should probably care, but she can’t muster up the energy for it as she settles her hands on Jake’s shoulders. 

It’s different than it ever was with Nick. Where Nick’s short and broad, Jake’s tall and lanky. She can still feel the muscles in his shoulders bunch as he shifts beneath her, hands carefully resting on the outside of her thighs. 

“Kay, you think too much,” Jake comments, watching her face. 

Kay.  Nick never called her that. Only her family and Jake have ever called her Kay. “Shut up,” Mikayla says, refusing to dwell on that.

“Make me,” Jake taunts. This close, Mikayla can see his eyes underneath his sunglasses, lit up with amusement.

Mikayla leans forward and kisses him. Jake makes a surprised noise into her mouth. It’s not like it was when they were 16, awkward and fumbling and so unsure of themselves. They’re both older now, more experienced—even if Mikayla doesn’t want to think about just how many girls Jake has slept with now that they’re not attached at the hip anymore. 

She lets herself get lost in it, until Jake slides his hands up her thighs to her hips and pushes her away. He’s red all the way up to the tips of his ears, and Mikayla doesn’t think it’s sunburn.

“Not that I didn’t like that,” he pants, grip tight on Mikayla to keep her from squirming. “But we are still outside.”

Mikayla thinks they should change that, so she climbs out of Jake’s lap and gets to her feet. She offers a hand to Jake, who blinks up at her for a moment, before lacing their fingers together and letting himself be pulled to his feet. 

Mikayla spends most of the summer tumbling into bed with Jake. They’re probably not as subtle about it as they could be, but Mikayla thinks she’s overdue for a summer fling. She ignores the knowing smiles and raised eyebrows their other friends send their way when they’re pressed close in the dark of the bar, when they leave a party together.

It takes her weeks to stop comparing Jake to Nick, the way he touches her, the way his lips feel against her skin. Until she no longer has to choke back Nick’s name. She wakes up one morning to Jake still in her bed, his arm draped around her waist. Mikayla has to blink a few times when she rolls over and realizes that it’s Jake next to her, not Nick.

Mikayla dreams of Nick, dreams of that first summer together, when she got to bring him home for the first time. The first time she realized she was falling in love. 

Nick fidgets the entire hour and a half drive from his house to Saginaw. He reaches to change the song that’s just started, but Mikayla slaps his hand away. 

“No complaining about my playlist,” she says.

“I’m not complaining,” Nick complains. “I just didn’t want to listen to that song.” 

‘That song’ in question is a Taylor Swift song. Mikayla turns the volume up. Nick sighs, but Mikayla can see him smiling at her from the corner of her eye.

Nick had insisted that he could make the drive up to Saginaw by himself. Mikayla didn’t need to be driving three hours round-trip just to pick him up, he’d argued, but Mikayla had barely left her house since Michigan had sent all of the students home in March. Driving three hours round-trip was as close to an adventure as she was going to get this summer. Besides, it gives them a little bit of time to themselves after not seeing each other for months before being under constant supervision by Mikayla’s parents.

Nick’s back to fidgeting the passenger seat. 

“Would you quit that?” Mikayla says. Nick stops picking at his fingernails. “Everyone is going to love you.” Nick’s cute and charming and polite, a good Michigan boy through and through. Mikayla’s pretty sure there’s a good chance her family ends up liking Nick more than they like her, actually. 

When Mikayla pulls into the driveway, her dog is the first one out the front door, closely followed by her mom. She wraps Mikayla in a hug as soon as she’s out of her car.

“Geez, I was barely gone for three hours,” Mikayla says, but hugs her mom back just as tightly. 

Her mom moves on to Nick after releasing Mikayla. He meets Mikayla’s eyes over her mom’s shoulder, looking a little startled. Mikayla just laughs.

“Oh, Kay, Grandma and Grandpa are coming over for dinner tomorrow,” her mom says. “They want to be able to meet Nick, too.” 

Mikayla’s grandma had decided she loved Nick the moment she found out they shared a birthday. Mikayla’s not too worried about what they’re going to think of him once they finally meet him.

Nick’s casting a confused look around as he follows Mikayla into the house. 

“I hope the pullout is comfortable enough for you, Nick,” her mom is saying. The spare sheets and blanket are all folded on the arm of the couch. “But it was either the pullout or a blow-up mattress in the office upstairs.”

Mikayla has slept on that blow-up mattress before. It tends to deflate in the middle of the night. “You’re better off on the pullout,” Mikayla whispers to him. 

“Kay, will you bring in some extra drinks from the garage fridge? Dinner will be ready soon.” 

Mikayla does as she’s told, grabbing a few sodas and beers. She cracks open a can of hard seltzer she’d grabbed for herself and offers one to Nick. He raises an eyebrow at Mikayla’s drink choice—she’s not quite 20 yet, but she’s been drinking since high school—and takes a soda for himself. He’s making a face Mikayla can’t read as he listens to her mom go on and on about how much they’ve been looking forward to having Nick visit.

“Kay’s done nothing but talk about you since the fall,” she’s saying. Mikayla blushes as Nick shoots her an amused look.

“Why does everyone call you Kay?” Nick asks the next night, after her grandparents have left. It’s getting late, and Nick���s voice is pitched low, out on the deck as fireflies flicker around them.

“Hm? Oh, everyone in my family has always called me that.” 

“But everyone at school calls you Mikayla or Mikkie,” Nick says. Except for Nolan Moyle, who decided that “Nick and Mik” was hilarious when they first started dating.

Mikayla shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess Kay is just supposed to be a family thing.” It’s hard to see in the dark, but Mikayla can tell Nick’s eyebrows are creased. “I’m named after my Grandma. Her name is Katherine, but everyone has always called her Kay. My mom is her only daughter and wanted me to keep the name without actually naming me Katherine. She kinda took the nickname Kay and worked backwards until she settled on Mikayla.”

Mikayla still remembers when she started school and never responded to her full name because she had only ever been called Kay. It had worried her teachers for months. 

“So if I started calling you Kay…” Nick says thoughtfully. 

“Nope, family only,” Mikayla says firmly. Plus her best friend, but they’ve been friends so long he’s practically a part of the family anyway. It’s too early to be thinking things like that with Nick. 

“Guess I’ll just have to become a part of the family,” Nick jokes.

Jake kisses Mikayla awake before Nick can kiss her in her dream. She stretches and rolls over in Jake’s bed, warm in the late afternoon sunlight slanting through his blinds. 

“Your mom texted,” Jake says. “She wants you home for dinner.” 

Mikayla will need a shower before she can go home, wash off the sunscreen, the feeling of Jake’s hands on her skin. She rolls back over and burrows into one of Jake’s pillows. “Five more minutes.”

It’s not moving on, but it helps. The summer passes in a haze of sunshine and sex. Mikayla blinks and it’s August, and they’re heading their separate ways again: Jake off to Mississippi, Mikayla packing her car for Ann Arbor.

Jake kisses her goodbye the night before he leaves. Mikayla has to stop herself from clinging to him as he pulls away, beg him not to go. It feels like they’re 18 and leaving each other for the first time, unsure how to live without being by each other’s sides. No catching feelings, Jake had told her. 

“Don’t forget to have some fun this semester, okay?” Jake says now. 

Mikayla has a feeling he’s talking about more than her tendency to care more about hiding from the world in her apartment than hanging out with friends. Though, now that she thinks about it, most of her friends were on the hockey team, a by-product of dating Nick for so long. She’s not sure she’ll be spending much time around them these days. 

“I’ll try,” Mikayla says.

It’s easy enough to settle back into life in Ann Arbor. Mikayla goes to her classes and meets up with her non-hockey friends. They mercifully don’t ask any questions about the breakup. She doesn’t hear from any of the boys from the hockey team, and she tries to convince herself it doesn’t hurt. They were always Nick’s friends first. She was just the captain’s girlfriend. 

The team announces Nolan Moyle as the new captain a few weeks after summer ends. Mikayla stares at the picture on Instagram—Jacob, Luke and Keaton with their shiny new letters and, in the middle of it all, Nolan. She’s known Nolan since she was a freshman, and he was just Nick’s obnoxious best friend. She usually spends the summer idly Snapchatting Moyle photos of her mixed drinks and sunburns, but she hasn’t spoken to him in months. 

She can’t believe she actually misses his loud mouth.

She hesitates before pulling up their text thread, but sends off a quick “congrats on the C!” message before she can think better of it. 

Nolan texts back almost immediately, a string of all the blue and yellow emojis, followed by a more genuine thanks. 

Mikayla expects that to be the end of it—there’s no reason for the conversation to continue, and no reason to believe Nolan is missing her friendship as much as she’s missing his. 

Except Moyle FaceTimes Mikayla later that afternoon, while she’s doing homework. She answers it to a terrible angle of Nolan’s face, mostly nose and that awful mustache he insists on. It looks like he’s walking out of Yost after practice. 

“Have you eaten dinner yet?” Nolan asks without preamble.

“Uh, no?” Mikayla checks the time in the corner of her screen. She should probably start cooking soon, though.

“I’m bringing pizza over,” Nolan announces. 

Mikayla hears someone yelling to Nolan off-camera, and he turns to talk to whoever it is. While he’s distracted, the phone jostles until Mikayla is looking directly at the ceiling. The phone shifts again, except this time it’s someone stealing Moyle’s phone and appearing in frame. It’s Truss, and Mikayla finds herself smiling. 

“Hi, Mikkie,” Jacob says. He opens his mouth to say something else, but Nolan wraps him in a headlock before he can get anything out. 

The chaos of it relaxes Mikayla. She’d gotten used to the noise and antics of the hockey team after dating Nick for three years. Her life has been too quiet without them.

“Hey, you’re still coming to games this season, right?” Nolan asks, still grappling with Truss for his phone.

Mikayla had actually planned on avoiding Yost at all costs this year.  

“Probably not?” It would feel weird, Mikayla thinks, to be cheering on all of her other friends at Yost without Nick being there, too. To know so many people out on the ice but not be able to talk to them without feeling like something—someone—is missing. 

Jacob and Nolan stop fighting long enough to gape at Mikayla. Their matching expressions of disbelief are enough to make her laugh. 

“Why not?” Truss asks, at the same time Nolan says, “What, do you not like us anymore?”

Mikayla giggles again, a little more comfortable this time, and shrugs. “I don’t know, I guess I just wasn’t sure I’d want to after Nick dumped me.” 

“That’s stupid, you have to come,” Nolan says. Mikayla knows him well enough to know that he will do everything he can to make sure Mikayla is at every game. “What do you want on your pizza?” Nolan asks, switching topics so fast it nearly gives Mikayla whiplash. 

She was almost hoping Nolan had forgotten he’d talked about pizza. 

“Pepperoni,” she says.

Nolan makes a face. “You always want pepperoni,” he complains. “Whatever, I’ll be over in like, half an hour.” 

He hangs up abruptly. Mikayla blinks at her phone for a moment, bewildered, before going back to her homework. 

Someone’s banging on Mikayla’s door. She doesn’t have to check the peephole to know that it’s Nolan. She throws the door open to Moyle’s grinning face.

“Sup, Mikkie,” he says, shouldering his way past Mikayla and into her apartment. He throws the pizza box down and pulls out the second chair at Mikayla’s little kitchen table. 

“Making yourself right at home, huh?” Mikayla asks. She hands Nolan a plate and settles into the chair across from him. Nolan has a habit of taking up too much space in every room he is in, loud and brash and comfortable. Mikayla had hated that about him when she had first met him, but she has been missing it more than she’d care to admit. 

Nolan grins at her. “Like I never left, baby.”

Mikayla snags another slice of pizza and watches Nolan across the table. It’s not too different from casual dinners shared with Nick last year, after she’d moved into her first apartment. Not too different from another September night after Nick had been named captain last season.

It’s not a surprise, exactly, when Nick calls Mikayla to tell her that the team has offered him the C for his senior season. He’d known for a while, had walked away from a deal with Colorado in part because of the chance to be captain. Mikayla still screams into the phone with excitement, covering Nick’s chuckle on the other end. 

Nick appears at Mikayla’s door later that evening with takeout for dinner. He has a few seconds to grin at Mikayla before she’s launching herself at him.

“Whoa, hang on,” Nick says, struggling to catch Mikayla and not drop their food. 

Mikayla keeps her arms looped around Nick’s neck as they shuffle awkwardly into her apartment. Nick carefully sets the bag of food down on Mikayla’s kitchen table. She does her best to jump up into Nick’s arms, and he helps, sliding his hands to the backs of her thighs, hitching her up higher.

“Hi there,” Nick says, grinning so widely his eyes crinkle. 

Mikayla kisses him fiercely, cupping his face in her hands. She pulls away just enough to say, “I’m so proud of you, Nick.”

And she really is. Nick’s come so far in his years at Michigan, from walk-on to captain, and Mikayla’s been lucky enough to be by his side for a lot of it. 

Nick kisses her again. They end up having to re-heat their dinner. 

Nolan nudges Mikayla with his foot, jolting her out of her thoughts.

“Whatcha thinking about over there?” he asks.

“Nothing,” Mikayla says quickly. It seems pitiful to say that she’s thinking about Nick. Nolan looks skeptical. “Just wondering who exactly thought it was a good idea to make you captain, actually.”

“Hey!” Nolan protests.

Moyle re-inserts himself into Mikayla’s life after that. He drags her out to the senior house to meet all the new freshmen—she spends a week and a half mixing up the Fantilli brothers— and he drags her out to Skeeps for more than one Thirsty Thursday in the early weeks of the semester before the hockey season starts properly.

He laughs so hard when Mikayla tells him about her semi-failed Hot Girl Summer that she’s pretty sure he’s going to snort beer out his nose. Mikayla frowns into her own drink, a Blue Hawaiian that Nolan had mocked, even though he kept stealing sips in between bites of fries. Mikayla kicks him as hard as she can underneath the table.

When Nolan has finished laughing, he says, “You planning a Hot Girl Fall?” He sweeps an arm out for dramatic effect. “Lot more options here in Ann Arbor.”

Mikayla shrugs. “I might.” Nolan already knows that Nick is the only guy she’s ever dated. “See what it’s all about, y’know?” See what was so appealing about the idea of casual hook-ups to Nick that he broke up with her to chase them.

Nolan’s smirk grows. “Wanna start tonight?” He casts a look over the crowded bar floor. “I’m sure I can find someone acceptable for you.”

“Acceptable by whose standards?” Mikayla asks, but she is ignored. She kicks Nolan under the table again to get his attention. He swears under his breath and kicks her back, but at least he’s looking at her. “Nolan, I don’t know how to flirt or any of that shit.”

Nolan grins at Mikayla. She recognizes that grin—it usually means Nolan’s up to no good.

“Trust me, baby, you’re pretty and smart. You won’t have any problems.”

Nolan scans Skeeps for another minute or two before he points to a guy around their age, standing at the bar and bobbing his head to the music the DJ is playing. Mikayla feels like she’s seen him around campus before.

“Bet you can get him to buy you a shot,” Nolan says.

Mikayla rolls her eyes, but drains the last of her drink and stands up. She makes her way over to the bar and slides in next to the guy Nolan had pointed out for her. He turns and smiles at Mikayla.

“Want to do a shot with me?” Mikayla blurts before she can think better of it.

The guy shrugs. “Why not?” He flags a bartender down and orders for them. It’s too loud to hear what he orders, but it goes down easy. “Wanna dance?” he asks next.

Mikayla never does catch his name, but they spend a while on the crowded dance floor. She doesn’t go home with him, either, but he buys her another drink before she has to hunt down Moyle again. 

“Did you have fun?” Nolan asks with a smirk when she collapses back into her seat across the table from him. 

“Shut up.”

That night starts a spiral for Mikayla—a semester full of hook-ups and one night stands. She feels like she’s hunting whatever it is about mindless, loveless sex that was so enticing to Nick. She wonders if she missed out on something when she was with Nick for most of her college years. Is it better? Is it more fun? She doesn’t know the answer, but it doesn’t stop her from sleeping with a new guy every week. 

