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#usually in any sort of math class throughout all of school there are more guys doing better and going into better classes
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🏀, 🌻 and ♟️ for the oc f/o ask game?? :D
Hiii tyy for the ask!! I'll be answering for my oc f/o, Jordan Dayes!!
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🏀 - does your oc f/o stay active? do they like working out or playing sports? if so, what kind of exercise do they like to do?
Jordan isn't really a sports or gym type of guy. He mostly stays somewhat in shape via his long walks/hikes through the forest about 10 minutes walking from his house. He also just walks to most places that are close enough to do so in general. As a result, he maintains a fairly fit figure, albeit a bit soft around the middle <333
🌻 - what flower do you associate with your oc f/o? is there any particular reason, such as the meaning or the aesthetic?
Tulips!! I decided awhile ago that his favorite flowers are tulips, specifically the red ones!! Otherwise, just any red flower is a welcome gift. Interestingly enough, he prefers tulips to roses… No specific meaning, really, it came to me in a vision/j
♟️- how smart is your oc f/o? is it academic smarts, emotional smarts, etc? where does your oc f/o thrive and where do they lack?
CW: semi detailed discussion of murder and other stuff involving human death (nothing super graphic tho)
Oh he is very very smart. He always excelled in all of his math and science classes in high school and then in university. As such he easily could've gone into any field of science he wanted. He always had a sort of Renaissance man type of mindset, thinking he could do a number of areas of science. He had such a hard time picking; there's just so much to learn and know! By the end of his first four years of college, he had narrowed it down to two: mycology and forensic medical science.
He ended up going to medical school to follow forensic medicine as a career but independently pursued studying mycology in his own time.
His social etiquette leaves much to be desired, however. He is awkward and strange and most people find him pretty offputting. He's not trying to be creepy, but the fact is, most people don't wanna hear about the various dissections he completed throughout his higher education!
Though, to the general population's credit, those who found him creepy did end up having every justification. They just didn't know it. See, somewhere along the line of his career as a forensic medical examiner, he started stealing corpses. Yea, I know. He'd thought he'd stumbled across some fascinating new revelation or other about fungi and its relation to human biology and he just needed to test it out.
He kept at it and eventually he'd been stealing dead people for his experiments for 5 years.
Then he got caught. And subsequently fired. Though, he did avoid any charges sticking in court.
None of that deterred him. In fact, it may have only emboldened him. Without a steady source of corpses, he started graverobbing. He quickly found, however, that most of the bodies obtained this way had decomposed far too much for any effective science to be done with the remains.
So he came to the very sane and logical conclusion that he had to start killing people to keep getting more necrotic material.
It was not a common occurrence for him to kill. He only did it when he'd completely exhausted his supply of dead human tissue, which tended to happen every couple of months. So, he isn't like. constantly murdering people. (obviously that doesn't make it better, but for context lol)
He was always very methodical about killing. It was never an emotional thing, he wasn't angry and it didn't give him a particular rush or joy or anything like that. It was an extremely calculated process by which he selected a 'candidate' and cased them for a few weeks, usually three or less before actually killing them. Viable 'candidates' were generally hikers (often out in areas secluded enough for him to get away with it undetected) and other people foolish enough to explore the woods near his house.
So yea, science/math smart and… well .. smart about murder too ig
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quirklessidiot · 3 years
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title : cigarettes and parfaits [3] pairing : older!nanami kento x younger!reader [13 year age gap, ft toji fushiguro] Genre: romance, fluff, slice of life, josei, angst, comedy, strangers to lovers au
Summary: you’re pretty sure you’d remember marrying a man 13 years older than you, right?
Warnings: alcohol, smoking, mild smut, y/n making stupid decisions, everyones a human-au so yeh non-canon stuff and everyone’s happy (periODT) i keep forgeting to add that this isnt beta-rread..all of my stories arent so yeah shshs Notes: ah, i feel like this story will be lengthen more than 8-10 chapters shshshs i wanted to add a little spice anyways thanks for all the comments uwu ily all!
Masterlist || taglist || [prev ; next] [updates; every saturday!]
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“Y/N-chan!!!”
You cringe in embarrassment as soon as you hear that awfully familiar and cheerful voice, you could barely remember this man and the events that transpired the night before but here he was, acting like your new best friend. You weren’t even sure if you wanted to go here but you needed clarity. Surely you didn’t just legally marry a man at an Izakaya out of all places last night?
“Oh, you actually did marry him.” Gojo Satoru proclaims as soon as you take a seat across him, he gestures around his face, “I could tell by your whole, ‘I hope this guy is messing with me’ face. You have it, signed and sealed. Even got the cute matchy rings that I had one of my assistants delivered.”
You pale at the thought of his assistant coming in with a silver ring. Wasn’t he sober? How could he not have stopped you two from doing something as reckless and stupid as this? Weren’t older men supposed to be more responsible than this?
“Why the hell didn’t you stop us?” You groaned, burying your face in your hands, embarrassment painted all over your features.
“I was just as drunk as you two.” He confessed, scratching his head, “probably even more drunk but anyways back to the topic in hand, I only remembered it when the same assistant came in and congratulated me about it. It’s good I had your number on my phone before you two bailed.”
“So you don’t really remember?”
“Bits and pieces.” Gojo grinned, this guy was a maniac, how did the serious man you met just this morning have friends like this? You probably wouldn’t even last long, “I did call Nanami-”
He’s cut off by the rough sound of someone pulling a chair out, you immediately jump on your seat when you realize it’s Nanami Kento, the guy from this morning. The man you had recklessly married!
“This better be some prank you’re pulling, Satoru.” His voice was anything but kind that you almost wanted to hide behind Gojo’s back.
“Hey, hey.” Gojo raises his hands, “Don’t look at me. I didn’t force you into anything and stop scaring your poor little partner.”
Nanami snaps his gaze towards you and you notice how his eyes soften just a bit when he sees your red ears and your eyes looking away from him, “You better call Geto and fucking fix this, I refuse to bother this young-”
“It’s fine.” You cut him off, still shy and red, “It’s...fine...I just…Please don’t think I’m burdened by it. It was technically my fault for even agreeing immediately.”
Nanami clenches his jaw and turns away, “Nevertheless. L/N-san’s young. I hope to not be such an uncouth man like you.” he retorts, voice sharp as he eyes the white-haired businessman up and down. Gojo, seemingly used to it, rolls his eyes behind his dark shades.
“Maybe you guys should try it out.”
The blonde man looks like he’s about to smite the white-haired man out of existence yet Satoru remains oblivious to his friend’s gaze, “Don’t ya think so? It will take a while for those divorce papers to settle in so why don’t you two go out and get to know each other? Who knows…” he sing-songs the last part and Nanami is so close to chunking his briefcase towards the tall businessman, not even caring 
“Ah, he’s not exactly wrong, Nanami-san.” you try to calm him down, placing a small hand on his broad shoulder.
“Don’t tell me you’re actually listening to this idiot’s idea.” Nanami replied, gaze narrowing.
“Not really but you have some problems I can help you out on and I have problems that you can help me out on...Of course, the last say is on you...”
“Told you I actually had a brain.” Satoru piped in.
“Shut up, Satoru.” he quips, then turns to you, “I’m thirteen years older than you, L/N-san. I have two high school kids that could pass off as your siblings, and-”
“Well, I technically did marry you.”
“You were drunk.”
“Doesn’t exactly really excuse it.” You laugh nervously, “The whole divorce process usually lasts up to a few months, some even takes a whole year. I could help you out with the boys and I can use you to ward my family off from moving back home.”
Nanami is quiet for a moment, actually thinking about it. Weighing the pros and the cons, not only would you be able to help him out but you’d also be able to get Gojo and blind-dating out of his back.
There really wasn’t anything he could loose, really.
“Or you two might fall in love.” Satoru teases, making Nanami throw him another side-eye, as if saying ‘I dare you to say another word.’
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It’s a Thursday today and Sukuna absolutely loathed Thursdays     apparently because it reminded him of Mondays, Tuesdays, and Wednesdays. They all were far from the weekend     Everyone seems to be happier than usual though. Maybe it was because you were there teaching some basic shit at the board or something.
“...and if we transfer this here and change the positive to a negative, you’ll end up having five as your answer.” You smile, placing your chalk down, “Does anyone have any questions?”
Echoes of no’s resonated throughout the room.
“Alright then, let’s end the lesson here so you guys can have an early lunch. I don’t think an assignment is in order since many of you were able to get a perfect score in the activity awhile ago.” You winked. A couple of whoops resonated throughout the whole class right after. 
As the kids shuffle out of the room of the class, Sukuna remains behind. The ojisan had cooked them something delicious this morning and he wanted to eat it in peace without that pesky Nobara grabbing a share from his bento and Yuuji’s annoying babbles about horror movies with his best friend Junpei (the only one who was really bearable was Megumi, really)
“Sukuna-kun?” you called out, snapping him out of his small trance,  “Are you alright?”
He notices a glint of worry in your eyes, he had to admit since his transfer here last Monday, you were the least annoying teacher in the academy     the blue-haired professor in Japanese literature was absolute shit since he loved to tease him a lot and that bald-headed teacher in science who looked a lot like Mike Wazowski was an annoying twerp who loved dawdling in him and Yuuji’s business     and you were kind of good at your job. Not only did his idiot of a brother stop coming to him and their ojisan for help in math but he could actually do the worksheets right and get an actual decent grade at it.
“Yeah.” he roughly replies.
“That’s good.” You smiled, he watched as you bind their worksheets together and clip them in utmost delicacy, “You should head to the cafeteria now, I heard they’re serving milk bread today.”
Without saying anything more, you left the room, leaving him there in the silence.
Well, the Christmas tree idiot was right.
You kind of had a motherly aura on you and it didn’t even look forced.
No wonder, everyone in this room was whipped for you despite your subject being a pain in the ass.
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“You look like an idiot.” You mumbled as you slapped Mahito’s hand away in annoyance, your workmate wiggling his eyebrows like the little shit he is.
You completely forgot you did have someone like Gojo Satoru in your life and it was one of your co-workers, Mahito, a Japanese literature teacher who was too nosy for his own good.
“You’ve got a ring on your ring finger and a mailman comes in and gives you an invite for Zen’in Toji’s fortieth birthday.” he whistles, “Even Jogo-sensei gossiped by the water cooler awhile ago, saying that you had eloped with the man. Not that I’m judging you or anything...”
You choke on your saliva, clearly thrown off by the backhanded comment. That darn bald-headed fool that looked like the green eyed monster from the DreamWorks cartoon, he sure needed to lay off the gossip and actually focus on his job as the head of the science department, “You’re not denying it.” Mahito stated, narrowing his eyes in suspicion, “Why aren’t you denying it?”
“I’m not dating Megumi-kun’s father.” You grumbled, finishing up your paperwork, “That man is off limits.”
“Right,” he drawls on sarcastically, “...because you have a strict rule against dating hot older men with money.”
“I also teach his kids and his cousin…” You deadpan.
“We don’t even have a rule against that.” He retorts, rolling his eyes, “If we did, Hanami-sensei would’ve been fired a long time ago.”
“You’re an asshole.”
“And you’re so secretive. If it isn’t Toji Zen’in, who’d ask you out?”
“Hey, I do have a man.” You huffed, “and he’s very kind and considerate...”
The image of the tall and lean man sleeping next to you slowly wormed its way back from your memory and you feel your cheeks start to flush. Good god, what were you? twelve? How embarrassing.
You needed to get that image off of your head, it wasn’t right.
It was all temporary, anyways and he doesn’t even see you in that sort of way-
“Yes, I’m Sukuna and Yuuji Itadori’s guardian…” a very familiar stoic voice could be heard from the nearby table, cutting your thoughts short. Wait, were you so head over heels for the man that you started imagining him here? Yuuji and Sukuna’s guardian? Wait a minute.
All color drained from your face as you snap your head behind you to find the same man you were imagining.
Oh no.
Oh no, indeed.
There stood Nanami Kento in all his glory;  crisp suit, stoic face, and eyes laced with mild worry.
“...L/N-sensei is Sukuna-kun’s adviser, by the way. It would be best to discuss this with them.” Akari somberly informed the man, turning to your direction. You don’t miss the shift of expressions when he sees you standing there.
Your mouth parts and you know you look like gawking fish trapped in a small aquarium.
“Akari-sensei’s looking at you with the new hot daddy.” Mahito mumbles next to you, eyeing him up and down, “Definitely wonder where all these old men come from these days.”
You were only half-listening to your co-worker because your head was all over the place, just what were the odds that he was the guardian of the new transferee’s? Just how awkward would everything be? Why did it even have to be at this school out of all places?
Never ending questions pop out of your head as you approached them, “Good afternoon, Nanami-san.” Your smile comes out very stiff and awkward while you hold your hand out for him to shake, clearly there was no memo on how you were suppose to act around your sort-of-fake-husband-whos-kids-you-actually-taught.
Nanami reverts back to his stoic expression as he clears his throat, “Yes, good afternoon to you too, L/N-sensei.” he greets, maintaining a straight-laced tone.
“Akari-sensei says that Sukuna has been quite...rude...in class…” you try to rack your brains up to describe his kid.
“Your son literally pointed out that the history lesson I was teaching was fake and that I should study again so he could get his tuition’s worth.” Akari looks clearly perplexed and ready to throttle the boy if it was legal. You had to admit, Sukuna went overboard with that insult.
You knew how passionate Nitta was about her job and what Sukuna just said to her was like a big ‘fuck you, you suck.’ to her.
“I’ll be sure to talk to him about this,” he sighs, bowing down, “I’d like to ask for forgiveness for that, the boy is a good and smart student-”
“Nanami-san, the school not only cares about grades but character as well.” Akari Nitta sighed, cutting him off, “I’ll let this slide once, if he does that again, it goes on the record.”
You internally bit your cheek, still trying to process everything that was going on.
“I understand. Thank you for that.”
“I’ll walk him out, sensei.” You immediately say soon after, wanting to have some alone time with him, “Let’s go, Nanami-san.”
You walk right next to him silently, some students peerlessly glancing at the tall blonde next to you but you were too immersed in thought to notice the stares, “Nanami-san?” you ask softly as soon as you reach the exit.
Nanami Kento looks at you, his eyes still laced with a bit of worry, “It’s okay.” you silently comforted him, “Just talk to him calmly.”
“That’s not the problem.” he sighed, “I just didn’t expect that the person I married would be the boy’s teacher.”
You sweat drop, “Aren’t you worried about talking to Sukuna? I mean, he literally just disrespected a teacher and you said that he and you weren’t in good-”
“It’s easier to talk to him about that rather than…” he paused, showing his ring, “this.”
You blinked.
Seemed like Nanami knew what to say about the little attitude problem his son had, “So you must be used to this?” you asked, “Him disrespecting the teacher?”
You notice the shift of expressions on his face, you had only known this man for a few days so far but he was starting to get easier to read. His eyes shed more emotion than his face, no wonder he likes wearing those funny sunglasses a lot.
“It’s something I’ve scolded him over a couple of times,” he gruffed, trying to dance around the subject, it seemed like he had such a soft spot to the point where he had a problem with disciplining them, “At times I believe it’s just because he’s way too smart for his age. The boy has read history books for fun when he was a kid and solved quadratic equations to prove that he’s better than me when he was ten.”
“It still doesn’t give him the free pass to say things like that to a teacher”
“I know,” he acknowledged, “I’ll be sure to give him a better scolding-”
“No, you see. This is why he thinks he can get away with it. He isn’t afraid of you. You’ll only probably tell him that you can’t do that.” you frown, crossing your arms, “You do know that not all sensei’s are as nice as Akari-sensei and he could get in trouble for that even more in the future, right?”
Silence lingered between you two for a moment and suddenly you realize that you must’ve said something way off the rails.
“I..” you turn red, embarrassed by the sudden outburst, “That was too much, wasn’t it?”
You look at him directly in the eye, the worry-filled ones are now replaced with a softer gaze. God, he really needed to stop looking at you like a kid. It would only make this set-up more awkward!
“No,” he mumbles, “It...It wasn't too much…”
“Oh.” you cleared your throat, flustered and looking away from his face, “Well, okay then goodbye then Nanami-sa-”
You needed to get out of this conversation quick.
“Kento.”
Your gaze snaps directly towards him, clearly taken aback by the correction.
“What?”
“We’re technically married now, right?” he softly corrected, “Call me Kento.”
“Oh,” You uttered again, this time softly. You looked down on your shoes, it seemed like the floor looked really interesting now, “Then bye-bye, Kento.”
“Bye Y/N.”
He leaves you standing there, cursing yourself because of your erratic heartbeat at the way he says your name in that voice. First name basis? okay, totally normal for sort-of lovers, right?
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taglist [if crossed out, i can’t tag u ; - ;]
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pascalpanic · 3 years
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Conferences (Maxwell Lord/Lorenzano x f!teacher!Reader)
Summary: Alistair Lorenzano is a third grader in your class, whom you absolutely adore. Upon meeting his father, Maxwell, you suddenly have much more interest in the Lorenzano family. Set after WW84.
W/C: 2.9k
Warnings: language, flirting, talk of divorce and trauma, lots of talk of children and such, especially Alistair. brief nondescript mentions of Maxwell’s shitty childhood. uh. Spoilers for The Great Gatsby lmao
A/N: well! I haven’t written for max in a long time but the ship request (which are CLOSED) i received here really made me inspired! hope u guys like it :)
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Alistair Lorenzano was a joy to have in class. You mean it too, not like when you don’t have a comment for a child’s report card and you just stick that phrase on the bottom. No, Alistair is a genuinely good kid.
The little dark haired boy walked in proudly on the first day, even as none of the other children came over to say hello or pal around with him. He seemed lonely, but he marched up to your desk and placed a beautiful apple on the desk, giving you a gap-toothed grin and introducing himself with a handshake. Alistair didn’t talk to his other classmates much that day, or any other day really. He was usually preoccupied with a book of some sort.
He sits alone at lunch and recess, usually burying his nose in a book as the other children play. He’s progressed quite quickly, reading big wordy books the other fourth graders surely couldn’t handle. When a child has no one to play with, Alistair will sit with them and talk. He’ll always help a struggling classmate with their long division or come up with a good synonym for them. He rarely raises his hand, but he’s almost always correct.
He’ll come in early most mornings. He doesn’t talk much about his family, but he says his dad works early in the morning and that he has to drop him off earlier. That’s fine with you; the kid is a good conversationalist and will read quietly while you arrange lesson plans or grade spelling tests.
You wonder what his family is like. All you know about his father is that he works early in the morning. His mother has dropped him off late several times, but that always led to more early mornings; presumably his father’s doing.
As a teacher, you tend to shy away from family-based assignments. You’re fully aware that some of your students won’t want to share what their parents do for a living, or talk about them at all. That’s why you don’t know much about the Lorenzano family- you don’t ask and Alistair doesn’t share.
Conferences are approaching soon as you approach the midpoint of the first semester. Most parents don’t come if their children are doing well; typically, only the parents of struggling children make appearances. That’s why you’re surprised to read the note Alistair hands you when he walks in, thirty minutes before class begins, as always.
You frown reading the little note of paper, pushing your glasses up your nose. “You’re sure that your father needs a conference?” You ask the little boy. He looks confused. “I’d love to meet him,” you say hurriedly, sipping your morning coffee. “It’s just that… you’re a very smart kid, Alistair. Usually it’s the parents of kids who don’t do so well that sign up for conferences.”
Alistair shrugs, taking off his puffy fall jacket and hanging it on his hook near your desk. “I don’t know. Dad just said he wanted that time,” he says, pointing at your paper.
Dramatically uncapping a colored flare pen, you make a show out of writing down the name for your 7:30 time slot: Mr Lorenzano. “Well, I will see your dad then,” you tell the kid with a smile. He seems pleased that you’re excited. “What’s his name?”
“Maxwell,” Alistair informs you, sitting at his desk and cracking open his book.
You repeat the name, writing it down in the purple pen you chose. “Your family has very elegant names,” you tease Alistair.
Alistair shrugs. “Dad likes to sound fancy.”
-
Maxwell has never met you, but he feels that he knows you like an old friend. Alistair absolutely adores you, tells his father about you at any chance he gets.
You sound wonderful. He supposes that Alistair would adore any female figure in his life right now. Vanessa, the former Mrs. Lord, has all but rejected her son. When Alistair would spend time at her place, she’d practically ignore her own kid, prioritizing whatever she wanted to do. Several days, Alistair was late to or completely missed school thanks to Vanessa’s ignorance.
That’s why Maxwell has taken nearly full custody now. Vanessa didn’t argue it. She was glad to have Alistair out of her hair. Besides, she resented Maxwell for endless reasons, usually unfounded. She wanted to see him struggle.
But Maxwell thrived. Alistair and his father are as close as can be. Maxwell now works a menial job, after the whole Dreamstone fiasco, but he’s managing to make ends meet. When they have enough money left over, he’ll take Alistair to the movies or buy him a new lego kit.
Maxwell hasn’t found love since Vanessa, but he thinks you might be the one for him. One could call him a hopeless romantic; his heart builds and breaks as easily as a wave on the shore. You sound so nurturing and lovely, so wonderful to the one Maxwell loves most. That’s partially why he scheduled the conference with you.
The other part was that Alistair is a budding genius in Maxwell’s eyes. He flies through thick books day in and day out, and Max wants to accommodate the skills in his son. He constantly tells him how proud of him he is, but he wants to make sure he can keep helping him learn.
On the day of the conference, Maxwell is nervous. Why is he nervous? He combs his closet several times to find one of the nice suits from his glory days, but decides it to be ridiculous. He’s not sure how much Alistair tells you about his family, but he’s sure you know he is no longer the television personality Max Lord. Instead, he settles for a dress shirt and pants, tossing on a light jacket over it. The fall air is turning crisp, especially in the evenings.
Doña Gloria from next door knocks on the door at promptly 7:00, and Alistair pops up to answer it. He loves the old woman, and wraps her in a big hug. Gloria walks inside the apartment, grinning at the sight of Maxwell’s outfit. “Ah, making a good impression on the boy’s teacher,” she nods in approval.
“Hoping to,” he nods and adjusts the suede jacket over his lapels, fidgeting with the zipper. “Alistair, why don’t you go find that game you wanted to play with Doña Gloria?”
The child runs off obediently and the woman straightens his collar for him. “Little Maxie has a crush,” she sings.
“Gloria,” he frowns as he messes with the cuffs. “I’ve never even met the woman.”
She gives a knowing smile. “But you know her. You know her through Alistair, all his stories. I’m sure she will love you, mijo.”
“Well, it doesn’t matter,” he sighs and pats his pockets, checking for his wallet. “She’s Alistair’s teacher. I can’t just-“
“You can do whatever the hell you want, Mr. Lorenzano,” the woman chuckles and reassures him. “Go get her.”
He shakes his head. “It’s a conference, not a date,” he says as he walks towards the door.
“It can be both!” Is the last thing he hears before he shuts the door, making him laugh.
-
Conferences, as always, are a pain in the ass. You sit and make small talk with parents, discussing their child’s skills with their times table versus their writing proficiency, their standardized test scores and how they stack up.
As the night passes, you grow more frazzled. Your hair, neatly tucked back, falls out in strands, and your glasses seem to slide down your nose more and more often. Some parents verbally abuse you for their children’s poor scores on their science test. Others try to get to know you a little too personally. All part of a day’s work.
A hopeful smile dares to peek out as you read your schedule and arrange your sampling of Alistair’s works. You’re eager to meet his father, to meet the man Alistair so rarely talks about but clearly adores.
There’s a knock on your classroom door at 7:30 on the dot. Shoving your glasses up your nose one time, you hurry to the door and allow the man in. “Hi, nice to meet you, Mr. Lorenzano,” you tell him and shake his hand, leading him to your desk.
Something about him seems familiar. He’s very attractive, that’s something. He doesn’t have his son’s dark, nearly black hair, but rather a light brown with bits of blonde interjected throughout. He has his son’s deep brown eyes, and his very presence makes you smile. He looks put together, dressed similarly to other fathers you’ve seen tonight.
You tuck your skirt under you as you sit in your chair. The man’s voice is smooth and beautiful as he speaks. “It’s nice to meet you as well. Alistair talks endlessly about you at home.”
Smiling, you shuffle some of his papers. The man is distractingly handsome, you find as you scramble to grab Alistair’s math test. “Well, he’s a very special kid. I adore having him in my class, truly. Your son is going places, Mr. Lorenzano.”
“Please, Max,” he shakes his head, producing something from a pocket. “Oh, and… for you.”
The sight makes you nearly laugh, but instead you break into a grin. The man’s large hand holds a shiny red apple, perfectly shaped. “Thank you,” you laugh and set it on your desk. “You know, I have no idea where that silly custom comes from.”
“I should ask Alistair,” Maxwell chuckles, his face heating as he takes in the beauty of your smile. “He knows so much. It wouldn’t be a stretch for him to know that.”
Nodding, you hand over an assortment of Alistair’s schoolwork and artwork. “He really does. I appreciate having a fellow avid reader in my class. He’s so bright, it’s… wild, really. Do you or… Mrs. Lorenzano,” you say, treading lightly, “do anything supplementary that advances his learning?”
Max looks down at the papers. “Well, she isn’t Mrs. Lor- Lorenzano anymore,” he shakes his head, his eyes not meeting yours for a moment. He stumbles, nearly using his former business name of Lord. “But no. I have nearly full custody of Alistair, and he flies through books. It’s absurd,” the man laughs, his pride in his eyes as he looks at you. “I mean, neither of us were ever as smart as this. I don’t know where he got it from.”
You frown at that. “You seem very smart, Max. May I ask what you do for a living?”
His brow furrows. “Alistair hasn’t told you?”
You shake your head, adjusting your glasses. God, Maxwell wants to do that for you, push them up your nose or better yet, take them off and kiss you deeply. “I don’t push kids to talk about their home lives. Some don’t want to share,” you shrug.
“I wish I would’ve had a teacher like you in my day,” he chuckles sadly. “I... well, I work currently for a corporate office in Arlington. It’s nothing very exciting, or anything that requires skill.”
You shrug, smiling a little. “It must be an important job or they wouldn’t pay you to do it.”
His chuckle is a little more upbeat. “I suppose. I just… my family was very poor when I was a child. I don’t want Alistair to feel ashamed that I don’t make as much money as his other classmates. Tell me, he doesn’t seem very social. Is he…?”
You want to phrase it properly, so you stutter for a moment. “Well, to put it plainly, no. Alistair does not talk much with his classmates. He’s a very quiet boy, as I’m sure you know. It’s not that they ostracize him, but rather that he chooses to be alone. He’s always reading rather than playing soccer or whatever,” you shrug. “It’s most certainly not exclusion on the basis of… having less money.”
Maxwell’s shoulders relax a little. “Well, I’m glad. Honestly, I don’t mind that he’s quiet. I’m glad he’s learning.”
“I’d usually disagree, but I have to say the same,” you chuckle. “He’s a really good kid, Max. You should be proud to have him as a son. Don’t tell anyone, but he’s my favorite student.”
He’s absolutely beaming with pride. “That’s all I could ask for. Thank you.”
“Of course! How could I not love that kid?” you chuckle as you admire a drawing Alistair made of a scene from his favorite book. “Was that all you wanted to talk about?” You ask, unsure if he had more concerns.
Maxwell’s almost startled by the question. “Oh! Yes, I got sidetracked,” he chuckles, pushing his hair out of his eyes. He’s painfully beautiful, and his laugh makes you laugh in return. It’s safe to say you really like the Lorenzano family. “He just goes through book after book, it’s endless. Do you have any recommendations for continued reading? I want him to keep going like this, truly.”
Tapping a pen against your gradebook, you think on it for a moment. “I guess the best way would be positive reinforcement, but not reward. If you, say, incentivized it, he might see it as a chore to earn the money or toy or whatever.”
Maxwell nods as he listens, a small smile on his face as he listens to your voice and intellect. Yes, his theory earlier was correct. He does have a crush on you. “Naturally.”
“So, my recommended course of action would really just be praise and support. Tell him you’re proud of him. Offer to take him to the library to pick out some more. Those little things mean more to a kid than we can know.”
Max does know, actually. He knows because he was deprived of them as a child, because he tries to use them as often as he can so Alistair never feels the way he felt. “I can most definitely do that.”
“Great,” you nod, fidgeting with the stem of the apple in front of you. “If he ever wants to do more math or puzzles or such, the library has lots of great resources for that as well. I also have lots of worksheets I could send home with him.”
“If I can tear him away from that book,” Maxwell chuckles. “Do you have any favorites? You mentioned you read a lot.”
“Oh, god,” you laugh, and Maxwell is enchanted by the sound. “There are too many options! My favorite book of all time would probably have to be the Great Gatsby. I love the classics.”
Maxwell’s smile turns bittersweet. Jay Gatsby’s life reminds him far too much of his own for comfort now. Before, he’d call himself a Gatsby in reference to lavish parties and living large. Now, he feels like Gatsby dead in the water. “Wonderful book,” he nods. “F. Scott Fitzgerald is a literary mastermind.”
“Do you read too?” You ask, intrigued. His personality shows more and more and you’re desperate for even more of it.
He shakes his head. “Not as much as Alistair, I’m afraid, but when I have the time.”
You grin. “My plans for tonight are to go home and read with some takeout. No one to disturb me or anything. I’m very much a homebody, so it’s usually just me and my gradebook and my houseplants. Takeout is the most excitement I get. I’m looking forward to working through this book though; I’m currently reading Wilde.”
“Ah, what book?”
“Picture of Dorian Gray,” you smile and look down at your tote bag with the book tucked into the side. “If I have any brainpower left. Most of these conferences are energy-suckers.”
“How many do you have left?” He asks, curious.
“You’re the last of the night, actually,” you chuckle and cross your arms on the desk, looking over at him and silently hoping he reads your interest.
“The night you have planned sounds lovely, I must say,” Maxwell chuckles. “I do love takeout, but I know of a wonderful place near here. I… we could go get dinner, if you’d like.”
Tilting your head to the side, you scrunch your nose to push your glasses back up. “That sounds wonderful, Max. It’s nice to converse with someone who isn’t 9 years old for a while. And someone so interesting,” you openly flirt now that you can tell he’s picking up on your messages.
“Me? Hardly,” he shakes his head and laughs. “I’m sure you have much more fascinating stories than me.”
“I am a third grade teacher, Max,” you laugh. “If you want stories that involve boogers, the ever-present cooties, and long division, I’m your gal, but it hardly extends past that.”
“I guess we’ll just have to find out. Do you like Italian food?”
“I love it,” you grin. “Does that mean wine?”
“Always,” Maxwell says in a mockingly offended voice, as if you’d even dare to ask such a thing, with a look of disgust.
“Thank fucking god,” you laugh before clapping a hand over your mouth. “Oh shit. Oh-“ you wince as you try to cover your curse with another curse. “Sorry. When school hours are out, I can’t hold back any longer.”
“No need to,” he assures you. “A woman like you could do whatever she wants and I’d be happy to just be in her presence.”
“Mr. Lorenzano,” you tease. “This is a parent-teacher conference!”
“Then let’s head to dinner and continue this in a nonprofessional capacity, shall we?” He asks, standing and pushing back his rolling chair.
“That sounds great,” you smile. Alistair’s father sure is something. Yes, you certainly like the Lorenzano family.
-
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ohmy7hearts · 3 years
Text
spring gale
Summary: Spring means new beginnings but a gale (a storm more like?) in the name of Shinazugawa Sanemi blows your plans out and throw your once peaceful life into the winds.
Pairings: Shinazugawa Sanemi x Fem!Reader // future Shinazugawa Genya x SisterFigure!Reader 
A/N: this,,, is v impromptu. i literally got out of my bed bc it has been bugging me with how little sanemi fanfics there are, esp modern aus. tbh, there have been plenty of fics brewing in my mind and tell me if there’s any you’d be interested in and maybe i will return from my hiatus hah:
 - zhongli modern au: adepti babies being your adopted children and navigating parenthood 
- unknown pairing as of now but travelers being your kids so transporting yourself into the world to find them after 500+ years of not returning home 
- etc involving atsumu, diluc, childe but if you have any requests, feel free to drop it in and maybe i’ll consider them
Warnings: Some cursing (I mean it’s Sanemi lolol)
“Shinazugawa-san?” Sanemi glanced up, his hands continued packing away his things into the bag, an eyebrow raised. You smiled, hands folded over the other in front of you, as you continued to speak after gaining his attention. “When would you be free to do the project?”
He sighed, throwing his bag over his shoulder, while making his way out of the classroom - tone and body language showing his disinterest in the conversation. “We can just do it in class.”
You jogged to get into step next to him, “Well, it is for the bare minimum. I’m sure we can do much better than that.” You observed his side profile to see if any emotion could give way to what he was thinking. You frowned, frustration creeping up on you, “I understand that we’re not each other’s first choice in partners but that’s not an excuse to not do our best.”
“Are grades and studying the only thing in that airhead of yours?” His eyes flit towards yours for a moment before returning its gaze forward. “I don’t fucking have as much free time as you.”
You stopped following him. A bolt of anger and disbelief had your mouth dropping and hands curling into shaking fists. You scoffed, voice raising with each word, “I believe you need this more than me, Shinazugawa-san. Unless you want to continue being a pain in everyone’s ass and eventually not even graduate, then be my guest.” 
He swiveled towards you. You flinched reactively. He faltered, face momentarily flitting from anger to surprise back to annoyance the moment his eyes scanned you. One step, two steps. He was in your space, breathing in and out to you, with his  strikingly cold eyes and thin eyebrows furrowed. “Say that again, I dare you.”
You closed your eyes before releasing a deep sigh, muscles easing from the hold of your anger. “We don’t have to do it after school or on the weekends if you are that occupied. We can do it before school or during our breaks and even before our clubs start.” You grabbed one of his wrist, turning his palm upwards, shoving the crumpled paper with your number into it while fixating your glare on him throughout. You refuse to back down but you will be the bigger person. Forcing his hand to a close, you narrowed your eyes for good measure while trying to control the smirk from overtaking your face when his frown further deepened in distaste. Taking a step back, your hands returned to the usual folded stance, you forced an amicable smile to replace the smirk - although you have a feeling that he could still see the smirk from how his eye twitched, “Of course, it’s really up to you, Shinazugawa-san.”
Turning on your heel, you headed back to the classroom with your head held high and a full-blown smirk on your face while your peers watched with stolen glances and whispers behind hands or under breaths. The clicking of his tongue echoed in the corridor and in your head all the way back to the classroom. 
“Ara, ara, should you really do that (Y/N)-chan?” Shinobu greeted you by your desk, eyes filled with mirth from the free entertainment.
You laughed airily, eyes not meeting hers but focused on clearing the messy table, “I wouldn’t have to if he wasn’t that difficult.” 
“Not many survive Sanemi you know?” Shinobu followed you to the student council room. “One must use their life's worth of luck to crawl out from his bad side.” 
A bark of a laugh escaped you from her exaggeration. “Shinobu-chan ~ I thought you wanted to get into medicine and not theatrics?”
Her eyes met yours, a smirk tugging on her lips, eyes shifting precariously into ones when she knew something the other party doesn’t and in this case that was you. A shiver ran down your spine. You’ve been in the spot only a few times but still a few too many with most of them ending up jerking your view of the world down a path you’ve never considered. You gulped, hands itching and playing with themselves. 
“Did you not hear about how he got into a fight with some university boys down at the park?” She leaped into your space, voice dropping into a whisper in your ear yet head tilted to ensure a front seat view to your reaction. “He came out with a couple of scratches and bruises but…” Her small hands encircled your upper arm. Your eyes dropping to them before returning to her face - surprised to witness your shock colouring your face white as it was reflected in those big eyes of hers. “The boys said to be much bigger than he is, had to go to the hospital.” Her smile bordering on unhinged glee, she drawled, “They were so scared they didn’t sue him.”
She immediately returned to her spot beside you, a foot away, while her shoulders and arms lifted in a form of a shrug nonchalantly. “Apparently, when questioned, the boys said something about them being the ones out of line and they have worked things out.” 
Being close friends with Shinobu and Mitsuri meant that you were privy to the latest gossip and news but you always took it with a grain of salt seeing firsthand how some things were purposefully voided or added for the enjoyment of teenagers. You smiled unsurely, “that’s just a rumour Shinobu-chan.”
She pouted, invisible to those who didn't know her well enough or who weren’t keen enough, “You can ask Akio. He was a witness.”
Your eyes widened before blinking in incredulity. “What.”
She giggled, hand raising in a wave before dashing down the corridor. “Do share with me if he tells you more!” 
It took you a few seconds to regain your bearings, even a shake of your head to rid the mental image of Sanemi punching away on people bigger than him for his amusement. He was by no means a small person shown clearly with the muscles seen even through the school uniform - a testament to his achievements as one of the greatest fighters in the taekwondo club despite his lacklustre participation of actually attending said club practices - but there were certainly bigger and taller people in your school, much less university. 
“Hashimoto-san!” You snapped out of your musings.
“Tanaka-san.” You greeted back. The black haired guy chuckled, “I told you to call me by my first name. After all, we’ve been working together for 3 years. Unless, you don’t see me as a friend? Damn, it must hurt to only be seen as a student council partner even after winning the presidential election together.”
“Stop being so dramatic.” You huffed, plopping down into the chair and hands gravitating towards the papers on the table before being stopped by a hand on your wrist. Raising an eyebrow, he returned the gesture indicating there’s something he was expecting you to tell him. He released the grasp on your hand the moment you were falling back onto the back support of the chair with a sigh. “How may I help you Akio?”
