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marky4l · 3 years

Text

Step by Step / Mark Lee

step by step / mkl

pairing: Mark Lee x Reader

From an innocent childhood friendship to a juvenile high school rivalry to a forced pairing for a Psychology paper, it seems you and Mark just can’t avoid each other. But something’s a little different now.

genre: fluff, angst (a little bit), suggestive themes, childhood friends (barely mentioned!) to enemies to lovers, college!au

notes: lia yeonjun chan hyuck jeno all make tiny appearances

word count: 17.2k

hi!!! this is my first work nd I’m really excited to put this out I’d looove if you could give it a read :^) hound me on my inbox if u wanna i take anything

“Remember when we were best friends in fifth grade?”

His voice is a little quiet, and there’s a very obvious undertone of boredom, but you hum softly anyway, nodding, as if to question why you would ever forget. Fifth grade was a suburban brew of Star Wars marathons, figuring out the world, and Harry Potter merchandise littering your house. Fifth grade was lemonade and oatmeal, knitted sweaters, and sneaking into your mom’s vanity to swipe her makeup. And fifth grade was Mark—bright eyed, geeky Mark, with his Death Star replica and weird electronica music.

Mark, who had an affinity with Troy from High School Musical and Spiderman, and wanted to be just like them. Mark, who would show up grinning to your front door everyday, pie dish in his nimble grip. He was the one who had opened a lemonade stand at the corner of your block so he could buy you the Gryffindor scarf you’d been nagging your mom about the entire holiday season. He was the one who learned the chords to your favorite Jonas Brothers song and sang it to you each time you requested it.

“Yes, I do,” you answer instead, clearing your throat.

You attempt to push down all the memories that just ran through your head and adjust the grip you have on your pen. “Well,” Mark continues, “that was ages ago. Beats me why it ever happened.”

The timidity is replaced with a tidal wave of teasing, and the annoyance that had disappeared is beginning to crawl all over you. Again. You roll your eyes and pull up the slides your professor had assigned. “Beats me why we even ended up in the same university, let alone the same class,” you jab, “if you thought I forgot about how you outright failed our Spanish classes in high school, I didn’t.”

Your friendship with Mark had reached its unfortunate demise to the hands of middle school, where you had branched out with your interests and began to stick to societal (as societal as school can get) norms. He had joined the geeky, cool kids; you hadn’t joined a specific social circle, but you had a best friend, Lia, and you were generally good with everybody.

Somehow, despite you both being in good graces with everyone, you had a deep-seated dislike for one another that stemmed from an intense academic rivalry. Specifically, the competition to become school council president. That had ended now, seeing as though you were both in college, but the abrasiveness of your banter had never worn off.

“Oh, because you were so good at Physics?” he says, voice even. His brow is raised. “We all have our strong suits, you know. You’re one to talk.” You decide to pay him no mind, instead jotting down the criteria for your final project in Psychology 1—something about the stages of grief. You’re supposed to relate it to a different human process and show how they fit with one another.

It’s absolute fucking bullshit, and the fact that Mark Lee became your partner among a hundred students is beyond you. Absolutely beyond you.

He nears your screen, reading the content of your project, eyes squinted—you’d noticed his lack of decent eyesight years ago, but it seemingly hadn’t improved. “Relate the stages of grief…hold up, what? That’s difficult as hell. What are we supposed to do, lose a loved one?” You roll your eyes, turning to him. “No, Mark. The point is to find another process that happens gradually and relate it to this—denial, bargaining, anger. Get it?”

He stares back at you. “No.”

You groan audibly, turning back to your notebook. “This is impossible. Can we just switch partners so I won’t have to deal with you?” He smirks, kicking his feet up on the library table. Absently, you note how nice his sneakers look. Reclining onto the seat, he shuts his eyes as if to contemplate.

“I heard through the birdvine our professor’s the type to pair up people she thinks would look good together for shits and giggles. Girls and boys, boys and boys, you name it. Johnny”—he’s referring to a guy who’s a year above yours, studying Biology—“tells me over five couples have been born out of this class. Isn’t that nice?” You scoff, scrolling mindlessly through the slides to keep yourself distracted.

“It really is. A shame we won’t be adding to that list, because I can’t fucking stand you.” He laughs loudly, the vibration of it remaining in the deadly silent air. “I can stand fucking you, though,” he says, and then, before you can even blush, “All jokes. Don’t get your hopes up, ‘kay?” He’s quick to get up, just as flustered as you are at the uncharacteristic phrase that just left his mouth. He collects his jacket and jogs out of the library with a small, half-assed bye under his breath.

—

Lia’s eyes bore into yours. “He actually said that? I’m telling you, he’s some weird kinky guy under that whole cool geek persona. High school Mark would never have. Oh my god. He’s a furry—he’s a furry!” She flops back onto your bed, laughing. You poke at her waist in protest.

“It’s because he’s surrounded by too many weird classy fuckboys. You know, those that think that they’re all that because they haven’t roofied a girl.” You’re half-joking, and you’re really only referring to maybe two guys you’ve happened to see Mark with. As if to read your mind, Lia continues. “Hey, I heard some of them are okay. They’re not, like…those ‘nice guys’, if you get me.”

“I do,” you quip. “But I guess I’m just trying to find a way to justify the whole 360 in Mark. I mean, in high school, he was still nerdy—well, you know. Shy. But jump to sophomore year of uni and he’s suddenly some…” You rack your head for a proper term. “Sex god?” your friend asks, holding in a laugh. “Oh, eat shit,” you fire back, “really, eat shit. And while you’re at it, feed me some, too, because I don’t know what the hell I’m supposed to turn in at the end of the term. Like, Jes—”

There’s a faint knock at the door, and then. “Lia? It’s—uh, it’s me, Daniel? Er, Daniel Choi.” Your wide eyes can’t possibly match Lia’s as she tugs on a decent-looking pullover and puts it on. As she swings the door open, you manage to sufficiently hide yourself under your duvet and attempt to hear their conversation.

“You know, it’s okay if you leave out the whole…saying your full name at the door part. Trust me…I know you,” she jokes, and you hear him laugh before you detect the crinkling of a plastic bag. “Chinese. Uh, I bought some extra for your best friend, because I’m not gonna pretend I don’t see the sentient blob on the bed.”

You pull the blanket off and smile sheepishly. “Hey, Daniel,” you say, “thanks for the food. I owe you an empty room next time, I swear by it. It’ll be easy, since I’m gonna be”—you heave yourself off the bed and onto the floor, where they’re both sitting—“holed up at the library for the next few weeks.”

Lia nods, chewing her chow mein, and then when she’s done, she explains to Daniel your whole huge Psychology end-of-term paper about stages and grief and whatever, oh also she’s partnered with Mark Lee, this guy that we both know from high school, and she dislikes his guts, oh you know him?

“Wait. You know him?” You repeat, and Daniel nods, ruffling his black mullet. “His room’s, like, three away from mine. He’s studying Theoretical Physics, right? Yeah, he’s always in his room doing school shit, but every weekend he’s out with the upperclassmen. He’s probably out now, ‘cause it’s Friday. How he even charmed them, though, is a mystery.”

Mid-dumpling, you roll your eyes. “Y’know, the hardest part is being partnered with him. But also, even finding what kind of gradual process to relate denial and anger too is weirdly hard. It feels like I could find something, but I haven’t gotten it…quite…” you trail off, your eyes landing on Lia and Daniel across you—they’re smiling softly at each other, and you distinguish their fingers interlocking quietly, as if you wouldn’t notice.

“…yet. Except maybe I have. How would you want to participate in my end-of-term paper?” Their gazes turn to yours, and you nod frantically. “Oh my god, I’m a genius! Seriously! Falling in love! Yes! It’s denial—anger—whatever, whatever! It makes perfect sense. The end is acceptance, too! Oh god, Li, it’s perfect. I will owe you for life if you help me out.”

“Wait, what? You dove straight into it, what—recap, please,” Lia asks, and you compose yourself before explaining giddily.

“Falling in love. It happens gradually, and we can compare it to the stages of grief. Seeing as you and Daniel are headed right there, we can use you as some test subjects. It’s not required to have respondents or subjects, really, it’s just an extensive paper, but it might help get the grade up. This is gonna be great, and if you ever wanna back out, you can, because it’s not mandatory.” Lia and Daniel meet eyes briefly, and then slowly, nod. “Okay, that’s pretty smart,” Daniel says, “I’m up for it. Are you?” Lia nods, slowly and hesitantly, and you smile widely. “You two just saved my Psych grade. I’ll be at Giselle’s tonight. Just…not on my bed.” You grab your keys and phone and bound out of your room, straight into the elevator at the end of the hall.

The elevator door nearly closes when a Converse-clad foot steps in, and your eyes rake up the figure, eventually landing on his face.

“Jesus fuck,” you mumble, “you must be kidding me.”

Mark enters the elevator with a small, teasing smile, hands tucked into his jacket’s pockets. “Hey, dude, what’s up? Was on your floor on my stop down to get some money Lucas owed me,” he says, “this is actually a godsend, because my genius brain found us a project idea. Relate grief to something else gradual? Easy as pie. Falling in lo—”

You cut him off before he can finish, “Falling in love, right. I thought of it first, earlier,” you say profusely, absently noting the pettiness in your tone. He whistles. “No need to get all possessive over an idea the previous classes have used before, man.” You continue, ignoring him. “Whatever. Lucky for our grades, I went the extra mile to get us some test subjects. Do you know the two Chois? Lia and Daniel?”

He nods once, “Yeah, their PDA on Instagram is fucking sickening, but I see your technique, and I like that—we get some extra data from their god awful PDA.” You nod once, and he continues. “It’s nearing 11 on a Friday night. Whose party are you headed to?”

“You’re welcome for the test subjects,” you gripe. “Anyway, I was so giddy about coming up with it, I just left them to…well, fornicate. As a compromise for being lab rats. I texted my…” you realize you’re starting to share too much to a guy you typically dislike talking to, and then there’s a silence in the air that’s painfully awkward.

“You texted your…?” Mark asks. “My friend, but she’ll be home at 1AM, so I’m out to kill time. No parties, just…I dunno.” He nods again, and then the elevator lets out a blissful ding. You step out simultaneously, and then he faces you. “Look, it’s freezing out, you’re in shorts and a puffer coat, and it’s three hours to 1AM, so I doubt you’ll get far.” You scoff at his words despite feeling your legs shake from the breeze outside. “I’ll be fine, dumbass.”

“Just concerned,” he says, in a tone that sounds more blank than annoyed, but he turns and heads toward the door anyway. He swivels back around briefly. “It’s in Johnny’s apartment. Just a couple people, if you get bored freezing.” He jogs outside then, and you inwardly appreciate the small gesture, but again, annoyance returns just as quickly. You linger a bit before heading out yourself, walking briskly to a local Japanese restaurant. You consider this an opportunity to have some me time, some rest after a shitty week in university. Lasting ’til 1AM alone and entertained would not at all be a problem.

You last one ramen bowl and head to Johnny’s apartment.

—

When Johnny Suh answers the door, he’s clad in a makeshift shower curtain gown of sorts, and is flushed and very buzzed all over. He hikes up the top to cover his chest and laughs profusely. “Did Mark invite you?” Behind him is a sizeable group of just about twenty people, which looks like forty in a cramped communal space. You’d been here before—Johnny likes to invite just about anyone to get stoned and listen to Kid Cudi on Fridays, and you had pushed Lia to accompany you before.

You distantly spot the kitchenette, the small living room, and then the two bedroom doors opposing each other. “The rule was to show up wearing something not marketed as clothing, but Mark didn’t follow the rules, so. Anyway, you’re off scot-free, too…” he pauses, “…if you take off the puffer coat. We’ve got heating, anyway. Free booze and weed, too.” You figure being in a flimsy tank top isn’t so bad—you’re sure half the people here are already getting laid or trying to, and nobody would really pay attention to you.

You shrug off the coat as Johnny steps aside to let you in, hugging it close to your body and navigating your way to the kitchen. The granite counters are filled with various bottles of booze, and you also note the cigarettes and blunts lining the island. You peruse the brands before settling on a sealed can of decidedly not-so-cheap-looking beer, and crack it open to take a swig. It’s warm and fucking disgusting, but there’s not much glitz in an “anything but clothing” off-campus college party anyway.

There are several people scattered among the living area, passing around a blunt—another group is playing suck and blow. You make your way over to the cheap couch on the far end of the room, taking a seat on the arm and stretching out your hand to claim the blunt. It’s Jae who passes it to you—Jaehyun Jung, an upperclassman whose infamy (for wearing nothing but toilet paper and running through campus) greatly surpasses him. “Who are you?” he asks, and you holler your name back over the Kanye West song playing in the background. “Mark invited me,” you tack onto the end as compensation.

He nods in understanding, watching you take a drag and pass it back to him. He only hands it back, saying, “It’s nearly done, just finish it,” and getting up to probably get some booze or another blunt.

You scan the area for a better place to cherish your weed, because you’re definitely not going to do it on the arm of a couch housing three couples making out to the high heavens. You spot an open window and a fire escape just beside the kitchen and walk over, ducking into the cool night air. It’s not quiet, it never is, and you treasure the peace that comes with the noise, closing your eyes and trying to milk the last few drags. All that is flushed down the drain when somebody kicks you out of your reverie and your last two drags are falling down, through the grills of the fire escape.

“What the fuck?” You look up to meet, of course, Mark’s gaze, teasing and mischievous.

“That wasn’t fucking funny, asshat. Get away from me.” You get up instantly, ducking back into the house and searching for your coat. It’s (very unfortunately) buried under a couple who have escalated from making out to borderline public indecency.

“Fuck it,” you mumble, swinging the door open and mentally preparing yourself for the cold once you get to the sidewalk, floors down. Mark follows suit, a laugh gracing the atmosphere around the two of you. “You know, I forgot how fun it is to make you pissed off. I did it all the time in eighth grade when I told our teacher you knew the solution to the Physics problems.” You’re fucking pissed. However petty, you’re fucking annoyed that you couldn’t finish the blunt, and you pay no attention to him.

He badgers on anyway. “Hey—it was a mistake, I wanted to say hi to you.” You scoff, finally turning—“Why? Because we’re friends? We’re not. We’re Psych partners, we came from the same high school, we share a couple mutual friends. But you and I are not friends, not objectively, anyway. Please, Mark. I only just re-acquainted myself with you today, but, like, you’re already so annoying!” You’re at the elevator now, and when the doors slide open, you step inside and let them close at once. You barely catch the unreadable look on his face in your annoyance, and you lean against the wall, shutting your eyes and breathing heavily.

How you’d even get to Giselle’s, or how you would wait out the remaining half-hour before she got home, was just up to whichever higher power happened to be witnessing you that night.

—

The door of your professor’s office closes with a saddening click. You stare back at her name, embossed on the wood in bold, in defeat, accepting your fate with a heavy heart. Just fifteen minutes prior, you had entered with a whole spiel prepared on how you just had to swap with somebody from your class so you wouldn’t have to work with Mark. This speech had occurred twice now—with your TA, and then once with your professor. This was your second chance, your redemption: so you prepared notes, you prepared convincing words—you had a point.

But your professor simply shooed you away, muttering how she didn’t have time for you because she was going to be receiving hundreds of papers in a few weeks’ time from a different class and she, quite honestly, couldn’t be bothered. You bite your lip, thinking back to the previous Friday—it was nearing two weeks since your small outburst at Mark. Since then, you’d expected to build a silent rapport of just working, observing Lia and Daniel, and then parting. And that was almost it. You would show up to your so-called “lab rat sessions”, cup of warm caramel latte in hand, and work.

Except Mark would constantly make noise, jeer, swipe your pen, and do other things that got on your nerves.

“You’re going to have to stop trying sometime,” Lia says, backhugging you. She’d been waiting outside. You let your head loll back onto her shoulder and whine. “Do you know when you’re so frustrated you want to cry? Yeah? That’s exactly how it is, Li. I can’t keep up with this for another two, three months. It’s like he’s not even, like, fuck, like he’s not even trying, y’know? We’re building the foundation of a pages-long paper. This isn’t some finals essay he can bullshit in three hours.”

You groan as Lia pulls away from you, whirling you around to face her. “It’ll be fine, I swear to you. I’ll help out, anytime you need it. I promise. If I start hating Daniel, I’ll even pretend like I’m in love with him. Head over heels.” You let yourself laugh and pull out your phone as you two begin to walk towards your dorm.

She tsks. “We’re gonna have a thing tonight, right? Like, a lab rat session?”

You nod, squinting over your calendar app. “Yeah, at around 5:30 to 6. It’ll be quick, but Mark and I are gonna have to stay behind to divide the work for the general paper and then start. Hopefully we can get some outlining done by tonight…so don’t wait up,” you sigh. She smiles apologetically, pinching your waist affectionately.

“Daniel and I will totally help you. He’s a Mark anti now. I told him about the party outburst thing.” You had sent her a slew of texts that night, and like every other story you had told (save for the most private ones), Daniel had caught wind of it. You’re half sure he was capable of blackmailing you at that point. “Good,” you shoot back, “I’m going to need all the anti-Mark force I can get.”

“Why?” You both turn to see Mark standing idly behind you. There’s a beat, and then: “You look like an inane stalker,” you retort, turning to continue walking. Lia follows suit—with the two of you, the vibe of the atmosphere would always come easy. If one was mad, the other would act mad, too.

“Hey,” Mark repeats, falling into step beside you, “why do you need an anti-Mark force? Tell me.” At this point, your nerves are on fire and your blood is boiling, and you’re beginning to envision beating him up on the quad. “Mark, it’s been great, but we’re going to our dorm, and in case you don’t want to catch a restraining order, I suggest you get off at your floor instead of following us like a creep,” you say sweetly, quickening your steps until he’s far behind you, smiling. Fucking asshole.

“I’ll see ya this evening, then,” he teases, and you grumble under your breath.

—

It’s 5:45 when Lia and Daniel leave the library—fifteen minutes early. You and Mark leave ten minutes later, hours before you were supposed to complete your task. You’re fuming, and for once, Mark has the decency to read the room and feel remorse.

The evening had started off well enough, though—Lia and Daniel had showed up, did their thing, described what was happening, and you and Mark had noted it down. And then, well. Mark spilled water all over your planner, which, in hindsight, was definitely unintentional, but in the spur of the moment, you could do nothing but your natural—everybody’s natural—response to getting something precious ruined. You began to cry. “What the fuck,” you sniffled, “is wrong with you?!” You had shaken the majority of water off your planner, but any and all dates had been smudged and bled, and you couldn’t bring yourself to forgive him. “I know I called you annoying, but this is too far,” you had said, watching his face go from teasing to genuinely sorry. “Dude, it was accidenta—”

“I don’t give a fuck—!” You quickly cut yourself off and wipe your tears when you see a young library assistant heading towards your table. Everybody composes themselves—Lia and Daniel straighten out the things on the surface and Mark sits up straight. “Hey,” he says. “I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but two students already came in with a noise complaint. We’re gonna have to ask you to,” he makes a gesture, “leave for now and come back tomorrow. Also, the puddle on the table…yeah. I’m really sorry.” He leaves, as if to make sure you have no other choice but to just go, and you slump back onto your chair in exhaustion.

“You two can go ahead,” you hear Mark say, “I’m really sorry about this. We’ll clean up and apologize.” Faintly, you hear them get up, and you feel Lia’s hand squeeze yours as she promises a text and food later. You let your eyes remain shut, drinking in the quiet, trying to calm your inner turmoil.

Ten minutes later, when you’re out in the cold November air, Mark finally speaks. You had cleaned up and collected your things in silence. “I’m really sorry,” he says, “it was an accident, for real. I know I tease a lot, but, uh, I’m being serious. I would never have done that on purpose. I see you write shit on that thing a lot, so…I know how much you like it. Treasure it…? I don’t—whatever it is, I’m really sorry. Like, really. T’was an accident. If you need me to pay for it…” You shake your head softly, hugging your damp planner closer to your sweater-clad chest. “It’s okay. Thanks, anyway. For helping. I’ll email you what you have to do. Bye,” you turn and begin walking in the direction of your dorm. The sun is beginning to set, golden orange hues casting a vast array of colors onto the landscape of the city. You sigh softly, heart heavy with annoyance and exhaustion, and speed up before you start having a mini-breakdown.

—

Stage 1: Denial|

Your cursor blinks back at you as you finish typing in your outline for the introduction. It’s early into November, but already, you’ve had to shut your window to shielf yourself from the biting breeze outside. Across you, Lia applies mascara and talks to you. “What are you up to?” she asks, face contorted.

“This godforsaken paper,” you mumble back, “just finished the introduction outline. I’m trying to give a loose definition for each gradual ‘stage.’” Shoving your Macbook off your lap, you get up to stretch. “Which I’ll probably find on Google Scholar, honestly. If you had to give me a definition—what’s denial?”

She hums contemplatively, wand on lash, and then pipes up. “I think it’s just a stage where you can’t face the fact that you’re interested in that person. Like, why them? With Daniel, he wasn’t really my type. So the whole denial was denying I liked him, because…well, yeah. But I think it differs. Some people deny it because they’re shy, or ashamed, or weirded out that they even like them.”

You’ve had your fair share of crushes before, and sure enough, you had denied them all. But that was high school—college, though, had only brought short-lived flings and one night stands; you were an overachiever, much too committed to your own prosperity to pay mind to anybody else for too long. (Except Lia.) So you hadn’t really experienced the whole boyfriend-in-university thing—not that you particularly wanted to, but you were just human; you were curious. Lia had gotten it, and it looked wonderful.

Speaking of—“So, a week without meeting Mark in person, huh? How is that going for you?” You scoff lightly, shaking your head as you pull your hair into a bun. “It’s going just fine. Dandy, actually. We work from our dorms and you and Daniel just update us. It’s a fine arrangement that I regret was not formulated sooner.” Lia nods in understanding, and you watch her pull on a top, mutter I’m out and head outside. For the fifth time this week, you’re alone in the dorm, with nothing but your Alexa playing SZA and your laptop. You pull it onto your lap again, staring at the boldface letters you had typed minutes prior: denial. You had no firsthand experience of being mature and going through denial; not in that way, anyway. You found it stupid that people even denied when it would be less painful to just admit interest.

You blow a raspberry as you research studies related to the term, bored out of your mind.

—

Two days later, you meet Mark again.

You’d also had the pleasure of, for a minute or two, meeting a friend of his, Donghyuck Lee from Economics. He’s loud and amusing and, from your viewpoint, undeserving of somebody as boring as Mark. (That’s from a minute-long intercation.)

At Lia’s insistence (and likely Daniel’s, too), you two met up to properly work and collaborate. In fear of being kicked out again, the four of you had chosen to meet somewhere else—a cafe off-campus affectionately named something along the lines of Saltwater Coffee. Naturally, after Donghyuck leaves, you find yourself sitting idly (awkwardly) beside Mark. “They won’t be long,” he says suddenly, “er, Daniel just texted me. They’re near.” You nod, pursing your lips, eyes trained onto your laptop. “We’re almost done formulating the denial stage and we can start outlining anger and bargaining. This’ll take about a week more—maybe mid to late November? Uh, I know it seems justifiable to slack off with the holidays,” you say, “but I really want us to finish this early. The due date’s in mid-February, so we can pass this on the 14th.” You turn to face him. “Get it? ‘Cause it’s Valentine’s Day.”

He nods. “Okay. No slacking. I get it. The Valentine’s is smart, too.” You nod back in silent understanding, turning back to type frantically into your keyboard.

You hear the door jingle and Lia’s small “hey, guys”, so you look up and offer a smile. “I’m gonna go order everyone some coffee,” Mark says beside you, getting up and shuffling over to the counter. Daniel joins him, and Lia takes a seat across you, her smile knowing and apologetic. “Everything okay?” You blow a raspberry, but smile, anyway. “It’s not so bad. It could be better, but no more banter, just very annoyed auras…? You get it. It’s just been tough trying to divert my focus to this and ignore all the annoyance I feel.”

“Totally, I get that,” she says, “but all the same, I’m glad he’s matured a little bit and lessened all the ribbing.” You smile at that, agreeing, and then the conversation spirals into one about both of your days—“Professor Callahan totally pops a stiffy over Professor Michaelson”, “Daniel tells me Joshua cheated. Yes, on Jess!”, “Mia dropped out the other day and nobody knows why, hope she’s okay”—before Daniel and Mark return, coffee cups in hand. Mark places one next to you, and profusely, you look up at him, who’s just about to sit.

“Thanks, but I don’t drink brewed coff—”

“It’s a caramel latte, the only thing you drink. Heard you say that to Lia once.” He takes a seat and pulls his laptop open.

You stare at him, taking the cup and bringing it to your lips. Sure enough, it’s caramel—thick, and foamy, and sweet. You look up at him again, but he’s busy on Google Scholar, perusing through journals and studies. You shake your head before turning to Lia, who’s already looking at you, expression mirroring yours.

Sweet, she mouths, but you purse your lips and choose not to acknowledge it. “Thanks,” you say quietly, and he hums to say you’re welcome.

Your eyes flicker to him. He’s wearing a knitted sweater, but he’s pulled it up to his elbows. He’s typing quickly, and he can use all his fingers, too (you fail miserably at that), and his brows are furrowed as if he’s stressed, or in a hurry. You’ve never really noticed this much of Mark before. It’s probably, you think absently, because you’re confused. Puzzled at the gesture that you didn’t expect—at all.

After an hour, he angles his laptop to yours. “Nailed the intro. High five?” You open the Google doc on your own browser, and sure enough, the word count has increased monumentally. You can’t deny his knack for writing. “There are a few discrepancies in grammar,” you say instead. “But…okay. This is good.” You ignore his hand, in mid-air, and continue researching.

Lia holds in a giggle, but turns back to Daniel, who, after fifteen minutes, turns to you and Mark. “Lia and I are heading out, guys,” he says, and Lia quickly tacks on. “Hey, if you need me to stay, I can,” she says quickly, but you smile and shake your head.

“This might take a while. Go ahead. See ya at the dorm, Li. Bye, Daniel.” Mark bids his farewells, too, and they leave you alone in the cafe. It’s nearing a three hour crunch when he abruptly gets up to stretch, a low grunt leaving his lips. “I’m exhausted,” he sighs, “but at least we’re nearly done with this whole denial thing.”

“We’re actually only just starting,” you state, “this is going to go through a lot of editing and proofreading.”

He chuckles and walks back to the counter to order something, and you shut your laptop to rest your eyes. Your glasses rest uncomfortably on the bridge of your nose as you breathe deeply. You lose track of time, and you open your eyes ten minutes later, fumbling to get up properly. There’s a panini beside your laptop, wrapped neatly in a tissue and laid on a plate. Mark’s is empty, save for crumbs, and he says nothing.

“Get up,” he remarks teasingly after a while, and you groan in exhaustion. “I am, I’m up,” you mutter, straightening your back and flexing your neck. Inwardly, you wonder if you should thank him for the panini that is obviously yours that you obviously did not buy for yourself.

Then Mark’s hand stretches out to take the panini, and he takes a bite. “Sorry,” he says, “I had to put my second sandwich in your space. This table’s a little small.” You hum back in acknowledgement, nodding once. “It’s, uh…all good,” you respond, voice small as you type into your laptop. Internally, your body fills slowly with humiliation and confusion, but you stay quiet, and that’s how the rest of the night goes: a silent, steady beat of keyboard clicking and the occasional question.

No banter, no nothing—it’s a godsend, yes, it is, but you can’t help but miss the abrasive, playful conversations the two of you had built up over the previous several weeks. But really—had you truly assumed he had bought you a panini? As if a coffee wasn’t enough? You felt at odds with yourself for even expecting such a gesture from the guy whose main habit was to annoy you to the ends of the Earth.

“It’s late,” he says, as if he’s reading your mind and knowing you’re absolutely mortified inside. “Let’s head home.” You nod, deeming the night’s work satisfactory—maybe even beyond, considering the amount of effort you both put into the output. You shove your laptop and charger into your bag and pocket your phone, lingering awkwardly and waiting for Mark to finish packing up. He’s particular with it—he has little sections in his backpack for the wires and chargers, and even his AirPods, and his laptop.

“Very organized,” you find yourself commenting offhandedly, your tone taking on a teasing edge. He glares playfully back at you.

“Sorry I don’t want my wires to break,” he shoots back, eyeing your flimsy tote bag, “unlike some people.” You roll your eyes and, against your strongest wills, a smile appears on your lips, albeit a small one. His eyes linger on your smile for a little bit before he clears his throat and zips up his knapsack. “Let’s, er, go. Thank Jesus we’re in the same building.” When you exit, the air bites at you despite the jacket covering your body, and you quicken your pace. “It’s cold as hell.”

“Ironic,” Mark says. You hide a smile.

—

That’s what November brings you—the next week and a half are composed of just slowly learning to get used to working with Mark again and going home late into the night, crunching to the max.

Your paper begins to take on more and more structure, and two out of the six days you’ve met, Mark has set down a caramel latte for you to arrive to. The acoustic music slowly phases into holiday guitar, and the coat rack at the entrance is weighed down more and more as the days pass, preparing to welcome December.

You and Mark work silently, save for the rare banter and eyeroll, and very gradually, the annoyance that had bubbled up within seconds before had sank down. You’re not friends, per se—it’s just that the frustration and exasperation had lessened considerably.

You were civil. That’s it. You won’t try to deny that you’ve been thinking about this a little too much—about what your “friendship” had become with Mark. You hadn’t snapped at him in days, and he hadn’t tugged at your ballpen in even longer. It wasn’t that you had cowered him into silence by crying over your planner—it may have instigated it, but his behavior was…different.

More calm, more sure. Less childish. He would still tease you, but not as much. It’s nearing mid-November now, and you’ve successfully done much of your introduction and denial, needing less and less of Lia and Daniel’s presence. (Which you’re sure they’re grateful for.) But being left alone with Mark isn’t as bad as you once thought—

“Hello. Earth to you,” you distantly hear, and you whip your head in the direction of the voice as you pace back to your dorm building. Mark stares blankly back at you. “What,” you mumble back. He quirks a brow before continuing. “I was saying, I think I need to take a rain check tomorrow. The, uh”—he clears his throat—“um, yeah.”

You eye him. “Okay…?”

He nods profusely, “Yeah, all good.” The walk continues in silence, the sun finally setting down behind the Manhattan skyline beyond you and the breeze taking on a chillier temperature. You sigh softly, fatigue overtaking you as you stare at the building nearing you. “If you take a rain check, just make sure you write it within the day or after,” you say, half-sternly and half-tiredly. He mumbles a “got it” and you both jog up the steps to the lobby, where you run into, by some weird twist of the day, a small group of anti-abortion protesters.

“Jesus Christ,” Mark mutters under his breath. “You have got to be fucking kidding me.” You rub the bridge of your nose in your fingers, choosing to tune them out and instead maneuver your way through the door. Before you can even take a step, though, they’re all up in your face with pamphlets and brochures and a guitar. “Excuse me,” you grunt, trying to gently push them aside, but they only come on stronger. “A child is a child,” they say. “If you know anybody who’s—”

“Is this your new initiative? Preying on college students on school grounds, unaccounted for?” Mark asks from behind you. You turn to find he’s filming and stifle a laugh. “I’m surprised nobody’s kicked you out. Won’t be long, now,” he adds with a smile.

You tune out nearly everything else—it’s really just them telling Mark to stop recording and him retorting with equally snarky phrases. It’s not until maybe after a solid two minutes of back and forth that one of them, a weird middle-aged woman, pulls out a burgundy gummy bear from a bag and pushes it into Mark’s camera. He takes it from her and examines it, puzzled. “That,” she says matter-of-factly, “is the approximate size of a fetus. It’s big. It’s sentient, alive. What, I beg of you, what would you do?”