There’s the frat boy who was enthusiastic but left beard burn in rather unsavory places.

Another frat guy who locks the door to a bathroom and pulls up her skirt at a party Mikayla isn’t even sure she belongs at, or how she even got through the door. 

The lacrosse player who reminds Mikayla a little too much of Nick, when he’s handing her water before the sweat on her body has even cooled.

The guy from one of her classes who she manages to do more with than just fuck—three whole dates—before he says he isn’t looking for anything serious. 

The boy from the bar who buys her a drink and makes out with her in the hallway, but doesn’t take her home. There’s a hickey on her collarbone she spends a week hiding, after that one. 

One who approaches her in the library on a rainy day and drives her home. He’s the first one Mikayla invites up to her apartment, and she’s not sure she ever really gets his name. (“He’s pretty brave for getting past the RBF,” Truss comments later, after Mikayla ditched him in the library. She throws her computer mouse at him.)

The boys—their names, their faces—start to blur together between late nights studying and early morning classes. Mikayla feels nothing, feels like she could scream. She puts her head down and does her homework. Focuses on getting good grades, focuses on the next time she’s getting laid. 

Nolan Moyle is by her side through it all, buying her drinks, playing wingman. He makes sure Mikayla starts coming to hockey games at Yost again, and he drags her out with the team after wins, until Mikayla slots back into friendships with the rest of the team, too. It’s kind of nice to have Nolan watching her back when they’re out at Skeeps, once Mikayla gets over the weirdness of her ex-boyfriend’s best friend helping her go out and hook-up. 

There’s a party at the senior house after finals end in December. It’s lowkey, as far as team parties go, just the guys and their girlfriends. Mikayla slips in late after spending far too long agonizing over what to wear, before realizing she was being ridiculous and throwing on jeans and a Michigan sweatshirt. There’s yelling coming from the living room, so Mikayla sneaks into the kitchen to grab a beer. 

“Stooping to our level?” Luke asks, suddenly appearing over her shoulder. Mikayla swears, nearly dropping her freshly opened can. He takes a sip of his own beer, smirking. Mikayla wonders how she always ends up with the bitchiest freshman as her favorites.

“I spend too much time around Nolan,” Mikayla says, taking a drink with a grimace. Beer never has been her favorite, though she’s unfortunately gotten a bit more used to it. She swats at the brim of Luke’s Yankees hat. “You’re not even twenty yet, who gave you a beer in the first place?”

Luke steps back, out of Mikayla’s reach. “Can’t play beer pong without beer,” he says, resettling his hat. That explains the yelling then. “Nolan wants you as his second, by the way,” Luke calls over his shoulder as he makes his way back out of the kitchen. 

Mikayla heaves a sigh, takes another fortifying drink of her still-sorta-disgusting beer, and follows Luke. Nolan whoops when Mikayla steps into the living room and makes his way over to throw his arm around Mikayla's shoulders. 

She lets herself be pulled into Nolan’s side as he yells, “Me and Mik are in next game!” 

Playing as Nolan’s second is familiar after months and months of it. They’ve actually turned into quite the force to be reckoned with. The evening passes quickly with Nolan by her side, plying her with more drinks as they beat more and more of his teammates at beer pong. A cheer goes up when they beat Holtzy and his girlfriend. Nolan wraps Mikayla in a hug so strong it lifts her off her feet. 

Mikayla turns to celebrate with Nick, too—except Nick’s not there. Of course Nick isn’t there; he moved on to bigger and better things. 

It’s getting late when Mikayla slips upstairs to find the bathroom and get some air. It’s hot downstairs, despite the December chill outside. There’s a window at the end of the hallway, and Mikayla throws it open, gasping in the cold air. Someone has knocked the screen out at some point, allowing Mikayla to lean halfway out the window. The street is quiet, but she can still hear the party downstairs. A tear slips down her cheek, and she lets it. 

That’s where Nolan finds her a few minutes later. “Hey, there you are,” he says lowly. “Been looking for you, Mik.” 

Mikayla tries to dry her face with her sweatshirt sleeve. She hopes it doesn’t fuck up her makeup. She turns to face Nolan. “Just needed a little time to cool off.”

Nolan’s looking at her with concern. He doesn’t even look tipsy, despite the fact that he’s had a drink in his hand all night. Mikayla, on the other hand, has probably had too much to drink, so much she’s dizzy with it.

“Everything okay?” Nolan asks.

“Yeah, I just—“ Mikayla cuts herself off. She can’t finish that thought, can’t admit that she misses Nick.

Later, Mikayla will blame the alcohol for what happens next. Blame the sleep deprivation and stress of finals week. Blame the heartbreak, finally catching up to her. 

Nolan stops her with a gentle hand on her shoulder when she tries to lean in. “Mikkie, what are you doing, babe?” he asks softly. They’re still in the upstairs hallway of the senior house. Any one of Nolan’s teammates could come upstairs and see them, see Mikayla pressed up against the captain in the dark. 

She tries to pull away, but Nolan slides his hand from her shoulder down to her wrist. His fingers wrap easily around her wrist, grip gentle but firm enough Mikayla can’t escape. “I— I don’t know, I shouldn’t— I’m sorry.” She tries to pull away again, but Nolan tightens his hold.

“Hey, c’mon,” he says. There’s a note of teasing in his voice, one that’s familiar. Mikayla has known Nolan Moyle for four years. Teasing she can handle. She dares to look up at him and his stupid mustache. He’s grinning at her. “You know we shouldn’t.” Mikayla nods. “That’s not fair to Nick, I couldn’t do that to him.”

That makes Mikayla bristle. She finally manages to yank her hand free and crosses her arms at Nolan. “I don’t give a fuck about Nick,” she insists. Honestly, she really hadn’t even been thinking about Nick—if only for a moment.

“I think we both know that’s not true,” Nolan says gently. Mikayla’s eyes burn suddenly; God, she must be more drunk than she thought. Nolan wraps her in a hug. “I think it’s time to get you to bed, huh, Mik?”

Mikayla sleeps in Nolan’s bed that night, wakes up hungover in one of his T-shirts. Moyle’s not in bed next to her like he was when they fell asleep, too close in Nolan’s too small bed. Mikayla rolls over and winces at the sunlight streaming through the open curtains. She really shouldn’t have had so much to drink at the party; she’s supposed to be driving back home for break later today. 

Mikayla’s debating whether she can get up and sneak out before Nolan returns from wherever he’s disappeared to when the bedroom door creaks open. Nolan pokes his head in, as if this isn’t literally his bedroom. 

He grins when he sees that Mikayla’s awake and kicks the door open the rest of the way. He’s holding a coffee in each hand, one for himself and one for Mikayla. He throws himself onto the bed near Mikayla’s legs. 

“So,” Nolan starts. Mikayla pulls her legs to her chest and glares at Nolan. “We’re talking about last night.” 

In all the years Mikayla has known Nolan Moyle, he’s been chronically allergic to being serious, but he’s looking at her now without a trace of a smile on his face. “We don’t have to,” Mikayla says, but she takes the iced coffee Nolan is still holding out to her.

“I don’t know how you drink that stuff in the winter,” he comments blithely before continuing. “It’s not that I don’t want to sleep with you, Miks, but you’re Nick’s girl.”

“Not Nick’s girl anymore,” Mikayla snaps. “He made that pretty clear.” Her eyes are burning with unshed tears again, and she gulps her coffee to cover it. 

Nolan’s undeterred. “He asks about you, you know.”

“Fuck off, no way he does.” For all that Nolan’s probably one of Mikayla’s best friends in Ann Arbor these days, he was Nick’s best friend first. The reminder stings a little. She’s not sure how she feels about the fact that they’ve apparently been talking about her, or that Nolan is just now telling her this. 

Nolan digs out his phone. “Has too.” He scrolls for a moment before starting to read out texts from Nick. They’re all about her: how she’s doing, if she’s still coming to games at Yost, and, horrifyingly, if she’s seeing anyone. Mikayla kicks at Nolan until he stops reading. He locks his phone and makes a face at Mikayla. “You’re lucky I haven’t told him that you’ve been sleeping your way through three different frats.”

Mikayla makes a face back. “That’s none of your fucking business,” she tells him. Nor is it exactly true, though she has maybe fucked more than one guy from more than one fraternity this semester. 

“Our Nick’s pining, babe,” Nolan insists.

“Someone needs to remind Nick that he broke up with me so he could fuck other girls without strings attached.”

Nolan scoffs. “We both know Nick’s not that kind of guy,” he says. 

Mikayla sighs. Nolan is right about that part. It’s part of the reason Mikayla had been so caught off guard by Nick ending things. Nick was the type of guy to settle down, not fuck around. 

“Have you been possessed by Truss or something?” Mikayla asks instead of unpacking everything Nolan’s revealed. “Since when can you hold a serious conversation for this long?” It’s almost unsettling.

“I’m worried about you,” Nolan says, once again undeterred by Mikayla trying to deflect. “Both of you actually.”

“I’m fine, I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Mikayla says. She picks at a loose thread on Nolan’s sheets to avoid meeting his eyes. 

“This isn’t like you, either, Mik,” Nolan says. 

Mikayla finally decides she’s done with this conversation. She throws off the blankets and clambers out of Nolan’s bed. She momentarily forgets that she’s wearing nothing but one of Nolan’s shirts until she sees him looking at her bare legs. He looks back up at her face, leering. Heartfelt conversation officially over. 

Mikayla doesn’t have anything to throw at his head. “Get out,” she says, trying not to laugh.

“This is my room,” Nolan points out. He’s holding back laughter, too. “Hey, are you going to the Wings game in January, like right after break ends?”

Mikayla blinks at him, thrown off by the sudden topic change. “Uh, no?” It’s been a while since she drove into Detroit to catch a game. It used to be a monthly date with Nick. 

“We should go,” Nolan says. There’s something falsely confident about his tone of voice.

Mikayla squints at him, suspicious. “Why, who are they playing?”

Nolan’s bravado falters for a moment, and that’s enough answer for Mikayla. 

“No, no way.”

“I think you two need to talk,” Nolan counters. 

“I don’t think there’s anything left to talk about.” She finds the jeans she was wearing last night and pulls them on. 

“KJ will want to see you,” Nolan says. There’s a smirk on his face now.

“That’s not fair.” Everyone knew that KJ had been one of her favorite freshmen. 

“Just…think about it, okay?” Nolan asks.

Mikayla heaves a sigh. “Fine, whatever.” 

Nolan grins and smacks a kiss to Mikayla’s temple. “Text me when you get home to Saginaw.” 

Mikayla’s only a little later leaving her apartment than she’d originally told her mom she’d leave, after rushing home from the senior house and frantically finishing packing for winter break. 

She thinks while she drives. It’s finally starting to hit her, just how much she’s been missing Nick. She’d been telling herself she was fine, hiding the heartbreak with hook-ups. If Nick can do it, so can I, she’d thought vindictively more than once. She had never slept with anybody before Nick; now she’s not sure she could count all the guys she’s slept with since summer. 

She thinks of all the times she went home with Nick over the holidays before they drove up to Saginaw to spend time with her family. Both of their moms had been absolutely thrilled when they’d started dating, so excited that they’d each found another Michigander to fall in love with. She thinks of the first time she’d come home with Nick, Christmas of her sophomore year, so nervous she’d felt like she was going to throw up in the passenger seat of Nick’s car.

“You’re going to be fine,” Nick says, reaching across the console to take Mikayla’s hand. She sends him an exasperated look. “Mikkie, seriously, everyone will love you.” Nick brings Mikayla’s hand to his mouth to press a kiss to the back of her hand. “C’mon, everyone’s waiting.”

“That’s the problem,” Mikayla grumbles, but she lets Nick let go of her hand and shoves open her car door. 

Nick insists on carrying both of their bags, which means Mikayla is left to push open the front door. She’s met with a wall of noise and warmth. It’s immediately comforting in a way she didn’t expect, reminds her of home and her own family. 

Nick drops Mikayla’s duffel bag on the floor next to her just as Nick’s mom rounds the corner. She rushes to Nick for a hug before turning on Mikayla and wrapping her in one too. 

“Everyone’s so excited to meet you, Mikayla,” Nick’s mom says. She turns to Nick. “Take those bags upstairs. Mikayla can have Katrina’s old room, shoo,” she says with a smile, flapping her hands at both of them. 

Mikayla trails after Nick as he dumps his own bag in his bedroom before stepping down the hall and dropping Mikayla’s bag at the foot of the bed in what must be Katrina’s room. He turns to Mikayla with a grin. 

“I told you it was going to be fine,” he says.

Mikayla doesn’t point out that they’ve only encountered Nick’s mom so far, which hardly even counts because she’s talked to Karin on phone calls with Nick countless times, just lets herself be reeled in for a quick kiss. They’re probably pushing their luck just being alone up here. Nick takes Mikayla’s hand in his and leads the way back downstairs.

It’s annoying when Nick’s right about things, which is unfortunately often. The days at the Blankenburgs’ house do turn out to be fine. More than fine, actually. Everyone’s nice, if a bit overwhelming. Mikayla holds so many babies—young cousins and nieces and nephews—that she loses track of which baby belongs to whom. She wins several overly aggressive games of Spoons on Christmas Eve, much to Nick’s chagrin. Nick even sneaks into her room and squeezes next to her under the covers in the early blue dawn on Christmas morning, kissing her awake before pulling her close to doze back off. 

They’re definitely pushing their luck with that one, but Mikayla can’t bring herself to care, cozy and safe from the frosty world beyond the curtains. 

Mikayla blinks away the memory and pulls into her parents’ driveway. Her dog is waiting for her on the front lawn, holding her favorite toy and wiggling all over. Mikayla throws her door open and throws herself on the ground next to her dog, heedless of the frozen grass. They lay there, staring at the sky, until Mikayla’s fingers go numb and her mom is calling for her to come inside, while Mikayla thinks and thinks. 

Jake’s home for the holidays, too, and he appears to drag Mikayla out of bed a few days after she’d gotten home. 

“How’d you even get in here,” Mikayla complains into her pillow as Jake flops onto the bed next to her, half on top of her. The dog, who’d been sleeping on the floor next to Mikayla, decides she has to be included too and launches herself onto the bed.

“Your mom loves me,” Jake says. “C’mon, I’m bored, we should do something.”

There’s not much to do in Saginaw on any day, especially in the winter, but Mikayla elbows Jake until he rolls off her and she can get out of bed. They end up in Jake’s car, just driving around town with the music up loud. Jake only raises his eyebrows a little bit at the amount of Noah Kahan mixed in with Christmas songs on Mikayla’s playlist. 

It’s always easy to fall back into old habits with Jake, and they complain about professors and classes for a while, trading stories, even though they’ve been having weekly hours-long phone calls since they were freshmen. Jake had kept quiet about Mikayla’s dating life—or hook-up life—throughout the semester, but he doesn’t hesitate to be nosy now.

“Seeing anyone?” he asks at a stoplight, looking sidelong at Mikayla. 

Mikayla makes a face. “You know I’m not,” she says. She’d stopped sleeping around so much as the end of the semester approached, tired of the effort required for mostly mediocre lays. Tired as she started missing Nick more and more. 

“Really?” Jake asks. He almost actually sounds surprised. “No romance in one night stands?” 

They’re moving again, and Mikayla is briefly safe from Jake’s gaze. He knows how to read her face better than anyone, and Mikayla’s afraid of what might be showing now as she says, “Didn’t really have the heart for it.”

Jake’s quiet for a moment. Mikayla watches in slow motion as he comes to a stop at another red light before turning towards her again. He leans in before Mikayla can stop him, but she pulls away. There’s no hurt on Jake’s face, just confusion. No catching feelings, Mikayla thinks again. 

“There’s something else, though, isn’t there?” Jake asks. 

“Moyle says Nick’s still in love with me,” Mikayla says quietly. 