“On the way here, I heard an interesting piece of news.” He sat sideways on the table, the leg on the table folded over the leg still standing. You folded your arms over your chest and hummed. “You and Shinazugawa were fighting?”
“It was just a talk that got a bit heated. I was trying to get a hold on him so we can do our project for literature together.” 
Akio’s eyebrows shot up and disappeared under his bangs. “Wow, what luck. First, he somehow got into your class through that stupid maths shit and now you have to deal with him.” He smiled in assurance, eyes crinkling close and  a hand over his heart. “Be careful but if anything happens, I’m here. I’ll come running to save my beloved president.”
You mouthed a wow. Silence blanketed the both of you as you nod in understanding - lips trying to contain the smiles and laughs - as he continued to express his devotion through his hand gestures - hand flying to point at you before returning to over his chest, patting it, then forming into a prayer of sorts - all the while mouthing his loyalty to you. 
With a shake of your head and hands indicating him to leave as you pulled yourself closer to your table, “Thanks but I doubt I need it.”
Instead, he tilted his head backwards and narrowed his eyes on the ceiling. “If you see what I saw, I wouldn’t put too much faith in him.”
Blood freezes over while questions overwhelm your mind. You gulped and licked your lips to get rid of the sudden dryness, “And what exactly are they?”
“He didn’t stop beating them up or screaming at them even when they were down. Three policemen had to pry him off and restrain him.”
Your heart dropped.
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shoichee · 3 years
Note
Hello! Can I perhaps ask for no. 28. “Make me” from your prompt list for my beloved Imayoshi? It's so nice seeing him here on your theme and avatar and that pERFECT url, it feels like I finally found my people.
HELLO HELLO, and YES I WAS SO SURPRISED THAT NO ONE TOOK THIS URL... considering that it was just an alternative spelling of shoichi and its a rlly short handle too mwehe // im sort of a particular person when it comes to how something looks, whether itd be outfits, drawings, coloring, and the UI of a blog, u name it.... i may have spent hours trying to have the perfect colors for this theme PLEASEEEE, but without further ado here is our man, our little shit, Imayoshi
@knb-kreations howdy! another new work posted here!
Imayoshi x Reader
28. “Make me”
Word Count: 2331
prompt list here
»»————— ☼ —————««
Imayoshi doesn’t exactly know how he feels about you.
Scratch that, he does know. He’s quite amused at the shenanigans you pull on others around you, and a lot of times, you actually elicit a few dry laughs out of the guy. Other times though, he’d wish that you would just shut the fuck up, especially when all he hears amidst his studying was your loud “whispering” and “hushed” jokes. How you were always nearby no matter where he is was still a mystery that he casually ponders about from time to time. Perhaps your natural tendency to project your voice creates the illusion that you were near when you really weren’t?
No matter, such trivial thoughts can’t occupy his mind when college entrance exams loom closer. Then again, they weren’t particularly difficult; they were simply a hassle to secure near-perfect scores, especially when his chances of admittance rely critically on how well he does.
“That’s an awful drawing of a samurai,” Susa comments, snapping Imayoshi out of idle thought.
“Ho? Is it really terrible if you were able to tell what it is?” Imayoshi chuckles. “The point of a drawing is to convey the right idea or emotion. It seems that my drawing skills hit a bulls-eye with this sketch, no?” He playfully spins his pencil around, patiently waiting for his reply to goad him.
All Susa does in response is to roll his eyes before he turns his full attention back to his notes. He knows better than to try a comeback against Imayoshi, who can easily make it backfire against the person with a pleasant close-eyed smile. Imayoshi, seeing Susa’s nonverbal resign from engaging further banter, also looks down back to his book of scribbled notes and chicken-scratch drawings before he exhales an inaudible sigh.
School just doesn’t cut out to be mentally stimulating for him. It’s a little too repetitive and mundane for his taste.
“Argh!! Oh no!” your voice rang out, despite your poor attempt to be reasonably quiet. “I forgot applications for the Coca-Cola scholarship are due today!”
Coca-Cola… what?
Everyone looks up to warily eye you, and your few friends, who are currently rushing to pull you down and slap their hands over your mouth to mute you, were panicking at the new attention you managed to garner. Even still, your mind seems more fixated on whatever was on the laptop’s screen, rather than what they were doing to you.
Imayoshi can’t help but stifle his audible mirth from how you manage to change the mood of the entire library within seconds.
“How do you even forget something as important as a huge scholarship like that?” Susa says in dismay. “Makes me kind of wonder how (l/n) would handle life after graduation, to be honest.”
“Well,” Imayoshi begins. “I wouldn’t worry too much. It’s best not to underestimate (l/n)-san. Surely we’ve learned our lesson with Seirin?” He toys with the pencil grip before he sporadically draws some lines loosely resembling another sketch.
“Drawing again?” Susa raises a brow. “Have you even been studying?”
“Well,” he replies. “There’s still plenty of time before exams—months to be exact. Could you even study with the current distractions in here?” At his own words, he nudges his chin in your direction.
“It’s not just any exams though, it’s—”
“Whether they have more importance or not doesn’t really concern me. After all, standardized testing isn’t worth stressing out for when we’ve taken essentially the same thing all our lives.”
“What most are worried about is the content inside the exams, Imayoshi,” he said, carefully treading into dangerous waters with Imayoshi’s tendency to take all replies as mind-game challenges for his own amusement.
“‘If you have been paying attention consistently throughout the year, you wouldn’t be having much trouble…’ that’s what you once oh-so-wisely said to Wakamatsu yesterday, hmm?” His mimicking tone drips a hint of arrogance. “Unless you mean to tell me my ears do not work? But by all means, please feel free to correct me.”
“That’s different,” he sighed, his face clearly evident that he was done with Imayoshi’s shit. “That exam only tested content for the past year, not your entire academic repertoire over the courses of middle and high school.”
“I’d like to think that the logic still applies the same way.”
“Well,” Susa heaves with a languid stretch. “You generally score better on the exams than me, so you’re probably right. Still, don’t neglect your studying.”
“Right, right, Susa-senpai~”
“... Please don’t call me that again.”
“... If you say so,” he said, but his smile blatantly showed his real intentions of never stopping his irritable quips. Susa gets ready to pack up his book bag before he heads out the door with a friendly wave. Imayoshi half-heartedly returns the gesture with a casual wave of his own. He immediately notices you also packed up and about to leave with a worried frown, and of course, while audibly mumbling your concerns and makeshift schedules to accommodate time for last-minute essay writing. By now, all of your friends have left for home.
“Ah, biology lab due next week, kanji worksheets due tomorrow, hmm, um, how would I finish this on time… ah, calculus test is tomorrow too, ah shit… should I ask someone to tutor?—ah, but it’s super last minute, and there’s still that scholarship… argh, fuck!” Your voice peaked in volume at the end, and the librarian immediately shot daggers at you.
“Shhhhh!”
“A-Ah! S-Sorry, sorry!”
Imayoshi was watching you with his chin on his arm propped up on the desk, unable to control the smile that escaped his lips. You really were entertaining to watch, and you never cease to bore him.
He turns away to crack his neck and roll it around before methodically packing up his writing utensils and notebooks. Soft shuffling filled the air as he rearranged the items inside his bag. As he turns to pack the last thing on the table, which happened to be the notebook filled with his idle doodling, his face slightly softens at the drawing he did after the samurai. Yes, the one Susa chastised him for when he could’ve been studying. Yes, perhaps he was right when he was terrible at drawing after all; your panicked face and wild hand gestures didn’t really translate well into paper, and it looked a little too much like a horror comic and less than a sketch of you. Still, he’s oddly proud of it.
Imayoshi promptly pushes the chair in and leaves the library, but when he rounds the corner of the adjacent hallway, he bumps into you.
“Er—hi! I mean, please, uhhh… if it isn’t too much to ask—canyoupleasetutormeforthecalculustesttomorrowbecausemyfinalgradedependsonthat?”
Imayoshi winces at the sheer volume of your voice and plugs his ears in out of habit to block out some of the decibels. Wakamatsu was eerily similar to you in that regard. Only difference between the two of you was that you were deceptively intelligent. Extremely so.
“My, my, if it isn’t (l/n)-senpai!” He fakes a surprised look, earning him an eye roll on your end. “You need someone like me to teach you the works?”
“I—what? We’re literally in the same calc class, Imayoshi,” you retort. “Besides, drop the ‘senpai’ honorific. It feels so slimy when you say it so disingenuously… Aren’t we both 3rd years too?”
“I’m so hurt,” he mocks. “What if I was really genuine with you?”
“Look, right now, no remarks from you, Evil Glasses,” you say. “It’s really, really urgent and I don’t know how to grasp the material for the class lately, plus my essay, ugh…” You rub your fingers against your temples in an attempt to make the stressful headaches disappear while Imayoshi simply watches with his eyes slightly open.
“... You usually do well on all your exams, no? Unless my eyes and memory fail me.” It was true; even though you were as loud-mouthed as Wakamatsu, you would often shock a lot of people when your name always appeared in the higher percentiles of exam results. Apparently most students and teachers associate your rowdy personality with an expected subpar academic performance. He has you to thank for when your score reports always cause reactions of utter disbelief from the teachers. You really do liven up the school and make it a lot more unorthodox.
“I guess…” you mumble. “But I really wanna do especially well for this one because math is my weakest subject, and you always score the highest for these types of exams, so…”
“It may be my best subject,” he says, leaning slightly closer to your face. “But I’m not the one with the highest scores in any math subjects throughout these years, and we both know that quite well, don’t we, (l/n)? Why don’t you come clean about the real reason why you’re here?”
“Oh my literal fuck—Imayoshi, you’re one of the best students in calc right now regardless of exam results,” you petulantly huffed, not backing down from his intimidation. Imayoshi notes your cheeks reddening, and he figured it was either because of the close proximity between your faces or the fact you were frustrated… perhaps both. “And you’re the only one around here on campus who I could ask!”
“Really now,” he chimes, moving closer to whisper in your ear. “Are you sure?” With incoherent stammers, you backed away from him, slapping your hands against both of your ears to protect them.
“W-W-What the fuck are you doing?!”
“Looks like I won this one, (l/n)-san,” he purrs, relishing the fact that only he could render you this quiet. “Ho? What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?”
“I—Shut up!” you lamely shoot back. “You can just say no if you really don’t wanna do this—urgh, I’m leaving, I’m not gonna waste any more time—”
“How hurtful,” he dryly remarks, standing up straight again after leaning for a quite a while. “It’s almost as if you’re rejecting me~” He knew you would always take his bait and quip back (unlike Susa), regardless of whether or not you tell him that you weren’t going to engage further.
“As if,” you snorted, making another exaggerated eye roll. “You’re the last person who would ever be hurt from this.”
“Dear me!” he exclaims. “Have you ever considered that perhaps I don’t help out people for free? Did you think I would be a gracious, selfless person who would help you like a saint?”
“Okay, fine! Perhaps I didn’t think that far ahead, okay? You just were the first person that came to mind, and I thought asking you wouldn’t hurt.” His smirk widens almost maliciously at your words, lips already opening to deliver another irritating quip before you immediately spoke again to stop him. “Okay, Imayoshi, you little shit, just shut up—I don’t wanna hear anything from your mouth right now.”
“I don’t see any reason why I should listen to you at all,” he muses. “Why don’t you make me?” He has a shit-eating grin plastered across his face, eagerly eyeing your next move, and as he expected, you let out a frustrated noise that prompted passerby students to shoot pointed looks towards the both of you.
What he didn’t expect was for you to take a huge step towards him, unceremoniously pull him down to your level, and press a reverberating smack on his lips. His eyes are immediately blown wide open to look at your embarrassed, but determined face. His fingers unconsciously move to touch his warmed lips.
“... That was quite romantic, wasn’t it, (l/n)?” he dryly says, recovering almost immediately from the shock. All the other students fled from the blatantly bold scene to save face. Not that Imayoshi really cared.
“Okay, you know what? Bye, I’m not gonna play anymore mind games with you,” you grumble. “Essays and studying aren’t gonna be done by themselves—wah!”
Imayoshi gently tugs you back to reciprocate back a kiss, meticulously slipping his hands behind your head and on your waist to accommodate you. Your eyes are completely open from the shock that the Imayoshi Shoichi was actually kissing you. You don’t close your eyes from the sensation, completely entranced when you make eye contact with his half-lidded eyes watching your every reaction closely. The kiss ended all too soon, and Imayoshi separates himself from you, secretly admiring your dazed look.
“That was quite a strong reaction to just a simple kiss.”
“I—that was not just a ‘simple kiss!’”
“Now would you like to tell me the true reason why you approached me?”
“You’re… insinuating that you know something.”
“Well we wouldn’t know unless you come clean,” Imayoshi purrs. “I can sometimes be wrong too.”
“Ugh, what the hell—fine, I am quite enamored by you, and uh, I… find it infuriating to be with you, but it also gives me butterflies… so I thought I could be with you more… if I asked you—don’t get it twisted, though! I still need your help to study!...” He covers his mouth to suppress a laugh at your honesty.
“Was it really so hard to say that in the beginning, (l/n)-san?”
“Okay, that’s it! I’m really, really leaving! Fuck off, Imayoshi, I swear to—”
“Ho? Just a minute, darling~” he tuts, reaching to hold your hand. “Perhaps if you offer more kisses as an incentive, I’d be more inclined to offer my expertise.”
“How quaint,” you dryly reply. “It’s almost as if we’re in a relationship.”
Imayoshi can’t help but bark out a genuine laugh. You even managed to pick up some of his mannerisms so quickly.
“That’s an interesting proposal, (l/n),” he murmurs. “Should we try that?” You tut at him irritatedly as you tug your interlocked hands while speed-walking ahead.
“Hurry up, or I’ll consider breaking up with you right now.”
“Ah ha!~” he chuckles at your attitude. “How mean, (l/n)-san! Too bad that we both know that’s not going to happen anytime soon.”
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iwaisa · 4 years
Text
► now playing...
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- pairing. kageyama x female reader
- warnings. slight angst, slow burn, swearing
- genre. best friends to lovers
- a/n. not a fan of this fic, but i also wrote this while my writers block was in full swing </3
- word count. 7.7k+
- key. y/c = your country
your first day at kitagawa daiichi junior high was already a disaster. after being late for your first class by ten minutes, to trying to find your club room in the maze of hallways. you clutched the schedule given to you by your homeroom teacher, frantically looking at each sign above the classroom doors. you cursed under your breath, deciding that maybe it would be alright if you missed your club. after all, you weren’t really interested in joining a club. the only reason you believed that you should was to meet people so that you weren’t totally alone. 
but the truth was, you were alone. you had just moved from y/c, and you weren’t even completely fluent in japanese yet. you cursed yourself for not listening to your tutor better, and not being able to find your damn club. you eventually gave up on searching and walked to the front of the school to switch your shoes. you exited the building, only to find yourself come face to face with a boy with jet black hair. he clutched a volleyball in his hands, and he was wearing a jersey. neither of you spoke first, resulting in an extremely awkward first encounter.
“do you need help finding your club?” he questioned, stepping closer to you. “o-oh, yes! wait, actually, no. i’m not joining a club. i was only going to in order to meet people, but i would much rather go home.” he nodded along in understanding. “are you new here?” in response to his question, you bowed quickly to him while introducing yourself, “yes, i’m an exchange student, l/n f/n. this was my first day of school in japan.” he paused for a second, before looking your figure up and down. you felt your face heat up under his intense but interested gaze. “what country are you from?” he asked, tilting his head to the side. you couldn’t help but feel a smile grow on your face at how this boy resembled a puppy. “y/c. i moved here for family reasons, and i’ll be going to high school here too.” he smiled, “that’s cool! uh...i have to go to volleyball practice now, i’ll see you, l/n!” he began to jog away. you waved and watched him, until he stopped and turned around. “by the way, my name is tobio kageyama! it was very nice to meet you!” your heart swelled.  you smiled as you began to skip happily in the direction of your home. did you just make your first friend?
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weeks passed, and you and kageyama have only gotten closer. it turns out he was in your class, and he sat in the back row. occasionally, during lectures, you would turn around to see kageyama with his deep blue eyes already on you. this routine would continue, with you turning around and waving to kageyama everyday. each time, he would smile and wave back. 
during lunch breaks, the two of you stayed in your own seats, too nervous to approach the other. one day, a small group of girls approached your desk and asked if you wanted to eat lunch with them, to which you agreed. you were finally forming a solid friend group, and you couldn’t be happier. 
you kept this routine of waving to kageyama during class and eating lunch with your friends, until one day kageyama approached your desk instead. “c-can we eat lunch together?” he asked as he stared at his shoes. you instantly picked up on the nervous tone in his voice, and giggled to yourself as you watched kageyama furrow his eyebrows in concern. “o-only if you want to. i know you usually eat with your friends but i was just wondering i-if we were friends? you always wave to me in class.” he mumbled. 
“do you want to be friends with me?” his head shot up to look you in the eyes at your question. “yes!” he responded with a little more enthusiasm than he hoped to. you laughed as you told him to pull up a chair. luckily, your friends saw exactly what was happening, so they decided not to interrupt.
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some time passed, and you and kageyama continued eating lunch together. sometimes you two ate alone, and sometimes your other friends joined, asking kageyama about his upcoming practice match. he explained excitedly that he was learning how to serve from his senior and captain, oikawa. none of you knew exactly what he meant, but you congratulated him nonetheless. upon leaving school to go home, you and kageyama parted ways, with him leaving to go to his match. you apologized for not being able to watch, as your family wanted you home in time for dinner. he explained that it was perfectly fine, and that there were many more opportunities to see him in action. you two smiled at each other before parting ways, both of your faces growing red in colour.
this routine carried on for months, and you were completely satisfied with it. you were finally able to convince your parents to let you stay and watch kageyama’s match against shiratorizawa junior high. as soon as school ended, you told the ravenette you would be there right as it started before sprinting in the direction of your home. 
you stared at your reflection in the mirror, satisfied with what you had changed into. you were now wearing what you deemed as your cutest outfit. you believed this to be a big deal - going to your first volleyball game. okay, maybe going to watch a couple of guys struggle to keep a ball from hitting the ground wasn’t what you were anxious for. it was the fact that you desperately wanted to impress your best friend of almost a year. you wanted kageyama to see you that way too, and you couldn’t help but want to speed up that process. you waved to your parents as you bolted out the door, making your way to the gymnasium of kitagawa daiichi.
upon arrival, kageyama’s eyes instantly found your figure. you were standing shyly at the doorway, not wanting to enter yet. he couldn’t stop the goofy smile that began making its way onto his face as your eyes found his. you two smiled at each other for what seemed like hours, the other not wanting to move. you felt yourself drowning in his eyes, but you never wanted to get out. you concluded that this was far different than any crush you’ve had in the past. you yearned to be around kageyama, even if you felt suffocated by his presence. you constantly tried to elicit any sort of validation from him, even if it was something as small as understanding a math equation. tonight, you were hoping for a compliment, even something as small as ‘you look nice.’ 
you watched the game take its course, or more specifically, you watched kageyama’s every move. you were amazed at how easily he passed the ball to his teammates. whenever kitagawa scored, he turned to where you were sitting and pumped his fist, with you pumping yours in response. 
the game carried on for what you believed to be hours. each time the gap in scores increased, you found yourself sweating profusely, and you could tell kageyama was growing nervous with each second. 
you stood up to clap along with the others sitting in the audience as the members of the kitagawa daiichi volleyball team bowed in front of the bleachers. it was an unfortunate turn of events, with shiratorizawa junior high taking the win. you stayed standing while all of the other audience members filed out of the gymnasium doors, waiting for your chance to run up to your friend. you listened to the announcements and watched as someone, who you believed to be the captain of the team, received an award for the best setter. you quickly became confused as that same captain continued turning around to yell at kageyama. what was he doing? you stood in disbelief as the chocolate-haired male pointed at kageyama accusingly. even if he was sobbing, you could still very clearly hear the words he said to him. “and tobio-chan! i don’t know where you’ll be headed after this, but i’m gonna crush you. so you better be prepared.”
you didn’t even realize that your mouth was hanging open with your jaw practically on the floor until kageyama turned to look into the stands. instead of looking dejected from his senior’s nasty comment, he looked as if he was determined. you knew that spark in his eyes - you recognized it from when you went to watch him practice one day. 
he stood at one end of the gym, with a volleyball balanced on the palm of his hand. his eyelids closed slowly as he breathed in through his nose. he exhaled the air through his mouth, opening his eyes to stare directly at the ball. while swinging his arm behind him, he simultaneously tossed the ball in the air in front of him. you watched in awe as he ran forward, arms swinging behind him to propel himself upwards into the air. the palm of his hand made contact with the ball, sending it hurtling forwards. both of you watched as it hit directly into the net. 
he sighed in defeat, using the collar of his jersey to wipe the sweat that had accumulated on his forehead. you jogged to pick up the ball, handing it back to him. “you’ll get it this next time, kageyama.” he nodded as his eyes filled with determination as if he were hitting the ball the first time again.
the walk home to your house was silent with kageyama deep in thought next to you. “i’ll win next year. and when we’re third years. i’ll win for you, l/n.” you snapped your head to look at him, your gaze meeting his soft expression. “i know you will, kageyama.”
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throughout your second year of middle school, kageyama seemed to be acting distant. not only this, but you couldn’t help but notice how he wasn’t around you as often. kageyama was no longer eating lunch inside now, instead he made a routine of heading outside to practice setting his volleyball he always carried with him. you knew he was only doing it to practice, but you couldn’t help but feel your heart ache.
“kageyama really ditched you again today? are you alright with that, f/n?” one of your friends coming up to your desk with her bento in hand asked. “i guess. i mean, he’s only practicing for volleyball, it’s not like we never talk anymore.” you shrugged it off. “if you’re sure, i guess it’s alright then. i mean to me it just feels like volleyball is the only thing he’s ever thinking about. it’s like he doesn’t care about his friends. not that i’m saying he doesn’t care about you! i’m sure he does! it’s just,” she carefully calculated the words she wanted to say next, “are you sure you want to like him when he’s only thinking about volleyball?” 
you knew she was only looking out for you. you two had only known each other for a little over a year, but you already put all of your trust into her. one particular sleepover with a group of girls left you wanting desperately to confess to kageyama already. the three girls inquired about your crush, not expecting it to be the ‘volleyball idiot’ as they labeled him. they weren’t trying to get you to stop liking him, but the complete opposite. they dropped hints everyday that you had a crush to see if he would respond. instead of seeming interested or jealous, he simply turned to you and wished you good luck. 
“i like him, sure. but i’m not going to act on it anytime soon. it’s just a small crush.” she shrugged in response, not wanting to push any further. “do you know where you’ll be going to high school?” your friend questioned, taking a bite of her food. “i have no idea. i have a few options, but i’ve heard some of the entrance exams are crazy hard. i have no idea what i want to be when i get out of high school, so i might as well go somewhere with decent academics.” she nodded along. “well, we’ve got one more year to go! maybe next year you’ll tell kageyama that you’re in love with him!” she began making kissy faces while clasping her hands together. you laughed at her as she continued to act out a silly confession scene. as the bell rang, you watched kageyama enter the classroom again, volleyball tucked under his right arm. you sighed as you wondered if this next year was your last year being able to see kageyama.
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soon enough, it was your last year at kitagawa daiichi. your friend group had added a few new members, making your previously smaller group of four a group of six girls. what you weren’t expecting, however, was for one of your best friends to begin acting cold towards you. kageyama’s whole demeanor began to change drastically upon entering your third year at kitagawa daiichi.
no longer was he the kind, easily-impressed boy you met for the first time two years prior. now, he was described as a ‘tyrannical king.’ the first time you heard this was as you were walking down the hallway. you passed a boy with spiky hair that seemed to stand straight up on its own. alongside him was a boy with flat hair, which was parted down the middle, framing his face. 
“he’s going insane. i don’t think i can be on a team with him much longer. i just want this year to be over so i don’t have to see that tyrant kageyama anymore.” upon hearing his, you stopped in your tracks. kageyama? a tyrant? that wasn’t right. kageyama was sweet and gentle, not cruel. you desperately wanted to get to the bottom of this, so you could prove those boys wrong and defend kageyama’s name. approaching your friend, you asked if she wanted to go watch the volleyball club’s game. she hesitated before nodding, not wanting to be the one to tell you the true nature of kageyama’s behavior.
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your jaw was on the floor - and it wasn’t a positive type of shock. your friend covered her mouth and rubbed circles into your back with her palm as you watched kageyama yell at another one of his teammates for the umpteenth time that day.
“move faster! jump higher! match my tosses if you want to win!”
you jumped as his voice suddenly boomed throughout the gym. your friend gasped in surprise and quickly went back to rubbing circles into your upper back. “should we just leave? that was the fifth time you’ve jumped today, f/n.” you were quick to shake your head, “i want to see if they win. i know kageyama can do it.” you had hoped maybe it was his nerves getting under his skin, or maybe the fact that he simply had a bad day.
watching the rest of that game could easily make its way onto your list of worst things you have ever had to go through. kageyama never stopped yelling at his teammates, resulting in his coach pulling him out of the game at one point. nearing the last few points of the game, you watched intensely as kageyama went to set the ball, only to connect it to no one. no one wanted to receive his set. you watched with bated breath as the ball seemed to fall to the floor in slow motion. you glanced at the rest of the players who seemed to just stand there, unmoving.
however, the sting in your heart wasn’t caused by either of those things. the fact that not even once kageyama glanced up into the bleachers to lock eyes with yours caused you to rethink your support. what were you doing? were you really supporting someone who just didn’t want it? 
you waved your arms to get kageyama’s attention, only to watch as he sneered at you. you felt your throat tighten, and tears threatened to fall from your eyes as your best friend of three years, not to mention your crush, simply didn’t acknowledge your presence.
the truth was right in front of your face - tobio kageyama didn’t need your support anymore. he was flying solo - a king who didn’t need a queen.
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you dressed yourself in karasuno’s uniform, while mentally preparing yourself for what was about to come. both you and your best friend from middle school were attending karasuno high school, while the other friends in your group dispersed to go to different schools. not only were you nervous going into your first year of high school, but you were also nervous to see a few familiar faces. one of which was your very own friend - or rather, ex-friend - tobio kageyama. the same boy whom you met on your first day of school in this country. the boy whom you developed a massive crush on throughout your months of hanging out almost everyday. the boy who seemingly dropped you to pick up the title of ‘king of the court.’
to this day, you hated that nickname. you still carried a sliver of hope that kageyama had changed, that he realized his mistakes and worked to better himself. you knew kageyama would join the volleyball club, so you made sure to stay far away from the gymnasium.
of course, not everything works according to pre-made plans. walking into your classroom, all you wanted to do was turn on your heel, head straight for the office, and ask if you could switch classes. sitting at a desk in the middle of the room was none other than the tobio kageyama, ex-friend, ex-crush, and newly proclaimed tyrant of volleyball.
the bell rang while you were glued to your spot. the teacher attempted to slip in behind you, announcing to the class to find their assigned seats. luckily for you, your seat happened to be in the last row. all you had to do before lunch was sprint to your friends’ classroom and not be seen by kageyama.
you were distracted the whole lecture, not listening to a word the teacher uttered. all you could manage to focus on was the back of a certain ravenette’s head. had he grown taller? before you could spiral into a slew of unanswered questions, the bell signaled the end of english, meaning it was now lunch break. you slid out from under your desk and unzipped your bag to grab your bento as quickly as possible, hoping to not be seen by kageyama. 
“l/n?” before you could take a step out of the door, a deep but familiar voice pulled you back into the classroom. turning around slowly, you were met with kageyama’s piercing blue eyes. holy shit he did get taller.
standing face to face with him, you remembered just how intimidating kageyama was. except this time, he looked even more so. “h-hey, kageyama.” you internally smacked your head for stuttering. 
“uhm,” he furrowed his eyebrows, an action that made him look as if he were angry about something, “h-how are you doing? i haven’t seen you since last year,” he mumbled. you took a breath in as you gathered the courage to have a conversation with your old friend, “i’m doing well, how about you? are you still playing volleyball?” you cursed yourself as you let slip the exact thing you didn’t want to talk to him about. what if he hates you for asking him a sensitive question like that? 
“oh. yeah i’m still playing. i was actually going to turn in my form to join the club after school. d-do you want to catch up?”
you cursed yourself once more as you felt your heart rate pickup at his offer. you hated this. you hated that you still liked your friend who changed with the flip of a switch.
“y-yeah, i’d like that.” 
most importantly, you hated that you could never say no to tobio kageyama.
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“-and then hinata actually hit it with his eyes closed. isn’t that dumb? hinata is such a dumbass.” you chuckled as kageyama went back to angrily sipping his milk carton. it’s been exactly one month since the first day of high school, and you and kageyama have worked hard to rekindle your broken friendship. he expressed his sorrow for throwing away such an amazing and supportive friend such as yourself, and tried his best to make it up to you. you two ate lunch everyday, with your friend occasionally joining you two. in the middle of eating, kageyama would always ask if you could toss the ball to him. of course you agreed, wanting nothing more than to see your crush smile while doing the thing he loved most.
“we have a practice match against aoba johsai coming up. wanna come?” you stopped tossing the ball to yourself, processing his question. “do you want me to come?” you asked quietly. he looked up to the sky, as if he were deep in thought. “i do.” you smiled brightly - honest to God it was one of the most genuine smiles you’ve given someone in a long time. 
“i’ll be there!” he nodded. you didn’t miss the way his eyes lit up with a familiar hint of determination, something you haven’t seen in a long while. you felt your heart rate pick up as kageyama approached you. it wasn’t until he was standing directly in front of you when you released a breath you didn’t realize you were holding in. he stared down at you, the faintest hint of a smile growing on his face. “i’m happy you’re here at karasuno with me, l/n.” your face exploded in a multitude of colors, resulting in you becoming a stuttering disarray of words. “y-yeah,” you stared at your shoes while raising your fist to lightly punch his stomach. he chuckled as you flattened your palm against his abdomen. holy shit, he’s rock solid! you didn’t dare look up at his face as you quickly pulled your hand away, apologizing for the inappropriate contact. he laughed as he assured you that he didn’t mind, his face turning a bright pink. 
these next three years were going to be extremely difficult if you didn’t get a hold on your feelings now.
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the air in the gym was extremely thick. you watched as a certain chocolate-haired male walked into the gymnasium with his team following right behind him. you noticed as the boy, oikawa, - your senpai from kitagawa - was seemingly taunting kageyama from the opposite side of the court.
throughout the match, kageyama never once yelled at any of his teammates, however, a certain redhead was the only exception. the whole gym went quiet after said redhead served the ball straight into the back of kageyama’s head. both you and your friend sat in the bleachers with -your hands over your mouths, waiting for kageyama to begin yelling. two other boys on the team began laughing, with one of them cupping his hands around his mouth yelling, “nice headshot, man!” kageyama turned around slowly and began making his way towards the smaller boy, who was now shaking. you were surprised he hasn’t pissed himself yet, you know for sure you would have. with the way kageyama was approaching him, you figured he would be done for. the boy began shaking his arms around, yelling for kageyama to hear him out. 
“just wondering...” kageyama began calmly. the redhead nodded quickly, “yes?” “why are you so intimidated? why are you so nervous? is it because the opponents are tall? is it because this is your first practice match?” you waited with bated breath as kageyama began lifting his arm behind his head. “there’s nothing scarier than hitting a serve into the back of my head. is there?” the two of you gasped as he smacked the back of his head. “then get back to normal, jackass!” he yelled. your friend turned to you with a face of confusion and worry as you began laughing. “h-how is that funny? he just yelled at his teammate!” you took a deep breath, contemplating your next words. “kageyama’s talked to me about him before. i’m pretty sure they’re friends.” your friend nodded.
“i think he’s changed.” you turned to study your friends face, and you noticed how her expression was one of surprise. “i just want you to be careful. i don’t want to see the two of you drift apart again,” she sighed, scratching her cheek. “i promise we’ll be okay.” she nodded at your assurance. 
kageyama glanced up into bleachers, watching as you smiled with your friend. he got back into position, still staring at you. “hey king, stop drooling over her. she’s gonna get freaked out,” tsukishima teased him. “i-i’m not drooling! and stop calling me that!” kageyama exclaimed, his ears turning red. “whatever you say, king. it’s creepy though, both of you keep staring at each other but you’re so oblivious. she clearly likes you.” kageyama froze in his spot as he glared at tsukishima. “she doesn’t,” kageyama muttered, his face only growing redder. tsukishima simply rolled his eyes at his teammate’s oblivious nature.
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the game came to a close, with you and your friend jumping up and down congratulating karasuno on their win. kageyama watched you, his stomach doing somersaults. his heart was full of pride and excitement as he watched you shake your friend’s arm, waving to kageyama. he pumped his fist out towards you as you reciprocated the action.
you and your friend ran outside to grab your bikes as you waited for the team to file out of the gymnasium. as soon as you spotted kageyama, you dropped your bike and ran to him and gave him a hug. “congrats, kageyama!” he nearly dropped his bag as you threw yourself on him. he wrapped his arms around your waist and buried his face into your hair. you felt your cheeks warm up as you finally let go of kageyama. “sorry, i was just happy that you won.”
“you can hug me anytime, l/n.” kageyama looked down at you smiling. neither of you cared about the fact that there were a few eyes on you, and neither of you succeeded at calming your racing hearts.
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for the next two months, you continued going to kageyama’s volleyball matches. the ones you couldn’t attend, you texted kageyama good luck and apologized for not being able to make it. over the course of those two months, kageyama’s anger seemed to dissipate completely. he no longer yelled at his teammates like he did during your third year at kitagawa. instead, his teamwork and his trust have been restored almost to its full potential.
on the day karasuno lost to aobajohsai, kageyama was feeling especially down. you invited him over to watch a movie to take his mind off the loss when it turned into something completely different. you two sat in the main room of your home, talking over the television. his body language screamed that he was uncomfortable talking about this topic, but he explained everything anyway, saying that it was time he finally explained himself. the question that sparked this serious conversation was simple; why did he become so angry and distant during your third year?
“do you remember oikawa? our senpai from kitagawa?” you nodded your head, allowing him to continue. “i looked up to him. he was an inspiration to me, and i always wanted to do everything he did. he…he didn’t like me. in fact, one time i asked him to teach me how to serve and he almost hit me. that was, until iwaizumi-senpai stopped him.” 
“he was really that jealous?” you asked out loud, mainly to yourself. “jealous? i-i don’t think he was jealous. i think i was just annoying.” you turned to face him, “you’re not annoying, kageyama. you only wanted to learn how to serve and he should’ve taught you, being your captain and all. it seems to me that he had an inferiority complex.” there was a beat drop before you turned back to look at kageyama. the face he had was one of pure confusion. “inferiority complex?” you talked with your hands as you explained, “it means he felt like he was useless compared to you. he felt he had to be show-offish in order to appear dominant over his kohai.” he nodded his head, and placed his pointer finger under his chin. “he felt useless? but he’s amazing. sure, he’s a major jackass now, but he was my main source of inspiration back then. i wanted to be just like him.” 
“i understand that. but you know what i think?” he turned towards you, tilting his head to the side. “i think you’re amazing now, whether he helped you back then or not. you’ve changed so much, kageyama. honestly, i never would have expected to become such good friends with you again.” there was a moment of silence shared between the two of you as he processed your words. “you think i’m amazing?” he questioned under his breath. you nodded slowly, allowing him to let your words sink in. “i’m sorry i pushed you away, l/n. i hated how i acted back then. i hated that people called me the king. it’s almost as if i was living a completely different life during that time. but now, i’m really glad you wanted to be friends with me again.” you gave him a small smile and you raised your hand to chop his head. he winced and rubbed his head as you laughed, “of course i wanted to be friends with you again, dumbass. after all i...” you trailed off. did you want to say it now?
“l/n?” kageyama raised his eyebrows in concern. you didn’t even realize that a few minutes have passed. “what?” you waved it off with your hand when he asked what you meant, ignoring the heat growing on your cheeks. the movie ended, leaving you two in another few minutes of uncomfortable silence. “d-don’t you need to be home? it’s already…” you trailed off as you searched for your phone, “eleven.” kageyama thought for a moment before standing up and stretching. you didn’t mean to, but you’re glad you looked when you did. as kageyama stretched, you saw the tiniest bit of his toned stomach. does he have a six-pack? you ignored the heat on your face and began to stand up, leading kageyama to the door.
“hey, l/n?” you looked up from your feet to look at kageyama, who was about to slide the door open. “yeah?” you watched him shuffle around, raising your suspicion. “i have a training camp in tokyo in a few weeks, so i’m not going to be able to hang out then. sorry.” you couldn’t help but drop your shoulders, which kageyama picked up on. “b-but i’ll be training for the interhigh nationals! s-so you can come watch me there...if you want to.” you chuckled, putting your feelings behind you so you could reassure your friend that you’ll be there. he nodded and pumped his fist. “i’ll train extra hard for you, l/n.”
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soon enough, the tokyo training camp came to a close, and you anticipated kageyama’s return. 
you were just eating breakfast when kageyama texted you saying he was back in miyagi, and you called him. “hey kageyama! how was the training camp?” his groggy voice came through from the other side, as well as hinata’s excited voice, “i’m exhausted. we had a barbecue before coming back, so that was nice.” you hummed in response. 