Mark squints at it. Then he pops it into his mouth, takes your hand, and runs straight to the elevator across the floor.

“There’s a bunch of anti-abortion people outside, it’s not cool!” He hollers to the receptionist before the doors close with a damning click.

There’s a beat, and then.

Both of you are doubling over in laughter. “Why the hell would y—why would you do that?! You’re insane!” The response is: “Because they’re not cool! They’re fuckin’ annoying! So I ate their baby!” There are tears in your eyes, your laughter so hard it’s nearing silent—Mark’s, though, is loud and annoying sounding, though you seem to not mind so much. The laughter subsides when the ding of your floor sounds and you straighten yourself up. Getting into a different position reminds you of the very there, very obvious brushing of your hand against Mark’s, which he’d taken just moments earlier, post-baby eating.

You freeze and jerk your hand away. “I’ll, um, go now,” you say, “I’ll see you tomorr—no, the day after.” Against your wills, you meet his eyes, and you’re surprised to find that he’s already looking at you, an unreadable expression on his face. “Okay,” he says, his eyes not leaving yours. Your heart beats faster at a very small increment, but you head out and semi-run to your room, swinging it open and leaning against it.

You look up to find Lia and Daniel engaged in a heated Monopoly match. You make no noise, mind (and heart, but you can’t tell why) racing fast. You watch them play for a second before they both look up slowly.

“You’re smiling like a goddamn idiot,” Daniel says. Your face falls immediately. “I’m, um, no I’m not,” you say casually, pacing over to your bed and flopping onto it. Lia laughs loudly.

“That sounded so freaked. Like we’re your mom and you just brought weed home kind of freaked.” Pause.

“Are you hiding something from me?” She rises from her spot to look at you, head in pillow and all, and you let out a muffled “no!”, probably too defensive for your own good.

It’s Daniel’s turn to snort. You look up and glare at him, “You’re getting too comfortable for your own good. You need to humble yourself, Daniel. What’s it again? Oh yeah, Yeonjun, right?” He rolls his eyes at the use of his Korean name and turns back to the Monopoly board.

Lia flops atop you, eliciting a grunt from your lips. “Are you okay? Did somebody flirt with you? Did Mark finally fuck off and leave you alone properly?”

At the mention of Mark, your heart races—you will it to stop, and audibly groan in the process. “What is it, you bitch?” Lia asks, tugging on a section of your hair. “It’s nothing, Li! Nothing, I promise.” She glares at you before walking to Daniel and covering his ears. Instantly, he begins to let out a chorus of Lalala, and deeming the environment safe enough, you let it slip.

“Mark and I held hands. But it—”

“You what?!”

“It really, really doesn’t mean anyth—”

“How can that not mean anything? It’s hand holdi—”

“If you would listen to the backstory you’d know!” She pauses, and then uncovers Daniel’s ears and knees him.

“Okay, get out. Monopoly postponed, Jun,” she says, pushing him out insistently. He barely collects his phone and keys before he’s out, but you swoon silently when you catch him pressing a short goodbye kiss to her forehead before actually leaving. She turns immediately, fire and curiosity awfully evident in her face.

She nears you. “Explain.”

And that’s what sparks the story of the weird protesters, Mark’s power move, and the unintentional hand hold that lasted a few moments too long. She nods the entire time, laughing, and then her face straightens out again. You can almost hear the gears in her head turning as she analyzes the situation, and then she nods once.

“Okay. Perfectly justifiable to freak out.” Another pause. “But why were you smiling?” You stare blankly back at her, head working impossibly quick to formulate a reply. You’ve taken too long now, judging by the way Lia is looking at you with the most shit-eating grin on her fucking face. You groan.

“You like him, you bitch!”

You shake your head, facing her. “I don’t, dude. Trust me. I just…it was a fun experience, so naturally I’d be laughing. And smiling. But I’m just not interested in Mark! I’m not,” you fumble, being completely honest.

You didn’t—not even if you looked in the mirror and asked yourself. But you couldn’t deny the feelings you felt in the ten seconds from the elevator to your room, your heart racing and your fist curling and uncurling. When you look at Lia again, she’s still smiling, flushed. “You like him,” she says into her palm, which she’s slapped over her mouth in disbelief. You stare back at her, your expression baffled. “If I did,” you begin, getting up to discard your shirt, “I’d have told you by now. It’s really not that big of a deal unless you make it out to be.”

After that, you and Mark spend nearly three weeks walking on eggshells around each other. While conversations are no longer avoided, and you could talk without getting exasperated or too embarrassed, finger brushes are frequent, and eye contact only makes you extremely nervous. You had worked until the second stage—anger—already, but you’d still been polishing the denial and introduction. Considering November wasn’t over and the paper was due February, you figured you were moving at an okay pace. Besides, a lot of your friends hadn’t even begun.

—

There are two instances where you rush home, mortified beyond belief.

The first when when you struck up a conversation with the cute, Australian barista. Scrawled in big penmanship on his name tag is Chan. You had brought up, in passing, how often you’re at the cafe and how you probably deserve a free drink. He replied with a low hum, and you dialed down your flirty tone, slightly embarrassed. But not really. You’ve rejected plenty of people before. It’s when you’re already paying for your drink that he replied, handing you your (for a change) iced matcha with a small grin.

“I’d have flirted with you weeks ago if you didn’t have your boyfriend with you all the time. He’s always buying you your drinks.” You spluttered for a good second, staring at him incredulously. “He’s not my boyfriend,” you finally said.

He had shrugged, nonchalant. “He sure as hell looks at you a lot for someone you’re not dating. And you do it just as much, if not more. I’m observant, by the way. Not a stalker.” You had taken your cup and paced over to the other end of the cafe, sat across Mark, cheeks heated.

He looked up, brow raised. You shook your head.

The second time was when Donghyuck graced you both with his presence. You quickly found out that he was a magnetic presence and you both shared similar interests. The energy you both created was both amusing and annoying to Mark.

Although you kept quiet mostly, you enabled Donghyuck’s incessant teasing, which annoyed Mark to the ends of the Earth. “You’re a dork. Isn’t he?” You look up and nod with a smile. Mark rolls his eyes, sending Donghyuck into a laughing frenzy. Mark just grunts and continues typing.

Hyuck had made a joke about how two Physics textbooks discussed why the sad man named Mark owns two of them and didn’t have a life, and you laughed.

You didn’t usually laugh, not around Mark, at least, since it was safe to say you didn’t have any source of entertainment in such a boring guy. But you laughed at the witty joke, and Donghyuck, without thinking much, had said in passing: “Mark, I guess you’re right about everything about her being pretty.”

Mark said nothing, typing. You said nothing. Nobody said anything, not even a sly Donghyuck or, from the counter, an even slyer Chan.

—

When you see Mark next, it’s three days later, and it’s, for the second time, in Johnny’s apartment.

Lia had asked if you wanted to tag along, and you found no harm in going. (“You’re going because Mark is” becomes Lia’s favorite phrase of the night, so much it’s spread to Daniel, who you’d succumbed to and spilled everything to hours prior.) The walk there has something boiling low in your gut and you’re quiet, in fear you might end up vomiting in nerves or saying something stupid. Lia teases you, but her hand clasping yours reassures you, and you squeeze it tightly.

You get there late—it’s past 1AM, and you have a sense of deja vu walking into the cramped space. It’s fuller this time—people are creeping into the bedrooms to smoke in private or do some other things, but suffice to say it’s crowded as fuck.

“Want a drink?” Lia hollers, and you nod over the music. Johnny’s neighbor is another upperclassman named Doyoung, though he’s mainly referred to as Doie by just about everybody around him.

You’ve seen his girlfriend call him bunny a few times, though you’ve long desired to repress that memory.

Judging by the fact that you can faintly hear a different song from the next room, the party has probably extended to Doyoung’s. There’s quite a gathering this week—the rich freshman who you’d befriended once before, Chenle, and his horde of friends are here; from Lia, who hands you a drink, you learn that Kun and Sicheng, two incredibly attractive juniors, are here, too—in Doie’s, though. The party only intensifies, which is hard, because Johnny’s apartment is very tiny.

Eventually, you find yourself in the bathroom, smoking a joint you’d grabbed out of the clammy hands of a tipsy Chenle and kicking a couple out under the guise that you’re Johnny’s cousin. Chenle had protested but eventually given in, pulling a new one out of his pocket.

The bathroom light is white and harsh, but there’s a very funky lamp at the corner. From your place inside the dry (and thankfully clean…looking) bathtub, you eye it. It’s a tall one in the shape of a glass of margarita.

You heave yourself up and find the switch, and then when it’s on, you giggle at the green light emitting from it. You have absolutely no idea why Johnny, Jaehyun, or their roommate Jungwoo (3J, as some call them) have a decorative, margarita-shaped green lamp, and in their bathroom nonetheless, but you shut off the main light and return to smoking your blunt. Deciding your ass aches far too much, you lean against the tile wall and cherish the smoke.

The door opens abruptly, and you curse, pushing it back closed.

“I have explosive diarrhea,” you say robotically, using the same excuse you did for the previous three couples that showed up.

From the other side, you hear a shrill laugh and sound of confusion. When you peer over the other side and see Mark, you groan and laugh. “What the hell are you doing?”

“I saw you come in. Like, twenty minutes ago.”

“I’m cherishing the party privately.”

Mark ushers himself into the dark space and shuts the door. He makes a show of locking it, as if to show you it’s possible to do so. The sound of it locking sends a wave of nerves up your spine.

“I didn’t lock it in case a medical emergency happens and they have to rush inside.”

Mark quirks his brow. “I doubt they would think to go inside the restroom and not panic and call 911, you know.”

You shrug in indifference and take another drag, reluctantly offering it to him.

He takes it, and you pause for a second to observe him. His hair, dark, and which usually covers his entire forehead like a broom or at least parts in the middle slightly, is now styled differently.

He’s in a fitting black shirt and blue jeans, and, upon your closer inspection, silver rings adorn his fingers. You will yourself to look down. It’s dark. “What’s that you’re holding?” You ask instead, trying not to extend your stare at his shoulders.

“Your puffer coat,” he says, tossing it to you. “Left it last time.”

“That time when you annoyed the shit out of me, right,” you retort.

“Yes, exactly that time. That was ages ago. Weeks ago. Look at us now.”

“Us now—what, still disliking each other?”

He laughs humorlessly, but doesn’t entertain you further. He turns to the lamp instead. “Do you know I was there when they moved this in,” he begins, gesturing to it, “Jae got it at some weird, awful flea market, and he had to buy some extra wiring to fix it or whatever. I was doing Physics homework. It was at the start of this school year. And I bet you didn’t know…” he bends down and reaches to the base of the lamp, pressing a button, “that it changes color.”

The room is bathed in red now, and you swallow. “Interesting,” you manage to say, despite the racing in your head. “Very,” he responds, taking a step closer to you. You gaze up at him. He’s tall. You breathe softly. You nod in agreement. You don’t know what to do. You want to punch him and kiss him and leave all at once.

You want to kiss him, oh God, you want to kiss him.

“Oh God,” you say softly, out loud. Oh fuck. Too much weed?

He inches closer, leaving the blunt on the rim of the sink. “Why?” He smiles a little and you smile back, nervous. He’s so close now, and he smells so good—like cologne and laundry and weed. You shake your head. “Nothing,” you mumble back.

He’s even closer now, eyes boring into yours. You adjust your strap, a nervous habit. He takes your hand and does it for you. “I like this song,” he says casually, like he’s not playing with the strap of your dress. “Do you know what it’s called?” It’s vaguely familiar to you, but you shake your head.

“It’s Jhene Aiko,” he replies, and you nod. You gravitate closer.

You stare at him. He stares back. “I’m high,” you say. You giggle. “I had a brownie and that blunt.”

“That’s a lot,” he says. “Don’t finish the blunt, ‘kay?” You nod back, and giggle again. In two seconds, your nervous mechanism has kicked in and you’re laughing like a psycho. “I’m high,” you repeat, and then he kisses you, effectively sobering you up.

Huh. He kisses you, effectively sobering you up. He kisses you.

You kiss back, shocked and relieved, deepening it, trying to get as much of him as possible. His hands are big and wide and warm, traveling all over you. You want him. Your arms wrap around his neck, pulling him closer, lips molding against yours deliriously.

“Want you,” you say when his hands play with the hem of your dress, teetering closer and closer to your core. “I said, I want you,” you whine, “now.” Mark only laughs, his hands under your dress and playing with the lace waistband of your underwear.

“I like how this feels,” he mumbles. “Wanna take a look.” You whimper, hiking your leg up and nodding. “Please, just…touch me,” you say breathlessly. “Please.”

“I will,” he says, voice calm. “You’re being good.” You can’t deny the noise you make at the praise, breathy and loud. You pull him in again, drunk for more, your hands raking through his hair. It’s dark, the both of you basking in the small red light. Mark hikes your dress up, inching it higher, slowly, until he sees the hem of your white lace underwear. He grunts and pulls at it. “I love this,” he says. “So fuckin’, Jesus.”

You giggle against the smile. He toys with your panties for a bit before finally pulling them down, watching them sink to your ankles. “Hot,” he jokes, and you laugh in disbelief. “Why would you even be joking abou—”

“Mark! Let’s go, it’s 2:30!” Donghyuck’s voice is just as loud and clear as it would be if you weren’t separated by a door. Jolted, you and Mark instinctively break apart and stare at the rattling door. “Maaaark,” he sing-songs, knocking to a beat. You stare at Mark, waiting for him to respond.

“I have explosive diarrhea,” he says. You stifle a guffaw, pulling your panties up.

He pouts, tapping your ass. “Bullshit,” Donghyuck says from outside. “I’m cooomin’ in!”

In the span of a minute, where you realize Donghyuck is not bluffing and in fact has a stolen bathroom key from Jungwoo’s bedside drawer, you manage to shove yourself into the bathtub and hide yourself with the curtain. Mark switches the light back on, much to both of your disappointment, and pretends to smoke the blunt you’d left on the sink fifteen minutes ago. Ergo: pre-kiss.

You find your phone on the bathtub floor and grip it, turning the brightness down. You have a plethora of messages and voicemails from Lia, five calls from Daniel, and an interesting iMessage of Donghyuck’s red, weed-induced eyes from an unknown number. It could be anybody, and that scares you.

The texts are all frantic, and they’re the last things that bring you out of your high and back to reality. Where are u, who u with?, u getting railed??!, Have you seen mark?

“Hyuck, if I actually did have a shitstorm coming out of my ass, you’d be so sorry for breaking in,” you hear Mark say. You sink lower into the bathtub, awaiting Donghyuck’s voice. “You were the one who suggested we go at 2:30, and you’ve been smoking weed for the longest time, dipshit,” he says, “now let’s go. I haven’t seen your Psych girl all night, so you can cry about it at home.” You faintly detect Mark protesting and then, “Let me just freshen up! Just go ahead.”

Reluctantly, you peek out and find Mark alone. You get up and fix your dress.

You’re sober now. The red lights are gone. It’s just you and Mark, plain and simple. Your feelings haven’t gone away, though. You’re fucking fucked. You want him to fuck you. Oh, fuck.

“Go,” you say instead, spluttering. “And I’ll see you. Tuesday.”

You leave first despite yourself, not turning around for even a split second, finding a worried (and then relieved) Lia and taking five consecutive tequila shots to down the nerves and denial bubbling in your system. She raises a brow, but you refuse to even meet her eyes, head and heart pounding impossibly fast. You want to kiss him again. So, so bad. But what the fuck did you just let happen?

—

Stage 2: Anger|

Lia hadn’t pressed, and you were nervous, but it was getting easy to diverge the details of what happened during Johnny’s party. You had instead opted to work alone, too much of a coward to even see Mark’s face. If you were being completely honest with yourself, you feared you might just kiss him if you ever saw him. So you spent days at class working, and then at your dorm working, adjusting your route to avoid, as much as possible, Mark or Hyuck’s buildings and that godforsaken cafe. You did text Mark, though, and the exchanges were brief, not even a “thank you” or “good morning” preceding them. It was awful.

Working alone forced you into a heavy load of retrospection. You would think deeply, like how you are now, spiraling into a series of questions where you studied the play-by-play of what happened in the bathroom, up against the wall. You liked it. A lot. But you couldn’t. You wouldn’t let yourself. Why it even happened…God. You mentally berated yourself for giving into it. Didn’t you hate him? Or at least dislike him? Didn’t you take pleasure in scolding him or fighting with him?

“You’re freaking me out,” Lia says from her bed. She’s been staring at you. “You’ve been lying on your bed staring at the ceiling for twenty straight minutes.” She walks over to you, flopping next to you, her arms winding around your body. “You can tell me anything.”

“I know,” you say, nervous. You gulp.

“Okay. If you’re n—”

“Mark and I kissed.”

She sits up and turns to look at you.

“Made out, more like. We were going to fuck if we didn’t get interrupted.” You’re mortified, refusing to meet her gaze. When you look up, her face is even, but you know she’s bubbling over with giddiness inside. “That is so fucking great, dude,” she replies. “Why are you so embarrassed?”

“Because it’s Mark,” you whine. “He’s not…I don’t know.”

She lies back down. “You’re overthinking this.” You laugh, poking her waist. “I know, but I just…I feel like he might not like me much anymore.” You recount the way you left him hanging, despite the lack of awkward air and the potential to talk and become something. She tsks but justifies it, because she’s so good at that, being a mediator, and you continue with your day quietly.

Your mind is always on it, though, his hands and his lips, and you’ve scoured Spotify for the song playing that he had commented on.

It’s called Pussy Fairy. You cannot make it up. It’s a weird title, but the song is heavenly, and you can’t deny when it’s full blast on your AirPods and your hand is creeping closer and closer there, trying desperately to replicate what you felt in that moment. When you’re not sated, ashamed and sighing, you resort to working on your paper. There are moments where both you and Mark are working at the same time, and you hate yourself for getting all flustered when it happens.

—

It’s a Tuesday, in the early afternoon, when you’re out of class and cleaning out the little litter in your dorm, repasting whatever decorations fell off, et cetera. You have the time, anyway, and it wouldn’t hurt to fix the place up a bit. You’re halfway into re-stringing Lia’s fairy lights when someone knocks on the door, jolting you. You curse under your breath, hopping off her bed to swing the door open and reveal—

“What is up?!” Donghyuck grins back at you. His hand is raised in a high-five invitation, which you hesitantly reciprocate. “Mark tells me you’re meeting today, and that I should come remind you, since it seems like you forgot. He says you haven’t texted all day. Since I was on this floor—do you know Jeno Lee? Do you know it’s so amusing how Mark, Jeno, and I all have the same surname? Anyway. I was here on your floor to remind Jeno about an Econ presentation, and Mark texts me and goes, if you’re with Jeno, then remind you—you as in you, you—to come meet me and work.”

He talks so goddamn fast. “You talk so goddamn fast.”

He just guffaws, high-fiving you again. “Well, you get my point, right? Meet Mark at the cafe and work is all he said to do. If you wanna.” You nod slowly, absorbing his words. “Tell him I’ll be a little late,” you say simply, and as you’re about to shut the door, he talks again, his voice quieter this time. “I know you were hiding behind the curtain.”

You pull the door open again, so fast a minuscule gust of wind washes over both of your faces. “You’re kidding,” you say, “you’re kidding.” You stare at each other for a second before his solem features break into a smile. “I am. Mark spilled everything to me, so I decided to trick you.” Relief and annoyance break over your system as you swat Donghyuck’s shoulder. “You’re a dick,” you spit. “You’re bringing a bad image to Econ majors.”

He merely laughs and closes the door himself, light brown hair fluffing with the severity of his laugh (cackle.) Slightly annoyed, you drag yourself to get dressed, dread building up in your stomach at the prospect of seeing Mark again. Not when your mind conjures up what happened everytime you just see his name. Or the word mark. You’ve been out of it since it happened, not even responding to your usual heated debates with the conservative Trump supporter in class. You suppose the best way to confront it is to simply confront it.

When you get there, though, it’s clear that confrontation would not be an option. Immediately, when you sit, the air shifts into something oddly familiar—the atmosphere between the two of you when you first got partnered up. Except now, Mark won’t even give you a pinch of attention, or banter, instead typing his questions into the document to avoid verbal conversation. (He is a fucking petty bitch, you’ll give him that.)

You stroll over to the counter, pout set on your lips. “Hello,” Chan says politely, and you just smile half-heartedly. “Lover’s quarrel?” He teases, and you roll your eyes. “He’s ignoring me,” you respond, watching him make you a latte. “And we’re not dating. We never were.”

“Mm, right,” he says, finishing and setting your drink in front of you. You laugh a little, taking it. “No. We weren’t. But I’ll update you.”

When you return, Mark’s looking at you, quiet as ever. You break his gaze and continue working, working and working until the sun sets, nestled deep behind the horizon. When you look up again, the sky is already dark, city lights providing solace to the place. You look at Mark quizzically, as if to ask him what time you should both leave, but he just shrugs. “Any time,” he states plainly, and huffing, you get up.

“I’ll go right ahead then,” you say, trying your best to sound annoyed and get your message across. He says nothing, watching you pack up your stuff and sling your bag over your shoulder, and then eventually, leave.

Daniel is the first to see you in your raged, annoyed state—you meet him in the elevator of the lobby, your blood boiling and your fists balled. Knowing you’re headed to the same floor, he presses the button, ruffles his hair, and then lets the silence take over. And then, “What’s going on?” You breathe deeply, turning to him with a tired look on your face. “Mark’s going on,” you mumble, “he was ignoring me the entire time. And to think he was the one who requested my presence! It makes no sense. Why would he ignore me when we can just talk about it?”

“About what?”

It suddenly occurs to you that Daniel knows about your weird feelings for Mark, but not how they culminated. You splutter. “Um, about us. Everything.” Daniel looks amused, but the doors open, and you thank them for the temporary exit from the topic. He stops you right outside, though, and pulls out two ticket, card-looking things. “Wait, um. Listen, Lia and I are going to reach our seven-month…anniversary, I guess, of, y’know, being a thing. I know it seems really small, but I want to give her a little something out of appreciation, so I got us a room at this ski lodge outside the city.”

“That’s so sweet,” you say honestly, “but I must admit, it comes on sort of stalker-y. Like you’re whisking her off out of the city.”

He beams even louder. “That’s why you’re coming. With Mark!”

You gape back at him. “Did you miss the whole I-hate-him thing that happened in there?” You jab your finger towards the closed elevator doors, disbelief written across your face. He laughs. “Sometimes you can’t keep hiding behind”—he begins walking to your room, and you follow suit—“emotions, like anger. When I liked Lia, there was a point where I was just pretending to alienate her so I wouldn’t have to face that I was starting to love her. Like her. And you know, she did it right back.”

“Oh, quit it,” you scoff, insistent. “You’re lecturing me like you’ve been married a decade.”

“That’s what I want,” he says, and you gag. “The first step to that would be ski lodge trip, so you’re coming!”

You’re in front of your room now, and you pinch his wrist as he reaches for the handle, gaining his full attention. “I’ll gladly go,” you whisper, “if Mark’s out.” Daniel just laughs, shaking his head. “No, no. An overnight trip would delay your paper severely. Plus, they have two beds per room.”

“We’ll be staying in the same roo—hey, Li,” you say, quickly cutting your angry rant off when she opens the door, her face confused (to say the least.)

“Mm, hey,” she says, ushering the two of you in. “How long were you two out there?” Daniel shrugs, ruffling his hair and then pressing a kiss on Lia’s forehead. You boo from your place on your bed, buried under your duvet. “You both suck,” you holler, “always sexing it up in a sacred space. AKA my room.” Lia just grins and jumps on top of you, drawing grunts from you both. Daniel seats himself on the floor and busies himself with his phone. “How was Mark,” she whispers into your hair, and you groan.

“Bad,” you respond, “I’m so annoyed. We’re back to square one.” She makes an apologetic noise and gets up with a sigh, adjusting the strings of her pullover and then hugging Daniel. You watch them. You want to kiss Mark again. Life sucks that way.

—

Predictably, Mark turns down the offer of the ski lodge. He’s polite about it, too, especially since he and Daniel have grown a little bit closer since the start of your project. Daniel is, by no means, a “Mark anti”, but he would participate in the ribbing sometimes. Still, he’s insistent on the trip, saying it’s the best way to welcome December and that the forecast predicts a nice, thick layer of snow. It takes a week and two coffees everyday for Mark to give in, under the condition that he buy his own room when you get there.

Which, honestly, really, you have no problem with. Really, you think to yourself as you unceremoniously shove a knitted sweater into your bag. Really. Lia, who had graciously accepted the surprise, watches you abuse your bag, shoving sweater and scarf inside like they want to murder you. “Relax,” she says after a while. You laugh, playing it off (not so) casually.

The drive up there, courtesy of Daniel and a borrowed Prius, is fun, and cramped, but still decent, considering it was just an hour long. You’re in the back with Lia, and Mark is in charge of the AUX, which, of course, comes with its own bout of jokes. You even find the heart to participate and laugh in a few, not daring to meet his eyes. But all his songs are so fucking good. Frank Ocean, Jhene Aiko, SZA, and smaller indie artists flow from the speaker under his phone. The car ride has its share of epic karaoke moments—Mark plays ABBA, and Queen, solely to make sure everybody is belting out to the high heavens.

You get there when the sky’s purple and orange and there are some skiiers scattered around, though, since it’s not the proper holiday period, not too much. You trek over to the main lodge and that’s where Daniel pays for his reservations, and he and Lia retire to their room and promise to get up for dinner. You’re, again, alone with Mark in the lobby as you both stare at each other, willing the other to get up first. He does, to buy his own room like he said he would, and you can faintly hear the exchange from your seat on their nice, fluffy couch.

“I’m sorry, sir. We’re renovating a majority of the rooms for the holidays. That’s why reservations were a prerequisite for staying here.”

Mark sighs. “Okay, right. I’m so sorry. Um”—it’s at this point that you go up next to him, polite smile on your face, ready to take the room key and fuck off—“could we just get an extra blanket, please? For one of the beds.” The receptionist gives a curt smile, handing over the keycard and nodding. “That’ll be one queen-sized warm blanket, then,” she hums, typing away. The receptionist beside her goes to the back, presumably to get the blanket. Mark nods, smiling. “For two queen-sized beds, it must be a big room for both of them to fit comfortably,” he comments offhandedly, fiddling with the card.

The receptionist chuckles. “There is only one bed, sir.”

Oh, God. “Oh, God,” you whisper. “One bed?” She nods with an eye-crinkling smile, like her words have not just rained hell upon the two people across her. “One bed and a sofa,” she corrects herself, reading the information on the computer by the desk. Not wanting to risk your last shred of sanity, you smile profusely, walking quickly towards your room which, thankfully, is on the same floor, at the end of the hall. It’s a small, quaint place that would be honest-to-God perfect if not for the fact that—

“There’s one bed,” Mark sighs, the truth clicking into place. “Daniel is a fucking shithead.” You drop your bag onto the carpeted floor, surveying the room with a scrutinizing gaze. It’s sizable—a bed, a couch, a window. There’s a small wooden desk that looks like its legs can barely hold its weight, and then another door, leading to the bathroom. It’s not bad at all. But you’re exhausted, the sun’s long gone, and your resolve is shredding away as the seconds tick by. “Take the couch,” you say dismissively, “or the carpet.” You make a beeline for the bed, but Mark’s arm wraps around your waist, effectively stopping you.

Ohmygodohmygodohmygod “Shut up and let go of me, dick,” you stutter out. Mark loosens his grip and you shove him off, glaring at him. He gazes back down at you, a glint of amusement in his eyes. “We can’t just make up terms without negotiation,” he says matter-of-factly, and you blow a raspberry. “Fine. Let’s negotiate then. I’m a girl and that puts me above you because chivalry isn’t dead, thus, boom, I get the bed.”

“I was in the uncomfortable passenger seat all day and my lower back hurts,” he counters.

“My legs are wobbly.”

“Bullshit. My back aches.”

“You already said that, it’s invalid.”

The back and forth only intensifies, your arguments growing more and more bizarre, until finally, your volume is so high Lia says she can hear it faintly, four doors down.

“The couch looks comfy,” you try, but Mark stands firm.

“Do you know what? The bed is big. It’s a big bed. And we’re not going to take up much space. If we divide the bed with the sofa pillows…” you pick up the cushions and line them up neatly along the middle, “…then we can sleep beside each other without having to make contact with each other.” He seems convinced, stepping closer to the bed and nodding. “Okay. I get first dibs on the shower.”

“Asshole,” you mutter, but you let him anyway. You’ve unpacked nearly all your things and he isn’t done yet, so you’ve resorted to scrolling mindlessly through Tiktok and laughing at just about everyone that pops up on screen. Mark finally exits after what feels like forever, and you keep your eyes trained on your screen to avoid looking at him. From your peripheral vision, he is very much shirtless. There are no words exchanged, the thickness in the air only building bit by bit.

—

Three hours later, post-dinner, post-abandoning the thought of working on your paper, you’re stumbling into your room after helping the very tipsy couple of the night into theirs. You’re beyond tired now, and you can tell Mark is, too, despite the lack of eye contact or communication between you. You don’t even look at him, brushing your teeth and removing your makeup and clipping your hair up into a bun. It’s when he does the same, and you’re both in bed, using your phones, that he finally breaks the silence.

“I’m not mad,” he says. His voice is even and calm, and you quickly shut your phone off and sit up, peering over the pillow boundary you had created. You look at him expectantly before he sighs and continues. “Why did you leave?”

You stand up, getting out, trying to increase distance. You’ve never really liked confrontation. “I was weirded out,” you spill, “and scared…? I guess with the nearness of being caught, and with all the lights on, I was just shocked back to reality.”

He sits up. “What’s reality?”

“I don’t—know,” you splutter, getting back on the bed. “Not kissing you?”

He laughs, and then it becomes silent. “Right. Let’s sleep, then.” Without another word, he pulls his lamp off, and only the white moonlight is left illuminating the both of you. Shucking yourself under the covers, feeling your heart practically thump out of your chest. You honestly think he can hear it, or at least feel it. Suddenly the boundary doesn’t do much. You turn away from him, nervous, and you can faintly hear his breathing even out. You shut your eyes for a second. When you open them again, he’s looking right at you. “Just checking to see if you’re asleep,” he says quietly. You nod. And then you lean upwards, just a touch, so your lips nearly brush slightly. “Night,” you say, before turning to sleep for real.

You’re not sure when. And how. Sure, you faintly remember digging your legs sleepily through the sheets to find warmth and tangling Mark’s in your own. But still—when you’re up, the pillow fort is at your feet, hanging precariously off the four post bed, and your back is against Mark’s chest. His breath fans lightly over your hair and you blearily register what happened overnight. His arm is slung over your middle, it’s quiet, and oh Christ, he is hard.

It’s fairly late. He’s hard. The antique clock mounted up on the wall tells you it’s around nine, which essentially gave you seven hours of sleep. He’s hard. You bask in the warmth of Mark for a while before your resolve solidifies and you gently push his arm off from its position on your hips. He only comes on stronger, wrapping fully around your waist, mumbling incoherence into your hair. He’s hard. You squeeze your eyes shut, summoning sleep to overcome you quickly, but it never does. Dread overcomes you as you feel your underwear grow damp.