Jake laughs. “And why shouldn’t he be? I always thought he was an idiot for breaking up with you in the first place.” Mikayla takes a shaky breath, but Jake continues. “Any guy would be stupid to let you go, Kay.”

“Including you?” Mikayla whispers. Jake laughs. “Especially me. I should have locked that shit down in high school.” Mikayla can’t help but laugh, too. “I probably would have let you back then.” 

They’d talked about it a few times, on their backs in the backyard grass, staring up at the summer stars. Mikayla had never been serious about it, not really, but now she has to wonder if Jake had been serious. The talk about going to college together, moving to Detroit together. They’d been attached at the hip— “You can’t spell Jake without Kay,” Mikayla’s grandmother had joked more than once. 

“And now?” Jake asks. They’re still idling in front of Mikayla’s house. At some point, Jake shifted to holding Mikayla’s hand over the gearshift, gripping it tightly in his own. 

“What happened to ‘no catching feelings’?” Mikayla teases, and Jake cracks a grin. Mikayla heaves a sigh. “I think you know the answer here, Jakey.”

“I don’t want Nick to break your heart a second time,” Jake says fiercely.

“The Blue Jackets are coming to Detroit in January,” Mikayla says. “Nolan thinks I should at least talk to Nick.” 

“Since when do you listen to Moyle’s ideas?” Jake snorts.

“Since he got the C and grew up a little, God, I don’t know.” Jake does have a point. Agreeing with Nolan Moyle is dangerous, even if he has turned out to be a pretty good leader. Mikayla shakes their joined hands a little. “Hey, if Nick does break my heart again, you’re the first person I’ll run to.”

“Promise?” Jake asks. He’s grinning, easy with it. “That’s what best friends are for, right? Swearing to kill your ex and then helping you get drunk to forget about him?” 

Mikayla can’t help but laugh. “Something like that.” And before she can think better of it, she asks, “Can I do something stupid?”

Jake has barely said, “Of course,” when Mikayla leans across the console to kiss him one last time, her hands on either side of his face. Jake kisses back hard, leaving Mikayla breathless when she pulls away. “Hell of a goodbye, Kay,” Jake says. 

“I’ll see you later, Jakey,” Mikayla says, kicking open the passenger door and climbing out of Jake’s car. 

Mikayla cries on Christmas Eve. She’d had too much wine to drink with dinner, and she collapses into her bed as snowflakes drift past the window. It’s the first time she’s really let herself cry since Nick dumped that June day. She’d alternated between resolutely not thinking about him and going through life powered by a need for—revenge? vindication? She’s not sure she can put a word to it. 

It didn’t matter, anyway; Nick wasn’t around for Mikayla to hurt with her actions the same way Nick had hurt her. 

Mikayla wakes up with a headache and Nick’s contact open on her phone. 

Mikayla calls Nolan as soon as she’s back in Ann Arbor.

“You lied to me,” she says without preamble.

“What?” Nolan says. There’s commotion on his end of the line, which means he’s probably at Yost.

“Columbus is here this weekend, and you’re playing Ohio State.” There’s a text from KJ on Mikayla’s phone, asking if she’ll be at Yost on Friday night. It had come in while she was driving back to her apartment.  She hasn’t answered it. “You said you’d go to the Wings game with me when they were in town.”

“I did say that, didn’t I? In my defense, I didn’t realize they were coming in on a weekend.”

“KJ texted me,” she says. 

“Hm? Oh, yeah, someone said something about KJ and Nick coming out for their rings on Friday.”

Mikayla suddenly has a headache. Nick was never supposed to come back to Ann Arbor. Mikayla had been so proud of him when he first signed with Columbus, but he had deliberately left her and Ann Arbor in the rear view. Ann Arbor was hers now.

Nolan’s still talking. “—talk, you should still come to the game on Friday.” 

Mikayla can’t think of much worse than having to see Nick at Yost. “I’m not going to fucking talk to Nick about our breakup at a hockey game.” She’d rather not have a breakdown in front of the entire hockey team, thanks.

“Okay, so I bring him over to your apartment after the game.”

“Absolutely not,” Mikayla says. 

“Mik.”

“Nolan.” 

“You said you’d talk to him,” Nolan says. 

“I said I would think about talking to him,” Mikayla counters. She hears Nolan sigh loudly through the phone. “What the fuck am I even supposed to say? ‘Sorry to hear that wheeling girls isn’t satisfying like you’d hoped’? Or, ‘I’ve slept with so many guys this semester I’ve lost track, but I haven’t found one that makes me feel the way being with you did’?” Mikayla snaps her mouth shut. She’s said too much.

“Oh, Mik,” Nolan says. He’s not teasing, which would be preferable to the pity in his voice.

“Moyle, shut the fuck up,” Mikayla snaps.

“Mik, you need to talk to Nick,” Nolan says, ignoring her. “I don’t need to do anything,” Mikayla says. 

Nolan sighs again. “Fine, I can’t make you do anything, I guess.” With that, he hangs up.

Surprised, Mikayla stares at her phone. She’s not sure she has ever actually made Nolan mad like that before. 

Mikayla spends the week leading up to Friday thinking. Nolan hasn’t spoken to her since he hung up the phone, and Mikayla doesn’t dare seek him out. KJ texts Mikayla three more times, with increasing levels of urgency and annoyance as they all go unanswered. Mikayla’s not sure what there is to say. She can’t promise anything.

She’s half-sure she’s going to skip the game right up until she walks through the doors of Yost on Friday afternoon. It’s loud and as crowded as ever, but there’s an extra kind of excited energy in the air. Mikayla isn’t sure if it’s just the Ohio State rivalry, but she wonders if some of the buzz she feels is because everyone else is just as excited about Nick and KJ returning as she’s supposed to be.

Mikayla doesn’t see either of them as she settles into her seat in the student section. She slides her phone out of her pocket, finds all of her unread messages from KJ. don’t leave without saying hi to me after the game, she sends. She puts her phone back away without waiting to see if KJ reads it. 

The game itself isn’t pretty. Michigan gets outplayed, even though it’s tied after the first, but it’s 6-2 Ohio by the time they’re introducing KJ and Nick as the Score-O participants at second intermission. 

Nick looks good, unfortunately. He seems happy to be back on the ice at Yost, even briefly. Even KJ manages a smile as the crowd cheers for them. Mikayla thought she’d heard something about Nick breaking his ankle earlier in the season, but it doesn’t seem to bother him at all as he scores and runs across the ice to throw his stick into the crowd. Mikayla rolls her eyes. 

She’s standing in the concourse after the game when someone throws themselves at Mikayla from behind. She stumbles, but he wraps his arms around her shoulders before they both fall. KJ. Of course. She leans back into his chest, lets him rest his chin on top of her head. 

“Moyle said you weren’t coming,” KJ says. He doesn’t move his chin from Mikayla’s head as he talks, and Mikayla elbows him until he lets her go. 

“Yeah, well, you should never listen to Moyle,” Mikayla says. She tries to sound breezy, but she probably doesn’t succeed.

Kent gives her a flat look. Mikayla finally spots Nick, approaching from behind KJ. If Mikayla still had any intentions of ignoring him, it’s too late now. Nick sends her a tight smile as he steps up beside KJ. Kent looks back and forth between the two of them for a moment then sighs loudly.

“Figure your shit out, I’m tired of dealing with Nick,” he says to both of them. Mikayla crosses her arms and tries to glare at KJ. “I’m going outside, you two have ten minutes to talk.” He points at Mikayla. “We’re getting ice cream before we have to go back to Detroit.” 

Kent stalks off before Nick or Mikayla can get a word in, which leaves Mikayla alone in a hallway with her ex. She swears at KJ under her breath. She’s not sure, but she thinks she hears Nick let out a quiet laugh. 

“Hi,” Mikayla says. She wishes desperately for anyone to come save her, but no one comes. 

Nick drags the toe of his sneaker across the floor. “Hey, Mikkie,” he says softly. “I’ve been wanting to talk—”

“Good job at Score-O tonight,” Mikayla blurts, cutting him off. She winces. 

“Mikkie, c’mon,” Nick says, exasperated. “We need to talk.” “Do we, though?” Mikayla says. “I didn’t think there was any ambiguity left when you dumped me, so you could go off and fuck other girls.” 

Nick winces. It doesn’t make Mikayla feel any better. “It was—“ 

Mikayla cuts him off again. “Don’t you dare say ‘it was complicated,’” Mikayla warns. “I don’t think there’s anything complicated about you deciding I wasn’t enough after you made it to the show. There’s nothing left to talk about, Nick.”

Mikayla had spent months pretending that she hadn’t been hurt by Nick, but she was exhausted by it. The idea that the boy you fell in love with, who you thought you were going to marry, no longer wants you and will go out to find someone else, whether or not you’re still together, isn’t an easy one to accept. She’d covered up that hurt with alcohol and sex and schoolwork. It’s a lot more raw and real with Nick standing in front of her with the same resolute stare he’d had when he was breaking up with her.

“I miss you, Mikkie,” Nick says. His hands are shoved in the pockets of his jeans, his hair curling out from underneath his beanie. 

Mikayla almost believes him. She runs her hands through her hair. “Stop calling me that,” she says. “And don’t lie to me.”

“What, Mikkie? I’ve always called you that.”

“That was when we were dating.”

“And why do you think I’m lying?”

They’re talking over each other, voices rising in the small space. Yost is empty around them. 

“Why would you break up with me if you were just going to come crawling back a few months later?” Mikayla asks. She thinks of Nolan telling her that Nick spent the fall asking about her. “Why have you been asking Nolan about me?”

Nick sighs. “I just told you. I miss you. I knew you wouldn’t want to hear from me, so instead I got to listen to Nolan tell me stories of you moving on.”

Mikayla will have to kill Nolan for that later. “I wasn’t moving on, not really,” Mikayla admits. She pushes her hair away from her face again. “I was just doing everything I could to not think about you.”

“I was trying to protect you,” Nick says. “I was going to be so far away, and traveling all the time, and you were supposed to go on to grad school next fall. I didn’t want to hold you back, and I didn’t want to make a mistake and hurt you.” Nick laughs, but it isn’t a happy sound. “I think I just made both of us miserable.”

“I spent so much time thinking that I had to prove something, that if you could handle being stupid and sleeping around, so could I,” Mikayla says. 

At some point Nick has cautiously stepped closer to Mikayla. She leans back against the wall behind her, sagging with the sudden exhaustion of this conversation. She doesn’t know how long they’ve been standing here, how long KJ has been waiting outside without a coat for them to “figure their shit out.”

“Ask KJ, I was pretty bad at the whole casual hook-up thing,” Nick says.

Mikayla presses the heels of her hands to her eyes. She’d rather die than ask Kent for details of all of Nick’s hook-ups. 

“I tried to kiss Moyle before Christmas,” Mikayla blurts out.

Nick is quiet. Mikayla hesitantly moves her hands from her eyes to look at him. 

He’s looking at her, bewildered. Apparently that’s one thing about Mikayla’s Hot Girl Fall that Nolan didn’t tell Nick. 

Mikayla continues. “He stopped me, I was drunk and confused, and he’s my best friend, but he was your best friend first, then he told me that he couldn’t because I’m your girl, even though I’m definitely fucking not, and—“ Mikayla gasps for air. “I can’t keep doing this.” 

Nick steps even closer. He slowly, hesitantly, reaches for Mikayla. She lets herself be pulled in for a hug as she starts to cry. Nick rubs one of his hands in slow circles on Mikayla’s back underneath her sweatshirt, the way he used to when Mikayla was upset. 

“Hey, slow down, it’s okay,” he says. “Mikkie, it’s okay.” Nick holds Mikayla until her crying subsides and her breathing evens back out. He takes a step back, but doesn’t let go of Mikayla’s arms. “What happens now?” he asks. He hesitates, but says, “I think I’m still in love with you.”

Mikayla blinks at him. She was kissing her best friend just a few weeks ago. She was trying to sleep with Moyle just a week before that. Nick’s confession doesn’t exactly come as a surprise, but it doesn’t simplify anything.

“Nick, I don’t know,” she says. “I might still love you, too, but—” Nick’s face brightens— “I think I need some time.” Nick’s face falls again. 

“Why?” Nick argues. “We’ve had time, we both want this, I don’t get—” “What if I don’t want this?” Mikayla cuts in. “I don’t know what I want.” She doesn’t think she’s ever been so confused in her life.

Nick frowns at Mikayla. “But you just said—” 

“I know what I just said, just—” Mikayla switches arguments. “When was the last time you slept with another girl?”

Nick looks taken aback. “I don’t know, around New Year’s?”

Not even two weeks ago. 

“How am I supposed to believe you when you say you miss me while you’re still running around fucking other girls? That you’re serious? Maybe you just think you miss me because you just haven’t found the right girl?”

Nick doesn’t argue this time, face turning red. 

“What am I supposed to do if we get back together and you turn around and cheat on me? When you realize you were right in the first place, that the distance is too hard and that I might not actually be the one you want?” 

“When was the last time you slept with another guy?” Nick finally says. Mikayla feels like it should sting, but it’s a fair question. “What am I supposed to do here?”

“I haven’t slept with anyone since before finals,” Mikayla says. There was the failed move on Moyle, then one last kiss with Jake back in Saginaw. Those hardly count. Nick blinks at Mikayla. “I don’t know what to do, Nick, honestly. We could both stop sleeping with other people, for one thing.” 

“Done,” Nick says quickly.

Mikayla narrows her eyes at Nick, suspicious. “That’s it?” she asks. “All that drama to break up with me to sleep around, and you agree to stop, just like that?”

Nick looks sheepish for the first time. “I’m telling you, I was terrible at doing casual. I kept asking them all to stay the night and shit.” There’s a pause before Nick bursts out, “What are you so afraid of?”

“You, Nick!” Mikayla almost wants to laugh, but she also feels like she might cry again. “I think…” she says slowly, “that we both need to know that this is what we want. I don’t think I want to let this go so easy, but I don’t want to get hurt again, either.”

Nick looks sad when Mikayla meets his eyes again. “Okay, yeah, yeah,” he says. 

“I just want to be able to focus on my last semester, y’know?” Mikayla says.

Nick forces a smile. “Yeah, of course,” he says. “I’ll, uh, see you around, I guess?”

“Yeah, Nick, I’d like that.” It doesn’t feel like a lie when Mikayla says it.

Mikayla doesn’t know where Nick goes, but he doesn’t follow her outside, where she needs to find KJ. He’s leaning against the front doors of Yost, looking pissy and cold, even though it was his idea to go stand outside and wait for Mikayla without a coat. 

He slings an arm around her shoulders and falls into step beside her when he spots her. 

“You know, you could have made your point without standing out in the cold,” Mikayla points out. KJ is a cold line pressed against her left side. “You’re making me cold, now,” she complains. 

“I still want ice cream,” KJ says, instead of admitting he was wrong about something. Mikayla rolls her eyes. 

They end up at Blank Slate, another place she and Nick used to frequent on dates when the weather was warmer. She tries not to think about it as she follows KJ into the shop. 

KJ wastes no time ordering their brown butter cookie dough ice cream, but Mikayla spends so long debating that she’s half-worried KJ is going to order plain vanilla for her out of spite. Finally, Mikayla brings her scoop of vanilla caramel blondie over to where Kent claimed a table in the empty shop. He makes a face at her, but she’s immune to KJ’s bitchiness at this point.

“Nick’s been a mess,” KJ says without preamble.

Mikayla sighs. “Not you, too, KJ,” she says. “Please, I’ve heard enough from Nolan and Nick already.”

KJ points his plastic spoon at Mikayla. It’s probably supposed to be threatening. “No, I don’t think you have, actually. You didn’t have to watch him break his ankle, be miserable about it, then force himself to go out and pick up and be more miserable about it. Do you know how pathetic he was with that fucking scooter?”

Mikayla snorts into her ice cream. “It can’t have been that bad,” Mikayla protests. Though, if Nick was half as miserable as she had been and was pretending not to be, he was probably pretty miserable. 