“so what’s next?” you questioned while taking a bite of your food. “next month we’re going to the interhigh national tournament. you’ll be there, right?” you stopped chewing, “kageyama, you know that’s in tokyo, right? how am i supposed to get there? d-don’t get me wrong! i want to cheer you on, it’s just-” you were cut off by a grunt and some yelling coming from the other line. 
“l/n? it’s hinata! join the team as a manager! you’re friends with yachi, right?” this was true, you and yachi became friends a little while after karasuno lost to aobajohsai. even yachi asked if you wanted to apply to become a manager after seeing how often you hung around kageyama. 
“i-i could apply, but do you guys really need a third manager?” there was some arguing on kageyama’s side, but hinata managed to answer you, “i’ll ask coach! hey coach!” he yelled. you winced when hinata began screaming. 
“s-sorry about that, l/n.” you laughed as you picked up on the annoyance in kageyama’s voice. “l/n? do you actually want to become a manager? that would be nice, then you could come with me to tokyo.” you couldn’t help the way your heart began skipping beats at the thought of being able to travel with kageyama to cheer him on. “only if you want me to, kageyama.” kageyama didn’t hesitate to answer, “i want you to.”
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the day before the karasuno volleyball team left for tokyo to compete in the spring interhigh nationals was the day you were officially welcomed on the team as a manager. all of the boys were welcoming, yet you found yourself cowering away from two boys in particular. one of which was even shorter than hinata, and the other looked like a delinquent. you quickly grew accustomed to these boys when they promised you they would protect you from any unwelcoming eyes. yachi had asked if you wanted to sit together on the bus there, much to kageyama’s dismay. 
hinata noticed kageyama’s change in demeanor, and was quick to question the latter. “kageyama, are you disappointed that l/n isn’t sitting next to you?” kageyama snapped his head to stare down at hinata, “w-what the hell are you talking about, idiot! i’m not disappointed!” kageyama reached down to grab onto hinata’s head, but he dodged. “aww, kageyama’s jealous!” hinata danced around and mocked him in a singsong voice, and kageyama’s anger boiled over. “i’m not jealous!” he yelled, causing the gym to go silent. both you and kageyama made eye contact with each other before he stormed out of the gym. 
you stayed glued to your spot, before yachi tapped you on the shoulder. “do you want to go after him?” she questioned. you nodded before handing the water bottles in your hands over to your blonde friend before jogging after kageyama. 
you found him sitting on the steps leading up to the club rooms, with his head resting on the palms of his hands. “hey, grumps.” kageyama’s head shot up causing his eyes to meet yours. you squatted in front of him, causing a red tint to make its way onto his cheekbones. 
he always knew he liked you, but he had absolutely no idea how to handle those feelings. he’s had plenty of crushes on girls before, but none of which were as amazing and intriguing as you. he would even go as far as admitting that he was in love with you. 
“what do you want?” those words came out of his mouth far more aggressive than he was hoping, and he winced as he watched your expression change. “i-i was just wondering if you were alright,” you sighed, standing up. “if you don’t need anything, i’m gonna go back. the team is waiting to start practice.” 
he stood up quickly, “w-wait!” you turned around, tilting your head, “h-how do you tell a girl you like her?” you turned fully around, failing to hide the disappointment in your tone, “you just say ‘i like you.’ it’s easy, you simpleton.” he argued, “but it’s not! i-it’s so hard. it’s so hard to see someone you like everyday and not be able to tell them. i think she’s so gorgeous and funny - she’s the girl of my dreams. a-and i’m such an idiot for not being able to be around her without wanting to hide!” 
at this point, there were tears threatening to fall from your eyes. what kageyama was saying, basically, was that his crush wasn’t you. because in order for him to see you that way, he would be too shy to be around you, which was the complete opposite of what was happening at this moment. 
“look, kageyama, i don’t know what to tell you. i’m dealing with my own crush right now.” the words that came out of your mouth made kageyama feel a pang in his chest, one that he could only assume was jealousy. “hinata was right, i am jealous.” after saying that, he walked past you, leaving you to wonder what the hell just happened.
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the bus ride to tokyo was an utter disaster; with you sitting next to yachi as kageyama sat next to hinata. both yachi and hinata noticed the awkward tension in the air, and fought to make it dissipate. “how about a game! we could play cards!” hinata offered. “dumbass. do you even have cards?” kageyama rolled his eyes. “i don’t,” hinata sighed. hinata continued offering things to do, and each time either kageyama or tsukishima shut him down. during the trip, you couldn’t stop yourself from glancing at kageyama, who wasn’t even giving you the time of day. what did you do to make him so angry? eventually, five hours passed, and the karasuno volleyball team made their way into the tokyo metropolitan gymnasium.
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both matches concluded, with karasuno winning against both ohgiminami high and kakugawa high, the team climbed back onto the bus. as soon as everyone settled into their seats, the air was instantly thick again. hinata had rescued kiyoko from an encounter with the captain of johzenji’s volleyball team, who told hinata he was excited to play against karasuno in the upcoming spring tournament. other than that mishap, neither you nor kageyama have made a point to talk to each other. you cheered him on from inside your head, hoping whatever kageyama was ignoring you for would dissipate soon. 
you helped kiyoko and yachi with things that you clearly weren’t even interested in doing. what was the point of joining the team as a manager if the one person you joined for was ignoring you? you sighed louder than you meant to, gaining the attention of your friends. “l/n, i’m sure kageyama will come around sometime,” kiyoko broke the silence as yachi nodded along. “i just don’t understand what i did. kageyama told me he liked someone and that he couldn’t even stay in the same room as them without wanting to hide. i guess i shouldn’t have given myself false hope. it’s clear he doesn’t like me.” yachi and kiyoko exchanged knowing glances. the situation was clear as day to both of them; kageyama was trying to put his feelings for you aside. your two friends didn’t feel the need to meddle, and they told you they figured it would be solved in a few days.
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“yachi, you and kiyoko were so wrong,” you whined, leaning your head on your blonde friend’s shoulder. “i know, l/n, i’m sorry! we honestly didn’t expect him to keep pushing you away.” you looked up to study her face, only to be met with a frown. “it’s okay,” you sat up, stretching your arms over your head. “at least this is the last game for the qualifier.” she nodded along as kiyoko came to sit next to you. “hey, l/n. how are you feeling?” she handed you a water bottle, “i’m fine, i guess. i’m not as devastated as when it first began, but it still hurts a little.” she hummed in agreeance. 
the game carried on, and you found yourself unable to peel your eyes away from kageyama. by the time it was the fifth match, you were practically biting your nails off from anxiety. karasuno was able to surpass johzenshi, wakutani, and seijoh, but this was a completely different story. the tension was practically suffocating. 
on the other side, kageyama was at his wit’s end. he dug himself a hole, and he was desperately trying to climb out. he started this problem with you, his first real crush, and he had no idea how to cut it off. he so badly wanted to run over to you and tackle you into a hug, but in order to do that, he needed to apologize. this game was especially taxing on him, as his main goal was to make it to nationals. the first step in his plan to apologize to you was to make it through this game and win for you. 
the score was close, with both teams having won two sets. Either team could win the last set and walk away winners or losers. during a time out, kageyama walked straight towards you, allowing himself to say at least a few words to you. “hey,” he began. he watched as you jumped at the sound of his voice and turned around slowly. “h-hey.” there was a moment of silence before you reached down and grabbed a water bottle, handing it to him. “you’re doing great out there.” he nodded while bringing the bottle to his lips, keeping eye contact with you. you shifted uncomfortably, feeling stupid for thinking he was actually going to talk to you. kageyama placed the water bottle back in the holder, and leaned down to talk directly into your ear. “can we talk when we get back to miyagi?” your eyes widened at his sudden confidence, “y-yeah,” you nodded. “do you w-want to come over?” he pulled back to look at you, nodding his head. “okay,” you whispered. the sound of a whistle broke both of you out of your staring contest, and before you could say anything else, kageyama was already jogging back onto the court.
you couldn’t stop the tears that flowed from your eyes as you watched both teams line up at opposite ends of the court, bowing to each other. medals were being passed out, and you watched as kageyama bent down to let the woman slip it around his neck. determination filled his face as he held the medal in his palm, and he whipped his head around to look at you. wiping tears from your face, which you were sure looked quite awful, you smiled and slowly pumped your fist, with him pumping his in return.
anxiety began gnawing at your stomach the closer the bus transporting the karasuno volleyball team got to miyagi. you glanced over at kageyama, who was already fast asleep. you chuckled as you noticed just how angry he looked as he slept.
there was a comfortable silence as the two of you walked through the suburbs of miyagi. kageyama yawned for the umpteenth time since getting off the bus and you couldn’t help but chuckle, “tired?” he hummed in response, not saying anything.
as soon as you slid open your front door and began slipping your shoes off, your stomach fluttered with anticipation. you motioned for him to go ahead into your room as you slipped into the bathroom, checking your reflection. as you walked into your room, you smiled to yourself as you noticed kageyama sitting in his signature spot. 
each time he came over to your house, he always chose to sit far away from your bed. from the first time he came over during your first year at kitagawa daiichi to now. he sat in his spot, twiddling his thumbs. “no need to be nervous, kageyama. this isn’t the first time you’ve been over here,” you teased. 
when you didn’t hear a response, you turned around only to come face to face with kageyama. he stood in front of you, worry etched onto his perfect face. he slid his hand down your arm down to grab your hand, “l/n, i really need to tell you something.” you felt your heart flutter, and your mouth opened, but no words came out. you nodded your head, allowing him to continue. 
he grabbed your other hand, “i feel...awful. i ignored you for no reason for two whole months because...well because…i was nervous.” he continued, “i shouldn’t have lashed out at you then...i guess i’m still the same stupid king i was in middle school.” you quickly shook your head, squeezing his hands. “kageyama, you might not know how to express your feelings, but that doesn’t make you a king. that makes you human.” you looked down at your hands and brushed your thumbs over his knuckles. 
“i-if i’m a king, then...i want you to be my queen.” you shot your head up to watch his face grow red in color. there was a minute or two of silence before you whispered, “what?” he grumbled, shifting his weight from one foot to another. 
“w-what i’m saying is...f/n l/n, i really really like you.” his eyebrows furrowed together as you began to laugh from shock. “oh my god, kageyama,” you snickered, causing him to attempt to pull his hands out of your grasp. you pulled his arms around your waist and wrapped yours around his neck. “when did you become so romantic?” you questioned, your eyes shifting between his eyes and his lips. “i had to look up how to confess online since you failed to help me,” he grumbled. you let out a loud laugh at his statement. 
the two of you watched each other for a few minutes, both of you too cautious to try anything. like how the moon affects the tide, kageyama began pulling you in, allowing the two of you to brush lips. he closed the rest of the gap, smashing his lips against yours. you felt kageyama shake against you, and he accidentally hit his teeth against yours, causing you to groan. he pulled back, with an apologetic look on his face. 
“looks like the king should look up how to kiss too,” you teased. he grumbled while rolling his eyes, “hush up and let me try again. i’ll show you exactly how a queen should be kissed.”
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Text
Lightning in a Bottle | Edmund Pevensie x Reader
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Warnings: None :)
Time/Era: Modern AU
Word Count: 2.6k
Summary: Music is Edmund’s love language, apparently. 
Request: Hey! Could you possibly do a cute high school au with Edmund? Maybe they’re both crushing on each other and everyone knows except themselves, anything you wanna do really haha 😂 thanksss :)
A/N: Thanks for the request!!  God, I love Edmund so much. And here, we have indie boi Ed. This oneshot is inspired by  Electric Love by Børns. (Specifically, the video linked) This is one of my favorite songs, and I thought it fit the indie-main-character-high-school vibe :) I didn’t really nail the “everyone knows but them” thing, but still crushes! Enjoy ~
masterlist | here is a playlist of the songs in the mixtape mentioned | read on ao3
Edmund Pevensie was obsessed with listening to music, particularly with old musical technology. While it wasn’t uncommon to have a fascination with cassette tapes or vinyl records, it hit a special chord within Edmund’s heart. Something about listening to music, old and new, on the outdated tech made the music sound better, hit harder, and stick in his mind better. He was the type of guy who took the AUX on long car rides to play one of his thousand Spotify playlists. 
Another notable thing about Edmund was that he was very intelligent with very high standards for himself. He was a natural at academics, having been in advanced classes since he was young, and he was the guy everyone hated in math class. After dozing off in class, and mouthing off to the teacher every now and again, he still came out as the teacher’s favorite and a straight-A student. 
The majority of the time, though, he tended to keep to himself. While he was genuinely liked by his peers and was rather charming, he didn’t really consider anyone his friend. Unlike his older brother, Peter, he liked to remain closer to the shadows with earbuds in his ears. He knew he could never fill his brother’s shoes; Peter had basically come into Cair Paravel High School to be captain of the soccer team. He was so good that even though his grades were subpar at best, he received a full-ride scholarship to Archenland University to study sports medicine and play on their soccer team. 
Then there was his older sister, Susan, who won her Student Body President campaign by a landslide. Everyone liked Susan; she was patient, gentle, and got along with pretty much everyone. She too got a pretty large scholarship to Beruna State College and is double majoring in child education and European history. 
Finally, there was Edmund’s little sister, Lucy. She was only a freshman at Cair Paravel, and very into student council. Edmund thought she was practically made to be an ASB kid; she was excited, friendly, and much too kind. Lucy made the switch to high school seamlessly and had a big group of friends by the time the final bell rang on the first day. 
Edmund was a senior now and he couldn’t wait to get out of high school. The people were unintelligent, he was constantly compared to his siblings and he was ready to start his life. Edmund had high ambitions to become a lawyer, specifically criminal law. He didn’t really have much to leave behind at this school, so he was just trying to get through it as soon as possible.
One thing he would miss was the quiet girl that sat behind him in his music appreciation class. Edmund didn’t really want to take the class, but at the last minute, he discovered he needed to fulfill an arts credit to graduate. He appreciated music and liked easy classes, so he chose this one. Little did he know it was mostly analyzing classical pieces. 
Y/N was super cute in Edmund’s eyes. She always mumbled sarcastic comments whenever their easily excitable teacher, Mr. Tumnus, would stretch when over-analyzing a stanza of music. By the time October passed, Edmund had grown quite fond of the girl. She almost always was reading a comic book of some sort instead of paying attention in class. Y/N even ended up lending Edmund a few for his viewing pleasures; he always made sure to return them in the exact condition he received them. Batman seemed to Y/N’s favorite. 
Y/N loved watching Edmund write. He held his pencil wrong and always had ink smudged all over his hand. Maybe it was because he was a leftie, or maybe it was because he wrote too fast. Probably a little bit of both. His handwriting was also weirdly slanted to the right, which didn’t make any sense to Y/N. He was left-handed but his letters slanted to the right? Not the mention how half of it was in cursive and half of it was in print. It was definitely messy but, oddly enough, still intelligible. 
“What are you listening to?” Y/N asked Edmund. “Better not be Christmas music. Christmas was last month.”
Edmund pulled an earbud out of his left ear and turned so he was sitting horizontally in his chair. He leaned an arm on the top of her desk and grinned. “Currently, I’m listening to Can I Call You Tonight? By Dayglow. What are you reading?” 
“Currently, I’m reading Volume 1 of The New Teen Titans,” Y/N copied Edmund. “I’ve never heard of Dayglow, are they good?” 
Edmund smiled, offering her his earbuds. “Listen and see for yourself.” 
As she listened Edmund searched her face for any clue to what she’s thinking. Her face housed a small smile so he concluded that she enjoyed it. Once the song ended, she took out one of his earbuds and placed it on her desk. 
“I like it,” She concluded, listening to the next song. 
“Good, so do I. It fits my mood for today.”
“What’s got you so happy today? You have a great way of showing happiness, by the way.” Edmund was dressed in all black with his hood up. Edmund rolled his eyes. 
“What I can’t be in a good mood?” 
“I never said that, Pevensie. You just look very Edmund-y today.” Y/N pulled the other earbud out of her head and held them out to him.
“No, keep listening. I’ll play some music for you throughout class and maybe you can tell me what you think at the end?” He pulled his hood off of his head and smoothed out his hair. “And what do you mean Edmund-y?”
“I don’t know, all black, hood up, dead look in your eyes.” 
“I don’t have a dead look in my eyes!” Y/N giggled at her own joke. “Just for that, I’m going to take this.” He snatched the open comic book that laid open on her desk. 
For the remainder of the class, Edmund dictated what Y/N listened to from his phone. He played everything from The Beatles, to The 1975, to COIN, to Duran Duran. Every now and then, Edmund would peek his head back to see her eyes glued to the back of his head. Her body swayed to the music almost lazily, and a smile graced her features. For some reason that made his stomach feel fuzzy. 
She returned his earbuds at the end of class, and he returned her comic. 
“That was fun,” Y/N complimented, shoving her materials into her bag. “I like the get better song you played.”
“I Wanna Get Better by Bleachers,” Edmund corrected her as they left the classroom. Music Appreciation was the class of the day for them, seeing as they were seniors who left at lunch, so the two started making their way towards the parking lot. 
“You have to meet your sister right?” Y/N asks, pulling out her I.D. so she could leave campus. “The really sweet freshman girl? Honestly, you two are so different I wouldn’t have guessed you were siblings.” 
“Oh, Lucy, yeah. We grab lunch every Thursday before I drop her back off for the remainder of her classes.” The two showed their I.D.’s to the campus aid and walked into the parking lot. 
“That’s sweet. We should grab lunch sometime, or something. It could be fun! We could do our analysis questions about Bach.” Y/N started to walk in the opposite direction and Edmund felt his cheeks warm. Luckily, Y/N’s back was now towards him. 
“Yeah, sure. Don Giovanni, right?” 
Y/N’s laughter could be heard as she grew further away. “That’s Motzart, Pevensie!”
Edmund shook his head and met Lucy. She was leaning against his car looking bored. 
“Who was that? Is that your girlfriend?” Lucy asks, opening the door once Edmund unlocks the car. This made his cheeks flush more. 
“No, she’s just the girl that sits behind me in Tumnus,” Edmund puts the key in the ignition and starts the engine. 
“Then why are you blushing?”
“I’m not, Lucy. It’s just hot in the car, it’s been sitting out here for ages.”
~
 One day in the middle of March when Y/N walked into Music Appreciation, she noticed a small rectangle box on her desk. Upon opening it, she found a cassette and a note. The note looked as if it was typed using a typewriter. 
Y/N,
I’m not very good when it comes to words, but I’m good when it comes to music. Hopefully, this says it all. Enjoy, my love. 
Side A //
Electric Love / Børns
I Love You So / The Walters
Fallingforyou / The 1975
Your Song /  Elton John
Someone To You / BANNERS
Side B //
Babe, Can I Call? / The Hunna
Tonight (I Wish I Was Your Boy) / The 1975
Luv, Hold Me Down / Drowners
love somebody like you / joan
TV Dream / Larkins
Y/N didn’t recognize most of the songs, but just reading the titles made her blush. 
“Mr. Tumnus? Did you happen to see who left this on my desk?” She held up the cassette so he could see. He shook his head. 
“No, sorry.”
Other students started to trickle in and soon the bell rang, no trace of Edmund. It wasn’t uncommon for him to skip this class, it was basically pointless, but it made Y/N sad every time he wasn’t there. 
The door swings open and a drenched Edmund steps into the classroom. Without even looking up, Mr. Tumnus addresses him. 
“You’re late again, Mr. Pevensie.”
“Sorry, I got stuck behind a group of Sophmore girls who wouldn’t move.”
“In the rain?” Mr. Tumnus raised an eyebrow.
“No, if it was in the rain I would be wet right now, sir.”
He plopped into his seat and started raking his hands through his wet hair. His cheeks were slightly rosey, as were his nose. His lips were pinker than usual and they stayed slightly parted. Hair stuck to his forehead as he ran his fingers ran through it and the hair on the nape of his neck dripped down his back. Y/N had to stop herself from staring at him with her jaw unhinged. 
“What’s that?” He whispered, noticing the open present on Y/N’s desk. He had taken up sitting horizontal in his chair at all times so he could more easily talk to Y/N. 
“It’s a mixtape. It was left on my desk when I got here,” Y/N responded and handed him the note. Edmund took it and began to read; his eyes scanned the paper and his lips moved slightly as he read. Y/N couldn’t help her this time, so she allowed herself to stare. His lips were always so pink and so puffy. She fantasized about how soft they must be. 
“Wow, looks like someone really likes you,” He comments, placing the paper back on her desk. “Do you have a cassette player?”
Y/N didn’t even consider that. Who the hell has a cassette player in the year 2020? Apparently, her answer was evident on her face, and Edmund chuckles. He reaches into his bag and pulls out a walkman and a pair of earbuds. 
“Here, you can have mine. I got a new one last month and I don’t really use this one as much.”
Oh, Edmund has a cassette player in the year 2020. 
Y/N smiled, taking the player from his hand. “Thanks, Ed.”
“Wouldn’t want you to miss out on those songs. Whoever made that has good taste, you’re lucky.” 
~
When Y/N got home tonight, she took out her walkman. It sat easily in her palm, just big enough for the cassette to fit inside. On the bottom, “E.P.” was scratched into the plastic. She smiled and put her mixtape inside. 
As she listened, she couldn’t help but let her mind wander to Edmund. They had grown much closer in the past few months, even going lengths to hang out outside of school. Y/N learned that not only was Edmund extremely intelligent, but he was the funniest person Y/N had ever met. He always had a sarcastic comeback or joke to offer her, no matter the subject. He had also let many of his walls down, letting Y/N get to know him better. It all felt so comfortable and natural. No longer was he just the cute guy from Music Appreciation, but he was the pain in the ass that Y/N had fallen for. And Y/N had fallen hard. 
Against her first impression of the mixtape, Y/N had actually heard all of these songs. After the first day in January, Edmund had lent her his earbuds near-daily and she would listen to whatever he played for her. Her eyes widened. 
Why would Edmund carry around a cassette player he didn’t use? And to school for that matter? And the note; it was typed because Edmund had such distinct handwriting! Y/N rewound the cassette and listened to it again. Why didn’t she realize in the moment?
~
“Hello, Y/N,” Edmund greeted in the parking lot the morning, he happened to park next to Y/N. He gripped the coffee in his hand and got his backpack in the trunk. “How are you on this fine morning?”
“Tired, I stayed up, like, half the night listening to that cassette I got yesterday.” Y/N slung her own backpack over her shoulder. He closed his trunk and locked his car. 
“Yeah? And what did you think?” The two started walking towards the building. 
“I thought that the songs all sounded oddly familiar.”
Edmund took a long sip of his coffee. “Like you’ve heard them before?” 
“Mmhm,” Y/N hummed and walked onto campus. She held one of the straps of her backpack as she walked. “Almost as if this dumbass guy I know played them for me a while back,” Y/N’s voice was teasing and light. 
“Yeah? Who is this guy?” Y/N stopped walking and looked up at Edmund. 
“Thanks for the mixtape, Ed.” 
“Whaaaat...just because this guy has great taste in love songs doesn’t mean it was me. I’m flattered though, really,” Edmund took another long sip of his coffee. 
“Oh, what a pity. I actually got excited when I figured out it was you. Considering normal people don’t just carry cassette players in their backpacks. Especially not ones they don’t use anymore.” Y/N’s voice was thick with sarcasm. 
“Excited?”
“Yeah. I’ve kinda liked that Edmund guy for a while, but he doesn’t like me back so…”  
“You like me back?” Edmund was grinning from ear to ear. 
“Yes, babe, I like you back. I have since October since I started letting you borrow my comics,”
Edmund placed his coffee on a bench and pulled Y/N closer to him by the hips. 
“October, huh?” Y/N smiled bashfully at Edmund’s tone but nodded. 
“What? You’re cute, I couldn’t help myself. Plus, now you make me cute mixtapes.”
Edmund leans down and places his lips against hers. They were just as soft as she had imagined. Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck, her fingers quickly finding the hairs at the nape of his neck. He pulls away and leans his forehead against hers. 
“Be my girlfriend, then?”
“You nerd,” Y/N took a small step forwards and pecked his lips again. “I would love to.”
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lunetheaveragefan · 4 years
Text
one day...
Hi! Sorry this is a day late, but I tried my best. Chapter 4 might take a little longer to post since I haven’t started it yet, but I’m feeling super inspired so I’ll probably write some (if not most) of it this weekend. :)
A Sander Sides high school AU
Pairing: Prinxiety and some background Logicality
Summary: Virgil is used to being alone. He only has one friend, Logan. But when Logan makes a new friend, things begin to change as two more join their group. Roman, a boisterous theater kid, seems determined to destroy Virgil’s lonely, average life. How much will Virgil’s life change?
Warnings: Some cursing and quick mentions of bullying/making fun of. If you notice anything else, let me know!
Word Count: 1,639
okay, here’s chapter 3!
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CHAPTER THREE
The rest of the day, Virgil did his best to avoid Roman. He didn’t know if he could face him after the spectacle that morning, not to mention how much he had been thinking about his soft hair and tan skin and beautiful eyes.
Since when have Roman’s eyes been beautiful? Dammit, Virgil, get yourself together. He made fun of you all throughout middle school, nevermind what happened freshman year. People don’t change, you idiot. 
That afternoon, he walks, head down, to a nearby coffee shop to meet Logan to study, although Logan usually reads. He already knows everything; it’s Virgil who needs to study, but Logan has told Virgil dozens of times already that it doesn’t bother him.
That day, Virgil opens the door and scans the room for Logan. To his surprise, Logan is sitting at a booth nestled in the corner. Once he gets there, he slides into the seat, back into the curve of the corner.
“Why’d you get this table?” Virgil asks, pulling his folders, notebooks, and pencil out of his bag. “Do we really need all this space?” Logan looks up from his book.
“Uh…well, you see,” Logan stutters. Virgil is more sure than ever that something strange is going on with his friend. Logan takes a deep breath and starts over, “Well, I figured we’d need more space since I also have to do some work.”
“Oh, okay.” Virgil tries to keep his voice light, but he’s still skeptical. Logan likes having a schedule, and part of his weekly routine was every Thursday after school, without many exceptions, he got a small table by the window to study. Currently, there’s no one sitting at it, so there’s no reason for Logan to have picked this booth instead. 
Virgil forcefully drops the subject from his mind, knowing he needs to get to work. He has an English paper he needs to finish for tomorrow, and he’s barely a paragraph into it. Devoting most of his time to his art projects has made him behind for his other subjects. 
Flipping to the page in his notebook with his evidence and reasons, he opens a Google Doc on his computer and gets to work. The quiet is nice; there’s just the sounds of Virgil typing and Logan flipping pages, along with the background noise of the cafe. After working for about 20 minutes, Logan starts acting weird again.
Every few minutes, he’ll pick up his phone, checking the screen. For what, Virgil can’t tell, but he suspects Logan is checking to see if he’s gotten any texts. What Virgil is really wondering is who could possibly be so important or urgent that Logan would stop reading to check his phone, especially so often. It isn’t until a little later that it occurs to Virgil that Logan said he had work to do, but all he’d done up to that point was read. What is going on?
A few minutes later, Virgil gets his answer when the bell above the door chimes. He glances up instinctively. He looks back towards his essay before he can comprehend who just walked in, but when his brain catches up to his eyes, his head shoots up to find that the high schoolers who just walked in are now standing next to Logan and his booth.
“Heya, Logan and Virgil!” Patton says in his usual cheery voice. Virgil gives him a half smile back, although he’s still puzzled as to why he’s here. It could’ve been a coincidence, of course, but with Logan’s strangeness, he doesn’t think it is. It only makes Virgil more sure when he looks over to see Logan smiling from ear to ear. 
If Logan really did invite Patton, why is he here too? Virgil wonders. 
“Hey, Patton,” Virgil says. “What’re you doing here?” 
“Logan invited me!” comes the reply, and Patton smiles back at Logan, filled with his usual unabashed joy. Logan blushes, and Virgil puts a finger to his mouth and pretends to gag. Unfortunately, Logan sees and rolls his eyes, mouthing, “Don’t be a child.”
“You decided to bring a friend, I see,” Virgil states, looking at the boy standing next to Patton. 
“Yeah, when I heard it was to study, I figured I’d come along. I haven’t had much of a chance to, with the play and all,” says Roman almost bashfully. His hand rubs the back of his next as he looks at the floor. Virgil nods and turns back to his essay. 
“Sit down,” says Logan, gesturing to the booth. “Roman, you can sit next to Virgil, since Patton and I have to work on our chemistry lab.” Virgil snaps his gaze to Logan and glares at him. When the other boy doesn’t react — or even notice — Virgil takes a deep breath and continues working, considerably more stressed than before.
Roman plops down next to him and smartly decides to stay quiet. They all get to work, Patton and Logan chattering about some reaction of some sort from across the table while Roman and Virgil sit in silence, each working on their own homework or projects. Virgil doesn’t mind it; he’s got his headphones in and is therefore pretty much dead to the world, but not quite dead enough for him to miss the fact that anxiety has begun rolling off of Roman. 
Attempting to ignore it, Virgil turns up his music, but nothing can block out the awkward tension between the two boys. 
“I’m sorry for earlier,” Roman blurts out. Logan and Patton remain oblivious on the other side of the table. Hesitantly, Virgil pulls down his headphones. He wishes he didn’t have to, but he figures whatever Roman needs to say is important. “I should’ve looked before I threw my arm out like that. Could you ever forgive me?” He seems so sincere, yet Virgil can’t find it in him to trust him. But those eyes. 
“I forgive you,” mumbles Virgil, cursing Roman’s chocolate eyes. He’s like a goddamn wounded puppy. Before Virgil can pull up his headphones again, Roman speaks.
“So, what are you working on?” His smile is bright and friendly. Why does he want to be my friend all of a sudden? He’s never been nice to me before. For a while, he was downright rude, and then he just started pretending I didn’t exist. Not that I minded.
“Just an essay for English,” Virgil replies, forcing himself to stay neutral. Socializing has never been his strong suit, but after a while, he’d learned how to fake it. “Uh...what are you doing?” 
Roman frowns before responding, “This stupid algebra homework. I just don’t understand math.” He appears angry for a second before smiling again, almost as if he felt he had to pretend everything was okay. Virgil knew quite a bit about pretending. He did it for years before realizing people did, indeed, give a shit about him. Like Logan, for example.
Virgil glanced over at him, but he was still in deep, animated conversation with Patton. From what Virgil could hear, they had gone quite off task from chemistry. Something’s definitely off. Logan was the most responsible person he knew, and always made an effort to study and work when needed. Virgil had never seen Logan get off task when there was something that had to be done.
But that’s a matter for a different time. Right now, there is a boy sitting next to him that he had to talk to. 
“Do you, uh, need any help? I took that class last year, so I should be able to help you.” 
“Really?” Roman asks, his face lighting up. Virgil nods, hands dropping from his headphones. “Thanks, Virgil!” 
Now, Virgil had never thought of his name much before. He’d always liked it, but he didn’t think much of it. But when Roman said it, so full of happiness and spirit, Virgil realized how cool it was. The sharpness of the ‘v,’ the slow, drawn out sound of the ‘l’ at the end. Quickly, Virgil bent over Roman’s paper to see what exactly he was working on, letting his hair fall in front of his face to hide the blush seeping across his cheeks. 
What the hell is going on with me? This is Roman Princeford. He’s arrogant and rude and selfish. He doesn’t think about anyone but himself.
Yet, after Virgil helped him with his algebra, Roman offered to help out with his paper. When he found out it was about Shakespeare, he insisted upon reading it. Surprisingly, the comments he made after reviewing it were pretty helpful. Virgil discovered after a while of small talk about school and typical human topics that he didn’t completely despise Roman’s presence. Sure, his over dramatizing of things was a little annoying, but everyone has their flaws, right?
Virgil didn’t know if he could ever forgive Roman for what happened in middle school or freshman year, but maybe they were on their way to some sort of understanding. 
And, although Virgil will never admit it out loud, he can acknowledge that Roman Princeford is a very handsome guy. 
Once he gets home, feeling confident that his English paper is the best it’s going to get, and finishes everything else he needs to do, he lies down on his bed. He tries to listen to music, but all he can think about was how much Roman had thrown him off today. He’d seemed to want to help Virgil. There wasn’t a single rude comment or excessive bragging session. 
When Virgil realizes he’s smiling while thinking about earlier, he quickly banishes all those thoughts from his mind and rolls over onto his side. Pulling a blanket up to his chin, he burrows under the covers. You are not going to start enjoying hanging out with Roman Princeford. No way. And you most definitely don’t have a crush on him. He starts to think about winter break coming up in a month and a half and wonders what he’ll get his cousins for Christmas. Quicker than usual, he falls to sleep.
The dream Virgil has that night about kissing Roman doesn’t mean anything. Does it?
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korra-the-red-lion · 3 years
Text
Unnatural Affairs. Chapter 16: Are You Crazy?
(Ally + Lyn + Michael)
Michael.
The text I received that morning was the most wonderful thing in the world.
The test results were in.
I got out of bed quickly, making sure to text the group chat before heading out the door. If I was being honest, I wasn’t actually that excited to know what the results were, but at least we might a confirmation of some sorts that will help us with the case! I threw on my heavy jacket and dashed out the door, not even caring about how early it was.
Making my way across campus towards the lab, I wondered what it was that we would find. Would the slime sample actually be human DNA? What if there was nothing at all? What if this had all been for nothing. I really hoped it wasn’t the last one. I still had really wicked headaches every now and then, and I’m pretty sure Lyn’s arm was going to scar from those nasty claw wounds. Not that I had the guts to tell her that.
I quickly unlocked the door to the lab and walked in, smiling when I saw Lamar already waiting for me. Lamar was the 3rd year who I had mentioned liked me who would probably help us out, and I was glad that I was right about that. I clapped him on the back and leaned against the counter, practically vibrating with energy.
“What’s the news, bud?” I asked.
“Like I texted you, the results came back,” he said as he reached for the tablet. “Something that I found interesting, however, was this.” He pointed to one of the results on the screen.
I looked at them with interest, instantly noticing that there was more than one DNA result. Now, that wouldn’t be totally unusual had this been a normal situation, because only God knows what could be on the wall of a locker room, but the fact that I had pulled the sample from a very small and specific site should have meant that there was very little to no contamination. However, I could see that there were at least 3 different results.
The first one wasn’t too surprising, belonging to one Jackie Park. That was the girl who got attacked by that freaky monster. The second one belonged to someone named Fredrik Moore, which wasn’t too surprising because Ally just told us about him the other day. It was the third result that was startling to me, because I didn’t recognize it at all. The DNA belong to someone named Jerimiah Kinkly. It was only after staring at the name for several minutes that it clicked. Kinkly. Like Professor Kinkly?!
“Thanks for this, Lamar,” I said, not taking my eyes off the screen. “Can you email this to me?”
“Absolutely,” he said, quickly doing just that.
I was just about to bolt to go tell Ally about this in person, when he reached over to grab my wrist. I looked over to him in question.
“What is this all about?” he asked, hand waving at the tablet. “I agreed to help, but this seems a lot deeper than a simple science project.”
“If I could tell you, I would,” I gently removed his hand from my wrist. “Unfortunately, there is nothing I could say that could make this make sense.”
Concern crossed over his face. “Is this dangerous, Michael? Is that how you ended up with that horrible concussion?”
I tried to go for an easy smile, but I think it came out more like a grimace. “Seriously, man, don’t worry about it. Everything is under control.” I hated lying to anyone, but especially my friends. The look of disbelief on Lamar’s face was almost enough to make me spill the beans, but I couldn’t do that to Ally.
“If you say so…” he looked extremely unsure as he stepped away, crossing his arms together. “Just be careful, Michael. No one here wants to see you get hurt again.”
“I’ll do my best,” I promised. I left after that, feeling like a weight just got added to my chest. I honestly couldn’t believe how deep this whole thing had gone. It started as wanting to help figure out who attacked an innocent student to evolving into solving the murders of several different people at this school.
The sad part was thinking of how no one looked into the mysterious circumstances of their deaths. Each time they agreed it was just suicide. Did no one think to ask why a student who just finished his exams would jump to his death? No one questioned the graphic nature of another student’s death? It was just another example of how terrible our policing system was. They were too willing to take the easy answer.
I looked over to the tree where Dahlia Cressman’s spirit resided. Why were there so many dead people on this campus? The thought of that alone was unsettling. It was almost as unsettling as knowing that the murderer was still on campus, with Ally dropping that bomb on us this morning. I would never tell my mom that she was right for saying that this wasn’t a safe school, but damn was she right. I would have to get her a really nice gift for her birthday to let her know.
I glanced at my phone, wondering if there was enough time for us to meet before class. I knew that my class started at 9:30, and Ally had a class at 9:30 as well. I didn’t know Lyn’s schedule but it was clearly busy so she usually couldn’t meet with us until the evening or on Fridays. At the very least, I could tell Ally before our respective classes.
I managed to catch her at meal hall, where she was working her way through some peanut butter toast. I slid in next to her, and she looked over in mild surprise.
“Hey, Michael,” she said through a mouth full of toast.
“Hey, did you see my text?”
She nodded, covering her mouth with a hand. “I did, yeah. Did you get to see them already?”
“Yes!” I pulled the email up, showing the results to her.
Ally’s brow furrowed in concern as she slowly read it over. Her lip curled inwardly as she looked away, clearly thinking deeply. I gave her a minute to work through her thoughts before asking her what she was thinking about.