“Mm,” Mark grunts, his hand around your waist loosening. You move away but his head suddenly lolls into the crook of your neck, his lips touching the side of it. You whimper. He’s a fucking asshole, even when he’s asleep. You pinch his arm, jolting him to half-awakeness, and you roll away, despite your body’s protests.

He blinks his eyes open. “Sorry, shit,” he says, voice deep and ridden with sleep. You’re fucked.

“It’s okay,” you splutter instead. “Just go back to sleep.” You faintly register that you sound just as exhausted as he does, and you bury your head back into the covers. Everything, plus the sound of his voice, has you dripping, and you breathe in deeply to poorly disguise a whimper. He chuckles, already half-asleep, from where he is, and it’s quiet for a few minutes before you realize he’s fallen asleep. Knowing Lia and Daniel will be busy for a while, you pull a spare pillow over your head and chant to yourself before falling back asleep, too.

When you awaken, the bed is cold and empty, and the shower’s running. You check the time to find only an hour has passed, but you’re much more awake now, getting up and knocking incessantly on the bathroom door. “Hurry,” you demand hoarsely, “I want to go skiing.” You hear a muffled okay and scurry over to your bag to find the pair of leggings you had packed for this. You also find your parka, and you pull off your shirt to clasp on a bra.

“Not that I don’t mind,” Mark says, eliciting a yelp from you as you tug a sweater on at record speed, “but generally, that kind of thing only goes unnoticed in nudist colonies. I could research some for you, if you’d—ow! I was joking, God!” You bonk him twice over the head with the Bible on the bedside table, your brows furrowed angrily. “You looked, asshat,” you say, collecting your things and locking yourself in the bathroom.

When it becomes increasingly evident that Lia and Daniel have no plans of exiting their room, you grumble and resort to skiing alone. But as you’re shuffling out, bundled up, you spot Mark leaning against the exit waiting for you. He looks up and tsks. “About fucking time,” he says, holding the door open for you. It’s not that cold out—maybe you’re just used to having snow and chilly weather, and so is Mark—so you barely shiver, walking around and looking for a good place to ski.

“Forget skiing,” Mark says after a few rounds. “Let’s go sledding. I have a thing.”

“A toboggan, you mean.”

“A funny word. Really, just say sled.”

You let up, anyway, the bright sky and cold ground sending serotonin right into you. Sure enough, Mark does have a nice, blue sled that he lets you on, and then the two of you are bolting down the hill at breakneck speed, laughing all the way. It’s quite a long ride, and you’re smiling and yelping so much the cloth you’ve used to cover your neck has ridden down, the cold air hitting your face harshly.

You land very ungracefully—the toboggan hits a small tree and sends you and Mark catapulting in the same direction, your hands clawing at the air for expense. You find Mark’s arm and cling onto it in the split second you’re in the air, landing on a clearing of thick snow. The arm you’ve clung onto pulls you closer, Mark grunting “be careful,” and when the whole fiasco’s over, you’re smiling like an idiot, and you’re right on top of Mark.

You’re not straddling him or anything, but you’ve just happened to land with your face a little above his. You can’t stop laughing, your face flushed and red with the cold air hitting your face. So you laugh. Why wouldn’t you laugh? It was a good day. A good ride down the hill. So you keep laughing until they’re reduced to giggles, Mark laughing right along as you pull down the covering of his mouth and tug his beanie off, ruffling your hands in his hair and dipping down to kiss him.

He kisses you right back, his lips cold but quickly growing warm with the friction. You smile into the kiss, your hands roaming all over his pink face. The kiss is giggly and light, your hands all over each other as the sunlight filters in through the thick trees overhead.

You pull away after a while. “I hate you,” you whisper. He presses a kiss to your jawline and lets it linger there. “You think I don’t?”

—

Stage 3: Bargaining, Depression|

You’ve begun to type the structure out when Lia tugs on your pajamas, her tone insistent and curious. “What’s up with you and Mark?” she presses, her cheek pressed to your stomach. You fervently hope she doesnt notice how your breathing quickens, and, keeping your voice even, you answer. “We’re…thinking about things.”

Which—you were thinking about things, to be fair. There were things to be thought and you had to think about them. It was a broad half-truth. It had been two weeks since the ski lodge thing, and you and Mark had decided it was probably best to shut the fuck up about everything you had done. (Everything meaning a few kisses here and there, and maybe a little more under the covers.) You’d hated yourself for hiding it from Lia, but you and Mark were actually feeling hesitant about moving forward with whatever you were. There was a lot of ambiguity and questions, and until you could clear it up yourself, you knew you weren’t ready to tell anybody else. You had talked about it already—clearly, the two of you were beyond jumping straight into a relationship after not liking each other that much and then becoming hesitant friends.

But it was, if you had to admit it to yourself, nice having that little secret.

“I’d want to tell Lia soon,” you tease, walking steadily beside Mark. The afternoon sun is warm on your heads, the snow falling intermittently. He turns with a small smile. “I’d want to tell Hyuck, too.” You scoff, burying your head in his chest. You probably look fucking disgusting. Around you, Washington Square Park is full of natives and tourists, and college students like you, all scurrying around and giving you that very much holiday feel.

He buys you a hot cocoa and hands it to you. “Are you heading home soon?”

You take a sip, your tongue hot. “If my ratty dorm counts as home, then yes.”

“Home is a feeling, not a place. Does your ratty dorm feel like home?”

“Kind of. Lia’s there. And so is the rat infestation in the ceiling.”

Mark nearly chokes on his cocoa. “You’re gross as fuck.”

You let out a loud laugh, your beanie nearly falling off with the bounciness of it. Mark reaches behind you to catch it, pressing a kiss to your lips in the process, soft and light and God, you like it. A lot. “Clumsy,” he remarks, pulling it back on and dragging a generous amount of your hair in front of your eyes as he does it. “It’s gonna be Christmas soon, and thank God we’re nearly done with this paper.”

“It was my genius idea to combine bargaining and depression,” you quip. “That’s my gift to you. Merry Christmas, Mark Lee.” He laughs at that. His laugh, you’ve noticed, is goddamn loud, and it’s a literal cackle, but he always looks so happy when he laughs. And buoyant. “You look stupid,” you say, but the smile on your face is undeniable. He glares playfully at you, taking your hand and walking you both in the direction of your building.

“New York in the snow,” he hums. “Always a great place.”

“It’s full of tourists,” you counter. Always disagreeing.

He chuckles and then, like clockwork—like how you’ve done it for the past six dates—you separate when you’re just shy of a meter away from the lobby entrance. Your fingers curl in search of his, and you jog up the steps, eager to get into the warmth of the building. The lobby’s pretty empty, save for a couple of students. Mark’s ahead of you, already pressing the elevator button and waiting impatiently.

“We’re alone,” he sing-songs, his eyebrows wiggling. The doors open right as you take Mark’s hand, and you look up to meet Daniel’s wide eyes. Then you look to the right to meet Lia’s.

Despite your inner turmoil, you remain nonchalant, pinching Mark’s wrist instead of holding it like you’d planned. “That’s why our professor fucking hates you,” you say, narrowing your eyes. Your heart is beating a mile a minute, but you muster a neutral expression, shoving your hands back into your pockets. Lia knows you, though, and her furrowed eyebrows and parted lips say everything—but you just shrug, playing off what they could have caught you doing. “Hey,” you say, walking into the elevator with Mark. It all blows over.

AKA: Daniel has to drag a curious Lia away from you, with a promise that you would converse later. You and Mark are alone again, in the elevator, your hands barely touching, laughs loud. It’s all blurry after that. You’re high on a laugh and the thought of a kiss—you drag him over to your room, hands in his hair, breathless, loose kisses. You’re both so exhausted, though, that all you manage to extend your energy to is taking your tops off and making out lazily to the songs you’d recommended to each other.

“Mm,” he says when one of your songs starts playing. “It’s a nice song.” You nod with a smile. “I know it is, it’s one of my recommendations. It’s called Softly.” He plays with the strap of your bra. “I’ll give it more of a listen, then. Also, a red bra to school? Whatever will the professors think,” he jokes lightly, pressing insistent, but soft kisses on your shoulder. You laugh, pinching the inner part of his arm and eliciting a swear from him. “I was joking! I know you wore this for me, stupid.” The wind whistles outside, barely audible from the half-open window across the room, overlapping with the music.

This all feels too real, now.

You pout lazily against his bare chest. “Get off before Lia gets in,” you mumble, your heart beginning to race. He does, for what it’s worth, rolling off your bed with a loud thump and tugging his shirt and sweater back on. You watch him (fondly) annoyedly, your hair draping over you as you get up to properly shove him out. “Out, out,” you chant, laughing, and he giggles, turning abruptly to poke at your waist.

“Shut up,” you groan, a smile on your face. There’s a beat, then he pulls you close and kisses you, running outside right after with a literal guffaw. You watch him, wrapping your fleece blanket around your frame as he runs to the elevator, sweater backwards and hair messy.

—

Doubts are normal. This you’re assured of, but your head pounds with the sheer amount of things you’re cramming into it. You squint impossibly harder, trying to get the nail polish into the crook of Lia’s nail. You’ve probably overdone it, judging by the way she jabs her knuckle in between your eyebrows, her face contorted in worry. “Are you…okay?”

You narrow your eyes, the inner debate of telling her raging on and on. The nail polish drips onto her fingernail, rolling onto her pant leg, and she yelps, but her eyes are still on you. “You can tell me anything,” she says, softer this time. You know she’s serious—you know you can. You always have. You told her about every fling, one night stand, pregnancy scare, bad grade, hot professor, and spoiled deli food you’d encountered since you ever became friends. She knew you. And you were so sure she knew what you were about to say.

Except you didn’t know what you wanted to say. Your feelings were a mess, and you wanted one thing as much as you wanted the other. You couldn’t place what you wanted, and if you had to narrow it down, you’d realize that you were scared of what you wanted. You were never really one for commitment, or a relationship, or really anything, for that matter. And the fact that you were so hung up on thinking about what you and Mark would become—Mark? It all seemed so dystopian, almost. Like you’d never expected it. Your friendship was a childhood bubble that popped in the span of your first high school semester, and that was that. But just two days ago you were being kissed all over by the same guy you’d had a cutthroat student council president competition with.

It seemed so absurd? Crazy? Those adjectives were a little over the top. Deep down, if you dug deep enough into the parts you didn’t even tell yourself, you knew what you were. And if anybody else were to know, it would be Lia.

“I’m scared,” you choke out, your voice shaky. “I’m scared and sad, and happy and angry, and I want this but I don’t.” You cover the nail polish, shaking your head. “This is all so new to me. I hate how much I feel, especially because it feels so wrong. You know me—relationships are just not cut out for me. They’re scary and new. And people in relationships turn all gooey. I’m scared that this won’t last, but I’m scared that it will, and I’ll be doomed to an eternity of bland, padlocked relationships. It’s weird. I could be feeling this way for anyone, but it had to be Mark? If only I didn’t hate him, then maybe we could’ve gone off on a better foot. If only this whole thing never fucking happened, right?”

“It’s okay,” Lia cuts in. “Being scared is okay. It’s part of the whole process. And nobody said you had to get along like conjoined twins in a relationship. They just go when they go and end when they end. Not every relationship starts as a high school sweetheart thing and ends with three kids and a picket fence. And I’m so sure Mark would be so understanding if you didn’t like him or if you chose not to continue.”

“You knew?”

She laughs. “Of course I knew. I know a post-sex glow when I see one, and I was blinded that morning at the ski lodge.” You groan, pinching her indignantly, hiding your face in your hands as she laughs out of view. “Okay. Take some time and think about it, but for now, I want to get my nails done, so.”

—

It’ll be a week before you come up with what you want, and the whole time you generally avoid talking about solemn topics with him in person.

It’ll be another few days before you finally talk to him personally—with your paper nearly finished, you suggest a meeting at the library. It’s just two days before Christmas Eve, and you know Mark’s going to be driving to Canada, so you want to snatch him away for your own personal time for just a second. The snow has all but thickened as you meet outside the building, the silence deafening.

“Hi,” he says, smiling. You know he’s probably picked up on your erratic, quieter behavior in the past several days, but you gulp and lead him inside anyways, to your favorite section. “It’s almost Christmas Eve,” he says, watching you stall, surrounded by Philosophy books from just about every century. “I know,” you say, hoping you don’t sound too nervous.

“You sound nervous,” he says.

“Do I?” you ask shakily, your voice taking on an unnaturally high pitch. “I mean, er. I guess I sort of am. I guess I’ve been thinking about everything lately—about you and me and everything that just happened so suddenly. Because—because it did happen so suddenly. I just…needed time? Yeah, time. To think about everything. Because it all happened so quickly, I…” you stutter. “I’m scared of these things. I’m not used to them. Relationships? Things that last longer than a couple weeks? I don’t like these.

I have something bigger I want to focus on and anybody who gets in the way just isn’t worth it. And it’s so weird how it was you out of all people I started thinking about it with. Usually I just have the rare fling and then they’re gone, and I’m not even mad. But you’re different. And I like it.

But I just needed time to find out if I really liked it. If I really wanted to try. I know it’s only been a few weeks, and I probably sound really fucking stupid, but you get me—you get me, right? And that’s how I realized—if it happens, it happens. If it doesn’t, it doesn’t. I don’t know why I overthought it. I mean, it’s a good thing and a bad thing that I did. Like, on one hand, I got to really think about how this would play out, and on the other, I’d just end up spiraling. And it’s just weird. I hope you don’t know I hated you. Hate you? Hated you. I was just—it was all so juvenile. Everything just stemmed from that one awfully dumb high school rivalry. But other than that, you were always a cool…see what I mean? I’m kind of rambling—even if I thought I had planned this out. And. Yeah. I dunno. I fucking…I hate you, stop laughing.”

Mark smiles down at you—you’re busy pretending to read a Sartre book to look unfazed, but your flickering gaze says it all.

“Okay, stupid,” he says, bordering onto a laugh. “If that’s your way of saying you’re willing to give this a try, then I graciously accept. Should I be saying something equally long? I—is that how this works?”

You roll your eyes and kiss him instead, pulling him close, Sartre’s postulates dropping to the floor alongside your tiptoes.

—

Stage 4: Acceptance|

“Acceptance is just that. Just accepting that you love that person after weeks or months of all the other stages. With her, it was. Like. It’s the whole sitting down after silence, having some time for the revelation to set in before you realize you love them. Or like them? Well, love them, I guess. But I don’t know why you would be asking me this.”

You bury your head further into Mark’s shoulder, your eyes strained from how long they’d been trained onto your screen. You smile up at Daniel, thanking him for the input and beginning to type it in, watching Lia doze off on his shoulder. “We’re asking because we’re not quite there yet,” Mark hums, “it’s just February. It’s barely been two months.” You nod, watching Mark type where you left off on the document. Daniel snorts from across you. “You’re just about, I guess.” Mark chuckles, shrugging so your head bounces off his shoulder unceremoniously.

“Like I’d ever fall in love with that shitstorm,” he says pointedly.

“Oh, and I’d fall in love with this dickwad?”

“You’re perfect for each other. Bullying, but we all know Mark brought back gifts from Canada and that you stitched an initial onto his sweater.”

“To practice my embroidery. Also, I stitched Mark’s initial. M. Asshole.”

“Okay,” whistles Daniel, his hand unconsciously coming up to make sure Lia doesn’t fall off his shoulder. “But hey, you’re just about to submit this paper and I’m fondly remembering all the times you despised each other. And when you”—he points at you, devilish grin on his face—“started gushing to Lia about how he”—he then turns to Mark—“kissed you at Johnny’s party.”

“God, it’s not the time for that yet, we’re still a fresh couple,” you groan, burying your head in your hands. “You have so much dirt on me, Choi.” Mark just laughs, though, loudly, bringing the other cafe-goers’ attention to yours. He bites your shoulder to stifle it, eliciting a laugh from you. “I agree, there should be a certain time requirement for pre-relationship embarrassing stories,” Mark says, closing his laptop. Lia gets up at that point, already half-awake from the ruckus (AKA Mark’s laugh), pulling on Daniel’s sleeve. “Alright, and that’s my cue to get this girl some more coffee and then go.”

“Mm, I’ll come with,” you say, “I need a refresher before we leave soon, anyway.”

You walk in between them, your fingers laced in Lia’s as she squeezes them sleepily. They order first and then they’re off with a smile and a polite goodbye, leaving you to order your drink. You gaze up at the menu, and then down at—

“Long time no see,” Chan says with a knowing beam. “How is your not boyfriend boyfriend?”

“Well, he’s my boyfriend now.”

“See, I always know. What do you want?”

“An iced ca—how did you know?” You ask, tempted.

“It’s just…the energy? It was a hit or miss, but I kinda got that feeling that something was going to happen.”

“Hmm,” you hum. “An iced caramel then.”

“And a black coffee for her best friend!” Hollers a new voice that you could never miss, turning slowly towards the entrance to meet Donghyuck’s crazy eyes. He’s in a suit, which isn’t unusual given the sheer amount of presentations he’s had to do since the new year started. You roll your eyes but put in the extra cash anyway, much to Chan’s amusement. Hyuck nears you with a sly grin. “I hear you’ll be submitting your paper soon. I just want my name in there so I’m in your professor’s good graces.”

“She’s not even going to be your professor, Hyuck,” you say, taking your drink and smiling at Chan. You and Donghyuck both walk back to where Mark’s sitting, you beside him and Hyuck across the both of you. “Yes, but it pays to be in somebody’s good graces, I swear. See what happened? I got you two together. I orchestrated your entire love st—”

“Okay, now you’re just lying, Hyuck,” Mark says with a laugh, finishing up the first few paragraphs and closing his laptop. “We’re not even in love.” But his friend lets out a teasing smile, his eyes narrowed, and he gets up with a loud farewell and alibi about “being needed by my better friends.” You assume he’s talking about Jeno.

—

You walk to Mark’s room alongside him, thanks to the promise of his roommate, Jaemin, sleeping at a friend’s. Your fingers are intertwined loosely. The sun’s setting and Mark’s room is sheathed in beautiful shades of orange and pink, a vast array of dusk settling over the space. It happens quietly, but full of laughs, which is how it happens when you’re both tired and/or shitfaced. You do this a lot—a routine of sharing new songs or books you’d picked up over the week and then making out while they play in the background or while one of you read. It’s awfully, horribly, terribly fucking intimate.

“Your bra sucks,” he jokes.

You love it.

“Get better abs and we can talk about it,” you counter, poking his toned stomach. He really, fully guffaws at that, pulling you onto his lap and then tugging his guitar out from where it stands at the corner. You flop back onto his bed, watching him play—and then registering the familiar opening of the Jonas Brothers song you used to request nearly everyday. “Lovebug,” you muse with a smile, singing along to his voice, carried away. You’re sleepy and light, and you know deep down—in that space of yourself where you’re all but honest—that you were going to fall in love with him someday.

Later, when all you’re doing is hugging him as he reads your latest Philosophy requirement to you, he pauses.

“Is this the 21st century idea of love?” He asks idly, unclasping your bra and connecting the moles on your shoulder. You hum.

“It’s the Gen Z idea,” you say, connecting the ones on his bare back. “And this isn’t love.”

“Corny.” he smiles against your collarbones. You kiss his neck. It’s all very gradual.

—

hope you liked it :) drop an ask! I absolutely love all types of feedback

#mark lee #mark lee imagines #mark imagines #mark drabbles

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supergraphicultramoderngirl · 3 years

Text

i ain’t gonna face no defeat

in which alex was a figure skater.

word count: 2,916

some willex, juke if you squint

tw: occasional swearing, period-typical homophobic parents (q word is used as a slur exactly once)

———

“Cut off my circulation even more, why don’t you?” Alex grumbles, grabbing his arm away from his sister.

She rolls her eyes and nudges him as he adjusts the arm band. “Hey, feel lucky you’re even doing this. I don’t think Mom and Dad actually realize what you’re skating to.”

Alex hesitates and sucks on his teeth. “You think they’ll be mad?”

“Oh, they’ll be livid,” she deadpans, then smiles softly. “But they can’t stop you.” She gives him a pat on the shoulder as he leans over to pull on his boot covers. “I’m gonna head to the bleachers. Break a leg!”

Alex calls after her, not looking up, “That’s only for theater and you know it, Mel!”

A few minutes later, he’s called to the boards, and he can’t shake off his damn jitters. He knows he’ll be fine once the music starts, but right now his skate guard won’t come off and he really has to pee all of a sudden and oh my god why is he wearing a tank top when it’s so fucking cold—

Alex steps onto the ice, and the announcer calls his name while he glides into a stretch before taking his beginning pose. He ignores the way his arm, raised in a fist, is shaking while the beginning harmonies start to play, and he skates.

•••

Alex began figure skating when he was six. It was an odd situation, really; he didn’t care about doing it one way or another, and he would’ve been fine with not doing it since his parents would always say it was a girl’s sport. His little sister, Melanie, however, wanted to skate so badly, but with her being the four-year-old she was, she was terrified of doing it alone. Begrudgingly, his parents signed him up for lessons alongside her.

Much to their dismay, he was good. Like, really fucking good. He landed his first single jump after only two years, and his first axel after six. He managed to get height in a way that his coach’s other skaters didn’t; maybe it was the inner pent up anxiety making him bounce like a jumping bean, who knows.

Alex wasn’t just good at jumps, either; he got his Y-spin after four years. He was that kid on the ice who accidentally cut people off with an impeccable spiral. When he practiced his programs, the other kids would move towards the boards to give him room and sneak a glance.

As much as Alex liked the attention from his peers (god, that support system was something else), he couldn’t help but feel disappointed that his parents never sat in on his sessions. They would only ever come to the shows and competitions his sister was a part of; he had to find his own ride to the others (thank god for Bobby's parents, honestly). It had made him angry at first that they didn’t want to be involved, but as he grew older, and learned more about himself, he realized he could use it to his advantage. He could skate to anything he wanted.

Alex was 13 when he chose to skate to Somebody to Love. To anyone else, it was very unassuming, just another kid skating to a popular song at the time, maybe even a tribute, since Freddie himself had passed two months before. It was everything to Alex, though. He pulled out all of the stops; his costume was the whole armband and wifebeater getup, and his coach let him assist in choreographing it.

He didn't know it was his last program.

•••

"Hey, Alex?"

He looks up from his math homework and hums in recognition.

Mel bites her lip and leans against the doorframe before mumbling, "I wanna quit."

Quit? Shit, nonononono— "—nonononono, Mel, you can't quit! If you quit, they're gonna make me quit!"

She closes the door softly behind her and walks slowly up to him. "Alex, the only reason I've been skating for the past year was so you could keep doing it. I'm really sick of skating at this point, and I wanna switch to something else. I'll keep going if you really, really want me to, but—" She sits next to him on his bed, lowering her voice to a whisper, "You saw how they reacted to the recital, 'Lex. You think they might make you quit anyway?"

Alex sighs and squeezes his eyes shut. She's right, he knows she's right. It just fucking sucks.

He tilts his head back. "You can quit," he whispers.

Mel places her hand on his and squeezes, whispering back, "I'm sorry." Alex looks back down at her. "I really with there was something we could do, but there isn't," she continues, recollecting her hand. "At least your last program was a good one."

He gives her a sad chuckle. "Yeah, I guess so. And, I'll have more time to focus on the band. Luke'll be happy about that."

Mel rolls her eyes, takes a breath, and leaves Alex to his own devices with a pitying look.

If she hears him practicing the beat to Somebody to Love in the basement the night she officially quits, she doesn't say anything.

•••

"Julie, what are you doing up there?"

Julie throws a shoe over the wall of the loft and into the evergrowing pile on the floor. "Cleaning out all of your old junk. Which one of you had a magician phase?" she asks, holding up a cheap, ratty top hat and matching plastic wand. "It was Reggie, wasn't it?"

Alex chuckles to himself, poofing up next to Julie. "Why do you think he knew who Caleb was when we met him?"

Julie lets out a loud laugh, continuing her digging. "Are the other guys here?"

"Nah, they're looking for a gig. I just got back from the park," Alex answers.

“Just the park?” Julie asks sarcastically, and before Alex can retort, she adds on, standing up straight, “Hey, whose skates are these?”

She’s holding his old figure skates in her right hand.

The black fabric is a little faded, with the familiar scuffs still on the toe. His dark blue skate guards are all dusty, but the blades still somehow look intact, given there wasn’t much opportunity for water damage in a loft.

Alex scratches the back of his neck, ignoring the rising blush in his cheeks and bracing himself for the inevitable teasing. “Those, uh, those are mine, actually.”

Julie looks up from the boots at him in awe. “Whoa, you skated? That’s so cool!”

Alex drops his hand, mouth open in hesitation. “Really? It’s not... weird to you?”

He can recall a tight grip on his arm, firmer than the band that had been ripped off. "Alex, what made you think it was okay to pull off this kind of stunt? You don't want people thinking you're some kind of queer, do you? Why we've let you continue this is beyond me, it isn’t any good for you.”

“Why would it be weird?” Julie asks, quirking her head to the side in such a Julie way that Alex would’ve laughed if he wasn’t so worried.

He shrugs, shuffling his feet from side to side, and mumbles with a wince, “I don’t know, because I’m a guy and figure skating is like, a girly sport, I guess?”

Julie shakes her head, eyebrows furrowed with a soft smile on her face. “First off, it’s not inherently girly, and second, if it’s something that you enjoyed, then that’s what matters, right?”

“I guess so,” Alex replies, looking down at his sneakers. Is that all that matters, though? He pauses for a moment in debate, then adds on at Julie’s encouraging expression, “My parents made me quit when I was fourteen.” He takes a breath. “They were never that involved in it, though, they actually only let me because my sister did it. I, uh, after I skated to a Queen song in a full Freddie Mercury getup, they weren’t too happy, and made me quit.”

At some point in his spiel, Julie had put her hand on his shoulder, and now she was squeezing it before pulling him into a hug. “Your parents are stupid,” she mumbled into his chest.

Alex chuckles, something emotionless, a bitter taste on the tip of his tongue. “Yeah. They were.”

Julie pulls away with a gasp, a bright smile on her face. ��We should all go skating this weekend! The public rink just opened up a couple weeks ago, and I can bring Flynn so it doesn’t look like I’m talking to myself—” she falters, cutting herself off, “I mean, if you’re cool with it. I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with.”

Alex thinks back to his many (many) practice sessions, and remembers the feeling of finally getting that move right, of flying in the air for that one glorious millisecond, of seeing some of his closest friends every other day. He misses it, of course he misses it. It was his biggest outlet before he focused all of his attention on drumming. But, he can’t help but feel that stupid fucking guilt clawing at his throat, can’t help but imagine oh, so clearly the look of betrayal on his mother’s face the night he came out.

Then again, he had lived the rest of his life out of spite of his parents. Why not keep it going?

“That sounds really fun,” he replies, pulling her back in. “Thank you.”

•••

A world sans Caleb was a new one to Willie. However, it was also a very welcome one, because it was in this world that he was able to just relax with Alex in the studio, enjoying every second they spend together without worrying about the time running out.

Which is why he was (reasonably) surprised when the time ran out.

They throw Alex an impressively offended look as he removed his arm from behind their shoulder. “What?”

“Where do you think you’re going?” Willie scoffed.

Alex chuckles to himself, pressing his lips into a line. "As much as I would love to stay here and cuddle with you—" At that, Willie's face goes bright red, and Alex counts it as a win in his head, "—the band and I are going ice skating when Flynn gets here, which should be in about five minutes."

"Oh," Willie's face brightens as they reply, "sounds fun!"

Alex winces. "Yeah, making sure Luke doesn't accidentally become tangible and run over a seven-year-old while playing human bowling on the ice with Reggie is super fun." Willie laughs something golden in response, and Alex only hesitates for a moment before adding on, "Uh- actually, would you want to come with us?"

Willie grows soft, still getting used to finally being included, but quickly schools his expression before replying, "Yeah, I'd love to! Though, fair warning, I'm kind of only good at the one kind of skating?"

Alex quickly scrunches his nose. "That's fine, I'll help you," he offers, slowly untangling himself from Willie.

Willie isn't sure how much help he's really gonna be, but they figure even an amateur would be better than whatever the fuck kind of Bambi creature he is on the ice, so they nod and pull Alex up by his hand off the couch.

•••

They arrived to the rink a few minutes ago, and while Julie and Flynn are buying their rental skates and Luke, Reggie, and Willie attempt to steal some without being noticed, Alex laces up his own skates by himself on an open bench.

It isn't until after he yanks the last bow that he realizes— putting on those skates should not have been that easy.

Yeah, their clothes are usually easy to put on, and they can summon their instruments any time they want, but touching anything else usually takes an immense amount of focus. Hell, the dahlia pin Julie had bought Luke for his guitar strap took five tries to actually hook on rather than just drop to the ground.

And yet, his skates just— went on? Laced up with no problem? His foot didn't go through the sole even once? He wiggles his toes around inside the boot, and only feels the familiar push of fabric against them.

He decides not to question it, to not think about the implications of his skates possibly being attached to his soul, and tries to avoid yet another afterlife crisis as they walk toward the boards. Or, at least, he walks, while Luke just bolts onto the ice with no hesitation, and Reggie quickly follows. Alex falls back behind Julie and Flynn, who step onto the ice and begin gliding around, and Willie somehow finds their way next to him, grabbing onto his hand. They make it to the door, and Willie lets go with a small nudge to the shoulder. "Alright, hotdog, show me what you've got," he jokes.

Alex lets out a small laugh and steps out onto the ice, a weird feeling of deja-vu settling into his nonexistent bones. Once he gathers his bearings, he glides along before maneuvering closer to the middle of the ice and pulling himself into a scratch spin. It takes him a minute to really center the spin, but with the phantom tingling of blood rushing to the tips of his fingers before he pulls in completely, suddenly it's 1990 and he's doing his Lacrimosa program and he wants to try to land every jump he's ever learned, even though he knows that trying his axel right now is a horrible idea, and—

He's exited the spin now, looking back at the door to see Willie about a foot away from it, gripping the wall with a concerning amount of intensity, an odd combination of fear, shock, and something else (awe, maybe?) coming to rest on their face. He skates back over, and Willie's expression doesn't seem to change. "You—" they swallow, "—you can skate."

Alex slides his feet back and forth, his arms behind his back. "Yeah, I figure skated for eight years, actually. Did, did I not mention that?" he asks, smirking a little, knowing damn well he very much never mentioned that.

Willie closes his eyes, sucks on his teeth, and takes a breath, getting over their minor bluescreen moment. "Help me?"

"In order for me to help you, you need to let go of the boards," Alex responds. Willie looks at the boards, then back at him, eyebrows furrowed. "It'll hurt a lot more falling into two flat surfaces rather than one," Alex reasons, and Willie hesitates before finally letting go.

"There we go," Alex says softly, taking both of Willie's hands in his. He begins to slowly pull them along, not caring about passing through lifers, while Willie's feet slip and slide beneath him. Alex tries his hardest not to laugh, and Willie quips, "I thought I was supposed to be the athletic one."

Alex scoffs, "Who told you that? Are you the one lugging around an entire drumset every weekend?" At Willie's laugh, Alex tacks on, "I didn't think so."

They make a full lap around the rink before Alex lets go, having to prevent Luke and Reggie from pulling on some little girl’s milk boxes to make her go faster, because no, that’s not how physics works, and yes, people will notice, Luke.

After, Willie moves to get off at the boards, and Alex pulls a disappointed pout. Willie just motions toward the ice, saying, "I know you didn't just come here to pull me around the whole time, I wanna see your turns and stuff."