KJ takes another bite of ice cream, says through it: “Oh, it was.” He swallows and leans across the table. “And then I text Moyle to tell him we need to fix it, only he tells me you’re out doing the same dumb shit as Nick.” 

He’s close enough that Mikayla can flick him between his judgmental eyebrows. He leans back again and takes a petulant bite of ice cream. 

“You and Moyle need to mind your own damn business,” Mikayla tells him. “We were both fine.”

Kent doesn’t even dignify that with a response, just raises one eyebrow. Mikayla wishes he were close enough to smack that disbelieving look off his face.

“We were fine!” Mikayla insists. It doesn’t sound any better the second time. 

“So did you fix your shit?” KJ asks.

Mikayla huffs. “What does that even mean?” She ignores Kent’s eye roll. “There’s nothing to fix.”

“Wait,” KJ says slowly. “Moyle and I Parent Trapped you two for nothing? You didn’t even get back together?”

“No, we didn’t, and—have you ever even seen The Parent Trap?” 

“That’s not the point,” KJ says, “I don’t get it. If you’re both miserable, why not get back together?” 

“Because what if it makes us more miserable? What if it’s not actually what we want? What if we just break up again?”

“Whoa,” Kent says. “Slow down.”

Mikayla’s almost out of ice cream. She looks sadly down at her empty cup. Kent holds his half-eaten ice cream out without a word, and she takes some with her spoon.

“And what if you end up happy?” Kent asks. 

And that’s the thing, isn’t it? Mikayla doesn’t know the last time she was really happy. Before Nick broke up with her, probably.

They finish their ice cream in silence. Kent hugs Mikayla tightly outside Blank Slate. There’s a car idling for him nearby, Nick and whatever members of the Blue Jackets media corps had to make the trip out to Ann Arbor waiting for KJ. 

“Fix your shit,” KJ says again, stepping away at last.

Mikayla rolls her eyes. “Which one of us is the freshman here?”

KJ doesn’t bother pointing out that he’s not a freshman anymore, or even a student at all, just climbs into the backseat of the car at the curb. Mikayla watches as they pull away, stays standing there long after the taillights have disappeared. 

Nick, to his credit—and a little bit to Mikayla’s dismay—doesn’t reach out. Mikayla finds herself half-dreading, half-hoping for a text that never comes. As the days after seeing Nick again stretch into weeks, Mikayla stops expecting to hear from him, tries to squash down the disappointment she feels. 

She throws herself into focusing for her final semester of college. She keeps her promise to Nick—no more sleeping around. She has no idea if he’s actually doing the same. There’s no time for it anyway, with a full class schedule and an internship and all the hockey games Moyle is still insisting she come to. 

Mikayla feels like she blinks, and suddenly it’s April. The hockey team is heading off to the Frozen Four, and Mikayla’s in her final weeks of college. It’s all a little surreal, and more than a little dizzying. 

“You’ll stay in touch, though, right?” she asks Nolan. 

Nolan laughs at her on a fuzzy FaceTime call from his hotel room in Tampa. “Mikkie, baby, you should know by now that you can’t get rid of me that easy.”

That is true. “I couldn’t even get rid of you after I stopped dating your best friend.” She has to laugh, too. “Do you know what you’re gonna do after the year is over?” Mikayla asks.

She vaguely sees Nolan shrug. “Nah, I’ll figure it out.” The conversation feels loaded now, despite Nolan’s light tone. “What about you? Ready for bigger and better things?”

Mikayla had big plans, once. She had picked out the graduate school program she wanted as a freshman, had spent the last four years working towards it. She had other plans, too; ones that included a white dress and a church wedding and Nick waiting at the end of the aisle. 

Grad school is still waiting for her. Mikayla has no idea if Nick is, too.

“I guess so,” Mikayla says at last. She doesn’t feel ready to be taking on the real world outside of school. Maybe it’s just delaying the inevitable, but she’s still glad to be able to push adulthood back a little further. 

“Hey, Mikkie,” Nolan says, still serious. Mikayla looks away from her computer to look properly at him. “Everything’s going to work out, you know.”

Nolan always has had a knack for reading Mikayla’s anxieties. “Promise?” she asks. It comes out watery.

“Promise.”

Michigan loses in the semis again. Mikayla watches as her friends pack up and leave, onto their own futures: Luke goes to Jersey, Portillo heads out to California, Mackie ends up in Charlotte. The end of hockey season is always a whirlwind. She remembers last year, when scouts coming to games turned into Nick signing with Columbus, missing graduation and living his dream in the NHL.

Mikayla’s own cap and gown hang off the back of her closet door. The end is coming for them all, whether or not Mikayla is ready for it. 

The end, when it comes, passes quietly. Mikayla passes her finals, walks in graduation. She packs up her apartment, all of the little bits of her life over the last four years, into boxes and shoves them all into the back of her car. Mikayla leaves Ann Arbor in the rearview mirror as she drives north to Saginaw for the summer.

Mikayla’s only been back in Saginaw a few weeks when she hears from Nick at last. The dog barks at the door once, before she switches to whole body wiggles—Mikayla knows who she’s going to see before she even heads to open the front door. 

Nick is standing awkwardly on the front porch, hands in his pockets, when Mikayla swings the door open. The dog squeezes past Mikayla to say hi to Nick, sitting squarely on one of his feet. 

“Traitor,” Mikayla says. To Nick, she says, “Hey.” 

Nick looks up from rubbing behind the dog’s ears to grin sheepishly at Mikayla. “Hey, uh—“ 

“What would you have done if I hadn’t been home?” Mikayla asks, teasing. 

Nick flushes. “I, uh, didn’t think that far ahead,” he admits. “But you’re here, so it doesn’t matter,” he points out.

Mikayla laughs. “You got in your car, drove an hour and a half, but didn’t think about what would happen when you got here?” 

Nick makes a face. “I did have a plan, I just—“ he breaks off without finishing. “Can we talk?”

It would be mean to tell him no after he drove all the way to Mikayla’s parents’ house to see her. Besides, she’s been waiting anxiously for this moment since she last saw Nick in January.

“Of course,” she says. She looks down at her dog, still sitting happily on Nick’s foot.

“Walk with me?” Nick asks. They both watch as the dog’s ears go up excitedly. 

Mikayla rolls her eyes but reaches back inside to grab her leash off the hook by the door. “Now why would you say the w-word?” she complains. She tosses the leash at Nick, lets him hook it onto her dog’s collar with practiced ease—despite the continued wiggles. Mikayla pulls the front door shut behind her and steps out onto the porch beside Nick.

She almost wishes Nick had asked if he could come inside. This conversation might be easier without the eyes of the neighborhood on them, in the safety of Mikayla’s home. But she’s also grateful to not be confined to the living room. The early summer breeze lifts Mikayla’s hair off the back of her neck, cools the anxious sweat there.

They start off down the sidewalk together—Nick’s still holding the leash. Mikayla wonders if he’s thought about getting a dog since moving to Columbus. That was another thing they’d talked about for the future together—getting a puppy as soon as they’d both graduated.                                                           

Nick stops suddenly as they approach his car, parked on the street in front of the house. He quickly hands Mikayla the leash, fishing in his pockets for something.

“Hang on, I have to—“ He opens the passenger door and grabs a battered notebook off the floor of the footwell. “Okay, we can—“ He starts walking down the street without finishing his sentence.

Mikayla half-jogs to keep up with him. “Nick? I don’t think you’ve said a full sentence since you got here,” she says.

Nick runs a hand over his still-regretfully buzzed hair. Mikayla needs to remember to make fun of him for it later. “Sorry, just—I don’t think I’ve ever been this nervous for something,” he says.

Mikayla scoffs, nudges Nick in the ribs with her elbow. He leans into it instead of letting her bully him off the curb. “Whatever, you literally play in the NHL.”

“No hockey game is as important as you,” Nick says seriously. 

Mikayla has to force her feet to keep moving so she doesn’t stop and gape at Nick in the middle of the sidewalk.

He’s running his finger nervously along the bent metal spiral holding together the notebook in his hands. Mikayla stares at it, the way his thumb turns white as he presses hard into the sharp end of the spiral. The notebook feels familiar, blue cardboard cover worn and covered in Nick’s handwriting. She wants to tear it out of his hands, but she waits. 

Nick continues talking. “Do you remember when we met?”

Mikayla has to blink at him for a moment, trying to get past the dissonance of his last two statements. “Well, yeah,” she says. “Of course.”

They’d been in the same elective course together. It was Mikayla’s freshman year, Nick’s sophomore year. Mikayla had never noticed Nick in class before, but she slid into the seat next to him at a study group session organized by one of their classmates, a few weeks into the semester. 

They’d talked for over an hour, about the class, about Michigan. When they were finally forced to pack up and leave the library study room, Nick had stood up and Mikayla had blurted: “Oh.”

“Oh?” Nick had echoed. Mikayla was standing, too, face to face with Nick for the first time. Close enough to clearly see the narrow scar in his eyebrow, watch it move as he raises his eyebrows at her, clearly amused.

“You’re not as tall as I thought you were,” Mikayla had admitted. It doesn’t make much sense when she says it out loud like that.

Nick had bumped into her playfully as they made their way outside. “And how tall did you think I was?” he had teased.

Mikayla huffed at him. “I don’t know, forget I said anything.” But Nick fell into step beside her as she headed back to her dorm, and she dared to ask a stupid question. “How tall are you, anyway?”

“5’8” and some change,” Nick had told her. He burst into laughter when Mikayla had pursed her lips, trying hard not to say anything else out of pocket. “What?” he asked.

“Not very much change, though,” she had said, which just made Nick laugh harder. 

He had asked her out after class two weeks after that day. 

“Your NHL stats lie about your height,” Mikayla points out. Not that she looked, or anything. 

It makes Nick laugh, the same way teasing him about his height always did. Mikayla had always been the only person he would tolerate the jokes from. 

“I’m almost 5’9”!” Nick protests. 

“Almost is not the same thing, Nicholas!” 

“You know, I think I started to fall in love with you from that very first time we met,” Nick says.

Mikayla’s left dumbfounded once again. “Be serious.” 

Nick chuckles wryly. “Why do you always think I’m lying to you lately?”

“I just don’t know what to believe anymore,” Mikayla sighs. “You keep talking about missing me and how long you’ve loved me, but that doesn’t make any sense with the way you broke up with me. You can’t love someone like that and then dump them just so you don’t end up cheating on them.”

Nick’s quiet for a moment. Their hands brush as they walk side by side on the narrow sidewalk. Nick’s still holding that battered blue notebook; Mikayla has no idea why. “Okay, that was a shitty way to end things, and it was shitty of me in general, but I’ve regretted it every moment since then, I need you to believe me on that.”

“And if I do? What then?” Mikayla asks.

Nick starts fidgeting with that notebook again. He runs a finger along the edge of the pages now, fanning them a little. Mikayla watches him, lets him collect his thoughts.

“Long distance goes both ways, you know?” Nick says.

“I—what?”

Nick continues as if Mikayla hadn’t said anything. “I think I thought I was protecting you, I guess? Like, it wouldn’t be fair to you to be stuck with a boyfriend 300 miles away. I didn’t want you to miss out on things because you were still with a guy you only saw a couple of times a year.”

“That’s stupid,” Mikayla announces. It catches Nick off-guard, and he laughs a little. “When did I ever complain about being long-distance?” she asks. She doesn’t wait for an answer. “And I definitely missed out on so much in the years we were together, like the awkwardness of going to class three times a week with a guy you hooked up with a couple of times, or seeing someone you fucked at a party around campus and realizing you don’t even know their name.

“Nick, I never cared about the distance. I was so proud of you, and I loved you so much. I didn’t realize that wasn’t enough.”

“It should have been. I already told you, it was shitty, and it was stupid, Mikkie. I’m trying to fix it now, though.”

“What is that?” Mikayla asks, curiosity finally getting the better of her. She points to the notebook.

Nick looks down at the notebook in his hands like he’s seeing it for the first time. “Oh, uh. It’s a notebook,” he says dumbly. Mikayla wants to smack him. “When we were together, I used to write about you.”

That’s why the notebook seemed so familiar. Mikayla had seen it before: amongst the clutter of Nick’s desk, mixed in with his other books in his backpack, on the floor of her own bedroom when Nick stayed over. She’d never once stopped to wonder what was inside of it.

Nick’s still talking. “It’s not, like, poetry, or anything, but sometimes when I was thinking about you, or when you’d done something that had made me laugh or really realize that I loved you, I’d write it down.”

“And you kept it?” Mikayla asks. 

“I had to dig it out of some box in my old bedroom after I saw you in Ann Arbor in January, but yeah. I, um…” Nick trails off. “I started writing in it again, after that. Just whenever I missed you or something, I’d write it down. I didn’t think I was going to show it to you, though, until I got here.”

They’ve been walking for a while now. They should probably head back, but the sun is warm on Mikayla’s face, and she’s starting to feel something like hope in her chest for the first time in months.

“You haven’t shown me anything,” Mikayla points out, gentle. It’s meant to be teasing, and she thinks Nick gets it. He sighs, long and dramatic. Mikayla thinks he’s only half-serious, but she still says, “Nick, you don’t have to, I believe you.”

And she does. When she thinks about it, she’s seen Nick writing in that notebook over the years. He always closed it when she approached, but Nick had always liked to give Mikayla his full attention. She’d never spared a second thought to the notebook’s contents. 

Nick takes the leash from Mikayla at the same time he passes her the notebook. Their fingers brush as Mikayla takes it carefully from him. In her hands, the notebook looks even worse for wear, dangerously close to falling apart, years and years of use showing in its bent edges.

Mikayla begins to leaf through it slowly. There’s a chunk of pages clumsily torn out of the beginning of the notebook—probably old class notes. The first page left only has a couple of lines, scrawled in Nick’s messy handwriting: met a great girl today gonna ask her out. Then, a few pages later, in the margins of another page of class notes: think I could spend forever with Mikayla.  

Mikayla continues flipping pages. The older pages are more faded, stained with coffee or water rings. Occasionally a page will be dated, but the pages about her are mostly random, a few sentences here, a paragraph there. She can tell when she gets to the newer entries, and not just by the crisp pages. Nick started writing the date at the top of each page, and Mikayla skims through January, into February, March, April. The pages stop abruptly in the end of April, right around the end of hockey season and Mikayla graduating.

That reminds Mikayla: “Sucks that you missed the end of the season with your ankle,” she says. 

If Nick thinks it’s a non-sequitur, he doesn’t show it, just responds, “Eh, it’s whatever. Not like I was playing groundbreaking hockey to begin with.”

Mikayla stops short. “Hang on, no.” Nick stops a few steps ahead of her. He looks over his shoulder, confused. “You didn’t get promoted to top d-pair for playing shitty hockey, Nick.”

Nick grins. “You were paying attention?”

Shit. “Uh,” Mikayla says. It’s way too late to lie. “Maybe a little.” She doesn’t know why she never unfollowed the Blue Jackets on social media, but she’d only stopped scrolling past all of their posts after seeing Nick in January. “Maybe I was just keeping up with KJ.”

“I’ll be sure to tell him,” Nick says. He’s still grinning when he reaches out a hand to Mikayla. “C’mon.”

Mikayla carefully places her hand in Nick’s. He doesn’t let go, even once she’s caught up and they’ve fallen into step together again. 

“It also means I can see your fucking terrible hair decisions as soon as you make them,” Mikayla says. She’d dropped her phone on her face the first time the Blue Jackets posted the buzz cut.

“What’s wrong with my hair?” Nick complains. He lets go of Mikayla’s hand to run a hand over the shorn strands again. Mikayla snatches at his hand when he lets it rest back at his side. 

Mikayla huffs. “Everything!” Nick shoots her an amused look. It only makes Mikayla bolder, like nothing has ever changed between them. “Your hair looked so good, and then you fucking buzzed it! And not even well!” Nick’s laughing openly at Mikayla now. She’s not finished. “It’s prickly, and uneven, and you look like a damn hedgehog.” Nick has to stop walking so he can double over in laughter. “Nick,” Mikayla whines. 