“It’s just something…” she pulled open her bag as she muttered under her breath. Ally pulled out the notebook that she’s been writing all the case notes in, reading it over quickly. Finally, she let out a small gasp.
“What is it?” I asked, looking over her shoulder. Her handwriting was so messy in the book, and I wasn’t sure where to look for the shocking note that she jotted down that was causing her reaction.
“Dahlia told me something a while ago, but so much as happened since then,” she explained quickly, flipping through the book, “that I forgot about it. She told me that there was two people in the Athletic Centre, but that one of them had died when the campus had been first built or sometime before it. The other, who I bet money on is Fiona Moore, resided there since she died. Here where it doesn’t make sense, because your results suggest that her brother is one of the spirts there. So why is there another person? Kinkly? Is his related to our Drama prof? And why didn’t Dahlia tell me there were three people there?” She ran her hand through her hair, blowing her breath out in frustration through pursed lips.
“Maybe she didn’t know?” I suggested.
“Maybe…” she mumbled. “Still, I think I’d better check with her.”
“Good idea,” I said. “Why don’t we do that later?”
She nodded firmly. “Sounds like a plan. We can get Lyn, and all go together. Even if you guys can’t see her, I think it’s better if you’re there for this.”
“Okay,” I said. “But make sure this doesn’t consume you all day, yea’?”
“I’ll try my best but make no promises.”
“Good enough for me.”
We left shortly after that, heading to our classes. Though I told her not to overthink it, I ended up mulling it over all throughout Finite Math. There was so much going on, and it was starting to feel like there was no end to this rabbit hole. If this little bit was getting to me, I wondered how Ally was coping with this all?
XXX
Lyn.
I think I was starting to dissociate a bit.
I was sitting at my usual table before practice, my textbook open in front of me but I was staring off into space. My lack of proper sleep was catching up to me, and the weekend just made everything so much worse. I should have just asked Olivia if she wanted to do something alone with me instead, but the choice had been made, so I had to live with the consequences.
I had music playing, but even with my headphones on it sounded far away. I whacked my knee before sitting down, and while I was aware that it should hurt, it didn’t really feel like anything. I only felt like this a couple of times before, so I knew it was pretty bad. Maybe I should try talking to that woman again, the mental health lady. I couldn’t even remember her name.
I saw the texts from Michael and Ally, but I had no energy to answer them. I just had stared blankly at them before putting my phone face down, so I didn’t have to see them anymore. Now here I was, staring up at the ceiling, wondering how much longer it was until practice was. But my brain felt like it was in a fog, I had no real concentration. Finally, I gave up on pretending I was doing work. I packed it all away and headed for the pool.
When I got there, no one else was around just yet. That was okay with me. I changed into my swimsuit and pulled on my sweatpants. I walked to the pool slowly, hoping that the feeling would soon go away. The heat of the pool was there, but it didn’t do much for me. I couldn’t really feel it. I just starting do my warmup exercises when I heard the voices of the others starting to drift in.
Sit up. Hold. Down. Repeat. Going through the motions of the crunches wasn’t doing much for me. It didn’t even feel like I was doing anything. I was looking up at the ceiling of the pool when Loryn’s face appeared over mine, concern etched in her features.
“Hey,” I said dully.
“Hey,” she echoed softly. “Can I sit with you?”
I nodded, not making any effort to move from my spot. I was pretty sure the others were coming over to see what was going on, but Loryn shooed them away.
“Is it okay if I touch you?” Loryn asked gently, her hand hovering over mine. I nodded again and shuddered when the warmth of her hand covered mine. It was the first sensation I had since Ally grabbed my hand yesterday. “Is this okay?”
“Yeah,” my voice sounded so tired to my own ears.
“What’s going on, Lyn? Can you tell me?”
“You’re being very nice to me,” I noted dryly.
“You’re avoiding the question,” she said firmly.
I sighed heavily, feeling a little bit of tension leave my body. “I’m processing some shit.”
Loryn frowned. She ran her thumb over my hand, her eyes crinkled in thought. “Processing what? Does it have something to do with your weekend home?”
I’m not sure why, because it wasn’t funny at all, but I laughed. I laughed so hard that I couldn’t breathe, my hand covering my face. Loryn’s hand squeezed mine, but she waited until I stopped before saying anything.
“Lyn?” The concern was so obvious in her voice, it made me feel sick to my stomach.
“Yeah, something happened,” I said bitterly. “I fucking hate going home because everything is shit. Leigh and I got into it with one another and mum is a fucking sociopath who gets sick enjoyment watching us all squirm as she bullies us. I shouldn’t have gone but I had this insane notion that maybe, just maybe if I did, I could fix my stupid broken relationships with my sisters at least! But here I am, miserable because I was a bloody optimist, and I got burned for it. I can’t sleep a full night’s sleep and haven’t been able to since before what happened to Jackie and I just want it all to stop!”
My chest was heaving, and my eyes were prickly, but I felt a little bit better after getting it all out. I refused to remove my hand from my eyes, instead opting to lie there with my eyes closed tight.
“What…what do you mean?” Loryn’s voice sounded hesitant. “You want what to all stop?”
“I dunno…” I took a deep breath to stop myself from shaking. “I’m just so fucking exhausted, Loryn. I don’t think I can keep going like this.”
Loryn reached over, taking my hand off my face. I cracked open a single eye, only to shut it again when I saw the look of fear in her eyes. “No, Lyn, please look at me,” she said quietly.
So, I did. I opened my eyes and looked over at my friend, whose face was twisted up with conflicting emotions. Why did I always feel sick when someone looked at me that way? I didn’t need them to pity me more or anything. I know that’s not what Loryn was doing at all, but it felt that way.
“Lyn,” she started softly, “I need you listen to what I’m saying, okay? You have to relax. No more pushing yourself to the limits. I am your friend, and I’m saying this because I care about you so much, but it’s fucking ridiculous how much pressure you’re putting on yourself. You don’t need to prove anything to anyone, not anymore. You’ve shown how bright you are, how caring you are, and how much effort you put into everything. Forget them and focus on you.”
I stared into her eyes and a realization came to me slowly. Loryn cared about me, this I knew. But the reason why I always felt sick when I saw someone looking at me that way was because no one ever looked at me like that while growing up. Someone actually giving a shit about me was so alien to me that I reacted negatively each time I saw it.
“Focus on me…?” I repeated slowly, my own voice unsure. I sat up a little, blinking rapidly. “Loryn, I’m not sure how to do that.”
Loryn smiled at me, with a small shake of her head. “I know, you dumbass. That’s why we’re here for you. You just have to tell us what you need, okay?”
What I need? I looked around, taking in the sights around me for the first time. I saw Andrew standing nearby, twisting his cap in his hands in a fit of nervous energy. Kerry and Matt stood close enough that they could be there right away, both looking worried. Tammy and Emma sat on the blocks, talking to each other but clearly keeping an eye on me. Maddie was making sure that Will didn’t make his way over at all. I shifted to my knees, feeling overwhelmed with feelings. I…how could I be so blind? These idiots were here for me last year, yet I was so wrapped in my own drama that I never noticed it, but I could see it clearly now. We were family, like Coach Jacob said at the start of the season. These people, they were here for me, if I needed it. Just like we were for Gunner. Just like we were for Jackie.
“Loryn…I-” I choked. I was shaking as I reached over, pulling her into a crushing hug. “I need help,” I practically whispered the last part.
She reached up, running her hand through my hair. “I know, Lyn, I know. We’ve got you.”
Next thing I knew, they were all there. The whole thing was so overstimulating, and I felt myself dissociating again, but that was fine. I sat there under their smothering hugs, staring off into space again. Help, that’s what I needed. Someone who I could talk to about everything, all the abuse, all the impossible expectations. I knew deep down it wasn’t going to be easy for me, these kinds of things never were. We were always told that people who needed metal health help were weak, because they were unable to cope with ‘daily stressors’ but I knew this wasn’t true. I saw Ally, how she dealt with all the shit life threw at her, but it didn’t make her weak. If anything, Ally was stronger than I ever could be.
I closed my eyes, resting my head on Loryn’s shoulder. Right now, I felt weak. And that was okay.
XXX
Ally.
Now I promised Michael I wasn’t going to be obsessive all day about this, and I think for the most part I kept that promise. Key word being most.
It’s just that the whole thing was extremely concerning and interesting to me. I truly believed that Dahlia didn’t keep something from me intentionally, which led me to believe that she really wasn’t aware of Fredrik’s presence in the locker room. Which led me wondering how he managed to escape her notice. Like I’ve said before, somehow answers always ended up leading to more questions. It was a wonder how I haven’t torn my hair out yet in frustration.
I looked down at my notebook, filled with all the information that the others and I have gathered so far. The most shocking piece of the puzzle was this Jeremiah Kinkly fellow. There was a very slim chance that he wasn’t related to our dreadful Drama professor. How was Professor Kinkly connected in all of this? Was he even? Was it merely coincidence that this name showed up at all? I was starting to get a headache from all of thoughts buzzing around in my head.
I was so wrapped up in my thoughts that I never even noticed when this guy approached my table. He rapped his knuckles against the hardwood, causing me to jump in surprise. I looked up at him, blinking in confusion.
“Yes?”
He smirked at me, making my stomach flipped uncomfortably. “Hey, babe, I was wondering if I could sit with you? There’s no available seats.”
Babe? Excuse me? I looked around and noticed there were several empty seats. I turned back to him, raising an eyebrow in question. “Actually, I’m pretty sure there are a bunch around. Maybe take a second look?”
“Well,” he drawled, leaning down into my space, “I just wanted to sit with a hot girl like you. Is that okay?”
I shook my head, really taking this guy in. He had dark hair that was combed back and hawkish features. He was good looking, but I couldn’t shake the predatory feeling I was getting off of him. It was making me uneasy.
“Sorry?” He looked shocked. “Are you actually saying no to me? You know there’s nothing stopping me from sitting here if I wanted to, right? Stop being a bitch.”
“Stop being a bitch?!” I stood up, glaring at him fiercely. “I’m not being a bitch because I don’t what some asshole sitting with me!”
Whatever he was going to say next was cut off when someone angrily said, “Derek, get the fuck away from her, you creep.”
I looked behind me to see Lyn and Loryn standing behind me, anger in their eyes. I have to admit, while I felt I had this under control, seeing Lyn glaring at this guy and protecting me had a certain sexiness to it.
“Lyn!” He went from annoyed to smarmy in a flash. “How have you been doing, sexy?”
“None of your business,” she snarled at him, fury in her eyes. “I’m pretty sure I made it clear I didn’t want to have anything to do with you anymore. Now, don’t you have someone else to bother? Where’s Poppy at?”
The guy, Derek, shrugged lazily. “Dumped her a while back. She was fun for awhile, but she was looking for something more committed. I wasn’t about to do that for her. Anyway, I’m not sure why you give a damn who I talk to, so I’m pretty sure this chick here is free game.”
“I’m not a piece of property!” I snapped.
When Derek didn’t step away, both Lyn and Loryn stepped closer so they were beside me. Derek sized us all up, and maybe after seeing how much more fit the two swimmers were, decided it wasn’t worth the fight. He shrugged away, running a hand through his hair.
“Whatever,” he grumbled. “Forgot what a cunt you could be, Lyn.”
Lyn’s face coloured with anger, but it was Loryn who shoved a hand into his chest. “I never fucking want to hear you speak to Lyn or any other girl like that again, you bastard,” she growled menacingly. “If I do, you’ll regret ever making an enemy of Loryn Frasier.”
He rolled his eyes and finally walked away, clearly making the right decision in not saying anything else. After he was fully out of our sights, Loryn looked over her shoulder at me.
“You okay?” she asked.
I nodded. “Thanks. I think I had it under control, but the help was appreciated.”
“Yeah, sorry,” said Lyn, looking bashful. “I figured you were okay, but Derek is awful. Even looking at him makes my skin crawl. We saw what was happening and just reacted.” She tugged at her ear, staring down at her shoes.
“Who was he anyway?”
“My ex,” sighed Lyn. “One of them, anyhow.”
“Seriously one of the worst decisions you’ve ever made in your entire life,” commented Loryn.
“Shut up, I know.”
That was Lyn’s ex? Ugh, he was a piece of work. I scowled in his direction one last time before moving on. It was one bad conversation, hopefully it wouldn’t happen again. Shaking my head, I looked over to the two of them. Loryn caught my eye and patted Lyn on the shoulder, pulling her close. She whispered something, which Lyn nodded to. Sparing her friend one last thoughtful look, Loryn waved goodbye to us as she left us alone.
We stood there silently for a few seconds as Lyn continued to look down at her shoes. She seemed a little less tense than she did yesterday, but she looked even more tired. I tapped my shoe against hers, knocking her out of her thoughts.
She looked up, our eyes meeting. I smiled at her, and eventually she smiled back. Not one of those fake smiles that she’s been using, but a real one. It was small, but it was there. And, there was a brightness to her eyes that hadn’t been there in a while.
“Sorry I didn’t answer your text,” she said almost shyly. “I was processing some stuff. I’m feeling a little better, so I wanted to see what you wanted in person.”
“Only if you’re feeling better,” I said.
“Honestly, I still feel like shit,” she snorted. “But I made a breakthrough. I’m not feeling fantastic, but I’m feeling well enough that I could come and be here for you tonight.”
“If you’re sure,” I nodded. “I just wanted you and Michael to be here when I spoke to Dahlia Cressman tonight. I’m hopeful we’ll get some answers.”
We started walking out of the library. Lyn had a thoughtful look on her face, but I was hesitant to push her for her thoughts, so I didn’t ask what was on her mind. We walked over to the tree where Michael was already waiting for us, shivering from the cold. He perked up when he recognized us in the dark.
“Thank God you’re here,” he said to me as we approached. “People kept staring at me.”
“Welcome to my world,” I laughed.
“Soooo, what’s the plan?” he asked, looking over at the tree. Lyn and I looked over as well.
“I’m hopefully going to get some answers,” I declared.
“Answers for what, Ally?”
The air pressure changed as Dahlia appeared in front of me, her arms crossed with a disinterested look. Instinctively, Michael stepped closer to me, hand going to my shoulder. For his comfort or mine, I wasn’t sure. If Lyn noticed the difference in the air, she didn’t show it. She was staring at the tree with curiosity, rocking on the balls of her feet.
“Hi, Dahlia,” I said cheerfully.
“I hope for both of our sake’s you’re not trying to press more answers out of me that I cannot give,” she said coolly.
Using my free arm that wasn’t currently being used as a crutch, I pulled out my notebook. I flipped to the page I was looking forward, with the information with Fiona and Fredrik Moore. I held it up so she could read it clearly. Her eyes skimmed the page, the curiosity lighting up in her eyes. She looked at me when she was finished, tilting her head.
“What’s this all about?”
“See, that’s where it gets interesting,” I said, flipping to the page with what she told me about the Athletic Centre. “See here? This is what you told me after we got back from the hospital. You told me that there were two spirits currently lingering there. However, these recent DNA results,” I pulled out the printed results, “suggest to us that there are three lingering attachments. I was hoping you would know anything about that.”
Dahlia stared at me for a couple of minutes, her face carefully controlled to show nothing. Then she broke out in a mischievous grin, amusement twinkling in her eyes.
“Doesn’t it feel better once the pieces start to fit together nicely?” Dahlia looked at all three of us, the grin still in place. “When I told you that there were two spirits haunting the Athletic Centre, I wasn’t being dishonest. Technically, there are only two lingering attachments. But see, there is where it gets a little tricky, Ally. Tell me, what are the names you have?”
“Uh, Fiona and Fredrik Moore, and Jeremiah Kinkly.”
Dahlia nodded. She stepped back, leaning against the tree. “Fiona is correct. I remember the day she died, very tragic. Jeremiah as well, though I wasn’t there for his death. He died during the construction of the campus. You can look into that, darling, but according to the others he fell from the building when the windows were being put in. Fredrik, on the other hand, is not a lingering spirit.”
“Huh?” I was confused. How did that make any sense? The other two looked over, and Michael squeezed my shoulder.
“What did she say? I can hear whispers on the wind but I’m not picking up any words,” he whispered, eyes darting around the area.
I quickly recapped what she told me. Michael rubbed his chin in thought, while Lyn glanced over to where Dahlia was. I looked over too, noticing for the first time Dahlia was staring at Lyn intently. That was strange. Dahlia must have realized I caught her staring, because she looked away, her face giving nothing away. I made a mental note of that.
“What does that mean?” Lyn asked, turning her attention to me.
“I’m not sure,” I replied honestly. “Can you tell me what that means, Dahlia?”
Dahlia’s eyes flickered to me as she nodded. “He was brought here against his will. He made peace with his death, but something brought him back. That monster was in fact him, transformed by the person who forced him back into the world of the living.”
I covered my mouth in horror. I read about that recently. Someone could try to bring a spirit back, but unless they had the proper training to do it safely, the results could be disastrous. Is that what happened? Who would do that? My stomach was churning with discomfort even at the thought of someone doing something so irresponsible. Taking a deep breath, I recalled what she just told me to the others.
“That’s…that’s so horrible!” Michael squeaked out, fear constricting his throat. Lyn pressed her hands to her ears, just shaking her head.
“We have to go back…” I whispered, staring at Dahlia, who nodded when I said that.
“Go back where?” Lyn asked, giving me a skeptical look.
I hesitated before swallowing my fear. “The locker room, we have to go back.”
“Are you crazy!” Lyn shook her head in disbelief. “Remember what happened last time we went there? I fucking do, that’s for sure.”
“Yea’, is that really the best idea, Ally?” Michael added, his face pale with fear.
I nodded slowly, “Yes, I’m sure. We need to talk to Fiona, for real this time. I understand if you guys don’t want to go with me, I really do. I can go alone.”
“Don’t be an idiot,” snapped Lyn, flicking my forehead. I rubbed the spot as she crossed her arms. “Of course, I’ll go with you. Just know I think this is incredibly idiotic.”
I smiled at her, and she smiled back. I looked over at Michael, who gave me a heaving sigh. “I’m going too, obviously. I just get to complain the whole time. Also, I’m calling dibs on being the one who doesn’t get concussed this time.”
“Deal,” I laughed, reaching over to give him a hug.
I have to admit, this is a great relief. I really didn’t want to go into this alone, and it meant the world to me that they were willing to come with me, even with what happened last time. It was nice, this feeling. The feeling of no longer being alone. It was enough to make me tear up, but I quickly swiped at my eyes so they didn’t notice. Obviously I wasn’t sneaky enough, because Lyn silently reached down and took my hand into hers, rubbing her thumbs against my knuckles in comfort.
“Is that everything, then?” Dahlia asked, boredom lacing her words.
“For now, it is,” I smiled at her. “Thanks, really. You’ve been a great help tonight.”
If a ghost could blush, I’m pretty sure she just did. She twirled her hair around her finger, looking away from me. “You’re welcome, glad to be of service. Stay safe out there, Ally. Tell your friends the same thing.”
I watched as she disappeared from view. The air pressure changed back to normal, and Michael gasped beside me, but Lyn didn’t, basically confirming to me that she can’t sense anything that went on. That must be a lovely feeling. She did, however, look over where Dahlia had last been standing.
“Did she leave?”
“Yeah, she did.”
“Good. I felt like I was being watched.”
Huh, interesting. I made a mental note of that too. Actually, since I was thinking about it, I decided to bite the bullet. “Lyn?”
“Hm?”
“I was wondering something. You looked like there was something on your mind earlier before we got here. What were you thinking about?”
Michael looked curious as Lyn mulled over her answer. Finally, she just shrugged. “My dad’s last name is Cressman.”
“Your dad? Michael and I said at the same time. He grinned at me, and I smiled back.
Lyn nodded, as she starting to walk away from the tree. I followed with no choice, since our hands were still together, and Michael followed not wanting to be left behind. “Yeah, my dad. Hart is my mum’s last name,” a dark look crossed over her face for a second before settling back to neutral. “It’s probably just a coincidence though. It’s a common surname from Ontario, you know?”
A coincidence, huh? I glanced over my shoulder as we walked away, only to see Dahlia sitting up in the branches, watching us as we left. I wonder if that’s all it was.
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hargrove-mayfields · 3 years
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You’ve Set my Soul to Dreaming  Pt. 1
Christmas has always been Steve Harrington’s time to shine. 
It wasn’t that it was his favorite time of year; darkness falling at 5pm bummed him out, and the heat in his house was never good enough to stand up to the freezing, unpredictable Hawkins weather. Overall, he preferred the spring, when the sun was warm and the breeze was cool and the flowers were blooming. 
But festivity, that suited him well, and, probably more than anything, so did giving people things. In the non-physical sense, he always gave his all to ensure that everyone around him was happy. 
Whether that was a good character trait or a flaw on his part he had yet to decide, but nobody could say that Steve Harrington was selfish. Sometimes it felt like he gave so much away that there wasn’t even much of him left at all, so much as just who he tried to be for his friends, for his parents.
Literally though, he was the best at presents too. Maybe it was the unlimited bank account, or just the fact that he was so considerate, but everyone always loved what he bought, or made, in the case of the few exes who’d refused material possessions over a heartfelt, handmade gift. (ugh) 
That’s why, every year, he couldn’t help but buy as many presents as possible. For his mum, his friends, though the supply of those was getting rather sparse recently, the kids he babysat, their parents, the neighbors, the house keepers, his teachers, pretty much just anybody who he could possibly think of a reason to give them something got an expensive little novelty in hopes that he'd get to see their grateful reaction.
Sometimes he wondered if they just faked it to make him feel better about himself, but he kept doing it anyhow because it did make him feel better about himself, thank you very much. 
Especially because recently, there was a lot going on to feel not so good about.
This would mark the tenth year in a row that his parents flew out to the tropics, where it didn’t snow or reach temperatures even half as cold as Indiana, and that’d been fine and dandy for a while, since before, he was living in the childish daydream being home alone, and after that he’d always had someone to spend it with.
But this year, this year he’d be all alone, in his mansion big enough for half of the city’s population to fit inside, and he’d been feeling pretty lousy about it since they informed him of the trip in early December. 
That and the fact that he’d almost been killed a handful of times literally a month ago didn’t bode too well for his Christmas spirit. 
Steve Harrington didn’t back down from a little hardship though, so what if he was plagued by a sense of crippling loneliness and nightmares bad enough to keep him awake for days on end, that just wouldn't be enough to keep him from rising to the occasion. 
‘Tis the season to shove aside all that troubles you and put the needs of others before your own right? 
So the morning of the fifteenth, the last day before winter break, Steve does as he always does and ditches his books, opting to instead stuff his backpack full of presents. 
They’re wrapped terribly, he’s never been too good with his hands, and recently they’ve started to shake when he gets too nervous, so it’s kind of, lumpy, wrinkled, way too much wrapping paper on tiny boxes, but he’s happy with it. Even if he stabbed himself with the scissors about a million times and got tape in his hair trying to get them wrapped. 
Another of Steve’s holiday trademarks is ugly sweaters. He has exactly twenty five of them, one for every day leading up to Christmas, and he wears them religiously. 
These aren’t just any old tacky sweaters either, they’re homemade, the ugliest of the ugly. 
His gramma had done basically nothing but knit in her free time, so when she heard that her grandbaby wanted a Christmas sweater and couldn’t find one that wasn’t made out of wool, (side bar, he was extremely allergic, like, life-threateningly so) she made him enough to last him the entire month of December up to Christmas Day. 
Thank heavens she was terrible with sizes, so they all still fit if not just a little snugly even about 10 years after she made them. By now they were somewhat faded and pilled and riddled with loose threads, but they were soft as all hell and one of a kind, so he didn’t bother with replacing them. 
This particular morning he’d chosen a white sweater embroidered with tiny versions of his childhood poodle Charlie in her little Christmas hat, the first his gramma did without a pattern, and his absolute favorite. 
Maybe everyone else though it was dumb how into the whole thing he got, but nothing made him happier than pulling up to the school in a sweater from ‘74 with a bag full of overpriced knickknacks. 
Steve started his day by giving Jonathan and Nancy their gifts in the cafeteria before the first bell rang, since they wouldn’t all three see each other again throughout the rest of the day, and he could barely contain his excitement. 
Watching his friends carefully pull apart the crummy wrap job he’d done was probably one of the best feelings ever, in his opinion. Or maybe it was just the knowing that he’d put a thoughtful effort into making other people happy combined with the fact that he was using all that hoarded wealth that went towards nothing but funding his parents trips to bring someone a gift that would mean more to them than those wasteful luxuries. 
Whatever it was that compelled him so, it was enough that he had to stuff his hands in his pockets and bite his tongue to keep from making a fool of himself in front of the whole school while he waited for Nancy and Jonathan to open their presents. 
This year he’d reined the budget in a little, since last Christmas he’d gone just a little bit overboard with a $300 camera for Jonathan and a necklace and a ring for Nancy that cost him a 7th of his (very expensive) car payment. He still probably spent more than was considered normal, just not enough that his parents would notice the huge sum of money missing this time.
They didn’t have a whole lot of time before the bell would ring and they would split off to their respective classes, but it was enough that Steve got to see their reactions and revel in the hug Nancy gave him on behalf of the both of them. 
He’d opted to get Jonathan a bag for the camera he’d gotten him last year, since you never know when something could happen to it, and before he even had it all the way unwrapped, Jonathan was getting his camera out of the bag he already used to put it in the new one. 
Nancy got a bag this year too, but hers was a fancy designer thing he’d picked out of a catalog meant for his mother. He figured she’d need it for when she went off to college, or got the journalist job she’d been telling him about for a year and a half. 
Heading off for first period, he already felt the swell of pride that comes with the season, and he could not wait to hand out the rest. 
Perhaps another of his favorite parts was that, giving people things was the secret to saving his reputation when he was the way he was. 
Everyone knew Steve Harrington was the “up to no good” type, who bought weed off of the shady guys camping out at parties, and got in your daughters panties just to promptly break her heart, and who fails all of his classes and barely scrapes by in high school. 
But then he shows up in a hand knitted sweater and with a candy cane between his lips to spread his Christmas cheer, and suddenly all is forgiven, and he is transformed into the sweet Harrington boy who always gave the most thoughtful gifts. 
First on the list was Mrs. Click, the history teacher he’d been stuck with since sophomore year. 
History was by far his worst subject, and Mrs Click wasn’t the type to make sure you understood before she sprung a pass or fail pop quiz, so he’d failed her class twice. 
Even with how stupid she had to think he was, the bright smile on her bitter old face when he handed over the little box with a large Givenchy brooch inside meant that he’d earned his redemption for the third year in a row. 
Next was the tie-pin for Mr. Cook, the Spanish teacher, a little golden thing that had cost him more than he’d like to admit and earned him a pat on the back. He was good enough at remembering what he had to know in Spanish, but reading and speaking it? He might as well have been completely illiterate. 
His pronunciations were so poor that even the chunky ruby inlay was almost not enough to save face, but in the end his ego got its booster anyhow. 
The rest of the day went on like that: a bottle of Mon Parfum for Miss Foster, the English teacher, a SoundBand for the coach, a gift card to the most expensive store he could think of for Mrs.  Hall, and so and so forth, each giving him that same rush of confidence, a sense that he was doing something important until he was practically floating through the halls. 
By seventh period math, he’s only got two gifts left. A fancy pen set for Mr. Butler, and the other, well, the other one is for Billy Hargrove. 
Billy Hargrove who, only about a month ago, had beat his stupid face in and gave him a concussion he still wasn’t quite over, and who definitely wasn’t going to give him that giddy joy he usually got from giving gifts, but he still felt like he needed to extend a holly branch. 
Because the way he saw it, Billy couldn’t take all the blame for what went down, so why shouldn’t he be the one to try to apologize, be the bigger person and earn Billy’s respect through his shopping abilities like he did with everyone else. 
He knows it’s kind of poorly thought out, maybe even completely crazy to try to make a peace offering to a boy who could practically be called his bully, but he’s still not anticipating the fact that, when he walks down the third row of desks and holds out the little box wrapped in red paper for the other boy to take, Billy just sort of stares at him. 
Shaking it a little, like he’s trying to get the attention of a cat with a bag of treats, Steve sets the box down on Billy’s desk and retreats to his own seat a few aisles over. 
That’s where it stays until about halfway through the period, which is just a free day anyways, no 75 year old man in his right mind would make a room full of teenagers do algebra on the last day before Christmas break, when Billy finally leans forward and snatches the gift box off the polished surface.
Steve could try to pretend he’s not staring, vibrating in anticipation of Billy’s reaction to the gift, a silver zippo with Venetian engraving, but he’s caught when Billy, having dumped the lighter out of the box and into his hand, turning it over a few times, turns to look at him. 
There’s a look on his face that’s a cross between confusion and surprise and something unreadable, like maybe he’s trying to tell Steve with just a look that this was a mistake, and he’s going to kick his ass again as soon as the bell rings, but in a way he still thinks it’s worth it. 
Because Steve Harrington does not have enemies, no matter how many toes he steps on and things he does wrong, and maybe Billy won’t accept a fancy lighter as an apology, but at least he’ll know that he tried to make peace. 
Even after he turns his attention to the gossip circle running in front of him, Steve can feel Billy’s eyes on him. It’s borderline creepy, in Steve’s own opinion, but he supposes he can understand it. 
He might have been a little more grateful and not so stalkerish were he in the same situation, but, potato potahto. 
As soon as the bell rings Billy’s out of there like a bat out of hell. He’s up out of his seat before anyone else, halfway out the door and tossing a crumpled ball of red paper in the trash before the rest of the class could even blink. 
At first, Steve isn’t even sure that Billy didn’t throw the whole zippo away, but he sees it catch the light from where it’s held tight in Billy’s fist just before he disappears through the doorway completely. 
The fact that the lighter wasn’t in the bottom of the trash can was a good sign, but, this still didn’t bode all that well for a Christmas truce.
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akitokihojo · 4 years
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Delicate - Chapter 7
Inuyasha sighed out, a barely-visible puff of air appearing before his face as he walked along the length of the gate outside of the schoolyard. He felt abnormally exhausted this morning, and like anyone, he blamed it on the fact that it was Monday, the clouds were dreary, and he may have been up late playing video games. He had a chemistry test this afternoon, and he could only hope to wake up a little more by then to properly focus.
He’d caught her scent just before entering the building, his attention blindly following his nose as his eyes scoured the grounds for her. She wasn’t that far off, standing in a misshapen circle with Sango and three other girls, one of them enthusiastically telling a story that had the lot of them giggling. That smile, the rosy color of her cheeks, the way the tip of her nose was a light shade of pink from the chill of their morning, it was all like a buzz of caffeine for him. The more he watched, the more he listened to the melody of her laugh, the lighter he began to gradually feel.
Kagome was wearing black tights beneath her charcoal uniform skirt this morning as opposed to the knee-high socks she usually opted for, sparing her legs from the small nip in the air. Over her white button up, she donned a dark, knitted sweater, the baggy sleeves shielding her fingers. But, her neck wasn’t covered. Sure, her hair was worn down, waving over her shoulders in their natural order, but what good was that compared to something literally manufactured to keep heat in? The dummy was just asking for a cold. Whatever combatant thought that formulated in his head deliberately went ignored as he turned away from the building to walk toward her, a horrible fluttering expanding throughout his abdomen. Sango’s gaze met him first as he approached, then Kagome’s as the group of girls’ chatter died off into a curious and muddled silence. God, he didn’t think there was anything capable of rivaling the annoying sensation in his stomach at the moment, but when she smiled wider at him as he stopped just a foot or two before her, his heart gave a thunderous pound that he worried would wound his ribcage. His cheeks went hot, then his nose, then the remainder of his face, and the thought of his evident blush only made him heat up furthermore. Her greeting was soft and happy, bringing him to huff out, his jaw clenching, and his amber eyes drifting off to the side. As planned, Inuyasha removed the muffler from his neck, untwisting it so he could hand it over. From his peripherals, he gathered that she was confused, not immediately taking it from him, so he decidedly did the damn job himself before he ended up spontaneously combusting from flames of embarrassment. Carefully, the hanyou looped it behind her neck, twisted, then looped it again so it bunched properly to keep her warm, her raven hair billowed beneath. 
She was staring up at him with large eyes, her pink lips pinching together then growing into a shy and appreciative smile. Son of a bitch, she was fucking cute.
He walked away, heading toward the entrance of the building without a single word, and Kagome’s blush maddened as her friends made hushed and cheery noises at what had just happened.
“So, what? Are you guys together now?”
“When did you two even become a thing?”
“Wasn’t that Inuyasha? I’ve never seen him not mad.”
“Nah, he still looked mad. Just a flustered sort of mad.”
“And to think just a couple days ago you were worried.” Sango teased.
“Yeah, but y-you know happened.” Kagome said, feeling like she was standing under an intense spotlight.
“Uh, we don’t!” Eri stated, bringing the attention back to them. “Hello, hi. Details, please.”
“Oh, look at the time.” Kagome pulled back the sleeve of her left hand to look at the invisible watch along her wrist, beginning to walk backward toward their school building. “I need to - I’ve gotta - I mean, class is starting soon, so yeah. Bye.”
Sango laughed, waving and knowing full and well that her friend was heading to catch up with her favored half demon. 
“I don’t suppose you’ll tell us?”
“Sorry, guys.” She shrugged, smiling. “The best friend privilege is knowing, and the code is not spilling business that isn’t mine to spill.”
Kagome wandered over to his locker in the third row, spotting him just as he closed the small, metal door. He glanced over, his eyes never leaving her as she sauntered his way, and though his cheeks continued to reveal some of his timidness, a soft smile on his lips further ignited the spark between them.
“I don’t need it back if that’s what you’re about to ask.”
“Not yet, anyway.”
“After school. Keep it until then.”
“I actually came to walk with you. If that’s okay?”
“You don’t need to ask, dummy.” Inuyasha replied, though there was the hint of tension in his tone. He gave a notch of his head to lead the way, shoving his hands into his pant pockets to appear as casual as possible. She walked at his side, just as close as they’d walked on Saturday night, and he found it to be a source of comfort. Progressively, his preservation melted away with her warmth, wanting less to hide his affection behind a barricade and wanting more to give it to her so she’d always smile like she had before. 
“So, uh, how’d you do on your last math test?” He asked as they began their ascent up the stairs and to the second floor where their classes were.
“Oh, I totally forgot! I meant to show you!” Kagome opened her book bag at her side, pulling out the quiz after wiggling it free from between two notebooks. She held it out, positively beaming and excited for him to see her accomplishment.
Inuyasha took in the “B” next to her name before taking the paper into his grip, a smile of his own forming as his pride for her swelled. “This is the best one yet! Soon you’re not even gonna need my help.”
“I don’t know about that.” She quickly countered, a little nervous at the sound of losing any easy opportunity to see him outside of school. “I still struggle a bit. And, I mean, you do call me a dummy.”
“Not as an insult.” He chuckled, handing the test back to her so she could shove it back into her bag.
“It originated for a reason, and then just became an endearment of sorts.”
“I don’t think you’re dumb.” Inuyasha said, still smiling. He glanced at her, noticing the uncertainty in her eyes, shielded behind a small grin. Was she looking for validation? He felt something click in him, like he didn’t actually need to question what she wanted. The quick rebut she’d served just a moment ago to his comment, the look she was giving, the warm sensation building in his chest - it made it easy not to second guess his intuition. This was an understanding he’d been privileged to receive from being with her so often, from falling in love. Not a part of him desired to resist what surprisingly and so simply came to him right now, the back of his hand grazing her knuckles until he hooked one of her fingers with his own. They both stopped walking, and he pulled her closer by another inch. “Relax. I’m not going anywhere; we’ll still study together. Maybe you’ll even end up tutoring me.”
“Doubtful.” Kagome muttered with a shy smile, her finger gently clutching his in return.
“Which part?”
“Me tutoring you.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” He chuckled, her responding giggle like a gift. The bell rang and he knew the halls were about to get busy as everyone filtered through to class. He took the opportunity he had, never letting go of her finger. “Tomorrow? I’ll walk you home and we can study.”
“Okay.” She nodded, smiling.
Using his free hand, Inuyasha twirled some strands of her hair around his finger, ones that were short, and framed her jaw, and weren’t held captive by the muffler like the rest of it all still was. “Come on, dummy.” He grinned, leading her to her class with a yank on her finger.
Sango puffed out her cheeks in a mock pout, standing by a tree with her arms crossed over her chest after school. “Call me repetitive, but I still cannot believe you’re ditching me for a boy today.”
“You’re repetitive.”
“Thank you.”
“I’m not even ditching you,” Kagome laughed. “I said he’d be walking with us. You’re the one who chose to walk home alone.”
“Excuse me, look me in the eyes and tell me I’m third wheel material. I dare you.”
She laughed a little harder from her best friend’s dramatic exasperation. “He’s walked with us before, Sango! It’s just like every other time.”
“Bull and baloney! The last time he walked with us was before you guys got over the majority of your romantic constipation.” Sango ignored the weird look that took over Kagome’s expression, proceeding on with her argument without hesitance. “Things are better now, you’ve both gotten a clue - thank god - and moves are being made. When he said he wanted to walk you home, he meant he wanted to walk you home. Therefore, if I tag along until we hit my route, he’s gonna be uncomfortable up until then and I’m gonna be the cockblock.”
“What? Not even!”
“Oh, yeah.”
“So, you’re just gonna avoid us forever now? This is it? Whenever Inuyasha wants to come with, you’re out?” Kagome grinned, leaning her head to the side in a playful challenge.