Alex hesitates, "But I don't want to leave you here by yourself—"

He’s cut off by a familiar harmony playing in the background, and Luke and Reggie poof by his side in an instant. Alex barely has any time to register it before Reggie is putting a hand on his shoulder and Luke is asking if he’s okay.

And Alex doesn’t know how to answer that right away, if he’s being honest. At first, he thinks he might not be, because all he remembers is scolding, leaving, hiding, but he reminds himself it’s 2020 and he’s a ghost; that his parents are as involved in what was left of his life now as they were when he came out— not at all. The feeling of freedom starts to envelope him; the same freedom as when he danced with Dirty Candy at Eat ‘n’ Beats, the same freedom as when he played the drums at the Orpheum, and the same freedom he had before his last recital. He takes a deep breath.

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m okay,” Alex replies, trying to hide his newfound itching to just get back out there.

Reggie drops his hand from his shoulder with a smile; meanwhile, Luke catches notice of Julie and Flynn starting a mini snow fight, to which he immediately races over and shouts, “I want in!” Reggie just shrugs and poofs over. Whether to stop him or join, the world may never know.

Alex rolls his eyes at his friends’ antics and looks back over at Willie, anxious energy seemingly radiating off of him— except, not as it usually does; now it was more excitement than anything else.

“Go show off, Alex,” Willie says, shooting him away with a smile.

Alex unsuccessfully tries to suppress the overwhelming giddy feeling that rises in his chest, and he skates. Again.

Finally.

#i ain’t gonna face no defeat fic #jatp #julie and the phantoms #alex mercer #willex #willie jatp #jatp fic #willex fic #mari writes #my fic #my fics

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taizi · 3 years

Note

Hi! I love your works! 71 + 72 for Luffy and Jinbei?

PROMPTS LIST

71. “I’m going to protect you.”

smile again

As a watchdog journalist, Jinbei's work takes him everywhere. He isn't always in the best position to receive phone calls. Sometimes, depending on what story his group decides to chase after and what far-flung corner of the world it leads them to, Jinbei goes weeks without internet access.

By the time he gets news of the accident, Luffy has been out of the hospital for a month and Ace has been dead just as long.

Jinbei has to go home.

His colleagues-- a group of solid, hard-working people he's known for going on twenty years, has worked with on the field and off, in smoke and fire and claustrophobic office spaces-- are entirely understanding.

Tiger drives him to a small airport, the truck bouncing along a bumpy gravel road. There's a single, hastily-packed duffel in the bed of the pickup. Jinbei isn't even sure what he shoved in there, having only made one mindless pass through his room. He would have left without his passport if Hatchan hadn't shoved it into his hands on his way out the door.

"It may be time for me to retire," Jinbei says aloud. His mind is ebbing and rising like a tide, a vast ocean of grief. Thoughts go bobbing away like loose buoys before he can get a grasp on them.

All he can think of is the last video-call he made home, over a month ago now. Ace and Luffy, pressed cheek-to-cheek so they'd both fit in-frame, competitive in all things and unwilling to take turns, even as Jinbei laughingly promised he had plenty of time to talk.

They made him promise to call again soon. He meant to.

"Don't worry about us over here," Tiger says. His eyes are on the road, hands tight around the steering wheel. He carries Jinbei's grief like it's his own. "Just worry about your boy."

His boy, Jinbei thinks. Not by blood or by law, certainly, but by something less quantifiable than that. Those scrappy kids that spilled into his yard one muggy summer evening, hiding in the hedges from their well-antagonized CPS caseworker and somehow claiming a piece of Jinbei's heart from the moment he first laid eyes on them.

Ace was so angry back then, and Luffy was so easily frightened, and they clung to each other in a practiced way, as if they were so used to the world trying to claw them apart that they didn't expect anything else, even from a perfect stranger. They didn't seem to know what to do with kindness. Ace watched Jinbei like a hawk for weeks, long after Luffy warmed up to him. His trust, when he finally gave it, felt like a prize.

Jinbei was working long, unpredictable hours, and knew it wouldn't be fair to drag two children into his household if he couldn't afford them the time and care they deserved-- but after school? Weekends? Holidays? Those he gave up freely.

His days gained some semblance of routine again, for the fist time since he finished college. His kitchenware came down from the cupboard, the pockmarked kitchen table was often set for three. He made dinner at home, more than he ate in the office with his colleagues.

Hell, his colleagues ate dinner with him at home more often, too. Within an hour of meeting the boys, each of Jinbei's friends, to a man, would have taken a bullet for either of them, no questions asked.

The sense of structure did wonders for the brothers. With a safe place to return to when they needed it, and someone to fall back on, Ace stopped looking at every potential foster home as if it was a threat. Luffy came out of his shell, bolder with each new day. He made a friend in the village, a boy with vivid green eyes, and they hardly spent a moment apart.

They were finally placed with a couple who lived nearby. Shanks was wry and good-natured, and Benn had the patience of a saint. After a few weeks, when Jinbei asked how they were settling in, his worries were soothed: Luffy clearly adored them, and even Ace grudgingly admitted they weren't so bad.

And when the time came, and Ace applied for emancipation as well as custody of his brother, he had a small army in his corner. A patchwork family collected in little bits and pieces, ready to support him through anything.

"I will always be here for you both," Jinbei had promised him, countless times. "You'll never be alone as long as I'm alive."

"Thank you," Ace said, a little bashful. But he was so pleased, and so full of hope for the future, and he said, "I'll feel better, knowing someone's around to look after Luffy if I can't."

He immediately got shouted down by his entire strange extended pseudo-family for daring to suggest they'd ever let anything happen to him, and it made him laugh so brightly, and now the memory sticks like needles in Jinbei's throat.

Tiger hugs him hard before Jinbei boards the plane. In the back of his mind, where there is a tiny corner free from drowning, Jinbei can't help but wonder when he'll see his friend again.

He keeps thinking of that last video call. He can't remember everything they talked about. He doesn't think he said enough. He almost certainly didn't tell Ace everything he deserved to hear. Foolishly, he assumed there would be another time.

He's learned from this. He won't take it for granted any more.

"Call me when you land," Tiger says. "Give the monkey our love."

"I will," Jinbei replies. His heart is so heavy he doesn't know how he manages the steps onto the plane. He doesn't know how the pilot manages to lift them up from the tarmac. It's a wonder they aren't sinking, straight through the earth.

Nami and Usopp are waiting for him at the airport, wide-awake even though it's well past two o'clock in the morning. They're familiar to Jinbei from the stories Luffy has told him, from the numerous video calls they've bullied their way into over the years, and the handful of birthdays and holidays Jinbei was able to make it home for.

"Luffy wanted to come with us to pick you up, but he fell asleep," Usopp says, apropos of nothing, as they're waiting for their Uber. "Sanji said it was a small miracle, and Zoro looked like he was going to hunt us for sport if we even thought about waking him up, so--"

"He hasn't been sleeping, then?" Jinbei asks quietly.

"After he came home, he was on some pretty heavy meds, and he slept a lot," Nami says. Her arms are folded tight against her chest in the nighttime chill, her eyes trained somewhere far away. "But he had bad dreams and he would wake up disoriented. Now he fights sleep tooth and nail."

"We've all sort of become the insomnia squad," Usopp pipes up. "Thank god I'm not taking any classes this summer."

"Sanji's gotten really good at making lattes," Nami adds with a small smile. "Wait till you see his shiny new espresso machine."

"I'm like eight-five percent sure he stole it from the Baratie."

Jinbei listens to their chatter, feeling at once anchored by them and adrift at sea. It makes sense that they would be ahead of him. They've been here all this time, practically from the moment of the accident, facing it with all the bravery and endurance of sailors in a typhoon. Jinbei, meanwhile, had been living in an unchanged world.

For the last month, Ace has been dead. How many times had Jinbei thought about him? Mentioned him to a friend? How many times had Jinbei wrongly said his name in the present-tense?

The house is warmly-lit when they arrive, but quiet. An old blue Irish wolfhound greets them at the door, wagging his tail. Robin looks up from the papers she has spread out on the coffee table and smiles. Chopper is fast asleep beside her, his head on her shoulder. Behind them, Jinbei can see Sanji at work in the kitchen, shaping dough. Something is baking that smells of cinnamon and apples.

They weren't kidding about their sleep schedules being a mess.

"Hello, Jinbei. It's good to see you," Robin says. Her voice is soft, in deference to the sleeping teenager. "Luffy is asleep, but you can see him if you like."

"Please," Jinbei replies hoarsely.

"I'll take him," Nami says. "Usopp, would you bring his bag to the guest bedroom?"

"'Course," Usopp replies, but he makes a detour into the kitchen first.

Nami takes Jinbei's hand and leads him toward the stairs. "I feel really stupid about this, but I was so angry at you," she admits as they make their way up. "It's hardly the first time we haven't been able to contact you, and I know why that is. But-- I don't know, I think I was going crazy. I wanted Luffy to have everything he wanted. I wanted everyone who loved him to be here every time he woke up. So I-- so there might be some angry emails waiting for you, but please don't hate me for it."

"I won't even read them," Jinbei promises gravely, his heart cleaved clean in two. "I can't imagine how-- how hard it must have been. I-- if I had gotten the messages sooner-- "

"I know," Nami assures him, pausing outside a closed bedroom door. "Franky spoke to you like six hours ago, and you're already here. You dropped everything to be here. We know the kind of person you are."

She stands up on tiptoe to kiss his cheek, and Jinbei bends to accommodate her, the same way he does for Koala. Then Nami reaches out and pushes open the door.

Zoro is awake, sitting against the headboard with his phone in hand and earphones in, and his eyes are as bright and sharp now as they were when he was a child. He looks up when the door opens, and seems to relax when he sees Jinbei stepping in behind Nami.

"Go to sleep," Nami whispers, pointing at the second bed across the spacious room.

"Don't tell me what to do," Zoro replies, just as quiet, but he pulls his earphones out and extracts himself from the bed with all the exacting precision of a bomb disposal technician. Nami takes him by the arm, helping him get up so carefully that the mattress hardly moves. It's such a well-practiced maneuver that Jinbei thinks he honestly might cry.

"If one of you would stay for a bit, I'll grab a shower," Zoro says.

"Sure, stinky," Nami says, nudging him toward the door. "Jinbei?"

He nods, unsure of what he's agreeing to. Now that he's finally next to Luffy, nothing else seems to exist. He sinks into the chair beside the bed, only half-aware of Nami and Zoro leaving. Their murmured conversation is cut off by the closing door. The room is silent, save for the gentle, unobtrusive sound of Luffy's steady breathing.

He's lost weight since Jinbei saw him last. There are shadows on his face that don't belong there. He looks both older and younger than he has any right to, even now, when his face is untroubled and slack with sleep.

"Hello, little monkey," Jinbei says. His voice is quiet, but it still breaks. He's crying, he realizes, thick tears rolling down his face with abandon. "I'm sorry it took me so long."

He thinks of two little boys, spilling into his life on accident, taking up room in his home and his heart as if they always belonged there. They weren't his, not really, but he loved them anyway. Loves them still.

"I'm here now," he whispers. His hands are shaking. "I'm going to protect you, like I promised. I'm here, Ace. Please believe me, wherever you are. I won't fail you again."

#one piece #op #opfic #knight of the sea jimbei #cat burglar nami #god usopp #my writing #smile again #i woke up and chose violence #but i mean a couple people were wondering where jimbei was so u brought this upon urselves

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scabopolis · 3 years

Note

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Hope that I do this properly 🙃

I would adore a XO between Veronica Mars (LoVe) & Once Upon a Time (C/S).

PROMPT: "I’m really competitive and drunk and I just told a rival that my relationship is way better than theirs, but they don’t believe you exist (but I’m too stubborn to admit they’re right)" OR really anything you'd like. Honestly, I'm dying to see Logan and Killian interact/co-swagger.

And / or another installment of "Come Rain or Come Shine" from In Lovers Meeting because I love it with my whole ❤️.

Thank you so much for doing this. You made my day,

😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍😍

Oh @jjmazzy you bring my heart so much joy! I didn’t feel quite up to the task to do a crossover between OUaT and Veronica Mars so I went straight for a OUaT AU. I hope that’s okay?

This is just a silly little thing that I am realizing only fulfills about 40% of the prompt, but I think it’s cute??

ANYWAY! Enough hemming and hawing xx *** Title: Of Expats and Onion Rings Rating: PG Fandom: Once Upon a Time Pairing: Killian Jones/Emma Swan (mentions of Robin/Marian and a smattering of other characters) Additional Tags: Two out of three of my OUaT fics feature Killian as a bartender, silliness and only half a prompt, probably way more fluff than is medically recommended Word Count: 1,500

Every Friday night, Emma Swan sits on the same barstool at the same bar in the same restaurant. This Friday night has her staring into space as she lets the sounds from the kitchen and the bar swirl around her. It’s busier than usual, with almost all the booths and tables filled and the bar area half-occupied. In fact, when she first walked into the bar, she worried there wouldn’t be a seat for her. But the bartender caught her eye and waved her over, a menu and a glass of water waiting for her in her usual seat at the end of the bar.

Said bartender slides her an Old Fashioned, extra maraschino cherries on the toothpick per usual.

She takes a small sip of the drink. “Why is it so busy?”

Killian’s eyes roam about the room and then come back to rest on her. “Some magazine labeled us the best kept secret in Portland, Maine.”

“And in doing so—”

“Assured that we would never be a secret again. Yes.”

“The pitfalls of fame.”

“Burger or chicken sandwich?”

“Burger. Any chance—?”

“Aye, probably a very good chance, but only because Graham is sweet on you.”

Emma feels her cheeks redden. “He’s not sweet on me.”

“Sure he isn’t.”

She watches Killian step away from the bar and into the kitchen to talk to Graham. How Graham can manage to listen to anything given the noise of the dining room and the kitchen she’ll never know. Graham and Killian both look over at her. Graham rolls his eyes but nods, and Emma raises her glass in thanks.

“Okay,” she says to Killian when he’s back at the bar. “He might be a little sweet on me.” She takes a long sip of her cocktail.

Killian’s brow is knit with concentration. “Long day?”

She nods. “I had a run in with Zelena.”

“Ah. The wicked witch of the northeast. What’d she do this time?” The ticket printer next to Killian’s till spits out a long drink order, but he listens even as he mixes drink and pours glasses of wine.

“She got engaged over the weekend and hasn’t shut up about it. And today, she took great pains to ask me, in front of everyone in the faculty lounge, if I’d be okay if she didn’t give me a plus one.”

“Bit rude, isn’t it?”

“Right? But then she kept going on and on asking how long it’d been since I dated someone, and did I know that after 35, forty-five percent of women’s eggs are considered genetically abnormal and her fiancé is a very wealthy furniture manufacturer and she’s certain he has some less attractive less wealthy friends he could introduce me to and on and on and on.”

“Does she truly want you at her wedding?”

“Oh, yes. She said she wouldn’t take no for an answer.” She runs her finger along the condensation of her glass. “Which is when I did something very very very stupid.”

“Smacked her?”

Emma snorts. “I wish. No I—” Her explanation is interrupted by the arrival of her burger and the plate of special order onion rings. Onion rings which are technically available only as an add-on to the steak sandwich but that Emma has a 80% success rate of cajoling the kitchen to make her a plate of.

She eats her meal with one eye turned to Killian, waiting for a long enough lull in the drink tickets to finish her story. She’s almost finished her burger when Killian slides another Old Fashioned in front of her.

“What was this very stupid thing you did?” he asks, leaning towards her.

“I told her I was dating someone.”

Killian remains where he is but she notices the clench of his jaw. “Ah,” he says. “I was unaware.” He seems to hear his own words as he says them because he cringes. “Not that there’s a reason you would tell me. I mean, we’re friends, but friends in that way that I get you drinks and —”

Emma rests a hand on Kilian’s to stop the rambling. “I’m not. Dating anyone, that is.”

“Then why—?”

“It just popped out. I’m not sure who was more surprised, me or Zelena.”

“So, this fake boyfriend of yours. Just who is he?”

“Well, okay, so this makes sense when you remember it’s Friday, and I knew I’d be coming here.”

“Right,” he says, equal parts cautious and curious.

“I told her my boyfriend was British.”

Killian shakes his head.

ExPats has been her weekly haunt for close to a year now and while not everyone who works there is a British expatriate, with Killian as bar manager, Robin as front of house manager, Graham as chef de cuisine, and Phillip as pastry chef, it kind of feels that way.

“And that he had blue eyes,” she continues.

“Ah, I see,” he says, teasing her. “Are you telling me you’re sweet on Graham too?”

“Not Graham.”

“In that case, Marian is likely going to have a big problem with you trying to date her husband.”

“And, uh,” she clears her throat, “I told Zelena he has dark hair.”

Killian wings an eyebrow. “How dark?”

“Uh, right about your color probably.”

“My color?”

“Probably. I said probably.”

“Interesting.” Emma takes a sip of her drink. There’s a delicious, hazy feeling brought on from the second cocktail washing through her veins. “So, you and I are dating?” he asks.

“Stupid. It was so stupid.”

“I wouldn’t say that. I mean, I’ve been meaning to ask you out for months now. This might be just the little push I need.”

“What?”

“What did you just say?”

“What now?” he asks in return, the picture of innocence.

“You’ve been trying to ask me out?”

“Not as such, no.”

“Oh.” She sinks back in her seat, disappointed.

“I didn’t want to risk you running scared and not being here every Friday night.”

Emma perks right back up again. “Oh?”

“You already said that, love.”

Emma looked down at her plate, the remnants of the crispy bits from her onion rings on her plate. Something occurs to her then. “Graham doesn’t give these to me because I want them. Does he?”

“Excuse me?”

If she’s not mistaken the tips of his ears have gone a little red. She loves his little elf ears. “He makes these for me because you ask him. Don’t you?”

“I might have told him they bring you an inordinate amount of joy.” He scratches idly at a spot on his arm. “And that it brings me an inordinate amount of joy to see how happy they make you.”

“Did you know my weekly ExPats date used to be on Wednesdays?”

She can see him try to mentally adjust to the change of direction in the conversation. “Really?”

“I only came in a few times, but then one week, I had parent/teacher conferences so I came on Friday. And there you were.” Emma shrugs. “Your Old Fashioned is better than Will’s.” She bites off one of the maraschino cherries from the toothpick. “Your smile is better, too.”

“Emma, darling, are you flirting with me?”

“What? Suddenly it’s a crime to flirt with my boyfriend?”

Killian laughs and it makes her heart hum. She likes the clean line of his throat as he tilts his head back. “Your boyfriend? I don’t suppose you’d want to go out on a date with, then?”

“I’m free on Wednesday.”

“Funny that,” he says. “That happens to be my day off.”

“Is it?”

Emma would be content to sit at this bar all night and let Killian smile at her and make her drinks. It seems like Killian is having similar thoughts, until something seemingly flies out of nowhere to hit him in the back of the head.

Killian reels around to find Robin standing there, arms folded across his chest.

“What’d you throw at me, you git?” Killian asks.

“A dinner roll.” Robin gestures at the drink ticket printer. A ticket printer which has at least 10-tickets waiting to be fulfilled. “Pardon, Emma. Mind if he stops flirting with you long enough to fulfill the drink orders?”

“You’re fired,” Killian says.

“For the last time, mate, you can’t fire me. My name is on the lease right next to yours.”

“Murder it is, then.”

“Make the nice customers their cocktails and then you can murder me.”

Robin walks away, and Emma notices it’s not just her at the bar who finds herself charmed by the whole display between the two men. She thinks she might see a small group of women sneakily taking a cell phone video, giggling as they watch it through.

“Emma, I’m sorry, but I—”

She waves him off. “Do your thing. I’ll be here.”

“Yeah?” he asks, and when she nods, he beams. “Good, because if we’re in a committed relationship I’m probably going to need your phone number.”

“Pour the drinks, you goon.”

#FOR YOU JJMAZZY #killian jones #emma swan #captain swan #cs fanfiction #ouat fanfiction #p: emma x killian #never stories

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imagines-r-s · 3 years

Text

sticking it - j. farabee

chapter 5

a/n: um, y’all might not like me once again, but it’s good for character development. (also i had to repost bc the tags weren’t working, so if you’re seeing it again, don’t stress)

taglist: @butgilinsky @barbienoturbby @sunsetholland @lovenhlboys @sortagaysortahigh @hockey-racing-fubol @oopsiedoopsie23 @iwantahockeyhimbo @bbbbruins @dreamsndior

warnings: angst. angst. plot twist a tad bit more angst. kathryn. sad joel. simp joel. simp nation for both of them. (nicole being the bestest friend ever. adrian being adrian *chef’s kiss*)

sticking it masterlist

wc: 4.5k (these keep getting longer and longer)

(gif not mine)

“Ok, ladies. There’s exactly one week until the U.S Classic. For the Junior Division, the few of you that are here right now will be getting exposure to bigger competitions that you will have in the future. This week the three of you are going to be hitting a few routines on each event and then marking the rest of them. We’re not throwing any new skills into the mix, we’re just taking this week to perfect what we have.

For the two of you in the Senior Division, perfection before progress is our motto for this week. We’re not throwing anything huge or difficult, we just perfect routines and move on. For all of you, sometime this week, we will have a mock competition where you’ll go and perform each event as if it were at a meet. Afterwards, if there’s anything a coach tells you to work on or if there’s anything you fall on, you’ll go back and work on that skill or event,” Michelle told everyone as you did your morning line up, “alright, you all know which event to start on first, so let’s just go and have a good week.”

Shortly after that, everyone went to their first event. For many, they went to the event that needed the most work, but you decided to avoid the event that you needed the most work on, instead heading to work on bars first.

“Is there a particular reason that you’re not working your beam dismount?” Nicole asked, as the two of you got chalk.

“No. I’m just working what I need to,” you said.

“y/n, c’mon, that dismount is what needs the most work right now. I understand if you don’t want to work anything major, but you haven’t even done a triple off the actual beam yet. I just don’t want you to beat yourself up for not working it.”

“It’s fine, Nicole. I’ll figure it out,” you left Nicole at the chalk box and started working on your bar routine. Nicole watched as you started your routine, you were making subtle mistakes that she wouldn’t have picked up if she wasn’t watching you so intently.

She winced as you fell on a release skill, a skill that you could easily do in your sleep. Watching as you took a deep breath before getting back on the bar, doing the rest of your skills, and not missing the way your face slightly twisted in pain from the impact of the landing of your dismount.

As you made your way back to the chalk box, she also saw the slight falter in your steps. “Dude, is your knee okay?”

“Yeah, it’s fine. I just landed weird, I’ll walk it off eventually.”

“y/n, look. I’m just putting this out there, but don’t be afraid to take a break.”

“I don’t exactly have time for breaks right now, but thanks,” you huffed before leaving to work a few skills in your bar routine. Nicole knew you well enough to know that you weren’t doing okay, you hadn’t been since you came back from the lake. You hadn’t exactly told her what had happened, but she knew it had to have happened while you were gone. You were never one to talk about your feelings and she was never one to push you to talk.

The rest of practice couldn’t have gone worse. There was wobbling on basic skills, missed landings, and lots of falling. Lots and lots of falling. Worst of all, anytime you would get on the beam to do the dismount, you would psych yourself out, until you eventually would give up and go back to a different event.

You knew it wasn’t just gymnastics that was stressing you out right now, there was the stress of Kathryn competing the skill that you had worked your ass off to get and when you were about to get the credit for doing said skill, you got hurt; there was the fact that the U.S. Classic was indeed a week away and the first of five practices right before had gone terribly; and then there was the stress of the fact that you pushed away the one person that only wanted what was best for you.

As you drove home, you had a simple plan of going straight to bed as soon as you got home. You didn’t want to have to deal with all your thoughts racing right now and although you were avoiding something with sleep, you thought it might be the best option for right now. Once you got inside your apartment, you kicked off your shoes, grabbed one of your smoothies from the fridge, and made a beeline towards your room.

The next practice went almost the exact same; falling on basic skills, not going for the dismount, and your mind being a thousand miles away. You were hopeful that whatever was going on wasn’t super obvious, but by the time practice was over Marcus had pulled you into his office to talk to you.

“What’s up?” you asked, walking into his office and closing the door behind you.

“What’s up with me? No, we’re here to talk about you. Like what the fuck is going on with you right now?”

“I’m just stressed about this weekend that’s all,” you shrugged.

“Look, I’ve known you long enough and I’ve seen you when you’re nervous about a comp and it never looks like this. So, I’m asking again, what’s going on with you right now?”

“There’s nothing going on, I’m telling you,” you practically yelled.

“y/n,” he sighed, “we let you have a break because you were doing fine other than your dismount, which you were making progress on, but now, you’re just going backwards instead of forwards. I don’t know what happened or what’s going on - and I’m assuming you don’t want to talk about it - but whatever it is needs to get figured out. If you can’t do at least five triple dismounts in the next two days, you’re just doing your double back dismount and you aren’t working the 3.5.”

“Wha-? Marcus, what the fuck? No, that’s not fair.”

“It’s perfectly reasonable actually, if you aren’t doing them at practice, you aren’t competing it. I have always made that clear. Right now, your head is not in what you’re doing, and it’s fairly obvious the only thing motivating you is that Kathryn might be competing it and with how your attitude is right now, that combo will only end in bad news.”

You knew he was right, he had known you long enough to know the way you got in your head about anything, so right now with the combo of everything going on, it made sense. “Marcus, I’ll drop the attitude, whatever. But I can’t deal with what will happen if she competes that dismount this weekend.”

“Ok, you say that, but I want proof. The words coming out of your mouth mean nothing, unless I see you actually doing what you say you will. I love you and I want you to be able to say that skill that hurt you is now named after you, you deserve that, but right now, you’re wearing yourself out trying to prove yourself and it’s only hurting you. You need to figure out whatever is going on up here,” he said, pointing to his head, “before you can work out the physicality of it. Now you have tomorrow to do those five dismounts and if you don’t do them, we’ll work them after this competition.”

Not trusting your voice right now, you simply nodded your head before turning and leaving his office towards your car. Taking deep breaths, you finally sat down in your car, closing your eyes for a moment as your eyes had started watering. Right now the pile of things going on in your life was just growing and you knew if tomorrow’s practice didn’t go good, you would be a wreck.

Pulling out your phone, your first instinct was to go to your messages and text Joel, but something in you was telling you that it was way too soon and that you would only get no response in return. So, instead, you pulled up Spotify and turned on one of your sad playlists just to really set the mood.

…..

You weren’t aware of it, but it wasn’t just you that was a mess. Joel had started packing his stuff as soon as he got back to his room, he knew there was no way he would be able to see you the next day without yelling or crying or letting out whatever emotion he was feeling. He didn’t really even know what he was feeling. Heartbreak? Anger? Sadness?

He couldn’t even wrap his head around what had happened. He had firmly believed when he asked what was going on between the two of you, that you would say something more - anything more - than just friends. Maybe he had been naive, interpreted the situation wrong, but everything was pointing in the right direction.

If you had said anything other than what you had, he would have understood. You want to focus on gym? Ok, he’ll be there on the sidelines supporting you. You can’t do a relationship with everything else going on in your life? Ok, we’ll take time and figure stuff out. But with the certainty that you said the two of you were nothing more than friends, knocked every expectation he had out the window.

He wasn’t saying that he was the perfect guy, he knew he was far from it, but he wanted to figure things out with you being there beside him. Maybe not for the long run, but for the time being he was perfectly fine with what was going on.

As soon as he got home from the lake, he kept to himself for a few days, only coming out because he had a practice. He tried to keep up with everything, but somehow his motions were too slow and he wasn’t catching onto what was happening around him quick enough. Everyone around him was noticing that something was off, but nobody - not even those that were at the lake - knew what was up.

The practices they had that week all kinda played out the same, Joel, who was usually on top of everything and one of the most consistent players, wasn’t playing the way he usually did. Everyone on the team was worried based off of how practices were going, but anytime they tried to talk to him, he simply brushed it off or left before an actual conversation could start.

There were nights that he laid in bed and ended up with your contact pulled up on his phone, or he saw something funny that he knew would make you laugh, but right now, he didn’t know how he should react to what had happened. He didn’t know the rules that he had set in place by walking away that night.

With games on both Wednesday and Thursday that week, he knew he needed to step up. He had to put his feelings aside and be there for his team. That plan worked out well during the Wednesday night game, he didn’t score, but he was able to be there for his team. With the emotions that came from a win, he was able to ignore everything else he felt for at least a while.

Thursday's game did not play out the same way. Joel was making simple mistakes that cost him from making goals and he wasn’t happy about it. He caught a few too many penalties that night and was almost benched because of it. The Flyers lost against the Capitals by one point, which brought down everyone’s mood.

“Yeah, y/n/n isn’t doing all that great right now. She’s not doing any of her dismounts that she needs to and I guess Marcus said she had to do so many or else she wasn’t competing them, but I haven’t heard if she got them done. So, we’ll see how that goes tomorrow,” Joel overheard Kevin tell Nolan.

“She competes tomorrow night, right?” Nolan asked, as he grabbed his bag.

“Yeah, you still want to come? I think she could really use that pep talk.”

“Yeah, yeah, of course, dude. Teeks has plans with Karly, so it’ll just be us, I think.”

Joel wanted to say something, but he didn’t think you’d want him there. To put it simply, he did miss you, but he just wanted an explanation of what had happened. That night as he had your text messages open, he could have sworn he saw the bubbles that meant you were typing show up.

…..

A knock at your door broke you out of your thoughts, knowing that it was Kevin who was knocking you quickly opened the door and made your way back to your room, “well, hello to you, too, y/n/n. You really know how to make visitors welcome.”

Kevin quietly followed behind you to your room, quickly taking notice of how you had decided to empty out your gym bag on your bed and lay all your leos out on your bed, “so, how was practice this morning?” Kevin asked, softly.

“It was practice,” you said, grabbing your hairspray from your bathroom.

“Scale of 1-10?”

“3.25.”

“That’s specific?”

“Well, some good things happened and some didn’t so, there we go,” you grabbed your garment bag out of your closet.

“Did you do the dismounts?” Kevin asked, watching as you visibly tensed.

“No and Marcus is making me do my stupid back up dismount because I can’t do the twisting dismount. And now Kathryn is going to do the dismount, and get it named after her, and she’ll have that over me. Plus, everything with Joel is kinda up in the air right now and I don’t know what to do about that one.”

“What happened with you and Beezer? Are you just going to waltz around the issue or are you going to tell me what happened? It stays between us, but if it’s something I need to beat up Beezer for, just ask nicely.”

You rolled your eyes, but you knew you would have to talk it out sooner or later, “uh, after you guys left, me and Bee had a discussion about what we were, and I said we were just friends.”

“Oh, damn. Shit, I mean, wow, truly remarkable.”

“Shut the fuck up, Kev. I get it.”

“Ok, so I’m going to assume that Beezer wasn’t too happy about it?” Kevin asked, earning a nod from you, “so, you just didn’t talk it out like civilized individuals or am I missing something here?”

“Well, more than just the flirting happened, nothing super crazy, but yeah, so he was very - understandably - upset by me saying we were just friends.”

“And again, you guys didn’t just talk it out like civilized individuals?”

“No, he was gone before I could talk to him.”

“Don’t you kids have phones or something? You guys aren’t going to figure shit out if you don’t talk to each other?” Kevin asked, like it was the most obvious option.

“Yeah, I know, but like,” you sighed, “yikes. You know. What the fuck do I say ‘hey Bee, I was actually just joking when I said that. Haha, you’ve been pranked’ not exactly a smooth recovery, you know.”

“You’re helpless. I think you should focus on the competition that you have tomorrow and worry about the bigger problems later. C’mon, I’ll help you pack,” and once he knew that you were all ready for your competition, he made his way back to his apartment.