“I guess you’d prefer the mullet, then?” he asks when he finally stops laughing.

“Yes.” Mikayla actually kind of enjoyed the playoff mullet each year. “I always liked the mullets.” 

They’ve somehow managed to make it back to Mikayla’s street. She stops at the foot of the driveway, not ready for this conversation to be over. She’s still clutching Nick’s notebook, and she pulls it close to her chest.

“I know you did,” Nick says, suddenly serious. He’s still holding onto Mikayla’s hand, and he uses it to tug her close. He presses a quick kiss to her temple. “I’ve really missed you, Mikkie,” Nick whispers into her hair. 

Mikayla closes her eyes, counts to three. She knows what’s coming. She might finally know the right answer to what Nick’s going to ask. 

“I miss you, Nick,” she says.

It’s been building, the certainty that she still loves Nick enough to give it all a second chance, but this moment, a walk in the sunshine, teasing each other, is what really cemented how much she missed Nick in her life. 

Nick looks hopeful when Mikayla opens her eyes again.

“Yeah?” he says softly. He steps closer, slides a hand around Mikayla’s hip. She lets him, likes the way his hand fits there, warm against her skin. “Do you wanna do this? For real?”

Mikayla nods, no hesitation. She watches as the grin spreads across Nick’s face.

“I’ve missed that smile,” Mikayla says, and then Nick’s kissing her so hard he nearly knocks her off balance. Mikayla drops the notebook and Nick drops the leash—the dog has laid down in protest of her walk ending, anyway—so she can wrap her arms around Nick’s neck and pull him closer.

Nick pulls away for breath first, but he doesn’t go far, pressing his forehead to Mikayla’s. 

“Do you want to come inside?” Mikayla asks.

There’s time to talk about what this means, to talk about the future. That can wait. What’s important right now is Nick, here in Mikayla’s arms.

“I’d love to,” Nick says.

#cait writes things #nick blankenburg fic #nick blankenburg imagine #columbus blue jackets fic #columbus blue jackets imagine #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl fanfiction #hockey fic #hockey imagine #hockey fanfiction

[agaypanic]

Could you write a Reese Wilkerson x Reader where she goes to his apartment?

Checking In (Reese Wilkerson X Reader)

Masterlist

Request Something!

Summary: After finding out your boyfriend got kicked out of his house and decided to get an apartment, you go to check up on him.

***

You couldn’t decide what was worse, the fact that your boyfriend had been kicked out of the house and was now living on his own or that you heard about all of it from his brother Malcolm instead of from himself.

You didn’t know that anything was wrong. Reese seemed pretty normal whenever you’d see him at school. You only found out about his leaving when you went to his family’s house one day to spend time with him.

“Y/n? What are you doing here?” Malcolm asked as he welcomed you into the house.

“I’m here for Reese.” It was silly for him to ask; you only ever came over for your boyfriend.

“He doesn’t live here.” You whipped around, looking at Malcolm with confusion. 

“What are you talking about?”

“Mom and Dad kicked him out.” Malcolm shrugged. He seemed to have adjusted well to this change. “He’s living in an apartment on his own. I thought you would’ve been over there by now.”

You couldn’t believe your ears. Reese wasn’t old or responsible enough to live on his own. He didn’t know how to do his own laundry half the time. You sighed, frustrated and slightly distressed.

“Malcolm, where’s Reese’s apartment?”

***

You were lucky that you didn’t need a code or a tenant to let you into the building. You wanted to catch Reese by surprise; it seemed fair. Finding the door number that Malcolm had given you, you took a deep breath and knocked on the door.

“Y/n!” Reese seemed delighted but clearly surprised by your presence, but stepped aside to let you into his apartment. “What are you doing here?” He asked, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

“I could ask you the same thing, Reese.” You responded, crossing your arms over your chest. You did a quick survey of the space before looking at him. Surprisingly, everything was very organized and clean.

“I live here.” He shrugged, pushing himself off of the front door. “Want something to drink?”

“I want answers, Reese. What the hell is wrong with you? You’re seventeen; how were you even able to rent this place?”

Reese didn’t answer for a while, filling the silence by pouring you a drink. He set it on the counter in front of you, but you didn’t even take a glance away from him.

“Why didn’t you tell me you got kicked out?” You asked, voice quieter than it previously was. 

“I wanted to get the place set up before I invited you over.”

“Reese, you could’ve stayed with me. You didn’t have to illegally get your own place.” 

“It’s not illegal if the landlord thinks I’m eighteen,” Reese argued. You cursed under your breath and grabbed the drink he poured for you, gulping most of it down. “Besides, you always talked about us getting our own place.” You could’ve laughed. Your boyfriend was so sweet but so dumb.

“Yeah, after we graduate and are adults who are able to get our own place. Reese, honey, you need to go back home.”

“You sound like Francis.” Your boyfriend grabbed your now empty cup and put it in the sink. “He keeps trying to get me to go home.”

You moved to stand behind Reese, caging him in his place while he rinsed your cup.

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think Francis is the only one making sense right now.” You rested your forehead on Reese’s back, feeling his muscles tense and relax as he moved.

“It’s not all bad,” Reese said while turning off the faucet. He turned around in your hold and leaned against the edge of the sink, pulling you closer to him. “I get to do, like, whatever I want. And plus, you can come over whenever you want, and we won’t have to worry about someone bothering us.”

You hummed indifferently, not wanting to say something that would make him think that living alone was a good idea. You wouldn’t admit it, but it was a nice place. You wouldn’t mind staying here every now and then under different circumstances.

“Wanna stay for dinner?” Reese asked, looking down at you hopefully. “I’m making chicken.”

You sighed, supposing that the least you could do was keep your now independent boyfriend company for a while.

“You’re lucky you’re cute, Wilkerson.”

***

Malcolm in the Middle Taglist: @rattilol

Reese Wilkerson Taglist: @hollymaybank

#agaypanic #reese wilkerson #reese wilkerson x reader #malcolm in the middle #malcolm in the middle x reader

[lqbeo]

IN MY DREAMS ...

THIRTY TWO / The end

WARNINGS / angst WC / 1425

IN WHICH / You join the photography club to be with your crush, jeongin. But on the first day of the club you notice he wasn't there but instead his best friend, beomgyu, was.

Life was smooth sailing until it took an unexpected turn. Where did our daily exchanges of good morning and goodnight disappear to? Why did everything crumble away so suddenly? I honestly tried to move forward. But it's nearly impossible when every little thing triggers memories of him. From guitars to flannels to apples, I even gave up sipping smoothies and nibbling on straws simply because it reminded me of when he’d say, "Biting straws is not good for you." 

Flashback —

I sat waiting in a cosy restaurant for the blind date that Yunjin and Chaewon had orchestrated for me. While I waited, I could hear those two friends chiming in through the phone. "Take this one seriously!" Chaewon's voice came through with an emphatic tone. "Yeah, don’t turn him down if he wants to see you again," Yunjin added, but I couldn't help but chuckle. You see, they'd arranged blind dates for me in the past, but I had always found a reason to bail.

"I won't bail this time, I promise," I assured them. "If I do, I owe you all tickets to the new Marvel movie." Their excited, almost childlike screams of anticipation came through the phone. "I'll catch up with you later, I think he's here." I hastily ended the call as I spotted a tall, handsome man taking the seat in front of me.

“Hi, I’m sorry I’m a little late” He muttered and I shook my head.  “No, it’s totally fine” I reassured him, taking a sip of the coffee I'd ordered earlier. Awkward silence hung in the air, and I was starting to contemplate asking Jeongin to fake a phone call about a car accident. Thankfully, Beomgyu decided to break the silence.

“Oh uhm, I’m Beomgyu. Chae Beomgyu”

The smile on my face slowly dropped.  God, all the memories came flooding back in.  My first date with Jeongin when Beomgyu worked at that restaurant.  The time we took pictures together during the school’s air show. Our kiss in the storage room when we were in Seoul.  My eyes then swell up with tears.  “Uh, I don’t really know how these blind dates would work” He chuckles but all I could do was start to whimper.  I see the worried expression he displayed when I all of a sudden started crying.  “Yujin? Are you okay?” My loud cries I guess gave him an answer.

End of flashback —

Be proud that, after a few years, I stopped those intrusive thoughts that seemed to bring him to mind at the most unexpected moments. I could finally watch someone play the guitar without superimposing Beomgyu's image over them. I wore flannels without having to pretend they were his favourite black and white one. I even got back to enjoying smoothies without feeling like I was trying to hold onto a memory, and I didn't shy away from biting the straws. Companies started using paper straws, but I stuck with it.

It has been a decade since Beomgyu disappeared, I became an artist and my newest painting found its place in the city's most prestigious museum. As I crossed the threshold into the museum, eager to lay eyes on my painting for the very first time, the entire gallery captivated me.  Sculptures and paintings, each more remarkable than the last, beckoned me. Their artistry was a testament to human creativity and expression.

I got to the hallway that showcased my painting and it was the first thing you’d see.  A small smile grew on my face, I was proud of myself.  The painting was one of the pictures me and Beomgyu took during the airshow years ago.  Painting that piece was a key moment of the process of moving on.

Wandering down the hallway, I chanced upon an unassuming door. My curiosity got the better of me, so I surveyed my surroundings before cautiously pushing the door open. What lay inside was a room filled with screens and digital artwork. It wasn't crowded, but a few visitors were scattered about, engrossed in the videos and artwork on display.

Across from me, I noticed another door, marked with a stern "do not enter" sign. My mischievous spirit from high school stirred within me, and I couldn't resist the temptation. I opened the door silently and peered inside.

Inside, a small vintage TV sat, its screen entirely black at first. Then, it began to glitch, displaying blurred images of people intermittently. Suddenly, the screen glitched again, revealing an image identical to the one I had painted. It then went black once more.

The screen glitched once more, this time revealing a photo of the apple tree that Beomgyu once took me to. Another picture quickly followed, and to my astonishment, it was an image of me, hissing at the camera.

Flashback —

“You are good at one thing," He remarked, you turn to face Beomgyu. “You paint, right? I haven't seen any of your works, but I'm sure they're lovely." You tried to suppress the smile that threatened to spread across your face, but the blood rushing to your cheeks gave you away. “Really?" Beomgyu snapped a picture of the trees, capturing a moment of natural beauty. “Mhm, you should show me one of your paintings, especially the one of Jeongin—"

“Ya! Quit teasing!" you playfully exclaimed, playfully hitting his head this time. Laughter escaped his lips as he pointed the camera at you. You hissed at the camera, unaware that he had already taken another picture.

End of flashback —

I have moved on, ask my friends and they will say the same thing.  But moving on doesn’t mean forgetting every memory I had with him.  The next picture was the video of Beomgyu I took during the airshow.

Flashback —

You get off track, your hand absent-mindedly turn to camera towards Jeongin.  You admired him but you noticed Beomgyu swinging his arm around Jeongin’s shoulder.  Again, you absent-mindedly turn the camera towards Beomgyu’s face instead.  You stood still secretly watching how the frat boys interacted with one another.  Until Beomgyu’s eyes catch sight of the camera that was pointed at him, resulting in him tilting his head.

End of flashback —

The screen turned black once more before showing a video of Beomgyu beside a young boy.  “Look at the camera. '' He told the boy and my eyes started to water.  I missed his voice.  The little boy started speaking “Hi, Yn. Uhm..” I covered my face with my hands, trying to keep myself composed but obviously failing.  “Have a happy new year” I heard Beomgyu whisper in the boy's ear.

“Happy new year”

“Say it with more passion like this, Have a happy new year!”

“Have a happy new year!” The boy said with more enthusiasm, making me laugh.  I watched as Beomgyu gave the kid a high five.  “Yes! Amazing.” Beomgyu complimented.  

I began to recollect the memory of Beomgyu mentioning his younger brother. I suspected that the kid in the video was probably his brother. The joy they must have felt reuniting after many years was evident. His brother began speaking, "You know, the girl working with Beomgyu is really pretty—" Beomgyu swiftly silenced him by placing his hand over his mouth. His brother wriggled free from Beomgyu's grip and playfully proclaimed, "Mhm, it's true!" It brought a laugh from me.

Now, Beomgyu stood alone in the meadow under the night sky. The stars and the moon illuminated the scene. I observed as he took steps closer to the camera, bending down to fit the frame, ready to speak.

"I got out of bed just to show you this," he said, adjusting the camera to capture the moon and stars. Memories of our late-night drives and nights spent by the Han River, gazing at the sky, flooded my mind. Beomgyu continued, 

“Uh, it's two in the morning in Korea, so you’re probably asleep.  I know it’s about to be a year since we last saw each other but, hold one just a bit longer.  I’ll come see you soon, because I just know that it’s not gonna be an amazing year if I don’t spend it with you”

Those were his final words before the screen faded to black. I couldn't hold back my tears any longer. I was crying as intensely as I did on that blind date. I didn't care if someone found me; all I cared about was how Beomgyu could say those things but not come back. As I sobbed, I noticed the screen displaying:

In remembrance of Choi Beomgyu

(2001-2023)

MLIST / PREV

A/N: this is the end. Thank you so much for waiting. I apologise that it took too long. I started school again and everything just went chaotic. Anyways. Thank you so much for reading and I had a lot of fun creating this story. Thank you again for everything I love you guys saurrr much.

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[youmarin]

I Don't Like You | Hanamaki Takahiro x Reader!

Word count: 5,462

Relationships: Hanamaki Takahiro x reader (enemies to...) Oikawa Tooru x reader, Iwaizumi Hajime x reader and Matsukawa Issei x reader (all platonic)

Another day, another class, another occasion for Hanamaki Takahiro to disrupt it with the ruckus he and his best friend Matsukawa had going on at the back of the classroom. You rolled your eyes. 

You’ve known the strawberry blonde ever since middle school. He was slightly popular with being on the volleyball team and everyone saw some sort of charisma in him that you failed to appreciate. To you, he was just a class clown who liked attention. An insufferable, dumb jock. 

Then you were first year highschoolers. You almost cried while you read the lists of your assigned homerooms when you stumbled upon his name. One thing was just bearing with him in the hallways, but now he was your classmate? 

“Sorry, my bad. Dude, stop fucking pushing me.” He absentmindedly apologized to you as his dark haired friend nudged him to make way to the front line before the bulletin board. 

“How?” You heard Iwaizumi exclaim. 

“Did you two bribe the principal or something?” Oikawa chuckled. “How is it that you ended up in the advanced courses?”

“What? What are you talking about? We wouldn’t be so dumb to do that.” 

“Well, apparently you aren’t as dumb as to not make it into first class.” 

“No wonder we couldn’t find ourselves anywhere else.” 

“I heard the advanced English teacher is hell.” some other student said, and they picked it up. 

“Oi, is that true?” Matsukawa asked warily.

“A lot of people have said that. They said a lot of upperclassmen used to complain about her.”

“But-But these are optional right? You can change to regular classes if you don’t like where they placed you.” Hanamaki asked not so confident.

“Sure. But you can validate these as college courses. If you plan to go.” Hajime explained. “You should give it a try either way.” 

“If by midterms you’re failing you could switch up. Or find a tutor.” Oikawa advised. 

“How is it that you’ve been in advanced courses all this time? Honestly, I never saw you as the smart type outside of a volleyball court.” Oikawa was triggered and offended, to say the least. 

“FYI, I’m very smart. Also I work hard and that pays off.” He adjusted his glasses.

“And y/n has saved his ass countless times.” Added Iwaizumi knowingly. 

“Y/n?” Hanamaki asked curiously, “That name rings a bell. Is it that nerdy girl with glasses who makes out everyone else is stupid and thinks she’s hot shit?” 