“No, of course not. Not forever. When you guys are in an established relationship - and by established, I mean passed the mushy crap - then I’ll make my return. Maybe even sooner if I land myself a stud, because then I wouldn’t be a third wheel.” Sango shrugged.
“You’ve got one guy in mind that can’t even talk to you passed ‘hello,’ so that could take a while.”
“See you on the flip side, my main gal.”
“You realize then that this isn’t me choosing a guy over you, but you choosing your pride over everything?”
“You bet, but I’m still blaming you.”
“You know what? I’m gonna do you a favor.” Kagome cocked a brow, her smile shifting into one of deviousness.
“What? No, wait. No. I know that look, and I hate it. What are you gonna do?” Sango’s face twisted in suspicion, her brows furrowing deeply as Kagome turned about, seemingly searching the school grounds. She had a sinking feeling in her chest as a scheme had obviously just popped into Kagome’s head, and who had she just mentioned? Bad, not good, very bad. “Kay, I swear to Zeus if you -“
“Oh, there they are!” Kagome beamed, practically skipping her way over to the pair of far-off boys.
“I have no best friend!” Sango hissed, quickly ducking herself to hide behind the tree.
Inuyasha’s golden stare transferred from his friend to her as she approached, the plain expression he held while Miroku talked changing to a gentle grin. He notched his head in a silent greeting while his friend finished his sentence.
“Hi. Sorry, I didn’t mean to interrupt.” She apologized, stopping before them, a little closer to Inuyasha than in the center.
“Nothing to worry about.” Miroku kindly dismissed. “Since you’re here, let me ask you something: Do you prefer me with or without the rattail? I need a lady’s perspective.”
“Oh, god no, definitely without.” Kagome answered a little too quickly, giving a small grimace when she realize how rude it could have come off, especially as Inuyasha stifled his snorted laugh. “I mean, it’s your choice, of course! I just think the style is a bit outdated. And, this shorter cut suits you much better. Were you thinking of growing it back?”
“Wow. Not anymore.” Miroku blinked, pinching his lips into a tight line.
“Thank you.” Inuyasha boasted, like he’d finally gotten his way. He gave another small nod to Kagome, gesturing in the direction of the gate. “Come on, let’s go.”
“Hang on, I have a question.” She said, stopping Inuyasha before he could lead her off. She looked over at his friend, watching him go from feigned defeat to slightly curious when he realized it was for him. “I’m sorry if this is none of my business, but do you mind if I be a little upfront for a moment and ask how you feel about Sango?”
“Oh god, you’re gonna break him.” Inuyasha murmured beside her.
“No, I promise I won’t tell her anything. I’m just wondering.” Kagome assured.
“You mean, I haven’t made it painstakingly obvious?” Miroku asked monotonously, his grin devoid of any real emotion.
“So, you like her?”
“Something like that.”
“Why haven’t you asked her out?”
“Remember that time, a few months ago, when I stopped you guys on your way home from school?”
“Yeah.”
“I was going to try and get her number then. I had a classic pickup line planned and everything, and yet the only thing that came out of my mouth was her name. I can’t function around her. I panic around her. I freeze, I sputter, and I shave a few years off my life every time I’m around her. You see my problem?”
“Okay, you’re not good with girls. It’s fine, you’ve gotta start some-“
“I’m fantastic with girls, you take that back!” Miroku retorted defensively.
“Really? You can actually claim that right now?” Kagome earnestly asked.
“You really think you have the room to talk when you two still aren’t even dating?” Miroku chided, pointing to both Inuyasha and Kagome. He didn’t even have time to flinch before Inuyasha slugged him in the arm, his pained groan gurgled and deep. “Okay, withdrawn!” He clutched the offended spot, respectfully ignoring Kagome’s embarrassment as he continued speaking to buffer the awkwardness. “Look, there’s just something about her that fucks me up. Little-by-little, I’m talking! I’m getting better! I’m growing! I’m not always melting down like I used to! I’ll get there eventually!”
“What if I make it a little easier on you?” She offered with a simple shrug.
“How?”
“Give me your number and I’ll give it to her. That way, you don’t have to stress yourself out by asking for hers, and that’s one objective down.”
“Wait,” Miroku tilted his head skeptically. “Are you - are you saying she’s interested?”
Kagome feigned a believable frown. “Actually, I don’t know.” She lied. “Sango’s a pretty private person. She doesn’t often talk about her feelings, even to me. I’m just doing this to help you out. You’re a nice guy, and I’m her best friend. Easy in-between.”
“What’s the catch?”
“No catch.”
“No catch?”
“She said no catch. Just do it.” Inuyasha griped. “You’ve been going on and on about this since last year, and now you’re gonna question the opportunity?”
“Because, there’s gotta be a catch! She owes me nothing - you owe me nothing. So, why do me a favor?”
“No catch.” Kagome repeated, shaking her head. “Honestly, I’m just a nice person. If you want to do it yourself, by all means. I’m not trying to make you uncomfortable or push you to do something you don’t want to do. But, if I do it, we eliminate the potential to wreck yourself even more in front of her, and then the ball’s in her court. If she’s interested, she’ll text or call, if not, then nothing happens and you have your answer. Besides, I think she’s already headed home, so I can talk you up a little and say you wanted to give it to her today but she’d already left so you gave it to me to pass on.”
“No catch?”
“No catch.”
“No one’s that nice.”
“I am. Oh, and just think. It’s always easier to talk through text because you have time to think through what you want to say before you say it.”
“He’ll still mess it up.” Inuyasha quietly mentioned.
“Nah, I don’t think he will.” She said, smiling, redirecting the conversation back to Miroku. “Then, you’ll adjust, realize Sango’s super easy to talk to and there’s nothing to be nervous about, and talking to her in person will be as normal as talking to anyone else.”
“Oh, fuck, yeah okay. You drive a hard bargain, Higurashi.” Miroku eagerly opened his bag, bringing out his notebook and opening it to the first empty page. “Inuyasha, your pen.” He requested, holding his hand out as the half demon pulled his pen from his front, pant pocket. Taking the writing utensil and clicking the ballpoint end out, he began scribbling along the upper-right corner.
Kagome could tell it wasn’t just his number he was jotting down, but she didn’t try to peek, instead giving a quick side-glance to Inuyasha and winking so he knew she had this planned. Miroku tore the edge of the paper, folding up his little note and handing it over to Kagome which she happily took and slipped into the small pocket at the front of her book bag.
“Say something nice about me when you see her.”
“Don’t worry.”
“Now, can we go?” Inuyasha spoke, taking back his pen and sliding it into his front pocket once more. Kagome smiled, giving a nod and waving goodbye to his best friend before walking off with him toward the exit. As soon as they were out of the gate, and effectively out of earshot of Miroku - who had to stay behind for his stupid student council committee - he shot her a sly look. “What was that all about?”
“Just helping things along.” She replied, giving a measly shrug.
“Ka-go-me!” The shout was menacing and chilling, over-enunciated for full, grounding effect, and bringing Kagome to look wearily toward a fuming Sango who was running right toward her. Hastily, she dodged around the half demon, using him as a shield to protect herself from the temperament of her best friend.
Inuyasha stood stiffly between the two, thoroughly confused and unsure whether this was actually something he should literally be in the middle of.
“No! Wait! Don’t be mad, I didn’t do anything wrong!” Kagome proclaimed.
“What did you say!?” Sango asked, brows pinching together but no real malice to her tone. She was frantic for an answer, and naturally defensive, but Kagome should have known better than to pull one of Sango’s own stunts on her.
“Nothing about you!”
“Freaking liar!”
“No, I swear! I didn’t! In fact, the one question he asked about you, I lied about and turned the subject back on him!”
“And, what was the subject, Kagome!?”
“About whether he liked you or not!”
“Oh my god! You can’t just ask someone that!” Sango cried, shoving her face into her palms.
“What!? On Saturday, you said -“
Sango shushed her, the noise high pitched and tense. “I know what I said, but that advice wasn’t for me!”
“If it’s any consolation, he said yes!”
“He did!?”
“You said you wouldn’t tell her.” Inuyasha mentioned, turning his head to peculiarly glance at her from the side.
“Oh, because it wouldn’t be obvious when I gave her his number?” Kagome retorted, not yet coming out from the shelter his body provided.
“What?” Sango asked, slightly shocked.
“Yeah, see,” Kagome fished the folded up paper out of the pocket of her bag, sliding her arm around Inuyasha’s waist to hand it over. Her friend snatched the note like a monkey snagging a banana from its handler, unfolding it to read its contents. “I didn’t read it, I promise. He really wanted me to give that to you.”
Sango studied what was written, her cheeks becoming a bright shade of pink before lowering the small shred of paper to peer at Kagome, her eyes large and pleading. “Did you seriously ask him for his number for me? He’s gonna think I’m desperate!”
“No! I offered to give you his number for him! I told him I didn’t know if you liked him, but I just wanted to do him a favor.”
“And, he fell for that?”
“Yup. Whatever else that says is all him. I didn’t suggest a note, just the number.”
Sango quickly handed the note to Kagome, making sure Inuyasha didn’t glance to read it, her hand held open for Kagome to return it when she was done. 
I’m sorry I’m weird around you. I literally get dumbstruck by your beauty. I don’t want to mess up anymore, so here’s my number. Give me a chance. - Miroku.
Kagome beamed, slipping the small piece of paper back into Sango’s palm. “So, what do you think?”
“I don’t know. He really has no idea how I feel?”
“Look, I can honestly tell you he didn’t suspect a thing. You can go into this whatever way you want, and the guy wouldn’t know the difference.” Inuyasha testified, leaning his head to the side in a careless manner.
“You,” Sango pointed up at the hanyou’s face, a scowl forming on her own, successfully intimidating him as he flinched back an inch. “Will keep this conversation to yourself, got it? I mean it. Don’t tell him anything that happened here.”
“How are you so scary for a small chick?” He held his hands out defensively in front of him.
“My dad’s a cop.”
“Ah.”
“Believe me, he won’t say anything.” Kagome assured, finally coming out of hiding. “So, are you gonna text him?”
“You’ll find out when your friendship timeout is up.” Sango sneered, pursing her lips and crossing her arms.
“How long!?” Kagome pouted.
“To be determined.” She shrugged, walking off to take a different route home.
“Determine!”
“Two hours.”
“Hours?”
“You’ll be busy anyway, so you won’t even notice.”
“Sango!”
“Bye!” She waved from behind, crossing the street.
“You guys are weird.” Inuyasha remarked, walking on ahead.
“You really won’t tell, right?” Kagome asked, upping her speed to reach his side again.
“What? That Sango likes Miroku? Nah.” He confirmed, his tone level as he gave a small shake of his head. “I kind of figured you wouldn’t just do Miroku a favor out of the blue like that. Even before you winked.”
“So, you blindly backed me up?”
“Yup. Stupid, huh?”
She smiled, turning her head so he wouldn’t see how happy it had made her. The muffled chime of Inuyasha’s phone went off in his pocket, bringing her attention back his way as he pulled it out, his brows giving a small twitch together as he whispered an apology to her and answered.
“What’s up?” She couldn’t hear who was talking on the other end, but she continued walking at his side, minding her business to the best of her abilities, even when Inuyasha grumbled. He stopped walking, pinching the back of her sweater with his free hand to make her stay with him, his head lolling back in exasperation. “Yeah, fine, I’ll go check. I swear, you’re getting too old to leave the house.”
He hung up, grimacing deeply. “My uncle thinks he left the stove on and he won’t be back until late. I can run home real quick and I’ll meet you at your place. That okay?”
“Oh, yeah.” Kagome nodded understandingly. He flashed a small grin, his pace hastening slightly as he walked ahead to the corner, about to cross to the right where she’d just go straight. She watched him stop even though it was perfectly safe for him to go, an unsure expression on his lips as he pressed them together, eventually turning back to her as she finally reached the corner, herself.
“Unless, um, unless you just want to come with me? It’ll be a quick stop.”
Her smile grew brightly, her nod coming before her brain could actually initiate the response. When he smiled back and notched his head for her to follow, she couldn’t help the wild flutter that made home in her belly. She’d never been to his place before. She was excited. 
As if things couldn’t get any better, he’d grabbed her sleeve, pulling her closer to walk at his side again. In all honesty, she’d expected him to let go once he’d gotten his way, but he didn’t. He held onto her sleeve, keeping her with him as they walked, the silence undeniably comfortable. Kagome wondered if it would be okay to actually hold his hand. Would it make him shy away? They practically held hands yesterday, so they may as well, right? Was this the way he preferred it, or should she make the move? Maybe she’d try it slowly to properly read the situation. Because, she really, really, wanted to hold his hand.
Carefully, she angled her hand upward, her forearm following through as necessary, so she could brush the side of his fingers with her own. He didn’t look at her, nor did she look up at him, their eyes straight ahead or on their surroundings. His hand didn’t inch away, and his grip on her knitted sweater slackened, even more so as she brushed his fingers again. That second time, though, she slipped one of her fingers in the curve of his hand, then another when he welcomed her in, helping to build her courage. Inuyasha dropped his hold on her sleeve entirely, taking her hand in his, accepting the way she entwined their fingers and steadily following suit with his own grip. 
Maybe it was due to her infatuation with the boy, but she sincerely felt safe with her hand in his; protected from everything uninviting the world may put before her. After a moment, her embarrassment even faded away, far quicker than she’d ever expected it to. His hand was large and hot, engulfing and wonderfully gentle, his nails never a threat to her, but his unexpected tenderness was, his thumb smoothly rubbing back and forth over the back of her palm, threatening to provoke an eruption of butterflies in her abdomen.
“It’s this one.” Inuyasha said, guiding her through the small, front gate and pulling his small set of keys out of the pocket of his bag. Begrudgingly, he pulled his hand free from hers to open the door, letting her walk through first before following in and shutting it behind him. “Come on.” He walked up the hall a bit, her small, padded footsteps close behind him as he took a left into the kitchen, seeing the stove was off all along. 
“False alarm?” Kagome giggled.
“Better safe than sorry with that guy.” He groaned.
“Your home is nice.” She smiled, turning about to look at the small amount of decoration in the kitchen. It was a man’s home, that was for sure; it didn’t have a typical woman’s touch to it. Nonetheless, it was comfortable, kempt, and rustic.
“Well, it’s his. Totosai’s.” Inuyasha corrected with a dismissive shrug, sauntering back into the hall and toward the living room, making sure she followed.
“You live here, don’t you? And, he adopted you, so I’m sure you’re more than welcome to call this place yours.”
“I don’t know, sometimes I feel out of place.”
“You’ll only make yourself feel more out of place the more you say things like that.”
The half demon turned to her, brows furrowing speculatively. There was no animosity behind it; in fact, his smirk prodded her to elaborate.
“Like, okay say I’m feeling insecure about my looks. I don’t feel very pretty or attractive, and it’s weighing on me. I look at myself in the mirror and then I tell myself I’m ugly. Not just once, but I end up telling myself that on a regular basis. The insecurity will definitely sink through a lot faster than it would if I maybe told myself the opposite. I’d believe it wholeheartedly then. And after that, I’d never feel comfortable in my skin, or my dresses, or skirts, or jeans, or maybe even my frumpy clothes. No amount of makeup would do the trick, either, because what I did was empower my self-consciousness. I didn’t do myself any favors by allowing myself to think my negative thoughts were true. I, instead, made my own situation worse. Why do that? Insecurities, on any level, are natural, and sometimes it’s hard to convince yourself of the opposite, but it’s so much more worth it to try. And, you’d be happier when you come out.” She took a step closer to him, smiling. Inuyasha merely gazed down at her, no air of discomfort about; he simply listened. “Your situation - it’s understandable. I’d even be so bold to say it’s natural to feel out of sorts sometimes. This wasn’t the home you pictured living in as a child, and those feelings don’t need to go neglected. But, this is a home you’ve been welcomed into. Your uncle signed the papers and brought you here. I’m gonna assume you have your own bedroom, and furniture, and your clothes fit you properly so he’s definitely providing for you. You’ve got a key, and look -“ Her grin grew larger, her enthusiasm a little too pronounced as she turned to the mantle and spotted a candid picture of Inuyasha as a pre-teen, sitting on a park bench with much shorter hair. “He’s even proud to have photos of you on display. This is definitely your home.”
Quickly, flustered Inuyasha walked the few paces over to the picture and slammed it down. “Alright, alright. You made your point.” He drawled, looking back at her. “You’ve got a motivational speech for everything, don’t you?”
“Pretty much.” She giggled.
“Mind if I go change out of my uniform real quick?”
“Go for it.”
Inuyasha walked out to the hall, leaving Kagome in the living room, his stomach feeling heavy while his chest fluttered with something uncertain. He’d stopped at the frame of the entry, his hand braced on the polished wood as he looked back at her over his shoulder, watching how she didn’t even seem to notice he was still there. She was carefully resetting the picture of him that he’d planted facedown, the pads of her fingers smoothing over the edge of the cheap frame. 
“Is that what you were feeling?” The half demon asked, his tone husky. Kagome turned to him, slightly surprised, but the notch her head gave told him she didn’t immediately grasp what he was referring to. “Saturday. When you were sad. You mentioned insecurity. Was it because you didn’t feel beautiful?”
Kagome’s nerves flared dully, a small lump beginning to form in her throat. His amber eyes appeared gentle, and she couldn’t help but wonder how many times he’d thought of that night since. The shake of her head came slow at first, hardly there, but then grew into something more steady and honest.
“Will you tell me?”
She swallowed, her lips parting slightly. She still wasn’t fully comfortable talking about it, the humiliation remaining fresh, but he wanted to know and her reservation was superficial. He’d been opening up to her, trusting her, and she should do the same. He’d dropped whatever he was doing and ran to her that night. Literally ran. He calmed her down, he walked her home, he held her. Just him asking, revisiting the topic, had her feeling warmly invited to rely on him with her emotions, despite the minor apprehension holding her tongue. And, if the logic of the situation wasn’t enough, the patience he was exuding as he stood in place and waited for her to speak was. There was no caution in his expression, because there was no caution necessary between the two of them at the moment. The feeling she was receiving from him was almost the same as what she’d tried to procure during her little speech just moments ago. Safety and comfort. And, though Kagome wasn’t suddenly confident in spilling her vulnerability - as anyone would naturally feel - it wasn’t hard to let him in.
“I -“ The hesitance wasn’t planned, but she breathed to push passed it, her eyes inadvertently shying to the ground. “I wasn’t quite sure how you felt about me. I was constantly going back and forth with myself. After a while, it became too much and, um, yeah. That’s what Saturday was all about.”
Inuyasha tensed slightly, entirely unsuspecting of what she’d just stated. He’d racked his brain numerous times since Saturday night, since seeing her cry and feeling the way she clutched onto him for support, pretending he knew the deep ins and outs of Kagome’s mind so he could try and figure out what, exactly, she’d been feeling so he was better prepared to help her out of it should the situation occur again. The typical scenario that pops into a person’s head when told another is feeling insecure is looks, and he felt rotten just thinking a girl as gorgeous as she didn’t feel comfortable in her own body. He’d almost taken it as absolute confirmation when she’d brought up the hypothetical scenario just now. Another idea was her grades, or her future - because she’s in her final year of high school, and what senior isn’t panicking about their future at the moment - or maybe even something pertaining to her family. More specifically, playing backup guardian to her younger brother to help her hardworking mother out. That could easily weigh on a person, and he wouldn’t blame her for crumbling out of sight from the pressure. Inuyasha was almost prepared to make a list of the many positive attributes this one girl holds so he could help her see what he sees; so he could hopefully prevent another breakdown in the future. For some reason, he never thought it was about him. Not with how she was the first to walk into his arms, or with how she called him when she was fighting off tears. After that night, she must have understood how he felt about her, but that’s only three days of security. It made sense now that he thought about it; the half demon wasn’t known for his open displays of affection. There had never necessarily been a person he wanted to be openly affectionate with until now. As he had been coming to terms with his own emotions, gradually forcing himself out of his damaging and abrasive habits, somewhere along the lines he’d just assumed she knew. And, only ended up confusing her. That’s a good chunk of time that they weren’t on the same page, and he had no fucking idea. If she needed more obvious gestures, he could provide that. It was nerve-racking, but he would do it for her.
“Well, I hope you feel better now, because that’s a stupid thing to get upset about.” He watched as she seemingly took in his response, a small smile curving her lips, comprehending his language. “Wait for me, I’ll be right back.”
He came down the stairs, adjusting his hoodie as he went, spotting Kagome at a bookshelf at the far end of the living room as he came back through. Her brown eyes were glued on a photograph, never peering away to look at him as he approached.
“My dad.” He spoke, stopping just inches behind her.
“You look so much like him.” Kagome seemed almost astonished by the resemblance.
“Just the hair. I think I look more like my mom.”
“And the jawline.”
“And the jawline.” Inuyasha chuckled, nodding as he agreed.
“Is that your uncle with him?”
“Yeah, that’s the geezer. Come on, let’s go.”
She smiled up at him happily, following him out the door, waiting for him on the sidewalk outside the gate while he locked up. As he strode back over to her, he gave the shoulder of her sweater a small yank to lead her down the path he took to her place, his fingers casually sliding down the front of her arm until he reached her hand, tangling their fingers as they’d been before.
Their notes and homework assignments were sprawled on the floor of her bedroom between them, mostly used for reference when necessary as he quizzed her with random questions, a movie playing on the tv for soft background noise and their backs resting against the side of her bed.
“Wait, you already asked me that one!” Kagome complained, scrounging through the papers before her for the answer.
“Yeah, you got it wrong the first time, and you still can’t remember the answer I gave you.” He responded, his tone brassy but amused, breathily chuckling as he watched her go from one sheet of scribbled notes to another.
“It’s here somewhere.”
“You never wrote it down.”
“Dang it, Inuyasha!”
“Not my problem!”
“You probably distracted me.”
“It isn’t hard to do.”
Quickly, he protected his face with his hands, laughing as Kagome chucked a small, decorative pillow at him.
“So funny.” She mocked, reaching over and grabbing his notes from beside his knee. “Oh.”
“Hm?” His ear closest to her flicked, waiting expectantly for her to give him the answer.
“Oda Nobunaga.”
“So much for being a history buff, huh?” He remarked.
“You’re so sassy tonight.” Kagome laughed, putting his notes back where they once were.
“Okay, chemistry question: What’s the formula for hydrochloric acid?”
“Do you even know that off the top of your head?” She countered, grimacing.
“Wouldn’t ask if I didn’t.”
“What a nerd.” Kagome murmured, once more shifting through her study material. She sighed out slowly as she searched, her face scrunching like usual, and bringing the paper closer to her face, neglecting the glasses on her nightstand. “H-C-I.”
“Good. Since you’re looking at it, phosphoric acid?”
“H-3-P-O-4.”
“Mhm. Now put the notes down. The next question I ask, you should know by now.”
“Oh no.” She grumbled, complying.
“It’s easy. Say you borrow ten-thousand dollars from the bank. By the time you pay it off, you’ve paid a total amount of ten-thousand, four-hundred. What’s the additional four-hundred represent?”
“Oh, interest!”
“Good. See?” He smiled. “One last question and then I’ve gotta go. You ready?”
She hummed an affirmation, nodding as she turned to fully face him.
“It’s gonna be the toughest one. You get it right and I’ll take you out for ice cream.”
Kagome smiled eagerly, whispering an okay as she waited.
“Alright, you sure?”
“Come on.” She half-whined, the anticipation spiking. She wondered just how hard the question was going to be considering he used a reward as incentive.
“Okay, what’s sixteen divided by two?”
“What? It’s eight.” Kagome laughed lightly, brows furrowing in query.
“Yup.” He feigned a defeated sigh, shrugging and gathering his notes together. “Fair is fair. You busy Saturday?”
“No, I’m free.” She smiled, thrown off since she was sincerely expecting a tricky question.
“Great, I’ll take you out on our date then.”
She perked, her expression faltering minutely out of surprise but then growing into one of subtle elation. “Date?”
Inuyasha picked himself up off the floor, bringing the strap of his bag to rest over his shoulder. He glanced down at her as she followed suit and stood, shrugging his brows and smiling slightly in a meager response to her question. “See you tomorrow.”
“Wait, I’ll walk you out.”
“Nah, don’t worry about it.” He said, opening the door to her bedroom and giving her head a gentle shove backward. “I’ll text you when I get home.
He crossed the street, seeing the designated meet-up spot in the short distance, the sun still barely keeping the sky illuminated. Hues of fading orange and pink danced on patches of clouds overhead, a deep indigo overriding the majority of the sky. He didn’t see her at the statue, and he was glad he’d beat her; he didn’t like the idea of her sitting alone waiting for him. As he approached, he pulled his phone out of the front pocket of his black jeans, making sure she hadn’t texted.
His stomach was in absolute shambles, his nerves riddled and wired. Their first date. It was about time, yeah, but that didn’t make the ordeal any less unsettling. He’d never technically done this before, so his worst fear was fucking it up. He tried pretending it was just another ordinary hang out so he’d calm down a bit, but he knew that wasn’t true. This was a date. He was finally taking Kagome out on a date. He figured when they got the ball rolling, it would be a lot smoother since being around each other was easier than he’d ever imagined it would be, but up until then he felt just about ready to puke.
To busy himself as he waited, Inuyasha adjusted his grey t-shirt beneath his jacket, making sure it didn’t look too wrinkled or disheveled. He knew people were technically supposed to dress up for occasions such as these, but outside of his school uniform, he refused to wear another button up unless absolutely necessary. It wasn’t his style. He still looked appropriate, and he vaguely remembered the way her eyes lingered on him the last time he wore this shirt around her.
“Well, well, well.” Inuyasha’s gaze, heating instantly, shot to the side, landing on the tall, slender delinquent that ambled over. He’d been so distracted waiting for Kagome that he hadn’t even fucking noticed the scent of the motherfucker. “Look who it is.”
“Fuck.” Inuyasha breathed, the word dragging out hoarsely. “I’ll give you twenty bucks to leave me alone tonight.”
“Who do I look like, Jakotsu? Gonna take a lot more than that to buy me off.”
“Not tonight.” Inuyasha’s tone was clenched and assertive, staring straight into the dark eyes of the man that continued to approach.
“Why? What’s on the agenda?” He asked, carelessly. An arrogant smile expanded on his face.
“I’m serious, Ren.”
“Yeah, see, the last time we saw each other, you shoved my face into a brick wall. I’m not feeling very understanding at the moment.” He sneered.
“You came at me first.” 
“And, it wouldn’t keep happening if you’d just fix the mistake you made.”
“It’s on my to-do list. Right there next to making you kiss my ass.”
“You son of a bitch.” He swung his fist, but Inuyasha dodged in time, swerving around to the backside of his opponent and giving the quickest look around the surrounding area to make sure Kagome wasn’t in the vicinity. Multiple times he’d gotten out of these fights unscathed, and he hoped, fucking hoped, he could do the same right now.
“I gotta say, not a really good way to convince me to leave you alone.”
“Figured you wouldn’t, anyway.” Inuyasha’s shrug was barely visible, waiting for Renkotsu’s next move. He wasn’t the strongest fighter, but he was a tactical one. He liked to bait Inuyasha along, or whomever he was up against really, getting their tempers to flare so their fighting strategy was sloppy. In addition, he was, unfortunately, fast and nimble on his feet, and even though Inuyasha was good at swooping himself out of the way, Renkotsu was better at getting back in his. 
The hanyou was pushed back, but the stumble was short-lived as he grasped his bearings and threw his fist into the punk’s face, feeling the sting of his knuckle colliding with Renkotsu’s tooth. His lip must have pinched between, because blood was quick to trickle free, painting his mouth crimson as he smiled and laughed.
“You’ve gotten soft, dog boy.” He remarked, his hand hovering beneath his chin but not really even trying to stop the bleeding.
“Shut up.”
“Since when do you hold back?”
Since he was steadfast determined not to come out of this with a single indicator that would tip Kagome off or ruin her night.
“Come on, what’s changed? You been whipped or something?” He lunged, faking right but snagging Inuyasha on the left, clutching the front of his jacket and tossing him headfirst into the statue. 
The pain just above his temple was sharp, instantaneously growing unbearably hot as he picked himself up to a proper standing and felt the light leakage of liquid sliding down the side of his face, the sensation dulling and becoming hardly noticeable over the headache pressing him. There was a physical spike to his temper, his blood beginning to boil as a growl bubbled in his abdomen. Of all the members of that dumb squad, Renkotsu was the most annoying.
Something in Kagome snapped, having watched the guy attack Inuyasha. She knew this sort of stuff was happening, but it was indescribably different when she witnessed it first hand. Shock transitioned to anger. Anger transitioned to infuriation. Infuriation transitioned to irrefutable outrage, and that was that. Her next move wasn’t subconscious; she knew exactly what she was doing. Kagome ran at them, speeding up, sprinting as quickly as her legs would go and shoved the bastard as hard as she possibly could. He was sturdier than his lanky body suggested, only stumbling back several feet before his glare met her challenging scowl. Arms braced around her waist before she could lunge again, a husky voice she knew was Inuyasha’s telling her to “fucking stop,” as he pivoted on his heel and tucked her behind him. That didn’t halt her, though. Demands for him to move were grunted from her mouth as she pushed his arms away, trying to climb her way around his protective stature.
“What the fuck is that, your pet pomeranian!?” Renkotsu jibed, finally taking a moment to wipe the mixture of saliva and blood that dribbled down his chin, and spitting off to the side.
“Funny coming from a guy with premature balding!” Kagome barked, finally getting Inuyasha to let her go. He stood close, though, and she knew he was prepared to snag her out of harms way if anything happened. “Who the hell are you!?”
“Who’s asking?” He smirked.
“His pet pomeranian.” She cocked a brow tauntingly.
“You’re feisty. I like that.” He chuckled. “Name’s Renkotsu. And, you’re interrupting a private conversation between the actual dog and I.”
“And, what problem could you possibly have with him!?” Kagome fumed.
“Many.” Came his brusque reply.
“Kagome, look -“ Inuyasha spoke low, only to her, amber eyes shifting from their offender to make sure he didn’t move any closer, to the side of her face - because her sight was glued straight ahead. “Just wait for me in the park. I’ll be right there.”
“What’s he saying? Trying to act like the hero and send you off?” Renkotsu teased. “He deserves everything that’s coming for him. You know what he’s done?”
“Yeah, pissed you off.” Kagome said, her tone dismissive. “I’m gonna tell you upfront that nothing you say about him is going to change my mind from thinking you’re the little bitch here.”
“If I were you, I’d reel that attitude in, little girl. You don’t know what you’re getting into.” Renkotsu warned, his amusement dwindling away. It wasn’t difficult to determine he was a hothead, easily set off by name-calling and back talk, and he didn’t take kindly to challenges against his pride.
“Am I supposed to be scared?”
“You will be if you don’t back the fuck off. I’ll give you thirty seconds to leave.”
“And, if I don’t?”
“You’ll have to watch me kick your boyfriend’s ass. Then, maybe, I’ll take you and -“
“Finish that sentence, Renkotsu! I fucking dare you!” Inuyasha growled dangerously.
“Get her to leave, Inuyasha!” Renkotsu ordered, his voice on the edge of getting even louder.
“We’re both leaving.” Kagome said with the tone of finality, grabbing onto Inuyasha’s wrist.
“The hell he is!”
“You’re from that group of assholes, right? The one Inuyasha left? Which means you’re just carrying out orders from the top. Well, tell what’s-his-face to suck a dick and to handle his dirty work, himself.” 
Inuyasha shot a look of surprise at her, a smile spreading over his lips, and turning back to look at the bald delinquent, he notched his head in appreciation of Kagome’s profanity.
“You gonna let your bitch fight your battles, mutt?”
He shrugged, still thriving off her recent jab. “She’s doing a pretty good job. How could I not?”
“You know damn well if I take this back to Bankotsu, he’ll have us out for her, too. Shut her up.”
“Bankotsu?” Kagome grimaced, blinking bemusedly. “Are you guys siblings or something?”
“No?” Renkotsu asked more than stated, his brows furrowing deeply.
“What’s with the similar names, then? That can’t just be a coincidence; it sounds so fake. Is that your actual name?”
“They don’t go by their actual names.” Inuyasha mentioned. “It’s one of the common measures they take to help protect their real identities. All of them have a code name ending in, ‘-kotsu’.”
“Seriously? Are you kidding me?” Kagome laughed audaciously, looking Renkotsu straight in his dark, narrowed eyes. “Hate to break it to you, buddy, but twinsy names aren’t intimidating.”
“It’s not what’s in a name,” He began, walking inward, his jaw clenching and unclenching repeatedly, evident from the muscles flexing at the crook of his mandible. “It’s how you present yourself. I’ve never been one for hitting chicks, but a motherfucker just might now.”
Inuyasha swapped their grips, now the one clutching to her wrist and directing her to angle behind him with a firm tug.
“I gave you the opportunity to leave, but you wanted to push your luck. I don’t like women getting involved, but oh well. Fuck me, right?”
“Yeah. Fuck you.” Inuyasha seethed, the scowl returning to set on his features. “If you think you’re ever going to touch her -“
“And, what are you gonna do?” Stopping with a foot’s distance between them, staring into the golden eyes of his original target. “Because you’ve been so successful in warding the rest of us off? You, of all people - if we can even call you that - should know by now that we don’t give up so easily. Now, she’s in the mix. Should have made her leave when you had the chance.”
“Are we done here?” Kagome questioned, her tone sharp. His eyes flickered down to her, a single, thin brow shrugging in insolence.
“Sure. I like that dress, by the way.” He grinned briefly before pursing his lips and spitting on her, his saliva still holding a tint of red and landing in the center of her breasts to stain the pastel pink she donned.
Kagome, though repulsed and disturbed, immediately grasped Inuyasha’s arm, pinching her nails into the sleeve of his jacket so he wouldn’t retaliate. His muscles were flexed and he’d been ready to swing in her defense, and even though he could easily overpower her, he didn’t fight against her. His indignation remained rigid, though, especially with the creep standing so close to them, and she knew, by the way he glared at Renkotsu, by the furious air wafting about him, by the way his shoulders were squared and his fists were tightly clenched, that he wouldn’t hesitate to attack if Renkotsu made another move.
“See you around. Both of you.” He smiled tauntingly, turning on his heel and walking away.
It wasn’t until he disappeared around the corner that Inuyasha’s shoulders deflated, a heated sigh leaving his nose as he slowly, but gently, pulled his forearm out of Kagome’s grasp. She was still angry, but with each breath she took, progressively getting steadier and deeper, her temper was fading away. Finally, Inuyasha turned around, facing her, a frown of disapproval marring his handsome face.
“You shouldn’t have done that.”
“Done what?” She inquired, her attitude still prominent.
“Jumped in like you did! You could have gotten hurt!”
“And, you’re mad at the thought of that, right?”
“You’re damn right I am!”
“Well, I got mad seeing it happen to you! So, I did something about it! It’s the same thing!”
“No, Kagome -“
“Yes!”
“No! It’s not supposed to work this way!” Inuyasha stepped in, leaving mere inches between them as they argued.
“I don’t care how it’s supposed to work! What does that even mean!?”
“That I don’t ever want you pulling a stunt like that again, got it!?”
“Excuse me!?”
 “He might have hit you, stupid! You can’t take punches like I can!”
“So, that makes it okay to just sit back and watch the show!? Like you’re some kind of punching bag!?”
“I would have handled it!”
“Then you should have!” Kagome yelled. “I heard him; he said you were holding back! Why were you holding back!?”
“Because you don’t like when I get into fights, Kagome! I didn’t want you to know this was happening! He came out of fucking nowhere, and I was trying to fend him off before you showed up!”
The tension in her brow decreased exponentially, his words ringing in her ears. She felt like an ass for doubting him that way, but still, no matter, she wasn’t sorry for pushing the jerk away from him. She would never be sorry. “It’s not that I didn’t think you could handle it. I knew you could have. I just got so angry and wanted to help.” Kagome calmly admitted.
“Well don’t.” Inuyasha said, authoritatively. “I don’t need your help.”
“Quite frankly, I don’t care what you think you need or don’t need right now. It’s irrelevant.” He flinched to counter but she beat him to the punch, holding her hand up to silence him. “You’re saying it because you don’t want me in the middle or getting hurt, I get that. But, it’s the exact same way I feel about you, so you and I are only going to end up going in circles about this. You can’t tell me what to do, and you can’t force me to just watch your head get thrown into cement without reacting.”
In all honesty, he’d forgotten he’d been hurt in the heat of it all, more concerned about protecting Kagome than anything. He hadn’t expected her to come flying in like a bat out of hell, fully prepared to square off with one of the lowlives of the city. Especially, for his sake. Once he saw her, he just reacted. Probably the same way she had. “Now you’re involved, though. That’s exactly what I didn’t want.”
“We’ll handle it.” Kagome said, unconcerned. To get a better angle on his cut, she leaned her head to the side, reaching up to gently hold his jaw and bring him down near her height. He showed no resistance, his long lashes fluttering softly as he closed his eyes.
“It’ll be fine.”
It really wasn’t all that bad. It looked like the bleeding had about stopped, but it should still be cleaned and bandaged. Releasing his face, she reached for his hand, pulling him in the direction she’d come from.