…

Stepping out of the arena’s locker room stall, you made your way over to the sink to do your hair and makeup. You stayed by the sink, considering that Nicole was still changing, when the one person you didn’t want to talk to stood right beside you, “hey y/n. How’s that dismount coming?”

“How’s your mom coming?” you replied, plastering a fake smile on your face.

“Awe, wow, that’s real mature of you. I know you’re just upset that your beloved plan of getting your dismount named after you isn’t going the way you wanted and to think if you didn’t get hurt, you’d have it named after you already. Hm, how devastating.”

“Ooh, Kathryn, impressive vocabulary. I’m glad to see you finally opened that thesaurus I got you.”

“Look, y/n, I know that you’re just projecting negative emotions because you’re upset that I compete on beam before you do. It’s okay, we all feel bad sometimes,” Kathryn added.

“Oh, and she’s learned about projecting negative emotions. I’m very impressed.”

“y/n, you’re just mad because everyone knows that you’re burning out and that you shouldn’t have tried to make a comeback after your injury. Get over it or get out of this sport,” she said before walking away.

Staring up at the ceiling to keep whatever emotions you could at bay, you didn’t notice Nicole come up right beside you, “you know what she said wasn’t true, right? You’re proving to everyone just how amazing you are by coming back, please don’t let that bitch get to you.”

“No, but she’s right about the dismount. Right now, I’m not where I need to be and people are noticing. I shouldn’t be here,” you said, finally looking her in the eye.

“y/n. Stop. Seriously, this pity party is not going to work today. You’re going to go out there and kick ass, like you always do. I don’t care if she’s doing the dismount, we’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. Now, shut the fuck up and go out there and prove her and anyone else that doubts you wrong,” she said, “we’re not leaving here until I see a genuine smile on your face.”

Laughing at your best friend, you made your way out to the tunnel for your pre-competition rituals. Eventually, Nolan and Kevin made their way towards you, which did lift your spirits a lot. Nolan gave you your usual pep talk and talked you through all your routines until they called out the announcement for warm up to start.

Starting on vault, you did two of the best vaults you could, you weren’t going to let Kathryn get to you today. When you were warming up on bars, you noticed Kathryn warming up on beam. Taking a deep breath, you tried to ignore the way your heart fell when you saw her land the dismount that you were supposed to be doing.

Attempting once again to ignore her, you started competing your bar routine, making all the release skills that were causing you issues during practice, connecting all your skills, and sticking your dismount; a near perfect routine in your book. The smile that had grown on your face, slowly falling as you saw Kathryn start her routine.

Her routine was near flawless, with only slight wobbles in there. You had watched her routine enough times to know when her dismount was coming up, biting at your lip, you tried not to show too much emotion on your face - knowing that the media would just eat it up. But then she landed it.

She landed it. The 3.5 dismount that you had worked your ass off to get, was now named after her. And you had yet to even do the dismount again since your injury.

Your breath hitched as you watched her salute before walking away back to her coaches. “C’mon, y/n. We still have two events to do. Don’t get in your head now,” Michelle said, ushering you towards the beam.

It’s a lot easier said than done to not get in your head about your competitors when in this sport. A sport where the smallest deductions could cost you so much, but right now you just had two routines left.

Working up the courage to get on the beam and do your routine, you fell twice and somehow stepped out on the double back dismount. You didn’t miss the way that Marcus’ face fell slightly, but he knew you would be fine on floor.

He knew you well enough to know that with floor being your strongest event, there were only a few ways that you would get deductions, he knew that you could come back from what had happened on beam. Sticking all your tumbling passes and doing perfect leaps and jumps, you were able to make up for the score on beam and qualify for Championships next month.

You avoided looking at Kathryn, knowing she would just send a smirk your way, you accepted the awards that you got and made your way back to the locker room. Getting 1st on floor, vault, bars, and all around, and 3rd on beam, you practically threw the medals that you got on the counter and your hands gripped onto the edge of the sink as you tried to settle your breathing down.

Nicole stood watch at the door to make sure that no one came in until you had calmed down and she also made sure that you didn’t have to deal with media before you got to Kevin. Kevin and Nolan simply took you back to their apartment so that you wouldn’t be alone. Luckily, they understood that you didn’t want to talk right now, so they let you go to the guest room that already had enough clothes in there for you and let you go to sleep.

“You think she’ll be okay?” Nolan asked, grabbing a water bottle from their fridge.

“She just has a lot going on, I think she’ll be okay sooner than later. I did find out what happened at the lake - I can’t share - but I am aware of what happened and they’re just being idiots, that’s all.”

“Makes sense.”

When you woke up the next day, you quickly took note of the pain that you felt in your knee, brushing it off as general soreness, you made your way towards the kitchen.

“Hey y/n/n, Kev is on his way back from getting breakfast, so if you want to stay and join us, you are welcome to,” Nolan’s voice rang from the kitchen.

“Yeah, I will. Thank you,” you replied, softly, taking a seat on one of the barstools.

“You doing ok?” he sighed, “That’s a dumb question. How are you feeling?”

“I’m doing as okay as I can be, you know. I’ll be fine, don’t worry.”

Shortly after, the door opened once more, “I come bearing gifts,” Kevin said.

“I always knew you were good for something,” you replied, earning a fist bump from Nolan. As you stood up from the barstool, the pain in your knee caused you to wince.

“y/n, you good?” Kevin asked.

“Yeah, yeah, I think my knee is just sore or something from yesterday, it’ll be fine.”

“If it gets worse, you better tell me.”

“Yeah, of course, Kev.”

The ‘general soreness’ you felt lasted a few days before Kevin got to the end of his rope, “c’mon, we’re going to see Adrian.”

“Why?”

“Your knee hasn’t gotten any better. That’s not just your knee being sore, something is wrong and it’s obvious. So, let’s go.” Kevin knew that if he didn’t do something that the pain in your knee would only get worse, he knew you would keep pushing it until you absolutely couldn’t. He didn’t want you to have to stop what you loved because you were too stubborn to do anything, so he called Adrian, who immediately told him to bring you in.

“Ah, there’s my superstar,” Adrian said, watching you walk into his office.

“I don’t want to be here, but it’s nice to see you, Adrian,” he simply rolled his eyes in response.

“Yeah, Ms. Stubborn, we know you didn’t want to be here, but it’s the smart thing to do. I know you’re not used to making decisions like that, but here you are,” Adrian said, simply pointing to the bench, knowing that you had been here enough times to know what to do.

You watched as Adrian’s face changed as he examined your knee, “have you been working the landing on events constantly? Yes or no?”

“I mean, recently, kinda. I did a lot of reps for bars and vault, that’s kinda the only landings I was doing, why?”

“I hate to say it, but it looks like the running and landings are putting too much pressure on the knee right now. Have you worn tape or your brace recently?”

“No, but I thought it was fine.”

“Yeah, of course you thought it was fine. How much have landings been hurting your knee recently, 1-10?”

“5?”

“y/n, I know when you’re lying, today is not the day.”

“7 to 9, it just depends.”

Adrian took a deep breath, “alright, well, I need you to wear your brace almost 24/7 for the next 14 days-”

“Adrian, no, I can’t do that.”

“You can and you will, babes. I’m not taking suggestions right now. 2 weeks with the brace and crutches, nothing other than ab and upper body workouts, and no hard landings. Then, another 2 weeks, with athletic tape and still no hard landings. If you do bars, no dismount, definitely no tumbling, you can do leaps and jumps, but keep it to a minimum.”

“Adrian, what? No, you don’t understand, I-”

“You want to go to the Olympics, yes?” you nodded, “well, with the amount of pressure and amount you’re overworking it, your knee won’t be ready unless you take a break now. And you have to actually listen to me this time. I want you to succeed, but you have to listen in order to be able to.”

“I’m telling Kevin, too, so that way you actually have to do it. But once those 4 weeks are up, we’ll check and make sure it’s looking good and you should be fine.”

“Adrian, that only gives me like two weeks before Championships and I have to do good during that or I won’t qualify for trials.”

“Love, sometimes you just have to trust things to work out, okay? It’ll all work out, I promise you. Now, how’s lover boy?”

“You can’t just change topics like that, dude. I’m still mad about the other thing,” you shot a glare at the man in front of you.

“You’re fine. Chill out, sweetheart. Now, how is lover boy?”

“They aren’t talking,” Kevin’s voice echoed as he came into the office.

“Why?” Adrian asked, turning to you.

“Stuff happened and I bailed,” Adrian rolled his eyes at you once again.

“Dumbass. You’re a dumbass. He’s good for you or he seems good for you, at least from what I’ve heard.”

“Yeah, he is. He’s great,” you smiled.

“So then, what the fuck are you doing here? Go talk to him, text him, call him, something. You have a phone, use it.”

“It’s not-”

“It’s only not that easy because you’re making it 100 times more difficult. Communicate. Go get your man and stop being stupid. Now, listen to what I said about both things, enjoy your time with the crutches again, and go talk to your boy.”

#sticking it #joel farabee #nhl imagine #nhl imagines #philadelphia flyers #joel farabee x reader #hockey imagines #beezer #joel farabee x gymnast!reader

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rohad93 · 4 years

Text

Moonlit Masquerade: Under the Lights

“So, do you know what your plans for this weekend are?” Willow asked her Monday as they sat eating lunch and waiting on Luz, who’d hadn’t shown up from class yet.

Amity looked up from her sandwich, still chewing the bite in her mouth. She quickly swallowed it.

“I don’t have any that I know of yet, why?“

“What about your anniversary?” Gus asked as he looked up from his own food.

“My anniversary?” Amity repeated, looking just as confused as she sounded. “What anniversary?” She turned to the illusion track student.

Willow seemed to realize something as her eyes went wide and she shook her hands.

“Nothing, nevermind…,” she started to say, but Gus, heedless of the fact that Amity was clueless and Willow was trying to back track, went on.

“Luz said this Saturday was your one month anniversary and she was thinking of doing something for you,” he said, not noticing the look Willow was now giving him.

Amity blinked at him before horror slowly began to dawn upon her face.

Gus and Willow watched, fascinated as she dropped her sandwich and slapped both hands to her cheeks.

“Titan, I didn’t even think about it!” she yelped. “I’m such a bad girlfriend,” she groaned.

Willow shot Gus another look and the younger witch looked back and forth between the two before coming to his own realization.

“Ooh… sorry,” he mumbled, hunkering down behind his food. Willow sighed, before turning back to Amity.

“You’re not a bad girlfriend, Amity. You’re just not the type to do that coupley thing where you feel like you have to celebrate every month, a lot of people aren’t.” Willow shrugged, spearing some of her salad on her fork.

Amity couldn’t deny that that was true, she had seen plenty of couples, like Skara and her boyfriend, do that nauseating thing where they celebrated being a couple every two weeks or some other absurdly short amount of time and she’d always thought it was silly.

Now that she and Luz were dating she found herself whistling a different tune.

Not that she was going to start making a big deal out of every other week like some people.

After spending almost a month and a half pining after Luz only for them to now be dating, and for a month? That was worth something to her.

“But I should know that Luz would be that kind of person, and of course she’s already thinking about it,” she groaned, burying her face in her hands. Gus and Willow shared a sympathetic look.

“Well, based on what she said this morning, I don’t think she has any kind of plan yet,” Willow tried to assure her. “She really only mentioned it and that she might want to do something.”

Amity shot up ramrod straight at that, smacking both her fists on the table.

“I still have time then, I can beat her to it.” Amity seemed to be talking more to herself from the two of them.

“I could be wrong, but I don’t think it’s a competition, Amity.” Willow looked at her, mildly concerned.

“No, of course it isn’t, it’s just…” She searched for the right words. “After everything Luz did last month, the gifts and notes… the dance… I want to be able to do something big for her back. We hang out all the time after school and on the weekends and we call them dates but I want to do something more…,” she trailed off, thinking.

“Romantic?” Willow finished with a knowing grin as she took a bite of her lunch.

Amity��s face pinked, but she nodded, clenching her fists.

“Well…,” Willow hummed thoughtfully. “Grand gestures are kind of Luz’s thing, it’s how she shows she cares, so if you did some big romantic gesture I’m sure it would blow her away.” She smiled.

“Yeah!” Gus slapped his palms on the table. “Something big and flashy, with some pizazz!” Her twirled a finger and confetti burst into the air, dissolving into sparks of blue magic as it hit the table.

“Well, maybe not quite like that,” Willow giggled. “But something,” she agreed.

“Flashy isn’t really my thing…” Amity frowned, drumming her fingers on the table as she rested her chin in her other hand, brows furrowed in thought.

“I’m sure whatever you do, Luz will love it.” Willow smiled softly at her childhood friend.

Speaking of…

Luz chose that moment to come dashing into the cafeteria and headed straight for them.

“Hey, all my favorite people!” She hopped over the bench to plop into the spot next to Amity as she reached across the table to high five Gus and shoot Willow a finger gun before turning to Amity with a bright grin. “And my favorite girlfriend,” she said quietly with a wink.

Amity found herself grinning back, cheeks only turning a little pink now when the other girl casually flirted with her.

“I had better be your only girlfriend, Noceda,” she teased, only just holding back her laughter as Luz clutched dramatically at her chest and gasped in mock affront.

“As if there could ever be anyone else, Cariño.” She couldn’t hold the facade for long and broke into a wide grin, reaching under the table to give Amity’s knee a brief squeeze. They did their best to refrain from any physical displays or words of affection at school, though Luz occasionally, sneakily, did something like that; it was just who she was.

Willow rolled her eyes at the couple and Gus made a gagging motion.

“Sorry it took so long, some chimera’s got loose in beast keeping near the end of class…,” Luz launched into a story.

The rest of lunch went by quickly and soon the bell’s screaming echoed over the din of the lunch room.

“Oh, I better get to potions!” Luz jumped up.

“Wait, Luz.” Amity’s hand on her forearm made her still. “Do you have plans for Saturday?” she asked, already knowing the answer, but she couldn’t let her know that.

“Nope, why?”

“There’s something I wanted to do Saturday, with you.”

“Sure, what?” Luz cocked her head curiously.

“It’s a surprise.” Amity smiled at the way Luz’s dark eyes lit up with the word.

“Ooh, I see.” she grinned. “Well, I’m all yours Saturday then.”

“Perfect” she smiled at the words ‘all yours’ and felt the familiar warm and tingly sensation that filled her whole body whenever Luz said or did something that struck that certain chord in her heart.

“See you guys later.” She waved at Gus and Willow, who waved back before turning to Amity. “After school?” she asked with a meaningful look that made Amity smile sadly.

She’d been thinking about it all through lunch and she had an idea, but if she wanted it to become a reality she’d need to start right after school.

“I can’t today…” She hated the way Luz’s shoulders fell at the words but Saturday would make her disappointment now worth it.

“Alright,” she pouted. “I’ll see you in class tomorrow?” she asked, making Amity roll her eyes.

“Of course, you dork,” she huffed but Luz only grinned.

“Adiós, Cariño!” Luz waved as she jogged out of the cafeteria toward the potions hall.

Once she was gone Amity turned back to the others at the table.

“What does ‘Cariño’ mean?” she asked. They just shrugged. Luz had started calling her that last week and she always forgot to ask about it.

“You have a plan for Saturday?” Willow cocked a brow questioningly at the familiar look on Amity’s face.

“I have an idea…,” she said. “But I need to start first thing after school… and I may need a little help…” she looked at them.

The two shared a glance before turning back to her with matching smiles.

“What do you need?”

~ ~

Amity’s plan was slowly forming in her head as she hurried to the Bonesburough market as soon as the last bell screamed.

She knew exactly what she wanted to do and where, but she needed some extra information first if it was gonna be perfect.

She needed to talk to Eda, and she knew from Luz that Eda had started selling things again in the market just last week, figuring some of the pressure around her had died down.

She turned the corner and spotted the rickety stand being manned by the Owl Lady herself, though she was wearing a wrap around her head and some sunglasses.

Amity wasn’t sure who that disguise was supposed to fool since Eda was the most wanted criminal in the Isles, but that was Eda’s business.

She walked up to the stand and waited for the customer finishing their purchase to leave before approaching.

Eda noticed her quickly.

“Hey, kid. Need some human paraphernalia for your human?” she asked with a grin and a wink, making Amity flush.

“No, I don’t need anything for Luz… but I do need something from you,” she said.

“Oh?” Eda leaned over the counter and peered at her over the tops of her sunglasses.

“I'm… doing something to surprise Luz and I was wondering if you could tell me what some of her favorite foods are, she’s told me you cook for her.“

“Well, I cook, yeah, but other than pancakes, the kid’s not big on most of my meals… not that I blame her.” She shrugged.

Amity frowned at that, Eda was really her only hope for this information. Gus and Willow hadn’t known much about it and while she and Luz talked all the time about all kinds of things, it was natural that some things just hadn’t come up yet.

“There is some food I’ve heard her talk about that she loves, something her mom made for her… what was it?” Eda tapped her chin thoughtfully.

“I believe she called it ‘tostones’.” Another voice called and they both turned to see Lilith, as she came out of the back of the stand holding a box of human junk.

“That’s right!” Eda snapped her fingers.

Amity frowned at the sight of the former coven leader.

She and Luz had talked about Lilith only once. Luz didn’t like that she was still holding a grudge over the things that had happened with the elder Clawtorne sister, but she respected Amity’s right to her feelings and didn’t bring it up, only mentioning her former mentor in passing.

Luz was just too forgiving sometimes, in Amity’s opinion. Though she guessed if she wasn’t they wouldn’t be where they were today, so she would be cordial at the owl house when she was there, for Luz; but that didn’t mean she had to like Lilith.

Lilith noticed the less than friendly look she was getting from the teen and averted her eyes. She was lucky Luz was so quick to let things go, but she knew the same could not be said for most people, and really, she deserved it. Eda smirked at her sister’s demeanor in front of her former protégé.

“What are ‘tostones’?” The foreign word felt strange on her tongue as she looked back to Eda who shrugged.

“Some kind of fried fruit?” She turned to her sister who nodded.

“She said it was a fruit in the human world. A ‘plantain’. You slice them into disks, fry them, smash them flat, then fry them again and sprinkle them with salt."

"Oh yeah… kid was practically drooling.” Eda smirked, rolling her eyes

“We probably don’t have that fruit here…” Amity frowned.

“No, but I’ve given her Gorgon fruit before and she said it was really similar, you could probably make it with those,” Eda suggested.

“Gorgon fruit, huh?” she hummed.

Amity was familiar with them. While you could eat them, most people didn’t because of their bland flavor and starchy texture. But she was damned if she wasn’t going to try.

“I can get Gorgon fruit…,” she trailed off thoughtfully.

“Amity!?"

Amity jumped, looking up in time to see her girlfriend come barreling toward her at full speed from across the market.

She pounced on her, wrapping her arms around the witch’s neck and grinning.

"Hi, Luz.” Amity smiled, wrapping her arms around Luz if no other reason then to keep from being barreled over as she was tackled at full speed.

The sisters smirked, glancing at each other as they watched the two teenagers.

“What are you doing here, I thought you had something to do after school?” she asked after stepping back to look at her.

“Oh, yes, I…,” she trailed off. She hadn’t thought Luz would be at the market today and had not prepared an excuse in case she ran into her. Her eyes flickered across Luz’s patiently waiting face, mind racing for something to say.

“She came to speak to me."

They both turned to Lilith in surprise.

"You did?” Luz blinked, turning her gaze back on Amity, who quickly schooled her features so as not to look as surprised as Luz.

“Yessss…,” she said slowly, trying not to sound equally bewildered.

Then a bright smile broke out on Luz’s face and she nudged her gently.

“I’m proud of you,” she said quietly.

Amity hummed, frowning. She felt a little guilty at Luz’s praise, because she certainly was not here to talk to Lilith.

“Come along then, Amity,” Lilith called as she walked out from behind the stand.

“Bye, Luz” she quickly pressed a kiss to her cheek before hurrying away to follow Lilith.

“See you tomorrow, Cariño~,“ she sang, waving. Eda rolled her eyes at the entire affair, but was grinning.

Amity followed Lilith silently until they were out of sight of Eda’s stand.

"I’m still mad at you…,” Amity grumbled.

“I know, and you have every right to be. Few people are as forgiving as Luz…” The former coven leader frowned.

They walked along quietly till they stopped in front of a stand selling fruits and vegetables.

Lilith eyed their wares before spotting a large bunch of Gorgon fruit, their pale violet skin sticking out among the other fruits. She dug through one of her pockets and handed over the appropriate amount of snails before picking them up and handing them to Amity, who blinked down at the fruit in her hands before looking back up at Lilith.

“I… hope someday, to actually earn Eda and Luz’s forgiveness for what I’ve done to them, and yours for what I did to you,” she said solemnly before turning and walking back to Eda’s stand without another word.

Amity watched as the elder Clawthorne sister disappeared in the crowded market.

She looked at the fruit in hand before turning and hurrying home.

~ ~

That night she stood in the kitchen a little frazzled. She had no idea if she was doing this right since she didn’t know what it was supposed to look or taste like.

She carefully moved the popping and sizzling disks around in the oil as they cooked. While the skin of the fruit was a pale violet the flesh itself was white and turned golden brown as it cooked, filling the house with a delightful smell.

Luckily for her both her parents were gone for the entire week, leaving the Blight children to their own devices, so she didn’t have to worry about any questions about what she was making or where she would be after school or Saturday evening.

On the other hand she still had to worry about…

“Whatcha’ cookin, Mittens?"

"Smells good."

The twins popped up over her shoulders, making her jump.

She scowled, glancing at them over her shoulder.

It was easier to just answer their questions and they often went on their merry way after they had their fill of harassing her.

“It’s called ‘tostones’ it’s one of Luz’s favorite foods from the human realm, I’m trying to recreate it for her.” She moved some of the disks out of the oil to a paper towl sitting on the counter and she quickly sprinkled them with salt.

“Aw, that’s sweet…” Emira cooed, pinching one of Amity’s cheeks only to have her hand swatted away with the spatula and a growl.

“Oh, let us try!” Edric grabbed one of the disks, Amity didn’t try to stop him as he popped it into his mouth.

“Hot, Hot!” He smacked his mouth trying to bounce searing hot food off his tongue but didn’t take it out of his mouth. The sisters watched and shared a glance, the same deadpan expression on both their faces.

“So hot…,” Ed whimpered, fanning his tongue with his hands while still chewing.

“Ed…” Emira shook her head with a sigh and Amity rolled her eyes. What she was planning wasn’t till Saturday, this was just a test batch and she would have offered her siblings some; after they had cooled.

“So good, but so hot…” Ed stuck out his now burnt tongue with a whine.

“Are they?” Amity turned to her first completed batch and picked one up, carefully blowing on it before popping it in her mouth.

The salt and fat melted on her tongue and the pleasant crunch followed by the soft mashed fruit inside made her hum; they were good.

Em followed her example, carefully cooling it before taking a bite.

“Oh, these are good, Mittens!” the older girl praised before popping the rest in her mouth.

“I hope it’s close enough to what her mom makes.” She chewed her lip worriedly. Even if they were good, the point was to try and give Luz one of her favorite foods, something that she’d lost with the portal’s destruction.

Edric and Emira shared a knowing look.

“I’m sure she’s gonna love it, sis.” Edric set a hand on her shoulder.

“Yeah, even if it’s not the exact same, Luz will appreciate the effort.” Emira squeezed her other shoulder.

“Thanks…” Amity smiled, then caught sight of her brother reaching for another steaming hot tostone and slapped his hand.

“Ed!” Emira huffed.

“What? They’re good!” he whined.

“Just wait for them to cool off!” Amity scolded.

~ ~ ~

By Friday Amity had decided she had perfected her Boiling Isles version of tostones as much as she was able, having never seen or tasted them herself. As well as having gathered together a few other foods and things needed for what she had planned for Saturday.

She could tell that Luz was curious about what she was planning as they sat in what had become ‘their’ secret room, Luz leaning her head on Amity’s shoulder and peering up at her with large puppy eyes while she flipped through one of her text books.

“Just a hint?” she asked, making Amity roll her eyes fondly.

“No,” she said for the third time that afternoon, flipping a page in her book.

“I hate surprises…,” Luz mumbled, crossing her arms but not removing her head from Amity’s shoulder.

“You love surprises, you just hate waiting for them.” Amity looked at her fondly, but exasperated.

“Well, can’t argue with that…,” Luz hummed. “Should I bring or wear anything special?” she asked.

“Just yourself, however you want to come.” She smiled. “Don’t eat dinner,” she tacked on. It would ruin all her work for Luz to eat beforehand.

“Even if I want to wear the otter costume?” Luz snickered, peeking up as Amity’s smile fell.

“If… you want…,” she said slowly. “But please don’t…,” she muttered under her breath, making Luz burst in giggles.

“I won’t, Cariño.” she promised, nudging Amity’s cheek with the top of her head and closing her eyes.

Amity paused, thinking.

“Luz?”

“Hmm?”

“What does ‘Cariño’ mean?” she finally asked.

“Hm? Oh it means…” she paused, a sly look sliding into her face. “Tell me about Saturday and I’ll tell you what Cariño means,” she said and Amity pursed her lips, glaring down at Luz, who was looking up at her, grinning like the griffin that ate the pixie.

“I don’t wanna know then,” she huffed, turning her head.

“Aw, c'mon Amity!” Luz just laughed at her girlfriend’s puffed up cheeks.

They continued to poke and prod each other till Amity had to leave, with the promise of picking Luz up tomorrow night.

~ ~

Amity made her way toward the owl house with nervous excitement, the sun having just dipped below the horizon and the last rays of bright orange light were vanishing from the sky leaving the last bits of pale blue to soon give away to the deep blues and blacks of night.

Willow had just sent her a message on her scroll that she and Gus had finished their parts and were headed home.

She quickly typed back a reply, thanking them both for their help as she walked down the darkening path towards Luz’s house.

She’d spent far too long digging through her closet when she had told Luz to just wear whatever she wanted. Her sister had come in at one point to help her sort through her wardrobe. She’d settled on a dark green plaid skirt and a long sleeved black shirt, her brooch pinned to it.

She smiled as she adjusted it. She’d wear it everyday if she could.

The owl house came into view and Amity picked up the pace, hurrying to the front door.

“Hi, Amity! Hoot hoot!”

Before she had to interact with the bird-tube the door flung open cutting off anything else Hooty might have said and Luz appeared, smiling brightly.

She had obviously been waiting for her.

“Hey, Amity.” she stepped out of the doorway. “You look really nice.”

Heat bloomed across Amity’s face. She was never going to get used to Luz’s complements.

“Thanks, so do you.” she glanced over her girlfriend, who grinned, and she did, in what she’d heard Luz call ‘jeans’ and a short sleeve blue and white striped shirt.

“I really wanted to wear the otter suit…,” she drawled, looking smug. “…but I figured since we’re doing something different I’d try to spice it up a little for you.”

Amity rolled her eyes but smiled.

“I like it.” It was Luz’s turn to blush. “Are you ready to go?”

“Yup! See you later, Eda!” She shouted back into the house with Eda shouting back at them to be safe and then Luz stepped all the way out, closing the door behind her and reaching out to grab Amity’s hand, lacing their fingers together.

“Hoot, bye, Luz!” Hooty called.

“So are you finally going to tell me where we’re going?” Luz asked after a few minutes of walking through the slowly darkening woods.

“No, I’m going to show you.” She smiled, glancing at the human out of the corner of her eye.

“Mysterious…” Luz smiled back.

When they were nearly there Amity dug her free hand into her pocket and came back with a bandana. “Put this on?” she asked.

Luz blinked at the bandana for a second before letting go of Amity’s hand just long enough to tie the bandana around her eyes. She groped around for Amity’s hand again, making the witch smile as she took it and led her the rest of the way.

“Are we there yet?” Luz asked when they stopped and Amity steeled herself, nodding but Luz couldn’t see it of course.

“Yes”

Luz wasted no time whipping off her bandana and the moment her eyes blinked open she gasped.

They were standing on the cliffside, in front of a large pink, leafed tree.

Their grom tree.

The air around the tree was filled with floating balls of light that lit the area and slowly shifted from one color to the next. Their light reflected off the tree’s leaves, casting everything in a shadow of pale pink as the last vestiges of light disappeared behind the ocean on the horizon.

Sitting at the base of the tree was a checkered blanket laid out over the grass and what Luz could only guess to be the Boiling Isles version of a picnic basket.

Amity dug the toe of her shoe into the dirt, waiting anxiously for Luz to speak, but she couldn’t stay silent any longer.

“W-what do you think?” she asked, jerking Luz out of her stupor. She turned to Amity and blinked, mouth opening but no words coming out as so many rushed to the tip of her tongue at once. She swallowed, trying to force a clam over herself long enough to speak but the hot feeling in her chest was overwhelming as she looked at her girlfriend in the low glowing lights as they floated around their heads.

“It’s amazing,” she finally managed to get out past dry lips.

“Really?” Amity asked and Luz was reminded of the last time they had been here and she had asked her that, with the same hopeful lilt, after Luz had said she would go to Grom with her. She laughed at herself, if she had known then what she knew now…

“Yeah, everything is beautiful,” she spoke quietly, as though raising her voice would shatter the moment. Luz grabbed both Amity’s hands and held them firmly in her own. Amity’s face was hot, but she was getting used to that just being how it was going to be when they were together.

“Gus and Willow helped…and I haven’t even shown you everything yet…” She tugged Luz over to the blanket and sat carefully while Luz plopped down beside her. “I wanted to try to make something you liked, but we don’t have the exact thing here on the Isles but I tried to make it as close as possible based on description,” she trailed off nervously. Luz looked at her with unabashed curiosity.

Luckily with a little magic they were still quite hot when she pulled the food out of the basket and held it up for Luz to inspect.

Brown eyes shot open wide as she looked at her girlfriend’s offering.

“Are those…,” she trailed off, hardly believing her eyes. It couldn’t be.

“We don’t have ‘plantains’ but I hope this version of tostones is close.” Amity held a hand out at the plate, motioning for Luz to try one.

With trembling fingers she picked one up and it was warm between her fingertips. She took a bite and immediately wanted to cry.

It was so, so good.

The flavor and texture was barely indistinguishable from her mom’s.

She looked back up at Amity, who had her hands fisted into her skirt, waiting on bated breath.

“It’s so good…” her voice trembled as she shoved the rest of it into her mouth, savoring every bite.

Amity’s tense shoulders pulled away from her ears and she smiled at Luz’s palpable joy, even though her eyes were a little glassy like she might cry at any moment.

“I’m glad,” she said, drawing Luz’s attention back to her.

That small, pleased smile lit up her whole face as the floating lights made her gold eyes shimmer.

“You…” Luz started, throwing out her hands and gesturing to everything. “Your…” she just couldn’t manage to get out the right words, she wasn’t even sure what the right words were. Everything was so beautiful and perfect and Luz didn’t think there were any words that could express that; she was overwhelmed.

Where her mouth often failed her, her actions wouldn’t.

Luz shot forward, wrapping Amity in a tight hug and burying her face in her neck, making Amity squeak with surprise as Luz squeezed her, trying to convey everything she felt.

Amity hugged her back, smiling so hard it hurt but she couldn’t stop it even if she wanted to.

After a long minute Amity finally pulled away.

“They’re going to get cold.” She grinned, and Luz needed no further prompting before shoveling some more into her mouth while she pulled the sandwiches she made out of the box and started to eat one, happy to let Luz have all of the tostones.

When all the food was gone Luz laid flat on her back on the blanket, more content then she could ever remember being.