“No. How dare you confuse my sweet y/n with that meanie. She’s bitter because y/n always beats her and is first in our class. Wait, there she is. Y/n-chan!” Oikawa called out to you and Hanamaki followed his gaze ‘til he met a girl: average height, long, wavy black hair, cinnamon kissed skin, full lips, small nose and dark eyes. You smiled at Oikawa and at Iwaizumi who was by his side. But when your eyes landed on him and Mattsun you became serious. 

“Huh. Smart, pretty too. But, ” Matsukawa said, looking at you as you made your way over to them. “she looks quite scary.” 

“She can be.” Iwaizumi agreed, “but she’s good.” 

“How is a shrimp scary?” Hanamaki snorted, making fun of his friends.

“Who are you calling shrimp, My Melody?” you bit back. 

“Oh.”  Yeah, Mattsun still found you scary.

“Just so you know, that’s a compliment.” He smirked at you. “Bad bitches look good in pink.” 

“Okaaay off to a rough start I see.” Oikawa made a survey of the situation. “Y/n, you’re making me look bad.” 

“Huh, I thought that was just how you looked.” Iwaizumi pondered, making you laugh. Okay, she laughs, Makki thought.

Oikawa glared at his spiky haired best friend “Whatever.” He plastered a smile on his face addressing you, “I wanted to officially present to you some new classmates.” He gestured towards the duo, “Meet-“

“Hanamaki Takahiro.” He cut Oikawa off. 

“Matsukawa Issei.” followed the tall, black haired boy, throwing an arm over the former’s shoulders. 

“Oh I know you two.” 

“Keeping tabs about us?” 

“Rather staying clear of you.” 

“Tōru, I think your friend chose to be sour today.” 

“I… Hope we can get along. Someday.” Matsukawa said awkwardly. 

Back to the present, you were now in your last semester as second years and to your surprise he’d managed to stay in the group - barely making it yet somehow- and you still thought the same way about him. 

“Is there something you two want to share with the class, Mr. Hanamaki and Mr. Matsukawa?” 

“Uh, not really, sir. You see, this is a private conversation.” Takahiro answered, gesturing between Mattsun and himself.

“Then why don’t you take your private conversation to somewhere more private, like the principal’s office?” The teacher said.

“I wouldn’t want to bother the principal, sir.” You noticed how the rest of the class held back their smiles. Your teacher sighed, asking for patience from the heavens to deal with a brat. 

“Alright. I'll humor you too. In fact, class, thanks to Hanamaki you’re all to hand over the exercises from pages 67 to 72 in their entirety. They’ll be part of your grade for a surprise test.” If anyone had a trace of a smile on their face it had vanished now, and the entire class erupted in complaints, some throwing nasty looks at the culprit, remarkably his other two friends. Iwaizumi and Oikawa turned on their seats and muttered something to him. 

“Nice job, dumbass.” 

You gathered your things when the teacher dismissed the class. In fact, you just had to review your notes and the material from your textbook. You had already done the exercises from the workbook in advance, given that March was approaching and with it your finals. You had tons of homework assigned already, and you didn’t like to pile them up. 

“Y/n-chan.” You heard his singsong voice. Almost everyone had left the room besides the four volleyball team players and you. The teacher had held Makki and Matssun back to reprimand them. 

“Let me guess. You want the answers to the exercises.” You told Oikawa knowingly. 

“I don’t think the answers will be enough.”  Oikawa grimaced. “I would like to understand what he’s talking about if he’s going to make us pass a test.” 

You smiled a bit amused, “So, study session?” 

“Of course! Have I told you you’re an angel? 

“Yes, you have. Every time you use flattery to make up for what you asked.” Iwaizumi looked at him disgustingly. 

“I don’t know, she seems more like a demon to me.”  Hanamaki shared as he walked over to the rest of you, Matsukawa following him. 

You glared at him before dismissing his comment and addressing Iwaizumi, “You’re joining?” 

“Uh- Sure. I could use a little help too.” He gave you a small smile, feeling a little embarrassed. 

“Oh you’re making a study group?” Mattsun asked, interested. Makki wished he could take back his latest comment. While Oikawa saw the opportunity and grasped it. Hajime saw his intentions clear in the brunette’s eyes. 

‘Oh, yes! It’s perfect. Why don’t we all study together?” He suggested. It was a great plan where you could sort things out with both class and Hanamaki. It was hard for him that his friends didn’t get along -for whatever the reason was- when you spent most of your days together during class and rather often outside. He could try to make Makki be a little gentler with you and if he managed to convince Hajime to do the same with you he was sure it’ll work out. 

“Uh I don’t know…” you looked over indiscreetly at Hanamaki. 

Makki was about to respond “Wait. Me? With you?” He made a face. As much as he could use your help he’d rather die on the spot than asking you. But Tooru kicked him slightly, making him yelp in surprise, stopping him from finishing whatever he planned to say. “Okay, okay. If you don’t mind.” He muttered throwing foul looks at Oikawa. 

It was Monday, the volleyball club’s day of rest, so the group walked together straight to your house when school was over. You walked ahead with Iwaizumi, the air still cold in the mid February twilight. Your cheeks were turning slightly rosy, and you could see your breath when you exhaled. You wished you had brought your scarf. 

As you all agreed to stop at a coffee shop, Oikawa threw a look at Makki and gestured something before he left with Hajime to order. He didn’t understand what the former wanted, “What?” he mouthed.

Tooru almost groaned. This is why girls say chivalry is dead. 

Matsukawa picked up the message instead. “Here.” He said, getting your attention. Taking off his black scarf, he didn’t lose time to gently place it around your neck, not giving you any time to protest nor reject his gesture. 

“Thanks.” You welcomed in the warmth the soft fabric brought, and Mattsun took that as a win. Sure, he’d felt that during the past months you had at least become acquaintances and had been polite to each other. Things between you weren’t as hostile as when it came to Hanamaki, who finally rolled his eyes as he understood what the brunette meant. He’d lost the opportunity. Mattsun gave him a sorry look, but soon Makki brushed it off. Why did he have to be nice to you when you were the one who acted like you had a stick up your ass every time you were around him? He never did anything to you. 

“We’’ll go to my room so as not to disrupt my parents.”  

“Is your mom home? I'd like to greet her.” Your mom had already met Oikawa by the countless times he’d been over. She loved him and needless to say she would plan your wedding if you so much as told her you liked him. But to her dismay you were just friends. Your dad didn’t like him though. He said pretty boys like him must be looking to break your heart. Also Tooru was scared of him. 

“She’ll be here later.” You told him as you guided them through the hallway and to your room. 

“Would like to know where she gets her attitude from.” Makki said under his breath. 

“Oikawa would say from his dad because he doesn’t like him.” Hajime confided and they snickered, making fun of the brunette. 

Tooru sneezed, then turned to both of them at the same time you did, “What are you two going on about?” 

“Nothing.” 

You had gone out of the room for a moment, telling the boys to make themselves comfortable, feeling a little mortified to let into your house and into your room a boy you supposedly hated his guts. 

Oikawa jumped in your bed while Iwaizumi got your desk chair, and Mattsun sat on a bean bag chair on the floor. Hanamaki inspected your room, seeing several posters of your favorite musicians, a CD player laying on your bed that Oikawaa had grabbed, bookshelves, drawings on top of your desk, pictures - Mostly of landscapes but there were also family pictures . He recognized you with Iwaizumi and Tooru on a couple -, some paintings on the wall and some on the floor waiting to be hanged. 

“It’s a nice bedroom.” he commented, and everything was going fine, until he opened his mouth again, “I remember this girl that took me over to her place and she had this collection of creepy porcelain dolls on one big shelf that covered the wall opposite her bed. I was afraid I wouldn't be able to get i-”

“Okay,” you came back in time to cut him off, carrying another bean bag chair in for him, “Thanks for the compliment on my room but I don’t need to hear that.” 

“Right. Sorry. Forgot you probably have never gotten laid, or either kissed someone.” 

“Ugh, Makki, please shut the fuck up.” Oikawa shook his head and Hajime brushed a hand down his face. He was unbelievable. 

“Not that is any of your business, but I do have kissed someone.” You said calmly as you took your notebooks out of your bag and sat next to Oikawa. 

“That’s a shocker. Who?” He said, plopping down on the chair as he finished his tea. 

“Why do you care?” You raised a brow and Oikawa smiled down at his hands. In any other moment he would be harassing you about the subject in question to know but he was being real quiet. 

“I don’t but since you’re dropping information like that you could just share the whole thing.” He shrugged. “Does he go to Seijoh too?” 

“Yes.” 

“And?” 

“And what?” 

He smirked, as if realizing something, “Nah, wait. Bet it was some weird ugly ass kid and that’s why you don’t want to tell.” 

Now if he wasn’t able to speak, you four would’ve witnessed a miracle that evening, “Excuse you?! Who the hell you dare call ugly. If I may say I’m the prettiest male in the room.” Oikawa came clean and you smacked him right in his chest so hard he lost his breath for a moment. 

“Oh great.” you muttered, a hand covering your face. 

“No fucking way.” Makki started with a chuckle, staring at Oikawa incredulously.

“You didn’t know?!” Mattsun asked Iwaizumi given his expression.

 Hajime shook his head, “No wonder you weren’t curious.” 

“Really? This guy?” Matsukawa continued. 

“What does that mean?” Oikawa whined. 

“Fine. We were in middle school and were what? 15?” 

“Yeah I had just turned 15. And you were still 13.” Oikawa smiled as he recalled. 

“So you dated?” 

“Not really. We’ve always been good friends. It just happened, everyone was doing it and we wanted to know what it was like.” 

“We just figured at that moment that if we wanted to have our first kiss there wasn’t anyone better than us.” You chuckled, flustered. It was a little embarrassing, and you basically had forgotten what led you to this conversation. 

“Wait, so,” Hanamaki kept in interrogation mode, “you haven’t kissed anyone else since him?” 

“No.” you shook your head, “What are we doing? What am I doing? Grab your notes and let’s start studying.”

*

Spring brought new beginnings, a gentler breeze, slowly beginning to bid farewell to winter with soft sunny days and much livelier nights. 

Your eyes captured the pretty pink veil made out of cherry blossom trees, which flowers rained down as their branches danced with the gusts of wind. It was very romantic walking under the pink snow. 

Hanamaki was walking to school that morning when he saw you as he turned in the curve and got to the main road. He didn’t live far from your house, so sometimes - when he wasn’t late- he saw you. The couple of times you’d noticed him, you’d just nodded in acknowledgment and continued your way, walking with him just a few steps back. He wondered if he should greet you. Thinking about that time at your house it wasn’t that bad between you two. Hopefully you might think the same. 

He debated with himself and at the end chose to go for it, words dying in his mouth when he saw you stop to take pictures. Makki wondered how many cherry blossoms were in your camera roll by now. He waited as to not interrupt you, and that’s when it happened. He saw you slip as you were about to resume walking, and before he knew it he was running to catch you, under the risk of slipping on the blossoms himself and breaking something. 

You had screamed and closed your eyes tightly, accepting your fate, but the fall didn’t come. Instead, you felt a pair of arms engulfing you in a secure grip. You opened one of your eyes and were met with a worried Hanamaki looking down on you. “You okay?”  Having not recovered your speech yet, you nodded hastily. Then, grinning, “Falling for me?” 

“Shut up.” There it was. “Going to help me stand up?” you shrieked as he made it to let go of you while he laughed. 

“You really thought I would drop you after all?” Some of the flowers had gotten on his hair. He did as you said when you just remained silent looking up at him and his smile, and got you back on both feet safely. 

 “You could’ve hurt yourself.” You said, avoiding looking at him. 

“So you mean to say I was supposed to let you fall?”  you shrugged and he scoffed. Makki took a look at you: your hair had gotten a bit messier, hands buried in the pockets of your jacket, expression serious and rosy cheeks. He wouldn’t lie, he thought you looked cute. “Or by any chance you’re worrying about me?” 

“I’m not.” you quickly protested, frowning. “But I don’t want to be the reason you miss volleyball club.” 

“Of course. It’s just that.” He raised a brow, amused as you nodded along. You still weren’t looking at him. “A “thank you” would’ve been enough for me.” 

“Thanks.” 

“You’re very welcome.” he smiled, pleased, but it quickly vanished as you turned to keep walking. “Wait, hey- Wait up!” He hurried to fall into step with you, careful not to slip, “We can walk to school together since we’re here.” 

“No, thanks.” you spoke back to him.

“I thought we just had a moment back there.” he gave you a side look. “And back at your house you had to admit it wasn’t so bad.” 

“Yeah, after I cut you off before you could talk about sex.” 

“Jealous?” 

“Ugh, this is what I’m talking about.” you stopped and turned to him, irritation clear on your voice and in your features. “You’re so unserious. “I’ll be surprised if you actually cared about something.” 

A look crossed his eyes you couldn’t quite grasp. Did it actually hurt him what you said? No, whatever you said couldn’t possibly matter to him. You continued walking, thinking he wouldn’t say anything but then he spoke up, “Okay, you can think whatever you want. Even if you barely know me.” 

When you reached the school gates, he spoke up again, “Honestly, I think you could be nice. Maybe if you weren’t so worried about everything and guarded all the time… I don’t know. I think you could use some unseriousness.” Then he went ahead, leaving you to take a deep breath to get your cool back and reflect on what he had just said. 

Maybe… Maybe you’ve gone a little too far. 

*

 It was the day of the opening ceremony and you were about to begin your last year of high school. 

“Oi! Sour Patch kid.” You heard him call you by that nickname he’d picked for you. Makki was waiting for you at the entrance of the hall. Ever since that conversation you had, your behaviour around him had improved. He wondered if it had something to do with whatever he might’ve said - he’d forgotten most of it by now-. But he wasn’t complaining, and neither were the rest of the boys. At least now you could stand in a room without throwing comments at each other. It was a sort of silent truce. 

“Where are the others?” You asked, looking around for them. Still, it felt awkward to be left alone with him.  

“Oikawa was held back somewhere by a bunch of girls and Hajime went to the rescue. Mattsun is saving our seats.” You nodded.

“They let you inside like that?” You signaled. 

“Oh. That. We avoid the principal and the teachers.” He shrugged. He gave a step back and threw his hands up as you stepped over to him. “Woah, what the hell are you doing?” 

“You could at least button up your shirt.” You started to fix it up for him under his nervous gaze. “And where is your tie?” 

“I didn’t- I didn’t bring one.” He stuttered an answer and you shook your head. 

You fixed his collar without it. “There. Looks much better now at least.” You smiled, satisfied with your work, until you looked up at him. He was staring at you intently. You hadn’t removed your hands from his shoulders. 

“Sorry for being late!” Oikawa shouted and sighed as if he had been running for miles, breaking whatever spell you had fallen under and startling you both, “What were you two doing?” 

“Waiting for you. What else?” You crossed your arms defensively.

“Did our homeroom teacher see you?” Iwaizumi said to Makki and snorted. “You look like a model student for once.” 

When you three walked inside, Mattsun waved you over. “Makki, you look… pink. And I’m not talking about your hair.” He spoke to his best friend who was blushing furiously. 

*

One of your new teachers had thought that by moving Makki to another seat far from Mattsun or the other boys she was doing something. What she didn’t know was that the strawberry blonde was capable of making conversation with almost anyone. 

“From now on you’ll sit next to y/n.”  Your eyes widened and you gave her a pleading look. She glanced at you understandingly yet you could see her asking for your cooperation. Mattsun looked dramatically devastated as Hanamaki grabbed his stuff and switched places with the boy beside you. Iwaizumi and Tooru looked at each other. Things were either very convenient or about to go to hell. 

“Hello, partner.” He smiled at you while you merely gave him a look before turning your attention back to the lecture as the teacher took over where she had left. Hanamaki then attempted to start a conversation with the guys sitting behind you, yet they seemed a little apathetic. Turning to his side, his intentions were quickly discarded. No way in hell he was speaking to that Yui girl. So he propped his head in his hand as he tried to keep his attention on what the teacher was saying. 