His grip on her palm tightened as they approached her home, noticing her mom’s car out front, and the living room and kitchen lights on. If she saw them, him specifically, with dried blood on his head, she’d know the night was disastrous and he’d put her daughter in a dangerous situation. He couldn’t have that. He’d already felt like a failure, but to have someone else think that, too - Kagome’s mother, no less - would be mortifying. Kagome’s attention drifted up to him at his notable discomfort, stopping with his cue.
“Your mom…”
“She’s a nurse, don’t worry.”
“No, I - I don’t want her to see this. I don’t want her to know what happened.”
The realization was evident on her face, but she didn’t look disappointed, her head turning to glance at her house before turning back to him.
“Climb up to my window. I’ll let you in.” She smiled.
“You sure?” He asked, and she nodded immediately, letting go of his hand. Before she could move further, he stopped her, pulling off his coat and handing it over. It made the idea of their date more believable if she came back with his jacket, plus it’d help hide the detestable stain. As she situated it over her arms, he reached down to grab the bottom of the zippers on both ends that landed at her thighs, lining them up together and zipping it for her. Kagome smiled appreciatively, turning around and heading inside.
Inuyasha snuck around the front toward the far left end as soon as she shut the door, grateful the curtains were pulled shut. As soon as he reached the tree he used for footing, he leveraged himself up, climbing until he could silently step onto the small roofing of the second story. Her room was still dark as he waited for her at the window, and though everything was muffled, he could vaguely hear her and her mom talking from downstairs. The specifics of their conversation were hard to distinguish, but he knew Kagome’s cheery tone from her upset one, and to him, she sounded happy. Probably fooling her mom into thinking everything was perfectly fine, despite the fact that she was home so soon after leaving.
Her footsteps grew closer, shuffling along as soon as she reached the top landing of the stairs, and even as she entered her room, she didn’t turn on the light until the door was closed. Her greeting smile was natural, and he couldn’t help but wonder how the hell she managed it. Kagome had every reason in the world to be upset right now, but she truly didn’t seem like she was. And, as she hurried over and unlocked the latch for him, sliding the window open, he was engulfed by the powerfully sweet scent of her that stayed locked up in her bedroom, thoroughly muddling any residual, negative thoughts from the evening.
He shut the window on his own, nodding when she mentioned she’d be right back and taking a seat on the floor with his back resting against the bed. Kagome was true to her word, returning less than sixty seconds later with a small first aid kit in hand.
“No, I told you it’d be fine.” Inuyasha chuckled quietly, taking the initiative to turn on the tv to drown out their voices.
“Cut’s need bandages.” Was her simple reply, not even sparing him a glance as she shuffled through her dresser drawers, pulling out a pair of leggings and a fresh shirt.
“The cut’s already healing. It’ll most likely be gone tomorrow.”
“Humor me.” Kagome rolled her eyes, pursing her lips as she tossed her clothes on the bottom edge of her mattress. “Close your eyes, please.”
Without hesitation, he complied, turning away for added effect. The ruffling of his jacket sounded heavy as she removed it, the material of her dress considerably lighter in comparison. It wasn’t the coldest night they’d had recently, but he still found Kagome brave for wearing it - long sleeved garment be damned. Then, an ache twinged in his chest. She’d worn that for him. And, the gesture hadn’t only gone to waste, but the dress was probably ruined now and he’d never be able to appreciate her in it.
At her signal, he opened his eyes, but he couldn’t bring himself to fully look at her, regret taking its hold on him. It wasn’t his fault, he knew, but that didn’t help any. How could he make up for this mess? How could he make her happy like he’d intended to tonight?
Kagome sauntered over, crossing to his right and then sitting at his side, thigh-to-thigh, facing him. The first aid kit was in hand, and she set it on the floor beside her, opening it and taking out some cotton balls in a sandwich baggy before turning to him. She seemed so gentle, her hands light when she pulled his bangs out of the way to asses the cut before doing anything else. As if feeling his unsubtle stare, her brown eyes drifted over to his, curious and large, then shied downward as the smallest of frowns tugged on her lips. Kagome dropped his hair, her hands falling to her lap before she bowed her head slightly, hovering over his shoulder.
Sometimes, you could say those three words to let a person know how deeply you feel for them. Sometimes, you could speak your profound emotions with more, or less, verbally, or physically. And, so badly did Kagome want to figure out how to properly express it all to him. To know Inuyasha, to have him sit with her, hold her hand, tell her things no matter the context, was a privilege she was scared for a while she’d never get to experience. Inuyasha, in his own essence, was such a wonderful gift. To have him care for her, and convey how much he cared through tumultuous anger weighted her heart. Maybe not in the moment could she appreciate the gesture, or clearly see his reasonings, but now that things were calmed and they sat so close, touching, trusting, she understood. How lucky she was. On the surface, Inuyasha was brash and hard-headed, he presented himself in a carefree manner, but truthfully, he was the most beautifully delicate person she’d ever met. 
Finally resting her head against his shoulder, Kagome breathed out slowly, taking in the faint and generic spice of a man’s body wash on her inhale. Funny enough, of all the guys she’d noticed it on, it smelled best on him. What had come over her was the sudden and dire need to tell him everything she felt for him. It had hit her like a freight train; intense and insatiable. Something, she needed to say something to subdue the fire igniting her nerve endings, but as she opened her mouth to speak, all that came out was a whispered, “I really like this shirt.” 
Of course, then, she laughed at herself. Typical of her to chicken out.
Kagome could feel his head come a little closer to hers, his cheek gently brushing against her hair as he said in return, “I know. I wore it for you.”
She smiled. He couldn’t see it, but she smiled.
“Are you okay?” Inuyasha asked, and she quickly sat up straight, forcing herself to appear fully recovered, as if nothing had ever fazed her.
“Yeah, I’m fine.” Kagome replied, moving back to her prior task without delay. After opening a small bottle of peroxide, she doused a cotton ball with the liquid. “Could you hold your hair out of the way?”
His expression spoke volumes on how useless he found the gesture to be, but still, he did as she asked, eye roll and all. She gently rubbed the cotton ball over the small wound to clean it, then around the surrounding area to wipe the dried blood away. His attention was roaming over her, and she tried not to pay attention to the way it alarmed the butterflies in her stomach, focusing on her task. It was like his ember irises were actual, flickering chars, and wherever his eyes landed, she felt a pleasant, burning sensation. Her cheek, her lips, her chin, her neck, her collar bone, her lips, her neck, her shoulder, her lips. All alight. 
“Some first date, huh?” Inuyasha remarked, his tone dull.
Kagome’s soft smile in response was unintentional but genuine, dropping the dirtied cotton ball on top of the bag it came out of, and as she chose an appropriate bandage, she shrugged. “That doesn’t matter to me. I mean, we could have chilled and watched tv and slapped the first date title on that, and I would have been perfectly happy.”
“But, instead you got to see me in a fight. Kagome, I’m really sorry.”
“For what?” She asked, opening the bandaid packaging and carefully holding the very edges of the adhesive strips. She angled it properly over the cut, gently sticking it down and smoothing it out. “You didn’t do anything wrong. Besides, the way I see it, I got to yell at one of the jerks that’s been terrorizing you. Trust me, it was a good time.”
Inuyasha laughed, flinching as she rubbed her fingers over the entire bandage. “Ow.” He said playfully, instinctively grabbing her hand and pulling it away. She giggled and mumbled an apology, using her free hand to smooth down his ruffled bangs as he let them go. “By the way, we need to talk about your profanity. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you talk like that. ‘Suck a dick’? Is that peak Kagome temper right there?” 
“I tend to lose my filter when I’m mad.” She exclaimed.
“You’ve got quite a vocabulary on you. It’s impressive. Remind me not to get on your bad side.” He mildly joked.
He was still holding her hand, his grip adjusted to rest it against his chest, his thumb tenderly caressing over her skin.
“So, you’re not mad at me anymore?” Kagome asked, her voice softening to take on the hint of bashfulness.
“Do I look like I’m mad at you?” Inuyasha responded soothingly. He leaned a little closer to her body, relaxed, warm. “I just - I really didn’t want you getting involved, Kagome.”
“It was kind of impossible not to.”
“I know. I get that. Now, I’m just gonna worry about you whenever we’re apart.”
“They’re not like an actual gang, are they?”
“No, they’re just like you said; a group of assholes. They tend to take their crap out on others and act like they’re tough. Some of them, though, are something to be concerned about. Statistically speaking, they’re not all gonna grow out of this phase. They’re on a gateway path, and I wouldn’t doubt if Bankotsu already had dirty affiliations.” Inuyasha said, letting go of her palm as he leaned even more towards her center, his right hand now braced on the floor by her legs in a casual manner. The closer he got to her, the more comfortable he found he felt. So comfortable, in fact, that he thought nothing of the way her fingers busied themselves in the loose tendrils of his hair along the sides of his face.
“How long were you with them?” Kagome asked.
“Not long enough to actually do anything I’d regret, aside from the obvious.”
“So, you were never actually one of them.” She stated. It felt like reassurance to the stress he already carried about having made the mistake of walking with them in the first place.
He opened his mouth to say something, but his mind blanked. Not in a hopeless way, but in the sense that there was nothing that needed to be said. As he basked in her confidence in him, calmed by the tips of her fingers continuously running through his bangs and loose strands from his ponytail, he realized that neither of them were going anywhere. What the hell was he waiting for?
There was no apprehension in his lean, the fingers of his free hand curving around the side of her neck and beneath her hair, intentionally holding just before meeting her lips. Kagome leaned in the rest of the way, her mouth soft and molding against his perfectly. And, she smiled into his kiss, giggling breathily, happily as they broke.
“I want to be with you, Kagome.” He spoke, tone husky, just as content. “You and I.”
She nodded, feeling so full and light at the same time it was difficult not to be consumed by her elation. 
“Yeah?” Inuyasha smiled, almost teasing because he could tell how shy she was getting from the fresh and deep shade of her cheeks. Again, she nodded, her head ducking slightly. “Is that a yeah?”
“Shut up.” Kagome laughed, taking the initiative to kiss him again, his sigh hot against the side of her cheek while he firmly clutched her to him.
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cosmonaughtt · 4 years
Text
hitch-hiker (steven universe future/dannny phantom crossover)
ao3
Danny's lost, thanks to the help of another ghost patrol gone wrong. Luckily he finds a kind driver who's willing to take him to the next town. But is this driver just as "normal" as he is?
Hitchhiking was NOT the way that Danny wanted to get back to Amity Park, but he was left with it as his only option, because;
1. He was exhausted. His powers could still work, sure, but he didn’t want to risk trying to fly back home, transforming back mid-flight and taking a tumble to the earth, and
2. He didn’t know where he was and what direction he had to go to in order to find his way home.
Danny tried to pull out his phone and check its signal; no luck. It wasn’t a dead-zone, but his phone was dead. Hah. Funny.
What did he have on hand? Well, he always had the thermos on hand, in his other form. He had his phone and a wallet. And that’s it.
Just his luck. 
He sent a few texts out to the ghost hunting group chat. They wouldn’t send until he had some kind of connection again, probably, but it eased his heart to 
And. And, to top it all off for his current situation, he hadn’t even found the damn ghost he’d been fighting originally! Stupid Skulker. The wild chase (of which Danny was, unfortunately, hunted again) took him back through the Ghost Zone and out through a random door. 
Which led him to this current moment. Standing on the side of the road trying to catch a lucky ride to the next town to figure out how long it’ll take to fly home.
The road was pretty empty. It was inching closer to midnight by then, and he was probably going to have to transform to try and get at least to the next town where he can break into a motel and catch up on a little bit of sleep before trying to get home.
Damn his luck. 
Danny glanced at his phone again. Now it was midnight. Hopefully, his messages would send in soon, but he was going to give it until… 12:20 until he gave in and flew. Try and recover some energy so he wouldn’t suddenly decide night-time sky diving sounds a lot of fun in the middle of nowhere. 
12:01.
12:02. 
12:04.
12:10.
The sound of a car’s engine brought Danny up from the crude drawing he was doing in the dirt by his feet. He stood, and glanced down the road. A single car, brights on, was making its leisurely way down the road.
Danny stuck his hand out and waved. Please, please, please…
To his luck (thankfully), the car slowed down as it neared him. It was a compact Dondai of sorts, but Danny never paid much attention to the different kinds of cars. He had to think of more important things, like the different kinds of ghosts. 
The passenger side window rolled down to reveal the driver.
Who looked not much older than him.
“Hey, are you okay?” The kid asked, quirking an eyebrow. He looked really young, but maybe it was bad genetics. 
“Uh, yeah, I’m good. Could I get a ride, though?”
The boy didn’t look immediately distrustful of Danny, at least. He even smiled and nodded. “Sure! Hop on in!”
The passenger side unlocked with a click-- it was one of the older cars, where you had to manually roll down the windows and had a cassette deck, but other than that you couldn’t tell. It was really nice inside, and Danny jumped into the plush seat and smiled at the driver.
“I’m Steven, your humble new chauffeur.” He introduced, with a cheeky wink. 
“Thanks. I’m Danny.”
“It’s good to meet you. Where are you heading to?”
“I just need to get to the next town. Do you know how far that is?”
Steven thought for a moment, before leaning over to Danny’s side and pulling out a map. Really off-road, but then again, Danny didn’t have any service, so the odds that Steven had some were slim as well. He didn’t bother turning on any lights in the car to read the map, but it only took him a minute to figure it all out. “An hour or so, I’d say. If I’m doing the math right.”
“I’ve got a C minus in math, I doubt I’d be much help,” Danny said. “Is that on your way? If it isn’t, I can try and--”
“No, it’s fine!” Steven interjected. “I’ll probably gas up there, and probably rent out a room to sleep.” He laughed nervously. “All buckled up?”
Danny nodded.
And off they went.
….
…… It was weird.
It only took a few minutes of being in this stranger’s car to realize how weird this situation was.
He was in the car with a boy, probably barely a year older than him. In the middle of nowhere. In the middle of the night. It was not some horror movie concept (and frankly, Danny hadn’t been scared by one of those in months after all the shit he’s been through), but it was just. Really, really, really weird. 
Steven hadn’t asked why Danny was out in the middle of nowhere. He hadn’t asked Danny’s full name, he had provided his own and hadn’t hounded Danny with any questions. He also didn’t explain much about why he was out in the middle of nowhere, either, just driving in the middle of the night.
Maybe not all things needed answers. 
“Do you mind music?”
Danny shook his head. He’d be listening to his own music, had he not broken his earbuds in the latest fight with Technus. He was going to get more tomorrow, since it was officially a weekend and he and his friends could go to the mall and he could buy them, hopefully without any fights along the way. 
“Sadie Killer and the Suspects cool?”
“Uh, yeah. Sure.” Sam had gone through a brief time of being obsessed with that band, and when she showed Danny the music he had to admit, it wasn’t that bad. 
Steven reached into the compartment by his arm and pulled out an old cassette, switching the one that had previously been in it with the new one with seasoned ease. 
Disobedient. Hm.
Again, another pause of silence. 
“So… You’re not going to ask me why I was out in the woods? In the middle of the night? Alone?”
Damn it, Danny is so awkward. But he can’t help but be confused by the stranger who took him in without questions.
Steven shrugged. “I mean, yeah, it’s kinda weird, but I’ve seen weirder.”
Oh. Now that piqued Danny’s curiosity. 
“So you pick up hitch-hikers often?”
“Eh, you’re only my third,” Steven replied. “The first was a guy who needed a ride to the hospital, I couldn’t just say no, you know? And then there was the woman who broke down on the side of the road, on the way to the car dealership. Talk about bad luck…”
“And you weren’t… afraid that they’d like, kill you or anything?”
“I can protect myself.” Danny tried to ignore the slight flinch that Steven had, but it was noticeable.
They settled into another beat of silence. Another song-- G-G-G-Ghost. Oddly fitting for Danny’s situation.
He didn’t even turn the question around and ask why Danny was in the middle of nowhere. He just… took it, as is. Might as well throw Danny’s cover story of getting lost when he got up in the middle of the night to pee while camping out the window, because Steven didn’t seem phased by anything at all.
Heh. Phased.
The thought of Steven being the maniac serial killer came, but Danny shot it down. The other teen-- he had to be a teen, or at least in his 20s, with a super bad case of Baby Face-- gave off some kind of vibe that he wouldn’t hurt anyone. 
But he could. It was extremely powerful; but not threatening. More like royalty, if anything. 
It was strange. Danny never got it confirmed as an official “ghost power”, but being able to just sense people’s vibes were definitely not a human thing. 
Then again, what was a human thing? It’s been almost two years since The Accident. 
Tucker called it being able to vibe-check people. Steven’s vibes were powerful, but not malevolent. 
“So… Steven, where are you going?”
“Eh. I don’t really know.” He gave off a smile, but it was different than his tone. “I’m trying to go on a journey of self-discovery right now? Just going where-ever the road takes me.”
“Really? Don’t you go to school or anything?”
“Eh-- uh, kinda. I’ve taken up a few online classes I can get with free wi-fi and stuff, you know?”
“How old are you?” 
“Almost seventeen.”
Alright. Danny knew some kids in Amity Park who dropped out of Caspar High. Some of them took up jobs at the Nasty Burger, others in various gas stations, and grocery stores throughout the city. So Steven must’ve been a well-off kid to just drop out, take online classes, and travel the country.
Danny was kind of jealous. Being able to just drop everything and go somewhere else, and make a new identity for yourself?
But he’d be leaving Amity Park defenseless. No, bad idea.
Danny checked his phone again for the time-- ah, finally. Connection again.
big titty goth gf: danny? helloooo?
t.f. as in the fuck: you’d think he’d be back by now.
big titty goth gf: yeah, well, he isn’t if u hadn’t noticed
t.f. as in the fuck: ………. Yeah
t.f. as in the fuck: usually he’d be out of the ghost zone by now if skulker’s got him going. think something happened?
big titty goth gf: i hope not or else jazz is gonna start yelling at us for letting him go into the gz alone
big titty goth gf: danny tuck and i are headin back to my house let us know when you’re ok?
Oh, his messages are finally going through. That’s good.
sad ghost club president: hey SHIT guys uh i got out of the ghost zone but uh. Don’t know where i am and don’t know where skulker went i’m gonna try and find a way back home. can either of u cover for me while i’m gone? Idk when you’ll get this massage
sad ghost club president: *message fuck tonight sucks
It wasn’t long until someone responded. They were teens, they were up late on a weekend night. No rules.
big titty goth gf: oh thank GOD its been like two hours 
t.f. as in the fuck: good to hear you’re ok! sam and i got ya covered. But where are you?
sad ghost club president: tuck i just said i didn’t know. but a kind samaritan stopped and i’m on route to the closet down 
t.f. as in the fuck: you’re HITCH-HIKING?
sad ghost club president: well it’s either that or having a fun trip skydiving tonight, so yeah
big titty goth gf: just be safe danny, don’t fall into a horror movie
sad ghost club president: remember i’m scarier than anything they can throw at me owo
sad ghost club president: plus this guy doesn’t look like he’d hurt a fly
sad ghost club president: or, well, he could if the fly hurt him first. Vibe Check is going off yall
big titty goth gf: i still cant believe u refer to that as ur Vibe Check
t.f. as in the fuck: sam its a good name
big titty goth gf: I Beg To Differ
t.f. as in the fuck: anyway if his vibe check is clear then you’re probably ok danny
sad ghost club president: yeah but its still super weird. he hasn’t asked why i was in the middle of the woods or anything, he didn’t ask me any questions about whio i am?? he’s also like. jazz’s age at MOST. just driving nowhere in the middle of the night because apparently he’s on some sort of journey of self-discovery
big tittyy goth gf: yeah thats weird but also danny?
sad ghost club president: yeah sam?
big titty goth gf: stop being paranoid
big titty goth gf: also ur cover story is being at my place with tucker for a movie night like we originally planned until He came around.
t.f. as in the fuck: fuck skulker
sad ghost club president: skulker does not have rights
He could chill now, that he knew that Sam and Tucker have his back (like always, they always have his back) and a cover story already set up. His parents didn’t question his whereabouts usually on Friday nights, because he usually spent them with his friends and they were usually too buried in research to notice him not there.
Sad, but true.
Steven changed out the cassette tape for another, continuing the quiet drive down the road.
This is okay. They were probably only half an hour away now. Once they got to the city, Danny could look it up on his GPS app and see how long it’d take to fly back home. He couldn’t have ended up too far away from home, but with the Ghost Zone, he had doubts sometimes.
Of course just as everything seemed to be okay, everything had to go downhill immediately.
It started with his ghost sense going off. Steven was preoccupied with looking at the road, listening to the music playing through the speakers. Luckily. 
Danny glanced out the window.
Skulker’s face materialized through nothing and threw his robotic body at the car.
It was a shake, but the sudden force against the poor car sent it sliding across the road. Steven grasped the wheel hard and hit the brakes, and Danny braced himself and held onto whatever he could.
Luckily it was midnight in the middle of nowhere, no one else was on the road.
“You okay, Danny?” Steven asked, looking around with frantic eyes.
“I’m-- yeah, I’m good.” Danny took a deep breath. He glanced out the window again. Skulker was still around, no doubt about it, and Danny’s ghost sense went off again. He’s close.
“What was--” 
Danny didn’t want Steven to have to deal with ghosts, on top of his existential cross-country trip to find himself. For all Danny knew, the kid didn’t even believe in ghosts! He unbuckled his seatbelt and threw open the door.
“Thanks for the ride, goodbye!”
He didn’t want to deal with Skulker, once Steven was out of the way he’d go ghost and try and fly to the town nearby and figure out where he was, then let Skulker hunt him all the way back to Amity Park. All in a night’s work.
“Wait, Danny--?”
He ducked into the brush by the side of the road, trying to lure Skulker away from Steven. He didn’t want more normal people to get involved in his problems.
But apparently the other kid didn’t take goodbye! very well, Danny turned his head around and saw Steven following him carefully into the woods by the side of the road.
Before he could tell Steven to turn around and go, Skulker appeared. Of course. Steven was immediately drawn to the sight of the sudden floating, glowing robot in mid-air, of course, but it didn’t go the other way. 
“You’re too out-of-range to have your friends help you with that stupid tablet now, whelp.” Skulker had somehow got re-synced to one of Tucker’s tablets, and it was good while it lasted, but it seemed Danny was out of time. And even if they were still synced up, they were too far away from Amity Park for it to connect.
Damn it. Just his luck.
“Let’s make this quick, shall we?” Skulker added before Danny could interject with a witty remark. He raised one of his DALV-made ecto-guns and it shot.
Go intangible, his instincts said.
FUCK, his brain said, helpfully.
He closed his eyes and braced for whatever was coming-- intangibility, pain, whatever. Hopefully, Steven got the idea to run--
No pain came. He wasn’t intangible.
Danny opened one eye.
And then the other. 
Steven was standing between him and Skulker, and a weird… It wasn’t ecto-energy, but it was some kind of pink energy, forming a barrier, taking the hit from the ecto-gun too easily.
What.
The fuck.
Steven turned around to Danny, eyes wide. “Danny, are you okay?”
“Uh-- the-- what.” Skulker looked as annoyed as he usually did, if not more, and tried to phase through the pink barrier. “Are you-- what-- uh. I think my brain has officially had it. Yeah, you know, this might as well happen.”
Steven cringed. “Oh, the shield. It’s a, uh… Long story.”
“Yeah, okay, I’ll take your word for it.” Danny replied. He looked back at Skulker. He didn’t want to transform right in front of Steven, but the barrier probably wouldn’t hold forever, or Skulker would just go over it or under it eventually. 
Steven could clearly protect himself. This is what he meant, it seemed.
“Well. I didn’t freak out on you. So don’t freak out on me now, okay?” Danny looked to Steve, who nodded.
“No freaking out, got it!”
Danny allowed the familiar rings to transform him. Why he was trusting this random kid with the biggest secret he had (well, one of the biggest secrets, technically), Danny didn’t know.
But the kid obviously wasn’t normal himself, as evidenced by the glowing pink barrier between him and the ghost.
And to his word, Steven did not freak out. His eyes did glimmer and he did look at Danny with an odd sort of familiarity to it, a sort of kin-ship of weird teenagers with weird powers. Apparently.
Skulker broke through the barrier. He looked down at Steven, then to Danny. “Looks like I’ve got two pelts to add to my collection.”
“Ew, gross?” Steven replied, looking a bit sick to his stomach. 
“Yeah, you get used to it after a while.” Danny shrugged, before turning to Skulker again. “How many times do I have to tell you, Skulker, that you’re never gonna get your hands on my beautiful hair?”
Danny charged ectoblasts into his hands. Steven allowed more of that weird-pink energy form around his fists, like boxing gloves. Ah, not just a one-trick show pony. 
“I’ve got your back, Danny.”
And for once, Danny didn’t feel alone in his ghost-fighting.
----
Skulker was taken down easily with two people fighting instead of one, especially with barriers that could take hits from both ecto-gun blasts and normal ecto-energy blasts pretty well. It was probably not even five minutes until the pesky hunter was sucked up into the thermos and stashed back in the safe space along Phantom’s handy belt.
Steven didn’t even look fatigued. It looked like he had more energy than he had started with originally-- probably the adrenaline high that came with every ghost hunt. 
“Alright. I was trying to not be too nosy, but what was that?” 
“A ghost.”
“A… a ghost?!”
“Yup. Not the whole horror-movie, boo and spook ya kind of ghosts.” Danny said, floating down to where Steven stood. “You’re taking this well.”
“You’re taking this well.” Steven wasn’t even bruised and he’d been thrown into a tree during their fight. He wasn’t even bleeding, but one of his fists was still covered with the magic-bubble glove. He flexed and it popped, fading away.
“Well, at this point, anything might as well happen.” Danny landed, allowing him to transform back. “You can’t tell anyone about this, alright?”
The sudden harsh tone in Danny’s voice startled Steven, and he straightened up. “Scout’s honor! Even though I was never a scout.” Steven shrugged. “And, well, I never kept my gem powers a secret, so I don’t care if you tell anyone or not, I guess?”
“Gem powers?” It was the word that Skulker had thrown out during their fight, but Danny was just trying to take him down quickly so he could get home quickly so he could take a nice, long nap. 
“Oh, yeah. I’m half-gem.” To prove, Steven lifted his shirt and showed that, in the placement of his navel was a bright pink gemstone. “Half-gem, half-human.”
Wow.
The only experiences Danny had ever had with other hybrids like him-- halfas-- were Dani and Vlad. Dani (or, Ellie, as she said last in one of her letters) was his clone, for starters, who was taking soul-searching to a whole new global level. Vlad was an egotistical maniac who wanted to kill his dad so he could date his mom.
“I’m… I’m half-human, too. Except, half-ghost instead.” He could feel a few tears welling up, but he pushed them aside. “Normally I’d say you’re going to have to wait a little longer to unlock my tragic backstory, but after tonight I’d say we both have stories to tell.” 
Steven smiled. “I still owe you a ride to the next town, don’t I?”
22 notes · View notes
heart2jeno · 4 years
Text
the stars we saw that day
▸ 💌 : u:mi is writing … ✎♡
꒰ 26.02.27 ꒱— i tried posting this a few days ago but it literally ? just collected dust and a measly 2 notes so i’m guessing something went wrong when i switched from posting it on mobile to later editing it on desktop. be a peach and pretend this is the first time i’m posting this... heh, enjoy the fic <3 !
a sexc one-shot for my favourite scorpio on this website @jaenocide 
. . . 🌙 ⭐️ 🚀 . . .
₊˚. one (1) new incoming rq┊📥 !!
┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄┄╮
❑ band au …
❑ enemies to lovers …
❑ prompt 1 : “ are you sure this
is legal ? ”
❑ member : RENJUN of NCT
↷… 🌙ˀˀ | opening FILE . . . ꒱ - - - - ☆
“you’re late.”
you dropped your schoolbag onto one of the plastic chairs against the wall, with a thump, and rolled your eyes, “and you’re already getting on my nerves,” is what you would have retorted, if you had had the energy to do so.
there were so many other things that you’d rather be doing. it was obvious that you hadn’t been given the choice of who you were meeting in one of the school’s tiny secluded practice-rooms after classes because the guy currently scowling daggers at your back would definitely not have been one of your choices—for obvious reasons.
if you had been given your way, you would never even have to see his face at all. so, naturally, when you looked over your shoulder, you returned his icy glare with one of your own, “my bad. ‘didn’t realise you’d be here counting down the minutes.”
his laugh was humorless, “don’t flatter yourself.” as he moved to the wall-piano in the corner of the room, he continued, “i wouldn’t be crying over my keys if you hadn’t show up.”
huang renjun: the art department’s favourite student, pianist protégée, beloved by every teacher who had ever had the absolute delight of having him in their class, the biggest pain-in-your-ass—only to name a few of the names that he’s accumulated during his years at the school on the outskirts of seoul.
no one ever really knew why the two of you couldn’t stand eachother; it had always been that way, for as long as anyone could remember.
☄︎. *. ˖⋆࿐໋₊
if you thought back on it—which you hardly ever found yourself doing—the first memory you had of huang renjun was back in elementary, when you had just transferred.
he had looked at you strangely—as if you were out-of-place, like an alien or something like that—the moment he had sat opposite you at the same table during class. you remember how he had murmured something behind his hand to jeno who sat beside him. they had kept glancing across at you throughout the lesson, muttering under their breaths.
during recess that day, you had stood on tiptoe and peered into the reflection of one of the school building’s window, wondering if your mum had braided your hair unevenly or if there were remnants of the cupcake you had eaten earlier in the day around your mouth. neither had seemed to be the case—which had only left you even more confused.
what had made you certain that huang renjun hated you was when he landed you your first ever lunch-time detention, in your last year of elementary.
the two of you, as well as your best-friends: donghyuck ‘haechan,’ jeno and jaemin (who had been renjun’s best friends first and still were—although admitting that you shared anything with renjun left a foul taste in your mouth) had sat on the same table in maths.
you had walked into the classroom, after break, to see renjun already sat down. usually, during lessons you’d ignore his presence as best as you could. you would pretend not to hear his ‘help’ whenever you struggled with the worksheet, prefering to soldier on; it wasn’t as if you’d feel any joy giving renjun the satisfaction of knowing more than you do.
but you had been quick to notice the sketchbook—your sketchbook—held in his greasy little hands. you must have forgotten to put it back inside your bag, the lesson before. his eyes had risen from examining the open pages and they widened when he registered you standing in the doorway.
as you stormed towards him, renjun’s mouth had opened to say something; it was as fruitless as trying to calm a raging tempest.
“give me that,” you seethed, snatching the book from him; your face felt like it was burning. the things you drew weren’t stuff that would get you in trouble but they were rather—well, looking back on it—weird: pretty schoolgirls with brightly-coloured hair sitting on yellow grass beneath a purple-coloured sky, mermaids on rocks akin to the candy of the same name beneath a gatorade waterfall, forest elves with the ability to control different elements. they were fantasy or sci-fi drawings, taking inspiration from the stories you made up in your head during daydreams, or from the stories you’d read at night when you were supposed to be sleeping. none of which you planned to sit down and share with renjun.
he had tried to say something again, bristling at your tone, but you didn’t allow him an opening, “haven’t you ever heard of a thing called privacy?” you quickly placed your sketchbook safely in your bag, making sure it was secured, before glowering at him, “paws off, brace-face.”you remember the surge of satisfaction that had coursed through you, when you watched how quickly his face became red.
after renjun had gotten his braces, you had overheard donghyuck call him the name, playfully nudging him in the arm. you didn’t think it would be enough to rile him up but it wasn’t soon after that when he stuck his hand up in the air to tell the teacher about what you had called him. you had stubbornly refused to apologise which resulted in a lunch-time spent writing lines of ‘i shall not name-call’ until your hand ached.
before you had started playing the guitar for the band, you had taken private violin lessons; since they were at your highschool, your music instructor would pair you and the other violinists up with the pianists for the end of month evaluation, because there weren’t that many of you altogether in the department. you didn’t mind, when you were paired with the care-free jaemin who smiled whenever he watched you play and let you sit beside him on the bench as he practiced his new arrangement. you may have even confessed that he gave you butterflies whenever he laughed at your bad jokes.
but there were a few months where you would be partnered with none other than renjun—who you felt was the only one who hated you more than the universe seemed to.
the pair of you played well enough during performances; in the words of your instructor who would even go as far as pulling the two of you aside afterwards, “it could even secure a place in the annual competition held in the city.” every time, the two of you would thank him stiffly, as if doing anything more would give the other a sort of advantage in your long-standing dispute.
to you, the thought of performing on stage would be a wonderful step-up from playing in the school’s small practice room littered with broken instruments on the shelves and the ancient piano stuffed in one corner (all giving the room a foul timeworn odour that hung in the air, even with the door open)—was welcomed, even—but with renjun? not a chance.
⋆·˚ ༘ * 🔭
“whatever,” you muttered, turning your back on him again and putting your case on one of the other plastic chairs. as you crouched down to unclasp it, you registered the sound of a page turning behind you and you took out your violin and bow. although you’d never admit it out loud, it wasn’t an exaggeration that renjun was a talented pianist. maybe if he did ever compete in the national piano competition, he’d even make it to the finals. maybe. your grip tightens on the neck of your violin as you brace yourself for an hour of torture (practice) with huang renjun.
that was in highschool.
“hey.”
you had graduated three years ago. yet here you were. 
you poked your tongue into the inside of your cheek, before letting it sweep over your teeth. not taking your gaze off the window and the scenery that rolled past as the car drove through the city, you muttered, “what.”
there’s a pause—which you knew meant that he’s taking a moment to study you. you’re past the point of caring what went on in renjun’s head when he saw you; if anything you wished he’d be less keen to voice them aloud.
“i thought you did well earlier.”
you tensed in your seat, despite knowing better than to rise to the bait he had once again cast out to sea. of course, he always managed to haul an abundance, by the end of the day. when you didn’t respond, he took it as a cue to continue—or he didn’t care and continued anyway (you assumed the latter.) “what you said almost made me blush,” you could practically see the mocking smirk on his face, imprinted on the inside of your eyelids, as you closed your eyes and took a deep breath.
you finally turned your head to glare daggers, which seemed to only harmlessly glance off him, as he continued, “almost. although, of course, we both know better,” your skin crawled when he patted your hand in mock-affection, “don’t we, baby?”
you would have assumed that the two of you would have grown out of your childish war by now, especially after your whole ‘rise-to-fame,’ but no, you still hated everything about huang renjun: how he always had to have the last word, always had a remark on the tip of his tongue with a glint in his eye, always laughed at you like there’s a joke you’re not aware of.
but, most of all—especially now—you hated the feeling you got in your stomach whenever he looked at you so... so lovingly: like a million butterflies laid dormant there until he started talking with that look on his face—like they only took flight at his beck and call. you hated it—you hated it all.
you couldn’t decide which one made you feel worse: the fact, you knew as well as him, that it’s all a fabricated lie or the fact that it still managed to affect you so deeply, despite that piece of knowledge.
you see: if someone had told you, during the days when you used to practice in one of your school’s cramped music-rooms, that, a few years down the line, your band would be signed to one of the biggest entertainment companies in korea, you would have called them crazy; if they had continued and said that you and renjun would quickly be known as the country’s beloved ‘star couple,’ you may have punched them square in the nose.
yet here you were, being driven home after the day’s schedule—which had included an interview for one of the biggest magazines in south korea.
you had felt like the interview had been less professional than it should have been; it focused more on your adored ‘relationship’ with renjun, rather than the promotion of your group’s new album. it included questions like ‘when did the two of you realise you loved eachother?’ and ‘what’s your favourite thing about the other person?’
there had been many instances where you had had to resist the overwhelming urge to throttle both renjun, when he watched you with more of a taunting smirk than a lover’s smile, and the interviewer who had clearly been far more keen on hearing his answer than yours.
does a person have to blink that much? you remember asking youself, as you watched the interviewer lean unnecessarily closer to renjun and bat her eyes, as he was answering one of the questions about how often you get into arguments (”rarely ever, we never disagree on things” bullshit, huang.) instead of letting your disgust slip through, you secure your mask and play the role of the meek girlfriend, giggling at your boyfriend’s answer.
you had dipped your head slightly and bit your lip, trying to stop yourself from smiling, as a thought came to mind; our fans won’t be too happy when they notice this, in the video. while they’re easily deceived by yours and renjun’s ‘romance,’ they could pick up on many other things: including smitten interviewers.
your supporters were dedicated, often even extreme—and it was both their upbringing and in some cases, their ultimate flaw. despite yourself, you couldn’t wait to read the comments about this interview, in a few days.
pinching the skin on your wrist wasn’t enough to distract you from renjun’s presence anymore; not when you had to always hold his hand or link arms whilst walking around in public, because of the cameras flashing wherever you went in order to capture and report every detail to this media and the other; there even had to be the occasional kiss, if they had been particularly quiet and needed something new to gush about, like a child being rewarded with a treat for being so well-behaved.
sickening, how so many people get a thrill from a deluded sense of control over celebrities’ personal lives and relationships; as if we’re nothing but dolls. even if your relationship was fake—it wasn’t as if these people knew that. you supposed it was your company’s fault, for making you and renjun parade  around like two stupid lovebirds as well as your own fault for letting them. but, hey, business is business.
to the public, you were two enamoured young stars who couldn’t wait until they were behind closed doors to display their desire for eachother. in reality, his hand on your wrist, as you waited for your transport after finishing the day’s schedule, was actually to keep you from writhing away: as if his touch physically scalded. when you leaned in to ‘lovingly whisper’ into his ear during music awards, you were actually hissing warnings about what would happen once you get back to the dorms if he kept getting on your nerves.