Her stomach wasn’t the only thing that felt full though. She turned her head to gaze up at Amity as she sipped apple blood out of a small juice box, her heart felt fit to burst.

Why had it taken her so long to see how amazing the girl in front of her was?

Amity glanced at her and saw her staring and her cheeks turned that lovely shade of pink they always did when she caught her off guard; making her grin.

If she had only been less dense at Grom…

The sudden thought made Luz sit up.

“I have an idea!” She grinned, jumping up and dug her phone out of her pocket. She quickly scrolled through her playlist before hitting play on a song, and the soft sounds of a tinkling piano filled the air around them. She sat it on the roots and turned to Amity, holding out a hand.

“I know we technically danced at Grom, but maybe we could have a do over? Without the giant terror demon, and not as friends?” she asked.

Amity blinked at the outstretched hand a moment before a soft smile broke out on her face and she slid her hand into Luz’s.

“I’d like that.”

Luz pulled her up and wrapped an arm around her waist, threading her fingers between Amity’s as the witch’s spare hand wrapped around her, her head laying on her shoulder.

They swayed in slow rhythm with the music, eyes closed, simply enjoying the moment.

Luz idly wondered if witches had a higher body temperature than humans, because Amity was always warm to the touch.

After several more songs had come and gone, she spoke.

"This was amazing… you shouldn’t have gone through so much trouble though…it’s just a month anniversary…”

“I wanted to. I wanted to do something for you…,“ Amity hummed, turning her head to bury her face in Luz’s neck. She always smelled like the forest in summer, warm and pleasantly earthy.

“I feel bad I didn’t do anything for you,” she mumbled into mint hair. She still wasn’t sure if it was perfume or shampoo that gave Amity her sweet, flowery scent, but it never failed to put Luz at ease.

“Don’t, I’m just happy to be here with you.” Was the quiet reply and again Luz felt her chest surge to the brim with emotion desperately looking for an escape, and it finally found it.

“I love you."

The words came out of her mouth before she even realized she was saying them.

They both froze, Amity jerking back to look at her and both their faces were nearly glowing red as they looked at each other equally surprised, and immediately Luz began to stammer.

"I didn’t mean that! I- I mean, I did, but I didn’t mean to say it out loud!” She fumbled over her words as Amity continued to stare at her in absolute shock.

“What?” The witch managed to squeak, barely a whisper, and if possible, Luz turned even redder, her palms suddenly sweaty and surely Amity noticed that!

‘I… I didn't… I mean, it’s probably way too soon to be saying that, right!?“ Her voice pitched, much louder than necessary since they were still standing pressed against each other, faces only a few inches apart. She decided it was best for once to just shut up.

It felt like an eternity as gold eyes searched her bright red face.

Slowly, Amity began to shake her head.

"Maybe…,” she finally said, voice low and eyes never leaving Luz’s. “But, I love you too."

Luz’s grip on her hand tightened as she stared back.

"Yeah?”

“Yeah"

Luz swallowed thickly, suddenly quite aware of the fact that she hadn’t kissed Amity, really kissed her, since the masquerade.

She gently pulled her fingers free from Amity’s to cup one of the witch’s red cheeks.

Amity leaned into the touch, heart suddenly thundering in her chest and then Luz's lips were slotted across hers with a gentle pressure Amity was quick to return.

Neither pulled away till their lungs burned with a need for air, releasing each other with a quiet ‘pop’ and panting and before either had recovered Luz was kissing her again and Amity’s fingers were digging into her shirt, a small noise rising unbidden in her throat making Luz kiss her that much harder, the arm still wrapped around her waist tightened, pulling her in as close as physics would allow.

This kiss was so much more than the tentative ones they had shared in Amity’s room after the dance. It was charged and it made Amity’s knees weak.

She wouldn’t be able to stand, surely, if not for Luz holding her so tightly.

When they finally pulled apart neither said anything for a long time, staring at each other and trying to get their breathing back under control.

"Sweetie” Luz finally said, and before Amity could even think to ask what she meant, Luz went on. “Cariño, it means ‘sweetie’,” she explained.

“Oh,” Amity mumbled, face still flushed as she panted.

Luz resisted the urge to kiss her again. Amity looked ready to pass out and she herself felt boneless.

“But maybe… I should be calling you ‘mi amor’ instead…,” she mumbled, watching the lights reflecting in the golden depths of Amity’s eyes.

“What does that mean?” Amity whispered, her already white-knuckled grip on Luz tightening.

“My love."

~ ~ ~

I’m a romantic sap, what can I say?

Also i just like to write about them dancing.

@tri-chan inspired me.

#Lumity #Luz Noceda #Amity Blight #Edric Blight #Emira #Eda Clawthorne #lilith clawthorne #Willow Park #Gus Porter #the owl house #toh #fics #Moonlit Masquerade

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highpope · 3 years

Text

Silver Keys - Chapter Five

JJ Maybank x OC x Topper Thorton Soulmate AU

warnings: none, let me know if there ever are :)

notes: first, I know this took agesssss I'm sorry but I've been sitting on a couple chapters so you guys should be getting some updates for a while. Second, I lost my tag lists. so lmk if you want added to this one or my general tag list. I've been writing a lot more to cope with my anxiety so... things are coming bahaha. Love you guys, thanks for your support recently - J

Silver Keys Masterlist

June probably wouldn’t admit it to anyone besides her sister and Kie, but going out with Topper was fun. When he had asked her out to have dinner at the country club, she was worried she wouldn’t fit in at all. June was convinced she’d make it about 15 minutes before she bailed and met everyone back at the Chateau. She had on shoes she could barely walk in and a dress she found at goodwill, no doubt someone’s from a homecoming dance in years past and she was fighting the urge to pull her hair up all night. But then she realized they had talked straight through appetizers, dinner, and the waiter had come by twice for the check. The two of them had fallen into a comfortable understanding with each other that had continued into the following weeks.

He picked her up from work on most days, driving around in search of the perfect chocolate chip cookie. June argues that the small bakery run out of one of the local’s houses has the best cookies, but Topper is determined to try every option before making a decision. It had started as kind of a joke, but now it was just an excuse for them to hang out.

Currently, they were at the island’s movie night, chairs propped up near the back and various snacks shared between the two of them. Topper’s arm rested on her shoulders, something she had become accustomed to the past few weeks. June found herself more relaxed with him, it was easy being with Topper. She didn’t have to think or worry, June could just be.

They were playing The Sandlot, arguably the best movie of all time and June had to hold back from saying the iconic lines with the characters. She had grown up watching this movie with her sister and had practically begged Topper to go see it.

“Really?” He had asked the day before, “The movie nights aren’t really our thing.”

“Yeah, that’s because you guys always cause trouble and then get kicked out.”

He shook his head.

“Yes, you do. Besides, you’re gonna be with me and I am a model citizen.”

He laughed then and again in the chair beside her now.

She found herself leaning into him naturally, even with the arms of both their chairs in between them. It was something she had never had previously. June didn’t do relationships. In high school, she mostly stuck with the pogues and focused on school and not getting in trouble with the cops. Sure, she had the occasional crush or hookup with a touron, but nothing was ever serious. Not that this was, but it was closer to that than anything else June had experienced.

The next morning June had her last piano rehearsal with Mrs. Hana before the recital. The Saturday coming up was the big dress rehearsal. The one with the kids from all over the island and hundreds of different schools and programs. And the weekend following that was the recital. Her whole family was going. Her dad had even surprised her by getting a hotel room for all of them and making a whole trip about it. He had to work night shifts for two weeks, but he assured her it was worth it. Not that that added any pressure.

At rehearsal, June played nearly perfectly. She had only messed up a couple of notes near the end. She’d be lucky if Saturday went as smoothly as this. Mrs. Hana corrected her posture and made her go from the top. They went on like this the whole lesson: June playing and her correcting one thing at a time before making her start over. Normally, June would argue, but she knew it was because Mrs. Hana understood how important this was. This could set her future up, get her off the island if she wanted. She could do something she loved every day.

The night before the recital, June was laying on a hammock in John B’s backyard.

“Nervous?” Kie questions.

June shrugged, “Kinda, yeah.”

“I’m sure you’re going to do fine,” Pope said with confidence. It was only the three of them. John B and JJ had ventured out to get snacks and beer but hadn’t been back for an hour. June’s guess was they found a party and couldn’t bother to text an update. That or they got arrested. Which probably would’ve earned a phone call quicker than the first option. She chuckled thinking about this.

“It’s just a rehearsal and Liv is driving down with me so I don’t really have anything to worry about.”

“You seem to have this all figured out,” he said with a laugh.

Kie said, “And I cannot wait to celebrate when you get back! It’s gonna be so fun.”

June could only imagine what her best friend was thinking when she said this. She was sure it would end like most nights did, tipsy and watching movies on John B’s couch. Her favorite way to end a day. The three of them drift into a comfortable silence, lost in their thoughts. June starts to hear a familiar melody, but can’t quite put her finger on it. She was sure it wasn’t anything she had chosen to listen to, but couldn’t figure out where she had heard it before.

She was brought back to reality when John B and JJ come strutting into the yard, cases of beer on their shoulders and grocery bags in their hands. Kie and June both started cheering.

They set down the stuff on the closest table.

“What took so long?” Pope asked, getting up and rummaging through the bags. He pulls out a bag of chips before turning around.

“You’re not even going to believe it.” John B starts, taking a seat.

“Hey,” JJ yelled at June, “Gummies?” He asks and holds up a bag of gummy worms.

She nods her head and he tosses them over before grabbing his own snack and beer and joining her on the hammock. They all listen to JB’s story, JJ adding in his own variations and making everyone laugh.

“And who ended up being in front of us at the grocery store?” He paused for dramatic effect, “Sarah Cameron.”

June realized a beat late that she was supposed to be reacting, “Sarah Cameron!” she repeated.

JJ turned his head to keep from laughing.

“Am I supposed to be excited?” Kie asked, an annoyed expression on her face. She and Sarah used to be friends before they drifted into different friend groups.

“Yes, Kie. It was like fate.”

JJ spoke up, “I would hardly call it fate.”

John B just rolled his eyes at his friends and took another drink.

“What happened to Molly Fields?” Pope questioned. That was the girl we had gone to elementary school with, the latest victim of John B’s soulmate search.

“Nah,'' he dismissed, “This one’s different.”

“Well, I hope it is, JB,” June spoke up. He looked over and smiled at her.

The next morning June and Olivia jump in the car and start towards the concert hall where her dress rehearsal was being held. She had been up for hours, too excited and nervous to sleep. June had gotten ready, done her makeup, changed three times, and called Topper twice all before Olivia had even woken up. Downstairs, their mom had made some breakfast and June couldn’t bear to tell her she was too nervous to eat anything. So, she grabbed a pancake and thanked her parents.

They listened to music the whole way down, Liv was always determined to get June to listen to the most mainstream pop music she could. She always argued that she wouldn’t understand anyone’s references and it would be an embarrassing mess. June made sure to point out that she had made it 18 years without that ever happening, but nonetheless she persisted.

When they arrived, they parked the car and decided to window shop. They were still about an hour early from call time and Liv was restless enough as it was. June was trying to push her nerves down. She didn’t want to come across that way to the instructors. June had a vision that she would walk across the stage, take a deep breath, and be transported by the music. She didn’t want to have the weight of the competition on her shoulders or the constant confusion about her soulmate circling in her head. That was a new development. June found herself lying awake at night going over everything Topper had said or done and trying to place it into this mysterious soulmate cut out she had in her head. She was trying to do a puzzle with the wrong number of pieces. And she wasn’t even sure if it was the right picture on the box.

….

“Okay, turning the key a bunch of times isn’t going to do any good if the battery is dead,” Olivia said, snapping her head to look at June from the passenger side.

After the dress rehearsal, June had called Liv and the two of them had eaten in the cafeteria with a few other performers. June was practically glowing after being there for a few hours, she couldn’t imagine how she would feel at the actual recital. Everything was going perfectly.

Until they got back to the car and realized the battery was dead.

“Well,” June sighed, “I don’t know what else to do.” Her voice pinched.

“Can’t we call a mechanic?”

“Liv, you know we can’t afford that. Especially in this area. We just need a jump.”

She surveyed the empty parking lot and tried to think of what to do without panicking. They were too far from home to have someone just pick them up and there were no cars in sight. Even if there were, they didn’t have any jumper cables. Maybe they could take the bus home and get help tomorrow. June probably had enough cash in her purse for two bus tickets.

“Isn’t there like a trick with distilled water? That could get us somewhere.”

“You think I have distilled water in my car? Besides, I have no idea how to do that.”

“I’m just trying to give you ideas here,” Olivia said, unbuckling her seatbelt and getting out of the car.

June leaned her head back and closed her eyes, thinking and thinking.

She was interrupted when Olivia opened the driver’s side door and handed her the phone, “here.”

Confused, June lifted the phone to her ear, “hello?”

“June? What’s going on?” JJ’s voice was on the other end.

“J, we’re fine. Just a little car trouble.” She rolled her eyes at her sister.

“We’re stranded!” Olivia yelled so that he could hear.

“We’re fine,” she said, shooting her sister a look.

JJ speaks up, “Doesn’t sound fine. June, I’ll just come out and help. No problem.”

“No, no. We just need a jump-”

“I’m already in the car, just send me your location.”

“You don’t have to.”

“Yeah, but I’m going to.”

Defeated, June agrees and sends him the address of the music hall.

About 45 minutes later, JJ pulls into the parking spot opposite of them, “Hey,” he says as he turns the key and gets out of the car.

“Oh thank god! JJ, do you have AC? I’m melting.” Olivia yells. She’s already getting in his truck and rotating the fans to blow her hair back before he can process what she’s just said.

“I’m sorry,” June starts, but he interrupts her.

“Eh, no big deal”

“I can give you gas money for coming all the way out here.”

He shakes his head, “Nah. Here catch.” JJ throws one end of the jumper cables to her, “You know how to put them on?”

June scoffs, “This isn’t my first jump, Maybank.”

Once everything is sorted out with June’s car, the three of them drive to the nearest ice cream shop. Mostly because Olivia was being dramatic and promised to pay for herself, but also to thank JJ for driving the whole way out here just to get them home.

“I don’t know, it’s like what if my soulmate doesn’t like ice cream? Ew, or worse, orders mint chocolate chip.” Olivia said as they headed to a table outside. The spot they had picked was really nice, there were picnic tables with umbrellas lined up on a patio in front of the window they had ordered from.

June just laughed, a conversation the two of them had had more than once.

“What’s wrong with mint chocolate chip?” JJ asked.

Olivia made a face, “only everything.”

“Isn’t the whole point of a soulmate that you overlook those flaws and-”

“Please. Don’t lecture me.” She begs.

“She’s kinda right though,” JJ replies, looking at June for a second and scrunching his nose. She smiles back, looking down at her ice cream.

“Have you heard it?” She asks him.

“Yeah,” he clears his throat, “the other night at John B’s.” He meets June’s eyes. “I fell asleep on the pullout and the storm woke me up. So I was just laying awake and that’s when I heard it. It was really faint. Mad weird though,” He finished and took a bite of his ice cream, making June shudder.

She remembered the night he was talking about. It had stormed for about two days last week. She thought about what she was probably doing at the time, practicing for the recital, maybe reading until

she drifted off.

“Do you think you know who it is?” Olivia inquired.

He shook his head, “No, haven’t thought about it.”

“You don’t wanna know?”

“I mean, sure. But if I’m gonna find out anyway by force of,” he struggled for the right word before landing on, “the universe, then why stress right now?”

That answer seemed to have satisfied her enough because she nodded her head and stopped asking questions.

When she finally pulled into her driveway, June had a phone call.

The three of them had left shortly after ice cream, JJ following them most of the way back before he went off towards John B’s and June continued straight, with a quick wave behind her.

Olivia had practically jumped out of the car before she had even parked so now, June answered her phone, unbuckling her seatbelt.

“Hey,”

“Hey!” Topper said on the other end, “I wanted to see how everything went. I stopped by your house just a little bit ago, but your car wasn’t in front.”

June groaned, “That’s because we just now pulled in. The practice was great! Everyone was so talented and I got to meet a couple of instructors. It was really cool.”

“That’s amazing, bub.”

“Yeah, it really was.”

“What took you so long getting home?”

“Oh, uh. I just had some car trouble, no biggie.”

“Oh, is everything alright?”

“Yeah, yeah. Just needed a quick jump and then we were on our way.” June chuckled, nervously. She hadn’t even thought to call Topper when her car wouldn’t start. Truthfully she hadn’t thought to call anyone, but she still felt nervous to tell him what happened.

“So someone had cables? That’s pretty lucky.” He pressed.

“Uhm. No, actually. We had to call JJ for some help and then we were good to go. It drove perfectly on the way home.”

There was a pause before he spoke again, “You could’ve called or texted me.”

“I didn’t want to bother you. I wasn’t even the one who called JJ, it was Liv.”

“Well, I could’ve helped.”

“It’s fine, really.”

“I would’ve called a mechanic for you, had someone come out and get you.”

“And I would have really appreciated it,” June laughed nervously, “Next time I promise I will call you.”

He stayed silent for a long time before speaking, “It’s just your first thought wasn’t to call your boyfriend. Forgive me if I’m a little upset.”

She pondered over his words for a moment, skipping over the mention of ‘boyfriend,’ “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean for it to come off that way.”

“Yeah,” he sighed, “yeah, you’re right. I’ll call you in the morning, okay?”

June nodded even though he couldn’t see her and hung up the phone. She huffed, threw her phone in her bag, and marched up the sidewalk inside.

#highpopefics #silverkeys #silverkeys masterlist #jj maybank #topper thornton #outer banks #obx #jj maybank x oc #obx fic #outer banks fic #obx series #obx x reader

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bxllafanficc · 3 years

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¡Skate/sing your hearts out! (Yuri Plisetsky x reader)

(part one)

part two part three part four part five. Find the rest on; Masterlist

Summary: After last year's cancellation of Figure Skating Grand Prix, Yuri Plisetsky finds himself unable to bring out his inner skater after a year of doing nothing but enjoy life like a regular teenager. That's when you enter the picture; We Are Voice Grand Awards's currently hottest competitive vocalist come first place two years in a row. Just like the other competitors of Grand Prix, it turns out that Victor and Yuuri faces the same issue. With an arrangement between Victor and Yakov, they agree to travel to Japan and hire you as a mutual coach for Yuri and Yuuri to help bring back the emotion into their performances like before, maybe even more intense than ever. Yuri however, who's never experienced issues with his coaches before, for some reason finds this one particularly difficult to coexist along with in their (reasonably) odd partnership. Warnings: none

*Yuri's POV*

"Remind me once again why we're going to Japan? It's clear you'd never take us there just because you miss Victor and I know by experience that it's not because of his apprentice."

First class flight like usual. The view out the airplane window of the sparkling city at nighttime below them would stun anybody but at this point, Yuri has traveled so many times it's only become regular sights and the lights of the streets are only plain colored spots in a dark void to him these days. One thing he will never feel comfortable with though is staying in the same seat for hours on end until the airplane arrives at its destination. His legs are itching from wanting to move around. He'll just have to jog it off back on the ground like every other trip in the past.

"You'll be spending some time with Yuuri Katsuki and Victor the following weeks to gain your fighting spirit back. You need to get back in touch with your emotions, remember?" Yakov slightly turned his posture towards the Russian skater beside him, folding his newspaper in half and putting it in his lap.

He only nodded with a slight hum. He could see Yakov's reasoning, some parts of it at least. He HAD been lacking in emotional performance ever since the new year began and it was time to get back into the mindset of winning yet another Grand Prix gold medal like last year. No, not last year. Last year's competition was cancelled after a minor pandemic spread through Russia and the nearby regions. In fear of the virus spreading, all competitions cancelled and larger crowded areas were forbidden to take place. Therefore Yuri's only been able to practice by himself and keeping himself fit for a possible competition next year. But a year of doing nothing can really change your spirit and afraid to admitting it to his coach, he's been missing several opportunities to hit the rink and stayed home watching anime or scrolled through social media instead.

But one thing he doesn't get is how Victor and Yuuri are gonna make him get his mindset in the right track again. He already won his first gold medal at his senior debut and he doubt that the Japanese skater will be in any better condition than Yuri's currently in right now. Pig-man must've been in a much worse state considering his boo Victor had to stay in Russia during the pandemic, unable to keep an eye on Yuuri's routines.

"Besides, there's a little surprise waiting for you where you'll be staying with the two of them. It better work out fine or else I'm out of ideas."

That caught his attention to say the least.

"Well if it's supposed to save me from the deep end then why be so secretive and hushy with it? Spill the news, Yakov."

The old man only grunted and picked up his newspaper once again and hid his face behind it. Well now he really wanted to know what it was. Clearly he would have to make some effort. Soon the article about a Russian charity event taking place this weekend got replaced with a clenched fist going straight through the back of the paper. Yuri expected some kind of reaction but Yakov only sighed and leaned back in his seat without even a flinch.

"It's no surprise if I tell you. I promised Victor to keep it a secret."

"Tell me."

"No."

Yuri groaned and folded his arms with a sour glare. The display in the ceiling told the traveler's that it was 10 minutes until landing so he gave up his attempts and let his eyes rest for a while. At least he would find out tomorrow, he assumed. It was 2am and he would be staying at a hotel close to the airport since it was too late to make rest of the trip in one day.

Yuri was out with the speed of a lightning bolt the second the plane doors opened. He sped past everyone before him and he didn't stop when he finally got outside. His feet carried him to run circles around the plane meanwhile he was waiting for Yakov to get out the normal way. It's a silly habit of his and he knows he looks stupid doing it but his coach has given him strict orders to not run away at one random direction like used to do at first. It would take like half an hour for him to be found once he took off, but only if he got lost.

"Yuri! Get over here!"

Well, there's his cue to get ready and head to the hotel. Finally he's able to get some sleep before he's forced to wake up early at dawn to head to Hot Springs and meet the two most annoying people in Japan.

...

He didn't even have time to eat breakfast. He overslept and got rushed to the cab with an angry Yakov behind him, newspaper folded tightly in his fist. The trip through the beautiful Japan would've been pleasant if Yuri hadn't dozed off every 10 seconds. He didn't get much sleep after all. He spent at least three hours thinking about the special surprise and raiding the free mini bar before he finally got to rest. At 8am he was woken up with banging on the door and now, at 10am, he was standing at the entrance of Hot Springs waiting for Yuuri's mom to announce their arrival. She hurried away somewhere with her usual bubbly happy self that Yuri had no idea how a person could be so... not moody all day long.

The place was as crowded with customers as last time and the two Russians were told to step inside to the more private parts of the building where the family lived along with Victor at the moment.

"Victor! How come my brand new lotion is used? You smelled a suspicious amount of peaches and wild berries at breakfast and there's no point denying it!" A fairly soft and modulated voice was heard from somewhere to the left where the private shower stalls were located. A couple seconds later a giggly Victor and Yuuri came through the direction of the living room and greeted Yuri with happy cheers. The slender white haired Russian caught Yakov in a bear hug, much to the old man's surprise. Yuuri extended his hand towards Yuri but Yuri didn't give any effort in taking it.

"Food. I'm starving."

Yuuri dropped his hand with a light blush but Victor pouted and let go of his former coach. Strong and clingy arms were suddenly wrapped around his chest and he couldn't breathe.

"So unpolite... Yuriooo we've missed you! Haven't you missed us?"

Yuri thrashed like a fish caught in a net and tried to hit the arms of the bastard trapping him. Yuuri joined in, only to get a kick in the hip. His stomach growled angrily and the endless void in his body didn't lighten up the experience a bit.

"Let go you old man! You too piglet!"

"I hoped you'd say it out loud but I know that deep down you've been missing us, Yuriii." Victor went to whisper in his ear with pouty lips but was swatted away by a backhand in his face. That finally caused him to let go and Yuri jumped out of reach for the two males.

"Hm... Or not." The expression he got from Victor was sad and pouty and the man earned a hand on his shoulder, put there by Yuuri. Yuri could only sigh and shake his head.

"Victor! Did you steal my shampoo too?! I will- Oh? What now?" Yuri turned around abruptly by the unfamiliar yet familiar voice behind him. His eyes widened.

The girl was standing to the left of the hall, seemingly coming from the shower. A curious hand rested against the wall beside her and her face was covered in a grey clay face mask, a toothbrush lazily hanging from the corner of her lips. Her (h/c) eyes glistened with mild shock along with her mouth hanging slightly open.

"You are early... Victor, you told me they would arrive at 1pm1!" She pointed a strict finger at the tall man who scratched the back of his head with a hesitant laugh. Her eyes narrowed and she grabbed her toothbrush. Because even if she was standing unprepared in front of two strangers, she would at least not forget to brush her teeth in the process, as you do.

Yuri might've considered it normal if it wasn't for that she was almost naked. Two towels were the only fabric hiding her, one wrapped around her dripping figure and the other tied up in her hair.

"Yeah, about that! I kind of mixed up the time of their arrival and your meeting with the press, that's, by the way now when I think of it, not actually cancelled but later today. Silly of me to forget, right?"

She eyed him as though her bullshit meter was ticking in the red zone and let out a huff. Yuri had to advert his gaze when it suddenly felt intruding to eye her the way he did. He also turned away because a light tint of pink was creeping up his cheeks.

"Right. Thanks for the early update. I appreciate it, really. I'll be with you again in 30 minutes. Don't wait up for me." And with that, she was gone. The silence of the men maintained for a few moments until Yuuri coughed with an awkward smile, his red cheeks still visible even after the girl had disappeared. 'It's a little weird to blush at your almost naked sister' he thought.

"So food, right? Mom is preparing pork cutlet bowls for you, Yurio, since she remembered how much you liked them last time-" He didn't have to say it twice. Yuri was off to the dining area before the man even finished saying 'pork cutlet bowl'.

#yuri plisetsky #yuri plisetsky x reader #yuriart #yuri katsuki #yuri on ice #victor nikirofov #anime fanfic #animelove #fanfiction

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ledenews · 1 year

Text

ON THE NAIL! - Trades and the Season's Final Month

After dropping both games last weekend to Ft. Wayne to extend their losing streak to seven, the Nailers finally found their way back into the win column Wednesday with an 8-4 win over Norfolk. As we enter the home stretch, what do you expect to see from the Nailers the rest of the way? Boy, I’ll tell you, going from thinking there’s a chance to get back into the playoff picture to just barely being alive mathematically isn’t how I expected things to go the last couple weeks. Think back to the first week of March, when the Nailers had just taken two of three from this same Admirals team here in Wheeling and, with Ft. Wayne having lost six of their last seven games, and you couldn’t help but think the team was very alive, only five standings points back of the Komets. Since then, the Nailers have completely imploded, losers of seven straight (including three against the team they were trying to catch up to and pass in the standings), while Ft. Wayne has managed to go 4-1 over the same stretch and make their lead a seemingly insurmountable 11 points with Wheeling only having 13 games left this season compared to the Komets’ 15 games. At this point, even if the Nailers win every game left on their schedule and finish up with 79 standings points, they would need Ft. Wayne to go 7-8 down the stretch with every loss being in regulation to even have a chance. Just to get back to .500 on the season, the Nailers need to go at least 9-3-1 the rest of the way, which looks almost impossible with how they have been playing since we entered March. That being said, while I do expect to see Wheeling finish the season below .500 and miss the playoffs at this point, what I really want to see coming down the stretch is a competitive hockey team playing a strong team game. I feel like that’s what has been lacking these last couple of weeks. I’ve seen forwards move up ice early hoping to create for themselves before ensuring possession in their own zone. I’ve seen defensemen being pulled out of position too easily and giving up good scoring chances and not sticking to what brought them success earlier in the season. I’ve seen goaltending that has been subpar at best, not hugging posts when the puck goes low and giving up way too many juicy rebounds that the other team was able to capitalize on. I’ve seen a power play that is too happy to pass the puck around then lose possession without even getting a shot on goal. I’ve seen a penalty kill that spends too much time chasing the puck instead of insulating the net and protecting the house. So, what’s the cause of all of this, and what’s the fix? It feels like it comes down to leadership on the team, and lack thereof. Guys aren’t being held accountable by their teammates for playing sloppy hockey. Guys are working for their own game rather than focusing on what the team needs from them to succeed. I know Wheeling has lost a lot of guys throughout this season, guys that were expected to be those leaders. Well, when that happens, someone else must be ready to step into that spot and show the other players what is expected of them. I’ve seen bits and pieces of it, but not enough and not consistently. Someone on this team really needs to be the one to pull it together, and without that, we’ve seen what we’re going to get from this roster. If someone is willing to do that, and show this team how to play team hockey again, I expect to see enough success on the ice to give me hope going into the offseason for next year. The Nailers have begun making some roster moves, shipping Carter Johnson to the Maine Mariners for their playoff run in exchange for Keltie Jeri-Leon. What do moves like this mean to the team and what you will see from them at this point in the year? Hearing that your team is moving players to teams that are in playoff contention is generally a sign that they realize they’re not making that sort of run themselves. Especially when we’re giving up players like Carter Johnson, who I openly admitted was my favorite player on the team due to how he played the game, Luke Santerno, who was sent to Kansas City, and Sean Josling, who was sent to Florida on Wednesday. Seeing these moves makes you wonder what could have been this year if they could have played to their fullest potential, especially seeing as teams who do have their own playoff races to worry about want them for this stretch. They obviously see the skill there and want them for this time, and it would have been nice to be in that position and be the team looking to bring guys in to lock it down. Losing skill guys is never a good feeling at this point for the fans who have grown attached to the guys they like on the team just to watch them go. However, I must say I’m also excited for what the Nailers were able to turn these moves into. First, they were able to bring back Shaw Boomhower in the trade with the Mavericks, who had a good season last year here in Wheeling and may be looking to get back to what he was so successful at during his first stint in the Friendly City. In the Maine move, the Nailers were able to add Jeri-Leon who, to this point in the season, has managed to contribute 19 points in 38 games played, and has also seen time in the AHL last season with the Providence Bruins and the Abbotsford Canucks. That shows me that this young man has the skill to perform at a level that is worthy of AHL looks, so I’d love to see what he could do with a full season here in Wheeling to show his full range of skills. Another important thing to consider is that the Canadian college hockey season recently came to an end, and the NCAA season here in the United States is close to finishing. Wheeling historically has been very successful in bringing in strong collegiate players to give them a chance to adjust to playing at a pro level, and this season should be no exception. As college seasons end, young players become available, and there’s no reason they couldn’t come here to Wheeling to show what they can do at this level. In addition to them, Wheeling also holds “future considerations” from Maine, Worchester, and Florida due to previous trades, meaning the Nailers will get to select players from each of those teams that are on a preapproved list, and that could lead to some really good players come back this way. Overall, while it hurts to see this happen for this season’s team, it definitely gives hope leading into the 2023-24 season. As you said in your last answer, the team appears to be gearing up to see what they could have for the 2023-24 season now with some of the moves they’re making. Based on that as well as what you’re seeing from the guys still on the team coming down the stretch, what are your expectations now for what we should see here in Wheeling next year? I couldn’t help but notice that, with the moves listed above, the Nailers were able to bring in younger guys that I can’t help but think they expect to have a chance to keep around for next year. Boomhower is 24 (in exchange for 26 year old Santerno), Jeri-Leon is 23 (while Johnson is 27), and some of the young men who will be added in the coming weeks will be in their early 20’s as well. Adding a little youth will do multiple things: it will inject the room with the energy of these kids hoping to showcase their skills, while pushing the guys who have been here to work harder to keep their spots the rest of the way and possibly into next year. I think this is exactly what you have to hope for when your team is at the point that Wheeling is at now. Pushing guys to play hard to stay in the lineup while injecting that youthful energy will hopefully allow the Nailers to have some success over the final month of the season. As for how this could affect things going into next year, obviously there are a number of things that can happen between now and then that will affect that. Players will move on from Wheeling if they think that’s the best move for them. The Nailers will continue to bring in other guys who they think will work well under Coach Army’s style and teaching to hopefully turn things around here and make them back into a playoff team. But hopefully, they see something here before the end of the year that allows them to make those decisions now to be ready for the offseason and the new league year. I want to see someone step in and take the leadership opportunity and run with it. I want to see these young guys come to Wheeling hungry to continue their pro careers and earn a chance with the Nailers beyond this abbreviated period. While I haven’t seen what they’re going to do here yet, I expect to see fierce play from these guys, and it definitely gives me hope for next year if they continue to work to build off of whatever they’re able to do during the offseason. With Carter Johnson moving on to play for Maine, who on the roster now gets the Jeff Yost “kiss of death,” aka being known as your “favorite player on the team?” In my defense, I choose not to see it as a “kiss of death,” but rather an appreciation for a player who plays the game the right way. A guy who is able to contribute all the way around, provide offense, have a strong 200 foot game in all three zones on the ice, and do what is asked of them when they go over the boards. I see it as a guy who shows that he makes the effort that teams in a playoff position think will help get them over the edge and help them be successful the rest of the way and hopefully hoisting a trophy after the final game. A player who has the skills that could help them reach higher levels and advance beyond the ECHL, hopefully to the AHL or even to the NHL someday. If you want to look at it as a “kiss of death” for their time here with the Nailers, that’s your prerogative. Looking at the current roster, there are still a number of guys I could choose from, but I think the one I appreciate the most of the guys who are here is Cedric Desruisseaux. He definitely provides that offensive pop, with 25 goals and 25 assists for 50 points while playing in all 59 games thus far this season. He has shown up pretty well on the power play this year also, contributing five goals and seven assists with the man advantage. He also plays the game the right way and has only accumulated 10 penalty minutes to this point. The one area I think he could use a little focus on would be in the defensive zone. I’m not saying he doesn’t work hard there, but something that he could be better at going into next year would be creating his offensive chances in the defensive zone and then turning it into his play moving forward. If he could do that, there’s no question he would deserve a look from the next level. Honorable mention for this has to go to Tyler Drevitch. He has managed to more than triple the number of goals from last season, going from five in 2021-22 to 16 to this point of this season, while also playing in all 59 games to date. He manages to play the game with a bit of an edge, but that’s also the point where he needs to work to clean up his game some. Drevitch has managed to earn 139 penalty minutes already, after earning 112 penalty minutes in only 45 games last year. Things like that won’t fly at higher levels for the most part. I know teams like to have guys who are pests or grinders or who are able to play their game on that line. But earning well over 100 penalty minutes in so few games means you’re effectively handcuffing your team at least once per game. If he is able to clean this up a little and not find himself in the box as much next year, I think he has a good chance at being very successful here in the Friendly City. The Nailers game next Friday against Kalamazoo will have a very special event, as Peter Laviolette and Brock Woods are inducted in the Nailer Hall of Fame. How excited are you for this moment and do you look forward to being in attendance for it? Nostalgia is definitely a wonderful thing when it comes to moments like this. Being able to remember their impact on the Thunderbirds/Nailers franchise by seeing it firsthand helps fans like me appreciate the fact that they’re being recognized by the franchise. I personally can remember seeing Brock Woods play on the ice across the three seasons spent on the ice here in Wheeling with the then-Thunderbirds, and he was a very strong player on the ice. His numbers were never that eye-catching (the most he had in a year was 46 points in 64 games played, and he finished with 122 points in 193 games played in the red and black), but he served as the captain of the team, and he led by example on the ice. You knew that, when he was on the ice, he wasn’t going to back down from a challenge, he would do everything he could to make the play for his team, and his 639 penalty minutes shows that he played with that edge that can be really appreciated at this level. He played on teams with players like Tim Tisdale, Darren Schwartz, and Tim Roberts on the back end with him, and yet Woods still sticks out in my mind as one of the best players on those teams, and I definitely think this honor is well deserved. As for Coach Laviolette, having the chance to see a guy work his way from coaching here in Wheeling to being a Stanley Cup winning head coach with the Carolina Hurricanes (who now unfortunately coaches the Washington Capitals) has been an amazing experience. Although he only spent one season here with the Nailers, it was a very successful year, with the team going 37-24-9 and eventually losing in the conference finals to the Hampton Roads Admirals, who went on to win the championship that year. Laviolette has seen success at every level he’s be able to coach at, and he also stands as the winningest American born coach in NHL history, just head of John Tortorella, which makes me like him even more. Knowing that he got his start right here in Wheeling really does make it special that he has been able to accomplish everything that he has. Having the chance to recognize people who helped contribute to the history of hockey here in Wheeling in their own ways is definitely a wonderful occasion. With how many years this franchise has been here now, and how many more years they will continue to be, it’s always a good feeling when you have a chance to look back at moments and people who were such wonderful contributors and have led to what we have here now. I’ve always prided myself on my ability to be appreciative of what has happened in order to shape what is currently going on, and I think a moment like this should be cherished. I look forward to getting to see this personally, and I really hope everyone else gets to come down to Wesbanco Arena and take part in it as well. Read the full article