After she gave the instructions for the day’s class work, you started to complete it diligently. By your side, Makki looked over at the board, then back to his notebook, turning his pencil on his hand and back again. To be honest, he had no clue about what he was supposed to do, yet he gave it a go. You threw glances now and then to your right, and seeing him erase something for nearly like the tenth time, you spoke, “Do you need help?” Iwaizumi perked up at the sound of your voice and nudged Oikawa, pointing towards you two. 

“Me? No. I’’m doing great. Easy.”  Oikawa smacked himself on the face. 

“Are you sure?” 

“Yeah, just… Peachy.” 

“Okay.” You went back to your notebook. Glancing around as lost as he was, he looked back again: notebook, board, you. 

He sighed, “Okay, I lied.” he admitted, “ I could use a little help.”  

You did the rest of the work together while you explained it to him. Makki swore no one had ever explained to him something as easy as you made it seem. Every day during that class you two worked seamlessly together, and needless to say everyone was surprised, and each time Hanamaki caught himself staring at you more. Noticing your small smiles, the small frown etched on your face as you focused, how you pushed your hair back from falling over your notebook until you gave up and tied it up in a messy bun instead, how you explained the things he didn’t understand. 

One day during practice, Mattsun caught him staring at you while you chatted with Oikawa sitting on the benches. The setter had sprained his ankle and was out until he recovered. They had a practice match soon, so his mood wasn’t the best, but you keeping him company kept his thoughts from spiraling. He laughed at something you said, making you smile. 

“You think Oikawa might like y/n?” Makki found himself asking as they practiced underhand passes. 

Hajime, who had paired with Kyōtani and was beside them, snorted, “He’s simping over his girlfriend so that’s out of the question.” 

“Didn’t they break up?” Mattsun asked. 

“Almost. They’ve been arguing a lot lately.” Iwaizumi clarified, then turned to Makki, “Why do you ask anyway?” 

“Unbelievable.” Matsukawa let the ball drop, “You like her.” 

“Doesn’t she hate him?” Kyōtani brought up and the trio stared at him. 

“Of course I don’t. That's ridiculous.” He brushed Matsukawa’s statement off as if it was the most absurd thing he’d ever heard. “And you,” he pointed at Kentarō, “are wrong. We hate each other.” 

“Oi! I’m still here and watching you all. Why are you stopping? Quit gossiping and get back to practice!” The captain yelled at them. “We have to crush Karasuno with or without me. But hopefully with me.”  You shook your head as he smiled, pleased with simply the idea. 

“Hate each other my ass.” Matsukawa called him out, “You’re always searching for her.” 

“That’s not true.” 

“So you fell for her but she hates you?” 

“Shut the fuck up, Kyōtani.” 

“What if I don’t?” 

“Well things have gotten better between you two but I can’t say from her part.” Iwaizumi thought. 

“Y/n/n,” Oikawa started, his demeanor changing all of a sudden, “Do you think I’m a shitty person?” 

“What? Of course not!” you laughed, yet you were confused, “What made you even think that?” 

“I don’t know.” He was looking down, fidgeting with his hands. Suddenly he resembled a little boy being lectured, “The way I act sometimes…” 

“That doesn’t make you a shitty person, Tōru. It just makes you a human being.” you smiled at him even though he wasn’t looking at you, “And I don’t think you really hate Tobio or Ushijima. You two just have this rivalry and it’s because you care so much for what you do. Well that’s how I see it. You’re great, don’t let anyone make you believe you aren’t.”

He nodded, finally turning to look at you with a smile. “Do you know I love you?”

“I love you too, stupid.” You laughed as he threw himself at you and kissed your cheek, “Be careful.” Then he laid his head on your lap and you brushed his hair as he looked up at you. “How’s stuff with Aoi?” His girlfriend that clearly disliked you.

He sighed, “We’re back talking but… She’s being distant.” He feared she might break up with him after all. “But let’s not talk about that.” 

“Then what?” you said expectantly. 

“How about you and Makki?” 

“What about him?” you looked over to the court and your eyes found him. 

“You don’t seem to hate him as much.” He chose his words carefully. 

“I don’t.” And that was what he called progress. “I still think he’s weird and a pain in the ass though.” But remember: don’t count your wins too soon.

“You’re not exactly the definition of normal.” you smacked him and he laughed. 

“Neither are you.”  

“Thanks.”  . . . “But do you find him attractive?” 

“What are you on now?” you said with a scandalous face that wasn’t not funny, but you were blushing. Oikawa took that as a yes.  

“Nothing. I was just asking.” 

“I don’t like him if that’s what you’re assuming. And I’m sure he doesn’t like me either.”  

“Want me to ask him?” 

“No. What for?”  

*

Next morning, you were a sight (not in a good way). Somehow, Hanamaki Takahiro had made his way into your dreams, startling you awake in the dead of the night. After that, you tossed and turned but weren’t able to go back to sleep. Finally, you had lost it, you thought. You blamed Oikawa’s absurd questions.

“Are you okay?” The brunette dared to ask when he saw you, “You look a little…” 

“You look terrible.” Hanamaki cut him off bluntly. You glared at both boys, and they backed off as you walked by over to your seat.  

Iwaizumi smacked both on the back of their heads, following you. “Way to go, idiots.” 

Needless to say, during class you were struggling to not doze off. After doing a pretty good job during morning periods, it was during your last class that you finally succumbed. Thankfully, since Iwaizumi was sitting in front of you, the teacher couldn’t notice from his spot in front of the class. 

Makki was sitting next to you too, and when he glanced your way he found you asleep. His gaze became softer seeing your relaxed features, your head lying on one of your arms folded on top of your desk. 

Later at home when you sat at your desk and took your things out of your bag to begin your study session, something slipped out from between your notebooks. Stranged, you picked it up, and saw the note stuck to the papers. “Notes from litt. class. Get some proper rest later. No use messing with someone who can’t talk back.” - Hanamaki 

You read the words over and over, and you couldn’t help but smile a bit. 

*

“It’s weird, y/n’s still not here.” Iwaizumi mentioned. The day of the practice match had come, and you were always there early to wish them good luck before you went to find a seat at the stands.

“There’s still a few minutes.” Mattsun allowed. “Makki’s not even here yet.” 

Aoi had come to see Oikawa and he’d gone out of the locker room for a moment to meet her before the match, otherwise he would be complaining about your unusual tardiness. He certainly would later. 

You were hurrying towards the gym at the same time the other team arrived and was about to go inside, getting the attention of some of them. “Look, it seems like Seijoh got a cute manager too since the last time we met.” 

You were wearing your PE tracksuit pants with the school t-shirt so thinking back you should’ve known that was what caused the misunderstanding. A dark haired boy you recognized as the libero stood in front of you. 

“Hey there, Miss manager.” He gave you a smile. 

“Hello,” you started politely yet the look in your eyes showed you were confused, “Manager? I’m sorry I’m not-” 

“What’s your name?” He barely let you get a word in. The captain was about to interfere, knowing where things were going but Sugawara stopped him. 

“I’m Y/n. But I’m not-” 

“Are you going out with someone?”  

You shook your head, “I-” 

“Sorry, man, she has a boyfriend.” your eyes went wide, as you heard none other than Makki - who was late- speak up. Standing now behind you, he leaned down to press a kiss to your cheek, leaving your cheeks burning, “You okay, love?”  Love?  Then he looked over at the boys seriously. 

Sugawara snorted. 

“Boyfriend?!” You two bursted into the locker room. “What the hell was that?!”

“Well, it worked. None of them will bother you now.” He seemed amused rather than bothered by what he just did unlike before when he saw that guy flirting with you, although he was blushing too now that you came into the room with some of the boys still inside shouting about what happened. Being a sweetheart, as always, he thought. 

“You do tell, please.” Matsukawa smirked, “What are you two lovers quarrelling about now?”  

“Your friend just told the whole Karasuno team we’re a couple.” 

“What the hell made you do that?” Iwaizumi asked before he started laughing. His friend was an idiot.

“Same thing I’m asking.” 

“Some guy was bothering her so I told them we’re together to get him and anyone else off her.”  which Mattsun translated as I was jealous in his head as he looked at him biting his tongue to not call him out on his bullshit. 

“They found out before me?!” Oikawa screamed by the door, entering the room. 

“It’s not true!” 

“Not yet.” Mattsun muttered to himself, “But you’ll have to play along, right? Otherwise they’ll think you’re both liars.” Speaking up as a proper best friend and wing man. 

“What?” you looked at him, then towards the strawberry blonde, “It’s not like they’ll be paying me much attention.” 

“But my girlfriend should cheer for me.” He shrugged his shirt off and you looked away, flustered,  while he put on his uniform. Then he grabbed the extra one he had and threw it your way.  His club shirt. With his name, and the number three stamped on both sides. 

“How are you so calm about this?” You stared at the piece of fabric, then nervously up at him. “Everyone at school will think we’re together. Are you really okay with that?” 

“I don’t care what they think. Do you?”

A/N: Another example of terrible fic names for you! First time writing for my Seijoh boys. Oh I love them so much and hope you like the interactions between them and with y/n. Was going through Makki brainrot again back in December but also had to show some love to my Oiks <3. Also this had like 5 extra pages on my docs. buuut I wasn't entirely sure with how it was going and I still don't get a good scene to end this story lol. Until next time! -Youmarin

Like, comment your thoughts on it or reblog if you liked it.

#haikyuu!! #aoba johsai #seijoh 4 #seijoh 3rd years #hanamaki #hanamaki takahiro #takahiro hanamaki #oikawa tooru #oikawa #oikawa toru #iwaizumi hajime #iwaizumi #mattsukawa issei #matsukawa #hanamaki x reader #hanamaki takahiro x reader #hq!!

[thethirdromana]

What could Jonathan sound like?

I've seen a few posts going around that Jonathan could or should have a Devon accent, so I wanted to look into that in more detail. This is not to be negative about anyone's headcanons, but just to provide a bit more context.

Accents in the UK are complicated; the UK has a higher level of accent diversity than nearly anywhere else in the English-speaking world. Someone's accent is determined by their region, where accents can vary between towns that are less than fifty miles apart, and by their class - not just working/middle/upper but variations within those as well.

It was much the same in the 1890s. "Standard" accents have been promoted since the 17th century, and by the end of the 19th century, "received pronunciation" (RP) was "widespread among students at fee-paying public schools and universities by the end of the 19th century." (source)

So to figure out what Jonathan might sound like, we first need to figure out where he grew up and what his social class is. For where he grew up, I'm going to assume Exeter. Plausibly he could have grown up somewhere else, then moved to Exeter, say in his teens, to have "grown into manhood" working for Peter Hawkins. But to narrow down the options, let's go with Exeter.

Then there's his social class. That's trickier. As a solicitor's clerk, he was on the lower fringes of the middle class; as a solicitor, he is more solidly established in the middle class. But in the English class system, your job is usually much less important than your background; even in the modern day, someone with long-established family wealth who went to private school who falls on hard times and ends up working in a supermarket stays upper-middle class even if they're doing a working-class job. And we don't know Jonathan's background; he's an orphan.

OK. So let's listen to some options. These are all much later than the 1890s, but I've done my best, especially working with the limitation that the British Library Sounds Archive doesn't have a straightforward search by year option that I could find.

Here's a working-class man in from Plympton, Devon (38 miles from Exeter), born 1882, speaking in 1964:

And another working-class man from Blackawton, Devon (36 miles from Exeter), born 1888, speaking in 1964:

And I can't get the preview for this to display properly, but here's a final working-class man from Swimbridge, which is also about 35 miles from Exeter but in a different direction. He was born in 1885 and the recording is from 1963.

That gives some sense of what a working-class Jonathan might sound like.

But regardless of Jonathan's actual background, I don't think he would sound like that. Frankly, I'm not sure you would find many solicitors with a strong working-class Devon accent even in the modern day, let alone the 1890s.

(Which is a damning verdict on social mobility in the UK, but never mind that right now.)

Let's compare the accents above with that of an upper-class man from Exeter, Devon, born 1881, speaking in 1942. This is William Temple, Archbishop of Canterbury:

He's a perfect example of the RP accent I mentioned above - the one that was widely used by students at fee-paying schools in the UK by the late 19th century. I'd expect Jack, Arthur and Lucy to have this kind of accent. You can't easily identify which part of the country Temple comes from, but you can instantly identify his class.

Jonathan might not have naturally had this kind of accent, nor might he have grown up speaking this way. But for an ambitious young man attempting to solidify his position in the middle class, attempting to sound like this as much as possible would be a good career move. Personally, my best guess at his accent would be that he would sound like this most of the time - maybe with a little more Devon sneaking in when he feels emotional or forgets himself. The more privileged you imagine Jonathan's background to be, the more likely he would be to use RP.

RP has evolved a lot over the past century, so I think it's interesting to compare what this kind of accent sounds like in the modern day, since historic RP can sound quite strange to modern ears.

The current Archbishop of Canterbury, Justin Welby, comes from a relatively similar background to William Temple (there's that social mobility again), and he sounds like this:

(he's arguing here that the Church of England should do better on LGBT rights, in case the preview doesn't make that clear)

And that's pretty much the same accent as the fantastic Ben Galpin has in @re-dracula too.

#dracula daily #mild dracula spoilers #historical context #unfortunately i wasn't able to find any middle-class accent recordings from people born in the 19th century in exeter #so if anyone does have an example of those i'd love to hear it #Youtube #long post

[yuurei20]

Trey Fact Sheet

(Voted 16th-most-popular-character on the jpn server (tied with Sam and Ace) in a combination of seven different character-ranking surveys held throughout 2021)

Trey’s aura is that of the big brother or protector of Heartslabyul dorm students, but the game guide assures us that “he has a dark side”. He can be gentle and often be found following up with victims at which Riddle has recently lashed out. He is generally not strict with Riddle himself, however, and is sometimes described as spoiling him.

Trey often speaks highly of Riddle. He is humble about his own abilities, saying, "There is not much I can do as a vice housewarden,” and "I am just for decoration." But there is no doubt that he is good at his job, capable of understanding whatever point it is that Riddle is trying to make much quicker than others. While admitting that there are several Queen of Hearts laws that don’t make sense to him, he has still memorized the first 350.

Floyd calls Trey “Umigame-kun”, for Sea Turtle. After Riddle’s enrollment in NRC Rook began referring to Trey as “Chevalier de Rose” (薔薇の騎士) for Rose Knight. Most of the students do not comment on Rook’s nicknames for them, but Trey has expressed multiple times that he does not like the name.

This is possibly because Trey seems to worry about what others think of him: in Deuce’s Wish Upon a Star vignette, he hides behind a pillar when two Octavinelle students begin to mock Deuce for his stargazer robes. The students leave quickly after realizing he is there, and Trey says outright that he “was trying to avoid being seen” while Deuce was dealing with the bullies, because “Dancing in this getup is embarrassing” and “Putting forth an honest effort for a fairy tale dance is just inherently awkward”.

Like Epel, Trey may also have some outdated ideas about gender roles, saying, "Men in particular can feel embarrassed and not want to do stuff like this, ya know?".

Much like Epel's lines, however, this was changed for ENG-server.

At the end of the event he comes around and says, “You were right” to Deuce, and that “This isn’t the time to worry about being embarrassed.”

Trey and Cater are self-described best friends, while Lilia refers to them as “partners” in Book 5. We learn in the Wish Upon a Star event that they roomed together for their first two years at NRC, and in a homescreen line Trey says they are always together because “I don’t have to worry about anything when I’m with Cater”, possibly insinuating that the embarrassment he can feel around others does not apply to Cater.

While he generally appears calm, it is because he usually does not express his innermost feelings in words or in his expressions―it can be unclear what he is thinking behind his smile.

Trey takes good care of his underclassmen and rarely becomes angry, but when he does, “he can stay that way for a while”, according to Cater.

In his dorm vignette, a group of first-year students tell him that making the same cakes all the time “gets a little samey” when he explains that he can’t take personal requests. When Trey recommends they try making a cake themselves, they agree, saying that baking would be “way easier” than doing lawn maintenance for the party.