💫༉‧₊˚✧
you seize the opportunity to slip away from the eyes of producers and camera crew, as they finally move on to bombard haechan with questions and commands for another new promotion video. he notices you just as you’re about to leave and jokingly mouths a dramatic, “save me.”
you laugh silently and give him the thumbs-up, before backing out of the room. you make your way down the corridor and up the flight of stairs, the sound of your echoing steps drastically different to the constant chatter and background noise that you had grown so accustomed to. making it to the top, you barely hesitate, as you open the door to the building’s rooftop.
when you step out into the night, you close your eyes and—for the first time in what feels like forever—take a deep breath. you savour the cool air entering your lungs, as your muscles relax—you didn’t even realise how tense you had been. this life was everything you and your group had dreamed of: money, fame, parties with a-listers almost every weekend… so why did you feel so worn out by it all?
you tilt your head up to the inky sky, feeling infinitely small beneath the sparse pinpricks of light that shone above—out of reach, yet impossible to miss. a reminder. a comfort. your worries momentarily drift away on the cool wind, as the night embraces you, like an old friend. if only for a few minutes, until someone is sent to find you. it’s only when you open your eyes again that you notice someone perched on the ledge, their legs dangling over.
renjun’s silhouette was framed by the bright lights of soul: the office towers, shopping district and apartment buildings that made up the inner-city in the distance. had he felt like he had to get away for a while, the way you had?
he jumps at the sound of the door that slams shut behind you, his upper-body whipping around to find the cause of the noise. when he realises that it’s only you and not one of the production members who probably wouldn’t stop irritating him, he visibly relaxes and turns back around. some part of you is relieved that he would gladly tolerate your company over the crew’s—but, then again, you’d prefer him over their constant commands and orders too. and that said alot... right?
a slim beam of light shoots out from where your ‘boyfriend’ sits and you watch it dart across the towering buildings a distance away, “is that a… laser?”
he hums.
“are you sure this is legal?” you ask as you sit beside him on the ledge, maintaining a respectful distance—more for your own comfort than his. you continue watching the dancing light, “i mean, you might distract a pilot… or something.”
he’s silent for several moments, the laser-pen falling slack in his hand, “hm… nah, ‘don’t think so,” he gives you a sidewards-glance, noting your furrowed brow. he runs his fingers through his hair which you notice is now peaking behind his ears and down the nape of his neck, into the collar of his shirt.
if things were different, you may have even reached out to play with a few strands or ask him if he was thinking of growing it out. but, instead, your fingers remain curled into fists on your lap and your mouth stays shut as he resumes pointing the laser at seoul’s inner-city. it was surprising that the crimson beam was able to project that far.
“cut it out,” you finally sigh, after a few moments of awkward silence, ignoring his noise of protest as you snatch the pen from his hand and pocket it.
“you’ve never been any fun,” he murmurs, running his hands over his face before rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
at a sidewards glance, you realise renjun is bare-faced, without the usual thin layer of makeup and styled hair. he looks as tired as you feel. so he’s just been up here, all this time. as you steal a few more glances at him, you wonder if, maybe, your hectic schedule was taking its toll on someone else as well.
you quickly catch yourself staring, longer than you really should be, when he meets your eye. you avert your gaze to the city ahead, ignoring the heat rising in your cheeks.
“so you couldn’t stand it down there either, huh?” renjun says, if only to fill the silence stretching between the two of you. out of the corner of your peripheral vision, you can see him still watching you.
“just needed some air,” you say, shrugging.
he hums, clasping his hands in his lap. out of the corner of your eye, you can see him tapping a knuckle with his finger—a habit of his.
you both lapse into another stifling silence and, after a while, your eyes lift up to the sky; you strain to catch a glimpse of any stars.
renjun watches you, the corners of his mouth curving up into a small smile as he says, “it’s disappointing.” your eyes slide to meet his as he says, “you’ve heard of light pollution, right?”
“i was in your geo class, idiot.”
“well you wouldn’t blame me if i thought you didn’t pay a lot of attention,” after a beat, he quickly adds, “idiot.”
your eyes crinkle as you laugh, shaking your shoulders.
“i’m serious,” his intonation lilts off at the end, making it sound like he’s whining, “i swear you spent more time sleeping than actually taking notes.”
“i took tons of notes!” of course, you’re lying.
although you used to do your best to pay attention in class, you couldn’t help but fall asleep or stare out of the window or pay attention to anything else other than the lesson—it wasn’t your fault that the class was so boring.
what came as a surprise were the notes you discovered in your locker between classes which went over everything from the lesson before, delivered without fail. you didn’t know who left the neatly-organised notes, because you didn’t recognise the handwriting, whenever you compared it to your friends’.
the smile he flashes catches you off-guard.
it’s not like the ones that don’t reach his eyes—the ones you have forever been accustomed to—or the ones he gave you when there were thousands of cameras and eyes trained to capture every move that the pair of you made. those smiles were fake, dripping of unbearingly sweet honey which the oblivious public lapped up and simply couldn’t get enough of.
yet it isn’t the blatantly aggravating smirks he’d flash your way after delivering a biting remark about how well you sang his praises for an interview.
no, this smile is unlike the two masks he usually wears and discards. it seems… genuine? you can’t explain the feeling in your stomach at the sight.
“you mean, my notes?”
of course, they were his. your face burns as the realisation washes over you—or, more accurately, crashes into you like a tsunami wave. you mentally curse yourself for your stupidity as well as the irony of it all.
you had never tried to look at his writing, unless it was to quickly scrutinise the little notes he’d made on his music sheets which he begrudgingly shared with you during duet practices all those years ago. you had never really given it much thought. now you feel stupid for never doing so.
upon seeing your reaction, he takes your silence in stride—and laughs. the butterflies take flight in your stomach when you realise he’s not mocking you; you even smile weakly.
you’re not surprised at renjun’s reaction, before he muses aloud, “woah. ‘didn’t know you could do that.”
your smile falters. instinctively, your mouth works faster than your brain and you quickly retort, “well you don’t really give me many reasons to, do you?”
now it’s your turn to be surprised, as he simply tilts his head back, laughing up at the night sky. the sound is melodical and makes the fluttering in your stomach harder to ignore. you laugh weakly, the new situation catching you off-guard. are you seriously hiding on a rooftop and joking around with huang renjun? and were you… enjoying it?
“i bet i’m gonna wake up soon,” he says, as if reading your mind, after the laughter dies down. it’s a lot less awkward than it had been only moments before. “we’ll be at eachother’s throats again by tomorrow,” he quirks a brow at you for confirmation, “right?”
you hum, scratching your cheek with the knuckle of a finger, “maybe.”
“i mean,” he glances at you before staring down at his laced figers, “…why are we like this?”
you don’t have to ask him to be more specific, “i… i dunno,” you laugh dryly, fiddling with the laser-pen in your pocket, “you’ve hated me since day one.”
“what?” you would have thought he was goading you, if you hadn’t seen the shock that immediately crosses his features. he shoots you a puzzled look.
“you did,” you insist, trying hard to convince yourself that you were being logical, especially after his unexpected reaction, “remember? elementary school. miss kim’s class.” he tilts his head, like a confused puppy, brows furrowed as you continue to jog his memory, “you sat next to jeno and kept looking at me like—like i was something gross that you stepped in!”
“what?” renjun repeats, laughing breathily as he shakes his head, “no, that’s not true.” he looks at you, running his hand through his hair again. he searches your expression, “oh come on, y/n” hearing him say your name so casually makes your heart skip a beat. what is happening to you? “you were a new girl and…” his gaze falls to his hands again, as he mutters, “and… you were... cute…” he seems to be surprised by his own words, as he scratches the nape of his neck, his eyes suddenly avoiding your direction.
he did not just say that. he couldn’t have; out of all the things you were expecting, that was not one of them, “you’re joking.”
he gives you a pointed glance; as if the answer has been obvious, “if you asked jeno, he’d humiliate me,” quickly, he adds, “if he still remembers… which i doubt. i made him swear not to say anything.”
a supressed memory resurfaces, of jeno back in elementary: he had told you once that renjun had a crush on you. because of how unbelievable it seemed, you had iced him out for a solid week—similar to how you ignored renjun—for telling you such an unfunny joke, until he admitted that he had lied and apologised. maybe he hadn’t been lying afterall.
“oh,” you say quietly, before it fully sinks in and you put your face in your hands, “oh.”
renjun had never hated you. he had never insulted you first; if anything, he only ever lashed back in self-defence. it had been your fault for misunderstanding on that first day. while you were sat there feeling self-conscious, renjun had been talking to jeno throughout that lesson because he had thought you were cute.
renjun can’t help but smile at the way your voice came out muffled. “so you get it now?”
you reach out, weakly slapping his arm in embarrassment; he makes an equally weak attempt to dodge it, laughing again.
“god…” you rub your face, feeling like it was burning up again; this had to be the third time you’ve embarrassed yourself tonight. the crushing realisation of how different things could have been, if you hadn’t been so stupid, had you hiding your face in your hands again and shaking your head, “i’m…” your laugh is muffled, “i’m so sorry for…” you waved a hand between the two of you, “all of this.”
for the second time tonight, you’re pleasantly suprised when renjun only smiles up at the stars and shakes his head, looking lax, “well, better late than never,” he shoots you a playful grin, “ten years late than never.”
you slap his arm again, laughing, “stop that.”
in the end, or the beginning—whichever way you want to look at it—the thing that resolved your ten-year cat-and-dog relationship built over a misunderstanding was a fateful encounter on a rooftop and, under a light-polluted sky, you realised that you love everything about huang renjun.
you love how he talks so passionately about his different theories, especially the one about other universes existing at the same time as ours (“like. y/n. imagine that, in some other universe, we’re not even sitting on this rooftop. or that this rooftop never even existed. crazy, huh?”) as well as the possibility of alien life (“we haven’t even fully explored the ocean. who’s to say that aliens aren’t out there? or… already living amongst us?”)
you love how interested he had been, when you told him about the stories behind the drawings he had remembered from your sketchbook; he even described some of his own childhood drawings which were just as (and maybe even more) eccentric.
he has the sharp wit and humour to make you laugh until your sides hurt, especially on that memorable night which had been the first of many: you had had to hold his arm to stop yourself from accidentally falling off, as you writhed around; it proved to be almost useless, because renjun had been hysterical as well. both of your laughter rang in the night—and neither of you even had enough awareness to feel the cold.
but, most of all, you love the feeling you get in your stomach whenever he looks at you; those butterflies that take flight whenever he says your name. everything you had thought you knew about him was wrong—and your heart melts whenever you remember how he had been waiting for you to realise. maybe it had to take ten years, for the two of you to get to where you are now.
jeno gives you a wide-eyed look when he catches you cuddled up to renjun at the dorm, one night. passing the two of you on the sofa, he asks, “is this a hidden camera prank?” his eyes dart around, searching the corners of the room and even jokingly lifting up the bowl of cereal that he was carrying to inspect the bottom of it.
renjun grabs the cushion you had been hugging and you make a small sound of protest, before simply reaching to the side to grab another one. you laugh as you catch sight of jeno dodging the one thrown at him by the older boy and his free hand which moved to protect his cereal from spilling, “hey! you don’t have to hurt the lucky charms!”
as he saunters off to his room, he calls out, “i did try to tell you that he liked you, y/n!”
you reach out to the laser-pen on the coffee-table in front of the sofa and flash the light into jeno’s eyes, when he looks over his shoulder at the two of you. you laugh along with renjun as he yells in surprise and quickly shuts his door with a snap before any more harm can be done to him or his lucky charms.
huang renjun and y/n l/n: the nation’s beloved it-couple or, in your eyes, two people with a lot of time to make up for.
you believe that the two of you will get there, eventually—and hopefully it takes less than another ten years.
42 notes · View notes
kayteewritessteve · 5 years
Text
If Only You Knew - 17/19
Description: You arrive home one day to find a wedding invite for two of your best friends from high school. You knew this day was going to come eventually, but even with that said, you weren’t prepared to return home. At least not after 7 years of avoiding Buckhannon, West Virginia. Or rather, avoiding him; your ex-best friend and the secret love of your life. But maybe it was finally time to face your past, to face him, and everything else that happened on that horrible night. Who would have knew that your prom would end up being a total disaster, and the very last night you’d spend in Buckhannon for the next 7 years? you certainly didn’t. That’s for sure.
Catch up HERE.
Word Count: 3,020 ish.
Pairing: Modern!Steve Rogers x Reader.
Rating: 18+
Warnings: Violence. Drinking. Bad and offensive jokes. Possible triggering thoughts, feelings and emotions. Moments of bullying and harsh name calling. Lots of curse words. And a very sloooow burn.
A/N: I sadly don’t own any of these characters. And no beta reader, so I do proudly own all the errors and this story, so there’s that.
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July 2018 - Present.
“I believe she asked you to step away from her.” Steve. It was Steve.
And then just like that, this was all starting to feel like fucking deja vu, except the last time hadn’t exactly turned out so well, so now you were nervous as hell to see the outcome, this time around.
You went to agree with Steve and once again tell Brock to back the fuck up but before you could even get a word out he spins around to face Steve.
“Would you just fuck off already?” He shakes his head, “damn, you are like the worlds largest cock block.”
Steve bursts out laughing, and loudly at that, “please, like you’d ever stand a chance with her.” He continues to laugh, “you’re fucking hilarious, Brock, you know that?” He takes a few steps towards you and moves the bar stole out of the way, so you can finally put some distance between yourself and Brock. And thank fuck for that. Then he gently positions you so you’re just slightly behind him, using his own body to shield you from Brock.
“That’s rich, coming from you,” Brock shakes his head, but then clearly catches a glimpse of your confused face and smirks. “Or does she still not know your little secret?”
Steve freezes, and you see all the muscles in his back go taut, “Brock, don’t.”
“She doesn’t, does she?” Now Brock is the one who laughs loudly. “Wow. Steve, man. I finally get it, why your such an asshole.” He looks thoughtful for a moment, “what is this now, 9 years you’ve been—“
“Brock,” Steve growls cutting him off.
You take a step to the side then look between the two men, utterly confused about what Brock is getting at here. But neither of their expressions are giving you a damn thing to go on.
“Are you still not ready to tell her?” He sneers, “or do you need another 2 weeks of ignoring her to finally grow the balls to tell her?”
Your eyes cut instantly to Brock upon hearing his words. And if you were having a hard time keeping up before, you’re certainly fully fucking lost now. Before you can stop it, your mind takes you back to the 2 weeks in question, or more specifically the days leading up to your horrible prom night…
July 2011 - 7 years ago.
It had been just over a week, 8 days to be specific, since Steve’s birthday party. You’d tried numerous times to call and text him over the weekend following his party but had received no response at all. And on top of that your calls had gone straight to voicemail, which was fucking odd.
So when the Monday after his party had finally come around, you’d woken up bright and early, figuring when he arrived to pick you up for school, you’d finally get the chance to ask him why he’d ignored you all weekend. So you had gotten dressed quickly then went outside to sit on the front porch steps and waited for him to show up.
However, as the time kept ticking along, and he still hadn’t shown up, you’d started to worry. It wasn’t like Steve to be late for anything, especially not when it came to picking you up. You’d attempted to call him, and at that time it had actually rang, but then eventually went to voicemail. So you’d tried again, with the same exact outcome. You’d decided to give him the benefit of the doubt and had just continued to wait…..
Yeah, bad choice though, as you’d ended up being extremely late for school that day… and had to actually get Hilde to give you a ride home at the end of the day, as you hadn’t see Steve once. Which was also odd, as his jeep had been in the student parking lot when you’d finally gotten to school that morning. But then it was gone by the end of class, when you’d finally made it out of the school.
You’d then tried multiple times to text and call him throughout the week, but they all went ignored and unanswered. You’d even gone so far as to goto his house, not once, but three times, receiving the same response from his family every time, “sorry, Y/N. Steve isn’t home right now.” And you may have believed them if his jeep hadn’t been parked on the side of the house 2 of those 3 visits…
When you would occasionally catch the odd glimpses of him, either at his locker or in the halls, you’d approached him, but each time he’d barely even look at you and then brush you off, giving you some bullshit excuse as to why he had to leave and couldn’t talk. Then he’d abruptly walk away from you. Every. Damn. Time.
You had no fucking clue what the fuck had happened the night of his party, or why he all of a sudden couldn’t even stand being near you. But what you did know, was that you missed the crap outta him, and you didn’t know how to fix this. And to make matter worse, he no longer joined your friends group for lunch, be it on the field or in the cafeteria. Where he was going for lunch? You had no fucking clue. You just knew it was clearly anywhere that you weren’t.
You’d even asked your friends multiple times about it, but they’d all either play dumb, like they hadn’t noticed the change in him. Or they’d tell you they had no clue what was going on with him. Both answers left you even more angry, frustrated and hurt.
But today, today the dam finally broke…
You were digging through your locker, trying to find your stupid fucking math book—okay, that was a little aggressive, but you were just so upset and frustrated by the last 8 days that even the smallest little inconveniences were like life altering events. “Where the fuck are you!” You mumble to yourself then hear Nat’s soft voice from behind you, “Y/N?”
You glance over your shoulder to see Nat, Wanda, Hilde and Clint all standing behind you now. Each with a forlorn look on their face, which you knew meant they had some sort of news about Steve. You mumble a, “one second,” then turn back to your locker, finally finding your stupid fucking math book and grabbing it, then you shut and lock your locker and turn fully around to your friends. “What’s up guys?”
“Um, we ah,” Clint starts, but then trails off so Wanda picks up where he left off, “we have something to tell you.”
“Okay?” You say hesitantly, your nerves now slowly rising to an unsettling level.
“Not here,” Nat says then they start to walk away and you fall into step with him. She leads your little conglomerate down the halls then finally outside, and off to a far corner of the field. You suspect it was to get away from all the prying eyes and ears of your classmates. Which only causes your nerves to sky rocket even more due to all the possibilities of where this conversation is going to go. And what you were about to be told.
Your friends all share a hesitant look but then, as per usual, Nat finally pipes up first. She was usually always the one who had to take charge on things like this. As none of your other friends ever seemed to want to be the bearer of bad news. So this was not looking good. At all.
“Okay so, we have been trying to figure out what’s going on with Steve lately, as he isn’t even talking to the guys right now,” she pauses and you nod slowly, showing that you are following along, and for her to continue. “Uh, well Bucky and Sam finally cornered him and forced him to spill, but he didn’t give them much to go on. However,” she pauses again, this time you know it isn’t for your approval to continue, but instead for her to collect herself and find the right words to say next. “Ah, fuck, I don’t really know how to say this, so I’ll just say it,” she takes a deep breath and your stomach drops, “Steve is taking Madeleine to the prom.”
And just like that, the dam breaks and you instantly feel your knees weaken and tears form in your eyes. He’s-he’s what?! You go to say something, anything, but all words seem to have escaped you in this moment. So you just stand there, gaping like a fish out of water at your friends.
After a moment of that, Wanda hesitantly goes to reach out for you, “Y/N?”
“Are you okay?” Clint asks softly through the prominent frown on his lips.
“Please say something,” Nat begs.
“Talk to us,” Hilde pleads.
“I. I uh,” you start then shake your head as the fog finally starts to clear and is now slowly being replaced by pure anger and hurt. “I have something I have to do,” you abruptly spin around and stomp back towards the school. Your friends instantly hot on your heels.
“Y/N, where are you going!?” Nat asks.
“What do you have to do?!” Clint adds.
“I’m going to accept Brock’s invitation,” you say coldly.
“Y/N, just wait a second!” Wanda says, “let’s talk about this first!”
“No!” You spin to glare at them, “no, I’m done waiting. I’m done talking. I have made up my mind.”
“Y/N, you’re just upset. You need to go talk to Steve—“ Hilde starts but you cut her off.
“Fuck that!” You growl, “I have been trying all week to talk to him, and he keeps brushing me off. I’m done trying.” You pause and start to pace, “and furthermore! Why should I have to! I’m not the one being a raging asshole right now. I’m not the one ignoring my, so called, best friend,” you scoff. “If he wants to take Madeleine to the prom, then I hope they have a fucking blast!” You spit the last part, “but I refuse to go to MY prom alone.”
Nat goes to say something but you don’t give her the chance, “I ask that you all support me on this. This is my choice and I need you all to respect that. You’re my friends too, not just Steves, correct?”
They all just frown, but nod.
“Good, okay,” you sigh, releasing a bit of the tension in your shoulders, but not much. “Then I don’t want to hear anymore about this, or him! And I ask that you don’t tell him about me accepting Brock’s invite. If he can’t even talk at me, much less look to me, then he has no right to know what’s going on in my life. Okay?”
“Yeah, okay,” they all say quietly in unison.
“Alright, good,” you nod, relieved that they all agreed to your terms, “thank you, you guys.” Then you turn back around and continue on into the school, in search of Brock. Which luckily for you doesn’t take long, as damn near around the first corner you spot him and his friends and then make a direct path to him. He turns to see you approach and a smirk breaks out on his face.
“Y/N, I was just thinking about you,” he winks.
“Good,” you force a smile at him, “I accept your invitation, that is, if it’s still on the table?”
His smirk grows, “you talked to your dad I take it?” You nod. “Good, good. And of course it’s still on the table. I’ll text you the details later tonight,” he grins at you and you notice his friends all do as well. Which is slightly weird, but you shrug it off as them just being happy for their buddy.
“Perfect,” you nod, “I’ll talk to you later then,” you say as you wave goodbye then head off to math class.
You were still pissed as hell, and more hurt then you cared to admit to, but you also tried to force yourself to be a little excited. Brock may not have been who you had originally wanted to go to prom with, but at least you weren’t going alone. Because showing up alone would have been hard as hell on it’s own, let alone when that’s added to the fact that you’d obviously have to see Steve and Madeleine there. Have to watch them together, dancing and laughing, and having a good time. The thought killed you, but you pushed it down. At least as much as you could, but crushes are a funny beast. The more you try to ignore them and pretend like they don’t exist, the worse they get.
Steve had chosen Madeleine, which broke your heart but maybe, just maybe, this would be the final push your stupid heart needed to realize that you’d never stand a chance with him.
Or, that maybe he just wasn’t the boy you’d always thought he was.
July 2018 - Present.
You shake your head and force yourself to focus back on the present. But the flashback definitely brought up some suppressed emotions, and not just from the weeks leading up to your prom, but also from the years following it. And you are having a very hard time shoving them all back down.
“Fuck you, Brock! You know exactly why I had to ignore her, you piece of shit,” Steve spits and goes to surge forward but you quickly spring into action and jump in between them. Hands raised up to halt Steve from reaching Brock. And even though you’d love nothing more then to watch Brock get his ass handed to him, again, you were all fucking adults here and getting into a fucking bar fight was just ridiculous.
“That’s enough!” You snap as you glare back and forth between the two men, “you’re both acting like fucking assholes right now.”
Steve’s eyes instantly flick from Brock and drop to you, a frown forming on his face as he looks at you. They both go to say something, most likely to defend their stupid childish actions but you aren’t having any of it, so you continue on before they can even so much as utter a word.
“I’m so fucking sick of this shit. Of the lies and secrets,” you glare pointedly at Steve, “And the—well, fucking everything to do with you, actually,” you glare at Brock. “But especially of having to reliving this damn scenario over and over again. We’re fucking adults now guys, we have careers and responsibilities. We can’t just go around getting into bar fights and harassing woman,” you shoot Brock another pointed look, then point at him, “and speaking of which, you have no fucking right to touch me. Let alone be anywhere near me! Now, I’ll speak slowly so you can keep up, since you are obviously a few fries short.”
You take a deep breath, “stay. The hell. Away. From. Me—Did you get all that, or do you need me to say it again?” He glares at you, but nods stiffly. “Good, now piss off,” you shoo him away then turn back to point a finger at Steve now, “and you, your not off the hook just yet. A bar fight Steven, really? You’re a fucking cop now. How would that look to your superiors?”
He goes to speak but you glare at him, “I’m not finished,” you seethe and he snaps his mouth shut and nods, “because regardless of all that other shit, do you wanna know what the worst part of all of this is? It’s the fact that even with all the crap Brock has put me through, he never broke me like you did. Not even close. You were my best friend, Steve, and you just dropped me like I was nothing. Like I meant nothing. Without so much as a fucking word. And that,” you pause to take another deep breath, this one stuttering, “that actually broke me. It took me years to fully get over that. But I still let you waltz right back into my life, without so much as a damn explanation or an apology, and then I just pretended like you hadn’t actually ripped my fucking heart out and stomped all over it,” you shake your head, bitterly. And can now feel the tears welling up in your eyes but you refuse to cry, not here. Not in front of him.
“Y/N—“ Steve says softly as he goes to take a step towards you, but you put your hands up to stop him.
“No, I can’t do this again. Not even a week back and all those damn emotions come right back up. This whole week has been like high school all over again, except the first time around was fucking hard enough. I can’t deal with all of this a second time,” you shake your head, vehemently, “I ah, I’m sorry, I need to go.”
You quickly make your way to the table, ignoring the devastated look on Steve’s face. You grab your things, uttering a quick apology to Nat and Bucky, as they both try to talk to you and stop you from leaving, but you just shake your head, and then hightail it out of the bar.
All you want right now is to be back home in Boston, alone and safe in your cosy little apartment. Instead of being stuck in this stupid town, surrounded by all the same bullshit you ran away from 7 years ago.
You just have to get through this wedding then you can go home, and maybe not come back for another 7 years! Because honestly, at this point, fuck this place. AND damn near everyone in it.
With tears streaming down your face you make your way out into the parking lot and pull out your phone, needing to call your dad for a ride. Which makes a thought instantly pop into your head, and you almost laugh, sardonically at it.
Tonight is fucking prom 2.0.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
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parkaiur · 5 years
Text
Perfection - Jihoon
❀ Comedy + fluff + a dash of angst 
❀ Word count: 6.2 K
❀Being in love with your best friend sucks when they don’t feel the same about you. Once you think you will be pining over him forever, a new boy moves to your school and happens to share all the same classes as you. You start to become entranced with his cute face and fun personality, soon making you forget about the previous boy, or have you?
❀A/N: switching to first pov to see which i like more lol so dont attack me,,,  also im sorry for making these fics so long lsakdjfas idk if ppl like long fics or short fics so some feedback would be nice >.< thank u all for supporting me on my last fic as well ! :D hope u enjoy this one <3
-----
I rode into the school parking lot, rolling my eyes at the loud music playing throughout school. Every Friday morning, the school blared loud music inside and outside the school which I despised. I groaned and parked my car crookedly-- I was a terrible driver. 
“Wow, just another Friday morning.” My next door neighbor, Seunghun grumbled while getting out of the car. We had been neighbors ever since we were kids, and once we hit high school, Seunghun had to start driving me places since he was one year older than me. Of course, now that I was older, we took turns.
“I can’t wait to get out of this place.” I groaned while downing my coffee. I could never function without it. Seunghun patted me on the back. “You still have two years kid. Junior year is the suckiest too but at least it’s almost winter break.” 
I sighed and tried to ignore the rambunctious teenagers that were screaming and dancing to the music. That was just embarrassing. 
“Well, well, well, good morning to you two.” I jumped at the sudden deep voice behind me but my heart jumped when I saw who it was. “Oh, it’s just you.” I joked. Seunghun laughed loudly and poked Hyunsuk teasingly.
“Why do I even bother anymore?” Hyunsuk rolled his eyes playfully while walking next to my side. I felt warm at his close proximity, my face probably turning red as time ticked by. But of course, they were dudes, they didn’t notice. 
Seunghun and I had been friends since we were in diapers, but I’d only thought of him as an older brother figure in my life, and he thought of me as a little sister. Hyunsuk  had transferred to our high school during my freshman year of high school. Hyunsuk and Seunghun were both in dance club and in the same math class-- they immediately clicked. And somehow we all became best friends that told each other everything. 
Except that I had a big fat crush on Hyunsuk.
“School dance tickets are now available at the register! Go get your tickets now!” I saw the president of leadership shout these words through the commons. I tried not to flinch at the volume. Seunghun giggled childishly at my reaction while I pinched his side. “Hey! Don’t hurt me.” He gave me a cute frown which made me resist pinching him again. I knew he could tickle me to death if he wanted to. 
Hyunsuk then smirked and hit Seunghun’s shoulder playfully. “Hey, aren’t you taking Hyemi to the dance?” Seunghun’s demeanor immediately changed from confident to shy. Hyunsuk gripped my shoulder to keep him from laughing out loud. I felt empty when he set his hand down to his side once again. 
“Shut up, I haven’t even asked her yet.” Hyunsuk and I gasped dramatically at Seunghun’s revelation. “Kim Seunghun, the dance is a few Saturdays from today, how dare you!” I faked being shocked while Hyunsuk played along with me. Seunghun rolled his eyes and kept on walking. He was so done my and Hyunsuk’s antics. 
Seunghun then wiggled his eyebrows and punched the other boy on the shoulder. “Enough about me, I heard a little something through the grapevine that Hyunsuk is asking Kyungmi to the winter formal.” 
My heart dropped at the news, but I kept a playful smile on my face. I hoped it wasn’t faltering. “Wait, what? Why haven’t I heard about this?” I punched his shoulder while he cringed at the pain. 
I took a peak at Hyunsuk’s expression which was cheeky and mysterious. He was never the type to get flustered when it came to girls. The older boy adjusted his jacket and wiggled his eyebrows at the both of us. 
“Maybe I am, maybe I’m not.” He said suspiciously while fixing his hair. I felt my hopes getting lower and lower at his statement. Hyunsuk shook his head and slung an arm around my shoulder. I held in my yelp of surprise. 
This is normal, friends do this. Don’t make it weird.
“How about you, y/n? Who are you taking to the winter formal? Any boys been lining up at your door?” I snorted and took his arm off of me so that my heart would stop doing little flip flops.
I took a sip of my coffee and shook my head. “Nope, sorry, I’m the one with the boring love life in this circle.” I tried to not let my voice sound disappointed. I felt Seunghun pinch my cheeks. “Aw, y/n, it’s fine, I’m sure someone will ask you soon.” 
Most juniors and seniors had dates to the winter formal and if you didn’t, you were basically seen as a loser. I was going to be a loser, but honestly I didn’t care about being one. If I wasn’t going with Hyunsuk, I didn’t want a date at all.
“It’s fine, I don’t mind going alone.” Lie. I didn’t want to go at all. I knew Hyunsuk was going to pluck up the courage to ask Kyungmi and I didn’t want to see that happen. Nor did I want to fifth wheel the two of them.
Hyunsuk pouted and looked over at Seunghun. I was scared the two of them were planning something. “Are you sure? We probably have a few guy friends we could set you up with.” I saw his hopeful expression which broke my heart into tiny pieces and I shook my head. “Seriously, it’s fine, I don’t need one and I don’t want one.” My voice came out harsher than expected which made the two boys freeze. I heard the bell ring, meaning we had to now separate and go to class. 
“Truly, I’m not upset about it, just leave it be. I can have fun by myself anyways.” I patted the two of them on the back and scurried to class. 
As I plunked down in my seat for history, I released a sigh of relief. Most days I felt normal around the two of them, but whenever they brought up relationships or dating, I tried to avoid it at all costs. 
I plugged in my earbuds, getting ready to drone out whatever the teacher was saying. I had already read the chapter for this week so my first period was about to become snooze town. 
Before I could turn on my music, I heard a group of girls enter the classroom giggling and laughing about something. I was about to tune them out til I caught a sliver of their conversation.
“No way, he’s going to ask you? Shut up!” 
“Yeah, he just texted me and asked me to meet him after school!” I felt my heart drop as I turned and saw Kyungmi gossiping to her friends. Of course, Hyunsuk already decided to act fast since Kyungmi was one of the prettiest girls in the junior class. 
“Hyunsuk is asking you? I seriously thought he was dating y/n.” A wave of silence washed over the group until I heard a few chuckles.
I felt anxiety creep into my system and I quickly wanted to turn my attention away from the situation. 
“Oh no! They’re just friends. I mean, y/n is a nice girl but...” I heard her whisper the last part. “But I mean, she just isn’t Hyunsuk’s type, you know what I mean?” 
I clicked the play button on my playlist, refusing to let tears fall in this dingy high school classroom.
I dosed off in class, feeling the soft voice of Dean drift me to sleep. Suddenly, I felt someone kick my desk, jolting my eyes open. The teacher pulled out my earbuds which irked me to no ends. I hated when anyone touched my earbuds and I felt the urge to smack my teacher’s hands right then and there. 
“Ah, glad you could join us miss y/n.” I resisted the urge to roll my eyes when I saw an unfamiliar boy staring at me. He had round eyes that had sort of an edge to them, making him seem mischievous yet innocent. He was wearing a white hoodie and blue jeans which made him look good. I couldn’t help he was eye candy. “This, is our new student Park Jihoon.” He smiled at me and I gave my best smile back, which was my most awkward one. 
“Um... cool.” I noted lamely, unaware of the situation. I heard a few giggles throughout the classroom. Mr. Kim kept his anger in. 
He cleared his throat and directed my eyes to Jihoon. “I told Jihoon to sit next to the empty desk next to yours, but unfortunately, you were not awake to hear that. Also, mister Jihoon also happens to have the same schedule as yours, so you’ll automatically be his guide for school. Now, onto the second world war.” My jaw dropped as the teacher nonchalantly told me I had to be the guide for Jihoon.
It’s not like I hated the guy or anything, but being a guide for someone at my school means that I had to basically baby sit him. I had to include him in my friend group, talk with him during class, and make him feel welcome essentially. Usually people had to sign up for it, but I never did. I never liked the hassle. But apparently my luck keeps getting worse and worse as the day went on. 
“Hey,” I heard the boy next to me whisper. I turned to my right and saw Jihoon looking at me with bright eyes. I felt my heart waver at his cute stare. 
“Do you have a pencil I could borrow? I stupidly left mine at home.” He whispered. I nodded and tossed him an extra that he skillfully caught. “Thanks.” 
“No problem.” I whispered back. This time, I didn’t plus my earbuds back in.
-----
Class seemed like it ended sooner than usual. 
“So have you always gone to this high school?” Jihoon nonchalantly started conversation with me, which made me envious of him. I had never been the type to make friends so easily. 
I lowered my head so that he could see my entire face. “Um, yup. Been going to school with basically the same people since elementary school.” His face scrunched up in disgust and I let out a bark of laughter. “Yeah, it’s as horrible as it sounds.” 
I noticed lots girls were staring at the new boy who was standing next to me, a nobody with two hot best friends. I tried to not look at the crowd but it was hard.
“So, math next. Love that subject.” He grit his teeth and pretended to look angry. I let out a small chuckle at his childish antics. I couldn’t help my laughter, he was a funny dude. He gave me a small smile in return. “I hate math too, it’s my worst subject.” He nodded but narrowed his eyes at me. 
“That’s surprising considering you seemed like you were falling asleep throughout our entire history period.” I gasped at his accusation while he rolled his eyes. “Ok, in my defense, I already read the chapter, I don’t need to pay attention. I’m only there ‘cause our ass of a teacher has attendance as 20% of our total grade.” 
Jihoon’s eyes widened while I patted him on the back, a habit I picked up from being around Hyunsuk and Seunghun too often. Jihoon didn’t seem to mine it though. “Yeah, I know, that’s I just sleep in it. He usually doesn’t even care besides today since you showed up.” 
Jihoon shrugged and said nothing else as we walked to our next class. 
---
The day went by quickly and soon it was nearing the last period of the day. 
“Hey, y/n!” I heard Hyunsuk yell my name faintly across the busy hallway. I felt my heart jolt a bit in surprise as I stopped in the hallway. Before I could explain to Jihoon who was yelling my name, he was running at me at full speed. 
Hyunsuk quickly embraced me in a hug, twirling me around. “AAAH HYUNSUK, LEMME DOWN!” I shouted into his ear, yet I couldn’t stop myself from laughing. As Hyunsuk set me down, he locked eyes with Jihoon. “Oh, uh, hey, I’m Hyunsuk, you one of y/n’s friends?” Hyunsuk obnoxiously wiggled his eyebrows which made my mood deflate. I hated when he teased me about other boys, even though I knew it wasn’t his fault he didn’t know my feelings.
Jihoon didn’t tease me but instead laughed and shook Hyunsuk’s hands. “Actually she’s my guide, but I’m sure we’ll be close friends by the end of the day.” Jihoon winked in my direction which made my cheeks turn a bright red. 
Hyunsuk gasped and slapped me on the shoulder. Suddenly, I felt Hyunsuk pull me closer to him protectively. My blush, that was already bright pink, deepened at the contact. “Gasp, the only people y/n is close with is with me and Seunghun, the tall blonde tree over there.” Jihoon peaked over my shoulder to take a look at Seunghun. “Huh, interesting.” Jihoon mumbled.
I felt Hyunsuk’s arms grow looser around my body which made me sigh in relief. Jihoon raised a brow at me but said nothing to my odd behavior. 
“Hyunsuk, over here!” I saw another group of boys calling Hyunsuk over which meant he was leaving me. He gave me a pat on the back and glared at Jihoon before walking away. “I’m watching you boy, no funny business with y/n or else you’ll...” Hyunsuk did the cutting neck motion to which Jihoon responded with raised brows. Hyunsuk ran over to the other guy and molded quickly into the group. He was always really good at fitting in.