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mrsalwayswrite · 4 years

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Tipsy Confessions (Darrell “Shifty” Powers x f!Reader)

So based on this post by @problematicfavesareproblematic because I love it!

Warnings: None...just Shifty cuteness.

Words:3200

Tag list: @happyveday @evelynshelby @sydney-m

He looked down the barrel of his M1 Garand rifle, lining up the sight with the target at the end of the shooting range. The noise of his fellow paratroopers drifted away to blessed silence. There was something for him when lining up his shot, everything else seemed to fade away. The world narrowed down to himself, his rifle and the target. The faint breeze kissed his cheek and made the ends of his hair sway. Shifting the rifle just slightly, he accommodated for the wind. Finally, he was ready. Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, hold, squeeze…

Bang!

"Nice shot, Shifty."

Darrell "Shifty" Powers looked up at the target, an almost perfect bullseye, just a little to the left, then over to his friend standing nearby. "Thanks, Popeye."

"Can we head back now?" Floyd Talbert asked, crossing his arms over his chest.

"Why? You gotta brush your hair or somethin'?" Popeye Wynn teased.

"That's why I get all the dames at the dances and you don't."

"Come on, lectures will start soon." Smoky Gordon stated good-naturedly, then he pointed at Talbert. "And you owe me a pack of smokes. Told you Shifty could hit the target."

"You said bullseye, not just hit the target."

"Well, he did it."

Talbert grumbled but dug the pack out of his pocket and tossed it to a smirking Gordon.

Bang!

Shifty looked over his shoulder in the direction of the gunshot. He thought they were the only ones there. This was his favorite time to practice since everyone else was either at the mess hall or relaxing in their barracks. Usually he came alone but today Popeye decided to keep him company and then from there Gordon joined them, dragging Talbert along.

To his surprise, he saw you a few lanes over, laying on your belly, rifle set in front of you with your finger still on the trigger. The ODs they gave you were just a one or two sizes too big, thus your sleeves and pant legs were rolled up a few times. Somehow you still pulled the look off well. Instead of looking like a child playing dress up in too large clothes, you looked…. well…. good.

Talbert gave a low whistle. "She's a good shot, I'll give her that."

"Even if she arrived with Hitler's head in a sack, Sobel would still hate her." Gordon stated, watching you closely.

"And Guarnere."

Another shot rang out and Shifty would easily admit...he was impressed. Not because you were a dame and knew how to shoot a gun. His mother would string him up sideways for thinking something like that. No, the distance you were shooting at...most of the soldiers did not even try it. Only himself and a few others shot that far with any accuracy.

And you were dead on.

Finally you stood up, slinging the rifle over your shoulder when you noticed the four men staring at you. He could see the hesitation in your usually guarded expression. You had only joined Easy Company once they arrived in Camp Mackall. Sink thought your connections and resources in Europe would prove invaluable to the paratroopers. Unfortunately, by that point, most of the men had bonded and were not looking to add an outsider...especially a woman. Even worse, you spent most of your time with Intelligence so the men could never get a good read on you.

"Hey, doll," Talbert called, a flirtatious smirk lighting up his face, "you going to be a sniper for Easy?"

You moved a little closer, head held high and shoulders back. “If the need arises...and that's Lieutenant to you, not doll."

"Yes, ma'am."

Your gaze moved his way, eyes assessing with just a look that seemed to see more than they let on. "Are you Private Powers?"

"Ah, everyone calls me Shifty, ma'am."

"You're an excellent shot. If you have the time, I'd appreciate some pointers from you. I'm better with a pistol."

He could feel the blush rising on his cheeks. "It's not a problem, ma'am. I'm… I'm not sure how I can help though. You're an excellent shot yourself."

Your lips turned upward at the corners but you just shrugged. "Thank you, but there's always room to improve."

"How good are you with a pistol?" Talbert asked, gaze skimming over you. "Think you can hit that target?"

The target he pointed at was only about five yards away, any paratrooper was expected to hit at that distance. It was almost an insult to think you could not.

And the look on your face after he asked...you definitely took it as an insult.

Without removing your eyes from Talbert's grinning face, you pulled the pistol off your hip, pointed at the target and unloaded it.

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang, bang.

"Have a good day, boys. Shifty, I hope we can talk soon." You stated, switching from staring down Talbert to a small smile at Shifty. Then you stomped away, reholstering the pistol, rifle still slung over your shoulder.

Shifty's gaze moved to the target and froze. All six shots were in the center of the bullseye...which you had shot at without looking.

"Tab, you better not piss her off. She don't even have to look at you to kill you." Popeye japed.

Shifty's eyes darted back to your retreating form in awe. He had never met a woman like you before. And damn, if watching you shoot did not do something to him.

"Oh, now that's a knockout." He softly said, unable to tear his eyes from you. Never mind him giving you pointers, he wondered what you could teach him!

"Yeah, yeah. She can shoot." Tab muttered, turning to head back into camp.

"You're just mad she showed more interest in Shifty than you." Gordon joked then screeched when Talbert hit him upside his head.

Shifty ignored their taunts as the group walked back towards their barracks. He found you beautiful, any man with eyes could see you were attractive. But watching you shoot, that focused look on your face and the confidence you held...that was going to be a problem for him, he could already tell.

Especially with the way he kept having to readjust his pants so the others would not notice the effect you had on him.

*****

"You're starin' again."

"Mmm?" Shifty blinked, it took a long minute for his friend's words to sink into his brain. When they finally resonated, he practically jumped in his seat, face turning red. "What? No, no, I'm not."

"You're starin' at her like Perconte when he sees garlic bread." Popeye stated, clearly amused if the shit-eating grin said anything.

"What?" Perconte yelled further down the table.

"Nothin', Frank! Wasn't talkin' to you!"

An argument broke out with Perconte demanding to know why Popeye said his name. Shifty only half listened, his gaze drifting back to you across the mess hall. You were facing away from him, talking with some of Easy's officers.

It had been several weeks since the encounter at the shooting range. Since then whenever you were around, he became a bumbling mess. He stumbled over his words, a blush continuously heated his face, a couple times he tripped when you would casually touch his shoulder or arm. Yet the whole time you were kind and patient with him, ignoring his awkwardness. Or at least he hoped so. A few times the two of you would find the other at the range and shoot together, giving one another pointers or creating silly competitions. It was during this that he realized he was falling for you.

Hard.

Like jumping out of an airplane without a parachute and feeling gravity control one's descent as if that person was just along for the ride.

It did not take long for the others to notice how his gaze was always on you when you were nearby. How his brain ceased to function properly as if you were all he could focus on. How he would go out of his way to try and say hi to you every day. The dopey smile on his face when you smiled or laughed, even if you were across the room.

And thus, the teasing began.

One of the more embarrassing moments was when Sobel was leading a strategy practice in the woods, quickly getting everyone killed from his impatience. Shifty, you and two others were forced to be left behind as wounded while everyone else tramped back to the rendezvous point. During those hours of laying in the grass, you and him, lying next to each other, began a quiet, running dialogue telling stories from your lives. Who taught you to shoot, what you were doing before the war, favorite foods, ect.

Once the four of you were relieved and allowed to return to the rendezvous point, you broke away to return to your separate barracks to clean up. When Shifty returned to 3rd Platoon, they immediately teased him about his rumpled clothing, the grass in his hair and if he remembered to wear a condom when you two….

He still blushed thinking about some of the graphic things they said.

Not that his mind had not enjoyed picking up those images and replaying them in his dreams.

*****

He was drunk.

Or at least tipsy.

A part of him knew going out was a bad idea. He never drank. Just did not like the taste of beer. It always sat like lead in his gut. But at the moment, he did not care.

Easy celebrated the fact that they were moving on from Camp Mackall soon. One step closer to be official paratroopers. One step closer to war. Drinks were flowing, some even found local women to dance with in the bar. Glenn Miller crooned over the radio. Sobel was gone on a forced weekend pass. Everyone was in high spirits.

Shifty sat at a table with a few others from Easy, listening to Luz tell some story...and he kept giggling.

Giggling!

Popeye was giving him an amused side-eye as he sipped his own beer. They all knew Shifty did not drink. Sure, he got teased about it but most respected it. For a very specific reason tonight when someone offered him a beer, he took it. And then another. And another.

He felt sort of floaty as he sat there. Everything was funny. His head was spinning slightly but it did not ache. That was good, right? He could still see straight...mostly. He was beginning to see why the others drank often.

When he looked around the bar, he finally spotted what had made him start drinking. You reclined at a table talking to Lt Winters and Lt Nixon, which was unsurprising. What was different was the dress you wore. It molded to you in sinful ways and dear God! he almost swallowed his tongue when you walked into the bar. Between that dress, the red lipstick and victory rolls in your hair, he swore even sunrises were jealous of your beauty. Others definitely noticed, a few buying you drinks but you refused to dance with anyone. A comradery had finally developed between you and the men of Easy, most accepted your presence and the intelligence you provided. Plus, your marksmanship added points and willingness to take the brunt of Sobel's verbal abuse.

You laughed at something Nixon said, head tipped back and a hand on your chest. A sappy smile grew on Shifty's face as he watched your joy radiate. He loved seeing you smile and laugh. Even if he was not the cause of it, he liked you being happy. You had the ability to make even the gloomiest day seem like the peak of summer sunshine.

Excusing yourself from the table, you started towards the outside door. With a bright smile, you redirected slightly and stopped at his table before passing it.

"You boys having a good time?"

A chorus of "yeahs" answered from those around.

"So, when are you going to admit you're in love with me?" Talbert asked, cigarette between his lips. Over the past weeks, he shamelessly flirted with you, even more than Luz but everyone knew it was done jokingly and when superior officers were not around.

"Mmm...the same time Sobel admits he has a hidden stash of pornography in his footlocker."

Malarkey's chair dropped back down onto its four legs as he gaped at you. "And how in the hell would you know that?"

You just winked. "Well, I'm off. Have a good evening, boys."

As you stepped away, Shifty found himself stumbling to his feet to catch up. "Y/n, ma'am."

You stopped, turning to watch him as he approached your side. There was no plan, no rationale in his following you. It was almost instinctual. He wanted to be near you...to hear you laugh again...be graced with one of your brilliant smiles. Now though, as you stood in front of him, waiting for him to speak, his brain sluggishly tried to come up with a reason for him to be near you.

"I'll walk you back if you like. It’s...you...you shouldn't walk 'round alone none." His words tumbled out, somewhat coherently in his rush so he was not just awkwardly staring at you.

You smiled, your face lighting up. "Thanks, Shifty."

A giggle escaped him and he practically felt his heart splatter on the floor at your feet. You were so beautiful and looking at you made him feel warm inside. Or was that the alcohol?

A few wolf whistles follow you both out but he did not pay attention. He floated walking next to you...or felt like he did. He was unsure. His boots caught on a rock and he stumbled faintly but tried to play it off. For some reason the ground swayed just enough under his feet. It reminded him of the floating dock in the next town over from his home, how it was stable yet unsteady. The stars were really pretty tonight. Not as pretty as you. Oops...he stumbled again and a giggle slipped out.

"Are you well?"

"Ah?" He looked over at you, your eyebrows furrowed and eyes scanning him as if for an injury. "Yes, yes." He giggled out. Why would he be injured? No more Currahee!

And then he tripped, almost landing on his face if you had not caught his arm.

"Stop. Stop. Look at me." You moved to stand in front of him, placing your hands on his chest to hold him still.

Your touch sent an electric current through him. It sharpened the warmth of your hands on his chest, how good they felt there. How your breath ghosted over his face as you peered at him. How close your bodies were. No one could ever compare to you. His feelings, his affections, bubbled up inside of him like a champagne bottle after being shaken, threatening to explode.

But he could not say anything. No! It would be wrong. So wrong. Not right. You were a superior officer...and... just incredible.

"Shifty, are you-"

"I like you. " He suddenly blurted out. The cork of the champagne bottle finally popping off.

You tipped your head to the side, watching him. Your hands still on his chest, still so close to him. Your eyes seemed to draw him in and he did not have the strength to escape their current, pulling secrets and truths from him.

Before he could stop it, his mouth disconnected from his brain and went on autopilot. Secrets and thoughts spilled out he had never told anyone. "I think youse beautiful and strong and an amazin' shot...and... I like you but not like...I like Popeye or Gordon or Lipton, no. I like-like you... like I want to kiss you and hear you laugh. But I can't tell you cos youse an officer and you would just laugh at me. I love watchin' you shoot. Rogers says you have a great ass but that don't matter to me cos, well truth is, I think I--"

You slapped a hand over his mouth, clogging the outpouring of words. "Are you drunk?"

He shook his head then changed his mind and nodded. Christ, he hoped he was drunk. Maybe you would ignore his ramblings then. Oh, what had he done? What happened? If he suddenly sprinted away, could he somehow hide from you for the rest of the war and he could pretend this never happened?

"Right. Here's what we are going to do." You tapped his chest with your pointer finger, drawing his attention back to you and ceasing his inner panic. "I am going to walk you to your barracks so you can sleep this off. After everything you just said, if you still feel this way in the morning, I want you to tell me all this when you are sober. Since I like-like you too. If not, then you owe me breakfast in exchange for my silence, jerk, and we'll never speak of this again." You smiled, other hand still on his mouth. "Nod if you agree."

He did not think he ever agreed to anything so quickly in his entire life.

"Good, let's get you back now." You pulled your hand away from his mouth and slipped it around his arm. Together you two walked, arm in arm, towards his barracks.

Shifty still felt like he was floating on air. For more than one reason.

*****

A few hours later, just as the sun was rising, he stood outside the barrack you were staying at. Practically bouncing on his toes, he knocked on the wooden door. Thankfully you stayed there alone since there were no other female paratroopers. You opened the door wearing an oversized shirt and gym shorts, hair amess and a sleepy smile on your face.

"I still think you are the most beautiful woman and I like-like you a lot." He exclaimed without preamble...and then paused. "And I'm sober."

"I like you too, Shifty."

A stupid grin spread across his face, cheeks warming up but he did not mind for once. "Can... can I... hug you, ma'am?"

You laughed lightly before grabbing the front of his ODs and yanking him inside, slamming the door behind him. Before he could utter a word, you pushed him against the closed door and slammed your lips against his, your hands gripping his ODs tightly.

Oh.

Oh!

This was much better than a hug.

Cupping your face, he returned the kiss fervently. He sank into your mouth, loving the feel of you pressed against him, how everything seemed to fade away and your touch and taste were all that mattered. You deepened the kiss, your tongue slipping into his mouth. If you did not have him pinned to the door, his knees would have given out. His hands slipped to the back of your head, tangling in your hair. Your tongues fought for dominance, which he would gladly let you win if only you did not stop. But it was when you whispered his name against his mouth that he almost came undone right there.

Finally you broke apart, desperate for air. Both of your chests heaving like you had been sprinting up Currahee. Staring into your face, your pupils blown wide, lips red and swollen; he decided he liked this even more than watching you shoot. Then he dove back into your mouth with unbridled passion, wanting to test how good your accuracy was in other ways.

Yes, this was much better than a hug.

#band of brothers #Band of Brothers fandom #band of brothers fanfic #ww2 #world war 2 #shifty powers #shifty powers x reader #darrell powers #mzwrites

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welllpthisishappening · 3 years

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Welllp This Is...Holiday Fic, Version 3.0

Hello, internet! It is December, and that means it is also time to regain our festive feelings through holiday-type fic. Of which I have written just...an absurd amount of. So, before we start slamming on some more keys with inevitable cliches and kissing (and the list of prompts I’m going to post later and maybe start writing tomorrow) here is a wholly self-indulgent, self-promotional list of the copious number of holiday stories I’ve written. Under the cut, because honestly it’s ridiculous.

Multi Chapters

To Make the Season Bright Rating: M Words: 49,683 Chapters: 5

It's just one weekend. At Christmas. In New York. With everyone there. With Killian there. It's fine. Emma doesn't mind – he's always there and she wants him to be there and it'll be good. Great, even. Festive. She's looking forward to it. She just hopes she doesn't do something stupid. Like shout feelings in his face. That probably wouldn't be very festive.

The Gift Receipt Rating: M Words: 46,244 Chapters: 5

It genuinely makes sense in her head. After all, Mary Margaret is being Mary Margaret and Emma just needs five seconds to herself and for her friends to get off her back and saying she can’t talk to Killian Jones because she and Killian Jones once went on a very bad date is the perfect excuse. It’s also not true, but whatever. It works. Until Emma needs to bring someone home for Christmas. To get the entire town off her back. So, she comes up with another plan and another lie and pretending to get back together with a guy she was never actually with will make their inevitable break-up incredibly easy. It makes sense. Seriously. That is, of course, until Killian agrees and there’s far too much pie and radio hits of the 70s and opinions on animated Christmas classics. It gets a little more complicated after that.

Older Now, But Not Done Hoping Rating: T Words: 25,577 Chapters: 3

Killian Jones has lost his festive spirit. It's been forcibly removed by corporate America and private developers and how much alcohol the customers at his bar drink every night. Although, he supposes, that means he's making a profit, but that also feels a little Scrooge-esque and he doesn't have time for visits from ghosts. Because he's suddenly got a whole schedule in front of him, written out and planned by his roommate. To reclaim their mutual and collective festivity. Together. Oh, and he's in love with her. At Christmas. And all the time, really. This is going to be great.

It’s the Thought That Counts Rating: M Words: 27, 178 Chapters: 3

It was, in theory, a good idea. It was, in theory, an absolutely fantastic idea. Because there was still, sometimes, a crisis or two in Storybrooke and nothing would be more chaotic than trying to find a Christmas present on Main Street, while also trying to keep said Christmas present a secret. Ordering gifts on the internet makes sense. It's just a few clicks and online sales and the presents will be there in plenty of time for Christmas to be perfect. Emma and Killian are positive. Except then the presents don't show up and it's Christmas Eve and plan B isn't so much a plan as it is just a bit of pre-holiday desperation and the entire town knows what they're up to.

One Shots

The Best Laid Plains Rating: T Words: 4,040

Emma knows what she wants. And she remembers what the qualifications are. She just needs some help with them. Or: She and Killian once decided they'd only get married if one of them came out with an outlandish proposal.

Following the Recipe Rating: T Words: 3,802

Emma can't bake cookies. That doesn't stop her from engaging in cookie-baking competitions. At Christmas. And Killian is more than happy to help.

Grounded Rating: T Words: 6,064

Being stuck at the airport is the worst at normal times. At Christmas, it's at least ten-thousand times worse. Unless you manage to make friends with the vaguely attractive, frustratingly charming guy sitting next to you in the terminal.

Carol of the [Wedding] Bells Rating: T Words: 7,926

Going to Vegas with your friends for Christmas? Totally normal. Getting married to one of your friends while in Vegas at Christmas? Might take a bit more explaining. Especially when neither one of you can remember it.

More Than You Could Ever Know Rating: T Words: 5,040

It’s the perfect plan. So, she told the new guy at work that she was already married and couldn’t date him. Fine, no big deal. Emma has someone more than wiling to pretend to be her husband and a friend more than willing to do her pre-party hair. She’s certain everything will work out. The very last thing she expects is for Killian to be jealous. Because she might have picked the wrong Jones brother to play doting husband.

Once Again As in Olden Days Rating: T Words: 6,462

She’s absolutely freezing cold. It’s a dumb metaphor, one that only serves to make Emma even more pissed off than she already is. Because two hours ago it was summer. But a few more hours before that, she was also locked in a tower guarded by a fire-breathing dragon. And now she’s outside. With her kid. And a pirate that isn’t hers, explicitly, but keeps staring at her like he wouldn’t mind if he was. So maybe it’s not the worst. Maybe she’ll be able to get warm eventually.

Want Something That Will Last Forever Rating: T Words: 5,093

The weight in his jacket pocket is getting heavier. Burning a hole. A metaphorical one. Because a literal one would probably freak David out and David is already worried enough and Killian is a very good friend. Who is willing to help David plan his proposal to Mary Margaret. Even if it messes everything else up in the process.

A Fair, Even-Handed, Noble Adjustment of Things Rating: T Words: 9,267

Emma just wants to do something good. Give back. Maybe get a few bonus points. Metaphorically speaking. Not the last one. That defeats the purpose of all of this. But she can’t really think straight because he keeps humming and using nicknames and stealing all the flour. And she’d give up all the bonus points she’s, maybe, accumulated by, possibly, doing good if she could just remember what his name is. This is not going the way she planned. At all.

Heart to Heart and Hand in Hand Rating: T Words: 7,052

She was cold. She was tired. She did not want to be ice skating. She wasn’t really ice skating. She was just…kind of standing there – while getting yelled at by security guards and stared at by her boyfriend and they were being pushed off the ice. Not literally. And Emma knew she was being a Grinch or, maybe, just Max the Dog because she wasn’t in control enough to be a Grinch, but Killian wanted to go ice skating and well…fake it ‘til you make it festivity, right?

Kiss Her Once [For Me] Rating: T Words: 9,500

To say that the last year has been hectic would be the greatest understatement in the history of the modern world. Or, like, libel. In print, it’s libel. Because the last year has been filled with political promises and campaigns and far more press conferences than Emma realized were possible. And now, with Washington D.C. ahead of them, the only thing Emma really wants is to figure out how many boxes she’ll need to move all her stuff. That is, of course, until Killian finds her sitting in the middle of Regina’s hallway, a distinct lack of alcohol in her system, and the guarantee that he’s got a plan. For fun. Of the festive variety. It includes mistletoe.

Prompt: Santa!Con Rating: T Words: 2,444

Killian is very drunk. There are people dressed like Santa everywhere. And Emma isn't sure she heard the question correctly. She might be a little drunk too, honestly.

Prompt: Killian Wakes Up Without Any Blankets Rating: T Words: 2,444

He's freezing. Presumably because his wife — who he loves very much — has once again stolen all the blankets.

Tripping Over the Blue Line

A Few Days Off for Christmas Rating: T Words: 11,903

Matt's first Christmas at the brownstone means several things. Chinese food. Bad bread pudding. And unexpected guests.

A Chance of Snow Showers Rating: T Words: 3,372

Everything's a competition on this team. So no one is all that surprised when Killian agrees to race during family skate. Even with a baby strapped to his chest.

Dropping Gloves...In the Name of Festive Fashion Rating: T Words: 3,038

It’s probably one of the more ridiculous things any of them have ever done. It’s also one of the better ideas any of them has ever had – it’s festive and in the spirit and the fans will love it. And maybe it’s kind of fun because it ends with another win and some positive press before the break and Phillip’s jacket is really just…a work of fashion art.

All Knotted Up Rating: T Words: 2,188

He’s never actually done anything like this – brought a girl home for Christmas. No, not just a girl – Emma. Emma was coming to the brownstone for Christmas and the entire Vankald family would be there with traditions and bread pudding and there had to be gifts.

He needed to buy a gift. Or, at least, get a gift. And the list of people who wouldn’t laugh right in his face at the idea of Killian Jones, captain of the New York Rangers, freaking out about that was growing more and more slim by the minute.

We’ll Take a Cup [Defense] Of Kindness Rating: M Words: 19,204 Chapters: 2

It's one night. New Year's Eve. And a whole list of rules. Because Regina might have actually lost her mind. Or maybe that's just Emma. Because they've played a million games in two days, or it's at least felt that way, and planning an outdoor practice a few weeks before the Olympics seemed like a good idea at one point. Now it just seems insane. So she's going to wear this dress and kiss her boyfriend. A lot. He's good. Better than good. Great. The greatest. It's New Year's Day and, yeah, sure it's freezing, but Killian hasn't actually tried to push Scarlet on the Subway tracks yet so that seems like a step in the right direction. So he's a little distracted a few weeks before the Olympics, but that's fine. It's good. Or it'll be good. Eventually. Soon. In the meantime he's probably just going to kiss his girlfriend. A lot.

First Line Center Rating: T Words: 9,508 Chapters: 2

She hadn’t read the invitation. It hadn’t changed in years, after all - a set of rules and expectations for a New Year’s party that they were all going to break anyway because the most traditional thing about this team was flouting tradition. So, Emma had mostly ignored it. Until. A shout and Killian refusing to wear a tie and something crashing in her kitchen, one kid worried about another and she couldn’t shake the feeling that she was missing something. There was a joke about fresh ice to be made, she was sure.

#cs ff #captain swan #captain swan ff #cs fic #captain swan fic #there are a lot of words here #and somehow the full week of writing i had got away from me very quickly #so we're going back to the same prompt list as last year to try and regain some sense of productivity #anyway that's coming later #for now here's all the holiday-type kissing i've written already #more blue line than i remembered honestly

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a-forgotten-spirit · 4 years

Text

Love Isn’t An Illusion (7)

Pairing: Todoroki x Bakugou, Todoroki x Reader x Bakugou, VERY SLOW BUILD

Summary: Getting supplies for the camping trip with some fun rivalry swimming.

Words: +-7600 (I have problems)

Warnings: bad parenting, overbearing parents, overthinking, talking about bathing suits, fear of public places, over planning, wearing a skirt, anxiety, protective Shoji, being noticed by fans, social metres, explaining swimwear, saying you have a chest (sorry if you dont, itty bitty titties are good too!), explanations of clothing, the league, undressing and people looking at you (not sexual), being self conscious, overly competitive,

Tagged: @kittycatspervertedheart @lemorrite @gwendlynn @marleps @thicctati2 @saitamastamaticsoup @succulent-momma @aurorahoneybuns @imjusttireddudes @misconceptualised @ochabby @katsukisuwus @gayverlinq @star-witchs-blog @fallbb123 @icyhotpie @kyrah-williams

A/N: I wrote this for the fans. I do not own My Hero academia or the characters, I don’t own most of the plot for this story, I had watched the show and re-written the dialogue and plot as if the reader was the main character. Everything is centred around the reader. Please comment, makes me happy. Ask if you wish to be tagged. Patreon is still in the works as I’m not confident to do it however, for now I am doing commission stories if anyone is interested

Masterlist

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3 Chapter 4 Chapter 5 Chapter 6

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Chapter 7

Walking into the house my mother walked up to me hands on her hips and she looked ready for a fight. I was tired and just wanted to go lay down. I wasn’t in the mood to deal with her right now or at any given point if I was honest but after the exam I had, I quite enjoyed turning my brain off for a few days.