At the end of the vignette, Trey has made a back-up cake to compensate for the culinary horror that is the cake made by the first-years, and he refuses to allow them to touch it without first eating all of their own cake-mistake, in revenge for their speaking down to him about the presumed difficulty and “sameness” of his cakes.

When Leona awakens from his overblot after it is discovered he and Ruggie were behind the events of Book 2, Trey's solution is to allow them to participate in the Spelldrive tournament, as Ruggie had injured Trey's ankle in an earlier chapter and a Spelldrive field is the only location in the school where the free use of magic is not against the rules. This pattern of preferring revenge over forgiveness seems to be characteristic of Trey.

He is also, occasionally, something of a prankster--despite his more mature aura--successfully convincing first Deuce and Ace and then Riddle that oyster sauce is a necessary ingredient of strawberry tarts, just for the fun of it.

Translation: "The red and black base-colors of Heartslabyul are accented by the green of the bedspread and rugs. All are designed in the same clover motif as Trey's last name. As befits Trey, two green hats are visible next to the desk."

He is described by others (and himself) as “ordinary”, with no particular skills. His PE vignette begins with Trey saying that he hopes to “squeak by with a passing grade” and it is all about “nailing that bare minimum” (he says in a homescreen line that he secretly does not enjoy flying), but he then shows extraordinary flying skills to rescue Kalim from a flying carpet mishap, much to the surprise of Vargas who had never before noticed his abilities in nearly three years of being his teacher.

When Vil compliments him on being an “exceptional second-in-command” to Riddle, Trey downplays his abilities as usual, leading Vil to respond, “Those with no appreciation for character would take your modesty at face value. Of course, if that’s the image you want to manufacture for yourself, don’t let me stop you.”

He is also very skilled at alchemy, his best subject. This may have something to do with confectionary often requiring prices measurements and attention paid to the reactions between ingredients, which is similar to the delicacy and precision needed in science.

His talent being “seasonings” insinuates that he, much like Azul, has a very discerning palette, though we learn from Trey that Riddle―the recipient of many of his creations―does not.

He is always humble when complimented by others and downplays his achievements, perhaps to stay out of trouble by remaining as inconspicuous as possible at all times. In the Twisted Wonderland novel, it is specifically mentioned that the true extent of Trey’s unique magic was able to take Riddle by surprise because Riddle had never thought to pay attention to it.

Trey’s family runs a cake shop, and Trey is something of a pâtissier himself. He has a “You’ve got to put love into it” voice line in alchemy classes, but tells Jade that “love has nothing to do with” the cakes and tarts that he makes for his dorm’s Unbirthday parties.

Trey has a younger brother and a younger sister. He is very adept at making meatloaf because of how often they would request it when he still lived at home.

He is very big on oral hygiene and uses different toothbrushes for different parts of his mouth, even teaching his Heartslabyul underclassmen how to best brush their teeth. He expresses sincere delight in learning that Sebek’s father is a dentist and asks to one day be introduced. When Deuce explains that Trey’s “hobby” is brushing his teeth, Sebek responds, “no matter how important it is to him, making it into a hobby is bizarre!”

He is not especially good at or fond of sports, but he is one of the main members on the Heartslabyul spell drive team and used to play soccer when he was younger (because his parents wanted him to start building up the strength needed for candy-making).

In a homescreen voice line, he says he is not particularly flexible. He first discovered candied violets―his favorite food―when he was very young, and says that he was so amazed by the concept of edible flowers that he started trying to eat flowers found along the side of the road, causing much trouble to his parents.

Trey, Riddle and RSA’s Chenya were childhood friends, though Chenya and Trey were only able to meet Riddle to play, in secret, for a short few months as children. Trey invites the two over to his family’s shop for Riddle to taste the first strawberry tart he has ever had in his life, but when Riddle’s mother discovers that they have snuck out during Riddle’s self-study hour she bans Trey and Chenya from the house, locking Riddle’s window (from which he had been escaping) and forbidding them from ever seeing one another again.

The two would not reunite again until Riddle’s enrollment at NRC.

On the JPN-server (and in the manga) Riddle’s mother becomes “ten times angrier than Riddle” and lectures Trey's entire family at their shop “for five hours” while they apologize for Trey’s actions.

This childhood trauma was changed on the ENG-server translation, however, to Trey being lectured for those five hours by his own family.

It can be assumed that this (JPN-server-exclusive) history between the two is why Trey is so lenient with Riddle and his treatment of those around him, which can vary from objectively unfair to unnecessarily violent. Trey’s choosing to his ignore various, underlying issues and focus upon improving Riddle’s mood may have been the catalyst that ultimately led to Riddle’s overblot.

Throughout Book 1 Trey’s decisions are often the rational choice while also serving only as temporary stopgaps to keep trouble at bay, without resolving the actual problem at hand.

In a card vignette Kalim encourages him to speak his mind and not keep his opinions and grievances to himself, but he generally does not. While not malicious, this was likely hurting his relationship with Riddle more than bettering it. Trey did apologize to Riddle for the part he played in Riddle’s overblot, and their relationship seems to have improved since then.

When Epel tells Trey how he has heard how kind and caring he is from Ace and Deuce, Trey assures him, “I’m not a very good guy”.

Trey’s dislike of mustard came from a game he played in his childhood with Chenya, where they would eat cream puffs with a one-in-five chance of one being filled with mustard instead of cream. He selected the mustard-puff, and has hated mustard ever since.

In episode three of the official Disney Games YouTube Show "Good Boy!", hosted by Crewel's voice actor Itou Kento, Ito and Kalim's voice actor Furuta Kazuki discuss the scene in the original Alice in Wonderland animated movie where the queen discover the card soldiers painting her roses.

Here is a quote from Itou: "Those three cards (who were painting white roses red) were the Ace of Clovers, the two of clovers and the three of clovers. When asked why they were painting the roses, the three of clovers blames the two of clovers. Perhaps there is a similarity to the calculating nature of the three of clovers in that scene to Trey’s personality?"

Trey’s unique magic “Paint the Roses” (Pronounced as “Doodle Suit”) enables him to “overwrite” something for a brief period of time.

Due to the way the power was introduced (and thanks to Trey’s downplaying) it seemed at first like it was capable of only overwriting the taste of certain foods to make them taste like other foods, but at the end of Book 1 we learn that it is powerful enough to overwrite―to the point of practically nullifying―magic as strong as Riddle’s in overblot form.

Some great artists for Trey fan-art and more (SFW, no story spoilers) Various Trey

Master Chef Trey and Kalim

Just Trey

Pineapple Pen Trey (animated)

Voice Voice Trey’s voice actor Suzuki Ryota (鈴木崚汰) also provides the voice of Lucius in the game. His past work includes Ishigami Yu from Kaguya-sama: Love Is War, Takamizu Hayato from Hero's Park, Yukimaru from Fena: Pirate Princess, Klaus from Magatsu Wahrheit: Zuerst and Riheet from King's Raid: Successors of the Will.

More info here

Additional Fact Sheets ・Riddle Rosehearts ・Trey Clover・Cater Diamond ・Ace Trappola・Deuce Spade ・Leona Kingscholar ・Ruggie Bucchi ・Jack Howl ・Azul Ashengrotto・Floyd Leech・Jade Leech ・Kalim Al-Asim・Jamil Viper ・Vil Schoenheit・Rook Hunt ・Epel Felmier ・Idia Shroud・Ortho Shroud ・Malleus Draconia ・Silver・Sebek Zigvolt・Lilia Vanrouge ・Sam・Crewel・Trein・Vargas・Crowley

#twstcharactersheet #twisted wonderland #ツイステ #twst #Trey Clover #Youtube

[padfootdaredmetoo]

Hi it’s the Anon from earlier who asked about requests! It’s actually kinda funny because I first read you Mauraders fic and had never seen peaky blinders but after reading all your fics I started watching the show. I think this is the first time I start a show because of the fics and not the other way around lol. But anyways my idea was having a reader who speaks Multiple languages and so whenever she’s at meeting and rivals are trying to talk to each other without letting the Thomas know she just translates what they are saying into Romani. Like maybe one of the rivals are talking about double crossing Thomas but they say it in another language so the reader repeats what they are saying to Thomas. Idk if I’m making sense and don’t worry about how long it takes I know class can be overwhelming

Dear Anon,

I don't know what to say. I simply cannot believe that someone enjoyed my writing that much. Wow, I hope you have enjoyed the show, and thank you for writing in a request! Also thank you for being so considerate! School often leaves me so burnt out that I can barely manage school work. But I had a good time writing this one!

XOXO Jamie

Warnings: fight scene implied, violent themes, reference to past relationship abuse.

People often wondered what your involvement was with the notorious Shelby family. You were a university grad who used to work as a language tutor, from a decent family. It was a common question passed through the mouths of locals who saw you standing next to Thomas. 

What on earth is she doing with that man? 

The things they came up with often ran around the drinking table leading to endless bouts of laughter from you, Polly, Esme, and Ada. But even they didn’t fully understand how you ended up a part of the family. Only that Tommy needed you, and that you were to be trusted. It was enough for you to build close friendships. 

There were only two people that understood the full depth of the situation and that was you and Tommy. He’d told you to keep your involvement in the business secret, and in turn, he kept the reason you initially crossed paths with him a long-forgotten memory. 

You surveyed the men at the opposite side of the table. You wished that they would have chosen a better location. The large abandoned warehouse had little to no insulation and rain was falling through the cracks in the old wooden roof. Tommy pulled out the chair and motioned for you to sit down. You watched as the leader of the Italian gang silently protested your seat at the table. 

“Bold of him” One of the men whispered in Italian causing John's fist to clench. The last time he was involved with such families things didn't go as planned, making you all the more anxious to be out of there. 

“Mr. Shelby, thank you for meeting with us.” The man had seen better, well, younger years. From your research, he’d been retired for quite some time. 

“Pleasure is all mine.” He answered curtly. 

“We are hoping you might be interested in expanding your Gin business.” 

Coming out of retirement to go into the booze trade? Italians don't even drink Gin? 

“Always looking to expand the business,” Tommy responded hoping the man would get to the point. 

“We have certain connections in New York that may be worthwhile to you -” The man was interrupted by the sound of a phone ringing. You wondered how they even managed electricity in a building like this. He continued to drone on about some elaborate story while your mind was preoccupied with the man in the back. 

“It’s not our fault they showed up an hour late. Freezing our balls off out here.” He said in Italian.

“Yes sir, he seems to be interested in the deal. No, he showed up with his brothers and some chick.” 

“Well, it looks like it's going alright. He said he wanted to expand the business.”

“Look we understand what’s at stake you want him gone just as much as we do.”  

“Bye” 

You touched the tip of your ear then adjusted the pendant on the necklace, and recrossed your legs. 

“Just a moment“ He stated, he grabbed your arm and you were happy that he caught your message. 

You stood up and he placed his arm around your shoulders. You leaned up to him with a coy look on your face, lips upturned slightly as you both moved away from the table. You wanted it to look casual or flirtatious. 

“They want us dead.” You whispered in Romani.

He looked over you at John and gave him a nod. Tommy walked you out of the building and handed you the keys to the car. You didn't need him to tell you what to do. He turned around and joined the loud fight erupting from the barn. 

The adrenaline was moving through your blood and you found it impossible to settle sitting behind the wheel of the car. The rain was pouring down and you found the fogging glass all the more unsettling. 

It wasn't long till you saw the boys emerge from the barn. The old building was erupting into flames just as they reached the car. You slid across the front bench seat allowing Tommy to sit in the driver's seat. You quickly looked each of them over as he tore down the road. 

“Your all okay?!” You asked slightly frantically. 

“What the fuck did they say?” Tommy barked at you. 

“Just that someone was employing them to get to you. That they understood the importance because they also wanted you dead just as badly.” You blurted out, your hand instinctively grabbing his arm. 

“Fuck.” 

“Fucking pricks just won't quit,” Arthur stated crossing his arms. 

“Once we get back I need you to call the family in. I want everyone back at the betting shop till this clears up.” 

“That’s going to be a nightmare,” John mumbled under his breath. 

“You speak Italian?” Arthur said suspiciously.

“She speaks just about everything Arthur, that’s why she’s here,” Tommy said sighing at the obvious. 

“So that’s what you do,” John said absently. 

“What do you mean that’s what she does?” He snapped back 

“Well, I just assumed she was around for other reasons.” John shrugged and Arthur let out a chuckle. 

“She’s a language tutor, she comes with us to deal with foreign business.” He said tensely. “What did you tell them you do?” 

Your face flushed with the attention on you now. 

“-Uh- Well I tell them I do whatever you ask me to do and leave it at that. Thought it was top secret.” 

John and Arthur both started to howl with laughter as Tommy’s face twisted up. 

“That explains a few things.” He said under his breath.

____________________________________________

He’d helped you pack up some necessities before driving you over to the cramped apartment. 

Tommy insisted you stay with the family, especially once finding out that whoever was on the other end of that phone call knew you were present at the meeting. A precaution. 

Polly was sharing her room with Ada and her children. John, Esme, and the little ones in his old room. Arthur shared with Finn and Michale. 

Leaving you to the couch, or at least that’s what you assumed. Tommy passed the small living room and continued up the worn stairs.

“Here we go. You can take the bed, and I’ll stay downstairs.” 

“It’s fine, it’s big enough to share.” You said easily, not thinking it could imply other things. You were tired and well, most business meetings flopped but they had never exploded before. Or left Tommy with such a worrying presence. Being next to him felt safe, and that's what you needed to get to sleep. Win, win. 

You stretched and opened your bag, pulling your nightgown out. You excused yourself to go to the bathroom and quickly changed. Your clothes were still damp, and your skin was covered in goose flesh as you slipped into your nightgown. You quickly pulled your robe around you trying to find some sense of warmth. 

You made it upstairs and saw Tommy laying on the edge of the bed, you climbed over him to the inside. He’d put the fire on and you were grateful for the extra quilt on your side of the bed. Shivering you pressed your cold feet into the side of his leg. 

“Jesus woman!” He jumped slightly but allowed your closeness. 

“Sorry! You're the reason I’ve been shivering all day - the least you could do is - ” 

“The Italians are the reason you’ve been shivering.” He corrected.

“They wouldn't be after me if you had cleaned this up ages ago.” 

“Mhmm.” 

“Is that so?” he asked. 

“Well, best put you in charge then, eh?” He said pulling you against his chest. 

“Things would run much smoother if that was the case.” You said, his proximity having a noticeable effect on the tone of your voice. 

You let out a huff as you felt your body settle against him. Thinking everything through, you wondered why he had you tenderly placed in his arms. Not exactly the usual place of a languages expert. You were just a translator, it was doubtful you even needed to stay with them for protection. 

“Tommy?” You asked softly. 

“Yes?”

“Why am I here?” You struggled to get the words above a whisper. 

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” He said easily. 

“Why?” 

“Maybe I want you around for a long while.” 

“For business or for - more?” 

He didn't respond for a long moment and embarrassment set in quickly. 

“More. But we can worry about that in the morning.” 

You didn't trust yourself to speak, your body felt the need to discover what more meant immediately. Your memories flashed back to why you ended up with him in the first place and conflict made its home in your mind. 

“Won’t be like last time. I won’t be like him.” He said softly running a hand down your back. 

“You sure you want more?” You knew he’d seen the damage that had been done. It was painted all over you when you had initially asked him for help. Pink, black, and blue, he’d agreed to help you by offering you employment. But really he’d given you life. A family to replace the one that caused all that pain, money, a way to have your own space. People avoided you, your family too scared to approach you. 

“Very.” 

You took a breath and felt calm in the knowledge that he cared for you just as much as you cared for him. You fell asleep to his fingers running through your hair. 

You fell in love with him more as the days went on. Him making you tea in the morning, the way his family pestered him about the effort he made to make you comfortable. The world was closing in on the family and yet he still had time to pull you onto his lap to teach you how to play his hand at cards. It was a bad situation but Thomas took it for the opportunity that it was. 

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