I noticed Jihoon was already looking at me when I turned to meet his gaze. “Um, sorry about that, Hyunsuk and Seunghun, the tree, are sort of protective of me. We’ve been friends for a long time now.” I explained to him. Jihoon gave me a soft grin.
He stuffed his hands in his pockets and glanced over to Hyunsuk. “So, does he know that you like him?” I choked on my own spit at his accusation. Wait, what? How did he guess that? 
Lie. You have to lie. “Um, what? I do not like Hyunsuk.” I spat out fake laughter and shook my head nervously. Ok I was a terrible liar. 
Jihoon gave me the look. That look someone gives you when they’re calling you on your bullshit. I sighed and gave in. “Ok, yes, maybe I do have a tiny crush on him but he doesn’t know, and he shall never know, got it?” I glared at the taller boy as he raised his hands in surrender.
“I’ll never tell another living soul, you’re secret is safe with me.” He pretended to zip his lips and throw away the key, making me chuckle in response. 
We walked into our English class together, sitting near the back of the class, where I usually sat. 
Jihoon abruptly turned to me. “Ok.. are you always this angsty? You sit at the back of classroom with your hood up and earbuds in in every single class. You act like you don’t know anything but somehow you answer every question a teacher asks you right.” He moved closer to you. He gently whispered in my ear, “and you fall for your best friend and never risk telling him because hmmm you’re probably too scared to get too close to somebody. What’s your story?” 
I should be getting upset at his mention of my crush, but all I could focus on was how close he was to me. Snap out of it, y/n, your hormones are just whack because all the guys you see are Seunghun and Hyunsuk. Chill. 
I leaned back in my chair, trying to calm my racing heart. His face wasn’t judgmental, but rather curious. “Hm, that’s a loaded question, or questions I guess. I don’t know how to describe my angstyness or where it came from. Also I can’t give you a reason as to why I like who I like and why I choose to hide it besides that it’s embarrassing.” I said the last two words louder and smacked his arm playfully. He laughed and clutched it like he was in pain. 
“Ouchhhh,” He whined and held it out to me. “Kiss it and make it feel better.” He jutted out his plump bottom lip to act cute. I gasped and hit his arm again. 
He, in return, laughed and pulled his arm away. “See, we’re practically best friends now.” He said softly. I had nothing to say because the teacher started class already but I had to admit, he had a way at making my cold facade warm.
------
It was the end of the day, finally, and Jihoon and I parted our separate ways. We exchanged numbers and he made me promise I wouldn’t drop him after the first day. To be honest, I don’t think I could if I tried. 
I walked to the parking lot, my familiar hood up and earbuds in. Even though I expected it, I felt two hands on my shoulder that pushed off of me, making me stop in surprise. I paused my music and took out my earbuds to face an excited Hyunsuk and Seunghun. 
“What-”
They both slung an arm around me, which made me greatly suspicious. “So, boy.”
“Dude.” 
“Guy.”
“Male.” 
“Cute boy.”
“Nice boy.” 
“Funny-”
“Oh would you two shut up?” I shoved them away and walked faster to the car. I heard them both laughing, even though their teasing wasn’t that funny. Especially when I still had feelings for Hyunsuk.
“Aw c’mon, it’s just I’ve never seen you with other guys... or other people besides us... willingly... like ever.” Hyunsuk babbled. Seunghun nodded in agreement. “He’s right. You always keep to yourself, I swear you were never going to make friends with anyone besides us your entire high school career.” Seunghun admit. I rolled my eyes and tried to get in my car. But the two stopped me to question me some more. 
Suddenly, in the corner of my eye, I saw Jihoon walking out, probably walking to his car as well. Somehow, the boy caught my eye and immediately waved and smiled. I didn’t want to be rude so I obviously reciprocated his actions. As he turned away, Seunghun and Hyunsuk looked at me with wide eyes.
“Woaaahhhh that was the nicest I’ve ever seen you act to someone. Are you sure you’re y/n??” Hyunsuk pressed his hand to my forehead which now burned because of his gentle touch. “Hey, you’re actually warm. Are you getting sick?” He stood closer to me and examined my face. I could tell he was worried because of his furrowed brows. 
Before he could think too much into it, I pulled his hand off. “Maybe I’m warm because I’m so angry at you two for being annoying assholes.” I spat and then proceeded to jump into the drivers seat. “Bye, Hyunsuk.” I pulled out of the driveway quickly and ignored Seunghun’s stare.
“Y/n, are you really getting sick? It’s almost Christmas, I don’t want you to miss out on our annual movie marathon.” Seunghun said, concern laced in his voice. Out of the two boys, I was closer to Seunghun. Yes, I loved Hyunsuk as much as I loved Seunghun, but Seunghun and I had a history together. He got me and I got him. It was painful to keep this secret from him, but knowing Seunghun, he would tell Hyunsuk immediately, not to be a prick, but because he would think it was the right thing to do. And I could never let Hyunsuk know how I feel about him. Ever.
I slapped his hand away playfully. “Shut up, it’s like a month to Christmas, I’ll be fine by then even if I am getting sick. And if I am getting sick, it’s because you two had the smart idea to have a water balloon fight in the middle of December.” Seunghun burst into laughter at the memory. I couldn’t help myself chuckle as well.
“You’re right, I take full responsibility along with Hyunsuk. We will cater to your needs if you do get sick.” He pretended to bow and I just shoved him away. Bantering with him like this felt normal, and I liked normal.
-----
Normal did not last long. 
I curled up in my bed, reading to read a trilogy I had been looking forward to getting into during the week. I felt my bed vibrate which signaled that I got a text. 
As I saw who the text was from, my eyes widened. “What the heck.” I whispered to myself, praying my parents didn’t hear me having a mental breakdown at 11pm. I took a deep breath and opened the text.
‘what’s fun to do around here? i’m dying of boredom x_x’ I chuckled at the use of his self-made emoji. He even texted cute. 
I waited a few seconds to not make me seem eager and replied ‘um... read a book?’ 
He read it. My heart was pounding. ‘... r u joking?’
I tried to conceal my laughter. ‘no... that’s what im doing right now’
‘wow... how sexy’ This time, I couldn’t help the giggles that flew from my mouth. Hopefully my parents were in deep slumber. ‘too strong?’ He texted back quickly.
‘no, you have the same humor as seunghun and hyunsuk tho lol’ 
‘wow the same humor as your two besties ,, im flattered’
‘is that sarcasm i detect?’
‘no sarcasm here captain’
I chuckled at his cute humor. I couldn’t help but feel like I’ve known this guy for years, yet I just met him yesterday. 
Suddenly, I saw those three dots appear. I gulped in anticipation. ‘are you ok?’ he texted randomly. I furrowed my brows in confusion.
‘why wouldnt i be?’
‘... you know...’
‘???’
‘... hyunsuk asked kyungmi to the dance.’ he deadpanned. Somehow, that thought had completely left my mind. And for some odd reason, I didn’t feel all too upset about it anymore. 
Fuck, that’s going on? You like Hyunsuk. You should be feeling upset. 
‘oh yeah, im fine, ill get over it tbh’
He read my message, but took a little longer to respond. I grew nervous at his next words. 
‘can i call you?’
Suddenly, my conscious just flew out the window. “What the... shoot what do I do?” I whispered to myself. It wasn’t like I didn’t want to call him, or that I was weirded out by it, but because I was nervous. 
“Fuck it.”
‘sure’ I waited for him to read the text. I heard my phone ring and I immediately picked it up so my parents wouldn’t hear. 
“Hi.” He said. His voice was deeper than usual and I heard lots rustling, meaning he was probably in bed. 
“Hey.” I replied back lamely. I had never really done the phone call thing. Seunghun lived right next door to me, so if he wanted to talk, then he would just pop over. Hyunsuk would just drive to one of our houses and force us to hang out with him. I guess I’d never experienced a normal high school friendship.
“So...” He trailed off. I held in my laugh. It seemed like everything he said was funny to me. “So...” I trailed off as well. 
“What are you wearing right now?” His voice dropped a few octaves, but his tone made me burst out into laughter. I covered my mouth quickly. 
“What the fuck, Jihoon??” I whispered hurriedly. I heard him holding in his laughter as well. “Sorry, it was an innocent question.” He joked.
There was a moment of silence for a second. “Polar bear pajamas.” I finally answered. 
“I’m wearing my boxers.” I spat out laughter at his truthful response. “What? Guys don’t really sleep in lots of clothes.” I covered my face, trying to not imagine what he looked like. 
“You’re an idiot, Jihoon. But, I need to hang up because you’re making me laugh too hard and my parents are in the room next to me.” I said truthfully. I heard him whine over the phone and I couldn’t almost visualize a pout.
“Then why did you agree to call in the first place?” He whined. “Because, I was curious on what you had to say.” I said truthfully. 
He paused for a moment, probably trying to soak in my words. “Good point. But, ok, I’ll let you go then so your parents don’t hunt me down for making their daughter laugh.” I bit my lip, hiding a smile at the declaration. 
“Goodnight.” He whispered softly. 
“Goodnight, Jihoon.” I waited a few moments til I hung up the phone, setting it on my counter.
What am I doing? I like Hyunsuk.
-----
I admit, I was a bit nervous to see Jihoon on Monday again. After our talk on Saturday, I felt like we got closer. I’d never bonded with anyone so fast before, well besides Seunghun and Hyunsuk. 
I sat down in our history class and listened to music. I felt a tug on my shoulder, which made my eyes shoot open. I was glad he didn’t tug out my earbuds as most people did. I paused my music and set down my phone.
He was wearing an oversized sweater with dark jeans. His hair was styled today and framed his face nicely. “Hey.” He smiled at me. I noticed how his teeth were perfectly straight, meaning he probably just got his braces off. How cute.
“Hey, you do the history reading?” I started the conversation to show I was friendly. He leaned his backpack against his desk and organized all his things on his desk. He narrowed his eyes at me while I chuckled. “What do you think? I was too busy chatting up pretty girls on the weekend.” For some odd reason, I felt my heart sink at that statement.
He was texting other girls besides me? I crinkled my nose awkwardly, a habit I had when I was uncomfortable. 
“For the record, the only girl I texted over the weekend as you." I looked into his eyes and saw his eyes softly gaze into mine. His brown eyes looked so doe-like that I wanted to reach over and kiss his cheeks. 
Jihoon then switched gears and gave me a goofy smirk to show he was kidding. My nerves died down at his teasing. “Shut up. I’m sure you tell that to all the girls you text.” I fibbed nervously. Jihoon didn’t take his gaze off me when he shook his head. “Think what you want, y/n, but one day you’ll fall for my charms.” He gave me a shy smile that contradicted his confident words. 
"Hyunsuk! Stop, just go to class!” The high pitched voice caught my attention with the name of my best friend. I took a look to the door and saw Kyungmi coming in, with Hyunsuk backhugging her. I felt my heart clench as I saw the two together. I knew they had been somewhat “official” after Hyunsuk asked her to the dance and she accepted, but it still felt weird and upsetting.
I felt my mood deflate when looking at them and it was obvious. “Hey.” I heard a faint whisper to my right. I pulled my strong gaze away from the two lovebirds who were laughing loudly and sharing intimate eye contact. Jihoon had his brows furrowed and concerned looking. 
“Yeah?” I whispered. I hated people pitying me and tried to play off my sadness as fatigue. Jihoon didn’t fall for it. Instead of speaking, he took my hand and gave it a light squeeze. Usually I hated when people touched me without my permissions... or at all. But with him, it felt normal.
Hyunsuk barely spared me a glance when he was with Kyungmi although he knew my schedule to a T. Or at least I thought he did. I tried to catch his eye, but it was no use.
“Why do you even like him?” Jihoon mumbled close to my ear, so that no one could hear it. I scoffed at the question. What was there not to like? Hyunsuk is attractive, athletic, a good rapper and dancer, funny, kind...he was basically perfect.
I didn’t realize I said those attributes outloud until Jihoon leaned back in his chair in annoyance. “Well, that’s not what I asked. Why do YOU like him?” 
“I just told you.” I spat. Jihoon shook his head slightly and pulled his hood up, copying my style. 
“Sure you did.” 
I opened my mouth to he meant by that, but before I could say anything, the teacher started spewing fact about the Korean War, making me lose my chance. 
-----
A couple weeks had passed and soon the winter formal was right around the corner. 
Jihoon and I were chilling in my living room, watching Infinity War as we ate pizza. I had grown close to the boy and found myself hanging out with him more than I hung out with Seunghun and Hyunsuk. Which they complained about constantly, but I couldn’t help if I hated seeing Hyunsuk and Kyungmi or hearing talk about her. It was a constant reminder that I wasn’t his to talk about.
“I feel like Dr. Strange is the most underrated of them all. Like deadass the man saw a gajillion outcomes of the future where they all died... what a traumatic experience.” Jihoon mumbled while stuffing a pizza into his mouth. I nodded in agreement.
“You right, bro. I would legit die if I saw myself die.” Jihoon paused at my dumb statement but just threw a piece of popcorn at me. 
By the end of the movie, we were sobbing into our blankets while the boxes of pizza were strewn everywhere. Jihoon grabbed the tissue box and wiped his tears. I felt him dab my tears politely which made me laugh. 
“Hey, at least you’re a pretty crier, some of us are less fortunate.” He joked while wiping his tears. He paused the movie so we could compose ourselves and mourn over the multiple losses. I threw my tissue at him. “Shut up, everyone is an ugly crier.” 
“Nah, I mean, you’re pretty so that’s why you’re a pretty crier.” I felt him lean closer to me which made me feel nervous. “I’m not even pretty.” I mumbled. Honestly, I didn’t feel like I was stunning but I wasn’t ugly. I could be looked at for more than 5 seconds without pure disgust but it’s not like I was drop dead gorgeous.
“Hm, that’s debatable.” I heard his voice drop into a low whisper and suddenly he was leaning in. My heart beat picked up and goosebumps formed on my arms. Out of instinct, I backed away.
Immediately, I regretted it after seeing the dejected look on his face. “Jihoon, I’m sorry I just.” I sighed in panic. “I just still like Hyunsuk.” I whispered. I saw him turn away in sadness which broke my heart. 
I thought we were going to sit in silence the entire time until he turned to me with slight anger in his eyes. “Or so you think.” He mumbled. He turned to stand and walk out. I furrowed my brows in confusion. I shot up from my seat and followed him to the door, thankfully, he didn’t make it too far. 
“Woah woah woah, what do you mean by that?” I demanded. “Of course I like Hyunsuk, he’s like...”
Jihoon turned to face me and scoffed. “Let me guess perfect?” 
Suddenly, with great timing, my door flew open.
“HO HO HO ! DID SOMEONE NOT INVITE US TO THE PARTY?” Before I could comprehend what was happening, Seunghun ran at me and scooped me into his arms. 
Hyunsuk plopped on the other side of Jihoon and slung an arm around him. “Hey, is this your first date or something, sorry to intrude.” Hyunsuk wiggled his eyebrows and nudged Jihoon slightly.
Jihoon forced a smile and shrugged. “Nah man, we’re just friends.” For some reason, I felt my heart deflate at that statement even though I just turned him down a few seconds ago.
Seriously, what’s wrong with me?
Hyunsuk ‘awwed’ at Jihoon and pinched his cheeks to where Jihoon ignored him. Jihoon still stared intensely at me like there wasn’t even anyone around us. 
His arms were crossed across his chest and his breathing was heavy. 
I assume Seunghun and Hyunsuk realized the situation and took a few steps back. Jihoon finally released some stress in his body and took a few steps to the door.
“Just.. Just call me when you’re ready to be real with your feelings.” Jihoon smoothly slipped on his shoes and opened the door. He gave me one last final look before shutting it softly which matched the shattering of me heart as well.
Seunghun, Hyunsuk, and I stood in silence at the awkwardness that rose from Jihoon’s farewell. I reached up to touch my face, realizing that it was wet with my tears. At the sight of them, I only broke down harder. 
“Hey, it’s gonna be-” I stepped away from Hyunsuk’s hug and held out my hands to distance myself. 
“Can you guys just go? I don’t wanna see anyone right now.” I felt my voice break on the last note and tried to hold in my tears. At first, I didn’t think they were going to leave, but I felt Seunghun pat my back before hearing the door shut, leaving me alone to deal with my thoughts and insecurities.
------
It was finally the winter formal. 
Yay. 
It was five pm and the dance started at nine. I wasn’t going though. 
I pulled the covers over my head and drowned out my sorrows with silence.
I had thought long and hard about Jihoon’s words, wondering what he meant. I liked Hyunsuk still... 
but did I really ? 
And what do I feel about Jihoon? 
Do I even care about who Hyunsuk dates anymore? 
I mean, I was staying inside crying over Jihoon and not even thinking to remember Hyunsuk and Kyungmi. I groaned and hit myself in the face with a pillow.
As I was laying still in my bed, I heard a knock on my door. I raised a brow as my parents knew not to bother me when I was in my room. “Are you decent?” 
I held in my eye roll as I recognized the voice. “Define decent.” I snapped back. The door opened, revealing a very dapper looking Seunghun and Hyunsuk. Suddenly I felt like a loser next to them. I buried my face in my pillows again. I heard Hyunsuk chuckle and suddenly the both of them were sitting on my bed, patting my back. “What are you guys doing here?” I mumbled.
“Where else would we be when our best friend is here, dying in her room?” Seunghun knocked my head gently with his fist, something he always did to me when I was a kid. My eyes swelled with tears at their kindness. I really didn’t deserve friends like them.
“Now, since we are here...” Seunghun started.
“Would you tell us what you’ve been hiding for so long? You’ve been acting so distance and out of it... it’s obvious y/n. Just talk to us normally, we’re your best friends. We will understand no matter what.” Hyunsuk finally said. I could tell when he was frustrated as Hyunsuk could never hide his emotions. 
“Yeah, what happened to the truth and nothing but the truth y/n?” There was a teasing tone in Seunghun’s words, but I could tell he was upset at me too, which made me feel like a bigger jerk.
Which is why I had to man up and tell them the truth.
“Fine.” I sat up from my bed and closed my eyes. Here goes nothing.
“So, basically, I had a crush on this dude. Who is not important. Anyways, Jihoon found out and I told him to hide it and he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. Long story short, I’m pretty sure Jihoon likes me and I am very, very confused on what I feel about him as I don’t know if I still like this dude. And also, I don’t really know what I like about the dude without what’s on the surface. And I guess I am losing romantic feelings for the dude as well. And with Jihoon, I feel so comfortable around him. Like everything is so natural and yeah I don’t know I hate myself.” I ranted before throwing my face down back on a pillow.
The two boys were silent for a moment until bursting into laughter. I lifted my head in confusion.
They both patted my backs and headed for the door.
“W-what? Where are you guys going?” 
Seunghun walked out first and gave me a shrug. As Hyunsuk turned to shut the door, he gave me a knowing smile. 
“Y/n, it’s obvious. I think you know what to do.”
Before I got a chance to say anything, Hyunsuk slammed the door in my face.
I sat there in a daze for a few short moments until I came to the realization. 
“Fuck I have to go talk to Jihoon.”
-----
I reached for my phone in a rush and texted him.
‘hey um, what r u doing right now?’ I texted off quickly before I lost my confidence. 
My hands were shaking in anticipation as I saw him typing. 
‘im getting ready to go to dinner before the formal’
I felt my heart drop at his response. I lost my chance... great. 
‘why?’ he texted back. 
‘just wondering,, have fun at the winter formal’ 
‘thanks’
A one word response, that meant he wanted the conversation to end. I set down my phone with a deflated ego. 
He already had a date. I guess he didn’t like me as much as I thought.
I sunk down in my bed and flopped over in my bed. I wasn’t the girl boys fought for, I was the girl you looked over, the girl you didn’t want.
I laid in silence to wallow in my self pity until I heard my doorbell ring. I groaned, thinking it was Hyunsuk and Seunghun coming to tease me again. I waddled down the stairs with a huge blanket wrapped around my arms. I flung open the door, ready to tell the boys to go away.
I was in great surprise when I saw Jihoon staring back at me instead of the two older boys. 
My eyes widened in surprise as he was dressed in normal clothes but I could tell his hair was styled and he put on cologne. 
“Hey.” His hands were in his pockets and his stance was really casual. 
“Um, h-hi.” I stuttered out. Obviously I was more nervous than him. He gave me one of his familiar smiles. “Can I come in?” I nodded and shuffled out of the way for him to enter my house. 
“I thought you were going to the dance.” I whispered, as if he wasn’t real. Humor danced through his eyes as he shrugged. 
“Nah, I sort of lied.” I raised my eyes in surprise. 
“Um, why would you do that?” 
“So I could do this.” 
Suddenly, he leaned down and captured my lips with his. The kiss was soft and sweet, yet passionate; it was everything I had imagined Jihoon would kiss like and more. His hands were gentle on the back of my neck and my hands moved to hold the belt loops on his pants. 
I heard him sigh as he pulled me closer. I could feel my heart racing faster at the close proximity. When Jihoon pulled away, I felt like I was missing something.
“Hm, just like I imagined. You’re so perfect.” He whispered closely to my ear. 
I shook my head shyly before pulling him down for another kiss. He was surprised at my action but melted into it.
“No, you’re the one who’s perfect for me. Not Hyunsuk or anyone else. 
Just you.”
582 notes · View notes
lunarity2013 · 5 years
Text
OC Details: Lucy Stone
So, I figured it was high time I told you guys about my Hogwarts Mystery OC! I got most of these questions on here from @thewasp1995 (Go check out his OC David, btw, it’s super detailed and so cool!) I really hope you guys enjoy!
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Name: Lucille Maria Stone
DOB: October 16, 1972 (turned 12 during her first year)
Parents: Candace and Sean Stone
Siblings: Nathan Samson Stone (oldest, 9-year age difference, Ravenclaw), Casey Andrew Stone (youngest, 6-year age difference, muggle)
Nationality: Irish
Ancestry: Muggleborn
House: Hufflepuff
Height: as of Year 4, she's 5'1". She doesn't get much taller until after graduation, stopping at about 5’3” by age 25
Eyes: large, round, dark brown
Hair: waist length, light brown, wavy
Sexuality: Demisexual, hetero-leaning
Likes: reading, writing, singing, helping others, cheering her friends on, card games, charms, astronomy, ancient runes, nifflers, cats
Dislikes: being the center of attention, hurting people, fighting, doctor’s offices, spiders, clowns, being betrayed, baking (she’s bad at it)
Friends: Rowan (best friend), Ben (best friend), Penny (surrogate sister), Charlie (competitive best friend), Bill (surrogate brother), Tonks (good friend), Barnaby (crush), Tulip (good friend), Andre (friend)
Enemies: Merula (formerly), Ismelda (thinks her constant threats are a big red flag), Rakepick (evil), Snape (his decision), Nathan (depending on the game's ending)
Neutral: Skye (she helps tutor her), Talbott (more Penny’s friend, but she enjoys seeing him), Merula (after finding Nathan), Liz (Barnaby and Charlie's good friend), Murphy (he's cool)
*Badeea, Jae, Diego, and others to be decided at a later date, after I actually meet them in-game*
Love Interest: Barnaby Lee
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Strengths/Weaknesses/Hobbies: 
Positive traits: honest | trustworthy | thoughtful | caring | brave | patient | selfless | ambitious | tolerant | lucky | intelligent | confident | focused  | humble | generous | merciful | observant | wise | clever | charming | cheerful | optimistic | decisive | adaptive | calm | protective | proud | diligent | considerate | compassionate | good sportsmanship | friendly | empathetic | passionate | reliable | resourceful | sensible | sincere | witty |funny
Negative Traits: moody | short-tempered | emotionally unstable | whiny | controlling | conceited | possessive | paranoid | lies | impatient | cowardly | bitter | selfish | power - hungry | greedy | lazy | judgmental | forgetful | impulsive | spiteful | stubborn | sadistic | masochistic | petty | unlucky | absent-minded | abusive | addict | aggressive | childish | callous | clingy | delusional | cocky | competitive | corrupt | cynical | cruel | depressed | deranged | egotistical | envious | insecure | insensitive | lustful | delinquent | guilt complex | reclusive | reckless | nervous | oversensitive | rebellious
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What’s their personal philosophy?  Do they even have one?
For much of the earlier portion of her life, Lucy’s motto would be “do unto others and you would have them do unto you”. Up until about the time Rakepick shows up, and Ben’s secret-keeping, and just the all-around mess that her life becomes when the Vaults come into question, this is what she lives by. After about Year 4? It shifts a bit, focusing her own values and energy towards protecting her loved ones and innocent people from those who would cause harm, and doing whatever necessary to stop them. And after finding Nathan, she begins to include him in the latter.
How do they feel about their status and reputation as the curse-breaker in the school?
Lucy was never one for the spotlight, even as a little kid. She was content for years to simply look up to her older brother in his successes, and then later to help her parents with her baby brother, showering him with love and attention. Actively searching for the Vaults, and subsequently breaking the curses within, was only part of her plan to try and find some closure as to her brother’s disappearance (something she has convinced herself he was merely a victim of and not an active participant, to save herself grief of her brother not being what she thought). She doesn’t like having so many eyes on her, especially for something she knows is dangerous and putting herself and her friends in harm’s way. But every time she tries to back out and leave it be, she gets dragged back in.
Did they get sorted into the Hogwarts House they expected to?  Did the Sorting Hat have any problems sorting them?  Or did it not even have to touch their head?
Before Nathan’s disappearance, she would have loved to consider herself lucky enough to be a witch, let alone be sorted into her brother’s house. After his disappearance, however, she had mixed feelings about the idea of sharing his crest and colors, and possibly having more eyes on her than before. Her values lined up differently than his, however, and the Sorting Hat gave her an out in the form of Hufflepuff house. She was still a little disappointed by being so far from her brother’s life there, but years later, she’d swear up and down that being put in the house of fairness, honesty, and loyalty is where she truly belonged.
What’s their personal style?
Lucy wears a lot of early Autumn colors, usually. Lots of oranges, yellows, browns, and olive greens are kind of signature to her style. She typically wears things that make her feel cute and kind of kid-like, so over-large sweaters with skirts or overall shorts and dresses with print tops (floral or stripes, typically). She usually pairs both with comfortable boots and long socks. She wears her hair down most of the time, except when actively exploring the Vaults and when studying for final exams.When it gets cold, she’ll sometimes “borrow” sweaters from her friends to stay warm (usually Bill and Barnaby).
What are their coping strategies for dealing with everything (the Vaults, Jacob, etc.), if they have any?
Lucy has terrible coping mechanisms for her problems, unfortunately. She convinced herself early on that her brother had probably been killed by the Cursed Vaults while trying to help protect others from the curses, and is thus even more broken up when she eventually does find him and sees what kind of person he’s really become. She tries at the start of every year to ignore the signs of another Vault opening, just trying to live a normal, Hogwarts-student life, only to be dragged into it when people have already been attacked or hurt. After the incident with the dragon and Rakepick, she tries to close herself off, thinking it’s because they’re so close to her that her friends keep getting hurt. It doesn’t work, and her friends end up finding her and hugging her as she cries about everything that seems to go wrong with her life.
What electives do they take throughout their time at Hogwarts?
If she could, she would take every class available because it was so hard to choose just a few! In the end, however, she settled on Care of Magical Creatures, Divination, and Ancient Runes, because Alchemy was only for 7th years, and Arithmancy was “just magic math”. Muggle Studies was almost chosen instead of Divination, but Luc decided she wanted something a little more challenging. (She didn’t realize her patience was what would be tested lol).
Are they in any clubs or extracurricular activities?  What about Quidditch?
It’s really hard to find time to do extracurriculars when you’re trying to protect people from being frozen in ice blocks or sleep-walking into an acromantula nest. She did join the Frog Choir after third year, though unfortunately drops out between 5th-6th year to focus on her studies (and the Vaults). She occasionally goes to the music club, though is not an official member. Unfortunately, Lucy may be a decent flyer, but isn’t quite cut out for Quidditch. Besides, she’d rather be in the stands (huddled and warm) while watching her friends play instead. Sometimes she’ll help Madame Pomfrey with healing students in the Hospital Wing, but the smell of the potions and medicines reminds her of the doctor’s office, so she wouldn’t ever do it for a living.
How studious are they?  What kind of studying strategies do they use?  Do they have any study groups with their friends?
Lucy is a stickler for good note-taking, bringing a bunch of spiral notebooks and colored gel pens and highlighters with her every year to take “proper” notes to share with her friends during their weekly study sessions. She and Rowan usually lead for most classes, though Penny takes charge for Potions, Ben (and Rowan and Bill, sometimes) lead for Charms, and Charlie and Barnaby for Care of Magical Creatures. Lucy, Rowan, and Bill sometimes help some of the younger students set up study groups as well, and often let the younger Weasley siblings and Cedric join their sessions, too. Liz doesn’t always study with them, but will when she needs to, Tulip and Tonks only show up when forced or bribed, and Skye was wrangled into coming once, but got everyone off task getting into a trash-talk showdown with Andre over the Gryffindor v. Ravenclaw game the following day; everyone else either has a different group to study with or refuses to do so entirely.
How willing are they when it comes to breaking school rules?
Lucy hates getting in trouble, since it’s being put under a spotlight in a more negative context for her. The first three years of school, she tries whatever she can to avoid breaking the rules when possible. After the Fear Vault is closed, however, she starts loosening up a little bit. She still doesn’t like to break the rules, but she’ll do it with less coercing, and gets even sneakier to get away with it.
Do they hang out with any of their friends over breaks?  If so, which one(s) and what do they do?
Living all the way out in Ireland, just outside of Dublin, it’s a bit harder to get to visit her friends before she heads into London for her school shopping at the end of summer holiday. Charlie and Bill make use of the fireplace to invite her over for dinner a few times during the break, flooing her there and back without much hassle. She makes time to spend with Rowan specifically during the summer, inviting her over to spend a week or so every year, and Rowan inviting her for the same amount at her house right after. She gets an owl (a cooky brown owl that her little brother named Bernard) for her family to send her mail during the year, and uses him herself to keep in touch with the rest of her friends until September rolls around again.
After they graduate, do they fall off the map and keep a low profile?  Or do they continue to exist in the public eye?
After deciding very early on that she didn’t much care for being the center of attention, once she had the opportunity to fade into obscurity, she took it. She eventually married Barnaby and moved with him to Romania, where he and Charlie work together with dragons. Lucy decides a little later on to document some of her childhood, but feeling awkward about writing her own life story down, changes the names and some of the details to instead create a fictional book series for kids. It later gets published under a pseudonym and achieves moderate success in both the muggle and magical worlds.
How does their career path differ from what they thought they’d be doing?  Or does it differ at all?
It took Lucy her entire life to figure out what she wanted to do. At Hogwarts, when asked what career path she wanted to pursue, she was so shocked that she asked if she could “just go back to bed”. She decided to take whatever classes could be most broadly considered for a number of professions, and even then wasn’t quite sure what she wanted to do once she left Hogwarts. She decided to handle her personal life first, cheering her friends on as they found their paths, and then going with Barnaby so he could achieve his dream. It was only later, after beginning to just write things down, that she realized how much she enjoyed doing it.
Do they have any hobbies?  What about any talents or aptitudes?
She loves taking some time to just goof off with her friends, playing Gobstones or getting some Butterbeer at the Three Broomsticks. She’ll spend some gloomy weekends curled up in a big armchair in the library, quietly reading to herself (and later, helping Barnaby with his dyslexia). She’s also a major card shark, winning almost every muggle card game she’s ever played and often tricking her friends into playing with her and losing anything from candy to wizard cards to even money, on occasion. She’s particularly good in Charms class, as well as Astronomy and Ancient Runes.
Do they have any favorite spells?
She likes spells that can used to help others, like Episkey or Protego. She has a certain fondness for Expecto Patronum, of course. She also likes using Lumos, to light up her bed behind the curtains after a bad nightmare.
What’s one thing they did or thought as a child that they later look back and cringe about?
Long after she and Barnaby finally get together, they both end up hearing about the bets their friends placed on their relationship and how lovesick they apparently acted before asking each other out. Tonks and Tulip will sometimes act out their mutual pining at lunch or at the Three Broomsticks, leaving both of them flustered and cringing over just how insufferable they must've been before they realized their feelings were returned. If she could go back and do it over, she might almost be tempted to have just kissed Barnaby at the Celestial Ball and avoided the whole mess. Almost.
If they could travel anywhere at all in the world—money, time, and language not being an issue—where would they go and who would they take with them?
It's a tough choice between some very good options, travelling to historical landmarks across the globe with Rowan, getting tasty food in Paris with Penny, or taking her family for a nice, normal vacation to Disney in the States. But eventually, she'd probably decide on travelling the world looking for various beasts and creatures with Barnaby, and writing about their adventures.
If they’re an Animagus, how easy was becoming one for them?  Were they happy with their Animagus form?  Or did they want it to be something different?
Lucy studied up on being an animagus with Talbott while at Hogwarts, but couldn't bring herself to actually become one until after graduation. She remains an unregistered sparrow animagus even after Voldemort is finally defeated. She would've liked to be maybe some kind of cat, but can't deny that being so small and being able to fly are some great advantages when the second war rolls around.
Do they like what they see in the mirror?
Had it not been for her magical abilities making themselves known as she grew up, she might've gone through all of primary school unnoticed. As it was, kids often ostracized and ridiculed her for being weird and different until she finally went to Hogwarts. Between that and the guilt she carries for everyone that gets hurt by the Vaults, it takes her a very long time to come to terms with herself and her self-worth.
How good are they at taking compliments?
Lucy is pretty decent at taking compliments, so long as it's not a bunch all at one time; she gets anxious when too many people try and talk to her at once. When Barnaby compliments her, though, she gets flustered and stumbles over her words while blushing really bright, almost blocking out her freckles.
How much do they trust their friends?
Lucy trusts those she keeps close to an almost impossible degree. It can sometimes lead her to trouble, such as leaving her vulnerable to pranks by Tonks or Tulip.
Are they pretty self-reliant?  Or do they like to go to their friends for help?
At first, she's much more willing to do things as a group, having her friends' backs as much as they have hers. Later on, however, she begins closing herself off, trying to take on everything herself to avoid her friends getting hurt because of her. It doesn't last very long, however, as they all work better as a team.
Who is their favorite Weasley?  Or can they not choose?
Ginny and Ron are just too cute, from what little she's seen of them. Bill is like another older brother, and she loves him dearly. She and Charlie are great friends, but anything and everything becomes a competition with them, starting with a "who knows more about dragons" contest that she actually won in their 2nd year. They could almost have been considered rivals up until later on in Year 4. Percy is alright, she Guesses, but even she thinks he needs to loosen up a bit. And she spends most of her time trying to just keep the twins separated from Tonks and Tulip, if only to avoid the Apocalypse.
What’s the thing they like least about themselves?
She's a little stuffy about rules, she worries too much, her actions and choices keep putting people in danger, and FFS, she faced a DRAGON and still can't kill one measly little spider??
What’s the thing they like most about themselves?
She cares about her friends and family, she would never go out of her way to betray them or to hurt others. She takes pride in the lives she's helped and saved.
How bad is their temper?  Do they tend to lash out at others or themselves?
Her temper only gets really out of hand when someone she cares about gets hurt. She can usually handle someone hurting her with nothing more than a few years, but attack the people she cares about? That'll be the last thing you ever do.
What’s their biggest regret in life, if they have any?
She blames herself for far too many things. She wishes Ben hadn't been hurt and controlled by Rakepick, she thinks she could've done more to help and support him. She feels like if she had been more observant as a kid, she might've seen something going on with Nathan and could've stopped his disappearance. She's terrified about how the two of them being so involved in the Cursed Vaults with effect Casey as he grows up, and if he'll end up inheriting their legacy or not, if it might get him killed.
What kind of first impression do they tend to leave on others?
Lucy is sweet, doe-eyed, and a little naïve. A pretty face, very smart, but very open and trusting. Would apologize to you if you poured soup into her lap. Most would either want to protect the sweet, innocent child or absolutely take advantage of her trusting and kind nature.
What is the achievement they’re most proud of?
She once managed to eat an entire tin of her mom's homemade butter cookies without vomiting (her mom isn't a very good cook, and definitely can't bake). But now she's expected to eat at least some every time her mom bakes them when she's home. (Just another advantage to being away at a boarding school most of the year).
Do they like having photos taken of themselves?
She's a little camera shy, depending on who she's with; any groups larger than maybe 5 and she'll try to duck around and take the picture herself instead. But small groups, she can handle it. And she'll take any photo with Tonks, so long as she changes something about her appearance to take the main attention off of her.
What’s one big way that your MC differs from the in-game canon?
Lucy does not like searching for the Vaults. She would have been content with maybe a few of his journals and an official, personal explanation from Dumbledore. Sh didn't need this. She doesn't want to be the one fixing this, but apparently no one else knows how or cares to try, so she feels responsible. She's also not in the same house as her brother.
If they’re an Animagus, why did you choose the form for them that you did?
Lucy becomes an animagus much later than in canon. She becomes one right before the 2nd war, in order to evade detection. She becomes a little sparrow bird, small and common enough to escape notice. I chose it because of its relation to the second Fable game, whose protagonist is named "Sparrow".
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So, I hope ya’ll enjoyed! Let me know if any of you have any more questions!
(Edit: I am so sorry about the picture formatting, I know its hideous, but I have somehow lost the ability to use my mobile app to fix it (no fucking signal, my ass) but I promise I will try again tomorrow, when I am far away from the lack of signal at my house.)
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