“Who dropped you off” she inquired immediately. I sighed and hoisted my bag onto my back more comfortably as I looked up to see her. My head was pounding and Bakugou's jumper was so warm and fluffy I just wanted to go to sleep.

“Friends from school” I answered, my heart did the weird thing where it decided to not work and beat quicker then it should. I was there with my friends. Todoroki was always ready to help me move around and helped me through the panic attack while Bakugou had brought me food and gave me his jumper. I was thankful for both. Her hand moved in a continuous motion as if to continue “Bakugou and Todoroki” I answered.

“Todoroki, like Endeavor Todoroki,” she asked and I nodded slowly “His son, with the fire and ice. You’re friends with his son” I nodded again. She’s never been interested in heroes, at least whenever I talked about them “Oh darling look at you. He is a fine choice to swoon. Money and looks, he will make a great friend. I have to meet his father”

I was blank. She had to be joking right. I did not just fight ten Pro heroes for my mother to go on about how I'm friends with someone as if I had something to gain “I’m friends with Todoroki for Todoroki, not Endeavor. I do not like Endeavor and I never will. I like Todoroki for who he is not who he is related to” I said slowly as if I had to sound it out.

“Oh sure” she huffed and I knew this wouldn’t leave so I left it, she could think all she wanted, it meant nothing to me. “Bakugou, Bakugou” she whispered and hand on her chin. What was she doing? “Bakugou like the fashion designers” my head fell as I sighed out and shook my head “You are going for the top aren’t you. Just like your mum”

“Ok, whatever. Think what you want but I like them for them” she continued to go on as I shook my head again and then walked away up the stairs and into my room. Placing my phone on to charge I wiggled my arms into the jumper and unzipped my hero costume before falling into bed and falling asleep.

This morning was long, filled with questions about the boys and what they did, who I liked more. I didn’t answer a single one. I was not in the mood. I pulled on my uniform folding Bakugous’ jumper and left it on my bed. If he didn’t want me to keep it I could say I just forgot it, easy. I chose to pull on the UA jumper I had specifically asked for and then I was ready for school. My mother offered to drive, I accepted and put in my music to ignore her. Headphones covering my head and ears. Arriving I thanked her and I was off to class, as I was walking down the hall I could hear Kaminari yelling, he didn’t pass.

Aizawa walked in and I quickly followed “Sorry” I could see the looks but one glare from Aizawa and everyone was quiet. I made my way to my seat quickly, sitting down and placing my headphones in my bag out of the way, looking up and paying full attention.

“Morning, unfortunately, there are a few of you who did not pass your final exams. So when it comes to the training camp in the woods” he paused then his head raised a wide smile as his eyes did the same “Everyone is going” that was good. Kaminairi and Mina looked quite upset. They all asked if he was being honest and that they got to come with the rest of us “Yeah. The good news is no one bombed the written exam. Five failed the practical badly. Two teams of course and Sero failed as well” I could hear a quiet yell. I forgot he got caught with Midnight and fell asleep the whole time. “Allow me to explain, the practical the teachers made sure to leave a way for the students to win” my eyes fell and I shook my head “Except Y/N” he nodded and I looked away. They did no such thing. “Otherwise you never would have stood a chance” I rolled my eyes.

“I think I did just fine thank you” I whispered and played with the ends of my sleeve. I spent three days in the hospital to win that goddamned test. I knew some people heard that at the little chuckles around me.

“We were interested in observing how each of you approached the task at hand. The training camp will focus on strength” this was going to be a long camp, my head rested on my palm as I looked to Aizawa. I need to work on harnessing my quirk and not passing out every time I go overboard. “Those who failed will need those lessons the most, we were never going to separate you” leave it to the teachers to absolutely scare everyone in the class for no reason “That was just a logical deception we used” his smile was bright, he was quite proud of himself.

“He tricked us all, I should have expected this” Iida voiced I turned seeing him quickly lunge up from his seat “Mr Aizawa this is the second time you’ve lied to us aren’t you afraid we will lose faith in you” he was standing straight his hand up in the air as he yelled. He had a point but I don’t think the teacher cared.

“That’s a good point, I'll consider it” No he won’t, he enjoyed making us stress and try our best “But I wasn’t lying to you about everything” this man was full of surprises and it was making my head fuzzy. “Failure is failure” I smiled so not a topic for me. “We’ve prepared extra lessons for the five of you” the mood dropped drastically amongst the five. “Frankly they’ll be far tougher than what you’ll face at summer school” at least he was honest.

The rest of the day went by as usual and I talked to Bakugou and Todoroki mostly a few people coming up to me to give their congratulations and a few telling me they thought I had died when I just fell. I laughed at that comment.

“I had about a hundred thoughts playing at once so I overworked my brain” I smiled and scratched the back of my head, a nervous habit I picked up when I was younger. I saw confused faces. “Each illusion is a single thought if they act differently so by the end of the match I had about a hundred independent thoughts going through my head at once”

I was bombarded with questions as I answered them without giving too much information away. I had Mina hugging me tightly at one point in tears about how worried she was, I swear my hair was wet by the end of it. I smiled, genuinely. I did have the best class anyone could ask for. This was one of the first days I wasn’t rushing to study or do anything, it felt nice and I had friends.

“We’re at the training camp for a full week” Iida readout, he seemed shocked and I nodded to myself. Another week without my parents, what more could I wish for. My parents had signed off on it earlier in the year not caring for what I did.

“No way, I’ll need a bigger suitcase” Midoriya pondered and I thought to my belongings. I had a big enough suitcase. When I got along with my parents we had gone on a few holidays so I just had to find it.

“No kidding, I don’t even have a bathing suit” the thought sent shivers down my spine. I would be fearful to get into the water knowing if Kaminari sneezed I could be electrocuted and die. He had control but still, it was worrying. I didn’t often go swimming so I too would need to buy one. “Guess I need to buy some stuff”

“Guys since we are off tomorrow and we’re finished exams I have the best idea” Torus’ happy voice sang out her uniform moving indicating she raised her arms in excitement. Everyone seemed interested now. “Why doesn’t class 1-A go shopping together” it wasn’t a bad idea. I preferred to go shopping with people I knew then alone I had to admit I feared to be alone in public places just as much as the next person.

“Hey yeah, we’ve never hung out as a class before” Kaminari smiled as Uraraka nodded enthusiastically. I could hear everyone agreeing and getting more excited about the weekend's events. I too was quite excited though, did they mean everyone in the class?

“Bakugou, see you there, right” Leave it to Kirishima to always ask if the explosive blonde would attend a get-together. I like that Bakugou had friends and seemed to get along with people, even if it was only a select few.

“I can’t think of anything more annoying” his eyes were closed and face distasteful as he grimaced at the mere thought of seeing anyone in school out in public. I smiled and rolled my eyes silently as he walked off from the group hands in his pockets and back slouched.

Everyone was talking and I smiled happily though I could hear Midoriya ask Todoroki if he was going to join the class on our little adventure “I visit my mum on days off” he smiled, small but it was there. Did he live with his dad but not his mum? Maybe they were divorced or something. I was sad he wouldn’t be there but I could understand why. I didn’t blame him.

“Party poopers, don’t you ever get tired of being so serious” Mineta shouted, I would’ve liked both Bakugou and Todoroki to come but they had their things on. I had made friends with the class so hopefully, I wouldn’t be left to my own devices but if so I was more than capable of shopping on my own.

“What about you Y/N” I turned to look at Jirou who had asked the question “Are you going to come” she smiled and I saw a few of the other girls smile in response. I was being offered, I had friends. I would never regret coming to this school.

“Yeah” I nodded and stood from my desk patting my skirt down to my legs “I need some swimwear and hiking clothes” I scratched the back of my head nervously “I live in jumpers and long pants so I’ll need some outdoors clothes” I didn’t leave the house much before this year. I stayed in my room and played games now I was studying non-stop.

“We can help with that” Uraraka put her fist in the air and I nodded unbeknownst that a few boys were more than interested in the conversation I was having. “You’ll be an outdoors person in no time” I laughed rather loudly and nodded.

“I look forward to it” and I wasn’t lying I was beyond excited for this camp, the whole thing a new experience and I hadn’t gone on ‘holiday’ in quite some time if I was honest.

We all walked out of the room and set up a group chat for the weekend, I waved everyone goodbye and began my trek home. Headphones on and music blaring to calm myself through the walk, it was long but when I arrived home I could see my parents were home. I walked up to the two of them turning down my music and pushing the headset from my head to my neck.

“I’m going out with the class over the week to go shopping for the camp” I stated, they didn’t care what I did. I could see my mother think for a moment and then nodded, remembering something.

“Yes you did make it into that camp, my bank is still connected to your card, get everything you need. A week was it” she asked not looking up, they had no concept of money because they had so much. I didn’t spend a lot of money but I did need things for the week trip. I nodded. “Ok” then I was off to my room.

I searched my room for my suitcase, it was just a plain black hard suitcase that was big enough for a week's trip. Suitcase, done. I got out my phone and began to make a list of the things I would need. It was long but I wanted everything to be perfect and if I had no purchase limit why not spoil myself for once.

Once the list was done I looked at the group chat and saw all the details Iida had set up sending a quick “Thank you” and mentioning Iida I was off and ready for bed. I had had dinner between rummaging through my room and making my list.

Waking up the next morning I did my usual routine and stretched, I felt so relaxed no studying for me though I liked that I was still busy in away. I liked to keep myself busy. When you do things for so long and then stop you have to find something to replace it. I walked out into my room in my underwear and sighed, what was I going to wear? What was everyone going to wear? We were going to the shopping centre so casual but something I could easily take off if I needed to try things on. I laughed, I could use my illusions to see how they would look. Cute it was.

I opened my wardrobe searching through my long-sleeved shirts until I found a black long-sleeved shirt with holes in the sleeves held together by an F/C lace-like strip that crossed over each other to the bottom of the sleeve. Short black skirt with my shirt tucked into baggily. I moved to my accessories drawers and opened it to see my belts. My F/C belt would go perfect matching the strips of lace, I placed it through the hoops in the skirt and smiled. Some simple boots and the look was complete. I brushed my hair and placed my little backpack on my back. Pull of a portable charger, my wallet and just my everyday things. Walking out I walked past my parents and I was off on my adventure sending a message I would be a few minutes late due to buses not matching up for me.

I hopped off the bus saying a quick thank you before I left to go into the centre, turning on my phone one last time to check I had the right information. I looked up and saw the group then looked down, was I too casual? I began to panic and shook my head. These were my friends, these were my people.

“Hey guys, sorry for being a little late” I called out and watched as they turned to me smiling lighting up and waves being thrown though I didn’t miss the double takes I was receiving from a few of them. I walked up to them and stood in the little group we had formed.

Everyone seemed quite excited but Midoriya was looking around in awe and muttering to himself about how all the shops captured almost every single quirk known. I laughed and felt my arm get hooped to Mina who was jumping around and full of energy like usual. I smiled.

“You’re going to scare the children” Tokoyami blandly stated and shook his head crossing his arms in fake seriousness, at least, I thought it was fake. “Stop” I heard a few laughs as Midoriya blushed in embarrassment.

“Wow, aren’t they UA students” a bystander called out and I turned to see a little group of people forming, this was a downfall of being in the top school but there was nothing we could do. I was going to become a hero and having fans was part of that.

“1-A” another called out as I looked to the three men looking overly excited to see the group in public. After the sports festival, I couldn’t blame them but still yelling across the mall hallway was a lot for my anxiety. I hadn’t even thought about if anyone recognised us.

“I saw them on TV” so my accusations were right, they had seen us at the festival most likely and then the thought of my video saving people and Hero Killer Stain came into my mind. I gripped the straps of my backpack, Mina having left my side a few minutes ago. I moved to stand behind Shoji who immediately moved to shield me from the view.

Even with all the people talking and fanning Jiro and Momo were just talking about what they needed to get and see, they chose to go together. They were such good friends. I smiled at the interaction.

“You ok,” Shoji asked his mask moving slightly with the question. I nodded and saw a few people turned to look at my still slightly shielded figure. I flushed and turned away from the looks.

“I’m just anxious about people looking at me” he nodded and rubbed my back to calm me down “Sorry about that” I could see people shake their hands and smile, it made me feel a lot better.

“We all have our weaknesses, though you seem so confident when fighting” Kirishima pointed out and again they nodded in agreement. My hand came to my chin to think, they were right.

“I’m far too competitive to lose it just comes off as confidence” I laughed and scratched the back of my head my cheeks reddening at the confession “I’m one of the most competitive people you’ll ever meet. One of the downfalls of my personality” I nodded and heard a few laughs in response.

When everyone was done saying what they needed or wanted for the trip Kirishima spoke up “Why don’t we split up and look around, we can meet up here when we are done. It’s noon so let’s say we all meet up here at three” I heard a chorus of sure's and yes’ as we all broke off.

I walked off with Shoji and Tokoyami having asked if I could tag along to the supplies store. I said I’d meet up with the girls later so I could buy some swimwear with them. We were talking and walking around until we made it to the store. Shoji grabbing a basket for us. I had moved my headphones to my bag but when I walked I could hear the keychains bounce.

“What do you need Y/N,” Tokoyami asked and Shoji came back into the conversation from looking around. I hummed for a second taking out my phone and unlocking the device showing them both a photo.

“I wanted to buy this, It’s a PowerPoint that has four docks for plugs and then three USB hubs. Just in case there aren't enough powerpoints I thought this would be good to bring” I explained and then pulled the phone back scrolling down “It says this store has them but I’ve never been here so I might have to ask someone” I whispered looking back up to the boys.

“I didn’t even know they had those kinds of things but that is a very good idea” Shoji nodded impressed with the find and I handed him my phone saying to scroll as they also had others he might be interested in.

“Yeah Y/N has a good point, we have no idea where we are going and it would be good to be prepared for anything” Tokoyami nodded and moved to look at the phone as well “They are very practical” he added and I nodded. “Anything else,” he asked my phone being handed back to me.

“A flashlight maybe, I don’t know where we are and if I have to go to the bathroom in the middle of nowhere I would like to know where I am going” a hum from Tokoyami and a firm agreeing nod from Shoji we began our quest for the items.

It was an enjoyable trip as we rushed through each aisle and tried to find the products. The workers had told us isle five near the back to the left though all three of us stared at the shelf. “Are you guys seeing something I’m not?” I asked, turning to them.

“No” Shoji shook his head and then tilted to shake his head, “They said isle five” we all looked up, we were in that aisle. “To the back” we were to the back of the isle “On the left” his voice went to nothing as I moved to crouch down.

I moved a few boxes looking at the signs and then I saw them “Found them” I called out and heard a sigh of relief as I leaned forward to grab them from the back of the shelf, there were three left. I hugged them to my chest. “There’s three left” I sighed and moved to put them in the basket “No one in the class can get them” I smirked and we all laughed at the situation of us being overly prepared.

Moving onto finding flashlights and a few other things including bug spray and a travel utility kit. “What about portable charges, there may not even be electricity. We could be camping” Tokoyami spoke up and I shrugged nodding.

“Good point, we have no idea where we are going. I have one but when I was looking for the ports I saw one that can charge your phones up to four times in one charge” they were both interested in this new information as I showed them my phone again. “It’s pretty cheap too, sales” I smiled. We were off again looking for this device. Finding them we added them to the basket and we were leaving the store, finally. We paid for our things. I put my things in my bag and we were off once more. “Kaminari and Mina are picking out swimwear if you wanna come”

“I need something to fit my arms, hopefully, they’ll have something” Shoji nodded as Tokoyami looked less than comfortable at the idea of trying on swimwear. I smiled and looked up the store.

“Hey Tokoyami” his eyes turned to my own and I showed him the picture of the pitch-black swimwear set that was long-sleeved and came up his neck and down his legs. “They have a black pair that covers your whole body” I sang with a smile.

“I guess I do need a swim set” he crossed his arms as we made our way to the store, keeping our chatter casual and easy. I put my phone away as we came into the store and met up with the two, Mineta and Kirishima had joined them.

“Hey, guys” Kirishima waved smiling widely, happily. I waved back and we all began to browse. Mina and I moved over to the women's section even though the rash shirts in the men's section were looking more than appealing.

Mina and I began to look through the swimwear as I sighed out, there was far too many to look through. “What do you usually wear in the water” she bounced over happily already holding a few things to try on. I, on the other hand, had nothing.

“I don’t go swimming” I could swim quite well my parents have cared for me not drowning to get me a lesson at a young age. Though I didn’t go swimming often, we didn’t have a pool and I was very focused on studying to get into UA from a young age.

“What’s a colour you like,” she asked and began to go through the swimwear I was looking at “This is just all shirts” she whispered more to herself then I as I nodded and she smiled “You’ll have to buy a bikini to go underneath as well” I hadn’t even thought about that.

“I like F/C and black and yeah I do need to get a bikini” I sighed and put my head back, this was a lot for my social metre to take, my body anxious but Minas’ bubbly personality was helping my anxiety lessen. Taking out my phone I sent out a message to both Bakugou and Todoroki asking if they needed anything while I was out.

“Already got everything” was the message from Bakugou simple and easy then as I was about to click out “Thanks though” I smiled and was about to send a reply when the phone vibrated again “You should plan next time idiot” of course he couldn’t end on something positive. I replied and then moved onto Todoroki.

“No, it’s ok. I’ll go after visiting my mother. Thank you” even though his typing style was neat and formal. Only saying what he needed too and then ending the conversation whereas Bakugou wrote whatever came to mind in that second and sent it off. I replied to him as well and then put my phone away.

“Black isn’t a colour but I'll allow it” she stood quickly smiling out and then moving around the store grabbing Kaminari and Kirishima to help her find something for me to wear. I laughed at the awkward faces but they both went to work.

“Y/N” I was called over to Mina who was holding a bikini set that was F/C, it was modest and covered everything that needed to be covered. I nodded and then looked to the fabric taking it, it had a nice texture as well.

They looked nice, the bottoms weren’t held together by a string which I instantly liked and the bra part looked rather nice. The bra had little ruffles along the rim which were cute. I looked at the size and laughed. She looked confused as the boys walked overhearing the commotion. “You got a size far to small at least for the top” she tilted her hand and then looked down to my chest.

I moved to hold my shirt against my body and her eyes widened “That’s some voodoo magic” she called out and I could see a few boys blushing as Mineta fell to the floor. “No what” she called out and looked amazed.

I let go of my shirt and she shook her head “I just wear baggy clothing and jumpers to school. I appreciate the thought though” I laughed and moved to grab the size that fit me and she looked about ready to faint I laughed again. “It’s not the first time” she nodded and we went looking for the rest of the swimwear we all needed. “Kirishima” I watched his head turn and I held up a red swim shirt that had a picture of Crimson Riot on the back.

“I need it but I don’t usually wear shirts” he whispered and looked overly happy that I had found it. Leaning down I showed him the matching bottoms a little picture of the hero on the bottom of them. “There we go” he nodded and got both of them “Isn’t this kinda childish though” he frowned.

“If they had a swimsuit that had my favourite character on it, I’d get it. It’s manly to be you” I nodded and his eyes lit up as he jumped putting his arms together. He was so happy that someone had simply let him be a fan

“You’re right” he nodded and went to go show the others who were more than interested to listen to him babble about how much he loved Crimson Riot. I didn’t doubt he had far more merch then those two pieces of clothing. Though I was surprised to see the merch for such an old hero.

I looked around as the others did, Tokoyami having grabbed the black pieces of swimwear I had shown him prior when we were walking over. Mina found some pink swimmers that complimented her and I walked further into the store seeing something I knew one of my friends would be interested in. Grabbing the colour I assumed he’d like I walked over to the group.

“Shoji” I held up the seemingly normal swimsuit and I watched as everyone was confused until I pulled down an almost invisible zipper down the sides of the shirt and his eyes lit up.

“You seem to find what everyone needs Y/N” I could see the smile through his mask and I nodded handing over the shirt showing him where the zipper was. “I have bottoms so I’m all done” I looked back and watched as the boys went off Kaminari having picked some yellow bottom with Pikachu on them, I smiled as they went to try on their clothes.

I walked around until finding a nice black rash shirt with F/C strips along the ribs. Picking my size I walked over to Mina “Do you think I should get shorts or with the bikini bottoms be enough” I asked. She turned and looked at the outfit I was holding up.

“The shirt seems pretty long so I think you should be fine” she nodded and then moved to feel the rash shirt “That’s super soft” her eyes widened and I did the same nodding. “Go try them on” I looked down and tilted my head. Creating an illusion her eyes widened “You never need to try on clothes, I'm so jealous” she cried out and I laughed “But they look super good”

I nodded. A few more minutes and trying on clothes we were ready to move on with the rest of our trip. Paying for the clothing and a reusable bag to put it in we were off everyone having bought something. We walked and talked as we moved on to different stores buying things and talking about what we would need. It was a fun trip and I had messaged my mother if she could pick me up having bought all the things I needed and it is quite a lot. She said yes, she was acting nice the last few days but I didn’t mention it.

“I think that was a successful trip” Tokoyami pointed out and we all agreed. “It’s almost three so let’s all meet up with the group” we stopped by one more store to buy some new pillowcases and then we made our way back to the centre, being the first to arrive.

Throughout the trip we had been stopped a few times by people interested in our school and other things, we mostly thanked them and then went on with our day. I smiled at my ‘fans’ and then we were off to the place where we said we would all meet up. Having arrived we weren’t the first, of course, Iida was here before us all, bags in hand. He dressed like a dad and I loved that he wore such formal but casual clothes. Though when we arrived we were told that Midoriya had been attacked per se by Shigaraki. The league of villains so-called leader. I was practically shaking when we were told. Then asked by police if we had seen anyone. I hadn’t even thought about the league or Stains little followers. I wasn’t safe, we weren’t safe. The police conducted a sweep but Shigaraki wasn’t found and I didn’t know if I wanted him too. Midoriya was taken to the police station to file a report.

I stood with the rest of my peers and waved them off with a “Please be careful getting home” as I walked to the carpark placing all my new things into the boot while my mother was on the phone to someone. Getting into the passenger side I waved to the group getting waves back and raised my phone pointing to it mouthing “Message me” I got nods and then I was off on the drive home.

My mother complained to someone on the other side of the line, but their conversation ended quickly. Her eyes glazed over to my body for a moment before talking “Did you get everything you need” she seemed very calm which was odd.

“Yes, I did” I responded and she nodded stopping at a roundabout “I’ll be gone for a week as of the camp, I don’t know if I’ll be able to message as we don’t know where we are going” I explained as she drove through turning to the main road, the road home.

“That’s fine, you still have your suitcase” I hummed a yes and she nodded “Your father and I are going on a week vacation while you are gone” so that’s why she was being nice. She didn’t want me there anyway. “I’ll drop you off on Monday and pick you up when you get home” I nodded and the conversation was over.

Arriving home we went our separate ways. I moved into my room and began to get messages from everyone that they got home. I sent a message that I arrived home safely. I was so worried about the league but shook my head and began to pack my bag for the trip. I arranged everything and then began to pack, Aizawa saying they had beds for us so I didn’t need to bring Tatami to the trip. I packed my pillow and then packed around it, the piece is the biggest. Clothing folded perfectly and then placed inside. I packed the PowerPoint and extra chargers just in case. I had to charge my headphones tonight. I lifted myself from the floor and put them on to charge.

Then came dinner, it was simple and easy to eat. Down with some ice water I was in a good mood, and excited mood. A few moments on my phone then I was back to packing. I finished well into the night having made sure I had everything but leaving a note in the bathroom to pack my toiletries the day I was leaving before I left. I believed I was ready for bed as I stretched and then looked back to the bag. Amongst shopping, I had bought some t-shirts and shorts, ready for the outdoors. My boots were thick but flat so I could wear them without care if we had to do a lot of walking. I moved to pack a few jumpers for sleeping or if it got cold. I packed Bakugous without a thought.

I had gotten a message in a new group titled “The girls” I smiled when I was informed that I was being asked if I wanted to join the rest of the girls using the schools' pool tomorrow before the camp. “Use the school swimsuit,” I said I’d be there.

I had arrived at school the next day wearing the school swimsuit under my regular clothes and going to the changing room to undress when I saw the rest of the girls changing. I waved as they began to talk about nothing in particular and I joined in a few times.

“I am so excited for camp,” Toru yelled, voice high and full of energy even though it was rather early in the morning. I was still just waking up, not quite remembering how I got to school. As I peeled off my shirt I watched as the girls stopped talking.

“It’s so weird, right” I was confused and I followed their gaze to my chest as I flushed and looked away “Oh sorry Y/N” Mina apologised and I waved a hand as it was ok. It was I didn’t mind. “We went shopping and I was amazed”

“I can see why your outfits make you look flat” Jiro bluntly stated and I nodded looking down at my breasts. I wasn’t flat I thought I had nice breasts. We continued to get changed and then walked out into the pool area. “We got permission off Aizawa to be here so there was no need to worry” I nodded, I didn’t think about it. Momo had planned this and I trusted her.

We were just chilling stretching off to the side of the pool when the boys began to show up. The swimsuits weren’t too bad, covering my body, I should have brought something like this for the camp but I didn’t mind too much, I thought my outfit was cute. We stretched and then we began to play volleyball. We were having so much fun playing and joking with the girls.

“Serve”

“Chance ball”

“Got it”

“Mine”

We were having so much fun with I was smiling though I kept most of my body under the water being a little self-conscious of the tight clothing I was having fun nonetheless. I threw myself back aiming for a ball and hitting it over the net as I splashed into the water on my back gaining us a point.

When my head rose I heard a loud voice “The next time I beat you, I want you to be at your strongest, you damn nerd” I turned seeing Bakugou in all his glory, shirt off and tight pants on. I watched him storm his way towards Midoriya and my heartbeat quicken. He was so attractive. The girls and I watched on confused as to what was happening.

“Hey I got your message, sorry I'm late” Kirishima waved his hand around smiling. His arm was out holding Bakugou from the green-headed shaking male “It took a while to convince Bakugou to come out” I wanted to thank Kirishima for trying his hardest this is all I could have wanted. He was so muscular as I sighed out and flushed glad no one was paying attention to me.

“So Deku, you wanna settle who's the best of us right now” Bakugou was sure in a mood, his arm raised and hand outstretched to allow his palms to pop with small harmless explosions. He was sure fired up “Huh” he yelled. Midoriya stepped back shaking his head.

“You know what we could make this training a contest” Iida spoke more to himself then the group and my ears picked up on the chatter. “Hey everyone I propose we see which of the boys can swim 50 metres the fastest. A friendly race” he smiled and I couldn’t help the way my hands twitched. There was no such thing as a friendly race, at least in my books.

I ducked beneath the water and swam over quickly as they all rounded up. I popped out of the water on an illusion raising myself in front of them in all my glory. “I hope I’m welcome” I smiled and saw their fearful faces. Licking my lips I dropped down in front of the water falling from my body as I smiled. “I do enjoy beating you all” I was not met with smiles but determined faces of my peers.

“OK then, the boys and Y/N” Iida nodded and I moved to crack my knuckles rather loudly as I saw a few of the boys look rather excited and some just look nervous. I think I saw Kaminari wince to the sound of cracking bones.

“Iida why don’t you let us help you out with this” Momo asked the girls now out of the pool and looking excited as the rest of us. I was bouncing around, I was far too competitive for my good. I hated not being apart of competition but this was something else. This was a real competition. Iida agreed to the help, from the girls.

“And quirks,” Ojiro asked slowly his hand raised with a towel around his neck “Are we allowed to use them” I could win easily if we did. Just set them on a little course that wasn’t in the pool and I could easily win.

“Well, we are at school” Iida pondered, yes, just say we can. “So there shouldn’t be a problem with that” I smiled to the group and moved my hand letting out a little mist for emphasis I saw wide eyes and worried faces. “However you cannot cause damage to your classmates or the building” I could agree with that.

Bakugou walked forward and just past me to stand in front of Midoriya, they needed a new hobby “I’m going to annihilate you Deku” clenched fists and hard stare he spoke calmly, honestly. “And you too Icy-Hot” I turned to where his eyes were to see Todoroki sitting on the floor, without a shirt. The lords have blessed me today. “You bastard” he was in a bad mood, like always. Then the explosive blonde turned to me “You especially” then he walked off and I smiled.

“I look forward to it” I called out behind him. We all moved into lines. I was in the second heat so I watched the first five boys race. Then the whistle went off.

Bakugou was flying through the air landing on his feet at the end of the pool. “How was that you sidekicks” he called out hand raised and I smiled when he got backlash from his friends “It’s called freestyle swimming” he had a point it was a freestyle.

Then it was my go with Todoroki, Sero, Kirishima and Sato “On your marks, get set, go” the whistle was off and I watched as an illusion came around them jumping in as I jumped off the ledge and walked to the other end of the pool stepping up and letting the illusion fall. Sero taping his way across the surface of the water and Todoroki surfing on ice.

“You’re supposed to be swimming” Kaminari and Mineta yelled as I simply shrugged my shoulders. Watching Sato and Kirishima get to the end of the pool. Todoroki looked at me as well.

“What can I say. I like to win” I smiled and moved back to the lines “At least I touched the water” I put my hands on my hips and lined back up “Beside quirks are allowed and I didn’t hurt anybody or property” I wasn’t wrong.

“It’s time for the final race. Bakugou, Y/N, Todoroki, Midoriya you had the fastest four times. You will fight for first place” his hands were on his hips as I nodded Midoriya and Todoroki making a verbal response.

“Listen up scarface" I believed that to be a little harsh to the ear but then again that was Bakugou "Don’t you dare hold back as you did at the sports festival” his voice was so angry, he really still thought about that, did he forget I had beat him? ‘Bring everything you’ve got” I didn’t take it personally, I think Bakugou had a thing for people who didn’t take him seriously, while I did. “You too fight to win” he turned to Midoriya they were all agreeing and talking.

“Are we forgetting I beat all three of you” I voiced and it went silent. “I mean” I laughed lightly an aura of danger being released. “I don’t like when people don’t take me seriously” I smiled and saw the nods.

We got into place and I smirked standing on the pedestal. I could hear yelling and other things as I smiled seeing the boys activating their quirks and I sighed. “Get set” this would be easy. I smiled. “Go” as I went to jump I saw no illusion appear.

I heard the yells of my opponents as I fell into the water, having just stepped in instead of swimming. I rose to see Aizawa his hair up and quirk activated “It’s five pm, your authorised pool time is officially over. Hurry up and go home” did he have to do that. It was one race that would have been over in less than a minute. Kaminari and Sero voiced my complaints. “Are you questioning me” his eyes shone and I was glad I hadn’t been the one to talk.

We all rushed to get changed and go home once we were allowed. I sighed and got out of the pool feeling my quirk return to me, it was a weird feeling when it was off. Then I was heading home having to get ready for the camp.

I ate once I was home and then began to repack making sure I had everything I needed when I finished packing for the night and laid down being rather exhausted more then I would like to admit. I sighed out and went on my phone seeing a message I had missed about a quarter of an hour before. “Do you have a spare charger I spent longer with my mother and left mine with her” Todorokis’ message read. I smiled, he had messaged me.

“Yeah, I’ll pack it and give it to you at camp” I responded, I was never one for emojis or the little stickers but when I received one from Todoroki it being a little cat saying ‘Thank you’ I couldn’t help the blush rising to my cheeks. “No issues” I replied and stared at the ceiling for a moment to calm my racing heart.

I was tired but that didn’t stop me from watching a video I wanted to catch up on, a few hours passed and it was getting close to midnight, I had to get some sleep. I moved to place my phone on charge, pulling the blanket over my body and the warmth and sleep consumed my form. Hello, summer break.

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Chapter 8

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